#if john had just left south carolina......

[papers-pamphlet]

I feel like the term "star-crossed lovers" really does fit Lams

Two men from two completely opposite paths meet, and in that one single moment they kick off an immediate connection. They become "friends". They confide in each other. They stay by each other's side, and when they aren't, they send each other letters written with such affection and devotion to each other.

It lasts for six years

Six years of love, devotion,

And then suddenly, it's all gone.

One is gone, and the other is forced to go his own way

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (5): I Hope I Don't Lose You

a/n: THE SEXUAL TENSION IS PARTIALLY BROKEN. let us all rejoice! light smut ahead but so worth it for these two to finally make each other cum, okay? this should mean inbox is open for sexy times discussions. i promise cass will let john love her soon, she is just scared, ok? they have their first fight but we will survive. standing by to chat//accept blurbs and asks and prompts. love you guys xoxo

warnings: smut

Cass was at a table in the corner of the social club when John and Curt entered. She had skipped out on interrogation, more curious about the envelope Mary had said had come for her marked as urgent from Washington. In it was the identity of the new Commanding Officer for the 100th Bomber Group, slated to arrive the next day. It was none other than Colonel Chick Harding. 

She had met Chick Harding in London on her way to Thorpe Abbotts. Her first test as a field officer was to conduct a suitability assessment of a RAF officer one of her colleagues at the embassy was hoping to turn into a source. Cass had been making great progress, her nerves fading the longer she realized she was good at this, when Colonel Harding had made his presence known. 

Since she was a teenager, Cass was used to men of all ages flirting with her. Remarking on her dress or her hair or her smile. It always made her feel icky but her older sister told her it was the price for being pretty. Harding had flirted with her, hadn’t tried to hide it, but it was different. Not forceful. Not relentless. Not like he was trying to use his rank to convince her of a certain outcome. After the circumstances under which she had left South Carolina, the attention had been welcome. Reminded her she wasn’t soiled goods. She knew it couldn’t be more than that and was on her way to her flat for the night when the Colonel had slipped a piece of paper into her hand. It made her laugh, the instructions on where she would be able to find him after the party. She hadn’t used them but they had made her feel giddy. And now it looked like Colonel Harding was set to become a more permanent presence in her life. 

“You’re looking particularly pensive tonight.” She looked up from the packet at the sound of John’s voice, a glass bottle of Coke placed in front of her and two rocks glasses of whiskey placed across from her. 

“Huglin’s been relieved of his command. Just reading some background on the new Colonel.” He pressed a thumb to the crease between her eyebrows to smooth it out. 

“No talk of work,” he muttered as he leaned in for a kiss. She obliged him gently and let him pull her off the chair. “You know I love this song.” 

“You love every song,” she giggled as he led her into a spin. He caught her against his chest and shared in her laugh.

“With you as my partner, how couldn’t I?” Their lips met halfway and he lifted her slightly to save the strain of going on her tippy toes. “I always ask you to dance but somehow we always get distracted from the actual dancing.”

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people. Handsome men in particular.” 

“Ah, you talk to a lot of handsome men recently?” He dropped her into a dip playfully. 

“I’m surrounded by them but one in particular…one in particular has caught my eye.” Her forehead rested against the side of the neck as he pulled her back up. 

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever met. Has this little curl that falls onto his forehead that drives me crazy. Says things he means and makes me feel…,” she swallowed thickly and John nodded. He was giving her permission to say it. Validating that it was true. “Loved.” The sound of the band and the bartender pouring drinks and the white noise of conversation faded into the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

“Cass,” he started, ready to say those three words. Once and for all get them off his chest and into the atmosphere. Relieve himself of the burden of knowledge and hopefully accept hers in return.

“Not yet.” He froze and took a step back at her words. “I know you tried the other night and I just opened the door again but not yet.” Not when the other paper in that folder had said what they had. That she was selected for an operation into Berlin. An operation that had been unsuccessful three previous times. An operation where the last agent had come home draped in an American flag.

“Right. You say all those things and I’m just supposed to keep suffocating on my own words.” He backed away from her, Cass not used to this sense of dread in her chest. “You know, emotions aren’t inherently dangerous. You’re allowed to have them, Lieutenant.” She almost recoiled from the use of her rank. He downed his two previous glasses with ease and moved towards the bar to refill them.

“John, it’s for good reason. Trust me,” she pleaded as she reached for his arm. 

“I’m sure it’s too classified for someone like me. I’m not worth the risk, right?” 

“What? I’ve brought you in as much as I could! Shared everything with you-” One more glass of whiskey went down his throat. “You were the one I asked for when I got off that plane. The one I reached for because I knew you would make me feel safe.” A single tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with anger. Another whiskey as he clenched his fist at the memory. 

“That feeling I had running towards you. That feeling I had when that son of a bitch got in the way of reaching you.” He brought her hand to rest flat against his chest. “The way I felt when you told me I was yours. That is what is trapped in here, Cass. That is what you aren’t letting me express to you.”

“If you do, and something happens to me, I’ll never forgive myself.” John was Air Exec. He’d be safe on the ground, in a control tower, locked away in an office to wait out this war. He had an after. Cass wasn’t so sure she was guaranteed the same. 

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I got my next field assignment.” She didn’t elaborate any further but he thinks he was reading the implications behind her eyes. 

“When do you leave?” he relented. He regretted spending even a second angry with her now. Regretted being the cause of her tears. Wanted to spend the rest of the night apologizing. 

“Soon. They are sending me with a partner for this one, waiting for his arrival.” Cass hugged her arms around herself. She felt cold. Something missing between her and John that had been there earlier in the night. A distance between them she wasn’t used to and didn’t like.

“You going to say goodbye this time?” His fingers twitched to reach out and touch her but it felt wrong. Like the tether between them had snapped and needed more than the setting had to offer to fix it. 

“Never goodbye. A see you soon.” John looked up at the ceiling with a pitiful laugh. 

“Fuck, Cass, what are we going to do? A flyboy and a spook. We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

“I vaguely remember asking if you were a hotshot the first time I met you.”

“Only one of us has ended up in the medical wing.” Cass snorted and looked away from his analytical gaze. “I’m sorry.” There was a lot left unsaid but it was a start. She opened her mouth to respond when Curt’s voice echoed across the bar.

“Bucky! Round on me, let’s go!” 

“I’ll be over in a minute!” He wanted to fix things first. Get back to where they were at the beginning of the night.

“Go. I’ll catch up with you later.” She was reminded that the 100th had lost more than a few men that day and they were there to mourn them in the first place.

“You sure?” She nodded, John leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Cass gripped his chin before he could pull away.

“Kiss me properly, Major.” He grinned wickedly, his heart returning to it’s normal rhythm, surging forward to oblige her request. It was hungry and all consuming, frantic and frenzied. John pushed her hair over her shoulder to get a better grip around her cheek and groaned as her hands slid up the front of his chest with a deliberately slow pace. They only separated when the whistles pierced through the veil, John going back in for one, two, three more pecks to her lips before he fully pulled away. 

“Does that work?” Her lip slipped between her teeth and she nodded.

“Until later.” His knuckles brushed against her cheek longingly before he disappeared to the other end of the bar with his men. Cass grabbed her folder from the table and disappeared out the back door, ready to retire for the night. A couple hours of sleep would do her and emotionless heart some good.

----

She woke before the sun, the look in John’s eyes seared into her memory. Maybe it wasn’t worth trying to stop him from saying he loved her anymore. Maybe her worry about breaking his heart was misplaced. Cass thinks he would be strong enough to handle it. The longer he was out here, the better he would get at compartmentalizing his emotions. The losses for the 100th had only just begun. She didn’t know how she was supposed to watch him wear them. 

Cass needed some fucking air. Hopeful the cold would shock her back into her usual, even keeled self, she slipped her silk robe over her nightgown and stuck her feet into her boots before finding her way outside. She wasn’t surprised to hear voices, assuming Lemmons and his men were up early to work on the planes, but she recognized them with a furrowed brow as she got closer and two figures on top of the plane came into focus. Clearly it had ended up being more than one round. 

“Do you feel anything?” That was John. He was holding a bottle of whiskey and his uniform jacket was billowing in the breeze.

“Yeah, I miss those guys,” Curt responded.

“I don’t feel a thing anymore. Unless I’m with Spook.” He smiled wistfully. “With her, I feel everything.”

“She’s good for you. She’s keeping you sane out here.”

“Driving me insane more like it.” He needed to snap out of it. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“I want you to hit me. I want you to land one right on my beak.” She considered stepping in but was curious to see this play out.

“Major-”

“Don’t give me ‘Major.’” He threw his jacket to the ground. “Ranks off.”

“Stop horsing around.”

“Horsing around? I’m not a horse.” Cass watched him goad and goad Curt until his fist snapped forward and John’s hands flew to his nose.

“Bet you felt that.” She emerged from her hiding spot behind the tail of the plane and John smiled. 

“Lieutenant Cooper, can I trust him in your hands for the rest of the night?” Curt hopped down from the wing as she nodded. A kiss on his cheek as a thank you and he was off to try and catch a few moments of sleep. 

“Baby, come up here.” He moved to the edge and gripped under her arms, lifting her onto the wing of the plane with an ease that had her feeling warm in the cool early morning air. “What’re you doing out here?” John nuzzled his nose against hers lovingly. It had only been a few hours but he had missed her.

“Going for a walk when I heard a couple of hooligans and decided to check it out in spite of my best judgment.”

“This hooligan never got the chance to properly apologize to you earlier.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Her hands rested against his chest and she looked up at him with adoration. “I shouldn’t have shut you down. Losing you scares me more than I know how to say and I’m not used to being scared.” Or used to being in love for that matter.

“My little Spook,” he traced his thumb along her bottom lip, “you don’t have to have your armor up around me.”

“I’m working on it. Just have to be patient with me.” Cass welcomed his kiss and recognized the pleasant ache that was settling between her legs. This man was making her feel things no other had in more ways than one.

“You take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” Call it the effects of alcohol or lack of sleep but John was feeling weightless. Like if he didn’t have her right then and there, he’d float away. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Testing the waters, she undid the knot of his tie. He watched in a daze as his mind tried to catch up with what he thinks she was asking. She tossed it in the same direction he had thrown his jacket. 

“John,” she cooed as his mouth watered at her robe slipping off one of her shoulders. “I need you.” 

“Tell me where you need me.” Her frustrated groan was swallowed by his kiss, his hands slipping from the small of her back to grab at her ass, his lips moving to latch onto her neck with the goal of leaving a mark. 

“Need you everywhere,” she gasped as his tongue soothed over the blossoming accessory he had added to her throat. Cass moved his hand to the hem of her night gown and guided it up and up until his fingertips met her hip bones. He moaned into her kiss as his fingertips teased along the top band of her underwear, tracing down the front of them until he found the spot that made her hips buck.

“Ah, right there?” John removed his hand and caught her as she collapsed into his chest. “I’m going to take care of you, baby, promise. Just not out here.” He jumped down from the wing, reaching to lift her down after him. As soon as her feet hit the ground, her lips were back on his and her fingers were undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“When I said be patient with me I didn’t mean at a glacial pace,” she quipped. He laughed, one thumb stroking over her pulse point in her neck and the other hand pushing her robe off her arms the rest of the way.

“You know how to climb into a B-17 or do you need a hand?”

“I think I’ve made it very clear I need your hand.” She stepped towards the open hatch and gripped the edge before tucking her feet in line with her head and landing in the hull. John can’t deny he got a little harder at the sight. He followed suit and welcomed her into his lap with no reservations now that they were away from any potential prying eyes. 

“A dream come fucking true,” he whispered as she stradled him and he got a good look at her. Chest flushed. Hair wild. Nightgown strap slipping down her arm. John hooked a finger under it and slowly helped it the rest of the way, goosebumps sparking on her breasts as they were exposed to his gaze. “Beautiful.” His lips latched around one nipple, her breath catching and back arching to press further into his touch. 

“That feels good.” Her voice had an edge to it that drove him wild. His tongue was soft as it lavished against her and her blood rushed between her legs at the thought of what it would feel like there. Where she needed him the most. John hummed as they popped out of his mouth like a lollipop. 

“Been dreaming about having you like this,” he whispered as she nipped at his bottom lip. “Dreaming about what was under that lace in your office that day. About the sounds you make when I kiss you…right…here,” his lips attaching to the spot on her throat in question and the moans that gave him a reason to live were music to his ears. And he hadn’t even gotten her sleepwear off yet.

