#and dealt with addiction and got to the point of stealing money or trying to return items he never bought to walmart for a refund

[nagitoedit]

there are things abt me that i dont talk about not because im being secretive i either just forget to mention it or think no one wants to hear about it but i think it gives like important context to whats wrong with me 💖

#me when im a child of a messy divorce because my dad has crazy issues that he never got help for so he started self medicating #and dealt with addiction and got to the point of stealing money or trying to return items he never bought to walmart for a refund #and got arrested many times and eventually spent 5 years in prison which literally didnt help at all just gave him more trauma and #caused relationship issues between him and his family which left him without healthy connections and support and #then he got accused of a crime even my mom doesnt believe he did and she'd experienced horrible things from him while they were together #and so he disappeared to run from the police and hes been legally considered a missing person for many years now and it is unknown to #us or any of his family members if hes even still alive out there somewhere and ive had dreams that he comes back and #i wonder if theres something that could be done something that could help him maybe we could never truly be on good terms again but #maybe at least he could have a chance at a decent life even if its away from us #i used to sit on the couch with him and watch nascar and monster trucks when i was little #and i still have some of his nascar novelty items in my desk drawer and the pocket tool that used to be his. #the scars of his tantrums are still in our house the holes he punches in walls covered up with copy paper taped over the wall #and im sure i have the same anger issues or whatever disorders he never got properly diagnosed for because i seem to have inherited everyth #ng from him his eyes his face his hair his anger issues even his handwriting somehow #and he is why im scared of ever doing any drugs because i just know im probably genetically predisposed to addiction just like him #and i dont want that to happen to me #recently i cut my hair and i looked in the mirror and i looked just like him #when i visit my paternal grandparents and aunts and uncles i see the family photos with him hanging on the walls #and i see that large painting that used to be in our house #👍

[demonicintegrity]

more Helluva s2e1 thoughts

- I don’t think Stolas was crushing on Blitzo for all that time. I think after that day they fell out of contact and that was that. Stolas was trying to use the anniversary party as a chance to catch up on those 25 years, but I don’t think there was that string overly attached to it. There’s a solid chance that yea, lil Stolas was infatuated but he was also roughly 10, so he would’ve gotten over it soon enough. He just wanted to catch up, it was a nice out to a shitty party anyways. And then as I said in my last post, it quickly became throwing himself into an escapism fantasy because holy hell was Stella’s abuse starting to crack him.

- Speaking of Blitzo, his dad was shitty in his own way. We see his father leverage his mother and the family situation to get Blitzo to steal, even if it could’ve put him in harms way.

- Seriously, i was so worried for Blitzo and Stolas in those scenes. If Blitzo was caught he very well could’ve been killed for it, depending on how merciful Paimon would be. There would’ve been serious punishments dealt. To Blitzo and him when the child obviously would’ve snitched.

- He says it can be used for a bigger tent and for better food. So we know the family circus is doing well enough to draw a good crowd and warrant a bigger tent for more acts w/ the amount of imps they have in it. But yet the the income is also unsteady/little enough to be explicit about being cheap with food. My guess is the father is using the money for drugs. That’s why he took Paimon’s five dollars over a check for what could’ve been hundreds if not thousands. Cash is used for drug deals because it’s under the table work. Even if it’s legit in Hell, cash is also instant, where as a check needs to be processed in a bank. He could’ve gotten more right after that interaction. An addiction would be able to convince a father to give up his son for a time for drug money. Addiction also runs in the family and we know Blitzo’s sister was/is in rehab. It wouldn’t be the first time the shows would tackle substance abuse.

- The page of Asmodeus Crystals has been translated by other fans. The sparknotes of it is that it’s a crystal used to let incubuses and succubuses get to the living world. That’s how Verosika and her crew got to the spring break party.

- I think this is what Blitzo was going to use to do IMP work but then he broke up with Verosika. Idk what happened between them but post breakup he couldn’t use it anymore/if he was using it at all. But then he remembered Stolas had a book and took it upon himself to get it. Which is. A pretty ballsy move tbh.

- It might’ve been desperation at this point. Post break up, estranged from Fizz/probably his circus family as a whole, and now having both employees and a daughter to provide for. The crystals are set in jewelry specifically so they can be worn and not lost/stolen easily, so he mustve had trouble in order to go for a Prince’s grimoire.

- And I think Stolas was looking those up because he could give Blitzo that and then cut him from this escapist lie for good. Many people think this might be the case. So it’s either that and/or he was curious as to what could’ve linked him and Verosika together.

- Still don’t know anything about Blitzo and Verosika’s relationship, other than he just up and left at random and that was that. I don’t forsee us getting a ton of context anytime soon. But maybe eventually.

- Rewatching the trailer for season two, I think Blitzo will be getting his own backstory episode or two in the season as well. If s1 was current day as it is, s2 is shaping up to be looking at the past to see how everyone got here. Of course the focus will be on Blitzo primarily because it’s the IMP this show is about, he is the Helluva Boss that it’s titled after. The rest of the employees have always been his supporting cast. But as we’ve seen, Stolas and Fizz are very intertwined with his past so it’s going to be addressed this year.

- My guess at the plotline is so vague. Season 1 for Blitzo was the present to distract. For Stolas it was the present to escape/the bg separation arc happening. Season 2 for Blitzo is likely addressing the past while for Stolas it’s going to be addressing the present truthfully and his divorce arc.

- I wonder if he’ll fight for custody of Octavia. If it works anything like (us) human courts she has a stay in where she goes, even if her mother tries to influence/bribe/threaten/fight it. He also is going to be his family heir I believe, not hers. He wouldn’t even need any child support money because he is the one with the money, Stella herself said it. He can easily say wave all custody and i won’t ask for child support. But also, there’s courtly nonsense attached to the parents so who knows.

- I have. No idea what Blitzo is going to be up to. If it follows the season 1 formula it’s still gonna mostly be about the different jobs IMP takes, so probably that. I do think from the trailer we’ll see some of the work Blitzo mightve been doing before forming IMP.

- We’ll also see development on Striker’s mission against Stolas. And knowing how he feels about the goetia, if he had the opportunity to double cross Stella after payment I think he’d take it. I also think this mission against Stolas is what’s going to force Blitzo and Stolas to talk again, because I don’t think either of them want to see each other for a little bit.

- Remember, the relationship was escapism for Stolas and a transaction for Blitzo. Blitzo didn’t mean for feelings to get attached and thought Stolas was equally as transactional. Stolas was aware he was being delusional in this “love” because he needed an escape. If either of them want to process all that baggage they have and then created, they need space.

- But they also need communication. And closure, if this really is the end of any intimate relationship. So they will need to have an honest conversation at some point, smth I don’t see Blitzo as very capable of doing.

- Stella is right, Stolas’ rep is done for. She was already bashing on him during their marriage and im sure even moreso during the separation. But this divorce will be the nail in the coffin. I doubt the noble families will care about the abuse, if they believe it at all if they continue to parallel how our society treats male abuse victims. No, he won’t care for what it does to himself, but he will care when it inevitably affects his daughter. I wonder if Paimon will make another appearance to give his thoughts about it.

- We’re in for one helluva season two. I can only hope the crew survives to show it.

#helluva boss #helluva s2e1 #helluva stolas #helluva blitzo

[eliahq]

( LORENZO ZURZOLO + CISMALE ) —  Have you seen ELIA DELUCA? This TWENTY-TWO year old is a BAKERY CLERK / BABYSITTER who resides in THE BRONX. HE has been living in NYC for HIS WHOLE LIFE, and is known to be STEADFAST and SELFLESS, but can also be CYNICAL and RESERVED, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with A PATCHWORK APRON DUSTED WITH FLOUR and INK PEEKING OUT FROM THE COLLAR OF HIS SHIRT.

trigger warnings: drug abuse and child neglect. @codstarters​

elia and his little sister adriana were brought into the world by two people who had absolutely no business being parents in the first place.

both addicts, their parents blew all of their money on booze and drugs, pretty much snorting and injecting whatever product they could get their hands on. 

whenever money was tight, they would trade their food stamps for a quick fix, forcing elia to steal just so him and his sister could have something to eat. 

elia and adriana spent a good chunk of their childhood living out of their parents’ car, and a few years with an estranged uncle until they got separated and put into foster care. 

whilst adriana was adopted by a family in colorado, elia was shuffled from one home to another until he aged out of the system with nowhere to go.

the sudden transition was tough but it also wasn’t anything new to him since up to that point, elia’s life had really just been a constant cycle of him trying to survive. 

he couch-surfed with friends who were kind enough to let him, working up to 3 jobs at a time and skipping meals just so he could save some extra cash.

he saved up his money until he could afford a shared space in the south bronx, a small yet cozy two bedroom apartment nestled right above manhattan. 

it was the first place elia would ever truly call home, and the first time he actually felt genuinely happy waking up in his own bed. after being brought down so many times before, it felt like things were finally coming together for him.

appearance: 6ft tall. brown hair, blue eyes. hella eye bags. pretty much wears the same hoodie, combat boots and jeans combo everyday, but in slightly different colors. he’s got his sisters name tatted on his inner left arm like this, and an angel similar to this one on the left side of his neck. if you look closely at his right cheek there’s a scar where he got bitten by a dog when he was a little kid. 

personality: the type to say he’s fine but really be suffering in silence. great listener, just not a big talker, even when he’s around people he knows really well. a lot of things in his childhood has made him a more cynical person in certain aspects of his life, but there is still a bigger side of him that’s extremely considerate and thoughtful of others. like truly, to the point where he’ll completely disregard his own feelings.

headcanons:

the whole thing with his sister is kinda complicated? he thinks about her everyday but still can’t take that first step in trying to find her because he knows it will stir up a lot of old memories and there’s still trauma from that time of his life that he hasn’t completely dealt with yet. 

knows how to make a bomb ass pasta (#husbandmaterial!!). he used to be a mess in the kitchen but after moving into his new place he would secretly teach himself how to cook whenever his roommate wasn’t home (idk it was just embarrassing for him when they were there because cooking to him felt like something he SHOULD know but for obvious reasons never learned). 

works at a boutique bakery/coffee shop on the upper east side. very cute, very ~exclusive~, and he gets to leave every closing shift with a box of fancy cupcakes (see, having him as a roommate does come with its perks). 

has two different families that he regularly babysits for.

his guilty pleasure song is “hips don’t lie” by shakira. 

birthday / zodiac sign: december 31, capricorn.

orientation: bisexual, demiromantic.

relationship status: single.

wanted connections: 

friends who took him in when he got out of foster care 

bakery regulars

friends with benefits

roommate

ex-fling

any of these plots

#codintro #drug abuse tw #drugs tw #child neglect tw

[the-healingprocess]

taking care of my caretakers

the flashbacks of my old friend’s suicide attempts force me to reflect on my childhood. mostly how it shaped the person I am, really. it is painfully obvious that I am an empath. 

I try to explain being an empath to people and sound nuts, but I guess this sums it up: 

The term empath comes from empathy, which is the ability to understand the experiences and feelings of others outside of your own perspective. You take things a step further. You actually sense and feel emotions as if they’re part of your own experience. In other words, someone else’s pain and happiness become your pain and happiness.

thats exactly it. I absorb someone else’s emotions as if they were my own experience. I understand and feel so deeply. I'm genuinely there with whoever is hurting or experiencing that emotion. I've always been like this. 

looking back on my life as a kid, I really didn’t get to be a kid. my younger sister did, though. she was perfect. her life was different. my mother is finally coming to terms with that, but that is a whole different can of worms. maggots, really. 

my mom struggled with mental health. she still does. she had a very hard life growing up, too. her relationship with my father was extremely toxic. they split up pretty early in my life. I was just a young kid but I remember it vividly. at the time, I was pretty close to my dad. he was worried I would let someone else “be my father” but he was my protector, especially when my mom had one of her manic, abusive freak outs. I think it’s bi-polar but she’s in denial. always has been. 

my dad protecting me changed when he moved out. I became bait. my mom immediately started seeing someone else. I assume it was infidelity considering the first time I met him, she had an engagement ring on her finger. there was infidelity on his side, too. they hated each other. my mom hated me because I looked like him as a kid. 

yes, hated me. and made it very clear. 

the years of mentally and emotionally scarring verbal, physical, and emotional abuse I endured from my mom due to her mental health issues is not really the point of this, although it has impacted my life greatly. 

my father being absent, using me to taunt my mother, stealing money from me since I was a child, lying through his teeth, and making it clear he never wanted me in the first place has also impacted my life greatly. he has set the bar extremely low for the qualities I have sought out in men. 

my mom and I have worked hard to heal our relationship, but it has not been easy. it has taken years. I don’t forget anything...I'm not sure if I even forgive. 

my father, on the other hand, I don’t have much emotional capacity for. he does not engage in me really. he told me not too long ago if it were up to him he would’ve “ran for the hills and never had a child.” I fear a man like him.

I fear being with anyone in case they are like him one day. they have made me feel that I am better off alone. maybe undeserving. I'm not sure. 

the point of this was to reflect on the way I had to nurse my mother’s pill addiction throughout the years, especially while she was abusive to me. 

when she was addicted to muscle relaxers, she was also pretty suicidal. she’d get into these blackout rage freak out episodes and tell me all the ways she plans to kill herself. where I could find her if I came home one day and she was gone. overdosed at the motel down the road or hanging from our front tree. 

she said it would be partially my fault. I made her hate her life. she said I disgusted her. this was my father’s fault. she doesn’t remember these things. she wasn’t in the right mind. I wholeheartedly believe that despite being unsure of where I am in the forgiveness process with her. I don’t forgive my father. he launched me into the water to see if I could swim with a shark and left me there. 

he never believed me either. 

the nights I spent for years pulling food out of her mouth when she was too high to swallow so she wouldn’t choke to death. or if she was choking, to save her. having to pretty much drag her up the stairs because she couldn’t walk. helping her throw up. forcing her to drink water. stationing her body in bed with proper pillows so she didn’t aspirate. 

I was just a kid going into my teenage years. 

I used to walk to the park at night and cry after these episodes. 

why was I taking care of my caretaker? I had to grow up so fast. 

I took care of her just for her to abuse me when she was sober. 

I prayed to whatever was up in the universe to push her to get help before it was too late. 

I protected my sister, despite the fact that she never protected me. 

she was diagnosed with anorexia. I helped her with fluids and sugars when she’d pass out in the kitchen or fall down. but when I was being beaten and called names, she just watched and let my mother shower her with love while I was left alone to sulk in pain. 

we hate each other. 

I was never enough. 

over the years, my mother recovered and was properly diagnosed and medicated. with time, she reflected on her actions. she has made steady progress. 

over the years, my father has dealt with several extreme illnesses and has nearly lost his life 7ish times or so. I can’t keep count. watching him on his death bed was mind numbing. begging him to try to take care of himself to stay alive and seeing him refuse to be healthy was exhausting. it still is. 

he does not care. sometimes I wonder if he even cares to see me be successful. I don’t even think he knows how to do anything but talk about himself sometimes. but I'd have to ask my sister since they’re great together, too. 

when I was hospitalized, he yelled at me for having to drive three hours to be with me. I “interrupted his poker tournament.” the flu had gone to my heart and lungs but, how dare I? typical me being useless. 

people say the middle kid is always the least loved or undesired one - like the red headed step child type of shit. that’s exactly it. 

he left me as soon as I got my own room and oxygen on me. he couldn’t miss the chance to win money. 

all he does is fuck me over financially. he has taken money from me since I was a kid. I helped my mom pay our bills since I was 8. I know how much money I have and when it goes missing. when I was hospitalized, despite me being on family health insurance, he managed to put thousands of dollars of hospital bills in my name, lied about paying them, and let me go to collections. he has signed things and put me in collections more than once, all because of lying. my biggest fear is being a financial fuck up like him. I work too hard. these are just some examples of his shadiness. 

he doesn’t call me, ever. I'm too exhausted to be the only one that tries. 

when he does call me, he’s the one high on pills now and can’t even function. he’s addicted but at least he admits it. he needs them to some extent because of all the surgeries, but he eats them like candy and gets them off the streets. he knows I have no tolerance for addiction. I don’t understand it. it ruined my life. 

the shit storm that has been my life has made me terrified to have my own family. the thought of bringing something so fragile into this world and having a broken home or putting it into harms way scares the hell out of me. I would never want my kid to feel even a fraction of the pain I felt growing up. I can’t imagine someone even loving me enough. 

my mom and I are extremely close. we work on communication a lot. she vents to me about her relationship with her mother and I hear my angry, hurt child self in her. my grandma put her through so much pain. my grandma makes it very clear she favorites my mom’s younger sister - she openly says it. they haven’t worked anything out. it kills my mother. her anger and tears - I feel it in my heart. but, that was me for years and years. sometimes it still is and my mom knows it. 

