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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

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Hey, can I have yandere!shinsou to insult the chubby!reader bcs she really made him angry to her by being rebellious so it ended up with she is getting fuck so hard by him 🥵💦

yandere ! SHINSO HITOSHI

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, mind-control, jealousy

MISTAKES COME BEST WHEN SERVED IN THREES

She’d been bugging him all night.

They were hauled up in his dorm-room with homework, had been so for hours. And it wouldn't have been too bad, but she wouldn't shut up.

She laid on her stomach, elbows propped up beneath her, tits mushed perfectly into his mattress, looking like a comfortable pillow fo support, squeezed like two plump balloons in her top with the way she bounced on them. She always bounced as she spoke, so bubbly, voluptuous lips sucking on her pen in those breaks where she didn't have anything to say, looking like a cute little bunny with the chubs of her cheeks, her legs kicking in the air, ass wiggling like a puppy wagging its tail, as she babbled on and on and on about her stupid crush.

Disgusting. He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled his eyes, sustained clicking his tongue in an exasperated fashion, now feeling the growing need to go puke his guts up.

“He’s got such pretty hair too, like... it’s fluffy, like a cat, like he has secrets hidden inside there or something...” He wanted to claw his eyes out, but he couldn't stop looking at her, those lips, that cheeky smile, her childish giggle. His ears bleeding, not wanting to hear another silly foolish detail about whomever the fuck had her so neatly tied around there finger. “I just want to run my hands through it, you know?” She fiddled with a lock of her own hair while she daydreamed, finger raking through the pretty shiny treads. “Tangle my fingers inside it and ride his face.” That’s when he snapped.

It took only a split second to process, perhaps because he’d imagined it so many times already. Her plush thighs hugging his face, hands grabbing the fat of her ass, setting the rhythm, not letting her go until he feels her dripping down his chin. “Who?” He sounded like an owl, looked like one too. Eyes intense as they stared at her place on his mattress.

Such audacity she had, talking up wet-dreams of someone else in his fucking bed.

Her brows knitted, looking at him, legs stopping to rub together in the air. “Hm?” She only hummed, but it was enough.

“What’s his name?” He repeated, and this time she had no choice but to answer.

Her features blanched, eyes pooling with void, enslaved, gorgeous, pupils blown large like a black lake, like ink ready to write all her secrets, to spill her guts for him.

“Shinso Hitoshi.”

The name dropped from her lips without hesitance, and despite the monotonous sound of it, despite lackluster at the absence of her substantial voice, her full-bodied brazen wild tone, it still managed to make his heart stop, stammer in his chest, before beating along like it usually does, like a skipping rock, picking up its pace, soon to be hammering like some war-drum, fueling war-paint through his system, spiked and frayed, making the thin hairs at the nape of his neck rise, his purple mane frizz with static.

Thoroughly put out, enough to lose his hold on her.

“Did you...” She shook from the shock, from the shackles. “Did you just-” Her palms pushed into her temple as her eyes scrutinized, pulling her knees to curl into a sitting position on the bed. “Use your quirk on me?”

Her frame had bled into a blurry view at the light of his bliss, his smile widened into a sneer as sharp as a knife, eyes refocusing at the sound of her voice breaking the otherwise pin-drop silence and galloping of his heart.

He scoffed at her pout, at the brimming, swirling vivid look of betrayal climbing in her eyes, almost drooling at the bashful blush that adorned her cheeks, having never seen her shy or humiliated before and finding an unparalleled sense of victory at the sight of it.

“What?” He shrugged, sly smile nudging further up on his face, smug and victorious, uncaring of whatever feeling he must have stirred with knowing how she actually felt plain and simple and outspoken, pulled right from her chest, still echoing on the walls, ringing in his mind, dripping from his teeth. He could almost laugh. “Not the guy you thought I was?”

“This isn't funny, Toshi.” Believe him, he didn't think so either. “I trusted you.”

“Your first mistake.” His lilac eyes shone with such sinister glee, such carnal sadistic pleasure, she felt it like a claw on her throat. “Liking me is your second.”

“You’re such a jerk.” Her voice strained, caught between being vicious to teary-wet. He could only imagine, like he’d done so many sleepless nights already, the catlike whimpers and whines she’d spill once he did like she suggested earlier.

She pushed herself off his bed with a bounce and huff and a sweet little sniffle, walking past where he still sat seated on the chair by his desk, hand drumming lean knuckled fingers on the table. “Leaving so soon, Kitten?” He didn't bother getting up. He didn't need to.

“Fuck- you.” She mumbled, her voice already a croak of suppressed cries, her heart aching in her chest as she walked to the door.

The smile cracked even farther, more salacious, more enjoyed, gorged and savored. “Fuck me? Heh, that’ll be your third...” He scoffed, laugh lacing his mocking words. “Stop.” Was all he needed to say to turn all her nerves against her and bend them to do his bidding. “Come here.”

His hand still drummed on the table, not having bothered turning around as he heard her approach him again. Perfectly timed steps, one after the other, mechanical almost, until she stood, plain and simple, without resistance, between his legs, all up for grabs. His fingers stopped drumming.

Then there was silence again. But she would say the smirk on his face was loud, and so was the glint in those lavender orbs, warm in her head, in her cheeks, hot and heavy with how he eyed her, up and down. Hotter as those arms, lined with the muscles of a man, straining veins and fresh bruises from his training, reaching out scarred hands to touch her ample hips, pulling her closer, tighter between his thighs. Fingers, strangely confident and lax, unbothered and unhurried, soon fiddling with the clasp that kept her short school skirt together at the waist, pinching what pliable flesh he found as he explored. Other hand ascending with the same grace, working slowly as he twisted the buttons to her shirt open, popping one after the other, face buried and pushed into the welcoming warm embrace of her breasts with a heavy sigh, lips dragging up and down the valley of them, nose rubbing and cuddling into her skin, teeth soon gracing alongside his tongue licking at her. Her shirt and skirt falling to the floor, pooling around her ankles, meanwhile his hand moved to the back to pinch loose the clasp of her bra, where the other hand had made itself busy feeling up the thickness of her ass like putty between his greedy fingers.

“On the bed.” He growled, face still mushed into her skin, all clothes except her precious cotton panties left in a pile by the desk.

And off she went, Shinso getting up and out of his chair to trail after her, towering over her short frame, looking down at the back of her head and how it seemed to bob up and down as she walked, hips swaying like a feline from side to side as she stalked, until she turned on her heel and plopped down with a bounce. Always so bouncy. So plump and full of life. Juicy like a peach.

He got down on his knees quickly, hands reached out to grab her knees, prying them apart carefully, opening up for a view of soft plush doughy flesh and the valley that made her panties look like a heart just beneath her tummy, all for him to bite into. He groaned, hands curled as they raked down from grabbing at her ass, until they hooked under her knees, pushing her up and down on her back, tits bouncing from the fall, his other hand giving them the attention they deserve, kneading one breasts in his palm, fingers going from tweaking the nib to pulling at it like picking up a water-balloon by the tail, managing to wake her.

“Get off!” She gasped, whined at the harsh touch, hands coming to push at his hard abs. But he wasn't budging, hands easily and softly finding her wrists to keep them from flailing, his dark chuckle stirring that something deep within her gut.

“Get off?” He repeated, questioningly, a slight snicker playing in his tone. “What?” It was clear he was amused, that he had no regrets and no intentions of backing down. “You don't like it when I touch you?” He pushed her down, drowned her in the sheets, hiked his knee up on the bed to earn leverage and height, like a tower toppling over, pushing her wrists into the mattress, head dipping to kiss at her collarbone, nose sliding up her neck as she shook her head in slight protest were any verbal answers were sure to be taken advantage of. “Well-” He scoffed. “That’s a lie.” His words whispered at her ear, as he smoothly hooked his foot under her leg to push them open, knee fitting snugly between the tight space of her thighs, hiking her up over the tops of his own, fitting between her. “We both know you’ll love it when I touch you, Kitten.”

He bit her earlobe with another snicker, kissed her cheek chastely, slipping his tongue into her mouth as he dunked in for one hungry sloppy kiss, loving her adorable girlish squeals beneath him, how her hands had stopped struggling, a tinge of rose blushing her cheeks once he pulled up for air.

“There’s no need to be shy.” Pupils blown, his eyes had never seemed darker. “You belong to me.” He kissed down her neck, bit at her skin. “Every single inch of you.” His hands relieving their post, leaving two smaller hands to stay where they’d been placed. “These tits.” Lips kissing the bud of her breast, teeth rolling it on his tongue. Rough fingers grabbing like claws into the cake of her thighs again, spreading them further apart. “These thighs.” He growled, hands cupping her ass to rut his bulge into her thinly clothed sex, lips crashing onto her once again, even as she yelped against him. “This ass.” He groaned, rocking into her. “All of you. Every single curve.” He purred. “There won’t be an ounce of your being left untouched, unlicked, un-fucked once I’m done.”

#yandere hitoshi #yandere hitoshi shinso #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere Hitoshi Shinso #yandere hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #Shinso Hitoshi #Shinsō Hitoshi #hitoshi #Shinsou #shinso #shinsou fluff

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deans-haunted-baby · 4 years ago

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Dadstiel Shoulder Touch Analysis

I want to take some time to discuss something about this incredible father/son dynamic that I don’t think gets enough recognition. And that is their connection. A connection layered in so many different attributes yet primarily based on physical touch. Apologies this is going to be long. Despite my saltiness towards Supernatural as I feel the show squandered them during its run, I really love the amount of attention to detail that was put into Castiel and Jack’s relationship. It kind of has a Terminator inspired vibe going on which I can’t deny enjoying. The bodyguard and the future savior of mankind. And this bond was in development all the way back in season 12; long before Jack was born.

During 12x19 it’s through his mother Kelly, that the son of Lucifer forges an emotional attachment with the trench-coated angel whom he imprints on to be his surrogate dad. From the moment Castiel puts his hand on her belly, and feels Jack, they instantly fall in love with each other. At first touch. Trusting each other completely without the slightest bit of doubt as they sense the other’s good aura. It’s a devotion unlike anything Cas has ever experienced in his millions of years. Even more than what he’s felt for Sam and Dean. And it happens before he and Jack even get to see each other. Their bond becomes intensely essential that it boosts Castiel’s grace, allowing him to protect Kelly and her son from Dagon as well as cause a rip in time and space.

After Jack is born and in the care of the Winchesters, scared, lost and confused yet curious as an infant in an adolescent body; the child wanders aimlessly searching for Castiel. All he wants in that moment is to be with Castiel because that is who he recognizes as his father. Missing him and needing to feel that same warmth, protection and compassion he felt from inside his mother’s womb. However, following the tragic circumstances that led to the angel’s unexpected death at the hands of Jack’s biological dad in 12x23, these two are forcibly separated in the beginning of season 13. Until Jack instinctively resurrects Castiel out of the Empty through his own will and desire alone at the very end of 13x03. Proving that no matter how far away they are, the tether between them can’t be broken.

These two don’t even need an introduction from Sam and Dean when 13x06 finally reunites them for the first time. Jack immediately knows who Castiel is going off on his mother’s memories. And their reunion comes so naturally. There’s no awkwardness, no hesitation or apprehensiveness emanating from the angel’s presence. Jack just walks right up to Cas, puts his arms around him and tells him how much he missed him. Its as if they’d never been apart. And afterwards they spend nearly the entire episode practically inseparable. Getting to know each other as father and son. And that goes without saying, while Jack did bond with the Winchesters in person first, there is no comparison to the Nephilim boy’s emotional attachment towards the angel.

This special relationship is very significant to both of them. Around each other they’re at their most happiest. Castiel is constantly at Jack’s side; and ALMOST ALWAYS tenderly touching him, namely his shoulders or protectively holding him by the arm and the child wholly reciprocates this. In Castiel’s gentle physical touch Jack is given a sense of security, solace, reassurance and comfort. Same as he’d had as an unborn baby. Not only is this the angel’s way of demonstrating his affection, empathy and devotion towards his son but this is actually how he non-verbally tells Jack that he loves him. Its purely unconditional. And this gesture isn’t one-sided as I will acknowledge later. Jack desires Cas’s tangible nearness as much as his dad does which is why they’re so magnetically pulled together in all of their scenes on the show.

Even when they’re at conflict with each other or arguing, Castiel never fails to let Jack know that he’s always safe and loved. That he isn’t afraid of him. His son could be in pain, angry, or vengeful in the moment and Castiel’s affection for that child will never waver. He’ll endlessly put his own life at risk in order to reach Jack; who is far more powerful than he is via his archangel half. Like the convivence store scene in 13x23 when Jack attacks a civilian believing he’d killed his friend and Cas does his best to subdue him. Whether Jack wants it or not at the time, he needs his dad’s emotional support; and the angel can’t stand the thought of his son harmed or hurting. He’s easily saddened whenever Jack refuses his touch as shown in 13x21 when he was very upset over Sam’s temporary death and rips away Cas’s hand as he’s trying to console him.

Supernatural really emphasizes the powerful connection Castiel and Jack share using physical communication in nearly every one of their episodes. Its these wonderful details they do onscreen that illustrates the depth of love these characters have for each other. Unfortunately though, they didn’t get to interact much during season 13. Yet the small portions in their four episodes together is exceptionally substantial. While we’re on the subject, the shoulder touches are definitely a Dadstiel thing. It’s their signature sign of affection and theirs’s only. Don’t believe me, let me give you an example of a specific scene in 14x19 between Jack and Sam; which takes place in the aftermath of Jack’s accidental killing of the Winchesters’ mother Mary.

Dean and Sam conspire to trick and lock away the soulless infant Nephilim in a mystical coffin as punishment with the intention of finding a solution that will end his life. Sam is the reluctant main player in this scheme of using his influence over the child in order to gain his trust and sway him into his fate. Just before Jack’s about to be led to the room and put into the box, scared and uncertain, Sam then puts his hand on his shoulder telling him they need to keep him safe while giving him an awkward grin. And look at Jack’s expression as this happens. It reads shattered. He immediately knows something’s wrong. Sam is touching him just like Castiel…except this is nothing like Castiel. His dad’s shoulder touches are always so tender and loving.

Jack can literally feel Cas’s devotion for him in every tangibility. But here he doesn’t feel that from Sam at all. Its cold, fearful and empty just like he is on the inside. Rendering him even more nervous. Speaking of season 14 the father/son content we get between Castiel and Jack is even better that year as its all about their relationship growing and strengthening into something far deeper than it was in the previous seasons 12 and 13. It’s the year their bond is put through the ultimate test. Where Jack is made human after Lucifer steals his grace and Cas dominantly steps into his role as a father.

Providing Jack with a certain guidance, boundaries, and stability in episodes 14x01, 14x02, 14x03, 14x09 and 14x10 unlike what he’d received from Sam and Dean. Castiel takes on all the difficult tasks of parenting ranging from scolding to teaching his son about death, responsibility, self-restraint, patience and the tribulations of growing up. He doesn’t raise his voice ever when he speaks to Jack. And is completely there 100% for his son from the beginning…and the end of his life. Although Castiel is an angel he is very much a pivotal link to Jack’s humanity and vice versa as well as a link to his celestial side. While he greatly admires and looks up to the Winchesters, its through Cas’s influence that the infant Nephilim aspires to be a good person.

Jack never wants to become the monster his biological father was; desperate to break out of that mold once in for all. And he isn’t alone. Castiel is right there with Jack every step of the way. Ready to challenge and encourage his son whenever he does something decent or makes a mistake. He doesn’t hesitate to tell his son when he’s proud of him. And sometimes he’s there to coddle Jack during times of crisis as displayed in the 14x09 showdown with AU!Michael where the angel takes a second to heal Jack’s minor facial wounds. I just love that tiny focal point of Cas in the background, as the Winchesters are talking, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder before using his powers on him. As if to keep him calm; like a parent reassuring their nervous kid that it won’t hurt.

Throughout the first part of season 14 we’re blessed with so much affectionate Dadstiel moments like the after-the-battle angst talk in 14x01 where Castiel reminds a very frustrated Jack “you’ve got me” as he declares he has nothing. Or 14x08 after Jack’s death and they’re bittersweetly reunited in Heaven with Kelly; all smiles, touching shoulders and hugging each other as if they can’t bear to be separated. Followed with that heartfelt moment of Castiel tenderly touching his son’s cheeks, sadly looking at him with so much adoration, as he sends his soul back to his body. Then there was their unforgettable father/son pep talk in regards to the vulnerability of Jack’s soul; Castiel just gives his son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he leaves the room. Again, this is how these two say “I love you”.

And I couldn’t very go in depth of this analysis without mentioning 14x20′s Jack death scene 2.0; Castiel helplessly touches his son, who’s screaming on the ground in agony, trying desperately to ease his suffering. Yah this was particularly very hard for me to watch witnessing Castiel going out of his mind, completely unable to save Jack from enduring such a painful end to his life. Once was already cruel enough on me. And of course 15x01 continued that vicious trend of Castiel harrowingly protecting his son’s corpse, carrying him over the shoulder in a fireman’s hold as he runs through the cemetery, then gently lays him down on the floor in a mausoleum. I get emotional watching Cas cradling Jack’s head as he positions him comfortably; letting his touch linger unable to let go. He doesn’t even care what happens to him in this moment as long as his son’s body is safe. Very strong symbolism of a parent who will never abandon their child long after they’re gone.

