#begging burros

[rabbitcruiser]

World Donkey Day 

Visit a petting zoo, or simply do some research into the underappreciated, stalwart, useful and intelligent beasts of burden known as donkeys.

World Donkey Day is a show of respect for one of the most enduring and respectable animals in the Equidae family. Throughout history, it has served throughout the world as both a mount and a beast of burden in some of the most challenging terrains and forbidding climates, and has done so with pride and endurance. It’s unsurprising that these beasts’ success is due in part to their stubborn nature, and World Donkey Day honors them for this along with their other, perhaps more laudable, traits.

History of World Donkey Day

Two subspecies of the donkey, the Somalian and the Nubian, were bred together to produce what we think of as the modern Donkey. Available evidence points to the Donkey having been working alongside humanity since 4000 BCE, most likely in Nubia, as a more versatile and resilient pack animal than the ox they were presently using. Since then they have been bred and transplanted all over the world as cultures moved, and the world expanded, and can now be found just about everywhere.

They’re also the progenitors of the sterile mule, a cross-breeding of horse and donkey that results in a breed with the strengths of both. Sadly mules are almost entirely sterile, and the exceptions so rare that no breeding stock of pure mules has ever been able to be achieved, in part due to there having yet to be recorded a case of a breedable mule stallion. Strangely, there have been cases where female mules have birthed what are, for all appearances, pure horses when bred with a horse.

Without the help of donkeys, it is hard to imagine that the modern world could ever have come into existence. These hardy pack animals provided civilization with the motive energy needed to generate wealth, well before the advent of steam power or electricity. For that reason, many people consider donkeys just as fundamental to our society as writing, pottery, and metallurgy.

World Donkey Day is all about celebrating their stoic spirit and individual charm. These creatures aren’t afraid of a hard day’s work. In fact, they more or less invented the concept. Donkeys pull carts, operate mills, and carry cargo for miles and miles, well after other species would have given up. For that reason, they have a special place in our hearts. They’re willing to put in the effort (for no pay) all to serve us – their grateful human masters.

World Donkey Day is the brainchild of Raziq Ark, a scientist whose interests primarily concern desert animals. Around ten years ago, he noticed that nobody was celebrating the humble donkey for its efforts in helping people all over the world improve their quality of life. In recognition of all this hard work, he set up a Facebook group, chronicling the trials and tribulations of the species all over the world. Eventually, the idea to set up a World Donkey Day emerged in 2018, and we’ve been celebrating it ever since.

The concept drew widespread attention in the media. The Daily Express, for instance, ran an article covering ten facts that people don’t know about donkeys. Did you know that a female donkey is called a Jenny? Ark also has thousands of followers on his Facebook page, all showing their support for this amazing creature.

Donkeys have played an essential part in human history. Ark says that they are a “precious genetic resource and a great gift of nature.” You can’t get higher praise than that!

How to celebrate World Donkey Day

The best way to celebrate World Donkey Day, depending on where you are, is merely to research these incredible beasts and the role they had to play in the world. If you’re somewhere you can take a Donkey Ride tour like the Grand Canyon or tours of certain abandoned mines then that’s an even better way to become acquainted with these adorable long-eared equines. World Donkey Day reminds us that we owe a large part of our success on this planet to these fellow travelers on the starship Earth.

There are plenty of other ways that you can show your support to donkeys all over the world and improve their wellbeing. Many of them are in constant pain and need attention fast. Often their owners are too poor to pay for a veterinarian, so it falls to the rest of us to take up the slack. Donating to a donkey charity, therefore, is a great way to show your support for these fabulous creatures directly. Currently, there are a handful of nonprofits working hard all over the world to deliver medical attention to neglected and abused animals. These charities use donated money to provide much-needed treatment to donkeys in their hour of need.

Donkey abandonment is another major issue. Many owners will dump their donkeys at the side of the road if they can no longer afford to take care of them. The animal must then scavenge for food to survive. Giving to a donkey charity, therefore, can provide these victims with shelter where they can live in safety and peace.

Donkeys are beautiful, but neglected creatures. World Donkey Day is a chance for everyone who cares about these animals to highlight their plight and do something practical about it. Are you in?

Source

[kalscattergood]

If you ever find yourself in Custer, South Dakota, I encourage you to go to the Begging Burro and order the steak tacos from Fred Armisen-- I mean Manuel. Manuel was awesome and I promised him I'd come back during next year's Sturgis rally.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Rest for the Wicked | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nightmares, angstangstangst, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT (MDNI 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6038

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Dean shot up in bed beside you, startling you awake as well. His breathing was shallow and quick, and you sat up to comfort him. 

“Babe, what happened?” you asked, putting your hand on his back. 

He shook his head, still breathing with difficulty. “Uh, nothing,” Dean replied. “Go back to sleep.”

You rested your head against his bare shoulder and kissed it. “Hellhounds again?” you asked quietly. 

Dean’s lack of response let you know you were right. 

You sighed. “Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

He shook his head. 

“I’ll stay up with you,” you told him. 

“(Y/N)—”

“This isn’t up for debate,” you cut him off. You leaned back on the bed and opened your arms to him. Dean hesitated at first, but he eventually relaxed into you. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed the top of his head. Dean wrapped his arms around your stomach and laid his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you asked. 

“Hm,” you hummed. 

Dean looked up at you with a small smirk pulling at his lips. He leaned up over you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. 

You rolled over on top of him, and he happily allowed you to grind over the top of him while you kissed down his neck. You ran your nails over his abs and up over his chest as he kneaded your ass in his large hands. He made quick work of pushing your underwear aside to be able to slide himself into you. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked. 

You nodded, kissing him fiercely. 

“Sweetheart—” he growled between kisses, “words—” “Yes, please,” you begged. 

Making sure you were ready by running his fingers over your folds, Dean slipped his impressive length into you in one quick push. You rolled your hips over his, and he swallowed your moans with his kiss while kneading your breasts and tweaking your nipples. Soon enough, the two of you reached your highs, and he stayed comfortably seated inside you. Dean pulled you down to lay on his chest, and you sighed in content as he wrapped his arms around you. 

These nightmares had been growing more persistent as Dean’s death date got closer. He had yet another one while you were in the midst of researching, and he’d fallen asleep on his book. 

You looked at him sadly, and Sam walked into the motel room. Dean shot up and pretended he hadn’t just woken up from a nightmare.

“Dig up anything good?” Sam asked the two of you.

You took the opportunity to cover for Dean. “Nah, nothing good.”

“Well, Bobby has,” Sam replied. “Finally.”

Dean looked up. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” Sam nodded, “a way to find Lilith.”

“Oh. With just uh—” Dean looked down at his watch, “thirty hours to go.” Dean smiled halfheartedly. “Hey, why don't we just make a TJ-run, yeah? Y’know, some senoritas, cervezas, uh, we could... What's Spanish for "donkey show"?”

“Espectáculo de burro,” you replied quietly. 

Sam snickered. “So, if we do save you, let’s never do that.”

“Acordada,” you said. 

“Gesundheit,” Dean snarked. 

You gave a short laugh and looked back down at the book on Hellhounds in front of you. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam sighed. “Look, we're cutting it close, I know, but we're gonna get this done. I don't care what it takes, Dean. You're not gonna go to hell. I'm not gonna let you.”

Dean looked up.

“I swear. Everything's gonna be okay,” Sam promised. 

Dean looked slightly sad before looking completely panicked. You recalled that just hours before the person is dragged away by the Hellhounds, they begin to hallucinate. It broke your heart to know that was what Dean was going through. 

***

The next day, you, Dean, Sam, and Bobby were setting up a ritual to find where Lilith was hiding. You couldn’t even make out what the scene before you was, but you simply did as Bobby told you to do. 

“So you need a name, that's the whole kit and caboodle,” Bobby said, referring to the mess of pendulums and maps in front of him. “With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothing you can't suss out.”

“Like the town Lilith's in?” Sam asked. 

“Kid, when I get done, we'll know the street.” You smiled briefly and shot a look to Dean. 

With some chanting in Latin, the pendulum stopped over the top of New Harmony, Indiana, which Bobby announced to the room. 

“And we have a winner,” Bobby continued. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Sam asserted, starting for the door. 

Dean stopped his brother. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Let's all shut up there, Tex.”

“What?” you asked. “What’s the deal?”

“Whaddaya mean, ‘what’?” he replied. “Come on, where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of Bela's intel? Now, when that bitch breathes, the air comes out crooked, okay. Second, even if we could get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her. And third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike?” He gestured to Sam. “Should I continue?”

“Listen, Dee, it’s worth a shot,” you returned. “What else are we supposed to do?”

“Just 'cause I gotta die doesn't mean you guys have to, okay? Either we go in smart, or we don't go in at all,” he said firmly. 

“Okay, fine. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have a suggestion,” you said.

“Where are you going with this,” Dean warned, his tone letting you know he knew where this conversation was leading. 

“We’re so past arguing. We gotta summon Ruby,” you stated. 

Dean’s shoulders tensed. “The hell we are! We have enough problems as it is.”

“Listen! I trust the bitch about as far as I can throw her. But right now, she’s all we got,” you argued.

Dean sighed. “C’mon, sweetheart, she is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, okay. She told you that she could save me—” he gestured to his brother, “lie. She seems to know everything about Lilith but forgot to mention— oh, right! Lilith owns my soul!”

“Dean—” Bobby groaned. 

“For all we know, she works for Lilith!” the older brother finished. 

“Look, I agree with you!” you told him. “So give me another option.”

