#hands off Venezuela

[mourntomidnight]

Fyi I will always be an anarchist but I will always put the needs of natives first in regards to how they want to govern themselves and will support them in that because I’ve admittedly grown to dislike the anti indigenous, anti sex work and genuine anti semitism in online western leftism and just imo online leftists are oftentimes either feds, privileged yt ppl shit stirring and predators trying to appropriate left talking points for their self interest.

Most real leftists generally don’t advertise their beliefs and work they do online unless it’s poc doing online education or it’s local groups showcasing their org work and keeping their irl local community updated on certain things like direct action or dealing with local fash.

Also my anti yt beliefs are based against the concept of a yt identity. I condemn those who choose to embrace whiteness but I’ll always support Europeans choosing to reconnect with their European tribal heritage in a healthy manner. I have nothing against the Europeans or European Americans I know online or irl for their skin color, just whether or not they reject whiteness and Christianity.

[the-leegend-99]

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[the-leegend-99]

Seconding all of this. While Venezuela needs to be defended from US imperialistic intervention, and Maduro (however mediocre) has unmistakably won the election and attempts to replace him with US puppets Maria Corina Machado and Edmund González must be resisted, it is up to the communes, to the marxist and leninist wings of the PSUV (the main party of chavismo, which holds basically all leftist tendencies together from social democracy to communism and is deeply divided between revolutionaries, bourgeois/bureaucratic opportunists and everything in between), to the other parties inside the chavista coalition, to finally bring the bolivarian revolution from a merely bourgeois, reformist and redistributive stage to a socialist stage. He must be recognized as President and at the same time pushed even further.

The Communist Party of Venezuela appears horribly unfit to do it, they have exposed themselves as unserious by supporting a liberal, pro-privatization candidate who was proudly anti-chavista and anti-socialist from day one and are basically supporting the US line without the strength to present a credible communist revolutionary alternative to the working class of Venezuela. So what is left to the working class to build socialism but chavismo and its various factions, regardless of it being, as stated, a left-wing nationalist-democratic container? It's not simply rethoric, it's just a statement of there being very few options. Chavismo, despite its limitations, has put in places structures from which genuine socialism can spring if the working class organizes transversally and is able to fully wrest power from the bourgeoisie. It may have not desired to go any further than what it laid down already, but it matters little. The groundwork is there.

What are your criticisms of Chavismo and Maduro just out of curiosity?

now i'd like to preface this with a disclaimer that any opposition ghoul would do nothing but sell the country out to the USA and UK every which way in a heartbeat--maduro is better than any alternative, whether that's guaidó or whichever neoliberal puppet they prop up to replace him.

anyway, there were two key problems with chavismo. firstly, it's fundamentally a national-bourgeois led social democratic movement. obviously in an imperialized country like venezuela this made it profoundly progressive, and the achievments of the bolivarian revolution were incredible--chávez cut malnutrition in half, cut unemployment in half, sent millions of children to school and gave millions of elderly people pensions. however, this project of wealth distribution ultimately had to accomodate the national bourgeoisie. which of course on one hand you can argue was completely necessary, but on the other hand allowed the parasitic classes to entrench themselves firmly within elements of the state apparatus and made chavismo as a project entirely incapable of confronting the national bourgeoisie or corruption.

these of course are the realities of 'democratic socialism', of sweeping a socialist into office in a bourgeoise democracy. through some extremely clever political structures, such as the new constitution, communes, and bolicarian circles--he was able to move much more radically than most in his position. but ultimately, he could not escape the fundamental limits of the source and constraints of his power.

the second is that--and this is a very tawdry and obvious piece of analysis--while it is of course admirable and correct that he seized the nation's oil wealth and enriched the country with it--the way he did it was obviously shortsighted. without a sovereign wealth fund, worker's democratic control of the oil industry, or a solid and far-ranging investment plan, he laid the groundwork for some of the current crisis on the assumption that oil prices would stay high forever.

maduro inherited these faults and added far more of his own. during the crisis that began in earnest in 2016, the other shoe dropped wrt oil prices at the same time as the US tightened their murderous sanctions regime. faced with economic crisis, maduro has broadly chosen to move from chávez' strategy of accomodation with the national bourgeoisie to a full on alliance. social programs have been slashed, pensions cut, wages have plummeted, and worst of all, maduro has sold off countless state enterprises in the hope that oft-prayed to benevolent deity, "foreign capital" would miraculously heal the economy. in the course of this he made an enemy of many early chavistas, as well as the leftmost wing of chávez' coalition -- he has mobilized the full force of the bourgeois state against the country's communist party and other genuinely revolutionary movements, most gallingly the marxist-leninist movimiento tupamaro.

so, tldr: chavismo was genuinely radical compared to even your average third-world social democracy--however it remained fundamentally constrained in what it could accomplish by the lack of an actual proletarian state, was unable to rid itself of reliance on the national bourgeoisie for that same reason, and made some very avoidable mistakes in the handling of the nation's oil wealth--maduro inherited those flaws but has been much more accomodating to both national and international capitalists to the detriment of the people of venezuela.

[kalospiaalmana]

Syria,

Sudan,

Democratic Republic of the Congo,

Afghanistan,

Ethiopia,

Yemen,

Myanmar,

Somalia,

Haiti,

State of Palestine,

Kenya,

Venezuela,

Mali,

Niger

Nigeria,

Ukraine,

Bangladesh,

Pakistan,

Rohingya

Sahel.

Lebanon

[phereinnike]

I have seen lots of posts made by americans 'fighting against american imperialism' (because we all know they're the only country in the world in any regard) telling venezuelans that they're so lucky to live in communism and that they should support the violent dictator than regularly threatens to end their lives in a bloodbath (and then goes ahead and does it) because he's such a leftist hero.

That is ignorance and arrogance.

TAGGING THE AUTHORITIES OF A TOTALITARIAN REGIME IN THE POSTS OF PEOPLE ASKING FOR HELP, KNOWING DISSENTERS ARE BEING 'REEDUCATED' AND NEVER SEEN AGAIN IS NOT IGNORANCE OR ARROGANCE, IT IS EVIL.

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 09/10/2024 Carlos Sainz - Spanking and Punishment

Plot: Carlos doesn’t take lightly to how you talk to the ‘boys’ of the paddock

Warnings: Kinktober SMUT, spanking, punishment, kinda mean! Carlos, dirty talk, name calling, etc 18+ Minors DNI

Carlos loved taking you to the races, it was a way to prove that he was taken and taken by someone like you.

You, a hot spicy model that when you walked through the paddock had all the boys drooling and stopping their work. Your face card was lethal and somehow made an appearance on every weekend you attended.

You’d be in the Ferrari garage talking to Alexandra about fashion and upcoming thing you had to do after the race weekend and how you tried to keep your work local to Carlos and on he weekdays so weekends, race weekends were left free for him.

It was very hot in Singapore so you’re outfit whilst still respectful, wasn’t exactly on the modest side, the minute you entered the paddock wolf whistles were heard from every angle. You beamed smiles at the photographers who you passed and shared greetings with people who came up to you as you made your way through the garage.

“Y/N! Hi!” A voice calls after you, you head whipping round too meet the gleam of Lando Norris.

“Hey!” You beam back, pulling him into a hug and kissing either one of his cheeks.

“How have you been we missed you in Baku” he smiles acknowledging how you weren’t in fact at the last race.

“Yeah been good. It was a shame I had a shoot in LA, but I’m here nod think I’ll be good for Texas too! Can’t believe this is the last year I’ll be in the Ferrari paddock though, Red’s literally my colour” you complain to Lando.

“Mmmmm yeah? I think you’d look pretty good in Papaya … you know if you ever wanted to come over to us” he flirts and you shake your head, he was always like this with you ever since you first joined Carlos in the McLaren paddock. It started as a way just to rile Carlos up before media duties and races and then it was just fun seeing your reaction.

“Oh yeah? Need me an LN4 cap?” He tease and his cheeks redden slightly not expecting you to retaliate so quickly.

“Yes, for sure” he grins but a cough and arm circling round your waist interrupts.

“Lando… please leave my girlfriend alone” Carlos grins but you can sense the jealousy whereas Lando laughs it off, not thinking he was being serious. You’re about to leave to get to the hospitality suite when Carlos arms tightens around you and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You’re getting it when we finish up here” he grits out before releasing you, placing a soft kiss on ou forehead and sending you off with a light tap on your bum while he continues to talk to Lando.

You walk around then Ferrari garage before you find yourself talking to a group of mechanics, Carlos no where to be seen but all their stories were so interesting you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to find more about your boyfriends team.

“What’s this?” Carlos asks interrupting one of the mechanics stories about his trip to Venezuela and where he’d just hopped on a random bus and ended up in the middle of nowhere.

“I’m in the middle of a story about, Mattheo’s trip to Venezuela” you smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you sip on the drink one of the group had fetched for you.

After an exhaustingly long day, you went back to the hotel with Carlos. You could tell he was a little antsy from the day, when you tried to take a hold his his hand he scrunched it away to focus on the road making you sigh out.

Once in the hotel room Carlos is immediately pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“You’ve been a bad girl, talking to all those … boys when you have a real man right here” he grunts out looking over at you. He was pretty upset with just how much talking you’d done today. And to him, your bright smile and sparkly eyes was you flirting but little did he no that was just your natural aura and charm working.

That’s actually how you got HIM hooked in the first place.

“I haven’t i only have eyes for you I promise” you smile softly at him, but your bent over his legs ass up in the air. He hitches the satin dress you wore for r to see in the paddock today, to reveal your lacy red thing just to him.

“My pretty pretty baby you know what’s about to happen right? You need to be punished for today!” He says in a calm voice making you moan the more pressure he put on your back to press into him.

“Yes Carlos” you breath out.

“You’re going to count every single one until I’m done okay. And if you don’t say the number well start again okay?” He explains and you nod, very used to this with Carlos. It’s something you’d both established pretty early on in the relationship as something you both get enjoyment out of.

His hand comes down for the first slap, the sound echoing around the room as your feel the sting and jiggle of your behind.

“1” you breath out for the first time. It was a lighter one, but that’s how Carlos stated, he always built himself up.

His hand come down again, harder this time but still just enough so it was a pleasurable sting that had you moaning into the open air before you could say the next number.

“2” you moan as his hand lightly rubs over the swelling red mark on your bum.

You get through all the way to number 8 when he’d started to get a little tougher, not always rubbing away the pain after and it coming more consecutively.

His hand does a little love tap next that has you not say anything as you didn’t think it counts making him sigh.

“Start from the beginning baby” he sighs in what only sounds like disappointment.

And so you did, starting from one again and it was torture. This time you’d managed to get through to 15. Tears were streaming down your eyes in a good way, a frustrating mix of pain and pleasure that wasn’t quiet enough to send you over the edge but still felt good.

He pulled you up to straddle him where he easily slipped himself out of his jogging bottoms. He pulls your thing to the side of your ass holding it there as he slips himself in with a sigh. You always felt so good wrapped around him.

“You can’t cum until I say okay?” He adds and you nod, you help him by bouncing up and down, your hands finding the bottom of his t-shirt to pull up and over his head. The Ferrari team shirt it chucked to the floor while your hands roam his now bare back your nails lightly scratching along his shoulder blades as you try keep yourself as physically close to him as possible.

He keeps you on the edge, slowing his own thrusts down and holding your hips drilling you against him to prolong your feelings. He releases inside, the feeling of warmth filling up and your so close yourself until Carlos stops and pulls straight out of you.

“You don’t get to, not tonight … not after today” he smirks as he looks at your list blown eyes and tears filling them at the realisation he’s just denied you your orgasm. You groan in frustration as you climb off him and jump into the bed face down.

“Come on amor, it’s not that bad” he says kissing the top of your head before walking into the bathroom to clean himself up.

“Hopefully this has taught you a valuable lesson Cariño no?” He laughs seeing your annoyed expression at him.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[crushpunky]

kook!reader finds rafe after ward’s death

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

warning: intense + mentions of death

The second the story struck the TV, y/n drove as fast as she could to Tanneyhill.

Famous Businessman and Alleged Murderer Ward Cameron Found Dead in Venezuela

As soon as she pulled into the driveway, y/n fumbled for the house key Rafe had given her, opening the front door without even knocking. Her heart raced, frantically looking around the house for Rafe, praying and hoping to find him before he had done anything drastic.

“Rafe! Rafe!” Y/n screamed, scrambling up the stairs towards Rafe’s bedroom, the door closed. She reached the door, trying the knob before pounding on the door and shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Rafe, Rafe, please let me in! Please, Rafe!” Y/n screamed, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she continued to hit her fists against the locked door. She felt herself gasping for air, her head filling with fears of what could possibly be behind the door. Pictures of Rafe passed out, his eyes fogged up, his heart still…

“Y/n?” Y/n turned around at the sound of her voice to see Wheezie stepping out into the hallway, her cheeks flushed and eyes red.

“Wheeze, oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Y/n ran to Wheezie, wrapping the young girl in a hug. Wheezie stumbled back for a second before relaxing into the hug.

“R- Rafe’s not here.” Wheezie said into y/n’s shoulder, causing her to pull away quickly.

“What? Where is he? Wheezie, where the hell is he?” Y/n stuttered, holding onto Wheezie. Where was he? Was he at Barry’s? Was he in the middle of the ocean? Was he even alive?

