#i was so fucking bored in class so naturally i decided to recruit people into the mq fandom

[daydreaming-cheese-weasel]

AKDNFKEKKSMS IM READING 48 LAWS OF POWER BY ROBERT GREENE AND I HAD TO DO AN ASSIGNMENT IN LANGUAGE ARTS WHERE I HAD TO COMPARE THE IDEAS OF THE BOOK TO ANOTHER PIECE OF MEDIA SO I DID MYTHIC QUEST BECAUSE IT’S ALL IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT FOR A WEEK AND SO MY TEACHER GOT A FUCKING PARAGRAPH ABOUT HOW BRAD BAKSHI’S LIFE PHILOSOPHY IS THE SAME THING THAT IS TAUGHT IN THE 48 LAWS OF POWER

#i was so fucking bored in class so naturally i decided to recruit people into the mq fandom #i used the time brad manipulated rachel into getting dana’s job back #so i hope my middle aged white male trump supporting teacher likes lesbian romance in my assignment #actually now that i was think about it #im not sure if he’s still a trump supporter #i heard a rumor that he voted for him in 2016 but not sure if it’s true #i hope it’s not true lol #i also included brad’s money bin dream #cant believe i fit the entire plot of that episode into 6-8 sentences #i better get a fucking a #tw all caps

[mightydragoon]

Pray for Piett

@silvereddaye​

Piett isn’t paid enough for the skywalker family drama bullshit. 

(comprised in no particular order, some stories are more explicit than others with Pray for Piett) 

1.  Compromising -samvelg

5 + 1 Five times Admiral Piett misunderstands the nature of Luke and Vader's relationship, and the one time he doesn't.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539302/chapters/25908651

2. For Want of a Skywalker--- acuteneurosis

After the miracle of having survived Bespin, Piett does not ask why they are stopping on Tatooine. Or why Lord Vader suddenly has acquired a small child. Or why this child's name is Luke. Or how long they are going to keep him.

He probably should have.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044874/chapters/52612567

( Note* Part 1 of the Through the Eyes of the Beholder)

3.  The kidnappings of a Sith Lord - maedre13

How a certain Sith Lord may or may not kidnap his rebel son. One-shots. Strongly inspired by sparklight´s “Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn´t Get Away”.

Current chapter: In which Vader tries to arrange a marriage

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606992/chapters/23453241

4.  Living Relics-- planningconquest

Poe Dameron, on a routine flight, stumbles across an entirely new mess for the New Republic to deal with. Finding Imperial relics that can help with the galaxy's most pressing questions and problems.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113807/chapters/55303762

5.  Luke Skywalker Is Altogether Too Likable - Mokulule

A bounty hunter claims to have caught the empire's most wanted rebel, unfortunately for Admiral Piett, Lord Vader is not in attendence, so he will have to take the call.

Alternatively; the Piett POV story I have amused myself with for several months and that I hope others will also enjoy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14477958/chapters/33444051

(Note* Part of the  Likability Conundrum series ) 

6.  Firmus Piett Is Altogether Too Likable- Mokulule

This is a companion piece to Luke Skywalker Is Altogether Too Likable, it is basically the first chapter from Luke's POV with more background and angst.

Luke has been captured by the nasty bounty hunter Bossc Blackscale along with small Twilek child Nia, who was used as a hostage.

Now he's about to enter Imperial custody and he meets the most peculiar Imperial.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065363

(Note Complete Series below)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1300493

7.  Some Assembly Required - Mokulule

Luke desperately call out for help in the force. Darth Vader finally gets his hands on his elusive son, but he doesn't quite get what he expected.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394782/chapters/40941173

8. One Dream, One Vision- severnlight

After the disastrous duel on Bespin, more than mere words transpire over the newly forged bond between father and son. And this time, R2 is not so lucky with the hyperdrive. Darth Vader is beyond pleased to finally have his son in custody, but the Force keeps whispering something about the terrorist Princess as well. With the identity of Lord Vader's long lost son revealed, every being of some consequence from Core to Outer Rim is busy plotting their own schemes for Luke Skywalker. The young rebel is trying his best to navigate the new relationship with his father, and scramble a plan or two of his own. Admiral Piett and various unsuspecting Imperial citizens are entangled in the drama. Vader acts completely unpredictable, the threads of destiny are tossed up in the air, and the Galaxy holds its breath.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9817640/chapters/22044329

9.  Darth Vader Goes to School - LadyVader23

Darth Vader gets bored with killing people and decides to get a degree in Engineering. He develops an interest in his classmate, Luke Lars. Poor Piett becomes the awkward middle man.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905714/chapters/57477952

(Note* Vader essentially commits identity fraud on Piett to do a few online classes and Piett roles with it because what you want to say no to Vader, and gets tangled in the fuck up that is Vader’s life) 

10.   LIBERO per fidem, or How Piett Accidentally Hastened the War Because He Kinda Cared About Vader--ThreadSketchier

It's the Admiral's job to overthink things. This time, however, it's going to be both the best AND worst decision he's ever made.

(note* this is not technically a fic and it’s a private story but it’s still worth checking) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535980/chapters/53852038

11.. How (not) to cope with Skywalker family drama - prayforpiett

In which the admiral of the Executor tries to find ways to manage his stress. Like any sensible person, he tries to turn his frustrations into creative endeavors. And he also drinks. A lot.

Of course, it all gets worse when he starts to have stress dreams about a certain Luke Skywalker...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320452/chapters/58632580

(   Note* From the appropriately titled author PrayforPiett. )

12.  A Life Day Miracle - Mokulule

A few months after the Death Star was destroyed, Darth Vader gets an early Life Day present in the form of the child he'd thought he'd lost, now if only events wouldn't keep conspiring against him he would actually get to tell his son of their relation.

Luke and Wedge are very confused, this is not how they expected being captured by Imperials would go.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646887/chapters/41613821

(Note*  Mokulule again) 

13.  In Loco Pirates - izzythehutt

A down-on-his-luck Hondo Ohnaka manages to capture the unicorn of all bounties--Luke Skywalker, which sends Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on a painfully familiar trip to the planet Florrum to collect his prize. The failed negotiations leave Vader in the awkward position of being stuck in a besieged pirate bunker, trying to balance keeping his wayward child safe (and in his custody) with controlling the tongue of a loose-lipped pirate who--to the surprise of no one--has a bad habit of telling 'amusing' anecdotes from the Clone Wars.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841744/chapters/8574070

(Part 1 of  In Loco Pirates-Verse  https://archiveofourown.org/series/324137)

14.  Palpatine Ad Portas - izzythehutt

When the Emperor Palpatine moves the Empire Day Celebration to Naboo, Darth Vader is forced to confront a past he had thought better buried and forgotten. Admiral Piett becomes the reluctant confidante of the monarch, caught in the middle of a deadly Sith cat-and-mouse mind game. Meanwhile, the young Rebel who blew up the Death Star returns to his mother's home world to pay his respects on the anniversary of her death--unaware of his father and the Emperor's presence on the planet and the very grave danger he is in.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4819292/chapters/11034437

(Part 2 of  In Loco Pirates-Verse  https://archiveofourown.org/series/324137)

15.  Meet the Skywalkers - frodogenic

Newly returned from the Unknown Regions with Darth Vader, Admiral Piett doesn't expect much of a welcome from the New Republic. And not in a million lifetimes would he have predicted that their very first guest would be Luke Skywalker. After all, Skywalker and Vader are still mortal enemies...right?

Multichapter prequel to Lord Vader's Limpet and Driving Lord Vader.

Chapter 14: The Lady’s 25-year sojourn enters the final risky stretch.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158216/chapters/18696025

(Note* Part 3 of the  Limpet AU,  see more here  https://archiveofourown.org/series/554200) 

16.  in an endless universe----loosingletters

Chapter 8 , 9 and 10 : Grandfather Vader AU 

Luke has a kid to raise and the Empire might not care much about its personnel, but at least it pays its mechanics well. Enter Darth Vader.

Part 1:https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955416/chapters/55002466

Part 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955416/chapters/55067716#workskin

Part 3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955416/chapters/56968354#workskin

(Note* Link to full series : 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955416/chapters/57641386) 

17.  Allegiance - KaelinaLovesLomaris

Luke is captured by Imperials while on a mission and ends up needing his father's help getting out of a tricky situation. What follows is shameless Luke and Vader father-son bonding, with plenty of action, angst, and fluff, as Vader finally has his son at his side and plots to destroy the Emperor. Everyone's favorite Imperial, Admiral Piett, plays a large role, as does Luke's fellow pilot, Wedge Antilles, and Boba Fett will probably make an appearance.

Post ESB AU, with canon divergence. This is not Dark!Luke. It is eventual Vader redemption.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745156/chapters/16127191

(note* Allegiance-verse series)

18 . Interview with a Sith Lord--- KaelinaLovesLomaris

Before Piett was the Admiral of Death Squadron, he was captain of the Accuser. And once Darth Vader learned of his son and realized he would someday need to take the Emperor down, he began looking for an admiral he could trust... Or how Piett got the job of captain of the Executor and eventually became admiral of the Death Squadron. This is in my Allegiance-verse, but it's not necessary to read Allegiance to understand this.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747338

( Note* Allegiance-verse series)

19. Twin Suns - EagleInFlight

ROTJ AU: Vader reached out into the Force, eager to teach this trooper a lesson when suddenly the old him woke from his slumber and an Anakin quip slipped out of his mouth: “Have the Empire become so desperate that they’re recruiting below the height requirement?” A wave of amusement splashed through the Force from the trooper. That signature... The trooper took off his helmet, jerked his blonde hair back from his eyes and stared up at him. “Explains why I can’t see out of this helmet.” Darth Vader was left utterly speechless. His son stood before him. His son was here of his own free accord. Luke flashed a smile that warmed Vader’s heart. “I’m here to rescue you.”

OR: Luke Skywalker sneaks on-board the Executor to rescue his father, Darth Vader.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289804

20.  Skywalker Family Values - Ariel_Sojourner

Camp Chippewa is proud to be the Empire’s foremost camp resort for privileged young adults. Located on the picturesque forest moon of Endor, your child will have the opportunity to participate in wholesome outdoor activities and socialize appropriately with their peers. We invite your offspring to join us for the experience of a lifetime and a bright future in service of the greater glory of the Empire.

On opposite sides of the galaxy, on opposite sides of a civil war, Darth Vader and Padme Amidala unwittingly send Luke and Leia to the same camp during school break. Chaos naturally ensues.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258124/chapters/32883750

(Note* Piett doesn’t feature in this as much compared to the others but dear lord still, pray for this poor man) 

21. Two and a Half Men (with a baby)- orphan_account

After a long day of bargaining with Hutts and attempting to ignore his past, Darth Vader is nearing the end of his rope. When he discovers his two-year-old son, it's the straw that breaks the semi-rational Sith Lord's back; in a rash act worthy of the Skywalker name, he scoops his son into his arms, steals a shuttle from his own fleet, and punches in random hyperspace coordinates to a destination on the other side of the galaxy.

Unfortunately, father and son are not the only ones on the ship.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420057/chapters/16853212

TAGS

Firmus Piett

Firmus Piett & Darth Vader

Feel free to add any more to the mix . 

#prayforpiett #star wars #pray for piett #sw #fanfic recs #dragoon's fanfic recs #ah shit here we go again #skywalkers #skywalker family drama #fanfiction #fanfic #recomendations #firmus piett #darth vader #luke skywalker #leia organa #skywalker #star wars fanfiction

[babiesdreams]

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, smoking, mentions of suicide, gore(?.

Renjun’s story:

She came to me when I was just sixteen. I knew something was wrong with me since a long time ago, but her presence made it worse. She always makes feelings much more intense and pure... It’s really hard to leave feelings aside.

You know my... powers are related to feelings, the purest feelings are the strongest power source. I’m basically a generator. Anger and sadness are usually the best ones.  

I finally got out of my home, I was gonna start a new life, a new stable and normal life. For once I wouldn’t be judged for being too shy, or not letting my feelings in, or for being “a psychopath” 

But then she passed by, offered me a cigarrette and whispered how she knew everything. I felt like my whole life plan ended right there, but she was right. If I simply ignore my abilities I’m only making it worse, I had to learn more about them, and use them in my own advantage. I needed to know how to properly control it before getting into another messy life, before hurting anyone else, so she was a savior at the time.

-------------------------------------------

“You have to meet them” 972 shouted at me. “I don’t want to, we can just go as a duo” I screamed back. “Huang Renjun, your anger levels aren’t under control, please relax, or I’ll have to call security” 

“I don’t want others to get involved with me” A soft wave moves the air around me, as I start getting more and more angry. “You know what happened” 

“Huang Renjun, control yourself or I might take action” 972 kept her angry tone, making it worse. “Let me go alone on the mission” My eyes fire up with anger, feeling how my power grows inside of me. “Stop. Now” She demands, making everything worse. 

A big explosive wave brushes the whole place, destroying everything on its way. I fall on my knees, crying for what I just did. “I can’t have a team, I’m a monster, I’ll fuck everything up” I shout with a broken voice tone. For a moment I thought she was dead, but then her voice sounded in the distance.

“We all are monsters here” Her voice whispers as her hand rests on my shoulder. “We... all... are” She whispers with a sad tone.

Shotaro’s story:

Since I was born, the weather changed along with my mood, if I cried, it would start raining. If I was angry, it would turn into a thunderstorm. I think you get it. The thing is that at first I was quite good at controlling my mood, but growing up made it harder and harder, to a point that I couldn’t control anything about it. I got scared of feeling, and isolated myself for months, but that only made it worse.