“Dean, (Y/N)’s right—”

Dean cut Sam off with a growled shout. “No! Dammit!”

You had never been scared of Dean before, but his exclamation genuinely startled you. When he realized what he’d done, he immediately softened. “Just… no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys wanna save me, find something else.”

Bobby sighed and grabbed his jacket to head to the door. 

“Where are you going, Bobby?” Sam asked quietly. 

“I guess to…” he trailed off and threw out his arms, “find something else.”

You shared a long look with Sam that told you you would be defying Dean. 

***

“Y’know, phones work too,” Ruby smirked, leaning against the doorway after you and Sam summoned her in the basement of the cabin you were squatting in. “Hey, Sam. How’s tricks?” she asked, arms folded. Then, she seemed to notice you were in the room as well. “(Y/N)! What a surprise—”

“How do you get around so fast?” Sam cut her off.

“I got the Super Bowl jetpack,” she shrugged. “So, you called?” The demon began to stalk toward you. 

“Did you know?” you demanded. 

“Um, gonna need a tiny bit more.”

“About Dean’s deal. That Lilith holds the contract,” Sam clarified.

She sighed. “Yes, I did.”

“Don’t you think you should’ve mentioned that to us?!” you snapped. 

“Temper, temper,” Ruby taunted. “You weren’t ready.”

Sam scoffed. “For what?”

“If I told you, you three yahoos would have just charged after her half-cocked, and Lilith would have peeled the meat from your pretty, pretty faces,” she explained dryly. 

“Well, we’re ready now,” Sam stated. “I want your knife.” Ruby began to circle you, her expression completely flat and still somehow mischievous. “You're right about one thing. You are ready. And now's the time, too. Lilith's guard's down.”

“How’s that?” you questioned.

Ruby explained, “She's on shore-leave. A little R&R.”

“The hell’s that mean?” Sam questioned.

“Trust me, you don't wanna know. You didn't lose those hex bags I gave you?”

“We’ve got ‘em.”

“Good. Then she won't sense that you're coming.”

Ruby was directly in front of you now. “Give us the knife.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” you asserted.

“You wanna charge in with one little pigsticker?” she snickered mockingly. “It's a waste of a true-blue window. Like getting Hitler with that exploding briefcase. Forget it.”

“Okay, then how?” Sam asked, getting very angry.

“I know how to save your brother, Sam,” Ruby cooed. 

“No, you don’t! You told us you couldn’t! Give us the fucking knife, alright!” you shouted, getting in her face. 

“Did you ever consider that I lied, babe?” she snarked. 

“Oh, so you can save him?” Sam scoffed dryly. 

“No, but you can.”

“What?” you and Sam exclaimed simultaneously.

“Sam, you've got some god-given talent. Well, not ‘god’-given, but you get the gist,” she explained.

“All that psychic crap? That's gone ever since Yellow-Eyes died,” Sam responded. 

“Not gone; dormant,” Ruby said. “And not just visions either. Why do you think Lilith is so scared of you?”

“Why the fuck would she be scared of Sam?” you asked. 

“If you wanted, you could wipe her off the map without moving a muscle,” Ruby responded. 

“I don’t believe you,” Sam stated. 

“It’s the truth.”

“And you decided to tell me this just now?”

“Um... demon. Manipulative's kinda in the job description,” she sing-songed. “Fact is— is that you would have never considered it. Not until you were –”

“Desperate enough?” Sam cut her off.

Ruby shrugged. “You don't like being different. You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes. Like you're some kind of sideshow freak. But suck it up because we've got a lot of ground to cover, and we've gotta do it fast. But we can do it.”

Sam clenched his jaw and glanced down at the floor. 

“Look. Call me a bitch, hate me all you want, but I have never lied to you, Sam. Not ever. And I'm telling you. You can save your brother, and I can show you how,” she urged. 

“So that’s you, huh?” an all too familiar voice growled from behind you. 

‘Uh-oh,’ you thought, stomach dropping and eyes widening. 

“Our slutty little Yoda,” Dean finished his insult, walking into the room. 

“Dean.” She turned to him, all the softness she’d been using with Sam gone. “Charming as ever.”

Dean stalked toward the three of you. “Aw, I knew you’d show up. ‘Cause I knew Sammy here and my girlfriend wouldn’t listen.” He cut his eyes at you, and you looked at the floor in shame. 

“But you're not gonna teach him anything, you understand me? Over my dead body,” Dean grunted. 

“Oh, well, you’re right about that,” Ruby snickered. 

“What you are gonna do is give me that knife. And then you can just go crawl back into whatever slop you came from and never bother me or my brother or my girl again. Are we clear?” he stated fiercely. 

“Your brother is carrying a bomb inside of him, and we'd be stupid not to use it,” Ruby shot back. 

You sighed, knowing you were in deep shit. “Dean, just hold on, okay—”

“(Y/N)!” Dean snapped. “Don’t.” He addressed Sam next. “C’mon man, what, are you blind? Can't you see that this is a trick?”

“That’s not true,” Ruby protested. 

“She wants you to give into this whole demonic psychic whatever, okay. I mean hell, she probably wants you to become her little Anti-Christ SuperStar.”

“I want Lilith dead. That’s all,” Ruby snarled. 

“Why?”

“I’ve told you why!”

Dean laughed mockingly. “Oh, right, yeah. Because you were human once and you liked kittens and long walks on the beach.”

Ruby shook her head. “Y’know, I am so sick of proving myself to you. You wanna save yourself, this is how, you dumb, spineless dick.” Dean looked at her, then turned around as if he was going to leave. Suddenly, he spun back and nailed her with a mean right hook. 

“Dean!” you shouted, knowing he was in a world of trouble. 

Ruby recovered quickly and delivered blow after blow; a knee to the face, then a hit to the back, then to his stomach. 

You rushed her, shoving her to the floor. Ruby dragged you down with her and rolled on top of you to hit you across the right side of your jaw, then your left, then your right again. 

Ruby, hey!” Sam shouted, but you could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. 

Suddenly, the repetitive hits were gone. Dean was back to hitting her, or, rather, getting one hit in before being sent to the ground by Ruby. 

The fight progressed into the other room, and Dean stumbled back into the room moments later because of a hit delivered by Ruby. 

“The hell are you grinning at?” 

Apparently, Dean was wearing one of his shit-eating grins. “Missing something?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice from your position on the ground. 

Sam came over to check on you, and you could see Dean holding Ruby’s knife proudly. 

“I'll kill you, you son of a bitch.”

Your eyes widened as Ruby tried to rush him, but she was stopped by an invisible force. You breathed out in relief knowing Dean had set up a Devil’s trap. “Like I said, I knew you'd come.”

He walked away from her toward the staircase back up to the cabin. 

“Wait! You're just gonna leave me here?”

Dean ignored the demon. “Let’s go,” he ordered you and Sam. 

Sam helped you up from the floor and adjusted his jaw painfully. 

“Oh, oh, you— so you're just too stupid to live, is that it?” Ruby laughed in a panic. “Then, fine! You deserve hell! I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones! I wish I could be there to hear you scream!” Her voice followed you up the stairs into the living room of the cabin.

“And I wish you'd shut your pie hole, but we don't always get what we want,” Dean called back.

Your heart was in your throat as you followed Dean up the stairs. He was undoubtedly going to chew both you and Sam out for what you’d done. 

In silence, you began to load your weapons. You briefly smiled fondly at Dean’s Taurus as he cleaned it. Dean apparently caught you looking at him, his face set in hard lines. You could practically feel the blood flush from your face. 

“I figured Sam would do it, but you?” he asked evenly, tone on-guard. 

“Dean—”

“No, (Y/N). I told you I didn’t want you to do that,” Dean replied. 

You slammed your gun down on the table. “And what about what I want? I have less than twenty-four hours with you, and I’m trying to change that. Do you not want that? Do you want to go to Hell?!”

He sighed, and you noticed Sam had taken a step back from the weapons table to let you and Dean fight it out. 

“No, but dammit, I’m not letting you make the same mistake I did!” he shouted.

“You keep saying that, but what do you mean?!”

“First my dad, then me, and what? Now you? Now Sam? Every time someone’s ass is on the line, one of us just gives it up instead. This has to stop,” Dean explained. 

“So, what? We’re just gonna let Ruby rot down there, and you’re just gonna wait ass up for Lilith to come collect your soul?” you argued.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam began softly, “what if Ruby’s right? What if I can take out Lilith?”

Dean slammed his hands on the table and gave his brother an angry, hard glare. 

“Quit looking at me like that,” Sam stated. 

Dean scoffed. “What, are you gonna give her the Carrie-stare and Lilith goes ‘poof’?”

“I don't know what Ruby meant,” Sam replied, throwing his hands up and shaking his head. “Y’know, maybe we should just go ask her.”

“Guys, you wanted the knife. I got you the knife.” Dean walked over to another table with knives splayed across it. 

“Dean, just listen to me for a second. Last time Lilith snapped her fingers and put thirty demons on our ass, and all we got's one little knife?” Sam challenged. “I mean, like you said, we go in smart, or we don't go in at all.”

“Well, this ain't smart.”

“We got one shot at this, Dean. Just one. So if there's a sure-fire way then maybe we should just talk about it.”

Dean approached Sam and got in his face a bit. “Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it's paved with and you know where it's going.” He then turned around, sat back down at the table, and picked up a knife. 

