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chrono-vi · 2 years

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3 - Sundered

Content Warning: Violence, Swearing

Sidenote! Some of these characters speak languages I don’t speak, and I’m apologizing now if anything is inaccurate--

“It was always like a walk of shame. To make the trek back to the resting place of her mother, Betty felt like her whole life was wasted. As a spiritual woman, she was heartbroken upon realizing she’d never seen her mother’s ghost - and to visit her resting place only made her that much more upset. Had she done something wrong?”

** melanie and trucidar belong to @namnori143

** chad and virgil belong to @bitchasstrashcan

She parked her car at the cemetery, walking past the large steel gates. The path wasn’t long to where Imelda Garcia lay, but today it was heavily different.

The sight of red and blue flashed across Betty’s vision. Parked police cars swallowed up the view of her mother’s plot. Adrenaline rushed through her body; she took into a sprint to see what had happened.

“Excuse me!” She called, racing up to the cautionary yellow ribbons. “Hey, what’s going on here?!”

“Ma’am, please stay back, this is a crime scene,” the policeman responded, hand out to stop her from getting closer.

“This is my mother’s grave, I have a right to know-!” But as she turned her gaze to gesture to it, she realized what was happening.

The hole in the Earth was just that. A hole. No longer a mound of dirt, now a cavernous, gaping wound in the ground. And it was directly below her own mother’s grave marker. Her body felt cold, sparkling with numbness. What happened?

“Well, if that’s the case,” the man stepped aside slightly. The team behind him was quickly exhuming what was left, searching for clues, “do you have any idea what may have happened here?”

“I…” Betty felt her throat go dry. “...I was just here a month ago. She was still there, as far as I knew.”

“A month? I see. It seems someone had been here just overnight, so I doubt you would’ve seen anything that long ago.” He remarked, thoughtful. “But if you remember anyone else who may have been lingering nearby, possibly planning this? Please, let us know.”

“I will. Is…” She was afraid to ask. “...is my mother still in there?”

“Her body is gone. As well as a few of the things she was buried with.” He turned back to his team. “What’s missing, Jones?”

“It says here she was buried with, originally, her journal recounting, and a few charms and artifacts. Only that journal’s entirely missing. Not sure the value of it to a graverobber, but clearly it’s been stolen,” the man called Jones responded with a shrug, standing from his crouched position by the grave, “as well as a small lockbox that had no key attached. I don’t know if there may have been a key on her person, which may provide a cause to steal her body as well. Though, it’s unclear why they wouldn’t just look for it while she was here, but that's not my call.” He dusted off his hands as he spoke, nonchalant in his explanation.

“A key?” Betty put her hand on her chest. She had been given a small key before her mother passed away. Was this key meant for the lockbox her mother was buried with? And if so, how was she supposed to retrieve it? Was this…?

“Heard anything about one? Maybe she left it somewhere in her will?” Jones queried. Betty shook her head.

“Not that I recall. I’ll have to check her old belongings - we still have some of it in a storage container my father owns.” She responded gently. If she told them she had the key, they may suspect her of tampering with her own mother. And that, would be too much.

“Damn.” He shook his head. “Well, just stay safe. We don’t know if they might be looking for it, so you may need to watch your back. Make sure your father knows too; we don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jones. My mother was… is, very important to me. And I want to see justice brought to her.”

She said her goodbyes to the policemen, and even took down the number of the detective working on the case. Heading back home in silence, the paranormal investigator felt a sense of sheer terror overwhelm her.

Was it the work of her mother? Was she walking the Fold, undead and searching for her daughter? Betty quickly shook the thoughts from her head. That would be ridiculous. Her mother wouldn’t do something so crazy as to raise herself from literal death. She knew better than that!

But even still, for someone to rob her grave and only take things of significance to her life? That seems unlikely. Unless it was someone she knew well…?

---

She entered the apartment. Her keyring clicked and jingled with the various protective charms she wore at all times, returning quickly to her side by the assistance of a bungee cable. She was immediately greeted by the smell of burning incense and alcohol; not an unusual mix of smell.

“Hey guys,” she called into the living room, regarding her three roommates, “you’ll never guess what happened today.”

“Did sthomeone die at the cthemetary?” Melanie lisped out, not looking up from the Nintendo Switch playing on the large TV before her. A beer bottle sat next to her on her side table, telling Betty that she was taking a needed relaxation day from work.

“Oh dude, that’d be sick! Do you think you’d get a free spot out there?” Chad chimed in, taking another swig of his own beer. “I totally know where I’m going when I kick it now.”

“I really doubt they’d just give you one, I think your family would still have to buy it,” Virgil shook his head, skeptical, “I say die in a church. That’d be a free ticket to a gravesite.”

“You guys are freaks.” Betty chuckled, rolling her eyes. “But no, you’re all wrong.”

She caught their attention, watching the three lean in to hear her tale of the day.

“Stho, what really happened, Betty?”

“Yeah, you look kinda spooked.”

“Did you see something out there..? Was there a ghost?”

“...Someone robbed my mother’s grave last night. Her body and some of her stuff is missing.” Betty smiled, despite the stress evident on her face. The merriment of her friends completely melted away; Betty’s mother was incredibly important to her, so much so that even Chad’s “yo mama” jokes could land him in the hospital if he wasn’t careful.

Melanie scoffed in disbelief, “well, I wasth gonna ask if you wanted to play with usth, but… you should probably take it easthy right now.”

“Damn, her whole ass body? That’s fucked up--” Chad began, but Virgil quickly nudged him in case he was gonna say something stupid.

“We’ll be here if you want to talk about it, Betty.” The dark-haired man smiled sheepishly at her. “But Melanie’s right, you should probably just go relax. That’s… a lot to take in, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Thanks, guys.” Betty nodded slowly, before she slowly made her way to her safe space. Her room down the hall.

---

“Shit,” Melanie whispered as soon as Betty was out of range, “her whole body wasth sthtolen?”

“That’s really fucked up,” Chad winced, “she’s probably wrinkly and dusty and shit. Why the hell would someone take a whole dead body?”

“Unless she’s like, undead and walking the earth?!” Virgil exclaimed, though the other two glared at him. “What? It’s totally possible! She said that some of her personal stuff was missing too, maybe she’s not sure she’s dead!”

“Not helping.” Melanie scolded him.

---

Betty leaned against the door to her bedroom, listening in to their conversation. A quiet sadness lingered here, in her room, for the many nights that the woman had given up to thinking about her mother’s silence on the other side. And now, she stood alone again, wondering what could’ve possibly happened to her entire deceased body. A new sorrow engulfed her.

She slowly sauntered her way into the room itself, pulling back her covers to lay on her bed--

“...Verga. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Those were the only words Betty could utter at what she saw beneath her sheets. She dropped the comforter where it was, staring down at the massive amount of graveyard dirt surrounding two objects she hadn’t seen since she was ten years old.

Her mother’s leatherbound journal, and a small lockbox. They were in her bed. They were in her bed, and no one knew why. No one had even known her mother was missing.

