#imagine if in nyc there were no subways

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.2

pt.1 pt.3

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, eventual weed, tattoo artist ellie, cigs, drinking, no smut this time but there will be eventually, swearing

a/n - second chapter, i hope you like it!! the pic is not how I want you to imagine reader bc I like to keep her pretty neutral in terms of what she looks like in order for u to fill that in, it's just a pic I found!

The four of you rode the subway towards the club. Dina and Jesse were quite talkative, and you managed to make conversation with them, but Ellie was dead quiet. You wondered if it was always like this or if it was because of you. From what little you’d seen of her interacting with her friends before you came into the mix, you guessed it was the latter.

You tried to pay it no mind, and for the most part it worked. Dina and Jesse were fun to talk to, and you felt excited for the night. You’d never been to the subway this late and it wasn’t uncomfortably packed like in the mornings. However, there were still plenty of people who judging by their outfits looked like they were going to the club as well.

You got to chatting about your back story. You told them you used to live in a small, conservative town which you were fond of in some ways, but that was ultimately not the place for you. They were impressed that you’d made the move on your own, saying that it must’ve taken guts to come from a town like that to New York all on your own, and at such a young age. You told them you hadn’t really thought of it that way. Leaving your hometown wasn’t an act of bravery, it was…survival. When you said that, it was the only time Ellie turned her head to look at you.

You talked about your job, and told them they should come visit you sometime for a drink on the house, earning you some excited chatter. You found out that Jesse was a freelance graphic designer and Dina worked at an independent bookstore to pay the bills but did theater on the side. You were fascinated hearing them talk about it. Jesse worked on his own terms, while Dina was passionate about what she did.

Then they started talking about Ellie’s job as a tattoo artist. They showed you pictures of work she’d done, all her own designs. You weren’t very knowledgeable about what constituted as a good tattoo but you were pretty sure she was really good at her job. The designs were gorgeous, and you could tell she had put a lot of passion into them as well as just technique. You looked at her as they talked. She was making a point not to look back at you.

Your attention was drawn to the skin showing on the parts of her t-shirt that were cut out. It was inked at the ribs, which you hadn’t noticed before. You wondered about what other designs were hidden under her clothes.

When you got off the subway, Jesse led you down two blocks to the place he’d talked about. There was already a line growing by the minute. Thankfully, it moved relatively fast, and soon you were at the door, showing the bouncer your fake id. When he waved you in you made a point to look back at Ellie, smile, and shrug. If she wanted to hate you so much, why not give her a good reason to?

Her expression was passive on the surface, but you could feel the hardness of her stare.

The club was, at first, a little daunting to you. You’d only been to bars with pool tables and jukebox machines. The lights, packed bodies and fake smoke were a lot on the senses, but you soon began to enjoy the chaos and your anxiety melted away. The four of you got drinks at the bar—beers for Ellie and Jesse, and a vodka cran for Dina. You followed her example, sighing when you looked at the price.

You stood there by the counter, sipping your drink, unsure of what to do now. Should you go straight to the dance floor? How did this work?

Dina slid in next to you, smirking. “Hey. Sorry about Ellie. She can be a real asshole.” She and Jesse were off to the side, not too far away, but out of earshot due to the noise.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you guys invited me. I guess I just wish I knew why she hates me so much.”

Dina tilted her head to the side. “Oh, I don’t think she hates you. She’s just kind of weird around new people. She’s been stressed about her job, and I guess she wanted to unwind today? Then Jesse invites you to come with us, which I obviously have no problem with—but now she has to deal with a new person. You know, judging by what she said about your id, she probably just thought you were uptight. And after what you said about being from a small conservative town and all, she probably thought you were conservative too. But I don’t think you’d move here, or be here”—she waved a hand around.—“if you were.” She smirked. “She’ll warm up to you though, I think.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” You laugh.

Dina’s brows shoot up. “What, is there something I don’t know about?”

“Uh, well, it’s nothing really. It’s just…”

“Uh huh…Go on.”

“Well, when the bouncer let me in with my fake id, I kind of looked back at Ellie and smiled. And uh. Shrugged.”

Dina turned to you, slapped her hand on the counter and laughed. “Oh my God! Fuck, that’s funny. I mean, it wouldn’t be a big deal with most people, but Ellie? Yeah, that definitely pissed her off. Totally deserved, though. I would’ve killed to see her face.”

You flashed a smile. “It was pretty damn great.”

“Damn, y/n! I didn’t know you were ballsy like that. But you know what? She respects ballsy girls. She just has to get over her pride first.”

“Oh, I imagine that’s going to be hard for her.”

Dina laughed. “Yup.” She took a sip of her drink, then looked off to the side and raised her brows. “Look who’s already getting down.”

You turned your face to see what she was talking about. Ellie was on the dance floor next to a pretty girl, gazing at her with a look you hadn’t seen on her face before. It wasn’t exactly of pure lust, but there was definitely something there. Her eyes were crawling all over the girl’s body. You felt a pang of jealousy, which pissed you off. You were supposed to be over your little crush already. You wanted to be.

“She hooks up with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Leaves them all pent up for her, then ditches them. It’s pretty shitty, but I guess she never promised them anything in the first place.” Dina finished her drink in one big gulp and grimaced just the slightest bit. “These days she’s not really the dating type.”

You were almost done with your drink, and still a little bit buzzed off the wine. Curiosity was getting the best of you. It also helped that Dina was so nice, and definitely not sober as well. Two drunk people just made each other drunker. “Bad experience with an ex?” You asked.

“Oh yeah. That and she’s always so busy with work, I guess she just doesn’t see the point.”

You turned to the counter so Ellie and the girl were out of your sight then finished the vodka cran. “I guess being a tattoo artist must take up a lot of your time.”

“That and her side gig.” You looked at her, and she winked. “I’ll let her tell you about that.” She glanced at both of your empty glasses and pouted. “Wanna get a tequila shot then go dance?” Her pout turned into a wide grin.

You mirrored it. “Hell yeah.”

-

You’d lost track of how long you’d been dancing. Between the move and the new job, it’d been a while since you’d had alcohol, and your tolerance was not what it usually was. Which was perfect to you. You were just the right amount of drunk, enough to have fun and not care about whether or not you looked silly and not enough to the point where you felt out of control or sick.

The music was great to dance to, and the speakers were of course the best you’d ever heard. The notes seemed to almost reverberate inside you. As the music got more intense you raised your hands and jumped to the beat, then accidentally bumped hard into somebody.

“Shit—“ You said, but swallowed the sorry when you saw who it was.

An annoyed looking Ellie was standing there, right next to the girl from before. She gaped back at you when she noticed that Ellie had stopped moving. The tension was palpable.

“Hey, Elliee.” Dina danced closer. “Having fun?”

“I need a smoke, actually.” She started to move away without the girl.

“Ooh, same!” Without asking, Dina grabbed your hand and led you to the outdoor smoking area.

The smell of cigarette smoke hit you as soon as you stepped outside. You felt a little embarrassed to be there, but Dina had been the one to drag you out. And a drunk cig did sound amazing at that moment. Dina waved to Ellie, who was lying back against the wall lighting a cigarette.

“Hey. You know where Jesse is?” Dina said.

“I saw him talking to some girl at the bar on the way here. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Cool.” Dina placed her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly. “Can we bum one off you?” Ellie pushed off the wall and took her pack of Marlboro reds from out of her pocket, letting Dina take one. “Remind me why you never buy your own?”

“Because,” she began. “I don’t wanna get hooked like you.” She looked back at you while she took Ellie’s lighter and began to light the cig. “Shit, I forgot to ask if you even smoke. I guess that living here you kind of just assume everyone does?”

Ellie scoffed.

“I do,” You said, ignoring her. “I usually bum cigs from my friends too. I’m more of a smoker when drinking.”

“Right! That’s the best way to do it.” Dina blew the puff of smoke upwards so it wouldn’t hit your face, then passed it to you. “So, y/n. Anyone in there caught your eye?”

You smiled sheepishly, taking a drag. “Uh, not yet. I wish.”

“Well, what are you into? Boys, girls, your type…you know.”

Ellie. You were into girls like Ellie. You bit your lip. She was peering at you, tip of her cigarette burning orange as she took a drag. If you started describing your type, saying you liked masc, tatted up girls with baggy clothes, how would that look?

“Um…” You started. “Girls.” Ellie’s brows raised just the slightest bit before she looked away. How’s that for conservative?

Dina leaned back into the wall. “A win for us! And what else?” If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was flirting with you. But it seemed to you that that was just her style, friendly and flirty at once.

“Um. I like…girls who aren’t that feminine.” You hoped that was less obvious than straight up saying masc.

Dina smiled without teeth, brows slightly raised. Fuck, she was onto you, wasn’t she? You hadn’t exactly been that discrete, poking around about Ellie’s love life. And what must she be thinking about you being into a girl that had only treated you like shit? But then again, Dina seemed like she wasn’t the judging type. In fact, she seemed quite open-minded when it came to that stuff…And like she enjoyed the drama. You had to admit that so did you. You wouldn’t be into girls like Ellie if you didn’t.

“Well then, y/n. Let’s go find you a girl.”

-

The girl Dina had pointed out to you had hair cropped close to her head, and wore black from head to toe. You did in fact find her attractive. Not as much as Ellie, you thought, before pushing that concept away. Ellie didn’t like you. She’d made that clear enough. Besides, you were drunk and wanted to have a good time.

It was that very same state of being drunk that gave you enough courage to come up to the girl and ask her if she wanted to dance. She said yes with a cute smile on her face, and the two of you made your way onto the dance floor. You were a bit shy at first, but she just kept grinning at you as if she was so into you that you eventually gained enough confidence to dance the way you wanted, moving your body without reservations.

At some point, you noticed Ellie staring.

She was at the bar with Dina and Jesse, who had appeared out of nowhere and was currently drinking a beer with her. You could see his mouth move as he talked to her, but she just sat there leaning against the counter, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You couldn’t parse what her expression meant. But you knew one thing, that she was watching what you were doing.

You stepped in closer to the girl, touching her shoulders, running your hands over her clavicle. The both of you started dancing slower. She put her hands on your waist. You got in close, so close she couldn’t tell where your eyes were really at. You moved your body lazily, deliberately, tilting your head this way and that as the girl moved her hands down your body to toy with the hem of your dress.

Ellie kept staring, not once deviating her gaze.

pt.3

-

a/n - heyy so... sorry about forgetting to warn you guys about the slow burn. i'm planning on getting the next chapter done and up tomorrow tho, and I promise it's going to be good ;)

also, do nyc clubs have outdoor smoking areas like they do where I live? idk. let's just pretend they for sure do...

[wandanatsgf]

While You Were Sleeping

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular. 

Author's note: This is basically just the Sandra Bullock movie While You Were Sleeping, but with Natasha as Peter and Wanda as Jack. I made a couple of changes to speed things up and make it my own but the plot is pretty much the same.

Today was Christmas Day, a joyous time for everyone. New York was beautiful this time of year. Bells were ringing, snow was falling, and lights were glistening all around, but it’s not like you would get to see much of it because of your job as a transit worker. That is where you currently are, stuck behind a booth.

You sit behind the same booth day in and day out, giving out tickets and occasionally helping people with directions. You’re unable to see anything but the subway until you leave. It’s a very monotonous job, but it pays the bills, and you can’t complain about that.

Even your home life is rather boring. You live in a tiny, slightly run down apartment building, but at least the super is nice. You can’t say the same for his son, Leo, though, who hits on you every chance he gets. You take it though because you won’t be able to find an apartment this cheap anywhere else.

The only thing that makes your day better is her. She enters the subway station everyday at 8am to wait for the 8:15 train and then she comes back on the 5:15 train. Sometimes she stops to talk to you for a few minutes, and it always makes your day. So far you’ve learned that her name is Natasha, she works in finance, and judging by the gold ring on her finger, she’s engaged. But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming about her. It’s not like your little crush would ever lead to anything anyway.

She always has her red hair in a fashionable updo and her clothes are the latest styles. You can tell by the gold Rolex on her wrist and the tone of her voice that she is someone important, someone with money.

You like to imagine that it’s you she’s talking to in that stern voice whenever she's on the phone, you she goes home to in her, what you assume to be, lavish apartment. But you know that idea is just a fantasy that you use to escape your boring life, and you’re okay with that. It still doesn’t stop you from admiring her though.

