#it wasn’t a ton of money like 80$ tops before I checked my statement this month
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Where the FUCK did my credit card get cloned?
In other news I was brave today and finally got myself a secondary cane to keep in my car and I used it TAing my lab today and literally no one said anything and that’s a relief.
#ra speaks#personal#adulting#looking at when the purchases started I’m guessing the gas station in VT I stopped at#on the way back from the camp this summer (I TOLD YOU DAD I SHOULD USE THE OVERPRICED LOCAL PUMP INSTEAD OF DRIVING TO TOWN)#bc I’ve been using my regulars for like a year no problem#fuck You sunoco gas station your prices suck and I got my card fraudes#sounds like I’ll get the money back it just sucks to wait 2-3 weeks for a card#*handing the hanafords employee a hundred dollar bill* sorry :(#it wasn’t a ton of money like 80$ tops before I checked my statement this month#and homeboy was trying to slide 200$+ by like hmmm my ass hasn’t used Amazon since FEBRUARY son#if you were smart and kept to the 15-30$ purchases maybe I wouldn’t have noticed#really shot yourself in the foot there. thought you hacker types were supposed to be smart.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Qui Totum Vult Toum Perdit (d.s.) - 7
A/N Guilty or generous
Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.
One thing my parents always taught us while we were growing up was, when traveling, to never stay at the cheapest hotel. By no means should we break the bank to stay at a five-star resort but there was usually nothing good that came out of the cheapest option. I could see what they meant as Jonah and I climbed the metal stairs of the Lincoln Motel, the white paint peeling from the handrails and the steps creaking with each footfall. Once having been on the cover of Forbes, I no longer really needed to follow that guidance that my parents engrained in us since I could afford all the five-star hotels and resorts I so desired to stay at.
I mean, to be brutally fair, dear reader, my parents also taught us not to murder our spouses; so who knew how many lessons of theirs I had ignored in my lifetime.
I triple checked that my car was locked as we reached the top of the flight of stairs and headed down the carpeted outdoor hallway. Anyone who uses carpet outside should honestly not be trusted. This place already left a bad feeling in my stomach. Would saying it gave me murder house Psycho vibes be in poor taste? Possibly? Then please disregard that statement.
Number nineteen was right in the middle of the hallway. The brass number nine was set slightly crooked on the door. I caught myself tilting my head with its direction as if I were trying to stall. I swear if the person on the other side of the door slept with my wife I…I didn’t know what I would do but the thought of it made me sick.
“Are you going to knock?” Jonah tore me from my thoughts.
I swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”
I raised my fist to the orange painted door and rapped a quick knock before taking a little step back. I habitually glanced over the railing to make sure no one was getting too close to my car.
The sound of the door creaking open had me turning back quickly to see who was on the other side. I expected a man and that’s who I was met with, simply the first glance of him making my jaw clench protectively.
He was short. Brown hair. Brown eyes. His patterned button up was undone halfway. Arms and neck littered in random tattoos. I eyed him up for a moment.
“Can I help you?” he asked, an obvious confused edge to his voice.
“Yeah, do you know an Avalon Seavey?” I pushed back at him strongly. I couldn’t help but straighten up around him just to have those few inches above him.
“Avalon? Yeah, I know her enough. Why?” he looked between Jonah and me.
I took off my sunglasses and tucked them in the collar of my shirt to see him better in the shadow of the motel balcony.
“I’m her husband.”
“Daniel.” he breathed with realization, his eyebrows raising as he stared at me.
“Yeah. Daniel. Who are you?” I asked sharply.
Jonah didn’t intervene through my anger, in fact, he looked just as concerned as I felt. I appreciated his willingness to let me have my moment to interrogate this guy.
“I’m Jack. How did you find me here?”
“I found your address in her phone.” I added.
“Oh, what a nice non-toxic relationship you have.” Jack mumbled.
“Excuse me?” I took a quick step towards him but Jonah grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
“I was not sleeping with your wife if that’s what you’re here getting all macho protective douche-bag about.” Jack assured me coolly. “We had nothing more than a professional relationship.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at Jack’s unimpressed flat expression. He didn’t seem to be one to be phased by anything.
“Professional over what?” I pressed.
“Does Avalon know you’re here?” he ignored my question while he peeked around me as if to see her down the hallway or in the parking lot below.
I didn’t flinch as he looked around me. Little did he know that she was in fact right there with us.
“She’s dead.” Jonah answered.
I hadn’t realized I hadn’t replied to him for a few too many seconds but Jonah’s blunt response certainly brought be back to reality. I snapped my head towards him. Since when did we agree we were going to be telling people that?
“Oh.” Jack said flatly. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah…well…I wanted to see who you were…so…” I stumbled out ungracefully, rubbing the back of my neck anxiously with one hand. I dropped it with a sigh to my side again, “We’ll be going.”
“Hang on. Come in for a second.” Jack offered, stepping to the side and pushed the door open wider to let us on. “I gotta show you something.”
Jonah and I glanced at each other briefly before silently deciding to follow him into the motel room. I peeked over my shoulder to my car down in the lot once more before stepping over the threshold.
