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padgettharder7 · 2 years

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weasleypogues · 4 years

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sober (j.b.r)

master list.

so i wanted to make a cute little thang to get this account really up and running so i hope u guys enjoy :) xx

you and your friends decided that having a kegger at the boneyard was the only way that you wanted to kick start your summer. it only seemed appropriate because it was a sunny day with little to no breeze and school had just let out for the summer.

you went with kiara to pick up red solo cups while the guys went on their own path to pick up two kegs. today was a great day on the boat with your friends. you got breakfast, lunch, and dinner with them. you swam in the waves and surfed with them later on.

for some reason though, you said to yourself that you weren’t in the mood to drink later on. you weren’t in an upset mood or anything and a part of you felt guilty that you weren’t going take part in the drinking. you just wanted to live in the moment with your friends and didn’t feel like forgetting parts of the night. fortunately, you didn’t need to be under the influence to hang out and have fun with your friends, unlike a lot of the kooks.

after making a stop at kiara’s house so she could change, you made one last stop at your own to get on your cutest but most laid back party clothes. you had no one to impress. well...you kinda did. it’s confusing. you didn’t feel the need to dress up for your crush, john b. you figured if he didn’t like you in a regular pair of shorts and a t-shirt than maybe the crush wasn’t worth it. but that didn’t mean you didn’t pick out your cutest t-shirt and shortest shorts for the party. you still had to spice it up.

after applying a small layer of mascara and highlighter, you packed a bag to sleep over john b’s house later and headed towards the boneyard with kiara.

“ready to get completely shitfaced, ladies?” jj exclaimed raising his arms in greeting as you and kiara walked towards them near the shoreline. surprisingly, kiara decided tonight she would go a little harder than usual now that you were going to be sober.

“shitfaced? no, feel-good-buzzed-tipsy? hell yeah.” kiara giggled as she opened the bag of red solo cups stacked on top of each other. you took a seat on the large fallen branches next to john b.

“want me to get you a drink?” pope asked, facing you. you smiled at him and simply shook your head.

“not really feeling getting drunk. just feel like chilling, sitting back, and observing.” you answered as you fiddled with your bracelets. he gave you a quick smile and nod and proceeded to walk over to jj who was already done with one cup.

it wasn’t long until tourons and kooks joined the party after your usual pogues inhabited the party earlier. it was kinda funny how keggers worked. john b explained them as three-layer burritos. even though everyone has their own opposite lifestyles and such, there’s nothing like a kegger to gather underage kids to drink alcohol on a beach.

“need any help?” you asked as you walked up to where john b was working the keg. he looked over to you for a quick second to put a face to the voice and smiled as he went back to work.

“not necessarily, but i could use some company.” he anwsered with a smile on his face. you smiled slightly to yourself as you just observed him while he was focused on filling up a cup for some random kooks. you watched the way his sunburnt skin looked perfectly tan, how his slight curls moved with the summer evening breeze, how even though pogues and kooks did not get along whatsoever he still gave each kook a slight smile even though from time to time he would mess with them when handing them a cup. he was overall a nice guy. that’s why you liked him. although he could easily hurt a fly, he wouldn’t think even think about doing it.

there would be little breaks he would get in between newcomers where you guys would hold a small conversation but usually got interuppted quickly. after a couple more tourons walked up to the party in their new outer banks apparel they got from a local shop on their vacation, john b was pretty free for the rest of the night.

“pretty good turn out tonight if you ask me.” you said as you took an empty spot on a fallen tree in front of the fire. john b didn’t hesitate to follow you and take the empty seat next to yours.

“i would say so. as long as no bad shit happens, we’re good.” he responded with a slight chuckle. you rolled your eyes and let out a laugh so quick, you knew something was bound to happen. whether it was your own friends or some tourons or kooks, there was never a simple and peaceful kegger in the history of boneyard parties.

“look’s like we’re the only ones sober at this party.” john b stated as he gave you a slight nudge to make you look over at him. he had that gorgeous smile that gave you butterflies and you rolled your eyes playfully in response. “is there a reason you didn’t drink tonight?”

you shurgged while giving a content smile. “wasn’t really feeling the whole alcohol taste tonight but as long as i’m here, i’m happy.” you answered putting your elbows on your knees to get somewhat closer to the firepit. he nodded slowly and looked down and there was a few moments of silence between you two.

it seemed like an eternity till he lifted his head up. even though people were surrounding you every which way, it felt so quiet when he didn’t respond at all.

“can i tell you something?” john b asked, a little louder than both of you expected. this made you slightly jump and you looked at him with soft eyes.

“anything.” you replied as you subtly cracked your fingers, a habit you did when you were nervous. he stood up and ran his fingers through his hair with his left hand while his right hand was out stretched towards you. you took his hand without heistation as he led you a little distant from the rest of the party.

“this could easily be too straight up. this could so easily ruin our friendship. or the group. or tonight overall but i seriously need to get this off my chest for the sake of myself and of jj and pope who will not stop nagging me to tell you.” john b rambled on, his face turning slightly red from either embarassment or because he was loosing breath from his run on sentence. you couldn’t tell, mainly because you felt your own face get too hot because you were scared of what he was going to say.

“you know how there’s the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule, right? of course you do, that was a stupid question. anyways, look (y/n) i really like you. like a-fucking-lot. i liked staring at the back of your head in history class to keep me distracted. i like when you laugh at jj and pope after kiara either playfully tells them off or makes fun of them. although, playfully is a debatable word with that last one though. i like when you come surfing with us or even just sit with us at the wreck even though you ate lunch earlier but just wanted to be with us. i like your laugh, your eyes, your finger cracking habit. the list could go on. so i get it if you don’t like me back or maybe you do and you just don’t wanna break the rules. and maybe it was selfish that i’m saying all this and throwing it on your for the sake of my own sanity but i just really had to let you know because jj and pope put this idea in my head that you had feelings back for me and i just need to know.”

you started back at him, your eyes slightly wide at his entire tangent. you were at a loss for words. you felt a tingling sensation throughout your entire body but no words were coming to mind except for simple ones.

“yes.” you answered, and it seemed like you were out of breath. john b’s face faltered slightly.

“yes?” he inquired, his eyebrows furrowed. finally your knowledge of the english language came back to you and the biggest smile grew on your face.

“i like you. a lot. you’re the sweetest, funniest, most laid back guy that i’ve ever met and if i knew all of this i would so have made a move sooner you have no idea.” you responded and immediately cupped his face with your hands and pulled him in so passionately that the noise from the kegger drowned out gradually.

you could feel john b ease at your touch and swiftly grabbed your waist, somehow pulling your already close bodies, even closer. after what felt like way too long but not long enough, you pulled away and found your hands at the nape of his neck, playing with his hair.

“i feel like the luckiest guy in the outer banks right now.” john b responded, oh ever so cheesily. your hands traveled down his arms and you took his left hand in your right as you guided him back to the party. maybe your drunk friends would notice, maybe not.

maybe you were away from the party longer than you thought because when you came back you were met with only a couple of party goers, jj, kiara, and pope as they passed around a joint.

“woah woah woah, did we miss something?” jj basically coughed out after hitting the joint. you and john b both laughed in response.

“we’ll clear things up tomorrow morning when everyone is sober and hungover, don’t worry.” you stated, feeling john b place a kiss at the top of your head.

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vtscasefiles · 3 years

Text

Case File # 321-5

Trigger warning: blood, gore, violence, death, firearms, injury, rape mention

Case begun: 5/09/20**

Case Concluded: 5/11/20**

Case Locale: [REDACTED], Florida

Marked as Closed

I arrived in Florida, the humidity already fucking with my sinuses. How anyone can live in this swampy shithole I will never understand. But I was offered a job, and my bank account was practically beating me over the head with it’s need to be filled. The pay was too good to turn down, so I loaded up my gear and headed out.

What I wasn’t expecting was a fucking ghost pirate. I mean, of all things, how fucking cliché can you get? The client, Rosie [REDACTED], welcomed me with that famed “southern hospitality” that I’ve heard so much of.

“You the girl with the gun? I expected you to be bigger.”

Fuckin’ peachy. “Yes. I’m the girl with the gun. You got a haunting problem?” I replied, trying not to let my irritation get the better of me. I’m fucking 5′9″. I’m not that small. For fuck’s sake, I can bench two hundo with no problem. Why the --

[Editor’s note: this continues for fifteen minutes. For your convenience I have removed VT’s rant.]

After getting a brief rundown of the case, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Everything pointed to a simple haunting, it wasn’t something I was considering a challenge, or even something that’d take longer than a few hours.

After doing this job, you think you’ve seen just about all the SC* has to offer. My two best friends are a lich and a witch. Yes, they rhyme, shut up. Point being is that I have never seen a haunting manifest on such a massive scale. Usually it’s restrained to a building, or a patch of land, but this...the whole fucking coast line was haunted. It wasn’t even a Cluster**, it was one. Singular. Spirit.

My first day, as the usual, was spent at the library. The spirit in question, one Captain Fresni, was an infamous pirate in the seventeen hundreds. Played a role in the American Revolution, albeit a small one. According to the books I’d found (mostly useless, but I did manage to glean some insight), his ship The Crooked Jess, was riddled with canon fire by the British. Captain Fresni, a violent fighter if ever there was one, realized there was no way out...lit every barrel of gunpowder he had on board and rammed his ship into the oncoming fleet. The following explosion wiped out three ships, packed with soldiers and set fire to another six.

I was impressed. If the spirit was Captain Fresni, as Rose claimed, then it could simply be a case of the body dying so suddenly and violently that the spirit didn’t realize he was dead. There was one passage that stood out, I won’t repeat it due to it being hella long, but in summation it stated that near the southern tip of Florida there was a hidden cove that served as the pirate captain’s base. Might as well start there.

It was around 9pm on the tenth before I even stepped foot in the cove. Immediately, the air changed. Despite it being disgustingly humid, the air turned frigid and dry. I walked up and down the coast to find a spot that wasn’t freezing, but to no avail. The whole place was a spook zone. We’re talking a good three hundred acres of land completely under the spirit’s influence. Even by a Cluster’s standards, that’s a massive area.

This area was mostly undisturbed, being a historical site. Being in the profession I am, meant that didn’t mean a roasty pile of dogshit. If I got caught disturbing anything here, it only meant one thing: prosecution, if not a bullet through my head. I’m aware of what my ethnic background means; prejudice, racism, outright hate. Hell, it’s dangerous to drive, let alone stand somewhere that I shouldn’t. So I try to be subtle. Try not to pack too much ordinance. Today I only had my duffel bag full of Elinor’s*** special ammo. I’d say it “kills” ghosts, but you can’t kill a spirit. You can however, force it to reconcile with it’s past.

The worst part about this job was I was going to wind up in the water. I hate swimming. Forget what chlorine does to the dye in my hair (red. Blood red. Always.), but just the thought of driving across the country with my clothes soaked in salty water was already putting my teeth on edge. Looks like I’d be hitting a thrift shop on the way home.

I dropped my duffel bag on the beach and sat in the sand next to it, pulling off my dad’s old combat jacket and stowing it inside. I did a quick inventory. I hadn’t brought anything major. Salt. Blessed water (courtesy of Ramona****). A black beeswax candle and, my trusty companion, Peace.

Peace is the name I’ve given to my custom-made revolver. All together, the setup weighs about three pounds. Each part bears a custom engraving that’ll combat just about any supernatural force...even so, there are some things that Peace can’t solve...even with the right ammo. But I had one solution sitting in the backseat of my car: a can of kerosene. If bullets don’t solve the problem, a liberal application of fire will.

The time was midnight, the opening of the “Witching Hour”. I had until 3am to get something. Anything. The spirit wasn’t answering to any of the usual callouts (their name, questions, requests for an audience), so I settled in on the beach to doze. Wasn’t much else to do.

Mother fucker, I wish I hadn’t.

When I woke up, it was to the freezing cold iron around my wrists. The bob and weave that told me I was on the sea. The air smelled of something...something that every fucking time I smell it, I almost lose my lunch.

Corpses.

The deck outside my cell was slick with blood and viscera. I’ve seen my share of gore, don’t get me wrong, but this was a massacre. What was worse...it looked (and smelled) fresh. The good captain had been busy, it’d seemed. What began as a simple haunting was quickly turning into something more sinister. Rosie hadn’t mentioned that the spirit was violent...though I should have assumed, given the amount posted on the job. Even still, this was...a little more than I’d prepared for.

But first there was the matter of the shackles on my wrists.

Lockpicking is an artform that every PE invests time in learning. But that’s usually deadbolts or doors made post 1970. The manacles on my wrists (though they looked brand new) were easily something seen in the eighteenth century. There was even a maker’s mark next to one of the keyholes. I’ll spare you the details on how I got out, but my thumbs ache to all hell.

The second I laid hands on the bars to my cell, they swung open...I’d never been locked in. This worried me. The spirit wanted me free...the manacles were just a precaution. Each step I made was met with the squishy splort of combat boot on viscera. I took my time, as I didn’t relish the thought of slipping and falling into the mess beneath my boots. Proud to say that I didn’t fall. Not once.

[Editor’s note: judging by the stains on VT’s clothes, she fell.]

As far as I could tell, I was on the lowest deck. The stairway didn’t lead up into the fresh air of day, but rather into what I assumed was a galley. Tables and benches had been scattered, and cooking implements rusted on their hooks. Dangling from one of those hooks was my firearms...just waiting for me.

I expected a trap, I anticipated the trap. By that I mean I picked up a piece of busted bench and hurled it at my gun. It fell off the hook with a loud clatter which had me willing myself to fade into the shadows. Nothing. Nothing but the creak and groan of the ship.

Well, I say nothing, but I distinctly heard laughter from the top deck. Feminine, bright laughter. I picked my gun up off the floor, holstered it and climbed the stairs.

There was no ghost crew, as I’d anticipated...but at the helm was a sight that still gives my heart a jolt. It’s no secret that I’m gay. I love women. But what I saw at the helm...fuck me, sideways. She was tall. 6′6″ if she was an inch. Her raven hair captured the moonlight and practically sucked it in. Her breasts were bared to the wind, heavy tattoos that seemed to glow covered just about every inch of bared flesh. I’d have thought her living if not for one thing: her eyes. Pitch black like the void.

“Ahoy, mate.” she purred, setting my teeth to clench. “Found you on my little hideaway, snoozin’ like an infant. Come to join Captain Fresni’s crew, little pet?”

