#My affordable roof former

[davidboggsroofer]

Budget-Friendly Metal Roofing Solutions with My Affordable Roof

Metal roofs are a durable and long-lasting option for residential and commercial buildings. John David Boggs is the owner of my affordable roof and also an expert roofing contractor who specializes in metal roofing services. Pastor David Boggs is known for his high-quality workmanship, attention to detail, and excellent customer service.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

[heterotopian]

The Tale of Two Cities according to Stephi and Heiko - Part 497

After Halloween and the beautiful sceneries of the season, I come to you with a more serious topic this week. Munich and Cologne are not the cheapest places to live in Germany. Especially Munich is very expensive, even though Cologne isn’t far behind.

How expensive both cities are can bets be seen how rare affordable living spaces are in our cities. Rental prices are climbing by the minute and just when I look at how the prices rise in my building when an apartment is again available, it’s breathtaking. Plus, landlords want to make the most of these situations and try to raise the rental prices even when you have a contract already with all kinds of tricks.

As rare as affordable renting places are apartments or even small houses to buy. These prices are through the roof just the same. Yet, you have different problems when you own a place.

For both, tenants and owners, there are different associations that can help you with alle kinds of problems. The first picture shows you a Munich Mieterverein, a tenant association. The second picture form Cologne shows you an associations of owners that has been established in 1988 already and has a pretty prominent location in the middle of the city. That already shows a clear distinction between owing a place and renting one as the former has been the goal for along time. Renting a place has long been regarded fr people who can’t afford a place of their own. These days it’s almost impossible to do either in one of the bigger cities at all. Also, renting a place makes it way easier t change locations that owning a place does.

What do you people prefer, renting or owning a place?

[qqueenofhades]

The Tennessee 3 are going to be at the DNC tomorrow! One of them is my state rep and I voted for that man four fucking times thanks to republican fuckery. Gloria Johnson won the primary and will be challenging Marsha Blackburn! We can dream! She’s a former teacher too

Listen, if we are afforded the opportunity to get only one shocking Senate win in a red state, I can't decide if I want it to be Johnson beating Marsha Blackburn in TN, Colin Allred beating Ted Cruz in TX, or Debbie Murcasel-Powell beating Rick Scott in FL. The incumbent GOPers are all so hideous and any one of them losing would be incredible, so... yeah. I realize, I REALIZE, that Texas is the white whale for Democrats, but even if Harris can't quite win the state, the idea of nuking Cruz at long last?? Chefs kiss. Incredible.

Anyway, Day 3 in the books, can't wait for Day 4 tomorrow. I think the roof might actually, physically blow off when Kamala walks out to accept the nomination, and believe me, I am Ready.

[vsvitrix]

Hi. We're V's and Sam (I'm Sam, writing this). If you know us, you know we've been working hard to try to find an affordable place to live. The building we currently live in was great at first, but the former management company drastically stepped back from their duties after the first year and allowed it to fall into disrepair, even while raising our rent 20%. The property is income-restricted, and they are demanding more of my wages than we can afford. It's been hard to keep any bills paid due to the increased costs, and there are constant issues with fire alarms being pulled and going off for hours at a time, a recent month where the main door to the building was broken and unable to be opened from the outside, and refusal of maintenance orders. (We have 2 broken light fixtures in our apartment, one of which has had a pending order for over a year.)

I work from home, and over the last few weeks have lost significant wages due to the apartment above us catching fire and the resulting counter measures flooding our apartment. The maintenance people assigned to us have been entering our home without notice and have demanded we run a dehumidifier (which pumps out heat) 10-12hr per day during a heat wave. My mental and physical health has been compromised, as has my ability to work from home without interruption. We are running out of money to support ourselves and we're unable to get public assistance due to shortage of resources.

We have found a place that is drastically cheaper than our current one that we're just waiting to hear back from the landlord about the other applicants before we can move in on the 1st of August. We need roughly $2000 to move in between first month's rent, deposit, and other fees. My income right now is being used just trying to keep a roof over our heads, let alone pay bills or eat proper meals.

Please, if you have anything to spare safely, we would sincerely appreciate it. Getting out of this apartment will allow us to build up our funds and sustain ourselves without the constant environmental challenges. Thank you for your consideration.

[espers-n-espurrs]

The Effects of the Darkest Day on Spikemuth

i said i was going to write this and write this i shall. apologies for any spelling mistakes or the like, im typing this on my phone.

here we go.

the darkest day was horrific for all in galar but i want to focus on spikemuth as that is where i am from.

for those of you unaware of spikemuth let me paint a picture.

spikemuth is the poorest city in galar, with low income and high poverty rates. the city itself exists within several large warehouses, each housing different portions of the city. the reasons behind the city having been built in warehouses was because the city was founded by the homeless who used those abandoned warehouses as their home. over time they managed to build homes and stores and the like within the warehouse walls and soon spikemuth was born.

it is also one of the many reasons spikemuth is known as the home of the punks as punk culture resonated with those that had been beat down by the hands of the big man.

but onto the darkest day. the second darkest day occured on november 15th, 2022 during the galar league championship. you see, spikemuth tends to go pretty hard when it comes to the championships (especially because marnie had gotten to participate that year) so many had taken the day off and were spending it with friends and family to watch the championship on the telly. everyone was having a blast, partying and drinking and just having a good ole.

but then former league chairman rose did what he did. i dont have to recount it. most of us know what he did.

so instead let me speak about the rampaging dynamax pokemon. you see, while spikemuth did not have an artificial powerspot as former gym leader piers adamantly refused to have one built (for good reason) that didnt mean eternatus wasnt making natural ones spawn.

so pkmn started to dynamax within the warehouses of spikemuth, breaking through the warehouse ceilings and sending building toppling down as the roofs that once kept us safe fell down.

i will not go into much more detail about that but as a result spikemuth suffered the highest amount of casualties of any city in galar from this event. many without their friends or family and now for many that survived they were without a home.

and the homeless crisis for spikemuth was only going to become worse as the city began to get repaired.

only two part of spikemuth and their warehouses could be repaired, allowing them to still exist within the warehouses that founded this city while the rest of the city that had to be rebuilt had to be built outside of the warehouses. entire parts of our history was removed or demolished as the city had to be rebuilt.

and with the rebuilding of the city came the gentrification. investors and the like trying to help rebuild the city by builder fancier apartment complexes than what we had and expensive housing. so expensive in fact that most spikemuthians could not afford it. so i stead of building affordable housing to combat the homelessness crisis they in turn mad it worse that what it had been before. more and more people with higher incomes from other cities moving to spikemuth and the price of living just kept going up.

and i dont care that more people are moving to spikemuth, i love spikemuth, but its making it harder for those of us that already lived here.

my family managed to get a new flat after everything but its not any bigger than the one we had before or really that much nicer and yet it is much more expensive. before the darkest day we were considering moving into a bigger flat that wouldve cost the same amount as the one we now have but we cant. do that anymore.

and the city is still rebuilding. its only been a year and a half since the darkest day. we will be rebuilding for a while. and im worried about what direction its going to go.

the darkest day has had a lasting effect on more than just being traumatic. and it will have a lasting effect for generations to come.

