#gunman opened fire

[ozarkthedog]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary: the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x afab virgin!reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni. established, undefined relationship. PUSSY RUBBING. fluids galore. just the tip. perv!joel. unspecified age gap. fingering. dirty talk. overstimulation. male masturbation. FEELS. Joel is a conflicted old man. reader is able bodied. no Ellie. w.c. 2.9k

an: i watched a porn clip and instantly went rabid thinking about jackson!joel.

-> follow up to a glimpse of heaven but it's not necessary to read the first part.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Like most of Jackson, the house you share with Joel is quiet and calm when night falls. Rain softly patters against the window as you lie in bed, wide awake. Another night of fruitless sleep under your belt.

You huff irritatedly, your hand collapsing against the mattress as you bitterly kick your bedspread onto the floor. Your oversized shirt clings to your body, your skin dewy from the exertion, and you're close to crying. Your limbs are wrought and overworked after hours of touching yourself with no orgasm to show for it.

Your hand won't cut it; it isn't enough. It can't reach all those sensitive spots that make you float among the stars.

Warmth pools in your abdomen as you think of one that's the perfect size.

A hazy hue of yellow light pours under your bedroom door as it spills from the room across the hall.

Joel.

It takes a long time to get to know someone, but they tend to meld with your soul once you do in one way or another.

From the start, Joel was intimidating. He was so frayed around the edges that you were afraid he'd completely unravel in the middle of your journey. He didn't seem to care for your company as the two of you traveled across the plains to Jackson, hesitation poisoning every fiber of your being, but you kept on with the strange man since no one else was willing to trek across the states. You desperately needed a new life, a fresh start away from the Boston QZ, and Jackson sounded like the perfect spot.

Over time, Joel opened up, conversing little by little as you drove for miles across the now barren US. Usually, after you had a close call with raiders or the lone gunman, he'd go silent, the weight of protecting someone other than himself sinking further into his soul, consuming that much further.

What you never expected was for him to be your first touch.

Sweltering tension slowly grew like a wildfire. Catching each other's curious stares, lingering fingers, and salacious banter until, one night, he slid a cautious hand into your panties. He claimed your untouched sex when you confessed over a roaring fire and a bottle of whiskey that you'd never been with another. His weathered hands were gentle as he sunk his fingers into your core, watching with rabid fascination as you came for the first time, gasping from his touch.

The following day, as he drove you across the interstate with the sun slowly rising, he made sure you knew that wouldn't happen again. "I'm much too old. Don't wanna waste your time with a mean ol' grump like me."

You didn't bring it up again.

One month after settling into Jackson, picking bedrooms, and deciding who would do which chores, Joel had his first taste of you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

You chewed your dinner slowly in the modestly sized dining room across from Joel. You were so lost in thought that he was concerned enough to ask what was wrong.

"What does it mean when a man eats you out?" you naively pondered, causing him to choke on his veggies.

Joel had never looked so red before as he took a long drink of whiskey. You instantly apologized, explaining that you overheard a group of women conversing while you tended the communal garden.

He raised a hand, curbing your frantic rambles. "S'ok. Figured you'd be learnin' things. Just didn' think I'd be the one you'd ask."

"But I trust you."

His jaw twitched at your words.  

Later that night, Joel fell to his knees at the edge of your bed and tossed your legs over his broad shoulders. "Never tasted a pussy so sweet," he mumbled against your glistening folds as you ran your fingers through his graying curls. You came multiple times on his tongue, grinding his whiskered jaw while he hungrily lapped at your soaked folds like he was dying of thirst.

You didn't bring it up again.

It's warmer in Jackson now. The sun hangs longer in the sky. Snow boots and jackets are stowed away until the next freeze.

You slink from the warmth of your bed and pad sockless across the hall. Lightening flickers brightly under the starry sky. The night rain storm slowly whirls through the city, soaking everything in its path.

Joel's door is open. A soft smile tugs at your lips; it's his way of saying he's still up. He keeps it ajar while he reads before rolling onto his side and bidding goodnight to the world.

Three soft knocks alert Joel from the guitar-building manual he's currently reading. Dread clouds his mind for a moment, wondering why you'd be knocking on his door at this time of night, but he takes a deep breath and grounds himself in the softness of his bed.

"Yeah?" he calls out. His tone is rough around the edges after a long day on patrol.

You poke your head around the door with a timid smirk. He looks at you over his reading glasses before marking his spot and laying his book on the side table.

You don't say anything as you stride into his room. He notices your oversized shirt swaying at your knees before you climb into his bed and curl against his side like a cat. 

He drapes an arm around your shoulder, unconsciously pulling you closer.

"'Nother bad dream?" he questions with a low rumble.

You shake your head. "Can't sleep."

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder and feel him nod, understanding the endless struggle for a night of peaceful sleep. It's improved since moving to Jackson, but the dreams never end.

Silence fills the bedroom except for the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Joel leans against the headboard, sighs through his nose, and lets his thoughts drift. He's content to sit with you in his arms for as long as possible, even if that makes him selfish.

He wonders if you hope to find someone to settle down with, someone less ridged and mentally maimed, someone less him.

The thought drives a stake through his heart.

He'd be crazy to say he didn't love being around you. Your laugh and lopsided smile took the first brick out of his impenetrable fortress when you spied a deer and her calf frolicking in an open field in Kansas. From then on, it became easier for him to let his walls down.

When you came to him with those big doe eyes and urges about wanting to know what it's like to be touched and desired, he gave in each time despite his reasoning.

He would masturbate each time after getting his hands on you, also thinking about the early days when he'd catch glimpses of you changing or the time he first saw you naked while showering at the YMCA. 

He's still trying to figure out what to make of you. Friends? Lovers? He certainly didn't mean to fall head over heels. Love had no place in his heart, but he'd be a fool to say he wasn't extremely fond of you.

"Can you make me feel good again?" your lithe voice broke the silence.

Joel stops breathing. Your question doused him like a cold bucket of water. He knew this would come back and haunt him.

His hand curls tight around your shoulder as he wrestles with the devil on his shoulder. "Told ya we shouldn't keep doin' this, Sweetheart," he reasons, trying not to break your heart.

"But I can't make myself feel as good as when you've done it. I've tried!" You whine, burying your face into his chest.

"S'not that I don't wanna," he admits, soothing your soft cries. "S'just, you're too precious to do that wit' someone like me."

You lift your head and brazenly brush your lips against the exposed skin of his collarbone, earning a low groan as he curls a large hand around the back of your neck. He tugs you away from his skin, your lips still forming a tight 'O', and pins you with a stern gaze.

"Joel, it hurts." Your watery eyes and trembling bottom lip are his downfall.

"Lay back, Sweetheart, and spread your legs," he orders with a husky tone.

You don't make a noise; too afraid he'll stop if you do. Your cunt beats against the gusset of your panties as you lay on your back, spreading and bending both legs at the knee, just like he taught you.

