#i really think if i at least got an esa i could go out into the world and exist fairly well

[sk3l3t0n444]

i think i could really benefit from a service dog but my other dogs would get jealous that i take one dog everywhere and not them lmao

[mortuaest]

Large rant, sorry. Please ignore if any of the trigger warnings are going to be an issue. I need to get it off of my chest because if I rant on FB I get hit with a character limit and I should make a personal Tumblr which I think I have but dont remember shit about.

Ive been having severe, and I mean severe as fuck mental and emotional breakdowns because of the fact that its literally been almost a year (Its going to be a year October 29th) since I've had to put down Ice Cube, my ESA of 14.5 years. He had cancer in his cheek and it was placed right to where it would effect his quality of life severely negatively if we tried to surgically take it out, and he would possibly die on the table if we did it because of his age, and he was declining (He wasn't eating, he was drinking, he really wasnt eating as much as I wanted him to, he was spitting back up the pills I was giving him, he was suffering) and my mental and emotional health has been severely suffering each and every day that passes without him.

I have another cat, I got him in April, thinking I was alright. Which I was I guess. Im being reminded via FB memories and just my own fucked up brain wanting me to join him to where I'm legit giving myself until December 31st, 2023 to have someone. Anyone give me a fucking sigh to keep on living. Im going to be going through a program my friend suggested to make a will, making her I forgot the words she used but shes going to make sure that my will is listened to and Albert Whisker, the cat I have now is taken care of.

I cant keep on living, and the fact that this heartbreak is fucking me up so badly to the point where the large baggie of medications (ranging from insomnia medications to Very STRONG painkillers and such, as well as my daily medications the day of me going to attempt) is very tempting to take now. And I mean very tempting. Meaning I almost took it yesterday, after my first mental break and me physically hurting myself by slamming a brush ungodly hard into my head because I legit believe I deserve everything that has happened to me (The physical, emotional and mental abuse that I got for 20 some odd years from my mother, the severe car accident from last year, the rapes, everything. My friends being murdered or dying around me, loosing the only thing that even brought light to my life).

No one in my life cares. No one seems to care. Ive been severely struggling and each time IVe even bothered to reach out for help via friends. Since my father hates me for being trans and my sister doesnt give a fuck to even bother to help me. My mother was the cause of my two rapes/sexual assaults in my life and wants me dead because Im autistic. No one wants to help, or no one seems interested in even keeping me around.

Cosplay isnt helping. Video games aren't either. I havent felt any happiness since last year. I could deal with this if he was still alive. But at the same time Im lying to myself, I havent known what made me happy other than my past cat Ice Cube. I stayed for him since I love him. I had him since he was five weeks old. We bonded. Its not the case with Albert and I feel he loves me but we dont have the connection and never will.

Im never going to feel anything other than severe misery and depression. At least, that's what I 100% believe.

TLDR: Im severely struggling and dont know what to do anymore. I dont trust my new therapist even though she has stated more than once and my friend who also goes to her has stated more than once she wont send me to inpatient or CPAP and she tries to avoid hospitalization if we can. But because of multiple decades of PTSD, abuse, and being denied the proper treatment, help, support from friends and family that I should of gotten Im at the point where Im giving myself until December 31st to find a reason to stay alive and if I dont then Im letting my queue run out.

[followthebluebell]

Hi there! About a week ago I got a two month old puppy (a pomsky, so cute! ♡) I was thinking of trying to train her to be an emotional support animal, is there any advice or resources you could point me to to help me do so?

aww that sounds super cute! <3

ok, before i really delve into this topic, i want to cover the differences between an ESA, a service dog, and a therapy animal. This is specifically about the US, even more specifically about California. Different countries may have different standards and I know different states have different laws about service animal accessibility.

So, an emotional support animal (ESA) is a pet with a job. They don't have to do anything in particular. Their job is to Simply Exist, and that's a pretty important job. They don't have access rights (ie, you can't just bring them everywhere you go unless pets are specifically allowed) but they do have housing rights. Pet-free housing has to make an exception for ESAs. Personally, I think every emotional support dog should complete basic obedience training at the very least, because that's just part of dog ownership.

There's no registry or certification for ESAs. Any online certification or registry you see is an outright SCAM. Please don't support them. All that's required is a letter from your therapist/mental health professional (which has to be kept up to date, btw) that says your mental/emotional health benefits from having an emotional support animal. And even that is only required for housing reasons. In the US, ESAs are exempt from paying pet fees with regards to housing.

you can just... call your dog an ESA.

A therapy animal is specifically trained for therapy in a public setting (ie, hospitals, hospice homes, etc). Some programs exist to train them specifically. These animals have to go through specific training to ensure they are calm and confident around strangers since their literal job is 'give comfort to this stranger'.

They typically go through a veterinarian's assessment and, again, you won't find any reputable online 'therapy dog certification' programs. Again, these are scams. Therapy dogs DO have to complete certifications through an actual program to be recognized.

Therapy dogs don't have public access rights either or reduced/waived housing fees. They are not service dogs.

There's a lot of cross-over between therapy dogs and facility dogs. Facility dogs are generally attached to specific facilities, like schools, health care facilities, or courthouses. They're typically handled by professionals, while therapy dogs are usually owner handled. Therapy dogs are generally privately owned dogs that volunteer their time with a specific organization and visit different places.

Finally, you've got service dogs. Right off the bat, I want to point out that, for the first time, I'm specifically saying 'service DOG' and not 'service ANIMAL'. This is because, in the US, the only service animals recognized are dogs and miniature horses (usually used for mobility work since they live a lot longer than dogs). No other animal can qualify as a service animal in the USA. Just those two species.

Service dogs are medical equipment. They are specifically trained to assist their disabled handler in day-to-day living. As medical equipment, they have public access rights (ie, they can go to the grocery store or school with their handler). These dogs go through extremely rigorous training to ensure they are calm, confident, and comfortable in public settings. The training tends to be pretty expensive both in time and money. It can take up to two years to fully train a service dog and they can wash out at any time. The drop-out rate for service dogs is somewhere between 50-70%.

Service dogs can perform all kinds of tasks. The most commonly known ones are probably guide dogs, but there are also hearing dogs, mobility dogs, medical alert dogs (this is where most of Truffle's tasks are), autism service dogs, and psychiatric service dogs.

Where I live, it's fully legal for an owner to self-train their service dog. Service dogs in training also have access rights in my state. Mileage may vary there, because some states don't allow that access except to certain dog training programs.

Once again, online registries and certification programs are a scam. In the US, there's no registration or certification for service dogs. Some counties may provide service dog tags, but these aren't required anywhere. Service dogs also aren't required to wear vests or anything that identifies them as service dogs.

Service dogs don't have UNLIMITED access rights--- service dogs aren't permitted in sterile rooms, for example, or areas where their presence would be an undue hardship (like a walk-in aviary in a zoo is fully in their rights to deny service dogs entry, since their presence could upset the birds). If a service dog is being disruptive or destructive, they can absolutely be required to leave.

anyway, that's a lot of words to say if you want your dog to be an ESA, I recommend finding a nice dog positive reinforcement training class and enrolling. While your dog is a puppy, just... let them be a puppy for a while and don't take their training too seriously. Get into some fun puppy socialization classes. The worst thing I ever did to my dog was make him grow up too fast.

your dog is a literal baby right now. he's gonna have a baby brain for a while. he's gonna be silly so just enjoy that while it lasts. There's no timeline for him to complete.

At the very least, I think pet dogs should be able to complete the Canine Good Citizenship (CGC), so that's a solid place to start.

The AKC (American Kennel Club) has some pretty good resources on that, since it's their test and all. And I'm a big fan of puppy culture in general, since it puts a lot of emphasis on socializing your dog with unfamiliar situations.

[melonsharks]

ok i cant stop going back and starign at your teacher au and i have to ask if u have any more info or hc for it bc i love it so much (also the way benrey stares at gordon in the first pic for it is so beautiful)

:) Hehe Im so glad somebody asked about this! I have a few more drawings for it in the works but I don't mind talking about it! Ill ramble under the cut, itll be long (sorry in advance!)

Black Mesa Kindergarten itself, for starters, is a sketchy ass place. Like. Its known for somehow producing really successful STEM students for one reason or another and like there are some weird going-ons.

Its an incomprehensible mess of a school with a disembodied automated voice that speaks over the PA, a principal who seems to disappear and reappear at will, the student counselor who has a giant dog, a janitor who might be an alien, a chemistry teacher for some reason who wont stop setting shit on fire, a pe class taught by an old guy with funny lookin' arms, and a totally normal guy whos just trying to get through the day so he can go home to his 8 year old son and eat pizza or something.

Gordon was a student there back in the day... He managed to get a good gig as a teacher :] He's generally very good with kids, at guiding them and like he shows plenty of patience (for the kids at least) BUT he curses SO much. Like WAY too much for someone who spends so much time around 5 year olds. SO, he has a system. There is a CURSE JAR in his classroom. Every time he curses he puts a quarter in there and every quarter funds an end of the semester pizza party for the kids. He ends up using really elaborate fake curses like "FUUUUUngal infections" a lot.

They have a class lizard. Its name is Peeper. The kids accidentally call it Peepee so much. Gordon keeps getting in trouble for it. He's trying so hard.

Tommy is the school counselor and he is so belovED by the school forreal. Sunkist is his lovely ESA / therapy dog and she wears a vest and everybody loves her and its wonderful. He likes helping the kids work through problems and he is good at providing comfort and getting the kids to talk in the first place... Sunkist really helps though, idk just having her around is Enough sometimes. Perfect Dog Thingzzz.

Coomer is the gym teacher and he is so STRONG and fun and cool !!! He is really weird, like SO weird, but he can benchpress the kids and they think its so cool, and his presence is comforting and he likes to be helpful and makes PE fun. He was around when GORDON was going to school there as a babie, so Gordon has the fondest memories of him and sees him as like. A father figure for sure.