“He… he left and— we tried to stop him, y/n.” Wheezie whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Wheeze, where did he go?” Y/n pled, her breathing ragged as she tried her best to stay calm around the youngest Cameron.

“I don’t know. I’m—” Wheezie began, but was cut off when they heard a crash outside. Y/n’s eyes widened before taking off down the stairs. She flung open the back door and glanced around the patio until she finally found him: face down on one of the patio chairs, Rafe was slumped, his arms covered in bloody scrapes and bruises.

“Rafe! Rafe, oh my god.” Y/n ran over to him, kneeling down at his feet and grabbing his face in her hands. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, his eyelids were low, and his lip was split, a bruise adorning one of his cheekbones. 

“Rafe? Rafe, please say something. R-Rafe…” Y/n lightly shook Rafe’s head, praying for him to wake up.

“Is he ok?” Wheezie said as she stepped out onto the patio. Rafe’s jaw was slack as his limp body sank lower into y/n’s lap, her entire body trembling with fear

“Wheezie get help! Wheeze— Rose—” Y/n let out a shriek, her hands shaking Rafe frantically as her mind swirled with panic.

“Oh my god—”

“Rafe! Rafe! Please—”

Suddenly, Rafe’s eyes fluttered open as he gasped for air. Y/n felt her body collapse in relief, pulling Rafe into her chest with a sob. 

“Oh my god, Rafe. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Y/n continued to sob, holding Rafe’s body against her own. Eventually she pulled away to look at him, his blue eyes looking up at her with a hazed expression.

“Y/n I’m—” Rose ran out onto the patio followed by Wheezie, both of their faces relaxing once they saw Rafe moving slowly to sit up.

“Y/n…” Rafe slurred, his eyes blinking to focus on the girl in front of him.

“Rafe, I’m so sorry.” Y/n whispered as she ran her fingers along his buzzed haircut, her eyes still brimming with tears.

“It hurts, y/n. It hurts.” Rafe said before burying his head into y/n’s shirt, his hands digging further into y/n’s back, pulling her closer into him. She wrapped her arms around him, their bodies molding together as they held each other.

“I’ve got you, Rafe. I’ve got you, boy.” Y/n sniffled. As the hours ticked on, y/n held her friend as he mourned the loss of the man who had caused him so much pain, but had been the only father he had ever known. Y/n found herself cursing Ward Cameron. Cursing the man that had been so selfish and awful that, even in death, he continued to destroy the boy he claimed to love.

[lazycats-stuff]

I love the Brazilian batboy fanfic, consider doing it with a Venezuelan batboy in the future please 🙌🏻

Alright, lets do it! This gif is from Giphy since there are no good gifs regarding Venezuela on Tumblr so I thought why not get something from the internet. Also, this is shorter than usual since the heat is killing me. Officially, I swear. I want winter back.

Summary: (Y/N) is Venezuelan. Enough said.

Warnings: none really

Bruce strikes once again with his mister worldwide status. Turns out that Bruce had another kid in Venezuela. At this point, everyone was already over it and had no intentions of even getting aggravated in the slightest.

Even Damian, the only biological son up until this point didn't get pissed. He said it wasn't worth the aggravation and went on with his day calmly and peacefully. Bruce was suspicious beyond belief, but eventually said that a calm Damian is a great Damian. He really didn't expect this reaction from Damian, but he choose not to question it.

Either way, with everything going on with in Venezuela, he wanted to bring his son here, to the USA, so he can attend great college once he finishes high school. Immigration might be a bitch, but hey, he has money, connections and people who have power owe him favors. And besides, anyone seeing his name will make them move faster.

Sure, it sounds entitled and out of touch type of shit, but Bruce couldn't care at this point. Immigration is the worst type of torture in modern day society. But honestly. Anyone trying to move or get a visa or a citizenship, knows it's the biggest hassle and annoyance in the world.

But either way, Bruce brought (Y/N) to Gotham and (Y/N) was working on getting his American citizenship. (Y/N) was slowly getting there. He knew English, but when it came to Spanish, he talked insanely fast. Insanely. When he got mad, he was talking faster than Flash could run.

Jason found it amusing as hell. Sometimes he would intentionally make (Y/N) mad to see how fast he could make him to talk. Everyone else stayed out of it, trying to see how they could get along with (Y/N).

Dick noticed that (Y/N) was warm towards everyone, welcoming to whoever came to him and open. That was nice compared to Americans. Dick adored those qualities in him and in people. Sure, the world is a cold place and you can't trust everyone, but sometimes you need to be open.

Tim loved how loudly (Y/N) would talk. It would keep him up when he needed to be up late. Sometimes it would scare him and he would jump like a scaredy cat sometimes, but he enjoyed the loudness of his voice and how it would keep him up when they talked.

Damian loved how he prioritized family. Despite not being blood related to everyone, he treated them like that. No difference. Whatever they needed, (Y/N) would tried to help them all. Damian respected that more than (Y/N) could ever know.

And, Jason loved how (Y/N) could party his ass off. Jason has never met a person who could party like him. Just let loose and have fun with his family or friends he has made here. It was just... Cool and Jason wished he was so cool and so relaxed.

However, Bruce didn't know that all of Gotham would go insane for his son. He didn't know that Venezuelan people were all pretty. Well, not all, but a good majority. He didn't expect the entire city to just talk about his son as if he was a piece of meat...

Sure, (Y/N) had Bruce's looks and his mother's looks and sure, (Y/N) was Latino, but this is slowly but surely getting out of hand. (Y/N) didn't mind, knowing he looked great, but Bruce was worried. As always. He always worried about his children. No matter how old they are, Bruce is always worried.

Sexualization of children is never okay. No matter the gender. And no matter the age as well.

But all in all, (Y/N) adapted to American culture quite well. Sure, there were weird moments where (Y/N) wondered what the hell were Americans thinking, but all in all, (Y/N) was doing great.

[beababoobies]

GIRL I LOVE YOU

What do you think of a Jealous! Satoru husband x Beautiful! Reader's wife where they haven't had gogogo for months, their relationship is cold and Satoru is distant, so the reader goes to a nightclub to dance and Satoru in the middle of her missions finds her and gets very jealous? And then they confess their love to each other and have a happy night?

All the love from Venezuela my dear queen 🇻🇪🔥

Hihi!! Venezuela??? Un nuevo seguidor de habla hispana!!! hola! This looked so fun to write, so I jumped right on it. Enjoy fellow QWEEEN. <3 much love from Canada !! 

warning: slight angsty, self-deprecation. This is unedited and not proof-read, so if you see any errors, please feel free to shoot me a dm! Thank you!!

There were some things you shared with your friends. Hobbies, personal details, clothes, but you couldn’t share how things had been going with your husband, Satoru. It would be way, way too embarrassing to talk about how you, first of all, hadn’t been intimate in months, and second all, barely spoke. You went to sleep in the same bed. You shared a closet. But the words exchanged between the two of you were so far and few in-between one could’ve assumed it had been an arranged marriage. The most you had gotten in the past handful of months had been a kiss on the cheek, and that was because you were visiting friends and didn’t want to look awkward. The drive back to your house was silent. You felt like screaming. 

There was a million things bottled up in your mind, and even more importantly, your body. There was a screaming to have intimacy, obviously, human instinct - but there was something so much deeper, an insecurity you had been picking at like a scab that never healed. The dreadful thought that this was entirely your fault, that he wasn’t attracted to you anymore, or maybe you had said something wrong. You kept coming back to it, at night when you missed the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the way he just gave you a small nod whenever you asked if he liked your outfit. The way you couldn’t bring yourself to try and rekindle the raging fire you once danced in, now burnt out and nothing above an amber. 

So, one night, while the very man in question was out on one of his millions of missions, you let the insecurities get the best of you. You wanted to feel desired, you longed to feel as wanted and yearned over as you had when your husband took you out on those first could have dates. The way he tripped over himself when he used to open the door for you, feigning confidence. The memories lit a new flame in you - anger, as sharp as a blade and just as deadly as you dolled yourself back up, heels brand new and matching with the most scandalous outfit you owned - paired with your hair done up? Oh, you felt like your self-worth had turned from a penny to a fortune. Something not the richest men in the world could afford, not even your bum of a husband. 

You felt anxiety bubble up in your stomach on the way to the club you used to hang around before you and Satoru had finally put a ring on it. What if you truly had somehow turned into some gross form of a human in the years you had been married? What if your late-night suspicions were correct, and Satoru was justified in the way he drifted off from you? What if you didn’t deserve him anymore, and you were trying to convince yourself of something completely untrue, instead of just begging him to stay? 

The anxiety in your stomach melted away the second you stepped into the purple lights of the club. Eyes drifted to you, quicker than you had even anticipated. You almost felt dissected by the amount of pupils that dilated once they fell onto you. Like a sleek race car that had been kept in the garage for a decade, finally dusted off and speeding down the freeway, the wind in your hair. Sitting down the bar was easy, avoiding unwanted attention was not.

Okay, maybe it was a little unrealistic to want the looks but not to be approached. You did want to make Satoru jealous, maybe just a bit, but it would never cross your mind to actually cheat on your husband. To you, he was still the most handsome man you’d met in your entire life. The drunkards and men on other substances that approached you couldn’t compare if they tried, but you did end up accepting a couple free drinks. How could you not? Free alcohol.

So there you sat, alone, a shining star in an ocean of black, a little more tipsy than you were ever planning to get. The bar seemed to spin a little bit, and rejecting men seemed to get a little harder. Apparently, being drunk makes you automatically available. A new anxiety bubbled up in your tummy, and suddenly you missed your husband, you needed to lay on his chest more than you needed air. Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you wouldn’t let them. You wouldn’t ruin the makeup you put on less than an hour ago. You pulled your phone out of your purse, sniffling softly as you planned to call Shoko and cry to her, finally talk about your situation. 

A tap on your shoulder made you jump a little bit, but you were used to it now. You didn’t look up from your phone as you mumbled about being married, shoving your ring in the direction of the person who was bothering you, before hearing the smug, soft chuckle you knew all too well, looking up, completely flustered. 

“What a lucky guy, huh?” Satoru said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip, eyes scanning you over. He looked mesmerized, almost entranced as you rolled your eyes, groaning as you started to get up to leave. You’d just survive the car ride home and be fine, like usual. But tears made your vision blur up as you let out a choked sob, falling into his chest. You didn’t care about getting makeup on his uniform, you just wanted to cry and yell at him. He was standing there, trying to joke with you, but all you wanted to do was scream about how ugly and unloved you felt. 

You were too drunk to remember being softly led out of the club as you sobbed quietly, only sobering up enough to be coherent and sentient when your husband was siting on the sidewalk with you, having you gathered up in his arms while you let out your last soft sob of anger and desperation. He just sighed softly, pushing your hair out of your face to press a kiss to your forehead. You turned your head away, against your own will, to try and remain pissed at him. He had to suffer the consequences of his own shit actions. He rubbed shapes into your back for a couple minutes, before finally speaking up.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He started, looking into the pavement of the road to avoid your teary-eyed gaze, guilt evident on his face as he continued. “I’m just.. scared I’m going to be the reason you get hurt. And, and I know - don’t give me that.” He said with a stifled laugh as you flared at him, knowing you’d reassured him you didn’t care since the day your met him. “But it’s different now. With Itadori having consumed Sukuna’s finger, there’s… a possibility that he’ll properly manifest. And.. if that does end up happening, I’ll be one of the first in the line of fire. And that means using you as.. bait, kidnapping you for money, whatever I just…” his breath catches in his throat before he can continue. You lean into him closely, head on his chest. His heartbeat is audible through his chest, and he swallows thickly before he starts speaking again. It’s rare you see your husband in a vulnerable state like this. 

“… I started having these.. awfully vivid dreams of you. In the position Suguru was, or.. even worse. I thought if I started being.. distant, or cold, you’d lose interest, even if it would break my heart and kill me from the inside out. If it meant you were safe.. I was ready to go through heartbreak again and again, I think.” He ends his sentence with his eyes locked on yours, and all you can do is sit in silence for a second, the ambience of the street outside the club being the only sound ringing in your ears. The bass of the music from the club, the cars driving past, people having small talk over cigarettes just a few feet away from you two. 

Your next move is to grab him by the neck of his uniform and drag your husband’s stupid, self-sacrificing lips to yours in a kiss you had missed feeling every single day you were without it. He was hesitant at first, the alcohol on your tongue, the mixed emotions still swirling in his head - but it quickly turned to a the hunger that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, lips crashing messily against yours before you finally pulled back to speak, leaving him flustered as he looked down at you, his breathing a little unsteady. 

“I knew the risk of being.. well, even just seen with you, since I first met you. And I wouldn’t have married you, not to mention.. dated you, or fallen in love with you, if I wasn’t accepting of those risks. I would die a thousand times over to whoever’s hands if it meant another day of waking up next to you.” The words fell from your mouth like word vomit, ramble and quick, barely audible sounds that he somehow managed to keep up with, even with your hiccup in-between the syllables. He just nodded softly, pulling you even more snug into him, resting his head on yours with a satisfied sigh. 

“I know. I’m sorry you fell in love with me.” He mumbled finally, a genuinely, tired, apologetic tone as he spoke slowly, holding onto you like you could fall out of his grasp at any second. 

