#old county courthouse

[rabbitcruiser]

On April 13, 1881 Billy the Kid was sentenced by Judge Warren Bristol in Mesilla to hang, with his execution scheduled for May 13.  

[dlyarchitecture]

[sgiandubh]

Oh, hello

The Sibyl of Tydavnet was supposedly back home, and we finally have something to speculate upon, after a week-end with no news from both of Them (go figure). So much so that it's been very, very quiet in here:

This is, of course, a latergram, When being the important question, here. I have to say I was a bit surprised, after two hours of research (and cooking, but that is a separate story).

Let's unpack:

From 1974 to 2023, the Monaghan County Museum has been open and free to visit. Until 1981, in the old Courthouse building of Monaghan Town, then temporarily hosted by the Christian Brothers Secondary School, and since 1986 in this building on Hill Street:

I am not inventing anything, this info comes straight from their official website:

On May 18th, 2023 (on International Museum Day), the venue was closed and the collections were planned to be moved at the new Monaghan Peace Campus:

The Peace Campus is a very important local initiative, funded by the City Council, the Irish Department of Rural and Community Development and the EU, via the Irish SEUPB (Special EU Programs Body - ironically, the counterpart of my new job, starting next Friday, LOL). It was inaugurated on May 10, 2024:

Where was C, in this clip, posted today and suggesting a recent trip to Ireland?

In the old building, of course, exactly as it was on May 18, 2023:

Apparently taken on an extensive private tour that included the storage area, where this pic was taken:

How do I know it? I simply combed the meager social media accounts of the Museum, that's all. See and compare for yourself, with this screenshot of the moving operations, from the old Hill Street to the new premises (posted on Facebook, on June 14th, 2024, but very likely shot slightly before):

In April 2023, the new Peace Campus looked roughly like this. There is no way that clip would have been shot there. Not then...

...and not later, because the new display in the new venue looks totally different:

And it was completed around May 10th 2024, when this picture was taken, separately from the rest of the released info:

The pic was taken by Laura Hogan, the North East Correspondent for RTE News, a subsidiary of the Irish public TV and Radio broadcasting company:

But perhaps even more interestingly, the Museum shot several clips of people featured, like C, in the new inaugural exhibition. Such as this guy, back in June 2023, on their old premises:

Ardal O'Hanlon, Irish stand-up comedian and actor, based in Ireland and London:

This is a very, very, VERY late latergram. My best guess would be anytime between May 2023 and most probably around June 2023. Simply because it would be logical that the clip shooting be completed with all the people involved at the same time, for logistical reasons, and before the packing of the exhibits would have started in earnest.

As always, I could be wrong. As always, people will bitch around, especially the divas and those who know strictly nothing. But I'll be damned if C were in Ireland anytime near this last week-end!

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

U.S. President Joe Biden on Tuesday will honor Emmett Till, the Black teenager whose 1955 killing helped galvanize the Civil Rights movement, and his mother with a national monument across two states.

Till, 14 and visiting from Chicago, was beaten, shot and mutilated in Money, Mississippi, on Aug. 28, 1955, four days after a 21-year-old white woman accused him of whistling at her. His body was dumped in a river.

The violent killing put a spotlight on the U.S. civil rights cause after his mother, Mamie Till-Bradley, held an open-casket funeral and a photo of her son's badly disfigured body appeared in Black media.

The national monument designation across 5.7 acres (2.3 hectares) and three sites marks a forceful new effort by the President to memorialize the country's bloody racial history even as Republicans in some states push limits on how that past is taught.

"America is changing, America is making progress," said the Rev. Wheeler Parker Jr., 84, a cousin of Till's who was with the boy on the night he was abducted at gunpoint from the relatives' house they were staying at in Mississippi.

"I've seen a lot of changes over the years and I try to tell young people that they happen, but they happen very slow," Parker said on Monday in a telephone interview as he traveled from Chicago to Washington to attend the signing ceremony at the White House as one of approximately 60 guests.

Tuesday marks the 82nd anniversary of Till's birth in 1941. One of the monument sites is the Roberts Temple Church of God in Christ in Chicago, where Till's funeral took place.

The other selected sites are in Mississippi: Graball Landing, close to where Till's body is believed to be have been recovered; and Tallahatchie County Second District Courthouse, where two white men who later confessed to Till's killing were acquitted by an all-white jury.

Signs erected at Graball Landing since 2008 to commemorate Till's killing have been repeatedly defaced by gunfire.

Now that site and the others will be considered federal property, receiving about $180,000 a year in funding from the National Park Service. Any future vandalism would be investigated by federal law enforcement rather than local police, according to Patrick Weems, executive director of the Emmett Till Interpretive Center in Sumner, Mississippi.

Other such monuments include the Grand Canyon, Statue of Liberty and the laboratory of inventor Thomas Edison.

Biden, an 80-year-old Democrat, will likely need strong support from Black voters to secure a second term in the 2024 presidential election.

He screened a film recounting the lynching, "Till," at the White House in February. Last March, he signed into law a bipartisan bill named for Till that for the first time made lynching a federal hate crime.

A Republican field led by former President Donald Trump has made conservative views on race and other contentious issues of history a part of their platform, including banning books and fighting efforts to teach school children accounts of the country's past that they regard as ideologically inflected or unpatriotic.

"This is an amazing, teachable moment to talk about the importance of this story as an American story that everybody can share in now, particularly at a time when people are trying to rewrite history," said Christopher Benson, president of the non-profit organization the Emmett Till & Mamie Till-Mobley Institute in Summit, Illinois.

