#(she's from ecuador)

[neytui]

Blackouts went so crazy yesterday, they cut the light 5 times in a spawn of 12 hours, I thought I was going crazy

[bookwyrminspiration]

I swear the magisterium series went so hard with saying you can bring someone back but you can’t fix death and then they ruined it

LITERALLY! For the age group, it was so raw and poignant and quite effective, in my opinion. Absolutely loved Aaron's brought back wrong story; i've never forgotten the descriptors of when he woke up and his hair and nails were longer because they'd kept growing in death, and how that clued Aaron in. and his screams. the way in the end, Aaron wasn't alive, he was under Call's control; Call told him not to talk about things like that, and he didn't. because he couldn't. Aaron didn't have free will, he had Call's will. the dawning horror when Call realized, and Aaron begging to be put to rest...favorite part of the series for me, I think

then they decided in book five actually we can fix death and are going to bring back Aaron perfectly fine this time <3

WHY. WHY did we do all that then. i HATE it. magisterium fandom unites around a hatred of the golden tower. in my heart aarons dead for real <3

[pumpumdemsugah]

I was thinking about how even though this place doesn't have that many South Americans in comparison to other groups, I attract so many bi or lesbian South American women. El Salvador, Ecuador, Colombia and some unconfirmed places

In sixth form there was this one girl that would pay so much attention to me that she didn't to other people. I was sheltered and repressed so I just found it confusing. She was really playful with me ( I was still coming out of being shy ) and did this the minute she met me to the point her friend who was also my friend asked if I knew her. Eventually I'd play along

I remember asking my friend that sort of introduced us " does she dislike me? Am I being... bullied ?" And she said no, she likes being around you. She has the personality of a mischievous teen boy

She was just a massive homo for me but we were awkward 16/17yros and it was the 00s in east London. I would say it wouldn't happen but there was a Black girl in my art class that had a gf. I didn't know Caribbean girls could have an entire girlfriend and not get kicked out. It riveted me. NO! I DIDN'T PUT ANYTHING TOGETHER! She was scared of spiders and I wasn't so I'd kill spiders in our class for her

[malaierba]

Normal activities

We need more stories about Zaimoku trying weird and sketchy beauty protocols, and by that I mean more stories about Totty learning about the latest weird trends (being stung by bees, peelings, ice baths) and wanting to try them so badly but also being so scared and roping Karamatsu into it and also flaking on him half of the time

[loviely]

i miss my best friend

[jesskasb]

top 10 people from my home country that wouldve been glorious dykes and fags if they weren't constrained by the limits of their society

[woahajimes]

why are all the marissas better than me

[nozomijoestar]

it is time for me to start looking at Lithuania

[radicallicious]

shared the video on facebook with "poor girl, she looks ugly" as the caption and a friend rushed to the comments and said i was the ugly one and that she looked beautiful..... how? where?

[batboyblog]

2024 Senate Elections: You'd Better VOTE!

Yes it's election year yet again in America! but not just for President, almost as important will be the US Senate!

I'm not gonna lie this is a rough map for Democrats, we're playing a lot of defense in some pretty red states with even our best hopes for a pick up being pretty long shots. But even with narrow control of the Senate we've managed the biggest climate bill in American History a huge infrastructure bill thats bring high speed rail to America capped the price of insulin changed the law to allow Medicare to negotiate drug prices bring savings to everyone, and put over 160 federal judges on the bench, 2/3rds of whom are women and/or people of color the first time white men haven't been the majority of nominees by a President. So let's keep progress going by voting for, supporting, donating, and volunteering for the following candidates in the races that will decide the US Senate this year.

Arizona

Ruben Gallego (Hold)

After frustrating Democrats by repeatedly voting against major Democratic priorities, supporting the filibuster and putting donors over voters, Arizona Senator Kyrsten Sinema left the Democratic Party to become an independent in 2022. Democratic congressman Ruben Gallego was running to primary Sinema before she left the party and is now the likely Democratic nominee to unseat her and give Arizona the Democratic Senator it deserves. Gallego is a former Marine, combat veteran, Harvard grad, a former state representative, and since 2014 a member of Congress. Gallego is a member of the Progressive Caucus and is known for his blunt and combative style standing up to Republicans. In Congress Gallego has been a strong supporter of native rights advocating for tribes on health care and child welfare issues. Gallego is also the sponsor of a bill to bring about nation wide, free, all-day kindergarten which isn't available in many states. If elected Gallego would be Arizona's first hispanic Senator. Republicans hope that the Democratic vote will split between Sinema and Gallego allowing them to win this important seat. The Republican front runner is conspiracy theorist and Trump super fan, Kari Lake. Lake rose to national fame in 2021 for pushing conspiracy theories about Trump having won the 2020 election, as well as anti-mask and anti-vaccine Covid conspiracies. Lake was the Republican nominee for Arizona governor in 2022. During that campaign she ran on an aggressive anti-LGBT platform, saying she'd ban drag, and was against trans rights. Lake also is against Abortion in all cases. After losing to Democrat Katie Hobbs, Lake refused to concede, and still pushes the conspiracy theory that she's the rightful governor of Arizona. If you live in Arizona please make sure you vote, but more if you have any time between now and November, volunteer to help Gallego! and if you don't live there you can still Donate or buy a pro-choice shirt from his campaign!

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Florida

Debbie Mucarsel-Powell (Flip)

Florida's current Republican Senator Rick Scott is a right wing extremist pushing dangerous ideas even by the standards of the Modern GOP. During his first term as Senator Scott has pushed to defund the IRS, and the Department of Education. He's sponsored bills to punish schools that allow students to use preferred pronouns, to ban affirmative action, bans teaching critical race theory, and ban trans people from women's sports. Scott is against abortion in all cases. Most alarming Rick Scott proposed a radical plan that would "sun-set" ANY and all federal laws after 5 years, including Social Security and Medicare, Scott would place all federal programs and agencies on the chopping block every 5 years for a radical Republican minority to block their renewal and leave us without Social Security, or the EPA, to name just two examples. The likely Democratic nominee is former Congresswoman Debbie Mucarsel-Powell. Born in Ecuador, Mucarsel-Powell immigrated to the US when she was 14 and had work to help support her family. When she was elected to Congress in 2018 she became the first South American born immigrant and first person of Ecuadorian heritage to be elected to Congress. In Congress Mucarsel-Powell was a member of the Progressive caucus, she fought to expand medicare, and secured $200 million for Everglades restoration. After a narrow defeat in 2020 Mucarsel-Powell joined the gun control advocacy group Giffords to fight for gun control a personal issue for her after her father was murdered when she was 24. If you're in Florida please make sure you vote, and Volunteer to help remove on of the most extreme Senators, If you're not in Florida you can help Debbie win by donating.

