#and...wait a moment... is that...THE JOSEPH OF THE GOVERNMENT???

[almondpiglet]

super five/claw stuff i did for practice

#i just miss the world domination arc #i miss all the friends i made along the way #i miss minegishi and hatori :( #i dont miss shimazaki.... #and shibata is really fun to draw???? i really enjoyed drawing him #and...wait a moment... is that...THE JOSEPH OF THE GOVERNMENT??? #i wanted to try drawin him hehe #now to tag them all good lort #my art #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #suzuki toichiro #suzuki touichirou #serizawa katsuya #shimazaki ryou #minegishi toshiki #nozomu hatori #shibata hiroshi #wait wat...how do i tag joseph #um erm... #joseph mp100 #there that'll do

[iconocon]

fireworks | ricciardo

summary: fourth of july firework madness

warnings: american dan

type: one shot | word count: 700 | ✧ FLUFF

→

as an honorary american no one was more excited than your boyfriend daniel to spend the holiday in texas with you. when he told you he was finding the first flight back from the united kingdom just so he could be with you it made you laugh because only someone like him would take a holiday like this so seriously, not even most die hard americans really celebrated the day other than to take the opportunity to get drunk or take a day off work. spotting him from a crowded texan airport was all too easy as he was already following the dress code of a big black cowboy hat and university of texas burnt orange hoodie that you can only assume he stole from your closet. from the minute he stepped foot in your eye line he couldn’t stop spewing everything he was looking forward to doing tonight out of his mouth.

“so you’re gonna cook that amazing steak the way you do, and then we are going to play with sparklers, and then i’m going to set off these fireworks” his eyes all but twinkled as he remembered the fireworks stopping in the middle of the parking lot to grab your shoulders as he looked down at you. “babe you have to see these fireworks i bought.”

“you will not set off fireworks you know the rules”

“bu-“

“no daniel me and michael agreed after last year that you cannot set them off anymore”

“you think i can’t drive with nine fingers?”

“get in the car daniel”

“even my own girlfriend doesn’t believe in me anymore first mclaren now you it’s low baby”

the drive home was just the same as he continued to be dramatic about the rule you imposed even when you both knew that you would let him do it anyway because whatever made him happy ultimately made you happy too. making a b-line to the backyard he disappeared the moment you stopped the car leaving you to bring his suitcase into the house which you would definitely make him pay for later.

stopping in the kitchen after doing a once over of the house you grab everything needed to make him his dream american bbq dinner that he had been frothing over for days now. steak, corn, ribs, every texans dream reminding you of your own childhood growing up here doing things like this with your own family.

when dinner was done and cleared and the sun finally went down you eventually allowed your big child of a boyfriend to go get whatever he was planning. “daniel joseph ricciardo”

“full government eh?”

“that thing is fucking huge.”

“you act like you’ve never seen it before baby”

the dirty joke did not go over your head as you rolled you eyes but still remained concerned at the brightly colored package in his hand labeled ‘THE RED WHITE AND BLUE DEVIL’. this was the year. this year you were gonna have to explain to zak brown why you were sending daniel to the red bull ring with only one hand and missing fingers. somehow he reassured you enough or more like maybe he distracted you with enough kisses that you let him go running into the wide-open backyard looking like a kid in the candy store. when you couldn’t see him anymore in the starry sky you listened and waited before an aussie countdown came out of nowhere.

10

9

8

“DANIEL COME ON”

“you can’t rush beauty baby”

3

2

1

next thing you knew a huge sizzle was heard from the field following a giggling ricciardo running towards you as a red spark zoomed in the sky. the pace of his body could not follow his feet as he all but tripped, slamming you both to the ground as squeals coming out of you both mixed with the sounds of explosions both of you relaxing/settling in amongst the grass as each explosion hit the skyline. feeling the gaze of those huge chocolate eyes attached to the man you were all but obsessed with you found yourself also turning your eyes to the even prettier sight of the man in front of you hoping to have moments like these forever.

“happy fourth beautiful”

“happy fourth cowboy”

⏤

happy 4th babies american or not we can all enjoy some daniel!!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 one shot #f1 x oc #driver x reader #f1 x you #📗 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #ricciardo

[the-ever-flowing-styx]

POBLACHT NA hÉIREANN

THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT OF THE IRISH REPUBLIC TO THE PEOPLE OF IRELAND

IRISHMEN AND IRISHWOMEN:

In the name of God and of the dead generations from which she receives her old tradition of nationhood, Ireland, through us, summons her children to her flag and strikes for her freedom.

Having organised and trained her manhood through her secret revolutionary organisation, the Irish Republican Brotherhood, and through her open military organisations, the Irish Volunteers and the Irish Citizen Army, having patiently perfected her discipline, having resolutely waited for the right moment to reveal itself, she now seizes that moment and supported by her exiled children in America and by gallant allies in Europe, but relying in the first on her own strength, she strikes in full confidence of victory.

We declare the right of the people of Ireland to the ownership of Ireland and to the unfettered control of Irish destinies, to be sovereign and indefeasible. The long usurpation of that right by a foreign people and government has not extinguished the right, nor can it ever be extinguished except by the destruction of the Irish people. In every generation the Irish people have asserted their right to national freedom and sovereignty; six times during the past three hundred years they have asserted it in arms. Standing on that fundamental right and again asserting it in arms in the face of the world, we hereby proclaim the Irish Republic as a Sovereign Independent State, and we pledge our lives and the lives of our comrades in arms to the cause of its freedom, of its welfare, and of its exaltation among the nations.

The Irish Republic is entitled to, and hereby claims, the allegiance of every Irishman and Irishwoman. The Republic guarantees religious and civil liberty, equal rights and equal opportunities to all its citizens, and declares its resolve to pursue the happiness and prosperity of the whole nation and of all its parts, cherishing all the children of the nation equally, and oblivious of the differences carefully fostered by an alien Government, which have divided a minority from the majority in the past.

Until our arms have brought the opportune moment for the establishment of a permanent National Government, representative of the whole people of Ireland and elected by the suffrages of all her men and women, the Provisional Government, hereby constituted, will administer the civil and military affairs of the Republic in trust for the people.

We place the cause of the Irish Republic under the protection of the Most High God, Whose blessing we invoke upon our arms, and we pray that no one who serves that cause will dishonour it by cowardice, inhumanity, or rapine. In this supreme hour the Irish nation must, by its valour and discipline, and by the readiness of its children to sacrifice themselves for the common good, prove itself worthy of the august destiny to which it is called.

Signed on behalf of the Provisional Government:

THOMAS J. CLARKE

SEAN Mac DIARMADA

P. H. PEARSE

JAMES CONNOLLY

THOMAS MacDONAGH

EAMONN CEANNT

JOSEPH PLUNKETT

0/10

in English

#anon #styx gets asks

[juneandnick]

5x10 - Safe (The Episode: My POV)

I was close to publish my expectations for this episode when spoilers released.

I am not disappointed by Nick storylines. I wanted to see him angry and loses control because Gilead would put June and Holly in danger: We got it.

There is something I do not like with Luke. When he comes into a room he did it silently, like he was spying June. He did it in S5E01 when she is with Holly in the bathroom at the end of the episode. He did it in S5E08 when June talks and then sings to Holly. And he did it again in S5E10 when June wears her bulletproof vest.

Regarding the scene where the driver is about to run over June after having run over her arm, I am surprised that he stops his car when Luke tells him: Hey! Stop!

The driver could have accelerated. It does not make sense. Especially as, Luke did not have a gun. The gun we see when they fight seems to belong to the driver.

Later, I do not like how he treats his wife as a kid: June would you go back upstairs?

It is crazy that June has to remind him what happened 7 years ago: We waited last time and we waited too long. And we did not see how much they hated us. I lost you. And then we lost Hannah. This country is changing. America was not Gilead until it was and then it was too f**king late. Luke we have to go. We have to run.

The beautiful song Bridge Over The Border by Adam Taylor starts. Nick and Mark are on the bridge. And I cannot explain but when Nick crosses the border, I found it a little bit emotional. Maybe because he could be free and could join his girls.

The lovely song Late Night Visit by Adam Taylor starts. Nick and Mark are at the hospital. I already said what I think. If I had to write the hospital scene, I would have added a few small details: Link. I also shared a parallel I noticed: Link.

The emotionnal song Not To Her by Adam Taylor starts. Nick and Mark are back on the bridge and finalize their agreement: Work for the US government vs Keep safe June. Nick did for his girls something he always refused to do (once again after SOJ): Go in bed with a government. Because: It is not so easy to get out.

I do not think he trusts Mark but he is so desperate to keep June and Holly safe from Gilead. So the deal seems clear: If the girls are safe, I work for you. The day it is not anymore the case, if something happens to them, the agreement is cancelled.

As you said Neha200021, I also think Mark Tuello is an Osblaine shipper. 😊

Heartbreaking moment, when Nick explains why he never tried to escape with June: She has people who care for her. She does not need me. I am nothing. This moment makes me cry all the time. He loves her so deeply. He deserves happiness.

I will tell you later what are my expectations for season 6.

Nick is a person who was always in self control until this season. It started in the S5E03, at Lawrence's house, when MacKenzie says at the dinner: June Osborne is a cancer. We have to cut her out. He fidgets on his chair and it is not in his habits to show his resentment. But as he said to June in S1E03: Everybody breaks.

I think it is hard for him to believe that Joseph gave order to kill June. He cannot pretend anymore. He tried Gilead shoes but ... he cannot walk with them.

Mark gives to June new refugee cards with fake names. I wonder which new identity she has. Before to leave, she has a message for Nick: Just tell him that I am safe. Tell him that Nichole is safe, okay? She is thinking to Nick while she tries to escape with her husband, interesting. Tuello is the keeper of Osblaine secrets.

I do not like Luke at all but I have to be honest, they gave him a moment where he does something good in the aim to protect June and Holly. To give them the opportunity to escape from Canada. It is something Nick would have done if he had been in his place. But I do not like the fact the writers make to Luke a hero.

What about Rose? Was she secretly hoping to take June's place in Nick's heart? Did she hope he will focus on their "family"? Is he really the father? If yes, I do not want to see him abandon his unborn baby. But for sure, I do not want him to be chained to Gilead because of this. Something absolutely has to happen for him to be free.

I am curious about one thing. Rose says: I do not want to be with you anymore. And he answers: You cannot leave. Does it mean, I do not know, it is an arranged marriage? Does it mean Nick made a secret deal with Commander Wharton? Something more or less like that. Is it about the pregnancy? Or thinks she, she can ask a favor to her dad? Because the divorce is not an option at Gilead.

I cannot believe we had not done with Serena Joy. For me, she deserves any forgiveness ... I am tired of her. Nevertheless Yvonne did an excellent job.

