#boston police department

[aesthetic--mood]

Maura Isles Aesthetic

[coveredinmetaldust]

I Can Think of 1,312 Reasons Not to Trust the BPD's Recollection of Events

It's nice to see the youth keeping up the tradition of peacefully protesting, and then having the Boston Police Department respond with a completely disproportionate escalation of violence. It’s downright nostalgic considering what we are seeing at Emerson College is exactly what I saw happen first hand in the late 2010s during and after the Occupy Boston protests. You’d think after a decade and change the BPD would stop being scared shitless of unarmed liberal arts majors in their early 20s, but here we are.

It’s uncanny: we're seeing the exact same playbook from the police, while the media trips over themselves to find ways to minimize their brutality. Just as before, many media outlets are trying to sweep the bodily harm inflicted on the protesters under the rug, while obsequiously reporting on the poor officers who got kinda hurt while they were wearing full riot gear to beat the ever-loving shit out of unarmed protestors.

But to anyone who has been paying attention, the BPD have proven time and time again that they are a gang of heavily-armed thugs who are just itching for any excuse to use the fancy military-grade gear that we paid for with our tax dollars. (Though it is funny how they never seem to use those bullet-proof vests or other tactical gear when heavily-armed militant white supremacists protest...)

None of this surprises me anymore; the police in Massachusetts are openly corrupt to a downright cartoonish degree. Even in my home town that is 40 minutes west of Boston, you have officers who are lionized by officials despite being infamous amongst the community—because when they are off-duty they've worked as hired goons for the local mega-landlord to rough up tenants who are late on rent.

As the news coverage continues, remember not to give the police the benefit of the doubt nor any good will, and remember that the media has a history of downplaying their actions while taking their side. Also, do not let them gaslight you into thinking this is a freak occurrence—because this is standard operating procedure.

But above all else, remember that all cops are bastards.

[musicshelfwithmustard]

Get Ready for Date Nite

Mustard had the pleasure of speaking with Boston's Date Nite. Together we discussed their ideal date night, Applebee's, their upcoming debut single "Roller Derby Decapitation", and so much more!

Mustard had the pleasure of speaking with Boston’s Date Nite. Together we discussed their ideal date night, Applebee’s, their upcoming debut single “Roller Derby Decapitation”, and so much more! 1. Mustard is grateful to have Date Nite join them at Music Shelf. How is everyone?  As a collective, we’re great because we’re doing this interview right before a Boston show. Additionally thirsty and…

[reportwire]

Boston Police Look for Nah-Tayleigh Brown – NECN

Boston Police Look for Nah-Tayleigh Brown – NECN

A girl from Boston’s Roxbury neighborhood has been missing for nearly a week, police said Thursday, asking for the public’s help in finding her. Nah-Tayleigh Brown was reported missing from her home, in Roxbury’s Dewey Terrace, on Saturday, and was last seen about 6 p.m. Friday, Boston police said. Police did not initially give Nah-Tayleigh’s age, but later said she is 13. Officers spoke to her…

[africanamericanreports]

Mayor Michelle Wu announced the appointment of Roxbury native and former Dorchester resident Michael Cox as the 44th Commissioner of the Boston Police Department. Cox currently serves as the Chief of Police of the Ann Arbor Police Department in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Prior to his appointment to that position in 2019, Cox was a 30-year veteran of the Boston Police Department. He will begin serving in his new role on August 15, 2022.

[gubsbuubs]

Friendly Cupid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.

Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.

A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

My requests are open!

English is not my first language.

The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.

We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.

From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.

I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.

I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.

Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"

"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.

"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."

"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.

Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.

"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.

So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.

We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.

When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.

And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.

I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.

These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.

Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.

So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.

Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.

The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.

With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.

So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.

Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.

"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.

"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.

"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.

"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.

"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.

"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.

"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.

"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.

“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.

As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence���both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?

Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.

Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.

Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.

Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"

"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Saturday night came around pretty quickly.

I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.

What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.

Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.

My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.

As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."

“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.

“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.

"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.

"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.

"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."

"What? Why?"

He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.

"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

I smiled softly, reaching  my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."

He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”

“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.

Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.

To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.

The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.

Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.

To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.

Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.

The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.

As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?

My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.

As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.

"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.

"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.

"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.

"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.

I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.

Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.

"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.

"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.

"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.

“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.

“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”

The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.

As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."

As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.

"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"

"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.

The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.

I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.

"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.

"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"

"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."

I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”

As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.

"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.

"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."

"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.

"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.

"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.

"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.

"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."

As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.

"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.

"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."

His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.

The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.

"Wow," Spencer whispered.

"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.

"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.

His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.

"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?

Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.

As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.

I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.

I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.

Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.

Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"

A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."

The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.

He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.

Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.

"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.

He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.

“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.

"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.

"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.

"I need you," I pleaded.

"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.

Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.

Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.

Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.

The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.

"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.

"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.

"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”

"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.

Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.

As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."

Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."

I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.

Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #61 - Words, Just Words Experience of 2022

JOURNAL ENTRY #61

Name: Manley M Collins

Social Security Number: 5 7 9 – * * – 6 5 4 1

Date of Birth: 06/21

Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia

Country of Birth: United States of America

Date: June 21, 2022  (Note Previous Experiences will be posted, this is posting of significance covering a time period from 2018 to 2022).

Words, just words…I am facing the fears of my psychological foundations while standing still, moving nowhere, little materialism, zero purpose accounts closing, old school and new school social networks running, and stopped doing distractions that has no purpose or result.  Down to the final three (3) states of my routine travel schedule, Massachusetts, Georgia, South Carolina, plus United States of America Track and Field (USATF) Association track meets to cities and states I never been to or have little record of me.   Eliminated or downsized and letting go – New York (Over Words, not mad or angry, but solidified my travel schedule, supports my 2030 decision, and making sure my United States passport comes out pristine) and Illinois (Over Storage Drives). Words, just words.  Year eight (8) count down from ten (10).  "Yep, they did Marvell ya'll."

