#when he worked at the liquor store still before his disability got worse he worked during the bud light controversy and he got SO mad

[landofgay]

madly in love with my bf rn

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Whiskey and Photos

First, Previous (Chapter 20), Ao3

Words count: 1466

Warnings: alcohol, mention of murder, guilt, mention of human experiments, blood mention

Something was wrong.

Logan was sure of it.

Something about him wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

If he was honest that had always been the case but this was some new wrong.

He didn't like it.

Didn't trust it.

Heartrate's sidekicks shouldn't have dropped like that, the exact moment the lights went out as if someone had punched all the light switches at once.

He could do that to machines, electronics and the likes. Not people!

Those boys were definitely human. He had checked after they had passed out. So the reason was him.

He had made them pass out.

Had his powers changed?

How was that even possible?

Powers were developed and then they were supposed to stay that way.

In all his years of research he had never once even heard about powers changing.

It made him wonder if there were more ways his powers had changed.

It made him wonder if this forced shut down would have lasting effects.

It made him wonder if he might accidentally make Virgil shut down.

And that really was the biggest problem. The fear of hurting Virgil. The feeling that he was nothing but a danger. It tasted sour and familiar on his tongue.

 "I'm going to give him up for adoption," Logan said staring down at the whiskey glass he was spinning between his fingers. "I have to."

 "You don't have to do anything," Remy cut in. "Where the fuck is this coming from? You love the tiny gremlin!"

 "I loved her too!" Logan snapped, slamming his glass down. His hands were shaking uncontrollably now. "I loved her and I just..."

 He couldn't say it. Couldn't bring himself to put the true horror of what he had done into words.

 Remy knew anyway.

 "You're scared you'll kill him too," Remy said plainly. From him, talk about murder sounded like talking about the weather. Like a simple 'Looking good out today, doesn't it?'.

 Logan wondered how a person could be this cold. Sometimes Remy scared him. Right now he scared himself.

 "Well, I'm pretty sure I can speak for Emile when I say that we won't let that happen. You try to hurt him, we'll break your bones."

 The threat was delivered so casually yet it still send shivers down Logan's spine.

 "Don't give him away, Logan."

 He took a sip of his drink.

 "The kid's all you've got left now. Trust me on this one."

Remy and Emile couldn't do anything if he shut them down. He should have known he'd lose everything one day. People like him didn't get to be happy. Didn't deserve it.

When had he stopped wanting to throw up when he killed a subject during tests?

Why had he ever thought he could raise a child?

Logan took a shot of liquor and cringed. It was that weird stuff he had tried once and decided to never drink again. It tasted even worse than he remembered but the alcohol burned his throat the way he wanted it to.

He had to get his shit together.

One more raid then he'd be able to stay hidden from the public for at least a year.

Part of him wished he hadn't asked Virgil for help on this one.

But he needed someone as agile and small as him. There was no way he'd find someone else in time.

With a sigh he stood up and put on his jacket.

He only had to stay in control of his emotions. That was all.

After tonight he could begin to figure out what had happened to his powers.

Virgil met him on the rooftop near the lab they'd be raiding.

"What's wrong?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"Nothing," Logan lied. "Just... stressed."

Virgil nodded and did something that made strong metal hooks shot out from his underarm armour about an inch from his closed fist. He made the turn so that the curved hook faced out and a flat one in.

"Interesting mechanism," Logan noted.

"They're good for climbing," Virgil grinned. "Came up with it myself."

Pride dared to flutter its waxy wings in his chest and Logan forced it down. It had brought him enough misery already with every time he let it fly, thinking he could stop it from going too high.

"Let's go then," he said instead.

Logan disabled the security doors and set the cameras on loop with his ability and they snuck into the building.

A security guard rounded the corner and tried to grab his walkie-talkie but Logan made it shut off too. One of the lamps burned out with a bang. That hadn't been his intention. That wasn't good.

Why was his control slipping?

Was the security footage even looped properly?

The security guard pulled his gun and pointed at Logan before he froze and looked around confused.

"Where's the kid?" he demanded.

Logan glanced to his left.

Virgil was gone.

Up, his intuition told him but he forced himself not to look.

"How would I know?," he shrugged calmly. He had to stay calm.

A hook swung from the ceiling and hit the man at the temple, hard enough for blood to splash against the metal and the man to drop just like the sidekicks had.

Logan swallowed hard.

Calm.

He had to stay calm.

Virgil landed next to the guards unconscious body.

"Should we hide him?" he asked.

Logan took the guards gun and shook his head.

"We should hurry. Best case we're gone before anyone finds him."

"Okay."

Logan led the way into the underground lab he had worked at what felt like a lifetime ago. Weird how people called him a monster but didn't see the human experiments they conducted around here under orders of the government.

He was a monster, he wouldn't deny that but he was far from the worst one.

At least he didn't pretend to be anything better than he was.

"I'll get the stuff I need up here. The shaft I told you about is behind that door. I disabled the alarms so you just have to make sure you don't fall down," Logan told Virgil. "Do you remember the code?"

"1342-3369," Virgil nodded.

"I can't guarantee that the cameras down there are off so you'll have to be careful."

He ignored the questioning look Virgil shot him and made his way to the main office.

Behind him he heard the door to the elevator shaft open and something get dragged into the opening.

The office was locked.

Logan kneeled down, pulled his lockpick and got to work.

At this time no one should come down here anymore but he still listened carefully for footsteps. Better safe than sorry. The most important rule of any robbery.

The lock clicked open and Logan slipped into the room.

He knew exactly how the files were stored.

He had come up with the system after all.

It took him less than two minutes to find all the files he needed, he quickly flipped through them and put everything else back in its place. He didn't want Laberts to know immediately that he had taken anything.

He went over to the elevator shaft.

Virgil was no where in site. He probably needed a little longer to get the safe open and get everything Logan needed.