Special mention for the choice of music. Adam Taylor of course 👏 and also:

Bury A Friend by Billie Eilish / Une Homme Et Une Femme by Francis Lai.

As well as Meditation - Act 2 by Thaïs. It is the scene where Naomi and Aunt Lydia talk about Janine as possible handmaid for Lawrence's house after the wedding.

Source Pictures: Screenshots (by me)

#the handmaid's tale #osblaine #june osborne #nick blaine #luke bankole #mark tuello #joseph lawrence #rose wharton #serena joy waterford #S5E10 #season5 #adam taylor #music #my POV

[warningsine]

MIAMI (AP) — A federal judge in Miami on Friday sentenced a retired Colombian army officer to life in prison for his role in plotting to kill Haiti’s President Jovenel Moïse in 2021, which caused unprecedented turmoil in the Caribbean nation.

Germán Alejandro Rivera García, 45, is the second of 11 suspects detained and charged in Miami to be sentenced in what U.S. prosecutors have described as a conspiracy hatched in both Haiti and Florida to hire mercenaries to kidnap or kill Moïse, who was slain at his private home near the Haitian capital of Port-Au-Prince on July 7, 2021.

Rivera, also known as “Colonel Mike,” had pleaded guilty in September to conspiring and supporting a plot to kill the Haitian president. According to court documents, he was part of a convoy headed to Moïse’s residence the day of the killing, after he relayed information that the plan was not to kidnap the president but rather kill him.

Rivera faced the maximum penalty of up to life imprisonment and now hopes that his sentence could be reduced in the future as part of a cooperation agreement he has signed with U.S. authorities.

Sometimes U.S. attorneys recommend judges to reduce a sentence if they determine that the convicted person helps with their investigation.

Federal Judge José E. Martínez handed down the sentence at a hearing in Miami that lasted less than 30 minutes.

“Good luck to you, Mr. Rivera,” the judge said after accepting to make a recommendation for the Colombian to remain at a South Florida federal prison, as he requested.

The sentencing came just months after Haitian-Chilean businessman Rodolphe Jaar was sentenced to life in prison in June for his role in Moïse’s killing. Meanwhile, former Haitian senator John Joel Joseph is set to be sentenced in December. Eight more defendants are waiting trial next year in the United States.

Rivera entered the hearing wearing a prisoner’s beige shirt and pants. He was handcuffed and had shackles on his ankles as he listened to the judge’s ruling seated next to his attorney.

The Colombian declined to make statements when the judge asked him if he had anything to say. “Not at the moment, your honor,” Rivera answered.

According to the charges, Rivera, Jaar, Joseph and others, including about 20 Colombian citizens and several dual Haitian-American citizens, participated in the plot. The conspirators initially planned to kidnap the Haitian president, and later changed the plan to kill him. Investigators allege the plotters had hoped to win contracts under a successor to Moïse.

Moïse was killed when assailants broke into his home. He was 53 years old.

Meanwhile, more than 40 suspects in the case remain detained in Haiti and have languished in prison more than two years after the assassination as the newest investigative judge continues his interrogations. Among those arrested after the killing are 18 former Colombian soldiers, who are in custody in Haiti.

The case received a boost last week when police arrested Joseph Félix Badio, a key suspect who once worked at Haiti’s Ministry of Justice and at the government’s anti-corruption unit. He was detained in the capital of Port-au-Prince after more than two years on the run.

Since the assassination, Haiti has experienced a surge of gang violence that led the prime minister to request the deployment of an armed force. In early October, the U.N. Security Council voted to send a multinational force led by Kenya to help fight the gangs.

Kenya has not announced a deployment date.

#Jovenel Moïse #Alejandro Rivera García #Miami #United States

[spreadyourwingsc]

Sy and  Soirse. Chapter 5

 Summary: Sy and Soirse figure their way through their relationship, before, during and after Sy is deployed.

Disclaimer: This is the first story I have ever written and published. Capt Syverson is not my own.  Soirse is, I don’t intend to offend anyone nor anyones culture with my story, if you feel that this content belongs to you or anyone else, please let me know and I will delete it.

TW: This story contains: violence, attempted SA, strong language and mature scenes, please proceed cautiously, you’d been advised. If there’s something I missed, please let me know

AN: I’m open to any suggestion and advices, I don’t know where the story is going yet, but if you want to help me write it, or better it!, please let me know!

Chapter 5

Instead of beautiful Saoirse, there stood two men, one that looked extremely similar to Conner Walsh, he thought he was seeing a double for a moment.

“Logan Joseph Syverson?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Great, you’re already following accordingly son”.  The Colonel looked at his partner with a smile.

“I don’t follow sir-“

“Pardon, and let us introduce ourselves, I am Colonel Conner Walsh II, and this is Captain Alex Feinn, Special Forces”.

“Um, nice to meet you sir-sirs, to what I owe this pleasure?...or should I say displeasure?” Sy was sure they were there to execute him. 

“You’ve been recruited by the request of the United States government, dotted by your lawyer and representative of the state, to the US Military, effective immediately”. Sy was speechless what was going on?

“Hold on I never-wha-I though-“

“Can we have a few words in private with the inmate, officer…Wallace?” The Colonel read the officer’s tag, and looked at him with a stern look that didn’t leave any question for another answer other than no.

“Son, listen to me, we don’t have much time, and you don’t have much choice, you got the best lawyer in town, hell, he might be the best lawyer in this whole damn country, got to parol your sentence, if you devote your time to the military”. Holy shit. 

“So you either pick up your shit, and leave with us right now, or…you let your sorry ass waste in a prison cell you don’t even belong with in the same place”. Sy couldn’t believe what was happening, did this ever happen in real life, all he couldn think about is who the hell pulled these strings for him, he sure as hell didn’t think…well yeah his father was military but…wait

“Who arranged all this?”

“That’s confidential information and none of your fucking business…” He looked knowingly 

“Just helping a brother in law…out”

At this his eyes widened and realization came crashing on him, the Colonel was Saorsies brother, he should have known by his name and the way he looked like her dad, and a little bit like her, but the lawyer…Caohimin Walsh, of course, of course your family had all but fucking ridiculous talented people on it, he wouldn’t expect anything less for a brilliant girl like her, oh fuck sake, if only he could kiss her at that exact same

One thing was for certain as he made the paperwork for his discharge, and collected his belongings, including his favorite photo of her that he held for dear life. He was going to be the best damn fucking soldier the US army has ever sought, and after he’s done his first tour, he was going to come back to her make an honest woman out of her and marry her, and fill her up with all the babies she wants. He promised himself to give her a life that made them forget this horrible nightmare he has put her in. 

--

Thanks for reading!

[mysterymanjoseph]

Doing What is Right:  mysterymanjoseph and blackwidowandco

Someone against the government of the small South American country where one of the engineering firms that Joseph’s corporation owns a part of have been taken hostage.  He activates his mercenary force after hearing the news, sending in intel gathering resources to get as accurate, on site information that can be had.  It seems the hostages have been taken into the jungle, held at an impromptu ‘prison camp’.  It has taken a couple weeks to get things in order and arranged.  His force can’t infiltrate by helicopter, which would be standard operation, the thick jungle prevents that option.  So, he and his force,...being a Marine combat veteran, he feels obligated to go in with his force as long as he is physically able to do so, have marched in across the border.  Local guides led them to the camp, and now, at near 2am, local time, they are in readiness for the attack.  Off shore, his ships, the converted cargo container ship, Tripoli, now serving as troop transport and helicopter carrier, and the pride of and joy of his force, the former USS Hornet CV-12, still Hornet CV-12 just not USS anymore, are launching their craft to provide close air support, extraction, and operations CAP.  Hornet was saved back in the 90s by Joseph’s grandfather from being scrapped, by means of the greatest ‘bait and switch’ game in the history of con games.  She was secretly towed to Germany, and after years of refit and upgrade in an enclosed dry dock, left for the Caribbean base that his force calls home.  Now, in the night, she launches highly evolved versions of WWII era aircraft, the mighty Douglas Skyraider, and Sikorsky F4U Corsairs.  Tripoli is launching equally evolved UH-1 Hughy helicopters, and his force’s version of the Bell AH-1 Cobra gunship, which they now call the Ultra Cobra.  Timing is everything, the helicopters and aircraft are due to arrive on scene the moment the operation is launched.  Joseph and his men, dressed in what appear to be WWII surplus uniforms, just to confuse any witnesses on where the force came from, wait, lying on their bellies at the edge of the clearing surrounding the encampment.  When he can hear the planes and helicopters approach, a flare will be shot up into the sky over the camp, and the attack will commence.  Joseph uncovers his wristwatch, notes the time, then leans to the man to his right, his acting Sergeant, whispering into his ear, “About fifteen minutes Sarge, pass it on.”

@blackwidowandco

#peggy carter

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you in the NHS, welcome to just another day!

On Sunday morning, I awoke just before 10.00 a.m. It had been a big Saturday! Mercifully, The Mighty Josiah let me sleep.

I hope you enjoyed your bank holiday weekend. I was marking assignments all day Thursday and teaching all day Friday, though we did enjoy some Jubilee fun on Friday evening. Many thanks to C.c. Corroyer for feeding some hungry and weary travellers. The perfect end to a busy week!

Many thanks to everyone that listened to the radio show on Saturday. Many thanks for all your kind words and compliments. The Letter G (Pt. 7) is next Saturday at 1.00pm, with my special guest Carlene Graham telling us all about her life and playing us some exclusive music. Can’t remember the last time I did a live tribute! Need to get in some more studio guests.

On Saturday afternoon, I went straight from the studio (Deptford) to The Bricklayers Arms (803 High Road, Tottenham) and began my marathon six-hour set. As promised, I played six hours of reggae, lover’s rock, disco and soul (NOT soulful house; there’s just no need!) and, by 1.00 a.m., I was proper broken but the owner of the pub looked well happy, and wants me to come back on a monthly basis! Works for me! Nice place, nice people. At one point, a very drunk Romanian man put a five pound note into my hand and said something in Romanian. He hadn’t got a clue who we were or what he was listening to but, if you’re surrounded by beautiful people having a good time, the vibe is infectious. He had absolutely no sense of rhythm but I think he danced harder than all of us! Well done to Theresa Tee Mills for organising the event (raising money for local charities) which included an auction for classy prizes and services. Lovely to see some very beautiful people in attendance! Lovely to finally meet the stellar Hannah Joseph, a highly respected figure within the music industry and a full-on soul girl. Hopefully, we’ll be seeing she and her crew on a regular basis?