“We have a memorial now that is not erasable. It can't be banned and it can't be censored, and we think that's a very important thing.”

[ausetkmt]

Marion County woman accused of shooting Black neighbor dead is in custody, sheriff's office says

The woman accused of shooting her neighbor dead on Friday is in custody Tuesday night, according to the Marion County Sheriff’s Office and attorneys for the victim.

Investigators say 35-year-old A.J. Owens confronted the neighbor for throwing a skate at her children. Owens went and knocked on that neighbor's door and was ultimately shot through it.Civil rights attorney Ben Crump is defending Owens’ family. Crump tweeted, “The unidentified 58-year-old white woman connected to the shooting death of Ajike 'AJ' Owens has been arrested.

#JusticeForAJ.” Related: 'Why isn't she in jail?': Protestors demand answers after Ocala woman shot dead through neighbor's front doorAt last check, the subject had not been formally placed under arrest, but a spokesperson for the sheriff's office said, “that should occur imminently.”

Protestors went to the Ocala courthouse on Tuesday to demand the shooter be arrested. They say Owens' death was unjustified and that the neighbor had called her children racial slurs. Watch the protest below.The State Attorney's Office said in a statement earlier Tuesday, "Our office is actively working with the Marion County Sheriff's Office on their ongoing investigation.

When all of the evidence has been gathered and evaluated, our office will make a prompt filing decision on the case."Crump is expected to address the public on Wednesday at noon from Ocala.This is a developing story.

Sheriff: 'Neighborhood feud' led to Ocala woman being shot through door, killed

MARION COUNTY, Fla. —

The woman accused of shooting her neighbor dead on Friday is in custody Tuesday night, according to the Marion County Sheriff’s Office and attorneys for the victim.

Investigators say 35-year-old A.J. Owens confronted the neighbor for throwing a skate at her children. Owens went and knocked on that neighbor's door and was ultimately shot through it.

Civil rights attorney Ben Crump is defending Owens’ family. Crump tweeted, “The unidentified 58-year-old white woman connected to the shooting death of Ajike 'AJ' Owens has been arrested. #JusticeForAJ

.”

This content is imported from Twitter. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Related: 'Why isn't she in jail?': Protestors demand answers after Ocala woman shot dead through neighbor's front door

At last check, the subject had not been formally placed under arrest, but a spokesperson for the sheriff's office said, “that should occur imminently.”

Protestors went to the Ocala courthouse on Tuesday to demand the shooter be arrested. They say Owens' death was unjustified and that the neighbor had called her children racial slurs. Watch the protest below.

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The State Attorney's Office said in a statement earlier Tuesday, "Our office is actively working with the Marion County Sheriff's Office on their ongoing investigation. When all of the evidence has been gathered and evaluated, our office will make a prompt filing decision on the case."

Crump is expected to address the public on Wednesday at noon from Ocala. This is a developing story.

[jnledford]

Instagram post linked here

Upcoming book, “Lykos”, by new independent author J. N. Ledford, is a supernatural contemporary romance novel with a twist.

Estimated publication in late 2025 or early 2026!

More content to be posted as the date arrives.

--- ☆ ---

“Khalid Hawkins expects a few things when he moves to Haywood County, NC, to take over the cabin he inherited from his late grandfather – old pipes, cleaning up a yard, and maybe some renovations if he can figure them out himself. What comes as a surprise however is when the first storm hits and he hears a crash in the shed outside, only to find a werewolf slumped over in a heap with an arrow gouged into its body.

Fae Holloway expects a few things when she opens her eyes, like a white light to walk into since she just got shot with a silver tipped arrow. Instead, she gets to wake up to a burning pain in her chest, more wolfsbane than she’s ever seen, and bones that feel like they’re ready to dissolve. At least she is still alive, and still in her wolf form, which is likely the only reason she survived to begin with. All her realizations topped off by the wide-eyed stare of the young man poking his head around the corner of the splintered shed door.

The pair are in for more than they realize as they begin to grow closer, unaware that the very people who had driven the werewolf into Khalid’s life weren’t ready to give up on the hunt just yet.”

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

[Background image of Devil’s Courthouse in the Blue Ridge Parkway by @ajledford_com (instagram) used with permission]

[opencommunion]

please go to a protest for Land Day tomorrow (March 30th) if you can

AUSTRALIA – Hobart / Nipaluna. 1PM Every Saturday @ Davey St. (Grand Chancellor).

CANADA – Antigonish, NS. 1PM Every Saturday @ Antigonish Town Hall. Antigonish 4 Gaza.

CANADA – Montreal. 2PM Land Day Tatreez Workshop @ Refugee Center. PYM Montreal.

CANADA – Ottawa. 2PM Land Day @ Human Rights Monument.

CANADA – Toronto. 2PM Land Day @ Yonge & Dundas. PYM Toronto.

ENGLAND – Halifax. 1PM Every Saturday @ Wilkos on Southgate.

ENGLAND – Hebden Bridge. 3PM Every Saturday @ Holme Street. 4PM @ St George’s Square. West Yorkshire for Palestine.

ENGLAND – London. 11AM @ 7 Tavistock Square. PYM Britain.

ENGLAND – London. 12PM @ Central London. STW UK.

NETHERLANDS – Amsterdam. 7PM Every Night @ Dam Square.

PORTUGAL – Porto. 10PM Every Night Vigil @ Camara Municipal.

