#But some prefer comments Personally I dont because replying to people and specific messages is crazy on there

[kipskiptrip]

(If you coukd lmk your responses in the tags or comments that'd be fantastic)

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 20

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Simon and Martin have a chat.

Martin accepts some advice.

When Martin passed the front gate the world behind him disappeared, replaced by cold, grey mist and stone.

Staring back the way he came only made it harder to remember what had been before, and his head felt the pressure of distance with no point of reference. Something deep inside him knew the perils of walking anywhere but the path leading him to the Fairchild house; to step anywhere else would see him tumbling out and away from the only landmark he had left.

Waiting for him at the front door was the woman who’d taken the sketchbook from him, this time without the veneer of professional courtesy. The hooded jumper, worn jeans, and disinterested wave announced to the world an interrupted day off. If his damp, miserable self was an affront to her sensibilities, she wasn’t showing it, so the wet jacket stayed on.

In his nerves he hadn’t really registered her appearance during their first meeting, too focused on getting rid of the evidence of his crime. She was older, maybe in her 60s, with long grey hair tied back into a low ponytail. He hadn’t seen her about town before, had he?

They walked inside without any chitchat, so Martin glanced about in silence. The interior felt right if his memory served, the same skinny halls and windows stretching from floor to ceiling. The most striking aspect still was the mural at the top of the central staircase. The rest of the house was dwarfed by it, as if the grand building was no greater than his hometown’s silhouette tucked into the corner of the canvas. 

Approaching it, the colors were more. More intense, more bold, all the brightness stolen from the world outside siphoned into an impossible sky. Maybe anything would look that much more  when contrasted with where he’d been. He was at the top of the stairs standing at its center wondering if there was any distance that could give him a proper view of the whole. 

From behind him the woman cleared her throat, though she didn’t seem irritated. He pulled himself away from the spot where he’d stopped to stare, leaving slippery footprints in his wake.

Glancing up at the mural, she only said, “Some things demand attention.”

She led him to the same room from his first visit with its outward wall of glass. Across the room sat Simon, his back facing those large, unbelievably clear windows that now overlooked the fog-covered landscape. Martin heard the woman’s retreating footsteps and the click of the door.

Martin breathed out, keeping a few feet between himself and the old man. He waved stiffly at the windows. “It’s a bit late. I was expecting this to happen last week.”

With that pleasant smile unmoving, Simon motioned for Martin to sit in the chair across from him. “Don’t be ridiculous. That event will be much more exciting. I wanted to put this meeting together, and needed a good mix of quick and fun.”

“Starting to question my understanding of ‘fun’,” Martin mumbled. He took the seat offered to him and crossed his arms over his chest, the rainwater he carried in seeping into the plush fabric. “It seems like I’m always on the losing side of someone else’s.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Simon hummed, leaning back comfortably in his chair. “So you’d prefer something more exciting in your invitations, so you’re not left out? Did my little errand turn you into a thrill-seeker already?”

“No.” A shiver ran through him, not of fear but of an awful, biting cold. The wet of his hair sapped the heat right out of him and pulled his ponytail down heavy onto his neck. “What do you want?”

“Oh, a bit moody today, aren’t we?” The smile was still sitting idly on Simon’s face. “Peter’s been around more often, I can tell. He does that to people, sucks all patience and goodwill out until they’re… well.” He flicked his eyes over Martin with something like pity.

Martin pressed his arms tighter into himself. “So what, you push people into the sky, and he does that?”

Simon laughed without a hint of shame. “Goodness, no. Peter is just like that, no strangeness needed. I’ve often left his company feeling completely drained and irritable, though I’ve found ways to ensure the feeling is mutual.”

“Good friends, then.”

“As much as he can have them.” Simon leaned forward, no hint of bitterness in his voice or expression. “A very close-to-the-chest type, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

With a sharp exhale, Martin said, “Look, if you’re going to ask me for a favor I’m not-”

“Now, now, I’m not one to drag on a favor forever, and you’ve paid in full. Besides, Peter is much too jumpy right now for anything to be done.” Simon turned his gaze toward the window. “I’m afraid all any of us can do now is wait.” 

A jolt of disappointment shocked Martin to silence. All of this dramatic nonsense just to be told to wait and see? He hadn’t had any specific expectations, but deep down he’d believed Simon to be plotting something soon. That even if it was a horrible outcome Martin wouldn’t be left in suspense from every angle of his life. 

Whatever shoe was meant to drop, it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t for some unspecified amount of time.

Simon regained his easy tone and continued, “And I greatly dislike this weather, all of these things clouding my view. Soon I’ll be going weeks without a clear day, and it can feel so… so claustrophobic. So little to work with on a day like this.”

He wasn’t the one who needed to walk in it. “You’re not going to explain anything, are you?”

“No, I’m not. You know how these things are. Business.” Reaching into his pocket, Simon pulled out a small envelope. “Speaking of, like a pouting child Peter has been avoiding me, and as far as I can tell you’re the only person who actually sees him.”

With a deep sigh Martin leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. Not only was he getting nothing out of Simon, but- “This is all so I can be a messenger boy?”

“Just the one time, if Peter can be reasonable.”

“I don’t- Wait. Why not trap him like you did me? Just force him to your door.”

With a sudden laugh that made Martin jump, Simon replied, “Not everyone is as easy to find as you. And anyway, it’s not wise to do that to friends, is it?” 

It wasn’t a way to keep friends, no, and he took the message from Simon without further comment. On the other side of the room, the door opened to reveal that woman. Not needing prompting he stood, looking back one more time at the other man.

Simon remained seated and swung one more friendly smile in Martin’s direction. “You’ll be seen out, then. I must thank you for your previous help, Martin. The personal significance alone can’t be overstated. It’s not my only sketchbook, of course, but several of my best works had their beginnings in it.” Was that glint in his eye one of creative pride, or was there some joke Martin was missing?

The tiniest desire to stay and hear more itched at the back of his mind, but the dismissal was clear and he let the woman lead him back through the house. Once outside he saw the weather had taken a turn for the worse into a complete downpour. The high wind would certainly blow his hood down, making for a wretched walk ahead of him.

“Ah.” He’d been taken to the Fairchild house on an impossible route, but the way home was entirely real. “I have a long way to walk.”

“Inconveniences all around,” the woman said, shutting the door behind him.

Once he was alone he ripped the phone from his pocket and and bent over it to delete his dramatic messages before they could be seen, replacing it with:

Martin: talked with simon (didnt really have a choice), dont think anything will happen with him for a while

Martin: said all we can do is wait? really cryptic

Then he pocketed it once more and walked out the front gate into the reinstated town.

The greatest relief was finding other unlucky pedestrians doing their best to stay dry along with him. Even without the ability to stop and talk he felt the silent commiseration. It wasn’t joy in the suffering of others but rather the knowledge that other people were there at all to share in the cruddy weather. He could see where a person ahead of him was avoiding puddles, and found residual warmth in the lights of nearby shop fronts. It was the kind of melancholy atmosphere that could make rain a little more bearable.