“The things you’d give just to lay under her,” you think to yourself. The thought makes you blush and turn your head away from the redhead who is standing just a few feet away from you near the edge of the subway platform. 

You suddenly hear a scream and see two people running away with what looks like Natasha’s purse, but you don’t see Natasha. People start to crowd around the platform, looking over the edge at something. You run out of the booth you had been sitting in and you peer over the edge of the platform and there you see Natasha, lying motionless. Without thinking, you climb down onto the tracks next to her.

“Natasha,” you say, trying to coax her awake. “Come on, wake up," you say trying to wake her. A loud horn startles you, causing you to look up. A train is coming right for the two of you. You try to pull her off the tracks, but you’re too weak, so you do the only thing you can think of to do. You climb on top of her, wrapping your arms around her. You roll the two of you out of the way just in time, landing on the shoulder of the rails.

Your heart is beating fast as you check the two of you over, making sure the both of you are okay. Natasha still hasn't woken up, she must have a concussion or some sort of brain injury, you realize. With the help of some other civilians, you're able to get the both of you to safety. Pretty soon, the two of you are in your respective ambulances on the way to the hospital.

You're checked over pretty quickly and discharged. The only injury you had were a couple of scrapes, luckily. As you're being discharged, you ask the nurse about Natasha, but she says that she can't tell you anything.

"Ok thanks anyway," you say turning to leave.

"I was going to marry her," you say under your breath to yourself, referencing you silly little fantasies. You start to walk out the door when the nurse calls you back.

"If that's the case I can take you right to her," the nurse tells you. You don't have the heart to correct her and you're too embarrassed to say anything. You're not even sure why you said that out loud, but you did, and you're thankful because now you can check on Natasha.

She's laying in the hospital bed. She has a cut on her forehead and all sorts of wires and machines hooked up to her. You sit down in a chair next to her, telling her that everything will be alright, but you're not even sure that she can hear you. You continue talking to her until you hear a loud ruckus in the hallway that then enters the room.

In walks an older, tall bearded man, a shorter brunette haired woman, and another blonde haired woman, who looks to be close to your age. They all file into the room with the doctor and the nurse from earlier right behind them.

"What's going on, what happened?" the man asks at the same time as his wife asks, "What's wrong with my baby?"

"I'm sorry but you daughter is in a coma," the doctor says. All three of these strangers faces crumble. "She'll pull through. She's healthy, her brain waves are good," the doctor adds.

"Brain waves?" the blonde girl says, mostly to herself, you think.

This is when you try to make your escape. You try to leave the room unnoticed while everyone is talking, when the doctor brings the attention onto you.

"Your daughter was pushed off of the subway platform, but this girl right here saved her," the doctor says, shoving you forward.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Natasha's father asks.

"Her fiancée," the nurse standing next to him says before you can explain. Suddenly the room is in an uproar with everyone talking over one another. You try to interject and explain that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but it's no use, so you just give in.

"Fiancée?" everyone questions.

"I didn't know Natasha has a fiancée," you hear someone say. "When did she leave Maria?" another person asks.

"I guess it makes sense that we don't know these things. We haven't really talked to Natasha in two years," the mother says. Everyone accepts this answer, and for that you are grateful.

You are about to try and leave again when someone starts speaking to you. "Thank you for saving our Natasha," Natasha's father says. He embraces you and it's then that you know that you can't tell this kind family the truth, at least not yet. You let him embrace you and then the rest of the family joins the hug.

"Natasha won't be up for a while, why don't the four of you go get something to eat and then come back," the doctor suggests. Before you can even answer you are being pulled along by the family and led to the cafeteria, where they buy you some dinner.

"It's the least we could do," they say, which just makes you feel guiltier.

"So how did you and Natasha meet?" Natasha's mother, who you now know is named Melina, asks.

"We met at my job, I work at the subway as an attendant. She always takes the subway and one day we just got to talking and really hit it off," you tell them. You know the more you lie the more dangerous webs you spin, but you can't tell this family the truth now.

"What first caught your eye about her?" Yelena, who you now know is Natasha's sister, asks.

"Her smile, it's truly beautiful," you say, answering honestly.

"They're caps, 600 bucks a tooth," Alexei says under his breath, laughing to himself. You can't stop yourself from laughing too.

The more time you spend with this family, the more you fall in love with them. They're bright, cheery, and just so much fun to be around. You can tell that they truly love each other. At the same time, it makes you long for your family who is now long gone. Your mother died when you were a baby and your father a year ago, leaving you all alone. It's nice not to be alone again, and you don't want to let go of this feeling, at least not yet.

The four of you check on Natasha one last time before everyone decides to go their separate ways for the night.

"Dear," Melina says before you leave. ""Come celebrate Christmas with us tomorrow. I know tomorrow isn't Christmas but with everything that's happened today we didn't get to celebrate and we'd love to have you over."

"I'd love to celebrate with you," you tell her.

"Oh and Wanda will be there too! You haven't met her yet but I'm sure she'll love you," Yelena adds. She gives you her family's address and a hug before you walk out of the hospital and go home for the night.

The next day you are up bright and early, excited about seeing people and getting to be apart of a family, if only for a little while. You get dressed in a nice sweater and jeans and pretty soon you are standing at the Romanoff's door. You knock and a beautiful girl with auburn hair answers the door.

"Hi, who are you?" the girl asks.

"Y/n, who are you?"

"Oh you must be Natasha's fiancée. I'm Wanda, her adopted sister."

"It's nice to meet you," you say.

"It's nice to meet you too darling," Wanda tells you. The nickname sends a blush to your cheek, but you're not sure why. Wanda lets you into the house and you're quickly enveloped in a hug by the family.

"Y/n we're so glad you could make it," Melina says.

"Thank you for inviting me," you tell her. "And here's this," you tell her, handing her a cake you had purchased for them on your way home last night.

"Thank you hon this smells delicious." Melina goes and sets the cake on the counter and then everyone sits around the couch and Yelena and Wanda start to show you baby pictures of Natasha.

"This one is from when she saved a squirrel," Yelena says. "And this one is from when she won a spelling bee."

"She won a lot of those," Wanda adds, making you laugh.

The three of you look at Natasha's pictures for quite some time, but the whole time you can't take your eyes off of the girl sitting next to you. There's something about Wanda that is just magnetic, but maybe that's just a family trait, you assume.

"Family picture," Alexei yells out.

The four of them crowd around the tree and you stay seated, not wanting to ruin this moment.

"Y/n get up here," Melina tells you.

"Are you sure?" you ask, not wanting to join the photo and ruin it.

"Of course I'm sure, you're family now." Melina pulls you into the photo, having you stand next to Wanda.

"Say cheese," Alexei says, holding the camera out in order to capture everyone.

"Cheese," everyone says in unison.

"That's an amazing picture. That's going on the wall." Alexei passes the camera around and everyone agrees. When the camera gets to you, however, the picture knocks the wind out of you. You hadn't seen yourself look that happy in a long time. You're smiling and it's a genuine smile, not the smile you give to the strangers at work, but an actual smile. You looked like you belonged in this family, even if you really didn't.

The next thing the family does is presents, which you did not come prepared for.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," you tell the family.

"Your presence is enough dear. You've brought this family closer and we could never thank you enough for that," Melina tells you, making you tear up.

"We did get you something though," Yelena tells you after everyone has opened their gifts. Yelena hands you a beautifully wrapped package and inside is the most beautiful jacket you have ever seen. It's burgundy with a black fur trim. It's exactly your size and style and everything.

"It's perfect you guys. Thank you," you say, tears falling from your eyes.

"You don't need to thank us, you're family now," Wanda says.

The night goes by too fast for your liking, and before you know it, it's time for you to go home.

"You can't go home in that weather y/n," Yelena says. You know she's right, it's practically a blizzard out there, but you feel like you've taken enough of their kindness for granted.

"I should go home."

"That's nonsense," Melina says. "You can stay in the guest bedroom."

"Ok," you say quickly agreeing, not wanting to truly walk out of this home, and this family's life forever. Wanda shows you to the guest room and shows you where everything is.

"Let me know if you need anything honey," she tells you before walking off. The nickname once again causing you to blush.

You quickly settle into the room, but you have trouble falling asleep. It's like no matter what you do, you just can't sleep. You get up and out of bed, deciding to go get a glass of water. You pull a glass out of the cabinet and you start filling it up when you hear some noise behind you. You turn around to see Wanda.

"What are you doing up?" she asks.

"I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I couldn't sleep either."

The two of you stand their in silence for a while, neither sure what to say to the other, until Wanda finally breaks the silence.

"So how long have you and Nat been together?"

"About a year," you say, hoping that that is an acceptable answer. A low hmm is the only response that you get. You’re not sure what it means, but you try not to think too much into it.

“What do you do for work?” You ask the auburn haired girl, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I’m an antiques dealer. I work for the family business.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s really not.” You can’t contain your laughter when she says this.

“Yeah it’s not but I think that’s still an interesting fact about you.”

“So what made you choose the transit authority?” Wanda asks you.

“Well a couple years ago my dad got sick. His bills were expensive and I just got the first job I could find. And then he died and here I am years later,” you explain. You don’t know it yet, but Wanda’s heart melts a little bit at this explanation, at how caring you are.

“I think that was very selfless of you.”

“Thank you Wanda.” Yet again a blush finds it’s way to your cheeks around this woman.

“So are you dating anyone?” You ask Wanda. You’re not quite sure why you asked her that. She thinks you’re with Natasha, but still a little selfish part of you wants to know.

“No I’m not. I’m single,” Wanda says, trying to slyly eye you up and down, but you catch her, which makes her cheeks pink. It’s a nice change of pace, being able to make her blush instead of the other way around. Wanda knows eyeing up her sisters fiancée is wrong, but it's harmless. It's not like she's going to act on her feelings.

Wanda looks away from you and moves to set her glass in the sink. She goes to walk away, when she turns around.

“Goodnight,” she says. She walks up to you, placing a light kiss on your cheek before making her way upstairs to her room.

“Goodnight,” you say back, not sure what else to say. You gently touch the place where her lips had met your skin and it brings a smile to your face.

After a while you decide to go to bed. You bring your glass of water with you and when you get to your room you set it on the nightstand. You climb into bed and drift off and as you dream, you dream of the beautiful auburn haired woman who is sleeping just a few doors down from you.

The next morning you have to work, so while the rest of the family is eating breakfast, you’re on your way out the door.

“We can’t wait to see you again,” Melina tells you while hugging you goodbye.

“I know we need to get together soon,” you tell her.

“We will,” she assures you. Alexei hugs you next, and wishes you well on your day.

After him the next person to hug you bye is Yelena, who promises that the next time you see her she will tell you plenty of embarrassing stories about Natasha, which you look forward to.

And then finally it is Wanda. “I’ll see you around,” you tell her, not quite sure what to say to her after last night.

“Yeah see you around,” she says back. She hugs you and you hug her back, neither one of you truly wanting to break off the hug, but you know that you have to.

You pull back from her and walk out the door, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your chest. You know what you’re doing is wrong, lying to this family. But it feels so nice to be apart of a family again, you don’t want to give it up. You decide to push these feelings down and make your out of the house.

Since you have a bit of time left before you have to go to work, you decide to go see Natasha. The drive to the hospital is quick and before you know it you're sitting beside Natasha, talking to her comatose body.

"Hi Natasha. I don't know if you can hear me, but I really hope you can. I'm the subway worker who saved you, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I hope you do. There's been a bit of a mix-up and everyone thinks I'm your fiancée. I've tried to explain but everything has just snowballed and I don't know what to do," you say. "I'm so sorry for what I'm doing. I hope when you wake up you can forgive me," you say. You go to stand up and leave, when a woman walks into the room.

"Are you Natasha Romanoff's fiancée?" The blonde woman asks. You assume she's a cop based off of the way she's dressed.

"Yes I am."

"I wanted to make sure her family got this," the woman says, handing you a small evidence bag that contains her wallet and keys, the two things the thieves didn't steal because they weren't in her purse.

"Thank you," you say to the woman, but you feel wrong for thanking her. You feel no better than the muggers who hurt Natasha. Because that's what you're doing, you're hurting Natasha and you're hurting her family with your lies that grow bigger and bigger everyday. But you can't tell the truth now, you don't want to lose them.

