A number of people have inquired, so here’s the story about how I fought a meth dealer at three in the morning. Strap in.
So what you need to know right off the bat is that I just graduated from an art college in Portland, where I was an RA in the freshman dorm for the past 3 years. So there are 4 of the 5 contributing factors to my encounter with the meth dealer. The 5th factor that ties this human toe of a person into my life is that he was dating one of the residents, who was from Florida. If any one of these 5 factors had been different, I would not have rumbled with a member of Portland’s underbelly.
But Grace, you say, surely the person he was dating could have been from anywhere. Not everyone from Florida automatically has ties to meth dealers. To which I reply, Perhaps, Perhaps it is true that not every Floridian is meth-affiliated, but every resident at this dorm building who ever dated a meth dealer was from Florida, so how am I to know?
So this was my first year as an RA, and I’ll tell you guys, I’ll toot my own horn, because I’m damn good at this job. I have a great report with the kids on my floor and all my events have great attendance and when I bust parties and flush people’s weed, they apologize to me and worry that they’ve harmed our friendship. I got this job on lock down. So a few months in, when I start noticing a……………… recreationally homeless-looking gentleman coming to and fro during my lobby desk shifts, sometimes with bags of…………things, I start to think something is up.
‘The Fake AH Crew has been captured and is in police custody,’ says Sergeant Burns. They were caught when an attempted robbery failed due the train they hijacked being deliberately diverted manually by off-duty officer Miles Luna, who has since been promoted. This brings an end to the 5-year reign of the infamous….
“Alright Ramsey, that’s enough. Hand back the newspaper.” The guard steps into Geoff's cell to take away the newspaper he had asked for.
“I’ve barely started reading it,”
“You’ve seen enough.” The guard hands the newspaper to one of his fellow officers after shutting and locking the cell door. It clangs loudly, the noise irritating Geoff. The guard smirks at the grimace on Geoff’s face.
“Better get used to that sound Ramsey, you’re going to be hearing it a lot more in your future.”
“That’s what you think,” Geoff whispers to himself, as he turns away from the door, huddling closer to the wall. In his hands, he holds a pencil, knicked from the man’s shirt pocket.
“Let me out!” Michael is unsurprisingly yelling at the two guards still standing at his cell door. The third one had to leave after the first 20 minutes when the sound grew too much and caused a migraine. The two left had long since forgotten the rules and put in earbuds, blasting any kind of music they had to drown out the Jones boy’s voice.
“Hey Bitches!! Pay attention to me. Fucking look at me. Come on, I’m BORED!” And finally one of the officers snaps.
“Shut the Fuck UP!”
The guard opened the cell door and marches in, gun in hand. He aims it at Michael’s head.
“Shoot me.” With that, Michael grabs the guards hands, wrapping them in his own.
“Miss Patillo, if you cooperate with us, it could really reduce your prison sentence. Is it really worth throwing so much of your life away for these men?” The psychologist looks Jack in the eyes with her own tired ones. She smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. They look sad. Jack’s face mimics hers.
‘They saved my life.” Jack utters it quietly, looking down at her lap before turning her face to the side, losing interest in the conversation. “Besides, I don’t know anything. I’m just the driver.” Jack leans back in her seat and refuses to make eye contact.
The psychologist leans marginally closer to Jack, and whispers. “Do they really care about you?”
Jacks eyes widen, and she glares at the psychologist. They stare at each other for an eternity, then Jack leans, reaching out and grabbing the psychologists shirt. “You don’t know.” She rips the top button off and the psychologist gasps. Jack leans back again in her chair as officers rush into the room. The button slips into her bra as she crosses her arms.
“I’m bored Lil J,”
“Yeah, me too Gav.”
“Wanna play Patty Cake?”
“What are you, eight?”
“Got a better idea?”
The pair shuffles from their position of leaning against each others backs to sitting cross-legged in front of each other on the bed.
“This is dumb.”
“Just play along. Ready? Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man.”