He looked around the room and sauntered over to his old desk.

The chair had been replaced. It looked like it had been packed in a plastic bag. He didn't bother sitting down.

There was a picure and he picked it up.

A family of two woman, a toddler and a baby smiled at him.

The frame had been drawn on, probably by the toddler, with shaky hearts, loopy flowers and inept letters spelling out 'Love yuo Momma'.

Logan set it down again and ignored the feeling welling up in his throat. A family picture he had hidden away and done his best to forget came to mind and he pushed it away again.

He heard metal clanck by the elevator and looked up.

"Can you give me a hand here?" Virgil called.

Logan hurried over to him and took the pack Virgil held up for him before taking Virgil's hand and helping him up.

VIrgil let out a breath of air.

"That was a lot of blood," he muttered.

"Are you alright?" Logan asked. He could smell the blood on Virgil.

"I'm fine. Don't think those fellas down there are though."

Logan still gave him a once over to make sure.

"Can we get sushi tonight?" Virgil asked. "I'm hungry."

"Okay," Logan nodded slowly. "Let's get this stuff somewhere safe first."

He just had to stay calm until he was alone. He just had to make sure he didn't hurt Virgil.

Next

Taglist:

@patton-cake , @isabelle-stars

[ellaintrigue]

Photo credit: Julio Cortez/AP

George Floyd's fiance pleads against the violent protests: https://www.thedailybeast.com/george-floyds-fiancee-pleads-…

YES, racism is alive and well. So is sexism, rape culture, and homophobia, but you don't see the Me Too movement hurting people and destroying property...

YES, George Floyd was murdered. But this goes far beyond racism. I never deny racism, the recent murder of a black man by two white guys in a pickup was clearly racist. But this is an issue of MEN. And POLICE. Cops have always killed people, it's all a matter of what gets the most publicity. I see a photo collage going around of black people that have been shot recently by cops and I find it offensive. Where are the white, Asian, and Hispanics that have also been shot by the police? What about the recent shooting of a white woman? We are all equals, right? https://apnews.com/57b423dcf5e54bdb801d7ea564416a0a

Foolish liberal hypocrisy. Meanwhile I am seeing younger democratic socialists applauding the looting as capitalism being put in its place. What the hell? You see the first article above, George Floyd's loved one said he never wanted this. And what exactly is the relevance to his death? What did Target stores do to George Floyd? How is the guy walking down the street with a backpack of stolen liquor bottles contributing to justice?

This is bullshit of the greedy and the brainwashed, race issues and social topics have been long lost. The majority of the protesters seem to be males enjoying violence. Which again, is what it comes down to.

While a huge feminist, I have no problem admitting that men have their own separate laundry list of issues. Difficulty speaking out, and difficulty getting help for whatever problems they may have because of the stigma of society where men are still not allowed to admit "weakness." I see it in my own father who has outbursts from being overwhelmed by various things. Having to be a tough guy and a financial supporter to a disabled wife but unable to accept or seek support himself.

There are A LOT of angry men out there. Shit, they're justified for the most part! I would definitely not want to be a man. And that is where the position of authority comes in... overcoming your struggles as a male youth and becoming a cop or correctional officer.

There are so many great cops out there! But, I haven't met many of them. Because not everyone overcomes their past and becomes a good cop. Whatever they grew up with or were born with makes them relish power, control, and violence.

I, a lower class (former middle class) white woman, have been victimized by the police. If you think that's a fucking joke because I'm white, refer back to the original point: POLICE VICTIMIZE PEOPLE OF ALL AGES, RACES, GENDERS, ETC.

A few years ago I read an article about a rapist cop. He raped more than one woman, but when they reported it, they were dismissed because he was a cop. His peers made sure he was above the law. So then he rapes an older black woman, someone's grandmother. She raised hell and he finally got in trouble. Was she listened to because she was black? HELL TO THE NO, women are treated like shit. A black woman? I've seen black women treated horribly my entire life. It's just how it is.

But no one felt like bringing this pig to justice, because, well, white male cop. Cops obviously deal with criminals and folks they will naturally regard as lower class, and none of these folks are going to be believed over a cop. From dating men of questionable backgrounds, I have heard horror stories of prisoners being beaten by cops and correctional officers and all kinds of shit. But who is going to believe some felon over a police officer?

May marked the 4 year anniversary of my ex-boyfriend almost killing me. It was hell, I struggled all month. My mom having cancer, the anniversary, the pandemic, now everyone running around setting shit on fire because they want free TVs... HOLY FUCK. PTSD trigger much?

I've wanted to talk about that, but I felt I couldn't, because, well, he's stalked me since. How did this happen? People think I was a battered woman but that's not true. Women stay with abusive partners and I did not. I got with this guy knowing he had a record, as others before him, but did not expect the onslaught of mental illness. The guy before him was bipolar and would shut down, lay on the bed and just be totally mute or sob. This new guy, after about 3 months into a relationship, would have manic episodes that would lead to suicide attempts. Over time I found out that he was a diagnosed bipolar, and rumored (unconfirmed) schizophrenic. I begged and begged for him to stick to taking meds, which clearly helped over the course of months, but he would stop taking them because he felt he "didn't need them," which is the cruelest cliche of the mentally ill and why so many don't function at all.

So I ended up having to call the cops on him multiple times in the course of 3 years when he lost his shit. Not once did he ever harm me, although you can see, and I can see, now, that it was unhealthy and dangerous for everyone involved regardless. The first time I dealt with the cops over him was when he got a DUI in my truck with his friend. but the friend was driving. I woke up at midnight to this chaos and remember a black female cop intimidating me and screaming at me because I was standing near a beer bottle on the ground and I was "hiding evidence." Which was bullshit since the driver had already been arrested. Who the fuck cares about a random Bud Light bottle lying in my yard? The DUI was in Ocean City. Whatever.

