#the boys and girl from county clare | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellamer · 2 years

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Songs On My Playlist I Think Kaidan Alenko Would Like:

Them Changes by Thundercat

Pavement by Harness

Trouble Man by Marvin Gaye

Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet

Careless Whisper by George Michael

Shake Your Groove Thing by Peaches and Herb

Losing My Mind by Mystery Skulls

Faint by Linkin Park

Faust by Paul Williams

Wires by The Neighborhood

Face by Brockhampton

Addicted To You by Avicii

Weird Part Of The Night by Louis Cole

Can I Really ? By Von Smith

Stop The World, I Wanna Get Off With You by Arctic Monkeys

Four Out of Five by Arctic Monkeys

Tom's Diner by Suzanne Vega

Moonage Daydream by The Last Shadow Puppets

I Don't Know by BADBADNOTGOOD

Man of War by Radiohead

Gospel of The Throttle by Minutes Til Midnight

Suga Suga by Baby Bash

Cold by Annie Lennox

Calm Like You by The Last Shadow Puppets

Sweet Dreams TN by The Last Shadow Puppets

I Periodically Lull by Mississippi Voss

Break My Stride by Matthew Wilder

Torched Song by The Real Tuesday Weld

Can I Call You Rose ? by Thee Sacred Souls

Weak For Your Love by Thee Sacred Souls

Will I See You Again ? by Thee Sacred Souls

Change by Deftones

Back on The Chain Gang by The Pretenders

As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese

Seasons (Waiting On You) by Future Islands

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing by Leo Sayer

Burn by The Cure

Just The Two of Us by Grover Washington Jr ft Bill Withers

Necessary Evil by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Tadow by fkj ft Masego

Deceptacon by Le Tigre

Treasures of Time by Yuji Ohno ft Toku

Sydney by Caravan Palace

Shine On You Crazy Diamond (parts I-V) by Pink Floyd

Lovely Day by Bill Withers

Cry For Me from the Jersey Boys soundtrack

Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand

Sleep Forever by Portugal. The Man

Lulu by KC Booker

Sunflower by Rex Orange County

Goodie Bag by Still Woozy

Feel it Still by Portugal. The Man

Ain't It Weird ? by The Goodnight Loving

At Least It Was Here by The 88

Pretty Wings by Maxwell

I Like It by DeBarge

No You Girls Never Know by Franz Ferdinand

Jerk It Out by Ceasers

Handclap by Fritz and The Tantrums

Harder Better Faster Stronger by Daft Punk

Parachute by Sean Lennon

Pink + White by Frank Ocean

Back To The Cave by Colonel Suns

Tighten Up by The Black Keys

Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys

Afraid by The Neighborhood

Lake By The Ocean by Maxwell

On Again Off Again by Sean Lennon

Talk Show Host by Radiohead

#1 Crush by Garbage

Powerful by Major Lazer

Do I Wanna Know ? by Arctic Monkeys

Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears

Sweet Love by Anita Baker

Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears

The Way I Feel Inside by The Zombies

Walk Like An Egyptian by The Bangles

21st Century Schizoid Man by King Crimson

Caroline by Alex Clare

Lost In Love by Brockhampton

Put It Together by Langhorn Slim and The Law

Mr Night by Kenny Loggins

Majestic by Wax Fang

Anyways by Arctic Monkeys

Nights In White Satin by Moody Blues

Low by Foo Fighters

Paris in The Summer by Charles X

Barracuda by Heart

Coming Home by Leon Bridges

Sweet Thing by Rufus and Chaka Khan

Time Moves Slow by BADBADNOTGOOD

#mass effect 2 #mass effect #kaidan alenko #kaidan alenko favoritism

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efeafdfw · 3 years

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It is well said by one of the judges of North Carolina

“I have had enough of Illyrio’s plans. Robert Baratheon won the Iron Throne without the benefit of dragons. One of the tigers spied the dwarf

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and said something that made the others laugh. As they reached the gate, he pulled off his clawed gauntlet and the sweaty glove beneath, locked one arm around the dwarf’s neck, and roughly rubbed his head. Ranaway from the subscriber, near Mount Sterling, Ky., on the night of the 20th of October, a negro man named PORTER. Said boy is black, about 22 years old, very stout and active, weighs about 165 or 170 pounds. Now, in all the theory of government as it is managed in our country, just in proportion to the extent of power is the strictness with which qualification for the proper exercise of it is demanded. The physician may not meddle with the body, to prescribe for air jordan aj4 its ailments, without a certificate that he is properly qualified. With whispered words and prayer, a man’s shadow can be drawn forth from such and draped about another like a cloak. The wearer’s essence does not change, only his seeming.”. If the reader wishes to know what kind of preaching it is that St. Clare alludes to, when he says he can learn what is quite as much to the purpose from the Picayune, and that such scriptural expositions of their peculiar relations don’t edify him much, he is referred to the following extract from a sermon preached in New Orleans, by the Rev. “‘It is well said by one of the judges of North Carolina, that the master has a right to exact the labor of his slave; that far, the rights of the slave are suspended; but this gives the master no right over the life of his slave. I add to the saying of the judge, that law which says thou shalt not kill, protects the slave; and he is within its very letter. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to puma red bull racing evo cat ii do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Falling snow and feasting wolves began to dim. Warmth beat against his face, comforting as a mother’s kisses. “Kem! Get over here, you fucking pisspot.” Kem came running. “Take Lord and Lady Imp to the wagons, have Hammer fix them up with some company steel.”. There will be no flaying here whilst I am Prince of Winterfell, Theon had responded, little dreaming how short his rule would prove. None of them would help me. “I loved forgiving him, Vanya,” she went on. Do you know when he left me alone I used to walk about the room, fretting and polo raflorene crying, and then I would cizme din denim think that the worse he treated me the better . You can’t drink the water. That’s why we cizme din denim got the ale.” The guard rubbed his face, his eyes red and inflamed. The parents enjoyed having him. He used to stay with them the whole evening, long after midnight. Yet if he were to abandon me I should run after him to lugosis carhartt the ends of the earth, even if he were to repulse me, even if he were to drive me away. You try to persuade me to go back-but what use is that? If I went back I should come away tomorrow. Lewis Clark is an acquaintance of the writer. Soon after his escape from slavery, he was received into the family of a sister-in-law of the author, and there educated. Benerro’s high voice carried well. Tall and thin, he had a drawn face and skin white as milk. Also—Committed at the same time a negro boy, who says his name is PATRICK, of a bright complexion, about 30 years of age, will weigh about one hundred and forty-five or fifty pounds; about six feet high; his face is very badly scarred, which he says was caused by being salivated. The disease caused him to lose the bone out of his nose, and his jaw-bone, also. “Just ninety-nine years and three months ago. Well, there he seduced the daughter of a certain father, and carried her off with kimono long femme grande taillehim to Paris. Now, I shall start with

