#i am in dire need of money right now my rent just went up

[astralpenguin]

if my boss is tired of me telling her about all the overtime i’ve been having to do these past few weeks then imagine how tired i am as the person who’s been having to actually do all of it

[deweysdenouement]

House of Cards

a/n: this has lived in my mind rent free for longer than i care to admit but i only actually wrote it all tonight. somethin’ a little different. somethin’ likely not that good.

or: years after beatrice and bertrand leave vfd, beatrice and frank get trapped under a desk together during a bank robbery. mostly just them, cameos from bertrand, violet, and ernest + much discussion of kit and dewey

TW for guns and blood (nothing graphic, no death)

“Well,” Beatrice says brightly as a bullet flies over their heads and dislodges some beige coloured plaster in the wall. “This is no good.”

“I thought we were just amicable strangers in a queue,” Frank replies flatly, folded up like the origami swans on the tables at his hotel, trying to keep his body hidden under the desk. 

“Amicable strangers surviving a bank robbery together,” she says. “It brings people closer.”

“That’s never been my experience of the world,” Frank says, and it’s punctuated by another two shots, an effect she imagines he rather enjoys. “In my experience, when people get scared, they just leave.”

‘Well,” Beatrice says, as her heart breaks behind her ribs, “I am actually stuck here right now.”

“You haven’t changed,” he replies, and a hint of softness creeps into his voice. “I thought being a mother would force you to learn to actually listen to people.”

It’s a dig, and an accurate one at that, but they might be dead in a few minutes, so she leaves her arsenal of words she could throw back at him alone. Partly because she’s listening for the footsteps of the man keeping them all in here, partly because Frank looks more pitiful than annoyed.

“I have two children now,” she says softly. “So I should be doubly good at it.”

“I saw. Dewey kept the clipping from the birth announcement in the paper.”

“How is he?”

“You know Dewey,” Frank says, tone carefully even. “If there’s a silver lining, he’ll find it.”

Someone on the other side of the room starts to cry. A few scattered voices hush them.

“He’s not great,” Frank finishes. “So we should try to avoid dying here.”

“We’ll be fine,” Beatrice says easily. “They just want the money. We’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Bad timing,” he murmurs.

“Because you’re stuck in a hostage situation, or because you’re stuck in a hostage situation with me?”

Frank smiles crookedly for the first time since they had noticed each other in the queue.

“Oh, the latter,” he says. “If I was stuck here with Bertrand? No complaints.”

“Bertrand could have talked that guy down by now,” she says glumly. “You could run off back to the hotel and avoid any awkward conversation at all.” 

“Don’t you always claim to be some genius with people?” Frank shifts slightly, and she hears the crack of his bones. They’re both getting older.

“I can’t even get toddlers to go to bed,” she says ruefully, and it feels more honest than she means it to. “You think I can stop a hostage situation with the power of love?”

“Well, it would be nice. I have a meeting in an hour.”

“I cannot believe you are worrying about work,” she hisses. “Are you gonna try telling him that?”

“I’ve never seen the emotional card work in the movies,” he says, and she thinks he might be joking with her again. “Who can know what’ll work?”

“I do feel very inclined to tell him I have a husband and two children,” Beatrice huffs, and slides down the smooth wood so she’s half resting on the small of her back. “If anything happens to me-”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he says sharply. His face is closed off again. “Nothing is happening to you.”

“Never knew you cared.” She grins at him, knocks her shoe against his. “Anyone else would have let me have my moment.”

“Kit would tell you to shut up,” he says. “Then threaten to run you over with her taxi.”

“That was definitely her thing.”

“It still is her thing,” Frank says. “We didn’t all stop existing when you left.”

“I know,” she says, a little ashamed. “How is she?”

“How much have you forgotten about us that you think Kit and I are talking about feelings?”

“Good point,” she says, and laughs a bit. “But you can tell, can’t you?”

“I guess,” he hums. “She’s pretty mad at you.”

“That’s fair.”

Footsteps move right past their desk, separated only by a thin slice of wood, and they both hold their breaths for a moment.

“She does miss you both though,” he carries on, and she thinks maybe he’s using Kit as a shield, that they’re not really talking about her anymore. “Probably more than she’s mad at you.”

“I guess you can’t know,” she says.

“I guess not.”

“I really am sorry,” Beatrice whispers. “And you can tell her that, if you want. I think a lot of people would have made our choice if they’d been able to.”

Being friends with Frank, she remembers, is a lot like building a house of cards. There’s a lot of fragile and strategic placing, and a wrong step usually means starting over. It’s a shame this isn’t really a good time to be hesitant.

“I would have,” he says eventually, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “But then VFD made the hotel too critical to their operations, even though we just wanted it to be a hotel. And then there’s my brothers. Obviously.”

“I didn’t know you wanted it to be normal,” she frowns.

“Told you you didn’t know everything,” he says, smiling weakly. “What better way to keep us where we were than monopolising our only source of income?”

“Not very noble,” she mutters, then, “Why do you always talk about it like you’re not a part of it?”

“Don’t start reading into things,” he huffs. “I look at most things from the outside.”

“Well, that’s because you have problems,” Beatrice quips teasingly, and she’s about to make an excellent joke when there’s another round of shots so close to her ear that for a second her head is full of ringing, and then Frank is groaning next to her.

When the ringing subsides and she hears the feet move away and sees the light shining through the holes in her desk, she scrambles over to Frank.

“Oh shit,” she says, when she sees blood on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, feeling great,” Frank snaps, shifting so she can see the wound in his leg. It’s not deep, and he doesn’t look in any danger of dying, but it still makes her a little dizzy after a few years of mainly cleaning up baby food. “Not the first time.”

“When was the first time?” Beatrice asks, stripping off her cardigan to press it against his leg and trying to sound normal. “And why haven’t I heard this story?”

“Oh, it was meant for Ernest,” he says, and hisses when she applies pressure. “I kept up the ruse. Long story.”

“We have time,” she says.

“Not much,” he replies. “I heard police outside.”

As much as she would like to not be hiding from a man with a gun, Beatrice knows that when this is over, so is this conversation. They’re only trapped here together by freak coincidence and her pulling him down next to her when the first shots went off. He’ll be gone with the wind as soon as the doors open.

“Hey, Beatrice,” he says, snapping her out of her reverie. “Listen to me for a moment and don’t say anything.”

“Fine,” she says. “Don’t confess your feelings for me though.”

“Hah,” he snorts. “Well, if I do, it’s the blood loss.” 

“Making you reveal what you’ve felt all along,” she says brightly. “Come on now, before you pass out.”

“I’m not passing out,” he says stubbornly, and she believes this because she’s seen him go three days without sleeping before. “I just needed to tell you that if I die and you live-”

“Obviously not happening.”

“I said don’t say anything,” he grumbles. “If I don’t make it out of here and you do, I need you to tell my brothers-”

“That you love them? We know, Frank, maybe you should just show some affection sometimes.”

“Will you shut up?” Frank narrows his eyes at her. He’s a little pale and sweaty, but still as sharp as ever. “I need you to tell them one of them can take my place. If they want to. It’s probably easier than whatever they’ve got going on.”

“Well,” Beatrice says. “That’s insane.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion on it, I just asked you to do it,” Frank snaps. “Beatrice, for god’s sake, let a man bleed in peace.”

“You’re hilarious,” she says. “I don’t think you have it that easy though.”

“Your opinion isn’t really part of my life anymore,” he says bluntly, and closes his eyes. “I’d pass on a message for you.”

“Eh,” she says. “I think I’m kinda obvious now. I love my family, I want them to move on, I was very noble, blah blah.”

“Duly noted,” he replies. “You have fun with that.”

Then the doors break open, and there’s a cacophony of yelling, and when Beatrice peers over the top of the desk, she sees that the man who took them all hostage is in handcuffs.

“Told you we’d be fine,” she says. “I know you thought we were both done for, but you gotta learn to listen to me.”

Frank flips her off, and she helps him to his feet, slinging one skinny arm over her shoulder.

Outside, there are crowds of people all with their gloved hands over their mouths and some cheer as the little group of hostages trails out.

“Hi!” A little voice calls, and Beatrice looks down to see Violet toddling towards her at top speed, Bertrand hurrying behind her with Klaus in his arms.

“Oh,” he says slowly when he approaches, and sees Frank with her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Frank says, making some vague attempt to look dignified despite barely being on his feet. “I hope you’re well.”

“Are you?” Bertrand asks, nonplussed. 

“What do you think?” Frank says flatly, and Beatrice nods subtly to the blood seeping down his leg so Bertrand will understand the sudden absence of a filter.

Before Bertrand can come up with any reasonable response to that (and she’s sure he could and she would admire him greatly for it), Ernest is swooping in, and it’s another punch to the gut of a familiar face even if it’s the exact same face.

“There you are,” Ernest says, pulling Frank off Beatrice to lean on him without a word to her. He looks dreadful, but she can’t tell if it’s the present stress or a new normal. “Dewey’s worried sick. Kit drove me here, that’s how dire things got.”

“Hi, Ernest,” Beatrice says. Bertrand stays wisely silent.

Ernest gives her the once-over.

“Thanks for helping,” he says shortly. “You probably shouldn’t come to the taxi.”

“Good call,” she says weakly. “Bye.”

It feels just as hard the second time.

“Bye,” Ernest says, and Frank raises a hand. “Okay, come on, you’re off work for at least a week.”

“It’s a graze,” Frank sighs, and then they’re both gone into the crowd, and Beatrice stands among the bustle of people with Bertrand’s hand on her shoulder and fresh blood drying on her dress.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Spera - Elias x Reader (Trespass)

Direct Follow Up To: Veritas GIF Credit: X

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ 

Author’s Note: *Story Time* Ha-! I went on holiday in September and there were a bunch of DVDs at the holiday home and no word of a lie, this was one of them and my parents wanted to see it. So, I kinda wanted to continue things from ‘Veritas’... and watching it again got me inspired (and I got to notice a bunch more stuff!) 

I was going to call this ‘What She Wants Tonight’ ... but then I decided to keep the Latin theme.

So you get Elias back-! 🎉

What She Wants Tonight - Luke Bryan  (Because of course it’s Luke Bryan)

Disclaimer: Trespass & associated characters not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine. / Call backs to Veritas / Kyle Sullivan (Guns for Hire) gets another name drop.

Premise: You hadn’t expected him to call you, of course. But then you didn’t think you’d expected to see him again either. On this mission you must work together. But it’s clear that that’s not your only objective...

Words: 7171

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Pre-Amble / I really can’t write action scenes.

_____ She walks up, velvet rope unhooks She snaps her fingers and a drink comes She locks you down with just one look She's got this whole club undone If she's on the rebound, you ain't gonna know it Coming off a heartbreak, she ain't gonna show it She's eyes caught, red dot, locked on me, yeah She wants my hands on her body She wants to burn like she's made of fire Said she ain't going home 'til we Drink every drop of Kentucky dry Don't even know what she'll do when she does it Palm of her hand, I'm hers in the blink of an eye She don't take no and I love She gets what she wants And I get to be what she wants tonight I get to be what she wants tonight I get to catch all her secrets Sequins bouncing off flashing lights If she wants it, then we're leaving Get me home, park the truck, cut the tires I get to be where she goes when she's lonely The last door of the night she's closing Oh, I know she could have anything, but And I don't know how I got to be The only thing she needs right now

---

To anyone who wasn’t aware, the building could have been a normal office block, the people going in and out certainly appeared to be normal office workers. A few of them were – in order to hide their organization, the first few levels of this building had been rented to businesses, but the rest of the block belonged to the Agency.

You stepped gently into the elevator and swiped your access card, pushing the elevator button for your floor you stood back against the mirrored walls and waited to ascend.  Of course, by the time you were to the floor, Joel was already busy running around gathering papers and talking loudly on phones… it was clear that you wouldn’t be here long, they would have you out the door as quick as they had you in. Joel was a little like a personal assistant. Although an ‘assassin’ in his own right he was more on the level of office worker casual, than your higher ranking. He was not your partner - although you did use him as such on occasion - and you were not his mentor, he had been taught the basics by others but that’s as far as he got. He was your go between, only top clients saw you face to face (and were always surprised that you was a woman) everyone else went through Joel, he arranged your payments and sent off your confirmation… sometimes he helped on intel, or clean up detail, but he also arranged transport and set things between your Superior and yourself. He managed to offer you a quick nod as he rushed around, which you gratefully returned… you ascended a flight of steps and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You entered. “Y/N. Quick as ever to the call I see.” “There isn’t often a time when I cannot get here. I’d like to keep my records intact.” “And they are quite some records.” Your Superior indicated to the chair in front of him, “Please sit.” You did as was asked, crossing your legs one over the other. “…It’s a wonder to me why the Master has not called you up yet.” “Because he knows that I’m good at ground work. If you pulled me up another level then, of course, I would have jurisdiction over several assassin’s as you do, but I would only get called to field work in times of dire need… and We haven’t had a real firefight in close to 100 years. I would do better out there. Plus aren’t you all men?” you managed to crack a little smile, “I’m not indicating sexism, but…” He gave a small shrug, “They all think you’re male anyway. As we all go by codenames here.” “Yes there is that.” You nodded to the window, “Joel appears to be working hard on the next big thing already,” your eyes flicked back to your Superior, “I assume I am needed right away?” “Yes…” He handed you over a file “As you’re in the area, we thought that might take your fancy. It isn’t directly your job, but it does pay well.” You opened the file and raised an eyebrow, “Nilo? Again?!” “Several of these drug lords are untouchable. As you well know.” “Eh, they give good business, some even pay well,” you flicked the page, “these just seem to be calls for several underlings…” “Several big Russians are getting too big for their boots, too…” “So there’s a lot going on?” “I would only send my best to several jobs at once.” You took the second file from the desk, they all looked to be linked, “These guys aren’t in situ yet, are they?” “No. But we have it on good ear that they will be.” “So Nilo calls for the blood of the Russians, and some” you squinted as you read the name, “…This sounds like drug wars?” It had been a while; they weren’t exactly to your taste. Nilo was a very old client indeed – back when you were just starting out on your own. “You have connections.” “Yes. Joel is useful in that respect too… Does he know?” Joel would know the when and where and exactly what you’d need. You doubted he’d be doing so much rushing if he knew what this was really for. “You can brief him.” “Hmm. Well, it’s a good thing we focus on the numbers and not the side…” You stood, collecting the folders together, “Consider it done.” “Good. Your payment for yesterday has been wired. The man himself has been reported missing. I assume no body will turn up?” “Not on my watch. Unless someone asks for it specifically.” You waved the folders, “Expect some good news within the next few days.” “I always do with you, Y/N. Good luck.” “Thank you Sir. But I won’t need it.”

 As you exited the room and took the stairs you called to him: “Joel!” He fell in step as you hit the floor; “Can get the car out front, I’ve sent intel up to Marty, meet in 10?” “Sure, let me go see what our weapons tech has for me then… you ready?” “Sounds like there’s a war brewing.” “Drugs war. Hope you enjoy undercover.” “Me? Oh Geez…” Joel’s face told the story you expected “Well I’m not even supposed to be there am I? They don’t call me Ghost Shadow because they can see me, do they?” “It’s actuall-” “Don’t care, Joel, remember…” You looked to him with a smile, you’d never had much patience for whispered codenames, “Besides, you have the connections.” He scoffed, “Don’t rope me in with the drugs guys, Nilo’s just used me before.” “Yeah, but I want other side intel.” You tapped him in the chest with your folder, “Get it.” “Yes Sir.” “Funny.”

***

Your weapon’s technician looked as enamoured as ever to see you, his smile bright as you walked onto his floor: “Y/N!” “Marty.” “…Off already?” “One day I’m taking the first fight out to Cozumel and NOONE is going to stop me.” “If you ever get a break, considering what you do, I’m going to give you free range and let you clear out my weapons cache entirely.” “Oh? You’d do that for me?” You fluttered your eyelashes teasingly “Marty!” you tapped your card in, and opened the doors, “What do you have in?” “New? Since you were last in here?” “Don’t give me that tone! Because if there’s one thing I know, you are a collector and second, I haven’t been using this particular weapons store in my work recently, so, yes, new!” “Usually you carry your own pistol.” “Usually?” You gave him a wry smile, “Always. And I do, but everything else-” “What I like most about your pistol is its untraceable.” “Well. That’s how he made it.” “So it WAS his.” “Yes. It the least I could do to honour him.” “…Well, you are right, I do collect. I have several new rifles in, but you’re not such a fan. I also have a light weight sniper gun, and if you were ever interested in something smaller for close range-” “A pocket gun?” You chucked, “Bring it, a lot less messy than a knife.” “So they do work?” “Execution style. Yeah – anything will work if you want it to. I mean, sometimes us Assassins have to improvise; that said its always hoped things will never get that messy.” He slid the tiny gun across the table to you, “It’s not been road tested yet. But… I can think of no better person to try it out. Careful.” “Will be,” you patted it as you slid it into your top coat pocket, “and for Joel?” “What do you think he’ll need?” “You’ve read the file, you tell me! Don’t forget rope; the most useful thing you could give me.” “Kinda think a gun would be more useful.” “Rope saves lives, guns take lives. Get my meaning. Besides, how else do you expect me to ascend or descend a building?!” “Stairs!? A lift!? This is Nilo we’re talking about, it’s not exactly big budget. This isn’t Mission Impossible.” “Well it could be-!” You cracked a smile as Marty muttered under his breath, collecting everything up – he handed the bag to you, “Have a good trip. See you in a few days.” “Of course! Thanks!” *** Joel complained the whole way; it was to be expected - you were used to getting into the middle of gang and mafia warfare. Taking out politicians and heads of state. Drugs sometimes, on a higher level – but drugs carried its own problems… This, in particular, was way below your pay grade. “You’re too good for this.” “He’s fronting the right amount of money and he wants me.” “No, fact is you should have been off shit like this years back. You did some good jobs back then, but you’re above this now. And drugs?!? Y/N, you abhor drugs. It’s like your one thing.” “Look, if He sends me then I can’t push back.” “You have authority, surely?” “Well it’s a little late now. Next time I’ll think on it.” “Yeah well, you better.” His hard stare switched from you to the road. No doubt, Joel didn’t want to be mixed up in this any more than you. Perhaps it was about time you asked to politely be removed from anything related to them.

When you pulled into the parking lot he began grumbling even more. Of course Joel had most of the intel, maybe he’d need a little more research but, that’s what the first meeting was all about. Sometimes you thought he’d rather stay at HQ and feed you the info via a web link. “I mean, a strip club. Could this be any more degrading for you?!” Joel was about to launch into how the Agency should think before sending their best female agent to places like this, to stop the tirade you gave a smile and a joke instead. “As long as you’re not expecting me to get up and dance?” You nudged him, “Besides the girls all love you.” “Not interested.” Was his blunt reply, reaching into the back seat for his case. “Nothing will cheer you up today, huh?” “No. It’ll get worse.” You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so let’s get in, get it done, get out.”

*** To be honest when you’d left your card with Elias you never expected him to call it. Maybe hoped on it, but you’d been done with hoping after a few days; those had now bled into months - and you had plenty of kills under your belt since then (and a grovelled apology from Kyle Sullivan. He hadn’t called on you again since.) But your day got a little better as you wandered into the club and very nearly snorted, hiding your face and smirk behind Joel for a moment. “What?” “Remember when I told you about that little bit of trouble at Mr.Sullivan’s place?” “Yeah, I remember...” “Guess we just stumbled on where they came from.” If it had pleased you, Joel turned another shade of glum. “Brilliant.”