“I ain’t your pet.” I snapped, glowering up at the spirit. “You’ve been killing people, Captain...and everything I’ve read says that you’re a man. Are you actually Captain Fresni, or is that just some title you picked up?”

“Funny how men’ll give the most vicious fighters a cock in death that they never had in life, hm?” the pirate snickered. I took notice then that her arms were like two thick pythons that, any other time, I’d like to see just how much weight they could hold. “I offered my services to old Georgie and he thought me funny. At least until I broke his nose.”

“Georgie? As in Washington?”

“Ye know of him? Interesting. He refusing the afterlife, too?”

Everything I’d assumed about this spirit was wrong. Captain Fresni wasn’t a man, for one. Not to mention she knew very well that she was dead. That still didn’t answer the most pertinent question on my mind. “The bodies...or what’s left of them. Was that you?”

“Aye.” she smiled, wickedly, but offered no further explanation. I was being baited.

“Can I ask why?”

“Ye just did.” a hard spin of the wheel almost sent me tumbling. “But I suppose I can oblige a pretty little thing like you.” I fucking hate being demeaned. And all attraction for this undead bitch was flying out the window faster than you could say “eat my ass”.

I can’t remember most of her explanation. Looking back, now...it’s like the whole of that night is just a drunken fever dream. What stands out to me is her reasoning. “I only murder the dregs, girlie. Rapists, mostly. Kidnappers. Violence done to women is met with brutal retaliation. It’s the simplest way to clean up this world, savvy?”

Oh, I was savvy. Quite savvy. If anything, I agreed with her and her method. Trash like that shouldn’t be allowed to breathe, let alone exist. “If that’s all you’re doing, Cap, then I see no reason we shouldn’t go our separate ways. You have your work and I have mine.”

“Aye? And just what is your work, lovely?” I didn’t detect any further demeaning playfulness...only curiosity.

“I’m a PE. A Paranormal Eliminator. Usually, I’d have to ask or make you pass on, but as it stands...I think we can say live and let live. Well...live and let un-live.” she’d laughed at that. A warm sound that had my guts twisting around my stomach like some sort of horny serpent.

“So, you came out all this way to end the dread Captain Fresni...only to find a kindred spirit, is that what I’m hearing?” she asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat with a Glasgow grin. “And now you want to leave, just like that. Don’t a get a kiss or a nice romp? I think I’m owed something after all. I didn’t kill you for trespassing.”

That raised my hackles. Again, this pillar of muscle was underestimating me. What I’d fought, what I’d killed. For fuck’s sake, I’ve killed enough Wendigos to put half the men in my profession to shame. There was that weird case where the woman who hired me was fucking the Wendigo, but...that’s another story for another time.

[Editor’s Note: We’ve never discussed the Wendigo-coitus case. I sincerely want to hear it.]

“Fuck you. You got the drop on me, like a coward.” I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. I was on her ship and at her mercy. She could sink this ship and I had no idea which way shore was...let alone the hazards that went with swimming in open water.

Instead she’d only laughed. “Little girl, I’m a pirate. I’ve no intent to fight head on when I can sneak up on someone. Honor is a man’s game. It’s what gets them killed, more often than not.” Again, I agreed. I’d put enough bullets in the back of a head to know that stealth is preferable than a face-to-face fight.

“Look, I lost my temper. Can we just...end this and I can go home? We both agree on your method, and I see no reason to stop what you’re doing. Sure, the “authority” of the living world won’t like it...but no one likes them, so they can eat a steaming pile of shit.” I said, frowning. “I don’t want a fight. I just want to get paid and go home.”

The look about the spirit changed, marginally. The tattoos seemed to be rippling along her flesh(?) and her smile faded into a frown. “Missy, we still have a glaring problem we’ve yet to address. I’m one woman...and I need a crew. So, unless you’ve got a solution to that particular snag, you’re it.”

All my like for this spirit (begrudging as some of it was) vanished in an instant. “So I’m being kidnapped.” I responded, feeling my heart start to hammer in my ears. “Just like those men you killed. So, what I’m hearing is, you’re no better.”

“Watch your words, girl. Your pretty face won’t save you from my blade.” she’d snarled. It took all that was in me not to balk, though my teeth desperately wanted to chatter.

“I’m using your own words against you, Captain.” I responded, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. “Don’t blame me if they don’t line up the way you want.”

“One more word out of you -- “

“I’ll give you two: get. Fucked.” that had torn it. The rippling gave way to something that I’d come to expect. This was no run of the mill spirit: Captain Fresni was either a wraith or a revenant. The only real difference between the two was the level of violence capable. A wraith tends to hunt one person, or their family. A revenant hunts whoever they want...and now I was on the list. I couldn’t fight her here, not out in the open. She’d tear me to shreds. Already her jaw was gaping, revealing razor teeth. Her nails, cut short, were lengthening into something akin to talons...and believe me when I say those things hurt.

I feel no shame in saying I sprinted below deck and ducked into the galley proper. I wish I hadn’t. She wasn’t just killing people, she was eating them. Body parts, half chewed, dangled from the ceiling and littered the ground. My hand clapped over my mouth and nose to keep the smell out and my dinner in. I heard her footsteps and, as silently as I could manage, I checked my firearm. Peace was still locked, cocked and ready to rock. Well, not cocked. Gun safety, kids.

I pulled one of Elinor’s special bullets out of the cylinder. What made these so special is that, instead of lead, bone served as the projectile. The easiest way to deal with something dead is by using something dead against it. I don’t ask where Elinor gets her bone, and I think I’ll be perfectly happy to continue not knowing.

[Editor’s note: I know. It’s horrific.]

“Little pet, little pet, where are you?” she crooned. Well, I say crooned...more like...rattled. A revenant’s physiology is strange, but once they reveal their form it’s almost as if their bodies begin to decay. I peeked around the corner to see her back facing me. I took aim and...nothing. My gun clicked loud enough to sound like a scream in an empty hallway, but no roar of igniting gunpowder. She turned and...smiled. I think. “There you are.”

“Here I am.” I responded, standing on shaking legs. “Soup’s on, Captain.” she ran at me, talons held out at her sides like sabers. I did the only sane thing I could think of: I ducked as she swung. Luckily, the big swing didn’t hit me. Unluckily, she had another hand. Claw. Whatever.

So, there I was, a talon embedded in my shoulder and blood gushing from the wound like a waterfall. A little known fact about revenant wounds: leave the talon in. If it’s withdrawn the wound will immediately fester and become gangrenous. A lot of PEs have died that way.

I slammed the barrel of my gun against the base of her claw and it snapped off. She screamed her pain and rage and took another swipe at my torso. I barely managed to get far enough back in time. The fact I had to compensate for a long talon still imbedded in my shoulder didn’t mean much, as I was operating off a cubic fuckload of adrenaline. She did however manage to shred my tanktop. Which sucked, because I loved that thing. Said “Boss Ass Bitch” on it and everything...I guess I could see if Ramona would make me another one...

[Editor’s note: RIP tank top. Ramona is making another one at the time of writing.]

I sprinted past her, she’d over balanced and given me time to escape. I went down, back to the cells. I was soaked in a cold sweat by now and thankful that my hair tie had held, despite my panicked movement. I smoothed the strands away from my sweat soaked face and looked for a place to hide. Nothing was presenting itself...but an idea struck. It was a stupid idea. A terrible idea. I ran into a cell and pressed my back to the wall.

When Fresni reappeared, she was smiling. “Ran out of room to run, little rat?”

“Seems that way.” I panted. My head was spinning from the loss of blood. Thankfully, that brief moment I spent pressed against the wall had redoubled my courage...and helped me remember one little fact. “Look, Cap...I’m dead. We both know it. The second this talon is removed, my life is over...so...I guess I’m askin’ if that place on your crew is still available.”

That shocked her, if only for a moment. “You can’t lie your way out of this one.”

“No lie. Kill me now. I’d rather just go ahead and get it over with, thanks.” I said, praying that this would work. If it didn’t well...you wouldn’t be seeing this, would you?

She approached, brandishing those eight inch talons. She clicked them together, thoughtfully. “Stand still, then.” she snarled as I held my breath. “One through the heart, and it’s all over.”

Three more steps. Two. One. I stepped in and latched onto her arm, and...I bit down. I felt fetid blood fill my mouth and choke me. I immediately began to gag and then...voided my stomach, all over my aggressor.

A revenant’s true power isn’t from the change they make, though it definitely looks it. A revenant is best known for it’s insidious way of making the unreal real...so long as its concentration remains undisturbed.

When I finally finished tossing my cookies, I looked up. No ship in sight. Just a revenant, me and glorious land. The sand was disturbed, probably from all my running, and my blood left trails showing my passage. I’d been running in circles for the last hour...while she just watched.

“Shouldn’t play with your food.” I coughed, wiping my mouth. “It’s how you get killed.” she screeched in rage, her partially coagulated blood oozing from the bite mark I’d left. The talon was still lodged in my shoulder. I reached for my gun, ready to put an end to this only to pull out... “A fucking banana? Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

She roared and charged. My weapon, my baby was strapped to the rotten leather of her belt. She’d touched it. No one touched my weapon except Ray***** and myself. Not even Ramona.

That pissed me off in a way that nothing else does.

Naturally, I charged straight for her. She took a swipe with her injured arm, but instead of dodging out of the way, I leapt into it. She made contact, but only with her palm. I felt one of my ribs crack and gasped in pain, pure instinct was the only thing that drove my fist into the shredded flesh on her arm, courtesy of my teeth. She balked and I snatched.

Peace was in my hand, albeit barely. She noticed and lunged again, sending us both into the sand. Her pirate nature showed in the way her head collided with my nose, sending fresh gouts of blood over the both of us. She thought me stunned. An easy kill. She thought wrong.

“Any last words, my pretty?” she cackled, her maw open wide. She wasn’t just going to kill me...I’d pissed her off enough that she was going to bite me. My death wouldn’t just be painful, but slow...and my soul would erode right along with my body.

“Yeah.” I croaked, feeling the end of my stamina quickly approaching. “Choke on it.” I rammed Peace as hard as I possibly could into that gaping maw, hearing her gargle in rage around it. My wrist jerked as I fired once, twice, three times. Bam. Bam. Bam. A faint gargle, a twitch...and about two-hundred pounds collapsed on right on my cracked rib, finishing the job her arm had started and broke the damned thing.

I wheezed beneath the re-corpse for...ten, fifteen minutes? When I finally managed the strength to push her off of me, I immediately emptied the last three rounds into the ruined mess of her skull. Say what you will about my methodology, but I like to be thorough.

It wouldn’t have done just to leave her body there, for a mundane to see. The SC likes it’s secrecy and to risk exposing it? There was no faster way to end a career than to leave a loose end behind. I made the long trek back to the car and returned with the kerosene can. I stood by the raging fire until there was nothing but ash and blackened bone...though I know a certain lich who could make use of revenant bone.

All in all, a happy ending. Had a vampire doc fix up my shoulder to avoid dying of infection. Rosie paid me what I was owed and Elinor bought the bone off of me for further profit. Sure, my shoulder still hurts so damned bad that I can barely lift it, but...thanks to Ramona, it’ll be healed up in no time. Probably.

Yo-ho-ho, mother fucker. Case closed.

Editor’s farewell: This is the first case file VT asked I upload. It’s one she’s particularly proud of and one with a satisfactory ending. There may be names or terminology that you are unfamiliar with, but I have taken the time to star each of them as to explain. They are as follows:

SC*: Supernatural Community. This is self explanatory. Includes all beings, regardless of death, undeath or birth. IE vampires, ghosts, revenants, werewolves

Cluster**: A colloquial term amongst PEs. Used in reference to a small locale with a massive collection of spirits. Usually all working as a coordinated group.

Elinor***: Elinor Lyktor. Lich. Proprietress of Ellie’s, a shop frequented by PEs for their gear. Specializes in Osteomancy.

Ramona****: Ramona Torrez. Witch. A close friend of VT’s. Offers support, healing and consultation. A good 75% of VT’s equipment is blessed by Ramona.

Ray*****: Raleigh Kane. Gunsmith. Took the name Ray from her father, proprietress of Ray’s Armory. Forced into the Supernatural Community by VT during a case. Since, she has dedicated her craft to making weapons to deal with the malignant forces that threaten the community as a whole. Extensively researches customers and will not sell her works to those she does not trust.

#tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: blood #tw: gun play #tw: gun violence #tw: gore #tw: death #tw: dark content #tw: rape mention #horror #pirates #ghosts #VTverse #writing #OC

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ainserenity · 4 years

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Hello Guys!

Today I’m going to talk about something outside my comfort zone which is SAVING money in your 20s. I really don’t think that I am suitable to talk about this topic because there are times that I still struggle but then who doesn’t, right?

Anyways, I know that you might ask, why 20′s? Why not younger or older? First of all, ANY AGE IS A GOOD AGE TO SAVE MONEY!! It’s just that I had this thought that when we were younger, probably when we were teenagers, the money that we have are from our parents and if they are from out parents then there’s a big chance that its just enough. Enough for the day or week to buy ourselves some food or materials needed for projects and whatnot. I don’t want kids to suffer, if its just enough then go ahead and spend it on good food or make their projects as amazing as they can. It would be truly wonderful if they can budget but if not then they shouldn’t really limit themselves.

So, Why in our 20′s? It’s because this is the age when we start to find a good paying job which means that the money we spend are from our own pockets. Also, in this day and age, we are often surrounded buy influencers and advertisements that tells us that we need something even though that we don’t. In other words we are easily persuaded, specially if you know that you have a money to spend in your bank accounts.

So, my first tip is Before buying, #1 ASK YOURSELF THE QUESTIONS:

Do I need it? - Do you need it or you are just admiring it?

Why do I need it?- If you said Yes I need in first question then ask yourself again Why do you need it?

When/How I am gonna use it? - If you have an answer for 2nd questions then ask yourself again, When and How will you use it. This time if you need to give 3 answers because if not then I tell you the item that you are admiring is not worth it and you are putting your money in the trash.

#2 DON’T BE PERSUADED BY INFLUENCERS AND ADVERTISEMENTS What works with others may or may not work for you. The job of influencers are to influence you to buy the product that they are using.But, guess what? They didn’t even bought it!!!! It was sponsored which means that they got the product for free. They are being paid to influence you and you have to keep that in mind.