“I’m not sorry I fell in love with you.” You said after another moment of pause. The warm, comforting feeling of being in your husbands arms filled your stomach, and you let your eyelids close, knowing that your husband would carry your sleepy body back to the car, or through hell and back, if he had to. 

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Thirteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky goes on a date; Jake and Ducky come to an understanding, before everything becomes complicated again

WC: 2.4K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

It happened when you least expected it. You were at the grocery store, reaching for the top shelf, when a hand appeared from behind, plucking the jar of salsa you had been wiggling your fingers at. 

You turned, looking up at an insanely gorgeous guy. He was tall, but not too tall, still under six foot, with a sleeve of tattoos and a layer of dark stubble over his cut jawline. He grinned, handing you the salsa jar. “Here you go, sweetheart.” 

You smiled, placing it in your cart. Salsa Guy kept his eyes on you, just the two of you in the aisle alone close to nine o’clock at night. “Thank you.” 

He looked down at your cart. Chips and salsa, a pack of Twizzlers, a container of stuffed olives, a bar of white chocolate, three apples, a pack of ginger beer. “Someone has a good night planned,” he said with a grin. 

“Oh, you know, cravings.” It came out automatically. But once you realized, you looked up and gulped. Here was a cute guy who had probably been hitting on you, and had failed to see the enormous baby bump hidden behind the handles of the cart.

His dark brown eyes gave you a quick once over. At twenty two weeks, you were pregnant. It was obvious by now. No matter how flowy the dress, there was a little bump there. Your fingertips gripped the cart handlebar tighter. 

“Sorry, I, uh, should get going.” You were just about to turn the cart around when his voice stopped you.

“How about you let me take you out for a real meal.” You looked up in surprise. He shrugged. “Unless you’re involved?” 

“Um, no, I—” You faltered. 

He tilted his head. “No to dinner,” he said slowly, “or no you’re not involved with anyone?” 

You straightened. “No, I’m not involved.” 

He held out a business card. Phillip Walker. You cocked your head to the side. Attorney. Since when did attorneys have sleeve tattoos? “Can I ask your name, before we go to dinner?” 

You smiled. “Y/N.” 

“Let me get that for you,” he said, steering the cart down the aisle. 

“Wait, you were serious?” you asked. “You want to go to dinner now?” It was almost nine thirty. Your bedtime. 

Phillip nodded. “I would.” 

You paused at the end of the aisle before the rows of cashiers. “Um, Phillip?” 

“Yes?” 

“You know I’m pregnant, right?” 

He laughed. It was low and rumbling. He nodded. “Yes, doll, I can see that.” 

“Is this some kind of kink thing?” you whispered. 

His eyes went wide. “No?” 

You frowned. “Alright. Well, free dinner, I guess I’d have to be insane to say no.” 

Phillip grinned. “Your pick then.” 

“I know just the place.” 

You and Phillip ended up eating tacos from a food truck near the beach, sitting with your feet hanging off the side of a picnic table as the waves crashed against the shore in the darkness. Phillip was funny, a dry humor that caught you off guard at first. He was an immigration attorney, just turned twenty seven, and his mother was born in Venezuela. 

After you finished your final taco, four in total but who was counting, Phillip turned to you. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” 

“The guy,” he said. “Is he in the picture?” 

Phillip was the first person you had really talked to, let alone gone out with, since everything that had happened with Jake. You weren’t sure what to say. He was your roommate? Your friend? Your brother’s coworker? 

Was he anything? 

Sometimes it felt like Jake was a stranger. And other times it felt like he was the only thing you had. And yet, you still didn’t know what to say about him. 

“We’re not involved,” you replied after a moment. “But we’re friendly.” You paused. “He and my brother work together.” 

“Ah. Sounds complicated.” 

“I am a complicated woman.” 

“Who also likes white chocolate and nacho flavored Doritos.” 

“Everyone likes Doritos!” 

“Cool Ranch forever,” he replied and you tipped your head back in a laugh. Phillip leaned over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.” 

“Thank you.” It was a whisper. Suddenly the sound of the sea, the waves crashing loudly against the shore, was dulled by the sound of your heart beating in your chest. 

“I’d like to kiss you,” Phillip whispered, one of his hands pressed against the table behind your seat, the other still lingering against your jaw. 

“I probably taste like tacos.” 

“You’re in luck,” he murmured, “cause I love tacos.” 

And then his lips were on yours. He was a good kisser – firm, but not hard, no tongue at first, and he smelled like a woodsy cologne that transported your mind to a lush forest. For a moment, you felt yourself melt into the kiss. There was something so lustful about being wanted. 

It wasn’t until after, when Phillip pulled back and your eyes fluttered open, that the heart sinking realization kicked in. 

Was this the last time someone was going to kiss you like this? With expectation, with the unknown hanging out in the abyss. Soon, you’d be a mother. Soon, you’d belong to someone else. And nothing would ever be as easy as it was in that very moment. 

“I’m tired,” you whispered. “I should be getting home.” 

“Of course.” Phillip leaned back, stepping off the picnic table and holding out his hand. “I can drive you home in your car, and I’ll get an Uber back to mine.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “That’s a hassle.” 

“I’m sure.” He held open the door and you took a seat in the passenger seat. It felt like a different world, just ten inches from where you usually sat. You turned as Phillip slid into the driver’s seat. 

Everything felt different. 

He set down the bag of groceries next to the door and straightened. “I’m really glad I went to the store for toothpaste tonight,” Phillip said. 

You frowned. “Did you forget to buy the toothpaste?” 

He nodded and you laughed. “Yes, yes I did.” 

“I’m glad we met, too.” 

“Can I see you again?” he asked. 

“Are you sure you want to?” 

“I’m positive.” 

“Here.” You pulled out a pen and scribbled your number on his card, handing it back to him. “Call me.” 

“I will.” He waited until you had opened the door to the apartment before turning and walking down the hallway. 

You set the bag of groceries on the counter before a voice behind you burst out into the silence. “Who was that?” 

You whipped around. Jake was wearing a Naval Academy sweatshirt and a pair of boxers, tall socks pulled up around his bony ankles. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It’s midnight, Y/N. Where have you been?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not my father.” 

“Someone has to be looking out for you.” 

“You and Bobby, you’re the fucking same,” you spat back. 

Jake squinted. “Is that how you see me?” he asked. 

“Right now, yeah, it is.” You shook your head and started to unload the groceries. “Just some guy I met at the grocery store. He helped me reach the salsa.” 

“You left three hours ago.” 

“Jake, it’s late.” You turned, one hand on your hip. In the bright light of the kitchen, you had a sudden glimpse of the future. Standing in a kitchen, rolling your eyes at your husband. But then you blinked, and it was just Jake, standing in front of you in a pair of almost too-tight boxers. “Ask the real questions you want answers to.” 

“Did you fuck him?” 

“Did you fuck the redhead from the bar?” you spat back. 

Jake went ghost white. 

“I said ask questions you want the answers to,” you replied. “And for your information, no, I didn’t whore it out for a bottle of salsa in the back of a pickup truck. That kind of naiveté ended about five months ago.” You pressed one hand against your tight stomach and rubbed a gentle circle. “What do we owe each other, Jake?” 

He stepped closer. “I know you don’t want to be with me,” he whispered. “And maybe you don’t really even like me. But we’re stuck together, Y/N. For better or for worse, we’re having a baby together. So I guess what I’m saying is we owe each other the truth.” 

“You want the truth?” you asked. He nodded. “The truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore. Because in four plus months, I’m going to be a mom. And that scares the shit out of me.” 

“I’m here,” Jake said. “I’m going to help. You’re not alone in this.” 

“How can I trust you when I don’t even know you?” 

“Well you haven’t really tried, now have you?” A bit of his Texan accent slipped out. It was small but it was there. A twang at the end of the sentence. 

“You’re right.” 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.” He grinned. 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“I’m trying here,” Jake said. “I want to do what’s best for you. And for the baby.” 

“What about what’s best for you?” 

He shrugged. “What’s best for you is best for me. Happy wife, happy life, right?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not your wife, Hangman.” 

“Do me a favor.” 

“I’m carrying your enormous child, and you want another favor?” 

“Don’t call me Hangman, OK?” 

You frowned. “Alright, I won’t.” 

“I can be Hangman at work. But with you, I want to be Jake.” 

“OK.” A silence enveloped the room and for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease with Jake. “Well, Jake, I’m going to go to bed. I’m exhausted.” 

You shuffled off to the side of the kitchen toward the bedrooms. Jake’s hand reached out, fingertips curling around your wrist. You looked up. “I didn’t get to tell you before, so I’ll tell you now. I’m really happy it’s a girl.” 

You smiled. “Yeah, me too. Little boys' clothes suck.” 

Jake grinned. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Goodnight, Jake.” 

***

Jake was sixteen the first time he held his niece in his arms. His older sister Mary had gotten married young, and immediately had a baby. 

Kirsten was tiny, shriveled little fingertips, a nose that barely protruded from her face, almost no hair to speak of. 

And yet, something changed in that moment. He felt his world flip upside down. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to hold someone’s life in his hand and know that he would lay down his life for that person. 

Kirsten was thirteen now. At age eight, she asked Jake to be her show and tell item for school, and he took off a long weekend to go back to Texas to tell her class what it was like to be an aviator. And even though all that time had passed and she had grown up, sometimes Jake still looked at her and saw the newborn balanced perfectly in his scrawny arms. 

***

Your second date with Patrick created even more mixed emotions. 

On one hand, he was beautiful and successful, dynamic and smart. On the other hand, you still had a lump in the back of your throat that some random man would want to date a pregnant woman. 

“It’s weird, right?” you said. Phoenix paused for a beat and you frowned, your fingertips gripping the steering wheel tighter. You had opted to drive yourself home from the restaurant, giving Patrick a kiss before he asked that you texted him when you got home. 

“It’s a little weird,” she replied, her voice crackling through the car speakerphone. “But not unheard of.” 

“It’s a porn category,” you argued. 

She laughed. “OK but so is girl on girl. Doesn’t make it a fetish. He might just genuinely be a good enough guy to be OK with it.” 

You flicked the turn signal, waiting for the light to turn green before taking a left into the apartment complex parking lot and switching the call back to your phone. “I guess,” you said. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, locking the car and stepping into the lobby. “It’s just kind of weird. Everything is weird right now.” 

“It’s uncharted territory,” Phoenix said. “Just take a shower, get in your pajamas and watch Young Sheldon.” 

“God, a perfect night,” you said. “Alright, I’m home. I’ll see you tomorrow for the party?” Coyote was having a house party for his new condo, and you and Phoenix had made plans to go. 

“I’ll pick you up at nine.” She hung up as you opened the apartment door. 

It was quiet, but there was a light on in the hallway. “Jake?” you called out, setting your purse down. “Are you home?” 

“In here!” You rounded the corner into your bedroom. Jake looked up. “Surprise.” 

You gasped. A brand new white crib sat in the corner, the one you had gawked at in a Pottery Barn catalog and then promptly flipped the page when you spotted the price tag. There was also the matching dresser, with a changing table on top. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

Jake stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Sorry, just finished building it, still have to clean up.” 

“You did all of this?” 

“Well we needed a crib. Oh and look.” He stepped over to the dresser and pulled open the first drawer to reveal a perfect line of folded onesies. “My mom sent them. Look at this one.” He tugged one out and held it up. 

It was a Naval Academy onesie. 

Jake grinned. “Great, right?” 

“I can’t believe you did this,” you whispered. 

“No big deal. Besides, we needed a nursery. Maybe once we move into a house we’ll have a spare bedroom, and—”

You held up one hand. “A house? Since when are we moving into a house?” 

Jake looked around slowly. “I mean, it’s just the next step, right? This apartment is OK for now, but when the baby gets here it’s going to get crowded.” 

You crossed your hands over your chest. “I thought this was temporary,” you replied. “I needed a place to stay to get away from Bobby. But this.” You swooped your hand out toward the crib and dresser. “This is feeling very real.” Your pulse started to race. 

Jake frowned. “What are you saying?” he asked. “You don’t want to continue to live together once the baby is born?” 

“I don’t know.” 