“What else have we been doing in your dreams?” she asked as they kissed languidly. John pressed forward until she was laid gently on her back and her knees fell to the side to accommodate him. He shrugged off his button up and lifted his undershirt over his head, Cass sitting up to kiss across his chest before using his dog tags to pull him back down with her. 

“Going to take more than one night to show you.”

“Good,” she smiled sweetly in direct contrast to the sinful state she was in, “I was hoping to keep you around for a little while.” He started at her lips and worked his way down to gently tug her nipples with his teeth before bunching her nightgown at her waist and settling where he had left off on the wing of the plane.

“You always sleep in these delicate, little things?” Of course John had thought about ravishing her. Thought about what she would look like in a thin, silk nightgown in the moonlight. Thought about what might be underneath it. If anything. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He would. Desperately. But he settled for kissing the skin where it met the lace, Cass squirming at the affection. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked without looking up. The tip of his nose found the spot from earlier, a smirk lighting his face.

“Fuck, John, yes. Yes, I always dress up for bed.” There was something domestic about the notion that tickled a satisfying corner of his soul. He liked learning the nooks and crannies of her. Liked the idea of getting to know her routines and habits. Of learning how to merge their lives together.

“I like that. Easy to see how wet you are.” John pressed his thumb to the front of her panties and circled slowly and gently. “Look at me.” Cass propped herself onto her elbows and reached to push the curl that had fallen onto his forehead back into its place. 

“I’m looking and I like what I see.” Flushed and drunk on love, John Egan looked like he was exactly where he belonged. He pressed harder with a cheshire cat grin as her head dropped back.

“I like what I see too, gorgeous.” The lace slid down her legs slowly and his lips followed down, the undergarment over his shoulder and forgotten, then back up so no inch of her skin was left untouched. 

“John Egan, an attentive lover,” she teased. 

“Only for you.” Only for the girl he was in love with. Thinks he loved her the moment he saw her. Knew he would love her forever. “Are you going to behave?”

“Not if you make me wait-” Her words faded into a sigh as he finally flicked his tongue against her. His hands hooked over her thighs, he spread her open as he coaxed sounds of heaven from her mouth and a sensual writhing of her hips. 

“Taste like a fucking goddess,” he groaned, dipping a finger into her as her breaths came quicker. 

“John.” God, he could fucking die at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth like that. A second finger. “Fuck.”

“You going to cum for me?” He rested his cheek against her thigh and admired the view. He wanted to sear this moment into his memory. The moment he saw her with no walls. Completely vulnerable. Trusting him with seeing her like this. This version of her was the one he was fighting for. The one he would die for.

“Only for you,” she said, echoing his earlier statement. Promising he was the only one who would be with her in this way. Promising a forever of nights like this. John understood the sentiment as it settled in his chest. 

“My pretty, pretty girl,” he cooed before his lips closed around her clit and pushed her over the edge. His hands pressed down on her hips to keep her from escaping his mouth as she came with a call of his name and a tug of his hair. She shivered as he kissed the insider of her thigh, between her breasts and onto her lips. “Did so good, baby.”

“Who would’ve thought. A flyboy and a spook.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as her hand moved towards his belt buckle, his hand on her wrist stopping her.

“Who said I was done with you?” And if Cass called his name into the night a few more times before the sun rose, that was between them and the moon. And if John learned her tongue could charm a sinful symphony from his lips, that was between them and the stars. And if Ken Lemmons stumbled upon their discarded clothes and folded them neatly by the wheel while they slept in each other’s arms, only the sun and the clouds needed to know. And if John woke before her and held her tighter and kissed her forehead with a promise and a prayer, a promise to protect her and love her and a prayer that he would have the opportunity to do so, well that was between him and the man upstairs. John Egan just hoped He was listening.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Real quick, just want to say I’m so happy that so many people seem to like this little story so far! Here’s a longer chapter for ya.~

Word Count: 4,300 Warnings: Mentions of anxiety. Language.

Part 2: Connection

Dean honestly didn’t remember that snowy day when he was seventeen with much clarity. Or that sad, anxious feeling in his chest.

Not until six years later, anyway.

It was only a few months after Sam left for college, and left his older brother behind. Well, he’d left John too, but he was the one who gave Sam the ultimatum in the first place.

If you leave, don’t you dare come back.

So Dean struggled to be okay with that while he and John were on another hunt in South Dakota. There was a short but significant string of murders in Vermillion, about an hour away from Sioux Falls.

“Too bad Bobby couldn’t make it,” Dean said. He and John were researching the case at the closest library—over at the University of South Dakota. This one was huge, with multiple floors and new computers.

I guess this is what nerds like Sammy dream about, Dean thought.

“Yeah, could’ve used the manpower. But he’s got his own hunt over in South Carolina somewhere,” John said. His voice was gruff with tiredness. They’d driven for about a week straight, slowly but surely getting farther from the west coast.

“So this thing eats hearts. That could still be a lot of things,” Dean said. He gestured at the small pile of books between them at their table. John had been jotting something down in the autopsy report they’d stolen. He then turned it Dean’s way and tapped his finger on the puncture wounds.

“Those look canine,” John said.

Dean’s browed crunched. “Werewolf? It’s not a full moon.”

His dad shook his head. “Similar, but different. If I’m right, all we need is a couple silver bullets. After we track this thing down.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Dean grinned at his own pun. “What is it?”

John smirked. “It’s a skinwalker.”

That rung some kind of bell, but Dean would be hard-pressed to remember what made a skinwalker different from a werewolf. He hadn’t encountered one before, but after he killed it, he’d be sure to remember.

John explained how skinwalkers were actually a lot like werewolves: they could infect people with a single bite, they liked their burger meat raw (as in, fresh human hearts), and more importantly, silver could kill them.

Though unlike their lunar-dependent cousins, skinwalkers could shapeshift into their animal form whenever they wanted. And that didn’t limit to canines.

“But in this case,” John said, pointing again at the autopsy pictures, “I’d say we got us a dirty dog.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, so how do we find him?”

“What do the vics have in common?”

They started pouring over the police reports of the five victims. John took out a map of the city and made notes on the location where each body was found.

This was the part Sam was hella good at. Dean enjoyed the Magnum P.I. aspect of it, but sitting here in a dusty library for hours was going to be a severe test of his patience.

He tried to focus on the reports, and he actually noticed that one of the victims was a college student—here at South Dakota University. Another one was a bartender, and the bar was only a couple of blocks down the road.

Interesting.

He shuffled through the papers to find the third victim and felt something nagging in the back of his mind—an annoying buzz that made his brows knit together. He was already feeling a bit restless sitting here, his knee bouncing in place and rattling the table a bit.

John looked up at him. “What’s the matter?”

Dean blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“You’re shaking the table.”

Dean forced his knee to stop. But that was when he felt it—a growing sense of frustration and anxiety blooming in his chest.

What the hell? he thought. He was perfectly fine a few minutes ago. Why did it feel like it was getting hard to breathe?

“Dean.” John looked at his son a bit harder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered quickly. “Fine…I’m gonna find a bathroom.”

He tried to be normal as he got up and left the table, but at soon as he was out of eye-shot of his dad, he made swifter strides towards the nearest bathroom. He went to the sink and splashed some water across his face to wake himself up. God, why’m I so freakin’ tired?

He took slow, deep breaths to calm down. Even though his mind was racing with what the fuck, what the fuck.

He wiped his face with some paper towel and realized his hands were shaking. Was he sick or something? He knew that Taco Bell breakfast burrito was too good to be true—

That’s it. Wake the hell up. I can’t fail this damn final!

That. That was not his thought.

“What the fuck?” Dean couldn’t help saying it out loud, just to make sure he could still speak normally.

He stared at his own shocked face in the mirror.

Then finally, he knew.   

He knew what these symptoms were, because while he’d ignored that chapter of social studies, Sam had always been an avid student. Truth be told, Dean hadn’t really wanted to learn that subject. It was the reason he didn’t like thinking about their mom. And the reason why their dad barely spoke about her.

But Dean knew what happened when soulmates started getting close to one another for the first time.

Dean was feeling his freaking soulmate, and it was scaring the hell out of him.

Suddenly he could feel the bond. It was like a humming thread in his mind, an itch he wanted to scratch. If he just reached out the slightest bit, he could touch it. He could connect with whoever it was on the other line.

He could…or he could just leave it for a while until he figured out what he was even going to say, let alone do if someone answered him back.

So he did what most twenty-three year old men would do when faced with a potentially life-changing bond of commitment and…feelings.

He shoved it down and ran.

Well, not literally ran, but he was quick to leave the bathroom and return to his dad.

“Finally. What the hell took you so long?” John asked. He was already gathering their stuff together to leave.

Dean felt pinned by his dad’s gaze, but he did his best to play it smooth.

“Uh, sorry. Breakfast burrito hit me sideways. Then there was no toilet paper in the stall and I had to climb under and—”

John grimaced and held up a hand to stop him. “All right. Let’s just go.”

Dean let out a relieved breath. He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and followed his dad out of the library, back to the Impala. He climbed into the passenger seat and took a swig of an old soda to steady himself.

He still felt her anxiety in his chest (at least, he hoped it was a her). Maybe she was having a rough day…but once he remembered what she’d said in his head, he wanted to slap a hand to his forehead.

You idiot. She’s studying for a test, he thought. She’s probably a student here.

That realization made him smirk. Aw, yeah. College girl, huh?

Though that thought was followed by a dousing shower of reality.

Oh shit. The thing we’re hunting just ate a college freshman.

“Dean, what’s the matter with you? You lost in space over there?” John asked. It punctured the bubble of Dean’s internal world and made him sharpen to attention.

“Nah, I’m fine. Where’re we headed?”

John scrutinized him a bit longer, but at Dean’s stubbornness, he seemed to let it go for now.

“To find this thing,” he said. “I narrowed down its hunting grounds and called the local animal control. They’ve been getting reports of people hearing a stray dog barking, but no one’s seen him.”

Dean nodded and settled back into his seat. Just focus on the hunt, he told himself. Deal with the rest after.

You were having a phenomenally shitty day.

Well, you supposed that was nothing new. You were twenty years old, still not old enough to legally drink but old enough to have adult bills and adult stress to go along with it. So you were also broke.

And you were halfway through a degree in history. A degree that your father repeatedly told you was “impractical” to earn a decent living with. Which wasn’t even true.

…Okay, maybe that was a little bit true. But you liked history, and you could easily fall into Mom’s footsteps and become a teacher.

You could work for a museum. You could become a world-renowned historian, or write an award-winning historical fantasy like Game of Thrones and make millions off the TV deal!

…Okay, most likely it was probably going to the teacher thing, but at least you still had dreams.

Your dad only believed in what he could see right in front of his narrow-minded face.

Your dad was a dream killer.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him that on the phone just now, but you were fuming, damn it. This wasn’t what you needed on finals week. Especially because you had an insane Calculus final to cram for, and only a few hours to do it. You needed to get back to your part-time job at the coffee shop by three. Unfortunately, you were closing tonight.

First, you needed a pick-me-up before you headed to the library.

Sighing, you rubbed the silver ring on your right hand absently as you waited in line at the university’s café. The ring had been your mom’s, and now it was yours. On most days, it gave you comfort; just that little bit of extra support to get you through.  

Eventually, you got to the front of the line and rattled off your coffee order while still looking up at the menu board: extra-large black coffee with a turbo shot, four sugars. When your gaze slid down and met the guy ringing you up, your brain stuttered to a halt.

“Okay, got it. One ‘Turbo Cram Session’ coming up,” he said. He gave you a charming, friendly grin. With his hazel eyes and tan skin, he was a rare find in a midwestern town like this. His brown hair was long, brushing past his shoulders. He almost reminded you of a character from the cheesy vampire book your teen cousin Lily was obsessed with.

Regardless, he was attractive.

A nervous flutter in your stomach made you smile back. “Thanks.”

You paid the overly expensive bill and watched him make your coffee.

“Finals week, right?” he commiserated.

“Yep.” You sighed and nodded. “Three exams tomorrow, one at eight-in-the-damn-morning.”

He whistled sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s a killer.”

He put the lid on your steaming coffee and handed it to you. His fingers brushed your hand when you took the to-go cup from him, but he hissed a bit and pulled his hand back.

“You okay?” you asked in concern. He glanced at your hand. You toyed with your ring in a nervous habit.