The walk down the cliff however was designed to kill him, the slope slick with mud and abandoned by an early setting sun. No waterproof phone, glasses blurred and splattered with droplets, Martin made his slow way home in the cold, in the dark. More than once he stopped to make sure he hadn’t gotten turned around by forces supernatural or otherwise, but then the ground flattened and he could finally hear the sea over the rain beating against the ground.

He was late of course, but besides some comments about tracking water into the house and forgetting his umbrella his mother had left him well alone, and even took his word when he described the weather as unsuitable for her health. He was grateful. After the last few days anything worse might’ve sent them into a screaming match to surpass any bouts they’d had in years. Maybe the day had taken as much out of her as it had from him.

Instead, after a necessary change of clothes on his part, they ate dinner and watched television, her in her chair and him on the couch. It was some old game show he vaguely remembered, not something that aired in his childhood but that he’d experienced first as reruns, the saturated colors and fuzzy image granting it a multilayered nostalgia. Someone on the screen had just answered a question and was hoping their spouse would come up with the same response.

In his pyjama pants and old t-shirt he felt little, his feet tucked under him because he hadn’t wanted to waste another pair of socks. It was as if he’d just come out of the bath with his wet hair and drooping eyes and was waiting to be told he was up too late. As if he wasn’t responsible for watching the clock himself.

His phone vibrated in the middle of the program, but if his mother noticed she chose to ignore it. Tapping the phone awake, Martin saw a notification from the group message.

Tim: ok check-in time what the hell 

Tim: just saw this 

So they hadn’t seen his initial messages. He breathed out in relief and typed out a reply.

Martin: some weird stuff, but everythings fine. simon made it so i had to go talk to him

Martin: whatever simon mentioned before its not coming yet. seems like he isnt in control of when whatever it is happens? also peter is avoiding him so i need to give him this letter

Tim: weird but

Tim: good? more time for us

Sasha: one less thing to worry about. glad it went okay.

Tim: ^^

He’d successfully avoided any panic or weirdness that his original messages most definitely would’ve caused and patted himself on the back for a job well done. No one needed that as a distraction.

Martin: oh right weird topic change but jon mentioned it, do you really all use a cot at work

Tim: oh yeah lol love that thing

Tim: jon is on it right now actually will pass on simon info when hes awake

Martin: youre all still there??

Tim: oh martin dont you know weve Never Left

Tim: we should get going soon tho now that you mention, will drag jon out of the archives while passing on simon info

Martin: good idea

Tim: and keep those eyes down!

Martin bit his cheek and looked past his phone at the television screen. No doubt it was karma for his rash behavior at the lighthouse, having “just wait!” shouted at him from all corners. The universe was making itself very clear. Simon could’ve just been telling him to let something terrible happen, but even if that was true Martin wasn’t in a place to stop anything.

But it was a great quality of Tim’s, rounding them all up and trying to save them from regrettable decisions. The least Martin could do was make that job easier and stay out of trouble. It was also the most he could do, as much as it irked him.

Martin: dont need to tell me twice! 

And with that Martin pocketed his phone, accepting his fate of inaction.

When he finally put his mother to bed the goodnight between them was not warm, but it was closer to normal. If he’d been told that one of the most pleasant parts of his day would’ve been watching the telly after dinner with his mum, he would’ve… well, it wasn’t that strange. Really it emphasized how bad the rest of his day had been.

Meanwhile the most pleasant event felt fake, even when he checked his call logs to confirm it. What a strange start to a day, he thought as he laid in bed. At least it made up for Jon not being around that evening, that and knowing Jon was getting some sleep. The man clearly needed some prompting during an intense work period to take care of himself, and Martin silently thanked Tim for doing something about it when he couldn’t bring himself to initiate a phone conversation. He knew it was ridiculous for him to be so nervous about the idea, but…

But.

Hopefully Jon didn’t think he was rude. It was one thing to chat in person, but calling without a specific topic to discuss while the others were hard at work? Because he was bored? Best to let Jon reach out when he felt it necessary, even if it meant being woken up at odd hours on a work day and otherwise sitting on his hands. Eventually this would all be behind them and he could stop being racked with guilt over the thought of making a social call. 

Martin’s stomach twisted. Yes, things would be dealt with, and he would move on from this strange period in his life.

He moved to place the phone down for the night when it buzzed in his hand, with a message in another, private chat.

Sasha: we should talk more later about what simon told you specifically. if something big is coming having someone on the inside of things might not be the worst. not saying you should seek him out, he seems perfectly of capable of contacting you, but if it happens again it could be an opportunity

Martin: you think he could be on our side?

Sasha: i think letting people say their piece can lead to understanding, even if the other person is the worst. something is going on between him and peter lukas and the more we know the better

Martin: right…

Sasha: again not saying to run into anything. wait for us etc etc but trust your gut

Martin: so your opinion on staying put?

Sasha: sometimes you cant, thats all im saying

Martin: okay, i think i get it

Sasha: good. now get some sleep, weird things tend to drain you

Martin: goodnight

Sasha: night

Well, she wasn’t wrong. He didn’t believe that Simon was a good person, not with how he’d treated Martin thus far, but that didn’t make him evil, either. And his advice was the same as what everyone else had already been saying: stay out of trouble as best he could and wait for the right moment. Even Sasha still conceded to it being the best option for the present. If Peter told him to wait as well, then Martin would be truly lost on what to do, but until then he would follow the advice of all the people who knew more than he did.

And if Simon called him to his home again, he would try to be less… difficult. And he would buy a better jacket, just in case. 

--

The next morning, he listened to a voice message left shortly after he’d fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

Jon’s groggy voice drifted from the mobile. “Hi, sorry I missed things. Wasn’t expecting Fairchild to be so forward, and my sleep schedule has never been- anyway, Tim convinced me to go back to my flat, but since I slept at the institute earlier I’m currently following a few threads to see if they lead anywhere helpful. I think I’ve reached something, but time will tell.”

He continued after a brief pause. “Seems you’re already asleep, as you should be, so I’ll let you go. Let me know if you have any questions about our other… shared interest. Good night. I hope things stay quiet.” 

[letsperaltiago]

We’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 2|

If you're new here: welcome! And if you're returning for second chapter: bless you :')

Here's to some Peraltiago banter and pining !!