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Michigan

Elissa Slotkin (hold)

Long time Democratic Senator Debbie Stabenow is retiring this election, so there will be a tough fight for control of this important swing state Senate seat. The likely Democratic nominee is Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin is a former CIA analyst, after retiring from the CIA she worked in the State and Defense departments during the Obama administration. Slotkin was first elected to Congress in 2018 winning and being re-elected in a tough swing district. In Congress she's fought for common sense gun control, supported the cap on insulin prices and Medicare drug price negotiation, she helped pass a law on drug price transparency, she championed the CHIP act to bring high tech manufacturing jobs back to America, and was a big supporter of Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Slotkin is centering a pro-choice message in her campaign as well as gun control and bring down medical costs. Who the Republicans will pick isn't totally clear, it seems like it's between Former Congressman Mike Rogers and former Detroit Police chief James Craig. Craig ran for Michigan governor in 2022 before he was disqualified for fraudulent signatures on his nominating petition. Craig has listed cutting off US support to Ukraine as one of his top priorities, and endorsed Trump's 3rd run for President early in the primaries. Mike Rogers is also trying to win over Trump voters and has attacked the rights of LGBT students in schools calling it "social engineering". If you live in Michigan make sure to get out and vote, and also volunteer! And for everyone outside the state you can donate or buy some merch.

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Montana

Jon Tester (re-elect)

In most contexts Montana is a deep red state going for Trump in 2020 57% to 40%. This makes the reelection of Montana's only Democratic member of Congress and only statewide elected Democrat, Jon Tester maybe the toughest election for Democrats this year. A Senator since he was first elected in 2006 Tester has won a series of upset wins in Montana over the years. A 3rd generation farmer Tester has been as strong for small farmers and ranchers in Washington. Tester has always been a champion of accountably and transparency in government pushing ethnics and campaign finance reforms. Tester is rated one of the most effective senators and managed to pass more bills last year than any one else in Congress. He's never been afraid to stand up for the Democratic side even if it'd be an unpopular vote in Red Montana. Tester voted to impeach Trump twice, and he voted against all 3 of Trump's nominees to the Supreme Court. He supported President Obama on The Affordable Care Act and Dodd-Frank, and has supported President Biden on the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Republicans seem likely to nominate right wing influencer and former Navy SEAL Tim Sheehy. Sheehy promises to get drag queens out of schools and the Lord's Prayer in to the classroom. He also hopes to repeal Obamacare calling for a "total privatization" of health care and made statements against the very idea of health insurance, insisting people should pay full price at point of use. If you're a Montanan make sure to vote to re-elect a champion of the little guy, and also volunteer! if you're not please think of donating what you can, if you can only give to one campaign this cycle this one, or Ohio are the most important!

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Nevada

Jacky Rosen (re-elect)

First elected to Congress in 2016 Jacky Rosen moved up to the Senate in 2018. In her first term as a Senator Rosen has championed green energy for Nevada. Together with fellow Democratic Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto, Rosen has gotten millions for solar manufacturing in Nevada as well as millions to replace the state's school buses with electric, and programs to study new groundbreaking green technology. Senator Rosen has been a supporter of gun control, is in favor of banning assault weapons. She sponsored a bill, the Background Check Expansion Act, that would require background checks for all gun sales closing loopholes for on-line sales and gun shows. Rosen is pro-choice and has sponsored a bill to protect doctors from being prosecuted across state lines for providing reproductive care, and is a co-sponsor of a bill to codify Roe V. Wade into federal law. Rosen will likely face Republican celebrity and army veteran Sam Brown. Brown ran and lost a race for the Texas State House in 2014 and ran and lost for Nevada's other Senate seat in 2022. Brown stated he was in favor of getting rid of the Departments of Education, Transportation, and Energy. Brown is against Red Flag gun laws that allow police to temporarily remove fire arms from the home of someone deemed a danger to themselves or others. Brown also has refused to say if he supports a national abortion ban, but does say he's pro-life and wouldn't support any judges that weren't. If you live in Nevada make sure to get out to vote and volunteer to protect the state's green future and the right to reproductive care. If you're not in Nevada consider donating or buying some merch.

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Ohio

Sherrod Brown (re-elect)

Ohio together with Montana represents the toughest re-elect for Democrats this year. The state went for Trump twice, elected a right wing radical, JD Vaince, to the Senate in 2022 and has had a Republican governor since 2010. To complicate thing more Democrat Sherrod Brown is one of the most progressive members of the Senate, regularly scoring along side Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for the most left wing in the Senate. From the time he was first elected to Congress in 1992 Brown refused to take the Congressional Health Insurance until all Americans could be covered. Brown first supported a Medicare for all bill in 2006 and has supported different efforts to expand Medicare and health coverage. He was a key supporter of the Children Health Insurance Program (CHIP). Brown is a strong supporter of unions and has struggled his whole career to protect unionized manufacturing jobs in Ohio. He was one of the first Senators out on the picket line during the UAW strike of 2023. Brown's hard work has help make Ohio the center of a new booming lithium battery manufacturing in America, a green manufacturing future for the state. Republicans look likely to nominate former used car dealer and father-in-law of Republican Congressman Max Miller, Bernie Moreno. Moreno's main qualification seems to be having been endorsed by Donald Trump. He lists among his priorities "End Socialism in America" and "End Wokeness and Cancel Culture". If you're in Ohio make sure to vote to re-elect a progressive giant and volunteer too! If you live out of Ohio donate, if you're looking for the race where your dollar will matter the most, this one or Montana guys.

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Pennsylvania

Bob Casey Jr. (re-elect)

First elected in 2006 Bob Casey famously beat incumbent Republican homophobe Rick Santorum by 17 points. Since first entering the Senate Casey has moved leftward on a number of issues. First elected as a pro-Gun Democrat since 2012 Casey has sponsored a number of bills to expand background checks, ban assault weapons, ban extended magazines, and well as supporting mental health funds for victims of gun violence. For a number of years Casey was called the last pro-life Democrat in the Senate, however in 2022 he came out in support of Roe V Wade and voted twice on bills that would have codified the right to an abortion into federal law. Casey voted against all 3 of Trump's Supreme Court picks and has long supported Planned Parenthood's contraception efforts with federal funds, seeing easily available birth control as key to reducing the number of abortions. In 2021 Casey published a plan he called "The Five Freedoms for America's Children" modeled after FDR's famous speech. He proposed automatically enrolling all kids in Medicaid, an expanded child tax cut, a federally supported college fund for all kids who's parents make under $100,000, expanded free school meals, more funds for head start and abuse prevention programs. Republicans are rallying behind Mitch McConnell's hand picked candidate, hedge fund CEO David McCormick. McCormick worked for the Bush administration during Bush's second term. McCormick's wife Dina Powell also worked for the George W. Bush administration and was a senior aid to Trump as well. If you're in Pennsylvania make sure to get out and vote for a solid Democrat out to solve child poverty in America and keep the Hedge Fund guy from Connecticut out, and Volunteer if you can. Remember you can donate where ever you are.