Jack seemed to sense my hesitation as he closed the door behind us, “I won’t keep you long. A nice car like that won’t last long around here unsupervised.”
I swallowed thickly, watching him walk across the messy motel room to the closet. Jonah and I stood just inside the door and the first thing I noticed was the bright teal wallpaper that even covered the ceiling, so bright and neon it was nearly blinding and it did not match the dark red floral print carpet at all. The bed had red bedsheets and a dark mahogany headboard that was more 1960s mirror panel than wood and beside it sat a single small round table with a fold out chair and a rotary phone on top. The bathroom sink and light oak vanity was outside of the bathroom in the main room which right away was another turn off to this already run-down place. I was no decorator, dear reader, but the sight of this motel room was nearly nauseating. And that’s said by someone who had a dead body stashed in their car trunk.
As Jack shuffled through the bi-fold closet for whatever he was looking for, I took a moment to take in my surroundings for more than just the initial shock of colour and pattern vomit that filled the place. The neon 80s themed picture above the bed was of the New York skyline which was strange since we were in Los Angeles, and the fact that there were two more mahogany framed mirrors along the other walls was unsettling. I tried not to meet my own reflection.
Jack had a suitcase laid out beside the mahogany dresser and it was tossed open and clothes were haphazardly thrown about it but the suitcase wasn’t the only spot for fabrics as every other available surface – including the small table in the corner – housed various piles of fabric scraps and scissors and pins and needles. The worst of it was the few bare mannequins laying under the window adjacent to the door.
“So…” I started slowly, turning back to Jack whose back was still turned to us, “How did you know my wife?”
“My business.” Jack answered. He pulled a jacket on a hanger from the back of the closet and dropped it on the table right on top of all the scraps and pins and mess. He grabbed one of the many pairs of scissors that were scattered around and snipped a few things that I couldn’t see from where we stood.
His dry answers to our questions had Jonah and I more suspicious as the time went past but we waited to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.
Jack finally turned around with a small smile and picked up the hanger to turn and face the black denim jacket towards us, “I’m a bit of a fashion designer I guess you can say and Avalon found my page on Instagram a few months back and she got in touch with me about making you a custom jacket.”
I didn’t know what to say. In all the words I could use, perfect was the only one that came to my mind as I stared at the jacket in his hand. Someone might see it as a mess of things but it was just my taste; chaos enough to pass as designer even. It housed red x’s painted over the right shoulder and a single white stripe down the left side that matched my surname on the bottom right front panel. He made sure to show each of the denim sleeves, cuffed at the bottom in black and red plaid and the left wrist had ‘honey’ printed in small white font – the nickname I always called her. The other sleeve had matching vertical white font spelling out ‘Only the Beginning’ which was the name of Jonah and my very own record company; the company that always caused the most hostility between Avalon and me. Jack finally turned the jacket around to show the back, the shoulder section sewn over with a lace that looked a hell of a lot like Avalon’s wedding dress and I found myself stunned into shocked silence. It was incredible.
I walked into that motel with no hopes of any sort but what I seemed to find amidst those disgusting teal walls was better than I ever could have expected.
I took a step forward to take the jacket from him, grazing the sleeve ever so gently with my fingers as if it were going to break under my touch. Jack passed it over and helped me slide it on to make sure it fit. He brushed his hands over my shoulders and down my back to smooth it out and directed me to one of the many mirrors that were glued to the motel wall.
“That jacket is fresh.” Jonah said.
“It’s…gorgeous.” I agreed softly, turning slightly to see the back in the mirror.
Jack spoke next as he watched me admire his work, “She worked me into the ground for this one. I kept having to restart because she kept saying it wasn’t perfect enough…I lost a fuck ton of materials and money through that…ended up getting evicted from my place because I wasn’t earning money to pay rent which is why I’m living in this shithole now but…she was adamant. Said it had to be perfect for you. We were going to meet up one last time once you two got back from your trip but…” he faded out with a sigh.
I turned to him, “You were evicted?”
“Oh,” Jack shrugged as if it was no big deal and sat down on the end of the bed, “Yeah. She said she couldn’t pay me right away and I assured her it was no big deal but then when money got tight I felt badly to ask for an advance. She was my only client, ya know? She worked me hard enough anyway to pass as my only customer but…with no pay…landlord ended up kicking me out and this was the cheapest place in the whole county. It’s such an absolute fucking dump here that my daughter isn’t allowed to come visit me until I get back on my feet…court said something about unfit living situations or some bullshit. Not like my ex needs anymore reasons to talk shit.”
“Shit…bro…I’m sorry.” I breathed.
“What can ya do?” Jack shrugged, sucking his teeth with a shake of his head. He stood up from the end of the bed, offering a dry, “She’s dead now anyway so…”
I turned to Jonah who gave me a look as if to just get out of there but I looked back in the mirror at the jacket I wore.
Goddammit.
I spoke to Jack through the mirror, “Do you take PayPal?”
Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @sexyseavey15
#🔪#daniel seavey#why dont we#jonah marais#jack avery#zach herron#daniel seavey fanfic#why dont we fanfic
27 notes
·
View notes