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reidandweep · 4 years

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No Better Outcome

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- I had a request for a Spencer imagine where the reader was held at gun point by the unsub and Spencer had to talk them down. I said it would be finished last week and posted, but to be honest, I hated how it was so I re-wrote the whole thing. I ca’t remember who requested it either.

Word Count- 2336 words

Warnings- Angst, Fluff, mentions of guns and murder.

“What do we know about this guy?”

Y/N glanced at Reid as she continued to drive to their destination. The team had been called to Baltimore on a case the morning before. Four couples had been found brutally murdered in their homes; located across the city. The team had quickly learnt that all the couples were newly engaged and had very healthy, happy relationships.

“Landon Reeves, aged 24. Garcia looked into each of the couples lives and found that Landon works at the local auto repair shop. Each of the males have visited the shop in the past three months, all complaining about the same problem with their cars; faulty breaks. Landon was the one that handled all the bookings.”

Y/N nodded her head as Reid spoke, taking in the information.

“So, we’ve got a 24-year-old, Caucasian, male who has fixed all four male victims’ vehicles in the last 90 days, which they all coincidentally needed the same job doing. Sounds like to me; Landon might have had his eye on them before they entered the shop. There’s too much coincidence between the couples for him not to have.”

Pulling up to a red light, Y/N turned her head to look at Spencer.

“The murders looked disorganised but were actually very meticulous. All the women were mutilated in the bathroom, but their bodies were tucked into the beds. They were covered and their arms crossed; showing signs of remorse. But the male victims were splayed and left out for all to be seen. He hid the women’s modesty and treated the men like animals.”

Honking drew Y/N from her thought process. Swivelling her body to face the wheel once more, she continued to drive.

Spencer comprehended Y/N’s words.

“Maybe he lost a fiancée or girlfriend? Left him for someone else or even cheated.”

Spencer shook his head.

“Usually, if an unsub targets woman that remind him of an unfaithful partner, the attack towards them would be messy, violent, and have shown forms of sexual assault. This hasn’t occurred here. The women were shot clean through the heart. No signs of sexual assault or torture. Garcia already looked into any past relationships of Landon’s. No spousal deaths or even any signs of a partner from his social media. Ever.”

Y/N pulled up on the curb outside their desired location. They had already checked to see if Landon was at work before they travelled to his home. Speaking to his co-workers at the garage, they were more than sure he was their unsub.

“Well, let’s go do our job Dr Reid. All we can do is question for now.”

Spencer chuckled as Y/N opened the SUV door, sliding out and adjusting her appearance; making sure her gun was secure in her holster. Shaking his head, Spencer stepped out and walked to her side.

Walking side by side as they walked up the steps of the house, the pair stopped at the door; Y/N stepped forward and knocked on the wood.

They waited for any sign of an answer. Spencer looked through the window to see a figure walking towards the door.

The pair stood straight as Landon opened the door.

“Landon Reeves?”

“Speaking?”

Y/N glanced at Spencer as he spoke.

“I’m Dr Spencer Reid and this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. Were from the FBI. We just wanted to ask you some questions.

Landon begun to shift uncomfortably in his stance.

“About what?”

Y/N stepped slightly as she spoke, noticing the increased edge of his tone of voice.

“We just want to ask about a few of your customers. Of course, only if it isn’t a waste of your time.”

Landon stood silently for a while before he allowed them into the house.

Insisting Y/N to go first Spencer kept his eye on Landon, just in case he tried to run for it as they walked inside. He didn’t.

Shutting the door behind Spencer, Landon ushered them into the living room; offering them to take a seat on his sofa.

He gave of waves of discomfort. Fidgeting with his hands, biting his lip, and avoiding eye contact. He was guilty of something. But murder? Y/N wasn’t how sure. Something would have had to make him snap.

Y/N allowed Spencer to take the lead in questioning as she discreetly surveyed the room.

“Mr Reeves, on a weekly basis, how many customers do you have come into the workshop?”

Landon shrugged his shoulders.

“It depends. Some weeks are better than others.”

Spencer nodded his head.

“On average, according to the week, how many cars do you repair which the fault concerns the brakes?”

Landon shuffled in his chair as he uncrossed and re-crossed his arms.

“Only about one or two. We mostly get broken taillight or problem with the exhaust.”

Y/N’s eyes caught the pictures on the fireplace as she pretended to write down Landon’s answers. She knew Spencer would remember what he said word for word, so she had no worry but to focus on surveying the area for any information that could help.

Above the mantel piece sat an array of pictures showing Landon with multiple different people. Pulling out her phone, Y/N texted Garcia requesting details on Landon’s family. Not more than two minutes later, she got a reply.

From the information Garcia found, it seemed Landon had a good family. No problems concerning abuse, abandonment, gambling, nothing. But the description of the family didn’t coincide with two pictures. Landon and his family were all brunette. But he had two pictures on the mantle of him and a young blonde woman; who looked eerily like the victims.

“What does me fixing a few brakes and taillights have to do with the FBI?”

Y/N looked up at Landon at the sound of his agitated question.

Spencer went to answer his question, but before he could, Y/N interrupted the young genius.

“How long have you and your girlfriend been together? You’re a very cute couple.”

Landon looked in the direction that Y/N was pointing. His body became tense for a short moment; his hands clenching in fists. Spencer noticed the change in his demeanour.

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just best friends.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“What’s her name?”

Landon licked his lips as his nerves spiked.

“Celeste.”

“Well, I think you and Celeste would make a cute couple. You should ask her out?”

Y/N walked to stand slightly closer to Landon to gage his reaction.

Landon continued to tense up as Y/N carried on talking and walking closer.

“Or is she already taken? Because she looks an awful lot like three women who have been murdered in the following months. All whom were customers of yours.”

Spencer went to step forward.

“Y/N-“

“Does she not call you back anymore Landon? Cancels your plans? Or doesn’t even bother to make them herself?”

“Shut up.”

Y/N took another step closer.

“Is it because she doesn’t love you back?”

Before another step could be taken, Landon suddenly pulled a gun out from the cushion of his sofa, pointing it towards Y/N.

Spencer quickly drew his gun, aiming it at Landon. He could tell by the look on Y/N’s face that she knew he had a gun the whole time.

“Landon put the gun down.”

Through his earpiece, her heard Hotch’s voice.

“Reid, we’re on our way. Y/N’s mobile is called through to Garcia. We can hear everything, so stay calm.”

Spencer kept his focus on Landon in front of him.

“Landon put the gun down and we can talk, okay? She didn’t mean what she said.”

“Yes, she did!”

Y/N flinched at the sudden raised voice from the unsub. She knew the risk when she began to ask him questions. But there had been lives lost, and she did not want to walk away from this suspect, and another life be taken. She would risk herself always. Spencer knew this and he hated that she would always risk herself to save everyone else.

Spencer glanced at Y/N as he saw her flinch. Looking back at Landon, he saw the boys hand shaking. Keeping his own arm locked and in position, Spencer tried to defuse the situation.

“I know how it feel. To be love someone for so long and so deeply that it rips you apart to know they don’t feel the same way back.”

Landon looked away from Y/N and towards Spencer; tears of frustration falling down his face.

“But just because they don’t love you back the same way doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from Spencer as he spoke.

Landon shook his head, the gun shaking in his grasp, as he repositions it in his sweaty grip.

“She was the best thing about this place. Everyone said we were meant to be together. Everyone! But she left with him. Moved to a whole different fucking state after knowing him for 2 months. We’ve known each other for 14 years. I’ve loved her for 14 years and she left me for someone she’s known for 2 months!”

Reid licked his lips, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He knew this could change things between him and Y/N, but he couldn’t risk the thought of her getting hurt. Or even worse, dying.

“I was 25 when I met her. I’ve been in love with her for over ten years. Watching her with other men, listening to her date stories, being there to help mend her broken heart, and so much more. We’ve been side by side nearly every day. Spending holidays together and birthdays, even when we didn’t need to. I thought for a while she liked me back. But I couldn’t put her through all the issues and problems that I come with.”

Y/N looked at Spencer in disbelief.

“I knew I loved her approximately four months after I had known her. I accepted she didn’t love me back after two years of hoping that she did.”

Spencer to a cautious step towards Landon; watching as the boy’s grip on the gun loosened as he recognised himself in Spencer’s story.