She took a step back, cautious and terrified. She quickly stared at her closet, the door closed. If someone was in here with her…!

Unsure why she was suddenly gripped by fear, Betty felt a twinge of something she’d forgotten. Helplessness. The veteran investigator was never afraid. Never for something relating to spirits, or the unknown. But this… this was personal. Whatever brought them here knew it would hurt her. And for something to know her so well?

That was truly terrifying.

“...Dios le da pan al que no tiene dientes,” she muttered under her breath, stepping towards the closet with a deep sorrow in her heart. The otherworld just exists to mock her, doesn't it?

She grabbed her blessed dagger on her dresser, knuckles white with the grip she had on it. An arm outstretched for the closet door, she swallowed her fear.

The sound of flipping paper paused her in her tracks. When it stopped, she glanced over her shoulder to see the journal open to a specific page. Though still skeptical of the closed closet, she inched back to the book to glance at the entry.

“I’ve left something vastly important in my lockbox. I know someday Betty will need him just as I have, and I have a feeling my time is over. They’re coming for me now. Not even he can save me.” The entry brought tears to Betty’s eyes. What was she talking about? “But he can protect her. He’ll be with her where I cannot. He’s stronger than I am.”

Betty pulled the necklace from her sweater, the key dangling from it.

“This… this is what you want, isn’t it?” She spoke to the empty air, holding tight to the metal object. “You want me to open this box. Whatever mom thought was important... YOU want it?”

No response came, but she could feel anticipation in the air. Something was desperate to get into this lockbox, and had been for a long time.

“Why now? Why are you after me now?” She insisted again, “Mother has been dead for years; why now are you coming to me with this!?”

The silence deafened her. She ripped the key from her neck, holding it up tauntingly. She wasn’t going to be bullied by some quiet specter!

“If you want it, come and get it!” She howled, reeling back and dangling it above her open mouth. She dropped it, swallowing it whole in an act of sheer defiance.

It was then that her room began to shake, horrific growling ringing through the once-silent area. Her mirror shattered, her window cracked, her bedframe splintered - the world around her suddenly became dyed red, walls being riddled with violent scratches.

“Qué cabrón,” she scoffed, finding the temper-tantrum amusing, “go ahead and throw a fit, you aren’t getting it back!”

Her words elicited a deeper grumble, her midsection suddenly constricted by an unseen force. She was thrown back against the wall, the harsh thud knocking her breath from her body. Bile threatened to rise into her throat and, with it, the key - but she refused to let it surface. She clamped her mouth shut, swallowing desperately as this hidden demon squeezed her harder and harder. Acid swirled with saliva, words tumbling through her brain. What can she do? What can she do?

Puppeteered by something she could barely fight, she watched her arm jerkily raise that long silver dagger. Her time was running out. Whatever wanted this box open was not afraid of taking drastic measures.

“Verga,” she coughed out, desperately wriggling against the control of the unholy beast, “let go of me!”

The shining metal of her blade reached her throat, dancing down towards her clavicle. The demon was to split her open - killing her for this meaningless little key she’s carried for years! It felt so stupid; so pointless of a death! To think she’d spent so long on her own, researching and surviving everything so far, only to die by something that was too afraid to confront her before?!

Her deep blue eyes welled with bitter tears, the futility of it all starting to billow in her chest. Could the others not hear her? Was the demon keeping her quiet? Would they find her bisected body and wonder why? Would they blame themselves?

She croaked, feeling that overwhelming helplessness had arose in her soul once more.

---

“Mama!”

She cried into her sheets, balling them up against her chest in an attempt to hide herself.

Her mother came running, quickly barging into her room, “Niña, what’s wrong? What happened?” She rushed to her daughter’s side, holding tightly to her.

“Mama, I saw a scary man!” Betty despaired, clinging to her just as tight. “He said he’d eat me alive! He said you would die, a-and you wouldn’t be able to stop him!” She wailed.

It didn’t occur to her then, but now she recalled it clearly.

Her mother tightened her grip and steeled her expression, staring into the darkness. She knew exactly what Betty was talking about. Imelda had been running from something this whole time…

“He won’t hurt you, mi amore; he can’t.” She told Betty. “You’re protected. He can’t hurt you.”

She never said anything about her own safety. Even after the funeral, not a month later, did Betty truly realize what that meant for her and her mother.

Something was closing in to kill Imelda Garcia. And it wanted Betty too.

---

“Mama!!!” Betty hadn’t realized the same word in her memory had slipped through her lips, a cry of an innocent girl echoing in the rumble of demonic snarling. It was like a trigger on a loaded gun - a flash of yellow blinded the woman, and the forces on her body dissolved into nothing.

She collapsed to her knees on the floor, the dagger clattering to the hardwood as she scooted herself back into a corner by her nightstand in fear. She held her breath and her legs tight; eyes locked on the room itself.

She felt a chill overtake the room, accompanied by a roar she could only describe as “cat-like” - an invisible battle knocked over her vases and knick-knacks, though she seldom felt concern for them in the moment.

Black splattered across one of the walls, and a yowl faded into the distance. Something had surrendered… but was it for the better?

“Você está bem, docinho?” A voice rang out gently, the source unknown. Despite the situation, it sounded so… sweet.

Slowly, she stood up from her hiding place, hands clutching her soured stomach. She swallowed again, wiping spit off her lips.

“I’m fine,” she responded, though hesitantly, “I’m fine.”

With her confirmation, he once again appeared to her. Tall and muscular, the demon she’d come to know finally stood again before her.

“You really pissed somebody off, hm?” He chuckled.

“Great timing as always, “uncle” Trucidar,” she nudged him, teasing, “I was almost mincemeat.”

“Hey, I thought you said you could handle yourself~”

“Just help me clean this place up, gilipollas. You could've handed me my gun."

"No no, I couldn't! It burns, remember?"

"Oh, right. I guess you weren’t just watching me get my ass kicked."

She picked up her things hesitantly, T's eyes never leaving her form. It was a moment of gentle concern he didn't show to anyone but Betty.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm…" She paused, hovering over the lockbox on her bed. "...Trucidar, do you know what's in this box? Can you see it?"

She handed it to him without worry. She knew Trucidar was trustworthy; and he knew her mom. If anyone would know…

"I've seen this box before." He remarked, turning it over in his hands. The contents rattled. "This is the box she bought at a flea market because she liked the sigils. It was a warding spell for unsavory demons and other meddling energy…"

"...but what's in it?" Betty pressed, coming closer to him. She put her hands on the box as well, as if she could try and read the energy in it. Unfortunately, she wasn't Melanie.

"If I had to guess…" He glanced up. "...it's her contract with me."

"Her contract…?"

"I just know she wanted it kept safe at all costs. Didn't tell me why." He mused. "That other demon must've been looking to destroy it."

Betty furrowed her brow. Infighting amongst demons over souls was no surprise, especially not among Envy Soulstealers. However, for someone to attempt on a human life just to spite another demon? That was unusual.

