#hit woman

[ladyeckland28]

Trigger Happy

A thriller by Ecky

Glenn sat across the desk from the reclusive billionaire, his sharp eyes narrowed as he listened to the details of his latest assignment.

"So you want me to take out this woman, Allie, who you've hired to assassinate you?" Glenn asked, drumming his fingers on the ornate mahogany surface.

The billionaire, a pale, gaunt man named Soren, nodded slowly. "Yes. She is unaware that I've hired you to be her...competition, shall we say. I want to see which of you is the superior assassin. She doesn't even know that I hired her. She believes I am the target."

Glenn leaned back in his chair, considering the proposal. On one hand, he bristled at the idea of being made into some sort of pawn in this wealthy man's twisted game. But on the other, the challenge of matching wits and skills with a formidable female assassin intrigued him.

"What's in it for me?" he finally asked.

Soren slid a thick envelope across the desk. "Half the payment upfront. The other half when the job is done."

Glenn opened the envelope, whistling softly as he counted the crisp bills. "This is quite a substantial amount. I assume you want Allie eliminated quickly and...discreetly?"

"Precisely," Soren replied. "I don't want any loose ends. When you've completed the assignment, I want her gone for good."

Glenn nodded, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Consider it done. I'll be in touch."

He rose from his chair and left the billionaire's opulent office, his mind already whirring with strategy. He would need to gather intelligence on this Allie woman, learn her strengths and weaknesses, before making his move. This was going to be an interesting challenge, he could already tell.

***

Allie crouched on the rooftop, her sharp eyes scanning the streets below for any sign of her target. Soren Whitaker, the reclusive billionaire, was holed up in his heavily guarded mansion, but she was determined to find a way in.

After months of careful planning and reconnaissance, she was finally ready to make her move. Whitaker had many enemies, both personal and business-related, and Allie had been hired by one of them to eliminate him. The payout would be substantial, enough to set her up for life and allow her to finally retire from the shadowy world of professional assassination.

She shifted her weight slightly, feeling the familiar weight of the pistol holstered at her hip and the razor-sharp throwing knives strapped to her forearms. She was as prepared as she could be, but there was always an element of unpredictability when it came to these sorts of jobs.

Allie took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. She had to stay focused and alert. This was no time for rookie mistakes. Whitaker was a wily, paranoid man, and she knew he would have top-notch security measures in place. Getting inside would be no easy feat.

As she scanned the mansion's perimeter, she caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows near the back gate. Allie tensed, her hand instinctively going to the grip of her pistol. Was it one of Whitaker's guards, or perhaps...

No, it couldn't be. Surely she wasn't being followed. Allie had been so careful to cover her tracks, to ensure that no one was on to her. Yet the feeling of being watched persisted, a prickly sensation at the back of her neck.

Slowly, she sank back down into the shadows, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for the source of the movement. She couldn't afford any distractions, not now. Whitaker was her sole focus, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down for a single moment.

After several long, tense minutes, the movement in the shadows seemed to have vanished. Allie let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She was being paranoid, that was all. This job was just getting to her, that was all.

Steeling her nerves, Allie turned her attention back to the task at hand. She had a billionaire to eliminate, and she wasn't going to let anything - or anyone - stand in her way.

***

Glenn moved silently through the shadows, his keen eyes scanning the perimeter of the mansion for any signs of his target. Allie, the woman he had been hired to eliminate, was somewhere out there, lurking in the darkness as she planned her own attack on the reclusive billionaire.

He had done his homework, gathering as much intelligence as he could on the elusive assassin. Allie was a ghost, a shadowy figure who left no trace, no witnesses. She was the best in the business, and Soren Whitaker had hired her to take him out.

But Whitaker had also hired Glenn, and the hitman was determined to prove that he was the superior assassin. He would not be bested by some woman, no matter how skilled she might be.

As he crept along the perimeter, Glenn couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This was the kind of challenge he lived for - a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, with the ultimate prize being the successful completion of the contract.

He paused, his senses on high alert as he scanned the rooftops. There - a flicker of movement, barely perceptible in the darkness. Glenn's eyes narrowed as he focused in on the source, his heart pounding with anticipation.

