#She was born in 1994

[simptasia]

my mum was in labour with me for 46 hours. this is due to several reasons. she was a recovering cancer paitent so her body was very weak. they pumped her with painkillers every hour of that labour (so 46 shots of... something. im not kidding), therefore making her weaker. the only thing she had to eat during this experience was a snickers bar. and finally, i fell asleep for a few hours midway through the birth canal and they couldn't bother me. sleepy baby

[autism-swagger]

Fun fact: based on the timeline it's entirely possible that Kirby from Scream was named after Kirby the video game character

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[john-marshall]

my roommate doesn’t have the town she was born in memorized. i dont get that

[vinceaddams]

I hope they're all finding really cool bugs and/or nice rocks & leaves.

i hope the 11 year old transmascs of the world arent on social media i hope theyre playing outside in the dirt

[lattehearted]

"I had never noticed before...but so many stories about vampires begin centuries ago. Antebellum, Victorian, Edwardian, older eras still. I suppose the human race has always been fascinated with history. Perhaps it's as romanticized as the idea of immortality."

OPEN: nasreen (a fledgling vampire of only a couple years) waxes philosophical about vampire mythos. she continues to work evenings at a local museum despite her affliction, which could be where your muse finds her, though it can be anyplace else as well.

[ash-tree-eyes]

The thing is, I’m from South Africa, and as anyone born here after 1994 will tell you, the history of apartheid is drilled into us every year in school. No matter what other history we do, we always get back to apartheid.

One of the things we study is how and why apartheid came to an end; among the biggest reasons was international pressure. A point we usually touch on is how apartheid-era South African athletes could not compete in international sporting events like the Olympics. I once met a woman who was a world class athlete during the latter years of apartheid. She could not compete in the Olympics as a South African, and had to leave the country and join up with another country to take part.

And that is why I couldn’t understand, watching the Olympics opening ceremony last night, that Israel was allowed to be there.

If the world was better at dealing with apartheid states thirty years ago than it is now, I think we have a problem.

[silverowl102]

Hi, reader. Remember that children book series you adored? Here’s how old the characters would be now.

Percy Jackson - turning 31 this August (The Lightening Thief was published in 2005. Percy was twelve.)

Amy and Dan Cahill - 30 and 27 (The 39 Clues wiki page puts Amy as born in 1994 and Dan in 1997.)

Sabrina and Daphne Grimm - 30 and 26 (The Fairytale Dectectives was published in 2005. Sabrina was 11. Daphne was 7. Some disagreement on the fandom wiki for their birth years compared to publication date.)

Artemis Fowl - 38 (The first book was published in 2001. Artemis was 12.)

And the real kicker?

Junie B. Jones would be 37. (The first book was published in 1992. She was 5 in the series.)

I hope you all feel as old as I do.

[willowsallen]

🪶    /    in  the  source  link  below,  you’ll  gain  access  to  #276  gifs  of  camila mendes  in  música  (2024).  she  was  born  in  the  year  1994  and  is  of  pardo brazilian (indigenous, white)  descent,  so  please  cast  appropriately  when  using  my  resources.  all  of  these  gifs  were  made  from  scratch,  so  you  may  edit  these  as  much  as  you’d  like,  but  please  don’t  redistribute  or  claim  as  your  own.  please  refer  to  my  rules  for  further  information.

note:  this  pack  is  completely  free  and  is  also  accessible  through  a  zip  file.

this is a secret santa gift for @malboraslihan! happy holidays!

[sol91]

Lena

"Lena Luthor?"

A man stood before Lena. He was in his 50s, balding, and wore a pair of thick spectacles. He was staring down at a clipboard.

"Here we go— Lena Luthor, born October 24, 1994," He said.

Lena looked around. She was standing in a featureless white void, nothing in sight except herself and the man in front of her.

"Where am I?"

"Where—" The man looked up at Lena. "Have I not given you the— hold on". He flipped a few pages on his clipboard and began reading in a dull monotone. "Welcome to the afterlife. Yes, you are dead. No, this is not heaven. No, this is not hell. I am a higher dimensional being here to help place you into an appropriate afterlife experience. No, I am not an angel. No, I am not a demon. Please hold all questions until the end." He flipped back to his previous clipboard page.

"If you're a higher dimensional being, why do you have a British accent?" Lena asked.

"Oh, we find this process goes faster if we present as someone you find slightly irritating." He said, "Fewer questions this way."

"Why does it matter how long it takes? Is time even real here?"

The man looked up from his clipboard in irritation.

"Okay fine, sorry. Continue"

"Thank you. Alright, let's see what you got up to." The man began mumbling off events in Lena's life one after another. "Moved to National City… saved the world from your mother… very good, very good… helped save the world that time as well… black Kryptonite, hmm…"

Lena stared incredulously at the being who would decide her fate.

"…then you trapped your soulmate in some sort of castle on the south pole…"

"Hold on, who says she's my soulmate?"

"…even though she was just trying to help you…"

"Do soulmates even exist?"

"Yes, they do." The man said factually, looking up. "Says she's your soulmate right here" He turned his clipboard around to face Lena. The page he had been reading from was completely unintelligible to human eyes, a mass of incomprehensible symbols and characters that swirled and shifted across its surface. The man turned the clipboard back around, apparently satisfied he had proven his point, and returned to mumbling his way through Lena's accomplishments.

"…attempted to reprogram the consciousness of everyone on earth… well, everyone needs a hobby I suppose but that wasn't very…"

"I was trying to help." Lena protested "Trying to fix humanity."

"That was your first mistake." The man said without looking up. "And then you were killed by a…" The man flipped to the next page. "Space laser. In a secret mountain hideout. Well, might as well go out with a bang."

"Is my life just a joke to you?" Lena was starting to raise her voice. "Who are you to judge me anyway?"

"It's my job." He said, still not looking up. He seemed completely unfazed by this outburst.

"It's easy for you, you don't know what it's like down there." Lena was yelling now. "I had nobody. My whole life, I was alone. The only person who ever stood up for me, ever believed in me at all was Kara, and I—"

Lena paused as her anger melted and settled into a pit in her stomach.

"—and I hurt her. The only person who was there for me."

She turned away from the man and stared off into the void.

"My soulmate."

Lena collapsed into a sitting position.

"Kara."