Read it on AO3 or simply enjoy it here! I appreciate comments more than you know <3

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CHAPTER 2: I say we don't know what comes 'cause that's on the way

“I’m home,” Jake called out as per routine as soon as he set a foot inside the walls of his home as the clock stroke 8 PM. The winter darkness had swallowed New York whole multiple hours ago, and the dwelling feeling of this specific day being that longest in a while was stuck in Jake’s tired, cold bones. Yes, today had felt torturously long, but it wasn’t because of the dark season (a national depression and whatnot) or the fact that he’d been out the door for 12 hours by now. No, all day long it’d felt like his phone and hands were constantly burning in what was clearly a move with the intention of provoking him. His body wanted to text Amy so bad; the faster he did that, the sooner he’d (hopefully) get to see her again. Yet he managed to refrain from doing so, figuring that Amy Santiago wouldn’t give anyone or anything but her job the time of day during official work hours.

Next thing he knew and before his thoughts could carry him elsewhere, the sound of a few light steps approached from the living room. Meanwhile he shrugged off his coat to abandon it on its designated hanger; right next to hers and above the already kicked off shoes.

“Hey,” he heard a warm voice welcome his eyes to switch in the direction of its owner. Here they met a pair of beautiful, welcoming brown irises. Not Amy’s warm brown irises though, he caught himself thinking… This was so wrong.

Immediately upon realising the betrayal his mind had just presented to him, Jake Peralta felt his heart skip a beat - the guilty kind - along with his gut dropping. It was indeed very wrong (even a rule he’d say) to compare ones current girlfriend, who was currently leaning against the doorframe connecting the living room to the entree, to an old friend slash colleague. Especially when you’d only talked to said old colleague for 3 minutes the very same morning. Her leaning hip elegantly as ever nudged the rest of her figure out of her resting position with his direction as target. “How was your day? It’s kinda late and I was getting worried about you.” Slender hands slid onto his waist as if they were making their way back home, reminding Jake of the fact that there was indeed nothing to worry about. Not when the incredibly stunning and smart Sophia Perez was gripping onto his knitted sweater in order to keep him in place for a welcoming kiss to his purple, frozen lips.

“Sorry,” barely made it out against her lips. Pulling away was his next move. “I had a perp that didn’t exactly feel like confessing, so I had to stay in order to get him to talk. He was not a fan.”

“Always the hero, huh?” Sophia smiled cheekily before turning back around prior to walking back to whatever she’d been doing before he walked in. “I had to bring home an important case that’s due tomorrow, so I’m working on that and already ate… But I made sure to keep a portion of dinner for you. It’s ready to be put in the microwave.” Then she disappeared back into the living room.

“Thank you,” was all there was left for him to call out after her, before making his way to their kitchen. ‘Their kitchen’ was still such a weird concept to Jake; sure they’d been together for 4 years now and had lived together for almost two, but sharing his home with another person still seemed surreal to him. This was of course nothing personal against Sophia, but it’d taken Jake a while to get comfortable enough with the idea of sharing a home with a romantic partner - hence why it’d taken Sophia two years to convince him of the fact that his apartment was a hazardous climate and that sharing the bills in two would ease their respective economies. All that aside, they now shared a quite nice apartment not too far from the 99th precinct and once again there was actual food on the table instead of his usual ‘chocolate milk with whatever cereal was in his cupboard that day’-combo. Not that he expected Sophia to cook or do anything for him… It was more a case of Sophia not really letting him, because she was afraid of him messing up, which to Jake himself seemed to be a fair judgement of character. What a chaos it would’ve been if he’d ended up with someone who couldn’t cook.

Whilst waiting for his food to be heated by the microwave as it quietly purred in the background, Jake suddenly realised he’d actually managed to forget about the burning phone in his pocket. For approximately three minutes. Nice. Without any further hesitation he grabbed the device from the right front pocket of his jeans and  swiped it open before immediately clicking the green ‘contacts’ button; dear God, he hoped he still had her number. If not, he’d probably kill- Oh wait, there it was. Jake instantly felt his heart settle again. Yet just as quickly as it had settled, his veins started pumping and of course his heart followed behind, racing again just as his shaky thumb clicked her name then ‘send message’.

Elsewhere, still in her old apartment, Amy Santiago heard her phone give off a rumbling sound that was too loud to ignore. A sigh escaped her otherwise relaxed body in frustration caused by the fact that she’d forgotten to take her phone off vibrate. Trying to fight the global phone-addiction, she liked her evenings undisturbed and preferably without unnecessary use of any gadgets. Though she had to admit that this interruption was no one else but her own fault; and Jake Peralta’s, she mentally added shortly after having put down her book and pushed herself off the couch to check on whoever was trying to reach her after 8 PM. A small, some would say guilty even, grin let its presence be known at the sight before her. Of course it was him; who else?

Jake Peralta: Didnt have ur email saved in my contacts. Sorry:(

Creative, funny enough for her to breath out a chuckle. Even though it was just a few words, Amy had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised by how unquestionably their dynamic fell back into place; something she’d lacked ever since her transfer.

Amy Santiago: I’ll let it slide this one time.

Waiting, staring at the three taunting dots, holding her breath.

Jake Peralta: cool cool cool. so i was thinkin saturday. shaw’s. 8 pm. cool?

Jake’s lack of upper case letters was a mess, which could only cause Amy to feel physically uncomfortable. She was just about to allow herself to comment on it; had he not gone to school? Though she refrained and thus it was quickly replaced by more important matters such as verifying her neatly structured calendar. It would be a lie though, if she claimed to not have made a mental note; Jake really needed to step up his texting game and formal requirements. Simply the thought of his supposed, messy work mails caused yet another shudder, whilst her fingers directed the conversation in a completely different direction.

Amy Santiago: Just checked my calendar and we’re in the clear. Saturday at 8 it is. Hope you’ve gotten better at pool.

In his comfortable spot on his and Sophia’s couch as yet another episode of Queer Eye introduced itself, Jake tried to act if he wasn’t actually afraid of not getting a reply; as if he didn’t fear the fact that Amy had agreed to meet up just to be polite and get rid of him that very same morning. He tried to act as if that would be okay ‘cause it’s not like they meant more to each other than the average old friend slash colleague. People came and went; Jake knew that better than anyone. Though that didn’t mean that he was actually good at playing it off as okay - especially when ‘people’ could potentially be Amy Santiago. Mercifully, a buzz coming from the arm rest beside him drew his attention away from the warm dinner before him and spiralling thoughts. There was no questioning the fact that he did indeed reach for the buzzing device way too fast, but all that fell aside when the lock screen’s preview of the text caused his heart to swell with joy.

Jake Peralta: deal. and dont worry. i’ve been practicing. ur ass will be whooped by 9

A feeling of a potential catastrophe came rushing through his entire body as soon as his finger had pressed the ‘send’ button. Perhaps your third text in five years to an old friend shouldn’t include her ass; especially when you own ass was far from single and definitely had felt… emotions towards said old friend at some point in time. Fumbling fingers quickly typed out a desperate, probably pointless, redeem before yet again hitting ‘send’.

Jake Peralta: sorry!! that was really inappropriate!