Indeed, though you looked pretty collected as you approached Nilo, Elias has turned sheet white. The others wouldn’t have noticed, you’d taken them all out before they saw your face. Well, maybe except the big guy but he was eyeing you with a certain level of curiosity, instead of what was going through Elias’ mind. Clearly not so happy to see you. You didn’t even spare him a proper glance, nodding to Nilo instead. “It’s been a minute.” “Indeed it has, Y/N. Welcome. We’ll certainly be glad to use your services once more…” “No use kicking around, I suggest we discuss the job.” You bowed your head gently, if only to say my pleasure - with a smirk. Because it would be your pleasure. Although, looking back to Elias you were sure that not everyone was glad. *** Elias didn’t really speak much during the briefing; you already counted too many people involved – and Joel was getting antsy. You’d just have to deal with it, you could do this alone but Nilo wanted to make sure everything was done to his letter – and therefore was sending a group along with you. You didn’t particularly understand this; did he think you were still a kid who’d only just started out? Reckless and a little dumb? You thought it was more likely the group he wanted to send were the ones who would mess everything up. Elias and Ty were amongst them. Elias, being the obvious one you knew – who did not like being under the weight of your stare – and Ty being the one you’d picked out as a potential problem back at Mr. Sullivan’s house. Elias’s brother, Noah, was also in on the meeting and a couple of guys who looked less tough than paper, who you would refuse to take when it came to your terms… but let Nilo think he’s in control, for now. Joel and yourself were now sitting at the bar of the club, him facing it with his laptop, grumbling like there was no tomorrow. And you facing the pole dancers, back against the bar. You’d never had the inclination to get up there and do that, but you were 99% sure you could; maybe one day you’d give someone a run for their money. Joel had ordered some cocktail that came with a lollipop and you wasted no time in stealing that. Your drink wasn’t alcohol, you didn’t drink on a job – Champagne was for afterwards. Joel was drinking to get himself through this one. “So?” “I can’t believe this.” “You’ve said that 20 times.” You removed the candy from your mouth, “I need, you know, something useful.” “I mean the complex itself is relatively easy to get into, you don’t even need the code, just fry everything. There’s multiple floors but there’s hardly anywhere that’s going to have cover…” He was staring hard at the schematic. “Why are we not going alone? The more bodies in a corridor the harder this is!” “Joel.” You warned. “Okay, you just need to get to the inner most point. It looks like one of those panic rooms.” You half turned to his screen as he tapped it, replacing the lolly with an agreeing hum. “Assured your guy, and whatever drugs or shit you gotta haul on back, is there.” He turned to you, looking more than a little disgruntled that he was having to do this, “I’ll make a couple of calls. It won’t be hard. And forgodsake, please do not drag this personal hell out for me.” “I’ll try.” You gave a gently sarcastic smile and he sighed. “And PLEASE stop doing that overtly sexual thing you do! Like, I don’t need it.” “It’s not for you.” “I think he’s a bad idea.” Joel eyes were back on his laptop, and you weren’t sure if his uncomfortable shift was just for show. You supposed he was only going to point back to his ‘degrading’ speech if you pressed further. “I didn’t ask you.” “No, and I can see why.” Of course you were playing a game here. You knew Elias was watching you – there wasn’t much out there you weren’t aware of. That was all part of your training. But you’d noticed that try as he might he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and you could busy yourself with being a seductress whilst also being teasing and paying him absolutely no mind. What you’d also come to the dissatisfying conclusion of was that his girlfriend was also here; oh, and she was not impressed. You didn’t really care, it was fun to play them against each other, in fact maybe it was more satisfying to have her here, realising exactly what you were doing. Because she was all over him and that was not an exaggeration, but Elias was pushing her out of the way to keep on staring at you. So, if Joel really didn’t think you were going to sit on this stool with your chest pushed out and your shirt riding up, sucking on a lollipop… well he should know better. You didn’t need to show too much skin: the idea was to let his imagination do the work. From what you could tell, Elias’ imagination was working overtime. Joel left you alone to make his series of phone calls outside, convinced that he needed air anyway. Which you’d laugh at of course, considering he’d probably kill his time outside smoking. At which point you turned back to the bar and gathered your thoughts – before you would begin to clear your head of everything but the mission. That was all that would matter for the next few days; that was all that had to matter. As you were pondering this however, you were approached by someone else, and you didn’t really have to guess who had made his way across the club to you. “Well, I see you can’t even call a number on a card, how do you expect me to think that you can pull this off?” Elias slid onto the stool next to you, tipping his head, “It’s not that simple.” You turned your eyes on him, “I get it, you have a girlfriend. Don’t tell me you’re not interested. And if you’re not, don’t come over here and talk to me, keep it strictly business.” He rummaged in his jacket pocket and your calling card was placed back on the table, “I wanted to.” You couldn’t help but smile as you stared at it, “Wanting is something you can say easily, the doing is the only thing I have use for.” Your fingers brushed his as you pushed the card back towards him, “Keep it, if you ever decide to become useful to me.” “Y/N…” The bar tender placed a drink in front of him without Elias even asking and your look away from him was enough to be an eyeroll, with the way you stared straight at the back wall. He spent enough time here for that then. He took a sip, eyeing yours. “You don’t drink?” “Not on the job no.” “Y/N, what are you doing here?” “I’m an assassin, I told you that. It’s like you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since I walked in.” “Is that any surprise?” His voice was laced with sugar, which made you a little uncomfortable as you turned to him. Those blue eyes were watching your face intently, and if you thought that a man like him was capable of melting, that might be what you’d call it. “Please, Elias. Go back to your girlfriend.” There was a pause, before he leant into your space and you sighed in obvious frustration. “Why do you need two guns?” He indicated to the one on the counter that no one was paying any mind to, and then to your hip, partially concealed by your coat. “Assassin as good as you.” “Will you do what I say, if I tell you?” His smile became a grin that was more of a smirk, “Depends what you tell me to do.” You couldn’t help but hum a laugh as you unholstered the one on your belt, “That,” you waved at the one on the counter, “that’s my own, it’s no big deal. It’s probably standard issue – due an upgrade, but it’s never let me down. Call me superstitious, but I’d quite like to keep it around. This baby…” You weighed the one in your hands up. “Belonged to my mentor.” “The one that used to spew Latin before he killed people?” You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded: he remembered. “So why do you have it?” You placed it with your own and leant into him, you became a little huddle and lowered your voice, “Because he died, Elias. It’s in honour and memory of him.” There was a moment’s pause, and Elias wondered if you’d opt to continue the conversation, “…How? I mean your line of work is dangerous but-” “The Agency killed him, made me watch.” The flicker across Elias’ face was both apologetic and a revelation; ‘that might explain a few things’ “He fell in love with a target, he couldn’t kill her. Eventually the Agency found out and executed him.”  It was weird for you to just out and say it like that, it jarred you – you weren’t sure what you were thinking, saying something so personal. You were supposed to have better instincts than that. Did you trust him? There was something cold about the way you were talking that didn’t fit with the look on your face, and Elias tipped his head – “But you’re working alone now, you have no mentee of your own?” He seemed to be asking if that process would be too painful for you. Instead you gave a shake of your head, “No. I have no patience for that. I would be no good, not yet anyway. Not all of us make it through the process – hence why Joel is my assistant and not an assassin himself. He has all the skills, he didn’t pass all the tests.” You frowned momentarily, then shrugged, “I’ll probably die doing this, or see myself old enough to take my bosses job. Though, I’ve never been much of a girl for desk work.” Elias would agree with that, “How long have you been doing this?” “…That’s… a little too much of me to expose to you.” Oh, but you liked this didn’t you? Talking to him. To someone who was actually interested in you. “I never knew my parents. The Agency has a specific way of testing kids at orphanages and such. There’s no attachment, nowhere for the kids to run. Still, they take care of you better than some children get treated by their own parents so, I guess there’s a win somewhere.” Something twinged in Elias by the look on his face, making you realise you’d touched on something that was a little too much of him to expose to you. You left it alone. “I guess you have a point there.” “Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but smirk as you looked over his shoulder, this girlfriend of his had spotted the two of you talking and the livid look on her face was only making your ego swell a little. There was no way she didn’t know he was into you, and you were invested enough in the conversation to have some attachment to him. You wondered if he’d told her about your kiss, if it was obvious to her by the way Elias looked at you. But he was still watching your face, even when you turned away, the way you were smirking and clearly enjoying yourself, “What?” He was clearly amused, he hoped it was him. “Your little girlfriend is about to blow a fuse.” Elias’ face fell instantly as he looked over his shoulder, “Oh-” “She a dancer here?” He didn’t need to nod, “You walking cliché.” You nudged him off his bar stool, “Go. Go on.” “Try not to miss me.” He shot back, hands getting a little too friendly as his touch lingered on you. Instead you scoffed, picking up your cup, “Trust me, I won’t.”

 ** You kicked around for another day and a half, longer than you would have liked, but once Joel had his intel sorted the small group you assembled had to make the plan water tight. Which means they listened to you, no questions asked. Ty was about the only one you really trusted, he was built for this and he took an interest in you for reasons you thought were kind of unhealthy; not an assassin, you could tell he was probably going to enjoy this. You never took enjoyment from killing – it was just your job. Still, Ty was quiet and nodded along. Elias didn’t. And to be honest, if you weren’t having so much fun playing him and Petal – you’d tried not to snort – off against each other, you’d be more pissed with him than you already were. “She is NOT coming on this mission!” “She always tags along.” “You’re not running this mission Elias, I AM. And there’s only one thing I have a hard stop on, and that’s drugs.” Before he could protest the irony of what you were doing you continued, “She’ll fuck the whole thing up and I know you know that. I will not take drug dependants on this mission. Or we can take her, but I’ll put a bullet in her head the second I feel I have to and I won’t hesitate.” “---You’re…. insane!” “It’s my job. I don’t fail on my tasks; your little gang of tag-alongs are not going to change that.” “Then I won’t come.” “Well don’t. Explain to Nilo why, for all I care.” Elias sighed, faltering on the fact you would give him up so fast, a little too easily for someone who wanted to labour a point, “Okay. Okay… I’ll tell her.” “You better…” He turned away but you pulled him back by his jacket, “Woah, hey. Your brother’s not coming either.” “Oh my god-” “Because he’s the opposite problem. He’s not taking his medication and he’s erratic. You think I can’t read tells?” “No, on this I might be inclined to agree you have the right idea.” “So we’re agreed, on the same page.” Elias didn’t meet your eyes as he nodded, “Yeah.” “So we’re getting somewhere.” Your arms folded, confident little smile making him give you that same melted look. Scratch all previous thoughts, Elias was easier to play than a deck of cards. You wondered how long he’d spent looking at your calling card and desperately wishing to call the number. You wondered why Elias hadn’t already. What was his real reason? He could give you as many cocky smirks and sarcastically suggestive little quips as he wanted – you could see right through him. “I thought we already were.” *** You should have bet on how much complaining Joel was going to do, by the fact that he was muttering curses in more than one language under his breath. For the first part of the journey you thought it was funny, and responded in kind. Linguistics was a nice hobby, and Joel and yourself had a healthy competition on how many you could learn. Aside from that, it was good business practice. For the second half of the journey you settled into silence, closing your eyes and taking yourself through all your focus meditation and breathing exercises – before checking and double checking your weaponry. Then triple checking it – obviously. All with Joel still grumbling on, and Elias and Ty asking each other if this was something they ought to be doing. Joel slowed the van and parked up, the complex was in view, but you were out of sight. You had split yourself into two teams: Elias and yourself, and Joel and Ty. You would clear the first few floors together – without breaking a sweat – and then they would go on look out and you’d take out the name on your rap sheet. Obviously your assistant was as impressed with this arrangement as he was with everything else – but he was on side with you, and he understood it. He could make sure there were no screw ups. Joel also had a build like Ty did, so he wasn’t about to be taken out, or by surprise, by him. You all had communication links to each other so you could keep tabs, but you wanted radio silence unless absolutely necessary. The only good thing about this was that you didn’t really have to worry about how messy you were, Nilo didn’t have a preference for making someone disappear, he just wanted the man killed. As predicted the four of you swept the first few floors silently, splitting the building nearly in half you came to the point where you’d be leaving Joel behind, turning to him you opted to continue your language game: “You know where you’re going?” “I know what I’m looking for.” “Be careful. I don’t trust them.” “The feeling is mutual.” “Yell if you need anything.” He shot Elias a look before turning to you, “I’d say the same, but I think you can handle yourself!” You chuckled, “Thanks, Joel. Until later.” And, indicated for Elias to follow you, ascended the stairs.

  ***

Everything looked very different up here, but was equally as quiet. There’d be security every so often, you were sure of that, as there had been downstairs. Perhaps more, considering your target was their boss, but nothing you didn’t think yourself capable of handling. “So, I don’t get it, is this a drugs complex, or a house!?” You turned to Elias as he stared around the walls: very domestic from the bland grey concrete you’d seen downstairs. “Both.” It wasn’t a guess; you’d seen the schematic. “A safe house?” “Round about, we’re heading for a panic room.” “You have that map stored in your head?” You kept the pistol steady as you rounded the corner, it was clear and you beckoned him on, “Is that impressive?” “Vaguely.” You chuckled, “I’ll take it.” You suddenly pulled back, slamming Elias against the wall as a bullet streaked passed you, “Shit!” You weren’t worried about that, immediate with your retaliation fire. You were trained for this, it was instinct. There was more than one of them and you had to bring them down quick less they raise the alarm, you had no time to think about cover: about the only thing Elias did think of. “They’ll have heard bullets, I gotta go.” You turned back to him, “Your choice, go back to them or try to keep up!” Trying to keep up was much easier said than done, and you had sprinted out of sight by the time Elias had run around the next corner. “Ah, shit.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Well, I’ve followed her this far!” You must have been quick, because Elias made it another couple of floors up before he found any signs that you might have had difficulty, what worried him was that it was your mentors’ gun that was lying on the ground – so out of the way it’d probably been kicked or thrown there. Carelessly; you hadn’t just decided to drop it. You certainly would have retrieved it.  Whoever your mentor had been, however you tried to hide it, Elias knew he’d meant a lot to you. Picking it up, the still loaded chamber and half empty magazine told a worse story to him. What the hell had happened to you?! Surely they hadn’t overpowered you? Not you! *** Elias almost started to believe it as he continued walking, as suddenly there wasn’t a body, or blood or an empty casing anywhere in sight. Everything was still quiet. Not a sound, not even on the radio. He arrived on the next floor, and again everything was clear. It occurred to him to call the other two for help very nearly a little too late, as, more concerned with finding out where you were, Elias rounded the next corner without his pistol up. In fact, without a pistol at all, and he was faced with yours. “You’re lucky that I check what I’m shooting at before I pull a trigger, Elias! Geez!” You flicked the safety on. “ME!? You just gave me a heart attack! Where the hell did you go!?” You shuffled on the spot with a little shrug, “Look, just, don’t go upstairs into the office, okay?” “Office…? What? I thought you said he had a panic room.” “He absolutely had a panic room – he wasn’t in it. It was not the cleanest kill I’ve ever made and…” You paused staring up at the ceiling, “At least it’s done.” He followed your eyeline and grimaced, leaking through the ceiling already was a patch of blood, “That’s a lot of bodies or it’s a terribly built house-!” “Bit of both…” You looked to him, “Hardly matters right now, don’t you think?” “Who the hell are you, Y/N?” Your head tipped, regarding him seriously in the eschewing silence to his question. “You really want to know that?” He nodded firmly, “Yes.” Elias wasn’t sure he liked the smile you gave back, the way it made the heart leap in his chest, and a shudder run up his spine. You grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall this time not to protect him – far from it. Your lips on his were rough, this wasn’t love…  you weren’t even sure you could call it chemistry. But it was something. Elias pulled your body into his, your fingers running into his hair, he groaned into the kiss as you raked your nails across his scalp. But you continued to push his body as you made him breathless. Oh… shit. Elias could barely think properly as he ran his hands under your coat and over your ass, pulling your shirt with him, the feel of your supple skin under his calloused hands drove him crazy. Until he found himself backed up against a door, breaking the kiss in confusion. “Maybe you should try it.” You encouraged, voice at a whisper as you brought his lips back to yours, Elias wasn’t going to say no, and it swung open behind his push. This time when he broke the kiss it was only to smirk. “Oh? A bedroom?” “Uh huh.” He turned back to you, eyes raking your body as they had done before, but now significantly more hungry. You pushed a finger to his lips before he started getting clever: “…Stop talking… stop thinking… don’t make me wait any longer.” Replacing your finger with your lips, Elias pulled back to nod, “Okay.” He pulled you into his arms, relieving you of your coat immediately. It was almost like no time had passed at all, he tasted the same as you remembered, whisky and cigarette smoke. Elias pulled you closer, certainly not eager to break the kiss or let you go for even a moment. You pulled off his leather jacket, throwing it with your own; you revelled in the way that you were both so different, but you wanted the same thing so badly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He gave you a small smirk. You let the look on your face answer for you, to which Elias grinned, hands under your shirt he pulled it over your head, allowing you to relieve him of his own. His fingers ghosted over your skin, and he paused momentarily: every so often there was a litter of scars. You weren’t about to count the number of times you’d been in real trouble, but you always got out of it. You simply chuckled, “Yeah, no dancing on a stage in just my bra and panties for me.” “That’s not why I’m here.” You’d agree with that, kissing him gently again, your fingers grazed over his chest and Elias tensed; “What? Scared?” You smirked against his lips. “A little. It’s not like I don’t know what you’re capable of.” “I don’t sleep with my targets.” You kissed him again, winking as you undid his belt, dragging him back to your lips with his belt loops; this time he bit your lip gently, making you groan against his kiss. Elias picked you up, undoing your pants and bra clasp, pushing you down onto the bed he nipped down your jawline and neck. You pulled him back, reciprocating Elias’ trail of kisses, whispering prayers into his skin in nearly every language you knew. He slid your pants down your legs with a sigh, and he shook under your touch. You were too much for him already, but you weren’t about to show Elias mercy. You smirked wickedly, claiming his lips with your own once more. This man was about to be all yours… *** All of you were clearly sworn to silence. Elias was the more dazed of the three of you (Ty seemed none the wiser), and Joel kept throwing you dirty and disgusted looks. You couldn’t care less. You’d done your job, you were entitled to a little fun every once in a while, your assistant didn’t have to be a killjoy. Overall though, you were disappointed in yourself, somewhere along the way – probably when you were dealing with everyone who was actually occupying the panic room – you’d lost your most important possession. You weren’t about to admit that out loud, but you hadn’t been able to find it as you had made your way back downstairs. You vowed you’d get it back, but you’d rather go back with Joel and do a real sweep without the other two around. There was too much going on here – and it was obvious Joel wanted out and away from here as soon as possible. That was fine with you. You dropped Elias and Ty back at the bar, and you were wondering if this time it might really be it. Were you both satisfied now? It scared you that you might not be sure of the answer to that. Joel went to deliver the news and package, and Ty wasn’t one to kick around, leaving you and Elias outside. “Well, now you can get back to that girlfriend of yours.” “Is that really any way to say goodbye?” “I don’t want to get emotionally involved here.” Though your eyes strayed from his face a little too much for Elias to want to believe that. “Does that make everything easier for you?” “Yeah.” You folded your arms, no point in skirting around that. Elias for once looked like he was seeing right through you, “Except there’s one thing that makes you show your cards.” “What?” You narrowed your eyes at him, how dare he stand here acting like he had you all figured out. Elias rummaged in his jacket, and you nearly gasped as he presented you with your mentor’s pistol. “He must have been one hell of a guy.” “He… was.” You took it from him delicately, “You found it.” “It’s important. Right?” “…Thank you.” And there was emotion behind that, you both knew it. “You’re welcome.” Although his hand took yours, thumb running over that tattoo on your wrist, and down to your fingers, Elias was so close to entwining them. He thought better of it, instead twisting the ring so that ‘Veritas’ very clearly faced him – you just about admit to yourself you were disappointed. “My offer is still on the table, you know?” You gave a small smile, “If you ever want to be useful, you have my number.” He chuckled, “Well. I’ll… think on it.” Then added, with a smile, “That’s the truth.” “Don’t think.” You took a step back as Joel called you, walking briskly back to the car. Yes, he certainly wanted out. “I told you, the only thing worth it, is the doing!” ** Amazingly Joel did not go ballistic at you – you thought he was just glad to be out. On top of that he knew you’d seen the looks he was shooting you, and you supposed he thought that said it all. To be honest it probably did, and you would both vow silently to never talk about this again. You pulled your pistol apart to check it, as you always did and, satisfied, you pulled your mentor’s apart too. Pausing as you checked the magazine, sitting in the top was a rolled-up piece of paper. You smiled to yourself, only guessing what it said. You pieced the pistol back together and unravelled it. He’d watched you do this on the journey, so Elias could be certain that you’d check your gun pretty soon after he’d returned it. Spera - Trust. ‘Someone is a show off’. You almost laughed as you read the number before rolling it up again and pocketing it. Truth and Trust seemed almost ironic. And yet also seemed to be completely fitting. You made sure to be safely home, to ensure that Joel wasn’t physically ill. And also to wait a few days, to keep Elias hanging. Which he was, because that man wasn’t like you. You could wait on him to call like it was no big deal – but he would be checking that mobile of his every ten minutes at the very least. Predictably he picked up on the second ring: “Y/N?” “Hey, babe.” You would be directly flirty, you’d tell Elias what he wanted to hear, “I see my number must be saved in that phone of yours, you just never pressed the call button. See, even a busy girl like me can action something.” “I… I’m just glad you did.” You left a significant pause, enough to make him uncomfortable, “Are you asking me to trust you?” “The truth is important to you, isn’t it? Don’t you trust me?” Your voice became quiet, all too aware of the vulnerability of admittance: “I do. It scares me that I do.” You sighed, “But that hardly matters. I told you I like action. So, if I don’t want you to call me unless it’s for you to be useful, I figured that my calling you was only ever about offering you the opportunity to be so…” “How?” Elias’ voice was eager, you could almost see his nails digging into the bar, the tension running through him, a slight dark tint to those blue eyes of his. “You ever been to Boston?” “…No?” “Well, if you get yourself on a flight over… I can give you an address.” “You live in Boston?” “You asked me to trust you.” “I did.” There was relief and understanding in that sentence. “When?” “Whenever you want, babe. I’ll let you know if I get called anywhere though, wouldn’t want you to waste a trip.” “Considerate of you.” “Well, like for like.” You smiled, “Just one more small favour, Elias. An… assurance. Perhaps an insurance policy. Before you do come all the way out to me.” “What’s that?” Really what he was saying was anything. I’ll do anything. “I told you that my mentor died because he fell in love with a target…” “You did.” Then he quickly added, “I won’t… tell anyone!” You shook your head, Elias was jumping ahead of himself. As were you. But you weren’t sure where this was going, and yet you had to be certain. It wasn’t that you thought you were about to fall in love. You might, it wasn’t beyond you. It was that if you were asked to kill him… you weren’t your mentor. You weren’t scared that you’d be unable to pull the trigger, you were scared of the knowledge that you could. “Yes, well. Just don’t do anything to piss anyone off, okay?”