Family, Friends, Acquaintances, Co-Workers, Associates, Fraternity Brothers, Classmates, and Teammates:

The Federal Government and State Government are still using me as a communication tool to reach folks not paying attention to regular media and apply updated laws.  Laws were updated for the use of technology and words in the English language in the United States of America.  One line of statement out of frustration directed at a large banking company for something the large banking company caused/did got me in trouble for trying to do different.

This type of pattern in my life of people or organizations doing something to get an out-of-character response has been happening since I was born.  I was telling the folks or organizations that suppose to help fix the problem, but no one listened except for this one frustrating statement to make me fear for my life and scared me a lot.  For all those like me that grew up with various forms of technology and different television shows, federal and state laws are updated/updating to include email, social media, texting, online or 800 number customer service, not to say things that make another person uncomfortable even if they are the cause of the problem, issue, and/or frustration.  All this because I did not know.

All folks out there using and learning the English language make sure to use the delete, undo, disappearing, etc., features, or mix the language with other languages.  Get creative, and I will continue telling, showing, doing, and sharing in English while in the United States of America.  USA dislikes me pulling out of everything that I discovered I will never be and USA never confirmed anything told or shared involving USA processes.  My question, "Why am I still being done?" , "Why am I being kept in USA after I physically could not keep my materialistic stuff, the surmounting barriers placed to do different, and nothing I cannot change as one (1) counted person out of 332, 811,821 counted Americans?"  Again, "Why am I still being done?"

Specifics For Further Elaboration:

No other major banks or regional banks performed the following via account services or fraud.

Prior to June 7, 2018, but in the 2000s.        

Opened a Citibank account, but closed it shortly thereafter because I did not know the bank’s purpose in my life.

June 7, 2018               

Opened Citibank accounts Checking and Savings, click here https://drive.google.com/file/d/1eeTaDqK8Fqmf4vyVEosEOgVPNRKo1aZq/view?usp=sharing

for the document proof.

Deposited Smoothie King direct deposit into the accounts.

Deposited the refund checks from Attorney Thomas Nelson (white male from Charleston, SC) - Futeral Law for never clearing the South Carolina land title services.

October 2019

Changed the accounts address from Washington, DC to Pineville, South Carolina.

Opened Citibank Secured Credit Card, click here

for the document proof.

I did travel to South Carolina to setup mailbox and check the heir’s property.

January 2020

Physically moved from Washington, DC to Pineville, South Carolina.

Citibank has NO branches in South Carolina.  I am fully aware on how to bank via postal mail, bank via company’s website, and bank via smartphone app.

Citibank Secured Credit Card and Citibank Debit Card was used to fund the move using a Penske truck and purchase a used Honda Metropolitan Scooter (a lemon) featured in all social media photos.

May 2020

Honda Metropolitan Scooter from Velocity Powersports went out of service, engine gone, back tire and rim gone, and no longer working or retrievable.  It was my primary mode transportation before the Tri-County bus passes.

June 2020

I reported to federal government agencies, state government agencies, and Citibank regarding trying to get my funds back because of fraud, click here

for document proof.

July 2020

Made a decision to move to Boston, Massachusetts.

August 2020

Physically moved from Pineville, South Carolina to Boston, Massachusetts

Changed Citibank account information from South Carolina to Boston, Massachusetts

Citibank has NO branches in Massachusetts.  I am fully aware on how to bank via postal mail, bank via company’s website, bank via smartphone app, and nearest convenient financial centers were in New York.

Tried to use Citibank ATM Debit Card to access funds, card was rejected using another bank’s ATM.

With the Citibank App, I still could lock and unlock Debit Card and Credit Card.

I did call to inquire what is going on with cards.

No activity from August 2020 to March 2021

March 2021

Traveled to New York City to start regular life activities there, which includes physically visiting the banks I have accounts placed.

From March 2021 to November 2021

Called Citibank 800 number while physically visiting the Citibank financial center.  I provided my Massachusetts paper ID unsigned and the South Carolina physical ID.  Two calls to the 800 number and two banking representatives in the same branch while they went in the back to do something.  Same situation happened at another NYC branch.

The frustration was no one in the Citibank financial center or over the 800 number was telling me what was on happening on my account.

November 2021

I received this Inactive document notice – click here

for proof.

I responded and sent back the notarized information with the same Massachusetts paper permit ID unsigned and stating I am the owner of the accounts.  I also advised Citibank deposits were coming.

No activity from December 2021 to May 2022

May 2022

Called Citibank 800 number again and the representative stated to go to the branch to resolve the issue.  My deposits as stated before was were being made.

I tried to use Bill Pay, it was rejected.

I tried to use ATM Card, it was rejected.

I tried to do IntraTransfer Citibank account to Citibank account, it was rejected.

I tried to do Inter Transfer Citibank account to Capital one, it was rejected.  Click here

for proof document.

To not repeat 2021 activities again and no access to my funds, I sent a frustrating statement throwing all my information including this website along with notarized identification to prove I am the owner of the account, but at the same time I called the 800 number and online chat with customer service capturing all of it.

Check what online customer services – click here

for proof of what they said – first time finding out it was Post No Debit placed by a branch on both accounts.

June 2022

The frustration statement got the attention of law enforcement and other agencies as mentioned above.

No other major bank or regional bank does this type of activity.

Statement from Citi Executive Response Unit – click here

for proof document sent and received before takedown.

Statement from Citibank Credit Card Customer Service Unit – click here

for proof document sent and received before takedown.

Closing Check from Checking – click here

for proof document sent and received before takedown.  (Deposit Cleared)

Closing Check from Savings – click here

for proof document sent and received before takedown.  (Deposit Cleared)

Post No Debit (or PND) is nowhere located in the Citibank Client Manual – Consumer Accounts PDF document, dated effective November 18, 2021, emailed from the Citibank Executive Response Unit.