Noticing that Lena had finished talking, the man began to explain something about evaluation criteria. Lena had stopped listening. She considered taking off into the void, looking for some way back, some way to fix things. But she knew it was futile. She was dead. She was—

Lena's train of thought was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. Lena looked up. An early 20th century wall telephone had materialized in midair next to the spectacled man. He didn't seem particularly surprised, but stopped talking and picked up the earpiece.

"Hello?" He said, still sounding bored. "Yes, she's here."

Lena stared up from what was either the floor or the ground, depending on if boundless voids counted as outside.

"What?" Now he was surprised. Irritated, even. "The Lazarus Pit? I thought we agreed to stop giving them ways to do this."

Lena tried not to enjoy his frustration.

"What do you mean grandfathered in?"

He sighed in exasperation at whatever his colleague was saying on the other end.

"Fine. But you're doing all the paperwork for this." He said finally, hanging up the earpiece with slightly more force than necessary.

"Alright." He said, looking back at Lena, "Some soulmate you've got there."

"What?"

"Off you go." Said the man, and clapped once. Everything went dark.

Lena opened her eyes. She was floating in cool water, staring up at iridescent blue light dancing across a dark cave ceiling. A pair of strong arms supported her floating body, holding her head out of the water.

"Lena?" Kara's concerned voice echoed around the cave.

"Kara." Lena tried to straighten up but found herself sitting in Kara's arms, looking up at her soulmate.

"Lena, are you okay?" Kara met Lena's gaze "I thought I lost you. I'm sorry—"

"No, I'm sorry." Said Lena, cutting Kara off. "For everything. Can we start over?"

"Of course we can." Kara said softly. "Just stay with me."

Lena rested her head against Kara's shoulder and breathed deeply. "Always." Lena promised.

[moeswriting]

mine | 1. wondering why we bother with love

pairing: young!no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

chapter summary: a regular day at work turns into the beginning of something joel never thought would happen to him again.

chapter warnings: joel is 22 and reader is 20, mentions of a bad marriage and teenage pregnancy, reader is described a small amount (has hair, able-bodied, wears feminine clothing, is going to school for secondary english education, has a heavily-detailed background), joel being the single dad™, southern banter and teasing, fluff, joel being a flirt, baby sarah being her dad's favorite, if i missed anything let me know

word count: 3.6k (future chapters will be longer)

a/n: good lord, this got some attention!!! i'm so fucking grateful for it. really excited for you guys to read this. hope you like it. lemme know what you think. any reblogs and likes are appreciated <3

series masterlist | next chapter ->

read this chapter on ao3

You were in college, working part-time waiting tables

Left a small town, never looked back

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin'

Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

✦ ✦ ✦

October 1994

At seventeen-years-old, Joel Miller found out that his girlfriend was pregnant. It was startling and overbearing and horrifying and it made him want to scream at the sky, at God or whatever was up there and curse them for fucking up his life. He told Amanda that he was there for her, would do anything for her, but he was scared shitless.

At eighteen, he was holding a baby in the hospital with a ring on his left hand and thanking whatever was up there for bringing him a healthy baby girl to hold for the rest of his life. Maybe it was too soon, but as soon as he laid eyes on her, he knew. He knew he would love Sarah for the rest of his life and even beyond that. But, Amanda held her for a second and gave her back to him. He knew that she resented him– could tell by the way she fidgeted with the ring on her finger, pulling it off and then putting it back on, scowling at it when she thought he wasn’t looking. They moved into a small apartment near the college campus in Austin right before the baby was born. He could tell she hated that too. He knew he could grin and bear it, as long as Sarah got to have two parents.

At twenty, he came home from his job at the small diner across the street to their small apartment where his little girl was crying in her crib and a note sat on the counter that read, “I’m just not built to be a mother or a wife, Joel.” All of her things were gone. It was like she’d never been there at all.

That night, he held Sarah in his arms and cried. He watched her big, curious eyes as his tears ran down her face and soaked into her pink pajamas. He thinks maybe she knew what was going on– the toddler was always more ahead than he ever was. It only took a day for her to start begging for her mother, sobbing in Joel’s arms as he held her tight to his chest, hushing in her ear, trying to sing any lullaby he could think of. It took her two months to stop bringing her up at all.

By twenty-two, he’s a fully-functioning single dad. He has a stable job at the diner and does some contracting with his brother on the side. His mom helps him watch Sarah while he’s working– shows him pictures of her on her digital camera she insists on bringing with her everywhere when he gets back from work. There’s a wall in his kitchen dedicated to his favorites. He never stops thanking her for everything she does for him.

Sarah is growing beautifully. Her curly hair is a mess, but he’s trying his best to learn how to do it right. Amanda had always done it before– pigtails and braids perfectly set on her tiny head. But he finds that her thick hair is hard to tame on his own. He takes her to the salon downtown for them to do her braids whenever he can afford it. Her big brown eyes could make him do anything– she knows just how to work him with her wet, puppy dog stare and pouty lips. She’s up to his knees now. Everytime he comes home from work, she’ll run to him and crash into his calves and he can’t help but smile everytime she does it.

She’s his world, his everything.

It’s a Sunday morning. He always works Sunday mornings because the church crowd always tips well and today is no different. Sweat is dripping down his back from running around, and his brain feels like it’s split in half with all the orders stuffed in his head. The diner’s small enough that he’s only one of two servers working, despite how ridiculously busy it is, but he doesn’t mind. He can’t mind, really.

“Donald! Where’s my pancakes?”

The owner of the establishment’s balding head peaks out of the kitchen, as he yells back at him, “In your ass, Miller!”

“Hilarious,” he deadpans, pushing an order sheet back into the kitchen for Donald to grab, “Hurry it up, please. Mr. Cassini is starting to get hangry again.”

Donald laughs boisterously, “Oh, that old man is always angry!”

Joel waves him off, “Just do it, Don.”

“No problem, kid!”

He turns around and there’s a new patron sitting at one of his tables. A woman, body guarded, eyes on alert, evaluating the diner for the closest exits. You look scared, but only in the way that prey does when it knows it’s safe– waiting for the next predator to flash its teeth at your trembling form. Your hair is wet, as well as the tops of your shoulders, which are tucked into a large hoodie that swallows you. He didn’t realize it was raining. Your sneaker-clad feet are tucked under your legs, criss-cross-applesauce on the soft leather of the booth beneath you.