The same fucking night my shitfaced, manic boyfriend logs onto my computer and reads like 7 years worth of texts between me and a male friend, accusing me of fucking him. After a long night of dealing with the other drama it was like hell never ended. He's on my computer, looking at everything I have and accusing me of cheating. Never met the dude, never tried to be with the dude, but that seemed pretty moot. Even if your partner has nothing to hide, you shouldn't be going through their shit. IF YOU DO NOT TRUST THE PERSON YOU ARE WITH, LEAVE THEM. IF YOU HAVE ONGOING ISSUES WITH MANIA OR PARANOIA, GET HELP.

Well, perhaps I seem a hypocrite in protesting violence against women, and I did something I'm not proud of: I punched the fuck out of him. He then got up and put my shotgun in his mouth. He didn't pull the trigger but obviously that scarred me for life. I called 911 and they chased him down in the woods and took him to the mental ward in Salisbury. I dealt with 3 male cops that were kind to me and said I did the right thing by hiding the gun afterward and calling 911. My neighbor also helped me, which I am incredibly grateful for.

I should have left, hands down. But because I never felt physically threatened by him: I felt I was helping him, he could get better, and I kept trying. I have never been a woman that wanted a "project" as some people want, where they find someone to fix or better as a person. But I loved this man and tried my best, stupid as I was.

He was fine for months after that, another huge factor in me staying. We were just boyfriend and girlfriend, enjoying life, until he had another manic episode. Once he went 6 months with no signs of anything at all. Again, at this point in things, I have nothing to candycoat in my life. I am an open book, and in 2018, came out about being raped by a man in 2011, and got judged harshly. I've had to accept that no matter what I say, I will be questioned and put down because that is how victims are treated.

So in 2015 he came home late at night, screaming the FBI were in the bushes and smashing things. He accused me and a family member of conspiring with the government against him and stripped half of his clothes off, threatening to kill himself. Just like that, he would go from a calm person that worked all day to a raging maniac in the most literal form.

I called 911 and was in tears by the time two very tall male cops showed up. That is the main thing I remember, I am 5'2 and these men were both over 6'0 and stood way too close to me. My boyfriend was running around screaming utter nonsense and one cop talked to him, another talked to me. The two men ID'd me and laughed at the fact I always wore lipstick, in the pic and in real life, a habit since I was 14. Then they told me they weren't going to do anything with my boyfriend, who was still screaming and stomping around. I said, "but he's clearly unstable and threatening to kill himself." Both of the cops stood roughly two feet from me, and the heavyset olive skinned officer moved in even closer, shining his flashlight in my face, his breath bearing down on me, and said, "if you call 911 or anyone again tonight, you will both be arrested."

I felt scared of them at this point and they told me my option was to leave my home, leaving my boyfriend there. They asked me if I had family in the area and I said no. "Well, we can't help you then. Plus we want to go and get dinner," the thick one said, before laughing with his partner, who was a thinner blond man. So they waited until I got in my car and left, then they left, leaving my ex still standing screaming in the middle of the yard.

I had nowhere to go, so I went to his aunt's house and spent the night. At one point in the night I heard my boyfriend's truck screech through Berlin, looking for me, but knew I couldn't call 911 anymore because I WAS threatened. And cops can do what they want, no one is going to listen to some white trash chick with a crazy boyfriend.

I called 911 one other time before things got truly worse (I know, right). I got one of the cops that I had dealt with when he put the shotgun in his mouth and he threw him in the mental ward after a brief car chase.

By spring 2016 my boyfriend wasn't working, binge drinking, and seeming off on a regular basis so I somehow managed to drop him off at a homeless shelter despite him initially standing in a Wendy's parking lot screaming I was out to get him.

Finally, in May he became increasingly manic before literally waking up one morning with this weird hollow look in his eyes and screaming the worst threats against me and his family I had ever heard. First I tried to be calm, then I tried to run from him when I thought he wasn't looking and he ran after me and jumped on me. And that was the first time I felt actually afraid that he would hurt me. I thought he would hit me. Instead, he dragged me through the woods by my ankles so hard my leggings were pulled down and became filled with dirt, leaves, and sticks, threw me on the porch and then dragged me into my house. He tortured me for 1-3 hours. I think it was between 1 and 2 hours. Years later I sat down with a shrink and told her, I can't remember, I truly can't. I just remember the intense fear and shame of what it would be like for my dad to come into my house and find me dead. The doctor pursed her lips as she listened to me and reassured me that people with PTSD often have trouble remembering details. In fact, I couldn't piece together how bad the whole thing was until 2018, around the same time I talked about being raped, because I had repressed memories so hard. There was a point where I vividly remembered everything both men had done to me respectively, including a lifelong physical injury I had also blocked out. Like, I knew it was there, I just never allowed myself to think about why.

Instead of killing me, thank fuck, my boyfriend left me lying on a plastic floor mat he had just put a cigarette out in that he been holding over my eye and walked out of the house, stealing my truck. So I called 911, in a sort of daze I seemed the most worried about the stupid truck. But I really couldn't comprehend anything at that point. I shouldn't have bothered calling, because ding-dong, who is at the door, but one of the cops that essentially kicked me out of my house in 2015, leaving me to wonder if my boyfriend would kill himself or burn the place down. The thin, blond cop. The first thing I noticed was his eyes when I spoke to him that day. His pupils were tiny pin-pricks and it was shockingly noticeable. He looked like he was blind or something, because he had wide blue irises with these teeny tiny pupils. Frankly it was creepy, but wasn't relevant to the situation. I told him my ex went nuts, then stole my truck. He starts screaming at me and asking me what I wanted to do, and why the hell did I call. I completely shut down and just felt scared of him. Thinking about telling him about the assault just evaded my head, all I could think was that I was being cornered and I had to get away. He walked around the yard looking at other shit my ex had torn up, yelled at me some more, then left. This cop was almost manic and I was afraid he would arrest me for annoying him.

