#the only time I'd be able to afford it is perhaps next year

[halohamilton]

.

[novashelby]

I'm Not Your Wife, I'm Your Daughter-Father!Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC-Angst

Pairing: Father!Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC-Evelyn (but honestly, Evie has a little bit of everyone. So, you are welcomed to be Evie...we are all Evie)

Warning: Death, swearing, violence, mentions of sex, very sad

Word Count: 2,761

Summary: Evelyn comforts Lizzie as Ruby gets sick in the hospital. When Tommy neglects his family, his daughter has some choice words for him

I am so proud of this. For the first time in a while, I feel really happy with something I wrote. So, please please please consider commenting and letting me know what you think. I know likes are easier, but I'd really appreciate some comments.

The childrens’ tuberculosis wing was a dark road. In fear of contraction, no one was allowed past a certain point. It reminded Evelyn of the road to hell, but she was older then. She knew better to speak the words in her head. So instead, she said nothing as Lizzie and her stared down the corridor that only seemed to get darker. A simple hand on the shoulder was good enough, whatever that was…good enough. They knew nothing was good. So, perhaps, it was just enough.

No longer able to bear looking down where they took her, Evelyn turned, letting out a large exhale. Out of everyone, she had to be the strong one, the present one, the mature one. There was no room to lose herself. Without looking at Lizzie, her hand searched behind her until she felt the ridges of her checkered coat. Her fingers hooked around the sleeve and tugged. But she was stubborn. If anything at all were to change from then until the end, Lizzie was determined to be there. 

“Go home,” she told Evelyn, not unkindly. More so lack of any emotion. But she’d be damned if she left. Evelyn looked at her step-mother, or mother, she was never really sure what any of them were. The woman was young-only eleven years older than she, but her eyes were sunken in and her cheeks lost all and any color. It would have been nice and too easy to blame it all on grief. Evelyn knew better. Her father sent everyone to an early grave. 

She shook her head. “No way home at this time.” 

Lizzie softened a bit, giving a short head nod. “Very well-”

“Can I get you anything?” she asked. There was nothing left to get. Lizzie needed no more coffee. The two women shared a look of understanding. Lizzie stepped forward and hugged Evelyn; her arms squeezed around her, head tangled in her hair. Stiff at first, Evelyn was taken aback. Her own arms slowly wrapped around, hands hovering for a moment over the woman’s back. While neither were ever affectionate as mother and daughter, Evelyn was bonded to Lizzie by one mutual understanding. One was birthed by a whore and one was a whore. “It’s not going to be okay,” Evelyn said, resting her hands against her back. “It’s going to be horrible.” She could tell the woman was crying from how her shoulders twitched and chest heaved.

“I know,” she said, furiously nodding. “I know, I-I know….” Lizzie did her best sniffing, and wiping the wetness from her face, but Evelyn grabbed her hands. It was okay to cry. Everyone did it. Especially when life handed you a reason with no explanation. “I’m, I’m fine-”

“Let’s sit.” Evelyn walked Lizzie to an empty waiting area that was just as gloomy as the corridor. They were quiet for a while, studying everything there was to study; paint chipped wall, door frame, the chairs, and a lopsided painting of the Dover cliffs. But when Evelyn turned her head, eerily sat next to her was a teddy bear. It was a faded brown with a worn out face. Dried tears left specks of crusty, hard fur. It and her stared at one another for far too long until she turned and found something else to get lost in. “He’ll come-”

“He loves you,” she commented, slowly looking at her. “Out of everything in the world, he loves you more than anything-”

“No.” Perhaps it was true, but Evelyn couldn’t afford Lizzie going down that direction. “No, he loves everything the same, Lizzie. If it was me in that room, he would have been just as conveniently occupied-”

“He’s affectionate with you-”

“My father’s affections are spread thin.” Evelyn looked at Lizzie, forcing a small, thin smile…lips pressed and face tight. She shook her head. “We all fight for what isn’t there. You, me, Charlie. If I was older and wiser, I would have told you none of it was worth it. Him, it, us…none of it.”

Lizzie for the first time allowed herself to laugh. It was awkwardly placed among the hospital grounds, but nonetheless, it was a laugh of sorts. “I would have been just as stupid-”

“Well, if you look at it this way,” Evelyn snorted. “Married John and you still would be without a husband.” As the words came out of her mouth, she regretted it, but Lizzie laughed trying to soak up any humor she could in distraction. Shortly after, they went back to sitting in silence, soaking up their thoughts. Perhaps trying to numb themselves in the midst of it. Evelyn felt so much she was numb. 

Sometime around midnight, Ruby had been moved to a different room. One where the family can see her under precautions. Lucky for Evelyn, she had received the vaccine as a child unlike Ruby. They had come out just in 1921 and just a short year later, made their rounds. Lizzie had fallen asleep, slumped in the waiting room chair. She almost woke her up, but decided against it, wanting to slip into the little girl’s room herself for a short moment.

And it was a short moment because Evelyn couldn’t bear to look at such a small life withering away. She slid in the room. It was the first time she saw Ruby for a few days and even then, she’d been thinner looking. Her feet stopped under the threshold, feeling her heart sink down to her stomach. “Ruby,” she whispered, not knowing what she could expect back. The last time the two sisters chatted freely, it’d been about fairies. 

First, it was a sneeze and Evelyn helped her blow her nose. Then it was a cough and Evelyn went into her little room with some water. Finally, it was the fever and after the fever, the infection spread over her little body. Both were too busy. Evelyn would never tell a grieving mother, you were also too busy. Her father was too busy neglecting family for work and Lizzie was too busy caring for a man who neglected her. When the fever got too high, she called the doctor. Funny enough, they were home. Both of them in their own world. Own repeating cycle. Tommy had asked why didn’t you tell us? Who could between all the drinking and yelling? But that was then when they were naive of it all.

Evelyn pressed by the threshold and quietly sat down on the edge of the bed. The young girl slept still, head lifted. She’d never seen a child so drained of life; pale and almost tinted blue. Her breaths were spread out and wheezing. Sometimes they’d be like little gasps for air, trying to cling onto whatever was left. Affectionately, Evelyn rubbed the girl's legs to get some circulation moving and propped her up better. She was still fashioning the braids from a few days ago. “You look so pretty, Ruby,” she whispered, sliding to the floor to kneel at the bedside. “I wish I brought a blue bow…I’ll put one in your hair for you’ll always be wearing a blue bow.” 

Evelyn thought back to the time she took her shopping in Birmingham. Ruby had just turned five. Look, they have a pink one for your hair. She would have looked so cute with pink. Ruby had taken one look at the pink satin ribbon and turned, pointing to the blue one, I want the blue one. “I’ll always get you the blue one,” Evelyn said when the memory ended and she was left staring at the still girl. Tears leaned heavy on her eyes waiting to fall down her cheeks. It would be the first time Evelyn would have allowed herself to cry, but not for long. She placed a lingering kiss on the girl’s cheek before leaving. When she opened the door, Lizzie had just reached for the door knob. But they only shared a quick glance before Evelyn went back to the seating area.

The bear had seemed to been moved, so when she walked back in, it’d been staring at her like the devil. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” she groaned, swiping it off the chair before sitting down. 

Sometime between then and whenever Tommy came, she fell asleep. He peeked in before sliding into the waiting area, kneeling by her sleeping side. Despite being twenty-four years old, Evelyn was still short and able to make a makeshift bed out of chairs, curling up. He was his girl. His baby still. After everything, Tommy still looked at her as he did when she was eight. His calloused, shaking hand rested against her cheek for a moment, his thumb making circles. “Love,” he whispered, placing kisses on her forehead. 

Evelyn jumped awake a bit, propping herself up with her elbow. In a tired voice, she said, “you should have been here-”

“I know-”

“No, dad.” Dad. Tommy felt that knife go through him. It had always been daddy, but never dad. “You should have been here!” The words came out like hisses through clenched teeth. She sat up, ignoring the cushion imprint on her cheek. Tommy couldn’t argue with that. He knew. Tommy looked down, swallowing, nodding.

“I had work-”

“Work,” she scoffed. “Ruby is in the hospital…she’s-.” Evelyn stopped talking, noticing the red puffiness around her father’s eyes. She knew then. “Why are you here with me? You should be with your wife-”

“You should go home-”

“You’re deflecting-”

“You should go home,” he repeated, tone a bit more serious. “I’ve called Isaiah to pick you. If you want to have a fight, we’ll have a row when I come home later. Alright?”

Evelyn shook her head. “No.” She was incredibly tired of his shit. “No, dad, nothing is alright.” She slid from the chair and draped her coat around her shoulders, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Tommy looked over at her. “Remember when you were eight, and you told me something.” Evelyn paused at the door, rolling her eyes to herself before tiredly turning to her father. He was still kneeling at the chair. “You said…you said to me, do you remember? We were laying in the field and it was the first time I had taken you on the caravan-”

“What are you getting at? Huh?” she rushed him, fixing her bag on her shoulder. “I know, we went up north…it was the edge of the season and the mist…we got really wet laying in the grass. But I don’t understand what any of it has to do with you not being here!”

He got up, striding over to her, pointing, “you said…daddy, it’s me and you-”

“Because at that point, you were all I had,” she snipped back. “But guess what, I’m older now and my circle is bigger. I have other people, and in fact, out of everyone…it seems I have you less.”

Tommy cocked a brow. “No, no…you said, in some shape and form with your little girl words…daddy, it’s me and you, and no matter what you do, I will always be by your side.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You did,” he said, pointing. “You said that…it was misty and in September of 1918…In fact, I had adopted you just a month later. Shortly before that, I had came home from France-”

“I was eight,” she sighed. “You can’t hold something against me from when I was eight-”

His hand reached up and massaged her cheek. “I’ve held people for less-”

“Well, you fucking know what, dad.” She swatted his hand away. “That promise wears off when you start to neglect the only people who still love you. And quite frankly, loving you, it’s hard…it’s fucking tiring. Exhausting. You never know the meaning of accountability. You know what you do?” Tommy swallowed, his hand instinctively gripping her wrist. Perhaps deep down he was afraid she was going to leave. Go somewhere further than home. Somewhere he could no longer grab her. 

Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. “You don’t understand…no one hates me more than-”

“No one hates you, daddy,” she said. “We're just tired. Everything we have was not worth the cost of what it took. Everyone else is gone.” In one way or another, everyone else was gone. She slipped from his wrist and started to leave.

That is when he said, “I’m glad it wasn’t you-”

“That's an awful thing to say right now,” she whispered. “That was my sister-”

“I loved her…love…and my heart hurts so much right now,” he explained. “But if it was you, I’d be better off dead-”

“And that’s why I mean.” Evelyn had to choke down the tears. It was years of stress and trauma coming forth. Discreetly, she held onto the door frame. “You don’t understand…it’s too much! Daddy, it’s too much…I’m your fucking daughter! But after Grace died, I became everything! I became Charlie’s mother, your wife, your sister, your fucking mother! I became your nurse, your caretaker, your therapist, your fucking everything. It’s been ten fucking years, daddy, and I’m tired…I’m so fucking exhausted!” She walked over to, her hands gripping his arms. “I’ve lived through every stage of life for everyone, but myself…”

Tommy was hardly impressed. He knew what she was saying, but couldn’t accept it. Because he was selfish. “Have I not given you everything you’ve ever wanted? That is your problem, Evelyn, I raised you spoiled…and I will continue to fuckin’ spoil you because it’s too fuckin’ late. So what? I asked you when my wife died to help with your brother? Huh? Is that it?” He pinched her chin. “Do you not remember how you’d sneak out all the time? Get in trouble? Party and drink? I’d have to come pick you up from some random fucking house at three o’clock in the morning! So, don’t give me that bullshit, Evelyn…you lived your youth just fine. You know what I did with mine? Worked and then I went to fuckin’ war…So, I’m sorry, out of all your fun times, I asked you to hold a tad bit of responsibility. Go home-”

“Aunty Polly was always right about you,” she scoffed in disbelief. “You lack all sense of accountability. I had to sneak out because that was only time I was free-”

“And I never once punished you for it,” he interjected. “Never striked you, grounded you, hardly ever yelled at you…Out of everyone in my life, you are the only fucking person I’ve forgiven without consequence.”

Evelyn pushed away. “That’s because everything else has been a punishment. My friends from school are married…I was supposed to go to university, but you needed me home. All the men who wanted to marry have found other wives. Daddy, I am left behind because I’ve devoted my whole life to being your emotional lap dog, and what's sad is, you don’t even understand!” She paused to swallow, taking deep breaths. Tears had dripped down her cheeks, falling to the ground. “Daddy, you only have three people left…me, Uncle Arthur, and Aunty Ada…and some of us already have one foot out the door.” 

Tommy nodded, rolling his eyes slightly. He dug into his pocket for a cigarette. “Maybe my curse is my ambition.”

“And mine is that I love you too much,” she replied. “I love you so much that I’ve never left and I probably never will. So I will suffer until you die…I will watch you kill yourself little by little, drink and smoke, and sleep with women you can never afford to love. I will stand by and watch you wear people down until they die, and then have to put you back together because you realize your guilt. It’s a fuckin’ cycle.” Evelyn took a deep breath, fixing her coat before turning away. “Daddy, I love you, but I promised you that when you were making illegal bets on horse races. Not neglecting us for politicians.”

“What do you want me to say, Evelyn?” he asked. 

