#mexico doesn't even reach half

[the-final-sif]

There's a post from someone outside of the US about how people in the US don't put their country down and just put down their state and something about US people being US centric, and part of it has always kind of bothered me because I think that people outside of the US don't really understand how states work for us or why people think their state should be enough. Some of it is being US centric for sure, but I honestly don't think that's the main reason.

It's because the US is a bunch of countries in a trench coat. I've compared it before to the EU, and I really do think that's accurate. It's literally a union of states. Each state has it's own government and laws and we have the federal government too but day to day a lot more of your life comes down to the state laws. Your driver's license, license plate, wage and a lot of employment protect (and enforcement), vast majority of court experiences, etc all go through the state. Moving to different states can mean being subject to wildly different laws, tax rates/methods, and forms of discrimination (ie florida trying to ban queer people while other states are explicitly adding protections for them).

Like, you'll notice that streamers often tend to be clustered in certain states in the US, and a lot of that has to do with certain states not having an income tax. Depending on what state they're registered in, companies can be subject to wildly different laws. Hence why Delaware is so popular for businesses. Bankruptcy law works differently in every state.

Lawyers are licensed to practice by state, and while they can move to different states, it's difficult and depending on their area of law they may be totally out of their field. Even small states like Delaware have totally different laws from a place 15 minutes to the left like New Jersey.

The largest single state by population is California which has nearly 40 million people. That is more than the entire population of Canada. It's roughly on par with Poland. Give or take a million people.

Ohio has about 11 million people, about 1 million more than Sweden. Florida has 22 million, over double Greece's population. New York and Romania both come out to about 19 million each.

Our smallest state by population, Wyoming, which has about 500k people, still has about 200k more people than Iceland.

Fucking Russia literally does not have half the population of the US. It sits at 144 million while we're at 333 million.

To give a sense of landmass/scale, France is the largest EU state by landmass with 630k square km. Texas alone is 695k. Alaska is 1.7 million square km. The US in total is 11.3 million square km. The entire EU has 4.2 million square km.

The US is 1) fucking huge and 2) so much less cohesive than a lot of non-Americans assume.

So why would someone from the US just put down their state? For the same reason that most people from the EU don't write down "Germany in the EU". Your state is where you're actually from, the USA is the weird umbrella you live under.

[tlou-reid]

visitor's list ✰ spencer reid

warnings ✰ angst, cursing, prison spencer

summary ✰ when spencer goes to prison, his visitor's list seems to be missing a name

notes ✰ idk if i like this but it's an idea i had since i first saw s12 lol i hope u like it!

you don't know if anything has ever hurt as much as this. you've had emily prentiss tell you bad news before, this was definitely not the first. but, damn, this was the worst. every word felt like a gunshot right into your heart.

"spencer was found in mexico."

bang

"we are still trying to figure out how and why he ended up there."

bang

"he was, thankfully, extradited back to the united states due to a complication in the case."

bang

"we are still figuring everything out but for now he's here and he is safe."

okay, that part felt good. knowing he was safe was comforting, a little. but, that feeling did not last long. emily had that look on her face. her sad eyes with a soft tilt of her head. she was hiding something. "emily, what else?"

well, she was actually hiding a lot from you. she was hiding that there was drugs involved. she was hiding that reid was on said drugs. she was hiding that he decided not to take a plea deal and was going to have to remain in jail. she was hiding that the fbi would not be helping him at all. she was hiding that he is not in protective custody. she was hiding that you were not on his visitors list.

"we're still figuring everything out, there's a lot of details i don't know and even more i cannot tell you," she takes a sigh, "he has been allowed to have visitors, garcia is going to the first-"

"why not me?" you interrupted with a furrow of your brain. you were spencer's lover. spencer's person. spencer's other half. sure, you did not go out in the field with him. sure, you weren't equipped to handle the legal side, but you knew spencer. physically, mentally and emotionally; you knew spencer. he needed you. he needed you more than someone to talk about what he is missing on the field. he needed comfort, stability, love. all of these things only you could provide for him.

"y/n," emily says, her eyes even sadder, "there are some," she takes a breathe, letting the statement hang in the air for a couple seconds, "complications".

"what kind of complications?" your voice is harsher than you intend for it to be. the tears that have been welling up in your eyes since she knocked on your door are threatening to fall. your whole body is tense as you rush out each inquisitive statement.

"y/n, you cannot see spencer." her tone was more authoritative, but her look, that fucking stare, that was full of pity. full of sadness. god, you hated it.

"what the fuck do you mean?" you rush out, tears finally falling. they had changed their composition. the tears that had welled up in your eyes were full of sadness, full of fear. but the ones that hit your cheek were full of anger, full of distrust. of course you could see spencer, he's yours. he's more yours than any of the bau agents, that's one thing you were sure of.

"spencer, he uh, he had to create his list. the list of people who could go visit him while he is in prison. your name was never put on it."

bang. bang. bang. bang. bang. bang. bang.

emily tried to break the news gently, she did not want you to be hurt and she did not want to be the one hurting you. but there was no way to prevent it. your knees started to wobble and your hands started to shake. your breathing became ragged. this was a new feeling, one you'd never experienced before. you felt sad, angry, distrustful, resentful, jealous. you felt so many things.

emily reached out to put a gentle hand on your shoulder but you dodged it. "he chose not to let me see him." you declared, not leaving any room for emily to reply. emily prentiss is a smart woman, one who rarely doesn't know what to say or do. but she was speechless. she hurt for you. she was sad for you.