One of the saddest things about this government is the way they’ve emasculated the BBC. I’m sure you know how respected and revered the BBC is around the world, for its drama, its documentaries, its comedy and its factual, impartial global news. Sadly, though, the BBC has now become a tool of propaganda for the government, rather like the national news service in dictatorships like Russia and North Korea. When the prime minister arrived at St. Paul’s Cathedral for the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee Service and he and his wife ascended the steps, he was booed by the waiting crowd. Though, when the news footage hit the BBC later that day, the boos had been edited out. The sound had been doctored and replaced with cheering crowds. So now, unfortunately, even on the BBC, we have to be careful about what we believe. Maybe it’s news? Maybe it’s not?

Happy belated birthday to Breonna Taylor. She would have been 29 yesterday. Breonna was one of the most prominent victims of police violence and misconduct in 2020. She worked for Jewish East Medical Center as a full-time Emergency Room Technician and a Practicing Registered Nurse for Norton Healthcare. Under a “no-knock” search warrant, Louisville Metro Police Department officers, all in plain clothes, stormed into the apartment. Her boyfriend, thinking it was a robbery, fired one shot in self-defence. One officer was hit in the leg and, in response, the other officers opened fire, releasing more than twenty rounds into the apartment. Breonna was shot eight times and collapsed in the hallway of her apartment. She was pronounced dead at the scene. The white man that killed ten people in a Buffalo grocery store on May 14th was captured alive.

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #lockdown #new blog #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Extreme Aggressor: Part One

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, woman gets killed in an alley, talk of strangling and stabbing a woman

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t! 

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

So without further ado, please enjoy!

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness." - Joseph Conrad

Not everyone knows this but each and every person has an aura around their body as if it hovers to remind people like you that they have things to hide. Not many people can see and do what you can do, but then again, you don’t want them to. All your life, you have been able to connect with people on a much deeper level than the average human. Those auras contain energies that you are able to connect with, therefore see more than what the normal eye can.

This ability that you have has gotten you in places you should never be. It’s gotten you where another dare not to venture. It’s allowed you to see the true intention and personality of a person no matter how high and thick their walls may be. Now, some people are better at hiding their true selves than others, but you always manage to figure out what makes them tick.

Your abilities have captured the attention of a really great friend, Jason Gideon. When he figured out the thing you could do, he knew you would make a great addition to his team. Granted, he was on a “summer break” so to speak, but he would be more than happy to give you a recommendation. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the FBI, you just didn’t know if you would be good enough.

Never have your abilities let you down even if they didn’t always give you want you wanted. No one really knew what you could do, not even your family. It made you feel like a freak, like you never belonged anywhere since all you could do was see on the soulful plane. Maybe the BAU would benefit from having you on board, but would you benefit from having the BAU on your side? Your father always told you never to join any kind of government work, and at the time, he gave a good enough reason to keep you away. Something about them always taking jobs right from underneath everyone’s noses, and you believed him when you were a kid.

Now, not so much.

It was hard to when all you saw was death wherever you go. You didn’t ask for this ability, but you got it, and it was your responsibility to help as many people as you could with it until the day you die. That was the only reason why you were considering taking Jason up on his offer. There was still some hesitation on your shoulder, and you thought a walk would do you nice.

The crowded city rushed on without you, but you only had one thing on your mind. It was the busiest part of the city, but you liked walking through there once in a while. Everyone’s thoughts and feelings came to light when they were in a rush. It bombarded you and often overwhelmed you, but nothing overcame the sickening feeling you got in your stomach when you stepped on Jefferson Rd.

The energy in the air swirled around you, but it wasn’t energy from the people around you; it was from the dead. Even spirits leave energy behind when they pass which allow people like you to snatch it up to figure out their story. The way it works is that you become so overwhelmed with the emotions and the energy that you begin to see some of the last moments that spirit went through before it passed. You are allowed to see it based on how well you connect with it.

Some people have called you being psychic while other people called you a witch. Being an empathetic person helped you see the picture clearly. Not always will you get a clear one, and sometimes, you may not even get a full body. It’s whatever the spirit left behind and wanted you to see. They laid down the stepping stones, and it was up to you to be able to pass them.

Standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, you looked to your left to see a woman appear out of thin air. She was a bit transparent which is how you were able to spot the difference between an energy source and a real human. She was maybe in her mid-twenties, and she was jogging with headphones in. She passed by you without a second glance, and everyone around you seemed to disappear since the only person you were able to focus on was her.

She jogged for a few more seconds when a black apparition came out of the alley not far from you. The black shape grabbed at the woman, but you needed to replay that scene over if you wanted to connect with his spirit. Sometimes, when a picture isn’t clear, you have to replay the mini silent movie over and over again until you can either get a clear picture or you knew that you weren’t getting anything more.

As if you had a remote in one hand, you pressed it which rewound the action. The woman jogged backwards past you to where she first emerged, and you hit the play button. Just like before, she jogged past you, minding her own business when the black shape came at her. This time, he was a bit clearer. Repeating this process over and over again, you watched the woman get kidnapped about twenty more times before you could see the exact details of the man’s face.

He grabbed her and pulled her into the alley, but you couldn’t seem to move. The clearer the picture, the stronger the energy. The stronger the energy meant the event you watched happened recently. The longer the event goes unsolved, the less amount of energy you are able to connect with.

Something happened in that alley, but you dreaded going anywhere near it. However, this woman’s story was untold, and her spirit won’t rest unless someone tells it for her. Taking a deep breath, you looked at the busy street and suddenly remembered that you were in the middle of a city with a bustling amount of people around you.

Pushing past the crowd, you made your way to the alley until you were completely alone as the rest of the world left the single girl who was in the alley alone. There was one particular spot that drew you in, and you took a few steps towards it before getting another vision. The man jammed a knife into the woman’s abdomen, and you gasped when you felt her emotional pain. Being an empath is really hard work since you had more than yourself to worry about.

The woman dropped to the ground with a loud thud, and the man kept stabbing her over and over again until she was way past dead. Once he was satisfied, he took the murder weapon with him and fled the scene, running right past you to do it. It took everything in you to look away from his eyes despite your body telling you to do so.

The noise of the busy city drowned out the sound of a body thumping on the ground, and you crept to the area where she was stabbed. Instead of a body, there was a thick blue tarp covering the ground. It looked like a body was underneath it, but it could be trash. Please let it be trash. Please let it be trash. Picking up the end of the tarp with your gloved hand, you peeked underneath it to see wide soulless eyes staring at you.

The shock overwhelmed you, and you dropped the tarp in shock. Tears threatened to escape your eyes, but if it wasn’t for you, this woman probably would have never been found—or, at least, not right now. From what you could gather, the body was still fresh with only sight signs of decaying. If you called the police now, they might be able to find her killer.

Taking out your cellphone, you dialed 911 and put in an anonymous tip before getting the hell out of there. It didn’t take long for first responders to arrive on scene, and you watched from the deli across the street as they uncovered her. She was found because of you. She is going to get justice because of you.

That was all the evidence you needed to make your decision.

Taking out your phone once more, you called your dear and beloved friend. It took him three rings to pick up.

“Jason, it’s me, Y/N. I’ll take it.”

Gideon was sucked back into the BAU on a case after he needed to take some time for himself. He was involved with a bomber that took out one hostage and six agents, so you could understand why he requested for your help. He trusted you to aid this team in finding a killer, especially when he saw what you can do first-hand. It was hard to explain your abilities to someone who couldn’t possibly understand, but you knew you had to since he had a jet full of his other teammates.

It didn’t take long to get to the airport where the jet was waiting, and before you ascended the stairs, you could feel everyone’s emotions—impatient, curiosity, calmness, and eagerness. They were all waiting for you, and you needed to show them that you belonged on their team. Walking on the jet, all heads turned at the new presence. Gideon stood up and approached you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“It’s good to see you again,” he stated.

“Well, you needed me. Here I am,” you nodded, looking at everyone else on the jet.

The person you noticed first was what you assumed to be the second person in charge. He had almost black hair and a hard gaze since he didn’t really like newcomers. The next person was a black male who emitted impatience since he just wanted to get in the air. The last person was a scrawny young male which is where the curiosity was coming from.

“Y/N, this is my team. Agent Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, and Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer Reid?” you asked, and the young man perked up at the sound of his name. “Sorry, but I’ve read everything you have ever written especially Identifying Non-obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modeling and Geographic Regression. You have a very intelligent mind.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, clearly impressed that you read his work.

“Guys, this is my good friend Y/N that I’ve asked to help us on this case.”

“Is she FBI?” Hotchner asked.

“Not exactly.”

“I am what’s known as an empathetic psychic. If ‘witch’ makes you sleep better at night, then call me that. I see things that most people are not able to see. I connect with people’s energies, especially the dead. Believe it or not, I see events that lead up to someone’s death due to the energy and the spirit they leave behind. The more recent the event, the stronger of a picture I get. It doesn’t always give me what I want, but it always provides me with what I need. I’ll be a valuable asset to this team.”

“I already approved it with the board. She has her firearm qualification and she passed the academy with flying colors,” Gideon sided with you.

“We need to get going. We’ll see how you do on this case,” Hotchner nodded.

With that, the plane was off. It wasn’t until the pilot let you know it was safe to move around the cabin that everyone start to talk about the case.

“His first victim was Melissa Kirsh—stab wounds and strangulation,” Spencer read from the file.

“Wait, wait. Back up. Back up,” Derek interrupted. “He stabbed her and then strangled her to finish her off?”

“Other way around,” Gideon cleared his throat before turning to you, the hopefully newest member of the team. “Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?”

“Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe,” you said, earning a few stares from the others. You knew it would take some time for them to get used to you, especially when they didn’t even know you. The fact that you’re with them is because you’re friends with Gideon. “He tried and probably found that it took too long so he stabbed her instead and realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood.”

“Next time, our boy's got a method—the belt,” Derek added.

“He's learning and perfecting his scenario. Becoming a better killer,” Gideon stated.

“So, Y/N, where did you learn about profiling?” Hotchner asked, taking a break from the case.

“I have a PhD in Criminal Justice with a sole focus on profiling. Another one in Psychology which better helps me connect with others. I thought Gideon told you all of this,” you asked, looking at your friend.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Spencer asked.

“Twenty-three. Well, I turn twenty-three in a few months.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. How did you get two PhD’s at your age?”

“How’d you get three at yours?”

“I’m a genius with an eidetic memory.”

“Yeah, well, I worked my ass off to get where I am so just know that you’re not letting just anyone on this jet with you. I’d be happy to prove myself to you guys. I’ve been doing it since I could read.”

“There’s a few more of us you still have to meet,” Hotchner stated.

“Lucky you, Reid,” Derek grinned. The young doctor stared at his friend in confusion. “You’re not the youngest one here anymore.”

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner​

#extreme aggressor #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fluff #cm angst #season 1 episode 1 #s1e1

[deliciousangelfestival]

xWicked Romance : Chapter 4 : He’s cute.

Character : Mob!Steve Rogers x Retired Assassin Female Reader

Summary : Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

Warning : No smuts, since I don’t know how to write it. Peace y’all.