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Texas

Colin Allred (flip)

Texas is currently represented by likely the most hated man in Washington, Ted Cruz. Republicans hate him, Democrats hate him more, he has a very punchable face, he might be the zodiac killer (thats a joke and meme). From shutting down the government in 2013 to try to overturn Obamacare, to leading the charge in Congress to overturn the 2020 election on January 6th Ted Cruz is a greatest hits of the worst parts of the Republican Party of the last 10 years. When Texas lost power in the middle of a historic ice storm in 2021 Ted Cruz and family ditched the state to go on vacation in Mexico, classy. Cruz in the Biden years has cast himself as a culture warrior fighting against "woke" publishing a book "Unwoke: How to Defeat Cultural Marxism in America" in 2023 to kick off his re-election campaign. Texas is a traditionally red state but things are starting to shift and in 2018 Cruz narrowly won re-election over Beto O'Rourke. Democrats hope with the right candidate they can turn Texas blue and beat the most hated Senator in America. Democrats think Congressman Colin Allred is the man for the job. Allred is a former NFL Linebacker for the Titans. After the NFL he went on to get his law degree from UC Berkeley, and work in the Obama administration. Allred was first elected to Congress in 2018, unseating a Republican who'd been in office since 1997 and becoming the first Democrat to represent the area in Congress since 1968. In Congress Allred has supported bills to expand voting right and protect abortion rights, as well as gun control. In the Senate he promises to address Texas' shaky power grid and make sure Texas is never left in the dark again with its leaders missing. Lets do this Texas, make blue Texas a reality if you live in Texas remember to vote and volunteer, if you're an American who hates Ted Cruz you can donate to make in unemployed.

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Wisconsin

Tammy Baldwin (re-elect)

When Tammy Baldwin first ran for Congress in 1998 she was the first openly gay person elected to the US House and the first open Lesbian to serve in Congress. In 2012 she became the first openly gay person elected to the US Senate and the first Lesbian to be a Senator, she is still the only openly gay Senator. Through out her time in office Baldwin has been a tireless voice for LGBT rights, in 2022 she helped spear head the passage of the Respect for Marriage Act to help protect gay marriage, she's also a sponsor of the Equality Act to protect all LGBT people from discrimination. Baldwin is a progressive who was a member of the House Progressive caucus, opposed the Iraq War and supported impeaching Dick Cheney. In the House she introduced bills for a single payer healthcare system in 2000, 2002, 2004, and 2005. In the Senate Baldwin is regularly listed as one of the most progressive members, voting against tax cuts for the rich, supporting a bill to require companies to have workers on their boards, she sponsored a bill to create a public option in Health Care, and has supported gun control efforts. The Republican field to challenge Senator Baldwin is uncertain, but former Milwaukee sheriff David Clarke dominates the polls if he decides to run. Clarke's sheriff's department is accused a number of human rights violations from his time as sheriff, including allowing a prisoner to die of dehydration after 6 days without water in the Milwaukee County Jail. Clarke is a Trump super fan who has pushed conspiracy theories about mass shootings being fake, attacked Black Lives Matter, called Planned Parenthood "Planned Genocide", and called for the mass detention without trial of Americans because he believed there were a million ISIS supporters in America. If you're in Wisconsin make sure to get out and vote for a trailblazing icon and also volunteer if you can, all Americans can donate and support Baldwin wherever they are.

VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP

If you're an American citizen and will be 18 years old (or older) by November 5th 2024, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! make sure you're registered to VOTE please check Vote.Org to find out what you need to do, what deadlines there are and act NOW

If you're an American living outside the US, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO VOTE. Please checkout Vote From Aboard they have literally all the information you need to get registered and get your ballot wherever in the world you are, and Check out Democrats Abroad to take part in the global primary

Where ever you live in the US, there is an important life changing election happening! Get off your phone or computer and get involved, There are Events happening all around you right now Volunteer

Finally if you're a US citizen of any age any where on earth you can donate, donate to elect Biden/Harris donate to elect Democrats to the Senate, To the House, to Governorships, to local office

and the smallest thing you can do is reblog this very long post, thank you!

[rememberwren]

A Girl (Not Mine) || 1

Ghost is a little obsessed with Soap and a lot obsessed with Soap's girlfriend--you.

About this: ghoap/fem!reader, suspension of disbelief regarding anything military related is actually necessary for enjoyment, canon-typical trauma for Simon, intrusive thoughts, slut shaming, voyeurism, fingering, accidentally seeing nudes not meant for you, poor writing unless you squint, try squinting. 4k

-

“I’m so glad I got a girl to think of, 

Even though she isn’t mine.”

-

The first time Johnny mentions you, the 141 is fresh from a month-long leave.

Ghost has a love-hate relationship with time spent off duty. He’d like to enjoy it—to do fuck all, to hike through Clayton Vale twice in a day if it suits him, to drink tea for every meal. But all leave does is remind him of the glaring emptiness in his life, the one he usually fills with violence. So he spent the month climbing up the walls and crawling out of his skin, waiting to be called back like a dog brought to heel. 

Here was his comeuppance for craving something to fucking do instead of relaxing the way Price had told him to do. Now they were on their way to San Lorenzo in Ecuador dealing with Ghost’s least favorite flavor of criminal: drug cartels. 

It’s too close to Mexico. Too close to that which he would forget gladly if it didn’t come with the loss of so many valuable skill sets. He’s crawling out of his skin for a whole new reason, watching the water fly by beneath them, deep in memories. 

Ghost takes all those feelings, fears, remembrances and swallows them whole. Lets them sink to a sour, dark place in his belly. He sits tense on the helo, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle a familiar weight across his knees. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes, swallowing against the rising nausea. 

He only has half an ear on Garrick and Johnny’s conversation beside him, but it is all he needs to follow along. 

“—lass of my own now,” Johnny is saying around a laugh, his accent thick enough to chafe at Ghost’s skin in a way he doesn’t want to examine, one that leaves him feeling raw but not necessarily hurt. “So no more picking up the barflies back in Hereford.”

“She making an honest man out of you, Tav?” 

“Aye, you could say that.” Johnny sounds proud of the fact. It all is so far from anything Simon has experienced in his life that he feels no distant stirring of empathy, not even a muted sense of familiarity in the words. Honest men do not exist. 

Not to mention, Simon’s never had a woman (willingly) and he never will. 

“You love her?” Garrick asks, earnestly interested to hear the answer. Ghost couldn’t care less.

“Aye. There’s something special about her.” 

“What, she’s cool with anal?”

Johnny crows with laughter, and now Ghost does feel something: annoyance, cloying, creeping up his spine like a spider in a web headed for the wiggling maggot of his brain. 

“Will you two ever shut up?” he snaps. “Not a moment’s fucking peace since we boarded.”

“Sorry LT,” Johnny says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Ghost cuts his eyes toward the other man, assessing for honesty. Johnny’s face is too expressive: brows lifted, eyes wide and earnest, mouth tipped into a tiny grimace, like the thought of irritating Ghost gives him real pain. Between the two of them, Ghost can’t help but think that it’s Johnny who needs a mask if he wants to survive in the world. 

Ghost doesn’t have the energy for this. He goes back to watching the scenery pass by. They are over trees now: thick lush jungle, the scent of which he associates with pain—plenty of which was his own. Plenty of which he caused to others. 

“What about you, LT?” Johnny asks, calling out over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Do you have a woman back home?”

Ghost lets his head turn, slow and dangerous. Johnny’s audacity never fails to surprise him. “What do you think, Johnny?”

“Honestly?” 

“Go on, then.”

“You look like if yeh’ve got a woman, she’s probably locked in yer basement.” 

(right where she’d belong.)