"i need to go," you stepped away from her, closing the door and walking into your house. she didn't come in when you invited her and now you knew why. she had nothing but bad news for you.

your tears were flowing freely. you didn't know what to do, so you sunk to the middle of the living room floor, trying to find comfort within yourself. what did this mean for you? what did this mean for spencer? what did this mean for your relationship? here you were, laying in the middle of your shared living room, surrounded by his books, the art he liked, the blanket jj's mom made for him. and yet, he was behind bars not even acknowledging your feelings, your hurt, your uncertainity. upon this realization, the tears turned into sobs, echoing through your home that now felt so empty.

but you were so wrong. so so so wrong. every single thought that wracked his brain was you. from the time he had enough clarity in his brain to think after coming down off of the drugs, you were on his mind. he had written his list with your name at the top, before recalling all of the things he'd been told.

"You just gotta learn how to survive"

"But if you keep this up, keep thinking the normal rules apply in here, then I cannot help you"

"They're gonna beat you again. Might even kill you"

the first time he removed your name from the list, it was selfish. he was struggling in here already, how would he get by if they knew he had a beautiful, loving, kind woman coming into to see him? being happy he was alive? feeling protective over him? loving him? sure, he knew he was a good person, and he knew he was probably the smartest person in here, but he felt so weak. he felt exposed, vulnerable. he did not want them to use the one thing in the world that made him feel those things in a safe, positive way, and run with it. so, for the first time, he removed your name from the list. he was being selfish, he knew that. but he also knew he needed to survive. otherwise, he wouldn't get to come home to you. so, going a few months, just until his team proved his innocence, without you seemed like the best course of action.

once he got over those fears, he decided he'd need to see you eventually. he missed you. he missed your smile. he missed talking to you. and so, he put your name back on the list. he might've even smiled as he went to turn it in, thinking about the day he got to see you.

and then he pictured you. your radiant smile and bubbly energy, walking into such a dark, desolate place. he looked at himself in the mirror, and he imagined you. he imagined you with dark circles under your eyes, the smile wiped off of your face. he imagined you in his spot, weak, scared and unsure of the future. he ripped the list up, re-writing it one last time. to any normal person, it was irrational. obviously visiting a prison and being imprisoned are two very different things. but to spencer, it was the same. you were an extension of him. you felt the things he felt, you saw things the way he did. and he knew that him seeing you, and you seeing him, would not be good for you. so, the list was ripped up. then, it was rewritten with the bau members, then it was turned in.

and then it was forgotten. by him, at least.

as time went on, he had other things to prioritize. he was focused on his safety, as well as the safety of the other inmates. he feels as though he has a duty to protect them, so he moves on and takes action in the prison.

you, on other-hand, are never going to forget his list. the pain you felt because of that stupid fucking list.

so, you keep yourself busy. you work longer hours, picking up extra work in your job. you meet up with your friends, not spencer's friends, your friends. you don't tell them about where he is, just some off handed comment about his job when they ask.

your favorite activity becomes visiting ms. diana. spencer's mom has grown to love you, and you enjoy your talks, even if she doesn't remember all of them. you make it a point to be there when the nurse is taking her lunch, just because you know that jj comes later than lunch time, and you do not want to see her. so, naturally, you do not see the nurse or jj, getting to enjoy your time with ms. diana all by yourself.

you have not seen any of the team. penelope and luke have both left messages on your phone that you haven't bothered to listen to. jj has called and texted, you even answered one time. but when she told you she was on her way to see spencer, you quickly, but politely, ended the call. it wasn't that you didn't want to hear about spencer or didn't want to talk to the team, it just hurt too much. it's been over a month and you haven't gotten to see spencer, or even hear his voice. because of a choice he made. so, seeing those who did get those privileges was too much and you avoided it.

until rossi was knocking on your door, and luke was creeping in your windows. the knocks were quick and heavy, clearly indicating that they needed you. reluctantly, you opened it.

"y/n," rossi smiles, "we did it." you thought you knew what he was talking about, but just in case you were wrong, you furrowed your eyebrows and cocked your head. "reid's out," luke calls from behind rossi. they are expecting you to look excited, to move to the car to go see him right now. but you don't.

your body relaxes. it was a natural instinct. despite all of your feelings about this situation, knowing he was both innocent and out of prison was a comforting thought. a lot of the pent-up negative energy releases from your body once you know he is safe.

"he is coming to the bureau, we came to get you so you can be there when he arrives," rossi clarifies, slightly confused by your lack of excitement.

"he doesn't want me." you were going to say 'he doesn't want me there', but your brain stops you. it's not that he didn't want you at the bureau; spencer did not want you. he did not want you to visit. he did not want to call you. he did simply did not want you.

"what are you talking about?" luke asks. you were getting real tired of crying in front of fbi agents, but here you were. standing in your doorway, crying over spencer reid, just as you had done a few months ago. rossi's face softens, understanding your pain now.

"he didn't let me visit, he didn't call. he didn't want me, luke. he didn't want me when he needed me most and he definitely doesn't want me now." you feel bad for talking to luke the way you were, he was always nice to you. but, fuck, you were hurting.

"he loves you so much," rossi starts one of his speeches, "he was scared, y/n. please, give him a chance. the spencer you knew was not the same spencer in prison. he asked about you every time anyone went to see him. he tried to explain and apologize. not seeing you destroyed him. please, just come with us."

you had never heard rossi beg for anything before. you could see the sincerity in his eyes. right now, rossi knew spencer better than you did. you felt like you didn't know anything about him. so you decided to listen to the person who does. you climbed into the car, letting rossi and luke take you to see spencer.

you arrived before him, taking the elevator up to the bau floor. you were familiar with this room, having dropped off plenty of lunches that spencer had forgotten at home. your eyes fell on his desk. there was a picture frame that you knew had a picture of you and him. despite keeping a neat, proper desk, he always made sure to have a way to show you off. everyone in the room was looking at you with sad expressions.

what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes passed before the elevator dinged, signaling his arrival. when he stepped out, his eyes immediately fell on you. he looked so tired. so scared. so weak. he didn't even glance at anybody else, making his way straight to you. as he approached, you looked at his chest, too sensitive to bring your eyes to meet his.

