terrible landlords

3

view from my dads balcony i can’t remember if i posted this upper west side shit

update: i did post two of these in a different photo set but i like them together. my dads apartment is sooooo chill and for whatever reason (he certainly don’t need it) he gets reduced rent it’s something like 2100 for a spacious one bedroom with a balcony on the 29th floor in a great part of NYC like man my place is 1750 for two bedrooms where a bunch of shit doesn’t work, bad-ish part of town and a terrible landlord. this place will b mine one day i hope cos it’s great. even tho it has terrible memories. my dad when he wanted to scream and yell at me would take me out on the balcony and corner me and i had my first thoughts and plans of suicide at such a young age cos of that.

bookwormchocaholic  asked:

WO Gold and Belle: What was your first meeting like?

SO I DID THIS THING. I’m sorry. (I’m not sorry.), Rated very G

Intervals - Part 13

[AO3]

Belle took a breath and pushed open the door to the pawn shop. The bell jingled loudly, startling her, but it was such an old fashioned thing that she looked up at it and smiled.

“Something I can help you with Miss -?”

Belle blinked and looked at the man standing behind the back counter. He wasn’t very tall, not much taller than she was in heels, and older, with gray streaked hair that hung to his shoulders. She thought it looked very soft, which was an odd thing to think about someone she hadn’t even really met yet.

He tilted his head and gave her a strange look, and she realized she was still standing awkwardly by the door and hadn’t answered him.

“Oh!” She gasped, her fingers squeezing the book she’d brought with her. “Uh, it’s French. Belle French. And you’re -? Mr. Gold?”

The man inclined his head slightly and then stepped out from behind the counter, coming towards her at a slow but steady pace. “Well, that’s the name on the sign, dearie.”

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THIS SONG IS GOOD FOR:

  • fantasizing about going back in time and making a clean break from an ex who is stuck in your dumb heart like a dumb thorn and you’re like THAT HURTS BUT IF I TAKE THIS OUT, IS IT JUST GOING TO BLEED??? IN THE MOVIES THEY SAY TO LEAVE THE ARROW IN?????
  • fantasizing about quitting your job to “”“”“find your true self”“”“” on a trip where you ~dance in the rain~ and learn to ~live in the moment~ and ~get hella tan~
  • fantasizing about the last time you fought with your roommate about her awful boyfriend essentially living with you without paying rent or contributing to the house in any meaningful way, no, i don’t want him to contribute to rent, he’s awful, i want him not to be here all the fucking time
  • fantasizing about yelling at your terrible landlord/management company/whatever for sending you an email about the mess in your apartment, like YOU’RE NOT MY MOM, MR/S. LANDLORD???? I’LL CLEAN MY SHIT WHEN I WANNA CLEAN IT???
  • fantasizing about fiercely defending your future children from the shitty PTA parents who are mad because their kid doesn’t get more playing time when they play That Sport They Like and you’re like LISTEN, BRAD AND AMBER, OUR KIDS ARE NINE. THE SCORE OF EVERY GAME IS FUN TO FUN, OKAY, AND YOUR LITTLE MARK ISN’T THE SECOND COMING OF GRETZKY. MOST KIDS AREN’T ELITE PLAYERS, THEY’RE AVERAGE. THAT’S WHAT AVERAGE MEANS.*
Getting Together (Joe Sugg Imagine)

A/N: Sorry it’s taken me a while to post anything today. There was a power trip throughout my house and my landlord is terrible at getting anything fixed quickly so I didn’t have wifi to see any of your requests and I couldn’t charge my laptop! It’s all fixed now though so here’s tonight’s imagine :)

‘So how’s the love life going?’ your friends Tanya and Zoe asked as you walked towards the restaurant that you were meant to be meeting your friends at for dinner.

‘Non-existent’ you joked in reply.

‘Well Joe’s still single’ Zoe suggested referring to her brother.

‘Zoe you’ve been trying to set her up with Joe for as long as I’ve known you’ Tanya remarked as you turned a corner.

‘Because they would be perfect for each other!’ Zoe defended looking to you for a reaction.

‘Joe’s my friend, I’m pretty sure that if anything was going to happen it would have happened by now.’ You shrugged. You had once had feelings for Joe but you’d since realised that nothing was ever going to happen and so had since decided to move on and accept that Joe was nothing more than a friend.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure’ Tanya smirked.

You ignored her comment as you approached the restaurant.

‘Joe’s in there already’ Zoe said pulling out her phone and checking her messages. ‘Alfie’s just text me asking him to meet him around the corner, Tan can you come with me and Y/N you can go inside and wait with Joe?’

‘Ok’ you rolled your eyes understanding that she was hinting at you two spending time alone. You didn’t mind though, in fact you were secretly happy that you’d get to spend a minute with Joe without the rest of the group hinting that the two of you needed to get together.

You went inside and saw Joe sat at a small table in the corner, he stood up and pulled you into a hug when he saw you.

‘Joe I don’t think this table will be big enough for all six of us’ you told him gesturing at the two seats positioned either side of it.

‘Actually the others aren’t eating with us’ Joe bit his lip awkwardly.

‘Yeah they are Zoe and Tanya have just gone to…’ you paused realising what had happened.