“Nothing. I want you to say nothing,” she said. “But I fucking swear to God, if you bring that blonde headed bitch back to our home and fuck her like you did the night Ruby went into the hospital, you’ll see a side of me you’ve never seen-”

“Daughters don’t get in their father’s-”

She looked at him once more. “I’ll fucking cut her head and stick it on the pillars of the bridge in London like 1600. And with her blood, I will write your fucking name….”

[lavenderlegends]

you drew stars around my scars

ship: stiles/derek prompt: star gazing characters: lydia, isaac, pack mention cw: mentions of dead parents tags: FLUFFFFFFFF word count: 2.2k ao3

♞♚♞♚

It's been a long day. Make that a long week. Actually, a long month. Maaaybe even a long year. It's been back-to-back monsters that seem to keep popping up every week. And Stiles? He's tired.

The pack needs a vacation. Desperately. But Lydia spent all last weekend ignoring the fae issue and created a schedule. Bless her. And Stiles has the first shift off from monster hunting. Along with Derek. They're the only single people in the pack these days, so it makes sense they'd pair off together. It gives all the couples and partners time to make plans and afford to keep them.

But Stiles is restless.

Being off-duty is hard. He has no idea what the pack is dealing with this week. He's been completely shunned from any sort of knowledge, because everyone knows he'd try to help.

He climbs out his window, dragging a thin blanket with him, and sets it up on the roof of the porch. He doesn't know exactly what he's doing but maybe gazing at some stars will help.

There used to be a time in his life when he'd be able to do this and just wonder at all the possibilities in the world. But now, now he knows anything's possible and it feels a little heavy.

There's a snap of a branch and then suddenly, he's not alone.

"What are you doing?" Derek asks in lieu of a greeting.

"Star gazing. Have you ever heard of it?" Stiles asks, shifting over on his blanket. They don't have to discuss it. It's understood that Derek will join him.

"Hm," is all Derek says before he settles down on the blanket with Stiles. "Why are you doing it?"

"I used to do this all the time as a kid," Stiles whispers, as if he's suddenly afraid to spook the universe by talking about something normal. "It was my favourite thing to do with my mom."

"Oh." Derek shifts. "Should I--?"

"No, no," Stiles murmurs. He reaches out and pulls Derek back down. "Stay."

So, Derek does.

"What are you doing here? It's like one in the morning," Stiles says, turning his head to get a better view of Derek.

"Star gazing," Derek answers. He turns his head on the blanket to look at Stiles. "I don't know. Couldn't sleep. Figured you'd be up too."

"This whole shift thing is great in theory," Stiles mumbles.

"Yeah. I thought I'd be grateful for the break, but it's turning out to be a lot harder to slow down." Derek shifts and then adds, "This is nice though."

"Yeah." Stiles can't seem to tear his eyes away from Derek's. "Yeah, it is."

They don't talk for a while, but it's not as awkward as Stiles thought it would be with Derek. Maybe they've been at this whole monster-hunting thing for so long, the silence is a welcomed presence. He's not sure.

But it becomes a habit after that. On nights they can't sleep. Even when they're on-duty protecting Beacon Hills from the monster of the week.

Stiles starts to look forward to it, even. Humming when he suspects Derek will be coming over.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Lydia asks one day when he's doing just that.

"Huh?" Stiles looks up from the book where he's researching vampires. "Nothing."

"No, no," she says, shaking her finger at him. "I know you, Stilinski. Something... or perhaps, someone has you humming. Are you dating?"

He laughs, because the idea is so ridiculous. "Me? Dating? No. Despite being surrounded by relationships, I am not seeing anyone. Single as a pringle, Lyds. That's me."

"Mhm," she says. "If you say so."

"I do," he replies before closing the book. "Nothing in that one..."

"Right," she says. "Back to work."

And the next time he hums, he finds Isaac looking at him curiously. Stiles can't help it; they're on a stake-out together and it's boring. Nothing's happening.

"What?" Stiles asks after a moment. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah. Happiness." Isaac pauses before adding, "It's a good look, man. I'm glad you're happy."

"I'm--" but Stiles can't bring himself to say the words.

Is he happy?

Hardly.

But he's going home tonight, setting out a blanket, and he even had time to swing by to pick up a pre-made charcuterie board. And he'll spend some time with Derek, talking about the most mundane things.

And that's exactly what they do when Derek climbs up the tree and swings onto the roof.

"Oh!" he says with a pleased smile. "You brought food. I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"No, no, it's fine," Stiles is quick to reassure. "We just followed the witches to the grocery store, so I thought I'd just... it's dumb, isn't it?"

"Nope. I'm starving." Derek settles down beside him, a soft smile on his face. "Tonight, Boyd, Erica, and I had to follow the warlock to the sewers."

"You're old home," Stiles jokes.

"Shut up." But there's nothing but amusement in Derek's expression. He picks up some cheese and asks, "How'd it go with you and Isaac?"

"Fine," Stiles says, shrugging. "The witch just did like, regular people thing. I'm starting to think she's not much of a threat."

"Mm, I wouldn't be too sure. Witches are powerful, and a huge threat to werewolves. They're always after our fur."

"What?!" Stiles bursts out laughing and only manages to calm himself when Derek shushes him. Stiles grins. "Don't worry, Dad's not home tonight. But really? Your fur?"

"Yeah. It has magical properties in some spells," Derek explains. "What? Is that so ridiculous?"

"A little," Stiles says, chuckling. "But enough about work. I want you to finish that story about your parents."

"Oh, yeah!" Derek settles in and launches into the longest, winding story Stiles has ever heard him tell. He laughs at all the right moments, gasps where appropriate, and shakes his head when Derek gets really into it. It's almost out of character for him, but Stiles has really seen him open up. He understands Derek more. And there's nothing in this world that Derek loves more than talking about his parents.

"Scott, Allison, and Isaac kind of remind me of my parents," Derek continues. "It's such a messy beginning to a beautiful relationship."

Stiles feels his face soften. "You are such a soft wolf."

"Hardly," Derek mutters. "Remember, you're human. I could eat you for breakfast and--"

"But you wouldn't," Stiles murmurs.

It seems to catch Derek off-guard, but he agrees even quieter. "But I wouldn't."

"I like this side of you, Hale." Stiles shifts on the blanket and picks up a piece of cheese. He chucks it at Derek, who catches it in his mouth using his werewolf reflexes. "Why don't we get to see this side of you all the time?"

Derek considers this for a long moment. Stiles is almost certain he's forgotten the question by the time he answers. "I think, because we haven't really had time to slow down. We're constantly in war, fighting with someone or something. And..."

"And?" Stiles prompts.

"There's something about star gazing with you," Derek admits. "That's all."

"That's all?" Stiles asks, reaching over to gently push Derek's shoulder. "I think there's more to it than that, but I won't hold it against you."

"You really wanna know?"

"I really, really do." Stiles flutters his eyelashes dramatically in the moonlight. Derek laughs. It's the prettiest sound he's ever heard. Stiles wonders if he could record it so he could listen to it all the time.

Derek shifts and pushes the charcuterie board out of the way. He settles down and stares up at the sky. Stiles follows suit, wondering if maybe it's easier to talk when they're not looking directly at each other.

"You remind me of my mom."

They're not the words Stiles expects, and they take his breath away. He reaches out and slips his fingers in between Derek's.

"She would've loved you. Cora and Laura are both more like my dad. They're strong, no nonsense, bold... but my mom..." Derek whispers. "She had ADHD like you. Was scatterbrained. Would do something - anything - just for the story. Fearless and stubborn."

Stiles stays silent and simply squeezes Derek's hand.

This is the best compliment he's ever received.

"She would go up against the scariest creature and tell them how it was. She didn't care." Derek pauses before adding, "She would've thought you were the bravest - and maybe stupidest - human out there. But she would've admired how much you love the pack, because no one loved as hard as her. But I think... I think you might."

Stiles stares up at the stars.

How does he put it into words how that makes him feel?

He turns his head to face Derek, who's already looking at him. Quietly, he says, "Thank you."

Derek's smiling softly, with tears building in the corner of his eyes. "Yeah. You're welcome."

"My mom would've loved you too," Stiles says after a while.

"You think?"

"Mhm. No one is as fiercely protective as she was - in the best way - but I think you come close." Stiles is surprised when Derek squeezes his hand. It feels so natural to be holding hands with him, Stiles almost forgot they were doing it. "She also would have loved your grumpiness. She would've told me that you put on a show, but you have the biggest heart of anyone she knows."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Stiles takes a breath and then lets it go. Talking about his mom meeting Derek is hard, but not so hard that it hurts. In fact, it brings him a little peace.

"Derek?"

"Mm?"

"I think our moms are best friends in another life," Stiles whispers.

"Me too." Derek squeezes his hand a little tighter. "Me too."

Stiles doesn't tell anyone about the conversation with Derek. Or how he's desperately, quickly, and passionately falling in love with him. He doesn't want to break the magic he's under, because he feels lovesick. Love drunk.

He doesn't know what Derek thinks. Maybe it's all platonic, but the next time they're star gazing together, Derek reaches for Stiles' hand. And the time after that, they lay a little closer.

And if Derek sometimes kisses Stiles' on the forehead before he says good night, it's no one's business but theirs.

That is until Lydia brings the pack together. She's standing in front of everyone and announces, "Alright, we're going to try a new rotation. Stiles, instead of breaking you off with Derek, we're going to put you with Erica and Boyd. And Derek, you'll get your break with Allison and I. This way--"

"No."

Lydia blinks. She looks at Stiles blankly, and he scrambles to catch up with the fact that he just said no. Out loud.

"Uh, I mean..."

"Why not? I thought this would work better, because it means there are less rotations and then we're on a four week schedule vs a five week schedule. And--"

"Lydia," Stiles says, not daring to look across the room at Derek. "I'm asking you to leave it as is."

"Oh." Lydia frowns. "Does, uh, does anyone else have any objections?"

The pack starts talking at once, but Stiles just silently glances at Derek while everyone's distracted. Derek's staring at him, his head tilted slightly, and his expression hopeful. Stiles doesn't know what to make of it.

"Alright, alright," Lydia says, commanding the room again. "We'll keep it as is for now, but we'll look at it during next month's meeting to see if it's still working."

The pack might not all agree, and Stiles knows it might be selfish to keep him and Derek on the same week off, but he doesn't care.

He's already planning his speech for tonight. He doesn't know entirely what he's going to say, but he has an idea. And that's enough.

When Derek hops onto the roof later that night, Stiles has the blanket already laid out. He sits instead of lying down, and he waits until Derek has silently settled in.

"So. That was an interesting pack meeting," Derek murmurs.

"Yeah." Stiles curses silently. He already sounds like a bumbling idiot. And instead of the speech he planned to say, he simply blurts, "I'm falling in love with you."

Derek doesn't dare show any change of expression on his face, but Stiles knows him better than that. There's a twitch in Derek's fingers, and that's all Stiles needs to see to know.

It's not a one-sided thing.

In fact, Stiles is starting to wonder just when did Derek fall for him?

Derek takes a moment. A long one. But he's very certain when he says, "I'm falling in love with you too."

A smile grows on Stiles' face and then he tackles Derek, pinning him down on the blanket. He hovers for a moment and quietly asks, "May I kiss you?"

"Yes," Derek breathes, and then they're kissing and it's everything and more that Stiles has dreamed of.

♞♚♞♚

"Alright," Lydia says at the next pack meeting. "I don't think we need to have Stiles and Derek on a week off together. I think - "

"We're together," Stiles announces.

The whole pack turns to look at him. Stiles snuggles up against Derek, slipping his fingers in between Derek's.

"So, please, do not change the duty schedule because we now have couple privilege."

Derek snorts, burying his face into Stiles' neck.

Everyone starts talking at once, but Stiles doesn't care. He turns to Derek and whispers, "Wanna get out of here?"

"The meeting just started," Derek whispers back.

"So?"

"Case made," Derek says, and then they're slipping out while everyone keeps discussing who knew what when.

♞♚♞♚

[sunbadger]

Dalia Bauer - doomed by fate

"I’m not sure I'd want to start a family, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like. Or, more realistically - just to see the world next year."

The promising candidate who would later be sacrificed to pass her power down to Bertholdt.

A young girl with an absent father and a mother sentenced to Paradis, holding no hope of survival without the role of a warrior. A spreading infection in her mother’s leg and lack of funds led them to the streets, where necessities were scarce. Their only consistent supply of food came from abandoned plates in restaurants, the garbage outside, and rare gifts from passersby. A bad habit, partly led by greed, partly led by desperation, led them to a life of thievery. The young girl became a con artist and a thief, granting herself some coins, luxuries and jewelry from unsuspecting crowds.

It was no surprise when her mother was arrested, followed shortly by herself. They had gotten just a little too greedy, a little too desperate, and stolen more and more accessories of gold and silver. For a few weeks before the arrest, her mother was able to afford new rags and fresh food, and even made them feel pretty with rings on their fingers and necklaces hanging down their collarbones. For a short while, the young girl was treated to a taste of freedom - one which she would never forget.

Dalia never saw her mother be turned into a titan. An older man dressed in uniform had stopped her as she waited in line to be transported to the outer wall. He was rough with her, and both Dalia and her mother were screaming to give her back, but once she had calmed down, he dropped her off at the military training facility. Like a disposable doll, she was thrown to the ground, dirtying the clothes her mother had gotten for her. She was not very talkative, and refused to speak to the general - but the cop must have put in a good word for her, or perhaps provided an ultimatum. Since she was so young, she would be easy to train for the new warrior program, and if it didn’t work out, there was no such thing as too many suicide bombers. Since she lacked both the strength and the motivation to fight back, the choice was simple. The general took her in and told her to show him what she was capable of. 