Bubby is. Um. Ok, nobody knows why he is there or how he got hired. He's a science teacher, Gordon thinks? He teaches chemistry, not because he was HIRED to, just because he wants to. Lots of things explode. Lots of things catch fire. The kids have no complaints, its always concentrated on him, Gordon has to really keep an eye on him for the most part HEJDHSJ

And then there is Benrey... Benrey is a janitor. I didnt make them a security guard specifically so Forzen could be one, which idK is maybe silly, but Benrey probably USED to be a security guard w Forzen and now. Isn't. Its no big deal. They got this huuuge crush on Gordon (obviously) and will typically use any excuse to irritate him and be around him, even if it means interrupting his classes to empty out already empty trash buckets in the classroom...

They're not like amazing with kids (they r awkward as hell around them), but the kids think they are so weird and cool. And...mm. There is something deeply wrong with them. They can't quite put their fingers on it... Its probably no big deal.

For other less thought out things, Forzen is an aforementioned security guard, Darnold works in the cafeteria, and G-man is the principal. They have a rival school, Aperture Kindergarten. Joshua USED to go here, but he's 8 presently so he is just in a regular school now. He is missed everyday... The science team is his extended family too :] He loves and misses them all dearly.

[moka-suwi]

1: Sleen

The Special Operations Division of the Department of Floaters handles unusual situations for which there are no standard operating procedures. [...] It's almost guaranteed that something will go catastrophically wrong on a SOD mission. There's a reason the acronym is "SOD." — Revised Handbook of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, 2010.

The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. Lightning from a clear sky belongs to Systlin. The Gor Chronicles belongs to John Norman.

Everything was quiet in Response Center 8. Well, no, not quite; the room was filled with the whirring of computer fans, which Mallory used as a meditation aid and Anis had quickly learned to tune out. Rather, it was quiet in the way that the Narrative Laws loved to interrupt.

[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]

Mal let out a brief shriek as she startled off her bed, which brought a chortle out of Anis as the two of them got to the console; Mal was the first to get to the mute button, grabbing her glasses to read the screen. The two of them stared at the Intelligence briefing on the screen for a good few seconds, before both spoke up, somehow at the same time.

“What the fuck is Gor?”

Unfamiliar as they were with the source material, the report sounded pretty damning. No DoI spy had managed to stomach the graphic violence and cartoonish evil of the fic for more than a couple chapters; the main character was so ridiculously overpowered as to narrow the agent selection down to ESAS or SOD; and the sheer speed at which the Suefic gained popularity – even some spin-offs! – certainly implied something very Special. The report even noted that Mal and Anis weren’t the first to have gotten assigned this fic, but the previous team, chosen for their familiarity with the Gor continuum, refused to touch it with a fifty-foot pole. It was clearly just that much of a canon-wreck, and they had to get going now.

“It’s going to be a long one,” said Anis as the team started packing their gear. “They say coffee is really rare in that continuum, so I don’t think we’ll, uh—”

“Be able to dump the grounds, so better bring cans. Got it!” the girl replied with a chuckle as she crouched down to reach the minifridge. Anis rolled their eyes, but took the energy drinks (and the last two cans of cold-brew coffee) Mal handed them, stuffing them into the backpack without protest. Mal continued: “What’s the disguise situation?”

Anis glanced at the console. “Don’t think we’ll need one. I’ll just set default clothes for the setting, we’ll see how that goes.”

“What the fuck is that?”

Somehow, Anis’s outfit left even less to the imagination than Mallory’s, which was an impressive feat to say the least. The “shirtless (and only not pantsless if you’re British) barbarian” look was not exactly suited to the redhead's five feet and a generously rounded-up inch of “Well, I work out, but not for the looks, you know.” They were trying to find literally anything to look at that wasn’t Mal, who decided it was probably wiser not to look down – the feeling of the breeze on her body, and the chafing of the pack against her back, told her precisely as much as she felt the psychic fortitude to know.

She had to admit the fur boots at least looked pretty nifty on them, though.

“Please tell me we brought a DORKS,” she said. If Anis could have averted their gaze any more, they probably would have. “… We’ll just loot something from somewhere.” Thankfully, the narrative began its course, and the agent unfocused their eyes to read out the Words to their partner.

There have been many Ubaras in the history of Gor. Indeed, even today there are many, who rule this city or that land, sometimes alone and sometimes alongside mates. Our own beloved Ubara of Turia is well known as a fair and just lady, and a great patron of the sciences. But forever when the words “The Great Ubara” are uttered, there will be no doubt as to who they refer to. She came from nowhere, and in her hands she brought power, and it was that very night that the beginning of the time of the Great Burning of the Whips commenced… -Sansha, scholar of the Tower of Tyra, history division, 537 AGU (After the Great Ubara.) Excerpt from her work “The Great Ubara; the coming of Systlin, the Warrior, Lady of Swords, Lady of Burning Whips, and the ending of the slave culture of Gor.”

Anis whistled. “Well that sure sounds OP.”

“If your OC gets her own epoch,” Mal acquiesced, “you might wanna tone things down a bit.”

That was when the agents noticed the woman lying prone in the grass nearby – manifestly their target. They crouched to avoid detection somewhat, though they suspected they didn’t have much to worry about, as the Somebody Else’s Problem field worked even better the more improbable-looking one was: the well-known “You know what, I won’t even ask” principle. The pair watched as Systlin tried several times to stand up, muttering insults to herself and eventually getting up on her knees, thankfully looking directly away from them.

Something was niggling at the back of her mind, sending little alarm bells up. Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong!!! "Of bloody course something's wrong." She muttered this to herself. "Bloody fuck am I?"

Given their proximity, and the Sue’s claimed combat skills, Anis resorted to whispering. “Something’s wrong, something’s wrong… Think she’s picking up her own presence?”

Mal stifled a laugh, as their target stood up and made a few careful jumps. “The gravity’s lower,” Anis informed their partner after a quick look at the Words. They read ahead a bit, and turned back to Mal with a look of concern. “Did we bring Me?”

The woman’s eyes widened— “I am going to flay whoever did this to me alive,“ a tiny voice spoke, muffled by her backpack, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The Protectors of the Plot Continuum typically used Crash Dummies: lifesize inflatable dolls that had a sort of pataphysical pull to them, preventing unwitting agents from being dragged along by subjectively narrated sections of a fic. While useful if the entire work is first- or second-person, the pair had grown tired of carrying a bulky cube, or even worse, a fully inflated dummy whenever it wasn’t needed. As such, they had invented me. I am Me, a poppet that pulls the point of view towards myself whenever the narrative needs; Anis provided the theory along with some narrativemancy, and Mal added the razzle dazzle in true Serpent’s Hand fashion. I might not be as heavy-duty as a Crash Dummy, but under lighter loads, I’ll do the job just fine!

“Formatting error, I think,” Anis whispered. “That wasn’t in italics.” Mal nodded, her eyes fixated on the two men who had just shown up on… Horse-cat-back?

The agents backed away as the riders circled Systlin; they didn’t seem to notice their presence at all, probably because they didn’t have much of a character aside from their role as generic villains to be quickly disposed of. They spoke, in a way that the narrative helpfully (and explicitly) transcribed into an understandable language.

"Wench!" The taller of the two men, riding a mount of a handsome bay, was looking her up and down in a way that raised her hackles. "Look here! A wench who thinks herself of warrior caste!"

Mal rolled her eyes. She spoke, slightly louder than a whisper to compensate for all the dramatic low-fantasy shouting happening next to the agents. “Strong female character beats up misogynistic men, teaches them a lesson, patriarchy: destroyed.”

“Some weird kinks going on there too,” Anis added. “Though I could already uh, guess that.”

“Do you think the author’s got the kinks, or is she, I dunno, getting back at—”

And then, for lack of a better short summary, Systlin started killing everyone.

“I admit,” Anis said, “she’s got good form with that sword. I think the author’s done some martial aaAGH—” The redhead dove away from a suddenly appearing pillar of fire. Mal lay down next to them, not wanting to take any risks of being detected by such an incineration-happy individual.

Her head throbbed. She should not have called on her Power so much so quickly, but she'd been angry.

Anis didn’t exactly seem in the mood for snark, so Mal stepped in. “Forgive me master, but just this once… And that once… And yeah also gotta explode this guy too while we’re at it…”

The pair watched on as Systlin walked over to the other man, who was trapped under the corpse of his steed.

"SLEEN! Whore! Witch! Misbegotten sleen spawn!" "I am one of those." Systlin agreed. She crouched over him, near his head. "And I made a promise to you." She raised her knife, and smiled. "You should not have called me 'wench."

The agents could only watch as the Sue took a dagger to the man’s tongue, cutting it off and setting it on his chest. She then carefully wiped the blade on the dead horse-thing’s fur, stood there pondering for a moment, and simply walked away. Once they were fairly sure to be out of sight, they went over to check on the rider – already dead.

“Fuck. That was… Fuck.” Mal closed her eyes, muttering a prayer under her breath.

When she opened them back up, Anis was in the process of stripping the body of its clothes. “Listen,” they said. “I’m sorry, but you need something more covering than this atrocity.”

Mal looked down at the blood-soaked tunic and trousers Anis was handing her. Then further down at the, essentially, two pieces of translucent red fabric she was wearing. She wordlessly took the clothes. As she changed, she tried to focus her mind on something – anything else, especially if it had something to do with the mission. She found that she had one question on her mind.

“What the fuck is a sleen?”

While Systlin walked, the agents could simply portal ahead. They entered what appeared to be a camp of wagons – apparently some sort of steppe nomads. As they hid in one of the many dark corners that tend to spontaneously appear in pulp fantasy, Anis relayed what was going on in the Words.

“She’s walking right now, apparently the gravity makes it a lot easier – wants her horse back, though, relatable – Oh! Flashback. Don’t do it, it’s suicide, you forget who— oh, what I am.” They put on their best approximation of a deep boomy voice. “Breaker. More OP magic I think, she could just blow up the whole camp. Anyway she’s gonna fight a bunch more guys now. All-Father that’s some dogshit writing coming up.”

Mal’s head perked up. “Wait, like, noticeably?”

“Yeah, the narrative switches to first person and the quality seriously tanks. I did not expect what I did see, which was a woman.”

“Yeesh.” My voice was indeed coming through, very weak and muffled, from the backpack. “Wait, who’s the PoV, then?”

“Some guy, don’t think we’ve got a name yet. He’s… Augh.”

