#franklin avenue

[agentcaboose]

Day 3: ... and they were roommates

Me and Michael (MGMT) - washboose

welcome back to the midwest emo Blood Gulch Avenue AU

some tags: washboose, onesided cabnut (donut x caboose), side grimmons, endgame chucker, some angst, system epsilon

disclaimer: still super disjointed, I'm working on timel line and relationship stuff, it's a little messy, but they are all messy twenty-somethings, (eventually I'll release full tracks and who wrote what songs and about who, I promise)

(tw: canon typical character death and mental illness)

Michael and David meet at a funeral. David had just lost his best friend, Connie, and Michael is about to lose his to grief. Caboose isn't the best drummer in Blood Gulch, but he enjoys the sound and the repetitive movements. Wash is trying to reconnect with music after losing the one person he felt comfortable making music with passes. When Church leaves Violets Are Blue, and Tucker is forced to seek out a new guitarist, he remembers that other guy who played at Tex's funeral.

They suck together. Like really suck. They can't practice in Church's garage anymore, which lands them in the shitty community center basement. Caboose has a friend at the center that is teaching him acoustic guitar, and they write songs together. His friend, Donut (Wash swears that can't possibly be his name), also drives Caboose around after the big guy got his license suspended. Wash offers to take up some of the carpool duties since he doesn't live too far from where Caboose works.

At the center, Caboose's drumming is too loud, Tucker blows out his amp, and Wash has never touched an electric before in his life. Grif overhears the monstrosity that the Blues have become and begrudgingly invite them to his garage to practice. Donut has been filling in for Simmons after a big Grimmons fight, momentarily disbanding Red Riot. Donut and Caboose play a few of their songs for the group, the songs remind Grif of Simmons, Tucker thinks about Church, and Wash can't help but feel like Caboose is only playing to him. No one notices how Donut seems to only be singing to Caboose.

Wash writes a song for the first time since Connie passed. He sings this to the group, and Donut clocks him immediately. Later, Donut has a heart to heart with Wash about how different Caboose is. How he doesn't have a good memory, he doesn't understand a lot of basic concepts, how he seems to be in his own little world, and how Caboose wasn't always life this. Donut confesses that he has loved Michael for a very long time, since they were grade school kids. Then, Michael was in a bad accident that cut of oxygen to his brain. He deteriated quickly into someone Donut didn't recognize. Yes, he was still Caboose, but not his Michael. "He can be your Michael now."

Me and Michael, solid as they come.

Time passes, and they become The Reds And Blues. Grimmons is together, Church is back, but not the same, Wash reunites with Carolina who he hadn't seen since basic, and Caboose is, well, he's Caboose. He has a new dog he found on the street, he has his best friend back, and he gets to make music with more people. Caboose follows Wash around now that he's being super nice to him. They even play acoustic together! Caboose one day decides to share a song that reminds him of Wash. He doesn't remember where he heard it, but he asks Wash to help him finish it. They play this for The Reds And Blues. Donut leaves the band that night.

All I want is you, will you stay with me? Hold me in your arms and sway me like a sea.

Okay, I think I have to stop writing or I won't post this before midnight ^^" I love this AU so dearly,,, I wish I could actually, ya know, write it.

[wanderingnewyork]

From 2017: The #Franklin_Avenue_Station on the #Franklin_Shuttle, #Brooklyn.

[blakonbothsides]

Crazy ass Crooklyn kids

[djbcadventures]

National Take A Walk in the Park Day

Happy National Take A Walk In the Park Day! Here are some of our local Central Ohio faves!

🏕🎠🛝🎡⛲️🌲🪴💐🌹🪷🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌲🌲

[travelella]

Avenue Franklin Roosevelt, Vincennes, France

Robin Ooode

[vermiculuslotos]

Cupcakes On Franklin Avenue in Brooklyn

[mrneedle]

Cupcakes On Franklin Avenue in Brooklyn

[newyorkthegoldenage]

These folks look suitably grim as they listen to the election returns at the temporary "wigwam" in the 7th Avenue Armory on November 6, 1928. Governor Alfred E. Smith, the Democratic candidate for president, is seated in the second row, third from the left. He lost to Herbert Hoover by 17 percentage points. Franklin D. Roosevelt, the (successful) candidate to succeed Smith as New York governor, is in the first row, third from the left.

Photo: Associated Press

[prickly-paprikash]

There are two ways I see that SpyxFamily can go with the Authens.

Ever since we've been introduced to the world of SxF, last names have always been an indicator of who exactly it is we're dealing with.

The Forgers are literally a Forged Family. No-brainer.

Yor and Yuri Briar: both beautiful people but with sharp thorns to protect themselves and one another. Their coloring and their characters are related to Roses and Yor is literally Thorn Princess.

Fiona Frost: Ice Cold. Frosty Exterior. Snow Queen. Warm and melty and obsessed on the inside.

Franky Franklin: Frank, honest and blunt. He's always up-front with Twilight since the beginning. Franklin also comes from the word francos meaning 'free'. He's a free agent, allied with Twilight but not with WISE, since he is an Ostanian. He's also the first true free-thinker, holding no allegiance to any state but cares genuinely for the people around him.

The Desmonds: meaning South Munster, one of the provinces of Munster. While it doesn't necessarily have a defined meaning, it is said that the lucky number of this name is 11, and Damian is ranked 11th amongst 228 students for the exams. Neat.

So Authens, right? Sigmund and Barbara Authen. If Loid, Yor, Anya and Bond are a forged family, then Siggy and Barbs are an authentic one from the getgo. Ever since the introduction of these two, everyone has both been over-the-moon and skeptical. It's nice to add new members to the family in this show. It's nice to see a foil (and an insight into the future for them) to Yor and Loid, where the elderly couple are genuine in their love, while Twilight and Thorn Princess still struggle with what exactly their fake relationship entails. Sigmund and Barbara trust one another completely, while the Spy and the Assassin still have ways to go on that front.

Now, Anya is being tutored by Sigmund, a former University Professor, Lecturer and Neurologist. Similar to Loid in a way, who moonlights as a Psychiatrist. The Authens aren't just being shown as a "what could be" for Loid and Yor as a couple, but as parents and mentors as well as seen in this chapter.