Looking back, Dalia believes that cop was attempting to save her life - and like the survivor she is, she took the chance. She never had much worth fighting for other than the, perhaps egotistical, desire to stay alive. It rarely crossed her mind that she was training to take the lives of other beings. Her eyes were constantly focused on what was ahead, whether it was the track she had to run or the targets she had to shoot, the ceremony granting her the Colossal, and the fields she had to burn. When she transformed, the grass turned black, falling trees turned to ashes, and the ground warped under her feet. Entire ecosystems being destroyed meant that a roof, a warm dinner and a soft bed were awaiting her return. It was horrifying - but also so beautiful.

Next time I will write more about her life as a warrior and what led to her death, as well as the AU where she survives and goes on to infiltrate the walls. This is a draft so nothing is really final. Her character has some inconsistencies and things that could be improved upon which i'll think about. (but this is mainly just for fun, of course). In the future I'll consider writing a fanfiction featuring her.

thanks for reading if you got this far lmao! feel free to leave some feedback.

[hitogatarock]

Takt op. Intermezzo

01. — Der Wille zur Macht

translated title: The Will to Power

original link: Takt op. Destiny special Intermezzo

Next : (2) Confidential Audio Recording

——————————————————————

It's now December. The city is decorated with trees and illuminations everywhere. I heard that music used to be played in the streets, but I can't afford to be extravagant. I was able to celebrate Christmas again this year. Last year, I made a cake with Cosette and we brought it to Takt's house and ate it together. I feel like a lot of time has passed since then.

The series of disturbances at the New York Symphonica were supposed to have ended with the disappearance of the huge Black Night Iron Meteorite that had been ejected from the underground. However, for those of us who were involved, nothing was over. The rescue of Takt and the search for Destiny. She couldn't be found after a long search. However, there was one thing that remained. Takt's right hand was holding something like a dog tag. Yes, she had kept her promise to me and returned Takt. Takt, whose expression was very peaceful but didn't look as if he was alive, was brought back to life by Lotte's proper treatment. However, it seems that he will never recover unless I let him sleep for a very, very long time from now on. I had a similar experience when I forgot to eat and sleep and kept playing the piano... I feel a bit nostalgic.

New York Symphonica was close to total destruction. It would take a considerable amount of time to regain its previous functions, and a drastic reorganisation was also to take place. In order to provide treatment in fully equipped facilities, Takt will soon be transferred to another location.

But they're not going to make it public. The fact that Sagan, the Grand Maestro, was the mastermind behind it all. Papa told me secretly that the Symphonica still insisted on releasing the facts. That's why there was a lot of confusion. In other words, the so-called... political settlement. What happens when a world that relies on the Symphonica loses faith in the Symphonica? It's not hard to imagine. A divided world is the result. A large amount of Black Night Iron Meteorite stored underground went out of control for unknown reasons. The Symphonica cured the situation on its own. That's how it happened. Only the fact that many lives were lost in the process was reported in a nonchalant manner.

Thus, the hero passes away a hero, and the unknown musician quietly goes to sleep, and so on.

"...It's unreasonable."

The words leaked out unintentionally.

Yes, it was all unreasonable. Before and after I left on my journey. The musician's name is not a word, but a word that comes to mind when you think about it.

Titan told us about Lenny. I think Lenny, too, was constantly defying unreasonableness. He never pretended to be, but deep down inside he must have had a flame burning with anger as its source.

Takt, too. Takt has also been fighting against unreasonableness for a long time. Where and what should I hit them with? What should I do to convey my anger? Because he didn't know that, he kept on playing music for a long time. I kept shouting out loud to the world that had stopped music that it was wrong.

No matter how much we are almost ostracised by the world. No matter how many heart-breaking and painful realities he was bombarded with.

He never stopped playing music. He tried to keep the music alive. Even if he lost his life, the music would remain. As he showed it to himself, to others and to the world.

Suddenly, the tune is deflected. A melody that perhaps no one else in the world knows.

"I wish I'd listened to that one... properly."

When I was sorting through Tamt's room, I found some music sheets. The sheets were wrinkled, the notes were scribbled in a mess and there were no numbers or tempo markings, it looked like a scribble. But there was indeed Takt's music there. The title of the piece, scribbled in a particularly messy manner, which he did not intend for anyone to read.

" With Love "

When I saw it, I was shocked. It was as if I had been hit on the head.

Takt was the last one I met. He met love and weaved a sound. I was convinced that it was 'it' that I had to leave behind for the world.

The memories of him up to now come flooding back into my groggily shaking brain.

He used to stay at home and play the piano all the time. He met Cosette and gradually regained his emotions. He mourns for Cosette and weeps. As he continues his journey, he begins to face the world. He decides to make a decision for the sake of music.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done this far."

I'll never forget it. I'll never ever forget those cruel words. Those are the words that I never want to hear again. Those are words that can become a curse. But, at that time I had no strength and there were nothing else for me that I could do. All I could do is to shut his mouth up.

He had found love. Cosette already knew about it. And I'm sure Destiny had already understand it as well.

Cosette. Destiny. My darling sisters who left without saying goodbye.

I am the only one. I am the only one left behind.

Then, what can I do with what is left of me? My resolve was made then.

The performance begins. I can't stay in sorrow forever. I must fight.

The music has not returned yet. What was it that they risked their lives to protect? I must show them. I must deliver it.

Music to him who will eventually wake up. I will go on ahead. To deliver music, and to convey love.

Even if he has forgotten everything. Even if he has mourned everything.

Show must go on, because the music will live on.

——————————————————————

[iamanathemadevice]

Wherein I whine about Star Trek: Picard

Even though it's a show I actually adore. (I'm going to do my best to avoid spoilers here, but I'll put a cut in for the nervous)

Look, they do a great job on so many things. The staging and costuming and music are just fantastic. They clearly know their Trek canon.

But the script writers have been seriously handwaving a lot of shit. For example:

They never address something incredibly important and obvious about time travelling that far into the past - language.

We can just about understand written English from 2-3 centuries ago, but even then we struggle with slang and abbreviations unless we're scholars. Look at the rhymes in Shakespeare that no longer work. The jokes. The puns. We can't understand Shakespeare as written without help and study. Can you imagine trying to understand what was being said if we were just hearing it?

Have you ever look at newsreels from last century? Ever noticed how differently your own country's accents sounded back then? And that's only a hundred years ago. Four hundred years ago, a time traveller from our time would be almost unintelligible to a nominally English speaking person. Four hundred years from now, the same will be true. Not just because of our accents, but because our entire vocabulary will have changed. (Can you imagine how many more 'foreign' words and expressions and tics English is going to pinch in the next 400 years, considering how much it's changed just since the internet was born?)

Rios's conversation with the ICE guard is amusing, but ridiculous. He should not be able to make an idiomatic, rapid-fire monologue at anyone at this period, because no matter how much time he spends on a holodeck, he won't sound like a 21st century Chilean man either in accent or vocabulary. Rios is a starship captain, not a linguist or a historian. This stuff needs work if you want to do it right.

If you're going to do a time travel arc, you really can't afford to be this sloppy.

2. Smoking at a gala.

An indoor gala. Smoking a fucking cigar at an indoor gala. No.

I mean, I knew this and I'm Australian, FFS

3. Does anyone on that scriptwriting team know anything about how they choose astronauts?

They're filming in Canada - perhaps they might have heard of Chris Hadfield? He wrote a whole damn book about becoming an astronaut. Suffice to say, the process is arduous, and amongst other things, thoroughly weeds out the neurotic and uncertain from a vast field of talent. So a particular plot twist about the future of humanity resting on a person who is depressed, a heavy drinker, and generally not in good mental health, being able to complete a multiyear mission to the outer reaches of the solar system is...silly, to say the least.

Star Trek isn't as silly as Dr Who (which isn't science fiction in any defensible definition of the term) and I'm happy to sit back and suspend disbelief with the best of them - until it starts doing stuff which I know about (like history and language and how it changes) and then I have to take notice of the nonsense, and I don't like that :(

I'd much rather concentrate on the bisexual ladies in love, and Rios being delicious, and the wonderful, wonderful costumes and music. So if the scriptwriters could start paying some goddamn attention to the details, I would appreciate it.

[thoroughlyskeptic]

“We both went to the London premiere but not together. We weren’t engaged and there was no reason to sort of show off to the world." USA Today November 18, 2014.

I'd like the Nannies to express their opinion about this please. With the full understanding that no person or persons on this side of the computer can control, sway or change Ben's mind or heart. That's not the point. The point is to understand what you believe is the psychological reasoning behind the decision to use that phrasing with his pregnant, soon to be fiancé and soon to be wife and soon to be mother of his child. According to People magazine and the Daily Mail, and those, including nannies, who said they have seen a Birth Certificate, Christopher Carlton Cumberbatch was born on June 1st.  Dislike it all you want, having a birthday makes it possible, and given human nature, likely that people will speculate on the date of conception, especially considering the facts, including the timing with regards to the Oscars and the shotgun* nature of the wedding. If it was a full term no problem pregnancy, 40 weeks, not under or over due, she was 2 and a half months pregnant when the above statement was made.

This story you nannies have built up, that Ben and Sophie have a true perfect love forever, that they never fight, how do you reconcile that with the whole unvarnished truth? Unless Sophie was totally gormless, she must have known she was pregnant. If Ben was dating her and truly in love, he would have known she was pregnant. They married three months later. He was in true love with the women he married, the woman he proposed to, whom he didn't mention by her name in interviews, and didn't want to walk down the red carpet to his movie premiere with the woman making his dreams come true, his dreams of being a father.

Now you are going to yell about things like privacy. That what he said was meant to protect Sophie and hide the pregnancy. I think anyone who is at all skeptical could answer that one. No one eager for privacy about their personal life talks to reporters, USA Today, or People magazine at all, let alone does a wedding dress spread in Vogue. I'm surprised it was in the print edition, and not the digital only. After all, maternity bridal gowns aren't really "en vogue". The long and short of it is that photo spread was well positioned and they managed to photograph her to look like she wasn't 5 1/2 months pregnant, perhaps to make that style of gown more in demand. Shotgun weddings tend to favor empire waists and lots of flounce to disguise the bump.

Now, I know the next question from the peanut gallery will be, why bring this up? They have stayed together, have two more kids together and it has been x and whatever years.

Here are several responses. Pick one or more in any combination.

1. Our feelings don't have to be right to be valid.

2. You have the option to object to our perfectly valid emotional reaction.

3. We have a right to block you from our page. You also have this right.

4. If you object to our opinions, you do not have to read our blogs or interact with us in anyway. If you are constantly feeling harassed because you see content from skeptics, BLOCK THEM, don't blame them! If the worker at Sea World handed you a poncho to protect yourself and you didn't use it, you can't blame the Shamu if you get splashed.(Sorry for the outdated and insensitive analogy but I wanted something easy to understand. I disagree whole hearted with the captivity of intelligent creatures be they aquatic or terrestrial mammals.)

5. We are valid in our own right as people. If you attack us on a personal level, we will defend ourselves and we have the right to do so.

6. As long as we do not interact with anyone,(i.e. Ben, Sophie, Karon, his management, etc) we can say whatever we want on our own blogs. The majority of us have never met him and don't want to. As far as we are concerned, Ben is an imaginary person that we are writing as a character for a long running D&D campaign.

7. However, the same does not apply to you. Many of you have gone out of your way to meet him. You believe that by sending hate to skeptics or doxxing them you will earn validation from him. I worry that some of you are on the brink and if he doesn't acknowledge you one time, or does something that you can't justify with your world view, one of you will snap. You think this about us, I know. But the nannies on the whole have much more emotional investment in Ben's personal life. (As a for instance, The skeptics call him Ben because at least one nanny has said that, "we don't know that he prefers that nickname so we should use his full name" another said "nicknames are for close friends and family and we aren't those, so we should call him by his full name or Mr. Cumberbatch." If Ben even has two thoughts about any skeptic or nanny(especially how they address him in blog posts) for the entire year I'd be surprised. Unless, of course, it when he has to think about you lot bothering him, stalking him, and generally making a nuisance of yourselves.

******

I also know you complain that the skeptics don't "love" Ben in every thing he does and don't always watch all his work. The gatekeeping within the fandom, not include how you discount and loathe the skeptics, is extreme. Fans must be all or nothing.

1. Not everyone has the money to participate fully, whether that is buying movies, theater tickets, merchandise or going to conventions to hear him speak. Disregarding fans based on their ability to participate, especially due to financial inability, is gatekeeping and it is the worst kind of gatekeeping. You are saying the only good fans are rich ones.

2. Generally the nannies viewpoint is Eurocentric as well. Some people have jobs, have children to raise, have other things that take priority over "being a fan". Being a fan requires time that poorer countries, less developed countries generally lack. Some countries censor the movies that are shown. Doctor Strange was not shown in the East the way it was in the west and unless you can afford to travel to another location,(Say the London Premiere that didn't quite happen and the nannies were upset because he didn't preform like a good little monkey in a suit for them?) you are made to feel left out by the uber fans.

3. Some people have emotional triggers. Ben's roles tend more towards the dramatic then comedic. Drama can deeply affect those who have experienced similar situations. He has been in movies dealing with Cancer, Childhood Abuse, Incest, Slavery, War, Pedophilia, have I missed any major triggers?