A warm breath fans down your face as he shifts down your body before kneeling between your legs and tracing teasing fingers over your covered mound. His nails lightly scratch along the worn cotton, making you suck in a frantic breath. He slips a practiced hand beneath the crotch of your panties and deftly explores your folds, gently rubbing small circles on your clit after wetting his fingers with the arousal that's pouring from your cunt.

"Oh, she's achin' real bad, huh?" he groans as your opening clenches beneath his wandering touch.

"Joel, please, I need-" You gasp, hips wantonly grinding against his hand, desperate for any type of friction.

The muscles in his jaw ache. It's only natural you'd be wanting more.

Before he thinks twice, Joel draws his cock out from his sweatpants. Your stomach cramps at the sight as it smacks against his belly; he's massive.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs like a solid, dangerous threat. It weeps from the dusky tip, shiny liquid dripping from the crown as he squeezes his hand around the girthy base peppered with dark gray, wiry hair.

"Got somethin' that'll make you feel good, sweet girl." he grits, tapping his cock against the covered crux of your pussy. It thwaps devastatingly against your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips as mind-numbing pleasure races up your spine and leaves you staring dumbly up at him.

"S'that what you need? Need my cock to keep 'er from achin so bad'?" his cock is searing as it lies in wait atop your panty-clad mound. You swear you can feel his blood pumping steadily into his shaft.

He cautiously thrusts his hips, sliding his length along your cotton-covered mound. Your slick arousal seeps thru the material, wetting the thin cotton and creating a sensuous touch as he glides along your cunt.

He shoves your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, "Such'a beauty."

Your cheeks flame at his words. Having such a man say things about you makes you lightheaded.

Joel groans as your panties practically are now see-through from your combined fluids staining the cotton, "Oh, baby." You whine at his pet name. "I got ya. Keep those legs open, just like I taught ya. S'good girl."

He keeps a steady pace, sawing back and forth over your extremely soaked mound. Your puffy pussy lips stick to the soaked cotton, leaving nothing to Joel's imagination. He glides easily along your slit, your juices smoothing his path until your arching your back and chanting his name like a prayer.

Watching you orgasm under his touch is enough to drive him wild. He throws all sense of logic out the window. He's okay with being selfish again.

"Let's get these off, yeah." He hooks two fingers under the elastic and slides your panties off before his words register in your euphoric haze. "Feel even better without 'em."

He swallows hard at the sight laid out before him. The sheets splay and curve around your naked body, making you look like an ethereal being sent to test his limits.

"Gonna give 'er a kiss, Sweetheart," his deep timbre vibrates your body as he draws close and touches the bulbous tip of his cock to your exposed folds. Blood rushes to your cunt instantly, bordering on the edge of pain. You cry out from the intense contact, and arousal slips freely down your crack as he traces his cockhead up and down your soaked slit.

"How's she feel?" He anchors his head, looking down at you from under his lashes.

"S'nice," you half whisper, half moan. The wanton bliss slowly consumes you the more he rubs against your sticky folds, keeping a hand locked around his girthy base, his crown glistening with your combined arousal.

Your eyes tear open, back arching like a bow, when he cants his hips and taps his cock square in the center of your cunt.

"M'not gonna fuck you, sweet girl, wanna keep you whole," he declares, holding true to his word despite the overwhelming need to claim you.

He can't be the one to sully you. "Ain' much left'a this world that's as sweet n' pure as you."

Your core quivers as his dusky, throbbing crown glides along your glistening seam. He tentatively explores uncharted areas, brows furrowed with concentration, fighting with inner demons who want to claim, corrupt, and mold you for only his touch.

His name leaves your lips with a mess of desperate, frustrated moans, "Please, Joel."

He snaps out of his haze. He's done almost everything he can to keep you safe and protected in this new way of life. He'll be damned if he doesn't grant you anything you ask for.

"S'hurtin' somethin' fierce, huh?" He grunts, angling his hips until his cock lines up with your fluttering hole. "Bet she needs somethin' big'er than fingers to ease 'er throbbin'."

His cock catches on your opening, forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth. As tight as you are, he can't stop from pushing into your warmth. He blocks out any sense of reasoning that's shouting from the back of his mind as he slowly nudges his cock into your weeping, inviting hole.

Joel goes brain-dumb momentarily, watching in immoral awe as your core ever so slowly swallows his fat tip and breaches your quivering hole, forcing a raspy whine from your throat.

So warm, safe, and wet.

Joel's never felt anything like you. He wants to bury himself, slide his cock as deep as he can, claim every inch, endlessly fill you with his cum, and keep you only for him.

You frantically reach for him, hands clutching the air as he rubs a callous thumb over your clit while keeping a steady hold on the base of his cock.

"S'all she's gonna get," he states, returning to his senses and hissing when your cunt tightens. "S'just the tip."

A soft begging whine bubbles from your lips as you extend your arms, needing something solid to hold before latching onto his wrists.

Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel his length completely shunted in your velvet warmth, but brute hands envelop your hips and pin them to the bed.

He shakes his head, salt and pepper curls fraying across his forehead. "Don' be greedy now." He tuts, narrowing his gaze down at you.

A garbled mess of nonsense tumbles from your lips as your fingernails dig into his muscular, hairy forearms.

"I know. S'big, huh?" He lands a solemn thumb on your clit, rubbing tender circles around the tiny bud. "Stay wit' me, sweet girl. Wanna feel you come on my cock."

Your mind spins. It's all too much, and yet, not enough. Your head tosses from side to side, and you're frantic to survive, breathing hard and fast, waiting for the drop to come and, at the same time, never wanting it to come.

"Don't I deserve it? Keepin' you safe all this time." Joel muses, stroking his cock in time with his teasing thumb. His eyes never leave where he's splitting you open. He's barely penetrating you, but it's enough to know if he had, you'd be struggling to take him.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Let go f'me," he urges, his touch growing faster. Severe, tightly drawn circles tease you closer to the edge.

Your stomach flips. A heaviness settles in your throat, your heart lodging in the tight confines, your blood pumping faster and faster. A lithe whine slithers free, escaping into the dimly lit room and burrows into Joel's mind.

His jaw clenches, and a dark growl rumbles from his chest, "Thatta' girl. Make'a fuckin' mess'a me."

Your dripping hole quivers and throbs around his swollen tip as you come with a silent scream, body locking taut, trying its best to engulf his length entirely.

Joel curses, jerking his length with long, steady tugs and rubbing his weeping, cream-covered tip around your soaked folds before his spine goes straight, and he yanks his cock from your core, curling in on himself and spilling his seed all over your belly with a deep, gravelly moan.

You sag into his sheets, spent with a shiny thin layer of dew and white ropes of spend painted across your abdomen.

"Shit." Joel curses, breathing heavily as he holds himself by his hands, which press into the mattress by your head, keeping you locked beneath him.

