Killing Stalking Season 3 Chapter 39 Read Online

Bum can't believe Sangwoo thinks he's handsome I CANNOT

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KS chapter 39 theories.

For my start theory I believe that the "I win" represents him beating his female parent and not letting her control him anymore. My instance of evidence for that is this scene:

Here Sangwoo is saying I don't see you equally my mother anymore. I'm no longer angry towards you because I don't encounter you lot equally her anymore.

I thing that came out as weird is that at present Sangwoo is calling Yoonbum things such as "Handsome" and "pretty". Handsome especially stuck me because it goes against my previous theory that Sangwoo only likes the feminine side of Yoonbum.

Here he'south acknowledging that Yoonbum is in fact a male, but something that goes confronting this and supports my previous theory is that Sangwoo calls him pretty in a pink dress.

Pretty is unremarkably used to speak to a female and have you noticed Sangwoo always puts Bum in feminine wearable when they aren't in public. I've noticed that Sangwoo doesn't put him in much male related clothing or gender neutral clothing. This goes into my theory saying he much rather see Bum as a female than a male. If he didn't really care he would also put Bum into male person related clothing when they aren't only in public.

A good thing to come out this theory is the fact that Sangwoo is noticing how pretty Bum is when he doesn't look like his mother. Now that he doesn't see his mom he sees Bum and I find that cute and kind of heart warming. Bum also notices this and it seems to be building his conviction which is too cute.

AH MY HEART! Ok... moving on.

For my last theory I think Yoonbum and Sangwoo are going to kill uncle.

In this affiliate nosotros see Sangwoo talking to Bum about killing a girl:

This shows Sangwoo isn't going to stop. I mean series killers just don't cease killing people and it'south going to be the same instance with Sangwoo. I see this scene as Sangwoo trying to encounter what Bum'southward reaction to this will be. Will he be able to handle it? Will he feed into Sangwoo's dark thoughts? I think he's setting him up to see if he would be able to handle another murder.

Here is why I think they're going to impale uncle. In chapter 36 and this 1 we meet Sangwoo get bellyaching when ever uncle is brought up.

With that scene and the scenes almost uncle and the bag of murdering tools in the back.

Sangwoo is preparing the murder this human. A scene of foreshadowing to this is the scene correct here where Bum says "Everyday is and then ordinary."

Koogi is saying Yoonbum and the audience thinks everything is going to be and everything will exist normal, but when Sangwoo goes to kill Uncle it won't be normal anymore. Koogi wants to stupor united states and Bum. Everything is normal now just later information technology will not. Sangwoo is bellyaching because of uncle and then why wouldn't he want to take him out? Everything is pointing to Sangwoo killing this man.

Moral of the story: KS may seem cute but information technology always has a Dark undertone.

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KS Chapter 39;

Dude, okay, look at Bum'southward face up at this part when he says the shirts are his uncle's:

Normally, he has been very hesitant to fifty-fifty speak about his uncle and his ties with him. So, why is he practically smirking when speaking of it with Sangwoo now?

Because he know information technology become'south a ascension out of him.

And, then look at Bum'due south face here. He is happy near it. Why? Because, I think, in Bum's eyes, these reactions shows Sangwoo cares about him and/or what happened and happens to him.

I could exist completely off here, guys. Just I did recall his facial expression(south) during this office were really interesting. I'd dear to know what other people thought virtually this role!

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YOU'RE VERY HANDSOME BBY

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well that was... something.

That shower scene did not go where I idea it would... but bummie got his bandages off!!

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Killing stalking

In the new chapter, sangwoo is still full of shit.....

I actually miss cop boy tbh, wanna see him get rouge

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Bum is fifty-fifty cuter without the bandages

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chapter 39 spoilers with no context

more than spoilers with no context

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Couldn't resist.

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I recall Sangwoo gets a really big kick out of non having to pretend not to be a murderous scumbag around Bum which is why he references the fact that he'due south a serial killer like every other sentence.

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WHAT IS KS DOING TO MY PURE FUCKING SOUL Man!

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Me, reading the latest capacity of KS and being happy to come across Bum coming out of his beat and finally being even just a little happy just also feeling like this is a very sparse line and existence very nervous about when Sangwoo's gonna somewhen snap

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ch 39 theory...

what if sangwoo thinks that he is "winning" bcuz he thinks he take managed to trick bum into trusting him by being kind and romantic. What if sangwoo thinks that bum and seungbae tricked him together and now he wants to practice the same to both bum and seungbae. He is tricking Seungbae by existence squeamish to bum while he is listening to their conversation on the recorder, and then he tricks Bum past acting somewhat "normal" and romantic.