Mal was already cringing. “Do I want to know?”

Anis shook their head. “No, but I’m telling you anyway. It occurred to me that she was attractive, if far too muscular for Gorean tastes.”

A shudder. “Wan Mēkhanḗ. Only way that’s redeemable is as a ‘this guy is evil’ kinda thing, but for a viewpoint character…?”

“One can hold out hope. Anyway, another man insults her – they’re not very creative. She killed— Fifteen?”

Mal smirked. “Patriarchy: destroyed.” She stuck out her tongue at Anis. “So do they just stand there waiting for their turn on the getting murdered, or…?”

“Nah, she wants them to take her to their leader, I thi—”

“Hey!” A deep voice rang out behind the two agents. “Who are you, and why is this wench dressed in—” They turned to find a muscular barely dressed man, of the kind that were apparently a dime a dozen around here. He paused upon seeing the dark stains on Mallory’s shirt. “Is— Is that—”

FLASH.

“You were having a walk in the camp, in which you saw absolutely nothing of note. No weirdly dressed bloodsoaked people of any kind, and no one murdered fifteen— Oh! Seventeen people with uncanonical magic. You’re going to go back to your tent and have a nice refreshing nap.”

“… Mal, you can open your eyes now, you know.”

Next chapter

Lightning From A Clear Sky belongs to Tumblr user systlin. The Gor universe belongs to John Norman.

[stxleslyds]

Hello! How are you? I've got two questions. Are you from Argentina? (Porque esa frase de las empanadas sonó muy de acá SJNDD)

And, could you recommend comics where Jason is well written? I want to know him better, but people always recommend me RHATO and I'm not a fan of that

Thank you ❤️

Holissss! Todo tranqui, vos? Nop, yo soy uruguaya! La frase de las empanadas te juro que la tenia guardada para usarla en un post de Jason y Nick Robles me dio la oportunidad perfecta!

Oof, they have recommended you RHatO? I hope it was RHatO Rebirth at the very least… If I were you, I will completely avoid RHatO New 52, that run was extra bad and in the end if you have read the Rebirth version already, you have officially suffered enough.

Now, if you have read New 52 RHatO then I am sorry… but I will suggest also avoiding Red Hood/ Arsenal, the pain isn’t worth it.

The books or issues where I think Jason has been really well written are the following:

As Robin:

Batman vol.1 #408 to #425 and Detective Comics #568 to #582. (#408 was the issue in which Jason’s origin was changed post-crisis, I would recommend reading from there)

Batman: the Cult, I have heard great things about this story but I haven’t read it yet! Comics from the 80s have never been easy for me to read.

Batman: A Death in the Family, the story that killed our sweet Jason, but it is important to read it because it shows how Jason really died.

New Teen Titans vol.2 #18 to #21 and #26 to 31, Jason teams up with the Titans two separate times, the first time he has some amazing moments with Donna and in the second one he is also amazing and he has some interactions with Dick!

Superman vol.1 Annual #11, this is the issue where he first meets Diana and he saves the day (mostly) by himself!

As Red Hood:

Batman: Under the Red Hood, this is the best work that has Jason as Red Hood, and this is his (actually) big come back to comics.

Batman vol.1 Annual #25, if you want to know how Jason came back to life.

Green Arrow vol.3 #69 to #72, if you want to see Jason after the events of Under the Red Hood!

Outsiders vol.3 #44 to #46, if you want to see more of Jason after UtRH and actually well written interactions with Dick after all that… (Only read Nightwing: Brothers in Blood if you are prepared for some absolute garbage writing with little funny bits)

Red Hood: Lost Days, essential reading if you want to see how Jason came to be the Red Hood!

(All of these books/issues (except for Brothers in Blood) were written by the best Jason writer to this date, Judd Winick!)

Now is where we enter Rebirth (no New 52 books will be recommended in this house when it comes to Jason)

Red Hood and the Outlaws vol.2 #1 to #26

Red Hood: Outlaw vol.1 #27 to #52

(I put these in the list so you don’t feel lost, and this is the best that we have had of Jason up until…)

What the Hell is Task Force Z, Detective Comics #1041 to #1043, this is a side story in these Detective Comics issues, that act as a prelude to the upcoming comic run, Task Force Z, where Jason is going to be leading a team of undead villains. These issues as well as the upcoming run is written by Matthew Rosenberg! (Someone that has written an actually funny and competent Jason Todd in this day and age!)

Task Force Z, it hasn’t come out yet but I am already recommending it, I do believe this book will be well written! Let’s just hope I am right!

-

That would be all, at least everything that I remember right now…

Oh! I have some posts about some of these books/issues, if you want me to link them, tell me in the asks and I will do it!

Espero que tangas un excelente finde!

[beauvibaby]

always together, but not really – r.hintz

“Miro.” You threatened, he hadn’t admitted to you that some of his teammates would also be at the bar until right before he dragged you inside. “Y/N.” He mimicked, his accent strong and slightly mispronouncing your name. “If Roope is here, I’m leaving.” You demanded, digging your feet down, he gave you a light tug to get you moving again. “Why do you hate him?” Miro teased you, knowing it wasn’t like that at all, quite the opposite actually, but after a very drunk make out session with Roope and then him hardly speaking to you after that. It forced you to create distance even though you wanted to close the gap.

“Please, not tonight.” You sighed, shooting your friend a pleading look, he gave in, seeing the tiredness around your eyes after a long week at work, “fine, he’s here but you don’t have to talk.” He muttered, tucking you under his arm as he walked, you sighed in relief, thanking him as he ordered you a drink. “Hey, Y/N.” Tyler grinned, nudging you as you approached, “hey.” You mirrored his smile, it was no secret that you’d had it rough this week, as Miro had answered your panicked phone call last night and didn’t get a chance to tell you it was on speaker before you started rambling in the midst of tears. You’d met him right when he came to Texas, you offered to help him with his English and a friendship blossomed from there. He was easily your closest friend, as most of the girls your age would just use you to become close to the guys. It was a shame really, but they all loved you like a sister so who were they to complain.

Miro muttered about going to see the others and left you with Tyler, laughing as you rolled your eyes. You’d seen Tyler mature a lot in the past couple of years, and it simply grew your trust and respect for him. “How ya doing?” He asked, sitting on the stool beside you as you sipped on your fruity drink. You shrugged, “better, just frustrated you know.” You explained vaguely, it had just been one of those times where if everything could go wrong, it would. You were on the tail end of it now, finally, so you were trying to let it go, but it was sweet that all the guys had been worried about you. Some of them even threatening to fight your boss, jokingly of course, or so you hoped…

“Such a tough cookie.” Tyler quipped, messing up your hair, “hands off, Seguin!” You gasped, blindly smoothing out the hair he had tousled, he snickered as he slinked off back to the group, giving you know choice but to come socialize, or sit at the bar alone. Which he knew you hated. “Jerk.” You muttered, pinching the back of his arm as you walked past him, you settled into a flow with Esa and Jason. Talking nonsense and jokes, you could feel eyes on the back of your head, and before you knew it, you were nearly all alone again. Just you and Esa speaking as everyone wandered off doing their own things, “Roope.” You mumbled with a nod, acknowledging him as he stepped over, he moved his hand in a small wave, not really speaking as Esa trailed off. “Uh, I think Tyler’s looking for me.” He mumbled before dashing away, you were on your second drink of the night, not very tipsy, but the edge had been removed certainly.

“How’s work?” He asked, and you took it as a jab, you gave him a blank stare, “are you serious?” You questioned, standing up straighter, he furrowed his brows, “yes?” He tilted his head, slightly confused as he nursed his beer. “Oh, shit, wait wait, nevermind.” Roope looked like a light went on in his brain, “Miro told me.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. You nodded silently, “sorry.” You laughed under your breath, not wanting him to think of you as rude. He shrugged it off, the two of you having the most conversation you’d had in weeks.

***

“Oh.” You paused, walking into your apartment, and seeing the shoes in your entryway. “Miro, I said the key was for emergencies only.” You called, a laugh at the end, you walked towards the living room, stopping as it was Roope sitting there and not Miro, “Roope? How did you get in?” You gasped, he was scrolling on his phone, and didn’t answer you, you stepped closer and noticed the earbuds in his ears. You smirked, taking your heel from work and lightly tossing it at his back, laughing as he shouted, flying up off the couch. Arm craned back like he was ready to punch someone. “It’s just me.” You managed to get out between laughs, he shook his head, taking the earbuds out. “How did you get in here?” You asked again, “Miro let me in, he said he needed help putting something up for you? I don’t know, but when we got here he got a call that his apartment was flooding.” Roope explained, nearly out of breath from how you’d scared him. Your face fell into understanding, and an inaudible aw fell from your lips as you realized Miro wasn’t joking when he said he’d help you move the furniture in your room around. Something you’d been wanting to do for a while but never had the time or the help.

“He drove you here didn't he?” You asked, meaning Roope didn’t have an immediate way to leave, “yeah.” Roope chuckled nervously, not sure what you were getting at. “Could you help me then? I’m pretty sure this is why he had you here anyways.” You shrugged, motioning for him to follow you towards your bedroom, he hesitated, but when you glanced back at him with a soft, pleading smile, he began to walk right behind you.

“So,” you started, going on to explain to him what you wanted to do, he nodded along, agreeing when you would end something with a hum, looking for approval. He had no idea what he was talking about, he didn’t care where his furniture was, as long as there was a bed and a tv he was fine. But he could tell you were thrilled, with him no less, when he agreed to help you. He watched as you rushed off to grab something to change into, not very flexible in your office attire, he wandered around your room as you changed in the bathroom.

His eyes landed on your bed, and how clean and crisp it was, much like you, always put together even in the most stressful of times. He looked to the wall, the only wall where you had things hanging, mostly photos scattered around random signs, he couldn’t help but smile as he spotted one of you and Miro from a few years back, he’d always thought you were pretty, but now as he looked at you then, and at you now. He knew you had only gotten more stunning, he turned around when you cleared your throat, “you done looking at my stuff?” You teased, he felt whatever tension he had leave his body at your words. The most normal you had treated him since before he drunkenly kissed you, something he regretted because you deserved better. He wanted to give you better.