“But I would rather have her in my life every day, in any other way, than to not have her there at all. Because I would miss having someone to watch Doctor Who with when we both can’t sleep. I would miss the lunch trips to the food trucks when work was quiet. I would miss the good morning texts and goodnight messages. I would miss so much that I get in a friendship, that I wouldn’t in strangers of unreciprocated feelings.”

Spencer took another step forward.

“You choose, Landon. But, if you drop your weapon, and let us take you in, Celeste will still see you as her best friend; who she loves dearly.”

Landon looked at Spencer with tears streaming down his cheeks; his lower lip wobbling. Slowly, he lowered his gun, letting Spencer take it from his hands.

Passing the gun behind him, Spencer focused on cuffing Landon as Y/N quietly stepped forward and grabbed the gun.

Just as he clicked the cuffs shut, the rest of the team walked through the door.

Hotch and Luke moved to take Landon from Spencer, as JJ and Tara moved to consult Y/N. Checking her over for any injuries, the women asked if she was okay. Y/N reassured the pair, but she could not waver her stare from Spencer as he watched Landon be escorted out and into the police vehicle.

Sensing the looming conversation, the team all walked outside, leaving Y/N and Spencer in the house alone.

Silence befell upon them.

Y/N walked towards Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder as she spoke.

“Spencer I”

Spencer swivelled around in her grip.

Before Y/N could say anymore, Spencer pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. Quickly interlocking her arms around his neck, the pair basked in each other’s presence. Spencer was the first to pull apart.

“Never put yourself in a situation like that again. You realised he had a weapon and still antagonised him. What would you have done if he had fired? What do you think I would…”

Before Spencer could finish berating Y/N, she grabbed his face between her hands and pulled his lips against her own. Moving her hands to tangle into his hair, Y/N pushed her body flush against Spencer, gasping as his hands instantly moved to grip her hips. Pulling her impossibly closer, Spencer’s mouth moved against Y/N’s feverishly.

The pair slowly pulled apart as they both filled their lungs back with air. Spencer couldn’t help but blush under Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N giggled at the rising pink in his cheeks. Placing a quick peck on his lips, Y/N looked Spencer in the eyes.

“I love you Spence. I have for a really long time. That’s why those other guys never worked out because I was trying to get over you, and I couldn’t.”

Spencer couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss her again.

Once again pulling apart, Spencer rested his head against her own, and allowed for the smile to take over his face.

“I love you too. But please stop putting your life in danger.”

Y/N leaned back and laughed at Spencer’s words.

Glancing out the window, she could see the team almost ready to leave. Y/N pulled herself from Spencer’s embrace.

“Unfortunately, with the job we have, that’s one promise I can’t make.”

Spencer rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Y/N placed her hand in Spencer’s, interlocking the digits.

“Come on, Dr Reid. We got a case to officially close.”

The pair walked out the house hand in hand, as they walked towards their team. Giving Spencer’s hand a squeeze, she let his hand go and she continued to speak to Hotch and Luke, about the details of what occurred.

Spencer stood by her side, listening to her words and interjected when needed. While it wasn’t the exact outcome they expected the case to end with, it sure could not have ended any better.

A/N- I hope you enjoy. I have a few ideas that I’m going to write. One in particular is going to be a more personal one so stay tuned.

Taglist- @danielleslegacy

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years

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True Crime: Best Books to Read

Chase Darkness with Me: How One True-Crime Writer Started Solving Murders by Billy Jensen

Have you ever wanted to solve a murder? Gather the clues the police overlooked? Put together the pieces? Identify the suspect? Journalist Billy Jensen spent fifteen years investigating unsolved murders, fighting for the families of victims. Every story he wrote had one thing in common―they didn't have an ending. The killer was still out there. But after the sudden death of a friend, crime writer and author of I'll Be Gone in the Dark, Michelle McNamara, Billy became fed up. Following a dark night, he came up with a plan. A plan to investigate past the point when the cops had given up. A plan to solve the murders himself. You'll ride shotgun as Billy identifies the Halloween Mask Murderer, finds a missing girl in the California Redwoods, and investigates the only other murder in New York City on 9/11. You'll hear intimate details of the hunts for two of the most terrifying serial killers in history: his friend Michelle McNamara's pursuit of the Golden State Killer and his own quest to find the murderer of the Allenstown Four. And Billy gives you the tools―and the rules―to help solve murders yourself. Gripping, complex, unforgettable, Chase Darkness with Me is an examination of the evil forces that walk among us, illustrating a novel way to catch those killers, and a true-crime narrative unlike any you've read before.

The Case of the Vanishing Blonde: And Other True Crime Stories by Mark Bowden

Six captivating true-crime stories, spanning Mark Bowden's long and illustrious career, cover a variety of crimes complicated by extraordinary circumstances. Winner of a lifetime achievement award from International Thriller Writers, Bowden revisits in The Case of the Vanishing Blonde some of his most riveting stories and examines the effects of modern technology on the journalistic process.

From a story of a campus rape at the University of Pennsylvania in 1983 that unleashed a moral debate over the nature of consent when drinking and drugs are involved to three cold cases featuring the inimitable Long Island private detective Ken Brennan and a startling investigation that reveals a murderer within the LAPD's ranks, shielded for twenty six years by officers keen to protect one of their own, these stories are the work of a masterful narrative journalist at work. Gripping true crime from a writer the Washington Post calls "an old pro."

Killing the Mob: The Fight Against Organized Crime in America by Bill O'Reilly, Martin Dugard

O’Reilly and co-author Martin Dugard trace the brutal history of 20th Century organized crime in the United States, and expertly plumb the history of this nation’s most notorious serial robbers, conmen, murderers, and especially, mob family bosses. Covering the period from the 1930s to the 1980s, O’Reilly and Dugard trace the prohibition-busting bank robbers of the Depression Era, such as John Dillinger, Bonnie & Clyde, Pretty Boy Floyd and Baby-Face Nelson. In addition, the authors highlight the creation of the Mafia Commission, the power struggles within the “Five Families,” the growth of the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover, the mob battles to control Cuba, Las Vegas and Hollywood, as well as the personal war between the U.S. Attorney General Bobby Kennedy and legendary Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa. O’Reilly and Dugard turn these legendary criminals and their true-life escapades into a read that rivals the most riveting crime novel.

I'll Be Gone in the Dark: One Woman's Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer by Michelle McNamara, Gillian Flynn

A masterful true crime account of the Golden State Killer—the elusive serial rapist turned murderer who terrorized California for over a decade—from Michelle McNamara, the gifted journalist who died tragically while investigating the case. "You’ll be silent forever, and I’ll be gone in the dark." For more than ten years, a mysterious and violent predator committed fifty sexual assaults in Northern California before moving south, where he perpetrated ten sadistic murders. Then he disappeared, eluding capture by multiple police forces and some of the best detectives in the area. Three decades later, Michelle McNamara, a true crime journalist who created the popular website TrueCrimeDiary.com, was determined to find the violent psychopath she called "the Golden State Killer." Michelle pored over police reports, interviewed victims, and embedded herself in the online communities that were as obsessed with the case as she was. At the time of the crimes, the Golden State Killer was between the ages of eighteen and thirty, Caucasian, and athletic—capable of vaulting tall fences. He always wore a mask. After choosing a victim—he favored suburban couples—he often entered their home when no one was there, studying family pictures, mastering the layout. He attacked while they slept, using a flashlight to awaken and blind them. Though they could not recognize him, his victims recalled his voice: a guttural whisper through clenched teeth, abrupt and threatening. I’ll Be Gone in the Dark—the masterpiece McNamara was writing at the time of her sudden death—offers an atmospheric snapshot of a moment in American history and a chilling account of a criminal mastermind and the wreckage he left behind. It is also a portrait of a woman’s obsession and her unflagging pursuit of the truth. Framed by an introduction by Gillian Flynn and an afterword by her husband, Patton Oswalt, the book was completed by Michelle’s lead researcher and a close colleague. Utterly original and compelling, it is destined to become a true crime classic—and may at last unmask the Golden State Killer.

#non-fiction #nonfiction #non fiction #true crime #murderinos #true crime books #to read #reading recommendations #Book Recommendations #booklr #tbr #crime #the mob #golden state killer #journalism #reporter #serial killer

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worstvideogamesong-poll · 12 days

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Worst Video Game Song Tournament Semifinals Match 1

This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy - Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku

youtube

VERSUS

Main Theme - Beverly Hills Cop (PC)

youtube

FIGHT!

I would recommend listening to as much as you can of each song before voting, but how you choose is up to you! Remember to be civil in the tags and replies!