When I got in here, I wanted to learn how to destroy my powers, ended up knowing how to control them. Now it’s not at all linked to emotions, more like I have full control over the weather, I can change it as I want. 

I was known for being the best at controlling my powers and even if they’re not the most powerful ones I think my ability to control them made me stronger, that’s how I ended up being the leader.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys you need to practice more” I say calmly. “Why would we practice? we are quite strong” Jisung says, not taking his eyes off the screen as he plays some stupid videogame. “It doesn’t matter how strong you are if you can’t control it” I say calmly, trying to make them understand. “You’re just jealous of our powers” Jaemin spits out, taking another chip into his mouth.

“You all are bombs, uncontrollable bombs, that’s not useful at all. Sure you’re powerful, but you’re basically dangerous for everyone” I say with a more serious tone. “Should I make him think we are training?” Chenle asks to the rest. “I heard you” I tell him.

But all the mess calms down when Renjun stands up. “Let’s go train, he’s right” He says with a serious voice and everyone follows. I sigh, feeling useless in comparison to his natural leader abilities, but yet glad that he helped me with it. 

Jaemin’s story: healing body (His fluids heal any harm)

I realized when I was a kid, I used to cry whenever I got hurt and then everything was fine. It got more intense when I kinda saved my mother.

I was holding her hand, focused on the beats produced by some machine. The sudden beep, made me anxious. I didn’t really know what to do, I panicked and started crying and when I realized she was fine again. 

With time and some exploring I realized it wasn’t only my tears that healed people, but all my fluids. Someone could be dying and if I licked his hand, they’d be completely fine. It feels like a lot of responsability tho, you never know the story behind someone dying.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The agonizing man starts choking on his own blood, trying to breath, yet unable to do so. I roll his body, getting him to rest on one side, to stop him from choking. I take his bloody hand and lick his index finger. 

Seconds later, the blood stops coming out from his mouth, and the cuts on the man’s stomach dissappear. “What did you do?” He says with a low voice tone. I look at him challenging, sometimes people really are ungrateful. “I just saved your life” I reply, proud of myself.

“Nobody asked you to do so” He shouts at me. “S-sir, I saved your life” I say stuttering. “They are gonna get my family if I don’t die you idiot” He shouts at me. I step back, scared of his words, letting tears fall down my cheeks. “I-I didn’t, I didn’t know that” 

That’s where I discovered that saving a life sometimes mean killing others. Butterfly effect. Maybe someday I could have saved a serial killer and then how many deaths would I be responsible for? I needed to learn that I can’t save everyone and sometimes I need to let people die. 

Jeno’s story:

I was an average student when I found out. Well actually I was a pretty stupid teenager. Classes were boring so I just went around with my friends, play games, and live life I guess. One day I saw soe students bullying a transfered kid, and I got into the fight.

I have always been pretty strong, so fights were an easy task for me. However those kids were much older than me, and I was alone. So they basically beated me up, until I did it. I don’t even know how I did it, I was just angry.

Trash from bins started floating, making people concern as to what was happening. I’ve heard my eyes turn red whenever I use my abilities so that might have helped to make them fear me. But after that day I became the school’s king.

Being at that place I started to hating my powers. I just wanted to feel normal, to be normal. But I guess that’s something none of us can really achieve. So I just kept training my brain and try to be better.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Get out of the way” I say to Jaemin. The scared boy gets behind me, making me feel his shaking hands on my back. “So you want to die sir?” I say, looking at him with a fierce look. The man nodded, so sure of his decision, and I smiled at him.

“Have a nice trip” I say, while concentrating on the knife resting on the floor a few meters away. I held the knife mentally in front of him, pointing at his neck. “Do it” He says, crying desperately. “Look away” I whisper to Jaemin, before tearing his throat open. My figure gets covered by the man’s blood, while he dies slowly in front of my eyes. 

I throw the knife a few meters away, still not touching it for a split second. “It’s done” I say lowly, turning around to face Jaemin. My bloody hands hold his face, trying to calm him down. My fingers clean his tears, replacing them with blood.  “It’s fine” I whisper, letting him hug me tightly. 

The bloody scenario felt specially creepy under the moonlight, so I understand how Jaemin felt so guilty about everything. Still, he needed to grow up for future missions.

Jisung’s story: 

I remember looking up to superheroes like Spiderman or Hulk, or Superman. But being super strong isn’t exactly the best. Plus people don’t trust me when I say I’m strong. Of course, I tried to hide it, since all heroes in movies do that. But, it felt wrong somehow... Letting people take advantage of weaker people. Even letting people take advantage of me. 

So I decided to go anonymously, that way nobody would know who I was. But, again, nobody took me seriously. My family was also not doing so good, so I got into some illegal businesses. 

A guy decided to trust me and I started getting into street fights. I won money thanks to people’s bets. It wasn’t the best job, but at least I had something, and I stayed anonymous so they couldn’t interfere in my normal life. 

However I started to get tired of it and I stopped going there. I didn’t expect them to find me so fast.

----------------------------------------------------------

“We had a contract” The old man says. I couldn’t stop trembling from fear. “Put the gun away” A woman’s voice says from behing the old man. He turns around, to find out how his bodyguards were already dead on the floor. 

The gun the man was holding started melting in his hand. “W-what are you?” He asked stuttering. The girl chuckled, and inmediately after a hole appeared where the man was standing, making him fall. His fingers held the floor, to stop himself from falling helplessly. 

“Hi, Park Jisung , I’m 972, I would like to recruit you into our team. What do you say?” Her eyes were fiercer than any eyes that ever looked at me, kinda hypnoticing. The grunts of the old man resonated all over the room, but they eventually stopped when she stepped on his fingers, breaking them with her heels. The fall was slow and long, ending with a disgusting sound, as the old man reached the floor somewhere at the bottom of the hole.

“I’m interested” I finally say, shaking the smiling girl’s hand.

Chenle’s story: 

Changing people’s percception is so funny. I can literally get away from every situation. I’ve never got punished for anything at all. Plus I can do whatever I want, no limits, no judgements. 

Sure, sometimes I don’t quite control what they are seeing instead of what I’m doing, like that time I was borrowing some clothes from a shop and people were seeing me pee on the clothes. I got arrested anyway. But I know how to use my power, that’s why I think training is stupid. 

We are basically gods, our powers’ limits are barely there, so let’s just have fun right? right?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Let jun take care of this” 972 says, making all of us stay aside. I turn to look at Jaemin and Jisung, changing their perception so that they would see everything going fine, but I looked.

A loud sound scared all of us, and the buildings around the zone he was in started falling apart, getting reduced to ashes. People’s screams were really horrifying, something I will never be able to forget. And a loud growl from Renjun followed, filling the air with anger. “W-what happened?” Jaemin asked confused. 

“You have some work to do hyung” I told him, letting him finally see what really happened. He fell on his knees seeing all the victims from Jun’s powers. “You think you can do it?” I ask him doubting the limits of his abilities. 

“I can” His voice was shaky but I trusted 972′s plan. “Zhong Chenle get the living victims and make them think nothing happened. I’ll get the buildings back to normal. Lee Jeno, find the enemy’s body and bring it here. Remember, no fingertips on anything. Osaki Shotaro and Jung Sungchan get Na Jaemin to the victims. Park Jisung, you stay here in case I need protection” She ordered, while the buildings started getting back to normal. 

“On our way” We all shouted at the same time. It was something chaotic, but it worked out. “Now I’m gonna get an agent from unit V. Thanks for your collaboration, Unit D. You can all go now” 

Missions are always like that, cold-hearted and all about “Getting the job done”

Sungchan’s story:

I touched my grandma’s old clock. And I saw my grandfather, when he was younger, fighting in war, leaving home, giving her the clock. Everything happened in front of my eyes so fastly, I couldn’t really...

It took me a really long time to really get used to it. And when I did I hated the feeling. I wore gloves everywhere, so that I wouldn’t touch nothing directly. But avoiding it made it worse. Much worse. Because when it happened accidentally I could see more than what I normally would have.

The thing is that I thought my powers were more of an inconvenience than something useful. Until my father got that complicated case about a “Suicide” I touched the letter she wrote, and the chair he got over to hang herself up. Except it didn’t happen like that. 

Someone else wrote the letter and she was forced to stand on the chair that the man kicked, making her die instantly. I told my father my theory, and they got enough proof to take the responsible man. That’s when I felt like a hero. I thought I found my future profession as a detective.

I read all Sherlock Holmes books, idolizing what he did, wanting to be just like him, and now I have my chance.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I touched her face, and I saw everything she went through, who she really was. 

“Jung Sungchan, we talked about this didn’t we?” She says calmly. I nod, recalling her words about not touching her, probably to avoid me knowing her secrets. “We all have secrets here, we need to help each other okay?” I nod once again, and watch as her figure gets lost in the distance, still trying to process the information.

--------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist –requests open– How to request?  Check out your score.

Check superhuman series in here

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct reactions #nct dream #nct dream angst #superhero #nct superhero au #hero #nct dream hero #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop reactions #kpop scenario #requests #requests open #nct blurb #nct blurbs

[cinebration]

The Hyena (Ulysses Klaue x Reader) [Part 1]

Premise: You bring the notorious Ulysses Klaue a proposition on behalf of the CIA—and your own ambitions.

This fic takes place between Age of Ultron and Black Panther. Let me know if y’all want to be tagged and if y’all want more!

Part 1 | Part 2

Tagged: @illbegoinhome​​

Warnings: language

Gif Source: schreiberpablo

You were quiet. You hadn’t learned that in training, although it reinforced it. You simply understood at a young age that sitting still and remaining silent made you invisible to all but the most attentive. It afforded you one advantage other recruits from your graduating class years ago would have killed for: intel.

When people forgot you were there, they spoke freely.

You were all ears.

In the shithole bar, you sat in a corner, pretending to nurse a piss-poor beer. The bar, exclusively populated by scum, rumbled with the combined conversations of its patrons. The cacophony of deep-belly laughs and fuck-punctuated sentences assaulted your ears. You wanted to run from the place, disgusted by the sticky tables and mucky floors and the fucking heat. It was too fucking humid in the place. Your clothes stuck to you, the non-frizzed parts of your hair plastered to your skull and neck.

Two days hanging around in this dive. You were past the end of your patience.

“The crazy fucker is losing his shit,” one of the South Africans at the bar groused. “He’s tearing through everything to get more vibranium.”

You shifted your attention, fixing it on the speaker. Rail-thin, he sucked down a beer without coming up for air. A Glock stuck out from the holster on his hip.

“He should get it where he fucking found it,” his companion muttered.  “Maybe he’ll die in the process.”

You waved down the bartender, who all but scurried to your table, eager to please the only female patron of his bar in…forever. “Refill that man’s drink,” you said, handing him enough cash with a generous tip added. “On me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Leaning back in your seat, you waited. The bartender plunked down a sweaty glass of beer I front of him, gesture in your direction.

The man glanced over. Suspicion lined his face. Rising, he strode over to you but remained standing.

You pulled a small wad of cash out of your pocket, just enough for him to see. “I’m looking for your boss.”

“I’m my own boss,” he snapped.

You made a show of looking him over. Shaking your head, you looked away. “Nevermind. I thought you were someone important.”

He glanced for the money you had secreted back into your pocket. “You gonna pay me?”

“That money’s for someone who can connect me to Klaue, but you said you don’t work for him, so no dice.”

“I can get you in touch.”

“I want a meet. Here.” You stared him directly in the eyes.

“Pay me and I will.”

Sighing heavily, you shook your head. “After you deliver.”

The man swore, shaking with anger, and stormed from the bar. The attention you had attracted by the interaction held for a moment. You let your gaze fall back to the table, remaining as unaffected as possible by the hard, suspicious gazes of twenty men burning your skin.

You waited an hour. The moment your watch showed sixty minutes had passed, you decided the man wasn’t going to show. You stood to leave.

Loud music pulsed outside the bar, drawing near. It cut out suddenly as a car engine died.

You sat back down, carefully reassuming your bored disinterest.

Ulysses Klaue barreled through the door, followed by two of his men and the skinny one you had talked to. You pulled out the cash immediately and tossed it in the man’s direction. Snatching it up greedily, he hastened from the room.

Klaue fixed his blue-gray eyes on you. The intensity of his gaze swept away your reason for the space between seconds. He was a force of nature, filling up the room despite only being 5’8”.

He barked a laugh. “When Lewis said it was a woman, I thought he was lying.”

To your surprise, his eyes didn’t rake down your body, instead fixed on your face. Beneath the boisterous, unstable exterior, he was lucidly astute. Your research had stated that, but looking into his eyes confirmed it.

“Are you the man in charge?” he asked, humor in his voice.

“Very much so,” you answered dryly. “But I do work for an organization.”

“What’s that?”

“The CIA.”

The whole bar went silent. Klaue licked his lips, eyebrows arching.

The operation was yours, though Agent Everett Ross had taken a vested interest. When you had told him you were going to lay out all your cards on the table at first contact, he had clocked you as nuts.

“Pretty bold claim coming from such a little lady,” Klaue growled. “You have to be telling the truth to say that here.”

You gestured at the chair across from you. Klaue glanced at it but didn’t sit.

“I know you’re a talker,” you said, feeling the silence stretch too long.

“I don’t deal with the CIA directly.”

“Adaptation is part of survival, Mr. Klaue.”

“Mister?” He chuckled. “How about this? You tell me something I don’t know, and I’ll hear you out.”

