Victims of serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer

this is my annual PSA that @crimeblogger is here and today i made her listen to flowers in a box

SPICE WORLD AU.

On paper, the idea sounded like a PR coup. Bringing together four guys from different backgrounds and engineering a supergroup ready to take the charts by storm. The reality, however, was far more messy. Secret relationships between band members, crazed fans, rivalries and, for Jack, the prospect of having his own father manage the band combine to form a hot mess of a band, but one that rapidly becomes something of a natural phenomenon.

This verse is primarily written with crimeblogger / valorsworn,  piraticalwit & twistedwit however I am very much open to writing with others!

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This is a recent case that I'm still following. The girl in the middle (Alexis Crawford) was found in a park in Atlanta, GA strangled to death, tied up and placed in a bin. Her "best friend" Jordyn Jones and Jordyn's boyfriend Barron Brantley murdered her in this ongoing case. Follow this board to stay updated.

“ no, sod that. you don’t get to say it’s my fault for staying. ”

        ‟ Then it’s my fault for not pushing you away. For not putting an end to it. Is that what you’d rather hear? ” Where he couldn’t offer a defence for his own actions, Jack could most certainly offer venom, raising his voice to almost match the very reasonable, if heated, accusation being levelled at him from across the room.

         There was no question about it: he shouldn’t have left John in the lurch. To just up and vanish from London without so much as a word – on a genuine errand, to track down one of Beckett’s allies from outside of the city, but one that had simultaneously functioned as an excuse to put some distance between the two of them – wasn’t his finest moment, but what else could he have done? The prospect of danger didn’t frighten John Watson; on the contrary, Jack had noticed that the nature of his lifestyle seemed to only attract, not repel him. And if that was the case, then confronting the ex army doctor about trying to keep him safe from manipulative, lordly bastards surely would have gone down as well as this current conversation.

         He’d want to be in the bloody thick of it – quite literally. And, in this particular case, with this particular opponent, that thought scared Jack half to death.

         As his gaze remained fixed, intense on the other man, Jack swallowed down a few more venomous remarks lingering on the tip of his tongue. He’d regret them all later, when his quick tongue was no longer clashing with John’s quick temper, and he once again sat down to think about just how much he enjoyed the other man’s company, just how understood he felt even without a single word exchanged between them. And now he’d gone and fucked it all up, as per usual. ‟ I wasn’t supposed to get attached, John. To anyone. Not until I’d dealt with Beckett. ”

         He made a vague, waving motion at John, his voice both flippant and yet oddly resigned. ‟ But here you are. ”

meme tag   /   @crimeblogger

you make me want to write joyce so badly it's a Problem

listen. i’m never gonna discourage my favourite people from making characters purely so i can write with them even more, so

❝ Another step closer to wrinkles, aren’t you? ❞

                   𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒   .          he’slearned to ignore them         ,         learned to push them far out of his mind’s reach  .        now         ,         therewere a few he did keep in mind  .         john’s         ,         for example  .        but         ,         his own  ?        absolutely not  .        sherlock holmes despised hisbirthday  .         he hardly liked to think of the factthat he was getting older         &         older         ,         because that was hardly befitting of a man like him .         not that it reallymattered         ,         considering he still felt like he wastwenty  .         certainly looked it  .         but         ,         he really hadn’t celebrated a birthdaysince         …         since redbeard  .        since victor  .        it had been better         ,         in a way         ,       to ignore the day that januarysixth fell on every year         ,         &         with his flatmate unknowing         ,         it’d been easy  .        but         ,         now that john knew         ,         it seemed he couldn’t escape it  .                                        “          oh         ,         shutup         ,         john  .         i’m not the one who looks like an old man   .        i think you’re shrinking a quarter of ameter every day   .          ”                                he’s only teasing        ,         of course         ,         but when a comment like that hadrolled out of john’s mouth         ,         the opportunity had arose  .        they lay in bed together        ,         after a deliciously goodwakeup         (         and entertainedfalse hope that john had forgotten what day it was         )         &         an equally as delicious breakfast         (         which had practically beenforcefed         )  .         part of him wishes to laze here forever         ,         nothing but himself         &         the sheets         &         john         ,         but on such a day as this  ?        he already knows that john won’t allow it  .