"i'm sorry," was the first thing he said. he couldn't imagine the pain you were feeling. he had a million things to say but also nothing at all. he let this statement hang in the air before he continued, "and i love you. so much."

you finally looked him in the eyes. you didn't say anything, just looked at him.

"can i hug you?" he asked cautiously. you hesitated and then nodded. you were quickly enveloped by his arms, his scent, his love. him.

[pimpedoutgreenears]

Back before season 5 aired, I really wanted to write a fic about Demetri and Eli dealing with their shit while Miguel was in Mexico. I had the vision of them remotely helping Johnny and Robby find Miguel, but also strengthening their relationship through therapy, because let's face it, someone in this show needs a therapy arc. And ofc they'd be going to a couple's therapist because Demetri let Hawk set up the appointment, and that's what made sense to him. And there would have been a bunch of her just objectively looking at the karate wars and being like, wtf? But I never got very far into writing it, and at this point I figure I won't ever go back to finish it. But, I really liked my opening scene, so I figured that I'd throw it into the void here so it doesn't live and die in my drafts.

It’s dark in the arcade, and, on an unconscious level, Demetri is aware that what they say about losing one sense making the rest stronger is indeed correct. He knows because he can smell the sweat around him, hear his own heart thudding over the screaming about finishing him, and feel the tension in his arm that tells him that it’s about to snap.

“Eli, stop! It’s me! It’s me!” words that should mean everything, but they don’t make the hand twisting his arm back release him.

No mercy, right?

He knows his arm is going to be broken— can see it in flashes, can almost prematurely feel the pain, like it’s a phantom of something that’s happened before.

“Stop! I’ll go, I’ll go!” But Eli’s not going to stop.

Eli is going to break his arm. Eli is going to leave him here. Eli isn’t his best friend anymore.

The smell, the screaming, the tension in his arm— it floods his senses. He knows what’s next. Somehow, he knows what’s next.

First the begging, then the…

SNAP

Demetri’s eyes open, and it’s not dark anymore, but his heart is still pounding as his hand darts out from under his blanket, searching for Eli on the air mattress beside his bed.

Demetri supposes that from a logical standpoint it might not make sense that his first reaction to a dream about his best friend breaking his arm (a thing that very much did happen and isn’t at all imaginary) is to reach out said appendage to find said best friend, but he can’t argue with the relief that fills his body when his hand wraps securely around Eli’s inner elbow.

Eli doesn’t flinch and instead reaches up to wrap his hand around Demetri’s elbow (or at least the spot right under it). “Bad dream?” he asks, tone already soft and knowing.

It’s not like Demetri has nightmares every night, but it’s often enough that Eli knows the signs by now. They’ve been living like they share lungs all summer.

“Yeah,” Demetri admits as he takes Eli in. The hand that isn’t holding his arm is holding his phone, a telltale sign that he’s been awake and waiting on Demetri to follow suit. “I’d tell you about it, but frankly they’re just boring at this point. You’d think the karate wars would have given me more interesting material.”

Eli’s thumb runs gently over his skin, a silent comfort before he says, “Yeah, who’d have thought trauma would be so boring.” It’s a half-hearted response, whether because he wants to say something more helpful or because he worries the dream is about him, Demetri doesn’t know.

He figures they’ll both be happier not knowing. They can save the honestly for therapy.

He switches to a new train of thought, even as his hand stays wrapped around Eli (He’ll let go when he’s ready, when he’s had his fill of the reassurance of his best friend’s skin— which is only a creepy thought if one voices it, which Demetri does not). “Any updates from the rescue team?”

Eli sighs, keeping his hold on Demetri even as he looks at his phone with a frown. He’s looking at a map, a red dot on it that represents Sensei Lawrence and Robby. “No, but they’ve been stopped at a bar for a while.”

Demetri can tell that he’s trying to hide the anxiety he feels surrounding their missing friend, so he squeezes his elbow and then does what he does best— commentary. “Oh, is it time for Sensei Lawrence’s breakfast beer already? I hear he can’t drive without one.”

Eli sighs again. Demetri wishes it was because of his mean joke, but he knows it’s not. “They should have found Miguel by now.”

Worry fills Demetri’s stomach too, but he refuses to humor it. For once he doesn’t want to be the one talking about all of the bad things that could be happening. “Come on, man, those two? We didn’t exactly send the dream team on this one,” Demetri says before realizing that probably wasn’t as reassuring as he meant it to be. “What I mean is, you have two capable guys who are… very emotionally constipated. When you factor in stops for family drama, they’re making good time.”

“We should have gone,” Hawk says, not for the first time since they’d found out that Miguel had left the country. It’d taken a lot for Eli not to jump on his bike and go. Demetri is pretty sure that had they not been together when they found out, Eli would be in Mexico too.

“Hey, we’ve been over this,” Demetri says softly, squeezing his friend’s arm again. “We can’t all just run to Mexico, and Sensei Lawrence beat us to the punch. Plus, with Miguel dealing with the whole dad thing… Well, we’re not exactly the father figure he’s looking for.”

Eli sighs again but this time in acceptance. “I just hate waiting.” Demetri watches as Eli looks at the dot again. It still isn’t moving.

“I know; me too,” Demetri admits before forcing a smile. “But hey, at least we get to play tech guy on operation ‘Star-crossed Fathers.’”

“That name sucks worse than the last one,” Eli says, a small smile forming.

“The right one will come, my friend. Mark my words.”

[cowgurrrl]

Losing My Cool

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: shortie short but I’ve already got another part half finished 🤠 fic named after this song

Summary: What do they say about all good things? [1.1k]

Warnings: yearning idiots, probably incorrect interview technique, idk what else

A PA brings you over to your mark and instructs you to stay there until your name gets called, which seems simple enough, but she stays nearby to make sure you don't wander. It feels a little silly to always have to be babysat, but you brush it off, smoothing your hands down your blue dress and taking deep breaths. You've done late-night shows before, but they still make you nervous, especially since you know just how many people watch them. Ryan sent you a video of Elizabeth sitting in front of the TV, watching an ad for tonight's show, and cheering when she saw your name and face. So, who knows who else might be watching if your five-year-old goddaughter is?