On a side note I want to quickly call attention to how much I revere the Dadstiel healing parallels in 14x09 and 14x14 plus BONUS: Jack almost-killing Castiel in 15x13 so he can talk to Ruby in the Empty. These just add some nice little textures in their dynamic which compliments their ongoing tradition of showing devotion through physical communication. And both the healing scenes and the temporary death scene are composited very similarly. Focused on Castiel and Jack’s hands in the process of relieving the other’s pain/life.

Touch is exhibited as being a very crucial element for both of these characters when it comes to their iron-clad relationship. That palpable part of Castiel and Jack’s connection keeps them closely-knit. Its their familial instinct and how they express their feelings for each other. If they aren’t kneading shoulders, the angel duo is often standing beside each other or firmly linked at the arms. And this usually happens during moments of extreme stress, joy, sorrow, pain or fear. Jack relies so much on Castiel’s parental presence. He respects his authority, disobeying only when his actions feel necessary, and will go to the angel whenever he wants to talk or vent. Jack is also comfortable with Castiel enough to confide his darkest secrets no matter how awful they are. That’s the foundation of the everlasting trust built between them. They’re just tethered to one another in such a way that nothing will divide them.

I’ll begin with the hospital scene from 14x07 where Castiel is being the rock to his ailing son who can barely stand on his feet. There’s so much anxiety radiating off him in this moment as he struggles with watching Jack suffer; holding him so close. Staring at his face you can tell this horrible situation is ripping him apart. Actually, the entire episode is basically just Castiel silently enduring the pain of Jack dying.

The second set of screencaps underneath are of 14x10; Jack is agitated by AU!Michael’s antagonistic claims that his family’s love for him isn’t unconditional. Reading into one of his greatest fears. But then Castiel instantly calls out to his son, grabs the crook of his arm; gently reassuring him none of this is true. And Jack doesn’t resist this as he knows his dad is sincere. He never has to question Cas’s feelings towards him as his physical touch alone is self-explanatory. But when it comes to the Winchesters, that’s a whole other conversation.

Next, we have one of my favorite emotionally-charged Dadstiel moments in 14x14; where in a fit of panic because the anti venom wasn’t working Jack, going against Castiel’s warnings not to risk burning off his soul, is compelled to use his powers to save his dad. And I love this because this time its Jack who’s the one initiating all the physical contact. Just as the recovered angel demands what he’s done, his son responds with a soft “you’re okay” and the “I love you dad” shoulder touch as well as firmly gripping his arm.

Finally stepping away from season 14 I’m going to briefly go over the caps from season 15. Let’s begin with 15x11 the Dadstiel reunion scene at the church which is so beautifully poignant. Castiel is so overjoyed to see Jack alive that he takes a second to look over his equally stunned son, touching his shoulders before they embrace. This is by far one of Cas and Jack’s top father/son moments on the show and it’s done so effectively. If you want a more in-depth description for what I love about this scene, you can read my post about it here.

After that is the 15x13 Dadstiel moment where Castiel, suspicious of Jo’s story about the Occultum, had asked Jack to temporarily kill him in order to go see Ruby in the Empty. Two things I really like about this; 1. even though Jack still doesn’t have a soul, is very concerned about and protective over Castiel because of that deal. And 2. again Jack is initiating all the touching in this scene; look at the way he grasps his dad’s arm as he returns him to life. It’s almost as if he’s hoping the touch of his hand will not only speed up the process but also reach his dad so his essence isn’t lost forever.

And then we have 15x17. We didn’t get much Dadstiel interaction in this episode but the amount of times Castiel protectively holds onto his agonized child, who’d been turned into a cosmic bomb about to go off any minute, having no regard for the danger he’s in is so visually gut-wrenching. There’s a specific moment in the scene where, as Sam and Dean are arguing, Castiel is sitting on the floor just clutching Jack tight. Trying to non-verbally soothe him.

And this is followed up in the first half of 15x18, aka THEIR VERY LAST EPISODE TOGETHER ever on Supernatural. Here is where everything about their connection comes full circle with Castiel refusing to abandon Jack no matter the situation. Demonstrating the extent of his devotion by willing to die for his child just as he’d sacrificed his happiness to save Jack from the Empty. Because that is his son and nothing not even death itself can ever destroy what they have. Much as the young Nephilim boy begs for his dad to stay away, yells that he doesn’t want to hurt him; Castiel kneeling to Jack’s eye-level doesn’t leave his side. Then when Jack disappears to the Empty and reappears back at the bunker reformed, Castiel’s hand remains firmly glued to his son’s shoulder. He doesn’t want Jack to feel afraid or traumatized any further.

This was such an intense part of the episode I mean just look at how stressed out these two were. The anguish in their expressions. Simply put, Cas and Jack cannot bare to live without the other. They’re each other’s home; two sides of the same soul. Castiel loves all of Jack; the good, the bad and the ugly. This is an EPIC father and son’s love that knows no bounds. So powerful and pure that it transcended the loss of Jack’s soul, Lucifer’s DNA, the Empty, Mary Winchester’s death and everything else in between. Oh, and guess what, their “I love you” Dadstiel shoulder touches aren’t limited to just their hands. Its in every single one of their hugs too.

Notice how their chins or faces just comfortably rest on top of each other’s shoulders. And except for 14x20 their eyes are shut, as if to savor every single second of that closeness. Jack just buries himself against Castiel like he’s never felt safer with anyone else in the whole universe. And both of them hold each other; giving and receiving the other’s love with their whole self. Like I can’t even begin to describe how much Castiel and Jack’s softness towards each other just melts my heart. Their relationship, despite the horror tongue-in-cheek atmosphere of SPN, is surprisingly sweet, healthy and endearing. They are the epitome of true unconditional love and a great contrast to the Winchester brothers. In my humble opinion Castiel and Jack’s father/son dynamic is the best thing to happen to this show in a long while.

For the closing segment of this analysis I want to do something special before I discuss the paralleled-angst driven Dadstiel shoulder touches in 15x15 and 15x18. First off, I can’t shout enough praise from the rooftops about the insanely remarkable chemistry between Alexander Calvert and Misha Collins. Just brilliant casting. They embody these characters heart and soul and make this relationship feel so real, genuine and grounded. The fact that they look so similar in appearance really sells the idea that these two could actually be father and son. Forget the scripts, the quiet subtly these two bring to Castiel and Jack is the true magic of their relationship.

Let me start with the Dadstiel centric 15x15 aka THE BEST EPISODE of Supernatural season 15. This amazing masterpiece of art is everything I could’ve asked for and more; giving me so much precious father/son content that I will cherish forever. I really enjoyed seeing Castiel and Jack in those matching ties, bonding with each other over a case while they save the day. It’s a shame this show never let these two have more solo adventures together because they’re truly a joy to watch onscreen. Fingers crossed for that spinoff.

But I digress, the car scene in question happens at the very end of the episode in which Jack reveals the alarming truth that he has to die in order to stop Chuck and Amara. And Castiel, visibly and outspokenly distraught by this news, has to be assuaged with that infamous shoulder touch by his son; who’s in just as much pain. This is without a doubt one of most emotional scenes between these two characters out of the last three seasons of the show and quite possibly one of Misha and Alex’s strongest acting moments after the Dadstiel church reunion in 15x11. They killed it with the feels here. I like the attention to detail, the shadows and the colors in the shot, the melancholic score as well as how it seamlessly switches from Jack’s perspective to Castiel’s. Seriously watching this scene always makes me cry its so devastating.

Lastly, we have the Dadstiel car scene in 15x18; and Castiel and Jack’s LAST ONE-ON-ONE together. I’m kind of disappointed by this if I’m being honest. Its not that its bad its just not that definitively great for a final scene between these characters. Especially after four seasons of development. Where are the stakes? Why don’t Jack and Castiel seem as concerned about their situation? Cute as that smile was it doesn’t fit the tone. And where’s that punch in the gut knowing something is going to separate these two any second? It’s too light and doesn’t come off like a goodbye or a cathartic bookend which is what I wanted to take away from the episode considering its title “Despair”.

I mean if they were going to follow up on that heartbreaking car scene at the end of “Gimme Shelter”, the 15x18 scene wasn’t the way to do it. So, the weight of this final interaction feels almost non-existent. Maybe if it had taken place at night and the dialogue solely focused on them not the Winchesters it would’ve faired better. But since this isn’t a rant post I’ll cut to the chase by saying that the only saving grace this moment has happens in the last part. Jack’s in tears telling his dad how scared he is that he can’t use his powers to protect anyone. Coming off very childlike and vulnerable; needing that parental protection that Castiel was always known for. And sure enough, he gives Jack that final “I love you” shoulder touch which I swear had me choked a little.

Rethinking about it now that the show is over actually makes their final moment together really sad as incomplete as it is. I not only look back on how much these characters were drastically underutilized but how much the Dadstiel storyline could’ve been executed better with all the development that it was given. Well there you have it my full Dadstiel shoulder-touch analysis. Hope you’ve enjoyed!

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disneydeb1928 · 4 years ago

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One Piece Theory: Ancient Moon Kingdom

I began this theory, with a broader concept: “The Importance of the Moon in One Piece”. Within it, I was going to discuss all the ways that the moon is connected to the story of one piece. However, after beginning, I realized that I had already written a substantial amount on the first segment I wanted to discuss. So, I figured, I would just let it be its own discussion post, that I could refer back to once I get around to finishing the original concept.

With that being said, for this, I wanted to focus on a cover story: Enel’s Great Space Operations.

Summary: [Taken from Wiki] Having finally reached the moon, Enel encounters a group of small robots known as automata, as well as a vicious group of Space Pirates. After a series of events, Enel's Goro Goro no Mi powers wind up activating not only all of the automata, but their city as well, and the self-proclaimed God discovers his true roots.

The span of these covers occurred during the events of Thriller Bark and I would encourage you to read this story if you haven’t already.

Ancient Moon Civilization & Skypiea

Enel discovers, through the paintings on the wall, that there was an ancient city on the moon named Birka, where technology was highly advanced. This city was where the Skypieans, Shandorians, and Birkans hailed from. One day (at least 1,100 years ago), the three groups left the moon and headed to Earth due to lack of resources, leaving the Automata behind.

· Skypieans - Settled in the Sky Islands

· Shandorians - Made it as far as the Blue Sea and settled on the island of Jaya

· Birkans - Settled on a sky island far to the southeast from Skypiea

The Automata

The Automata are robot-like creatures that were created before the three angel races left the moon. What is interesting, is that, the art depicting this event shows both the angel races and the automata crying.

This would seem to indicate that the angel races weren’t happy that they had to leave the Automata behind and that it, perhaps, wasn’t by choice. There are a lot of reasons why a race of people would leave behind something they clearly loved. I think many people like to jump to the ‘they were left behind to protect something’, which is definitely a possibility. This could also explain what the space pirates were doing excavating in the first place. That could explain why their city was underground despite the wings on their back.

What is also interesting, is that, from the pictures, it seems as if that Automata were left on the moon awake. However, when we see them in the cover story (Ch. 468) it looks like they’ve been put into storage.

I find it interesting that there are depictions of what appear to be a lobster and a sea king (?) on the wall. In our world, I know that water can exist on the moon, but I don’t think they’ve ever confirmed the possible existence of oceans.

Finally, if you take a look at the balloon type instruments in their hands, you can make the assumption that that is how they traveled to earth. I say this, because this is how the Automata from earth managed to make it to the moon after the professor’s death.

The Space Pirates

As seen in the cover story, the Space Pirates are a group of animal-like aliens. Along with other strange creatures, they appear to mine the moon for anything they can find.

Connection to the Minks Theory

I think, visually, these so called ‘space pirates’ are very interesting. For starters, let’s explore their possible connection with the Mink Race. Both these two group of creatures share resemblance to animals. The first space pirate we are introduced to has a fox-like resemblance, according to the wiki. Interestingly enough, we have been introduced to a Fox Mink named Concelot.

Chapter 441 vs Concelot

Clearly there are some obvious differences, the main one being the shape of their snout. However, I definitely think they could pass as both being Fox Mink. I personally feel like the space pirate looks like a coyote, but a fox could work too. Some of the other possible animals include 2 alligators / crocodiles and one that looks like some type of bear-creature.

Another similarity is their use of electricity. All minks are able, though unknown means, to produce electric shocks known as Electro. They can emit this from their bodies or through weapons, such as swords and spears. This could be what the space pirate is using in the picture above.

Thirdly, the Mink Tribe is heavily influenced by the moon. It is through a full moon that they are able to enter into their Sulong form. It would make sense, that they have a deep rooted connection to the moon itself.

Cyborg Theory / Steampunk Elements

One of the most glaring details regarding these space pirates outside of their animalistic appearance are the circular devices that are located throughout their bodies. At first I thought these were clocks, but upon further inspection they are definitely gauges (in the red).

Another instance where we see a similar design of a gauge is when Lindbergh, one of the commanders of the Revolutionary Army is introduced. The design is the exact same.

Ironically (or possibly further evidence of a connection?), he is a short cat Mink.

[Note: It is supposed that Lindbergh was named after Charles Lindbergh, a man who was famous for making a nonstop flight from New York to Paris.]

Just for some background (and by that, I mean what I found on the internet), mechanical gauges are instruments that measure pressure, dimensions, levels, etc. Pressure gauges are used for checking the pressure of steam. Aesthetically, pressure gauges are very popular in steampunk fashion, which is where Oda seems to pull from, visually, when drawing the members of the Revolutionary Army. For example, the goggles that all of the RA members where are a staple of steampunk fashion. Steampunk, according to Wikipedia is “retrofuturistic” that “incorporates technology and aesthetic designs inspired by 19th-century industrial steam-powered machinery”. It is most commonly seen in science fiction. Science fiction usually deals with imaginative and futuristic concepts, one of the most popular being space exploration and extraterrestrial life.

Is it possible that Lindbergh is from space? Yeah, at this point, I think anything is possible.

I have seen some people theorize that the gauges indicates the space pirates are some form of robots, which is also very possible. But that would lead to the question: Who built them? (more on that below)

The Connection to Vegapunk and Future Stories

Okay, this is when things begin to rev up. During Enel’s backstory, we learn that the current Automata (Spacey) was created by a man named Professor Tsukimi. In fact, he refers to that memory as “the day when I was born on Karakuri Island” (Ch. 448, Cover Story).

The first thing that needs to be addressed is that Spacey makes it sound as if he and the other three Automata were created from scratch and not discovered and fixed (The fact that they are slightly larger than the Automata found in hibernation on the moon and lack wings could be proof of this fact). This would mean that Tsukimi would need to have a point of reference to base his creations from. Furthermore, he would had to have a knowledge of the history of the moon and its Automata. According to the history recorded on the walls of Birka, all of the Automata were left behind on the moon (something all parties seemed very sad about). There are really only three places he could have gotten this knowledge:

1.) Traveling to the moon and seeing the history on the walls himself / Knowing someone who did

2.) Being there to experience it himself

3.) Through visiting Skypiea or the ruins of Shandora himself / Knowing someone who traveled there

All of these are technically possible (especially knowing One Piece). However, if you take a closer look at Tsukimi, it might shed some light on the subject.

On his robe, he has a small picture of a cloud. In the world of One Piece, we usually connect that back to Skypiea. Therefore, I think we are supposed to make the assumption that this old man has some connection to Skypiea / Shandora. However, the question still remains: Where did he get this information? After Shandora was defeated during the Void Century, a lot of their own history seems lost to them. Enel appeared to be the only one who believed in “Fairy Vearth”s existence. Most of Jaya doesn’t even believe of Skypiea’s existence. I also think it should be noted, that it’s not like he could have heard a story and create creatures that are so similar to the ones on the moon (at least, not to the scale at which he did). That man must have gotten hold of some type of schematics or have had previous run ins with similar Automata.

Secondly, if you needed another reason as to why this man will most likely be important later on in the story, just take a look at where it says he was from: Karakuri Island. Sound familiar? It should, because not only is it the island that Franky was sent to during the timeskip, but it is also the home of the infamous Doctor Vegapunk.

Brief Pause for Timeline Speculation

Another interesting thing to point out is, we are given no reference to where in the timeline the events of the Automata’s flashback occurred. All we can say definitely is that it occurred before the events of Thriller Bark (since that is when these cover pages were published). However, it is possible that the weather could gives us some hints. We know that Vegapunk once tried to install an in-ground heating system for his kingdom. That, plus the images we get of the island when Franky lands there seems to confirm that it is a winter island. I suppose it’s possible that it’s only cold during some parts of the year, but then why go to all the trouble of trying to control the weather? No, I think it’s safe to say that Karakuri island is usually snowy and cold. However, the Karakuri island we see in the Automata’s flashback paints a very different picture. There doesn’t appear to be any snow on the ground, and the foliage is drastically different to the one we see during Franky’s time on the island.