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Nellie, Vanya. The poets of America, true to the holy soul of their divine art, have shed over some of the horrid realities of this trade the pathetic light of poetry. Longfellow and Whittier have told us, in verses beautiful as strung pearls, yet sorrowful as a mother’s tears, some of the incidents of this unnatural and ghastly traffic. Men of the Night’s Watch. “You killed them. “Please,” he squeaked, his voice thin and weak. He sounded a hundred years old. The sensitive old man had become so touchy and irritable that if I had answered him now that I wasn’t going to see them, he would certainly have been wounded, and have parted from me coldly. I hastened to say that I was on my way to look in on Anna Andreyevna, though I knew I was already late, and might not have time to see Natasha at all.. Later that day, garbed and gloved once more, Connington made an inspection of the castle and sent word to Homeless Harry Strickland and his captains to join him for a war council. Nine of them assembled in the solar: Connington and Strickland, Haldon Halfmaester, Black Balaq, Ser Franklyn Flowers, Malo Jayn, Ser Brendel Byrne, Dick Cole, and Lymond Pease. That made Daenerys laugh, coming from a girl so small. She relied so much on the little scribe that she oft forgot that Missandei had only turned eleven. Those were the first two ships he’d lost from his own third of the fleet. galeb spodnjice But not the last.. “Take me back to Winterfell, m’lord,” she begged, pale-faced and trembling. “I don’t know the way. RANAWAY from the subscriber, living near White’s Store, Anson County, on the 3d of May last, a bright mulatto boy, named BOB. Bob is about 5 feet high, will weigh 130 pounds, is about 22 years old, and has some beard on his upper lip.

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josiecarioca · 5 years

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Evelyn Black (commission by Upthehilart)

Art by @upthehillart (posted with permission)

Will you look at this GORGEOUS soft, luscious, curvy autumnal dream of of a drawing, I mean look at it! It´s so pretty, warm and soft I want to hug it.

I comissioned this picture of my OC Evelyn Black from the lovely and EXTREMELY talented @upthehillart , and BOY DID SHE DELIVER!

I mean not only is this amazing art in on itself, but it´s accurate to the character to an eerie degree. Also I´d like to add the artist is an absolute sweetheart and it was a total blast discussing the details of this picture with her.

At the moment she doesn´t have any comission spots open, but if you´re thinking of comissioning an artist DO follow her blog and keep an eye out for when she opens new comissions (meanwhile, visit her store https://society6.com/upthehill or consider supporting her https://ko-fi.com/upthehillart)

For those who don´t already know by now (anybody?) Evelyn Black is the deuteragonist in my fanfiction “Post War” (available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997079/chapters/32230767 )

Info about Evelyn:

Name: Evelyn Teresa Black

Fanfiction/Fandom: "Post War" (Harry Potter. Snape survives AU)

Fanfiction summary: 1998. Severus Snape has survived the Second Wizarding War. Presumed dead, still dealing with the traumas of his past, having nowhere to go and no sense of purpose Snape returns to Spinner´s End to battle his inner demons. Meanwhile, Dark Lord´s remaining followers begin to regroup and plan revenge with help from foreign allies the British Ministry has never managed to track down and is powerless to combat. They suspect Snape is alive and still has sensitive information that could lead them to a powerful artifact.

To further complicate Snape´s already perilous situation, an Irish historian moves into the abandoned house next door. She brings a heavy baggage of family secrets and previously unknown connections to the magical world, and gradually becomes a fixture of Snape´s life, inadvertently changing it. Alternative Universe/What if.

Age: 35 years old in 1998

Birth date: September 10, 1963

Place of birth: Doolin, County Clare, Munster Province, Republic of Ireland

Alma Mater: St. Brigid School for Girls/ Trinity College

Blood status: muggle (?)

Background: An Irish historian and prolific writer, Evelyn abandons her life in Ireland after her father passes away leaving her a box full of mysterious documents and papers that belonged to her grandfather, Marius Black. Among these papers is the deed for a house located in Spinner´s End, Cokeworth. She moves into the house, in a quest to piece together her grandfather´s mysterious past, not knowing that her next door neighbour, Severus Snape, might be the key to discover everything.

Current status: working as a teacher at Cokeworth Academy, the main secondary school in town. Has just started a romantic relationship with Severus Snape not knowing he´s a wizard.

#gorgeous #upthehillart #ocapp #beautiful art #evelyn black #post war #my fanfiction #snape lives au

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propsandmayhems · 5 years

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another thing

shaun in the boys and girl from county clare is a literal gift from whatever god there may be

if u haven’t watched it, do so immediately

#shaun evans

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myhauntedsalem · 6 years

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Annie Cook’s Poor House

Greed spawns some horrific stories and this is one of the worst.