4. He is also in the MCU and the Hobbit movies which have flashing lights which makes them inaccessible to those who have seizures and migraines. Another oft used gatekeeping tactic in fandoms is the restriction of accessibility. In the US, there are compliancy laws for disabilities(although they aren't always obeyed) but smaller, poorer countries may not have accessible movie theaters. Fans with disabilities can not travel as easily as more abled fans. Smaller independent films Benedict made at the beginning of his career may not have captions or audio description or may be unafforable for those that have medical costs to consider.

5. There is also gender bias in the Cumberbatch fandom. One need only look at their chosen name, Cumberbitches. I can think of 15 more gender neutral terms off the top of my head but men and those who identify as male were inherently excluded from the fandom. I can think of ONE male fan. Maybe one that writes under his wife's account as to not get ridiculed. Because they would be ridiculed by the nannies, that is who they are, the "gatekeepers of the fandom", deciding who is worthy to be a Ben fan.

They have made fun of fans before. Not just skeptics. People they don't like or don't want in their little clique. So the majority of Ben's fans are middle aged rich white women. Not because that's who he's trying to reach as an audience but because that is who his uber fans allow to worship him.

If you are in need of examples of how out of control the uber fans are take the following for an example.

Someone did a nice tweet about other actors. It had nothing to do with Ben, although it did feature Tom Hiddleston and other Marvel actors. The ubers starting by saying Ben wasn't listed, then jumped into, well, a screenshot is worth a thousand words.

As they say, that escalated quickly...

*Shotgun Wedding is an American term for a marriage precipitated by the pregnancy. It comes from an American colloquialism, termed as such based on a stereotypical scenario in which the father of the pregnant bride-to-be threatens the reluctant groom with a shotgun in order to ensure that he follows through with the wedding.

[catcze]

Oh, Catte, my beloved... The bracelet is so beautiful. Goodness, did I cry when I took it out of the envelope. It's almost as beautiful as you are, I love it so much! I'm never ever taking this off. Oh starlight I'm so happy, you may as well have just proposed! I love you so so much, thank you💜💜💜

I'm glad Cyno is doing well for himself these days! It's not really that complex of a spell, simple transmutation really, but I'm sure he didn't want to overwhelm you. He may not talk a lot but trust me; he cares. I should write him sometime, if only so the next time an emergency arises he won't think I only remember he exists when I need his help, hehe... I'm joking of course, he's not the kind of person to care. I do still owe him a favor though. Two, now that he's gone out of his way to teach my girlfriend magic, and specifically for helping you make me this wonderful present. Send along my thanks please, but please don't mention that I said I'd write him, just in case I somehow forget to. You know me, heh..

Also I'm a little surprised to hear that name again! Collei was quite the visitor when she was here a few years ago, it's a long story, and one I doubt very much she'd want me to tell. Suffice to say she and Amber are good friends, but I'm sure she already asked you about her as soon as you mentioned Mondstadt. I'm so relieved to hear she's safe, and studying medicine no less! Tell her I'm proud of her. She'll do great things in her life.

I must admit I'm slightly bothered to hear that so many scholars accosted my poor babygirl to ask if I'd return, I'm so sorry darling. If they give you any more trouble, oh I'll come visit alright. To dispense punishment(although I'd definitely grab some food on the way as we left). Speaking of food, that's so sweet of you to offer to learn the local cuisine just for me~ you're so thoughtful, it's one of the many many things I love about you. My reputation around the school is honestly the only accomplishment you'll find though sweetheart. I wasn't really all that social there, aside from talking to the professors and scholars. I couldn't afford to procrastinate if I wanted to learn everything I could. Funny, that sounds completely unlike me, now doesn't it~ Those lectures can be tiresome at first, did they provide you with the appropriate reading materials, or are you only listening? I still have my copy of the first semester alchemy textbook--it's only about 800 pages, but they're packed to the brim with knowledge. I still reference it sometimes.

Like I mentioned though, most of my time in Sumeru was spent at the Academy or at the local restaurants. If you wanted food recommendations, those I can provide, but unfortunately I won't be of much use otherwise. Sorry cutie~

[the next page of the letter is a list of local restaurants, many with recommended dishes written next to them. There's also a fair number of heart shapes and "I love you"s doodled around the edges of the paper]

I hope you'll try at least some of those and tell me what you think. The more you talk about it honestly, the more it's beginning to grow on me. I do want to go back and visit with you, my love. I miss it, even if I don't want to admit that. It would be so much fun to sight see with you, being able to just meander aimlessly through the city, not a care in the world, and with you by my side... That sounds amazing. I'd want nothing more. Perhaps for our honeymoon~? [the last sentence of the paragraph is crossed out with a single streak of ink cutting through it]

Your photos are all amazing, darling. I just wish I had as many to send you in return, but unfortunately I don't own a camera, nor can I afford to leave the library long enough to travel to Liyue and buy one. That being said, Albedo does have one, and he already took that first photo. Darling, I'm curious, and please, *please* say no if it would bother you even slightly. If I... Perhaps wanted to take some... Pictures, just for your enjoyment~ ...would you mind if I had Albedo continue to serve as the photographer? I want my baby to be thinking of me, especially since I'm not there to pleasure you myself~💜 again, PLEASE say no if you'd have any problem with that. Or I could ask Jean if that would be better. I just want to treat my princess to some candy~

That line is going to have me up all night, I swear. I do wish I was there for you in every sense, but goodness does my heart ache for you. I miss the way you taste so much, my precious little munchkin~ you're not going to sleep at all the first night you're back in my arms, I hope you know that. I'm going to edge you so hard you'll cry for me, hehe~ I'm a little peeved you didn't take notice of my comment about punishing you! There will be ropes involved when you return to me. Just the way you always like it, cutie~ tell me, how bad do you miss me? Miss my tongue you love so much~? Don't worry baby--you'll get everything you could ever want for when you come home. I can't wait to taste you~ goodness, excuse me a moment baby... I need to scratch an itch before I finish writing this letter, hehe...~

Okay, I'm back. That was quite the itch, it just kept coming back~ that picture you sent with this letter may have helped with that... Celestia, you're so so beautiful, my rose..~ I love you so much.

Where was I... Ah yes. I'm very glad you've been eating and sleeping properly. Such a good girl you always are~💜 and don't worry; I'm taking care of myself as well. I've been becoming more adjusted to the late nights lately, since your letters often arrive around this hour(it's 11:30 right now, although up until a page ago it had been 10:15, hehe...). I don't mind it at all, since you know I love to sleep in anyway. I love reading your letters sweetheart. They truly do carry your love across the distance. I'm so happy that you're my partner. I love you so so much. I reread your letters every day, they put such a smile on my face.

Also, what's this about ideas you're having ever since I mentioned the uniform? Tell me!! Pretty please~? 💜

I'm going to call my letter to a close here, before I end up needing a bigger envelope, hehe~ I love you so much, starlight. Please take care, and I hope you're well rested when you read this. Hopefully I can put a smile on your beautiful face. I just wish I was there to see it. I love you so much, take care and write me back when you can, promise~?

Yours Always,

- Lisa 🌺💜

Milddd nsfw here muaH <33

Hi, love, I’m so happy that you like your gift! I love you very much as well— hopefully it can give you comfort on some particularly hard nights where I cannot be with you, dearest. Sort of like a reminder that although I cannot be there with you in person, you always carry a piece of my heart with you, you know?

I’ll be sure to relay your message to Cyno and Collei! They were rather surprised when they found out I was your girlfriend, haha! In a good way, of course— they’ve been great company so far.

And don’t worry about the other scholars, Lisa dear. I can handle them plenty fine. I’m sure they’ll go running if I even so much as imply that you wouldn’t be pleased with them for their behavior, my love. They wouldn’t want to mess with one of the best sorcerers to ever roam those halls, you know?

Regarding the lectures, they offered to loan me some textbooks actually, but I had to turn them down since, well, I am just an observer, and carrying so many books with me to and fro would weigh me down. Still, although I sometimes get confused while I observe, It’s such a fun and interesting experience! I can’t say I’m remembering every bit of knowledge I hear, but I’ve definitely learned at least a thing or two.

Just yesterday, there was a bit of a lull in lectures that I was attending— something about one of the scholars who had agreed to host me taking their class out to fieldwork, and I was unable to accompany them. So I took the time to check out some of the restaurants you listed for me! I went to just one of them for lunch, since I didn’t want to get too full throughout the day, and I enjoyed it very much!! I included a picture of one of the dishes you noted for me (a best seller of theirs, apparently) and I didn’t regret purchasing it at all. It was so good! In my free time, it’s one of the recipes that I hope to familiarize and bring back home to you— I think you’ll rather like it, especially since there’s no meat. Hopefully I’ll get good enough at making it that you’ll be able to savor the flavor too!

Though, I don’t mind either if you’d rather return with me next time, and we can have a dinner date here? I really like the ambiance of the place— its both romantic and private. And the view from the balcony here is absolutely magical. Or we can maybe visit a couple of the other restaurants you’ve recommended to me? I doubt that I’ll be able to try all of them this time, and being able to experience it with you would make the experience a million times better.

Also, regarding the photos you mentioned— well, I’m fine with it if you are. As long as you’re comfortable with whoever is photographing you love, then it’s perfectly alright with me. Besides, I know that we’re devoted to each other, so there’s no cause for me to be uncomfortable 💞 If you so wish to grant me such photos, I eagerly await them, love! They’re not the same as you being here, of course, but I’m sure they could help me with how much I miss you.

And ah, sending such things only makes me miss you more! Perhaps I should take a good, long rest before I come back to Mondstadt, if you plan to keep me up all night. And who says I didn’t notice your comment? Perhaps I was just teasing you by keeping quiet about it, especially if I know what’s awaiting me back home. And yes, I miss you so so much, I miss your tongue and you lips, your touch on my skin, the way you hold me and make me feel so good each and every time— Love, really, if your intention with that letter was to get me all worked up, then safe to say you’ve succeeded. My, I doubt I’m going to be getting any sleep tonight, thinking of you.

And regarding that bit about the Academy uniform… well, I might have found a local seamstress who was willing to make me a version of it, tailored to my measurements. It’s not ready quite yet, but hopefully I can send you some photographs soon 💞

By the way, love, there’s no need to have to wait up for my letters, not if you’re not getting enough sleep! I don’t mind waiting a bit for your reply as long as I know you’re sleeping on time. I worry about you as much as you worry about me, so for both your sake and mine, promise me you’ll get enough sleep? Either way, though, I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself, dearest. It makes me happy, knowing that you and the others are doing well. I love you very, very much you know? Please continue to stay safe, dearest, and know that I’m always missing you.

And, well, regarding a proper proposal, though I can’t say I haven’t thought of it before (how could I not? I can fully envision spending the rest of my life with you) I would much prefer if I were able to give you the ring and ask you in person, love. That being said, take the bracelet as a promise that I’ll return to you soon— and hopefully with a ring that I think you’ll like and a question that I plan to ask you.

All the best wishes, dearest. I love you very much 💞

—Catte 💞

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Would you mind if I requested another Alfie I love the way you write. A bit of an angsty one were Alfie is mean to her at the start she could own a little shop and he comes in saying she owes him money for protection if she wants to set up shop on his turf. She is afraid of him and is always in a panick to pay. Then he starts to soften to her and a relationship begins. I'd like some sexy time if you can can add it in. But if it doesn't work for you that's ok.☺️

//I love soft Alfie, but we can never forget his gangster roots. Because DAMN does he look hot doing that crime thing. 

           Independence was always a scary thought for Cora. But it was something she always desired. Her mother was certain she needed to be married before Cora left the house. But she didn’t see herself marrying any time soon. She wanted to make it out in the world on her own.

            So, she saved and bought a storefront in Camden Town. She began to put together a boutique. But she had yet to open before someone came barging in as if they owned the place.

            Cora poked her head out from the storage room. “Sorry, we’re not open…yet.” She felt her voice fade away when she saw the man entering.

            “Cora Hyde, that right?”

            She startled. “Uh…yes, I’m sorry, do I know you?”

            “Nah, but you will. Heard from a little bird that there was a new shop opening up. And the owner ain’t come to me to pay protection money.”

            “But I…” Cora shook her head. “Who are you?”

            He just chuckled and continued into the half-empty store, his cane tapping against the floor. He looked up from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. “Where are me manners? Alfie Solomons.” He introduced.

            “Cora…well you already know my name.” The young woman felt like backing away from him as he moved closer but she found she couldn’t move a muscle under his stare.

            “Yeah, m’surprised the person who sold you the shop didn’t give you the lay of the land, love. Surprised he didn’t mention where you’re setting up shop.” He looked around, even though there wasn’t much to look at as Cora was still getting things in place.

            “I uh…” She swallowed, still completely perplexed by the man.

            “See, you’re in my territory.” He placed a hand to his chest, showing the multiple rings he had on his fingers. “And shops in this area, pay me a bit of money so they’re under my protection.”

            So, this was what independence was like. Cora shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Solomons but I think you have me mistaken. I don’t need protection…I’m not even sure what I would need protection from.”

            “Oh, anything, anything. Fires, big scary men, yeah, robbers. I’ll take care of everything. But I don’t work for free, right, I mean you don’t work for free and neither do I. Simple business, innit?” He finally stepped right in front of the counter. “S’business. You pay me for protection.”

            “But I…”

            “You’re new to the area so let’s call it…eight pounds a month.”

            Cora’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Eight? Are you mad, you have no right storming in here demanding money like you own the place. I bought this store…”

            “Yeah, the last shopkeeper was a pain in me arse. Now that you mention it. He refused to pay too. Said something similar, I had no right to ask for money, right. Want to know where he is now?” A dark look passed over his face. “He’s in the river, love. All he had to do was pay for protection and he’d still be alive.”