You see what appears to be bamboo in the panel above and even sakura petals during the funeral scene. It is totally possible that since these were published so in advanced to Franky’s trip to the island, that Oda hadn’t made up his mind on the design of the island and that could explain the differences.

However, we do know that the space pirates were already excavating on the moon at this point, since one of their explosions is what killed Tsukimi. This would actually lean towards the occurrences of their flashback occurring closer to the current storyline. Because, how long would it really take for the space pirates to find the ruins of the ancient moon kingdom? Not hundreds of years.

Resuming Actual Theory

Vegapunk is a character shrouded in mystery. Truly, the amount of information we have on Vegapunk is barely enough to fill his wiki page. He has yet to make an appearance in the story himself, however we get our first look at him that really only consists of his upper torso. In addition, one of the G-5 Marines states that he is an "old man", suggesting he is at an elderly age (Ch. 658).

However, during Punk Hazard, during Caesar Clown’s flashback, we get this figure on the side of the page that is supposedly of Vegapunk. Interestingly enough, this was replaced in the anime with a more innocuous shot of his arm.

I remember that this panel caused a lot of discussion when it came out. Because, if what we are looking at is Vegapunks head, that has a lot of implications towards the plot. For starters, let’s take a look at the different sections and their proportions.

If this is, in fact, a silhouette of his head and not Oda just throwing us for a loop, then he has a noticeably large forehead. Now, if you’re thinking ‘that isn’t crazy for the world of One Piece’, you would be 100% correct. Besides, Tsukimi has a crazy shaped head as well and they’re both from the same island. So, why is this important? Because, we have other pieces of the puzzle that help form a larger picture.

A.) Koby mentioned to Luffy that Dr. Vegapunk is at least 500 years ahead of current technology (Ch. 433) and we know from Franky’s time there, that Baldimore, the kingdom on Karakuri Island is known as the “future land” and that it specializes in advanced technology. It is unclear whether the kingdom earned that moniker due to Vegapunk’s infamy or whether it existed previously. Either way, it produced two geniuses (Vegapunk and Tsukimi).

B.) Tsukimi was able to create 4 Automata to almost the exact likeness of the ones on the moon

C.) Vegapunk has previously created animal cyborgs on Karakuri

D.) Vegapunk’s large forehead, while not unusual in the world of One Piece bears a striking resemblance to the jolly roger of the Space Pirates

E.) Many believe that the pressure gauges located across the Space Pirates bodies indicate that they are some type of cyborg (possible even based off of the monk race)

Is Vegapunk from space? Did he, during his travels as a young man, make the trip to the moon where he found the ruins of the ancient civilization and created cyborgs with the technology found there? No one but Oda knows. However, I will say this: I believe there are too many things connecting these stories together for them to be considered coincidences. These characters are related in some shape or form. Given the fact that this cover story ties directly back to Vegapunk we know that it’s going to be important, because we know that Vegapunk is important. If this side story is going to become pertinent later down the line, it is going to be through him.

#My OP Theories #one piece theory #one piece theories #op theory #op theories #one piece #op #the moon #enel #vegapunk #dr. vegapunk #ancient moon kingdom #karakuri island #franky #tsukimi #space pirates

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sickenoughsteve · 6 years ago

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An Official Takedown of the ‘I Don’t Like LA, Traffic Sucks and Everyone is Fake’ Myth and An Unbiased Breakdown of LA Bullsh*t Being the Best Brand of Bullsh*t

OK, I’m back and ready to address something that’s been bugging me throughout my life. LA slander.

Not to sound like Trump, but my goal here is to try to convince the haters and losers - of which there are many - that while LA (hometown of Blueface) may have an unshakeable stigma attached to it, it nevertheless remains a world-class city with something for everyone. And I mean everyone. Look at this dude who I’ve literally let cut my hair not once but twice.

(The cuts were FIRE)

The fact that I have to clarify that those are tattoos and not face paint already tells you all you need to know about the fact that he’s fully bought into the LA Bullshit (which I’ll dive into later).

At the risk of sounding like I work for Zagat, let me go ahead and list several pros without addressing a single con about the city. It has, among many other things, a diverse population, way more thriving industries than just entertainment, the best weed, the most seamless integration of skater bros into the mainstream, the cutest dogs, fucking space, smarter people than you’d think, and proximity to other dope places, making it a generally fine place to live.

I guess that’s the tl;dr here: I’m not here to say LA is the best city. I’m here to defend LA from the unjust slander it so often receives.

As a native Angeleno from Brentwood who went to high school in North Hollywood, it was in Northern California for college where for the first time I was often told I wasn’t *actually* from LA by people who’d never stepped foot in the sprawling city. They were coming at me vicious with little to no context besides maybe a map that said Downtown Los Angeles is Los Angeles.

Also, without diving into it as it probably needs a separate article, I finally got a glimpse into the big brother, little brother “holier than thou” LA/SF relationship.

Since then, I’ve been (in my opinion) justifiably defensive about the city and its many surrounding neighborhoods. I mean, sure, my experience was one that took place in a sheltered bubble and I’m a bit of a bougie narcissist. But isn’t that as LA as it gets?

Haters not only don’t understand the city, but they come with preconceived judgy notions of how they’ll like it before even giving it a chance. That or their hopes, ambitions, and impatience are so substantial that they’re inevitably let down by a place that still.. in the end... is just a place. Living in LA won’t make you cooler. If you just want to spend money and seem cool, go to Vegas.

I mean, let’s get one thing straight. Everybody here is awful. Literally everyone. Are you reading this, live in LA and don’t think you’re awful? Then you’re the worst.

We’re bad people. But that’s what makes this place tick. We all know it.

We all understand the struggle and share a commonality that no matter how much money we make, how good our bodies start to look, and how fucking cool we are, there will always be someone richer, sexier, better dressed and more effortlessly dope than you. You’ll be reminded of that every day walking down the dang street. And that can make you feel pretty insecure and judgy for sure.

It can even make you feel truly alone and borderline psychotic.

But the people who start to lean into LA, lean into the LA Bullshit. So go ahead and do it with me. Indulge me and let me explain the best I can why this city is popping.

Stephen, what the hell is LA Bullshit?

Glad you asked, reader.

LA Bullshit is eating only items from the above photo but also smoking opium.

LA Bullshit is an expensive birthday party for someone’s dog.

LA Bullshit is running into Lil Nas X on Abbot Kinney.

LA Bullshit is dressing like a bum and still having money.

LA Bullshit is being 2 degrees of separation from almost any famous person.

LA Bullshit is having 500k Instagram followers but consistent overdraft charges on your debit card.

LA Bullshit is the fact that every single person of importance is forced to begrudgingly show face here for some reason or another at some point in their life. Usually on several occasions.

LA Bullshit is the admissions scandal.

LA Bullshit is our crushingly real homelessness problem.

LA Bullshit is not always something to be proud of, but it’s rare that there isn’t at least a tiny element of love somewhere beneath it all.

But yeah, traffic or whatever.

Traffic is bad, I know, but that’s lowkey YOUR fault

Thanks for moving to LA asshole. You and your 8 improv partners just put 9 more cars on the road.

People come here in droves every year trying to make it. This city chews people up and spits them out, but there is beauty in trusting the process and maybe that’s why the traffic in some ways can be enlightening.

We’re all in this together. We’re gridlocked on the 405, debating whether our decision to try our luck here was even worth it. Or if it ever will be. But more people come than go, every single day. And while that might mean our commute is a tad bit more stressful, I choose to believe that’s a good thing.

Much like traffic, like clockwork, if we stick with it, we’ll end up getting where we need to go.

Speaking of people, yes we are fake.

Newsflash: There are fake people in LA

Duh.

I already made this point earlier, but we are bad, bad people. Obsessed with image and maybe we’re not as deep as you and your family. Own that, feel better about yourself because of it. You are better than us. You won.

And for the record, wherever you are from has bullshit too. We just have better less-concealed bullshit than you.

Now pass the Kale chips.

And don’t look me in the eye.

Everyone is welcome here

Whether your view of LA is La La Land or Straight Outta Compton or Pulp Fiction or Training Day or The Big Lebowski or Beverly Hills Cop or Pretty Woman or almost any other kind of film you could imagine that was set here... you can experience this city and grow with it any way you see fit.

LA is not easy to put into a box. It’s everything and nothing all at once. It’s likely that if you stay here long enough, you’ll figure out and be able to appreciate this unexplainable attraction you might learn to have for the City of Angels. And I hope you do.

I really do.

I’ll leave you with this

"Look, from fucking hood rats to fucking stars/Spending all cash, to sliding cards/It's the definition of living large/Smoking top flight in the biggest cars/Told you '08 this shit was ours/Getting this cake, yeah nigga then getting more/Look at this world young nigga, this really yours/Nigga this really mine, my niggas is really for it, them buildings is really high/them cars is really foreign" —Nipsey Hussle ‘Ocean Views’

I would be remiss to write an LA-focused post without at least mentioning Nipsey who was truly the epitome of LA, especially black LA. At 33 years old, he was taken away from us way too soon.

One of my biggest regrets was believing since he had focused so much attention on his neighborhood and LA, owning the rights to his music, not kowtowing to a record label, and supporting black-owned businesses he maybe had “missed his window” as an artist. I thought he could’ve been as big as another one of his great contemporary west coast artists, YG. More pop. But the outpouring of love and support after his passing proved to me I was dead wrong.

He was a walking talking advocate for the city and did it his way. He was truly good in every hood and he’s a legend that will be remembered from Crenshaw/Slauson and beyond.

#los angeles #nipsey hussle #nipsey #city

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collateralfiction · 6 years ago

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Bailey

Squinting my eyes against the harsh sunlight that was beaming through the window, I turned my head to the side, burying my face deeper into Adrian’s chest. From his chest lightly rising and falling, I knew he was still asleep. Sighing softly, I turned my head on the side instead, watching the beautiful view of the sun and how well it meshed with the skylines. After bowling, we as a group had dinner on the pier but it was nothing short of tension filled. Whether they wanted to admit that or not is up to them, but I certainly felt the different vibes that was roaming around the table. Adrian barely spoke to anyone beside Austin and me when he wanted to. Justine stuck by Caiden side the whole time, slightly making Adrian look at them suspiciously but not enough to question it just yet. Even August was being a bit strange. No one is speaking on it, so I don’t know what the problem is. But knowing these group of people, anything can happen at any given moment. Anyhow, after that, I tagged along with Caiden and Justin to the local tattoo parlor. That would have been a perfect time to get my matching tattoo along with my mother and sister but instead, I got a flash tattoo. It took less than an hour to complete and I was more than satisfied with the results.

“Adrian,” I cooed lightly, tapping his neck annoyingly. It doesn’t take much to bother him and I seem to work his last nerve all the time. Groaning, he swatted my hand away with ease and positioned himself so he was now the one lying on me with his hands pinning my arms down by my side. “It’s already ten if you didn’t know, Adrian,” I mumbled, feeling his morning wood on my inner thigh.

“Give me five minutes, shit,” he grumbled.

“Okay, well, let me go. I’m hungry,” I complained, feeling his grip on my arm loosen. I slid out of the bed slowly and slipped on my pajama shorts before slowly making my way outside of the room. I continued to walk until I made it towards the kitchen where a buffet of food was placed along the kitchen counter. The employees made sure every day we were catered to so they could avoid any complaints. What I didn’t notice was that Justine was already at the table eating. She had on a pair of Beats headphone and her attention was focused solely on her phone along with her plate of food. Ever since she brushed off my attempt at trying to listen to her when she was clearly down, communication between the two of us ceased completely. There was the occasional few words here and there but other than that, it was nothing substantial.

With a small sigh, I began to fill my plate with what I desired before grabbing the jug of Pink Lemonade and pouring a good amount. I considered whether I should sit at the table or head back to the bedroom but the former chose seemed more convenient, so I sat on the other end of Justine, opposite side. It wasn’t until I sat down completely, and my plate made a sound against the glass table did she notice me. Normally, I would have offered up a small smile or hello but lately when I do, it’s not returned so there is no point in me doing it anymore.

It was never that hard for me to mind my business and ignore something that I didn’t want to pay attention to, but it was becoming a tad bit difficult with Justine staring at me every so often. It appeared to look like she had a problem with me but yet again, she wasn’t speaking up either and there was no way I could read anyone’s mind. “How much longer will you be here for?” Justine questioned. I looked at her through the corner of my eye, not sure what her question was aiming to do or mean.

“Does it matter to you?” I asked. “You weren’t concerned about it a few months ago,”

“That’s because you weren’t directly fucking up my life. Thanks a lot, Bailey. You’re the best,” she said sarcastically. I was taken aback at her sudden attitude towards me and how harsh she was being to begin with. Where this anger came from, I had no idea, but I wanted to find out. She had been so nice and warm every day prior to this with not the slightest hint of her possibly being angry at me. Was her anger even directed at the right person? I don’t think so. But if she does have a legit reason as to being angry at me, why didn’t she speak sooner? Like when I asked what’s wrong a few days ago? Biting down on my bottom lip, I refrained from saying anything that just might hurt her feelings. This was one of the main reasons why I had mostly boys as my friends. As cliché as it is, they were less difficult to talk to. They were either 100% blunt or 100% goofy, there was no in between with them. Unlike boys, there’s a whole range of emotions that aren’t as easy to deal with. I didn’t have it in me to deal with her attitude so early in the morning. Walking away hurriedly, I almost bumped into Adrian before he caught me by my forearms.

All it took was one look for him to notice something was wrong and as if on cue, he asked, “What’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“Don’t lie to me,” he gritted.

“I’m not, Adrian. I just don’t appreciate your sister having an attitude with me for no reason at all,” I scoffed, snatching my arm away from him. He looked at me through squinted eyes before nodding his head slowly. As much as she may be going through something difficult, so was I and in no way should I be on the receiving end of her hatred. Without saying anything, he grabbed ahold of my small hand in his and pulled me back in the direction of the kitchen and I couldn’t help the tired expression that showed on my face. As suspected, she sat at the table still as if she didn’t say anything out of line. This time, at the sound of more than one pair of feet nearing her, she popped her headphones off and stared between Adrian and me.

“I don’t have time for your fake bullshit, Justine. If you not ‘bout to speak, don’t stare,” Adrian stated rudely, slightly surprising me. I mean, he could be very vicious with his words. That was no secret, but I did expect for him to take it somewhat easy on his own sister, but he was just as blunt as he was with anyone else. I want to say that it’s contributed because of how stressed he is and how Justine has been acting lately but I can’t be too sure. I squeezed his hand a little tighter, not wanting him to completely go off on his sister this early in the morning where people are around and could overhear. Besides, even if Justine and I were at odds, I would never want to see the demise of their relationship. They were all they had left. I whispered for him to stop and it worked somewhat but now they were just in an intense standoff, neither one looking away. “Go sit and eat,” Adrian muttered, keeping his attention solely on his fuming sister.

Like a weak puppy, I listened and traipsed towards my somewhat warm meal, grabbed it and placed it in the microwave to warm it up some more. Adrian grabbed a few warm butter biscuits off the platter and opted for taking an ice-cold bottle of water with him to the table. There, the two siblings continued to stare at one another, and it was starting to make me slightly uncomfortable. Licking my lips, I sat in my original seat which was beside him and began to eat once more. “When were you going to tell me you had Bailey fucking with Lonnie behind my back?” My eyes widened at her question but not once did Adrian falter or look concerned. In his eyes, what’s done is done and there was no taking it back either.

“I didn’t have to,” he stated with a shrug. “I’m not obligated to tell you anything as far as I’m concerned. I’m a grown man and I do what I please. You know nothing you say has an influence over me so don’t sit here and act like you’re mad because of that,” he spoke evenly, lacking all types of emotions. He wasn’t fazed in the least bit by Justine and once again, it pained me to witness this. I felt the need that I should leave and give them their space, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if I did. So, I stayed seated, watching two angry people go at it.

“And what is the point of this? To prove that I was stupid to bother with a dude like Lonnie, huh?” she snapped.

“Yes,” I tore my eyes away from my barely touched plate of food and onto Justine’s face. For a split second, I witnessed the sadness in her eyes before it took over her whole face. It was possible that Adrian’s one worded answer was true but there was another part of me that believed he only said that to get under his sister’s skin and to infuriate her which he easily did. I could literally see her caving right before me. “I don’t know why you stand up for this nigga so fucking hard. He hasn’t done shit for you besides help make Austin. But when is the last time he’s seen his own son? You’re forcing this nigga to do something he clearly doesn’t want. Why?” Adrian asked sternly. “You still talking to this nigga?” By the silence that came from Justine, that was all the confirmation Adrian needed. He shook his head in disappointment. “You will never learn, will you? You prove my point every day,”

“Fuck you, Adrian!” she spat. “You’ve done nothing but bring me down and everyone else!”