Propaganda under cut:

This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy:

"holy shit this song was suppossed to be what vivid bad squad (one of the bands in the game) was trying to surpass their entire first story arc. also this song was pulled out right after taiga (guy singing this song) told them that their idol is dead. and then they lost to Caucasion Destination Boy. jesus christ."

"[This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] is so bad lyrically it's funny. Like, truly a monsterpiece."

"#I'M SORRY THAT'S THE SONG VBS IS TRYING TO SURPASS???? 💀"

"#I KEEP FORGETTING ABT THIS 'SONG' #same energy as im in the house like carpet"

"#HAHA YES IM SO HAPPY CAUCAISAN DESTINATION IS ON HERE #NO WONDER TOYA’S DAD HATES MODERN MUSIC 🔥🔥🔥"

"#HOLY SHIT THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE CAUCASIAN ON THE DASH #AHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA #EVERYONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER THAT SONG WHEN IT DROPPED WAS SO FUNNY"

"#[This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] brought me to tears"

#i thought the title of [This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] was a joke until i played it

"#LETS GO CAUCASIAN #TIME TO THROW YOUR FURB"

"#oh god [This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy] sounds like if imagine dragons had a lobotomy"

"#THIS IS WHERE YOU ARE CAUCASION DESTINATION BALLING SWEEP"

"#dude This Is Where Youre Caucasian is just so bad"

Beverly Hills Cop Theme:

"Hyper compressed and sounds like a dying ice cream truck. Awful to the point where it wraps back around to being good."

"Not going to mention in the propaganda that its the crazy frog song ??"

"#god I fucking love Axel F if it sounded like a crashed GBA so much it's atrocious #and the random stops mid-song"

"#[Beverly Hills Cop Theme] felt like i was listening to my computer have a seizure and die #yup. that video game song sure can bad"

"#yknow beverly hills cop theme is the best rendition of axel f i ever heard #purely because it sounds like getting an mri and i love mris <3"

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theofm · 4 years

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𝐰𝐨𝐰 𝐢'𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 beyond excited for this ! to say i’m rusty is a total understatement , but we here to survive ( not thrive ) in this house while i get reacquainted .. my theme is also a work in progress because tumblr decided to ATTACK me with an invalid html error , but we’re pushing through . anyway , all that aside ? i go by leesh & i’m living it up in the pacific tz ( pst ) . my pronouns are she / her & if you want to find me on discord i’m at 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 🥳#9405 .

* 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐨𝐬 here and do i have the tea for you . theo is back in bridgehampton for the summer , living off the richards’ family $758 million net worth . must be nice to come back home to the hamptons , i wonder what his fellow class of 2017 grads think of his return . you know , he was known around town as the conciliatory and for bhs senior superlatives he was crowned as most likely to become a motivational speaker . i wonder if that still holds true today , a lot can change when you go off to the university of california — los angeles and study political science & international relations . either way , i bet he is still very venturesome , debonair , heedless and boisterous . hopefully this time next year the plans to get a master’s degree & get accepted into the pathways internship program come true . in the meantime , i look forward to seeing him blast 3005 - childish gambino at every hamptons function . it’s going to be a wild summer home , welcome back . ( jacob elordi ) .

. * › statistics .

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : theodore richards 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 : theo 𝐚𝐠𝐞 + 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 : august 29th , 1999 . 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 : virgo 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 + 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 : cis male + he / him 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 : new york , new york 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 : bridgehampton , new york ��𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : heterosexual 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : heteroromantic 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : student 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 : american 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 : caucasian 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : english

. * › background .

— born to jacob & marissa richards , the former a composer & the latter to become a u.s. ambassador , theo was the product of a love story for the ages . originally marissa cardiff , his mother was born into a wealthy and politically tied family . the high-status claim that theo is so accustomed to originated here , privileged having been an understatement . so when she'd fallen in love with an aspiring musician & composer , her family was far from happy . her & jacob hardly cared , believing that they could live a happy life without the wealth and support of the cardiff name .

— insert theo , the pride & joy of their marriage & for a while .. the glue keeping them together . co-parenting was the first of many faults for the older richards , disagreeing on matters constantly & beginning to struggle financially without the support of marissa's parents . for the lifestyle his mother wanted him to have , primed & proper with the best brands to his name , she realized she hadn't set him up for success in this way . the household began to erupt in constant fighting , a battle that a toddler was painstakingly unaware of . jacob's anger issues were becoming more & more prominent , continuing on until marissa eventually deemed her current situation no longer ideal for herself nor for theo . she'd gathered their belongings in the middle of the night & vanished without a trace , knowing that the cardiff name & the power attached to it would be enough to protect them both from any repercussions .

— of course , theo's grandparents welcomed them into their home with open arms . they were simply thankful that their daughter was finished chasing what they saw to be a wild fantasy , a romeo & juliet plot destined for failure from the beginning . from then on , they both lived at the cardiff estate . theo , shoved into a private school uniform & sent to become exposed to a world of money & power , his mother rising in the ranks to eventually earn her spot as a successful u.s. ambassador for the country .

— theo was primed and polished to follow in his mother’s footsteps in politics , the expectations in his life having been clear from a very young age . follow the sought-after path of the his family , or suffer the consequences . his grandparents , though loving , pushed obligations onto their grandson to make a name for himself . they ensured that his father was kept out of his life , battling & paying him off until he had eventually stopped trying to reconnect with his son . they told him not to make the same mistake as his mother , bolstered him on a path to becoming notorious in the field of politics . this came with immense pressures , especially with his own mother's absence due to work ( among other things ) & wholly believing that there was no other path that he was fitted to pursue .

— however , it wasn’t as if his path of politics was unwilling in any way , his participation in various policy projects throughout high school & extra-circulars such as model un had piqued theo's interests in a different area –– politics . as with most things , he’s motivated by doing what he can to please & earn the affection of the people around him . with that being said , working in politics would allow him to accomplish that goal . as incentivized as he is by the notion of making a direct difference on the people around him & his country , with such a line of work comes great pressure .

— while theo was completing school & living with his grandparents , his mother was either away for work or entertaining the likes of what theo had come to know as many different men . following her failed marriage , she became a serial dater of only the most elite & wealthiest that bridgehampton had to offer . eventually , she settled down once again .. but only after theo had grown up for practically his whole life disapproving of the men she was with . his step-father & step-sister joined their family in theo's early high school years , & the four of them packed up & moved from the cardiff estate to a mansion of their own .

— moving across the country to attend school at ucla absolutely changed his life . being exposed to a whole new sea of people did wonders for the boy’s social life , & being away from the pressures of his family made theo feel like he could finally breathe for once . he’s coming back to bridgehampton with loads of new memories & stories to share . still , something about high school resonates with him — he holds the connections he made there closer to his heart , & there was no denying his excitement when it came time to return home . he still holds out hope that maybe one day he’ll be reunited with his dad , but he seemed to have vanished off the planet .

. * › personality .

— the need to fight for attention & acknowledgement from his own family remained strong . from this , a desire to be liked above all quickly emerged . displaying an agreeable personality has always been theo's way of life — partially because the extrovert within him prefers it , but also because of the male's constant seeking of approval from those around him . theo struggles to always be the guy that everyone expects him to be & never stumble or make a public mistake .

— high school was certainly a whirlwind for theo . he was one of those individuals that knew practically EVERYONE , & he exerted effort to make himself particularly likeable to all . he was rarely home , either hitting after-school spots with friends or attending parties whenever they were thrown . he was also involved in various clubs , teams & associations , taking any opportunity to meet people . undoubtedly , he managed to receive quite a bit of romantic attention in high school too , & i would have expected him to date during those years .

— paired with his sociability is a certain level of carelessness that tends to get him in trouble . when he's out of the watchful eye of those around him , he is more than likely to conjure up ��a few schemes despite the risk . he'll jump at any opportunity to follow someone into complete darkness , i really don't know how i produced such an idiot . but , to touch on another side to him –– the hopeless romantic energy is strong in this one . he falls hard & fast , is loyal to a fault & is absolutely a relationship type of guy — even if he’s had his fair share of hookups in high school & at ucla . always being surrounded by people has caused theo to develop a fear of being alone , the root cause behind his attachments to others regardless of the relationship .