Annie Cook was born in 1875 to Russian born parents who immigrated to Denver, Colorado. The family was poor and Annie worked alongside the rest of her siblings. She didn’t mind the hard work but she resented the fact girls didn’t get paid.

In 1893, a young farmer, Frank Cook traveled from his 80-acre farm in Hershey, Nebraska to Denver for supplies. Annie saw this as an opportunity and married Frank and moved to Nebraska.

It wasn’t long before she wanted more out of life. This more was money and status. While visiting a doctor in Omaha Annie met a Madam that ran a house of ill repute. She discovered this was a fast way to make money.

She started to leave Frank and their young daughter, Clara, who was born in 1896, on the farm in Hershey and spent long periods of time in Omaha for supposed illnesses.

What Annie was doing was running a house of prostitution. After several years she earned enough money to double the size of Frank’s farm in Hershey. But this still was not enough for Annie.

After the turn of the 20th century North Platte, Nebraska became the state’s center for crime. It was during Prohibition and bootlegging, gambling and prostitution were lucrative professions especially since the officials in North Platte turned a blind eye if paid hush money.

When Annie’s daughter Clara was 13 years old she moved her to North Platte under the guise of obtaining a better education for Clara. Annie ran a boarding house for girls. Money was placed in the right palms so this pretense was effective.

The home was actually used for prostitution. Clara played the piano for the girls and their male paying customers. Many local officials frequented the house—this gave Annie the dirt she needed. She used this information as a means of extortion for years to come.

Clara eventually dropped out of school and became the house’s star attraction—her mother forced her into prostitution when men began to notice Clara. Annie used the money she made from this house to buy additional land adjacent to Frank’s farm in Hershey in 1923.

With brides and threats she gained the Lincoln County contract for its Poor Farm. She took this contract away from a caring widow who treated the many destitute male workers that came to labor on her farm in exchange for a roof over their heads.

Annie placed her Poor Farm on her newly acquired land adjacent to Frank’s farm—the family moved back to Hershey—but she kept the house of prostitution in North Platte running. She unlike the widow treated her male indigent workers with extreme abuse.

She worked many of them to death. Because of this several men ran off. Others who tried were often found dead floating in irrigation ditches. The local officials with hush money deemed these deaths accidental.

Annie carried a buggy whip with her at all times to control the poor souls who remained as slaves to her whims. She also used foul language to intimidate.

Her husband Frank did not like Annie’s treatment of these men. He would entertain them with songs and funny stories but he was too mild mannered to confront Annie.

He became fed up when Annie falsely accused him of sexually assaulting Clara. He moved into the Farm’s barn and remained there until his death in 1936.

As the years passed Annie became more greedy and impatient. She lashed out at anyone who dared to defy her. This included her feeble-minded sister and Clara who lived and worked on the farm. If either women resisted the work Annie beat them.

One day Annie returned to find Clara enjoying a moment with a young boy who worked on the farm. Clara had given him a couple of pairs of new overalls. The two were enjoying the gift as Annie arrived. She became enraged at their happiness. She grabbed the overalls and burned them in the cook stove.

This young boy was one of the few to survive Annie’s abuse. He grew up to fight in the Second World War and then became a train engineer.

In 1934, Clare now 38 years old got in an argument with her mother. Annie took a heavy lid lifter from the stove and chased Clara into the apple orchard. She hit her daughter with this lifter on the right side of her head. Clara dropped dead.

Another one of Annie’s bought and paid for public officials-- the Lincoln County Attorney declared no official investigation was necessary. Clara’s death was deemed an accident. The official report stated she swallowed poison by mistake and choked to death.

Annie because of brides, extortion and undeserved influence never was convicted of any of the crimes she committed including murder.

Many who passed the house in North Platte would cross the street and they referred to Annie as that witch. At the time of her death in 1952, many North Platte and Hershey residents still feared her.

To this day, the residents of the now modernized farm where the Cook farm and Poor House stood admit the place is haunted. Strange noises are heard, items are moved without explanation and apparitions are seen.

These ghosts are believed to be Annie Cook and several of the workers that she abused and murdered.

Nellie Snyder Yost wrote a book about Annie Cook’s life entitled, Evil Obsession.

#Annie Cook’s Poor House #paranormal #ghost and hauntings

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walkwithursus · 6 years

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Tell me about your day!

My day has been okay so far! I’m taking an accelerated physics class this summer, so I had that this morning (3 hours every day M-F! Yikes)! Then I had work after that at the library. I’ve been filling in for folks in other departments, so my own processing has been a bit behind. But I finally caught up this afternoon. Now I’m about to get off and run some errands before relaxing tonight. I’ve been meaning to watch some movies that a friend lent to me: Shakespeare in Love and some Irish movie about fiddlers called The Boys and Girl From County Clare. Most likely I’ll just end up dicking around on my phone and watching room tours on YouTube as usual. Or finish replaying Red Dead Redemption for the fourth time haha.

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stunudo · 7 years

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Teamwork Makes the Dream Work:

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Case 1 Part B

Featuring: Female Reader as she joins the Team

Setting: Early Season 12 Beginning

A/N: This is a piece about how someone with some quirks fits into the BAU. xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

They had a jet! She was a gorgeous example of engineering and simple luxury.

“Shiny! How can you fly commercial after using this beauty?” Your approving eyes were flitting through all of the leg room. Alvez and Jareau snickered behind you. You continued inside, quickly counting seats. You didn’t have to sit next to anyone! There were plenty of buffer seats for everyone.

