#Vegas woman razor blades

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

I'm rereading the Meet Death Sitting series by @bomberqueen17 because I never read the side stories and, let me tell you, it is surreal remembering that a lot of these were written during the early days of the 2020 part of the COVID pandemic. It took me back. I was so scared during those days, and angry.

When the lockdown went into effect (and Nevada was one of the first ones to implement it), my sister was in prison for a nonviolent, first-time offense: embezzling from a multi-billion dollar international gaming company. So... Unjustifiably, imo. I think theft crimes should be weighted by who you stole from and how much it effected them. And frankly, they weren't paying her enough to survive on, and she supervised TWO sports books.

She got sentenced in January and for some reason couldn't appeal, and then lockdown happened in March.

They were doing NOTHING for the prisoners.

She was in the Las Vegas prison doing hard labor in 125°+ weather and they weren't even providing a decent amount of calories to eat each day, let alone masks and hand sanitizer. She lost 100 lbs in prison, in a deeply unhealthy way.

A woman with a mental instability smuggled in a razor blade that she would hold in her cheek, next to her teeth, and when Ashley reported it, they did nothing. Ashley got transferred to a different bloc at some point because she was going to be doing food service work (she has a culinary education), but someone did get hurt by that woman. No consequences came for any of the COs (correction officers) or the warden.

Oh, and then they yanked Ash out of food prep and into heavy labor. Not sure why, because we got her records and there's no citations or anything on there. They just did it. I'm PERSONALLY assuming it's because I was calling daily demanding to talk to the warden or the supervisor on duty to demand better treatment. FFS, they were feeding them grade B, not fit for human consumption food. I was calling everyone I could think of and generally making a nuisance of myself, during a global pandemic, and while advocating for Ashley I also began advocating for her fellow prisoners. I wrote to the governor. I wrote to the Nevada Department of Corrections. I spent 8 hours a day harassing state officials (and politely talking to state workers who don't get paid enough for this shit), and I'm pretty sure her getting hard labor was punishment for her daring to have someone on the outside willing to make life a living hell for themselves and others for her.

We all nearly bankrupted ourselves keeping money on her books so she could buy extra food and special soap because she has a skin condition and they just give you harsh lye soap (no shampoo, no conditioner) at the Florence McClure Women's Correctional Center. She has an IUD that stops her periods so luckily she didn't need tampons the whole time she was there, because they ration them and if you need more, you'd better have some money to buy shitty dollar store ones at Target prices! (IIRC Ashley took her allotment and shared them around.)

We illegalized private prisons in Nevada a few years back but they acted like they still were one. You had to work or you couldn't apply for parole. They sold dollar store products at a massive markup. They didn't give her medical care for all but the last month or two she was there, and that meant she didn't have her ANTIDEPRESSANTS for most of the time. She was suicidal and depressed and anxious and most of all, she missed her daughter - my niece, who got displaced to live with my sister's ex-husband, who is an alcoholic, abusive bastard who supports Trump and used to make Ashley set an alarm on her phone so he'd remember when to beat her. That's who my niece had to go live with. He was mostly sober by then, but she was clearly miserable and every time she came to stay with Mom for visitation, she didn't want to go back.

Ashley spent 10 months in there before getting parole in mid October of 2020 - for a first-time embezzling offense that was the equivalent of stealing $5 or $10 from someone in the middle class. (Also adding, the Gaming Board DID NOT ASK for imprisonment, they wanted her on probation so she could get a job and do restitution. The guy who talked her into it? The abuser who found a domestic violence victim and manipulated her? He got probation, and it was his fourth gaming offense.)

The entire time, I was organizing book drives and fundraisers and harassing state officials to do something - some of you remember this, because some of you helped by sending her books and money, and I still cannot thank you enough. To this day, I go to bed every night thankful for you all.

But I was spending my daylight hours, and a lot of my nighttime hours, trying to fight for her. Her voice wasn't being heard so I would damn well amplify it.

A lot of the women there shouldn't have been. Nonviolent drug offenses that clearly needed psychiatric care and not imprisonment. A woman who killed her husband in self defense, caught on tape, but still imprisoned. Another woman who's boyfriend was dealing meth and she got the guilt by association thing - never came up dirty, complied in every way, and they threw the book at her. Prison should be for 1st and 2nd degree murderers, rapists, violent abusers, torturers, organized criminals, people who molest and groom children. Not these women. It was heartbreaking. I knew it was bad, but now I had secondhand experience and I would never wish that on anyone but the most heinous of human beings.

I had nightmares almost every night that Ashley would catch COVID and die, or that she'd figure out a way to kill herself. I didn't wake Raven (my partner, for those who may have forgotten) when I had them. I just read a little bit of fic, and then cried myself back to sleep.

_____________

I don't know that I ever thanked @bomberqueen17. She's been through a lot the last few years (including something I can empathize with - a parent death. I miss my dad terribly. It's been 7 and a half years and I still feel his loss). But... I never thanked her for getting me through 2020 in mostly one piece.

It was her fics that I read when I woke up after a nightmare. It was her fics that I read in the mornings as I woke up, drank coffee or an energy drink, and got my day started to begin campaigning against Nevada's DOC. It was her fics that calmed me down in between calls and it was her fics I read to keep from crying when my sister called me. I'd read excerpts to her (she hadn't seen the Witcher yet but she still laughed at the right spots) and I'd try to keep her cheered up by telling her about fandom stuff.

Like yes, I read other fics and authors. But it was her fics that made a difference and, I think, are the reason Ashley and I were fortified enough to fight for her rights.

So.... A very belated thank you, @bomberqueen17. I don't know that I could have survived that, in addition to everything else 2020 threw at us, without your writing.

Also thank you for this very succinct explanation of why significant age gaps can sometimes present a problem, in a way that isn't denigrating to those with youth. I've been trying to explain it to my 23-year-old for years, and others, but now I will just use this.

You're the best. I can't wait to read the rest of the series.

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love

Chapter 7: Paint it Black.

Myrtle stumbled into her tent and flopped onto her sleeping bag, not even registering Cicero’s presence in the corner of the tent; he'd already retrieved the straight razor and began to creep towards her.

He couldn’t just plunge the blade straight into her chest for it would break too easily that way…he would have to slit her throat…but to that from this angle he would have to get on top of her…

He carefully crawled over her and when he was in position he lowered the razor to her throat…her beautiful, beautiful throat…

It was so quiet…say for her breathing…

Cicero could not help but…but admire…

Her body…so…

He shook his head “focus” he cursed himself, he thought about it, the crimson flowing from her as he sliced her veins…he also thought…why not just steal what he needed and run?

No, No! That would be crazy…wouldn’t it? She would go after him, they all would…

He had to make a decision here and now…

…

Oh her neck looked so pretty…so incicing to slit…but if an explosion could not kill her…what could a simple blade do?

He crawled away and scrounged around for more supplies, after taking what he needed he left the tent in silence, only glancing back at her and her peaceful sleeping form one last time…

Cicero walked out into the desert night not knowing where to go…where WOULD he go? Where was safe? Where was the way back to tamriel?

He needed answers…and perhaps this new vegas place…perhaps it had them.

So…Cicero wandered…

He wandered down the highway they were set down and kept walking through the night, his feet began to hurt and his stomach began to growl as the light of dawn barely crested the horizon.

 He came across a strange little row of shacks…the most bizarre animals he had ever seen, 2-headed hairless cows. A man and a woman sat outside the shacks, the woman was sucking on a burning stick and the man was cooking something…it smelled good…

“Well hey there friend, interested in some meat? It’s all fresh and clean and cooked to perfection here at Grub n’ Gulp, only 5 caps for a nice juicy kebab of your choice of fixings” he said to Cicero, Cicero’s stomach growled and he kept wondering what these “cap” things were, “What are caps?” Cicero turned to him as he broused the selection of meats and things to eat.

“Their um..currency…do you not know what caps are?” the man asked, Cicero shook his head “no, Cicero only knows of golden septims, little shiny clinky coins”, “you…mean like Legion coins?” the man pondered, a little on edge.

“Eh no…?” Cicero shrugged “different than that”, “well what currency do you have on you?”, Cicero looked in his bag and found a strange linen sheet of paper.

It was green and was covered in drawings, it had 100$ printed on it, “here how about this I give you 100 caps in exchange for that 100$ NCR bill?”, Cicero eyed the man “is that how much the…bill…is worth?”, the man nodded “100 for 100, equivalent exchange”.

Cicero got a handful of 100 caps, he spent 10 of them buying a few kebabs.

“What meat should Cicero buy, what is good?”, “hmm, you’d probably like some roasted radroach seasoned with chili powder and garlic, roasted with cave mushrooms and tomatoes” the man said “or maybe some juicy tender iguana bits”.

The lady turned to him “and if you're looking for something to drink, head on over here and I’ll get you something”.

Cicero enjoyed his meal and continued his walk, he entered a strange place full of ruins…then something exploded.

Cicero screamed as rubbled flew everywhere around him, “You like the sight of your own blood!” laughed out a maniacal voice, “c’mon out!” another sneered.

7 of them, men and women in dirty ragged armor came at him, they shot metal exploding weapons that spat bolts of hot iron at him, Cicero screamed in pain as he was shot in the arm and legs.

“Ooooh this one’s pretty!” one of them cooed, a woman with a bright green X across her face “when we get back to camp I’am gonna have FUN with you!” she giggled manicaly.

Cicero tried to stab her but was promptly knocked out…

(inside Camp McCarran concourse)

“Myrt, he’s a nutjob, why do you feel the need to help him?” Gannon said as he sat with her in the mess hall with Josua, the others were with Lily as she checked on Henry, Calamity and Marcus who were in the medical wing with the other Jacobstown survivors. 

“Arcade!” Joshua turned to him, “sorry but I wanna know! Myrt…why?”, she drank her nuka-cola and shrugged “same reason why I’am driven to help everyone?...the fact that it’s a compulsive uncontrollable desire that I can’t stop ever since my mother…” she snapped at him, she sighed “I just need to, it’s what I was taught to do”.

Gannon sighed “I…I’am sorry Myrt I…I…”, “It’s ok Arcade…” she patted his shoulder “I’am not mad at you”, Joshua finished his sarsaparilla and looked to his friends “but he has a point Myrtle, what if this man can't be helped?”

Myrtle looked to Joshua “Corinthians 13:7 and Luke 10:25-37”, “ah, to embody the good samaritan we must love unconditionally and try” he nodded “you have a point Myrtle”.

Arcade scratched his head as Myrtle got up to get another nuka-cola, “what did she say?” Gannon pondered, “in layman's terms: she’s not giving up because she believes in the power of love” Joshua replied.

 As Myrtle was going back to her table Colonel Hsu approached her “Myrt we have a situation, a dier one”, she uncapped her cola and sipped it “ok, whats the prob dog?”, he shook his head “Myrt this is a serious one, the Fiends have found a new leader and she’s taken hostages, several”, Myrtle looked into his eyes, her face now enraged “where?”

Hsu gave her a holotape “our scouts found the location but getting inside is another story, the place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse”, Myrtle’s grin twisted “Romans 1:18” she snarled, “what does that mean?” Hsu looked at her, “ask Joshua” she replied.

Myrtle, Raul, Boone, Rex, Lilly and Arcade traveled to the Fiends' new lair, caverns located near Vault 22.

“Fuck I hate that place” Myrtle mumble, “is it because of those spore carrier things? they give me the heeby-jebbes” Gannon shuttered, “oh not because of that” Myrtle shook her head “all those damn plants everywere cause my fucking allergies to act up”, Boone laughed “yhea, I remember the whole time we were in there helping Keely you were sneezing your brains out!”

The caverns on the outside were guarded by several Fiends…and spore carriers and spitter plants?

“Why aren’t the mossmen and snappy-weeds attacking them?” Lily turned to Myrtle, Myrtle took out her binoculars and looked at them closer…

The spore carriers here were different, they had several yellow white flowers growing all over them. 

(Survival 100 & Science 95: Successful Identification of botanical species!)

“these guys…they are a different type…cordyceps…and jimson weed…Datura…” she grumbled “their a new breed”, “so what's the plan?” Raul turned to her with a grin “roast em’ and toast em?”, “...no…no I need to know more about what the hell Fiends are doing with a new species of plant and how they got access to it when I burned everything dangerous in 22…Rex comes with me”.

“You're taking the dog with you?” Arcade grumbled, “Rex and I are small and easily concealed in all that brush…you guys are too big” Myrtle pointed out, being 5 '1 she was indeed easier to hide than companions.

“Ok, we’ll be waiting to bum-rush them and charge in if you need us” Boone nodded to her.

She crouched low and stayed hidden, she knew not what she would find inside…

Cicero awoke to being bound again, this time in rope and not iron cuffs, he was in a large cell with others. There were men and women and even a few children, they all were frightened, Cicero looked at them, they were all in rags and starved. He…did feel a wee bit sorry for them…afterall… he was in their same boat at the moment.