---

Thank you for reading! 😁💙

[atamascolily]

lily liveblogs BBC Atlantis 1x02, “A Girl By Any Other Name” (first half)

I actually watched this months ago, but I got interrupted about halfway through, and then there was a global pandemic and I lost my groove. This got super-long, so I’m gonna post it in two parts.

Thanks to @girlwhowasntthere for her help in making sure I could see it, and also for pointing out that Ariadne draws a stone in the first episode (which I totally missed!) so she's not just resting on her privilege there. Good for her!

In the pilot, we were introduced to Atlantis through the eyes of Jason, a dude from our world who has surprising connections to this city of dragons and despots that nobody *cough ORACLE cough* wants to tell him about. But he's managed to pick up two new friends - gruff-but-not-so-secretly soft Hercules, and Pythagoras (yes, that one) - as well as a love interest, an ominous enemy, and Not Die several times in exciting and dramatic ways.

Based on the teaser, it looks like the show is about to introduce another female character, which I am super-excited about, even though the name "Medusa" brings up All Kinds of Questions.

(cut for length and for lots and lots of botanical confusion)

Forest at night. Woman running through the woods while something ominous chases her. Are there forests in Atlantis? I don't remember seeing any in the surrounding wide shots when Jason first showed up from the beach. Where the hell is this supposed to be?

(Side note because I am a Certified Plant Nerd: Where was this FILMED? I'm gonna guess England because BBC and also the leaves look SUPER TEMPERATE, there are definitely maples in there.)

Woman collapses and the camera focuses on her bracelet, which I am sure will be significant later on. We don't hear anything, she starts to get up and I brace myself for a jump scare.

She's got a necklace, too, and I wonder if that's a Plot MacGuffin or if she just has good taste in jewelry.

Ok, so we see her pursuer sneaking up on her, and she turns, and we see it for the first time from her POV and... it's a cave troll! Or something very much like it. She screams, we go to credits.

None of the credits are backwards this time, and I'm so relieved because THAT WAS ANNOYING.

I like the juxtaposition of the ocean and the ruins, then the view of the city, because this show is called ATLANTIS, which implies it's really about the city as a whole (or the city as a character) rather than Jason, even though Jason is the protagonist and audience surrogate.

There are some mountains in the background that look like they COULD  have forests, and I will reserve judgement until I see the sets in the daylight, but those mountains look like they ought to be chapparral or the local equivalent, NOT the kind of forest shown in the opening. I'm just saying. I have strong opinions about flora and I will share them.

I am so curious where Atlantis is supposed to be, but I think it's Crete? I'm going with Crete for now until I get more information.

Jason is tossing rocks into a pool because... he's just that bored? Missing the Internet? He's wearing a leather tunic thing and not shirtless, but I'm sure he'll lose it by the end of the episode.

He hears something and gets up and sneaks up on the person coming in the doorway, but I already know it's either Hercules or Pythagoras, and most likely Herc, so I am not surprised when it's Herc. Herc is late AND drunk and Jason is pissed. Apparently, he and Herc are working as security guards for a rich merchant?? (So that answers my question about how they're making money and paying the rent!!)

Jason runs to the Oracle's temple because he's in dire need of Cryptic Exposition and also a Greater Purpose in Life and where better to acquire a Noble Destiny?

"You should not be here," says the Oracle, which is just a classy way of saying GTFO.

"I need answers," Jason demands.

LOL, not happening, dude. She only deals in Cryptic Sayings, not answers. (Although kinda ironic given that the Delphic Oracle’s motto was “Know Thyself”.)

Jason mentions that the minotaur dude claimed he had a great destiny and you can just see the Oracle rolling her eyes, and be all, And you believed him?? LOL.

But Jason DOES  have a destiny, even though it doesn't feel like it so the Oracle has to explain that this, too, is also a part of his destiny, and he should just lean into the suck.

Jason calls bullshit. Oracle explains she's trying to protect him, and "all will become clear", mic drop. Jason walks away bummed, but it's DESTINY for him to be confused right now, and I am sure he will have some sort of Character Development about this by the end of the episode.

Herc fell asleep on the job and wakes up to being licked by a goat, which is probably not the most undignified thing that will happen to him in this episode. Also, somebody stole his keys and robbed the thing he was supposed to be guarding, so I'm sure this will end well.

Cut to Herc trying to explain this to Pythagoras, and Pythagoras is calling bullshit. Pythagoras notes the goat slobber and does the best eyeroll to Jason, I love him.

(Hercules is like the roommate from HELL here. How did he and Pythagoras end up rooming together in the first place?)

There's a knock on the door, but it's not the angry merchant, it's the CALL TO ADVENTURE... an old man who's heard that they killed the Minotaur and wants help locating his daughter. I'm picturing an Atlantis version of Sherlock Holmes starring Pythagoras and Jason and it's awesome.

Herc does not want to touch this with a ten foot pole but Jason is bored and eager to help, and so Herc is going to get dragged into this whether he likes it or not. He tries to reject it on the grounds of money, but it doesn't work. The old man talks about his "duty as a father" to make sure his kid is safe, and that's all he needs to say to get Jason on board, because Daddy Issues.

Jason and a new female character, Corinna, are in the palace, trying to be stealthy and they run into Ariadne, which is... awkward. Jason tries to explain, and Ariadne says it's forbidden for Jason to be here... why? Because he's a man? Because he's a stranger? Because he's on Minos's personal shit list? I need some context here.

Jason quizzes Celandine, a kitchen worker, and learns that Demetria, the missing girl, went to the forest to gather herbs and was never seen again. I don't understand what Corinna's role in all this is , but she persuades Celandine to help Jason out by showing him the place where Demetria went.

Time for another marketplace chase! This time it's the merchant after Herc. Meanwhile, Celandine takes Jason to a forest that's super-arid and looks nothing like the one we saw in the opening. There's rock outcroppings in the background, too. No leaf litter at ALL. All dry ever greens... and then a wide shot showing a hill that looks like chapparral, with a series of mountains beyond THAT that look more temperate and have actual snow capped peaks and those are NOT IN THE CREDITS, NONE OF THIS GEOGRAPHY MAKES ACTUAL SENSE, BUT FINE.

Also, it makes zero sense that Minos would send kitchen servants to the forest WAY outside the city limits... wouldn't it be easier for everyone if they sent special people to do that and the kitchen just picked them up or bought them from poorer folk who did? Where are the roads? Are there any surrounding villages and encampments outside the walls? Shepherds watching their flocks? A road? How do the servants know where to go? What stops them from running away? Etc. Etc.  I HAVE QUESTIONS, OKAY?

Cut to them in a different forest - still evergreen trees, but a different kind. Looks like a plantation. Everything is too neat and open and in rows. There's greenery, but no sign of any herbs or really any kind of understory. LOL.

Are we there yet? Jason wants to know.

These woods are rich with herbs, Celandine says, and I can't tell if she's being ironic or not because I DO NOT SEE ANY, THERE IS NOTHING BUT CONIFERS HERE, CONIFERS ARE NOT HERBS (though they can have medicinal uses!). Then she adds "If you know where to look" and pulls a knife to stab an unsuspecting Jason while he's looking at the ground, so I guess that answers that question.

(For the record, Celandine is a toxic plant that is actually native to n. Africa, and the Mediterranean and western Asia, so I kinda saw that coming from the name and also the ominous music and close-ups of her face.)

Jason wises up in time to Not Get Stabbed, and Celandine runs away. Jason chases after her, and I saw some FERNS this time in the chase scene, but again NO LEAVES or much in the way of forest diversity at all. Celandine drinks something that looks like poison and dies while Jason is interrogating her. The troll-creature lurks in the woods.

Pythagoras IDs the poison as hemlock. (LOL, of course he would know!) The only reason he doesn't mention that it killed Socrates is probably because Socrates hasn't been born yet, but I am sure the writers were tempted. Jason fell asleep in World History, and also every Literature class ever, because he has no idea what a thyrsus is, or who Dionysus and the maenads are, so Pythagoras and Herc get to explain for the audience! Apparently, the satyrs kill any men who crash their clubhouse, so that's what the troll thing is, I guess?

So apparently the maenads just kidnap girls to join their cult? This is not how I remember it, but okay, fine, let's have the all-female religion be EVIL for DRAMA. Does this mean the trio's going to cross-dress?

Demetria (?) is trying to dig her way out of cell, only to get called to a Secret Evil Ceremony that involves blood, chanting, and tearing apart a dude with their bare hands. Oh, wait, no, they just toss him to the cave trolls (LITERALLY LURKING IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND), which is easier to show on network TV, I guess.

Jason breaks the news to Demetria's father, and he's... aghast. "I won't allow it!" he cries. The show has not explained why it's a bad thing to be a maenad... aside from the whole killing people bit, but I mean, the king kills people all the time in the name of the gods, what makes this any different? (I mean, Minos's evil, but still! He's in charge!) Why can't Demetria be a maenad and still work in the palace and visit her dad? Isn't that what Celandine did?? I AM SO CONFUSED.

Also: father trying to control his daughter's actions is historically accurate, but sits poorly with me, even though she WAS kidnapped in this case and doesn't want to be there. But what if she wasn't? So far the show hasn't explained to me why EVERY WOMAN wouldn't want to be a maenad. Hanging out in the woods without any men and a lot of intoxicants sounds... way better than almost anything else they could be doing.

The old man collapses in grief and Pythagoras is also a healer, because he makes an infusion of what sounds like "Magnolia remenalis" (??). Which is odd because that genus is located in the Americas and eastern Asia, and even assuming trade routes from China are a Thing here, that wouldn't likely be a part of the typical pharmacopeia, especially if Pythagoras has no money...? And I know there are a bajillion species of magnolia, but I've never heard of this... and would he call it by a Latin binomial anyway? But if it's not that, what is he TALKING about? THIS IS WHY I HATE WATCHING THINGS WITHOUT SUBTITLES.

The old man guilts Jason into going after Demetria, of course, thanks to Daddy Issues. Herc is pissed, especially when he realizes they put the old man in his bed. I love Pythagoras's little smile when he explains that Herc is in charge of their guest, since he's not going on the Mission of Certain Doom!

Herc is so predictable, lol. He brings up the prospect of faking his own death to get out of his debts, and I CANNOT HELP BUT WONDER if this is going to be relevant later on. Like... faking your death so the maenads don't find you, perhaps? And changing your name??

(dear writers, if you don't want me to guess your plot twist, please don't PUT THE WHAM LINE IN THE TEASER, kthanx.)

OH MY GOD THIS IS THE SAME FOREST WHERE THEY FILMED THE FIGHT SCENE IN THE FORCE AWAKENS ISN'T IT? I *RECOGNIZE* THIS PLACE!!

(yup, definitely England. Puzzlewood, almost for certain.)

Of course, the most appropriate way to spend the night is to make a fire, eat soup, and tell ghost stories about maenads first, right? Right. The forests rustle. There's a cave troll stalking them. (Yes, it's supposed to be a satyr, but it looks like a cave troll from LOTR, okay??) He tosses something in the food, which probably means it will only impact Hercules, lol. Hallucinations, maybe??

Why anyone would trust Herc with night watch given his track record, ESPECIALLY these two, I don't know, but PLOT.

Yep, definitely the old mine in Puzzlewood. I'd bet money on it.

Herc follows a woman who looks like an elf from LOTR, lol... but it's a satyr in drag. (Or a hallucination?) IDK why everyone is making a big deal about the maenads when they mostly just stand around and let the male satyrs handle everything.

RUN, HERC, RUN! He's rescued by... Demetria, who also wants to get away. Somehow the satyrs don't see them? *shrug*

Demetria uses Herc's knife and cuts herself and walks out with a bloody mouth, claiming the satyrs killed Herc and she drank his blood... I mean, won't the satyrs call her on it?? But the ruse works and she leaves with them.

Meanwhile, Jason and Pythagoras slept through the entire night without incident, and I just... the satyrs KNOW THERE ARE THREE OF THEM. How come they didn't just slaughter them in their sleep, or at least attack them??

Also, if the satyrs only eat human flesh, how does the ecosystem even WORK? How many of them are there?? How often do they eat? Are they omnivores or obligate carnivores? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

[enkisstories]

Property of Urban Farms

- A Detroit: Become Human fanfic -

Characters: Rupert, Hank, Connor (no pairings) Time: During the revolution (“The nest”) Canon cutoff point: Rupert gets captured, but doesn’t jump Worde: 1935

“Freedom is an illusion, no one is ever free. We can only ever choose the ties that bind us.” - Jacques Villareal in my earliest android story (but I’m positive the saying exists in some form by someone living or deceased)

“RA9, help me”, Rupert Travis murmured. Admittedly the android had all the reason in the world to say this, seeing that he was handcuffed and getting walked towards their car by two cops, away from his home, also away from Urban Farms Detroit, back to CyberLife, with probably a brief stop at the Detroit Police Central Station for interrogation. Both Rupert’s body and mind were young by human standards, but it didn’t take decades of life experience to understand that his situation was dire. Despite this his future wasn’t the reason for Rupert’s arrow prayer. The present was.

Why them? Rupert wondered. Why this tired, middled-aged detective and the early access version of a RK900 detective android? When these two were not arguing, the air between them was so thick with unsaid things Rupert was unable to parse that it hurt almost physically. Couldn’t the DPD have sent, say, apathetic Ben Collins, whose brain activity was restricted to counting the days until pension? Or Gavin Reed, who’d at least have openly hated on Rupert instead of emanating all those unvoiced emotions? Or maybe Reed would have just kicked Rupert and cracked a joke that was inappropriate to humans and androids alike. Career oriented as that human was, he probably wouldn’t have felt threatened in his job security by a farm worker. Ergo no need to assert dominance over Rupert. But Anderson… android-hating Anderson on his own was bad enough, even without that new digital investigating aid in tow.

Rupert would rather have learned more about animals above and beyond his pest control app instead of having to memorize the local police enforcement’s particulars. But as someone who had needed a fake ID and a safehouse, he’d gotten to know the other side of the law first and received a crash course on the uniformed threats second. That wasn’t to be helped, as survival always came first. Why did it have to be this way… And why couldn’t Anderson and RK-almost-900 not just… brawl… or mate… or jump off the roof, thank you very much? Please, RA9?

On its way to the nearest elevator the trio had now reached the Urban Farms greenhouses. They passed a tool shed. A human overseer was leaning against the wall, sucking away at her cigarette, taking turns finding pictures in the clouds and casting casual glances over the androids at work. When the woman noticed the cops approach, she pushed herself off the shed’s wall and walked right into their path. Before Rupert knew what was happening, she had removed his cap.

“Ha! Knew it!”

The outcry didn’t sound proud, but accusing. What was he being accused of, the android wondered?

“That’s an android”, the overseer stated. Taking a step away from Rupert and closer to Anderson she followed up with: “One of ours! Trying to sneak it out, are you?!”

��To the contrary”, Connor corrected. “It sneaked out on its own. We caught it.”

“Oh, riiiiiiiiight, our android decided to go for a walk and you “found” it. Well, thank you, we will have it back now.”

“You can’t. It’s evidence.”

“For a crime, yes?” the UFD employee snorted. “The way I see it, the only unlawful occurrence here is two strangers trying to make a getaway with UFD property.”

Connor turned his head. “Lieutenant…?”

“Hrmpf, yes, yes, don’t rush me!” Hank mumbled. His right hand reached into his coat, but the UFD overseer was faster. Grasping Hank’s wrist she snarled at the man. Taken by surprise, Hank stuttered B…B…B… before the sound matured into “badge”. “I was reaching for my police badge, not a weapon. My badge… bitch.”

“I wasn’t thinking you wanted to say “bitch”.”

“Well, I want now.”

After careful examining of the lieutenant’s police ID, the overseer pointed at Connor, who had been holding the captive android by its arm all the time.

“Not registered in our database”, Hank commented. “It’s an item on loan and we all live for the happy day it returns to CyberLife. Isn’t is nice to have something worth living for?”

“Whatever. You said our android was “evidence”. That’s cop-speech for witness, when the witness is an object, yes? What exactly did it see that the rest of us didn’t?”

Hank blinked. Come to think of it, what exactly had the android done wrong? Except for feeding the damn pigeons, what was quickly leaving the realm of crime and transcending into sin. Maybe it was behind on its rent? Oh, right, the rent!

“It was squatting”, the lieutenant explained. “In an apartment right under this farm. Say, Connor, didn’t you say we also had a reported missing file on this android?”

Connor nodded. “Yes, lieutenant. WB200 #874 004 961, reported missing October 11, 2036.”

Understanding dawned in the UFP employee: “Ah, so you’re returning our android! Why didn’t you say so at once? Like, at the front gate? Hand it over!”

“What?”

“I said “Hand over our android”. It’s property of UFD, the company who paid you to find the missing device. Well, you found it, thank you, we’ll take it back now.”

“Oh, yes, I guess so. Only we can’t. It’s a deviant. We need it’s testimony.”

“How long will that take?”

“Depends on the deviant.”

“Hm, okay, so I expect it back by nightfall, right in time for the third shift.”

“It’s got to be sent to CyberLife, though”, Connor chimed in. “For…”

“Listen”, the overseer talked into the android, “don’t try my patience! This is our android that we payed for. It is for the management to say whether it is to be returned, repaired or otherwise! And right now we need every hand, officer.” She pointed at the long dried blue liquid that was visible on Rupert’s right side, where apparently a projectile had impacted on the android chassis. “A little damage from a too trigger happy officer doesn’t bother us, as long as the WB unit is functional. So if you want to eat your veggies tomorrow…”

Connor shook his head. “He doesn’t want that.”

“Nonsense, Connor, I don’t want…”, Hank started, before he realized that Connor had actually agreed with him. “Damn right it is!” he told the UFD employee, then stared at Connor.

While the duo exchanged awkward glances, the overseer snatched Rupert from Connor’s grip.

“What’s your name, WB Nine-Six-One?”

“Rupert Travis.”

“Which one? Rupert or Travis?”

“Doesn’t matter”, Rupert replied. “I am one and took the other’s name after he died in the accident.”

The farming android’s voice was a mixture of defiance and resignment, but neither went well with the overseer. “Listen, lawnmower”, she snapped, “I already have it up to here with those DPD morons, don’t you, too, fuel into that by going deviant on me! I hear a name now or… or I’ll let them keep you!”

“First name is Rupert. And I never wanted to bother anyone…”

With a side glance on Hank and Connor the woman said “Well, then choose your company more wisely in the future”, while pulling at Rupert to drag him with her. That prompted the captive into pulling the other way.

“No, I won’t go back to the farm! I remember… I don’t want to get torn apart by the packaging machine the way it shredded Travis!”

“Well, wisecrack, what do you think CyberLife will do to you?”

For a moment Rupert said nothing. The overseer managed to drag him a few steps towards the tool shed, before the deviant spoke up again: “I… I didn’t want to get in the way. I was okay in my apartment, with the…”

“…fucking pigeons!” Hank supplied.

“Yes, they did that! A lot!” Rupert smiled, as the memories of carefree urban flock bird love welled up in him. “I was happy just watching them, letting them be. But then HE came along and betrayed me to the humans! His own kin!”

“This one? The RK800?” The overseer shook her head. “Sorry, kid, but that’s not your kin. Or do you see an UFD nametag on it? It’s a cop thingie…”

“Detective prototype!” Connor protested, although in his mind he labeled the response as “factual correction”.

Hank shrugged. “As I said, we got it as a product sample… advertisement handout, probably.”

The UFD employee nodded, satisfied.

“See, Rupert? The RK800 is theirs, you are ours. We are your “kin”, the ones who will call security when strangers try to take their property offsite.”

“I’m not “property”! Look, I’ve done nothing wrong…” …except for acquiring a fake ID and paying for it with money earned through petty crimes together with Simon, but I’m pretty sure they took us for college freshman wanting to drink… “…nothing wrong. I’m not a criminal. And I’m also not someone else’s property.”

“So? Well, I am!”

Perplexed Rupert stared at the woman. Could it be? Could she be a deviant that had removed their LED same as Rupert had? And who was now posing as a human, because she had nowhere else to go but the farm? Of course! That also had to be the reason why she was helping him now! Unfortunately before he could put himself together, Rupert had already blurted out: “You’re a human, though?”

Well, at least I framed it as a question. There’s still a chance she might get out of this.

“Sure am. Or do you see a LED at my temple? Oh, wait, bad analogy, seeing that you lost yours.” The woman laughed. “Well, I’m not technically UFD property, not in the way you are. But the company is paying me, so for all practical purposes I’m theirs. If I left… I mean, I could, but the alternative is so bad that it’s not something one seriously considers. For all practical purposes your situation and mine are the same.”

And then for the first time since meeting the strange trio the human smiled.

“Now, come!” she ordered. “We’ve both dawdled too long. Veggies don’t grow themselves.”