You hummed pleasantly as you found a window seat towards the back. The relief of personal space made you almost forget the embarrassment of the morning. Rossi sat down opposite you, watching you observe the workers on the sides of the runway. His reputation was one of the most noteworthy on the team. But you always held personal interactions above gossip and, even, bureau legends.

“The jet is possibly my favorite addition to the team.” Rossi stated, “Just don’t tell the kids, they’ll be jealous.” He added in a mock whisper.

“Good to know, I would hate to have to live up to all she has done.” You teased. “Penny says you have quite the games collection.”

Rossi smirked, “Does she? Well, that’s it, all of my mysteries have already been revealed.”

Hotch was last on the plane, he sat beside Rossi with his tablet at the ready. “Garcia, what did you find?”

“Sir, sirs and sisters too! Waupaca County Sheriff just got word that state troopers located Abigail Brown’s car in, or near rather Pelican Lake.”

“That expands the comfort zone. It is 93 miles from her last known location.” Spencer jumped into the conversation, leaning down to speak to Garcia over Hotch’s shoulder.

“Alright, Rossi take Alvez to the victim’s car. JJ, I want you to take Y/L/N and Reid to the parents’ house near Waupaca. Lewis and I will coordinate with the locals. We will have rental vehicles, please behave with them.” Hotch emphasized, which made you wonder who was in trouble with “dad” for reckless driving in the past.

“For now, rest up. We have two hours in the air and another hour, hour plus on the road.” Hotch thanked Garcia and the team dispersed to different corners of the jet. You slid your earbuds in, picking up where Simon Pegg’s voice had left you giggling last.

The plane landed on a small airstrip in Oshkosh, WI located on the same campus as the world famous EAA Aviation Museum. The clear skies and bird’s eye view had left a beautiful impression of the surrounding lakes and towns. You waited in your seat to be the last off of the jet, so as not to have anyone behind and not to slow anyone down.

The stiffness of flying twice in such a short time frame left you yearning for a jog. Unfortunately the crisp autumn air rushed your face as you descended from the hatch. You shivered against the wind and followed your new team to the waiting assortment of rental cars. JJ had snagged the first set of keys for a dark four door sedan. You cautiously hauled your Go-bag and messenger to the rear of the car. As JJ popped the trunk, Dr. Reid tossed his bags inside the trunk before you registered his presence. The shock of having him there without catching him in your periphery locked you in place.

You shook your head to clear the unsettling tinge that remained on the air. You looked deeply into the trunk and slowly inserted your belongings while keeping your head down. You made your way to the back door and slid onto the leather seat. Reid was already sitting in the backseat behind Jareau. He glanced at you, surprised.

“Dr. Reid, you can sit shotgun. I prefer the back, backseat.” You tried to look reassuring. “With limbs like yours, I imagine, the front will be more comfortable. For you.” His big eyes taking in your slow to calm nerves. He made a half smile, accepting your offer with a nod. Once Spencer was situated up front, JJ typed in the address for the Brown family and headed out of town.

“So,” you began, “I’m going to pry, full disclosure. Why was the chief so huffy about the team having rental cars?” You leaned between the front seats, ensuring the other agents could hear you. You never meant to mumble, but it happened on occasion.

JJ laughed, “First off, it’s Hotch. Sir is fine, I guess. But everyone calls him Hotch.” You nodded, storing that detail for his approval later.

“You see, Y/L/N, our former colleague, Morgan, had a thing about “vibing” while he drove. There was a pedophile ring, we were on the task force near the end of the case. And Morgan, he, well he-”

“Derek drove into a marsh.” JJ concluded. “The car was unsalvageable and it set back the investigation-”

“An additional eight hours,” Reid continued. “Hotch was not pleased. He hates things that get us billed unexpectedly.”

You sensed the closeness between Reid and Jareau, interpreting their relationship to be greater than simply teammates. As Jareau was clearly married and Reid did not give off any sexuality hints you assumed they were “besties”. Riding in the backseat was refreshingly entertaining. People watching was a specialty of yours, as you tended to fade to the background anyway. You learned about JJ’s family. Spencer’s mother was mentioned briefly, but you could tell it was a touchy subject. He was studying a map, marking it diligently with details from the case.

“Y/L/N, what’s your story? Besides transferring from cyber crimes, of course.” Jareau asked after a patch of quiet. “We’re going to find out eventually. Might as well spill.” Her eyes caught yours in the rear-view mirror, prodding yet kind.

“You tell me, between Reid’s eidetic memory and your past profiling and negotiation experience. I am quite obvious, I suppose. I am curious what you’ve gathered.” You leaned back, waiting for the inevitably judgmental insights.

Jareau and Reid exchanged a look. “We don’t, uh, we have an unspoken rule not to profile each other.”

“Alvez says you all do it. You just don’t talk about doing it.” You explained. Reid pursed his lips, from where you sat you couldn’t deduce if it was in amusement or annoyance.

The family was a mess. Their emotions in dark contrast to their small, cookie cutter, ranch style house and manicured lawn. The Brown’s house interior had no visible blemishes as well. Abigail was their oldest child. Missing her were her father, Mark, her mother, Sandra and brothers Danny and Benji. The boys were at school, so there were more of your agents than family members occupying the cubical shaped dining room.

“Ma’am, would it be alright if Dr. Reid and I see Abigail’s room?” You asked rather abruptly after being introduced by Jareau, the question had been burning in your mouth. You wanted to get to work, but had to tell yourself to be considerate of the family.

“Why would you need to go in there?” Sandra asked defensively. “It’s not like she is hiding under the bed.” You glanced up at Spencer, letting him take over.

“I know you are upset, but we are trying to get to know Abigail. When we investigate we start with the victim. Why her?” Reid explained, his crisp reasoning held both parents’ attention.