“Ooh please, ooh PLEASE let me have the pretty little red one!” maniacaly cackeled one of the strange bandits as they grasped at Cicero through the cage bars “I wanna pluck out his pretty eyes!” they squealed. “No, the boss is to have her fun with the men first, you know this Rinni, once she’s done you can do whatever you want to them” one of the bandits reminded him, “aw…but can I at least pull his nails out?” he giggled.

“I bet the little twink’s a screamer, ooh the boss will love making you scream, making you bite her pillows~” giggled Rinni “then you’ll scream for me in other ways~”...

 Cicero did not like the position he was in, he did not like what these bandits were insinuating…he did not like it at all…

“Boss wants one, she’s feeling frisky” a bandit said as he approached the cage “it’s your lucky day redhead~” he grinned. Cicero struggled and fought back, he kicked the guard and tried to run but was stuck with a sharp pinch in his shoulder “this should get you to calm down and besides” the bandit smirked “chemming you up will make things go a lot smoother, Boss loves it when they don’t fight back~”.

Cicero fell into a blissful haze…

Myrtle managed to sneak in and dispatch several guards with the help of Rex, 

She was in a poorly constructed bunker that housed several greenhouses containing the strange plants. She explored and executed all the while finding terminal entries by someone named “Green Mama”. About how she found these plants in a separate but similar vault facility and learned to control them using pheromones and how she used prisoners as livestock for spore carriers so she could make the Fiends more drugs from the plants.

“Ah so that’s how you are doing it” she mumbled…“wannabe poison ivy, mother nature bitch hu?”

She then came in to a large shabbily-made prison that held all the prisoners she unlocked the prison door using the terminal attached to the gate “go, quickly, your free now and they way is clear my friends are waiting outside to help you”, they thanked her and were all beginning to leave when one of them stopped “in the big room, upstairs, there’s their boss, she’s in there with a guy…she’s” he gave Myrtle a face that said all she need to know.

“I’ll put an end to it, I’ll put so many bullets in her she won't know which to piss out of” she hissed.

She crept up the stairs and into the room where she saw the woman beginning to strip down a very familiar man…

“Ah hell nah” Myrtle snarled, she fired Maria and Lucky at the woman but her bullets nearly sunk in, it was as if her skin were like iron-bark.

The woman whipped around and fired back at her with a heavy 9mm submachine gun…then…strangely…began to sing…

“~… Better wait a minute Ya better hold the phone Better mind your manners Better change your tone Don't you threaten me, Girl Ya gotta lot of gall We gonna do things my way Or we won't do things at all~”

Myrtle hissed, got up and replied: “~… Ya don't know what you're messin' with.

You got no idea

You don't know what you're lookin' at

When you're lookin' here

Ya don't know what you're up against,

No, no way, no how

You don't know what you're messin' with,

But I'm gonna tell you now!~”

She holstered her handguns and swapped them for her Gobi sniper rifle, she began to dance around the woman as she came at her firing her 9mm and throwing her plants at her.

Green Mama snarled “~… Get this straight!

I'm just a mean green mother and I'm bad

I'm just a mean green mother

And it looks like you been had

I'm just a mean green mother,

So get off my back 'n get out my face,

'Cause I'm mean and green and I am bad

… Wanna save your skin, boy?

You wanna save your hide?

You wanna see tomorrow?

You better step aside

Better take a tip, boy

Want some good advice?

You better take it easy,

'Cause you're walkin' on thin ice~”

She hurled a combat knife straight into Myrtle’s shoulder.

Myrtle yanked it out and laughed as her “PHENIX myoclonic breeder” implant regenerated her cells, she looked down at the pretty blade and licked her own blood off of it for intimidation value…it worked.

Green Mama started to cower as she came towards her “~… Ya don't know what you're dealin' with

No, you never did

Ya don't know what you're lookin' at,

But that's tough titty, kid!

The lion don't sleep tonight,

And if you pull his tail, he roars

Ya say, "That ain't fair?" Ya say, "That ain't nice?"

Ya know what I say?

"Up yours!"

… Watch me now!

I'm just a mean metal motherfucker from outer space and I'm bad.

I'm just a mean metal motherfucker, a real disgrace,

And you've got me fightin' mad

I'm just a mean metal motherfucker from outer space,

Gonna trash your ass,

Gonna rock this place,

'Cause I'm mean and metal…and I am bad

… Don't you talk to me about old King Kong

You think he's the worst, well, you're thinkin' wrong

Don't talk to me about Frankenstein

He got a temper, ha! He ain't got mine

… You know I don't come from no black lagoon

I'm from past the stars and beyond the moon

You can keep The Thing, keep The It,

Keep The Creature, they don't mean shit

… I got one style, major moves

I got the stuff and I think that proves

You better move it out

Nature calls

You got the point?

I'm gonna bust your balls~”

She roared as she stabbed the knife into Green Mama’s eye…“Oi asshole Iam the only one who gets to do musical numbers!” she snapped.

She turned over to Cicero, he looked awful and absolutely drugged out of his mind.

“Fuck, let’s get you to Arcade, he can flush all that shit out of your system” she said as she picked him up bridal-style and carried him out.

[badbirchenergy]

Statistically speaking, Salamence are in that upper echelon of pokemon who possess insuperable strength, to levels capable of causing irreversible destruction when commanded with diligence. They're highly proficient at working around their array of weaknesses, and on equal enough terms to bring other "pseudo" legendary pokemon into submission. Though, such god-like power often comes bargained.

It is apparent, the moment Homura breaks from the colliding attacks and encircles the dragon with a veil of black smog, that the Salamence has reached her boiling point. Even through the rancid smoke that mantles the isle and forces May to shield her nose, Judy's blood-shot glare brought about by an intensifying rage daggers from within the obscurity.

This is bad, and May quickly realizes that trying to reign Judy in would be virtually impossible at this point. Best to lean into utilizing that explosive fury, to make the most of a dire situation. She shoots Gold a glance—a cautionary one, urging him to prepare for whatever might transpire.

The woman gulps down the lump in her throat. Her pokemon's bloodcurdling roar rings almost demonic as she whips around and tears through the smog, ready to rampage regardless of order.

"Judy! Savage Wing...!"

Her Salamence is already on the offensive. Through the putrid mist spewing from the Houndoom's jaws, the deafening beat of Judy's massive wings disperse the thick smog to reveal her opponent below. Snarling, slinging her long neck uncontrollably as draconic energy sparks from all over her body, the smog and sand airborne have no time to settle. Pummeling lower to where Homura lays in wait, a somersault proceeds the Salamence's deadly descent.

With wings sharper than razor blades, her erratic mannerisms soon streamline as Judy prepares to dive-bomb the hellhound into obliteration. May, stepping backwards across muddied sand, watches anxiously; for an opponent as stealthy as Gold's Houndoom, keeping an aerial distance was their advantage. Through teeth gritted, she releases a hiss as Judy's gargantuan frame prepares to impact where Homura's found herself, cornered between the surging seas and the oncoming assault.

Even if this maneuver deals the massive damage intended, they've opened the chance for Gold to gain the upper-hand. It's unfortunate, though May hadn't a choice otherwise.

She begins to lament the state the island is soon to find itself in, as Vega lowers down to the battlefield in the case their protection is needed.

Gold grunts. Trust May to find out a way to turn a potential weakness into a strength. He didn't want to tire Homura out so early in the battle, and having already been mid-stream when Judy switched to another attack meant she didn't have the lung capacity to match a clash.

A clash, however, is not what happened. The attacks collided and exploded out from the impact; the harsh blast of hot air enough to make Gold squint and shield his face. He whistles sharply, hoping Homura can hear him through the chaos.

The glow of the fires suddenly vanishes as Homura snaps her jaws shut and cuts off the attack. In the midst of the smoke and kicked-up sand, she's practically black-on-black. Judy hasn't moved out of the radius of that smoke, but there's no telling where she is at this point either - higher? Lower? Houndoom were used to fighting in the chaos of their own attacks, but that didn't make it a perfect answer.

But he has an idea, at least. He can at least give Homura a chance to be the one to set the pace.

Another sharp whistle, low then high. The Houndoom breaks from the chaos and into the sunlight trailing smoke, tongue hanging from her jaws as she waits for her next order at a trot. The clash had caught her, however slightly, but it wouldn't be enough to decide this match.

"Smog! Circle!"

Homura's jaws open as she keeps a steady trot, circling the dying storm made by the clashing of attacks and hosing it with acrid vapor. The air reeks of petrol and the acidic fog mingles with the chaos; it sticks to the skin and burns the eyes like pepper spray. Its painful and uncomfortable, though not especially powerful.

Not that its meant to be. The intent was to herd the dragon into a more advantageous position - she'll likely have to rely on May's directions for where Homura is, and the Smog isn't going to do her any favors if she chooses to try and use the chaos for cover.

Gold's playing more defensively than he usually would, but he can't risk giving May the upper hand so soon.

[lavegasvibes702]

https://www.redbubble.com/people/veganzombie/shop?ref=account-nav-dropdown

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

I’m new and if this is the right place can you do vinca comforting mc through a mental breakdown after things mc mom had said to her? If it’s too much then just ignore👍🏽

Written by: @evoedbd

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

“Alright, this is fucking unco, Rae.” Vinca’s voice was sharp; sharper than the little throwing blades adorning her striking red jumpsuit. In the peak of the Vegas sun, Vinca was a gleaming star; a blaze of fury and snark. The cut of her shirt revealed glistening alabaster skin; the finest marble shined by the finest scented oils. From sharp collarbones worthy of a renascence sculpture, down the valley between breasts full enough to make angel’s sob with envy. Then the smooth expanse of her belly, a surface which occasionally seemed to bubble with hidden muscle. The heaving expanse of her ribcage, lines which appeared between exhales.

“Sit down. Drink this.” Each command was almost barked. Harsh and short. Delivered from the international supermodel Vinca Wren. Rae didn’t know whether it was the heat, her own loneliness or her hysteria that brought such a vision to her, nor if Vinca herself recognised the irony of addressing thirst when she was the cause of it across the world. All she knew with terrifying clarity was that she had obeyed, accepting the iced water bottle and dropping to her haunches like an ever-faithful hound.

“Wha-”

“Ah, ah, ah. No questions.” Vinca cut her off, reaching out to press the pad of her finger to Rae’s lips. The bike Mechanic fell obediently silent, fighting the urge to rub her lips together at the irritating grain of sand that rubbed across them. When had Vinca put her hands anywhere near dirt? Wait… she’d said no questions. Why was Rae asking questions? Before she could freefall into her doubts, Vinca seemed to read it. The model withdrew her decorated finger with a softened expression.

“Drink. Then, spill.” She urged. Despite the strength of her tone, the power of her posture and … personality… Vinca’s words rung like a plea in Rae’s ears. The mechanic paused, taking another moment to inspect Vinca. There she was, on her knees in the sand of the Canyon, having chased Rae out onto the bike trails. Vinca was all high heels, platform shoes, clothes worth more than Rae’s monthly paycheck, sullied by sand. And concern. Vinca embodied concern. The aloof tilt of her mouth wasn’t true; delicious-looking, candy-pink lips falling a bit too far into a frown. The darkness of her eyeliner couldn’t hide the shadows in hypnotic blue eyes. This Vinca was not somebody Rae had ever seen before, at least, not directed at her.

The mechanic realised what a mess she must be. Her tie-dyed hoodie flapping around her elbows, cheap t-shirt hanging off of one sunburnt shoulder. Her face had to be a mess, after all her sobbing. She could feel the itchiness across her eyes, the dried caking of tears and snot down her cheeks, all the way to the point of her chin. Despite this, Vinca Wren had chased her. HER. Rae Lang. A dropout, bike instructor and mechanic living in a cheap apartment above her workplace with her single mother. That gave her the courage to try and smile, to dare utter a deflecting line.

“The drink?”

Vinca literally growled in frustration. Her hands came up to her pixie cut, sweeping the longer, dyed bangs out of her eyes. Nails dug into her scalp as if she could wrench her own thoughts out of her mind through the roots of her platinum hair.

“You are the most dense, stubborn woman I have ever met. You didn’t even cry when demons attacked you. We can’t have your eyes all swollen, that’s just a travesty. Whoever or whatever has made you this upset needs to be dealt with.” What started out frustration quickly melted back into concern. Hesitantly, as if she might break Rae, Vinca reached out. She ran her own fingers through Rae’s hair, across her temples, sweeping the chaotic locks away from the Asian’s face. Whatever Vinca saw there must have hurt her, given the subtle hitch in her breath before she slinked closer. How a near six-foot woman could slink on her knees was damn confusing, but Vinca Wren perfected the art. The movements. The attitude. The aura. Catwoman eat her heart out. It was almost feline how Vinca drew close, enough that she sat hip to hip with Rae.

“It’s my mom. We got into an argument, and things got spicy.” Rae confessed, letting herself melt into Vinca’s side. Any weariness vanished the moment Vinca’s arm wrapped around Rae’s shoulders, guiding her into a comforting closeness. Vinca’s nails found their way into Rae’s hair, delicately scratching across her scalp. This time, the motion was intentional, a gentle caress that drew the wounded sound from Rae’s throat, the weight off her chest.