"I suppose we'll never know," she sighed, "I don't know if you noticed, but I swallowed the key."

"Oh, I saw. That was so gross, why’d you do that?~"

The two of them laughed for a while, before Betty stuck the box and journal safely upon her closet shelf. Perhaps one day she'd have the answer…

But for now, her connection to her mother is still sundered and fragmented. The pieces are still too jagged to pick back up yet.

#oc writing #vana writes #writing prompts #betty gomez-garcia #uncle t #tio trucidar #mulligan of adamentia #melanie stanford #chad patterson #virgil

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gfanlocalcryptid · 10 months

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Cry Baby - BillFord Playlist

I read the lyrics and thought: is it Bill talking to Ford?

You seem to replace Your brain with your heart You take things so hard And then you fall apart

You try to explain But before you can start Those cry baby tears Come out of the dark

(...)

Your heart's too big for your body It's why you won't fit inside You pour it out Where everyone can see

They call you cry baby, cry baby But you don't fucking care Cry baby, cry baby So you laugh through your tears Cry baby, cry baby 'Cause you don't fucking care Tears fall to the ground You just let them drown

You just let them drown Cry baby, cry baby

You're all on your own and You lost all your friends You told yourself that It's not you, it's them

You're one of a kind And no one understands But those cry baby tears Keep coming back again

Someone's turning the handle To that faucet in your eyes They're pouring out Where everyone can see

(...)

I look at you and I see myself And I know you better than anyone else And I have the same faucet in my eyes So your tears are mine~

They call me cry baby, cry baby But I don't fucking care Cry baby, cry baby I laugh through my tears Cry baby, cry baby 'Cause I don't fucking care Tears fall to the ground I just let them drown

(...)

youtube

Perfect.

#gravity falls #billford #bill cipher #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls ship #gravity falls playlist #billford playlist #melanie martinez #cry baby #Youtube

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simpliciaty-cc · 2 years

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AVA OVERSIZED HOODIE

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#s4 #ts4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims #sims4 #sims 4 #simpliciaty #ava #oversized #hoodie

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allamericansbitch · 2 years

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based on this thread, here is a list of famous people who have supported johnny depp and/or made fun of amber heard. fuck all of them:

Aly & AJ

Alissa Violet (Influencer)

Anitta

Ann Coulter

Ashley Benson

Ashley Park (actress from Emily in Paris)

Auli'i Cravalho (actress from Moana)

Bailey Muñoz

Bella Hadid

Ben Shapiro

Booboo Stewart

Chase Hudson (Lil Huddy)

Chase Stokes (actor from Outer Banks)

China McClaine

Chris Rock

Cierra Ramirez (actress from The Fosters/Good Trouble)

Cody Simpson

Connor Swindells (adam groff on sex education)

Cazzie David

Critical Role

Dakota Fanning

Dakota Johnson

Daniel Ricciardo

Diana Silvers

Dillion Francis (DJ)

Dominic Fike

Dove Cameron

Elle King

Emma Roberts

Florence Pugh

Gabby Douglas

Gemma Chan

Halle Bailey

Henry Golding

Ian Somerhalder

Jaime King

Jamie Campbell Bower

Javier Bardem

Jennifer Aniston

Jennifer Coolidge

Jeremy Renner

Jessie J

JK Rowling

Joe Perry (Aerosmith)

JoJo Siwa

Jordan Fisher

Julian Kostov (actor from Shadow & Bone)

Justin Long

Kali Uchis

Kat Von D

Kelly Osbourne

Kelsea Ballerini

Kyle Rittenhouse

LaKeith Stanfield

Lance Bass

Lennon Stella

Lewis Tan

Lucy Hale

Madelyn Cline (actress from Outer Banks)

Maren Morris

Matthias Schoenaerts

Michael Clifford (of 5 Seconds of Summer)

Molly Shanon

Nicholas Braun

Norman Reedus

Nyane (popular instagram model)

Olivia Jade

Paige (from WWE)

Paris Hilton

Patti Smith

Paul Bettany

Paul McCartney

Penelope Cruz

Perrie Edwards

Phillip Barantini (director of Boiling Point)

Pokimane (Twitch Streamer)

Reeve Carney

Robert Downey Jr

Rian Dawson (Drummer of All Time Low)

Riley Keough

Rita Ora

Ryan Adams

Sam Claflin

Samantha Hanratty (actress from Yellowjackets)

Samuel Larsen

Seth Savoy (Director)

Shannen Doherty

Sharon Stone

Sia

SNL cast and writers

Sofia Boutella

Sophie Turner

Stella Maxwell

Tammin Sursok

Taika Waititi

Tony Lopez

Upsahl

Vanessa Hudgens

Vanessa Morgan

Vanessa Paradis

Vincent Gallo

Yungblud

Zachary Levi

Zedd

Zoe Saldana

Zoey Deutch

People who publicly support Amber:

Aiysha Hart

Alex Winter

Alexa Nikolas (actress from Zoey 101)

Amanda Seyfried

Amy Schumer

Anna Sophia Robb

Bianca Butti (Amber's ex)

Busy Philipps

Chace Crawford

Chloe Morello

Christina Ricci

Constance Wu

Contrapoints/Natalie Wynn

Corey Rae

Dana Schwartz (journalist and writer)

David Krumholtz

Dolph Lundgren

Edward Norton

Elizabeth Lail (actress who played Beck from you)

Elizabeth McGovern

Elizaberh Reaser (Esmé in Twilight)

Ellen Barkin

Emeraude Toubia (actress from Shadowhunters and With Love)

Emily Ratajkowski

Evan Rachel Wood

Finneas

Howard Stern

Ira Madison III

Jamelle Bouie (NYT columnist)

Jessica Taylor, Dr

Jon Lovett (podcaster & former White House speech writer & fiance of Ronan Farrow)

John Legend

Julia Fox

Julia Stiles

Julianne Moore

Kate Nash (singer, actress from Glow)

Kathy Griffin

Kristen Bell

Lauren Jauregui

Lena Headey

Lindsay Ellis (YouTuber)

Lindsay Lohan

Lindsey Gort

Mia Farrow

Michele Dauber (Stanford law professor)

Millie Brady (actress in The Last Kingdom)

Mel B

Melanie Lynskey

Melissa Benoist

Monica Lewinsky

Nathalie Emmanuel (actress on Game of Thrones)

Neil Gaiman (writer of Caroline, American Gods, Good Omens, etc.)

Nikki Glaser (comedian)

Patricia Arquette

Rachel Riley

Raphael Bob-Waksberg (creator of Bojack Horseman)

Robin Lord Taylor

Rian Johnson (director of Knives Out)

Ryn Weaver (singer)

Samantha Bee (comedian)

Sarah Paulson

Sarah Steele

Selma Blair

Sophia Bush

Uzo Aduba

Willa Fitzgerald

Zach Kornfeld (from the Try Guys)

#tp #amber heard #johnny depp #heard v depp

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aloneinthehellfire · 3 months

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Chapter One: A New Friend, A New Enemy

The Pariahs That Saved The World (Masterlist)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, canon descriptions (vecna's curse)

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who seems really excited about this! I am going to try and post for this one weekly, just so I have enough time between uni and work to write new chapters :) This one is a little long, but I needed to set up Reader's character a little more so enjoy!]