“Hey, Doc?” Mark Brown chimed in, “When you figure that out, let me know. I want to reason with the bastard as it is.” You watched Reid hold the father’s stare, knowing words were not involved with his intentions. Reid cleared his throat and Jareau resumed the standard victim’s family questioning. You stepped widely around the compact table, waiting until Reid was in the hall before following his puff of hair.

Abigail Brown’s room was fairly standard college freshman material. She had a Klimt poster on one wall and a bookshelf dedicated to YA novels. The girl had good taste: Clare to Riordan, Steifvater to Rowling. Her desk was cleared of her laptop, as she would have packed it with her to return to school. Dr. Reid’s hands loomed over her dresser, the vanity astonishingly bare for your modern, small town young woman.

“Y/L/N, what don’t you see here?” Reid quizzed you. Your eyes glanced over the space once more before answering.

“There is no jewelry, make up or anything personally or monetarily valuable.” You concluded.

“She wasn’t coming back home.” Reid agreed.

SPEAKERPHONE

Rossi: Everything this girl owned seemed to be jammed into her hatchback.

Hotch: Reid and Y/L/N are suggesting she knew she wouldn’t be coming back.

Alvez: There was no sign of a struggle in or around the car. Maybe she was meeting someone?

Garcia: Sir? Once we get Abigail’s laptop connected to WiFi, I can start digging. Rossi please don’t let the new kid hurt the tech.

Rossi: Y/L/N’s with Reid and JJ.

Garcia: You know who I mean! But, now that you mention it, if Y/L/N is close by, she can dig too.

There was no good place for the team to sync up. Victims went missing counties apart from where their cars were parked. Evidence was in three jurisdictions. According to Reid, the eye of the storm was in Shawano County, but Hotch booked the hotel in Antigo, one county north. Fortunately the hotel had internet access, unlike every restaurant, diner or cafe you had come across.

You plugged your headphones in to Abigail’s lap top and got to work uncovering this victim’s dirty laundry. While you did your “tech thing” the team round tabled. You overheard the highlights, comfortable to be invisible and an eavesdropper once again.

-Victims had all packed above and beyond the usual weekend laundry run of a college student.

-Parents hadn’t heard much from the victims over the few weeks leading up to their disappearances.

-No signs of struggle and no more bodies had been found.

Dr. Lewis was extremely insightful, pulling references to human trafficking rings that ran from Green Bay to Chicago. You reminded yourself to touch base with the sultry voiced agent once you had a decent question for her brilliance. Abigail’s computer was full of malware. But other than that she had an active, yet not obsessive level of social media profiles. She checked her school email inbox between each class.

This victim was a good kid, you didn’t know why she was targeted. It wasn’t until you found reoccurring references to Night Owls that you felt the computer was a dead end. Night Owls was a evening group chat that Abigail had found on a banner ad. It was a chat room coupled with a confessional. It was in Night Owls that Abigail started communicating with a Nocturne1995. It was in one of these very emo and very lengthy chats that you found where Nocturne1995 suggested that they go to the Cabin for an Escape from Everything.

Finally turning off Abigail’s most listened to list on iTunes, you returned to your awaiting teammates. Hotch and Rossi watched you approach the table. Their dark eyes held you and you fumbled trying to wipe the sweat from your palms.

“Sir?” You began, whispering just to Hotchner. “I am going to call Garcia to trace a chat ID, its a long shot, but there are mentions of an escape and a cabin in their conversations.”

“You do what you need to, Y/L/N.” Hotchner agreed. “Y/L/N? Good work.”

To Be Continued...

#TwMtDW #Criminal Minds #bau x reader #or just put meh in the reply if you think a fic is pointless without romance #criminal minds fanfiction #maladroit #anxiety #teamwork #cases #fbi bau #bau #browncoat #nerd girl #girls who code

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aresaphrodites · 7 years

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I need a major list of TV show recs! List everything you have watched/are watching. I have already watched: One Tree Hill, Gossip Girl, PLL, Riverdale, Reign, Friends, HIMYM, That 70s show, and B99

Alright, nonnie! Let me hit you with some GREATS! If none of these appeal to you then feel free to come back to me and I’ll give you more!

The O.C. (2003-2007): A troubled youth becomes embroiled in the lives of a close-knit group of people in the wealthy, upper-class neighborhood of Newport Beach, Orange County, California.

Smallville (2001-2011): A young Clark Kent struggles to find his place in the world as he learns to harness his alien powers for good and deals with the typical troubles of teenage life in Smallville, Kansas.

Slasher (2016): A young woman returns to the small town where her parents were murdered, only to find the past re-emerging as a new series of murders begins.

Damien (2016): After discovering his origins, Damien Thorn must cope with life as the Anti-Christ. (Note: This is one of my all time favorites. It’s dark but I swear to God, it is so good if you like stuff about the Bible and Lucifer and the Omen and all that good jazz.)

Humans (2015- ?): In a parallel present where the latest must-have gadget for any busy family is a ‘Synth’ - a highly-developed robotic servant that’s so similar to a real human it’s transforming the way we live.

Merlin (2008-2012): These are the brand new adventures of Merlin, the legendary sorcerer as a young man, when he was just a servant to young prince Arthur on the royal court of Camelot who has soon become his best friend and turned Arthur into a great king and a legend.

True Blood (2008-2014): Telepathic waitress Sookie Stackhouse encounters a strange new supernatural world when she meets the mysterious Bill, a southern Louisiana gentleman and vampire.

Shadowhunters (2016- ?): After her mother disappears, Clary must venture into the dark world of demon hunting, and embrace her new role among the Shadowhunters.