“She said she was disappointed with me for dropping out of med school.”

That earned a derisive snort.

“Right. Because a doctor is SO much more useful than saving the world from Demons.” Vinca was unapologetically snarky. That earned a soft snort from Rae, a wet and wounded sound of amusement. So many people may have been touchy about such things, would have offered apologies and comforts. Vinca didn’t do that. She struck back, bigger and harder than ever, using the truth like a sledgehammer from a rival act.

“She thinks I’m being reckless with the act. That I’m trying to hurt myself like some…” Rae grasped for the words, unable to find what she was looking for. She looked imploringly to Vinca, pleading with the younger woman to rip the truth from her too. To drag every dark thought into the light, just as she did upon the stage. Just as she did in every brutal fight. There were so many shadows, so much confusion, yet Vinca usually brought clarity. Why wasn’t she being clarity now?

“I can read minds, you know. I’d know if you were being stupid or planning on kicking it on stage.”

“I don’t get it. She loves Yvette and Lazarus.”

“Everybody does.” Vinca agreed. It was true. Yvette was so painfully charming, despite her aloofness. She captivated without a single touch. She burned; azure fire held back by the weight of humanity. And Lazarus had somehow swept Rae’s mother off her feet with his gentle words and polite mannerisms. It didn’t hurt that his abs could be mistaken for a cheese grater and that he never wore a closed shirt… ok, so her mother was a cougar. Rae couldn’t exactly blame her. But she could disagree on one thing.

“But she thinks you’re dangerous.”

“I can’t argue with that. My fashion is pretty sharp.” Vinca delivered the line flawlessly, only a twitch at the corner of her mouth, showing any amusement. Rae could only shake her head in disbelief at Vinca’s jest. She didn’t get it. Didn’t take it seriously. And why should she? Vinca Wren was a worldly marvel, an international superstar. While Rae showed overweight tourists the easiest bike trails, Vinca Wren was in London. While Rae had to deal with overly entitled customers, Vinca Wren was sitting beside leopards in the finest lingerie or setting the trend for summer bathing suits surrounded by lions. Whilst Rae had a cougar for a mother, Vinca Wren sat amongst actual, literal cougars in suits that could make grown men sweat or gowns which would make grown women sob with envy. Vinca Wren was Pride. The big bad sin. The mind-reading, knife-wielding, drop-dead gorgeous extraordinaire. Why would she care what a bike shop owner thought?

“She thinks you’re just using me, that I’ve been swept up in the glamour, and I might get hurt when you g-get bored. That when you’re all done with the bike tricks, you won’t really care for me.” And there it was. The truth, laid out for Vinca to weaponize. To wield. All Rae’s unspoken fears laid bare. To rip the world apart with at a whim, all with her devastating smirk.

“Bullsh-” Vinca cut her answering growl off, clamping her jaw shut. A breath, composure reclaimed, emotion hidden behind a professional mask.

“… I mean, what do you think?” A submission. That made Rae blink. Vinca Wren had just shut down her own opinion to give Rae the floor.

“Can’t you read my mind?” Rae demanded on instinct, earning another derisive snort and a blasé flick of Vinca’s wrist.

“Duh! But like, invasion of privacy much?”

There was something about the way Vinca said it that didn’t sit right with Rae.  A waver in her usually impeccably aloof act. Her sharp features were just that little too youthful.  Her lips didn’t quite reach the notes of indifference, nor did her nose point quite as high in the air. Then, her eyes… wider. So impossibly bright blue, like a summer sky.  So devastatingly vulnerable for a blink, before they narrowed slightly, adding to an angular appearance.

“Are you scared what you’ll find?” Rae couldn’t help but fire back, drawn into the banter. It felt dangerous, like throwing herself into a pit of knives and daring them to cut her, but the reward was worthwhile. The briefest flash of surprise in Vinca’s eyes, a tinge of colour to her cheeks, and that dangerous, not quite a pout, not quite a frown; an expression which promised pain and horror upon those who had incurred her wrath. The little crease in her brow, the way her eyes hardened and narrowed, honed to a razor's edge. Somehow, knowing Vinca, that expression was just downright adorable… like a kitten threatening a toy mouse.

“I’m not scared!” Vinca declared just a touch too vehemently to be truthful. There it was. Pride. The sin Vinca had taken on, in a way she still hadn’t disclosed. Not fully. She had killed someone, that much Rae knew. Someone evil. Someone who had the world fooled and was using his power to hurt everyone Vinca loved. But Rae knew there was more. There had to be. It was too raw a wound to be a completed chapter.

“Vinca Wren. I know when you’re lying by now.” Rae commented, refusing to let the moment she saw go. Rae had seen the photoshoots, the advertisements, the endless endorsements of this larger than life woman. Vinca Wren was sold as sex and danger; a mystery. A real-life Selena Kyle. A sin above humanity. How many people got to catch a glimpse of the woman beneath? The young, loyal woman who would give everything to protect what she loved? How many people ever got to see Vinca crack? Even Yvette seemed to look to Vinca as a rock, mindless to the fact life was like water. Mindless to how water eroded Vinca, until only sex and danger remained. What she had to be. What everybody saw. Just how did the world see Vinca? How easily did they forget how she hurt?

“Fine, whatever!” Vinca’s confession was a deflection, delivered with another attempt at indifferent even in an explosion of irritation.

“So I’m anxious about what I’ll see. Happy now, you little sadist?” There was no heat to her words. The beginnings of a fond smile tugged at her lips, even as she straightened enough to loom over Rae, chin held high in a haughty fashion. Despite her appearance of looking down, Vinca’s eyes glistened with scarcely restrained amusement. Something rarer than diamonds. Sapphires amidst the clay and sands.

“Vinca.” If one name could be a loaded sentence, it was the way Rae whispered that name. A prayer. Imploring a goddess to pay heed to an ant. And heed the goddess paid. For one bright, blistering moment of crystal clarity, Vinca’s world was only Rae. Vinca gave her all to the mechanic, hanging on the unspoken words, searching and fearing simultaneously. Rae swallowed. What could she even say? What words did she have that could sum up the complication, which was Vinca Wren? How could she show the duality of intents, the clash of meaning to every word that could ever describe her? Snarky meant wonderful, and bitchy meant saintly, selfless. Vinca redefined every insult one might spit; turned the world on its head, twisted it upon its axis. She was the brightest darkness. The darkest star. She was the shadow of the sun because she shone too intensely to be anything so simple as sunshine.

“Whenever you’re ready, look at what I think of you. Until then, I’ll try to find the right words.” Rae wanted to cuss herself out even as she spoke sweetly, invited Vinca inside yet again. Stupid. How was she so stupid? She’d had Vinca’s attention, had the chance to try to fix everything Vinca hated about herself. Had the chance to begin to untangle her own jumbled concepts of the woman. And what had she done? Chickened out. Left Vinca without answers and pressured her into something she clearly wasn’t comfortable with.

She was shocked to hear an amused huff, as if Vinca was attempting not to laugh. There was an easiness to her presence, a tenderness even in the way she sidled closer, using her own body as a pillar for Rae to lean on. For once, Vinca’s snark was delivered lightly, lips pulled into something resembling an unpractised smile as she delivered a deadpan line.

“I’ll buy you a dictionary.”

“Make sure it has snarky in it.” Rae needled lightly, giving Vinca a poke in her exposed ribs. The Pride assassin was warm, roasting even, yet so soft and smooth beneath even that poke. Once more, Rae was struck by how unusual their blossoming friendship was, how far apart their worlds truly were. Cultures, countries, paychecks. Everything considered to make the world turn. They were so very vastly different, yet here they were. Sitting in the sand. Sweaty and snotty. Making bad jokes and bridging their different upbringings one awkward syllable at a time.

“It’s a dictionary. That word be ancient. If it isn’t in there, I demand a refund.” Vinca pulled what might be dubbed a Karen face, complete with severe frown and haughtily raised brow. For one. Two. Three seconds, there was silence. Then, cracks. Vinca’s lips twitched, Rae’s breath caught in her nose. Then laughter. Rae laughed, freely and openly, right alongside Vinca. The Pride assassin’s laugh, a genuine laugh, was a far cry from delicate. It was the soft chortle of a lioness. A sound which was soft yet never let anybody forget the dangers of the being. Rae didn’t care. She continued to giggle and snort long after Vinca stopped, almost oblivious to the tender, thoughtful expression etched across Vinca’s face. Almost. Rae caught it, like a glimpse of a falling star, and wished upon it. Wished to understand it. For once, for clarity to be cast upon itself.

“… Look…” Vinca broached, voice unusually hesitant. Thoughtful and soft. So very quiet, yet so unmistakably her.

“Your mom cares about you. She’s worried. I get that. I’m not the type of person you want around for my sparkling personality. But you also have to make your own choices and mistakes. That's part of growing up. And if you tell anybody about this, I will stab you, but you’re pretty ok. You haven’t fucked up that badly… yet.”

She had to add the yet. She couldn’t be soft, not if she wanted everybody safe. Soft wasn’t safe for anybody… yet. That didn’t mean she didn’t relish how close she had gotten, how close she could come. Enough to taste the humanity. Enough to break her heart once more.

“Vinca…” Rae began, unable to find any other word, any other sound even to begin her sentence. Summoned, Vinca’s gaze turned back to the mechanic, meeting her eyes in a silent question. A silent dare. Under the weight of such a gaze, Rae cracked. The corners of her mouth pulled towards her ears, curling into a wicked little grin that sent Vinca into high alert. She tensed, calculating. Instead, she found herself flabbergasted by a rather playful observation.

“You’re really terrible at this comforting thing.”

“No shit. What do you want from me? Professional advice?” She demanded sharply, brows arched dangerously. Her lips peeled away from her teeth ever so subtly, an instinctual warning. Just like a timid hound trying to prove it was tough, Rae realised. Vinca’s knee jerk reaction was fear. Denial. Aimed at something behind the words.

“Maybe just a hug?” Rae’s request was simple enough, though it still threw Vinca for a loop.

“Seriously? What are you, twelve?” She barked; her laughter far less joyous. What she didn’t expect was the wounded expression across Rae’s face… no. That was a lie. She had expected the sad tilt to the Asian’s fine lips, along with the foggy glistening across suddenly unfocused eyes. What Vinca hadn’t expected was the way it would hurt. She flinched, unable to stop her body from reacting despite all her training. Only one person ever asked for hugs from her. One glistening, gorgeous person who Vinca herself kept tearing down. One person, she’d given everything for, including their relationship. One bright, stubborn little girl who… who reminded her entirely too much of Rae.

“… Fine.” She relented, twisting until she could gather the small woman to her chest. It was overwhelming in the best and worst of ways. Finally, after so long, she had someone she could care for. Even if that only lasted a moment, she had the comfort of contact. Of someone wanting innocent contact with her. She wasn’t reading lewd thoughts and desires, nor having to be on guard in case skin touched her. She could just… be. Exist in a moment. That was enough for Vinca to squeeze tighter, to burrow her nose into the crown of Rae’s head with an entirely too soft sigh of her own. Then, she bristled.

“For someone so sharp, you’re really a big softy.” Rae sighed, voice a million miles away. Lost in a moment, Vinca could never fully surrender to. It was too soft. Too dangerous. Too tempting. She wanted to withdraw, like a tiger with its paw snared in a trap, Vinca wanted to flee… but she couldn’t. Rae’s arms were wrapped around her, squeezing like a boa constrictor. Hands, gentler than the finest Masseuse, were like the teeth of a trap digging into her flesh. There she was, a soul sold to hell, stuck in the embrace of someone angelic. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

“If you tell anyone…” she began, hissing the words into the baby hairs behind Rae’s ear. She shuddered, unable to conceal a reaction at the heated breath, the closeness… the sickly promise in Vinca’s empty threat.

“I know, you’ll stab me.” Rae chuckled, simply squeezing a little tighter, nuzzling that little bit closer. Vinca relented further, sighing, slouching into the contact.

“Seriously though…” Rae began, withdrawing enough to see the startled expression upon Vinca’s face as she muttered the next word.

It wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t the opening Rae had hoped for, nor the closure Vinca may have sought. Yet, there was a door opened. A tender olive branch extended; a sprig, too defiant to die in the blazing heat. That little spark, that unspoken potential drew a matching smile to Rae’s lips, gave her the courage to accept the comfort Vinca offered, even knowing that she risked being cut. Perhaps bleeding would be worth it to have a friend as loyal as Pride… no, as loyal as Vinca Wren.

“Thanks.”

[unholyobsessions]

And life goes on (though not always in the right direction)

Spencer Reid AU

Description: Spencer Reid has lived a horrible life, and every time he thinks it’s getting better, it somehow gets worse. 

Warnings: Bullying, Self harm, Suicide, Kidnapping/blood, Rape/Sexual assault, Depression, Death, Cussing, Drug use (if there are any others please message me and I will gladly add them. There is no warning too small.)