Both Loid and Sigmund get into Spy Wars for the sake of educating their students. The difference however lies in the way they go about it.

Loid reads and watches the entirety of Spy Wars to show that he is a good father with a pulse on what his daughter likes, as well as an avenue for him to teach Anya since she responds well to the show. But Loid only memorizes the show and tries to brute force (relatively speaking) Anya's education with it.

Like... making a fake episode of the show just to try and make Anya interested in her studies.

Sigmund on the other hand really sparks a love and understanding for the material itself.

Loid tries to force Anya to see the value in education through cold logic and goal-oriented thinking. Anya should study to Prevent War from erupting between Ostania and Westalis. Sigmund guides Anya into seeing the worth of education by itself. The joys in learning for learning's sake. Loid tries a surface level approach, where Bondman's adventures are hamfisted edu-tainment. He thinks that since Anya likes Bondman, she'll be tricked into learning by using Spy Wars as a coat of paint to mask a really boring lecture.

Sigmud correctly identifies what Anya loves about the story itself, and then uses those elements to relate to classical language.

Loid and Yor are committed to their duties, but it doesn't necessarily bring them joy. To keep children safe and happy, Twilight will lie and Thorn Princess will kill, but their personal satisfaction isn't something they bother about. Sigmund, on the other hand loved his job. He loves teaching. He loves the altruistic element to it—cultivating minds, helping them along to their full potential, but he also has a personal joy in teaching.

Another thing is that Loid loves his family, but doesn't know he does and can't spit it out. He can come off stoic and cold. Sigmund readily shows his appreciation for his wife and for his new student Anya.

What troubles me now is what happens next.

Authen does mean authentic. I have no doubt that Sigmund authentically loves his wife. His love for his research is also authentic. His passion for teaching is authentic. His admiration for Anya is authentic.

But what's the context of this authenticity?

See, the first route is that Sigmund really is just a good guy. A simple, kind, brilliant man who probably had a hand in building Project Apple from the ground up with the goal of improving people's minds, starting with dogs. Maybe it was co-opted by corrupt officials, twisting it into a monstrous organization willing to harm children and animals to realize their goals for a powerful human weapon. A weapon that became Anya Forger. Sigmund and Barbara leave, aid in the war effort for civilians and victims, and make a life for themselves in Berlint. I do believe this might be the likelier option.

But what if the contrast between the Forgers and the Authens is taken to the extreme?

The second route takes advantage of the inherent and subtle darkness in SpyxFam. This manga is just a bundle of gooey joy, but that happiness successfully hides the brutal truth of the world. Every character in this show is touched by war.

Anya and Bond are intended as living weapons. We tend to forget about this since Anya is a goblin child and Bond is floofy goofball.

Twilight and Yor are orphans of war, turned into the most powerful soldiers on each side. We forget this since both are idiots when it comes to anything each other and their family.

Handler is a level-headed badass who radiates older sister vibes for everyone who works under her, and she genuinely cares for her agents. She's also a depressed wreck who barely functions outside of work and constantly relives the loss of her husband and daughter.

The Blackbells? Posh rich folk, right? But their money comes from warmongering. Martha, the kindly mother-figure/butler/security for Becky? A veteran of war. The seamstress who is fond of Yor? Most likely an anti-authoritarian activist, since Loid clocked her immediately as being arrested for political activity. Maybe a former Red Circus member. Bazooka Bill? Funny kid who hit puberty way too early and has a hilarious deep voice. He's also being groomed to be a venerated soldier at the age of six by his father, who has most likely committed war crimes.

SpyxFamily is genuine in its joyful moments. But it barely hides the darkness that constantly lingers. War is a shadow that haunts these bright pages, and it always recontextualizes the zany adventures our family goes on.

What if the Authens are like that?

Everything about them is authentic. But they're also twisted. An authentic love for neuro science can lead to an obsessive march towards human weaponry. An authentic desire for world peace can mean that the end justifies the means, even if that means a telepath that could, theoretically dominate an entire nation. An authentic love for his wife could lead him to hiding everything from her.

What if Sigmund Authen is authentic in every aspect of himself, and is still a man with a dark agenda? That would perfectly contrast Loid, a man who has faked every single element of himself down to his own name and identity, but has never once strayed from his goal of ensuring a bright future for the strangers around him?

What I'm saying is that it'd be really cool if Twilight, a living lie made human who will commit to any deception for the sake of children's safety and happiness would be heavily contrasted by Sigmund Authen, a man who lives so authentically to his creed that he is willing to put children in harm's way for the sake of World Peace?

With the upcoming chapters clearly focusing on Anya and her past, wouldn't it be cool to celebrate Spy x Family hitting 100 chapters by revealing more and more of its dark, haunting, war-torn world after more than a hundred chapters of Spy Family antics?

Uh... Anyway, here's Comedy by Gen Hoshino.

[famousinuniverse]

Église Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, Marseille, France: The Église Saint-Vincent-de-Paul is a Roman Catholic church in Marseille, France. It is located off the top of the Canebière, in the Thiers district. The exact address is 2-3 Cours Franklin Roosevelt, an avenue named for American President Franklin D. Roosevelt (1882–1945). Wikipedia

[unteriors]

E Franklin Avenue, Barron, Wisconsin.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 17 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke arrives in Crested Butte and meets some locals. Spencer has his own problems to deal with.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - drinking, brief mentions of sex, swearing, bribery, false allegations, sexual abuse. WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

You didn’t remember much about returning to the cabin last night as upon arriving back in Butte you and Spencer had indulged in one two many drinks at The Eldo before finally stumbling home well after midnight. 

Judging by the fact your body was sore and you were naked, you’d probably had sex more than once and your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes, but you felt at peace. 

Spencer stirred next to you, pulling you closer to his body and kissing your messy hair. 

“I swore I’d never drink that much again.” He grumbled. 

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.” You agreed. 

“I think that was more my fault than the alcohol. I’m fairly certain we had sex at least five times. And from memory it got pretty rough.” He pulled you even closer. 

“Worth it.” You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his chest. “I feel like shit, but I also feel on top of the fucking world.”

“Hmm, me too.” He agreed, nuzzling his face against your head. 