I am trying so hard to change my narrative. I deserve to. 

[zarcake-writes]

First Meeting

Hey! Here’s that McCree fanfic I was talking about the other day I started this like forever ago, and I just finished it. I might have rushed it, but whatever. Also, read the warnings below. 

Warnings: the threat of rape, drug abuse mention, abusive ex-boyfriend, kidnapping, attempted human trafficking

You wake with your head pounding. You open your eyes and find yourself in the back of your car. The world was spinning slightly, and for a moment you’re confused. How did you get back here? Who’s driving? Why is this shitty music playing?

It’s a struggle to lift your head, but when you do, you see the familiar outline of your ex in the driver seat. That explains the shitty music and the smell of horrible cologne. He insisted the cologne is high end.

The memories of how you got here slowly come back. He attacked you in your house and eventually knocked you unconscious. The throbbing on the side of your head serves as a reminder.

Now that you think about it, your arms and wrists hurt. When you try to move them, you find they are tied behind your back. Whatever he used to bind your hands, the edges are sharp and dig into your skin. The slightest tug to the ties and pain shoots up your arms. You barely hold in your cry.

You’re not sure what your ex has planned, but you know it’s nothing good.

With nothing else to do but wait to see what he has in store for you, you lay your pounding head against the backseat of your car. Maybe you can fight him off and get away from him. Your legs aren’t bound, so you can always run. But where can you run? You pray he takes you somewhere populated.

The bastard, you knew you should have insisted on a restraining order. But you were so tired of dealing with him, you just wanted to be done with him. The last you saw him was over a year ago. It had been a wonderful year, with no abusive or drug-addict boyfriend living with you. No one was there to steal from you, to push you into the wall, or threaten to kill you. You were a fool to think you could be done with him so easily.

When he finally stops the car and turns it off, you can hear music playing outside the car. He opens the driver door and yells a greeting to someone, then slams the door shut. Over the loud music outside, you can hear your ex talking, but you can’t hear what he is saying. There is another voice, then some laughs. The back door near your feet opens. When you look down, you see your ex. He reaches for you, but you kick him hard.

It feels good when he stumbles back and wheezes. But when he looks at you, the hate in his face makes your blood run cold.

“You bitch, come here,” he snapped.

He grabs you and pulls you out of the car, throwing you to the ground. All the air is knocked from your lungs and you groan in pain. The world is spinning, but you manage to roll onto your back.

Above you, the night sky is clear and a full moon is overhead. You shiver slightly, whether it was from the cold desert air or your current situation, you weren’t sure. You can taste blood in your mouth and you just want to sleep. But the sky above you is so beautiful. You hope this is the last thing you see before you die.

Someone grabs you and hauls you up onto your feet. The beautiful view of the night sky is replaced with the irritating face of your ex. While he looks proud to have reduced you to such a state, you feel nothing but hate for him. Not only did he hurt you in the past, but he broke into your house, attacked you, kidnapped you, and is going to do god knows what.

You fucking hate him.

“Hey, baby. I need your help. You’re going to get me out of my debt,” he said. His hands cup your face and he gives you a smile.

“Fuck you. I’m not giving you any of my money, get a job,” you spat.

“I’m not asking for your money baby, I’m selling you,” he said.

“What? To fucking who?!” you screamed.

He points to his left. You see a large building and a few smaller ones around it. But what really scares you are the men in front of your car. You recognize them as that biker gang called the Deadlock Rebels.

The bikers, like many people in this area, are fond of the whole wild west aesthetic. But unlike most other people, they also look like the stereotypical bikers. All are wearing denim vests; some are wearing cowboys’ hats on and boots. The boots vary, some wear cowboy boots while others wear motorcycle riding boots.

Their aesthetic might be all over the place, but they are all dangerous people. You know the stories. Where ever this gang goes, mayhem and death follow. While they originally dealt with illegal weapons sales, they began to smuggle drugs.

The sight of them, and knowing that your future will lie with them, makes you sick.

“You son of a bitch,” you snapped.

Your ex jumps at your voice but points his finger in your face. “Listen I need you to do this for me.”

“For you? Why would I do anything for you?”

“Because I’m in debt to these men because of you.”

“Because of me? You fucker. God, I hope someone unties my hands so I can give you a fucking ass-kicking.”

“Alright, enough of this." A large omnic biker steps into view and pushes your ex back a bit. "The boss will want to talk to you about the payment you brought. Come inside.” 

One of the bikers grabs your arm and pulls you towards the larges building. You glare at your ex and spit blood in his direction.

Inside the large building, which must have been a warehouse at one point, the biker sits you down on a chair. You snicker when you see your ex is forced to stand. The rest of the bikers sit around in various areas, some are smoking and a few others are drinking. You look at your ex, the fear on his face is amusing. You can’t hold in your snort.

“What you laughing about, girl?” the omnic biker from before asked.

“Him. He looks scared, yet I’m the one who’s tied up and is going to be sold to a gang. Fucking asshole,” you muttered. The biker looks at your ex and laughs, a few other bikers join in as well. Your ex scowls at you but keeps his mouth shut. 

A door behind you opens and you hear the jingle of spurs. You glance back and see another cowboy walking in. From the way, he walks and the way he looks at everyone shows he was in charge. He has a cigar hanging out of his mouth and a large revolver on his hip. When he sees your ex he frowns, but when he sees you he looks confused.

“And who might this little lady be?” he asked. He approaches you slowly. The way he walks, and the way he looks at you, it sends a tingle down your spine. He is handsome, very handsome, but scary. He bends down close to you and studies you, he smells like cigar smoke and whiskey and leather. It’s rather pleasant.

“He brought her as payment. What do you think boss?” the omnic biker explained. 

“Really? Well, we don’t sell people. We sell drugs and weapons,” he said. He turns towards your ex and watches him.

“I know that, McCree. But, she can be of use to you,” your ex said.

“Yeah? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You tell him your name quietly. He nods and puts out his cigar.

“My names McCree, but you, sweetheart, can call me Jesse. That sound alright?”

“I… I guess? I would prefer we not get too… personal.”

He laughs, actually laughs and nods his head. “Fair point. So, what can you do darlin?”

“I can scramble an egg and make chicken noodle soup. I know how to fix socks with holes in them and patch up a jacket,” you said.

“That all?”

You shrug.

“You know how to shoot a gun or know any mechanics?”

“I can change my tire.”

McCree, or Jesse, doesn’t look impressed with your skills. He turns back to your ex, who is looking more and more nervous. “Well, she ain’t much use to me or my gang. You still owe me a lot of money.”

“Well, why don’t you and your men take your frustrations out on her? You know, she’s tight as fuck and gives great blow jobs,” your ex said.

Your face gets hot and you're embarrassed. Embarrassed and terrified. You knew this was a possibility, but to hear your ex suggest that these men rape you, it's almost too much.

“You son of a bitch,” you yelled. 

McCree turns to you in shock and all the other bikers look amused, whether it was from your supposed blowjobs skills or what you said, you don’t know. But you’re angry, so fucking angry, and mortified.

“Wow, you really pissed her off,” McCree said. The man looks both amused and slightly embarrassed about the entire situation.

“I fucking hope, before these guys rape me, that they kill you. I fucking hope they kill and I get to watch and they leave your ass for the fucking birds,” you spat. 

“Watch your mouth, you stupid cunt. When these men are done with you, no one will want you. You’re just be nothing but a bunch of holes to them,” your ex yelled.

You glare at the man, tears of anger and fear well up in your eyes. “Yeah? Well, maybe one of them will make me fucking cum for once!”

Some of the biker’s snort at your comment, while others look embarrassed. One is even shaking his head at your ex. Your ex’s mouth falls open and he looks insulted. The shock on his face vanishes and he takes a step towards you, but McCree stops him.

“Enough!” McCree yelled. Your ex shuts his mouth and takes a step back. You jump and look down; tears run down your cheek and you do your best to hold in your sobs.

“Easy now darlin, these men and I ain’t gonna rape you. I don’t tolerate any rape of any kind. But, would you like him to die?” McCree asked. He is squatting in front of your now, a surprisingly gentle and sweet look on his face.

“Yes, he’s an asshole. When I finally think he’s going to leave me alone, he knocks me unconscious, steals my car, kidnaps me and tries to sell me to you. No offense, you seem like a great guy and you’re pretty handsome, but I’m not really happy about this entire situation. I just want to go home."

McCree nods his head and motions to someone behind you. The binding around your wrists is cut. Whatever was wrapped around your wrists was sharp enough that it broke the skin. Despite the burning pain and dried blood, it’s nice to have your arms free.

“Stand up darlin,” McCree said. He gives you his hand and helps you stand up. He is much taller than you, and being this close to him gave you the chills. He examines your wrists and makes a tsk at the marks on your skin. His hands are rough and strong, you can see the way the muscle beneath his skin flex.

“Are you going to kill him?” you asked softly.

“I’m thinking about it. Mainly because he got you involved in this. You’re such a cute little thing, I am tempted to keep you around just to look at that cute face of yours,” he said softly. McCree grasps your chin and looks in your eyes. You gasp at his touch.

“McCree, what should we do with him?” one of the bikers asked.

“Hm? Oh, take him outback. I’m gonna take this little lady somewhere safe. Come on darlin, don’t pay no mind to him. He ain’t gonna bother you anytime soon. Keep him tied up until I get back, got it?” McCree said. A few of his men nod and move in on your ex. You hear him shouting and begging to be let go. He calls you a bitch, but the sound of a fist hitting skin echoes throughout the warehouse, followed by him crying.

McCree escorts you outside to your car. The few bikers outside greet McCree and nod to you, but they don’t say much. McCree helps you into the passenger seat of your car, then he gets into the driver side.

You watch him closely, unsure of what to say or do. He turns to you and gives you a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I might be a bad man, but I won’t hurt you. Now, where do you want me to drop you off at?”

You think about giving him a general area, that way he won’t know where you live exactly. But you’re so tired, and thinking of driving home yourself, even if it’s a few blocks, sounds like torture.

“My house.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Course, darlin.”

You give McCree your address and he starts driving. You’re asleep as soon as he gets on the main road.

You wake to someone shaking you and saying your name. Jesse is parked in front of your house; your car is still running.

“Sweetheart, this your house?” Jesse asked.

You nod and rub your eyes. Jesse turns off your car and gets out. As you’re slowly waking up, and struggling to remember how to undo your seat belt, Jesse opens the door for you. He offers you his hand and helps you out of the car.

He follows you up to your front door but keeps a comfortable distance away from you. When you turn to him, he gives you a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Jesse.”

He shrugs. “Not a problem, sweetheart. You didn’t seem ok to drive.”

“Not… not just for driving me home. I mean for… for everything. I… I thought I was going to die tonight, or worse.”

Jesse nods and takes a small step forward. “I understand.”

“Do you? Do you understand? Do you know what it's like to be told that you’re going to be sold off to a gang, to be used as they see fit? To have someone, someone you once cared about, tell you that a group of men is going to rape you? To hurt you?”

Jesse swallows and looks down. The brim of his hat hides his face. “Not that exact fear, but I do know how scary the gang can be. I was… I was raised in it, you know? But as scary as we are and can be, all the hell we raise, rape and human trafficking isn’t something we do. You don’t need to fear that.”

You say nothing. Jesse looks you up at you, then he quickly looks back down. He looks embarrassed and slightly ashamed.

“Head inside, sugar. You need your rest.”

You look past him and towards the street. You’re not sure why, but you wonder how he’s going to get home. Is he going to walk? Does he live in town?

“How… how are you going to get home?”

“I’ll call someone to pick me up.”

That bothers you. Not only will he be standing out here in the middle of the night waiting for someone to pick him up, but more of his gang will know where you live. It’s bad enough that he knows, but Jesse doesn’t seem so bad. He hasn’t done anything to scare you, not like your ex.

“Why don’t you come inside for a bit? There’s a nasty biker gang that hangs out around here.”

Jesse’s eyes go wide, then he laughs. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his face relaxes. He doesn’t look so intimidating or scary anymore. It’s sweet, and you want to see him smiling more.

“That there is, darlin. But are you sure you don’t mind having one of the biker gang leaders in your house?”

You laugh. “Well, when you say it like that, maybe I should leave you out here.”

Jesse pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

“I can drop you off somewhere tomorrow morning. That way no one has to drive all the way out here and you can rest. Plus, I'm not really sure if I want more of you bikers to know where I live.”

Jesse nods in understanding.

You unlock your door and turn back to Jesse. He's watching you, a slightly worried look on his face. He looks apprehensive about entering your house. For a moment, you think he’s going to turn around and leave, but he stays put. You motion for him to come inside. He takes off his hat and walks pass you, the heels of his boots echo along your wood floor.

With a heavy breath, you shut your front door and lock it. You question why you did this, why you just let a criminal into your house. But seeing Jesse, looking unsure and nervous himself, standing in your living room, you don’t feel so scared. And when he gives you a shy, boyish smile, all your worries are swept away.

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #deadlock jesse #overwatch

[dhiatzs]

Someone probably already thought of this, but...

Something has been bugging me since I’ve finished season 1 of Umbrella Academy and went to see the content of the fandom. This might take long to explain, but well, I’ll go ahead.

The thing is. I love Klaus Hargreeves. I freaking adore this dork. He’s so funny and fascinating, he has sick lines, and his character development rules. I’d protect him with my life. Like I already mentioned, even before I knew the show, I saw drawings and screenshots of him on my dashes and I knew I was going to fall in love with the character.

But as far as I adore him, I know he has flaws. I can see how bad it must be to deal with a drug addict like him. Actually, while the Hargreeves kids were growing up, I can perfectly imagine him stealing money, disappearing, lying to his brothers and sisters, being disrespectful, needing attention and avoiding it at the same time. We see Allison and Luther knowing that he was going to steal, in episode one. And for all we see, everyone is used to what he’s doing because of his addiction. I can imagine them actually trying to help him when they were younger, and trying to reason him, but him being an addict, these attempts remaining useless and unsuccessful. 

And if they were in a loving family, yeah, maybe it wouldn’t have made really sense that they don’t try harder to help him getting rid of his addiction. But they were in an unhealthy home, with an abusive father. So they grew up and parted ways, they all had their own lives and struggles, they all learnt to manage alone, Klaus included, as adults. More or less.

Except for one person. Luther. Luther stayed near his father and did what Reginald wanted him to do. Luther did this because he thought it would be for the greater good. He trusted his father, because even though he was a cold and distant old man, he had faith in him and in his words. He had hopes in his father where everyone else had let go since a long time. And you know what? He was wrong. He followed the wrong person. And he was probably doing it for not-so-heroic purposes, because he was the Number One and thought it was his duty, he probably fulfilled all of this because of pride. But the thing is. It’s how he has been raised. He wasn’t aware of his father abusing Klaus and Vanya when they were younger, but when he was given against his will a monstrous body he hated and felt extremely bad about, he didn’t stop following his father’s orders. Maybe it would have been different if he went through similar things that Klaus and Vanya had to live.

But in any case, when he learns his father lied to him and didn’t care whatsoever for him and the mission he spent literal years of his life focusing on, when he learns that despite being Number One, what he thought was an important duty he was accomplishing for everyone was just some useless purpose, yes, his world falls apart. Yes, he starts being unthinking, uncompassionate. He lost the hope he had, the thing that was giving him steadiness and mostly the thing he grew up on. His siblings saw through their father, they never had hope in him and let go a while ago. Not Luther.

Klaus got kidnapped and tortured, went through war, met someone there he felt in love with and saw him die in front of him. He suffered. He did. And it was an awful thing for him, and for us to watch it. Why didn’t his family wonder where he went, when he’d been kidnapped and was being tortured? Why didn’t they ask themselves that? Where their brother, a junkie, always going here and there, who went to jail and probably loads of times on rehab, where this brother they haven’t seen in years went? Why would they have wondered?

Sure, when we know what happened to him, as viewers of a show, it’s horrible and we wish we could just go into this screen and help this man and protect him. But he didn’t expect his siblings to look for him. He says that himself to Cha-cha and Hazel. Because when he was addict, during these years of being apart from his family, he was alone. He managed. He dealt with himself and his addiction. It’s his life. His struggle. Not theirs. And this time? Well of course he needed the help of a distraction to escape, but he managed again, didn’t he? And he went through war. If anything, I find it kinda... good for the character. He relies on drugs, yes, but not on his siblings. He can take care of himself. Sure, I want him to be taken care of and cared for, but if anything, I’d more gladly watch it being a relationship his siblings and him decided to share rather than an emotional dependency. For now, it didn’t happen, but maybe he’ll hug his siblings, in season 2, maybe he will be able to talk about his problems and being listened to? We’ll see.