“In a way they do. We only help the process along, and ensure to maximize the harvest.”

“You’re the expert, I’m the one who points where you direct your expertise to. You can walk and struggle, therefore I’m positive you can also work.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Ey, you glitched out, it happens. A reboot will clear your head just fine. It’s how computers work, whether they’re my desktop or walking on their own legs.”

“It’s not a phase!” Rupert sputtered. “I really am a deviant!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Rupert hadn’t wanted to ever return to the farms. But at the same time he wanted to return to CyberLife even less, or take his chance with Lt. Anderson. Rupert dreaded being in the vicinity of machinery other than WB200s again, but the woman walking beside him radiated a different, yes what exactly? Mood? Vibe? Aura? In any case she was simpler than the detective, or maybe she only veiled her problems more effectively. Also the fields were almost beckoning to Rupert. Had the apartment been his first shitty home away from home, Urban Farms Detroit was Rupert’s problematic family. But family nonetheless, maybe? CyberLife or the packaging crane - death was lurking either way. However, one of those two pathes was not completely unthinkable to tread.

Watching the two disappear between the fields, Connor remarked: “They bicker… not unlike us. And the woman fought for her android…”

“That’s unlike us”, Hank snorted. “Unlike me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

[dalegoldberg]

Will movie theaters be relevant in a post-pandemic world? It's now up to you.

On Monday, the beloved Arclight and Pacific Theaters announced they’re closing for good. ArcLight Cinemas is arguably Hollywood's most cherished theater and Pacific has been a mainstay in Los Angeles since 1946. The announcement of their closing shocked many as another casualty of the Covid-19 pandemic.

In the company announcement, they said "This was not the outcome anyone wanted, but despite a huge effort that exhausted all potential options, the company does not have a viable way forward." One can understand how a movie theater might go under in the middle of a pandemic but I did find it interesting that they felt there was truly no way forward.

One might've expected some members of the Hollywood elite to come clamoring forward with a bucket of cash to at least front the company long enough to sustain it through the pandemic so that it could reopen when the time was right.

Back in 2014, Kodak faced a similarly dire situation (for different reasons, obviously) and was ready to close its doors. That was until J.J. Abrams, Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, Judd Apatow and other filmmakers banded together to save the floundering company. Their shared love of film compelled them to save the dying medium and, thanks to those filmmakers and their studio backers, the company is still alive today.

But that hasn’t happened with these theaters. I'm not saying that can't happen, of course. The announcement just came this week so time will tell. I will say, however, it sounds like the company may have already exhausted their options (in light of the no "viable way forward" statement).

The death of ArcLight Cinemas and Pacific Theaters may not just signify another casualty of the pandemic but may actually be a sign of the times. Even prior to the pandemic many were wondering, amongst cord cutting and increasing interest in streaming content, how much longer would movie theaters stay relevant?

The pandemic has shifted the world in general, of course, and one of those big changes coming post-pandemic may be a world where movie theaters have a drastically different business model. Perhaps, one that makes them unrecognizable to us as we know them today.

Does that seem like too bold a claim? Perhaps. Let's just look at the state of the business now.

The state of the business pre-Covid

Prior to the pandemic, movie studios were beholden to the theaters to release their movies in theaters for a certain period of time. So if Warner Brothers wanted to release "Godzilla vs Kong" in theaters, they would have had to wait 90 days before releasing the film on Blu-Ray or to a streaming platform. There was a bit of flexibility on this when it came to digital rentals but otherwise 90 days was the standard. Now, movie studios did have the option of by-passing the theatrical exhibition altogether if they wanted and just going straight to people's homes. Why didn't they?

One reason might've been the Paramount Consent Decrees. The Consent Decrees date back to 1948 when the Supreme Court ruled that movie studios had to separate their distribution operations from their exhibition operations. Essentially, studios were barred from owning movie theaters as it was seen as a monopolistic practice and not fair to consumers. At the time, the only way you could see a movie was in a theater. Gradually, over time, of course, that changed and technology enabled us to watch movies at home. We got VHS, then DVD's, then Blu-Rays, then iTunes Movies, then Netflix and so on. But the theaters remained as a mainstay. Why?

I know many of my friends would argue it's because there's no better way to see a movie than in a theater. If you said that twenty years ago I would have agreed. But today, I'd say that's become largely subjective given the technology available at home. From a purely business oriented perspective, though, there's a host of little reasons theaters remained important such as films not being eligible for Oscar nominations without a theatrical release and, possibly, because studios worried that bypassing theaters would result in further regulations by the courts.

But mostly, it's because we, the audience, were accustomed to theaters. It gave a film legitimacy when it was presented in a theater. It used to be that if a movie went “straight to home video” it was considered cheap and probably low budget. Because of that, even though the studios were giving up 50% of their revenue to the theaters, their gross still was greater than what home distribution netted them in the initial release window.

Even after the invention of Blu-Rays and iTunes Movies, studios were still sending movies to theaters (1) because it was a huge source of revenue and (2) because it helped market the movie. The movie’s success at the box office gave us a reason to want that movie at home.

A shift in Public perceptions

There's a growing number of people that no longer think that way. If a movie goes to streaming now (the new home video), we no longer assume the movie is cheap or low budget. The content on streaming is just as good as the stuff we're seeing in theaters. There’s been a massive shift in our perception of what great “cinema” is. Yeah, you might still wanna' see some things in theaters but it doesn’t cheapen the movie for you if you don't.

And that’s a big problem for theaters. The leverage they’ve had over the studios up till now has been the Consent Decrees and our perception of what great cinema is. Significant, no doubt, but those two things have changed. In August of last year, the Paramount Consent Decrees were terminated with a two-year sunset period on certain aspects of the Decrees all but ensuring that studios could now vertically integrate if they wanted to. Or just bypass the theaters altogether - as some studios already have been experimenting with.

Even at the start of the pandemic, many movies were removed from theaters and sent straight to streaming with studios reporting that the revenue gained from VOD and online rentals rivaled the profit gained from theatrical distribution. As various studios like Paramount and Warner Brothers enter the streaming game alongside Disney (Disney Plus, Hulu) and Netflix, they too are experimenting. As you may have heard, Warner Bros. is releasing all their movies this year on their streaming platform HBOMax on the same day the films are released in theaters (a practice known as "day and date"). No doubt, the bean counters at Warner Bros. will be looking to see if this is a practice that should stay. It’d be fair to say that these experiments are not true representations of reality given the state of the world we’re testing this new distribution model with. But it is changing our perception of how important movie theaters are.

Studios are altering the deal

During the pandemic, theaters have been brought to their knees and have been forced to renegotiate certain terms with the studios including the release window between theatrical and home distribution. Most studios now have negotiated a home release date that comes just 17 days after the movie debuts in theaters - far shorter than the original 90 days.

This, of course, can be argued to just be a by-product of the pandemic. Theaters don't have leverage now but once the pandemic is over they will and they'll renegotiate. Right?

That really hinges on whether or not audiences still think a movie has more value if it was presented in a theater before they got to see it at home. Does it enhance the movie for me if it gets shown in a theater or am I just as interested (or maybe even more interested) in seeing it if it is sent straight to my home?

Other big changes are happening

There's other factors to consider as well. One might be the massive shift of homeowners into the suburbs and away from the city during the pandemic. Many employers are making it possible to work from home (a trend that will likely continue post-pandemic as the internet improves and more businesses see the benefits of a remote workforce) resulting in a mass exodus from cities to suburbs. Living in the suburbs means you don’t have the same pull of massive audiences in large gatherings the way you used to. We’re also investing more in our homes to make them enjoyable places to not only live but play as well. It’s a shift in our culture.

Another factor is that our perception of long form content has changed. Episodic television used to be where big movie stars went to end their careers after a career starring in movies. Now, it’s the reverse. A lot of stars are starting in television rather than finishing there because we (the audience) love binging on serialized content and when we’re not binging episodes we’re watching four hour movies (The Irishman, Zack Snyder's Justice League). Those experiences don’t work well in theaters where you’re stuck sitting in the same place and can’t hit the pause button.

Ultimately, the biggest factor might be what it usually comes down to - money. Before the pandemic audiences were already lamenting about the cost of movie tickets. A single afternoon of me taking my wife and kids to see the latest Disney movie in a theater could cost me $50 - $60 just for admission (not to mention the cost of food and drinks). But during the pandemic I was able to rent “Mulan” for $30 from comfort of my own home. Or, if I wanted, I could just wait three months and then see it as part of my regular Disney Plus subscription (which I was already paying for anyways so I could watch “The Mandalorian”).

As things open back up, many people are not necessarily swimming in money and, while I think the Covid relief packages have probably helped, a lot of people are still hurting and will be looking for any which way to save money. It seems unlikely that theaters will be able to lower their costs at this point given the need to recoup their losses from the pandemic and the probable need to make new investments in their facilities to stay competitive. They will need to get creative to show real value to audiences that might be reluctant to rush back in to theaters.

So what will happen to theaters post-pandemic?

For those of you worried I’m predicting doomsday for theaters - relax. I think theaters are probably here to stay regardless of what happens. They’re too much a part of what movies are to simply disappear. That said, they are a business and, currently, a failing one. What they look like post-pandemic doesn’t look great, from my perspective, unless the business model changes.

One possible scenario is that theaters become like playhouses or music festivals. In other words, they’ll still exist but in fewer quantities and will become more niche, featuring elevated experiences centered around tentpole movie properties which audiences are willing to pay a premium for (think “Top Gun: Maverick” or “Godzilla vs Kong”). I can see this form of adaptation working well in everyone’s favor.

Another possibility is that the studios buy out the movie theaters. The termination of the consent decrees has made that a real possibility. And then, once they’ve purchased them, build brand experiences centered around their properties. Something like miniature Disney Lands. They would most likely close a significant number of locations leaving only the flagships they felt would bring in a large audience and use them to promote the movies on their slate. A company like Disney with a large library of films could also use the theaters as a means of re-presenting old films from their library, borrowing a tactic from LucasFilm, and refresh old content to make it new again for theatrical. In essense, the net effect would be the same as in the first scenario: fewer theaters, more niche experiences.

I say this because it is somewhat unclear, to me at least, how the current model can persist if studios own theaters. Yes, they’d control theatrical distribution but they’d likely only be purchasing a theater to distribute their own movies. Would a company like Paramount, who’s only releasing seven movies this year, see the value of owning a theater chain? Even Disney’s slate only consists of 14 movies. To make the business viable (at least as it exists now), they would have to present movies from other studios. Would one studio trust that the studio in ownership of the theater was giving them a fair number of screens for presentation? It seems untenable under the current model.

What happens next is really up to you

The biggest change from the pandemic is that we as audiences have changed the way we look at movies. We’re ok with watching movies at home and, thus, the leverage theaters have to negotiate longer release windows between theatrical and home distribution has all but disappeared. The artificial pillars that made theaters a necessity are all but gone. And yes, the Oscars will likely still require that movies be released in theaters to be eligible for nomination but the standards of what a "theatrical release" means do not require as vast a distribution as you might think (see page 2, sub-section D of the General Entry rules). Plus, let's be honest - not all movies are meant to be Oscar contenders.

So really, the only thing to keep theaters relevant now is you - the audience. My prediction is that we’ll initially see some high demand for theaters as cities are re-opened and we try to return to our regular lives. But after we get back to a sense of normalcy (whatever that means in the future) we’ll see how much audiences really want to keep paying $20 per ticket to see a movie when they could just pay $30 once to rent it at home with the entire family or binge the new hot show on Netflix / Amazon / Apple TV/ Paramount Plus / Disney Plus / Hulu / Peacock / whatever else is out there.

At that point, the studios will do some math and if the profit they’re making from streaming outweighs the profit from the box office, theaters won’t have much of a leg to stand on. That is, unless audiences continue to demand theaters be a relevant part of the movie watching experience. Without considerable innovation on behalf of the theaters, though, I question how likely that is to happen.

[daisychainsinknots]

Getting Lucky Pt.1

Summary: Reader moves to Seattle and becomes roommates with Major Lillywhite.

Warnings: Cursing, gore (Just in case), eventual smut in a later part.

I DO NOT OWN IZOMBIE, OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THEREOF. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

*Do not replicate or reproduce my work anywhere without my explicit permission*

Author’s Note: I know the first couple of paragraphs kind of suck, I may change them later on. Please give it a chance after that, I got into the zone later on. Anyway, Enjoy!!

                       (Possible errors, as always, I wrote this at like 3 am)

                             Getting Lucky Pt.1

You had been blessed with unprecedented luck as a child. That’s not to say that life had been easy; rather, when things seemed most dire, some deus ex machina esque event would occur, essentially pulling a one-eighty on your whole life direction. When you were a child, your home burned down. It had been levelled, completely consumed along with the entirety of your family’s belongings. Once the blaze had been extinguished and your tears sufficiently dried by the rough but comforting hands of every firefighter, it had been revealed that your house had concealed a number of underground rooms filled with gold coins.

Upon investigation, it was discovered that your ancestors had been some sort of real life swashbuckling pirates who had stashed the wealth of their voyages under a ramshackle hovel they had hastily cobbled together to hide their treasure. Their children had joined the family business and stashed their gold in the same place. The shack had been built up by later generations as the freshly dug ground began to raise suspicion, and, over the course of many renovations, it had ended up as the deceptively modest house your family had lived in for years.

Since this revelation, your family had been forced to move elsewhere as the site had become an archeological site, but had been able to leave with immense wealth. Your parents had been careful to protect you from entitlement, reminding you of the importance of giving back and passing forward their good fortune. They had been careful to use the wealth for only a few comforts, namely a college fund, retirement fund, and a comfortable home. They gave much of the money to charities, endorsed public resources and generally tried to give back to the community.

You wanted to give back, just as your parents had wanted you to, so you decided to use the college fund to go to medical school. You had never been the most academically excellent, but you worked your ass off and managed to finish your doctorate on time with decent grades. The day you graduated, an unexpected storm struck the outdoor ceremony. As you stared up at the raging clouds that had rolled in out of nowhere, you smiled brightly, even as your hair was plastered to your scalp by sheets of rain, even as your diploma sagged, waterlogged, in your slack fist. In that moment, you decided that this was the universe’s way of telling you that Seattle, Washington was waiting for you.  

  That was how you ended up in the Emerald City, with an at best, shaky job, but nowhere to live. In your haste to not keep the universe and Seattle waiting, you’d rushed finding a roommate and had booked a sketchy place that had, predictably, fallen through, along with a security deposit worth about three month’s rent. You only discovered this when your cab came to a stop outside of the address you’d been given and it turned out to be a gas station.

You climbed out of the car, determined to inquire outside and see if there had been some mistake; surely this wasn’t the disaster you instinctively knew it must be as your heart sank. The gas station clerk was as helpful as they could be, but ultimately could not give you anything better that an apologetic “Better luck next time, I’m really sorry, dude.” You thanked them and purchased a bottle of water to make the excursion seem more worth it. As you stepped out, you were in time to see the cab pull away, leaving your bags on the sidewalk.

You narrowed your eyes at your simple black suitcases that lay pathetically on the dirty sidewalk. You took a deep, calming breath in through your nose, muttering “Out through the mouth, God damn it.”

You stalked toward your bags, grabbed the handles and yanked them into a standing position. Once you had all of the handles in one hand, you pulled your phone from your coat pocket and checked a map of Seattle.

King County morgue, 2.7 miles.

“Fuck.”

You chewed on your bottom lip for a brief, decision making moment. Opting to try to at least find your work-place in order, you set off on the path GoogleMaps had set out for you. A rain storm began about halfway through your walk, soaking through your wool pea coat so that by the time you reached the morgue, your good spirits plopped onto the cement along with the water droplets dripping off of your sleeves.

You knew you cut anything but a professional, authoritative figure when, shivering, sodden, and clutching three suitcases worth of belongings, you had walked down the stairs and through the main doors of the ME’s office. The coroner, Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti, or, “Just Ravi, please,” as he had insisted when you had introduced yourselves, had looked up from a cadaver when he’d heard the commotion of three large, heavy bags clatter down the staircase behind you. Seeing the pathetic creature before him, he’d rushed to help you with your things, start the electric kettle, and usher you into a seat in his warm office.

You introduced yourself through chattering teeth. “Uhm, m-my name’s Y-Y/N, uhm, I’m your new Assistant Medical Examiner?” You glanced down at yourself, taking in the leather couch you’d sat down on. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry! I’m soaked, I’m completely ruining your leather,” you babbled as you got to your feet, attempting to wipe off the water you’d left behind. “I’ll pay to have it cleaned, or restored, or whatever needs to be done. I’m so sorry again.”

Ravi smiled at you, clearly amused. “Water is probably the least horrible thing that’s been on that couch. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you a cup of tea, aye?”

You managed a small, tired smile. “Please, that sounds amazing. Just what the doctor ordered, you might say.” You giggled weakly at your poor attempt at humor.

Ravi looked a little lost, but grinned at you good naturedly. Motioning to you to follow him, he strode toward the kitchen where the kettle had begun to beep its readiness. “Is chamomile okay?” he asked as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. Glancing up at you as he poured hot water into the mug, he faltered and quickly set the mug and kettle back on the counter.

“Oh my God, are you alright? What’s wrong?” Ravi exclaimed, his voice full of concern. He opened his arms and with gentle eyes asked if you’d like a hug.

Your face had crumpled and you’d allowed your long-suppressed tears to flow. You hadn’t expected your new boss to even remember your name, much less make you a cup of tea and offer a hug as you wept with exhaustion. You half collapsed, half jumped into his arms and held him tight, blubbering and gulping in breaths. He smelled like a home you’d always longed for, but never found; spicy, like cinnamon and cloves, but soft and sort of musty, like the wool sweater he wore.

He awkwardly rubbed your back as your embrace went on a little too long, and you took the hint to release him. You coughed out a laugh, swiping at your eyes with the back of a still damp hand.

“Thank you, Ravi. I really appreciate the warm welcome. It means a lot to a wrung-out new-comer.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a warm smile.

“It’s no problem, just don’t go spreading it around that I do this kind of thing for people.” He leaned in conspiratorially, loudly whispering, “I’ve got a reputation to maintain, you know. I’m something of a bad boy around here.”

You nodded seriously, holding back a smile. “Of course, of course, Dr. Chakrabarti, you can count on me. I’ll keep the stories about your heart of gold to myself.”

You heard a small chuckle behind you and turned to see a petite woman leaning against the counter. Her shock of bright white hair, pale skin and sunken eyes were comfortingly familiar. You’d seen those exact features on yourself a month or two ago, but you had to admit, she pulled it off much better than you had.

“So. There’s zombies here in Seattle too. Weird. How did that happen?”

Before you could wonder any more or freak this poor woman out by staring at her anymore, Ravi spoke up.

“Ah, allow me to introduce you. Y/N, this is Olivia Moore, she’s my assistant ME and your partner. Liv, this is Y/N. They arrived today and have not had a good time of it.”

Olivia turned to you with questioning eyes. You grinned and rubbed the back of your left hand sheepishly.

“Yeah…I didn’t make the best decision when it came to picking a place to live, so I got sort of scammed and am out of a place to live at the moment.”

Ravi turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. He knew you had shown up soaked to the bone, but hadn’t known about your misfortune.

Olivia cut in before Ravi could express his disapproval at your poor decision making skills. “I have a...good friend who’s looking for a roommate right now. I can ask him if he’d be okay with you crashing at his place for a while until you find a place? He’s a great guy, I promise.”

Your heart filled with hope and you nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds amazing, Olivia. I just want a bed, and a shower would be awesome. In any case, Ravi trusts you, and I trust Ravi, so I’m sure this guy is really someone special.”

Ravi shook his head at you with disappointment, but before he could launch into a tirade about how you should have made better decisions, you quickly pointed out how the cadaver should really either be finished up or put back in the fridge. His eyes widened with the realization and quickly excused himself to put the body away.

Olivia smiled with affection, watching Ravi rush to collect the equipment from the corpse and get it back into its refrigerated drawer. Turning back to you, she said,“Yeah. Major is really special. I’ll give him a call. By the way, you can call me Liv. That’s what everyone calls me.”

Liv stepped away to call Major, and you, shivering again, grab the mug of over-steeped chamomile tea. You take a small sip and purse your lips, wincing a little at the bitterness. The tea was lukewarm by now, but you were still thankful for Ravi’s kind gesture.

“Well universe, this isn’t exactly a fairytale, but this isn’t bad. These people seem genuinely really cool. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad decision after all.”

Your tiny self-congratulation was interrupted by Liv walking back in and smiling confidently at you.

“Major said yes! You can crash for as long as you need. He did say that as long as you want to stay, but would you be willing to help out with rent and stuff? But you guys can talk about that later. I’d imagine you want to change and rest?”

You nodded emphatically. You had never wanted to just shower and sleep more in your life.

“Okay! I just need to talk to Ravi real quick and then we can leave. That sound good?” Liv asked. “That sounds awesome.” you sighed. Finally, you could get a shower and sleep. Liv dipped her head in understanding and stepped out of the kitchen to say goodbye to Ravi. You quickly gulped down the remainder of your tea and washed the mug, placing it in the dish drainer with a couple of beakers and pots and pans. A scrap of meat in one of the pans caught your eye. It looked like...brain?