Garrick slaps Johnny’s thigh, his face mottled with panic. He hisses under his breath, something like, There are faster ways to die, Tav! Less painful ways, too, Ghost thinks. He fixes Johnny with a dead stare. The silence stretches, growing long and thin and dangerous, like the blade of a knife, until Johnny looks away. 

“Think less about my private life, Sergeant,” he warns him. 

“Not often you tell me to think less, LT.” 

Ghost just grunts, finished with the conversation, returning his unseeing eyes to the trees and slipping back into his own memories. 

-

That should be—well, not the end of it. He expects Johnny to become insufferable about it; that’s just the other man’s way. Still, Ghost had never expected to see you. 

He’s doing paperwork in the rec room, too stifled by the tiny, enclosed space of his office to remain there. Paperwork and debriefing are always his least favorite parts of an op. Give him a gun with which to kill and he will gladly kill; give him a pen with which to write and he spends half the time thinking about burying it in his own eye. Garrick and Johnny are there nearby fucking around on their phones having finished with their easy portion of the work ages ago. 

A phone is what Johnny thrusts beneath Ghost’s nose. It takes all of his mental fortitude not to flinch away from the unexpected action (or, more likely, not to rip Johnny’s arm off and beat him half to death with it). His eyes flicker down to the screen on instinct and—there you are. 

You have one eye squinted shut, your hand up to create a visor against the overbearing sun. The picture shows you from the bust upwards, and Simon sees it for approximately one full second before he grips Johnny’s wrist in a brutal hold and forces the hand and the phone away. 

It’s already too late. He’s committed you to memory. The way your hair sits, its color in the blistering sun. The curve of your lips (fuckable, he thinks against his will) as you give Johnny behind the camera an exasperated smile. The arch of your nose (images now—fingers pinching noses shut, forcing mouths further down his cock just to watch them choke and struggle)—

“Get that out of my face,” he grits out through his teeth. His thoughts won’t stop, not now that the floodgates have been opened, and it makes him feel like a dog backed into a corner, frightened-violence rising up in the back of his throat like bile. 

—the smooth line of your throat (and his hands around it, choking the light from your eyes just to fuck you when you’re soft and pliable and he doesn’t have to listen to you crying and begging)—shut UP!—

“It’s just my girl, sir,” Johnny laughs, his own eyes flickering back down to your image on the phone, like they are drawn to you. Like it is hard to look away. Ghost doesn’t have that problem—he has some  discipline left. “And it’s not as if she’s naked.” 

Ghost grips the pen in his hand so tightly that the plastic shell cracks. He’s barely keeping it together, sick and afraid and horrified and angry that Johnny has done this to him—has done this to his own girl—

His voice is rough when he croaks out: “What makes you think I care to see her, Sergeant?” 

“‘S it wrong to share the most important person in my life with the other most important people in my life?” Johnny says, eyes too guileless to be taken seriously. 

“Share less,” he snaps. 

“Been saying that to me an awful lot lately, sir.” 

“A good Sergeant would take my words to heart.” 

“A good lieutenant would know a futile lesson when it’s biting him in the arse.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Johnny. As much as I hate paperwork, I’d write you up—gladly.” 

Johnny gapes. “What for?”

Ghost grins without mirth, mask stretching around his features. Even grinning cruelly like this, his face feels unused to any expression that is adjacent to happiness. He swears darkly: “I’ll find a reason.”

It would send anyone else running. Even Garrick looks fearful, though fascinated: the same look a man wears when he’s watching a car crash in progress. But if sense were dynamite, Johnny wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose. Instead, he just flops down on the couch close enough to flutter the pages in Ghost’s lap. Close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Jesus, you’re a tadger today,” Johnny says quietly, boot knocking against Ghost’s, a touch he feels all the way up his leg. “Shove off some of that paperwork on us. What’s the use of being a lieutenant if you can’t lord it over your sergeants?”

“I’m sorry, us?” Garrick asks. 

“I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Johnny,” Ghost says coldly, gathering his papers. His elbow brushes against Johnny’s ribs, the firm, burning warmth of the other man’s body. He jerks away. He’ll take the stifling seclusion of his office, that makeshift coffin, before he subjects himself to any more of this. “You’d do well to follow my example.”

-

Ghost resolutely does not think of you. Not during quiet lazy moments on base, not during the frustration of training recruits, especially not during the eerie calm of missions. You do not cross his mind. 

His dreams are another thing altogether. 

There are the dreams where he hurts and the dreams where he is hurting, and he doesn’t know which are worse. He only knows that they are made worse by your strange presence: your body bent and being broken in by others; you, bent and being broken in by him. He wakes in cold sweats, jaw aching from gritting his teeth in his sleep. 

He hates himself for this last place where he cannot execute control: his subconscious. 

-

“Mail?” Johnny asks cheerfully at the sight of Garrick seated on the bench outside the DFAC, a stack of papers and letters laying on his lap. 

Johnny is sweaty, gray t-shirt clinging to his toned body as he (for once) keeps a companionable silence at Ghost’s side. They have been training recruits all day—work which Ghost considers far beneath his pay grade, but which he can’t refuse when ops are so slow to arrive and when he is so eager (desperate) to keep busy. Ghost lets himself sit heavily on the bench a safe distance away from Garrick, sweat cooling on his own body. 

He’s not ready to be alone yet. 

He’s allowed to do that. To want company. Of all the people on base, Garrick and Johnny (and Price) might be the most tolerable of the lot of them. During the rare moments when the pitiful piece of humanity left inside him craves companionship, this is the least painful method to mainline it. 

He ignores the lack of letters for him. There is no mail for Ghost—there never is. 

Garrick passes Johnny no less than four envelopes. Johnny’s soft smile as he flips through them speaks volumes. Ghost can guess who they’re from: his mother likely, who writes as often as she can. One of his various sisters, surely. Take your pick.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Johnny flip through the letters and settle on one in particular, thicker than the others, tearing it open and tugging the letter out. 

The pictures slip from the folded piece of paper and fall to the ground. 

Johnny dives to grab them, but all it does is bring Garrick’s attention to them more. Even Ghost’s interest is piqued, his dark eyes giving up pretending to watch the recruits limp back to their barracks to shower before dinner and following Johnny’s hasty movements instead, watching the hot flush that crawls up the back of his Sergeant’s neck. 

“What are those?” Garrick asks. 

“No’ a thing.” 

Garrick lights up. He practically tosses his letter to the side. “She sent you pictures?” 

“Possibly,” Johnny says smuggly, the images—old fashioned Polaroids, a nice touch—pressed to his chest. His eyes narrow at the expression on Garrick’s face. “Don’t even think about it, Gaz—!”

Garrick pounces. The two begin grappling, both of their faces split into wide grins. Johnny can only defend himself with one arm, his other protectively clutching the photographs to his bosom. They take each other to the ground and Ghost watches, half interested and half irritated, wondering who will win. 

The pictures go flying—and fate’s invisible bitch of a hand causes them to land at Ghost’s feet. Garrick and Johnny freeze.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, the same way he knows that he’s going to. Ignoring their renewed struggles on the ground as they fight to untangle themselves and stand, he leans down and reaches for the photographs.