Word Count: 5.4k

The first time Spencer gets beat up it is his eight birthday. He doesn’t celebrate. His dad gets “stuck at work” (in reality he is out cheating on his wife with his assistant) and his mom forgets. He goes to the park with a book knowing that would be the best way to spend his birthday. A group of neighborhood kids walks up to him and asks him if he wants to hang out. He, of course, says yes.

Oh stupid and naive little boy.

They guide him to the bleachers and push him to the ground. Spencer looks up at them through teary eyes and they laugh. The first punch breaks his glasses and the second breaks his nose. The kicks against his abdomen bruise his ribs and cause him to throw up his breakfast. They all keep laughing. It isn’t until an hour later when they finally get tired and leave. Spencer curls himself into a fetal position and tries not to swallow the blood gushing from his nose. 

He walks alone to the hospital. His mother doesn’t notice he’s gone until the doctor calls her and asks her to pick up her son. His dad shows up with her. Spencer thinks he looks embarrassed. He refuses to meet his eyes. At first he thinks it’s because of his now crooked nose that will certainly need surgery but he later realizes that he is embarrassed of him. He is ashamed of who his son is. That is the first time that he cries himself to sleep. He gets beat up regularly after that. 

. . .

Spencer is ten when his father leaves. He tries to convince him to stay. He keeps reciting statistics about how a divorce could affect a child but all his father does is look at him with disgust and walk out the door. His mother has one of her episodes later that same night. Spencer can’t bring himself to calm her down so he locks his door and picks up his physics text book. Half way through the chapter he feels tears falling down his cheeks. He does his best to wipe them away but it’s no use. He allows himself to cry as he thinks about what his father leaving will inevitably cause. His mother is in no condition to hold down a job and he has no way of making money to pay for food and electricity. He’s glad that their medical insurance takes care of all of his mother’s medication. He eventually settles down and brings his blankets over his body, the distant sounds of his mother practicing for a lecture that will never come lulling him to sleep. 

The next day he goes straight to the local newspaper station and asks if he could have a job delivering the papers to the local neighborhoods. The owner is apprehensive at first until Spencer explains his situation. The man sighs and hands him a bag filled to the brim with the day’s news. Spencer rushes out of the building and jumps on his bike. He delivers newspapers everyday at six in the morning for the next two years.

He becomes used to hunger. He can’t buy books anymore as he is barely scraping together enough money to have a decent meal everyday. He never complains though. He forces the tears away and keeps moving forward. Things will get better. 

. . .

When he’s thirteen when he leaves for university. Cal-Tech. It’s the start of a new life. He enjoys his classes and regularly converses with his professors. Every time he gets the chance he takes the trip down to Las Vegas to check on his mom. She always assures him that she is perfectly fine (even though she isn’t) and he needs to stop worrying so much. 

He gets a job at the library. He puts the books back in their respective shelves and his eidetic memory certainly makes it easier. It isn’t fun, not in the slightest, but it pays better than selling newspapers and he’s in desperate need of money. He stays at the library between shifts and works on his homework. He uses the library’s computer since he can’t afford his own. 

He excels in all of his classes and makes extra money out of tutoring. The older students don’t take offense to a fourteen year old correcting them on their mistakes, for that he is extremely thankful. Still, it doesn’t mean he has friends. Most twenty-year-olds don’t want to spend their free time hanging it out with a know it all pre-teen. 

. . .

He slides a razor blade against his arm for the first time when he is fourteen. He doesn’t know exactly what makes him do it. The stress of college at such a young age or maybe the fact that he is completely alone in California. He considers the fact that it may be from the bruise forming on his lower abdomen, courtesy of a group of Frat guys. Maybe it’s all of the above. 

The only thing he knows for sure is that he relishes in the pain it gives him. It isn’t the same type of pain he feels whenever he gets beat up, no this feels better. He gives himself two cuts before hiding the blade and cleaning himself off. He wraps a bandage over his forearm and goes to class. 

The next day he sits in the bathroom and debates whether he should do it again. He knows he shouldn’t. He is aware that this is not good for him. He thinks about going to the campus therapist but quickly shuts down the idea. He can’t talk about what he is going through. He has no right to feel the way he does. He is going to a prestigious college on a full ride scholarship. He is passing all of his classes, he finds them easy. But he can’t help the way he feels. He looks at himself in the mirror and feels disgusted with what he sees. 

He has no one. No one to take care of him. No one to talk to. No one to ask him how his day went. He understands why his father left. He wouldn’t want to have himself as a son either. 

He slides the blade three times. 

Two weeks later he is up to six cuts per day. The scars are ugly but Spencer can’t bring himself to care. He avoids looking in the mirror, it only makes the desire to feel the cold blade on his skin worse. No, he isn’t suicidal, at least he doesn’t think so, but he can’t help but throw his head back as blood gushes down his arm. 

. . .

He is sixteen when his mother dies. He has just finished his first PhD and comes home to visit and celebrate. At one point he goes out to the store and comes back to find his mother on the floor. 

She isn’t breathing. 

He eyes the bottle of pills on the floor and then looks to the counter to see another one. 

They’re both empty.

He cries. He cries for over an hour before he gets up and starts packing his stuff. He takes all of his money as well as some clothes and other necessities. He calls the paramedics on his way out the door. He takes the first bus out of Las Vegas and never looks back. 

He doesn’t return to Cal-Tech. Social Services finding him will be too easy if he does. He’s a minor and his guardian is dead. He has two options. He can either find a way to contact his dad (which social services probably does) and go live with him. He doesn’t dwell on the thought long. Option two is to allow himself to be turned over to the state and be inevitably placed in an overcrowded foster home that only takes children in for money. He dismisses the thought quickly. He ends up choosing option number three. 

He runs away. He ends up in Arizona. He doesn’t remember how many buses it takes him to get there. He stays at a cheap motel and has to resist the urge to walk to the bathroom and open old scars. It’s been months, he tells himself, you have to be strong. He makes a call to the University of Oxford. They had offered him a scholarship when he had originally applied when he was thirteen. He declined their offer, obviously, and decided to stay closer to home. Closer to his mom. Who is dead now. He shakes his head and forces himself to stop thinking about it. He requests to talk to the Dean. He gives his name and he is quickly transferred to his office. 

Yes, they do have a place for him in school. Of course, they would be honored to have him complete his studies there. 

Spencer hangs up the phone and calls the airline. One way ticket to England please. The next day he lugs his belongings all the way to the airport, not having enough money for a cab. He boards the plane and stares out the window officially saying goodbye to his life in the states. 

. . .

Maeve is dead. He is twenty years old and he is tied to a chair staring at his dead fiancée. He sees the blood pooling around her body and his throat feels raw from all the screaming. This isn’t supposed to happen. His life was finally good, stable. The first real glimpse of happiness he’s had since he was ten. Life can’t have gotten this bad. 

They have both been held captive for four days. Spencer being forced to watch as the man who took them repeatedly raped the woman he is in love with. Forced to endure having the shit beat out of him. Having to endure the feeling of the needle piercing his skin and ultimately enjoying the high that came afterward. 

The man smirks at him, the gun still in his hand. 

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” His voice comes out hoarse, not even he can recognize it. The man simply laughs and walks over to him. He holds the gun to his head and Spencer closes his eyes. He’s going to die. He wants to die. He craves the feeling of vast emptiness that came with death. He doesn’t think that he can deal with any more pain. 

The pressure of the gun leaves his head. He looks up and the man smiles at him, but there is no sincerity in his eyes. He hears the man saying something along the lines of “death is too easy” before plunging another needle in his vain. Spencer’s eyes roll back as a feeling of ecstasy overcomes his body. He hears the man walk away before he passes out. He wakes up to see officers untying him. He sees paramedics close the black bag over Maeve’s face. He feels tears fall down his face. 

“No,” he repeats over and over. He hears paramedics ask him his name. Does he remember how he got here? Can he tell them where he lives? Their questions fall on deaf ears. All Spencer can think about is how when he eventually gets out of the hospital he will have to go back to an empty apartment. He will have to pack up Maeve’s stuff. He will have to face her parents and tell them what happened. He will have to tell her dad that he will never get to walk his little girl down the aisle and her mom that she would never take her dress shopping. Spencer would never meet the eyes of the woman he loves as she reaches the altar. He will never get to say ‘I do’ and call her Mrs. Reid. 

He finds a dealer as soon as he gets home. 

. . .

He’s twenty two when he gets his fifth PhD. He has been clean for a little under a year and it is all thanks to his boss. He’s been living with him since he moved out of his apartment. He works at the local police station. He gives profiles on serial criminals. No one is ever going to have to go through what he went through. Not if he can help it. 

He based the past two years of his schooling solely on his new career choice. He gets an internship two months after the incident. 

He’s high most of the time. 

He still passes all of his classes with flying colors but his new boss knows that something is up with him, even if he has only known the kid for a month. The police chief approaches him one day when Spencer is sitting on his desk going over a cold case file. He invites him to dinner at his house and Spencer is both relieved and worried. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to go back to his god forsaken apartment for a few more hours and worried because he doesn’t know how bad his craving will get. He has developed a routine. Shoot up, go to school, go to work, come home at five, shoot up again. 

An hour into dinner and his boss asks him the question. Are you okay? It’s a loaded question, they’re both aware but Spencer notes that the man is genuinely concerned for his well being. He breaks down. He tells him everything. He doesn’t know why he is sobbing in front of a man who he has only known for a short while. Why he is telling him all of his problems. Why he rolls up both of his sleeves and shows him the scars that graze his inner elbow, and the ones that have healed over his forearm. 

From a psychological perspective he knows why he is doing it, why he allows himself to be so vulnerable in front of the man. He longs for a father figure. For a man to comfort him and care for him. He wants what his father never gave him as a child, what he never gave him as a teenager, what he never gave him as an adult. 

“I’m sorry sir,” Spencer sniffles. He is being unprofessional.

“You don’t have to call me sir, you know? You can call me Roger.” Spencer nods, not having the strength to speak up again. “You’re staying the night and then tomorrow we’ll go to your apartment to pack up your stuff and you’re moving in. I’m going to help you get clean.” 

Spencer is shocked but can’t bring himself to argue. He is exhausted. The next day they do just what Roger said they would do. It is a long journey. He will stay clean for about three weeks before something happens that makes him fall back to his disgusting habit. Roger will sometimes come home to see Spencer sobbing in the bathroom, a syringe lying next to him. He immediately pulls him close and assures him that it’s okay.  

He beats it though. It will be a year next month since the last time he had any drug in his system. He’s proud of himself. 

Roger walks over to him as he closes his phone. They are in one of their co-worker’s backyard. They all insisted that they needed to celebrate his new achievement. Spencer had rolled his eyes but accepted their kind gesture and is now sipping his drink and making conversation when Roger calls his name. 

Roger takes a second to mull over the progress Spencer made. He’s proud of him. He loves the kid like his own but the future of their father-son relationship will be determined what he is about to say. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Spencer asks casually, pushing a hand through his long hair. 

“I just got a call from Interpol,” he pauses, Spencer freezes. “They have offered me a position.” He waits for Spencer’s reaction. 

“You’re leaving.” Spencer can’t believe this is happening. Not again. He starts to wonder if life will ever allow him to have even a sliver of happiness. 

“I am.” Spencer avoids looking at him. “But I want you to come with me.” That catches his attention. 

“What?”

“I told them that if they want me then they will also have to offer a position to the smartest and most hard working man I know. I made it clear that I am not going to take the position unless they put you on my team. So what do you say? Want to work at Interpol with me?” 

Spencer is shocked to say the least. It’s a great opportunity. Tears well up in his eyes as he looks at the man who cares for him like a son. The man who encouraged him to beat his addiction, who makes him feel like he is worth something. He nods his head and hugs him. He hears their co-workers cheering behind them and he lets out a laugh. Maybe life will allow him to be happy. 

. . .

Wrong. Life always likes to give Spencer a nice kick in the ass. He has been working at Interpol with Roger for about a year and a half and at the ripe age of twenty-four he is one of their most valued members. He is seated quietly at his desk, nursing a horrible migraine when a file is dropped in front of him. He looks up at Roger and sees the sympathy in his eyes. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before picking up the file. 

His breath hitches in his throat. 

Couple kidnapped and held for four days. Woman shot execution style with evidence of repeated sexual assault. Male beaten brutally with traces of narcotics in his system. 

He can’t breath. He tries but he can’t seem to make his lungs work. He starts to hyperventilate. He can hear Roger saying his name but he can’t focus enough to respond. He’s back. It’s been four years and there has been no cases with even a similar M.O. He is aware that he is having a panic attack but he can’t bring himself to even try and match Roger’s breathing. His inner elbow itches. 

No.

It would make things easier. No dealing with the pain. 

No. No. No. I won’t do it. Not again.

It’s only once. You want to. You’re weak. 

No. I’ve come so far, I will not give it up. 