“Yeah, some coffee spilled. No worries,” he said. He flashed you a smile. “If you need to pull an all-nighter, just come back. I can help you mainline the espresso machine.”

He tapped the inside of your wrist and you laughed, playing along. “You’d do that for me?”

“Just for you,” he said with a nod. He pressed a finger to his lips conspiringly. “Keep it quiet, though, or the whole school will be cramming in here like stray cats.”

You laughed again. His nametag read, James.

“Got it. Thanks, James.”

“Call me Jimmy,” he said, giving you a more flirtatious smile.

You left the café with a full-on blush warming your face. When your hands hand brushed, you felt tingles on your skin…but you hadn’t heard his thoughts.

He’s not the one.

Disappointing.

You continued on your path to the library.

You were a bit introverted, mostly keeping to yourself. Your friends were back home in Sioux Falls, so you didn’t really have anyone here, and you didn’t put yourself out there as much as you could. But even when guys did notice you (however few and far between that was), you just couldn’t bring yourself to entertain them. Not if you couldn’t feel them.

Maybe that was a lonely way to go through life. Your friends had certainly told you so. They encouraged you to have fun and explore in college, and part of you wanted to. Another part—the more sensitive part—thought that was just setting yourself up for disappointment.

You wanted something real. Something that would last. Like what your parents had, before…

Whatever. Enough of that. You shook your head to clear your thoughts as you approached the library, but it was hard.

Juggling a full-time college schedule, two part-time jobs, and commuting over an hour every day to school was hard. And your dad wasn’t making it any easier.

All right, stop it. Anxiety was starting to well up in your chest, and you couldn’t afford to battle with it right now.

You went into the library and found your usual spot, practically buried behind the reference books. Finding your favorite work desk, you settled your things there and sipped your coffee. You willed yourself to calm down—to power through that voice in your head that wanted to focus on your problems instead of solutions.

You only had a few hours to plug several complex math equations into your head.

That’s it. Wake the hell up, you thought sternly. I can’t fail this damn final!

With a shaky breath, you cracked open your Calculus book, put on your headphones and some music, and started studying.

A few minutes later, the men’s bathroom door opened with a loud crack and someone quickly walked out of it—right past your table.

You were too deep in your studies and your music to notice. 

Father and son were on the hunt.

John was pretty sure they’d found the skinwalker (in a coffee shop of all places). They just had to wait until the bastard came out.

He and Dean waited in the Impala with Reuben sandwiches to tide them over for the stakeout. John discreetly shot his son a glance.

The boy had been off his game all day, but he couldn’t put his finger on why…

“Hey Dad, where’s Zeppelin IV?” he asked, around a mouthful of Reuben. A smile twitched at John’s lips. He wordlessly retrieved the cassette from the compartment on the driver’s side door and held it up in his hand.

“Hey, why d’you keep it on your side?” Dean asked. “You don’t trust me with your tunes by now? Just like you never let me drive?” 

He was mostly teasing, but maybe there was a thread of truth underneath. John scoffed.

“I don’t let you drive the Impala ‘cause you’re a punk,” he said. He offered Dean the cassette, but just as he was about to grab it, John took it back and popped it into the cassette player himself. He smirked. “Driver picks the music.”

Dean gave him a look, like he wanted to snipe a comeback, but thought better of it. He sat back into his seat.

John took a satisfied bite out of his sandwich.

Oh shit!

You sprung up from your desk in the library, wiping drool from the side of your cheek.

Tell me I didn’t fucking fall asleep!

Sure enough, your Calculus book was cracked open, your half-drunk coffee was cold, and you had all but missed your shift at work. No, no, no!

You dashed around like a mad person trying to collect your books, pens, your phone—everything into your backpack. You had walked here from your dorm, so you were just going to have to run to the coffee shop on foot. You were too broke to take a taxi and the bus would take too damn long.

It was only, what, a mile or two?

Lord help me.

You didn’t have a choice. You just had to run.

“Coffee boy’s clocking out,” Dean observed. He and John climbed out of the Impala. By then it was evening, almost night. The sun dipped behind the clouds and the streetlights were about to come on. Rush hour traffic was heavy here at a four-way intersection.

Dean focused on their target. The guy looked normal—dark hair, tan skin. I guess that’s the idea, Dean thought. Look normal, blend in by slinging watery, overpriced coffee, get your filet o’ human hearts on the side.

When the guy came out of the café, he didn’t walk to a car parked on the street. Instead, he dipped between the café and the university library and went through a back alley.

“Let’s go,” John said, and with their guns loaded up with silver (hidden in their jackets), they hurried across the street and ducked into the alley.

But they didn’t see any trace of the guy. Both retrieved and cocked their guns, moving through the alley slowly.

Dean was usually good at this part. His ex-marine dad had trained him well, and he was focused. Alert.

Until something nagged at the back of his mind. A low hum as that connection flared to life. 

Oh fuck. His lips pursed. A persistent feeling of worry (that wasn’t his own) prickled in his chest, like fire ants across his skin. He tried his best to shut it out.

Not now.

You rushed out the library doors and inwardly bemoaned that it was practically nighttime. You were lucky if you still had a job by the time you got to work.

Damn it! Frustration and worry warred for dominance, but you couldn’t focus on that.

Not now.

You hesitated a moment. A weird feeling fluttered in your chest just then…

Ugh, whatever, you dismissed, shaking your head. I’m insane, it’s fine.

You ran to the street intersection and waited impatiently for the walking light to turn green. 

You looked both ways on the street. It was still red, but there was a window of opportunity in a short lull of cars. You could make it if you hurried.

So you did. You took your chance and ran halfway down the street, making it past the first wave of oncoming traffic. You just didn’t account for the truck that was turning the corner—from the opposite direction.

You had time to utter a scream before you dove for the sidewalk. A woman walking her dog helped you up, asking if you were okay.

You were and you weren’t, really. You were shaking, but you thanked the woman with a trembling smile. At this point, you didn’t care if you were fired. Five bucks an hour wasn’t worth getting splattered on a dusty pavement. 

Damn. Guess I’ll have to apply at Starbucks.

It was intense.

Your fear was like a searing hot knife ripping through Dean’s heart, and it tore a ragged sound from his throat as his knee buckled.

John’s head swiveled to him with wide eyes. “Dean—”

That was the opening their prey was waiting for. Or rather, the creature that was hunting them.

A large dog leapt from the roof of the café—behind and above them. It went for Dean first, biting into his arm through his jacket. Both of them went down as Dean struggled and the animal growled and tried to shred his arm. Dean almost didn’t feel the pain, but he felt panic of his own as he tried to pry the creature off by his canine ears. 

“Dean!”

He looked up at his dad, who stood with his gun aloft. Dean trusted him. He helped give an opening and moved his face away.

Three shots rang out.

The first two killed the skinwalker. The third was just for insurance, and maybe vengeance.

John helped Dean out from under the creature’s body, and they watched it transform back into its natural form. Coffee shop boy.

James, Dean read on his nametag.

“Rest in peace, Cujo,” he quipped, but by now the pain was finally registering. His arm wept with blood through his jacket, and he hissed in pain when his dad put firm pressure on the wound.

“What the fuck happened, Dean?” John demanded. “You got shit between your ears, or a working brain? Because whatever’s got you distracted, that’s how you get killed.”

His father’s anger wasn’t pleasant, but his disappointment was crushing.

Dean swallowed the pain, both physical and…and the rest. He just nodded and apologized.

“Sorry, Dad.”

John shook his head, but he continued leading Dean back to the car.

Back at the motel, John was able to stitch Dean up and wrap his arm. They had planned to leave after the hunt to save money on another motel night…but John agreed to give it one more day to let Dean rest on a real bed.

His son wasn’t just in pain. He was melancholy.

It was unusual for Dean, who normally kept up a decent attitude. And it wasn’t like him to slip up like that on a hunt. John could admit, things were different now without Sam. John was different.

Not that he’d been a picnic before. He knew that much. But maybe Sam leaving was harder than John cared to admit.

After he and Dean were showered up, John brought them back some takeout and beers. He gave Dean one, but before he turned on the TV, he hesitated. A twinge of sorry was at the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he asked, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

His son opened his mouth, a denial ready to fire.

“Don’t lie to me, son,” John said. “Just…tell me what happened today.”

It took a while to pry it out of him. He was resistant, and John expected that.

Dean, for his part, was trying to figure out what to say. How to say it.

Just then, he also remembered something Sam told him when he was only in sixth grade.

“Dean, did you know this? Human souls are really complex, and they’re unique too. We learned about it today in school.”

“Good for you, Super Geek.” 

“They found out that connected souls subconsciously try to find each other. So when you start hearing someone’s thoughts, it’s because the souls are trying to bond together, like molecules.”

Like molecules, huh?

Speaking of, Dean hadn’t heard your thoughts since that terrifying moment when he felt you…

For a moment, he’d thought you’d….

Though deep down, he knew you weren’t gone. He knew the bond was there, like an idle TV. Either you lived really close to this motel, or this HBO connection was getting a wider bandwidth.

“Dean?” John pressed.

Dean looked up, breaking from his thoughts. John didn’t often ask him to open up. But Dean figured if anyone would understand, it would probably be his dad.

He was forced to contemplate the question that had been scaring him all day.

Did he want the same soul bond his parents had, even if it nearly killed John after she died?

“…Dad, how did you and Mom meet?”

The question took John by surprise…but maybe it shouldn’t have. His perceptive gaze washed over Dean.

“It was after I came back from Vietnam,” John said eventually. “We ran into each other by the old movie theater.”

Dean smiled. “Aw, both of you were in line for Jaws?”

A resigned smile quirked at John’s lips. “That was ’75, genius. And no, we…literally ran into each other. Full speed. I went to help her up, but she was already doing it herself. Plus picking up everything that fell outta her bag. All I could do was stare at her like an idiot, ‘cause…I heard her say, God damn it.”

John had been lost in the memory for a moment, but here he looked at Dean.

“But she didn’t say it. She thought it,” he said. “And I knew it was her. She was it for me.”

“And she did too?” Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“No,” John laughed a little. “She took some convincing, if I remember right.”

“What, she couldn’t hear your thoughts?”

“No, she could. But that…connection. It’s different in the beginning,” John said, with a heavy sigh. This was harder to talk about than he thought. For Dean, he would do it. But just this once.

“You don’t have so much control over it. It just kinda…happens.”

“And…how did that work, exactly?” Dean asked.

“Why do you want to know?” John returned. Dean quieted, looking down at his beer.

That was all the confirmation he needed to finally know what was going on. He sighed again.

“Son,” he started, then hesitated. He knew what he was about to say wasn’t completely right, but it was the truth. One day, Dean would understand.

“Son,” he said again. “Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean’s brows knit together, a silent question that he almost didn’t want to ask. John answered it anyway.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody,” he said.

Dean took those words to heart. He reminded himself that his dad had seen blood and war long before he met Mary. Maybe his dad had more regrets than just not being able to save her.

So the next morning, Dean slid into the Impala’s passenger seat. John drove them away from the college town, out of Vermillion, South Dakota.

Dean felt relieved, and also guilty. Then, the farther they got, he just felt wrong.

Soon enough, the warm tendril of connection in his chest dissipated.

AN: Phew! Okay, one major step closer to you and Dean finally meeting. I definitely drew on some of my own experiences at college here lol.

Read on to: Part 3.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[schraubd]

Will Matt Gaetz Finally Cause the Senate GOP To Stand Up To Trump? My Money's On No!