[eruherdiriel]

Duty

Jonsa ficlet Rating: T Universe: Canon, vaguely bookverse Other: Marriage of convenience, Queen Sansa, Sansa POV

Also on AO3.

Sansa finds him under the heart tree, Longclaw across his lap and a whetstone in his hand. He looks so very much like Father it hurts and makes what she is about to say all the more disconcerting.

“My queen,” he greets her, then returns to his work.

“My prince.” She spares Jon any further pleasantries. They will not change what she has to say. “The North needs heirs. I need an heir. We cannot ignore that forever.”

Jon’s hand stills, and though he does not look up, she can see his face become guarded.

“We’ve done our duty.”

Sansa holds in a sigh at his intentional obtuseness. “It takes more than once, Jon.”

“Aye, it can.” Finally, he looks up, but he keeps his eyes from locking with hers. “I thought to give you more … time, before we made a second attempt.”

Their wedding night had been a stilted affair at best; she had trembled, he had frowned, but they had seen it through. Sansa had tried not to think of the men who had touched her before, or how surely Jon was willing himself to think of the woman who came before her. 

“You’ve had me once. Surely another time will not be so different,” she snaps. It won’t be different. Your kiss will always taste of duty, and I will never give myself wholly to anyone. But some childish dream buds inside her at times, when he offers her a hand as they walk over icy ground or when he scowls at men who overlook her authority. 

Regaining her composure, she continues, her tone softer. “You leave soon. We cannot afford further delay.”

It’s not just about heirs. Sansa does not know how long Jon will be gone, only that she dreads the absence for the awkwardness it will engender in his return. It would be better to become accustomed to his touch now. And what if he does not return? Despite everything—the oddness of a match to a man she once thought her bastard brother, who is the opposite of everything she once wished for—Jon has been a better husband than any of her former suitors could have been. No one else could love the North and Winterfell as well as she does. And if he gets her with child, perhaps she could forestall another marriage if he falls in the war against his Targaryen aunt.

Jon eyes her. “Would you want children even if it was not your duty?”

The question startles her. No one has ever thought to ask me. Bearing children was always expected of her, a sure part of her life. But yes, she has dreamed of a family, and she wishes for one still.

“I want children.” Then, because she honestly does not know, Sansa asks, “Do you?”

She wonders how much Jon has allowed himself to even consider the idea of a family. Since they reunited, she has seen a glint of desire in his eyes for things he never should have wished for—for Winterfell, for a title—but Sansa also knows he has denied himself. “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa,” Jon had said when the Northern seat was offered to him. Learning that had caused another bud of hope to emerge in her, though she tried to temper it.

His answer comes swiftly. “Yes.”

Sansa’s tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth. She swallows, trying to bring moisture back so she can form words again.

“Then we both get something we want. It shall not merely be duty.”

Jon purses his lips as if in disagreement but doesn’t refute her. His eyes drop before he speaks, resuming the work of sharpening Longclaw. “I’ll come to your chambers tonight then, your grace.”

She nods, then remembers he isn’t looking at her anymore. “Tonight,” she says before turning away and attempting not to run from the godswood—not to run from him. It would be unbecoming of a queen, and she is not afraid of him.

All day, her tummy flutters for nothing: when Jon’s fingers brush her back as she sits in the chair he has pulled out for her, when his eyes meet hers to communicate silent agitation as Lady Cerwyn complains about troop commitments, and when his fist taps on the door of her chambers in the evening.

“It is only us here, my queen,” Jon says before they begin. “No one else.”

Is it? she wonders. Along with their ghosts, surely the nobles and smallfolk have a presence with them in this act. It is for them, for the assurance of her people that she and Jon strive for an heir. And for ourselves, and the family we both desire, she reminds herself. Then her husband says something else, something that makes her heart stutter.

“Let me make it good for you,” he whispers between kisses. “Let me try.”

She should not allow his words to plant a seed in her heart, but the look in his eyes is needful and vulnerable in a way Jon so rarely allows himself to be seen. Sansa finds herself nodding, letting him kiss his way across her body, letting him rid her of her shift, letting him touch and kiss her in ways that start to feel nothing like duty.

[reaper2187]

Caitlyn x female prisoner reader

Prisoner's help (part 3) pev next

Y/N and Caitlyn stood poised, their bodies tensed for action. The imposing figure before them was unlike any they had encountered so far. His presence exuded authority and danger, a combination that made it clear they were in over their heads.

“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The man smirked, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “Names are unimportant. What matters is that you’re trespassing in my territory.”

Y/N and Caitlyn exchanged a quick glance. This had to be one of the Chem-Baron's key operatives, if not the Chem-Baron himself. Y/N’s mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. They couldn’t afford to get caught, not now.

Before she could say anything, Caitlyn moved, quick as lightning. She lunged at the man, aiming to disarm him. He was faster than he looked, dodging her strike and countering with a swift kick that sent her sprawling. Y/N didn’t hesitate. She followed up, launching herself at him with a series of rapid punches. He blocked most of them, but one caught him on the jaw, making him stagger.

Caitlyn was back on her feet in an instant, joining the fray. The two of them fought in perfect sync, their movements fluid and coordinated. But the man was strong, too strong. He fought back with a ferocity that left them both struggling to keep up.

As the fight raged on, Y/N spotted a group of the man’s henchmen entering the warehouse, drawn by the commotion. “Caitlyn, we need to get out of here!” she shouted.

Caitlyn nodded, ducking under a wild swing from their opponent. “Agreed. Follow me!”

They broke away from the fight, sprinting towards a stack of crates that led to an upper level. The henchmen gave chase, firing shots that ricocheted off the metal walls. Y/N and Caitlyn scrambled up the crates, reaching the upper level just as the henchmen closed in.

“Up here!” Y/N shouted, pointing to a narrow walkway that led to a skylight. They ran across the walkway, the sound of gunfire echoing around them. Reaching the skylight, Caitlyn smashed it open with the butt of her rifle, and they climbed through, emerging onto the roof of the warehouse.

“We need to lose them,” Caitlyn panted, scanning the rooftops for an escape route.

“There!” Y/N pointed to a series of interconnected rooftops that led deeper into the maze of Zaun’s buildings. “If we can get over there, we can lose them in the alleys.”