Now for all the frustration and I still went to NYC to celebrate birthday, I got ten (10) to eleven (11) plain clothes, Caucasian, officers trying to take me down; a holding cell to ensure nothing happened for remainder of birthday week; the officers took my USB thumb drive and SD card containing the documents above (no search warrant, but I do not care) – no social media posts – no cloud or email information - which has no physical or circumstantial evidence to support any of the charges placed or the frustration statement; and follow up court dates for unknown decision for Words, Just Words.

This is Citibank. Good luck customers.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

So whenever your disability pride flag is shared on tiktok, ive noticed people asking why do disabled people need a pride flag, or saying that we dont deserve one because we are "co opting" the gay pride movement... and i am honestly at a loss at what to say to them

Okay, then: here's some Disability Pride Talking points for you, when you come upon that assumption:

First: The Disability Rights Movement gained steam in the U.S. at the same time as the Civil Rights Movement was advocating for racial equality, and the Women's Rights movement was advocating for gender equality -- all in the same decade as the Stonewall Riots.

Second: it may seem like Disability Pride Month is "copying" Queer Pride Month, because July comes right after June. But the reason we celebrate Disability Pride Month in July is because that's when The Americans with Disabilities Act was signed: on July 26, 1990. This was the first Disabilities Rights act in the world. It was followed in 1995 by the Disabilities Discrimination Act in the U.K., and in 2019 in Canada.

Third: on April 5, 1977, the (American) Nationwide 504 Sit-in (Wikipedia article) began, to protest the fact that three presidents in a row had been stalling for four years to implement Disability Civil Rights legislation. Disability advocates staged sit-ins in Federal Buildings for the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, in Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, Denver, Los Angeles, New York City, Philadelphia, and Seattle, San Fransisco, and Washington D.C..

The sit-in in Washington D.C. lasted 28 hours. The Sit-in in San Fransisco lasted 25 Days, and remains the longest occupation of a Federal Government building in U.S. History (It was epic). The civil rights group The Black Panthers also helped with logistical support.

The police tried to force the people inside to leave by cutting phone lines, forgetting that there were people who knew American Sign Language both inside the building, and outside, in the crowd, and they relayed messages back and forth through the windows (excuse me while I take a Cackle break).

Finally: Disabled people are human beings, and deserve all the human rights as everyone else. But a lot of people in authority, look at our lives from the outside, decide that we already have a low-quality of life (without actually asking us), and deciding that it wouldn't be so bad if we died. You know, at the start of the COVID-19 outbreak in this country, it was a fairly common policy that if hospitals ran low on ventilators, they'd just take them from disabled people who needed to use them every day? Remember that?

That's why we have to get loud.

[aesthetic--mood]

Jane Rizzoli Aesthetic

[decolonize-the-left]

I was wondering how accurate this was so I did some fun googling and yall.

So starting with the fact that police in the USA were formed when Dems had Congress and Senate and the same was true when the first organized police department was founded (in Boston, btw)....

1963. Dems had Senate and Congress.

While this allowed for huge strides in civil rights police brutality still continued to be largely unaddressed.

1966. Dems had Senate and Congress.

To point out further racial oppression James Meredith starts a 270 mile walk from Memphis, TN to Jackson, MI. He's shot by a sniper the second day which causes an influx in support from allies & prominent civil rights members (such as MLK) who fly out and walk in his stead.

Governor Johnson (d) of Mississippi, who ran on a segregationist platform but changed platforms when he saw that Black people were gaining more supporters, promises to protect marchers as they pass through his state. Police then tear gas them as they were setting up tents for the night in Canton, MI (pictured). 15k show up to Jackson. It's the biggest march in MI history and more successful than Meredith had planned.

No bills were introduced that year.

1956-1979 Dems had senate & Congress.

In 1961-69 they even had a governmental trifecta with Congress, Senate, and the presidency and again in 1977-79. The director of the FBI at the time was Republican J. Edgar Hoover. Head of Intelligence was Democrat William Sullivan. Attorney General & democrat Robert F. Kennedy authorized several programs for them such as wire-tapping MLK.

1968. Dems had Senate, Congress, and presidency.

President Lyndon Johnson (Democrat president while Dems had Congress & Senate) signs the Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act of 1968, birthing the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration & granting federal funds to local governments in order to obtain military resources to quell potential riots. A direct response to the protests and riots throughout the 50's & 60's. Protecting police from protesters.

Democrats do this instead of protecting the public from police and their prejudice.

1992. Dems have both Senate and Congress.

After the verdict of the 4 police who beat Rodney King on camera is announced & they are Not indicted the public starts rioting. The national guard, fire department, and several police departments are called in by then democratic mayor Tom Brady. After the riots a separate federal trial is held and finds 2 of the 4 officers guilty. All were fired from LAPD.

The Police Brutality Accountability Act of 1991 is introduced. Only introduced.

1994. House & Senate under dem control.

They pass the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act instead. It's drafted by democrat Joe Biden and sponsored by Texas Rep Brooks (D). It's an infamously harmful bill that results in the prejudiced mass incarceration of minorities, especially Black people. This bill funded police departments instead of holding them accountable aiding their further militarization as well.

2020. Dems have both Congress & Senate.

Which brings us to recent times. Where Democrats have again pretended to support and listen to the public demands to decrease/eliminate police brutality only to turn around and insist protests are the reason they keep funding the police instead of giving us rights.

"See? You're too dangerous to Not have a militarized police force."

As if we aren't protesting because the police are already too dangerous. Like that's not what started all this.

At this point a pattern like this can only be seen as intentional. A planned out excuse for funding police again and again and again instead of Stopping police brutality. Instead of enforcing or creating ACTUAL effective reform or regulations. They just keep throwing money at police departments and saying "hey here are billions of dollars that we want you to use to be less violent racists. It's also to help you be more safe when facing the people who are protesting your racist violence. Also we aren't gonna make sure you actually become less violent or less racist but we definitely hope you don't use this all this money to get worse."