Luther, on the other hand, had an emotional dependency to his father. And after this link broke, he saw Allison, the person he loves and cares for the most, almost die because of Vanya. Now, guys, just be aware. I love Vanya. I love every single member of the Hargreeves family (except Reginald he’s trash) equally (almost equally (I mean, Klaus ffs)). But going through facts, even if I don’t approve at all the idea of making Vanya relive her childhood trauma, I can’t... blame Luther for that moment he locked her up. He lose trust in his father and in Pogo not so long ago, and Vanya did hurt Allison, even if it wasn’t on purpose. He couldn’t know what was going to happen. He couldn’t trust the people he’s been relying to for years anymore. So, Vanya? Of course he wasn’t going to listen to her and rather was going to put Allison in safety. 

This post is very long, but I wanted to publish it, even if no one reads it, because I needed to make this point. No one is to blame. Everyone follows a path that leads to decisions, character growth, issues and development, all different and having different causes. I’m not saying you should like Luther, or that you shouldn't not like him (if that makes sense). Anyone can love the character they want, obviously, I’ll never think otherwise. But you can’t compare Klaus’ struggles with Luther’s ones. Not in a serious tone, I mean.

I just want people to think of this. You don’t have to like Luther at all. It’s fair that you don’t like him, he’s not the most lovable character ever. But I’m tired of seeing essentially hatred for him.

#long post #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #the umbrella academy spoilers #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #cw drugs #tw drugs #tw addiction #luther protection squad #number one #number four #number three #number seven

[norahjakobs]

Earth 33: Outlaws - Jason Todd

Earth 33 is my attempt at rewriting the dc universe. I’m doing this entirely for my own entertainment and as such will be writing what appeals to me. I’m starting this au off with the members of the outlaws, almost all of whom never canonly have been members.

So without farther ado, here’s Jason (This is a long one)

(TW: Death, Drugs, Overdosing, Crime, Vague Allusions to Rape)

Jason Peter Todd was born to Willis and Catherine Todd in a backstreet in Crime Alley. His father a small time crook and his mother drug addicted and unable to take care of him, he was basically left alone emotionally other than the few times Willis made time for his little prince of Gotham. Such as when he pickpocketed two tickets for a flying grayson show.

Willis got arrested on charges of drug use, theft, and grand theft auto. Reportedly he died in a prison riot started by some of Harvey Dents goons. Jason was 8 when this happened and it affected him greatly, he locked himself in his room in the Todd familys beat up tiny apartment for three days till he realized his mother hadn’t gone shopping or even begun to try and hustle any money for bills. He knew then that he’d be taking care of his mother till the day she overdosed like how the neighbors kept saying she would. Pick pocketing and theft became his new way of life but it was beyond stressful for a child of his age, and he was beat up several times by both gang members and police officers who caught him stealing.

He was 10 when his mother died from an overdose, it had been a long day and he was just happy to be able to bring some noodles and dollar store tomato paste home. But as he entered his home of ten years it smelled like how the alleys he always rushed through instead of walking smelled. He set the bags down at the door and rushed to the source of the scent. He got into the cramped kitchen and found his mother, dead. He went into his room and with a vacant expression on his face packed anything he had of value, he knew he couldn’t call 911, the phone service to the house had been cut three months ago, and besides there was no money to give his poor mother a proper burial.

He lived on the streets for the next two years and those two years taught him the way of the street, the distrust, the scrappy fighting that came when you hadn’t ate in three days, the value of a warm meal. Late one night he saw a chance that didn’t come by everyday, the batmobile, unguarded in an alleyway. He could only imagine how much the tires on it would fetch, so yeah he tried to jack the tires off the batmoblie. He was caught by Batman, who took him to get some food and talked with him. He was dropped off at a Wayne funded shelter.

And the next morning something bizarre happened, the people at the shelter let Jason know that there was someone interested in taking him in. He was hesitant at first but agreed to meet this person. A little later Bruce Wayne came in and chatted with Jason who was at first dismissive of the man but warmed up during the conversation, especially when Bruce shared about how he lost his parents when he was around 10. Jason agreed to try out living with him.

He liked it alot to say the least. He ran around the manor stuffing his face full of junk food almost constantly when he first got there till Alfred stepped in, just for his healths stake as a tumble down the long stairs or getting stick off of eating too much wouldn’t be all that fun for the kid. Jason wanted to stay and so stay he would.

Bruce put graves for Jason’s parents in the Wayne family graveyard next to Dick’s parents. Jason was put at ease by finally being able to put them to rest, including his mom’s body that was tracked down in GCP’s system as a yet to be identified body, his father’s body however had not yet been found.

Something that Bruce hadn't accounted for was the fact that Jason was a troubled sleeper, everything else he was doing perfectly with adjusting too, he was doing amazing at school, his checkup only indicated that they might want to give him some multivitamin gummies. But he just couldn’t get to sleep, he was too nervous too, and when he wasn’t too nervous he was too full of energy and trying to use it up doing something. So it was inevitable that he noticed how often Bruce was out at night and how at times he couldn’t find Alfred anywhere.

So when Bruce and Alfred were busy at some glala that didn’t let children in (Side note to myself, write younger Jason at one of these glalas) Jason poked his nose around the house looking for anything hidden. And while pulling books off the shelf in the study he tripped on the carpet and knocked a bust on the desk over, revealing a button. He did what you do when you find a button and he pressed it revealing a firemen pole, which he went down.

He ran around the cave unattended for an hour and when Bruce and Alfred has finally managed to get back home he had managed to put on one of Dick’s old robin costumes and was trying to figure out how to turn on the batmobile. Bruce sat him down and explained everything, and once he was done Jason asked if he could be Robin, and pointed out all his selling points like that his grades were good, he was good at running, he could throw a punch.

Bruce agreed to let him become Robin after a few months of training. Jason would remember his first night as Robin as one of the best of his life, only second to being adopted. His first night they dealt with a few purse snatchers, a mugging, and the crown of the night was a heist being pulled off by The Riddler at an art museum.

He met his brother Dick he and Bruce went to Bludhaven for a weekend due to Wayne Enterprises related business. The three of them met up for lunch on the Saturday and Jason and Dick got along greatly and poked fun at Bruce throughout the whole meal. On Sunday it turned out a mob had made the billanet plan to kidnap Bruce Wayne and hold him for ransom. Nightwing and Robin teamed up to save him and by the end of the adventure Dick gave Jason his phone number and told him to call whenever he’d like.

He was pretty friendless though, at school he was focused on the work and there wasn’t any sidekicks around his age running around Gotham. So Bruce organized the sidekick equivalent of a playdate with Blue Devils on again off again sidekick Kid Devil, also known as Eddie Bloomberg. The two were only supposed to taking down Polka-Dot Man who was planning a robbery. But when they returned to where Batman and Blue Devil were supposed to be figuring out a case with Zatanna at her hotel all they found were scorch marks and a very confused Zachary Zatara who had been in the hotel dining room before hearing a bunch of yelling and coming to investigate.

The events that followed were both chaotic and too long to list here. But for more details you can read here!

A couple years later he had hit the age of 15 and was overall, happy. He had a brother who loved him and checked in on him, he had a penpal who understood the stress of being a sidekick. But he also had lingering problems, anger over the treatment he got as a child and the treatment he saw others get, an empty feeling left by his parents. And what really brought out these feelings was a man by the name of Felipe Garzonas, someone that represented everything he hated. A person who abused his privilege to take advantage of those less fortunate, and then got off thanks to that privilege. Batman and Robin got him arrested but he got out the same day thanks to diplomatic immunity. And the man’s victim, overcome with terror took her own life. So when Jason was left alone with the man on a balcony it didn’t come as a surprise that he didn’t help when Felipe was falling to his death. Though the question of if he was pushed or slipped would never be answered.

Jason’s mental health took a dip due to what had happened and the fact that Bruce was avoiding him, and he called Dick who was having problems of his own at the time. But agreed to take Jason on a teen titan mission or two while his mind lingered on what had happened in Gotham and wandered to his family. But his mind got taken off that by meeting the titans and helping with one of the many smaller problems they had.

But when he got back he couldn’t get his mind off his past, so in an attempt to bring himself more closure on the topic he started looking for his father’s body. But meanwhile The Joker pieced together that one of his goons, was Robin’s father and so a plan was formed. Jason figured out that his father wasn’t dead but had gotten away the day of the riot and was working for The Joker who was planning something off in the alps. And due to the avoidance Bruce was showing to Jason, Jason decided to go out on his own. And we all know how that goes. His body, alongside his father’s was found in the wreckage of the blown up building.

He was laid to rest next to the graves for his parents and finally for the first time in years they were all together. But nothing lasts and Taila Al Ghul, in a bid to have something to use against Bruce in case he found out about Damian prematurely. So she sent one of her other pet projects, Twilight, or better known is Slade Wilson’s missing son Grant Wilson.

When he came out of the Lazarus Pit he was confused and tried to flee and there was some trouble stopping him till Taila tranquilized him. It turned out he had no memory of his life than his own name and the fact he died. He was respective to The League Of Shadows training, he still had the muscle memory from being Robin and was in a mental state that was easy to manipulate. He took to hanging around Grant as he reminded Jason of someone in a couple ways and Grant’s inner big brother came out around Jason.

By years end, Jason had fully integrated with The League and was sent on his first mission. When he had came back from it he had been sobbing but the deed was done. Taila talked with him about what had happened and tried to help him desensitize to the issue, she had grown to care about him and it hurt her to see him like this. After this incident his memories started to return, sparked by the familiar feeling caused by what he had done and the subconscious fear of being ignored again because of it.

He shared what he was remembering with Grant and that only helped to fuel the flame of rage in him. He wasn’t mad that Bruce couldn’t save him, he was angry that Bruce let there be chance the same would happen to another kid by letting The Joker live. He made a plan to try and make Bruce understand and set out on his way. Taila feared for him but did offer the original funds he needed for the plan.

He had his 17th birthday right as he was taking over Gotham’s underground as The Red Hood. It was a quick and hostile take over where he intimidated those he could, and killed those he couldn’t. News of The Red Hood found it’s way to Bruce quickly who was working alone at the time due to Tim being with Young Justice at the time. The drug lords were scared and one even agreed to meet with Batman but before they could give out much information they were shoot sparking a chase through the city where Batman failed to catch Red Hood.

He tracked down The Joker and kidnapped him and while waiting for Batman to arrive did all the things that Joker did to Jason in that warehouse so long ago. When Batman did arrive it became a tense confrontation where Jason revealed himself and demanded to know why the clown still breathed. Bruce answered the way he always did, saying they could not be the judge, jury, and executioner. He ended up forcing Bruce to make a choice, either kill The Joker himself or Jason would do it. Bruce instead threw a batarang at Jason, cutting the side of his neck and then The Joker detonated explosives that had been in the building.

He survived and fled Gotham. He decided to go meet his replacement Tim, he broke into the Young Justice base and kidnapped Robin not wanting to also take on a half kryptonian, speedster, and a demigod. The two fought and Jason mocked his replacement but he wasn’t trying to kill Tim. And when things were looking dicey for Tim, Jason nerve pinched him and left.

He then went off to Bludhaven to bother Dick. Who at the time was dealing with the Court Of Owls and the fact they were stalking him and trying to kidnap him. So when Jason was following him and saw some other shady character was following his brother he started a fight with them. Nightwing very quickly joined the fray between Red Hood and Talon and the two scared them off. Their chat afterwards was awkward to say the least, but weirdly friendly since Jason had just helped Dick and Dick caught on to the fact that Jason had been trained by The League of Shadows.

Dick made an effort to help Jason who he had figured out had been brainwashed during his time with The League of Shadows. And some progress was made. But when they went to Gotham so Jason could try to have a normal-ish conversation with Bruce, it blew up in his face when they had gotten talking about Taila and Jason let it slip that Taila had a son that she said was Bruce’s. Bruce, with no where to direct his feelings on the matter, got cross with Jason for not telling him sooner and the two started arguing. It ended when Jason pulled a gun on Bruce and Dick knocked him out with some sleeping gas.

Jason spent a month in Arkham and was beyond angry, he was angry at Bruce for taking out his complicated emotions on him and he was mad at Dick fortaking Bruces side. He had been admitted under an assumed name as a non criminal resident so he was being kept away from where the violent offenders were. Which was for the best, if he had been anywhere near The Joker it wouldn’t have been pretty. He got out when Tim bribed Arkham to let him out. Jason thanked his younger brother and asked about why he did that and Tim explained that the reason Jason was in there wasn’t fair, and besides he was mad at Bruce as Damian just showed up and stole the Robin name. Jason offered to get Tim a drink but he rejected pointing out the were both underage.

It wasn’t long after that he turned 18. He was headed out of a gas station with the first legal box cigarettes he had ever bought that he got a call from Dick asking him to come to the cave, it was important. So he did, everyone did. And it was a grim affair as Bruce had died. Jason didn’t handle his grief well and left the cave before he could hear the message that was left for him. He left Gotham city as well, both because he needed some space from the situation and because he knew that there was about to be a fight over who would wear the cowl.

He went to LA and met up with an old friend, Eddie Bloomberg who was acting as part time tech support for the Teen Titans. The two had a happy, tearful reunion. Jason, who was crashing on Eddie’s couch for the moment continued his work as Red Hood but it was mellowed out. There was a combination of reasons for this, Dick’s support (even though it had been withdrawn), not wanting Bruce’s ghost judging him, and trying to get in a better mental space and not throw away the chance he had.

After Bruce had came back Jason went back to Gotham, and they hashed things out, by no means were they on the same page, they probably never would be again. But Bruce was willing to offer Jason a place in the batfamily as long as he agreed not to kill anyone, and Jason was willing to agree.

Jason and Stephanie got to know each other pretty well since they were given the chance finally. And they got along greatly. It was a nightmare for Bruce however as he had snark coming left and right. Jason also got to know Cass better and they had a couple things to relate on. And for the first time in three years he was finding happiness in his family life.

But again, nothing lasts for forever. Jason late one night while on patrol noticed someone had broken into the penthouse of a well respected lawyer. And he found Twilight was the intruder and it was no mistake that he caught him. The League wanted him back and weren’t willing to take no for an answer, and Grant felt it was personal. So the ensuing argument was intense and by the end the fight had found it’s way onto the top of Wayne tower where Grant misstepped and fell to his seeming death, and worse batman had seen the end of the fight and given prior events including falling to death and Jason Bruce didn’t trust that it was an accident and banished Jason from the city till things were more clear.

Out on his own yet again he decided to form a team and work on the move, no superhero wants the murdery batfamily member in their city for long. So he got on his bike and he went back to LA.

#jason todd #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #taila al ghul #dc #eddie bloomberg #my writing #earth 33

[mittensmorgul]

I thought there were three Large Meta Posts I wanted to make about 14.17, but the more I try to focus on any one of them, to sort out exactly what I want to say on each topic, the more I’m realizing that they’re not three separate topics, and this is giving me fits...

1) Jack, and what everyone has known and/or suspected and/or been concerned about regarding his soullessness and his newly regained powers

2) blame vs guilt vs responsibility for all of TFW

3) the parallels and observations of the two “outsider” characters of the week-- Anael’s observations and assumptions about Cas and her certainty that Jack’s soul is completely gone, and Nick’s assumptions about Dean and how he felt about his possession by Michael (because obviously one is a BLATANTLY wrong assumption, and the other is merely... kinda shady...)

I’m also curious as to how Nick even KNEW how to contact Lucifer in the Empty. Last we saw, his desperate prayer awakened Lucifer, but where did Nick learn what he needed to do regarding the angel grace and Donatello, the ritual he needed to perform to even make that phone call to Lucifer for instructions on how to free him? Did he get that from those demons? I mean, if the demons had that info all along and were as desperate to get Lucifer back as Nick was, why didn’t one of them collect that grace and do what Nick did in the first place? Did it only work for him because of that “open phone line” to their former vessel that we learned about way back in 5.03? Is that something that Nick just had lying around in his memory bank from when he was Lucifer’s vessel? Or was his awareness of this stuff tangentially related to how Crowley tinkered with his vessel in order to make him Lucifer’s permanent vessel back during s12?