I finally got my truck back with the help of my grandmother after watching my boyfriend acting insane in front of his boss, who he had driven to. The man got a restraining order against him that week after seeing the violent instability and I made our breakup official at the same time. I knew I was done the second he dragged me through the woods. That was the first time he had ever put hands on me and the torture session would be the last. (I was lucky in that he had tossed me around and suffocated me in a headlock, etc., rather than getting a knife or something... it could have been so much worse.)

At this point, regardless of what people around him did, my now-ex was clearly gone mentally. Not sure how or why it got that bad, but all of his issues just imploded on him at once, almost overnight. So 2016 to 2018 he stalked me and made my life a living hell. He called me and I was afraid to disconnect my number right away because I felt it was a way of tracking him/how dangerous he was any particular day. After screaming for him to leave me alone and calling the cops even more times failed, I felt I had to be nice to him to keep him at bay, or when he started coming into my job, so I wouldn't make a scene. I finally got a domestic violence order in 2017 and stood before the court and described my assault so the judge to decide if I had just cause.

About a month after that, my ex called me threatening to kill himself so I felt super happy about calling 911. Finally they would put his ass in jail. A cop in his early 20's showed up, flirted with me, called his boss and they told me that there was not enough cause to jail my ex. The cop told me to "just talk things over" with my ex and then left after staring at my tits through my sweatshirt.

More time goes by, more bullshit, afraid to go to work, afraid to come home at night. Mace didn't make me feel safer, guns didn't make me feel safer, having coworkers didn't make me feel safer. My dad was screaming at me that I had brought this all on myself by being with a nut for so long. I felt like a hunted animal. My boss complained about me calling out of work over this. Finally my ex's other ex-girlfriend who he was with after me comes into my job, says he assaulted her, and that he was dangerously obsessed with me and my boss finally took me seriously.

I couldn't do anything about phone calls or online harassment. He would message me online telling me he hated me and stuff and I would just block him. Then, one day in September, during Ocean City bike week, he showed up on a bicycle, cornering me in the parking lot of my job as I walked to my shift. I was in utter terror and for a moment he looked like he would attack me again but I just kept on walking, and did not pause. My coworker wanted to know why I was being confronted and I said "THAT'S HIM, THAT'S HIM. I'M SO SORRY, NIKKI, I'M NOT CLOCKING IN RIGHT NOW. I AM CALLING 911."

Two cops showed up, a male and a female and ID'd me, and looked at my DV order. I asked if it was okay for me to lift the sweater on my front seat up to get my purse and the male cop brushed that off, acting like I was a non-threat. But I knew I had to move slow, because, well, cops shoot people. White, black, male, female, non-bindary-gender, whatever.

They saw I had all my paperwork in order then they started fucking yelling at me! They told me they really didn't have time to look for him since it was Bike Week and they were busy! I don't know what else they said to me, I think they were confused about what phone number I used the most because I had 2 at that point. I broke into tears and the male cop said "you don't have to do none of that." I walked back into the store and they came back in again, and my coworker told everyone later on how nasty the cops were too me. I knew it wasn't just me but it was good to finally have a witness this time around.

They looked around for my ex at two known locations then gave up, I had called and asked. 3 days later he attacked his other ex, the one that I had spoken to and they arrested him on both that and my DV order. He was jailed for several months and since then his stalking has been infrequent aside from him popping up on Tumblr this winter to make fun of my cat dying. Because I left him, for assaulting me, he now, in whatever the fuck is left of his mind, wants me to live a life of hell. During one phone call he screamed "YOU WILL NEVER BE HAPPY UNTIL I'M HAPPY."

I'd love to count on him staying gone, but I know better. His brother added me on FaceBook not too long ago and I said hi, and he said "you know you're the love of my brother's life, right?" I told him I wanted nothing to do with my ex. "Not even friends?" I told him that my ex tried to kill me then made my life hell and he said he didn't know and the conversation ended.

I'm not afraid of my ex's brother. I don't think he added me purely to help my ex. This man isn't crazy. This man didn't try to kill me, and isn't going to. But the sheer mindfuckery of it: how can you try to get back with the woman you abused? How can you use threats to try and get back with her? Another time my ex called me and screamed over me posting pictures with my last ex, mocking it. Why would I be with him, instead of the guy that abused me?

...Why would I want to be with a guy that I felt safe with that never abused me? Golly gosh, no idea. But it's all just a headfuck that I will be scarred by for life.

Summary: Cops and the severely mentally ill are capable of ruining the lives of anyone, of any color. 🤷‍♀️

[gabzep]

Betrayal Outtake

Darius POV

When he first saw Peeta sitting at Sae’s stall he was curious as to why the baker boy was here, at the hob of all places.  One would think Peeta would have gone into hiding because of the nasty rumors going around regarding him, Delly and Thom.  But after Peeta told everyone what Delly had done to him they all felt sorry for the poor guy.  Life in the districts is hard enough without your own friends screwing you over. 

There’s really not much to do in district 12, so he reads when he’s not on duty.  That’s one thing he and Katniss have in common, books.  She gets them from Madge and his family will send him some from district 2 so they borrow from each other.  Afterwards they’d get together at Sae’s stall and share their opinions about the characters, what they liked or dislike and so on.  They are like their own little book club, members 2.  It still doesn’t stop Sae from throwing her opinion in every now and then.  So what happen to Peeta actually reminded him of a book they had read ‘Wolf’ something.  It was a college campus murder mystery.  The main girl was drugged twice but unlike Peeta she had friends that kept an eye out for each other.