“Don’t get excited, I don’t think my body can handle anymore sex right now.” 

“Trust me when I say I don’t even think I have the energy to get it up.” He chuckled. 

“That is music to my ears right now.” You giggled. 

“Give it time, I’m sure there’s only so long I can lay next to a beautiful, naked woman before it happens of its own accord.” 

“Fair enough.” You giggled again. “I can handle that. But I never want to drink again in my life.” 

“Agreed.” Spencer exhaled before adding. “You know, until next time.” 

You snuggled into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and slinging one leg over his. In that moment you felt invincible. 

***

McGill’s Diner on Elk Avenue had a traffic camera positioned between the ground and first floor windows, capturing every car that passed by. It was the same camera that had witnessed the little blue Nissan purchased by Andrew Burnett in Franklin County, Virginia, drive up and down the street multiple times over the last week. 

With no better place to start, Luke parked up at the curb and headed inside. He was under strict instructions from Prentiss that he was to not treat this like a federal investigation, they had no idea what they were dealing with and they didn’t want to alert the townsfolk to FBI presence. He was simply a concerned friend. 

To stave off temptation, he left his creds in the hire vehicle he’d driven the forty minutes from Gunnison-Crested Butte Regional Airport. He did however keep his firearm visible in his holster on his hip. 

A little bell chimed above the door as he entered the diner. It was late enough that the breakfast rush was over and early enough for the lunchtime crowd not to have surfaced yet so it was reasonably quiet. There was an older couple in a booth over the back and a younger man and woman sitting at the counter. 

Luke made his way over to where a guy around your age was fixing a pot of coffee behind the counter. He looked up when he heard Luke approached and offered him a friendly smile. He wore a green flannel shirt over a black tee which had some kind of stain down it. 

“Hi there,” he put down the coffee pot and gave Luke his full attention. “Can I get you a table?” 

“No, thanks. I’m actually looking for some people. My friends, I think they might be here.” Luke dove straight in. 

“Sure, I might be able to help. Most people come through here even if they're just in town for a day or two. Our coffee is pretty good.” 

“Is this your place?” 

“No, my dads.” The man wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it towards Luke. “Jesse McGill.”

“Luke Alvez.” Luke shook his hand. “So like I said, I’m looking for my friends. Rose and Andrew Burnett. I can show you pictures if you like?” 

“No, that’s ok.” Jesse rolled his lip between his teeth. “I know them. Well, I know her better than him, never really spoken to him but I’ve seen him around.” 

“They still in town?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, I guess so. Haven’t seen them for a few days so I can’t be sure. People come and go, you know? This place is a bit of a tourist trap.” Jesse shrugged.

“A ski resort isn’t much of a tourist trap in spring time.” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse, feeling as though the man was hiding something from him. “You know where they’re staying?”

Jesse straightened his back, running a hand through his thick beard while he contemplated how to answer that. Luke could tell he knew exactly where they were staying but for whatever reason, didn’t want to share the information. He knew all it would take to get it out of him would be to flash his FBI badge, but of course Prentiss had ordered him not to.

Jesse was mulling over what you’d told him the other night about Rose not being your real name and not really being married and now a stranger had shown up looking for you, that couldn’t be good.  

Something happened and we had to leave our jobs, our homes, that’s what you’d said to him. Were you running from someone, someone like this man in front of him? He didn’t want to risk your safety or betray your trust. He didn’t get a good vibe from this Luke Alvez character.

“No, sorry I don’t.” He shrugged again. “Like I say, haven’t seen them in a few days, they may have already left town.”

Luke wasn’t buying any of this. Jesse knew exactly where you and Spencer were but he wasn’t going to tell Luke. Why, Luke didn’t know, but without his FBI creds to back him up he knew he wasn’t going to get much further. Maybe he’d reassess, call Prentiss and tell her that no one was talking to him and he needed some authority on his side. 

“Well, you also said most people come through here right? So I’ll take that table now and a cup of that coffee and I’ll wait.” Luke smiled smugly at him and subtly put his hands on his hips to draw attention to his firearm. 

Jesse glanced down at it and the fear he’d felt for your safety only doubled. What the hell kind of trouble were you in and how could he alert you to it without arousing suspicion? For now he nodded, motioning Luke towards a table and following him over with the pot of coffee. He left him alone after that but kept a watchful eye over the stranger in his diner.

Luke pulled out his phone and texted Prentiss to let her know that he’d arrived in the Butte but hadn’t had much luck yet. He sipped the coffee, which he couldn’t deny was pretty incredible and stared at the door as if it would magically open and you would stroll in. 

He was only sitting there for about a minute before a young girl with bright red hair who had been sitting at the counter slid into the booth opposite him. She had a curious look in her large green eyes as she leant on the table with her elbows.

“I know Andrew Burnett pretty well.” She cut to the chase.

“Really?” Luke cocked his eyebrow at her. 

“We hooked up a few times.” She shrugged, her words causing Luke to pull a face.

“You and S…Andrew?” 

“Yep.” 

“How old are you?” Luke’s brow furrowed heavily, thinking there was no way Spencer would sleep with this girl. 

“Twenty seven.” She sat straight and puffed out her chest but Luke’s disbelieving look caused her to huff. “Fine, I’m twenty two.” 

“Yeah, uh, no offence but I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep with a twenty two year old.” Luke clucked. 

“Well, he did. More than once.” She smirked smugly. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything because of his little wifey, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.” 

“Wifey as in Rose?” 

“Uh huh, between you and me she seems kinda like a stick in the mud.” 

“That stick in the mud is my friend.” Luke scowled at her. 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s no better. She might be boring but he has some anger issues.” She picked at one of her nails.

“Anger issues?” Luke frowned, it wasn’t the first time someone had inferred that about Spencer recently.

“Yep. I think he controls Rose, she always seems a little timid round him. And then there was the time he practically threw me against a wall.” 

“He…are you sure?” Luke was frowning so hard he felt a headache pinching at his temples. 

“Yeah that’s not the kind of thing you forget. He couldn’t keep it up, tried to blame me for it. So I told him he probably couldn’t keep it up because he was old…no offence.” 

“None taken.” Luke pulled a face.