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[imthebadguyyy]

Arms

pairing : sirius black x reader

fandom : marauders/hp

synopsis : sirius realizes there's no place that feels more like home than your arms.

warnings : self depreciating thoughts, insecurity

a/n : felt like wandering into the realm of the marauders! do let me know if you want more :) inspired mildly by francesca by Hozier

sirius sat with james, while remus and peter sat across from them, both pouring liberal amounts of gravy onto their plates. james was also digging into an obnoxiously large amount of roast potatoes and chicken, barely pausing for a breath as he scarfed down the food.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the great hall was not buzzing with the sound of students chattering as it usually did, and the sound remained at the decibel of a small hive of bees, while the professors murmured softly at the grand table, the munch of the many treats laid on the table for the christmas eve dinner.

sirius himself didn't feel that hungry, fork half heartedly poking at the beans on his plate. his eyes roamed around the hall, taking in the tiny mass of people at the other tables, and at dumbledore pulling mice out of his purple witches hat - his christmas special.

that very morning, his owl had dropped off a rather nasty howler from his darling mother, once again choosing to call him a colourful variety of insults and ending with her usual "disgrace and traitor to the black boodline" bullshit, followed by a chorus of "mixing with mudbloods and muggles" that had him clenching his fists in frustration.

then, his father orion had also decided to grace him with a scathing letter he burned the moment he received, but not before catching the words "shame to my bloodline", which once again had him sighing and rubbing the sore spot on his temples.

he had ignored it initially, focusing instead on the beautiful hand knitted scarf, golden watch and basket of sweets and treats he had received from euphemia and fleamont, with a small engraved gryffindor lion at the back of the watch.

he had also received a leather jacket from you, and homemade strawberry pies that you had made with help from the elves in the kitchen, and a set of silver rings to go with his pre existing ones.

remus had gifted him a muggle record called rumors from a band called Fleetwood Mac, that you had freaked out over and told him you'd listen to together because they were your favourite band ever and you'd be damned if he discovered your favourites on the album without you.

james himself had bought him bundles full off tricks and games from hogsmeade, and a framed picture of the marauders, along with a small replica of his own quidditch jersey because, "everyone has to know you're my number one fan pads!"

even marlene had gifted him a bunch of chocolate frogs, and mary had got him a postcard from venezuela and chocolate because her parents were visiting. lily had sent him muggle posters of his favorite bands as well.

but despite the merriment, the niggling insecurity of not being enough played on his mind the whole time, creeping like a shadow, insecurity slithering through the corridors of his mind, casting doubts where there once was light.

his mind was spiralling, as he looked at his plate, gulping as a sudden lump appeared in his throat. james was reading a letter from his mum to remus and peter, telling him about their travels in egypt, and peters mum had sent sweets for them to share at dinner.

oh how he longed for a mom who would write him sweet letters and send him sugary treats instead of venom coated words and flame bursting letters, a father who would teach him how to tie his tie properly for class, or tell him tales of his childhood.

sirius longed for a family to love and hold him always. and the closest he had to that was you and james.

as his thoughts turned to you, he was distracted by a sudden crash as the doors were flung open, as you rushed in, followed by the two friends with whom you sang as part of the hogwarts band, your red robes flaring as you rushed to find your spot beside him at the table.

with a pant, you flung yourself down, taking heaving breaths to calm your racing heart.

"well hello little miss" james said through a mouthful of peas, making you scrunch your nose in disapproval. "where were ya?" remus asked, piling on food onto your plate before it changed course.

"i was at band practice! we just lost track of time and then had to rush because we were so hungry!" you exclaimed, while your hands reached for sirius' under the table, taking his cold palm in yours, squeezing it tenderly to get the blood flow back in them, bringing it up for a quick peck to the knuckles before interlacing his fingers with yours.

sirius felt his heart physically slow down as he watched you, laughing a joke remus made, poking fun at james and messing around with peter. he watched as you cut the roasted potatoes into smaller chunks, dipping them in extra butter as you popped them into your mouth, and the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled.

he watched the way your hair fell, little strands framing your face as you brushed them off impatiently, all while leaning forward for a slice of a chocolate tart and icecream that had just appeared.

he watched as you put a slice of apple pie on his plate, topping it with a healthy dollop of cream, and passing it to him with a saccharine sweet smile and a murmur of "your favourite siri!" and he felt his heart flutter again.

what he didn't note was the crease in your eyebrow as you looked at your friend, the darl circles under his eyes, the slight stoop to his posture, the way his smile came out forced, lips pressed tight together with none of his gorgeous smile lines appearing around his eyes and lips.

he failed to note the way you drew a sharp breath when you felt the rough skin of his palms, coarse from all the times he dug his nails into the delicate skin to control the rage and hurt he felt at his family. the way your eyes softened as you looked at him, the way his lack of obnoxiously lewd jokes and quick wit made him look so vulnerable that it shattered your heart into a million pieces.

after the crackers were pulled and you had packed up a "grow your own warts" kit and many a butterbeer flavoured candy and a few white mice, he squeezed your hand again, gesturing towards the gryffindor common room, leaving the boys chatting with a few members of the ravenclaw quidditch team who had stayed back for christmas as well.

murmuring the password to the fat lady, you stumbled into the common room with sirius, who had his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you sunk into your favourite armchair, and giggled when sirius fell into you with a muffled "thump"

even though you were 'just friends', you knew him better than anyone else and he knew it as well as you did.

the cozy red armchair with its plush cushioning looked as inviting as ever as he settled into it, legs haphazardly tossed over yours. affection was a major part of your relationship with sirius, having become fast friends since the first year at hogwarts.

ever since you were joint at the hip, bonding over a shared love of music, shared comfort in silence, shared trauma and a love for leather. you were as much a part of the marauders as any of the other boys, and sirius couldn't quite point to the time when you had become such fast friends.

he buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, absorbing the lilting notes of vanilla and shea, and fiddling with the loose strands of hair at the base of your neck. you hummed softly, some melody that had been playing on your mind, hands gently running through his dark locks, nails scratching softly at his scalp.

"you okay?" you asked, noting the tenseness of his shoulder muscles, and the still present frown between his eyebrows.

a non commital shrug was the only response.

worry began to seep into your mind, surprised at how your usually bubbly bestfriend was decidedly unbubbly.

"you don't seem okay babe" you stated, lifting his chin so he was looking at you.

his stormy gray eyes reflected doubt and insecurity dancing like lightning, casting shadows of uncertainty that loomed deep in his mind.

to your surprise, tears welled up in his eyes, mirroring raindrops, poignant with a tempest of emotions swirling within, creating a tumultuous scene of vulnerability and insecurity.

"oh sweetheart.." you cooed softly, shuffling so he was engulfed in your arms. you felt him bury his face deeper into your neck, clinging to you desperately as if he was worried you'd disappear into thin air.

"talk to me honey" you whispered, trying to coax him out of his hiding place.

just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door to the common room swung open and remus james and peter trooped in, followed by a few other gryffindors.

they stopped short, taking in the scene before them, their best mate in tears in the arms of the girl he loved who happened to be his best friend.

"mate are you-" james began, only to be cut off by a glare from remus.

"who don't you go up to our dorm y/n? I'll make sure no one goes up" remus said, staring at your pointedly, offering a soft smile to you when you nodded.

"i think we'll take you up on the offer, is that okay with you siri?" you asked, still softly stroking his hair.

he nodded against you, and followed you silently as you took his hand in yours and draped an arm around his torso, pressing a kiss to his temple as you led him up the winding staircase to the boys dormitory.

as soon as you were inside, you led him over to his bed, gently pushing him down so he was sitting, eyes looking unseeingly at the posters and polaroids that graced his headboard.

with worried eyes, you watched his gaze flicker back and forth, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over.

"talk to me siri, im right here" you cooed, kneeling down in front of him, hands resting on his knees, drawing tiny circles with your pinky over the material of his robes.

"are you here with me love?" you asked, watching the black in his pupils darken as he spaced out. you watched as he jolted a little, looking at you almost alarmed, before the tears began to drip down his cheeks.

the first drop had you sprinting into his arms, wrapping your own tightly around him, kicking your shoes off as you squeezed him tight, knees resting in between his own, as he sobbed into your chest.

you'd seen him cry before, but never like this. broken sobs spilled from his salty lips, dampening the material of your robes, and small choked sounds escaped his lips, along with deep strangled breaths as he gripped your waist to keep himself grounded.

he cried for what seemed like hours while you whispered sweet reassurances to him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and his hands, placing his hand on your chest to feel the steady beating of your heart.

"m' right here darling, let it all go, I've got you, i promise, I'll be right here to hold you honey" you whispered to him, rocking him back and forth like a child.

sirius gripped you even tighter, clinging to you as if you were his lifeline.

eventually, his sobs slowed,and he pulled back, eyes red and swollen and face glistening with tears. even when his hair was messy and he looked like a wreck, he looked ethereal.

"oh my beautiful boy" you said, kissing the top of his head. "tell me what you need" you said, interlacing your hands.

"you, just need you" he said, and the way his broke on the word 'you' shattered your heart into a million pieces.

"just give me one second darling, okay?" you said, walking into their bathroom and taking out a clean handkerchief from your pocket. you soaked it in some water, bringing it back to him, gently wiping his eyes and then his face with it, leaving kisses on every spot you cleaned for him, before taking a comb from his nightstand and slowly untangling the mess that his hair was.

sirius watched as you combed his hair, eyebrows furrowed in attention, and he swore his heart fell even more for you.

"d'ya think you can tell me what's wrong sugar?" you asked, biting you lip when he flashed you a smile at the nickname.

"yeah" he nodded, tugging you down so you were cuddled into his side. "oh wait!" you exclaimed, fishing some chocolate out your pocket and offering a piece.

he took it with a smile, letting it melt on his tongue as he looked at you.

you were now snuggled into his shoulder, your ankle intertwined with his as you lay across from him, hand gently holding his, as his other hand traced patterns on your hip.

"darling mother of mine sent me a howler this morning for a christmas present" he said with a dry chuckle.

"did she now?" you said, anger simmering deep in your bones. "yeah, and then sperm donator sent me a lovely letter as well" he said, chuckling a little at his own nickname for his father.

"mmhmm" you said, tracing his thumb.

"yeah, jus' caught me off guard" he mumbled

"you do know that whatever they say is not true, right?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"yeah but- fuck, darling, it gets hard sometimes. sometimes I feel like I am a traitor and failure. sometimes i feel like I'm not worthy of being a human, I'm not worthy of being a friend, I'm not worthy of being loved i-" he broke off, looking at the ceiling.

"you are more than just a name, sirius. you are worthy of being loved. you are worthy of being human, and you are worthy enough to have friends who care about you" you said firmly, forcing him to look back at you.

"it just hurts me sometimes" he admitted

"i know sweetheart" you cooed again. you felt like no words you said were enough when it came to this topic.

"am i really worthy of being loved?" he asked suddenly, turning his face to look at you.

"of course" you said. the silence got louder for a moment. "siri?" you asked, voice lighter than honeycomb.

"theres something Ive been wanting to tell you" he got out in a rush. "ever since we met on the train on our way here, from the tender age of eleven, my heart silently declared its allegiance to you. each passing day has been a testament to a love that started as a whisper and has grown into a resounding echo in my soul. darling, with every sunrise and every moonlit night, my affection for you deepens, as if there's an infinite well within me, filling with the boundless affection i hold for you. you are the constant melody in the symphony of my existence, and i fall harder for you with each beat of my heart" he said, turning to look at you.

you felt tears welling in your own eyes, and it only felt right when you leaned forward, pressing your soft lips to his slightly chapped ones.

to him, you tasted of strawberries and cocoa, warm and sweet and oh so extravagant, a taste so luxurious he couldn't get enough of it.

to you, he tasted of cigarette smoke, mint and cocoa, an intoxicating taste you couldn't get enough of

his lips pressed deeper against yours, hand grasping your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him, as he poured all his love and passion out for you.

time stopped, the world slowed and your heartbeat dropped to the lowest of lows. relaxed. calm. loved.

finally, when your lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, you drew away, chests heaving as you looked at each other.

a slight flush lay on his cheeks, tinges of red littering his cheekbones. you could feel a heat thrumming in your own cheeks, and your heart felt like it was racing a million miles an hour.

"i don't know how long I've waited to say that to you" he breathed out, nuzzling his nose to yours.

"since our shared days at eleven, my heart has been a clandestine haven for the enchantment you brought into my life. you don't know how happy you made me with this. in the quiet dance of our days, my affection for you has blossomed into a resplendent garden, and with every sunrise, I find myself immersed deeper in the captivating allure of our love. you are the symphony that resonates in my heart, and i cherish you always" you told him, pressing a kiss to the swell of his cheekbone.

sirius felt his cheeks burn a deep red, and he tilted your lips up to press a searing kiss to them again.

"i love you" he gasped against your lips, drawing you closer to him.

"i love you too" you murmured against his lips moulding your body to him.

and as sirius lay there in your arms, pressing kisses as sweer and delicate as spun sugar against every part of your body but especially your lips, he realised there was no other place that felt more like home than your arms.

you.

you were his home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! marauders is a new field for me but if u have any reqs/ideas please do send in asks! happy reading ☺️♥️

TAGS

general : @roslastyles420 @hopeful in love @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

[mourntomidnight]

YOURE NOT AMERICAN AUSTRALIAN CANADIAN NEW ZEALANDER ISRAELI “HISPANIC/LATINO”!!!!!!

YOURE SETTLERS AND SETTLERS OF COLOR DESCENDED FROM COLONIZERS LIVING ON STOLEN LAND NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU OR YOUR EUROCUCK COUSINS WANT TO DENY IT!!!!!!!!!!!

[manicrouge]

TASK FORCE: STALKER

Chapter One: Last Woman On Earth

(Keegan x F!Reader)

Word count: 8.5k

About: After an operation in which the Alpha Team has been instructed to distract the Federation troops goes wrong, Alpha 4 finds herself stranded in Caracas, Venezuela. U.S. The city floods and while seeking refuge, she runs into one of the members of Task Force: Stalker. 

TWs: Canon-typical violence, drowning, brief mention of religion, gore, blood, violence, mayhaps some typos here and there too

Note: This story follow the campaign of Cod: Ghosts. If you would like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment :D

‘Alpha team offloads here as discussed.’ 

A voice ringed in your headset as the helicopter slowly lowered. Staring past the head of one of the Bravo team, you spied the shrubbery of the Forest bending around the spinning propellors of the helicopter, raising to your feet as the door slowly opened. Holding your rifle close to you, you offered a short nod to every man you passed on your way out. 