You paused. The arms dealer had several connections across just as many intelligence bureaus. You weren��t that high-ranking of an agent. Using him was your ticket to a promotion, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

Looking at his mischievous expression, you gambled. “Female hyenas have pseudo penises.”

Silence.

Klaue burst into wheezing laughter. Breathing an internal sigh of relief, you waited. Tears blurred his eyes by the time he regained his composure.

You kicked out the chair across from you. Klaue’s lips peeled back from his teeth in a feral smile, eyes glimmering. Spinning it around, he settled into the chair, his forearm propped along the back of it. Your eyes dropped for a moment to the scorpion tattoo riding the muscles of his arm.

“Chat me up, then,” he said.

Schooling yourself to keep from betraying your nervous excitement. “I want to make a deal.”

“Better make it worth my while.”

“How would you like to be bigger than Victor Bout?”

The name arrested his attention. His smile widened, gold teeth flashing, but the humor was missing. “The Merchant of Death?”

“I can position you as the most notorious illegal arms dealer in the world.”

Klaue leaned forward, scrutinizing your face. You maintained eye contact, forced yourself to. The man’s gaze burned through you.

“In exchange,” you continued carefully, “you will provide information about, and sometimes actions against, Walter Dietrich.”

His smile fell, his face suddenly stony. Leaping from his chair, he shouted, “Everybody out!”

The men in the bar immediately vacated, chugging down their drinks as they left. Klaue’s two men stayed behind.

“I said out!”

They scurried away.

Turning back to you, Klaue stared down at you, his hand twitching near the Beretta strapped to his powerful thigh. “Are you asking to get yourself killed?”

Walter Dietrich was the most powerful man in the arms dealing game since Tony Stark had turned his attention to other ventures. Practically untouchable, the Austrian frequented high-class circles, glad-handing politicians and the elite alike. Going after him was career suicide—followed by real death.

Which is why you hadn’t told Ross that bit of the plan.

“Dietrich is a piece on the board that needs to be removed,” you explained, your voice level. “Once I remove him, our partnership would cease. You’ll be free to take his position.”

“You’re absolutely fucking mad,” he growled.

You shrugged.

Barking out a laugh, he dragged the chair over to your side, plopped down so his face was mere inches from yours. Hot breath rolled over your sweaty face.

“Why should I do this?” His voice practically rumbled in your chest this close. “I have more money than I know what to do with.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to retire. Besides,” you said, taking another gamble, “Dietrich could never touch you because of the vibranium. Now that that’s gone…”

His gaze sharpened, the muscle in his square jaw twitching hard enough to be visible beneath his beard. Fear spiked through you.

“Tell me more about hyenas.”

The man could give you whiplash with the bouncing nature of his thoughts. You grasped for trivia. “The only other thing I know is that the female hyenas are dominant over the males.”

“Really?”

“Seems to me they’re the ones with the real balls,” you muttered. His eyes bored into yours, amusement and something dangerous swirling in them.

You stood, his proximity and palpable body heat suddenly too much. “You have twelve hours to give me your decision. I take off after that.”

You strode around him, his gaze following you to the door.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Pausing, you turned and flashed a razor-sharp smile. “You can call me…Agent Hyena.”

You could feel his feral grin through the door.

#Ulysses Klaue x Reader #Ulysses Klaue #Andy Serkis #Klaw #Ulysses Klaue imagine #Marvel #MCU #Age of Ultron #Black Panther

[nachohypno]

Pine’s College Jocks 2 Ch. 6 - (Re)Building time!

Leo’s POV

I do believe in destiny.

Or I have to, otherwise this would be a very specific chain of coincidences that would have made me very mad, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

Barrinfield city wasn’t exactly where I was headed, but business is business. I was looking forward for a meeting to further expand the company I own, since these things are usually pretty simple. But, the wealthy guys decided to change the place of the meeting to near

A few words, breaking the wills of my comrades and enforcing mine over theirs. As soon as that’s done, I can start counting a couple more numbers in the company’s records.

I walked in the building I was staying in, a hotel with great ratings. Some would call me selfish, because I use my mind control powers to get what I want, but I really don’t care. I AM the one with mind control powers, there must be a reason why I’ve got them.

But I’m bloody sure it doesn’t involve helping some weirdos become professional football players, that’s some… weird fantasy fetish world Piney lives in. (Besides, everyone knows that rugby is waaaay better than football).

Don’t get me wrong, I love that guy. Seeing someone so… ‘pure’ to call it some way, not being corrupted by the powers and trying to do good with them. He’s nice to be around but he also seems kinda… I dunno, but not like dumb because he’s probably way smarter than me.

I got in the elevator and pressed the second-to-last button.

And now, we got ourselves in a bit of a situation. Changing my ways? Not something I thought I would be doing in my Saturdays but alright, I’m amazing so I’ll handle this like a pro.

Besides, he’ll be changing his ways too. Maybe he would learn how things work when you are an all-powerful mind controller.

I mean, I see it like this: There are two kinds of people. Normal people, who live their lives thinking they are free, and want mundane things like the new Xbox, a good job, etc.

Then, us mind controllers. Pine and I are the only ones I’m aware of, but that’s still enough. We have the power to change someone’s personality, routine, likes and dislikes. Their way of thinking, or how they see the world, too!

He wants to do good with his powers? That’s great, and I’m really proud of him for that. But I honestly prefer what I do. Living my life to the fullest and just… taking what I want, because who would stop to think about it when you are basically a god?

Okay, I’m going way over the top here. But, my point is, we’ve both been blessed with this gift, and I’d like him to try out new things before settling down and doing charity for the rest of his life.

He does seem to have a pretty thought of system by the way he handles off things in his campus. Enjoying his good college years while also playing fair. I didn’t do that, nah. I preferred just telling my professors to give me a good grade, since I couldn’t see myself in the future using boring stuff in my work.

The elevator’s doors opened and I was greeted by a corridor. I walked up to my door and entered the apartment I was staying in during my staying in Pine’s city.

I was greeted by a pretty good view, as Alan was still working out in the middle of the room. He was the previous owner of LeoCorp, my old classmate didn’t hesitate to pass the ownership to me after I was done with him.

Now, he was my mindless bro, wanting to keep himself big and strong to serve his master. Hey, I love pretty buffed guys and good looking girls. But I shoot more for the gay side of my bisexuality, I feel a deeper connection with my bros. (“Deeper”, get that?)

I moved towards my friend. He was mumbling numbers as he did some pushups. “59… 60… 61…”

Alan was just a few months younger than me, with blond hair, perfectly smooth body, and a body similar to mine. Wide shoulders, lean torso with nice abs and pecs. When I wasn’t around, he worked out or resumed his assistant’s duties, doing most of my job for me.

After he unwillingly gave me his company, I decided to repay him by making him a permanent slave of mine. He had a good salary, but he didn’t care those lil’ details as long as he was able to serve me.

But, I’ve made a deal. Being more… “nice” with my powers. I’ve got in front of Alan as he did his pushups and stared at him.

He stopped as soon as he noticed me, and looked at me with a big grin “Master! How long have you been there? I’m sorry I haven’t-”

“Quiet, I’m trying to work here” I said, trying to concentrate. I stared at his eyes, trying to reestablish our little mind link. I hoped Pine could someday teach me how he manages to make his mind links permanent, because having them for a few hours was a pain in the ass, honestly.

There, I created the bond. Alan’s eyes became glassy as I toyed with his mind. He was a puppet, a mere pet looking forward to pleasure and obey his master… Well, not anymore.

I tried my best to repair him, just like I remembered him, at least. A friendly and funny guy at my university, with a lot of energy and ideas to take his family business to the sky. Ultimately, he managed to achieve that, just not as the president of it.

I cared for my friend, and I would never destroy his life. But a naïve mistake (Uh… my fault, sorry) left him without his mind, and that’s… that’s something I didn’t know how to fix. I’ve never really looked deeply into it, either. I’ve got into that college because of a rugby scholarship, but my mind control powers also helped a lot with the recruiters.

After learning Pine was a psychology major, I assumed he did the same thing as I did. Mind control your way into being the best of the class, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The guy actually paid attention and tried to study hard enough to be the best, while also using his powers to help others achieve the same result.

Having confirmed that he had the brains and was smarter than me, I wanted to ask him for help with this issue but… I have to give the example. I’m supposed to be older, better, stronger, I’m running out of adjectives to describe how I’m supposed to be superior, and I wanted to think that he looked up to me the day we’ve met.

Besides, he did it already, with the swimming coach. Another accident on my behalf, but he managed to fix it quite easily. Something I haven’t achieved before, but he was angry with me after that, so I didn’t dare to ask him if he could repeat it with someone he never met before.

I could see why, I had to send him my memories of our time together at college, and recreate his personality from there. A big fan of football and baseball, but not that athletic himself. I fixed that when I made him mine, too.

But now… humanity returned to him, as his expression faded and was quickly replaced by confusion.

He still was enthralled, since I didn’t finish with the last details. He still knew who his family was, he regained his knowledge from college, and everything that he became oblivious to returned to his mind.

I snapped my fingers in front of him. The new Alan blinked a few times, before crawling a few meters away from me. “What… Where…? …Leo?”

“Hey…” I offered my hand to him “It’s okay, let me explain everything”

But he didn’t seem to want any explanation. He looked angry, but scared at the same tme“What are you going to explain?” He mumbled. “H-How you ruined my life? How you took over my family company and made it yours?” Alan’s eyes teared up as he looked around. This is… weird, Alan would never act like this. “And what the bloody fuck is this place, Leo?”

Seems like he could remember everything that happened while under my control. That was unexpected. Still, something wasn’t right about him.

“This is… this is our place, man” I said, with a reassuring smile “Barrinfield city, in the US. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Why, Leo?” He looked up at me, without moving his body, only his head as he now noticed his very muscled body and checked himself out while remaining wary of me. “Why did you do this to me? I was your friend!”

“It wasn’t… It was not something personal, I do it with everyone!” I tried to excuse myself, but he tried to get up. He almost fell, it was like he was (or felt) weak.

“B-But that doesn’t mean you should do it! I had a business to lead! And… the first thing I remember is…” He scratched his head “It’s sorta foggy, but I remember being in our college dorm, and you seemed pissed for some reason. Twenty minutes later, I was on my knees and… I couldn’t think anymore, because of you”

I should have felt guilty, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel bad for my actions, because I made him happy. He couldn’t forget about how blissful and happy he felt while under my control, and that’s probably what bothered him. The asshole should be thanking me!

“It was not intentional; and by the time, I didn’t know I could bring you back!”

“That’s a good reason to take over MY company, right?” Alan lumped over on the couch and just laid there, looking at me with sadness in his eyes. He wasn’t mad, he seemed more… disappointed, and scarred about these last few years.

I wasn’t lying, I didn’t know I could rebuild someone’s personality based on his information and memories. Pine did it like a natural, with coach Chris. That means I’m a horrible mind controller? Probably, but in my defense, I barely cared to search for an answer, either.

“You had no mind” I explained. “You weren’t in condition to run such an important business! I tried to make it work and fix you but… you know how that went, I could only do so much and luckily you got back to working in no time!”

“Yeah. As your assistant. So much bloody bullshit, man. You know what’s the worst part?” I raised an eyebrow. Something worse? “I still feel you inside my head, like some kind of parasite waiting for you to say something so I can jump out of this sofa and obey. And I hate it. This is not life, Leo. And… I rather not live like this.”

I moved over to his side “What are you talking about? This can totally work out! You’re back now, Al!”

But he shook his head “Bring me back under. At least, I was happy like that, and I seemed to work out a lot during these few years. C’mon, unless you want me to do something we’ll both regret” He sounded in pain, like he really didn’t want to be here right now.

‘Fuck,’ I thought ‘I fucked up again’

But I knew that this wasn’t Alan, not really. The real Alan wasn’t like this, and he knew it. If it wasn’t his normal personality who was in control of his body, he wouldn’t want to be back at all.

This was probably my fault, too. I made this Alan with my memories, but… maybe it got also mixed with my own thoughts?

I do think it was a bit of an asshole move, taking over his company instead of passing it on to another member of his family. He does have a sister, after all. It just didn’t feel right at the moment, and I had to think fast!

Maybe my insecurities went into his new personality too, and he started acting like I imagined he would? I couldn’t know for certain, being a mind controller was both a pain in the ass, and a gift from heaven.

He was too prideful to let me toy with his mind before, and he was still that prideful when he knew that he wasn’t really in control of his body. Not with me around, at least. And he was right, I could feel in our fainting mind link that he was dying for crawling towards me and pleasuring his master.

“Very well” I mumbled, looking back into his eyes, trying to strengthen our mind link “Just look into my eyes, and relax. Feel everything around you vanish, as you let my voice lead you… deeper and deeper”

His expression gave a 180°, a nice smile replacing the previous anger/sadness. His eyes glazed as the mind link reappeared, and I pushed his barely functional new personality to the back of his mind. Pine was right, this was easy.

Would have been cool to find it out in a less painful way.

“How do you feel, Al?” I asked him, caressing his face.

“Good, master… But that doesn’t matter, how may I serve you today?” And now, he was the mindless Alan he was a few hours ago. I felt like shit now, I never wanted this. And as much as I hated to say this… I needed to learn how to control my powers to avoid doing this ever again.

Better late than never, huh?

I sat beside him on the sofa. “Just… hug me, a’ight?”

“Yes, master!” He said, before hugging me with a blissful expression in his face.

“I’m so sorry, man. I really am” But it was kinda pointless. Apologizing to someone who doesn’t have awareness nor personality.

I fucked up big time when I enslaved him, and I fucked up big time again.