This was it. Time to put his skills to the test.

***

Allie tensed as she felt a presence in the shadows, a subtle shift in the air that sent a shiver down her spine. She was being watched, she was sure of it.

Slowly, she turned, her hand reaching for the pistol at her hip. Her eyes scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of movement. She couldn't afford to be caught off guard, not with Whitaker's security detail so close by.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a fluid, almost predatory grace. Allie's breath caught in her throat as she caught a glimpse of the man's face - chiseled features, cold eyes, and a determined expression.

It wasn't one of Whitaker's guards. This was someone else entirely, someone who had been sent to stop her.

Allie's fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol as she faced off against the intruder. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice low and steady.

The man's lips curved into a humorless smile. "My name is Glenn. And I've been hired to eliminate you."

Allie's heart raced as she took in the man's words. So Whitaker had brought in a hitman to handle his little "assassin problem." She should have known he wouldn't make it easy.

"Well, Glenn," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "it looks like we have a problem."

Without warning, she drew her pistol and opened fire, the crack of the gunshots echoing through the night. Glenn dove for cover, his own weapon drawn as he returned fire.

The two assassins exchanged a flurry of shots, their bullets ricocheting off the mansion's walls and shattering nearby windows. Allie cursed under her breath as one of Glenn's shots grazed her arm, drawing blood.

This was going to be a lot harder than she had anticipated.

***

Glenn ducked behind a large planter, his heart pounding as he reloaded his weapon. The woman was good, he had to give her that. She was fast, agile, and clearly had the training to back up her deadly skills.

But so did he. Glenn was no amateur, and he was determined to prove his superiority over this Allie woman. Soren Whitaker had hired him for a reason, and he wasn't about to fail.

As the sound of gunfire died down, Glenn peeked out from his cover, searching for any sign of his target. He caught a glimpse of movement off to his left and fired off a quick burst, but Allie had already disappeared back into the shadows.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Glenn murmured, his voice low and taunting. "I know you're out there, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere until I've eliminated you."

He moved cautiously through the darkness, his senses on high alert. Allie was out there, somewhere, and he knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. This was a challenge he was more than ready to meet.

As he rounded a corner, a flash of movement caught his eye. Glenn whirled, his weapon at the ready, but Allie was quicker. She emerged from the shadows, her pistol trained on his chest, and Glenn found himself staring down the barrel of her gun.

"Nice try, Glenn," she purred, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But I'm afraid your little game is over."

***

Allie's finger tightened on the trigger, but something held her back. This Glenn was good - really good - and she couldn't help but admire his skill and determination. He had managed to track her down and corner her, no small feat for a man who was supposedly her target.

"You know, Allie," Glenn said, his voice low and calm, "we don't have to do this. I'm sure we could come to some kind of...arrangement."

Allie narrowed her eyes, weighing her options. She could pull the trigger and eliminate this threat to her mission, but something about the way he was looking at her, almost as if he respected her, gave her pause.

"What kind of arrangement did you have in mind?" she asked, her voice cautious.

Glenn's lips curved into a smile. "Well, now, that's a good question. How about we call a temporary truce and work together to take out our mutual friend Soren Whitaker? After all, we're both professionals, and I have to admit, I'm rather impressed by your skills. It would be a shame to let all that talent go to waste."

Allie considered his proposal, her mind racing. It was a risky move, to be sure, but working together might give them a better chance of eliminating Whitaker. And if they could pull it off, she might be able to walk away with the payout and her life intact.

"All right, Glenn," she said, lowering her weapon slightly. "You've got a deal. But don't think for a second that I trust you. The moment this job is done, all bets are off."

Glenn chuckled, holstering his own weapon. "Fair enough, sweetheart. Let's get to work."

***

Soren Whitaker paced back and forth in his study, his brow furrowed with worry. It had been hours since he had last heard from Glenn, and he was starting to grow concerned. Had something gone wrong? Had Allie somehow managed to get the upper hand?

He paused in front of the massive windows, his gaze sweeping over the grounds of his estate. Everything seemed quiet, eerily so. Where was his hitman? And more importantly, where was Allie?

