#they r almost a decade old and are so cheap

[maddiemuu]

NO. MY ANCIENT FLIP FLOPS ARE FINALLY BEGINNING TO FALL APART. NOOOOOOOO

[marine-indie-gal]

So if you're one of the Many People who follow Me, you'll know that I've created my own Personal Bully Character for my own Rudolph Adaptation Project. Welp, here he is. Just as I've been doubting on what the Son of Blitzen would even look like but after sketching it out and even coloring it, so far, this is the True Concept on how I imagine my own Antagonistic Reindeer character would be.

Meet Storm, one of the Yearlings of one of the Reindeer of Santa Claus (Blitzen) as well as an Arch-Rival to Rudolph. Inspired by the Character from the 1998 Version, Arrow. Those who have seen the Famous Rankin Bass version might very unfamiliar towards the Underrated Goodtimes version (to those who haven't seen nor never watched the 90s version), specifically being very unfamiliar on who this "Arrow" is that I speak of that this Character of Mine is based on within Another (yet, Obscure) Adaptation. 

If you're "Half" the kind of Christmas Movie fan that's unaware of the Lost Media of Christmas films out there or to those who have a Lost Memory in case if any of y'all have at least seen the Goodtimes version in your own Childhoods, I'll give you guys some brief info of where my own Character draws from;

Arrow is a Cousin to Rudolph (specifically in that version where Rudolph is Blitzen's Son, Cupid, Comet, and Dasher are Rudolph's Uncles/Blitzen's Brothers as Arrow is the Son of Cupid). He basically constantly bullies his own Cousin because of his Red Nose at School just to ridicule Rudolph, but only then that it's confirmed that there's a Love Triangle between The Two Cousins over one Doe that being Zoey (not "Clarice" like in the R/B version). In addition to this Original Character's lore, at the Reindeer Games, when Rudolph's Nose glows (only to cause Arrow and the Other Reindeer to go blind and lost the game), Arrow is crowned champ & for some reason, Zoey breaks up with him after all of these years somehow (causing his own Cousin to go off on a Lost Journey where his Ex-Girlfriend had to find him).

Now while I do think that the idea of a Love Triangle for a Character within the Trope of The Ugly Duckling sounds very Interesting, the Writing behind the OG Love Triangle is such a confusing mess that I personally think it could've been done better. I don't wish to spoil every much detail of that version but given on how that Goodtimes Entertainment is a Dead Company, only to be infamously known that their own personal Adaptations are only infamously known to be "Bootlegs", I don't personality understand nor why people would randomly call a Non-Disney adaptation of a Famous Old Story a "Knock-Off" just because of the Cheap Animation that almost looks similar to your average run-of-the-mill Decade 2D Animated Film. Though, one thing that I will have to admit is how some of their adaptations can be poorly written or just left explain as the '98 does have a lot of its problems than the '64 one.

(Seriously, you need to look up on how that their Movies are so comparable to Disney's).

Granted, I KNOW for a fact that the '64 definitely didn't aged well either, but in regards, I wouldn't even want to come close as to wanting to call the '98 version "Problematic", it's just suffers from most of Goodtimes' writing and so many Interesting concepts were left out on what could've been.

Without any further, here is some brief info about my Personal Rival Character;

Storm is the Son of Blitzen and Pele, as well as The Youngest Brother of Lighting.. He is a Braggart whose shown to be Misogynistic, Arrogant, Overconfident, and Narcissistic whose shown to be within of a more "Bad Boy" type as he tends to prove willingly that he's strong enough to pull Santa's sleigh someday in order to follow and take over his own Father's hooves. He's also very envious as he shown to be very jealous of Rudolph. Deep down, outside of his Mean-Spirited Nature, he's shown to be passionate and loyal enough for his Father in order to improve himself that he can be complex when it comes to his practice towards his Flying Skills. 

He somewhat holds an Platonic Interest towards Ava as he likes to tease her just for giggles (though No Romantic Affection is shown as to why he likes her), but he desires to have her and other yearlings be on his Future Team for someday when they fly the Sleigh as The Next Generation of Santa's Reindeer to gain his Father's legacy and prove that he can actually be the lead Reindeer of his own herd.

When Rudolph came to class for the very first time, Storm recognized his Red Nose as he began to make fun of it (causing the Other Yearlings to ridicule him), making Poor Rudolph to cry. However, when Ava came and took Rudolph in her own Friend Group, Storm somewhat became jealous of Rudolph that he took one of the Yearlings off his own future team. Although He didn't seem to care about Ava's own herd anyways, since the Reindeer Bully had to look for New Yearlings for Special Teammates in order to produce a "Friend" Group of his own Herd to start a Bully Posse.

When the Day that the Reindeer Games came, Storm and his own Group rivaled against Other Yearling Teams (including Rudolph's) as The Reindeer Games only had about 5 Teams of their own Herds. But Storm and his Herd were a Match against Rudolph's, beating every level that the Naughty Reindeer Posse could just so that they could afford to win an award of their own. During the Final Showdown, when Storm was about to beat the Very Last Level of the Games, Storm instantly threw dust into Rudolph's eyes, causing his Nose to blast a huge glow (which made Storm's final award to be ruined) as everyone else was very shocked to see Rudolph's shining nose.

This huge level failure caused Storm to be angered and even more envious for he wanted to get revenge on the Reindeer for doing so on what he did to him in the Games.

On a regular basis of a day, He and his Group pretends that they've completely reformed for themselves as Storm (lyingly) apologizes to Rudolph of what he did to him of all these years of ridiculing. Believing in Storm's lie, Storm then leads Rudolph the way (along with his troops) into a long walk through the Forest away from Christmas Town. Confused about where they're at now, Storm instantly pushes Rudolph off of a small cliff as he lands on the Ground hurt which soon reveals the hidden dark truth as Storm and his Gang leave him to rot alone in the Forest.

Throughout the Story, Storm sures himself not be worried about anything if his Father were to find out the Truth about Rudolph or else, he won't get any presents for Christmas as he keeps his own Truth to be hidden while Rudolph and Ava (who are split apart by their own Groups) are still out there looking for each other.

Near the end of the Story, when everyone found out about where Rudolph was all along throughout that Crazy Snow Storm, Blitzen was extremely pissed and disappointed in his Son for not telling the truth all along that he left Rudolph out there in the Woods, when Storm tried to convinced his Father not to ground him and swear that he'll change for the better, he was then punished to be on the Naughty List as he was not allowed to get Presents this Year as Storm would then for now on have to face his own actions for his consequences after when Christmas was over.

In an early concept when creating this Character, I was originally going to name him "Spike" (to try rhythming it with "Blitzen") but then I realize that the first name itself had absolutely nothing to do with the common nature of Blitzen (but I also realize on how stupid the name was and how it was often more of a Dog's name rather than an Reindeer name), so I instantly switched it to a much and more fitting name to suit within of a Spawn of a Particular Folk Figure's Meaning behind the Name itself.

Storm (c) Me Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer (c) Robert L. May

[thoughtful-bastard]

TW: SA / CHILD ABUSE / MENTION OF PREGNANCY

My parents used to make me pay for my own stuff a lot as a kid, and I think they thought it would make me appreciate those thing more. But all it really did was give me money issues and make me cling to anyone that I viewed as an independent source of income since they wouldn't let me get a job.

And some people might think it sounds like im just being a brat, but it wasn't just stuff I wanted like toys or sweets. My last birthday party or anything like that was when I was 10 years old. However, they continued to spend hundreds of dollars every year on my younger sibling's birthday for almost a decade after that. They spent hundreds of dollars a year on clothes, snacks, toys, and school supplies for her, but they would get upset when I asked them to pay for my school supplies because I wasn't old enough to work/they wouldn't let me.

They bought me maybe 5 pieces of clothing a year and only from thrift stores or other cheap sources.

My parents used to get angry at my older brother for planning dinners that they or my younger sibling didn't like, but when they planned dinners, on the few occasions that they did, they would always try to pick something they knew I didn't like.

One of my memories that affected me most, and still does to this day because I'm still trying to learn to love my body because of how much I was fucked up by the way my parents raised me, is when I was eight. I had just gotten a new pretty dress as a gift from my grandfather, and I was so excited. I put on the dress and felt so pretty, for context I was a chubby kid especially around my tummy but never really had any issues with insecurities before this, so being the excited kid I was I went to show my parents my new dress. Only to be quickly greeted by my father declaring loudly, "You shouldn't wear that, you look pregnant." Something that he knew I was terrified of even as an eight year old, my parents made sure of that, was also something that he was so quick to casually use against me.

Another time I remember distinctly was being sat down in the kitchen in front of my father after I had taken too long to do the dishes. He peeled a mango and ate it in front of me, I had not eaten all day, while lecturing me on how, "if you keep acting like this you're gonna end up as some gutter trash whore sucking dick for crack rock." He also licked and spit on the mango peels and then covered me in them and told me, "better get used to it, it will be a lot worse when you end up sleeping in a dumpster." Then he got mad at me for crying.

Not long after that, I was sexually abused for months by a guy in my class, who I still went to school with for years afterwards and he was later arrested for sexually abusing and r wording (sorry i can't bring myself to even type the word) several others and trying to murder several of his family members.

My father made a lot of sexual assault jokes around me after that. He continued to make those jokes well into my late teens.

A lot of you might notice that I haven't talked a lot about my mom yet, that's because she was rarely ever around. When she did interact with me and my older brother, it was mostly to yell at us to take care of the youngest or clean the house. However, there was the time she chased me through the house and beat me with a wooden spoon for swearing at her, I was 12. She hit me so hard that I had bruises for several weeks, a few of which were on my face.

[darthschabba]

I will never understand how this monster came into being.

I shall never understand how people got confused by him.

How he con ned them.

How he cashnoogled them.

How he has pulled the wool over the eyes of so many stupid stupid people.

You should have smelled his bull shit from miles away.

Everyone . Everyone should have felt and known what an absolute fuckfest he was gonna bring to the shityourpantschucklefucklefuck witt show.

First off.

He is physically ugly and so repellent to even look at.

His demeanor and posture should trigger warning bells in the bac k of your mind.

Your Spider-sense should already be tingling.

Every part of You should be triggered.

There is something wrong with this guy.

From 1500 feet away you should know this chucklefuck is going to shitt his pants or already has. And if he can , he will shit in your pants as well.

From his cheap cheap cheap looking style-less suits to the way he wears those stupid fucking long ties. You should know Something is most certainly wrong.

That face is fully ugly.

It is a big pile a beef.

He s not an attractive human being.

The fuckn hair.

That birds nest of straw and glue is

ridiculous.

His whole image is that of a clown.

A buffoon.

A ridiculous chucklefuck.

A moron.

But ... let's dismiss this.

Maybe you can't see well or you too are fashion impaired.

He has never ( ever ) ever done anything correctly in his entire life.

He was handed a huge fortune .

Which he pretended was his from hard work and genius. But like so many " billionaires " and other rich people it was inherited from some one else and they just let every one believe that it was their hard work.

He made his money from stealing from others. Year after year. Decade after decade.

When he wasn't out right grifting he was stealing by not paying people what he owed them.

He constantly low balled legitimate businesses into giving him services and merchandise at under cost just because he is such a shit of a person.

There is news articles and stories for decades about how he orders goods and services and products that are custom made just for him and he doesn't pay for them .

Many businesses have gone bankrupt or almost from his bullshit.

He s a liar. He s a known liar. A terrible human being. A shitty business man . A thief.

His charity was shut down because he was stealing from it.

When he was president. Of these united states. He did almost nothing. Except make himself rich.

He sowed dissent among the unsatisfied and content alike.

He pushed his nazis esque agenda onto the Country and allowed the worst of us to feel emboldened to come out into the light to shit their vile hatred upon the land.

He decreased Our standing among The World and damaged The United States ' reputation.

He fucked up our relationships with other countries.

He did damage to this Country and to The World that might never be repaired or fixed.

He stood idle , as a virus that killed millions ran rampant through the land .

As president ... he could have spoken to the whole land and all her people and encouraged everyone. He could have just let fauci ( who had decades of experience dealing with pandemic situations to handle the problem ) do his job.

But trump couldn't be bothered.

It s on his head that we all lost those 3 years.

Its on his head that a million people died from covid ( and some medical professionals say its more like 4million people. )

He didn't do anything . He washed his hands of it all.

He gave stupid advice on how to deal with the virus.

And even when he got covid ( and had the best medical care in t he whole world to help his old ass ) he did nothing but hinder the cdc s and fauci's ability to get things ameliorated.

His presidency was a grift. Like all the things he has ever done in his life ... his presidency was a joke and it was just there to make him money.

But. Of all the horrible and terrible things he has done... of all his crimes ...thee arguably worst is:

He stole classified documents and sold them to either the Russians ( or ) some other power. And got cia operatives killed .

Like the plot of a mission impossible movie...

This chucklefuctchucklefuck stole the Goddamn NOC list to our secret agents and gave it or sold it to a foreign power or foreign powers and got undercover c.i.a. agents killed.

This alone should put him in prison.

He betrayed this country on multiple levels . Multiple times .

He has committed treason against The USA and her people.

And he should receive the death penalty for what he has done.

How is he already not in prison.

And I can not forgive any one who voted for him or was for him.

And I do not know how repbz can still be for this guy.

If you are a repb at this point you are delusional.

Or stupid.

And that is what it comes down to.

For you to be on the side of the repb and or donald trump at this point :

You are either stupid . Very very very stupid.

Or you have some kind of severe brain damage or need for medication and should not be voting because your judgment is severely impaired.

Or

You are not just an asshole shitbrick.

You are not just some kind of creepie fuck who likes chaos ;

Your a legitimate bad person.

An actual evil fuck who wants to watch the World burn down .

Or at least you are an enemy of the usa and you want the country and its people to fall apart and suffer.

And it is unforgivable.

[encrucijada]

DISASTERS TO SLEEP THROUGH by ester cuervos

✶ genre: low fantasy, cosmic horror maybe?? ✶ category: adult ✶ pov: first person referral (marilú as “i”, cruz as “you”) ✶ inspired entirely by this, cartoon saloon’s song of the sea but make it dark and gritty??, also taking inspiration from over the garden wall for the tone, unhinged women all around, set in 1986 just because, let us ignore the technicalities of running a lighthouse, i think this is magical realism but i’m unsure ✶ cw: thalassophobia, body horror, emotional manipulation, mental illness ✶ themes: loneliness, family, fear of the unknown, co-existing with the unknown ✶ tone: eerie, isolated, apprehensive, cutting, blue hour

a b o u t : marilú is a lighthouse keeper, has been for almost a decade now. she could count the people she talks to with one hand, one of those being her older sister galatea. the only consistent company she’s had are her dreams and the creatures of the ocean, shadows under the water, sirens on the rocks. when dealing with her divorce, galatea leaves her daughter cruz with marilú until the matter is resolved. to spare cruz from getting hurt or scared, marilú tries to keep her asleep until galatea comes back.

c h a r a c t e r s :

✶ marilú. a nonbinary aro/ace because i like to live vicariously through my ocs. spends more time with creatures than humans so she has lost all her communication and social skills. “do as i say not as i do.” weird girls simply grow to be weird adults. good intentions but bad execution.

✶ galatea. voted less likely to get caught committing a crime. energy of a sophisticated lady wearing a wide-rim hat tied with lace under her chin, having lunch on a balcony in the mediterranean. suffering from older daughter syndrome. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

✶ cruz. hard of hearing (wears hearing aids). inspired by lyra silvertongue from his dark materials. bratty and feral the way only little girls manage to be. more like her aunt than she apparently realises. hasn’t had a near death experience yet so feels invincible.

aesthetic: stark white lighthouse on a rocky island, a dark blue ocean and a grey sky, houses so close to the water they get touched by the waves, flickering light bulbs, raindrops on windows refracting light, water so cold it numbs your hands when you wash them, charcoal drawings that make no sense, old music boxes, old plush toys with not nearly enough stuffing, something scurrying within the walls, grainy shows on a box television set, the chill of blue hour, the feeling of minuscule insignificance, a beach of rocks and grey-brown sand, phone static cutting through words, cheap plastic signs of corner stores and restaurants lit from within, driving along a long bridge over the water, a massive figure from the ocean depth, the crushing feeling of loneliness, so many thoughts you can’t breathe

playlist: before we drift away / nothing but thieves ; doing the right thing / daughter ; deep water / american authors ; the lighthouse / halsey ; hiding in the blue / thefatrat ft. riell ; my mother told me / nati dredd ; deep end / ruelle ; arsonist’s lullabye / hozier ; made of stone / daughter ; we must be killers / mikky ekko ; bedtime / annie eve ; sleep / the last bison ; shallows / daughter ; city lights / the hollow man ; black water / of monsters and men ; sirens / fleurie ; you / keaton henson ; neon brother / nothing but thieves ; winter / daughter ; home / daughter ; the weight / amber run ; the ghost on the shore / lord huron ; the unwanted animal / the amazing devil ;

[mimisterie]

𖣠﹐ghost of the eighth star!