SCOTLAND – Orkney. 1PM Every Saturday @ St Magnus Cathedral Steps. Amnesty Orkney.

AZ – Phoenix. 1MP Land Day @ Civic Space Park. PSL Phoenix AZ.

CA – Los Angeles. 1PM Land Day March @ LA City Hall. PYM LA/OC/IE.

CA – Petaluma. 12:30PM Every Saturday @ Petaluma & E Washington. Occupy Pelatuma.

CA – Ventura. 12:30PM @ 181 E Santa Clara St. ANSWER Coalition.

CO – Fort Collins. 3PM Every Saturday @ Old Town Square. NOCO Liberation Coalition.

DC – Washington DC. 4PM @ DuPont Circle. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Gainesville. 11AM @ Depot Park. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Orlando. City Hall. TBA. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Pensacola. PM @ Main & Reus (Blue Wahoos). PSL CGC. 

GA – Atlanta. 2PM @ Consulate of Israel. PYM.

ID – Pocatello. 12PM Every Saturday @ Bannock County Courthouse. Pocatello for Palestine.

IL – Chicago. 1PM @ TBA. USPCN + Chicago SJP.

LA – New Orleans. 3:30PM @ 701 N Rampart St.

MA – Springfield. 2PM @ 36 Court St. ANSWER Coalition.

ME – Portland. 1PM @ Monument Square. PSL Maine.

MI – Detroit. 1:30PM @ Beacon Park. USPCN.

MI – Detroit. 10AM Land Day @ Rouge Park. PYM.

MN – Minneapolis. 2PM @ 2707 West Lake St. ANSWER Coalition.

MT – Kalispell. 12PM Every Saturday @ Main & Center. MT 4 Palestine.

NC – Asheville. 4PM @ 1 N Pack Square. ANSWER Coalition.

NC – Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. CLT 4 Palestine + PSL Carolinas.

NC – Raleigh. 3PM Land Day @ Moore Square. PSL Carolinas.

NC, Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. Land Day. CLT 4 Pali + PSL Carolinas.

NM – Albuquerque. 4PM @ UNM Book Store. ANSWER Coalition.

NY – New York. 12PM @ City Hall Park. Within Our Lifetime.

NY – New York. 12PM Vigil Every Saturday @ 5th & 44th in Brooklyn. Sunset Park Elders.

NY – New York. 5PM @ Times Square. PYM.

NY – Rochester. 1:30PM @ MLK Park. End Apartheid ROC + SJP UR.

OH – Cincinnati. 3PM @ 801 Plum St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Cleveland. 2PM Land Day @ Edgewater Upper Pavillion. USCPN.

OH – Columbus. 4PM @ 120 W Goodale St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Dayton. 5PM @ 2680 Ridge Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Wooster. 11AM @ 538 N Market St. ANSWER Coalition.

OR – Bend. 12PM Saturdays @ Peace Corner. Central Oregon 4 Socialism.

OR – Portland. 12PM @ Desert Island Studios. Letters for Palestine PDX.

PA – Philadelphia. 5PM @ 7th & Walnut. ANSWER Coalition.

PA – Pittsburgh. 3:30PM @ 4100 Forbes Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

RI – Providence. 5PM @ Prospect Terr. ANSWER Coalition.

TX – Houston. 1PM @ Waterwall Park. PYM Houston.

TX – San Antonio. 12PM @ 301 E Travis ST. ANSWER Coalition.

VT – Burlington. 1PM @ City Hall. ANSWER Coalition.

WA – Seattle. 2PM Land Day @ Lake Union Park. PYM.

WI – Milwaukee. 1:30PM @ Sijan Park. PSL Milwaukee.

WI – Viroqua. 11AM Vigil Every Saturday @ Main & Decker. Driftless Solidarity / Wolves PSC.

WV – Martinsburg. 12PM Land Day @ Martinsburg Town Square. PSL WV.

DISCLAIMER: I didn't make this list and it's not comprehensive. If you don't see a protest near you, look up what your local orgs are doing, and if you still can't find anything, take autonomous action

[cerislabnotes]

Personal Note 2: Jury Draggy

I'm writing this note because I do believe my experience to be similar to others in my situation. Might come back to it one day. I'm leaving the case out due to content, this is about my experience.

Whelp, it's been a long two days forced off work. I got selected to do Jury Duty. Apparently, work wasn't a good excuse nor was being "a potential courtroom distraction." In my condition (half dragon, tall, wide, dysfunctional, barely human) I thought I'd almost certainly be excused. Unfortunately, the judge nor the attorneys cared.

Apparently, I'm too "logical and indiscriminate of a per..being" per the judge. He seemed very understanding, maybe he knows someone in a similar situation. Either way, I could write 50 times that I did not physically fit in this situation. Old ass courthouse doors, metal detectors, jury box, folding chairs, deliberation room; all not friendly for big, wide, sorta wingy draggy. Surprisingly though, the other Jurors had no problems with me, at all! You would think this story would be all about how these 11 people in this dark, conservative county were absolutely abhorrent to me. No one even blinked at me. I was even placed as Jury Foreman…ForeBeing. There was one issue between me, and one older lady, but she was very direct that I was too young and naive to be making some of my decisions. It was absolutely bizarre. Maybe people can finally mind their own business? Maybe I was more intimidating than I think I am? I'm not entirely sure, but honestly, I'm glad I went. Even though I don't feel human, I still have lived among them, and should always be able to empathize with their struggles, just as these people seemed to have with me. For those of us who don't fully cross to being feral (for lack of a better term), hopefully, experiences like mine are more commonplace. Hopefully, we're still peers of society. -Ceri

(Drawing in photograph by TrillaArts on Twitter)

[thornsnvultures]

a nice day to start again

eddie munson x plus size!reader

summary: a little rain isn't going to stop your special day

a/n: super short drabble ft. wayne the best duncle (dad uncle) ever, suggested rockstar!eddie au at the end, cw: eddie & reader have pos dads but they have each other so fuck em, <800 words

---

On a Friday afternoon in June, you and Eddie stood by the living room window of his trailer and watched as the skies opened up.