After the interaction with the cop you tell Natasha goodbye and you’re on your way to work. Your shift goes pretty smoothly, but the anxiety that has plagued you ever since this Natasha mess started doesn't go away, so you just try to ignore it. Pretty soon your shift is over and you're out the door.

Unbeknownst to you however, while you’re on your way home Wanda pays your apartment building a little visit, hoping to see you after your shift.

“Hi, do you live here? I’m looking for y/n y/l/n, this is her building right?” she asks a man who is outside working on his car.

“Yeah this is her building. I’m Leo the owner of this place,” he says, smacking the gum he has been chewing. If you had been there, you could've told Wanda that Leo was lying, that he's just the super's son, but you're not so she doesn't know.

Leo eyes Wanda up and down. The action gives her major creep vibes, but she stays rooted in her spot, determined to not let him know how he is affecting her.

“I was looking for y/n,” she explains. “I was just wondering if she’s here right now,” Wanda says, trying to keep her conversation with this man short and light.

“What do you need with my girl?” The sentence takes Wanda aback. What does he mean his girl?

“I’m sorry?”

“What do you want with my girlfriend?”

“I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“Well she is, even if she told you differently,” the man says defensively. This sends alarms ringing in Wanda’s head. And it is at this time that you walk up to the building.

“Hi Wanda,” you cheerfully greet her. “Leo,” you say, unable to keep the disdain from your voice. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you. Why don’t you come on up?” Wanda smiles and shakes her head yes, letting you lead her into the building and into your apartment.

“So Leo is,” Wanda says, the end of her sentence trailing off because she’s not sure what to say.

“Yeah he’s weird, crazy, whatever you want to call him,” you supply.

“Yeah that,” she laughs. “He said you were his girlfriend.”

“He always tells people that.” You roll your eyes, annoyed at Leo for lying to Wanda. “I’ve turned him down like a million times but he never listens, but he’s pretty harmless.”

“I’m glad he’s harmless at least.” You nod in agreement.

“So how are you holding up?” Wanda asks, referencing Natasha. The sympathy in her voice almost makes you want to tell her the truth about everything.

“I’m alright,” you say instead. “I’m keeping busy.”

“That's good, you know my family and I are here for you. Whatever you need y/n/n, you just have to ask." Wanda's response brings a smile to your face.

"Thank you Wanda," you say enveloping her in a hug. She wraps her arms around you and you melt into her. The two of you only breakaway when Natasha's keys, that you had forgotten about until now, softly poke Wanda.

"What's that?" Wanda asks. She knows they're not your keys in your pocket because you had placed yours in a dish by the door.

"Oh they're Nat's keys. A cop gave them to me earlier at the hospital."

"Have you been over to her place since?" Wanda travels off, not wanting to truly mention Natasha's accident.

"No, not yet." You softly shake your head.

"We could go now, it might be helpful," Wanda suggests. You know you should say no. This is an invasion of Natasha's privacy, but your curiosity and desire to be with Wanda win so you say yes.

The drive there is pleasant, the two of you converse for a while before Wanda pulls into the parking garage. The two of you get out of her car and you walk into the building, letting Wanda lead the way since you have no idea were you're going.

"So how often have you been here?" Wanda asks as the both of you ride up the elevator.

"Oh just once or twice," you say, hoping to cover up the truth. A soft hmm is the only response that you get. You pray that Wanda isn't on to you. Wanda leads the way to Natasha's apartment and you unlock the door with Natasha's keys after a bit of difficulty.

Wanda eyes you suspiciously while you wrestle with the keys. You've been here once or twice, shouldn't you know which way the key goes? Maybe you're just stressed, Wanda tells herself. It would make sense because Wanda certainly is.

The two of you walk into Natasha's apartment and you stare at everything starstruck. This place is so much nicer than you could have imagined.

"Wow," you say under your breath.

"You're looking a bit starstruck y/n, you're acting like you've never been here." Wanda laughs and you laugh with her, trying not to let her on to the fact that this is in fact your first time here.

"It's just every time I come here it just gets more beautiful I feel like," you say, hoping that's a logical excuse.

"Yeah I guess it is pretty nice. I prefer something a bit more homey."

"This place is missing a bit of a personal touch," you say, agreeing with what Wanda said about Natasha's lack of homey vibes. "It's very Natasha though."

"Yes very," Wanda says, agreeing with you this time." You're about to say something else when Wanda's phone starts to ring.

"Hello," she says into the receiver. "What, really? Ok we're on our way," she says before hanging up.

"Nat's awake," she says. There is excitement written all over Wanda's face, which you try to reciprocate, but on the inside all you feel is dread. You know in a few minutes everyone will know that you're a liar and you'll lose this family that you have created.

"Come on let's go," Wanda say. "And grab Nat's car keys, I wanna take her car." You do as Wanda says and the two of you make your way to the parking garage.

You walk in the direction that you hope Natasha's car is in, praying you don't look lost.

"You know which one is Natasha's car right? You where it's parked don't you?"

"Of course I do," you say, totally bluffing. You hit the lock button on the key fob, waiting to see which car's horn goes off. As luck would have it, the black corvette stingray in front of you goes off.

You slide into the drivers side while Wanda sits next to you on the passenger side. The whole way there all you can think about is how you hopefully just passed whatever sort of test Wanda was just putting you through. You think you passed, because Wanda doesn't ask you anymore questions. Before you know it you're at the hospital freaking out over seeing Natasha.

"I don't know if I can do this," you mutter. You can feel yourself starting to freak out, your anxiety climbing higher and higher.

"Of course you can," Wanda says. "It's just Natasha." Wanda places a comforting hand on your shoulder. Unfortunately her words do not help, but her actions do.

"Thanks Wanda."

"Anytime y/n." The two of you walk to Natasha's room and soon you're face to face with the woman you have had a crush on for a while. She's laying in bed, looking rather worse for wear.

"Hey Nat, look who's here," Wanda says.

"I'm sorry who's that?" Natasha asks, sitting up.

"Your fiancée, don't you recognize her?"

"I'm sorry I don't," Natasha says. It makes sense to you because of course she doesn't recognize you, but Natasha's words make Wanda run for the doctor.

"Stay with her, I'll be back," Wanda says.

"So how long have we been together?" Natasha asks once it's just the two of you.

"A year," you say, telling her the lie you've been telling everyone else.

"Oh," is the only thing Natasha says.

"Yeah," you say, even though you have no idea what that oh means. Pretty soon the doctor and Wanda walk back in, bringing a sense of relief to you.

"Natasha what's the last thing you remember?" The doctor asks as he walks in.

"Umm," Natasha says, really trying to think on her answer.

"I think breaking up with Maria."

"Ok," the doctor says.

"And what month and year is it?"

"January 1994." That answer shocks everyone in the room because while it is currently January, the year is 1995, not 1994.

"I'm sorry Natasha, but you seem to be missing a year of memories," the doctor says before he slips out.

"I guess it makes sense why she doesn't remember you now," Wanda says.

The only thing you can think of when you hear this is how great everything has worked out for you. You're grateful that you can stay in this family just a little bit longer, but then your conscious weighs you down. You're about to spill the beans when Natasha starts to talk again.

"So I don't remember my fiancée," Natasha says to herself. "Well that's pretty shitty."

"You can always make some new memories with her Nat. Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise, you can fall in love with her all over again," Wanda says, trying to cheer Natasha up.

"Yeah maybe it can be a blessing," Natasha says. she grabs your hand, holding it, while looking in your eyes. It makes you smile, but she doesn't make you feel giddy like she used to when you'd interact with her. Instead all you feel is guilt and love, but not for her, but for her sister you realize.

You try to keep a brave face on the whole time, trying not to break down and spill the truth, but you're too far in now and you know it.

As time passes by the rest of the Romanoff family filters into the room. It's nice being surrounded by all of them, it brings you a sense of comfort, even if it is all based on lies.

"So what are you going to do about the engagement?" Yelena asks out of nowhere. "What?" she asks after noticing the stares she's getting. "I know we were all thinking it."

"I don't know," Natasha says. "Maybe we can start over?" she suggests.

"I'd like that Nat."

"Hi, I'm Natasha," she says, holding out her hand.

"I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too," you say shaking her extended hand.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," the doctor says, slipping into the room. "But Natasha, you can go home tonight. All for your tests cam back clear, except for the amnesia, but that should go away on it's own."

"Oh my god this is great news honey," Melina says. Everyone starts to celebrate and the excitement starts to wear off on you too.

"Wait where am I going to stay?" Natasha asks.

"You've got an apartment sweetie," Alexei says. "But if you don't want to be alone one of us can stay with you."

"Can y/n stay with me?" Natasha asks shyly, it's the complete opposite of the way you hear her talk in the subway.

"I can stay if you want."

"I do," she says.

"Ok that's settled then," Melina says.

After another hour Natasha is checked out and packed up and the two of you and Wanda who you need to drop off, are sitting in her stingray, you driving.

"Do you really not remember the last year Nat?" Wanda asks.

"No, I don't think so. I remember proposing to Maria, being rejected and then nothing. But clearly something happened from now to then and pretty quickly because I've got y/n and a pretty ring on my finger." You don't say anything, feeling too guilty.

Soon you're pulling into the parking garage of Natasha's building, letting Wanda out so she can walk to her car.

"Bye Nat, by y/n," she says.

"Bye Wanda," you say softly. You're sad to be watching her leave. You wish you were going with her, but you're here with Natasha.

You help Natasha into her house, making sure she's comfortable in bed, before you go to leave, but Natasha drags you back down.

"Don't go, please," she begs.

"Okay," you say, giving in easily. You climb into bed beside her, allowing her to cuddle into your side.

"Goodnight Nat."

"Goodnight y/n."

Over the course of the next few days, you spend all of your time with either Natasha or her family. The two of you spend your days getting closer and closer.

You try to ignore the nagging in the back of your head, your feelings for Wanda, the way your heart feels with the Romanoff family, but it gets harder everyday. You don't want to lose the Romanoff family and their love.

"I'm going to the store," you tell Natasha, just needing to get away and be with your own thoughts.

"Okay, hurry back baby." She leaves a soft kiss on your lips before you walk out the door. The affection brings your guilt rearing back up, urging you to tell the truth.

The trip to the store does wonders for you, and by the time you get back to Natasha's apartment, you decide that you're going to tell her the truth. Except when you get there, there's Natasha, sitting at her dining room table. A white cloth covers the table and rose petals lead from the door to your chair.

Natasha stands up and walks over to you, grabbing your hands and leading you to the table.

"Y/n, I know I barely remember you," she says as she sinks down to one knee. She pulls out a ring box, making you gasp. "But I know that I love you. I know that you mean everything to me and I don't want to lose you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," you say, completely forgetting about your plans on telling the truth. You get caught up in the excitement.

"I want to marry you as soon as possible," Natasha says as she slips the ring on your finger.

"Okay whatever you want," you say, too happy to truly acknowledge her words right now, to truly soak in what she's saying.

"How about tomorrow? The courthouse?"

"That sounds perfect," you say, but on the inside you can think of a million reasons on why you should put a stop to this, but you don't because of your own guilty conscious.

That night Natasha makes all of the arrangements. She calls her family and some caterers for a small reception at her parents house. Pretty soon everything is in place, the only thing that's left is for the two of you to walk down the aisle tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly and everything is a blur. Before you know it you're in the courtroom bathroom, Wanda putting the final touches on your makeup.

"Can you give me a reason not to marry her Wanda, anything at all?" you beg, breaking the heavy silence that had been between you two. Wanda looks away from you, saying nothing, bringing tears to your eyes. "Okay," you say before you brush past her. Your long, white dress, that you borrowed from Natasha's closet, scrapes against her side but you ignore it. You walk out of the room, ignoring Wanda and ignoring your now broken heart.

You quickly dry your eyes and meet Natasha outside the bathroom, the two of you walking hand in hand to the courtroom.

Her family, including Wanda, gather around the two of you. A few of Natasha's friends, who you had met throughout the past few weeks, are also there, you notice. There's about 15 people crowding around you. This is never how you thought this day would go, but you can't complain.

"Do you Natasha Romanoff take y/n y/l/n to be your wife?" the judge asks.

Before Natasha can answer the door to the room bursts open and an angry looking woman storms inside.

"Stop the wedding," she screams out.

"What?" you can hear people around you scream in confusion.