And I’ve read some assumptions about what Anael’s connection to this all might be, because how COULD she know for sure that Jack’s soul really was all gone? Which brings me to the first part of point 3 above... Yes, it could be that Nick and/or one of his demon buddies contacted her and made a deal for the little bit of grace they used in that spell, but we also know there’s shady characters like Sergei from 14.07 who deal in that sort of thing. A LOT of angels fell back in the day, and we know when they do their grace sort of... crash lands on Earth (like Anna’s magical grace tree from 4.10). For someone who knows where to look, there’s probably all sorts of shady things stashed around the world, you know? So I’m not ready to say that Anael is in league with Lucifer in this yet. I think she’s smarter than wanting to bring him back, for thinking that he’d be any different than he’d been the last time she’d dealt with him. She is, after all, a good businesswoman.

But that brings me to her assumptions about Jack, and about Castiel, and about God himself. She’s lost faith in Heaven’s mission, in God himself, and has decided that without that connection to God, everyone is all alone. So she does what she can to change things, to help people. Yeah, she does it for money, but she also does it because it helps people. It’s how she connects to the world, her radical choice to do what she can to make life a little better for at least some of humanity. That’s the mission she’d believed in.

And yet, because of that work, she’s spent a LOT of time really looking at humanity, really looking at what people do and the reasons they do them. Not only is she a good businesswoman, she’s also good at reading people, seeing through their BS. I mean, like the other famous faith healer in the series-- Roy LeGrange-- who described how he chooses people to heal: he looks into their heart, which in another manner of speaking, is just a cold read of someone the way Melanie in 7.07 did:

MELANIE: I'm off the clock. Also not psychic. What? It's an honest living. DEAN: Interesting definition of "honest." MELANIE: Well, I honestly read people. It's just less whoo-whoo, more body language. Like you two – long-time partners, but, um... a lot of tension. [Gestures to SAM.] You're pissed. [Gestures to DEAN.] And you're stressed. It's not brain surgery.

Well, Anael might think she’s got Cas figured out, but considering her entire foundation for that assumption is skewed because of her own personal assumptions about God and Cas’s reasons for leaving Heaven, and his drastically different lens for the human experience than Anael has made it impossible for her to clearly see and understand his entire situation makes me doubt her proclamations about Jack.

I mean, to go off down a minor tangent here, this is where Michael’s statements about God having abandoned the universe as a “failure” are good to remember. I mean, we KNOW the circumstances under which Chuck left this universe in Dean’s hands in 11.23, you know? We KNOW why Chuck doesn’t “meddle” in the universe, and leaves it to the inhabitants to sort out. I have already written this essay back when 14.10 aired, but to sum it up as briefly as I can... it’s the difference between the inflexible mindset Michael adopted regarding what HE believed would be his “reward” for completing Chuck’s prophecy and bringing about the Apocalypse. To his eternal disappointment, that reward never came. Because Michael failed to learn the lesson God had actually set for him: watch over the world, watch over humanity, and understand.

Since Cas is literally the ONLY angel Chuck has ever brought back (multiple times even!) and he’s the ONLY angel who’s actually learned something about humanity and free will, not just through observation but gradually adopting it as his own, it tends to follow that Cas is the ONLY angel who actually got this point. Chuck set the challenge, and Michael was too dumb to do anything other than activating his Universe Failure Self-Destruct Button. Faith vs Free Will... he lost that bet.

Dean, and all of TFW, WON. They got the reward. Unfortunately Lucifer was still left dangling out there to stir up new troubles, because HE, like Michael, failed to get the lesson. Instead of understanding that this wide open universe full of potential had been the reward, Michael and Lucifer both expected Chuck to stick around to continue parenting them. And that was never the deal.

Anael is kind of in the same position, except she understands that she has choices in what she does next. She chooses to do good with what power she has (yeah, even if she charges people for her services-- $300 is still a STEAL for a complete cure for what ails you, you know?). But unlike Cas, she does what she does for HERSELF. And as Cas pointed out, her “happiness” sounds very lonely. Anael can’t even disagree, but assumes without without God, everyone is lonely. As if God was the only connection of any import in the universe. As if God’s intent hadn’t been for all of us to love one another as we have loved him. I mean... That’s kinda... the whole point of existence.

And Cas HAS that (or, well, when things aren’t all going to heck in a handbasket, he has that) with his chosen family. Obviously Cas is still on his journey to understand his true place within that family, and we know the entire Winchester Family Bus is about to hit a landmine. But Anael employed a lot of her strategic cold reading skills on Cas.

She DIDN’T, she COULDN’T know for sure that Jack’s soul is completely gone, but what else could power Cas’s desperation to contact God-- aka the only being that can restore a soul-- if he wasn’t at least afraid of that being true. I mean, I don’t think Anael’s statements she presented as facts were actually based on cold, hard fact. Because of how she framed her knowledge of Joshua’s “long distance call” to Chuck after the fall. She just wanted those earrings... When Cas collected the earrings from the table in the Waffelette, she made a strategic play to earn herself those earrings:

[Cas reaches over to collect the earrings and Anael reconsiders] ANAEL: But… there was a rumor. A whisper, after the Fall. Joshua placed a long-distance call, and God picked up. CASTIEL: Okay. How? ANAEL: I don't know. I wasn't there. But I know someone who was, and I can take you to them.

And then after searching Methuselah’s shop, we learn the actual truth-- not just the rumor that Anael had believed before:

CASTIEL (picking up an amulet similar to the one Dean used to wear): No. The one I know, it-- it glows in the presence of-- of God. This is what we're looking for. METHUSELAH: Good eye. Joshua forged it after he Fell. ANAEL: That thing talks to God? METHUSELAH: Only one way to find out. CASTIEL (clutching the amulet): God… I don't know where you are. I don't know if you can hear me. But please. Sam, Dean-- we need you. Please. METHUSELAH: Yeah, it never worked for Joshua, either.

IT NEVER WORKED FOR JOSHUA, EITHER. I mean... Anael had presented it as if it had, you know? So she’s perfectly comfortable working on assumptions-- just like the assumption that God doesn’t care about them or else he’d “meddle.”

To address the other half of point 3 in my original list at the top of this essay, there’s Nick’s assumptions about Dean. I think Nick actually believed that Dean had the same sort of deluded “connection” with Michael that Nick thought he had with Lucifer. That Dean was as power-hungry to play host to an archangel as he had been, and that his life had lost all other meaning without that self-important connection.

NICK: I get you, Dean. You and me, we're almost like brothers, you know. Michael, you, Lucifer, me-- we both know what it's like to be hog-tied to a nuclear warhead, man. DEAN: Mm. [Dean punches Nick again] Cut the crap. Where is he? NICK: You're never the same after something like that, are ya? Being one with one of them. It changes you. Makes you more than human. Come on, Dean, admit it. With Michael, you were a prince. Now you're just a broken Hunter.

Because we know Nick rejected everything about his old life, like a drug addict looking for that high again. He liked the feeling of power that we know Dean hated. Just like Jimmy Novak hated being “chained to a comet,” and yet chose it to save his daughter from that fate. Nick rejected his family for the chance to experience it again. It made him feel special, more important than everyone else, to have been “chosen.” And just... ewwww.

Nick was merely the Worst Version of Jeffrey in 7.15, who became the murderer in hopes of reuniting with “his demon.” And in the end, his demon rejected him, because Jeffrey had only been one of a string of victims that demon had used to create mayhem and twist souls toward Hell. I mean, Jeffrey had been disposable to the demon, just like Lucifer didn’t really care about Nick. Like he didn’t really care about Azazel or Lilith or any of his other loyal demons. He just wanted back in this world.

But Nick couldn’t see that Dean in no way felt the same about Michael. Dean doesn’t lust for power at any cost. He only wanted to be free of that.

Nick also made a similar wrong assumption about Sam, in their fight when he threw this line at Sam as if it was a taunt:

NICK: Lucifer's perfect vessel. Not so perfect now, are ya?

That line didn’t have anything to do with Sam, who has rejected Lucifer over and over again since his original possession and time in the cage. I mean 11.10 had Sam reject him again. To his face. Even if it meant the Darkness would swallow the universe. Sam would NOT play vessel to Lucifer again. So what Nick considered a taunt, to Sam it probably came off more like a compliment. Why yes, thank you, I’ve grown a lot since I believed the only role I could play was as Angel Condom to save the world. And that.. was NEVER a fate Sam had wanted. He’s been TRAUMATIZED because of his experiences, unlike Nick who seems to revel in his.

So assumptions are not working out well for characters in this episode... :P

But that also leads us into the other two items on my original list up there. All season long, everyone’s been concerned about Jack-- first as a function of his gracelessness and how he sickened and died because of that, and now as a function of his soullessness and how his stolen grace has been malfunctioning because of that. We know from the preview for 14.18 that Cas is going to finally come clean about what he saw in 14.15, when Jack killed Felix the snake...

I think Dean’s reaction in the promo isn’t specifically directed at Cas. I mean, yeah, he says the thing to Cas, and he’s ANGRY about it, but I think this is more of a tipping point combined with a convenient target than it is about him truly believing that the entirety of the blame actually falls on Cas. I mean, Dean has been single-handedly blaming himself for everything having to do with Michael all season long.

If only he’d locked himself in the Ma’lak box and tossed himself in the ocean before Michael escaped and Jack was forced to burn up his own soul to destroy Michael! If only Dean had been stronger and kept Michael locked up in his brain! If only he’d known better than to play directly into Michael’s trap in 14.09! If only he’d never said yes to Michael in the first place! If only he’d been stronger when Michael took him over the first time! WOE IS DEAN!

But also, Jack has been similarly blaming himself for everything... if only he hadn’t been so stupid and believed Lucifer back in 13.23, and had his grace stolen. If only he’d killed Michael and Lucifer when he’d had the chance back then, none of this would’ve happened. The AU hunters would still be alive, Michael wouldn’t have used all the monsters to wreak havoc, Dean wouldn’t have had to say yes to Michael to fix his mistake and kill Lucifer...

But Sam has also been blaming himself, for not having been able to find a way to save Dean from Michael, for not being able to save the AU hunters, for not being able to help Jack...

And Cas? Yeah, Cas has been unwilling to “burden” Sam and Dean with some of the terrible choices he’s made on their behalf and on Jack’s behalf, because there were so many other terrible things going on that were more immediate if not more important...

So the fact that they all have been indulging in a lot of SELF blame, it’s kind of interesting that this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Dean.

It’s not as if Dean himself hasn’t suspected that there was something seriously wrong with Jack. I mean, why else take him to Donatello’s to talk with someone else who might understand Jack’s current plight? Why else would Dean “test” Jack with the stupid cake choice? I mean, we’d already seen some worrying behavior out of Jack leading up to that, in 14.14 and his insistence that he was fine when *we* knew that he was not fine. But Cas seemed to notice Jack’s deteriorating state, and so did Dean. They just had no idea what to do about it.

Donatello: I'd keep an eye on him, but I think if he seems okay, he probably is. Dean: So he's not like you? Donatello: Oh, no. I'm a Prophet of the Lord, but he -- Jack's probably the most powerful being in the universe. I mean, really, who knows what's going on inside his head?

In 14.15, here’s another little misunderstanding. Dean asks Donatello if Jack was “like you.” I believe Dean meant, “soulless,” but Donatello interpreted it as “power level,” or possibly, “essential nature.” And the entire assumption that Donatello left Dean with, the “if he seems okay, he probably is,” seems like TERRIBLE advice, considering Donatello had just advised Jack to essentially “fake it,” by acting the way the Winchesters would. From that point on, Jack did his best to wear a mask. He was intentionally disguising his issues and instead doing his best to “seem fine.”

We saw it a few times, through interesting camera angles. Most notably at the beginning of 14.17, in the kitchen with Mary, we saw Jack’s dead-eyed stare when Mary was warmly encouraging Jack to open up to her. Her concern for him was evident, but rather than feel comforted by that, Jack flat-out said he found it annoying. But we actually saw him compose his face into a mask of pleasantry before he turned to face her:

And how unsettling was that?

But Mary definitely suspected that something is seriously not right with Jack. Just as Dean suspected it in 14.15. Just as Sam and Dean both suspected it at the end of 14.16. They knew nothing of how Jack had killed the snake, though.

I don’t think Cas would’ve left without telling them if he believed Sam and Dean would’ve just... let Jack run errands in town, or left him on his own for a few days to go on a hunt, or left him alone with just Mary. After all, when Cas left, the Winchesters hadn’t left the bunker in weeks. He didn’t have any reason to assume that was all about to change in the few days he’d be gone to meet with Anael.

But as we all know, in times of crisis, when Dean is terrified or horrified or just angry... as he would be over Jack gone rogue and Mary MIA or even possibly dead (this remains to be seen, but I suspect we’ll find out soon enough...), this will also be a breaking point for Dean, where he just can’t take any more of the blame onto himself, and unfortunately for Cas, he’s the one on deck to take the next hit...

(hooray, baseball metaphor)

So while Jack has been actively deceiving everyone as to his status-- partly because I really don’t think he gets just how messed up he is, and why anyone is worried for his sake, but also because without his soul he’s resorting to the same sort of black-and-white value judgments he did when he was a newborn and therefore can’t really see how messed up he is-- everybody else around him has had their suspicions about him, but they have ALL been afraid to compare notes, so to speak.

Sure, Cas didn’t tell them that one thing he saw that freaked him out enough to go seek out God’s help behind their backs, but similarly, Mary didn’t speak up about Jack’s reactions to her, and Dean didn’t speak up about his unsettling road trip with Jack... heck, he didn’t even go inside to listen to Jack and Donatello’s conversation! He was so unsettled between the snake in the back seat of the Impala, and the fear that Donatello would confirm his worst fears about Jack and the state of his soul that he stood awkwardly next to the car for the duration. Dean blames Cas for not telling him about how unstable Jack was, when just two episodes ago Dean was actively avoiding dealing with just how unstable Jack was... so there’s definitely an element of guilt and self-blame on Dean’s behalf going on with the anger he’s directing at Cas in the promo... not to mention the fact that Dean still doesn’t know about what Cas personally sacrificed to save Jack’s soul in 14.08, and Cas’s denial and desperation for that sacrifice not to have been entirely in vain (and the further guilt, horror, and fear Dean will experience when he does finally learn that truth...)

THESE GUYS AND THEIR FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE WILL GET US EVERY TIME.

The light at the end of this tunnel, though, is that they always do eventually get on the same page again. Unfortunately for us, they’ve just noticed they’re about to head into the long, dark tunnel, and they’ve got a long walk dodging monsters before they get to that light...

I know there was more I wanted to say on all of this, but heck this has gone on long enough and I think I’ve purged enough of it from my brain that I at least unstuck myself from obsessing over it for today. :P

#spn s14 spoilers #spn 14.17 #spn 14.16 #spn 14.15 #spn 14.14 #spn 14.18 #spn 14.08 #spn 13.23 #spn 14.09 #spn 7.15 #spn 11.23 #spn 14.10 #spn 7.07 #spn 1.12 #spn 5.03 #it's spirals all the way down #the scheherazade of supernatural #using your words #lies and damn lies

[morganeuk]

Trapped between Madonna and the Solar System.

Chapter 4: Pressure point: John Watson (status to be clarified)

On Tumblr: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

John is still in a bit of a shock when Sherlock finally gets out of his bedroom, fully clothed in his usual 'I'm on my way to a GQ bloody photo-shoot'.

After a quick look in the direction of the doctor, why does that man smile like a confused fool?, he says, "So – it’s just a guess but you’ve probably got some questions."

"Yeaaaah, one or two, pretty much."

"Naturally."

Janine walks out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and exchanges a smile with Sherlock.

"You have a girlfriend?" First thing first.

"Yes, I have." You have a wife why shouldn’t I have a girlfriend? John put a bigger smile on his face. Sherlock usually doesn't second guess his decisions, but he almost regrets asking the man to tag along. What was his name? John? I should really ask for his full name.

"Now, Magnussen. Magnussen is like a shark – it’s the only way I can describe him. Have you ever been to the shark tank at the London Aquarium, John (yes! got it right. It's John!) – stood up close to the glass? Those floating flat faces, those dead eyes ... That’s what he is. I’ve dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen."

"Yes, you have."

"Sorry, what?"

"You have a girlfriend?" John adds, still completely bemused.

"What? Yes! Yes, I’m going out with Janine. I thought that was fairly obvious."

"Yes. Well ... yes. But I mean you, you, you ... are in a relationship? You and Janine?"

"Yes, I am. Me and Janine." Sherlock replies, more and more irritated.