“Anyway so he just freaks, gets me up against the wall and yells in my face and I swear he’s going to hurt me.” She finished with a shake of her head.

“Did he?” 

“No, but I think he wanted to.” 

Luke pulled out his phone and got up a photograph of Spencer which he turned to show the girl. 

“Is this the man you’re talking about?” 

“Yep, that’s him.” She nodded. “You say you know him, you must know what he’s like.” 

“Yeah, see that’s the thing, I don’t know him to be an angry or violent man. So what I’m wondering is maybe you had a little crush on him and he rebuffed you and so you’re making up stories to tarnish him and make yourself feel better.” Luke picked up the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m not five.” She spat. “I know what happened. I was just trying to help but if you don’t need-”

“Ok, Mary, that’s enough now.” She was cut off by a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Jesse standing over her. “You can leave now.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, sliding out of the booth and sulking away. Jesse soon took her place, sitting down opposite Luke and exhaling through his nose.

“Look, I don’t make a habit of agreeing with her, but I think she might be telling you the truth.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Rose told me something bad happened to them and that she had get away and when you strolled in here looking for them, I thought maybe you were the something bad, you know?” 

Luke nodded slowly, sitting forward in his seat. 

“But you don’t think so now?” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse. 

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “You’re a cop right? Shoulda noticed that before, you scream law enforcement.”

“FBI.” Luke whispered so no one else would hear. “I’m not here on official capacity though, I worked with Y/N and Spencer, they’re my friends and I really am just trying to find them.” 

“Y/N and Spencer?” Jesse frowned. “She told me Rose wasn’t her real name but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. They’re FBI?” 

“They were, until a while ago when they just skipped down.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he shouldn’t be telling Jesse any of this. “You said you thought that kid was telling the truth? Why?” 

Jesse exhaled again, looking sceptically at Luke as though he still wasn’t sure he trusted him. He ran his fingers through his beard and pulled a face that Luke couldn’t place.

“When I first met Rose…Y/N, she told me her “husband” was a drunken bully. I got the impression she was scared of him. I asked her if he hurt her and she said no but she did say that he had a temper. He’s a skinny dude but there’s something about him that makes me think he wouldn’t hesitate in kicking someone’s ass. He doesn’t strike me as stable, if that makes sense.” Jesse looked uncomfortable sharing this information, like he was betraying you in doing so.

“It makes absolutely zero sense, but if you knew Spencer Reid, it wouldn't make sense to you either.” Luke shook his head.

“I’m scared for her.” Jesse admitted, leaning on the table and lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “They’re staying on Gothic Avenue, big cabin right at the end. Come out of here and go straight up 4th, take the second right onto Gothic. Keep going for about a half mile and it's the big one on the corner right before the large rec.” 

“You did the right thing.” Luke smiled at him, reaching into his pocket and subtly sliding his card across the table which Jesse quickly took. “If you see either of them, please call me.”

“Sure.” Jesse nodded, soon sliding out of his chair and walking away.

Luke downed the rest of the coffee and got to his feet, making quick work of getting outside and back into his hired car and following Jesse’s instructions, drove towards the Gothic Avenue cabin. 

But he wasn’t the only one on that particular mission and he didn’t notice the redhead following him outside and heading the same way on foot. 

***

It was just before lunch time, after some extremely lazy sex that you finally dragged yourself out of bed, your hunger getting the better of you. But you soon came to find the cupboards were empty. 

Spencer bribed you with sexual favours you probably would have gotten anyway, to go down to Scout’s as he physically couldn’t prise himself away from the bed. Reluctantly you’d agreed, taking a quick shower to wash the stench of sex off of you before dressing and heading outside. 

You got about a third of the way down Gothic Avenue when you suddenly felt as though you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention and you felt something was wrong in your gut. You picked up your pace, partially wishing you’d had the forethought to bring the Colt with you. 

Just before you made it to 4th Street a hand clamped down on your shoulder. You were trained for this. You knew exactly what to do. 

Without even so much as taking a breath, you spun quickly on your heels and sent your fist flying into the face of your potential attacker. They stumbled backwards with a loud groan of pain, hands flying to where you’d just punched them in the nose.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He yelped, glaring at you as he held his nose. 

You stared at the man you’d hit wide eyed as the air felt like it escaped your lungs. 

“L-Luke?” You stuttered, wobbling on your feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Nice to see you too.” He grumbled. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You repeated. 

“Where’s Spencer?” He let go of his nose and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Sorry, I meant Andrew. Andrew Burnett, your husband.” He nodded his head towards the wedding band. 

“Goddamnit.” You growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How did you find us?” 

“We’re profilers, Y/N. Come on.” He rolled his eyes. “Garcia found Reid’s car. We tracked you to a used car lot and the car you bought with Spencer’s fake licence. We put out an APB on the Nissan and found it had been picked up on cameras in this town several times.” 

“Are the rest of the team here?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“No, just me. We’re shorthanded, remember?” 

“Good. You need to leave, you have no idea what you’ve walked into.” 

“Y/N,” he softened, stepping towards you. “Has Spencer done something? Has he threatened you?” 

“What? Why would you think that?” You scoffed.

“I spoke to some people in town and they seem to think he’s this violent, angry man.” 

“Who told you that?” You frowned at him. 

“That doesn’t matter. You need to tell me what’s going on. You understand that this looks bad, right?” Luke pleaded with you. 

“We just wanted to get away. Spencer’s been struggling since prison and I was feeling stifled at the BAU. So we decided it might be a good idea to just get away from it all for a while.” You tried to insist but you knew Luke wasn’t buying it.

“I might believe that if it wasn’t for the burner phones and fake IDs and burnt out cars.” He spat. “You were an FBI agent for a long time, you know what that looks like, don’t you?” 

It looks like two criminals on the run. It looks exactly like what it is.

“What are you implying, Luke?” You frowned heavily at him.

“If Spencer has done something, to you or to anyone else, you can tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything.” He looked deep into your eyes and you felt for a brief moment that bond between the two of you. 

You could tell him anything, you knew that much. Luke Alvez had done nothing but stick by your side through everything and you knew this would be no different. 

You reached up and fiddled with the rose gold heart pendant around your neck. Did you love Spencer enough to protect him from this? Or was this finally your way out? 