— it’s not always easy maintaining his composure . there are many days where theo naturally exudes his personality , genuinely enjoying the company of others & wanting to earn approval from the people he cares about . other times , it proves to be more difficult .. particularly when it comes to controlling his anger & other impulses that can arise when he’s rubbed the wrong way . though his mother & grandparents influence most aspects of his life , his temper is one thing that he inherited from his father . sometimes the thought of bringing dishonour to his family or the repercussions he could face as a result of his actions are enough to settle his irrationality , but every once in a while he loses control . i wouldn't put it past him to have gotten in physical fights or developed some enemies along the way , & his temper could easily lead him to end up in a sticky situation .

— when theo is alone & quiet strikes him , he has a tendency to become buried in the worries & pressures that could very well consume him at any moment . the less he’s by himself , the less he has to think about the future or his fears .. like the possibility of ending up alone . he’ll take any opportunity to be surrounded by people , receiving the social interaction he craves & keeping his mind off of the more negative aspects in his life . if that isn’t an option , theo will turn to spotify or his guitar instead — he’s always played & has found music to help him drown out what he otherwise considers to be the deafening silence that welcomes his deepest & darkest thoughts . once he’s had a night out with those closest to him or he takes time to indulge in his music , he finds it much easier to keep up the demeanour that is always expected of him .

— despite his distaste towards his mother's marriage , the male is rather protective over his step-sister & others that he considers himself closest to . fierce loyalty & protectiveness mixed with his anger are sometimes a recipe for disaster , so i’d watch out for that one .

. * › headcanons .

— aesthetics : blasting music while driving around the city at 3am , setting 5+ alarms and ignoring them all , leather jackets , sneaking out , empty beer bottles , profanity , ray bans , parties , holes in walls , restless nights , takeaway coffee cups .

. * › connections .

if you managed to make it through my rambling mess , i have to thank you . now we get onto the good stuff , huh ? i'm just going to list some of my most wanted connections , but i also love plotting based off chem so you can fully expect me to want to learn everything about your muse in order to do so . without further ado .. here we go !

ex(es) : like i said , theo falls hard & fast & definitely exudes simp energy sometimes . i could see him having dated quite a bit , & i’d be open to ex connections that ended on good terms .. bad terms .. anything at all .

fwb(s) : could be past or present , i mean ? a man has needs DSKJSDNJKSD your muse or him could’ve caught feels which caused them to end it , it could’ve been because he attends school all the way in cali , maybe it’s a new thing now that he’s back in bridgehampton . just gimme ..

bro(s) : theo is honestly SUCH a bro . give me his best guy friends from guy school who he always hung out with .. give me them treating each other’s houses like their own , all the late night shenanigans but the occasional emo talk when things get deep . the more bros the merrier , maybe even a guy squad ?

idk i’m so bad at these , just give me chem based things thanks !

#. * 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 › out of character .#took me long enough and half of u are asleep but #here we are #entitled:intro

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alessandrxs-a · 4 years

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* 𝐇𝐒𝐇𝐐𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊𝟎𝟎𝟓 : 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒏 .

001. name / age / pronouns

lina / 21 / she & her

002. which character(s) do you play?

ale , amon , omari & renee !

003. nationality / ethnicity / timezone

british / caucasian / gmt

004. tell us a bit about your ( home / current ) country / city / etc. your pick

i kinda moved around a lot as kid so nowhere was rly PERMANENT except from i was born & mostly raised in a teeny ass town in yorkshire where everything is old school ( like we even have our own castle , look up conisbrough & u’ll bear witness ) but currently i’m living in staffordshire where my dad’s from & there’s literally nothing to do here ! so most of the time i go venturing off to manchester or smth bc then at least there’s smth to do askjdnasjk but yeah , it’s literally boring . we’re famous for potteries though !

005. favourite color / fruit / season

mint green / apples or strawberries !! / summer bby

006. favourite books + writer whose writing style you admire the most

this is seriously so hard for me bc i love a lot of books but my favourites are probably a toss up between the great gatsby ( we studied that book in college & it’s always been one of my favourite reads ) , the divergent series or the maze runner series ! i rly adore veronica roth’s writing bc i think it’s so simple but it’s also so descriptive & so easy to understand .

007. what kinda music do you listen to + any fave bands / musicians

this is like asking me to choose a favourite child dkjnfddf but honestly my music taste differs ? but to give u a taste , i rly love lauv / bazzi / LANY / the 1975 / YMAS / all time low / fall out boy / selena gomez’s recent album is BOMB ok change my mind / charlotte lawrence / u can’t go wrong with some normani / the weeknd / honestly probably more but i'm doing this one the whim ok pls don’t yell at me dkjnfdffdk

008. what are you doing for a living / what are you studying?

i studied english language , literature , & media in college but now i work in a nursing home & am a care assistant to the elderly !

009. what’s your dream occupation?

right now i would say my end goal would just to develop my career & eventually get into nursing , but idealistic i would like to publish my own book one day if my dumbass can commit to one stupid story line

010. relationship status

single & i couldn’t be happier abt it

011. coffee, tea or hot chocolate?

i have coffee beans coming out of my hears

012. dream holiday destination?

i’m basic & jus wanna go to italy , even if it’s just for the weekend , PLS . but also america or australia

013. the thing you’re most proud about yourself

i would say time management but ik that’s a lie bc i can’t stick to a set schedule to save my own life but ig i’m very dedicated ? i’ve also come out of my shell in recent years which is something younger me would cry abt before doing ( ur girl has an actual PHONE voice now . without STUTTERING . that’s progress my dudes ) so i guess growing into myself & becoming more comfortable in social situations ? idk SKJDFKJNNK

014. tell us a bit about your family!

i have an older sister & a little brother ( who’s rly my half brother & is taller than me , but he’s still younger ) ! i have a lil niece called eliza - mae who is literally a little shit the biggest part of the time but she’s honestly so fucking cute my heart melts every single time i see her . i live with my mum & ( step ) dad & we’re a pretty close family who torment each other’s soul cases out

015. how long have you known your closest friend?

my whole life ( it’s my mum dfkjghkjf )

016. superpower you’d like to have?

to read ppl’s minds so i can channel edward cullen

017. celebrity you’d like to meet?

when i tell u i’ll do anything to meet mbj , i mean anything

018. guilty pleasures

binge watching tv shows that i’ve seen ten million times over , mainly tvd bc stefan salvatore ? i would Die for him

019. pet peeves

ppl talking with their mouth full . like ur lips DO close , u know

020. do you have any hobbies?

does photoshop count ?

021. where would you like to live in the future?

honestly probably australia , when we were in school we did a house hunting thing in TT & me & my friend would jus look at houses in australia that we could never afford 🤷🏼‍♀️

022. tell us a story about a thing that recently happened to you! it can be a funny, scary, sad story, your pick!

idk i’m rly boring djkfndkjf but i once got dragged for having a stefan salvatore based discord ? & then i changed it up to katherine pierce & got called out for trying to be sneaky . u can Never win #itried

#hshqtask005 #naomi i hope ur happy bc even i fell asleep while WRITING this #* ❪ 𝐚𝐝𝐬 ❫ ◞ 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 ⤿ tasks .

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dailydj · 6 years

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I killed Carl Jung

See, this is why I killed him. Doesn’t he kind of just sound like an obnoxious, unlikable person?

There is a big house in my mind, with dozens of rooms, maybe even hundreds; I haven’t peeked inside all of them yet, so I can’t know for sure. One of the doors is made of heavy, polished oak wood, and has a shiny brass doorknob. It creakily swings open, and reveals a room dimly lit by a stone fireplace, and a few oil lanterns scattered about. Tall bookshelves line the walls, the faded books coated in a layer of dust. The floor is wood as well, but mostly concealed by an ornate Persian rug, red fabric with gold trim and designs. A grandiose desk sits on the other end of the room, silhouetted from behind by a grimy old window. Amidst the books and papers strewn across the desk, I see the shadow of an old man.

The man looks up from his work. He’s wearing a white-collared shirt with a gray vest on top, the chain of a gold pocket watch snaking out between the buttons. He is tall, balding but with a trimmed white beard crowding in around his lips. His eyes are sharp and piercing, the brows narrow and suspicious, and his gaze flicks up to examine me.

He’s Caucasian. Why is it that so many of these rooms are filled with old, white men, anyway?

“Um, sorry,” I stutter, feeling like I’m intruding even though, actually, it’s my house. “Who are you?”

He inspects me in silence, then leans forward, resting his chin on pale, bony fingers arranged in the shape of a steeple. “You may call me the Professor. Please, come in. Sit.”

