I haven’t played this stupid game in 6 months. This is a sequel to Prospects, this time featuring Bailey.
Agreement
The envelope shook in your hand. “This should suffice.”
Bailey took it from you, not bothering to meet your eyes as she slit the top and took the slip inside. Whitney, dressed for the ride ahead— or fight; whatever came first— in his sweats and t-shirt, stood with his back to the door. Despite your assurance, he had insisted on sitting in on this final transaction as if the mountain of cash you had worked yourself ragged to obtain would not be enough to settle the score, as if your being there were not dependent solely on your value as a worker, as if Bailey— who now looked up at you over the check between her fingers and her half-rimmed glasses— would care beyond that if you were gone.
The ground swayed beneath your feet.
Bailey leaned back in her chair, gesturing to Whitney with the check. “This was your idea?”
You could not bring yourself to look back at him, but you could imagine his expression. It was the same as when you had when you had met Briar and Avery a few days before; cool, unflinching, as though you were an item at a pawn shop he was trying to get a good price on. You supposed you were, in a sense. “Yes.”
Bailey nodded slowly, taking in your figure, your stance. You squirmed under her gaze. “And the child’s yours, I take it?”
“Yes.”
She considered as much. “You know,” she mused, “your… what would the word be? Fucktoy?”
He scoffed. “For our purposes, property.”
“Oh, hardly.” She leaned her elbows on the desk, fingers lacing together under her chin. “Not officially at least, not until our terms are settled.”
“What terms are there to settle?” You picked at your cuticles, heart pounding in your throat. “Is that not how much—“
“That’s how much my best earner was worth before.” Her smile was sweet like cough syrup, sharp like whiskey. “I’m a businesswoman you understand; it would hardly make much sense for me to part with my greatest revenue stream for its raw material costs.”
You looked back at Whitney. He kept his eyes trained on the woman in front of you. “And how much would it take for you to part ways with your charge?”
She sighed in mock contemplation. “Oh, I don’t know.” She sucked her teeth. “Another fifty percent ought to do it.”
The words echoed in your ears. You swallowed back panic as you went back to staring at the floor.
“Fifty?” His sneer was audible. “The fuck you take me for?”
“Someone desperate.” She gestured to you. “Someone willing to take when they can get and leave.”
“A bitch, you mean.”
“So long as we’re being frank.”
“You—“
“Do you know how much that child is worth?” You shut your eyes as you felt her own take you in. “Do you know what sort of market you could appeal to with a matching set?”
You heard a rustling of cloth behind you. Whitney’s voice was as cheerful and bright as you had ever heard it. “So long as we’re considering the lives of people that matter,” he smiled, “I’m curious; how much is your life worth?”
There was a pause, a laugh from Bailey. “That bitch,” she sighed. “First that file—“
“This actually isn’t Laundry’s, surprisingly enough.” You heard the clinking of metal parts as he gestured to you. “Friend of a friend who lives in the country; I promised him the deed to this shithole if your position found itself empty.”
Despite yourself, you turned to face him. He held the pistol in his hand with the confidence of a man unfazed by its weight. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he would be tried if he went through with it, whether the cops would come or care or whether they would write it off as the result of one of Bailey’s “ungrateful brats”. You could not for the life of you decide which would be preferable.
“So,” he continued, finger twitching, eyes shining, “I think it best if we tried renegotiating terms.” He gestured to you. “Either you take the money and I take your cash cow off your hands—“ He steadied his aim, “— or I redecorate your office with your insides and you get to find out whether the contents of that envelope are worth shit in hell.”
You cast your gaze back towards her. Bailey looked between the two of you, lips pursed. “You’re more desperate than I thought.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and reached into her shirt pocket. “Let me give you some advice, kid.”
You shut your eyes again at the click of the safety. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”
She pulled out a carton of cigarettes, tapping one out and sticking it between her lips. “He isn’t a better person than I am, you know.” She took a lighter off her desk. “He’s not going to take better care of you than I am, isn’t going to wish you off to some fairy tale land where you’ll never know hardship; if anything, he’s going to fuck you over harder than I do.” She lit it, took a drag, smiled, exhaled.
“You fucking—“
“And you.” She pointed the cigarette at him. “Whitney, yeah? You think your life’s going to get better by being a father?” She leaned her head on her free hand. “I’ve been stuck with this job for thirty years now; the only thing that thing—“ she waved the cigarette in your belly’s general direction, “— is good for is an accessory to the walking ATM it’s stuck in.”
You could hear his voice shake; with what, you could not tell. “So help me God if you say one more thing about my fucking kid—“
“Let me say my piece.” She stood up, taking another drag and blowing it in your face. “If I were you,” she sighed, “I’d see if Harper couldn’t make an exception to get that thing out of you while it’s not breathing. Short of that, I’d ship it here.” She leaned forward, resting her hand on the surface of her desk. “But if I ever find your brat at my doorstep,” she promised, voice lowering, “if I ever see you or that thing here again, I’ll make your time here look like a stay at the Ritz-fucking-Carlton.” She stuck the cigarette back between her teeth, tilting your head up to look her in the eye. The resemblance between her and Whitney was apparent; you wondered if that was just what the eyes of monsters looked like. “I will make your child pay for however much you would have made me twofold, and I will sell their body— whole or piecemeal— to any dumb fuck who asks for what I’m sure will be a pretty young thing like them. Do you understand me?”