They sprinted across the rooftops, jumping from one to the next with practiced ease. The henchmen followed, but Y/N and Caitlyn had the advantage of knowing the terrain. They ducked into an alley, weaving through the narrow streets until they were sure they had lost their pursuers.

Finally, they stopped to catch their breath in a dark, secluded corner. Y/N leaned against a wall, trying to steady her racing heart. “That was too close.”

Caitlyn nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. “Agreed. We need to regroup and come up with a new plan.”

Y/N’s mind was already working. “We need more information. Orin mentioned the Chem-Baron had connections in Piltover. We need to find out who those connections are.”

Caitlyn frowned. “Easier said than done. We can’t just waltz back into Piltover and start asking questions. We’ll draw too much attention.”

Y/N considered this. “There’s someone I know in Zaun. An old contact. SHe might have information we can use.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Can we trust her?”

Y/N shrugged. “As much as you can trust anyone in Zaun. But she owes me a favor. It’s worth a shot.”

The contact in question was a woman named Jinx, a former associate of Y/N’s from her more reckless days. She was known for her erratic behavior and love of explosives, but she also had a network of informants that rivaled any in Zaun.

They found her in her makeshift workshop, a cluttered space filled with half-finished gadgets and weapons. Jinx was tinkering with a grenade when they arrived, her wild eyes lighting up at the sight of Y/N.

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N!” Jinx exclaimed, her voice a manic mix of excitement and amusement. “Didn’t think I’d see you again. What brings you to my humble abode?”

Y/N smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Need your help, Jinx. We’re looking for information on a Chem-Baron operating in this area. We think he has connections in Piltover.”

Jinx’s expression turned serious, a rare occurrence. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N. This Chem-Baron… he’s bad news. But I might have something for you.” She rummaged through a pile of papers, pulling out a crumpled note. “There’s a meeting happening tonight. Some bigwigs from Piltover are supposed to be there. Could be your guy.”

Caitlyn stepped forward. “Where?”

Jinx handed her the note. “An old factory on the outskirts of Zaun. You’ll have to be careful. Security will be tight.”

Y/N nodded. “Thanks, Jinx. We owe you one.”

Jinx grinned, her usual manic energy returning. “Just don’t blow yourselves up. That’s my job.”

As night fell, Y/N and Caitlyn approached the old factory. It was a massive, dilapidated structure, its windows broken and walls covered in graffiti. They could see lights inside, and the shadows of people moving around.

“We need to get closer,” Caitlyn whispered. “Find a way in without being seen.”

Y/N nodded, pointing to a side entrance. “There. Looks like it’s not as heavily guarded.”

They crept towards the entrance, slipping inside unnoticed. The interior of the factory was a maze of rusted machinery and debris. Voices echoed through the halls, and they followed the sound to a large room where a group of men were gathered around a table.

Y/N recognized some of them as prominent figures in Zaun’s underworld, but her attention was drawn to a well-dressed man at the head of the table. His polished appearance and air of authority marked him as an outsider—likely one of the Chem-Baron’s Piltover contacts.

“We need to hear what they’re saying,” Caitlyn whispered, moving to find a better vantage point.

They positioned themselves behind a stack of crates, close enough to overhear the conversation. The well-dressed man was speaking, his tone commanding respect.

“The shipments will continue as planned,” he said. “Our operation in Piltover remains secure. The Enforcers are none the wiser.”

Y/N’s heart sank. This was bigger than she had anticipated. The Chem-Baron’s influence extended deep into Piltover, and they were only scratching the surface.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed. “We need to get closer. Get some proof of what’s going on here.”

They edged closer, careful to stay hidden. As they did, one of the men at the table glanced in their direction, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Y/N froze, her heart pounding.

“Did you hear that?” the man asked, standing up.

The room fell silent, and Y/N knew they were seconds away from being discovered. She glanced at Caitlyn, who nodded. They had to act fast.

Caitlyn sprang into action, launching herself over the crates and tackling the suspicious man to the ground. The room erupted into chaos, with the other men scrambling for their weapons. Y/N followed, her fists flying as she took down another thug.

The well-dressed man tried to make a run for it, but Y/N was faster. She caught up to him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

“Who are you working for?” she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

The man sneered, but there was fear in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Try me,” Y/N hissed, tightening her grip.

Before he could answer, a deafening explosion rocked the factory, the shockwave sending Y/N and the man sprawling. Dust and debris filled the air, and Y/N struggled to her feet, coughing.

Caitlyn was beside her in an instant, helping her up. “We need to get out of here!”

Y/N nodded, grabbing the well-dressed man and dragging him along. They made their way through the chaos, dodging falling debris and disoriented thugs. Finally, they burst out of the factory, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat and smoke inside.

They didn’t stop running until they were far from the factory, the sounds of sirens in the distance. Y/N released the man, who collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

“Now,” Caitlyn said, her voice cold. “You’re going to tell us everything. Who you’re working for, what the Chem-Baron’s plans are, and how deep this goes.”

The man looked up at them, his defiance fading in the face of their determination. “Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll tell you everything. But you have to protect me. If they find out I talked…”

“They won’t,” Y/N said, her voice firm. “But you need to start talking. Now.”

As the man began to spill his secrets, Y/N and Caitlyn exchanged a glance. They

were uncovering a conspiracy that reached into the highest levels of Piltover, and there was no turning back now.

[roguekhajiit]

Conspiracy theory time.

Please note: Not now, nor have I ever been, a hard-core kool-aid drinking conspiracy theorist. I engage in these topics for fun only.

This is one that I have been formulating in my head for the past couple of months. Be warned, it's long.

Trump is staging his own assassination attempts to earn sympathy votes.

PART ONE

Thomas Matthew Crooks was allowed to walk around a Trump rally carrying a gun. He didn't make any attempts to be covert. He was allowed to access the roof of a building that was conveniently left unsecured with a direct line of sight of the former president.

Following the shots, Trump is allowed to stand up and raise his fist in the air, with the American flag conveniently waving behind him for a photo op.

Now, this could have been halfway believable. The photo op is suspicious by itself. But then we have the maga politicians who didn't waste any time taking to social media to lay the blame on democrats and liberals. Your candidate was just shot (supposedly), we didn't even know the shooter's identity yet, and they were already in full gear with the blame game.

Then, in the days following this attempt, every wanna-be private investigator on the internet was digging up his voting and spending history in order to shift the blame onto democrats and liberals. I mean, it couldn't have possibly been an ex Maga cultist who finally took the blindfolds off. He HAD to be a democrat.

Of course, they found some obscure donation on ActBlue that may or may not have been his. And that was all she wrote, folks. He was a bonafide, hard-core, liberal. There's no possibility that someone can switch parties. You just can't do that in American politics. It's not allowed. In fact, it might as well be illegal.