“Fuck,” he furiously locked his phone, mad at himself, at the exact same time as the back of his head hit the back of his couch in defeat. Well, if she had no reason to back out before, she definitely had now. Billions of minutes went by (or so it felt) before another buzz drew the heavy head off the back of the couch in a quick snap. In a spur of moment it all very much felt like the pivotal moment of his entire life.

Amy Santiago: Title of your sex tape?

Oxygen once again poured right into his lungs, allowing his chest to open up and his breath to unhinge from the brief, horrid intermission. The widest smile in forever (compared to what, he didn’t exactly know) formed on his tired yet now very content face. Their relationship really hadn’t changed and apparently the student had become the teacher.

Though ‘Saturday at 8 PM’ had seemed lightyears away on that Wednesday, for both Jake and Amy, the weekend and day finally emerged. Unbeknownst to the opposite party, one was more nervous and excited than the other. They’d sent each other a few texts during those few days; small jokes, remarks and other whatnots without importance. Little did they know that every single notification made the other’s heart jump to their throats for just a nanosecond - every damn time.

Amy Santiago: I’m at Shaw’s. Got us two seats in the right corner booth. Where are you?

Jake Peralta: its only 7.48!.. whatever. shouldve known i never had a fighting chance. see ya in 10

Amy chuckled to herself after leaving her phone face down on the oh so familiar, wooden table. Seemingly out of nowhere, the strong familiarity of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks: Sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, the smoke from multiple lit cigarettes mixed with the smell of alcohol, waiting for an iconically late Jake, sipping on a cheap beer… If she hadn’t known any better, Amy could’ve sworn that she was back in 2014. There was no way she’d ever say it out loud, because that would mean actually acknowledging it, but she sometimes wished she actually was back in 2014. This would imply still working at the Nine-Nine and more importantly the fact that she’d get a second chance at choosing a different path for herself. A path that didn’t bring her away from what she’d forever consider her favourite work place and best friends; more precisely a path that didn’t bring her so far away from the possibility of getting closer to a certain idiot, sweet manchild. Sometimes she even caught herself redhanded thinking, daydreaming about what they could’ve possibly resulted in if she’d just stayed. If only she’d just stuck around long enough for her to realise that Teddy wasn’t a match and Jake possibly was… If not perfect then maybe at least better.

She must’ve been staring at the tip of her beer bottle for quite some time seeing that as soon as she allowed her eyes to leave it, she gazed right at a smiling Jake Peralta. Almost like he’d walked right out of her guilty daydream.

“7.59,” he briefly threw a glance at his phone, before putting it down on the table. “Nailed it.”

There was that stupid, racing heartbeat again, Amy thought to herself in the midst of trying to play it off with a welcoming smile and what she hoped was a smooth answer. “I’m impressed. Just for that? First drink is on me.” She pushed a second beer, unopened, in his direction. Prepared as always.

“First drink? Damn, Santiago,” he slid himself into the narrow booth and seated himself next to her. “Are you planning on getting me drunk?”

“Shut up.” Honestly? Yes. But she couldn’t admit to that so she settled for a classic eye roll. That at least always seemed to get her out of these kinds of situations, where she hopelessly needed to run from her secret wishes.

“Here’s to reunions and old friendships,” Jake raised his beer into the air, implicitly asking Amy to make this their little moment.

“I’ll drink to that,” Amy complied, clinking her bottle against his before taking a slurp.

Moving forward, flow of the conversation was smooth and seemed infinite. As a surprise to no one, they had a lot to catch up on and there was no sparing of details or sidetracks. The rabbit hole that was their five years apart was wide agape, and with alcohol added to the mix, there was no stopping them. Their phones never left their screen down positions on the table before them, and their eyes never left the other’s. This was continuously the case until they were both three drinks in and Jake’s phone suddenly pinged.

“Sorry. Just a sec,” the beer in his hand was replaced by his phone. “Must be Sophia asking where I am.”

Sophia. Amy mentally repeated the name, analysing it, trying to put it into a fitting context but alas failed. It must’ve shown on her face. She was never good at hiding her true emotions - especially confusion, where her frowning brows would always act as snitches.

“Oh, wait…” an almost regretful, nervous even, expression presented itself on Jake’s face. “You don’t know Sophia, right?” Why did he have a culpable feeling of not wanting her to either? Things were going so well. It might not have been morally right if so, but Jake couldn’t help but consider that an evening without mentioning Sophia would’ve been easier… He knew things with Amy could never head in certain directions, but he also knew that there would’ve been nothing illegal about forgetting about certain things for just a couple of hours, right? Temporarily allowing himself to forget that Amy had left, eliminating alternative fates for their relationship, thus leading him onto a path right into Sophia’s arms. Alas, it too late. There was no way around it, and Jake had to act like he didn’t absolutely loath the cards that were now clearly on the table. “I met Sophia about a year after you transferred to Major Crimes. She’s…” Jake interrupted himself by taking a finishing gulp of his now empty beer. “She’s great. We live together in an apartment near the Nine-Nine and we’re enga- she’s uh-… my fiancée.”

If he didn’t know any better, Jake could’ve sworn that his old friend’s otherwise golden brown eyes were suddenly eclipsed b a darker shade that he couldn’t quite recognise. All he knew was that it could compare to the way sinister thunderclouds would overtake a clear spring day.

“Oh, that’s…” He saw her struggle to form words, her dark eyes returning to the old habit of centralising on inanimate objects rather than people, whenever she needed a second to form her upcoming sentence. “That’s… amazing!” her eyes were redirected back to his, paired with a weirdly contrasting smile. “I’m so happy for you, Jake. You deserve that.”

If it wasn’t because he consciously forced himself to not overanalyse every single thing she said or did that evening, Jake would’ve been worried by this immediate switch of mood. Yet he let it be, acting as if everything was as it should be. “Thank you.” That was a start, Jake thought. “Yeah, I’m… very happy.” He begged to God that he sounded more convincing than he felt. Why was he feeling like this? He was far from unhappy with Sophia and there was no justifying his opposing thoughts nor his feelings.

“Good. That’s the most important, right?”

God, he hated that he loved the way she tilted her head, whenever she would ask a rhetorical question. “Of course… But uh- what about you? Got a lucky guy?” Though he was definitely tipsy by then, he was nowhere near drunk enough for this conversation. Just the fact that he felt the need to be drunk for this particular conversation was reason enough to get drunk.

“No,” she smiled. Not sadly, because Amy Santiago surely didn’t need a man. But maybe her smile was just unaccented enough to imply that she needed something. This alone gave Jake a devilish and false sense of consolation. False in the sense that it was so wrong. On the other hand he also suddenly feel the need to figure out what this something was. “It’s just me, myself and my job,” she added.

“Well,” a comforting smile countered hers. The last thing he wanted was for her to interpret his question as criticising or demeaning. On the contrary, he actually admired (and always had) her professional drive and independence. “That’s not a bad thing. I’ll have you know…” He pushed himself out of booth for the first time since he’d arrived two hours prior, earning himself a confused look frown from Amy. “… I’ll drink to you and your admirable devotion to your job. Beer?”