You hold his studious gaze. His dark eyes ruminate, tinged with mood, as his gaze drills down into your very core, threatening to demolish your soul. You resign that this was nothing special. Just another night you won't talk about again.  

Joel eases off of you with a grunt, his bones aching from the tension despite the brief, pleasurable relief, and tucks his cock back away into his sweatpants. He shuffles to the bathroom momentarily before returning with a damp washcloth.

He wipes the cloth over your belly and between your thighs, cleaning the combined arousal from your skin before chucking the rag into the hamper with a sigh.

"I know," you mutter, grimacing as you roll onto your side and sit up, tugging your shirt down. "I won't mention it again."

A solid, warm hand on your shoulder stops your retreat. "Stay," Joel whispers with soft, yearning eyes. "I wan' you to stay, sweet girl."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[ur-mag]

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court | In Trend Today

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[alpha-mag-media]

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court | In Trend Today

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yelling at Cops

Part 2 of Flirting with Cops

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: After you are injured, your fiancé Tim yells at you and treats you like a boot. When Wade and Nyla find out, they tell him what really happened.

Warnings: canon typical danger and action, explosion, r is injured and goes to the hospital, yelling/arguments, fluff, teasing

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Bradford,” Nyla whispers from the other side of the shop. “Tell me this-“

“Do I have to?” you ask.

“Yes, because I am your TO. I’m, like, a goddess in this shop. I have the power to-“

“Have me fired or make me a rookie forever,” you finish with a chuckle. “I know, ma’am.”

“Tell me this,” Nyla begins again. “Does Bradford call you boot?”

“No.”

“Never? Not even when he gets upset?”

“He hasn’t gotten super upset with me yet. Raised his voice once because I almost got hurt, but nothing serious. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did at some point, though.”

“7-Adam-19, there’s a reported 215 and 245 at Olympic and Burnside Avenue,” control alerts.

“7-Adam-19, show us responding,” Nyla radios.

“Carjacking and assault with a deadly weapon?”

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Nyla jokes.

As you approach the intersection, you see a man with a large automatic rifle ducking behind a car. There are civilians on the other side of the road and an injured man on the driver’s side of the car.

“Control, 7-Adam-19 requesting backup. One armed, one injured,” Nyla informs. “Block this lane.”

You pull around with your side of the shop toward the gunman. The car is facing you, so he can’t escape unless it’s on foot. Nyla opens her door and slides out before staying low to go around the back of the shop. You watch the man beside you, and when he turns quickly, you lower your window and pull your gun from your holster. He has a different weapon when he twists toward you, and when he aims it toward the back tire, you know he’s going to hurt Nyla. You don’t think before acting, not like you should, at least.

You throw the door open and begin firing as you move back toward Nyla. She yells at you to get down, but you turn toward her instead.

“Run!” you yell.

As you run behind Nyla, trying to get away from the shop, the man shoots the new weapon, and the shop explodes behind you. You fall to the asphalt, and Nyla stumbles ahead of you. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you push yourself up and rush behind a parked car. Nyla’s eyes widen when she sees you, and she pushes up to look through the windows of the car to locate the man.

“Control, this is Harper. Where’s my backup?” she yells into the radio.

“ETA two minutes,” control responds.

“What do we do?” you ask. “He’ll run.”

“You don’t do anything,” Nyla snaps. “Control, send a R/A to my location.”

“Harper, he’s moving again,” you say.

“Not your concern,” she replies.

You look toward her, and she’s looking between your leg and the car across the street. What’s left of the shop is aflame in the middle of Olympic Boulevard, blocking part of the man’s location from view. When Nyla turns toward you, you finally look at your leg. Your pants are darkened with blood, and when you bend your knee, you hiss in pain.

“Don’t move,” Nyla demands.

You don’t listen and gently push your fingers against the side of your thigh. “It’s just a bunch of glass.”

“Shrapnel in your body is not just anything!”

“Harper, we have to do something or he’s going to hurt the other people.”

Nyla exhales deeply before nodding. “Bradford is going to kill me,” she murmurs.

“He’ll come for me first,” you say with a small smile.

“Alright. You go around the shop and I’ll come up from behind. If you have a shot, take it.”

As you limp around the far side of the intersection, you raise your weapon and look for the shooter. Nyla’s gun fires before you see him, and you rush out to cover her. When the man sees you, he drops the rifle in his hands and raises them.

“Nice work,” Nyla tells you. “Now sit down and wait for your ambulance.”

On cue, the ambulance pulls up and two paramedics rush to your side.

“I’ll alert Sergeant Bradford,” someone says.

“No!” you and Harper yell together.

“This is related to his case,” the officer argues.

Wade slams the door of his car and cuts off the rest of his sentence. “I’ll fill in Bradford,” he states. “You, though,” he says to you, “have a lot more to explain.”

“You’re going to tell him?” you ask him.

“Would you rather he find out over the radio?”

You shake your head, and the paramedics move your gurney into the ambulance.

“I’ll try to calm him down, but… good luck, kid. I’ll be by in a few.”

“Thank you. You too, Harper.”

“You saved my life. Sorry I yelled at you,” she offers.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve just been moved to a private room after a painful hour of having shrapnel removed from your leg when Tim’s voice echoes through the hallways. He yells your name before his footsteps near your room. When he stops at the door, his chest is heaving, and his nostrils are flared.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tim demands loudly. “Harper should have you fired for that little stunt. I would! You are not here to be a hero, boot, and endangering lives – including yours – is not what being a cop is about!”

“Sergeant Bradford,” Wade says from behind Tim. “A word?”

“With me?” Tim asks. “Why don’t you remind the rookie in here about a little thing called procedure!”

“Tim,” Wade interjects. “Hallway. Now.”

Your eyes drop to your hands as they leave. Tim has never yelled at you like this before, and his insults and threats to have you fired do little to calm your nerves. Harper seemed mad when she first noticed your injury, but that was nothing compared to Tim’s reaction. You wait nervously for Tim, or at least Wade, to return from the hallway.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim begins to speak, but Wade raises a hand. He takes a deep breath to calm down before explaining everything he knows to Tim.

“I-“ Tim begins.

“No!” Wade says. “You don’t get to make an excuse about not knowing. You have known from the beginning, I told you from the beginning. When you came to me and said you were dating a rookie, I made an exception for you on one condition. I told you that if anything happened to her, it was on you. Not because you’re her superior, but because she is yours. This situation is unique, but you led me to believe you could handle it. Now, I’ll be honest, I did that hoping you’d back out and decide to wait to start a relationship, but once I saw the two of you together, my concerns became about what would happen if the two of you were separated by something or injured. That speech I just heard makes me think you’re just here as a cop. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll listen.”

“Why us?” Tim asks angrily. “Why are we worth the special treatment and personal attention?”

