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cadyrocks · 2 years ago

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I'm more than slightly perplexed by... Well, most of this. And why you're treating it like a normal, good-faith argument.

Like, I'm sorry, 2+2=4 is racist? What? The absolute most charitable read I can offer on this is that it's several steps of Conservative Outrage Telephone away from any actual statement made by any actual human being. Which is exactly what happened. A teacher brought up that math isn't somehow politically neutral and can be used as a club, and pointed to the whole 2+2=4 thing not as a false statement, but as the kind of thing people unwilling to accept problems of bigotry in the field bring out as a semantic stopper to shut down any evidence of problems.

The Washington Examiner picked this up and ran with the headline, "Math professor claims equation 2+2=4 'reeks of white supremacist patriarchy'". It was then morphed through the online right-wing outrage machine to mean "leftists think 2+2=4 is racist" - which, to be fair, is darkly funny given the original context, but is nowhere near an actual position held by an actual person and the kind of uncharitable garbage that should make anyone pause and say, "hey, wait a minute, that doesn't sound right". Like, shouldn't the fact that this stance is fundamentally incompatible with industrial society make you pause and say, "hey, wait a minute, that doesn't sound right" and investigate further? It sounds like outrage-mongering, the kind of thing that's just too absurd to be true (because it isn't true).

Or how about that LA Times article? "Fascist" is a strong term. What's it actually about?

So I couldn’t help but consider my own complicity while reading a new study from USC researchers, finding that Angelenos who drive more tend to be exposed to less air pollution — and Angelenos who drive less tend to be exposed to more pollution.

It may sound like a paradox, but it’s not. It’s a function of the racism that shaped this city and its suburbs, and continues to influence our daily lives — and a stark reminder of the need for climate solutions that benefit everyone.

This really isn't that complicated, and reading the article explains the somewhat inflammatory headline.

He told me it largely comes down to the shameful history of Los Angeles County’s low-income communities of color being torn apart to make way for freeways — a history that has been extensively documented by The Times. Today, many residents of the county’s whiter, more affluent neighborhoods — who were often able to keep highways out of their own backyards — commute to work through lower-income Black and Latino neighborhoods bisected by the 10, 110 and 105 freeways and more.

Did you ever read the article, or did you just read the numerous right-wing outrage clickbait pieces about how racist the headline is? Because it makes perfect sense if you know about the ways systemic racism shaped our cities and suburbs.

Also the author of this piece? Not a politician. Not a policymaker. Not connected to the democratic party in any notable way. So why are you attributing this article's clickbait headline to the democrats? (Answer: because finding a similar statement from democratic politicians is hard, and pretending that they are represented by every newspaper article printed in any mainstream newspaper makes for much better outrage fodder.)

It's bullshit all the way down.

This is the thing I keep taking away from seemingly "rational" attempts to make the democrats seem fascist or racist or worse than the republicans - there's a whole bunch of really dishonest shit, taken out of context mostly from people with very little political power, completely disconnected from anything resembling actual policymaking. It is weaponized nonsense. The Chris Rufo school of politics.

(And yeah, the"merit is racist" shit is just another example; intentionally twisting "the society we live in claims to be meritocratic but is in reality deeply classist, racist, and patriarchal and therefore falls short of its ideals" into "the concept of merit is racist". It's easy to make this mistake if you don't bother reading what the left actually says.)

Meanwhile, on the whole "fascism" subject, let's check in on what Florida republicans are doing. Well, they've proposed laws that would enable the death penalty for sex crimes against minors, and a law that would allow juries to suggest the death penalty for such crimes with an 8-4 jury. This is the same party that continues to insist that trans people existing near their children is "grooming", and that loudly proclaim their desire to eliminate transgenderism. They are not being subtle about what they want. They want people like me closeted or dead. These are just a small fraction of the absolute deluge of anti-trans bills being passed around the country.

So you'll have to excuse me if the anti-white "racism" (read: fairly token attempts to compensate for the effects of generations of ongoing white supremacy) of the democratic party doesn't leave me up at night.

No cishet white man in the US is anxiously reading news headlines and thinking, "if this law passes, what's the best way I can flee my state?".

Unlike every single trans person in Texas and Florida. And Tennessee. And Iowa. And many more.

I feel like I'm giving this person too much benefit of the doubt here. None of this stuff is hard to look up, and it shouldn't be hard to look at an absurd statement like "2+2=4 is racist" and think, "hang on, that doesn't sound right". It took me 30 seconds of cursory googling to find the source on that claim, and the right-wing outlets that twisted it. Looking through their blog, I can say with confidence that they have no idea what the people they're so angry about actually say, mean, or believe, because it's all filtered through this haze of intentional bad faith wherein somehow the democratic party has a staunch anti-white wing. My dude. You are actually delusional. You are literally on a level with the "great replacement" folks.

And there are so many things to criticize the Dems for (like their slavish devotion to increasing police budgets, or how they're continuing Trump's vicious work at the border). But you're instead criticizing half-misremembered right-wing garbage, filtered through several news outlets whose entire job is to give you the least charitable take possible for anything they disagree with.

Meanwhile, a rogue Texas judge pushed a lawless, meritless lawsuit that would apply a nationwide ban on abortion all the way to the supreme court. Trans people and ob-gyns are fleeing red states as their existence and practice, respectively, becomes increasingly criminalized. Conservatives are loudly grumbling about how gay marriage and no-fault divorce should be the next things to go, and some red states are passing laws allowing for child labor. A teacher in Iowa was told that it would not be appropriate for him to teach his students that slavery was a bad thing. Book bannings are on the rise, with right-wing pressure groups terrorizing school districts that have books that discuss racism or queerness. And, not to beat a horse that has at this point been fully processed into mince, but there was that whole January 6th coup attempt, and the continued baseless insistence from many right-wingers that the 2020 election was stolen.

But hey, someone who's vaguely leftist once said we need to eliminate whiteness, and you took that to mean "kill all the white people" rather than actually finding out what it means. I'm sure it's just a coincidence that what you picked up from that was "white genocide".

Since middle school, basically since I've been able to read and think, the idea that American jurisprudence is somehow based on, or the same as, the ten commandments has been obviously absurd to me.

The very first amendment to the constitution was designed to ensure that the first commandment not only wasn't, but could never be a law in America.

I've been thinking about this in the context of so-called Christian Nationalism, which is a grotesque practice that involves murdering Christianity and Nationalism, skinning the corpses, and parading around in the rotting skin while pointing guns at everyone and demanding that they loudly announce how healthy their old friends look.

Like, it really is a deeply, profoundly blasphemous ideology, but also, here in America if you're a Christian Nationalist you must believe that the very principles on which the nation was founded were mistakes, that the first amendment sent this nation down the wrong path from the very moment it was founded and that the entire history of American law and jurisprudence should be dynamited and replaced with something profoundly at odds with the constitution and even the declaration of independence.

Which, sure, okay, there's lots of people who wonder why we ought to listen to a bunch of dead white slave owners, but like, they don't usually also talk about how much they love those dead white slave owners and how everyone else should love them as well.

#self indulgent discourse #fascism #racism

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okaynicolette · 4 years ago

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Lunch Between Friends - Liam x Jacob

Jacob pulled up to the lunch restaurant, unsure if he had the right place or not. It seemed rather crowded and also rather pink. After he found parking, which was not an easy task due to the Saturday brunch crowd of locals and tourists alike, he checked his messages from Liam again. Yep, this was indeed the right place. Jacob sighed, why couldn’t Liam be happy with just meeting up at a more adult restaurant, rather than something he read about in some food blog, he thought rather discontentedly. Walking to the front of the restaurant, which had bright pink umbrellas shading the sidewalk tables, he saw Liam leaning up against the gold and black painted wall (which was no doubt intended to be a tourist photo op). Jacob gave a light wave to his friend as he walked up, hoping that Liam was actually looking at him behind the dark aviator sunglasses he donned.

Liam arrived early to put his name down, knowing that this restaurant would be crowded at this time of day. It was a popular brunch and burger spot in Venice Beach and it was constantly full of trendy LA millennials– so of course, Liam loved it. Though it was a Saturday, he couldn’t help but check his work email while he waited for Jacob to arrive. He didn’t become one of the most sought after CFPs at his firm by taking weekends off, after all. Just as he sent one final email, he looked up and noticed Jacob walking towards him. Liam gave a head nod of greetings and said, “I put our name in with the host about 20 minutes ago, should be any time now.”

Jacob was thankful that Liam arrived early to put their name in– neither of them were very patient people, but Liam tended to be the more proactive one. Jacob would likely just suffer and complain. The two of them were roommates at USC for the last two years of school, so they knew each other very well. Nowadays, they tried to hang out as often as they could, but things got difficult since Jacob got his girlfriend pregnant right after his graduation. Liam was finishing school then climbing the corporate ladder at his job, while Jacob was learning how to be a father. Liam did his best to be a good uncle though, and Jacob was glad for that as an only child himself– his son, Isaiah, loved his Uncle Liam. From the time Isaiah was born until he was around six, Jacob and Isaiah’s mom, Aidy, lived together and had a fairly normal life. That was until about a year ago. Out of the blue, Aidy decided that she was disappointed she missed out on so much of her life and needed to “experience more”, which was apparently code for “sleep with other people”. They did their best, tried counseling for a few months, but eventually decided to go their separate ways. Jacob originally thought it would be easy because they weren’t married, but they both wanted full custody of Isaiah. The custody battle dragged on for months, when finally, in January, the court decided that they would have joint custody, with Isaiah going back and forth every two weeks. Jacob wasn’t taking it very well, though he tried to put on a good face for his son. He was grateful when Liam called to invite him on a spur of the moment trip, because it felt a little bit like old times.

