#not quite gentrification but like it’s close

[braincake666]

Does anyone else feel like scene has been sort of sanitized recently? It’s really weird seeing people claiming to be scene but then having shit like “freaks dni” on their blog or kid-ifying the scene.

Like I remember original scene being FULL of drugs and drinking and sex. Groups of scene girls thirsting over celebs using the term smexy, kandi having pills strung onto it to smuggle it into clubs, shows like Black Butler and Ouran High School Host Club and Death Note being staples, Ke$ha being basically a god to us.

It’s bizarre and tbh kind of gross to see people sending death threats to scene and emo folk for doing stuff like have “bad” ships or posting about their self-harm, or freaking out when someone mentions drugs or drinking or sex being involved in the culture, especially early on. Like you guys were the ones bullying us for wanting refuge in this culture in the first place, what the fuck are you doing trying to be part of it now?

[theoutcastrogue]

Cartoon depictions of the homeless increasingly reflect the hostility of today’s political leaders toward people on the streets. We’ve gone from images of charming hobos with bindles to zombies taking over cities. If you consume any news at all, you’ve probably noticed that the United States is pathologically cruel to its homeless citizens. This May, the brutal killing of Jordan Neely—who was strangled to death, at the age of 30, simply because he was unhoused and shouting on the Manhattan subway—captured the national spotlight, but it was just one of many such cases of unprovoked violence. In January, two cops reportedly kidnapped a homeless man in Hialeah, Florida, drove him to an “isolated and dark location,” and beat him unconscious. That same month, art dealer Shannon Collier Gwin faced battery charges after he sprayed a homeless woman with a hose outside his San Francisco gallery, barking “Move! Move!” at her. (Predictably, Gwin got a lenient plea deal of just 35 hours of community service.) Elsewhere in the city, homeless San Franciscans have been attacked with chemical bear spray on at least eight occasions. Other assaults have been more impersonal but no less vicious. On July 14, the city of Houston abruptly closed its only public cooling center in the downtown area, potentially condemning anyone without shelter to suffer heatstroke in 90-degree weather. Among the property-owning class, the phenomenon of hostile architecture—sidewalks with spikes that stab anyone who tries to sleep, benches with iron bars, and the like—has become de rigueur. The widespread callousness and lack of compassion are both infuriating and hard to comprehend. How on Earth, we might ask, did things get this bad? [...]

Looking back at older cartoons, one of the things that stands out immediately is the absence of negative attitudes toward the homeless. In fact, during the Golden Age of animation, creators seemed to have had a real affinity for the poor and unhoused, often placing their most iconic characters in that role. There’s a wonderful 1948 Warner Bros. short called “Riff Raffy Daffy,” in which Daffy Duck is looking for a place to sleep—first on a park bench, then a trash can, and finally a furniture display in a shop window—and has to dodge the harassment of the police, as represented by Porky Pig in a little blue uniform. (Literally, the cop is a pig!) Or, in the 1950 cartoon “Homeless Hare,” Bugs Bunny’s rabbit hole is destroyed by a new construction project, leading him to unleash his usual slapstick mayhem against the developers until they put it back. In these cartoons, homelessness is something inflicted on people by outside forces—gentrification and the real estate business, in Bugs’ case—and something which can be successfully resisted. Even Disney cast a homeless dog as a romantic lead in 1955’s Lady and the Tramp, contrasting Lady’s sheltered naivety with Tramp’s superior knowledge of the world. The title invokes the memory of Charlie Chaplin’s “Tramp” films, which similarly brought dignity and humanity to the role of a homeless man. (Bugs Bunny, too, takes inspiration from Chaplin, and multiple Warner animators have drawn him as the Tramp.) In 1961, Hanna-Barbera’s profoundly underrated Top Cat followed the adventures of a gang of wisecracking Manhattan alley cats, who, like Daffy, are always outwitting a meddling policeman. At worst, classic cartoons may trivialize the suffering and danger associated with homelessness—there’s a certain recurring image of the carefree hobo carrying a bindle, which paints the whole subject in a romanticized light—but the homeless themselves are rarely disparaged or made the butt of the joke. Quite the opposite. 

It took a few years, but cartoons caught up to the Reaganite turn. In episodes from the ’90s and early 2000s, there’s a palpable shift in the way homeless characters appear compared to earlier decades. The perspective is different: we’re now seeing them through the eyes of comfortably housed characters, rather than their own. Often they don’t even get proper names. [...] This trajectory leads us, perhaps inevitably, to SpongeBob SquarePants. [..] Squidward gets accused of stealing a dime by his comically greedy boss, Mr. Krabs, and quits his job in a fit of outrage. We then flash forward to see Squidward, now bedraggled and unshaven, living in a cardboard box on the street and begging for change. [...] Mercifully, the ever-cheerful SpongeBob gives Squidward a place to stay—but the moment he’s safely off the street, Squidward turns from a sympathetic victim of circumstance into a lazy, entitled freeloader, straight out of a Reagan speech. He makes no effort to find work and loafs around SpongeBob’s house for ages. [...] Eventually, an exasperated SpongeBob writes “GET A JOB” in his alphabet soup, before shoving him (bed and all) back to work at the Krusty Krab. [...] Worst of all, though, the episode suggests that homelessness can be solved on an individual basis if the people in question simply stop being lazy and “GET A JOB.” This is the biggest myth of all. In 2021, a statistical analysis by the University of Chicago found that 53 percent of people in homeless shelters, and 40.4 percent of unsheltered people, do have jobs. The problem is that their wages are too low, and rents are too high. According to statistics from the same year, it’s impossible for someone working a full-time, minimum-wage job to afford a single-bedroom apartment in 93 percent of U.S. counties, and there are no states in which someone can rent a two-bedroom space on the current federal minimum wage of $7.25 per hour. In other words, homelessness has little or nothing to do with personal responsibility, or lack thereof. It’s a consequence of large-scale economic decisions made by landlords and bosses. [...]

— Alex Skopic

[streets-in-paradise]

The Real Deal - Matt Murdock x Witch!Reader

Warnings: I haven't wrote for Daredevil in a long while, so forgive me if i have mistaken details of the show.

Summary: You want to help your lawyers in their most challenging case, but the controversial nature of your skills leaves it up to question.

Tags: @chezagnes

Matt and Foggy meet you as one of their early clients and, in their perspective, you were a simple fortune teller unfortunately caught in a legal issue. Your case was so absurd that it represented easy work for them. Even in the strange times they were living in, it still made no sense. A matter of police profiling through the mass hysteria in the post Loki New York making you suspicious for carrying symbols of norse witchcraft. Runic readings weren't the only service you offered and your practices weren't culturally límited to what then started to be considered an asgardian danger. However, society was still adapting to the discovering and the clueless officers couldn't tell the difference between an asgardian sorceress and the neighborhood's witch. Your lawyers realized of that, and the instant fondness of you that at least half of the firm developed closed the deal for you to get out of trouble.

Unlike most of their clientele, you were managing to pay them in cash. Slow, but consistent payments that also worked as a way to stay in touch. Despite they were highly skeptical of your activity, they did appreciate their owned share of its product. Catholic belief wasn't an obstacle for Matt's flirting and his friend would never miss the chance to tease him for that when you were arround. That precise combination of factors made you be always welcome, but with each visit you noticed they were struggling deeper than just financtially.

They got in serious trouble attempting to legally save the neighborhood from gentrification taking down the lead of the dirty business surrounding it. Even their secretary was involved in the investigation, huge deal that made you feel quite concerned for all of them.

You were relatively new in the city, but that didn't mean you weren't inclined to help. The chain reaction would screw everyone over, except for the top rich.

You weren't an asgardian terrorist, but neither the easy to underestimate facade associated with your business. To some of your clients, the ones coming for meaningless issues or unethical things, you would ocassionally sell advice disguised of bullshit.However, you were a real witch performing unmistakeable results for causes that justified it.

Overhearing the plotting of your favorite lawyers, you found one that was worth all your efforts.

" Let me help you out with Fisk." You interrupted them instead of awaiting for Karen to take your payment. " … A full name, birth date and a personal object is all I need, for a start. "

Foggy couldn't believe what you had just proposed, taking it as absolute nonsense.

" Not in the mood for jokes, Princess Opal. We have a serious situation here, but we will call you to join the search if someone goes missing. "

You didn't let the demeaning comment bring you down, it was exactly what you expected of him.