Then how about the blade? Just like when you were fourteen. Weak little Spencer Reid. You’re pathetic.  

NO!

He doesn’t remember passing out. 

He wakes up with Roger standing over him. He apologizes and Spencer reassures him that he is fine. He wants to work the case. No, not wants, needs to work the case.  Roger refuses. But he knows the case better than anyone. They argue for a while. In the end Spencer wins (he always wins). 

Roger informs him that a team of profilers from the FBI is coming to help solve the case. The killer wasn’t dormant, he went to the United States and continued killing there. Same M.O. Only last week did he return to the U.K. 

“The FBI has worked this case and they want to continue working it,” Roger explains. 

Spencer nods and walks back to his desk. He starts going over the file and victims. He realizes that his name isn’t listed. The victims start with his first kill in the U.S. He feels relief at the fact. He studies the file for a few more hours before Roger tells him to call it a night. They walk to the car together and head home. 

The next day the FBI team arrives. The Behavioral Analysis Unit. Spencer has heard of them, he even studied some of their cases when he first started profiling. They walk in and go straight to Roger, completely ignoring Spencer. He’s not surprised. Strangers never seem to realize that he actually works here. He doesn’t exactly have a sign over his head that reads “I have an IQ of 187 and have five PhDs. I also have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

Roger greets them and introduces them to Spencer. 

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid, he’s my lead on the case and my second in command. If I’m not available, anything he says goes.” The team all wears various expressions of shock. 

A white male with dark hair, who Spencer assumes is the leader, breaks first and introduces himself and the rest of them. “I’m Agent Hotchner, these are SSAs Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Greenaway, and Prentiss and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” He holds out his hand and Spencer hesitates. 

“Oh uh I don’t shake hands.” Roger snorts fondly while the team all assumes the Dr. to be a pretentious asshole (he isn’t) (most of the time). They were all led to the conference room which Spencer has already set up. There are two maps on the walls, one of England and the other of the U.S. There are tacks placed at the places where all the victims were held. 

The FBI has been here for three weeks and are no closer to catching the killer. Two other couples have been taken. Spencer never goes to the crime scene. He is barely holding it together, the itch on his arm getting stronger as he clutches his sobriety coin, he can’t bear to look at the scene that is almost identical to the one he found himself in four years ago. Of course the team doesn’t know this. They all think that he doesn’t have the guts to do the job. They often find themselves discussing the young man’s incompetence and how if he can’t handle the case then he shouldn’t work it. They always stop the conversation when he walks in though. One day however, they don’t hear his approaching footsteps as they make fun of him. 

“How old is he? 15? The kid is too damn young to be working a job like this.” Morgan pops a peanut in his mouth after speaking. 

“He probably fucked his way into his position,” JJ says. 

“I mean the way he handles the files. He can’t even look at the pictures. He looks like a baby watching a horror movie,” Prentiss laughs. 

“I still don’t understand. Who let him in here? This isn’t a daycare or a kindergarten.” All three agents laugh at JJ’s comment before a voice shuts them up. 

“You don’t know me.” Their heads snap up to see the man in question standing in the doorway. “You have no right to judge me.” The glare he is giving them is scarier than Hotch’s. 

“Kid we-” That draws the line. 

“I’m not a kid Agent Morgan. The only people acting like children in this building are you three. You have no idea what I have been through. I’m sure you wouldn’t even be able to handle a fraction of the shit show that is my life.” His breathing is heavy and his voice is rising along with his temper. 

“We’re sorry it’s just that you’re so young. We didn’t think-” Spencer cuts Prentiss off. 

“Exactly. You didn’t think did you? Well let me enlighten you. I was brutally bullied since I was eight. My father left me and my paranoid schizophrenic mother when I was ten. I had to work to pay the bills and to be able to have a meal at least once a day. Then I went to college and things got better right? Not really since I still had no friends so I decided self harm was the way to go. Oh and my mother died when I was sixteen. The only person who ever gave a shit about me, killed herself. I came home one day and she was lying on the ground with an empty bottle of pills next to her. I packed up and left because I refused to go with my father or go into foster care. Do you think my life got better after that?” He waits to see if they will answer. They don’t. 

“Well for a while it did. I met the love of my life and we were going to get married. And then we were kidnapped. I was tied to a chair and drugged regularly as I watched my fiancée get raped. Then the psychopath put a gun to her head and shot her in front of me. I watched as the blood pooled around her body and I kept wishing that he had killed me as well. I kept doing drugs. Believe it or not, four days of getting shot up with dilaudid made me an addict. It took me a year to be able to get clean. And when I finally thought it was over a file got dropped on my desk. He was back. The reason for my nightmares, the man my therapist keeps trying to make me forget, was back,” he paused and took a deep breath. “So I’m sorry agents if I can’t go and examine the scene. I’m sorry that I get a little jittery when looking at the case files. But don’t you ever accuse me of not being able to do my job. I’m damn well good at what I do, despite my age. Yes I am only twenty-four but you three have made it quite clear that I am much more mature and capable of doing this job than you are.” With that he turns around, only to come face to face with Roger. He nods at him, a sign that he can leave. Spencer walks out of the conference room and toward the elevator. He gets in, waits for the doors to close and bursts into tears. 

Back in the conference room Morgan, Jareau, and Prentiss are faced with an angry Unit Chief and a fuming Director. 

“I want you out of here,” Roger looks at the three agents before turning back to Hotch. “I will not allow you to continue working this case with us unless they leave right now. They should get suspended for the trouble they have caused. Dr. Reid is one of Interpol’s greatest assets and I will not tolerate three strangers who got here three weeks ago to stand here and insult him. So Agent Hotchner unless they are sent home, your team is no longer welcomed here. And I will make sure to report this to your Section Chief and the FBI Director.” Roger walks out of the room and goes after his son. 

Hotch turns back to his team and none of them think they have ever seen him look as angry as he does that very moment. “Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, pack your bags, you're leaving. You’re suspended two weeks without pay, effective immediately. After your suspension is over you’ll have a meeting with the director to discuss your future at the Bureau. If it were up to me the three of you would be fired, but sadly it isn’t. You have shamed and dishonored the reputation of the Bureau and frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if Interpol severed ties with us. Now I am going to apologize to Dr. Reid and Roger and I hope to see you gone by the time I come back. I do not want to hear another word out of you unless it is an apology.” Hotch leaves the room but not before sending them one last glare. Rossi, Elle, and Garcia all look at them and follow after Hotch. To say they are disgusted by their teammates’ behavior is an understatement. 

Spencer is inside his car, sniffling and trying to get himself together. He doesn’t know what came over him inside the conference room but all the stress from the past three weeks took a toll on him and he found the perfect outlet to release it. A knock on his window startles him. Roger smiles before opening the door and sitting in the passenger seat. They sit in silence for a while, neither of them sure how to approach the conversation. 

“You’re not in any trouble,” Roger starts. “If you hadn’t yelled at them son, I was going to and we both know how that would have ended up.” They both chuckle and fall into a comfortable silence. 

“Do you think we’ll catch him?” Spencer speaks up. 

“With you working the case? There is no doubt in my mind.” 

They do catch him. Two weeks later Spencer is standing in an abandoned warehouse in front of the unsub with his revolver raised. The man, Tommy Montgomery, had his gun at the woman’s head, a sick smile on his lips. 

“I remember you,” Montgomery exclaimed. “I killed your fiancée four years ago, didn’t I?” 

Spencer could kill him right now. “Put the gun down. You don’t have to do this. We can help you if you just put the gun down.” Spencer recites the speech that he has said dozens of times to dozens of criminals. 

“Help me?” the man laughed. “You don’t want to help me. You want me to rot in a cell for the rest of my life. We both know there is only one way this can end.” Montgomery raises his gun at Spencer but he isn’t fast enough. 

Spencer unloads three rounds straight to his heart. He lowers his weapon and rushes over to him. He places two fingers above his collarbone--he will never admit that nothing brought him greater joy than realizing that he had no pulse. He goes to untie the male victim as paramedics rush inside. Roger walks over to Spencer once they are outside and pulls him into a hug. 

“It’s over son.” 

Spencer cries and clings onto him as sobs rack his body. He separates himself and takes a few calming breaths. He walks over to the BAU team, which now only consists of three members and their tech analyst. He thanks them profusely and the three of them reassure him that he has nothing to thank them for. Hotch looks at the young genius for a second before making an offer. 

“You know we have three spots open on our team now. If you want to, you are always welcomed at the FBI.” 

“Oh,” he doesn’t know what to think. He hasn’t gone back since he was sixteen. Was he ready? “Thank you really. I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to the states at this moment but maybe in a few months or years, if you’ll still have me, I’ll gladly join you.” Spencer holds out his hand and Hotch laughs before taking it and giving it a firm shake. 

“Good luck Dr. Reid.” 

“You too.” 

. . .

Five months later Spencer goes back to Oxford. He’s doing better. His cravings don't come as often and when he looks in the mirror, he isn’t ashamed or disgusted at what he sees. His therapist only requests to see him once a week now and Roger doesn’t hover over him at work.

He stands in the cemetery next to the church he was going to be wed at. He walks across the wet grass, scrunching his face at the squishing noises his shoes make. He faces Maeve’s grave and a shaky breath leaves his lips. He sits down next to the tombstone and starts talking. He tells her about everything that happened in the past months and how he finally avenged her death. He tells her about his progress and how his mental health has improved so much since he last talked to her. He sits there for hours during the day and well into the night until he runs out of things to say. 

“You would be so proud of me sweetheart. But now to what I actually came here to say. I came to say goodbye.” He takes a deep breath as a few tears roll down his cheeks. “I will love you forever and I will keep missing you every single day. But it is time that I move on. I need to find happiness and maybe that happiness isn’t here. I ran away when I was sixteen and I don’t want to run away anymore. So this may be the last time in a while that I come and talk to you. I love you Maeve Reid, to the moon and back.” Spencer stands up and places the ring he was going to wear for the rest of his life on top of the tombstone. He walks away as he takes out his phone and dials a number he never thought he would actually call. It rings for a few seconds before a familiar voice comes through the receiver.

“Hotchner.” 

“Does the offer still stand?”

[yokusounidreambox]

I was tagged by @despairofthefault, thank you ❤️

Name: 🧍‍♀️

Gender: Woman

Star sign: Gemini

Height: 5′5″/165.1 cm says Google

Sexuality: Bi

What image do you have as wallpaper: A photo of two jellyfish I took at Sumida Aquarium

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?: No

Where do you see yourself in 10 years: Hopefully doing better than I am now

If you could be anywhere else right now, where?: Moved out

What was your coolest Halloween costume?: I made my own Punisher costume a few years ago. It wasn’t that complicated but I was happy with how it came out

What’s your favorite 90s show?: Tom & Jerry; Courage the Cowardly Dog; Seinfeld; The Golden Girls (it didn't start in the 90s but it ran until 1992 so technically-)

Who was your last kiss?: someone I hope to never see again lmao

Have you ever been stood up?: Yes

Have you ever been to las vegas?: No

Favorite pair of shoes: Heeled black ankle boots

Favorite fruit: shoutout to all the pear

Favorite book (s): A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

Stupidest thing you’ve ever done: Probably not the stupidest thing EVER but, I tried scratching an itch on my leg with my shaving razor. I thought if I had the blades facing away from my leg I wouldn't cut myself.

I’m tagging everyone so whoever wants to do it, go ahead 💕💘

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

"New vegas bitchessss!!"

"Downloading saved games? Aww... "

"New game!! Wooo here we go!! I remember nothing!"

"Ok ok... soldiers... drunk people, ok cool AAA, ok nevermind, just a sniper... gladiators... AH ITS THE CHECKERD SUIT JACKET MAN!! Ok vaults.."

"I HAVE THAT DOUBLE BEAR FLAG!"

"Isnt it weird... to like... make your new squad gladiators? Like, uh?"

"You are a courier"

"Ooo kinky, ropes"

"Orange hair spike guy, weirdo"

"I forgot how warm this game was... it's so nice"

"AAA blinded by the light"

"Wow, bro, why do u look at me when I sleep?"

"Uh... am I a man or a woman this play through..."

"Elm, woman please"

"Excuse you, my name is fucking glorious"

"AGSHFJAJJDHAHAU, wow I'm so ugly, it looks like how I look irl, oof"

"Female... plz... oh no, she wasnt any better..."

"All the faces look like someone dropped them on their faces...."

"I think new vegas just wasnt good at making faces ;-;"

"Back to ghost white it is.... EUGH"

"The eye colours look the same..."

"According to the game, the older you get, the more double chin you got.... ... am I a joke to you, game?"

"Magenta hair plz"

"Either I'm very short, or this man is"

"Thank you sir kind sir, dont mind me, I'll just loot this--"

"This is a very yeehaw kind of G.o.A.T test ngl"

"I didnt pay attention and the first answer was 'cat' and I just uuuuh yes"

"Like, but why?"

"I hate that my old save is there... I have to pay attention to my saves..."