Animal Kingdom (2016-?): The series centers on 17-year-old Joshua “J” Cody, who moves in with his freewheeling relatives in their Southern California beach town after his mother dies of a heroin overdose. Headed by boot-tough matriarch Janine “Smurf” Cody and her right-hand Baz, who runs the business and calls the shots, the clan also consists of Pope, the oldest and most dangerous of the Cody boys; Craig, the tough and fearless middle son; and Deran, the troubled, suspicious “baby” of the family.

Peaky Blinders (2013-?): A gangster family epic set in 1919 Birmingham, England and centered on a gang who sew razor blades in the peaks of their caps, and their fierce boss Tommy Shelby, who means to move up in the world.

Penny Dreadful (2014-2016): Explorer Sir Malcolm Murray, American gunslinger Ethan Chandler, scientist Victor Frankenstein and medium Vanessa Ives unite to combat supernatural threats in Victorian London.

Freaks and Geeks (1999-2000): A high school mathlete starts hanging out with a group of burnouts while her younger brother navigates his freshman year.

Game of Thrones (2011-?): Nine noble families fight for control over the mythical lands of Westeros, while a forgotten race returns after being dormant for thousands of years.

Shameless (2011-?): An alcoholic man lives in a perpetual stupor while his six children with whom he lives cope as best they can. (Note: In my opinion, this show becomes absolute shit after Mickey leaves it, but I still recommend watching it for the first five seasons.)

Prison Break (2005-?): Due to a political conspiracy, an innocent man is sent to death row and his only hope is his brother, who makes it his mission to deliberately get himself sent to the same prison in order to break the both of them out, from the inside. (Note: This show ended back in 2009 and even had a movie made for it but they just brought it back this year. I haven’t seen the newest season except for the first episode, so I don’t know if they’re continuing it or what.)

Criminal Minds (2005-?): The cases of the F.B.I. Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU), an elite group of profilers who analyze the nation’s most dangerous serial killers and individual heinous crimes in an effort to anticipate their next moves before they strike again.

The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017): A young teen struggles to make a decision between two vampire brothers and their supernatural lives. Soon after she discovers the truth her whole world turns upside down.

Glee (2009-2015): A group of ambitious misfits try to escape the harsh realities of high school by joining a glee club, where they find strength, acceptance and, ultimately, their voice, while working to pursue dreams of their own.

American Horror Story (2011-?): An anthology series centering on different characters and locations, including a house with a murderous past, an asylum, a witch coven, a freak show, a hotel, a farmhouse in Roanoke and a cult. (Watch seasons 1-3. They are iconic. The rest? Eh.)

DEGRASSI. I’ve only watched The Next Generation starting at like season six I think? But IT’S SO GOOD. I really only watched up until Eli and Clare and their gang left the show, but I recommend this show SO MUCH.

Salem (2014-2017): Explores what really fueled the town's infamous witch trials and uncovering the dark, supernatural truth hiding behind this infamous period in American history.

Bates Motel (2013-2017): A contemporary prequel to Psycho, giving a portrayal of how Norman Bates' psyche unravels through his teenage years, and how deeply intricate his relationship with his mother, Norma, truly is.

Gilmore Girls (2000-2007): A dramedy centering around the relationship between a thirtysomething single mother and her teen daughter living in Stars Hollow, Connecticut. (This is another show that has a revival, and I’m not sure whether it’s continuing or if it was just a one season sort of thing. According to my knowledge, the revival was a mini series with four episodes, each one about an hour and thirty minutes each.)

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ivemetyouathousandways · 5 years

Text

Scrambled eggs, like scrambled feelings

Oksøy Lighthouse - Oksøy Fyr - Norway - Saturday 7:30 am

“The boat is in the opposite direction.” He protested as I dragged him to the side of the lighthouse.

"I know. But that side is ...I mean look at it!”

I expected a snazzy remark along the lines of “Yes, I know, I happen to live here. In fact, I was born here. I even grew up here! Imagine that! Some forty-five odd years around the neighborhood!.” But Sven was above those petty levels and simply followed me.

The wind had calmed down, even on this coastal island edge, the swashing and lapping of the waves against the rocky shores was the most soothing sensation and for a moment I completely spaced out, vaguely being conscious of Sven’s warm hand holding mine, maybe imagining the slow shift of his body behind mine, the pulling back hug, his hands still on mine. The sky was of a magnificent alleviating blue, the ocean, a marvelous rich, nurturing, perfect deep blue. I wanted to drown in the healing blue, caressed and rocked and carried away by the wind.

“Why are you really in Norway?”

His voice, a warm whisper in my ear, was like a therapist’ voice, reassuring, inviting to truly open up.

“I’m trying to mend a stupid ass broken heart.” I whispered in one go, suddenly out of breath, wondering if I had answered his question or if I was confessing to the roaring ocean.

“Heart aches and heartbreaks are never stupid.” His hug tightened and I felt a kiss on the back of my head. “They are hard, the wounds sting bad, but they also teach us. Did you know that the Japanese value broken vases and bowls which they repair with gold? Wounds and scars paint a beautiful unique portrait of the soul.”

I let my head rest against his shoulder and fully savored the moment; his arms around me, his body keeping mine warm, the refreshing wind keeping a reality check on me. I wanted to burst into tears and sob a little, the magnificence of this moment would, sooner or later, end, and I didn’t want to face that eventuality, not even the thought of. I rolled the memory of his kiss on my tongue, the warmth, the passion, the hunger. My answer wasn’t any lesser than his demands. It had been sweet and scary at the same time. I didn’t want to catch feelings, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was already comfortably snug cocooning in this infatuation.

Thank you, Sven, for this magnificent moment.