***

Spencer threw the pillow over his head and groaned deeply as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. The alcohol from last night that still seemed to be drowning his brain cells meant it felt like whoever was knocking was doing so directly against his skull. 

His plan had been not to leave this bed all day. His drive to and from South Dakota plus an exuberant amount of sex had drained his energy and the scotch he’d consumed left him feeling dizzy. 

The knock came again, followed in quick succession by the doorbell. Whoever it was clearly didn’t plan to go away easily. He groaned, his head spinning as he forced himself out of the comfort of the plush bed. His eyes were blurry and made trying to find any semblance of clothes almost impossible. 

As a third knock sounded he managed to locate his boxers and stumbled trying to put them on. His legs wobbled frantically as he slowly crept from the bedroom and down the stairs. 

His stomach lurched as he walked and he briefly thought he might throw up but thankfully it passed. He continued through the living room towards the door as the doorbell rang once more.

“Jeez. Alright I’m coming.” He belched rather unceremoniously. “Jesus I’m still drunk.” 

He threw open the door, keeping hold of it to help steady himself. He blinked a few times against the bright red assault of colour on his retinas before focusing on her face. He groaned, suddenly wishing he’d made an effort to put more clothes on and that he wasn’t standing here in just his boxers with her on his front porch.

“Fucking hell, what do you want?” He leant against the door jamb, not trusting his wobbly legs to stand unaided. 

“Well that’s just rude.” Mary smirked at him and there was something menacing to it. “I just want to talk.” 

“We have nothing to talk about.” He stood back up, moving to close the door in her face only in his state she was faster and she shoved her hands against the wood to stop it from closing. 

“Oh I think we have a lot to talk about.” Her smirk grew. “Why don’t you invite me in, Spencer Reid?”

***

“You can tell me anything.” Luke repeated when you were silent for some time. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Oh please, Spencer couldn’t hurt a fly and you know it.” You shook your head. 

“So he didn’t give you those bruises on your neck?” Luke looked quietly smug. 

You unfolded your arms and one of your hands went to your throat. You’d gotten used to them being there if truth be told and didn’t think much of them most of the time. 

“It’s not what it looks like.” You brushed your fingers over the bruises.

“Oh really? Because to me it looks like he tried to strangle you.” Luke hissed.

“Fucking christ, Alvez,” you spat back, grinding your teeth furiously. “You really want me to stand here and tell you I like it when he puts his hand around my throat when he fucks me?” 

You swore you saw the exact moment Luke’s heart shattered in his chest. His eyes softened and he stumbled backwards, his mouth falling open as a pain washed across his face. You instantly regretted your harsh choice of words but it was too late. 

“You’re…you’re sleeping with him?” He couldn’t hide the upset from his voice despite how hard he tried. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “We’re, uh, together I guess.” 

“You are aware he’s sleeping with some young redhead, right?” Spencer spat. 

“What? How do you know about Mary?” You glared at him. 

“I met her! She told me that Spencer got aggressive with her when he couldn’t get it up. I didn’t believe her at first but then that McGill guy said you’d told him that your “husband” was a bully.” Luke sounded exasperated. 

“You talked to Jesse?” You spat. “Luke, you had no right! You had no right to follow us here in the first place. We’re happy here, just let it go.” 

“Happy? Happy?” He scoffed, stepping towards you. “You’ve got a fucking trail of bruises around your neck and I’m starting to think they aren’t the only ones.” 

Before you could reply, Luke was grabbing one of your hands and pushing the sleeve of the pink wool sweater up your arm revealing more finger shaped bruises circling your wrist. 

“Goddamnit, conejito, really? You’re happy? You’re happy being abused?” He dropped your arm and stepped back, sadly shaking his head. 

“It’s not abuse, jeez. We like rough sex Luke, so what?” 

“Oh my god, please stop talking about you and Reid’s sex life.” 

“Are you jealous?” You scowled at him. “Are you jealous because he’s got all you ever wanted?” 

He frowned at you, looking at you like he didn’t recognise you anymore, like he was standing in front of a stranger. He took a step back, shaking his head in disappointment. 

“Maybe once this is what I wanted, yeah. But you aren’t the same person anymore, are you? You’re not my conejito.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“I was never your conejito, Luke.” You spat. “You need to leave, you shouldn’t be here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what’s going on. What has Spencer done? What are you scared of, Y/N?” Luke begged.

“Spencer has done nothing but love me! We wanted a fresh start, away from the BAU and all the bullshit. I don’t need you anymore Luke, I don’t need you protecting me. Let me go, for the love of god just let me go!” You raised your voice. 

“I think something happened,” he stepped closer to you. “I think Spencer did something really bad and you’re covering for him because you’re scared. You don’t need to be scared, Y/N. Just tell me what he’s done and I can help you.” 

He reached for you but you slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me. Spencer has done nothing wrong, Jesus just because you’re an FBI agent doesn’t mean you always have to think like one. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one. And in this case it’s as simple as we wanted to get away and we knew we’d never be able to do that as Y/N Y/L/N and Spencer Reid.” You growled at him, your back well and truly up. 

“You’re lying.” He bit back. “I know you better than you know yourself and I know when you’re lying. We’re the best goddamn profilers in the world and I swear to you, Y/N, we will find out what he’s done and we will come for him. Don’t let yourself become collateral damage.” 

“Burden of proof.” You shrugged, a wry smile on your face. You remembered so well having a conversation with Spencer in his apartment about the same subject not so long ago. “You say you’re the best goddamn profiliers in the world, but so are me and Spencer. And if, hypothetically, he'd done something, do you really think he’d leave behind any evidence?” 

“You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just tell me what I need to know.” Luke continued to plead with you. 

“You need to know nothing, except for the fact Spencer and I love each other and we are in this together until the bitter end. So why don’t you hop back on the jet and leave us the fuck alone.” You spat so venomously that Luke was actually a little scared of you. 

“You’ve changed.” He shook his head sadly. 

“And you never will.” You pushed past him on the sidewalk, deciding to forgo Scout’s in lieu of going home. 

Your blood was boiling in your veins as you marched back towards the cabin, furious at the BAU for tracking you down, angry at Luke for coming all the way out here. 