This is not good he hadn’t heard of anything like this happening here before and he didn’t what anyone to get the idea that this was ok.  He needs to talk to Cray to see if they can charge Delly with something.  He heads over to Cray’s house and hopes he isn’t entertaining a guest.  He thinks it disgusting that Cray and some of the other Peacekeepers take advantage of the poor seam and on occasion merchant women desperate for money to keep their families going.  It’s nothing he could do about it; he’s heard this has been going on for decades.  Some even said it was worst in this district before Cray.  He knocks on the door.

“What do you want?” Cray yells as he opens the door.

He tells Cray about Delly drugging Peeta and the possible impact on the rest of the district if others decide to pull the same stunt. 

“Huh, sounds to me that idiot Delly slipped some sleep syrup in the white liquor.  It’s strong enough to mask the sweetness of the syrup.  Morphling wouldn’t have knocked him out after 3 drinks.  He’d be high but still awake.  Nothing we can do about it unless we trump up something else to charge her with.  Besides no one died or was physically hurt” said Cray.  He is about to disagree when Cray continues.  “Look, if we officially do something it will have to be reported.  I would have to include where and when it happened, every detail of that party that the kids had in that empty Victor’s House, which is illegal and would be seen as an 'organized meeting'.  Which to the Capitol that ‘meeting’ would be a more important” Cray said.

He goes on to explain that it’s better for district twelve that the Capitol ignores them and the best way to do that is by not bring in any attention to it.  Before he had taken over the head peacekeeper back then was vicious, there were plenty of hangings or executions by firing squad, daily whippings, and the stocks were always full.  It took a long time to get it to where it is today.  Reporting the people that died of starvation as executions, disabling the cameras, overlooking offenses such as Gale, Katniss and now Rory’s poaching along with the house parties the merchant kids have in the Victors Village.  Trying to prevent ‘mining accidents’ by not reporting the rebellious talk that he knows is going on down there.  He also mentions the unrest that has lead to uprising from districts 11 and 8 which has gotten worse since the 74th hunger games.

“We need to keep our heads down.  And I’m not about to whip or throw a teenage girl, who just had a baby two weeks ago into the stocks.” Cray concludes. “The paperwork alone isn’t worth it.”

“It doesn’t have to be official.  We need to do something to remind her and others in the district that this will not be tolerated.  We’ll hit them where it hurts the most, the business” He says.  He can’t let it go.  Katniss is his friend and she and Peeta suffered from Delly’s selfishness.  

“As long as you don’t burn it down I’ll look the other way” Cray said as he slams the door in his face.

He leaves Cray’s and heads off to find Peeta’s brother Rye.

Rye POV

He watches as Peeta hurry’s out of the bakery backpack over his shoulder, nervous but hopeful.  He wonders if Katniss will give Peeta a second change or will she be too stubborn to even let him explain? 

They had all been surprised she had given him a chance in the first place.  She always came off as surly and indifferent but once they got to know her, she was not so bad, sarcastically funny even, which he could appreciate.  She also managed to win over mom but maybe that had something to do with the fact that Katniss kept them well stocked with fresh game and not just squirrels but also turkey, geese and on occasion deer.  Mom started selling meat pies that became a big hit with the peacekeepers and their profits went up something they’d never have been able to do with the expensive butcher meat.   Of course Peeta always gave Katniss the best of the bakery fresh bread, cheese buns and cookies for Prim. 

Then everything went to hell.  “Delly” he snarls, just saying the name brings a bad taste to his mouth.  Who in the world does something like that to someone?  Bitch.

He feels guilty too.  He was too high that night to notice what was happening and to stop it somehow.  All he can vaguely recall was Katniss running out with a devastated look on her face.   Madge told him everything will work out just to give it time.

But he can’t.  He still remembers when Peeta came over after he heard about Katniss and Darius.  He was heartbroken, drinking himself sick.  Crying helplessly because he had happiness in the palm of his hands and it slipped away.  Raging that he’d always be tied to that harpy, how he couldn’t stand Delly.  He will never be happy again and how he wished he were dead. 

After that he took away Peeta’s liquor.  Helped him sober up.  Made him promise he wouldn’t hurt himself.  He looks at his broken brother, this is not the Peeta he knows. His brother was kind and selfless.  Out of the three brothers he is the best one. Now he was quick to anger, snapping at everyone for everything.  Delly caused this and he was going to make her pay.

He didn’t mention it to Peeta.  Didn’t want to distract him from his goal to win Katniss back, but he had run into Darius yesterday on the way to the hob.  They came up with a plan and they were to meet at the Victors Village tonight and to bring anyone that wanted to help.  He recruited his older brother Bannock, his girlfriend Madge and his best friend Conor.  He doesn’t know who Darius will ask but he has a pretty good idea.

The minute his shift is over he hurries upstairs to his room changes into dark clothes, grabs the general store shopping bag and rushes down the stairs, the contents in his bag clanking. “Later Pops” he calls out as he runs out the door. He’s to swing by Conor’s house first and rolls his eyes when catches sight of May, Conor’s girlfriend and her brother Mark who are all dressed in black too. 

“Peeta’s our friend too” is all Mark said.

He hands Conor the bag, “Fine, go on ahead; I’ll meet you all there, its house #4.”  Same thing happens when he reaches Bannock’s house and spots him with his two buddies.  He’s not sure if they are here to support Peeta or to relive the glory days of their youth.  He sends them up ahead too.  They can’t all be seen together, ‘Organized Meeting’ and all that.  He wonders what Darius will say with all the people showing up. 

His last stop was Madge’s; at least she didn’t have anyone with her since Katniss is her best friend.  Madge had told him how Katniss had opened up to her more once she started dating Peeta.  She was teaching Katniss the piano and Katniss would take Madge out into the woods and show her how to shoot.  That’s how he met Madge through Katniss. 