"Did neither of you knuckleheads check the weather?"

Wayne didn't look up from his newspaper, oddly scanning the sports page while Eddie nervously wrung his hands.

"Well, y'see...uh-"

"No, I guess we didn't," you nervously chuckled. You took one of Eddie's hands so he'd stop picking at his fingernails. "But that's okay. We'll only be in and out of the courthouse anyway."

A gentle squeeze to Eddie's hand and a smile softens the worry on his face. All you have to do is drive to the courthouse, do the dang thing, and drive to Steve's for the after party he's throwing with all your friends. Easy peasy. What's a little rain?

The sound of rustling paper and the squeaking groan of Wayne's chair pulls you from your thoughts.

"Grab the umbrella," Wayne grumbles. "The big one. I'm driving."

"Wayne you don't need to," Eddie waves his hands as Wayne pulls on his coat over his dress shirt and tie.

"If y'all want to do this, I am. Not sittin' in the back of that death trap again, Ed." Wayne grabs his keys and quirks a brow at his boy. "You still wanna do this, yeah? Not gonna let a little rain stop you?"

"Hell no," you grin, softening Wayne's gruff expression. Your eyes water, Wayne looks at you with all the fondness of a father you've never had.

"No, sir," Eddie gulps.

"That's what I thought."

He claps Eddie on the shoulder and Eddie rushes off to grab the umbrella.

You hold your dress up and out of the mud as you race with Eddie to Wayne's truck. His borrowed boots are heavy on your feet but it's better than heels.

"Your friends meeting you there?" Wayne eyes the lack of space in the small cab, already too small for the three of you.

"No, they were fighting too much over who got to go and the county clerk told us only two witnesses allowed."

"Ah. So it's, uh, it's just me then?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you tease and pat Wayne's arm.

The poor old man grumbles to himself about punk ass kids while trying to choke back the emotion clogging his throat. You squeeze Eddie's hand in his lap.

"Ready, big guy?" You lean into Eddie's side, resting your head on his shoulder. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand as rain patters against the windows.

Eddie just nods, squeezing your hand tighter for a moment.

"I'll be fine," he relents after a moment of silence. "Just nervous, y'know?" He's quiet, whispering against your hair. "Wanna do right by you. Not like..."

"I know," you bring Eddie's hand to your lips. "Trust me I know. And you will. You already have, every day. That's why I'm here, silly."

Eddie kisses the top of your head but doesn't day anything else, just holds you close until you have to make another run for the doors of the courthouse.

The county clerks office is a tight squeeze just like they said, but it feels that much sweeter. Just you, Eddie, the judge (and his assistant) and a teary-eyed Wayne quietly blubbering in the corner. And when it's all said and done, Eddie's holding your face so gently, so tender that you can't hold the tears back either. You owe Nancy big time for letting you borrow her waterproof mascara.

"You kids have fun," Wayne says as he pulls up in front of Steve's house. "But not too much fun. I'm not ready to be a grandpa, y'hear me?"

"Wayne," Eddie whines and flicks the umbrella out of the cab and into the rain. It's still coming down hard.

"Drive safe, old man," you say as you squeeze Wayne up in a tight hug.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get me goin' again with the waterworks or I'm gonna miss my shows."

You climb out after Eddie, waving goodbye as Wayne's truck pulls away.

"Ready?"

The front door to Steve's house is already swinging wide open with Robin standing there waving a bottle of champagne around shouting about starting the party without them if they don't get their asses inside already.

His hand is warm and a little sweaty. It's real now, the promise you've made to be together forever. Greater than any record deal Eddie's ever signed.

You squeeze his hand.

"Ready."

[odinsblog]

Six days before Christmas, Darien Harris’ family showed up to court hoping he would be granted bail. They got more than they expected. He will walk out of a Chicago courthouse as a 30-year-old exonerated man after being incarcerated for 12 years.

On Tuesday, prosecutors dropped all charges against Harris in the 2011 shooting of Rondell Moore. Harris’ conviction was largely based on the testimony of a witness who turned out to be legally blind. Earlier this month, a judge overturned his conviction, and Cook County prosecutors said they planned to retry him. But after reviewing the totality of the evidence, they decided against retrying Harris.

Harris’ mother, Nekesha Harris, can finally release the shame and fear she said she’s been carrying for years as she raised her younger children.

“I feel like I am dreaming. I guess when I feel him in my arms, it will be real,” she said outside the courtroom shortly after prosecutors decided not to go forward with a second trial.

This outcome may be an answered prayer, but experts say the Harris case underscores a series of cracks in the criminal justice system. Mistaken eyewitness identification is among the leading contributors in wrongful conviction cases across the country.

Of the more than 3,400 wrongful convictions since 1989, more than 900 — most of them Black — were the result of witnesses mistakenly identifying a person as the culprit, according to the National Registry of Exonerations’ database.