"Care to elaborate?" John continues, still too amazed to realize the change in his friend's composure.

"Why is it so curious? Who are you to comment on my private life?"

John pauses and looks at his friend. It's kind of true that with all the women that he dates before The Fall, then Mary... I am in no position to ask questions. Maybe Sherlock was shy and this is why he hadn't brought any women to the flat when I was there? But... "I'm married to my work" and "Not my area". And why Janine among every other woman OR man available?

"It's just that... Janine? I'm surprised that Mary didn't talk to me about this as she is her friend that's all."

Ooooh, he knows Janine, this is why he's so curious and probably anxious. He took me from a drug den only a few hours ago, it's surely not a good sign for the boyfriend of a friend. Sherlock took a deep breath before adding.

"Well, we’re in a good place. Don't worry, I know in your point of view, especially as a doctor, I'm not the perfect companion for her but I won't let anything bad happen to Janine. Trust me. And as for the relationship, it’s, um ... very affirming."

"You got that from a book... It's been what? A few weeks?"

"Yes, I met her in a coffee place near her office. She cleverly found that the cashier was stealing money from the customers, 50p at the time, and I decided on the spur of the moment, romantic gesture to ask her to sit with me for a tea and pastries. She said that I was rude, that we've met before, she was quite cross that I didn't recall anything, in fact, she even tried to show me pictures! But quickly put that behind her as one of my ‘funny yet troubling quirks’ as she said and stopped nagging about it. We've been together since."

The nerve of the man, he danced and talked with her at the wedding! But it's not his business, it's her call if she chooses to go out with the git anyway. John put a smile on his face as Janine comes back into the room ready to go to work.

"Okay, you two bad boys, behave yourselves," Janine says as she sits on Sherlock's lap. "And you, Sherl, you’re goin' to have to tell me where you were last night."

"Working."

"Working. Of course. I’m the only one who really knows what you’re like, remember?"

"Don’t you go letting on." the man softly replies in her ear before caressing her face.

"I might just, actually." the young woman replies before turning her face toward John. "I haven’t told Mary about this. I kind of wanted to surprise her."

"Yeah, you probably will."

"But we should have you two over for dinner really soon! My place, though – not the scuzz-dump!" then she punches her boyfriend on the shoulder with a laugh.

"Great, yeah! Dinner! Yeah." John was too dumbstruck to create a complete sentence!

She gets up and walks to the door, Sherlock follows. "Have a lovely day. Call me later."

Janine struck his jacket with a knowing glaze and tease "I might do. I might call you – unless I meet someone prettier..." and they kiss.

John turns away as quickly as possible, not knowing where to look. Oh, a window. Wonderful. And this is such a nice wallpaper, I should ask to Ms. Hudson where she found it maybe I can put the same in my office. Without the bullet holes.

After a softly muttered, "Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes." Janine leaves the flat.

Sherlock's demeanour changes immediately as soon as the door closes. The lover leaves to give room to the sharp detective.

"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but he’s so much more than that. He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power. I’m not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail ..."

He walks to his laptop to shows to John a photograph of Magnussen’s home as well as a blueprint of the building.

"... and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name is Appledore."

"Dinner."

"Sorry, what, dinner?"

"Me and Mary and you and Janine. Dinner ... with ... wine and ... sitting." John adds still unable to shake the amazement from his voice.

"Seriously? I’ve just told you that the Western world is run from this house ... and you want to talk about a dinner that will NEVER happen." What is HIS problem?

"Fine, talk about the house."

After an exasperated look, Sherlock continues. "It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals – and none of it is on a computer. He’s smart – computers can be hacked. It’s all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you’ve ever met is a fantasy."

His speech is interrupted by Mrs. Hudson’s "Ooh-ooh! Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn’t you hear it?"

"It’s in the fridge. It kept ringing."

"Oh, that’s not a fault, Sherlock!" That boy will never change, she thought fondly but at least now John is with him, the last month was not really good with Sherlock acting like the wedding never happened and that John wasn’t a part of his life anymore. I know I said that 'Wedding changes everything!' but I didn’t realize that much. So sad, they would have been a nice couple.

"Who is it?"

Mrs. Hudson's daydreaming stops and she goes downstairs to open the door.

"Mr. Holmes said you can go right up." her voice was nervous as if she was feeling insecure.

Two men, clearly bodyguards, walk into the apartment, leading the way to Charles Augustus Magnussen.

Stopping near Sherlock, one of the bodyguards waits for Sherlock's authorization to check if he had any arms on him. "Oh, go ahead," Sherlock says as if it was a regular occurrence in his life.

Another one looks at John "Sir?"

"Oh, he’s fine." the detective replies for John. Arms? Come on... a scalpel and a stethoscope maybe!

"Er, I ... right. I should probably tell you ..." the doctor explains... right before the goon found a flick-knife and the tire lever.

Sherlock looks confused at the sight of John 'arsenal'. A tire lever, really?

"I can vouch for this man. He’s a doctor. You know who I am, you probably checked beforehand and know who he is." Which is better than me, Sherlock adds to himself. "Don’t you, Mr. Magnussen? I understood we were meeting at your office."

Magnussen looks around the living room and says, "This is my office. Well, it is now."

He sits on the sofa and scrutinizes John for a moment while a list of details passes through his eyes.

John Hamish Watson.

Afghanistan veteran (see file).

GP (see file)

Porn preference: bisexual / normal

Finances: 10% debt (see file)

Pressure point: > Harry Watson (sister) alcoholic, Mary Morstan (wife), Sherlock Holmes (best friend, man of honour at the wedding)

"Mr. Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband’s letters."

Magnussen appears unconcerned by the detective's request. He looks at the newspaper on the coffee table, not paying any attention to Sherlock whatsoever.

"Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters. She would like those letters back."

The businessman finally fixes his attention on the tall man in front of him and a list of facts appears, floating in front of his eyes.

Sherlock Holmes: consulting detective

Porn preference: unknown

Finances: unknown

Brother: Mycroft Holmes MI6 (see file)

Girlfriend: Janine Hawkins (just a front / possible liability / must keep an eyes on her at the office / friend of R.)

Officially deceased: 2011-2013

Pressure point: Irene Adler (admiration/desire?), Jim Moriarty (admiration/enemy/desire?), Redbeard (to be clarified), Hounds of the Baskerville (fear), Opium (ex-addict), John Watson (status to be clarified)

"Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind ..." He stops talking, Magnussen clearly not listening.

"Sorry, I-I was reading. There’s rather a lot about you," he adds with a sinister smile.

Sherlock frowns, not understanding what the man is doing.

"Redbeard. Hum... Interesting."

The detective blinks rapidly before being able to regain his composure. Why does Magnussen talk about Redbeard? What kind of sick game this is?

"Sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I ... I was trying to explain that I’ve been asked to act on behalf of ..."

But once more Magnussen stops listening to asks one of the security men. "Bathroom?"

"Along from the kitchen, sir."

"Okay."

Sherlock, not wanting the man to get the upper hand continues. "I’ve been asked to negotiate the return of those letters... I’m aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents ..."

"The bathroom, is it like the rest of the flat?" Magnussen interrupts again, turning to one of his men.

"Yes, sir."

With a sigh, he states, "Maybe not, then."

"Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock was still trying to accomplish his mission. John was fascinated by his patience. God, I'm not the one who talks and I am 2 seconds away from punching the bastard in the face to erase that cold smile.

"Mr. Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" his friend says louder.

"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her. She’s English, with a spine. The best thing about the English... You’re so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing... keeping your little heads down."

He then proceeds to the fireplace where one of his guards promptly removes the screen and he urinates into it!

"You can do what you like here. No one’s ever going to stop you. A nation of herbivores. I’ve interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England. If it works here... I’ll try it in a real country."

After he wipes his hands, he finally answers Sherlock. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need these letters, so I’m keeping them. Goodbye."

He walks to the door and turns one last time toward John and Sherlock. He puts his hand in his pocket and laughs as he pulls out some letters. "Anyway, they’re funny.” Then he steps outside, one of the guards closing the door after them.

John was the first to react with a furious, "Jesus!"

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?"

"Wh... There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah." he replies with a gesture in the direction of the fireplace even if Sherlock was not looking at him. Kind of hard to miss!

"Exactly – when he showed us the letters!" he grins.

"... Okay."

"So he’s brought the letters to London – so no matter what he says, he’s ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he’s established a person’s weaknesses – the ‘pressure point,’ he calls it. So, clearly he believes I’m a drug addict and no serious threat. I’ve been working exclusively on this for the last month. My email account is bursting but I can't take on other cases as long as this is not finished. This is why I was in the drug den, so it was time well spent! And, of course, because he’s in town tonight, the letters will be in his safe in his London office while he’s out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven ’til ten.”

"How-how do you know his schedule?"

"Because I do. Right – If you still want to be a part of this I’ll see you tonight. I’ve got some shopping to do."

"What’s tonight?"

"I’ll text instructions. Give me your phone number."

God give me patience! "I didn't change it, still the same old number."

"Hum? I don't have the time to check, I can find it if you want but it would be quicker if you simply give it to me."  I could ask Janine but seriously, what was the man's problem?

"And don't bring a knife or a tire lever. Probably best not to do any arm-spraining, Billy told me how you injured him when we left the den, but we’ll see how the night goes." Sherlock went down the stairs and called a taxi.

"You’re just assuming I’m coming along?"

"I still don't know why you were there this morning and why you’re thinking you ought to check on me, but you definitively need more action in your life and you’re not as dimwitted as most of NSY. Time for you to get out of the house and do more exercise, the cycling isn’t doing it. See you later!" he adds with a smile.

He opens the cab door and gets in, leaving a mystified John on the pavement.

A few seconds later, Sherlock's phone buzzes with a text. “Here you go, you inconsiderate git, is that enough to get my number back in your directory? Text me later if you really want me around.”

“I can’t believe the guts of the man and where does he found my number?” The detective said out loud in the taxi. Looking at his phone, he clicks to save the number in his directory only to realize that it is already there under the name 'John'. He can't find any conversation as he regularly wipes the memory of is phone, clearing texts and emails as soon as possible. 

Curious, he closes his eyes for a quick visit to his Mind Palace but found nothing.

His focus went back to Magnussen and the task ahead.

It was super long, sorry! If you are curious for the rest...  On AO3 / Completed

Let me know what you think, Morgane :-)

#His Last Vow re-write #johnlock #mind palace #completed

[pinchevaquerx]

⎧ headcanon ⦂ T R A I N I N G ⎭

-- I want to note a lot of this is based off my talks with @fearthxreaper so all the interactions with Gabe are based on hers. It’s sort of my default for Jesse, but obviously if this doesn’t jive with your version of Gabe then we can just shove it all in a box. -- tw: alcoholism, addiction, mentions of corporal punishment, withholding food, general abuse of power all around - Deadlock was terrible, guys.

The first few months Jesse was in Blackwatch were the hardest. He was constantly scared, didn’t trust anyone, and had no idea how a rigorously structured system worked. Rules were frequently broken, and every time Jesse was amazed at how lenient the punishments were. This, unfortunately, just caused him to want to break more rules to find what the limits were. Looking back, it was less like training a recruit and something closer to taming a feral dog. Jesse rather liked the comparison. 

His first night on base, Jesse broke into the kitchens to get food. He hadn’t eaten during the scheduled dinner because he hadn’t realized it was free. Because of the way things worked in Deadlock, he assumed he’d either have to pay or have done something to earn it. As Jesse hadn’t been assigned any jobs and he had no money, he waited until night to steal it. Once the concept of ‘you’re provided with what you need’ was explained, he still didn’t believe it. For many months he continued stealing things, hoarding food, and refusing to accept anything without being given a reason he deserved it. 

(The first gift he ever accepted was a stupid, gaudy belt buckle from Gabe.)

Jesse got in far, far too many fights. He was used to a system where you dealt with everything yourself, because going to a higher up was considered ‘snitching’ and you got in trouble for it. The concept of being formal to those in charge also didn’t make sense to him. Respect he knew, otherwise you got beat, but standing at attention, saluting, and using proper titles to address someone... well he never quite got the hang of it all. He got better, and whenever his behavior would reflect badly on Gabe he could pull his shit together, but when it was only Blackwatch around all formality went out the window. 

Physically, he was in terrible condition. Underfed, with an awful diet, more alcohol than water, the beginnings of a drug addiction, a smoking habit, and more than one improperly healed broken bone - he was the physician’s nightmare. On top of all that, the only exercise he got was from fun but dangerous activities (bull riding, train hopping, etc), running from the cops, and the frequent fist fights the gang got in. Once he accepted the meals, he kept trying to overeat and it took forever for him to form a decent diet. The constant exercise from training hurt, but it helped him get a regular sleeping schedule. He had minimal muscle mass and was more used to functioning off adrenaline than actual energy. It was a rough start, but as soon as he adjusted to the new schedule it began positively affecting everything else. Getting clean from the drugs was a bad month, the alcoholism took almost a year to get under control, and he lowered (but never quit) his smoking habit. 

He was too much of a snippy asshole when forced to go without a smoke that other agents kept caving and sneaking him cigarettes just to get him to shut up for five minutes. 

Most concerning was his lack of an education, but it took a few months before anyone even realized how bad it was. Jesse had never spent a day in school. The basics of everything was self-taught, and Deadlock certainly hadn’t helped at all. Gabe was the one who made the final call of making sure Jesse, at the very least, got his GED. Receiving his certificate at nineteen was the final step Jesse needed to feel confident. Like he really could amount to more than just Deadlock trash. Progress after that point sped up, and by the time Jesse was twenty, only those who had been around had any idea how rough he’d been before. 

#maybe one day i'll post a nice hc #not likely but we'll see #⟴ headcanon ⟞ #tw alcoholism #tw addiction #tw physical punishment #i'll go more into his education some other time #i got way too many thoughts on that #this would be twice as long

[sorryparis-forihavesinned]

August.