Also, try to delete the shopping apps in your phone because these apps are only calling your attention so that you can use them. As long as you have apps that calls your attention to spend money then its quite difficult to control your budget at all because you will keep coming back to use them. Just try to download them again if there’s something really important or necessary that you want to buy. Also, and most importantly is that YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO JOIN ANY SALE. Don’t pressure yourselves to buy something just to join a sale. Nowadays people get so hype up with the advertisements of upcoming sale as if its mandatory to join. There will always be an upcoming sale because that is a Marketing Strategy to call the attention of consumers. So do not join the bandwagon!!

#3 30 DAY PLAN If there is something that you badly wanna buy, make a 30 day plan first before purchasing the item. It’s much better to plan ahead of time before buying an item impulsively because this means that you get control your budget without affecting your savings or personal money. A 30 day plan is a plan on how you can save money in order to purchase the item you want in the span of 30 days. For example,you will keep 100 bucks everyday for 30 days or maybe longer. In this way it will be more meaningful to you once that you have the item. As they say, it’s gonna be worth the wait.

#4 SAVINGS ACCOUNT Try to open another bank account that is intended only for your savings. In your salary day try to transfer at least 2% of your salary in that account and do not bring the ATM card with you so that you won’t get tempted to spend it. Also, do not constantly check how much you’ve saved and think as if you never have this savings account because if you do then you will start creating scenarios on how you wanna spend it. This will help you to not be in control by your impulsive decisions.

For now, I only have 4 tips to you guys and I hope it’ll help you. Again, I am no professional in this matter and I also struggle but then I learned that we never know what’s gonna happen in the future and the only thing we can do is to be prepared. Specially during this pandemic there are a lot of uncertainties that came our way. Be mature enough to handle your finances.

#Savings #Save Money #Motivations #Tips #blog post #morning routine #Saving money #Money #Finances

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Paul Dini’s Jingle Belle: “Sanity Clauses” review or Santa’s Court Ordered Family Therapy Holiday Special

Merry Christmas everyone! I”m finally back on the reviewing reindeer after a week out with a cold, aside from the usual ducktales review, and it’s once again a comission from friend of the blog and the only guy who pays me for reviews weirdkev27. If you have your own holliday hyjinks you’d like me to review I do reviews of television and comics for 5 dollars an episode/issue, wtih variable prices for trades in comics case depending on length. Hit me up via my dm’s here on tumblr or send me an ask for my discord if you want to know more. WIth that plug out of the way away we go. This one was a bit unusual... in that when Kev bought it up I assumed he was going to buy a few issues of Jingle Belle, Paul Dini’s creator owned character we’re talking about today, and just have me review those. What I didn’t realize is he was buying me the full package, a collection of pretty much every jingle belle tale, as well as the released after it “Handmade’s Tale”. one shot. So yeah, while I had’nt really thought of rules for this kind of thing before from now on your free to buy a work for me to review... just keep in mind i’ts both not required for me to review something, and will not wave the commission fee as I use those fees to pay bills, buy things I need like charger cables, and just generally keep my bank account afloat while I look for a day job.

But... since I hadn’t firmly established any of this yet, and since Kev’s gift means a bunch more commissions from a guy who not only made sure I could afford Christmas, but who has provided me steady work while i’m out of work... this one’s on the house. So with all the jargon settled, who is Jingle Belle? Jingle Belle is an indie comics character created and owned by Paul Dini in 1998. Paul Dini is an animation god, who thanks to this review I know more about his career than I did before and as much as I always should have. Dini got his start in the 80′s, writing for everything from He Man to Gary Coleman Adventures, before getting called up to the big leagues for Tiny Tune Adventures around the time of the animation renaissance. To my shock, as I wasn’t aware he wrote for that fine program, he wrote 35 episodes including my personal favorite Prom-ise her Anything. But while a talented comedy writer, his main talent would show when he moved on to Batman the Animated Series as a writer and story editor. He was one of the main creative forces along with Bruce Timm, with the two going on to make the DCAU, aka some of the best superhero shows ever made, after already making easily one of if not THE best with BTAS. And Timm’s influence showed, Co-Creating Harley Quinn with Timm, and writing the series best episode Heart of Ice, which reworked Mr Freeze from a hoaky silver age villian into the tragic and thoroughly sympathetic character he’s been since that episode. Seriously that’s another one to add to the review pile.. which is giant and sentient at this point. And seriously EVERY episode on his imdb page credits is an utter classic and one I remember fondly. The guy is one of the most talented and seemingly nicest guys in the business and both the world of batman and the world of animation owe him a LOT. So to my surprise, I found out in the 2000′s he had a comic, Jingle Belle.. then for whatever reason just never dug into it till now. But now post digging Jingle Belle is Paul Dini’s long running series of one shots and series at various companies following the adventures of Santa’s rebellious teenage-ish daughter.. techincally she’s in the 200′s but still looks and acts like a teenager. The idea came about when he got a christmas card from Stephen Speilberg, and wondered how the kids of famous folks dealt with that and if they resented their famous fathers. And whose more famous than santa?. The series spins both out of that brilliant idea and out of Dini’s love for sunday comic strips, back when the panels were larger and creators were given more freedom to go nuts, though even today i’ve seen plenty of great stuff so it’s not all lost pauly. So in that spirit rather than one long ongoing Jingle Belle is instead a series of one shots, stories in anthologies and what have you, one and done stories more focused on the comedy. The comic has bounced around from various publishers, starting as something pitched to Oni Press, home of Scott Pilgrim and not much else, and has bounced around various publishers since, most recently ending up at IDW, where the trade i’m reading from comes from. So how does a great concept from one of the world’s most creative minds shake out? Let’s unwrap this present and find out.

We open with an appropriately christmasy rhymey opening as we get the story of Jingle Belle: She’s the daughter of santa claus and mrs. claus, in this case the Queen of the Elves. Which isn’t established until the next story but whatever. And as you’d expect she grew up a cheery, rosey little girl who loved helpiing dad in the workshop.. then everything changed when puberty attacked.

As you can see Jingle is now your standard Bratty Teenage Daughter sterotype. At least in this story. See this initial story feels much like a pilot: It’s clear things aren’t ironed out 100% for the idea, and i’ts more a self contained way to get across the general idea, that being Santa has a rebellious teen daughter, via what comes off as an snl skit in comic book form. THat’s not an insult, it’s a GOOD snl skit, and I am genuinely surprised only one movie company’s attempted adapting this comic: the concept is great. I’m just letting you know what i’m working with is all.

So naturally as a high concept comedy skit, Jing soon, after sharing some cigarettes with the local eskmo boys and accidently lighting her Reindeer’s butt on fire and wrecking her sleigh and some surrounding property, Santa is at his witt’s end and we end up in family therapy. And honestly.. Santa in a family therapists office is a great concept. IT’s why I compare it to a sketch: It’s just a simple one line proposal that’s really damn funny and really damn eye catching. It’s often REALLY hard to get a good santa parody going, so I admire how well he pulled it off here. But what really centers it is Jing giving her side, making her a bit more than the mostly one dimensional bratty rebellious daughter she’s been pegged as. Oh sure tha’ts still mostly what she is here, I’ll leave it to later stories to flesh her out hopefully, but she gives vallid reasons WHY she acts out: She points out no one even knew Santa had a daughter, and she has no songs or specials or any of that about her. The most Santa can offer up is “Jingle Bells” because the boys say “jingle all the way”... which really, especially in 2020, just makes HIM come off worse for not only slut shaming his daughter, but that the best defense he can offer is “Well some local boys talk about how you boned them that counts right?”.

That.. poorly aged joke aside Jingle brings up another good point on how sh’es on his shit list.. errr.. naughty list. Still a good gag. And yeah the therapist is understandably surprised Santa dosen’t give his own daughter presents, though his wife does give a valid counter to that: He has to hold a higher standard than anybody.

And that’s why I’m really intrigued by this concept and want to read more: WE have plenty of stories about Santa’s kids, i’ll grant, from him adopting a kid like in elf, to him passing on the legacy with films like Arthur Christmas and Fred Claus, or even just films about his legacy, like the Santa Claus, aka that time Santa died and his clothes forced Tim Allen into a job he dosen’t want with weight and beard gain he didn’t ask for via yuletide mummy’s curse to become the new santa and nearly loose custody of his child. What i’m saying is the concept is inherently fascinating and The Santa Clause is deeply terrifying if you stop to think about it for two seconds.. as is the sequel what with it’s Nazi Robot Santa Claus Tim Allen. Yes really.

But this one’s unique in that it’s not about the legacy. Oh sure Santa tries to get Jing interested, and his last attempte wound up with them having to take the bus, another great gag and i’m glossing over most because this is a very funny little comic, but the main focus is more on what kind of pressure that puts on a kid: wouldn’t you rebel too if your parents wanted you to be perfect and to follow in the family business of being basically a perfect human being? Jing herself sums it up perfectly towards the end of the story.

Granted after a tearful hug, Jing internally says “that new snowboard is mine.. but i’ts hard not to feel that a godo chunk of this is genuine. Sure she’s playing her parents a bit but.. you’d crack too if your dad was freaking Santa. I’m really intrigued to see where this goes both comedically and character stuff wise.

So we end on another christmasy narration bit as Belle plays good for a while, snapping only when it docent seem like she gets her snowboard. A comedy ending and an eh one. Not the best honeslty, I feel the comci would’ve been better ended just at the snowboard is mine bit, but i’ve seen worse.

Final Thoughts: A really good story. WHile it’s rough around the edges, clearly Dini and others have buffed them out over two decades, and i’m really intrigued to see more of this this holiday season and others. Again some parts, mostly playing Jing being sexually liberated for “OH HAW HAW SHE’S A SLUT” laughs is cringe inducing, but most of the jokes have aged well and for a pilot it’s not bad. I really look forward to reading more of the character and diving into her this season and beyond.

Until then be good to one another, have a happy holidays and always remember: There's always another rainbow.

#christmas #jingle belle #santa claus #mrs claus #paul dini #oni press #comics #review #comics reviews

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fandomluver-101 · 4 years

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Sweet Elite Chapter 8

So I have finally finished playing the last chapter! You would think I’d hate playing a game where I’m in school when IRL college is kicking my ass, but to each their own, LOL.

Anyways, I finished playing it and though I found it enjoyable, I’m not all that sure I truly enjoyed it. I normally don’t make my own reviews of the game and just leave comments on ones posted by others, but I decided to post it because why not!

If you’re interested in a spoiler filled review, just click that “keep reading” below ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓

First off, I like to write my little fanfics for my enjoyment (I’ve never posted any of them, but I have them in existence via USB lol). I’m probably gonna reference what I’ve written for Tadashi’s arc for comparison, so don’t try looking for them!

When I play Sweet Elite, I also like to record my screen so I can keep track of my choices (and compare what happens to what I wrote). A single playthrough for the first time and this is the longest I’ve spent on a chapter, a whole 2 hours and a half! Not a bad thing of course considering it was a major arc and expected to be on the longer side. But I feel like for the length, I didn’t get much Love Interest interactions because you’re forced to spend fairly equal amount of time with everyone (I played on my Tadashi account first since I had the most AP on that one).

I shall start with things I liked about the chapter, which wasn’t much to be honest?

1 - Tadashi not knowing what the Grammy’s was is hilarious to me (and also kinda sad because that kinda shows how much of a childhood he lacked since the average person would at least know the name!). That whole interaction was nice to see since it showed TadAxel having a non-arguing conversation, but the “Granny’s” was a major highlight.

2 - Neha hinting once again that she might be a scholarship student (because mentioning that scholarship students don’t have to advertise that they’re one is a major thing to introduce and not expect me to run with). And I interpreted how she responded to Karolina supporting Tadashi despite the scandal more of her being a bit jealous because I can only imagine how she’d react if Neha actually is a scholarship student (though Tadashi becoming one himself might soften Karolina up into accepting that your parents’ money doesn’t make you almighty).

3 - Ellie just being Ellie. Lordy she’s adorably terrifying and those are the best short friends to have because they keep you on your toes (and are totally down to hunting for the obscure or raiding Area 451).

4 - Tyler basically being how I felt playing as Scholar because the whole “I’m not doing shit while everyone else is offering something major in their super-awesome ways” was easy to recognize with.

So my first complaint is the convoluted plan to get Tadashi proven innocent/uninvolved in Hiroshi’s yakuza crap. I get the whole lie to the dad to make him think he’s on his side thing since it would get him half of his money back. But what I envisioned in my head and wrote down centered around my Scholar recording the conversation between Tadashi and his dad (which Tadashi did himself, which still makes it a viable plot-point) and them using the script/email from the lawyer and the bank statements of his dad taking all of his money to show him as a victim?

The video idea wasn’t bad and was also something I wrote for my BCP Scholar fanfiction (she’s marketing and PR with her own little company managing social media accounts, so the idea and image control was her main addition to help out). So I don’t know if I’m just being my biased ass self and preferring my solution (release the proof of blackmail, show Tadashi is a victim, have Tegan hack Nakano Corp.’s CCTV/security footage to get timestamps of Tadashi not being present for mafia meetings, have him testify against his father).

None of what was shown in the video could have really proven any sort of innocence to be honest. Tadashi could’ve easily pulled whatever texts and emails he wanted, so unless he showed the one from the lawyer essentially extorting him to testify in his father’s favor, I don’t see how that on its own would have helped with anything.

Adding the recording to the beginning of the video during editing would have been something to warrant all the positive response to the video. I know the recording is used to try and force Nakahoe Senior into giving Tadashi the rest of his money, but it was also the only logical way to prove Tadashi was without a doubt a victim too (and Tegan could easily get the money back himself or there could have been something about the mom, which I’m gonna talk about later in this post).

IRL, people would point out that Tadashi could easily be lying through his teeth about not being involved. So that’s kind of a plot-hole since getting the public to see Tadashi in a positive light is important to getting the school board to let him stay (which was incredibly dumb to me because are you really gonna tell me there aren’t students at the school with openly corrupt/mafia/mob/gangster parents using dirty money to keep their children in attendance???) (yes, Jack, I’m talking about your ass).

I could understand forcing him to step down as student body president since Arlington has the position kinda Anime styled where the president is the face of the school and has an absurd amount of responsibility and power (as proven by Ellie’s story of the previous president and the fact that Tadashi can veto someone getting academic amnesty). Them removing him from office was something I expected (though my fanfic had him helping pick a replacement for the rest of the year since that’s how it was done at my old private school). But not wanting him to attend school even though his family could easily pay for his tuition was very out there to me. I suppose having someone with a negative reputation could reflect badly on a top school, but I’m pretty sure private schools need justifications to expel someone and expelling them based on their parents actions seems very illegal to me.