I really thought I'd laid the bar on the floor, but somehow Donald Trump has already burrowed under it by announcing (former*) Florida Congressman Matt Gaetz as his pick for attorney general. I had the pleasure of sharing this news with several of my law school colleagues, where it literally provoked a laugh-out-loud howl of incredulity. It wasn't just my people though. Senate Republicans also seem rather blindsided by the pick: The selection of Mr. Gaetz blindsided many of Mr. Trump’s allies on Capitol Hill. The announcement was met with immediate and unvarnished skepticism by Republicans in the Senate who will vote on his nomination. Senator Susan Collins of Maine said she was “shocked” by the pick — and predicted a difficult confirmation process. [....] Senator John Cornyn, Republican of Texas, when asked about Mr. Gaetz’s selection, said, “I don’t know the man other than his public persona.” Mr. Cornyn said he could not comment on the chances that Mr. Gaetz, or Tulsi Gabbard, Mr. Trump’s pick for director of national intelligence, would be confirmed: “I don’t know — we’ll find out.” “He’s got his work cut out for him,” Senator Joni Ernst, Republican of Iowa, said as other senators dodged questions from reporters. Representative Max Miller, Republican of Ohio, told reporters that many members of the G.O.P. conference were shocked at the choice of Mr. Gaetz for attorney general, but mostly thrilled at the prospect that he might no longer be a member of the chamber. The House, Mr. Miller added, would be a more functional place without Mr. Gaetz. He predicted a bruising confirmation fight, adding that if the process revealed evidence to corroborate the allegations of sex trafficking against Mr. Gaetz, he would not be surprised if the House moved to expel him, as it did with Representative George Santos. Mr. Santos lost his seat after the Ethics Committee documented violations of the chamber’s rules and evidence of extensive campaign fraud.   But things aren't all bad. You'll never guessed who raced ahead of the pack to greet Trump's failson pick with open arms: One of the few lawmakers to offer a positive assessment was a staunch Trump ally, Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, who called Mr. Gaetz “smart” and “clever” but predicted tough confirmation hearings. So, how long will it take for the Senate GOP caucus to fall in line? I'm guessing it'll happen before the first confirmation hearing. (That is, if we have confirmation hearings). Oh, and speaking of organizations that have put their dignity in a lockbox, we did finally learn what bridge is too far for the ADL, which blistered the Gaetz selection because of his "long history of trafficking in antisemitism," including "defending the Great Replacement Theory." How he's distinguished from the ADL's glowingly-praised Elise Stefanik, who also promoted Great Replacement Theory, was left unsaid. * Gaetz hastily resigned his seat following the announcement, also getting ahead of a planned House Ethics Committee report that was set to issue findings on Gaetz's myriad, er, "controversies" -- including allegations of sex trafficking minors. Score one for QAnon! via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/WqtsjKg

[presidentkittycherk]

okayy everyone so heres my very poorly written hamilton 70s au plot.....

please dont mind my writing im very bashful but i wanted to get it out for @x-fag ... also a big thank you to @hamilfreak for brainstorming and helping with ideas :]

A very basic timeline of events

1973-johnmovesto town, gets job at store

1974-burrens becomes irl

1975-herc, john n burr move in tgther -herc and laf begin their love and laf in need of a permanent place moves in (he contributs SO MUCH cuz he rich asl oh my god.) -eliza gets pregnant and the hamiltons get engaged and .. move uptown

1976- hamilton and eliza move to town -hamilton gets banned from gay club -burr quits job at office to full time queen(just the plot from her on out tbh meh)

Its "quiet" uptown… SETTING: 1976, a town right outside of new york city

an engaged couple,annoying deadbeat alexander hamilton and tired newly pregnant eliza schuler, move to new york. eliza aleady works at the groceey store bakery bur forces hamilton to get a job to support the upcoming family so he gets a job at "Office". The night before his first day, alexander decides to sneak out as he frequiently does. Alexander is proudly "bi-curious" and these desires led him to the towns local "gay club". Upon his arrival, his eyes are immediatly set on a young man with some groovy bellbottoms. alex immediatly approaches and starts a conversation. He attempts to flirt but the young man seems uncomfortable and confused and his eyes keep darting back and forth. Alex doesnt catch the hint and put his arm around him and insists he buys him a drink.

Suddenly alexander feels someone yank him by the hair and flip him around and away from the young man. Its the classiest queen in town, Purple Velvet! without letting go of alexs greasy slicked back hair, she damands to know what his problem is. alex mumbles a few half assed explanations, but Velvet already flashed her blinged pistol in her purse to alex and is dragging him out. by this point, a bouncer has arrived to asses the situation. Velvet queens out, tells the bouncer alex was harrassing her bitch and she wants him BANNED from the gay club. Sense she is one of the main attractions at the bar, the bouncer takes a polatroid of alex, tapes it up on the wall as banned and lets him go!!

The young man was John laurens, and him and aaron burr(purple velvet) have been lovers adn live together for two years now. John works at the grocery store as a cashier and is generally bummed out, but he is happy to at least have burr. He moved to new york from south carolina in 1973 coming from a rich family who just wanted him to move out. They give him a monthly allowance still, he pretends he doesnt get it but everyone knows! Aaron burr used to do theatre and opera, but found real success and passion in drag. His background isnt very clear, but his parents just recently died and he is rich as fuck right now and is fighting for his life budgeting for cocaine. He works at the office and preforms as Purple Velvet. Burr is a frequent at the grocery store john works at, and noticed him as cute when he started working there but didnt assume he would reciprocate so he left it be. John saw burr and was immedietly intrigued and conflicted. He hadnt had much interest in dating or love before, but he immeditaly understood what he felt when he saw burr. in exploring these feelings, john wound up finding the gay bar figuring this would lead him to discover more about himself. He wanders around and sees a poster with the stranger from the grocery stores face on it! it says purple velvet will preform on THIS FRIDAY NIGHT! John is confused and wasnt familiar with drag, but he was excited nontheless and goes home. All week he thinks about Purple Velvet and what it could mean.

Friday night comes, and john catches the last number in Purple velvet preforms. He is ENAMOURED if he wasnt already enough! He sits down and wonders what to do, he wants to talk to Velvet, but he doesnt know how! BUrr comes out in a more casual dress after changing out of purple velvet and noticed the cute cashier was over at the bar. Feeling more confident in his chances now that hes seeing him HERE, he approaches john, tells him he remembers him from the grocery store asks if he can sit by him and buy him a drink. John is speachless and bashful and these two rich gays hit it off and start chatting it up! burr take john home and the rest is HISTORY!!!!!!!!

The two have two other roomates(by 1976), Hercules and lafayette. Hercules mulligan is the most locked in person here and owns his own tailor shop and works on designing and is pioneering 1980s shillouettes. He is pretty good friends with Burr from the gay club.. Lafayette is an international salesman for his parents french phone company and is still learning english. He is a mess and rides a tiny motor bike around town trying to sell phones, but nobody knows what hes saying so he makes no sales, but he wont get fired cuz he a nepo baby! met when lafayette comes in to sell a phone, hercules cant tell what he says and thinks hes here for a suit! lafayette is confused and says yep hes here for a suit! hercules starts measuring him and it quickly becomes erotic cuz laf enjoyed it alot and thought it was some type of american sexual novelty. hercules is very very happy that lafayette is into it! lafayette has been staying at a hotel funded by his parents, as his job as an international sales man wasnt meant to keep him only in new york. Lafayette takes hercules back to the hotel room thats all dirty theres magots and german cockroaches everywhere. Hercules is very suprised and is confused about what lafayette is doing here and lafayette attemps to explain his positiobn as an international sales man, but hercules is mostly confused about the mess, sesne lafayettes only been here one and a half weeks. hercules suggests tey go back to his place instead, and lafayette takes them on his moped away to the house and lafayette loekwy just starts staying there

(I WILL REBLOG WITH PART 2) stupid fing tumblr cut me short wtf.,.

your president,

kitty!

[daresplaining]

Hiya~! You're always in the back of my mind as a kind and knowledgeable source for Daredevil. ♥

Do you know if it has ever been revealed exactly what chemical blinded Matt? Or even where it was coming from/going in the middle of the city? My knowledge of comic books exploiting all potential plots makes me feel like this is a thread that would have been pulled at some point over the last 60 years, but I don't see anything.

Aah, thank you! That's a great question, and the answer is that a lot of these details have actually been kept vague. There have been a lot of retellings of Matt's origin, but they haven't explored the actual context/nuances of the accident that much and the details they have included have tended to be inconsistent. The thing that blinded Matt was a radioactive substance of some kind, but visual depictions have varied wildly, from a glowing "radioactive cylinder" to leaky barrels of toxic sludge.

Matt's accident depicted by Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Glynis Wein (left); and by Chris Samnee and Javier Rodriguez (right).

As I mentioned, the details of the accident itself also vary. In Daredevil #1, we learn that the substance that blinded Matt was being transported by Ajax Atomic Labs, and that the accident was caused by the truck's brakes malfunctioning:

Daredevil vol. 1 #1 by Stan Lee, Bill Everett, and Sam Rosen

In Daredevil #164's origin rehashing, Roger McKenzie tells us that it was the army transporting bomb materials through the city, and that the accident was caused by the driver suffering a sudden heart attack:

Daredevil vol. 1 #164 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, Glynis Wein, and John Costanza

Perhaps most compellingly (at least to me), Tony Stark's notes on Daredevil in the Civil War Files identify a Stark Industries project (under the leadership of Tony's father) as the source of the substance, which is referred to as radioactive waste:

Civil War Files #1 by Anthony Flamini, Stuart Vandal, Ronald Byrd, Madison Carter, et al.

Mark Waid added one more detail, which gave voice to something that had previously just been implied: that this dangerous substance—whatever it was—was not supposed to be going through a populated area at all:

Caption: "That's when the driver opted to finally look up. His tires screaming, his cargo tumbled loose. It had been secured with the same kind of care one would expect—from a fly-by-night company that thought it'd be okay to illegally transport toxic waste through New York traffic." Daredevil vol. 3 #23 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Javier Rodriguez, and Joe Caramagna

To this, I might add the inference that it was likely being driven through Hell's Kitchen in particular because it was (at that time) a low income neighborhood where the authorities would be less likely to notice or care.

Waid's description of the accident, and the visual of barrels of toxic waste rather than a radioactive cylinder, are reminiscent of the alternate universe version of Matt's origin that Frank Miller and John Romita, Jr. presented in Man Without Fear—which also included the juicy detail of lawyers for the corporation showing up at Matt and his father's apartment afterward and strong-arming Jack into not pressing charges.

But yes, though I understand keeping the science involved in superhero origin stories non-specific, this is definitely an area of the Daredevil lore that could use further clarification. For real-world inspiration, here's an interesting New York Times article from 1985 about the transportation of nuclear waste through New York City. This part in particular seems relevant, and fits the timing of the publication of Daredevil #1 in 1964:

"Brookhaven has had a nuclear reactor operating since 1954. From 1954 to 1976, the spent fuel - radioactive uranium - was carried by truck into New York City, across the 59th Street Bridge, north on Third Avenue and across town to the George Washington Bridge. It then went south to a site in South Carolina for reprocessing. But in 1976 the city passed a local law banning the shipments, and triggering a battle over who has authority to control the shipments."

Maybe Matt was blinded by radioactive uranium? That transport route doesn't hit Hell's Kitchen at all, but I will also point out that Matt's childhood neighborhood wasn't specified as being Hell's Kitchen until Daredevil #164. At the very least, we know that toxic stuff was going through Manhattan in 1964, so if you were interested in a potential real-world source for more details to add to Matt's accident, that seems like a good place to look.

[icarusbetide]

back on my bullshit y'all. implausible historical scenario: southern alexander hamilton (pt 1: lavien & laurens version)

Part 2: Washington's son dramatic-ass version

my favorite hobby is shoving historical figures into impossible scenarios so i can get them to do what i want. once again made up some convoluted series of events just to create a hamilton wildly out of character- god forbid, a southerner who might even get along with thomas jefferson. here's the first implausible scenario that make it possible.

Alexander goes to live with his half brother Peter Lavien.

Peter Lavien was the legitimate child of Rachel Hamilton’s first marriage. He moved to Beaufort, South Carolina in 1764 at eighteen and became a prominent merchant and member of the church. However, he returned to St. Croix in 1769 to settle his mother’s estate, aka get everything that she had wanted to go to James Jr. and Alexander. In 1769, the two boys were taken in by their cousin Peter Lytton (who died), and then Lytton’s father, who also died a month later. Probable that this happened after Lavien had once again left St. Croix, but let’s just imagine that he for some reason takes pity on the boys - and takes them with him. Nothing makes sense here, roll with it.

It would be even sadder and morbidly funny if he only took Alexander. I say this because in his 1778 last Will and Testament Lavien left “Alexander Hamilton and his brother Robert Hamilton” a fairly substantial amount of money. One brother must’ve left a greater impression on him and maybe poor James Jr. hears this half brother who took his inheritance say “Alex and Robert can come with me” and goes “Who tf is Robert, fuck this” and peaces out. 

Now, politically: Extrapolating since I’m not sure how prominent “prominent merchant” is, but maybe this means that Alex has the chance to meet prominent southerners early on, who like many others, are charmed by his energy and precocity. Does this mean he has more affection and allegiance for South Carolina than he did in real life for St. Croix? Does his politics and economic experience change? Assuming that like Washington, wartime experience is enough to make him a nationalist and he still had some experience at Cruger’s (and maybe helping Lavien) and thus does not have differing economic beliefs, his enemies would lose out on a major attack: perceived bias to the North. His connection to the Schuyler family would still serve, but maybe without as much weight, since he has those southern connections. 