Your boots hit the dirt, a stick snapping beneath your foot. The nerves you felt during your first deployment were lost to the world as soon as the stench of gun powder graced your nostrils. There’s no time to be nervous, you thought back to the words your father spoke while telling stories of his time in battle. He’d hold your dolls, speak with gruff voices as he reenacted stories you had begged to hear. Pulling up the arm of Cinderella, he’d state firmly,  you’re in the deep end now, soldier. To which, in your youth, you’d giggle and clap your hands to. Those words were akin to a Bible verse to you, something you repeated in your head, even when your squad leader was barking orders. It was an essential mission, you’d been briefed more times than you cared to consider which only ever meant one thing: do not fuck this up. 

‘Keep up, yeah?’ a voice said from beside you. 

You turned your head, spying Parker. A man who was in his late twenties, a tad bit older than you were. You'd often referred to him as your older brother, the others in your squad typically addressing the pair of you as siblings.

‘You should listen to your own advice,’ you retorted with a grin.

You set off on foot. Parker walked alongside you as the pair of you walked just behind the rest of the squad. In total, you counted ten men, then yourself and Parker. The noise of chatter was close. You were in the enemy land for sure, listening to the contempt in their voices, you felt adrenaline wash over you as you bent your knees, slowly stalking with the rest of your squad. 

‘Razor-1, all Alpha deployed. Moving to secondary HLZ.’ 

The sputtering of the choppers propellers left you staring in the air, peering through the trees as you watched as the black mass rose into the air, heading further into the District. Your eyes followed the helicopter as you headed further into the greenery, your eyes head not daring to dip. Something in you was aching at the sight of it growing further. The only sound, aside from the distant calls of the enemy, were the short breaths of the soldiers around you, alongside the creeping footsteps as you edge closer and closer. 

‘All Stations — Razor-1 is bracketed. We’re getting hit!’

You looked up, and the cries of the enemy just before you grow louder. And still, you persisted. You weren’t the one under fire, so why would you stop? You watch in the day time sky, witnessing the grey smoke billowing from the missiles fired, heading right for the helicopter, and still, you persist on your operation. 

‘Shit, that was a close one,’ Parker laughed to the right of you. 

Your eyes are still stuck on the helicopter, your lungs aching as you refused to breathe. Another missile was sent into the sky. The radio was muddled, however, the system managed to pick up a disgruntled string of curses before the announcement came. 

‘Razor-1— w- we’re going down!’ 

The sky was then painted with oranges and reds as a whirring filled the emptiness of nature. The helicopter expelled bouts of black smoke as it twisted and turned, falling out of the sky like a dead bird. It dropped graceless, unable to keep itself from its doom. 

‘Hold up,’ said your lieutenant, holding his hand up. 

You stopped, as did the rest of the men surrounding you. A shaky breath escaped you as the crash rumbled the ground you stood on, fire engulfing the wreckage while you stood, the breeze blowing through your hair. A part of you was selfishly thankful that your name had been absent from their list; their fate was far from appealing — and at that point, you didn’t even know if they were dead.

‘Bravo, how copy?’ your lieutenant whispered as you crouched behind him, stray sticks and rocks digging into your knees. You and Parker shared a look as the radio remained silent. ‘Bravo, what’s your status…?’ 

‘Alpha — Bravo compromised. Multiple wounded!’ 

Your grip on your gun tightened. 

‘We’re taking effective fire!’ 

‘Bravo, we’re advancing on the first camp, hold tight,’ called you lieutenant, briefly looking over his shoulder, before pressing onwards.

No one questioned his authority, and even though you couldn’t quite get the image of the helicopter falling out of your mind (the flames of which had seared into you retinas), when you hit the camp the first thing you did is bring your sight to your eye, marking the head of an enemy immediately. He was much too busy to see you, and when your lieutenant fired the first shot, you wasted no time in pulling your own trigger. 

Blood sprayed against the front of the tent the man was standing in front of, his limp body falling into the green canvas. It barely held his weight as his brains poured from the exit would at the back of his head, filling the dip like a swell of rain water would have. It took a few moments for the men standing beside him to react, as they simply stood and blinked at the carnage you had brought with the squeeze of a trigger. Screams exited the mouths of the troops, and you watched as they whipped their heads from side to side in an attempt to find where the bullets were coming from. Waving their guns in the air, you maintained your calmness in the midst of the calamity, not daring to break, even when you and one of the men standing beside the corpse locked eyes. 

From that moment, bullets reigned down hell and you intended to walk out alive. 

Advancing on the war zone was always done with caution and you did so gradually, shooting with key precision. Any missed shot was disregarded in the blink of an eye; you could recover steadily with as little as a hitch in your breath. You continued alongside a handful of your team, whilst the read of them went to the right hand side. The burning of fuel filled your nose, and when you peaked from behind the truck you were crouched behind, you caught sight of a thick cloud of smoke travelling upwards into the sky. 

‘Adams, Jones, flank left,’ demanded your lieutenant, before turning to you, ‘missy, you’re with me. We kill and we get to the Bravo team,’ he stated firmly.

‘Yes sir,’ you nodded, following behind him. You kept your scope upwards in the search for anyone who may have had him in their sights. In the matter of seconds you had advanced, sitting before a crate of ammunition. You watched as he pulled out his magazine, checking his ammo, before snapping it back into his gun. Maintaining a stark look on his face, he sucked on his bottom lip, looking at you. 

‘You got enough?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you hummed, ‘have you?’ 

He chuckled, ‘of course I do, ‘haven’t missed a shot.’ 

You narrowed your eyes at his remark.

Whilst subtle, you were quite sure it was intended to be a jab. However, whatever offence you had quickly shattered when a hand snaked around the corner of the ammunition.

In the blink of an eye, the smug expression on the man’s face quickly fell as chunks of his brains and skull exploded, covering you.

The sound of the gunshot left your ears ringing, a spray of your superiors blood covering your face. A gargled gasp escaped your throat, and you blinked rapidly in an attempt to rid the redness from your eyes. The man fell limp on the ground beside you, the barrel of the gun that had just killed him now aimed at you. You looked death in the eye, snatching your gun and squeezing the trigger as you scrambled to get out of the way of the bullet. 

You landed on your back, the man you’d shot at falling to the ground. A dull ache radiated in your shoulder and you hissed, lifting a shaking hand to assess the damage. Your gloved fingers sank into a bullet wound and you let out a shattered huff.

This entire thing seemed like an ambush — none of the planning made sense in the slightest.

It was a death trap, you swore so under your breath as you pushed yourself up off of your back, a strained grunt escaping you as you did so. It was a pain unlike anything you had felt, and still, it was the least of your concern in that moment. Peaking around the box, you gulped at the sight of your dead superior, using your hand to wipe his blood off of your face. Behind were the feet was a Fed soldier, squirming where he laid, holding his stomach as he screamed out bloody murder.

Maintaining your cover, you pushed up keeping a tight hold on your gun as leaned over him, grabbing the pistol he had shot you with, attaching it to your belt before pressing the barrel of your gun against his chest, lifting your throbbing arm up to the radio attached to your chest. 

‘This is Alpha 4, Lieutenant Williams is KIA.’ 

The shakiness of your tone was embarrassing and when you let go of your radio, you winced as you waited for a response. There were more gunshots, more screaming, yet the radio was silent. 

‘Does anybody copy?’ you asked, looking around, pressing your back against the ammunition station. 

‘It’s a fuckin’ blood bath!’ A voice exclaimed, ‘A- Alpha 2, and 6 are KIA.’ 

‘Parker?’ you asked. 

‘We gotta retreat,’ firmly said the man, ‘fall back to the landing zone and call med evac. We can’t fight all of these, we’re down a full team and three of our own.’ 

Everything in you was insisting on listening to the man; that ultimately seemed like the right call and you supposed you couldn’t exactly turn to your lieutenant for answers. However, when you peaked once again and spied to the crash site, something inside you urged you to persevere. There were people who were injured and as you looked downwards, you swallowed the last of your cowardice and shook your head.

‘No,’ you said through your radio, ‘people are hurt — I’m not going to leave them.’ 

‘Are you fuckin’ stupid?’ he asked, ‘fall back. You will die.’ 

You plotted a bath before yourself. You could rush into the tree line and use the trunks as cover, sneak around the outside of the camp and just a little further to where the helicopter had went down. With the noise from behind you, you were more than sure you could make a break for it; there would be a brief intermission in the fighting and you could slip away without alerting a single soul; for all they knew you had been shot alongside your lieutenant.

‘No, I’m not leaving without trying,’ you said, letting go of the radio. 

Grabbing the dead man’s shoulder, you turned him so he was on his back, taking hold of the dog tag around his neck and yanking it. It snapped off and you shoved it in your pocket before turning your full attention to the tree line.

With your gun in hand, you took one last breath before pushing forward, scurrying away from the position. There were more yells, and had they caught onto the fact that you were rushing away, you were unsure. No bullets were fired in your direction, and you remained crouched, even when you made it back into the shrubbery. 

Smoke continued to float up into the sky, and with your gun close to your chest, you pushed on with your heartbeat ringing in your ears. A voice rattled through your radio, one you recognised to be Parker, however, you disregarded his scolding as you turned it off fully, not daring to compromise yourself. Gunshots from the main camp continued as you creeped further and further to the crash site, stopping just behind a tree trunk when you heard the crackle of flames and the creaking of metal. There was a weeping, followed by a few stray gunshots, but aside from that, the yelling was distant. 

Advancing upwards, you approached the helicopter, finding the entirety of the back to be missing, creating an opening which allowed you to rush into. ‘Bravo team, how copy?’ you called, looking around the wreckage. 

‘Well ain’t you a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes,’ a voice called, and when you lifted your head, you spied a man with his back up against the wall. ‘Where’s the rest of Alpha?’ 

‘Three KIA including Williams,’ you said, rushing up to the mans side, ‘you?’ 

‘All KIA from what I know,’ he said, using the butt of his gun to push himself up off the ground, ‘one wounded if you’re countin’ me.’ 

‘Alpha 7 called for us to fall back — call med evac to get us out of here; the entire things been a fucking shit show.’ 

‘I’ll say,’ said the man, ‘you get hit?’ 

‘Only my shoulder,’ you uttered, ‘I’ll live… can you walk?’ 

‘Just about,’ he hummed, watching as you approached him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. He leaned on you, however, you noted he was careful with ho much weight he put on you, as the pair of you hobbled to the entrance. It was quite the awkward journey counting that he was a few inches taller than you, luckily for him however, you never feigned in the face of a challenge. ‘Where’d he say he’s callin’ med evac?’ 

‘Original landing site.’ 

‘They won’t make it there,’ he said, ‘they know we’re here now, they’ll shoot that helo down just like the shot our one.’

Grabbing your radio, you tuned back into the channel. ‘Alpha 7, this is Alpha 4. All apart from one in Bravo have been KIA. How do you copy?’ 

‘Med evac is on the way, report back to the original landing site,’ Parker said, ‘we’ll recon here and then go further to get the fuck outta here.’ 

You turned to the man beside you. ’You think you’re gonna be able to make it there?’ 

‘Do I have a fuckin’ choice?’ he asked with a chuckle, ‘you’re basically askin’ if I wanna live or die, love.’

You rolled your eyes at his words. ‘We’ll keep to the outskirts of the camp. How much ammo you got?’ 

‘I’m low, about nine or ten more.’ 

‘Fuck,’ you sighed, ‘we’ll just have to keep a low profile.’ 

He hummed, ‘by the sounds of things they’re distracted enough for us to get around them.’ 

‘I hope so.’ 

Each step was agonising, and with the weight of the man on your shoulder, you found your arm was beginning to ache. At that point, the bullet wound in your shoulder had its own pulse and it was throbbing with a ferocious anger, leaving your eyes watering as the pair of you kept low and out of the way of the camp. Despite the burning in ever inch of your body, you refused to submit to the will of the enemy, and with each shout, you bowed your head further in the hopes to keep in the cover of the bushes around you. The man beside you was trying his best to keep quiet, gritting his teeth to stifle every single grunt that passed his lips. With an uneven ground, there was the occasional stumble which would result in the pair of you cursing under your breaths. 

‘Shit, sorry miss,’ grumbled the man, digging his blunt nails into the black sleeve of your shirt.

Biting back a hiss, you gulped back a curse. ‘I- It’s fine,’ you struggled out through gritted teeth in spite of the fact that you felt as though you were two steps away from collapsing. The wound in your arm was leaking, the blood pouring out of it soaking into your torn shit. It was sure to be a bitch when it eventually came to the removal of the bullet. Despite your doubts, gun fire was prolonged behind the pair of you, and the further you moved through enemy territory the more you found hope that more of your squad would make it out alive. 

‘Alpha 4?’ 

‘Parker?’ 

‘I got bad news,’ murmured the man through the radio, ‘radioed med evac and they said they can’t drop here; people know we’re here according to what’s been relayed to the team. If we want to evacuate, we have to push on into the city; apparently a task force is out there looking to assassinate General Almargo — we’ll get out with them.’ 

You paled at the news and both you and your new friend stopped in your tracks. 

‘Are you fuckin’ serious?’ 

‘Unfortunately,’ sighed the man, ‘it’s just me… no one else made it.’ 

‘Fuck,’ cursed the man beside you, looking at you, ‘miss, I can’t make it into the city with my fuckin’ leg, we’re five miles out.’ 