Soren's heart raced as a sudden, terrible realization dawned on him. What if Glenn and Allie had...teamed up? The thought sent a chill down his spine. If that was the case, then he was in serious trouble.

He hurried to his desk, fumbling with the drawer until he found the revolver he kept hidden there. With shaking hands, he loaded the weapon, his mind racing with possibilities. He had to be ready, had to be prepared for whatever was coming.

Soren had thought he was so clever, pitting two deadly assassins against each other. But now, it seemed, he might have miscalculated. And the consequences could be dire.

***

Allie and Glenn moved silently through the shadows, their weapons at the ready as they approached the mansion's main entrance. They had spent the last several hours planning their attack, discussing strategy and playing to each other's strengths.

"You sure this is going to work?" Allie whispered, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the area for any sign of guards.

Glenn nodded, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Trust me, sweetheart. This plan is foolproof. Whitaker won't know what hit him."

Allie couldn't help but admire the man's bravado, even if she didn't fully trust him. There was no denying that he was skilled, and she had to admit that working together was proving to be a more effective strategy than trying to take Whitaker on alone.

As they approached the main gates, Allie held up a hand, signaling Glenn to stop. "Wait," she whispered. "Do you hear that?"

Glenn listened intently, his senses on high alert. After a moment, he nodded. "Sounds like Whitaker is on the move. He must be spooked."

Allie's lips curved into a grim smile. "Then let's not keep him waiting."

They moved quickly and quietly, making their way towards the mansion's entrance. Allie could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for.

As they reached the front door, Glenn raised his hand, signaling for Allie to stay put. "You take the back," he whispered. "I'll handle the main entrance. We'll converge on Whitaker from both sides."

Allie nodded, already moving silently towards the rear of the mansion. She could feel Glenn's eyes on her as she went, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was making a mistake by trusting him. But there was no time to dwell on that now. She had a job to do.

***

Soren's heart raced as he heard the sound of the front door being breached. He gripped the revolver tightly, his knuckles turning white as he braced himself for the attack.

He knew it was futile, of course. He was no match for a pair of trained assassins, even with his security detail. But he was damned if he was going to go down without a fight.

As the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls, Soren took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. He wasn't going to make it easy for them. He was going to go down swinging.

Suddenly, the door to his study burst open, and Soren found himself staring down the barrel of Glenn's pistol. The hitman's eyes were cold and calculating, and Soren knew in that moment that he was done for.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Glenn drawled, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Soren Whitaker, in the flesh."

Soren raised his revolver, his hand shaking slightly. "Don't come any closer, you bastard," he snarled.

Glenn chuckled, unfazed by the threat. "Or what? You'll shoot me? I'd like to see you try."

As the two men faced off, Allie appeared in the doorway, her own weapon trained on Soren. "It's over, Whitaker," she said, her voice eerily calm. "You've run out of options."

Soren's eyes darted back and forth between the two assassins, his mind racing. He had to think of a way out, a way to escape this nightmare. But as he stared into their cold, unforgiving eyes, he knew that his time had run out.

With a resigned sigh, he lowered his revolver, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Do it, then," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Get it over with."

Glenn and Allie exchanged a quick glance, and for a moment, Soren thought he saw a flicker of something akin to pity in their eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same steely determination he had seen before.

As the sound of gunfire echoed through the mansion, Soren Whitaker's world went dark.

***

Allie and Glenn stood in the middle of the study, their weapons still drawn as they surveyed the aftermath of their handiwork. Soren Whitaker lay dead on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring up at them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room the sound of their own heavy breathing. Allie felt a strange sense of...something, she wasn't quite sure what. Relief? Satisfaction? Regret?

"Well, that's that," Glenn finally said, breaking the silence. "Looks like we make a pretty good team, don't we, sweetheart?"

Allie shot him a sideways glance, her expression unreadable. "Don't get too comfortable, Glenn. This was a one-time deal. As soon as we're out of here, it's every man for himself."

Glenn chuckled, holstering his weapon. "Fair enough. But you have to admit, we make one hell of a killer duo."