Black men are also overrepresented in the headcount of exonerees every year. Moreover, most exonorees were incarcerated for more than half of their lives. Harris was arrested weeks before his high school graduation in June 2011 and convicted in 2014.

(continue reading)

[rabbitcruiser]

Colorado Springs was incorporated on June 19, 1886.

[electric-lights]

(un)welcome visitors

Rafael Barba x gn!reader

"I didn't know every coffee maker between here and the DA's office mysteriously combusted."

He purses his lips in a humorless smile, leaning against the wooden sideboard and tapping his fingers impatiently as the machine heats up. "Carmen's out sick," he explains, his voice clipped. "The coffee stand's closed, and even I can't make myself drink the courthouse sludge."

Rafael may be using you for your coffee maker, but when a personal issue arises he offers some unexpected support.

tags: established friendship, fluff, mutual pining, hint of family angst on the reader's side, gender neutral reader, no y/n, no reader physical description

word count: 1400

note: it's only vaguely alluded to but reader is a law librarian at the county law library, which happens to be located right across from 1 hogan :) essentially you research, gather, and analyze legal materials for the public, courts, and recently a certain ADA

read on ao3 here

You lean back in your office chair with an amused grin. "Nice to see you too, Barba."

The man currently beelining it to your office's single cup coffee machine doesn't have the good grace to look chagrined. Rafael shoves his thermos underneath the spout, drops a pod in the machine, and slams the lid without even looking at you. "Yes, hello, you look good, how've you been," he rattles out dryly.

"You talking to me or the Keurig?"

The withering look he shoots you is mostly without teeth. It's not enough to deter you.

"I didn't know every coffee maker between here and the DA's office mysteriously combusted."

He purses his lips in a humorless smile, leaning against the wooden sideboard and tapping his fingers impatiently as the machine heats up. "Carmen's out sick," he explains, his voice clipped. "The coffee stand's closed, and even I can't make myself drink the courthouse sludge."

You raise your eyebrows.

He glances over, then does such an utterly offended double take that you have to turn your surprised snort into a cough. "That was under duress," he warns, raising a finger in your direction.

You can't help it.

"I come to you in my time of need and you mock me," he deadpans as you laugh.

"Right, except I was your third choice."

He opens his mouth to deliver what promises to be a scathing retort, but the machine chooses that moment to finally hiss to life and the aroma of vanilla beans starts to fill the office. Rafael sighs, and some of the bristling tension seeps out of his shoulders. You decide he's probably suffered enough.

"Look, not that I don't appreciate the visit," you lean forward on your elbows against the desk, "but have you ever thought about just buying one for yourself?"

You knew he rarely used the old drip maker collecting dust in his office, preferring to buy it fresh - or, when he's particularly desperate and can't get away, send Carmen out with his card. In fact, you weren't even sure the damn thing worked until you'd found half of SVU camped out in his office late one night, going over the details of a difficult case with the carafe passed around the table. But surely, when caffeine-withdrawal was at stake...

"Then people would ask to use it." Rafael's nose wrinkles at the thought as he watches the thermos fill.

The stunning lack of self-awareness doesn't seem to register.

"Hmm," you hum, "says the man raiding my coffee stash." He blinks, pausing as he screws the thermos lid on. "The man with his own snack budget at the 16th."

He rolls his eyes. "They should consider it payment for goods and services." He says it with no small amount of smarm, but as he turns towards the loveseat you managed to cram into the corner of your small office, you watch him cradle the warm thermos in his hands like a prized possession.

"Speaking of," you say slowly, reaching down into the bottom drawer of your desk and tossing the contents to him. "Here."

He deftly catches the bag, and you feel inordinately pleased when you see his eyes light up at the chicago-style popcorn. "What's this for?"

Because you see how hard he works. Because you like that your office has become a place he frequents. Because you want him to stay a little while longer.

Because you're starting to like him more than the professional bounds of your positions, even the personal warmth of your friendship, and a small, foolish part of you can't help but hope he might feel the same way.

You clear your throat a little, shifting under the way his observant gaze turns thoughtful at your silence. "Let's just say Sergeant Benson isn't the only one with a snack budget."

He huffs a laugh, murmurs his thanks, and just like that any moment you imagined is gone.

With warm drink and food in hand, he finally collapses into the old, worn loveseat. He settles, sinking into the cushions and letting his eyes flutter shut as he tips his head back with a sigh, the long line of his neck and hint of scruff bared above his slightly loosened tie. You give him a moment, quietly shuffling some papers around, trying not to think about the warmth in your chest at seeing him so comfortable in your own space.

It isn't until he sits back up, taking a sip from his thermos with a pleased hum, that you speak, your voice quiet. "So how are you Raf, really?"

"Tired." He breaks open the popcorn. "Sick of fighting off motions for this case. You?"

You grimace, thinking about the pile of work growing in your inbox. "About the same."

"Well aren't we a pair." He gives a little crooked smile as he says it, and you try not to look too pleased with his choice of words.

You settle into quiet conversation - about his mother (she's doing well, and he talks about her work at the charter school with no small amount of pride), about the latest inter-office gossip (there's at least two affairs going on but he only complains about O'Dwyer's latest promotional pet project), about the request his office sent over yesterday (you're already working on the case analyses).

He's just explaining what details he'd like you to look out for when there's a light rap at your door.