Then, there is Trump's ear situation. He says the bullet hit his ear. He even had that obnoxiously oversized bandage on his ear for a couple of days. But then it was gone. No scar to prove the bullet ever hit him.

Some say that he's a billionaire, and he can afford the best surgery money can buy. But hold up there for a second. If he's a billionaire, why does he need to raise money to pay his court fees? Why does Granny need to withdraw money from her life savings so Trump can pay his attorneys? Shouldn't he just be able to write a check?

Even if he wasn't actually in debt up to his toupee, he's 78. Cosmetic surgery on a 78 year old ear isn't going to be perfect, and it sure as hell would need extra time to heal. Sorry, folks, Trump just doesn't have super healing powers.

PART TWO

Ryan Wesley Routh is a 58 year old ex-con, ex-Trump voter living in Hawaii working as a handyman and bringing in a $3k a month salary.

On September 15th, just 5 days after Trump's disastrous debate against Kamala Harris, Routh is arrested for allegedly attempting to assassinate the former president. He was spotted apparently pointing a rifle through some bushes at Trump's Florida golf course. It was originally estimated that he was 300 to 500 yards away from his target. After being fired upon, he fled in a black Nissan, which a witness was conveniently there to take a picture of, and drove 50 miles before he was pulled over and detained without incident.

At the scene, they found a gopro, two backpacks full of ceramic tiles (what for?) and his rifle.

After the incident, different details were revealed, and many were contradictory.

The incident was immediately classified as an attempted assassination. Reports stated shots were fired, but it wasn't immediately clear if he fired any shots. Later, they would say he didn't even have TFG in his line of sight. Yet, he was reportedly 300 to 500 yards away.

The Sheriff praised the secret service, saying they did everything they were supposed to do. Yet they didn't do a perimeter check of the golf course before TFG started golfing? Just weeks after the previous assassination attempt and subsequent increase in his security details? Shouldn't a perimeter check be included as part of the SOP for protecting a former president?

It is also reported that he made multiple flights between Hawaii and Florida in order to scope out places Trump was known to frequent. On a $3k a month salary.

Now, we get to the blame game. Of course, as with Crooks, maga was quick to label Routh as a democrat. Conveniently enough, they were also apparently able to find donations from him on ActBlue. But not so fast. He voted for Trump in 2016. Isn't it possible that someone can hold bipartisan views? Nope, according to MAGA, if you have a Harris/Walz bumper sticker, you're a terrorist.

PART THREE

Now, just five days after Trump said,

“I’m going to go there in the next two weeks. I’m going to Springfield. You may never see me again, but that’s OK. Got to do what I got to do. ‘Whatever happened to Trump?’ ‘Well, he never got out of Springfield.’"

The government and media are releasing the contents of a letter they claim was written by Routh to the World:

“This was an assassination attempt on Donald Trump but I failed you. I tried my best and gave it all the gumption I could muster. It is up to you now to finish the job; and I will offer $150,000 to whomever can complete the job.”

There are a lot of questions that surround this. Firstly, why release this? This puts a bounty on TFG. Secondly, the person who had the box claimed to hold it for several months, never looking inside. Not once? Thirdly, this means he would have written this months in advance well before Crooks ever fired his first shot. It also means he never planned to succeed. That would make this less of an attempted assassination and more of a suicide mission.

But when we look at Trump's statement 5 days ago, which seemingly predicts his own death, it starts to look like this letter was released intentionally. There was another letter that was found in his possession, but they aren't including it as evidence, nor are they making its contents known. Just the one that puts a $150k bounty on his head. Whose gonna pay? Surely not the guy sitting in jail who was only earning $3k a month.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

You Have My Attention: Throne of Glass First Lines

As THE tentpole faerie smut author, Sarah J. Maas needs no introduction. Her debut series, Throne of Glass, however, had to catch its readers and build an audience long before A Court of Thorns and Roses exploded onto the scene. So how does SJM introduce her readers to Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's Assassin, and the rest of her cast of characters?

After a year of slavery in the Salt Mines of Endovier, Celaena Sardothien was accustomed to being escorted everywhere in shackles and at sword-point. Most of the thousand slaves in Endovier received similar treatment--although an extra half-dozen guards always walked Celaena to and from the mines. That was expected by Adarlan's most notorious assassin.

-- Throne of Glass

The shutters swinging in the storm winds were the only sign of her entry. No one had noticed her scaling the garden wall of the darkened manor house, and with the thunder and the gusting wind off the nearby sea, no one heard her as she shimmied up the drainpipe, swung onto the windowsill, and slithered into the second-floor hallway.

-- Crown of Midnight

Gods, it was boiling in this useless excuse for a kingdom. Or maybe it felt that way because Celaena Sardothien had been lounging on the lip of the terra-cotta roof since midmorning, and arm flung over her eyes, slowly baking in the sun like the loaves of flatbread the city's poorest citizens left on their windowsills because they couldn't afford brick ovens.

-- Heir of Fire

There was a thing waiting in the darkness. It was ancient, and cruel, and paced in the shadows leashing his mind. It was not of this world, and had been brought here to fill him with this primordial cold. Some invisible barrier still separated them, but the wall crumbled a little more every time the thing stalked along its length, testing its strength.

-- Queen of Shadows

The bone drums had been pounding across the jagged slopes of the Black Mountains since sundown. From the rocky outcropping on which her warn tent groaned against the dry wind, Princess Elena Galathynius had monitored the dreadlord's army all afternoon as it washed across those mountains in ebony waves. And now that the sun had long since vanished, the enemy campfires flickered across the mountains and valley below like a blanket of stars.

-- Empire of Storms

Chaol Westfall, former Captain of the Royal Guard and now Hand to the newly crowned King of Adarlan, had discovered that he hated one sound above all others. Wheels. Specifically their clattering along the planks of the ship on which he'd spent the past three weeks sailing through storm-tossed waters. And now their rattle and thunk over the shining green marble floors and intricate mosaics throughout the Khagan of the Southern Continent's shining palace in Antica.

-- Tower of Dawn

He had been hunting for her since the moment she was taken from him. His mate. He barely remembered his own name. And only recalled it because his three companions spoke it while they searched for her across violent and dark seas, through ancient and slumbering forests, over storm-swept mountains already buried in snow.

-- Kingdom of Ash

[explicit-tae]

Pride & Gluttony

Pride; a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements. Gluttony; over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or wealth items, particularly as status symbols. Upper level demon Seokjin - known as the deadly sin of Gluttony - follows alongside Namjoon - known as the deadly sin of Pride- returns to Earth 50 years after their demonic counterparts to wreck havoc on a new generation of sinners.