Sam apparently wasn’t done. “Dean.” He sat down next to his brother as Dean continued to sharpen his knife. “What do you think is gonna happen? This is me, I can handle it. And if it'll save you—”

Dean cut off his brother. “Why even risk it?”

“Because you're my brother. Because you did the same thing for me,” Sam replied simply. 

The older brother scoffed. “I know. And look how that turned out.” He sighed and got a little choked up. “Guys, all I’m sayin’ is… sweetheart, you’re my weak spot.”

You looked up at Dean, and he was staring at you with tears swimming in his eyes. 

He smiled quickly. “You are. And I’m yours.” Dean looked over to his brother while you bit your lip and closed your eyes to try and keep from crying. 

“And Sam, we— we’re family,” Dean chuckled through his tears, “I mean, what we'll do for each other, y’know, how far we'll go? Those evil sons of bitches know it. They're using it against us.”

“So what? We just stop looking out for each other?” Sam argued through his own tears.

“No, we stop being martyrs, man. We… We stop spreading it for these demons,” he joked. Dean picked up Ruby's knife. “We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way. The way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, then, uh, then, we go down swinging.”

You wrapped your arm around yourself trying to self-soothe as you would have to do from here on out very soon. 

“Whaddya think?” Dean asked you and Sam.

A smirk grew across Sam’s face. “I think you totally should have been jamming ‘Eye of the Tiger’ right there.”

Dean stood and grumbled, “Oh, bite me. I totally rehearsed that speech, too.”

Sam smiled. “So, Indiana, huh?”

“Yeah, where Lilith's on shore-leave,” Dean recalled Ruby’s earlier words. “Tell me something. The hell's a demon do for fun?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Despite the lighthearted joking, your heart was breaking in two. No amount of loss you’d experienced before was quite as devastating as this was for you. 

As you made it into the bedroom you’d been sharing with Dean, you heard Dean’s heavy footsteps following you. 

“Sweetheart—”

You cut him off. “Don’t. Please.” 

Dean wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed the top of your head. You turned around to bury your face in his chest and inhale the leather jacket that smelled of his cologne and gunpowder. Oh, how you were going to miss that smell. 

***

You knew continuing to be sad wasn’t an option in this scenario. You had to pull it together for Dean’s sake, if not yours. Just as you were about to leave for Indiana well aware of the time constraint you were under, Bobby appeared at the door of the Impala.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bobby drawled. 

“We got the knife,” Dean replied through the window of the car. 

You got out to greet Bobby with a tight hug.

“And you intend to use it without me?” Bobby scoffed. “Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?”

“No, Bobby, of course not,” Sam replied. 

“This is about me, (Y/N), and Sam, okay? This isn't your fight,” Dean said.

Those words made Bobby rightfully furious. “The hell it isn’t! Family don’t end with blood, boy. Besides, you need me.”

“Bobby—”

The older man cut Dean off. “You're playing wounded. Tell me, how many hallucinations have you had so far?” Sam seem surprised, but you looked at your feet sheepishly. 

“How’d you know?” Dean asked. 

“Because that's what happens when you've got hellhounds on your butt. And because (Y/N) called me,” Bobby replied. 

Dean looked at you with a mockingly sarcastic stare. You just shrugged. 

***

Bobby followed behind you in his car. Sam was going to let you sit in his usual spot, but you preferred to keep things as they were; for at least a semblance of normalcy. 

Sam broke the silence in the car. “Hey, Dean? You know if this doesn't uh... this doesn't go the way we want, I want you to know—” Dean cut him off. “No, no, no, no.”

“ ‘No’ what?” Sam asked. 

Dean shot a brief look over to Sam. “No, you're not gonna bust out the misty good-bye speech, okay? And if this is my last day on earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward.” Dean paused for a moment, a smirk growing across his face. “Y’know what I do want?” He fiddled with the radio for a minute, and Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” began to play through the speakers. 

“Bon Jovi?” the brunet scoffed. 

Dean began to sing along with Bon Jovi. “And I walk these streets! A loaded six-string on my back / I play for keeps / ‘Cause I might not make it back.” He turned to his brother. “C’mon! I’ve been everywhere.”

“Oh, yeah!” you and Sam sang. 

“And I'm standing tall / I've seen a million faces ‘And I rocked 'em all.” Dean shot a wink at you in the rearview mirror on that line, and you squeezed his shoulder. Dean grabbed your hand with his opposite one and continued to steer with the other. He played with your fingers while his brother got more and more into singing. You and Dean, however, were beginning to realize how well the song fit your current situation. 

Dean’s smile that you’d fallen in love with was completely gone while Sam continued to sing. 

***

After getting pulled over because of the Impala’s busted taillight, Dean revealed to you he’d been able to tell the officer who’d stopped you was possessed. In fact, it was because he could see the ugly face of the creature beneath. 

You had driven the police car into the woods and covered it in branches to hide it along with the body.

“So, what, now you’re seeing demons?” Sam scoffed. 

“I've seen all kinds of things lately but... nothing like this,” Dean replied, looking startled. 

“Actually, it's not all that crazy,” Bobby jumped in. “You've got just over five hours to go. You're piercing the veil, Dean. You're glimpsing the B-side.”

“A little less new age-y, please,” Dean snarked. 

“You're almost Hell's bitch. So, you can see Hell's other bitches,” Bobby put it plainly. 

Dean seemed taken aback, but then, turned his charm back on. “Thank you.”

“Well, it actually could come in pretty handy,” Sam suggested. 

“Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul is good for something,” Dean scoffed. 

Bobby nodded. “Damn right it is. Lilith's probably got demons stashed all over town. We can't let them sound the alarm. She knows we're here, we're dead before we're started.”

Dean chuckled mockingly. “Well, this is a terrific plan. I'm excited to be a part of it. Can we go, please?”

***

Somehow, you’d managed to sneak into the house for sale across the street from the house Lilith was “vacationing” in. Dean looked through the closed blinds with binoculars to search for the demon. “It's the little girl. Her face is awful,” Dean grimaced. 

After much bickering over which method was best to break into the house, you waited for Dean to run behind the house with the demon hot on his heels. When it happened, you plunged the knife into the possessed mailman’s stomach. Sam came up behind him to clasp a hand over his mouth to ensure he couldn’t alert any other demons. You passed the knife off to him with an encouraging nod to send him on his way to kill the neighbor. You dragged the mailman’s body behind a bush. 

Suddenly, you were shoved into a bush. “I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken bone.”

Sam came up behind her and held it to her throat. “She doesn’t have it. Take it easy.”

Ruby let you go, and you scrambled to your feet. 

“How the hell did you get out?” Dean asked, standing beside you. 

“What you don't know about me could fill a book,” she scoffed. 

Dean stumbled backward suddenly. “Whoa,” he breathed out. 

“What?” she asked angrily. 

Dean turned his head away not wanting to look at her anymore. “Nothing. I just— I couldn't see you before, but you're one ugly broad.”

“Sam, give me the knife before you hurt yourself,” Ruby demanded. 

“You’ll get it when this is over,” you replied. 

“It's already over. I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now, it's too late. He's dead. And I'm not gonna let you die, too,” Ruby told Sam. 

“Try and stop me, and I'll kill you, bitch,” Sam snarled. 

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Hit me with your best shot, baby.”

Dean turned back to you. “Guys,” he whispered. “Hey. Have your little catfight later.”

You could see other black-eyed demons stalking toward you. “So much for the element of surprise.” 

“Run, run!” you whispered harshly. You broke off and headed straight to the house Lilith was in, and you could hear dozens of demons following you. 

You slid across the porch on your knees to pick the lock on the door. 

“What the hell is taking Bobby?” Dean shouted. 

Suddenly, the sprinklers turned on to shoot holy water at the demons, which had been Bobby’s task. 

Just as you finished picking the lock, you turned to see Dean smirking and laughing at the demons who’d been kept away from the house by the sprinklers. 

You closed the door behind Ruby and turned around to see an older gentleman dead on the kitchen table. “Holy shit,” you whispered. His head had been turned around completely.

Dean turned to see what you were looking at, and his face hardened. “You think Lilith knows we're here?” he asked quietly. 

“Probably,” Ruby answered. 

Sam walked into the surrounding rooms first, holding his knife out. Suddenly, Dean’s head whipped to a closed cabinet behind you where he discovered a man hiding. He put his hand over the man’s mouth to keep him from making any noise while you shushed him. 

“We're here to help, okay?” Dean whispered. “I'm gonna move my hand, and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, okay?”

The man nodded his head “yes,” and Dean slowly removed his hand. 

“Where’s your kid?” you asked. 

“It’s not—” he swallowed harshly, “It’s not her anymore.”

“Where is she?” Sam urged. 

“Upstairs. In her bedroom,” the man answered. 

“Okay, okay, okay. Listen to me. I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?” Dean stated. 

“Not without my wife,” the man responded. 

“Yes, without your wife.”

“No.”

Dean knew you had no time for this and knocked him out. He shot you a look, you smiled, and Dean hauled the man up over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. 

You followed Dean down to the basement and quietly shut the door behind him while Ruby and Sam went up to the girl’s bedroom. 

Dean unceremoniously dropped the man to the floor while you surrounded the door with salt. Just as you were turning to leave, Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, kissing you with a passion you’d never felt from him before. He desperately pulled at you trying to get you as close as possible, and you pulled on his hair like you knew he loved. When you pulled away, you were seeing stars. “What was that for?” you asked quietly. 

“Just ‘cause,” he told you. “I love you.”