Rafael pauses. You unconsciously straighten in your seat before you call out. "Yes?"

The door creaks open and one of the front desk assistants steps just inside the threshold. "I'm sorry to interrupt." She looks between you and Rafael, then turns back to you. "But your father is here to see you."

You blink.

"That can't be right," you frown. "My parents don't even live in the city."

She glances again at Rafael - who's watching you intently over his thermos - before she turns back to you with a strained smile. "Just passing along what he said," she says, her voice apologetic.

"Did he give a name?"

When she says it you sigh, cursing internally. "Alright, I'll... I'll be down in a minute. Thank you."

And with that, she nods at you both and closes the door behind her. In the ensuing silence, the easy, friendly air from before seems to have been sucked out of the room after her.

"Should I go?"

"No." Your reply is fast enough that Rafael'e eyebrows raise in surprise. "No, I'll just see what he wants and send him home. He shouldn't even be - I can't believe he's - fuck." You trail off into a groan of frustration, burying your head in your hands.

"One of those, huh," he says softly. It's not spoken as a question.

"Yeah," you mutter into your hands.

"Want me to scare him off?"

You know he's just trying to lighten the mood but your heart still jumps when you look up at him, foolish and half hope. "Would you?"

It slips out before you can stop it but you can't regret asking, not when he holds your gaze with a kind of warmth and sincerity he usually can't afford to show.

"For you?" he murmurs, "Of course."

You're proud that your next breath comes out relatively steady.

"Thank you," you say softly. "But you really don't need to get in the middle of my family drama."

His lips twitch into a wry, crooked smile. "I'm paid to get in the middle of family drama all the time. Yours is no trouble, trust me."

Your chest shakes with a laugh despite yourself, and his smile softens, his eyes crinkling. In the light of the setting sun from your window, it makes him look younger. Lighter.

It looks good on him.

"At least let me walk you down."

He never was one to give up on a tough case. If you're honest with yourself, you never want him to stop.

"Alright, alright," you cede with a small smile. "It's a deal, counselor."

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Rafael pushes up from the loveseat, thermos in hand. He takes his overcoat from the rack by the door and holds out your own, and your elbows brush as he steps out of your office behind you.

As the two of you walk down the hallway towards the elevator and whatever unpleasant surprise awaits you in the lobby, you realize that somehow - with Rafael beside you - you don't dread it.

[jungle-angel]

From A Father To His Son (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Despite everything he had been through, Rhett comes to a realization that his family would do anything for you, him and Amy

Warnings: Perry slander, shouting, cursing, mentions of abuse, custody battle, Perry being a total shithead etc. etc. 

Tagging: @sebsxphia @nobody7102​

It was a gloomy, rainy evening, one of those evenings where not a single person would have ever thought it best to go anywhere or do anything. Rain pelted the windows while thunder had begun to roll over Wabang, the chill in the air giving you and Rhett a glimpse of the chilly autumn that would soon be coming. 

Rhett sat at the kitchen table with a mug full of steaming hot cinnamon and vanilla coffee, made just a little lighter by the splash of milk that had come from the gallon jug in the fridge. It had been a long day and an even tougher one. Amy was only a week and a half old, the tiny little baby needing round-the-clock care, but the thought of Perry trying to get at her was always on his mind. Always it lingered like a bad smell, annoying and irritating, gnawing at his bones and his mind ceaselessly. 

The day that you had brought Amy home had been three days after Rebecca had left, not wanting a single thing to do with the family or her daughter. You and Rhett had both felt horrible and yet, you were both at ease knowing that Amy would be better off with the both of you. 

But he also thought back to the days when he and Perry had been children. Rhett had often been left to his own devices while Perry remained under the watchful eyes of his mother and father. Rhett had always wondered why, why they hadn’t paid as much attention to him as they had done for Perry. It was enough to drive him crazy.....utterly, fucking crazy. 

The kitchen door creaked open and in walked Royal who hung his hat on the rack near the microwave. “Hey son,” he said. 

Rhett didn’t respond, bringing the coffee mug to his lips and taking in that warming liquid. “Come back to gimme shit?” Rhett asked him. 

Royal sighed and shook his head. “Listen, Rhett.....” 

“Whaddaya want Dad?” Rhett questioned. “Huh? Still protecting Perry like he’s the prodigal son?” 

Royal snorted a little. “Wouldn’t protect that shithead after what he did.” 

Rhett scrunched his eyebrows together. “Whaddaya mean?” 

Royal seated himself across from Rhett. “Every day I look at that baby upstairs and I think back to you, Rhett,” Royal explained. “The day you entered this world, I held you and made a vow to protect you no matter the cost. When you and (y/n) brought Amy home last weekend, I thought of you.” 

Rhett had never expected to hear that from his father. Growing up, Royal hadn’t been the most affectionate with him.....no, that had fallen on Royal’s father, River Abbott, a salty Vietnam Veteran who had practically taken care of Rhett when Royal and Cecelia couldn’t. To hear it from Royal himself was a complete shock. 

Royal pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his coat and slid it over to Rhett, the corner reading the address of the Amelia County Courthouse. “What’s this?” 

“Paperwork for the lawyers,” Royal explained. “Perry signs that and he relinquishes all parental rights to Amy, you and (y/n) get full, legal and binding custody of her until she’s eighteen.” 

Rhett went wide-eyed. “Dad how did you.....?” 

“I’ve known the judge since we were kids,” Royal answered. “Your godfather promised to have Beth intervene if necessary too.” 