I love the idea of a South Carolinian Alexander Hamilton who grows up in a fairly secure American home with a steady guardian. The personal implications! The family drama of being forced to rely on a half brother who resents you for taking his mom, and who you resent back for taking your inheritance! Does this give him more issues, less issues? No idea! Even worse, Lavien was apparently a Tory, so there’s that. Two brothers who perhaps got closer over the years, split apart again by political differences. “I take pity on a bastard brat and you repay me with this?” type shit. Lavien moved out to Georgia in 1777, and apparently died in 1780 or 1781 which means Hamilton would’ve been a prominent aide de camp to the commander in chief, and potentially married into a great New York family when it happens. How would he react to that?

And I can’t give up the idea of Colonel Alexander Hamilton of South Carolina meeting John Laurens of South Carolina. Maybe I push it further and say they meet early on and become childhood friends, even.

This is really stretching it but idc, they get to be childhood friends and Hamilton gains the favor of Henry Laurens. Maybe they even go to Europe together, wreak havoc on everything, and then disobey both Laurens' worried father and Alexander's Tory brother to join the army as aide de camps.

Maybe in this universe, Hamilton is chosen to go to South Carolina instead of John Laurens and their fates are switched. Maybe Henry Laurens who still wants to keep his kid out of danger asks Hamilton to go in his stead and pushes Washington about it, and Hamilton, wanting a command, readily agrees. Maybe that continues on after Yorktown, when Hamilton returns to South Carolina. Maybe Laurens has to learn that Hamilton died in a skirmish through a letter from his father and vows to continue on their shared dreams and Hamilton's plans, becoming the influential but even more abrasive leader of the federalist party. i want to see the switch, where it's the more idealistic laurens who isn't a good politician either (the two of them are a disaster) enters the public arena to be slandered and corrupted - laurens who is isolated from his fellow southerners and who seems to be mourning someone constantly and washington knowing exactly who it is. a laurens who looks back and yearns for a promising, brilliant young man who could've done so much more if he only had the chance WAIT WHO SAID THAT-

[applbottmjeens]

Spc. Sylas Thomas "Saint" Pham

AKA: Tommy, Phạm Tèo Sỹ , Tommy Graves, St. Thomas

Blood type: O Positive

Height: 6'4

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Asian/Pacific Islander (Vietnamese + Filipino)

Languages Spoken: English, Vietnamese, Spanish

Religion: N/A

Marital Status: Single

Faceclaim: Aaron Bernards

Family:

Annabelle Graves née Pham - Mother (M.I.A)

Unnamed/Unknown biological father

Phillip Graves I - Step-Father (alive)

Phillip "Junior" Graves II - Younger half Brother (alive)

Russel Adler - Paternal Grandfather (deceased)

Phạm Vinh Trư���ng / Thomas Pham - Maternal Grandfather (alive)

Maria Soledad Pham née Delgado - Maternal Grandmother (deceased)

Ryan Joseph "RJ" Pham - Uncle (alive)

-

Affiliates:

TASKFORCE 141:

WATCHER-1 / Kate Laswell

141's BRAVO TEAM

BRAVO 0-6 / Cpt. John Price

BRAVO 0-7 / Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley

BRAVO 7-1 / Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish

BRAVO 2-6 / Sgt. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

141's ECHO TEAM / "LASWELL'S ANGELS"

ECHO 0-1 / Lt. Isobel "Medusa" Williams (@gipsyavnger)

ECHO 1-1 / Sgt. Maj. Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton (@revnah1406)

ECHO 0-0 / Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (@alypink)

141's TANGO TEAM / "THE AUSSIES" (@kaitaiga)

TANGO 0-1 / Cpt. Lachlan Jones

TANGO 2-1 / Sgt. Damien Whitlock (WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE!?)

SHADOW COMPANY (Formerly):

Comd. Phillip Graves Sr., Phillip Graves Jr., Ms Sgt. Shane Sparks (formerly), Rozlin "Rose" Helms (formerly). Velikan, SO. Marcus "Lerch" Ortega

-

Tommy Pham was born during the 4 year disappearance of Phillip Graves in Charleston, South Carolina to a distraught Annabelle Pham after a brief tryst with a stranger. During the times his mother couldn't care for him, little Tommy stayed with his Uncle RJ or his grandparents.

When his mother married his stepfather, 3 year old Tommy had some trouble adjusting to him, but Graves would regard Tommy as his son just as much as his younger brother was, Phillip Jr.

Tommy and Junior's bond strengthened as they grew up, with the upbeat and sensitive Junior under the protection of his tougher older brother.

Both Tommy and Junior followed in their parent's footsteps and joined the army and eventually the Shadow Company, each brother talented in their own right: Tommy was a fighter, and Junior was a leader.

When his mother goes missing on a mission with the 141, his stepfather would refuse to divulge information on her whereabouts, only assuring him they were looking for her with little update.

Frustrated and with little faith in the Shadow Company, Tommy would turn to the Taskforce 141 for answers: specifically his godmother, Lt. Isobel Williams.

Tommy, now under the tutelage of the 141, is as unpredictable and crazy on the battlefield like his mother, but what he lacks in stealth (due to his height) he makes up with in brute force.

He takes himself a bit seriously and has the "patience of a Saint", and tends to hold his feelings close only to unleash when he's on the field later. While he and his stepfather have a somewhat strained relationship after he left the Shadow Company, he and Junior have become closer on their mutual goal to find their mother.

[ciceroprofacto]

Okay- as to the possibility of John Laurens meeting Peter Lavien, this is super messy and it’s impossible to prove without a primary source explicitly stating that they interacted, but I can put the timeline together for you that explains how they would’ve been in the same area at the same time.

The summary is this:

- Sometime between 1764 and 1766, Peter Lavien settled in Beaufort, SC, and became a partner with Captain Samuel Grove, running his shop in downtown Beaufort along with an apprentice/clerk named John Kean. They became one of the most successful import/export houses in the area during an indigo boom.

- When the Revolution started stirring up trade restrictions, Lavien took to smuggling and, in 1776, he had a ship detained in Savannah with its cargo. He appealed to the South Carolina Council of Safety which was chaired by Henry Laurens at the time. His son in law, John Charles Lucena, had connections to a merchant in Savannah that was able to vouch for his ship and get it released.

- In 1777, Peter Lavien moved his family to Savannah for business and to avoid patches of violence that broke out around the lowcountry. He left his properties in Beaufort to be managed by John Kean in his absence.

- Fast forward to 1779, Laurens joined up with the southern army at Tillifiny Hill in May and volunteered to escort General Moultrie’s rear guard across the Coosawatchie River. He engaged the enemy in an ill-advised assault and was routed back across the river. If you’re interested in the archeological effort to pinpoint the exact location of the engagement.

- The nearest major town was Beaufort, about 15 miles away where John Kean was incidentally still located, serving as deputy paymaster of the South Carolina Militia.

- Peter Lavien’s name would’ve been well-known in the area and his move to Savannah would’ve been common local knowledge. Laurens would have likely interacted with John Kean at some point while commanding a militia battalion, and it’s possible that Kean would have known that Lavien was Hamilton’s older brother if Lavien ever spoke about it to him. So, there’s a possibility that Laurens learned Kean’s former-employer’s relationship to Alexander Hamilton and knew that he’d moved to Savannah. 

- Whether Laurens made the effort or had the time to seek Peter Lavien out while he was in the vicinity of Savannah that autumn is entirely speculation. But, we do know that Lavien left a small sum of money to his brothers in his will before he died just a year later. 

Extended timeline details and sources under the cut.

These points are all from: 1. Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton 2. Greg Massey’s John Laurens and the American Revolution 3. Rowland, Moore, and Rogers’ History of Beaufort County V.1

“In 1745, the ill-fated wedding [between Rachel Faucette and Johann Lavien took place at the Grange. The newlyweds set up house on their own modest plantation, which was named, with macabre irony, Contentment. The following year, the teenage bride gave birth to a son, Peter, destined to be her one legitimate child.” (1. pg 11)

In 1750, Johann Michael Lavien, Peter’s father, had Rachel imprisoned for adultery and no longer residing with him. She was sent to Christiansvaern, the local fort and imprisoned for 3-5 months. She left Christensted when she got out, leaving Johann and Peter behind and going to St. Kitts where she started living with James Hamilton. (1. pg 11-12)

On February 26, 1759, Johann Lavien sent Rachel an official divorce summons for absenting herself which she attended and they were officially divorced on June 25th. Johann was allowed to remarry and Rachel strictly prohibited, denying her any of the property he’d mostly gained in marrying her, and preventing her “whore-children” from getting any in the event of his death. Peter would’ve been 13, James 6, and Alexander either 2 or 4. (1. pg 20)

Early 1760s, Johann and Peter moved to Frederiksted on the far side of St Croix. (1. pg 21)

April 1765, James Hamilton, Rachel and their kids moved to Christiansted where James was working as a clerk for Archibald Ingram of St Kitts, the son of a Glasgow “tobacco lord”- a family connection, tasked to collect a debt from a man named Alexander Moir. The case lasted until January 1766, then James pulled anchor and disappeared around Alex’s 11th birthday. (1. pg 21)

Between 1764 and 1766, Peter settled in Beaufort, SC, and became the shop manager of a store owned by Captain Samuel Grove in Beaufort bay on Tradd Street selling rum, sugar, chocolate, coffee, tea, and wine, all imported on his schooner Hannah and Betsy. John Kean was his apprentice. (3. pg 244)

“November 1769...Peter returned to St Croix to take possession of his small inheritance- an injustice that rankled Alexander for many years. Peter had fared sufficiently well in Beaufort, South Carolina- named a church warden- the chief financial and administrative officer- in St Helena’s Parish the previous year, yet he couldn’t spare a penny for the two destitute half brothers orphaned by his mothers death.” (1. pg 25)

Early 1770s, Peter Lavien and Samuel Grove were considered the largest indigo shippers in the Beaufort District. The Revolution disrupted the firm’s trade and Samuel Grove died at sea in 1775. (3. pg 244)

On 30 January 1776, one of Peter Lavien’s partner ships the William was detained in Savannah for smuggling. Lavien appealed to the South Carolina Council of Safety (chaired by Henry Laurens) to release the brigantine with 122 casks of indigo and 100 barrels of rice on board. The Council of Safety refused and ordered the cargo detained in Beaufort. On February 1, 1776, Quinton Pooler, a Savannah merchant who Peter’s son-in-law, John Charles Lucena had connections to, claimed the cargo belonged to him, and the captain of the William produced authorization for departure from the Georgia Council of Safety. The vessel sailed and a frustrated Henry Laurens, obviously not convinced, warned the Georgia council that they should “obey the laws of Congress”. (3. pg 206-207)

“Family business connections, and political hostility, forced Lavien to move to Savannah in 1777.  There he lived with his daughter Joanna, and his son-in-law, John Charles Lucena, until his death in 1781.” (3. pg 244)

“Lavien left his Beaufort property in the hands of his former partner’s stepson, John Kean, who was a consistent patriot and a member of Beaufort’s local committee.  Lavien’s will divided his large estate between the Lucenas of Savannah and John Kean of Beaufort. The Lucenas remained loyal to the crown, and most of their Georgia property was confiscated; Kean served as deputy paymaster of the South Carolina militia, along with John Mark Verdier. Both served under Daniel DeSaussure, who was paymaster general of the South Carolina Militia. (3. pg 244)

May 1, 1779- Laurens arrived in General Moultrie’s camp at Tullifiny Hill.  On May 3rd, he volunteered to take 250 militia troops to escort Moultrie’s rear guard back to the army at Tullifiny Hill and instead tried to lead an assault across the Coosawhatchie River, failing and risking about a third of Moultrie’s force. (2. pg 135)

[jadeyharls]

Holy Crap, That is a Lot of Words: A "Brief" History of Jade E. Harley and the Alterra Timeline

April 13, Year 0 ATG (After the Game): Sburb is officially beaten and the new universe is created. This is where this timeline splits from the Alpha Timeline. Before opening the door, Karkat ends up speaking to Calliope and stops John from opening it. If she had been brought back from the dead, was it possible to bring back the other trolls? After some deliberation, the living players decided that it might be wise to do some preparation before entering the new universe. They didn’t know what to expect, and this was a second chance they were not ready to screw up.