Your eyes pooled with tears, but you managed to keep them at bay. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Dean’s eyes searched your face with one of those heavily emotional and yet unreadable expressions you’d become accustomed to. “Let’s go,” he told you, grabbing your hand and carefully stepping over the salt to get out of the basement. 

He pulled you upstairs into the little girl’s room but suddenly panicked when he saw Sam about to stab the child. Dean grabbed his brother’s arm, saying, “It's not her!”

The little girl was breathing heavily from the realization of what was about to happen to her.

“It's not in the girl anymore,” Dean continued.

The child collapsed into her mother’s chest, crying, “Mommy!”

The mother shushed her child and held her tightly, clearly relieved her daughter was okay.

***

When you’d gotten the two remaining family members into the basement, Ruby spoke up. “Well, I hate to be a ‘told you so’.”

“Okay, then, where is she?” you asked. 

“I don't know,” she replied. 

“Could she get past the sprinklers?” Sam questioned, looking out of the window at the demons still trapped on the lawn. 

“Her pay grade, she ain't sweating the holy water,” Ruby replied. 

Sam huffed. “Okay, you win. What do I have to do?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, giving him a questioning look. 

“To save Dean,” Sam replied. “What do you need me to do?”

Dean tried to turn him around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Sam shrugged him off. “Just shut up for a second. Ruby!”

“You had your chance,” she replied. “You can’t just flip a switch. We needed time.”

“And the twelve hours warning you gave us would’ve been enough?’ you scoffed. “C’mon, lady, give us something. Anything!”

Dean grabbed Sam again. 

“Don’t, Dean! I’m not gonna let you go to Hell!” Sam told his brother. 

“Yes, you are!” Dean roared. He looked to you for a moment before looking down at the floor, seeming unable to hold your gaze. “You both are.” He took a deep breath and looked up at his little brother. “I'm sorry. I mean, this is all my fault, I know that. But what you're doing; it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked quietly, tears slipping down his cheeks. 

Your eyes began to well, too. 

“Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Don’t let (Y/N) drive,” Dean smirked at you. “Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you.”

Dean looked over to you. “And take care of my brother. Take care of you.” He tilted his head back, seeming unsure of what his next words would be. “God, I just… there’s too many things I could say to you, sweetheart. But I just need you to know that I’ve always got your six. Even when I’m gone.” Dean stepped closer to you, and you could barely stand to look at him as tears poured down your face. 

Just then, the clock struck midnight. Dean looked over to it, then looked back at you, and he tried to offer a sad smile when he did. 

“I'm sorry, Dean. I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy,” Ruby said through the deafening silence.

Suddenly, Dean’s face fell. “Hellhound.”

“Where?” you and Sam asked in unison. 

Dean nodded to a corner of the room. “There.”

You looked in the direction Dean nodded to, but obviously, you saw nothing. Dean grabbed your hand and brought you into another room, you and the Winchesters slamming the doors behind yourselves.

You took out a bag of goofer dust and quickly shook it out in a line in front of the doors to keep the Hellhounds at bay. 

“Give me the knife,” you heard Ruby tell Sam, “maybe I can fight it off.”

You turned around to see Sam’s confused expression. “What?”

Dean suddenly called out, “Wait!”

Ruby scoffed. “You wanna die?”

“Sam, that’s not Ruby,” Dean realized. “It’s not Ruby!”

Suddenly, you were thrown back against the wall next to Sam, and Dean was thrown on top of a table, pinning him. 

“How long you been in her?” Dean asked, grunting uncomfortably.

“Not long,” Lilith cooed. “But I like it. It's all grown up and pretty.” 

“And where's Ruby?” Sam asked. 

Lilith’s head snapped toward the two of you. “She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, far away.” Her neck crunched with each tilting motion of her head. 

“Y’know, I should have seen it before, but you all look alike to me,” Dean remarked. 

Your heart pounded as Lilith walked toward Sam. “Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time.” She grabbed hold of his chin, forcing him to kiss her, and you turned your head away uncomfortably. “Your lips are soft.”

“Right, so you have me. Let my brother go,” Sam tried. 

Lilith smirked. “Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't.” Her voice was sugary sweet.

“So, is this your big plan, huh? Drag me to hell. Kill Sam. And then what? Become queen bitch?” Dean growled. 

“I don’t have to answer to puppy chow,” Lilith smiled. 

Dean was clearly in pain trying to hold himself up on the table, and you wanted nothing more than to run to him. 

Lilith grabbed ahold of the door handle, smiling sickly at Dean. “Sic ‘em, boy.”

Your eyes widened, heart dropping as Dean was thrown off the table and to the ground by the invisible Hellhound. 

“No!” you screamed. “Stop it, you fucking bitch!”

“Dean!” Sam shouted, tears choking his screams. 

Dean struggled on the floor as his chest was tattered by the vicious creature’s claws. 

“Stop it, please! Dean!” you cried, struggling as hard as you could against Lilith’s power nailing you to the wall. 

Next, the hound got your partner’s back and shoulder, and Dean writhed around on the floor in pain, screaming. Blood gushed from his chest, and your heart broke to pieces. 

“Dean!” Your scream was blood curdling as Sam cried beside you. 

The hound stopped attacking, and you could see Dean was taking his shallow, final breaths. His screaming had stopped, but blood still poured from every deep gash. 

Lilith held her hand out toward you and Sam, and a bright, white light erupted from it. Sam turned over into you, shielding you with his body. You closed your eyes, curling into a ball on the floor beneath him. 

When you felt the light was gone, Sam got up and turned to Lilith, who looked genuinely afraid of him. 

“Back,” she begged, breathing shallowly. “I said, back!”

Sam picked up Ruby’s knife. “I don’t think so.” He moved to stab her, but Lilith decided to pour out of Ruby’s body in a cloud of smoke through an air vent. 

As soon as Lilith was gone, you rushed to Dean’s side. You pulled his head into your lap as you’d done many times before and stroked his hair with your hand. “Dee— oh, my god,” you cried. 

Sam bent down next to you, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

You sobbed and held Dean’s head against yours, murmuring, “Come back to me,” over and over again. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[jokingmisfit]

A Donatello Who... (NSFW)

A Donatello who fucks you reverse cowgirl style while he works.

Who loves having you warm his cock while he works.

A Donatello who says nothing but hisses and growls.

Who burros his face into your chest when he starts getting overwhelmed with emotion during sex.

A Donatello who has such good self control he can fuck you over and over without cumming.

Who brags about how good he makes you feel.

A Donatello who will hold a conversation through the door on the phone while he fucks you.

Who when it's safe will push papers away and fuck you on his desk.

A Donatello who uses his inventions to fuck you on the side while he works/watches.

Who loves having our bury your head in his neck and feel you cry and pant on his skin.

A Donatello who sometimes is so overwhelmed after that he has to leave you alone in his bed to decompress.

Who other times can't let you go and gets aggressive when someone tries to take you away because they don't need you like he does right now.

A Donnie who fucks you in several positions in front of a camera so he can record your reactions.

Who "researches" your body and takes notes on your reactions.

A Donnie who has to touch you all over.

Whose hands move all over you, but loves to squeeze your chest and ass.

A Donnie who leaves so many marks on your body from his rough grabbing.

Who leaves hickeys on every inch of you and gets upset if you cover them.

A Donnie who can't hold any of his moans back as he fucks you.

Who sometimes holds a camera to your face or hole to "research" later.

Who barely closes his eyes so he can see everything.

A Donnie who has to make you cum again because he "missed" it the first time.

Who cums as much as you do but loves the over stimulation.

A Donnie who just has to hold you afterwards because he is so overwhelmed with love for you.

Who gives you snacks and cleans you with a warm washcloth.

A Donatello who fucks you with his tongue more than his cock.

Who holds you so flush against your face you fear he'll suffocate.

A Donatello who will only fuck you with his dick if you beg him repeatedly.

Who grabs at any belly or hair you have. (If you have them).

A Donnie whose fucking is so contrast from his personality you sometimes get whiplash from the attitude change,

Who sometimes lists scientific facts on why you react to certain stimuli.

A Donnie will fuck you with other objects including his bo-staff.

Who will blindfold you with his own mask.

A Donnie who can and will fuck you anywhere.

Who will laugh at how cute the faces you make are.

A Donnie that will bathe you after so you're not too sore.

Who will stay and read to you or work on a small machine.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Deep diving into Alejandro's ethnicity and family because the show is vague with how both are portrayed, and I'm pedantic:

Off the bat, we know that he was born in 🇪🇸 Spain. Or at least, that's what his wiki page says, so I'm sure it's mentioned in some kind of canon content (the show, the character interviews, the creators' stating it, ect). He often times speaks en español, either by replacing words and phrases in otherwise English sentences or cussing out his team in an entirely spanish confession. His name is also rooted in Spanish origin; 'Alejandro' is the Spanish equivalent of Alexander, and his surname 'Burromuerto' literally translates to "Dead Donkey", likely a combination of the idioms "beating a dead horse" and "no ver tres en un burro", translation: can't see three on a donkey; akin to 'blind as a bat'.

I could go on about the symbolism of his name(s) and how it relates to his performance on Total Drama, but that's not essential to the topic at hand so I'll go over it later.*

With this in mind, the show really wants us to believe that he's Spanish, or at the very least Hispanic.

In Chinese Fake-Out, we learn that he won a gold medal at the South American Skate Olympics, so he presumably lived somewhere in South America in his childhood. On the wiki, it claims that he moved to Latin America soon after he was born. His comment in the same episode about eating barbequed guinea pigs where he grew up had a lot of people deducing that he lived in 🇵🇪 Peru since guinea pig is famously a delicacy there. The question begs, why would Alejandro and the rest of the Burromuertos move to Peru from Spain?