You gulped. ‘I have one of Bravo’s members, his leg is fucked—’

‘We meet up, rob a car and get the fuck out of here and meet up with the soldiers in the city. I’ll be in the roadside just North of the camp; there’s a road that will take us directly into the city.’ 

You kept your mouth shut in spite of your objections. ‘Okay,’ you said, ‘we’ll walk to the road but keep just in the clearing to make sure we’re not spotted.’ 

‘Roger that.’ 

The channel fell silent and you turned to the limping man beside you. ‘It’s the best we can do… I’m sorry.’ 

He sucked in a breath as though he was accepting something. ‘Not your fault, miss,’ he uttered, stumbling. The pair of you wobbled as a result of his misstep, a particularly loud crunch sounding. A strained whimper left his mouth as he fell forward, pulling you along with him. You attempted to catch your fall, turning to your side in the hopes of avoiding landing on your right shoulder. In spite of such, when you hit the ground, a pang of pain which caused goosebumps to form flooded the entirety of your body. Forcing your lips together, you rolled onto your back, immediately holding your arm, a trembling hand hovering over the wound. 

‘Fuck,’ you hissed, the world spinning momentarily. 

Much to you dismay, your fall was not as silent as you had hoped it to be as a whistle confirmed that the men who were hunting you almost heard it. Your pity party was brief as you pushed yourself off of the ground, staring down at the man who nursed his leg. It was only then that you truly assessed the damage done. His bone protruded from his skin, droplets of his blood leaking onto the dirt below the pair of you. 

‘We’ve gotta go,’ you willed, leaning over to grab hold of his wrist, ‘they know we’re here.’ 

‘I’m not going anywhere miss,’ he said through a groan, ‘I can’t walk in this.’ 

‘You can lean on me,’ you whispered, tugging on his arm all for him to raise his hand, prying your hand off him. ‘Come on.’ 

‘No,’ he huffed, dropping his hand to grab his dog tag from around his neck, pulling it off and holding his chain out to you, ‘take this and run.’ 

‘We can—’

‘No,’ he refuted harshly, lifting his head up as footsteps edged closer, ‘take this and get the fuck out of here.’ Pressing your lips together, you looked the man in the eyes. ‘You tried your hardest, but you can’t save everyone,’ he said, shaking the chain in his hand, ‘now take it and get out of here… for the both of us, yeah?’ 

With a sigh, you snatched his dog tag off of him, wasting little time as you swooped down, retrieving your gun from off of the ground. Your aching knees were thankful for the increase of pace and you didn’t care to look back at the certain slaughter of the man who had essentially given up his life for yours. Rather than tightening your hold on him, which you much rather would have, your hands clasped tightly around his chain as you proceeded North, uncaring for anything that might have stopped you in your tracks.

The entire thing was a disaster, so, when you eventually came across Parker hidden near the roadside, you couldn’t quite believe your luck. He’d grabbed your ankle as you were staggering, pulling you into him. Before you could yell out, he hushed you, his paw-like hand covering your mouth. 

‘Chill, it’s just me,’ he whispered. 

Despite knowing you were in safe hands, you drove your elbow into his stomach. His hold on you released immediately as he keeled over with a straight moan. 

‘Asshole,’ you exhaled breathlessly, turning to look at him, ‘you get hit?’ 

‘Not until this point,’ he struggled out, ‘you?’ 

‘Shoulder,’ you said, looking down at your arm, ‘hurts like fuck.’ 

‘I can imagine,’ he hummed, ‘where’s your friend?’ 

‘Didn’t make it,’ you said, your hands hovering over the pocket where you had safely tucked his dog tag away. ‘He had a broken leg, he gave up.’ 

‘Fuck,’ he cursed, ‘that entire thing was a shit show,’ he grumbled, ‘they said it would be easy… there were more than we were told.’ 

‘Tricks of the trade,’ you said, ‘how far are we from the city?’ 

‘Twenty five minutes,’ he said, ‘this road leads to the national park, but if we follow it south we’ll get to the city.’ 

‘Okay,’ you hummed, ‘any traffic in this area?’ 

‘Haven’t seen a car pass me and I’ve been here around twenty minutes — but best to keep out of the way, yeah?’ he asked, ‘how are you for ammo?’ 

‘Still got some.’ 

‘Good,’ he hummed, ‘c’mon, they’ll be gaining on us if we stay here for too long.’ 

The pair of you set off with a fierce hunger, not wanting to be captured by the enemy. Shifting to the other side of the road, you traversed through the dry forest, your hands shaking. Your eyes ached and your head throbbed as the pain in your shoulder worsened. Whilst anyone else would be fleeing from the city and turning around when they caught the sounds of gunshots, you found humour in the fact that the pair of you were charging into battle head on. Parker walked alongside you keeping an eager eye out, his gun poised and prepared to shoot. 

‘I can’t fuckin’ believe this,’ he huffed, ‘I got no fuckin’ intel — didn’t even know we were going in there to just die. Did you know about the other task force?’ 

‘No,’ you answered, ‘we were there to kill and find evidence; that’s what they told us at least.’ 

‘Yeah fuckin’ right,’ snorted the man, ‘more like sent us in there to die.’ 

You bowed your head, your face creasing. The dried blood of your lieutenant was sticky. ‘At least we’re still here,’ you mumbled. 

Parker chuckled, ‘of course we’re still here,’ he said, looking at you, ‘you really think we’d die like that? No; we know what we’re doing. When this task force sees us, they’re gonna be jumpin’ for fucking joy.’ 

You laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘Sure they are.’ 

‘They’ll sign the pair of us and we won’t have to deal with any of this bullshit.’ 

‘Or they’ll kill us on sight.’ 

‘I’d like to see them try,’ he snorted, ‘we’re gonna get there, help them execute that son of a bitch, and then ride out of here on a helicopter.’

‘Into the sunset?’ 

‘You bet,’ he hummed, ‘have a cocktail in hand too.’ 

Even though the pair of you were on the verge of a brutal death, you still had to quiet your laughter at his words. The images of what had happened moments prior were still very much present, and yet, you laughed. It was a strange feeling, for your head to be set alight with horrific images and to still be able to laugh about something ridiculous. Were you even still human for doing so? That, you were unsure of, although, you supposed morality meant nothing in this line of work.

After everything, the pair of you walked together as though you were two school friends walking home. With each step a second passed and you were conscious that the world still proceeded spinning, even though the hearts of many had stopped beating. It was a vindictive cycle — cruel, how everyone simply continued even when a life ended. You supposed, however, that you couldn’t address nature as a monster when you kept putting one foot in front of the other; you were just as bad as her. 

The city appeared on the horizon after what felt like an eternity, not helped by the dry humour of Parker. Much to your surprise, it seemed too easy to have found your way into the city and you raised your brows upwards as the pair of you rested against a wall of a house with shattered windows. It appeared to be a grounds keepers home, only, it was empty and the windows had been shattered. Inside, you spied graffiti across the breast of the living room wall, staining the yellow wallpaper. It was a shame to see such a quaint home in ruin. 

‘Alpha 7 to Home base. Myself and Alpha 4 have made it to the city, looking for exfil; both the rest of Alpha and Bravo are KIA.’ 

You stared at your feet, awaiting a response. ‘Alpha 7, this is home base. Task force Stalker are in the central area, exfil will be near the dam.’ 

‘Roger that,’ Parker said, allowing his hand to drop, ‘we should’ve robbed some of the uniforms from the dead troops; we’re gonna stick out.’ 

‘It’s either we get killed by them or our own men — which is worse?’ 

‘Both are bad,’ he said, ‘from where we are, we fifteen out from the dam,’ he said, pausing for a moment as gunshots echoed in the distance, ‘we’re probably going to walk into a battle.’ 

‘What’s one more?’ you asked, ‘we’re closer to getting home, that’s all that matters.’ 

He nodded his head at your words, ‘keep an eye out. If we see a guard, kill them quietly.’ 

You smiled. ‘Roger that.’ 

Without a word, the pair of you head through the city, ensuring to keep in the shadows in spite of every street the pair of you passed appearing to be that of a ghost town. War had most definitely destroyed the inners of the city; there was rubble in the streets and what were once family homes were shells of their former selves. It was a shame they met such a fate, an undeserved one and thankless all at the hands of corruption. You wondered if the families who lived there made it out alive or if they were forced into the military… or worse.

It was difficult to track the gunfire as with each street you walked past, the sound seemed to travel all the same. For all you knew, the pair of you could have been on the cusp on the battlefield and would have been none the wiser to it.

Either way, you were prepared.

You’d made it that far, you were not going to dare to fold at this point. You could hear yelling from the enemy, resonating off of the houses just like the gunfire did. 

‘You have any idea what they’re saying?’ you asked. 

‘Something about the dam,’ replied Parker. 

‘That’s where the task for is, right?’ 

‘Apparently so,’ he said, ‘whatever it is, it sounds like they’re panicking.’ 

You pursed your lips. ‘Maybe our guys are winning.’ 

The screeching of tires caught your attention and when a car whirled past the pair of you, Parker grabbed you by the forearm and pulled you into an alleyway. Only, there was no way the men in the car couldn’t have seen you, and yet, they didn’t stop. Instead, the sped away as though they were in a police chase, not caring for anything in their surroundings.

Your chest tightened when another car followed suit, and then another, and then another. The stench of burning rubber filled the streets and you watched each car speed past you. Something was not quite right and when you turned to face Parker, you found he felt the same. 

Opening your mouth, you went to question the strange behaviour all for the ground to rumble below the pair of you. Furrowing your brows, you held the wall behind you to steady yourself, all for another rumble to shake the ground again. What sounded like an explosion sounded, however, when you turned your eyes towards the sky, you found it was clear. 

‘What the fuck was that?’ you asked. 

‘It sounded like a bomb went off,’ he remarked, the pair of you moving away from the alleyway. ‘C’mon, we’ve gotta make it to the dam.’ 

Nodding your head, the pair of you cut through the alleyway, onto the main street. It was then you saw it. Very rarely were you surprised, the blood on the face was enough to prove that shock had very little effect on you. However, your burning legs were glued to the spot as your eyes widened at the sight before you.

A wave that must have been three stories was barely a mile out and it was charging with a vengeance with the intention of dragging you down for the life you took that day. A shaky sigh escaped you, and when you turned to Parker, you found the same horror on his face. Turning to look at the house behind you, you cursed under your breath finding that the apartments across the street would be much more suited; the buildings were taller. 

‘Parker, we gotta go,’ you said breathlessly, grabbing his wrist and pulling up. He awoke from his trance, breaking into a sprint. 

You chased after him, your hold on his wrist slipping as he marched forward. Your body was set alight, the last reserves of adrenaline you had within you powering you to make it to the door of the apartment block just as the water came crashing in. Parker was already half way up a flight of stairs, leaving you wading through waist high water which was only growing deeper and deeper. 

‘Parker!’ you yelled, holding your arms out to the side of yourself in an attempt to maintain balance. The current beneath the surface was reckless, pulling you side to side as you battled. No way in hell would you be able to swim your way out of this — especially not with a busted shoulder.

Gritting your teeth, you lunged forward, grabbing onto the bannister of the staircase, letting out a mangled cry as you pulled yourself upwards. Your right arm felt as though it was going to fall off, and the more pressure you put on yourself, the deeper the bullet lodged in your arm dug. A flash of hot pain seared as you continued to use the banister to keep yourself from sinking into the water.  

‘PARKER!’ You screamed, in the hopes of catching the mans attention. 

Your heart was thumping in your ears, your eyes were burning as the water grew higher and higher. Swallowing hard, you fought with all your might to break through the persistent current. It soaked your wound, pooling just above your chin. The sudden flush strained the muscles in your arm, your grip slipping. The building creaked and your arm was pulled behind your back. Blinded by your fury, you opened your mouth to scream the mans name once more, all for it to be a gargle as your hold on the bannister slipped completely and you were pulled into the water. 

The water was murky, hiding all enemies within it. 

You were subjected to travel with the current, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open in spite of how bad the stung. Looking around with each passing metre of water, you searched desperately for something to latch onto, waving your arms like a madman. You broke the water once or twice, gasping for air. Your lungs were flooded and you spluttered before being sucked back under. Your choking continued under water, being damned to a watery grave. Your head grew lighter and your lungs ached. 

This was it. This was how you were going to die. All because of a coward. 

Your vision began to darken, the void yearning for you to fall into her arms. Only your troubles were quelled when you spied a hand in the water. Without a single thought, you reached out to snatch it, choking out under water in agony as you were nearly pulled with the water. However, the hand on you turned into two and you were pulled up and out of the water.

The building you were pulled into was full of water too, only, it was still.

You took a few seconds to choke up the water you had swallowed, unable to thank your saviour — hell, for all you knew, it could have been the enemy. Wiping your eyes with your wet sleeve, you snivelled, lifting your head to see a man adorned in a green gear staring at you. He was masked in spite of the risk it posed to the water. A sniper sat on his back and he reached his hand out to take hold of your arm. You let him, wiping the snot on your upper lip with your gloved hand, blinking away the water. 

‘You American?’ he asked with a gruff tone, observing the patch on your arm. 

You nodded quickly, unable to think of the correct words. ‘Alpha 4,’ you rasped. ‘O- Our team was ambushed… helicopter went down.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I got away,’ you confirmed, clearing your throat, ‘called for exfil a- and they told us to meet a task force here.’ 