But anyways, the super computer plot to hack Nakahoe Senior’s information was also very weird to me. I justified it by telling myself Scholar is in a school of super rich, super intelligent teenagers, so maybe the most simple approach doesn’t come to mind (I know first hand that smart people have a tendency to overlook the simple solutions without meaning to). It makes sense to make their own computer to not be traced overall, but the purpose it was needed for didn’t make much sense in the grand scheme of things (because they didn’t really use the information they found, so what was the point of finding it other than being a hundred percent sure on Hiroshi being corrupt?).

And then while I was playing and listening to my commentary, I again was reminded about how confused I was that calling Hiroshi in jail and keeping him on the line long enough to trace the transaction was necessary? Because I don’t think that’s how that works? If it was to track his location, then maybe, but I don’t think Tegan would need Tadashi to keep Hiroshi on the line to trace a bank transaction or get into Hiroshi’s accounts (but that’s me being nitpicky I think).

Then what they found, IE the gibberish in the calendar descrambling to “Yakuza” was a major asspull while I was playing. I wondered why Nakahoe Senior, AKA the Inglorious Bastard and Chessmaster of the arc, would make it so obvious? Let alone actually put that in his planer... If there was a meeting every Friday evening, I figured introducing this would at least lead to something where Tegan finds a way to prove Tadashi wasn’t present or active even phone call wise because he could get the call logs too. Yeah, the emails are important, but wouldn’t footage or flights be better at proving he wasn’t there?

Then Tadashi’s mother, who was never truly introduced, but teased really. It was set up in a way that my fanfic had Nakahoe Senior threatening to setup Tadashi for the fall if she didn’t convince him to testify in Hiroshi’s favor because Alistair mentions how protective she normally is of Tadashi and even Tadashi says that his mom was frantic over the phone. So I don’t know, I was hoping for something with her since she was brought up.

But my major complaint about the story was that Scholar has little influence on what goes on. At first, I thought there would be options based on your Department and maybe your choices during the Department Competition (you pick your concentration during the presentation). Essentially, I was expecting to be asked to pick a task I would do best in (in this playthrough’s case, I expected to be able to help with PR because for the competition, I picked Sociology which is essential in marketing research).

I also expected something similar for others. Business would get to come up with a marketing and PR scheme, utilizing Axel, Karolina, and Neha. Performing Arts or Fine Arts would get to help edit and fine tune the video or make a smear campagne against Nakahoe Senior with Tyler and Raquel. Pure and Applied would get to code with Tegan or build with Ellie. Health Sciences (or any department because you’re Arlington’s Sweetheart) would get to work with Alistair (who knows Tadashi best) and Claire to make Tadashi’s script and showcase him to the world as a victim (which he really is in this situation).

But that didn’t happen. The only things Scholar really does is buy computer parts and talk to Claire and ask her to help Tadashi (and suggest Tadashi ask Neha for help too). Which was a major asspull because during that section before where the group is talking about who should help him write something from the heart, I was expecting (and super hyped for) Scholar to finally have the chance to be useful. They weren’t, not even for Tadashi’s campaigning since all that they did was talk to a few students (which I know is good for campaigning, but not really helpful in the grand scheme of things) (especially because by default, Scholar isn’t good at these things even if you’re in a department that’s necessary). I got really happy thinking Scholar would do anything that justifies them being involved as “human resources.”

Then being thanked for not really do anything but being the spectator and emotional support friend kinda bothered me. I’m all for that and sometimes you just need that one friend that’s good at being a support unit (AKA the mom). But even though Tadashi says that Scholar was his main inspiration to defy his parents, that’s not really helping him do that?

How was Scholar instrumental to anything going on? “Waste a couple hours finding pieces for a super computer, something anyone could search for because you can’t code or build things even if you’re in Pure and Applied,” “Go ask Claire to help Tadashi write his speech only for Tadashi to appear and ask her to himself because she would, by default, help anyways and you’re not good at writing a heartfelt speech (which Scholar technically isn’t, but should be if there were more options or at least acknowledged in this situation because why bring up the whole Arlington Sweetheart thing?),” “Get some rest, you deserve it even though you did absolutely nothing beside deliver the computer parts and suggest asking Neha to help.”

To be honest, Scholar may not be as static/pre-determined as most otome games, but Scholar doesn’t have much variety that actually impacts the story. What you’re good and bad at is already determined (like the essay and presentation; you’re automatically not good at it even if you’re Performing Arts or BCP and interested in things that, you know, require being able to give a good presentation).

I would prefer waiting longer to have more meaningful options than getting something quicker and not really being able to do much. Like during the competition where we eavesdrop on people and see the story unfold, that’s what this chapter pretty much was for me.

#Sweet Elite #SE #Sweet Elite Game #SE Game #sweet elite chapter 8 #se chapter 8 #Sweet Elite 8 #SE 8

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prorevenge · 5 years

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The puppet is now the puppeteer.

I'm a fairly new to the whole posting on Reddit thing and have just made this alternative account to share my story. Sorry for any weird formatting, obligatory first-time-poster-long-time-lurker warning.

Also, a TL;DR at the bottom since this is gonna be a long one.

The Context:

When I was four, my mother had just gotten with her new boyfriend. We'll call him B for Bastard. He seemed nice on the surface, he was an illegal immigrant that worked for a factory and lived in a ghetto apartment. But, just under his exterior was a cruel, evil monster that I knew was going to harm my mother and I in some way or another.

Soon after meeting B, my mother and him bought a house under my grandfather's name since they both had poor credit and wanted me in a good school system. We move in fast and get a little dog just before Christmas; we looked like a modern Hallmark family with the kid and the dog and the happy couple.

That is, until B's vibe changed.

He started to look at me in ways that made me uncomfortable. I wanted to tell my mom, but she was a firm believer in the "innocent until proven guilty" idea and I thought she wouldn't believe me. He started exposing himself around me, encouraged me to join him, even touched me in ways I couldn't understand and hated. I was 6.

When I was 8, we began learning what sexual abuse was in households, and I put the pieces together quickly. I still thought that my mother wouldn't believe me, though, and I grew numb to the habitual abuse.

When I was 9, mom got pregnant with my sister. I was nervous and cried every night knowing that she wouldn't be safe from this horrible, gnarly bastard that my mother called her boyfriend.

B refused to pick up extra hours at work when money got tight, so my mom picked up a second job whilst pregnant and he stayed home to watch me. Things only got worse. Then, the physical abuse and extreme mental stress on my mother started around the fourth month. We lost my sister on Christmas Eve, 2009, to a placenta abruption brought on by stress.

I'll never forget the sight of my mother in her dark hospital room. Sitting in her rocking chair. Empty. Lost. Numb.

B turned to me to let his frustrations out, both sexually and physically.

Mom was blissfully unaware as her daughter went into a downward spiral at the age of 11 and developed a phobia of boys even looking at her the wrong way. I made friends with all the weird kids at school, cut my hair, dressed in all black, started picking fights, got bullied for never speaking to anyone outside my tiny circle, and resented her and her precious B. She loved him despite all the abuse, or more so she was scared to leave him for fear of what he might do to her. If only she knew half the shit he did to her daughter.

In 2012, Mom became pregnant again. On October 22, 2012, my brother was born. From the videos I'd been introduced to by B, I knew my brother wasn't going to be safe, either. He swung both ways.

I became fiercely protective of my mother and brother. At the age of 12, I carried around heavy objects and hid them in my room in case he ever tried anything. Sadly, I was a 100 lbs. girl with the upper body strength of a toddler, and he was a fully grown "man" that could easily hurtle me across the states. He also had a zero tolerance policy with my brother for the sole fact that he was a boy.

My brother was born premature and would need the extra help to catch up. This didn't stop his father from beating him when he cried, yelling at him when he played with his toys, reprimanded him for using his left hand more than his right.

He was only 2.

And don't even get me started on when my brother played with the dog.

The dog, J, was starting to come to old age. She was crotchety and didn't like having her hair, ears, or tail pulled. Brother did this on accident one time, and this led to him getting the beating of a lifetime that left him almost mentally retarded, had it persisted. Ironic, too, because B didn't even like the dog. At this point, he was just looking for excuses to control and beat us whenever he could.

Behind the scenes, he also manipulated and threatened my mother. He had control of the bank accounts, health insurance, social security info, all sorts of papers that he could do with what he pleased. Mom, Brother, and I were puppets on strings in this sick household.

Then there was that sunny summer day.

They had gotten into a fight over who even remembers now, and I hear my door slam and lock. "I'm taking this kid with me back to Portugal, and you can't do anything about it, you stupid bitch." Oh, no. Not on my watch. In hysterics, I called the police and alerted them that my mom's now-husband was trying to kidnap my brother, said he was going to bring him back to Portugal and that we would never see him again. They came in an instant, and I jumped out the window to meet with them. My mother, grandmother, and brother had already been pulled from the house. Mom was still in hysterics, clutching her baby. I told the cops my side of things, despite my mother pleading for me to shut up and that everything was fine. Things clearly weren't fine, but when the police took B's testimony, he simply pleaded that he was just trying to take Brandon for a walk.

B was left off with a warning.

I couldn't take it anymore.

This is where the fun begins.

When I was 14, I had a breakdown in front of my mom and told her everything. And I mean, everything. She called him and told him what he told me. He came home immediately, and I could see the fire in her eyes. Sadly, he had more control over him than I thought, for she took his side by brute force and I was silenced. However, now I had the upper hand. I had used my voice to speak, and I could use it again. He became more complacent with me, but not towards my mother and brother. Nonetheless, I used this to my advantage.

With age, I learned how to channel the silver tongue that my birth dad had gifted me with. I told my mother as subtly as possible to watch her husband, for he could molest Brother the same way he did to me. Or even better, he could forget about his family entirely and run off with another woman. Anything went with B. She slowly fell under my word, and the traps laid themselves out without me even having to lift a finger.

When I was 17, B began a new habit of going to the gym.

In his work clothes.

I'm sure you could already see where this was going.

Mother swore to me that after my senior year she would be divorcing this bastardly, sorry excuse for a man. However, I influenced her to keep her eyes open and her peripheral vision even more open. This is how she found the odd charges on her bank statements to numerous bars and hotels for hundreds of dollars. She noticed one singular pattern in the paper bank statements that were sent to us every month (usually B would rip them up right in front of her and told her not to look at them, but this time she got her hands on a duplicate that had been sent to us on request). A hotel near where B worked, along with a bar that was located close to the hotel. He was too full of himself to take her to a hotel, even saying that he wouldn't want to waste a single week of his life in a cramped hotel room with his fat bitch of a wife.

Using the hotel's name, my mother looked it up and began her detective work. She called them one day whilst at work.

"Hi, is this (XXX) Hotel?"

-"Yes, how can I help you?"

"I just wanted to confirm my reservation, it's under '(B)'."

-"One moment, please! ... Alright, yes, you have reservations for the deluxe suite for June XX to June XXX. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Nothing at all, thank you!"

She was seething with pure, unadulterated rage. Turns out he was cheating on her with a husband and wife that he worked with.

She left work early to get me and Brother from our grandparents' house, and she told me everything in hushed tones so that Brother couldn't hear. I told her that I'd told her so, and that she did the right thing. That day, we packed up our shit and said good-bye to the haunted house that we'd lived in for so long. The perfectly manicured lawn and driveway, the white picket fence, and the beautiful shrubs were going to be a huge hit on the housing market.

He tried to hunt us down that day, but we hid out at a church that was far from the town that we had just resided in for 13 years of our lives. That summer, we lived with grandma and grandpa. That was the happiest and most free we'd all ever felt. Too bad J wasn't there to see it all, since we had been forced to put her down due to a severe heart murmur, but trucking her ashes around was enough for me.

That same year in October, we moved into a new house in the boondocks of my mother's old town and made it our own. B was left homeless, drinking himself to death because he had lost everything--his family, his wealth that poured in from my mother's significantly greater paycheck, the house, the luxury cars, the picture-perfect family that he kept on tight strings for far too long. He now resides with his second mistress, since none of his family or "friends" wanted to take his dog ass in. He lives in constant fear, too, because he knows what I did and he knows what he did. He knows that I can get him deported any day of the week, so he treads on egg shells and is as compliant with me as possible. I wish I could say the same with my mother, but I'm not afraid. I know where he lives, and since I've gotten back in contact with my father (he had been locked up for those 13 years due to evading child support and drug dealing), I've learned how to be the one with the leash. No more cowering in fear, thinking that one night he could go on a rampage and kill all of us. No more long nights of staying awake to make sure he didn't go into Brother's room to have his way with him. No more calling the police, manipulating, begging, and pleading with my mother to do the right thing. I have him on a short leash, and any day now I can turn out the real dogs on him: my own pent-up rage, and ICE.

Don't get me wrong, I actually quite hate my mother for more recent things she's been doing, however I'll give credit where it's due. I'm so proud of her for taking action after 13 years of being imprisoned by the man she was forced to call her husband.

TL;DR: Mom's ex husband controls myself, my mom, and my little brother for years. I gain some control, use it to convince my mom to look into his actions. She soon after leaves and divorces him, and she and I end up running his life back into the mud where it should've remained.

(source) story by (/u/CollegeAnon2022)

#prorevenge #by /u/CollegeAnon2022 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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quickeningheart · 5 years

Text

Seventeen

When Charley entered the apartment at the end of the day, she was greeted with the rich scent of chocolate. Her mouth watered as she inhaled deeply, and her stomach growled; she hadn't gotten around to lunch, after all. Or much of a breakfast, for that matter. "Is that chocolate cake I smell?" she called.

The bathroom door opened and Alley's head popped out. "Better," she replied.

"Better than chocolate cake?" Charley lifted one of the towels spread over a baking sheet, eyes widening at the sight of round, red cakes cooling on them. "Are those…?"

"Red velvet whoopie pies. They were your favorite, right?" Alley approached with a grin, pulling off a pair of rubber gloves. The heavy scent of cleaning chemicals and air-freshener followed in her wake. "I still have to add the filling, yet."

"Who needs filling?" Charley picked up a still-hot cake, juggling it between her hands, and took a large bite. She sighed blissfully. "Still as good as I remember!" She finished it off in two more bites, sucking the sticky crumbs from her fingers.

"That's great, Charley, but now there's a pie without a top."

"Oh, well, we can take care of that." She picked up another pastry and wolfed it down.