I needed more help from Pine than I thought I would need. Fuck my life, but that’s not a bad thing, right?

My mind controller friend will probably help me become a better and nicer mind controller, without a doubt!

----

Pine’s POV

I honestly didn’t know what to do.

I mean, having Mike become a mindless slave was fun for a while, but it’s not like now I’m going to leave my place and starting yelling at strangers “Hey YOU! You will obey me!” Then point at another guy and yell “You will also obey me! EVERYONE WILL OBEY MEEEE!!”

No, that thought made me shiver. It could work, because of the verbal mind control, but it would be really, really weird (and wrong) to do.

I preferred just chilling for now, and tomorrow I’ll get back to my normal routine. Leo didn’t give me exact instructions, he just told me to “have more fun and be less moral about it”, so I’m pretty free. I think he would have a harder time with his part of the deal.

Although… I don’t really think it counts as a deal? Seemed more like we were making a bet, or daring each other like little kids.

I imagined a little Leo next to a little me, as the two little mind controllers got into a heated argument. “I bet you can’t have fun with your powers!” Little Leo said, before Little me answered a “Yuh-uh!”

“Nuh-uh!” Little Leo answered, trying to mock my little self.

“Yuh-uh!” Lil’ Pine said again, and they just continued like that. I chuckled at the imaginary scenario playing in my head.

I could easily have more fun if I wanted, and then wipe off any change I made after I’m done with it. It’s a nice thing, knowing that I can back up their personalities before actually messing with them.

I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about what to do, and Mike wasn’t around to have fun with him. He went to the university’s gym, before his first class.

It’s been a few days since I’ve made that “deal” with Leo, and I barely did anything with my powers (except for the usual stuff, like helping the football team and etc). It’s not that I’m lazy, if anything I’d like to be over with this as soon as possible, forget about it and go back to my average college student/jock master life.

I sighed. “Better get to work” I told myself, as I got up from my bed. But… what could I do?

I contemplated my phone in my hand as I thought about it. Finishing with my plan would be nice, I’ve had coach Peter/Brody, Mark, Chris and Geoff under my control. Mike wanted to help out too, but I decided to finish with the plan first before getting him in there.

Hmm… Now that I think of it, looking over for Chris would be a good thing. Trying to see if his rebuilt personality is fully working after the little… incident we had after meeting.

Yeah. That will be good, and I’ll also present him with his chores and work at the club.

‘Excellent idea!’ I told myself, before answering ‘Why, thank you!’ to myself.

I… I should get going before I keep talking to myself. Yeah, that’s also a good idea. I called Chris over and summoned him to the sports club, as I grabbed my bag and left my apartment. It was going to be a good day!

----

I arrived at the entrance of the sports club, and grabbed the keys from my pocket. It’s been a while since I’ve actually been at this place, but I was used to it since Mike dragged me a lot to workout with him. (Not that I’m complaining, I have barely-noticeable definition in my muscles now!)

I looked around and noticed Chris waiting for me near the entrance. He just looked around with his headphones on.

Without his swimming cap, I noticed his blond hair was styled in a messy, kind of spiky way. It looked good on him. He was wearing some sunglasses, a plain light blue buttoned shirt and some blue shorts. His whistle was still hanging from a cord around his neck.

I must admit, it was nicer to be around him without feeling the dread of accidentally having erased his personality. But… I’d still have to be careful, because I didn’t want to break him again. He had a placeholder of a personality now, mainly created to make his body function as a normal human being.

I took a deep breath and walked up to him. He didn’t seem to notice me, so I patted his shoulder to catch his attention.

The coach looked down at me and grinned. “Hey man. Sorry, didn’t notice you there”

I mumbled a quick “Its-alright” before moving to the door and unlocking it. Chris followed me, still smiling. That’s part of the new personality, he’s excitable and happy, so he probably couldn’t wait to see the inside.

It was still quite clean, because I never asked the janitor to stop coming to work, even though the place was closed. I saw online that if you don’t keep big buildings like this one cleaned enough, it will quickly start decaying. The man received his full pay, I made sure of that too.

We were greeted by the nice view of the lobby, where people are supposed to show their credentials or sign up as a member to enter the actual thing.

Past this part, the big gym Mikey and I used to work out at (A bit unwillingly on my part, because Mike liked to play the personal trainer with me) and the doors that lead to the other parts, like the tennis court, the inside pool, and the locker rooms. I loved how this place maintained everything quite organized.

“So, what are we doing here, master?” Yup, as I suspected. When I tried to rebuild his personality I told him to treat me like a friend when in public, but as his master when alone. “You never finished explaining me my orders”

“I think you could take care of the pool area. I mean, coaching people in there and… you know, that kind of stuff”

He beamed up “Yes master! How did you know I like swimming so much? You’re the best!”

I tried to give him a warm smile, but I couldn’t help but feel bad. I sighed “By the way, did you bring what I asked you to?”

He looked at me, a bit confused, before a light bulb seemed to turn on above his head and he started looking through his pockets.

A few seconds later, he offered me his phone. “I took pictures of everything you asked in good quality, master. But what’s that for?”

I made a dismissive gesture with my hand “You’ll find out in a while. For now, why don’t we go check the pool?”

He nodded blissfully. His new personality seems to be working, at least for the basic social actions. He should be much ruder, to be honest. But I preferred to make him a nice guy instead of rebuilding him into an asshole.

…That shouldn’t be my choice, actually. But it’s not like the mind police is going to come after Leo because he erased someone’s personality and stepped out for me to fix it, right?

I had an idea for getting him back to his old self. I could totally leave him like this and he would be completely functional. But with this placeholder personality I made up, his memories weren’t working as they should. After a day or so, he messaged me about “a strange man messaging him when he was sure they never talked before, and a bunch of things that he didn’t know how they appeared on his apartment”. He NEEDED a permanent fix, and I was the one who was going to do it.

We walked through the gym, and into the locker rooms. “Do you have swimming trunks or should I get you some at the equipment store?” I tell you, this place has everything. I get why Mike loves it, and that’s some of the reason I want to see it growing again, too.

“I’m wearing my speedos, master! They feel really comfortable!” Huh, never ordered him to do that. But that’s great, it could be his original personality resurfacing!

“Great. Let’s get changed, then!”

I started to take off my clothes, slowly. I was thinking about what I had to do.

I read about this theory in one of my psychology books, about the mind and how it stores stuff. I like to think that a personality can’t be fully erased, and it can be brought back with enough stimulus and maybe some help with my powers.

That’s why I wanted him to bring a few of his things. Trophies, family photos, anything that could help me rebuild the narcissistic swimmer’s original self.

I looked at him and noticed he was already on his speedo. Quite fast, I like it.

I finished undressing and grabbed some swimming trunks from my bag, as Chris blissfully waited for me to be ready by the door.

I finished, grabbed his phone from a bench and walked towards him. “Let’s start, alright?”

“Yes, master!” Chris and I entered the pool area afterwards. The place seemed just like the one we visited just some days ago, but decorated with different announcements and a few triangles hanging from the walls (Like some kind of tournament decoration, or a party!)

The water was clean, and if I opened up this place today, no one would manage to tell it’s been closed for a few weeks already. I’ve also been hyping it up on the club’s social media so… Everything was almost ready.

Almost, because the coaches still needed some tuning in their programming.

Chris looked around, excited. I could tell he wanted to jump in and do some laps, but he had to wait for my commands.

I looked at his unlocked phone in my hand, passing pics until I found one of a big, golden trophy. It had some kind of ocean wave at the top of it and the inscription “2014’s swimming tournament – First place”, along with a picture of him and what seemed to be some good looking sibling or friend holding it up with him. Great, that may be a good start.

I showed him the picture as he did some warm up exercises. “Remember what happened here?”

He looked kind of confused, and shook his head “I know I won that because I have the trophy, but I can’t remember it happening, master. The guy’s name is Jimmy, though. I’ve learned that after texting with him a few times in the last few days, but I can’t remember much of him either. He’s a friend!”

Cool, that would make a nice start point.

I backed up his placeholder personality with the mind link, just in case something went wrong, and continued with my plan. I told him to sit down, and when he did, I pushed his personality to the back of his mind, driving him into a nice and mindless state.

His excited grin grew on his face, as his eyes became glassy. Now I wanted to have Mike in here with us, he reminded me a lot of mindless Mikey.

“I want you to listen closely, and try to search in your subconscious more information about Jimmy, can you do that for me?” I commanded him, with a bit of hope.

If everything went well… Chris would be himself in no time.

He nodded, and closed his eyes. He laid down in the ground, and I tried to look what happened in his mind with the help of our mind link. I just had to concentrate a bit… strengthen the bond and help him out…

I laid down in the floor and closed my eyes. I had to feeling that this would help, somehow, with my concentration.

As I suspected, Chris’ mind was empty, but I pushed a bit... more… I may be able to, I dunno, get something from him?

And… there I go! I could hear Chris mumbling something, but I was too focused to let this go.

I tried as hard as I could to push the enslaved swimmer deeper into the trance, and when I felt myself getting tired from doing it, I stopped and opened my eyes. “Chris?” I asked him.

The hunk beside me was drooling with his eyes totally zoned out. He barely seemed conscious, but he still answered a “Yes… master?”

“Do you know who Jimmy is?” I asked him, with hope in my voice. I didn’t care, I wanted to get somewhere with this. Anywhere, maybe just a step closer to fix the mess I indirectly caused to this poor man’s mind.

Chris gave me a very weak nod, followed by a “yes… master… Jimmy’s my… best friend…” Alright, probably something he already knew before, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“And can you tell me more about Jimmy? How did the two of you met?” The psychologist inside of me loved this. I couldn’t wait to graduate and do this full time, it’s a piece of cake when you have mind control powers.

“Uh… Can’t… remember, master…” He dragged the words, I tried to make him push a bit deeper, until he continued speaking “Wait… Bodybuilding competition… He got in third place, and recognized me from Instagram… Became best bros afterwards…”

Holy. Cows.

I’m making progress! Hell yeah!

“Chris, you’re doing so well for me…” Hmm, maybe some stimulus from the outside may help him too? “Would you mind taking off your speedo, as you drift deeper and deeper into your subconscious?”

“Yeessss… masterrr…” He reached out for his red underwear and took it off with a kind of robotic move. Anyway, moving back to the rebuilding the swimmer part.

“I want you to listen very carefully, with each memory or fragment we recover from… the old you, Christopher Andrew Wright, you will start feeling a wave of pleasure through your entire body, but it’ll last a few seconds, vanishing until you reach a new memory, understood? When you gather all the pieces, you will feel better than you have ever felt in your life”

There, a little motivation. Chris smiled and mumbled “Yeeesss… master…” Such a nice and compliant coach I’ve got here.

“Now, going deeper…” I tapped the phone’s screen and looked for another pic. One that seemed to be a family pic, he was hugging an elder woman and a young-ish guy, probably a few years younger than Chris, who looked very much like him. I moved to show him the photo and said “What can you tell me about this one?”

He remained silent, vaguely looking at the phone with his drool still coming out of his mouth. His mind must have done ‘click’ after staring at the pic for a bit, and searching on his subconscious. The entranced Chris whispered “Mom… and ma lil’ bro…”

YAY! More progress! I wanted to yell from the excitement and adrenaline I was feeling, but that would startle the mindfucked man.

“And what can you tell me about them? Something from your childhood maybe?” Since it would be an old memory, he would probably need more effort to reach out to it. But in the state he was in now, and me pushing him deeper as he could go with the help of our mind link, this was going to be easy.

“I… My bro and I… we used to love soccer…” Huh, another jock? Not like I’m going to go out and get him but I’m always amused to hear about them.

I grew to like them a lot, the jock stereotype turning out to be one of my favorites by now. “We played a lot… until I found my passion for swimming…” A little smile crossed his expressionless face, probably because he remembered his favorite sport.

His cock started to harden too, the ‘pleasure wave’ suggestion doing its work and it made me smile for a bit, before realizing I had still work to do.

“Try holding on to the idea of swimming, and look out for when you discovered you enjoyed swimming. Can you do that for me, Chris?”

He nodded slowly again with a nice “Yeesss… master…” I waited patiently for him to work on his mind. This was going so good so far, and I couldn’t wait to see if I finally fixed Chris! If not, at least he would regain his memories, which would already make a great advance!

“I… won my first competition… it was during junior year… in high school, master…” The swimmer said. His cock was full hard by now, but that wasn’t important. I was too excited to care about horniness.

“So, are you now able to access your old memories, Chris?” The coach gave me a weak nod “Good, I want you to hold on to them in your mind, and try your best to pull them to the front, moving them from your subconscious to your conscious mind, understood?”

He didn’t seem to, given the rather confusion expression he made, but he was going to do everything I ordered him. “Yes master…”

I closed my eyes and focused on his mind link, to help him out. I would have to see if everything worked correctly after this was over, but so far, he seemed to do well on his own.

A few minutes later, Chris suddenly sat up. Eyes wide open and looked around in surprise.

“Where the fuck… Uh… Sports club, yeah…” He seemed to answer to himself, before looking at me, sitting next to him in front of the pool. “Master! May I ask what happened? I seem to have forgotten about the last days, for some reason?”

My head was hurting. Fuck, not another overload, please not be an overload.

The sole thought of having overloads again… but it was probably just the effort I put in pushing Chris deeper into his subconscious, right?

This wasn’t the whole overloading my mind with mind links, just overusing one mind link… Ugh, this feels awful. I better get back home to rest.