I walk across the room and sit in a tiny wooden chair that’s way too small for me, facing the Professor across his desk. He gazes down at me, and I feel an uncomfortable tingling at the back of my neck, like I’m a museum exhibit pinned under glass. It’s like he’s reading into my mind, which we are, of course, both still inside. The silence ferments unsettlingly for a few minutes. The sweat on the back of my shirt is making it stick to the chair, and I anxiously wonder if I’m supposed to be saying something.

Finally, the Professor clears his throat, and says, “You are more comfortable using logic than listening to your emotions, hm? Yes, and you tend to get lost in your thoughts, and have trouble remaining aware of your surroundings. I’ve seen that you often lose your belongings, and can’t be on time for even the most important engagements. Being around other people makes you uncomfortable, you’d much rather stay inside on your computer all day. Hrmm...let’s see now...I would have to say you must be an INTP. A Logician. People like you have an enormous capability to take in information, and synthesize it into complex systems. Some might say you’re more like a robot than a human; but who says that has to be a bad thing? The weakness of human emotion just doesn’t apply to you like it does to everyone else. With your incredible mind, if you train it properly, you can one day come to know all that there is to know.”

I sit listening in wonder. His words seem to flow into an empty region of myself, filling up some vacant receptacle called my identity. It feels so comforting, so fulfilling to have four simple letters I can hold on to that encapsulate who I am. All the things that I thought were wrong with me, all the ways I’d failed to measure up in the past, seem much less painful with the knowledge that there are others with this label on them, just like me.

A sudden twinge of guilt pangs at my chest. There’s someone else, in one of the rooms upstairs, who I was supposed to let fill my feeling of identity. He promised that He would give me a new identity, that He was transforming me into a new and perfect creation. But His work has been taking forever! I need an identity now, because in my first month at university, I’ve been meeting people who are so unique and interesting and confident in themselves, and I feel so boring by comparison.

I come back to visit the Professor the next day, and the next, and keep coming back for weeks, which eventually turn into months. I sit at his desk in my tiny chair, and he teaches me all about his classification system, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I learn more and more about myself every day, the things I can and can’t do, the people that I can and can’t be in relationship with, and slowly learn to love this new identity I’ve been given. Sometimes, I miss the old me who was allowed to love and care for people just because they were inherently valuable. But INTPs only value information, and people simply as a means by which to acquire more of it.

I still go to the room upstairs to visit my friend every once in a while, but I don’t tell Him about the Professor. He wouldn’t understand it, He’s always talking about each of His creations being perfectly unique, no two exactly alike. One day, about two years after I meet the Professor, I am visiting my friend upstairs, and He stops me in the middle of our conversation. “DJ,” he says, “I think it would be good for you to leave the house for a little while. Go outside, see what’s out there. I know how much you love learning; maybe you’ll find something new!”

I reluctantly comply, and pack my bags. I get on a bus, and find myself sitting next to another guy, a Chinese-American boy about my age, with a wide grin always plastered across his face. “Ah, you know about the Myers-Briggs?” he asks me. “I took a test online once. I’m an INFJ!”

It takes me about fifteen minutes of talking to him to decide that he’s wrong. He’s loud, overbearing, always trying to start a conversation when I’m trying to sleep. He can’t entertain complex logical systems the way I can, oftentimes getting impatient and resorting to simpler conclusions. I smirk at him with a skeptical glare, filled with condescension at this boy’s lack of self-awareness. We ride together for what feels like forever, and eventually he realizes I’m not looking for a conversation and falls into silence. The next couple hours are much more peaceful, and I’m free to retreat back into my head and wander through the halls.

We arrive at our destination, I’m not even sure where, but I’m forced to share a bunk bed with the boy from the bus. I groan inwardly. It’s late, though, and I go straight to bed without a word to my new roommate.

I dream that I’m on a tiny fishing boat, in the middle of the ocean. There are four other guys in the boat with me, laughing and having a good time. I sigh, and look out across the water bored out of my mind. I squint at the line where the water meets the sky, and see a great darkness suddenly rushing up out of it. Soon it has completely enveloped the sky, covering up the sun. We’re in the middle of a huge thunderstorm, and the waves are a hundred feet tall on every side. Rain is pouring down on us, and my companions are panicking, trying desperately to paddle through the current and bail out our tiny boat with a bucket.

Through the rain and whipping wind, I see a man, in shining white robes, walking on the water towards us. Everyone in my boat shouts with joy when they see him, and one by one, nervously step out of the boat onto the waves to walk towards him. He grabs each one by the hand, pulling them to safety close by his side, and soon I am the only one left in the boat.

I try to stand up, but I can’t seem to move my legs. I look down; they’re frail and shriveled, numb to any feeling, and completely useless. I cry out to my companions, to come and help me out of the boat, and one of them turns around. It’s my roommate, the boy from the bus. I scream and wave my hands, but he only looks confused. He’s looking as hard as he can, but it’s like his gaze goes right through me. I’m invisible.

Desperately, I try to drag myself over the edge of the boat with my hands, and splash into the water. I’m sinking, sinking, and as I stare upwards I see the bright light from the man’s robes fading, and I fall further and further from the surface. Finally, my body comes to rest on the ocean floor, and I’m completely

Alone. Dark shadows float around me, silhouettes of seaweed and looming sea creatures. There’s no breath passing between my lips, and I feel resigned to my fate, to sit there in silence for all eternity. My head is resting uncomfortably against a rock, the icy water chilling me to the bone. I dig my fingers into the cold sand, and feel them brush against metal. I lift a small object out of the ground, and feel it to find its shape. It’s a small revolver. Perhaps this is the only way out of here, I think. I lift the gun against my head, and --

I open my eyes. There’s sunlight streaming through a window beside me. I can breathe again. I rub my eyes, and stare at the underside of the top bunk bed above me. After a few minutes of hesitation, I get up and peek over the side of the top bed. My roommate is already gone, though, the sheets neatly folded back into place. I sigh, and sit back down on my bed.

A few days later, I’m back on the bus, ready to go home. I make sure to be the last one on board so I can find a seat by myself. I stare out the window the entire time.

When I get back to my house, I hurl my bag onto the floor of the entryway, and go straight to the Professor’s study. I knock on the solid oak door. “Come in,” he says.

I walk up to his desk, but don’t sit on my tiny chair. “Didn’t have a good time?” he asks snidely. “Figures, after all, you are a--”

I snatch the revolver out of my pocket, point it square against his forehead, and pull the trigger.

BANG! His body hits the floor, blood spilling out onto the red and gold carpet, and I drop the gun and run upstairs in tears.

So, that’s the story of why I killed Carl Jung. His body is still there, in case you’re wondering, in that dusty old room in the house inside my head. I hear his ghost murmuring sometimes, saying stupid stuff like “Ah, see, he can’t get any work done because of his inferior-Te” or “She’s being really obnoxiously energetic right now, must be an Se-dom”. Don’t get me wrong; I think MBTI is really cool, and it really did help me connect with people, and to understand myself and others through one season of my life. But recently I’ve just realized that it’s become a vehicle for me to just criticize people and be okay with that, disguising it as “trying to type them”. So I decided I’m taking a little break from the Myers-Briggs -- sort of like “fasting”, if you will. That room in my house will remain unoccupied, for now, though maybe God will someday bring me a new occupant to fill the room who’s a little bit less of a d-bag.

I’m beginning to see the very tiny beginnings of a new mindset I think God is leading me into - one in which every relationship is built on a foundation not of perfection, but of grace. A view of people in which each person is actually created perfectly and uniquely, and where, underneath all the layers of brokenness and scarring and sin corruption, there is a true identity that reflects a small part of the full, boundless glory of God. I don’t know what it’s gonna look like for me to get from here to there, and I still don’t even really know what “grace” really means, but I’m confident that He’s making something new in me. And sometimes, in order for something new to come, something old needs to die.

#mbti #story #christian #dream #intp

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jacobmybeloved · 6 years

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Little Lamb - Ch.1 {Farcry 5 fanfic/prequel/OC Deputy}

Before you begin reading please refer to this post:

It gives a brief description of the story and possible triggers.

The target was in her sights. Nayeli took a deep breath as she drew back on the string of her bow, her eyes gazing down the shaft of the arrow. It was midday, and the Montana sun was beating down heavily on her. A dip into the river sounded like a great plan once she took care of the “rodent” problem. Some turkey vultures had set up shop on the roof of her mother’s hunting supply shop, swooping in on would be customers if they got too close. Nayeli figured she was doing her mother a favor.