Alley laughed. "I think those boys have been a bad influence on you," she teased.

Her cousin just smirked. "So what brought on this rabid bout of baking?" She glanced at the four trays of cakes sitting on the table, waiting for their filling.

Alley fidgeted. "I made them for you. As an apology," she admitted. "I'm sorry I said all those things in front of your friends. I wasn't trying to embarrass you or make you look bad or anything. I was just worried."

Charley grinned and shrugged. "Well, no big surprise. The filter between your brain and your mouth never did work right."

Alley stuck her tongue out, slapping Charley's hand away when she reached for another pie. "I'm being serious! I feel really bad about it."

"Look, I'm honestly not that upset. Just my pride got a little bruised, is all. But you know I'm not the type to hold grudges. Besides, something good came from it."

Alley raised an eyebrow when her cousin blushed faintly, a goofy smile spreading over her face. "You look like a teenager crushing on the hot guy in class," she teased.

"He is pretty hot," Charley agreed, laughing when Alley pulled a face. "Or maybe older men are more your type," she added slyly, "given that little scene I walked in on this morning and all…"

"That was—!" Alley blushed to the roots of her hair. "That was…"

"Kinda hot, is what is was," Charley snickered. "Another second and the kitchen might've erupted in flames."

"Another second and I'd have punched that letch through the wall!"

"Hmmm." Charley eyed her cousin thoughtfully. "If you really wanted to punch him, seems to me you'd 've done it."

"What are you implying?" Alley huffed. "That I'm giving in to his charms? No way! I'm not into furries. Especially old furries."

Charley laughed. "So you admit he has charms, eh?"

"What? That isn't—!" Alley pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, if you want to date Vinnie, that's all fine and dandy. Knock yourself out, I'm honestly happy that you're happy. But please just … don't…" She faltered, not wanting to upset her cousin all over again. "I'm not—"

"Okay, okay. Relax," the mechanic soothed. "I was only teasing. I understand. I really do, and I promise not to say anything else about it, all right?" She drew a line across her lips, turning an imaginary key.

"Thank you," Alley replied with a sigh, opening the fridge to grab a bowl full of whipped filling. She offered it with a sheepish smile. "Want to help me frost?"

"Only if I get to lick the spatula."

She snickered. "You're such a kid."

"Damn straight. Keeps me young." Charley grinned and riffled around in the bottom cabinets until she unearthed an ancient Tupperware container. She pursed her lips, eyeballing the container, then the cakes. "Ummm … pretty sure all these ain't gonna fit in here."

"Is that the only container you have?" Alley looked horrified.

Charley chuckled. "I'm no master chef. Never needed more than one before."

"I'm just gonna have to buy you the whole damn kitchen and be done with it," the blonde grumbled.

"Like you can afford that."

"I can with the jewels Stoker left behind."

There was a marked silence; Alley reached up to pull down several dinner plates from the cabinet, deliberately ignoring the irritation on her cousin's face.

"I told him I didn't want his charity!" Charley burst out.

Alley pursed her lips, setting the plates down with a thunk and fixing her cousin with a hard stare. "That's your ego talking. Can't you tell the difference between charity and a heartfelt gift? But, whatever. Since you didn't want it, he gave it to me, instead."

"And you have no problems accepting handouts."

"I fail to see how this is a handout," Alley replied, pulling a roll of wax paper from a drawer and tearing several sheets from it to line the plates. "He found the jewelry, didn't he? And he already took what he needed from it. The rest of the jewels are just junk to him. But they're worth a pretty penny to most humans. So, rather than tossing out some incredibly valuable rocks, he deemed it more economical to give the rest to you, so you can take what you need from them. I don't think that's charity so much as some pretty damned useful recycling."

Charley opened and closed her mouth several times, trying for a retort, but finding none forthcoming. She huffed and picked up a well-worn spatula, using it to slap a large dollop of filling onto half of a pie. She used a little too much force, however; the pastry crumbled easily, leaving a red and white gooey mess sitting in her palm. She scowled down at it for a second, until a choked giggle had her switching her glare to Alley, instead, who was doing a poor job of hiding her amusement. "Shut up," she grumbled, flinging the mess at her. It landed smack-dab in the center of Alley's chest, earning an outraged squeak.

The tension broke as Charley broke into giggles of her own, her irritation melting away. "Okay," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose I might have possibly let my ego overrule my common sense on this subject, but it doesn't sit right with me to just be handed a huge amount of money like that." She sighed, turning on the sink to wash her hand off. "I busted my ass to get this garage up and running, and to keep it going despite everything conspiring to shut me down. To accept help, no matter how well-intended, just feels too much like … giving up. Like admitting I can't do it."

"Nobody would believe that," Alley scolded, dabbing at the frosting on her shirt. "Those guys wouldn't think less of you. You mean the world to them. They just want to help, the same way you've been helping them all this time. You consider each other family, right? Isn't family supposed to support each other when it's needed?"

"You make a good point," Charley conceded.

"I've made a lot of good points. You just didn't want to listen to them. And I guess that was my fault, too."

"Well." Charley leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "I'm listening now. Do you have anything else to say about my business practices that you think I should know?"

"Actually…" she hedged, "I think I've got an idea that might solve some of your problems. At least on a temporary basis."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well, in regards to those gems, if you're that determined to keep your garage running by yourself, why not just sell them and open a separate bank account with the money? It could be like a … a disaster relief fund or something."

"A what?"

"Give the guys the money. They don't have any of their own, right? In that sense, they're way worse off than you," Alley pointed out. "You can set up an account for them, under your name."

"Okay…" Charley nodded. "And doing that would accomplish … what, exactly?"

Alley rolled her eyes. "Well, for one thing, if they put any more holes through your doors, or manage to blow up some of the much-needed equipment to do your work, they can actually pay for it, for a change. Rather than you dipping into your own savings to cover replacement parts or whatever, dip into theirs, instead." She held up a finger. "And also! Those fancy, highly-expensive upgrades you're always giving those bikes of theirs? You'll no longer have to pay for them yourself."

"That doesn't seem right, making them pay for stuff I always offered for free," Charley protested.

"What's the big deal? Not like they actually earned any of that hypothetical money," Alley pointed out dryly.

Well, Charley could hardly argue with that logic. She huffed a laugh and shrugged. "I guess it's not bad, as far as ideas go," she grudgingly admitted. "It doesn't really work as a long-term solution, though."

"Well, no, I did say it was temporary. Whatever money the gems bring in would run out eventually, but at least it'd give you a chance to catch up and rebuild your finances. Take some of the pressure off, for a while at least."

Charley tapped her chin, staring into space as she thought. "I'll talk it over with the guys," she decided. "See what they think."

"That mean you'll do it?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to give it a try." She shrugged. "It'll get those furballs to stop nagging at me, if nothing else." She grinned and shook her head, shooting Alley an impressed glance. "Really, I dunno how you do it. First, getting them to eat something other than junk food, and now this. All these years with them constantly putting holes through my walls and now they suddenly grow a conscience about it. Did you take a class or something? Guilt Trip 101?"

Alley scoffed. "Please. Have you met my mother? That woman's got guilt-tripping down to a science, and she's practiced on me my entire life. Those guys never stood a chance!"

#Biker Mice from Mars #BMFM #bmfm fanfiction #Charley #OC #The Talk

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lubdubsworld · 6 years

Text

Yours, Truly.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“Well, that’s that I guess.” I watched the men from the creditor’s office load the last of the crate into the huge moving van, while the man himself gave me a sympathetic smile, signing off on the cheque.

“We tried to make this as easy for you as possible, Miss. Yoongi ssi told us about your situation and while there’s nothing we can do about it, in terms of the apartment, we do intend to reimburse you the difference from the valuable items you just sold off, once the debt is paid.”

I waved him off.

“you can put it in my bank account, though we both know it’s not going to be much.”

My phone rang again and I frowned at the name on the contact list. Lee Shin.

Shin was Wonho’s immediate boss, and a sleaze by every standard. I hadn’t enjoyed any of our previous interactions, partly because he made it abundantly clear that he was interested , and partly because he was just extra touchy in general. Wonho had never taken my complaints seriously, asking me to take it as a compliment instead of raising flags over it, always claiming that he couldn’t risk his position in the company.

which was ridiculous when i thought about what he’d gone ahead and done. I pushed the thought behind. The past week had been a very torturous kind of hell. I hadn’t been able to get in touch with Wonho or his lawyer and a part of me just wanted to storm in and shake some sense into him. But a part of me had always known that this would happen, or so it felt.

Wonho had always been easily influenced. Even during our marriage he seldom argued with me, always going along with whatever i suggested. At the time , I had chalked it up to him being crazy in love with me. Apparently , it was nothing more than a lack of backbone.

Wonho was a coward and he had ruined my life.

The phone kept ringing, drawing me back to the present.

Groaning a little, I picked up the phone.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, Mr. Lee.” I said, keeping my voice even. Somewhere behind me , i could hear Yoongi rattling around in the back of his car, which now had three suitcases worth of my clothes and a small box of stuff from my childhood. I’d tossed the rest of my stuff away, not in any urgency to remember all the ways I’d failed at my marriage. Seven years down the drain.

The more i thought about it, the more I wanted to claw my ex-husband’s face off.

“..... So , what I was saying is that , you’re welcome to move in with my wife and I, until you get back on your feet. What do you say to that, love?”

I grimaced , Yoongi catching the tail end of my expression and raising an eyebrow at me. i waved off his concern and turned around to refuse when a sleek white Porsche rolled over to the parking space of my apartment building, A familiar company Logo etched on the hood. i stared in surprise as the driver skillfully parked the car before sliding out from behind the wheel.

I blinked in disbelief as Kim Taehyung straightened, slipping his sunglasses off his face and tucking them in his pocket before looking around. He smiled wide when his eyes met mine, waving cheerfully as he locked his car and began making his way over to me.

“...... Love? You there?” The man’s voice in my ear shook me out of my shock and I hummed in confusion before shaking my head.

“Uh.. No sir. That wouldn’t be necessary at all... I do have a place to stay , but thank you for offering.” I said , just as Taehyung stepped up to me, his beautifully crafted brows rising to his hairline as he tilted his head curiously at my words.

I smiled helplessly.

“No, no. i absolutely refuse to take no for an answer, my love. i know Wonho did you dirty but you should know, not all men are like that and I , for one, think that a girl like you.....”

“who’s the guy?” Taehyung said loudly, startling me as he leaned in , pretending to listen in and i drew back.

“It’s nothing... I... Mr. Lee. Like I said, i don’t need a place to stay for the night....and...”

“Wait, Lee Shin? Wonho’s boss?” Taehyung’s jaw hardened.

i nodded and the next second, the phone got snatched out of my ears, Tae pressing the speaker button as he frowned.

“Come on, sweetheart. That bastard didn’t know how to appreciate a good thing when he had it. I’m not like that. i could take real good care of you, you know... In return for a little bit of your company. If you’re good to me, i could be persuaded to be very generous.....” The man’s voice filled the air and i felt my entire body flush in disbelief and offence.

“What the fuck did you just say, you nasty son of a bitch?!!” Yoongi’s voice came loud and angry next to me and I flinched when my best friend reached for the phone but Taehyung shook his head.

“Mr. Lee. This is kim Taehyung, your CEO. I’ve recorded your phonecall to Y/N and trust me, this is going to play key evidence in the hearing you have scheduled tomorrow for harassing your secretary. I don’t like predicting outcomes , not without all the facts but something tells me that you’re going to lose your job and/or go to prison . So maybe you could tell Wonho about your opinions , in person?”

I heard Mr. Lee splutter over the line before Taehyung hung up, swiftly blocking the man’s number too , before smiling and handing over the phone.

“You’re like a loser magnet, aren’t you?” He said brightly and I grimaced.

“Is that why you’re here?” i shot back and he chuckled deeply, his voice low and warm. Taehyung’s voice was one of the best things about him. It reminded me of hunting cabins, tucked into the woods, with a warm blazing fireplace and soft rugs under my bare foot.

“Fair enough. I just wanted to check in on you. It’s been a week since we talked and i thought you may have changed your mind.” He said softly.

I shook my head swiftly.

“i really don’t think ... i don’t need .....Well, I’m fine. For now.” I waved my hands a little wildly and he hummed.

“Are you sure i couldn’t convince you? i’m kind of in a real fix right now. “ He sighed deeply. “ I really need someone to help me out. My sister is going in for surgery on Thursday and i’ll be having both the twins and the new baby with me for the next three weeks. Yeon Hee is ...well she’s not really a kid-friendly person and i have a bunch of meetings too. I have no experience with babysitters and i was really hoping that you could stay over at my place. it would be a huge help.”

He turned huge brown eyes at me, limpid and soft .

I groaned.

“This is unfair., You’re taking advantage of the fact that I love your sister and i love babies. You’re playing dirty! ” I protested and he grinned wider, boxy smile setting my heart on fire as he waggled his brows.

“Shamelessly.” He agreed.

Yoongi finished locking up the bootspace of his car and slowly sauntered over.

“As long as you pay her , she’s available.” He said teasingly and I shoved him a little.

Taehyung chuckled but his eyes were still vaguely desperate.

“Please, angel. I know you aren’t comfortable with it but i really wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. Jooheon is too young to be with some un-vetted sitter and there is no one in the world i trust more than you.”

I stared at him for a second, shaking my head gently.

“You always know the right things to say, don’t you?” I sighed. “ Fine, but how long are we talking about? I can’t agree to something indefinite...” I said firmly.

“Why don’t we talk about it over coffee?” Taehyung prompted.

Before i could respond, Yoongi snorted.

“And, that’s my cue to leave. Sweetheart, you’ll be coming over right? I’ll get the guest bedroom set up okay?” He kissed me lightly on the cheek and i nodded.

Taehyung gave him a half hug and we both watched as he pulled away from the curb and drove off.

“So.... coffee shop in the corner or Starbucks? “ I said softly and he hesitated.

“I have an espresso machine in my condo.” He said softly and I hesitated.

“Tae...”

“It’s all good, angel. No funny business , i promise. It’s just ...the paparazzi’s been after me ever since I revealed my relationship and I’d rather not have you bear the brunt of it.... you know...if we get spotted together....” he shrugged his shoulders lightly, the movement causing his shirt to stretch out across his broad frame .

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that and i nodded absently.