You can hear the introductory remarks, laughter, and applause that come with them, but you miss the voices whisper-arguing behind you. They die down by the time your brain wraps around the sounds and decide to stay focused. And you do. You run through what you want to say about the movie, fun anecdotes, and easy ways to skate around questions about Joel. You feel settled and prepared until familiar hands wrap around your middle, making you jump and turn in his arms. 

"You're gonna get me in trouble," you say, and Joel smirks.

"I had to convince the production assistant to let me come kiss my girlfriend for good luck."

"You're getting fast and loose with that term, huh?" 

"D'you want me to stop?" He asks, his thumbs swiping over your hips, and you shake your head.

"I kinda like it."

"Good," Joel says as the band starts playing, and you push at his shoulders. He quickly kisses you, his hand lingering on your lower back for a second longer than necessary, before rushing away with a mischievous look on his face. "Kick some ass!'

You laugh at the sentiment as your name gets called from the front of the stage, and the curtain opens enough to let you walk through. You smile and wave to the audience members as you walk over and shake Jimmy's hand. "Thank you so much for being here," he says so only you can hear, and you smile. The band vamps until you sit in the plush chair beside his desk and accept the applause when he repeats your name.

"It's so great to see you! You look fantastic!" He says, and you smile as you run your hands over the skirt of your dress.

"Thank you! I'm so happy to be here."

"Well, we are very lucky to have you. You've been a very, very busy lady these past few years. When was the last time you were in New York?" He asks, and you puff out your cheeks as you think.

"At least four or five years."

"And you went to school out here, right?"

"Yeah, I graduated from NYU. I was lucky enough to earn a full ride on a merit-based scholarship which doesn't happen very often, and once I graduated, I did a few projects here in the city before getting my first movie deal out in LA."

"That's amazing! And since then, you have been nonstop. I mean, you are everywhere. And you have a new movie coming out called Red Dirt Girl," he says as he holds up a picture of the movie poster, and the audience cheers at the image. You reach out to boop Lilly's nose and feel yourself smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, but you're so happy. For once, it feels genuine. "What was it like to work on this film?" 

"It was just the opportunity of a lifetime. We filmed out west around the Colorado-New Mexico border, and I hadn't even been out there, so it was so fun getting to know that area and working with the cast and crew. I mean, it was just like coming to work and having fun for twelve hours a day, and then we all lived in the same building, so we would just keep hanging out, and we got to be really close."

"And the girl who plays your sister, Lilly Porter, is just phenomenal for someone as young as she is. Did you find yourself getting protective of her?" 

"Oh, absolutely. Lilly just turned sixteen about a month ago, but when we were filming, she had just turned fourteen, so she was really young, and I hadn't worked with someone that young that closely. And we had a day where we just sat down and talked for hours, and she's such an old soul, and she's so smart, but, I mean, we both know how hard the industry can be. So, I set her up with people I trust and gave her advice I wish someone had given me. I got really close with her family, and, of course, they are fantastic people as well. So, it was a learning curve for both of us, but she is an amazing, beautiful person, and I'm so lucky that I got to work with her. I totally consider her a little sister now." 

"Which is ironic considering that you guys butt heads so much in this movie."

"Oh, yes, we do."

"Let's take a look at this clip here," he says as a short clip from the movie comes up on the screen behind you. Lilly's character, Sabrina, is arguing with your character, Jo, about getting sent home from school because of her behavior. Lilly perfectly portrays the annoying little sister as she stomps through the house, making sarcastic comments and driving you up the wall. The clip ends with Sabrina telling Jo that she's just like their mother, which obviously, hits Jo right where it hurts. You smile and clap along with the audience as the clip ends. "Wow! I mean, just fantastic! Were those scenes hard to shoot?"

"The scenes where we were fighting were really hard to film because I just love her so much, and I never wanted to yell at her, but Lilly was absolutely brilliant because she would do a new thing each time we shot the scene that would completely throw me off. So, like, one time she knocked over a chair or slammed the door so hard that pictures fell off the wall, and it would startle me each time, and then it was pretty easy to access that anger after that." You laugh, remembering the time you accidentally did raise your voice because she scared the shit out of you. 

"And did the director tell her to do that?"

"No, she just did it! And Peter, the director, was just sitting there like," You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in the chair, copying the famous Peter Jankowski slouch, and nod, pretending to chew gum. "And like, that's it! Which is great! You always want a director that will let you try things, but I was given no warning." Jimmy laughs at the story and seamlessly transitions into a commercial break. 

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, with you promoting the movie and even playing a game where you had to answer New York City trivia facts. Appearances like this can actually be really fun when they're done right, and you always have a good time when you're on the Tonight Show. As you're leaving the stage, Jimmy tells you that you and Joel have to get dinner with him and his wife the next time you're in the city, and you agree, knowing that it will probably never happen. 

You're excited to see what Joel will say about how things went, but when you go backstage, he's nowhere to be found. You don't find him immediately in the wings where you left him or in your dressing room. You almost ask the PA if she saw him leave, but she's dealing with five million other things, and you doubt she would've noticed even if he did. You furrow your brows as you fish your phone from your purse and type out a quick message to Joel.

Hey! Where are you? I just got done.

The message delivers even though his phone is on Do Not Disturb. You think about calling him but figure he might've just gone back to the hotel room before you. Paparrazi gets pictures of you leaving the studio alone and shouts questions at you, wanting to know where Joel is. You don't answer. You just get in the car and try to get back to the hotel as fast as possible. Truthfully, you're a little embarrassed. You looked around for him like a lost puppy backstage, and now you're just dutifully returning to the hotel to look for him. It also doesn't help that you were photographed arriving with him but not leaving with him. You can feel Melanie's migraine from here.