He’s in shock when they arrive in Victor’s Village house #4, where the hell did all these people come from, he spots Purnia along with a couple of peacekeepers he recognizes.  There’s Gale with a few of his crew members, Bristol is one of them and the others he vaguely remembers from school.   Rory, Vick and Prim, he can’t believe she’s here to.  Well make sense, since it was her sister that got screwed over too.  

What the hell is that smell?  It makes him gag and he puts a hand over his nose and mouth to try and block out the stench.  It smells like shit and piss, that’s when he notices the bucket by Prim and then it clicks.  Oh hell yeah! Why didn’t he think about that? They walk over to Prim; he has to hear about this. 

“Who’s brilliant idea was this” he points at the bucket.

“Prim’s” said Rory

“Its animal dropping I mix up to make fertilizer for our medicinal plant garden” Prim explains.

“And the piss” I ask.

Rory and Vick groan, hands on their stomachs.  “I’m never going to drink water ever again” said Vick. 

He guffaws, note to self ‘never piss Prim off.’

Prim hands Madge some gloves so she can help them funnel the shit and piss concoction into balloons.  Better Madge than him, he thinks.  He sees Bannock and Conor doing the same with a bucket for orange paint.  He walks over to Darius who’s talking to Haymitch.  

“Is that what Cray told you.  I can see him wanting to take the credit but it’s actually Mayor Undersee’s doing.  Cray just goes along with it; he’s drunk off his ass most of the time.  Still works in our favor. “   Haymitch says.  Just then Darius turns and catches sight of him.

“Glad you can join us Rye” said Darius.

Once all the balloons are done he and Darius start to organize everyone into groups.  They are going to hit the shoe shop in two waves.  First with the cans of black spray paint he purchased and the next with the balloons of paint and shit.  They have to be fast with the balloons because they will defiantly make noise with they hit the window and walls.  Gale, Bristol, Bannock and his buddies pick the shit balloons, totally exited, yep glory days.  Vick, Rory and the girls get the paint ones.  The rest of the group will do the spray paint.  It’s pretty late so there shouldn’t be anyone out at this time but Purnia and the other peacekeepers are to be the look outs and redirect people away for the shop if needed.

They make their way to the shop as quietly as they can.  Darius had told them not to be to profane, kids will be reading them too.  Fuck that, he’s going to paint every expletive he can think of.  They reach the shop and get to work.

Unlike the walls that can easily be painted over to cover the writing.  He chooses the window it will have to be either replaced or they will have to scrape the words off.

“Really Rye” Darius whispers “Rapist”

“What?” he whispers back “Let’s call it what it is.  It’s what you’re trying to prevent isn’t it”

Darius just gives him a look and continues spray painting ‘Peeta was drugged ‘and then ‘watch your drinks’

“Fine” he says and sprays the word ‘attempted’ right above it.  Darius just smiles and shakes his head.

Once that’s done the rest circle the shop each setting a pile of balloons at their feet.  Darius gives the signal and they start to throw.  Half way through, the girls start to giggle and the guys try to stifle their laughs.  It’s no good he, Darius and the others go and help them out to finish faster not caring where the balloons land.  They’re about done when all of a sudden the lights to the shop turn on.  They all scatter, laughing away as they head back to their homes. 

In the morning he’s leaning up against the bakery door, his dad right behind him looking across the way to the shoe shop.   Mr and Mrs Cartwright, Delly’s brother Devin and Delly are working away trying to clean up what that can.  There are several groups of people, seam and merchants standing around pointing and reading the words that had been written.

“You have anything to do with that” his dad asks.  He just shrugs his shoulders.  Delly looks his way and he reaches into his apron pocket and pulls out a can for black spray paints a little and wiggles it.  She quickly looks away.  That right bitch that’s what happens when you mess with my family he thinks before heading back inside.

Wolf: A Jessica James  Mystery by Kelly Oliver

[andromedahawking]

NaNoWriMo Day 2

Day 2, 3,334 words total, complete! Have a look at today’s 1,667!

“Right…” she said. “…I’ll get it out of the way, you and I are both thinking about election day, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m not looking forward to it. It’s going to be one of the closest in recent history.”

“Closer than ’64, do you think?”

He frowned as he thought about it. “On an electoral level, probably not, but popularly, it’s going to be very tight. It could go either way.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it, but… it’s hard,” she said. “I turned off my WiFi in October.”

“Same here,” he said, laughing weakly. “God, it’s just… it’s so much to think about. I want it to be over.”

“It’s never gonna be over,” Maria said. “They’ll be talking about this 'til the day we die.”

“Well, at least they’ll have less to speculate about by next Wednesday,” he said. “We’ll have a winner by then, and they can only analyse so much stuff.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said.

They ordered their meals, as well as some wine.

“So, that’s the elephant in the room out of the way, I guess,” John said.

“Yeah,” Maria nodded. “Good thing it got out quickly. I hate not talking about things like this when they obviously need to be talked about.”

“I agree with you,” he said. “It’s better to just get it out there, and spoken, so that way you can forget about it and you don’t have to deal with it later.”

“Exactly! I’m glad at least someone understands that.”

“Do you deal with a lot of people who don’t do that?”

Maria laughed. “I could write you a list a mile long with the names of all the people like that in my life. Nobody seems to want to talk about anything important! It’s all just, the weather this, and how's your sister that, and blah, blah, blah, nothing of importance is ever talked about! I could spend my time watching paint dry and get just as much out of it.”

“Goodness,” John chuckled quietly. “It sounds like you’ve had to endure this for a long time.”

“Years, John. Years.”

“Well, not to make you jealous, but thankfully, I spend a lot of time around straight-shooters,” he said, sipping his wine. “The curse that seems to follow me around wherever I go is that nobody ever takes me seriously when I want to be.”

“Ugh. That’s no good.”

“No. The only time anyone listens to me is on Sunday mornings, and even then a lot of the pews are filled with blank stares and moving hands.”