“You do that on your own,” While Justine was drowning in hysteria and loudness, Adrian remained with his cool exterior. “But so what? You’re this angered because Bailey was working against Lonnie? Fuck outta here. Yeah, she was dating Lonnie and you know what? Not once did you ever cross his mind. Now what the hell does that tell you? He doesn’t give a fuck about you or Austin, like I’ve been telling you for the past seven years! You want your kid around someone who would try to rape a female?!” he spat, banging his hand on the table. I cringed at Adrian putting it all out on the table for his sister to hear. My head immediately dropped. I knew Justine was staring at me, I could feel her piercing stare from the other side of the room. Adrian could have expressed this differently instead of coming for the jugular; goodness.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Your knight and shining armor tried to rape Bailey. Doesn’t sound so nice, does it?” he stated sternly, standing up. “You’re protecting this nigga or what?” She remained quiet, no longer staring at Adrian but at me. Shaking his head with a sad chuckle, he left the table quickly, not realizing that Austin was secured in the corner of the room, looking like a deer caught in headlights. I hadn’t even noticed him standing there at all and I wondered how much he did hear and if he understood any of this. As far as I was concerned, I never saw Adrian and Justine go at it in front of Austin so this must have been something hurtful to watch. Shaking my head, I went to go look for Adrian but stopped when Austin moved from his original spot in the corner to in front of me.

“Do they hate each other?” he asked softly.

“No, of course not! Just a little sibling discussion,” I tried to soothe. “Uh, c’mon, let’s give your mom some time to herself,” I said, turning my head to the side so I could get a glance at Justine. It was like she was paralyzed in her seat and couldn’t move because of the bombs Adrian just dropped on her. It was bound to come up but right now? Yikes. He nodded slowly and took ahold of my hand as we walked away from Austin’s mother. “How does a movie sound?” I asked.

“Okay,” he mumbled. I sighed deeply, walking towards the movie room. I just hope Adrian wasn’t doing anything destructive.

TPP

“Kennedy is Bailey,” That was all Xavier had to hear for his blood to begin to boil. He knew that there was something suspicious about Lonnie and as suspected, he was right and couldn’t believe it. As any normal person, his mind would have went in the direction of happiness, as he was close to finally bringing Bailey back, but that’s not what was on his mind. The fact that Lonnie tried to rape his younger cousin was and that set him off more than anything. Knowing that if his uncle found out about that, he knew he would destroy that nigga without a second thought to it and Xavier was going to do just that. He didn’t include Ryan on his plans because he knew that Ryan would possibly put a stop to it and truth be told, Xavier didn’t want any interference from anyone. So, Xavier called Lonnie up and asked if they could meet up and now he was currently at Lonnie’s house. Lonnie believed that Xavier was interested in the topic of discussion they were having but he didn’t know better and certainly didn’t know Kennedy was family he was fucking with.

Xavier, with such ease, pulled out his 9mm caliber, pointing it at Lonnie’s back. Lonnie was going to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of beer and when he turned around and noticed the gun pointing at him, he let out a dark chuckle. “What’s this for?” he asked, tensing up.

“You see, I knew something was wrong with you when I met you. I just didn’t know what yet. That was until everything started to click,” he chuckled dryly, licking his lips shortly after. Lonnie clenched his jaw, not sure what he was referring to but by the way he stood with his chest out, if he was going to die, he was going to die like a man, at least. All his dirt is already done, he did what he had to do and Adrian will find out soon. His job is completed. “This Kennedy girl you was fucking with is actually my cousin and her real name is Bailey,” Lonnie stared at him harshly, not wanting to believe such a thing, let alone believe that he was fucking with Ryan’s ex girl all along. Damn, he thought, Adrian fucked over two niggas with one girl. “And you tried to rape her. I don’t play that shit,” Xavier grumbled.

“So you’re about to kill me over someone I didn’t even know was related to you?” Lonnie questioned.

“Wrong… now you do know she’s related to me and I’m still going to kill you,”

“It’s not even wor-“ Lonnie wasn’t even able to finish his statement before a bullet smoothly pierced the middle of his head, blood quickly splattering the surrounding area. Smoke from the gun clouded the area for a few seconds before it died down.

“It is worth it, bitch,” Xavier grumbled, not fazed by Lonnie’s slumped body. He shook his head and proceeded to get up, grabbing the beer bottle Lonnie was once going to drink. He pulled out his phone and called a good friend of his uncle’s that’ll clean this mess and make it appear as if it was a random home invasion. One down, Ryan is next to go. Although Mr. Banks put Xavier and Ryan to work together, Mr. Banks knew it was only a matter of time before they did their own things and with Ryan confirming Xavier thoughts, there was no way Xavier could act as if he valued Ryan’s word.

Bailey

It was easier said than done, coaxing Austin to forget about what he just saw with his own eyes. Regardless of what movie I selected for us to watch, it seemed like he had more questions than I had answers and I felt bad that I couldn’t give him those answers. It came down to finding Adrian for him because it seemed like only Adrian could somewhat make Austin feel better. I haven’t seen Justine after that breakfast catastrophe and she probably locked herself in her room by now, not wanting to face anyone. I don’t know when the next time Adrian will come around and apologize to his sister for his behavior because at this point, he seemed over everything. He wasn’t going to apologize for his actions. He wasn’t going to be made look like he was dumb when all he did was look out for her and I completely understood that; shit, everyone has a breaking point. I just didn’t think it would have gotten to this point so soon.

I just didn’t understand why Justine couldn’t see it her brother’s way for once. She was rooting for Lonnie so hard yet failed to realize the bigger picture. Although I didn’t speak my thoughts aloud, I know Adrian was thinking the same thing. “How is he?” I asked, walking into our bedroom.

“He’s fine, now. He actually went to sleep,” Adrian mumbled. I climbed in bed beside him, laying my head on his chest. “Thanks,” he grumbled.

“For what?”

“One, for not ripping Justine’s head off. Yeah, that’s my sister and all but her mouth is something else and two, for trying to console Austin. He’s not meant to be around this type of environment. I don’t know, my original plan was to make Austin and Justine relocate but now I just want Austin to go somewhere else,”

“Like where? You got family outside of New York?”

“My grandmother. She lives in Georgia,”

“This isn’t your maternal grandmother, right?”

“Naw,” he chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“I listen during our conversations,” I smiled. It was a conversation we had way back after our initial rocky stage and he was elaborating on who the important women were in his life. He mentioned his grandmother but if I remember correctly, he said that she had passed away a while ago.

“I call her my grandmother, but I’ve known her since I was young. You see, I had an older brother,” I paused a little bit, taking in Adrian’s statement. I should have known that Adrian had more things up his sleeve to reveal; the things that circulate around Adrian are endless. I just didn’t expect to hear that he had an older brother. I always believed it was just Justine and Adrian, but I was wrong. Remaining mum, I allowed him time to continue. “All three of us used to travel to Georgia every now and then before I settled in New York for high school. Down there, my grandmother had a friend who I call my grandmother as well ‘cause she would look out for us as if we were blood. She was dope as hell and I usually make it my mission to visit her every year, but I haven’t seen her in over three years due to all this bullshit,”

“So, let me guess. That’s your first stop when this blows over,”

“If I’m not arrested,” I bit my bottom lip and sighed, not knowing exactly how to respond to that. Only time will tell, and time was running out quickly.

“Why do I feel like when we go back to New York, all of our plans will dissolve?” I mumbled. Grasping my waist in his hands, he placed me on his lap so that I was now straddling him. Licking my lips, he forced me look at him, knowing that I was purposely avoiding his gaze.

“Is that what you’re really worried about?” he questioned.

“I wish you didn’t kidnap me, and we had met in a different scenario, you know? Like, somewhere in a supermarket and you come up to me with a cheesy pick up line. Things would have been so much easier. Do you ever stop to think and wonder how your actions have an effect on others? Like, what’s going to happen to Austin?” He sighed tiredly, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Sometimes but I’ll make sure Austin is taken care of before anything can ever happen to him and that’s my word. But, I never run away from any of my issues, as you can see, but shit happens,” he said.

“You gotta do better,” I muttered, locking my hands with his. “Where’s the next stop going to be?” I questioned, sliding off his lap and onto the open space next to him.

“It’ll take us a while to get back to our villas ‘cause we so far from ‘em now, so that’s where we’re heading now. I don’t know when we’ll be back though,”

“Alright, I’m going to take a nap,” I said, slipping under the covers.

“You mad now?” he asked, hovering over my small frame. His lips roamed on the side of my neck, attempting to get some sort of reaction out of me. His hands slipped underneath my shirt, the pads of his finger tickling my skin. “Oh, so you don’t want to answer me now? Why you so salty for? I’m the one that should be upset. You don’t see the shit I gotta deal with on a daily basis?” he continued to talk, his fingers nearing the hem of my cotton shorts. I was a little worried about the future of Adrian since he seemed to be a little nonchalant about the repercussions he could possibly face. He had a family to look after and without Adrian around, how could he keep a watchful eye on things from behind bars? I was probably stupid for being this compassionate about his predicament when I should show him nothing but hate but it really is hard to do so when you start to talk to and understand a person. “It’s cute that you’re worried ‘bout me, shorty. But, I’m good so don’t be,” he stated confidently. I opened my mouth to speak but instead a harsh gasp left my mouth as soon as Adrian’s fingers pumped into me.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

After a fuck, shower and nap later, Adrian and I both were comfortably lying in bed, separating ourselves from everyone else. Occasionally Austin would come in but other than that, communication with others has been low. Caiden does come in every once and a while though. I had asked about how Justine was doing not too long ago, and I guess she had literally cried herself to sleep, based on what Caiden had said. I tried to convince Adrian to go talk to her, but he wouldn’t listen at all; he’s so fucking stubborn. The only person I see him listening to is Austin. “You’re actually getting reception out here?” I mumbled tiredly, looking for his requested phone.

“I know right. Ain’t that some dope shit?” he chuckled. Handing him his vibrating device, he took a look at the caller I.D. and sighed, mumbling something inaudible.

“What’s up?” he answered. He looked at me through the corner of his eye slightly before swinging his legs off the bed and turning to face the other way. I immediately took that as my cue to go outside and give him some privacy. I didn’t end up too far as I only managed to make it a few feet outside before I heard a loud ‘what?’causing me to retract my steps and step into the room once again. His face was completely flushed red and it wasn’t because he was embarrassed, hardly is he, but because he was angry as hell. He was pacing the floor quickly, trying to alleviate his anger but it seemed futile. I carefully maneuvered around him, sitting on the middle of the bed. I couldn’t quite hear who was on the other end of the line but from the baritone voice, it sounded like someone important.

“I’ll be back in two days, the most. I‘m leaving tonight then,” Leaving? My brows shot up and I listened even more closely than before. He roamed around the room, packing shit up quickly, not caring where his clothes went or not. I wanted to interrupt him for a second, but I was scared that he just might fling me for doing such a thing. The phone conversation lasted another ten minutes before he tucked his phone away in the back pocket of his sweats. I remained quiet for a few seconds before I found myself speaking up again.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I mumbled, scooting towards the edge of the bed.

“Fuck am I doing on a boat?” he muttered to himself, sitting down as well but that didn’t stop him from stuffing the clothes he had in his hand in the duffle bag. I carefully wrapped my arms around his neck from behind, feeling just how tense and rigid his body was. The worrisome feature that seems to occur at any given moment was making its appearance.

“Adrian,” I cooed softly. “Talk to me,”

“Bailey, it’s really not a good time,” he said sternly, lightly pulling my arms from off of him. I frowned my face up at his action before he stood and turned to look at me. “As soon as this boat docks, I’m leaving for New York,” My eyebrows meshed together, and my demeanor softened.

“How, Adrian? We’re still a few miles away from the city,” I told him. “Relax for a second and breathe. What’s going on? There’s nothing you can do right now,” Still, that didn’t stop Adrian from gathering the amount of clothing he did bring into the duffel bag he carried onto the boat.

“Justine’s crib been ransacked. My step pops just called telling me,” My mouth fell. “I need to be back home, now!” he gritted.

“Wait, slow down. What do you mean her crib was ransacked? Someone broke in?” I asked.

“That’s what the fuck ransack means, Bailey!” he yelled harshly. That easily made me shut my mouth, although I had something on the tip of my tongue that I wanted to say. Obviously, right now wasn’t the right time to rip into him or do anything that might make him more upset. I just thought that hearing that tidbit of information was really random. All of a sudden when Adrian isn’t even in the states something like this occurs? Although I knew someonewas out there looking for me, I knew it couldn’t have been anyone from my side. I just wouldn’t see it as something beneficial if they were looking to get me back, to be honest.

“If you’re going to New York, I’m going as well!” I stated with enough conviction to get my point across. Adrian didn’t bother to say anything to me, seeing as that his mind was already gone and that there was a high chance that the last thing on his mind was whether or not I accompanied him. I just wasn’t too positive if going back this soon was the best thing for neither of us.

Between those two days, might I add chaotic days, everything seemed to happen in a flash. There was literally no time to sit and allow things to marinate because time was moving too quickly. As soon as the boat had docked two days ago, we hastily returned to the villa, collecting our belongings. At this point, he hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone about what was occurring back home and rightfully so. It wasn’t until Justin had caught him packing his things and calling for his jet to arrive early the next morning for an abrupt departure did Adrian finally allow them to know what was up. However, he didn’t want everyone coming back at once, he barely wanted me to come back. So instead, he ordered August and Caiden to stay with Justine and Austin until he got to the bottom of this.

Adrian was really giving August the cold shoulder, unbeknownst to me and every time I tried to ask, he would just ignore me as if I didn’t ask a question. Austin was the least bit happy to see him leave. The two of them actually had a long conversation before Austin allowed his uncle to leave. After that, the five of us boarded the jet and was on our way back home. We had at least fifteen minutes left before we landed in New York and my nerves seemed to have skyrocketed in that amount of time. My legs continued to shake as I looked out at the sky. Everything was so tense, and I just felt like this was a foreshadowing of everything that was bound to happen.

An announcement detailing our landing ensued and I buckled up and leaned back into the cushioned chair. Adrian, Brian and Justin conversed the whole plane ride. About what? I don’t know and I doubt anyone will tell me. The plane landed safely, and I gathered the few belongings I did have, making my way to the entrance and exit of the private jet. From the somewhat large windows, I noticed a black Escalade waiting outside for what I assumed to be ours and as I slowly descended down the steps, the harsh air of New York nipped at my skin. It was still the middle of July, but it felt like the beginning of November.

“Welcome back, Mr. Peters,” Adrian had caught up with me and snaked his hand into mine, catching me off guard. He was either hot or cold and it was always unexpected. Adrian simply nodded and pulled me in the direction of the backseat. I got in first before he followed and from the window once again, I watched Justin and Brian talk for a few minutes before departing into another vehicle I hadn’t noticed before. Our luggage was put into the trunk and once we were all settled, we finally left. I stared at our conjoined hands and briefly looked at Adrian. It was crazy how I felt as if we were putting in all this energy for nothing to actually happen at the end of this. I wasn’t stupid and I knew that we could never be; I just didn’t understand why I was tricking myself into believing otherwise.

We had passed through multiple neighborhoods in order to get to Brooklyn. The brownstone that I had recognized a few months back belonged to none other than Justine. From the outside looking in, nothing seemed strange. “Com’on,” Adrian muttered, snapping me out of my thoughts. I moved without verbally speaking and trekked behind him slowly. It felt weird being in the city again, as if this was a place I was actually excited about being in. With ease, Adrian unlocked the front door and trekked further inside the house with me following close behind. Behind the light brown colored door, I didn’t know what I expected to see but I was certainly shocked as hell.

From coming here months ago, everything was left in a neat and primped order. Now, things were thrown out of the draws, furniture was flipped upside down, there was broken glass on the hardwood floor, things out of place and all pictures that were once on the wall appeared to be stepped on and scattered along the floor. My feet continued to carry me around the house, and I felt so bad for Justine. The fact that Adrian told her what happened and yet he’s forcing her to stay away, I just can’t seem to fathom what could possibly be going through her mind right now. We might be at odds but it’s obvious she’s going through it. I pushed one of the doors back slightly, revealing Adrian in what appeared to be Austin’s room. Compared to other rooms, this room was the one that remained the same and neat as hell. “This was all Lonnie’s doing,” Adrian said.

“Hmph,” I sounded, crossing my arms over my chest. I leaned against the doorframe and waited till Adrian turned to face me.

“What?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” I retorted. “I’m going to go wait in the car,” I declared, not knowing why my presence to be here to begin with was needed. This was just too much for me to take in.

“Your fucking attitude is not necessary,” he said, snatching my forearm in his hand. “You can drop that shit right now. I don’t know where that shit is coming from but let it go,”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

Adrian

I didn’t understand where this hostility was coming from with Bailey, but it was irritating the shit out of me. Right now was not the time for her to cop an attitude, especially with me. Old Adrian would not have a problem making a reappearance and I know that’s the last thing I know she wants. So it’s better if she remains to herself and stay out of my way. It’s bad enough that I got people gunning for me but to deal with Lonnie’s bullshit as well? Fine, I can handle it all then. Pulling up to my crib, I slipped out of the backseat, not bothering to wait for Bailey to leave as well. She got me too fucked up. I used the key to enter into the vacant household, nothing seemingly out of place. I briskly walked towards one of the hidden closets, yanking the door open and taking a look at the camera footage. As far as a brief look at the camera footage, there was no apparent break in, no one lurking around my premises and everything seemed to be copasetic. But in reality, it was far from it

Shaking my head, I trekked up the steps to my bedroom and slipping in with ease. To my surprise, bipolar ass Bailey was sitting down on my bed with an envelope in her hand. For a second, I believed that it was the one I had given her but by the expression on her face, I realized that it wasn’t as she extended her hand for me to take it. “This was left by the door. You would have seen it if you didn’t barge past,” she said.