Moments later, the host called to seat them and they headed into the restaurant. The inside carried the same millennial aesthetic as the outside with mismatched colorful vintage furniture and gold mirrors and picture frames lining the walls. Jacob found quiet solace in the fact that Liam had good taste in food, which meant this whole Instagram-trap might be worth it. Once they were seated, Liam asked, “So did you book your flights?” He rarely beat around the bush, especially when he was nervous or eager. Something in his tone told Jacob that it was a bit of both.

“Yeah, I got them for the dates you told me and let Aidy know– not that she cared very much since it doesn’t affect her or Isaiah,” Jacob replied, unintentionally sounding bitter at the end of the statement. He was bitter, but he didn’t like showing it, even if it was just to Liam. “So, are we wedding crashing?” He asked before picking up the menu to try and find a decent lunch.

Liam laughed, idly skimming the offerings, even though he had already checked and double checked the menu before even deciding that this was the place they would be eating at. “I don’t know yet. I told you, it’s going to be a surprise for Nik– she doesn’t know I’m coming at all,” he replied, with a facade of excitement. Inside, he was beginning to worry about whether or not this was a good idea. Hoping that Jacob would have good advice, he asked, “Do you think I should tell her? I mean, I’m trying to be romantic and all that.”

Jacob was trying to read through the very long burger menu and make a decision about lunch, but everything sounded amazing since he accidentally skipped breakfast. “I mean if you want to be romantic, then showing up to surprise her at her best friend’s wedding is definitely that. It sounds like a fucking rom-com, for god’s sake,” he said, barely looking up. In all honesty, Jacob felt like the last person who should be giving advice on that sort of thing. He had been with one woman seriously for the last seven years and she had all but shattered his heart.

Liam sighed, setting down his menu. It was rare for him to let his guard down, but Jacob had seen him at his worst, so there was no image to uphold. “My friend from work, Riley, said that Maids of Honor usually have a lot of responsibilities. Do you think I’ll just be distracting her? Oh, and also the bride thinks I’m a dick, so that’s not great either,” he said, rather frustratedly.

Jacob decided on his food and set down his menu to face his friend. “Well I don’t know very much about weddings,” he began, again subtly playing the sad-heartbroken card, “but, like I said– it sounds like a rom-com. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the grand gesture and it’ll be fine. Also, you didn’t tell me Nikki’s best friend doesn’t like you!” He laughed a little bit, giving Liam a hard time. His attitude did rub people the wrong way sometimes, but that usually just meant they hadn’t taken the time to get to know him well.

Liam rolled his eyes as the waitress arrived to take their orders. Once she took their menus and left, he began, “She thinks I’m too showy or something. I get it, but like– she hated me from the jump, so what am I supposed to do?” He shrugged.

Jacob smirked, “Lease a Subaru, move to Arcadia, and become a high school guidance counselor, obviously.” The sarcastic response elicited a genuine laugh from both men. “Kidding, but who knows– This trip might show her friend that you’re serious about the relationship and she’ll get off your back,” he nodded, optimistically as the waitress dropped off their drinks.

“Damn, I never even thought of that,” said Liam pensively, realizing that Jacob had made a very good point. He was now somewhat reassured in his plan to go on the trip. “So how are you doing, man? I know these past few months have been shit,” he said somberly, genuinely feeling for his friend. Though Liam didn’t have any desires to be a father in the near future, he did love Isaiah like a real nephew, and was really disappointed to see how things turned out. He had even helped Jacob get a lawyer through his parents, but it was no use.

Jacob raised his eyebrows and sighed before responding. “It’s fucking lonely, dude. Like how do people our age even meet other people? I’ve gone out a few times with people from work, but bars and clubs… I’m just so not used to that scene anymore,” he shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you tried dating apps?” Liam asked, unsure of what to say to his grieving friend. Emotions weren’t his strong suit, but he was trying his best.

“If one more person asks me that, I think I’ll explode on the spot.” Liam said sharply. Just that morning, his mother had asked the same thing over the phone. Apparently it was time for him to get back out there again, or something.

Liam raised his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, so no dating apps,” he resigned. “Well, weddings are a great place to meet people. Who knows– maybe we do score some invites and you meet someone there!” He said, trying to cheer his friend up. Just then, the waitress brought by their meals and topped up their drinks. “And if you don’t meet anyone, then I can always take you out. If you want to, that is,” he nodded, unfolding his napkin and setting it on his lap.

“I don’t feel a particular need to meet anyone, has anyone ever considered that?” Jacob muttered, following Liam’s lead and placing his napkin on his lap.

“You just said you were lonely, J. Even if it’s just a friend you meet, that would help! I know you have me, but it would be nice to have other people you can lean on right now and whenever, you know?” Liam explained before beginning to eat.

“I have friends!” Jacob said incredulously. “I have… Aidy?” He offered sheepishly, realizing that his social circle had been pretty nonexistent these days.

��Your baby-mama who you just got out of a five-month-long custody battle with? That’s your other friend? You might need this trip more than me, dude.” He chuckled and shook his head as he took another bite.

“Ew, God. Don’t call her that.” Jacob rolled his eyes, “But fine. I guess I do need to get out more. This trip will be good for that. And even if Nikki is super busy, the two of us can still go out and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, of course! It’ll be like a revival of the good old days– an Apartment 121 Renaissance!” Liam said excitedly, lifting his glass as if making a toast. Jacob laughed and lifted his glass to touch his friend’s. Their glasses clinked and Jacob felt slightly less hopeless than he had while he was driving in.

#para #liam x jacob

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tsarinastorm · 5 years ago

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Feel Again-Charlie Barber/Reader-Chapter 1

You could feel the sunlight shining through the windows of the bookstore you were browsing through. It was a small, independent bookstore that had a mini café, showcased local authors and had writer’s events, it was the kind of bookstore that was hard to come across. It reminded you of the local bookstore back home that was your favorite, and this place in Los Angeles made it almost feel like home. You were a new transport to the city of angels, the decision to move was both easy and difficult. Your first book, a memoir, was well-received and made into a film whose screenplay you helped write. Your first novel was successful, and was now being made into a television series by a streaming service. When the producers ask you to be a consult on the series, you decided to move to LA and make a new life. You also taught seminars on writing and history at USC. You loved the warm weather, it was perfect for you to start your own little garden at the bungalow you were leasing, plus your dog, Freckles, loved having a yard.

You browse the aisles and you grab a Russian history book before grabbing Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, a copy of Marina Carr’s latest play, and a couple new releases. On your way to the registers, you see a tall, handsome man with a pile of books head in the same direction. Your eyes meet and it gives you butterflies, it was the kind of thing writers write about but you had never experienced in real life before. You take a good look at him and notice he’s everything you find attractive in a man: tall, broad-shouldered with dark, thick hair, well-dressed, and obviously he has good taste for bookstores. He’s not wearing a wedding band either, you’re sure to make a mental note of that.

“Marina Carr is a brilliant playwright, one of the best of modern day.” He says, pointing towards the pile of books you’re carrying and he steps forward to the register. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and compose yourself before saying, “She’s one of my favorite writers. I’ve never actually seen any of her plays performed though.”

“There’s nothing like seeing a play being performed. I’m a theater director so I might be biased.” He chuckles and smiles at you. You can’t help but smile back at him, you respond with, “Well I’m a writer so I have a bias in favor of printed word.”

“Can’t argue with that, what do you write?” The man asks and you tell him that you’ve wrote a memoir, a novel, and are now writing screenplays. He goes to introduce himself, but his phone rings and he has to answer. He turns and says a few words hurriedly into the phone before turning back. He then says to you, “I’m sorry but I’ve got to get to work, it was really nice talking to you, I hope I’ll see you again.” He extends his hand to you and you take it. You notice that even though it was brief that his hand was warm and much larger than yours. You smile, nod, and watch him walk out of the store.

You wonder if he’s a regular here, and then you begin to calculate how often you can make the trip to this bookstore. Maybe you should stop in more, and hopefully see him another time. You were intrigued and wanted to know more about him. But this was a big city, full of people moving in their own directions and it was more likely than not that you would never see him again.

*********************************************************

It’s been a week since your encounter with the attractive, mystery man at the bookstore, and now you were on the other coast. Your former sorority sister, Blair, lived in NYC and convinced you to come visit her for the weekend. The two of you were now crammed in her small bathroom, trying to put on your makeup for the night while fitting in as much girl talk as possible. She was an off-Broadway actress, and you two were going out with some of her theater people. You had met several of them before when you were visiting and you looked forward to seeing them again. But you always felt sort of out of place with them because you weren’t a theater person and didn’t understand all of the inside jokes.

The bar is already buzzing and you love the vintage, art deco style that exudes from the place. Blair is talking to a couple of people that she knows. She’s introduced to several of them, but you decide that it’s time to get a drink so you saunter off towards the bar. The man sitting there looks vaguely familiar but you can’t place him, until you’ve taken your seat, and given your order which makes him turn to look at you. Wow, it’s the mystery man or his doppelganger. He’s pretty unique looking so you figure it has to be him. Then it hits you, it is definitely the mystery man from Chevalier books with his signature style. You wonder: how did you possibly run into him again on the other side of the country? You can tell by the look on his face that he recognizes you at the same time, before breaking the silence.

“You’re the writer from Chevalier books, I can’t believe I’ve ran into you again, and in New York of all places.” He says and stands up to move closer to you. You can’t help but follow suit and stand with your drink and take a step near him so you’re within a few feet of him. Trying not to be distracted by his freckles and hair that looks soft, instead, you smile and comment back, “You know what they say about a small world. I’m here visiting an old friend, what about you?”