Lust - Envy - Wrath & Greed - Sloth

Warning: voyeurism, threesome, oral (m receiving), degradation,

Word Count: 1,427

Alternate Universe

Time passes through realms differently. Earth was fairly slow compared to Heaven and Hell. Time doesn’t necessarily exist outside of Earth, so it’s safe to safe that when nearly 50 Earth years passed, it was as though a few hours had passed through Hell. The scenery has changed much - especially the castle Namjoon visited with his counterparts. The castle appeared much higher than before and expanded a few hundred miles out. Next to the castle stood the cemetery grounds where the former rulers laid to rest - majority of them in Hell where he resided.

Namjoon’s eyes and ears expanded throughout the land - the townspeople complaining of their lives living within such a place. The tax skyrocket year after year and the pay was less and less each few months. The townspeople often complained about the way they lived - working to fund a lifestyle of the non-working class (the royal family) while their own family barely made it day by day.

“My roof is collapsing.” Murmurs a man as he takes a bite of his sandwich served on moldy bread - yet that was all he could afford.

“You’d think the amount of taxes we pay they’d fix our homes.” Says another man - not too loud enough for the guards to hear, they had eyes and ears everywhere.

The words of the people caused Seokjin to snicker. The former Queen had fought long and hard to regain the trust of the townspeople - even killing her own sister who was ruling in order to do so. All of her work had long went down the drain. People adored the former Queen right up until her timely death. However, her daughter - the eldest child - has ruined her mothers good deed. She didn’t take after her mother but instead her aunt, a women she never met. Maybe greed was in their blood.

The current Queen, Y/N, wasn’t as diabolical as her aunt. Did the townspeople hate her? Sure - yet she had a lifestyle to live by and guards and knights to pay. Her castle needed renovating and the cost to open new business around the land wasn’t cheap. Her mother wouldn’t be proud of her for doing what she does, but her mother’s disapproval no longer lingered ove her head. She was proud of herself, after all. She stepped up after her mother’s death and did what was needed to be done. She brought extra reinforcements in from outside sources to assist in building multiple warehouses and storefronts.

You sit with your arms crossed. The throne chair was tall, even towering over your figure and nearing the ceiling. Your sister sat besides you, eyes scanning the crowd before her with such lack of interest. It was unbearable to sit alongside the Queen and pretend to be interested in whatever politics was spewed out.

“This is my kingdom!” You hissed, nails digging into your thrown chair and you uncrossed your legs. Your eyes squinted at the rowdy crowd yelling and spewing out their hatred for the Kingdom.

“You all will bow to my word or…” you shrug, leaning back into your throne chair. “…burn.”

Gasps erupt through the Kingdom; along with several murmurs. “You all will do as I say or die.”

You hear your sister snicker then sigh. She leans back into her chair further and turns to the side to look at someone.

The scene freezes, the shouts of protests coming from townspeople emerges to a complete silence. Seokjin raises a brow while Namjoon hums. Yoongi shakes his head as the three figures shine before their eyes.

Humility shakes their head.

Temperance grimaces.

Diligence wrinkles their nose at the scene.

“Obviously,” Seokjin crosses both arms. “you’ve requested our presence for this reason.”

It wasn’t taboo for the sins to meet their opposites, capital virtues, nor was it taboo for them to join forces for, as their opposites put it, “the greater good”.

“We’ve been dealing with this problem for years.”

“50 to be exact.” Temperance shakes their head. “And we believe-“

“For the greater good we eliminate the sinners.” Yoongi murmurs word for word - the same words he’s heard time and time again; for centuries.

Diligence scoffs.

“You know,” Namjoon hums. “for beings that are supposedly high, mighty and virtuous…you sure need our assistance with eliminating those who you deem unworthy.”

It’s no secret that those who resided in Heaven are not against asking those who reside in Hell for assistance. They’ve asked countless times before and would even after this situation. However, it didn’t come without a price.

“What do we do? Drag them to Hell with us?” Namjoon glances to the frozen face of the Queen.

“We’d have to ensure the rest of the Kingdom is in mint condition before we do anything.” Humility insists.

“If we handle this problem,” Seokjin waves his hand to the frozen Queen and Princess. “The bloodline will be wiped out.”

“And this Kingdom will fall.” Yoongi hums, yet he couldn’t are less.

Temperance tilts their head, defeated.

“Unless,” Namjoon snaps a finger. Below them, a large portal opens and fire engulfs.

Temperance, Diligence and Humility stammer back with wide eyes. “What in Gods name-“

“Wrath.” Namjoon nods. “Hobi.”

“I was busy.” Hoseok rolls his eyes and snarls at the three heavenly figures.

“Lemme guess, you need our help? Again.”

You scream at the top lungs, arms thrashing to side to side while your legs kicked. The pain was excruciating - until it wasn’t. Your ears rang in realization that you were the only sound you could hear - no longer the equal screams of your sister; nor the shouts of the townspeople.

Your eyes snap open, unsure where to focus on. You begin to tremble with the realization that you weren’t alone - and you weren’t clothed. Your arms go to wrap around your body the best you could.

“You’re finally with us.” A voice calls. “That means the townspeople have killed you.”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. The last memory you had was the townspeople rioting. A few glimpses of breaking out and the pain you felt when the flames hit you - yet everything remains fuzzy.

“W-Where’s my-“

“Dead.” Another voice says - but your eyes can only stare straight head at the sea of people - creatures to be exact. “Welcome to Hell.”

Your reaction doesn’t come. Not because you weren’t utterly shocked by the mans words - but because you’re unsure how long you’ve been with said men (and the crowd of creatures). Hours? Days? Years? It was as though time didn’t exist in this realm. One moment you were greeted to Hell - and the next, possibly an eternity afterwards, you’re entangled with both men.

They were beautiful, you note. You can make out their appearance even with blurry eyes. Tall, dark hair with piercing dark eyes to match. Lips plump and flushed pink and facial features sculptured by Gods - but these weren’t godly men.

You cough when Seokjin releases himself from your lips. You gag, air finally reaching your throat.

“Once a prideful Queen, now a whore for the Underworld to see.” Namjoon snickers.

Your mind swirls, but you’re remained uncertain just how much time has past until the faces of the creatures are blurry; unrecognizable. Your fear turns to excitement and now you’re more than willing to be used by these men; to be fucked for however long they’ve desired.

When Namjoon ordered you to be for him; you did, nearly crying for him to make you cum.

When Seokjin told you to swallow all of his cum he shot into your mouth, you complied without a second thought.

You gladly complied riding Seokjin all the while Namjoon watched, calling you degrading names; but you enjoyed each second of it.

You’re covered in cum - the question (you stopped wondering) was how long you’ve been on Hell, but you no longer care. Centuries could have past and here you laid complacent in utter bliss.

Seokjin hums, tilting his head. “It’s been 20 earth years. When are we taking her out of hypnosis?”