“Excellent... Come on... Let’s go...” He stepped down the few stairs jumping over a small puddle of water at the base of the stair , on the pavement. But, before I could follow, he turned around, grabbing my waist with both hands and lifting me off the stair. I fell forward into him, his chest pressed right up against mine , impossibly warm and hard underneath me. I gasped in surprise, gripping his shoulders in shock .

His eyes were as wide as mine, as if he had just realized what he’d done.

“Taehyung, what on earth-?” I said sharply and he recoiled like he’d been burned, his long fingers leaving my body quickly.

“shit,.. i’m sorry.. it’s just...there was water and i didn’t want your shoes to get wet..... I’m sorry, angel that was out of line . I apologize.” He held both his hands up and i couldn’t breathe , let alone respond. I managed a weak nod and stuttered, “ It’s alright...” before wrapping both arms around myself almost protectively. I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed, raw and gullible.

I couldn’t even meet his eyes because my heart was pounding so hard inside my chest. i kept a decent distance between us as he walked to his car but I couldn’t stop the way my insides twisted with sudden , hot and intense attraction. After all these years, i still wanted Taehyung with an ache that was fierce and impossible to ignore.

He came here to find a babysitter , not a girlfriend . He already has one of those. A 5′10 supermodel who happens to have the face of a literal goddess........You’re so out of his league here , it’s not even funny, Y/N.

I let him open the door for me, slipping into the heated leather seats. I froze up again for a second, when he put my seat belt on for me.

“Hey...uh... You okay?” He said softly. I managed a weak smile.

“I’m fine, Tae. It’s fine. Really craving that coffee now.” i laughed nervously watching him come around and climb into the seat net to me. He started the car quickly and flashed me another smile.

“You’ll love my sister’s kids. They’re dying to have a cool aunt.” He winked. Something curled inside me.

“Well, they have a supermodel for an aunt. Can’t get cooler than that....” I said shrilly. His smile faltered for a second but he schooled his features quickly.

“I’ve told them all about how you used to sculpt... They love art.”

“I’ll be glad to paint with them.” I said honestly, giving him a little smile and his eyes were so full of warmth , I had to look away. i also realized, what I’d just said.

Taehyung picked up on it quickly.

“So this means you’re going to do it then? Move in with me ?”

He grinned before reaching out and throwing an arm on the back of my seat, before turning around to look as he backed out of the spot. i tried not to stare at the way his large hands looked gripping the steering wheel. Tried not to think about how they’d felt gripping my waist.

“Well, uh... i’m not sure that’s how you should be phrasing that to your girlfriend.” I said weakly and he frowned.

“You’re more worried about her than you should be. Me and Yeon hee...we’re.... it’s nothing serious. We’re friends more than lovers and its a really casual thing.”

I tried not to fidget.

“I’m sure that has nothing to do with me.” i said quickly.

“Y/N...”

“Tae, I’m serious. I just... I just divorced my husband of seven years. I’m not up for these games....”

“These aren’t games, angel...”

“You know what i mean, Tae. I’m still emotionally in a lot of pain...and I know you always hated Wonho ....”

“Damn right I hated him, he took the one thing i wanted in the whole damn world.” Taehyung snapped.

I shut my eyes.

“Taehyung...”

He groaned .

“I’m sorry. You’re right.. it’s just... it’s hard for me to see you ... being upset because of that bastard after everything he did....” He said softly. “He shouldn’t have ever come near you if he wasn’t going to love you right....”

I stared at him. It had been over a decade but he still reminded me of the boy I’d left behind. I could read Taehyung like a book.....

And i thought about Wonho , about how different he had turned out to be, about how easily i’d been fooled. I’d thought I’d known him well, too and look how that turned out....

I didn’t know Taehyung, no matter how achingly familiar he felt.

“ Can we not talk about this...?” I said softly.

He hesitated before nodding.

I sighed and sank back into the seats. It was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : This is short but I hope you guys liked it,.

#taehyung #taehyung fics #taehyung smut #taehyung reactions #bts smut #bts fics #bts reactions #bta scenarios #v smut #v fics #bts v #bts taehyung

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readingraebow · 5 years

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Dark Places Section One

Libby Day (Now) - Libby Day (Now) (approx pages 1-120)

1. Why does Libby not have to work? What does Jeff come to visit her about? In what way might Lyle be able to help solve her problem with Jeff? Libby's entire family was murdered when she was seven and a donation fund was set up for her. When she was eighteen she got access to the fund and she's been living off the money in the thirteen years since then. The fund has expanded a few times due to the tragedy reentering the press and small appearances and such in the years since. But now that Libby is 31, people don't really want to donate anymore because she's a grown woman now and there are new little girls who need their help. That's why Jeff sees Libby. He's basically her accountant/is in charge of the fund and he warns her that there's only 900 and something dollars left in the fund and it's time to start thinking about what to do when the money runs out. He suggests Libby find a job. But a letter from Lyle offers Libby a business proposition. She's to meet with his club and he'll pay her $700 just to show up.

2. When Libby gets to the place where the Kill Club meets, she sees booths all around of people obsessed with different crimes and murders. If you were part of the Kill Club, which crime would you have your booth themed? This is a super hard question because there are honestly so many that interest me? Lizzy Borden, Belle Gunness, Gertrude Banizewski, Aileen Wuornos, The Zodiac Killer, The Golden State Killer, H. H. Holmes (as you can see, American Horror Story has only added to my obsession with serial killers; oops), JonBenét Ramsey, Ted Bundy. But honestly the crime that probably interests me the most/I've researched the most/the one I'm most obsessed with is Columbine. So if I had a whole booth dedicated to something, it would be that one. I can literally talk for hours/days/years about Columbine and one time we had friends staying with us and they mentioned Columbine aND I WHIPPED OUT A POWERPOINT to talk about it. It's fine.

3. When Libby gets a chance to talk to the members of the Kill Club, what does she learn about how some of them feel? What does Libby admit that she didn’t actually see?She learns that most of them think Ben is innocent. One of the members in the group is actively trying to get him out of prison. But most of them think that Libby couldn't have possibly seen what she says she saw and that she was lying and was just led by the prosecution to convict the most easy target. They said the case had a spectacular lack of physical evidence and even Libby's testimony was incoherent at best and, yet, Ben was still convicted. The leading theory, though, is that Libby's father, Runner Day, is the actual killer. And while Libby staunchly believes that Ben is the killer, she honestly doesn't know because she was hiding in her mother's closet at the time of the murders and when she heard the murderer start searching the house for her, she jumped out the window and hid until morning. So while she testified that she saw Ben do it, she didn't actually see anything. But she heard everything.

4. What does Patty do for a living, and how is it working out for her? What bad news does Len bring to Patty? Patty runs the family farm. When she married Runner, they took it over from her parents. That was during the boom times and Runner was a little too enthusiastic about it. They ended up taking a loan out from the bank to expand and buy new equipment, thinking that the farm would perform well and they could easily pay it back. But that didn't happen and Runner ended up leaving and now Patty is running the farm alone. Well, she hasn't paid on the loan in three years and her crop doesn't even yield enough to support them and when she does make money from the crops it goes toward the loan but it's just not enough. And the last time Len visited, she had to have an auction and sell off her farming equipment for way less than it was worth and I honestly don't even know how she's running the farm at this point?? Anyway, when Len comes this time, it's to tell Patty that they're foreclosing and she's run out of options.

5. Who is Diondra? Who is Krissi? Diondra is Ben's girlfriend. She's two years older than him (she's 17, he's 15) and rich. Her parents hae another house in Texas and they spend most of their time there so she's left alone a lot and basically does whatever she wants, including not going to school most of the time. And she's who Ben's always talking to on the phone and her house is where he usually goes when he's out. She is basically the biggest influence in his life, at this point, and as soon as he turns 16 and can drive, Ben wants to run away to Wichita (of all places) with her and live in their own apartment and work in her Uncle's sporting goods store. However, there's also Krissi. She's in the grade above Michelle's and has a crush on Ben. He was asked to help with an after school art class one day and he did and that's where he met Krissi. He ended up volunteering to help that art class for another month. Krissi also lives like an hour or so away so she has to wait forever for her dad to pick her up after school so Ben started waiting in the stairwell with her for her dad. Well, one day just before Christmas break, he ended up making out with Krissi.

6. Why does Libby think it’s just as much everyone else’s fault Ben is in jail as it is her fault? Because the entire trial was basically a circus. Libby's testimony was all over the place but the prosecution lawyer led Libby exactly where he wanted her to go and basically convinced her to say Ben was guilty. The defense lawyer treated her like he was walking on egg shells which didn't help Ben in the slightest because all Libby did was defend the prosecution. And then were was Ben himself. He acted like he didn't care at all about the trial and when they asked him about Satanic worship, he just fed right into it. He also wore his long black hair in a ponytail and basically didn't really clean up for court and just looked and acted like a criminal. He didn't try to defend himself at all. The defense lawyer also tried to bring up the evidence that didn't match with Ben but he failed to really make a case and really defend Ben. So while Libby's testimony was the cornerstone of the trial, the entire thing was so poorly handled that it wasn't just Libby's fault Ben was convicted.

7. In what way does Ben act about being in jail when Libby goes to see him? Ben says he's okay with it. It's been almost 25 years and he's made his peace with being in prison. He realizes that a lot of it was his fault because he didn't take the trail seriously enough. He never, ever thought he would be convicted. He thought he would be acquitted and then he'd be more popular at school. But, clearly, that didn't happen. But he also doesn't blame Libby for her testimony and he doesn't think she's the reason he was locked up. He's honestly surprised that anyone believed her because she was seven and so clearly coached. He thinks the fact that anyone believed her just meant that they wanted him locked up and there's nothing he could do about it. And when Libby asks if he wants to get out, he says of course he does but he doesn't see that happening unless they find who really did it. He also says he doesn't have a good alibi for that night so it's not like he really has any ground to stand on if he wanted to appeal. So he's made his peace with being in prison and he's okay with it. It's like he thinks he's making up for not being home to save his family and not being man enough in the first place. But he's glad to see Libby because he really is homesick.

8. Who does Lyle think murdered the Day family and why does he think this? He thinks the Day family was murdered by Lou Cates, Krissi Cates's dad. Apparently the Cates family accused Ben of molesting Krissi and Lyle thinks that Lou came over that night to question Ben about it and went into a rage and just murdered the whole family. Apparently Lou had done time for manslaughter previously. He had a wild temper and finding out someone had hurt his daughter would've definitely set him off. (I don't buy that theory at all though??? The murderer called Libby's name and looked for her. If Lou was looking for Ben and just started murdering, he didn't know any of them and he wouldn't have known to look for Libby. He would've been looking for Ben.)

9. When Libby calls Krissi’s mother, where does she say Lou would be? Where does she say Krissi would be? She says Lou would be in a bar probably somewhere in the state of Kansas (helpful) and to find Krissi just go west on I-70 past Columbia (Missouri, I'm assuming? Since Columbia, Kansas is literally abandoned; also why is Kansas basically just a copy and paste of Missouri with the state name changed???? There are so many towns wITH THE SAME NAME O.O) and take a left into any of the strip clubs. So. Also wildly helpful. (Wow, Krissi's mom. Top job with your first family. You sound like a wonderful human being. Not. *eyeroll*)

Section One Reading Journal

Okay so. We all know that I hated Gone Girl. But for some reason I, at some point, bought all of Gillian Flynn’s novels. And I even started reading one of the others (I thought it was this one but the first chapter isn’t what I remember reading so apparently it was Sharp Objects) but just never got around to finishing it. But her other novels honestly really do interest me. So all of that being said, I’ve been really excited to read this one and I honestly enjoyed this first section so much?? I really didn’t want to put it down.

I love that this story takes place in Missouri and Kansas. I love that Libby currently lives in Kansas City; that’s one of my absolute favorite cities. And that restaurant where she meets Jim Jeffreys I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten at with my aunts??? (It honestly sounded like it might’ve been Jack Stack.) So. Lots of fun little fangirl moments. (Also why do all of Gillian Flynn’s novels seem to take place in Missouri? That fascinates me so much. Though throwback to when I originally read Gone Girl and was talking to my mom about North Carthage and she was like “it’s just Carthage” and I was like no, it’s the one by St. Louis and she was like “no, it’s by Joplin, on the other side of the state.” So apparently that’s a town Gillian Flynn made up, ahaha.)

ANYWAY, I love that this is a really engaging and well written mystery. I’m definitely feeling more of a connection to it than I ever did to Gone Girl. I already like these characters more. And I didn’t figure out the twist five minutes into reading. (I do already have several theories about the murderer, though.) And basically I’m just all around liking this one more.

Though the only thing that’s really bothering me is that I hate that all of the flashbacks are written in third person but all of the present day Libby is written in first. That feels like a weird transition to me and I hate going from the past to present chapters because of it. I’m a big fan of continuity and that format isn’t it.

Also. Side note. Did we pick this book as the first book written by a popular author? Because this is actually Gillian Flynn’s second. We should’ve read Sharp Objects (which I also really want to read because the show looks AMAZING). So. Uh. Oops. I love that we’re so good at picking things. Throwback to picking Lolita for a classic romance. (Oops.) We are on top of things. Go us!

But all kidding aside, I really am loving this book and I can’t wait to devour the next section!!!! (Watch me not go to bed tonight and just read this entire book. That’s what I almost did last night. *shifty eyes*) Okay back to reading =))

#trcbooks #2015: dark places #2015 reading challenge

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cristixntm · 4 years

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𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧.