You’re beautiful.

Tapping his pencil against his order pad, he approaches you carefully. You look like you’ll run for the hills if he takes you by surprise. But, his tapping seems to alert you of his presence, as your head turns towards him. You watch him with a discerning look and fold your hands on your lap.

He pulls out the Southern charm his momma taught him, smile and all, hoping it might ease your cautiousness, “Hello, ma’am. Can I get you something to drink?”

You look surprised– eyebrows raised and eyes wide, like you didn’t expect him to talk. It’s odd, he thinks.

“Oh– uh–” you look down to the menu he placed in front of you upon his approach– “Iced tea?”

Just from your voice alone– and piled onto the fact that he knows everyone around here, and he’s damn sure he’s never seen a woman as pretty as you before– he knows you aren’t from around here. He has the sudden and all-consuming need to know everything about you. Why are you here? Who the hell are you?

“You need a lemon with that, sweetheart?” He can’t keep his eyes off you.

“Oh, no, no. Sugar is good enough for me.” As if to prove your point, you pull a couple packets of Sweet ‘N Low out of the small container at the end of the table and toss them next to the menu splayed out in front of you.

“Alright, darlin’. One iced tea comin’ up.” He pulls out a wink for you and walks away. He isn’t prepared to see the aftermath of his overconfidence. He really hopes you don’t run.

And he finds that you haven’t when he comes back with your iced tea in his hand. He places it down in front of you with a, Here you go, hon, and asks if you want anything to eat, and you decline. He rushes to get to his other customers. Tips are more important than the beautiful woman, he has to tell himself, but he finds that his eyes drift to you as you dump three pink packets of the sweetener into your tea and swirl it around. He shakes his head in amusement when you pull a book out of the backpack sitting next to you and start to read.

✦ ✦ ✦

When he comes back to check on you again, you’ve downed your glass of tea and you’re squinting your eyes as you write on the page of the book in front of you, underlining a passage you determine is worthy of note, not once, not twice, but three times. He thinks he sees the words ‘idealized love’ as he pours more tea from the pitcher he brought with him into your plastic cup.

“Whatcha readin’?”

Your eyes don’t even leave the page, pencil doesn’t cease writing as you reply, “The Great Gatsby.”

“Huh. Read that in high school. Kinda sad, ain’t it?”

You place your pencil down in the crease of your paperback, still reading, “I suppose so.”

It’s gone quiet in the diner now that the Church crowd has left, the sound of the jukebox in the corner the only background noise remaining. Only people here now are you and Mr. Cassini, but he’s preoccupied with Doreen, the other waitress on duty today. They’re flirting in the way that old people do, with shy smiles and boisterous laughter. He thinks he can take a quick break.

He sits down on the booth across from you and you look up at him for the first time since he came back to fill your tea.

“What’re you doing,” you ask– not in anger or annoyance, but just genuine confusion.

“Sittin’. This book for pleasure or school?”

You seem to accept his presence here with you as your new, temporary situation and put your bookmark– a pressed leaf– back in your book and close it shut. “School.”

He hums, disappointment dripping down his back, “You in high school then?”

Your eyebrows furrow before you seem to realize where he is drawing his conclusion from, “Oh! No, no. I’m studying to be an English teacher. We’re supposed to read this and come up with a fake lesson plan.”

Relief replaces the disappointment just as quickly as it had come.

“Huh. Interesting.”

You shrug, “I’d like to think so.”

He shuffles in his seat, pressing the cold leather against his sweltering back. “So, what– you gonna be a high school teacher?”

“I’m trying to. It’s hard work.” You pull out a few more packets of sweetener and pour them into your new cup of tea. He tries his best not to smile, but he can feel the corners of his lips pulling at his skin.

“Hard work is good for the soul– shows you got guts. That’s what my momma always says, anyways.”

You grin, “She sounds real smart, your mamma.” He hears you emulating his accent, teasing him for being so incredibly cliché, but he’s so focused on your blinding smile that he can’t even fight back.

“She is. She’s the best I could ask for.”

“Good. Everyone deserves a good mom,” you say, your smile almost turns sad as you say it. He wants to grab your face and beg you to tell him why what you said makes you sad, where’s your good mom that you deserve?

“Joel Miller, what are you doin’, sittin’ down? Get your ass up and clean some tables,” Donald yells from across the diner. Joel doesn’t even flinch– used to his sour attitude from almost four years of working here. But he watches you flinch, eyes going wide. You look warily over to Donald, assessing the situation, before you look back over to him.

You clear your throat, “It seems like you need to be getting to work, Joel Miller.”

You're teasing him again, but he can tell you’re nervous. He smiles, trying to calm your nerves as much as he can, and he thinks it works as he watches your shoulders relax slightly.

He chuckles, muttering to you conspiratorially, “Bitter old man, can’t see I’m trying to get myself a date over here.”

Your eyes flick down to your book and back up to him. Biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile he can see taking over your face, you reply, “Get back to work.”

“Alright, alright, sugar. I’m going,” he concedes, hands flying up in surrender.

The grin finally takes over your lips again and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful– besides his own baby girl’s smile. 

A name falls from your upturned lips.

“Huh?”

You laugh, opening your book back up and pulling yourself back into the story, “My name, Joel Miller.”

He repeats it back to you. It tastes like honey and sweetener on his tongue.

He wonders what you would taste like on his tongue.

“I’m getting off in 30 minutes.” An invitation.

You look back up at him. “Well, then, I guess I got another thirty minutes to read before you’re bothering me again.” You accept.

“I suppose you do.” He turns back to the counter and walks away. He can feel the pull to go back to you, to indulge himself in you further, but he needs the money and the extra $3 for the next thirty minutes could be the difference between his baby girl getting a full meal or not, and Donald has a nasty habit of not paying the full amount if he ain’t working, so he picks up a rag and gets back to work.

✦ ✦ ✦

Thirty minutes later, he’s pulling off his apron and bounding out of the backroom towards the table you’ve made a home of. He finds that you’ve packed up your things into your lavender bookbag, like you’re ready for whatever he throws at you– to go wherever he’s going to take you.

He wastes no time; he doesn’t want to be here anymore. “You wanna go on a walk?”

You nod your head eagerly. It seems you’re in agreement.