Amy couldn’t point out if it was caused by the change in the way the lamp’s warm light hit him now that he was standing up; or if it was caused by him taking off his hoodie before throwing it where he’d been sitting, only to reveal his iconic and flattering flannel; or if it was caused by the buzz in her head and heating cheeks that made her wish he would peel of the remaining layers of clothing. Whatever it was, Amy Santiago was frustrated, yet happy - that collision of feelings itself was extra frustrating. She needed to fight it off the deeply wrong and forbidden thoughts with something. “Shots?”

“Shots.” He concluded, checking for his wallet. “Definitely.”

When Jake came back with four tiny glasses of some clear liquid. Amy didn’t recognise that nor the taste, when she downed her first shot seconds later with Jake back by her side. They’d gulped down one each, followed by Jake explaining her what it was, but she didn’t care at this point. All she wanted was to get back on track and forget the pre-shots conversation about the future Mrs. Peralta.

[eliminari]

RULES

Hewwo! Mun’s name is Lago or Lake, I’m 20 but bad at it. im a he OR they: pick one and stick to it edition. I don’t know what people want in these but the important bits are:

English is not my first language (it’s porch of geese) and I don’t care much for what I sound or write like. I suck at words and my vocabulary is self admittedly not that large. Learned english through vidya games and memes and all that jazz. I Dont Care For This Language Tm sorry. I’ll do some br posting from time to time probably and we can thread in pt if you’d like too! Assume all my characters are brazilian unless explicited otherwise.

I’m very busy 80% of the time. If I’m here I’m probably procrastinating somehow.

I’m very friendly, talk to me about bones, boats and animals! help me with homework also, I’m dying.

You can ask for my discord if you’d like to talk, but be warned: i AM shy and im bad at replying consistently. but i WILL usually text back! takes me a bit though.

The main Character of this blog is Réquiem. he's... i don't know what he is, honestly. he's an "original species" of some sort, born out of abandoned things such as buildings and other general physical spaces, objects and sometimes people.

Pronouns are (by order of preference) he, it OR they. If you pick one, you stick to it consistently AT LEAST throughout the conversation.

He will be weird. I don't know him yet, i just want to know where he goes.

This blog will contain untagged unreality themes, liminal spaces and other "weirdcore" kind of content. I'm bad at consistently tagging so I'm simply not going to try because that's his whole thing. Follow at your own risk if this is triggering to you.

I’m usually very open about literally everything that goes on my blog, but here’s some quick RULES you might want to keep in mind:

Tag anti/proship discourse for me please and thank you.

18+ only, she’ll be horny on main and she doesn’t care enough to make a sideblog for that. She might sw33t talk your character also if she feels like it. and PLEASE, if she does that and it makes you uncomfy SAY SO. She won’t repeat it and won’t press on the subject.

DMs open and unless stated otherwise, i assume all DMs are in character.

If you wanna talk about anything, you can just message me privately @ any of my other blogs or through here.

Open for shipping for as long as the characters have an interesting dynamic.

Open for non mutuals! I usually follow back, though.

M!As are always open!

Gifts are welcome.

NSFW comments allowed.

OCs and canon characters of any fandom are WELCOME. Feel free to interact.

You must understand that IC is not OOC. I, the mun, am a real human person with feelings, and an extremely shy one at that. Please don’t be rude at me if you have no reason to be rude at me specifically. I don’t endorse the things my character do and say. réquiem is kind of a bad spirited creature. I’m just some guy.

Open for plot. Any and all plot. I love plotting!!!

I’m very forgetful. Feel free to remind me of a thread, i’ll be thankful.

I’m an android mobile dweller thus my blog is hideous on pc. My tags are simple. Look at the pinned post and they should be pretty obvious.

As a rule of thumb, I am not willing to ACTUALLY RP NSFW. I’m a “fade to black” person, we can still discuss what went down, but I don’t RP it.

I can’t stress how much I’m extremely out of touch with stuff. If you see any issues with anything I’m doing or someone I’m interacting with, message me. I actually don’t publicly take part of drama and discourse. I actively avoid that stuff because it’s triggering!

DON’T BE MEAN to me about my characters ooc. I don’t care nor do i want to know if you don’t like them! If you don’t like me or my characters simply don’t interact.

I block and unfollow deliberately. Don’t take it personally. This goes both for tags and people that make me (the MUN) uncomfortable and for whatever other reason. if something becomes too much or gets upsetting on my dash i simply hit the bricks, specially if we’ve never really interacted before. I perform the flawless emancipate and evacuate approach. Block and dip. I’m here to have a fun time and I’ll curate my own experience to be able to do so.

[thejourneytofindingmyself]

The story so far

After 10 years of struggling with my mental health and having multiple diagnosis' along the way including OCD, social anxiety, anorexia nervosa and depression, I now recognise that the underlying factor causing my struggles may be undiagnosed autism.

Throughout my life I have felt like everyone has been given a guide book to tell them how to be human, how to behave and how to interact. All of these things are confusing to me. A year or so ago I remember asking my partner and family why people feel the need to say morning and bye when they leave the office. Before this, people would say morning to me and bye and I wouldn't say anything because I did not understand the need to? If I'm there or going, why say it? Isn't it obvious? I have learnt now that this is "normal" so I do it. I struggle with conversations. When is it my turn to speak? What should I reply? Am I giving the right amount of eye contact? Do i need to reply to that? When I talk to people, I don't feel the need to look at them but I know this is something that should be done? When I look at people it makes me very uncomfortable and I feel like eyes give out a lot of emotion which can be difficult to take in. I go through stages where I use certain sentences such as "I'll let you off" or "oh dear" or "right" in conversations, they seem to be my go to words when I am unsure what to say. A lot of my conversations are scripted and I say the things that feel right for that conversation.

Sometimes people talk to me and I have no idea what they are saying or what they mean. I often have to get people to repeat themselves and really force myself to concentrate in order to understand. I recently went out on a saturday for the first time ever with work colleagues and was asking someone I work with what I should talk about in the car on the way. She explained that you cant really plan it, it just depends on the conversation. It seems these things come natural to other people but for me they need to be planned and I worry about them a lot. I much prefer texting or emailing someone rather than actually going to them and saying something face to face. Even if I'm in the same room I prefer to do it just to avoid the interaction.

I know that I often come across as uninterested. And a lot of my replies are mainly yeah, yeah, yeah. I also find that I regularly reply in sentences with that's nice or I don't care. If something doesn't interest me or doesn't affect me, I dont tend to be bothered about it.