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we all know Sangwoo is faking it don't we? ya know our boy would never say bum is handsome, idk whats even happening anymore...

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When you're as well shy to testify your mom the outfit you desire to buy

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How-do-you-do

And then afterward some piece of work I do have chapter 39 of killing stalking on my insta! (@ sweetboybum) it is private so y'all'll accept to asking to follow but the chapter is up in that location! Relish! ♡♡♡

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Billy — Kim Taehyung (i)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed "Jigsaw" is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim's body. No one knows who he'll trap next merely in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never exist you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: nighttime themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) and so idk it could be deadening burn but i guess nosotros'll find out equally i write it >< ,, information technology'southward my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don't read if whatsoever of the topics mentioned trigger yous!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not stand for the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you terminate up lost on the other side of town, where y'all cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are yous a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

give-and-take count: 3k

serial masterlist

part ii

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Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you lot endured from simply existing. Y'all were confident your masking had convinced the globe you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, ane other person saw straight through your façade.

You lot wanted to stop your life.

He needed yous to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café yous frequented was nowhere to be institute. Your usual hangout was near definitely not on the side of town y'all found yourself in. You felt feet slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried just couldn't observe it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more than friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren't exactly loaded only yous weren't exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the centre. That'south non to say y'all hadn't lived or seen this side of town earlier.

Your Mother and Begetter had grown upwardly on this side of the fence. Ii young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, admitting that was not the instance. She was potent willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure at that place was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more than of a sheep. He was hands influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn't tell you much about their childhood and boyhood merely they told yous plenty to brand you capeesh what you accept and to e'er work hard for it. To stick with the correct people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Exist kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were hither. Y'all knew it wouldn't be simple when yous agreed to get to this side of town to become a few bits for your Male parent's store. Even so, you didn't expect it to be this hard. How could you exist and then stupid? Why didn't you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with y'all like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where y'all were… yet you lot decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing total well how dangerous the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no i even trying to hide information technology.

Y'all felt your phone fizz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a jiff of relief once you'd read the texts.

xiv:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got bulk this morning lol so exist safe north get home before long . Beloved u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn't find the shop anyhow lol i'll caput back soon, love u likewise x

*Low Bombardment*

"Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bounder." You rolled your optics as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further downward the path. "Slap-up!" you exasperated, "honestly I'm so fucking stupid! Yoongi'south gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should've told him I was coming over hither but no," your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, "possibly I could tell Hobi, he wouldn't be as angry correct? I'm sure he'll come," A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in forepart of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck yous and you held your breath as you lot saw a man pull a pocketknife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to exit all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the footing. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired homo, you scanned his figure: alpine, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aureola even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be and so sure of themselves? It was i against five, surely the loner had no gamble?

The glistening of the knife brought you dorsum to your senses. Fucking hell. How practice you lot ever end up in these situations when y'all're lone? Why me? Why? Skilful Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged by you; one gripped his side equally another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your heed raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your breast.

"You lot okay there Doll?" His voice was deep, velvet-similar. It flowed and then smoothly you doubted information technology was real, it was and so soothing like it had wrapped itself around yous, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside yous. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your fretfulness you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, similar a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that y'all would've easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a chroma crept upwardly your neck as yous nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung idea to himself. Couldn't help only adore the way you slightly trembled nether his gaze, the way your easily gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, "Sorry, I should've introduced myself. I'one thousand Taehyung." you took his manus into yours, apprehensively you lot greeted him, "I'm Y/North."

"Ah, Y/N. I haven't seen you round hither earlier, you new or something?" Taehyung artsy his head to the side, his optics seemed to stare correct through yous.

"Uhm, I don't live here. I live over the other role of Boondocks… I was simply grabbing some stuff for my Dad just, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get habitation, I'm pitiful, I promise I didn't meet anything!" a deep chuckle cutting you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you lot to follow him.

"Come on Y/N, you're not suited for this side of Town, I'll walk you dorsum. A pretty fiddling thing like you lot, you're easy prey to these guys." your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, "hurry upward Buttercup, I don't bite." Taehyung flashed a boxy smile in your direction, which caused you lot to speed up ever so slightly.