The white of the Polaroid’s edges contrast nicely with his dark gloves as he gathers the pictures together like a deck of scattered cards. 

“LT—“

They’re relatively tame. Perhaps you knew the high risk of sending them. In one you are kneeling on a bed amongst a sea of mussed, white sheets, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that you have tugged down between your parted thighs to offer yourself some modesty. It is painful to flip to the next one, but pain calls to Ghost, lures him in. In another you’re wearing some strappy lingerie but still covered artfully by the sheets, both hands covering your eyes, a grin on your face like you are mid laugh. Did Johnny take these photos of you himself? Did a stranger? A friend? Another shows your side profile, back arched, topless, every inch of you curved and poised. 

You’re (a filthy little slut) so fucking pretty. 

“Give ‘em back, LT, please,” Johnny asks gently, like he expects Ghost to tear them to shreds. Or confiscate them. 

Ghost drops the photographs to the bench, wishing he could scrub the images of you from his mind. He shouldn’t have picked them up in the first place. It’s adding fuel to the fire of his broken brain, and he knows that he will pay for it dearly. 

Johnny is talking. “—shy, she’d just die to know you saw.”

“She’ll only know if you tell her, Johnny,” Ghost reminds him. His mouth feels numb, his brain the quiet granted by white noise, a conglomerate of screams. 

Johnny frowns. “Suppose so. You alright?” 

“Since Ghost saw—“ 

“No, Gaz.” 

Ghost watches the two of them enter the building. 

His hand burns, where he has palmed the picture of you topless. He stands and slips the Polaroid into his back pocket. It’s on the tip of his tongue to call out for Johnny and give him the picture back—he could find some excuse, and Johnny would believe him, he knows it—but he doesn’t. He makes for his room, feeling sick with himself. He isn’t hungry. Not for food. 

-

Ghost is compromised. 

The thought replays in his mind over and over again as he drives to Price’s house in Solihull. You and Johnny have crawled beneath his skin and infected him, dug your way into his DNA and are affecting everything from his decision making capabilities to his dreams. He knows that going anywhere where you both will be is a mistake, but it’s one he can’t seem to help hurdling himself toward at high speed. 

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel. He only does what he allows himself to do—no more. The others will be there at least, Garrick and Price and Johnny himself. Physical barriers between him and you. Human meat shields, if necessary. Ghost wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you. (But who would stop him if he tried? Who could?) You are safe, he tells himself. 

He is the last to arrive, dragging his feet up the concrete steps to the two story brick historical home that Price owns. He lets himself in the way that Price told him to and can tell by the eerie silence of the house that everyone is already outside enjoying the well-landscaped yard. Already he sees the evidence of you: a purse (go through it) laid neatly on the dining room table. He sets his keys beside it but does not touch it. 

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to delay the inevitable. Every part of him wants to run, but that’s all he’s ever wanted his whole life. He’s used to it by now, used to being forced to walk toward the thing which terrified him. He squares his shoulders and slides open the patio door, slipping back out into the muggy heat of the afternoon, face mask in place, hood up.  

The landscaping is one of the best features of Price’s house. The privacy fence is tall and appealing to Ghost’s seclusive nature, the lawn neatly clipped. There is a hedgerow running along the southern edge of the fence that is meticulously maintained. Flower beds lined with bricks rest along the house full of geraniums and phlox. The patio is smooth stone with an inlaid fire pit that would be crackling if the weather were any milder. An iron-wrought table sits nearby surrounded by chairs, and seated there are Garrick, Johnny, and Price. 

You are over by the flowers, kneeling in the soft grass, picking phlox just a few shades darker than the sundress you’re wearing, the one that skims your soft thighs. Ghost’s eyes roam over you and away all before your head even turns at the sound of the door opening. 

“LT,” Johnny calls, lighting up. “You made it!” 

“Didn’t think you’d show, Lieutenant,” Garrick says with a smile. 

“As if he’s got something better to be doing than spending time with us,” Johnny crows. 

“Jesus, will you two leave the man alone? Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already regretting coming,” Price says. Ghost inclines his head, grateful for the backup. 

He hears your approach, the soft sound of your flats against the patio stone. You are small (weak) compared to him, craning your head up to look in his eyes. He hates the dark part of his brain that calls you easy prey as he watches you twist the phlox stems between anxious fingers. 

“You must be Simon—” Johnny shakes his head a little, subtle, visible only out of the corner of Ghost’s eye. “—ah—Ghost? I mean—” 

“I don’t care what you call me,” he admits.

“Ghost,” you settle where it is nice and safe. “It’s nice to meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” Ghost says flatly, hoping you will not mistake it for a compliment. 

Garrick snorts. “Never shuts up about you is more likely.”

There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, so you sit on Johnny’s lap, legs crossed demurely, skirt riding up around your upper thighs. He wonders about the softness of your skin, wonders if his calloused touch would hurt you or if you’re used to Johnny’s by now. He could make it hurt. The thought doesn’t come with any zing of pleasure, just the cold apathy of fact. Has Johnny ever tried that? Has he ever—

Ghost’s gloved hand clenches into a fist, curling around the iron armrest of the chair. He takes a measured breath and holds it until his lungs ache. Those thoughts aren’t his own. They come from the dark part that Roba seeded inside him, that part with creeping vines too deep to root out. That part with thorns. 

He could hurt you, the same way he could hurt anyone, he tells himself. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to. 

He does only what he allows himself to do. No more. No less. 

You and Johnny stand, heading into the house to retrieve a round of drinks for everyone. Ghost watches Johnny’s hand dip low on your back to the curve of your ass as he guides you through the open door, shutting it behind you. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” Price asks around a cigar. “I know meeting new people isn’t exactly in your repertoire.”

“Don’t mother me.”

“Don’t have to be your mother to care about you.”

“Garrick—get lost,” Ghost barks. 

The iron chair legs screech against the stone of the patio as Garrick stands hastily. “Had the same thought, sir. Hedges look lovely this time of year.”

When Garrick is properly out of earshot, pretending to find amusement in the neat hedgerows along the fence line, Ghost says: “I shouldn’t have come. I’m… I— can’t be left alone with her.” 

“With—? Soap’s gal?”

Ghost grits his teeth in shame and nods. 

“Do you know her?” 

Ghost shakes his head in the negative, but it’s not necessarily true. He knows a thousand women just like her, soft and unexpecting. The betrayal always cuts deeper than his cock could reach (estoy preso, somos lo mismo, por favor).

He stands, chair legs dragging against the stone. “This was a mistake. I need to leave.” 

“If you say so,” says Price, knowing better than to argue. “Go around the side. You won’t even have to see them.” 

“My keys are inside. I’ll be quick.” 

“Take care of yourself, Simon,” says Price, his eyes dark and lips downturned as he watches Ghost stalk to the patio door and slip inside. 

-

He braces himself to see you and Johnny in the kitchen, but when the door slides open near-silent, neither of you are anywhere to be seen. Like a fool, he considers himself lucky. Quiet as his namesake, Ghost goes to the table and picks up his keys, palming them. 

That’s when he hears it. The unmistakable muted slap of flesh on flesh. 

(Go look.)