‘I’m sorry I lured you here under false pretences’ Joe said rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness ‘I just didn’t know how else to get you here’

‘You could’ve just asked me’ you told him sitting down.

‘If I’d have called you last night and said Y/N will you go on a date with me tomorrow night would you really have said yes?’ he asked raising his eyebrow.

‘I might have been hesitant’ you admitted and Joe grimaced. ‘But only because I had no idea you actually liked me’

‘Are you joking? Y/N I’ve liked you for ages, I literally spend most of my time looking forward to when I’m next going to see you again.’ He confessed.

‘Really? Because I liked you too and I kept trying to flirt with you but you weren’t picking up on any of my signals, I thought you didn’t like me as anymore than a friend’ you told him in amazement. You’d been crushing on Joe for a good year and a half before you’d decided to be just friends and even that had been a reluctant decision.

‘Really? I never realised’ Joe laughed to himself.

‘So what now?’ you asked resting your hands on the table. Joe reached over and scooped them up in his entwining his fingers with your as he did.

‘Well now you know that I like you and I know that you like me, so I think we should give us a go’ he told you looking into your eyes with warmth and sincerity.

‘I think we should too’ you agreed letting a smile spread across your face.

The two of you sat and ate dinner together and when you were finished Joe took your hand leading you out of the restaurant. You continued down the road until you spotted Zoe, Alfie, Tanya and Jim walking towards you.

‘You did it!’ Zoe squealed running over and engulfing you both in a hug.

‘Yeah’ Joe told them rolling his eyes at his sister’s excitement.

‘I told you’ she said turning to you ‘You two are so perfect for each other.’

‘And now we don’t have to keep teasing them about getting together’ Alfie added.

‘Good, I was getting sick of all those comments’ you told them causing them all to laugh.

The six of you planned to go back to Jim and Tanya’s for a movie night. The four of them led the way whilst you and Joe hung back for a moment.

‘Thank you for tonight’ you said to Joe as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

‘You’re welcome, I’m sorry it took me so long to finally ask you out’ he told you pulling you into him.

‘You were worth the wait’ you whispered leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips.

‘So was that’ Joe smiled down at you and you knew he was right.

Another Era Maybe

@soldierjbbarnes

Steve sighs and the sound is raspy. His mom’s burial was a thing of little fanfare and less attendence just two days ago and the weight of it is every bit as crushing as the asthma attack he’d just had this morning. Now he just lays weak on the couch, waiting.

Bucky will be off work soon and he’ll stop by, like he always does. The crinkle of paper in his hand makes him close his eyes and swallow hard. He won’t survive out on the streets, but how can he work more than he already tries to? He has the will, but he hasn’t the body to do more than baby sit the Teller’s twin boys three days a week when he’s well. He can sometimes work at the pharmacy, counting out pills and sometimes filling in for their steady cashier when Johanson wants a night off or can’t make it… but that’s it.

They’re gonna kick him out.

He has no where to go.

Unless Bucky…

The doorknob turns and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, glad the paper in his clenched fist is between his thigh and the back of the couch hidden until he’s ready to talk about it.

“Hey, Buck,” he whispers from where he lays, knowing the asthma attack’s aftermath is written all over him from the limpness of his body on the couch to the faintest of wheezing whistles in his breath. He’s a pretty steady, even-keel kind of guy, but he’s also admittedly of a weak constitution and the stress of losing his mom and their terrible landlord almost immediately serving him a notice of eviction… it’s a bit much even for mellow Steve Rogers. He’d go knock the guy’s block off, but he’s a fairly tall, fat guy with a Russian or Albanian accent that makes him hard to understand, but Steve knows the guy is a pretty shady fella and that he often carries a pistol. It isn’t worth that kind of fight. Not really. Besides… Bucky will know what to do. Steve’s never needed Bucky more than he needs him right now.

“How was work at the docks today?”

When we were growing up in Harlem our demoralizing series of landlords were Jewish, and we hated them. We hated them because they were terrible landlords, and did not take care of the building. A coat of paint, a broken window, a stopped sink, a stopped toilet, a sagging floor, a broken ceiling, a dangerous stairwell, the question of garbage disposal, the question of heat and cold, of roaches and rats–all questions of life and death for the poor, and especially for those with children–we had to cope with all of these as best we could. Our parents were lashed to futureless jobs, in order to pay the outrageous rent. We knew that the landlord treated us this way only because we were colored, and he knew that we could not move out.

The grocer was a Jew, and being in debt to him was very much like being in debt to the company store. The butcher was a Jew and, yes, we certainly paid more for bad cuts of meat than other New York citizens, and we very often carried insults home, along with the meat. We bought our clothes from a Jew and, sometimes, our secondhand shoes, and the pawnbroker was a Jew–perhaps we hated him most of all. The merchants along 125th Street were Jewish–at least many of them were; I don’t know if Grant’s or Woolworth’s are Jewish names–and I well remember that it was only after the Harlem riot of 1935 that Negroes were allowed to earn a little money in some of the stores where they spent so much.

Not all of these white people were cruel–on the contrary, I remember some who were certainly as thoughtful as the bleak circumstances allowed–but all of them were exploiting us, and that was why we hated them.