Which has backfired across decades at this point. They keep doing investigations and making committees and for what?

We've done that. We know police are racist. We know they're violent. We know they're only spending enough to say they provide 6 months (if that) of sensitivity training and spending the bulk of that money on militarization gear. So what. We know that.

Now what.

What, after 100+ years could their excuse possibly be for STILL doing the same thing. For STILL not addressing it. For STILL not passing reform despite the MANY opportunities they've had? What could police departments Possibly be doing for them?? What excuse could be good enough?

I'm glad you asked.

There isn't one. There are answers of course. Greed, power, privilege, etc. The list goes on.

But are they good enough for you? They're not for me.

I have to beg on Tumblr just for my rent to get paid or for my kid to have dinner sometimes. The success of Democrats or my "country" doesn't mean shit to me, it does nothing for me. It only does things to me. Success enables police, it increases funding, it makes them More afraid of having their ideas of success taken from them, makes them more protective of their status quo. Their success hurts me. Fuck their success.

What matters is that time and time again Democrats have insisted they'd be there for minorities and then empowered the people oppressing, killing, and suppressing us and our rights.

What matters is that time and time again they've said they're powerless and their supporters insist they just don't have a majority to do anything with or that republicans keep blocking them or-

But passing bills to harm us? That's easy. And they don't Have to keep doing that. They just keep saying they do... To protect police. And they only keep "needing" more protection for police because they refuse to give us any. We continue to express our right to protest and they continue to try intimidating us out of it.

All the rights we have? They didn't give to us. Look at those posts. We fought for them while Democrats were in charge. They didn't give us those, they didn't stand with us. They still don't. They stand with the police as they always have.

August 2022.

For hundreds of years we've dealt with this. How much longer is it gonna be. How many more generations are going to have to put up with this government trying to insist that mediocrity is the best they can do indefinitely?

And if you still refuse to hold Democrats responsible, if you still find yourself compulsively trying to point out all the ways that Republicans are worse please know this: I know.

I know you're going to say "well Democrats are our best shot"

And to that I say if this is our best fucking shot....and they're *gestures vaguely at the post* like that.... Can we agree that it points to a much wider issue. If Democrats are our best shot and they're Only this effective and they're only making the most Minimal effort possible year after year. If we Know that their hands are tied by Republicans at best and at worst theyre fascists benefitting from the exploitation of BIPOC and other marginalized communities....

Can we admit that our systems are broken. That it goes further than Republicans or Democrats being bad. That it's Everything? That even if Democrats were actually perfect that everything would still be wrong and fucked up because the system itself holds them from making any effectual change?

That the checks and balances that the founding fathers put in place to make sure that our politicians are fair and just and give a shit about the people they serve aren't working.

Because if they were why would it take HUNDREDS of years for a community to get one thing. Just stop police brutality. That's all we asked. That's it. Stop hurting everyone who isn't a white cis man. Stop killing us in broad daylight for demanding you give us rights and respect the ones we Already have.

So why are we still starting 2023 with brutality making headlines?

If a government is effective and cares and listens and it's representives Truly represent it's constituents and fight for them and it's not just about profit or greed or winning elections or keeping minorities in line then why are we still here?

Why are we still asking for the same rights as our great-great-great-great grandparents?

If that progress? Is that success?

What the fuck are we doing. Like actually. How do we throw a wrench in this system. What will it take for Democrats and liberals and You to realize that all we are doing is driving the future into the hands of fascism.

What do we do? When do we finally do something?

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

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[racefortheironthrone]

What are your thoughts on Police Unions and calls to have them thrown out of the AFL CIO?

The last time that police unions actually acted like unions was the Boston police strike of 1919 (that unfortunately catapulted Cal Coolidge into national political prominence). After that, the basic labor relations between the state and police unions began to change in ways that are not recognizable as standard trade unionism.

The shift really began in the 1930s, when the rise of industrial unionism and attendant strike activity scared the shit out of the employers and their allies in government, because the usual Pinkertons and American Legion thugs were not enough to keep a lid on the situation. Hence the need to keep the police unions on the side of the employers rather than allow any possibility of siding with the strikers - thus you start to see police unions getting easily recognized, wage increases getting thrown around like candy, anything to keep the strikebreakers sweet.

However, it particularly morphed during the Second Great Migration (1940s through 1970), when the sudden emergence or at least rapid expansion of black populations in Northeastern, Midwestern, and Western cities scared the shit out of the municipal establishment in similar, yet distinct ways than the earlier union uprising had. In this period, an informal understanding was reached that the elected officials would block, slow-walk, or otherwise frustrate attempts by activists to impose accountability on police through civilian complaint review boards and other mechanisms, in exchange for police making upholding the racial hierarchy one of their enforcement priorities.

The expansion of grievance and arbitration procedures to include shootings and other acts of police brutality, written reprimands and other punishments from management, civilian complaints of abuse of power, officers' misconduct records and the extent to which they could be made public or even shared with future employers - the whole intricate mechanism by which police union contracts were turned into a bulwark against accountability - was part of this quid-pro-quo alliance between the state and police in the face of the emergent civil rights movement.

That's part of what slightly gives me pause about the left critique of police union contracts, because I think this alliance would have been constructed, maintained, and expanded over the decades whether or not police were unionized. The means would have been different, probably exercised through city charters, local ordinances, judicial precedents (even more so), but the ends would be the same. And if activists actually managed to eliminate a police union contract today, I'm absolutely confident that municipal government would rebuild it the next day, because they're absolutely scared of police slowdowns.

As to chucking them out of the AFL-CIO, it's not a bad thing per se, but I do want people to understand that it would be purely symbolic. The AFL-CIO is a union federation, it doesn't really have much in the way of direct authority over member unions, or exclusive access to resources that outpace what the member unions have. To give a historical example, the AFL-CIO expelled the Teamsters back in the 50s for being mobbed-up and it didn't change the Teamsters one bit - they kept on being mobbed-up until the Teamsters for a Democratic Union challenged the Hoffaites in the 70s and the Justice Department went after them with RICO charges in the 80s.