When you scan into the hotel room, all of Joel's stuff is gone. His clothes, shoes, and even his razor have all disappeared. You were there for an hour, maybe less, and he just left? Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you quickly pull it out to see a text from Joel.

Ellie had an emergency. On the first flight back. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you.

You sigh, plop down on the now too-big bed, and kick off your heels.

No worries. Take care of your baby. I'll see you when I get back.

Thank you. I owe you.

You don't owe me anything, Super Dad. Just text me when you get home, and keep me updated. Let me know if you or Sarah need anything.

He starts typing something before deleting it and then typing again. For a moment, you two stare at the same screen, waiting for the other to say something even though he's at the airport and you're in an empty hotel room. Your heart clenches in your chest as he types and types and types, just for the bubble to disappear as fast as he did.  

[leclercarchive]

F1: Fan of Senna and Interlagos, Leclerc seeks to change writing in Brazil

At first glance, Monegasque driver Charles Leclerc and Brazil don't have much in common. But not quite. The Ferrari driver may not have very impressive results in São Paulo - perhaps his best weekend was the first, when he was seventh in Alfa Romeo - and he comes from a very different country. But he is one of the drivers who most enjoy coming to the country.

The reasons are several. Starting with the circuit. "It's something I can't explain why, but when I was young, I always chose to race at Interlagos on the PlayStation when I played with my brothers. I love the curbs and the fluidity of the circuit."

Leclerc also always said he was a fan of Ayrton Senna.He was born almost three and a half years after the three-time champion passed away, but he watched recordings of his races encouraged by his father, a big fan of the driver who to this day holds the record for victories in Monaco

"There are several reasons why I'm a fan of his. His pace, his overtaking, how brave he was. There was something very special about him. Of course he was special in the car, it's obvious to see. But there was also something very special about him outside the car, a kind of aura."

And the third reason, but no less important, is the fans. Everyone around Leclerc says they are impressed by the joy with which he responds to everyone who asks for a photo or an autograph. When he arrived at Ferrari in 2019, many in the paddock believed he would change. But that didn't happen.

And, in Brazil, he already realized from the crowd that welcomed him at Guarulhos Airport on Tuesday, that the affection for him is great. "I have a lot of support in Brazil and it's incredible to feel that when you arrive because it encourages me a lot. I know what it's like to be on the other side, admiring a driver. I remember when I was in karting and I was admiring the F1 guys. A gesture The smallest thing can change a lot for this or that young woman. I know that whatever I give, even if it's small, has a big impact on people. It doesn't cost me anything to make someone smile and it's worth it."

Leclerc's fans are treated very well, but they have also suffered a lot in recent years. Lack of luck, missed chances, a car that gives hope for being stronger in the classifications, allowing him to take pole positions, but which drops in production in the race have been common ingredients in the Monegasque's career

"It's true that we've had ups and downs in recent years, and it's difficult to return to a high level after a difficult weekend. But it's like that in life too. The fact is that I love what I do so much that, Even after a difficult race, I still have a smile on my face because I'm very lucky to make a living from the sport I love."

But Leclerc knows that you can't stay there almost forever. At Interlagos, for example, he never even got on the podium. His best result was fourth place last year. And that's something he wants to change. "I had races in Brazil where I wasn't very lucky. Other times, the car's performance wasn't as competitive as we expected, but I hope this will be the year"

Leclerc comes from two pole positions, in the United States and in Mexico City. In Formula 1 simulations , Ferrari appears as the second fastest car, behind Red Bull. That, in itself, would be a surprise, since Mercedes usually does well at Interlagos. And it would increase Leclerc's chances of reaching the podium in São Paulo in real life too, instead of just in the video game.

The São Paulo GP will be held this weekend, in a sprint format. As a result, there will only be one free practice session this Friday before qualifying for the GP, which starts at 3pm.

[qapsiel]

@bloodsalted ;; some meme somewhere huntercorp!dean is surrounded by demons up to no good and Cas happens upon this.

                                CASTIEL KNOWS THAT SOMETHING WENT VERY, VERY WRONG, but he can't put his finger on what. One moment, he'd been in an abandoned ship while Jack tried to guide Kaia to the apocalypse world; the next thing he knew, Castiel woke up in a small border town in Texas, getting yelled at by a drunk cowboy whose horse he accidentally set off running. He can't reach Sam and Dean — their phone numbers don't seem to be working anymore, and praying to Jack doesn't get him an answer, either. He flies to the bunker, but it's locked tight, and he doesn't have a key.

                                For lack of anything else to do, Castiel returns to the border town and tries to find out if anyone there has seen Sam, Dean, or Jack, but nobody can help. He feels increasingly desperate –– like that time when the Secret Service brought them God knows where because they thought Sam and Dean had tried to kill the president. Unfortunately, there are no British Men of Letters he can ask for help now, and Mary isn't around to help, either.

                                Then, when desperation seems to stifle even his last hope, he feels a sudden tug –– something he hasn't felt in a very, very long time. Since he carved Enochian symbols into the Winchester's ribs, to be precise. Why do they pop up on his angel radar now? How did they get rid of the symbols? Questions over questions, but Castiel is too relieved to wonder about the answers; he simply closes his eyes and follows the tug, wings unfurling.

                                It leads him to a city named Colima in West Mexico. The abandoned shopping center still has mannequins exhibiting fashion from 20 years ago when Castiel shows up behind the cash register. Dean crashes into a shelf full of dusty Flip Flops, and Castiel needs half a second to take in the situation: 3 demons wearing two male and one female meatsuit. The female is inside a devil's trap and no immediate threat, but one of the males raises a broken metal clothes rail to spear Dean, so Castiel quickly smites him with his palm pressed to the demon's forehead. "Dean," he says as Dean scrambles to his feet, producing a weapon that shoots –– holy water? at the remaining demon. "What's going on?"