Rhett was in shock, complete shock at what Royal had done for him. “Dad you didn’t have to....” 

Royal held up a hand, a sign for Rhett to silence himself. “There’s somethin else too.....I owe you this more than anything.” 

He slid another envelope towards Rhett which was promptly opened. Rhett’s eyes grew even wider than before. “Dad?” 

“It’s the last twenty five thousand you and (y/n) need for the house in Montana,” he explained. “John and I had a good enough auction year that we could pool it together.” 

Rhett ran his hand over his mouth, his eyes beginning to mist over from the tears that were forming. “Dad I.....I dunno what to say,” he croaked.

“Ya’ll don’t have to say anything,” Royal insisted. “You three have been through enough.”

Rhett stood up and soon he and his father both had their arms around each other. “Thank you, Dad.” 

The sound of the porch stairs creaking, suddenly startled them both, but thankfully it was only Cecelia coming in from the barn. “Listen to me,” Royal warned him. “Ya’ll make sure that as soon as dinner’s over that (y/n) goes upstairs and locks herself and the baby in the nursery. I’ve got a feelin he’ll be home later and shit’s gonna hit the fan.” 

Rhett nodded and took the two envelops off the table, heading upstairs to put them away in the little wooden mailbox above his computer desk. He passed through the hall, right by the room that served as Amy’s nursery. Through the slightly ajar door, he saw you standing near Amy’s crib, calmly rocking her in your arms, cooing to her in the soft glow of her little Disney princess lamp that rested on her dresser. Amy looked so delicate and cozy, wrapped in the little Irish knit blanket that you and Cecelia had worked on since before she had been born. 

“Uh huh.....yeah I know.....but your Daddy will take care of that big, mean monster who likes to come around here and snoop,” you told Amy as she cooed sleepily. 

Rhett entered the room, unable to control the smile on his face upon seeing you. “How are my girlies?” he chuckled. 

“Well, one girlie is still having some trouble sleeping,” you answered. “And one has been wanting you all day long.” 

Rhett laughed a little bit, pushing a loose wisp of hair out of his face, drawing you in and kissing Amy’s little head. “Listen darlin,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve gotta tell you something.” 

“What’s up?” 

“Dad told me that after dinner he needs you and Amy to stay upstairs,” Rhett explained. “Don’t come outta here, no matter what you hear, no matter what’s said...lock the door and make sure you’re with Amy.” 

You nodded, not needing to ask any questions. The last time you had witnessed something in the Abbott household involving the huge fight between Perry and Rhett, had been something you wished you hadn’t witnessed. 

************

The kitchen was quieter than it had ever been, the two men dreading what would ensue the minute Perry saw those papers, Royal most of all. He didn’t feel guilty, not at all, but rather a deep sense of tension that left him and Rhett ramped up, the anxiety so noticeable one could have smelled it. 

“He ain’t comin,” Rhett muttered when the digital clock on the stove turned to eight. 

“Just you wait,” Royal said, taking a sip of the coffee in his mug. “He’ll come stompin through any minute.” 

Sure enough, there was the door, creaking open, only to shut again followed by the clunking of heavy boots.....Perry. 

“The fuck is this?” Perry asked when he entered the kitchen and saw the papers on the table. 

“Somethin for you to sign,” Royal informed him. 

Perry snatched the papers off the table, his eyes glazing over them quickly. The silent tension in the room had grown worse, Perry’s jaw clenching and his eyes burning before he slammed the papers to the table. 

“Hell no!” he declared loudly.

“You’re gonna sign those fuckin papers whether you like it or not,” Royal snarled. 

“That’s my daughter......MY daughter!” 

“She’s my daughter too,” Rhett said icily. 

“Fuck you!” Perry shouted. “She ain’t your flesh and blood! Your fuckin wife didn’t birth her!” 

Rhett and Perry lunged right for each other but Royal was quick enough to grab Perry by the shirtcollar and slammed him right onto the kitchen table, the coffee mugs spilling their contents and clattering to the floor. 

“Now you listen to me you shit-for-brains goat turd,” Royal sneered. “You go anywhere and I mean ANYWHERE, near that baby and I’ll fuckin bury you. You so much as TOUCH my grandbaby and I’ll have ya’ll shipped off to the backwoods in another country and see how ya’ll deal with it then.” 

“I’m your fuckin son, Dad,” Perry blurted out. 

“Not anymore,” Royal spat. “I gave ya every chance I could Perry. Enough’s enough. Ya’ll got two weeks to pack your shit and get the fuck outta my house. If ya aren’t out by then, I’m callin Joy to evict your sorry ass.” 

“M’sorry Dad,” Perry blurted out again. “M’sorry.” 

“Don’t you fucking say you’re sorry to us!” Rhett shouted. “You don’t know what either of us has given up to protect your sorry ass or to protect Amy from you! YOU’RE THE REASON AMY DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING MOM!!!” 

Oh did that one shut Perry right up. He couldn’t even form words, much less a coherent sentence. 

“Go get the phone,” Royal told Rhett. “I want Rip, Kayce and Wes all in here as witnesses to make sure those papers get signed.” 

“Oh it would be my utmost pleasure Dad,” Rhett agreed, still coming down from the highs of his anger. 

*****************

Up in the nursery, you sat in the creaky old rocker that had been in the family for generations, gently rocking the tiny baby in your arms as she remained attached to your nipple. It wasn’t easy being on the medicine that stimulated the flow of milk, but Cecelia’s old home remedies had been an immense help as well. Besides, you and Rhett hadn’t been comfortable at all with the idea of Amy being completely bottle fed all the time. 