I sometimes repeat what people say. Especially when with my partner Meg or people I am more comfortable around. This is because it sometimes helps me to process it and I just get the urge to repeat it. I often say phrases or songs relating to an object or what we are talking about for an example when moving the doorbell, "ding dong the Avon lady" 😂😂

A lot of the time people at work will say "I'm only joking!!!" And I don't realise. Sometimes the tone I use must be wrong or come across in a different way to what I mean. For example someone I work with saying I'm snapping and saying something like "give me my head back!!" But I do not mean for it to come across like that.

I hate training or team meetings etc. It is very overwhelming being with a lot of people. I could not participate in the activities in my recent training day. I just stayed sitting down when asked to get up and move around and talk to people. My manager has asked me regularly how these sitations make me feel as she can sense that I am uncomfortable however I haven't been able to find the words that's why I ended up writing all of my difficulties down to show her. Then during the day at training, I ended up leaving the room because things got too much. I often have to do this. Especially in busy places like restaurants. I also have to specifically pick the seat. "Dr Campbell says social masking requires considerable effort and this usually results in extreme exhaustion, necessitating periods of social isolation. "Some of my clients use the term 'peopling', so when they've been 'peopling' for a long time, that they would then like to have a period of not 'peopling'," she says."

At another training day a few months ago, I also really struggled with an introduction activity and found that I kept going to speak when the person delivering the training was still taking and I did not know at what point was my turn. I feel like maybe this was the trigger point of my recent low episode. I was really embarrassed and thought why cant I just be normal and know what to say and do. I never know whether people have just paused or finished talking? I also find it difficult when people don't say what they mean. I need people to be very direct with me. An example of this is a manager at work saying that she walks further to smoke, I asked if it's in case she gets wrong off the big boss and she said yes however I still stood in the same place to smoke and didn't realise till that night when discussing it with my partner that this might have been a hint. I feel I spend a lot of time going over conversations I have had with people and what was said. I also have found that people say to me a lot including my managers, what are you trying to say??? When I am trying to explain a situation.

Another example of difficulties with social situations is getting a takeaway. I forgot once that we needed to pay with cash and I just shut the door in his face whilst i went and got the money and didn't realise how inappropriate this was to not say two seconds. Another example, someone talking to me in the lift on holiday and I got out and didn't say bye? Only realised this wasn't normal when I told my partner. Another example when people want to small talk. There is just no need for this. I would prefer to sit in silence. When people say comments such as "watch the floor", I actually stood still at work recently when a cleaner said this and was going to watch the floor until I realised that they meant not to actually watch the floor. I find that I take things very literally. I remember as a child when an advert was on the telly and I literally thought nannas knit shreddies. Like why is banana bread called banana bread???? It isn't bread. As a child my mam took me to the doctors and I was diagnosed with OCD. I used to line up all my stuff on my dresser table and was very particular about things like needing my curtain tucked behind my radiator, needing all my teddies lined up in a certain way and needing my duvet tucked in a certain way. I needed to check windows were locked etc. Looking back, I also remember not playing with toys in a normal way. I used to like lining up my friends army men. I had bratz and polly pockets but didn't necessarily play with them. I would line them up and dress and undress them. I would love going round friends houses and cleaning their rooms/organising their stuff. Growing up I have really struggled with mental health and developed anorexia in school. In school, I struggled with relationships. I felt I had to fit in. I completely left my primary school friends and dressed and tried to be like the "popular" people. In primary school I regularly fell out with friends and moved from one "best friend" to another. I also struggled knowing how to maintain friendships and found I was very intense and all or nothing. Friendships are also always still only on my terms. I was invited out for dinner with the "popular" group in secondary but I never talked or joined in because I didn't know how. I went to Alton towers with one of the girls and she fell out with me after because we did not talk whilst we were there. I get very attached to people very quickly. Will say love you etc.. My reports started to decline in secondary school and I regularly got detentions and sent out of classrooms for attempting to be the class clown and fit in. Looking back I think this was copied behaviour. In school and college I also developed intense relationships with some teachers I felt I connected with. I would often leave class to seek out these teachers and spent a lot of time out of lessons in student support. In college and university, I refused to work with other people. I preferred it on my own. I would sit outside the classroom in college to do my work because I preferred it and found the class to loud. In university, I only really had one friend and again hated working with other people and group work. I much prefer to be able to do things my way and don't like sharing ideas or communicating. I have found that I got bullied in college a lot because of leaving lessons and people thinking I was a "snob" because I did not talk. I still find it difficult to be friends with people and find that I don't know the right way to be ? How often should I talk to them, should I send another message, do they not like me they haven't replied? It's all very confusing. I also find it difficult knowing what the boundaries are with my managers and how "cheeky" I can be??? I will also go through stages where I eat certain things repeatedly for a few weeks and then wont eat them again for a while. This was even more so the case when I was a teenager with anorexia.

A couple of years ago my 4 year old niece was diagnosed with autism. Last year I dealt with a case, a 16 year old girl who had autism but was not diagnosed until she was 17. I found a lot of similarities between myself and this girl and found I could really relate to her difficulties including self harm, depression and school issues. I also went to a training event around autism in girls and masking and found a lot of similarities. I am also now working with an 11 year old child who has not yet been diagnosed and find I can also relate and see a lot of similarities with what he says. For example issues with waiting. I hate waiting and get really really anxious. And issues with routine. I love routine and find it really difficult if my partner just says should we go out somewhere. I like things to be planned. He also paces around the room. I tend to do this if I am anxious or waiting.

I constantly bounce my leg and find that it is soothing. It helps to lower my anxiety. At home I also find that I will start doing things such as rocking without even noticing and moving my feet or toes. I also spend most of the time chewing my gums or lips and think this is an anxiety related thing.

I struggle with other day to day stuff. Like knowing left and right. Reading a 24 hour clock. Constantly losing things, even if I have just had them. Losing my phone, my keys. All the time. This really stresses me out. I will have it a minute ago and then just cant find it. A lot of the time when I am walking into a room with people in or feeling overwhelmed I will dig my nails in to my fingers or hand. Or in the shops.

Prior to taking antidepressants, I would really get angry and would do things such as hit myself and punch things if things were not right. For example my hair on a morning needs to feel perfect, or if I couldn't find a place to park my car. I still get really annoyed at the smallest things.

I also get really overwhelmed about things for example on a night knowing we have to have tea, clean the house, do the dishes, have a shower ect. This overwhelms me and I get angry about this at times. This leads to me snapping at people. I like a routine of having a bath by 6pm and having tea around 7.30pm.

Although I do struggle with things at work such as talking to people and knowing how to interact with colleagues etc, it doesn't affect my role. I feel as if my role is very structured and routined. I feel I do relate to "masking" at work and this is why I am often so exhausted when I get home.