[nyxtheshipper]

I just came out of a five year relationship. Yes, five years. Five and a half almost six. The first five years we worked fine, then great, sometimes okay, but always good. We met in a private high school that was very prestigious. He didn't have a scholarship, I did, so imagine the disparity between his life and mine.

In the beginning it wasn't so obvious, he lived with his mom in a decent house, not too ostentatious, so our daily lives were kind of the same. He did his chores, helped his mom cook, cleaned the house or sometimes had someone to help them clean - something surprisingly common here in Mexico. My family also sometimes had someone to help us clean, but most of the time we cleaned our house ourselves. The point is, even if he clearly had money, he didn't flaunt it.

But you know what happened? Slowly, during college, during the pandemic, and when we moved cities to go to college after the pandemic, it started to show. The funny thing about school is that it's still a controlled environment, doesn't matter whether you're in college or already working while in college. We had it relatively easy. We knew our lives were here, right now, gearing towards graduation - towards the void that was being filled up by maybe an assured position thanks to the fact that the colleges were also private.

You can plan an entire life in school, dream about it, even play house. But the reality is harsh, and once you lose the structure, it's not playing anymore. The bubble pops.

That's when things get real. For a long time, my ex and I lived in that bubble. I was working and studying, trying to pay my bills while also keeping afloat my grades and a relationship. I kind of managed, but believed that it was gonna pay off once we finished and my ex and I were finally going to live together and actually start our own lives. That's how you manage to stay sane with a lot of pressure on top of you.

It also helps to see that your ex is more down to Earth than you expect, having been born and raised in a life of privilege. He's also living alone, paying bills, but his family is the one that gives him the money, and it shows. It shows in your meals, in the dates he takes you to that you can't afford. And, honestly, you start sympathizing with those Hallmark/Kdrama girls that get everything from their rich love interest. It sucks.

And before you come for me about privilege, etc. I. Know. But also, what they don't show you and what I had to learn the hard way is the rules. Once that bubble pops, and you're presented with your partner's reality, you see the incredible amount of strings that that money has attached. And it fucking sucks! For a long time, being in college, away from our families, we were able to be ourselves, and in a traditional household, that is gold!

Mexican families are still so misogynistic with many many things. And I had the privilege to have a mom that doesn't take shit from the patriarchy, especially when my dad tries to enforce it, but my ex? The moment he stepped out of that bubble, he had to go back to the traditions. It didn't matter whether I had shown him that women are equals, that he didn't have to be the sole provider, or that I was teaching him that he's allowed to cry, to feel, to get angry, to just be!

The moment he stepped out of his bubble, he fell apart. Since I had moved to the same city as him during college, he was never truly alone. But now, having left the country for a semester, on the brink of graduating, he was truly for the first time ever alone. And he couldn't cope. He asked a lot from me, making me his whole world and expecting me to be there 24/7, and I didn't react kindly to that. We discussed - not fought, discussed - and we tried to reach agreements. For me, he was being too clingy, and I had my own problems and my own life to look after. I also saw the opportunity he was in as something amazing and to be taken advantage of, and that he needed to make friends desperately.

For him, it was the worst time of his life.

Did I know he was having SUCH a bad time? No. Why? Because, as is tradition in his particular socioeconomic circle, men are not allowed to show emotion. He could only be calm. Even when he told me he was tired, it was the same as a robot telling you they're tired.

He could not show anger, he could not show he was sad, hell, whenever we "fought" it was more like a business meeting of what steps we were going to take to not let the discussion happen again. Everything I had tried to show him, that he could express his feelings, of me asking him to show me he was angry instead of just telling me, all gone.

And today, we broke up. He broke up with me, more like, and he did it amicably. Without showing emotion, just telling me what he feels. As usual.

And that's not okay. Can you imagine someone breaking up with you as if you were business partners only? When I asked him one last time to be angry, to show emotion, he said it wasn't appropriate nor polite. And as much as it pisses me off, I can't blame him entirely.

He's 2 meters tall in a country where you are considered tall at 1.80. Of course many people have told him he's scary, especially when he gets mad, even his ex told him that.

There are many things wrong with today's culture here in Mexico, don't even get me started on the way his family started trying to put me into the stereotypical housewife box. But today, I saw something that hurt me more: a man who couldn't express his feelings, not even while breaking up a five year relationship, simply because it was deemed impolite and even scary if he expressed himself.

[buddiebuckley-diaz]

So here’s the list of my fav 911 quotes. I have it divided into seasons but sometimes the seasons blur together after watching them 100 times like I have so some quotes might be in the wrong season, if you notice this let me know!! Also if you have any other amazing quotes from the show PLEASE reply/reblog with them, I always love seeing great quotes from the show! (I also ah e not added any from the last couple episodes yet)

Season 1

When we take the uniform off at the end of the day, it symbolizes letting go of all the sad, crazy, inhumane things we've seen that day. -Athena

You never go beyond the glass doors. -Buck

He broke up with me, and he did not have my permission. -Abby

Sometimes the right kind of no is better than the wrong kind of yes. -Abby

I get to be the tough guy, but I also get to help people. -Buck

My family is everything to me. And there ain't no trouble from the inside, or evil from the outside that's going to tear it apart. -Athena

No one is good when it's personal. -Buck

Karma is a wild animal... And she won't be caged! -Hen

Season 2

Okay. You. You're my problem. - Buck

You can have my back any day. -Eddie

You wanted us to bond, we might end up real close. -Buck

We all feel pressure, but it's how we respond that matters. Pressure doesn't have to break us down. It can show us who we really are. -Maddie

The point is you can't trust people, only yourself. -Josh

My father's from Mexico. My mother's Swedish. I can help you out with the Swedish half but no one told me which half that is. -Eddie

Yeah but it's hard to know though right? If you're hanging on too long or giving up too soon. -Buck

We’re not the story. We’re just here to make sure no story ends before it should. -Buck