Allie eyed Glenn warily, her finger itching to pull the trigger. "This is where we part ways, Glenn. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you walk out of here alive."

Glenn raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Easy, sweetheart. Let's not be too hasty." He took a step forward, and Allie tensed, her grip tightening on her weapon.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Allie warned, her voice low and dangerous. "I'll put a bullet between your eyes before you can blink."

Glenn chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You know, Allie, I have to hand it to you. You're one tough broad. But you're forgetting one important detail..."

Suddenly, a groan came from the corner of the room, and Allie's eyes widened as she watched Soren Whitaker slowly push himself up from the floor. "What the--?" she gasped, her mind racing.

Soren fixed her with a twisted smile, his hand pressed against his chest. "Kevlar vest," he rasped, a hint of triumph in his voice. "You two really thought I would make it that easy, didn't you?"

Allie whirled back to face Glenn, her heart pounding. "You bastard," she snarled. "You were in on this the whole time, weren't you?"

Glenn shrugged, his expression unrepentant. "What can I say, sweetheart? I'm a professional. And when the money's good enough, I don't ask too many questions."

Soren let out a raspy chuckle. "That's right, my dear. Glenn and I have been working together all along. And now, it's time to finish the job."

Allie's mind raced as she realized the trap she had fallen into. Soren and Glenn had been playing her from the start, using her to eliminate each other's obstacles. And now, she was the one who was trapped.

As Soren and Glenn advanced on her, Allie knew she had to act fast. She couldn't let them get the upper hand. With a sudden burst of speed, she opened fire, her bullets raining down on the two men.

Glenn and Soren dodged and weaved, their own weapons trained on Allie. The room erupted in a deafening cacophony of gunfire, the air thick with the acrid scent of spent gunpowder.

Allie felt a sharp pain in her shoulder as one of Soren's bullets grazed her, and she gritted her teeth against the agony. She couldn't let them see her weakness, couldn't let them know that she was faltering.

With a desperate, last-ditch effort, Allie lunged forward, her knife flashing in the dim light. She caught Glenn by surprise, burying the blade in his thigh, and he let out a roar of pain and fury.

As Glenn stumbled, Allie turned her attention to Soren, her eyes narrowed with determination. She had come too far to let this twisted game end in defeat.

Soren's eyes widened in alarm as Allie advanced on him, her weapon raised. "No, wait!" he cried, his voice laced with fear. "We can make a deal, can't we?"

Allie's lips curved into a cold, humorless smile. "Sorry, Whitaker. I'm done playing by your rules."

And with that, she pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the mansion as Soren Whitaker crumpled to the ground, his life coming to a sudden and brutal end.

Allie stood there, breathing heavily, her gaze fixed on the fallen billionaire. She had won, but at what cost? She had been manipulated, played for a fool, and the realization stung more than any of the wounds she had sustained.

As she turned to leave, she caught sight of Glenn, who was still struggling to his feet, his face contorted with pain and rage. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Allie saw a glimmer of respect in his gaze.

"You know, sweetheart," he rasped, "you really are something else."

Allie didn't respond, simply turning and walking away, her steps steady and determined. She had a new target in her sights now - herself. She had to find a way to put this whole ugly mess behind her, to regain the control she had lost.

And she would do it, no matter what it took. Because Allie was a survivor, and she wasn't about to let anyone - not Soren Whitaker, not Glenn, and not even herself - stand in her way.

***

But as Allie reached the door, a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. To her horror, she saw Soren Whitaker slowly pushing himself up from the floor, a triumphant grin on his face.

"I told you," he rasped, his voice dripping with malice. "I'm not going down without a fight."

Allie whirled around, her weapon raised, but Soren was quicker. He had somehow managed to retrieve his revolver, and he leveled it at her, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Glenn!" Soren barked, his eyes never leaving Allie's face. "Finish her off. I want her gone for good."

Glenn, who had been clutching his wounded leg, looked up in surprise. For a moment, Allie thought she saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a cold, calculating determination.

As Glenn pushed himself to his feet, Allie knew she was in trouble. She was injured, exhausted, and outnumbered. The odds were stacked against her, and she cursed herself for letting her guard down, even for a moment.