Yous were unsure how yous felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Peculiarly with the contempo news of some serial killer named 'Jigsaw', Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. "It's on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the firm on yourself, y'all need to go anywhere you band either of usa. Got it? Don't talk to anyone yous don't know either. There's some dodgy fucks near recently." Although, you lot loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...lilliputian overbearing. Yous already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn't need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be likewise; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. Yous had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family unit; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That's how you'd explain the style you felt. Breathing was hard and brought y'all more than hurting than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which simply brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you oftentimes stuttered, mispronounced words, the listing was endless. That was one of the first reasons you lot were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They fabricated you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, yous soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, y'all sought comfort in blood. You lot didn't care that information technology hurt you lot; yous were about happy to feel hurting. Like you deserved to.

Past age xiv, you had started to skip school. Simply ever there for exams and a couple of art classes y'all had with Jeongguk. He was what you would've chosen a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you lot left schoolhouse. He went away to college and like e'er with schoolhouse friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he all the same texts you at present and so to cheque in.

Although y'all were (once) shut with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn't want to experience similar a brunt and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads nevertheless didn't look familiar to you and you lot just wished they did, you didn't want to exist away from your home any longer, your anxiety were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. Yous just wanted to be back in bed tucked upward watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth fourth dimension. Yous felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far abroad from the real world and wrapped upwardly in the false reality. They hands distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was e'er too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time y'all fantasised about having a honey similar, only then once more, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than than you lot are now) any skilful? Of course it's non. Fuck that, life isn't nil similar those shitty romance films or novels… It's real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a fiddling cafe defenseless your center, a dainty blue and pink edifice. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a scattering of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to i another. 'Aroma Mocha' hung above the doors. It looked so cute and uncomplicated. Your previous thoughts left your heed as quick as they had come up. Yous wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn't realised you'd stopped walking until he couldn't hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned every bit he chosen out to you, your eyes still fixed on the buffet. He chuckled to himself, "Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas," he walked back over to you. "Hey Doll, you wanna go in?" He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, "We've plenty of time to get you lot back before it'south night affections." You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring picayune cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the archway; you ignored the warmth of his mitt as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for yous, you murmured a small, "thank you," looking up at him, the rut that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll's he idea to himself. Once he ushered you lot fully inside, he placed his hand to remainder on the bend of your waist as he guided you lot to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for ii was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled information technology in every bit you sat downwards and sent a shy smile his way, "I'm deplorable, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I promise I'chiliad non bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could band a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can't believe--", Taehyung threw his head dorsum equally he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, information technology was nearly like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. Y'all felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

"Angel, if you were bothering me, I'd have kept on walking. That, or I would've chosen y'all a Taxi myself, it's no problem honestly." You ducked your head equally he sent a flash your way, fuck sake Y/Due north get it together! Why are y'all acting similar a fucking schoolgirl?

"Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?" You lot don't know what to do, you're hither with the most gorgeous person you've always laid your eyes on… yet you take no clue if what you lot saw was existent, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn't Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had hazard to overthink information technology, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, "Hi! Welcome to Olfactory property Mocha, I'chiliad Jimin and I'll be your server today. Is in that location anything I can become you?" Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed yous a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the audio of his best friend, "Oh, Tae! I wasn't expecting to see yous today, what are you doing here? And who'due south this pretty little lady?"

"This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood and so nosotros thought we'd nip in for something to drinkable before I take her dorsum to hers." you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, "I'll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man."

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, "Uhm, how'd you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?" Taehyung didn't even look in your direction equally he scrolled through his telephone, optics glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he'd nevertheless not acknowledged your question and so you permit it slide, it wasn't that big of a deal right? Your listen drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking effectually your nails every bit anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were near to suffocate. You shouldn't be talking to anyone, you lot shouldn't let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything upward in a heartbeat. Information technology'southward only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole torso felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in forepart of the pair of y'all as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung's phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought yous back to your senses. "The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I causeless you lot'd similar to try it. You wanna talk about what's bothering yous?" your eyes shot upward to meet his, your caput tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, "I don't know what you're talking most Taehyung." Y'all leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the mode yous sucked your drinkable up through your straw, his optics darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that twenty-four hour period, he shifted himself discreetly, "I'm not stupid Affections, I know what yous're doing under the table. I'm hither, and then talk to me. I'll listen to whatever you gotta say."

Yous stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, "I-I just met you lot like twoscore minutes ago, I don't even tell my friends what'south incorrect. Not that there is, everything'southward fine."