            Cora was almost trembling with fear. She had no way of knowing if this man was just blowing smoke. But the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t joking around.

            “You seem like a nice girl, not looking for trouble, aye? Cut ya a deal, seven-pound a month. First of every month.”

            Seven pounds. How would Cora be able to get seven pounds every month? She hadn’t even made a single cent from the store yet and was already strapped for money. But what else was she to do? “I don’t know if I’ll have the money in time. I don’t have much…”

            “First of the month.” Alfie echoed before striding out of the store, leaving no room for debate.

            Cora ran a hand through her hair in a harried state. “What am I going to do?” She whispered.

 ~~~~~

            The first of the next month came much faster than expected. Cora had tried, she really had. But between paying rent and trying to afford the bare minimums to survive, she came up very short of the seven pounds Alfie had insisted upon.

            She cringed when she saw his dark, broad figure coming into the store. “Mr. Solomons…”

            “First of the month.” He announced as if she wasn’t fully aware. “Seven pounds is what I said, innit?”

            “Y-yes and I tried but I-I haven’t any money an-and I can’t afford to pay you or-or for anything.” Oh God, she couldn’t hold herself together. It was so scary being out in the world on her own. What the hell was she thinking trying to be so headstrong and independent? She began to weep, too broken to hold the tears back.

            Alfie stared at her for a moment. Very rarely did people cry in front of him, unless of course, they were begging for their lives at the end of a gun. But to see the young woman break down in front of him was unnerving, to say the least. “Alright, alright. Don’t hafta fucking cry.” He mumbled and reached into his coat for a handkerchief.

            “Please, I don’t want any tr-trouble.” Cora looked up to see the small piece of cloth offered to her.

            Alfie looked disgruntled but perhaps it was to show the guilt he felt for being so intimidating to a young shopkeeper. “I don’t need seven pounds, right, I’ve got considerable means. Your seven pounds ain’t nothing to me.” He established so she didn’t consider him weak. It would do him no good if word got around that he was getting soft.

            She hesitantly took the handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “I don’t understand.” She hiccuped. “You said-”

            “Yeah, well fuck what I said, okay? Can change me own mind whenever I fucking want to and I just did.” He grumbled.

            She looked puzzled. He was a very confusing man, to say the least. His face had become less intimidating and she found him to be a bit more endearing. Crass and cranky, but less of a threat than he was before. “I don’t know if I should thank you or not.”

            “Don’t need thanks.” He saw her eyes were still welling up with tears. “Just stop crying.” Maybe he was softer on women. That much might’ve been true. But he couldn’t stand being the reason for her crying. Perhaps it had to do with comforting his sister when they were younger. Comforting her in their family’s darkest moments.

            Cora dabbed at her eyes again before going to give him back the handkerchief.

            “Keep it, s’alright.” He said. “I’ll be checking in from time to time. Just making sure no one else is giving you trouble.” The words came out before Alfie could really realize what he was saying and why. With no required payments on the table, realistically, the two would never have to cross paths again. But, there was a softness to her that was so rare in his life. So rare in Camden. A deep part of him wanted to cling to that softness, to have some sort of humanity in his life. Something nice amongst the blood and rum. Something nice.

 ~~~~

            True to his word, Alfie checked in on Cora’s shop with increasing frequency. It started out with Alfie asking if anyone had given her a hard time around Camden Town. And if so, he’d like the name of said people. He wanted to make sure her landlord was being fair. Wanted to make sure she was getting enough business.

            Initially, Cora found it very strange that the man who had come barging in asking for eight pounds a month, suddenly had a vested interest in her business. It would’ve made her suspicious if it hadn’t been for his gentler side.

            Of course, this side only came out after a couple of months of knowing one another. Alfie brought his dog, Cyril, along one day, much to Cora’s delight.

            “Oh, Alfie, he’s gorgeous,” Cora remarked as she stroked Cyril’s smooth coat.

            “Gorgeous.” Alfie scoffed. “Yeah, he’s fucking gorgeous when he’s taking up half the bed and wakes me up at the crack of dawn.”

            She laughed softly. It was something new that she realized about him. Cyril wasn’t some guard dog or a prop to look more intimidating, he was a companion. Someone that Alfie was fond of. So, he wasn’t heartless.

  ~~~~~~         

            It came to be that nearly a year after she set up shop, she found herself waiting for Alfie to drop by. Days seemed more mundane when he didn’t pop in for a quick chat. But it seemed he was firmly standing behind a line. Even if Cora dropped hints that she perhaps was interested in getting to know him better, he didn’t respond. She was starting to think he really was just being friendly. Strange behavior for a gangster, but she wasn’t going to assume things.

            To get some closure, Cora steeled herself and asked.

            “Would you ever want to see me outside of here?” She asked him after their conversation about dog breeds ran dry.

            “I see you outside.” His brow furrowed.

            It was true, sometimes they ran into each other on the street. “I mean, like out. At a pub or something.” She clarified shyly.

            Alfie swallowed. He knew he was treading dangerous waters. Damned as he was, he was looking for the outcome. But had always tried to hold himself back. A girl like Cora could do so much better than him. It was wishful thinking to believe it would ever work out. But he was a sinful creature and couldn’t stay away. “We could. Didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me out in public.”

            Cora looked appalled. “What gave you that idea?”

            “Well, love, you know my reputation.”

            “Your first impression with me wasn’t stellar but you’ve only ever treated me nicely ever since.” She reminded him.

            “You’re braver than I thought.” He mused. “Much braver. Here I was thinking you were a little mouse, ‘fraid of everything.”

            She shrugged. “I don’t think I have reason to be afraid of you.”

            That’s when Alfie knew she had his number. There was no pulling the wool over her eyes. “Alright, I’ll take you out then.”

            “Pick me up tonight?”

            “Eight o’clock.”

 ~~~~~

            Cora got some jitters when she started seeing Alfie. She was worried he might change for the worse and she would be in a tough situation. But he never did. If anything, he only got kinder and opened up more to her.

            But then she realized people stared at her when she walked down the streets of Camden Town. No one would talk when she was nearby, lest Alfie Solomons rain down hell upon them. But they did talk when she was out of earshot.

            The woman who had tamed Alfie Solomons. What a mystery. What a scandal.

            But the hype faded after a couple of years. Meanwhile, Alfie and Cora only fell deeper in love. It was a far cry from their first interaction, which Cora sometimes teased him about.

            One morning, Alfie came into the store and began locking the door and pulling down the shutters.

            Cora, who was hanging up some clothes looked alarmed. “Alfie, what on Earth are you doing?”

            “You, miss,” He began striding toward her once the shop was all secured and the outside world was locked away. “Left me bed this morning before I even woke. Leaving me without a proper goodbye.” He scolded.

            “I left you a note.” She said, at least relieved there was nothing serious going on and he was just being dramatic.

            “A fucking note.” He humphed. “A proper goodbye, not a note.”       

            Cora rolled her eyes, amused at how bratty he was sometimes. “So, you’re driving business away from my shop because I left without a good morning kiss?” She rounded the counter with her arms crossed.

            “Cheeky, as always.” He picked her up without warning and sat her on the counter.

            “Alfie!” She giggled, a bit taken aback by his sudden movement.

            “You want a little taste of what I were gonna give you this morning?” He asked. His hands traveled down her back, starting to undo the buttons of her dress.

            “Well, if I had known you had something planned, I might’ve stayed…” She leaned forward to kiss him.

            “Well, plans can be changed a bit.” He murmured between kisses. “Always dreamt ‘bout fucking you in me office but here’ll do just fine.”

            “Here?” Cora asked, her eyes widening. But she couldn’t deny that the thrill made her stomach knot up.

            He studied her face. “That’s a no then?” He assumed, ready to back off.

            “You’ll need to be quick.” She tugged his shirt so he would get closer. “I need to open back up to actually make some money.”

            Back in the mood, he gave her a smug smile. “I’ll take as long as I want with you, love. Ain’t rushing anything.”

            “You think money grows on trees?” She retorted, smoothing her hands over his chest, and ghosting her lips over his neck.

            “Ah, you know you’ll never go without. I wouldn’t let you.” He finished unbuttoning her dress. “Anything you want, I’ll get ya. Gonna bathe you in diamonds and sapphires.”

            His seductive tone was making Cora lose her mind. “Alright. Fuck reopening the store.” Alfie’s eyes lit up and he moved in to kiss her. But she stopped him with a finger to his lips. “But it’ll cost you eight pounds.” She teased.

            “Oh, you little minx.” He groaned. “I fucking love you.”

            She giggled and pulled him in for a kiss.

[str-spangled-banner]

After War — Bucky x OC

MASTERLIST  — ASK/REQUEST  — FAQs

Summary:  Ellie goes to the group therapy sessions Sam still holds whenever he finds time in between Avengers-business. Suffering from PTSD, she struggles to build a post-war life for herself as she can’t trust her brain to not mistake friend for foe. It’s at those sessions she meets Bucky who seems just as damaged by the past as she is.

Words: 3 272

Warnings: PTSD, talk of war, delusional episode

A/N: I... Ehm... I haven’t been on this blog for a year...soooo.... hyello. This is a super old thing I said I was gonna write in this post, and I guess better late than never? Right???

"My body is here, at home, but I still feel as if my mind is over there. I still feel as if I'm breathing in the dust underneath the burning sun, having to hold innocent at gunpoint because you have to determine everyone as the enemy. Sometimes it feels like if I reach over my shoulder, I'll feel the rifle right there, just waiting to be used..."

"Your mind is there." Sam agreed, attempting to gain eye contact with the young veteran who couldn't be much older than her, if not the same age. "Your mind is still at war, and it's your job to bring it peace. It is amazing that you can acknowledge the fact that you are not at war, Lawrence, because not all people can. Acknowledging your struggles is a far bigger step on the road to recovery than you can imagine. Being man enough to admit your own weaknesses is your first and greatest step..."

Sam's eyes scanned over everyone and stopped at her. "And being woman enough, of course." He added, causing a few of the other veterans to look her way. "What's your name?"

"Eleanor Conway, but I'd prefer Ellie, sir."

"How many tours?"

"I was First Sergeant in the Air Force, sir. Tours was not something I really did. I flew CSAR op's for three years before moving to Special Operations for my last two years of service."

"Combat search and rescue and special operations? That's some heavy weights you had to lift." Sam kept looking at her, trying to figure out what kind of a person she was. It was her first time in the meeting. He had received her order from court a week prior, giving her the option to either attend his group meetings or spend four months in jail, and that if she was to not show every Thursday night it was Sam's duty to report so.

From what the court order stated, Ellie had been approached by a police officer after she had been idle in her car at a traffic light for over ten minutes. When the officer had knocked on her window, she had tackled him to the ground by throwing the car door open, launched out of her car and on top of him, restraining his arms, only to fly off of him after a few seconds and apologize frantically. Sam didn't need to know much more than that to know that Ellie was yet another victim of post dramatic stress.

He never judged those who came in to the VA office for his sessions, but still he would never have thought she had been such a high rank in the Air Force, and even more surprised was he that she had been doing rescue missions, and special operations on top of that. Those were far from the easy services that the Air Force and the military provided. It would have been strange if anyone made it through all of that without at least a single scar, both physical and not.

"It was, but it's over now." She kept things short and cold, expressing her emotions being something strange and unpleasant in her world. Feelings makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability is not something you can afford when at war, that is something Ellie learned on her first day in the army, and it refuses to leave her mind no matter how much she tries to distance herself from her army days. That fear of being vulnerable latched onto her like a leech, even as war was in her rearview mirror.

"Do you still feel like your mind is at war?" Sam wondered, referring to the previous veteran who had spoken to the group about his struggles.

"No. I'm here." She assured, almost sounding defensive. Sam kept looking at her, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going, but it was clear to him that she wasn't very comfortable with being open, and he just so happened to catch a glimpse of the watch at his wrist after noticing that.

"Alright, that's about enough talking for one day, I'd say. Now, as you all know we work as a team around here, and so what we do is I will give you guys the next half hour to mingle around and find a partner. Why we do this is because it helps us to build a relationship with someone without having to explain or feel embarrassed about our past to them. It's good if you exchange numbers. If you’re having a rough day then maybe you could call your partner and just grab a beer at a local bar or something. It’s little things like that which will help you in the long run, perhaps especially a beer and watching the game on a flat screen." Sam smiled, earning a few laughs from around the room. "You make the rules. Either you want to let your partner into your life or you don't, and whatever path you choose is alright, but each week I'd like you to spend at least fifteen minutes talking to your partner and see how yore both doing, alright? Okay then, let's go. The coffee is going cold."

People began to rise from their seat, heading toward the table with coffee and some water. Ellie remained seated, looking over at the veterans who so easily began to talk amongst one another. They felt comfortable with their own kind, and even though they had never spoken to one another before, they all shared their military past, and somehow that seemed to be enough for them. She didn't recognize the same sense of familiarity. She had worked with others a lot in the Air Force, but when she was flying, she was alone in that plane.

Ellie turned to look down at her hands, but as her eyes moved across the circle of abandoned chairs, she noticed that one wasn't abandoned at all. About five seats to her left sat a man that she hadn't been able to see during the session. His hair was long and dark brown and tied into a knot underneath the rim of his baseball cap. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, and as she looked at him, he noticed her movement and looked over at her only to create eye contact.

Her eyes moved away lazily, not caring that the man clearly had caught her looking at him. She simply sunk down in her seat and let her head fall back, eyes glued to the ceiling. It didn't take long for her to hear the sound of a chair shrieking against the floor to her left and footsteps approaching. The man she had looked at for just a moment sat down in the chair next to her, eyes looking across the room whilst hers were still just looking up.