Steve woke up because he felt someone softly brushing his hair. He opened his eyes, finding her hand stopped. Both of them are lying on his bed.

Her head still laying on his arm, he move her body closer to feel her warmth. He bury his head into the crook of her neck and mumbled "Don't stop."

“That’s a nice way to wake me up.” His voice sounded deeper and raspy. 

(Y/N) chuckled softly when she heard his voice. “You’re too excited last night.”

She suddenly turned her body and jumped off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Steve was surprised that she's easily escape from his arms.

“Stay there; I’ll be back.”

When she left the room, Steve noticed she was wearing his shirt and boxer. 

The smell of bacon and pancakes made him look at his door. She came in, bringing a tray filled with food, a glass of water, egg, bacon, pancake, and coffee. It's been a while since he had breakfast in his own house. 

Steve is confused if today is his birthday or not? He never got pampered like this. Usually, it was him the one who did this kind of thing. Not the other way around. 

He sat up, the blanket only covering his waist this time. (Y/N) gently put the food tray on his lap. She saw Steve had a confused expression on his face.

“You need a big breakfast to start your day.” (Y/N) said.

“How did you manage to do all of this?” Steve asked after he finished drinking water. 

“Because I woke up too early. I made breakfast for both of us.” (Y/N) said, walking in with another tray of foods. She sat beside him and kissed his side lips. “You completely tired me out last night.”

Steve gave a loud laugh; he never could imagine a girl like (Y/N) not just brave but also good at cooking. He didn’t notice she was able to slip out from his arm. Because of his habit he got from the military, Steve could get awake so easily even with a small voice and movement.

Both of them enjoy their breakfast together, a few dirty jokes there but not much since it’s still early in the morning. After that, they have another hot session in the bathroom. (snu snu time.)

The time they spent together (Y/N) told Steve he is free to ask anything from her. She’s pretty sure if she tells him everything about how she grows up, he wouldn’t believe any word that came out of her mouth. 

Steve doesn’t mind it; he prefers her life to be mysterious. She never failed to give him a surprise. He likes her spontaneity. Perhaps some day she could give him a heart attack. 

While they put on their clothes (Y/N) phone vibrates with a pop message from Peter saying he’s downstairs to pick her up. 

“Do you have to go?” 

Steve felt the time was not enough when she told him that she needed to go. 

“Come on, just stay a bit more,” Steve asked her with a pleading tone. He holds her wrist when she is ready to go out. (Y/N) saw his puppy eyes couldn’t help blurting out, “So cute.” 

Steve get worried; no one would dare to call him the mafia boss cute. At the moment, he questioned his masculinity. In which part she saw him cute. 

“I have too.” Her finger caressed his cheeks and touched his beard. “Let’s have dinner tonight. Okay?”

Steve answered, “Alright, see you tonight.” Before he released her, he gave a surprise kiss on her lips. 

With hazy eyes, he pulls away while (Y/N) is still shocked with the kissed “Wow.”

Steve chuckled and winked at her. “That’s a sneak peek for tonight.”

(Y/N) smiled, she doesn’t want to light a fire from Steve. She closed the door and left the house. 

When she walked out, (Y/N) saw two older couples get out of a car. She knew who it was. They are Steve’s mother, Sarah Rogers, and the former mafia boss Joseph Rogers. 

She looks at them as a couple; they look lovely together. But (Y/N) noticed when Sarah looked at her, she became a scary mother in law like on the TV. 

Sarah walk like a lady and stop infront of her. She told (Y/N), “Listen carefully. Regardless of what happens between you two. I can’t accept you. I know you are different from any other woman. Even if you can stop Brock with just one bullet, I’m not going to let some girl use my son again.” 

After she said her words, Sarah turned and left (Y/N) alone while Joseph finally followed her. 

Sarah walks too fast; she turns and talks to her husband, “Is she still looking?”

Joseph glanced through his shoulder “Yeah, and she’s waving at us.”

Sarah was bewildered. “What kind of woman Steve got into this time?” She thought the woman would get angry, but it turned out she’s still there and waved at them. 

“First, it’s a C.I.A then a journalist. Now what?” Sarah sighed. 

Joseph also feels the same way as his wife. Their son picks a girl that always reveals their business. It’s pretty funny seeing his wife getting so worked up. 

“Alright, don’t get mad. Let’s meet our son.” Joseph hugged his wife's shoulder. 

When the bell rang, Steve hoped it's (Y/N) the one who stands in front of his door. He didn’t even check the monitor; he quickly opened the door. 

"You're back…." Steve didn’t even finish his speech. His smile dropped when he saw his parents.

"Stevie." Sarah hugs him. 

"Mom? Dad? What are you- AHHH!!!” 

Steve hissed when his mother pinched his chest. He looked at his father with a look of ‘What’s all that about?’

Joseph answered, “We met her when we arrived.”

Steve finally understands why his mother became moody this morning. 

“I can see why you like her. She seems different.” Joseph whispered at his son while Steve nodded all the time. 

Sarah suddenly jumped in. “Are you sure she’s good for you? What’s her job? Please don’t tell me she’s a lawyer or a judge?”

Steve patted her back to calm her down. “Mom, calm down; I’m not dating from that side this time. She’s an analyst in automotive for a private company.”

“Ooh, that explains the nice car,” Joseph murmured. Sarah glared at her husband. 

“I hope you don’t get a heartbreak this time.” Sarah felt pity towards her son, Steve could be scary when he’s mad, but when he’s sad, he looks like a golden retriever puppy. 

He understands why his mother asked him this cause she saw how broken he was when his relationship ended with Peggy. 

####

From day one, they have obstacles because of their jobs. Peggy stands to abide by the law while he already saw how corrupt and hypocritical the government is. He saw his comrade die for nothing. 

His world almost crumbled when he found out that Peggy was ready to put his family into jail. And the most hurtful thing is that she did that to get a promotion. 

'What am I to you?' He asked her this question. She was unable to give him the answer.  

####

But behind the thunder, there’s a rainbow; his mother, Sarah, she used to not give a damn about what Steve and her husband did in mobster stuff. When she found out her son got used, she went livid. 

She told her son to make them regret treating him like that. Sarah knows her son is a mobster, his life is always related to dark stuff, but he always makes sure to treat his own woman like a queen. 

And right now, he knew he moved too fast with (Y/N), but he felt like she shares the same value with him. 

.

.

.

In the afternoon, Steve is in the car with Sam and Bucky. They’re heading to the hospital right now. 

Steve was looking at the window; he could see his reflection. He suddenly remembered what (Y/N) said in the morning, “Guys.”

Bucky and Sam ‘Hmmm’ at the same time.

“Do I look cute?”

Sam stops the car abruptly. Suddenly everything became silent. While Bucky cursed, “What the f#%* Steve?”

“Alright, the answer is pretty clear.” Steve scoffed, he doesn’t want to continue; their reaction is enough for him. 

Sam and Bucky are confused because their friend just asks them nonsense questions. 

“Well, we have arrived,” Sam said; he looked at Bucky. “You follow him; I will stay here. Make sure he doesn't get plastic surgery.”

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of the car with Bucky. 

“Is she the one who said you’re cute?”

Steve nodded.

“Hmm, you completely whipped. Well Steve, I completely understand,” Bucky tells him they’re in the same position since he’s with Natasha. 

Both of them stopped at the V.I.P patient room. They saw two bodyguards standing in front of the door. The bodyguard steps away when Steve approaches them. One of the bodyguards opened the door for him. 

Steve turns to Bucky. “Wait here.”

“Sure.”

Steve walked into the room; he thought Brock still fainted. It turns out he’s awake and eating. 

Brock was wearing a neck brace, his two legs wrapped in a cast, his left arm also wrapped in a cast, and his elbow fractured. 

Brock lifted his head when he saw Steve. He clicked his tongue. 

“Your girlfriend almost killed me.”’

“Huh?” Steve responded. 

Steve didn’t know that (Y/N) visited Brock before him. 

####

What happened 4 hours ago 

It was Peter who picked up (Y/N) at Steve’s place with her car.

She gets into the car and puts on her seatbelt. “Let’s go back to my apartment first; I need to change my clothes. I have to meet someone later.”

“Who?”

“A friend, he got into an accident last night.”

“Hmm.”

When they arrived at her place, Peter asked, “Let me guess your sick friend is Brock?”

“Yes.”

Peter shook his head. “Poor guy.”

.

.

At the hospital.

Brock is feeling drowsy because of the painkiller. Because of the car crash, his neck got the impact. 

He saw a shadow figure in front of him, “You!!!”

“Good afternoon Rumlow.”

“Hmph!!!” Brock wants to strangle her; he remembered her from last night. 

(Y/N) walked closer to his infusion bottle; she took out something from her pocket. 

“Wha--”

“You see, Rumlow, I kinda like Steve, but the Tom & Jerry fight between you and him has to stop. I don’t want you to appear and ruined the romantic moment like last night.”

Brock finally could see what she’s holding in her hand. (Y/N) notices he is looking at the syringe that she has.

“What inside this syringe could put you to sleep forever. You know what I’m capable of, right?”

Brock cursed, “#$%^*!!!”

(Y/N) nodded. “Correct, so if you still want to leave, just stay 1 million km from us, okay?”

Brock defeatedly answered, “Okay.”

“Great, go back to rest.” She opens the cap of the syringe and injects it into his infusion bottle.

“Bi*$#!!”

“Relax, it’s just another painkiller for you.” After she said that, Brock eventually fell asleep. 

When he woke up, his bodyguard gave him a food container with a small note 'I'm sorry, she’s pretty scary.'

####

Back to the present

“Really?” Steve was astounded.

“Your new girl is crazy.” Brock clicked his tongue. He can’t imagine having a girlfriend like (Y/N).

In Steve’s mind, her threat towards Brock is nothing. His heart fluttered when he knew what she did for him. Never in his life, a woman would threaten his rival for him. He never get spoiled like this. 

Steve chuckled; he got up from the chair and mumbled on the way out of the hospital ward, remembering what (Y/N) had done for him “My cute devil.”

He finds it cute, though; he never had a brave enough girlfriend to threaten his rival. He used to be the one who protects his girl. 

Steve wants to meet her again; lucky for him, she texts him first and gives her location. 

.

.

.

Steve arrived at the high-end restaurant that, even for him, it’s difficult to book a table. She won’t stop giving him a surprise. He saw her wearing a dress that fitted her figure. She looked beautiful and confident.  

“(Y/N).”

(Y/N) raised her face gently, the corner of her lips moving upward when she saw him. 

Steve felt like he could drown in it. Both of them had dinner together. While they’re eating, he needs to say something important to her. They were having wine when he grasps her hand. It made her look at him. 