“Sorry.” He laughed, “so, where do we start?”

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, Roope following suit, “that took a lot longer than I thought it would.” You mumbled into your mattress, Roope laughed as he took the chance to glance over at you. He thought to himself, about how he couldn’t think of a time when he was in a girls room, in her bed, without it being for sex. He thought of how this felt more intimate as you two shared conversations and laughed over how he couldn’t understand your directions. You flipped over and he quickly looked back to the ceiling, “thanks for helping, dinners on me.” You offered, feeling heat run through your body as he smiled over at you. “It’s ok, you don’t have to do that.” He mumbled, his fingers brushing against yours on the bed, neither of you moved your hands, you let your head fall to the side, smile widening as he stared into your eyes. “What?” You whispered, feeling him slide his hand over yours, easily surrounding it. “Y/N, shit I’m sorry, I was trying to surprise– oh.” Miro shouted rushing to find you as he entered the apartment and saw you’d already come from work. He froze in the doorway as you and Roope leaped apart as if you were doing something wrong, “you moved everything.” He spoke, trying to keep you from feeling awkward.

Roope nodded, “uh yeah, it’s the least I could do since she came home and found me hanging out in her place, because you ditched me.” Roope joked with his friend, you laughed in agreement. “So, your apartment flooded?” You changed the subject, laughing as Miro now fell dramatically on your bed, complaining about how they’d called the wrong apartment owner.

***

A famous Tyler Seguin end of the season house party, only this time a little bit more together due to his girlfriend helping him. You laughed with some of the girls as the guys roughed it up outside, never failing to amaze you how they weren’t beat after a whole season of playing. “So, Y/N, has Roope made a move yet?” Alandra asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you, an exasperated sigh fell from your lips as you filled them in on everything. They nodded along, occasionally putting in their two cents, by the time you’d finished the guys were getting rowdy and begging you to come do something with them, everyone went to their significant others, and you bounced around with whoever was single currently. “Roope is looking at you.” Miro quipped, looking past you, you glanced over your shoulder and smiled at Roope, he mirrored the action, winking at you. Miro gaped at the sight, “don’t tell me he doesn’t like you anymore.” Miro rolled his eyes, all but shoving you towards his friend. You glared but proceeded to walk towards Roope, casually jumping into conversation with him and Rads. Roope smiled down at you, as the time went by and you casually stepped closer to him. He could see the way you would shiver as the breeze came through. Eventually he lightly put his arm over your shoulder, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart racing as you leaned against him, welcoming the warmth he was providing you.

Somewhere along the way, you two had ended up on the large outdoor couch, Alandra on the other side of you, her feet occasionally nudging you as you started drifting in and out, you smacked her ankle away, glaring lightly, she smirked as you rested your hand on Roope’s leg, your eyes falling shut. He adjusted his arm so you’d be more comfortable, “it’s ok, rakas, you can sleep.” He whispered when no one was looking. The pet name, that you’d heard before when Miro was speaking, made your heart flutter. You sighed in content as his fingers absentmindedly drew shapes on your back, lulling you to sleep.

***

That was a week ago, and you had thought things were going good, but then after that night, Roope pulled away again. At this point you weren't upset, you were angry, wanting answers to why he was playing with your emotions like that. That’s what led to you knocking loudly on his door early one morning, you could hear him cursing as he stumbled to the door. “Y/N?” He spoke, confused as you stormed inside the second the door was open, “I need to know why you keep doing this!” You groaned, pulling at your hair, he lightly shut the door, holding in a sigh, afraid this is what would happen as he couldn’t decide how to just tell you he liked you. “You can’t just call me darling, and let me sleep on you and then just stop talking to me! It isn’t fair Roope.” You rushed your words out, he nodded, stepping closer to you, “it’s not fair! It hurts me, I just need to know if I mean something to you.” He frowned at your words, lightly cupping your face, “don’t cry, rakas.” He whispered, “Roope.” You cautioned, trying to pry yourself from his hands, but you couldn’t, it felt too nice.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I did that, I was dumb. I should have just told you that I liked you from the beginning, but then we kissed and I thought you deserved better. Then we started seeing each other more and–“ “you like me?” You cut him off, placing your hands over his wrists, his hands still resting on your face, he went to move them back but you held him in place. “Do you like me Roope?” You whispered, he nodded, not breaking his eyes from yours. “I like you too.” You told him, just to make sure he got it in that thick head of his, “and I’d really like it if you asked me out, finally.” You could barely finish as he pulled you in for a kiss, smiling against you as it was even better than he remembered. “Wanna go out sometime?” He breathed out, eyes crinkling as you dipped your head back in laughter. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo

[seventhrounder]

I went thru my folder with old hockey magazines I had saved from around 2011 to 2015 and came across this one and thought it could be a fun to make a post about now in hindsight.

This is Jääkiekko magazine from May 2012, they always have a section of "99 questions with ..." and in this issue they interviewed Teräväinen.

I’ve translated the questions I found interesting under the cut! It ended up being about half of the interview. (*) are my additions.

On the cover "seuraava superjokeri" means the next super joker, he played for Helsingin Jokerit so it's a word play from that. Under, on the blue print it says: "The 17-year-old forward will become a first round draft pick in the summer. The natural goal scorer can dominate in SM-Liiga as soon as next season."

In the 2nd photo the headline and lead paragraph goes:

"A post with dents* - A year ago Teuvo Teräväinen was known only within a small number of hockey insiders. Few passers-by recognize him now either but after a flashy rookie season the Jokerit sensation is on the radar of every NHL team and is a strong contender to become a first round draft pick. Next season with Jokerit the talented second line center will be one of the main talking points in the SM-Liiga."

(*references the net Teräväinen had in his backyard and into which he practiced his shooting)

3. You've been described as a magician, top scorer, wunderkind and a prodigy. What do you think of these descriptions?

TT: Heh, those are some descriptions yeah. What can I really say? Don't really wanna comment on them much.

4. How nervous are you about the Draft?

TT: I try not to be nervous as best as I can. In a way I don't have anything to be nervous about since I don't care which team picks me or at what number I go.

6. Which is stressing you more, English interviews or physical tests?

TT: Maybe both. Bench press (laughs) and English interviews can be tough.

12. How far along have you planned your career with, for example, your parents or your agent?

TT: Haven't really planned things with others but I've thought about them myself. I try to go step by step and not jump too far ahead.

14. How does it feel to be so young with all the star players in Jokerit?

TT: How to say it? I haven't felt like I was young but a part of the team instead. The team's been very good with me and they haven't been looking down at me like: "oh he's young". It's been fun to play in an experienced team.

15. Is there a generational gap between players?

TT: You can see the age difference, older players look older but we're all childish, at least with our topics.

17. What does a 17-year-old do in the sauna nights of the team?

TT: I actually haven't been in any yet. I've always been at national team's camps or something.

19. Did you get the number you wanted?

TT: I did, yeah. I could've taken #18 but Semir (Ben-Amor) has it. But i'm happy with #86, it's good.

23. What are your strengths as a player?

TT: Offensive play and with that playing with the puck, passing, IQ, power play and skill, just the usual skill - skill with hands.

24. And weaknesses?

TT: They are to do with defensive play, strength and physicality. Battles and such but I think I took a step forward last season. That's a good thing.

25. Have you ever been "pressed into a mold" or has your playing style gotten to develop naturally?

TT: As a kid the play was mostly offensive/attacking, I didn't have to think about playing defence. Up until 15 years old, I got to attack pretty freely. Playing defence became more important when I started to play in A-juniors a couple seasons ago.

26. On a scale from 1 to 10 how determined are you?

TT: Maybe 8, feels like an 8.

32. What kind of role are you planning to take with Jokerit next season?

TT: I think a pretty big one. I try to be a top player and not just take others' example but give others example myself too. So that someone in the team can take something out of the way I do things on the ice and off the ice.

35. If you could pick anyone, who would be your car driver?

TT: Nico Manelius for sure. He's been my driver this season. I've had others too, like Riku Hahl but he's not nearly at the same level. Nico’s clearly the best.

36. What are the most important qualifications to be a good driver?

TT: The car is obviously important. Hahl's car is totally awful, he takes a lot of heat for it from the guys too. I wouldn't dare driving with him. Manelius is a steady performer, never lets you down.

38. What sports did you play as a 10-year-old?

TT: Hockey and floorball, probably football (soccer) during the summers at the time too.

42. When did you decide to focus only on hockey?

TT: So when I stopped playing other sports? Three years ago, before that floorball was kind of a side thing, I played a couple of games in the regular season and playoffs.

45. Do you follow floorball or other sports? Go to games?

TT: I don't go to games but I like to watch floorball on TV, it's an interesting sport. Sometimes I watch football too but I don't follow it much. Feels like they never score there.

47. Have you ever played with a wooden stick?

TT: As a kid I did play with a wooden stick.

49. You won the hockey players' golf tournament last summer even though there were more experienced players too. Are you good with all stick games?

TT: Well, I've been pretty good in all of them. I've played golf for a long time and still play it.

50. How is your swing?

TT: Pretty bold, kind of a hockey swing. I don't really care where the ball goes - as long as it goes far.

52. What do you think of off-ice training?

TT: Let's just say it's more stupid than being on the ice but you still gotta do it to be better on the ice.

56. Which word describes your professional relationship (with his coach, Tomek Valtonen), tranquil or colorful?

TT: Colorful of course. At times we're joking around, other times it's more serious but the relationship is really good.

57. Coaching you has been described in many words: good, bad, worse. What are they?

TT: Heh, well... I won't tell them here. He (Tomek) keeps the discipline during practices but sometimes when things haven't gone to a plan I've had to jump on an exercise bike in the middle of a practice.

58. What have been the reasons?

TT: I'll quote Tomek: "when I haven't been present".

59. Have you ever tried to turn the resistance of the bike to zero?

TT: (Laughs) Of course I have and sometimes I've even succeeded.

60. Describe your diet in three words?

TT: Greasy, healthy and good!

64. Your first name is not common for people your age. How did your parents come up with it?

TT: I actually don't even know. Maybe they didn't want a usual Ville*....

(*very common name for men of all ages in Finland)

66. Which of these is the most important: skill, unexpectedness or courage?

TT: Skill!

