#tw death by cop

[imsosocold]

I love seeing people talking what they’d do if they were part of the Mandela Catalogue universe. Like good for them, I wouldn’t even notice that anything was going on.  My sleep deprived, memory loss having short ass would get myself killed and not even by an alternate. I’d probably say or do something dumb and suspicious and get shot by the police.

[thatsleepymermaid]

Quick post on what's happening in Atlanta right now

So there's this beautiful trail in Atlanta called the South River Forest Trail. As we all know, Atlanta Georgia is renowned for their tree cover and historic forests. 

The City of Atlanta and corporations like Delta, AT&T and Amazon are funding a massive police training center that will destroy the forest.

Dubbed ‘cop city’ by many protesters, this will cost about $90 million  to build. This will be used to further militarize Atlanta’s police leading to more incidents of police brutality in the city. 

On January 18th indigenous activist Manuel “Tortuguita” Teran was shot and killed by the police for defending this historic forest from destruction. Their reason? “He did not comply” (Tort went by They/them/it but report said “he”). Many protests have been going on in Atlanta to defend this forest.

Since Tortuguita's death, the situation has quickly deteriorated

This forest is very dear to me but I am unable to physically protest at the moment, so I am handing this off to Tumblr to spread awareness. Rebloging this may help this tragedy become part of national news instead of just an Atlanta problem.

Donation and petition links to stop cop city

https://www.gofundme.com/f/stoptheswap2020

https://act.colorofchange.org/sign/no-cop-city-atl/

https://defendtheatlantaforest.org/solidarity

[strongermonster]

one of the funniest news things in canada that always tickles me is the ongoing war between magic mushroom shops and the police.

this is the absolute height of humour to me right now

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I made an illegal u-turn to get on some kind of exit ramp, kind of accidentally cut someone off but they just pulled around me and sped away. A little further down the road I come upon that same person pulled over by a traffic cop, see their hand sticking out their window pointing at me, then the cop gestures for me to pull over also. I thought I was gonna get a ticket but the cop just wanted to referee while we fought to the death.

[destielmemenews]

"The preliminary investigation indicates Letcher County Sheriff Shawn M. Stines shot District Judge Kevin Mullins multiple times following an argument inside the courthouse, according to Kentucky State Police. Mullins, who held the judgeship for 15 years, died at the scene, and Stines surrendered without incident."

source 1

source 2

source 3

[flower-tea-fairies]

the police have once again murdered a 13 year old child

after tackling him to the ground the police shot and killed him

Rest In Peace Nyah Mway

[olderfcs]

michelle monaghan gif pack

CLICK THE SOURCE LINK BELOW and you will find #505 145x150px gifs of Michelle Monaghan as Leni & Gina McCleary in Echoes Season One (2022). These were created from scratch by Sveja. Do what you want with these, just don't repost/claim as your own, don't use them to play Michelle as herself or in any smut/smut-based blogs, and like/reblog if using. Michelle was about 45 during filming and is white (English, Irish, German, Swiss German).

tw: baby, children, choking, cops, death, flashing lights, fire, flickering lights, guns, horses, hospital, hugging, injury, kissing, police, shaky camera, violence, weapons

[anarchywoofwoof]

it's been a while since i've done a particularly egregious ACAB post, so i guess it's about time. trigger warning for racist violence, death and police brutality.

on March 14th, 2023, in Hinds County, Mississippi - the most populous county in the State of Mississippi, an area i used to dispatch tow trucks to for a roadside emergency service company and know well - Bettersten Wade reported Dexter Wade, her 37-year-old son missing.

what Dexter's mother did not know at the time and would not know until an unacceptable and heart wrenching 172 days later is that 9 days prior, on March 5th, 2023, Dexter had been killed less than an hour after he’d left home, struck by a Jackson, Mississippi police vehicle as he attempted to cross a nearby interstate highway.

police knew Dexter's name, and Bettersten's, but did not contact her and the body went unclaimed for months in the county morgue.

the following October, she was directed to the Hinds County penal farm to meet a Sherriff's Deputy, who lead them into fucking woods, where her son was buried in a grave simply marked with the number "672"

now, after the police neglectfully took this man's life, failed to inform his family, and attempted to cover it up... it turns out that his wallet with his home address, a credit card and a health insurance card was in the front pocket of his jeans at the time of his death.

this is after the Hinds County coroner's office reported that they did not find identification on Dexter Wade's body, but found his name on a bottle of prescription pills that they used to ID him several days later. undoubtedly, this was to provide police ample time to cover up their tracks.

the Mayor of Jackon, MS, Chokwe Antar Lumumba (a self-described Progressive, Socialist and "political revolutionary") said last month that Wade was "without ID" and that police were unable to identify him.

this is about to get, somehow, more fucked up.

in addition to the disrespect shown already to Dexter Wade, his family and his memory, officials from the State of Mississippi exhumed his body on Monday without his family in attendance.