" Believe it or not, I am a worker of justice just like you." You corrected him ríght away. " When your system fails, some people come to me hoping to rush the action of karma. Others want me to give them the hope in justice that their practicers can't provide. Do you have any idea of how many clients i get that are currently in legal battles, but don't trust the courts to give them what they need for the sake of it? How much work with justice i get demmanded? It's insane! Regardless of what you believe about it, you can't deny it says something. "

Matt was very silent, untill the tease got him snarky.

" We are working to make things better, I hope you will not resent us for winning that hope back. "

You smiled, already struggling to resist his charm. Despite he obviously couldn't see it, you could swear he noticed the effect he had in you.

" On the contrary, I admire you. I know of the kind of hard time you get when trying to do the ríght thing." You admitted, not realizing you were already toying with the tips of your hair. " When an obsessive weirdo comes asking me to magically force someone to love them, or to curse a coworker they envy, I sell them teraphy disguised with self satisfying witchy-sounding talk. Placebos, so they will get someting to come back for and not search for an unethical bastard that could either scam them worse or do the damage they want for the proper price. When worried parents bring a sick child, I do the real healing ritual for free and make up my costs doing readings or charging an asshole tax on the crazy ones. That's who I am, my concience makes me loose money, and i believe we are on the same page when it comes to business models. "

The comparison was strange, but it showed perfect understandment of their situation found in the weirdest of places.

" I was not aware there were ethics in witchcraft. "

" For you only, I'm willing to ignore my code. " You snarked back in a flirtatious tone. " Let me hex Fisk, show him something that would make him regret to mess with the neighborhood. "

Foggy was cautious of your slightly sinister expression at the end and started to think you trully believed in the power on your threat.

" Sounds like a mobster message, clearly not our style. "

" How would that work?" Karen interrupted him. " It won't kill anyone, ríght?"

Her friend stared at her in disbelief.

" You can't be serious. "

" Foggy, gods have fallen from the sky ... I say we let her give it a try. "

" Those were aliens, not gods. " Matt corrected. " I don't believe in curses, it comes with being a catholic. "

He did make you chuckle with that one.

" Well, hipocricy also comes with catholicism. "

" She got you … can't beat the allegations! " Foggy teased him ríght away. " Your fault for making us jump in defense of the beautifull savage for you to play missionary with. "

You both were left in evidence on a matter of seconds.

" Thanks, Foggy! It's the first lovely thing about me you have to say today."

He didn't intend to sound harsh, but he couldn't possibly understand you.

" Try to see things from my perspective: i feel like i'm being mocked. "

" If it eases your concience, the methods are mostly a facade. I'm the real deal, it runs in the blood. " You confessed, wondering if you would regret it later. " Mom thinks i got it from my father. I don't know, I never meet him and at this point i don't think I want to. Don't waste time asking me about that."

" Can you cast the honesty curse from ' Liar, Liar'? That would be really helpfull. " Foggy mocked you once more. " We seek to expose Fisk, get him in jail. Even if we could believe you, I don't see how your offer can be any usefull. "

At least you could say you got him Interested. Weirded, maybe, but attentive.

" I can curse his business. Mysterious incidents will keep happening and he will loose money. Of course, I believe the Devil is doing his part on that, but why not giving him some help? Fisk will be easier for you to legally take down if he has too many things to attend at once. A vigilante and the curse of a real witch should be enough to do the dirty work for you. One problem, he may attempt to solve, but who is going to warn him about me? Even if they would … Do you think he would believe it?"

The next objection came from Matt, but that didn't surprise you as it should.

" Well, for a start we don't work with vigilantes."

" Too late, i think he is working with you." You snarked back. " Sounds like a good plan to me. After all, your church believes witches are the devil's consorts, ríght?"

In that simple comment he obtained all the proof he needed to believe in your gifts, realization that stayed between him and you.

[fizzigigsimmer]

To B With Love: The One With The Honey Moon

I had a lot of fun learning about 19th century San Francisco and thought folks might like to see where Steve & Billy spend their bonding retreat.

If that interests you at all, more beneath the cut.

(Cow Hollow 1870)

Bordering the marina district on the bay, Cow Hollow is still a neighborhood that exists in the city today, and parts of it can be seen in The Princess Diaries, which is irrelevant but dear to me.

When the first settlers arrived with the gold rush it was called Spring Valley, known for the numerous freshwater springs that fed into the fertile lagoon, as well as for grassy meadows and sand hills inhabited by wildlife. All those grassy meadows were great for farming, and the area came to be known as Cow Hollow after its many immigrants took to lucrative dairy farming. The price of milk was high in the city at that time and a local farmer could easily support a family on dairy production.

Cow Hollow (Chinese vegetable farm 1883)

Its main thoroughfare, was until the early 20th century an unpaved road which linked the developing city with the Presidio. As San Francisco rapidly expanded the area prospered and became a fashionable district for Prominent San Franciscans. They came and built their fancy houses and shops and businesses followed them. From about the 1860s to the late 1870s there were your standard gentrification tensions between the farmers and the fashionable set, which ended when the city banned cows in the area in the 1880s, effectively ending farming in the area for good.

Cow Hollow (The Attorney General's private estate ensconced by trees)

Perhaps in defiance people continued to call it Cow Hollow, and good on them for that.

This neighborhood makes a lot of sense to me as a place Steve's cousin would have picked to hide him, as it is "comfortable", but not as congested as the city proper as well as close to the bay if a quick retreat is needed by boat.

*Bonus view of the Golden Gate strait from the Crissy field shoreline 1870

The same view in 2015

The house Billy & Steve stay in is described as an octagon shaped cottage, with a cross gabled roof and wrap around porch. Octagon shaped houses were a hot fad for "forward thinking individuals" in the 19th century that started with this doctor who published a bunch of papers, detailing his research into the human body and how the enlightened individual could use their environment to live their best life. Apparently, the flow and function of the octagon shape was superior in his book. Anyway, thanks to him and the trend setters we now have a nice collection of historical houses with this quirky, not all that functional shape. There's a full list online but I'll just include a few that were built around the 1860s

(McElroy House - San Francisco)

(New Jersey: super cute but I can imagine the tiny, weirdly cornered rooms just by looking at it)

(San Francisco: some modern updates obviously but I love the roof work)

(Not sure where these are)

And the one I used a direct reference for Steve & Billy's little retreat.

I love the gables, the porch, just everything. I can picture it on a hill with a view down to the bay, and I loved the idea of them being able to just follow a road to the sea.

That was the first image that came to my mind when I was outlining - the boys hand in hand on their way to the beach. Disheveled, not quite 'done up' all the way but no one to see them if they did. Just being young and starry eyed for each other. Frankly they deserve it after all I put them through lol.

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 28

Words: 3.8k

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

The streets of Soho had undergone gentrification in years gone by, and a lot of the seedy bars and sleazy clubs that had been buoyed by the sex trade had been replaced with upmarket wine bars and fancy restaurants. Nevertheless you could still find something to cater for all tastes if you knew where to look. And Alex certainly did.

"Scott brought me here once," she told me as we arrived at a small doorway tucked away between two bars with steps leading down to a basement level. "I must admit I was quite shocked at first... and it takes a lot to shock me!"

I followed her down the steps, intrigue bolstering me as we descended. The low thud of the bass was so deep I could actually feel it vibrating in my chest cavity as she pulled open the door and we both stepped inside.

We were in a dimly lit club with low ceilings and one quick glance around confirmed my suspicions that this was no ordinary nightclub. A deep red glow was the only light to illuminate the large space and it didn't reach the edges of the room. Those areas lay in compete darkness and I could only imagine what was happening in the murky depths. The clientele were in various states of undress, and those who were actually wearing more than underwear were dressed in latex or leather. I suddenly felt very overdressed in my shirt and jeans, surreptitiously reaching a hand up to undo a few buttons.

Alex looked the part in her skin tight pencil dress and spike heels, and she reached down to grab my hand, ushering me to the bar where she ordered two vodka tonics.

"So... what do you think?" She grinned at me, the straw from the drink between her teeth.

I was unsure how to react so settled for, "Yeah... it's great... if you like that sort of thing."

"And do you?" She said, watching me. I sipped my drink and let my gaze wander around the room.

My eyes had become more accustomed to the gloom now, and strobe lighting from the dance floor lit up this area in flashes of brilliance every now and again, affording me a better view.

The dance floor was full of writhing bodies, people grinding against each other, losing themselves in the music. The air was thick with sinfulness, the promise of unspeakable pleasures if you could just let your inhibitions go.