"I'm Bu-"

"Not interested in having a partner, or whatever." She interrupted him. "Find someone else."

"Who the hell says I want you as a partner?" The man questioned, causing Ellie to raise her head slightly and look at the guy who had no issue with being bold, it seemed.

"What do you want then?" She asked in confusion, not in a rude tone, but not in a particularly friendly one either.

"Well, I was about to introduce myself when some a-hole cut me off." He explained in a cold tone, looking rather annoyed by her dismissiveness. They both maintained eye contact, not saying anything for a few moments, before Ellie eventually reached her hand out towards him.

"Ellie, but you probably knew that already."

"Bucky." He took her hand and shook it when suddenly she noticed that his left hand was being concealed by a black glove. She could only assume he was covering a military injury, just like so many others do after they've served and just like a couple of others in the room. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I can't tell at the moment."

"Wow... I see how it is." Ellie pulled her hand back, tightened her lips and looked ahead of her instead of at him. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he could tell she understood the humor to his words. "It's cool. You don't need to like me."

"Oh if we're talking about liking you, then the answer is a definite no."

"Alright, ha ha... I get it, I was an ass for wanting you to leave me alone. Anything else?" She rolled her eyes back to him.

"We should exchange numbers." He changed the subject, taking her slightly by surprise. "And no, I'm not saying that because you're the only girl in here. I'm saying it because I know Sam better than anyone else here and I know he'll never leave me alone if I don't get one of these partners, nor you, for that matter."

"So we're forced to give our number out and socialize at this place?" She asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"No, but you'll have Sam begging you to do it every time you come here, which is twice a week last time I checked." Bucky placed his elbow on the back of his chair and laid his right leg over his left one leisurely.

"That does sound annoying, I'll admit." She confessed before looking over to Sam who stood against a wall in the room to get an overlook of everyone. He seemed to look towards the door in the moment, but Ellie could tell he was watching her and Bucky in the corner of his eye.

"Alright, give me your number." Ellie pulled her phone out from her pocket, unlocking it and opening up the contacts before handing it to Bucky.

"Really?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"You wanna suggest something and then question me when I agree to it?" She waved the phone in his face until he grabbed it. He wrote his number down and named himself before handing it back to her.

"I left my phone at home so if you could just write your number down..." His words faded out as he noticed the strange look she was giving him. "What? You're not gonna give me your number?"

"I have yours. That's more than enough." She shoved the phone back into her pocket, crossing her arms afterwards and leaning back into her seat.

Bucky had just been about to give a witty comment. Across the room, Sam had just been thanked by the veteran who had shared his story before Ellie. By the table of coffee, two men had just realized they both came from the same, small, town in the midwest. It was in that moment that a veteran across the busy room — military jacket clad in pins and medallions — moved underneath one of the ceiling lights. The lamp shone down onto one of his pins and the shiny surface reflected the light from above, flashing across Ellie's eyes.

Her mind stoped. Her entire body froze. It was as if this giant, complex, assembly, of cogs and wheels had been spinning perfectly when someone abruptly jammed a metal rod in the middle of it, causing the entire mechanism to jolt to a stop, jerking viciously as it was trying to spin but couldn't.

Ellie flew back with a vicious cry, the folding chair beneath her being kicked to the side. Her hands were up ahead of her as if she was holding a rifle and she aimed for the veteran with pins across his chest and arms. The chair she had kicked away then lost balance from the sudden move and folded together only to slam against the floor with a loud bang. She let out another panicked grunt and aimed at the ground where the still piece of furniture laid before aiming back to the veteran.

"Sniper... Sniper..." She repeated the words to herself over and over. Her hair hung messily over her face and only one eye was peaking out, her head leaning against her arm as if looking through the scope of the rifle she knew to be holding. In her mind, it wasn't imaginary. She could feel the weapon in her hand. She could feel the coolness of the metal trigger against the pad of her right index. The room wasn't a room anymore but it was the desert, and in the distance there was mountains. In a small crevasse in the midst of the orange rocks there was the reflection of a sniper rifle scope, and she had her eyes locked on the enemy.

"Out." Sam called, eyes open wide and locked onto Ellie. As no one moved, he turned his attention to the twenty people still in the room. "I said get out."

People started to hurry for the doors. The only one that didn't seem to be in a rush was Bucky, who still sat in the chair that had been right next to hers. He looked at Ellie with parted lips and an empty stare as her head snapped from side to side as she paranoiacally saw more and more threats around her. His eyes moved to Sam for a moment who was just pushing out the last people through the door.

"Barnes..." Sam said after spotting Bucky still seated only a few feet away from Ellie, nudging his head towards to doors he stood by, hoping Bucky would get the hint and leave with the others.

"What's happening to her?" Bucky asked, eyes still on Ellie, or whatever was left of her with them since her mind was clearly elsewhere.

"PTSD..." Sam sighed, walking quickly cross the room to retrieve his phone. He knew it said nothing in the court order or the emails he had gotten associated to Ellie's case about how to deal with her episodes, but even though he knew that he wanted to double check.

"No, this is something else..." Bucky disagreed. He knew PTSD, and whatever Ellie was going through was not that.

"She's only here because she goes to jail otherwise." Sam said in a stressed tone, knowing he probably shouldn't share the information with Bucky. "She attacked a police officer during one of her episodes and either she comes here to try and get better or she goes to jail."

"What is she doing?" Bucky rose from his seat, taking a few steps back to give Ellie some room.

"The damn girl has spent five years assigned to amongst the most dangerous fields within the military and she's not even twenty five years old. I think you can imagine a couple of things that might have traumatized her." Sam spat back, almost a little annoyed by how ignorant Bucky seemed, even if that wasn't the case.

"Ellie?" Sam gave up on the emails he had received about her and instead walked up to her slowly, watching her every move to see her reaction. Her head snapped to him, the lines seen through her scope crossing one another in the center of Sam's head. Although there was no weapon and Ellie was the only one who could see it, even Sam could tell that her aim was impeccable. "Eleanor?"

She was still just mumbling the word "sniper" on an endless loop, eyes glazed over as she was looking at something completely different than what both Bucky and Sam were.

"Ellie? Can you hear me?" Sam kept trying to get some sort of contact, but she was so lost in her mind she couldn't even hear him. Bucky was quiet and simply observing the situation before him. He did try and imagine what Ellie had been through, and none of it was pleasant. He had never heard of someone so young being such a high rank and doing such serious missions, and it threw him off a little. When he looked at her it was as if his brain couldn't puzzle her and her military background together. She just looked like a normal girl.

"Ellie you need to calm down, okay? You're in the VA office, back home. You're not in the military right now." Sam continued his efforts in vain. She couldn’t hear him. She wasn’t even in the same country as him in her head. She was alone. Over intercom she heard her commanding officer every now and then, and in the distance there was the enemy, but other than that she was on her own.

“Target in sight, awaiting orders.” Ellie continued to mumble. Sam had struggled to catch what she had said, but Bucky had picked up on her radio message that she believed she was sending her officer. It gave him an idea, one that he didn’t run by Sam before testing.

“Abort. For Sergeant Conway, I repeat, abort. Target misidentified. That’s one of ours, Sergeant. Stand down. Over.” Bucky spoke with a sternness in his tone and his eyes remained locked on Ellie the entire time. Sam glanced between Bucky and Ellie, both surprised by Bucky’s initiative but also impressed by his clever idea, even if he’d never admit that to him.

“Sergeant Conway reporting. Copy that, standing...” Ellie began to blink quickly and her eyes slowly lost that emptiness in them that they’d just had. “Standing down... I...”

“Ellie?” Sam tried again, his voice low and soft as not to startle her in any way. “Are you alright?”

“I’m...” She felt light headed. She felt really light headed. Her vision was blurry and the room seemed to fade between the actual room in the VA office and the desert, patches of the scorching mountains blotting her field of vision before they slowly began to grow dark and blank. The now black patches continued to expand and covered more and more of the room before her until finally, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body seemed to have been turned off by a switch.

“Oh shit-“ Sam dashed forward to catch her limp body but it was Bucky who just barely managed to catch her in time before she would have crumbled helplessly to the ground. He quickly laid her on the floor and backed away, not comfortable being so close.

“I’m calling 911.” Sam sighed as he felt the worry slowly subside, even if it was still very much present. With her passed out, at least she didn’t have to suffer through the pain of embarrassment he knew she undoubtedly would have when she realized they had witnessed an entire episode of hers.

She remained unconscious for the twenty minutes it took the ambulance to arrive, and she had yet to awake when the paramedics loaded her into the back and shut the doors behind them before driving her to the hospital. Sam and Bucky remained standing in silence on the steps leading up the the entrance of the office after they’d taken her away, neither of them knowing what to say after the whole ordeal. Eventually, Sam admitted to how tired he was and that he just wanted to go home. He told Bucky to take care before they parted ways. Sam got into his car and drove off whilst Bucky decided to walk to his tiny apartment. It was a thirty minute walk, but he felt like he needed it. Seeing Ellie like that had somehow rattled him up a bit and an uneasy feeling nestled in the back of his mind.

Her mind and actions were not her own after the war she’d been fighting—a situation he found all too familiar for his liking. Perhaps they weren’t as different as he had first thought, him and Ellie?

So, as “usual” (can I still say that after having been away for over a year?) I love hearing what you think, so please do share your thoughts!

[sulietsexual]

Hey! I read that you find Friends relatable now that you're older. How is the show relatable to you? Is it specific to your generation or to people your age? Because I don't think any of the friends' lives are relatable. In particular, the fact that they're always in relationships, or hooking with random people they meet wherever, is extremely weird to me. And let's not speak of how most of them have great jobs and no college degree or higher schooling... Anyway, I'd love to read your thoughts!

Okay, so I just want address a couple of your points before I get into how/why I find the series relatable. So, first of all this part:

“In particular, the fact that they’re always in relationships, or hooking with random people they meet wherever, is extremely weird to me.”

First of all, I don’t think that the characters on Friends date or hook up or have relationships any more than characters on any other television series out there. So many shows have their characters dating lots, sustaining long-term relationship etc. Also, I think that while, yes, all the characters did have relationships and hook ups, it wasn’t as constant or as prevalent as your statement implies. Let’s look at the characters individually.

Joey - probably the most sexually active of the group but this is also a big part of his character (similarly to, say, Barney Stinson). Joey does frequently hook up with women because he’s not interested in a long-term relationship, he just enjoys the brief, no-strings-attached intimacy of one-night stands but I don’t find his promiscuity to be unbelievable, especially since it’s an organic part of his characterisation. I also don’t recall him ever hooking up with a random person? 

Chandler - Chandler spends most of Seasons 1 and 2 either single or with Janice. If I recall correctly, he only briefly dates a couple of women other than Janice in those seasons. He spends half of Season 3 with Janice and the other half single. In Season 4 he briefly dates Kathy and then at the end of the season he hooks up with Monica and, as we know, the rest is history and he spends the rest of the series in a committed relationship. Again, I don’t really see this as unrealistic? Chandler has two serious relationships and a third which never really gets off the ground and he casually dates a few women, and this is within the time span of about four or five years. That seems pretty normal to me, especially within the landscape of 90s television, which often portrayed young adults dating around.

Ross - Ross actually dates quite a lot, we see him with many casual love interests, however, as with Joey, I feel like this suits his character. Ross is actually a serial monogamist, he’s hopelessly in love with love and so I find it really in-character that he would date lots in order to find his ideal partner. Again, this is very keeping with 90s culture of dating around. And, of course, Ross has three long-term/serious relationships (Carol, Rachel and Emily) and this is over a ten year time-span, which again, doesn’t seem like a huge amount of romantic developments.

Rachel - Rachel probably dates the least of the characters. She leaves Barry, who is implied to be her only long-term relationship, at the beginning of Season 1 and then has her “fling” with Paolo, which was more about her exploring an exciting and sexual relationship which she hadn’t experienced before. She then spends Seasons 2 and 3 pining after and then involved with Ross, only briefly dating Mark post-Ross. In Season 4 she has her crush on Joshua, which doesn’t go anywhere. Her only other “serious” relationship is with Tagg in Season 7 and other than that, she doesn’t really date that often.

Monica - single for most of Season 1 with only a couple of casual dating relationships, Monica spends most of Season 2 with Richard and then the majority of Season 3 single, until her short relationship with Pete. She’s single for all of Season 4 until she hooks up with Chandler, and then she’s in a committed relationship with him until the end of the series.

Phoebe - Phoebe dates a lot but again, I don’t necessarily find that unrealistic? Like Joey, she doesn’t seem to want or need a long-term partner (until she meets Mike) and she’s happy to just casually date around. At the risk of sounding repetitive, this once again (to me) ties in nicely with 90s dating culture and I think it suits her character. However, I do find her relationship with Mike rushed and it did very much feel like she was shoe-horned into the relationship by writers who seemed afraid of having a female character end the show single. That being said, I do find her and Mike sweet.

So yeah, I’m not sure if it’s a personal thing or a generational thing but I never felt that the romantic relationships and dating habits of the characters felt unrealistic. If anything, I think each of the character’s dating habits and relationship organically tie into their characterisation.

Now, the next part I want to address: 

“And let’s not speak of how most of them have great jobs and no college degree or higher schooling…”

This isn’t completely accurate.