On Monday, authorities exhumed Wade's body following calls for an independent autopsy and funeral. But his family said officials failed to honor the agreed-upon time approved by a county attorney for exhuming the body. “Now, I ask, can I exhume my child and try to get some peace and try to get a state of mind,” Bettersten said. “Now y’all take that from me. I couldn’t even see him come out of the ground.” Civil rights and personal injury attorney Ben Crump told USA TODAY Wade's mother was notified last week by the attorney for the Hinds County Board the exhumation would be at 11:30 a.m. Monday. The family, along with their attorneys, members of the media and community advocates had planned to attend, but Crump said Wade’s body was exhumed at 8 a.m., hours before the scheduled time and without notice. “There is no excuse for the way this case has been handled. Every time Ms. Wade takes a step toward getting answers as to what happened to her son, Jackson officials bring her two steps back,” Crump said.

this is a heavy post. but as usual, the point here is: the institutions we currently in place throughout this country are corrupt, soulless and have no respect for you in life or death. the state and the police are corrupt and will kill you - intentionally or unintentionally - and then bury the evidence as deep as they possibly can. and the slime will insulate them from within. it's unacceptable. it cannot be reformed.

[starpirateee]

Alr Imma do something complicated unexpected and suggest some Shitty Cops (Bailey and Sam)

You're welcome, Oz <3

Oh my god shitty cops in my inbox 😭 this will be a pleasure and a curse, these two are so awful...

Uhhh @oswaldpettyeye , Nab wanted you to see this so... C'mere, take your shitty cops and their shitty requited pining that makes them argue like an old married couple

Pre tw for blood, death and vomiting

--

The team pushed open the door, flashlight beams bouncing off the walls. It had been almost twenty years since he'd been at Hatchetfield High, but much like the rest of this town, it hadn't changed in the slightest.

The first thing he saw when he entered was the message written out on the wall. The light from hid torch reflected off it, adding a certain ominous shine to the lettering. It looked like paint, but on closer inspection, he found that not to be the case at all.

"That's fuckin' blood," he declared, unable to do anything but stare as the viscous red dripped down the wall.

As more of the squad investigated the writing, he moved further into the locker room, feeling a wave of nausea overcome him. This wasn't happening. For god's sake, he was Sam fucking Sweetly, he didn't get grossed out by some crime scene. That wasn't him.

For the time being, he swallowed that back and tried to continue on his investigation. He pushed open the door to one of the toilet stalls, having followed a trail of blood on the ground, and peered inside. Led by the torch beam, he scanned the tiny space, and felt his stomach drop as the pit of nausea returned in an instant.

"Holy shit-"

There was a boy, face down on the ground. His blood stained the floor, the edge of the seat, and most of the clothing that was visible. The kid's hair was soaked, his body was bloated, and his skin was already greying.

Sam ran to the next stall along, tripping over himself, and barely managed to pull his hair back before he vomited.

 

--

 

"How fast can you get here?"

"Hatchetfield High? I'll be there in ten."

Bailey sauntered into the break room, looking to grab himself a drink. Technically, he could be at the high school in five minutes; he was allowed to break the speed limit if he needed to. Before he got into that, though, he was going to pick up a coffee.

Immediately, he noticed Sam, lounging against one of the chairs with a glass in hand. Bailey didn't know whether it was just the bright lights, or whether there was something wrong, but he looked a little paler than usual.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up, at least acknowledging the presence of the other officer. "Oliver."

Bailey's brow creased. "What happened? Where's everyone else?"

"It's just me." Sam leaned back, finishing off his glass and running his free hand over his face. "I'm not going back to that fuckin' school."

"Why not?"

"None of ya damn business!"