“I actually just moved to LA fulltime from New York, I’ve spent the past year commuting. I’m Charlie, Charlie Barber, and I regretted not getting your name last time I saw you.” He sticks out his hand to you, you take it then you nod your head for him to follow you. You sit together in the booth near where Blair is still chatting away. She notices you walk through and raises her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“I’m Y/N L/N, and I moved to LA only a few months ago. I had been commuting for a while then I decided I liked it well enough to live there fulltime. You do definitely strike me as a New York guy though.” You take a large sip of your drink, but you’re really feeling intoxicated by Charlie. There is something about that man that’s making you lose your head already. You were doomed, you knew it.

“This place was my life for so long. You don’t strike me as an LA girl or as a New York girl either.” He says and you hear the pang of sadness in his voice during the first sentence, for a theater director New York is the dream place to be, it must have been difficult for him to move. You’re curious what made him decide to leave the city he obviously loves, but you’ll save that question for later.

“I’m from a really small town in rural America, but I’ve spent the past few years travelling abroad while writing.” You’re used to explaining your accent, and you feel like you don’t really belong in any city. The two of you have moved closer to each other in the booth to where your sides are practically touching. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and you take notice of his plump lips that look perfect for kissing. He leans in closer to you and his honey brown eyes watch yours.

“Where was your favorite place?”

“London has always been my favorite. I loved the architecture and culture of Florence,” you say as Blair and some of her friends join you at the booth. Charlie’s arm brushes against yours, and your leg tucks underneath his.

“Hi Charlie, hi Y/N. So do you guys know each other or did you just now meet?” Blair asks and you realize that Blair already knows Charlie. Of course she does as it hits you that they would have the connection in the theater world. Charlie answers her question, “We bumped into each other in a bookstore in LA, and then we were surprised to find each other here.”

“Hmm maybe it’s fate or the universe.” Blair says bluntly and you almost choke on your drink. Charlie eyes you and smiles so you smile back. It might actually be fate, you think. Not that you were sure you believed in fate though. You notice a brunette that joined your table is giving a major side eye, to the point that it’s nearly a flat-out glare. You think her name is Mary Ann but you can’t remember for sure. You and Charlie continue your semi-private conversation, oblivious to the people around you.

“I ended up moving to LA for business reasons, to work on some screenplays. What about you?” You ask because you want to know what made him leave New York. You could also sense there was more underneath that he was leaving out. He had no obligation to tell you anything but you wanted to know everything about him.

“My son. My now ex-wife is an actress who unilaterally decided to just leave New York permanently for LA and take our son with her. After all that commuting for a year, I realized I needed to be there for Henry, so I took a residency at UCLA and got in with a well-respected theater company.” He grips his drink when he says that and you can tell it’s still a sore subject.

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s awful. I’m sure your son will appreciate your sacrifices when he gets older, and I’m sure it’s always worth it to put time in for your kid. When I was still practicing law, I would see all these couples tear each other apart to the point they ignored what they were putting their kid through.” You try to comfort him, and you admire his dedication to his son. You couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to divorce him.

“Henry just turned nine, any time with him is well worth it. Nicole and I tried to keep civil then it got nasty fast, and now we’ve cycled back where we co-parent effectively. You’re a lawyer too?” He asks you as his hand purposefully brushes yours. Your pinky reaches to hold onto his and he smiles at you while his eyes bore into yours.

“Regrettably, I graduated law school even though I knew it wasn’t for me, then I practiced for a brief time. I eventually accepted that it was draining me and making me miserable so I pursued writing, what I really wanted to do, and got my master’s in history.” You tell him and you just then notice that the two of you are alone in the booth again.

The two of you chat throughout the night about favorite books, movies, plays. You laugh as you watch the rest of your group participate in karaoke. Then they urge Charlie onstage, and you push him playfully in encouragement. He relents and goes. You can’t believe his voice, it’s beautiful and he remains eye contact with you during the entire song. You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Can I get your number? It haunted me that I didn’t that day at the bookstore.” Charlie says as you come to a stop outside the bar. Blair is waiting for you but giving you space and privacy. It’s relieving to know he feels the same way. Your hand intertwines with his, and you respond smiling.

“Of course. The haunting went both ways.” He hands you his phone so you can add your number. You hand it back to him, and his hand goes around your waist, while yours grip his bicep.

“When we’re both in LA, can I take you out for dinner?” He asks innocently and you start nodding your head yes, and you’re certain you must look like a dashboard bobble head.

“Oh like a date?” You question incredulously. His hand rubs small circle on your waist and it feels electric. Damn, you’re already in too deep. You might as well write ‘sucker’ on your forehead, but you control yourself and try not to sound too eager.

“Yeah like a date, unless you don’t want it to be a date.” He looks like he’s hopeful, but he’s clearly questioning himself. He wants to give you a chance to back out and let you pace the relationship. If he only knew how into him you already were.

“No a date sounds fantastic. I really like you, and I had fun tonight.” You say and find yourself drifting even closer to him, if that was possible.

“Oh yeah? Good because I really like you too.” Then his hand cups your face ever so slowly and he descends his lips on yours. His lips are warm and soft against yours, your hands find their way to his chest then up around his neck. His tongue licks your bottom lip requesting entrance, which you give. You devour each other like you’ve been starving. Then, you both return to reality grinning as you slowly separate. You each are wearing a guilty-grin as go your separate ways for now.

***************************************************************

This was your third official date with Charlie, and everything felt right. Your first date was dinner at an Italian place with drinks afterward at bar with rooftop terrace. The next morning, you grabbed breakfast and coffee together before heading to work. The second date was a picnic in the park, then exploring an outdoor art exhibit, and the next day you met for lunch. Tonight you went to see an Ibsen play and out for desserts. The two of you spent most of your time together talking about everything, and the dates would last for hours. He would talk about Henry, his previous marriage, and his upcoming play. You would talk about your books, screenplays, and your dogs. You had so much in common, it was crazy, but you also were different enough to keep it interesting. You could see it growing into love and becoming a long-term relationship. You were now walking back to his car, holding hands.

“Wow. I didn’t know if I could feel like this. I feel like the world is spinning, but in the best way. You know how in the summer when you first get in the car and you can feel the warmth, that’s how I feel when I’m with you.” You admit and you know it sounds cheesy. Before you really get to gauge his reaction, his lips are on yours, desperately as his hands wrap around your waist. He’s pulling you flush against him and you can feel both his heart pounding and his growing bulge against you. And fuck, he already feels big, but it would only make sense that he be proportionate. He stares into your eyes with his amber ones and tells you, “I never thought I could feel this way again, but here I am. I’m crazy for you.” You crash your mouth to his again, pulling him close, and you move your hips against his bulge.

“You don’t have Henry this weekend, right?” You ask as you pant for air, pulling away from him briefly. He looks at you quizzically, trying to understand why you brought that up at this moment. Oh sweet, Charlie. You were going to take him home tonight and wreck him, but he thought you were meaning something else. You had wanted to bed him ever since that night in New York but you didn’t want to rush things or cheapen your connection. You had even wore a sexier dress tonight, had lace lingerie on underneath, and had a recent wax appointment. He answers, “No, not this weekend. What’s up?”

“Good, you can stay at my place tonight then,” you chuckle and you watch as what you said clicks in his head. He leans and gives you a steamy kiss right under your ear, and he works his way down your neck. You can feel the heat gathering in your belly from just that, and you’re starting to get wet so you rub your thighs together desperately.

You pull away from him only so you could get to his car. Driving to your place, Charlie placed his hand on your knee and you wrapped your hand around his, though you wanted nothing more than to move it upward between your legs, but you held yourself back. You could tell he was just as excited and eager as you were because he was hard already and his driving was faster than normal. Your eyes kept catching his and you were practically eye-fucking. Upon arrival in your driveway, he rushes out to open the car door for you.

You step out and you both fast-walk towards your door. While you fumble with the keys, Charlie steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as your back is pressed into his chest. That’s certainly not helping your concentration. His hand creeps up so it’s under your breast, and his fingers trace your ribs. To make matters worse, his lips attach to your neck again and you can’t suppress the moan that comes out of your lips. You want to throw your head back and rock into him, but you need to get inside the bungalow first then he can fuck against the door or on the floor for all you care. You finally turn the key in the door and the instant you and Charlie step through the frame, you’re on each other.

#charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #adam driver

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 5 years ago

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THE CARCERAL CITY All this airborne surveillance and engridding, endless police data-gathering and centralization of communications, constitutes an invisible 'Haussmannization' of Los Angeles. No need to clear fields of fire for cannon when you control the sky; less need to hire informers on every block when surveillance cameras are universal ornaments on every building. But the police also reorganize space in far more straightforward ways. We have already seen their growing role as Downtown urban designers, indispensable for their expertise in 'security'. But they also lobby incessantly to enlarge law-and-order land use: additional warehouse space for a burgeoning inmate population, and administrative-training facilities for themselves. In Los Angeles this has taken the form of a de facto urban renewal program, operated by the police agencies, that threatens to convert an entire salient of Downtown-East Los Angeles into a vast penal colony.

Nearly 25,000 prisoners are presently held in six severely overcrowded county and federal facilities - not including Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) detention centers - within a three-mile radius of City Hall - the largest incarcerated population in the nation. Racing to meet the challenge of the current 'War on Drugs' (which will double detained populations within the decade), authorities are forging ahead with the construction of a new state prison in East Los Angeles as well as a giant expansion of the County Jail near Chinatown. Both projects are vigorously contested by community coalitions opposed to further dumping of jail space in the inner city. Yet at the same time agenCies like the Bureau of Prisons and County Jail, together with the innumerable private security companies, have become major community employers in the wake of plant closures and deindustrialization in East Los Angeles during the 1970s and early 1980s. Jails now vie with County/USC Hospital as the single most important economic force on the Eastside.