“Oh, is that what you meant when you said you have church stuff?”

“Yes, I have to get back home for the Wednesday service at my church.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Most people here don’t go every day.”

“I got lucky, I suppose.”

“That’s good. I sort of contribute to the problem,” she said. “I go on Sundays, but the rest of the time I just sleep in.”

“Well, that’s better than not going at all,” he said.

“Yeah, but… it feels like I’m being fake. Which would be an extra helping of guilt to add on, seeing as I converted instead of being born into the faith.”

“Your parents aren’t Christian?”

Maria smiled, tightly. “No. They are not Christian.”

John’s mouth twitched upward a tiny bit. “It sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“There is,” she hissed through her teeth. “I’m assuming yu’d like to know what it is?”

“If you wouldn’t mind sharing it.”

“Okay then.” She cracked her knuckles. “This one is gonna be fun.

“So, both of my parents were raised in religious families. My mother was born in New York, and she grew up in a Protestant family that didn’t really take the whole thing too seriously. So she just sort of called it quits when she moved out, right? Then my father, he was born in Ohio, and grew up in a Catholic family that took it very seriously, which isn’t really that big a surprise, because Catholics, right? So naturally, he hated it, and when he moved out he also ditched the faith.”

“Sounds like two sides of the same coin,” John said. “Your mother lapses because it wasn’t taken seriously enough, your father because he felt it was taken too seriously.”

“A match made in heaven,” Maria said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “So when they got married, they agreed their kids wouldn’t be raised under a religion, but under the absence of religion! Isn’t that neat?”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me they raised you as an antitheist?”

“Mom didn’t give a damn either way,” Maria said, “but Dad. Holy shit, he hated the idea of me or Thalia joining any sort of religion. We were raised in a godless house with no access to anything of the sort. I couldn’t even buy a Bible just to read it for the sake of curiosity!”

“That’s just not the right way to raise your children,” John sighed.

“I’m glad you agree,” Maria said. “So of course, aside from all the other shit that I had to put up with from them, I couldn’t breathe a word to them about maybe kinda sorta believing in something other than the hellish emptiness of death that supposedly awaits us in this godless universe. No, I had to keep my pretty little mouth shut. It was pretty much the only thing I didn’t tell them about, even after I left.”

“So you converted when you were a teenager?”

“Mm-hm. I got baptised when I was 17.”

“What about Thalia?”

“She doesn’t really care enough to think about big questions like that.”

John laughed. “That sounds like her.”

“Yeah, there’s me, the uppity bitch who’s always doing things, and then there’s Thalia, who’s somehow just as uppity, but can’t be bothered to do anything herself,” Maria said. “And people wonder why I drink.”

“Taking care of a sibling by yourself is hard work,” he said. “It’s only common sense that there’s going to be tension in the relationship beyond normal sibling rivalry.”

“I guess you’re right. And most siblings aren’t disabled.”

“Right.”

“At least she isn’t, like, paralysed or something. Blindness is easier to work with on a social level than a wheelchair.”

John gave her a look. “Well, that sort of depends on who you ask, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, John, I’m one person,” she sighed. “I know that I grew up dealing with this, but I honestly think that having her be blind is less of a problem in society than if she had some other disability. She can rely on her other senses to do the work her eyes can’t, which isn’t possible for someone who has, I don’t know, diabetes, or a spinal cord injury, y’know?”

“It's a fair point, I’ll admit, but at the same time, disabilities aren’t created equal, so trying to compare them is a cyclical argument,” he said.

“You obviously need either more wine or less, saying something like that.”

—

They ended up walking around San Francisco after lunch for a couple of hours. Then John had to get to the Hyperloop station, and Maria’s phone went off with her reminder to go to the grocery store, so they said their goodbyes and quickly hurried on their ways. Maria still wished that John could’ve stayed the night, but now that “church stuff” actually had a description it was harder for her to be upset about it.

She got the groceries, and returned a little bit before 17. The sun kept getting caught in the rearview mirrors of the car, which pissed her off to no end. Then there was thinking about Thalia, which was an exercise in getting pissed off just by thinking, so by the time she got out of the car and went inside, she was in a pretty sour mood.

“Mornin’,” Thalia called out from the living room. “How was school today?”

“Thalia, I’m not in the mood to deal with your attitude right now,” Maria growled. “I got the groceries, did you shower like I asked?”

“Maria, I told you, I showered before you even texted me!”

“If I check upstairs, will Ms. Layton tell me the same thing?”

“Yes!"

“Okay.” She set down her backpack with a loud thump on the dining room table. “Just making sure.”

“What’s got you so ticked off today? Did you walk into a pole or something?”

“No, Thalia, I’ve just had a lot going on today, and my patience has long since been worn thin, so I’m trying not to lose my mind,” she said, pulling out her computer. “You can ensure tonight’s nice and quiet by not being a pain in the ass, m’kay?”

“Fine, Jesus Christ…”

“Hey, what did we talk about?”

“Sorry!”

Maria buried her head in her hands. “I can’t fucking win…”

—

In the end, the day could’ve turned out worse than it did. No group project work in History, meeting up with John went well, and all in all, the afternoon wasn’t the worst thing in the world either. Thalia kept pretty quiet and did her homework without a huge amount of bitching and moaning on the side, and Maria didn’t overcook dinner like Saturday night. By 21, she had finished up her homework for Wednesday, and had a few hours to kill before she absolutley had to be in bed.

So naturally, this was where dumb decisions were made, and she opened up the liquor cabinet.

“Breaking out the vodka, sis?”

“Shut up, Thalia. You’re not my nanny.”

“Thank god I’m not.”

“Thalia.”

“Thank goodness I’m not.”

“Thank you. And yeah, thank goodness you’re not, because I don’t think I could handle a 15-year old being my nanny.”