[drdemonprince]

Re: an anon from November 15th: do you have advice on how become more comfortable with negativity? Because the White Woman Socialization Brain is strong with this one and I've had a couple of friends say it gives me a tone-policing problem

I'm going to depart from my usual gradual tolerance-building exercise approach here (though all that stuff still applies) and give you a more targeted recommendation:

I think you need to find a friend who can be a bit of a shitty little outrageous bitch in how they speak and emote, but who is at their core a wonderful, reliable, and morally stand-up person, and make a special place for them in your life.

The type of person who is not afraid to be disagreeable, who says "terrible!" and launches into a whole long rant about why when you ask them how their day is going and who will show up to your house with groceries when you are sick and start cooking and cleaning all around even when you've (lyingly) said you do not need the help. The type of person who will teach your nervous system that negativity is not bad, that ruining the vibe is sometimes needed, and that we can be good people even while not worrying about making other people feel good.

You can often locate such people in hard-core activist spaces, as the people steadily Doing the Work for years on end are unlikely to be motivated by soft, tender feelings, because those emotions sure don't keep in that line of work. You can also find them in places like AA programs (or SMART Recovery meetings, etc), support groups, queer discussion groups, book clubs, marxist reading groups, church groups, food kitchens, and any other gathering of people that is motivated by a strong ideological commitment or interest in intellectual pursuits but which can be rather dry or unpleasant in its execution of their ideals. you can also just like, throw a stone in places like New York or Boston or Philly and hit three to five people like these. Even as far out as Pittsburgh or Cleveland there is a lot of them.

Now, if you have chronic white woman everybody must be happy all the time syndrome (which really just means i will *make* everybody pretend to be happy or else im going to lose my shit), it can be tempting to fall in with someone who *seems* like a person like this, but who in actuality is a manipulative undermining abuser taking advantage of your tendency to excuse and downplay their many slights and offenses.

You do not want that. You want someone who can accept criticism just as readily as they dish it out. The kind of person who will fire off at the mouth but then go "oh dammit, youre right, i hate it but youre right" the moment you point out a valid flaw in their logic. Someone brash, but with a heart. Someone who can teach you that conflict is inevitable, and needed, and that saying something weird or off-putting is not the end of the world, and that arguing and complaining can actually bring you closer to someone when it is done authentically and from a place of good faith.

to find this person, keep putting yourself in places that align with the type of person you'd like to be, filled with people who are doing things with their lives that you admire. notice your initial reactions to people. who is off putting? is that a fair judgement? who are you afraid of upsetting? who expresses themselves in a way you'd never, ever dare to? most kind of unpleasant people wont be the special Prickly Friend for You, they'll just be kind of annoying people you dont want to be around. but at some point you will notice, hey actually, this person is a little off and irascible, but i notice they always come through for people. they might not be the most elegant in how they express their views, but when i think about it, i think they tend to be right. over time a person like that will prove themselves through their behavior and track record, and as you get more acclimated to their way of communicating, you'll find your voice of disagreement too.

good luck!

[deadpresidents]

Road Trip

On November 8, 1960, millions of Americans went to the polls in what would become one of the closest Presidential elections in American History:  John Fitzgerald Kennedy versus Richard Milhous Nixon.

That morning, Kennedy voted in Boston and Nixon voted in Whittier, California.  The candidates had spent months canvassing the nation, working to get every last vote – and every last vote was needed.  For the past several weeks, Kennedy and Nixon had criss-crossed the country, debated one another, and been working non-stop to be elected the 35th President of the United States.

After they voted that day, there were results to monitor, precincts to watch, election day problems to take care of, and many other things to worry about.  Imagine being on the cusp of the Presidency – with a 50/50 chance of being elected the next President of a superpower in the grip of the Cold War, with the threat of Communism and nuclear weapons hanging over your head, and the hopes of hundreds of millions of people pinned on either your victory or defeat.  Imagine being in the position of John F. Kennedy or Richard Nixon on November 8, 1960.  What would you do? 

John F. Kennedy put the control of his campaign in the hands of his younger brother, Bobby, and then took a nap.

And Richard Nixon took a road trip to Mexico.

Once Nixon voted that morning at a private home in a quiet Whittier neighborhood, he had been scheduled to head to the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles (where Bobby Kennedy would be assassinated eight years later) for the Election Day vigil and the long wait for the returns which would indicate whether he would be moving into the White House or facing an early retirement. 

Nixon was finished voting by 8:00 AM and hopped into his black Cadillac limousine to be driven to the Ambassador.  Several blocks away from the polling place, Nixon ordered the limousine to stop.  Along with a military aide and a Secret Service agent, Nixon jumped out of the limo and into a white convertible follow-up car driven by an officer from the Los Angeles Police Department.  Nixon took the LAPD officer’s place, got behind the wheel and ditched the press which had been following him.

Driving to La Habra, California, Nixon made a quick visit with his mother, making sure she had voted for her son in the Presidential election.  Nixon drove south along the Pacific Coast Highway, with no specific destination.  He stopped for gasoline in Oceanside and told a gas station attendant – startled to see the Vice President of the United States on a joyride on the very day that he stood for election as President – “I’m just out for a little ride."  Nixon confided that it was his only source of relaxation.

As the group of four men, with Nixon in the driver’s seat, reached San Diego – over two hours away from Nixon’s campaign headquarters at L.A.’s Ambassador Hotel – Nixon pointed out that he hadn’t been to Tijuana in at least 25 years.

As David Pietrusza wrote in his recap of Nixon’s road trip, "Richard Nixon – the ultimate control freak – was winging it on the most important day of his life."  Not only that, but the sitting Vice President of the United States and the man who many Americans were choosing to become the next President, impulsively decided to leave the entire country while those voters were still at the polls.