I feel like it often takes me quite a while to respond to people because I need time for me to know what to reply. I only realise I don't reply straight away when people are waiting for an answer. I also don't often understand emotions. How I am feeling and how other people are feeling. I often have the view, shit happens. The child I spoke about earlier recently said to me "I didn't learn how to feel in primary". I got that. I struggle with these things to. I struggle to be empathetic and understand other people's views and emotions. My grandad died recently, while he was poorly I would say to people when they asked how he was "dying" people thought this was blunt and brutal but it was the truth. And after he died i would regularly come out with my grandads dead. I think this was my way of trying to process it.

I am also really blunt and straight to the point with people. For example "you can leave now". "Your pissing me off" I don't really think about how my comments might impact someone. I remember when I was around my childminders at about the age of 8 or 9 and i said to someone "are you not going home yet I'm sick of the sight of your face". I remember my childminder being absolutely gob smacked at this.

I really struggle with "fashion" and what goes together. I much prefer just feeling comfortable.

Sometimes when I get home from work I literally could just lie in darkness in bed and not talk for the rest of the night.

I often have to be told instructions multiple times and prefer things wrote down as this is easier for me to process and understand.

I regularly set alarms and write lists to plan the day.

I feel like through the years I have used things to cope with life such as anorexia and in turn has resulted in different diagnoses including OCD, anorexia, social anxiety and depression but I feel like there is still something underlying and something that makes me different. It is getting exhausting pretending to be "normal" all the time and not knowing why I am the way I am.

"It seems that other people's normality was the road to my insanity"

"Many of us do not realise how much of our true selves we have been masking until we feel utterly lost"

[moonshugar]