I quickly glanced at it for a millisecond. “Go pack your things,” I muttered without glancing at her. I made my way towards the desk, sat down and began to open the envelope. At this point, I had no expectation for what I was about to see or read. I was drained from everything and a tiny part of me wished I had never been this curious to actually find out what had occurred over a year ago. Huffing dramatically, I finally found the willpower to open the envelope and grasp the crisp letter out of it. Since when did niggas feel like it was appropriate to send letters? I scanned the letter, going straight towards the end to see whether or not the sender left a name and to no surprise, there wasn’t. “Type of bullshit is this,” I mumbled, beginning to read the tell-all letter. Within the first paragraph, I already knew who was behind this and I was itching to find him.

What’s hidden in the dark, must come to light sooner or later, right? Well, at least I think so. There’s really so much to be said but only so much space to write it all, this’ll have to do though. I think it’s best if we start from the very beginning. Remember that plan you had with Ryan that seemed to fail miserably? Well, there’s a few reasons why that plan actually failed to begin with. One,you were working with Ryan of all people. Two, Ryan is my friend, emphasis on friend. Three, there are a lot of people willing to see the demise of you and four, your family will turn on you in a heartbeat when it works in their favor.

That was your first downfall. But of course with every action, there is a consequence and yours was not an exception. But see, it could have been. But not when your plan has been switched into a set up by none other than your precious sister. Oh yes! She’s the one that hatched the idea. But don’t worry, she wasn’t the only one in on it. It was the three of us. Ryan, Justineand me of course. I don’t need to write my name, you know by now, right?

Anyhow, the goal was to destroy you. It was working pretty well to start off. Once I found out you were working with Ryan, I knew that this was the perfect time to make my move, but it wouldn’t have worked as efficiently if Justine wasn’t apart of the mix. With a little convincing, fake promises and fucking your sister’s brain out on a daily, she finally gave in. She acted as our insider. Of course, there was going to be things you didn’t want Ryan to know and the only way any sort of information would leave your lips, is if you told Justine. She was really convincing with wanting to know, huh? She probably made it seem like she cared wholeheartedly. Wrong. After collecting all the information we did need on you, we devised a plan to set you up.

I informed Ryan on this and he gladly assisted and played his part. Justine was the one that made sure you were caught in the act of doing something illegal. So ultimately, Justine is the reason why you had that little stint in prison. Fucked up, right? Well your sister isn’t as innocent as she plays to be, how unfortunate. She was the one that made sure the FBI knew when and where to locate you so you would be the one caught with your hands tied. Being that, that was a successful plan, I took the initiative to wire money out of your bank accounts, you know, the one that has your illegal and legal money? Check your funds during the period of time when you were incarcerated, your legal account that is.

All information supplied by your lovely sister.

But that’s not it. Things get much more juicer. I’m pretty sure you’re fuming right about now, and this will most certainly anger you. For Justine’s sake, I hope she isn’t near you.

If you recall, the same time you were put on trial was the same time Austin went missing. Well, he wasn’t truly missing. I knew where he was andso did Justine. I guess you can’t really blame Justine for this but then you can. I knew that if you found out something were to happen to your nephew, you would potentially jeopardize your life in order to make sure he is safe. So, I came up with the idea of using Austin as a piece of my plan. The whole idea was to make you come out of character to gain a higher sentencing, working in my favor to slowly destroy what empire you seem to have. It didn’t work but my plans still went through.

Justine wasn’t too fond of the idea, but I didn’t care. I told her about what I had in mind and that I would need Austin to execute this. While I pretended to act as if I was done plotting, I asked if I could have Austin for the weekend; the same week in which he was took. This is when I was still given time with Austin before she was granted sole custody. Anyhow, in that time period, I mentioned to Ryan, your number one enemy, what plan I had in mind and the cut he would have in this if he went along with it. And he did. To cut a long story short, I told Austin to go the corner store where Ryan was waiting already and that’s when he was taken. I clearly knew where my son was and so did Justine, she just didn’t know what was happening to her beloved baby… that is until she saw it for herself. If I were you, I would fuck Ryan’s life up for abusing Austin, but I can’t say much since I allowed for it to happen.

Check the police reports if I were you.

All in all, what I was seeking for didn’t work out since I didn’t get the reaction out of you that I wanted. But in the long run, I see that I still managed to cause some damage. I know that by the end of this letter, you’ll probably come after Ryan and I, and I’m perfectly fine with that; my job is done. Your sister isn’t as perfect and innocent as she seems, huh? Who would ever think she would aid in harming her own brother and lying about her knowledge of Austin? Just go and ask her and see how quickly she fucks up and begins to stutter-

I couldn’t even find it in me to finish the rest of the letter. What I read thus far, I didn’t want to believe nor think it could ever be true. But my mind was racing, and everything was slowly piecing together… Before I could even process my actions, my fist was colliding with the white colored walls.

Bailey

I had one suitcase packed to capacity with all the amount of clothing I seemed to have accumulated over the few months. Being back in New York just gave me this weird feeling. It was once a city that I adored but it just brings me to the point of exhaustion. Like, everything that I despise and want to get away from is here. There’s absolutely no way of avoiding it and with seeing how destroyed Justine’s place is, I know it’s only a matter of time before shit hits closer to home. It had been over an hour since being back at the house and I hadn’t heard not a thing from Adrian. I don’t know if that could possibly pose as a good thing or not but whatever it meant, I was slightly worried since he usually checks up on me despite the situation. I probably acted like a bitch earlier when I didn’t have to, but this was all getting to me and I just wanted to be done with it all.

Standing up to retrieve my black Timberland boots, I heard an unusual sound from one of the rooms on the same level as me and went to take a look outside. I stood near the staircase, staring down below and not noticing a thing at all. I must be hearing things. The minute I went to head back into my room, I heard that same exact sound again, making me walk quickly in the direction of the source. To my surprise, Adrian stood in Justine’s room, fucking up all of her personal items. What? Adrian seemed like such a different person so quickly; his face was completely flushed red, his veins were more conspicuous, his chest was heaving in and out rapidly and there was a noticeable amount of blood on his clothing and hand.

I felt like in these past two days I found myself asking him way too many questions like, what’s going on, what’s wrong, etc, and I can see my questions annoying him which is why I’m so timid in actually asking now. However, I didn’t want to see him self-destruct and cause any more harm than what he’s already doing. I just wish Brian and Justin were around to diffuse this situation for me. Despite me being in the same room as him, it didn’t stop him from causing any more damage, even when he looked at me. It seemed like it just ignited more anger. But that’s when I knew I should step in and say something to him. Slowly stepping over broken items, I trailed closely next to Adrian and placed my hand on his back in a somewhat comforting manner. “Whatever is happening right now, I think you should stop and relax before you jump to anymore conclusions,” I said calmly.

“My sister is a fucking fraud, Bailey. You can’t trust no one,” he yelled with frustration. I knew the less detailed questions I asked him, the better for him but I wasn’t understanding. “I want her out my fucking house!”

“You can’t kick her out. Where will she go? Her house is trashed!” I exclaimed, grabbing the glass vase from his hand before he had a chance to smash it against the wall.

“I don’t care where she goes; I don’t. I just know I don’t want to see her in my face,” he gritted.

“You know you would be an asshole for that, right?” I said seriously. He snatched away his hand from me causing me to stumble, trip over the material on the floor and land on my bottom. “Fuck,” I hissed, feeling the glass that was located on the floor pierce my skin. Adrian hovered over me and pulled my face in his grasp.

“You don’t get it, do you? My own blood sister turned her back on me for a stupid nigga like Lonnie. She played the innocent role until shit caught up to her. She can’t even be truthful or loyal to her own blood?” he asked rhetorically. “I don’t want that shit around me. Fuck her! I knew there was a reason you can’t trust everyone. I knew it and it’s sad as fuck that my sister had to confirm that shit for me. I’ve been telling you for the longest not to trust everyone you encounter, B. You see the shit I’m dealing with?!”

“But that doesn-“ I said with my voice muffled a bit since he was restricting me from talking properly.

“Yes the fuck it does. How would you feel if you knew the person who killed Riley was staying up in this crib?” he said seriously, snatching his hand away from my face. My face contorted into confusion at his words. I didn’t know if he was saying that to be a jackass or if he had meant it but the longer the silence lingered in the air while he continued to viciously throw Justine’s shit around, I began to slowly connect the dreadful pieces.

“You killed him?” I said, surprisingly loud with just the right amount of bass.

“I was in jail, couldn’t have been me. But, August? Yeah, he did,” he said nonchalantly. I could feel my body heat rise and the once loving vibe that used to encompass this house with all the lively people that lived in it, vanished within a heartbeat and I felt myself breaking down all over again. How could they have possibly gone through so many months and not think to mention such a thing? How could August sit in my face and hold plenty of conversations with me but omit to mention he killed Riley? I’m a thousand percent sure they knew of who I was before this, who I surrounded myself around and so forth. For them to think they could hide something like this for so long, boggled my mind and it actually hurts my feelings. My bottom lip trembled with force as I stood up slowly, slightly cringing at the feel of the glass cuts on my exposed legs.

“Wow, Adrian,” I chuckled darkly. “You allowed me to sit there and pour my heart out to you about Riley when you already knew of him? You had me thinking you didn’t know a damn thing about him, and you sat up in my face, knowing damn well you did and to make matters worse, you knew who fucking killed him. You preach all this nonsense about being truthful and being trustworthy, but you can’t even fucking tell me the truth from day one?”

“Niggas die every day, B,” he dismissed. I couldn’t help the tears that began to pool at the corner of my eye.

“And you don’t even fucking care. I’m so speechless right now,” I muttered, refusing to allow any tears to leave from my eyes, at least not in front of his emotionless face. “I’m so stupid for believing a nigga like you,” I mumbled, briskly walking past him and out of the haphazard room. There were no footsteps heard behind me at all so I knew that he hadn’t followed me. To think that Adrian would be 100% honest with me and would at least have the decency to tell me something like this earlier, blows my mind. He could tell me everything else, including how Ryan ain’t shit but couldn’t tell me this? Although it wasn’t necessarily him that pulled the trigger, it might as well have been with the way he was holding out on potentially telling me. August didn’t even have the guts to tell me and made me wonder if that was the reason Adrian was giving him the cold shoulder all along. Shaking my head, a part of me was glad that I once again was snapped back into reality of Adrian and his bullshit. But then there was another part of me that just wished I knew this sooner and that August would have opened his mouth. I mean, what’s the worse that I can do? It’s not like I can resurrect Riley, but this does indeed leave me with weight on my shoulders now.

All that was running through my mind at the moment was fuck it.

I was drained.

Emotionally and psychically.

What I would do just to be in my bed for a day, the options are endless.

I would love to wake up and think of this as a horrible nightmare.

I just know that Adrian is the last person I want to see, and I have plans of getting away from him. I just didn’t know where I would go. It’s not like I can waltz back into my parent’s house, let alone my old apartment.

I tried my hardest to stop the influx of tears as it worked to no avail, causing me to become flustered. The white envelope that Adrian so graciously gifted me with a few days ago sat upon the neat bad, waiting to be unfolded and read. I didn’t want to potentially see anything else that Adrian might have to say, whether it be written down or not, but something was urging me to do it now so if it was a heartache, I could get over it quickly. Snatching the paper of the bed, I quickly ripped it open, not caring how it looked appearance wise and slipped out the blank white card that was contained inside. In what appeared to be words written by a sharpie, were three of the most important words I never thought I would get the chance to do while here and from the fact that it came from Adrian made me quite suspicious. Why is he playing with my emotions? It read:

Call your pops.

At this point, I rather take that call from Ryan.

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onlineadventureofgroup2 · 4 years ago

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PERFORMANCE TASK #2

What are the things that your group think could be better in your school or community? Live down five things.

LGBTQ (rights and equality)

Climate Change (awareness raising)

Teenage pregnancy (awareness raising)

Improper Waste Disposal (awareness raising)

Covid-19 Crisis Pandemic (awareness raising)

Dull it or Sprinkle it?

What would you if you have a friend that belongs to LGBTQ?

Will you choose to throw them in the shades of life or would you sprinkle them into everyone's lives?

Not all LGBTQ are welcome to live their life freely without judgment, so as a fellow human what would you choose to do. No matter how different people can be from each other the only thing that could matter is how you let them be themselves as they enjoy life as how you do it. Give them happiness through the form of acceptance.

The White House has declared June as LGBT Pride Month. During this month many organizations are focused on raising awareness about issues and will celebrate the progress made towards increasing equal rights for those who identify themselves with the LGBT community.

For so many people, race, gender, or religion doesn’t allow them to flip their visibility on and off like a light switch. Some identity markers are always visible and invite judgment. So, if I choose not to wear my bracelet because I am worried about what others will think, I cannot confidently call myself an ally in their fight for nondiscrimination. It is much easier to hide, to retreat back into the metaphorical closet. But now more than ever we must be proud and visible. Not only do I need to continue to wear my rainbow, but I need to shout my queerness from the rooftops—let everyone know that I am gay and proud because if those who seek to silence our voices succeed, we cannot continue the progress we have come to take for granted. - Charlie Kolodziej

The Earth has been in existence for billions of years yet a constant problem that has only been discovered in recent decades is how climate change is slowly destroying our planet. One of the main causes of climate change is humanity’s continuous usage of fossil fuels, such as coal, oil, and gas to generate electricity, run cars and other forms of transport, and power manufacturing and industry, and deforestation – because living trees absorb and store carbon dioxide. We, humans, should combat this problem by raising our voices and because bring awareness to others, as well as consciously making an effort to change our ways to take care of our one and only planet.

“One thing leads to the other. Deforestation leads to climate change, which leads to ecosystem losses, which negatively impacts our livelihoods – it’s a vicious cycle.”

Gisele Bundchen, Supermodel & UN Goodwill Ambassador

“One can see from space how the human race has changed the Earth. Nearly all of the available land has been cleared of forest and is now used for agriculture or urban development. The polar ice caps are shrinking and the desert areas are increasing. At night, the Earth is no longer dark, but large areas are lit up. All of this is evidence that human exploitation of the planet is reaching a critical limit. But human demands and expectations are ever-increasing. We cannot continue to pollute the atmosphere, poison the ocean, and exhaust the land. There isn’t any more available.” – Stephen Hawking, Physicist & Author

The pregnancy of females under the age of twenty is known as teen pregnancy. Teenagers are between the ages of thirteen and twenty, and although they aren't quite teens, they aren't quite adults either, putting them at greater risk during this period of uncertainty. The reason why those women getting pregnant due to the broken family, bad influence of friends, alcohol consumption, or using drugs. According to Thobejane (2015) that the most reason is having a broken family which is not good for their children and can lead them down to the wrong path way.

Raising awareness about teenage pregnancy not only to the girls but also to the boys is crucial. We believe that boys must have equal responsibility towards this issue since they’re the ones who can impregnate young women. Girls always take the blame regarding this issue when in fact, it is a shared responsibility of both parties. All must be aware and educated enough about this particular issue.

"You should have sex when you're ready emotionally and should be aware of all of the consequences that come along with your actions" – Natasha 15

References: Tsoaledi Daniel Thobejane (2015) Factors Contributing to Teenage Pregnancy in South Africa: The Case of Matjitjileng Village, Journal of Sociology and Social Anthropology, 6:2, 273-277, DOI: 10.1080/09766634.2015.11885667

Proper waste disposal is more likely waste segregation, before throwing out all your garbages, you will need to sort out some things that can still be useful and recycled. The benefits of proper waste disposal are first, we can lessen the manufacturing by recycling and reusing some old things, second, it also protects the environment because it gets rid of contamination that can cause a lot of damage. With waste being properly disposed of, our environment is cleaner, meaning there are fewer health risks and hazards around to affect us.

“There is no such thing as ‘away. When we throw anything away it must go somewhere.” – Annie Leonard, Proponent of Sustainability

“When you put the whole picture together, recycling is the right thing to do.” – Pam Shoemaker, Author

In our school community, we propose to have better information and knowledge to the awareness of the COVID-19 Crisis Pandemic. We should give importance and substantial perception on how to deal with the pandemic, especially in students. How dangerous and harmful in our health to dealing with the pandemic in our society. So as a student in the institution we need knowledgable information to protect and maintain our body healthy. In the future of pandemic, consciousness and always prepared in the activity and some news about COVID-19 to ensure to have a better lifestyle during a pandemic.