Bailey held up his hands. One moment, he was focusing on the way Sam looked at him, seemingly more alarmed that he'd chosen to ask than defensive over the actual answer. The next moment, still wondering why he'd been called in to replace this guy of all people, he had averted his attention in order to pour himself the coffee that had been brewing. "Geez, it was just a question..."

"Well, lay off."

He was pale. That wasn't a trick of the light. Sam was washed out and pallid, his forehead still slick with sweat despite his efforts to keep it at bay. If Bailey had been paying more attention, he would've noticed the way Sam was gripping the glass so hard that his knuckles had gone white, but he wasn't, so he didn't.

Closing the lid on his cup, he turned around and leaned against the counter, glancing in Sam's direction. He slipped the shades from his top pocket and over his eyes. "I got called in as your replacement, I just wanna know what I'm dealing with here."

"Murder." Sam's answer came quickly, bluntly. A manner that was fully expected. "Dead body. All that shit."

Bailey's eyebrow quirked. "... What's the matter, Sweetly? Scared of a little blood?"

Sam snarled, his gaze snapping over his shoulder to meet Bailey's. "Shut the fuck up and do your goddamn job, Bailey."

As he walked out, Sam swore he heard a huff of laughter. He cursed under his breath and sank back into the chair. What an asshole.

 

--

 

Bailey arrived late. This was a surprise to nobody. In fact, there was someone waiting outside to point him in the right direction, and he hadn't checked his watch once. When the squad car pulled up to the school's parking lot, he just hummed, awaiting the other officer. "Bailey. Here for Sweetly, I'm guessing?"

"Yep," Bailey looked around as he approached, as if Sam had followed him or something. "What happened to him? He refused to tell me..."

"He refused to tell you? Well, he got in there, saw the body, and vomited. Immediately."

Bailey scoffed initially. "Nah, no way. He wouldn't, he's too-" then it clicked. He remembered the state that Sam was in when he'd found him. His pallid face, the size of that glass of water... His eyes went wide. "Wait, are you fucking serious?"

In return, he got a nod that almost forced a bark of involuntary laughter out of him.

"Sweetly ralphed?!"

"Body was found in the locker room, thank god. He made it to one of the open stalls... Didn't contaminate the crime scene or anything, but he was a fucking mess."

Still is.

That much went unsaid. Bailey decided to give Sam a little bit of his dignity. Not like he deserved it, but he was still recovering! Maybe he'd goad him for it later... To his face, perhaps. He really was scared of a little blood...

For now, he cut him a little slack. He was already gonna get it for deciding to call himself "Hatchetfield's Finest", rubbing it in now was only setting him up for worse, and Bailey wanted to make this last.

"Show me this shit, I think I have to see what all the damn fuss is about."

The two of them made their way to the locker room. As their footsteps echoed through the hallways, Bailey momentarily let himself feel a little nervous. Sam was known for being the toughest guy in the precinct. He was a loudmouth, sure, but he usually followed through on his threats. The fact that the crime scene made him vomit had to mean it was pretty damn serious.

And serious, it was.

He got the chance to look over the body of the boy, the locker room itself, and the message on the wall. Immediately, he saw why Sam had felt so nauseous: this was an absolute mess, and that poor kid had really gotten the worst of it from whoever did this.

"Jesus, talk about a bully, huh?" He said aloud, thinking about the facts. This kid was drowned in the toilet, for god's sake, that was a classic move! They'd been doing it since he was in highschool!

"Huh?"

All attention was suddenly on him. He stopped in his tracks when he realised the conversation had died off completely. "What?"

"A bully?"

"Uh, yeah? Face down in the fuckin toilet? That's a classic bully move! This kid quite literally got bullied to death, ain't it obvious?"

"So... What? We're looking for someone this kid's age?"

Bailey shrugged. "Didn't say that. Could be someone who never grew outta old habits, wanted to make things look interesting." He was pretty convinced that this was the work of someone of a similar age; the writing on the wall gave that one away. The words Nerdy Prudes Must Die weren't generally something a self respecting adult would write, even if they were out for blood.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, another case they'd been running before this murder came up. There had been someone else disappear from this school not two weeks ago. Sure they hadn't actually found any leads yet, but this couldn't be a coincidence. "Hey, we got a name for this kid yet?"

"Mhm, coroner has him identified as... Richard Lipschitz."