Yous met me but short of an 60 minutes agone, he thought to himself, "You lot don't have to lie to me Y/Nie…" he grabbed your hands that were laid near the loving cup of your Iced Tea. His pollex rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked pocket-sized and frail, similar the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you'd be ruined. He wouldn't acknowledge information technology to you but withal but, Taehyung fucking loved how fragile y'all seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy information technology would be to take your life away. How easy it'd be to pull those weeds upwards that are poisoning you, torturing you every single twenty-four hour period. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, but Y/N can make that decision. I'k just going to assist her cull.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, "You don't know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn't matter." your optics flashed injure as y'all went dorsum to picking your pare. You knew it, this whole encounter was besides good to be truthful. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had only presumed shit virtually you, the fact he was correct is what hurt more. You lot didn't desire anyone to know how you lot were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn't exactly tell him to piss off, you nonetheless needed his aid home and then you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every motility. You permit out a breath as Taehyung went back to his telephone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, 'Jigsaw Traps Continue'. Taehyung noticed you staring at the forepart page, and chuckled, "you scared of Jigsaw Angel?"

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who's targeted criminals and drug dealers? You're a nobody. "Of some psychopathic puppet?" if anyone did anything to y'all that would threaten your life, information technology would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You lot were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every piddling matter almost you lot. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly yous were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you lot were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your peel… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it nevertheless looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn't want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, as well afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...merely he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you lot'd soon discover out.

Allow the games begin.

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How the Sacklers rigged the game

Two quotes to ponder equally yous read "Purdue's Poison Pill," Adam Levitin's forthcoming Texas Law Review paper:

"Some will rob you with a half dozen-gun, And some with a fountain pen." (W. Guthrie)

"Behind every great fortune there is a great crime." (H. Balzac) (paraphrase)

Some groundwork. Purdue was/is the pharmaceutical company that deliberately kickstarted the opioid crisis by deceptive, aggressive marketing of its drug Oxycontin, amassing a fortune and then vast that it made its owners, the Sackler family, richer than the Rockefellers.

Many companies are implicated in the opioid crunch, but Purdue played a larger and more singular part in an epidemic that has killed more than Americans than the Vietnam war: Purdue, alone amidst the pharma companies, is almost exclusively devoted to selling opioids.

And Purdue is likewise uniquely associated with a unmarried family, the Sacklers, whose family dynasty betrays a multigenerational genius for innovating in crime and sleaze.

The founder of the family unit fortune, Arthur Sackler, invented modern drug marketing with his campaigns for benzos like Valium, kickstarting an addiction crunch that burned for decades and is yet with united states today.

His kids, while non inventing the art of reputation laundering through elite philanthropy, did more to accelerate this practice than anyone since the robber barons whose names grace institutions similar Carnegie-Mellon University.

The Sackler name became synonymous not with the cynical creation of a mass decease drug epidemic and a media strategy that blamed the victims every bit "criminal addicts" — rather, "Sackler" was associated with museums from the Met to the Louvre.

Handing out crumbs from their vast trove of blood-money was simply one one-half of the Sacklers' reputation-laundering. The other half used a phalanx of brutal attack-lawyers who'd threaten anyone who criticized them in public (I personally got one of these).

The Sacklers could not have attained their loftier torso count nor their vast banking company-balances without the help of elite legal enablers, both the specialists from discreet boutique firms and the rank-and-file of the dandy white-shoe firms.

I'chiliad not i to take inexpensive shots at lawyers. Lawyers are often superheroes, defending the powerless against the powerful. But the law has a bullying problem, a sadistic cadre of brilliant people who live to crush their opponents.

https://pluralistic.cyberspace/2021/02/ten/duke-sucks/#devils

To see the sadism at work, await no further than the K-shaped world of bankruptcy: for the wealthy, defalcation is the sport of kings, a fashion to skip out on consequences. For the poor, defalcation is an anchor — or a noose.

When working people are saddled with debts — even debts they did not themselves amass — they are hounded by petty, vindictive monsters who deluge them with calls and emails and threats.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

But it's very different for the wealthy. Community Hospital Systems is one of the largest infirmary chains in America, thank you to the $vii.6b worth of debt it acquired along with lxxx+ hospitals, which it is running into the ground.

https://pluralistic.cyberspace/2021/05/xviii/unhealthy-residue-sheet/#health-usury

CHS raked in hundreds of millions in interest-free forgivable loans, stimulus and other public subsidies and paid out millions from that to its execs for "performance bonuses."

It likewise leads the industry in suing its indigent patients, some for as piffling as $201.

Debt and bankruptcy are key to private equity'southward playbook, particularly the most destructive forms of fiscal applied science, similar "club deal" leveraged buyouts that plough productive businesses into bankrupt husks while the PE firms pocket billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

For mere mortals — those of the states who can't beget to hire legal enablers to work the system — bankruptcy is a mystery. If you know someone who went bankrupt, chances are they had their lives destroyed. How can bankruptcy exist a gift, rather than a curse?