[ XAVIER SERRANO / POLYTROPOS / CAERUS / MUSE 36 ] / [ CRISTIANO MONTERO ] is a [ TWENTY-ONE ] year old [ BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION ] major. [ HE ] is known for being [ CHARMING & CLEVER ] but [ INSOUCIANT & INSENSITIVE ]. when i think of them, i imagine [ A CHEEKY WINK FROM ACROSS THE BAR, LATE NIGHT ‘U UP?’ TEXTS, THE CLENCH OF A JAW BEHIND A COCKY SMIRK, RICH BOYS DON’T HAVE HEARTS ]. and even though they’re a proud HU student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being a [ MHP ( AQUA ) ] graduate. i asked around and it turns out they [ AREN’T ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ PRESENTING A FIVE-FIGURE INVESTMENT PORTFOLIO THAT WAS STARTED FROM $10 ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless…

howdy hey frands! i’m jocey ( 24, she/her, est ) & this is my trash son, cristian. not me reusing an old intro and still getting this up late……. mmYEP luv that for me! if you would like to plot, hit that like button & i’ll come your way or feel free to hmu on discord ( jocey#9154 ).

full name : cristiano javier montero de barra nickname : mostly goes by cristian age : twenty-one sexuality : heterosexual hometown : madrid, spain / los angeles, california high school : marble hill prep ( aqua house ) HU house : polytropos major : business administration extracurriculars : eleusinian circle ( legacy ), soccer ( centre forward )

cristian is the second and youngest born to javier montero and alisa de barra. his dad is the CEO of montero properties, the developer behind many big name casinos and resorts around the world, while his mom is an actress who starred in several spanish telenovelas and hollywood films.

originating from spain, the montero family had always been a familiar face in the media, with both cristian and his older sister having large followings on social media. the montero’s had a reputation for living extravagantly and lavishly, and often flaunted their 1% status.

out of the whole family, arguably the one with the most controversial reputation was cristian — one of the heirs to the montero fortune, fuckboy extraordinaire with an impressively long list of ex lovers, and all around entitled trust fund brat ( whEW hate that!! ). taking full advantage of his family name, he was always seen at the exclusive events and partying, even hooking up, with some well-known names.

but with the family name also came the expectation to be the picture perfect son and the responsibility to carry on the family legacy. unfortunately, parents never quite get exactly what they hoped for from their children, do they?

if there’s one thing you should know about cristian is that he will never do anything if he felt forced into it. his parents learned early on that hiring a good PR team and shipping their son off to a boarding school ( marble hill prep ) was easier than forcing him to behave. the fact that cristian’s dad was a MHP and HU alum and the montero’s family were big donors might have helped to keep him from getting expelled on one or two occasions.

still, to some extent, cristian did the bare minimum just to keep his parents off his back and his bank account essentially bottomless. he got good grades ( whether it was completely based on his own merits was a different story ), showed up to important events ( granted he was always drunk and late ), and charmed the pants off of interviewers and his admirers ( sometimes quite literally ).

attending hatchett unversity was just another thing that he did to keep his trust fund ( or so he says ). and who was he to turn down the good ol’ college experience? it was also the perfect way to keep his side business ( read: drug ring ) going.

running a boarding school turned college drug ring was never exactly something he’d planned on doing. like with most things in cristian’s life, the opportunity sort of just fell into his lap and he decided to run with it. call it a bored rich kid thing, but there was just something about earning his own cash in such a risky way that made it that much sweeter.

while those who know cristian may be aware of his connection to this drug ring, most assume that he’s just dealing and/or using his rich boi connections to bring in customers. only a select few know that he’s actually the brains behind the surprisingly well thought-out operation, and he prefers to keep it that way.

cavalier fuckboy with a heart of gold… ( underneath a shit ton of asshole layers, that is ) basically summed up cristian. he always puts out this very lazy, devil-may-care image of himself, and acts like someone who could not give two shits about anyone other than himself. call him a selfish asshole and he’d probably agree with you. but when it comes to his closest friends, the ones he considered to be his real family, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

most write cristian off as this spoiled, reckless and directionless loose cannon, who maybe had one braincell on a good day. but underneath it all, he’s a lot smarter and more calculating than many people give him credit for and believe it or not, actually does think things through. but he believed that expectations just led to disappointment, so it was better to not have anyone expect anything of you. hence the perfected facade he’s kept up for as long as he could remember.

he is, however, not so smart when it comes to his love life and is notoriously bad at juggling his booty calls. as in, getting all their names mixed up, and running into a booty call number three, who he’d ghosted, when he was with booty call number five. but then again… could it all just be an act to get out of any and all potential relationships? who knows?

WANTED CONNECTIONS. most connections are open to multiple people filling it, unless it’s crossed out. and ofc i’m always open to any ideas not listed here!

RICH BOI SQUAD ━ they’re those guys. the popular, rowdy bros who are always seen together, they throw the best parties and cause a bunch of mayhem together. honestly just a bunch of obnoxious alpha dudes who think they’re hot shit. taken by kennedy king

#1 SINCE DAY 1 ━ cristian’s best bro since the beginning of time ( or close enough ), who’s been there through all of his constant shenanigans and wild times. taken by felix könig

BEST GAL PAL ━ probably one of the few girls cristian’s managed to not try to hook-up with, or constantly flirt with. someone who helps him remember the names of all the girls he’s hooked up with plz lol. it’s rare that he’s protective over someone, but he’d absolutely throw hands for her if needed. taken by caroline fitzgerald

CONFIDANT ━ someone who actually knows cristian very well and sees through his lazy rich boy act. one of the very few people who he’s completely opened up to and genuinely cares about not fucking up their friendship. taken by florence trask

MOM FRIEND ━ basically a mama bear who looks out for cristian and may be one of the few people he actually listens to. doubles as his moral conscience/good influence when he wants to do dumb rich boy things. taken by giada vitale

PSEUDO SIBLING ━ they have a sibling-like relationship, where he’ll annoy them sometimes and they mom friend him. but they’re always looking out for each other. taken by odette könig

CHILDHOOD FRIEND ━ someone he grew up with. they could still be friends to this day, maybe they grew apart, or maybe they never really clicked.

UNLIKELY FRIEND ━ the last person you’d expect to be friends with cristian. possibly met during a school project or something, and they realized that he’s… actually… not that bad?? despite what everyone says about him and his reputation, y/m sees that he’s not really as big of an asshole as he comes off and is actually kind of tolerable one on one. kind of. taken by dorian garcia

FAVOURITE ANNOYANCE ━ they got on cristian’s nerves at first, but eventually, they grew on them. whether he admits it or not, they do have some kind of friendship and deep down, he does enjoy their company. taken by astrid mae

DEALERS ━ basically dealers who work for cristian, who is the supplier. he may seem like a clueless hot mess, but rest assured, he takes care of his own. as long as that loyalty is returned. taken by felix könig

ON & OFF ━ cristian has had a lot of flings and hook-ups, but this person has been the one constant in his life. their “relationship” ( if you can call it that ) is kinda messy because he ( and maybe she as well? ) won’t commit, but is also surprisingly chill.

HOOK-UPS / FWBS ━ whether you like cristian or not, people can’t really deny that he’s good-looking rip. he’s known to have a bit of a roster of girls that he hits with those late night booty-calls/texts. taken by diana radcliffe

PAST HOOK-UPS / FWBS / ONE NIGHT STANDS ━ homeboy has been around the block and back more times than he can count on two hands, so he’s definitely got a long list of ex-luvas. especially ones who hate him cuz he’s the worst™. taken by isadora banks, daphne moon

ENEMIES ━ cristian’s the kind of guy who easily has a lot of people who don’t like him. he practically has no filter, so his big mouth and careless words are bound to rub some people the wrong way. or maybe he screwed y/m over to save his own ass. taken by belinda torres, camille jung

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laconservancy · 4 years

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Member Spotlight: Daniel Paul

Longtime Conservancy member Daniel Paul is an expert in L.A. Late-Modern architecture (1970-1990). Director of Development Liz Leshin asked Daniel to tell us about his area of expertise and why he joined the Conservancy.

Liz Leshin: Are you an L.A. native?

Daniel Paul: The metropolis yes, the City, no; I'm from Anaheim.

LL: You joined the Conservancy in 1996. What made you join in the first place? What were the main issues of concern then?

DP: I immediately joined the Los Angeles Conservancy Modern Committee, which really felt progressive back then. We had a slew of preservation issues at-hand, primarily centered around different strains of Mid-Century Modernism, including a variety of vernacular resources that many others were not really noticing. It was exciting, like a home of sorts, to meet and be among so many others with similar loves.

LL: Why do you think it's important to remain a member of the Conservancy?

DP: Because the Conservancy is virtually one-of-a-kind in terms of its scale and what it is willing to go after. Additionally, the Conservancy seems to have sort of a feel for, and ear of, local politics, making the organization helpful toward the cause.

LL: You are an expert in L.A. Late-Modern architecture (1970-1990). In a few words, can you express why this type of architecture is so compelling to you, and why L.A. was such a center for modernist architects?

DP: I became interested in this work beginning in 2001, when I was an Art History graduate student at California State University Northridge. I was curious to understand the aesthetic intentions and origin story of Late-Modern architecture, a design system perceived as anonymous if not hated. I had no idea when I began my work that it was created in Los Angeles.

I find the work compelling because it frequently possesses moments of beauty that are unexpected for its type, as large scale business architecture. Regarding why L.A. was such a center for Modernist architects, the deeper one looks I think every major city has its Modernist architects of note. But perhaps, at least for the US, a couple of elements set Los Angeles apart. Here, there was a certain openness to experiment, and openness to what architect Cesar Pelli called “future looking.” There was also a kind of horizontality in general back then: open space with no cultural hierarchies. This made for an anonymity that was not all bad, allowing architects to easily explore new concepts, and Modernism's zeitgeist was very much tied to the new.

Conservancy member Daniel Paul.

LL: Please describe the difference between early Modernism and Late Modernism, and why Late Modernism arose as a reaction to early modernism. What do you think are some of the best examples of Late Modernist 1970s buildings in Los Angeles?

DP: If by “early Modernism” you mean any Modernism before Late- and Post-, there are numerous iterations of it. I can say that both Late Modernism and Postmodernism began around 1965 as different reactions to a Modernism perceived as increasingly orthodox, dull, and insensitive. Speaking in the most general terms, Postmodernism–though the movement was not named as such until the mid-1970s–reacted against Modernism by introducing elements such as contextualism, humor, ornament, Classicism, complexity, and meaning.

Late Modernism, on the other hand, reacts against Orthodox Modernism by taking the language of Modernism and exaggerating it to show what became an increasingly orthodox Modernism would no longer be blindly followed. So for example, the dematerialization and thinness of the Modernist curtain wall is exaggerated to become the all-over smooth glass skin. Los Angeles Late-Modernism added a healthy dose of regional high-tech and art influences. Both reactions employ irony in their own way, though in Late Modernism the irony is subtle and in early Postmodernism, the irony is overt.

Regarding favorites, that is actually a rather challenging question, since so much of Los Angeles was built out by 1965. But within the city limits, some of my favorites are the Bonaventure Hotel, the former CNA Park Place Tower on 6th and Commonwealth (now the Los Angeles Superior Court Tower), Anthony Lumsden's twin sewage treatment plants: Donald C. Tillman Water Reclamation Plant (designed 1974; completed 1984) and Hyperion Water Reclamation Plant (designed 1985; completed 1997), along with some smaller resources too that are special in their own way: Auto Chek smog inspection facilities, and some of the 70s-era Bank of America branches, which I'm certain Cesar Pelli had an invisible hand in while he was at Gruen. Additionally, I have a weird place in my heart for the Warner Center: it looks like Oz from certain angles and used to be on the cover of the Yellow Pages!

The former CNA Park Place Tower (now the Los Angeles Superior Court Tower). Photo by Jeremy Sternberg/Flickr.

LL: Where did your interest in historic preservation come from?

DP: When I was 21 and studying art history at California State University Fullerton, I became deeply interested in art by the self-taught, particularly as they created environments upon their property, often over a period of decades or more, not from a conscious place of being an "artist." That such immersive creativity could be intrinsic and seemingly necessary to everyday life was deeply moving to me.

This led me to Grandma Prisbrey’s Bottle Village, by chance just a few days after the 1994 Northridge earthquake that caused it substantial damage. Not knowing what historic preservation was in the beginning, that is where I got started in preservation regardless, and I stayed at Bottle Village for 15 years. In the process, I fought for FEMA money, got Bottle Village listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and completed the USC historic preservation short course in 1996. But I must say that being on the Modern Committee in the late 1990s played no small part in my future career.

Grandma Prisbrey’s Bottle Village in 2008. Photo via Wikipedia.

LL: Why is it important to preserve Modernist architecture?

DP: In Los Angeles that is equivalent to asking why is it important to preserve architecture at all. So much of our built fabric here is some version of Modernism. At this point, I don't find it such a stretch to see that although Modernism is not decorative in any traditional manner, it can still be beautiful to people. So to preserve Modernism is to be open to non-traditional perspectives of beauty. There is, of course, everything that Modernism stood for, and that is a mixed bag. Nonetheless, I don’t blame the aesthetic itself.

LL: As you know, in 2020, the Conservancy is exploring the 1970s turning 50. One of your specialties is glass skin buildings, which started to be built in the 1970s. What is the allure of glass skin buildings?

DP: That they were never intended to be high art objects, but they nonetheless possess moments of great beauty.

LL: What is the challenge in preserving them?

DP: Their scale, the value of their land, preserving the very few and subtle character-defining features that they possess, and changing tastes. Taste goes in cycles. There was a time when Victorian architecture, Mid-Century Modernism, Art Deco, or any other variety of design systems fell out of favor, and works were then altered or demolished. Once these movements return to vogue, they never fully fall out of favor again. The challenge is identifying Late-Modernism's notable examples, then leaving them alone long enough to where they intrinsically over time look good again – and are therefore marketable – on their own accord. Late-Modern aesthetics are on the cusp of this, but right now innumerous mirror glass buildings are for lease.

LL: What do you say to people who describe them as “ugly” or “soulless”?

DP: First, I would remind them that when the Modern Committee began in 1984 as the Fifties Task Force, the 1950s were only 25 years old. That would be the equivalent to staring an early ‘90s task force now, and yet the ‘70s work is twenty years older than even that.

Regarding the buildings, I say enjoy their bold, sculptural presence from afar, and enjoy their surfaces close-in. Try and see the building as it is, separate from the corporations or business practices that the design system has come to represent. Understand that the original aesthetic intentions were not that. And just because they are large-scale projects, know their design work was often done on minuscule time and budget allocations, by architects trying to do something very interesting with very little. Their features are subtle, a fact which is easy to miss on account of the buildings’ often large scale.

LL: How will preserving buildings from the 1970s inform future generations?

DP: In 2014 I gave an all-day driving tour of mirror glass office park architecture in Orange County, and by and large most of those on that tour were under 30. This look already speaks to a certain young group, perhaps as their nostalgia for a past future.

LL: What do you think are the biggest issues or challenges facing preservation in Los Angeles moving forward?

DP: Preservationists need to be discerning about what they fight for, but at the same time, neither the need for housing of various types, nor whatever whims developers have should run rampant over preservation. Courage, communication, and vision are in order.