Ross and Chandler both attended college (this is how they met, they were college roommates) and Ross has a PhD, so he definitely completed higher education. While it’s not wholly realistic that Ross would have a PhD and a high-paying job at the Museum of Natural Science at the age of twenty-seven (his age in the first season) it not entirely inconceivable, especially in the early 90s when a college degree actually did guarantee one a job and the job market was much better than it is these days.

Chandler completes college and then works in the same job for several years before receiving a promotion, which does come with an adequate pay rise, but again, he had to slog it out in a cubicle for at least four or five years before receiving said promotion, which he did so at about age twenty-seven, which seems pretty realistic, especially for the 90s. He then works at this job for the next several years, making solid money, before quitting to pursue a job which he’s passionate about. He completes an internship at an ad company and is then offered a more senior position due to his age and experience. I think this is all pretty realistic.

Rachel at least started college (she mentions in a Thanksgiving flashback that she’s taking psychology because the parking’s closer to the building) and she ends up having to work as a waitress for several years because of her lack of job experience, not exactly a great or high-paying job. Her lucking into the job at Bloomingdale’s is a little unrealistic, but she does start at a lower-level position (an assistant) before being moved to personal shopping, which she mentions is a step down for her. She interviews for and obtains the Ralph Lauren position based off her previous experience at Bloomingdale’s and is promoted after being there for a couple of years, again, a fairly realistic trajectory for her. I think Rachel’s work situation is perhaps the least realistic, given that a lot of it rests on luck, but I don’t think it’s completely unbelievable.

We have to assume that Monica went to culinary school, given that she’s a professional chef. It’s not unrealistic or unbelievable that she would be working as a Sous Chef at the age of twenty-six, especially in the 90s. She then loses her job and is forced to work at the demeaning and low-paying diner for over a year, before finally being given the chance to run her own kitchen, where she stays for several years, before being head hunted into a better-paying job when she’s in her early 30s, a realistic move for her, given her experience.

Joey and Phoebe are the only two who are explicitly stated to not have completed college (and in Phoebe’s case high school) but neither initially have particularly demanding or high-paying jobs. Phoebe works as a masseuse, for which she would have needed to complete a certificate or diploma in massage therapy, which she easily could have done in her early twenties. She appears to make enough to live on and doesn’t seem to want a different or higher-paying job and it is mentioned that she doesn’t make as much money as some of the others. And Joey spends so much time on the show unemployed or working odd-jobs in-between auditions, only really starting to get good/steady work towards the end of the series, so I think his career is pretty realistic and an accurate portrayal of how sometimes breaking into an acting career is about right place, right time.

Wow, that got long. Let’s get back to your actual question, of how/why I find Friends relatable.

It’s more little things that I found relatable as I got older. Things such as wanting to work a job I was passionate about (Chandler’s dilemma in Season 1 and again in Season 9), not having a plan for my life (Rachel in Season 1), going against my parents wishes for my career (Joey), having overly-critical parents (Monica) etc. Even smaller things, such as using sarcasm to cover childhood trauma (Chandler) or Monica’s OCD or Rachel always crying. These things made the characters real and relatable to me, even if the world they live in isn’t always completely realistic (their apartments, for example. Even in the 90s Monica wouldn’t have been able to afford that apartment, even with rent control!)

[rufusdawes]

Please Excuse Me

I had my day in court earlier this week. After being on the electoral role for several years, I finally had my summons to sit on a jury. In a town of only low five figured eligible jurors, it had seemed a long time coming. I have friends that have been called up within weeks of arriving and amending their voting registration but every time I checked the mail box, it was more often that not another sodding letter for pervious occupants. I have sent well over a hundred return to sender, not at this address messages scrawled across envelopes back to the post office. It's reached the point that I keep thinking to google whether I can legally just start binning their mail. Maybe, I'll do that once I've finished writing this. Anyway, one day in early August a letter from the Sheriff's Office arrived addressed to me, and not one of the half dozen muppets who are too lazy to tell the banks they've moved, informing me of my requirement to attend the Supreme Court 'on the 27th day of September 2021, at 8:45 oclock in the forenoon'. 'In the forenoon', how quaint, how exciting!

A formal letter with my name across the top and one not requiring me to get out the credit card, and a pink slip to be returned to the Sheriff saying yes or no. We have a Sheriff? Do they have a badge the shape of a star, spurred boots perhaps? Is their horse tied up to the outside of the Court, or maybe Bojangles the Saloon Bar on Todd Street? Either way, I don't think it's someone I want to mess with. If I say no, will I be called upon to take time out of my day for a duel in the Mall at noon? I don't want a midday stand-off, that's when I take my lunch. Ah no, punishable by a fine it seems, not a duel. Even so, I responded in the affirmative; yes, I am indeed available on the 27th and understand that I may be called to serve on a jury of a Supreme Court case running then or anytime up to four to six weeks later. No worries at all Boss.

I pinned the summons to the fridge so I wouldn't forget and popped the date into my work calendar so I could arrange bush trips around it. I informed my manager. I went to work and carried on working away a lot. This intensified after I applied for and accepted a role with another agency which meant suddenly I had to get sh!t done before my last day of the 8th October. I was away on one trip until the 24th September, a Friday and the last working day before my summons.

The four to six week period was now covering my final two weeks of my current employ, and then the beginning of a new role 3000 kilometres away from all my future colleagues who work out of Perth. I couldn't afford to do my civic duty. The next two weeks critical to ensuring that the three ranger groups I work with have ongoing work plans and that I have written handover documents despite not being directly replaced. Instead, each group will soon be getting dedicated Ranger Co-ordinators but not until weeks or even months after I've left. My next two weeks were promising to be busy especially having been out bush working with these groups the previous weeks. I needed to be excused.

Over a coffee with a friend the day before, it was mentioned to me that you can indeed get out of it if you successfully plead your case. Well then, tomorrow morning that is what I shall do. I walked up to the Supreme Court at 8:30 in the forenoon, a full fifteen minutes before expected so as to appear polite. The security officer at the door asked if I was there due to a jury summons. 'Why yes kind Sir, please may I enter' were the words hidden behind my nodding. "Did you call the number on the letter? You're due here Wednesday now." What number, what letter? Turns out on the formal letter, long since buried under a pile of other people's mail include the instructions to call an 1800 number before turning up on Monday which informed us potential jurors that we're not required until Wednesday.

This is disappointing since I was still hoping to get to Finke for work before my notice period was up. On the other hand, our HR department is on the top floor of this building, so I might be able to get them to write me a letter supporting my service deferral. They could, and since I now knew a little more, I was also able to write a Statutory Declaration and be far better armed for Wednesday morning.

When that day arrived, I had both documents and could not wait to hand them over to the mystery Sheriff. Having passed through security, I was instructed to take the stairs up to the next floor. There a lady behind a desk asked for the pink slip with my jury ID number on it. I handed it over and asked who I should show my requests for deferral to. "You'll need to ask the Judge for permission so best keep hold of them and head in."

In meant in to the public gallery to take one of the hundred or more seats that face the raised rostrum of the Judge's seat, under the seal of the Commonwealth of Australia. To the left, a witness box and an area where the defendant sits. To the right, the jury seats and in front, the defence and prosecution desks. Slowly, the other seats fill. Sometime after 9am, and with several dozen potential jurors seated we are informed of our instructions. We are led through the mechanics of a courtroom and what to expect, how jurors will be selected by drawing our numbers out of a tombola. How, should we be selected for this case, we can expect to serve for a couple of days. If not, that we should return for the next case to find out whether our number is up. And again after for four to six weeks. Unless we plead a case not to serve to the Judge from the witness box. Then we all stand up as the Judge enters the room.

Once he's seated, we sit and the morning begins in earnest. First the two charges against the defendant are read out, the not guilty plea to both is heard, the names of the witnesses who will take the stand as well as some other instructions are given before the Judge calls on those who think they have just cause not to participate. I line up.

I'm fifth in a line of eight. The first is excused from this case on account of being a good friend of the defendant. The next three excused from either the case or the full four to six weeks depending on their circumstances. My turn.

"Do you want the religious pledge or the promise" I'm asked by one of the Court attendants.

"The promise" I reply.

She then recites a few lines, something about the Queen and telling the truth and asks me to assert 'I promise' at the end, which I do before taking my seat in the witness box. This is somewhat unnerving. To my right is the defendant who has been sitting through thirty odd minutes of pre-trial jargon still innocent of their crimes until proven otherwise. Here I am, asking Sir if I can be excused from my civic duty because I'm a little bit busy at work.

The Judge asks my name and I lean forward towards the microphone.

"It's Hodgetts". Am I supposed to say Sir? Maybe it's Your Honour. Instead, I go with neither.

"Mr Hodgetts do you wish to excuse yourself from this case or your full civic duty?"

"Um yeah all of it I uh got a new job and um since I got my summons and said yes er things have changed and um I have a letter and er I wrote a Stat Dec so um I'd like to..."

"Show me the letters"

One of the Court officials takes them from me and hands them to the Judge. He scans them both before handing them back.

Fortunately, my mumbling and supporting documents as well as the benevolence of the Judge saw my deferral successful and I will be returning most likely early next year to have my number in a tombola for the selection lottery to be whittled down to twelve. I may be called to be one of them, I may not but until then I'm free to finish my job without risking being tied up in a Courtroom for days or weeks depending on the next case. This particular day in Court, a successful one. I do wonder though whether the same could be said for the defendant.