Purdue Pharma presents a maddening instance-written report in the corrupt benefits of bankruptcy. When information technology was announced in March, many were outraged to learn that the Sacklers were going to walk away with billions, while their victims got stiffed.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/31/vaccine-for-the-global-due south/#claims-extinguished

Levitin's paper uses the Purdue bankruptcy as a jumping-off signal to explain how this tin can exist — how corporate defalcation "megacases" take get a sham that subverts the very purpose of defalcation: to permit orderly payments to creditors while preserving good businesses.

Levitin identifies three pathologies corrupting the US bankruptcy arrangement.

First is "coercive restructuring techniques" that allow debtors and senior creditors to tie bankruptcy judges' hands and those of other creditors, overriding defalcation law itself.

These techniques — "DIP financing agreements," "Stalking Horse applicant protections," "Hurry-up agreements," etc — are esoteric, though Levitin does a good job of explaining each.

More significant than their underlying rules is their event.

That effect? Thousands of Oxy survivors and families of Oxycontin victims lost their right to sue the Sacklers and Purdue pharma because of these techniques. In return, the Sacklers surrendered almost a third of the billions they reaped.

https://www.reuters.com/commodity/usa-purduepharma-bankruptcy/sacklers-reaped-up-to-13-billion-from-oxycontin-maker-u-s-states-say-idUSKBN1WJ19V

Depriving the victims of the Sacklers' drug empire of the right to sue doesn't just leave the Sacklers with billions; it likewise means that no official tape will be produced detailing the Sacklers' complicity in hundreds of thousands of deaths.

Levitin: "The single most important question in the well-nigh socially important chapter 11 case in history will be determined through a process that does not deport with bones notions of due procedure."

The Sacklers are not unique beneficiaries of "coercive restructuring techniques." The rise of "prepack" and 24-hour "drive through" bankruptcies have turned judges into rubberstampers of individual agreements betwixt debtors and their cronies, with no look-in for victims.

It in these proceedings that the constabulary descends into cocky-parody, more Marx Brothers than casebook. Levitin highlights the Feb '21 "drive-through" bankruptcy of Belk Department Stores, where the guess was told that failing to accede to the private deal would gamble 17,000 jobs.

The trustees representing Belk's not-crony creditors were railroaded through this "agreement," upon notice consisting of an "unintelligible" one-page, ane-paragraph release opening with "a 630-word sentence with 92commas and five parentheticals."

Sackler lawyers were geniuses at this game, securing judicial approval of a bargain where the Sacklers' personal liability to the Feds went from $4.5b to $225m. The judge heard no evidence nearly whether the Sacklers' voluntary payout was even close to their liabilities.

The corruption of bankruptcy is bad plenty, every bit the creditors for finance criminals are oft small-scale firms and workers' pension.

The Sacklers' case is far worse: they don't owe billions in unpaid loans — they owe criminal and ceremonious liability for the lives they destroyed.

The next area of corruption that Levitin takes up is the inadequacy of the appeals procedure for bankruptcy settlements. This, besides, is complex, but it has a simple result: once a judge agrees to a settlement, information technology's almost impossible to entreatment it.

In those rare instances where people exercise win appeals, they are still denied justice, considering the appellate courts typically find that it'southward also late to remedy the lower courts' decisions.

That makes the business of "coercive restructuring techniques" (in which judges rubber-postage stamp corrupt arrangements between debtors and their cronies) even more of import, since any ruling from a defalcation guess is apt to be concluding.

The tertiary and virtually of import decadent chemical element of elite defalcation that Levitin describes is the ability for debtors' lawyers to option which guess will dominion on their case, a phenomena that means that only three judges hear nearly every major bankruptcy example in America.

"[In 2020] 39% of large public company bankruptcy filings concluded upwardly before Judge David Jones in Houston. 57% of the large company cases ended up earlier either Jones or ii other judges, Marvin Isgur in Houston and Robert Drain in White Plains."

https://world wide web.creditslips.org/creditslips/2021/05/gauge-shopping-in-defalcation.html

In other words, aristocracy law firms have figured out how to "hack" the defalcation procedure and then they can cull from among three judges. And these iii judges weren't picked at random — rather, they competed to bring these "megacases" to their courts.

This competition is visible in how these judges dominion — in ways that are favorable to cronyistic arrangements between debtors and their favored, deep-pocketed creditors — and in the public statements the judges themselves have made, going on the record admitting it.