❝ hongjoong wants to move into a larger apartment to accommodate for his art studio but almost every place he comes across is way out of his budget. then he finds the perfect place at the perfect price. he will soon find out why the place was so cheap ❞

┆ paring! — artist!hongjoong x gn!reader

┆ genre! — “horror / thriller”. angst.

┆ warnings! — mentions of infidelity and murder. actual murder. mentions of suicide. urban legend (not a real one i don’t think. i made it up myself). insanity. delusions. hallucinations. haunting. seonghwa makes an appearance.

┆ word count! — 3.6k+

┆ taglist! — @the-marionettes-locket ♡

being an artist, hongjoong never seemed to have enough space. he needed every single piece of square footage possibly to accommodate for his supplies. it was just getting harder as time went on so he decided to finally pack up and looking for a bigger place. however it was extremely hard finding a huge place that wouldn’t break the bank

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

he searched for weeks and then he found the perfect spot. it was a loft in the heart seoul. it was previously used as a office space but now it was going to be used as his very own art studio. it was extremely cheap but hongjoong was too excited to question it.

the apartment was really nice and spacious too. it even had a huge mirror against the wall that hit ceiling to floor. it seemed like a win-win since he's been wanting a huge mirror anyway. after signing his lease, he moved his things into the loft right away. he finally didn’t have to stress about where his canvases were gonna go or where he was gonna store his thrift clothes that he plans to flip.

on the first night, hongjoong felt a strange presence within the loft but didn’t think too much of it. i just have to adjust to being in a new spot that’s all he thought to himself while organizing the little corner he decided will be his bedroom.

days turn into weeks and he just couldn’t shake the eerie feeling. while he was relaxing on his couch searching the internet for new paints, he felt the seat next to him dip. " hey! who’s there?! " he frankly gets up and shouts facing the couch as a shiver rushes through his body. the figure on the couch makes itself visible and soon hongjoong is greeted with the purest smile he has ever seen

" hi! i’m y/n " you wave at him. hongjoong rubs his eyes and refocuses on you to make sure he’s not hallucinating. you sigh before standing up and making your way to stand in front of him. he tries to take a step back but you reach out and stop him. another shiver runs down his body and he felt you cold transparent hand touch his skin

" before you ask any questions, let me get the basics out of the way: you are not imagining me, i am real. i’ve lived here for 67 years. all i want is your help. " you said trying to make him comfortable. hongjoong was so shocked that his vision went black before his body hit the floor. you moved him from off the cold floor and into his bed. this happens all the time. you knew that your existence alone was enough to send someone into a early grave.

you ran your hands through hongjoong’s hair as he lies in his bed. he looked… peaceful. it brought a smile to your face. hongjoong's eyes slowly fluttered open and greeted your soft face staring down at him. hongjoong was two seconds away from screaming at the top of his lungs. " please don't scream. " you said softly. he closed his mouth but the fear never left his eyes. that was the same look e v e r y o n e gave when they first saw you. it's understandable right? how else are you suppose to react when you see a six decade old ghost lingering in your home?

" please explain to me what is going on." he asked. he sat up against the headboard of his bed and you took a sit directly in front of him. " my name is y/n. i died sixty-seven years ago. i've been stuck here on earth and i need your help ". hongjoong had no idea how to react to that statement. he didn't even know if this was even real. he swore he was dreaming. " if you died sixty seven years ago, how come you look my age? " he asked widening his eyes to appear less scared. it didn't work but it was adorable you giggled at his question. no had ever asked that

" that's because i died when i was 22 years old. " he nodded at that. " is there anything else you want to ask me? " you asked. " you said you wanted my help. how can i help you? " he asked. finally the important questions. whenever someone moved into your loft, some would try to help you but ultimately fail and pay the ultimate price. you couldn’t help it. you definitely had some type of curse attached to you. you smiled at him trying to show you're harmless

" my partner and i use to live in this loft. we were madly in love, at least i thought so. i thought we would be together forever. that was until i caught him sleeping with another. after that, we parted ways. i died of a broken heart in this loft ". that was the story you told everyone who lived here.

he sighed hearing your words, it sounded straight out of a movie. " the only way i'll be able to move on is if i forgive my ex partner but i cannot find it in my heart to do so. that's where you come in " you continued. " so all i have to do is help you find forgiveness? " he raised an eyebrow at you. he felt very weird. there's a ghost in his house yet why does he suddenly feel so... comfortable. you did have that affect on people. it was almost like a power of yours. you nodded at hongjoong's question flashing him a smile

" may i ask what is your name? "

" hongjoong. kim hongjoong "

" it's nice to meet you kim hongjoong "

that was definitely a name you'll remember forever. " tell me about yourself. " he asked. no one ever asked about you. you felt warmness where your beating heart should be. " well i was born on october 24th 1954. that night there was a star that crashed onto earth. scientists believe that star was the eighth star to even be formed in the universe. because of this fact, my family called me the eighth star. you can call me that too if you want "

he smiled softly. " that's actually really cool " now it was your turn to smile. " i think that's the only interesting thing about me. my past lover use to paint me in the stars... it was beautiful ". tears formed in your eyes recalling them. how could they have cheated on you when they've always done so many loving things for you? people always turned out to be liars. even you.

two months later

hongjoong decided to have one of his close friends seonghwa come hang out at his place. he was worried about how you would react to seonghwa more than he was worried about how seonghwa would react to you. hongjoong was leaning against his kitchen island while seonghwa was sitting in one of the chairs in front of it

you were sitting in the other chair right next to seonghwa but of course he didn't know that. there was something about seonghwa that you didn’t like. his aura was a little too dark for your liking. the boys were talking about the most random things for hours on end.

“ why haven’t you published any of your art lately? your last exhibition was successful im sure the public would like to see another one “ seonghwa asked taking a sip on his drink. hongjoong sighed thinking about his last art show. it was a small one but it’s one of his prides. in all honesty, he hadn’t had inspiration for a while. he sighed also taking a sip of his drink and slowly looked over to you

your eyes were completely locked on seonghwa but you remained expressionless. it was really hard to read. “ i just haven’t had the inspiration. my mind has been clouded with other things “

“ hmm? like what “ seonghwa widened his eyes. it was unlike his friend to have creative block. “ there’s someone… “ he started looking down avoiding his friends gaze. seonghwa smiled “ oh! you’re dating someone? why didn’t you tell me?! “

“ i’m not dating anyone. how did your mind go straight to that? " he laughed at his friend. it was always funny how his friend's mind went to the most random scenario. " you haven't dated anyone since we were in high school. it's been a really long time you know " hongjoong has been really focused on his art that he just hadn't made time to meet new people to even start friendships

that was up until you came along. your presence was always there. he found comfort in you. why should he go out and meet someone new. you were sitting right next to seonghwa. there was no way he didn't feel you too... right? " i've been thinking about someone. someone who i have to help " he started slowly, hoping his friend doesn't think he's crazy " really? who do you have to help? "

hongjoong points to the chair next to his friend. seonghwa turns his body in the direction of hongjoong's finger. " hongjoong. sweetheart. " he started " what are you pointing at? "

" y/n of course. can't you see them? " he raised his eyebrow at seonghwa. " y/n? am i suppose to know who that is? ". hongjoong focused back to the chair and notices that it is empty. where did you go. he called out for you and looked around his loft. seonghwa had never seen his friend act this way. he couldn't have lost his mind from stressing out over his work could he?

" hongjoong look at me " seonghwa grabbed hold of his face and made him look deep into his eyes. he had always been a supportive friend. he never doubted hongjoong a day in his life and he's not going to start today. " who is y/n and why do you have to help them? " he asked

how could he explain that theres a ghost living in his house who died from heartbreak sixty seven years ago and needs help to forgive their past lover. theres no way he could explain that without looking completely insane. but maybe he was. " y/n is someone who lives here with me. well actually this is their place and i live here with them. they've been here for the last sixty years. " he started. he looked deeply into seonghwa's eyes hoping he wasn't freaking his friend out, however his eyes just looked calm. he was truly listening to him

" y/n and their partner lived here together. their partner cheated on them and y/n was so heartbroken that they died right in his place. i have to help them forgive their ex so they can move onto the afterlife. " hongjoong looked down avoiding seonghwa's eyes completely afraid of what he might think.

seonghwa took time to think about the information he was just told. it sounded... awfully familiar. " hongjoong can i tell you something? ". he nodded his head before looking back at him

" there's a legend my grandmother use to tell me about this curse. i don't remember much of it but it was about this ghost who tell those they come across about their ex in attempts to help them avenge their death or something like that. " hongjoong tilted his head to the side in confusion. " i don't remember the story word for word but what you just told me sounds all too familiar and nothing good ever happened in those tales. " seonghwa continued and let go of his friends face.

seonghwa started to gather his things getting ready to head home. " look i'm not saying i don't believe you. it just founds too familiar and i suddenly feel very eerie. " hongjoong sent him a reassuring smile, knowing that he would feel weird about what he just told him

however hongjoong didn't find what seonghwa told him weird either. he's been told that story too. his grandparents told him a similar story growing up but never believed in them. he thinks his friend is being paranoid because he knows that you are real. you feel way too real to be just a urban legend. seonghwa checked himself in the huge mirror in the living room before leaving out. hongjoong had already greeted his friend goodbye and went to use the restroom.

seonghwa look the time to admire himself in the large mirror then suddenly goosebumps washed over his body. something strange was happening and he couldn't point what it was. he look a deeper look into the mirror and noticed the image was... moving? everything behind him seemed to be distored. he turned away to see if he was slowly losing his mind. suddenly he felt something grab onto his shoulders and roughly pull him into the mirror.

hongjoong came into his living room and saw a note left on his mirror from seonghwa.

thanks for today ! i forgot to mention that i'm going on vacation with my family for a while so we won't be able to hang but you can text me whenever !! - psh

five months later

hongjoong had grown fond of your presence. you were always around during the times where he felt most alone. considering he lived by himself for quite some time, he missed being around people. yeah sure he had friends but he spent most of his time in his art studio. he found it ironic that his closest friend isn't even alive

you liked hongjoong being around too. he definitely was going to be the one you'll miss the most. living in the apartment together was eventful. it made you think of the moments you had with your past lover. you even started cooking for hongjoong but it never turned out the way you wanted. your cooking skills are based off recipes that are over sixty years old.

whenever hongjoong was working on new paintings or flipping new clothes, he would ask for your input. he couldn't help but think of you whenever he went out

" i wonder if y/n would like this. "

" y/n would enjoy this "

" i wish y/n could have come with me. "

such thoughts would scatter in his mind very often. hongjoong loved that you tried things out of your comfort zone. it was one of this many things he admired about you. many nights he spent laying in the dark just letting his thoughts cloud his mind, bringing his mood way down. now he didn't spend those days alone. he had you

he really wished he could tell his friends about you and how amazing you were. the closer you two got, the more he found himself falling for you. a ghost who is not apart of his world. hongjoong and you were sitting on his couch watching one of his favorite shows these days. you never understood the new generation media. everything seemed so obvious. the show you were watching followed the story of a elf and a sorcerer who fall in love in a society where neither cannot love outside of their realm.

out of all the shows and movies you've seen in your time, this was was very interesting. hongjoong paid extra close attention to the show. it hit a little too close to home than he would like to admit. he felt that his love for you was forbidden. how could he possibly be with you for the rest of his life. thoughts like this crossed his mind way too often

" y/n can i ask you something? " he broke your focus from the tv. you hummed and turned over to hongjoong who was playing with the ends of his sweater " have you ever fallen in love with... someone who wasn't like you? "

" what do you mean by that? "

" i mean you've lived in this place for over sixty years. you've seen so many people come and go. have you ever fallen in love with someone who was.. living? " his question caught you off guard. you widened your eyes and stared at him deep into his soul. hongjoong was full of so many surprises.

" i-i... i don't know... i don't really know what love is " you shyly stated. at that moment. everything just felt right to him. he was about to do the unthinkable. " listen y/n. we've lived together for seven months now. i really love having you around. i feel like... i wanna be with you forever " you smirked at him before giggling a bit

" oh hongjoong... that's what you mean. " it wouldn't be a lie to admit you were smitten by the guy living in your loft. he was adorable and insanely talented. out of all the people you met, he was your favorite. it will be such a shame when the inevitable happens soon " there is a way for us to be together but you'll have to be willing to make some sacrifices. " you continued

" i'm willing to do whatever it takes. i want to be with you and love you forever " you stand up and make yourself comfortable in between his legs. you pushed him back further into the couch and dragged your hands slowly down his chest. " i never told you this before but i have this magical quality that makes everyone fall in love with me. you simply just can't help it "

your words sent chills down his spine. his eyes locked with yours, hearing everything you were saying. " it makes this whole thing so much easier. " your hands wrap around his throat and began to apply pressure. hongjoong didn't think too much of your words. he just wanted to be with you. " you'll always be my favorite trophy my dear hongjoong. " was the last thing he heard before his vision slowly fades to black and his breathing stops.

hongjoong opened his eyes after what seems like hours only to be greeted by a face that was not of his dear y/n. " they got you too? " the person said holding out his to help hongjoong off the floor. he accepted and stood up slowly. he grabbed hold of his neck feeling a stinging pain. the place he was in looked exactly like his apartment, the only color being the people around including him

" what is this place? " he asked looking at the man who just helped him up. " it's what they called 'y/n's mirror' " they boy answered " my name is jeong yunho. " he said before hongjoong could say anything else. hongjoong widened his eyes in surprise. " wait a second. you're the guy that went missing 2 years ago! reporters said your death was a suicide! "

" all of that is true except the suicide part. i was killed by them "

them meaning you.

" so y/n is behind all of this? how is that possible? we're suppose to be together forever. " hongjoong started to panic. “ that’s just one of their lies. “ yunho commented. " the more fucked up part of this is that y/n nor their love ever existed. this is just their sick way of punishing people "

" how is that even possible? how could they never exist when i felt them... " hongjoong's voice got quiet, not even fully processing how you betrayed him. " y/n is just a personification of wrath formed in hell. they are extremely smart and cunning. " hongjoong couldn't believe what he was hearing. then he thought back to what seonghwa said. " so everything they told me.. isn't true? " he asked holding back his tears.

yunho sighed before patting the boy softly on his head and walking away. hongjoong scanned the monochrome apartment at the other people living in this hell. he soon notices his dear friend seonghwa sitting against the mirror. he dashes over to him. " seonghwa! " he called over. seonghwa lifts his head to see his friend running over to him with tears falling down his face. " how the hell did you get here? " hongjoong asked before taking a seat next to him in front of the mirror. " they.. they got me. y/n... " the fear in seonghwa's voice sent chills down his spine. he had never heard him sound so scared. " so i guess that story was true. " seonghwa nodded in disappointment. " so wait how long have you been here? " he asked " i've been here for five months. my family reported me missing "

" wait how come i never heard about your missing persons report then? " hongjoong was beyond confused. there was no word in this world that can describe how he felt " y/n made sure to hide it from you ". the two boys sigh and wait out against the mirror for all eternity. another victim of you.

Breaking News : 22 Year Old Kim Hongjoong found dead in Seoul Apartment Complex on July 6th 2021. Close friend to Hongjoong, Park Seonghwa (23), also reported missing.

On July 6th 2021, surrounding neighbors complained about a rotting smell in their complex. Authorities search the building and concluded the source of the smell was coming from the young males loft apartment.

Autopsy confirmes Hongjoong's death as a suicide by hanging.

About Five months ago, The family of Park Seonghwa reported him to be missing after visiting Kim Hongjoong.

Police decide to reopen investigations on Jeong Yunho (22), Song Mingi (21), Choi San (21), and Jung Wooyoung (21) and connect them to each other. Jeong Yunho mysteriously died in the same building along with Song Mingi going missing around the same time. Jung Wooyoung lived in the same loft with best friend Choi San but both suddenly gone missing.

Police decide to put Kang Yeosang, the best detective in the district, on the case.

✰ mimisterie, 2022 likes and reblogs appreciated! do not repost

[andmaybegayer]

I don’t know where I first heard of the concept of the Ghost Factory but it’s the kind of fascinating and almost certainly untrue urban legend that feels like it’s worth sharing. I probably picked this up from a forum that was serving as a stand-in for your friend’s weird older brother who tells you that humans were genetically engineered by aliens to desire gold and platinum.