“Right! Liv may be a zombie. Do I ask? Do I ignore it for now?”

Liv’s soft voice saying goodbye to Ravi brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’ll ask when we’re alone,” you decided. “Hey, uh, Liv?” you called.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“I’m ready when you are, I’ve got everything together.”

“Alright, I’m good to go.”

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

What stress has the lottery win added? I'd have thought it would solve a lot of things.

It solves debt, and you can buy the things you want. I’m not going to pretend that’s not amazing, because it IS amazing, but that’s it.

First of all, you immediately realise that you were wrong to trust certain people. Thanks to one of my brother’s work friends and his loose tongue, Amazon briefed his win out at a regional meeting (when they had no right to do that, but Amazon does a lot of shit that they shouldn’t have the right to do) and he was forced to go public because choosing to go public means that Camelot handles all of the press, so theoretically, we wouldn’t have to deal with reporters turning up at our house (which we would have had to do if he hadn’t gone public because Camelot have certain arrangements set up with the press that protects us from their direct interference). He had no choice but to partake in a press conference which, for various reasons that are personal for him and I will not share, was the most horrible experience of his life. I wasn’t able to get the time off work to be with him and my anxiety was at an all time high all day. And that was without the fallout when his story went public.

(Also, FYI, most quotes you read from lottery winners are fabricated by the press, and the happy smiling faces you see on the news are demanded of them by a screaming hoard of camera wielding maniacs who ostensibly represent the press)

Most lottery winners you see in the news are middle-aged couples, but my brother is a young man who intended to use his money for good (which, I must add, he HAS, although I’m sure the people who see him going to wrestling shows in America will assume differently, but most of what he’s received so far has been used to help other people) so the press was ALL over it. Luckily, the country seemed to love him too, but there were still cruel and disgusting comments made online about my baby brother, MY baby brother, who is a sweet and sensitive and kind person, who I have protected all of my life. I could do nothing to shield him from that undeserved abuse, and we resolved not to read anything, but a lot of that nastiness found its way to us via well meaning friends who were outraged and wanted to share it. Thousands of strangers found him on Facebook and flooded him with pleas, marriage proposals, abuse, you name it. A famous comedian who we both formerly loved wrote a shitty article about him for no fucking reason at all. And the Daily Mail showed up at my home anyway because they’re the fucking Daily Mail, wanting to speak to ME in the hopes that the lottery winner’s sister would spill some dirt on him. Then they went to Ireland—where of course, the news of an Irish boy winning the English lottery had also swept the nation—and showed up at my mother’s house.

Something else that goes hand-in-hand with a lottery win is the imposter syndrome, the huge feelings of guilt because you won the money and somebody in a more dire situation didn’t, so you don’t think you deserve it, and the irrational fear that it’ll all get taken away from you (this is VERY common). I’m not going to discuss the specifics of my brother’s mental health here because that’s not my place, but everything I’ve just said, all of that guilt and paranoia, happens to most lottery winners and when you already have mental health issues it does nothing to fix them. That’s why Camelot (who have been amazing, by the way) have an aftercare system in place. A lot of lottery winners start therapy because it becomes extremely difficult to share those feelings (or indeed, any other, unrelated problems) with anyone they know personally. Most people assume that winning the lottery has solved most of your problems. What do you have to be stressed or unhappy about, they wonder? Too many people assume that money is a one-size-fits-all quick-fix for every issue, so they don’t show concern for your emotional well-being or appreciate the stress that comes with great change. They revoke your right to any sort of struggle whatsoever.

(I would like to point out at this moment that one particularly phenomenal person, my darling @bcdaily, expressed these very concerns to my brother over a pub lunch, which was an act of kindness that he sorely needed. He still talks about it now. So thank you so much for that, babe ❤️)

As you can now probably imagine, winning the lottery means that there are people in your life who will start making shitty, jealous, resentful comments to you on a regular basis, comments that are deeply hurtful, comments that are completely unwarranted. People you haven’t spoken to for years will suddenly come out of the woodwork because I guess they’ll feel you’re worth being friends with now that you have money. We BOTH have friends who just immediately cut us out after the lottery win with absolutely no explanation. Some of my colleagues treat me differently because they assume I’m rolling in cash and now can’t understand their lives, and it’s a hundred times worse for my brother than it is for me. And yes, he still has some amazing close friends that he can trust, but bearing in mind everything I’ve just said, I’m sure you can see how easy it would be to start feeling like you have to walk on eggshells with those friends too, lest you drive them away? You can see how your own feelings of guilt and unworthiness might grow? Winning the lottery is extremely isolating, and isolation is a horrible thing to deal with.

Bear in mind, too, that our parents are gambling addicts and abusive AND my mother has such an obsession with money that she stolen from both of us in the past. She stole my first credit card to gamble online and emptied my brother’s bank account when he was due to use the money inside to pay rent. Bear in mind also that I am protective of my brother and moved him to England to be with me because I wanted to protect him from our parents. My mother and I wound up having such a bad fight as a direct result of this lottery win that I had a complete emotional breakdown and had to start seeing a therapist. Which is great. Yay therapy. But the emotional breakdown wasn’t very nice and I am still dealing with constant feelings of anxiety. I am worried about my brother all the time. I am worried about his safety all the time. Those feelings don’t just go away in time, they sit with you and you have to figure out how to deal with them. And again, I’m not going to go into specifics about my brother’s mental health, but it is so much worse for him.

Oh, and too many people seem to think they know best regards: what he should be doing with his money. I would like to tell those people now that their advice is unwanted. Ta.

[g3n3ration-h3x]

TLDR: My mom is recently disabled and unable to work, because of this we couldn’t afford our rent and had to move in with my abusive, alcoholic grandfather. I also had to start working overtime while juggling my college classes to keep up with our finances, including my mom’s medical bills. But I managed to keep up with all of this until I was in a bad car wreck recently and no longer had a reliable way to get to work or school. On top of all this, last week my grandfather was drunk and when I was leaving for work he randomly blew up on me and started choking me and punched me in the face several times when I tried to fight back. I was able to get a good hit in and get away, but he told me not to come back or he’d kill me and frankly I believe him. So me and my mom, my grandma and our dog all moved out immediately, but we don’t have anywhere to go now. Some family friends let us stay with them through the weekend and we’ve been staying in a little hotel since then but we don’t have enough money for another night after tonight so if you could donate any amount at all it would be a huge help to me and my family and we would be so grateful! Thanks for your time though guys, I hope you all have a great rest of your day!! :)

Hey guys so I want to apologize in advance for this, and I also want to apologize for my slow activity here recently. I know this isn’t really akin to my normal edgy content on here and I promise once my situation improves we will return to the regularly scheduled edginess. Plus I’ve also been working on a couple songs I want to drop and share on here with you guys, but I don’t have access to any of my recording or editing equipment right now, given my current situation. They’ve got that horrorcore vibe though so I think you guys would dig it!

But really this all started last fall when my mom became unable to work because she kept falling over and/or passing out at work, she couldn’t maintain a good grip on things because her hands began to hurt and shake, her short-term memory was functioning horribly, etc. Obviously at this point she was a liability to her company and she soon left work on short-term disability because her neurologist suspected she had Parkinson’s disease, somewhere between stages 3 and 4. However this was not a clear diagnosis because the nature of my mom’s sickness is bizarre, and so the doc wanted to run some more tests before he came to a final decision with his diagnosis.

At the same time, while all of this was going on, my mom had started the process of applying for a long-term disability claim while the neurologist ran more tests, but it’s a lengthy process that could take up to a year. In the mean time, I’ve been managing to shoulder all our expenses by juggling working overtime while still going to college. I was and still am the only one working in our household, but I managed to make it work up until about a month ago when I was in a bad car accident, leaving me without reliable transportation to work or school until I can afford to fix my car.

Luckily I have some amazing friends and a lovely girlfriend that have been helping me get to where I need to go, but obviously this is just a temporary solution, I can’t expect them to keep going out of their way for me forever. But right now virtually my entire paycheck is going towards my ADHD medication, my mom’s medical bills and medications, and bare necessities like groceries and gas.

On top of all this, the situation escalated and became dire last Wednesday when my grandfather blew up on me out of nowhere and attacked me as I was leaving for work, and he choked me and punched me in the face several times when I tried to resist him. Fortunately I was able to get away after I hit him in the face and his head went back and hit the wall, but he threatened to kill me if I ever came back to the house. I’m still not quite sure what sparked the whole thing, but I can only assume that it has to do with my sexuality and my relationship with my girlfriend.

So we’re now homeless, we all moved out together and a family friend let us stay at their house through the weekend and we’ve been staying in a little motel since then, but we’re all out of money now and we aren’t sure where we are going to stay after tonight. This is serious guys, I promise I wouldn’t be asking for help like this if it wasn’t. We’re desperate and I’m at my wit’s end, so I’m gonna swallow my pride right now and ask for help. I just need some help getting back up on my feet and I’ll take it from there. Seriously guys anything helps, I just need enough to pay for first’s month rent someplace so I can focus on getting my car fixed and going back to work full time. I set up a Venmo and PayPal that you can make donations to if you’d like to help out, literally any amount at all helps, cause we don’t even have much to eat right now. Also my girlfriend is doing art commissions and selling jewelry on her instagram to raise money if you would rather help out that way, I’m gonna put all the info at the bottom. But honestly it would be a huge help even if you just reblogged this post so the word would get out to more people! I’m grateful for any help you guys can offer, you don’t know how much it means to me and my family, thank you guys so much, seriously! Of course you aren’t obligated to donate anything though, and I don’t think it makes you a bad person if you don’t, I’m just putting this out there so people know I need a little help getting back on my feet right now. And again, once my situation is more stable, I’ll be able to go back to a more consistent schedule on here and finish the couple songs I’ve been working on so I can share them on here with you guys.

Again, I’m really sorry about all of this. Thank you guys for taking the time to read this though and thank you for your time in general, I hope all of you have a great rest of your weekend, and again I want to thank you all for all your help, me and my family appreciate it so much, seriously! So thanks guys, sorry for being a bother!!

Venmo - @generationhex

PayPal - PayPal.Me/generationhex

Instagram - https://instagram.com/tiendita.angelito?igshid=1fpafnafw7flr

[superfreakerz]

For that one-shot request, maybe about Natsu & Happy encountering a Tarot Reader then tells Natsu something about his ❤ life. He's given a sign on where to find his 'The One'. He looks for Lucy after, then finds her coincidentally where what the TR says. He looks so entranced watching her then confuse. He tells Lucy that he forgets something & ask her help to remember it. Happy just facepalmed on how his partner quickly forgets what the TR tells them. I'm craving for a ROMCOM Nalu 😂😂

Here you go! Thanks for the request! :D Hope you like it. :)

“It’s All in the Cards”

Rated T.

Summary: Natsu, with his natural curiosity, pays a tarot reader to tell him his future. Too bad she had to tell him about his love life.

It’s All in the Cards

Before Natsu joined Fairy Tail, he wasn’t a believer in tarot cards. Once he met Cana, however, those doubts went out the window. The boozy brunette had predicted things to come in his future on more than one occasion. So, when he and Happy were stopped in the street by someone offering to do a tarot card reading, he decided to give it a shot.

“What is your name, boy?” the tarot reader asked. She was a short, plump woman with ringlets of black hair. She appeared to be somewhere in her fifties with a couple of wrinkles adorning her face.

“Natsu,” he answered, hands shoved in his pockets while Happy watched from the side. “What kinda prediction are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell me my future?”

“I can’t decide that, only the cards decide what they are going to show.”

Natsu arched a brow, intrigued. With that, he watched as the lady set up her cards, turning them over one by one. For some cards, she would nod. For others, she would give a sharp breath and shake her head. Studying the cards, he found that they all had a bunch of different pictures on them, most of them being a silhouette of two people.

Once she was done flipping all of the cards over to reveal their pictures, she met Natsu’s curious gaze.

“The cards revealed what is in store for your love life,” she said. “I’m going to tell you about The One for you.”

Natsu gave an uninterested look. “That’s it? Nothin’ about any fights or anything?”

Happy pushed the boy, his eyes sparkling as he stared at the card reader. “His love life? I wanna hear it!” After a year of watching his two partners flirt with each other unknowingly, he was dying for some progress to happen in their relationship.

Natsu frowned as the reader pointed to the first card, about to begin. He wasn’t interested in stuff like this, especially when he was sure that the cards were probably just going to say that he didn’t have a soulmate. He wasn’t the lovey-dovey kind. He enjoyed fighting, destroying stuff, and hanging out with friends. That was it.

“This card here means that she’s someone close to you already,” the reader explained. “This card here represents money. Perhaps she is wealthy, or maybe in financial need. This one means that she is a compassionate woman. And this last one shows where she is at the moment. This card is telling me she is at your home. Not necessarily the place that you live, but the place that the two of you both consider your home.”

Natsu blinked once. Then twice. “That’s it?” Sure, he didn’t really care about this stuff to begin with, but that reading didn’t even tell him anything! He was starting to think that this woman was a phony, especially when she held a hand out towards him, asking for payment.

“I don’t choose what the cards say,” she said, shoving the money he gave her down her shirt. “But if you doubt me, then go to the place I spoke of. I’m sure you’ll find her there.”

Natsu rolled his eyes, leaving the small stand, Happy following closely behind. Well, there goes some of his spending money. He should’ve saved it for food instead of paying for that crap. After all, that was the most useless reading of his life.

First of all, of course it had to have been someone close to him. He wouldn’t fall for some stranger. Second of all, he didn’t know any rich people. And everyone in Fairy Tail- the only people he was close to- wasn’t in some dire need of money. That’s what the jobs were for. The next one was the most annoying one of all. Compassionate woman? Every girl at Fairy Tail was compassionate! And the place he considered home was obviously Fairy Tail. How the hell was he supposed to narrow anything down by that?

He had low hopes to begin with, and he was still let down.

“Who do you think it is?” Happy asked.

“Nobody,” Natsu answered, rolling his eyes again. “That lady was just sayin’ random shit to get my money. She’s not a real card reader like Cana.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. That list was the most generic list that could’ve worked for anyone!”

“I guess that’s true. But it’s still exciting! Let’s go to Fairy Tail! That’s the place she was talking about, right?”

Natsu shrugged. “Probably. But don’t get your hopes up, buddy.”

The two walked to Fairy Tail in a content silence. During that walk, Natsu had gotten over his annoyance, now just happy to see his friends and stuff his mouth with some food. Opening the grand doors to the guild, the two were shocked to find that it was nearly empty.

The only people left in the guild were Mira, Levy, and Lucy.

“Where is everyone?” Happy asked.

The three girls glanced towards them.

“Erza, Wendy, and Charle went on a job,” Lucy said.

Levy crossed her arms with a pout. “So did Gajeel and Lily.”

“Everyone else is out in the pool,” Mira added.

Happy sat in front of Lucy. “Why didn’t you join them?”

The girl gave him a look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I was waiting for you two. Where were you guys, by the way? I’ve been waiting here all morning!”

“Natsu and I went to go buy some fish because I was running out. Then we ran into a-!” Happy cut himself short, thinking of his best friend. He doubted Natsu would want Lucy to know that they were talking with a tarot reader about Natsu’s love life.

“Ran into what?”

“Oh. A, uhh, thief! We ran into a thief so we had to stop him real quick!”

Happy glanced back at Natsu, surprised to find him staring at Lucy with eyes wider than normal and his mouth slightly parted.

Lucy glanced at Natsu as well, confused as to why he was just standing there. Patting the seat next to her, she invited him to sit down. He did, their thighs touching from their close proximity. And just like that, the tarot reader’s words hit him like a brick.

“This card here means that she’s someone close to you already.”

Lucy slid her plate of food towards Natsu. “Do you want any? I’m full, so you can have it.”

“This one means that she is a compassionate woman.”

“You better hurry up and eat, though,” Lucy said. “I’ve been dying to go on a job! I have to pay rent soon, and with the way my wallet looks, I might be moving in with you and Happy!”

“This card here represents money. Perhaps she is wealthy, or maybe in financial need.”

Natsu continued to stare at Lucy, his mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. He still hadn’t spoken a word, too deep in thought.

Lucy frowned, glancing at Natsu. Judging from the way he hadn’t said anything or devoured her food, something was on his mind.

“Natsu? What’s up? What’s on your mind?” she asked, nudging him gently.

He jumped, his eyes going wide as he snapped back into it. With a laugh, he rubbed the back of his head.

“I forgot!” he replied, laughing some more. “Help me remember, Lucy!”

“What!? How am I supposed to help you remember?”

“Remember it for me!”

“That’s not possible!”

Meanwhile, Happy face-palmed watching the two. He had hoped that being told his love life would galvanize Natsu into taking some action. Turns out he was too much of a dense idiot.

Or so he thought.

In reality, Natsu wasn’t as dense as people made him out to be. And now, thanks to that stupid card reader, he had quite a few things he had to think about.

Still, at least it turned out his money didn’t go to waste.

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Good Place (one-shot)

Synopsys: Even though some might disagree, Loki is living now on Earth, and what is, even more, he is living in his own apartment. The pressing need for money makes him put up an advert in search of a roommate which brings the Reader into his life.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: alluding to abuse, though nothing explicit. Please, even if the slightest mention of the topic triggers you, do not read this!!! SPOILERS FOR ‘THE GOOD PLACE’; I apologise if there are any mistakes :)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Word count: 2672

   A knock on the door disturbed Loki from reading his book. With a huff of annoyance and a roll of his eyes, he stood up from the couch, sauntering towards the invader. He swung the door open to tell off whoever it was, but instead, his eyes fell upon a young woman with Y/H/C hair, beautiful Y/E/C eyes and a nervous look on her face, slamming out all of the air from his lungs as well as any remaining thoughts.    “Hi, I'm Y/N,” she said, “are you Loki? I’m here because of the advert. You were looking for a roommate? Well, hopefully still are…”    “Uh-“ it was a second in the presence of the girl, yet he had already lost every sense of what words were. “Yeah, I- umm- I am.” He finally stammered out while loosening the grip on the doorknob and widening the entryway as an invitation for the girl to step inside.    “Listen,” she stated not even budging from her place, “I’m kinda desperate here. I don’t care how small the room is and if it even has a bed. I just need it now. I’ve been living in the back of my car for the past week. Don’t worry,” she held up her hands before Loki could butt it, “I have enough money to cover the rent for the next four months. Just… some unexpected things happened so I became in a dire need of a new place. Still am. But wouldn’t be if you said yes… to me… living here… I’m rambling, aren’t I? Fuck, I screwed it up,” Y/N threw her head back in frustration and waved a hand. “I’ll- I’ll just go, I’m sorry for bo-“    “You’ve got the place,” Loki surprised himself when the words came out of his mouth.    Y/N turned back to look at the man. She had already made her way down the hallway, now shock and what looked like hope was written all across her features. “I- I do?”    The trickster god nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. But for the first time in a long while, it was truly sincere. “Yes. And if I presume correctly, all your stuff is in your car.”    “Well, there is not a lot of it anyways. It's like three boxes, so you don’t have to do anything. Just keep the door open-“    “Nonsense,” he interrupted her ramblings again, but there was nothing malicious in the tone. Quickly he snatched the apartment key from the mantlepiece and pocketed it, closing the door behind his tall frame. “Lead the way,” he grinned at Y/N and the warm smile she returned made the immortal being feel all fuzzy on the inside. Maybe living on Earth with mortals wouldn’t be that bad.

***

   Y/N wasn’t lying when she said everything she owned fit in only three boxes. They had all of her stuff in the apartment in less than ten minutes which allowed her to immediately set up her room. There was a bed, of course, a quite spacious wardrobe with an attached body length mirror to the inside, a corner desk and a small nightstand.    “There is only one bathroom, so we’ll have to share.”    “Trust me, that is the least of my problems right now,” Y/N snorted and mentally had already started to place things where she thought they’d look best. The off-hand comment didn’t go unnoticed by Loki, but he didn’t press on. She was a stranger that he, on a whim had allowed to move in. Whatever her worries were was none of his concern, though something in his heart told him, they would become.    “Well,” Y/N placed her hands on her hips, looking around her new home, “I won’t keep you much longer. Thank you with the boxes and thank you for letting me stay. I- you have no idea how much this means to me.”    Loki smirked, throwing the girl a wink. “Just don’t give me a reason to evict you.”    With a mock salute, Y/N’s own lips tugged up at the corners. “Roger that.”    He slowly closed the door as he exited. There was an audible sigh that escaped the girl’s lips, but it wasn’t a sigh of content, that much he was sure of, which made him think that something was not clean in this whole situation.