He has to say it to give her the chance to walk away “(Y/N); I like you. I feel a connection between us. But being with me means sometimes you will be facing unexpected things. I know you are strong, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

She tilted her head a little and looked at Steve in front of her. She pinched his chin lightly. “Steve, I don’t care how many enemies you have.”

“I will kill them one by one.” 

She wasn’t saying a flirty line towards him instead of a deadly one. Everyone said she’s scary, but for him, she’s a great blessing in his life. 

“You know that I’m capable. I don’t mind working as your partner. Not just as your girlfriend.”

‘Thump!’ Steve's heart fluttered when he heard that word.

“Girlfriend?” 

“You don’t want to?” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows. 

Steve quickly answered, “Please be my girlfriend.” It would be crazy to decline it; he wants to show the world that she belongs to him. He’s afraid if he’s too late, she will slip away from his finger. To put it more plainly, Steve may not have met another woman like (Y/N). 

A/N: Thank you for the likes and reblogged my post. 

To my followers and people who liked my post, I hope you don’t mind if I tag your name:

Tag:

@samwinter09

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#mob!steve rogers x reader #Marvel AU #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #mob!steve #Steve Rogers

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

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

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

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

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

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

They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

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

He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

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

“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

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

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #bachelor au #taz amnesty

[hufflepuffhermione]

I’m on a Dad Josh kick - let’s go with 37. “Welcome to fatherhood.” if you feel like it? Thank you!

More fluffy future fic for you, because I also cannot get enough of Dad Josh.

Thanksgiving 2010

Josh closes the door behind him, pausing for a brief minute to ensure there’s no crying. He’s finally managed to get Noah down for a nap in the Pack’N’Play they’ve set up in what used to be Liz’s bedroom. He had refused to go down that morning for a pre-Thanksgiving nap, but by the time Abbey was starting to clear away the plates, it was clear that he was not going to last much longer.

That didn’t mean he went down without a fight, however.

Josh takes a deep breath when he puts his ear to the door one last time and hears silence. At all of seventeen months, Noah has definitely inherited his father’s stubborn streak. But if he’s down, he’ll get a good two hours of sleep and then they’ll have to fight him to step again that night.

Such are the joys of having a toddler. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Still, Josh thought he knew exhaustion. He’d certainly had his share of sleepless nights and had kept going for years on the few hours of sleep he could manage to snatch. But fatherhood is a different kind of tiring, and he isn’t as young as he used to be. He hasn’t slept through a whole night in three weeks.

That isn’t Noah’s fault, though. That’s the fault of the little bundle currently in the arms of the former President of the United States.

“She’s a good sleeper, this one,” Jed says, looking up at Josh as he enters the living room. Donna and Abbey and Zoey are all in the kitchen, and Charlie is somewhere with their six-month old, also trying to induce a nap.

Josh chuckles and takes a seat on the couch next to Jed. “Only during the day. At night, she’s wide awake for every feeding and hates to go back down again.”

“Welcome to fatherhood. Still, a nicer reason for sleepless nights than being stuck in the situation room, huh?”

“Infinitesimally better,” Josh replies, reaching out to stroke his daughter’s light hair. He hopes she’ll look just like Donna.

Jed smirks. “You do know, Josh, that while the word ‘infinite’ refers to a limitless amount, the word ‘infinitesimal’ actually indicates a very small number, so what you’re telling me is that it’s only barely better to wake up to your daughter crying than to troop movements in Kazakhstan?”

“See, sir, I don’t dread going into the Oval Office anymore because I know President Santos won’t lecture me on vocabulary.”

“Nonsense, you miss me in there,” Jed scoffs. “Will I ever convince you to call me Jed, though?

“Not a chance.”

His face softens as he asks the question he’s been waiting to ask this whole time. “You’re really stepping down at the end of the term?”

Josh bites his lip and nods. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He clears his throat. “Um… quite a few reasons. You know as well as anybody that working in the White House can burn you out, and very rarely does a Chief of Staff last longer than a term. Leo was unique.” It still makes his heart clench to think about Leo, and it’s not lost on him that the length of Leo’s tenure was not disconnected from his death. “And I’ve been in there for almost twelve years, give or take a few. I love the work, and I know it’s the most important work I’ll ever do, but… there are more important things in my life now.” He looks down to smile at his daughter. “And several doctors, including your wife, have told me I’d benefit from a lower-stress lifestyle. I want to be around to see my kids grow up, sir, and there are some potential obstacles to that but I’m doing all that I can to stay healthy and be around for them.”

“Those are all excellent reasons, Josh.”

“Do you know, it’s interesting, this summer when I was debating whether or not I’d stay on if we got another term… something you said came to me.”

Jed nods. “What did I say?”

“It was during the whole debacle with the Surgeon General, and Ellie made a comment to a reporter, and you didn’t fire the Surgeon General because of it and…” Josh shakes his head and smiles. “I didn’t think it was the right move, because it would look like you did it because Ellie wanted you to.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“That when I had a daughter, I’d discover there are worse reasons in the world to do something.” Josh lets himself chuckle. “When Donna and I found we were having a daughter, well… that’s the moment I knew that even if we won, I wasn’t going to go back for a second term.”

Jed looks down at the infant in his arms, who has just opened her eyes. “I think she appreciates that,” he says. His arms are starting to feel weak—while the reduced stress has certainly kept his health in check, he’s still prone to weakness—and so he shifts the baby into Josh’s arms. “I’ve kept her away from you long enough.”

“She’s named after you, you know.”

“Josie?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Josh says. He meets his daughter’s bright blue eyes and can’t chase the feeling of being mesmerized.

“I had my suspicions.”

“Well, Donna’s father is Joseph, so it’s partially for him. And for Josiah, of course. And it sounds a little like Joanie—my sister,” his voice tightens imperceptibly, “but it’s still something all her own.”

Jed reaches out to put a hand on Josh’s arm. “It’s lovely.”

“I can’t get enough of her. I mean, I felt the same with Noah, but I wasn’t sure with the second if I would… but it really doesn’t go away,” Josh whispers reverently as Josie closes her eyes again. “I want to be here for all her moments. I missed Noah’s first steps because I was in the situation room. I don’t want to… I mean, I know they won’t remember it, but I will, and now that Noah is going to start remembering things… I want to be a part of his life. I want to be a part of Josie’s life. I don’t want to be absent because I’m too busy with work.”

“Admirable. What next for you, then? I find it hard to imagine you tolerating unemployment well.”

Josh shakes his head. “No, I don’t do boredom. I’ve got a couple offers from universities—I might teach a few courses at Georgetown—and I could always do consulting. And I may have reached the peak of my career, but Donna certainly hasn’t hit hers. I’ve got big plans for her. When Haake out in the Wisconsin 2nd retires, which is still a little ways off but he’s in his seventies and I know he’s starting to think about it, I want her to run for his seat.”

“Donna in Congress? Well that’s an idea. You’d move to Wisconsin?”

“Part-time, probably. I could consult from anywhere and frankly, make a lot more money doing that than drawing a government salary. But I don’t imagine we’ll ever fully leave DC.” He lets out a sigh. “But Haake’s got another three or four terms left in him, so we’ve got a while before that happens. For now, she’s staying on with Mrs. Santos but I know the President is hoping to poach her and bring her to the West Wing.” He looks down at Josie and chuckles again. “Your mama’s really quite in demand, isn’t she?”

Jed loves the scene in front of him; while years ago he might not have been able to imagine Josh as a father, now he can’t imagine the younger man as anything but. “You’re really at peace with leaving. I never thought you’d get out of politics willingly—I figured they’d have to drag you out by your ankles.”

“I’m not getting out of politics, just… taking a backseat,” Josh says. “I’ve got other plans, too; there’s a Senate seat in California opening up in the midterms and I want it to be Sam’s.” He quiets, blinking reflectively. “How do you do it, sir? Leave the White House?”

Jed pats Josh’s knee and stands up slowly. “As long as you keep calling me sir, I feel like I never left,” he jokes. “You see the bigger picture. Realize there’s more to life.”

Josh leans into the back of the couch and shifts Josie so that she’s on his chest and shoulder. “You couldn’t have convinced me of that five years ago, but…there certainly is.”

“I’m proud of you, Josh,” Jed says, and Josh doesn’t think he’s ever received a better compliment. “Now, I think we’ve gone too long without bothering our wives, and I’ve found some room within me to consume some pie.”

Josh leans his head back and smiles. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his daughter resting on his chest, and lets his breaths align with hers, until Donna comes into the living room to announce dessert and finds her husband and daughter asleep in the living room.

“Fatherhood takes it out of you, doesn’t it?” she says softly to wake him.

He opens his eyes and sits up, smiling. “Never a more worthwhile endeavor.”

#jessbakescakes #josh lyman #josh x donna #the west wing #tww fic #alli's writings #i almost didn't put donna in this lol but i figured she should make an appearance #she's important #but anyway dad josh has my heart #and this kind of got away from me #but it fits into my headcanon future with all the other fics i've been writing lately #and like... if a fic isn't three times the length it's supposed to be it wouldn't be my writing right?

[juneandnick]

Fanfiction - “Meeting in Toronto” - Part 1 on 4 by me

Do not hesitate to tell me what you think. Sorry for all mistakes.

June knows about the deal between Nick and the US government. She knows he crossed the border to see her at the hospital and he gave a punch to Joseph back at Gilead. She knows Nick blowed up his life for her. Everybody breaks, she recalls.

June is so angry that he can think a second he is nothing. Because it is absolutely not the case, not for her. She blames herself. Fortunately Gilead did not put him on that f**king wall to punish him. Because she would never have recovered.

June had many very difficult chat with Luke. He deserved to know the truth. She wanted to be honest. He does not understand and thinks she suffers a sort of Stockholm syndrome. Even a psychologist could not convince him of the contrary.

A day, while she prepares Nichole for a nap, she receives a phone call. Mark needs to see her for a private meeting: Good news, Nick could be at Toronto soon.

Officially he will there to represent Gilead and to prove his allegiance to his country. Unoffically, he will be there to collaborate and to bring some informations to Tuello. But there is a problem, he could be there with others Commanders.

Alone or not, he will stay at the Fairmont Royal York hotel but he will have two rooms on two differents storeys. The first room will be a suite, the official room for the Commander he is. The second room will be secret, where he will have to take a private elevator to access it. Where the cameras in the storey will be all off.

Nick's schedule will be busy, he will have to juggle between his obligations (to visit Gilead Information Center, to lunch with politicians …) and his duties (as a spy).

After a few days of negotiation, he finally arrives with only two guardians: Sean and Kyle. They work for The Eyes. But above all and luckily they are trustworthy men.

Nick's days are full and exhausting. He is also dying to contact June, to hear her voice and to see their daughter: Nichole. But he must be very careful for their safety. He is aware that he might not see them although he is in Canada.

For his fourth day at Toronto, Nick meets Mark for the second time but the latter quickly uses the pretext of an urgent meeting to shorten the working time.