#member spotlight #70sTurn50 #1970s #modern architecture #postmoderism

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shcninas-blog · 7 years

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hello all you beautiful cupcakes !! my name is rooms ( which is short for romana ), and i’m so hyped for this roleplay ?? a post for this by fox passed my dash and i just couldn’t resist sending in an app, i’m always a slut for gang roleplays and baby driver too !!

i’m twenty years old, from the gmt+1 timezone and currently enrolled at university, but the word sleep is not in my vocabulary so with the exception of times when school gets busy, you can pretty much always find me online.

now enough about me, let’s get to the real deal, shall we ??

☾ —— have you met shanina rhodes, the twenty-six year old female that looks a lot like summer bishil? she has been in the syndicate as a get away driver for five years and is known around as the wild child, because she is fast-thinking & alluring, as well as reckless & hedonistic. not just a gang banger, hermes is also a trust fund baby.

↳ THE BASICS

full name: shanina lamia rhodes, codename hermes.

age: twenty-six years old, born on august 12th.

portrayed by: the beautiful summer bishil.

occupation: getaway driver, trust fund baby.

preferred pronouns: she/her/hers

sexual/romantic orientation: pansexual, demiromantic

↳ THE PERSONALITY

FAST-THINKING: quick on her feet and quick with her wit, shanina is famous for being able to find a way out of a situation when the clock is ticking ━ that, and her ability to shut someone down instantly if they decide to pick an argument. while she can be all saccharine smiles and lollipops, there is an underlying intelligence and cunning that shouldn’t be underestimated, those who make that mistake rarely get to tell the tale.

ALLURING: growing up in high society did come with its’ perks. shanina grew up under the tutelage of her mother and grandmother, both famous socialites, and that left its’ impact on the girl. she knows how to charm a room, how to play a heart and how to lie her way out of almost anything, sometimes even happens subconsciously. if she wasn’t so in love with the thrill of driving, she could easily work as a distraction in the gang too.

RECKLESS: it’s to be expected when you’ve lived your whole life restricted and locked in a gilded cage that once you get let loose, things get a little crazy. shanina spent most of her life having to think about the consequences of every single one of her actions, and now she doesn’t have to anymore. she enjoys taking risks, beating the odds, but whilst it makes her very good at her job, it doesn’t always pan out well for her.

HEDONISTIC: whilst she’s always enjoyed the finer things in life, hedonism has become a large part of her lifestyle ever since she’s been on her own. coming home in the early hours of the morning, heels in hand and reeking of alcohol and cigarettes is not a rare occasion. it fuels her reckless nature, but even when she’s spiraled completely out of control, shanina has never been under the influence behind the wheel. not yet, anyway.

↳ THE STORY

christina rhodes had never expected to become a single mother. her life had always been about perfection, from the clothes on her back to the money in her bank account to the romances she shared, it was always to be perfect, to be enviable. she came from old money, socialized only in the most elite circles and was considered the favorite child by her parents; she was the type of woman who’d be wed for at least two years before even considering children.

fate, it seems, had a different idea for her. a brief affair with a saudi-arabian prince, one that only lasted for a month, and christina was pregnant. khalid offered to take her as his wife, to make sure the baby would be raised in a stable home, and pressured by her parents and family, christina accepted. the eve of their engagement party was supposed to have been the start of her new life, but instead, christina was pushed further down her spiral by the news of khalid’s plane crashing into the atlantic ocean.

seven months later, a child was welcomed into this world, sharing her mothers’ name and eyes, and suddenly, just maybe, christina’s life wasn’t as bad as she thought it was.

shanina rhodes was a handful from the moment she took her first breath, and likely will be until her last. she cried and screamed for attention every moment she could get and exhausted the legion of nannies that had been hired. the only ones that ever got her to calm down, or to listen, were her mother and her grandmother ━ which seemed to be true for a long time after that as well.

raised into high society, her more reckless impulses and creative brain were discouraged heavily by the family, and shanina was to concern herself with nothing more than etiquette, haute couture and making sure she was the best and brightest in both school and in her social life. her mother and grandmother were never easy on her, they taught her to be cruel and strike hard, to never admit defeat and to crush her enemies, to have her face express no emotion that could be used against her.

she tried to rebel on multiple occasions, shoplifting, illegal streetraces, but they kept her leash tight, and whenever she thinks back on those days, she only manages to come up with one word. hell.

often, she hoped, even prayed for a way out of that life. to be free and to do whatever the hell she wanted, to not be forced into perfection all the time. it’s funny how fate works, because it seemed that she got exactly that ━ all wrapped up in an almost comically mundane house fire.

both her grandparents had passed in their bed due to smoke inhalation, but her mother had seen the smoke and immediately ran towards shanina’s bedroom, trying desperately to open the door, which had been barred by a fallen beam. as the authorities later recalled, her hands were completely charred from trying to pry the door open before she too, died of smoke inhalation. in a way, she had still saved her daughters’ life, though. when they found her body in front of the barred door, they realized someone must’ve been inside, and rescued the girl from her bedroom.

in complete shock, shanina spent a year inside of a mental hospital before finally being released into the world again, and was shocked to see it seemed to have forgotten all about her. but in a way, that was also a liberating thought. she could start anew, free from her family name and legacy, free from anything binding her, and so she did.

her idea of freedom, however, was living recklessly, spending money like there was no tomorrow and doing everything god forbid. she quickly gained a reputation as street racer, reckless and impulsive but undeniably talented and creative. whilst she had a fortune to her name, shanina still dabbled in crime, enjoying the thrill that came with heists and getaway driving even more than racing, which was how she came on the syndicate’s radar.

the offer to move to monroe and work for them full-time was enticing, and either they didn’t know where she’d come from and who her family was or they didn’t care, because there were no questions asked. why not take a look, she figured ━ not knowing that five years later, she’d still be there, a member of the dysfunctional crime family they’d built, and finally, for once, loving her life.

↳ THE PLOT IDEAS

ok so, shanina is pretty much completely under the impression that no one knows or cares where she came from and the fact that she has a couple million sitting in her bank account, and i’d love for someone who’s pretty new to the gang to have a connection to her old life or actually known her back in those days.

someone who hates her driving and has white knuckles from holding on for safety every time they step into the car with her please!!

i’d love for her to have a sibling-like relationship with someone, shanina considers the syndicate like family, so this could definitely be more than one person.

you can find some more ideas in this tag right here.

i don’t have a lot of plot ideas apart from that mostly because i really enjoy brainstorming and coming up with crazy ideas together. i can’t wait to message and write with every single one of you and definitely expect me showing up in your dms to hit you up with that love and affection shit soon !!

#mon:intro #「 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 « ooc 」#「 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓊𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 « about 」#fire tw #mental abuse tw #mental health tw

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topweeklyupdate · 7 years

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TØP Weekly(/Monthly) Update #44: Well That Was Fast (7/23/17)

How goes, friends. Three weeks ago, I wrote what I thought would be my last weekly update for at least several months. “They’re going on hiatus,” they said, “You won’t have enough content for months.” they said. But they didn’t count on one thing: Joshua. William. Dun.

...And, actually, a few other things. The last three weeks have given us more than enough content to give all two of you who have missed my combination of rambling and dorkery your fix. Again, I write this thinking it will be the last time I’ll write anything for several months, but who’s to say?

This Week’s TØPics:

Sleepers and Closing the Eye

Josh at the APMAs/WTF is DEMA?

Goldfinger Album Release

We Know That Our Band Did Well in 2016... But How Well?

Major News and Announcements:

There’s been a fair bit of shenaniganry since the boys put a cap on the Blurryface Era. First, as expected, Mark dropped the final Sleepers vid. Peeps cried. Mark got some great shots. Josh got a boo-boo playing in the ocean at Hangout. Artopia notably wasn’t featured, which was a little disappointing, but it was still a great vid. The Sleepers series ended with a nifty animation of an eye closing, and we were all like, “Yeah, that makes sense, it’s called Sleepers, Tyler talks about sleep all the time, nothing new to see here.”

Then, a week later, Tyler (or somebody on the team, but let’s be real, it was Tyler) decided to destroy us.

Over the course of one day, all of TØP’s social media accounts changed their images every hour or so, in a series of pics that featured a red-filtered POV shot of a concert audience. Each image progressively shrunk in the manner of a closing eye, and each featured a different lyric related to sleep or saying goodbye mirrored across the crowd. Interestingly, the o’s in the final message were not crossed out, and instead the e’s have received horizontal slashes, perhaps indicating that the next era will feature the last part of the |-/ logo in its typography. Some people/publications freaked out, speculating it was a countdown to a new single or album, but it was pretty obvious that it was just one more nail in the coffin for the era, especially by the time it reached the above image. They’re done. They’re on hiatus. They’re not releasing music anytime soon. They’re just going to become a bunch of hermits.

...At least, until two weeks later, when Josh singlehandedly revived the fandom just as they had entered into their hiatus coma. Josh was invited to perform at the Alternative Press Music Awards, held this year in Cleveland instead of Columbus, but still not far from home at all (Tyler was likely on vacation and couldn’t attend, though the image of him staying at home with Jenna and his leaf blower rather than go to what I would argue is easily the worst awards ceremony in the music industry is really amusing).

We’ll get to the performance in just a bit, but we first gotta address the fact that they won an award for Most Dedicated Fanbase. Josh (dressed in camo pants, a band t-shirt, and a baseball cap and yet still looking more professional than almost anyone else at the show), gave all the credit to the fans as expected, but also got in a couple of good jokes about how he is actually the most dedicated Twenty One Pilots fan. The most noticeable part of the speech, however, came at the beginning, when Josh explained Tyler’s absence by saying he was “cutting ties with DEMA [sic?]”.

As expected with the Clique, fan speculation immediately ran wild, and while the immediate reaction seemed to be that he was referencing some security agency that wasn’t properly doing its job, things quickly got out of hand when that son-of-a-gun Blurryface hopped back on his Twitter after months of silence (even through all of Tour de Columbus) to like a fan theory speculating that it was an esoteric reference to the eye-shaped Towers of Silence, old Zoroastrian structures (notably shaped kinda like eyes) on which the dead were left to be eaten by birds. That is awesome, intriguing, infuriating, and worrying at the same time. What’s going on in your head, Ty Jo? Are you just trolling? Are you outsourcing fans to give you cool ideas? What gives? Does any of this even count as news? Who cares, we’re all just flying through space on a speck, live a little.

One last bit of news: the new Goldfinger album The Knife, which features drumming from Jishwa on the song “Orthodontist Girl”, was released Saturday. It’s not really my jam, but if you’re into that sort of thing or just want to support Josh, it’s on Spotify/wherever else music is streamed or sold.

Performances, Interviews, and Other Shenanigans:

Anywho, Josh joined forces with two other amazing drummers (Adrian Young of No Doubt/DREAMCAR and Frank Zummo from Sum-41) to perform a drum medley of various pop and alternative hits. Despite (or perhaps because of) his much shorter time on the scene, Josh noticeably attracted much more noise from the teens in attendance. The performance featured everything from marching snares, audience members holding drums, exploding golf balls, pretty spotty audio mixing/camera work, Josh busting out a backflip, a pretty sick remix of “Ride”, and Josh playing “All Star” on the trumpet. It was pretty surreal.

Other than that, not much to report. Tyler has gone almost completely dark since the end of TDC, and even Josh hasn't been up to anything besides the APMAs and some occasional drum promotions. But there's still more to cover, if you can believe...

Chart Performance:

It's back! My old recurring segment's been kept mostly on the back-burner ever since "Heathens" left the Hot 100, but Billboard and the RIAA gave us a little more sales info about our band that I felt warranted coverage. First, some of the RIAA certifications for the band have been updated. “Message Man” has gone gold (500,000 approximate sold units), while “Holding On To You” and “House of Gold” have both gone platinum (one million). The big singles- in ascending order, “Ride”, “Heathens”, and “Stressed Out”- are now 4x, 5x, and 6x Platinum respectively. Nutty. Absolutely bonkers.

Next, after presumably six months of number crunching, those calculators over at Billboard released their list of the Top Money Makers of 2016. It's a pretty interesting read for any music fan, as the list includes a breakdown of the different revenue streams for each of its fifty featured artists, from how big a percentage of sales they receive in royalties to how massive their touring was in the given year. Our boys made the list for the first time ever, debuting at a whopping #13 and an estimated total of $21.1 (wtf) million. For context: that means that Tyler and Josh together made more money from their music in America in 2016 than Garth Brooks, Carrie Underwood, Future, Metallica, Maroon 5, and Elton John.

However, like all Billboard rankings, this list contains tons of major caveats and weird arbitrary rules that makes it almost useless for actually assessing success. It doesn’t count sales in other regions, which is crazy for today’s global market and would totally reorder the list (for one, tons of the American country artists on this list would get booted out due to their negligible international sales and touring). It also doesn't cover other hugely significant revenue streams like merchandising, sponsorships, and other jobs like TV host or producer, which would likely put Twenty One Pilots quite a bit behind many of these guys for which the music is almost a secondary thing. Additionally, all of those artists have been making this kind of money much longer than our boys, and after taxes and other costs, most of that change probably isn't going directly into their bank accounts. Still, it's pretty safe to say that both Tyler and Josh are technically millionaires at this point, and it’s hard not to feel an immense sense of pride in the scale of their accomplishments. Now, I just genuinely hope they put those blessings to good use for charitable works.

A few more points from this list: The band was the top earner in 2016 in terms of publishing royalties due to their involvement with a major motion pictures soundtrack and the incredible radio support for three of their singles the whole year round. Additionally, they were the #3 most streamed artist/group of the year, just behind Drake and Kanye. They were also the biggest money-makers of any "new" group that had never previously been in this echelon of popular influence. For further context, the twelve artists that had better sales/touring years were, in ascending order, Rihanna, Billy Joel, Kenny Chesney, Kanye West, Luke Bryan, Justin Bieber, Coldplay, Adele, Drake, Bruce Springsteen, Guns and Roses, and Beyoncé- obviously, the boys are in very, very esteemed company. Finally, and perhaps surprisingly for those fans who consider Twenty One Pilots first-and-foremost a live band who are always playing shows, they were one of very few artists who did not make the majority of their money off of touring in 2016. This is not because they weren't touring their tushes off, but rather because a) they really did have an amazing sales year and b) despite what scalped ticket prices might tell you, the boys really did try to sell those tickets for much lower than what many fans were willing to pay for them. Most of the artists on this list were selling tickets up front at over $100 a pop; TØP was doing half that, and they were still up with the big boys. I'm a proud pop.

That's all for this week, folks. Not sure when I'll be back to chat again. Until then, and as always, power to the local dreamer.

#twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #apmas 2017 #top weekly update #billboard

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