Levitin cites the groundbreaking work of Harvard/UCLA law prof Lynn LoPucki on why judges want to dominate bankruptcy megacases. LoPucki points out hearing these cases definitely increases "mail service-judicial employment opportunities" — but says the true motives are more complex.

Levitin, summarizing LoPucki: "[information technology'southward more] in the nature of personal inflation and celebrity and ability to indirectly aqueduct to the local bankruptcy bar.. The judge is the star and the ringmaster of a megacase — very highly-seasoned to sure personalities"

Plain, not every judge wants these things, but the ones that do are of a type — "willing and eager to cater to debtors to concenter business…[an] balls to debtors that…these judges will not transfer out cases with improper venue or dominion confronting the debtor…"

Forum-shopping in bankruptcy is non new, but it has accelerated and mutated.

Once, the game was to transfer cases to Delaware and the Southern District of New York.

It's why the LA Dodgers went bankrupt in Delaware, why Detroit's iconic General Motors and Texas's ain Enron got their cases heard in the SDNY.

The defalcation courts have long been in on this game, assuasive the flimsiest of pretences to locate a example in a favorable venue.

For example, GM argued that it was a New York company on the basis that it owned a single Chevy dealership in Harlem.

Other companies uncomplicated open an role in a preferred jurisdiction for a few months earlier filing for bankruptcy there.

Lately, the venue of choice for dirty bankruptcies is in Texas (if only Enron could have held on for a couple more decades!). Only two Houston judges hear defalcation cases, and whatever bankruptcy lawyer who gets on their bad side risks catastrophe their career.

Once a court becomes a national center for complex bankruptcies, the defalcation bar works to ensure that just favorable judges hear cases there, punishing a district by seeking other venues when a estimate goes "rogue." The prepare is in from the start.

Purdue did not want to take its case heard in Texas. Instead, information technology manipulated the system and so that it could argue in front of SDNY Gauge Robert D Drain.

It was a practiced call, as Bleed is notoriously generous with granting "3rd-party releases," which would permit the Sacklers to escape their debts to the victims and survivors of their Oxy-pushing.

Once Bleed agreed to the restructuring, he ensured that the victims would never become their day in court, and no evidence — from medical examiners, auditors, and medical professionals who received kickbacks for every patient they addicted — would be entered into the record.

Drain is also notoriously hostile to independent examiners, "an independent third-political party appointed past the court to investigate 'fraud, dishonesty, incompetence, misconduct, mismanagement, or irregularity…by current or former direction of the debtor."

But getting the case in front of Drain took some heroic maneuvering past the Sacklers' lawyers. Levitin tracks each stride of a Byzantine plan that somehow immune a company that gave its address in Connecticut to have its example heard in New York.

The cardinal to getting in front of Gauge Drain appears to involve literally hacking the system, by putting a Westchester County location in the automobile-readable metadata for its filing in the federal Case Management/Electronic Instance Files (CM/ECF) organisation.

CM/ECF does not parse the text of the PDF that information technology receives from lawyers; but the metadata is parsed. The company listed a White Plains, NY address in this metadata, even though information technology had never conducted concern there.

Purdue seems to take opened this office 192 days earlier for the sole purpose of getting its bankruptcy in front of Approximate Drain (they were eligible for Westchester County jurisdiction 180 days subsequently opening the function).

Their lawyers fifty-fifty went so far as to pre-caption the case filing with "RDD" — for "Robert D Bleed" — knowing that all circuitous bankruptcies in Westchester County were Bleed's to hear.

The fact that the Sacklers were able to choose their approximate — a approximate who was notorious for his policies that abetted elite dispensation in defalcation — is nakedly corrupt.

This move is how the Sacklers are walking away from corporate mass murder with a giant fortune. The fine art galleries accept started to remove their names from their buildings, merely they'll have a lot of money to keep themselves warm fifty-fifty if they're shunned in polite lodge.

A couple weeks agone, a Texas judge ruled against the NRA, denying its bankruptcy, on the grounds that it was a flimsy pretence designed to escape liability in New York, where it was incorporated.

https://apnews.com/article/nra-defalcation-dismissed-a281b888b64d391374f24539a820d60f

For many of us, the NRA bankruptcy was a kind of puzzle. We went from glad that the NRA was broke to glad that they WEREN'T, because for dark money orgs similar the NRA, bankruptcy isn't a punishment, information technology's a manner to escape justice.

The NRA example is prove that the corruption of the defalcation organization isn't yet complete. That's no reason to assume everything is fine. The Sacklers are developing a playbook that will be used to escape other elite crimes with vast fortunes intact.