The idea of a Ghost Factory (I’ve also heard the phrase Zombie Factory) is that it’s a factory that no one owns and no one remembers. Effectively a massive scaled up version of the Forgotten Employee (if you remember that Something Awful thread).

The concept is simple, and very believable. Some company establishes a factory producing cheap tat, usually via a fairly mechanized process. It’s the 80′s, so factories aren’t all centrally controlled by a head office, they do their own dealings in accordance with guidelines sent down from management, they get a Rolodex with their supply chain contacts, and they have their own little departments for handling shipping, accounts, raw materials, hiring, etc. If there’s too many employees it’s hard to lose track of it but if all you have is an accounts department, a shipping team, a dozen QA testers and some mechanics who look after the tooling, that’s easy to lose. The parent company sets up this factory, gets it some contracts making the hulls of kitchen appliances or whatever, and then, crucially, loses track of it.

I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this, and I don’t think they’re real.

So now you have this autonomous factory, where it basically looks after itself, manages its own finances and handles all its inputs and outputs, which has demands placed upon it by its contracts but no real obligation to report to anyone. Perhaps the manager who was supposed to run it got fired at the last minute and he was replaced by someone hired by the factory’s own HR department. He’s never going to read all the company policies, as long as nothing breaks he’s going to look after his own little kingdom and assume that everyone else is handling the important stuff. No one yells at him from above because his desk phone number was never actually written down, and he tries his best not to think about this.

And so it continues. Year after year, they extend their contracts, order new tooling, repair old machines. If you hang out in certain consumer product forums you’ll sometimes hear people talk about how “oh this is obviously made with legacy tooling” by which they mean “this has been made on the same machine in the same factory for the past 40 years and you can see the lettering blur as the printer plates wear down.”

They have to, by their nature, make low-stakes items. if they made precision machined engine parts then they would never get away with lasting for decades. There’s too much change in that, they’d get asked to test a new technology and they’d realise that there is no R&D division. Where did the parent company go? That’s their business, not ours. But if they make cheap MP3 player case, or stamped metal blender blades, or cast hunks of zinc for kitchen appliances, well no one is going to notice that. Grad Student’s First Juicer Blender Blades come from the factory on their last legs at the best of times, these ones having slightly rolled over edges because the stamp hasn’t been replaced in years is nothing new.

I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this, and I don’t think they’re real.

The story is fascinating, because it looks at a particularly weird time in manufacturing history. The stories are invariably about Chinese factories, probably propped up by the much more accurate stories about ghost towns and the very real existence of thousands of shell corporations that all sell the same product, made in the same factory, silkscreened with a new logo because a thin layer of paint is the only thing justifying their existence at all. The time when mass manufacture was so automated that this could happen but we still lived in a weird unconnected no-internet world where it was still possible to just lose an entire building because your paper records were shoved in a cabinet that someone lost the key for.

It feels like the kind of story that would have arisen during the late 90′s and early 2000′s, when you’re reaching the point where working in a factory is no longer a valuable job because of automation and centralization of manufacturing. What’s more indicative of that than a factory so devoid of human contact that it can be forgotten. Management doesn’t just not care about you, they don’t know about you. You can’t forget about a manual 70′s steel mill in Pennsylvania, it’s too dynamic a space.

I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this. I don’t think they’re real.

[kingstylesdaily]

Why Harry Styles Just Scored His First No. 1 Song

Like any boy band alumnus, he first had to overcome radio’s bias against teen heartthrobs.

Late summer is a great time for sleeper hits: songs that have been hanging around the charts for months and finally hit their stride. Four years ago, in August 2016, Sia’s “Cheap Thrills” reached No. 1 after knocking around the charts since the prior winter, getting its final boost from a Sean Paul remix. In September 2018, Maroon 5’s year-old “Girls Like You” slipped into the top slot after wafting around the Top 10 for more than four months, with a Cardi B verse putting it over the edge. Last year around Labor Day, Lizzo finally topped the Hot 100 with “Truth Hurts,” a song that was two years old and had been rising gradually on the chart since the spring.

This year’s sleeper hit is “Watermelon Sugar,” a wisp of a song by boy bander–turned–self-styled rock star Harry Styles. With a name inspired by Richard Brautigan’s hippie-era, post-apocalyptic novella In Watermelon Sugar, Styles’ lackadaisical tune is not only a sleeper but a grower, the sort of hit that sneaks up on you—I wasn’t sure it even had a fully written chorus the first time I heard it, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. Indeed, the whole nation took its time deciding that this quirky ditty would give the starriest, most eccentric member of One Direction his first-ever U.S. chart-topper.

“Watermelon Sugar” is the third single promoted from Styles’ second solo album Fine Line, which was released last December. That alone is remarkable, given the challenge in the digital age of generating chart interest in anything other than an album’s first couple of singles. Generally, in an era when all of an album’s songs are available to be consumed the day the album drops, you need a remix or a special guest of some kind to gin up chart action months after the song first hits streaming. “Sugar” has none of those. To be sure, there was some gimmickry fueling the song’s leap to the top, albeit of an old-fashioned kind: The song had its best week of sales ever thanks to an assortment of limited-edition vinyl and cassette singles that came bundled with a digital download. Those sales got “Sugar” the last mile on the charts, but Columbia Records wouldn’t have put the physical goods on sale if the song wasn’t already a radio smash—“Sugar” currently has the second-biggest U.S. airplay audience—and they knew they had an opening between current hits by Taylor Swift and a pair of lascivious female rappers I’ll almost certainly be writing about in this space next week. So, fair play to Team Harry: They took advantage of an open chart window, a tactic as old as the Hot 100 itself.

As “Sugar” leaps from No. 7 to No. 1 on the Hot 100 this week—essentially switching places with his ex-girlfriend Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan,” which falls to No. 8—Styles scores only the second-ever chart-topper by a member of One Direction. That includes all of the hits by 1D itself. In its five years of recording, from 2011 through 2015, the band never scored a Hot 100 No. 1. This despite topping the Billboard 200 album chart with its first four studio albums, the only group in history to launch a career with that haul. So … what was that other 1D-affiliated Hot 100–topper I mentioned? It was by ex-member Zayn Malik, the only member to break from the crew while it was still active. Zayn’s smoldering, Weeknd-esque boudoir jam “Pillowtalk” debuted at No. 1—and spent a solitary week there—in the winter of 2016, fueled by blockbuster streams and downloads ginned up by 1D superfans still mourning his departure the prior year and the group’s resulting, presumably permanent hiatus.

Explaining how the top-selling boy band of the 2010s could shift so many CDs and downloads but generate only two No. 1 singles means briefly recapping the fraught history of boy bands and the charts. Selling albums has never been hard for pinup pop groups, since the days of Meet the Beatles! and More of the Monkees. And in the ’70s and ’80s, such precision sing-and-dance troupes as the Jackson 5, the Osmonds, and New Edition managed to generate both gold albums and chart-conquering singles. In 1989, New Kids on the Block had the year’s second-biggest album and four of the year’s top singles, including a pair of No. 1s. But starting in the ’90s, as U.S. radio networks consolidated (fueled by the 1996 Telecommunications Act) and programmers more narrowly targeted specific demographics, radio stations shied away from maximalist teen-pop that appealed primarily to under-18 audiences. By the end of that decade, even as boy bands were enjoying a new wave of TRL-fueled popularity, radio became a chart handicap for them. The Backstreet Boys and ’N Sync had the top-selling albums of 1999 and 2000, respectively—the diamond-selling Millennium and No Strings Attached—but only scored a solitary Hot 100 topper between them, ’N Sync’s “It’s Gonna Be Me.” (Backstreet never hit No. 1: The deathless “I Want It That Way” peaked at No. 6.)

This radio bias against boy bands has persisted into the 21st century. And ever since the Hot 100 went digital about a decade and a half ago, teen-pop’s chart placements have been the result of a battle between rabid downloaders and radio gatekeepers—massive digital sales compensating for modest radio play. For example, radio was what kept the Jonas Brothers from scoring any chart-topping hits during their original wave of teen idoldom; their biggest hit of the ’00s, the No. 5 hit “Burnin’ Up,” sold 2 million downloads but only ranked 55th at U.S. radio. By the ’10s, the same fate befell one-man boy band Justin Bieber. In this long-running Slate series, I have chronicled the blow-by-blow between Justin Bieber and radio programmers that swung from Justin as hit-starved teen idol in the early ’10s to dominant young-adult chart-dominator in the late ’10s. In the early ’10s period, Bieber was a YouTube and iTunes demigod with not a single radio smash to his name. He could sell a half-million downloads of “Boyfriend” in a week and still fall short of the No. 1 spot, thanks (no thanks) to radio.

For One Direction, the chart patterns were the same. A Frankenstein’s monster that Simon Cowell famously threw together in 2010 on his televised competition The X Factor from five solo competitors—Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, and Louis Tomlinson—1D continually found its singles dragged down on the Hot 100 by radio, even as the band sold truckloads of albums. The pattern was set in fall 2012 when “Live While We’re Young” debuted with a staggering 341,000 downloads but could only get to No. 3 on the Hot 100, thanks to its 50th-ranked radio airplay. In the summer of 2013, the slyly Who-interpolating “Best Song Ever” became 1D’s highest-charting hit ever, debuting at No. 2 with record video views and near-record downloads, but at radio it never got past No. 53. “Story of My Life” (No. 6, 2014), “Drag Me Down” (No. 3, 2015)—no matter how many downloads sold or videos viewed, 1D could never top the Hot 100 so long as its radio spins remained limited.

The reason I’m running down all of this granular chart data is it reveals the hurdles both 1D and its post-breakup soloists had to overcome to top the Hot 100. Like Justin Bieber, they had to become credible radio fodder with adults as well as kids. With his early break from the group, Zayn was the first to pull this off. Though “Pillowtalk” debuted at No. 1 largely due to massive sales and streams, the carnal song did eventually become a No. 4–ranked airplay hit. Cleverly, Zayn had chosen a then-current EDM-inflected R&B mode and dropped his debut while the Weeknd was between albums. Other former 1D-ers have had their share of solid radio hits, including Liam Payne’s hip-hop–inflected “Strip That Down” featuring Quavo of Migos (No. 10 on the Hot 100, No. 4 on Radio Songs) and Niall Horan’s softly bopping pop jam “Slow Hands” (No. 11 Hot 100, No. 2 Radio Songs).

And Harry Styles? He decided to make things harder on himself. His 2017 debut album was chockablock with old-school classic rock. This would be like launching a career in 1964 with big-band jazz. While Styles’ fame ensured a big launch for his Bowie-esque single “Sign of the Times”—it opened, and peaked, at No. 4 on the Hot 100, fueled by strong downloads—radio showed only moderate interest. It eventually reached a modest No. 21 on the airplay chart. Later Harry singles like the twangy “Two Ghosts” and the thrashy “Kiwi” missed the Hot 100 and had little radio profile beyond a handful of pure-pop stations that were loyal to Styles from his 1D days. One admired Harry for following his artistic muse—more Joni Mitchell than Justin Bieber—but as a pop star, he arguably squandered his momentum coming out of One Direction.

What has made Fine Line, Styles’ sophomore album, such a clever left turn is he retained the rock flavor he naturally gravitates toward but converted it into mellow California-style surf-pop, and he let his production team—Tyler Johnson and Thomas “Kid Harpoon” Hull—fashion the songs into percolating radio jams. Each single has opened the door a bit wider: “Lights Up,” a No. 17 last October, is lightly strummed beach music with ethereal backing vocals. And “Adore You,” a No. 6 hit in April (for my money, still Styles’ best single), is thumping electropop. “Adore” in particular served as Styles’ entrée onto radio’s A-list—it reached No. 1 on mainstream Top 40 stations and No. 2 on Radio Songs by early summer.

With this beachhead established, Harry was finally free to let his freak flag fly with “Watermelon Sugar,” which is simultaneously his oddest single and his most infectious. The chorus consists of nothing more than the line “Watermelon sugar high” repeated a half-dozen or more times, with emphasis on the “HIGH.” (TikTok users have keyed into this idiosyncrasy, sharing videos in which the “high” gets its own video edit of the user playacting her best stoner face.) Last November, when Styles did double-duty hosting and singing on Saturday Night Live, “Sugar” was one of the songs he performed, and in that indoor setting, it came off as willfully quirky and seasonally incongruous; the song’s first verse line is “Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin’.” Now, timed for 2020’s beach season—complete with a video filled with beautiful people on the shore, shot just before the pandemic and, according to a title card, “dedicated to touching”—it’s sitting atop the hit parade.

In short, Harry Styles finally has a profile on the radio and on the Hot 100 that matches his profile on magazine covers, and he achieved it on his own schedule and something like his own terms. Like John Lennon in the ’70s—the founder and nominal leader of the Beatles but the last former Fab to reach the toppermost of the poppermost as a solo artist—Styles just had to find his own way. As that onetime teen heartthrob sang, “Whatever gets you to the light, it’s all right.”

source: Slate

[mesangelique]

Part 1/2 of a story with a pairing no one requested : JOHN MARSTON/KIERAN DUFFY (I will post it on AO3 tomorrow)

Rating : R / 18+

Warning : alcohol, drunk sex, SMUT (but not in this part)

Thanks to @bluesilksilverspurs for the beta reading 🤠, I hope you will give this pairing a chance and like this first part ~

It's been a long day, an exhausting one. Arthur, John, Bill and Kieran went to Six Points cabin, hoping to find Colm O'Driscoll, but they found nothing spare a little cash, and Arthur's life had been saved by the « ex O'Driscoll boy » - otherwise known as Kieran Duffy. In doing so, Kieran had earned the right to be able to stay with the gang like any other member, doing chores and taking care of horses. Oh, he is well aware he won’t be able to disappear for days on end as Arthur or Micah do, but at least he won’t be tied to that tree anymore.

 

 When the group got back to the camp and were explaining to Dutch what had happened, Lenny had arrived, panting, terrified, babbling about Micah waiting to be hung in Strawberry’s jail. At that point, Dutch suggested Arthur take Lenny into Valentine to relax a little, and now, hours later, John noticed he himself was drunk as he stood up from the stool in the saloon. The world started to turn around as if he was on a roller coaster, but all he managed to do was order another drink.

 

 Arthur and Lenny had the great idea to invite John and Kieran to their little "having only one drink” thing. John was invited because he was standing there when Dutch suggested the outing, and Kieran mostly because that kid saved Mister Morgan's life - and desperately needed a bath. Hosea had also told Arthur that they had to accept him in the gang. John didn’t care much for stuff like that as long as this O’Driscoll was getting a good wash first.

 

 And speaking of the O'Driscoll boy - he had just taken a whiskey and sat right next to John, drinking thirstily straight from the bottle. John couldn't help but look at him, squinting his eyes. Now that he was clean, smelling of soap and tobacco instead of horseshit and piss, with his hair framing his thin face, he was not THAT disgusting… Actually, it was maybe the first time John was really looking at him; at his thin beard, his worried dark green eyes, his nose. John frowned. He shouldn’t be looking at him like that. But he was drunk.

 

 Yes, that's why.

 

 "Think ye can drink better than me, O'Driscoll boy?" He chuckled deeply, his laugh raspy like his voice. He didn't have to find anything else to say to have Kieran looking at him with his scared deer eyes, a rabbit about to run for his dear life. "C'mere I'll show ya how WE drink."

 

 Not giving him time to answer, he grabbed Kieran's whiskey bottle and brought it to his lips, taking big gulps, the whisky running right down his throat, burning and warming him up, and once he had run out of breath he handed the bottle back. John had to admit he was quite proud of his performance - he didn't choke or end up coughing.

 

 "Dare you to do better than that. O'Driscoll." He whispered, leaning a bit towards Kieran, smirking arrogantly. Why was he like this suddenly? Why did he suddenly want to impress that O'Driscoll boy? Ah yes, he was drunk, maybe he didn’t have to search further for a reason, maybe …

 

 Kieran’s eyes were wide, seeing his bottle being stolen like that. He was already tipsy, so he didn’t react like he normally would. Actually, he had been focusing on John Adam’s apple, the way it had bobbed up and down as he swallowed the alcohol… That ride earlier, where his body was fully pressed against the other man’s had made him look at John Marston differently.

 

 And here, now, he was mostly drunk, and his initial shyness was gone. He was just chuckling, cheeks red like a teenager, a happy one, the one he never was. Being alone like this with John should be quite embarrassing, to be honest, and at first he had been afraid. But now... John was so drunk he probably wouldn’t be able to walk straight. He was giggling and evidently really proud of his drinking performance.