"What is this?" Natasha asks.

"This is me stopping your wedding. You're engaged to me Nat, remember me," the woman pleads.

"I remember. You came back to me, you said yes," you hear Natasha say after moments of silence. It looks like seeing Maria brought her memories back.

Suddenly the room erupts into chaos and you use it as your chance to escape, too ashamed to admit the truth to the Romanoff family.

The next couple of days you spend in solitude, ignoring anyone who knocks on your door. You hide out in your apartment, surviving off of delivery food, until you finally have to go back to work.

The walk to work is miserable. You have nothing to look forward to and to top everything off you've practically ruined your own life with your lies, but it's what you deserve. At least you think so.

You enter the subway station and slip into your booth, shrugging on your bright blue vest. You spend the day on autopilot, taking tokens and giving tickets, barely acknowledging the people you're helping.

A woman steps up to your booth and she drops her token into the token slot, but when you go to grab it, you realize it's not a token at all. It's an engagement ring. You look up and you see Wanda and her family, minus Natasha, the people you thought you would never see again. They're all smiling at you, looking at you with so much hope in their eyes. Wanda walks around to the entrance to your booth and you let her in. She drops down to one knee before she begins to speak.

"Y/n, over the past couple of weeks, I have gotten to know you, we have gotten to know you," Wanda says, gesturing to her family outside the booth. "And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I can't live without you. The past couple of days without you have been torture and I don't want to be without you anymore. I love you and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. Will you marry me?"

Outside the booth you hear Melina and Alexei arguing about whether or not you'll say yes, while Yelena is chanting "say yes" over and over again. They bring a smile to your face. You don't want to live without them, and you certainly don't want to live without Wanda.

"Yes I'll marry you," you say, giddiness lacing your voice. Wanda stands up and kisses you, her hands cupping your face and it's the most perfect kiss you've ever had. It's full of passion and love. It's everything you ever thought it would be.

"I love you Wanda."

"I love you too y/n."

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, violence, angst

A/N: I have very little knowledge of the NYC subway system, or the NYC landscape, really (I've only been there once). Just use your imagination lol it's fiction!

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You sat perched on a couch in the living room while Joel tended to the body in the kitchen, but only after he confirmed you were alone. You felt numb, like there was an aching hole in your chest about to destroy you. Staring at the ground with your jaw slack, you rocked back and forth with your knees pressed to your chest, reliving the murder you just committed. His blood was warm and sticky over your face and chest as you drove the heavy statue into his skull repeatedly, brain matter spattering out on the floor. You remembered slipping in the blood when you had to shift your weight and get better leverage. You remembered the helpless moans and gurgles the man made in the beginning, before the fourth or fifth strike put an end to him. But you had kept going, kept crushing his face until he was unrecognizable. You had no idea you could do something so savage, so brutally unhinged, and you were terrified. The only other time you could recall feeling that type of rage was in Joel’s office a week ago. But even then, you were just mad. This was different. This was violent and sick. You felt your stomach churn and you glanced around frantically under the light of a lantern to find a receptacle. You spotted a garbage can under a desk at the side of the room, and you made it just in time, kneeling on the floor and heaving into the basket.

Hearing the noises from the kitchen, Joel reappeared in the living room, quickly wiping his hands of blood before you saw. Once you had stopped and leaned back, Joel took a few tentative steps forward. “You alright?” he asked, fully aware how ridiculous the question was, but he didn’t know what else to say.

All you could do was shake your head, then you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the next wave of tears. Joel picked up your canteen from the side of the couch and brought it over. You took a small sip before screwing the lid back on. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I’m going to jail,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “What am I going to do, Joel?”

He shook his head, sitting down on the floor next to you. “You ain’t goin’ to jail. I don’t think that’s the world we live in anymore.” He finally got a good look at you for the first time. You were covered in blood, your clothes were ruined, your face only clean where your tears washed away the carnage. He stood up and headed back to the pantry, which now was home to two dead bodies shoved against the far wall under a sheet. He reached down to the packs of unopened water bottles and grabbed as many as he could carry. Joel stood up and was about to exit when he remembered the gun. He put the water bottles on the kitchen island and dug the gun out from under the groceries on the floor. He opened the chamber and confirmed it was fully loaded before tucking it into the back of his pants.

He returned to you with the bottles of water in his arms. "Why don't you go wash up and change your clothes? I got some water here, and I'll get you some towels, then you should really try to get some sleep."

You didn't feel like moving, but Joel was right. Smelling the coppery blood and feeling how tight it made your skin as it dried was a sensory nightmare. You stood up wordlessly and headed back towards his bedroom, while Joel followed behind you with the water. You walked into the bathroom and stood in the middle of the huge room you once envied, but now you were struggling to feel anything at all. Joel brought the lanterns in for you and opened the shower door, setting the water bottles down on a bench. He turned around and opened the linen closet, pulling out a few towels, wash cloths and a basin. He set all the supplies on the counter and faced you, still standing and staring.

"Do you," he cleared his throat, "do you need help, or...?" He trailed off, unsure what to do for you. He just hoped getting clean and some sleep will help.

You shook your head, but before he left you asked quietly, "Can you bring my pack in here? My clothes-"

"Right, 'course, yeah, hold on," he hurried out to the bedroom and brought your pack to you. "Holler if you need anythin'." And he shut the door behind him.

You sighed, dragging your weakened form over to the basin, grabbing it along with the washcloths and putting them alongside the water in the walk-in shower. You peeled your shirt off, soaked in so much blood that it made a wet noise as it lifted from your skin. You weren't sure where to put your clothes, so you balled them up and put them in one of the two sinks. You stepped into the shower and filled the basin with a few bottles of water, deciding to dip your hair in first to scrub the dried blood out. You reached up and grabbed Joel's shampoo that smelled clean and fresh, like oranges. The scent lifted your spirits a small fraction until you moved one of the lanterns over to the basin of dirty water and saw just how red it was. You felt your stomach roll again, but this time you held it together and moved the light away, dumping the water down the drain and refilled it to rinse your hair.

You completed this process as you made your way down, scrubbing your face and ears until you felt raw, then your arms, chest and hands. Your lower half wasn't in bad shape, but your fingernails were the worst part. You did your best, but there was still a little bit of blood stuck under them when you had finished.

You wrapped your hair up in one of the big towels Joel gave you and wrapped the other around your body. You stood there for a few moments, staring at yourself in the mirror under the light of the lanterns, feeling numb and tired. You didn't think you would be able to sleep earlier, but it turned out your body was exhausted. You felt weak as you picked some clothes out of your pack and pulled them on, quickly drying your hair and hanging the towels up before opening the bathroom door.

Joel was waiting at attention on the other side of the door the entire time you cleaned up, in case you needed something. He stood when you opened the door, pleased to see you had scrubbed all the blood off and looked more like yourself, but when his eyes met yours, he didn't see the light in them anymore. His chest tightened, hating himself for putting you through this. You stood before him, unsure of yourself, glancing around the room.

"Let's sleep in the living room, would that make you feel better?" he asked you. You nodded, and he grabbed the pillows and blankets off the bed before heading down the hall back to the couches. He made a makeshift bed on a couch for each of you, and you eagerly buried yourself under the blanket, your eyelids getting heavy. Before you fell asleep, you remembered your clothes in the bathroom.

"Joel?" you whispered, your voice crackling from disuse. He immediately sat up from the couch across from you.

"What d'you need?" he asked.

"My clothes, they're in your sink, I wasn't sure what to do with them."

"Oh, right, I'll get rid of 'em, you go to sleep I'll be right back."

You didn't have to be told twice, sliding your eyes shut as a restless sleep overtook you. Joel got a trash bag and a few more bottles of water from the pantry. He got to work bagging up the empty bottles of water and your bloodied clothes, then did his best to wash the shower and sink of any remaining blood so you didn't have to see it in the morning. When he returned, after throwing the bag of garbage in the pantry with the dead bodies, you were fast asleep.

He laid on his couch, berating himself over and over for letting this happen. Had he not been so goddamn distracted with thoughts of fucking you, he would have heard the intruders and maybe got the jump on them before you even woke up. Or maybe his distracted thoughts keeping him awake was what saved you both. He would never know, but what he did know was you were put in that position because he wasn't careful. He should have been quieter, he should have grabbed the gun, he should have expected a second intruder. When he inspected the apartment after he calmed you down, he saw they had jimmied open the lock on his door. He had no idea how they did it so quietly. Maybe had he gone right to bed, he wouldn't have heard anything, and you would both be dead.

He rubbed his hands up and down his face roughly, agitated, feeling helpless and riddled with guilt. These feelings for you had to stop. Tonight was a close call, and he wasn't going to risk anything happening again. His sole focus had to be just on your safety and survival going forward.

He shut his eyes, desperately trying to get a few hours of sleep before another long day tomorrow.

Both of you woke up a little later than you had intended, but given the events from last night, Joel figured you both could have used the sleep. You still weren't saying much, but your face looked like it had a little bit more color to it, and he hoped that meant you were coming around. Joel grabbed another armful of water bottles from the pantry, the smell of the bodies beginning to fester in the closed room, and used them to refill your canteens and wash up once more before your long journey. He unpacked the clothes he had stolen from your neighbors and repacked clothes that he picked out of his closet, in the process also grabbing a few smaller t-shirts that didn't quite fit him anymore to offer to you, since you had to get rid of one of your own. When he walked back into his living room, he saw you leaning over and examining some framed photos on a sofa table against the wall, running your finger over the frames and faces in the photos.

Joel cleared his throat to announce his presence, and you jumped back guiltily, spinning around to face him.

"Those are all old pictures, like I said before, I'm terrible at changing 'em out," Joel said, trying to draw you out more. You gave him a weak smile.

"You and Tommy looked so young in some of these."

He smiled, pleased that you were warming up a bit, and walked over to look at the pictures. He frowned slightly when he saw the same picture from the rodeo that he had hanging in his office, completely forgetting he still had it out. But you pointed to an older portrait instead.

"Are these your parents?"

Joel nodded and picked the picture up to look at it more closely. It was his parents on their wedding day. The picture was faded but he could still see the warmth and happiness in their eyes.

"They passed some years ago," he said, placing the picture down gently, "heart attack and lung cancer. Within a year of each other," Joel said softly.

You hummed apologetically, your eyes glancing over the rest of the frames before landing on the one at the rodeo. You opened your mouth to ask but remembered what Colleen had mentioned about an ex-fiancée, so you stopped yourself, but Joel saw where your gaze landed. He picked up the picture and looked at it wistfully.

"That was a fun night, rodeo up in Dallas. Tommy got so drunk we had to keep him from goin' down in the ring and jumpin' on one of those bulls himself," Joel chuckled.

You smiled, and still avoided bringing up the third person in the picture, but he answered the question for you anyway.

"That's Amy," he began, smile faded from his face, "we, uh, we were engaged. Didn't work out. Caught her cheatin' on me." He placed the picture back on the table.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, genuinely apologetic for feeling like he had to share that with you. He shook his head and turned back to the kitchen.

"Let me get you somethin' to eat before we head out, I'll bring out different things to pick from," he said.

Joel headed towards the kitchen, not realizing you were on his heels. He did his best to clean up the blood from the night before, but it was dark, and his resources were limited. There were still some stains in the grout of the tile and on the oak cabinet. You balked when you entered the room, somehow momentarily forgetting you killed a person less than 12 hours ago.

"I'm sorry, I did the best I could. Go back in the living room, I'll bring you somethin' to eat." Joel said, turning you away by the shoulders and giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction.

"Don't be sorry, Joel. You saved us last night," you said over your shoulder.

He paused, not sure how to approach the topic with you for the first time, worried he would upset you further.

"No, you saved us, and you shouldn't've had to do that," he said firmly.

You turned back around to face him, this time unphased by the blood stains he had tried to hide, looked him right in the eye.

"Us or them, remember?"

The two of you stared at each other for a minute, something shifting. There was a mutual understanding before, but now it had been solidified with your actions. It was one thing to say the words, but another to follow through. You had both killed somebody yesterday in order to save the other.