68. Your longest video game stint?

TT: Six hours, at least. I've played a lot of War of Duty lately.

72. The dumbest thing that has made you upset in hockey?

TT: Probably if I didn't get an assist on a goal even though I should have. Or even worse is if I score and they mark it down for someone else.

79. Have you had any concussions?

TT: I haven't had any, I've managed to always dodge them.*

(*ouch, tho it's good the recent one is his only as far as i remember)

84. In 2011 Team Finland finished in the 5th place at the U-18 tournament. Why only as 5th?

TT: Because we lost to Team Russia in the quarter final, just as well we could have won that game too.

89. You didn't get to be on the ice to accept the SM-Liiga bronze medal (because of the U-18's). When and where did you get it?

TT: I actually still haven't received it, I don't know where it is.

93. What is the population of Helsinki?

TT: There's like 5 million people in Finland so maybe around 500k in Helsinki? (to be exact 596k) Did i really get it right...?

94. Who's the mayor of Helsinki?

TT: I don't know, I barely know the president.

95. Do you think the municipalities in the capital city area should merge?

TT: Luckily I don't have to decide but they probably shouldn't.

96. What do you check first in the news paper?

TT: The sports section.

97. Your favorite tv show?

TT: Putous* was pretty good, I liked a lot of the characters. The grandma was pretty good.

(*Finnish live improvisation comedy/sketch show (there are still new seasons, the latest just finished). Every actor comes up with a humor character with a catchy phrase and one of them wins. "The grandma" is Marja Tyrni and I just got such flashbacks from typing this sentence.)

98. Last book you read?

TT: I don't read many books. The last book was a study book, a Finnish book. I wrote an essay on Tiki (Esa) Tikkanen's biography. An eventful book, great career and a lot of chirps.

99. Who should we ask the 99 questions next?

TT: Riku Hahl could have good stories, he's also seen a lot of the world.

[purplebass]

Hi everyone!!! I’ve finally reached another follower milestone, and I thought about celebrating with some fan fictions. I want to thank everyone who commented or suggested something to write about. I’ve tried to come up with the best ideas I could think of, and I always hope you like them! And thank you for all of your support! ✨💖

This is the first fic, and it’s post Chain of Iron. It’s a conversation between Thomas and Gideon about the former being accused of murder. 

Characters: Thomas Lightwood and Gideon Lightwood tw: mentions of murder

Thomas was angry. He was angry and annoyed because the Clave decided to give him a few days off after the recent events. He had been framed of murder, after disobeyeing them by going on patrol alone, that they believed he needed a break. How funny, he thought. There could still be someone dangerous out there… and I hate standing still.

Thomas sat on his window, thinking how he could sneak out that night to go on patrol in secret, when someone opened the door to his room. 

“Tommy,” his father called from the doorway, making him snap back to reality.

“Did something happen?” he wondered with alarm, ready to boost out of the house any moment if so. At least, he'd have a reason. 

Gideon’s face softened, and he shook his head. “No, absolutely nothing. And I hope nothing happens for a while, if you ask me.”

Thomas nodded, glancing away at a book on his desk. “We’ve had our hands too full, we need a break,” he said, underlining the last word. 

The whole shadowhunter community had suffered damages because of the serial killer he had tried to catch. Being a shadowhunter was important to Thomas, but he also valued his family a lot. He still wished he could have done something to help his sister Barbara. And perhaps, deep in his heart, he knew that the true reason he had set himself on a lonely series of night patrolling, was to avenge her. He wanted justice for Barbara, but he was aware it was not possible, and that revenge oftentimes ended with further bloodshed and not a satisfying resolution.

His father walked further into the room, nearing him by the window. “Yes, we do,” Gideon agreed. “Especially you, Thomas.”

“Me?” he asked accusingly, then cursed himself for it. He didn’t want to get angry at his father, even if his father shared the conviction that he needed a break. “I’m not tired. On the other hand, this event only made me realize that I should keep my guard up.”

“They accused you of murder, Tommy,” his father replied gently. There was a far away expression on his face. “Believe me, I know what it means when you feel like everything is wrong, but you still feel that it’s right. I’ve been there.”

“And? If you want to know whether or not I was okay being framed, of course I’m not. Yet -”

“Yet, what? If we hadn’t found the real culprit and Inquisitor Bridgestock would have sent you to the Silent City, wouldn’t you have said anything?”

“I don’t think he would have,” he answered. “I knew I wasn’t the murderer.”

“Nobody ever thought you were behind this,” Gideon said with exasperation. “We often think that we are doing the right thing. And, by any means, I understand where you were coming from. But, son,” he paused and put his hand on his shoulder, “others may not understand our reasons. In someone else’s eyes, the motives that pushed us to do that very thing are out of this world for them.” 

“I wasn't breaking any law by walking alone at night.”

“You’re right, you weren’t,” his father agreed. “But it was still irresponsible, Thomas. There was a murderer out there and you went after them without thinking about the consequences."

Thomas sighed. There was someone outside who was walking their dog. He wished he had a dog right now, as an excuse. He knew his father was right, but a part of him still refused to acknowledge that he had been, indeed, very stupid to go after a murderer by himself. He wouldn't say it, though. 

"Someone had to do it," he muttered to himself, hoping his father wouldn't catch it. 

No chance. "Why that someone had to be you?" 

"Why not me?" 

His father didn't get it, and that made him feel more angry. Had he been too rash? Stubborn? Perhaps. But it had been worth it. His thoughts drifted back to the day in the sanctuary, and he bit his lip in frustration. 

"You are a good boy, Tom," Gideon replied, patting his shoulder affectionately. 

"I thought you were cross, papa," Thomas looked in his direction. They were almost the same height, but only because he was still perched on the windowsill. 

"Not really." He frowned, not mentioning that he would have probably done the same thing, if he were his age. Thomas replied with a frown of his own. "But I'm worried." 

"I'm an adult now," he replied with confidence. 

"Even adults need someone to look after them."

Thomas wanted to say that it wasn't completely true. That sometimes, adults were more immature than teenagers, that the teenagers had to take over and be adults before their time. Luckily for him, he never had to, but not everyone could say the same. 

"I wanted to make things right," he then said, replying to his father's last question. "That's why I wanted to catch the killer." 

Gideon nodded. "Just be careful, Tommy." 

"I will." 

"By the way, if you want to go out, no one is stopping you." 

Thomas's eyes widened. "Am I not grounded?" 

"You said it yourself. You're an adult. The Clave may believe it necessary for you to take a break, but I'm not the Clave. I mean, in theory," he shrugged.

Thomas got off the window, almost stumbling on his feet. His father was ready to give him a hand if he'd fall, as he always was ready to help him. He got his jacket and hat and opened his door, glancing at his father one last time. 

"Be careful, Thomas," he reminded him. 

Thomas just grinned one last time and then he was out. 

He finally felt better.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Middlemen Part Two

Part One | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Reader Rating: Mature (This may change) Notes: I hope everyone is well :) Thank you for all of the likes/comments/reblogs! AU where Carrillo isn’t married; this story is set in/around Season 1 *Disculpe, señorita - Excuse me, miss **Quién es esa mujer - Who’s that woman? ***Esta buena; La conoces? - She’s hot; you know her? Warnings: Cursing; canon-typical violence Summary: What was it about Horacio Corrillo’s tone that made every question sound like a statement? Ah, you knew what it was. The deadpan delivery coupled with that expression - the one that said, ‘If it were possible for me to kill you with my eyes, you would’ve been dead five minutes ago’.

“We got a tip, we’ve gotta roll!” You looked up from the newspaper you’d been skimming when you heard Ray, your cameraman, and saw him scrambling for his bag. “Aw, fuck,” You mumbled. You’d only just gotten to the station, you hadn’t even had your coffee yet - hell, you hadn’t even put down your shit. Gene Davis, your reporter, was right behind Ray, smoothing his shirt down as if he was right about to go on camera and not get in the van. When you’d been told you’d be going down to Medellín, you’d asked your boss if there was any chance of getting a Colombian reporter, someone that would help you blend in with the locals. Your boss had chuckled as he shook his head, told you that you were thinking too small, that the whole point was to stand out. And stand out you did. Colombia was not devoid of red-heads, but they tended to draw the eye. Add Davis’ subpar accent to the mix, and he was caught out pretty quickly. Everywhere you went, Davis’ red hair and flat, American-accented Spanish was like a fucking beacon that said ‘the gringo reporters are here to talk to you’. You did your best when you were interviewing people, pulling the stories together for Gene before he had to go on camera, but people were usually distracted by him. You had an easier time asking questions when he wasn’t around. “I’m taking my bike,” You called out to Ray and Gene. That was easier. You’d get ahead, canvas the area, speak to a few people before the red-hot gringo alarm arrived on the scene. --

“What are you doing here.” What was it about Horacio Corrillo’s tone that made every question sound like a statement? Ah, you knew what it was. The deadpan delivery coupled with that expression - the one that said, ‘If it were possible for me to kill you with my eyes, you would’ve been dead five minutes ago’. “I’ll give you three guesses,” You said before nodding back toward the area that was already cordoned off by tape, “What happened?” “I’ll give you three guesses.” Your brows rose, and a surprised scoff left you. “Alright, smart guy,” You grumbled as you stepped around him. “You shouldn’t be here,” Horacio stuck close to you as you looked around. There were pools of blood on the ground, bullet casings; you could hear weeping. Your first week there, it had turned your stomach. Now, it was becoming the status quo. “You tell that to Valeria Velez, too?” You asked, eyeing the reporter that had already set up with her crew. Horacio graced you with a withering sidelong glance, and you rolled your eyes. “Taking that as a ‘no’,” You mumbled before stepping away from Horacio, walking toward the sound of the weeping. “*Disculpe, señorita,” You said quietly, crouching in front of a young woman. She was sitting on a stoop, head in her hands. She peered up at you, tear tracks cutting through the dirt on her face. You gave her a small smile, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a tissue. You offered it to her and she took it, mumbling, “Gracias.” You gave her a moment to gather herself before you began asking questions. -- Horacio lingered nearby, arms folded across his chest. He was watching his men clean up, but listening to you break down the young woman’s walls. You were gentle with her, didn’t push for answers where she was wary to give them, offered encouragement when she did give you information. You handled her with the same patience he had seen you handle his nephew with the week before. It was...Endearing, almost.