"Didn't some kid go missing from here a couple weeks back?"

"The football star? Jägerman?"

Okay, so Lipschitz definitely didn't look like a football star, but Bailey couldn't exactly say he'd been paying full attention to that case when it came up. All he knew was some teenager had turned up missing from Hatchetfield High, and now another had been killed.

"You think they're related? The cases?"

"... Could be."

 

--

 

By the time Bailey got back to the precinct, Sam had long since passed the point of forcing himself to work to make himself look better. One thing was for sure, and that was hat he definitely looked a little more alive than the last time Bailey had seen him.

He managed to stop him when they were passing in the corridor, which managed to agitate him enough as it was, but when he looked up straight into Bailey's eyes, he scowled.

"What?"

"... Farris told me." Bailey admitted. "Everything."

"Oh that fucking snake." Sam hissed, the fire behind his eyes igniting. "And what? You come to gloat about how right you were? Fucking hell, you're such a child."

Bailey faltered. He'd never liked admitting he was wrong, and Sam didn't deserve the satisfaction of it, but he had been wrong, when it came down to it. He sighed. "Jesus Christ... No, I- you were-"

Never before had he sounded like such a stuttering prick. The hell was his problem?

"Nah, y'know, I don't think you'd have been the only one to ralph after seeing that shit."

Sam smirked like his cocky edge had never been lost. "What's the matter, Oliver, scared of a little blood?"

[svejarph]

daniel di tomasso gif pack

CLICK THE SOURCE LINK BELOW TO BE REDIRECTED TO A REQUESTING PRIVATE RESOURCES LINK. After filling out the form and receiving approval, you will be redirect to #24 245x150px gifs of Daniel di Tomasso as Trey in CSI: Vegas S3 (2023)! These were created from scratch by Sveja. Do what you want with these, just don't repost/claim as your own, don't use them to play Daniel as himself, use in smut/smut-based blogs, and like/reblog if using. If you like what I'm doing, feel free to commission me, donate to my ko-fi, donate to a palestinian organization, or buy an e-sim for gaza. Daniel was about 39-40 during filming and is white (Italian, English, Irish, Dutch).

tw: implied death, torture ; alcohol, cops, drinking, flashing lights, hospital, hugging, police, religious imagery, shaky camera, violence

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

He dreams of revenge pt. 1

Dallon

this is going to be a two chapter story, inspired by this dream I had

word count: 2.7K

masterlist

TW: sibling death mention, suicide mention, referenced captivity and torture, suggestive themes (nothing 18+/nsfw happens, but there's a vibe), choking, fade-to-black ending, gun mention (hopefully i got all of it? lmk if i missed something)

I'm going to kill Wesley Shaw tonight.

I tried to accept it as a fact, doubting it would only bring about a load of unnecessary anxiety, and I didn't need anything that could potentially poison the success of this mission.

We had been planning the hit for months now, everything had to be perfect. Every step had been thought through well, we had plan Bs and Cs for each and every one of them. By the end of the night that monster would be dead.

Before we entered the convention centre, Bailey and I went over our cover stories and aliases, quick, as if we were reciting a a well-learned poem.

The only good thing, I could honestly say I liked about her, was that she spoke fast. Sure, she was a great cop, with a steady aim, and she was awfully insightful, she just never shut up, and I could never get over that.

I fought the assignment hard, when the project started, I'd have been willing to work with anyone, but her. If there was a chance for a slip of a tongue compromising the mission, I would want to prevent it, even if it ruined my reputation as a good partner to be assigned with.

Fuck Bailey. I planned on doing this right, thankfully our cover stories let us spend the first half of the evening separately. It was a safety measure we took, we pretend not to know each other, so if anything goes south, we don't drag each other down. I was entirely convinced this was put in the plan for my safety, I would never let myself get in trouble like that.

She got out of the car a block away from where I did. I was to arrive from another direction, at a different time.

"You're gonna do great, Dallon!" I heard the captain's voice throught the earpiece, I would discard immediately upon arrival. We didn't wish for luck on high stakes missions like this one.

"I know" I replied with full conviction. I was going to do great and Shaw would die and it was going to be perfect.

I got out of the car just in time to spot Bailey saunter inside, flashing her wristband to the security guard. I heard her laughter from where I stood, and felt an uneasy shiver run down my spine at the thought of having to "accidentally" run into her inside and rejoin forces for the takedown.