The conflict of interest between community and law enforcement land use is also sharply focused on the fate of Elysian Park, the home of Dodger Stadium and the Police Academy. Consisting of steep hillsides and ravines immediately northwest of the original El Pueblo de Los Angeles, Elysian Park was once upon a time a prime tourist attraction, one of the foremost 'City Beautiful' parks in the country. Through an extraordinary circumvention of local government, the police department has managed to turn its occupancy of the 1932 Olympic pistol range (under temporary lease to the Police Athletic and Gun Club) into an occupation of the entire park. Although lawyers for 'Friends of Elysian Park' were able to prove that the development of the Police Academy was an unauthorized, even illegal appropriation of public land, the LAPD cowed the City Council into ratifying the status quo. Then in 1989 fine print attached to a larger police bond issue, fueled by the gang and drug crisis, provided authority and funds for the three-fold expansion of the Academy in the park. To suggest an analogy, it is almost as if the San Francisco police were to occupy Golden Gate Park or the New York Police Department to commandeer half of Central Park.

The INS, meanwhile, has been trying to shoehorn privatized 'microprisons' into unsuspecting inner-city neighborhoods. Facing record overcrowding in its normal facilities, La Migra has commandeered motels and apartments for operation by private contractors as auxiliary jails for detained aliens - many of them Chinese and Central Americans seeking asylum. The disclosure of one of these centers caused a community uproar in Hollywood in 1986, and again in early 1990 in the MacArthur Park neighborhood after an audacious escape by eight female detainees led by a Chinese political dissident. The women claimed that the detention center (an anonymous, barred storefront on the area's main shopping street) lacked basic hygiene and that male guards spent the night in the women's cells.

The demand for law enforcement lebensraum in the central city, however, will inevitably bring the police agencies into conflict with more than mere community groups. Already the plan to add two highrise towers, with 2,400 new beds, to County Jail on Bauchet Street downtown has raised the ire of planners and developers hoping to make nearby Union Station the center of a giant complex of skyscraper hotels and offices. If the jail expansion goes ahead, tourists and prisoners could end up ogling one another from opposed highrises. One solution to the conflict between carceral and commercial redevelopment is to use architectural camouflage to finesse jail space into the skyscape. If buildings and homes are becoming more prison- or fortress-like in exterior appearance, then prisons ironically are becoming architecturally naturalized as aesthetic objects. Moreover, with the post-liberal shift of government expenditure from welfare to repression, carceral structures have become the new frontier of public architecture. As an office glut in most parts of the country reduces commissions for corporate highrises, celebrity architects are rushing to design jails, prisons, and police stations.

An extraordinary example, the flagship of an emerging genre, is Welton Becket Associates' new Metropolitan Detention Center in Downtown Los Angeles, on the edge of the Civic Center and the Hollywood Freeway. Although this ten-story Federal Bureau of Prison's facility is one of the most visible new structures in the city, few of the hundreds of thousands of commuters who pass it by every day have any inkling of its function as a holding and transfer center for what has been officially described as the 'managerial elite of narco-terrorism'. Here, 70 per cent of federal incarcerations are related to the 'War on Drugs'. This postmodern Bastille - the largest prison built in a major US urban center in generations - looks instead like a futuristic hotel or office block, with artistic charms like the high-tech trellises on its bridge-balconies) comparable to any of Downtown's recent architecture. But its upscale ambience is more than mere facade. The interior of the prison is designed to implement a sophisticated program of psychological manipulation and control: barless windows, a pastel color plan, prison staff in preppy blazers, well-tended patio shubbery, a hotel-type reception area, nine recreation areas with nautilus workout equipment, and so on

In contrast to the human inferno of the desperately overcrowded County Jail a few blocks away, the Becket structure superficially appears less a detention than a convention center for federal felons - a 'distinguished' addition to Downtown's continuum of security and design. But the psychic cost of so much attention to prison aesthetics is insidious. As one inmate whispered to me in the course of a tour, 'Can you imagine the mindfuck of being locked up in a Holiday Inn?'” - Mike Davis, City of Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles. Photographs by Robert Morrow. New York: Vintage, 1992. pp. 255-257..

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rulesofthebeneath · 6 years ago

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how bout a dance: part 1

<AN> Ok... so this is the Bullshit. It’s a bit of a departure from what I normally write, but I had this idea and it kinda got stuck in my head, and with the help of @euphonyinestetica and @ajaysbhandari it kinda came to life. It’s basically a post-college ajay x mc au, where basically they broke up when he went to college and now, well... you’ll have to read to find out. I’m really excited to share this all with you guys. Projecting a total of 13 parts, major OC usage. Please please let me know what you think, Feedback is Life. Crediting: @euphonyinestetica as cowriter and fierce editor. Tagging: @pixelburied, @witchiegirl, @lilmissperfectlyimperfect, @anlashokk, @itsbrindleybinch. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! </AN>

The cold March wind blew Grace’s hair across her face, temporarily blinding her. She sighed with thinly veiled exasperation and reached up to fumble it into a messy ponytail with numb fingers. She hitched her scarf up to cover her exposed neck and buried her nose into it, trying to shield herself from the cold. Continuing along 43rd Street, her chapped hands made their way back into her coat pockets. She cursed her Brooklyn apartment for being so far away, she cursed the six hours she’d already spent on her feet waitressing that day, and she cursed the entire state of New York for being so damn cold.

She finally reached the theatre, a tiny thing nestled between shops and restaurants on the upper west side, and silently slipped inside the stage door. It was still thirty minutes before rehearsal was supposed to start, but Grace took the saying “early is on time, on time is late, late is fired” to heart and didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She reached the stage and set her things down in a chair. Then, she went off in search of a bathroom so she could change into her dance clothes.

A few minutes later, she was back onstage and a few of the other actors were there, along with the director, Charlie. Charlie was a man nearing his sixties with an impressive head of hair that he insisted was real. From the two rehearsals they’d had so far—the table read and the first sing-through—Grace gathered that he was the gentle kind of man, a rare find in New York City. He tended towards the eccentric in his creative decisions, but Grace had had worse directors. She was interested to see how he would direct this musical. She shot him a smile in greeting—he was in the middle of a conversation with their producer—and then sat down near a group of the other actors to start stretching.

The musical she’d been cast in was Bonnie & Clyde, and Grace had never been more excited to be in a show. Well, maybe she had been more excited for her first show ever back in high school, but this was the first time she was the lead in a paying production. It didn’t pay much, granted, but that was what her day job (and Actor’s Equity) was for. She was in theatre for the passion, the heart, the excitement, and she was very eager to see what doors this would open for her. Grace had heard of people getting discovered in even less prestigious theatres.

A guy not much older than her, Kevin, played Clyde. He plopped himself down beside Grace and offered her a fist bump.

“Your hair looks messed up,” he said by way of a greeting. “It’s hella windy out there.”

Grace rolled her eyes but paused her stretching to attempt to pull her hair into a reasonable braid.

“Better?”

“Much,” he grinned at her. “How was the pub?”

“Same as always. Full of rude people. How was the drugstore?”

“About the same.” He sighed. “I can’t wait until tech week… Like yeah, all the ten of twelves will be hell but it’s a more pleasant hell than eight hours at the cash register.”

“Retweet,” Grace said absently. Her eyes followed the director as he climbed up on stage, having just ended his conversation. He was flanked by the stage manager and the producer, a middle-aged lady that Grace hadn’t met before but had seen watching the first read-through. She didn’t think it was normal for the producer to come to so many rehearsals, but she knew she was hardly an expert. Charlie clapped his hands once to draw the attention of all the actors and everyone’s attention turned to him.

“Actors,” he said in his booming voice. “I have an announcement. Last night, I was offered a job directing an off-Broadway production. I have loved the work that we’ve done in our short time here, but I have to do what’s best for my career. So I’m sorry to say that I will be leaving you, effective immediately.”

In the pause where he took a breath, Kevin muttered a shell-shocked “what the fuck” from beside her. Grace didn’t really know what to think. Her mind had gone blank, save for one phrase that she couldn’t stop repeating: failure. The first production that she was a lead in was now officially a failure. She shook her head as she realized that she was going to have to start the nerve-wracking audition process all over again, the processes that gave her twenty rejections before one measly job. The best job opportunity of her life so far: a failure.

The other actors had broken out into mutters too, all of them looking as shocked as Grace felt. A voice from the back spoke up above the noise and all eyes fell on her, a woman that Grace vaguely recalled as playing Blanche, as she stood up.

“So the show’s just done then?” she asked, her voice trembling but still somehow managing an accusatory tone. “After everything we’ve done?”

The director’s eyes widened. “No, no, of course not!” he stuttered, his hands flying up in front of his chest, taking a few steps back. “I’ve arranged for Annette Keiser,” he indicated the stressed producer, “to conduct interviews for a new director as quickly as possible. In fact, I believe her first appointment is in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, yes. We’ll have a new director by Monday, I promise you that you won’t be out of work. I know of a few promising young directors that are interested in the show that I’ve contacted since last night. I’ll make sure that we only get the best.” Annette announced in a strained voice, giving away how stressed the normally bubbly woman was. “Now, I have to go prepare for my first appointment. Everyone is dismissed until Monday.” With that, she and Charlie walked off the stage in opposite directions. The stage manager nodded at the group of actors for whom the shock still hadn’t worn off, then scurried off stage to inform the techs of the new development. The actress that played Blanche walked over to Grace and Kevin, both of whom were still sitting on the floor mid-stretch.

“Well, that was a surprise twist,” she said in a soft, lilting southern accent.

“No shit, Rosa,” Kevin chuckled, causing Grace to smile. He got up and started brushing off his pants. “Hopefully I’ll see you on Monday, Grace. You too, Rosa,” he said, then sauntered off the stage.

Rosa rolled her eyes in his direction, also biting back a laugh. She stuck out a hand to help Grace up. After a beat Grace took it, smiling.

“So I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink,” Rosa said. Her words broke a little of the worry in Grace’s heart, and she started to giggle.