With a surge of adrenaline, Allie opened fire, her bullets ripping into Glenn's shoulder. The hitman howled in pain and stumbled, his weapon clattering to the floor.

Soren's eyes widened in alarm, and he tightened his grip on his revolver, his finger squeezing the trigger. But Allie was already moving, her own weapon trained on the billionaire.

The room erupted in a flurry of gunfire, the air thick with the acrid smell of spent cartridges. Allie felt a burning sensation in her side as one of Soren's shots grazed her, but she refused to falter, her focus laser-sharp.

In the end, it was Allie who emerged victorious, her final shot finding its mark in Soren's chest. The billionaire crumpled to the floor, his life finally coming to an end.

Allie stood there, her chest heaving, her eyes scanning the room with a grim satisfaction. She had been played, manipulated, and nearly killed. But in the end, she had emerged the victor.

With a final, lingering glance at the two fallen men, Allie turned and made her way out of the mansion, her steps steady and determined. She had a lot of work to do, a lot of loose ends to tie up.

But one thing was certain – she was never going to let anyone get the better of her again. From now on, Allie was in control, and she would do whatever it took to protect her own interests.

As she disappeared into the night, the sounds of sirens in the distance, Allie knew that this was just the beginning. The game was far from over, and she was ready to play.

[lullabiesinaglasswilderness]

[tenali-san]

sisters odyssey - a day in a life of a contract killer

Narration by

Adra

I hate mornings, I wake up and my bones hurt, they make sounds like doors in winter. This is what being 30 feels like I guess. I have a tiny apartment because I live alone. But it’s cool. I have a nice TV as big as the wall. I don’t have much stuff in the kitchen, I only make omelets or coffee. I wake up around 11-12 in the afternoon. I brush my teeth. Put on an ice face pack. Do some cardio, I have a treadmill at my house. Then around a 100 pushups, 100 sit ups and a 100 jumping jacks. Then I go take a bath, put some aloe vera on my face. Then I watch re-runs of my favorite TV shows – Samuel science, SpongeBob and breaking bad! I also watch this anime about space cowboys, it’s great.

I do this until around 5pm, that’s when I step outside. I don’t like to go out in the day because it’s all too sunny. There are barely any clouds on mis bolas. Mis bolas is a large city built on an island near southern ireland in 1687 by many pirates of that era. It was built as a safe haven for all bandits. And now with a population of 2.22 million citizens, it is recognized as an independent nation. The nation makes most of its money from being a tourist spot for rich businessmen and a hiding spot for rich illegal businessmen. And yes, the person who named this island – mis bolas, did not speak Spanish.

Most people here are hotel workers, shopkeepers, fishermen, or straight-up criminals. When people ask me what I do, I just say – I paint houses for a living. The many far away districts are connected by a metro rail system. The station is near my house. I get in the train and it’s usually crowded at that time. I get off and go to this bar nearby called – “escapism” I know, what a pretentious name! They serve beer with sushi, why!? I don’t know, the sushi is definitely not made by a Japanese fella I can just tell. But the beer’s good so I don’t complain. I go there to meet my contractor – paco. I’ve worked with him for 8 years. He’s an old Mexican feller, I usually find him at his regular table, I go sit there, and he shows me a photo and an address written on paper. I don’t keep it with me, I just memorize the face and other details.

I get back on the train, I’m listening to music, waiting for my stop to arrive. I see a group of friends sitting across from me. The group is eating burgers and fries and having fun, making jokes, and laughing like crazy folks. They seem happy. I’ve been living here for many years. But never seem to make any friends. But I prefer it this way.  

i got off on my stop, and started walking. i came near a large mansion. Two guards were standing near the gate, went to the backside, two guards there as well. pulled out my two guns with silencers, walked up to the gate, shot both in the head before they could even speak, opened the gate, kept walking, two more men see me and draw their gun out, two more headshots, walked past them as well. But this time, one guard had yet to die, he shot a bullet in the air. The loud sound now alarmed everyone inside the mansion. Their boss – Kenny was told to hide upstairs. Eight more guards stand near the backdoor, waiting for me. But I don’t enter, to make them think I ran away. One of them slowly walks towards the door and opens it, he peeks outside. No one! He comes out, two dead at the gate and two on the lawn. Where is the shooter?