Not that many of the characters I witnessed still had their inhibitions intact. I glanced across to a leather couch to see a girl on her knees between a man's thighs, pleasuring him. He had his head thrown back, completely oblivious to anyone else around. Or maybe he was. Maybe that was the thrill. A girl walked past wearing a leather collar on a long silver chain behind a man who was leading her. Her hands were bound. Two girls next to me at the bar were kissing fervidly, hands everywhere as their passion heightened.

I could feel Alex's eyes on me, waiting for my reaction and I sipped my drink as a distraction from the way my pulse raced and heat flooded my lower body.

"Scott told me... about what you were into," she said, leaning in closer. "I thought maybe he'd have brought you here too."

I shook my head. "No... never, but I can see why he would've liked it." Then a thought occurred to me. "Hey... you and him... did you... were you..."

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence. Alex's face instantly crumpled with a look of distaste. "Me and Scott? God no! He wasn't my type at all!"

I raised an eyebrow questioningly, almost certain that I already knew the answer and her response confirmed it.

"He was too... male!" She laughed, eyes twinkling, then she leaned in close to me, grabbing my hand once again before downing her drink and slamming the empty glass down on the bar.

"C'mon Lyla, let's go and dance!"

I hesitated. It would be all too easy to fall back into my old ways, but I realised that I didn't want that. Not now. I wasn't that same person anymore.

"C'mon, it's only a dance..." she urged, edging towards the dance floor, fingers curling insistently around mine.

She was right. It was only a dance. Nevertheless I found my eyes scanning the room, searching... imagining Van watching me from the shadows.

So what Lyla? He doesn't OWN you...

But that was just it. I so desperately wanted him to.

I drained the rest of my glass, letting Alex lead me on to the dance floor where she whirled me around until she was flush against my back, pressing her body into mine, her hips rolling against me. I faltered for a moment, unsure how to play this, but the potent mixture of the slow, sultry beat, the drinks I'd had and the feel of her delicate hands on my hips pulling me close began to melt my reluctance away.

The atmosphere was heady, gyrating bodies on every side, sweat practically dripping off the walls in the humid air. It was hard not to get swept up in it all, so I didn't fight it. I found my own body mimicking the movements I saw all around, leaning back into Alex, closing my eyes and letting the low throb of the bass reverberate through me as her arm snaked around my waist. I could feel myself drifting... letting go...

All of a sudden I felt a different sensation. Larger, much rougher hands sliding on to my hips. My eyes flicked open in an instant to see the hulking figure of a man standing before me. He must have been at least a good six inches taller than me with bulging muscles and tattoos covering every visible inch of skin.

"Ladies... looks like there's something missing here..." he leered, his eyes moving over my body salaciously.

I stepped back quickly, roughly knocking his hands aside. I was in no mood to deal with unwanted attention.

"Put your fucking hands on me again and you'll regret it," I said sharply, raising my voice over the music.

The man acted as anticipated, finding my warning amusing, as if I was no more capable of causing him harm than an annoying insect he'd likely swat away. He stepped forward with a grimace of intimidation. "Is that so little lady?"

It was predictable and it should have been an irritation, but a small part of me enjoyed this. It wasn't that I welcomed confrontation, more the fact that a sniff of possible danger got my heart thumping and made me feel truly alive. I could already feel my muscles tensing, my eyes flicking over the man's frame, identifying the targets I'd aim for if he made a lunge for me.

"Ooh you do not want to mess with this little lady, trust me!" I heard Alex taunt from behind me, and she stepped forward to stand beside me, draping an arm over my shoulder, a united front.

The man shot out a hand without warning, and he was surprisingly agile for his size. It closed around my wrist and he pulled with force, jolting my body forwards and away from Alex. My reactions were quick, honed to perfection especially for moments like this, and I reached for the wrist of his restraining hand, turning my body as I did, nimbly pivoting around so I was behind him and his arm was twisted up behind his back. He lumbered to the side, taken by surprise, and I used this momentum to drive him off the dance floor and over to the bar.

"What the fuck?" He spat, his words forced out as the wind was knocked from him as I pushed him up against the bar with my full body weight. He slumped over it in obvious pain.

"Like I said, you'll regret it." I lent over his prone form to speak in an even tone directly into his ear.

"This bitch is fucking crazy!" He cried, not to anyone in particular, more likely in disbelief to himself that he'd been taken down by a comparatively smaller opponent, and even more humiliatingly by a woman.

I rewarded his remark with a brutal twist of his wrist that made an audible crack as his tendons popped, a snarl on my lips as I spoke again. "Yes I am fucking crazy, you got a problem with that?"

I could hear Alex's delighted approval as I shoved the man roughly, stepping away, the red mist that had descended on me starting to clear. A small crowd had gathered around us and I'd just noticed a tall figure dressed all in black pushing through them and away. It was only a glimpse and I couldn't be sure but my heart immediately started to pound.

Without thinking I plunged into the crowd, not even considering the fact that if it was indeed Van and I caught up with him in here whilst I was with another agent it might not only be dangerous for him, but for all involved. Nothing else mattered but seeing him in that moment.

"Lyla! Hold up! Where are you going?" I could hear Alex calling to me but I didn't pause, I just caught sight of the figure crashing through and scattering a group of leather-clad dominatrix types who scowled at me as I took pursuit, pushing them aside.

That's when the screams started up. At first I paid them no heed, this was the sort of establishment where the lines between pleasure and pain were blurred after all, but as the music was abruptly cut off it soon became apparent that something was wrong. Very wrong. People started bolting for the exits and I was shunted roughly into a pillar, losing sight of my intended target.

"Shit!" I cursed, spinning around as I heard Alex calling my name but with more urgency this time.

"Lyla quick! They're saying that somebody's been stabbed!"

Alex was already pushing through the throng and I followed her, swimming upstream as frightened and panicked people desperately made for the doors.

I knew what I was going to find before I even reached the back of the club where everyone was fleeing from. Death seemed to follow me like an unwelcome shadow, and there was one clear reason for that. People wanted me dead, and Van wasn't willing to let that happen.

An unidentified man was lying face down in a pool of his own blood, which was spreading fast enough for me to discern that the flow was arterial, and the amount told me that he was past saving. Alex gasped as she looked down on the gruesome scene, her eyes flicking to me for guidance, her earlier show of confidence retreating deep inside. I knew that look well, I'd seen it enough times. It was an unfamiliarity with death, and not just death, but violent death. Bodies torn and mutilated and broken and maimed. Sights that didn't even turn my stomach anymore.

I reached for Alex's arm, pulling her roughly and snatching her out of her trance. "We need to leave."

She stumbled behind me as I dragged her  towards the steps leading to the exit, protesting but not physically trying to stop me. "But... that man is dead. He's been murdered! Shouldn't we do something?"

"It's a matter for the police, let them deal with it," I said sternly, pushing through into the crisp December air.

Alex did stop me then, pulling her arm out of my grip. She wrenched herself away with that much force that she staggered backwards and I turned to face her.

"But he's literally just been killed. We might be able to chase down the murderer. We're trained agents for gods sake! We can't just turn a blind eye!"

I glanced around, conscious that the longer we stayed in one place, the riskier it was. Of course there was a chance that the stabbing in the club was a random attack, but my gut told me otherwise... and I always trusted my gut. It was clear to see that Alex wasn't going to leave the scene without good reason though. She was fresh enough and eager enough to 'do the right thing'. She wasn't like me, numbed to it all and jaded, and more importantly scared. Scared that if Van had been the perpetrator then that would likely mean one thing. That the man he had dispatched had likely been there to hunt me down and kill me. And if there was one, there could be more.

The streets were crowded as clubbers spilled out of doors and fire exits, not dispersing but lingering, their morbid curiosity getting the better of them as words like 'murder' and 'stabbing' started to circulate. My eyes darted about wildly, not settling on one person for long before they flitted to another. Paranoia gripped me in its icy clutches.

"Alex, we need to go NOW!" I shouted above the crowd noise, visions playing in my head of the barrel of a gun protruding through the mass of people, trained on me.

She hesitated and I waved my phone at her. "I'll call it in now. The police are already on their way I'm sure. This is just the way it is. We don't step on the police's toes and they don't step on ours. It's all about jurisdiction. It's bullshit really."

I shook my head, saw her expression begin to soften from determination to a kind of acceptance. An unwilling acceptance but an understanding nevertheless. I started to back away, glad to see her following in my wake.

I jabbed at my phone and did as promised as we both walked away from the club. The police had already been informed as expected.

"The police'll be here in minutes. We'd only be in the way" I told Alex and she was quiet for a moment as we both walked, me surreptitiously glancing around for signs that we were being tailed and her with her eyes fixed on the pavement.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually. "I didn't mean to question you... it's just that I joined the agency to fight crime."