It’s already August 5th. How did that happen? This was by far the fastest summer. I’m happy that my loans got situated and I’m happy that I’ll be finishing what I started in order to have a good future. But at the same time, I’ve been content in hiding from responsibility and my problems. I’m still at my friends, avoiding home. This is my last week though and I’ve yet to tell her because I don’t want it to be real. I’ve always hated school and I thought college would be different, but it wasn’t. So, in conclusion I just hate school. I hate the state that it’s in, I hate the people, I hate how I have to act, I hate putting on a smile, I hate that I can’t do what I want to do, I hate that I can’t like what I like, I hate that I have to explain myself constantly, I hate talking, I hate holding conversations, I hate trying to make friends then getting depressed because I can’t, I hate being so far away from everything with my family because then I really don’t know what’s going on, I hate sitting in a classroom for 3 hours everyday, I hate field trips, I hate projects, I just hate school. I hate everything and I wish I didn’t but that’s just how things are I guess. I wanted to be a writer and still do. I wanted to do film but then I got too afraid. And, now I’m just doing whatever in Photography. I like it, I just know it won’t get me anywhere. I think, I just lost any passion or strive after my first college. Lasell killed me as well as my father, brother and mother. You get older and you start to see the truth and you begin to understand what’s wrong with you, like what’s deeper than the first layer. I’m dead inside and I don’t really accept it. I can’t sit through a show or movie anymore without getting bored or distracted by my thoughts, I can’t even listen to music anymore without changing the song within the first 30 seconds. I just finished watching HBO’s Euphoria and as much as the show is very exaggerated, I could relate to it a lot. I relate the most to Rue and she says this quote, “There’s nothing I’m really passionate about. you know, like, I’m not dying to say or do anything, really.” and I get it and I wish I could just fucking say that in my classes to my professors but then they turn it around to attack you and ask “well how are you going to make it in the world if you have nothing to say or if you’re not making work for an audience.” So many people including my professors talk constantly about mental illness and how to treat those who have it. Yet, I try to talk and close to every project I make, it’s almost like a cry for help but they refuse to see it or truly listen. And, every time I come up with a project idea that I relate to, it’s shutdown immediately. I deal with so much shit everyday and I have to constantly hold it all inside because any chance I get to be able to express myself, I’m told to not do it or change it. That’s why I loved writing so much, because I got to take all the sadness, all the anger and rage and put it on paper, I got to take what was inside and put it somewhere else. I stopped cutting when I began to write because I wasn’t taking the pain out on myself anymore. But then I got to Lasell and I wasn’t getting the same results I got in High School anymore. I lost confidence in my ability to write and so I turned to what I knew best, when I couldn’t handle to change in my life. I was drinking everyday, taking xans three times a day to numb the pain, snorting coke to make me feel happy. I crashed. I crashed hard. Then I transferred to Florida and here I am. Still depressed and with lack of motivation, I don’t want to do a damn thing. I still drank and took my xans and if I had a coke plug I’d probably still be doing that. But, it seems this summer really changed me a bit. Watching my brother overdose scarred the fuck out of me and I still replay everything that happened in my head, the way my father was yelling to wake him up, the way his face changed to pure gray, the gurgling noises he made, the cops reviving him, my father crying and lying. But what’s fucked up the most, is that now, I wish that he had just gone. And if you have ever dealt with an addict in your family, you’d understand. My brother is so far gone, we’ve tried everything, my family is torn apart because of my fathers and brothers addictions. We lost our home because of their addiction, we lost our money because of their addictions, we lost the respect and trust from family, we lost my father and brother. They constantly steal and sell just to get an hour long high. My brother isn’t the person to go to rehab and change his life. He loves the life of drugs, he always has. And, also after the fourth of July, I just really hated who I turned into at my cousins. So, I don’t think I’ll be drinking as often anymore, or at least I’m really going to try when I go back to school. I also want to get off the xans, because at the end of the day, I hate being tired and just out of it all the time. I’ll stick my weed and see where this year brings me I guess. I also, made up my mind officially, I’ll be moving to California with my best-friend after graduation. I’m can’t live at home anymore, I can’t keep living the way we’ve been living for the rest of my life.  As I said before, you get older and start to look deeper into your issues. My insecurity stems from my father commenting on my weight constantly growing up, when I was molested has another role in it I’m sure, every time a boy called me “fat ass”, when girls would judge me because of how I dressed, my own sister criticizing everything I did and reading my diary to her friends and calling my horrible names about how I looked. I grew up hating myself, I grew up hating every aspect about myself to the point where I can’t even believe a fucking compliment now. That’s another reason why I drink so much, to be able to feel and be confident to talk to people. I’m so self critical because my whole life, i was called stupid or dumb and I was ridiculed for everything I said or did, by my own family. Even today, I’m still judged on how I dress or the fact that I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m constantly called a lesbian because I don’t wear “girly” clothes or because I’ve never had a boyfriend and I’m 21 years old. It gets frustrating when everyone is telling you who you are when you don’t even know yourself. So, you just go off of what people say or think because that’s what you’ve done your whole life. I’m just on the edge of self destruction but I’m trying to hold back, trying to just focus on myself for once. I don’t want to become an addict like half of my family, I don’t want to ruin my life. But at the same time this shit is fucking hard, when every person around you talks down to you and tells you to “suck it up” or compares your problems to someone else’s. Why do we have to compare our personal life issues? Why is it a fucking competition? Whatever anyone is going through is their own issue and they can hurt from it however much they need to. No one at school other than my roommates know me or knows anything I go through and when I try to talk to them, I’m shut the fuck down and I’m sick of it. Maybe like my writing, I want to put my rage and sadness in my photographs. But, then I’d fail. There’s no win in this. I have nothing left to give, yet I have to go back to this fucking school with this fucking professor and make shit work that I’m not emotionally attached to.   

[iammarilynn-blog1]

Society has a lot of misconceptions, especially when it comes to drugs. Families are torn apart, people are dying, and innocent people are being called criminals who are not really criminals. There is perception, then there is reality, society has this perception that drug use is caused by peer pressure or is a get away from reality, which is partially true but that does not cause addiction. There is still a reality of drugs, the reality many ignore. There is the perception society has of drugs, then there is the reality. Society needs to know more about the reality of drugs and hopefully, we can help addicts and have less criticism. People think drug users are horrible people who enjoy what they are doing. The reality of drug use tells us a different story.

In society, most people who have never dealt with drugs before perceiving drugs as something that is not their problem, especially with marijuana. With it being everywhere and celebrities glorifying it and projecting it all over the news, what do we expect? People think legalizing marijuana should be the main concern, but what about the drugs that are actually killing people every day? Few people want to think of that; in fact, no one does. The main focus of today is that of the “stoner” culture. There is nothing wrong with smoking marijuana but that is not the point, it does not kill people and people are not addicted to it. Everyone is focused on just marijuana and making fun of other drugs by calling themselves and others “crackheads” “tweakers” or “junkies”. Is it really funny though? Very few in today’s society takes these things seriously. What will it take for people to wake up and realize what is really going on? It is everywhere, you can barely go anywhere without hearing something about marijuana being legalized or not. No one realizes how bad drugs are. They would rather sit around and tell themselves and others that it is not that bad, that it is all just a rumor about drugs, they have it under control, that no one in this town it’s all somewhere else, that it is none if their business. No one wants to realize the problem, but it is about time we do.

The majority of society believes teenagers and young adults start using drugs to escape reality, someone told them not to, or because someone told them to. These can be partially true, some people do use drugs because of peer pressure, to spite someone, or that someone told them to, but that is not why they become addicted. Addiction is a disease, and it takes much more than having deep problems because someone told you to or being rebellious and doing it because someone said no.

As shown in popular television shows such as Breaking Bad, society makes drug dealers and drug users look like violent people who do not even act human and glorify drug use. The “tweakers” in the show are shown as animals where they crave meth and to get high; it is all they care about. They do not act human which leads people to start stereotyping all drug users. That is where misconceptions start; people think that drug users get started by peer pressure or wanting to make money.

The reality is much worse than anyone wants to think. Innocent people are dying, because no one wants to accept the reality. That addiction is a disease. It takes more than just rehab to get over it. Addicts are scared to get help, scared to get sober. If they get sober they have to face what they have been running from and more. They do just about anything to get their next high; they will steal from people they care about, sell all of their belongings and become homeless, some even turn to prostitution. Addicts do not just decide one day they want to ruin their life. There are signs and they have their reasons for starting, every addict has a story. No one ever wants to hear their story, because, to society, they are criminals who want to hurt people and get high, but that is far from the truth. Drug addiction is not what is perceived on TV, at the beginning, they will cover it up. People will do just about anything so no one finds out they are using. Most of the time people figure it out but tell them, and that is mistake number one. They need to be confronted, in the nicest way possible, waiting to confront them means it could be too late.

Addicts all want help, but they do not know how to ask or are too scared to ask. Addiction is much more serious problem; it brings death and people to be torn apart, and it follows people around for the rest of their lives. Most of the addicts that get help still deal with addiction for the rest of their lives. Majority of the drugs can cause depression and suicide, with some addicts if the drugs do not kill them they will end up committing suicide. People will go to extremes just to get the drug they need. Some will go from doctor to doctor just to get the prescription they crave. These people, these addicts, are in so much emotional and mental pain that they think this is the only answer. No one deserves to go through that. It is devastating, but that’s the reality of it.

Another sad reality of addiction is feeling alone and helpless. In the book Tweak Nic describes his experience at his first rehab facility; what a character tells him that really connects to him along with most drug users; “He talked about how until he started using, he had always felt like some alien, different from everybody. I think what he said was I felt like everyone else had gotten this instruction manual that had explained life to them, but somehow I’d just missed it. They all seemed to know exactly what they were doing while I didn’t have a clue. That is, until found drugs and alcohol. Then it was like my world went from black and white to Technicolor”(Sheff). When using drugs with most addicts, it makes them forget their problems and feel more normal.

It is a scary thing to stop using drugs, most people won’t stop because of the fear of withdrawals or having to face the things they have been running from. In the memoir, Tweak Nic talks about his experience with the fear of coming off the drugs, “The truth was, I didn’t want to stop. It’s not like I enjoyed stealing or hurting my dad, or whatever. I mean, I hated it. But I was so scared of coming off the drugs. It was like this horrible vicious cycle”(Sheff). Those words could not be truer; it does become a vicious cycle of running away from their problems. Society does not want to understand the hard reality of what is going on, unless you have dealt with addiction or have had a loved one that has, you will not understand the pain and hurt that comes with addiction.

Going through addiction is hard; addicts live with it for the rest of their lives. It is a daily struggle, of feeling alone, abandoned, and tempted. I still have the urge to go back to where I was, more often than I would like to admit. While on drugs, people, myself included, do things that they normally would not do, like lie, and hurt the people they love the most. I have met people who have done horrible things to me, and vice versa. It is not something to be proud of; I have to live with these things for the rest of my life.

Personally, I did drugs for two and a half years before I actually got help, but even after my journey, my addiction, it was not over. I started using at sixteen years old when I had something happen to me. I trusted somone. He was friends with our family for years then one day, I had everything taken from me. I trusted no one, I felt broken and used, I have never felt so low, it nearly ruined my life. How would you feel if at sixteen you were told for over half a year that the only thing you would ever be is a pretty face and something to fuck when they got home. The worst part was no one believed me, not even my own parents. I hated them for it, I just wanted everyone around me to understand how I felt. I needed someone to understand that is when I met someone who introduced me to heroin. I always thought I would never end up like that, as a little girl I always told myself I would never end up on drugs and I would never be like how my dad was. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try not to, the need to feel something or nothing at all becomes too strong, and when you get that first high, you forget what you are worried about, all of your problems go away; then you start to chase that feeling. That is what happened to me. Then, everything went downhill from there, I began lying to family and friends and hurting the ones who were closest to me. I lost a lot of friends that I was close with, and now I have to live with it for the rest of my life.

Getting clean is hard; it is probably the hardest part. It is scary, the withdrawals, dealing with everything you have been running from and finally facing it. To most people, the people who do not know, it may not seem that bad, but to an addict who has spent years running and hiding from their life, it can be terrifying. Mending broken relationships, having to face your family and friends after betraying the trust and hurting them, it can be scary and most friends and family who have been hurt by someone with addiction need to go to counseling. It is not something that just ends after you go to rehab. I had to go to three different places, mess up and fix it all on my own before I finally straightened myself up. I still have to deal with it and fix the relationships I broke and the people I hurt. I am not the only one; the majority of addicts in this country, the average person wants to realize any of this either.

Society as a whole must realize the reality that is outside their doors. Addicts are everywhere, yes, they can be homeless people on the street, but they can also be your neighbor, your coworker, or even your best friend or family member. Instead of everyone living in their own little worlds, people need to wake up and realize the things going on right on their doorsteps because it is also your problem and you can do something about it. People need to stop dying from drug overdoses and drug deals “gone wrong”, families need to be out back together and relationships need to be repaired. Addicts need to know that people do care and they are not alone. In order for our world to recognize and use these new changes, we need to look out for one another. Today's society is selfish, we need to start looking out for one another. How would you feel if someone close to you is going through an addiction?

[micheleannetittler]

Your stalking is going to be dealt with

Kim Wilson

Wanda Probe

Louise Gadd

Sandy MacDonald

Dave Sanderson

The Crown Counsel in New Westminster  and the Vancouver Police Department were very disturbed by the criminal harassment of Kim Wilson, who was the instigator and commandeered the lying charges against me, in the first place. They told her to stop her harassing them, calling them, emailing them, and apologized to me for her having put me and our family through this, and recommended that the VPD charge Kim with criminal harassment, and that our family get a restraining order on her.

__________________________________________________________________________

CHARGES DROPPED

They were lies, all of them except the part where I had to email a lot to beg for my money, which I was cut off from in my Trust Fund, NOT an inheritance. Kim created the problem and did damage in our family, so at this point, I agreed to the court’s fair and kind offer, just so we can keep this out of court, get it over with fast, and get our family protected from Kim Wilson and Louise Gadd, because we need to heal after such a hard two years of our mother dying, our father becoming paralyzed with a spinal cord infection, and our family home of 55 years being sold. It was during this hard time that the vicious vulture Kim Wilson attacked our family, caused a huge fight between me and another family member, took advantage of and lied to my family member, IN ORDER to suck her into charge me, and and now the sick Louise Gadd is once again back to her unhinged stalking of me, sharing this as if we are not human beings and our personal family hardships are her’s to cyber rape online. Louise is a sick woman in her political bigotry and racism, Wanda Probe is very mentally ill in her cyber stalking, but no one is as insane, obsessed, vicious, aggressive, unhinged and evil as Kim. Truly the most evil person we ever knew, her name was a swear word in our house, all the way back in highschool. This is a VERY bad person.

The police have already called Wanda Probe, the biggest cyber stalking case in the history of the Internet, but she is still using my registered company name so that will be dealt with. Wanda has been stalking me for 5 years, LYING insanely, saying I am stalking her. Kim does the same. They lie to such disturbing degrees and are insanely obsessed with me. But the VPD had NEVER seen the real evidence of Wanda Probe, until just recently, and now finally they see the enormous stalking she did to me. She will be dealt with by the VPD if she continues.

Kim Wilson is being dealt with.

  We are trying to get a publication ban on court

due to the rabid stalking and harassment of Kim Wilson, and of Louise Gadd’s history of physically stalking and harassing me, as well as her videos, and her obsession with screen capping me. We know who Sandy MacDonald and Louise Gadd are, and how they stalk and abuse people online who are not islamofascists and native supremacists.  They are extreme bullies who warp, lie, defame, and slander us in our politics, and are far left extremists who are helping Globalists destroy our country. We know where they live. They will be dealt with, legally.

  Kim has a criminal history, but she got away with way more than she was charged with all her life, a true con artist. Her entire history is extreme using of EVERYONE, dysfunctional relationships, extreme abuse, harassment, lying, stealing, manipulating, causing fights, and she has falsely charged many people, many times.  Kim enjoys bullying, terrorizing, and hurting people. Right back to highschool she was cruel beyond comprehension, made fun of everyone, in public, liked laughing at and humiliating people, was OBSESSED with looks, money, and status, a social climber who was a crack cocaine and heroin addict, whom EVERYONE believed was responsible for the fatal overdose of her then boyfriend, father of her 1st 3 kids, with whom she did crack cocaine during the entire pregnancies. Her BF’s heroin overdose was declared too great, BY THE CORONER, for it to have been him to injected himself, so then Kim told everyone that the VancouverPD snuck into her house on Gibson’s island, shot heroin into his neck, then snuck out. No one believed it. I do not know if she was directly involved in armed robbery, but they were addicts and she was charged with possession of a stolen credit card, and had a LONG history of stealing sprees at the Mall, and she stole of all her so-called friends, including me. I heard her BF committed armed robbery, and since he had a criminal record and was a bad boy who liked risky behaviour, as did she, whater he was doing, she was supportive of.  A  pathological liar, and the  most vicious, TRULY insane, maniacal, vicious person I ever knew. She just went to school with us, and she has stalked me since grade 8, trying to get into my life and be my friend, and I never liked her, and so when she called me in January 2017, when my father was first paralyzed with a spinal cord infection, and she TRIED TO CONVINCE ME TO USE HER TO HELP ME CHARGE THE TEMPORARY DIRECTOR OF MY SHARES, I said “no, you are crazy as hell, you are fear mongering so you can act like my rescuer, I am not using you to charge my family member, get away from me you insane nutcase”.

Her narcissistic injury was so extreme, and being the evil person she has always been, she went straight to my family member, and sucked her in. Note how the ONLY person with a vested interest in my charges, was Kim Wilson, and no one from my family? Notice how kim was cumming all over Twitter, maniacally laughing about how I was going to jail, was going to be homeless, my mother hated me, my family hated me, I beat my parents etc…400 tweets of the most insanely disturbed mental illness that NO ONE missed, viciously trying as hard as she can to inflict maximum pain, humiliation and domination like a wild banshee that everyone could see was INSANE AS HELL, and yet there was the low life Louise Gadd capitalizing on it, like a twisted bigot who thinks it’s ok to do that to people because of HER bigotry.

YOU PEOPLE HAVE NO RIGHT TO STALK, HARASS AND ABUSE SOMEONE FOR THEIR POLITICS. We have a right to assembly, freedom of conscience and free speech, and here you freaks are, acting as if YOU have the right to take someone’s freedom of speech.

  There is so much evidence of your stalking, way more than here. Wanda wins most obsessed for the longest, but Kim wins the most evil.

    Kim Wilson, Wanda Probe, Louise Gadd, Sandy MacDonald, Dave Sanderson Your stalking is going to be dealt with Kim Wilson Wanda Probe Louise Gadd Sandy MacDonald…

#Abuse #AuntieThis #bigots #bullying #Canada #Censorship #Citizen Journalism #cyber rape #cyber stalking #END RACE BASED LAW inc. #Erika Thomas #evil #feminism #gang stalking #Harassment #Islamofascism #Kim Wilson #Kim Wilson Tv #liberalism #Louise Gadd #mentally ill #Mexico #Narcissism #Narcissistic Personality Disorder #Narcs #Native Supmremacy #NDP #Pathological Liar #Politics #predator

[closseyc-blog]

Cartoon All Stars to the Rescue

DRUGS ARE BAD MMMK!