We know that Alejandro's father is a diplomat, so uprooting the family to a new country could be related to his work, but I doubt a diplomat would settle down and start a family just to go through the hassle of moving them halfway across the world to a random country, regardless of his salary.

What other reason would anyone have for dragging their brood across the sea? To see their extended family.

Family is a big character motivation for Alejandro: he has a lot of pride in being a Burromuerto and often times complains about disappointing his family or being susceptible to José's teasing when his plans don't work out. Pride is a staple of the Burromuertos; they even have a family code they abide by. That kind of mindset is usually generational, implying that his parents place the same emphasis on the presentation and opinions of their family.

The most glaring example of this mindset is the hate fuelled rivalry between Alejandro and José, which was sparked by their desperate need to be the "better son". The main goal of the Burromuerto brothers is familial recognition. Understandable, when your parents are too successful to raise you themselves, any kid would be desperate for their attention. Since their competition was allowed to escalate to the point of mutual loathing, their parents probably encouraged their behaviour; when you value familial reputation over everything of course you want your children to continuously prove themselves. (Poor Al is just full of complex familial trauma, from his parents' neglect to his brothers' bullying to the incredible pressure he's put under to succeed. No wonder he's like that.)

After seeing how the brothers are willing to go to extremes for the sake of family, it's reasonable that parents sharing that mindset would move across an ocean just to see their relatives (and likely compete with them, after all even a younger Alejandro was showing up everyone in South America's skateboarding scene).

Suggesting that either one or both of his parents, or grandparents, are Latin American. For simplicities sake, we'll say that Alejandro's dad is Spanish (as he carries the surname), and his mother is Peruvian (since Peru is the assumed country they moved to).

That means that the brothers qualify as both Hispanic and Latino. Alejandro's latin blood really is canon, and the stereotypical 'Latin Lover' archetype he fills (alongside the "Archvillain" he's titled as) is all the more accurate. He's evidently very proud of both heritages.

To clarify, the Burromuertos moved to Peru when Alejandro was young to be with his Mother's side of the family.

If we want to really wade into the theoretical waters, I'd like to suggest that Alejandro's father left Spain because he disgraced himself/his family in some way, and that's why he's so insistent on his sons restoring the family pride and prestige.

So, I've established Alejandro's ethnicity and touched on the bare-bones basics of his home life. But what about his other brother, or his uncle? You know, the characters that were mentioned once and never expanded upon. Don't worry, I've got notes on them too.

Carlos: The eldest child and a professional soccer player. Alejandro doesn't mention anything about a rivalry with Carlos. Instead, he suggests the two share a healthier bond as Carlos taught him soccer skills. 'Carlos' the name is a Spanish variant of Charles, meaning "free man". Fitting, since it's widely assumed that Carlos escaped from the Burromuerto home's harmful environment at his first opportunity and 'freed himself' from their high expectations/standards, hence why he doesn't engage in the family-typical hypercompetitive bullying. A somewhat common fandom troupe I've seen is Carlos being disowned by the Burromuertos, and post-World Tour/All-Stars Alejandro reconnecting with him after he too is disowned.

Uncle Julio: The hypnotist. All we really know about Julio is his name and occupation, but it's enough to pin him down as Alejandro's maternal uncle. Alejandro states that he learned hypnosis from Julio in The EX-Files; as he grew up in Peru, the only family he reasonably could have interacted with outside of the nuclear unit would be his mother's relatives. His comment "manipulation runs in the family" is never ascribed to the Burromuertos by name, which adds to the implication that Julio isn't his father's brother, as any skill as useful as hypnosis would definitely be branded under his surname otherwise. Additionally, 'Julio' as a name is derivative of the Latin Julius or Julianus (meaning "Devoted to Jove/Jupiter", the Roman incarnation of Zeus, though I can't find any meaning in this applicable to his character), and not a strictly Spanish name like those of Alejandro and his brothers. Instead, it's common in most Hispanic and Latin American countries.

José: The middle child and Alejandro's source of his lingering childhood trauma, if the aversion to the nickname "Al" is anything to go by, I've already written about their relationship. The name 'José' is a Spanish variant of Joseph, which means "to add/give" in it's simplest interpretation. He sure does give Alejandro a tonne of issues, so I suppose it tracks.

*And finally, analysing the symbolism of Alejandro's name.

Alejandro, derived from Alexander, meaning "warrior" and "man's defender". Though in Al's case, it's likely a reference to Alexander the Great as opposed to the name's literal meaning/origins- Alejandro conquered the competition like Alexander conquered his empire.

Burromuerto's double idioms combine "beating a dead horse donkey" with "blind as a bat", likely as a convoluted way to say he's blinding the dead donkey; in this case, the beaten dead horse donkey is the OG cast of Total Drama who have already been milked for two seasons of content and have little left to offer (therefore, the third season is the beating of the dead horse, as its' an attempt to force content out of a resource with nothing left to give. that's why they added two more competitors, if that makes any sense? I'm not sure if I'm explaining this well enough,) and Alejandro is deceiving or 'blinding' them through his manipulations.

Obviously, this is all speculation written by someone with too much free time and no expertise. All of my knowledge/facts come from google searches and connecting dots that likely have no real links to each other. I'm not an authority on any subject. Keep that in mind, please.

Feel free to add your own opinions/thoughts! Or correct things that are be wrong!

[dreamersbcll]

“I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule”

- whumptober, prompt no. 24

(goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)

—————————————————————————

Dear Mom,

I’ve started this letter so many times that I’m sure permanently smeared ink will be embedded in my skin.

There was an outline, a plan even for this letter. I’ve structured it over and over to get it right. But I suppose there is no right way to say goodbye, is there?

Well, I’ve spoiled it. This is a goodbye letter of sorts. I’m not really sure who I’m saying goodbye to anymore. Which mother will be reading this piece of paper?

Will it be the mother you were before I turned nine? I miss her, you know. You were so sweet in the beginning. I still hold myself at night to remember your presence. I know Sam loves to touch, but you were big on touch, Mom. You taught us how to be gentle and leave gentle markings.

Do you remember the night you first read “Mi Burro enfermo” to us? I remember it—every single second. I remember you holding me tight, letting my chubby fingers touch the crinkled pages. Sam was pressed into my side, and you held us both, kissing our heads as Sam read to me. You would correct her ever so gently and praise her every time she got a word right. I think I was three. Even that young, I remember it all.

What happened there? When did you stop reading to us? Where did the mother with the kind hands and the sweet smile go? Why did you stop making our lunches and taking us to the bus stop?

Why did you start drinking?

I mean, we were not enough anymore? Mom, I was six. Six years old and helping Sam drag you inside so you didn’t freeze out on the front lawn. I remember learning how to make you throw up, just in case you stopped responding. Sam had to teach me to call 911 and check for your pulse. I was six, Mom. Six!

Did you ever think of us, what this would do to us? God, I know having a child born from a serial killer is terrible, but isn’t child neglect worse? I don’t know why you did this to us. I wonder every single day if I deserved that. You were my mami. I love you. Why couldn’t you love us?

Why couldn’t you love me

I know I cried a lot. I know I was noisy. I know I was too much. But I was a child—a baby. I didn’t know better. I just wanted my mami to love me again.

But your jealousy, god, I can still see it now. You always talked down to me as if I would always be around and be your little pawn. All I wanted was to love you. I wanted to love you and be loved back. But you pushed my love away like it was a loaded gun- and pushed me down time and time again. All you did was hold me underwater, breaking my resolve until I was a shell of myself.

Dad leaving was tough. I know. I saw. But I lived that too- I was there. I was eight years old, mom eight! I know he left, and I know he hurt you, even if you didn’t love him like you loved Billy. But why couldn’t you ever think about us?

First, you left me, then Dad, then Sam. You had to know that Sam going was the final straw. You had to hear me cry and scream, and break things. I know you saw me, red-eyes and shaking, begging for someone to stay. I remember those nights when I begged you to love me again. I was thirteen. God, was I stupid.

It really was no surprise that I would run. I’m just surprised that it took me so long. I mean, it's clear that I’m a masochist, constantly begging for love from empty people. I just can’t believe it took me this long to buck up.

But it was because of Sam. Never you. Don’t ever get that twisted. I never would’ve left if it wasn’t for her coming back. I was invested, Mom; I was going to stay in that stupid little town and take care of your sorry ass. God. I’m so glad I’m writing this now to tell you goodbye.

That’s right. Yeah. I’m leaving with Sam. We’re going to be far away from this hellhole of a town. I will never step foot in this town again, and I will never walk back into this house.

I don’t care what you think. If I wrote this a year ago, maybe I would feel guilty. But all I have left for you is rage. I can’t give you my sorrow or hurt anymore. It’s just red-hot rage.

The questions I have for you won’t get answered. I know that you were never keen on tying up loose ends. But don’t worry, your questions will never be answered either. I’m done with you.

Fuck you, Mom. Fuck you for all you’ve done to me.

Yet, I still love you. You’re my mom. I have a big sister who means more to me than you’ll ever know- but you’re still my mom. You’ll still be a part of me.

But you will never touch me again. Ever. Sam will make sure of that.

Goodbye, mom. Good luck.

Don’t forget to stick your fingers down your throat.

Love

From, Tara.

Putting the pencil down, Tara sighed deeply, her eyes closing. She roughly rubbed her face, trying to push the worry out of her skin. There was no reason to carry it around anymore.