But before I do that, I could totally finish explaining Chris what happened, and help him set back on track. That would probably not need any of my powers’ input at all.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s better if you just pretend they were some normal rest days you’ve been taking, understood?” I put some power in my words, reassuring myself that verbal mind control wouldn’t make me go into a comma again. 

I was jumping from happiness in the inside, but had to take care of him first.

“Sure thing, master” He mumbled, with a nice grin. I sighed, relieved. I could finally stop worrying about Leo having accidentally erasing someone’s personality. 

I know how to bring them back (Unless Chris was a special case and not everyone stores their erased ‘mind’ in their subconscious. In that case, we would have a problem if this incident repeated itself).

He helped me get up, then stared at the pool. “Phew, water looks amazing. But I remember you wanted to teach me what I needed to do around here first, master!”

I looked at the pool. The water did look amazing, and I was tempted to jump right in and tell him to do a few laps together, but he was right, we had work to do. I also noticed he was still naked and full hard. His swimmer body looked really nice, and his cock wasn’t that bad either…

Wait, Piney. That’s your horny mind speaking, work comes first!

I sighed, I’ll have fun with the enslaved man some other time. For now, I had to be a good manager.

…For now.

-----

Chapter 7 is already available in my Patreon!  And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

#PinesCollegeJocks #mind control #brainwashing #brainwashed #hypnotized #gay hypnosis #hypnosis #straight to gay

[doomedandstoned]

Closer To The End (part II)

~By Billy Goate~

Art by Ruso Tsig

Everyone has bouts of sadness, loneliness, heartache. For better or worse, it's a part of the human condition. There was some discussion after my last article about whether depression is something we can choose to walk into or away from -- like a bad attitude -- or whether in some people it may be more deeply ingrained in the psychological makeup, whether by nature or nurture. I thought it would be helpful to give you a window into my own background so you can understand when depression first made itself manifest and the different strategies taken to deal with it over the years.

Banished from this world, and from its toil I can only watch, grieve and pity Stare at stupid likes, wonder at people's smiles

I get more and more stress Nothing anyone can offer, more or less Done grieving, closer to the end

DON'T KNOW WHY

I vaguely recall spells of melancholy in childhood. The return from summer camp to a boring home with mom vacuuming and dad at work had me feeling quite empty and blue. It was a strange, bewildering state of mind to be in. Mom told me to snap out of it or else. There were a few moments that shattered my reality as a child. Realizing, for instance, that mom and dad were having marital problems. Hearing my pastor of a father say a swear word. Often, I would be startled awake in the dead of night to my mom shrieking at my dad, throwing dishes, insisting that he was against her. My dad was a patient man and knew that all was not right in her world. These things jolted me into new layers of reality, each accompanied by periods of moodiness and anxiety.

By the time I was in the 4th grade, I started having trouble in school. I was placed in one of those "talented and gifted" programs, though I never really understood why. I knew I couldn't see what my teachers were writing on the chalkboard. Panicked, I would ask students nearby what the hell the teacher was writing, only to be scolded for distracting the class. One particular teacher was downright mean to me, until she found out that I was having vision problems and needed glasses. Once she realized I was also the son of a preacher man, she tripped all over herself to be kind. Maybe she felt guilty?

Something else odd happened around this time. I came home with division homework one day and just decided not to do it. I don't remember if it was because my parents were too busy to help or I was just too stubborn to ask. There was no rational reason for it. The next day, I was shamed in front of the entire class by an Admiral Ackbar looking mother fucker named Mr. Davis. "Billy Joe, why didn't you do your homework?" he demanded. "Why?" His hand lifted my chin, forcing me to stare up into his beady little eyes peering menacingly behind his spectacles. Mr. Davis' rosy complexion turned beat red when I answered: "I...don't know."

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who I am

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who to be

SATANIC PANIC

My parents were tethered to a particularly pernicious strain of fundamentalist Christianity that got caught up in the "Satanic Panic" of the 1980s. That meant no D&D for me! Urban legends were shared in Sunday school and from the pulpit about young people who had necked because their character "died" in this forbidden game. It was the most sinister proxy for evil that I could envision at that time.

The Satanic Panic put everything else under the microscope: toys, comic books, and popular music were all suspect. A copy of Phil Phillip's 1986 "expose" Turmoil In The Toybox lay on the coffee table, pages well-worn and highlighted. He-Man, G.I. Joe, even Star Wars were viewed as tools of the Devil to recruit a desensitized generation of youth into his heathen horde. I'd wake up from one day to learn about something else I couldn't have, play, watch, or do. Video games would not be far behind.

One day, my mother caught me rocking out to the Scorpions in my room and immediately confiscated my radio, outlawing metal from the house (and basically anything with a rock 'n' roll beat). MTV lasted only long enough for me to be exposed to Metallica's visceral "One" and Guns 'n' Roses' "Welcome To The Jungle." While the classic days of rock's infancy were viewed as a time of innocence (I don't think my folks really got what "Blueberry Hill" by Fats Domino was about), anything stemming from the late '60s counterculture forward was viewed as dangerously corrupting.

Various factions within the church began playing games of connect-the-dots with the songs of Jefferson Airplane, Led Zeppelin, and Black Sabbath, tying them into a subservice plot by Luciferian cults and the shadowy elite (at that time Communists -- a favorite boogeyman of the era) who were trying to undermine undermining of God, family, and country by subverting its youth. All of popular culture was roped in with the conspiracy, too. Though the house was cleansed of its ungodly influence, the worst was still ahead.

Soon, my mother started cutting me off from neighborhood friends and finally pulled me out of public school altogether around middle of 5th grade. She had learned about this radical new response to America's failing education system through friends from another church who had just taken their own children out of school. Emboldened, she began homeschooling us in West Texas in the mid '80s, during a time when it wasn't a clearly legal practice. Every time the doorbell rang my siblings and I would run and hide, thinking the truant officer had come to take us away to foster care. I didn't understand at the time what I do now: my mother was mentally ill. Furthermore, she was in over her head. This became apparent when she tried to take on the role of teacher.

While I am extraordinarily grateful for the year or two of solid education she gave me (particularly in the writing and public speaking departments, two areas she and my father were naturally gifted in and which have been the buttress of my career), it wasn't long until she became frustrated with the Abeka and Bob Jones University curriculum we were using. One day, when I was struggling with algebra, she declared that we wouldn't have to learn it. "After all, who actually uses algebra in daily life?" she wondered. We were now self-directed learners, a radical new idea that was controversial even in the homeschooling movement ("un-schooling," they called it). Of course, I wasn't allowed to just sit around and watch TV. Consequently, I shifted my focus to the things that were more interesting to me: music, art, history. Math and science? Not so much.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

For years, I remained blithely unaware of what was happening in the world around me in the world of music. I lived in Arlington during the rise of Pantera, Topeka during one of Guns ‘n’ Roses most controversial shows, and Oregon during the height of the grunge era and the sunsetting of the Grateful Dead -- all of it veiled from notice. My life was devoted to church and, if anything, I tried to convince fellow Christians to separate themselves from the tainted allure of the fool’s gold of popular music, television, and video games. For a while, I was a true believer. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, if you like. Infractions of the moral code -- and the slightest temperament of rebellion -- were met with a freshly cut switch, which would leave stinging welts up and down my calves, tights, arms, and back. Thus my conscience was conditioned.

I remember happening upon the pornographic scene in George Orwell’s 1984 and afterwards feeling that the only right and proper thing to assuage my guilt was to burn the everlasting shit out of this smut. Even then I loved the novel, but I couldn't reconcile my faith with this section of it, so I purged it in the flame of backyard trash barrels. At my most fervent, I also lit the match to a stack of MAD Magazines and comic books. As harmless as they might have seemed to the average Joe blinded to the wiles of the Devil, these were gateways into realms of the flesh. “Walk in the spirit, not the flesh,” I recited to myself as fire brandished the yellowed pages of print, slowly turning them black until they were embers caught up by the wind and scattered into the sky. True story: I once threw away a perfectly good copy of Downward Spiral after one hearing the demonic screams of "Becoming" (not to mention the brash blasphemy of "Heretic").

The me that you know doesn't come around much That part of me isn't here anymore

The me that you know is now made up of wires And even when I'm right with you I'm so far away

This kind of extreme separation from the world really fucked me up socially. For years, I couldn't hold on a conversation with another person my age. What would we talk about? I was clueless about anything happening in the world of sports, music, television, or the culture at large. Even though conversation is no longer a problem for me, I still feel odd about friendships. I have an irrational fear that they're going to be taken away from me at any moment, so I keep everyone at a comfortable arm's length. At times, intimacy feels painfully awkward.

Maybe this is why I'm so notorious for leaving shows immediately following the last song. I’ll give my smiles, shake hands, and say goodbye, but avoid sticking around long enough to really get to know people. I’ve been invited to crash on couches to avoid the long drive home, but I always politely decline. Certainly, I don’t want to come across as rude, I just feel like an outsider to the world -- someone who just doesn’t fit in, doesn't belong. Not now, not ever.

TEENAGE ANGST HAS PAID OFF WELL

As I reached my adolescent years, I began going through prolonged spells of melancholy. The prospect of sharing this with others was extraordinarily embarrassing, so I kept it all bottled up inside. Mostly, I tried walking it out on long excursions through the open field next to our house. I worked through a lot of issues during that time and credit those walks with helping me to keep my sanity. As a matter of fact, I recommend daily constitutionals to everyone as a general principle of good mental health. It would be a mistake not to mention that my belief in an omnipresent God at this time played a medicinal role in helping me to cope with my depression, though my views on religion would one day reverse course.

By 18, symptoms of major depression surfaced like a noxious weed and even God could not get me through it. I prayed, too. God, how I prayed, sometimes hours on end. That year, I fell into a downcast mood that refused to dissipate and remained there for months -- four of them straight. I sought refuge in the music of Tchaikovsky, working my way from the fateful Symphony No. 4 to his Symphony No. 6, the Pathétique. The sounds I was hearing tapped into a new emotional alphabet, impossible to transcribe into any tongue. It was remarkable: somehow the music knew precisely what I was feeling. I finally had a soundtrack to my depression.

One day, a buddy and I joined the military on a whim, though he'd later get disqualified for asthma. I felt the Army would provide a much needed "Be All You Can Be" boost to my confidence and a crash course in normie life. I shipped down range to my duty station, Fort Benning, Georgia, for infantry training. My new home would be with Charlie Company, 2nd Battalion, 58th Infantry Regiment -- the infamous "House of Pain." In the space of 14 weeks, I was exposed to every aspect of humanity imaginable. From the "shark attack" welcome of the drill sergeants on Sand Hill to the rude middle of the night awakenings for physical training, I was in shock most of the time. Slowly, though, I eased into this strange new world and got my bearings.

Almost a full month into this prison world, we were allowed to visit one of the on-base shopping exchanges. I immediately looked for a CD player and began checking out the music section, trying to see if there were names I recognized. "Guns 'n' Roses? Sure they're cool," shrugged my buddy Bradley, a floppy-eared Gomer Pyle looking dude. "But you really need to check out some Soundgarden, dude." I did, picking up their latest, Down On The Upside, and it was like salve to my soul. The music spoke of being trapped ("...and I don't like what you've got me hanging from") and being eternally at odds with the world ("Born without a friend and bound to die alone"). There was even a song about "Boot Camp," the short album closer. The nihilistic despair was strangely comforting.

I must obey the rules I must be tame and cool No staring at the clouds I must stay on the ground In clusters of the mice The smoke is in our eyes Like babies on display Like Angels in a cage I must be pure and true I must contain my views There must be something else There must be something good far away Far away from here And I'll be there for good For good

The song did not resolve happily, and I feared my life wouldn't either. After a serious injury left me permanently wounded, I began to feel my life wasn't being guided by the Hand of God of all, but the random throes of Fate. Maybe they were the same thing. I resigned myself to the misery of a long recovery, during which time I had to learn to walk again. It's a three beer kind of story, maybe I'll share it sometime. Probably not. Returning to civilian life proved to be even more of an adjustment than the military had been, and my shadows of depression lingered with me even as I tried to remain one step ahead of them.

MELANCHOLIA

I have long held a theory that human beings are not built for the world that we have constructed for ourselves. Whether we're talking Seattle traffic or the constant buzz of social media, the frantic pace of our rapidly evolving technocracy has left us a worried, frazzled mess. The studies are conclusive: almost one in five have experienced depression and one in four struggle with anxiety, with PTSD being a household acronym.

A counselor once asked if I enjoyed being depressed. I found it a bit of a repulsive question. I can tell you that there is nothing glamorous about depression. There's no reason to idolize the angst of those sad Kurt Cobain eyes. Everyone has experienced feelings of being bummed out, and for most folks it is a transitory feeling. It comes when one of life's storms arises and leaves when the situation resolves itself. There's a whole section of us, however, for whom the dark clouds never leaves. It just hovers around our heads, like the oppressive, low-hanging specter of an Oregon winter.

Depression isn't always about feeling sad, either. Often it manifests in a general malaise -- you can't bring yourself to care about the things you used to. Other times, it works in tandem with anxiety, seizing your heart at the thought of all the day holds in store, then punishing you with the feeling of dread. We may feel sad, anxious, or fearful and not be able to give a rational explanation for it. In those moments, I cannot imagine a more miserable place to be. With that said, I hasten to add that my description of depression may not align with your own, as it is an intensely personal experience.