 "Gimme that- you'll see I can!" Kieran retorted, reacting to John’s arrogant smirk and trying to avoid looking too long at the man’s lips and at that drop of whisky on his neck. Without much more thought, he took the bottle and emptied it. A delicious burning sensation in his throat, his head feeling so light he could float. All his anxiety, all his problems just drowned in the liquor, and so he laughed, pushing the bottle away, proudly looking at the other man.

 "Ah ah! See Marston? Was able to follow you on this!" Kieran chuckled, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows (or trying to do so at least). He closed his eyes for a few seconds and suddenly, a hot wave was spreading all over his body, thickening his saliva. Now he was looking at John, at his dirty hair, his three days old beard, his scars … How fascinating are these scars, how marvellous they are … That very one on his lips.

 "Pheeew, it’s so hot in here." The ex-O’Driscoll breathed out, looking at the ceiling, taking his dust coat off. He felt like he was on fire right now. He would love to jump naked in some river... or in some horse's trough. His cheeks were red and burning, and he could almost feel sweat droplets forming on the back of his neck. He continued, "So hot in here…. So, what we doin' now – ya know, since I finished the bottle" Kieran chuckled, trying to get rid of his neckerchief.

 

 Oh he is a mess, a fucking mess right now, unable to talk properly, babbling shitty stuff that is ricocheting about in his head. He must be mad - drinking that whole bottle hadn’t really been a good idea. Even if he thought it had impressed John… John had watched him emptying the bottle, mesmerized, in fact, by the sight of that boy drinking like he hadn't drank in days.

 

 "Ain'tcha a thirsty one, eh?" John had given a husky laugh when Kieran lowered the empty bottle and then started whining about the temperature. He can feel a warm feeling in his groin, spreading up his spine right now, and it is making him feel like he is burning too. That very same feeling he has when a pretty lady walks by and he pulls her onto his lap. The only problem is that he ain't looking at a pretty lady right now. He is looking at a very drunk O'Driscoll boy. Well, an ex-O’Driscoll boy. He is looking at Mister Duffy. Kieran. Kieran Duffy. What kind of a fool is he, John Marston, to be looking at a guy like this? The last time it happened was a decade ago. But he is drunk tonight, so that must be why. That’s obviously why.

 

 "I suppose you're pretty hot now what with all that booze you've been drinkin'. C'mon, let's get out of here and take some air" John grumbled, pushing away from the counter and bumping into some tables before finally making it to the back door. He opened it roughly, almost knocking an old man backwards while doing so. John could hear Kieran behind him, trying to act naturally, as if they hadn’t just been drinking like two sailors, and as he held the door open for him, he was able to clearly see that Kieran was having a hard time even walking straight.

 

 As Kieran drew level with John, he even tripped, and although John did not know how, or why, his reflex was to react fast, fast enough to grab him. The amount of alcohol in his own blood was sapping away at his strength though and ultimately he found himself pinning Kieran against the nearest wall with the weight of his whole body, his hands on each side of Kieran’s head and his face almost buried in his neck. His body felt spineless and he was suddenly very tired. Both of them were giggling like teenagers after their first beer. He couldn’t even feel his legs anymore. In fact, neither of them could feel their legs right now.

 

After almost collapsing on at least three occasions, they were both outside proper now. Navigating the tiny step outside of the saloon almost pitched both of them over, which was no surprise at all seeing as how drunk they were, but now they were here, leaning against another wall. How did they even make it this far? No one will ever know.

 

"You alright?" John asked in a thick voice, their noses nearly touching. They are close. Really, really close. Kieran can feel every piece of the wood behind him snagging on his shirt and scratching his back, he can feel how muddy the ground is, how cold the air is but how hot he feels, like he is burning inside. He tried to focus on everything but their sudden closeness. Because the problem is the ex-O’Driscoll is far more into men than the church wants him to be, than society wants him to be – it’s a problem he has known about for a long time, and has tried to hide for even longer… people get hanged for it. Kieran could hear his heart in his ears, his blood pumping roughly, and his lungs running out of air, his tongue heavy in his mouth but most importantly that warmth waking up in his lower belly, spreading in his groin, curling up his spine. Having John Marston, drunk, his nose almost against his, his body flush against him... He swallowed thickly, looking at John’s lips as though hypnotised, and managed to nod, his green, greyish eyes glancing over John’s scars.

 

"Y-es. 'Am alright, Mister." He whispers.

 

 John's breathing was suddenly deep and fast. He could feel Kieran's warmth mixing with his own. Strangely, he didn’t mind. He knew damn well he was already growing hard, mostly because of the  alcohol, of course. He always got so horny when he started getting drunk, so the fact that it was Kieran and not another cheap whore isn’t so surprising, right? The fact that he found Kieran’s eyes fascinating and his lips kissable right now, and his so thin, fragile collarbone beautiful – that was just the alcohol. This closeness wasn’t helping, creating friction on his - their - cock under his – their - pants, having him - them - hum deeply, both acting like they did not hear or feel the other.

 

"Yea? That's good then. Yea."

 

 There was a silence then when John met Kieran's eyes, and his mind was filled up with dark fantasy and desire and want and that need of possession. He rarely felt that with a girl, that possessiveness rising. But he had really drank a lot tonight, they both had really drank a lot, and Kieran looked like a lamb waiting for a wolf to eat him.

 

 "Thought you were hot? Gotta do something about that, right?" John whispered thickly, lowering his eyes to Kieran's throat, almost able to hear his thundering beating heart when his hands went to the collar of his shirt and started working on the buttons. The alcohol doesn’t help his fingers at all, but he was slipping one button free and then another…

 

"Yeah- I'm… I'm hot - but w...whatabout you ?" Kieran whispered back, trying to keep his voice steady, but freezing immediately, unsure. He could feel John’s hands on his shirt, feel his fingers working on opening it – the way his breath was coming quicker and his eyes had grown significantly darker. Kieran couldn’t help but bite his lip, and couldn’t decide if he hoped John would notice it or not, the way he himself has noticed John’s hooded lustful gaze and the way he is staring at his face, his neck.

[xhxhxhx]

I’m enjoying Alan Allport’s Britain at Bay (Knopf, 2020):

To the factory hands of Coventry’s car and telephone and textile works, who wanted plentiful work, generous wages, clean and comfortable homes, decent healthcare and schools, cheap entertainment and, in general, a better life than their parents had enjoyed – all things that the Conservatives seemed to be delivering in 1935, and without the need for any revolutionary innovations in government – the avuncular pipe-smoking, peacemaking Stanley Baldwin was a safe bet. Their Woolworths Britain rallied to him in 1935. All but one of Warwickshire’s sixteen parliamentary constituencies returned coalition MPs.

All this would seem like a great puzzle ten years later, in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, when Labour’s Clement Attlee was almost as triumphant with the voters as Baldwin had been. Attlee’s radical programme of post-war social and economic reconstruction, involving large-scale nationalisation of industry and the creation of a comprehensive welfare state system, including the National Health Service (NHS), was a repudiation of much that the National Government of the 1930s had stood for. And it was tremendously popular. Why, then, had many of the same voters who had put Attlee into Downing Street supported very different policies back in 1935?

For writers like Priestley and Orwell, the answer was simple: what had happened in 1931 and 1935 was an act of collective absent-mindedness, a regrettable lapse of judgement rather than an expression of the people’s true will. They dismissed the prosperity of the pre-war years. Britain in the 1930s had been ‘a stony wilderness of world depression and despair’, according to Priestley, tolerated only because ‘the nation’s mind was elsewhere, withdrawn, more than half asleep, charmed and lulled by politicians with a good bedside manner’. Everyone, as Orwell put it, had done ‘the wrong thing in perfect unison’ in the 1930s. Britain had been engaged in a sort of national sleepwalk which its people had only been shocked out of by the cathartic jolt of military defeat in 1940.

No one at the end of the war was interested in much defending the National Government from such accusations. Labour had no incentive to do so. Few Conservatives saw much point doing it either. Winston Churchill had not served in the National Government in peacetime and had no investment in its reputation. Many of his junior colleagues had served in it, but they could see which way the wind was blowing, and they chose to forget about or minimise the parts they had played in Baldwin’s administrations. The idea that voters ten years earlier had simply been too guileless to understand the folly of what they were doing was an explanation of events that suited the Shire Folk myth nicely.

But if we want to really understand what Britain was like before the Second World War, we must evaluate the National Government’s success on its own terms, not in the patronising, teleological terms of 1945. There was nothing inevitable about its decline into ignominy. If war had not broken out in 1939, then it’s highly likely that Neville Chamberlain, who had succeeded Baldwin as prime minister in the spring of 1937, would have won another comfortable general election victory in 1940. The Conservative-led coalition would have continued to dominate British politics into the new decade, uninfluenced by any drastic leftward shift in the public mood occasioned by military defeat and the demands of total war. Baldwin and Chamberlain’s policy prescriptions and values, not those of Keynes’s General Theory and the Beveridge Report, would have continued to shape the national debate in the 1940s. There would have been no ‘Revolution of 1945’, no nationalisations of British industrial sectors and probably no NHS either, or at least not the NHS in the form we know today. By 1945 the Tories, perhaps under the leadership of a dynamic younger figure such as R. A. Butler, might have been looking at their fourth successive election win. Churchill, by this point seventy years old, and not in good health, would have been retreating into dignified retirement from the Commons back benches, his lifetime goal of reaching the premiership having ultimately eluded him. Clement Attlee would have become just another of the Labour Party’s string of forgotten disappointments.

The war did not just transform lives. It also transformed values: especially views about the scope and ethics of state action. Undergirding the Baldwinian achievement in the 1930s was a philosophy of government that was confident, coherent, popular and, by its own lights, progressive. The fact that it was a philosophy that did not survive Dunkirk does not detract from this. Millions of people went to war in 1939 to defend a particular idea of British civilisation, epitomised by the values of the National Government, which they regarded as compassionate, efficient and just. A lot of them, as Priestley and Orwell suggested, would change their minds about it during the war, and come to embrace different ideas about the future of the country. But not all of them would. Those who did not change their minds would return home at war’s end to a new and very different Britain which they neither recognised nor much liked.

[thecrescentcityrpg]

“I wanna live life fast, I don't know how to slow down.”

full name:   Kaiden “Kai” Leon Amari

city of origin:  Atlanta, Georgia

age:  34

species: Werewolf

occupation: Owner of Moonlight Ink tattoo parlor, part-time boxer at 9 Round

faceclaim: Sinqua Walls

⇨   B I O G R A P H Y

Kaiden was born into a werewolf pack in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia. The younger of two sons, Kaiden and Kallen grew up thick as thieves; his brother was always his best friend and never seen as a rival. Kai’s father was an alpha werewolf for a modestly-sized pack in Atlanta and it was set in stone that Kal would take his father’s place before Kai was ever born. Their youth went as expected: Kal was kept on a short leash and Kai was free to run rampant. As the younger son, he had no promised responsibility to weigh on his shoulders or ruin his childhood. While his brother was stuck in classes on werewolf history, or stuffy meetings with local pack leaders, Kai was allowed to wander, run, and enjoy his childhood. He spent more time with their human mother, who had a wild streak of her own and was more than willing to indulge Kai in adventures. A lot of Kai’s early memories were spent out exploring dozens of local nature trails her, baking sweets for the entire pack, and spending the day at the local art supply store to encourage his love of drawing and sketching. In those moments, he learned about werewolf and pack life naturally, outside of textbooks and lectures, and decided from an early age that he would never join his father’s pack.

As they aged and matured, one thing became clear: Kaiden was a natural leader, with an electric sort of personality that drew people in, and Kallen just wasn’t. Kai was constantly in trouble at school for pranking his teacher, running amok in the classrooms, and convincing his classmates to get in on the action. He lettered in football and lived out the high school dreams that mirrored popular teen movies. Kai had popularity and infamy at his local school, a steady stream of girl and boyfriends available, a large friend group, and a good life. He rarely spent time around the pack and his father if he could help it, and he was happier for it.

Kai’s father actively demonstrated his disappointment in him as he got older but he never took it to heart; Kal was the golden boy, after all, and the one who was saddled by fate with their father’s unrealistic expectations. And Kai? He was a wildcard, a free spirit, and he would not be tethered to a pack that barely acknowledged his existence outside of “the alpha’s son” or “the future alpha’s brother”. Their father’s disappointment towards Kal was much more private and a heavy sort of tension that filled their house during his teenage years. Although not as close as when they were young kids, Kai loved his brother and always made time for him; the boys would disappear a couple times a month into an adventure of their own, outside of the watchful gaze of the pack, littering the back of Kal’s truck with cheap beer cans as they existed outside of any forced expectations of greatness.

And then Kallen came of age. As the eldest son of the alpha, his activation of the curse was scheduled around his twenty-fifth birthday if it didn’t happen accidentally before then. The entire thing felt cruel, scheduling the death of someone, and the weeks up to the ceremony were tense and awful. Kai found himself crashing on friends couches just to avoid being home, unable to sleep in his own bed due to the heavy emotions around the Amari house. The night before Kal’s ceremony, he showed up at the couch Kai was currently surfing on, their pickup packed to the brim, and asked him to leave town with him. Kai never hesitated. He had already graduated high school and was working at a local tattoo shop after interning there, but had no other obligation to town besides his mother. He broke up with his girlfriend via text, climbed through his window to grab his letterman and a couple of other relics of his childhood, and hit the road.

They drove through the night and made it to Ohio by breakfast time. From there, the brothers lived week to week in different towns, cities, and areas. Kal had amassed a large savings account that Kai had no idea about, and it funded their road trip throughout the country. He kept in contact with his mother, of course, updating them vaguely after they had cleared an area and were already onto the next stop. Kal seemed like a new person without their father bearing down on him, and their bromance re-kindled on the road as they were allowed to just exist, carefree and young and stupid.

Until the accident. Kai doesn’t talk about how he was triggered, or even mention a having a brother, but one day they were on their way some festival inside Salem, and the next day they were werewolves. The activation of the curse brought up a lot of old feelings and drama, and Kai knew that his brother had changed in more ways than one. It only took a couple of weeks before Kal left him a note, an envelope full of cash, and a broken heart. He had left in the middle of the night, again, to return to their family.

Kai was furious. He allowed his anger to crackle at his bones and it kept him in wolf form for almost a month. Every time he tried to change back to his human form the rage simmered and stoked something in him that was too emotional and human to feel on two legs. He kept the money, spiteful but not stupid, and travelled to Atlantic City. After using his wolf senses to cheat his way through a casino, he had enough money to try to settle down and start over. Living life on the road lost its luster without his brother, and he was tired of feeling so angry.

New Orleans had meant to be a boozy pit stop to drown his sorrows in. Kai quickly fell in love with the city, especially the gritty, messy parts that escaped the light shed on the city by tourism. He was charmed, and for the first time in too long felt compelled to stay somewhere longer than a week or two. Kai avoided the supernatural scene for as long as possible, but the city was chalk full of power struggles, turf wars, and aimless wolves that needed taken care of even in times of “peace”.

Kai caused a lot of fights when he first arrived. After nearly coming to blows with a vampire that looked at him the wrong way, a strange offer had been given: a membership at a local boxing club. The 9 Round became a healthy way for Kai to try to channel his rage and aggression, and he soon became a staple member at the club and improved some of his inter-species relations. Kind of.

Despite the his decades of struggles, Kai was an alpha’s son, born to lead, and the draw of pack life eventually called to him. Leadership fit him like a glove, and after a messy battle with a complacent alpha, Kai found himself in charge for the first time in his life.

Kal had continued to wire him money after the betrayal, and Kai hadn’t touched any of it until he needed it. It was enough for him to start is own business, Moonlight Ink, in one of the grungier parts of town. During the first couple of months Kai lived in the storage loft above the business to save money. A natural artist, the shop quickly grew popular with locals. Kai had the unfair advantage of werewolf senses, and his line work, shading, and inventive techniques soon gained infamy in the area. They were known specifically for glow in the dark tattoos, using non-traditional mediums, and insane geometric line work that could nearly cross eyes. The parlor had to move to house enough chairs for additional artists and clients into a nicer part of town.

Kai laid down roots, and the city responded with a love he hadn’t felt in a long time. No longer on the run, he could openly converse with his mother and old friends from town. His father never cared much for him, after all, and why would he start now with the golden boy home? He had grown immensely since his arrival. No longer a child, or in his brother’s shadow, he could hype up his pack brothers and sisters without making any of the mistakes of his father. All of Kai’s mistakes were definitely his own, and usually a result of his awful temper. His pack was his family, his new, chosen family that he could keep from fucking up, and he took his responsibility very seriously. That didn’t mean that he would be a stick in the mud alpha, though. After all, what was life without a little bit of chaos and blood?