Phase one, I go inside and mingle. I already hated it, every ounce of willingness to talk had evaporated from me, as Bailey entered the building before I did. I still had a list of conversation starters and a hell of a great ability to lie my ass off going for me. I would not enjoy a second spent in this phase, but I'd do well enough.

It was too bright inside. My skin crawled with how many bodies pressed to my side as I tried to push through the crowd. I had to keep my eyes open and actually look, which took tremendous effort to keep up against the onslaught of sensations.

My heart jumped every time I saw a feature that slightly resembled the one haunting me in my nightmares. Every glimpse of light reflected from a pair of glasses, every face with black stubble on set me off to no end.

Phase two started, when I finally spotted him. He stood off to the side, surrounded by a close circle of people with a glass of champagne in hand, a horrendously smug smile on his face. The latter might have been my imagination, he could only have been smug if he considered himself the winner of the fight already, and he didn't even know about the operation. At the end of the night I planned to make that expression, while he bleeds out on the ground and I claim self-defense.

It started off easy, I positioned myself in the crowd so that I could keep an eye on Wesley at all times. This made it significantly harder to find my partner, who should also be looking for me after she found the target. He was hard to miss and however annoying Bailey was, she was a lot more comfortable getting lost in a crowd and had a decent amount of precision to spot him, maybe even faster than I did.

It wasn't time to get closer just yet, I needed to find Bailey, and start a conversation innocuously. For that to happen I needed to actually talk to people.

I joined a larger group, where a few others seemed to be just as much of an outsider as I was, so it isn't too weird that I joined. I laughed when the others did, tried to get a word in edgewise here and there, but I wasn't paying much attention.

I was scanning the crowd for my partner's outrageous golden dress and bright ginger hair. Against all odds, she was a lot harder to spot than Wesley Shaw, in his simple black suit. We locked eyes, it seemed she had found him as well. We had entered phase two.

We had to find our way to him. Not do dwell on the details, Bailey joined my group, then we went for drinks and pretended to introduce ourselves. We weren't missed after we left and let the crowd carry us to Wesley.

He wasn't surrounded as exclusively as I imagined, he was just an attendee like we were. It made our job all the more seamless.

When we joined the conversation he was a part of, we entered phase three. Get him alone and find something to arrest him for. We had a list of everything Wesley had ever done, incriminating himself, but it would be much easier, if he gave us a reason. I wasn't one for planting evidence and such things, that was usually below me. Not this time. Wesley Shaw was going down one way or another.

His voice was deep, I could feel it rumble in my stomach and if I didn't know who he was, I would have even enjoyed it. Maybe... It was hard to say. All I could think about was Marci and the way she looked at me when we found her, and that I'm so close to making the fucker pay for it. I hated waiting.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Wesley aimed the question at me, looking me up and down. I shivered.

"No, I don't think so" I smiled politely, and reached a hand out for him to shake. "Max Brown" It's Dallon Burke, and I'm going to kill you.

"Wesley Shaw. I swear I feel like we've met before" Do you even remember Marci? Here's a hint you, kidnapped her and tortured her for almost a year.

"I guess, I have one of those faces" She was my twin. We looked alike before you destroyed her.

"Yeah, probably" She killed herself. Did you even know that?

I had no way of keeping time as it passed by. People came and went, someone brought drinks at one point. I never left Wesley's side. The conversation was superficial, we chatted away about events, fundraisers and the dresscode, and I spoke to the best of my knowledge of what I thought Max Brown would say.

He didn't like strict black and white attires, much like the one Wesley wore. He preferred some frill and colour, as demonstrated by my dark blue, satin button-up.

I forcibly smiled as much as I could. I was used to doing it all the time, especially throughout the preparation process for this operation, because I didn't want to let everyone know how much I despised having to work with Bailey. I had reached my limit that evening and my jaw started to hurt.

I flirted with her and she with Wesley. We agreed on this beforehand, because there was no way in hell I would be able to keep up the facade for him, at least with her, I could practice beforehand.

She was smart to leave for a little while, so we didn't raise suspicion, as far as everyone else was aware, we we're strangers to each other as much as we were to them. After she got back, stumbling and slurring her words a little, acting drunk - at least I prayed it was an act, a rather prejudiced thought on my part - we set phase four into motion.