Down the hall, she could hear Sam shuffling about, collecting the last of Tara’s bags.

“Are you ready to go, baby?” Sam called, lightly knocking on the door.

Flashing a smile at her big sister, Tara nodded.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Tara calls back, hastily shoving the letter into an envelope.

Staring at the blank envelope, she pondered what to write. Christina felt too formal, but mom didn’t feel right. Taking the pen out, she scribbled a quick word on it and stuck the pen behind her ear.

Mami

As she left the room, she stared at the propped up envelope, wondering if it would ever be read.

Maybe. Maybe not. She wouldn't worry about it anymore. It was time to move forward.

[beetlewine-art]

At this point i just believe that the Roceit dynamic after svsRedux would be like the relationship between La Muerte/la Catrina and Xibalba from the book of Life. This two:

Like, so many lines they had in the movie fit perfectly with Roceit:

Virgil: i want my life back.

Roman: *looks at Janus* is only fair.

Janus: meh *turns away*

Roman: *hugging his arm and in a sweet voice* please Jani~

The other sides: Jani???

Janus: nop. Never.

Roman: *angry* You better do this.

Janus: nop.

-----------------------------------------------

Patton: i know about the bet, Janus cheated

Roman: He did WHAT?.

Logan: Yes, like the two-headed snake he is!

Roman: *visebly angry*

Virgil: You may wanna cover your ears right now.

Roman: *screeming* DE-CE-IIIIT!

Janus: *shows up with two glass cups and a boottle of wine* yes~ my love? *Sees the others* oh oh.

Roman: REPUGNANTE HIJO DE BURRO LEPROSO! you cheated! Again!

Janus: i would never do such thing!

Roman: *grabs a two-headed snake staff from behind his back*

Janus: o-oh, that! It has a mind of it's own... Or two.

-----------------------------------------------

Janus: please my dear, trade tasks with me, i beg you!

Roman: awww, you are so cute when you beg.

-----------------------------------------------

Janus: uh well, i believe you've won the waiger my love, along with my heart, all over again.

Roman: awww, Jani.

Janus: i am so sorry, my love, you deserve better than me. I know that now, will you ever forgive me? *Kisses Roman's hand*

Roman: i do *kisses him*

-----------------------------------------------

I could give more examples, but i think they fit perfectly.

Tag list: @emobeanwhoneedssleep @maze-arts @meowthefluffy @roman-can-gay @dorkyduckling16

[whywishesarehorses]

“My Wild Mustang Story - Elissa & Chico”

"My name is Elissa Dodson and I have had the joy of working with our mustang Chico for almost 18 years. Chico was originally adopted by my husband and his parents shortly before we met. While attending an auction in Carthage, MO they met this scrawny gray yearling from Wyoming who was such a food hound that, while the other horses crowded in a far corner, he spent the entire day with his head stuck through the bars begging for hand outs and scratches. Some things never change. That little boy came home with them, was christened Chico, and is still on the constant lookout for food and attention.

"I grew up as your average horse crazy girl, reading Marguerite Henry books and learning to ride on our backyard horses. While attending Missouri State University, and increasing my horse obsession by getting an Equine Studies minor and competing on the equestrian team, I met my future husband and was soon driving out to his family farm to go riding. The first clue my parents had that things were getting serious was when they began to hear an awful lot about one cute little mustang named Chico... who happened to be owned by this guy named Clay. At this point Chico was halter trained and ready to officially begin his saddle training. I had just completed a course on horse training and was eager to continue growing my skills in that area, so Clay and his parents very kindly let me take over Chico's education. I'm pretty sure that horse has taught me more than I could ever teach him, and very patiently dealt with me learning the ropes alongside him.

"It wasn't long before we were riding around the farm, and then trail riding with the other horses. Chico was right there when Clay proposed to me while out on a ride together, and since then has helped teach all six of our children to ride. He has grown from being a scrawny little yearling to a beautiful big gelding that has been referred to as a “Spanish warmblood” at a local horse show. He earned me my first blue ribbon, has carried me on miles and miles of trails, including horse camping trips into the nearby Ozark wilderness areas, and has helped me teach many hours of riding lessons to kids of all ages. He loves to jump, has quickly picked up basic dressage maneuvers, patiently carries packs and is a great lead horse for when I pack other horses behind him. He has a distinct dislike for curious black and white dairy cows who like to follow too close behind him, wants to splash and play in every puddle he comes across, and generally has a personality that is so big it pours out of him in every situation. No ride would feel complete without his complaining groaning as he carries me down the trail.

"Chico was influential in developing my love of mustangs. Since working with him we have adopted five other mustangs and one burro. Out of all the horses I have worked with over the years, I love that our mustangs have all been the most curious, intelligent and quick to learn. They are hardy, willing to please, share our love for exploring new places and each have their own unique and hilarious personalities."

---

This My Wild Horse Story story was submitted by Elissa Dodson to the BLM Tales From the Trails project

[selcoth]

What are you Seeking?

FORGIVENESS

"what should i apologize for; what i am or what i'm not?" // oh, little hero, how close are you to crumbling under the weight on your shoulders? how heavy has that heart of yours gotten? how deeply has the guilt burrowed into your bones? how permanently has the grief been seared into your soul? you were so tender, and the world so cruel. loss after loss after loss, each another chip on your shoulder. because you deserved it, didn't you? if you could be better...faster...stronger...smarter... then maybe it wouldn't have happened. right? the blood stains your hands, and it won't wash out will it? but darling, it's never been your fault. you've learned to turn the rage and the regret, the guilt and the grief, inwards. if you're hurt, it's your own fault isn't it? because then there's a reason for it, because it gives you some semblance of control, doesn't it? what you seek is forgiveness, for your perceived wrongs. but oh, little skeleton, you do not need it. stop blaming yourself for what was beyond your control. let go of the past. grow. and learn to breathe with both of your lungs. stop choking on your own self hatred. the weight will ease, i promise. i love you.

PEACE

"i survived because the fire in me burned brighter than the fire around me." // oh, little soldier, how long have you been at war with yourself? how much of yourself have you lost to the fire that's made its home in your heart? oh, but who can blame you? for as long as you can remember, you've had to face the world alone. all bared teeth and bloody knuckles. you learned young the only person you could rely on was yourself, didn't you? learned that the others would leave you to the wolves? and so you learned how to fight, how to stand tall even if you stood alone, how to shed the softness that wounded you before. but that isn't very sustainable, is it? the embers you swallowed, the fire you cloaked yourself in, it doesn't just burn the world around you. you have watched piece after piece of you go up in smoke: your hope, your smile, your mercy. what you seek is an end to the seemingly endless burning. and, little phoenix, you deserve it. please, breathe out. lean on me. the world isn't as cruel as you've made it out to be: it is okay to stop fighting. it is okay to let go of that anger. there is so much more to you, so much more that you have. the serenity you seek can be granted, but only once you are willing to work on letting go of the hate you've harbored for so long now.

HOME

"i wish i could say i am a light that never goes out, but i flicker from time to time." // oh, little one, you have burned for so quietly for so long, haven't you? burnt yourself out trying to give others light? wishing, desperately, that they would notice the way your hands shake or the wildflower bruises under your tired eyes. but they never have, have they? and so, it obviously wasn't bad? right? you had more to give, didn't you? how much could you pour yourself out before they noticed? it is all you've ever known, after all. help, help, help, help. (are you providing it, or begging for it?) but you've given too much, spread yourself too thin, didn't you? you are so heavy, so tired. you have spent your life carrying for others the way you wished someone would care for you. but you're worried, aren't you? that if you can't be what they need, if you can't be the pillar for others to lean on, they'll leave you. what you seek is home, a safe place to rest and be taken care of. and little light, you deserve it. you have earned it. you are worth more than what you can provide for others: you deserve the same care you so freely give out. they will love you all the same, honey. set down the world, and rest that weary heart of yours.

FORGIVENESS

"what should i apologize for; what i am or what i'm not?" // oh, little hero, how close are you to crumbling under the weight on your shoulders? how heavy has that heart of yours gotten? how deeply has the guilt burrowed into your bones? how permanently has the grief been seared into your soul? you were so tender, and the world so cruel. loss after loss after loss, each another chip on your shoulder. because you deserved it, didn't you? if you could be better...faster...stronger...smarter...then maybe it wouldn't have happened. right? the blood stains your hands, and it won't wash out will it? but darling, it's never been your fault. you've learned to turn the rage and the regret, the guilt and the grief, inwards. if you're hurt, it's your own fault isn't it? because then there's a reason for it, because it gives you some semblance of control, doesn't it? what you seek is forgiveness, for your perceived wrongs. but oh, little skeleton, you do not need it. stop blaming yourself for what was beyond your control. let go of the past. grow. and learn to breathe with both of your lungs. stop choking on your own self hatred. the weight will ease, i promise. i love you.

Tagged by: I stole it from @starlitwishes Tagging: Steal it from me!

[buriedinleather]

‘ beg your pardon? i didn't catch that.’ ( hi ghost ur Spanish sucks try again )

Ray may have lured Ghost into his life with Spanish lessons, but that smug look absolutely makes him want to smack the shit out of this bastard. "I wanna wipe that look off your face you - you - burro de merda." And, sure, Ghost doesn't have friends or associations outside of work. And, sure, Ray isn't a friend but he does somehow always end up bothering the shit out of him any time he gets a chance to go to his apartment.