⇨   P E R S O N A L I T Y

+   passionate, hardworking, loyal

-    impulsive, aggressive, chaotic

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Interior Decorating Preferences (Living With MC)

— Zen —

Being a famous stage actor unfortunately doesn’t lead to heaps of cash, so even after establishing his career, Zen stayed in his garden unit for several years. You and him made the best of the place for as long as you could - brightening up the dankness with cheery lighting, making sure everything was clean - but eventually the tiny, cheap apartment wore out its welcome and the two of you decided that enough moldy air was enough. 

Your new place was larger, newer, and located in a better neighborhood. Rent was more than twice the amount, which sometimes puts a strain on the books, and Zen also had to rent a separate parking space for his bike. But it was just a cheerier place. Both you and Zen began feeling the effects of a better ventilated, better lit home, and it energizes the both of you. The extra money was worth it. 

While moving, Zen decided to dump most of his old furniture, keeping only the flatscreen and a table or a lamp. The new apartment was decorated with new couches and cushions, cabinets, mirrors, curtains and rugs. Zen had a surprisingly nuanced taste for interior decorating, and sought out decor with modern, smooth metal and muted grey colors.

Before, Zen lived with a mishap match of cheap furniture that clashed with each other and gathered dust as the years went by. Now, with a new place, you and Zen took the opportunity to really turn the apartment into a home. 

He loved keeping the house brightly lit. Curtains were almost always drawn to let in the natural sun, and there were multiple lamps in every room to brighten up every corner. Sometimes, if a production was generous enough, Zen was allowed to take home one of the props as a gift. So the apartment was eventually decorated with several unique pieces, all mementos from his work. 

He loves seeing the splashes of color dotting his brightly lit home, especially if you’re there to enjoy it with him.

— Yoosung —

It takes a while to move out of the dorms. He finishes his degree two years into you dating him, but before that point he had very little space to live in. His dorm didn’t have a kitchenette nor a shower, though luckily he didn’t have to deal with a roommate. 

Any decorations he had were haphazard and cheap - a character mug for his pencil holder, a bedding set from Target, and other things typical for a full-time college student. His furniture belonged to the dorm, and there was quite a bit of clutter scattered around. Whenever you came over to visit, you would trip over things like random plastic figurines from vending machines. 

After graduating, he moves back with his parents like many young people in Asia. But he really wanted a place of his own as soon as possible, mostly due to your influence. He didn’t want to awkwardly balance his family life with your availability. So after saving up from his internships, he found his first legit apartment to rent.

It was small, old, and the best he could find on such a small income. But it wasn’t bad, per se. Just needed some sprucing up. So that’s what he decided to do; actual decor, now, instead of cheap junk. Furniture from IKEA, legit bedding and curtains. It was important that you saw him as a budding adult, instead of some college kid.

He always loved bright colors and cheery imagery. Some of it kinda clashed, if you were totally honest. But he loved how it gave his home a slightly artsy twist. 

And he still enjoyed his character merch, just not as vigorously as he did before. His desk was no longer covered in old acrylic keychains and plastic charms, but the tissue box on the dresser was decorated with characters from one of his favorite animes. 

Above all, he loved how his space wasn’t an embarrassment to show you, anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact. Every corner held evidence of how much he’s grown. And you were there to share it with him. 

— Jaehee —

Before you came into the picture, her apartment was kinda threadbare. She spent so little of her time there, she couldn’t really decorate the space to her liking. Although her work at C&R earned her an impressive paycheck, you couldn’t see any real evidence of it amongst her home. 

Except for her technology, which she was happy to splurge on. A large plasma TV, the latest Kureig model, a snazzy smartspeaker. Plus, her furniture was brand-name. If it wasn’t for Jaehee herself living there, you could almost believe this apartment was some sort of photoshoot studio - perfectly decorated and sterile. 

After leaving C&R and starting a cafe with you, she finally had time to really invest in her home. And she took it by storm, not just buying tasteful wall art and coordinated throw rugs, but also contracting people to install new granite to the kitchen countertop and re-modeling the entire bathroom. 

She and you had a real eye when it came to decor. It took an entire day set aside to tour furniture stores when it came time to buy new floor lamps, or accent tables. You compared prices on your phone, she agonized over color swatches and metal finishes. 

And she switches up things pretty rapidly. She’ll buy these chic polished metal salt-and-pepper shakers for the kitchen, and two months later she’ll decide they’re too plain so she’ll bring home a dyed blue glass set, only to eventually think they’re too tacky.

All the colors are warm, sometimes dim and cozy, sometimes brightly lit. Antique gold and brass in the kitchen, warm pearls in the bathrooms, buttercup yellow decorating the bedsheets.

No longer was her apartment an oppressive, lonely place that money couldn’t fix. She had a home now; under her feet, and also within you. 

— Jumin —

Now, the images of Mystic Messenger don’t give us the full tour of Jumin’s skyline penthouse studio, but if they did we’d all be shook. ‘Cause his place is no fucking joke, its literally one of the top ten most expensive homes of South Korea.

 It’s located atop an 85-floor skyscraper, and takes up the entire floor with a 20,000 square feet span. It boasts four bathrooms, two kitchens, three separate lounge areas, and crazy expensive architecture. That vertical fish tank next to his Wyoming-size king bed is only the beginning of the luxury that surrounds this man’s abode. 

Even after months of living with him, Jumin surprises you by pointing out some decadent part of the apartment you had missed. Like the jacuzzi settings on one of the bathtubs, or how the massive span of windows can be tinted using a remote. He had lived the life of a millionaire for so long, he got used to these sorts of things. 

You, on the other hand, are constantly charmed and even overwhelmed by the decadence. Half the wine in his personal cellar cost more than your college tuition. You couldn’t help but just, lap up this ridiculous palace, at times. It was really something to wake up to carved marble tiles, crystal lamps, and designer furniture every day. 

When you moved in, Jumin soon began considering buying a larger place, because to him the massive studio was ‘too small for two people’ and you had to quickly stop him before he bought a literal estate. True, the interior decorating had already been carefully furnished with only Jumin as the sole resident in mind, but bit by bit, your personal touches began gracing his home. 

Like your closet became your closet, both lounges were slowly re-decorated with your own personal tastes in color and decor, your little knick-knacks found their way upon bookshelves and countertops, Jumin’s luxury dishware now included your favorite decorated mugs and cute kitten ramen bowl.

And those touches are what finally made Jumin feel like his apartment was a home. All the luxury in the world couldn’t buy this coziness. 

— Saeyoung —

The man is a dirty, rowdy boy who pays almost no attention to maintaining his habitat. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an aesthetic, though. He buys the top-of-the-line technology with colored LED lights and polished marble surfaces. There’s so much color surrounding his bunker, you can almost forget you’re twenty feet underground. 

Seriously, sometimes it’s like a rave. His triple-door smartscreen fridge is lit with deep blue blacklights, his bathroom mirror is backlit with a chrome rainbow spectrum that shifts colors, the ceiling light of his bedroom is this big circular fixture that mimics different planets with a push of a remote. 

But he only pays attention to decor he’s interested in. So when it comes to his couches, his dining table, his bedframe? He just outsourced it to designer brands and picked the most generic, modern-style ones they had. To keep it even more simple, it’s all a boring black color. And many of it is part of the same collection - you noticed that the dining chairs, the coffee table, and the barstools are all the same design. 

And no, he’s doesn’t clean after himself. He really doesn’t have the heart nor time to, especially before meeting you. So there’s food crumbs in the crack of his office chair, loose clothing in random places on the floor and tossed over chairs, and product bottles thrown haphazardly amongst the bathroom. 

When you came into the picture and saved him from the agency, his work racketed down by a huge margin. No more working 52 hours at a stretch without sleep, no more entire weeks spent fearing for his life if he didn’t finish a job. This left more time and energy to step it up a bit and stop being such a slob. Mostly for your sake, if he was being honest. 

Almost all of the fancy tricked up stuff in his apartment was his own doing. And once he had more free time, there was even more of it. So enjoy your voice-activated desk lamp with bluetooth and 30 different color settings, that was just an afternoon project and he’s got something even better for the two of your’s anniversary!

— Saeran —

Unlike his brother, Saeran actually values cleanliness and a good living space. Partially due to his bad immune system and how a clean environment can make a big difference in his health, and partially because that’s just the kind of guy he is. He had his own room in Mint Eye, which was tastefully decorated under his own hand with antiques and art statement pieces. Decorating his room was one of the few opportunities he had to express himself. 

Once he escaped Mint Eye and began living with you, it took many months to regain some assemblance of a normal daily life, and one of the first steps was to retrofit his living space into a safe, encouraging home. 

With your help, the two of you planned out everything with the intention of creating a haven of sorts. He still wanted his antique aesthetic and romantic colors, but now there was technology that encouraged communication with the outside world. Now, the curtains were pulled to reveal an exciting, open world right on the doorstep.  

The antique interior complimented his flowers very well. ‘Cause flowers and plants are a constant fixture in the home. Sometimes, its cut flowers arranged in a Regency-era glass vase, but mostly they’re potted flowering plants. Huge ones in the living room, or tiny ones on accent shelves, or the several window planters you and he maintained with love and care.

As he regained his confidence, the apartment showed his progress. He began going out to buy things on his own, without needing you to accompany him. And the things he brought back were sometimes ... weird, but oddly charming, like a mounted authentic Viking drinking horn, or a framed poster of a map from a fantasy video game. 

He just ... enjoyed these odd things. His life was so free now, which meant he could go out and be weird and enjoy these weird things without anything holding him back. You proudly displayed all of these trophies, all evidence of Saeran’s healing.  

— Jihyun —

It’s canon that Jihyun’s apartment in-game was mostly fitted to Rika’s wishes, not his own. We don’t really see it, but if the photo panned out more we’d see pale, birchwood accents and light linen fabric. Everything bright, and lit with white lights. Almost all of it Rika’s influence.

When he and you found a new apartment, Jihyun wanted to take this opportunity to establish himself more, this time. So instead of that pure, untouched look, he added more color in washes of warm leathers, brushed metal, and natural lighting. 

It was worldly, for lack of a better term. Lots of mementos from his time traveling, all adding dimension to the living space. A woven Navajo basket from New Mexico, a large print replica of a page from the Book Of Kells, a bronze modern art sculpture from an emerging Indian artist. 

And the furniture themselves were uniquely artistic, too. Jihyun one day brought home new earthy-brown decorative cushions, bought from a company that produced textiles dyed using food waste scrap. He went to a warehouse auction for authentic, obscure antiques, and graced the living room with a richly red bubinga-wood rocking chair from 1950′s Germany. 

Funnily enough, as graceful of a man he is, he can sometimes be a bit too tacky in his choice for decor. He tried to argue for fake exposed-brick wallpaper as an accent wall, which you had to shoot down. More than once, he showed you a new art piece about to be sold at a new gala that he wanted to go bid for, and the particular piece was just ... too esoteric or even gaudy to be displayed. 

Jihyun just loved to feel like he could be himself. And he loved how you encouraged this new life of his. An actual home, now, free from his family or Rika. True love can only blossom under freedom, and that’s what this home represented for him. 

[simul16]

Low Effort in Their Own Way

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." - Leo Tolstoy, "Anna Karenina"

I've been watching a fair amount of D&D content on YouTube of late, for varying reasons, and if I may paraphrase Tolstoy's famous quote above, I've learned that all good D&D channels make high-effort content, while each bad D&D channel makes low-effort content in its own way.

Low-effort content tends to be:

Content that is or can be created quickly; it doesn't require a lot of prep time (and the presentation usually allows this limited prep time to show)

Content that copies current trends; while a certain amount of response to significant events in the gaming world is to be expected, low-effort channels regularly feature content that basically boils down to 'here's my reaction to whatever rumor or scandal is currently being talked about among the community'

Content that does not spark or contribute to a discussion; when such channels go beyond simply recapitulating a recent event, they frequently spend very little time explaining their own reaction and seldom spend any time at all explaining or exploring contrary opinions except to make jokes or elicit emotional reactions from an over-simplified or straw-man version of the contrary opinion

Now let's start off by saying that I'm not knocking low-effort content per se; anybody who knows anything about online marketing can tell you that low-effort content has a role to play in any marketing strategy. Ideally, though, your low-effort content, the stuff that you can get out the door quickly and easily and get in front of your potential customers, exists to guide those customers to your higher-quality content that convinces them to buy your product, order your service, or otherwise become someone who believes that you have something of value to say. Because it's cheap and easy to produce, low-effort content can be cast far and wide to serve as a net to capture many potential viewers and guide them to the gold mine of the really important stuff you have to say. Unfortunately, when your low-effort content is what you have to say, it very much begs the question of what exactly it is people should be coming to your channel for.

Here are a few but by no means an exhaustive list of the YouTube channels that to me seem to feature way too much low-effort content.

The Dungeon Dudes

The Dungeon Dudes are two guys (Kelly McLaughlin and Monty Martin) who mainly do scripted back-and-forth style discussions of D&D-related topics. I've talked about the Dungeon Dudes before, when taking apart one of their recent videos, but they also stream a D&D game they play in on Twitch (and frequently post recordings of those sessions on their channel), do product reviews, and generally do whatever they can to maintain a consistent pace of content output, generally a minimum of twice weekly. They've been around for nearly four years now, and have amassed about 273 thousand subscribers on their channel, with over 44 million views for their content, which seem like decent numbers for a niche content channel. (Contract with CinemaSins, which exists as a viral content manufacturer, and has amassed over 9 million subscribers and over 3.3 billion views. I'm not trying to say the Dungeon Dudes are the CinemaSins of D&D; if they were, their numbers would probably look a lot more like those of CinemaSins.)

The big problem with the Dudes as content creators is that, despite being a niche content channel, they are clearly in it to try to eke out some kind of income or living from the work they put into the channel: they've got a Patreon, they use affiliate links in the descriptions of their product review videos to gain some additional referrer income, and they do sponsored content when they can get a sponsor. They started back in the summer of 2017 with a very 2016-era plan on how to succeed at YouTube: put together a bunch of short (5-10 minutes, occasionally longer, but go over 15 minutes at your peril) videos and release them on an iron-clad schedule to get people used to coming back to your channel and looking over your new content, and to their credit, they've kept up their content production schedule very consistently over the past four years.

They've also learned a few things during that time and have adapted the channel in response: their videos explaining rules and reviewing new products tend to be more popular, so they work those topics in on a more regular basis. They've learned that the YouTube algorithm has subtly changed over the past few years to reward channels that can provide longer 'engagement' (which gives YouTube more opportunities to run ads), and have expanded their video length to an average of about a half-hour, with their re-broadcasts from Twitch being extra-long videos (between two and two-and-a-half hours) which, while drawing fewer total views, probably draw as much or more 'engagement' from the algorithm for the views they have.

But the need to spit out so much content on such a rigid, unforgiving schedule means that they have to aim for quick-creation and easy digestion: putting subclasses into a bog-standard tier ranking, making 'top five' and 'top ten' lists that seem like they're being cribbed from a more thoughtful resource, and generally getting stuff out the door (like their 'Powerful Spell Combos Using Teamwork' video) without spending too much time thinking about how valuable or even accurate their advice happens to be. More to the point, it seems to be taking its toll on the guys who serve as the hosts of the show: Kelly McLaughlin has a fairly dour expression in general, but lately he seems to have the countenance of a man who's about to post a 'very special episode' discussing the dangers of YouTuber burnout.

The Dungeon Dudes feature low-effort content because they have to in order to support the publishing frequency they've chosen; if they were to take the time to put together a truly high-effort piece regarding one of their traditional topics, their Patreon subscribers would likely be asking why their release schedule had slowed down before their work was even half-done.

Dungeon Craft

The Dungeon Craft channel is run by a fellow who refers to himself as 'Professor Dungeon Master'; I have not yet found any reference in his channel or elsewhere that identifies who he actually is, so I'll just refer to him as Prof. Prof has been on YouTube a bit longer than the Dungeon Dudes, having launched his channel in October of 2016, and has put out 185 'episodes' (as of the time of this writing), thus averaging between three and four episodes per month. Prof's own 'trailer' video explicitly states his channel's concept: "Some channels focus on running the game, others on building terrain, others on painting minis. I do it all!" You might think, then, that this would be a place to find quite high-quality content, especially related to terrain and miniatures painting tips, but it seems like the main effect of Prof making his channel be about multiple topics (and there are plenty of topics he discusses that don't fit into any of those three categories above) is that he can't successfully communicate what his channel is actually about, other than about his specific opinions. Maybe that's the reason he's sitting at about 65 thousand subscribers and just under 5 million views.

However, being at a slightly lower 'tier' of content production than the Dungeon Dudes is not itself any kind of crime or even indicative of poor quality -- after all, one of my favorite D&D lore channels on YouTube is RavenloftTravelAgent, and she's got just over a thousand subscribers and only about 50 thousand views on her videos. No, Prof could have a very high-quality, high-content channel with the subscriber numbers and views he has, but he doesn't.