But it was only the beginning. 

***

“What do you want from me?” Spencer sat on the couch while Mary stood over him, wishing he weren’t still tipsy and clouded by last night's scotch. 

“I want to know why two FBI agents are hiding out in our town using fake names.” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to insist but he wasn’t able to control his facial expressions the way he normally would. 

“Does the name Luke Alvez mean anything to you?” She scrutinised him and Spencer fought with his expression not to give anything anyway but the scotch was in control.

“No.” He shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you.” She spoke in a sickly sweet tone. “Because I met him and he seems pretty convinced that you and Rose…or should I say Y/N are FBI agents who just dropped their whole lives and ran off without a trace.” 

She met Luke? Luke is here? Why the fuck is Luke here? What the hell is happening? 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He folded his arms across his bare chest. 

“Let’s try this again,” she came closer to him. “And I swear to god if you’re not honest with me…”

“What? You'll do what?” He scoffed at her. 

“I’ll tell everyone the truth about who you are.” She shrugged.

“And you think they’d believe you?” He chuckled. “You think they will believe a story as convoluted as this? Sweetheart, they will think you’re crazy.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mary shrugged. “Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me.” 

Spencer stared at her in utter horror of what she was saying but she looked nothing by smug. His heart started hammering so hard in his chest he felt even sicker than he already had done. He searched for a sign she was bluffing but saw none. 

He was taken back to an interrogation room at a woman’s correctional facility. He could see her so clearly in front of him, Cat Adams telling him she was pregnant with his child. He could hear her wicked voice in his ears. 

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood. 

“W-what?” He stammered. “That’s not the kind of thing you lie about.” 

“Tell me the truth then.” She shrugged. 

“I’m not telling you shit.” He shook his head, pushing himself up to his wobbly legs. 

“Well then, I guess I’ll go. Who should I start by telling? My dad? My brothers?” She started towards the door but Spencer quickly moved and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, somehow able not to fall flat on his face. 

“Listen you little bitch,” he shook her by her arm, growling in her face. “Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?”

“You know you’re not helping yourself right? If you bruise me it’ll only make my story seem more believable.” She glanced at his hand on her wrist and he quickly let her go. “And don’t think I haven’t seen the bruises on your lovely wife. I’m sure she would back up my story.” 

“The only story she would back up is the one where you’re a desperate little whore who shamelessly wanted to fuck a man you perceived to married.” He snapped at her. 

“Well I guess we’ll see won’t we? Who’s going to believe the strange out of towner over the young, innocent girl.” She pouted. 

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look. 

“What do you want? Why do you care who I really am? Fine, if it’s going to shut you up, yes, my name is Spencer Reid. I was an FBI agent and so was Y/N. We changed our names and left town. Why do you even care?” He sighed in exasperation. 

“I guess FBI agents make pretty good money, right?” She mused and Spencer felt his stomach coil into knots at the insinuation.

“That’s what this is about? You want money?” He scoffed.

“I told you I want out of this town. I work three jobs and I am nowhere close to having enough. Finding out your little secret is the best thing that could have happened to me. So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me. Ten grand should do it.” Her smirk grew tenfold and Spencer felt the anger rising throughout his whole body. 

But his brain was still clouded in a thick fog of alcohol. If he’d been at full capacity he would have easily been able to figure a way out of this, but right now all he could think of was killing Mary. The only problem with that was his guns and hunting knife were upstairs.

He could strangle her to death, feeling as she took her last breath. But he knew better, even in his state, that killing someone close to home would only come back to bite him in the ass. He’d been so careful up until now and he couldn’t ruin everything because of this stupid bitch. There had to be another way.

Mary was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, much like he was. He’d tricked everyone in this town into thinking he was just the mild mannered Andrew Burnett here with his wife to escape the big city. But in reality he was a violent killer, an injustice collector of sorts. Maybe Mary was his karma and now was his time to pay up. 

“Let’s just talk about this, please?” He begged her, eyes flickering somewhere off to the side as he sensed a movement by the kitchen. 

“No, no more talking.” She shook her head, clearly not noticing he was distracted. “You pay me now or I will go straight to the cops.” 

If she heard the sound of the gun being cocked, it was too late. And then suddenly the reverberation of a single gunshot filled the room and the bullet pierced straight through the back of Mary’s head, exiting between her eyes and continuing into the wall next to the front door.

The last sound Mary made was a small gasp as she collapsed on the floor in a pool of her own blood at Spencer’s feet. The shock was written all across his face as he looked up at you, still holding the smoking gun in your hand. 

You tucked it in your waistband and strolled closer to Spencer whose mouth was hanging open and wide eyes glared at you in a stupor. 

“W-what did you…? Why did you?” He croaked out as you stepped closer, not a single hint of remorse in your eyes. 

“Karma’s a bitch.” You shrugged simply. “And so was she.” 

Hahaha, this is about you.

Beware, beware, be sceptical,

Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold.

Deceit so natural,

But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.

Baa baa, black sheep, have you any soul?

No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals?

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,

Jill's a little whore, and her alibis are dirty tricks.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Aware, aware, you stalk your prey,

With criminal mentality.

You sink your teeth into the people you depend on,

Infecting everyone, you're quite the problem.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, you better run and hide,

I smell the blood of a petty little coward.

Jack be lethal, Jack be slick,

Jill will leave you lonely, dying in a filthy ditch.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Maybe you'll change,

Abandon all your wicked ways,

Make amends and start anew again.

Maybe you'll see,

All the wrongs you did to me,

And start all over, start all over again.

Who am I kidding?

Now, let's not get overzealous here,

You've always been a huge piece of shit.

If I could kill you, I would,

But it's frowned upon in all fifty states.

Having said that, burn in hell, yeah.

Oh, oh, oh.

So tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

[wanderingnewyork]

From 2018: A No. 1 train enters the #Franklin_Street_Station, #Manhattan while an express train passes through.

[artdecodude]

Montecito Apartments, 6650 Franklin Avenue, #Hollywood , #California . Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1985. #ArtDeco

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Heading into the 50th season of Saturday Night Live, fans of the show and its original cast may feel they already know all of the lore surrounding them and their iconic characters, such as how Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi took two white guys in black suits and rocketed The Blues Brothers to the top of the charts with a multi-platinum album in 1978 and a subsequent movie in 1980 that co-starred Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and James Brown—and in doing so, revitalized the careers of those music legends. And yet, somehow, there are revelations aplenty in a new two-hour oral history, Blues Brothers: The Arc of Gratitude, debuting Thursday exclusively on Audible.