You each ate handfuls of trail mix, peanut butter crackers, and dry cereal before Joel restocked your packs with whatever food could fit, making sure to jam in a couple cans of Beefaroni in his own pack. Before hitting the road, he went to the spare closet where he kept his gun safe. You hadn't noticed it in the dark when you arrived the night before. He unlocked the safe, and pulled out a rifle, a shotgun, and a small handgun, the latter of which he handed to you. You offered to hold one of the long guns as well, not wanting Joel to be burdened, and he reluctantly agreed, handing you the rifle. When he leaned forward into the safe you saw he already had a revolver tucked into the back of his pants. You almost asked him about it but figured it out on your own: the men you killed must have been armed.

"I didn't realize you were a hunter," you said, shouldering the rifle on your back.

"I'm not. Well, not really. Some of the clients Tommy signed tended to be more the "outdoorsy" type, so we would take 'em on hunting trips or shoot skeet," Joel explained, pulling the shotgun over his shoulder before adding, "Didn't bother me much, I'd rather shoot than play golf."

Joel didn't have much ammo, but he packed whatever he had into both of your packs, which were now filled to the brim. Grateful he was able to trade out his borrowed sneakers for his own boots, he laced them up as you slid your hiking boots back on and headed out towards the stairwell on your journey.

The pair of you made your way back down into the subway without any issue, feeling a bit more confident now that you were armed. You stopped for just a few minutes to check in with Josie and Peter's group. They were happy to see you had made it. Neither of you mentioned the events that took place the night before, both eager to put it behind you.

It took you a few hours to walk all the way to the end of the subway, as far as it would take you this time so that when you emerged, you wouldn't be on the streets for too long. You didn't speak much, and Joel was becoming a little worried, but he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to fix it. He just kept trying to pull you out of your thoughts, asking you a question here or there, but your replies were quiet and short.

You decided to take a break before emerging from the tunnel and sat to eat on the last platform. You kept your eyes glued to the grimy subway tile floor as you munched slowly on a protein bar and some dried fruit. Joel sat next to you watching your unwavering gaze and mechanical movements while you ate, and he couldn't take it anymore. He dusted his hands on the side of his pants and sighed, getting your attention briefly before you returned to your food.

"I think we should talk about it," Joel said, and you paused your chewing, considering a response before ultimately deciding to ignore him.

"Listen," he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat this for you. Once we get out there, it's only gonna get worse. I can't promise somethin' like that won't happen again, but I'll do my best to keep you safe and get you to your parents."

You weren't sure why that angered you so much. It was probably all the pent-up emotions from the past several hours that boiled over, but you didn't care, so you shot your eyes up to glare at him.

"You think I don't know it's going to be worse, Joel? I'm not stupid," you snapped, furrowing your brow. "It doesn't mean I'm going to be okay with killing people."

"And you think I'm feelin' good about it?" he shouted, making you jump. "This ain't exactly what I had in mind a week ago."

He stood, his jaw clenched and his hands combing roughly through his hair as he paced around the platform. You stood up now, too. You realized the anger coursing through you had replaced the sadness, and in an effort to keep it at bay, chose to keep spurring Joel on.

"Don't put words in my mouth, that's not what I said!" you yelled back at him, finally feeling a spark breaking through the numbness inside, like ice being cracked. "No one appointed you to be my guardian, I can take care of myself. You think I don't know you're just helping me because you feel bad? I don't need your fucking pity, Joel, I can do this myself!"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your hands began to shake, but most importantly the numbness inside was breaking up. Your face felt hot with anger, and you trained your gaze onto his when he whipped around to glare at you as you continued to shout.

"You have no obligation to me; we hardly even know each other!" Your breathing was picking up and you watched him flinch at your words, then his eyes flashed with fury, and he scowled at you.

"Oh, I think we know each other a little better than that," he shot back heatedly, nostrils flared. You gasped in shock, glaring at him, trying to come up with a good response to his vague reference to your kiss a week ago. You didn't think he would ever bring it up again.

He looked at you smugly now, crossing his arms over his chest. He was still pissed, but he was pleased to see you were at a loss for words. He was about to put an end to the argument and suggest you get moving when you charged right up to him and gave him a hard shove against his shoulders, making him stumble backwards.

"What the fuck?!" Joel uttered in surprise, swinging his arms out to his sides to regain his balance. You ignored him and shoved him again, this time only causing him to stumble back a little bit. He was about to reach out and grab your arms to stop you when it dawned on him. You needed this. You needed to yell and scream and push. He could see in your eyes that you were less distant, even though they were still filled with anger, you were looking more like yourself again. So, when you leaned forward to shove him a third time, he let you, standing strong and tall with his arms resting at his sides as you shoved him again and again. He would stumble back a little each time, but he kept his gaze pinned on your eyes, watching how they would soften and clear with each push to his chest.

You finally grew tired of shoving him, so you stood there, trying to catch your breath. You could feel your body again, the numbness that overtook your body last night finally was floating away, like taking your anger out on Joel was what made it crack and melt, like thick ice over a pond on the first warm day of sprng. You tilted your head back and sighed, wondering why Joel was the only person who managed to bring out this side of you. Last week in his office, you told him off without shedding a tear. That was so unlike you, you had never acted like that before. Then last night you had killed somebody to save him, and not just killed him but savagely and relentlessly bashed his skull in. And now today, he figured out how to draw you out and heal you. He was safe, he made you feel safe.

You brought your head forward to look at him, seeing the heat and intensity behind his eyes. He didn’t look mad anymore, but he regarded you questioningly, desperately trying to see underneath the veil, imploring you to take what you needed from him so you would be yourself again.

You felt this inexplicable surge of warmth and desire, your gaze darkened, and you licked your lips. You didn't know why, but you felt like he would do anything for you at that moment, so long as it made you forget the horrors you went through. You took one step forward hesitantly, keeping your eyes locked on his, and you reached out to run your hand up and down his arm, feeling his muscles jump under your gentle touch. 

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you murmured, taking another small step forward. “I didn’t mean any of that, I’m sorry.”

He gulped and let his gaze flick down to your hand rubbing his arm. When you stepped forward, he saw the look in your eyes, and his breath hitched. What were you doing? He shook his head and stepped back.

"It’s alright. We should get a move on, we gotta find somewhere safe for the night," he said, clearing his throat.

“Why don’t we just stay here?” you asked.

It was an innocent enough question, but the way you said it and the way you were looking at him said otherwise. He was struggling to keep up with your mood swings. "We got a lotta ground to cover, and there’s still daylight left, we shouldn’t waste it.”

He told himself his feelings for you were done, and he meant it. He had to focus, he had to keep you both safe. You clearly were still processing all your emotions and he couldn’t trust anything you were implying. So, he stepped away from your touch and headed for the stairs that led up to the street. You halfheartedly followed behind him, feeling more like yourself again, but also feeling something different, like this world was beginning to change you. You weren’t sure if it was for better or worse, but you knew you had at least come around to adapting to your environment. You killed somebody to save Joel’s life. You rose to the occasion, and you did what you had to do, and you didn't hesitate. You no longer felt like you were useless, and as fucked up as that sounded, it made you feel good.

You spent the rest of the afternoon trapsing through fields and forests on the outskirts of the city, trying to stay out of sight and quiet, taking very few breaks. Joel wanted to cover as much ground as possible and get far away from the city. You were still reeling from your argument, or whatever it was, in the subway. You weren’t sure what would have happened if he had leaned into your advances, but as more time passed, you knew it was for the best that he rebuffed you. You couldn’t remember if you were about to get your period, or maybe this was a normal reaction to murdering someone, but your emotions were all over the place. The longer you walked, the more at peace you felt with what happened. Joel was right – things were not going to get better, you had to toughen up, or else.

The sun was getting low, and Joel still hadn’t found a good place to set up camp. You kept walking as the evening turned to dusk, your eyes squinting in the small forest when Joel let out a frustrated groan. You looked up at him curiously.

“This is a good spot, there’s a stream nearby and it’s quiet but there’s not enough coverage. I don’t like how thin these trees are,” he explained, motioning to the young, skinny oak trees surrounding you. You sighed and sat down against one of the trees to take a break, opening your canteen as Joel remained standing and looking around as he considered building up some fallen tree limbs into a makeshift shelter.

You tipped your head back to drink, and that’s when you saw it: a treehouse, at least 40 feet above the ground, right above you. You stopped drinking and stood quickly to grab Joel’s arm, pointing up towards the top of the tree. He chuckled when he saw it, a smile spilling across his face.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” he said, turning to look at you happily.

You smiled at him, then looked back up at the treehouse above you. It wasn’t very big, but it was enough for the two of you and it had a roof. It was better than the alternative.

You went around the other side of the trunk where the ladder had been nailed into the wood and climbed up. Once you got to the top, Joel did a full sweep of the area surrounding you, confirming that no infected or people were nearby. He could see the stream from about 20 yards away. He couldn’t contain his smile again; this was perfect.

The contactor in him reviewed the construction of the treehouse to make sure that it would be sturdy enough to sustain two adults. He walked around to each corner, hunched over because the roof was maybe 5 feet from the floor, and gave the walls a firm shake to test their strength. There were three small windows sawed into each wall, the door being on the last wall, which meant Joel had a full view of your surroundings. The windows and door did not have any coverings, so it would be cold, but the waterproof sleeping bags you had should be able to keep you warm. He turned back to you, satisfied you'd be safe for the night.

"I think this used to be a hunting stand, then some kids turned it into a treehouse. See how the wood looks older in this part, and some of the roof is made from different material?" he said, pointing around to the spots in the shelter. "They added the walls themselves, matches the rest of the wood on the floor," he mused out loud. You had stopped rolling out your bag to listen to him and found it kind of amusing he was discussing construction with you after the last few days you've had, as if the world wasn't ending and it was just another day.

"Do you think we'll be safe here?" you asked, sliding your boots off and setting them next to your bed. Joel unrolled his bag on the other side of the treehouse, the side closest to the door. Without looking up at you, he nodded.

"As safe as we can get, yeah."

You couldn't shake the guilt for the way you treated him earlier. What you said was exactly right: he had no obligation to you, but he stayed by your side anyway, and saved you a handful of times. You had already apologized, but the way you went about it didn't come across as sincere. You had nearly thrown yourself at him, completely confusing you both, so you wanted to try again.

"Hey, listen, about earlier," you began, making him pause from rooting around in his pack, but still didn't look up at you. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I think I was still in shock; I don't know what came over me." You took a moment to let your words settle before continuing. "I'm really grateful for everything you're doing, I would already be dead if it wasn't for you." You held your breath, hoping you came across as genuine as you felt.

Joel tried to hide his disappointment. It was hard to hear you didn't mean any of it. He knew you didn't mean what you said, but he couldn't help but wish you had meant the way you looked at him in the subway, with a heat behind your gaze he never expected to see again after the way he treated you. But maybe that was what he needed to hear so it would help put a stop to the overwhelming feelings he was struggling to contain on his own.

He brought his gaze up to finally meet yours, trying to hide the sadness as he gave you a warm smile.

"I know, you don't got to apologize, it's alright," he said quietly.

You looked at his face closely. You didn't fully believe it, you could tell something still bothered him, but you chose to let it go.

After you had settled in for the night, each of you tucked into your sleeping bags, you whispered out into the darkness.

"Us or them, right?"

You thought maybe he had already fallen asleep since you were met with silence, until you heard his voice, thick with emotion, reply.

"Us or them."

Chapter Ten

Taglist: @chiogarza

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Ok but fellas… Imagine;

‘Host Parents‘ Wandanat x ‘Exchange Student’ Reader

(Picture not mine i found it on pinterest, kudos to whoever edit this Wandanat pic)

Imagine reader is an exchange student from a tropical country. Maybe somewhere around southeast asia. They moved to New York for study and was very lucky to be put with a wonderful host parents.

Wanda and Natasha treats reader as their own child. Teaching them the subway in NYC, helping them adapt to their new life, etc.

Then nearing winter time, they were just chilling together in the living room. Suddenly, reader let out a loud gasp and ran to the backyard. Natasha and Wanda was confused, like, wtf happened?

Then they followed reader to the backyard. Reader was looking up the sky with a huge smile on their face, their hand open wide to catch the falling snow. They look at Natasha and Wanda and excitedly said,

"Guys, It's snowing! Look, LOOK-"

They couldn’t help but to let out a soft laugh seeing how excited reader is. They weren’t usually big in holidays, sure they celebrate it but more casual and simple. But this time they went all out.

Christmas stocking, huge ass tree, full on decoration, the whole shebang.