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, but that is his modus operandi these days: failing himself, doing what he isn’t meant to, seeing what is not for his eyes. His feet carry him silently to the door, which is cracked open just wide enough for him to see through into the room. It is a guest bedroom judging by the bland decor, the queen sized bed. Johnny has you sprawled on it, your sundress hitched up around your waist, his fingers buried to the final knuckle inside your cunt. Ghost can hear the way it squelches from all the way outside the door, knows that you must be dripping down Johnny’s wrist. 

“Keep quiet, love,” Johnny pants, one hand over your mouth (he’s not doing it right) to muffle the whines and groans trying to slip past your lips. “Needy little thing, aren’t yeh? Squirming in my lap, making my cock hard right there in front of my Captain, in front of my Lieutenant—“

You whine something back, but it is lost into his palm. 

“Don’t have time to get my cock in you,” Johnny sighs, twisting his fingers inside you, hooking them to press against that tender spot past your pubic bone that has your knees knocking together. He shifts his palm down to grip your neck, your panting breaths filling the room. “But you can bet this dress is coming off as soon as we’re home, do y’hear me?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, and it has Ghost’s cock throbbing. 

This is not for him. He thinks about Johnny’s words from months ago: that you are shy. There’s no chance you would ever want to be seen like this by him. Reaching out, he grips the doorknob and quietly tugs the door closed, til the sound of Johnny’s palm slapping against your clit is muffled behind the wood. 

He takes his keys and is gone before you ever know he was there. 

-

Johnny texts him later that night: 

Why’d you leave early, you numpty? We wanted more time with you. 

Ghost doesn’t respond. He’s too busy spiraling in his own flat, losing control every few minutes and slipping back into that place of pain and blood and dirt. 

An hour later, Johnny ends up adding, My girl wants me to say she was glad she got to meet you. Only Jesus knows why! Ghost definitely doesn’t respond to that. But he doesn’t delete the messages either.

[st4cy-f4kename]

i’ve made and deleted a lot of posts about this because i don’t want to be the angry brown person but fuck it. i will be.

dndads fandom meet a single latine person challenge

(like seriously. it’s well established that this fandom has a racism problem but scrolling through the mercedes oak garcia tag on AO3 gives me brain damage which SUCKS because she is one of my faves. don’t write spanglish if you don’t understand how spanish works. don’t describe a person’s skin color as a food or drink. for the love of god DON’T relegate your latine characters to complicit sex symbols with no agency or opinions.)

(and for the love of god, if you’re white and you want to write any latine characters but don’t know anything about their culture…DO YOUR RESEARCH. i’ve seen people describe merc as mexican or puerto rican and i’m just…tired. the woman is from ecuador. learn about fucking ecuador.)

i feel so isolated in this fandom sometimes and shit like this doesn’t help

[charnelhouse]

Thinking of ghost as a dad makes me think of red taking her toddler son shopping for Halloween decorations and seeing a skeleton and the sweet boy is pointing and bouncing up and down like “it’s dada!”

A/N: Ghost x F!Reader (Red Fox). Pure fluff. This ask made me curl up with joy.

She’s a little late. Only ten minutes and it could be anything: traffic, an additional errand, a parking lot shoot-out. Simon’s fingers twitch as his cell phone sits on the coffee table.

It’s only ten minutes.

Ten. Minutes.

He’d lost her in Ecuador for four fucking days, and she’d been fine. Well, relatively fine. Alive.

She can survive anything. He knows this. He feels this. But he cannot shake the belief that one day, his past will catch up to him and take her away. 

Don’t be a fuckhead, Simon. If it’s anyone’s past, it’s going to be mine. 

That makes me feel better, duchess. 

We’re sharing the burden, babe. Lucky for this kid, he’s got two spec ops, hot-ass parents. 

Yah really love a finger gun, don’t you? 

It’s called levity, dude. You’re too damn broody. 

“Don’t call her.”

Simon startles before side-eyeing Johnny, who is spread out on the far end of the couch. “I wasn’t gonna,” he growls defensively. 

“You’re staring at that phone like it’s a bomb.”

“She’s late.”

“She’s running errands with your enormous toddler. Yah know how hard it is to lift that kid? Try wrestling him into a car seat. Took me half an hour.”

Simon scowls. “Of course, I know. I do raise him.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “He takes after me.”

“Yeah, my enormous son is definitely your kid, tiny.”

“I’m six fuckin’ feet. Thank yah very much.”

“You’re still here?” 

Simon twists around to see Red standing in the doorway. She’s got their son on her hip and an orange plastic bag in her other hand. She leaves him breathless. Her skin dewy, her hair falling in her face. Stunning in a way that burns him. He still wants to shove her over a table and wreck her, but that desire is now weighted with something far more tender. She’s carried his baby.

He knew she’d be a good mother, but he didn’t expect her to excel at it so...perfectly. She can handle a tantrum and peel a man’s skin off.  She can silence him with a look.

“Simon said I could stay for dinner,” Johnny declares.

“I did not,” Simon refutes as he stands, rolling his shoulders. Their son’s tiny lips peel apart into a toothy grin, he claps his chubby hands together. 

“Dada,” he squeals as he opens his arms. 

Ghost smiles back, unable to blunt the joy that unfurls in his chest. Sometimes it’s all too much. 

“He got you something,” Red says as she places him on the floor. When she straightens, she presses her hand to her lower back. “Jesus - that kid is heavy. Remind me to stop having your babies.”

“Uhuh,” Ghost says dutifully. “Of course.”

She’d threatened to leave him a thousand times when she was giving birth. Their son’s head had not been easy to deliver. 

Red pulls something from her bag and hands it to their son, who waddles toward him. Simon crouches and sweeps him up in his arms. The boy squeals again delighted. 

“What have you got there?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose into the down of his son’s head, the soft velvet curls. He smells like Red’s perfume.

“Dada!” he giggles as he lifts a plastic skeleton. Soap barks with laughter. 

“He saw it in the store and lost it,” Red says as she walks toward them, placing a hand on the boy’s back. He shakes the skeleton before hugging it close. “Kept calling it dada. Got a lot of weird looks.” She cocks her head, her tongue darting over her lower lip. “I just wanted everyone to know that I’m getting it from a really hot skeleton.”

“Yah got a filthy head, Foxy.”

“You don’t even live here, Johnny.”

“Dada,” his son murmurs as he burrows his face into Simon’s throat. The skeleton is clutched against his chest, and he feels the boy relax, his damp, milky breath puffing against him as he nods off. 

Simon clears his throat, blinking a few times. There’s a raw snag of emotion in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow. Simon tries to pull the skeleton from the boy’s hands to look at it, but his son yanks it closer. 

“Typical,” Red remarks, her lips quirking in amusement. 

“What is?” Simon smirks because he already knows.

“Do you know how hard it is to shake you off when you’re asleep? It’s like being spooned by a bull slash octopus.”

“It’s true,” Johnny interjects in an empathetic tone. “Remember Siberia?”

“That was a life and death situation!” Simon snaps. “Sub-zero temperatures.”

Red’s eyes widen, her expression intrigued. “Give me the details, Johnny, and I’ll make you dinner.”