"Quiero comida ahora." This time he at least sounds a little less like a British asshole. "Learned the insult just for you-" He frowns underneath the mask when he sees Ray rifling through his bookshelf. "I swear to whatever Gods you worship, Ray, I will bend you over my knee and spank you like the bloody brat you are if you touch any more of my shit."

Ghost grabs a newspaper, rolls it at lighting speed, and with an accuracy that could only be described as comically frightening aims and fires at Ray's head.

[rabbitcruiser]

South Dakota was admitted as the 40th U.S. state on November 2, 1889. 

[murcielagatito]

gloria says so much mean hurtful shit to maria because shes pissed and yet maria kept going back kept seeking forgiveness kept apologizing and gloria wasnt fucking having it not until maria helped her stay out of trouble did gloria realize that maybe she was being a bit too harsh maria begs gloria to take proper blame for her fuck up and gloria OWNS UP TO HER SHIT and then the book the fucking burro book she saves maria from extra time (to which she had previously doomed maria full cirlce moment) and then after all that still thinks of maria still sends her the book because she knows exactly what its like having to watch your kids grow up and not being able to be there for them the way you wish you could be anyways goodnight *passes away*

the way gloria y maria were obsessed with eachother seasons six and seven drives me kinda bonkers bc like maria is out here tryna apologize incessantly so that it pulls her towards gloria who on the other hand is obsessed with wrecking marias shit to hell and back going as far as succeeding in jumping marias ass the second they were in the same room together again in this essay i will-

[angelicasimonephotography]

[biographydivider]

Ever since I saw @glitternightingale's amazing Milk Day comic (and connected it to my own fic where Bruno lightly confuses a cow and a horse), I couldn't stop thinking that he just...doesn't know animals very well. And because my headphones died on the way to work, I wrote this on my commute today.

In the world of Bruno Madrigal, there were only two types of animal: Rats, and Not-Rats.

This affliction wasn't a result of him being in the walls for years with only rodents for company; sadly, it was something he'd lived with his whole life. Once, when he was about six, he'd begged and begged his mother to let him adopt 'the puppy' that had just been born on Señor Roja's farm.

It was a goat.

"Alright, alright Tio," Camilo sighed, holding up another of Antonio's animal friends. "What's this?"

Bruno pursed his lips, deep in thought. "Baby snake."

"It's a gecko, but that was close." Camilo let the lizard go and sat back on his haunches, tapping his lip. Bruno's sobrino had become midly obsessed with his 'animal blindness' ever since he found out Bruno once tried to milk a burro. A male burro.

"Okay, okay; I got one. Name five animals that live in...water. Any type of water - sea, rivers, whatever. Go!"

"Milo...."

"Do it or I tell Mami that you stole the last of her fancy eye cream!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez." Bruno ran his hands through his hair, steadying himself with an exhale. He could do this. It was easy. Right?

"So. I-in the water. There...are...frogs. And fish. Big fish...a-and small fish...and...regular fish."

He nodded, satisfied with his answer. Camilo groaned, tugging on his hair.

"Ay, Dios mio."

"Tio Bruno?"

Luisa tapped on his door, peeking in shyly. "Tio, I don't wanna interrupt, but I thought you might wanna know, well, your present's here."

"Ooh!"

It had been the triplets' birthday the week before, and Luisa had been devastated that her present for her Tio - whatever it was - hadn't arrived on time. Bruno hugged her tight and told her it didn't matter, it'd arrive when it arrived; but he'd been waiting with baited breath for days now, all the same. Even at fifty-one, he still loved presents. Who didn't?

"Can I see?"

"Okay....so I really hoped she'd be here by last weekend," Luisa babbled, producing a small, wooden box from behind her back, "but the man in Bogotá said she needed more time to be weaned, and..."

"She?"

Bruno took the wooden box from his sobrina - noticing it was dotted with tiny holes and seemed to be squeaking - set it down on his bed, and slid open the lid. There, nestled in pile of shredded newspaper, was a tiny, caramel-coloured rat; only just old enough to be away from her mother. She blinked, looking up at Bruno with sleepy eyes, and his heart was lost.

"Ohhhhh," Bruno breathed, slowly holding out his hand for the rat to sniff. "Hiii, cariño..."

The rat stirred; blinked again, and snuffled at Bruno's fingers. Her tiny, dainty whiskers tickled his hand, and he grinned. "You're so cute, aren'tcha?"

"'s a mouse," said Camilo, leaning over his tio's shoulder to peek into the box.

"No!" Luisa protested, puffing herself up even taller than she was normally. "She's not a mouse! I made sure! The man in Bogotá promised me! He said she's a --"

"She's a Satin Coat," Bruno murmured, almost to himself, gently stroking along the rat's back with one finger. "See how straight her whiskers are, with the lil' curls at the end? That's how you can tell. And that she's so shiny. You're so shiny, aren'tcha cariño? I think she's a...she's not a Topaz coat, I think she's Fawn. Is that right, Luisa?"

Luisa and Camilo gaped at their tio. "I..." Luisa stammered. "I-I think so. I've got her paperwork in my room?"

"Oh, I'd like to see it, very much." Bruno scooped up the baby rat and placed her in his flattened hand, never taking his eyes away from her. "Thank you, mi vida. She's perfect, I love her already. O-oh, I have a spare nest over here somewhere, she can stay there 'til she gets used to things...you've got lotsa brothers and sisters, mija, but we'll introduce you later, yes we will..."

"I knew you'd like her," Luisa beamed. "We'll leave you to get her settled in."

"She's the best present ever! Thank you, again!"

"Guy can't remember snakes don't have legs but he knows about Rat Colours an' crap?!" Camilo protested, as his prima ushered him out of the room, closing the door on the happy sounds of squeaking.

(And by the way, her name is Sweetie)

[introvertguide]

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948); AFI #38

The next Huston and Bogart collaboration that we reviewed was the infamous tale of greed and betrayal, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948). It was a film that was two decades in the making due to a world war, varying contractual obligations, and poor conditions due to location filming. It is debated that this was Bogart's best performance since it was a step away from the roles that had made him famous, but it did not earn him an Oscar nomination. The film did get four nominations and ended up winning Best Writing and Best Directing for John Huston as well as Best Supporting Actor for Walter Huston, John's dad. This was the only time that a father-son combo won Oscars for a film together. There are a lot of interesting firsts involved with this film, but I want to spoil it first for anyone who hasn't seen it. By the way...

SPOILER WARNING!!! THIS IS AN ANALYSIS, SO I AM GOING TO SPOIL EVERYTHING ABOUT THE MOVIE AND THEN EVERYTHING ABOUT THE PRODUCTION!!! IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE FILM COLD AND GET THE FULL EXPERIENCE, WATCH IT FIRST BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In 1925, in the Mexican town of Tampico, Fred C. Dobbs (Humphrey Bogart) is wandering around and begging for change. He keeps asking the same man in white (John Huston) for money until the man tells him no more handouts. Dobbs continues to beg and runs into another vagrant named Bob Curtin (Tim Holt). The two seem to have an understanding, but money is tight and they separate to look for job leads. Dobbs finds a man in an alley named Pat McCormick (Barton MacLane) and the latter asks the former if he wants a job. Dobbs agrees and goes to a raft and finds Curtin will also be working on this job. They are working as roughnecks to help construct oil rigs for $8 a day. When the project is completed and they return to Tampico, McCormick skips out without paying the men.

The two vagrants encounter an old man named Howard (Walter Huston) in a flophouse. The loquacious and penniless ex-miner talks to them about gold prospecting and the perils of striking it rich. Dobbs and Curtin run into McCormick at a cantina, and after a bar fight, collect their back wages. When Dobbs hits a small jackpot in the lottery, he, Curtin and Howard have enough money to buy the supplies they need to go prospecting in the interior.

Departing Tampico by train, the three help to repulse a bandit attack led by "Gold Hat" (Alfonso Bedoya). North of Durango, the trio head into the remote Sierra Madre mountains. Howard proves to be the hardiest and most knowledgeable of the three. After several days of arduous travel, Howard spots gold that the others had passed by.

The men toil under harsh conditions and amass a fortune in placer gold. But as the gold piles up, Dobbs becomes increasingly distrustful of the other two. The men agree to divide the gold dust immediately and hide their shares. At one point, Curtin sees a Gila monster crawl under a rock and it turns out that this was where Dobbs had hid his share. Curtin warns Dobbs, but Dobbs just assumes that Curtin is trying to steal another share of the gold. It is apparent that Dobbs is being driven insane by the greed for gold, just as Howard had predicted.

Curtin, while on a resupply trip to Durango, is spotted making purchases by a Texan named Cody (Bruce Bennett). Cody secretly follows Curtain back to the encampment. When he confronts the three men, they lie about what they are doing there, but he is not fooled. He boldly proposes to join their outfit and share in any future takings. Howard, Curtin and Dobbs talk it over and vote to kill him. As they announce their verdict, pistols in hand, Gold Hat and his bandits arrive. They claim to be Federales. After a tense parley, a gunfight ensues, and Cody is killed. A genuine troop of Federales suddenly appears and pursues Gold Hat and his gang. The three prospectors examine Cody's personal effects. A letter from a loving wife reveals that he was trying to provide for his family.

Howard is called away to assist local villagers with a seriously ill little boy. When the boy recovers, the next day, the villagers insist that Howard return with them to be honored. Howard leaves his goods with Dobbs and Curtin and says he will meet them later. Dobbs and Curtin constantly argue, until one night Dobbs shoots Curtin and takes all the gold. However, Curtin is not dead; he manages to crawl away and hide during the night.