--

You thanked her for her time, gave her another tissue, then straightened, turning away from her and reaching into your bag. You pulled out a small notebook and a pen. Horacio peered over your shoulder, brows furrowed. “What are you--” “Ssh.” He went quiet and still behind you. You looked up at him a few moments later as you tucked the pen behind your ear. “What?” “...Why didn’t you just take notes while you were talking to her?” You shook your head. “People that are in distress don’t like that, they just feel like they’re being milked for info. Which, you know, they are, but I can at least pretend that they’re not.” You began to walk away from him, and you felt him fall into step beside you. “Are you just going to trail me the whole time? Because having you linger around me is actually going to make my job harder,” You stopped walking and looked up at him. You caught a flash of-- You didn’t even know what in Carrillo’s eyes; it disappeared as quickly as it arrived. “Carrillo!” You both turned your head as his name was called. You spotted two men standing by a truck - one brunette, one blond. “Gringos to the rescue,” Carrillo muttered, “Excuse me.” You watched him go, brow furrowed. Gringos to the rescue? What the hell did that mean? You didn’t have time to dwell, though; you had a job to do. -- “What happened?” Murphy asked, nodding toward the building. “Hand-off gone badly. Posion was chewing out the workers about the kilos being light,” Horacio recalled what he’d overheard the woman telling you, “He got a tip-off that we were on our way, we missed him by a few minutes.” “Shit,” Murphy sighed. “My men are still inside clearing out the lab,” Horacio added. Murphy nodded, grabbing his camera from the front seat of the car and stepping around them. “Hey,” Javier nudged Horacio’s arm with his own, lighting a cigarette before nodding over to where you were speaking to another bystander, “**Quién es esa mujer?” “La reportera,” Horacio answered stiffly. He recognized that look in Peña’s eye, saw the sweep that the other man gave your form; the last thing he wanted to have to think about was whether or not he had to protect you from Peña, too. Not that he’d be going out of his way to protect you from things - he’d followed you home that night because his mother had asked him to. “***Esta buena,” Peña muttered, “La conoces?” Horacio felt his jaw clench at the question. Could Peña focus for five minutes? “Javi!” Murphy called Javier from inside. Javier turned his head, nodding when he saw Murphy waving him in. He patted Horacio on the arm, ignorant to the tight pull of the man’s shoulders as he headed inside, expecting Horacio to follow. And follow Horacio did, but not without giving you one more look. -- You didn’t see it. You were too busy speaking with someone. You felt it, though. 

-- “I think we’ve got it,” Gene flashed you his best ‘my face was made to be on television screens’ smile, and you nodded in return. “Let’s get back to the studio, I wanna get this together as quickly as possible,” Ray grumbled as he began packing away his equipment. You already had your script written in your notebook, you just needed to type it up. “I’ll meet you guys back there,” You said, “I wanna grab something to eat.” Gene and Ray nodded, heading for the van. You shifted your bag on your shoulder, walking over to your motorbike. Before you could climb on, you heard, “Finished?” You turned to see Carrillo approaching your motorbike. “For now. Are you?” You added, glancing at the men filing out of the building. “Until next time,” He folded his arms across his chest. You nodded once as you settled on your motorbike, picking your helmet up. “Are you going to insist on tailing me to the station, or am I free to go?” You asked, adjusting your bag so that you wouldn’t jostle it during your ride. Horacio didn’t laugh or crack a smile - not that you’d really expected him to. “What’d you mean earlier when you said ‘gringos to the rescue’?” You asked. Carrillo chanced a glance over his shoulder at the men that had called him over before. “Not everyone came down here with the intention of being a middleman,” Was his explanation. He added, “Drive carefully, patito,” before turning away from you. You floundered for a few moments; that answer had only given you more questions - and why did that nickname sound so sweet coming out of that gruff mouth? You shook your head, pulling your helmet on. You could dwell on all of that later; now, you had a job to do. Tag list: @angels-pie​

[a-way-of-forgiving]

Charita Drabble/Backstory || Ft Anita + Chucho (other background sharks)

idk if i really like this. but um backstory for charita and also a quick little cute thing? idk

———————————————————————

at the dance, anita felt like she saw a part of charita she hadn’t seen in a long time. not since the wedding and…how long ago was that? at least five years.

charita was twenty one now, but only sixteen when she got married to chucho, back in puerto rico. anita knew she hadn’t wanted to get married. sure, she loved chucho now. but it took her awhile.

charita lost a part of herself all those years ago. anita had known her for years. they were the same age and grew up in the same neighborhood in puerto rico. anita had been at the wedding all those years ago. charita used to be fiery and fun. she wasn’t as much now. anita didn’t know what had happened to her, but something clearly did. nobody but rosalia could break her out of her shell. not even chucho.

speaking of, chucho and charita’s relationship was complicated. neither of them had wanted to get married at first, their parents had arranged it. they had grown to love each other in their own way. their relationship was not as passionate as some of the other couples, but it was more mature and loving. charita had changed all those years ago and not even chucho could drag her out of her shell. he certainly tried. but he couldn’t.

at the dance though, charita seemed to have gained some of her fire back. she actually did her hair, not just leaving it natural. she did her makeup and dressed up. and she looked good, really good. she danced a bit, sure. certainly not as much as she used to but…it was a step in the right direction. chucho was shocked by it. and anita didn’t think she had seen charita smile like that in years.

when chucho went off to set up the fight with the jets, charita lost any confidence she had. she retreated to the girls, saying how she wanted to go home. she made up an excuse quickly, saying she was sick. rosalia, her closest friend, volunteered to walk home with her. and off they went.

the boys eventually left the bathroom and went to look for their girls. chucho and jochi glanced around, trying to spot their dates. luz approached them, telling them that charita didn’t feel well so rosalia took her home. chucho nodded and decided to leave as well.

he got back to his apartment after a short walk, taking off his jacket and walking back to the bedroom. there he saw charita sitting on the bed, just staring out the window. “cariño? is everything alright?” he asked, going to sit next to her.

charita nodded, letting out a soft hum. she was slipping into that far away state again that he knew so well. it was her normal demeanor now. “just didn’t feel well…”

chucho nodded, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “you looked great tonight, mi vida. you put those jet girls to shame.” he smiled at her, playing with a bit of her hair.

the wife slightly blushed, shrugging. “esas chicas son mucho más bonitas que yo.” she commented, shaking her head.

”tu vales diez de esas chicas.” the husband said quickly. he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, just admiring her. she was always so beautiful. every part of her was perfect. “did you really not feel well? or did the crowd make you uncomfortable, cariño?” he asked.

”the second one.” charita sighed. “i’m sorry. i wanted to stay but…it was so overwhelming. i only felt fine because you were there. then you left.”

now chucho felt bad. he frowned. “i shouldn’t have left you. i just…had some business to attend to.” he didn’t want to tell her about the rumble. he knew she would disagree.

she wasn’t in the mood to fight it tonight. “let’s just go to bed, amor.” she sighed, going to changed. she noticed her husband staring at her for a moment. “qué?”

“te quiero.” he said simply, his eyes filled with so much adoration and affection.

“te amo más bebé”

[army-of-bee-assassins]

having a hard time deciding on whether to go for the graduate student housing or look for something else

pros:

- definitely on the much cheaper end. possibly the cheapest option period (for that amount of space), tho i haven't done the most thorough research on other housing yet. utilities are all included.

- tons of space. i can easily afford (with the loans i'm expecting to need lmao) the two bedroom, and there's even a little back patio area where i could keep a bunch of my plants.

- it's literally across the street from classes/clinic.

- i don't have to spend any more time looking for housing 🙃

cons:

- they don't allow pets. multiple current students have told me they just got a letter saying their pet is an ESA so that they could keep their pets there. so if i want to live there, i have to get a letter for chai. and i don't have a therapist. i also haven't seen my pcp in quite a while (and never have really formed a relationship with her anyway). i might still try with the pcp but idk how tricky it's gonna be.

- community laundry room, tho apparently you don't have to pay at all (it's included with the utilities). that's actually a slight step up from my current situation, where i have to pay for every load of laundry. still, it's really nice having the washer/dryer in your home, which is what i plan on aiming for if i go for other housing.

- fucking school wifi. i have really fast (and weirdly cheap) internet rn that i use ethernet with so it's super fucking fast and this would definitely be a big step down. and no possiblity of using ethernet i imagine. i wanna find out if you can install your own internet service, but i really doubt this built-for-school housing will have the wiring to make that possible.

- you have to pay the full cost of the housing up front each semester. i actually don't think this should be too big an issue, assuming i'll have my loan money by then? but at least for the first semester when i'm not sure when that money is coming in, it makes me a bit nervous.

- it's not especially nice housing. it looks kinda old and worn. my current place is definitely more updated. but it doesn't look horrible by any stretch and i'm told it's clean.

[anchorandrope]

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

masterpost

!!! | this is just my interpretation, each one can interpret it as they want (as long as its substantiated) so if you interpret it differently that’s also fine. i’m not going to include the full songs.

NO CONTROL

written by: louis (there are more composers but they aren’t relevant for the analysis)

it’s such a direct song that it almost needs no explanation, just by reading the lyrics it’s more than clear that it talks exclusively about about sex.

“stained coffee cup just that fingerprint of lipstick’s not enough sleep where you lay, still a trace of innocence on the pillow case”

“waking up beside you i’m a loaded gun i can’t contain this anymore i’m all yours, i’ve got no control, no control powerless and i don’t care it’s obvious i just can’t get enough of you the pedal’s down, my eyes are closed no control”

“taste on my tongue i don’t want to wash away the night before in the heat where you lay i could stay right here and burn in it all day”

“lost my senses i’m defenseless her perfume’s holding me ransom sweet and sour i devour lying here i count the hours”

basically louis in this song tells us that when he gets up and sees harry by his side it makes him want to fuck, simple.

really if you don’t understand the lyrics of this song easily you are either very innocent or you have less than 13 because the song is more obvious than rock me.

in these cases i leave you a little help:

“pedals down” is the same as saying “hit the pedal”

MEDICINE (unrealased)

written by: harry (supposedly) x

like no control, the lyrics are very obvious and require almost no explanation but unlike no control, medicine says directly that the song is dedicated to a man.