‘Stalker?’ 

‘Yes,’ you nodded. He gave you a nod. ‘Are you with them?’ 

‘Yeah,’ he answered, keeping hold of your arm. ‘You the only survivor?’ 

‘I was with someone else,’ you said, ‘but he left me for dead. We got caught in the flood and he rushed ahead of me… I got swept under. I couldn’t keep hold of anything because of my shoulder.’ 

His eyes fell down, spotting the bloody bullet hole in your shoulder. 

‘He one of your squad mates?’ 

‘Yes,’ you confirmed. 

He shook his head. ‘You got a weapon?’ 

Patting the holster on your thigh, you took hold of the handle of the knife. Pulling it out of the water, you showed it to him. 

‘Good,’ he said, ‘you’re with me.’ 

‘O- Okay,’ you said, ‘where’s the rest of your squad?’ 

‘Watched them run into a warehouse,’ he said, ‘follow me and keep low,’ he instructed, moving through the water without another word. 

Following after him, you held the knife in your hand tightly. You were trembling so much you feared it would slip out of your hold, and then you really thought you might have been fucked. You supposed almost dying would do that, but the betrayal of the man you had thought to be a brother felt worse. It was a dull jab in your spleen and your head throbbed as your face grew hot at the thought. 

What a fucking coward.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you asked the stranger in front of you. 

‘Set off two missiles and blew the dam open.’ 

‘Why would they do that?’ you choked out, their action seeming senseless. 

‘Scorched earth.’ 

‘Oh,’ you mumbled. Your nose continued to run as you wiped away streams of snot. ‘Thank you,’ you blurted out. The man in front of you stopped, looking over his shoulder, appearing what you could only interpret as confused. ‘You could have left me to drown.’ 

He nodded in your direction, it was curt and reeked of professionalism. He turned his back to you again, moving further through the building, expecting you to follow after him — and you did. His quietness was peculiar, unlike the sorts you had seen, especially after living with such a rowdy squad for so many years. The contrast was as sharp as a dagger, and you almost felt offended by his dryness.

Opening his mouth for a ‘you’re welcome’ surely wouldn’t have killed him. Still, you didn’t know him and your grievances fell flat on their face. You couldn’t insult the man who had just saved your life, no. You’d save that anger for the man who left you to die. 

You traversed through the building, eyes darting, surveying each and every corner. 

‘To any calls signs on this frequency, please respond. This is Ghost Two-Two.’ 

The man in front of you stopped, pressing his fingers into his earpiece. ‘Clear, Merrick.’ 

‘Keegan?’ said the voice on the other end, ‘you have sights on Elias or Rorke?’ 

‘Negative.’ 

‘Shit,’ huffed the man, ‘we lost ‘em in the water… we’re heading towards the hotel to recon.’ 

‘Roger,’ said the man, ‘I’ll be on the look out for Rorke and Elias. On my way.’

‘Heard,’ said the man before the line fell dead. 

Keegan continued on without a word and you followed after him. He lurked like a shadow as the pair of you came to a set of shattered window. Pushing himself upwards, he hung over the edge, before pushing himself off of it, landing on a bus which had gotten lodged in the middle of the street, acting like a bridge to the other building.

You’d expected him to continue on without you as you pulled yourself out of the water with a wince, hanging off of the ledge. Using your feet, you pressed them against the concrete, propelling your jump. You fell freely for two seconds before landing a top the bus. It creaked with the pair of you standing upon it, urging the pair of you to continue onwards. You took the warning without a question, following after the man. 

Unlike when you followed your squad, you felt like a lost puppy following after the first person who had leant down to pet it. It was demeaning, patronising. But you didn’t change your demeanour, too conscious of upsetting the man who had saved your life. However, there was one burning question that caused your legs to move faster in order to catch up to him. 

‘What is your squad doing here?’ you asked, jumping back into waist-high water as the pair of you entered another building. You landed with a huff, lifting your arms slightly to keep them out of the water. ‘We weren’t informed of there being anyone else… that’s why I’m asking.’ 

He looked you up and down as though you were one of them. Thinking for a second longer, his shoulders raised slightly as his tilted his head to the side. ‘We’re here to neutralise General Almagro,’ he responded, ‘and that’s still the plan.’

His discomfort in confessing such was potent and you had believed that he would have much rather kept it to himself. It seemed as though he thought telling you was a compromise — a breach, despite knowing you and him were fighting the same battle. Granted, even if the pair of you did escape, you were quite sure you wouldn’t be able to look any one in the eye and recount the terrors that had happened in such a short span of time. 

You wondered if you still had blood on your face. 

Navigating the flooding buildings with him was oddly peaceful, contrasting the crashing waves and sirens blurring on the streets. Instead, you waded through the murky water, keeping your mind clear of what else could have been lurking in there with you. Goosebumps ran rampant on your flesh, and your bottom lip trembled as your teeth clattered. Despite the beaming sun outside, the water was ice cold, subzero even. It did, however, work to soothe your burning limbs. 

You travelled building to building, cautious when it came to crossing over to another one. Luckily the cars in the street worked well to be a good enough bridge to ensure your safety. Anyone else would have convinced the gun fire would have been quelled after such a catastrophe, but it raged on, seemingly with more of a vengeance. Not that you were naive enough to believe that an operation would have been abandoned, of course not. Your mind seemed to be escaping you, you concluded, conjuring thoughts you’d typically roll your eyes at. 

It was when you made it one of the last buildings in your pursuit that you stilled, the gun fire being much louder than any you had heard over the passing minutes. Keegan turned to you, motioning towards a set of stairs which, supposedly led to the roof of the building. Reaching in his belt, he retrieved a pistol, holding it out to you. 

‘You need that,’ you said, pushing his hand away whilst shaking his head. ‘I’m fine.’ 

He didn’t speak, rather taking hold of your wrist, forcing the pistol into your hand, leaving you with no time to give it back to you as he turned his back to you, stalking up to the stairs. 

The next few minutes play out in your hands.

The typical battle you have part-took in during your time in the military, only, you had more time (than you would have liked) to watch the man who had been so insistent of you taking his pistol. He moved like the men’s shadows, quiet, slick — it was so impressive that you had only managed to take down one of the men when there had been four; he dealt with the rest, using their own guns against them.

When their bodies were floating in the water, he let out a short breath from behind the mask, turning to look at you as you approached him. It was a wordless token of his appreciation, you supposed, not knowing fully what his look meant. His recovery time from battle was seamless and the pair of you carried on as though nothing had happened. 

‘Merrick, hold your fire, we’re approaching your six,’ Keegan called as the pair of you moved down from atop a building into the remnants of one that had originally been stationed beside it.

Below the pair of you as you climbed was a group of men wearing similar uniforms to the one Keegan was wearing. The tightness in your chest eased ever so slightly upon the sight of the group as, while you had seen Keegan in action and had your own capabilities, there was something about being surrounded by more soldiers which made you feel at home.

‘Happy you could make it,’ an unfamiliar voice called over the radio, ‘thought your luck had finally ran out.’

A man with a black cap approached the pair of you, holding out his hand to you while Keegan jumped down back into the water. While you furrowed your brows at his advanced, you opted to be polite and placed your hand in his, allowing him to help you down. He did so with ease, looking you up and down. His confusion was evident. ‘Who’s your friend?’ he asked, letting go of your hand to hold his gun again. 

‘Her team was ambushed,’ Keegan answered, ‘the groups sent to distract.'

‘Ah,’ breathed the man, ‘you the only one to survive?’ 

‘There was another,’ you responded, trying to swallow down your anger. What the fuck did he mean by distract? ‘Left me for dead to save his own ass.’ 

‘That’s the problem with people in those squads,’ said the man standing in front of you, ‘they never protect their own. But you don’t have to worry about that happening while you’re with us,’ he said, looking around at his group, pride swelling in his chest, ‘does she?’ 

There was a collective ‘negative’ that sounded from all the men standing around you, and you felt your lips twitch, yet bit back your smile. 

A crash alerted all of you as a pile up of cars formed on the street, building a makeshift path to the parking lot across from you akin to the path you and Keegan had taken whilst traversing the wasteland of a city. Water spills up and over the metal, however, it seems to keep steady despite the creaking of the vehicles. 

‘We gotta get across,’ said the man in the black cap. 

Turning to him, a bearded man furrowed his brows. ‘Any ideas?’ 

The man in front of you glanced to the pile up, nodding. ‘Yeah. Follow me!’ 

He pushed first, climbing over the disintegrating wall and jumping onto the side of the car that had gotten caught. You watched as he moved effortlessly, and one by one, the group followed after him. You waited patiently, not wanting to overstep, and when it was only you and Keegan left, you waited for him to move.

However, he didn’t, instead motioning for you to cross over. You did as you were told, your eyes trained on your feet to ensure you did not end up in the treacherous waters again. Keegan was quick behind you, and when you made it to the other side, you allowed yourself to breathe, not noticing you’d been holding your breath. 

Taking cover behind one of the cars, you caught sight of more men in the water before the group, holding the pistol you had been gifted in your hands.

No words are shared as you work on clearing out more enemies, the further you push giving you ample opportunity to tuck the pistol into your waistband as you take one of the dead men’s guns. Pulling the magazine out, you glance into it, ensuring there is more than one shot. You were pleased to see only a few shots had been fired, pushing it back into the gun. You spied dry land in the distance, and the two soldiers who were shooting were dropped quickly. The whirling of propellors was the thing which sparked conversation. 

‘Helo Inbound!’

‘They’re picking up Almagro. We gotta move!’ declared the man with the black cap. 

‘We gotta get through that building!’ 

As though sent into overdrive, the gun fire and rounds shot increased and their determination left your own heart raging. The prospect that you were fighting with one of the best teams dawned upon you and you felt inspired. The day had started so terribly, yet, you made it out alive and you were fighting with a Task Force. How twisted the universe could be — to take so much but still give so much more. 

It almost made the betrayal you suffered hurt a little less. 

‘Elias, Merrick, you’re with me!’ stated the man, ‘Ajax, Keegan, miss! Cover our six!’ 

You promptly nod, although slightly soured. He couldn’t have been blamed, however; neither of you had had the time to share formalities. You pushed up two flights of stairs, being met with a metal door. Both the (who you assume to be their leader) and the bearded man crouch either side of the double doors. 

‘Elias, the door!’ 

The man standing before the pair of them, charged the door and force it open, meanwhile, you, Keegan, and Ajax watch on. When the door is pulled open, a helicopter is right there. Without a second thought, the three men charge it.

The three of you approached their position, keeping your eye trained on the surrounding area to ensure no stray bullets could compromise the objective. You stood idle with your finger on the trigger, all for the sight of a helicopter propelling downwards to catch your attention. Gunshots echoed from the inners of it, as it near enough squealed as it nose-dived downwards. You watched in horror — three men were in that helo, and there was physically nothing anyone could do to help them aside from watch as they met the doom. 

A crash erupted, as it dipped from out of view and you stared wide eyed, looking at the two men standing beside you. Ajax shared your horror, rushing to the edge of the roof, peering over the edge. Meanwhile, Keegan kept his eye out for any possible threat. Following Ajax, you peered over the edge to see that the helicopter had crashed on a balcony below the roof, most of it dangling off of the side. It creaks as a fire rages. 

‘Is there anything we can do?’ you asked. 

‘Negative,’ Ajax said, shaking his head, ‘to go after them would be a death sentence — they didn’t fall far either. I doubt any of them are seriously injured.’ 

You pursed your lips, unsure whether or not his speculation was the truth. The helicopter began to shift, falling forward. Swallowing hard, your throat tightened at the sound of half of the helicopter falling into the water with a splash. 

‘Everyone good?’ a voice called from inside. 

You caught the relief on Ajax’s face. 

There was a mumbled voice, you didn’t quite catch what was said before there was another splash in the water below. 

‘Shit! Rorke! Somebody, grab him! The whole thing’s shifting!’ 

There was a grunt and the crunch of metal. 

‘It’s breaking apart! We gotta move, now!’ 

The remaining part of the helicopter began to teeter on the edge it was sitting on. The weight of the day you had crashed down on you, the adrenaline that had powered you and kept your mind away from the bullet in your shoulder wearing off in the blink of an eye. Your entire body was on fire and you were stuck in a state of peril. Too many people had died that day, and you were going to be forced to witness three more die too. 

‘We’re too heavy! You gotta let him go!’ 

The creaking continued before you heard a shrill yell, ‘ELIAS!’ 

You spotted a body falling into the water, the man condemned to his untimely death as a row of ladders kept him trapped. His yelling was quelled when he his the rushing stream, and just as the rest of the helo followed suit, you watched as two men climbed out, throwing themselves on the ground. The heaved out breaths, Elias forcing himself up off of the ground, peering over the ledge. You couldn’t see his face, but he was trembling. 

Behind him, Merrick grunted, looking up to the three of you on the ledge. 

‘Amalgro’s dead,’ he said breathlessly, pressing his fingers into his ear piece, ‘threat neutralised. Rorke’s MIA. Calling for exfil.’ 

Chapter Two

[thelostdreamsthings]

"Putin is isolated."

BRICS, 50% of the World population is telling a big "fuck off" to the arrogant, declining and decadent G7 amounting to 10% of the World's population.