Prof's issue is almost exactly the opposite of that of the Dungeon Dudes: instead of cranking out a rapid-fire, breakneck volume of content to keep up with an arbitrary content production schedule because that's how you make a living producing content for YouTube and you have to keep feeding the hungry algorithm, Prof cranks out content that's very easy for him to write because he's been involved in the game for a long time and already knows that the way he learned to play the game is the best way. Any topic that comes up related to D&D, he's got an opinion and can spit out a script explaining his opinion quickly because it's the same opinion he's held for decades. Classic D&D didn't have skills, so the next edition of D&D shouldn't have them either. Classic D&D had slow advancement, so slow advancement is better than fast advancement. This becomes even more obvious in the videos that have very little or nothing to do with running a D&D game, such as where Prof explains why he thought Avengers: Endgame sucked, or why he thought Season 8 of Game of Thrones was 'nearly perfect'.

Some of the oddest episodes of Dungeon Craft have to do when Prof makes admissions that make him out to be, well, the D&D channel for 'that kind' of old-school gamer: the ones who can make comments to each other that they can't make in front of their wives or significant others because the latter find the comments sexist, the kind of guys you can complain to about not being able to tell a Polack joke at work, the guys who treated D&D in the 1980s and 1990s the way that guys in the 1950s and 1960s treated golf where they could build a wall between the world as it existed and the world as they wanted to believe it was (and, if we're being honest, the way that they believed it should actually be). Nowhere is this more evident than in the video where Prof starts by discussing the hot, rich girlfriend he had once who tried but never got into D&D who he just had to break up with, and which by the 3 minute mark has him "calling bullshit" on the idea that relationships are built on compromise and negotiation. (I mean, you saw this coming, right? Right there at the end of the last paragraph about how the ending of Game of Thrones was so good? You knew that's where this was going, right?)

And, of course, he's not immune to just jumping on the latest bandwagon to contribute his drone to the chorus of voices talking about things just to be talking about things. It shouldn't be surprising that Prof jumped on the bandwagon of the lawsuit brought by Hickman and Weis against Wizards of the Coast over the upcoming Dragonlance trilogy, which turned out to be a nothing-burger. Even weirder is the tag in the description of that video which says "Analysis you can't get anywhere else", even though the video doesn't contain anything that hadn't already been discussed over the three weeks between the lawsuit and Prof's video other than Prof's own opinions about it. My favorite howler that Prof makes in this video is his assertion that, because Hickman and Weis got a lawyer to file a lawsuit, that means there's definitely fire under that smoke, because "big law firms do not accept cases they don't think they can win", which both ignores the existence of SLAPP suits as well as the existence of authors who seem to take perverse glee in suing rival authors just to drive them out of the industry. He's also responded with multiple videos in response to Cody at Taking20s controversial 'illusion of choice' essay, and his response to Ginny Di's essay on making online D&D suck less didn't include any of Ginny's solid advice on making online play more compatible with an in-person mentality (recognizing interruptive behavior, or using text chat to maintain side-conversations that would otherwise not be distracting in person), but instead gave these recommendations to players:

Keep your camera turned on

Mute yourself when not talking

Don't distract yourself with technology during the game

Nothing specific on recognizing how online play differs from tabletop play and suggesting ways to bring those two styles closer together, just commands because he's the DM and he says so. Or, in other words, low-effort, opinion-based content.

Nerd Immersion

Nerd Immersion, a channel by Ted that started in May of 2014 and has amassed over 70 thousand subscribers, starts his "channel trailer" video by leafing through a book, then looking up and saying, "Oh, hello" as if he'd just noticed that there was a camera on pointing at him while he's sitting in his orange-trimmed gaming chair. That, sadly, is roughly the level of thought that goes into the actual content contained on this long-tenured but seemingly still super-niche channel.

The weird thing is that at some point, it was obvious that Ted put some real effort into this channel. There are defined sections of the channel that focus on particular things, avoiding the Dungeon Craft problem of 'what topic is our channel about this week?' On Tuesdays, Ted posts a top-10 list. Ted comes up with an idea for a series, like 'Fixing 5E' or 'Reviewing Unearthed Arcana', posts regular articles until he's said what he means to say, then ends the series. (There hasn't been a new Fixing 5E video in roughly a year, meaning that Ted isn't wasting his own time and that of the viewer continually beating horses he's long since killed.) And he comes up with some great ideas for series, such as his series reviewing products on the DMs Guild; that particular series comes out somewhat irregluarly, but not so irregularly that you think he may have stopped doing the series without telling you.

Nerd Immersion's big problem can be summed up by simply looking at the list of videos on his channel and noticing that when he puts his own face on the thumbnail of the video, the startling frequency with which he's shrugging or has a puzzled face or just seems to be presenting himself as if he's not sure what's happening in his own video. I mean, I get it -- that's his image, the personality he wants to present to his audience. He doesn't have all the answers (a refreshing change from Dungeon Craft, honestly), but has some things to share if you're interested, so go ahead and take a peek. But then you take a look at those different sections we spoke about earlier and see that the 'Fixing' series all have the word Fixing at the top of the screen, the Nerd Immersion logo in the top left, two images underneath the text, one on the right side of the page and one on the left, separated right down the middle, and they all have Fix-It Felix on the far right. The Top 10 videos always have Top 10 at the top of the thumbnail. The Unearthed Arcana reviews all have 'Unearthed Arcana' at the top, then 'Review' in an odd off-set to the right beneath 'Unearthed Arcana'.

In other words, Ted has a formula, and he's damn well going to follow it.

Now it's not a bad thing to have a workflow -- if you're going to be cranking out videos at the volume that Ted does (not to mention the others on this list), you'd better have some kind of process for making the video, getting the thumbnail on it, etc.; otherwise each new video is a horrible nightmare of effort as you re-invent the wheel for every project. Nobody wants to do that, and the results would likely be unwatchable. Having a process is a good thing. But the Dungeon Dudes clearly also have a process -- they've put out at least two videos a week for three and a half years, so they damn well have a process or they wouldn't have been able to get out that much content. Looking at their channel, though, shows you that while they have a brand, and one that's evolving over time to boot, they're not just making the same video over and over again, or at least you wouldn't think that from looking at the thumbnails.

Ted's most interesting videos are where he's interviewing another person or even just having another person in the video, because having another person around clearly takes him at least a bit outside his rigid formulaic comfort zone. The problem is that those videos are few and far between -- the review of the infernal tiefling is about eight months separated from his interview with Celeste Conowitch about her Venture Maidens campaign guide. Also interesting are his unboxing videos, because Ted clearly likes minis and takes some degree of joy in cracking open and looking at new minis. His unboxing videos aren't as irregular as his interview videos, but they are fairly recent, with the first appearing just a few months ago, so it's still not clear if this is going to be a new regular part of the channel, or just another series that goes until he says what he wants to say about minis and then stops.

Most of the stuff on the site, though, is just, well, stuff, cranked out on a formula and thrown out into the digital void with the same soft-spoken volume regardless of whether it's major news or a press release. As an example, while pretty much everybody had an opinion on the Dragonlance lawsuit, Ted covered when the suit was announced, when it was dismissed by Weis and Hickman, when the actual trilogy that was the subject of the novels was announced, and the official release date of the first book in the new trilogy. When it came time to get ready to announce the newest campaign book, Ted was on the job, posting a video preparing for the announcement, another video later the same day when his original prediction of a Feywild adventure book seemed to be contradicted by other rumors that the book would be a Ravenloft book, then posted yet another video when the actual book was leaked on Amazon at 11:24pm later that same day confirming Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, posted the video discussing the official announcement of Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft the next day, and then the day after that followed up with more details on Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft revealed in Dragon+. That's five videos in three days, for a grand total of just over 100 thousand views combined. The intention seems like Ted wants to be the CNN of the D&D news scene, but with those kind of distribution numbers, the result is more like your local home town's shopping circular that occasionally also features stories about the latest project to fix the potholes on Main Street. Just like nobody's doing 24/7 news coverage of your local town council, nobody is (or probably should strive to) doing 24/7 coverage of the gaming industry and Wizards of the Coast. At some point it just becomes running a script, pressing a button to upload the next video, because it's news, and while you don't have to think about news to quite the same degree you have to think about more opinion-based topics, once you stop thinking about the process and what it is you're making, all you have left is executing the formula, over and over again, and both the input and the output becomes repetitive.

Repetitive videos, in repetitive formats, with repetitive text, to keep the monster fed for another day. I can admire the effort that goes into it, but the overwhelming presence of the formula involved in cranking out this content keeps me from feeling that it's worth engaging with. It's low-effort, because the effort has been meticulously removed from the process.

I could go on, but I think I'll stop here. There's not really any constructive criticism I could provide to these channels because, as I hope I've pointed out, it seems like low-effort content is pretty much the only thing these channels have to offer or in truth can offer, and anything that might cause their owners to re-consider their channels to improve their content would almost certainly lead to a very different if not wholly different channel. With things being as they are online, there's no guarantee that any new, higher-effort channel would be any more successful than the old low-effort one (remember the RavenloftTravelAgent channel with absolutely miniscule numbers; effort doesn't automatically equate with success). I can't even claim that being low-effort channels necessarily makes these channels bad (despite what I said in the intro); after all, they all have at least some good ideas, especially Nerd Immersion, and they each have subscribers and a following. I guess this is just my way of putting some small amount of effort into explaining why I don't feel like doing more to help these channels succeed, because I'd rather put my support toward channels making higher-quality, higher-effort content, especially because its not the content itself, but people engaging with that content that really drives a channel's success.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 9

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​

They don’t speak on the drive into town; the tension that hovers over them thick and suffocating. Tyler can’t remember the last time he’s felt this agitated with Ovi.  If he’s ever felt this way. Where every little movement the kid makes or even the slightest clearing of the throat or a small cough is enough to sever that last shred of sanity. And when out of the corner of his eye he sees Ovi’s fingers begin to tap against his knees, he snaps at him to ‘knock it the fuck off’.  It’s never bothered him that badly; even in Dhaka it had only been a minor annoyance. But Ovi hasn’t done it in years; stopping almost immediately after that’d taken him to Colorado. Where his life had been simpler and less stressful, and he wasn’t looking over his shoulder ninety nine percent of the time and his nerves were no longer as raw and fragile. And it’s more irritating that he’s slipping back into old habits than the actual habit itself.

“It just annoys me,” he explains, his tone softer. Apologetic. And he knows he isn’t on edge just because of the fallout from the night before. It’s been three days since he’s taken the Valium, always cutting them out when he feels as if he’s doing better and no longer needs them. Then having to suffer the consequences not only when he’s off the med, but when he starts back up and has to deal with the brutal side effects all over again. “What are you so nervous about anyway?” he asks.

“You,” Ovi readily admits.

“What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

He shrugs.

“If I was going to lose my shit on you, I would have done it while we were still in the driveway.”

“I know you’ll still pissed,” Ovi says. “I can tell.”

“Yeah? How?”

“You’ve been doing twenty over the speed limit since we left the house. Your knuckles keep cracking because you’re holding the steer wheel so tight. Just like your jaw keeps popping because you’ve got it clenched so hard. And have you ever looked in the mirror when you’re mad? At your eyes?”

“Not exactly.”

“You don’t even have to say anything. It’s all on your face. It’s all in your eyes.”

He’s been told that before. Many times. That he doesn’t even have to utter a word; that one look is enough to let someone know to either tread lightly or just avoid him altogether.  It isn’t something he’s exactly proud of.  It may have come in handy while on the job, but in his personal life it’s been pure and utter hell. His own wife having to often walk on eggshells because she can just tell when it’s been a bad day, or those demons are getting ready to surface.  Of all the people who shouldn’t have to feel that way, it’s her.  The person who’s been by his side through the lowest of all the goddamn lowest and has seen him at the darkest points in his life.   Who’d put her own ass on the line back on that bridge in Dhaka, sticking by him and keeping him alive even though there was a very real chance that both of them could end up dead.  

“I get it. You’re mad,” Ovi sighs. “And you’ve got every right to be. I shouldn’t have caused problems last night. After dinner. With Esme.”

“You think that’s what I’m most pissed about?” Tyler scoffs. “The fact that you upset her?”

“I know how protective you are. I know you don’t like people overstepping when it comes to her. That you don’t like to see her upset.”

“I don’t. I fucking hate seeing her upset. Especially when she cries. But we worked through all that last night and put it behind us. She’s dealing with some stuff. Stuff her and I are going to work on together and make sure she gets through. Trust me, it wasn’t just Chloe opening her big goddamn mouth that caused issues.”

“That isn’t the way I wanted it come out,” Ovi sighs. “I wanted to tell her myself. I didn’t want her to find out like that.”

“I didn’t want her to find out at all. There was no reason for her to find out about it.  Once I told you that I wasn’t interested, that should have been it. And you should have told Chloe to keep her mouth shut. Now Esme’s ready to throat punch her and I don’t think that’s the hill Chloe wants to die on. You know how Esme gets.”

Ovi’s eyes widen as he nods. It takes a lot to get Esme to the point of losing it, but he’s been there when it’s happened, and it isn’t a pretty sight.  How a little thing like her can have that much rage and vengeance inside of her is both impressive and terrifying.

They find an empty parking spot across the street from Ovi’s restaurant of choice; a newly opened sports bar that features traditional pub fare and twenty different domestic and foreign beers in tap.  Tyler can smell it the second they step through the door, the powerful mixture of various types of alcohol.  And it makes him nauseous and triggers the craving. It’s been intense the last four days, and Ovi’s announcement of wanting to try his hand at the job had kicked things into high gear; he can practically taste it on his lips.   But it’s more than Ovi and the job. So much more.  The cutting of the Valium cold turkey, the rapid approach of Millie’s six birthday and the dreams he’s been having of her and Austin, the pain that never seem to cease despite taking those meds religiously.  

They’re offered a seat at the bar that Tyler declines and suggests the sparsely populated outdoor patio. There are two reasons: he can avoid breathing in the scent of booze and seeing people enjoying their drinks, and his back won’t be to the door. He can’t break himself of the habit. For years...decades even...he’s had to sit facing any entrance or exit. It’s safer that way; no one can speak up on you and try to put a bullet in your head or slit your throat.  It’s happened to a few mercenaries that have stepped on the wrong toes: letting their guard down and meeting an untimely and gruesome end.  He wonders if he’ll ever get over it. The need to always have his guard up. If one day he’ll get up in the morning and the hyper-vigilance won’t exist anymore.  If he’ll sleep through the night without even the lightest of noises immediately wake him. If he won’t constantly be on the lookout for even the slightest hint of danger or find something suspicious in even the smallest of action. If he’ll stop viewing everything he sees...everyone he comes across....as a potential threat.  

The waitress seems disappointed when they both opt for ice water as opposed to beer. Booze makes the bill higher, which in turn makes her for a bigger tip.  

“Yeah, well my sobriety is a little more important than helping you out,” he informs her, and she gives him a sympathetic, understanding smile and has the gall to lay her hand on the top of his bicep and actually give it a slight squeeze.  And he frowns as he watches her head back into the restaurant, shaking his head when she gives him a long glance over her shoulder before disappearing inside.    

“Everywhere we go,” Ovi laments. “Everywhere."

“You think you have it bad. I’ve got strangers trying to feel me up all the time.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t look like that,” Ovi suggests.  

“Or maybe you should step up and take one for the team and get your game on.  I’ve got a wife to keep happy. She likes the way I look. You’ve just got Chloe and anything’s a step up from that. So....”

Ovi ignores the cheap shot and flips open the menu in front of him.  “So what’s going on?” he asks. “With Esme? Is she okay?”

“Not really,” Tyler admits. “But she will be.”

“Is she sick or...”

“Look mate, I know you’re worried. I know how close the two of you are. How much you love her. But I love her more. And I respect her. Which means I can’t tell you. It’s personal. And we’re dealing with it.”

“But she’ll be okay, right? Like she’s not going to die or anything like that?”

“It’s nothing like that. I promise. It’s just personal and she’s struggling and it’s something we need to deal with. That I have to help her with. She’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Ovi sighs and begins drumming his fingers against the tabletop. Stopping and giving an apologetic smile when Tyler glares at him. “Sorry,” he moves his hand to his thigh. Out of sight, out of mind.  “I just worry,” he says. “I don’t want anything bad happening to her. She didn’t give birth to me, but she’s still my mom. She’s the only mom I remember having. I don’t want to lose that.”

“She’s going to be fine,” Tyler assures him.  “You just have to trust me. That I’ll help her through things.”