Physical distancing helps limit the spread of COVID-19 – this means we keep a distance of at least 1m from each other and avoid spending time in crowded places or in groups. Protect yourself and others. Break the chain of transmission. - WHO, Western Pacific Region

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dishonoredrpg · 5 years ago

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Congratulations, C! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE DEVIL with the faceclaim of MAHESH JADU. Getting to read your application was truly -- genuinely -- a gift. A treat! A joy! You touched on everything I could have wanted in an app for The Devil, from the way their body is in need of constant repair to how at its core, their loyalty is selfish, but selfish for a reason that is so incredibly human it makes you want to weep. Wraith (what a fitting name) embodied a terror, I think, befitting a spymaster, and I fully believe that they are good at what they do. I both empathize with and fear their power. I think your exploration of the void as a concept was also fascinating, and I was so happy to see you take it into your own hands and make it yours! You’ve done me a great service by letting me get to have you and them on the dashboard.

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC NAME: C PRONOUNS: they/them AGE: 27 TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: EST; my activity is pretty consistent—I’m around on Discord most of the time, and I will generally do all of my replies 3 times a week or so ANYTHING ELSE?: this group looks so wonderful! I’ve been longing for a good fantasy rp and this is so well done, so thank you!

IN CHARACTER SKELETON: the Devil NAME: Wraith ( among a half-dozen others. It’s not so much a name as a quick referent, a summons. they don’t need a name to answer when called. they had a real name, once, years ago; they don’t remember it anymore. a name their mother gave them, a name their mother spat into the ground. not the name of a child, but the name of a well-honed, well-balanced blade. they gave it up, when they went to court. it was a split-second decision, when the king asked them their name, and instead of giving the one that someone else had branded them with, they answered: my Lord, I am nothing but a wraith ) FACECLAIM: Mahesh Jadu (backups: Sacha Dhawan or Mena Massoud - though I would age the character down to 28 in Mena’s case) AGE: 35 -- ( it’s old, for an inferni; there’s no reason they should be alive anymore by all accounts, but Wraith’s magic isn’t quite as actively destructive as that of many inferni. still, it would be a lie to say the magic isn’t taking its toll. it has called in its dark favor from them time and again: first, three fingers of their left hand, now empty space; then, a part of their jaw, reconstructed for them by a court necromancer out of someone else’s bone; these days, it isn’t so much that parts of their body are going missing as their very material form seems to take longer and longer to take shape each time they move, and sometimes it is as if they aren’t anything more substantial than dark smoke unfurling, as if they themself are slowly being consumed by the void they fall through again and again. ) DETAILS: The thing that fascinates me most about The Devil is the way they seem to have traded one cage for another, one wielder from another, doing the same thing at the hands of a different master. “You are not an animal . . . You’ll show her just how beast like you can be.” There’s a layer, there, of absolute self-denial, a kind of self-obliteration in the pursuit of their vengeance. There’s something very pragmatic about them, very focused: the position is a tool, too, not something they delight in except in what it gets them. I feel like “spymaster” characters are always written as characters who delight in gossip and the abuse of information, but the Devil is such a refreshing change from that trope, in that way. I also love the complexity of their feelings about Septimus: an acknowledgement, that he is a fool, an understanding that he is a bad leader, perhaps even an understanding that he deserves to be overthrown, and yet a deliberate allegiance to him in the moment because it serves them, because it grants them power in a way they crave that power. I think there’s a sense, in that loyalty, that it is better to be an animal caged by the kind of fool who forgets to latch the gate at night; there’s a sense that if it came down to it, they could outsmart Septimus and escape him, a deliberate choice to serve a master they could overpower if they needed to. That’s what makes the difference, between their mother and Septimus, between serving one over the other: they feel that with Septimus, they are really the one in control. BACKGROUND: ( trigger warnings: sexist slurs, abuse, injury, body horror ) The first time they fall, it is an accident. Schoolyard bullies have them cornered—they’re scrawny, for their ages, and their mother is alone and poor, the kind of woman to whom vicious gossip clings. What about you? one of the kids asks, bigger than them by nearly threefold, and reeking. Are you a whore like your mother, too? Let’s see what you— One moment, the kid is in front of them and the next there is nothing but black, a void around them, empty of everything, utterly. Of light, of beings, of sensation. Of time. It feels like they are falling for an hour, but when they hit the ground, ten feet behind the boys who were cornering them, smoldering slightly with thick black smoke, it has been less than a second. Time accelerates, then, as if to make up for it: there are screams of fear, looks of terror, and the next thing they know they are choking on the ground, their mother’s hand gripped around their throat. What did you do? What did you do and how did you do it? They can’t answer her, they don’t know. They’ve never known magic before, never done anything but fear it before. Time accelerates again, between each jump, each fall. The moments between the void blur. In the void, they feel grounded in their body. When they land, they feel detached. They press into small corners, fold their body small, overhear what they can. They report back. Some days their mother cradles their hair, rakes sharp-nailed fingers through it until she draws blood. Some days she locks their door and leaves, an understanding between them both that if they fall, to get out, the punishment will be much, much worse. Some days they go without food, some days they are left so aching and bruised they can barely hang onto the rafters to listen. There are only two constants: one, that each day ends with information, shared to their mother, measured, weighted, judged; two, that the time they spend in the void, brief and silent and perfect, makes the rest somehow bearable. The crack, the split, the seam, the breaking point. It comes one day, as they are coughing blood onto the floor. Someone knows, she shouts. Someone knows about you, you filth, you rat, you traitor. Who did you tell? Who have you told? They haven’t told anyone; someone planted information, leaked deliberately within earshot, somewhere they shouldn’t have been. Someone had grown suspicious at how much their mother knew, how much power it afforded her, and someone conspired to use them to take her down. She beats them bloody, leaves scars they’ll bare for the rest of their life, but she forgets one thing, in her attempt to reign them in. She forgets, because they have never used it against her, that they can fall. They let themself spend hours, in the void, before deciding where to go. The cuts in their skin, the breaks in their bones fill, with the black smoke of it, as they float there, falling. Like a new womb, it wraps its cold smoke around them and births them anew. They don’t think they’re going to appear inside the castle walls. They don’t have to think. It decides for them. ( this is the part of the story that precedes them, the part that has already been told: a young inferni, barely sixteen, appears before the King, begs for entrance three times, one week upon the next upon the next. disappears in a cloud of smoke and returns with a blade of grass from Wyvern-Wing plains. returns with a hand full of the pink sands of the Eastern coast. returns with a midnight-blue flower from deep within the Volkan forest. though they only needed one, to convince him. when asked their name, they say my Lord, I am nothing but a wraith ) Nicknames come easily, when they forsake a true name of their own. Not just wraith, but others: raven, ghost, wolf, snake. It doesn’t mean anything to them; they are accustomed to being a beast. Their reputation for lurking in corners, unseen, leads at first to rapid mistrust, suspicion, extra precaution. Royals are no more secretive than ordinary folk, except that they have more resources, hold their secrets more precious even when they are as banal as all the rest. So the charm is something they have to learn, something they have to socialize themself to. Talented or not, no one can survive in court without learning how to talk the right way. They may not need charm, or gold, or anything but magic to get the information they need to please the King, but that does not mean that the rest of the court is as easily content. There are patterns to learn, rivalries to steer clear of, delicate spots not to aggravate; they are a quick study. It is the same survival instinct that saw them bend like a reed to their mother’s hand. Cross the wrong person, and you are as good as dead. And so they don’t. They make few friends, and make the illusion of many: trust no one, but give them all reason to believe they trust you. They learn, they work, they excel. Secrets no one should know. Priceless ones no bribe is enough to uncover. They spend their days shuttling back and forth between the court and wherever they need to do, compiling reports by day, hiding in dark corners by night. As constant as the cool embrace of the void. And then, one day, their magic has its first cost: they appear before the king and look to find three fingers missing from their left hand, only the thumb and index finger left. No scarring left in their wake, as if they were never there to begin with. Months later, it is half their jaw they leave behind, and though a court necromancer shapes shards of someone else’s bone into a replacement and seals it under their skin, it is then that they begin to wear the mask they grow infamous for—the new jaw may sit fine and prettily in their face, but it will not be the last piece of themself they lose to the void. That it means they rarely see their own face, inhuman to them and unfamiliar, with its new bone structure, is a consideration as well, but one they will not admit to. That it means they never glimpse the lingering furl of black smoke in their own eyes is not something they will say aloud. PLOT IDEAS: 1. What is the void, they think, but a manifestation of the Undying’s embrace? Some might think it heresy, but their quiet, private reverence, their silent faith is a comfort to them. The void was a womb, to them, reborn and cloaked in black. They do not adhere to the tenets of organized worship of the Undying, but they think of her as a second mother of sorts, a relationship far more personal than by all accounts they should. They think she holds them close, every time they fall. But this private zealotry, this silent dedication, might raise the hackles of those who find the organized worship of temples and priests the only true way to understand faith. It might cast suspicion on them, or make them enemies in high places they have no interest in placating. 2. Sometimes it takes several seconds, for their body to fully materialize after they leave the void. Sometimes, it takes days. Sometimes, lately, they walk around more ghost than body, black cloaks and masks the only thing giving them form at all. They are close, they feel, so close, to getting what they want, but there is a risk, razor-sharp, that they will disappear entirely when it is just at their fingertips. Inferni aren’t meant to live so long, after all, are supposed to burn out in chaotic destruction, their own bodies traded for the magic they wield. But other inferni have lived as long, other magic users have found ways to circumvent the cost of their gifts. And if anyone can find the ones who have, can learn how they have done it, it is the wraith who knows all secrets. 3. They have heard so much talk of coups, in the intel they collect, the gossip they confirm. It seems everybody wants to be a part of a coup, at some point or another. Revolutionary aspirations have never been their cup of tea. Their work shelters them; the King provides everything they need. But they stand as a valuable resource, to either side, and while they are loyal to their king now, it is not out of any love for man nor nation. It is out of a loyalty to power, a loyalty to access, a loyalty to usefulness. If they were to receive a better offer, if the tides were to shift, just so, if there was a way to assure that someone else could keep them alive… they could find themself falling to the other side, or at least playing the field for both. Their dedication to the King is dedication to a fool whose power serves their needs; that doesn’t mean the Hierophant doesn’t have a point about the way magic could be used. Hungry dogs are never loyal, after all, and though the King has kept them well-fed, some masters offer crumbs and others steaks. CHARACTER DEATH: I’m absolutely fine with the possibility of them dying, and I look forward to the idea of playing/plotting a new character to replace them if that’s the case!

WRITING SAMPLE It was dark, at the docks, sun long gone, and darker beneath the wooden piers, by the struts that held them up above the water. The waves were glassy and smooth, like tourmaline, the tide low, lapping below their feet where they hung, half-suspended, beneath the docks, mask pulled low across their face. Dark clothes, dark mask, dark gloves, tendrils of the void around them and still fading from the fall from the castle to here. There was a meeting. Supposed to be a secret, but they had heard tell of the time and place, the collaborators involved. They would have been there even if revealing themself had not been an option, but this time… there was a question, furiously turning in their mind: would they pull themselves out of their perch, step out into the light, let those involved see the mask on their face and know they were there? Or would they do as they were told, as they usually did, deliver the message back and be done with it? They had spent plenty of time spying in the docks before, tracking black market deals, watching bargains and trades, keeping an eye of the coming and going of not only goods but people. Who spoke to whom, who wanted what. It was easy to hide, here, plenty of small, dark places to slip into, not to mention that no one ever seemed to look down. But the docks were the place of commonfolk and petty nobles. Of those getting rich off illegal goods, or bribing others into silence. It wasn’t ordinarily the place one came to talk of a coup. And yet… They pressed their ear closer to the wooden planks, closing their eyes to block out every sense but sound, a practiced trick to hear even the lowest of whispers from their hiding place. That was what the conversation was about—or, no, it wasn’t quite. That was the problem, perhaps. Careful language, as if cautiously avoiding saying the kind of forbidden words that could foment a rebellion. But the voices were talking about Koldam, and if they’d noticed anything of late, it was that Koldam had become something of a code word. A signal, from one rebellious upstart to the next. They’d even heard it within the walls of the castle, in places they weren’t meant to be. There was a different tone to it, now, one that gave them pause: before, talks of revolution had been full of determination, boldness, grandeur. Yes, people whispered about it in shadowed corners, but they did so too loudly, and with alcohol on their breaths. This… This was different. Cold steel and careful rationality. Best-laid plans. And coming, not from disgruntled laborers or upstart nobles, but from people it shouldn’t be. They could have easily hoisted themself up, from where they were, onto the pier in one swift motion, but instead, they let go of the strut, plummeting to the water, and disappeared an instant before slicing through the surface, a measured dive into the void that left them landing on the pier above in a crouch. Mostly material. Close enough that no one would see, behind their mask, if they weren’t. Black smoke rising off of them like fog. “You might want to be careful what you say, talking like that,” they said, voice quiet but sharp and clear even through the mask. “You never know you might be listening.”

EXTRAS x. playlist x. pinterest board x. mockblog

#accepted #accepted: the devil

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larrytcamp · 5 years ago

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18 Must-Visit Attractions in Toronto

What do a pair of Elton John's high heels, a Gothic castle as well as the globe's biggest hydraulophone share? They all function on this listing of the top tourist attractions in Toronto, Canada.

Some destinations in Toronto-- such as the skyline-busting CN Tower, the turrets of the Casa Loma and also the thunderous Niagara Falls down the road-- stand apart like Drake in the front row of the Scotiabank Sector. Nevertheless, others-- like the vendors of St Lawrence Market, the stores of the Distillery Area as well as the murals of Kensington Market-- take a little bit more exploration. Culture Journey has actually done the hard work for you by assembling the leading 18 attractions in Toronto you require to include in your schedule.

CN Tower

Leaving Toronto without scaling the city's most famous site would resemble visiting Paris as well as not bothering to see the Eiffel Tower. This trip gives a special perspective from the sharp end of the CN Tower, thanks to the stomach-churning glass flooring that looks overs the Toronto roads 1,122 feet (342 meters) below, in addition to the Hunt level and al fresco SkyTerrace staring out over Canada's most significant city. It leaves at 9am everyday from Nicholby's memento store on Front Street West for 150 Canadian dollars ($ 116.93).

Gallery of Impressions

If you're expecting your stock-standard hall of mirrors and a number of shrinking hallways, get ready for a shock. Toronto's Museum of Illusions is an extremely contemporary take on the old fairground funhouse-- a minimalist space that opened in 2018 with an Instagram front of mind. Found on Front Street East with tickets starting at 23.50 Canadian bucks ($ 17.93), the museum feels even more like an art gallery than some tacky carnival tourist attraction, with each item discussing the aesthetic hoax at play along with a pen explaining the best selfie area.

Ripley's Aquarium of Canada

With vicious tiger sharks, slippery eels, entrancing jellyfish and 450 various other types of unique aquatic life inhabiting the country's largest indoor aquarium, Ripley's Fish tank of Canada brings in substantial groups. While long lines snake around the block in the darkness of the CN Tower, you can avoid the line with this ticket for 49.80 Canadian bucks ($ 33.76). It's supplied directly to your smart device, and also the rate includes pet feedings and talks. Under the sea, easy.

Hockey Hall of Popularity

If hockey is a faith in Canada, after that this is the cathedral where the faithful come to prayer. Occupying Brookfield Place's historic Bank of Montreal building in the heart of midtown, the Hall of Fame flaunts the globe's largest collection of hockey artefacts, consisting of the original Stanley Cup locked away in the bank vault. Nevertheless, you don't need to be a hockey nerd to appreciate the reproduction NHL clothing space or the interactive video games-- as well as at 20 Canadian dollars ($ 15.59), admission is a bargain.

Distillery Area

Once home to the largest whiskey manufacturer in the British Empire, the cobbled alleyways of Toronto's Distillery District supply a flawlessly maintained time capsule of Victorian-era commercial design. This heaven of red-brick storehouses can be difficult to navigate for a first-timer, so leave it to an expert overview. On this one-hour tour for 23.73 Canadian dollars ($ 18.42), you'll stroll via the indie dining establishments, boutiques, bars, galleries and cinemas that make the Distillery District among The Six's coolest cultural districts. You'll additionally get to example some local craft beer and chocolate at the end. Yum.

Casa Loma

Seldom has a name fell short to record the grandeur of a place fairly like Casa Loma, which implies "Hillside Residence" in Spanish. An even more accurate title would've been "The extravagant Gothic castle plonked in the middle of Toronto," which just starts to explain the majesty of this 18th-century masterpiece just north of the bohemian Annex area. The royal residence of Sir Henry Pellatt eventually bankrupted the power tsar in the 1920s, although Casa Loma is a lot kinder on the purses of visitors than the man that developed it-- you can tip inside each day for simply 30 Canadian dollars ($ 22.89).

Royal Ontario Gallery (ROM).

Greater than 13 million artworks, social things and natural history samplings live under the ROM's jagged, ultra-modern roof covering ignoring Queen's Park in the city's north; on a busy day, it feels like there's practically the same variety of site visitors who have actually crowded in to see them. The good news is, you can get hold of a skip-the-line ticket for just 20 Canadian bucks ($ 15.32) and also access an exclusive share entrance point, giving you more time to look into the globe's biggest fossil collection, a colossal variety of dinosaur skeletons and also the largest event of Chinese architectural artefacts outside China.

Bata Shoe Museum.