The pavement is a dark gray beneath your purple sneakers and his steel-toed boots, a pair his momma gave him for his 18th birthday. They’re good for work– sturdy, not too sweaty or uncomfortable. He wears them everyday. He wonders if you like cowboy boots, hopes you don’t find them tacky.

It’s still light out, around six in the afternoon. It stopped raining an hour ago, but the humidity still lies heavy in the air as the two of you make your way outside. It’s hot, but only in the way that Texas is in the middle of October. It’s comforting, like laying in front of a fire on a cold day.

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. He wants to take your hand, can feel his fingers twitching with the exertion of forcing himself to stop. You don’t even know him– he doesn’t want to scare you off yet.

You look to him for directions and he tilts his head forward and down the street, starting your walk at a slow, but steady, pace.

Austin is busy this time of year, what with all the college students a month or so into their return for the fall semester. The bars they pass are full of drunk students on  full-weekend benders and loud music. Stupid decisions and disco lighting. Sometimes he’s glad he was able to avoid all that. Sometimes he misses having the option of making mistakes.

He clears his throat, “Where you from, darlin’?”

You smile, kicking a rock with the edge of your sneaker, “Oh, is it that obvious that I’m not a Texas girl?”

If the lack of the local accent and not recognizing you wasn’t enough, the way you held yourself would be the obvious give away to him– nervous, on-guard. He finds that people around here aren’t scared of being too loud or in the way of anyone or anything. It was plain to him that you couldn’t stand the idea of getting in anyone’s way.

“Kinda,” he chuckles.

You hesitate, looking away from him and to the uneven sidewalk below you both, like you’re trying to decide if you should lie to him or not.

“Seattle.”

That takes him by surprise, but he hopes it doesn’t show too much. What in the hell were you doing all the way down here?

So many questions left unanswered in the aftermath of you.

“Woah– long way from home, aren’t we?”

Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah— yeah, I am.”

Home, family seem to be sore topics for you. He makes a note to avoid it.

“Never been to Seattle. In fact, I’ve never left Texas.”

Your eyebrows lift. “Really? Washington’s beautiful.”

“Lotsa rain, I hear.”

You let out a breath of amusement, “You hear correctly. It's one of the only things I miss about it. Texas isn’t exactly known for its rain.”

He snorts, “No, it ain’t. But, you got yourself some today. Bet that was nice.”

You nod. It’s a few moments of comfortable silence before you speak again.

“You from around here?”

He nods once, pushing his hands even further into his pockets in embarrassment, “Lived in Austin my whole life.”

“Joel Miller, you’ve gotta get out of Texas,” you laugh.

You’re beautiful when you laugh. Your smile lights up your whole face like the sun as you throw your head back towards the dreary sky, eyes crinkled by the pull of your cheeks.

He sighs lightly, “Yeah, ‘spose I do.”

You seem to realize something as you do a quick scan of your surroundings before you look back at him with narrowed eyes and a playful smirk.

“Miller, where are we going,” you draw out.

“Nowhere,” he mimics your drawn out syllables, “Just walkin’.”

You hum, “Hm, and I don’t suppose that nowhere is in the general direction of my college campus and that you may be ‘just walkin’ ‘ me to my dorm like the Southern gentleman you are?”

He chuckles, bashfully scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe.”

You pause, look him up and down, and then sigh, “Thank you, Joel.”

“It’s no problem, sugar.”

He lets you take the lead now that you’re approaching the campus, slowing his steps so he could keep up with you. You scrunch your eyebrows at the ground below you and pucker your lips, opening your mouth and then closing it again. When Sarah does that, he calls her ‘fishy’. He desperately wants to tell you about her, but he finds himself once again fighting the urge so he doesn’t scare you off. Not yet, he tells himself.

You look up at him again, eyes wide and biting your bottom lip, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

He’s staring. He knows he’s staring at your mouth, but he can’t help it. They’re like a siren song he can’t resist. He can’t think straight when you’re next to him. 

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts like an Etch-A-Sketch, “What?”

“‘Sugar’. Why do you keep calling me that?” You glance over at him, but quickly look back at the ground when you catch him staring at you. He can tell you’re flustered.

“Oh, well, I watched you pour three packets of sweetener in your tea like a maniac. So, I figured that was an appropriate nickname.”

You scoff, throwing your hands up in the air, a grin growing on your face, “Hey, that is a very appropriate amount of sweetener, thank you very much! I thought you Southerners adored your sweet tea.”

“Darlin’, if all us ‘Southerners’ drank three packets of sweetener with our iced tea, we would all be dying at a very young age.”

“Well then, I’ll die a very sugar-high and happy, young woman.”

He laughs– one of those real laughs that only his family can bring out of him. He can’t remember the last time he laughed like this in public.

���Y’know, if you’re gonna die young, sugar, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea that I do what I was about to do.”

You stop in front of the tall brick building in front of you, clicking your heels together, and playfully furrow your eyebrows again. You’ve reached your destination. This is goodbye. He doesn’t want it to be.

“And what were you about to do, Joel Miller?”

“Ask you on a date,” he smiles and you smirk, “But… if you’re planning on an early demise, darlin’, I don’t wanna get my heart broken.”

“And if I promised to cut back?” You’re approaching him quietly– two feet turning into almost chest-to-chest in a few agonizing seconds.

“Then, I’ll have to take you out to make sure you keep your promise– now, won’t I?”

He watches from the corner of his eye as you pull a piece of paper out of your hoodie pocket and stuff it in his own. The soft, fleeting feeling of your hand brushing his makes a shiver run down his spine. Your hand quickly retreats.

You look up at him with mischief in your eyes, “I guess you will.”

Before he can even blink or think or process, you're kissing his cheek with a tenderness he hasn’t felt in years– eyes closed and big grin plastered on your face. He knows he’s blushing; the heat is crawling up his face ruthlessly.

You pull away and start to walk toward your building. He lifts a hand to his face in hopes that you left something there, evidence that you were real, evidence that what just happened wasn’t a figment of his imagination. But all he can feel is his own stubble. He hopes it didn’t hurt your lips. Maybe he should shave when he gets home.

“Call me, Joel Miller,” you shout over your shoulder, grinning brightly.

“How,” he shouts back.

“Look in your pocket!” You point to your own in emphasis.

His eyebrows pull together as he pulls the paper out of his pocket and reads it. Ten digits sitting pretty in red at the top with your name sitting on the bottom, a heart colored in with purple highlighter drawn next to it.