In Tijuana, Nixon and his party headed to a restaurant called Old Heidelberg.  Despite the fact it was owned by a German, Border Patrol agents told Nixon that it was the best place in Tijuana for Mexican food.  Joined at the last moment by Tijuana’s Mayor, Xicotencati Leyva Aleman, Nixon, his military aide, a Secret Service agent, and an average LAPD officer ate enchiladas in Mexico while John F. Kennedy took a nap in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.

When Nixon’s press secretary Herb Klein was asked about the missing candidate, he had to tell reporters that Nixon often took some private moments on hectic days such as Election Day.  Really, though, Klein had no clue where Nixon was, eventually admitting that the Vice President was "driving around without any destination”. 

After lunch in Tijuana, Nixon and his companions headed back north towards the United States border crossing.  The LAPD officer took over driving duties as Nixon sat in the convertible’s passenger seat.  A shocked Border Patrol guard shook hands with the Vice President and asked the man who was currently on the ballot for the Presidency, “Are you all citizens of the United States?”.

Nixon and company drove to the Mission of San Juan Capistrano, which Nixon called “one of my favorite Catholic places” on the day he faced the first successful Catholic candidate for the Presidency in American History.  Nixon took his three companions on a quick, informal tour of the Mission.  “For a few minutes, we sat in the empty pews for an interlude of complete escape,” Nixon later recalled.

The missing candidate and his three road trip buddies arrived back in Los Angeles before the election results started rolling in.  Nixon had to explain his trip to reporters who had been searching for him all day.  “It wasn’t planned.  We just started driving and that’s where we wound up.”

In his Memoirs, Nixon didn’t go too far into explaining why he escaped on Election Day, but a paragraph about that day is pretty illuminating:

“After one last frenetic week, it was over.  Since the convention in August I had traveled over 65,000 miles and visited all fifty states.  I had made 180 scheduled speeches and delivered scores of impromptu talks and informal press conferences.  There was nothing more I could have done.”

Except escape to Mexico while JFK slept.

[irregularincidents]

Oh hey, it's Harry Houdini's 150th Birthday! To celebrate, here's a weird story I found.

A large part of the famous magician and escapologist's act appeared to be folk publicly challenging him to do a particular stunt, which as multiple instances of police departments claiming he couldn't escape their cells, usually as a mutual publicity stunt.

One of the more unusual examples of this came in 1911, when a group of 10 Boston businessmen challenged Houdini to escape from a "sea monster" while also chained hand and foot.

Houdini accepted the challenge, and thousands lined up outside of the BF Keith Theatre to see the magician escape what newsletters speculated was anything from a whale to a large turtle (it was the latter).

And, indeed, a lubricated Harry did escape the turtle, although as it had been embalmed with arsenic (one of the businessmen was a taxidermist), he did confess that in the 15 minutes it took to do so he nearly suffocated from the chemical fumes after an assistant help stuff the chained and handcuffed Houdini in the dead creature in the first place.

[puckgoss]

okay everyone… the deep dive you’ve all been very patiently waiting for… i recommend putting on the “the departed” “the godfather” or “goodfellas” soundtracks while reading this!

thanks to the anons who sent in info about all of this. huge thanks to the anon who was able to reveal some personal information about the family (from the same town).

when i got an ask saying sway’s gf’s family is (ex)-mafia i went looking for proof, and that sent me down a huge rabbit hole… 

IMPORTANT NOTE: this is currently under editing/review as i add/clarify further info

Links to Alessandra’s IG & Alessandra’s VSCO

Alessandra’s Background

Alessandra is 21 years old, turning 22 at some point this year (2002 birth year). She graduated high school in 2020 (source).

Alessandra’s family is from Leominster, Massachusetts. They lived there for many generations. Alessandra grew up in a home described as a “chateau” with horses and a dog. A picture of the house can be found below, up to you to decide whether it looks like a chateau or not. The town rumor is that they are ~7th Generation Italian Royalty. They used to vacation to their home on the coast of Puerto Rico during February vacation every year. They still go there often, as you can see on her social media accounts.

She now lives and works in the Northend of Boston. Her and her sister (Anina) are in the same big friend group and have both been described as nice, fun, private, and quiet. Her sister works as a “marketing intern” according to LinkedIn. Alessandra’s job is unknown. They and some of the Bruins players frequent Lincoln in Southie in Boston.

Alessandra has been dating Bruins goaltender Jeremy Swayman since ~Fall 2023. Apparently Alessandra and Jeremy are very cute together in public.

Salvatelli Family Background (Maternal Side)

Here is a family tree to help you visualize this:

Alessandra’s mother (Monique) and aunt (Toni) operate Paisano’s Pizza and Spirits, which they have done since 2019, although the business has been in the family for many years.

In 2007, the restaurant had their liquor license suspended for two days after finding its owner (Toni) hindered a police investigation. Here is an excerpt from the article, the link is here but it’s paywalled.

If you guys want to learn how to bypass hard paywalls on Google Chrome, let me know!

Essentially, Toni’s boyfriend got in a bar fight, and Toni (one of the owners) rushed him out the back door then did not comply with a police officer’s request later that night to give him the security video.

In 2023, the restaurant posted on their Instagram account congratulating Alessandra on running the Boston Marathon.

The restaurant is located in a hole in the wall strip mall and has mediocre reviews.

The article linked above mentions that Toni (and Monique) are the daughters of John Salvatelli, a former City Councillor. He and his brother Robert Salvatelli were both city councillors in Leominster for many years - Robert since at least 1999 and John since around the same time. In early 2005 Robert was voted in as City Council president, supported by his brother John.

Robert Salvatelli retired from this role in 2015. John was a City Councillor for 10 years. Previously, Robert was a teacher and principal at one of the town’s elementary schools.

Iacaboni Family Background (Paternal Side)

Note 1: Their surname is sometimes spelled Iacaboni, and sometimes spelled Iacoboni. I found articles using both spellings referring to the same people.