While a gallery dedicated to footwear could seem around as amazing as a trip to a cardboard box manufacturing facility, the Bata Footwear Museum is just one of the quirkiest, coolest and also most compelling collections in all of Canada. Sitting simply down the block from the ROM in a building formed like a shoebox, this gallery steps (get it?) with the 4,500-year history of footwear, from indigenous boots put on in the Arctic to stylish sliver systems worn by Elton John. At 14 Canadian dollars ($ 10.89), it's also one of one of the most budget friendly destinations in Toronto.

Toronto Islands and Centreville.

Not all of Toronto's big-ticket items lie on dry land, as you'll figure out on this one-hour cruise ship of the harbor. For 26.55 Canadian dollars ($ 20.61) and departing from Queen's Quay Terminal-- southern of the city center-- this excursion takes in the shallows of the Toronto Islands, the nude beach at Hanlan's Factor, the glamorous Island Yacht Club as well as the serene wildlife haven, as well as the panoramic view across the water back towards The Six's soaring horizon. The Centreville Theme Park on Centre Island is an excellent stop for the children, as well.

St Lawrence Market.

A symbol of the Old Town area because the early 1800s, St Lawrence Market made the title of the world's leading grocery store from National Geographic in 2012. And also to taste the best of the 120 merchants that converge on this grand old industry, you require a little professional advice. For 89 Canadian bucks ($ 69.38), join your guide on a walk with a smorgasbord of St Lawrence's most mouthwatering specials, sinking your teeth right into every little thing from Indian candy and Ukrainian pierogi to Toronto's famous peameal bacon. Mmmmm, bacon.

The post “ 18 Must-Visit Attractions in Toronto” was first appeared on Culture Trip by Tom Smith

Looking for IV therapy services in Toronto? Contact The IV Lounge.

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nedbathroomremodeling-blog · 5 years ago

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17 Superstars We'd Love to Recruit for Our Kitchen Remodeling Team

Quite a lot of internet site might have primarily high-end Mumbai not finished building duties. Yet another substantial benefit of upcoming residential initiatives in Mumbai is the deluxe to tailor the confrontings as well because the installations. Even in case you are trying to find upcoming residential projects in New Mumbai Home Construction or model-new future tasks in Mumbai and adjacent suburban areas, you should be able to surf by means of every proposition that the city sprawl has to supply. The Florida development lien was designed to protect those concerned in a development project who will not be correctly paid. Who says you can only use vinyl cutters for vinyl plastics only? Minutes moreover items Projects in Mumbai be had likewise vicious circle the consideration of great people, who throng desired big flocks daily with a singular dream of succeeding. Among the premiere builders in Kochi city accomplished constructing projects like laying of oil pipelines, multi storied business complexes, procuring complexes, factories as well as executive suites. Numerous houses intend to intend prematurely and likewise although they keep conserving in addition to organizing, most Mumbaikar attempt to take a look at purchasing upcoming tasks in Mumbai. Just a few other would actually detail in depth term initiatives Mumbai needs to pointer from specific actual estate brokers in addition to not from every nook and corner of the neighborhood and also too.

You will certainly no approach identify specifics of largely all Under Construction Housing Projects In Mumbai . Some web sites would actually have simply larger facet Mumbai upcoming residential jobs. Women and men would probably supply partial job probabilities Mumbai must current through chosen real-estate federal government physical bodies as an alternative of by means of border as well as location using town place as well as previously. By executing it, you dont must make more monotonous steps in addition to spot jogging, by performing the power dance; your coronary heart will effectively pump whereas adding some extra beats to the pulse which can be great. This will tremendously improve the value of your property and extra dwelling consumers will probably be attracted to it by the innovative vitality conserving feature. Most individuals spend quite a lot of time in their kitchens and updating it provides nice resale value for the house. As a builder of over 200 properties in Texas, we developed methods to cut the constructing prices and nonetheless maintain the appraised Value and the overall Quality of our building. Real parts which consequently subsequently outcome abdominal muscle mass the very same selection from the same, starting from stock alternate paying step for that excellent wind move, for that fixed regulators and even an total improbable financial cases.

Nowadays often there a variety of assorted BHK homes with Chembur as well as to three BHK homes inside just Chembur furthermore, all by means of this kind of unfinished activity. Though this would require a considerable addition within the works and prices, the result would positively pay off. The ultimate consequence was a complete overhaul. Construction is hardly a precise science, and it's extraordinarily unlikely that you're going to be able to incorporate every attainable idea you will have in the final design. When it comes to design master bathroom the crucial components to be thought of is whether the grasp bathroom is positioned inside the grasp bedroom. After getting decided on your finances, commit to it and design an area that may meet all of your wants. Although you are not replacing your kitchen cabinets you may still rebuild them if you need more storage space. Even in case you are on a tight funds, there's quite a bit that you can do to make your kitchen look fashionable and more functional. It is focused on the beautification of a certain a part of the house and remodeling them to make it look good.

You must remember that putting a unique shade or shade to part of the house may also help improve its magnificence. Homebuilders are able to offer supplies in any coloration and shade conceivable. There are numerous commercials skillfully entrances recognized advertising and advertising together with workout quick ingredient weblog posts through residence producing fitters on the mom and dad. A number of your fitters nowadays gives a vital amount of wonderful along with advantage engaged varieties similar to pool area place, fitness as well as well being service together with gardens with their work. All that work will probably be done by millwork fabricator. If these five steps have been achieved, bought the house for you and family undoubtedly will provide comfort for you and your loved ones. Keep all the gadgets which might be you aren't using and remove all the pointless stuffs within the home. Because of this you'll have the ability to prioritize and ensure the necessary components of the house are labored on first. You don't must repaint the entire house. Regional construction specialist has really been understood to satisfy particular applies for max fully, so all it's a must to do is work out the elections you presently requirement.

In case you personal a property and there is a few plumbing, electrical, or general construction work that needs to be achieved then for that it’s important to acquire a permit from the involved department. The general contractor coordinates the work and pays the subcontractors. There's a much better method to hire a contractor to ensure you get what you want; a high quality job at a good value. It's not very common to do any home remodeling without shopping for the very best worth. These residence building organizations do building and supply home at reasonably priced price. Music lovers of classic, country and 70's along with sports activities radio followers are 14 p.c more likely than the common to do home improvements too! This implies you need to consider bills and components to make sense of where the perfect preparations are. Relating to furnishing the dining room, sense and simplicity ought to be the driving elements.

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#Bathroom remodeling #Kitchen Remodeling #General Contractor #Home Construction #Home Remodeling #Bedroom remodel #Room Addition

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thecoroutfitters · 8 years ago

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Written by Guest Contributor on The Prepper Journal.

Editor’s Note: This post is another entry in the Prepper Writing Contest from JD. If you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and possibly win a $300 Amazon Gift Card to purchase your own prepping supplies, enter today.

This article may open up a can of worms, but I think the premise needs to be thought on. Altoids survival kits, in my not so humble opinion, suck. It seems to be one of the favorite pastimes of the prepper/survivalist community to make and talk about these kits, and how one could “survive” with them. I think the majority of people who make one of these kits put it in their vehicle or pocket and think that they can survive anything more than a night outdoors, are kidding themselves. And unless the one night you need to survive outdoors is in a northern climate during the winter months, pretty much anyone in decent health can last a night outside without such foolish kits. In other words, the point I’m trying to make is, if all one needs is to last a night before rescue, one can stay a night without one of these kits. Or any gear for that matter. But if things are bad enough that you need a survival kit, I’d want something substantially better. I understand that survival is something that we cannot guesstimate. We don’t know how long it will be before rescue, or finding the way out. Therefore, why rely on some joke of a kit to see you through? There are better options…

The main flaw of an Altoids kit, is that you can hardly put anything in them! The three basics of survival are shelter, fire, water. After those, food, and defense. Let’s look at these basics applied to the Altoids Survival kit.

Shelter: you cannot fold up a tarp to put in an Altoids Survival tin. How much paracord can you get into a tin along with all the other stuff? Not much. A primary tool to make shelter is a good fixed blade knife. I’ve seen where some pics displayed a Swiss Army knife in the kit. I’ve built many shelters in the outdoors and not a one of them would I wanted to have to use a Swiss Army knife to build them with. In reality, the main blade of a Swiss Army knife is good for not much more than sharpening a stick to cook a hot dog on. It isn’t made for heavy-duty use. Now in certain areas and climates of the country, you may not even need a knife to make a debris shelter. But I assure you, in the northern climates where I live, you will need a substantial shelter when snow is on the ground. One that will require a sturdy framework. Which means having a capable cutting/chopping tool. Ever baton firewood with a Swiss Army knife? No me neither.

You can fit a lot of things in an Altoids Survival Tin, but will it help you Survive?

Fire: OK we can put matches in an Altoids tin. Just don’t drop it in water, because the tins are not waterproof. Bic lighters when wet are iffy. Sometimes they will work sometimes they won’t. You can almost count on it NOT working when you need it most. Some of the smaller ferro rods and strikers will fit into a kit. I’m just not much of a fan of the gimmicky small equipment. When I’m cold and wet and its 30 degrees outside, I don’t want to mess around with some ferro rod that is an inch long putting out measly sparks. I want something that’s gonna rain down a shower of sparks that are 5000 degrees into my bird’s nest of tinder to get a fire going as soon as possible. Yes we can put waterproof matches in the kit. OK, I’ll give you that one. But how many are you gonna need? How many can you put into the kit still leaving space for all other items?

Water: you can’t carry any in a tin. You can’t get a water filter in a tin. The tin is hardly a container. If you’re in a desert environment, managed to get a fire going but need to boil water, your time is going to be consumed filling up your Altoids tin and boiling water because it’s not large enough to carry the necessary amount of water to stay hydrated. Depending on where the water source is, this could be a vicious circle.

Same deal with food and defense. You’re not gonna get a mountain house pouch or MRE stuffed into the kit nor will you get any kind of firearm or blade suitable for defense in one. I see lots of pics on the internet where people put band aids in them for first aid. Folks, a band-aid is NOT going to save your life! Real first aid gear deals with trauma, gunshot wounds, major lacerations, broken bones, etc. Good luck using those band aids on a compound fracture.

Does this cover the basics of Shelter, Water and Fire?

I also see people put X-acto blades in their kits. Really?! Trying to use those to cut something when your hands are freezing sounds more like a serious injury in the making. But fear not! There are much better options for a mini survival kit that will actually be of value if the time comes when you need it.

There are many manufacturers out there nowadays making pouches of all sizes, some of which are waterproof and ones that aren’t can be made waterproof by using a waterproofing type spray. These pouches are much bigger than an Altoids can but smaller than say a fanny pack or a butt pack. Lots of them have compartments and or loops made of elastic material to organize the contents. You can pack them with real first aid gear like gauze rolls, tourniquets, clotting agents, etc.

Real fire starting devices like a blast match or my favorite formerly known as the Gerber strike force. Now it’s made under Ultimate Survival Technologies, still known as the strike force. I’ve had mine over 20 years and started 100’s of fires and it’s probably got another 20 years left before I need to replace it. These pouches are large enough to pack a LifeStraw or Sawyer Mini filter to get clean water into yourself to maintain hydration. SOL makes a tarp/survival shelter that easily fits into some of these pouches. At the very least you can pack a space blanket or two. Another item which won’t fit in a tin.

My personal mini kit that I keep in my vehicle is the mini EOD pouch from High Speed Gear Inc. I’ve got enough stuffed into that pouch that I could stay a few nights outdoors, find my way, light my way, stay warm dry and hydrated. I can also stop bleeding while munching on some Cliff bars LOL. I think the Altoids kit is not a serious option when things get salty. For a little money, way better choices can be had. An Altoids kit can be better than absolutely nothing, if you have the proper items put in it, but in my opinion, it’s still a joke.

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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That Time Xena Was Directed by Potsie From Happy Days

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In a time of ancient gods, warlords, and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. But they got a Potsie. Hello sunshine, goodbye rain. Xena: The Warrior Princess, in its second season, was already at the forefront of progressive heroics, and its star Lucy Lawless embodied the power of the feminine mystique. Xena was forged in the heat of battle, with the power, passion, and courage to change the world. And she had many gifts. Anson Williams, who originated the role of Warren “Potsie” Weber on the network TV hit Happy Days, helped wrap a pivotal episode, “Remember Nothing.”

Xena: The Warrior Princess is a spin-off of the television series Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, but Xena and Gabrielle (Renee O’Connor) are no Laverne and Shirley. Xena was a guest character on three episodes of Hercules in an arc which was supposed to leave her dead. But she was too popular to go without a fight. The first season of Xena established it as a rising cult favorite, and by its second season it reached the top slot for weekly syndicated hour long drama. A lot of this had to do with the fact that “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” both the name of a series’ favorite, their vampire episode, and the overall enthusiasm of the cast and creative team.

Xena met her son and spared him the weight of her past in the first episode of the second season, “Orphan of War.” The following installment finds her longing for a more innocent time. “Remember Nothing” pays tribute to Frank Capra’s wishfully thinking 1946 Hollywood classic It’s a Wonderful Life, and to bring back the nostalgia, the producers brought on an alumnus of Happy Days to direct. The classic comedy series rode in on the wave of golden goldies retrofits like Grease and Lords of Flatbush to whitewash the era of early rock and roll for mainstream TV. The switchblades of contemporary 1950s films like Blackboard Jungle were replaced by flip-combs, and the worst trash talk you were allowed was to tell someone to “sit on it.”

“I wish I’d never followed the sword in the first place,” Xena says in “Remember Nothing,” and it was Anson Williams’ job to disarm her. The first-time Xena director also directed two 1996 episodes of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, “Mummy Dearest” and “King for a Day.”

The premise of the episode is interesting. Battle fury causes Xena to kill a young soldier while defending the temple of the Fates. “Name your reward. If it’s ours to bestow, it’s yours,” the Crone promises in gratitude. “Reward,” a guilt-filled Xena asks in shame. “For what? For killing a boy barely out of his childhood? I don’t want a reward; I want that boy’s life back.”

The Three Fates don’t have that power, but instead spin back time. Allowing Xena to choose a warrior path or remain in an alternate reality where her youngest brother is still alive, and she’s engaged to a young man named Maphias (Robert Harte), who is liable to give up on her, “in ten or fifteen years.” Her mother, sadly, she has to forfeit, as she died in the fight which was erased along with the Xena Mythology. She gets to keep the simple village life, unless she takes a life, even for a just cause.

But the original concept was just as tantalizing. “We were kidding around one day, saying, ‘In our fifth season, we’ll have to do the blind amnesia show,’” the episode’s storywriter Steven L. Sears recalled in a January 1998 interview with Starlog Magazine. “But then I thought, ‘How do you do an amnesia show that hasn’t been done? What I came up with was that Xena doesn’t forget who she is, the rest of the world forgets her.” The storyline changed by the time the completed script was written. “Even though I have co-story credit on it, Chris [Manheim] deserves all the credit,” Sears said. “She changed it substantially and did a wonderful job; she found levels there that I didn’t. I was thrilled.”

Like many of the young actors on Happy Days, Williams learned how to angle the cameras. He went on to direct episodes of Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Beverly Hills, 90210, Charmed, and The Secret Life of the American Teenager. Before Williams made his prime-time directorial debut on a 1987 episode of L.A. Law, he directed afterschool specials and a TV movie about a pre-teen mayor. He expected a lot from his young talent. Maybe a little too much.

“‘Potsie Weber’ directed [this] episode, and I remember him yelling like crazy at the boy who played my brother, Aaron Devitt, trying to wring a good performance out of him,” Lawless recalled in Robert Weisbrot’s 1998 book The Official Guide to The Xenaverse. “Anson was just ragging on him, trying to get some Methody-type performance out of him, which was ridiculous because the boy was untrained. He had all the raw material and no sort of craft.”

How Xena: Warrior Princess used Greek Myth

By Juliette Harrisson

Why Xena: Warrior Princess Was Groundbreaking

By Juliette Harrisson

Lyceus, the brother, is central to the arc of the story. The episode begins when Xena and Gabrielle visit a temple of the Fates on the anniversary of his death. Defending the temple is the reason Xena is granted a second chance. Her brother is the beginning and the end of that chance. It’s a lot of pressure for a young actor.

“It happens with young men, usually, that you can only yell at them so long and they come to a little crisis point,” Xena recalled in Weisbrot’s book. “They say, ‘This is ridiculous., this cannot be happening to me.’ And he just started to laugh. And so, I went out the back with Aaron and we talked about acting and I tried to get him to loosen up and have some fun with me and just listen and ‘bring me in.’ And I think he did have more fun but it gave him a terrible shock about acting. He said he’d never do another part without going away to drama school. Yes, Aaron was very much like my [real] brother Daniel.”

“Sometimes I think our actors get nervous working with Lucy because she’s the star,” teleplay writer Chris Manheim told Whoosh! in its February 1999 issue. “Remember Nothing” was her first script as part of the full-time staff. She also felt a connection with the Lyceus character. Manheim wrote scenes for the brother and fiancé to build the characters outside of the main stars’ gravity.