"I just stole a bunch of shit"

"Last time, I actually played hard core... and I played all the DLCs... but it greatly prepared me for fallout 76, so I'm grateful"

"Why is the third person so close??? Hhhhh"

"I'm not doing the first quests even, I'm just like... looting"

"Hi victor, I wish I didnt remember who you were ;-;"

"I'd like to have my innocent take on Victor please"

"Like, do you look at the screen or like, the 'eye' "

"I'm just... looking for a shovel... totally not for digging up graves...."

"First house I found, steal everything, gotta get some caps money"

"This bad karma sound is different, and not as pleasing"

"According to the old save, I was a messiah, and ik I've been evil before, so I'm just gonna be me"

"I have a razor blade, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"Be gone, thot!"

"Holy shit, theres so many magazines in the school house???"

"Aa it's one of those... uh... western.. tribbles, the uh... fuck"

"Pfff, I was wearing a pre war hat, but found a suave hat and it looks so dumb"

"Wonder if he knows I'm selling his own stuff back to him"

"Isnt Ringo that dude from the Beatles?"

[isaiahwhitman]

The first hunters encounter

Las Vegas had seemed like a great plan, in the first place. He could easily get a job as a mechanic or whatever job that was offered. It was his first time living outside his pack. He felt both terrified and thrilled, also. After years of following rules and feeling like an idiot, he was on his own. He could thank Luna and his stupid boyfriend for it. He still felt bitter about what had happened but wasn’t sad anymore. 

After renting a room in a motel nearby, the werewolf headed to his favorite spot: the bar. It was not like one of these typical small-town bars. This one was all lit up in flashy colors, loud music pumping and was crowded. He found a free seat at the bar and ordered a beer. And another one, and another again until he began feeling tipsy. After an hour sitting there, a woman sat next to him. She was gorgeous, with her long brown hair pulled in a ponytail and curves that did not leave him indifferent. She engaged a conversation with him, to his surprise, and quickly the small talk turned a bit more intimate. The girl was touching his leg, laughing at his bad jokes, and although Isaiah was surprised by her interest, he really enjoyed it. Soon, she mentioned that she believed in werewolves. It immediately caught his interest, and he wanted to impress her. So, Isaiah told her his story, leaving no details out. The woman was captivated and asked him if she could watch him turn. A sober and lucid Isaiah would have refused instantly, but he was drunk and not thinking straight. He offered her to meet at a desert lot outside town.  What happened next gave him nightmares for years. When Isaiah arrived for his ‘date’ with the mysterious hot stranger, he was surprised to see that the young woman was not there. Instead, three men were waiting for him. “What’s wrong, wolf boy? We’re not who you expected?” One of them asked, while the others chuckled. Isaiah stayed silent, trying to figure out what to do and what was going on. They knew he was a wolf, but how? His question was quickly answered by the second man. “Mindy told us about you. Don’t take it so bad, she said you were cute for a monster.” The man grinned, but Isaiah didn’t notice, instead his attention was drawn to something shiny hanging on the man’s waist. Quickly, he realized it was a gun. He soon realized they were all armed. “What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?”  The first one asked again in a mocking tone. “Come on, let’s get this done. I told Lisa I’d be here before two.” The third one replied. Isaiah could tell he was afraid, unlike the others. “Yeah, Markus is right. Let’s just kill the thing and get rid of it.” The second man added. Isaiah heard a gun clicking and turned into a wolf. He started running away, and the three men yelled at him before following him. After long minutes that seemed like an eternity, Isaiah stopped, hiding behind a tree in the darkness. That was when he heard the gun ringing. The pain was immediate, like his leg had caught on fire. The large wolf howled and sprinted in the darkness, his leg weak and excruciatingly painful. How he achieved to return to the motel is still a mystery today. He arrived in his human form at the motel, limping to his door completely naked and bleeding. Thankfully nobody was around to see him. His left thigh was turning to a weird purple shade, and he knew he had to remove the bullet fast. Unfortunately, he was not equipped for a surgery of any kind. Growling, Isaiah grabbed his razor, and a bottle of vodka packed in his luggage. To disinfect the bruise, but also to give him some bravery. The werewolf screamed in pain and grunted as he pressed the blade against the hole, cutting the flesh open. Blood was flooding and the metallic taste made him want to throw up. It was so deep and stuck, but he could not just leave it there. He knew the bullet would poison him in no time. Trembling and scared, Isaiah slipped two fingers in the wound, throwing vodka on his leg, making the pain only worse. He cursed repeatedly, digging in his own flesh, searching for the bullet. He finally grabbed it and pulled out the tiny object. He threw it on the ground and chugged a long shot of vodka, shivering. His leg was still bleeding, and he wrapped a towel around it. He fell asleep quickly after that and only woke up days later, still naked in his bed. The bruised had started healing, but the scar remained purple. He left the same day and promised himself to kill the next hunter he met. To this day, he hides the scar that reminds him how stupid he was younger, and cannot wait to get his revenge someday. The slaughter of his family only made him more determined to avenge them.

[galen066]

Ain't That A Kick In The Head - A New Vegas June Six Ficlet

Benny Gecko was chatting with one of his bodyguards about the take from the night's one-off performance in the Aces Theater when the young blonde woman in the red satin dress approached. Benny waved off his guards to let her come closer.

"Benny, we need to talk. Now."

The leader of the Chairmen stared at June Six as shocked recognition hit him in a rush. "Ding-dong, hello! That was you coming out of the Lucky 38?" June's calm smile did nothing to reassure Benny. "Either I need to work on my aim, or you're the luckiest person alive."

June crossed her arms and shifted her hips. "Don't you think this is a bit public to talk about things?"

"If you think I'm going anywhere alone with you, sister, that bullet really did scramble your brains!", Benny observed.

"Look, Benny, I get you're a bottom-line kinda guy. Things happen, and it's just business", June said calmly. "I wanna offer you a proposition. But not here. In private." June nibbled the tip of her index finger suggestively.

"Tell you what. I'll set you up in the Presidential Suite", Benny offered. "Comp you everything. You go on ahead, and I'll meet you there."

"Benny", June admonished gently. "You shot me in the head once, and I'll be damned if I let you shoot me in the back. How about we go up to your room, have a drink and...get to know each other better. A lot better."

A bead of sweat rolled down the right side of Benny's forehead. "I oughta have the rocks in my head examined, but you gotta be the kinkiest dame I've ever met."

"Well, you're not exactly like any man I've met before. It's enough to change a girls mind", June purred.

Benny swallowed audibly. "Chico, Danse, you make sure we're not disturbed. For any reason, capishe?" The bodyguards glanced at each other, unsure, but nodded.

Benny slipped his arm through June's and led her to his private elevator. The ride up passed in electric anticipation, and when the lift doors opened, June allowed herself to be escorted through the door into Benny's suite. The interior was still stylish after two hundred years, and while in better shape than many places in the Mojave, she had to admit she was expecting something a bit less shabby.

June smiled primly as Benny took her right hand and started kissing seductively up her forearm. "What about those drinks?", she reminded him. "You fix those while I go get ready." Benny grinned like a shark as he slipped behind the bar, flipping the switch on the radio as he passed.

While June busied herself in the bathroom doing whatever it was women did in there, Benny considered his options, including g cutting his losses and running like a coward. He scoffed, dismissing that thought as soon as it arrived. He could handle one little dame, and one in a red satin dress at that.

"Well?", June announced. Benny felt his jaw drop. All the Courier was wearing was a pair of midnight black satin panties, a matching black garter belt, and mostly intact silk stockings. A pair of old world police handcuffs dangled suggestively from the index finger of her right hand.

"Ring-a-ding-ding!", Benny exclaimed as he rounded the bar, closing in for the kill. "How's about giving those charlies a shake for the Ben Man?"

June chuckled throatilly as Benny reached for her. She flipped the open handcuff bracelet into her hand, and had snapped it into place around his right wrist before he could react, before ducking under his arm, twisting the arm as she went into a joint lock, kicking Benny in the back of his knee, driving him into the carpeted floor with a knee strike to his back, before catching his flailing left leg and ratcheting the 'cuffs closed around his left ankle. June extricated herself from the Benny-pretzle, then flipped him on his back with a strength that surprsied him, lances of pain shooting from his wrist and ankle. June straddled Benny's hips, and punched him hard in the gut and then the solar plexus, leaving him gasping as she stripped off his tie, looping a quick slip knot around his left wrist and binding his hand to his bicep.

"Wha-what?", Benny gaped helplessly as June casually slipped her hand under the lapel of Benny's checkered suit jacket, and removed his 9mm pistol from it's holster.

"Nice. Pretty", June said, hefting the handgun, looking at the Virgin decorating the grips. "This what you used to shoot me the head, you fink?" Benny could only nod helplessly, wide-eyed in fear as June cycled the action and aimed between Benny's eyes. June's left hand searched Benny's pockets, retrieving the Platinum Chip. "This is mine, by the way." June slipped the chip into a pocket cunningly sewn into her garter belt.

"God, you really are a heartless bitch!", Benny muttered. A hard, dangerous look flashed in June's eyes just before she pistol whipped Benny in the face, breaking his cheek and nose. "The fuck did you just say to me?" June racked the pistol's slide back, and locked it open, before tossing it on the bed, and slipped the straight razor hidden in her garter belt out, opening it slowly, letting Benny see the light glitter off the silvered, mirror-polished steel blade. "Say hello to my friend 'Sweeney' ", June husked. "Sweeney and I want to know everything you know about the chip, and what you planned to do with it."

June kissed the fingertips of her left hand, pressing them to Benny's lips. "Just so you know, sweetie-pie, Swank knows all about your backstabbing Mr. House."

*-*-*-*

Two hours later, June settled on a bar stool beside Cass. Once again in her red satin dress, not a hair out of place.

Cass stared into the mirror behind the bar, a shot of whisky in her hand. "Didja fuck him?"

June lifted the shot out of her girlfriend's fingers, sipped delicately, deliberately before answering.

"Only in the head, mi Corazon."

@cyndercrys @vkm11 @worthlesssix @saberwriter @wailful-waffle

[lornahansonforbes]

The last time I heard from him was via DM. Two of them. One says, “I haven’t blocked you. I just don’t have the bandwidth to have regular contact.” The second one says, “I left my old (insert name of town) life behind.”

Punk Ass Little Bitch (from here out will be known as Pally Bee). Some months ago, my bipolar depression was getting the best of me and I lashed out, and I took steps to regain my composure. Then my dearly departed husband came calling. 43 years with the same man and I didn’t kill him. He died of natural causes and it was a heart attack. He purposely made me reopen my third eye. Something I’ve attempted to ignore but he is determined to make me feel and see. Months have come and gone. In between the ghosts bickering and me telling them step back, I need to process this shit. Three tarot card readers all pulled “The Tower” at different intervals. This “Tower” card tells you that change is coming. Clean slate. Anyway, Pally Bee confessed that he broke up with a married woman. A dirty little affair with a married woman and he called her, yes, his words not mine, “An ungrateful bitch.” I asked him wasn’t that paint brush in your hand next to a cauldron that you didn’t stir? 🤔 Never mind. I just clicked in and saw bits and pieces and I wrote in a complete daze. I didn’t know I had done that until seriously a day or later. It’s all here somewhere. My husband visited. His mother was there. My mother, my stepmother, my uncle and someone else was there. It’s not all that clear to me. Okay, 3 different tarot decks and 3 different mediums all said that this wasn’t going to end well. I clapped back with the following, after reading his DMs, “🤦‍♀️ Typical Taurus behavior. Empath, blessing or a curse. I wrote. I know I hurt you with my words. Now I’m being dismissed. No rebuttal. Chooses not to clap back. Damn yo. Okay I’ll let you go but Karma. However, you, my foster son and my own brother, Taurus, simply could not care any less than they already don’t about my existence. Bandwidth. Excellent word. Well then, that’s that is it? I’ll keep my visions to myself.” I know y’all think that I probably should have eaten more lead paint chips as a child. I told him straight out, from the jump, do you actually think I like having the dearly departed visit me? Dude. This is not the Russian volunteer system working here. I didn’t sign up for this shit. He knows that I’ve seen shit and I told him exactly what I saw. Did he ever clap back and provide a rebuttal? Nope. I just wanted to know if there was anything I missed or if I was wrong about anything and I just wanted to provide him an opportunity. Nope. He like several Taurus men I know, yeah, not much for feeling or caring about whatever and using their voice, their words, etc., tsk tsk tsk. Not going to happen. Having first hand knowledge of several 12 steps, I am pretty sure that they all talk about Ownership, Responsibility, Acceptance, Acknowledgement and Affirmation. Well you find a Taurus ♉️ in such a situation, y’all best to be hollering at me real quick. That’s something that must be seen to be believed. I know I should excoriate him but I won’t. I just don’t want to use profanity or be obscene about our divorce. Yeah he’s divorced me a friend or an acquaintance. It’s okay. I’ll find a day to mourn this passing. As I see it, I just knew that I’d be hearing over the restaurant PA, “Bitter?! Table for one. Bitter?!” Once again I dodged that bullet. What this pandemic has taught me, motherfuckers don’t give shit about nothing except themselves. Family, friends and all that. No ma’am Pam. It’s all about me and even though you mine, and we good, I’ll cut a bitch and look cute doing it. It’s like that fool I saw up on the TV. He all up in the hospital with the Covid, all lit up like the Vegas strip, wife by his side quietly tears running down her face and the reporter asks, “You’re going to get the vaccine?” And that man looks square in the camera and says emphatically, “No I am not.” Just over 48 hours, that man passed away. Now to bring this all back around here, Pally Bee won’t sit shiva. Won’t go to temple every day for a year. Won’t say Kaddish. Nope. He divorced me and it’s over. I’m not going to sitting around playing Dolly or Ole Widdy Hutton either. No rusty razor blades.