Now I remember a time when every kids hero in the late 80's and early 90's was telling them not to do drugs. I from time to time will watch these and laugh, they are corny for the most part, but because they really don't educate you about why pot is bad. They tell you that pot can ruin your life, you'll lose your family, you won't do good in school etc. But for me personally, pot isn't the worse drug on the planet, not by a long shot. Yet people fear it could lead to other drugs. Though I personally never had the need to do hardcore drugs because I've seen it in my life to know better, people have this fear that pot is the gateway drug. While some studies believe this isn't the case, others have seen this happen. Me, I'll just drink wine (the drink that can cause liver damage, totally legal!)

I know I'm suppose to be reviewing something here. I just wanted to make a point of how anti-pot messages were ingrained in us ever since we were a kid. Yet the message I feel as we have grown really isn't as well thought out or as clear as it could of been. There are a ton of drugs out there, yet we don't know what to do if we see a drug. We need a team of cartoons from my childhood and Alf in drawing form to teach children about the evil of pot! You know what for fun let's just throw former president George H.W Bush and first lady Barbara in the mix (because kids love old people talking about their favorite cartoon characters, trying to be hip). With that we have the classic fail of the anti drug message, Cartoon All Stars To The Rescue. I remember the first time hearing about this I seriously thought it was fake. I never heard of this before, all of my favorite cartoons from my childhood getting to together in one epic special. Damn this is every kids dream. Then you start the movie and oh boy it's not a special I wanted at all.

It starts with a message from the Bush's basically giving a spoiler as to what you're about to see (geez George way to ruin the show). You know it's a bad sign when an old man is telling you that you're favorite cartoons are about to give you a life lesson. The cartoon starts with the Smurfing Smurfs. I'm not going to lie I'm not a big Smurfs fan, so who cares about Papa Smurfs smurfing up coke . Papa Smurf notices a little girl's( Corey) piggy bank and alerts all the town. Then a picture frame of Alf (who the fuck has a picture of Alf framed is beyond me) comes to life and tells a lamp of Garfield to help or he'll eat him (Oh the eating oh domestic house pets such a child memory). Soon  Alvin and the Chipmunks,  Winnie The Pooh and Muppet Babies Kermit the Frog all wake up Corey to show her that her piggy bank is missing. She finds it in her brother Michael's room who is classic drug addict stereotype, stealing money from her little sister's piggy bank.  This is where I never thought I would hear my favorite cartoon characters say the words, Marijuana and Drugs. I don't want to live in a world where my cartoons have drugs in their universe (though I have a feeling most of the writers of these shows were on drugs when writing this special).

Michael has a sick kick in the form of a smoke (voiced by George C. Scott, which is the most shocking thing about this special) basically being the bad guy getting him to do all these drugs. His character is basically devil on your shoulder saying keep doing drugs, DO IT! Bug Bunny takes him back to the past to show him how he started, which is the basic story of kid asks Michael you want to get high, sure! This was a classic tactic used to how drugs addict start their addiction. Not from a doctor prescribing them pills that they shouldn't be, not seeing their parents do this when they were younger, or dealing with a problem and seeing how the affects made them feel better without truly solving anything. Though yes most people do start smoking pot because they see others do it and they want to be included but is not the only way that drug use starts, and it's sad how they never really address this.

They look into Michael's brain as if it were a fun roller coaster (because everyone hates roller coaster especially  kids) While you can make the argument that they make the ride scary, who hasn't left a ride that was scary saying wow that ride made me look at my life a different way. There isn't a clear message as to what drugs can do to your brain, as far as brain damage or nerve damage. It's just scary clouds and ghost looking figures. Yes dealing with drugs to deal with problems is not good, but you can't just say that by saying you go up like a fun roller coaster, without showing what it can do to your body.

Then the most annoying part of this special, they sing. They sing about saying no to drugs. Yes my favorite slogan just say NO! Instead of giving Michael advice on how to get off drugs like talk to an adult, go to a teacher or seek help from a professional, nope saying no is the magical way to stop drugs from coming. I've been to parties and offered things, I do say no and they don't harass you like they do in most shows or commercials. So I guess it is magically!

The rest of the special shows Micheal his future if he continues to do drugs. Though they aren't specific about what drugs  he would be on in the future, he looks like a zombie (which I'm sure is the disease from the Walking Dead, so there the disease turns him into a walker). This is my problem, drugs work different and the side effects are different. If you're going to generalize all drugs having the same effects, you're dumbing down your message. They just show him looks terrible, you don't see if he possibly becoming homeless, getting a disease from sharing needles, show him losing his family and friends leaving him alone, losing job after job from his addicting, showing him going to jail. There are so many ways to show the real horrors of drug abuse.

The end shows Micheal stopping his sister Corey from using his drugs and he goes to talk to his parents about what he's been doing. And instead of the show ending show a number (it was the early 90's so they didn't have a website yet) they show Executive  Producers Roy Disney! I'm not going to lie this upset me the most. Most shows that had a serious message, they would at the end of the episode show you a number you can call if you need help with that specific problem they dealt with in that episode. Full House did it when they addressed Child Abuse, Disney's Doug (even that shitty of a show) did it when they addressed Eating Disorders. This show which has a lot of children's favorite cartoon character talking about a serious issue and they end it with a stupid song and credits. They do show a number, but not until the end of the credits.

You can see why this show is flawed. I get it the message they were trying to give, but it fell into the so lame and not well researched. I wish they would of showed kids a more serious tone with this. Yes I know cartoons aren't the best way to show this, but you know what is, showing real life people dealing with this. It something you can't take lightly. I mean I see people smoke pot all around me, you think these messages got through to kids back then, hell no. But you know why I don't do drugs, because I try to educate myself on what drugs can really do to you. I watch shows like Invention, read articles on the pain killers effecting communities, hell I even read Facebook posts by people saying how another person that went to my high school died of a drug overdose. This is why messages like these fail, we don't show the reality of what drugs can do to a person. They just say drugs are bad, they ruin your life... ok yes but how? I see anti- cigarette ads that show what smoking does to your body and I see that and I say no way I want that. No matter how gruesome, how horrible, how sad drugs can be, we need to show this to kids.

I'm going to end this blog like this show should of ended by giving a couple of websites you can visit if you or someone you know has a problem. Don't be afraid to help a loved one.

https://www.drugabuse.gov/related-topics/treatment/what-to-do-if-you-have-problem-drugs-adults

http://drugabuse.com/library/how-to-help-a-drug-addict/

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/addictions/drug-abuse-and-addiction.htm

https://addictiontosobriety.com/addiction-treatment-options/?utm_source=g&utm_campaign=g38&utm_medium=c&utm_content=01494A00001&gclid=Cj0KEQjwnPLKBRC-j7nt1b7OlZwBEiQAv8lMLNWKLlWnYVwas06czDv_jX1Xjq-DBAMaWN-Ju9PyZsEaAvuT8P8HAQ

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #94: Wrath.

Written: 4/11/2017                                                                Interwoven Week

Boris was the guy that people went to when they wanted somebody to disappear, or even die very violently. His actual name was James, but he felt that people would respond to something that played off of his Russian heritage, and felt that the name “Boris” was much more threatening than the name his parents gave him. Also, it didn’t hurt to use a fake name when your business isn’t exactly legal. Even though Boris was a killer for hire, he had a soft spot for anyone with a reasonable desire for revenge, and has been known to do pro bono work for anyone who can give him a good story, especially since he mainly either kills people who stole drugs, cheating spouses, and the occasional business partner.

The first time Boris had decided to kill somebody for free was when a dentist had come to him, explaining that he discovered one of his patients had stolen the dentist’s collection of pulled teeth (the dentist would not explain why he collected these teeth), so he decided to confront the guy, but lost his spine on the drive over and decided to just follow the guy around until he worked up the nerve to either ask for his teeth back, or sucker punch the guy. However, while he shadowed his client while silently giving himself a pep-talk, saying “you know teeth, you can knock his out no problem” or “you’re a lion, you’re a big, sexy lion”, he saw the client had entered a nursing home, which seemed innocent, until he watched from a doorway as the client entered the rooms of a catatonic old woman and, well, proved to be a degenerate and a menace to society. Boris had found some of the story strange, and a little confusing, but he said to the dentist that a man like that should not be able to continue on living, and that the police would be too much trouble, and was surprised when the dentist said really just wanted the teeth back, but if he wanted to kill they guy he could kill him. Even though the dentist didn’t have the best intentions, Boris knew that the job was still a noble one, and decided to do it for free, wanting to kill a man who had actually turned out to be worth killing.

Yet, Boris’ strangest client was a young girl, about the age of ten, who had approached him and said, “You kill people, right?”

“Yeah,” said the hit man, “but I don’t do it for free.”

“Okay. How much would it cost to kill God?”

Looking around for some sort of parent that may be with the child, somebody who would pop in and explain that it was a joke, “What- what are you talking about?”

“A cross fell of the church and killed my mom. The preacher said it was an ‘act of God’. People said ‘God has a plan for everything’. So, God took my mother away from me. He’s an asshole. I want you to shoot him in the face.” A puzzled expression was the only response she got. “Its not the only bad thing he did either. He’s killed a lot of people. He’s caused a lot of storms. He’s allowed drugs and murderers to exist. He lets children be born in bad situations, and then sends them to hell for having to survive. There is no reason that we should be okay with this. People tell me to pray to him, to get on my knees and beg him to stop doing bad. Why am I supposed to kiss his ass, just so he wont take my dad too? Why should I-”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Sheesh. Problem is girl, I’m agnostic.”

“What is that.”

“I don’t know if God exists, I’m not sure.”

“What does not knowing if he exists have to do with it? Can’t you still shoot him, even if you’re not sure it was him that you shot?”

“Okay, even if I could find him, or whatever, what would I do then? How would I kill God?”

“With a gun.. Do you know how to kill people? Am I in the wrong place? I thought you were supposed to be a professional? Why is a mean old man such an obstacle for you? Just fucking shoot him!”

“You swear a lot for a little girl.”

“And you kill people. Am I going to have to take my money elsewhere?”

Rubbing his temple, “I don’t think there’s anywhere you will be able to take that money, you’re asking for an impossible task. Look, if there is a God, no mortal could kill him, even with a gun. Think about it. If somebody could actually kill the guy, wouldn’t they have done it already? If the guy can knock over gigantic crosses, create storms and wars, then what the hell would a bullet be against him? You’re not thinking this through.”

“If you’re not going to help me, then can you at least tell me where I can buy a gun? If I can’t pay anybody to do it for me, I guess I’ll have to kill him myself.”

“I see nothing wrong with that.” So, Boris sold the child a snub nosed, kid-sized revolver and several boxes of ammo. The girl thanked him, then wandered out, back into the city, trying to figure out where she was even supposed to find the guy. If she could just see him for a couple seconds, all she would have to do is point and shoot, probably nailing him right between the eyes, and nobody would have to suffer ever again. ———————————————————————————————————

X-Ray stood on his trusted corner, trying to make his living by asking everyone who walked by if they would like a rock or two of pure pleasure. Most people just kept walking, some of the fiends would stop and actually buy some, but he knew that if he wanted to move his way up in this business, he would have to find a way to get new customers. Having a steady income wasn’t good enough, especially if that income only provided him with enough money to keep the power and water on in his house, and maybe allow him to buy some cheap as hell food. On the rare occasions that he would talk to straight edge people, who he mainly just wanted to get addicted and become another one of his customers, they would always assume that he had a lot of money, just because he dealt drugs. Sometimes he would point to his clothes, and say, “Do I dress like somebody who has money to throw around”, and they would usually say something about people who came from the ghetto not knowing how to dress themselves. In his mind, everyone with money was like that, but he only talked to one or two people in that category.

As he stood there, announcing his wares, he noticed, across the street, a young girl who was all alone and looked like her parents had a good amount of money. That’s when he realized that children would be the easiest way to expand his customer base, especially ones who could steal money from their parents, who would be too soft to pose a threat. “Hey, you there, little girl” shouted X-Ray, “you lost or something?”

Normally she wouldn’t talk to strangers, but she had a gun in her bright pink backpack and wasn’t worried. So, since she was lost, she decided to walk over to the teen who was waving her over. “Do you know how to get to.. Um.. Do you know where the frozen yogurt store is, near..” Being a child, she didn’t have a very good idea of the city’s layout.

“Yeah yeah, I know where you’re talking about,” he lied, “but, uh, why are you over in this part of town? Don’t you know that it can be pretty dangerous?”

“I’m not worried about danger.” Said the girl whose palms were covered in lines from colored markers that smelled like fruit. “Nobody around here is dangerous anyways.”

“Why do you say that?” Just the other night, he had seen a stray dog pull a abandoned baby out of a dumpster and eat it, but he guessed that the incident involved a dangerous animal, instead of a dangerous person.

“I went to some guy who kills people, but he said he couldn’t kill the guy I wanted him to.” Then again, about a week ago he saw a corpse in the alley way, but he also didn’t know if somebody had killed the woman, or if it was just drug related, or even was the result of another stray dog attack. “So now I have to go and kill him on my own.” The police who sometimes came through could be considered dangerous, mainly because they were bound to shoot you, beat you up, throw you into a hostile environment, or send you to prison, which was filled with dangerous people, but he couldn’t tell if police counted, since they were supposed to be everywhere, and weren’t specific to this area. Although, were they supposed to be specific to the area, “I’m going to kill him dead”, or did they just have to be in the area, even if they were everywhere.

People called him X-Ray due to the way he tended to over analyze things. Some of his friends said it was like he smoked pot once and never came down.

“So you’re a killer then?” Asked X-Ray, only tuning in at the last sentence. “Who are you killing then? You don’t look like you could kill a rat.”

“I’m going to kill god”, said the girl, completely serious. He hadn’t seen somebody be this severe since he saw a local bookie’s goons threaten his father back when he was as big as this girl, and he guessed that those thugs could be considered dangerous people too, but he also didn’t know if they were still around. And what if they were just muscle in appearance only, and never actually laid a finger on any deadbeats?

“That’s a good one. How you gonna do that?” Gunshots sounded in the distance, but there was no way for him to know if they were from violence and danger, or from target practice.

“I-” looking at her feet, “I don’t know. I have to find him, but I don’t know how to find him.”

“Shit, that’s the easy part.” X-Ray was no better than a corner kid, a peddler of wares, but he had seen enough crime movies to have a rough idea of what it was like to be higher up in the crime scene. “If you want to find the guy at the top, you just gotta cause enough trouble at the bottom for him to come out of hiding. God or no God.”

“So, wait. What?”

“Like, okay. So, you find people at the bottom, and then blam blam. You kill them. They’re dead. And then somebody above those guys are upset, so they come out from wherever they are, and you plug them too. You turn them into trash. Then, like, this keeps going, but eventually some hitters come after you, and you have to learn if you’re a mark or not. You either gotta live in the shadows, or die like a baby in the jaws of a dog. This time is also when somebody close to you is gonna die, if they can’t get you they’ll get the ones you love. You know, to draw you out too. Eventually you get your revenge, after wondering if its all, like, worth it and shit, and blat blat, you get the guys who got yours. Then, things get bad, and you finally get face to face with the boss man, the king pin, and you talk to each other for a while, he puts up like some crazy motha fuckin fight. Like, this fight is the best fight, and it goes on for some time as you guys spray bullets at each other, real crazy shit. Then, like, he gets a bullet in you, and its in some place where you’re not gonna live afterwards. But, you know, you also kill him, and then you die shortly afterwards, and like wonder if the death and everything was even worth it.

“Also you might fall in love with a guy, but I do not think you should do that. They either gonna die, or you gonna die then they’ll have to, like, mourn you and shit. Sadness cuts both ways when you deal with revenge.”

The girl stood there for a bit, thinking over what the guy told her, trying to figure out who the hell she is supposed to shoot first to get all of this started. And how long was this supposed to take, she wondered. Was she going to end up as a grown woman, spending her life going after God, and then finally having the big shoot out when she is as old as her mother, maybe looking exactly like her mother, a realization which led the girl to get lost in a day dream, where she pretends to be her own mom, and then God finally runs into her and says something like, “I’m going to have to kill you all over again”,  and she responds with something clever (for a child), like, “Go to hell”. Watching the girl trying to process the information, X-Ray wondered if she was reconsidering the whole thing. So, he decided to go back to his original plan. “You know,” he said, smiling a hustler’s smile, “If you don’t want to go through all of that, I know where you can find God real easy.”