He goes to tell you thank you, or declare something he’s not even sure of himself, but when he looks back up to the doors of your building, you’re gone. The only evidence that you were ever real sits in his hands like a promise.

He rushes home before his mom starts to worry about where he went. He can’t wait to tell her all about you.

series masterlist | masterlist of all masterlists

[liver-f4ilure]

The Charleston Church Shooting: Dylann Roof

*NOTE! This is a repost! And it will look familiar CAUSE IVE POSTED IT ON ANOTHER ACCOUNT!! Is it the best? No.*

—

Early life/ Prior convictions

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abuse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

(The Roofs home)

In 2015 he was caught with an invalid prescription for suboxone at a mall to which he was banned from for a year. Later that year he was caught loitering in the mall to which they searched his car finding a forearm grip for a AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and six unloaded magazines capable of holding 40 rounds each but was let off it was legal in the state. Roofs Suboxone charge was mishandled and a system error took it as a misdemeanour instead of a felony. Which would have possibly prohibited him from purchasing the firearm.

(The flag of Rhodesia)

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supremacy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

The shooting

(The Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church)

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Glock 41 .45 calibre handgun and began shooting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then shot and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna shoot myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gun on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gunman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

(The victims)

The Trial

Five days after the shooting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts murder using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the death penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of death penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d shoot the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and Glock that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

(Roof at his video hearing)

January 10th 2017 Roof was sentenced to the death penalty,death by lethal injection.

[lovl3igh]

"they made greens worse in show to push blacks agenda" "they made blacks worse in show to push green agenda" truth is they made daemon and viserys worse and greens are now arouse sympathy and rhaenyra is made more soft and all that destroys mostly female characters and is for more drama and to push whole tg vs tb thing for bigger marketing while saying that's not what we supposed to do (season 1)

and yes, greens are worse in the books, making alicent innocent in the beginning and stating murder of luke as accident was to make them look better. and yes daemon was more "grey" character in the book, while in show almost every scene who was supposed to make him look like good father, husband or just vulnarable guy was cut out or belittled, his relationships make him look like bad guy - killing rhea, admitting to not fully loving laena, abusing nyra - instead of book!daemon who is against everyone but his family (except of green side), there's show!daemon who goes against his family or ignore its' members. and yes there are things when the greens are shown worse than in the books and black better than they were written

but changing ages of characters harms team black only. and since there's many changes of those and that's of many important characters it DOES make team black look worse and makes team green victims

1. alicent instead of being adult woman going against little girl (alicent 18yo and rhaenyra only 9) is now teenager sexually abused by viserys who is even older than her in the show than in f&b. being rhaenyra's peer - and her former friend - also changes the dynamic because now people claim rhaenyra caused break up of their friendship as if she wasn't just suffering 14yo. no, alicent is no more adult woman climbing for power and acting against child, it's a teenager abondoned by her best friend after being force into relationship with much older guy

2. jace, luke and dragon twins aged up - now in book it was 10yo aemond who attacked 3yo joffrey and then fought 4yo luke and 5yo jace*. in the show 11yo (according to s2 timeline) aemond is fighting four kids in the age from 8 to 10. so he doesn't attacks children at least 2x younger than him but is jumped by almost his peers. poor aemond, right?

*before someone say "jace was 6 and luke 5" - jace was born in late 114 AC and luke in late 115, meanwhile laena died at the beggining of 120 AC, which makes them 5 and 4 years old respectively

3. we don't have actual age of twins but looking at actors' ages, jaehaerys and jaehaera were 4, maybe 5 years old, tho in s1 they looked like toddlers. now it's not a big book to show change, 6 to 4yo, but it still look kinda worse to murder boy who barely stopped being a toddler than 6yo

4. daemon fell in love with laena when she was 22 (!!!). she wasn't a teenager. she wasn't also 12yo when offered by her parents to viserys. making her younger in the show made daemon, corlys and rhaenys look worse than in f&b (the only person who looked "better" - there's no good word for that i'm afraid - in that situation was viserys, who decided to marry 15yo and not 12yo. good for you, pedo?)

5. joffrey being 6yo with baby dragon makes rhaenyra look worse and like an oathbreaker. sending baby dragons to the vale instead of dragon who can at very least carry his rider doesn't look cool even though was funny for a second, because she technically didn't break her word, she DID send a dragon, even two, but that was a loophole

6. not exactly the same but - fabien frankel and matt smith' casting. i'm not saying they don't play their characters well or anything. that's not the point. the point is that fabien was born in 1994, matt smith in 1982 and milly alcock in 2000. there's 12 years age difference between fabien and matt but between cole and daemon is supposed to be only a year. now daemon is still called a groomer and cole is not because he is played by a guy only 6 years older than milly. and there are also people who now call him a victim and not rhaenyra

so yeah, i don't really wanna see anymore how much blacks look better in the show than in the book and greens worse... because that's not true. yeah, there are things done that make tb look a bit better but the show started with making the greens victims they weren't at all in the book and a lot of that has to do with ages changing

[ricciardoracing]

when we were young - CS55

carlos sainz x oc!engineer!character

summary: carlos and sasha were carlos and sasha since birth. but what’s going to happen when he leaves ferrari?

warnings + fc: some translated spanish, 90s timeline totally forgotten and different, isabel slander (i love her im sorry). nicola peltz and gigi hadid

september 1st, 2019

Madrid, Spain

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sashaivanova feliz cumpleaños para el mejor amigo y persona (y conductor) del mundo entero, gracias por ser parte de mi vida desde siempre. te quiero más de lo que las palabras pueden describir.

(happy birthday for the best friend and person (and driver) in the whole world, thanks for being part of my life since forever. i love you more than words can describe.)

tagged: @/carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 mi princesa, no te merezco y nunca lo haré, pero con gusto seré egoísta y te mantendré conmigo para siempre. te amo ❤️ (my princess, i don't deserve you and never will, but i will gladly be selfish and keep you with me forever. i love you ❤️)

charles_leclerc happy birthday mate! @/carlossainz55

landonorris happy birthday muppet @/carlossainz55 ! grateful for having you as teammate ❤️

ivanivanov57 happy birthday son!

isahernaez happy birthday to my love!

user1 anyone else think it’s funny how isabel don’t even follow sasha nor even LIKED the post and yet she’s here commenting

user2 ugh I KNOW “my love”???? okay girl we know he’s yours you don’t have to make a scene

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Back in 92’, when Carlos Sainz was winning his first Rally championship, Ivan Ivanov, a 20-year-old rising star for Scuderia Ferrari, formed a close bond with the rally driver and his family, including his wife Reyes and daughter Blanca. Ivan introduced his girlfriend, 17-year-old model Mariya Orlova, and their relationships flourished.