Note 2: David was Frank Sr.'s stepson. His mother is unknown.

1980s & 1990s

source

Frank Iacaboni Sr. was convicted of being a major player in a multimillion-dollar bookmaking ring.

He "has been paying tribute to the Mafia for years", according to law enforcement sources.

In the mid-1980s, Frank Iacaboni Sr. complained that convicted Boston mobsters Robert Carrozza and Dennis (Champagne) LePore ransacked his home and made off with an estimated $250,000, according to sources.

Police say Burton (Chico) Krantz, the region's preeminent bookmaker, mediated the dispute, in which Iacaboni agreed to pay his tribute without complaint, and the Boston Mafiosi agreed not to kill him.

1993

Sources say David Iacaboni, who was adopted by his stepfather, always resented his father's failure to acknowledge him. But they say, the Iacabonis apparently made some form of reconciliation several years ago when David Iacaboni returned from a brief stay in Florida. That rapprochement ended, however, when David Iacaboni and his wife, Lori, were indicted in 1993 for marijuana trafficking.

Sources say Frank Iacaboni tried to file criminal charges against David for allegedly selling a Corvette he had given to Frank. The elder Iacaboni had also blamed his son for a December 1993 fire at his home. No charges were ever filed, however. After David Iacaboni and his wife were sentenced to 10 years in prison last January, David Iacaboni approached US Attorney Donald K. Stern, offering to lead authorities to the body of Richard Tuttle Jr. in exchange for his wife being released. Stern agreed to the deal.

September 1995

A suspected prowler was killed and a police officer was seriously wounded outside of Frank (Alessandra’s grandfather’s) Iacaboni's house.

Frank’s son, David, who I believe is Alessandra’s paternal uncle, was convicted in the murder of a man in July 1995.

(source)

(source)

January 1996: (source)

FBI agents raided the home of convicted bookmaker Frank E. Iacaboni, shortly after the start of the Super Bowl. No arrests were made, but FBI agents, assisted by state and local police, confiscated some cash.

"It was a sad day for gamblers in Leominster," said one source, who asked not to be identified.

Iacaboni's ranch-style home at 640 Union St. was the scene of a bloody shootout in September after a man opened fire on two police officers who were investigating a complaint of a prowler.

Police sources have said the man may have been trying to steal gambling money from Iacaboni. The shooting is still under investigation by state police.

FBI spokesman Pete S. Ginieres said he could neither confirm nor deny Sunday's raid.

However, Leominster Police Capt. Thomas J. Bisol said local police helped FBI agents execute a search warrant at Iacaboni's house.

Bisol said other homes in the city were also searched. Bisol declined to provide any more details.

"This is an FBI matter," he said.

On Sept. 15 1995, two police officers were called to Iacaboni's house to respond to a call of a prowler outside the home.

Officers Dwayne Flowers and Thomas R. Kent found John J. MacNeil in the garage of the house. MacNeil, 47, charged at the two officers, firing from two hand guns.

MacNeil was killed by police after exchanging more than 26 rounds of gunfire. Kent, 32, who was shot in the chest by MacNeil, is still recovering from his injury.

Police sources at the time said they were investigating the possibility that MacNeil was sent to the house by Iacaboni's estranged son, David M. Iacaboni.

MacNeil was a cellmate of the younger Iacaboni at the Plymouth County Correctional Facility. Police sources said they were looking to see if David Iacaboni sent MacNeil to his father's house to steal gambling receipts, or to kill his father, or to do both.

The police sources said Frank Iacaboni was known to keep large amounts of cash in a safe inside his house.

Frank E. Iacaboni was one of 18 people arrested in 1983 on gaming charges as a result of a state police investigation into illegal gambling. He pleaded guilty to 21 counts of using a telephone for gaming and 13 counts of conspiracy to register bets. He was fined $4,250.

Wednesday, Jan 24 1996:

David Iacaboni was sentenced to 18 to 20 years in prison for killing Richard A. Tuttle Jr. of Lancaster in November 1989.

The younger Iacaboni pleaded guilty to manslaughter in Middlesex Superior Court in Cambridge. He told authorities he killed Tuttle during an argument about a drug sale.

2002-2008: Charges laid, legal documents, case notes

In March 2002, Frank Iacaboni pleaded guilty to charges arising out of his operation of an illegal gambling business.

From 1995 through March 1998, Iacaboni conducted an illegal sports gambling operation in and around Leominster, Massachusetts. Iacaboni's business included a few different "offices" headed by individuals hired to take bets from gamblers over the telephone. Iacaboni also ran a "football ticket" business; bettors paid between $1 and $10 per "ticket," a card on which they checked off four or more predictions in dozens of upcoming games.

Aug 13, 2002 - U.S. v. Iacaboni

Oct 21, 2002 - U.S. v. Iacoboni

Mar 30, 2004 - U.S. v. Iacaboni, other source

April 2005: Indictment handed down on charges of racketeering against 12 men

October 2008: Outline of the criminal case below

March 2009: (source) (source)

In March 2009, Arthur Gianelli, Dennis Albertelli and his wife Giselle, and Frank Iacaboni of Leominster (Alessandra's grandfather) were on trial in federal court for numerous crimes.

Mary Ann Gianelli pleaded guilty to 19 counts of racketeering, money laundering, filing false tax returns, and illegal structuring of cash transactions. Under a plea agreement, the federal government dropped an additional 141 money laundering counts against her.

Her husband was Mafia associate Arthur Gianelli. She helped him run his illegal gambling business after he was indicted on federal racketeering charges in 2005 and placed under house arrest.

Mary Ann Gianelli's sister, Elizabeth, is married to John J. Connolly. Connolly is a former FBI agent who was convicted of federal racketeering charges for protecting long-time informants James "Whitey" Bulger and Stephen "The Rifleman" Flemmi from prosecution. He was also convicted of murder in Florida in November 2008 for plotting with the two gangsters to orchestrate the 1982 slaying of a Boston businessman.