[uponaredwheelbarrow]

05. send ⛪ for our muses to wake up married in vegas i just think this is going to be so funny

It was a given to him that after so much vodka, he’d have high tolerance in it. And yet...His head is bounding, the rays of sunlight coming in felt like razor blades. It felt awful, but he opened his eyes, turning on his other side so his back would be against the window.He nearly jumped as he saw a woman sleeping next to him, a half torn wedding veil on her head. Was that...Veronica? What the fuck?❝Veronica! Wake up.❞  he shook her shoulder, gently at first when he noticed a cheap ring on his hand. That wasn’t his. What the fuck? He shook her harder this time. ❝Wake the fuck up.❞  

[britneyrosenhain-blog]

Panama Canal Weather Condition.

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[moderncolors]

My latest goal for this blog is to talk a little bit more about myself and my life. I know that sounds a little narcissistic but after asking for honest feedback about my blog, many people stated quite clearly that they would like to know more about me. Sooooo... In my first "getting to know me" post,  Meet the Blogger: Who is Quirky Bohemian Mama? I gave a nice little rundown about myself and  answered a few reader submitted questions that I collected on Facebook. After doing that post I had the desire to open up a little more and what better way to do that than by sharing my favorite movies? Super deep topic, I know. If bet you're assuming this list is going to be full of a bunch of cool artsy fartsy films about quirky  girls with weird haircuts. Nah. Here's what's crazy though:  Now that I've made my official favorite movies list - something I haven't done in years, I see now that there is something horribly wrong with me. It has become quite evident that I am really into psychotic men, violence, blood and drugs. What the heck??? I know right?! This turned out to be a self-discovery exercise with results that bother me a little bit. So here are my 10 favorite movies of all time, including my very own brief summary of what each movie is about and the actual official description from Google. Enjoy. This post is absolutely riddled with affiliate links.  ▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲ Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas A psychotic man and his psychotic attorney travel to Las Vegas. There are lots of drugs. Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp) and his attorney Dr. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro) drive a red convertible across the Mojave desert to Las Vegas with a suitcase full of drugs to cover a motorcycle race. As their consumption of drugs increases at an alarming rate, the stoned duo trash their hotel room and fear legal repercussions. Duke begins to drive back to L.A., but after an odd run-in with a cop (Gary Busey), he returns to Sin City and continues his wild drug binge. Inglourious Basterds A group of psychotic American soldiers kill a lot of psychotic Nazis. There is a lot of violence. Like... "OMG eeew" kind of violence. It is the first year of Germany's occupation of France. Allied officer Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) assembles a team of Jewish soldiers to commit violent acts of retribution against the Nazis, including the taking of their scalps. He and his men join forces with Bridget von Hammersmark, a German actress and undercover agent, to bring down the leaders of the Third Reich. Their fates converge with theater owner Shosanna Dreyfus, who seeks to avenge the Nazis' execution of her family. The Science of Sleep A psychotic man confuses his dreams with reality. No violence, or drugs but there is a teeny weeny bit of blood... on a door. Soon after the death of his father, a distraught young man (Gael García Bernal) begins a job as a graphic designer, but has little chance to create. His intense dreams begin to overtake his waking life and he becomes increasingly caught up in flights of fancy. His hyperactive imagination then begins to interfere with his courtship of a pretty neighbor (Charlotte Gainsbourg). There Will Be Blood A psychotic oil tycoon ruins lives with his greed and kills a couple of people. There is blood... not as much as one would think given the title... but there is blood at the very end. Silver miner Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) leads a hardscrabble life with his son, H.W. (Dillon Freasier). When he hears about oil oozing from the ground near the Western town of Little Boston, Daniel takes his son on a mission to find their fortune. Daniel makes his lucky strike and becomes a self-made tycoon but, as his fortune grows, he deviates into moral bankruptcy. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street A psychotic barber practices his murdering skills on innocent people. There is an absurd amount of blood. Oh, my gosh, there is a lot of blood. Evil Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) lusts for the beautiful wife of a London barber (Johnny Depp) and transports him to Australia for a crime he did not commit. Returning after 15 years and calling himself Sweeney Todd, the now-mad man vows revenge, applying his razor to unlucky customers and shuttling the bodies down to Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter), who uses them in her meat-pie shop. Though many fall to his blade, he will not be satisfied until he slits Turpin's throat. Hair Some psychotic hippies run around New York with the most boring man on the planet who's there to join the Army. Great musical numbers happen when they do drugs. In New York City for the first time while on his way to enlist in the U.S. Army during the Vietnam War, Oklahoma farm hand Claude Hooper Bukowski (John Savage) meets up with a freewheeling group of Central Park hippies led by the irrepressible George Berger (Treat Williams). When the unlikely friends meet upper-middle-class debutante Sheila Franklin (Beverly D'Angelo), sparks fly between the country boy and the city girl, and Berger's troupe attempts to keep the young lovers together. Buffalo '66 A psychotic man fresh out of prison kidnaps a girl and kind of starts to like her. There are no drugs but the movie is a bit of a trip. Convict Billy Brown (Vincent Gallo) dreads going home so much upon his release from prison that he tries to get back inside. In desperation, Billy kidnaps Layla (Christina Ricci) from a tap dancing class and pleads with her to impersonate his wife and to accompany him home to visit his parents, Janet (Anjelica Huston) and Jimmy (Ben Gazzara). To Billy's dismay, Layla takes to her role enthusiastically. She breaks through to obsessive Buffalo Bills football fan Janet and the hard-edged Jimmy. Gladiator A psychotic prince gets super jealous that his daddy loves another dude better than him.  There is soooooo much violence.... and blood. Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix) takes power and strips rank from Maximus (Russell Crowe), one of the favored generals of his predecessor and father, Emperor Marcus Aurelius, the great stoical philosopher. Maximus is then relegated to fighting to the death in the gladiator arenas. V for Vendetta  A psychotic man in a mask blows up a lot of stuff and kills a lot of people to save the future of his country. Violence? Why, yes! Yes there is! Following a world war, London is a police state occupied by a fascist government, and a vigilante known only as V (Hugo Weaving) uses terrorist tactics to fight the oppressors of the world in which he now lives. When V saves a young woman named Evey (Natalie Portman) from the secret police, he discovers an ally in his fight against England's oppressors. The Princess and the Frog Hm... Maybe I'm not so crazy after all! Hardworking and ambitious, Tiana (Anika Noni Rose) dreams of one day opening the finest restaurant in New Orleans. Her dream takes a slight detour when she meets Prince Naveen (Bruno Campos), who has been turned into an amphibian by evil Dr. Facilier. Mistaking her for a princess and hoping to break the spell, Naveen plants a kiss on poor Tiana -- thereby turning her into a frog as well. The pair hop along on an adventure through the bayous to seek the help of a powerful voodoo priestess. Have you seen any of these movies? Do you think I need some therapy? Let me know in a comment below! amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "false"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "mocotw-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "manual"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Honorable Mentions"; amzn_assoc_asins = "B0017UOU30,B00XNUZ2WU,B000DWMN2S,B002MFV0N2"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "46be71c9606ff303b18b813dd9e9e1e2";

http://www.quirkybohemianmama.com/2017/09/quirky-bohemians-mamas-top-10-favorite-movies.html

[allcheatscodes]

fallout new vegas ps3

http://allcheatscodes.com/fallout-new-vegas-ps3/

fallout new vegas ps3

Fallout: New Vegas cheats & more for PlayStation 3 (PS3)

Cheats

Unlockables

Hints

Easter Eggs

Glitches

Guides

Trophies

Get the updated and latest Fallout: New Vegas cheats, unlockables, codes, hints, Easter eggs, glitches, tricks, tips, hacks, downloads, trophies, guides, FAQs, walkthroughs, and more for PlayStation 3 (PS3). AllCheatsCodes.com has all the codes you need to win every game you play!

Use the links above or scroll down to see all the PlayStation 3 cheats we have available for Fallout: New Vegas.

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Check Xbox 360 cheats for this game

Genre: Shooter, First-Person Shooter Developer: Obsidian Entertainment Publisher: Bethesda Softworks ESRB Rating: Mature Release Date: October 19, 2010

Hints

Infinite Caps

After your restore law in Primm (either with NCR or With the sheriff) go back to the casino and talk to the raiders who show up (however you please). Then leave Primm and return 3 in-game days later and buy chips and the cash them in. You get the caps and keep the chips and you can trade in the chips however much you want.

Unlimited Caps In Lonesome Road

There are many commissaries in lonesome road, they recycle themselves when they get below 100 caps, back to a full bank of 6,000. You can sell everything you want until you empty it, then close, reopen, repeat until you have a million plus caps like I did. They look good next to the 37 gold bars.

Easy Caps

If you go to the strip and go into Tops you can or even in freeside you can gamble in blackjack. Buy 200 chips and go to a table. Save. Then while you are playing bet max. And every time you win stop playing and save again. Every time you lose all you have to do is load. But make sure you save before you play.

Weapon Locations

.357 Magnum Revolver – LuckyIn Primm, in the floor safe inside the cashier’s area of the Vikki and Vance Casino. .44 Magnum Revolver – Mysterious MagnumOwned by the Lonesome Drifter, by the Sunset Sasparilla Billboard, close to El Dorado Dry Lake. 9 Iron – Nephi’s Golf DriverCarried by a Fiend named Driver Nephi, in his territory. 9mm Pistol – MariaOn Benny, when you kill him. 9mm Submachine Gun – Vance’s Submachine GunIn Win’s Hideout, inside the safe. Alien BlasterAt the Hovering Anomaly. BB Gun – Abilene Kid LE BB GunInside the Fiend’s Shack, lying on a shelf. Bladed Gauntlet – Cram OpenerIn Camp McCarran, owned by Little Buster. Boxing Gloves – Golden GlovesInside Lucky 38 Casino, on the upper bar of the casino floor. Bumper Sword – Blade Of The EastIn Legate’s Camp, carried by Legate Lanius. Cleaver – ChopperOn the stove of Wolfhorn Ranch. Combat Knife – Chance�s KnifeIn Chance’s Grave. Cowboy Repeater – La Longue CarabineIn Camp McCarran, carried by Corporal Sterling. Displacer Glove – PushyInside the Ruby Hill Mine, on the body of a Jackal Gang member. DogTag Fist – Recompense Of The FallenIn Aurelius’ desk, on the upper floor of the main building in Cottonwood Cove. Euclid’s C-FinderOn the Freeside Streets, carried by Max, in and around Nick and Ralph’s. Fat ManIn Quarry Junction, near the skeleton by the southern silt pool. It is also occasionally found on prospector corpses. Fire Axe – Knock KnockIn the Camp Searchlight Fire Station, in the restrooms. Frag Grenade – Holy Frag GrenadeIn Camp Searchlight, in the basement of the eastern church. Wild Wasteland must be taken. Gauss Rifle – YCS/186At the Mercenary Camp; Wild Wasteland trait must not be taken. Grenade Machine-gun – MercyOn the floor of Dead Wind Cavern, near a dead BoS Paladin. Grenade Rifle – Thump-ThumpAt the Nellis Array, lying on the floor near the Ant mound. Hunting Shotgun – Dinner BellAt the Old Nuclear Test Site, inside the shack. Laser Pistol – Pew PewAfter completing “The Legend Of The Star” quest, it will be on the body of Allen Marks. Laser Rifle – AER14 PrototypeInside the Vault 22 Common Area, on the blocked stairwell only accessible from the Food Production level. Lead Pipe – The Humble CudgelInside the Sealed Sewers, near the Prospector Corpse. Machete – LiberatorIn Nelson, carried by Dead Sea. Minigun – CZ57 AvengerIn the Devil’s Throat, inside, at the back of the container trailer, by the dead body. Missile Launcher – AnnabelleIn Black Rock Mountain, carried by the Nightkin Sniper on Black Rock Summit. Marksman Carbine – All-AmericanIn the Armory Cache, Vault 34, on the floor, on an upturned table. Oh, Baby!In the deepest part of Charleston Cave, near a Chewed Stealth Boy. Plasma Rifle – Q-35 Matter ModulatorIn the locked shipping room of REPCONN HQ, in a pod casement. Pulse GunIn the Armory Cache, Vault 34. Sawed-Off Shotgun – Big BoomerIn Gibson Scrap Yard, carried by Old Lady Gibson. Sniper Rifle – Gobi Campaign Scout RifleIn the footlocker of the Sniper’s Nest, overlooking the Cottonwood Cove. Spiked Knuckles – Love and HateIn Bonnie Springs, on the Viper Gang Leader. Straight Razor – FigaroIn the back of King’s School of Impersonation, owned by Sergio. Tesla Cannon – Tesla-Beaton PrototypeOn the ground near the crashed Vertibird. That GunIn Novac, on a shelf in the locked storage room inside the Dino Bite Gift Shop. This MachineAt the end of the “Dealing With Contreras” quest, it will be a reward from Contreras for not turning him in. Varmint Rifle – RatslayerInside the Broc Flower Cave, propped up against the desk. Zap Glove – Paladin ToasterIn Black Rock Cave, near the body of the dead prospector.