[demonstars]

MY PART FOR THE WORLDWIDE DTEAMIES COLLAB. thank you @suenitos for the wonderful idea born in our dms xoxoxo. Anyway. have some ecuadorian dteamies with snf being victims of my favorite carnaval tradition which is To throw water at any traveler during carnaval. translation under the cut!

DRIM: U guys ok? SYLV: ?!? *LAUGH* JORGE: I'm never going out with this guy in carnaval. DRIM: ... At least your hair looks good? JORGE: Don't come at me with faggotery, THEY MASSACRED US. SAPITO: DON'T FUCK WITH ME—

Some details :333

sylvee is drinking inca kola which is actually a peruvian drink but eh. i see it plenty in ecuador. she is also wearing a barcelona (ecu team ver) shirt.

dream is wearing a guayas shirt, which is the costal south region of the country. he is also sporting marathon shorts, which are The sports brand.

it is currently illegal to wet people on the street just because. this doesn't mean that it doesn't keep happening. i like to think snf got the short end of the straw in going outside and through a carnaval street and lost to kids with water guns and balloons, which is something that has happened quite a lot of times to me. i have also thrown water at many people from the sky, to be clear (BEFORE IT WAS MADE ILLEGAL. SMILES.)

george is also wearing marathon and also probably a white shirt because february in ecuador is so hot and humid you really shouldn't be wearing black. sapnap is wearing black because he wanted to use his don ramon shirt. that is a national treasure too, btw. every self respecting man should use one.

i like to think they're coming from super despensa aki for no reason other than I miss my local super despensa aki.

in ecuador you use "man" as you would use "dude", with the thick spanish accent, which i find very funny.

hey kudos to you for making it down this far!

[nightlyrequiem]

Would you consider writing something about detective reader and Valeria? I think it would be so cool that reader is looking for her and she’s fascinated (maybe in a twisted way/maybe she isn’t a really good person) and Valeria is interested in her bc of how she matches Valerias energy. Idk!!

One unhinged woman? I'm in love. Two unhinged women? I died and went to heaven.

I purposefully left the ending a little open ended because I want to come back to this and write a part two someday

I <3 evil women

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Violence, Stalking, Valeria and Reader Fight, Reader Has Questionable Morals

Alikeness

 Observant. Persistent. Obsessive. All qualities that successful detectives should have. You've been doing this for ten years. Like a bloodhound with a scent, no case remains unfinished when assigned to you. A good detective revolves their life around their work. A good detective is her work. You know your preoccupation with your job isn't healthy. You've lost little pieces of yourself every case. Chipped away at yourself until something new and distorted crawled out from it's shell. the newest thing bouncing around inside your skull is El Sin Nombre. A notorious and influential Mexican drug cartel leader. No one has been able find his true identity. Allowing him to live up to his moniker. Your eyes burn as you stare at your computer screen. At three different headshots belonging to three different former special forces officers. He may not even be a he.

Truman Wenchow, Seth Veros, and Valeria Garza. All had gone awol after La Araña had been dethroned. You can feel it deep beneath your skin. An inkling that has never steered you wrong that one of these individuals is your person. Finding out that Seth has died sometime in twenty-twenty narrow things down. Corruption isn't uncommon. Not in Las Almas. the reigning Cartel has always had its claws sunk deep into the local authority systems. Everyone has a price after all. Local is usually where it ends though. El Sin Nombre is far too ambitious to stay in the confines of 'local'. El Sin Nombre has expanded their reach into the hearts of Puerto Rico, Ecuador, El Salvador, and the States. This bleeds deeper than you thought. The closer you get to the truth the more dangerous this becomes.

Only a few weeks ago, just a shy of a month, you began receiving threats. Warnings to stop. It had the opposite affect intended. Your mind glossed over the words spelled out for you and instead rearranged them into something else entirely. 'You're close. Come find me.'  this could very well kill you, you're aware. late nights spent in the darkest corners of the internet have shown you just exactly what cartels are capable of. You find yourself unafraid. You've done similar things in pursuit of answers, and you will do worse to obtain more.

Out of the three suspects on your list, only one still lives in Mexico. as elusive as she is. All you're able to find are traces. Breadcrumbs left behind. Credit card history, grainy camera footage. Government documents. Getting information on Valeria Garza was like pulling teeth. Only a few former brothers in arms were able to offer up meager footnotes about the woman of the past. headstrong, ambitious, violent, efficient. You were able to track down her home, though. An unassuming property located on the quieter side of town. It's not the home one would expect a wealthy drug lord to keep but you've found that exteriors rarely match their interiors.

The sky is clear and inky. A high half-moon and it's thousand glittering eyes watch over you as wait outside of Valeria's home. It's neat and taken care of. There's a single car parked in the driveway. A dark colored SUV. Not a light on inside the house. Valeria is inside. El Sin Nombre is inside. Asleep in one of the rooms. Such a human action for such a monolithic figure. You pull on your gloves and check to make sure your firearm is working before getting out of your car. Seek and destroy. You walk up to Valeria's home with confidence. Sticking close to the rough, stony wall as you head towards the back. The backdoor is naturally locked, and you know already that she doesn't keep a spare key. 

You always come prepared. You deftly pick the lock. Listening for that small click that has accompanied you for every final act. You slowly push open the door. Overly cautious of creaking and step inside. Her kitchen is tidy. Counters free of dishes and bags. A small bowl of fruit that's beginning to rot sits dead center on the kitchen island. You make it two steps inside when she speaks. Hidden away by shadows, glaring at you from the hallway.

"You don't have a warrant to be in here, detective."

 Of course you don't have a warrant. there are leaks in the police department and trying to obtain one is not only a lengthy hassle but could also alert her that you're closing in. You prefer to keep your cards close to your chest. You turn your head to face her. Barely making out her outline.

"No, I don't." You reply calmly. You don't have a warrant. Legally you can't step foot into her home. Not that it matters to you, you have to be above the law to enforce it and there are workarounds to everything. Your heart pounds with excitement and fear. You're finally face to face with El Sin Nombre.

She steps into the kitchen. A sliver of pale moonlight cuts across her face. You can see her better. In a wife beater and sweatpants. A gold chain glinting from around her throat.

"You must have-"

You don't let her finish speaking. You have only one goal in mind and that is to exterminate. You raise your arm with the intent to kill. Her reflexes are faster, and she lunges at you. Knocking your arm down fast enough that the bullet you fire shoots into the ground by her foot. You've been in physical altercations before. Have had to fight off people. However, you were prepared for a fight those times. Valeria is much stronger than you thought. The wind is knocked out of you as you slam into the ground. The gun slides away from you and bumps into the wall but you don't freeze and panic at the loss of your weapon. You're exhilarated. Mustering up the strength to shove her off of you.

You have but a few short seconds to get your bearings before she's coming at you again. A stray punch catches you in the gut. It's nauseatingly painful and you double over, narrowly missing a blow to the head. you shove down the pain and lash out. Slamming your fist into her neck. Valeria splutters but to your dismay she barely reacts. She grabs ahold of your neck and throws you to the ground. Your back smacks down on the hard black and white tiled floor. Pain blooms purple flowers throughout your shoulders as you struggle beneath her. You hear the click of a gun and stare down its barrel. The both of you breathing heavily and regarding each other with caution. Valeria sets a foot down on your chest to keep you still.