Somewhere along the way, Wade became like a father figure to you. When he agreed to let Tim continue seeing you without alerting IA, he threatened to demote, fire, or kill him if he did anything to jeopardize your career, life, or relationship.

“Because I care, Bradford. Is that so hard to believe? And right now, I’m wondering if you should go back to patrol or find a new station?”

“You can’t fire me for hurting her delicate little feelings, Wade!”

“And how would your feelings be if you were going to her funeral?” Wade snaps. Tim’s face drops and Wade adds, “Harper just filed her official statement. Their backup was two minutes away, and she would have been dead if your rookie hadn’t stepped in. They would both be dead, and I don’t know about you, but I think some glass shards to the leg is a whole lot better than a funeral.”

Tim’s eyes drop as he nods. “I messed up.”

“You did. Now do something about it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You look up immediately when the door opens. Tim walks in first, but Wade is close behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim begins. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you or threatened to have you fired, especially when I didn’t know as much as I thought I did. Are you okay?”

You nod, but Wade jumps in before you can say anything.

“I’m sorry, too. I went behind your back to keep Tim in line, or so I thought, from the very beginning. I should have been open with both of you, but I’ll do better now.”

“I forgive you,” you whisper, looking at Tim. You turn toward Wade to add, “And thank you for whatever it is you’ve done already.”

Wade nods and smiles before stepping back toward the door. Tim goes in the opposite direction and stops beside your bed.

“You’re really okay?” he asks as he takes your hand.

“Just sore. And I have to buy new pants.”

Tim sighs and pulls you into a hug, bending over to pull you close. You smile against him and rub his back. He’s tenser than you are, and he wasn’t even blown up.

You know that your relationship with Tim will never be easy, but it will always be worth the time and effort. Plus, your friends understand what you are going through and are there for you every step of the way.

“Visitor,” Wade alerts.

Tim steps back as Nyla walks in with a bag of your favorite snacks. Despite her original tough act, she does like you as a cop and as a friend.

“I heard someone yelled at you,” she says with a quick look toward Tim.

“He apologized. Didn’t bring me snacks though. Thank you!” you reply.

“He better keep apologizing,” Nyla adds, talking directly to Tim.

“I will,” he promises. “Glad you’re both okay.”

“Wait, does this mean I can’t help with the Metro case that I almost died for?” you interject.

“Not for a while,” Tim answers. “Gotta heal, first.”

“What was it you said? ‘Just some glass’, then walk it off,” Nyla says with a shrug.

“I wanted to ride with TO Bradford, the scariest in station history.”

You pout, and Tim shakes his head while Nyla laughs. Wade thinks about you and Tim riding together and wonders if you’d manage to get anything done.

“One cop is more than enough in my relationship,” Wade sighs. “I don’t know how you two do it.”

[wilwheaton]

America is living through a reign of white supremacist terror, but we won’t bring ourselves to call it that, treat it that way, or hold accountable the provocateurs in the Republican Party who are catalyzing and instigating the attacks. You might be forgiven for missing the significance of the weekend news that a gunman who fits the profile of domestic right-wing terrorist – white, male, 21 years old – allegedly targeted Black people and opened fire in a Jacksonville Dollar General store, killing three people of color before committing suicide. It’s easy and not entirely erroneous to drop this incident in the bucket of runaway gun crimes in an America with few gun regulations. But it’s the wrong bucket to put in it. This is the runaway violence of white supremacists against minority groups happening in tandem with the rise of a radical right-wing Republican Party, but with little public acknowledgment or understanding of what’s really happening.

America Is In the Grip Of A Reign Of White Supremacist Terror

[newobsessionweekly]

One Rule Down

Part 2 of The rules are made to be broken series (18+)

part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x female!TO!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Warnings: NFSW, explicit sexual content. 18+, mentions of blood, shooting, GSW, pain, r being shot, not proofread yet.

Summary: Tim breaks one rule after you got hurt on a call.

Smut A/N: def not the fic I had in mind to post. I seriously forgot abt this series and I loved writing it. Still in my break, but found this in my drafts and I said why not. @senjoritanana thanks for reminding me of this series ✨

Requested: no Words: 1.9k GIF not mine, credits to the owner!

The radio crackled to life with the urgent call—a report of a disturbance at a convenience store on the outskirts of the city. Without hesitation, you and your rookie sprang into action, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raced toward the scene.

Arriving at the store, you were met with chaos. Shattered glass littered the pavement, and panicked screams filled the air as bystanders fled in all directions. Nolan took cover behind the shop, scanning the area for any sign of danger, while you positioned yourself nearby, ready to support him at a moment's notice.

"LAPD! Drop your weapons!" you demanded, but the only response was something far away from cooperation.

A group of armed men emerging from the store, their faces obscured by masks as they brandished weapons with lethal intent. You're outnumbered, you thought to yourself.

"7-Adam-15, requesting backup at the 6077 W 3rd street. Eight armed men, no sight of cooperation." you radioed, watching over Nolan's.

You nodded your head, silently telling him backup is on its way and to proceed only if necessary before help arrives.

But before you could even react, a figure emerged behind Nolan, a weapon glinting in their hand. Instinct took over as you lunged forward, pushing Nolan out of harm's way just as the gunman opened fire.

As you moved to shield Nolan from an oncoming barrage of bullets, a searing pain ripped through your side, causing you to stumble backward with a cry of agony. Blood stained your uniform as you collapsed to the ground, your vision swimming with pain and adrenaline.

Pain exploded through your body as the bullet struck true, sending you crashing to the ground in a heap. The world spun around you as you struggled to catch your breath, the taste of copper lingering on your tongue as darkness threatened to consume you.

"7-Adam-15, requesting backup and R/A to my location, officer down!" you heard Nolan's voice crackle over the radio, his words a distant echo in your ears as you fought to stay conscious. "I repeat, officer down!" Through blurred vision, you watched as Nolan returned fire, his movements swift and precise as he engaged the gunman in a fierce firefight.

But as the minutes dragged on, your strength waned, your vision growing dimmer with each passing moment. The pain was unbearable, a searing heat that radiated through your body, but still, you refused to give up.

With every ounce of strength you could muster, you reached for your radio, your fingers trembling as you struggled to make contact with dispatch. "Backup… R/A… officer down," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper as darkness threatened to claim you.

As Officer Bradford heard Nolan's panicked voice crackling over the radio, a cold chill ran down his spine, sending shivers of fear coursing through his veins. Without a moment's hesitation, he knew something was terribly wrong with you, and he couldn't bear the thought of you in danger.

Ignoring all protocol and the rules you both agreed upon, Tim threw caution to the wind and bolted into action, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced through the streets of Los Angeles to get to you. Beside him, Lucy Chen clung to her seat, her eyes wide with concern as she tried to keep up with Tim's breakneck speed.

"Backup… R/A… officer down," your voice echoed through the radio, broken and shattered as his heart sank, tightening the grip on the steering wheel.