She released the nook and bowstring, allowing the arrow to soar to its rightful destination. The vultures caught wind of the impending danger, but one was not able to make it off the roof as quickly as their comrades. The arrow pierced easily through its body, slumping down the slope of the roof to the ground. “Yes!” Nayeli cheered. That should scare the others away for now until they could come up with a permanent solution to keep them away.

Archery was her favorite pastime, though her mother wished she had chosen something more “practical”. Nayeli turned her head as she heard tires rolling across the gravel towards the shop. A woman jumped out of the truck immediately, eyes wide, her mouth already running at a hundred miles an hour, hands gesturing in the air. “Nayeli Lamb, what you think you’re doing!” Even screaming, Nayeli thought her mother to be one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen. Her Salish characteristics stood out amongst the rest of the residents in Hope County: her raven black hair was in a single braid today, whooshing left to right as she marched towards her daughter, her tawny skin complimented by the glow of the sun, brown eyes the color of milk chocolate. While Nayeli shared many of her mother’s physical characteristics, her eyes were hazel and her hair was more reflective of her father’s genes. Though still dark, in the sun, hints of brown showing through. Her skin was also a tad lighter, once again, attributed to having a Caucasian father. It was part of the reason they decided to move away from their original reservation: children could be cruel, and at times violent, especially against the young Nayeli who they lovingly nicknamed “moon-walker” – poking fun as her parentage. Once her mother was within arms reach, she yanked the bow from her hands, exasperated. “How many times have I told you not to use this without my supervision.”

Nayeli’s kept her head up as she stared at her mother head on, “I know, but I thought I would surprise you-you know?” she smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the dead vulture laying at the foot of the shop. Her mother sighed, rubbing her eyes with her index and thumb respectively. “Nayeli…I’m not worried about the vultures. I am worried about what someone would have done if they saw a child without their parent wielding THIS.” Her mother tossed the bow to the ground. “Your father is making this custody battle hard enough. I asked you to look after the shop for one hour. We cannot afford to lose it, Nayeli..” She could see her mother doing her best to remain calm, but she could see her eyes begin to squint, holding back the feeling of tears. “I cannot afford to lose my only child.”

The divorce had been finalized over a year ago. Things weren’t going well for her parents for a long time, but they stayed together for her sake. After the death of her brother, it seemed like the last straw. Nayeli’s father had been adamant about getting her to move out to California with him after the divorce. Better schools, more opportunities, financial security. Sounded like a bore, to be honest. She enjoyed running the hunting supply store with her mother, though it did mean she often missed school. Her mother worked graveyard as a waitress, but this store was their main source of income. The guilt of adding more stress to her mother’s load was beginning to sink in. “I’m sorry mom. It won’t happen again.” Nayeli removed the quiver from her back, handing it to her mother. Her mother sighed and set the quiver down, bringing Nayeli into an embrace.

“It’s okay. Just…please be more mindful of what you’re doing.” Her mother ran her hands through her hair as she placed a kiss on Nayeli’s forehead. As her mother pulled away, Nayeli could see another vehicle pulling up to the storefront. The word SHERIFF was embedded into the side of the vehicle, which would have normally struck some sort of discomfort into others, but Nayeli could not help but smile. An older man stepped out from the vehicle: he had a bit of a gut, and he hid his receding hairline with his sheriff’s hat, but Sheriff Whitehorse had a kind face, and this was just a routine stop for him. He removed his hat as he approached, Nayeli’s mother turning to him with a smile. Everyone in the county knew Whitehorse had the most severe case of puppy love when it came to Nayeli’s mother from the moment they met so many years prior. He would often stop by the shop under the guise of the interest in buying a new handgun, but Nayeli knew he stopped by mostly just to see her mother. “Sokanon. Nayeli. How are my two favorite ladies doing?” Whitehorse gazed curiously at the bow and quiver laying on the ground and then to the corpse of the turkey vulture some yards away. “We’re well Earl. Just..having some mother-daughter bonding.”

“If you want to call it that.” Nayeli snickered. Sokanon glared, but in a playful way at her daughter. “Go inside the house and wash up. I’ll close up the shop and we can order some pizza for dinner.” Nayeli smiled, “Extra cheese?” Her mother laughed and held her close to her before letting go. “Extra cheese. Just for you.” Nayeli gleamed. Even in their worst moments, Nayeli and her mother usually made up within minutes. Before going into the house, Nayeli turned to the Sherriff. “Would you like to join, Sherriff?” Whitehorse was always kind to her family, even if her father was not very receptive to him. He probably could see the feelings he had for his wife radiating off his aura after all. If they ever had issues with anything, Whitehorse was usually the first to offer his full-fledged support. If he and her mother ever got together, Nayeli would not object, though she was not sure if the feelings were reciprocated anywhere close on her mother’s part.

Sokanon gave Nayeli a raised brow at the request before turning to the Sherriff. “I don’t mind. There’s always room at our table for you, Earl.” The Sheriff’s face, though already red just from sun exposure on the job, turned an even deeper shade. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I would be honored but I don’t want to intrude.”Sokanon walked towards the Sherriff, placing a hand on his shoulder. Nayeli could see his grip on his hat grow tighter. “It would be our honor to have you for dinner Sherriff, I insist.”Nayeli wasn’t sure if she should walk away at this point because number one, seeing men pining after your mother was always awkward in the first place, but now she was beginning to think that there may be mutual feelings. Not that she would mind if they did end up started dating. Her mother deserved to have something nice. Someone nice.

Whitehorse glanced at Nayeli as if looking for some sort of approval or gesture of what to say. Nayeli raised both thumbs, nodding. Earl cleared his throat once more smiling. “My shift is over in forty minutes. I’ll clean up and be right over.” For the most part, Sokanon’s back was turned towards Nayeli as she spoke to Whitehorse, but she could see her smile from where she stood. It was the most genuine smile she had seen in a long while.

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

Nayeli and her mother resided in the residential suite above the shop. It was a tight fit but Nayeli did not mind. Despite the living room having more room obviously to sit upstairs, her mother and the Sherriff took residence downstairs in the shop in the seating area designated or husbands or wives who were dragged along to look at weaponry. She could hear her mother’s laughter through the floorboards. Dinner had been over for over two hours now, but Sokanon and the Sheriff retreated downstairs to have some privacy to “chat”. Thank the Lord because if anything more were to happen, Nayeli would like to be exempt from hearing it. Nayeli’s room was simple: wooden paneled walls, pictures of her favorite bands, hunting magazines spread across her floor, mattress on the floor, and a desk with textbooks slowly accumulating dust. Nayeli was sitting cross-legged on her bed, shuffling through her CDs deciding what to play next on her portable cd player. Most of her music variety came from the 40’s to early 50’s. She had some contemporary music, but she found the oldies to be preferable. She continued debating on what to listen to when she heard a light tap at her window.

At first, she thought she was just hearing things but it was followed by another tap. Nayeli groaned as she dragged herself from her bed. She looked out and saw the figure of a boy standing down below, smiling and waving up at her. Nayeli smiled when she realized just who it was. She slid the window up and stuck her head out. “Staci Pratt, what are you doing here?” She did her best to keep her voice down. Despite her mother seemingly having the best of times downstairs, she did not want to risk the chance of her hearing her and Pratt talking. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d just say hi.” Pratt grinned. “You’re a terrible liar, Pratt.” Nayeli giggled. “You’re right. So are you going to let me up or what.” Nayeli took one of the pebbles that landed on the edge of the roofing and threw it down back at him, nearly missing him. “Are you nuts, my mom will kill me if she knew you were here.”

“Even better. The higher the risk, the better the reward,” he teased. Nayeli groaned. “You are the most ridiculous boy I’ve ever met. Don’t you have finals to prep for or something?”

Nayeli was only a few months older than Pratt, but because she missed so much school to begin with helping her mother run the shop, she had been held a couple times. He would be graduating within the next two months while she would barely be finishing her junior year. Guess getting her GED was always an option.

“You are…not wrong,” he beamed. “I wanted to ask actually…some of the guys are throwing a bonfire after graduation at the end of the semester to celebrate. Would you be interested in going? I mean, with me?” Nayeli rested her arms on the window seal, enjoying every moment of Pratt becoming flustered. Pratt was one of the few boys her age she actually found attractive, not that there was a large variety here in Holland Valley. He was a decent student, but at the same time had a bad boy vibe, but he seemed like he’d be too much of a huge flirt for anything serious. He was though probably the closest person she had to a best friend.