“I do,” Ovi says.  “Trust you.”

“Yeah?” he sips his water. “So why didn’t you trust me enough to come to me sooner. About the job. That’s why we’re here, right? You want to talk about it in a public place because you know I won’t lose my shit on you.”

“Maybe,” Ovi sheepishly admits.

“I don’t know what more you want me to say. You know how I feel about it. You think it’s a terrible idea. That I think you’re way too good for that life. That you deserve a lot better than that.”

“So did you,” Ovi points out. “You deserved a lot better than that. But you still went into it.”

“I deserved shit. I was a fucking mess. Addicted to booze, addicted to pills, I’d abandoned my own kid when he was dying. I was a horrible fucking person and I deserved everything fucked up that the job entailed. I didn’t give a shit if I lived or died. I just didn’t have the balls to pull the trigger myself. Figured if someone did it for me, it was an easy way out. And if I did survive, I’d get paid for doing it. Win win, don’t you think?”

“I think that’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard,” Ovi says. “You made some mistakes. You were in a bad place. Especially when your son was sick. Doesn’t mean you had to pay for those decisions with your life.  That’s just...I don’t know...wrong."

“It’s where I was at the time. It’s what I felt I deserved. And if I’d died in Dhaka...” he shrugs. “...I died.”

“That’s messed up. You’ve paid for your mistakes. For your bad decisions. When you got me across the bridge. One good thing erases all the bad. You didn’t have to do it, but you did. You could have just left me in the street. When you knew there was no money.  But you didn’t. You still put yourself on the line to get me out of there. A bad person doesn’t do something like that. And you can’t convince me otherwise.”

He’d been looking for an absolution. Redemption, even. To wipe his slate clean.  Some days he feels as if he’s found it. That he’d been given a second chance to be a good person; blessed with a wife and five amazing kids and a peaceful, comfortable life. Other days he feels as if he’s still stuck in the same nightmare. Guilt that plagues him, dreams that haunt his sleep, a brain that won’t let him truly rest.  

“I just want to try it,” Ovi says. “The job. Just to see if it’s my thing.”

“It isn’t something you just ‘try’. You either go in balls to wall or you don’t go in it all. You want to try something? You want excitement? You want to test your adrenaline? Go bungee jumping or cliff diving or sky diving or shit like that. Don’t go into the job. Because it isn’t excitement you’re going to find. It’s death. And lots of it.”

“I like the idea of the risk. The danger.”

“All of a sudden you get off on having a gun held to your head? Or having to fight off a group of guys in a dark alley? Or constantly wondering if there’s a sniper getting ready to put a bullet in your brain? Fuck that. You’re smarter than this. Way too smart to think any of this is a good idea. And if it’s Chloe putting this bullshit in your head...”

“It’s not Chloe,” Ovi interjects. “It’s not. It’s me.”

“Bullshit. Because you’ve never once talked about any of this since she came along. Tell her if she has a death wish, she can go out and do the job. Get her to commit. Don’t let her throw you to the wolves, mate. Don’t let her make you think you’ve got something to prove or that this is the only thing that will ‘make you a man’. Because that’s shit and we both know it. That’s not what makes a man a man. Killing people. And it doesn’t matter if they deserve it or not.”

“You don’t think I can handle it, do you.”

“I know you can’t. And that’s not a slight on you. Some people are made to do the job, and some people aren’t. Some people are made for bigger and better things. And you’re one of these people.  You’re made for bigger and better things. Why would you want to settle for anything less?”

Ovi shrugs. “I want to do some good. After what you did for me in Dhaka....”

“I did what I had to do, mate. What I wanted to do. You don’t have to prove anything to me. I don’t expect thanks. And I don’t expect you to spend the rest of your life showing how grateful you are. I just want you to happy and live a good life. A good, long life. And that won’t happen if you get into the job.  There’s rarely a good ending, trust me.”

“You’ve been given a good ending,” Ovi points out.

“And I’ve probably used up all of the good luck that can come to one family. So about we not test it, yeah? How about you just forget about all of this and find something else to do with your life. Go back to school. Get an education. Get into a real career. I’ll pay for it. No hesitation. Just don’t do the job. That’s all I’m asking. That you do not get into that life.”

Ovi nods slowly as he considers Tyler’s words; eyes riveted on his menu, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.  “I have a confession to make,” he speaks after several minutes.

“I don’t think I like the sounds of this.”

“I’ve been talking to someone. About all of this. For a while now. Someone that’s still in the business and could answer all my questions and lead me in the right direction. Someone that wouldn’t freak out and threaten to beat my ass.”

“Someone who would encourage you to do stupid shit you mean,” Tyler concludes.  

“I needed to talk about it. With someone who wouldn’t get upset about it.  Who doesn’t have the history like you do. So...” his voice trails off.

Tyler’s eyes narrow.  “What the hell did you do?”

That's when he feels it; a presence lingering off to his right. A familiar scent. A firm hand that falls on his shoulder.  And he doesn’t even need to look back. He just knows.

“Hey Nik.”

****

“You look good,” she says in way of greeting, her hands massaging his shoulders.  “The retired life suits you.”  He’s considerably bigger now; wider, stronger, a brick wall of muscle.  The time he’s both devoted to the gym and living cleaner makes him feel healthier. And happier.

He smirks. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but...”

“I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome. At least not from you. But it’s good to see you, Tyler I’m glad life has been treating you well.  Of all the people who want a happy ending, you're the one who actually deserved it.”

“What are you doing here, Nik? I know it’s not just to stroke my ego.”

“Ovi invited me,” she gives his shoulders a final squeeze before sliding around to the other side of the table, waving down the waitress before slipping into the empty seat alongside of the younger man. “So we could talk.  We haven’t seen or talked to each other in six months. I was starting to worry about you.”

“You mean you were starting to get nosy,” Tyler retorts. “Wanted to see if my life had fallen apart. If maybe my wife had taken off with my kids yet. Kyle doesn’t keep you up to date on this stuff? I am married to his sister.”

“Kyle’s been very adamant about keeping his loyalties to his sister. The last time Esme and I spoke, things didn’t end very well.  She was stressed, you were on your way home, and she was worried about how to help you. Things were a little...harsh...between us.”

“For a reason,” Tyler points out. “I know exactly what you talked about and what she said to you. We don’t keep secrets. So cut the bullshit, Nik. What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

“I’d believe you if you told me you missed the things I can do for you. And I’m not talking behind closed doors, either. So don’t get your hopes up.”

Ovi shifts uncomfortably in his seat; thankful when the waitress comes to take Nik’s drink order. It lifts the tension and the hostility, at least temporarily.

“Last time we talked, things didn’t go so well,” she address Tyler.  “You told me to never contact you. Never to just show up out of the blue, never to text you, never email you.”

“Yet here you are so for some reason. Tracking me down where I live. Which I’m pretty sure I told Kyle to never mention to you. So you couldn’t just show up.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You of all should know if I have ways of finding things out. You’re harder than most, I have to admit. You know how to cover your tracks. You barely leave a footprint.  Still holding onto certain things, I see. Trying to exist but seem like a ghost at the same time. Old habits die hard, don’t they, Tyler.”

“You have no right being here, Nik. I asked you to stay away from me. No. I told you to stay away from me. I finally have a life. Somewhere quiet and peaceful where I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulder and I know my kids are safe.  And you...” he stares pointedly at Ovi.  “...what the fuck, mate? You knew I’d cut ties with her. With everyone involved in the job. Yet you go and do this?”

“Ovi thought it was a good idea that you and I talk,” Nik speaks for him.   “We haven’t touched base in a long time. It’s a good idea, don’t you think? If we get used to one another again? I am marrying your brother in law.”

They’d gotten the invitation a month ago; thick ivory card stock with gold leafing on the inside of the envelope and the invitation itself covered in dried, pressed flowers and ornate calligraphy done in rich cooper colored ink. It hadn’t been much of a surprise; Kyle had already created an entire Facebook page just to document their journey as an engaged couple.   And while they’d tried to be happy for Kyle’s sake, there was a lingering bitterness towards Nik that neither of them could let go of. She’d worked too long and too hard trying to destroy their marriage, why would they want to have anything to do with hers?  So the invitation sat on the top of the fridge collecting dust and they never spoke of it again.

“And you’ll be living in Colorado or wherever the hell you’ll drag his ass too and I won’t have to do have anything to do with either of you.  I don’t care if you’re marrying him or not. As long as you stay away from me, stay away from my wife, and stay away from my kids.”

“That’s not the way to treat a relative is it,” she coyly remarks, then gives a nod of appreciation to the waitress as she returns with her martini.   “The baby’s beautiful by the way. Congratulations.  Kyle’s shown me the pictures. She looks just like Esme. I’m looking forward to meeting my niece.”

“You’re not going to get close enough to meet her face to face, so...”

“Can’t you two just stop?” Ovi pleads. “Enough. Enough with this going back and forth. That’s not what we’re here for.”

“What are we here for?” Tyler asks, as he leans back in his chair and places his clasped hands on his stomach. “And don’t give me some bullshit, Nik. Just say what you want and get out of here.”

“Ovi asked me to come and talk some sense into you.”

“More like he wanted me to just cave in and agree with what he wants to do. Not going to happen. So if that’s what you’re going to try and do, you’re wasting your time and you should just get on the next flight out of here and...”

“I’ve been recruiting him,” she says. “I’ve been recruiting him for about a month now. After he contacted me wanting information about the job.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow. “What the hell are you doing, Nik? And why are you doing it? We both know that he’s not job material. That he wouldn’t last a day out there.”

“He’s tenacious, has a lot of energy, he’s smart.”

“Too smart to get involved with this. There are a million and one better things he could be doing with his life.  And being tenacious and having a lot of energy doesn’t mean shit when you’re out there.  When you’ve got to make the quick decisions in order to keep yourself alive. He doesn’t have what it takes.  He doesn’t have it in him to hurt people. He killed Gaspar and that fucked him up for years.”

“He was a kid then,” she reminds him.  “And if I remember correctly, I’m the one that said calling Gaspar wasn’t a good idea. I tried to talk you out of it, but you were so determined that he’d help you out because you’d saved his life. How did that go for you, Tyler? Trusting him? It didn’t take long for his loyalty to you to disappear, did it. As soon as there was ten million put on the table. Ten million for him and Esme, right? That was the deal.  Most men would have taken it.”

“What can I say, Nik?” he smirks. “I’m not most men.”

“He would have killed you to get to them. He wouldn’t have stopped until you were dead. And if Ovi hadn’t have picked up that gun...”

“He was fourteen years old and it fucked him up,” Tyler angrily interrupts. “It doesn’t mean if has what it takes to go out there and kill people. You’re smarter than this. Both of you are. So I don’t know who is brainwashing who, but...”

“You made me a promise, Tyler,” she says. “We made a deal. That I’d start a second branch and you’d run things.”

“That’s before things ended the way they did. Once I walked away from New Zealand, that was it. Fuck our deal. It meant shit after that.”

“I’ve offered Ovi a job.  A position with my team. As a mercenary.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind, Nik. You’re both out of your minds. This is a bad goddamn idea and you know it.  I gotta get out of here before I say or do something I really regret. I’ve got places I’d rather be than sitting here listening to this bullshit ”

Ovi throws his hands up in a mix of disappointment and exasperation and Nik instructs him to stay where he is as she hurries after Tyler, who easily escapes the patio just by swinging one leg over the makeshift fence, then the other.  She has to leave through the restaurant itself, and he’s already across the street and using the keyless remote to unlock his truck.

“You owe me this,” Nik growls, and lays a hand on the driver’s side window, forcing the door closed when Tyler tries to open it.

“I owe you shit. I’ve given you enough. I almost gave you my fucking life. Isn’t that good enough for you? You were perfectly fine with leaving me on that bridge to die.”

“That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

“It took you twenty minutes to come back. And you only did it because Yaz said he was going with or without you. You weren’t just going to leave me there; you were going to leave Esme there. Do you know what would have happened? Once Asif sent more people down there and saw that she was alive? Do you know what they would have done to her? I wouldn’t have been as quick and painless as a bullet in the head. They would have made her suffer and you knew it and you still left her there.”

“It all worked out in the end, didn’t it? The two of you. Marriage, five kids. You got your happy ending, didn’t you?”

“Because that’s what makes it all okay, yeah? That things didn’t get worse. We were expendable. Once you got Ovi, you didn’t give a shit about either of us.  You could keep whatever money you got. Two less people to have to share it with. Or were you that pissed about what went down? Those five days in the hotel. You knew what was going on. Did it piss you off that bad? That you’d just leave us there to die? Did we need to be punished, Nik? You needed to get even because it wasn’t you I was fucking.”

“Fuck you, Tyler!” she snaps, and he catches her by the wrist before the slap can even connect with his face. His fingers biting straight through the flesh and pressing painful against the bone.

“What do you want?” he hisses. “Why are you here? You won’t be happy until you completely fuck up my life? Until my wife leaves me and takes my kids?”

“That’s not it. At all.”

“Then what is it?” he snarls. “Quit wasting my fucking time and tell me.”

“I want your help,” she struggles against his grasp “With Ovi.”

“I’m not giving you shit.”

“I want you to just listen to me....and ow!” she lays her forearm against his chest and tries to shove him away. It’s as successful as trying to move a brick wall with your bare hands. “You’re hurting me!”

“Try to hit me again and I won’t hesitate putting you on your ass, understand me?”

She nods, then takes two steps back once he releases. “I just want you to listen to me. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.  I don’t to bring you back into the job. I just want you to help me with Ovi. I’ve given him a spot but on condition.  He needs training. Lots of it. I can’t send him into a situation without him knowing how to handle different weapons, hand to hand to combat, how to assess situations and problems before they arise.”

“I’m about five seconds away from washing my hands of this. Of you, of him, of this goddamn bullshit mess.  This is a mistake. A huge mistake. And I’m not going to just sit back and watch you fuck his life up. He doesn’t have it, Nik. And I know you see that. I know you see what I do. Why the hell push it? Why encourage when you could be helping him make his life better, not worse.”

She places her hands on her hips, regarding him with her head cocked to the side. “Why are you so against him doing this?”

“You’re actually asking me that? After everything he’s been through. After everything he saw in Dhaka. After living with us for five years and seeing my marriage nearly fucking destroyed because of the job. You have the nerve to ask me that? He’s better than this. And he deserves better and I’m not going just sit here and watch you screw up his entire life.”

“You can’t stop him, Tyler. He’s a grown man. He can make is own decisions.”

“He can’t even talk for himself and you think he can go into a place like Dhaka and handle shit? Enough with the bullshit, Nik. This ends. Right here. Right now.  This is a mistake and you know it. And the fact you would even prey on him like this...”

“I didn’t prey on him,” she interjects. “He contacted me.”

“And you could have told him that you weren’t interested and to never call you again.”

“And then what? Him find someone else? Someone that doesn’t have nearly the same experience? That would have ended badly, and you know it.”

“This is going to end badly!” Tyler snarls.  “Because he doesn’t have it and you know it and I know it. For fuck sakes, Nik. Enough.”

She remains steadfast. “You can train him.”

“Like hell I can!”

“You’re the best mercenary I’ve ever had. There’s no one that can train him the way you can. I know you think you’re probably rusty and you...”

“That’s not what I think. That has nothing to do with it. I’m not saying I can’t do it. I’m saying I won’t do it. I’m not getting involved with this. I’m done.”

“You don’t actually have to go on a job,” she informs him. “It can all be done right here. There are gyms, there’s firing ranges, there’s an entire beach at your disposal you can use to your advantage. I’m not trying to bring you back. I just want you to help.”

“I’m not helping you, Nik. I was done helping you six months ago. And I love the kid like he’s my own, but I wouldn’t let any of my boys get into the job so I'm sure as fuck not going to let him.  What the hell is wrong with you? That you’d even have the nerve to come to me with this?”

“He’s your son, Tyler. Maybe not by blood. But...”

“Yeah. He is. Which is why I’m not helping you. I told his old man I’d take care of him. Not throw him to the fucking wolves!”

“So you’d rather I just send him out there with no training?” she challenges.

“I’d rather you give your head a fucking shake and realize what a huge mistake you’re making.”

“This is what he wants, Tyler. He wants a chance to prove himself.”

“To who? You? To his girlfriend? Who is just as delusional as you, by the way. The two of you should meet. You’d make a great pair.”

“You ever stop to think he’s trying to prove something to you?”

“What the hell does that mean? What does he have to prove to me? When have I ever made him think he has to?”

“You may not have made him feel that way, but he does. He thinks he has to fill your shoes. Take up where you left off.”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve never made him feel that way. And I never would.”