Prototype: Geographer (modified) https://eatables.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Serpentine_Sackler_Gallery.jpg

CC By-SA https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/four.0/deed.en

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Spiritual Affinity

With no supernatural power other than his charm, grifter Ezra reads the palms of the gullible with lucrative results. He knows every trick in the book, or then he thinks, until he meets a adult female pulling the same con. Unable to discern her methods, he'south determined to unravel the mystery even if information technology kills him…

Pairing: Ezra ten Fem OC

Rating: Early chapters T - Later chapters Holy Shit M.

Word Count: 1535

Chapter One warnings: A petty bit of the supernatural, very light references to sexual activities. Ezra is a sexy scoundrel who should come up with his own warning.

And then this fic started a few months agone equally a chat about a certain actor who in one case talked about convincing people that he can read their palms. The lovely @zombieaurora​​ said Ezra would have made an incredible spiritualist grifter, @fleetwoodmactshirts​ and I chatted near information technology, my imagination went into overdrive and this was the result…

@zombieaurora​ thank y'all for letting me run with your idea!

Huge thank you to both @yespolkadotkitty​ and @jura-moon​ for their beta skills and their never-ending aid and encouragement, I love you guys.

*************************************************

Chapter One:

Harvard Academy. 1910.

She shook the young human's hand in greeting before taking a seat in the waiting leather chair.

"Ma'am, information technology's a pleasure to meet you lot."

"And you, my love, it's not ofttimes that I'm asked to an interview by the distinguished academics of your university."

"Well, I don't know about distinguished, I'chiliad but a doctoral student," the mousy haired immature homo flushed slightly, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses, "just I'm truly grateful to you for coming. Can I get you a glass of water earlier nosotros get-go?"

"I'1000 quite fine," she bodacious him.

He shuffled his papers, "lovely, is it adequate if I begin with my questions?"

"Of course, that'south what I'one thousand here for afterwards all." Settling dorsum in her seat, she adjusted her voluminous skirts with the quiet air of self-balls that only comes with age.

"Your full name is Mrs Ailsa McRae, is that correct?"

"Miss McRae dearest, I never married. Didn't much believe in the institution."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had thought… from your records,"  he trailed off, rubbing at his forehead, visibly disconcerted by the error in his enquiry.

His voice is less certain when he speaks once more, "only you were at one fourth dimension a clairvoyant?"

"Non at one time, no. All the time." She smiled.

"And still are?" He glanced up at her, openly curious.

"And withal am."

"When did you discover your abilities?

"Every bit a young woman of 21, just later my parents died in 1850. My brother Damon and I were left to fend for ourselves. I was very lonely, and information technology was then that I starting time heard the voices."

"Of your parents?"

"Sometimes them, sometimes others. They have to take something important to say to break through - it's only the spirits who actually want to talk to y'all who tin."

"Huh, I run into," but from the twist of barely concealed bemusement that crossed his features she could tell that he couldn't, not really.

"And then you traveled the country working as a medium, as function of the Spiritualist Movement?"

"I did," she confirmed, "for 39 years, I traveled all over America, Europe too eventually."

"You traveled with your blood brother?"

"Initially. Of course, things didn't get actually interesting until I met Ezra…"

*************************************************

Philadelphia. 1860.

She saturday lonely at the centre of a crowded room. Exhausted from her work and wary, she watched every bit the people around her formed knots and whorls, gathering and dissipating similar waves drawn past the tide.

She knew she should exist moving on but couldn't bring herself to go, her entire universe narrowed down to a singular focus.

If they were the bounding main so he was the moon; beautiful, distant, ultimately unknowable. In every way that she repelled people, he seemed to draw them in.

So magnetic was his personality, that she wondered if he was practiced in the art of mesmerism. His hair shone in the lamplight, a streak of it well-nigh white, stark against his brown waves.

This night'southward séance had been a bully success. Information technology would exist the talk of Philadelphia high society for weeks to come up, she was sure. Only while she would be the talk, he would be the whispers. She watched as he made a great prove of checking on a lady who had swooned - the slightest brush with the supernatural having clearly proved as well much for her fragile sensibilities.

Every bit he turned his eyes caught her curious gaze and all of a sudden he was stalking towards her. Ailsa panicked, ducking her caput as she pretended to exist engrossed in tidying abroad the tools of her merchandise.

He came to a halt tantalizingly close, and all half dozen of her senses sparked at his proximity.

"Ma'am, information technology's quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name'due south Ezra."

His vocalism was deep, a honeyed rasp with a southern twang, backed up with a most charming one dimpled smile.