4:45 PM. Ready to leave his unofficial room someone knocks at the door. Nick opens and is pleasantly surprised: Hi! June is there with a bag. She is all smile and hands him a piece of paper: Please read and sign. He raises an eyebrow.

Dear Mister Williams, I am sorry to inform you that I will be not able to make it to the ball tonight. I have a terrible headache. I hope to be able to meet you before I return to Gilead. With my best regards. Commandant Nick Blaine.

June gives the signed note and a tip to the butler. She looks to Nick, puts on the door the sign “Do not disturb”, enters in the room and locks the door. While absolutely not taking her eyes off him, she takes off her coat, her dress and her sneakers. Where is Nichole?, Nick whispers. With her godmother. He nods.

As their first time, he waits and holds his breath. With a suspender belt, she is absolutely and terribly sexy. June approaches to him, she looks at him amused and lowers his suspenders, undoes the buttons of his shirt before to continue with his pant. Nick looks at her, he worships her. She approaches closer and kisses him.

🙈 Rated X.🙈 I deliberately give free rein to your imagination. If anyone is inspired to write the scene, it is welcome.

7:25 PM. Nick looks at the clock before returning his attention to his sweetheart who is both satisfied and drowsy. He savors this precious moment where he finds refuge in the arms of the woman he loves. He then allows himself a little rest.

Twenty minutes later June wakes up, stands up and goes to the bathroom. Back to the bed, she looks at Nick who is sleeping. She smiles seeing his curls. He looks so peaceful but older than his age. As long as Gilead will exist, things will not be easy.

June stares into space. She thinks to Hannah, she can never resolve to leave her baby in this shitty place. If only all this did not exist. If only Gilead could burn.

- Everything is ok?, Nick asks. - I want to be your wife … I mean legally. I want to take Hannah and Nichole to Hawaii. Swim in the beach with you. Drink cocktails while watching the girls play together. I do not want to wait any longer. I want us to be able to go home together right now! I do not want us to be separated anymore. I am so tired of this shit.

- I know, he answers before to take her in his arms. I know.

- I would like another baby, June says shyly. Nick looks at her surprised. Please do not answer. Because I know how it is completely ridiculous, she murmurs. - It just I did not expect that, Nick answers. And no it is not ridiculous, it is just …

He stops. They both know why they can not and remain silent.

Few minutes later, June looks at him, stands up and comes back with her bag:

- Oh I forgot! I bright you some surprises ... I bring you some Nichole’s pictures ...

- Our daughter is beautiful, Nick smiles. She is so lovable. - And like her dada she hates tuna, June reveals laughting. - Really? - Yes she totally hates that. - She is a whole different person. She is growing up so fast.

- Look this one. Nichole plays with a little boy and a little girl. - Who is this boy?, Nick asks teasingly and raising an eyebrow. - Nick, June replies laughing. His name is Christopher and he is three months younger than our daughter. This is his twin sister: Addison. They moved to Europe.

- Nichole asks for a puppy. June looks at him. What do you think? - If it is not too much for you, I am fine with the idea. - Are there any allergies in your family? - Not that I know ... Nick smiles but thinks that he misses her so much.

- Oh look at these, we visited a farm. She loved horses, chickens, rabbits, cows but was scare by pigs. And these one, it was at the carousel, we were with Rita. - How is she? - Rita? She is fine. She baked some cookies for you. She hands him a metal box.

- Thanks so much for all of this, that is adorable. Please say thanks to Rita for me. - I promise. June puts the photos on the bedside table where there is a small cactus. - Would you like something to eat?, Nick asks. - I am not hungry. Not for food. She eyes at him suggestively.

(A cactus is a symbol of warmth and unconditional, enduring love).

4:55 AM. The hotel phone rings once and then twice a minute later. It is a code to tell to June that she has ten minutes to get ready, to say goodbye and to leave.

The two quickly get dressed and Nick takes June's hands:

- Keep Nichole safe. Keep yourself safe. Promise me. - I promise you ... I will. - Tell Nichole that I love and I miss her. I think about her all the time. - I will ... Please take care of you too. I do not want to lose you. - I promise you.

He pulls her into his arms and he kisses her.

- I love you, Nick caresses June's cheek. - I love you too, she answers by kissing him in return.

This goodbye is heartbreaking for both. They kiss a last time and she leaves.

Source Pictures: Screenshots S2E11 (by me) + Elisabeth Moss Instagram

#the handmaid's tale #osblaine #june osborne #nick blaine #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 15, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Today’s news can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, a thank-you.

Exactly two years ago today, after about a six-week hiatus during the summer, I wrote a Facebook post that started: “Many thanks to all of you who have reached out to see if I'm okay. I am, indeed (aside from having been on the losing end of an encounter with a yellow jacket this afternoon!). I've been moving, setting up house, and finishing the new book. Am back and ready to write, but now everything seems like such a dumpster fire it's very hard to know where to start. So how about a general overview of how things at the White House look to me, today....”

I went on to explain that the chair of the House Intelligence Committee, Representative Adam Schiff (D-CA), had written a letter to then–acting Director of National Intelligence, Joseph Maguire, on Friday, September 13, telling Maguire he knew that a whistleblower had filed a complaint with the inspector general of the intelligence community, who had deemed the complaint “credible” and "urgent.” This meant that the complaint was supposed to be sent on to the House Intelligence Committee. But, rather than sending it to the House as the law required, Maguire had withheld it. Schiff’s letter told Maguire that he knew about the complaint and that Maguire had better hand it over. Schiff speculated that Maguire was covering up evidence of crimes by the president or his closest advisors.

Readers swamped me with questions. So I wrote another post answering them and explaining the news, which began breaking at a breathtaking pace.

And so, these Letters from an American were born.

In the two years since then, we have lived through the Ukraine scandal—the secret behind the whistleblower complaint in Schiff’s letter—which revealed that then-president Trump was secretly running his own foreign policy team to strong-arm Ukraine into helping the president’s reelection campaign.

We lived through the abrupt withdrawal of U.S. troops from northern Syria in early October 2019, leaving our former Kurdish allies to be murdered by Turkish troops. ISIS freed compatriots from jails and launched new attacks, and Russian troops moved into the positions we had held in the region.

We lived through the impeachment hearings, the trial of former president Trump for abuse of power and obstruction of Congress, then the president’s acquittal on those charges and his subsequent purge of career government officials and their replacement with Trump loyalists.

Then, on February 7, just two days after Senate Republicans acquitted him, Trump picked up the phone and called veteran journalist Bob Woodward to tell him there was a deadly new virus spreading around the world. It was airborne, he explained, and was five times “more deadly than even your strenuous flus.” “This is deadly stuff,” he said. He would not share that information with other Americans, though, continuing to play down the virus in hopes of protecting the economy.

The pandemic, more than 660,000 of us—1 American in 500—have not lived through.

We have, though, lived through the attempts of the former president to rig the 2020 election, the determination of American voters to make their voices heard, the Black Lives Matter protests after the murder of George Floyd, the election of Democrat Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris, and the subsequent refusal of Trump and his loyalists to accept Biden’s win.

And we have lived through the unthinkable: an attack on the U.S. Capitol by a mob determined to overrule the results of an election and install their own candidate in the White House. For the first time in our history, the peaceful transfer of power was broken.

Rather than disappearing after the inauguration of President Biden, the reactionary authoritarianism of the former president’s supporters has grown stronger. Senate Republicans acquitted Trump for a second time in his second impeachment trial-- this time for incitement of insurrection-- and in Republican-dominated states across the country, legislatures have passed laws to suppress Democratic voting and to put the counting of votes into partisan hands.

We have seen the attempts of Biden and the Democratic-controlled Congress to move America past this dark moment by making coronavirus vaccines widely available and passing the American Rescue Plan to rebuild the economy. We have watched the U.S. withdraw from the longest war in our history, losing 13 military personnel in the exit from Afghanistan that brought out more than 130,000 evacuees.

And we are, today, watching the fight over the survival of our democracy.

If you are tired, you have earned the right to be.

And yet, you are still here, reading.

I write these letters because I love America. I am staunchly committed to the principle of human self-determination for people of all races, genders, abilities, and ethnicities, and I believe that American democracy could be the form of government that comes closest to bringing that principle to reality. And I know that achieving that equality depends on a government shaped by fact-based debate rather than by extremist ideology and false narratives.

And so I write.

But I have come to understand that I am simply the translator for the sentiments shared by hundreds of thousands of people who are finding each other and giving voice to the principles of democracy. Your steadfast interest, curiosity, critical thinking, and especially your kindness—to me and to one another—illustrates that we have not only the power, but also the passion, to reinvent our nation.

To those who read these letters, send tips, proofread, criticize, comment, argue, worry, cheer, award medals (!), and support me and one another: I thank you all for taking me along on this wild, unexpected, exhausting, and exhilarating journey.

Notes:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/interactive/2021/1-in-500-covid-deaths/

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#history #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #American Democracy #human rights #voting rights

[dread-on-arrival]

Richard Ramirez - The Night Stalker: Family Background

Serial Killer Masterlist 

Childhood Part 1 

Word Count: 3505

Richard Ramirez, the man who left at least thirteen dead, paralysing the city of Los Angeles throughout the summer of 1985. His name alone makes people prickle with fear as they remember the acts of horror he committed on children and adults alike. Yet he still fascinates people; the Night Stalker Case was what got me interested in true crime and how the human brain can be so drastically changed by mental and physical events. I have spent countless hours reading up on his crimes, trial, personality, drifter lifestyle and the tragic childhood that played a huge role in creating the monster we all know and fear. I collect this information I have read many articles on Richard Ramirez and watched videos discussing his life. My main source of information was ‘The Life and Crimes of Richard Ramirez The Night Stalker’ by Philip Carlo, I highly recommend. Georgia Marie’s video also gave a slightly summarised version of Ramirez’s life so watch that here if you are interested.

 Compared to the other detailed multiple part series I am doing for the Serial Killers, this one is going to be exceptionally long simply because I have copious amounts of information about Richard. The other Serial Killers I cover will be very detailed as well don’t worry I just simply have so much I want to share about him. We will start with the background of his family, the next part will cover his childhood however I cannot confirm when it will be out but I am writing it from now. Anyway, lets get into the background of the Ramirez family. 

With three older brothers and an older sister, Richard Ramirez - Richie as the family fondly remembers him - was the youngest of five to Julian Tapia Ramirez and Mercedes Ramirez. 

Julian Ramirez was born in the rough city of Camargo in Mexico, February 16th 1927. He was the second oldest of eight children who were raised on a poor farm. He was large, with the power to match it, high well-defined cheekbones and jet-black hair making him a considerably attractive man. His features were often characteristics of the Ramirez men. 