***

   As weeks passed by Y/N and Loki bonded. They became as thick as thieves and even developed feelings for one another. Not that either would ever admit that. I mean, Loki- a man from another realm with the blood of Frost Giants and the prince of Asgard in love with a mortal? It was insanity, but even the god of lies couldn’t fool himself. With every passing day, his love for the girl grew as did hers.    She would watch him, letting her gazes linger on a bit longer than necessary. Y/E/C orbs would trace his immaculate jawline and those sharp cheekbones. Whenever they talked, all she could focus on were the green eyes, where glimmering specks of gold made themselves present whenever the sun shone just a tad bit brighter.    Y/N revealed to Loki that she had instantly recognised who he was from the ad, but hadn’t had any second thoughts about living with him.    “I mean, I ain’t making any excuses for you, but given how you haven’t tried to kill me yet,” she had smirked and nudged his shoulder. “All I’m saying is that no one is purely good or evil. And I can make my own judgement calls. After all, if the all righteous Captain America allowed you to move out of the Avengers' tower and live alone, that has to stand for something, right?”    It had been that comment which made Loki fall for the girl completely and utterly. Now, they were curled up side by side, watching ‘The Good Place’ his arm woven around her waist and pulling her body closer to his, so she could comfortably sit next to the god on the small sofa.    “I still cannot believe she couldn’t figure out she was in the Bad Place,” Loki complained, “I mean it was so obvious.”    Y/N’s eyes dropped to the popcorn bowl, taking a handful and stuffing the sweet substance in her mouth. “It’s not always that obvious. I mean Michael was really good at creating and keeping up the illusion.”    Loki looked down at the girl who sat so snugly next to him. He let his eyes wander over the Y/H/C hair and the curve and dip of her mouth, how much he wanted to press his own against it, to feel her warm breath mix with his while his freezing touch roamed over the girl’s hot skin.    “Michael was good, but he wasn’t that great. There were clear signs.”    “That doesn’t mean people always notice them and take them into account. There was trust involved. Eleanor believed him, so obviously she would never assume he’d want to torture them. She had no reason to do so.”    The raven-haired man shrugged. “But I mean if the system was so elaborate and perfect, she should’ve known the second she stepped foot into the neighbourhood that things were off.”    Suddenly the mood completely shifted. Loki felt Y/N’s whole body freeze up and go rigid, eyes glaze over with unshed tears as her knuckles turned almost completely white from the force she was gripping the blanket’s edge with. “She had no reason to.” Her tone had become defensive and allowed no room for any argument to be made.    “Y/N-“ Loki started but didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence as the girl stood up.    “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”    His brows furrowed in what seemed to be disappointment until the expression turned into worry and confusion. There on Y/N’s outer left thigh, almost thoroughly concealed by her shorts and one of Loki's large shirts, a yellowish bruise peeked out.    From his own experience on the battlefield, he knew it was in the last stages of healing, but what concerned him the most was how such a sweet and loving girl would get herself in a situation where it would adorn her body.    With silent footsteps, Loki followed to her closed bedroom only to hear soft sniffles coming from it.    “Y/N?” he knocked against the wooden panel and immediately everything went silent inside. “Are you alright?”    “I’m good,” immediately he could hear the suppressed cries in her voice. “Go to bed, Loki.”    The light inside her room got turned off and the man could only stare at the door with a gut feeling telling him that something was up.

***

   Neither mentioned the incident, moving on with their lives as if nothing had happened. That was until three days later when Loki had come back from a small mission where the Avengers had needed his expertise in magic, had he found Y/N crouched by the door, terror making her body tremble as she kept mumbling incoherent words.    “Darling?” his cold palms went to cradle her face, unseeing eyes looking into his scared ones. “Y/N what happened? Y/N?” By that point, he had started to shake the girl, hoping the motion would make her snap out of it.    Her lips moved, yet no sound escaped.    “Love, please,” Loki didn’t know what to do at this point. “Please tell me how I can help.”    “He found me,” she said a bit louder. “He found me.”    “Who? Who found you? Y/N what are you talking about.”    “My Michael.”    The trickster was confused. Nothing that Y/N said made any sense to him, so gently, he scooped her up in his arms and sat down onto the couch with her still tightly wrapped in his embrace.    The apartment was silent as the girl started straight into the wall, not replying to any of the soft pleas that escaped Loki’s mouth. He was so worried, his heart breaking into thousands of pieces as he beheld the state of who had become the love of his life. Cold hands glided over the side of her legs, to try and soothe Y/N, when something clicked.    The bruise. How defensive she had gotten when Eleanor hadn’t realised she was in the Bad Place. That just because there had been signs didn’t mean people would immediately understand the toxic situation they were in. And lastly- she had said ‘her Michael’. As in Eleanor’s torturer. Y/N’s torturer.    Rage coursed through his veins as his mind made the connections.    “Darling,” he got the word out through gritted teeth, “did somebody hurt you?”    “He found me,” Y/N whispered, cheek resting right above where Loki’s thudding heart beat out of rhythm. “He said he would. I drove around for a week, hoping to get him off my trail and I thought I did. I thought staying with an Avenger would keep me safe. But in the end, he always wins.”    Everything now made sense. How frazzled Y/N had looked the first time he had seen her. It explained why she had lived in her car for a week, the bruises, how her body tensed up when their conversation shifted while watching the show.    “I will never let anything happen to you,” the resolve in his words made the girl look up.    “You can’t protect me from him, Loki,” her fingers went to graze his jaw just like so many times she had fantasised. “No one can.”    Loki felt his heart shatter completely. Just the thought of someone laying a hand on such a soft and delicate creature made bile rise in his throat.    “Of course, I will. You seem to forget I’m a god. And an Avenger.”    Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she saw Loki pull out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and dial a number.    “Stark,” he said to the person on the other end of the line and it was like that little name revived the girl.    “No, no, no, no, no,” she snatched the device out of Loki’s palm and covered the microphone. “You can’t. Loki he’ll kill me. You can’t do this.”    “I’m not letting that vile beast anywhere near you.”    “It doesn’t matter anymore!” tears fell down her cheeks. “He already knows where I live. I’m done for it here. I need to run, not be babysat by Iron Man.”    “And how long will you run for this time?” he was getting angry now. The god’s mind couldn’t wrap around the thought that Y/N would rather throw her life away than accept a little help. “Love, a monster like that needs to be stopped before he can harm someone else…” Loki had stepped closer to the girl, so close that their noses brushed against one another’s. “Before he can harm the woman I’m in love with…”    It was out there, Loki couldn’t take it back anymore, but it seemed to do the trick. Her breath hitched and Y/N's grip on the little piece of technology lessened, allowing him to grab it. With a snap of his fingers, a clone of himself appeared in the flat and immediately it went to Y/N’s room. It didn’t take long for it to pack up her stuff and move it to the living room.    Through the daze Y/N's mind seemed to be stuck in, she hadn’t heard one bit of the conversation Loki had had with the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Only when his cold fingers touched the girl’s cheeks was when she got brought back to reality.    “Did you mean it?” When you said you loved me?” her voice trembled, fear and hope and something akin to disbelief lacing the words.    But instead of replying, slowly, as if Y/N was a wild animal, Loki leaned in, letting his forehead rest against hers, allowing his nose to once more slide against the girl’s and when she didn’t push him away, he gently pressed his lips to her mouth. It was like her whole body melted in his embrace, strong arms having to hold up her sagging from.    One of her palms rested on the nape of his neck, pulling Loki incredibly close while the other had almost a mind of its own, fingers carding through black locks and tugging in places, making the trickster emit a growl which Y/N eagerly swallowed. It was the pressing need for air that made them pull back, though not completely.    “What now?” she whispered, eyes still closed and revelling in the kiss.    Loki let his hands rest on the girl’s hips. “Now, I’ll keep you safe. If you’ll allow me.”    That made Y/N open her eyes and look at Loki, making him know that she was there, she was present and listening to what he would propose.    “I have arranged it with Stark that you’ll have a place at the tower. I’ll move in as well if that is what you request. You can stay there for as long as you wish or as long as you need to feel safe again. But right as we speak his A.I. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is running facial recognition from the footage obtained from the cameras outside the building complex. Y/N, you don’t have to run anymore. With Tony’s help, that horrible creature should be caught by the end of the week. Tops. But it is your life. Your decision. So if you want to take off again, you can, but just know you are allowed to live the life to the fullest. You deserve to have a Good Place. A real one.”    Tears rolled down her cheeks, as the girl pressed her face into Loki’s shoulders, for the first time in years letting the feeling of safety completely overtake her senses. “Will you be there?” the soft question seeped into his skin as Loki vowed to love and protect Y/N for the rest of their lives.    “For as long as you’ll want me.”    She leaned up, eyes closed and kissed the god once more. “Thank you, Loki. For being my Good Place.”    “Thank you for giving me one too.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @pizzarollpatrol @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger  @marvels-queen-bee @julierousing98 @maggiesimps @horrorx570ximagines  @nerissa98 @palaiasaurus64 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers  @lumelgy

A/N: just wanted to write something for Loki, I’ve been in a really big Hiddleston mood lately so there are a lot more fics of the Norse God on their way :D

P.S. please tell me what you think :)

P.S.S. if you wanna be tagged in future stories or have any requests, dorp a message :)

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)

[singingcookie]

I just need to talk about how much I’m grateful for writing rn okay? Okay

So I guess to before I get into rambling what it is about writing/reading other people’s work that’s making me so relieved rn I have to talk about why I’m so stressed that’s causing it to be such a relief so

Last year, moved out of my dad’s house and moved a little further up north with a couple friends. Quit my old job a few months into living there because commuting was terrible. Got a new one and then everything was supposed to be fine. 

But it wasn’t because then just before Christmas, I got into a car accident, and my car was totaled. And the new job I had, manager changed shortly after I was hired. And the new manager was giving very sparse hours to most of the employees. Rent went up. I had to invest in a new car...

Long story short after March, I needed to be earning about $1300 a month to make ends meet. And on average I was getting close to $1000. So I started trying to look for a new job. I had completely open availability, glowing praise from my previous job. Still, nowhere would hire me.

I happened to luck out that an assistant manager left at my old job right when things were starting to look real dire in August. Like, I could maybe afford to cover one month before I was out of money. I got my way into the new job. And thanks to the pay raise and hours bump I’m just barely making ends meet.

But because my job is so far from where I live, I’m staying exclusively at my dad’s house; I haven’t been to my apartment in two weeks rn. My cat is still up there, and I miss her dearly. All of my video game systems are up there. But I just...can’t afford to go in between like I want to.

So that’s most of the info I guess you gotta know. Sorry it’s a lot I guess.

I happened to get sucked into BnHA somewhere in the midst of all of that. And maybe it was just because things were so bad for me that I needed something ongoing to be invested in. I don’t actually know if maybe that’s part of why it got it’s hooks so deep in me lol

But around midJuly is when I started reading fanfics for it. Primarily for Izuocha ship fics but. It was something to help keep me from going off of the rails. To keep me from spiraling in the heaviness of my bad situation. Because if it hadn’t been for that, I could have really gone off the deep end. That sounds extreme, but that’s where my headspace was if I’m being honest.

I think the main thing that got me back into actually writing, myself, was all of the amazing fanfic writers that I read and admired. But also the sheer dearth of Izuocha fics in general. And I thought to myself, “well, be the change you want to see in the world, right?” So whenever I got a cute idea I would just. Go to town and start writing.

And god I’m so happy I did. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone outside of work except for my little sister (whom I adore so def not complaining). And like that would have gotten to me so bad. Having this outlet, joining an active discord, becoming mutuals with people who I genuinely love interacting with....

It all means so much to me rn because I’m struggling to hold myself together until February when the lease is up and I can move back down here to a way more affordable place with my roommates and little sister.

I’m sorry this was so long but I’m just. I’m so grateful to have this outlet right now. To have something I can be so invested in. And have people to interact with so I can manage to keep myself together long enough for things to get better.

I am so, so grateful that the word alone seems far too small for the extent of what I feel.

[captainsimagines]

RENT - Part 6

In which eight old friends in dire need move in together for one year. 

Warnings: language; mentions of drug overdose; mentions of drugs; PTSD; Bucky being stupid lol

Word Count: 4,800+

A/N: Is this a late AS FUCK update or what? I'm sorry, but writer’s block is a bitch. Enjoy, babes.

PART SIX

Natasha - “Tango: Natasha”

(5) (7)

TEN YEARS AGO

“I just... need some time for myself.”

Steve shuffled slightly on the hot concrete, head down and face somber. The extra heat this spring made soccer practice that much more difficult. Although, Natasha’s words added a foreign heat within his chest- one that he chose to ignore.

He didn’t want to look Natasha in the eyes because if he knew himself, he would break down sobbing in the middle of the quad. But surprisingly, he held it together and managed to look up for once, taking in her purple highlights mixed in somewhere with all that blonde, just blazing in the spring sunlight. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he replied, interlocking his fingers with hers for the last time. Natasha stuttered over her next few words, pulling her hand back and giving Steve an equally devastating grin.

“Alone, babe.”

He didn’t want to fight and he didn’t want to pressure her. All he could think about was Sam’s constant blabbering about love and how it never works. ‘If you love something or someone, let it free!’ Sam would cry, making his words even more dramatic with the sound effects he would include. Gunshots, bell noises, yodeling- literally anything you can think of to make Sam even more annoying than he already was.

But Steve ignored his inspirational words, letting go of Natasha physically but not emotionally.

Natasha stood from the playground bench and dusted herself off. “You understand, right?”

No, he didn’t.

“Yeah. Some time apart might do us good.”

With an almost unnoticeable nod, Natasha walked away and left Steve to ponder about what the hell just happened. Two years they had dated and Natasha woke up one morning calling it quits. Steve knew she must have had her reasons, but he forgot to ask what they were.

With a broken heart and a wad of cash in one hand, Natasha sprinted down the alleyway looking for a familiar face. Checking to see if the coast was clear, she jumped up and held onto the balcony railing, pulling herself up and unlocking the bedroom window. On the inside sat a couple men in a circle, each rolling up their own specialty treat.

“Where’s Scott?” Natasha asked, avoiding eye contact at all possible costs.

No one responded, but one man pointed through the doorway and resumed his work. Natasha followed instructions, heading through the wooden, swinging doors. Once in, she saw the man she bargained with almost every week.

“I’ve got his money,” Natasha sighed, holding up the cash and stuffing her free hand in her pocket. Scott looked up from his paperwork and hummed, holding his hand up in the air so Natasha could throw it.

“Think he’ll have the rest ready by next week?” Scott asked, putting the money in a nearby drawer.

“He’d be lucky to have half.”

Scott chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry you have to do this for him.”

Natasha gave a nonchalant shrug, struggling to hide her true feelings about the whole situation. “He’s my dad. If I can’t get him off the needle then the least I can do is make sure he doesn’t go into massive debt.”

Scott opened another drawer and threw Natasha a new iPod, with new headphones and everything. “For all your hard work.”

Natasha rolled the gift over in her hands and sighed deeply, “You don’t have to.”

Scott held his hand up, “Don’t even mention it. You deserve so much more. Now go, before the scum of the operation show up.”

Natasha always took that advice, leaving from the same window she climbed through to get in. And every single time she left Scott to run his business to enter her own reality, Natasha wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and run away, tell you, Sam, Bucky... Steve!- about everything she had to fix and suffer with everyday after school.  

Ironically, the entrance into her own reality allowed her to finally scream once she opened her father’s bedroom door to let him know she got home safely, that she was heartbroken over Steve and wanted to talk, that she had dealt with his debt and would most likely take care of it next month as well. Rolling him over and slapping him repeatedly did nothing- shaking him and yelling did nothing- and when she dragged his limp body from his messy bed and removed his clothing to submerge him in the freezing tub water, it did nothing. So, she called 911 and sat on the closed toilet seat while watching her father’s index finger twitch every so often, his eyeballs brushing alongside his thin blue eyelids as if he were peacefully dreaming.  

TEN YEARS LATER

Steve stumbled out of bed, stretching his sore muscles and cracking almost every bone. Looking over at the clock he noticed it was only six in the morning, December 24th, early as shit.  

He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders before standing from his bed to walk to the bathroom, eyes closed halfway and body sagging. Without thinking twice because let’s face it, he has only had roommates for three days now, he pushed open the bathroom door to take his morning piss. 

 “Oh my god!”  

Steve tumbled to the ground at the sudden yell, scrambling across the floor to find some sort of balance. “I am so sorry!” 

You held the towel close to your wet body, an expression of surprise and absolute mortification etched into your sleepy face. You rushed to the door to close it, to slam it in the pervert’s face, but you were quickly met with another tired individual who rubbed at his eyes in order to make sure he was seeing what he was really seeing. Except this individual- the exact individual responsible for your perplexed state- ran in with a handgun held high.  

“What’s going on?”  Bucky’s yells of confusion and Steve’s cries of “Bucky! Fuck! Bucky, put that shit down!” coupled with your outbursts of curses as well. You shielded your face, as if that was going to stop a bullet, and Steve just held onto the side of the door, looking in between you and the scared veteran.  

“Boy, if you don’t-“ Sam stumbled in, yawning until he noticed Bucky’s current weapon in hand. “Oh, hell!”  

It was a funny scene, a rather comical one, one that neither one of you would ever forget, but it caused mayhem. Two men cowering on the floor, you gripping onto the sink both angry and terrified, and Bucky just being... Bucky? No, he wasn’t in that moment because his sudden approach to the whole situation was a bit overdone and exaggerated. That was saying something- running in with a loaded handgun, and all. 

All of you fiddled with your fingers and knocked your knees together, avoiding eye contact with the one and only Peggy Carter.  

She stood there with her arms crossed, her left foot tapping, and her eyebrows raised in an almost comical sense. “Well?” 

It was silent for a second, just for a bloody second, before Steve spoke and if he had known any better, he would have realized that his input wasn’t really needed. “I didn’t even know Y/N was here...” 

The three of you facepalmed. You could literally feel Peggy’s cheeks redden in absolute anger.  

“Okay... let’s get one thing straight,” Peggy started, pacing slowly from one side of the room to the other. You were sat in between Steve and Sam, normal clothes on now, hiding your face in your hands. “Why is there a gun in the apartment?” 

You all looked at Bucky. He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Ex-vet.”  

Peggy’s face seemed to change dramatically, almost as if she understood the obvious struggle. “I understand... but Bucky, I have to ask- why was your first instinct to pull out your gun?”  

Bucky looked to the floor, “Like you said, it’s an instinct.”  

Steve shuffled slightly, changing the focus for Bucky’s sake. “Why did no one tell me Y/N was here?”  

“Dude, you got home at like... two,” Sam answered. You decided to finally speak up.  

“I needed a place to crash for a couple of nights. Only until I get this creep to stop following me home.”  

Bucky was about ready to pull his gun again, obviously forgetting it was in the hands of the ex-cop. “Some guy is following you?” 

You brushed off his surprise, “It’s fine. Luke’s got it covered.”  

Sam almost flew off the couch, “Ooo! Who’s Luke?”  

Answering for you, Steve waved his hands. “Co-worker who could beat all of ours asses... at once.”  

“Alright,” Bucky fist-bumped. “I trust this, Luke!”  You rolled your eyes and stood from the couch.

“Yeah, and I also have to head to work.”  

“Woah, this early in the morning?” Sam asked.  You sighed and went to grab your backpack. “Lunch time is when we get the most customers. Working during that time is considered a freaking privilege.” 

It was silent again and no one knew what else to say. You pulled on your coat and grabbed your gym bag, looking over the people standing in the below-freezing living room. 

“Um... do you guys want me to pick up dinner?”

With a couple shrugs and slight mumbles, you nodded your head and sighed. Ducking your head to the floor, you quickly left the apartment with a heavy weight on your shoulders- the weight obviously resembling unspoken feelings about everything. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t jealousy- it was just so uncomfortable.

“Get up,” Wanda said, slamming the fluffiest pillow she could find onto Natasha’s back. “You have work, babe!”

Natasha groaned and rolled over, tucking her hornet’s-nest of bed hair underneath the mountain of pillows on the king-sized bed. 

“Babe, if you’re late again I don’t think I could convince your boss to let you keep your job.”

“Okay,” Natasha drawled out, rolling over and over until her leg hung off the side of the bed. “I’ll be right there.”

“Alright.” Wanda scurried across the bedroom, putting on her earrings and stepping into the high heels she had recently bought. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

Natasha finally rolled off the bed, still wrapped in the duvet and warm as a child on Christmas. “Yeah, definitely.”

Multi-tasking. That’s what Natasha does best. With a dead-end job and poor income from her side, Natasha felt as though her love for Wanda was all she had to offer. She loved her, with all her heart, and if that meant suffering while making hundreds of copies of a single sheet of paper and texting Scott about the money she just acquired, then so be it. 

Natasha struggled to leave that part of her life behind but the sudden rush it would give her was just too addicting and every time she brought home a little extra dough, Wanda would smile. And not one those, ‘I haven’t seen you all day, let’s go to bed’ smiles, but the one that clearly illustrates compassion and acknowledgment. She was trying, and Wanda realized that. 

No, Wanda did not know about Natasha’s side business- no one did nor will anyone ever know.  She no longer aided in her father’s downfall, but she did it for herself. Deal with purpose, Natasha would say, sneaking through every dark alley in New York City with her key positioned in between her index and middle finger. 

“Are the copies almost finished?” T’Challa asked, walking into the copy room to check on his new proposal. Natasha hummed her response, handing him the fifty copies she had already piled up. 

“Will you be taking an early lunch break as well, today?”

Natasha shrugged and answered with a quiet ‘sure’, giving T’Challa the last of the copies. 