I could feel her eyes on me now as we walked. "We're specialist agents Alex, we don't get involved with street crime. We go after the people who run the drug cartels, not the scum who push the filth on street corners. That guy back there... he was probably a junkie... nothing more."

"I guess it just shocked me... seeing someone killed like that in cold blood... I just felt like we should do something... you know?"

And I did know. I'd been there not so long ago myself, fresh out of the academy and ready to take on the world. I'd been so eager to do the right thing, make the right choices, prove my worth. Now look at me...

"Look... this is more than just a job, it's your life now," I told her. "But you gotta keep perspective. You can't catch every bad guy out there, and you're never going to solve every case. You need to keep your focus. What would your gaffer say if you got so caught up with some random murder that you ended up out all night chasing a mystery killer and then messing up your stake out tomorrow, hey?"

Alex nodded with eager eyes, keen to learn from me. It occurred to me then that she actually looked up to me and saw me as some kind of role model. The thought made me uncomfortable. All I seemed to do was lie and manipulate.

"I guess I still have a lot to learn...."

"It's ok," I reassured her. "You'll learn fast on this job... Let's go this way. It's quicker."

I turned on to a quieter road, relieved to be away from the harsh street lighting on the main road that illuminated us all too clearly, but it was still too busy for my liking and I quickened my stride, Alex's heels making a harsh clacking sound on the paving slabs beside me. She was completely oblivious to my concerns, in full flow now, telling some tale of a cheating ex-girlfriend and a string of dead-end jobs and her finally finding her calling in the agency, but I wasn't truly listening. I was in surveillance mode, senses heightened, looking for tell-tale signs that we were being followed.

A dark red Audi slowly cruised past us and I tensed. This was the second time the car had driven by. I waited until I saw it indicate to turn up ahead, possibly intending to make another pass, and I grabbed Alex's arm by the elbow, steering her down a dark alleyway.

"Hey... where are we going?" She said, hesitating, pulling back.

"Just come with me..." I whispered, pulling her even further into the gloom.

"What's up? The hotel's that way. It's right up ahead..."

I didn't have time for questions, I'd already seen the car appearing again from another side street further down the road, ready to make another drive-by, confirming my suspicions. I just didn't want Alex to know. She was eager enough without adding more fuel to her inquisitive nature, and the thought of getting someone else involved and endangering yet another life was unthinkable. I needed to handle this on my own.

Alex was already trying to step back out of the darkness of the alleyway so I acted impulsively, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and pressing her slight body up against the brickwork, concealing us both in the shadows once again.

"What are you..." she began to protest but I cut her off by pressing my lips against hers in a sudden burst of inspiration, hearing her words turn into a passionate moan as her hands grasped at my hips in an instant.

She was soft and sweet with a sensuality that made my heart race, her lips moving against mine like she couldn't get enough of the taste of me. I almost let the feeling consume me, but I stopped myself, fighting the urge to let go. This was a ploy, nothing more, a distraction.

I pulled away just as suddenly as I'd leaned in, slightly breathless, stepping back, glancing around to see the tail end of the Audi way off down the road, a safe enough distance away that we wouldn't be seen.

"Lyla... I didn't think... I mean I hoped, but I didn't think..." Alex was wide-eyed, the red stain of her lipstick smeared over her pretty lips which were agape with surprise.

"It was only a kiss," I replied quickly. "Don't get any ideas."

"Yeah... yeah... of course," she blurted, stepping out to follow me as I moved back out on to the street. "I mean it can be whatever you want... I know you're only here for one night... but if you do want to stay with me tonight I won't expect anything after. I know how these things work."

I winced inside at her keenness, quickly surveying the route to the hotel, picking up a pace whilst she trailed behind, struggling to keep up in her heels.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," I said plainly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I think we should just keep this professional, okay?"

Alex's hopeful expression folded in an instant and she forced a smile as we reached the hotel and she darted forward, opening the door for me. I thanked her, saying an awkward goodnight as she slunk off in the direction of the lift, glancing back as if I might suddenly change my mind and follow her. I quickly looked away. The last thing I wanted to do was to lead her on. She seemed like a decent person and in another life we probably could have been friends or even more, but that wasn't the life that I'd chosen. Van was entwined so tightly now in the fibre of everything that I did that there was no room for anyone else.

I moved back towards the glass door, peering out into the night, considering my next move. I was sure Van was out there somewhere, and the thought of him being so close without being able to reach out to him was almost a physical pain. It was maddening, but what could I do? I was nothing more than a pawn in this game that was being played out, and all I could do was wait.

My room was located on the fourth floor and I took the lift up, looking forward to turning in for the night. It was clear now that the agency had been grossly wrong to take away my back-up and I considered calling them. I couldn't prove anything but I knew Paul would believe me. He'd probably send someone to extract me straight away.

Something was stopping me though. A simmering kind of exhilaration at the thought of potentially seeing Van again that made my heart and my mind race simultaneously. Maybe the agency didn't need to know about what had gone down tonight after all... not just yet.

Let's face it, Van's done a better job than the agency at protecting you so far anyway!

The thought made me smile to myself as I slipped my key card into the lock, hearing the quiet click to signal that I could open the door.

The hotel room was small and pokey and the whole building was in dire need of a refurb. The agency certainly hadn't dug very deep into their pockets for this trip and to me this spoke volumes about how far I'd fallen out of their favour. Maybe this was just a sign of things to come. First grotty hotel rooms, then stripping me of any back-up. What was next?

"No fucking mini bar, that's what!" I muttered to myself, laughing at my own joke.

Christ, I needed a drink. I was aware the alcohol was becoming an emotional crutch and I was loathe to admit it to myself but seriously, what else did I have right now?

I sighed, rolling the tension out of my shoulders, then I unzipped and slipped out of my jeans and unbuttoned my shirt.

A tiny movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye, and my head snapped up to see the edge of the curtain move, as if a slight breeze had taken it. I darted over and grasped the fabric, sliding it open in an instant.

Fuck... the balcony door was open an inch. I'd certainly not left it that way. All of a sudden the hotel room seemed even smaller, like the walls were closing in on me, my throat constricting with panic as I slowly turned around to find that I was no longer alone.

[azaarchiive]

Only The Elite; Hinata Shoyo

insider; koutarou and tetsurō’s phone call

notes; we are so back.. dw this is just a tease, ill release two more chapter as my welcome back gift ❤️ 865 words

NEXT

tetsurō watched the phone dial, his nerves starting to kick in.

him and koutarou had been fairly close every since they played against each other in the second year, their schools were kinda sister schools in a sense, except nekoma was built from a rich woman's pity and fukurodani was built to create leaders and generate the richest of the rich.

koutarou never once held this against him, sometimes tetsurō even forgets that koutarou is a thousand times richer than him - the problem was koutarous family.

ever since they found out about their friendship, they have been trying to keep them apart. from creating petty rumours to trying to get him expelled to even blackmail, but they powered through it. which is why they both value their friendship more than anything in the world.

so technically, tetsurō shouldn't feel so nervous, but the daunting fact that the fate of his friends lives lay in his hands- with this very phone call- could be quite nerve wracking.

before he knew it, koutarous booming voice played from his phone.

"aye, testicals! missed you man, why haven't you called sooner?" koutarou chuckled.

"midterms are kicking my ass right now, i wish i had more time to call you bro." tetsurō smiled.

"awe damn, good luck man! i can hire a tutor if you need anything?" koutarou suggested.

"nah, don't wanna leech off of you." tetsurō half-joked.

koutarou showed his love through physical affection and lavish gifts. and while it's very cute of him, it truly hurts tetsurō pride when koutarou rents a castle for his birthday week while all he can give him is a home-cooked meal and a road trip to the beach (with a side of drunken kisses that they swore to leave in the past, what happens in ishigaki, stays in ishigaki).

"don't be like that." koutarous sighed.

"anyways, i have a question." tetsurō quickly shifted the topic, they have had too many arguments about this subject and it only leads to days of no contact which they both loath equally.

"shoot."

"how open invite is y/n's party?" tetsurō asked.

"oh.. my... god.. you want to come? BECAUSE I SWEAR YOU WILL-"

"no kou, i told you that despite how much i value you, i will never come to those parties." tetsurō cut him off.

koutarou wants tetsurō to meet his friends, that's all he has ever wanted as he got closer to tetsurō. but tetsurō never wanted to, simply for the same reason why doesnt like koutarous lavish gifts. pride.

being around them would only make him feel inferior for something he simply can't control and tetsurō is not in the mood to pity himself for a whole night.