"Would you two care to join me for another drink?" the monster asked. Bailey stood close to him, leaning slightly on his shoulder, giggling like it was the best night of her life. Even though I knew it was fake, the sight left a sour taste in my mouth. "Maybe somewhere more private?"

"This place is crammed with people, do you know of some VIP area we hadn't been invited to?" I meant for the question to sound light, I think it came out a little awkward. He didn't seem to mind. Arrogant prick.

"I have a suite booked in the hotel next door" he replied smoothly. Bailey inched even closer to him, batting her eyelashes with not-so-secret intent.

"A suite? Are you rich or something?" She played dumb well. Her voice, usually sharp, even grating at times, was not soft and feminine. I wished she spoke more like that.

Wesley Shaw laughed and pulled her close by the waist. His hand didn't wander lower than it was appropriate.

"And you, Max?" He raised an eyebrow, as he inquired, I found it sort of comical as the frame of his glasses obstructed the view of the lower one. The sight of this monster of a man with only half a brow gave me enough material to laugh and smile in his direction.

"I'd love to" I made my voice deeper on purpose, so it sounded like I was actually into the idea.

We made our way back to the gates and walked over to the hotel. We locked arms with Bailey from both sides to keep her upright. I was starting to doubt whether she was actually sober.

Wesley Shaw's luxury suite was on the fifth floor. He invited us to sit in the living room, and opened up a bottle of wine from a wine cooler.

I wondered if he had brought that with himself for this occasion, or it was the courtesy of the hotel staff.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Wesley stood up abruptly, just after filling our glasses and making himself comfortable. "I have to make a phone call, it can't wait" He apologized again. I nodded, sure, it was fine, I was understanding. He walked into the bedroom and pulled the sliding door panel shut.

As soon as he was out of our line of sight Bailey straightened up and poured out half of what her glass contained on a plant next to the couch.

We heard as he picked up the phone, he paced the room. We couldn't hear much. Bailey immediately relaxed back against the cushions, when we heard him walk closer.

"This is going to take a while" Wesley came back to the living room, covering the microphone with one hand, he was half whispering. "You could make yourselves comfortable in the bedroom until then, my laptop is out here"

"Are you sure?" I asked with fake concern. Max Brown wouldn't want to be a rude guest. "We can leave and catch up later"

"I'm sure" He smiled warmly. It burnt my face. "Ten minutes at maximum, I'll try to make it in five, though" Wesley winked at me. I wanted to strangle him, but instead, I grabbed Bailey by the arm, maybe a bit stronger than it was necessary and pulled her up to come with me to the bedroom.

I pulled the door in, leaving it open an inch, so we could hear better.

Bailey was tense again, no sign of the alcohol induced lazy relaxed version of her. She sat on the edge of the bed, listening, still as a statue.

I concentrated as well. And when I finally picked up the thread of the conversation, I looked at Bailey in disbelief.

It couldn't have been this easy. He was dictating account numbers into the phone, with names and places. Wesley Shaw started phase five by himself.

The microphones sewn into our clothes were sensitive enough to pick all the sound up. We needed to get at least one of the devices out of here, so it can be traced immediately. Bailey was the one delivering it, I was tasked with keeping him there, using force if necessary, until we get the okay to arrest him.

Bailey put the drunken act back on. She stood up, swaying a little on her feet and walked out of the room. She whispered incoherently, from too far away and Wesley waved her off, apparently way too lost in his laptop screen.

She was out. I undid the top two buttons of my shirt and sat on the edge of the bed. I thought about how I should have drunk that glass of wine at least. Not like I needed the courage, I felt determined now more than ever. All I had to do was pull my gun, that had been safely tugged into it's strap on my ankle under my wide-legged dress pants...

I didn't feel the weight of it as I lifted my leg up. I tried the other, since I'm bad with directions, because maybe I just forgot.

There was no gun. I desperately tried to find the last moment I remembered having it. In the surveillance van I checked before I headed inside and then nothing.

Wesley had stopped talking, I realised a second too late. He was standing in the doorway, with a questioning look on his face. I looked terribly awkward, patting the side of my ankles, looking for my gun. I hoped he was drunk enough not to notice, though I didn't remember him having a single sip of any glass of beverage he had in his hands through the night.