I gladly let him operate the small motored boat on the way back to mainland, my ego had been satisfied on the way here, more or less successfully proving him that I could, in fact, maneuver the damned thing on my own. And I had enjoyed every single of peek I had at his face, both dubious and relieved that I didn’t cause a double drown in freezing cold waters.

“We just passed a coffee shop.” I mentioned as we did in fact elongated the distance between us and a gorgeous cozy little shop I was excited to try out.

“I know.” He smiled smug back at me.

“I guess you have a favorite spot?”

I should have thought of that.

“You can say it like that - yes.” He smiled again.

I wanted to play a game, but I felt childish and silly and very stupid. Back in my college years, whenever I went out with a friend, and mind you, this was downtown Montreal, with cars and traffic lights and a myriad of by-passers in the heat of the noon hour when everyone around downtown was out and about for lunch and leisure, I randomly closed my eyes, as he was holding my hand, and I let him guide me around the streets to wherever he was taking me for lunch at.

I tripped on something and felt Sven’s arm suddenly slide around my shoulders to catch me.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, worried.

“Playing a game.” I made an effort not to open my eyes. “I close my eyes and see how far I can trust you.”

“You often play this game?”

“Only with whom I deem worthy of a shot.”

He tightened his grip a notch. My heart accelerated. How to kill a flame; be a stupid rogue on not even official date.

“Watch your step.”

I poked my toe against a small concrete elevation. I couldn’t tell just how long we had walked. I had selfishly enjoyed it. Sounds of the village. Sounds of our steps on the dirt paths or concrete streets. Random chitter-chatter from people passing us by. The chirping or birds. The wind. The distant roar of the ocean fading but ever present, a distant echo reminding us that were on an island still. Cars rolling past us. His silence, beautiful, comforting.

He put both hands on my shoulders and I could feel his warm breath against my ear once more.

“You can open your eyes now.”

I had a bit of a shock when I recognized his kitchen counter and coffee machine neatly aligned in front of me.

“You impressed with that boat earlier this morning. Safe to assume I can trust you with this piece of machinery.”

Real funny, Sven.

“When we were at the lighthouse, I wanted to say “let’s go home and you can make me coffee” but I think it would have been too soon.”

My heart squeezed delightfully in my chest. Let’s go home - not: let’s go back to my place and i’ll let you maneuver the coffee machine.Oh! Miniature Illy avatar was swooning all over the place.

“So - euhm - you tell me where you store the ingredients or do I roam free in your cabinets?”

“You managed to go around by yourself in a country with a non Latin based writing system, I think you can handle roaming around my cabinets and cupboards.”

Miniature Illy was about floating in sparkly glittery popping hearts. I tried not to smile stupidly like a lost enamored high school girl.

Sven then casually sat down at the kitchen table and opened the newspaper laying there. Was it last night’s evening paper or even older or this morning’s paper? Did an actual paper boy deliver it before the crack of dawn?

“Can I ...” I started and suddenly felt intimated by my bold inspiration.

“Can you...” He repeated, giving me his full attention.

“Can I make you breakfast?” I spurted out with half a grimace.

He then froze in a a near perfect still shot, morphed into incredulous bewilderment, and exploded in a fit of laughter.

“Yes!” He said between two fits of laughter “Yes, you may make me breakfast.” He picked up the newspaper “Matter of fact, I’ll even give you carte blanche.”

I cracked my fingers and took a deep breath. Time to have a goddamned plan! And hopefully not break his coffee machine...

The sound of a quiet morning in a random kitchen in Norway. Someone turning the pages of a printed newspaper. Someone’s soft peaceful breathing. The dripping drop by drop of a coffee machine brewing coffee, cracking eggs, beating them in a bowl. A car passing by in the distance. The roaring ocean nearer - just outside the window - a few steps in the backyard. A tourist lost and found in a small village at the other end of the world. I loved villages at the end of the world. I came from one, I felt home in them. My secret hide out, safe places. Harasztkerék, Targu Mures, Romania. Doolin, County Clare, Ireland. Skålevik, Vest-Agder county, Norway. Someone turning a few pages of a printed newspaper. A loud thump against the front door.

My heart skipped a beat, then decided to race furiously in my chest. I was happily surveying the delicate mix of cheese with scrambled eggs over a hot gas stove. They were near perfect ready. Bread was patiently laying on a plate, ready to welcome a luxurious coat of thick rich scrambled eggs with bits of ham and a heavy load of gooey melted cheese.

Sven calmly put the paper down and smiled reassuringly, but I noted concern on his face.

“Stay here. It’s okay. Nothing to worry about.”

The weariness of his tone informed me he was no stranger to whatever situation was unfolding outside. But I worried. Human nature - you can’t escape that shit. I tried to muster as much self control as I could to garnish the bread slices with the thick rich mix of scrambled eggs and melted cheese, sprinkled a few more bits of ham on top, instagram dropped a few tomato slices and, at fault of having proper baby pickles - I would have to touch a word about this to him - dropped in a small string of grapes.

The proper thing would have been to patiently wait for his return, enthuse about the breakfast and play as if nothing had disrupted the otherwise perfect little morning, but I never qualified as a proper lady following the proper course of actions. I was the lovable rogue who did what pleased her; take it or leave it. After having neatly laid the plates on the table and poured coffee in two mugs, I decided that I was dead curious to see what had caused the incidental ruckus outside and found Sven taking photos of a bloody crime scene.

“Can you fetch me a few Q-tips?” His tone was monotone, matter of fact, instructor giving directives to an apprentice. “Bathroom is on the second floor, first door on your left. Medicine cabinet mirror.” He continued. “And a Ziploc bag from the kitchen on your way out. Takk!*” He smiled briefly, but I could see the lassitude on his face.