ADORRBS

[gen15gg]

okay SO! these r a bunch of creloise fic ideas i came up w on the train ride home from uni bc am i not jus a girl who overthinks? w all the time in the world?? on a train???

so fair warning this is a LOT, but at least ik the old man sittin next to me was fairly entertained so u win some u lose some i suppose lmao 😭

- i def wanna see more 2000s or 90s AUs cuz duhhh i would love a little line ab them havin specific ringtones for each otha on their silly little flip phones (id cry if i saw this)

- OR OR OR clubbing scenes, meeting on the UNDERGROUND OMG!!!

(the trains that go under ldn for the americans idk if u lot kno what it is sorry, it’s like NYC subway??😭)

.. anyways cressida could always notice eloise reading something and tries to talk to her by either reading the same book or one journey jus offering the book “emma” (LIKE IN THE SHOW GUYS?!?) as a good read before she gets off on her stop OMDS and/or eloise always noticing cressida’s fashionable-ness for a fùckin 9-5 (yes cressida would be giving office siren absolutely) and maybe if the tables are turned, cressida is reading and eloise notices this and suddenly sparks up conversation bc she simply cannot shut her mouth (and replaying all the times she’s seen cressida in new outfits like the montage scene of anne hathaway in the devil wears prada LMFAO) n every tube journey they encounter each otha on, they go back n forth on their opinions on which eva book they’re reading atm OMGGGG n maybe on valentines one of them gives the otha a rose or a book before they get off SOMEONE RESTRAIN ME MY BRAIN IS WORKING OVERTIME 😭

- would also love to see more modern AUs in general like yes i loooove seein this pairing in different time periods, adapting to the ideas and limitations of that era MWAH to everyone who has been writing these i love you - let me kiss u on yo fùckin cranium MWAH !

- imagine a 1920s jazz girls creloise like idk who would be a jazz singer (maybe cressida??), havin them be in ‘flapper girl’ attire.. IDK id jus love to imagine them in that environment perhaps smoking from those thingies that held the cig itself

- not to stress this too much (i am) but i wanna see them as a 90s or def a 2000s famous pairing!! like both are singers!! i mean cmon cressida would hav an unbelievable stage presence w her amazing outfits we’ve seen in the show itself and eloise would be more punk-ish i suppose!!

or eloise remains a singer and cressida is a model?! but in both situations it’s like they despiseeee each otha or at least eloise does of cressida bc of her overall appearance and the message her looks send (i.e. similar to bridgerton era blah blah expectations etc)

but then they hav to date as a publicity stunt to push down rumours that they hate each otha or maybeeeee penelope is a news outlet they’re trying to get the jump on by going ‘noooo we don’t hate each otha we’re actually dating!’ (they do hate each otha but they fall in love obvs)

or penelope is one of their publicists and has set this up??.. or they’re forced to write a song together IDK this can go any which way but i was inspired by the song “maybe” by emma bunton as a song cressida would DEFINITELY sing OR “let me see” by Morcheeba

man idk Cressida jus gives me the vibe that in this AU she could be equivalent to kylie minogue or a brit pop icon of sorts regardless or Kate Moss if u went w the cressida as a model version AND MAYBE ELOISE AS A PHOTOGRAPHER??? IDK!!!!

- also NEED NEED. NEEEEED. a MR n MRS SMITH AU OF THEM!!!! like omdssss

(im referencing the original film w angelina jolie but go wild if one were to write this, which most like won’t happen but oh well 😭)

but omds the tension that would be between them both !!!! like eloise fits the playful goofy but intelligent character of mr smith, whilst i can most definitely see cressida in the role of mrs smith! trying her utmost best to keep things calculated and goin according to plan but (as u kno if you’ve watched the film) eloise will ruin this calculated streak she’s got 😭 OMDSSSS i can jus imagine their banter as they fight

- uhhh fuck me a surfer AU??? why not atp i’d love to see it where either teaches the otha to surf?? or it’s one where eloise is the one travelling around instead of colin (lmao #white girl goin on holiday to find herself) or w him as this would be a modern AU n she meets cressida somewhere in the mediterranean (bc cressida was sent away by her father) n yk sparks and whatnot ensue 🤭

or omds a rendition of that mermaid movie ‘aquamarine’ ??

- YES OMG A MERMAID AU GODDAMN WAITTTTT ELOISE ESCAPING PATRIARCHAL EXPECTATIONS BY PRETENTDING TO BE A PIRATE AND FALLING IN LOVE W MERMAID CRESSIDA OR THEYRE BOTH PIRATES??? LIKE ANNE BONNY AND MARY READ!!!

- jus had the biggest brain moment on this train ride me thinks… flowershop AU..

specifically an ‘imagine me & you’ AU. cressida had married some man ?? could be Debling to get her parents off her back but then falls in love at first sight of eloise the florist as she walks down the aisle to get married

omg i’m literally jus askin for creloise as ‘imagine me & you’ bc why not i think it’s adorable 😭

ANYWAYS!!! that’s ova but if anyone has any more ideas i’d love to hear them bc i hav serious brain rot from this pairing who will prolly not get togetha </3

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! So I've been looking at some writing prompts in hopes of finally overcoming my current writer's block, and some of the ones that looked interesting to me start with something like "character a and b get separated and x thing happens". The problem is, no one ever specifies WHY or HOW characters A and B got separated, and I'm having a lot of trouble coming up with reasons on my own. I also haven't been able to find any "reasons why characters would get split up" lists anywhere and I'm kinda stumped. Do you have any tips to help?

Struggling with Writing Prompts

Well, writing prompts are meant to be somewhat vague. The point is to plant seeds that will grow in your own unique imagination.

It sounds like you need a refresher on how to brainstorm ideas like these. So, let's start there. ♥

The key with brainstorming is to dial everything back and break it down to its simplest point... "Character A and B got separated" is pretty broad and vague. How can we dial that back and break it down?

First, before we can figure out where they are and why, we have to figure out who they are. Who do you want A and B to be? Romantic partners? Love interests? Parent and child? Siblings? Best friends? Co-workers? Classmates? Teacher and student? Captor and captive? Prisoner and guard? Guide and client? There are lots of possibilities. Let's say you go with best friends. Flesh that out... are they adult best friends? Teen best friends? Child best friends? How old? What gender? Let's say they're a fifteen year old girl and and sixteen-year-old enby.

Next... we know they must be someplace together because they get separated. So, where are they? Where might a fifteen and sixteen year old pair of besties be, and what might they be doing? Are they at school packing up ahead of an early dismissal due to a freak snowstorm? Are they shopping in Times Square on a field trip to NYC? Are they walking home from school through a vacant lot? Are they hiking through the woods at summer camp? Let's say they're shopping in Times Square.

Now, we can look at how they got separated. Did they part ways voluntarily, each going into a different store and not finding each other again? Did one ditch the other for some reason? Was one taken by someone? Did one fall through a portal into another time? Did one vanish because they were called back to the fey realm they unknowingly came from? Was one arrested? Did one inadvertently get on the wrong subway?

Again, there are lots of possibilities. The point is to brainstorm them all, pick the combination that sounds fun, and let your imagination run wild! :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[artralichoard]

Pockets of Time au

Ok so this au is inspired by the idea/theory thats like "once time travel has been invented, it has always existed." Its kinda parodoxy but I love it because that means fun things with Mikey! This au is also in thanks to my coworkers old roomate lol. i was just working on a different silly turtle au when my coworker was just like "did i ever tell you about my time traveler roomate?" and immidiately i knew I had to hear this, and goddammit was it so fucking cool and all I could think about is time traveler Mikey.

So the basic premis is that because Mikey's future self "created"/"invented"/did time travel, Mikey has always been a time traveler. And because of this has always experienced these strange "pockets of time" as he calls them.

These pockets of time are little moments that Mikey experiences through out his life. moments from the past, futures to come and futures to never come.

the first one he experienced was when Mikey was younger, around 9/10, him and leo were skating around the tunnels of the sewer, when they come across an abandoned subway station. they explore a little, when all of a sudden, Mikey walks into a section, and is met with a room filled with lights, and paintings. its got their projector and splinters chair. Mikey is confused how this all got here, wondering if its a prank leo is pulling. then leo calls for him, pulling Mikey's attention from the room, and when he turns back the room turned to the expected dark and dusty room. Mikey doesn't think much of it, until they are settled into their knew lair after Shredder and Mikey realizes he saw this.

the next instance is later, he is 13 and he's at a convention with his bros. he's looking at some JJ merch, and when he looks up to show off something to donnie, he finds the whole convention center empty. its completely abandoned. when he moves to a window, he finds the whole of NYC under some kind of martial law. theres a wall around the city, and what looks to be androids patrolling the street, and they have the foot symbol on them. He's pulled from the dystopian world by someone complimenting his turtle alien costume. the person is the only one in the building, Mikey doesn't even know how he got there. Mikey looks down at himself, telling the guy thanks with some half-assed lie on making it, and when he looks up the building is back to normal. The guy is still there, but so is everyone else. the place packed again, and his bros back at the table he left them. the guy walks away after and all Mikey can think is how something felt seriously off with that guy. he definitely was not yokai or anything, he seemed human but....

another instance is when he is 15 (pre-movie) and Mikey goes to follow his bros into Run of the Mill, but instead of seeing the familiar restaurant behind the portal, the laundromat that the restaraunt portal is attached to. but everything look new and clean, theres a few human there doing their laundry, and they were dressed weirdly, like from splinters older movies he's shown them. They don't pay any mind to Mikey so he politely excuses himself, going back into the alley way. When he tries again, he's met with tables, and servers and his bros calling him, asking what held him up out there. he didn't know how to answer that so he brushed it off with getting distracted by a possible mural spot.

It's not untill Jr comes back, and they learn HOW he got there that Mikey starts to think that these moments may have been more than just his imagination goiong into overdrive.

My coworker also mentioned how his roomate would be approached by others who could see into the future. So im just imagining Mikey, going to the HC for the first time and just attracting all these mystic users that work with time/fortunes/preminitions. and them just telling him things/asking him questions, and Mikey forgetting it ever happened, until their conversation comes to pass

Like someone from witch town approaches Mikey randomly and just hold his hands and says "the shaking will stop" and then walks away. and its not till after the Kraang and Mikey is looking down and his trembling hands that he finally remembers that interaction. And its the only thing that gives him hope that he'll be able to cook and do art again.

I have so much more on this au but this post is already so long. I have a 1 shot written and ideas on who the mysterious not-human Mikey sees in the convention is. So I'll probalby post more on this later.

[mariacallous]

On Wednesday, New York governor Kathy Hochul shocked the state and the country when she announced she would indefinitely shelve New York City’s long-in-development congestion pricing scheme. The policy, in the works since 2007 and set to begin in just three weeks, was designed to relieve car traffic, curb road deaths, and send a billion dollars in annual funding to the city’s transit system by charging drivers up to $15 a day to enter the busiest parts of Manhattan, with rates highest at “peak hours.” (Truck drivers and some bus drivers could have paid more than $36 daily.) At heart, the idea is straightforward, if controversial: Make people pay for the roads they use.

But congestion pricing was also set to become one of the most ambitious American climate projects, maybe ever. It was meant to coax people out of their gas-guzzling vehicles, which are alone responsible for some 22 percent of US greenhouse gas emissions, and onto subways, buses, bicycles, and their feet. Policymakers, researchers, and environment nerds the world over have concluded that, even if the transition to electric vehicles were to happen at lightning speed, avoiding the worst of climate change is going to require fewer cars overall.

Now, the movement has seen a serious setback, in a country where decades of car-centric planning decisions mean many can only imagine getting around in one very specific way. Just a few years ago, cities from Los Angeles to San Francisco to Chicago began to study what pricing roads might look like. “Cities were watching to see what would happen in New York,” says Sarah Kaufman, who directs the NYU Rudin Center for Transportation. “Now they can call it a ‘failure’ because it didn't go through.”

On Wednesday, Hochul said her about-face had to do with concerns about the city’s post-pandemic recovery. The congestion pricing plan faced lawsuits from New Jersey, where commuters argue they would face unfair financial burdens. Cameras and gantries, acquired and positioned to charge drivers while entering the zone, have already been installed in Manhattan, to the tune of some $500 million.