Search Voat Limit to v/pizzagate Submission Info Posted by: Johnny3names Posting time: 2 months ago on 12/13/2016 4:35:31 AM Last edit time: never edited. Traffic stats Views: 2645 Score SCP: 75 80 upvotes, 5 downvotes (94% upvoted it) Share a link Discuss pizzagate unsubscribe block 12204 subscribers ~1837 users here now Darknet Hack DATA COLLATION MEGATHREAD Pizzagate Subverse Network /v/AskPizzagate – Pizzagate-related questions /v/pizzagatewhatever – anything Pizzagate-related /v/PizzagateMemes – Pizzagate memes /v/pizzagatemods – meta concerns and Pizzagate moderation discussion Submission Requirements Please review BEFORE you submit content. Submissions not meeting these requirements will be removed. 1 ALL submissions should be directly related to Pizzagate, and this is how we define Pizzagate. It is the responsibility of the poster to demonstrate relevance. In most cases this will require a Discussion post where you provide a brief explanation of how your content relates to the investigation. Sometimes there will be content (like an article on Pizzagate) where a link post with an accurate, descriptive title will be enough to satisfy this requirement. 2 EVERY claim that is made as part of your post needs to be sourced. If you are asking a question, give a brief summary of what led to your question, and provide sources for those elements. If you are giving an explanation of how your content relates to Pizzagate (satisfying Rule 1), and you need to connect a few dots to do so, please provide sources for your "dots". If you wish to ask general questions about Pizzagate, please do so HERE. 3 LINK posts (VIDEO, IMAGE, ARTICLE, etc.) all need to include an accurate description of the actual content. If you can't provide an accurate summary in the title of a Link post then you must submit it as a Discussion post where you provide the link with a brief description of the content. 4 META submissions and general discussion submissions without sources will be removed. To avoid diluting the front page, please make those sorts of submissions HERE. Please bring any meta concerns you have HERE (this is also where the mods will discuss moderating the sub, so you are welcome to participate in those conversations as well). 5 Standalone MEMES will be removed. Please post standalone memes HERE. If you feel that a given meme can be used to raise awareness, please link it as part of a Discussion post where you source the elements that it is related to and discuss the best ways to use it. If you want to discuss the accuracy of a meme, again, link it in a Discussion post that sources the relevant elements from the investigation. 6 NSFW submissions (gore, nudity, etc.) must be labeled as such. This is not an adult subverse. Adspam, illegal content, and personal info about Voat subscribers will be removed, and the offender will be banned. Moderator Rules and On-Demand Removal Explanations Submission Removal Log WARNING! Due to the nature of this investigation, some links could result in the opening of incriminating material. Always practice common sense before clicking links, and make sure you're browsing safely. Use archive.is to archive and distribute sources. Links Resources for Investigators Memes and Infographics List of Independent Pizzagate Subverses List of External Pizzagate Sites – Stay secure! Chatroom #voatpizzagatemain:matrix.org (Riot) created by kingkongwaswrong a community for 3 months Advertisement Eat my ass Want to advertize on Voat? message the moderators MODERATORS kingkongwaswrong [O] Crensch [O] heygeorge [D] VictorSteinerDavion [O] Millennial_Falcon [M] rktyp [J] belphegorsprime [M] wecanhelp [M] l4l1lul3l0 [J] Kwijibo [J] Vindicator [M] abortionburger [J] SpikyAube [J] sensitive [J] MODERATION LOGS Removed submissions Removed comments Banned users 80 Nancy Pelosi and husband accused of shipping little boys in for Harry Reid back in 2014... (pizzagate) submitted 2 months ago by Johnny3names I posted this over on the shipping thread already but... Idk how dependable this publication is but I just ran across a post from 2014 accusing Pelosi and her husband of using his business to ship in little boys for Harry Reid. Anybody know what business her husband's in or a company name? His wikipedia page just makes some vague reference to American businesses with no real specifics. Well, today we found out, from the same unimpeachable whistleblower who gave us the information about Reid, that Nancy Pelosi has been Reid’s primary supplier of little boys. Apparently her husband has a multinational business and he’s been shipping in children for Harry.> http://conservativebyte.com/2014/03/harry-reids-pedophile-nancy-pelosi-supplying-children/ Harry Reid has been one of the asshole faces everywhere you look lately pushing one line of bullshit or another, Idk if this is it but he's got some kind of baggage somewhere. 31 comments unsave source report sort by: New Bottom Intensity Old Sort: Top [–] coincidencesmyass 8 points (+8|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) Not that it's proof or anything, but I've always thought that Nancy Pelosi's wide eyes looked psychopathic. Her eyes remind me of the eyes of the guy with the dyed orange/red hair that shot up that movie theater. His are worse, but still, her eyes are not the eyes of an average person. permalink save source reply report [–] Bulgakov 4 points (+4|-0) 2 months ago  I always assumed her plastic surgeon didn't do an even job...really opened that one eye permalink parent save source reply report [–] Johnny3names [S] 3 points (+3|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) More of these assholes than not look weird af with either bugged out or bird of prey eyes. They all remind me of the Skeksis from the 80's Jim Henson movie The Dark Chrystal or Montgomery Burns from the Simpsons and Mitch McConnell has a face like a shaved droopy nutsack wearing glasses. No one can ever say "never woulda guessed". permalink parent save source reply report [–] rail606 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  What you dont like?JPG permalink parent save source reply report 1 reply [–] it_was_foretold 3 points (+3|-0) 2 months ago  wide-eyes think mk-ultra permalink parent save source reply report [–] [deleted] 3 points (+3|-0) 2 months ago  [Deleted] parent [–] coincidencesmyass 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  ethic-eze, I love it. The men have the cremation of care at Bohemian Grove, maybe the Stepford wives are given medication. permalink parent save source reply report [–] blind_sypher 2 points (+2|-0) 2 months ago  You can always tell by their eyes. permalink parent save source reply report [–] Forgetmenot 6 points (+6|-0) 2 months ago  Harry Reid was absolutely not happy about bannons appointment to trumps cabinet. http://www.cnn.com/2016/11/15/politics/harry-reid-donald-trump-steven-bannon-floor-speech/index.html Could it be because bannon might be aware of the same information that Andrew breitbart was tweeting about? There was also a video where breitbart yells what is in your closet podesta but I cannot find it. Maybe someone can post it. http://www.infowars.com/andrew-breitbarts-chilling-podesta-tweet-from-the-grave/ permalink save source reply report [–] FyndersKeepers 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  It can be safely assumed Breitbart filled Bannon in on everything that Bannon wasn't already privvy to. permalink parent save source reply report [–] hashtaggery 4 points (+4|-0) 2 months ago  Have you looked into Paul Pelosi Jr (her son)? He seems to hang around with a rough crowd - James E. Cohen / Joseph Corazzi. I'll dig around to see what I can find. permalink save source reply report [–] LearningTheLessons 4 points (+4|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) In the comments of this article about Bengazi someone posts "Nancy Pelosi's husband was the money manager for the Muslim Brotherhood in Turkey, when they were married in 1963. It's in their wedding announcement in the NY Times. Pelosi's husband has been orchestrating from behind the scenes." http://www.washingtonsblog.com/2014/04/real-benghazi-story.html permalink parent save source reply report [–] LearningTheLessons 2 points (+2|-0) 2 months ago  http://gawker.com/5113868/paul-pelosi-jr-the-fresh-green-prince-of-san-francisco permalink parent save source reply report [–] jbooba 2 points (+2|-0) 2 months ago  This is another hint ..: Pelosi’s daughter leads effort to block Trump through Electoral College permalink save source reply report [–] FyndersKeepers 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  A hint treading on giveaway grounds. permalink parent save source reply report [–] Mrs_Ogynist01 2 points (+2|-0) 2 months ago  Utah is perusing a $2 million bribe case against Reid. http://www.sltrib.com/home/4533272-155/a-2m-check-harry-reid-and permalink save source reply report [–] 28leinad82 2 points (+2|-0) 2 months ago  a lot of emails from nancy and about her in the podesta wikileaks if you want to dig further. permalink save source reply report [–] BRING_DOWN_THE_RING 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  Well, there's always the Pelosi Goat Hill Pizza thing... http://magafeed.com/guccifer-2-0-nancy-pelosis-goat-hill-pizza-may-be-a-front-company/ permalink save source reply report [–] ALDO_NOVA 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) http://www.sfgate.com/politics/article/Pelosi-s-husband-prefers-a-low-profile-2660253.php " the couple's net worth, most of it linked to Paul Pelosi's investments, has made the Nancy the ninth-richest person in the House(of Representatives)." permalink save source reply report [–] surgit2 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  She and her husband Paul own a Napa Valley vineyard: http://www.latimes.com/politics/la-pol-ca-richest-nancy-pelosi-vineyard-story.html permalink save source reply report [–] The_Kuru 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  The reason they promote people to the top positions who are horribly compromised like Hastert and Reid is that they can be trusted. Same reason that you have to be destroyable before you can be "made" in the mafia. permalink save source reply report [–] [deleted] 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  [Deleted] [–] Votescam 3 points (+3|-0) 2 months ago  Goat Hill Pizaa http://magafeed.com/guccifer-2-0-nancy-pelosis-goat-hill-pizza-may-be-a-front-company/ The owner of Goat Hill Pizza is Philip DeAndrade. as per this article from October 2016 He was a former staff member of Nanci Pelosi as recently as 2013 which can be found in the document ‘NP STAFF LIST UPDATED.xlsx’. Suggest a few others involved in purchase: Monley, Dickinson, Lipski Goat Hill Pizza is owned by Goat Hill Inc. Another website reports: BREAKING: Guccifer 2.0 - Nancy Pelosi’s Goat Hill Pizza Restaurant Is A Front Company Used To Funnel Money To The Democrats. Goat Hill Pizza is REGISTERED IN PANAMA. Who registers a pizza place that is in San Francisco in Panama? https://www.reddit.com/r/The_Donald/comments/55w48s/breaking_guccifer_20_nancy_pelosis_goat_hill/ permalink parent save source reply report [–] LargePepperoni 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  You know about her and Goat Hill Pizza? permalink save source reply report [–] Johnny3names [S] 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  Not at all, but I grew up in the bay and I shit you not my HS Social Studies teacher was married to one of the owners. The mf didn't believe in deoderant and taught in an inner classroon with no fucking windows, it was insane. permalink parent save source reply report [–] VictorDaniels777 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  Harry Reid hasn't gotten enough attention. Nice lead. permalink save source reply report [–] sunshine702 4 points (+4|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) Harry Reid resigned his office in such an abrupt fashion. Not long after this happened: http://www.nytimes.com/politics/first-draft/2015/01/02/reid-is-hospitalized-after-exercise-accident/ There are some whispers about a "Mr. Exercise Equipment" paying him a visit at home over Christmas week but who knows?! permalink parent save source reply report [–] CadiBug 1 points (+1|-0) 2 months ago  (edited 2 months ago) "Mr. Exercise Equipment" = Ried's younger brother I believe permalink parent save source reply report [–] quantokitty 0 points (+0|-0) 2 months ago  Paul Pelosi is a land developer. https://www.google.com/#q=nancy+pelosi%27s+husband "Paul Francis Pelosi, Sr. is an American businessman who owns and operates Financial Leasing Services, Inc., a San Francisco, California-based real estate and venture capital investment and consulting firm. Wikipedia" Then there's the gifting of Treasure Island to this b*tch. This article leaves out that Clinton forced the military to sell the land. https://sadbastards.wordpress.com/2009/01/28/the-real-nancy-pelosi-multi-millionaire-non-union-resort-baroness/ permalink save source reply report [–] madmanpg 0 points (+0|-0) 2 months ago  As much as I wish this were true, "I heard Harry Reid touches little boys" has been a meme for a long time, mainly in response to his unsubstantiated claims that Mitt Romney cheated on his taxes during the 2012 election. He claimed to have an anonymous source but never produced them or any evidence, and his announcement of the baseless charge on the Senate floor was seen as proof that he was a slimy, ruthless piece of amphibian shit. I am looking forward to when he drops dead, and I really don't doubt that he's a kid-toucher if pizzagate turns out to be real...but going to any conservative blog for that source is going to be a dead end. permalink save source reply report