“Where do you live? There’s a good pub in Brooklyn, does a nice fish and chips and an even better whiskey.”

“Ooh, fish and chips does seem like it would hit the spot. Whiskey too. I live in Brooklyn, so it sounds alright to me.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Neither stopped to change out of their dance clothes, but just bundled back up and threw their bags over their shoulders, and both recoiled as soon as the cold wind hit their faces.

“Ugh. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Rosa complained. “The place I’m from, it never snows. The summer heat’s brutal, though.”

“Oh, where are you from?”

“Texas,” she answered in an exaggerated accent. “Real southern belle right here.”

“Damn,” Grace replied. “You’ll have to help me perfect my accent. This whole musical takes place there.”

“If there is a musical anymore,” Rosa rolled her eyes. “But anyways, enough about that. Where are you from?”

“Oregon,” Grace sighed. “But I went to southern California for college, so I’m not quite used to this cold either.”

“Oregon, huh? Farm girl?”

“Small town girl.” She hummed a couple bars of “Don’t Stop Believin’”, making Rosa laugh. “My parents own a diner. I think everyone was surprised when both me and my twin brother ditched Oregon for LA. We both went to USC, and he plays for the Chargers now. I guess in comparison I’m the underachiever,” she joked, trying to laugh off the accidental reveal of too much information. Rosa, bless her, smoothly ignored it and changed the subject.

“So your family’s all over the place, huh? Everyone I know is still in San Antonio. We’re all either there or Mexico, but I haven’t seen my Mexican family in a long time.”

Grace hummed in sympathy. “My twin and I were adopted. It was a closed adoption, so I still have no idea who my birth parents are, other than that they were Thai. My adoptive parents—my real parents—don’t have good relationships with their parents so I don’t have much extended family. Our family was basically the whole town.”

After a few steps in silence, Rosa spoke up again. “Well, I bet that soon enough both you and your brother will be big stars.”

“Aw, Rosa.”

“No, seriously though. You’re an amazing singer, I heard you during the first sing-through. I thought, damn, how does such a big voice come from such a little person?”

“I’m not that small!” Grace protested. Rosa just laughed from a height six inches taller than Grace. Grace adjusted her bag on her shoulder, accidentally hitting a passerby in the shoulder.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She whipped her head around to apologize to him, tucking her bag closer to her. She'd only lived in New York City for a few months, and hadn't yet succumbed to the rudeness the people of the city were so known for.

“That’s okay!” he shouted over his shoulder, not even looking back. He must have been in a hurry. But when he turned his head, Grace thought the recognized him. The black mop of hair, the tortoiseshell glasses, the crooked grin that she’d barely caught before he turned away. She stopped in her tracks, dodging pedestrians to try and get a better look at the retreating man.

Rosa noticed Grace had stopped and walked back over.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” Grace started breathlessly. “I just... thought I saw someone I knew.”

Rosa raised an eyebrow.

“It probably wasn’t him. I haven’t seen him in, God, seven years? Yeah, no way that was him.”

“Is there a story there?” Rosa asked.

Grace’s face flushed a bit. “There is, but… you’ll have to buy me a few drinks first.”

“Hell, I’m not made of money,” Rosa laughed. “I live in a shoebox for 1300 a month, if I could buy you more than one drink I would.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll tell you later, it’s not anything too interesting.”

“Whatever you say.”

The two finally reached the Brooklyn pub after a long subway ride that was a welcome reprieve from the cold. The inside of the pub was warm with soft yellow lighting. It was clear that it was more of a hole-in-the-wall than anything classy, but they both were more comfortable with the casual setting. They both sat at the bar and the bartender made a beeline over.

“Hey, Grace! Back so soon?” he teased. Grace rolled her eyes.

“Just looking for some food and some drinks for my friend and me. Our director left the production, so we might be out of a job soon.”

Rosa swatted her. “Don’t say that! It’s bad luck.”

Grace turned to her in surprise. “You were saying the same thing not even an hour ago!”

“I’m trying to be optimistic!” Rosa retorted, making them both laugh. Grace turned back to the bartender.

“Aaron, do you know if anyone has a shift this weekend that needs to be picked up? I didn’t get scheduled at all.”

“We’re closing for a renovation this weekend, remember? Getting new wallpaper.”

Grace wrinkled her nose as she looked around at the peeling wallpaper, completely torn off in some places and horribly stained in others. “Good, we need it. But that just means I’ll starve this weekend.”

“Better eat hearty tonight, then. Employee discount, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Grace brightened up. “Two Old Fashioneds, then, and two plates of fish and chips.”

“Comin’ right up,” Aaron said as he turned to grab bottles off the shelves. Rosa turned to Grace.

“So, spill. Who was that guy on the street?”

“It probably wasn’t even him,” Grace deflected.

“Well, who did you think he was?”

Grace let out a long sigh. “That guy just… looked a lot like my high school ex. That’s all.”

“Oh, so what’s the story there? Messy breakup? Lots of drama?” Rosa rested her chin on her hands, eager for the story.

“Ugh, no, not at all. He was two years older than me, so we broke up when he went to college. He went to NYU, so we decided long-distance wasn’t really an option. It sucked a lot because we were together for almost a year and a half, but there’s no bad blood between us or anything. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, so I was just surprised. But that probably wasn’t even him. A lot of guys these days like the glasses and blazers-with-jeans look.”

“Hmm,” Rosa hummed, a little disappointed. “Wouldn’t that be weird if it was him, though?”

“Yeah, really though,” Grace laughed. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what he’s up to nowadays. We don’t really talk, and he’s not too active on social media. Whoever that man was, he just gave me a serious blast from the past.”

Aaron set their drinks down, and they both smiled gratefully before picking up their glasses and clinking them together.

“To the new director,” Rosa suggested.

“To the new director!” Grace responded. “Whoever they are, they’ll have a hell of a job.”

#ajay x mc #fanfic #hssca fanfic #Bullshit #that's just my tag for this now #ella i owe u my life #update: it has a title now #tag is now how bout a dance #how bout a dance #it's a SONG #from the MUSICAL #and i still owe ella my life #my fanfic #hbad

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orionhousingsposts · 5 months ago

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raybansandcoffee · 5 years ago

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Adventure of a Lifetime: Chapter Four

You can find the first three chapters of Adventure of a Lifetime HERE. Sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter, I’m evil. I know.

*****

Fuck. How do I answer this? It's the dreaded moment I've faced doing this whole thing alone since we moved here. It's why I hated the Mommy groups. It's why I got awkward and abandoned the playdates. I didn't know where to even begin when answering this. I could lie, say that he was in LA and he saw the kids when he could. No one here would know. I could tell the truth but then I'd have to deal with all of them making that sad face everyone has been making at me for the last year.

"Umm..."

"You don't have to answer that. I get it. Single parenthood is awkward and people think that they can just ask every inappropriate and awkward question. I was out of line."

"You weren't. It's just a hard question to answer and something that honestly I haven't discussed with a single person since I moved here. We moved here in a really quick manner. And I haven't even felt okay opening up to anyone about it. But it's okay. I need to. It's been 342 days. It's time to feel okay talking about it. The kids had a wonderful Dad. One of the greatest people I've ever met. He was kind and funny and he loved them endlessly." I took a deep breath. "And their Mom. She was my soulmate. We did everything together. She was probably the most incredible human that ever existed. She knew just how to make you feel settled and safe in any situation, which was great because I'm anxious all the time. She loved being a Mom more than anything and she was the happiest I'd ever seen her." I remembered watching them walk out the door of my condo after dropping off the kids with me. They were so in love and ready to go celebrate their anniversary. The image of them kissing as the elevator across from my door closed is burned into my mind. I felt a tear slip down my cheek and quickly tried to brush it away. As he did every morning Axel reached his hands out and put them on my cheeks. "The kids aren't biologically mine. I was Ellie's godmother and just crazy Auntie Charlie with her cats. Until July 1st last year at 2:08 in the morning. My best friend and her husband died. They had been out celebrating their anniversary and surviving the first three weeks of parenting both of these babies. They got home and walked in on a home invasion in progress. The police told me that they died instantly so I at least feel okay that they weren't in pain for long. And honestly, that night was the happiest I'd seen them since their wedding night."

"Holy shit. I'm sorry. That is terrible. You really didn't have to tell me that if you didn't want to."

"It's okay. It's actually a bit of a relief. I haven't talked about Sam with anyone other than my family, our third musketeer Alex, or Sam's parents. They live in Reno, it's why I moved here. I wanted the kids to grow up close to some of their biological family. Sam and her husband Michael were both only children and his parents had both passed away."

"So from no desire to have kids to raising your best friends' two kids in an instant."

"Yup. I was babysitting the kids that night. We didn't want them to go back to the house and I couldn't have them in my one-bedroom condo for long. Alex and I sat down with Sam's Mom and Dad to go through the will and both of the kids came to me. I'd agreed to it offhand at one point when Sam was pregnant with Ellie and was serious about it but never imagined it would actually happen. You don't actually think something will happen to them both at the same time. Like maybe one of them but the other one would still be around. But I lost them both in one night and gained the kids."

"You are an incredible friend. For them to have selected you to be the guardian for the kids is a big deal."

"Yeah, I am constantly afraid I'm failing and that ghost Sam is going to pop up and yell at me for something like not giving her kid enough cake, she had a sweet-tooth. She also would totally haunt my ass if that was a thing. She was my writing partner. We knew the way the other person's brain worked."

"Writing partner?"

"Yeah, we met at USC at orientation. Turns out we had the same major. We went through undergrad and grad school at USC together. We write film scores. Or I guess I write film scores. Or I used to. In the last year, I've done the score for two short films but I'm in the process of doing my first full score without Sam which is weird."

"So how did you get from LA to here?"