Release your head from the world Keep yourself underground No one understands your mind

Humans programmed like robots Making sure you don't belong No one understands your mind

I suspected I had depression in the clinical sense, when I realized that though I wanted to feel better, all I could do was subsist in the misery. Those of you who've been able to talk yourself out of such states will scoff. My mother, who suffers from a host of afflictions that have never been properly diagnosed, was notorious for telling us kids to "snap out of it." I do understand that kind of no-nonsense perspective. Her father and mother were staunchly independent homesteaders of the WWII generation who braved the untamed wilderness of Alaska and the exotic dangers of Australia. The '60s and '70s generation grew up fearful of losing such independence to mental institutions that locked up people, merely because they acted in ways society didn’t understand. The stigma of psychiatric care was every bit as real as the stigma of mental illness. Thus, her approach was quite practical: take Saint John's Wort, get on a good diet of vegetables and fruits, drink plenty of water, get fresh air and exercise. If that doesn’t work, there’s always Jesus.

Despite plenty of prayer and a multitude of home remedies, depression continued plaguing my mind. People frustrated by what they viewed as an easy fix would imply that depressed folk like me just wanted to be depressed, maybe because it got them attention or they were just spoiled rotten. Soon I stopped sharing altogether. As one friend of mine, a real no-nonsense type, told me: “No one cares. You have to get on with your life.” “How do you manage that?” I asked. “What's your secret?” “You just have to shrug it off,” she concluded. I envied the cold, pragmatic stoicism and wished that I could just shrug my shoulders and let everything slide off. At one point, my depression was so acute, I looked into electroconvulsive therapy, memory loss be damned. During my consultation with a specialist, I learned the procedure had advanced since Jack Nicholson’s unfortunate end as a mental patient in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. Ultimately, I decided against it.

SEARCH FOR ANSWERS

As with most human situations, our problems stem from a complex mixture of nature and nurture. I posed a question to my psychology professor one day: "Does depression cause us to think depressing thoughts or do depressing thoughts cause us to be in a state of depression?" His answer surprised and relieved me. "Both," he said.

In Psychology 202, we were in the midst of a chapter on depression and other mental disorders. Having recently experienced the loss of my grandmother, I was feeling especially hopeless and decided to ask my prof another burning question at the end of class. "If a person were to see a therapist, does it go on his record?" In my mind, counseling was for the weak and hideously broken. "Not at all," he responded with a smile. "Even psychologists seek help from other psychologists for their depression and anxiety." Then he really blew my mind: "I have a therapist myself. See her once a month. Sort through a lot of life decisions that way." He also assured me that there was no master file of such visits. While a therapist might keep her own notes, it's certainly not something shared with employers and as a rule is kept strictly confidential, as are all medical records.

My first visit to a counselor was nothing like I'd imagined. I wasn't given pills, invited to lay on a couch and look at ink blots, or even asked questions about my parents. Instead, the counselor initiated an open-ended conversation that encouraged me to articulate the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings I'd been bottling up inside. It was the first time I'd ever talked about my experiences in the military or about the emotional upheaval of my childhood. I felt liberated after just a few weeks of these sessions. For a time, I felt very much on top of my problems. Maybe this counseling thing wasn't so bad after all. I even began to recommend it to my friends and stood up for psychologists when mom would bash the profession in one of her trademark rants.

Promises abound You rarely find it to begin Maybe I'm afraid To let you all the way in

I excuse myself I'm used to my little cell I amuse myself In my very own private hell

I noticed a pattern to my depression: it seemed to be triggered by situations in which I felt helplessly incapable of controlling my environment, decisions, and destiny. You know, other people taking advantage of me, a nightmare roommate, an overbearing boss, unrequited love -- that sort of thing. It was like a switch flipped and all of the sudden the feelings flooded in and surrounded me for days, even weeks.

Feelings of loneliness and disquiet were often compounded by negative thinking about the situation. "What's wrong with me that I can't find someone to be with? Am I that unattractive or uninteresting?" The negative self-talk wasn't helping my situation. In some ways, it even turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'd walk around with a scowl on my face, prompting friends and family to constantly ask, "What's wrong? Is everything ok?" That's why I realized it may take more muscles to frown than to smile, but that undersmile sure is a lot more comfortable. No wonder people kept themselves at bay.

I actually started practicing my smile in the rearview mirror on the way to school every day, just so I remembered what that felt like. Fake it 'til you make it, the saying goes. Even if I was feeling like a miserable wretch inside, I certainly didn't want to betray those feelings to the world outside. So I got good at being a fake. When people asked, "How's it going?" I'd say, "Fine, just fine, thanks. And you?" (One of my counselors would later call me on that every session: "How are things really?").

When I got married, depression reached peak levels, only now that oppressive, low-hanging cold front wouldn't burn off with the sunshine. The mood never lifted. It was with me 24-7. It wasn't unusual for me to be severely depressed during the normally halcyon days of summer. I knew something had to be done, so I confronted another long-time stigma of mine: medication.

To be continued...

This whole house of cards crumbling slow If I disappear would you even know? The trap is time and no one gets off of this ride alive

So far under Too much pain to tell And now I'm ripped asunder So far under

#Closer To The End #Depression #Suicide #Doom #Alice in Chains #Mad Season #Nine Inch Nails #Prong #Saint Vitus #Soundgarden #Doomed & Stoned

[deepseaastronomer]

I’ll Be Fine

Open letter to everyone who feels like giving up on life, especially 18 and under.

Whether you are suicidal, just plain apathetic, or anywhere outside or in between, this is for you.

Life sucks for pretty much of the time. I can’t say “it gets better” because for so many people it only gets worse, but I can say without a doubt that it is worth living. I won’t pretend I’ve experienced the hardships that so many people deal with on a daily basis but I have seen adversity. I do t have any diseases or disabilities. I have never been physically or verbally abused by a parent or family member. I have never had a drug addiction or tried to help someone close to me with a drug addiction. I have yet to lose a child or close family member to disease, a drunk driver, a stray bullet, a dirty needle, or a hate crime. I’ve never been homeless. In my 22 years of being black in America, I have not yet been called a nigger to my face. I have never been in a legitimate fight. I have never killed anyone that you can prove in a court of law. There is still a lot about this world that I don’t know about and a lot of feelings I have never felt. But here is what I have been through and what I know.

I got my first car from my brother, which my mother mostly paid for and I never did anything to maintain it (because I didn’t know how or what to do) so a lot more money went into the car to repeatedly fix it than what it was worth. Most of that money was hers and it could have been put to better use if I was smarter.

I quit my second job to go to college and got kicked out the first day that classes started. I spent a long time stressing out trying to get back in before I realized they made it so I couldn’t come back. I moved to Alaska to live with my brother after my car finally died and I chose to go to a different college (the minimum wage is higher than PA plus I wanted to see what AK was like). I convinced myself I didn’t need to make friends because I was leaving and I’d never see them again so I was bored and lonely for most of my time their. I also spent the nearly $10k I made at work in those 7 months when I could have saved it to get a car or pay back student loans.

I went to school and had a pretty good time overall but I got lazy and fat. I skipped classes to sleep and I gained about 30lbs because most of my meals were burgers and Taco Bell. Also I didn’t have a job so guess who was paying for Taco Bell and for me to do my laundry. Mom was.

I decided I didn’t want to be a teacher so I dropped out like a month before the second semester (1st year) was over. I had another car at this point which I bought I moved back home and planned on losing weight to join the military. I had to get a job to pay for a gym membership so I got a job but barely went to the gym.

Since I wasn’t in school anymore, my brother invited me to live with him in California. I used a credit card to get my car ready for the three day cross country trip. I left my job a few days earlier than I told them I was going to do I could get there on my niece’s birthday. Being alone on the road for that long messed with my head more than I thought it would but I won’t get into that. We were living in the desert and I abandoned what was probably the only job I could get on base so once again I was unemployed. I couldn’t afford to pay for insurance and I didn’t want to just let my car sit in the desert sun for an indeterminate amount of time. So I sold it for what I felt was way less than what it was worth and I’ve regretted it every day since. And I spent all that money way too fast. Living conditions got kind of awkward so I left and I’ve regretted it every day since.

I moved back to Pittsburgh and lived with mom once again. At this point I had no car, no job, and about 3-4 credit cards maxed out and 1 of 3 student loans that I didn’t know I had to start paying 2 months prior. After I lost 70-80lbs, my Navy recruiters started stressing me out about being 1-2 inches too big so I quit my job and focused on exercising just to enlist and find out that the whole time I was already well within standards.

I left early for boot camp, got halfway through training, got separated and sat in separations for the other half and, without discussing the United States Navy Recruit Training Command’s methods, THOSE WERE THE WORST EIGHT WEEKS OF MY LIFE so far.

All this and so much more has happened just since 2014. I’ve felt like a burden, a failure, and a disappointment. I’ve been angry, lost, broken, and at one point on the verge of taking my own life.

Hopefully if you made it his far, you aren’t super depressed. I’ve done more, seen more, and learned about more than most people my age in the place where I’m from and for that I’m forever grateful.every day you wake up is a new opportunity to make connections, learn something new, or find something new that you never knew you loved. But you’d can’t do any of that without putting forward some real effort. I’m not gonna argue that anything we do on this earth matters because I don’t even really believe it does but when things are going well, you don’t think about that at all and that’s what we as human beings live for, the moments where we don’t have to think about our existence. No matter how dark your life is right now, no matter how much everything seems pointless, just tell yourself that something is worth doing. Tell yourself enough times until you believe it and then do it. Make a new friend, anybody. Visit a new place, anywhere (a little further down the street than you usually go or across the world). Read a fucking book. Go out in fucking nature. Learn a fucking trade. Do some shit that will fill up so much space in your mind that you forget how to feel down and out. Get up and stay up.

Sincerely yours,

Jayson M. Harris

#slef harm #don’t give up #keepgoing #suicdal #life sux #just keep swimming #you can do it

[droppingplanets]

An Unconventional Double-Decker Bus

AO3 FanFiction.Net

“Bugger it all.”

For what seemed like the millionth time in a period of half an hour, James Potter’s laptop had crashed again. He stared at the black screen, trying his hardest to prevent himself from assaulting the aggravating hunk of metal positioned on his lap. Becoming acutely aware of how pathetic he looked, he shoved the laptop aside with an almost commendable amount of self-control.

Need some air. James made up his mind. To hell with his homework, he’d find some bullshit excuse for McGonagall the next day. Of course, there was very little chance that she’d actually believe him; the one month he’d spent at King’s College London had given him and his strict Comparative Literature professor plenty of opportunity to get to know one another. James had come to the conclusion that it would take slightly more time than usual to win her over.

As he headed to the door of his small but oddly comforting dorm room, a thought struck him. Should I call Sirius?

Sirius Black was young and attractive, and not much else. Or at least so he’d immediately assumed. Until the night Sirius stumbled piss drunk into the room shared by James and Remus Lupin – a quiet, yet oddly commanding design student in his first year. It was when Sirius embarked on a rant about the finer points of classical Greek philosophy that James knew there was something extremely odd about this bloke. One thing led to another, and in a matter of ten minutes, James was almost at the same levels of intoxication as his new best friend, while Remus tried to engage Sirius in a political debate. After that night, James believed he had found a soulmate in Sirius – er, well, a soulmate of sorts. He was still the most annoying person in the entirety of London, as far as James was concerned, yet somehow, his cat had immediately taken to him. Remus wasn’t too bad either.

Despite his newfound camaraderie, he decided against inviting Sirius. He wanted to be alone right now (read: he wanted to go off and sulk under a tree). And if nothing came of that, he’d go crash Remus’s date, which led him to wonder. Who in their right mind would go on a date on a bloody Wednesday afternoon?

James locked the door behind him and set off for his adventure. Some adventure, he reflected. Taking long strides, he was out the door of Moonraker Point – which apparently the name of the building that served as accommodation for KCL students – before he knew it. Oh, this felt so much better. Countless hours spent in front of a laptop hammering away essays was no way to spend the day.

Spotting a nice-looking tree in the distance, he grinned. Beautiful. What a majestic sight it was. Knowing that he and the tree were destined to meet, he broke into a slight jog and started heading towards it. That’s when he saw a flash of red – the brightest red he had ever seen–

CRASH.

As James lay on the ground, he wondered about the nature of this mighty red beast that had come in his path. No doubt, it was a ferocious monster of some sort, and now there would be a battle.

Wait.

Not a monster.

A rather angry-looking girl with red hair was dusting herself off, two inches across from him. James perked up, despite the throbbing he felt in his arse. He knew exactly who this was.

“Rhododendron!” he exclaimed with pleasure.

The girl looked angrier now. “It’s Lily, thank you very much,” she said, focusing her glare on him.

“Oh, of course. Lily. Yes. Lily. How could I forget?” He pushed himself off the ground. He’d encountered Lily Evans once before, when he’d nearly set her backpack on fire. Holding out a hand to her, he smiled at her vaguely apologetically – at least, he hoped it was apologetic. It seemed to work, however, as her eyes softened and she used the support to help herself off the ground.

“You’re very destructive, you know that, Potter?” she sighed.

He had to admit that he was, as he thought back to the several fires he had inadvertently started over the course of his seventeen years. Of course, he did have an ego to protect.

“You should meet my cat,” he said. He missed Juniper. He only saw her on the weekends when he went home, although he was secretly plotting to kidnap her and bring her into his dorm room.

“I don’t like cats,” said Evans. James gasped. Who didn’t like cats?

“That’s outrageous. Everyone likes cats,” he said confidently.

“Yes, well, not me.”

“You’re a bit mad, then, aren’t you, Evans?”

“Says the bloke who started a fire in McGonagall’s class,” she shot back. He grimaced. That hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

“I’ll have you know that the ancient Persians worshipped fire!”