“It’s how he feels. He feels he needs to live up to something. That he needs to prove to you that he’s good enough. That he’s worthy of being your son.”

“Jesus Christ, Nik,” Tyler laughs. “That is really reaching. Are you just making this shit up as you go along?”

“I can send you the text messages. The emails. That he sent me when I asked him why he wanted to do this.  That way you can see for yourself that what I’m saying is the truth.  He feels he owes you something. For saving them. And for nearly dying while doing it.”

“He doesn’t owe me anything. It was my job.”

“It was more than that you and you know it, Tyler. It stopped being about the job the second Mahajan screwed us over. It was all about Ovi from that point on. Because somehow saving him meant you were saving yourself. That you’d find forgiveness for the mistakes you’d made. He saw what you went through. Not just during Dhaka, but after it. And he feels guilty for that. He wants to make it up to you.”

“He has nothing to make up for. I did what I had to do. Nothing more, nothing less. We both know that he can’t hack it. The job. There’s no way.”

“He deserves a chance.”

“A chance for what? Getting shot in the fucking head?”

“He’s going to do this whether you like it or not, Tyler. Don’t you think he deserves a chance to make a real go of it? To survive his first day.”

He sighs. “Of course, I do.”

“If you train him...”

“I can’t. I can’t encourage him to do this. I told Esme I’d do everything I had to to stop him, not help him.”

She smirks. “That’s what it comes down to right? His safety and his life isn’t worth more than her trying to control you? She hasn’t done that enough? When she made you walk away?”

“We’re done, Nik,” he yanks the driver’s side door open.  

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” she shuts the door once again. “You’re going to let her call the shots? Still? It wasn’t enough for you to just walk away? She has to control everything else too?”

“I made the decision. I’m the one who left. She was the one who told me go back to New Zealand and when I got there, I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I left willingly. Because my wife and my kids are the most important things in my life, and it was time I showed that to them.”

“And Ovi isn’t important to you? He's not important enough to save his life?”

“I’ve already done that once. And I wouldn’t have to do it a second time if you weren’t encouraging him to do this shit.”

“And if you weren’t encouraging him to prove to you that he’s worthy of your love. Of being one of your kids.”

He shakes his head and gives a dry laugh. “I’m going home, Nik. To my wife.  I’m done. I’m not letting you drag me back into this. You find someone else. I’ve shed enough blood for you.”

She relents, holding her hands up in surrender as she backs away from the truck. “You’ll regret this Tyler.”

“Yeah?” he tosses the door open and climbs into the truck. “Add it the list”

[theartofdyingrp]

    L I S S A  B R I G A N T I   -

age: thirty-eight years old occupation: surgeon affiliation: solano faceclaim: rachel mcadams availability: taken

Ushered into the world in the height of a legendary power shift within the Sicilian Mafia, Lissa was the source of light in the dark and trying times. Her loose blonde curls and devastating smile won over the hearts of everyone she met. Her brother, fifteen and forced into the slew of training for the position Don, softened and relaxed holding his baby sister. Her father only ever took a break from his coup when little Lissa shed her tears. Her mother, however, was different. She was sad. Distant. Distraught. Everyone around her was far too busy with the takeover to notice. Her postpartum depression became too much to handle on her own. She didn’t want to bother her husband with such trivial matters in the trying time the family was facing. She killed herself a week before Lissa’s first birthday, leaving only a note behind.

Since, the power the Briganti family had rose exponentially. Her father’s coup, a great success and widely anticipated by the loyalists, was well overdue. For a decade, all was well for the Briganti mafia in their little city of Palermo. Though, there were those who remembered the old rulers. The Esposito family, while their patriarch was slaughtered years ago, never lost hope for their want of power. Their rightful power. Lissa was ten years old at the time, and her father sent her away at the first sign of rebellion. He would fight for his family and the empire that he stole, but he was not about to risk the safety of his youngest child and only daughter.

The young, sweet Sicilian girl was sent to live with the Solano family in California. An ocean away, Lissa cried the entire plane ride and didn’t stop when she got to the Solano estate just outside the city. She didn’t eat and could barely sleep her first night. Though, when Adrian came knocking on her door with a plate of warm cookies baked by his mother, Lissa opened up and welcomed him in.

If it weren’t for Adrian, Lissa would have hated living in America. The culture shock was devastating and only receiving letters from her family wasn’t enough to sooth her homesickness. Her family spared the details of the horrors happening back home, but she knew how much danger they were in. Having a friend in Adrian, however, lessened the hardships. They were fast friends and were almost inseparable. So, while Lissa attended her private all girls school, paid for by one of the annual checks her father sent to Luis Solano, she itches to get home to her best friend.

Lissa prevented him from getting himself in trouble, though, he didn’t always listen to her sound and rational advice. They balanced each other out. When they reached their teenage years, Adrian would scare away any boy interested in her that he didn’t deem fit while Lissa scoped out suitable mates for him. When he got stressed with both his school work and the training his father gave him, Lissa snuck him beer or baked him a treat to help calm him down. They scoffed at their friends who teased them. “You two are going to get married one day,” they’d say. At sixteen years old, they thought they couldn’t be more wrong.

With the best possible high school education in California, it was easy for Lissa to get into any school she applied to; Harvard called her name, even if that meant she’d be separated from the Solano family. If she ever wanted to visit, it was just a plane ride away. It was do-able. Though, Lissa wasn’t the first one to really miss the family. It was Adrian who was first to miss her. He came for a visit one weekend, despite his busy class schedule at Stanford.

The chilly nights of late October made for relaxing by the fireplace in her dorm and plenty of drinking at the bar on Campus. Lissa introduced him to all her friends as what he was; a close friend from back home. Her boyfriend at the time, though, didn’t really believe her. She didn’t realize he had much of a temper until he yelled at her outside while the rest of her friends watched from the window. Lissa wasn’t shocked when Adrian came out and punched him square in the jaw. In fact, it made her laugh. She grabbed her friend by his hand and dragged him back to her dorm, drunkenly laughing all the way there.

Her roommate traveled home that weekend, leaving a cheap bottle of sparkling wine behind. Lissa popped it and started drinking right from the bottle when Adrian blurted out I love you. He laughed at her antics and smiled. He kept saying it, too. I love you over and over. She giggled and passed the bottle to him, saying his words right back to him. The first thing Adrian’s ever done that shocked Lissa was when he teared up reading his acceptance letter to Stanford; the second thing happened that night. He took her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that she’s never experienced before. In that moment, Lissa understood their high school friends were right; they would get married one day.

From that night on, Adrian and Lissa were inseparable in a different way; of course, the families approve of the match, but the rules had certainly changed. Adrian and Lissa couldn’t get away with much of anything in the Solano house, but that didn’t matter. By the time Lissa graduated from Harvard, Adrian already had his own apartment in the city as he worked under his father. Lissa moved in immediately. While she attended medical school, Adrian worked as his father’s underboss. Both insanely busy, the idea of getting married or having a family never crossed their minds.

One night, Henry was shot. Lissa had just started her residency at the hospital when Adrian brought his bloodied brother to their apartment. Her adrenaline kept her from panicking and dealt with the wound right away. Sanitizing the hole with vodka she dug into his leg with a pair of tweezers to pull out the small bullet that was lodged in his bone. She was just glad the bullet didn’t shatter. That night, while Lissa knew she’d keep her job at the hospital she demanded that Adrian build a medical room somewhere. It could be the Solano Estate, at the hospital, hell, she didn’t care if it was at the club. All she knew was if something like this happened again, and it would happen again, she wanted the proper setup. All Adrian did in response was smile, nod and ask her to marry her. She smacked his arm, yelled that he should’ve been more romantic, and said yes.

The next few years were seemingly perfect. She and Adrian tied the knot in a beautiful ceremony followed by a rowdy reception, and had a daughter two years later. Sylvia Caroline Solano, named for their two mothers, was the light in everyone’s lives. It was only when Luis was diagnosed with ALS that the couple were brought back to reality; nothing stayed perfect for long. They relocated to the Solano estate and the family watched as Luis’ body deteriorated while his mind stayed in tact.

Lissa wasn’t in the room when he asked, but Lissa knew that Luis made Adrain pull the trigger for him. It wasn’t fair for a father to ask that of his son. It ruined him. For months Adrian couldn’t control his temper or his drinking. He’d yell, scream and punch walls when Lissa knew he wanted to hit her. Though, she stood by him. He was grieving. It wasn’t something Lissa could understand. How awful it must’ve been to carry around the guilt of killing your own father. Finding out he slept with someone else, the same woman multiple times, Lissa couldn’t handle it anymore. Divorce.

Leaving her best friend was the most difficult thing she’d ever have to do in her life. Adrian’s consigliere helped her find a decent lawyer and when she found her own apartment he’d come over and listen to her cry while they shared a bottle of wine. When he confessed his feelings for her, she was shocked. Stunned silent. She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that love was exactly what she wanted to feel. So, she kissed him. Maybe she wanted to do something to spite Adrian, even if he never found out about it. Eli was there for her. It felt right, no matter how wrong it was.

   C O N N E C T I O N S   -

adrian solano: husband (separated) sylvia solano: daughter (eight years old) elijah deluca: interest

[bored-panda-lolol]

8 Reasons to Upgrade Your AC System Instead of Repairing It

Upgrading your AC system is a big decision, because the cost is rarely cheap. Making such a big financial decision should involve research, and that’s why we put together this list of reasons you might want to consider upgrading your AC system i your Flower Mound home.

Make no mistake, there are times it absolutely does not make sense to upgrade, and we’ll talk about that later.

For now, let’s look at why you might want to upgrade.

1. Save Money by Upgrading Your AC System

How will a new, more efficient air conditioner save money? Not to be redundant, but efficiency is the answer. By using electricity more efficiently, and usually by integrating with smart tech, your cost goes down. How much money you save depends on different factors: the age & size of your home’s current AC system, insulation, amount of shading in your landscape, and thermostat settings.

The air conditioner is usually the highest energy use appliance in a home, especially in Flower Mound, TX, so it pays to make certain it’s the most energy-efficient appliance, too.

Let’s look the numbers.

A new, more efficient air conditioner system could reduce cooling costs by as much as 20%-50%!

Today’s central air conditioners build on decades of research and improvement, could save you plenty of cash even if your current AC system isn’t that old.  Thanks to even more recent advancements, today’s air conditioners are 20%-40% more efficient than those that are just 10 years old.

That’s serious improvement, and you can take advantage of that improvement for your home.

2. Reduce the Cooling Load in your Home

When HVAC system pros design systems for residential homes in Texas cities like Flower Mound and Lewisville, one of the main factors they take into account is the home’s cooling load.

The Cooling Load is amount of thermal energy that your AC system must remove from a cooled interior living space so that it can maintain a comfortable temperature range for you and your family.

While it is entirely possible to determine a precise cooling load for every individual Flower Mound or Lewisville home, not all AC companies do. Instead, many rely on a general relationship between interior space and cooling needs, known as “the rule of thumb”.

This “rule of thumb” calculation produces reasonably accurate cooling load calculations for most homes in this area, but always feel free to ask for more information if you like.

If you have made efforts to increase your home’s energy efficiency, also known as “tightening the building envelope”, your home’s cooling load might be markedly lower than the rule of thumb suggests. If this is true, it’s important to get more precise cooling load calculation, since this number largely determines the right size for your home’s air conditioner system.

An AC system that is too large for your home will suffer from inefficiency, excessive wear and tear, all of which will shorten the lifespan. That’s why reducing your home’s thermal load is a good reason to think about upgrading to a new, more appropriately sized air conditioning system.

3. Your AC Cooling System Is More Than 10 Years Old

Most air conditioners are designed to last for at least 10 years. After 10 years, many AC systems may not work as efficiently as when they were first installed in your home. The 2 ways old AC units cost you money: they will lose efficiency or they’ll need repairs often.

Air Conditioner repairs become much more expensive after the 10-year mark, simply because you’re replacing larger and larger components of the system.

It’s natural to think that replacing a 10 or 12-year-old air conditioner system sounds like spending too much money. But when you consider the upside of upgrading to a new cooling system, it starts to make more sense. When you invest in a new HVAC system, you’ll see the upfront cost, but the latest technology updates on current systems  mean that you will almost certainly save money over time, and possibly even pay for the upgrade difference outright.

Almost all new air conditioner systems work with “smart” thermostats, meaning that you save on utility costs by holding your energy usage to lower amounts for long periods of time each day.

4. Repairs, Repairs, Repairs (did we mention repairs)

Let’s face it: AC repairs ain’t cheap.

If you wait and hope until something actually breaks, those costs are going to be inconvenient, so it’s best to plan ahead.

Now, when you compare repair vs. replacement, you’ll easily see that continuous repairs to your AC system are going to be expensive! Even with the help of a highly skilled Flower Mound AC repair company, an HVAC unit may start to show its age.

To keep these costs under control, you want to determine a repair cost cutoff – meaning that once you reach a certain point of  repair costs, you go ahead and replace the entire AC system.

How do you determine your repair cost cutoff point? Consider this: if a major piece of your AC system fails, like the fan motor or the condenser unit, or the repair cost is approaching to ½ the cost of  a new air conditioner system, it’s probably better to upgrade your AC system. You should still discuss all your options vis a vis repair vs. replacement with one of our friendly HVAC professionals, so that you can get a better idea of all costs involved and the lifespan of your current unit vs a new one.

You’ll feel much better about making that choice with all your bases covered.

5. Repairs Often Cost More Than a Brand-New Unit

Sticker shock is real with HVAC repairs. Maintaining an older air conditioner system under the demands of heat in Flower Mound and Lewisville summers is no joke. According to a 2017 report from HomeAdvisor, most homeowners shell out between $164 and $506 on each air conditioner repair call to maintenance companies.

Those really start to add up on an older AC system that’s beyond its service life, and can easily tack on hundreds or thousands of dollars to your cumulative repair bill.

What repairs are these, you ask?

For starters, your AC system could need parts that can be relatively hard to find, or aren’t even in production anymore, which would require custom-built solutions or components that are as close to the original as possible.

Older HVAC systems could also need more labor to diagnose & repair than newer systems. More than one component can also fail at once, which almost always points to replacement over repair, because at that point, the bill is going to be really high.

If the cost of keeping your HVAC system on life support exceeds the cost of a newer, more efficient model, that’s when you know it’s time to invest in an upgrade to your AC system.

6. Boost Your Property Value with a New AC System

Investing in an upgraded central air conditioning system to your Flower Mound home or office could increase your property value by up to 12%, according to information collected by the National Association of Realtors.

Always choose a newer, more energy-efficient AC system when shopping for one. Whether planning to sell your home or not, investing in an upgrade will give your property value a nice boost. Your home will also stand out from other homes in the neighborhood.

7. Better Air Quality for your Family

A very important, but often overlooked function for your HVAC system is maintaining high air quality in your home. Your air conditioner is simultaneously providing ventilation, holding the humidity at an acceptable point, while also filtering particulants out of your air.  You and your kids would be breathing these particles without  this filtering.

Because modern homes are built for energy efficiency, meaning that they will be as air tight as possible, air inside your home could be up to 5 times more polluted than air outside.

Modern AC systems offer add-ons like whole home dehumidifiers, air filters and air purifiers.  These units not only capture minute particles, they are capable of cleaning the air and destroying harmful molds, vapors and germs. The result is that you get a cleaner and healthier living environment for you and your family.

Your HVAC system in your home is there to heat and cool your home, but it also plays a role in cleaning the air. If your current outdated system doesn’t do a good job of filtration and ventilation, it’s another reason to upgrade.

Some HVAC systems have options that will filter allergens like pet dander and dust. If someone in your home suffers with asthma or allergies, this could be a very beneficial option to consider. Good air quality means that everyone breathes better, and that enhances your home’s comfort. Other units have a pre-installed air-purifying and air-cleaning system, which makes your air quality even better.

Are you thinking about upgrading to a new HVAC system? Service Hub of Texas installs new Heating & Air Conditioning systems, and we’re here to help.

Call (972) 449-4463 today, and let’s get started!

8. New, Efficient AC Systems are Better for the Environment

Older, outdated air conditioning systems weren’t made with environmental protection in mind. They tend to use a lot of electricity, and they also use Freon to cool the air. Freon is an effective a refrigerant, it contributes to ozone depletion when it leaks (and old AC systems leak a lot). Modern AC systems use the chemical R-410A instead of Freon. R-410A is just as effective as Freon, but doesn’t contribute to ozone depletion.

The post 8 Reasons to Upgrade Your AC System Instead of Repairing It appeared first on Service Hub of Texas.

source https://servicehubtx.com/8-reasons-to-upgrade-your-ac-system-instead-of-repairing-it/ source https://queerstarks.tumblr.com/post/622784788599799808