Namjoon shrugs. He watches the way your body jerks on the crowd, eyes rolling in pleasure - pleasure you’re not receiving, but in your hypnosis state of delirium, you believe you are. “This is her punishment, after all.”

Your punishment indeed, to break you down and make you - a once gluttonous and prideful being, now completely torn down and complacent for the very demons that made you his way.

@juju-227592 @silversparkles11 @iheartsvt @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632

Next

[davidboggsroofer]

Your Trusted Partner for High-Quality Metal Roofs | My Affordable Roof

Metal roofing service is the process of installing, repairing, or replacing roofs made of metal materials. My affordable roof owner John David Boggs provides a range of services related to metal roofing, such as roof installation, repair, maintenance, and replacement.

[hannahhook7744]

Sticks And Stones (And Great Falls) Can Break My Bones, But Words Will Never Hurt Me!:

Summary: Turns out, shit happens when tons of villains are released at once.  Hannah Hook honestly expected more shit to happen but she's not complaining (much).  Trigger warnings: Broken bones, child abuse?, minor violence, swearing, etc.

—————————————————————————

If there was one thing anyone—isle resident or Auradon citizen—knew, it was that Hannah Hook was…not the most well-balanced person. 

It was just a simple fact. One that was common knowledge: the sun goes up and down, grass is green, the sky is blue, and Hannah Hook is the clumsiest person alive when on land. 

There was no question about it. No denying it. 

Even strangers knew it by now.

….So why her friends thought letting her be the main one to pursue the Evil Queen after she went on the run (after she turned little Glauco White into a pine tree) was a good idea, none of them could quite explain…

Well, except for Athena Grimhilde-Westergaard, who firmly insisted that it was Kyle White’s idea and thus his fault—to which he would quickly point out that none of them had stopped him from asking Hannah to do it, so it was actually their fault.

How or why it happened, no one knew. 

All anyone really knew was that asking  the clumsiest person alive to pursue any wanted criminal—let alone the evil queen—was a horrible idea and that it was bound to go wrong: and it did. 

—————————————————————————

“Hannah stop—”

“Slow down—”

“You gotta give up! We’ll get her next time—”

Hannah kept up the chase—pushing herself to go faster and faster, unwilling to let the Evil Queen get away this time. 

They had already lost sight of her once: Glauco had been a pine tree for weeks now. They couldn’t afford to lose her again. They had to catch her now. Who knew what would happen if Kyle’s little brother stayed a tree for any longer.

The brunette had never seen Kyle and Sophie look so miserable before and she never wanted to see it again—so, she wasn’t gonna stop running until she caught that blasted witch. No matter what her friends said. 

The Evil Queen had gone unchecked for far too long and it was about time that changed. 

—————————————————————————

Howiee knew what was gonna happen before it even did: he knew Hannah. Knew how impulsive she could be when it came to her friends and their happiness. He knew the moment the Evil Queen jumped off the roof of the castle that Hannah was gonna follow, consequences be damned. 

Which is exactly how he found himself lunging forward in vain—cursing under his breath because he knew that even with his speed and quick reflexes that he wouldn’t be able to catch her in time. 

The whole world seemed to slow down around him as Hannah fell, hand outstretched towards the queen. Brown eyes narrowed in determination as all the friends they had with them screamed. 

Snap. 

—————————————————————————

Hannah barely registered the sharp pain in her left arm as she pushed herself into a sitting position, a satisfied grin on her face as she watched the evil queen swear and thrash around in the net the pirate had set up to catch her.

“You insolent little commoner welp! Just you wait until I get my hands on yo—”

“—You’re gonna turn Snow White’s son back into his human form.” Hannah stated matter of factly, cutting the former queen off. Vaguely aware of the sound of her friends’ approaching footsteps.  

The Queen laughed. “And why would I do that?”

“Because—”the fourteen year old leaned forward, an almost unnaturally big smile on her face that didn’t quite meet her eye, “–if you don’t, I’ll just hand you over to King Ben and watch as he locks you away and spend the rest of your life annoying you day and night until you do it. Or until I snap, whichever comes first. And we all know just how annoying I can be when I have a cause to be. Oh and we’ll give all your assists to the dwarves, including your castle—”

That earned a scowl from the queen, who was still desperately trying to escape from the magic blocking net. “—ALRIGHT,  ALRIGHT! YOU WIN! I’LL TURN THE BRAT BACK!”

Hannah just smiled even bigger. “Pleasure doing business with ya.”

—————————————————————————

Hannah sat happily making faces at the still tied up Evil Queen, alongside (11 year old Glauco) in Ursula’s Fish & Chips. Completely unaware of her friends’ peril at the bar.

Howiee had his face buried in his hands. “I can’t believe she broke her fucking arm.”

Athena was pale, clutching a seaweed soda in one hand and one of her hatchets in the other. “Chasing my mom.”

“Trying to get my brother back.” Klye groaned, head on the counter. “Darcy, Herlando, and Gunner are going to kill us when we get back to the ship.”

“Kill Howiee and I, you mean. I doubt your parents are gonna let you anywhere out of their sight once they found out just how close to the Evil Queen you were.” Athena shot back, already imagining her funeral. Knowing just how pissed the medics were going to be when they found out that Hannah had broken her arm on their watch and that they still hadn’t treated it yet. “And that’s if Luke, Skia, and River don’t beat them to it.”

“Or Zoe, or–” Howiee shuttered “—Treycor,Alex, and John.”

Kaliani set down another tray in front of them, looking unimpressed. “Shouldn’t you guys be more worried about how the Hooks are gonna react?”

Athena shook her head, eyes wide in disbelief. “Man fuck the Hooks. The Hooks I can handle. But my brother? My brother is gonna fucking kill me for this.”

“I can’t believe you’re seriously scared of Luke of all people.”

The brunette threw her hands up. “Kailani, have you EVER seen my brother get mad? He’s a MENACE!”

“He folds his socks and bakes Creme Brule!”

“He dyed all of my clothes puke green and shit orange the last time I fucked up, Kailani! And that was over his cat, what do you think he’s gonna do when he finds out something happened to Hannah!”

Kailani paused. “You guys should dye your hair, change your names, and move to Agrabah.”

Howiee banged his head on the counter–denting it—“we’re all gonna die.”

[savage-rhi]

*inhales deeply*

LET'S GET DANGEROUS....

I know I don't owe anyone anything, but I want to be transparent about why I've not been as active lately.

My recent job loss and the discrimination that contributed to said loss had me severely depressed. After coming down a little from survivor/PTSD mode, I needed to take space from everyone and everything. I am starting to feel better, thankfully.

I have been performing odd jobs in my neighborhood so that I am good on cash for bills and housing this month and part of next month. Beyond that, I don't know what to expect.