In 1994, Reyes became pregnant and asked Mariya to be the godmother. Mariya supported Reyes through her pregnancy, and in September, Carlos Sainz Jr. was born. The following year, Mariya became pregnant, with Reyes and Carlos Sr. as the godparents. Reyes and her son frequently visited Mariya during her pregnancy. On September 10th, 1995, Mariya gave birth to Aleksandra Ivanova. From their first meeting as babies, it seemed destined that Carlos Jr. and Aleksandra would one day be together.

As the years passed, Aleksandra “Sasha” Ivanova, a child prodigy, entered mechanical engineering college at 16, in Oxford. In 2015, she became the racing engineer for four-time F1 champion Sebastian Vettel at Scuderia Ferrari, forming a highly successful partnership despite skepticism over her age.

In October 2019, her father, four-time F1 champion Ivan Ivanov, passed away unexpectedly, prompting his daughter Sasha and his godson Carlos Sainz Jr. to miss a race weekend, drawing media attention. Following the loss, Carlos grew distant from his girlfriend, Isabel, and became closer to Sasha, with whom he shared an apartment in Monaco. In October 2020, Carlos ended his relationship with Isabel.

september 10th, 2020

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carlossainz55 happy birthday to my other half and soulmate. i thank my dad every single day for being friends with yours and making us get to grow up together. here’s to many more birthdays together! te quiero mucho, mi princesita.

tagged: @/sashaivanova

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During the pandemic, the tension between Carlos and Sasha grew so overwhelming that their relationship became strained. One evening, Sasha walked barefoot around the apartment with another bottle of wine closed, the McLaren merch with a huge '55' in front being so big that it was used as a dress, her hair half tied up and her face very red. She sat on the couch with her legs on the Spaniard's lap, opening the bottle and taking a big sip. "You know, I was thinking," she began to speak, her voice a little shaky from the drink. "Have you ever thought about what would have happened if we had stayed together?". Carlos looked at her with his puppy eyes and approached her, his hands, which were resting on the couch, touching each other.

"I think about it every day, Sash. You're my best friend." Carlos' voice trembled a little, but it wasn't because of the drink. He got closer, his eyes almost apologizing to her.

Sasha tilted her head to the side a little confused, her hand moving to touch the Spaniard's forehead, "Is everything okay?" She questioned him, worried. Without further words, he closed the gap between them, pulling her for a kiss that was nothing like the fun night they were sharing moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, full of the intensity of everything that had been accumulating between them for years. Sasha froze for a second, surprised by how quickly it was, but then she melted in him, her hands squeezing his face while kissing him back with equal fervor. The heat of the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed together, the wine now forgotten.

That night, Carlos and Sasha's relationship went from 'best friends and confidants' to 'best friends, confidants and sweethearts'.

When Ferrari hired Carlos, the first thing they did was inform their love relationship. Fortunately, the team was very receptive and they lived three seasons (and three years) very happily. Until February 2024.

The announcement of Lewis' hiring and Carlos' dismissal was a thud for Sasha. Of course, she would love to work with Lewis, but Carlos was her pilot. He was everything she ever wanted in a pilot and she wouldn't give up on him. Scuderia Ferrari offered her a contract renewal, 5 more years, another jackpot of millions of euros. But Sasha wasn't sure if she should accept, she wasn't sure how that would leave her with Carlos.

After Carlos announced that he signed a contract with Williams, the British team went after Sasha. Of course they would, the Russian girl was brilliant. Absurdly brilliant. But she backed down, not sure if she should refuse Williams' offer and renew with Ferrari.

During the summer break, Carlos was feeling down. He flew back to Madrid, knowing that she would go there as soon as she visited her mother in Monaco. He kept rominating on his thoughts, feeling more and more useless. He would never be enough. Not for Ferrari, not for the Formula world, not for Sasha. Lost in thoughts, he didn't remember that that would be the day she would return to their house.

She entered the house silently, feeling something seemed wrong the moment she came in. The air was heavy, the kind of silence that was restless in his chest. He barely noticed when Sasha entered, very stuck in the spiral of his thoughts.

Sasha was beautiful, brilliant - he thought - everything he dreamed of, but never really believed he deserved it. And just like the team, she had a choice. There would always be someone better, someone who could love her more.

"Carlos?" Her voice broke his thoughts, soft but firm, pulling his gaze to her.

“Hi, cariño, you came home early.” He forced a smile, but seemed fragile, ready to collapse under the weight of everything he couldn't say.

Sasha got closer to him, her footsteps now muffled by the carpet. Her chest tightened when she knelt in front of him, her eyes examining his face with a kind of tenderness that he didn't feel he deserved at that moment. "¿Qué ha ocurrido? ¿Qué está pasando?"

Her voice came out low as she asked, his body shivering from her Russian accent in that rusty Spanish.

"Nothing," he said quickly, the sound empty and shallow. “I’m fine, really. Thanks for asking, mi cielo.”

"Amor," she pressed, her voice firmer this time. Her hand rested slightly on his knee, grounding him in a way that calmed and terrified him. "Please talk to me."

He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fell on her hand on his knee, her thumb gently brushing against the fabric of his jeans, and his chest hurt.

"It’s just…," he finally murmured, his voice low, almost resigned. He shrugged his shoulders, his lips pressing on a thin line as his thoughts turned. "I’m not feeling good enough for anything today. Ferrari dropped me for Hamilton, I signed with a horrible team… And there’s you."

"Me?," Sasha said softly, her fingers squeezing a little on his knee. He still didn't look at her, and that only made his heart hurt more. "What about me? I always thought you were enough, mi vida."

Without thinking, she reached out, touching his face gently, but firmly enough to force him to look at you. His eyes were cloudy, carried by a storm of emotions that Sasha could barely stand. “Carlos, look at me. Her voice came out firm, almost a plea. He blinked, surprised, as if he didn't expect that determination. "There is no way in hell I’d choose anyone else but you.." The words came out clear, unshakable, loaded with a truth that he seemed reluctant to accept.