"ugh, boring! but who were you talking about?" koutarou asked.

"well, i know these guys who would love to come." tetsurō answered cautiously.

koutarou would instantly know what he was trying to imply if he mentioned they were from karasuno as there is no doubt koutarou doesn't know about the gentrification plan.

"hm, i mean i could pull a few strings. n/n is not that strict on guest list, as long as one of us knows them." koutarou informed.

"well since i know them, then it should be easier to let them in because you trust me so much. thanks kou! see you-"

"wait a minute, why you acting like that?" koutarou questioned further.

this was not good, tetsurō couldn't keep a secret from koutarou for the life of him.

"like what?" tetsurō chuckled nervously.

"like you're hiding something, testicles, you know you can tell me anything, right?" koutarou spoke in a honey-laced tone, one that he know could break tetsurō in a second. but he had to remain strong.

"they're drug dealers from america." tetsurō blurted out.

'fuck, shit, fuck, shit, what the fuck am i saying?' tetsurō thought to himself.

"what?" koutarou replied.

"i mean- they went to harvard and came back for a change of scenery, they wanna check out the area to see if they can buy a house there and they found out about the party. they thought it would be a good chance to see what kinda people live there." tetsurō was just speaking to speak at this point, he wasn't even sure if he was making sense but hoped the more he would talk, the more believable it would be.

"tetsurō, no offence, but how the hell do you know harvard graduates?" tetsurō could hear his smug voice from the phone, he's about to be caught and he needs to think fast.

"i used to get my shit imported from there, found them through kenma on his gaming group."

"is it now?" koutarou slowly spoke.

"yes?" tetsurō said, it honestly sounded like he was questioning himself.

"hm.... i know you're lying but i wanna see how you pull this lie through. fine, i want 20 grams of coke, the dress code is royalty and there are only four plus ones i can bring. good luck!" koutarous cackles as he ended the call.

"well, that could've gone a lot worse." tetsurō bargained with himself, clicking on tsukishima's contact to bring the news to him.

[thatndginger]

another set of pages from the Idiot's Guide, waiting final run-through. I'm quite pleased with this little project ^.^

transcript under the cut:

SHAPESHIFTERS

What to Call a Werewolf? There’s one thing you can count on in the world, and that’s for no one to ever agree on what’s the ‘right’ thing to call a shapeshifter. Only scientists and academics use that stupid ‘metamorph’. Most people in Moressau settle for ‘were’ or ‘shifter’. If you know what kind of shifter you’re dealing with, calling them a werelion or whatever regional term you know is probably fine. Just don’t call them a beast unless you want them to act like one.

Debunking the ‘Werewolf Myth’ Because ‘shifter’ is such a broad category of supernatural, there are a lot of rumors and hearsay floating around out there. Hollywood certainly doesn’t help. So let’s get some of the worst rumors out of the way, shall we?

First and foremost, no weres aren’t controlled by the moon. They won’t uncontrollably transform under a full moon, or grow stronger in moonlight, or whatever else Hollywood has fed you. A transformed shifter isn’t a mindless animal or killing machine. There are some shifters who have trouble controlling their animal sides, but in those cases they’ll act like any other animal. Lassie doesn’t attack everyone in sight, does she? Most shifters are fully in control of their animal sides, and you’ll only have to worry about one attacking you if you’ve pissed them off.

Second, not every bite from a were will kill or turn you. Which is hardly comforting, since you won’t know that until after they’ve bitten you and you’ve spent about half an hour shitting yourself with panic. No one knows how it works, but a were has to want to turn you for the magic to take hold. That said, a big enough shifter doesn’t need to Bite you to kill you.

Spotting a Shifter There’s no one-size-fits-all way to pick out a shapeshifter in a crowd. They look like any other mundane human. Act like any other human. Until you get close enough to notice that they have a cat’s eyes, or pointier-than-normal ears, or freckles that look more like spots. Every shifter has a ‘quirk’ courtesy of their animal form, though it’s not always immediately obvious. I know a werewolf who has fangs in human form, and another who acquired a ‘birthmark’ in the shape of their wolf side’s markings after they survived the Bite. Each quirk is unique to the shifter in possession of it.

Behavior is another one of those things that is unique to each were. Some naturally take on certain behaviors of their animal form, while others will only act like an animal when they are an animal. They’re like humans that way. You can’t just shove them all into one box and expect them to act the same.

Finding a Shifter Shapeshifters don’t have a lot of restrictions the way some other supernaturals do. They can go where they please when they please. Except for the fact that most mundanes are still scared of them and keep shifters cordoned off in specific neighborhoods like Amber Wood and The Point on the north edge of the city. So if you’re trying to find some entertainment on the wilder side, start there.

The hangouts in Amber Wood tend to be the friendliest to non-shifters. Belmont’s Basement is a historic dive that’ll let anyone through the doors as long as they don’t start trouble. Then there’s Ovidia. Be warned, the music and atmosphere is quieter than a usual human club, since Ovidia caters to the sensitive senses of shifters first and foremost.

The Point has been undergoing a bit of a gentrification spell. If you think the home turf of the Montrose Syndicate can be gentrified any more. Word to the wise: stay out of Arnaud’s Run. That’s where the top Montrose brass live, and they do not like outsiders. There’s a reason we Moressans say “leave the Run to the wolves.” You’re more likely to get a set of teeth in your throat than you are to get a warm welcome in the Run.

If you want to try your luck, check out The Hunt on Starfall, or Silver Bullet lounge. But don’t blame me if the wolves take offense to strangers in their territory.

Were Deterrent? There Deterrent! Silver will mildly irritate a shifter, but it won’t kill them. That whole silver bullet thing works because, it turns out, guns kill things. It doesn’t really matter what the bullet is made out of. Wolfsbane will do the exact same thing to a shifter as it does a human: kill them. Don’t you know wolfsbane is incredibly poisonous? Just touching the stuff can kill a mundane, let alone a werewolf.

If you want to keep a were from transforming, slapping a collar made of copper and rowan branches will do the trick. It’s how cops ‘subdue’ shifters in Moressau. Why rowan? Who knows. Same reason vampires hate it, probably.

by far the easiest way to keep a were away is to smell. Like, really smell. Most weres have heightened senses and will avoid you like the plague if you stink bad enough.

Shapeshifter tag list: @sunset-a-story @touloserlautrec

[deathsmallcaps]

Blue beetle spoilers. And spoilers for Macario (1960)

There’s plenty of articles out there already with this info but these are my thoughts.

Ok I just saw Blue Beetle and I’m in love with Xolo Maridueña!!! His character Jaime Reyes is so enthusiastic and loves his family and ultimately kind. And he has sweet eyes XD. It’s really cool he got the role because of his martial arts skills.

Harvey Guillén is in there! He plays another character with the same last name, de la Cruz, so maybe we can jokingly have crossovers in this universe with What we do in the Shadows. Blade (admittedly Marvel but still) is semi-canon already. (I didn’t catch the entirety of his real name sorry, just definitely the end.)(idk if Guillermo de la Cruz is his full name or if his name was shuffled around/inaccurately represented due to USian naming customs)

I loved George Lopez as Uncle Rudy. He rocks the kookiness!

Nana was hella cool. Between her implied revolutionary backstory (she hates Imperialists! The way she pulls out her braids when it’s time to attack makes me think that she was part of a pro-Mexico or maybe pro-Indigenous force back in the day) and Ignacio’s backstory (his mother, his only family, murdered in a ‘anti-communist’ attack in Guatemala, and then he was sent to ‘Escuela de las Americas’, a USA funded ‘school’ that basically churned out child soldiers and later adult destabilizers sent out to disrupt Latin America in the name of USian interests (its still in operation), and then he was experimented upon by the very people that ruined his life (a la the Tuskegee Airmen Experiment) really speaks to the racism and imperialism that affects the family in the movie and many people face today (preaching to the choir I know). The fight ain’t over.

(First link is in spanish, second link is the English Wikipedia page)

I appreciate that a good half of Jaime’s family were not in the US legally. The constant terror and unwillingness to seek help for fear of attention was quite palpable, and I think really adds to the idea that superheroes are supposed to make sure ALL people live safely and happily - legality should not contradict human rights. And hell, even though they were in the USA, their home was still threatened - by gentrification!

The poor Dad’s death is sadly not an uncommon phenomenon. Many immigrants, but especially undocumented ones, work themselves to the bone, both physically and emotionally. Poverty and instability kill more than any capitalist would ever like to acknowledge. And yet Alberto still found it in his heart to be kind whenever possible. I really respect that. And I think his kindness inspired Rocio (the mom, who is totally cool) and Milagro (sister) to keep on after his death.