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Fraze

Bea: [Sends article] He's out Bea: 4 years early Bea: Fucking 'good behaviour' Caleb left the chat 3 hours ago Fraze (Caleb) joined the chat 3 hours ago Fraze: I'll kill him. Finding him won't be hard Fraze: The cunt couldn't do one decent thing and rot behind bars Fraze: Fucking hell. Where are you? Is anyone else with you Bea: Good one Bea: You'll just take his place and YOU will get life Bea: He's smiling, he fucking loves it Bea: Won't be surprised if I'm subjected to reading 'his side of the story' next Fraze: I'm not gonna stand around doing fuck all like I had to as a kid Fraze: I'll take my punishment if it means wiping the smile off his face at the same time Bea: Nothing's changed, can't change anything Bea: that was it, that was the punishment, my closure, now its done Bea: Oh, and leave me alone? Great Bea: Besides, you have people who give a shit about you, unlike him, people who you can't do that to Fraze: I'd never do that. Fucking never. Wherever I am Fraze: But I'd be doing this for you, 'cause you can't ruin your life for this cunt again Fraze: You're the one I care about. I'd do anything for you Bea: I didn't ruin MY life Bea: HE did, end of Bea: I'm not under illusion anyone can do anything about it anymore Bea: left those dreams on the playground Fraze: I didn't mean it like that Fraze: What so I can't do anything? Fuck that Bea: Sorry to say, babe Bea: get angry if it helps you sleep at night Bea: I'm sick of being angry Fraze: I don't give a shit about helping myself Fraze: There has to be something I can do for you Bea: What? Bea: I'll just book myself into therapy when I can afford it Bea: repress it all like a good girl Fraze: Talk to me. I ain't a shrink granted but it won't cost you more than a drink like Bea: What do you want me to say, Fraze? Fraze: Fuck I don't know, Bea Fraze: What do you wanna say Fraze: Be honest Bea: Nothing Bea: I wish I didn't have to think about it and remember it Bea: never mind talk about it Bea: I wish it never happened because I don't wanna be that girl Bea: Its pathetic, I'm pathetic and I hate it Fraze: It did happen, yeah, but it doesn't make you pathetic Fraze: You ain't that, never have been Bea: Yes, I am Bea: What could be more pathetic than an abused orphan Bea: everything about it screams pity me and I don't want that Fraze: No. You're smart, brave, determined, beautiful and that's not the half of it Fraze: That's what happened, not who you are Fraze: Who's pitying the best student at Cambridge? Come on. Bea: I'm hardly shouting about who I am and where I've come from, am I Bea: but its still the truth, even if I hide it forever Fraze: Nor am I. Why have we gotta? Fraze: The truth is he shouldn't be out. Ever Fraze: And that shit shouldn't have happened to you Bea: Because its all fake, a lie Bea: Well it did Bea: I doubt he'll be able to pull that shit again, looks on death's door the miserable fat cunt Bea: Who's going to let him near their children now? Fraze: We're real Fraze: Fingers crossed, save me a job, yeah? Bea: Yeah? Bea: Ok Fraze: Bea, don't Fraze: You know it Fraze: I love you Bea: Even so Bea: still can't make it work Bea: still gotta fuck around Fraze: We are making it work Bea: If that's what you wanna call it Bea: Sure Bea: Functioning, super healthy Fraze: I never said that Fraze: Christ, we keep having the same fight about this for one thing Fraze: But we're not giving up Bea: Only because we're stubborn Bea: doesn't mean its a good thing Bea: Perhaps we should Fraze: Fuck you. You don't get to push me away Fraze: Not 'cause of him Bea: I can do whatever I want Fraze: Yeah you can Fraze: But don't lie to me or yourself that this is what you wanna do Bea: Is it a lie? Bea: Why else would we have made up that stupid rule Bea: Obviously over it Fraze: Speak for yourself Fraze: You aren't speaking for me now. Simple as Bea: Bullshit! Bea: I've not slept with anyone else Bea: you have Fraze: So what? Fraze: That doesn't mean I don't want you Fraze: I do Bea: That's exactly what it means Bea: Don't be ridiculous Fraze: You're being fucking ridiculous Fraze: I didn't go behind your back once. I wouldn't Fraze: If not for this agreement bullshit I wouldn't have looked at anyone else Bea: You can say that 'cos you haven't had to try Bea: it was for your benefit Fraze: You agreed to me to it along with me Fraze: You didn't tell me you weren't fucking around Fraze: I thought it was what you wanted Bea: Because I know you Bea: I'd rather at least be able to front like it was my idea Bea: than just get fucking cheated on Fraze: Clearly you don't Fraze: Fuck you Fraze: I don't know how many times I can tell you that I love and want you Bea: That's what he used to say too Bea: Just words Fraze: Don't you fucking dare put me up against him Fraze: I'm nothing like him Bea: Calm down, I'm not calling you a kid fucker Fraze: Don't tell me to calm down Fraze: You're calling me a piece of shit that's enough Fraze: I'd never hurt you. Ever. In any way Bea: Look Bea: Sorry, alright? Bea: I didn't mean that Bea: Not intentionally but you can't say that like its fact Fraze: Why can't I? It's a fact for me, living by it Fraze: I'm a lot of things, yeah, but I'm not that to you. I won't be Fraze: Like I said, I'd do anything for you. Tell me what you want me to do Bea: Because you can't control me or what hurts me Bea: Stop caring Bea: Can't you see where it ends? Fraze: Stop twisting it Fraze: I'm not trying to control anything except this now, you pushing me away, 'cause it's fucked Fraze: Look, I know where we end Fraze: Marry me. I mean it Fraze: All this bullshit can just stop Bea: Why would you say that? Bea: Now, REALLY Fraze: 'cause I love you Fraze: It'll happen one day why not now Bea: No, it won't Bea: I don't want to get married Bea: I'm trying to make something of my life not end it prematurely Fraze: I'm not stopping you Fraze: A ring wouldn't either Fraze: What the fuck happened to doing it together? Bea: What happened is we obviously can't Bea: We want different things, we're in different places Bea: It is what it is, Fraze Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: You're scared Bea: Of what? Fraze: Fuck knows. You tell me Fraze: He did a number on you and you think I'm gonna Fraze: You're safe with me. I let you know that when we met. Nothing's changed Bea: You were just a kid then Bea: you didn't know what you were promising and you certainly don't need to stick to it now Bea: some fucked sense of duty Bea: I just told you I didn't want to be a sad pity case Fraze: Maybe not then but I do now and I'm still saying Fraze: It's love, that's what it's been since I was 7 Fraze: And I told you, you fucking aren't Bea: Fraze Bea: The answer is still no Fraze: You don't have to marry me, just don't fucking leave, yeah? Bea: How can I? We aren't together now already Fraze: You know what I mean Fraze: Fuck's sake Bea: Anyway Bea: just had to tell someone Fraze: Bea Fraze: Come on Bea: I can't Bea: I can't do or say what you want me to Bea: I'm sorry Bea: I really am Fraze: Fuck sorry Fraze: I want you. End of. I'm not asking for any more than that Fraze: What's hard about that all of sudden? Bea: Are you kidding me? You're living what's hard about it right now too, yeah? Bea: Either that or you're full of shit Bea: I can't keep missing you all the damn time Bea: it hurts too much Fraze: We knew it was coming Fraze: You're telling me you'd rather call it quits forever than miss me for a couple more years? Fraze: How'd that hurt less? Fraze: You're full of shit Bea: Fine, make ME say it Bea: because we'll get over each other Bea: we'd have to Fraze: If there's someone else just say it Bea: There isn't Bea: Don't try and make it into something it isn't Fraze: It's that London lad Fraze: I'll fucking kill him Bea: Bronson? Bea: That is ludicrous for so many reasons, which you'd be aware of if you took any time to listen to me, or try to get to know him Fraze: Don't turn this around on me, babe Fraze: He's the one pretending 'cause he's out for what he can get, with you Fraze: just friends, yeah? Fuck off Bea: That's not a thing that happens in real life, babe Bea: who knew you liked chick-flicks so much Bea: you think I wouldn't notice if I was slowly being wooed by my 'asexual' friend? Bea: the word alone makes him uncomfortable never mind this story you're concocting Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: And the point is, you have noticed and you're loving it Fraze: Gone off me 'cause you want him, but it's a big fucking joke, yeah? Bea: Oh, fuck off Bea: Even if he was into me, WHICH HE'S NOT, doesn't mean I HAVE to reciprocate it, WHICH I DON'T Bea: What do you even want me to say on this? Like, its not real, you're making it up Fraze: Go fuck yourself Fraze: Or him 'cause you clearly wanna Fraze: Trying to make me step aside like it's my idea Bea: Shame I can't, ey? Bea: 'Cause by this stupid fucking agreement I'm well within my right to anyway so Bea: why are you getting so angry? Fraze: You know why Fraze: I don't have feelings for any other girls Fraze: I'm not spending all my time with them like they're my girlfriend Bea: So I'm not allowed friends now? Bea: You have friends, I don't accuse you of fucking them or being in love with them Bea: My God! Fraze: Why am I the cunt for not wanting you to fucking replace me? Fraze: Christ sake Bea: Because I'm not! Bea: And if you can't take me at my word on that then tell me Bea: how do I prove that to you? Fraze: Stop pushing me away Fraze: And take me at my own fucking word Bea: I'm not pushing you away because there's someone else Bea: and you know it Fraze: What the fuck do I know? Fraze: You're messing with my head Fraze: Being fucking stupid Bea: I'm not trying to Bea: that's what I'm telling you Bea: leave Bea: don't get pulled in by my mess Fraze: Bea Fraze: Stop this shit Fraze: Enough now, yeah? Fraze: I'm not begging Bea: I can't Bea: Alright Bea: It ain't that simple Fraze: What's complicated Fraze: Don't act crazy Bea: That's right Bea: I'm crazy Fraze: Fucking hell Fraze: I'll call you when you've caught yourself on Fraze: Not getting nowhere Bea: Don't Bea: I don't want to talk to you Fraze: Don't answer Fraze: I can't make you Bea: Yeah 'cos I need you blowing up my phone Bea: Just leave me alone Fraze: I don't need you turning this on me Fraze: I'm trying Fraze: it's you doing this now Bea: Hey at least I didn't propose Fraze: Fuck you Bea: Fuck you right back

[allianceinternational-blog]

Construction Recruitment Agencies - Construction Project Bidding With Online Lead Services

By : Yogita Yadav

Image Source :

Welcome to Rhino Site Services, the UK's leading construction recruitment agency. With over 35 years of marketplace involvement we have formed partnerships with some of the largest contractors in the country, placing construction specialists in a variety of posts.  

Video Source :

Construction Employment Agencies - Some Profitable Jobs That Hire Felons

 Benefits are not necessary while the position is not a listing. It is a temporarily job designed to fill a short lived work necessity. No benefits are typical and expected by temporary employees.

 Finally, may want feel about your target specific. If customers don't unlock when asked open ended questions, it is probably time to admit the ability is not worth the effort, Construction Staffing By Recruitment Agencies.  The prospect is repeatedly indifferent, perhaps solo work with smaller contracts or individuals would a person to to grow even whether or not it's in smaller steps.

 "This money will help ensure our residents have clean, safe drinking water while protecting and creating jobs within our state,'' Sen. Joe Lieberman said associated with article.

 Handle disappointments in a complicated manner. A person have know you lost a contract, or in this case 80% with the bids, keep your dignity and continue an issue open ended phrases. State with confidence your ability to do quality work with fair price delivered period. Never accuse or complain about their decisions once they're finished. Find out what you could do differently next time become their subcontractor.

 Finding jobs online has transformed approach how job seekers locate brands. In this fast paced world today, nobody have enough to scour through the newspaper to find lucrative opportunities. Thus, online job agencies gained momentum. Job hunters are free to find jobs anytime everywhere with an internet connection. Online job search turned out to be the most commodious method if you are who want jobs without delay. Sign up with a stable job agency for finding best assignments. The good news is that you understand dedicated construction recruitment agencies aiding individuals with construction jobs only. Check jobs seen on their website and submit an application for them which impress you.

 Try open ended questions at each step in the sales period. Start your inquiry with phrases that encourage your customer to opened. , or "What a person like better.", etc. These are not answered with one word replies. After your proposal is made, and in an appropriate interval for follow up, contact your prospect while stating a new benefit which offer they will may do not have considered. Express your interest to do business, settle-back to watch ask for the order. "I'm ready. When can we have started?" is much more effective than asking if your order was seen.

 Pretty good, eh? Put it off. It gets better. Suppose that you raise price so high that people can a lot more afford to purchase widgets through current income and deals. Your customers like your product so much that they take out loans and second mortgages and continue to buy your products. Could it be better than that? Affirmative.

 Tool rentals are supplied to many customers which they may be returned much less than than perfect condition. It's in order to have a workforce demonstrate that the device safely turns as well as off. You've check additional medications sure which it is great condition also. If presently there rust, sticky parts, or frayed electrical cords put in force seeing another instrument or move in order to a better store.

 Better yet. You write to customers possess already purchased your product and say something like, "We am aware that you like our product. Even though you have already paid for it, you may want to send us some funds?" Incredibly, they do.

 Any possibility to find out doors. If you don't mind spending time in any case in a lot of people of work, after all of the possibilities that come with the exhaust. Strategies many more sources inside of bank. Can certainly search online forums, business recruitment, job forums, including reports located on the work in your area. Always be important to understand more about the number of offerings, in order to create them aware of their selections.

 The state is in line to receive $26 billion; $6 billion of is actually not for fiscal stabilization (helping the state meet can be a shortfall) and $11.3 billion for Health-related. That leaves less than $9 billion (maybe large numbers less) for the state to doll to be able to municipalities, school districts, some other county agencies. How it gets spread around is anyone's guess; there become some money for school renovation or repairs.

 To find the best construction recruitment online you undoubtedly choose the very best construction job website. The particular world beginning could possibly feel a lot confused since there are an involving websites. You are able to the actual testimonials authored by the users regarding these construction job web articles.

 Highway spending was a sizable chunk of the stimulus package with $29 billion allocated for the Interstate and highway network. Highway funding is a labyrinth of interconnected pools of money, but the stimulus assets are required to adhere to the existing priorities set by workers, but Highway Administration. I'm not going to claim so they can untangle the mess can be federal highway funding, become more serious . again, the projects that will get stimulus money need with regard to ready commence with in short order. The content you produce Doyle Drive won't get stimulus cash. But I'd bet that Speaker Pelosi makes sure the San francisco bay area gets its share of highway euro.

 There are two what exactly you need to remember about Internet searches. One -- tend not to always give accurate information. You heard that Lindsay Lohan was pregnant? Do a search and you are going to 5,320,000 hits, but i am not saying you can run with the story.

 Address :B-707 MONDEAL SQUARE 

Sarkhej – Gandhinagar Hwy, 

Prahlad Nagar, 

Ahmedabad, 

Gujarat 380015

Mobile no.:-+91 9898434323

For More Information: https://www.allianceinternational.co.in

[shadowofthelamp]

I was just thinking, man I'd love to read or see Zim forced to get an earth job. Like Zim's resigned to living on earth, he knows the tallest lied and of course he's going to stay wherever Dib is with him. I just want to see Dib forcing him to get a job to make some money for them both and Zim hated the very idea of being a "job-slave".

“Zim, you need to get a job.”

Zim let out a muffled grunt at that, clicking the remote particularly harshly to switch the channel, and Dib grabbed it from his hand, using it to smack the alien on the head.

“You’re bored out of your skull, you’ve gained at least ten pounds, and Gir’s been destroying the chair for an hour and you haven’t so much as pointed at him.” Dib waved the remote, before tugging on one of Zim’s antennae.

“Hey! Pen-limbs off, Dib!”

Dib sighed at that. “You haven’t even yelled at me in like a week. It’ll be good for you, and we’ll be able to afford better stuff. You like better stuff, don’t you?”

“Stuffs are good... yes, yes, I’ll consider it.”

“Good enough.” Dib gave Zim one last little whack for good measure before settling down next to him.

_______

Zim had been to eleven job interviews in the past week.

All but two had ended with fires or explosions, and those two had ignited his ire enough that he’d leapt on the desk and threatened the human managers with painful deaths.

Needless to say, he hadn’t made any of them.

In fact, the only place in town that was left hiring that wasn’t a strip club was...

Zim snarled to himself, lips vibrating as he hissed out air before pushing open the door to Krazy Taco, crumpled resume crunched in his fist.

______

The first few days were damn near traumatic. He hadn’t forgotten Foodcourtia, as much as he tried. (He’d deleted some of the worst memories, but trying to get rid of the entire experience ended with a massive headache and a two-hour loss of limb control.)

Having Dib to rant to about how awful the customers were helped, and the free food kept GIR more docile than usual, so small blessings, he supposed. But no matter, it still stunk worse than the Hi Skool gym lockers.

Dib had gotten an internship at a nearby newspaper- all those years of spying had turned him into a great person to scope out a news scoop. When they pooled their incomes they could live decently, especially with the allowance from his father Dib could still dip into if he really needed.

As time went on though... he minded it a bit less. At least humans didn’t tend to have giant lasers they could shoot if you prepared their food wrong, and the longer he was exposed to the disgusting smell, the more it faded from the forefront of his senses. He got into a fight with a hobo that lived behind the store on his break once, and after nearly decapitating him got a promotion. Apparently he’d been a pain for months.

Besides, sometimes the ridiculous stories of crazy customers made Dib laugh.

It was ridiculous and tiring and took far too much social energy for how little he got out of it, but it was something to do.

Two months in, he realized that he was getting quite good at this. Perhaps having his Pak still encoded for Food Service was to his advantage. Ha! No matter what happened, he would still make it out on top!