Kaufman, who says she was “flabbergasted” by Governor Hochul’s sudden announcement, says she is not sure where the policy goes from here. “If we can’t make courageous, and potentially less popular, moves in a city that has transit readily accessible, then I’m wondering where this can happen,” she says.

Other global cities have seen success with congestion schemes. London’s program, implemented in 2003, is still controversial among residents, but the government reports it has cut traffic in the targeted zone by a third. One 2020 study suggests the program has reduced pollutants, though exemptions for diesel buses have blunted its emissions effects. Stockholm’s program, launched in 2006, upped the city’s transit ridership, reduced the number of total miles locals traveled by car, and decreased emissions between 10 and 14 percent.

But in New York, the future of the program is unclear, and local politicians are currently scrambling to figure out how to cover the transit budget hole that would result from a last-minute nixing of the fee scheme. The city’s transit system is huge and sprawling: Five million people ride the Metropolitan Transportation Authority’s buses and subways, almost double the number that fly every day in the US.

In New York, drivers entering the zone below Manhattan’s 60th Street would have been charged peak pricing of $15, but would have only faced the charge once a day. They would have paid $3.75 for off-peak hours. Taxi and ride-hail trips in the zone would have seen extra fees. After years of controversy and public debate, the state had carved out some congestion charge exemptions: some vehicles carrying people with disabilities would not have been charged, lower-income residents of the zone would have received a tax credit for their tolls; and low-income drivers would have been eligible for a 50 percent discount.

[tawneybel]

Note: Ten favorite monsters, part seven. Part six. To be clear, do to past confusion, these are not lists of monsters I’d bang. Adult-content creator =/= turned-on 24/7.  ._.  Sometimes I just like to talk about character design and review media I like.

I pretty much like every kind of dragon, from friendly to terrifying. If we’re going off of scary, my favorite’s maybe from The Mists of Avalon. A lot of my fave monsters are literary, but don’t have official art. :(

1. Cat in the Hat from The Cat in the Cat

The Cat in the Hat’s more enjoyable if you view it as demonic horror. There’s a lot of elements I like. Quirky architecture, jokes that go over kids’ heads, goofy magic companion, fun costumes. Yet it’s not a good movie, even by my standards. Audrey Geisel was so disgusted by it, any plans for future live-action adaptations of Theodor’s works were nixed.

I’m kind of glad TCITH was the bad live-action, early ‘00s Seuss movie instead of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Imagine how horrifying they could have made the Grinch.

2-4. “Girly girl” dragons

Barbie As Rapunzel: I have the Penelope plushie, whose design I actually prefer to the movie’s.

Dragon Tales: Before FIM Fluttershy, Cassie was THE shy pink and yellow creature. Dragon Land’s just one of various portal fantasy realms I wanted to visit so badly as a tot. Still do.  

Raya and the Last Dragon: People were way critical of Sisu’s design, calling it Elsa’s scalesona. Like Disney hasn’t reused/referenced old designs, jokingly or not. Not that their human(oid) designs are always unique… But Ghibli gets more leniency in that regard. (Haku’s a great dragon design, btw.)

5. the Moving Finger from Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Horror doesn’t have to be complicated to be effective.

6. Jean Jacket from Nope

Take elements of UFOlogy, meteorology, marine biology, and animal exploitation, then produce the most terrifying movie monster ever.

7. Stuff from The Stuff

Metaphor for frozen yogurt? Diet food craze?

8. Scary Lion from The Teletubbies

A good example of how audio can determine whether something is cute or terrifying. 

9. Wild Things from Where the Wild Things Are

One elementary art class, we got to make our own chimeric Wild Things. Wish I knew where mine was. They’re grotesque, like to party, and actually pretty wholesome.

10. subway station from The Wiz

The Wiz is an interesting localization of The (Wonderful) Wizard of Oz. Garland!Dorothy is taken from Kansas to a mostly unfamiliar fantastical land. (I say “mostly,” because some of the Ozians have Kansan counterparts.) Ross!Dorothy is taken from NYC to fantastical NYC.

Originally, I considered using the book Kalidahs ‘cause I love mix-’n’-match critters. Then I watched this scene. That and the Munchkins coming out of graffiti like ghosts out of chalk outlines was oneiric as fuck. Anyway, the station isn’t just a liminal space, but another architectural monster. The train itself never appears, but we see trash bins and columns advance on Dorothy and co. There’s seemingly non-automated gates and prehensile electrical wires. Also, that peddler with his growing marionettes…

Note: The pic for “The Moving Finger” is actually from the show Monsters, but I only found out it was adapted after deciding to include it. Nightmares & Dreamscapes has one of my favorite covers, even if it’s deceptive. No scarecrow stories.

Unfortunately, the last gif can’t convey the awesome liminal horror that is the Ozified Hoyt–Schermerhorn Streets station. Fun fact, it was also used in The Warriors. 

[tomorrowusa]

Almost no MAGA zombies demonstrate in front of the Trump hush money courthouse. 😝

Donald Trump has been asking supporters to demonstrate at the courthouse in NYC where he's on trial for his hush money payments to Stormy Daniels.

So far, few have shown up over the past month or so. The biggest MAGA crowds over there amount to two or three dozen.

Conspiracy nuts attract the most attention. Nutcase Laura Loomer showed up once with a bullhorn and another time a Florida conspiracy fanatic set himself on fire.

But most of the time there's less activity outside the courthouse then you'd find at a dollar store in Queens.

Most of the people showing up for Trump are GOP sycophants who attend court sessions inside. Some are angling to be Trump's 2024 running mate; they obviously haven't learned the lesson of Mike Pence.

The New York Times describes what is a typical day at the courthouse.

Senator J.D. Vance, a Republican of Ohio who is in contention to be Trump’s running mate, joined Trump’s entourage in court. Also on hand were Senator Tommy Tuberville, Republican of Alabama, and Representative Nicole Malliotakis of New York. Vance attacked Cohen and other participants in the trial in social media posts and at a news conference. That was several hours after three men in Trump hats had gathered for a demonstration in the same park where Vance had spoken. One, Dion Cini, from Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, had brought 14 large Trump flags. He said the turnout was "definitely depressing, because Trump has asked people to come multiple times."

I'm trying to imagine Dion Cini, a semi-professional Trump lickspittle, taking the subway from southern Brooklyn to the Trump courthouse with "14 large Trump flags" during the morning rush hour. 😳

The pictures in the media of outside the Trump courthouse usually show the area on atypically eventful days. This is what it's usually like.

Over the course of a business day you'll usually see more people walking their dogs than cheering for Trump outside the Manhattan Criminal Courthouse.

Trump is falsely claiming that the NYC police are turning away huge throngs of his supporters. That simply is not true.

Fact check: Trump falsely claims police turned away ‘thousands’ from Manhattan courthouse and that supporters ‘can’t get near’

You don't need to be an investigative reporter to know that Trump is lying about this.

Here is a Google map showing typical midday traffic around the Manhattan Criminal Courthouse. I inserted the name of the building because the name doesn't show up at this scale.

There are a number of courts and government buildings clustered together in that part of Lower Manhattan. Feel free to check live traffic at any time at Google Maps. The Trump court address is: 100 Centre Street, New York, NY 10013.

Any streets that are blocked off by local authorities would show up on the NYC street closure map. This shows street status for Tuesday and Wednesday. I placed a rectangle, in Trump orange with a black outline, to designate the block with the Manhattan Criminal Courthouse at 100 Centre Street.

Those two closures would not prevent pedestrians from accessing the courthouse area. Two public parks are directly across the street from the courthouse and MAGA zombies are free to chant anti-democracy slogans from either one.

The NYC street closure map can be accessed here.

Once the case goes to the jury there might be greater security and larger crowds. But the mob seeking vengeance and retribution that Trump was hoping for simply hasn't materialized. You might even take a nap in the park the way Dozy Don does in the courtroom. 😴

[doulayogimama]

I got to my clients apartment on the UES yesterday and dang, did living in greenwich village + working in battery park spoil me with great subways. There are so few subways up there, I understand why rents are so much cheaper. But during the winter, while I am not fully equipped for it and on a super windy day... nope. Spent $15 and less than 10 mins to take a (private) Uber "ride share" to the Hayden Planetarium on the UWS where Kevin and Sky were.

It felt like deja vu almost, but obviously different from 2020. Getting out of work, hopping in an uber, and meeting not just Kevin but our daughter to go to a museum we used to frequent allll the time in the winter. We went to shake shack after and split a mushroom burger and fries because we were exhausted and it was too cold to walk to a vegan place. Instead of going to the LIRR, I could've imagined us going back to our apartment. I could 100% imagine a life in NYC with my family. It felt so good, even in the winter and darkness after 4p.

I've somehow known it since my first visit here at age 11 -- NYC is my home. I can travel the entire world but so far, NYC is still the city that has my heart.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Another red-letter moment for today - 10 Years Ago Today - on the NYC subway... October 31st, 2013 one for the I Love New York file... Not even sure this was a Halloween costume... but how fab is this dude? :: [Mary Elaine LeBey]

* * * *

"I’ll never forget the first time I went (well the details are a little blurry). It was back in 2006, I was working some bullshit part-time job in Mid-Town which to my surprise, involved spending all day in a factory putting price stickers on Christmas Cards. I befriended an Australian girl, one of those wandering couch-surfing types, who had just arrived from Edinburgh and was living in the projects in the LES. Let’s just say she had a lot of circus friends, if that paints any sort of picture. Anyways, I digress, she really wanted to see some DJ at Rubulad so we headed over there on Halloween night. For people who normally dress in costume on regular days, you can imagine the sort of glue-gun creations that showed up on Halloween. It made Paris is Burning look like a JC Penney catalog. There were multiple floors, crazy decorations hanging from everything and everyone in masks. I felt like I was inside David Bowie’s masquerade ball in the Labyrinth. Of course those are also the perfect conditions to lose people and find yourself sitting on a bench by yourself holding a mysterious cup of punch, wondering how you got there. The only thing I do remember was stepping over puke outside, jumping into a car I hoped was a car service, and thinking I had a really good time."

from "Rubulad - The Burning Man of Brooklyn"

[alive on all channels]

[focsle]

Sometimes I accidentally swipe on my weather app and get Nantucket's weather instead and I'm like......god i wish that were me. Only not really, I guess.

I didn't like Nantucket as a...Place. I liked the concept of Nantucket. But I hated everyone there who wasn't the year-round locals who worked there or the one man who stopped his pickup truck in the middle of an intersection enthusiastically being like 'DO YOU WANNA KNOW ABOUT THAT?' because I was the only person looking at a meridian stone. But I hated every clothing store and every ugly chintzy Life's A Beach art place and every person who walked by in their beige asymmetrical sweater or w/e and every person who clutched their pearls about me living in nyc and taking the subway every day lol etc. etc. etc. And I went slightly off season too. I can't imagine how fuckin awful it is in the summer.

But I think I'd like Nantucket in February. I'd like it in the dead of winter. Otherwise, gimme New Bedford any day.

[freshdotdaily]

A lot of y'all know I been obsessed with Rammellzee for a hot second now. I don't have the crazy obsession y'all have w/ Basqiuat, or Andy Warhol. But of that downtown scene, I reaaaally loved Haring as a yute dem and I really fucked with A. Charles just off seeing their work publicly all around me.

But once I found Ramm, it was another revelation. A convergence of a lot of shit I like wrapped in one enigmatic weirdo artist's ideas to pick apart and break down. Bruh, this nigga straddles genius and mental illness in a wild way. There's a touch of Rammellzee in MF DOOM.

One of the reasons I liked the young rapper Wiki when I found him in 2012, (outside of this video) is because him/his crew "Ratking" refers to "Letter Racers". I instantly thought, "yo, this kid is tapped in!".

Also, I'm guilty for really obsessing over late 80's and 90's era NYC culture. Y'all wasn't outside, but there's just something super ill about that downtown time/space that incubated so much of our culture from my hometown. Alex Corporan (of Supreme's OG crew) summed it thusly: "The ‘90s in NYC lands as the last of the epic, raw, untouchable, unstoppable, fearless times for life. You're unable to replicate the experience of what was happening in New York during this time. Skateboarding, music, nightlife, art, fashion... you name it! 2000-2004 held onto that energy for a bit, but from 1990-1999 you grew up real fast and experienced shit in light speed."