Arriving at the scene, Tim didn't even bother assessing the situation—he simply rushed to your side, his heart in his throat as he took in the sight of you lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath you. Panic gripped him like a vice as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your face, his touch gentle yet urgent.

"Hey, hey, Y/N, can you hear me?" Tim's voice was hoarse with emotion, his eyes scanning your pale face for any sign of consciousness. "Hang in there, okay? Help is on the way."

It's been months since you both agreed to those rules and everything was by the book. You were seeing Tim almost every night, finding solace in each other's arms, pleasure blooming between you.

Despite his efforts to remain composed, Tim's façade of strength crumbled in the face of your injuries, his hands shaking as he applied pressure to your wound, his mind racing with a million different fears and possibilities. He knew he had broken the rule you both agreed upon, but in that moment, all he could think about was you—your safety, your well-being, your life hanging in the balance.

As the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, Tim's anxiety only grew, his heart hammering in his chest as he prayed for the sound of approaching sirens. He didn't care about the suspects still at large or the chaos unfolding around him—all that mattered was you, lying there before him, fighting for your life.

He had broken the cardinal rule, the one about not letting your personal lives disturb your professional duties. And in doing so, he had shattered the fragile balance you had worked so hard to maintain.

Yet, amidst the turmoil of your emotions, there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel grateful for Tim's presence by your side. Despite his gruff exterior and tendency to push people away, he had rushed to your aid without a moment's hesitation, his concern and fear evident in every word and gesture.

As for Tim, he couldn't shake the sense of guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had broken the rules, betrayed the trust of the one person who meant more to him than he cared to admit. He cursed himself for allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment, as he reached out to take your hand in his, a silent vow formed in Tim's heart: no matter what the future held, he would do everything in his power to protect you and keep you safe, even if it meant breaking the rules one more time.

The front door opened with a loud noise, drifting you off sleep. Tangled in your sheets, enjoying the silence of some time away from the chaos, it was your last night before you're back on duty.

You haven't heard from Tim since you were shot. After a short visit from him while you were in hospital, too drugged to process what happened, you were left with a buzzing phone, messages from Nolan and Lucy making your days pass agonizingly slow.

There he was today, holding some takeaway in one hand, blocking the light from the hallway penetrate your bedroom. He was tall and imposing, wearing the uniform that made him look like a Greek God.

You didn't make a sound, waiting for him to make the first move "Bought you some food."

He motioned to the bags in his hand as you secretly thanked him. John and Lucy took shifts to drop by your house and bring you something to eat, especially in the first days, when it was impossible for you to move more than ten steps without cursing between your teeth and question the day you decided to become a cop. You don't regret it, but for your safety it was better if you would've chosen another path.

"Thank you," you replied to him, as you tried to maintain a serious expression. You tried to make things as easier as they were, not showing any signs of your feelings, but it was in vain.

Things weren't going to be back as how they were before Tim broke that rule. It wasn't just about the rules, it was about the consequences of his actions, leaving two rookies to handle a situation way out of their league as he rushed to your side, those dangerous men almost slipping away.

Neither of you didn't say a word as you finished the food. He knew he messed up, and it was funnier than it should've been. Tim was the one who came up with those fucking rules and he was the one breaking them. You did it yourself, officer.

Before you could process, you found yourself swirling your tongue around his in a desperate desire. Tim wasn't far behind you, catching up immediately the rhythm of your movements, not backing up any second. He needed this more than he wanted to admit. He needed your touch. He needed to touch you and make sure you're okay.

Keeping his distance in a moment he knew you wished someone to be there by your side, was killing him. But it was necessary, since both of you started to drift off from the rules. And Tim always goes by book. Well, with some exceptions that happen to include you.

Longing for his touch, for him helping you feel anything but pain, decided to get rid of your clothes as quickly as you could. You needed to feel him inside you, to make you whole again.

He was moving painfully slow, memorizing every inch of your skin. You let him guide the rhythm, as you enjoyed his hands on your body, driving you crazy with every kiss placed on your skin. You run your fingers lightly down his body, feeling his boner pressing hard on you.

You wanted him inside you, you wanted to feel him and forget about everything that happened. He traced the shape of your wound, as he teased your nipples slowly, leaving warm marks on them.

"Damn, you are so perfect." he breathed, enjoying the sight of your curves embraced by the warm light laying over them. All of your scars are visible, letting both of you vulnerable. But it didn't stop you.

He cupped your cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed the distance separating you, making you escape a loud moan of desire that you were holding for too long.

Both your bodies were filled with a warm wetness as he moved slowly inside you, like he didn't want to cause you any more pain. His kisses were sweet and tender, caressing your body as his movements drove you crazy any second. Something in his movements changed, being more gentle, like he didn't want it to stop.

Something in his motion made you wonder if it has to do with his fear of losing you, the same fear that clouded his mind the other days.

The rhythm became more chaotic and intense as you threw your head back into the pillows, tugging on the sheets as pleasure exploded between you in synchrony. Digging your fingers into Tim's shoulders as you locked his gaze, the climax was approached with a sudden burst of energy, making your bodies shake uncontrollably as he was buried deep inside.

After the moment consumed, you thought he'd disappear into the night so suddenly as his arrival. But he didn't, he hold you close, afraid if he'd let go of you, he'll never see you again.

He couldn't understand his feelings, why he desperately wanted to make sure you're okay. You're a grown up woman who can take care of yourself, but still he was there afraid he can't protect you. And he wanted to be able to protect you. In none of the rules wasn't specified that you are not allowed to care for each other, and he placed his care into the professional relationship. But it was far from the truth.

[reality-detective]

BREAKING NEWS: MELANIA TRUMP JUST BROKE HER SILENCE—THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT WAS AN INSIDE JOB

In a move that has stunned the nation, Melania Trump has shattered her silence with a chilling revelation: the assassination attempt on Donald Trump was not an isolated act of violence, but a betrayal from within. This shocking accusation has cast a shadow over Trump's inner circle and ignited a storm of speculation.

The Attack That Shook the Nation

On July 13, 2024, during a rally near Butler, Pennsylvania, a gunman opened fire, striking Trump in the ear, tragically killing one audience member and injuring two others. The assailant, Thomas Matthew Crooks, was swiftly neutralized, but the nation was left in disbelief. What was seen as a lone attack has now been turned upside down by Melania's explosive claim—this wasn’t just an attack; it was a calculated betrayal.

Melania’s Accusation Rocks the Inner Circle

For years, Melania has remained the quiet, dignified figure behind her husband. But her recent statements have ignited a firestorm. “This was not just an attack on my husband, but a betrayal,” she declared, hinting that those closest to Trump might have orchestrated the attempt. Melania’s bold accusation has shattered the illusion of unity in Trump’s camp and turned the focus toward dark conspiracies that go beyond what anyone imagined.