I am still working on my Ko-Fi shop. This is one of those things I jumped right into thanks to survivor mode, and I didn't account for everything as thoroughly so I'm taking my time with it.

I did speak to a few legal advocates and a couple of lawyers during these past few weeks. Here's the good, bad, and ugly:

Good: Yes, there was illegal discrimination at play. My place of employment didn't handle things the way they should've regarding my excused absences related to disability, and they contributed to emotional duress and screwed over my education prospects.

Bad: I didn't have a paper trail for everything, but I had enough to prove that I did what I was supposed to do on my end when it came to adhering to my place of employments processes. There is sadly nothing that can be done about the third party health insurance company that played a role in screwing me over.

Ugly: Even with the pro-bono stuff that was offered, I'm looking between 20,000-35,000k out of pocket if I wanted to take this to the highest.

Folks...I do not have 20-35k lying around nor the emotional bandwidth to go through a trial/suit. Yes, GoFundMe is an option if I was dead serious on dragging these fuckers dicks through the dirt, but guys, honest to god, I'd rather that 20k-35k go to the following:

Keeping a roof over my head and food on the table until I have stable employment

Ensuring I can afford medical care for my disability, and afford new tests that I'm going to need for long-covid issues

Help me stay in my graduate courses/obtain my therapy licensure

Use it to help out other disabled folks in similar situations

I have closure that I was indeed wronged, that I did everything on my end to the best of my ability, and these dehumanizing assholes aren't going to rob anymore of my energy or time than they already have.

I have appointments to see if covid has fucked up or contributed to anything more serious that hasn't been addressed. I have a secondary PCP now cause of health concerns that have gotten worse. My fibromyalgia flares have been more chaotic since catching covid in January and I'm still figuring out what my new baseline is with that.

Spring Term of my graduate studies started last week, and I'm getting as much as I can done so I have more free time.

I am trying to find motivation to work my fanfics, drabbles, interacting, etc. It's been hard with everything.

My former employer is trying to get out of unemployment benefits and I've been battling that on top of the other stuff.

I need time to rest (like hibernate) and I haven't had the opportunity to do that.

Thank you again to everyone who has checked in on me, asked me how I've been, sent something positive, or donated. I'm sorry I haven't had the hit points to get to everyone individually, but I am trying and I am grateful for the compassion and appreciation.

If you still want to donate before my Ko-Fi shop is up, you can donate at these places:

PayPal: JayRex1463@yahoo.com

Kofi: KitchenRaptorJ

CashApp: $JayRex1463

If you don't have the means, that's a okay. Take care of yourself first.

If you want to send me comfort things (Ardyn Izunia, Higgs Monaghan, Karl Heisenberg, dinosaurs, dragons, etc.) like art, fanfic, etc. my way, that would be wonderful and I am open to that. I'm still open to a friendly hello or check in, just know I won't respond right away.

Now that all is said and done...

[matchamilkislover]

In The Darkest Corners, 3.

pairing: vi x fem!oc (y/n with a name)

warnings: mature themes, MINORS BEWARE, suggested violence, just general arcane-ness.

word count: 1,880

synopsis: after somehow successfully breaking back out of stillwater prison, olive still has a long ways to go with prisoner 516.

author’s note: originally published january 2023.

don’t forget to read parts 1 and 2 first!!

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

"Holy fucking shit."

Olive still couldn't believe they had done that. She'd done a lot of ballsy shit in the past year, but breaking into a prison and then breaking a prisoner out of said prison definitely took the cake.

"What? Never pulled a prison break before? Shocker," 516 retorted smugly. Olive rolled her eyes as she followed her towards the lanes, keeping up pace as best she could.

"You know, I still don't know your name," Olive remarked. "I can't just call you 516." As she spoke, she had a near miss with a pipe that apparently wanted her foot.

"Oh, you can call me anything you want," she replied with a devilish smirk. "But if you really want to know, my name is Vi." With a look back at Olive, Vi took one step forward off a ledge and dropped into an abyss of undercity. Olive stumbled to a stop, dumbstruck, unsure of whether to blindly follow or chalk it up to 'Vi' being crazy and call it a day. Except she couldn't do that - not if she didn't want to go back to square one.

Ugh.

Walking up to the ledge her companion had just stepped off of, Olive looked down and felt a wave of dizziness hit instantly. She had built up some skills over the last year, but this — this was damn near foolish. Regardless, today was apparently a day of firsts, and Olive wasn't about to lose it at the first drop.

She had to admit, the feeling she got when she let herself drop off of the high story roof was nothing short of exhilarating. She quickly tumbled onto the next level and raced after Vi, who was already quite a ways ahead of her. Olive refused to acknowledge her already aching muscles as she raced after the former prisoner, swinging across gaps and leaping off from story to story. After what felt like both forever and no time at all, they arrived at their destination.

The middle of the lanes.

Olive watched Vi breathe it in, staring at the smoke and neon lights littering the desolate streets like she had been waiting for this for forever. She watched her, entranced, until she realized what she was doing and shook it off. She can't afford to notice how attractive Vi was, not with what she would need to do, and especially because of her asshole persona — but she was undeniably attractive. Never mind that. Olive was pulled out of her thinking haze by Vi signaling Olive to follow her. Obliging, she jogged up to be next to her.

"Where are we going?" Olive asked, having to keep her fast pace to stay in step with the taller woman.

"Somewhere we can get a good start." Vi replied, looking back at her. "That is, if you can keep up." Olive rolled her eyes and muttered an insult under her breath, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she continued on with Vi. An awkward silence descended upon them and, desperate to at least not be completely miserable during this whole escapade, Olive spoke up.

"So, what does Vi stand for anyway? Vivian? Victoria? Vienna? Viola? Victor? Violence? Vi-"

"Violet." Vi cut her off abruptly. "It stands for Violet. But nobody's called me that since-...well, not for a long time. So don't get any ideas about it."

"Whatever you say, Vi-o-let," Olive replied cheekily, accentuating each syllable. Her breath was suddenly knocked out of her lungs when Vi grabbed her by the front of her shirt and roughly shoved her against a wall.

"I said, you don't get to call me that," she growled through gritted teeth, her face suddenly hardened and stony. "Got it?"

"Got it," Olive squeaked, taking a haggard breath when Vi decided she was appeased and let her go. "Do we have some sort of problem? If you keep grabbing me like that my shirt won't last the rest of the day." She glared at Vi from the side of her eyes, starting to regret whatever possessed her to break the brute out in the first place.

"No problem," Vi replied. "I just don't want you getting any ideas about us being 'friends' or anything. We're both only here to get what we want. No more, no less. Got it?"

Olive paused for a moment, caught off guard. "Got it. No friends."