The Introduction <-

A New Friend, A New Enemy

“Y/n!”

You slip off your headphones and greet your grandmother with a smile, laughing when she squeezed you tight. It had been almost 8 months since you watched her wave her hand of farewell in the rear view mirror. You had missed her the most, you think. Her warm hugs, her calming perfume, the way she cared for you.

“Come on, I’ve made us some lunch.” She hurries you inside and you laugh again.

“I need to grab the rest of my things, first.” You shake your head in amusement, escaping her clutches and darting back to the taxi, thanking the man for pulling out your luggage.

Just as you hitch your duffel bag over your shoulder, your eyes catch something familiar a few houses down. A worn out and beaten Chevrolet sat abandoned outside of its former resident’s house, a white piece of paper resembling a ticket you had seen when the mechanics would return your property if not claimed. You could just make out the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the mud, your heart wrenching. You had hoped your return would be free from unwanted memories. That obviously didn’t exist in Hawkins.

“So, tell me everything. How’s Stanford?” Gran rushes through with excitement just as your feet are barely inside the door. “Oh, we are so proud of you, honey. Our little star, a Stanford journalist!”

“Gran, you know it’s only my first year, I haven’t even managed to write anything let alone publish it.” You say, following her with your bags. She was leading you up to the guest room. Well, technically, it was your room. You had never really accepted that.

“Oh, did you notice the Hargroves house is for sale?” She whispers out like an unspeakable secret, and you dump your bags on the floor.

“Yeah, I saw.” You try to remain emotionless, rolling your shoulder until the usual ache faded. You were used to it now, the muscles flaring up every now and then.

“Apparently- now, you didn’t hear it from me…” She starts to lean in and you suppress a smile. Your grandmother, the gossiper. “Apparently, the husband just took off.”

“What?” You suddenly gain interest, frowning.

“Oh, yeah. The end of last summer.” She nods knowingly. “Must have been hard for them after their son died. It was a tragedy. And that poor girl… Andrea down the road told me she and the mother were forced to move into the trailer park down by Kerley. Not fit for a child, if you ask me.”

“They obviously couldn’t afford anywhere else.” You say, mostly to yourself, and Gran simply hums in agreement.

“Oh, which reminds me, Melanie, the one with the bird nest hair, she…”

She begins rambling once again about the neighbourhood, obviously pleased to have her granddaughter back so she can share the gossip. You listened intently, nodding when you needed to, offering your own remarks when prompted. You loved your Gran. The thought of her being alone in this house affected you more than you realise.

The real reason you were back wasn’t because you had missed Hawkins. In fact, you were set on your Spring Break exploring Stanford and all it had to offer. But about two months ago, your grandad was omitted to the hospital and a week later, he was no longer with you. Your Gran had shared how his health had been deteriorating for a while now, that they had expected it sooner or later. So, in the end, it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t make it any less sad.

“Should I be expecting guests for dinner?” She asks and you blink, frowning.

“Guests?”

“Your friends.” She reiterates, already busying her hands by pulling out your already folded clothes from your suitcase and refolding them how she liked it. “I assume everyone will be anxious to see you. It’s been eight months, hasn’t it?”

“Uh…” You purse your lips, shrugging. “I don’t know, I thought it could just be the two of us tonight.”

Gran gently places down a sweater and eyes you suspiciously. “So, you’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” You give off the first vague answer in your head, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket and sitting down on the plush bedding behind you.

“Hm.” She sounds, sliding shut the first drawer before she silently walks around the bed and sits beside you. “You won’t be seeing them, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. You lift your eyes to meet hers and sigh.

“We aren’t as close as we were before, Gran. It’s… complicated.” You decide and she takes your hand in hers.

“You’ve known them since you were just a little sprout.” She ruffles your hair and you cringe, laughing and batting her hand away. “I’m sure whatever happened can’t be so complicated that you can’t… I don’t know, catch up over coffee? Or whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“I wish it was like that.” You say, and you meant it. After a moment, she seems to understand that you didn’t want to continue this particular conversation and she stands, brushing her outfit back into simple perfection.

“Well, sandwiches, anyone?” She offers and you grin, nodding.

The day before you left for Stanford, you were contemplating whether or not it was the right choice. Gran was right, you have known them since you were a kid. But last summer changed all of that. You weren’t sure you could see their faces ever again.

So, rather than try and find them, you decided to spend the next day unpacking. You’d be here for a month so it made sense to have everything neat and tidy. It was just until the funeral, and then you’d be back at college and studying away any memory of Hawkins being your home. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

You can hear the distant ring of the phone echoing up the stairs, continuing to pull out your books. You might as well be caught up with your classes if you were going to spend all your time inside.

“Y/n!” Gran calls up and you push away from the desk to lean over the banister.

“Yeah?” You ask as she stares up at you, the phone in her left hand while the right covered the receiver.

“It’s your friend.” She says with a small smile and your face drops into a frown. “She says it’s urgent.”

“Uh…” You shake your head. Who would be calling you? “Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Gran nods and relays the information, setting the phone on the side table and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Your footsteps were wary as you descend the staircase, eyes set on the white object beside one of your grandmother’s vases. There was a hauntingly familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. Once you reach the table, you shift your focus to the photo frame. It was small, a collected memory from a few years ago now. You were stood there smiling, the camera capturing you in pleasant surprise when a brunette girl behind you had jumped onto your back. It made your eyes sting, and you knew you had to make the decision to answer the call.

Hesitantly picking up the phone, you hold it to your ear and close your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Nancy’s voice blares through and your eyes snap back open.

Barrels of apologies and excuses spewed from her lips and you stand in silent shock, clutching the receiver a little too tight. She could only be calling for one reason. You had known it before you had even answered the phone.

Something was happening in Hawkins. Again. And if Nancy was calling for help, then she truly needed it.

And you’d never let her down.

“Have we met before?” You ask, studying the girl stood next to you.

The walls of the archive were surprisingly bright, shining an iridescent hue on her dark blonde locks. Her blue eyes were blinking back at you, pink lips stuck in a soft pucker of indecision. She was pretty. Really pretty. And at the same time she looked effortlessly cool, a jacket you wished you own. Something about her felt familiar to you, drawing you in.

Then a pang of guilt hits you and you force your concentration on waiting for her answer.

Robin felt weak. Who were you? It was taking everything in her to open her mouth and speak which, as literally everyone knew, was incredibly unlike her.

“I don’t think so.” Robin finally breathes out. There was softness in the way you spoke to her too, calming her nerves. Those strange waves of anxiety were being taken with the tide like you were her lighthouse in the stormy sea of her mind.

“Oh.” You scrunch your face with a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

She was surprised to see you put out your hand but she willingly shakes it anyway, smiling back.