A Deeper Conspiracy?

Could individuals within Trump’s trusted circle have been involved? Political analysts are buzzing with the possibility that this was an elaborate attempt to push Trump off the stage, orchestrated by figures who saw his dominance as a threat. Melania’s statements have breathed new life into this theory, forcing investigators to question everything—from Secret Service failures to who really benefited from the attack.

Questions Loom Larger Than Ever

Melania’s words have triggered new doubts about security protocols and whether someone on the inside allowed this tragedy to happen. How did the gunman get so close? Could this betrayal go higher than anyone has dared to suggest? As investigators dig deeper, the tension around Trump’s circle continues to build, with Melania’s claims fueling the fire.

A New Force in the Fight

No longer content to stay in the background, Melania Trump has transformed into a fierce defender of her family. Her accusations have turned her into a central figure, raising questions no one dared ask. Her legacy, once quiet and understated, is now tied to this bold claim, and the implications are monumental.

The storm around Trump has intensified. Melania’s voice has become a rallying cry, her words sending shockwaves across the political landscape. Whether or not her claims are ever proven, her determination to expose the truth will not go unnoticed. 🤔

[woman1festo]

on the day of Nov 14th 2019, Daniil Zasorin, 19, had been denied entrance into the classroom due to him being late.

Students told local media that a teacher had twice asked the attacker to leave a classroom, because he was being disruptive.

Zasorin returned with a pump-action shotgun (which he had snuck through school security) and entered his homeroom.

He opened fire in the room, shooting victims at their desks. where he pointed his weapon at his classmates and forced the teacher to leave the room.

The shooter then opened fire indiscriminately, targeting everyone in his crosshairs.

Most of the class hid under tables, but some stood their ground. One classmate stood up, catching the gunman’s eye.

“Hey, are you immortal?” the shooter asked, moments before shooting his unarmed victim at point blank range with the comment: “Let’s check it out!”

Before the shooting, He was spotted by another student who entered the toilet. For some unknown reason, the gunman decided not to open his body count at that time. He told the witness to jump out of the window if he wanted to live. The student survived the fall but broke both arms.

A police officer said that when a cop went up to the second floor of the institution, he saw the armed teen - who tried to shoot the officer.

The police shot back at him, wounding him in the process.

Shortly after, the shooter turned the gun on himself, ending the rampage with just one more body added to the count.

Two people had died by then, himself and one other. three others were left wounded.

Student Alexey Golubnichy, 19, survived the shooting and was rushed to hospital in "grave condition", but died during emergency surgery.

Those wounded were named as Egor Stasyuk, 17, Kasiyan Kamanets, 19, and Vladislav Rozhkov, 20. All were rushed to the hospital and survived.

According to witnesses, the classroom was covered with bullets casings. Additional ammo was found in the toilet of the bathroom.

In a recording found by police, Zasorin says an unspecified group of “those people” should have been responsible for stopping past school shootings, including the 1999 Columbine High School shooting, as well as present shootings like his own. 

[dertaglichedan]

SCHOOL RAMPAGE

‘At least 10 dead’ in Sweden school shooting as terrifying vid shows gunman prowling corridors as kids flee for lives

Horror footage shows students trapped inside the school as gunshots rang out

At least 10 people are believed to have been killed after the lone gunman opened fire at Campus Risbergska School in Orebro, according to cops.

Police announced at a press conference "some 10 people" were killed with the numbers of injured in the horror attack still unclear.

They are now working to identify the victims and inform their families.

The deadly shooting caused such extensive damage that investigators are struggling to confirm an exact death toll, Police chief Roberto Eid Forest said.

Sweden's Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson described it as the "worst mass shooting in Swedish history.

***Interesting, ABC news on the radio never mentioned it was a school shooting nor did they have any motive. Pretty sad when a rag like the SUN at least posts photos and explains what is going on.

[simply-ivanka]

“WASHINGTON (AP) — Nearly two weeks after Donald Trump’s near assassination, the FBI confirmed Friday that it was indeed a bullet that struck the former president’s ear, moving to clear up conflicting accounts about what caused the former president’s injuries after a gunman opened fire at a Pennsylvania rally.

“What struck former President Trump in the ear was a bullet, whether whole or fragmented into smaller pieces, fired from the deceased subject’s rifle,” the agency said in a statement.

The statement from the FBI marked the most definitive law enforcement account of Trump’s injuries and followed ambiguous comments earlier in the week from Director Christopher Wray that appeared to cast doubt on whether Trump had actually been hit by a bullet.

The comment drew fury from Trump and his allies and further stoked conspiracy theories that have flourished on both sides of the political aisle amid a dearth of information following the July 13 attack.”

[allthingsfangirl101]

Should've Been Me – Timothy McGee

The case went south fast. We were made and soon under gunfire. McGee and I were tucked behind one wall while the gunman shot at us. We took our time, taking shots when we had a chance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving across the other side of the room.

"McGee, I think there's. . ."

I gasped when he pulled me back around the wall. I looked up to see that I was in his arms.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

Our window opened up so we shot off a few bullets before running and ducking behind a different wall. That's when I saw it again. This time it looked like a shadow running by.

"Where are Gibbs and Tony?!" I yelled over the gunfire.

"They're on their way," McGee yelled back. We ducked back down when someone got close. "I'm gonna call them again."

As McGee called Gibbs, I kept cover. That is until I saw it again. This time, the shadow had a gun. And it was pointed at McGee.

"Tim!" I yelled as I jumped up. I didn't think before pushing him out of the way.

"Y/N!" McGee yelled as I was hit. I fell to the ground, pain flooding my body. I heard a few more gunshots before someone ran to me. He tried to move me but I let out a pained scream.

"Y/N! McGee!"

I looked over to see Gibbs and Tony running toward us. "Y/N's been hit," McGee rushed out the second they got to us.

"Where?" Gibbs asked as he knelt next to me.

"My side," I whimpered.

"DiNozzo, cover us. McGee, we got to get Y/N out of here," Gibbs instructed as he tore off his jacket.

Gibbs helped me sit up. He threw my arm around his shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist. I gasped in pain when he used his hand to hold his crumbled-up jacket over the bullet wound. McGee wrapped my free arm around his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around my waist.

I bit my lip to hold in the pain when they pulled me to my feet. My legs instantly gave out causing Gibbs and McGee to tighten their hold on me.

"Hang on, Y/L/N," McGee said as they started carrying me out of the building. Gibbs and McGee instantly covered me when the gunshots got closer. When they had an opening, Gibbs and McGee continued to rush me out.

Soon, we got to the car. McGee and Gibbs slowly lowered me into the backseat.

"Go back and help DiNozzo," Gibbs instructed.

"But boss. . ." McGee stuttered.

"Go," Gibbs cut him off.

"She needs to get to the hospital," McGee finally got out.

"And I will take her," Gibbs sighed. "Go help DiNozzo."