Arthur headed a sprawling criminal enterprise whose members were involved in gambling, money laundering, loan sharking, arson, and extortion. Him and his three co-defendents listed above, including Alessandra’s paternal grandfather Frank Iacaboni, committed hundreds of crimes between 1999 and 2005.

Millions of dollars flowed through the organization's gambling operation, which took bets on football games and later shifted its operation from Massachusetts to an Internet operation in Costa Rica. The organization also created phony companies to hide profits. Gianelli had ties to the Mafia, making weekly payments to reputed New England underboss Carmen "Cheese Man" DiNunzio.

Note: for more info on the Patriarca crime family (Carmen is now the boss), there are links at the end of the post under Appendix A.

One of the victim’s of this organized crime crew was Boston Bruins Hall of Fame goaltender Gerry Cheevers. He was threatened by a leg breaker for not repaying a loan.

Gianelli, Dennis Albertelli, and Frank Iacoboni were also charged with arson for allegedly plotting to burn down the Big Dog Sports Grille in North Reading in 2003 in an attempt to intimidate the owners into selling them another bar that they were poised to open in Lynnfield.

November 9, 2009: (source)

Frank Iacaboni was sentenced to 15 years and 3 months in federal prison and fined $10,000 for his role in a gambling and extortion ring.

He was sentenced in U.S. District Court on charges of racketeering conspiracy, extortion, use of fire to commit extortion, attempted arson of the Big Dog Sports Grille in Reading Nov. 13, 2003, and operating illegal sports and football card gambling businesses.

The Judge noted that he received 29 letters on Mr. Iacaboni’s behalf, including those from a state representative and a city councilor. Those two letters were from state Rep. Dennis A. Rosa and Ward 4 City Councilor Robert A. Salvatelli, both of Leominster. (Alessandra’s maternal great uncle!).

Summary of Findings

Alessandra’s maternal family is extremely powerful and well-connected in Leominster. They have held/still hold positions of power in schools, government, and local business. Her maternal great uncle vouched for her paternal grandfather when he was charged by the federal government for multiple crimes in association with the Mafia. Her paternal uncle was convicted for murdering a man in 1995.

Her maternal family owns the Paisano’s pizza "restaurant", but this is only the tip of the iceberg. It is very likely that their businesses are all fronts for money laundering, illegal gambling, tax evasion, and more. At the very least, her maternal family has been involved in trying to lessen the charges for her paternal family.

Hope you all enjoyed this deep dive ☕️

Appendix A

Patriarca / La Cosa Nostra Crime Family

The bosses of the Boston Mafia

Alleged Underboss of the New England Family of La Cosa Nostra Sentenced to Six Years in Prison

New England mafia underboss Carmen DiNunzio back on the streets

Old Patriarca Famiglia: The Cheeseman Cometh?

VIDEO: How The Mafia CONQUERED Boston | The Patriarca Family Part 1

VIDEO: How The Mafia CONQUERED Boston | The Patriarca Family Part 2

VIDEO: Current State of the Patriarca Crime Family

[specificallybruins]

Even moar mob au?

am currently on brainrot despite being half-asleep

Krej's Bar/main hangout is called The Garden

Shawn Thornton owns a gym, which was their old hangout. The boys still go there, just mostly to train and to catch up with some of their old friends.

The Bruins' territory/home turf is Boston, spreading out around Massachusetts. They believe it is their responsibility to uphold their own brand of justice, keep the peace. Which is probably why Marchy was less torn up than expected about them upon realizing who the B's actually were.

The people of Boston love them. They keep them safe after all. Petty thievery, hate crimes, assault, are all against the code of the B's. Do anything that passes a certain limit, they will cut a smile into your face.

Monty is their contact in the police department. The police have a tentative agreement for whenever they catch wind of other gangs planning something in Boston and they don't want to get in the middle of it they get to tell the Bruins.

Matt Grzelcyk was Charlie McAvoy's senior in college/university. Matt always seemed like a kind soul so it puzzled Charlie as to why he willingly joined the B's

Marchy willingly chooses to help the B's commit tax evasion purely because "the rich can suck it and can stand to lose a few million anyway". Bergy found that hilarious and barked out a laugh so out-of-character everyone in the room stared at him for a solid 10 seconds. That's how Marchy got the unofficial approval of everyone, anyone who can make Bergy laugh like that is someone worth keeping.

Marchy was nicknamed Squirrel for many reasons. Including the way he can run circles around the law. Or the ability to run into trouble on the street and somehow get away from it. But the main one is because some drunk guy at The Garden tried to goad him into a fight by calling him a squirrel, and when Marchy didn't bite, attempted to throw a punch, but ended up tripping and falling over. The nickname stuck ever since.

The B's insisted on Marchy learning self-defense. So sometimes he goes to Thorty's gym to train. He learned mostly from Andrew Ference and the Merlot Line.

He's always bullied by the old B's, but they will throw hands at anyone who fucks with their lawyer-squirrel. It still stands even after they retire, it's just part of the code. They protect their own.

Nick Foligno just came to The Garden for a drink after moving to Boston, and managed to befriend Krej in the fastest, most genuine way. They just enjoy trading barbs and life experiences.

Chris Kelly, who was once a sniper on the B's, now an advisor, found out Fliggy was from an old Family (mafia) and told Krej. That didn't deter him, at all. Uncle Nick was nice to everyone after all.

One night when Chara and Krej were out on a walk they found a teenager Pasta passed out cold. After nursing him back to health Pasta just kept coming back. No one's stopping him. Certainly not Krej's mother hen instincts. He's part of the gang as a runner now.

Yea I love the 2011 Bruins a lot can't you tell?

There's more but i feel like i wrote too much now. @blindbatalex rn it really is just no plot just vibes send help maybe there is some plot but everythings a mess rn