“Depends. Who’s all going?”

“Well, us obviously. Mary May possibly. Some of the oldies: Nick Rye, his girlfriend Kim. You know, most of the graduating class should be there. Boshaw said he would bring the fireworks and alcohol. We’re shooting for just outside of the reservation, so the cops don’t catch on and shut it down. Everyone knows the reservation’s security is lackluster anyway.”

Nayeli stood up, “Hold on, rewind. Boshaw? That Sharky guy? Isn’t he a bit old to hang out with a bunch of high school graduates? Plus, hasn’t he been arrested like a million times for arson?”

Pratt laughed and shook off her concern. “I mean, it was all in good fun. Sharky is a cool guy, you just gotta get past his weird humor.” Nayeli was all for a fun time, but this was sounding a bit risky especially adding fire, alcohol, and teenagers into the mix. “I don’t know Pratt…my mom has been on my ass lately, especially with…with everything going on between her and my dad.” Pratt looked disappointed, but he knew better than to push the matter further. “It’s cool. Maybe you and I can hang out another time. Maybe your mom’s place for a milkshake? After graduation? Start off the summer on a good note.”

Nayeli smiled, and that seemed to trigger one for Pratt as well. “Yeah, I like that plan.” Pratt nodded and looked around sheepishly. “Well, you have a good night Nayeli.”

“You too Pratt,” she spoke as she slid her window back down. She sat back on her bed, sort of staring off into space. Maybe, just maybe, if she was out front about it and asked, her mother would let her attend the bonfire. She knew she would have to leave out some minor details, such as possible underage drinking taking place, and resident arson Sharky Boshaw being present. There was no harm in asking though, and she had the end of the month to work up the courage. For now, she did not want to work up her mother any more than she was already though that did not seem to be a problem at the present moment. Nayeli could still hear her mother’s laughter from downstairs. The sound brought a smile to her own face as she laid her head down to sleep.

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*Month and a half till the Bonfire*

“Nayeli. Nayeli!”

Nayeli groaned as she raised her head from her pillow. The blurry figure of her mother stood over her as she tried to focus her vision on the alarm clock beside her mattress. The ominous red numbers read 3:08am. On what planet was this an acceptable time to be awake on a Saturday morning.

“Nayeli, I have to go to the diner. One of the girls called in. Do you think you can open up and keep an eye on the shop until I get home?” Her mother was still in the process of getting ready it looked like. She just finished tying her white apron around her waist and was now securing her flowing hair into a messy bun secured at the top of her head. “Yes mom, I believe I can manage,” she mumbled as she stuffed her face back into her pillow.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Sokanon kissed Nayeli on the back of her head. Nayeli turned her head just in time to hear her mom mumble to herself before shutting the door to Nayeli’s bedroom. “Things will get better. I promise.” Whether it was directed to herself or Nayeli was up for debate.

Nayeli laid in silence for a few moments. Now was not the time for an existential crisis. But her mom’s words were like a gong going off in her head. She knew her mother must have felt some guilt for keeping her from completing high school like a normal teenager, but they were not a normal family. While her father was off in California in his bungalow or whatever, she and her mother were here struggling to stay afloat. It had been easier when her brother was…was still here. Not by much but his mere presence made things seem better. He had worked as a local car mechanic, and the boy could light up the room with his smile. Best mechanic in Hope County people would say. Bright future he had ahead of him. He would have graduated last year. Gone at the hands of a drunk driver. It was no wonder her mother seemed so high strung lately. This was a stressful time, to begin with, and now with her father breathing down their necks with wanting Nayeli to move to California to live with him instead.

Things will get better. I promise.

I know mom, she thought to herself.

Falling back asleep became more of a hassle than it was worth following her reflective episode. Nayeli sat up in bed and looked at her alarm clock. 4:43am. Might as well get this day started. Nayeli spent the next couple hours before opening the store tidying upstairs; one less thing for her mother to worry about when she came home. Not that there was much to clean, to begin with. They did not have much in terms of material items. The most extravagant item Nayeli owned, to be honest, was her portable cd player. Every ounce of the coin they had gone into this shop and keeping it open. It was a worthwhile investment when Sokanon and Nayeli’s father first married. Despite being in the middle of the wild, open country, Hope County did not really have a lot of places to buy hunting supplies. Sokanon would speak to Nayeli of how her people descended from skilled hunters which first inspired her to take up archery. Nayeli’s father cared less about the passing down of tradition and more of making a profit to keep the family afloat. Nayeli did not know all the details, just because she had no real interest but apparently, state-government interference with hunting laws kept people from being able to hunt, which dragged the business down to the current slump they were in. Money became an issue which sparked arguments, arguments sparked into pure disdain for each other, and that disdain was amplified with her brother’s death, thus ending in her parent’s divorce.

Nayeli did not hate her father for leaving. She simply just did not really care for him. Last time they spoke a few months ago, he had already started up a new business and was raking in the money, thus, why he wanted her to live with him instead of Sokanon. Nayeli could never get her mother to admit it but she knew her mother sacrificed a lot for her family: moving away from the reservation in the first place for the sake of Nayeli, the fact that she was subjugated to hate from her own tribe for marrying a “white devil”. All Sokanon had was Nayeli, and if cleaning up the house and keeping the shop operating helped her mother, then goddamn she was going to do it.

Apparently, cleaning had taken longer than expected because the next time she looked at a clock, it was 8:04am. Already four minutes past opening time. Shit. Nayeli did not even have time to fully get dressed. She threw on the basics: bra, tank top, and yoga pants and pulled her long-ass hair into a low-ponytail before sprinting downstairs. She had barely flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN and unlocked the door when already she spotted a trio of older guys walking up. She recognized them immediately. These were the boys from the reservation who had given her the kind nicknamed “Moon-walker” when she was little. What the fuck are they doing here? She’s had her run-ins with them before, but it’s been a couple years since she last saw them.

Nayeli stepped back from the door as they entered. Mischief was written over their face. The leader of the group grinned as he took her image in. “Well, someone aged well didn’t she.”

Nayeli felt disgusted by his comment before getting straight to the point “What do you guys want.”

“There’s been a rumor going around that the locals are planning a bonfire at the end of the month. Problem is, they’re planning to have it on the edge of the reservation.”

Nayeli could see where this was going. “-and the reservation is dry.” AKA, alcohol was forbidden. “Precisely.” He replied.

Nayeli shook her head. “And? What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, you see moon-walker, we know reservation security is too lazy to actually uphold our values, so we are taking matters into our own hands. We figured you could pass the warning along.” At this point, the other two guys were browsing the variety of knives and guns enclosed away in the glass cases. Nayeli scoffed, “You’re joking. You’re going to shoot up the bonfire because they have alcohol?” The guy wasted no time getting into her face. He had at least a foot over her. “They’re on reservation land. Technically, we’re free to do whatever we want to them. And if they’re going to go into our territory, and disrespect our rules, then we’re going to react accordingly. So, you’re going to sell me something, so that I can act “accordingly.”” He chest bumped her at this point, which she was not expecting so she stumbled back, ending up with her back to one of the other fellows.

“I’m not selling shit to you assholes. Get out of my store. Now.”

“Oh, so it’s your store now. Thought your white-devil loving mother owned it- “

Nayeli wasn’t sure what she was thinking but by the time the palm of her hand slapped the ever-loving hell out of the main guy, she immediately felt some form of stupidity as the two other guys grabbed her by her arms, holding her in place.“You fucking bitch-“the one who just got bitch slapped looked like he was revving up to knock the life out of her when the bell to the front door rang, indicating a customer entering. It was a low, stoic voice. Almost like a growl. “Is there a problem here?” Everyone’s attention turned to the gentleman standing in the doorway. Nayeli’s eyes widened.The man was at least six feet tall, if not taller, built sturdy, reddish hair, dressed in what looked like army fatigues with J.SEED labeled on his right side. What was most noticeable were what looked like scars, or…some kind of rash on his arms and hands.