"Don't know, there's just... I could swear there was something about today." Dragging this out for all it was worth, every single year since he found out? Definitely. "Hang on. That's right. It's your birthday, isn't it? Fancy that. Actually... Yeah, think I can spot a gray hair, just there, by your temple. That's not very good, is it?"

“ Yes, yes, brilliant, you may as well get it all out now. ”

Damn that woman and her inconveniently timed texts. He would have easily and quite happily kept this fact from John for as long as possible, but no. For his sins, he’s been awarded no such luxury, and is instead treated to a yearly rendition of this.

“ Are you quite finished? Most people just say Happy Birthday and are done with it. ” // @crimeblogger

The Murder of Hannah Cornelius

Hannah Cornelius was a 21-year-old Stellenbosch University student from Cape Town, South Africa. She was described as a straight A student who was compassionate, idealistic and brave, her family remember her kindness and empathy.

On 27th May 2017, after a night out Hannah offered to drop her friend, Cheslin Marsh, home as she didn’t want him to walk home on his own. While the pair were parked up a group of four males approached the car. The moment they attacked Hannah and Cheslin with a screwdriver and flick knife before forcing Cheslin into the back of the car and Hannah between the front two seats was captured on CCTV. Cheslin remembers telling Hannah to stay calm, stating that Hannah was terrified and just ‘stared ahead.’ The gang then drove to a remote area and beat Cheslin with brick as Hannah watched. Miraculously Cheslin survived after falling unconscious and being left for dead, he was left permanently deaf in one ear from the sustained attack.

Hannah was forced back into the car. The group then drove Hannah 12 miles away to a remote farm road, they then raped Hannah repeatedly before stabbing her and hitting her in the head with a 82lb boulder. Hannah suffered severe vaginal and cervical injuries in the attack alongside heavy bruising on her arms indicative of being held down and injuries to her skull and neck.

After murdering Hannah, the men drove away in her car and followed and chased a woman going to work before stealing her bag and phone, they also attacked a separate woman, forcing her to into the car and driving her to an ATM before demanding her pin code and withdrawing money from her account. The group were then involved in a high-speed police chase before being arrested.

The men responsible for Hannah’s murder are Geraldo Parsons, 27, Vernon Witbooi, 33, Eben van Niekerk, 28, who were each given life sentences. Nashville Julius was found guilty of robbery and kidnapping. They were pictured smiling in the court room and the judge commented that they had showed no remorse for their actions.

@crimeblogger

“You’ve just missed him, I’m afraid. Something about a hanging in Vauxhall. Seemed urgent from the way he bounded out. At least an eight, I’d say.”

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“ d'you know i would seriously consider drinking the atlantic whole if only you asked me to. ”

        With the noisy din of the tavern around them pleasantly muffled by the alcohol in his system, Jack’s first thought was that he had misheard John completely – but they were both in a far too secluded and quiet corner for that. It was a happy medium they had both come to enjoy; walking into any haunt in Tortuga carried with it the almost certainty that Jack would be noticed by someone or other, meaning that a certain amount of privacy not only benefitted them on a more personal level, but ensured that the trouble either one of them, but more likely Jack, could wreak was kept to a minimum. At least for a few hours.

         Still, that meant that Jack had understood John perfectly, and had caught the look in his eyes as he’d leaned in and uttered the words, too. Never underestimate the honesty of a drunk man, mate. The sentiment, absurd and yet somehow endearing all at once in its execution, caught him so off guard that at first he didn’t know what to say. John’s capacity for loyalty was a trait he was familiar enough with by now, but that he was the bloody lucky sod to have earned it from him? Touched didn’t even begin to describe how such an honour felt.

        In the end, Jack decided that playing along with the mood of the evening was a safer option than confronting it head on, and he let out a quiet laugh under his breath. ‟ The whole Atlantic, mm? ” His dark eyes turned from surprised to playful in an instant – though still taking a moment to glance sidelong at the other man’s drink and take a mental note of just how much of it had already been consumed. ‟ I think you’re one too many sheets to the wind, John. ” He leaned in. ‟ That’s a lot of water. ”

meme   /    @crimeblogger