Sasha sighed, moving her thumb gently against his cheek. "It was always you for me. I love you, Carlos. Only you."

Carlos didn't hesitate anymore. He pulled her to his lap, holding her waist as if he was afraid of losing her. His forehead touched hers, the breaths mixing, and for a moment everything around disappeared.

Sasha didn't let him say a thing. She couldn't. Instead, she leaned over, silencing him with a kiss. It wasn't soft or temporary - it was all Sasha felt for him, all the love and devotion that the blonde couldn't put into words. Her hands cupped his face, holding it tight while her lips moved against his, spilling everything she had at that single moment.

After they felt the need to breath, Carlos told Sasha every single thing he was feeling. How useless he felt leaving Ferrari, how undeserving of her love he felt, how much of a disappointment he felt he was. Sasha spent the whole night reassuring him of his fears.

He went to bed early, wanting to rest, while she was still on the couch, her laptop on her lap and her hands working violently against the keyboard. That night, Sasha decided that even if her engineering career went down the drain, she would follow him wherever he went. The next day, she called James Vowles, informing him that he could announce her hiring. For the same period of time that Carlos stayed.

In the last race of 2024, as soon as Carlos won a well-deserved P2 in Abu Dhabi, he ran to the barrier where the team was, his eyes desperate until he found Sasha. When he found her, he ran to her, hugging and kissing her, pulling her through the barrier and getting her in front of him. "Proud?" He asked, his voice hoarse from yelling so much at her and the team on the radio.

Sasha left her hands caressing the back of his neck, a smile bigger than the world stamping her beautiful face. "I love you so much, mi vida. I'm so proud, you deserve so much. We're going to rock Williams next year."

Carlos let out a muffled laugh, his hands letting go of her body and taking something in his pocket, a black velvet box, and kneeling. "I don't want to spend another day having to listen to someone calling you 'Miss Ivanova'. Marry me, mi reina. Today, if you want. Please. Let me make you happy forever."

That same night, with Max Verstappen and Lando Norris as witnesses of the marriage and Carlos Sr. delivering her in marriage, as a tribute to her father and his late best friend, Aleksandra Maria Ivanova became Aleksandra Maria Ivanova-Sainz.

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carlossainz55 happy to call you mrs. sainz for the rest of our lives. gracias por nunca renunciar a mí y amarme, la amo, sra. sainz. (thank you for never giving me up and loving me, i love you mrs. sainz)

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lando thank you for letting me be a part of this! i love you both so much 🤍

sashaivanova we love you landinho! thank you for being you

carlossainz55 greatest best man of all time!

maxverstappen1 i love you, big sis @/sashaivanova. tell this dickhead spaniard i’m watching him.

sashaivanova will do, maxie pooh! i love you ❤️ thank you and kelly (and baby p) for coming

carlossainz55 love you too, mate!

danielricciardo happy for you guys! thanks for letting me be a part of it liked by author

charles_leclerc so, so, so happy for you! alex is asking if you liked the present…?

sashaivanova we LOVED it! and i love her

In January 2025, Carlos announced that he and his wife, Sasha Sainz, were expecting their first child, expected to be born in June.

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carlossainz55 bebé sainz, junio de 2025. gracias por hacer realidad mis sueños, sra. sainz

(baby sainz, june 2025. thank you for making my dreams come true, mrs. sainz)

sashaivanova ¡te quiero más de lo que las palabras pueden describir! gracias por darme todo lo que quería. (i love you more than words can describe! thanks for giving me everything i wanted.)

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In the 2025 season, Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro, after turning Williams Racing into the strongest team in Formula 1, won his first world championship, with his racing engineer and wife, Aleksandra Maria Sainz by his side.

· · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ:✧ · · · · ✧ ･ﾟ· ✧ · · ✧

lauren’s radio: guys IM SO SORRY for the late fic, i planned on posting earlier but things been kinda busy. ANYWAY, tell me your thoughts on it and if you guys want to see more of carlos and sasha! love you all

[idontliekmondays]

the halifax mass shooting plot or der untergang

what was this? who planned it? where?

the halifax mass shooting plot was the idea that lindsay souvannarath, james gamble, and randall ’randy’ shepherd came up with to commit a mass shooting at a shopping centre in halifax, nova scotia, on valentine’s day.

more on who

lindsay souvannarath was 23 years old when she was arrested. she was born in chicago, illinois, on january 9, 1992, and lived there up until the time of the planned shooting. she pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced to life in prison with no chance of parole. she’s still serving her sentence, and her most recent request for appeal in 2019 was denied.

james gamble was 19 years old at the time of his death on february 12, 2015. he was born in halifax, nova scotia, on august 6, 1995. there doesn’t seem to be much information available about what was done with his remains after death.

randall ‘randy’ shepherd was 20 years old when he was arrested on february 13. he was born in victoria, british columbia, on july 4, 1994. shortly after his birth, he and his family moved to halifax, nova scotia. he pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced to 10 years in jail. he was released due to statutory release in 2021 after serving seven years and four months; however, he was ordered to stay off the internet and was to live in a halfway house in nova scotia.

how did randy and james meet?

both randy and james attended a high school located a short distance outside of halifax, which is where “they met and bonded over metal music, horror movies, marijuana, and a shared fascination with death and morbidity, often focusing on school shootings and mass murders.”

both were described as having increasing mental struggles following up to the incident.

as time passed, james considered committing a mass killing in halifax. he asked randy to be his partner in crime, who refused but continued to be a willing audience to his ideas.

how did lindsay meet them? what was her relationship with james like?

on december of 2014, james began to follow lindsay because of a “justgirlythings” meme she had posted onto her tumblr. it was captioned “not being able to live without your best friend” and was edited to have the columbine library photo underneath. they started messaging on facebook after this and formed a friendship quickly.

court documents state lindsay and james would repeatedly claim that they were adopting the personas of eric harris and dylan klebold, respectively. lindsay even said she felt the spirit of eric harris was taking over her body at times. they would refer to each other as reb and vodka and often speak of going “nbk” and quote passages to each other from the journals of the columbine shooters.

they also had a similar taste in music and lindsay introduced him to national socialist black metal.

their friendship blossomed into something more sexual that included sending nudes and sexting as they began to plan the shooting and then into something romantic as james began to show a lot of affection and attachment.

they expressed that they believed they were fated to each other and that their destiny was to commit this massacre and to die together. they “just felt like their relationship was destiny.”

the preparation

one of the first things they did was start thinking of possible locations. lindsay left most of that up to james. he came up with various ideas, such as a hospital, a library, and an elementary school, all of which lindsay disagreed with because she thought they would send the wrong message.

one location she ended up agreeing to was a mall.