Jose Ramirez, his father, was a stern man who rarely showed any signs of joy. Jose had inherited his dark eyes and tight, firm lips from his father, Inacia, but also had inherited his Father’s horrible temper. Julian’s mother, Roberta, had died when he was only 12 leaving a lot of the responsibility to raise the large family on him since he was the oldest boy. 

Corporal punishment was something Jose and Inacia firmly believed in, if any of the eight children did not keep up with expectations they were quick to receive a severe beating. It was a normal occurrence for fathers to beat their children in Mexico - to teach them respect and discipline - however the beatings from Julian’s father and grandfather often blurred the line between discipline and abuse. Inacia would beat Julian the most, tying him to a tree and whipping him with a rope causing Julian to became very withdrawn. He wouldn’t cry when he was beaten and would just wait until the older men’s anger was vented, he was beaten the most since he was the oldest.

At 14 Julian stood up for himself. He tore the belt from his father’s hands and said sternly, “You are not beating me anymore.” In Camargo a child could be executed for disobeying their father but nothing was done and from then on Julian was never beaten again. He never should have been beaten anyway, he was a good child and always did what he could to benefit his family. Julian never swore, smoked and rarely drank. He went to church every Sunday with his family and firmly believed in Jesus and the powers of Satan. He never got past the first grade in school as he was needed to work on the farm 24/7.

The city itself was small with no available electricity, railroad or even a phone so everyone knew of each other. Julian met his future wife, Mercedes, when they were 14. 

Mercedes Muñoz was part of another big family, one of seven children - four boys, three girls and was born in Rocky Ford, Colorado. They were another poor family but made the most of what they could. When America joined World War II Guadalupe, Mercedes mother, decided it would be best to leave the US for Camargo. She believed her sons should not be drafted for the war because their blood should not be spilt because of the fights between politicians. It was well known the government were corrupt (some to this day still are).  From the moment she arrived in Camargo she became friends with Julian’s sisters and that was how they were introduced. Mercedes was pretty, she was tall and thin, large doe-eyes, a broad forehead and her hands and fingers were long and finely tapered, ‘beautiful enough to have modelled’ - The Life and Crime of Richard Ramirez The NightStalker - Philip Carlo. 

Julian and Mercedes didn’t truly start to date until 19 when they would go for walks around Camargo’s only park and watch movies at Camargo’s only cinema.

Once the war was over 1946, Nacho - Mercedes’ brother - had moved to the town of Juarez to work in a post office, Juarez was the border town beside El Paso, Texas. There was little work in Camargo due to its size so to get work you would have to move. Luckily the Muñoz children were American citizens since they were born in the United States and they could legally travel to El Paso for work so Guadalupe made the decision to move which meant Mercedes herself would have to go too. Her relationship with Julian would have to be put behind her for the time being. 

After moving to Juarez in the August of 1947, any body old enough to get a job was put to work. Juarez was a very violent place and anything could be bought for not much money at all: drugs, stolen American goods, prostitutes, even sex with minors. These horrific things are common in many border towns. Mercedes found the place disgusting and horrifying, she was horrified and scared of the crimes committed all around her. 

But something she looked forward to was writing to Julian, although he struggled with writing he got his sister to teach him how. The letters may have been short but they were full of love; telling her how much he missed her and how lonely it had become without her. She shared the same sentiment. 

Not long after Mercedes left Julian got drafted, he was taught to shoot and use all kind of weapons. He was never deployed because he contracted scarlet fever. He was discharged and sent back to Camarge - thin and sick his sister had to help him get back to good health. He was determined to get to Mercedes in Juarez and wrote to her, asking to marry her. She was full of joy and said yes but her mother did not want the marriage to take place, going as far to forbade it. As much as Julian was hardworking she judged him on the fact that he had no education nor skills, she felt her Mercedes deserved far better. She wasn’t the only one to dislike this marriage, the Ramirez’s thought Mercedes’ family acted as though they were more important then everyone else. 

Yet the couple were determined, both rarely defied their own families however the love they shared for one another was too strong and with the little possessions he had, Julian arrived in Juarez on the 3rd of August 1948 and they married on the 9th six days later in the Juarez City Hall in front of a few friends. They had no honeymoon due to lack of money. They were only 19. 

They agreed that they would make sure their own children would have everything that they didn’t as children, a happy life with financial security and in Julian’s case, no beatings. 

Mercedes continued her work as a housekeeper in El Paso, they could live in the States since she had been born there. She wanted to move there because the crime in Juarez was too much for her. Julian was content in Mexico but he knew how much his wife disliked the city so he applied for US citizenship. They had both heard of the ‘American Dream’ and she wanted her children to be born in the US so they could live out this dream. Finally Julian reluctantly accepted and they moved into a small one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in El Paso in Fourth and Canal. 

Also during this time Guadalupe began to warm to Julian, she realised how hardworking he was and how much he loved her daughter. They started going for meals at Guadalupe - they didn’t live far from her in Juarez.

Within months Mercedes was pregnant with their first son, Ruben. At the time - unknown to the people of El Paso - the U.S government had been testing nuclear weapons in the nearby city of Los Alamos, New Mexico. It wasn’t known about the effects of Nuclear fallout and the wind more often then not carried the fallout over Juarez and El Paso, polluting the water, milk and Cattle. Between 1950 and 1954 the testing was most frequent, correlating with the high rate of birth defects in babies, causing physical issues and mental issues alike. It became known what was causing this but people were hesitant to speak out about it to the government - after all the Nuclear bomb had won them the war. 

Ruben was born without much difficultly however he was born with large lumps up his back, neck and head and he was incredibly sick. At the time the doctor didn’t understand but he thought the bomb tests definitely had something to do with it. Ruben got very ill and it was believed he wouldn’t make it yet after a few weeks the lumps began to disappear and got better. The family owed this to a divine intervention. Ruben was allowed to go home and Julian would often take him for long walks down the roads of El Paso, telling him stories and smiling joyously constantly. 

Just two months later, Mercedes was pregnant again. She wanted a girl but most of all she wanted a healthy baby and for the atomic bomb tests to stop, for all the evil to go away from her little family. This pregnancy was also easy, Joseph was born (named after Mercedes’ favourite brother). He was healthy, both Julian and Mercedes’ thanked God. Two sons in a row was a good omen according to Guadalupe and Julian considered himself a very lucky man. 

At six months old Joseph started to cry much more frequently. As though he was in serious pain. His parents tried everything to calm the baby but nothing would work. He was taken to the El Paso clinic, neither could they find the problem so they sent him back home. The crying only became more extreme as each day passed. The second time he was taken to a clinic he was nearly 1 year old. After an examination the doctor announced that poor Joseph’s bones were not growing correctly and they never would. He didn’t quite understand why and sent them to a specialist who told them that Joseph had a disease called Collier which caused the bones to curve as they grew. This was also a direct result of the nuclear testing nearby - still nobody wanted to shame to war winning bomb though. Dr. Perry Rogers told the Ramirezes that he would cut away at the curved part of the bone and would construct a metal heal that would allow Joseph to somewhat walk right. But he warned them that he would require many more operations because the bones would continue to grow incorrectly. There was no proper cure. Any money they could spare was handed over to Dr. Rogers to pay for the operations, they never asked any other families for help so they simply worked longer and harder. Joseph had his first surgery at 17 months old and it helped briefly but he began crying in pain again not long after. The family often went to the Sacred Heart Church on Oregon street to pray for Joseph’s pain and disease to go away. 

A while later Julian became a construction worker in El Paso even though he didn’t have the proper papers. He needed the money though, this job payed far better then the factory job he previously worked in. 

In the year of 1952 immigration border guards payed Julian a visit at the construction site to ask for his papers. He told them he didn’t have them but that his wife was an American citizen so he could stay but they told him that he needed papers and was to be deported immediately. After some persuasion he was allowed to go and tell his wife what was going to happen however once at the apartment the guards said that whole family was going to be deported. Their landlord came to their defence,  he agreed that they were American citizens and that they should stay. No protests worked, at 3pm the little family and all their belongings were dumped on a corner on the Mexican side of the Sante Fe bridge. 

Julain told Mercedes to take herself and the children to her mother’s house a mile away, he would stay and fight off any thieves who attempted to take their belongings. On a good weekend in Juarez there was twenty murders. Mercedes began the short but treacherous walk to her mother’s, holding Ruben by the hand and a crying Joseph in her arms. 

She reached Guadalupe’s without an incident and her two brothers - Joseph and Manuel - took a neighbours truck to move the family’s possessions to the house. It took two trips. 

Once settled, Julian went out looking for work. He met a friend who was working as a policeman. His friend took him to the Commandante of the Juarez police. Julian said he didn’t know much about being a policeman but the Commandante didn’t mind and thought he looked right to be a policeman. Since he was experienced with guns due to his time in the military, he was put in charge of teaching the Juarez police to maintain and shoot firearms properly. But Mercedes wasn’t overly happily. Mexico was like South America, police officers were often killed if they got in the way.

Julian Ramirez in 1951 after becoming a police officer - From Philip Carlo’s personal collection of photos.

Mercedes had their third son Robert, he presented no problems. 

Finally Julian’s American Citizenship papers were approved and with the good of his sons in mind he quit his job and the family moved back to El Paso in early 1954. They got a small apartment in the second ward at Seventh and Canal. Julian got a job at the Santa Fe railroad, laying track.  It was hard work and he was often out of town for days but the wages were good. He knew he had made the right decision for his wife and children. 

The Ramirez apartment - From Philip Carlo’s personal collection of photos.

Mercedes got a job at a famous boot-maker in Texas called Tony Lama. Her wages were also much better and she had managed to find a Mexican women who could care for her sons while she was out working, she wanted someone good to look after them since she was nervous to leave them for too long. 

She would mix pigments and chemicals for the boots colours to paint the boots and treat them with fixatives so the colour would last. Similar to the Nuclear tests, these chemicals were often toxic and required ventilation when being used but the people working with them were unaware at the time. She spent seven hours a day, five days a week exposed to these toxic chemicals and quickly developed dizzy spells meaning she would have to sit down for periods of time to recover. 

Six months after being employed she was pregnant again, Julian was overjoyed as this was the fourth pregnancy in fours year and he felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally one of Mercedes’ dreams became true. She had a healthy little girl who she named Ruth, a little girl to help her out in a house full of boys. Julian was happy as well, he knew Ruth would always have three older brothers to keep her out of harms way.

Every weekend Julian would dress up and go and visit his police friends in Juarez, occasionally bringing along his sons and talk to them in Spanish. He wanted them to learn English and do well in American but he also did not want them to forget about their heritage. His sister moved to El Paso the same year, bring her son Miguel who was the same age as Ruben, the two became close friends the moment they met. 