“Sorry to break it to you, but this isn’t ancient Persia.”

“I ruddy well wish it was,” he grumbled.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re so odd, Potter, do you know that?” James said nothing.

“Do us all a favour and keep your destructive tendencies to yourself, yeah?” she said, her eyebrow raised. Eliciting no response from him, she started walking away. “See around, Potter.”

“Bye, Evans,” he said, running a hand through his hair. So much for that.

But as for now, he had a tree to attend to, and a cat to kidnap.

Remus wasn’t sure what to expect when Mary Macdonald asked him if he wanted to go to Tate Modern with her. He was a sucker for pretentious art, and she knew that. The three weeks they’d spent as partners in Flitwick’s Modern Art class had been hugely entertaining and had resulted in a discovery of the fact that the two shared a mutual love for hot chocolate, Terry Pratchett novels, and the Welsh band Catfish And The Bottlemen. Hell with it, why shouldn’t he say yes? It wasn’t like it would be a date.

“It’s totally a date,” said James, when asked. Remus groaned.

“There’s no way it’s a date. She would have told me if it was a date,” he insisted.

James shrugged. “Whatever you say, mate.”

Thus, Remus spent a good half an hour prior to his so-called date in a state of insecurity. Upon receiving a text from Mary requesting him to meet her at the Southbank Centre, he made a calculated and mature decision to shove his thoughts aside and go take the mickey out of some modern art.

One Tube journey later, he exited Embankment Tube Station. Despite having spent an entire month in London, the city continued to amaze him – especially the riverside. Having spent his childhood in a small town in Wales called Hay-on-Wye, being thrust into a life in central London had proved to be a bit of a contrast. He reflected upon this as he made his way across the Golden Jubilee bridge. Of course, having James Potter for a roommate made things a lot more interesting than they would have been otherwise.

The October air was chilly. Remus wrapped his coat around himself a little tighter and continued on his way, smiling at a busker who was belting out a version of Norwegian Wood with an acoustic guitar strapped to his chest. He vaguely wondered as to how the man’s fingers hadn’t gone numb, especially considering how long he’d been playing for.

Finally, having made it to the other side, he spotted Mary on a red bench shaped like a slide, the wind giving the impression that her dark hair looked like it was making an attempt to escape her face. She noticed Remus approaching and jogged towards him. The two hugged briefly.

“It’s fucking cold, Lupin,” said, oddly cheerfully.

“Wait till December,” he said, grinning back at her. Mary shuddered. “Come on, then, let’s go make fun of modern art.”

“Oh, wow, that’s what I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

“Stop mocking me.”

“Stop being mockable.”

“Mockable isn’t a real word.”

“You’re not a real word–” Remus suddenly broke off and whipped around. That voice. He knew that voice. But where was it coming from?

“Dancing queeeeen, young and sweet, only seventeeeeen…”

Of course it had to be him. Remus broke into laughter. This was too good to be true. Mary noticed what he was looking at and soon was in fits of laughter as well, at the sight of Sirius Black some ten feet away from them, a mic grasped tightly in his hands and a speaker blaring out his version of the ABBA hit Dancing Queen.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I’m here all week!” he announced as Remus and Mary headed towards him.

“Lupin, Macdonald, what a pleasant surprise!” he cried.

“Never knew you were so talented, Black,” laughed Mary.

“Very convincing falsetto,” agreed Remus. Sirius curtseyed.  

“It’s an art, you see,” he said happily. Remus was inclined to agree.

“YOU SOUND LIKE MY CAT!” came a voice from the distance. Sirius waved it off. “Pish-posh, they’re just jealous.”

“Of course,” said Mary, still laughing. “I should recruit you for my band. We’d be fantastic!”

“Sorry, Macdonald, I’m a solo act,” he said, turning back to the speaker positioned behind him. “And I’m afraid I have to get back to work now. Southbank Centre is about to hear my fantastic rendition of Staying Alive.”

“Fair enough. See you around, Black.” She gestured at Remus that they should be on their way. About thirty seconds later, a voice rang out in the distance.

“WELL, YOU CAN TELL BY THE WAY I USE MY WALK–”

Peter Pettigrew was exceptionally bored. The only reason he’d agreed to visit the Tate with his sister was because she’d agreed to buy him lunch afterwards at Founder’s Arms, and that wasn’t an opportunity he was going to pass up. But now, he was starting to wonder if it was worth it. The two hours he’d spent at the museum had resulted in a fairly intense game of Clash Of Clans on his phone – until, of course, the phone battery died and he was left with no choice but to wander the museum akin to a Viking warrior charting unknown territories.

Modern art was so weird. He was convinced he could pose as a flamingo in the museum and people would consider him to be an exhibit. Art students were also very weird, he reflected. Economics students were so much simpler. His class at KCL was full of fairly normal people – which, admittedly, made it that much more boring.

Chancing upon a bench, he took the opportunity to regain some lost energy. A full minute later, he felt like screaming. This was immensely boring.

Peter made up with his mind. Hell with it, it was time to enjoy himself a little bit. Spotting an empty corner in the room he was, he made a snap decision. Quickly removing his left shoe, he jogged over to the corner and placed it there. Brilliant. Modern art. Time to see how many people would fall for this.

He wasn’t disappointed. In a matter of minutes, a large crowd had gathered around his shoe, each person staring at it as if in deep contemplation. A tourist even pulled out a DSLR camera bigger than Peter’s hopes and took a photo of the new addition to the exhibit.

Peter was delighted. He couldn’t believe so many people had fallen for this. It was then that he heard a vaguely familiar voice.

“Oi, give the poor lad his shoe back.”

Oh hell.

“And that’s how we met Peter,” finished Mary, laughing, as Peter smiled embarrassedly.

“So you made an arse out of a bunch of tourists, good on you,” said Lily, breaking into a laugh as well. Two days after her encounter with James Potter – not that she was thinking about the encounter at all – her roommate Mary Macdonald had offered to introduce her to the new friends she’d made. The three were seated in a local pub that evening, awaiting the presence of self-proclaimed ABBA-phile Sirius Black.

"Listen, I’ll be right back, I need to take a leak,” explained Peter and disappeared before Lily could blink. What an odd bloke.

Mary disappeared within the next minute as well, leaving to take a phone call (“Sirius, how the hell did you get lost?”), leaving Lily seated by herself, idly stirring a glass of lemonade. The music playing in the pub seemed oddly familiar – was it a Eurovision winner? She spent a couple of minutes racking her brain to figure it out when she heard a voice.

“Lemonade in October, Evans, are you bleeding mad?”

Of course it had to be James Potter. What were the odds?

“I’ll have you know I have a fantastic immune system,” she replied, watching Potter take a seat opposite her at the booth.

“Go on, sit down then,” she said sarcastically. He smiled pleasantly.

“Lovely attitude, there. Bet it really pays off, looking at all the friends you’ve got,” he gestured around the empty table.

“Clearly pays off for you as well, seeing as you’re spending your evenings stalking me.”

“Oh, this was purely a happy coincidence, Evans,” said Potter. Lily snorted.

“Your version of a happy coincidence is crashing into me like a double decker bus.”

“Oh, get over it, Evans, it’s been two days!”

“What if I had lasting injuries?”

“Well, do you?”

“Er, no, but that’s not the point!”

“Your face is the point!”

Lily was suddenly aware of the fact that the two were being watched by Mary, Peter, and a new appearance whom she assumed to be Sirius Black.

“Maybe if we get them some alcohol, they’ll start snogging!” Sirius stage-whispered.

“Maybe if we get you some alcohol, you’ll piss off,” shot back Lily, too riled up to give a toss about the fact that she was insulting a complete stranger, albeit a very handsome one.

“Better yet, he’ll start talking about Plato,” Potter added on. This statement attracted a few questioning looks. “It’s a long story,” he said by way of an explanation.

“So this is Evans?” Sirius sidled into the seat next to James. “I like her. She’s cooler than you, Mary.”

“You’ve known her all of two minutes!” she cried indignantly. All she got was a wink. “You’re a git.”

“I know.”

As the night went on, Sirius decided to put his fake ID to good use. Peter and Mary were a little hesitant with their alcohol, but they took to it with enthusiasm after a certain point. Potter and Sirius seemed to be veterans, and by around 11 PM, they took it upon themselves to provide the pub with a rousing duet of Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.

In hindsight, it was probably the duet that got all of them forcibly removed from the pub. Or maybe it was Lily’s goat impressions.

“Never again,” moaned James. “I’m never drinking with Sirius fucking Black ever again.”

This statement elicited a pillow being chucked at him by Sirius fucking Black himself. “Shut up, you prat,” moaned Sirius in a similar tone. “Ow. No more alcohol for me. Ever again.”

Peter Pettigrew nodded in agreement from his corner of the room. Remus wasn’t sure exactly when he’d agreed to become a caretaker to his friends with alcoholic tendencies, but he’d taken on the duty with a commendable amount of enthusiasm. He’d also decided that this would be the only time that’d be fulfilling this role, and to ensure this, he’d taken the liberty of stealing Sirius’s fake ID.

What a way to end a month.

“Remus?” James called out. “It was totally a date.” His face seemed to have the vague semblance of a smirk.

Remus’s ears went red. “Shut up, you prig. Go fantasise about Lily.”

“Evans is an odd bird,” mumbled James. “But she’s cool.”

So much for maintaining his dignity.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction.net #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders au #alternate universe #mwpp #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #mary macdonald #moony #wormtail #padfoot #prongs #london #modern #modern au #college au

[elohveywrite]

Chapter 1 and 2 of Untitled Story

Chapter One (Teddy)

I stood in front of this council of the Seattle Sanctum, aloof. I couldn’t believe what they were suggesting to me. 

“You want me to find a protégé for the Aurora Sanctum? Me? Why not Beeza or Chidi?” I asked, truly confused. Beeza was the leader of the Sanctum in Seattle and Chidi was the second in command. I was only a member and had been a part of the Seattle Sanctum for two years. 

“You’ve proven to be an excellent asset to the team Theodore. So, we believe you can find a suitable candidate for the Sanctum.” Elizabeth the angel of the assorted council of five spoke first. I knew she was a beauty filled with grace and great assets, but she could be a bit too much sometimes. It was like she was trying to act human, but failing badly, while also being too proud at the same time.

“So, what are the qualifications for this recruit of ours?” I asked the council.

Calak was the first to speak up, he was a mage who survived hundreds of years of wars and plague thanks to his skill and intelligence with magic. “They need to be worthy, strong, and intelligent.”

Rolling my eyes, while running one hand against the stubble on my chin, I questioned, “That’s a little vague don’t you think Calak?” Calak looked down at me, his white hair blowing softly in a wind that wasn’t blowing through the room. It was more of a magical effect he had going on.

“You will know when you find them,” Mau interrupted. She was a demi-god that lived among the humans for thousands of years. “I will gift you this necklace and you must wear it at all times. It will glow a bright white once the worthy person is near you,” Mau finished reaching into her dress pocket to fetch the necklace she spoke of. Once she held it out, I reached for it and saw that it was on a golden chain. The rock or crystal rather was a round oval and clear like glass. Once I touched it in my grasp, the crystal felt perfectly smooth. As I put it on, I saw the crystal begin to glow from within. It wasn’t very bright, but it was enough to lighten my face, chest, and hands in the dim council room.

Ori spoke next, “I’m curious who the council will deem worthy.” As I looked over to him, I saw that Orion the young vampire truly did look inquisitive—even when nearly everything bored him to death usually.

“Whoever it is, has a lot of work ahead of them,” Nimue—the final council member and a witch--said to the group. I nodded my head and looked down at the crystal as it returned to its normal opaqueness.

“You have 72 hours to find them, Theodore,” Elizabeth ordered. “If you cannot find them by then, we will have to seek out more costly measures.” I sighed and brushed a hand through the top of my hair, smoothing it back.

I then left the council room, closing the door swiftly behind me. Making my way out of the building the Sanctum had repurposed for their use in Seattle, which was right smack in the middle of the waterfront near Pike’s Place Market, I headed south. This Sanctum was magically hidden, glamoured from the public eye. Only Sanctum members could see its location, glowing softly in purple light. Once I passed through the ‘portal’ barrier the loud cacophony of the tourist, shoppers and homeless population greeted my ears. I figured going to public places first in Seattle would narrow down my list of suspects so I started right close to home and walked over to the crowded market.

        *****

Chapter Two (Jules)

I stepped back into my SUV, a different one than last nights of course. I got rid of the one I used last night. It was burnt out in the middle of the forest, about two hours’ drive south of Seattle. It was lovely seeing things finally come to a close. And now, I was one hundred thousand dollars richer. Grinning, I placed the cash-filled bag on the floor of the passenger’s seat next to me. Now all I had to do was go visit my ‘banker’. 

Officially, Albert bought one of my paintings that he deemed worthy of one hundred thousand dollars. And by worthy, I mean he looked at three different options and said, “Whichever one you don’t want.”

I cared a bit more than he did, so I decided to give him the watercolor painting I did with a woman with lilac hair, dancing in a field of flowers and grass, with the mountains in the background. I named it “Elise” in my mind. But on paper, it was named, ‘Welcoming Spring’. Locking the doors, I sat back in my seat and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, before turning the car on and heading out of Albert’s driveway. It would be the last time I ever saw him.

An hour later, my money deposited, and papers submitted, I headed to my part-time job which was teaching art to children at an after-school club. 

I know, weird. A hitman teaching art to underprivileged children. What a riot. But sometimes I enjoyed it. They inspired me. Which was something I never thought a child could do.