When you pull away, Robin seems a little more comfortable, coming closer to peer down at your old project folder, reading along with Nancy. You tried not to stare, busying your eyes with your own work in Nancy’s hands.

“Anything… juicy over there?” Robin asks Nancy and the girl throws her a tight lipped smile.

“Nothing new yet.” She responds and you notice the strain in her voice. She adopted it any time she was struggling to enjoy somebody’s presence.

“Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” Robin utters as she skims over the page below, slowly raising her head to look at Nancy. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Nancy doesn’t respond and continues flicking through the pages, making Robin’s eyes widen.

“Nance?” She tries again and you frown.

“She’s focused.” You offer, smiling. “She zones in so much that she zones out sometimes.”

“Right.” She nods slowly, still staring at her. “Um, so are we, uh… looking for any mentions of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?”

You remember something and open your mouth to speak before Nancy interrupts with a huff.

“I don’t know, okay?” She sighs loudly, leaning against the desk and meeting Robin’s eyes. “It’s starting to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you’re obviously bored so why don’t you just call Steve? I’m sure he’ll come pick you up. And I mean, I’m not really in danger here, so…”

With that, she walks away from the table and grabs another folder you had brought, furiously flipping through as she travels down a different staircase to the filing room. Your eyebrows raise.

“Woah.” You simply say, noticing Robin’s frown. “She’s, uh… hell, I don’t even know. Nance gets ultra focused when she thinks she has a lead on something and, well… she doesn’t like to get it wrong. Which is understandable.”

“So, she acts like this with other people?” She asks and you tighten your lips.

“Um…”

“Okay, that’s a no.” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m trying, I really am, I just struggle with whatever the hell bonding is meant to be, I mean me and Steve literally only bonded because we were both getting tortured and thought we would die. Which, no, not an ideal way to start a friendship but you know what, it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”

“You were at Starcourt?” You frown and she looks back at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” She waves her hands, “I, um… no one really mentions it anymore. Unless it’s the news and they’re pretending like it was a-”

“Fire, yeah. I heard.” You say, staring at the stairs Nancy descended. “How did all of this start?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and you turn your attention back to her.

“This… Vecna, was it? How did it start?” You repeat, shaking your head. “Nancy could only tell me so much over the phone so I’m a little behind.”

“A girl was found dead in the trailer park.” Robin relays, gulping. “Chrissy Cunningham? She’s a cheerleader. Was. They found her with all her bones snapped and her eyes were… gone. They think Eddie Munson did it-”

“Eddie?” You gasp, and Robin looks surprised. “No, Eddie wouldn’t do that-”

“We know. Trust me.” She says hurriedly, “He told us everything that happened. Apparently she was floating in the air and her bones were snapping- it’s a really gruesome story but the same thing, like, just happened to Fred and we need to figure out who this Vecna is before someone else gets hurt.”

“Okay.” You breathe and she raises her brow.

“Okay? I just unloaded a dump of hell onto you, and it’s okay?” She sounded intrigued and you shrug.

“The last few years have been… weird. To the point where weird sounds normal now.” You say, a soft frown on your features.

Robin wasn’t entirely sure where you fit into all of this. Sure, you had information they needed, you’ve been a part of their group for some time, you made sense. What she was struggling to understand is why you were here now. And why you weren’t here before.

“How’d you meet everyone?” You ask before she can. Any thought she had of questioning your arrival was cleverly misplaced. For the moment.

“I worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last year.” Robin nods and you frown.

“But I never…” You start before your eyes widen, mouth curling into a smile. “Oh my god, yes! I do remember you!”

“You do?” Robin tries to comb back through her memories.

“Yeah, Max dragged me there maybe… a week after it opened? She was telling me about Steve’s little sailor outfit and of course, I didn’t believe her, so she had to show me proof.” You giggle to yourself, meeting her eyes. “I remember you were taking a break outside, Max introduced us. Well, kind of. She never got to my name before Steve arrived with that stupid frown on his face.”

“I don’t remember that.” She frowns and you bite your lip, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in like, a mean girl way. I mean, my memory is apparently broken because I’m very sure I would have remembered you. Not in a weird way, either, like- I just think you make an impression on people- a good one. Not a bad one.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh and she shakes her head enough to make her bangs sway in her embarrassment. “I looked a lot different then. And I was, like, super shy. I was probably hiding my face or something.”

“Hold on.” She blinks with a smirk. “You’re the girl? Like, the girl?”

“Am I meant to know what that means?” You squint your eyes.

Robin simply laughs to herself until she clocks your confusion. “No, I… Max did bring someone in for, like, one of our first ever shifts together. I remember because when they left, Steve looked like some kicked puppy and I couldn’t work with him and that stupid frown so I made him tell me what was bothering him. Apparently, the girl that left was the girl he couldn’t get in high school and it ‘haunts’ him. It’s so stupid.”

You go quiet and her eyes widen.

“Oh god.” She covers her mouth. “Did I talk too much again? God, I’m sorry- I literally can’t control my mouth.”

“No, you’re right.” You say, shaking your head. “Steve… he and I don’t really get along. Opposite ends of the high school popularity pool until I won this debate contest and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but suddenly I was on Steve’s radar and, well, you know the rest.”

“You can do better.” She simply nods and you raise your eyebrow at her remark. “What? Oh, he’s amazing now. Like, a genuine gentleman kind of guy, but King Steve? Whew, that boy needed a leash or something.”

“You guys are pretty close, huh?” You ask and she smiles.

“Yeah, he’s my best…” She begins before her face drops. Oh.

“What?” You ask when she starts walking away.

“I know why!” She exclaims before turning her heel and marching down those steps to Nancy, finding her sorting through the filing cabinet.

If Nancy heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Robin felt so stupid. It had been a while since she’d been a part of ‘girl world’ or, more specifically, ‘girl-code world’. The thought of there being any tension hadn’t even crossed her mind before.

“You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?” Robin asks breathlessly, leaning against the wooden banister.

“What?” Nancy frowns, shaking her head and turning to look over her shoulder.

“So I figure that you and Jonathan are still going strong ‘cause you guys are going to college together, and you’re like one of those unstoppable power couples, but I… I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like, platonic with a capital P.”

Nancy’s response in underwhelming at best, a tight lipped smile and Robin almost groans in frustration. She can hear your sneakers steadily descend the stairs and she turns back.

“Just in case that’s adding any tension between us.” She expresses to Nancy and you frown at the interaction.

“It wasn’t.” Nancy replies and Robin sighs.

“Uh…” You start to say, both pairs of eyes immediately looking at you. “Sorry to, um, interrupt. I have stuff I need to do…”

“Right.” Nancy blinks apologetically, looking back at the folder in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I really thought I was going to find something. I… I didn’t want to drag you into this, really, it’s just-”

“Hawkins.” You finish her sentence, stepping off the final stair and leaning against the banister. “Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps, suddenly grabbing the folder out of Nancy’s hands despite her silent protest. “Is that from The Weekly Watcher?”

She points to a specific part of one of the tabs and you move to peer over her shoulder, nodding.