🇺🇳🇷🇺 UN Secretary General Guterres respectfully bows and shakes the hand of Putin in Russia’s Kazan at the BRICS summit.

A lot of people start crying and scream hysterically when they see this picture, for some reason.

[BRICS Currency Looms Large: Could This Be the Beginning of the End for U.S. Dollar Dominance?

For decades, the U.S. dollar has been weaponized as a tool of global dominance, wielded by the American empire to enforce its geopolitical will.

Through sanctions, coercive financial practices, and the threat of exclusion from the dollar-based system, the U.S. has effectively terrorized nations across the world.

The pretense of a “free market” economy has long been shattered by Washington's aggressive use of the dollar as a weapon to cripple economies, isolate adversaries, and exert control over global trade.

But the world is growing tired—sick and tired—of this financial tyranny. And now, with the rise of BRICS, we may be witnessing the beginning of the end for U.S. dollar supremacy.

BRICS—Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa—represent a bloc of nations that together account for nearly half of the global population and a significant chunk of the world’s GDP.

For years, these nations have been quietly collaborating to counterbalance the West's stranglehold over international finance, and now, they are inching closer to launching their own currency.

The creation of a BRICS currency signals an outright challenge to the dollar-dominated global economy, and it is nothing short of a revolt against American financial imperialism.

Why is this happening? The answer is simple: countries are fed up with being bullied. The U.S. has used its currency like a sledgehammer, smashing nations that dare to defy its hegemony.

Whether through sanctions on Iran, Venezuela, or Russia, or by financially suffocating smaller nations into submission, the dollar has become a tool of coercion rather than commerce.

Nations who once played by the rules of the so-called “global order” have found themselves punished, their economies crippled, and their people starved—merely for refusing to kowtow to Washington's dictates.

But BRICS is offering an alternative. The creation of a BRICS currency, backed by the economic strength of its member nations, offers the world a way out of the suffocating grip of the dollar.

This is not just about financial autonomy—it’s about reclaiming sovereignty, independence, and the right to conduct trade without the constant threat of U.S. interference.

Russia and China have been leading the charge in this effort, driven in part by the U.S. sanctions imposed on Moscow following the Ukraine conflict and the ongoing trade war with Beijing.

Both countries have moved aggressively to reduce their reliance on the U.S. dollar, increasing trade with each other and with other BRICS members in their local currencies.

They are laying the groundwork for a currency that could be based on a basket of commodities, potentially gold-backed, further weakening the grip of the U.S. dollar on the global market.

The U.S. has long prided itself on its role as the issuer of the world’s reserve currency, but this dominance was never guaranteed to last forever.

The BRICS currency threatens to dismantle the global financial architecture that has allowed the U.S. to live far beyond its means.

For decades, the U.S. has run massive deficits, printing money at will, secure in the knowledge that the world would continue to rely on the dollar.

But as BRICS nations move to establish their own currency, that privilege could evaporate overnight.

The implications for the U.S. are dire. If the dollar loses its status as the world’s reserve currency, the U.S. economy could face a severe reckoning.

The artificial demand for dollars that has kept interest rates low and allowed the U.S. to run massive debt could vanish, leading to inflation, higher borrowing costs, and potentially a fiscal crisis.

The American empire, propped up for so long by its control of global finance, could find itself in rapid decline.

For the rest of the world, however, the rise of a BRICS currency represents hope—a chance to escape the iron grip of U.S. financial imperialism. No longer will countries have to fear the punitive measures of the U.S. Treasury.

No longer will they have to worry about being cut off from the global financial system for standing up to American bullying.

The creation of a new currency could usher in a multipolar world, where nations are free to trade without being subject to the whims of a single superpower.

Of course, the U.S. will not go quietly. Washington will likely pull out all the stops to crush the BRICS currency before it can gain traction. The playbook will be the same: propaganda, financial sabotage, and even the threat of military intervention.

But this time, the world may not be so easily intimidated. The BRICS nations, backed by their vast resources and burgeoning economies, are prepared to stand their ground.

In the end, the creation of a BRICS currency is not just an economic development—it’s a revolutionary act. It’s a declaration that the age of American financial dominance is coming to an end, and that a new world is on the horizon.

The U.S. dollar, once seen as the bedrock of global stability, has become a symbol of oppression, and the world is ready to move on.

The question now is not whether the U.S. dollar will fall, but when. And as BRICS moves closer to launching its own currency, that day may be sooner than anyone expects.

The empire, long propped up by its financial manipulation, is facing a reckoning—one that could change the course of history.]

IMF Growth Forecast: 2024

🇮🇳India: 7.0% (BRICS)

🇨🇳China: 4.8% (BRICS)

🇷🇺Russia: 3.6% (BRICS)

🇧🇷Brazil: 3.0% (BRICS)

🇺🇸US: 2.8% (G7)

🇸🇦KSA: 1.5% (invited to BRICS)

🇨🇦Canada: 1.3% (G7)

🇿🇦RSA: 1.1% (BRICS)

🇬🇧UK: 1.1% (G7)

🇫🇷France: 1.1% (G7)

🇮🇹Italy: 0.7% (G7)

🇯🇵Japan: 0.3% (G7)

🇩🇪Germany: 0.0% (G7)

‼️ 159 out of 193 countries have signed up to use the new BRICS settlement system.

US and European Union will no longer be able to use economic sanctions as a weapon.

This system allows countries to settle trades and payments in their own currencies, reducing reliance on the U.S. dollar, which has long been the dominant global currency.

[addicted-to-dc]

AK!Jason Todd x Catwoman’s protégé! Reader - Just for tonight, Kitty - Pt 3

Guess who's back, back again? There will be a few more parts as long as inspiration fuels me.

Content: 18+, MDNI... angst, fluff, alcohol use (why does that look like it's spelled wrong?? anyways), getting into some smut (finally) in this part. Nothing too serious yettttt 😏

-----

Holding tight onto Jason, he grapples to the top of your penthouse. Rushing through the historical district at night always takes your breath away, especially with Jason. It’s been 5 years since you’ve enjoyed Gotham with him. It’s almost like the city is alive again.

Your feet gently land on the balcony, Jason landing behind you. Walking towards the entrance to the greenhouse, you input your code and open the door. The cold Gotham air quickly disappears as you step through the doorway. Jason’s right behind you, closing the door as he takes your plants in. Gifts from Ivy, ones that you spared no expense to help them thrive.

Finally, you enter your penthouse, descending your spiral staircase into your living area. The building, funnily enough, was severely damaged during one of the never-ending battles between Batman and his long list of rogues.

“I guess crime does pay, doesn’t it, Kitty?”

You turn around in time to watch him take off the mask. He places it out of sight, then his armor quickly meets the same fate. A bottle of your favorite drink calls your name. Two glasses join the party as you pour generous helpings of the beautifully colored liquid.

A quick laugh escapes from your lips as you turn to face him, your arm extending to hand him his glass, “It certainly has its perks, especially now I’ve branched out of Gotham.”

You take a sip, testing the flavor as you sink into the most comfortable couch money could buy. The glass is quickly placed on the table as you begin to take off your suit. Your gloves are the first thing to go, the fabric and hardware easily slipping off your arms.

Jason stays still, leaning against your countertop. He watches as your boots get tossed near the staircase. His eyes wander to the whip still attached to your waist before taking a big gulp of his drink. “That why you were in Venezuela?”

You take another gulp, relishing in your newfound warmth thanks to the alcohol. “Shopping for things to pay the bills. Might’ve made enough to retire.”

He laughs, “Do you really think you can retire? Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

Leaning forward, you swirl your glass as he makes his way towards you. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt to make it a part-time thing. Have some more time for myself, maybe for us?”

Jason finally sits down, leaving no space between the two of you. “After tomorrow night, I’m all yours.”

You gulp down the rest of your drink down, needing something to rid the thought of the near future. He places his drink next to yours before pulling you closer. Your thighs drag over his until you’re resting on top of them. He drags his fingers along the seams of your suit, goosebumps trailing behind his touch. You lean in closer, sighing as you take in his body heat.

“What are we going to do after this? Stay in Gotham?” you ask, your hand playing with the fabric on his chest. “We could go anywhere if we wanted to.”

His hand weaves in between yours, pulling it up for a kiss. “I don’t know, haven’t really thought of anything after this.”

You sigh, squeezing his hand. “No matter what we do, we always end up back here.”

“Hey.”

Your eyes flick up to his immediately. He adjusts himself, taking you with him as he places his back flush against the cushion. The movement sends a gasp out of your mouth, the friction setting you on fire. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself, using his shoulders to recompose yourself. You didn’t even register he unzipped the front of your suit until you felt his lips on you.

“Jay,” you whimper, back arching as he pulls you closer.

“This is where we met, Kitty, had all our little adventures,” he begins, leaving a trail of kisses and bruises as he travels upwards. “A little vacation every now and then would be nice, but…”

He bites your neck, stealing your breath away as he soothes the skin afterwards. Your grip on his shoulders loosens, overwhelmed by everything he’s doing to you.

“…Gotham’s home as long as you’re in it.”

You forgot how soft his lips were against yours.

---

Aha CLIFFHANGERRRR XD. Felt right to torture you guys a bit. Part 4 will be out soon, won't be able to fend off the fic voices for long.

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome!!

[inuyashaluver]

Loving your fics and who do you write for do you write for deyna castellanos if you know who she is

it suits you - deyna castellanos

deyna castellanos x reader

a/n thank you for your support and request lovely! I hope this is what you wanted ❤️

description: in which you and your fiancé meet a baby and after a game and your fiancé can help but notice how much it suits you.

warnings: slightly suggestive I think that’s it

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your fiancé , deyna have been dating for many years. you had met in the venezuelan national team when you were in the under 17s team, creating a close friendship.

over the years, when deyna went to college, you stayed in venezuela, playing for a local club. you really missed her. you realised that maybe your friendship was more romantic. and so you made the move when she came home and you confessed to her.

you picked her up from the airport, flowers in hand and a big smile on your face. she spotted you and quickened her pace towards you, smiling brightly. when she reached you, she wrapped her arms around your waist and put her head into your neck. you yelped and wrapped your arms around her neck, giving her a small kiss on the top of her head.

you giggled when she places you down and ruffles your hair.

“amorcito (little love), how are you my girl?”

“I’m good amor, how are you?”

she looked at you with so much love, you knew she felt the same.

“I’m good, I missed you though” she moved her hand to rest on your cheek, grazing her thumb over your jaw, pupils dilated.

“come on, to the car!” you grab her hand and directed her out of the airport.

once you had pulled up to your apartment, you both went inside and collapsed on the couch, her lying on top of you with her head resting on your stomach.

“amor, I need to tell you something” you began to play with her hair with your left hand,

“anything bebé” she rest her chin on your torso staring up at you

“I’m nervous so bare with me” she grabbed your right hand for reassurance, nodding her head at you for encouragement.

“I really” you paused, “ I really like you, more than a friend” she smiles as bright as the sun at you, moving up to hover over you and pulled you into a searing kiss, suddenly she pulls away and you whine at the loss of contact.

“oh I really like you too by the way, if you couldn’t tell” she winked before you pull her into another loving and passionate kiss, and the rest is history.

-present time-

today was game day. the match had gone extremely well, venezuela had won.

one of your main priorities at the end of the game is to interact with your loyal fans. you begin to do your rounds, not waiting for deyna, as you couldn’t find her at that moment.

as you walk around the pitch, stopping at everyone wanting a photo or signature, then you spot the cutest baby looking at you with bright eyes wearing your jersey. at this point, deyna was next to you, also stopping for pictures and signatures.

“can I please hold the baby?” you ask the mother and she nods eagerly at you.

“oh my goodness, come here angel” you coo, gently taking the baby into your arms and smiling for the mother’s phone for a picture.

deyna watched the entire interaction, heart eyes evident on her face.

she walked over to you and placed a hand at the side of your waist, you move your head to face her,

“amor, look! my jersey!” you whisper shouted at her. she giggled and nodded at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek and another on the baby’s small head.

“this suits you bebé” she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, you as well noticed a shift in both of you. you pass the baby over to deyna,

“hello cariño, you are so cute” she rocked the baby side to side and looks into your eyes with a pout,

“can we keep them?” she spoke to the mother, you both laughed as the mother said yes, choosing to give them back anyway.

you say thank you and walk back to the changing room.

when you neared the changing room, deyna put a ball up her shirt, illustrating her as a pregnant woman. she looked at you with a pleading pout, asking if you thought it suited her. you laugh at her and told her to go and shower.

deyna sat in her cubby, opposite from yours. you took of your jersey, leaving you in your sports bra. she wolf whistles at you and pats her lap for you to sit down. you sat sidewards on her lap, she ran her hands over your legs, smoothing the skin.

“my lovely fiancé, you are so beautiful-”

“you want a baby I know” you kiss her cheeks giggling.

she smiles up at your uncommon taller figure,

“I think I do, you would look so hot pregnant I can’t stop thinking about it”

“alright castellanos, at least wait till we get home” you laugh together.

you get up and throw your shirt in her face,

“the quicker you are, the quicker the baby” you joked.

she ran so fast to the shower, finishing extremely fast and rushing you to hurry up so you could go home for a “chat”.

you were pregnant a month later.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

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deynacastellanos: mamá and I can’t wait to meet you patito (duckling)

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yourname: baby!

↳ deynacastellanos: baby!