"Like I mentioned Sam's Mom and Dad live in Reno. Our house was she and Michael's vacation home. The house we live in was theirs. Their will left a trust for me to take care of the kids, pay for their schooling, and cover our living expenses. With Sam having grown up in Reno they wanted to get a vacation home near her parents. They bought the place here shortly after they got married. The intention was to eventually make it their permanent home. With both of their work, they'd just to go LA whenever they needed to or Michael would be off wherever his current project was. The apartment above the garage was meant for me. Michael was convinced from the moment he met me that I was Peter Pan." I laughed remembering the first time he told me this. He was so serious about it and didn't break until the very end when he threw glitter on me like it was pixie dust and screamed at me to FLY! "I was never growing up and he wanted to make sure I always had a roof over my head if I needed it and a space for Sam and me to work together when we needed it. The house is way too big for the four of us living there right now. Having my little brother here for a while will help the house feel more alive."

"I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this but from what I've observed of Ellie and just today watching you with both of them, you've taken to motherhood well."

"Thank you. It was an awkward start. Never expecting to have kids and suddenly having an infant and a kid getting ready to start school was the biggest life change I could've imagined. Doing it not only alone but without my best friend made it even harder."

"Did they ever find who did it?"

"They did. His trial actually starts this summer. I'm trying to decide if I'm going back for the whole trial or if it's healthier for me to stay here. I've been working with the prosecutor back in LA. They want me there for a victim impact statement to speak on behalf of the kids. They've given me the option of doing it through a pre-recorded video or through a letter. I just worry about taking the kids back to LA because we don't really have anywhere to stay. I still have my place but I don't have anywhere to take them that will fit all of us comfortably."

"Did you sell their house?" I nodded.

"I did. Well, as soon as the LAPD was done with it. The trust they left would've only covered one of the properties. I couldn't imagine living in LA in that house. It was hard enough going in there to get the kids things. I needed to be able to take care of them so I had to go when it was still a crime scene. Honestly, it's an image I'm never going to be able to get out of my head. It was one of the most horrific things I've ever seen. They both worked in the film industry so we are fairly certain it wasn't a random home invasion but that they were targeted. I knew in my heart that Sam and Michael would've wanted the kids to be here and close to Sam's parents."

"That makes complete sense. I don't know that I could imagine living in a house with that kind of history. Especially with the kids. You have to do your best to take care of them. Do you get back to LA often?"

"I've been back to LA on my own when they take the kids for a long weekend or something. We all went to Stanford a couple of weeks ago to see Tony graduate from college. But I haven't taken the kids back to LA. I mean Ellie knows that Mommy and Daddy are gone and never coming back. We told her that a very bad man took them from us but they are safe now. I'll tell her the whole story at some point but at 5 she didn't need that. Axel won't have a single memory of his parents. I'm the only Mom this kid will ever remember." I hugged him tightly to my chest. "Someday I'll take them back there. Show them the places that mean the most. The place where their father proposed to their mother. The studio she and I practically lived in. Where they got married. But for now, this is home. Sam's parents opted to have them cremated so there's not a grave there to go visit which makes it a bit easier. We are having a memorial for them here at the end of the month to spread their ashes. Alex and her family are coming out along with my sister and her family. We are going to do exactly what Sam would want which is celebrate them. The memorial service when they died, she would've fuckin' hated it. I was too much of a mess to do anything for it really and so was Alex. Sam's parents weren't in LA when we needed to start planning it so my mother took over. I love my Mom but she's a mess, she's rarely even in LA anymore so it was weird. She planned something so opposite of Sam that honestly if she'd attended her own funeral she would've laughed her ass off at it. I did manage to get the ability to play a song the two of us wrote together for their wedding. I hadn't sung it since that day. I barely made it through but I did it. Sorry, I'm rambling. Outside of family and Alex, I haven't talked about Sam in a year. You opened the flood gates evidently."

"It's okay. Grief does weird things to us. You're doing a great job. If you want to keep talking about Sam you can."

"No, she'd yell at me for crying about her. Especially when I'm supposed to be making a new friend and playing with the kids. So tell me about you. What do you do for fun? I mean your life can't all be acting."

"It's not, that's for sure. When I bought this place it meant I had some projects to do, I spend time without Eva doing that. I'm also a musician."

"I noticed the baby grand. Living in LA I walked into a LOT of homes where that was purely for show but I figured that wasn't the case here."

"No, it's not. I am actually getting ready to go finish filming the last of stuff for the next Avengers movie before too long and I'm working on a film soundtrack actually."

"A film soundtrack, huh?"

"Yeah, I've voiced a character in an animated film and they are letting me do the music for it," he said. "Finally something all the kids in my life can see."

"That's freaking awesome. I'm just going to tell you, working on music for a film is one of the greatest feelings. I mean I write other music. But crafting the sound and then sitting in a theater and watching how my music gets integrated into a film is just an incredibly special feeling. You're going to have this almost otherworldly experience when you see the finished product with an audience. It's the greatest feeling in the world."

"I'm excited to understand that better." He smiled at me. "Looks like the Axe Man was tired." I looked down to see my little guy asleep with his head on my chest.

"Yeah. Thankfully this kid finally figured out how to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. I occasionally get a full night of sleep these days."

"As much as I want more kids I don't miss the middle of the night feedings, the sleep regression, the teething."

"Fuck it's a nightmare I never prepared for adequately."

"Mom! Are you getting the in the pool with us?" Ellie called.

"I will in a minute Ellie Bellie. I gotta get the Axe Man somewhere that he can sleep."

"I set up the pack and play that's still hanging around here in the bedroom down here. I also grabbed the old baby monitor I had so we can take it outside with us." Jeremy stood up and came over to take Axel from my arms where he was laying on my chest while I laid on a lounger. Once I stood up he led me through the house as I grabbed the bag of stuff for Axel. Jeremy gently laid Axel into the pack and play while I found the things I knew soothed him back to sleep if he woke up mid-nap. I kissed my fingers and pressed them against his forehead. "Ellie calls you Mom."

"She does. That was her choice. We talked about it for a while. I'd always been Auntie Charlie. When she started school she got anxious about the whole 'living with her Aunt thing'. I am their legal guardian and she knows she can still call me Charlie, she does sometimes. But the Mom thing is becoming more common, I think she wants to feel like the girls in school with her. It makes me happy and sad all at once."

"I'd imagine." He turned on the baby monitor and we left the room so Axel could sleep. "Alright, girls are the parents allowed in the pool now?"

"Yes, Daddy," Ava replied. I took my dress off and went to climb in the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jeremy pull his shirt off. I felt the breath catch in my lungs. I needed to remind myself that I was here for Ellie and not to drool over Ava's Dad all day. I headed to the stairs and entered most of the way before going completely under and swimming up right under Ellie picking her up on my shoulders. She squealed with delight. Her hands grabbed onto my head as she bent over to look into my eyes.

"I am having so much fun," she said quietly to me.

"I'm so glad Ellie Bellie. You deserve to have fun." I watched as Jeremy ran and jumped over Ava and into the pool. He splashed all of us and what followed was the sweetest sound in the world. Loud, roaring laughter from the girls. I held my breath and sunk down into the water letting Ellie get off of my shoulders. Jeremy came up underneath Ava lifting her up and throwing her a bit further into the water. Her laughter climbed louder and turned to a scream.

"Ava Berlin Renner, I'm coming to get you," Jeremy declared as he started to swim towards his daughter who was still giggle-screaming and trying to swim away from her dad. It was far too cute to watch. They shared so much joy between them and it was so visible. Even in the brief time I'd spent with them today, I could tell that they loved each other more than anything and that love was the easiest thing they'd ever done. That joy, laughter, and happiness were the tone of this house and their lives. Life wasn't always filled with joy and laughter for us. Most of the time it was filled with laughter that came from tears or lead to tears. I was watching these two beautiful humans that were now mine grow and knowing that the two most important people in their lives were missing out on the first steps, the first day of school, and would miss every other first and major life moment. I felt guilty every day for loving this role I was given because the circumstances were shitty and honestly, I'd never wanted this roll. It felt horrible to enjoy motherhood when it wasn't really mine. It was stolen from my best friend whose entire goal in life had been to be a mother and mine had been to make music that inspired people, set the scene for the greatest shot of a director or actors lifetime and changed the way people looked at female composers. I took a deep breath before hugging Ellery close to me.

"I love you, Ellie Bellie." I kissed her temple.

"I love you too, Mom." The tears that were burning the back of my eyes had clearly become visible. "Please don't cry. Today is going to be the best day ever."

"I know baby girl. I just don't want you to feel like today you have to say, Mom. Ava's Daddy knows."

"You are my Mom." God I hated how grown up this little girl had been forced to be. I kissed her again before looking her deep in the eyes.

"Do you remember that backflip we practiced last summer?" She nodded excitedly. "Want to try it?"

"Yes!!" I grabbed her two little feet in my hands as she put her hands on my shoulders. She bent forward, pressing her forehead against mine.

"Are you ready?" She nodded. "On the count of three. One...two...three." She plugged her nose as I pushed her feet out of the water sending her up into the air and watched as she started to tilt, tucking her knees to her chest and doing a backflip.

"Whoa!" Ava yelled as Ellie came out of the water. "That was so cool. Where did you learn that?"

"My Mom and I practiced last summer at my old house. We don't have a pool here so we haven't tried in a while."

"You did so great!" I said as I high-fived her.

"That was so cool, Ellie," Jeremy said as he also high-fived her. She was pretty proud of herself. The girls started to goof around with Jeremy as I floated on my back for a little while. Their laughter slightly being drowned out by the water. I felt relaxed, weightless, and like if I tried hard enough I could fall asleep like this until I felt my watch buzz on my wrist. I held it up in the air as the little green text bubble appeared with my brother's name below it.