Over the course of the next few months the players alongside representatives of the carapacians and consorts start laying out plans for the new universe. This includes how they would go about kickstarting the new civilization, starting with the foundation of a single settlement and a governing body. The Mayor is eventually elected the head of this governing body, with several of the “gods” playing active roles in society by serving or consulting on a variety of committees. All of the former players serve on a council put in place to safeguard the timeline, however, it is decided early on that no players would be permitted to hold elected roles that would influence governing policies. (Read as: Gods are not allowed to become president.)

After experimenting with several combinations of powers, the players finally figure out how to bring a ghost back without the use of a life ring… sort of. (This process became a bit more refined after Feferi was revived.) The hunt begins for the unaccounted for ghosts that are not currently a part of a sprite. During this time the players are guilt tripped convinced to bring the Beforian trolls with them as well. However, bringing back old friends does come with some cost. Davepeta for example had already vanished before the game ended. Nepeta’s ghost was eventually recovered (with her actually being the last to be revived), but there was no sign of what might be left of Davesprite. Hal is lost when bringing Equius out of the sprite, and Nanasprite and Jasprose both go missing during this time period.

Jade secretly stashes away a GREEN SUN spark somewhere during this time. To this day, no one knows but her. It’s hidden in a locket she keeps well buried in the back of her closet. She has methods in place to keep it from being detected. This is also why she still has a small degree of her first guardian powers. No one questions it (Rose and a few others probably do tbh) because “really, who completely understands how first guardians work anyway?” 

September, Year 0 ATG: The door to the new universe is opened. The players and those who joined them start looking for a place to settle, as well where the meteor lab might have crashed. However, it for some reason can not be found.

Sometime before the end of Year 0 AGT: Aranea, Gamzee, and Jack are put in trial for their various actions during the game. (Vriska and Eridan would later be addressed as well, but those were the big 3.) Since there really wasn’t much of a justice system in place yet, there wasn’t a whole lot that could be done. (They are still working on it. It’s not a super big priority though since most of the timeline’s residents are really chill.) The two trolls are basically given a second chance under extremely close supervision. Jack however is placed under “house arrest”, with Ms. Paint acting as his supervisor of sorts.

July 15th, Year 1 AGT: Cantown is officially founded and named. Located near a river about 100 miles off the east coast of what used to be the United States. I never officially decided where, but I think my original idea was that it might have been somewhere in where South Carolina used to be. Note though, that Earth’s geography has changed significantly.

Sometime during Year 1 AGT: Jade’s first post game death due to a construction accident. Not just or heroic.

Year 2 AGT: Jade and Jake (now 18) move out from their shared residence with John and Jane into the tower they built much closer to the coast. 

Sometime in Year 4 AGT: Dirk and Jade have a falling out after he and Jake get back together for the 3rd god dang time. Up until this point they actually had been decently good friends and often worked together since they both serve on the Science and Tech committee. 

Jade discovers a natural pool in what used to be Central America, and starts conducting research on wildlife that lives there, including the rapid evolution of sburb generated fauna (Hummingbirds and frogs).

Mid-December Year 5 AGT: Jade (now 21) accidentally discovers access to what she calls the multi-net through a website called Hivetale. She tells Jake about this fairly early on since he lives with her. Lots of weird stuff happens.

January Year 6 AGT: Jade meets her first moirail (Eridan). He is the first visitor from outside her timeline. These visits are mostly one sided though, as she has no way to leave her timeline at this point.

Aradia finds out about this and puts in place the secrecy rule. As long as the multiverse shenanigans stay under wraps, she is fine. If the secret gets out or the timeline is in anyway threatened, they will be going into total lockdown permanently.

Jade becomes close with another timeline’s Alpha Dave (David) and Hal around this point.

Spring Year 6 AGT: Hal gets severely injured. She convinces Aradia to help her break out of the timeline to go and help him. They end up needing another time player to make this work, and Damara is recruited after Aradia strikes a deal with her. Jade… wasn’t entirely sure what that deal was and was kind of afraid to ask. 

Turns out Hal’s version Dirk is the only one that knows how to fix him so enter this jerk. Seriously, she could not stand him at first because of how he treated Hal. Over time the two Striders ended up making up, and Jade befriended Dirk as well. (Aka, Grumpybutt.)

The ex moirail ends up moving in with her for a short time after his home gets destroyed by magical girls. Yes that is actually what happened, and no she did not tell Aradia about this.

Her timeline’s Rose and Kanaya get married.

Her timeline’s Dave and Karkat start dating.

John moves out from Jane’s house, and gets a place with Roxy and Calliope.

Summer Year 6 AGT: Hivetale says goodbye, Tumblr says hello. 

Jade meets Jack within like the first month. He keeps trying to fight her and she is NOT having it. Frankly, she doesn’t trust him. It’s freaking JACK NOIR, and still in full Bec mode at that. If being in contact with anyone is going to be a danger to her timeline, it’s going to be him right? 

“Wait who is this small dog child, and why/how the heck is she showing up at my house asking me to date her dad?” Jade meets Lily Noir, and the rest of the original 6 pups slowly make their way into her life. (Alpha, Bones, Timber, Demise, Lily, and Kami. The other 7 kids have not been born yet.) Jade reluctantly at first becomes friends with Jack. It… took awhile to get Lily to quit trying to get her to date Jack. 

Jake eventually ends up finding out about the Noir kids and proceeds to be like wtf. To be fair, Kami was painting occult rituals on their wall. 

Jade finds out Jake is planning to move in with Dirk. This ends up putting her in a really bad place mentally because she is terrified of the idea of living alone again after doing so for most her life. They come to a compromise, and this is when Dirk moves in with them much to her chagrin. 

Jade gets pale married?? Yeah, so… funny thing. She had no idea that is what happened, or that was even a thing. She was basically given a ring thought she was just getting a 6 month anniversary present. She didn’t know it was a marriage thing until months later. Luckily, she was okay with it, just really surprised. 

December, Year 6 AGT: Jade gets Poppy (her eevee) as a birthday present. Hiding her from Dirk is a massive pain, but she manages. Again, Jade didn’t tell Aradia. She found out of course eventually, but this was months later so by then Jade was able to convince her that she could keep the little terror hidden.

Year 7 AGT: Okay, so my memory gets a little foggy for the next few years, but I’m going to do my best. First off though, Jade finally gets a inter-dimensional portal device. 

Jade also gets Olena (her then Vulpix, now Ninetails) around late November. Dinah, her dog, was given to her by Jack that December.

Jade’s second death by plant spore induced strangulation. The purple stranglers are discovered and appropriately named. 

That one time she was magic anon-ed and given butterfly wings and antenna instead of her dog ears for like a week. That sucked. 

Also briefly turned into a griffin of all things by an anon. She hated that.

The dislocated knee incident.

Year 8-9 AGT: Okay, I might be off here, but I am about 80% sure this is when Flarping 2.0 happened. 

Olena evolves.

Hal and Grumpybutt Dirk vanished around Summer Year 8 a few months before she joined Flarping.

If I’m right then this is when she met Equius, Kris, EE, Vinny, and a few others. She was still on Tumblr some, but mostly on Flarping.

I want to say she met Nova as well? Which also means she got Gilligan (Her robotic humming bird assistant), though I do think that was post Flarping. 

Mer-May anon stikes. She basically gets stuck in a bathtub for a week.

I believe this is when Paradox Space was a thing for a little as well.

Built the cabin near the pool mentioned earlier, mostly to give her a place to let her pets wander freely and host visitors from outside the timeline where Dirk wouldn’t be an issue. But it also serves as a place to do her research. The ex moirail lived here for a few months at one point.

Year 10 AGT: Back to Tumblr.

Jade has to put Herbert the frog in solitary confinement away from other frogs. 

Roxy and John get engaged. No, they still aren’t married.

The ex moirail goes MIA. 

Jade and Equius start getting together. Not like “together” together though. Nooooo never.

3rd Death by late onset of the family peanut allergy. 

The tiny metal baby (Orion Pax the Aron) is hatched by an egg left at Jade’s cabin by Ivory Noir. 

Year 11 AGT: Not a whole lot happens unless I am forgetting something. Jade slowly starts to resent the now ex-moirail as he kind of just vanished without telling her, and she starts to realize some other things about the relationship as well. She finally decides to move on.

Equius gives her Oleander (Turtwig).

Gilligan starts acting… odd. 

Year 12 AGT: PRESENT DAY Jade turns 29 this year.

Gilligan starts acting more odd.

Not a whole lot of anything too crazy. 

Kris and Jade become moirails.

Year 13 AGT and forward: Gilligan is [Spoilers]. You’ll see it eventually. It’s about time I got that plot point moving. Anyway, from here on out, there is some discrepancy when it comes to the future of the timeline. Basically, Jade and the other immortals continue on their lives as civilization grows around them. Eventually though, there is a timeline split that leads to one of two potential far-off futures. Like hundreds of years off. One is the “good end”. Jade ends up raising a family of family of 4 adopted kids, and maaaaybe gets together with someone. (Big maybe) It’s just a happy, well-adjusted life where nothing bad will happen. No haha, not at all. The other is the “bad end”, which… basically involves Jade starting to take the goddess thing a bit too seriously after she gets ditched by most of the people in her life, and becomes the ruler of a new planet dubbed New Prospit. She does have an adopted son in this timeline who is killed during an attempted assassination, and whoops this starts a war. 

[my-deer-friend]

3, 7, 17 for the ask game 🙃

3. Do you have a nickname for them?

John Laurens is Jack, naturally, or when I'm feeling extra spicy he's Jaś (which is the nickname for Jan, the Polish version of John).

Bonus point: Equally naturally, Stanisław August Poniatowski (nine syllables?? my guy...) is Staś.

It does not in any way improve matters that this reminds me of legendary (to me) accordion duo Jaś i Staś.

7. Let us know three random facts about them!

Okay, let's see...

1. When Henry Laurens fell ill in 1770, he tasked 15-year-old John with writing an urgent letter to a correspondent. John opens with this wonderful bit of TMI:

My Pappa having been attacked with a slight Ague and intermitting Fever, has taken a Vomit this Morning, which is now in its full Operation

2. John was a thoughtful, considerate friend. Like the time where he left Thomas Paine on the side of the road in a broken carriage so he could rush off to Congress in Philadelphia, and, then per Massey,

So great was [Laurens'] haste that he completely forgot a promise to Tom Paine that he would ask Congress to compensate the pamphleteer. Instead, John left a request for Paine to pick up a pair of boots that he left behind with a shoemaker, but he enclosed no money to pay for the repairs. “I wish you had thought of me a little before you went away,” Paine chided.

Massey, G. John Laurens and the American Revolution (pp. 191-192). University of South Carolina Press.

3. John once rode all the way from London to Paris in three days flat, which I still consider an insane feat of trying to avoid paternal disappointment.

17. Is there a song that reminds you of them?

Is there!!

(Everyone's got a history blorbo playlist, right...?)

I'm not a Hosier!girlie but this is just 👌

And then, not to be Killers-posting in year of our lord 2024, but...

Bonus: pain!

[productofnfld]

The Horrible Hurricane of 1775

Newfoundland is no stranger to bad weather; storms blow in, they blow out again, and most of them are forgotten.

Not all of them though.

Nearly 250 years ago a storm hit the island with such force and left such destruction in its wake that it’s still not lost to time.

September 1775

The first week of September 1775 had been surprisingly good. The winds were light and the people of Conception Bay were busy. The squid were late that year and hundreds of small, open boats dotted the coastline engaged in the fishery.

Far south of Newfoundland it was a different story; there was a storm brewing.

In 1775 storms moved faster than news and the people of Newfoundland had no idea that on September 2 a serious storm had hit North Carolina, they had no idea that a hurricane was spinning it’s way up the seaboard and had Newfoundland in it’s cross-hairs.

Had they known they could have stayed ashore or sought sheltered ports but they didn’t, and what unfolded was horrific.

On September 11, the storm hit.

There was howling wind and torrential rain, perhaps worse still was the storm surge — the sea rose twenty-feet, throwing waves far inland, smashing buildings and sweeping them from the coast.

The strength of the storm was only half the story, the speed with which it struck left people with no time to prepare. The storm hit when Conception Bay was full of squid fisherman; their tiny boats were no match for the storm.