The pair continued through the lanes until Vi came to a sudden stop in front of what looked like a particularly revolting food stand. The creature running the stand broke a huge, toothy smile when he noticed Vi walking up — did they seriously know each other? When she really thought about it, Olive wasn't all that surprised, but she still had a slight aversion to the smell wafting from the stand.

"Jericho, buddy! How's it been down here?" Vi exclaimed, a smile Olive hadn't seen before suddenly spreading across her face. Jericho replied with a series of grunts and gestured for them to sit down. Vi sat down instantly, Olive...apprehensively. She watched as 'Jericho' turned and started filling a bowl, seeing that when he set it in front of Vi that it was full of what looked like giant blue slug type creatures. Olive's lip curled up instinctively in disgust and had to hold back a gag. She watched as Vi gorged herself on the food, wondering how someone can eat something like that and still look hot. Impressive.

"I'm sorry, but are you going to question him or not?" Olive leaned over to whisper to Vi.

"No." Vi replied swiftly.

"But isn't that why we're here?" Olive asked, her voice rising slightly with urgency and confusion.

"We're here cause I'm hungry," Vi replied before stuffing her mouth again. "Oh, Jericho, this is better than I even remembered." She said in almost a moan as she finished off her bowl. Jericho grunted again and took the bowl, sliding a piece of paper towards Vi under one of his giant fingers in return. Vi shot Olive a knowing smirk and stood up without waiting for the other to follow.

"Where are we going now?" Olive asked as she and Vi traveled further through the undercity. Without a word, Vi flashed her the scrap of paper Jericho had given her. Olive's heart skipped a beat when she saw the symbol etched on it.

"The brothel??" Olive whispered harshly as she stepped in front of Vi and brought the both of them to a halt. "We can't. I-I won't do it, not if I don't need to."

"Shit, Olive, what the fuck are you doing?" Vi exclaimed, furrowing her brows. "Unless you don't want my or anyone else's help, we haven't exactly got another option. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine."

"You don't underst-" Olive cut herself off and took a breath. Not wanting to reveal too much about herself to someone like Vi, she continued. "Fine. But we need to be in and out."

"Whatever you need..." Vi replied sarcastically.

The two of them continued in silence until they arrived in front of the shambled building, which now seemed even more looming to Olive. Vi strode in confidently, which left Olive to linger behind until she forced herself to go in. The smell of smoke and sex filled her nostrils the way it had done so many times, and she felt like even the walls could see her.

"What information could I get from these people anyways? How?" She quietly wondered out loud to Vi, who slowed to face her.

"If you want people to talk to you, you have to convince them that you have what they want," Vi replied with a smirk.

"And what do I have?"

Vi circled around her, looking her up and down. "You're hot, cupcake." She suddenly moved in closer, forcing Olive against the wall and raising one hand to block her right next to her face. "All you have to do is choose — man, or woman?" Her eyes were dark with an intoxicating look, staring so deeply into Olive that she felt like she might melt.

"Right. Got it," Olive said breathlessly, still unable to tear her eyes away from Vi's. The taller pulled away slowly and smirked before she continued down the barely lit hallway. Olive straightened up and tried to swing her hips alluringly as she followed. At the end of the hallway, they came upon a door that Vi knocked on twice. When it opened, it revealed a small elfish woman that Olive often wished she didn't recognize.

"Vi," the woman said, gasping and putting down her teacup. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Hello, Babette," Vi replied as she slowly entered the room. Olive truly started to question her own decision making abilities as she followed.

"And Miss Whitlock," she continued with a hint of surprise in her voice, taking a long drag of her cigarette. "I do hope you've come by to tell me you've had a change of heart...you'd be so popular with the patrons." Babette raised her eyebrows as she looked at Olive expectantly.

"Sorry, but no, Babette," Olive sputtered nervously, avoiding Vi's suspecting gaze.

"Oh come now," the small woman continued. "Think about the earnings you would bring in. You'd just have to let yourself go a little bit."

"I said no, Babette." Olive stood awkwardly for a moment before turning around and walking out of the room, the silence booming in her ears. If she was going to be stuck in the brothel until Vi finished up business, she might as well try and do what she said.

Shit, was she going to hate this.

She strutted through the hall until she found a rather lovely looking woman in a fox mask.

"Hello," she said in what she hoped was a seductive voice. "I'm Amryn, love. What's your name?"

—

Vi sauntered down the hall with a new air of confidence. She knew who to find and where to find them — but first, she had to find Olive. A few doors down, she could hear her silky voice floating out of a room, along with someone else's. Approaching closer, she saw just who she was looking for, but not in the way she expected. Olive was draped across a chaise longue with one hand up, playing with a strand of hair. She had a sultry smile on her face, and was now listening to a woman in a fox mask talk about something or other. Not that Vi was listening — she was distracted watching Olive's suddenly intoxicating features. Shaking herself out of it, she stood fully in the doorway and leaned on the frame, crossing her arms casually.

"I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation, but I'm afraid we've got to go, Cupcake."

[ooc-miqojak]

I live by this motto, and embraced it when I had barely a dollar to my name, working minimum wage non-stop at Macy's in a tiny mall in a tiny southern town in Florida - using a borrowed crap-bucket truck that couldn't even properly tell me how much gas I had (I got stuck once after running out of gas), and eventually the whole axle snapped, ha! I just scraped up $10-20 every paycheck and set it aside and saved and saved to get to the point where I could afford that ticket, after someone gave me this very advice. Why not work for that new life and take that chance? I'd been in the south my whole life, and wanted out.

In the end, I only stayed a year in L.A., doing volunteer work, and moved somewhere with cheaper cost of living afterwards - but every time I see this post, it steams my hams. You don't have to be rich to take a chance - you just have to plan ahead. Make sure you have a safety net of some kind. No one is saying to drop a billion dollars you don't have on a new life - but taking a chance doesn't mean you're rich. I saved for a ticket to L.A. to go live in a former convent (that had no a/c in 100+ degree weather) with 6 other volunteers in my program and got a tiny stipend bi-weekly that just barely covered food and rent while helping underprivileged kids - I wasn't wealthy by any means, but I had the guarantee of work and a roof over my head, and had an experience I'll forever cherish... because a stranger told me to take that chance - and if I hadn't, I wouldn't have eventually had to leave L.A. I wouldn't have then met my current partner of ten years, and ended up in one of America's most progressive states/one of the safest states for queer folk in the U.S. right now - I'd still be in Florida, and things aren't looking so good out there right now. I wouldn't have 2/3 of my cats that I love dearly, either.

I'm glad my broke ass got that ticket, took some calculated risks, and kicked off a chain of events that wasn't always easy or pleasant - but the path led me to where I eventually needed to be.