Ways to get Into the Strip

Once in freeside, go talk to the woman in the atomic wrangler, if shes not there wait a couple hours. Ask for work, also have the “Lady Killer” perk. She will say she needs debt collected, all of them are in freeside. The lady killer perk is when you talk to Lady Jane, you can persuade her to fork over the caps, plus she gives you a caravan location, I think there is 7000 or so caps inside. Kill everyone at freeside except: The Kings, The Silver Rush people, And Mr. House’s Securitrons. Someone has a C4 charge sell it for 548 caps, take a job at the silver rush guarding the door, you will earn 200 caps, the next job there is also 200 caps. OR if you have awesome weapons, or a death wish kill the Securitron greeter take the key, RUN, or you will DIE. If you want to kill them all visit nellis air force base, kill raquell take the grenade launcher, really fast one, not the ordinary grenade launcher! These ways only take a few minutes! OR do a 100 jobs for the king and he’ll get you a passport and you can use Rex, his dog.

Easiest Way For Unlimited XP

Go to Vault 11 find the overseer’s password for his/ her terminal fight all the robots in the basement and find another terminal in a small room and click on the last entry on the terminal as much as you need to get to level 30 (probably 5 seconds).

Free Plasma Weapons

Go to New Vegas, then go to the Silver Rush (there is a big sign that says “Silver Rush”) There is a bathroom in the back of the shop. Go through the unlocked door and then go and get a gun off of the table. Take it to the bathroom and then put it in your inventory. You will not get caught and you can get all the guns you want.

Scared Deathclaw

If loads of deathclaws are chasing you run into water deathclaws are afraid of water and won’t follow.

Truly Unlimited Experience

I have uncovered the ultimate tip in fallout, new vegas. Down in the south east corner of your map, (Accessed by pip boy) there is a village called cottonwood cove. In cottonwood cove there is a building with a fence on one side of it. (Possibly containing slaves if not yet freed. ) go around to the side opposite if the cage to the side that has stairs leading up the side. Inside you will find a man by the name of Aurelius of Pheonix. Talk to him. He is offering to reward you for each NCR trooper you slay. You must bring back dog tags as proof. Anyway. You have the option to barter instead for weapons supplies. Do this. (Barter of 35+ required. ) after selecting this don’t exit conversation. Keep selecting this. Each time you select this conversation action, you will receive 69XP. Rapidly press X to keep selecting this for infinite XP. (Note: once you exit this conversation, it is no longer accessible) you can gain more than one level at a time. I have already went up 10 levels, now level 41. Good luck gamers.

500+ XP

Goto Vault 11 (northwest of Boulder City) and find the overseers password. Go through the Reactor level to find the password in the Atrium (on the podium: hologram) goto the overseers office and go down to the sacrificial chamber. Watch the movie and kill the robots the goto the computer and click the third option FIRST and continue to click it until desired level. (Note: usable once if you exit the computer or pick another option byebye glitch. ).

Hollow Rock Locations

1. Northern PassageOn the eastern rock wall, near the grave and “The Sun Is Killing Me” graffiti. 2. Ruby Hill MinePart of the rock wall, just to the right of the door. 3. Charleston CavePart of the rock wall, just to the right of the door, by the heart graffiti. 4. Silver Peak MinePart of the wall, just to the right of the shack through which you enter. 5. Vault 22On the north bank, across from the “Keep Out” sign, by the entrance. 6. JacobstownJust outside the perimeter, to the right of the main entrance, where the Super Mutants stand guard. 7. Remnants BunkerAbout 10 feet north of the entrance, part of the rock wall. 8. Chance’s MapAdjacent to the dirt map, with “The Sun Is Killing Me” graffiti on it. 9. Bloodborne CaveJust to the right of the cave entrance. 10. Cannibal Johnson’s CaveJust to the right of the cave entrance. 11. Fisherman’s Pride ShackBy the campfire, north-west of the shack. 12. Camp GuardianNext to the Camp Guardian population sign, at the base of the path up to Guardian Peak. 13. Follower’s OutpostBuilt into the steps of the signal box structure. 14. Boulder Beach CampgroundBy the side of the road, north-west of the jetties, with “The Sun Is Killing Me” graffiti. 15. Cazador NestPart of the rock wall, on the east side of the nest alcove, facing back towards the alcove. 16. Tribal VillageAt the start of the Ravine Path, close to the corpses and tents. 17. Makeshift Great Kahn CampOn the west side of camp, near the desert plants. 18. Yangtze MemorialAt the base of the south steps, with the peace symbol graffiti. 19. Goodsprings CaveJust to the right of the cave entrance. 20. PrimmAttached to a large rock, near the scattered chems and the rock perimeter, above the concrete support wall. 21. Jack Rabbit SpringsSouth of the pools of radiation, on the shore of the Dry Lake. 22. Morning Star CavernBy the entrance to the cavern, by the bones and the explosive crate. 23. Crescent Canyon WestIn the canyon, on the west exit slope, adjacent to a rusting car husk. 24. Crescent Canyon EastOn the east exist slope, just after the rail bridge. 25. Vault 11Just to the right of the entrance. 26. Black Rock CaveJust to the north of the fallen radar dish. 27. El Dorado Dry LakeWest of the Savaged Brahmin, in the sands of the Dry Lake. 28. Hidden ValleyWest of the eastern bunker, with the “no missile” and heart graffiti. 29. Powder Ganger Camp EastNext to a Honey Mesquite Tree, around 20 to 30 feet south of the camp. 30. Primm PassClose to the Brahmin bones, on the western end of the pass. 31. Dead Wind CavernOn the south rock wall slope, around 20 to 30 feet from the entrance. 32. Hidden Supply CaveTo the left of the cave entrance, with the “no missile” graffiti. 33. Walking Box CavernAround 20 to 30 feet east of the cavern entrance. 34. Broc Flower CaveAt the foot of the entrance slope, with “The Sun Is Killing Me” graffiti. 35. Abandoned BoS BunkerWith the small cluster of rocks and shale on the slope leading up to the bunker grating. 36. Techatticup MineTo the right of the entrance, with the white blocks graffiti. 37. Lucky Jim MineSlightly beyond the shack, near the wooden cart. 38. Searchlight North Gold MineOn the flat rock bank to the south of the entrance hole. 39. Searchlight East Gold MineSoutheast of the entrance; climb on the pile of rock and shale to reach it. 40. Cottonwood CaveOn the road between the two sets of crucifixion poles, with “The Sun Is Killing Me” graffiti. 41. Bradley’s ShackOn the west side of the entrance, by the small valley landslide. 42. Fire Root CavernAt the foot of the entrance slope, on the left.

Snow Globe Locations

Goodsprings – Goodsprings Cemetery : Near the water tower is a patch of upturned soil by a small, rectangular grave marker. The Snow Globe is sitting in front of the marker. Hoover Dam – Hoover Dam : Search the visitor center for a terminal near two curved desks. The Snow Globe can be found on a desk here. Nellis AFB – Nellis Air Force Base : Pete’s makeshift museum holds this Snow Globe. It’s on a table in the corner under a mural. Mormon Fort – Old Mormon Fort : Julie Farkas has an office inside a tower at the fort. The Snow Globe is on top of a bookcase here. Mt. Charleston Snow Globe – Jacobstown : In the lodge, search the entrance and reception area. This Snow Globe is sitting on a curved desk by some terminals. Test Site – Lucky 38 Casino : Head to the cocktail lounge and look for the cash register. It’s across from the entrance. The Snow Globe is behind the register. The Strip – Vault 21 : After you access Sarah’s locked bedroom, grab this Snow Globe off of the table between the two beds.

Cheats

Glitch: Infinite XP

If you can get your speech skill to at least 50 or higher, you can persuade Old Ben to offer his escort services to the local bar. If you succeed in his Speech Challenge, you gain 61 XP. If you follow him back to the bar afterwards and wait until he sits down, you can speak to him again and redo the same Speech Challenge over and over again for unlimited XP. You can find Old Ben sitting by a fire close to the King headquarters in Freeside.

Unlockables

Currently we have no unlockables for Fallout: New Vegas yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Easter eggs

Currently we have no easter eggs for Fallout: New Vegas yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Glitches

Goodsprings Glitch

(Must have barter or speech at 25) Do not leave Goodsprings. After you get finished doing the quest with Sunny Smile follow Joe Cobb and help him take over Goodsprings. Kill Ringo and report back to Joe Cobb and tell him you killed Ringo and he should say you need supplies from town. Kill Joe and the powder gangers and goto talk to Chet. Tell him the Powder Gangers need supplies and use your barter or speech to get the supplies, leather armor, 30 9 mm rounds, and 25 xp. Every perk that is unlockable in level four and up you get to keep when you leave Goodsprings and pick other perks when it takes you back down to level one to level you up.

Guides

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Currently no guide available.

Trophies

Trophy List

Ain’t That a Kick in the Head (Bronze)Completed Ain’t That a Kick in theHead. All or Nothing (Bronze)Completed All or Nothing. Arizona Killer (Bronze)Completed Arizona Killer. Artful Pocketer (Bronze)Pick 50 pockets. Blast Mastery (Bronze)Cause 10,000 damage with Energy Weapons. Caravan Master (Silver)Win 30 games of Caravan. Come Fly With Me (Bronze)Completed Come Fly With Me. Crafty (Bronze)Craft 20 items. Desert Survivalist (Bronze)Heal 10,000 points of damage with food. Double Down (Bronze)Play 10 hands of Blackjack. Eureka! (Bronze)Completed Eureka! For the Republic (Silver)Completed For the Republic. G.I. Blues (Bronze)Completed G.I. Blues. Globe Trotter (Silver)Discover all snow globes. Hack the Mojave (Bronze)Hack 25 terminals. Hardcore (Gold)Play the game from start to finish in Hardcore Mode. Jury Rigger (Bronze)Repair 30 items. Know When to Fold Them (Bronze)Win 3 games of Caravan. Lead Dealer (Bronze)Cause 10,000 damage with Guns. Little Wheel (Bronze)Play 10 spins of Roulette. Love the Bomb (Bronze)Cause 10,000 damage with Explosives. Master of the Mojave (Silver)Discover 125 locations. Mod Machine (Bronze)Install 20 weapon mods. New Kid (Bronze)Reach 10th level. New Vegas Samurai (Bronze)Cause 10,000 damage with Melee Weapons. No Gods, No Masters (Bronze)Completed No Gods, No Masters. No Tumbler Fumbler (Bronze)Pick 25 locks. Ol’ Buddy Ol’ Pal (Bronze)Recruit any companion. Old-Tyme Brawler (Bronze)Cause 10,000 damage with Unarmed weapons. One Armed Bandit (Bronze)Play 10 spins of Slots. Outstanding Orator (Bronze)Make 50 Speech challenges. Platinum Trophy (Platinum)Collect all other 50 Trophies for this Trophy. Render Unto Caeser (Silver)Completed Render Unto Caeser. Return to Sender (Bronze)Completed Return to Sender. Ring-a-Ding-Ding (Silver)Completed Ring-a-Ding-Ding. Stim-ply Amazing (Bronze)Heal 10,000 points of damage with Stimpaks. Talent Pool (Bronze)Completed Talent Pool. That Lucky Old Sun (Bronze)Completed That Lucky Old Sun. The Boss (Silver)Reach 30th level. The Courier Who Broke the Bank (Silver)Get banned from all the Strip’scasinos. The House Always Wins (Silver)Completed The House Always Wins. The Legend of the Star (Bronze)Completed The Legend of the Star. The Whole Gang’s here (Silver)Recruit all companions. They Went That-a Way (Silver)Completed They Went That-a Way. Up and Comer (Silver)Reach 20th level. Veni, Vidi, Vici (Bronze)Completed Veni, Vidi, Vici. Volare! (Bronze)Completed Volare! Walker of the Mojave (Bronze)Discover 50 locations. Wild Card (Silver)Completed Wild Card. You Run Barter Town (Bronze)Sell 10,000 caps worth of goods. You’ll Know It When It Happens (Bronze)Completed You’ll Know It When ItHappens.