* * * * *

McGee and DiNozzo ran into the hospital waiting room. They searched the room and finally found Gibbs.

"How is she?" McGee asked as they ran over to their boss.

"She's in surgery," Gibbs said. "They promised to give me an update as soon as they have one."

"So what?" DiNozzo scoffed. "We're supposed to just sit here and wait for any news about Y/N?"

"Pretty much," Gibbs shrugged. DiNozzo sat next to Gibbs with an annoyed grunt. McGee tried to sit down but he was too antsy.

"She tried to warn me," McGee mumbled.

"What do you mean?" DiNozzo asked.

"When we were under fire, Y/N noticed something behind us," McGee shook his head. "She kept trying to warn me, but I was focused on something else."

"What were you focused on?" Gibbs asked even though he knew the answer.

"The gunfire coming from in front of us," McGee sighed. "At one point, I pulled Y/N back under cover but. . ."

"You were focused on keeping your coworker safe," Gibbs cut him off. He sat back as he added, "Seems like a good reason to not hear her warning."

The team sat in the hospital waiting room for three hours before they got any word on Y/N's condition.

"Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee instantly jumped up.

"How is she?" Gibbs asked.

"Things started off rough," the doctor said honestly. "The bullet hit one of her kidneys and caused internal bleeding. We, unfortunately, had to remove her kidney but we stopped the bleeding. We are moving her to the ICU until the anesthesia wears off. When she wakes up, there are some tests we need to run before we can move her out of ICU."

"But she's okay, right?" McGee stuttered.

"Yes," the doctor smiled softly. "She'll be here in recovery for a week, maybe two. After she goes home, I would suggest she take it easy for at least a month. I know she's a federal agent but she needs lots of rest."

"And we will make sure she gets it," Gibbs nodded. "Thank you, doc."

"I'll have a nurse come get you when Agent Y/L/N is settled in her room and awake."

The team waited another two hours before a young nurse finally came and got them.

"She's awake," the nurse smiled at the worried NCIS agents. Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee instantly jumped and followed the nurse to the room where they were keeping Y/N.

* * * * *

My head was pounding and my side was on fire. I slowly turned my head when the door opened.

"There's our girl," Gibbs smiled.

"Hey, boss," I said weakly.

"How are you feeling, Y/L/N?" DiNozzo asked me.

"I'm okay," I tried to shrug but instantly gasped in pain.

"Take it easy," Gibbs said as he helped me lay back down. "Relax, Y/N. Just rest."

"Did you get them?" I asked through my teeth as the pain slowly subsided.

"We got all shooters but. . ."

"The one who shot me," I sighed.

"What can you tell us about your shooter?" Gibbs asked.

"Boss," McGee stuttered. "She just woke up. Don't you think she should rest?"

"It's just a few questions. I can handle it. The shooter was a sniper, Gibbs. I didn't see his face. Just the gun pointed at McGee." I paused when the image popped back into my head. I cleared my throat and forced myself to continue, "Abby have the bullet they pulled out of me?"

"She does," Gibbs said, letting out a small chuckle. "She's running it and will call when she gets a hit."

"If she gets a hit," I mumbled. "This wasn't your average gang shootout, boss. I keep going through it in my head. If I hadn't pushed McGee out of the way, it would've been a kill shot. Right through his heart. But I also thought that McGee shouldn't have been the target."

"What do you mean?" McGee asked.

"You had no idea the guy was there," I continued. "But I did. He should've shot at me, not you. I could've given away his position."

"The point, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asked.

"He's a sniper, Gibbs," I explained, "but he didn't notice me notice him. So let me ask you; what sniper isn't aware of his surroundings?"

"An amateur," he said slowly.

"That's good news, right?" DiNozzo asked hesitantly.

"No," Gibbs sighed. "It's not. DiNozzo, I want you to put extra agents outside Y/L/N's room until we figure out what's going on. McGee, dig deeper into this so-called gang. I want to know everyone they talk to and everything they talk about. Y/N, you get some rest and if anything happens, you call me and I will be here as soon as possible."

Gibbs kissed me on the forehead before he and DiNozzo left. My heart sank when McGee stayed behind.

"I'm okay," I said softly.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice barely audible.

"I'm sure," I chuckled. We sat like that for an awkward beat before McGee cleared his throat.

"I should get back to work," he said. "Call if you need anything."

"Hey," I said as I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "Go find this son of a bitch."

My breath got caught in my throat when he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

"I promise."

* * * * *

As the team hunted down the sniper, I stayed at the hospital. I eventually was cleared to leave the ICU and get settled in a normal room. The team kept me updated and under guard. I sat up a little straighter when I saw McGee talking to the agents outside.

"Did you just send away my security?" I teased him as he walked in.

"You don't need it anymore."

"You caught the guy?"

"We did," he nodded.

"That's wonderful," I said, letting out a sigh of relief. I paused when I saw the look on McGee's face. "What's wrong?"

"It should've been me," McGee sighed.

"What?" I stuttered. "Tim. . .

"The sniper should've shot me. I should've taken that bullet and been rushed into surgery. Not you," he said.

"Agent McGee," I tried to get him to look at me. "I don't regret taking that bullet, Tim."

"But. . ."

"To be honest, I didn't even have to think about it," I shrugged. "I saw a gun pointed at you, so I reacted."

I gasped when McGee grabbed my face and pressed his lips gently to mine. I reached up, grabbed his wrists, and kissed him back. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"Please don't ever do that again," he begged.

"What?" I teased as we leaned back a little more. "You don't want me to save your life?"

"Not if it means risking your life," he said softly.

"Tim. . ."

"I mean it," he gently cut me off. "I don't want you risking your life to protect me."

"But that's what we do, Tim," I shrugged. "We have each other's backs. We watch out for each other."

"That doesn't mean you have to put my life ahead of yours," he sighed.

"I put your life ahead of mine and you put my life ahead of yours," I teased. "It balances out."

"That's not how it works, Y/L/N," he said, giving me a teasing glare. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He grabbed my face, deepening the kiss.

"Fine," he broke the kiss. "But next time, at least get yourself out of the way too."

[vague-humanoid]

Two years after an attackershot five volunteers before aBlack Lives Matter march in Portland, Oregon,killing a 60-year-old woman and leaving one of her young friends paralyzed,a new visual investigation of the attack revealsthat the assailant tried to provoke a stand-your-ground situation, daring three women to fight him, before suddenly opening fire when they refused.

The research agency Forensic Architecture collaborated with survivors on a reconstruction of the attack, analyzing helmet-camera video recorded by one of the victims, police radio traffic obtained through public records requests, and the testimony of 11 witnesses – including the volunteer armed guard who stopped the rampage by shooting and disarming the gunman.

The accumulated evidence flatly contradicts what Portland’s police chief told the public and city council staff in the days after the attack: that the gunman, 43-year-old Ben Smith, had opened fire only after he had been confronted by “armed protesters”.