“Bake me a cake as fast as you can.” A guard turns and stares at the two known criminals playing with each other like children.
“What are you doing.” The guard steps closer to the cell because surely this is some devious plan, and they must be hiding something because no way would two grown men be playing pattycake of all things while locked in a cell.
“Playing. It’s boring in here.” Gavin smiles sweetly to the officer.
“Are we annoying you? Sorry, that really wasn’t the intention.’ The guard falters at the innocent smile on Gavin’s face, and the almost shy way the other hides behind him.
“It’s okay, I guess.” The guard turns away, missing how Gavin’s smile changes, into something more devious.
“Why don’t we play a different game?” The pair stands. “Bet I can run into that wall before you can!”
“It’s on.” The pair grin at the guard as he turns to stop them.
“We’ve got you all Vagabond. Even if you escape, there’s no one left for you.”
The officers turned it into a game, to see who could rile up the vagabond more. It’s not as if there’d be any repercussions. The man’s been tied down for hours in the interrogation room. The door has been left open so everyone passing can see the infamous vagabond tied down like a dog, incapable of fighting back.
“You’re no threat. You’re nothing. You can’t do a single thing. The vagabond who’s killed more people than slept with caught by the police, along with his entire pathetic crew.” The officer taking his turn on the Vagabond is a thin and mildly pathetic thing. The highlight of his year is this moment. Ryan thinks he’ll kill him slow.
He becomes distracted however when he sees Jack being dragged past the open door. Her head is down, her red hair covering her face. Someone hurt her. Ryan thinks he’s let the guards have enough fun; he needs to get back to his crew.
Ryan feels around behind him with his hands. The cuffs are simple. The Vagabond knows everything there is to keeping someone captive, usually for torture and over the years he’s learnt you can escape cuffs. The cuffs slip off and he catches them before they clatter to the ground. Then he stands. The wooden chair legs break when he kicks his legs apart. Cuffs hung from his ankles and one wrist.
The entire room’s mood changes in an instant. Every single officer has a weapon in their hands within seconds, pointed directly at Ryan.
“A single step and we will shoot.”
Ryan grins and takes a step.
“Oi, Geoff, wake up.” There’s a pat on his cheek, and he opens his eyes. The rest of the crew stands around him. Jack is patting down Jeremy, ensuring he’s healed properly, while Ryan talks with Michael. Gavin is looking down at him.
“Is everyone all good?’ Geoff asks after climbing off the metal table.
“Yeah. It’s about 8 o’clock. Caleb brought us some clothes.” At the mention of his name, Caleb came forwards carrying Geoff’s suit. Looking around, Geoff noticed he was the last awake.
“How’d everyone get out?” He asked while pulling on his pants.
“Well, Jeremy and I ran head first, full speed into the cell wall. Broke our necks. Apparently, the officer who was watching us quit an hour later. Weak stomach. Probably good he’s not a cop anymore.” Gavin was smiling at Lil J, who giggled a bit. It was a surprising sound in the quiet of the room, but it made Geoff smile none the less.
“I got the cop to shoot me in the head. Made him angry enough he came into the cell and put his gun on me, so a grabbed his hands and made him pull the trigger. Dude’s probably fired.” Michael was grinning from his perch on another of the cold metal work benches. “Not as impressive as Ryan though.”
Geoff raised an eyebrow at Ryan who grinned sheepishly. “The had me in an interrogation room, me and about 12 cops. They all shot me when I escaped the handcuffs.” Ryan sounded embarrassed but Geoff beamed at him.
“Good job buddy. What did you do Jack?”
“Nothing amazing. I stole the psychologist’s shirt button and choked on it. Wasn’t the best way to go. They tried to give me the Heimlich.” Jack was blushing a bit. “What did you do Geoffrey?”
“Slammed my head down on the pencil I stole. Took a few tries though.”
“That sounds gross.” Gavin had wrinkled up his nose in distaste. Jack looked a little alarmed.