“Don’t they write about, like, Bigfoot and UFOs?” Nancy scoffs, already dismissing the idea.

“First of all, UFOs are absolutely real. Bigfoot I’m still on the fence about.” She comments and you hum agreement. “But may I remind you we are looking for information on dark wizards? If someone’s gonna write about that, it’s gonna be these weirdos.”

“She’s not wrong.” You add and Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah, there’s a whole article about Victor Creel. He claimed that a vengeful demon killed his family. Obviously I only added a reference for context, I never actually believed it. You know, before…”

You vaguely gesture the space around you and Robin flips the page over.

“According to several insiders, Victor believed his house was haunted by an ancient demon.” Robin read aloud, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle along your skin. “Victor allegedly hired a priest to exorcise the demon from his home- pretty novel for the 50s, Exorcistwasn’t even out yet.”

“Keep- keep going.” Nancy insisted and Robin frowns.

“That’s all that’s here.” She says and Nancy looks at you.

“He claimed that the exorcism failed.” You recall, staring at the cut out photo of the Creel Family. “He said it angered the demon. It murdered his family, removing their eyes.”

“Did it say why he wasn’t killed?” Robin questions.

“Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.” You say with a twist in your stomach. His whole family died. He was all alone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty convenient for Victor.” Nancy mumbles and Robin frowns.

“Yeah, or super inconvenient.” She challenges, her eyes looking at yours for support. You simply nod, feeling sick. “Victor was declared legally insane by the court, right? Well, what if this is why? I mean, it sounds pretty insane, it just didn’t go public because-”

“The plea bargain.” Nancy jumps in, and you can see her trying to slot all the pieces together, “The records were sealed.”

“What if a demon did invade Victor’s home.” Robin glances between you both. “It’s just, this demon wasn’t any old demon.”

“It was Vecna.” Nancy finishes, and you immediately start shaking your head.

“Okay, you guys got everything you need?” You quickly rush out, sorting the folder around so it would shut. “Actually, you know what, you guys can just keep that, I need to-”

“You’re leaving?” Nancy frowns, following you as you jog back up the stairs and to where you had dumped your bag before. Robin hurriedly grabbed your folder and followed suit.

“Yeah, I told you, I have stuff to do.” You mutter an excuse, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“But what about-”

“No, Nance.” You suddenly say, much stricter than you intended it to be. You pause your steps, taking a deep breath to look her in the eye. “I hate that there’s something new terrorising Hawkins. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But that’s your choice. I can’t do this again.”

Robin stood there, clutching your folder to her chest. Nancy was struggling with her words, and you didn’t look like you were going to stick around long enough to hear them.

“We need you.” Robin blurts and you look at her, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we do. You know more about this case than any of us, you dedicated, what, a whole month? Maybe more? To learn about the Creel House, about the murders. You have information we can’t possible find because Hawkins doesn’t like to keep around its records of murder, and- and Nancy said you were great at this detective stuff which basically means you know what we need to do next.”

Rather than respond, you start weighing your options. The best decision you ever made was leaving all of this behind. Stanford had everything you wanted; hope. Anytime you decided to help them, it was always your life you were risking. That they were risking. Why would this time be any different?

“I really hope you win this.” You finally say, offering half a smile before you push through those doors and don’t look back, disappearing into the darkening shadows outside.

“Damn it.” Nancy curses, resting a hand on her hip and the other on a table.

“What happened between you guys?” Robin asks into the silence and Nancy looks up.

“What do you-”

“I don’t want a vague answer.” She says, still clutching onto the folder pressed against her chest. “She looked terrified. Which, yeah, it makes a lot of sense under normal circumstances. But this was more like PTSD kind of terrified. What the hell happened last year that no one’s telling me?”

The silence left Robin in the dark, Nancy’s features pouring over in restrained emotion.

By the time you had dug out your keys with trembling hands, you could feel the prickling of tears threaten to spill at any moment. They had no right to ask that of you. Especially not Nancy. She was there last year, she knows why you left. And yet again, none of them were listening to you.

You sat in your grandad’s old armchair for about an hour, a book resting on your lap but it remained untouched. It would just be another distraction, another reason to pretend like nothing was wrong. To stop yourself from remembering, feeling.

It’s why you went to Stanford, really. You didn’t care about journalism like you used to. But the work load was almost unbearable, which meant that every waking moment would need to be dedicated to studying. If you didn’t occupy your mind, you’d have to relive last year.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gran says as she enters the room, a shopping bag in one hand. You hadn’t even heard her key in the door. “Did you see your friends?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, setting aside the book and leaning forward.

“What did you kids get up to?” She asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen to set down her groceries. When she returns, you have your head in your hands.

You can feel her fingers gently pry away your hands as she takes the chair opposite you, smiling like she already knew what was going through your head. Looking at her, the way her eyes were glazing over, you felt so selfish. You had left to escape everything that happened last year, and you had left her for months to deal with it all alone. Here you were, wallowing in self pity because your friends hadn’t been there for you when you needed them, and it turns out you’re doing the exact same thing to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping away the tear that trickles down your cheek. “I should have stayed with you and Grandad.”

“What?” She frowns lightly, shaking her head. “Darling, no. All we ever wanted for you was to get out into the world, find something that made you happy.”

“But I’m not happy.” You express, catching a sob that threatened to escape. “I just wanted to get away, get out of Hawkins. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I- I just couldn’t…”

Her hand suddenly finds your own, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay.” She says and you lift your head up. She continued smiling, but it was much sadder now. “No one can expect you to move on from what happened last year as quick as that.”

“And what if I never move on?”

“It’s not about moving on.” She smiles. “It’s about acceptance. It’s about holding onto the memory because you cherish it, not because you are haunted by it.”

The clock in the distance could be heard counting the seconds as you sit there in silence. She was right, as per usual. You weren’t letting yourself feel. You should be embracing the fact that you still had her. Even with all Hawkins has been through, you still had her.

Your heart pangs with panic. She was still here.

“I should be getting to bed-”

“Come with me.” You offer suddenly and she raises her eyebrows.

“To Stanford?” She says as if it were absurd.

“I’m serious. Let’s move away, start fresh. We’ll find somewhere new, Gran. Please.” You beg and she offers a smile, capturing your hand by placing another on top.

“Hawkins is my home. It always has been. I was born here, I met the love of my life here. I watched my little one grow up and, when he had little ones of their own, I watched them grow up too. This is where my family is. I… I can’t leave.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” You say, smiling. “You should get some rest.”

Your heart wrenches. If only she knew what you did. About what really happens in Hawkins, what lurks there in the dark. She can’t stay here, not when you know it isn’t safe. Not when she’s all you have left.

Three knocks echo out from the front door, and Gran shifts in her seat, quickly glancing at the clock. Who would be here at this hour?

“Thank you.” She stands with you, squeezing your hand as she dropped it. “Try and get some rest.”

You wait until she’s heading up the stairs and out of earshot before you rush to the door, gently brushing aside the small curtain and frowning at the silhouette. It wasn’t who you had expected.