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine treat you like a gentleman give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline think i’m gonna stick with you”

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine rest it on your fingertips up to your mouth, feeling it out feeling it out”

“i had a few, got drunk on you and now i’m wasted and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you tasted”

“if you go out tonight, i’m going out ‘cause i know you’re persuasive you got the salt and i, got me an appetite now i can taste it”

“we’re getting dizzy oh, we're getting dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh”

“tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes tringle running through my bones the boys and the girls are in a mess around with him and i’m okay with it”

“i’m coming down, i figured out, i kinda like it and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you ride it”

i want to clarify that many people say that the lyrics are “i mess around with them” but this isnt true. first you can hear “him” perfectly:

and second because the band ‘radio fluke’ covered the song, therefore it contains the original lyrics. to upload a cover of a song to spotify and apple music, the artist must be asked for permission and the official lyrics must be requested.

now, moving on to the lyrics:

obviously it talks about sex (oral and anal) with a man, the “treat you like a gentleman” it’s not decorative.

what is the relation between both songs?

first: no control talks about how well harry fucks and medicine about how well louis fucks.

second: many people believe that medicine was written by louis since they are very similar, not control is like medicine’s older sister. according to this theory, this is the reason why harry didn’t realase it, since if he wanted to realase it he would have to give credits and that would clearly generate a problem for them.

in my opinion this isn’t the reason, even though it doesn’t seem like a crazy theory, it seems to me that the reason is other.

the first thing that makes me doesn’t agree with the theory is that if you compose a song for someone else and you don’t want to give your name you can put yourself a nickname, therefore if harry really wanted to release the song he would tell louis to get a nickname. (the nicknames thing is more complex but the point is that isn’t necessary to give your full name).

but for me the real reason why he doesn’t release the song isn’t because he doesn’t want to, is because they don’t let him.

releasing medicine would imply that the gp would begin to think that harry really likes men and isn’t just an image that he has to sell more, something that certain people clearly dont want.

although it’s not a confirmation of his true sexuality, it’s a confirmation that harry is lgbt, something that doesn’t seem like a big change for his image but it is.

releasing medicine would allow people to ask harry more about the subject or how he was inspired and well let’s say that harry isn’t a genius when it comes to lying/hiding.

so, is he going to release medicine? when?

we don’t know, it’s impossible to know that kind of stuff. i personally don’t see it as likely or at least not in the near future unless his image drastically changes out of nowhere.

like i said, this is just my opinion, any other interpretation is valid🖤

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

masterpost

!!! | esta es solo mi interpretación, cada uno la puede interpretar como quiere (siempre y cuando sea con fundamentos) así que si la interpretan distinto también esta bien. no voy a incluir las canciones completas.

NO CONTROL

escrita por: louis (hay mas compositores pero no son relevantes para el análisis)

es una canción tan directa que casi no necesita explicación, con solo leer la letra queda mas que claro que habla sobre y exclusivamente de sexo.

original

“stained coffee cup just that fingerprint of lipstick’s not enough sleep where you lay, still a trace of innocence on the pillow case”

“waking up beside you i’m a loaded gun i can’t contain this anymore i’m all yours, i’ve got no control, no control powerless and i don’t care it’s obvious i just can’t get enough of you the pedal’s down, my eyes are closed no control”

“taste on my tongue i don’t want to wash away the night before in the heat where you lay i could stay right here and burn in it all day”

“lost my senses i’m defenseless her perfume’s holding me ransom sweet and sour i devour lying here i count the hours”

traducción

“taza de café manchada tan solo esa huella digital de lápiz labial no es suficiente no duermo lo suficiente donde te acuestas todavía hay un rastro de inocencia en la almohada”

“despertándome a tu lado soy un arma cargada no puedo contener más esto soy todo tuyo, no tengo control, sin control impotente y no me importa, es obvio tan sólo no puedo tener suficiente de ti mi pie en el pedal, tengo los ojos cerrados sin control”

“el sabor en mi lengua no quiero lavar la noche anterior en el calor donde te recuestas podría quedarme justo ahí y quemarme en el todo el día”

“perdí mis sentidos estoy indefenso su perfume me está forzando a hacer algo malo dulce y amargo lo devoro cuento las horas acostado aquí”

básicamente louis en esta canción nos cuenta que cuando se levanta y ve a harry a su lado le dan ganas de coger, sin vueltas.

realmente si no entendes los lyrics de esta canción con facilidad sos o muy inocente o tenes menos de 13 porque la canción es mas obvia que rock me.

en estos casos te dejo una ayudita:

“pedal’s down” es lo mismo que decir “hit the pedal”

MEDICINE (unrealased)

escrita por: harry (supuestamente) x

al igual que no control, la letra es muy obvia y no requiere casi explicación pero a diferencia de no control, medicine dice directamente que la canción va dedicada a un hombre.

original

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine treat you like a gentleman give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline think i’m gonna stick with you”

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine rest it on your fingertips up to your mouth, feeling it out feeling it out”

“i had a few, got drunk on you and now i’m wasted and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you tasted”

“if you go out tonight, i’m going out ‘cause i know you’re persuasive you got the salt and i, got me an appetite now i can taste it”

“we’re getting dizzy oh, we're getting dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh”

“tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes tringle running through my bones the boys and the girls are in a mess around with him and i’m okay with it”

“i’m coming down, i figured out, i kinda like it and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you ride it”

traducción

“aquí para tomar mi medicina, tomar mi medicina tratarte como a un caballero dame esa adrenalina, esa adrenalina piensa que voy a quedarme contigo”

“aquí para tomar mi medicina, tomar mi medicina déjalo en la punta de tus dedos, hacia tu boca, siéntelo siéntelo”

“tuve unos cuantos, me emborraché de ti y ahora estoy gastado, y cuando duerma soñaré sobre a qué sabías”

“si sales fuera esta noche, saldré también porque sé que eres persuasivo, tienes la sal y yo el apetito, ahora puedo saborearlo”

“nos mareamos, oh, nos mareamos la la la la nos mareamos, oh, nos meareamos, oh”

“hormigueos recorriendo mi sangre, de mis dedos a mis pies, hormigueos recorriendo mis huesos, los chicos y las chicas están en, yo me meto con el y estoy bien con ello”

“me vengo abajo, me di cuenta de que me gusta y cuando duerma soñaré sobre como lo montas”

quiero aclarar que varias personas dicen que los lyrics son “i mess around with them” pero esto es mentira. primero se escucha el “him” perfectamente:

[vean el video mas arriba en la versión en ingles]

y segundo porque la banda ‘radio fluke’ hizo un cover de la canción por ende contiene los lyrics originales. para hacer subir un cover de una canción a spotify y apple music se le debe pedir permiso al artista y se le tiene que pedir los lyrics oficiales.

ahora, pasando a los lyrics:

obviamente habla de sexo (oral y anal) con un hombre, el “treat you like a gentleman” no esta de adorno. no solo

cual es la relación entre ambas canciones??

primero: no control habla de lo bien que lo hace harry y medicine es de lo bien que lo hace louis.

segundo: mucha gente cree que medicine fue escrita por louis ya que son muy parecidas, no control es como la hermana mayor de medicine. segun esta teoría, esta es la razon por la que harry no la sacó, ya que si la quisiera sacar debería dar creditos y eso claramente les generaría un problema.

en mi opinion esta no es la razon, por mas de que no me parece una teoría descabellada me parece que la razón es otra.

lo primero que hace que la teoría no me termine de cerrar del todo es que si compones una canción para otra persona y no queres dar tu nombre podes ponerte como un nickname, por ende si harry realmente quisiera sacar la canción le diria a louis que se ponga un nickname y listo. (lo de los nicknames es mas complejo pero se entiende el punto, no es necesario dar tu nombre).

pero para mi la verdadera razon por la que no saca la canción no es porque no quiere, sino porque no lo dejan.

sacar medicine implicaría que el gp empieze a pensar que a harry realmente le gustan los hombres y no es solo una imagen que tiene para vender mas, cosa que claramente cierta gente no quiere.

por mas de que no es una confirmación de su verdadera sexualidad, es una confirmación de que harry es lgbt, algo que no parece un cambio grande para su imagen pero lo es.

sacar medicine habilitaria a que la gente pueda preguntarle a harry mas sobre el tema o como se inspiró y bueno digamos que harry no es ningun genio a la hora de mentir/ocultar.

entonces, ¿va a sacar medicine? ¿cuando?

no sabemos, es imposible saber ese tipo de cosas. yo en lo personal no lo veo probable o por lo menos no en un futuro cercano al menos que de la nada cambie su imagen drásticamente.

como dije, esta es solo mi opinión, cualquier otra interpretación es valida🖤

[goat-yells-at-everything]

Honestly Looking for Advice

So the new job wants a "certificate of need" to accommodate Rosie as a service dog. When I called the doctors office to get something the doctor decided, without asking for a SINGLE DETAIL, that he wouldn't sign one for "just a migraine" and said I'd have to see a psychiatrist to get one for the anxiety. When I asked for an appointment to discuss it with the doctor I was told they'd have to get permission from the doctor to let me make an appointment which was a major "WTF?!" moment for me.

When the nurse wouldn't even listen to any explanation I had,i decided the only way I'd be heard was to go and sit in the office until they talked to me in person. When I got there the nurse Id talked to happened to be up front so at least I got to confront her face to face.

What she told me was just, wow. Apparently the entire network my doctors office is a part of will no longer sign any letter for any service dog.

Ya. You read that right.

They will NOT sign letters for ANY service dogs.

Oh? You're a soldier with PTSD and need a dog to check rooms, warn you when someone is behind you, ect? Well fuck you. We don't do that here.

Oh? You're paraplegic/quadriplegic and need a dog to assist you in your daily life? Fuck off. We don't do that here.

Oh? You're fucking BLIND??? Too bad. Get over yourself. We don't do that here.

Rosie is, essentially, trained like a seizure dog or blood sugar dog is. She detects subtle changes in me that can't be seen, heard, or felt by a human in order to warn me of a serious migraine attack.