“Yeah, It’s not an experience I want to repeat. Come on, let’s go let the city know we’re back. I’m sure they missed us.”
I was a kid we had a very large German Shepard. When we put him
outside, he was on a 75’ rope tied to a tree. The dog could run all
around the yard and make it just up to, but not on, the driveway.
Unbeknownst to us, the paper boy (this was in the 1980’s) would drive up
to the edge of the driveway and rev his moped to tease our dog. He’d
rev and rev the engine while our dog would go nuts at the limit of his
rope, up on his hind legs trying to reach out and grab a hold of him
with his front paws.
Anyways, one day, the rope broke so my dad went to the hardware store
for a new one. The guy tells my dad, “We don’t have any 75’ ropes. Only
50’ or 100’.” My dad took the 100’.
I just wish I could have seen the look on my dog’s face the next day
when the paperboy came around and woke him up with that stupid moped. I
always imagine that dog taking a second to thank the dog gods, for the
day of reckoning hath come! Our dog charged, jumped in the air and
took the kid off his bike. The kid tried to get away, but our dog bit
down onto his ankle and dragged him back into the backyard. Eventually
he got away but had to call the police to get his moped back. The dog
was sitting patiently next to it.
We found out about it when the police came by that night to complete
their report. The next day, the kid’s dad called and told us not to
worry about him suing; his son was an idiot and got what he deserved
(that’s how we got the whole background).
Man and dog are connected at the chest by a single blue thread. They are very close, the best of friends. But, Dog is old and struggles to keep his feet on the ground and man can’t stand that, so he reels the thread in more and more and eventually ties it around Dogs neck to keep him close. Dog becomes tangled in the thread and distressed as he floats up higher and higher. Man must decide what to do next. Does he keep his best friend by his side, or let him go?
Film created by Sophie McPike Score by Rory McPike
Does Priya have any behavioral issues because of her life as a street dog before you got her?
She has some quirks, but it’s tough to say where they come from – hard to know what might be tied to her experiences as a former street dog, vs. what is just stuff that pops up with dogs sometimes. (I lean toward the latter interpretation mostly.) She has some dog-reactive / dog-selective quirks, but that’s not uncommon for dogs in general. She has some resource guarding tendencies, which I can imagine were probably nurtured in her first year of life when she literally scavenged for a living – but resource guarding is an awfully common behavior for dogs who’ve lived in homes their whole lives too. She also countersurfs (surfbort, surfbort) and has crashed multiple holiday dinners, but that’s more about human failure to remove temptation.
Summary:Dan never expected Phil to seriously notice him. Sure, maybe he’d glance at his sign and laugh, but not even in his wildest dreams did he imagine actually getting called up onstage to do the one thing he’d dreamed of for years. But what happens when a simple kiss unexpectedly turns into something more? Musician!Phil/fanboy!Dan AU
Word Count (for this chapter): 3.1k
Genre: Fluffy smut
Extra tags: Musician AU, concerts, first kiss, getting together, first time
Warnings (for this chapter): Smut (but nothing explicit), swearing
basically, dan is a total fangirl of phil, who’s a musician. phil does this thing, like halsey does, where he’ll be people’s first kiss at concerts. dan goes to his concert and phil notices dan, they kiss but it turns out to be a total make out session. you decide what happens next…
Yeah. Can you imagine how much I wanted to write this? Well, after nearly 3 long weeks, it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy!!
It dawned on me during our fifth year. When Snow followed me around like a dog tied to my ankle. When he wouldn’t give me a single moment of solace to sort through my feelings—or try to wank them away. (Which I eventually tried that summer. To no avail.) I wish I’d never figured it out. That I love him. It’s only ever been a torment. Sharing a room with the person you want most is like sharing a room with an open fire. He’s constantly drawing you in. And you’re constantly stepping too close. And you know it’s not good—that there is no good—that there’s absolutely nothing that can ever come of it. But you do it anyway. And then … Well. Then you burn.