The door is open barely four inches before she starts talking at you, ring-donned hands clasped together.

“Look, I know we’ve literally just met. And I probably- no, I definitely don’t have the right to ask you to stay with us, but we’re basically alone right now. Half of us are in California, we don’t have any connections in the sheriff’s department anymore. Everyone who would know what to do is gone, and you’re kinda the only person left who can help us. I get so much happened to you last year and I- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to do this, then please listen to it. Please.”

Robin didn’t know what she was expecting when she left the school. Her feet had taken her further than her mind was planning, but she knew she had to find you. Max was in trouble, and they were all way in over their heads to not have help. Nancy refused to bother you any further, and she understood, she really did, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. This was bigger than all of them, bigger than everyone.

“Robin?” You say, brows scrunched together in surprise. She thins her lips.

“Sorry to just blurt that all out, but I didn’t know if you were just gonna slam the door on me- or maybe I’d forget what I wanted to say.” She explained, feeling the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you. “Max is in trouble.”

“What?” You sobered at the thought, leaning closer to her. Then, in a moment of split decision, you glance back up the stairs before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“We found a connection between all the victims.” Robin tries to explain, and you noticed how expressive she was with her hands. “Basically, Max has the same symptoms as the rest of them, and she’s, like, 100% sure she’s next of Vecna’s kill list.”

“Is she okay?” You ask, and Robin can see the desperation behind your eyes.

“Yeah. Shaken up, but she’s fine. For now.” She clears her throat, a pleading look as she stares at you. “We need to find Vecna as fast as we possibly can before he can get to her. I… I know about what happened last year. About your dad.”

You seem taken aback by her knowledge, eyes darting down to your shoes.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all of this behind.” She sympathises, and she let herself be much calmer than she felt. “But I’m asking you if you’ll help us.”

Your heart was aching as you wipe your sweaty palms against your jeans, barely even feeling the cold rush of wind hitting your bare arms. You had meant what you said earlier; you couldn’t do this again. It took everything in you to move out of Hawkins, go to college and live a life the person you loved the most couldn’t do anymore.

But you were currently stood in front of a door. And behind that door, was the last person you had left, and she wasn’t planning on leaving her home any time soon. As it turned out, fleeing wasn’t an option for everyone else.

“I’ll do it.”

Robin blinks, studying you for any ounce of uncertainty. You looked deadly serious.

Maybe, just maybe, with you by their side, they were taking down Vecna after all.

taglist: @kryztalglear @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer @em16cor @endurexxsurvive

[if you see your name highlighted in pink, it means that tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! i am trying to figure out the reasons behind this but it could be as simple as visibility settings so please check that <3]

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #nancy wheeler #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x reader #robin x reader #robin buckley #sapphic #sapphic fic #st4 fanfic #st4

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brokenfuturerpg · 8 months

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PBS FEMENINOS POR EDAD

Hola personitas. Venimos con un aporte que nos ha costado un tiempito reunir. Es posible que algunos PB tengan 1 añito más de lo que pone, porque igual cumplieron recién. Esperamos les guste ^^

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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 2 years

Text

An Open Letter Denouncing the [RACIST] Attacks on Justice Clarence Thomas

https://www.realclearpolitics.com/articles/2022/07/13/an_open_letter_denouncing_the_attacks_on_justice_clarence_thomas_147879.html?mc_cid=e37b2b8113

An Open Letter Denouncing the Attacks on Justice Clarence Thomas

By Glenn Loury & Robert Woodson Sr.

July 13, 2022

White progressives do not have the moral authority to excommunicate a black man from his race because they disagree with him.

And those – regardless of background – who join in the charade or remain silent are guilty of enabling this abuse.

We, the undersigned, condemn the barrage of racist, vicious, and ugly personal attacks that we are witnessing on Clarence Thomas – a sitting Supreme Court justice. Whether it is calling him a racist slur, an “Uncle Tom” or questioning his “blackness” over his jurisprudence, the disparagement of this man, of his faith and of his character, is abominable.

Regardless of where one stands on Justice Thomas’ personal or legal opinions, he is among the pantheon of black trailblazers throughout American history and is a model of integrity, scholarship, steadfastness, resilience, and commitment to the Constitution of the United States of America. For three decades Justice Thomas has served as a model for our children. He has long been honored and celebrated by black people in this country and his attackers do not speak for the majority of blacks.

He is entirely undeserving of the vitriol directed at him. Character assassination has become too convenient a tool for eviscerating those who dare dissent from the prevailing agenda, especially when it is a black man who is dissenting.

This is not about the content of the court’s decisions or Justice Thomas’ personal views; some of the undersigned agree with his judicial decisions and some do not. We speak out – as black people and Americans – to condemn these attacks and support Justice Thomas, because to remain silent would be to implicitly endorse these poisonous schemes as well as his destruction.

Sincerely,

Glenn Loury

Professor of Economics

Brown University

Providence, RI

Robert Woodson Sr.

Founder and President

The Woodson Center

Washington, DC

Charles Love, Executive Director, Seeking Educational Excellence, New York, NY

Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Research Fellow, Hoover Institution, Stanford, CA

W. Barclay Allen, Havre de Grace, MD

Christopher Arps, Co-founder, Move-On-Up.org, St. Louis, MO

Dr. Lisa Babbage, Babbage America, Suwanee, GA

Leon Benjamin, Pastor, Life Harvest Church, Richmond, VA

Claston Bernard , Olympian, Author, Former Congressional Candidate, Gonzales, LA

Shamike Bethea, Fredrick Douglass Foundation of NC, Fayetteville, NC

Harold A. Black, Emeritus Professor University of Tennessee, Knoxville, TN

Kenneth Blackwell, Chairman, Conservative Action Project, OH

Tony Blount, Member / Coalition of Concerned Freedmen, New York, NY

Jordan R. Bolds ,New York, NY

Robert Bracy, President/Pinnacle Business Management, New York, NY

David Brooks, Former Rich Township IL Republican Committeeman, Indianapolis, IN

Janice Rogers Brown, Gardnerville, NV

John Sibley Butler, Austin, TX

Don Carey, City Councilman, Chesapeake, VA

Tess Chakkalakal, Associate Professor, Bowdoin College, Brunswick, ME

Jeff Charles, Podcaster, Writer, Political Commentator, Jacksonville, FL

Gabrielle Clark, Houston, TX

Adam B. Coleman, Founder of Wrong Speak Publishing, Piscataway, NJ

Melanie Collette, Host, Money Talk with Melanie Cape May Court House, NJ

Ward Connerly, President of the American Civil Rights Institute, Coeur d'Alene, ID

D. Daniels, GA

Kira A. Davis, Deputy Managing Editor, RedState, Ladera Ranch, CA

Rod Dorilás, GOP Candidate, Florida 22nd Congressional District, West Palm Beach, FL