The two boys with their hands on Nayeli let go and stood beside their designated goon leader. He made a gesture to speak but the stranger raised his hand slightly, making a “nuh uh” gesture. “I suggest that whatever cogs are turning in that head of yours should probably decide that marching your ass out that door right now is going to be the wisest thing you do today.” It took less than actual seconds before the three idiots were out of the store. Nayeli’s hands reached up to the hand imprints left on her arms as she stared at the stranger, who was now casually browsing the store. “Sir…” He must’ve not heard her because he continued to browse. His eyes seemed calculated, focused. “Sir..?” Nayeli didn’t know why but when he turned to her she jumped back slightly. His gaze was intense, his eyes a shade of piercing blue she had never seen before. His face was covered in the same rash and scars that decorated his arms. She swallowed nervously, “I-thank you for your help.” The stranger said nothing but kept his gaze on her. This was incredibly awkward. After what seemed like a whole minute of staring, he spoke.

“Knife.”

“What?”

“How much for the knife.” He pointed to one in particular inside one of the cases.

“Oh. Give me one second.” Nayeli made her way around the counter and opened the case. Lifting the knife, she told him the price. It was just shy of the quadruple digits. A hard sell for sure. She placed it on the counter for the gentlemen to examine. As he reached for it, she could not help but notice his scars more in detail. What sort of hell had this man been through? His hands alone were large enough to snap her in half if he wanted to. His examination of the knife was followed by more awkward silence. What he did next made her gasp: he drew the blade across the palm of his hand, not too hard, but enough that it sliced through it like a knife through warm butter. For some reason, this brought what sounded like a sound of satisfaction from him. “Hmph.”

Nayeli was not sure what to do at this point, nor was she sure how to react when he pulled out two-thick rolls of cash from his pocket and set them on the counter. Nayeli knew that was way too much. “It will take me a moment to get you change sir, I have not opened the safe yet today.” The man glanced at her as he placed the knife into a holster that seemed like it was always meant to hold that knife. Like it was fate. “Keep the change…miss…?” Was he asking her name? She figured she could give him that much considering he saved her from a possible black eye, or worse. And his generous over-payment. “Nayeli. My name is Nayeli Lamb.”

“Nayeli Lamb.” He spoke, pronouncing each syllable individually. “Jacob Seed. My brothers and I are rather new here…any interesting points of interest, little lamb?”

#farcry 5 #farcry 5 fic #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #oc deputy #nayeli lamb #farcry 5 prequel #little lamb #fan fiction

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rennyji · 3 years

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July 16th Mid Afternoon Tweets...

Milliard organic cacao power is got to be the cleanest chemical free healthiest version of this superfood…can find it on Amazon...

The song “Take It Off” by Kesha- the highlight of my Thursday evening…

Doesn’t this look like Kenny from South Park: ((><))

Whatever happened to Avril Lavigne? Liked her songs “What the hell?” and “Skater Boy.”

Heard some Mariah Carey Songs, like “Obsessed” or “Touch My Body”…there just aren’t enough Mariah Carey’s…

“Aisha” - by Outlandish- another great song…

“La Vida Es Bella” music video…love the looks and moves of the female singer…

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On Monday, after eating lunch, I shook hands with this guy named "Wah." He’s Asian, friendly, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the martial artists that Master Roshi grew up with, in the Dragon Ball series, when he was fighting King Piccolo…-

-that is one cool dude, and if he does know martial arts, I hope he’ll patiently teach me...

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so a thought...-

So there’s a Biblical saying, “Anyone who loves father, mother, etc. more than Me will not inherit “The Kingdom.” Let’s assume “The Kingdom,” in this context is, “salvation”. Let’s look at it in the perspective of people who follow instructions or impulses to harass others, or the orchestrators doing this Elleven+ years phenomena. You may crave escaping punishment for this or getting the best stuff in life, but if you know what ur doing is wrong to reach your favored destination, with the sole intent of saving ur a*s, not only do you risk the ultimate Salvation, but you also risk the earthly safe place you may be seeking. Why? Because you love your own interests more than what is intrinsically right. Doing what’s right results in its own reward. If you think doing the wrong thing is the only way you see “out of something”, then there’s another Biblical saying to keep in mind: “if ur eye causes you to sin, then cut it out, for it is better to go though life with one eye, then your whole being, or all of you, being thrown into Gehenna I.e. hell or eternal damnation. This does not mean to literally cut off ur eye. But, in order to do the right thing, if you have to risk getting in trouble, people thinking ill of you, or going to jail or whatever, then that is better in the long run, then your loved ones being cursed and you experiencing eternal damnation. Aim for the right thing in life, whatever the cost, for what your Father sees “in secret” or from the good of your heart, will be rewarded in time.

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so, another thought...-

So in 30 years of life, Ive run into all sorts of people. Particularly people of particular positions…when it comes to those in power, Americans tend to have an open mind/adventurous nature to protocols vs. immigrants or their non American born counterparts, who practice strict adherence to protocols. Now, in life, the open mind gives soul to your work. What makes some of the non native Americans practice strict adherence? I mean there’s nothing wrong with strict adherence, but you gotta look at it from their perspective. These people represent those of their background. They are role models, they are people who struggled past biases and various obstacles to reach the highest point of some places. Discipline and hard work defines them. They may be experiencing the reward of a life of struggle. I mean when you think American, you think toward an easy supportive family/financial background, especially of Caucasians. Maybe they really don’t have to struggle that much with at least biases because they are the stereotyped face of the modern world. Among immigrants and minorities, it is thought, if nothing else, that stereotyped Americans, have at least the bare minimum of financial support. In a country with everything, this may encourage liberal adventurous or open mindedness to rules, regulations, and protocols-that said, there can be situations where that goes too far and causes problems. Life is about balance.

What’s an example of what I’m saying? I was recently at Macy’s where a manager was hell bent on getting me to return something online for the sake of protocol that she didn’t think with an open mind and heart. If her register was not working and they don’t have IT support, the obvious thing would be to encourage someone to try another register. As she sees me going to another register from afar, she decides to follow me and watch me from a distance…wtf…really takin that protocol cr*p to a whole new level. Am I something from the street for you to monitor? Do you know how much I’ve wasted on that mediocre establishment, riding on the image of expensive quality from years ago? So that’s mindless rule following on an extreme level where I don’t know what demon possessed her or what installed mental pair of glasses or extraneous information she was seeing me through.

Then there’s Brother O’Conner from my time at the Iona Prep high school. He belongs to the order of Irish Christian Brothers. For collecting enough cans for the Thanksgiving drive, he rewarded the entire school with a day off, despite allocation of day offs for snow days and having a set amount of school days a year. Everyone enjoyed, teachers adjusted, and no problems erupted from this deviation of protocol. Brother O’Conner passed on, and although I only viewed him from a distance, he lives in my memory in the magical like reward, of a day off, for doing something good. I mean, then there was another Brother who took over, after Brother O’Conner left. No stories like the aforementioned to remember with the second Brother and the personality wasn’t lively. If you want to be in the minds and heart of people, or make a difference, you need to ask questions, not be blind followers, and understand the “meaning and purpose” of rules in place of mechanically being obedient to them.

I mean when modern day youth think of religion or Christianity, they think it’s rules and regulations that judge you, make you feel like cr*p, and that can be summed up with “don’t do this/don’t do that…” but religion is more and primarily about enhancing your mind to believe and achieve anything in this life.

Christ was a rule challenger. In the face of the laws of Judaism in His time, He says, In Matthew 5:17-18, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” What does it mean to fulfill the law and prophets? It means Christ wants us to rise above mechanical following of rules. I believe the law in His time says to stone prostitutes. I mean does anyone choose to be a prostitute? At the same time, a prostitute may have more humanity in them than their priestly counterparts. Hence the story of Mary Magdalene. She was about to be stoned by the Jewish elders, according to law, or tradition, but Christ’s sees her heart, who she is inside amidst all those layers. He experiences compassion- a trait not common to Americans or police or some doctors or professors or whatever. (I think it was Shrek who said people are like onions: they have layers.) On the surface, yes, Mary Magdalene a prostitute. But she may have potential for a kind loving heart, an open mind, a potential for greatness. On the basis of the notion of love for all human beings, Christ challenges tradition/law, miraculously writes up the sins of the Jewish elders for them to see, and says, “ let the one without sin cast the first stone.” Mary Magdalene ended up being one of Christ’s most faithful followers. Jewish tradition/law had biases toward tax collectors because they were depicted as greedy, working with foreigners, and overexerting their authority among people. Christ took in, even a tax collector, to be one of his 12 Apostles…-12 Apostles, because, if I remember correctly, it had to do with the 12 tribes of Israel.

Point being in all this, go beyond mechanical rules, regulations, traditions. In life there is only one rule: The Golden Rule-“Love God first and foremost, and your neighbor as yourself.”

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