These migraines aren't just "bad headaches". They are serious attacks that leave me unable to do basic daily functions. They often last for DAYS at a time. Bad ones send me to prompt care for a special shot. REALLY bad ones send me to the hospital.

My migraines often present at first as regular headaches. I have meds that if I take them within 30 minutes of symptom onset it will stop a migraine cold, but I only get 9 of those pills a month. I can't take one every time I have a basic headache. I can have a mild headache every other day in the spring and fall because of allergies! Not only is that wasting a strong chemical medication but it could lead to my system becoming immune to it and needing something harsher to deal with the migraines.

I have lost jobs because I've had to call in at the last minute too many times and not be able to come back for several days. With Rosie warning me so I can take my meds, I finally feel like I can get back into the workforce without worrying id have to quit after a few short months. Shes given me my life back.

How is this NOT a medical need????

Ok. So. Whats the advice i need?

Is it even LEGAL for my doctor to do this?????

Essentially, I have to find a new doctor thats not associated with the medical group to get a certificate of medical need. Id have to figure out who will take my insurance, get an appointment (which may take MONTHS with the way doctors are backed up now), argue my case, and then HOPE they agree and give me the letter. You REALLY think this job will put everything on hold for that long? Is it fair to make ME put my LIFE on hold for that long???

Thankfully the job placement agency is arguing on my behalf with the place that wanted to hire me. They might wave the need for the letter. If they'd meet her they'd know she wouldn't be an issue.

I just don't really know what to do from here if I'm required to have that letter. My employer is in the right to ask for it so is my doctor even allowed to have a blanket policy to refuse to even consider giving one?

Let me be clear. Its not just ME being turned away. The medical group has a blanket POLICY of refusing to give these letters. And its not for ESAs, they specifically said they won't sign certificates of need for medical Service Dogs. This just feels like a violation of some kind.

[jojo-reader-hell]

Time to show you all how we do it in the pinta cuh.

Gwess x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uh, I guess just Gwess being Gwess. I don’t expect everyone to assume she’s not going to be abusive.

Also if I catch anyone complaining about the Spanglish it’s going down and I know for sure you’ve never kicked it with the 90’s cholas in your entire sheltered life.

...

“Oye, listen bollera.”

“Told you not to fuckin’ call me bollera cabrona.”

“Cállate tu boca. Escucha bollera. Esa machorras, they do shit differently in the pinta. I worry about your ass because you don’t got one mean bone in your body. Shit, you couldn’t even stand up to the guera who bullied you in eighth grade. But I’ll tell you how it is in there esa. Maybe you’ll have the advantage since you’re going in a bollera, not coming out one…”

“What’s bollera?”

She butchers the Spanish, and all you can do is fucking laugh at her poor attempts. Your girlfriend frowns from between your legs, but you tug at her hair to get her to shut up her whining.

Saturdays, she always bugs you in your free time from writing to spend time with her. What the hell is there for two girls to do in prison on a date anyways? You can play cards with her in the yard, have her spot you lifting weights, all that shit gets old. Instead the two of you stay in, she begs you to baby her and brush her hair, and you oblige. Treating it like your grandma did and telling her stories while she made sweet eyes at you.

“How come you always talk in Spanish whenever you tell me stories about us meeting and falling in love?” She asks, pouting her lips up at you.

“Because that’s how it happened esa.” You laugh, tugging on her hair again and making her squeal, “It’s rare that I even get to act like this, not easy being trapped in the middle of two cultures and not getting accepted by either or. But with my babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

She pulls on your jailbird blues, wanting a kiss but you make her wait. It’s just how that shit goes. You still hold grudges from the time she made your first stint into prison some bullshit.

“As I was saying mensa, as every corresponding event would prove in the future, it seemed Little Mosca was, for lack of a better term, entirely full of shit.”

To a point though, as you would later find out. But when it came to it, she didn’t know you or your life.

Never the less you’d have never thought your time in the “pinta” was going to be as smooth sailing as it was. You expected to get into fights, possibly be violated, become “somebody’s bitch” as they so eloquently put it in every fucking prison movie you could get your little pizza hands on. That’s what they told you in your friend groups too. Stop doing loca shit with the girls and go back to school, school girl. You should be at home studying fool. You like to talk about stupid shit like rocks and fucking video games all fucking day. You’re still a kid.

It pisses you off and only serves to give you a Napoleon complex.

Maybe if you had listened, it wouldn’t have gotten you into a case of wrongful arrest that not even the best pro bono lawyer could get you out of. You expected to have no one to turn to in El Acuario. Especially when you didn’t seem to fit in any of the stereotypical niches that came from being an outsider in some bad ass peckerwood lands.

Last name is impossibly hard for the white kids to say? Three strikes you’re out and a beaner. Try to bond with the other people of color? Let’s face it, even if you’re on the same short end of the stick there’s no spot in that long history of oppression for you homes. Speak Spanglish even though you don’t know all that much Spanish because your parents took “English Only” as law? Now every homegirl at El Super is taking the piss out of you.

But say you get grudgingly accepted by the locas, but they’re the kind of girls that sport hoop earrings, lipliner no lipstick, and a neck covered in hickeys? Well, you had the last part, but when the hickeys were from another girl it tends to cause a ruckus in the barrio.

You didn’t expect to be led to your cell and recognize nearly every girl already locked up in there.

“A la verga! Es La Bollera guey!”

“Sad Girl?!” you exclaimed at the voice, only to be jostled into silence.

“Shut the fuck up!” Screams the guard who is leading you.

“Orale bollera! The fuck are you doing in here homegirl?!”

“Let her go homes, she ain’t do shit!”

“Ay loca! The fuck did you do to get in here foo? Get caught eating panocha again?!”

“She ain’t do shit pinche culero! Let her go!”

But somehow against every barrier, life worked in its own way. You went to school, tried to keep it straight to fit in, let your energy help you to fit in seamlessly no matter where you went. But the homegirls always warned you to stay out of shit. Even though they all loved you anyway, bollera y todo, they always claimed you barely survived outside when it came to your sweet nature, how the hell were you going to last a day in the pinta?

The way they seem to want your freedom, it seems like you’re going to incite a riot among the chicanas.

You’re almost embarrassed. Every mom friend on the block seems to be doing time the same way as you, but the camaraderie doesn’t last too long.

So far the worst part of Green Dolphin was being arrested. Slammed on the hot hood of a police cruiser and cuffed, thrown around like you were a rag doll. Granted it wasn’t any fun having la juda sticking their fingers into where you didn’t want anyone except your future partner to, but that and the mugshot, it came with the territory. Eventually your homegirls do have to quiet down, not before reassuring you that they got your “esquina”. Well, now that you’re trapped in a six by eight cell with some goo goo eyed chick that acts like she’s la reina of the whole fucking place, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option anymore.

Even better… she’s not even Hispanic or Latina. Her skin is pasty white and clashes with her blue koolaid dyed lips.

No matter. You know how to deal with the white girls too. That’s the beauty of being able to chameleon your way into any situation.

“Uh… hey.” You say awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t say a word. Weird. You have to scoot by her to take your place on the bottom bunk, about four seconds from opening your mouth to ask the dreaded ice breaker “what are you in for”, when she suddenly yanks you by the coveralls.

Oh… Oh hell no.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Thats my bunk-…”

Earrings off. Let’s go fool. It goes down like Diddy Kong, or more like Donkey when that’s just the type of punch she gets seemingly out of nowhere. You don’t have to turn around to know. She was fucked the minute she tried to get you.

It’s a matter of seconds, after you’ve floored her to the enamel first and pretty much sat on her chest, your hands and an unseen force have her pinned below you with your hands around her skinny guerra neck. The homegirls must have thought the screams were coming from you, because immediately you hear the banging of iron bars as your homegirls are coming to back you up.

“Oh shit! Bollera! Que esta pasando guey?!”

“Get the fuck off her white bitch!”

Their spring into action is stopped dead in its tracks when they see you’re strangling the girl on the floor. It takes them a minute to really comprehend the predicament you’ve got the girl in. When they only knew you from hang outs at Burger King or some dude’s house, they don’t truly know the reason that you waltzed in among them. Unafraid. Unyielding. They only know you that you’re a real loca to be walking around with girls who claim to be so.

They’re dead silent. Don’t even say shit when the girl’s turning blue. Not a word of encouragement or a “ja guey” to keep you going. But it’s fine.

You knock her back and forth into the enamel. She keeps trying to kick you off but her arms are pinned. You’re too far up on her chest, almost sitting on her breasts, smothering her down and punctuating every sentence with a jolt of her head against the flooring as you press down on her windpipe.

“Andale puta, you wanna play that way, I’ll play too.”

She’s blue. Turning the same shade as her lipstick. But you let her stay conscious enough to squeak out an answer.

“Here’s a few rules home girl, keep your fucking hands off me and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t give a shit about you, I didn’t get thrown in the pinta to get fucked up by some gabacha. But you wanna play that shit with me? Al rato bitch!”

“Sueltalo Bollera!”

“You feel me bitch?” You growl.

“Sueltalo homegirl! She ain’t worth it!”

“Let her go!”

“You feel me?!” You insist.

A squeak. That’s all you get from her. A small squeak of affirmation and you let her neck go, continuing to to make your bed as she flounders on the floor, totally ignorant of your homegirl’s gawking but feeling proud of yourself none the less.

It’s no fanfare when you meet up with everyone else later on. They tell you to watch your shit and to leave your cellmate at that. If word gets out, you might have a couple more fights at this rate.

But it doesn’t matter. Smooth sailing from now on since you stood up to her before she could get a hit in.

“You hit me though!”

“Technically that was my Stand that hit you.”

Those same blue koolaid lips pout at you again, and this time you lean down to give her a kiss right on her mouth. She squeals, its that same familiar sound she made when you had her pinned to the floor all those months ago.

“Yeah and you tried to knock my ass out too, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was to meet someone who liked it like that.” You laugh.

Gwess just huffs, making grabby hands at your coveralls and begging you for more affection.

That’s how it goes in the pinta though. At least Little Mosca was right about that part.

[weirdo-with-a-nametag]

Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!