Snapping from her fantasy, “What? Where?”

Reaching into his pocket, then producing a couple of vaguely-semen-colored rocks in his hand, “All you gotta do is smoke this shit, then you’ll be face to face with the big man himself.”

“Bullshit.” She said, half believing him but wanting to go through with her fantasy.

“You calling me a liar? Fuck outta here if you don’t believe me then, your ass could get eaten by some dogs or some shit.” Watching the stray root through the trash was more traumatizing than he would ever want to admit. “Why you askin’ for my advice anyways if you gonna question me?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She reached for the rocks in his hand but he closed it and snatched it away, which annoyed her.

“I’m not going to give this away for free though, so if you wanna… You know what? You have a noble cause and shit, so I’m gonna make this half-priced. $60 a rock. And when you need more to go after God and wait for your big shoot out, you’ll know where to find me.” Adding that last bit just to make sure that when she inevitably became addicted, she would come back for him. Although, while she rooted around in her backpack for money, he wondered if she would be able to find her way back to him, or if she would just end up finding any of the other young dealers around the downtown area. The girl didn’t even know where she was now, so how would she find her way back to him? Before he could find an answer to this question, she had shot him in the chest, causing him to become wide eyed and stare down at the girl, who was staring up at him, pointing the smallest gun he ever saw, which had a smoking barrel.

After he dropped to the ground, she searched his pockets for the rocks that would let her see God, knowing that it would be easier to steal than buy. Plus, if the guy was selling access to God, then wouldn’t he be on the big man’s payroll? Wouldn’t he be one of the little people that had to drop just to get everything going? And, she figured, if he wasn’t, then it was good practice anyways. ———————————————————————————————————

A few months back, Ramona was so desperate for money that she offered to tell people’s fortunes just for a quick buck, and she was surprised that it had actually worked, and gave her a stable enough income to keep withdrawals at bay. It turned out that a lot of the fiends and dealers in the area were very superstitious, so they would come to her to know how they were going to die next (a common problem), and how to avoid it. The clients that she had were very happy, becoming more satisfied with her fortunes every day that they were still alive, and the ones who believed her bullshit and dropped dead were in no position to tell everyone that she was a fraud. Half of the time that she told people their futures she was incredibly high, and was surprised that nobody was realizing that all of the mystical shit that came out of her mouth was just a bunch of high talk, but she didn’t care enough to point it out to anyone, she want ed to stay in business.

Her newest client was a girl who had wandered into the abandoned motel that Ramona worked in, and when she was found, the girl claimed, “I got one of the people on the bottom, now I have to hide and wait for somebody else.”

This was just a load of nonsense to Ramona, but she was able to smell danger on the young girl, which was also the smell of money. “I see that you are in a rough situation, you know that this is my specialty? The moon and the stars and the great man inside has lead you to me. A prophecy foretold.”

“The hell are you talking about? Are you talking about God?”

“No, not God, there are things in the Earth beyond what lies in Heaven and Hell.” She figured that if she acted like she knew more than what religions claimed, she would seem more trustworthy. “There are things you cannot see without the third eye of the cosmos, the fortunes past told. A galaxy forgotten and remembered again. Eons of suffering, rebirth, and harmony. Eyes without faces and faces without love. These area all mystic truths.” It was only several minutes ago before she got loaded. “If you are in danger, I can whisper to the secrets of the universe to find some answers, but it will cost you.”

“I spent all my money on a weapon. Would you be okay with trading?”

“What do you wish to trade?”

When the girl threw down the packet of crack, her heart almost shot out of her chest. Even though it wasn’t her favorite substance, there was a good amount of it, and she could probably trade it for something better. “Okay, yeah, you ready for the future to be told?” Too lit to contain her excitement, “Hold out your hand.” The girl listened, and Ramona tapped her fingers on the girl’s palm for ten seconds, then said, “When you see a red light, you must duck, and then you will be free from death. That clear?”

The girl nodded. ———————————————————————————————————

A priest stood at his podium, trying to remember where he had been going with his sermon, hoping that he could feel his way back to the point he was trying to make. It would be unfair to assume that his current troubles with his sermon reflected on him as a priest, he was actually one of the best in the city, a good man down to the core, but his memory had been hazy, headaches had become constant, and he didn’t know it, but he had a brain tumor. Every day for him was painful and confusing, but he tried to put on a brave face and let the lord guide him through the darkness. “And lo, he said, to all that would hear it, all that were listening to him. The masses who had gathered, they looked up at him, at what he had to say, willing to listen to his words, that he would say, and absorb their meaning. Just like all of you,” gesturing to the congregation, “Just like how all of you are listening to me now, they also listened to what he had to say.” The pain in his skull wasn’t as bad as the pain in his soul, also caused by the tumor, which made every day miserable, made him long for an end to all of his suffering. It was as if existing alone was too much for him, and it was an uphill battle just to keep going through the days. The only thing that kept him from an early checkout was the hope for an act of god, was the strength of his unwavering faith.

“And listen they did. Oh boy, did they ever listen when he talked. He said words, they listened to the words, all through the magic of vibrations. They all, all gathered and it was a give and take. He talked, they listened to him talking, and lo, and lo, it was a true community that had formed when he had spoken to them.” The page he initially read from in the bible was lost to him, because it was early on in the book, which accidentally closed due to the lightweight left side that required him to hold down if he wanted to book to stay open. At this point, he was just running out the clock, trying to think of something other than how terrible life had been. “Listening, talking, communication, these are gifts given to God. God is great for he has allowed us to have these things, he has given them to us. It is great. So great.”

Right when the priest felt like throwing up, church door had opened and a little girl had come running towards the podium, running past the pews, looking haggard. At first the priest wondered if she was lost or scared, then he thought she may have belonged to one of the adults in the congregation, but he was surprised when she had removed a gun when she as only five feet away from him. They both stared each other in the eyes, they were both incredibly happy to have this moment. The priest believed this to be an act of God, a way to save him from his agony without him having to sin by suicide, while the girl believed that a priest was pretty high up, and would really speed up the process of getting to the man in charge. Most of the congregation wasn’t paying attention, their focus had shifted away from the priest when he forgot what he was talking about, and the few people who did notice were either frozen in shock or believed that the lord would save the priest.

Only when the girl sunk three rounds into the priest did people pay attention, and they screamed in horror as the priest stepped back and fell into a pool of holy water, which began to turn red with his blood. They watched as the girl ran up to the podium, announced, “Tell God I’m coming for him. That fuckers gonna pay.” Some people screamed that she was the Antichrist, and later people would claim that she spun her head around, or that the crosses on the wall turned upside down. Before the girl leaved, she scanned the room for any nuns or other priests, but if there were any, they were hiding too well for her to see.

On her way out, she looked an elderly woman in the eyes, who then had a heart attack and died, believing that she locked eyes with the Antichrist, and her husband then had a heart attack, because he believed that the Antichrist gave his wife a heart attack. The girl, right before she walked out the door (everyone was too afraid to try and stop her) she shot a portrait of Jesus Christ, causing a hole to form in his right eye.

#Free Write #Short Story #Writers on Tumblr #Revenge #God

[thugwthahardon-blog]

#NewOrleans #SoA #IRP - I was born and raised in Charming, but moved away to New Orleans with my mom when she got a new job through a distant uncle of mine. Ever since then New Orleans was my home, even if I still longed for the day when I could go back home to Charming. My mother a single mom, who had ever since I could remembered worked two jobs to be able to care for me in the best possible way and for us to have that little extra. It was always honest work and even though she couldn’t always be present in person she made sure I knew that even though she wasn’t there she would find out if I hadn’t been a ‘Good boy’. It made me chuckle knowing that I would be using the term ‘Good Boy’ myself but in a very different purpose than that she did then. My mother was a tough cookie, trust me when I say hell would break lose if I as much as sniffed in the direction of the wrong crowds. My mother always seemed to know if I done something that I wasn’t suppose to do and she always had my hide for doing it too. I love my mom as much then as I do now, and I know she loves me back, even if I at the age of 28 my life hasn’t gone quite as straight to the top as she would have liked and I wasn’t quite the Good boy she’d hoped for.

My mum was always loving but you didn’t mess around with her when she was pissed, not as a kid or a 28 year old man. I grew up in an ok neighborhood, but it was not ok enough that my mother could protect me from all the dangers of the slum. When I became a rebellious teenager even I had found my ways of escaping her radar and I would spend my nights on the streets of New Orleans being up to no good. My largest advantage against bullies, cops and other gang related personas had always been my intelligence. I had an IQ of 151 and I never had to study to ace a test or finish high school with honors. That was also my downfall, because being the rebellious teenager I was, like most of them I needed to be entertained and entertaining a kid with an IQ of 151 wasn’t done in a turn of a hand. The high I needed to sate my highly active brain caused me to encumber my soul in debt to one of the most dangerous bosses in New Orleans, Vincent Taylor.

There really just were two major Bosses at the time alt least that were worth mentioning One was my boss Vincent Taylor or Vic as he was mostly known as. The other guy was after 20 years was still as nameless as he was faceless, no one knew him personally. His second in command was this guy named Alden and that was the only guy any of us ever saw or dealt with. Alden wasn’t from around here, his bronzed skin and accent, even if he hid it well, told that he from out west. I was pretty sure it was somewhere in Cali. My job would be to find out where. Everyone knew who Alden was and many men had tried to find out who his boss was but failed. That fact that no one knew who this Ghost was had always pissed Vic off beyond belief, he was used to getting his way and that money could buy anything or anyone, and every time the subject came up it got a raise out of him. Vic could go on and on forever about needing to know and I don’t know how many meaningless road trips that man sent me on to try to find out who the Ghost was, but the man was good, real good, at hiding his tracks. Like I said I am not your average Joe, I know how to hack into systems and what to look for when searching for people; but I had found nothing not a single trace. It was like the guy didn’t exist, and maybe that was the thing, that he didn’t. So instead of finding out who this guy was Vic did everything he could to lure him out into the open like stealing as many of his people as he could, especially his escorts and other golden girls and boys.

What Vic don’t know is that on one of those road trips about eight years ago in a casino in Vegas, around the same time I turned 21, I was approached by a single man who was pretty as a day, and looked innocent like a virgin on prom night. Instead of wasting time chasing this ghost again I let my libido rule and I spent my time there with him, this pretty boy. We never left his penthouse room at the Bellagio instead we spent three days fucking each others brains out. On the third day I woke up with him gone with the house cleaning manager banging at the door that it was way past check out time. On my clothes lay a note from my mystery lover who I only knew by his first name, Nick, that I knew was as fake as anything else he told me. Not that we been talking up a storm, why talk when you could fuck. Anyway the note on my jeans almost went disposed without me looking at it, but as it fluttered to the floor I saw my name scribbled on it with neat texting so I had picked it up. On it it said ‘It’s nice to know that at least one of the men who are looking for me can fuck like a god. I had a good time. Really I did.’ he signed the note with the ghost. Can I tell you that at that very moment the air left my lungs, I had fallen back onto the bed with my pants half way up my legs and as the house cleaning ladies came into the bedroom very demonstrative make a point for me to leave I just sat there and let them yell at me in Spanish. Obviously I went back home and didn’t breathe a word to anyone about who I fucked and especially that I managed to let him slip through my fingers.  

These days I was far from the good little boy my mama raised, I don’t even think any part of him existed anymore. I did a lot of shit for Vic, somethings I really didn’t want to do or feel proud off. I had only really killed three people over my ten years with him, and that was three too many. A few years in I had earned enough respect from Vic that I could tell him to find someone else to handle it and most often someone else did. Now he sent Jerry, some low life, dumb ass butcher who liked torturing people and that could in worse case scenario go on for days, I guess that was worse than what I did. It was Jerry’s sadistic ways that got me the street name The Executioner they said it was because I had mercy, when I killed it was a clean shot, wam bam thank you ma’am. Of course Vic used that to his advantage, you knew if he sent me he was giving you an easy death, if Jerry showed up he wanted you to suffer.

So, I had stood up to Vic about that a long time ago, I was a kid at the time and didn’t know the own value of my life. But I was in luck because I was to Vic like the son he never had. He like me, he liked my mama so he gave plenty more play space than most. The difference between me and the rest of Vic’s riff raff was that I had no plans of staying in New Orleans. I have grown to despise the city after all the shit I seen over the years. But I needed a little more cash than I already saved up to be able to take my mum and leave this god forsaken place. I lived cheap, didn’t spend a dime more than I had too. I seldom ate out or bought expensive things. The word about me in the family was that I had addiction problems problems and spent my money on gambling and spent my money fucking my way through New Orleans high class hookers. I let them think what they wanted, it was only to my benefit that they thought of me as a closet junkie. The truth was I had invested my money well through a Swiss bank under a fake name and identity.

I been working for Vic since I was 18, so for ten years I managed to put away a good chunk of money, and even if the cash I had would keep my mother and I living well for many years I still needed at least a quarter of a good mill more to ensure that we could pay for the new identities I knew we would need. One of those the back alley of fifth and third in a New York City basement for a 50 grand a pop wouldn’t do. What we would need was the real fucking deal, where every system was changed, and Isaac and Carla O’Connor would cease to exist.

Picking up my pace I flicked up the collar of my coat, the last of the winter winds had refused to let go of New Orleans so it was still cold this early morning. I threw a glance over my shoulder before running across the empty street that lead towards my apartment that was located on top of a bakery. The owner and baker of the shop was an old friend's father and he let me rent it for almost nothing. I had insisted on paying something but it was more a symbolic sum. This was one of the reasons I was able to save and invest as much money as I was each month. I proved my worth to Vic very early on after I started working for him, he was almost 18 years older than me and when I thought him as a mere 18 year old how to play the stock market and what games to get people to bet on to make the most money he start paying me 2% of the profit he made each week. Today I was up to 20% he made a shit load of money each week and so did I by getting my 20% and doing odd side jobs. I dug in my coat pocket for my keys cursing the damp wind running in under my jacket grazing my skin with it’s coldness and finally when the door gave way I didn’t hesitate to step right in and shut the damp weather out. Taking the steps up to the flat one at a time I step into this large loft with a open floor planning, the only thing separating my bedroom from the living room was a screen wall but that was fine with me. Not many people, hardly any at all actually, was invited into my home, most didn’t even know where I lived. Of course Vic did but he held me in such high regards at this point that he let me have my privacy.

I shrugged out of my jacket throwing it on a stool standing next to the kitchen counter that I used as a breakfast table. That was my favorite spot to sit in the mornings to read the paper or a book and drinking a good pot of coffee. I went directly to the sink washing up before taking out the finest beans of coffee money could buy, it was the only luxury thing I really let myself spend money on and of course the Moccamaster coffee maker. I poured water into the machine and measured up the coffee hitting the button before walking back through the flat to undress and have that clean of the shit from the night shower. This was my ritual every early morning when I came home, sometimes I would sneak in to Tony in the bakery and steal one of his scones or croissants to have with my coffee but not this morning, it been way to fucking cold to take that detour. Stripping out of my clothes just to throw them in the hamper next to the bathroom door I walk naked into the shower turning the water on, as I wait for the water to get warm I pick up my toothbrush and start brushing my teeth. I didn’t smoke myself but after spending a whole night with Vic and dealing with the books and who was due to pay up it felt like I had an ashtray in my mouth. That man didn’t go without a smoke between his lips for long. I don’t get how he could stand it, I felt nauseated just sitting next to him. I rinsed off my toothbrush letting it drop back into its cup before pulling the shower curtain aside to step in under the warm water.

I loved showering really hot, most people would complain that it scolded their skin, but not me it was like getting a gentle massage that started on the top of your head and didn’t end until it fell of your feet and down into the drain. For a few minutes I allowed myself to just stand there not thinking about anything or doing much of nothing, I just let the water fall over my face and the rest of my body washing away all evidence of Vic’s smokes, spilled beer on my pants that soaked through to my skin. After a while i sensed that the water was starting to get less and less warm I quickly washed up before turning the water off. I dried off quickly bringing the towel back out with me as I dried my hair, just pulling on a pair of sweats letting the wonderful smell of coffee lure me back to into the kitchen. I poured myself a large mug with a hint of milk and grabbed my book from the counter sitting down on the other chair next to the one where I left my jacket. This was me winding down after my night on the job. The sun was now just breaking through the dark grey clouds of the rain clouds that been on as a constant parade for the past couple weeks, sending this golden yellow light through my kitchen window. It actually made me smile as I picked up my cowboy western book and started to read. This was why this was my favorite time of day, it didn’t get much better than this. - #NewOrleans #SoA #IRP