Aykroyd, now 72, narrates and presides over the retrospective, which features previously unheard audio from Belushi (who died in 1982), some of the last testimony of his widow, Judith Belushi Pisano (who died earlier this month), as well as anecdotes from Blues Brothers musical director Paul Shaffer, band members Lou Marini and Steve Jordan, plus drummer Willie Hall, Belushi’s real-life inspiration Curtis Salgado, filmmaker John Landis, and his wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis.

As Belushi’s widow explains, the real origin story of The Blues Brothers involved a lot more than what we saw on screen.

“They were characters. No doubt about it,” Pisano recalls. “They were somewhat alter-egos, as well. They were sort of characters on the stage of life. It wasn’t a bit, exactly, that they ended up doing. I know that it’s often referred to The Blues Brothers as developed from a skit on Saturday Night Live, and you know, that’s really just not true. It’s not how it happened.”

From road trips to roadhouses to 30 Rock

While the Aykroyd-Belushi partnership officially began on stage in Toronto at The Second City—after which they did listen to a live blues band that very first night and share their common tastes in music—the idea for them to perform music in addition to comedy came a bit later when the duo drove cross-country. “They sort of jokingly said, let’s do a band,” Pisano recalls. Belushi, then already a star of The National Lampoon’s off-Broadway musical, Lemmings, as well as The National Lampoon Radio Hour, had recruited Aykroyd from Toronto, and he was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the studio apartment Belushi shared with Pisano on Bleecker Street.

Belushi would get up onstage with bands in NYC or on road trips and sing the old Robert Johnson tune, “Sweet Home Chicago,” which Pisano says “was a well-known, popular, easy to play song.” Lorne Michaels saw one of Belushi’s performances and suggested he do it to warm up the studio audience at Saturday Night Live. Belushi got Aykroyd involved. Willie Nelson gave Jake and Elwood their first big break

Belushi already had befriended Willie Nelson, according to Aykroyd, and they laid out their initial concept for a blues band to Nelson backstage during his residency at The Lone Star Cafe, a former nightclub on Fifth Avenue. “Within a few minutes, Willie had agreed to lend us his band as a backup for a trial show in which Jake and Elwood would open for him,” Aykroyd says. He and Belushi learned a few songs for the gig. “The reaction was favorable, although clear that neither John nor I were conservatory-trained artists, we had a good feel for the music, and we knew how to feature an all-star band.”

Comedian Lenny Bruce helped inspire their signature look

“The wardrobe was inspired by Lenny Bruce, who always wore a dark suit, black string tie and white shirt,” Aykroyd says. “The hat and shades were meant to emulate John Lee Hooker from the photo on the cover of his album House of the Blues. It delighted us that we were compared to IRS agents, Men in Black, and the reference in the movie when Aretha Franklin says that we resemble Hasidic diamond merchants.”

“They found the stuff in thrift shops,” Pisano adds, “and then once the movie hit, they were on—you got yourself a designer, and custom-made suits before you know it.”

Enter Landis’s wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis, who had outfitted Belushi’s “COLLEGE” sweatshirt for National Lampoon’s Animal House, and later picked out the fedora and jacket for Indiana Jones, as well as Michael Jackson’s red Thriller jacket. She recalls how haphazard their early outfits looked as Jake and Elwood: “They were using any jacket and any pair of black trousers, usually didn’t match. So they were not in suits, they were unsuited. And any hat, and any tie, and any shirt, and any glasses that looked OK.”

Lorne Michaels was initially skeptical the idea would work

That their first blues song onscreen happened in their SNL “Killer Bee” costumes? Not part of the plan. “Which John hated,” Landis alleges. “And I think it was Lorne sticking it to him.” But after that performance of “I’m a King Bee” on the Jan. 17, 1976, episode, SNL’s musical director Howard Shore dubbed Aykroyd and Belushi The Blues Brothers, and they were off and running.

Belushi tasked Paul Shaffer, an original SNL house band member (and later longtime band leader for David Letterman’s late-night reign), to hire the rest of The Blues Brothers band, which originally included Shaffer on keys, Marini on sax, Al Rubin on trumpet, Tom Malone on trombone, and Steve Jordan on percussion. “I just knew I was having a better time than I ever thought I would have in my whole life,” Shaffer recalls. “Everybody was having so much fun.” And of Aykroyd and Belushi, Shaffer says: “They were explosive individually,” but together, “like a tornado, that’s what the two were like.”

Malone suggested getting Otis Redding’s guys, Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn on lead guitar and bass to fill out the rhythm section, and then they added another guitarist, Matt “Guitar” Murphy, after seeing him perform elsewhere in the city.

“An odd mixture of people, but man, it worked,” Marini says. “But Lorne didn’t dig it. And then one of the shows late in the season, they were short, and he said, you guys want to do your silly song? Go ahead and do it. And so we did it on the show. And it was a tremendous hit. People just went crazy for it.”

Belushi was furious at anyone who dared criticize the band When The Blues Brothers scored a #1 hit with their debut album, 1978’s Briefcase Full of Blues, Belushi found himself that fall with the top album, along with a box-office smash in Animal House, to go with his fame on SNL. But he was not without his critics.

In a previously unheard interview conducted with journalist Steve Bloom for a 1979 profile in the Soho Weekly News, we hear Belushi brushing back criticism of The Blues Brothers as a novelty act or appropriating black culture.