Mercedes’ sister had also moved to El Paso and got employed at Tony Lama, she developed the same dizzy spells and they both began to feel unwell on weekends. After a discussion they began to question whether maybe they were addicted to the chemicals they worked with and were experiencing some form of withdrawal yet they didn’t seek any medical attention. 

When Ruben started school he was put into a class designed to help teach English. Before long he could say sentences in English and Julian encourage him to speak English with his friends and grandmother Guadalupe. Joseph started school not long after and was wearing the special shoes he had been given in Juarez and they needed to be adjusted often as he grew but he never complained. He always walked with his brother to school but had to break often as the shoes weighed quite a lot. His parents were worried about how the other kids would treat him but his brothers were always there to defend him. 

Robert started school and he learned English as well. The first time Julian heard his sons speaking English to each other he was happy but he couldn’t help feeling a little down as he struggled to learn the language and couldn’t speak with them. He never was required to learn English because most of the men he worked with spoke Spanish anyway. 

At school Joseph had started being taunted about his disadvantages, he took the insults to heart and became very shy and fearful. Ruben however, had inherited the fierce Ramirez temperament and would chase off the children who teased Joseph. Their father did not often lose his temper, he was a very  easygoing and friendly man but when he did he would start beating any object near him and throwing things. Another trait of the Ramirez family was that they had very large feet and hands, a punch from one of the Ramirez men would cause a lot of damage.  

Mercedes - much to her dismay - realised that all of her children had the explosively violent temper of the Ramirezes. Ruth herself would break and throw things if her anger got the better of her. ‘”I’d just black out when I got mad,” she’d say years later. “I couldn’t control the anger. There would just, like, be an explosion inside of me, and I’d go off.” Her older brothers gave her a wide berth when she “went of”.’ - The Life and Crimes of Richard Ramirez The NightStalker - Philip Carlo.

Mercedes’ fifth and final pregnancy was the most painful and difficult. She even had to go to a specialist to help with the discomfort who told her the chemicals she had been breathing in at her job was going to cause a miscarriage so she needed a range of injections to keep the baby. She finally quit her job during her fifth month of pregnancy. This final pregnancy surprised Julian as it had been four years since the birth of their daughter. Guadalupe recalled praying a lot for her daughter and the unborn baby during the pregnancy, she could see this child was sapping the life-force from her daughter. 

At 2:07am on February 29th 1960, Ricardo Leyva Muñoz Ramírez was born. His father and all his siblings arrived at the hospital to see the new baby. Ruth was ecstatic to have a baby brother and from the first day he came home she was all over him. 

He was her little precious, dark-eyed, dark-haired doll come to life. Ruben, Joseph and Robert didn’t pay one-tenth the attention to Richie that Ruth did. - The Life and Crimes of Richard Ramirez The NightStalker - Philip Carlo.  

If you think I have any facts wrong be sure to message me and I’ll correct what I can. The next part I am covering will be his childhood.

#richard ramirez #night stalker #the night stalker #serial killer #serial killers #murder #murders #murderer #murderers #crime #crimes #true crime #true crimes #criminal #criminals #solved case #solved cases #pyschology #pyscho #evil #satan #horror #true horror #dark #the screen door intruder #valley intruder #ted bundy #the walk in killer #jack the ripper #john wayne gacy

[jacquiesims]

Viper Canyon - Chapter Eight

“’In light of how much Viper Canyon has grown in just the past year or two, I think it’s best if we elect a new sheriff as soon as possible. Are we all in agreement?’”

November 1852

Slowly but surely, the schoolhouse was being filled by the citizens of Viper Canyon arriving from their homes. Along with them, the heavy presence of unease and disquiet filled the air, and there was little small talk amongst the people as they sat down at the students’ desks in wait of the first ever town meeting.

Winnie wouldn’t have come to the meeting at all if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only person with a key to the school. As its sole caretaker, she stood in the back, wishing she were at home with Mamma and Bea. 

The meeting had been called to discuss the bank robbery – even the mere thought of outlaws anywhere in the area made her stomach turn. Most of the women, it would seem, shared the same sentiment as Winnie – or there were still things to be looked after at home, like children and housework.

Timothy Putnam, proprietor of the Sidewinder Saloon, was chosen to lead the meeting. He’d always been regarded as one of two de facto leaders of the town alongside Mr. Monroe. 

He stood at the front of the room where Winnie usually taught her lessons and cleared his throat. The room immediately turned and watched him carefully with baited breath. 

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, we’ve had to call a town meeting of sorts to discuss the events that took place at the bank this past Saturday.”

“Usually this sort of thing would be taken care of by a lawman. But seeing as our previous sheriff, Mr. Daniels, passed during the bout of flu a few years back, we have no man of the law left. Unfortunately he had no successor and at the time there was no one available to take his place, so the jail has been empty ever since. ” 

Winnie had seen the empty jail on Main Street and wondered why there was no sheriff or deputy to look after it. Naively, she figured it was because there was no need for one in such a peaceful town. Her stomach twisted.

Winnie turned over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. 

Quickly, with only the sound of his heavy boots against the floor boards giving him away, Elijah slid into the back of the room. He stood there in the corner and waited for Putnam to continue.

“In light of how much Viper Canyon has grown in just the past year or two, I think it’s best if we elect a new sheriff as soon as possible. Are we all in agreement?” 

There were several quiet responses, all positive, and a great nodding of heads as the people all looked between each other and then back to Putnam. 

“And what do you think, Mr. Yates? It was your bank that those outlaws robbed, after all…”

Mr. Yates was a man of advanced age, with a nearly bald head and shaking white hands dotted with brown spots. He was gentle and sweet and generally regarded as a saint, and his voice passed through his lips like a whisper of wind. 

“A new sheriff would be for the best,” he nodded decisively. “Those men should be hanged for what they did to our poor John. May his soul rest in peace.” 

The crowd murmured words of condolence and Mr. Yates settled back into his seat without another word. At his side, his son, Percival, gave him a tender look.

“I agree wholeheartedly that we should elect a new lawman,” Mr. Monroe spoke up. “Seeing as we have all of these children and families in town now. But one does have to wonder how he would be paid.” 

Winnie pondered quietly in her corner. She was lucky enough to be paid her wages directly from the parents, seeing as there was no formal government in Viper Canyon to collect taxes to then divvy up between public servants – or nearby schoolboard to see to her salary. If there was a sheriff to be elected, that meant everyone would be responsible for ensuring he got his pay, and it was unrealistic to have each citizen in town come by to the jail to drop off his paycheck bit by bit. The next step would obviously be taxing the people, but…the idea of creating an entire local government seemed daunting. 

“Excellent point, Mr. Monroe,” Putnam agreed. “We’ve covered Miss Hawkins’s salary quite easily by having the parents pay for their children's schooling directly, but…there have been a few flaws in that method.”

“Flaws?” Robert Campbell, the tailor, asked from his chair. “How do you mean, Mr. Putnam?”

“Consider if a child wanted to go to school but their parents couldn’t afford Miss Hawkins’s wages outright. If we were to set up a fair tax system, where everyone pays a small bit towards the school, then every child could afford to attend. Isn’t that right, Miss Hawkins?” 

Putnam looked towards the back of the room where Winnie stood. She squirmed as every pair of eyes turned to look at her. 

“Yes.” She cleared her throat, not having expected to speak. “Exactly, Mr. Putnam. Every child should be able to go to school and learn, regardless of how much or how little their parents may make.”

“Very civilized, very good,” Mr. Monroe nodded. “It’s about time we started doing things the right way around here!” 

Like a flock of birds stopped on the street, everyone’s heads bobbed up and down, making small, short sounds of approval.

“Well then, I believe we’ve come to the consensus that we should move forward with establishing some form of government for the town. But there’s still an incredibly urgent matter at hand – what are we going to do about a sheriff?”

“I say we nominate one as soon as possible, straight away.” Mr. Monroe was deathly serious. “Preferably right now at this very meeting.” 

“Well, that might be a bit soon, don’t you think?” 

Robert Campbell was already a meek man, and he shrank at the thought of possibly being nominated for sheriff. 

“There are vicious killers on the loose!” Mr. Monroe cried. “Those wicked criminals murdered poor John in cold blood. We have no time to spare!”

“Yes, I do have to agree with Mr. Monroe,” Putnam said. “Who knows when the outlaws will strike again? Not only was poor John Williams viciously killed, but they nearly robbed our entire town blind.”

Mr. Yates shakily came to his feet. “Don’t worry, your money was insured. I shall see to it this is all sorted out as quickly as possible.” 

Percival helped his father sit back down with a sheepish look at the crowd over his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Mr. Yates. My point is, who knows what they’ll do next? Their first crime here was so heinous…perhaps without a lawman, they’ll think they can get away with much more. It’s imperative we move this process along as quickly as possible.”

Elijah shifted uncomfortably in the corner. Winnie cast a look at him, having not seen him since he abruptly left town nearly a year ago. He was the same as ever – maybe a bit older looking, more tired. He caught her staring and Winnie backed down from his green eyes, pretending to stare at some of her students’ assignments pinned to the wall.

“So, are we going to nominate anyone to vote on? All of the men in town are here. It should be a fair vote.” 

“Yes, let’s begin nominations. But keep in mind the men that can’t make the commitment – men with families and large businesses to run.” 

That excluded more than half of the room. Even Joseph Ebey couldn’t be nominated, seeing as his large farm needed looking after and his wife was due to have their first child any day now. 

Clarence Monroe was a bachelor and the successor of his father – but Winnie figured no one in their right mind would elect such a soft and awkward man into an important position like that of the sheriff.

“The obvious choice here is our Elijah McLain,” Mr. Monroe called loudly. 

He looked up from beneath the brim of his hat. “Sir?” 

“You’re strong, reliable, you have a good head on your shoulders…and all that time hunting and trapping for the Hudson Bay Company made you an incredible shot – I’ve seen it with my own eyes!” 

More positive sounds came from the crowd.

“What do you say, Elijah? Do you accept your nomination for Viper Canyon Sheriff?” 

He thought about it for only a few moments before taking a deep breath. “Yes, sir. Sounds all right to me.”

“Well, then. Our first nomination goes to Elijah McLain. Does anyone else have anyone in mind?” 

Winnie thought she could hear the crickets chirping outside. 

“Anyone?” 

“Elijah’s perfect for the job,” Mr. Monroe reiterated. “I’d trust him with my life.”

“Is there anyone who disagrees? Who thinks Elijah wouldn’t be a good fit for Sheriff?” 

Silence. 

“Well, then. By order of acclimation, Elijah McLain is now the newest sheriff of Viper Canyon. Congratulations!”

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Nine Coming Soon

(These group scenes take me so long...such a short chapter that took me forever! I hope you guys like the story, things are finally falling into place for the main plot to begin :) let me know what you thought and thank you for reading as always <3) 

#ts2 #sims 2 #ts2 story #viper canyon #viper canyon story #viper canyon: chapter eight