"I have you under surveillance." She says quietly. "I was tipped off about you leaving your house. I knew you were coming here."

 Valeria's strength impresses and aggravates you. "Good for you." You reply. There's not much hope that you'll regain the upper hand here, but you cling onto that small slice of it.

"Very good for me."

You silently understand that you haven't succeeded this time. The thought angers you. You're going to die in here on her floor. Your body thrown to the streets for the stray dogs to pick at.

"I suppose this is it for me then." You murmur. deceptively calm. You've done good, but you've also done bad. Maybe this is just your punishment for all the wrongs you've done.

Valeria lowers her arm, keeping her gaze tethered to yours. There's no anger in those dark pits of nothing.

"I couldn't stand you at first." She begins. "Coming into my town and snooping around. I was going to just kill you."

You furrow your brows. "So why didn't you?" You wheeze. You wish she'd take some pressure off of your chest.

"I did my own research." She hums. "You're just an evil little thing."

Your skin prickles at being referred to as evil. "I am not evil. I find it and rid this world of it. Of people like you."

Valeria cocks her head at you, dark brows raised. "You kill the people you uncover." She laughs. "Putting you on a case is like is like putting someone to death. And last I checked it's not up to you to decide of someone is worthy of death."

"I do what needs to be done. You can relate to that, I'm sure. You've had such an impressive career, from military ranks to commanding a cartel. I bet you're very proud." You hiss. Her success is envying.

"It sounds like you admire me." she remarks, adding more pressure to your chest. Pushing out the breath from your lungs.

"You have admirable traits." You admit begrudgingly. "Too bad you used them the wrong way." the pressure is suddenly lifted as she backs up from you. Giving you room to stand. there's a dull ache in your stomach as you do.

"I was going to kill you," She continues, waving the gun at you. "but you're deranged, really. So dedicated to your cause." She says. "And I respect that, I really do. I think you can really hone those skills of yours and become something great."

"I am great." You growl. Disgusted and elated at having her respect. she smiles and trails the gun down your jaw, the cool metal sending goosebumps over your skin. Valeria just scoffs and steps away from you.

"You're arrogant and delusional." She says. "You have potential, come back when you're ready to use it."

You pause, confused.

"You're not going to kill me?" You question. Leaving you alive is a fool's decision and Valeria didn't strike you as a fool. 

"You won't be able to kill me," She says. "and I know you won't go to the police because you like to take credit for finding and 'punishing' people yourself."

Those words make you uncomfortable. It makes you sound like you're only doing it to soothe some deranged urge inside of you. You are doing it for the greater good. Your hands stay dirty to keep the world clean.

"You and I are alike." Valeria remarks quietly. Not looking away from you.

You won't be able to do anything now. Valeria has a gun, and you don't. She's right. About you not going to the police. It's not because you want to the credit. It's not. It's because you don't believe they'll do what needs to be done. Only you can. Police can be bribed, you can't. You raise your chin with defiance and take a step back towards her door.

"Be restless, Valeria." You warn. That's all you say before you turn and leave the way you came. Expecting a bullet to the back of your head that never comes. This isn't the last time you and El Sin Nombre meet. The next time it happens, one of you will die and it won't be you.

[hummingbee-lievable]

Song of the Day #24:

'Mile Magnificent' by Molly OfGeography (released 2019).

An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean

Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free

All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees

Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline

Track #4 on 'Myths'.

Fun fact: Molly refers to this song as 'The Song My Producer Said I Was Not Allowed To Name “CHICAGO IS BETTER THAN NEW YORK”'.* Honestly, her descriptions for so of the songs on this album are hilarious:

'1) The Song That Made My Producer Go, “Wait, What Was That Bit About Worms?”

2) The Song My Producer Said I Had To Append A Parenthetical To So That People Would Be Able To Find It Because The Lyrics Never Mention The Title Once But I Was Raised On Fanfiction So Joke’s On You, Pal! I Love A Long Title With A Parenthetical In It!!!

3) The Song That Is Sad'

Pretty dang accurate, honestly. Also, I think she has a Tumblr!!! *Gasp.* What if I...tag her???

@ofgeography Hiiii and thank you, your music is amazing.

I did it bees and knees (yes, this is my hip modern way of including every kind of person, fight me or provide more hilarious options; I'm content with either option).

I have had a fun time perusing this flavourful dose of humanity's wild website and I think my fun fact today should be her story where she becomes a donut god:

You're welcome, singular entity that reads this blog (that entity being my sister and/or the rogue bots, doesn't matter, we're all friends here).

Personal blurb: Alright, full disclosure time: I discovered this artist because of the 'Good Omens' fandom. Someone said we were missing out on feelings and shared this song, and when I tell you I felt those feelings, I certainly don't mean that I danced to this on repeat for several months (and her 'Hanahaki (Bloom)'), often at 3 in the morning in the bathroom. Of course not.

Pro tip: dancing with your toothbrush in your mouth is a choking hazard, but in the spirit of Alanis Morissette, I recommend doing it anyway:

One of my favourite books in the world is 'The Overstory' by Richard Powers. In it, one of the themes that arises often is the concept of pyrophitic serotinous plants (it's okay, I won't remember it either). They are plants that need fire to open. (There are actually different types of pyrophitic plants, from passive to fire-activated but I probably shouldn't start talking about that because you'll need to pull out the duct tape.)

(Technically, 'serotinous' plants are a category in which plants release seeds over a longer period of time, and it doesn't matter how they are released, but the seeds that open by fire fit into this category.) The eucalyptus tree, the lodgehole pine, and other trees encase their seeds in resin that can only be melted by fire (thereby releasing the seeds).

The thing that I love about this concept is this: we need to burn to grow. I recently read this book called 'Life in Oil' about the Cofàn tribe in Ecuador who were drastically impacted by oil companies. And the thing was: Yes. They were impacted horribly (physically, psychologically, environmentally, the works). They also survived. They figured out, through tumult and trial and falling apart, how to keep going.

This song screams to me of that same instinct. I mean, look at us. This is what we do, isn't it? We fight, we fall, we continue. We're just like every other aspect of nature in that we are born, and in our fight to continue, we impact everything around us. We're just a part of the cycle and eventually we will decay back to where we belong and serve as soil for our children. And all we'll be? A story. And after a while, not even that. Just a whisper of what was.

In a way? I find that freeing. We might as well live the life we want to live; how little it will matter. (This isn't absolution, please don't go murdering people.) I just mean that I don't have to put so much weight into every little thing. Not everything has to be joyful or depressing (and if we really think about it, everything is always a balance of both). It can just be what it is.

We are as we are. And we don't have to love ourselves for it, but we don't have to hate ourselves either.

I love the lyrics to this song. For a long time, I misheard 'We're animals of love/ the city never makes us beg' as 'the city never makes us pay' and I don't know why? But I kind of like that image.

We are animals of love. And that's okay.

We are the cogs in a continuous cycle and we always will be.

I think often of this monologue (content warning for the video, it's gory, but you don't need to watch it, you can just listen) from 'Midnight Mass' so often, in regards to this:

We just are. Everything just is.