SPN AU where Sam’s demon powers start manifesting a lot earlier, when he’s a kid, right after he learns about the supernatural. And he freaks out at first, but then he decides that this can be good, he can use these powers to keep Dean and John safe when they go hunting. So he practices, and he gets better, he uses his visions, his telekinesis, all of it, to protect Dean and John, even if they don’t know it.
And then he starts getting vision of other people in trouble and he just has to do something to help them. And one of them is a desperate woman trying to cure her daughter’s cancer, about to make a deal with a crossroads demon. And the demon is old, and strong, but this is Sam fucking Winchester, and even at eleven years old, he’s Hell’s future king, and when the fight’s over there’s a dead demon, and Sam’s got a Hellhound, and a contract, and a woman’s very soul in his hands.
And first he tears up the contract (because he doesn’t know any better), but after the woman tearfully tells him that destroying the contract destroys the deal, he sits down right there and writes up a new contract as best he can. And he has to take her soul, because that’s how the contracts work, but he promises the woman that he’ll keep her soul safe until he’s allowed to give it back, promises her that she’ll have a full, happy life with her daughter.
Then he takes his new Hellhound and goes back to the hotel and he studies every legal textbook he can get his hands on. Contract law, especially, refining the contracts he writes for the people he saves, rewriting existing contracts held by crossroads demons that he kills.
He manages to keep his extracurricular activities secret from Dean and John for almost two years. (They’ve never shown an interest in his studies before, why would they start now?) And then they move to a new town for a hunt, and Sam wakes up in the middle of the night with a vision of a crossroad summons, and he doesn’t see Dean following him as he sneaks out of the hotel room.
He’s been summoned not by the usual method, but by a young girl’s sheer desperation. She’s crying as she sits on a swingset, a dark bruise on her cheek, more on her wrists, and Sam sits down on the swing next to her and whispers, “I can help you.”
“Can you kill him?” the girls asks.
“No,” Sam tells her, “but I can make sure he doesn’t hurt you, or anyone else, ever again.”
“What do I do?” the girl asks, and Sam holds out a contract.
“Give me your soul,” he says, “and in ten years, I’ll find you and give it back.”
It’s not even a question for the girl; she signs the contract with hands that shake from gripping the pen so hard. And Sam lets his Hellhound off her leash, watches her disappear in a puff of smoke as she goes after the girl’s father. When she returns a few minutes later, Sam scratches her behind the ears and tells the girl, “You’re safe, now. I promise.”
Then he runs back to the hotel, intent on getting back before Dean and John notice him missing. Only he’s too late, and they’re waiting for him on the other side of the door, and Sam is strong, but they’re his family and he can’t hurt them, can’t even fight them. (When John calls him a monster, he’s not even sure he wants to fight.)
He spends the next several hours tied to a chair while John uses every exorcism at his disposal. Sam begs, and pleads, and screams until his throat is raw and his voice is gone, but his father is resolute. Sam’s Hellhound fled as soon as she could, whimpering in pain from the exorcisms, and Sam hopes that wherever she is, she’s gone somewhere where she’ll be safe and loved. (He wishes he could do the same, but there’s no safe place for him anymore.)
But then John steps outside to take a break, takes Dean with him so Sam can’t corrupt him, and Sam’s alone in the hotel room. And then the sound of a window creaking open, and the girl from earlier slips out of the bathroom and creeps over to where he’s tied to the chair.
“Your dog came to get me,” she whispers, as she works at the knots. “She’s distracting those two so we can sneak out the window.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Sam protests, and the girl gives him a small, sad smile.
“Neither do I,” she admits. “But anywhere’s gotta be better than here, right?”
When the ropes fall, Sam follows the girl out the bathroom window and across the parking lot to the woods on the far edge. They’re deep inside when the Hellhound joins them, jumping happily on Sam and licking him all over. Sam hugs her in relief.
“Thank you,” he tells the Hound, and then repeats it to the girl. “Thank you. I’m Sam Winchester, by the way.”