I don't know why or how, but that set me off, and I knew that he knew. Still I tried to save the situation. If ot came to it, I would kill him with my bare hands.

"Ba- Ashley f-felt sick, she said she'd, she'd be back later" I gulped. I fucked up, I was panicking and he knew "I- I told her not to come back, if, if she gets suck" I stammered. He merely hummed and crossed the space between us with three long strides. I was sitting on the bed, he looked tall.

I really thought I was a good liar. I had been a flawless one all night, why do I have to fuck it up the single most important minute?

"Maybe it's better like that, I'd hate to have to get rid of her, if she witnessed what's happening here" Wesley lifted my chin with a finger so I had to look him in the eye. I was frozen under his gaze. At least he didn't figure Bailey's cover out.

"You look so much like her, Dallon" he leaned down. He turned my face around to inspect it from every angle.

"I didn't think you would, but it's like she's right here. I don't know why you expected this little plan of yours to work"

"I'm going to kill you" I finally found my voice again. I pictured Marci's face, that was a carbon copy of my own, beat up, bruised and pale as a ghost. I looked healthy, no bruises or scars, maybe a slight tan I got from visiting our mother back home.

I was nothing like Marci.

"Sure, you will" Wesley laughed and his hand slid down from my chin to wrap around my throat.

"If only you had your gun" he whispered in my ear, hot and sticky, and he pushed me down on my back.

My hands flew to claw at the grip on my throat, but it was futile. I felt dark spots starting to dance around the edges of my vision, and they grew and grew until it all faded to black.

[choices-binglebonkus]

[apollos-boyfriend]

my main beef with matpat was the kris/frisk/chara misgendering and the indie dev thing what the fuck did he do?????

like outside of those things you mean? here's the ones i'd listed/instantly came to mind. a lot of things people rag on him about are like OLD old (early 2010s, like the whole "basing pyro's sex off of weird pseudoscience), which is why i won't be listing Every issue i've had because i want to assume he's grown and changed since then, at least with those things. anyways

has a weird tendency of equating video games to real-life murders. the first time i can remember him doing it was with the first ever fnaf theory, where he said it was about the actual murder of chuck-e-cheese employees and that you played as the murderer rotting in hell. which is. weird enough. but that was 2014, nearly 10 years ago, shit happens. however. that was the only time he's done this. it happened again in 2017-2019 with petscop, equating the game to the murder of a 10 year old girl. and, to his full defense, the creator of petscop ALLEGEDLY said that he did start basing his game off of that case, but that he severely regrets it and regards it as an extremely stupid decision. that doesn't make matpat's actions any less weird, because if you realize a game is Actually tied to the killing of a real-life child, just. don't fucking comment on it. it's weird and even the creator regrets his decision to do so.

on a theory about what i think was a alleged fnaf arg, he asked for his followers to help him "discover more clues" by asking them to physically call/visit locations in the real world he believed were connected to this so-called arg. (from my knowledge, this arg doesn't exist btw.) at NO point during the writing, producing, recording, editing, etc of the video did he manage to connect the dots that, hey, doxxing real-life locations for my fans to swarm to is a Bad Fucking Idea, meanwhile every other major fnaf community rushed to shut it down the SECOND his video came out, with large reddit, twitter, etc accounts imploring for fans not to listen to him, and that similar incidents have happened in the past and led to nothing (to the point where scott cawthon himself has had to step in and tell people to knock it off). i can't remember exactly how long it took for him to take it down/call off the masses, but the fact that it even got published in the first place is honestly just inexcusable, both for him and for his team (this was june of last year)

he blamed etika's suicide on cancel culture and has never apologized. the tweet is still up, for some insane fucking reason, although multiple people both close to matpat and close to etika corrected him on completely erasing the issue of mental health (this was 2019)

and lastly, while i've heard rumors of him stealing theories for years now, the only first-hand i've seen was his hermitcraft theory. the original creator of the theory can be found here [link], alongside all his theories, evidence of theft, etc. she has never been properly credited for this, and those who tried to comment on the video to properly do so had their comments instantly deleted. (this was late 2021)

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Shrek had died, Puss in Boots hopped on a plane and flew to Peru to escape the cops, and in that time Lois Griffin from Family Guy and the Dragon from Shrek had an affair and ran away together to get married.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"yes im so fine"

*researches whether i can get my hands on ipecac*