So maybe the greatest love stories aren't the ones that end in tragedies. Maybe they're the ones that start with a second chance. -Maddie

Standing in between you and anyone who thinks they can hurt you is exactly where I want to be standing. -Buck

Here's how you make it to the end of the day. You don't worry about the things that you can't do anything about. -Bobby

You want to be a hero, be the one who lives to tell the tale. -Athena

I'm real. You're real. We can be real together. -Athena

You don't find it, son. You make it. -Old Guy

Our parent's approval is something that we all crave. We just can't let it stop us from doing the right thing. -Athena

Don't be afraid to run. Be afraid to stay. -Officer

Life moves pretty fast, if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. -Chimney

Yeah, but this time he only got stabbed. -Hen

You want to be punished? Your punishment is that you lived. Now make it worth a damn. -Phil

I spent years not having a voice, and now that I do, it just feels like what I'm saying doesn't matter. -Maddie

You're a fool. But I love you, too. -Athena

Season 3

Where did all the water go? -Christopher

Buck, there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you. -Eddie

A few choice words can sometimes be the life raft that gets you home. To be seen… to be found… isn’t that what we’re all searching for? -Buck

I learned one thing from that tsunami; it's that I don't quit. I fight. -Buck

They’re my family, there’s nothing stronger than family. -Buck

You want me to watch Christopher? -Buck

It’s easy, he’s not very fast. -Eddie

Maybe try going to the zoo this time, something inland. -Eddie

Out there in this world, helping people, that is where I belong. -Buck

Because you’re exhausting, we all have our own problems but you don’t see us whining about it. You know somehow we just manage to suck it up. Why can’t you? -Eddie

You know how much Christopher misses you? How could you? You’re not around. -Eddie

No, it prevents me from reaching out to you! I couldn’t even call you to bail me outta jail… If that was something that happened. -Eddie

You know, Buck, someday you're gonna figure out when to stop pushing and learn some patience. I hope we're both alive to see it. -Bobby

I just want you to talk to me. Even if it's just to say that you're still mad. -Buck

There's no one right way to deal with trauma. -Frank

I killed someone I used to love. I will never be completely free of that. -Maddie

I get taking things slow. But tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. So if you love her, tell her. -Eddie

People make mistakes. Doesn’t mean you give up on ‘em. -Buck

Love me anyway! -Buck

You can’t save someone from themselves. Not if they don’t want it -Buck

Look I’m sorry I wasn’t there Eddie. You and Chris needed me and I had my head so far up my behind with that stupid lawsuit. -Buck

We’re way past that Buck. -Eddie

I’m not! -Buck

I should’ve been there. -Buck

I could’ve told you not to buy that truck. -Buck

Yeah you’d have talked me into buying something more expensive. -Eddie

At least be honest with me. -Buck

You don’t think, while you were going through your phase, just maybe you were throwing your punches at the wrong guy? -Buck

I’d still take you… wanna go for the title? -Buck

No matter what happens, I'm always gonna fight to come home to my family. -Eddie

You're always the one who leaves. You don't know what it's like to watch someone you love walk away. -Buck

But the thing about bad news. You never see it coming. -Bobby

Look, this moment is about you. It's not about what you're supposed to say. It should come from your heart. -Maddie

Season 4

So, let's try being scared together. -Chimney

You never give up. That's what being Buck means to me. But whatever you do, don't stop. -Athena

I have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you. -Buck

Nothing I ever did was good enough! -Buck

I have spent my entire life feeling like a constant disappointment. And you wanna talk about our jobs? You think my job is dangerous. I have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you. That is why I am in therapy because nothing I ever did was good enough! -Buck

You're allowed to give yourself some time, you know. To process. -Eddie

It's like the universe is screaming at you and you refuse to listen. -Buck

The universe does not scream. -Eddie

I know what it's like to be stuck inside the worst moment of your life. To be afraid to hope. To try again. -Bobby

Guess everyone has their breaking point. -Buck

Sometimes being lost is not knowing how to get from where we are to where we wanna be, where we need to be. -Buck

I am exactly like that woman. The day I forget that, that will be a very dangerous day. -Bobby

Hold on Eds -Buck

I need you to hold on. -Buck

You ok Buckley? -Captain Mehta

No. -Buck

I was just the guy standing there when it happened, who couldn’t do anything to protect him. -Buck

Still, I think it might have been better for him if I was the one who got shot. -Buck

Because, Evan, you came in here the other day and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot. You act like you’re expendable… but you’re wrong. -Eddie

It's in my will, if I die, you become Christopher's legal guardian. -Eddie

That’s what the 118 is, the family we choose. -Eddie

Season 5

Let this be a lesson. Never give Buck a clipboard. Never. -Chimney

Stay focused. You get distracted and people die. -Buck

You just need to learn how to stand your ground. Bullies don't back down unless you make them. -Harry

Because you don't talk to the women you're dating. You just go with the flow and find yourself in a relationship, with no idea how you got there and what to do when things start to go wrong. -Bobby

You know me. I don't always listen. -Buck

You could be dead next year! -Chris

Buck, you need to move on. I have. -Eddie

I got out of the ocean for you. For both of you. But I had to stay here to learn to stop running. -Maddie

What are you afraid of? -Buck

That I’m never gonna feel normal again. -Eddie

I wonder how many other people we inadvertently saved by saving someone else. -Hen

This is Firefighter Eddie Diaz. Metro dispatch is on fire. -Eddie

And I don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. -Buck

Shouldn't it be when you're at your worst, they're at their worst, you have every reason to give up and you still decide you want to try again. -Buck

Season 6

Buck, you don't even have a couch. -Chris

Maybe I don’t want to pick the wrong couch again. -Buck

You're a great firefighter. When you're all in, nobody goes harder than you. -Bobby

Are you capable of being a father and walking away? -Hen

It’s 5 o’clock somewhere. -Buck

Buck! Where the hell are you going? -Eddie

[squeakyfir]

I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 16

Previous ~ Next

And thus began the Vendetta ride. All through Cochise county, through Arizona to New Mexico. Wyatt knew this was going to be filled with bloodshed and how right he was. Wyatt would charge his horse through a window of a Saloon and shoot every cowboy inside it. Texas Jack, Creek Johnson and Sherman McMasters would also have no fear and charge into buildings and shoot the cowboys as well. Even you along with Doc would take some out. There was one instance in a hotel somewhere in Arizona where a cowboy was spotted.