That false characterization of the unarmed victims as aggressors, which was repeated in dozens of local and national news reports, remains uncorrected on the website of the Portland police bureau (PPB) even today, as the survivors mark the second anniversary of Smith murdering their friend, June Knightly.

@chrisdornerfanclub

[ur-mag]

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court | In Trend Today

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[alpha-mag-media]

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court | In Trend Today

Boxing coach Pete Taylor was shot after he ‘made a charge’ at gunman who opened fire in gym, witnesses tell court Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[simping-for-joe]

Before I Put Another Notch in My Lipstick Case

Leon Kennedy X Agent! Reader

You and Leon are on a routine mission, as routine as it can be for you two.

(Title based on the song "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" by Pat Benatar)

A/N: I've been wanting to write something with an agent reader but like wanted to do my own thing. So it is based on an AU of my OC, where you're more of a tech specialist over combat-focused. Also, this is also my agenda of Leon's partner not being called Condor Two. This was just a fun thing for me to write honestly.

"Check-in, how's it going sparrow one?" Leon's voice comes into your ear.

"Better if you didn't keep interrupting." You reply, your fingers moving quickly on the keyboard. Focused on the task at hand, shutting down security and getting the information you need. "Besides aren't you supposed to make sure no one gets suspicious."

"Can't I just check in?" He asks with a slightly amused tone in his voice.

"Without causing trouble? Never," you say but you can't help the smile forming on your lips as you speak with him.

"Just making sure you don't need your muscle yet." He jokes causing a light snort from you.

"Trust me, you'll be the first one to know if I do. Sparrow one, out,"

Leon rolls his eyes as you shut off your radio, but he smiles to himself. He looks around him, adjusting his suit jacket yet again. This was the worst part of this mission, the disguise, and the waiting.

You two have been a team for a little over a year now, you handled all the tech stuff and he usually did all the suplexing and shooting people. You made a good team, even if Leon was against it at the beginning.

Leon picks up a glass of champagne from a tray when he spots the man they are after. Mr. Monroe, he was once an Umbrella scientist and seemed to back up to his old tricks. That's when he notices a security guard coming up to him and whispering something in his ear.

"Sparrow one, come in." He immediately whispers into his radio. "Everything okay there?"

"Affirmative, why?" You reply quickly.

"Security just approached the target." He replies in a worried tone. .

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah really." You think for a moment trying to think of what is the next best course of action. "Do you need me down there?" He asks you, concern clear in his voice.

"No, I'm fine." However, you were shut down when you heard a door open behind you. "Damn it, uh call you."

"Wait!" You shut off your radio and he groans out annoyed. He shakes his head and rushes to get to the basement. "I'm gonna kill them." He whispers to himself.

You hide behind servers as gunfire is rained on you. When they stop to reload, you return fire. However, you have only just a handgun on you, and you are better trained with a rifle than this kind of situation. You duck back behind cover to reload when the gunshots stop suddenly, you peak from your spot to see Leon standing there.

"Day going well?" He asks with a smirk, as you roll your eyes.

"You know, the daily grind." You place a hand on your hip as you look at him.

"Get through security?" He asks you as you approach the computer again.

"Are you doubting my skills?" You reply looking at him.

"Never," he replies softly and fondly. Heat rises in your cheeks but you move forward trying to brush it off. You clear your throat and try to ignore the warmer your cheeks.

"So um, I got a look at a map of this place and I think I found Monroe’s little secrets." You pull out a USB drive and show it to him.

"Nice work." He replies with a smile, looking at you. Your blush gets worse and you look at him.

"Thanks... Leon... I-" Before you can say more you shout out in pain, a sudden shot to your shoulder.

"No!" Leon grabs you and points his gun at the gunman.

"I-I'm okay..." You assure Leon despite groaning in pain. Monroe smirks as he looks at both of you, think he’s gotten the upper hand by injuring you.

"It seems the DSO finally decided to strike, took you buffoons long enough." The man laughs with a smirk.

"God... you sound like a Saturday morning villain." You groan out despite the pain. Leon can't help but snort as he makes an offended noise.

"I wouldn't sound so cocky being shot!" He replies with his lip upturned.

"I wouldn't sound so cocky when you pissed off Leon Kennedy." You point out to him, as Leon cracks his knuckles and takes out his handgun.

Monroe surrendered and the DSO arrived to deal with the rest. You were getting your shoulder treated when Leon walked up.

"Your shoulder going to be okay?" He asks softly leaning against the vehicle you were getting treated in.

"Yeah, just need some rest they said." You reply softly with a shrug of your shoulders. "Thanks..." You add on.

"No need to thank me, you're my partner... you're important to me you know?" He brings up, his cheeks a faint red when he says that. "Sorry... that was probably too much… just you know forget-“

You suddenly grabbed him by the front of his suit jacket and kissed him passionately. He was left speechless his eyes wide as his cheeks heated up further. Your lips formed a smirk as you looked at him.

"I think I like this look on you."

[girlactionfigure]

IDF troops and medics are responding to reports of shooting at the Tayasir checkpoint in the northern West Bank near the Palestinian town of the same name.

According to an initial IDF probe of this morning's shooting attack, the Palestinian gunman managed to sneak up to a military post at a checkpoint near the West Bank village of Tayasir, where he opened fire on troops just before 6 a.m.

The assailant was armed with an M-16 assault rifle and two magazines, and wearing a tactical vest.

The IDF's probe has found that the gunman approached the army post on foot undetected, where he surprised two soldiers who were getting up to open the Tayasir checkpoint for Palestinian traffic.

The soldiers, who were in full military gear, exchanged fire with the gunman at a close range at the entrance to the post, which includes a watchtower.

Amid exchanges of fire that lasted several minutes, the gunman managed to enter the post itself and reach the entrance to the watchtower.

A backup team then arrived at the scene and opened fire on the gunman from outside the army post, causing him to flee. 

During the gunman's attempts to run away from the post, one soldier hurled a grenade at him, and others opened fire, killing the assailant.

Two IDF reservists were killed and eight were wounded in this morning's shooting attack at an army post near the northern West Bank village of Tayasir, the military announces.

One of the slain troops is named as Sgt. Maj. (res.) Ofer Yung, 39, a squad commander in the Ephraim Regional Brigade’s 8211th Reserve Battalion, from Tel Aviv.

The IDF says the name of the second soldier will be released later today.

In the attack this morning, a Palestinian gunman managed to sneak up to the IDF post next to the Taysir checkpoint and open fire on soldiers. The assailant exchanged fire with troops for several minutes inside the post, before being killed while trying to flee.

Of the eight wounded soldiers, two are in listed in serious condition and six are lightly hurt, the IDF adds.

May his memory forever be a blessing. 🕯️Another soldier was murdered in the terror attack, but their name has not yet been cleared for publication.