The body horror aspects were interesting, for both Jaime and Ignacio Caripax. I hope they lean into that in later works.

But what really caught my eye was the cave of candles that appeared twice in the story. There’s a European story, Godfather Death, about a godchild of the personification of death who gets given the power to heal, and ultimately (in some people’s views) wastes it in greed and/or love. He gets to watch his life, represented as a candle, blow out. However, in Spanish, death is a feminine concept, and so Death is a godmother in that situation. Godmother Death* is thus a common story in Latin America too, but especially in Mexico and Guatemala, where Maya beliefs mixed with Catholic ones.

It turns out, the creators wanted to bring in some Latine magical realism and reference the classic Mexican film, **Macario, which is based on a novel based on a local legend that was likely based on La Madrina Muerte. I’ve ordered the book, lol, and will watch the movie soon. I’m quite excited to see it.

I found it quite interesting that Jaime’s acceptance of Khaji Da and the Macario/Madrina Muerte scene happened really close to each other. In a way, he chose compromise to continue with life, as opposed to Macario’s/the Godson’s stubbornness which lead to their deaths. His willingness to work with Khaji Da (scarabs are symbols of rebirth btw) shows a willingness to work with his place in the life and death cycle, and the Madrina Muerte themes showcase his interest in alleviating suffering***.

In any case, if you have money for a ticket, I highly suggest going to see Blue Beetle! It’s totally worth it.

*La Madrina Muerte, in Spanish. I’ve been somewhat obsessed with it since I was a preteen, as I came across the Spanish version translated to English first. My tumblr name is *somewhat* related lol.

I was somewhat inspired by La Calavera Catrina art, Santa Muerte and the Grim Reaper when I drew this.

**for some reason tumblr has decided that two links is quite enough for this post. Sometimes it just doesn’t let me add more links? Or copy/paste!!? Anyway if you’d like to read a more knowledgeable article about the relationship between the two films, look up ‘macario blue beetle’ & then an article by slashfilm will appear.

***In the legend, the godson is given a plant, a potion, or just the power to heal. But he must abide by Death’s position by the bed of the afflicted person. If death is at the foot of the bed, then they were meant to live, and he gets to take away their suffering and cure them entirely. But if Death stood by the head of the bed, then the person was meant to die soon, and so the Godson had to leave them be. In either case, Death prefers to end suffering - through complete healing or a cessation of life. However, Jaime makes sure (when he can) to help people live and be able to choose what to do with their life (like in the case of Ignacio). And Khaji Da respects that.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 10 - The World We Make by N. K. Jemisin

I’m generally a huge fan of Jemisin, so of course I had to read this as soon as I realized it existed, even if I really didn’t think The City We Became needed a sequel on pretty much any level. And yeah, it didn’t!

Like, I’ve already posted about my issues with this book extensively, so will try to keep this relatively succinct. But broadly – there were about twice as many POVs as the wordcount could actually support with their own subplots, Ry’leh and her minions had all the threat and grandeur of a Saturday morning cartoon villain, the broader metaphysics/plot didn’t actually much sense at all , basically every actual problem the characters had was resolved as soon as they actually tried, and, generally, the book’s highest aim really seemed to be more engaging in some cathartic effigy-burning of various political analogues than it did really telling any sort of coherent story.

The book has virtues – the sentence to sentence prose is very good when it doesn’t read like a DNC campaign mailer, and the characters who actually get screen time and internal conflicts are all very compelling (somewhat unfortunate that half of them are the villains). But just – it’s impossible to really feel like you’re rooting for the underdogs when the protagonists start the book in a commanding position with everything they need to win and nothing that happens over the course of the entire story actually puts them on the back foot for a couple of hours? Or I mean, I tell a lie, technically the entire book is a race against the clock of impending universal extinction, as caused by...Fox News and right-wing twitter running a bunch of anti-New York smear campaigns? Which was just so obviously arbitrary and driven by the needs of plot it was impossible to take seriously.

Just, generally, there is a real upper limit to how far you can stretch ‘the divine avatars of quite possibly the richest and most politically powerful metropolis in the world fight proud boys and a no-hope Trump wannabe running for Mayor’ into something that compelling. The literal global capital of financial capitalism, not an easy sell as ‘scrappy underdog’! Especially when the dominant tone used to talk about any of the human opposition is just sneering contempt. Which I mean, very true to life, but doesn’t do a great job establishing a sense of threat. Especially when the sneering contempt is just entirely justified, and every action on the part of the enemy basically just happens to allow one of the avatars to do an incredibly self-indulgent New York-themed bit of magic, probably humiliating an obvious analogue for some prominent right wing figure or archetype (trucker convoy, proud boys, etc) in the process. It’s just, so incredibly cheesy. At one point a city councilwoman is revealed to be a friendly acquaintance with Beyonce and able to call her in to help with her mayoral campaign. Wretched of the earth these are not.

But okay, to try and make this a bit more analytical and a bit less me ranting – I really don’t think the book’s conception of the soul or character of New York really coheres? It’s New York, but, like, the nostalgic fantasy of pre-Guliani New York mixed with the parts of it that modern progressives take pride in. At no point does the book explain in any even close to satisfactory way why the transparent Trump analogue winning would be more spiritually damaging than Bloomberg (or hell, Moses) was – we’re just supposed to take it as read that being the beating heart of progressive America is at the soul of what it means to be New York.

On a similar note – there’s a real ambiguity to what Ry’leh is supposed to, like, be, thematically? Or I mean, not really. She’s gentrification, not necessarily in the social displacement sense (but that too) as in the way that every central business district in every major city in the world increasingly looks the same, in the way that identical chain stores replace local small businesses, the tendency of modern capitalist development to erode the difference between places until a city is a city is a city, no matter what continent you’re on. Local restaurants bought out by numbered holding companies or international franchises and getting their menus and recipes from a focus group in California. Which is a great, meaty association for your villain! But, like, isn’t especially well served by also being specifically alt-right and Trumpist American right-wing politics (very, very much not the same thing!). And as soon as we get into what she and the Ur actually want everything just kind of stops making sense entirely. (She’s also just so, like, cartoonishly evil and constantly talking about wanting to end the world and make things worse that it’s impossible to take seriously and she just ends up one of the most endearing characters in the entire story.)

Anyway, yeah, Neek and Manny and Ry’leh and Aislyn were all great, but otherwise The City We Became really didn’t need a sequel.

[clay-cuttlefish]

more Blue Beetle thoughts, this time about Palmera City. Minor movie spoilers.

I'm really split on how I feel about Palmera City. For the movie, I think it's an excellent choice. It looks cool as hell, and having it be a fictional location works for making Kord Industries directly responsible for its development/gentrification. It also makes sense that they'd want Ted's base to be located close to Jaime so the characters can actually get there, so making up a place that fits both of their vibes is a fine solution.

I don't like that it's being brought into the comics, though. On Jaime's side, he's just so grounded in El Paso. Moving him to a flashy fictional city disconnects him from a lot of the strongest elements of his first solo - it could get interesting, but I'm not sure I'm quite vibing with the direction it's going, and the move doesn't help.

On Ted's side, I mind the move a lot less, but it doesn't really click with him in my mind. If you want to keep Kord Industries building in a fictional city, I really doubt that the Question's going to get anything involving his post-Crisis supporting cast, so it's not going to step on anyone's toes to move back to Hub City and give it some fresh paint. (I'd get Ted being more okay with doing major construction there, it could use some help.) He hasn't been there for a while, but it's not like there haven't been references to it. Also, I dunno, I like Chicago? It'd bother me less if there were references to it being a recent/contentious move, like Victoria had pushed to shift where the headquarters were, but so far I haven't liked his characterization in Graduation Day that much, and Victoria running the company in a city I associate with her rubs me the wrong way.

Really, I don't think it's a problem with Palmera City. It could be really cool! I like its aesthetic, there have been a few locations established that could get some unique personality, it's a good starting point for a place I care about. I just already care about other places more, and I haven't been convinced that moving was necessary to tell a good story. Maybe Scarab War will change that, who knows.

[redhydrogen]

Album Review:

Veteran (JPEGMAFIA, 2018)

(First Listen)

Veteran was Peggy's "breakout" album, so to speak. The annoying and pretentious "experimental hip-hop" crowd heralds it as an "essential" album up there with the likes of The Money Store and Yeezus. If you can't tell by the subtext, I don't really like those guys. But given my growing interest in JPEGMAFIA, I figured I'd finally cave in to them and give Veteran a shot.