You could not breathe.
Her grip on your jaw tightened. “Are you deaf?” She brought you closer, and you whimpered at the sensation. “I asked you a question. Do you understand me or don’t you?”
You shut your eyes as her nails dug into your skin. You dug your own into your palm as you forced yourself to nod.
She kept you there a moment— for what, you did not know— before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, and you swallowed back tears— of relief, of sadness, of panic— as she released you, collapsing to your knees and gasping for air. “Good.” She took the check, slipping it into her pocket before sitting back down. “Leave before I change my mind.”
You pulled yourself to your feet, practically tripping over yourself to cling to Whitney. He glanced down at you, letting you bury your face into his shoulder as he took one last look at your former guardian. Wordlessly, he pulled the two of you out into the hallway, past the children gathered by the door, past the garden and Robin and the stairs and the threshold and finally, with a smile of untempered relief and satisfaction, across the street, into the truck parked there, and away from that miserable town, and as you watched the buildings you had come to know as parts of your home flew past, as you watched people you recognized from school rush into the forest and students— like you, you registered vaguely, desperate for money, for purpose, for anything— lean against street corners, you wondered if this would be any better, if this was more desirable, if this was emancipation or a different, crueler kind of ownership.
You mumbled a goodbye to the bus stop as it passed. Only then did the tears really start.
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I have this thing, where when I dream I have nightmares, and I'll be terrified in the dream, but when I wake up I feel fine. I sometimes wake up very sweaty, but I never feel scared when I wake up.
Do you think L experiences that and or how would he react to an s/o experiencing it?
I’ve written a bit about the first half of this question in the past so I’m not going to go into any more excruciating detail. That said, though, his night terrors are a general constant— a product of his profession— and through having his fair share of bad nights he has started to wake up unfazed by whatever horrors his mind managed to come up with in the middle of the night. When it comes to you, however, he is generally more sensitive. If you are squirming in your sleep, he’ll wake you. If you want to talk about it, he will, and if you don’t, he will get you water and take you exactly at your word. He is not the most emotionally sensitive man in the world, but he can give you that much.
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I’m not going to request anything this time, I just want to know your honest opinion about “LawLight”.
I have never seen as much yaoi content in an anime as in Death Note in my 30 years… I’m sooo old, and maybe that’s why I’m so sick of Tumblr suggesting me these kinds of posts and it has revived my hatred for this “ship”.
I mean, I’m not even sure if those people have watched the same anime as me…
Cartoons are fictional to start with, so buying into this is like double-dipping in make-believe, I don’t know if I’m making myself clear, lol.
I know some people might say… We read ‘x reader’ stories, okay, but we reaaaally know that this is not real, instead of affirming something that doesn’t exist…?
Anyway, I just wanted to vent, hope I didn’t bother you, and that you understood my limited English.
Greetings from China!
I love Lawlight because I hate Light Yagami and I think he would hate Lawlight irl and any enemy of my enemy is a friend. That said I personally do not know how feasible it is as a ship. Im not anti Lawlight or anything— the fan content for this ship is great— but I do not know that the characters are all that compatible. I would normally leave it at that, but this is a prime opportunity to shit talk Light so I’m taking it. Here are my top ten implied realities of Lawlight which sink the ship in my opinion.
1. It implies that L would date a man he doesn’t even trust enough to believe isn’t a serial killer, which is ridiculous.
2. It implies that Light as Kira would not be so stubborn as to just refuse to be vulnerable with L out of spite.
3. It implies Light Yagami is capable of love.
4. It implies that neither of them wouldn’t view physical intimacy solely as an in to gain information from the other person.
5. It implies that either party would be content with just leaving well enough alone and not trying to destroy each other.
6. It implies that Light would deny his repressed (if you want to be nice) homophobia (which I cannot prove he has but believe he does with my whole entire heart) long enough to allow himself to get with L.
7. It implies that Light (and possibly L) would be cool with Ryuk watching them do couple things, sexual or otherwise.
8. It implies that Misa Amane would not beat the shit out of L for encroaching on her man.
9. It implies that Light would either top or not view bottoming as losing.
10. It implies that Light has the ability satisfy a partner in any way.
That said, their messy hypothetical relationship is undeniably fun to speculate about. Loads of fun fan works have come from the ship, and Light would despise the ship in real life, so who am I to knock it?
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https://www.irs.gov/charities-non-profits/irs-complaint-process-tax-exempt-organizations
3. Nature of violation
Directors/Officers/Persons are using income/assets for personal gain
Organization is engaged in commercial, for-profit business activities
Income/Assets are being used to support illegal or terrorist activities
Organization is involved in a political campaign
Organization is engaged in excessive lobbying activities
Organization refused to disclose or provide a copy of Form 990
Organization failed to report employment, income or excise tax liability properly
Organization failed to file required federal tax returns and forms
Organization engaged in deceptive or improper fundraising practices
Other (describe)
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