“I thought it filled it out nicely and gave you a shot at seeing who that younger brother of hers was,” Manheim told Whoosh!. “I had lost my own younger brother and that was another thing that made the episode so special to me. It made me real tenacious about hanging on to the fact that this is an enormous, momentous decision for her. She can’t blithely say, ‘Well I’ll sacrifice my brother because I love Gabrielle.’ I just could not, no matter what, make it that cavalier a decision. To me, that was the most important, pivotal moment. She had to understand what she was doing for her brother’s good as well as Gabrielle’s and for the Greater Good under all circumstances.”

Williams may have learned a lot about directing while on the set of Happy Days, but he completely missed the power of the Fonz. The biggest change to Xena’s character is that she’s not wearing leather. She spends the episode in village clothes. It’s like those scenes in the early Happy Days when Fonzie (Henry Winkler) is wearing the tan cloth jacket. Suzi Quatro could have pulled off the warrior princess look if “Leather” Tuscadero reunited the Suedes for a 90s tour. Now, I understand Xena isn’t Hercules, she didn’t go through the entire season in one pair of tattered pants, but still. It should be noted.

Xena: The Warrior Princess has a strong feminist overtone and two strong female leads, but very few of the series’ six season run of 134 episodes were directed by women. While this may not have altered the show’s midriff fetish, it might have been more cinematically revealing. The production had certain rules for shooting in order to maintain serial consistency. Visually, it appears Williams deviated from some of the standard dynamics. While he maintained cameras at eye-level, which was a norm for the show to keep the audience in the heat of battle, some of his action sequences are more ensemble-based than Xena-centric.

Which brings us to Gabrielle. She is not forgotten in “Remember Nothing.” The episode reinforces the preordained nature of the mythic teaming. Regardless of circumstances, timelines or alternative universes, Xena and Gabrielle are bound by fate. The historical displacement leaves Gabrielle as a bitter slave to the abusive warlord Mezentius (Stephen Tozer). Her cynicism is palpable, and she wears world-weariness under her very skin. “I thought Renee was brilliant,” Lawless said in Weisbrot’s book. “I thought she was really great [playing] such an awful little tramp.”

While Xena doesn’t rack up much of a kill-count in the episode. Gabrielle guts her vicious master, getting her first kill of the series. “But in this timeline is it the same Gabrielle?” Sears asked rhetorically during his July 1998 interview with Whoosh!. “It was not just the killing, it was the look on Gabrielle’s face. No second thought about it, this was justice as far as she was concerned.”

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The kill ultimately doesn’t count, because this is an alternative reality, and first kills are a big thing on Xena: The Warrior Princess. The jokey disclaimer tagged on at the end of the credits promised “Xena’s memory was not damaged or ….. what was I saying?” But there was no collateral fallout. “Remember Nothing” was filmed from May 8 through May 16, 1996. It aired on Oct. 7, 1996, to an appreciative audience which recalls it quite fondly.

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merffpazuu · 6 years ago

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ethnographer’s specialist area, and much of what he took for granted we were blind to, especially the subtleties of the recruitment process. As he slowly but surely immersed himself within the local bouncing culture, he made important contacts that were eventually to see him receive regular work as a bouncer. Even the slightest mistake at this juncture would see our plans begin to crumble—ask the wrong question, laugh at the wrong joke or react in the wrong manner and it would be back to the drawing board. Getting in: part two In all honesty the vast majority, 95 per cent of people who will work as a doorman have been involved in fights and trouble, because really, they’re the sorts of people who will do the door . . . you can’t put someone on who is frightened to death of a fight . . . suppose a lad is beating a girl up . . . and you’ve never really seen a fight, or you’ve never been in one—what are you gonna do when that guy starts beating his girlfriend up . . . Are you going to go ‘ooh, oogh’; are you going to stand there? you can’t have them type of people on the door; that girl could get killed while you’re stood there. (Darren) Who wants to be, and who becomes, a bouncer is a crucial starting point for understanding the social and cultural context of what is an unusual and dangerous form of employment (Walker 1999). As one experienced bouncer explained, ‘I have had my arms slashed with a knife and I can’t straighten this finger. I’ve had stitches and somebody take a hammer out, have a go at my back and legs while I was held down on the pavement’ (Steve South). Over the course of an evening it may be necessary to ask a notorious criminal to leave the premises, to interrupt a fornicating couple in a toilet cubicle, or to intervene between two groups of brawling men. Virtually anything can fall under the remit of the bouncer, and much of what does would not be considered to constitute a satisfying working environment by much of society (Hughes 1963). Much of the recruitment process is subtle and vague. You are unlikely to see a ‘Bouncer required’ advertisement in the Job Centre or your evening paper.2 The vast majority of bouncers with whom we spoke were recruited by word of mouth, usually through extensive and powerful friendship networks. If you are actively seeking employment as a bouncer, as our researcher was doing, you are also communicating a genuine belief that you can do the job to the required standard. This is the first, and most crucial, phase in recruitment, and may be tested. Often a man seeking employment will ask a friend in or around the profession to help with introductions or directly with the procurement of a job. The friend provides a crucial link and will be used to substantiate credentials. If the potential employee is not known to the employer, be it a bar owner or manager, a head doorman or the head of a security company, informal references will be sought, as in the case of our researcher. Often this will involve recognition of a significant violent potential. They don’t have to be violent or have a reputation for violence, but they have to be able to deploy violence when necessary, and it is this qualification that will need to be clarified. Occasionally violent potential will be taken as read and no references will be sought. If the applicant is large and has a well-developed physique, occasionally this will be judged enough. Bouncers bring with them a crude bodily capital (Wacquant 1992); they are 539 WINLOW ET AL. 2 Several security industry personnel reported the poor response and generally low level standard of applicant emanating from recruitment drives linked to local Job Centres. offering themselves, their bodies, as marketable assets, yet this is not simply a process of use and exchange value (Baudrillard 1993). Almost as important as the physical ability to carry out one’s job is the sign value of one’s body, speech and body language, facial expression and demeanour; they signify the danger inherent in contravening the behavioural strictures imposed in various licensed premises. Customers understand the significance of the muscles, the tattoos and the shaved head, they learn to read the narratives of intimidation that provide order in a milieu that is grounded upon intoxication and the abandonment of day time protocols. If the applicant already has a reputation for the successful deployment of violence, no further evidence will be required. ‘Feats of vicious derring do pack the portfolios of local celebrity bouncers, their reputations for taking and giving punishment forming the cutting edge of their marketability’ (Hobbset al. forthcoming). However, if this is not the case, the potential employer will subtly conduct inquiries from people who know the applicant. Who is he and where does he come from? Have you ever seen him fight? And the ubiquitous, is he all right? Much of this process is conducted in vague inquiries made up of half sentences and knowing glances. A strong friendship with an established player in the night time milieu, or a noted hard man, qualifies the applicant: a kind of hardness by association, that is in fact a functional demonstration of form, as these men are bonded by violent potential which is in itself a culturally informed aspect of self. Occasionally recruitment crises arise where bouncers will be required in a hurry. This may be simply the result of one of the bouncers at a specific bar or club wanting a night off, creating the need for an ad hoc reliable replacement. Enter the friend with all the necessary qualities who needs extra money. Many teams of bouncers, either directly employed by the bar or club or through a security company, will have a group of back up contacts that can be called on in a situation such as this, but space can always be found for a bright young talent. Licensing is also an issue in the arrangement of employment. If you have already got a local authority licence to be employed as a bouncer, your entrance into that profession will of course be significantly quickened. Licensing permeates all aspects of entrance into the profession, and if you can’t get one, as a result for instance of convictions for violence, you may find your way into the occupation blocked. Trying to get a job without a licence, even with useful contacts, will usually result in the applicant being directed to get a licence and then they’ll see what can be done. Few exceptions are made, but again those with the necessary skills in abundance may find a way (Lister et al. forthcoming). However, the most crucial aspect of the recruitment process is that the applicant is conversant with violence. At its most basic this means that at the first sign of violence he is unlikely to run in the opposite direction. Ideally the applicant must be confident and cool in the face of such adversity, deploy violence only when necessary but deploy it accurately and effectively. I’ve had blokes that look as hard as nails but don’t turn up if the trouble starts, they’ll say they didn’t see it but you know they did and just stood there. All that counts is you’ve got to get stuck in there, go in and watch each other’s backs. The most experienced bouncers, the best bouncers, can tell when it’s about to kick off, and they always do things the right way. They talk to people when they need to and dig people when they need to. (Trevor) Most bouncers are thrown in at the deep end once the process of establishing credibility as a recruit was completed. Our researcher and those bouncers we interviewed received little 540 GET READY TO DUCK if any guidance beyond the immediate tactics employed by the door team. It is assumed that you simply know. That you wouldn’t be there doing what you are doing if you didn’t know. Further, this ‘probationary’ period is heavily if informally scrutinized. After sufficient experience was gained, our researcher was polled on what he thought of new recruits, and it is safe to assume that the same process had taken place to ascertain his abilities. As mentioned earlier, many teams of bouncers have a back-up group who can be contacted to cover for the absence of a regular. This system often provides recruits with their first taste of life on the door. You will be asked to fill in, often at short notice, and your willingness to do so combined with your perceived skills and on the job performance will help to determine if you will be invited back. For those with obvious skills (violent repute, large muscles, intimidating appearance, experience etc.) and powerful contacts, this phase will be skipped and regular work will be found quickly. However, our researcher had to go through the process of having to fill in for absent bouncers at a number of bars before regular work was found. A telephone call would be received and a request would be made to fill in, usually at very short notice. Our researcher’s willingness to cancel weekend plans in order to work the door was an appreciated characteristic, and this coupled with his on the job references and preemployment analysis of his potential by friends and acquaintances within the profession, enabled him to gain first, regular work, and then a regular spot at a venue. Given the turbulent working environment, the likelihood of violence, and the inroads made into the night time economy by organized crime (Hobbs 1995; Morris 1998; O’Mahoney 1997), the attractions of being a bouncer are not immediately apparent. Certainly the pay is not likely to bring about a huge lifestyle shift; generally ranging from £25–50 a night. Although the money paid to bouncers often comes cash-in-hand, and consequently is outside the reach of the taxman, the real benefits of the occupation are grounded deep within masculine working-class culture and self-identity (Willis 1977; Winlow 1999), with its powerful appreciation of bodily power, personal and group respect and violent engagement. Perceptions of honour and shame (Armstrong 1998: 233–61) are of course central to ideas of self, and these concerns are not lost on the robust masculinities of most bouncers. Friedrichs (1977: 284) has argued that honour provides a structure for a ‘system of symbols, values and definitions’ as well as ‘categories, rules, and process . . . which may be specific to the given culture’. The negotiation of a lifestyle that maintains honour and avoids cultural definitions of shame (see Winlow et al. forthcoming) are a central concern to the masculine identities of bouncers. As Bourdieu notes, perceptions of honour are strongest in those who see themselves through the eyes of others (1979: 115), and this is certainly true of bouncers, whose class and occupational culture so value a capacity and reputation for violence, and whose working life is spent in the public eye. Being a bouncer allows a demonstrative cultivation of a hyper-masculine persona: from body language to the cut of their clothes to the way they smoke their cigarettes, these men present their behaviour for display and their bodies become tools of ‘impression management’ (Goffman 1969). Their bodies, bearing, expressions and scar tissue are passing on easily decoded messages to bar and club patrons: do as we tell you and do it quickly. Once a job as a bouncer is secured, certain occupational perks are made apparent, particularly in terms of the status and prestige that is locally manifested in the job. Being a 541 WINLOW ET AL. bouncer made the individual someone to be respected, even when no overt violent skills had been submitted for examination. Not just anyone can be a bouncer, so there had to be something there, seemed to be the general impression. Jokes and witticisms offered by bouncers would become more funny, more personal space was provided while pushing to get served at a bar, people would give up seats, offer drinks and cigarettes and business opportunities (Winlow 1999). Many people wanted to bask in the reflected glow of bouncers, hoping some of their toughness and respect would rub off. Everyone wanted to be his friend. Bar customers would make efforts to be entertaining and try to cultivate the friendship of bouncers, sometimes with the hope that they’d be allowed into a night club for free, or that the friendship would pay off somewhere down the line, sometimes for protective reasons and sometimes out of virtual hero-worship. These men possessed cultural capital the potency of which is hard to grasp from outside its enacted environment. Bouncers would generally get into each other’s night clubs for free, and would certainly never bother to queue. A powerful sense of fraternity existed among many of the bouncers studied, and this provided both friendship and protection. To some, being a bouncer allowed them to maintain a lifestyle dedicated to the avoidance of the drudgery of the nine-to-five working day; to lie in bed until late morning, watch daytime TV, go to the gym and see friends, and wheel and deal in the black economy. Being a bouncer could also be fun, as the venues in which they worked often paralleled their own leisure choices. Many bouncers expressed the sentiment that it was occasionally like being paid to go out and socialize. On an evening such as this, time passes quickly, problems appear insignificant and easily dealt with and you can be happy in your work, like being paid to have a good time, and it can seem a shame when last orders is called and you have to leave. Music, flashing lights, sexual promise, and the possibility that just about anything could happen can make Jimmy’z Bar an attractive place to work as a bouncer. (Hobbs et al., forthcoming) Just as every prospective new recruit to the bouncing profession must go through a process similar to that mentioned above, so our researcher had to negotiate entry, coupled with a wider concern with covert access to the wider cultural milieu. Here we were able to exploit connections within the researched culture and the prior cultural knowledge and understanding of our covert researcher. Without these obvious advantages participant observation would not have been possible, and it was the initial understanding that this research strategy was viable and sustainable that helped to shape our first tentative encounters with the occupation and culture. (Hobbs 2000) When attempting to get a job as a bouncer it became absolutely essential to adopt a covert role,3 as not only did bouncers and security companies see no advantage in allowing an academic researcher access to their lives. To them it was imperative that they were employing and working with a bouncer, someone who could adequately conduct himself in a highly problematic occupation. Ethical considerations at this juncture were not ignored, but placed secondary to the pragmatics of getting a job as a bouncer and keeping it. It is impossible to conduct covert research and be entirely truthful with everyone you meet (Denzin 1968), and our choice of research strategy involved the first 542 GET READY TO DUCK 3 For a critique of covert methods, see Erikson (1967). For a discussion of formal ethical codes see Wax (1977) and Norris (1993). of many ethical decisions made during the course of the fieldwork, ‘some good, some not so good’ (Van Maanen 1983: 277). People lie, and bouncers are no exception. Lies were commonplace, especially when discussing one’s own violent experiences and skills, and were in fact taken as a facet of engaging with fragile egos in a world of looking-glass selves (Blumer 1969). Once a job was secured, there was of course no going back. Our covert researcher was now a bouncer and actively fulfilled the requirements of the job. Analytical insight is hard to sustain within the general tumult of a busy bar or night club, and this is especially true when you are required to deal with a succession of highly diverse ‘problems’ over the course of an evening’s work. Writing up material and the necessary academic analysis was left to the next morning when a clear head and the general absence of fear allowed our researcher to revert to being a sociologist doing the job of a bouncer rather than vice versa (Van Maanen 1983). It was impossible to avoid problematic interactions with bar customers, who might well be drunk or under the influence of drugs, and it was impossible to just stand and observe. Any bouncer who did not get fully involved in the job was merely ‘an empty shirt’, and their presence would not only restrict the combined efforts of the door team, but would in fact prove to be an encumbrance to getting the job done. Similarly, it was simply impractical to ‘keep [the researcher’s] mouth shut’ (Polsky 1971: 126–7), as this alone would have served to ‘chill the scene’ (p. 132). On the contrary, it was necessary to be open and communicative, to build relationships by affording respondents a chance to get to know him and form judgments about his abilities and trustworthiness. Our researcher may not have been entirely forthcoming with the absolute truth, but in an often secretive occupation this is far from uncommon (see Winlow 1999). Above all it was absolutely essential to be one of them. You had to talk like them, laugh at the same jokes, comment on the same things, and express similar opinions and sentiments. You had to make them believe that you possessed similar values and goals. Above all you had to do the job like them. On the job: tales from the dark side The stark realities of working as a bouncer became immediately apparent from day one. A powerful anxiety often gripped the stomach as the threat of violence was imbued in the most mundane social interaction: a slight bump, the tone of voice, a spilt drink, a mistaken glance, anything in fact, could trigger a violent confrontation. Aside from this, being within striking distance of large numbers of drunken young men and women can itself be intimidating. While some bouncers seemed to deflect the aggressive atmosphere back on to bar and club patrons, others adopted a more stoic, unflappable attitude. Whatever was about to occur, they gave the impression that they could deal with it. Slowly but surely close friendships were constructed and a complex understanding of the environment and culture quickly followed. Vague tactics and rules slowly began to reveal themselves as the bouncers negotiated a succession of highly diverse problems. The seemingly hectic and off-the-cuff work of bouncers did indeed have some underlying method. For instance, decisions regarding who got in and who got turned away from the door of a pub or club often had a good deal of rational foundation. Wearing your Sunday best informed the bouncers that you were less likely to get in a fight and so damage your attire. Jeans and trainers were fighting clothes and more likely to be

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