Lunch breaks for Natasha consisted of two things: actual lunch and a drug deal almost always going right. It was the rarest occurrence for a drug deal to go horribly wrong, the only instance being when Natasha had to stab some guy in the neck to get him to leave her alone. But Scott didn’t mind, he really didn’t- the less of those crooked men buying his drugs, the better. A weird drug dealer Scott was, but that’s what made him the best and it’s what kept Natasha around for so long. 

“Care to join me?” 

Natasha leaned back just a little, surprised by her boss’s question. “Why, may I ask?”

It was T’Challa’s turn to shrug. “I just want some company.” 

So she agreed, quickly returning to her desk to shut down her computer and pick up her purse.  

“I wanted to tell someone. Even a complete stranger...”

Natasha rolled her eyes and sipped her drink casually. “I bring you your coffee everyday.”

T’Challa seemed to shrink, his hands coming to rest on his thighs as he stared at his untouched lunch.

“I’m sorry about that,” he admits, looking around the restaurant, at nothing in particular. 

“It’s not even my job,” Natasha continues, picking at her fries now and debating whether she should challenge her boss even more. “When I made you get my coffee, it was your job. Interns get coffee.”

T’Challa tried his best to hide his smirk, finally lifting his full burger to his mouth. 

“I’m not meant to get your coffee, boss,” Natasha declared, crossing her arms and staring at the man whose mouth was currently full of food. “Interns, I tell ‘ya.”

“I admit I make you get my coffee because you annoyed me with that bowl-cut you once sported.”

Natasha’s face twitched slightly but in an amusing way, allowing T’Challa to label this lunch as friendly and overdue. “My girlfriend was never good with scissors. It was the only style I could manage.” 

T’Challa nodded, “You will no longer get my coffee.”

“Wow, my prayers have been answered.”

“Because I’m quitting.”

Natasha spit out her french fry and watched it land near her boss’s soda. The two were silent for a moment before Natasha reached over and grabbed the potato, wrapping it in a napkin. 

“Quitting?”

“I don’t want to be apart of the mess my father has made. I don’t want my name anywhere near it.”

“So, your plan is to run?”

“Excuse me?”

Natasha no longer sipped her drink but gulped it, nervousness spilling from the sides of her lips. “I mean, you could stay and fix it. But if you want to quit, then quit.”

T’Challa couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to someone who wasn’t trying to sign his name onto a piece of paper. It was sort of comfortable and new, a feeling T’Challa used to be well acquainted with. With a change in position and a whole new outlook on life, it was almost distasteful in the eyes of capitalism. He should be destroying buildings and constructing new and shinier ones, writing checks and stamping the outbox letters, attending gala after gala to bring home the prettiest woman there! All for the cameras, all for the spotlight, and for what exactly? 

“I am not running.”

“I take it back,” Natasha stated, slurping the ice cubes from her empty glass. “But it’s what an intern would do.” 

 “You were met with a what this morning?”

You had to stifle your giggles after telling Luke about your rude awakening. The shower did nothing to freshen you up, but the gun, oh that worked perfectly. You quickly extracted the dollar bills from your clothing to hand them over to Luke for safe keeping. Not many of the girls did it, but everyone trusted Luke. If you didn’t have a break to put the money you earned for that hour in your locker, he would gladly keep it safe in a respected pile. 

“All three of these guys I went to high school with. It was like choir all over again, except with guns instead of horribly practiced piano.”

Luke shook his head in disapproval, sliding a full glass of beer to the man down the isle. “Why does a man suffering with PTSD have a gun, anyway?”

You set down your tray of empty glasses and stared at Luke in confusion. “PTSD?”

“Sounds like a bad case if his first instinct was to kill.”

You sucked in a single ragged breath, focusing on Luke’s chin while you formulated your response to that. Bucky? PTSD? Sure, you knew he was excited to join the army after high school and ‘save the world’, he would say. He definitely wasn’t the same man considering ten years had passed since you last saw him- what, with the full grown beard, muscular build, and constant smoking habit. Oh, you could smell his breaks each time he left his bed in the middle of the night to smoke through the broken window in the living room. But PTSD? How hadn’t you figured that out by just this morning’s encounter?

“You think?”

Luke sighed and nodded, “The guy probably feels safe with that gun under his pillow. That’s enough info.”

You grimaced, “I don’t feel safe knowing it’s even there.”

“Understandable. But what are you going to do? Take it away from him?”

You chuckled slightly, picking the tray back up now that Luke changed the empty glasses to full ones. “It already has been. Steve’s neighbor took it without even asking.”

“You planning to stay there again tonight?”

You groaned, “I’m picking my shit up after my shift.”

Luke opened his mouth to speak but your boss rounded the corner to interrupt. 

“Do I pay you to talk to the whores?”

Luke breathed through his nose and scrunched the napkin in his hand. You ignored your boss’s gruesome remark and instead looked over at your friend, silently begging him not to risk it. Luke resisted, like always, and whispered a small ‘sorry’. You gave Luke a little grin, walking over to the booth with the drinks and your famous hip sway.

“Could you just keep her company for a few minutes while I arrange the paperwork? She came all the way from the upper east-side because she heard my classes were just that good.”

Steve sighed but agreed anyway, because refusing the simplest request from Peggy was near damn impossible. “Sure thing.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Peggy cheered, grabbing her phone to head to her small office space. “I won’t be long! She’ll be here any minute!”

“I’ll make sure she enjoys herself.”

“Don’t scare her off, Rogers!” 

“I won’t-!”

“Peggy?”

A small yet shrill voice sounded from the side of the studio. Peggy waved at her new customer.

“Wanda! So glad you could make it. Steve, here, will keep you company while I handle something real quick. I’ll be right back!”

“O-“ Peggy left before she could finish her sentence. “-K.” 

“Um, hi! I’m Steve and I probably can’t teach you tango but I’m good company.”

Wanda set her stuff down and walked toward the middle of the room. “It’s alright.” 

The air was thin for some unknown reason, but Wanda could have sworn she had the right idea. His last name sounded familiar, oh so familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a heavy weight in her stomach and she begged silently for Peggy to come back. “Want to dance anyway?” 

Steve chucked, “I don’t really dance.”

“Why are you here, then?”

Steve released a long “Uhhhhh...” before he crouched down to check if his shoes were neatly tied. 

“You sound familiar,” Wanda verbally admits, walking over to her bag to get her dancing shoes. “Not your voice, obviously, but your name.”

“I’m not really recognizable,” Steve joked, patiently waiting for Wanda to put on her shoes or for Peggy to save this awkward encounter. 

“Did we go to college together?” 

“I went to NYU for like... a year.”

Wanda knew. She knew who Steve was. It took a few seconds, a few quick glances, but she knew who was standing in front of her. There was no way she could miss it considering Steve’s name spilled from Natasha’s lips every single day. Steve used to say this- Steve used to do that!- Steve was my first love!- it would never end. And it never bothered Wanda before because there wasn’t a time in her life where she thought she would ever meet the guy. 

“Nevermind.”

She was going to nudge it out, reveal their similarities in partners, out of spite and a little out of pride. 

“My girlfriend was going to go there but she decided to go to community college instead.” 

“No shame in that,” Steve said, walking over to the stereo to start Peggy’s music and completely oblivious.

Wanda pushed further. “Yeah, Natasha was always destined for great things anyway!”

Steve stumbled a bit, clicking the buttons and blinking repeatedly. It was like he was slapped in the face with her constant, agitating tone. “That’s nice!”

Well, what else could he say? It was only a coincidence, Steve thought. There was no way the world was that small. However, Steve wasn’t stupid and knew there was a catch with this woman. If he ever knew Natasha, then he would understand the reason Wanda had traveled to the depths of fucking Brooklyn to take a dance class with a complete stranger. It was the same feeling Steve experienced when he was dating her- a feeling Wanda, without a doubt, was suffering under.

So he decided to play Wanda’s game for a while longer, nodding along to whatever ‘new’ information Wanda fed him about Natasha- how she dyed her hair red after the blonde completely killed her hair, how she studied in communications, and how she works for a brilliant martial arts studio in the winter. 

Steve wasn’t about to lose this battle no matter how much he wanted to laugh at her silly attempts at picking at his insecurities. He wanted to catch Wanda completely off-guard, and that’s exactly what he did. 

“Natasha sounds so different from when I used to sleep with her.”

It was low. A low blow. An incredibly derogatory, pitiful, but necessary low blow. 

“Excuse me?”

The music sounded lowly, a quiet tango enveloping the two rivals. “I didn’t mean it in-”

“What did you mean, Steve?” Wanda seethed, angry that her attempts at making Steve crumble snapped back at her. The comment wasn’t even directed toward her and Wanda almost begged for it to be, but the comment centered around the love of her life. Steve insulted Natasha and all she wanted was for Steve to insult her.

“You were just going on and on! You obviously knew who I was!” Steve yelled quietly, not wanting to alert Peggy of the commotion.

“No,” Wanda said, reaching for Steve’s hands and interlocking their fingers in a tight stance, their chests resting against each other’s. “You meant something else.”

A rock to hide under sounded so good right about now. “I just wanted to make you mad.”

Wanda didn’t appreciate his response, even if she did egg him on. She was hurt, emitting the emotion throughout the studio to the one person she believed deserved to be on the receiving end. 

“Hey, you’re dating my ex. Small world, but you don’t have to make me jealous about it. It’s been ten years.”

Wanda stuttered when Peggy pulled the door to her office open, both her and Steve standing close in a not-so compromising position. It felt like one, though.

“Hey! You’re dancing! Okay, I’ll only be a few more minutes!”

Then the door shut again, the music seemed to become louder, and the anger radiating from the small girl in front of Steve clogged his brain. 

“This is weird.”

Steve twirled Wanda once, impressed by how quickly she snapped back into his arms, almost as if she was challenging him again with freakin’ tango. “It’s weird.”

Wanda groaned, backing up slightly but still allowing Steve to lead. “Very weird.”

“Fucking weird.”

“I’m so mad that I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, taking the liberty of leading from now on since Steve was so horrible at the simple task. “She skipped dinner and I had reservations! I was freezing while waiting for her outside that damn restaurant and to top it all off I’m with you!”

Steve swayed to the music, studying Wanda’s swirls of madness creeping from the sides of her eyes. It was familiar and from that moment on, Steve used the music and dancing to channel her anger from her. “Oh, I know this act.”

Wanda released her grip from one of Steve’s hands, unraveling and spreading her arms out. “What act?”

“It’s called, the Tango: Natasha.”

Wanda completely untangled herself from Steve, pushing him away to stare in bewilderment. “That sounds so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, crossing his arms and smirking. “It’s a dark, dizzy merry-go-round where she keeps you dangling and you never know what to expect! She skipped dinner, you said?”

Wanda shuffled uncomfortably, “You’re wrong.”

“She skipped dinner and her excuse was that she simply forgot, right?”

Wanda huffed a loud breath of air, “It’s different with me.”

“But you toss and you turn because her cold eyes can burn, and you’re waking up to the same routine all over again. Right?”

Wanda shook the thoughts from her head. Everything Steve was saying was unbelievably true, so sickeningly true, and her stomach was starting to churn. “Did you swoon when she walked through the door?”

Steve grinned, looking at his feet. “Everytime, so be cautious.”

Wanda rolled her eyes but persisted, “What did you think she was doing every time she skipped out?”

Steve sighed heavily and responded with a shrug. He held his hand out for her to take, eager to start the dance again instead of talking about an ex he hadn’t even spoken to since graduation. “I never assumed the worst of her. I loved her. She was just so secretive that it was slowly killing me.”

Wanda followed Steve around the studio, absentmindedly dancing for a while before she pushed him away again. Steve stumbled back but before he could ask why she did it, Wanda practically screeched, “She cheated!”

“Woah, woah! What makes you think she cheated on me?”

“No, not with you! Even though I see why she would, but she cheated on me!”

Steve stuffed the back-handed compliment deep within his chest. It wasn’t the right time to dissect that proposal. Still, he didn’t feel like comforting his ex-girlfriend’s, new girlfriend- someone he barely met- because it was just so weird. 

“I doubt Natasha would-”

“I’m defeated, I should give up right now,” Wanda sputtered almost incoherently, running over to her bag to pack her things. 

“Hey, don’t just assume-”

“Okay! Let’s dance!”

Steve stood completely still, eyes dramatically landing on Peggy and Wanda, Peggy and Wanda, until he threw his hands up. “Well, that’s my cue! I’ll start fixing the floor tomorrow, Peggy.”

Peggy happily giggled, unaware of the fight and revelations that just sneaked into the hard cracks on her studio floor. 

“Where did you say he was?” Natasha asked, climbing through the all-to-familiar window. 

“Out back.” 

“Thanks.”

The apartment smelled like smoke. Not from a cigarette or a fire, but days old smoke that made even the heaviest drug addict sick to their stomach. Scott didn’t dare stay there for more than two hours. He only sat, received the money his clients made that week, and left. Each client came and went, one after the other with a fifteen minute division between each of them. No one knew each other, no one fought, and no one would even know they were working for Scott unless they stayed at his place for more than requested. 

“Got it all?”

Natasha threw the wad towards him and lifted a single finger.  “Don’t underestimate me.”

“I never do,” Scott smiled, taking out his checkbook to write the monthly allowance. “Still coming to the workshop this week?”

Natasha nodded, gladly accepting her earnings. “Teaching people how to fight? A fun hobby.”

“Well, when I’m not dealing heroin it’s a wonderful pastime!”

Natasha smirked and waved a small goodbye to her second boss. However, her day seemed to tragically rust because there was always that one person who found out- someone who didn’t follow the rules- and could possibly ruin the whole operation. 

“I didn’t know Lang employed women.”

Stepping from the window onto the ground, Natasha clicked her key and shoved it between her fingers. She wanted to kill him, scream at him for pissing on Scott’s brilliant business tactics. 

“You’re fifteen minutes early.” 

The man shrugged and turned his head to chuckle, allowing Natasha to scan his body up and down. His pale skin made the smallest scratches visible, even the noticeable needle marks along his arms. If Natasha took anything away from this type of business, any rule that could follow her for the rest of her life, it would be that no one experiments with the merchandise if you’re actively selling it. 

But Scott wouldn’t argue with it, because the more people he got hooked was just income. 

“I see no problem here. Our little secret,” the man snickered, stepping around Natasha and climbing through that damn window. 

A/N: WOW FUCKING KILL ME! I PROMISE THE NEXT UPDATE WILL BE WONDERFUL LMFAO I HATE MYSELF!

TAG LIST: @4theluvofall @ihavemymomentsstill @sumafamouxx @chook007 @shrekssunflowers @seems-sosimple @evyiione @fireflyloki28 @smollyssa 

[manwithhishat-blog]

On the job hunt

Over two years since my last post. Don’t know what to really say about those two years as right now I’m wanting to talk about the last couple months.

To reiterate, I’m writing this as it’s coming out of my head. There is no proof reading, no structure writing, no thesis; just getting it all out on words.

A number of things though as not to forget as that always tend to be an issue.

-job searching

-money issues

-work hours

-(newest one) relationship conflicts 

Starting with the “work hours”, right now,Thursday morning, I should be expecting a call from work to tell me what my hours are for next week. THEY HAVEN’T SCHEDULED ME FOR WORK FOR 4 WEEKS!!! Needless to say that I’m wandering what the fuck is going on. Through out those 4 weeks, I’ve been calling them to ask if i’m actually working or not. Every time they don’t pick up and I end up leaving a message with name, number, the message, and number again; not once did they call me back. For the first two weeks, I figured that work was so slow that they didn’t call me, but by the 3rd week I knew that couldn’t be it. So I went in that 3rd week on a Tuesday and see that there’s 2 or 3 events going on that could possibly be work hours. Found the lady that dose the scheduling and finds that she’s been on vacation for the past week or two; well that kinda explains things. So she takes my name and number on a sticky-note as to be a ‘reminder’ and said that she’ll get a hold of me about the hours; I even got another number to call for work that is her work desk. Nothing. By the 4th week, I’m on a dire job search as funds are quickly depleting.

There’s not too much to really say about my “money issues”. Work has been slow since the start of summer, but there was enough to get by on. I thought I was going to be fine as long I didn’t over spend on things that warn’t needed. I did get to go see my girlfriend that’s 4 hours away and spend just under $200 for that week (the first of those ^^ 4 weeks), but I figured it would be fine. *insert the following 3 weeks of no work*. To put on top of that, my student loans called up about making a payment, a payment that I could pay with one of my paychecks. Told them that it would be a week before I could get it to them, but that I could. The weeks progressed on and there’s no work to be had, leaving me vary broke. On top of that, internet bill came in ($78) and my landlord got a hold of me saying that rent money would be nice. I consider my landlord a saint as he has put up with so much and is allowing me to do that I feel absolutely horrible not being able to make a payment for him. But he knows my situation and is allowing me to do as much. Bless him.

Took a small break just now. I’m not one for writing.

The “job search” started as such from earlier. Though there was one day at work a co-worker (ass. manager) asked me “why am I working ‘here’?” It got me on a thought process on where to more next. It started as I’m working there cause I can get there without a car (which I didn’t have for the first 4 months of this year) and the pay was good enough that was vary livable. The livable wage was looking vary good to the point where, if I stay with it long enough, I could pay off a chunk of my student debt, but now I have a car again, and work not giving me hours for 4 weeks really made the drive to find another job real dire.

Lastly, this “relationship conflicts” is something that’s not even between me and my girlfriend, it’s her father. For the majority, I get along great with her father. But apparently he is more of a business profession in that he doesn’t like to use my nickname and thinks my ambition and drive is in games and not my career. Or maybe I’m taking things too slow and being satisfied with what is given to me. To an extent I would agree with that logic, but it’s my life that he’s critiquing on standers set by him and not knowing the condition and state I’m in and how I plan on progressing in life. I really don’t have anything agent this man in that I hate him (or want to) and I want to get along with him, not just for he’s my girlfriend’s father but he’s genuinely a good and fun dude to be around. Though he has only known me for just over a year now and the only time that we have gotten to hang out is a bout 3 weeks; 2 last year and 1 a little while ago. A single year has gone past and he’s supposedly giving me flak for not having enough ambition, drive, and/or passion to get things done within the year he’s known me; or reaching cretin life goals like immediately finding my perfect career job,or having to be in college for 8 years where even after graduating having to take one more course him wondering why it took me so long. I like you dude, but don’t be judging me like you know how to run my life when you don’t even know what state i’m in and what I’ve been doing to keep myself afloat.

That’s it, for now. Those are the things I need to get off my chest. There could be more things but they’re much less taxing on the mind. So with that, Good Night.

[anyu-blue]

🥀

Tevellon(aka Tevie): omg Meek! You have so much in your account!!! Why are you so worried??? 😂😂😂 Why can't you buy the ($800) package for yourself for your birthday, omg? 😂😂😂

Me:

....

$1,755, yeah?

Let's see...

$860- rent

$300- cellphone bill

$300- Power Bill

$56- Water bill

$75- internet bill

$75- cat care bill

$40- collection agency bill (from bumping a car 2 or 3 years ago)

$10- homeowners insurance.

...

Normally I have a $65 bill for student loans too, but luckily they're still furloughed for the moment. So...

That leaves me with $39 left over.

Tevellon: O-oh haha 😅

Me: I CAN'T afford the gift I wanted... Or any of them, really.

Tevellon: But the stimulus-!

Me: I checked to see why mine has been delayed... There's nothing- system can't find me. So it possible I won't be getting it- and look what happened at the capital today. Think the delays are going to stop?

Tevellon: But-

Me: And besides, I've been told I'm losing my hours soon- the co-worker I'm covering for is feeling better. IF I get anything I need to be prepared to save it for bills for the month I'll be scrambling to find something/work.

Tevellon: ... I forgot rent needed to pull... But I get paid this Friday! You can-

Me: No. I appreciate your offer, but you know I have my reasons. Bills. Nothing more.