“It’s just weird, you know. Why would I do these things?” he says. “First of all, it has nothing to do with ego. It has nothing to do with money. Or the need to be loved by an audience. I don’t have any of those feelings. What the fuck do these people think I am, anyway? I can’t fucking understand why they would attack—see when they attack me, they attack the band. And I hate when they attack the band, because then it makes them look like schmucks for doing what they did for me.” One famous scene from ‘The Blues Brothers’ film was inspired by real life

Aykroyd reveals that one scene in their 1980 film is a nod to their actual record deal: “Where we are about to escape from the Palace Ballroom and commence the final run for Chicago. A 350-pound, 6-foot-4-inch man resembling a Turkish spa attendant lunges out from the wings to offer a record deal. This scene is a direct reprise of what happened when John and I left the stage as The Blues Brothers that first night. In the dressing room halls of 8H, at the page stand, Michael Klenfner, who played the guy in the film and was an acquaintance of John’s, grabbed us and said, ‘You guys should do a record. I’m Michael Klenfner from Atlantic Records. Ahmet (Ertegun) will love this.’” Klenfner died at 62 in 2009.

Film distributors didn’t think Southern audiences could handle the film’s ‘Black’ music

Landis says he intended to make a 70mm “road movie” complete with an intermission, but he and Universal couldn’t even convince cinema distributors to roll out the film nationwide. He and Aykroyd claim exhibitors—Landis singled out Ted Mann of Mann Theatres, who’d bought the Fox Theater chain—worried that audiences in the South and elsewhere would object to a film filled with predominantly “Black” music and performers. So they only debuted in 600 cinemas instead of 1,400, and tried to mount a live concert tour to promote it.

Aykroyd saw none of the film’s massive box office profits

Even though the movie brought in more than $115 million at the box office, Aykroyd saw none of it. He says he received a $225,000 salary for writing and performing in the movie, “for which I was grateful then and am now, as I was only a net points participant in the proceeds, this is all the fee and money I have ever received from The Blues Brothers movie. Universal’s position is that due to the high costs at the time, my net points remain worthless.”

The Belushis fared a bit better, as Pisano said John Belushi used $150,000 he’d received as a bonus from Animal House’s success to subsidize the 1978 album recordings, which took place live at Universal Amphitheatre while they served as Steve Martin’s opening act. “We weren’t repaid [by Atlantic] until well after we recorded everything and they’d heard it, so I think we were probably a little naive to assume we were getting that money back,” Pisano says. “But: Best investment I ever made.”

Sean L. McCarthy @thecomicscomic

[deadpresidents]

Was Trump's assassination attempt the first time people other than the president were also killed or hurt?

No, it definitely was not the first time. There have been a number of additional victims during Presidential assassinations or assassination attempts throughout American history.

Here are the incidents where someone other than the President was wounded in an assassination attempt on Presidents or Presidential candidates:

•April 14, 1865, Washington, D.C. At the same time that John Wilkes Booth was shooting Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theatre, Booth's fellow conspirator, Lewis Powell, attacked Secretary of State William H. Seward at Seward's home in Washington. Seward had been injured earlier that month in a carriage accident and was bedridden from his injuries, and Powell viciously stabbed the Secretary of State after forcing his way into Seward's home by pretending to deliver medicine. Powell also attacked two of Seward's sons, a male nurse from the Army who was helping to care for Seward, and a messenger from the State Department. Another Booth conspirator, George Azterodt, was supposed to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson at the same time that Lincoln and Seward were being attacked in an attempt to decapitate the senior leadership of the Union government, but Azterodt lost his nerve and got drunk instead. A total of five people were wounded at the Seward home as part of the Booth conspiracy, but Lincoln was the only person who was killed.

•February 15, 1933, Miami, Florida Just 17 days before his first inauguration, President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt was the target of an assassination attempt in Miami's Bayfront Park. Giuseppe Zangara fired five shots at Roosevelt as FDR was speaking from an open car. Roosevelt was not injured, but all five bullets hit people in the crowd, including Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak who was in the car with FDR. Roosevelt may have been saved by a woman in the crowd who hit Zangara's arm with her purse as she noticed he was aiming his gun at the President-elect and caused him to shoot wildly. Mayor Cermak was gravely wounded and immediately rushed to a Miami hospital where he died about two weeks later.

•November 1, 1950, Blair House, Washington, D.C. From 1949-1952, the White House was being extensively renovated with the interior being almost completely gutted and reconstructed. President Harry S. Truman and his family moved into Blair House, a Presidential guest house across the street from the White House that is normally used for visiting VIPs, for 3 1/2 years. On November 1, 1950 two Puerto Rican nationalists, Griselio Torresola and Oscar Collazo, tried to shoot their way into Blair House and attempt to kill President Truman, who was upstairs (reportedly napping) at the time. A wild shootout ensued on Pennsylvania Avenue, leaving White House Police Officer Leslie Coffelt and Torresola dead, and Collazo and two other White House Police Officers wounded.

•November 22, 1963, Dallas, Texas Texas Governor John Connally was severely wounded after being shot while riding in the open limousine with President John F. Kennedy when JFK was assassinated.

•June 5, 1968, Ambassador Hotel, Los Angeles, California When he finished delivering a victory speech after winning California's Democratic Presidential primary, Senator Robert F. Kennedy of New York was shot several times while walking through the kitchen of the Ambassador Hotel. While RFK was mortally wounded and would die a little over a day later, five other people were also wounded in the shooting.

•May 15, 1972, Laurel, Maryland Segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace was paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by Arthur Bremer at a campaign rally when he was running for the Democratic Presidential nomination. Three bystanders were also wounded in the shooting, but survived.

•September 22, 1975, San Francisco, California A taxi driver in San Francisco was wounded when Sara Jane Moore attempted to shoot President Gerald Ford as he left the St. Francis Hotel. Moore's first shot missed the President by several inches and the second shot, which hit the taxi driver, was altered when a Vietnam veteran in the crowd named Oliver Sipple grabbed her arm as she was firing. Just 17 days earlier and 90 miles away, Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, a member of the Charles Manson family, had tried to shoot President Ford as he walked through Capitol Park in Sacramento but nobody was injured.

•March 30, 1981, Washington, D.C. President Ronald Reagan was shot and seriously wounded by as he left the Washington Hilton after giving a speech. Three other people were wounded in the shooting, including White House Press Secretary James Brady who was shot in the head and partially paralyzed, Washington D.C. Police Office Thomas Delahanty, and Secret Service agent Tim McCarthy. Video of the assassination attempt shows that when the shots were fired, McCarthy turned and made himself a bigger target in order to shield the President with his own body. President Reagan was struck by a bullet that ricocheted off of the Presidential limousine.