Looking upward she took his proffered manus and paused, tilting her head quizzically before her lips eased into a small smile.

"I feel like I already know you," she said.

*************************************************

"I experience similar I already know yous," she said.

For what was quite possibly the beginning fourth dimension in his unabridged life, Ezra found himself at a loss for words.

Despite his called profession, Ezra didn't see himself as the sort prone to flights of fancy. In fact, he inwardly lauded himself as a human being of the utmost practicality. Merely… there was something well-nigh her, about the way her eyes seemed to expect through him. He didn't know if he loved it or hated it simply he knew he felt exposed, buzzing like a raw nervus. A small shudder ran up his spine, and he released her hand every bit quickly every bit it was polite to do so.

He immediately missed the feel of her delicate fingers in his own.

Taking a breath, he rallied, "I call back not, m'dear, for I'grand certain I would remember making the associate of a lady so lovely."

"Deplorable, did you say your proper noun was Ezra?" Something hardened behind her optics equally she spoke his proper name, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Why yes, I-"

"I think y'all'll find your reputation precedes y'all, good sir. The Play a trick on sisters have told me plenty about y'all."

Ezra swore inwardly. He had rarely met a lady he couldn't schmooze with his Southern amuse, but he could clearly tell when he'd stitch against a wall. He wondered just what the Flim-flam sisters had said near him - God knew in that location was enough to say.

Gathering her things, she stood, and nodding primly at him, walked off without another give-and-take.

Ezra gazed later on her retreating form, both frustrated and securely intrigued. This adult female was a mystery he was adamant to unravel.

*************************************************

As soon as she was out of his sight, she ducked into a side room to try and get together herself. She was completely taken ashamed by him, by Ezra, in every way. She whispered his name aloud, enjoying the sound, testing the taste of it on her tongue, feeling her cheeks affluent at the very thought of him.

People didn't approach her, at to the lowest degree not willingly. Her Scots granny had chosen it the 'uncanny' in her, said people knew without knowing why that she wasn't normal; that Fae ran in her blood. Nevertheless here he was having positively sauntered up to her, seemingly without a care in the world.

Oh yes, she knew all about his 'reputation'.  A fellow 'clairvoyant' in proper name simply, Ezra had not a whit of psychic ability. Some of the stories she'd heard almost him beggared belief. He used every trick in the trade, and several entirely of his own devising, to con wealthy, unsuspecting rubes out of their coin.

Astonishingly, she'd heard Ezra's 'spirit guides' were all for gratis honey, and were often inclined to suggest that the virtually bonny women he read palms for should terminate upwards in his bed. Some of his customers didn't even make it that far, coming out from private readings with corsets sick laced and skirts askew; flushed and giggling.

Yes, she knew exactly where Ezra's spirit guide was located, and information technology was somewhere directly south of his belt buckle.

The entire situation infuriated her. Not only was the impropriety scandalous enough, but he was risking the reputation of all Spiritualists; the brownie of their unabridged profession. The homo was a fraud and a scoundrel to boot. As if the inhabitants of the astral planes had cipher more than of import to practise than warm his sheets. That several of the women were married was yet more grist for the mill.

Grudgingly she had to acknowledge she had thought him exceedingly attractive, convincing herself that was earlier she'd realised who he was.

She was haunted by a feeling of Deja-vu, a certainty that she'd met the man earlier, though she knew it was impossible, even so something within her undeniably recognised him. That he was making her feel such confusing and conflicting emotions just fueled her anger farther.

How cartel he rile her up similar this? That she was riling herself upwardly about him was beside the point. Information technology was all the same his fault.

To make things worse, she could experience the spirits clamoring to speak to her, shouting over each other inside her caput. It seemed she wasn't the only one riled by their meeting. She couldn't bargain with them merely now, so she tamped them downwards, deep inside, closing a mental door and shutting them out equally best she could.

She stormed out to await for her blood brother, now drastic to exit, and was almost sent flight. Large easily grabbed her before she could autumn, and she realised to her horror that she was now entirely pressed confronting Ezra. Her thoughts stuttered.

Warm. His manus was warm on her forearm, the other curled protectively around her waist. He smelled of sandalwood and cedar and she felt a sudden maddening compulsion to printing her confront against his neck and breathe him in. His eyes were broad with surprise, shining dark cocoa in the lamplight. A loud laugh from the room next door startled her to her senses, and wrenching out of his grasp, she fled.

Again, with his heart pounding, Ezra watched her become.

*************************************************

Chapter 2

**************************************************

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Source: https://www.tumgir.com/tag/killing%20stalking%20chapter%2039

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