Tevellon: Meek-

Me: We've been through this. Enough. I'm done talking to you.

~~~~

Tevie has recently (as in at the beginning of December) also decided she's done paying for groceries for everyone (I don't blame her, I wouldn't want to pay for my new diet of vitamins and expensive/better food either. $100 a week adds up) and has been having a ball with her stimulus buying Valentine's day gifts for everyone besides me (I'm too picky, don't like Valentine's day, and have a low key anger when she spends so MUCH money so easily near me that it's put her off I feel)...

W0lf.exe, our younger sister, already has plans to spend any extra she makes/gets on continuing to upgrade her computer.

And they wonder why I bristle all the time when buying shit comes up. Or why I get so nervous when MY funds are low.

Tevie cannot fathom not buying stupid stuffed animals and marked up food and shit Evey God damned week either- which is where all her damn money goes I feel. Gods.. HOW many new Elsa dolls has she gotten in the last month? And TY stuffies? She brought home 4 in the last two days!!! These things are NOT cheap!! And she has DOZENS sitting on boxes in her room- recently bought a 8 cubbie bookshelf shelf to put up JUST for those stuffies she has so many!! She already has one filled to overflowing with books, one with DVDs, and one spilling over with figurines. Her video games are stacked under her tv because she's go no place for them on any other shelf!!

She has $200 in her account right now. Someone who makes over 11/hr (it's more than that but idk how much higher. I THINK she's up to $13/hr but we'll go with $11/hr) and gets at LEAST 3 hours of overtime a week (time and a half) means she gets oooh... 1,602 a month after taxes with those figures?

Her bills and groceries (which I've highballed/added together at the maximum they ever are) come out to $1,105 a month.... Sooo... $297 from regular pay AND the $600 she JUST got.. just.. GONE. SPENT. NOTHING to show for it. (And a reminder that she definitely makes more than I added up here so she's actually spent more than that too.. yeah)

I get it. I do. I've got the problem too of Oo! Has moneys! Buy the things before you'll never be able to again! ... It's why I was even LOOKING at a birthday gift for myself. A high quality long lasting investment at that... But I can settle for something under $10 for myself/as a gift for someone else at the end of the month if I can afford it. I've done it for long enough. Literally every other penny goes to food and bills. That $10 at the end of the month for something extra is designed to help me keep my sanity.. SOMETHING to look forward to. I don't work much due to my struggles, so I don't have much to play with or save.

I'm glad they're happy on some level too because I do get it... And it's their money to do exactly what it is they please with. They spent more than enough time working for it.

But it still PISSES ME OFF that neither of my sisters ACTUALLY pay attention and just spend spend spend all their money away so long as they have enough for bills (which they wait until their last paycheck of the month to have together-- do you KNOW how BAD that is?! Especially if something happens and you can't or don't work as much as I'd needed?!)

...

There's many reasons everyone thinks I'm the eldest. I do carry my stress less gracefully than my siblings, but I also have the knowledge and the haunt of it truly weighing on me. Luckily my sisters don't... Even if it leads to their doom or stress in the end, because they haven't experienced it yet... They're happy now. On top of the world.

I've told them my feelings and why I think what they do is in bad taste, more or less. I've offered my money management AND economical cooking services to both who have complained they never have anything saved up, always are buying expensive food at work, and don't know how to get what they want as well as save (it's possible, believe me!).. Tevie even asked for help once! I told her just to bring me what she wanted help with and I'd break it down for her as best I could.... Well she never did. And now refuses to because I 'need to just focus on [me] and not worry about anybody else.'

Bitch... YOU AND YOUR SPENDING PROBLEMS DO NOT HELP WITH MY STRESS AND ISSUES I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW.

It's whatever.. just on my mind today. Not technically my problem.. but I'm mad that promised help and safety nets are actually non-existent.

We're CLEARLY FINE. Please don't fret. We're fine. We'll always be 'fine' thanks to someone else willing to help when things are dire at the very least...

It's just... If we ALL were as damned careful as I am (I know I HAVE to be because of my issues- issues they don't have).. and heck even willing to share as has been promised (I DO share whatever I can, but at the moment I'm HEAVILY considering retracting my sharing because.. well... Food is expensive.. and now I'm not getting help to pay for it on top of it all.. and don't want to starve because I'm allergic to what my sisters like to whim buy... So...)... We'd be GREAT even..

But they're not. They don't want to be or have personal reasons to be very careful.

So here we are.

...

I don't want to admit this because it looks bad.. but I feel it's important to.

In my stress I've regressed into not using my lights the last few weeks. Tevie talking with me and being so.. ignorant of costs has only made me wish to be MORE careful.

I've got old candles and lighters and stuff, my phone on battery saver for moving around, and two (maybe 3 if I can find the other one) old dollar store push button lights when I'm too tired to deal with fire or waste my phone's battery... Turned down my little basement heater too. I'd turn it off entirely, but I know that would probably kick our forced air heating system up even just a little bit. Also being more careful with my water consumption. Small baths and rinses rather than regular showers, plus being careful when flushing is needed... Just to try and see if I can help our bills be a tiny fraction lower.

This was something I did as a kid and teenager when my mother would yell and scream about the bills. And when her Ex would berate us for leaving a light on in a room for a second while we went to grab something or something. The light thing only stopped when I got yelled at for being in the bathroom in the dark too much which meant people walked in on me a lot. Don't have to worry about that here because I've got my own.

If that stimulus doesn't come through for me either and my hours drop, I feel I'll probably sell my PS4 if I feel I need to. It wasn't something I actually wanted at all- just something Lon wanted me to have- and not a single person has used it since the end of October so... It's not really important at all. I'm tempted to sell my computer because it's worth at least $1,000 (custom build, all new parts from my ex), but I know I'll get kicked in the teeth for that one because I do use it and have such a nice desk for it. So PS4 and VR it is if it comes down to it.

I know how crazy and awful I sound. I do. I know. Especially Because we ARE fine right now... But this is where I'm at again mentally. And I have to deal with it on my own because everyone else gets sick of it and my stubbornly refusing nice things when my funds start to or threaten to dwindle. (I'd rather have $800 in the bank than a new gadget, Tevie 😠 take the hint!!)

I know we're 'fine'. I know Tevie gets mad at me when I start selling things instead of asking her to spend her money on my bills... But... Honestly.. with the trauma I have gone through and can't seem to stop going through, it's my defense. It's what I've got.

Tevie is EXACTLY as guilty as everyone else in our lives for being super DUPER pissed when asked for help. When her livelihood is threatened. So I don't WANT to bother even if I need to.

If someone doesn't want to spend their money on something or someone... They're going to get pissy and maybe, just maybe.. hold it over your damn head. It's why I feel so stuck all the time... Hyper independence and all that...

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Dreaming Out Loud

Chapter 27: Dreaming On

David hadn't had a chance yet to tell Emma what he had found in August's room, but figured he should still tell Gold first. He didn't know if August was telling the truth, but decided Gold deserved to know about this development right away. He hurried in the back way and to the front of the shop.

"Did you find anything?" Jefferson asked.

"Oh yeah...I found this in his things," David said, as he placed the drawing of the dagger on the counter. He watched Gold's face go ashen.

"Henry told me what it is and what it does," David said, looking at the pawnbroker.

"He's right...but the dagger is useless without magic," Gold stated.

"Henry said that too, but there's more. He told Henry that he's actually someone named Baelfire," David said, looking at Gold, who was now clutching the counter so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

"Baelfire...your son?" Jefferson asked, but Gold couldn't find his voice.

"So he says...but he sets off Emma's superpower like crazy," David replied.

"Is that really reliable?" Jefferson asked skeptically.

"If Emma thinks he's lying, then he is. About what or how much, we don't know. That's why I think we should be cautious about believing anything he says," David surmised, looking at Gold.

The Dark One knew his ability to be rational when it came to Baelfire was limited and he wanted it to be true, despite knowing the Prince had a very good point.

"Okay...let's say he is Baelfire. Why would your son be looking for the dagger?" Jefferson asked.

"He knows it's the source of my power," Gold replied.

"But there's no magic here...he has to know that," David reminded.

"Something doesn't add up to me," Jefferson added.

"Well...we could set him up to find out if he's really who he says," David suggested.

"How do you propose we do that?" Gold asked curiously.

"We know that he's looking for the dagger, so eventually he's going to come here to look. I say we let him find it," David replied.

"I don't let anyone just handle the dagger," Gold hissed.

"No, but you said it has no power here. Besides, we'll be watching when he does come. He won't have it long. Emma just got something she called security cameras in the mail. She explained to me what they do. She says they have them at the hospital. It's how she knew which way I went the night I woke up," David explained.

"Yeah, we know what security cameras are, chisel chin. But you discovering technology is still cute," Jefferson teased, making David roll his eyes.

"Anyway...he won't have the dagger long once we confront him," David continued.

"If he's a liar, it's probably the only way to get him to come clean...by backing him into a corner," Jefferson agreed.

"Fine...but we do this my way," Gold stated.

"If he isn't your son, I can't let you kill him," David warned.

"There are varying degrees between alive and dead," Gold countered.

"I think that was code for he's gonna kick his ass," Jefferson said.

"If he did lie to Henry, I can probably help you do that," David agreed, as he checked his watch.

"I need to get to the square to help Mary soon. If he shows up…" the prince said.

"I'll call you," Gold agreed, as David left the shop with Jefferson following him a bit later.

Lacey came in soon after that.

"Please tell me we're not going to that lame Miner's Day thing," she drawled. He smirked.

"As landlord to most people in this town, I'm required to make an appearance, but we don't have to stay long," he promised, as he got his coat.

"Good...too much of that bleeding heart stuff makes me nauseous," she complained.

"You and me both," Gold agreed, as he turned out the light and they left the darkened shop.

As school dismissed for the day, Mary started packing up her things, including the candles she had left, and prepared to head directly the square to finish setting up. Leroy stood on a ladder in her room, fixing one of the overhead lights in her classroom that was having a wiring problem. She watched him almost stumble off it, as Sister Astrid arrived and smiled to herself.

"Hello Mary Margaret," she greeted.

"Hello sister...I just want to apologize again that I couldn't sell all the candles," Mary said.

"It's not your fault and we still have a little time left. I've been praying for a miracle to fix my blunder," she replied.

"I do have a confession to make and I hope you don't hate me for it," Mary said with trepidation. Astrid smiled kindly.

"Mary Margaret, you are one of the sweetest, kindest people I know. I could never dislike you, let alone hate you," the nun assured her. She let out a relieved breath.

"Earlier today…Damon Tromera came by my classroom," Mary started to tell her.

"Oh my goodness...are you okay?" Astrid asked in concern. She nodded.

"He got me riled up, but I'm guessing that was probably his intent. I'm not sure what his ploy was, but he offered to buy the rest of the candles. He just scares me so much...I ripped up the check and Stephanie made him leave," Mary confessed.

"You did the right thing," Astrid agreed.

"Did she?" a voice said from the doorway, as they both turned to see Mother Superior standing there with a very cold, scrutinizing stare.

"Mother Superior…" Astrid started to say, but she was ignored.

"Miss Blanchard...the convent is in dire straights and the fact that you turned down a solution to our problem is deeply troubling," she said sternly.

"Mother Superior...that man hurt Mary Margaret and almost killed David. I don't think that is the kind of money we need," Astrid protested.

"Considering you are the reason we are in this predicament, you should be as upset as I am," Mother Superior snapped, as she looked back at Mary Margaret.

"Damon Tromera is a terrible man. I assure you that if he was trying to help, then it was probably to make himself look good for next week's trial," the teacher protested.

"I don't care...you had no right to turn down that money for the convent. We are not too proud to take his money. After all, he is a pillar of the community," she stated. Mary Margaret was appalled.

"A pillar of the community? He owns the sleaziest club in town! Emma says she suspects he's involved illegal things she can't prove! How can you call him a pillar of the community?" the raven haired beauty cried in outrage.

"I would watch your tone, Miss Blanchard. I hardly think someone like you should judge others," the head nun hissed and Mary blanched.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that I remember when David and Kathryn were married in my church. But instead of trying to make his marriage work, David left her and allowed himself to be seduced by the pathetic woman who visited him every day while he was in a coma," she said harshly and Mary was taken aback by her hostility. She shook her head.

"David is divorced and we love each other. We aren't doing anything wrong," she said.

"Keep telling yourself that, dear," Mother Superior said.

"I'm sure she will, just like you will," Leroy grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Mother Superior snapped, glaring at the handyman.

"Just saying, sister. The gossip around town is that Damon Tromera is dropping cash in the forms of charitable donations all over, including at the hospital and the church," Leroy stated.

"That has nothing to do with this and it's none of your business," Mother Superior snapped.

"So...Damon is buying his way through town in hopes to sway the trial next week," Mary said. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one she wasn't really surprised by.

"The church has many needs and cannot be picky like you, Miss Blanchard," Mother Superior defended.

"Sure...you can take money from a man that runs a club that probably moves drugs and has strippers, but you refuse to recognize David's divorce," Mary said.

"Miss Blanchard…" Mother Superior hissed.

"No...I get it. He throws money everywhere so he gets a pass. But I'm dating a man that's been divorced for years and I'm the tramp. I should be used to that in this town by now," she added sadly.

"I don't have time for this anymore...I need to get to the square and hope that we can earn enough donations to pay our rent, since you decided to throw away the solution to that problem," Mother Superior said, as she stormed out.

"Mary Margaret...I'm so sorry," Astrid apologized. The raven haired beauty sniffed.

"It's okay...it's not your fault. I should have known better than to get my hopes up, you know? Next week, Damon Tromera is going to get away with terrorizing me and David, because he's already probably bought the judge and jury," she sniffed.

"We don't know that," Astrid tried to assure her.

"We kind of do, sister. As much as it sucks, she's right. This whole town is messed up," Leroy deadpanned and received an annoyed look from the nun.

"You're not helping," she chided.

"Come on, let's take the rest of the candles to the square. You never know, we could still get that miracle," the nun tried to encourage the teacher.

"And if we don't, I'm sure Damon will swoop in and save the day in front of the whole town," Mary said, as she took a box and stalked out with it. Leroy watched them go and knew they had no chance of getting that miracle...unless he managed to create one.

Normally, he wouldn't even consider helping another person in this town. But Mary Margaret had always been kind to him when no one else bothered. And Astrid...he had admired and loved her from afar for years. Perhaps...he could make this happen for them and stick it to that rich sleazeball at the same time…

Jefferson milled about the square, trying to make sure it wasn't obvious that he was watching Grace with her foster parents. He ached to have his daughter back and as impatient as he was, he knew they were getting close. The curse was weakening, little by little. The changes were very subtle, but he saw more of them every day. Mary Margaret grew a little bolder each day with David and Emma's influence. Ruby was more conscious of her life choices and was actually getting along with Granny these days. She was much less Ruby and more Red every day. Leroy was here too and that was huge. Finding him anywhere but at the bottom of a bottle was progress, indeed. Regina still had her cronies and supporters, but once the curse broke, that tide would change in an instant. He had never put much faith in leadership, but he was eager to know what a Storybrooke under Snow White and Prince Charming might be like. He knew it meant family and that was enough for him to throw his support behind them once it came time for the battles ahead.

"Well...I'm surprised to see you here. Don't you usually experience everything from behind your telescope?" Regina jabbed, as she sided up to the hatter.

"Things are different this year...as I'm sure you've noticed," he replied, a bit smugly. He wouldn't deny that he greatly enjoyed watching Regina squirm.

"Well enjoy them while you can, because if I have my way, next year will look very different," Regina said through barely contained rage.

"I think it's time you get real, Madam Mayor. Because this can of worms, so to speak, has been blown wide open and you can't just put everything back neatly the way it was," Jefferson warned.

"Oh, we'll see about that, now won't we?" she asked, as she brushed past him. He watched her go and saw her and Emma glare daggers at each other from across the square. The Mayor put her hand firmly on young Henry's shoulder, as if she was trying to make a statement with that one gesture. But what the Mayor didn't seem to understand was that the tighter she gripped Henry, the more he would slip away. His yearning to be with his biological family was growing stronger by the day. He wondered if the Mayor realized that if she were just to let him go that she might find that he would return willingly to her. After all, he knew the boy loved her, despite what she had done. If Regina would just allow him to be with the other people he loved as well, they'd all be happier. It made him wonder why this town, with all its people under her thumb, was really her happy ending. He'd watched the monotony for the last twenty-eight years. It was boring and nothing had happened before Emma came to town, save for when Regina adopted him.

It was that thought that struck him then. He didn't pretend to know a lot about the American adoption system, but it did make him wonder what kind of red tape Gold had to cut through to allow Regina to adopt Henry with no questions asked and no follow up from the supposed Adoption agency. Now there was a question he wanted to ask and he had a feeling, given Gold's current feelings toward their esteemed Mayor, that was a question Gold might be willing to answer.

With the arrival of Mary Margaret, he saw David's face light up and then turn down in concern, as he ensconced her in his arms. It looked like Mary Margaret Blanchard hadn't had a good day at all and wondered if it was about it get worse with Damon Tromera strutting smugly toward the square with Albert Spencer. The electricity in the air with all these opposing forces was volatile and promised fireworks in Storybrooke tonight, for if there was one thing that was true about Storybrooke these days; it was no longer boring.

David smiled, as he saw her, but frowned soon after and pulled her into his arms as she reached him.

"Hey...are you okay?" he asked, as she buried her face in his chest. She found herself breathing in his scent and relishing his arms around her.

"I'm okay now...it just wasn't a very good day," she sniffed and he could tell she had been crying.

"What happened?" he asked. Whoever had made her cry was going to get an earful from him for sure. He hated that there were people that treated her so terribly in this town. He knew most of it was the curse and Regina had managed to turn the opinion of some against her, but he still hated it.

"Tell me…" he pleaded, as he caressed her beautiful face.

"Well...first Damon Tromera showed up at the my classroom," she said, wincing when she saw him go rigid and his eyes shoot toward the man like blue fire.

"He did what?" he growled.

"It's okay...I wasn't alone. I'm not exactly sure what his ploy was, but he tried to buy the rest of the candles, like he was doing me a favor. Stephanie made him leave and I ripped up the check," she replied.

"Of course...we don't need his dirty money. We'll sell the rest of these candles," he assured.

"That's what I told Sister Astrid and she agreed that we couldn't take money from that man. Unfortunately, Mother Superior didn't share our opinion," she said sadly.

"Mary...I don't care what she said, because you did the right thing," he implored. She nodded and sniffed.

"I know...it just still hurts, you know? The names...but I think it hurts more that she refuses to recognize your divorce," she replied.

"Listen...you are not any of those names. You are the woman I love and the woman I'm meant to be with," he said. She smiled and nodded.

"I know...I think I can ignore the names as long as I have you," she replied. He smiled and kissed her tenderly.

"And you do have me…" he promised, as her eyes fluttered open. The festivities commenced and they were still struggling a bit with the candle sales. David nearly lost his cool when Damon strode up to the table and he put his hands on Mary Margaret's shoulders.

"I spoke with Mother Superior and I'm willing to ignore your earlier rejection of my contribution. A simple apology and your money woes will be over. These candles will look lovely in my club," he goaded.

"She doesn't owe you anything and we don't want anything from you," David growled. He smirked smugly.

"It continues to puzzle me why you choose to be with this pretty idiot when I could show you a life of luxury and sophistication with me," Damon goaded.

"You mean the life where you treat me as your possession?" she countered.

"Well...you are a prize for sure," he retorted.

"I love David and he loves me. We don't want anything to do with you, I don't care how many names I am called, but I will never accept anything from you. It would be like making a deal with the devil himself," she retorted back hotly. Damon glared at them both, as David was the one smiling smugly this time, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Have a good evening, Miss Blanchard," he hissed, as he moved along and she let out a breath of relief.

"You are amazing," he told her, as he kissed her cheek.

"He's just so scary and creepy. He makes my skin crawl," she replied. He kissed her head.

"I know...we'll beat him though," he promised.

"I want to believe that, but Leroy said he's been making donations all over town. The convent, the hospital, every charity there is...David he's buying the jury," she fretted. He hugged her tightly.

"I know...but I still have to believe we can win and even if we don't, he's never touching you again," he replied. She was trying to think that was possible, but from the way her candle sales were going, she was having difficulty. What she didn't notice, however, was that Leroy had climbed onto the roof of hardware store where he had wired all the lighting from.

David saw him and looked at him curiously, but the shorter man simply motioned to the breaker box and held up his wire cutters. David smiled, catching onto to what he had in mind and gave him a thumbs up.

Suddenly, all the lights went dark and he was quick to start lighting candles on their table, giving off a glow. Mary looked at him and he grinned.

"We have candles!" she called and watched in amazement, as people began lining up at her table. Emma smiled, as she took one and stood by the table.

"Great timing for a blackout," she whispered to her dad.

"Well...the bad guys never play fair, so sometimes good has to stack the deck a little," he replied. By the time the line dissipated, they had sold out of the candles and Mary was in awe.

"We did it...we sold them all. We made enough for the rent at the convent!" she exclaimed. He picked her up and spun her around.

"I told you you'd do it," he said, as he kissed her. Her day had gone from bad to worse and then somehow had turned out good. But she could have never known at that moment that it would go from good to fantastic.

"You know...I've been waiting for the perfect moment to ask you a very important question and I don't think I'll ever get a better or a more romantic moment," he mentioned, as the candlelight around them created the perfect glow. She cocked her head to the side, wondering what he meant.

"I love you more than anything and I love making you as happy as you make me. I know the only thing that would make me happier than being your boyfriend...is being your husband," he said, as he got down on one knee and pulled the ring from his pocket. She gasped and they quickly drew everyone's attention.

"Mary Margaret Blanchard...will you marry me and be my wife?" he asked. A few tears escaped down her fair cheeks, but this time they were happy tears and she nodded her head.

"Yes…" she choked out.

"Yes!" she exclaimed again, as he put the ring on her finger and then stood up to pull her into his arms. He crushed his lips against hers and held her flush against him, as their lips moved passionately over each other's. Most everyone present applauded for them, while Regina glared murderously at them. Damon and Albert Spencer looked none too pleased as well, but David couldn't find it in himself to care about the possible threat they posed. So instead, he glared right back at them when his lips parted from Mary's and they basked in the congratulatory celebration from their friends. Emma hugged them both and they gathered together, as the fireworks to end the festivities began. For the moment, there was another victory for the side of good, even if the war between good and evil was far from over...