I'll start by talking about the highlight of Veteran, by far; the production. The production is very non-standard, but also varied. In some tracks it is loud and off putting, but in others it is more reserved, quiet, and even close to being normal. 1539 is the most digestible production on Veteran, which almost feels like Peggy deliberately trolling anyone not familiar with him. What follows this intro however is anything but digestible, with ridiculous beats like Thug Tears, Rainbow Six (sampling Best Cry Ever? What??), Baby I'm Bleeding and Dayum, and I just love the approach Peggy took with the production on this album. It's weird, it's nonsensical a lot of the time, and it's great. The beats on Veteran make it special to me.

I don't normally talk about sequencing, but that is one of my few complaints with Veteran. Outside of 1539, which felt quite deliberately placed as the album's first track, nothing else feels like it was placed with any real care in mind. Is this inherently bad? Not in this case, but it is a personal peeve of mine, and I'd prefer if the sequencing was a little more thoughtful.

Let's talk about Peggy. Peggy spends 80% of Veteran (and to be honest, all his music) talking shit, and when he's not talking shit, he's probably bragging about something or flexing the fact that he's 26 with no children. The targets of his insults range from the alt-right, domestic abusers and Donald Trump to NeoGAF, gentrification and neoliberalism. Nothing is safe from Peggy's disses, and while some of them come off as hypocritical in light of recent events, they're still rather funny to listen to. JPEG's unique brand of chronically online bullshit adds character to all of his music, though I feel as if it's strongest and most evident on this album.

While I prefer AMHAC, Veteran is still a very strong showing from Peggy that I enjoyed quite a lot. The production shines through and through and Peggy's stupid-ass lyrics are oddly charming. I really like Veteran! (But those "experimental hip-hop" people are still annoying)

1539 N. Calvert - 8/10

Real N*** - 9/10

Thug Tears - 9/10

Dayum - 7/10

Baby I'm Bleeding - 9/10

My Thoughts On Neogaf Dying - 7/10

Rock N Roll Is Dead - 8/10

DD Form 214 - 8/10

Germs - 8/10

Libtard Anthem - 8/10

😱 - 8/10

DJ Snitch Bitch Interlude - 7/10

Whole Foods - 9/10

Macaulay Culkin - 7/10

Williamsburg - 8/10

I Cannot Fucking Wait Until Morrissey Dies - 7/10

Rainbow Six - 8/10

1488 - 7/10

Curb Stomp - 9/10

Favorite Song: Thug Tears

Album Score: 7.9/10

[jonnyparable]

Wakaba Forever

While I really enjoyed working through scenic Senbamachi, poor Wakaba presented quite a challenge with regards to how the lots are placed, but more on that later.

In the end, what I decided on for Wakaba was to add a little historical context. So Wakaba, being lower lying than the other hoods, (seeing as how there's rice growing here) was part of the modernisation and consequent rail expansion in 1900s Japan, and was part of a supply chain for Japan's industrial era, functioning as a lumbering and mining town. The town became successful and like many towns, started to Westernize, hence the mix of architectural styles.

Today the town is trying to modernise, and is going through intense gentrification to rely on tourism, which ties in nicely with the in-game narrative, and the tensions between new and old.

Ok oh boy here we go. So, first I changed the lame lounge lot into a Shrine, with an attached museum and gift shop, which makes alot more sense seeing as how it is next to the train station, and directly faces the mountain. This also gives more context as to why a massive strolling garden would be built there in the first place, as its part of the Shrine's compound. Not sure why an open mic comedy bar needed to be there obnoxiously sitting in the middle of the entire area's symmetry but it's gone now. In its place, there is now a lovely, more culturally appropriate focal point for the whole area.

So the rental lots in Wakabamori I had a real issue with. The designs were so bizarre and tacky, maybe that is the point, so no offence to the game changers who built them, they did their best, but the placement was strange too. They are in a park, basically, with shit access to the main road, and sitting on dirt, giving them a very rural feel, yet being just meters from a very manicured contemporary paved path, and behind a large urban plaza. It's all very odd. Houses in suburban to rural Japan are typically built very close together, wall to wall, or boundary to boundary. So this strange area honestly just perplexed me as to how they wanted this area to look. As it stands, the lots look more like shipping container shops or like a pop up mobile library your town does to encourage child literacy.

Ugh so I just decided to smother the area in large, thereby old, trees and shrubs, so the houses there felt less like pop up cafes, and where I landed is that the area is an older, up to now, forgotten part of town, and the three rental lots I decided to turn into old abandoned homes from the town's hey day, facing demolition if nothing can be done with them. With newer, uglier, modern (hood deco) houses built just next door, these houses are now central to the tension between Shigeru Nishidake and Naoki Ito, who both have very different plans for what should be done with them.

The first is the Potter's House. The house once belonged to a ceramicist, but has been empty for decades. The style here shows some blending of Western architecture a signature of the area, like the use of red brick for the kiln, and the additions to the side of the house, with the central house being older and more traditional.

And of course if we are talking about a mix of east and west, you have to have the Totoro house here. The house is known as the Poet's House, and once served as the private home of a well known writer in the region. After his death, he had no kin, and the property has been left to rot.

The third property is a very stately family home, once a large traditional home that a two storey western house extension was added onto. This was actually very common in Japan, with old houses having modern extensions where newer family members would stay. This house is the Doctor's House, and was once the home of the region's first practitioner of Western medicine and her family. The family has only recently abandoned the property, being too costly to maintain, and now live in the city. The house's fate, like the others, is now also hanging in the balance.

The last property, which started as the Ito family home, is now a ~farm~. I mean, come on, it's a huge lot, next to the river, furthest from town, and faces a rice padi. Why the Itos, who love to ski, would stay here and not on the mountain just did not make sense, maybe they take the train to commute I guess. But anyway, obviously I evicted their asses and they now live in the mountain, where they belong.

This farm is known as the Okawara farm, and has been neglected for years as well, following the death of the owner, who's grandson will now inherit the property. His success here will be where the gameplay will really start. The fate of the farm being central to what ends up happening to the whole area, surprise surprise.

And that's all for Wakaba for now. Sorry if this sounded salty but oh my god. Well anyway I'll share some stuff about Yukimatsu next, where I had a much easier time!

[thegeminisage]

10 supernatural and it can't be gentrification or john, 19 merlin

ok, but you say "it can't be gentrification or john" like i don't have 60000 other issues. fish in a barrel.

10. worst part of fanon

well, i could cheat and say every single thing going on with sam, especially post s6. but i hate specifically that deancas fics are always getting rid of him or that he's just there to react to deancas. like, i know the point of a deancas fic is dean and cas, but i'm unhappy in general with the idea of cas replacing sam as dean's #1 priority, especially in the name of ""mental health"" which is a rant that gets too close to gentrification so i'll move on.

it's just plain out of character for dean not to put sam at #1, and i think part of what makes cas such a great fit for him is that cas is probably the only person on earth who sees that and can roll with it accordingly. just think of how it went with lisa once sam came back into dean's life...he couldn't have both, so he chose sam. he wouldn't run into that problem with cas because cas WOULD ALSO choose sam, on dean's behalf. the only thing cas would put before all of that is jack (his own personal sam), which is why he was so betrayed when dean made jack get in a box and also made him hang out with his dead baby. dean should have reciprocated by putting Jack First, cas expected him to do that because they have been de facto coparenting jack the way they not-quite coparented sam (cas by no means has a parental relationship w sam, but prioritizes him as a parent would). and dean was just like "nah," and for that he OF COURSE deserves to die

anyway, it's a very nontraditional family dynamic/layout which is kind of the point of ~found families~ and all of that in general, and aside from being annoying and insulting when people write sam out of it, it's also BOOORING. i can read about two damaged men fucking anywhere in the migratory slash fandom canon. do BETTERRR

19. you’re mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like…

sigh. i'll say it. bradley james...is not the worst human being to look at in the later seasons. is he Hot? i wouldn't go that far. but he's not Not Hot either.