Patricia Rae Easley, Black Excellence Media, Chicago, IL

Larry Elder, President of Elder for America PAC, Los Angeles, CA

Rev. Joe Ellison Jr., City Chaplain Ministries, Richmond, VA

Melvin Everson, Former State Rep, Snellville, GA

Nique Fajors, St. Louis, MO

Yaya J. Fanusie, Chief Strategist, Cryptocurrency AML Strategies, Columbia, MD

George Farrell, Chair of BlakPac,Washington, DC

Chavis Jennings, Highland, IN

Casey Felin, ThatGirlCasey Media, Philadelphia, PA

LaTasha H. Fields, Team Illinois, Chicago, IL

Marie Fischer, JEXIT, Baltimore, MD

Kali Fontanilla, Founder of Exodus Institute, Sarasota, FL

Roland Fryer, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Edwin A. Fynn, Merrillville, IN

Verlon Galloway, Gary, IN

Dr. Derryck Green, Sacramento, CA

Kermit E. Hairston, Stone Mountain, GA

Christopher Harris, Executive Director of Unhyphenated America, Fairfax County, VA

Clarence Henderson, President Frederick Douglass Foundation of N. Carolina, High Point, NC

Ismael Hernandez, Founder/President/Freedom & Virtue Institute, Fort Myers, FL

Curtis Hill, Former Indiana Attorney General, Elkhart, IN

Deidre Hulett, Gary, IN

Daniel Idfresne, 18-Year-Old Political Commentator, New York City, NY

Niger Innis, Chairman, Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), Las Vegas, NV

Kevin Jackson, Founder/The Kevin Jackson Network, Gilbert, AZ

Nikki Johnson, MD, Cleveland, OH

Leonydus Johnson, Host of Informed Dissent, Oak Hill, OH

Diante Johnson, President, Black Conservative Federation, Arlington, VA

Christopher Jones, Pastor, Atlanta, GA

Seneca Jones, Dallas, TX

Khansa Jones-Muhammad, Los Angeles, CA

Dr. Alveda King, Concerned Citizen, Atlanta, GA

Lisa Kinnemore, Stone Mountain, GA

Garry Kinnemore, Stone Mountain, GA

Matthew P. Kreutz, Frederick Douglass Foundation of New York, Medina, NY

Chaplain Ayesha Kreutz, Frederick Douglass Foundation of New York, Medina, NY

Princess Kuevor, Columbus, OH

Michael Lancaster, Frederick Douglass Foundation, Stone Mountain, GA

Mitchell Lomax, Ellicott City, MD

Pamela Denise Long, Nat'l Coordinator, Coalition of Concerned Freedmen, St. Louis, MO

Barrington D. Martin II, Atlanta, GA

Linda Matthews, Frederick Douglass Foundation Ohio, Cincinnati, OH

Kevin McGary, Co-Founder Every Black Life Matters (EBLM), Dallas, TX

John McWhorter, New York, NY

Shemeka Michelle, Author, Durham, NC

Cashmere Miller, Atlanta, GA

Montrail Miller, FDF, GA

Lucas E. Morel, Professor of Politics, Washington and Lee University, Lexington, VA

Brian Mullins, Black Community Collaborative, Chicago, IL

Scherie Murray, Director, Unite the Fight PAC, Laurelton, NY

Dr. Lorenzo Neal, New Bethel AME Church, Jackson, MS

Dean Nelson, Frederick Douglass Foundation, Washington, DC

Morris W. O'Kelly, On-air personality, KFI AM640/iHeartRadio, Los Angeles, CA

Tim Parrish, Founder, Right Appeal PAC, Woodbridge, VA

Lonnie Poindexter, LionChasersNetwork.org, Washington, DC

Jon Ponder, Chief Executive Officer, Hope For Prisoners, Las Vegas, NV

Wilfred Reilly, Kentucky State University, Frankfort, KY

Deon Richmond, Studio City, CA

Donique Rolle, Educator, Orlando, FL

Ian V. Rowe, Senior Visiting Fellow, The Woodson Center, New York, NY

Sheryl R. Sellaway, Founder, Righteous PR Agency, Johns Creek, GA

Erec Smith, Assoc. Professor of Rhetoric/Co-founder Free Black Thought, York, PA

Dr. Felicity Joy Solomon, Shorewood, IL

Delano Squires, Contributor, Blaze Media, Washington, DC

Rebekah Star, New York, NY

Dr. Carol M. Swain, Be the People News, Nashville, TN

David Sypher Jr., Political Strategist, Rahway, NJ

Dr. Linda Lee Tarver, President, Tarver Consulting, Lansing, MI

Greg Thomas, Stratford, CT

Roderick Threats, Black Patriot Media Group, Palm Beach, FL

Jimmy Lee Tillman II, Founder/President, Martin Luther King Republicans, Chicago, IL

Stephanie W. Trussell, Republican Candidate for LTG Illinois, Lisle, IL

Jesse C. Turner, Senior Pastor, The Historic Elm Grove Baptist Church, Pine Bluff, AR

Bettye H. Tyler, Marvellous Works, Inc., Jackson, MS

Helen Tyner, Parents for a Better Englewood, Chicago, IL

Dr. Eric M. Wallace, Freedom's Journal Institute, Flossmoor, IL

Marcus Watkins, Michigan Republican Assembly, Romulus, MI

Curtis Watkins, Uplift & Restore Community Development Corp., Michigan City, IN

Cindy Werner, State Ambassador, Frederick Douglass Foundation-WI, Milwaukee, WI

Devon Westhill, President/General Counsel, Center for Equal Opportunity, Washington, DC

Jason Whitlock, Host of Fearless with Jason Whitlock, Nashville, TN

Christopher Wilson, Indianapolis, IN

Kuna Winding, Chicago, IL

Corrine Winding, Chicago, IL

Aryca Woodson, Communications Consultant, IN

John Wood Jr., Opinion Columnist, USA Today, Los Angeles, CA

Michael E. Wooten, Former Administrator, Federal Procurement Policy, Woodbridge, VA

Glenn Loury is professor of economics at Brown University.

Robert Woodson Sr. is founder and president of The Woodson Center.

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Occam's Razor (the simplest explanation is usually correct) would say that Cheney saw the GOP departing from everything she represents and did her best to poison every Republican Institution she can touch before she's driven out into the wilderness.

FNC's Peter Doocy To White House: Does The President Think It Is Appropriate To Protest Outside A Supreme Court Justice's Home?

So the Biden Administration thinks it's OK to shadow these Justices, or any other public figure, from location to location to disrupt their lives and possibly expose them to threats. You have a right to peacefully protest but their are restrictions on time, place, and manner...and one of those is a restriction (a law against!) on protesting outside the homes of Justices. So, the Administration is approving and tacitly encouraging illegal behavior. The only reason to protest outside the homes of these Justices is to intimidate them; it certainly isn't aimed at persuading fellow Americans on the issue.

Zelensky: "The End Of The World Has Arrived" I'm Embarrassed This Is Happening In The 21st Century

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Tucker Carlson: Arrest Of Bannon And Navarro Is A Huge Escalation In Democratic Party's Weaponization Of DOJ

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