“No one’s here!” he shouts

“You sure?” I ask, hanging on to a window below the backdoor! i shoot him in the head and go in through the window!

“She’s on the second floor, hurry!” the 7 remaining men run upstairs, I’m not in the hallway!

A gunshot is heard from the boss’s room.

The guards run to the room, open the door, boss is shot dead! It was me, standing over his body, looking at the beaten naked girl in the corner! God knows what that monster had done to her.

I look at the guards! I was planning on killing Kenny and just leaving quietly, but now, after seeing that girl, I couldn’t resist. shot two more guards, the others started running away.

The 5 remaining guards ran out the backdoor, went to the previous window and shot three down. Two remaining. ran outside, saw them going towards the beach and followed,  saw one guard jump in the water and swimming away, I was going to shoot him too but… it felt familiar.. I couldn’t shoot him for some reason... It felt wrong, i let him swim away.

That’s still one remaining, a big guy with a pistol was hiding behind a nearby tree, had come out and was standing right behind me, ‘I am too close, she can’t dodge this one’ he must’ve thought. i had no idea he was behind me. He pulled the trigger and just before the bullet left the barrel, my head moved just a little to get out of the bullet’s path, it went forward, barely touching my ear!  

i quickly turned and shot the gun out of his hand. Then ran and slammed my leg right into his head, killing him instantly!

i went back to the mansion, i had to cut off Kenny’s finger! As a proof to show he’s dead

The naked girl was still in the corner, I say to her -

“They aren’t coming for you, call the police, say anything about me and I will find you, understand?”

The girl nodded. I left the mansion. Waited outside until the cops arrived and then left for the station. To go back at the “escapism”, god I hate that name!

I go sit back at paco’s table. Put Kenny’s thumb on the table. Paco holds it, inspects it

“Any witnesses?” he asks

“Two, one of them was kidnapped woman, one was a guard who… swam away!”

“Why do you do that adra?”

“Do what?”

“Let guys swim away!”

“I got the target, just like always”

“ya, and that’s great, but what is that? The swimmers, it’s very specific”

“paco I don’t want to talk about that! Stop asking me.”

“Okay, forget I said anything”

Paco pulls out an envelope full of cash, I take it. He orders two drinks for us. He knows I don’t like to talk. He insists on talking to me, say it’s so I don’t forget how to speak. He says if you don’t talk or listen to anyone for three days, you can forget language itself! I don’t believe in that crap. Paco’s an old man, he says he used to be a sailor back in the day. Worked on a mob bosses private yacht as its captain! When the boss got arrested he had to fire paco, he gave him a piece of land on mis bolas. And let him keep the yacht.

When he came here he saw many people who worked for the boss. Some of them needed “work” and some of them needed “workers” so paco became the middleman. He talks about his youth, how he misses the ocean. He wishes to one day go back with his ship, into the sea, but all his life is here. He wants a reason to go back. Without a destination – a journey is pointless after all.  

I don’t get what is so great about the ocean. I had lived there for 5 years myself, I never felt anything about it. I was just happy to be alive.

Paco ordered two beers for us. I prefer drinking in silence, but paco never ever takes the hint. I don’t reply anytime he starts a conversation, he thinks I am a good listener!

“Are scared of the ocean adra? I was a sailor back in my day and let me tell you… it is! I mean I still want to go back sailing but… It does feel like outer space! There’s nothing but water no matter where you look. So I can understand if some folks don’t like it. Sometime its kind, sometimes it’s cruel. Full of unholy creations of god! Don’t even ask about the giant squid!”

My ears stood up!

“A…a squid?”

“ooooh nononono.. More like… an octopus! A giant octopus!”

So… it wasn’t a dream! I’ve drank with this old man for so many years and he never brought up the octopus! I mean I did always tune out most of what he said. I came to this island to leave my past behind, why is it coming back now?