Opening the door to the center, I waved at Ana the office clerk who smiled at me and waved back. “Glad to see you again Jules.” 

Nodding at her, I replied, “Same.” And then went to the room where my class was held so I could set up the lesson. Today I was going to have the kids do watercolors of animals and let them choose their backgrounds. Nearly done with getting everything ready, a few of the kids started to arrive.

“What’s up, Miss J!” I looked up and grinned at Julian who had a similar name as myself. 

“Not much Julian, is your mom doing better?” If I remembered correctly, she was in the hospital after she had a heart attack last week.

“Yup all better, she’s going to be released next week,” Julian said, his voice booming with happiness. I nodded and grinned as I got the paints set up for each group's table. 

“That’s great Julian.” I know I said it, and it probably sounded like I was happy, but really, I felt mostly nothing. I was happy that I didn’t have to pretend to be sad about her getting worse though. Pretending to be sad was always awkward. 

“Miss J, Alexis is going to be absent today, she broke her arm skateboarding yesterday afternoon,” Mike said as he rushed into to class with two other friends with him. I just nodded my head.

“That’s too bad, we’ll miss him,” I said, trying to put some sincere sympathy in my voice. Though even I admit it came across as bland. “Alright, who is ready to paint some animal silhouettes!” I announced aloud.

My lesson was to have the kids first take a quiz to see which animal they were most like out of the five I picked, and asked them the questions aloud I demonstrated how to sketch each animal’s silhouette. The two hours flew by quickly. The kids had me also join in and take the quiz. I assumed I would get the wolf, but I got the bunny instead which was odd—but they seemed happy about it so I pretended to be as well.

Half an hour later, I arrived back home at my sanctum. Finally, I was alone. It was nice to shed the ‘face’ I put on for others and just be my natural self. Since I lived alone, I was able to leave things as messy as I wanted or as clean as I wanted… and this week, I was going to clean. Everything was nicely labeled and organized, like a cutout of a magazine photoshoot. I placed my keys in their usual spot and went to the kitchen, filling my kettle with water to make tea.

I did feel things. People assumed--when I was younger that as a teenager diagnosed with at first conduct disorder and then later antisocial personality disorder or psychopathy--that I didn’t feel things. I did. I guess I just felt them on a different scale. Rage and anger were easy to come by. But now I took medications to help me, and they were doing great. I was less anxious, less impulsive. I even managed to go to college and graduate. I tried to become an art teacher, but failed, miserably. I couldn’t stand working eight hours a day, pretending to care about everything related to the job.

It was easier to do it in short bursts. 

So, I became an artist who did part-time work at clubs as a bartender, art projects at elderly homes, and after school art clubs. I painted in my free time as well. 

It wasn’t until four years ago that I went into the hitman business though. It all started after meeting an old friend. He used to be my dad’s friend in the military. My dad passed away after an accident my family had when I was a 14. That accident is kind of what caused my state of mind. I use to be a caring individual, I felt too much in fact. But after getting injured, being hospitalized for four months, and having my dad and brother die in the car accident—afterward, I changed. 

It was just me and my mom. My lovely mother. Well… she wasn’t all that lovely. She was a beauty--don’t get me wrong--but she was evil to the core. I don’t think she was exactly like me, but maybe a different version of me. She was abusive. I dreamed of the day I could crush her face in with my bare hands. Expelling all that hate right back at her in one brutal moment. And then I’d laugh and laugh.

Sadly, it wasn’t me that killed her. It was some stranger, a drug addict that attacked her with a knife. I was seventeen when it happened, and my dad’s friend took me in with his family afterward even though I was old enough to be on my own. I thought he was a nice guy until he showed me his true colors—catching him in the middle of a horrendous act. In the middle of disposing of a body in the garage, cutting it up into smaller pieces so he could dissolve them in a lye bath.

I didn’t tell anyone. Nor did I blackmail him. It simply wasn’t my business.

When I was 27, only four years ago, I met him again. And that’s when he said he could teach me. A way to earn money. If I was brave enough to do it. And I needed the money to pay off my mother’s debt to her creditors. 

Among all the damn flaws she had, gambling and doing drugs were the top of the list. I knew she wasted tens of thousands—it’s what my dad often had to cough up to the goons that came around threatening us. 

But really, she landed us in the millions of dollars of debt. Why the fuck would someone let her do that shit is beyond me. I thought he was an idiot. And I still ‘owed’ that idiot another million dollars out of the total three million my mom wasted. 

Vincent had me working for him as soon as I was 18, as a bartender. I also had a stint for about a year, luring rich assholes with my body, drugging them and robbing them. But as I got older, the less likely the men wanted to choose me. So, I bartended, then I used my art degree to help sell counterfeit art and ‘wash’ money at the gallery he owned. But I was getting tired of working for him four years ago and leaped at the chance of making larger amounts of money—even if it meant I had to kill people.

Pouring my tea, I thought back to the first person I killed. I nearly died myself trying to kill them. I planned everything out so well, at least I thought I did. I shook my head, angry at the messiness of that day and poured sugar into my cup. 

I still did bartend for him once a week—he wanted me to show my face each week to make sure I wasn’t going to vanish on him. So, I did it. Today was Thursday though, so I had the evening to myself. I headed to the art area of my studio apartment which was my loft above the kitchen, and I began to paint the real Elise. 

I painted her as though she were alive right now, smiling, happy. Glowing with her beauty. 

Pitiful.

#hitwoman #hitman #magic #supernatural #storytelling #stories #spells #killing eve #killers #urban fantasy #fantasy #POC #womenofcolor

[transformingyourlives]

Another Year Older, Wiser, and Happier

Last Thursday was my 61st birthday. And because I’m “so old” now, I wanted to take an opportunity to make some observations about the practice of aging and some of the differences between being in your 30s and 60.

You 30-ish folk sometimes think that “you are all that” because for the first time in your life, you actually experience what most people would call aging. I was there too, your 20's is about is growth. Then as you approach 30, you “mature,” you “find yourself,” you “figure things out,” but you’re still young and you’re not yet feeling any effects of aging. Physically, the human body peaks around the mid-20s, but it isn’t until later that the sense of physical deterioration kicks in. I also think it’s around then that one has gained enough grown up experiences to be able to look back at oneself with some valuable perspectives.

I really don’t know much about all of this, and that’s why the subject fascinates me at this moment in my life. It’s a new experience for me. This feeling of “getting old.” So, in honor of my birthday, I just want to take a page or two to think out loud about it. Oh, and by the way…if it bores you, then just quit reading. Hey, I said on the website that some of these articles are me figuring stuff out...

Time Seems to Speed Up

I know you’ve heard this before, but just to be clear, I know that time doesn’t really speed up; it is one’s own perception of time that changes. You can have weeks or even parts of months go by and you hardly notice it and it seems that the older you get, the more often this happens. It’s really about proportion. As you grow older, each day, week, month, and year account for a smaller and smaller part of your lifetime. When you were two, a year was half of your total life time… when you are 60, it is 160th of your life today. See how time seems to move more quickly? That is where the time slipping away comes from; the older you get, the more you feel that peculiar feeling. It can cause stress at the very least.

It hits your relationships, too. When I was 20, having a friend who had been around for a YEAR was a big deal. Heck, a year is still a sizeable percentage of your life at that time. But at 60? Not so much. Bonds that at one time formed quickly, now take longer to have the same effect. For someone to be your friend for half your life at 20, you must have known them for 10 years. The same feelings now take 30 years and when you are 60, you are acutely aware that you just might not have 30 years to grow together. It really can mess with your head. But aging clutters friendships in other ways, too. So much so, it probably deserves its own bullet point.

Friendships Become Less Complicated, and More.

One thing I’m realizing in my 60s is that friendships are something that a lot of people begin to struggle with for a second time in their lives. I think there are a few reasons for this and they are different than when you were 35. The biggest one is likely family and kids. Your kids are probably gone. Once you got married, you generally sought out only couples to hang out with. Those single folk you used to know now live foreign lifestyles. This complicates meeting people when you were younger. Think about it; your wife might like somebody, but her new friend’s husband is a fuming jerk-off, or vice-versa. Have children and things get even more byzantine, because now you’re quite naturally focused on meeting other young parents, hopefully with kids around your kids’ age. And if their kid is a jerk to your prince, well, there goes your fun beach weekend.

Once you got married, you

generally sought out only

couples to hang out with.

Those single folk you

used to know now live foreign lifestyles.

When you are 60, that complication is removed. You can like people for who they are and not how they fit into your family lifestyle. You don’t have to participate in that event if Janet’s husband is a prick. Don’t like Mendelssohn? You can skip the symphony even if friends go. You can just say NO. (Thank you, Nancy Regan.) There is some peculiar psychological part of all of this as well. When you were younger, you lived and died by your friends, right? Most of what you did was based on what your friends were doing on any given day, and that continued as a learned behavior up into your 30s.

Now that you’re 60, at times you find that what everyone is doing just doesn’t add up to a hill of beans. Those relationships don’t any longer serve the same emotional function as they used to. At one time, meeting new people from around the world and in all walks of life was thrilling. It was all new. Excitement was the watchword of the day. It was a time of firsts in your life; first New Year’s party in Times Square, first time in love, first date with a girl from Canada, first time at Key West, first time to Europe, etc. You want to do it all, meet everyone, and see the sunrise again and again just because each time is a first!

At one time, meeting new people

from around the world

and in all walks of life was thrilling.

By now, if you don’t know who you are, you might need a coach or a therapist. In most cases, you likely know what you want and who you need or want to spend your time with, and what you want to do with the time. You just don’t depend on people around you as much as you did even in your 30s. You recognize that it is YOUR life and it is up to you to find or create meaning. So you end up with this complicated problem in your life. You no longer feel the burning need to recruit and go out with just anyone, and when you do find them, they become way more important to you than they used to. So it can look to outsiders, i.e., younger people, that you have this slowly atrophying social life but in reality, you are developing interests and bonds that will carry you to the end of your days.

Gone are the days of spontaneous friendships. Friendships with no purpose…well, they just have no purpose. You become more strategic about who you spend your time with, as time begins to feel limited, you find that you don’t really want to share it with assholes. At one time you invested your efforts into friends, family, and career; it was what you needed to get along and ahead. Now you have other choices—you can invest in yourself.

 Less and Less Tolerance or Time for Bullshit

We have all heard the phrase, “fuck-you-50s” referring to a time in your life when you have pretty much earned your stripes and don’t have to indulge in the silliness of other people. When you reach 60, it really only grows deeper and richer. When you felt at 50, i.e., that you just didn’t want to waste the time with crap, at 60 you know you don’t have time to fool around. The guilt is gone. You focus better on what you think is important and you go with it. You listen to the issues of people half your age and smile; it is both endearing and pitiful at the same time. You have to learn to say 'no.' Once you have learned to say 'no', the world changes for you. Most younger people haven’t yet learned that axiomatic fact; “no” frees you.

The real problem being a person who can’t say “no” is that when you hear it, it makes you crazy. At this age you have learned that work isn’t worth dying over and not everything is there to be taken personally, Living it, all starts with a simple “no.” At 60, you find yourself saying that more and more. No, it isn’t a superpower and it still isn’t easy. But it is something that you have learned and aren’t embarrassed to admit. It is just maturity and like most things, it is difficult to avoid. By the way, it feels great to have the awareness that you don’t have to say “yes” to everything and everyone; it is a hidden blessing of getting older. So don’t let anyone tell you that getting older only sucks. Yes, there are some things that I wish I could trade in, sore back and all, but they are balanced out by the gains in confidence and calm that only experience brings.

 Relaxation Over Exhilaration

Last weekend my son came home to visit and decided to go out to dinner with some friends he has met since moving to the South. They asked me to join them to try out a new restaurant, but I decided to stay home and watch a movie that I have been eager to see. About 30 minutes into the movie, I was sound asleep with the dog snoring beside me. When he got back, he woke me and said he was going to bed and wondered how the movie was. I told him I feel asleep and only saw part and I would finish it tomorrow. And so goes a wild night here at Frank’s house on Friday night. But here is the nice thing. I was just fine with it. I had been to dinner with friends earlier in the week and been to the symphony the night before and if you had asked me which I would prefer, going to a dinner with a bunch of wild 20-year-olds, or stay home, I would have picked my new couch. Go figure.

Look when you are young, you liken fun to excitement. Fun is all about finding, seeing, experiencing new things, and that’s good. It’s a good way to burn off energy too! As you get a bit older fun gets to be much more about relaxation. Let’s face it; the older you get, the less time for that thing called leisure. Depending on where you are in your life sets the tone for what you find fun. When you are young, just about everything you see is new… it is all exciting… it is all about growth. Because you are all just starting to live, it all feels new. New car… better school, missing a class; life is pretty simple, and while yes, there is stress, it is not a particularly deep kind of stress. Let’s face it; you aren’t dealing with a mortgage or a new business start-up.

Depending on where you are in

your life sets the tone for what you find fun.

By the time you are 60 though, things have turned around and some of them have just simply reversed. Your kids are likely grown, you have experienced a great deal, some fabulous things and some that just make you shake your head. Excitement for its own sake probably isn’t as big a turn on as it once was. You have commitments—some of them very deep—that have made your life what it is and you honor it with your choices.

So what happens? Your leisure time, your relaxation becomes a lot more valuable than just simple excitement. Time where you can get away, unwind with friends or family, and think… or maybe just not thinking for a while becomes priceless!

 Speaking of which… considering that it’s my birthday weekend and it is raining outside…and by the way, did you ever notice that the sound of rain is just PERFECT for a good long book and a nap?

I think I will indulge!