Boats capsized, sailing ships were thrown on shore.

Many fisherman never made it to shore, and even those who did struggled to find safety. Buildings and shelters were washing away.

The storm raged, leaving an unimaginable path of destruction. When the storm subsided parts of Conception Bay were in ruin. More than 700 hundred boats — 300 in Harbour Grace alone — were lost, including at least 11 ships, with most of their crews.

The death toll, counting those lost on the Grand Banks is estimated to be in the neighbourhood of 4000 people.

To put that in perspective, the summertime population of Newfoundland in 1775 is often cited at about 12000 people.

It was gruesome.

For days after the storm, bodies washed ashore. According to a report in the Annual Register for 1775, “for some days after, in drawing the nets ashore, they often found 20 or 30 dead bodies in them; a most shocking spectacle!”

It’s said that bones washed ashore for years afterward.

The staggering death toll makes the Newfoundland Hurricane of 1775 one of the deadliest storms on record in North America.

That said, when the storm comes up in conversation these days it’s not often in a discussion of meteorology. You’re more likely to hear about when people share spooky stories around the campfire.

The Hollies of Northern Bay

The community of Northern Bay, on the north shore of Conception Bay, was particularly hard hit by the Newfoundland hurricane of 1775.

Legend has it that a fleet of fishing vessels with a crew of migrant fishermen was driven ashore by the wind and storm surge and many of the crew drowned.

While they may have drowned, they didn’t quite go away. From time to time they still make their presence known.

It is said that just before a storm, particularly a storm out of the northeast, the voices of the dead seamen can still be heard crying out, acting as a sort of warning.

The ghosts are referred to as ‘the hollies’

In 1964, Mary Elizabeth McCarthy recorded her memories of Northern Bay and included a passage on the hollies. She said they “could be heard (because I did) on a foggy night with their sad heave-ho, for certain the sound was there, whatever it was.”

The phenomenon is described in a 1980 issue of Decks Awash magazine shares the story of John Hogan, a fisherman who died in 1972. Hogan, apparently, not only heard the hollies but saw them. He described them as looking like regular men who, at times, were quite helpful — even assisting him in hauling nets.

I think Hogan’s tale deviates from general ‘holly lore’ — they tend to be ghosts that are heard but not seen.

I suppose Hogan was right about them being helpful — they’ve spent almost 250 years issuing their supernatural forecasts, cautioning mariners of impending storms. It’s as if they are supplying the sort of warning no one was able to give them…

For some reason I think that makes the tales even creepier.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (7): I Thought About Thinking It Through

a/n: ok so the first blurb of the sleep talking interlude has been somewhat negated so I apologize but promise it is worth it. heavy shit this chapter as we get the full story on sidney landry. but john might say the L word...

warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of character just wanting it all to stop

When John walked into the pub that night, the sounds of an angel laughing reached his ears but the cause was making his fists curl. Cass was seated at a table in the back corner with a man, who he presumed was Mr. Foster, sitting across from her. Her chin was in her hand the way it was whenever he told her a funny story. Her smile was as soft as candlelight as she nodded along to whatever he was telling her. Swears he felt his blood boil when her hand brushed against his across the table.

“Hey, baby, I didn’t think I was going to see you here tonight.” His annoyance was washed away as she turned to greet him with a smile. She said his name and brought him in for a kiss, John using her proximity to press a few more to her lips.

“John, this is Captain Will Foster. We went to spook school in Maryland together.” John kept one arm around the back of her chair as he shook the man’s hand. 

“Major Egan, it’s an honor, sir.” 

“Hear that, Cass, some people think it’s an honor to meet me.” She rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her soda. “You’re the one who’s going to keep an eye on my girl in Berlin?”

“I’ll do my best, sir, but this is Cass’ operation. I’m just here to do what she tells me.” Cass blushed and ducked her head. “Lieutenant Cooper graduated top of our class. Highest marks the entire year.” 

“It’s not that impressive,” she began. “Not like I can fly a plane.”

“None of that,” John stated as he gripped her chin between his fingers. “You are the smartest, most gorgeous, most impressive woman that has ever walked this earth.” She smiled in spite of the ridiculousness and let him pull her in for another kiss. 

“Careful, John, or all this is going to go to my head. Then I’ll be truly insufferable.” 

“I have never once complained about your company.” As it always did, the rest of the world sealed itself off from the space between them. As soon as they had their eyes on each other there was nothing else that mattered. “Can I get you a refill?”

“Yes, please.” John kissed her forehead and was off in the direction of the bar. 

“You and the Major, huh?”

“He is…a welcome surprise. I saw him get off a plane one day and couldn’t shake the look in his eyes.”

“Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back,” Will replied with a swig of his beer. “You always were good at learning everything about your target without giving up even a hint of yourself.”

“John’s not my target. He’s my-” She stopped. What was he? Was there a word to describe their relationship status? Partner seemed too severe and official. Boyfriend seemed too trivial. “Mine. He’s just mine. And I’m his.”

“Simple. That works.” Oh, if he only knew. The feelings they had for each other, ability to express them agnostic, were simple. They were pure. They were real. They were warm and comforting and made her nerves tingle. But the world around them was so complicated. The lives they led as individuals were complicated, how were they supposed to twine them together? “And to think you were a runaway bride when I first met you.”

“Runaway bride?” John chose the perfect time to return. Catching the one part of that comment that Cass felt in her chest. “You?”

“It’s an exaggeration of the circumstances.” Cass transitioned to damage control. The topic of why she had left South Carolina in the first place hadn’t come up between her and John. And she had wanted to keep it that way. There was no use pouring salt in her old wounds.

“Oh, come on, Cass. Engaged to marry the big time banker’s son and fleeing the engagement party to enlist in the OSS? It’s an incredible story.” For the second time that day, John found himself furious with the tone someone was using to speak to her. She had fully retreated into herself, focused on the condensation rolling down the side of the bottle, her hands shaking in her lap at the reminder of that night. 

“Doesn’t seem like she wants to talk about it, Captain.” There was authority in his tone. It was protective. Purposeful. No room to misinterpret his words. “You okay?” It looked like she was having trouble breathing. As if the amount of trauma trapped in her chest was suffocating her. 

“No. I just need some air. Alone.” She doesn’t think she could look John in the eye. Not when he now knew the awful truth. Not when she was now nothing but damaged and spoiled goods. John watched her walk away with a clenched jaw. 

“Major-”

“I don’t know what the fuck happened in South Carolina, Foster, but if I ever hear you mention it again it will be the last thing you ever do.” John drained the rest of his whiskey and slammed it on the table. He didn’t wait for a response. He meant the words he said. And Will knew it.

----

“There’s more than one of them,” John mocked as he sat across from the RAF officers. “I can see more than one of you, too. I could knock all of you out.” Cass hadn’t come back into the pub and John had just drowned his anger and worry in amber liquid. Buck and Veal helped settle him down as he yelled he could do it in only one punch.

“You want to get Major excited? Baseball. Specifically the Yankees,” Curt offered.

“Really? I would have thought it was the little poppet who left close to tears.” No one tried to stop him when he stood this time. 

“Say that again,” he threatened. 

“Why don’t we make a bit of sport out of it, Major?” 

“I’ve got him, John, let me take care of him,” Curt reasoned. Really, they were all afraid John might kill him. A better man would know when to step aside. Let a more level head prevail. But John wasn’t in any particular mood to take the high ground. 

“Not this time. People in this goddamn pub need to stop talking about her.” They all milled outside and John tossed his blazer into the grass. He wondered if Cass would appreciate the gesture or be repulsed by it. If she ever believed violence was the answer or always chose to think her way out of everything. He ducked the weak hand of the Brit as he thought about the way she looked earlier. The way she had hid herself from his gaze and his touch and requested she be alone. He didn’t like the hole in his chest that she left whenever she wasn’t near.

His fist landed square on his target’s face and the sickening crunch of breaking bone echoed throughout the night air. He pictured Harding’s lovesick eyes when his Cass entered the room. Pictured Foster and his words quelling the fire inside of his Cass in an instant. Pictured this pompous asshole watching his Cass walk from the pub with a shake to her shoulders. Cass was a deity that mere men were not meant to get too close to. John didn’t even believe he deserved the way she looked at him. The way she touched him and comforted him and made him feel at home in a faraway land.

“You good, Bucky?” The others were cheering and laughing and slapping him on the shoulder but Buck looked concerned more than anything.

“I gotta protect her, Buck. I can’t let this place take her from me.” He couldn’t even feel the wounds to his knuckles or the blood of another man trickling down his fingers. “I’ll find you guys later.” John ignored their groans and pleas and grabbed his jacket from the ground before heading off in her direction. His north star. He would always follow her home.

----

He knocked softly against her door, Mary not hiding her eye roll at his disheveled uniform and bloodied knuckles when she had begrudgingly let him in, his forehead landing against the wood as he waited for her to answer.

“You found me,” she whispered softly as she cracked the door open an inch. 

“Always will,” he replied sincerely. “Can I come in?” She nodded and opened the door wider, John closing it behind him as she sat on the edge of her bed. He looked around and noticed a packed bag on the floor and a stack of envelopes on her desk. The one on top looked like it was addressed to her parents. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back after…” John shook his head.

“You were upset. He shouldn’t have said what he said.” Cass chuckled drily and looked at the ceiling. 

“You have my back, just like that? Without even knowing what it was he was talking about?” He sat down in her chair, elbows landing on the top of his thighs. “What happened to your hand?” She surged forward and held his hand in hers with a delicacy that made him shudder.

“I was having your back.” Not asking any further, she opened a drawer and pulled out a first aid kit. “And to answer your question, yes. It doesn’t matter what he was talking about. If it made you uncomfortable, it needed to stop.” He didn’t wince as she cleaned the blood from his hand, kissing each knuckle for extra measure, and wrapping a bandage to seal in her love.

“I appreciate that, John, but what he said was true.” He winced now. 

“About being another man’s bride?” The thought made him sick. The thought that Cass was already someone else’s. That she hadn’t told him and let him fall in love with her and share in those sacred moments together. That maybe that was why she so rigidly didn’t want him to say so. 

“I was supposed to be. Before I left for training, I was engaged.” She paused and waited for his reaction. Waited for him to be angry or upset and tell her she wasn’t worth the trouble. 

“And I’m sure you left for a reason, Cass.” His desire to understand her almost hurt her chest. It reminded her exactly why she had left. Why Sidney Landry was most certainly not the man she was meant to marry. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to drudge something up if you’ve already gotten over it.”

“No, if…if me and you are going to be me and you, you need to know. You deserve to know.” John leaned forward to hold her hands, kissing the back of them with all the love he could muster. “His name is Sidney Landry. His father is the biggest banker in the state and they’ve been looking to get their claws into my family’s business for decades.” Her hands shook slightly and he squeezed them tight.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m not leaving.”

“By all accounts it was an advantageous match. They were wealthy and powerful and Sidney could have any girl in Charleston that he wanted but for some god awful reason he wanted me. My mother was so delighted. She had found a man who was willing to try to tame me.” A tear rolled down her cheek and John’s thumb wiped it away. 

“Cass…”

“I had no choice but to say yes and let him parade me around like some blue ribbon. I was so miserable every second I was with him. He would grab my arms so tight they bruised everytime we went somewhere. He would say the crudest things about me having his children. I spent months just wanting it all to stop.” The tears were coming in full force. Her hands grasping John’s like he was her anchor in the storm. His own eyes were swimming with emotion as he watched her exorcize these demons from within her. “One night he had been drinking so much I couldn’t understand what he was saying. But he was so angry I wouldn’t let him touch me. So angry that he…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he repeated, “I know all I need to, Cass.” John already knew he was going to kill Sidney Landry. Didn’t know when but he knew it would be slow. 

“His hands were around my neck and I thought he was going to kill me. I hit him as hard as I could over and over before he stopped. I ran and I ran and I ran until I couldn’t breathe.” 

“You ran all the way to London, huh?” he said in the hopes of getting a smile to crack across her face. It worked. 

“I thought I ended up here because I was running away from him but maybe I was really just running to you.”

“That sounds about right,” he murmured as he stroked the top of her cheeks. “What you went through…You are so fucking strong, Cass. You deserve to be happy and to feel loved and protected.”

“I’m so damaged, John. I’m not meant for a life of teacups and doilies and standing there silently. No one is going to want this version of me.” Now that he knew the truth, she expected him to run too. To find a simple girl who could be the wife he deserved and the mother to his children he deserved. 