I'm losing my mind. I'm packing my car and leaving today. Is that ok?

"Crap," I said out loud. I flipped over and swam to the edge climbing out of the pool and walking over to my cell phone. I knew texting him back would be useless so I called.

"Hey sis," he answered.

"What's going on, Tony?"

"I just can't take it. They don't understand the pressure they are putting on me. I'm going to crack if I don't leave. I got up this morning to Mom on the patio with one of her 'old friends.' It was that crazy bitch whose husband is on the Board of Trustees at Harvard. I was ambushed with talk of law school and my future and I just can't take it. I haven't really bothered unpacking since I got back from school so I'm just loading everything into my car and coming out. That's okay right?"

"It's fine but are you sure this is what you want? My life isn't what it used to be like, T."

"I know. You have the kids. You're doing the music stuff on your own. You and Savannah could honestly use my help."

"You can stay at my condo if that is a better plan for you."

"It's not," he replied. "I stayed there last weekend. She showed up Sunday morning at 7:30 to pick me up for church. Since when does my mother go to church?"

"I don't know. Probably since I became a mother. Her technically being a grandmother of five terrifies her. I also bet it was just so she could see if you were living in my drug den because you know your mother thinks I'm a drug addict or something."

"You're one of the most responsible people I know. But honestly, I can't do it. I can't be in the same city as her. Especially when Dad is as busy as he is right now. She's everywhere. I need out."

"Just drive careful. It's not a horrible drive but it's long to do alone. I've done it enough to know that. Also, there are a few good places to stop on the road and some to avoid. I'll send you the cheat sheet I have saved on my phone. Oh, and what do you want for dinner?"

"Well, I want Grandma's meatballs but I know you can't make that today."

"I can make it tomorrow. How does pizza sound tonight? Your niece and nephew are counting on pizza."

"Sounds perfect."

"Send me updates, be safe, and I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight, sis. Love you."

"Love you too, T." I hung up the phone and slumped down onto the lounger I'd been sitting on earlier.

"Everything okay?" Jeremy called from the pool.

"Yeah, just not sure we'll be able to stay as long as we planned."

"What's up?" he asked as I walked back towards the pool and sat down on the side so I could text my brother the list I told him I'd send.

"So I was evidently right and my brother had tried staying at my place. His Mom appeared in my condo at 7:30 Sunday morning to take him to church, no one in our family is overtly religious. Then this morning at their house she ambushed him with a friend of hers whose husband is on the Board of Trustees at Harvard about law school and his future. So he's currently throwing everything in his car and leaving LA to come here now. He wasn't supposed to come until next week. The studio apartment above the garage is so not ready for my brother to move in."

"Well how about we stay and have fun for a while longer here and then Ava and I can go to your place with you and I can help. Savannah can watch all of the kids and we can get your brother moved in safely and feed the munchkins pizza for dinner at your place."

"You're serious?" He nodded. "You're amazing. Thank you. I'm not sure what all he's bringing or that he wants the apartment but I feel like the studio apartment above the garage is the best plan. I mean honestly, it's my favorite part of the house." I laughed a little bit.

"It was supposed to be your Peter Pan dream home so I get it. How long do you think it will take?"

"Not long. I just need to essentially clean it a bit as it's probably covered in dust and wash the sheets. I don't even remember the last time someone stayed in it. It was probably me. It was also maybe my sister. Frankie got freaked out when I moved, she thought I should sell both houses and move near her so me moving 8ish hours away didn't go over well. I also now win the war of who has the coolest house and that annoys her to no end."

"That's actually kind of funny. Where does she live?"

"Venice, on a canal. The cutest house ever really. But she is like a 3-minute kayak ride from where our mother lives when she's actually back in town so it would not have worked for me. Living near them both would've made me crazy. My Dad and Step-Mom are in Santa Monica. So my family is all on the beach which is really nice for trips home."

"Sounds like it. I totally had your stepmom pegged for Malibu though." I started to laugh really loudly.

"Funny story, when they sold the house in Beverly Hills that I grew up in my stepmom BEGGED my Dad to move to Malibu. He was not willing to make that commute every day so she got to pick from Santa Monica, Venice or Marina Del Rey if she wanted water. He tried to downsize into a condo in downtown LA but that wasn't gonna happen. So they are right on the beach, have a pool and all of that fun stuff. It's a great house. It truly is and even though it's way too big for the people in our family that live there Mandi has clearly figured out how to make Tony batshit crazy." I pulled up the text message that Tony had just sent me. He'd clearly packed his car in record time to get out of there before he went completely bonkers. I couldn't blame him but I also hoped he didn't get here and in a week hate it because I wasn't going to wait on him hand and foot while making sure he was constantly entertained. I nannied for him a few summers when he was a kid so it's not surprising that he thinks I'm just there to have fun but truly I need to be an adult on occasion and my brother was horrible at encouraging that behavior.

ON THE ROAD!

Be careful. We will see you in a few hours!

"You guys are gonna be okay. If your brother starts to go stir crazy just send him over here. I can put him to work on some of my projects."

"I don't think Tony understands the concept of manual labor. He's never had to have a job. He worked in school at a bar because he could pick up girls that way." I laughed as I rolled my eyes. "His Mom still doesn't know that. He's a genius. By far the smartest one of all of us. Law School has always been what everyone expected from him but I think he'd rather do something completely different. He's an incredible musician, a great writer. When he was in high school he was a giant science nerd and I fully expected him to become a doctor or some shit. I think he wants to work in journalism or politics based on what he studied in school but our Dad definitely thinks he double majored in Communications and Public Policy to go into First Amendment Law. I mean Dad would be proud if someday he ended up in politics but the Law School things would be a requirement first, or at least the smart decision. It's all ridiculous. I mean my sister runs a non-profit and I'm a musician. While we both make a really great living we were allowed to choose our own path. Tony has the pressure of carrying on the family name and legacy."

"Law is the family legacy?" Jeremy asked. He was resting his arms on the side of the pool next to me. I hadn't had this kind of conversation with anyone in a long time.

"It is. Our great-grandfather founded Dad's law firm and Tony would be the fourth generation there. There had been some pressure on Frankie and me for a while. She met her husband in college and thankfully he was headed to law school so Dad got his fix by having his son-in-law as part of the firm. My senior year in high school I thought I'd just buckle under the pressure and follow in his footsteps. But when I had my senior recital for piano my Dad told me he wasn't going to allow me to do anything but follow my heart. I think that the fact that I'd written the score for a short film a few friends did help too. I wasn't going to follow my dreams in the back of a van on tour but follow them through film made him happy. I caught the bug for it young. We had a theater room in the house and I'd spend every weekend watching movies and trying to figure out how to play the music on my piano. Eventually, he had to set rules that I had to spend a certain amount of time outside so I didn't just sit in that theater for days on end, especially during school breaks. I was way too young to be watching most of them but it was the thing that made me happiest."

"That's really cool. I had no idea what I wanted to do, even in college. I loved music and was in a band in high school but I never saw that as an actual future, it was just something fun to do. I was studying computer science and criminology when I took my first drama class and caught the bug. I'm almost jealous that you knew so young what you wanted to do. "

"It's nice but I also never did anything else. I loved swimming. I should've done things like join the swim team but that would've taken me away from music. Being a hyper-focused kid was nice because there was no question of what my future would be but I missed out on so much. I want to make sure that doesn't happen to the babies. I need to start getting my shit together. I'm a year into this now, there are no excuses for this anymore. Like Ellie should've been in dance during the school year but by the time I found a place that didn't seem sketchy I was too late to sign her up. I've been teaching her piano for like 8 months now but she has so much more personality than I have ever had. She's way cooler than me."

"You're pretty cool," Jeremy said through a bit of laughter.

"Her Mom was seriously the coolest though. God, one of my favorite things about Sam was that we had this pretty big premiere for a film we'd done the score for. I sent her the photo of the dress I'd decided to wear. The night of the premiere arrived, the car was picking she and Michael up first and then coming to get me. I had done an entire afternoon with a fucking glam squad, totally out of my element. Get down to the car, there she is, with her head sticking out the sunroof in my dress. She bought the black and gold version of the black and silver dress I had. We walked the red carpet in a matching dress." I pulled up the photo on my phone and turned it to show Jeremy.

"That's amazing." He took the phone from my hand to look at both of the pictures that I'd pulled up for him. "She's very beautiful, I can see her in Ellie."

"Spitting image. It's almost creepy but it's wonderful."

"Well, you both look absolutely beautiful in those photos. You both look so happy. Maybe I'll have to creep your IMDB and watch a few of the films you've done the score for." I laughed.

"Ask first, some of them aren't great and some of them are literally impossible to find...unless you're in my basement theater. I don't have a career that's as accessible as yours."

"Well then maybe we will need to have a movie night. I'd love to be able to see your work."

**********

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Developing the story of how Charlie became a mother was something that was hard for me. I debated back and forth about all of it. Trying to decide the traumatic event that led to the loss she's experienced and the new role in life she has. I had a few ideas that I tossed around but the reality was, for Charlie to become the guardian of both of Sam's children it couldn't be just Sam that was gone. There were so many possibilities, I settled with this version because while it is traumatic it didn't involve any domestic abuse, which was something I wasn't comfortable telling the story of in this setting.

Losing Sam was one of the hardest experiences of Charlie's life for a multitude of reasons. She lost her creative partner, her business partner, her best friend, and became a Mom all in the blink of an eye. She'd never prepared to be a parent and was an insta-mom to a 4-year-old that wanted to know where her Mommy and Daddy were and a baby that wasn't even a month old. Add in that she opted to move the children out of Los Angeles for their own privacy and security even though it wasn't the best option for her personally. She immediately knew to put those babies first.