“Have you ever seen a giant octopus adra?” paco asked

“I…. I did. When I was 10!”

[ghost-in-the-corner]

Remember that moment in ITSV, when Miles first meets his world's Spider-Man and their spider senses do the thing?

The background behind Peter is as we'd expect; the classic red and blue.

But at first Miles' background is green and purple, two colors he's never associated with at all throughout the movie. As the moment goes on, it shifts to match Peter's.

We are literally watching Miles' fate change and the anomaly happen.

It's well established that the spider that bit him was not supposed to even be in that universe, meaning our Miles was supposed to be something else before it happened.

This isn't true for ITSV, but in every other version of Spider-Man, the main color scheme for the Prowler is green and purple.

Our Miles was supposed to become the next Prowler in his world. And the only reason he's not, is because of the original Prowler. Miles switched his fate with Earth-42 Miles.

[tittyinfinity]

I was hanging out at the karaoke bar, chatting with a beautiful woman, and we were really hitting it off. I threw a couple of flirtatious comments her way. She giggled nervously, but abruptly stopped and looked at the floor.

She told me that she was too nervous to hit on people because she's trans and worries that people will view her as a predator and that she might get hurt.

My heart sank. I let her know that she could hit on me in whatever way she wanted and I would LOVE it. We spent the rest of the night hanging out and flirting. We ended up making out. It was great.

But I can't stop thinking about how that wasn't the first time a trans woman has said that to me. About how unsafe it is for some women that they feel the need to give out fucking disclaimers to have normal interactions with people.

We have GOT to make the world a safer place for trans women. It pisses me off that there are men at the bar who are openly predatory towards me without fear of consequence, yet a trans woman is too scared to even fucking call me pretty. And that's because she IS more likely to face worse consequences for lesser things! Like what the fuck!

You need to always check on your internalized biases. Being queer yourself doesn't absolve you of transmisogynistic thoughts and behaviors. Being bi/pansexual doesn't mean you don't hold those biases either! If you feel differently about a trans woman hitting on you than you feel about a cis woman or a man hitting on you, you need to evaluate that.

Trans women, I love you so fucking much. You should be able to express attraction and love as freely as everyone else. I hope you can always feel safe around me. And I'll never stop fighting until you can feel safe period.

[brainrotcharacters]

makes me giggle to think of X2 Logan meeting dp&w Logan when this is a thing

[bugcatcherkit]

whyd they think marriage was a good idea

[venomgaia]

gal who calls you girliepop and collects bugs

[mattikitku]

Tokyo 2020 silver medalist Maria Andrejczyk posted a season-best as she threw for 65.52m in qualifying - the top distance of any competitor

[dohawee]

This! the person who did the casting is definitely one of them

[chichapalabok]

what if yuri... sonoko never got that injury and conan didnt get that antidote lmao

[moonkhao]

WE ARE | EP11

[lovergrlllll]

[finsterwalds]

Got a request for Skyler and Saul content.... Here's my proposition: instead of having an affair with Ted Beneke, Skyler and Saul are pretending to have an affair to piss Walt off but they actually aren't. Non-pictured: Saul gets beaten up by Walt for this

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

It would be nice to read a Superman comic that’s more Clark than Kal.

It would be nice to read a Batman comic where Bruce does more good as himself for the issues than as Batman.

It would be nice to see Diana in one of her many jobs like a museum curator bringing beautiful pieces of history to light for people to marvel at or as a diplomat.

It would be nice to see Barry solving crimes with his forensic science without bolting off between every discovery to handle things as Flash.

It would be wonderful to read a story about these awesome heroes that was focused on what good their other identities do, with their heroic personas as background instead of the other way around. I hardly hear of stories that last more than a few issues or an arch that gives us a nice long look into their civilian lives, if anyone knows any longer arcs like this I’d love to read them.

[thesmokinpossum]

If My Body Could Speak, Blythe Baird | The Godfather, Mario Puzo | My Father's House, Sylvia Fraser | To The Daughter Who Secretly Longs For Her Mother’s Affection, Lynne Shako | Storms from Jupiter, Wanda Deglane | DO NOT REPLY, @filmnoirsbian