“That’s not true, Cass, because I,” he swallowed and held her face between his hands, steady and strong, “because I love you. I am so fucking in love with you, Cassandra Cooper. I love every last bit of you and I love this version of you and know I’ll love every version that comes after.” She kissed him ferociously, not able to get enough of him even with no distance between them. “Come home with me when this is all over. Do me the honor and make me the happiest man alive.”

“I will, John, I will.” He kissed her with a groan, eager to lock this promise between them. “John, you need to know that I leave for Berlin in the morning. The operation it’s…it’s…others have tried and they haven’t come back.”

“I’m not letting you say goodbye,” he reasoned. “Not when you got me thinking about an after.” Oh it was so cruel and dangerous for the universe to do this to him. Give him the one thing he’d been wanting only to have her live her life on the same edge he did. 

“If something happens to me, I need you to know I feel the same way you do.” She just needed to get through this. If she could survive Berlin, she could survive this whole thing. She could love John Egan wholeheartedly and unabashedly. She could find the courage to go back home if he was with her. “When I went to see Harding this morning, I went to turn down Berlin.”

“Turn it down?”

“I would have rather been here with you than anywhere else. No matter what those consequences were. But then I saw Buck’s letter and I was so angry.”

“I know. I deserve that.” She shook her head.

“No, you don’t because here I am doing the exact same thing.” 

“Hey, you’re not going to need those farewell letters on your desk, okay? You’re going to go to Berlin, kick someone’s ass or steal state secrets to end the war and you’re going to come right back home to me. Just like how I am always going to come right back home to you.”

“Forever and ever?” she asked. 

“Forever and ever,” he promised. “You going to let me hold you while we try and get some sleep tonight?” 

And that was how Mary found them before the sun rose the following morning. John protectively wrapped around Cass from behind, their fingers interlocked at her middle. And they both studied each other for a few more minutes until Mary said it was really, really time for Cass to go. John not wanting to forget a single thing about this very moment. Cass not wanting to forget a single detail about the face of the man she loved. The face of the man she was fighting to keep safe. 

“Don’t get distracted by thoughts of your love for me while you’re flying,” she teased as he pecked her lips a few times. 

“I am going to fly so much faster with that admission off my chest.” She giggled and fell back into him easily, her plane whirring to life behind them. 

“If you do, I might let you show me how much you love me when I get back.” That twinkle of mischief was there that he loved so dearly. 

“Is that so? You better hurry then. I’m a patient man, Spook, but not when it comes to loving on you.” 

“Cass! We got to go! Weather’s moving in!” Her heart dropped along with her smile as she turned back to John. The part she was dreading.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” she said, her fingers tracing the contours of his face one last time. His knuckles brushed her cheek and he kissed her one last time. 

“I love you. You come back to me in one piece. That’s an order, Lieutenant.” 

“I’ll do my best, Major.” She pulled him by the front of his jacket for her own last kiss. To tell him she loved him without saying the words. Those would be for after. 

She walked backwards until she couldn’t anymore. Her hand pressing to her lips before she released it into the wind, John catching the sentiment with ease. He had never felt such torment watching a plane take off as he did in that moment. It was carrying everything he held dear off to a faraway place. 

“Please come back to me, Cass.”

[deadpresidents]

Carter has passed Garner! He now holds ALL the records for anyone who has ever been President or VP! Only Alf Landon's still stands and he was never President!

Yes, you are correct! Jimmy Carter has now passed John Nance Garner on the list of longest-living Presidents or Vice Presidents (here was that list at the beginning of September). And we are 10 days away from President Carter becoming the first President or Vice President to ever celebrate their 99th birthday. Not bad for a guy who has been in hospice care since February.

And, yes, Alf Landon is the longest-living major party nominee for President or Vice President. Landon was the 1936 Republican Presidential nominee and lost the general election to Franklin D. Roosevelt. Landon was 100 years, 33 days old when he died in 1987. Think about that for a second: Alf Landon was the Republican Presidential nominee when FDR ran for his second term as President, and Landon died when Ronald Reagan had a little over a year left in his Presidency!

BUT, it's worth nothing that while Alf Landon is undoubtedly the longest-living Presidential or Vice Presidential nominee by a major party, he is NOT the longest-living person to ever win Electoral votes as President or Vice President.

In 1948, many Southern Democrats opposed to support for civil rights in the party's platform at the Democratic National Convention bolted from the party and formed the States' Rights or "Dixiecrat" party to run against incumbent Democratic President Harry S. Truman and Republican nominee Thomas Dewey. The Dixiecrats nominated South Carolina Governor (and future longtime Senator) Strom Thurmond as their Presidential nominee. Despite not being a major party nominee, Thurmond and the Dixiecrats, relying on voters in former Confederate strongholds in the South, performed better in the general election than just about any third-party Presidential candidate of the 20th Century.

Thurmond and the Dixiecrats won 4 states and 39 Electoral votes in 1948. In 1936, Republican nominee Alf Landon won two states and just 8 Electoral votes. So Thurmond's racist, third-party challenge performed far better than the GOP nominee had done twelve years earlier.

So, unfortunately, while we're talking about longest-living President or Vice Presidential nominees, we have to throw Strom Thurmond in the conversation considering the fact that he won far more Electoral votes in 1948 than Alf Landon did in 1936. And Thurmond lived longer, as well. Thurmond was 100 years, 203 days old when he died in 2003 -- he lived 170 days longer than Alf Landon did.

Thurmond is also almost certainly the oldest person to ever be one of the top officials in the Presidential line of succession. As I mentioned, Thurmond eventually served in the U.S. Senate from South Carolina -- a seat that he held from 1954-2003 (except for a period of about 7 months in 1956) -- where he eventually became the first (and only, so far) person to serve in Congress after their 100th birthday. Due to his lengthy tenure in office, Thurmond was president pro tempore of the U.S. Senate for several years when his party was in control of the Senate.

As president pro tem, Thurmond was third in the Presidential line of succession, behind the Vice President and Speaker of the House. This meant that, Thurmond was third in the line of succession well after turning 98 years old. In June 2001, Vermont Senator Jim Jeffords announced that he would begin caucusing with the Democrats in the Senate, which gave the Democrats a narrow majority and control in the Senate, However, if Jeffords had not made that decision when he did, Strom Thurmond would have been president pro tempore on September 11, 2001. That means a nearly 99-year-old man would have been third in the Presidential succession at the time of the 9/11 attacks.

[krunchymunchy]

John - P1 // short story

I'm john. I used to work as HR at Grace's Health and Services over in Mesquite. Mostly just handled payroll and logging. My birthday? God, uh; I think April 3rd, 85? So I guess I'm 38? God I haven't been asked that question forever ago. What was I doing day one? Uh, God that was years ago. Quite a blur but let me see if I can recall. I was at my desk when my phone started blasting. My ex-wife was calling saying she took Sophie out of school since she was nearby. Freaking out because I know she damn well knows weekdays are when Sophie is with me, I unlocked my phone and then the alert came on; "EAS: Undead rising." I took my glasses off thinking "What the fuck? Is the EAS hacked or something like what happened in Hawaii years back?" I clicked on the popup and read into the details. "EAS. The CDC has declared a state of Emergency in the following states: Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, Tennessee, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and Virginia. Health experts have confirmed a disease outbreak effecting those who have recently passed away. This disease is known to make those who are infected reanimate and have faster reflexes, increased motor function, and basic navigation. We urge you to stay indoors and avoid all contact with infected individuals. Please ensure to follow the following actions immediately: Secure your home Gather essential survival needs: Water, non-perishable food, weapons Stay informed via official outlets Avoid public areas and large gatherings to avoid the spread of the infection Stay quiet and alert- noise has been affirmed to garner infected individuals attention If you spot an infected individual before death, report all suspected infected to local authorities Follow local evacuation orders. Evac orders will be given to you via local EAS notifications. Remember to stay safe and vigilant. Do not go outside unless approved and safe guarded by military personnel to your evac zone." Shortly after reading that, everyone was freaking out in the office. Suddenly, my coworker Barry turned on the TV. I looked up and watched Governor Reyes on the podium speaking to the camera. "Today, I stand before you with a heavy heart and a sense of responsibility to safeguard our great state and its people. We are facing an unprecedented challenge, a threat to the health and well-being of our communities—a dangerous disease outbreak that requires immediate action. After careful consultation with our state's legal advisors and public health experts, I have taken the difficult decision to declare martial law in Texas. This decision has not been taken lightly. It is crucial that we act swiftly and decisively to contain the spread of this dis-" What happened next had Barry scrambling to turn off the TV, but he dropped it. I'd look back at the TV and witness the Lieutenant Governor, Patrick, rip into the neck of the Governor Reyes, his blue with white stripe suit now red, a dark maroon red. Something you'd see out of one of those cheap horror movies, but this wasn't a horror movie. I saw Samantha pass out from shock as she witnessed essentially our governor get murdered on live television. Shortly after Reyes fell and Patrick continued to devour on Reyes neck like a juicy pork shoulder, three shots rang out, multiple military personnel running over as one of them pushed the camera to the ground, still live, we could only hear the massacre and imagine what was happening. Eventually after around half a minute, it cut to a pre-recorded video of the national anthem. You know, those ones that were recorded during the cold war? Yeah, guess they never got around to rerecording those. The office was practically in chaos as people got shoved, people exiting through the front door, squeezing tightly together like a pack of sheep getting herded into a pen. I left through the back door, making sure I had my keys before I went to my car. I turned on the ignition as I quickly asked Siri to call Ada about Sophie

[ihavenoideas101]

i have a thought about this tiktok situation-

in history class i’m learning about John C Calhoun (if you don’t know who he is he was the vice president of both John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson) now the funny thing is that Adams and Jackson were basically entirely politically opposed (to the point that Adams made the Whigs which was basically the Anti-Andrew-Jackson-Party) Calhoun really agreed and alined himself closer to Jackson - so this posses the question, why did he become Adams’ VP?

Really it was just so he could have power if Adams died, but he also did something else to try and get Jackson, the man he (mostly) agreed with, more power in New England which was a stronghold of Adams supporters at the time.

New England was devolving into the industrial powerhouse of the U.S. Factories were booming and business men were lobbying for something very specific that no one south or west of them wanted - a tariff. It makes sense as to why they wanted it, England had gotten a head start on industrialization especially in the textile industry and they were selling their products in the U.S. Down south however the money maker was agriculture, and a tariff would only hurt them - especially Calhoun’s home state of South Carolina

Calhoun hatched a plan - propose a tariff, just like the ones that New England had been asking for, but at such a high percent that Adams couldn’t fathom signing it - thus losing him his support that got him in office in the first place.

No one knew it was Calhoun who made this ploy - but something threw a wrench in his plan. Adams signed the tariff. He was smart enough to realize that the south wasn’t gonna like him anyway (he was for abolition) and he NEEDED New England to vote for him to even have a chance against Jackson

The south was outraged, especially Calhoun’s home state of South Carolina. What did Calhoun do? He played the other side. Loudly and proudly he sided with the farmers in the south who were completely unaware that he was the one to pass the very tariff he was fighting against - he gave it a nick name “the tariff of abominations” when in reality, it was a tariff of his own creation.

The election came. Andrew Jackson won and Calhoun sat as his VP as well. South Carolina was still in unrest - refusing to enforce the tariff. Finally, a compromise was worked out by Henry Clay (the negotiator of the Missouri compromise and a close ally of Adams) that every year the tariff would lessen until it was back to what it was before Adams had signed the bill.

Great, right? We had a solution, great, but there was still tension between the president and his vice - Calhoun had been a voice for nullification on the state level, directly undermining Jackson’s power, and eventually it got back to Jackson that Calhoun was the one to propose the tariff. Calhoun left his position as VP and eventually continued his political career in South Carolina, but given that now people knew of what he did he never got to any form of federal power again (that I know of)

Now - all i can see today is that Trump did the same thing with tiktok. He is the one that kickstarted this and now he is positioning himself as a hero. This is what people mean when they say history repeats - there is already a play book, and these guys use the same old tricks over and over and over again.

If you get one thing out of this post I hope it’s this - pay attention. politicians have always been scummy, but when they do things in front of your eyes don’t forget it. Calhoun was at least smart about what he did - he hid it. Trump is spitting in your face and expecting you to fall to your knees in praise when he offers you a dirty dish rag

tdlr - politicians have always done this shit and i’m really tired of it (also fuck John C Calhoun and Donald Trump)