Anyways, NY Times did a piece I wanna hit y'all with. I sprinkled in some video/links/pics for razzle-dazzle. Long live Rammellzee! In the late nineteen-seventies, the sociologist Nathan Glazer had grown weary of riding New York’s graffiti-covered subways. The names of young vandals, who identified themselves as “writers” rather than as artists, were everywhere—inside, outside, sometimes stretching across multiple train cars. Glazer didn’t know who these writers were, or whether their transgressive spirit ever manifested itself in violent crimes, but that didn’t matter. The daily confrontation with graffiti suggested a city under siege. “The signs of official failure are everywhere,” he wrote in an influential 1979 essay. Graffiti, with its casual anarchy and cryptic syntax, offered glimpses into a “world of uncontrollable predators.” In the nineties, Glazer’s essay would help inspire the concept of “broken windows” policing—a theory that preserving the appearance of calm, orderly neighborhoods can foster peace and civility.

Graffiti has always had this kind of metaphorical power. It is somehow more than art or destruction (even though it is both), and it prompts awe or dread, depending on your tolerance for disorder. For every Glazer, there were romantics like Norman Mailer, who had written the text for a book of photographs elevating graffiti to the status of “faith.” From his perspective, graffiti forced the upper crust to reckon with the names and the fugitive dreams of a forgotten underclass: “You hit your name and maybe something in the whole scheme of the system gives a death rattle.”

Few people understood and internalized this power as deeply as the artist, rapper, and theoretician Rammellzee (which he styled as The ramm:ell:zee). He believed that his time in the train yards and the tunnels of New York gave him a vision for how to destroy and rebuild our world. He was born in 1960 and grew up in Far Rockaway, Queens. His birth name is a closely guarded secret; he legally changed it to his artistic tag in 1979. (He also insisted that The ramm:ell:zee was an “equation,” not a name.) Little is known about his youth, aside from passing aspirations to study dentistry (he was good with his hands) and to be a model (in a 1980 catalogue, he is identified as Mcrammellzee).

Ramm—as he became known—believed that language enforced discipline, and that whoever controlled it could steer people’s thoughts and imaginations. His hope wasn’t to replace English; he wanted to annihilate it from the inside out. His generation grew up after urban flight had devastated New York’s finances and infrastructure. Ramm channelled the chaos into a spectacular personal mythology, drawn from philology, astrophysics, and medieval history. He was obsessed with a story of Gothic monks whose lettering grew so ornate that the bishops found it unreadable and banned the technique. The monks’ work wasn’t so different from the increasingly abstract styles of graffiti writing, which turned a name into something mysterious and unrecognizable. Ramm developed a philosophy, Gothic Futurism, and an artistic approach that he called Ikonoklast Panzerism: “Ikonoklast” because he was a “symbol destroyer,” abolishing age-old standards of language and meaning; “Panzer” because this symbolic warfare involved arming all the letters of the alphabet, so that they might liberate themselves. He lived these ideas through his art and his music, and by being part of the hip-hop scene during its infancy.

In 1983, Rammellzee and a rapper named K-Rob went to visit the painter Jean-Michel Basquiat. Though Ramm and Basquiat were friends, they were also rivals. Ramm would later say that Basquiat wasn’t a “dream artist”—he didn’t so much radiate visions outward as take things in like a “sponge,” learning about genius from books. He and Ramm once bet on who could most convincingly parody the other’s work. (Ramm claimed not only that he won but that Basquiat’s art dealer, who wasn’t in on their ruse, told Basquiat that “his” work was the best he had ever done.)

That night, Basquiat invited Ramm and K-Rob to record a song he’d written. Ramm, who had rapped in the movie “Wild Style,” was already known for his unique nasal sneer. (He called it his “gangster duck” style.) The two men looked at Basquiat’s elementary rhymes, laughed, and tossed them in the trash. Instead, they made up their own lyrics—a brilliant, surreal tale of a kid (the earnest, bemused K-Rob) who’s on his way home and a hectoring pimp (Ramm) who tries to tempt him toward the dark side. Basquiat called the song “Beat Bop,” and paid for it to be produced; he painted the vinyl single’s cover art himself. The song was murky and strange, like a spiky funk jam slowed to a sinister crawl. In the background, someone tunes a violin. There’s so much echo and reverb on the track that it sounds like an attempt at time travel.

In the eighties, graffiti gained acceptance in the art world. Despite Ramm’s charisma, the intensity of his work and his stubborn, erratic personality kept him on the movement’s fringes. Where Basquiat and Keith Haring seemed shy showmen, Ramm came across as a nutty professor. His early paintings took inspiration from the psychedelia of comic books and science fantasy, with mazy train tracks running across cosmic reliefs. His palette was attuned to the era’s anxieties about nuclear war and nuclear waste. The colors were bright and garish, suggesting a box of neon highlighters run amok.

Rammellzee created and wore full-body suits of armor that he called “Garbage Gods.”

Photograph by Mari Horiuchi / courtesy Red Bull Arts New York and the Rammellzee Estate

In the mid-eighties, he began rendering these ideas in 3-D. He made sculptures that evoked the fossilized remains of twentieth-century life: newspaper clippings, key rings, chain links, and other junk, floating in an epoxy ooze. The most remarkable works were his “Garbage Gods,” full-body suits of armor, some of which weighed more than a hundred pounds. They look like junk-yard Transformers doing samurai cosplay. His most famous character, the Gasholeer, was outfitted with a small flamethrower.

Ramm’s art, thought, and music are the subject of the exhibition “ramm∑llz∑∑: Racing for Thunder,” at Red Bull Arts New York.

Befitting the popular drink’s own sense of iconoclasm, “Racing” bathes in Ramm’s frenzied, free-associative, and occasionally overwhelming energy. There are his early canvases and sculptures, along with flyers, business cards, manifestos, and patent applications. A small theatre screens previously unseen videos of Ramm rapping at nightclubs. The most impressive part of the survey is a floor devoted to his “Garbage Gods” and “Letter Racers”—skateboards representing each letter of the alphabet, armed with makeshift rockets, screwdrivers, and blades.

Throughout the exhibition, you can hear moments from Ramm’s lectures on Gothic Futurism—a thrilling jumble of street-corner hustling and technical language, all “parsecs,” “integers,” “aerodynamics.” As I was examining a collection of hand-painted watches, I kept hearing Ramm pause as he reached the end of a long disquisition on ecological catastrophe and graffiti-as-warfare, and then bark, “Next slide!”

In early May, the Red Bull Music Festival staged a Ramm-inspired concert to mark the opening of the art show. Ramm had continued to make music after “Beat Bop,” never wavering from his philosophies, just declaring them against increasingly turbulent, industrial-sounding backdrops. The eclecticism of the bill spoke to his wandering ear, and ranged from the terse hardcore of Show Me the Body to the wise-ass raps of Wiki. K-Rob, wearing a T-shirt featuring a mushroom and the words “I’m a Fun Guy,” reprised his verse from “Beat Bop,” grinning the whole way through. Gio Escobar, the leader of the deft punk-jazz band Standing on the Corner, dedicated a song to a late friend. The departed are everywhere around us, he said, as a groove emerged from the band’s dubbed-out chaos. “And they’re waiting.”

As hip-hop and art changed, as graffiti vanished from New York’s trains and walls, Ramm delved further into his own private cosmos—namely, the enormous loft in Tribeca where he lived, which he called the Battle Station. His obscurity wasn’t a choice. In the early eighties, he offered to send the U.S. military some of the intelligence he had gathered for national defense. (It declined.) In 1985, he wrote an opera, “The Requiem of Gothic Futurism.” In the nineties, he tried to promote his ideas by producing a comic book and a board game. He thought that toy manufacturers might want to mass-produce his “Garbage Gods” models.

He was the first artist to collaborate with the streetwear brand Supreme.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Supreme (@supremenewyork)

There was a series of infomercial-like videos to seed interest in “Alpha’s Bet,” an epic movie that he hoped would finally resolve the narrative arc of his extended universe.

By the time Rammellzee died, in 2010, after a long illness, New York City had been completely remade by mayoral administrations that took broken-windows policing as gospel. The Battle Station became condos.

The Internet has made it easy to take what the culture provides you and rearrange it in some novel, cheeky way. It’s much more difficult to build an entirely new world—to abide by an ethical vision with a ferocity that requires you to break all the rules. I was surprised by how moved I felt standing underneath Ramm’s “Letter Racers” and studying the textures of the “Garbage Gods.” To see their meticulous handiwork up close was to believe that Ramm’s far-flung theories, his mashup of quantum physics and “slanguage,” made sense as an outsider’s survival strategy. I noticed all the discarded fragments of city life—bulbs and screws, a billiard ball, a doll’s head, old fan blades and turn-signal signs, visors stacked to look like pill bugs. His commitment was total. These are works of devotion.

This is where Ramm wanted to live—at the edge of comprehensibility, but in a way that invited others to wonder. Cities are filled with strangers who possess an unnerving energy, who hail us with stories, songs, and poems. Ramm was one of these. In an interview filmed in the aughts, Ramm sheds light on his everyday life. Sometimes, he says, he’ll be walking down the street or sitting at a bar, and people will just look at him. And sometimes they’ll come up to him and ask, “Who are you?” He’s explaining all this while wearing one of his “Garbage God” masks. You notice his paunch, the warm crackle of his voice at rest. “I’m just an average Joe,” he says, and he sounds like he believes it. 

♦Published in the print edition of the May 28, 2018, issue, with the headline “Graffiti Prophet.”

[finshingpool]

the Sun and the Star (a dehydrated review)

Its one of those book that gets real character thoughts and action packed at the end and when you put it down your neuron activity was like "what?"

(a/n:: THIS IS MYY FIRST REVIIEW WHAT DO I DO OO/ this is mostly my thoughts yes major event spoilers)

The story all started with Nico di Angelo, or at least when he started having repeated dream episode that got so bad he had to have daily therapy session with Dionysus. Suspecting this could be the torturous voice of Bob the Titan being trapped in Tartarus (sick name honestly would sent chill down my worst enemies), Nico and Will pack their knapsack and head down to the worst place imaginable.

insert thoughts - interfering with synopsis: the small thing that I really like about the rising action is that it's realistic. Unlike the prior book, there's no terrorizing deadline for their quest that if they don't meet it. BOOM. Nico and Will was taking a stroll in the park (or nyc subway system (without benches:<<<)) to meet Percy and Annabeth for advices.

Fast forward a couple of weeks because I benched this draft.

AND. My down to earth, honest to heaven, what people would called a 'for real' review is that: the writing was spectacular, rereading the original Percy Jackson recently I have come to appreciate Rick Riordan growth as a creative artist. As when I was frowning upon the obvious quest structure in labyrinth (the side quest were sometimes obviously so forrcceeeddd they felt like second thoughts when the editor just hey plot hole this can't happened because they didn't know this yet), In the sun and the star it was fantastic. Every side quest has gravity and necessity to reach the objective of the quest. It was really good, until they were in Tatarus (basically the entire climax, maybe the resolution?? it just wasn't satisfying) I felt like the entire satyr/centaur character was HECKLY unnecessary. It felt like my grade 5 fantasy writing assignment where I just gave up after all the sweats and tears put into the built up then end the story in one paragraph.

OH AND NYX, GOD SHE WOULD ACT IN EVERY WAY A PRIMORDIAL GODESS WOULDN'T. Her motive for causing this humbo jumbo isn't even clear. WHY WOULD THE EMBODIMENT OF DARKNESS EVEN GIVE ONE SHIT ABOUT SOME TITAN, MUCH LESS A DEMIGOD. . Wholeheartedly, this just felt like an excuse to send the to lovers to the darkest place under earth (thank you Nyx)

*rustling noise of turning another page* THANK GOD THERES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. HIGH FIVE WRITERS. Seeing how Wills view changes about his relationship with Nico and seeing the grumpy ball of darkness opening up to human connection is such a joy to read.

When addressing any series it is important to evaluate the successor as a continuation of the of the whole thing and kudosss sun and star is the step in the right direction for the series.

tl/dr: I pick this book up for Nico and didn't regret it one bit (could be better tho!

[ritualvirtuality]

constantly thinking about making a ferry map with all of the regular service around nyc. but i think its just a little much with all how disconnected the system is. so im working on imagining a fully-integrated system (ideally with at minimum fare integration w the subway/hblr/path) with numbered routes...

theres a lot of ferries... if they were better connected and not super expensive it would be nice lol