You tried not to think about the awful shouting and clattering downstairs in the kitchen, right below your feet, hoping it wouldn’t wake Amy. A wakeful little coo escaped Amy’s throat as she suckled away, filling her little belly full of milk to put her to sleep. 

“Slow down princess,” you chuckled, feeling her tug just slightly. “You must be hungrier than I thought.” 

You cringed a little bit when you heard a loud curse coming up through the floorboards, letting out the deep breath you held in. Thank God the door was locked. If anybody had broken in, you wouldn’t have been able to hide properly. 

You quietly sang to Amy, hoping that it would put you both at ease. You had always loved playing “Edelweiss” on the guitar or the little hand harp you had gotten as a wedding gift, the words so happy and full of love, reminding you of your first spring with Rhett and the story he told of his Oma Heidi and her journey to America. 

No sooner had you finished than a soft knock at the door signaled Rhett’s arrival. You carefully stood up and unlocked the door to let him in, a look of victory on his face. 

“Did you do it?” you asked. 

“Papers are signed,” Rhett answered, grinning when your face lit up. 

“She’s ours?!” you suddenly blurted out. “She’s really ours?” 

“She is sweetheart,” Rhett told you, kneeling beside the rocker and kissing the top of Amy’s head. “She’s all ours.” 

You were so full of joy that your eyes began to well up, even as Rhett pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. It would still be a bit of a long road, but at long last, Amy was rightfully yours.....and always would be. 

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A federal lawsuit filed Tuesday seeks the removal of a Confederate monument marked as “in appreciation of our faithful slaves” from outside of a North Carolina county courthouse.

The Concerned Citizens of Tyrrell County, a civic group focused on issues facing local Black residents, and several of its members filed the lawsuit against the county’s commissioners. The legal complaint argues that the monument constitutes racially discriminatory government speech in violation of the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause.

Tyrrell County includes a few thousand residents in eastern North Carolina. The monument, which was erected on the courthouse grounds in 1902, features a Confederate soldier standing atop a pedestal, with one of the markings below mentioning “faithful slaves.” The lawsuit argues that the monument conveys a racist and offensive message that Black people who were enslaved in the county preferred slavery to freedom.

“The point of putting such a monument near the door of the Tyrrell County Courthouse was to remind Black people that the county’s institutions saw their rightful place as one of subservience and obedience, and to suggest to them that they could not and would not get justice in the courts,” the lawsuit argues.

The Associated Press contacted the Tyrrell County manager via email requesting a comment on the lawsuit.

North Carolina legislators enacted a law in 2015 that limits when an “object of remembrance” such as a military monument can be relocated. Still, the lawsuit says more than a dozen Confederate monuments have been taken down in North Carolina in the past five years, many due to votes by local officials.

Others were removed by force. In 2018, protesters tore down a Confederate statue known as “Silent Sam” at the University of North Carolina campus at Chapel Hill. Statues of soldiers from the North Carolina Confederate Monument on the old Capitol grounds in Raleigh came down in June 2020. Gov. Roy Cooper, citing public safety, directed that the remainder of the monument and two others on Capitol grounds be removed.

Confederate monuments in North Carolina, as elsewhere nationwide, were a frequent focal point for racial inequality protests in the late 2010s, and particularly in 2020 following the murder of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer.

The Concerned Citizens of Tyrrell County wrote that they have fought for the courthouse monument’s removal for years, from testifying at county commission meetings to advertising on billboards.

[darkmaga-retard]

A 16-times deported illegal alien is now only facing a slap on the wrist from the judge for killing a 64-year-old Colorado man after the Democrat prosecutor secured a cushy deal for the killer.

47-year-old Ignacio Cruz-Mendoza is now only facing a maximum sentence of one year in prison for taking the life of Scott Miller.

Cruz-Mendoza was offered the slap on the wrist from Democrat District Attorney Alexis King in exchange for pleading guilty to causing a deadly crash that killed Miller earlier this summer.

However, the maximum of one year in jail is a far more lenient sentence than what the same district attorney’s office has handed down for similar crashes.

Cruz-Mendoza will be sentenced in Jefferson County courthouse on Friday.

The widow of the man who died in the crash is trying to figure out why the district attorney’s office didn’t bring forward more charges.

“I’m mad that I’m not going to get justice for my husband, mad because the least the most this man can get is a year for murdering my husband because the DA refused to charge him with more charge,” Deann Miller said.

Miller died when a truck slammed into his car on Highway 285 near Bailey.

Cruz-Mendoza didn’t have a valid driver’s license, and he was in the country illegally.

[fatchance]

Another posting lapse is underway. I'm headed to my hometown in Virginia for family, food, and my fiftieth high school reunion. I have a great backlog of photos, which will likely only grow while I'm away. Fresh posts resume when I return.

Here's a postcard for you of the old Norfolk County Courthouse in Portsmouth, Virginia. Norfolk County no longer exists – subsumed by surrounding cities – and the courthouse is now repurposed as the city's art and cultural center. It was built in 1846. The circuit court still operated in the building during my high school years; I was a witness at a trial held there in a cramped, airless courtroom. It was a miserable experience that convinced me unequivocally that law school was not an option for me.

The postcard was printed by the Detroit Publishing Co. in 1905. The image is from the digital collections of the New York Public Library.