For Jeremy to allow her to open up about this trauma and let her talk through it shows how kind and good he is. Grief is a different process for everyone who experiences it. For Charlie she still deals with the trauma every day and needed to find someone to talk to about it. Finding that in Jeremy is something she feels so lucky for.

I also can't wait for everyone to meet Tony! I love the idea of him being around the house to help his sister, be part of the kids' lives, and try to find his way in the world all at once. Developing Tony is so fun because he's still fairly bright and shiny, he's not dark and twisty like Charlie.

I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.

xx. AM

#jeremy renner #jeremy renner fanfic #jeremy renner fan fic #jeremy renner fanfiction #jeremy renner fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #elizabeth olsen #lizzy olsen #marvel #mcu #avengers #fanfic writer #writer #fanfic writblr #adventure of a lifetime fanfic

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hubilu · 5 years ago

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#apartments near USC LA #Off Campus apartments near USC

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mostlydaydreaming · 6 years ago

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One of the few interviews with Gene Kelly’s son, Tim

Like other young kids who grew up in America, young Tim Kelly managed a few lemonade stands in his time. “And they did very well,” he says now. “But I didn’t really understand why.” Probably it was his location: the sidewalk in front of the Beverly Hills house that belonged to his dad, Gene Kelly.

Tim is still offering value for money received and his name still doesn’t hurt, but he has recently moved up from lemonade stands to dance halls. He and a partner ran the Nairobi Room, which overnight became LA’s hottest after hours club and which charged only $5 to get in the door. “If we upped the admission,” said Tim, 22, “we wouldn’t get the type of kids that make it happen.” The club’s mix of models, yuppies, street kids from Watts or East LA, stars, and anyone else who could crowd in, gave the Nairobi a special electricity.

All this has been done with little help from home. Once, after several months as proprietor and host of this genial oddity, Tim invited his dad down for a visit. “It was a big surprise to him,” he recalls. “He went off dancing. When he came back he said, ‘Gosh, this is a great time, but some of these kids need dancing lessons.’”

The relationship between father and son seems a close one, and it has been tested by tragedy and near tragedy. Tim’s mother, Jeanne, died of leukemia when he was 11 and his sister, Bridget, was 9 (now 19 and a student in Paris). Gene “quit working to stay home with those children,” a family friend recalls. “For years he was home at 6 to have dinner with his kids every night.” Says Tim, “He became both father and mother.” Last Christmas Tim saved his father’s life in a fire that razed the Beverly Hills house his father had lived in for nearly 40 years by guiding him out through the smoke.

Although Gene pays Tim’s tuition at USC’s film school and lets him use the garage apartment at a big house they’ve rented since the fire. Tim also worked regularly as a production assistant while raking it in at the Nairobi. “I work twice as hard as anyone else,” he says. “It’s best if someone doesn’t know who I am. When they do, they expect the worst from me, thinking ‘Oh, daddy got him the job.’”

That’s hardly a problem given Tim’s natural reticence. “As a child, anytime a camera came out, I disappeared,” he says. “Few people realize that Gene Kelly has a son.” Although the house was frequented by such friends of his father as Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Robert Wagner and Natalie Wood, Tim looked at them as “just regular people.” Later he spurned fashionable Beverly Hills High in favor of Loyola, a Jesuit school noted for its acedemic excellence, located in a largely Hispanic LA neighborhood. That doesn’t mean he is snooty about performers. Last August he worked as a DJ at Sean Penn and Timothy Hutton’s joint birthday party. “It felt odd,” he said, “because I knew so many of the people there. But it was fine. I really like working.”

“He is a perfectionist,” Tim says. “When he watches his movies, the only thing he won’t criticize is the ballet scene in An American in Paris. But he’s also very down to earth. Late one night I was photographing a New York graffiti artist in the basement. I had music cranked up on this blaster, and my dad wondered down into the kitchen. Now this artist said, ‘Wow, a real legend,’ and he wanted to meet him but he felt my dad would be a blown-away conservative thinking, ‘Who’s this nut with dreadlocks in my house?’ but then he went up to the kitchen and found my dad just drinking beer, scatting around to the music. ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘a real regular guy.’”

(People, (6/18/1984)

#i would have love to have seen Gene dancing at his son’s club with all those kids #or dancing alone in the kitchen with a beer with no one around #gene kelly #article #tim kelly

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ashbornrp · 6 years ago

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name: kathryn marie atkins

age: 33

species: werewolf

occupation: atkins pack leader and adult film star

faceclaim: diane guerrero

biography.

Thick humidity and patches of moss covered her childhood home. It was old, barely standing since it’s purchase in the early 1900s. In Delight, the hottest spot was a run down creek with empty beer bottles tossed between a few reckless teenagers. The small town barely held three hundred in its population. Her father worked in construction while her mother stayed at home to mold her children into model Evangelists. Between double shifts and late nights, Maria wasn’t tending of her children. So long as they remained well-behaved and docile, she didn’t make the effort. Instead, a string of different friends ventured to her room. She never caught their names.

A lover of God and extremely well read, the brunette would remain seated on the front row of service each Sunday. While her brother waved an acceptance letter from Harvard, Kat sat in the Arkansas musk near Wolf Creek with a stolen cigarette. Once Rob left, there wasn’t anyone to guide her. The role of both parent and sibling whisked away on a full ride to become a doctor. She didn’t admit the twinge of jealousy that twisted in her gut. He got to leave, but not many did. Her grades were mediocre in comparison. Everything was. The only way she could thrive past her brother’s shadow was through theater.

Maria hyper focused near the end of high school to ensure her daughter thrived. It was a double edge pressure. Kat would make qualms against her mother’s adultry to get away with what she wanted. Exhausted from the peering looks from her mother and the aggravated tone of her father’s as his greasy hands clenched on his fifth beer, Kathryn gave in. After applying around to different universities, the brunette merely waited on her decision. She was never necessarily passionate about school, despite her academic achievements. The ringing leader was NYU. She decided to take a trip, staying with her brother as he showed her around the campus. It was almost too good to be true - - - away from their soul eating parents, living on their own, and creating a new life for themselves. She accepted the offer. She returned home with a newfound motivation towards high school graduation.

After an after party near the outskirts of town, Kat and her best friend, Roy broke into private property. It was a drunken idea to create crop circles that ended with a bite on her collarbone that began and ended her life as she knew it. The fever set in within hours. The other wolf mauled her best friend, leaving him bleeding out between a bottle of Everclear. Rather than stay by her injured friend, the teenager stumbled drunk through corn husks until authorities stopped her by the main road. She was thrown into a squad car as the investigation continued. Eventually, it was swept under the rug. They all concluded that it was some sort of hog attack, not what it really was.

As the summer drew to a close, Kat settled into an undergraduate degree of pre-med biology. She struggled with her new abilities and kept it a secret from everyone she knew. Her first year at university felt like a hiccup. She finally settled into what her parents wanted, but none of it felt right. In a skew of finding herself, she went out on a limb. Her first job in college was nude photography. It lined her up for other opportunities aside from a wannabe SoHo magazine. The photography was just side money at first. She couldn’t afford her medication through the university insurance, and needed some way to pay for room and board.

It wasn’t until her second semester at NYU that she dropped off the grid completely. She cut off all contact from her parents and anyone back home. Her photography progressed into a career in adult film. It fulfilled the checklist in her life: acting, fame, and money. She bounced between traveling around the nation and keeping up with contract jobs in porn. Bouncing from her girlfriend’s apartment, she hitched a ride with a band. Washable was on the rise, stationed on their second studio album. She bummed in the bus for the second half of their tour before stopping back in Los Angeles.

From Los Angeles to New York City, Kat got a taste of what it was like to feel herself. She soon became a pillar in the adult community – striking a name recognizable almost anywhere. Between the twelve hour sets and hectic atmosphere in her friend group, she slowly slipped from recreational to substance abuse. It started off with prescription, popping a few Xans when she was wound tight. Then, it was almost daily. It was an issue well hid even from her current relationship. New York offered more than anything in LA. She kept her head down and worked hard on sets.

In the string of highs and lows, she ended up hooking up with a familiar face from Washable. Rather than keep it casual, it eventually progressed to a full fledged relationship. The star juggled both until one merely favored over the other. As she progressed in the new relationship, so did old demons. He never mentioned her use and she mentioned his. Drinks and pills ran together well until it slipped down the wormhole. Nearing a year celebration of their relationship, Kat fell into heroin. It was cheap and easy to curb stress. It was the high she sought after, warmth gathered in a calm sleep. It should have worked well. She did what she could to hide her use from Jake. It all ended with dead eyes locking as she stretched in a tub. A spoon and a bundle was all the evidence he needed. Rather than confront, he left the apartment with a duffle bag. He was supposed to come back. She focused on the same voicemail for weeks as the come downs were harsher. She couldn’t stop, but the police knocked on her door. His friend, Silas filed a missing persons report. There were never any leads, but vague surveillance footage. It was as if the man simply disappeared.

Dating was scarce and absent. Kathryn struggled with the grasp of her addiction and pushed forward as much as she could to live a sober life. Through the string of a year, she dated a hunter. It ended just as anyone would assume it would, in blood. She buried the body and rushed out of town as soon as she could with her pack. The brunette set sights for Las Vegas. There were no other werewolves in town and she could easily settle into a job in the scene. Her pack slowly grew from two members to four as the years stretched by. Kathryn remains a strong and steady leader, despite her grip on her sobriety. She recently clocked in six years on her sobriety chips and planned to continue forth on her healing. She joined the USC in the past year, focusing her strength on revealing the supernatural to the world. She believed it is what is right for the community as a whole. Not everyone is a monster. She wanted the world to see that first hand.

#literate rpg #new rpg #lsrpg #oc rpg #diane guerrero fc #character: kathryn atkins #taken #drugs tw #addiction tw

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