[ASK MEME]

[autismtana]

nude erections* and what sydney suburb they'd live in (in a weird ass AU where glee is set in sydney)

(from a glee/brittana veteran born and raised in sydney, australia and who has listened to a lot of the whitlams over the past few weeks)

finn: eastwood

it's such a simultaneously random and boring suburb, like literally, who lives in eastwood of all places??? i once got so bored that i just got the train there just to check if it was a real place. but i could totally see finn hudson living there. it's like ... not quite north shore, not quite inner west, it doesn't even have the decency to be ryde ... for the record, i'm not trying to be finn-unfriendly here, like he's not my favourite or anything, i'm just saying he'd be from eastwood.

rachel: double bay

rachel berry is the bougiest new directions girl hands down and the bougiest girl needs to live in the bougiest suburb. she bonds with blaine over their posh eastern suburbs-ness.

mercedes: alexandria

alexandria is one of my favourite places to go in sydney, and mercedes is one of my favourite nude erections, so that tracks

kurt: surry hills

i was so close to putting kurt in edgecliff and i still don't know if i regret that decision. but he'd probably also suit surry hills.

tina: glebe

tina cohen-chang is the poster child for glebe (also on a side note, glebe has a book store called glee books, just thought i'd put it out there). also i just realised i put tina in the suburb where josie alibrandi lives and rachel in one of the suburbs where all the posh mean girls at her school live ... ummmmm props feels anyone???

artie: artarmon

ok so this one was kind of hard but it works ... artie is officially short for artarmon. i don't make the rules.

puck: parramatta

so i actually quite like going to parramatta but all my north shore friends are scared of it for some reason. something about it is very puck. idk why ... like it's kind of basic but it's got a bit of an edge to it.

quinn: turramurra

if rachel is the eastern suburbs bougie bitch, quinn is the north shore bougie bitch. i was a scholarship kid at an all-girls private school and all the bitchiest and bougiest girls lived in turramurra. she frequently reminds finn that eastwood is NOT the north shore.

santana: redfern

redfern is santana's stomping ground and she would definitely make sure everyone knows she lived there from birth (i.e. pre-gentrification, before it became full of hipsters). also, quinn will happily drive to glebe, surry hills and alexandria to hang out with/pick up tina, kurt and mercedes respectfully, but she nearly had a heart attack the one time she had to drive to redfern to pick santana up ("why can't you just walk to surry hills?" "um, it's surry hills, quinn, emphasis on HILLS. what do you even think's going to happen in redfern anyway?" "someone tried to murder me." "bitch, that was me and it was because you tried to steal my cheesy garlic bread."). on a side note, watch redfern now on netflix or abc-iview, it's good.

(also - quick commercial break here - since i brought up looking for alibrandi with tina, i should also point out that i put santana in the suburb where jacob coote lives ... and seriously it's an amazing book and movie and everyone should watch it honestly australian media is amazing and brilliant and we're so isolated a lot of you are missing out on our stuff ok i digress thanks for coming to my ted talk bye)

brittany: newtown

brittany is totally a newtown girl (making brittana a beautiful inner west-inner city love story). she also probably orders lord of the fries food to troll rachel with it, and she takes santana out to dinner at the italian bowl every friday.

mike: carlingford

tbh this one was kinda hard and i was trying to come up with suburbs that aren't in the east, north or inner west. but carlingford is home to james ruse, the school that has topped the hsc every year since the 90s, and mike is canonically one of the students with the best grades and a member of the brainiacs group, so there's that

sam: sutherland

sam's a shire boy. he's not edgy enough to be a cronulla boy but he's a shire boy. (and in writing this, i'm now realising i could have given this one to rachel, what with her often being referred to as a hobbit and all...). he's not one of the ratbag boys from puberty blues, but he's more like garry.

blaine: vaucluse

blaine is a posh private school boy and vaucluse is the bougiest suburb of all sydney suburbs, so i'm giving that one to blaine (and he would definitely be a scots boy)

(*the OG squad minus matt - sorry matt, plus sam and blaine)

(also if you want to know where i grew up, all i will say is that it was the eshay capital of sydney ... do with that what you will)

(also I really should have included a map, but google maps is free so go use that if you wanna find out more about sydney suburbs and all that good stuff)

[thedisorientedarchitect]

Can organic architecture be the key to a better sustainable future?

Perhaps the most ambiguous concept in all of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work is the notion of “organic architecture,” something he struggled to define (and redefine) throughout his entire lifetime. The term organic architecture was first coined by the eminent architect “Frank Lloyd Wright”. He wrote that “the ideal of an organic architecture …… is a sentient, rational building that would owe its ‘style’ to the integrity with which it was individually fashioned to serve its particular purpose—a ‘thinking’ as well as ’feeling’ process.“

            But to understand all this one must first understand the phrase organic architecture.  Organic architecture is a type of architectural design where built forms are inspired by, built around, and blend in with their natural surroundings such as in mountains, dessert, forest, water etc. An organic architecture refers to its relationship with nature and its simplistic use of styles and natural materials that create a cohesive whole. One of the defining principles of organic architecture is achieving a harmonious balance among shells (built structures) , Anthropos and nature.  Few of notable organic architectural structures among us are :

Falling water by Frank Lloyd wright

Casa Milà by Antonio Gaudi

The Audette House by Peter Muller

Sustainability is a word that, like organic, is used nonchalantly quite often. A sustainable ecosystem is one where nature, the built environment, and human life, and their component coexist as a family without having a negative impact on their other self. Sustainability is colossal term meaning ,meeting our own needs without compromising on the future generation. Sustainable architecture is architecture methodology with a conscious state of mind. Sustainable architecture must fulfill all the needs required in today's growing world, while working on sustainable architecture one must think about the correct approach into the materials, technique, Space and the environment in one has to work. Sustainability usually becomes difficult while trying to maintain a balance in the project as it is quite an unique arena.

But in a world prominent for urbanization, gentrification and deforestation, organic architecture may offer a sustainable solution to the everlasting battle between mankind and nature. It may help to reconcile our continuously expanding cities and mass constructions with nature and our biosphere. People define organic architecture in today’s world by the connection between interior and exterior in their surrounding environment or the practice of abstracted plant geometries,  a form of architecture embedded in nature’s forms and principles. Some people believe  it relies on the juxtaposition of natural and modern materials, while few feel it  follow Wright’s vision of characterizing contrasts and volumes.

Organic architecture does priorities a type of local or regional construction, using traditional materials and resources from the area where the building is located. It is closely related to its context and is aware of the specific geographic features and cultural aspects of its surroundings, being strongly influenced by them. For this reason, they are unique to different places in the world, becoming even a means of advocating a sustainable identity. While organic architecture itself alone wont solve the world problem of sustainability when plunged deeper into it, vernacular architecture might. Given that vernacular architecture is a subpart of it.  Today, many of the buildings throughout the world are made in organic architecture style as it  influences those looking to build homes made from sustainable materials and congruent with their environments.

Wilkinson Residence by Robert Harvey Oshatz

note : pictures aren't my own

[hcolleen]

Looking at the cringe spell vs welcome posts, it seems very obvious that we olds of Tumblr who were here prior to the 2018 porn ban and Yahoo and Verizon are quite happy to welcome those who understand that Tumblr is a unique ecosystem and will fight to preserve itself. Those who refuse or disrespect that idea (like Yahoo and Verizon did) will find themselves very lost and angry here, flouncing out in a huff, claiming to understand what 'hellsite' means.

Those who give it a chance and learn from the Old Ones will truly understand what we mean when we say hellsite, that it is a term of love for those who reject capitalism that doesn't respect the user base, those who still enjoy memes from 2012 because they still make us laugh or remember good times, who like the idea of stealing the president's shoelaces, who know all news comes from Castiel saying I love you, who know who Gail is without ever really seeing more than screenshots and can fill in the text even if it's not there. We welcome people who are willing to understand that this site has no algorithm and learn that censorship harms more than it helps. If you don't want to say suicide, then use self-harm as it is closely related and vaguer, but don't bother with another T site's nonsense as people who don't want to see that type of content have those words and tags blocked.

On this site, we are responsible for what we see, not some random algorithm that tries to push content for money. Speaking of which, unless you have something to sell, a tangible thing like art (including writing), then you won't make money here. There is no follower count or view count that will cause the capitalism gods to shine on your wallet. We reject capitalism on this site, though we will pay for Tumblr's nonsense because they're honest in their marketing and make things that tickle our whimsy.

Tumblr can be a lovely home in a co-op high rise as long as you understand that gentrification is against the agreement for living here. You are responsible for making a nice home for yourself, but you cannot change someone else's home, nor demand they change it for you. When you explore, learn to look away from things that you don't like (that's what blocking words or tags are for. If it's an actual bad thing that causes real harm in the real world, that's different, but by and large (like hardly ever), is anything 'purity' culture wants to foist on others (like those of us who are just too old for that shit) worth the effort.) look away from it. If you are willing to explore your beliefs and challenge them, remember you can always close the door or look away. You don't need to scream and clutch your metaphorical pearls. It's best to learn how to live and let live.

And remember, one person's hell is another person's heaven and home. May you find your heaven.