Thalia laughed at that. “It would be pretty weird to have someone younger than you looking after you.”

“Like having a boss younger than you.”

“Yeah. I would be so weirded out by that. Like, someone accomplished more than me, sooner, and they’re overseeing me? I wouldn’t like that.”

“All the more incentive to do well in school, so you never have to deal with that,” Maria said, pouring her glass. “Heck, you could be the young boss surrounded by older people.”

“Okay, I can get behind that. I would enjoy asserting my power over the elder masses.”

“You would, wouldn’t you.”

“What, like you wouldn’t?”

“I would,” Maria admitted. She downed her shot. “But then again, once you’re in your 30s, age stops mattering so much, so you wouldn’t really have as much of a power play.”

“Really?”

[diaryofanalcoholicsdaughter-blog]

2017

Probably a very different year in my life then anything else. I lost friends made friends which I lost dropped toxic friends and cut off all...well about all my family except one of my brothers who I barely talk to and a cousin who stresses me out by wanting to talk about family.

I've been reluctant to put a story into words. Not that it's a bad no its a bad story I guess. It was honestly one of the turning points that lead me to where I am right now.

It started when my dad asked me to drive him to the store. Honestly I was reluctant to but he said the magic words 'I'm going to stop drinking and smoking' he's already replaced his cigs with e cigs. Not a huge improvement but for once he seemed sincere. So I decided to drive him to the store. Mind you he and I hadn't said more then a few words to each other since he got out of jail and came home drunk and flipping out on me. Not a happy or fun moment. Thought very seriously about hurting myself that night but cried instead till I fell asleep.

 During the drive  he was oddly quiet. I kept asking which store he wanted to go to and he named one after a lot of probing. On the way to that store he asked to make a quick stop. It was of course a liquor store. At this point I had realized I enabled him a hell of a lot in tue past and was not about to continue that pattern. I gave in a lot before just to stop arguements and the growing doubt of if i was a good daughter or not. His favorite saying was 'youd do this if you loved me'. This time though I said no. He tried to argue me down but I stuck to my no and he mentioned my aunt would have taken him. I told him to get my aunt to fucking take him them. I was still very mad with her for buying him booze on the day he got out of jail for duis. We turned the car around and he called his sister on the way. As he sat on the porch and waited I took out the trash and completely un-promted he said 'on the 1st I'm moving out I don't know what your going to do but I'm moving to this state'.  Mind you it was two weeks before the end of the month.

 I'd grown financially depent  on my dad. He has a decent  disposable income being ex military and disabled. I made pennies on the dollar and nj was hella expensive so he paid rent and bills. I paid my car  note and other bills of my own and was usually broke. At the begining I just gave him and his fam my extra money.

The man who claimed to have raised me with such 'love and care' and always taken care of me was planning to leave me homeless in two weeks. The relief that hit me nearly knocked me out. It was fucked up but I was happy. My brain was like yessss bitch abandon me~  I'd been planning to move yeah but I kept flip flopping on the time line for when and where. Casually I said 'that's cool bye' which was *not* the reaction he wanted I found out later. I finished taking out the trash and went back inside. He then back tracked and said he would find a place for me to stay. I told him he didn't need to but he insisted since he didn't want me to be without a roof over my head. The end result was he would ask my gambling cousin if I could stay with her and he'd pay her rent.

Like I said that was the first turning point. But my job would have kept me there honestly. I was miserable but it was a comfortable miserable and I found in the depression and anxiety change was not something I wanted to embrace.  But the universe sent me signals saying fuck this job.

It all started when we got a new senior employee. She came in with a 'I'm the boss so you have to listen to me attitude' and a sense of knowing everything despite knowing nothing. It caused a lot of friction and drama kicked back in full force. People were going after each other's jobs people were dropping down to part time the new manager was firing people without hiring new staff. It was a shit storm honestly but at first I was pretty chill with it. I wasn't in any of the drama so it didn't matter to me. It wasn't till the new way of doing things affected the quality of life of our ladies that I started getting irritated. They were having more behaviors. The ladies were attacking each other left and right. And it was all sparked or boiled down to something the staff did to one of the ladies or the other. Despite all of that and the growing irritation I could deal with it. It still wasn't to the boiling point.

The proverbial straw that broke the camel back was an incident that resulted in me getting injured. Till that point I could still count on one of my fellow staff members to handle things in the correct way. Aka the way we had all be trained yet people tended to ignore it. One of our ladies was constantly attacking staff and peers and bullying people because people let her get away with it. It was a new behavior for her that increased in intensity because our mighty senior gave the girl anything and everything she wanted to avoid behaviors which triggered them. The girl acts up around the holidays anyway but this was more annoying simply all pf it could have been avoided. During a behavior the girl was about to be restrained when the manager burst in and tried to 'handle' the situation by demanding we let the girl go because she could 'talk to her and calm her down'. This particular girl tends to get up swinging a fact my Co worker knew. Despite knowing that and knowing the girl would go after me since I stopped her from running to attack my manager, my Co worker let her go. The girl got up swinging. I had walked away but my manager let the girl go and the girl came after me. The end result was the girl broke my glasses scratched up my face and I nearly lost my job but my Co worker pulled me back before I could get my hands on her.

At first I was just mad at my boss she had after all interfered without knowing what was happening and made things worse. But after I stopped the urge to go back and beat that bitch down I realized  my Co worker despite talking that sweet talk had betrayed me. She was afraid to lose her job over it but everything was up to standard. She had decided not to interfere where it mattered the most.

 In that job trust is needed. You need to have trust that if someone attacks you your Co workers had your back to save you. The one person I trusted didn't have my back and that was it for me. I mainly worked with her but I wouldn't be able to trust her if a situation came up again which they were happening more often. So I put in my two weeks notice and started saying me honest thoughts. Again relief and a tinge of disappointment this time hit me.