I rushed in the house like horror movie victim running for her sweet life, sped up the stairs two steps by two, busted in the bathroom out of breath and opened the mirrored medical cabinet to find a cute little glass square box of said Q-tips of which i snatched few, cussing myself out midway down that I should have fetched them using a piece of toilet paper - but it was too late now, my finger prints were on them, or partial finger prints at least. I found the box of plastic sandwich bags in the pantry and allowed zero concerns this time, a trip at the local police precinct would be an adventure on it’s own!

Sven was on the phone when I carefully stepped out, trying not to touch the outside of the door. Big bloody red letters spelled out HORE and something in the forefront of my mind told me that the Norwegian spelling was about just a letter missing from it’s English equivalent, but I failed to understand the context and how or why the word was painted on this man’s front door.

‘Takk, takk. Jeg venter” He hung up the call.

“The precinct will send an officer over shortly.” He informed me.

“Is that... real blood?”

“Pig's blood. Yes.”

The odd realization of the fact froze me in place.

“Why...”

“My daughter’s ex boyfriend didn’t take it too well that she moved away; went to live in England with her mother and her new husband.”

Just how much can one morning hold and not break the fragile thread being weave between two people ?

Takk = Thanks!

jeg venter = i’ll be waiting

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animalsoffarmsanctuary · 7 years

Photo

A Week at Farm Sanctuary: Happy New Year!

We’re just one week into 2017, but it’s clear we’re already on our way to a compassionate year ahead! As we continue to work toward a kinder world for all, we’re inspired by the lessons we can learn from farm animals just like our rescued residents — incredible ambassadors for their species who teach us so much about the beautiful lives we may lead when we put compassion first.

Checking in with the Sheep!

Our wooly friends at Farm Sanctuary’s New York Shelter haven’t let a little thing like snow keep them from enjoying their time in the pasture!

Cold, snowy days are perfect opportunities to surround ourselves with those we love the most — and sheep like Adriano and his mom, Florence, are no exception! Adriano is the majestic leader of his flock, standing guard in the barn and determined to ensure everyone’s safety. But he is also a devoted mama’s boy at heart, always prioritizing his mother’s needs and valuing her company above anyone else’s.

Florence (right) joins her strong, yet gentle son for “watch duty” at the barn. Looks like they spotted a humanimal to welcome to their home!

Adriano’s buddy Abay fills in while Adriano carries out his welcoming duties.

Soon, more human friends arrived to clean the sheep barn; after all, who among us (animal or humanimal) doesn’t love the the comfort of a cozy, warm bed on a cold night? Cleaning time meant some time outdoors for the members of the sheep flock (which also includes some goat pals), and everyone enjoyed the magic that a snowy day always seems to bring.

Adriano snuggles up with mom while flockmate Liam (left) crashes the family photo.

Adriano and Florence made the rounds, visiting with their friends. But they also kept close to one another, and it warms our hearts to know that here at Farm Sanctuary, this sweet family will always be able to stay together.

Florence (right) sharing a moment with flockmate Sookie.

Florence visits with her pal Aysha. At the time of her rescue, Aysha was one of the most terrified sheep we’ve ever met. While she’s still not a big fan of people, she’s warmed up to our presence over the years — and with her sheep friends by her side, she feels happy, safe, and at ease.

What a treat to see Aysha’s beautiful smile!

Sarah and Clare with friend Jack lamb (at rear), who was born at Farm Sanctuary this past spring after we rescued his mother, Daniella, from a cruelty case in Cattaraugus County, NY.

Sarah and Clare lambs arrived at our New York Shelter this past summer, and it took some time for them to get acclimated to Farm Sanctuary life. Just a few months later, though, these girls are curious, energetic, and friendly, diving face-first into their happy new lives (and into the snow)!

Beautiful Sarah sporting a bit of snow on her face.

And While We’re On the Subject of Snow...

...it looks like Jessica alpaca is also a fan of the winter weather!

This week, Jessica enjoyed spending time in the snowy pasture...

...and she had the snow-covered snout to prove it.

And her partner in crime, Stevie alpaca (above), is also enjoying thesecrisp winter days.

Visiting with the Goats

Meanwhile, our goat friends have also been enjoying the chance to explore and frolic in the snow!

Maggie checking out the camera-toting human.

Maggie recently marked her first birthday, and she’s still every bit as close as ever with her doting mom Olive (background, above).

Sweet Kagen, who came to us from 2016′s Cattaraugus County rescue, is snug in his warm coat and ready to meet the weather.

Kagen’s buddy Earl (left) visiting with Aretha (center) and her daughter Min (right).

Little Lola and her big herdmate Zuzu hanging out in the snow together.

Lola’s twin brother Henry surveying his wintery empire.

Sweet Marjorie, with her partner Goodwin (just visible) never far behind.

Percival stopping by to say hello and pose for the camera.

Partners Wilson and Lily taking a wintery stroll in the pasture together.

With your continued support, we can continue to be the rescuer, caregiver and advocate that farm animals so desperately need.

Special-needs herd members Gary, Liz, Jerome, Faith, and Westley enjoying a meal together! (As it happens, every meal is a compassionate meal for them.)

Thank you for helping us make 2017 a year to remember, as we work to create a more compassionate world for all!

May your days be as carefree as Lucky Lady’s. Wishing you a beautiful, compassionate year ahead!

For more Farm Sanctuary updates, be sure to follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube. Want to meet our incredible rescued residents in person? Learn how to visit here. Want to help? Your support makes our rescue, education, and advocacy efforts possible. You can also help by sharing our residents’ stories to spread the word that farm animals like them are each someone, not something. A compassionate world begins with you!

#animal photography #farm animals #animal rescue #animal rights #animals #new york shelter #winter #week in review

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