Finding Curtin gone, Dobbs flees, but is ambushed at a waterhole by Gold Hat and his men. They first toy with him, then kill him (it is implied that Dobbs is beheaded with a machete). The bandits mistake the bags of gold dust for sand and dump the treasure, taking only the burros and supplies. The gold is scattered by the strong wind. Meanwhile, Curtin is discovered by indios and taken to Howard's village, where he recovers.

Gold Hat's gang tries to sell the stolen burros in town, but a child recognizes the brands on them (and Dobbs' clothes, which the bandits are wearing) and reports them to the authorities. The bandits are captured and summarily executed by the Federales.

Howard and Curtin return to Durango in a dust storm and reclaim their pack animals, only to find the empty bags. At first shaken by the loss, first Howard, then Curtin, grasp the immense irony of their circumstances, and they burst into laughter. Howard decides to return to the village to accept an offer of a permanent home and a position of honor, while Curtin sells their recovered property to return to the United States, where he will seek out Cody's widow. As Curtin leaves, the camera pans down to a cactus as he rides past. Lying next to it is a bag of gold, still full.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This film was a major change of pace for Bogart, making it very difficult to advertise. An actor who is generally the hero turns out to be a villain that shoots his partner and then is unceremoniously beheaded by a bandit is not what audiences expected or even wanted. Using Bogart's star power and reputation for being a good guy romantic lead to attract audiences and then doing his character dirty like he was done is the 40s version of clickbait. And yet the film was moderately successful with audiences and earned four Academy Award nominations. Where this trick to the audience is apparent is the lack of even a nomination for Bogart despite it being one of his finest acting roles.

I watched the movie a couple of times over the last few days and that included commentary from the guy who wrote the biography of Bogart, a Mr. Eric Lax. It was extremely informative and was actually very different from the IMDB trivia page. I am going to trust the official biographer on this one, so some of the following information that is presented as fact is second hand from the movie commentary.

There were two father-son teams on the set of this particular film. The first is was of course the director, John Huston, and his father who played the part of Howard, Walter Huston. The other was actually the other nice guy, Curtin, who was played by Tim Holt, and the old man who warned the two that Pat McCormick was lying to them, played by Jack Holt. John Huston was actually in the film playing the American in the white suit, which made this film the only one with two father-son duos with speaking roles in a single film.

The Huston family has a couple of other notable film accomplishments. John Huston directed his father to an Academy Award and also directed his daughter, Angelica Huston, to a Best Supporting Actress award in Prizzi's Honor (1985). On both occasions, the elder Huston in the film died very soon after working with their child. Walter died a year after his role in Sierra Madre and John died less then two years after Prizzi's Honor. I felt a little sad about that at first, but then it is nice that a parent can work with their child doing what they do best at the end of their life.

Apparently the filming was very difficult and took its toll on the actors and crew. There was a joke about the old man, Howard, being a tough old goat, and that comes from the local crew outpacing the location scouts when Huston first went down to Mexico to look for places to film. The filming took place during the rainy season so there were many delays. The irony was that there was lots of gusting wind except on the day that they needed it and there was lots of rain and flooding except on the day when Dobbs finds the little collection of water.

A rather silly note (or at least I thought so) was that one of the big pushes to get the film done was that Humphrey Bogart wanted to participate in a boat race. He had his boat, the Santana, that he had been practicing with around Catalina when pre-production was halted due to John Huston joining the military during WW2. Bogart wanted to take part in the Honolulu Yacht Race in which he had participated in the past. Bogart's wife, Lauren Bacall, said that the yacht was the only thing that she ever felt jealous of. The constant complaining by Bogart about the time caused one of the only fights he had with John Huston. The director purportedly grabbed Bogart by the nose and twisted until Bogart shut up. It was not brought up again and Bogart missed his race.

One actor that made a surprising cameo in the film was the little boy that sold Dobbs the winning lottery ticket. The part was played by a very young Robert Blake (freaking Beretta) who was a child film star. He had played the role of Mickey in Our Gang short films for almost a decade by the time he was in Sierra Madre. I was surprised to also find out that Blake had almost 80 acting credits before his small part in this film. By the way, he does not have a Mexican accent. Sadly, I think that Blake is now most famous for being accused of hiring somebody to kill his wife. Not a great legacy.

My family commented on the look of Bogart and how weirdly greasy his hair looked. His hair looked pretty weird throughout the film, as a matter of fact. According to Eric Lax, Bogart was taking hormone shots in an attempt to get Bacall pregnant and had lost a lot of his hair. All of those funny looking haircuts were toupees. The one used when Dobbs got a haircut was most notable, especially since you can since Bogart's actual hair at the back.

A final fun fact was the death of Dobbs being a strangely cut machete strike that was hidden by the backside of a donkey was not the original depiction. There was an actual fake head rolling down to the water that was cut out of the film. Bogart famously kept the head and was very disappointed when the scene was cut out of the film. That would have been pretty gory for the time, but Huston knew it would not get past the sensors and he wanted the film to get distributed. Oh well.

So does the film belong on the AFI 100? Of course. For similar reasons as The Maltese Falcon. This was one of the best works produced by one of the best director/writer and lead actor combos of all time. It is an amazing story that doesn't end how one would expect from a movie of the time. It is classic and innovative at the same time. Would I recommend it? Absolutely. It is a fine film that tells the story of what greed can do to an otherwise good person. It is also very clean to the point that I would recommend it to any age group.

[whywishesarehorses]

My Wild Horse Story

                                                               Jul 1, 2020                                              

Submitted by Katie Jo Smart, Mississippi

“He’s going to outgrow the pony soon, and we just don’t have the money for a Jr. High Rodeo horse,” I whispered to my husband as we looked through the panels at a small bay mare with a big head and even bigger eyes. Our son needed a new horse as he would eventually move on to Jr. High and High School Rodeo, and a professionally trained horse at $40k just wasn’t in the cards. A $25 horse, however, may be something to consider. I watched her move across the pen, her big eyes unsure and untrusting. I shrugged my shoulders and got in my car to leave. I went home and tried to clear my mind, but her quick feet and athletic nature were absolutely haunting.

“What if this could be the one? What if this is the horse to take him to Nationals? Wouldn’t that be a hoot, if a wild horse went to the High School Rodeo National Finals with all of those fancy high-bred rodeo horses?!”

I went to sleep thinking about that mare, woke up with her on my mind, and was basically only a warm body for the day until I went back to see her again.

There she was. Her pen had been sorted through, as most of her temporary roommates had been adopted. As I gazed over her wondering if I could even do any justice, a friendly face came towards me. “Well, what are you thinking?” asked Mr. Cary Frost, BLM Wild Horse and Burro Specialist.

“Honestly, sir, she is very catty and athletic but I’m wondering if I could even do her justice.”

“She is smart,” he added. He went about his way to talk to another prospective adopter as I stared into her pen trying to envision myself even attempting to train an 800lb, for all intents and purposes, wild animal. I went home again.

This dance went back and forth to the point that I made four trips to the adoption center before I was ready and confident enough to sign the adoption papers. She was one of only three that had not been taken home and the other two may have been adopted and waiting on their ride.

“How much is she” I asked Mr. Cary. "$25 or $125?”

“That one is $25,” he replied. I nervously went to the adoption desk. After verifying that I had all necessary facilities to hold a wild horse and the proper shelter, I handed over my $25 and signed my John Hancock.

“Would you like to sign her up for the Adoption Incentive Program?” asked another BLM employee, Demerits.

“What’s that?”

“Well, you get $1,000 for adopting a wild horse.”

“I’m sorry, I have a trick ear, what was that?” I asked. “If you keep the horse and prove that it’s been properly taken care of, you get $1,000,” he replied.

I could have been knocked over with a feather! You mean to tell me, that you are giving me this horse for $25 and you’re adding $1,000 too?

This day couldn’t get any better, I had found my son a horse and this horse was basically paying for everything itself. Feed, hay, farrier work, vet bills. She was financially independent.

We loaded her up, cut the tag from around her neck and she was mine.

She was unloaded into her pen and I just stared with the overwhelming feeling of “what did I just do.” I had never trailered a tornado before.

Then the research began. I combed through every well of knowledge as if I were writing a thesis. Every movie, documentary, YouTube video or blog about wild horse training, I was studying. I learned the most from the movie Wild Horse Redemption - I felt that it was the most accurate by far.

This is where the fairy tail takes a short pause.

3 days to touch her.

5 days of begging to lead her while most of those days she was leading me.

7 days to put a towel on her back to mimic a saddle pad.

2 weeks to pick her feet up.

1 month before her first farrier visit.

4 months to fully saddle her.

5 months before our first ride.

6 months before she would load on a trailer.

6 months before I could ride her around cattle.

Needless to say, September 14 until mid-March 2020 was a trying time. Every day was a new day, as much for me as it was for her. Training went like this: If she would accept A, I would move to B. If she would accept B, we went to C. If C was a “no go”, we reinforced B.

It was 6 months of trials and tribulations but when the victories came, they rained down. I can honestly and without holding back say that this horse, this “wild mustang” that my entire family was intimidated by because of the mustang stereotype, is the number one horse in my string. She is the one I want to go ride and bring cows up on. She is the one I load first to go to the arena. She is my pick. She is my Marty and she was worth it. I know without a shadow of a doubt that she will take my son to the High School National Finals rodeo. Keep an eye out for her, she will be the little bay with the freeze brand on her neck.