“it was kind of this symbolism of western decadence and the modern world in general. just the idea of this place where people go to consume. it seemed like it would be a protest against capitalism, against consumerism, against greed.”

“i believe it was the film dawn of the dead that had zombies attacking the shopping mall, and it was supposed to be like this metaphor for our modern society and how obsessed with consumption it is. so i thought that would be perfect.”

in february of 2015, james and randy went to the halifax shopping centre and filmed videos of where the shooting was planned to happen. these were referred to as their “basement tapes.”

in one of these videos, they discussed how the temporary walls in the food court might block some of the shots, and randy stated that if at least one person from his high school was killed, the attack would be worth it. in another one of these, james calmly stares into the camera and says, “you're lucky i couldn’t get any more bullets.”

the plan

the mass shooting was to take place on valentines day, february 14, at the halifax shopping centre food court. the shopping centre was chosen with the intention to cause “mass panic.” (the date of the shooting was switched due to price increases on tickets. the original date was february 1st. james had the idea to change the date to valentines day because there would be more people in the food court and the time and he believed it would be more shocking.)

lindsay would travel by air to halifax to meet james on february 13.

james was to shoot both of his parents before lindsay arrived.

they would both then spend the night together in the gamble residence.

randy hoped to be shot and killed by james the same evening as a form of assisted suicide. (lindsay was not involved with this part of the plan). james wanted randy to make a video recording of the shooting instead of committing suicide.

the next day they would begin the shooting in the food court, which was the area they believed would provide them the most cover.

they were going to go into the food court bathrooms, change outfits, get their weapons and come out and open fire.

they were going to start the shooting by throwing molotov cocktails into the food court. (randy was to provide six bottles for the molotov cocktails.)

james was to arm himself with his father’s lever-action hunting rifle along with a hunting knife.

lindsay would be armed with his father’s single-action 16-gauge shotgun.

each was to wear previously selected death outfits that, in many ways, were chosen to pay tribute to the columbine shooters.

they wanted to shoot as many people as their ammunition allowed.

they were going to save their last bullets for themselves and “just like columbine” they would kneel facing each other and shoot themselves on the count of three.

what actually happened

the morning of feburary 12, 2015, lindsay snuck out of her family home and began the trip to halifax. she described herself as “very eager, very excited, very very thrilled to be leaving home.”

james then faltered in his plans to murder his parents and sent lindsay a facebook message that read, “i’m going to have to wait until tomorrow to kill them” and “you’ll have to stay at randy’s for the night.”

the same day of february 12, crime stoppers received an anonymous tip. a summary of the tip is as follows:

two people are posting on social media sites that they plan to shoot up the mall in halifax, nova scotia.

the two people are obsessed with school shootings.

a female is to leave chicago on a delta airlines flight to meet up with a male who has weapons for them to use.

the female is asian, known as lindsay, last name unknown but begins with “s”, she is approximately twenty-three years old, born 01-16-92 and is 5’3’’ tall and weighs 90lbs. lindsay has black shoulder length hair, which is dyed red right now and she wears brown framed glasses;

lindsay is friends with the male, james gamble;

lindsay has multiple social media accounts such as a facebook under the name “lindsay shubniggurath”, a tumblr account under the name “cockswastika”, and skype account under the name “thenewheresy”.

the male is james gamble, white male, nineteen years old, born 08-06-95, and is described as very skinny with dark brown hair parted to one side;

james gamble lives in halifax, nova scotia;

the anonymous source has not met james gamble in person;

james gamble is lindsay’s friend from online;

james has several social media accounts such as a facebook account under the name “james gamble” and a tumblr account under the name “shallowexistences”.

the canadian border services agency was contacted and issued a lookout to their agents to identify anyone who might match the description of the female.

soon officers arrived at the gamble residence in timberlea, nova scotia. james was contacted by telephone and suggested to exit the residence, which he agreed to do. instead, he committed suicide by shooting himself in the head with a single bullet from his father’s hunting rifle.

as previously agreed on, shepherd arrived at the stanfield international airport by city bus to pick up lindsay. he messaged lindsay and reiterated that james was behind on schedule killing his parents and that she would have to stay with him for the night.

lindsay landed in halifax at midnight, february 13th. at 12:10am she presented herself to primary immigration and spoke to a CBSA agent. the national lookout did not raise a flag at the time.

the CBSA agent was concerned by lindsay regardless. she communicated to him that she flew to canada on a one way ticket, had only $33, and did not know where her boyfriend lived. the agent thought that she may have been attempting to bring drugs into canada and noted that “she had very bad teeth and her complexion was very bad with scars on her face. this made me think that she may be on drugs.”

the agent directed lindsay to a secondary immigration examination as well as a secondary customs inspection.

she was questioned at secondary immigration by an agent. the agent questioned lindsay and confirmed that she didn’t know where she was going, had a small amount of money, and did not have a return ticket. lindsay communicated that she was in halifax to have a “memorable” valentine’s day weekend with her boyfriend who she had previously met online. she further communicated that randy was at the airport to pick her up, which was confirmed by CBSA officials.

the contents of her luggage were searched. she had little with her, aside from some makeup, her death outfit, and two books on serial killers.

while she was being dealt with by agents, officials reviewed the national lookout and determined that lindsay may be the person of interest.

police soon arrived at the airport and quickly arrested both randy and lindsay.

their online trail

they left a steady trail of posts referencing the planned shooting. there was a playlist posted on lindsay's tumblr blog to “cement the aesthetic” along with countless other posts hinting towards their plan. lindsay also queued her manifesto to post on her blog after the shooting.

my main source

[sylvyspritart]

Rest in peace Hieda no Akyuu According to Touhou lore, Hieda no Akyuu cannot become older than 30 She was canonically born in 1994, so now in 2024, 30 years have passed