You and Doc were stealthy as you got up the stairs and you kicked the door in and aimed your new shotgun at the cowboy. "Nobody move" you yelled, only to quickly realize that there were two naked women in bed with the cowboy. "Nonsense" Doc said, "By all means, move". You gave him a side glance and he walked out to take out another cowboy, leaving you to take care of the one in bed. It was an easy kill. After that, the ride continued, all throughout Arizona and it would eventually head to New Mexico.

Wyatt was out for blood. And so were you. Those cowboys took your best friend away and made your other best friend lose the use of an arm. You and Wyatt wanted revenge and the others knew it. They didn't dare to question it and offered their help, which was greatly appreciated.

More bloodshed was eminent when a tip about more cowboys being in Mescal Spring, Arizona was brought up. Especially Curly Bill. You all dismounted from your horses about half a mile away and went off, eventually reaching a small pond in a clearing in the woods. You were all being cautious and kept your guns out. Wyatt stood behind a tree and looked out, seeing nothing.

Suddenly, gunfire from across the pond shot out and nearly hit Wyatt and you all quickly dropped to the ground for cover, firing back. It was the cowboys. As you reloaded, you all heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Wyatt! How the hell are ya"!? It was Curly Bill. More gunfire was coming towards you all and there wasn't much you could do. "I got some boys over there behind ya! Got ya in a little crossfire. How do ya like that" Curly Bill yelled out but was then almost hit by one of Docs bullets which made Bill laugh.

"Come on! Think of something fast, would ya" McMasters yelled out. You were beside Doc and then heard Wyatt. "No".

"Wyatt" Doc asked. "Hey, Wyatt".

"No". Wyatt then stood up after reloading his shotgun and was now walking out into the shallow pond. "WYATT" you screamed. Curly Bill looked and saw Wyatt coming into the crossfire and was amazed but didn't waste a second to come towards him. "No" Bill yelled to stop the bullets. "Let me"! Bill started firing at Bill and was miraculously missing every shot until he eventually ran out of bullets in his six gun.

"No"!

"Son-of-a-bitch" Bill yelled and aimed his shotgun at Wyatt.

"NOOOO" Wyatt yelled and aimed his shotgun at Bill and fired twice into him, killing him immediately. All the cowboys were shocked and started firing at Wyatt but were also missing their shots and Wyatt took them down easily. You and the others quickly arose to join him and were wiping these cowboys out. When the remaining cowboys in this fight knew they wouldn't stand a chance, they fled. "YEAH" you yelled out, "YOU BETTER RUN YOU MOTHER FUCKING PUSSIES"! Texas Jack, Creek Johnson and Sherman McMasters were stunned. They had never heard a woman curse like that before.

"Where'd you learn words like that" McMasters asked.

"It's a long story" you replied. They wanted to know. It's not every day in this time period that you hear a woman curse like a sailor. You all headed back to your horses to plan your next move and Doc was laying on the ground, leaning up against his saddle he took off his horse. You sat beside him and were browsing on your phone, looking through the pictures and videos, just to see Morgan and Virgil again. You being from the future was already explained to the others and after an exhausting explanation of modern times, they seemed ok with it. They just wish they could see it with their own eyes.

"Did you ever see anything like that" Texas Jack asked Creek.

"Hell, I ain't never even heard of anything like that" Creek replied.

"Where is he" McMasters asked, referring to Wyatt.

"Down by the Creek" Doc replied and was also coughing a bit. "Walkin' on water".

"Well, let's hope he's got another miracle up his sleeve. 'Cause if I know Ringo, he's headed straight towards us. Well, if they were my brothers, I'd want revenge too".

"No, make no mistake. It's not revenge he's after. It's a reckonin'" Doc replied and was now standing up. You quickly put your phone away and made sure he was ok. "I'm fine, darlin'". He then started coughing harder and harder. "Doc" Creek Johnson said to get his attention. "You ought to be in bed. What the hell you doin' this for anyway"?

"Wyatt Earp is my friend".

"Hell, I got lots of friends".

"I don't". Normally, you would reply by saying, "Mood" but you said something different. You stood next to Doc to place a hand on his shoulder and said. "I don't either. But I got you. I got Wyatt and all of you. And sometimes, having only a few is better than none".

"Oh" Doc said sarcastically. "So, you see me as a friend now"?

"No! I see you as my soul mate" you said confidently. That little statement made Doc freeze and the others smile. "Is that so" Doc asked. "Well, I hope you'll be satisfied to know that I feel the same way about you". Your cheeks started turning red and was quickly acknowledged by the others which made you roll your eyes. "Listen, Darlin'. If I ever get better, after this is all over, I want to do somethin' I never thought I'd do".

"What's that"?

"You'll find out, soon. But for now, let's finish this".

[theghostpinesmusic]

Have I mentioned recently how much I love Phish?

I'm biased, of course, but I really feel like since COVID, and especially during the last two years, this band has managed to tap into something really special. I'm sure it has something to do with them playing together for the last forty-one years, but in all seriousness I've been listening at a pretty consistent level of obsession since 2000 or so and I'm confident in saying that they've never sounded as good to me as they do this year.

Their February Mexico run was incredible, the Sphere was amazing to watch even from home because, well, the Sphere, but those were also four of the best shows I've ever heard the band play back-to-back. I just finished my third listen through their new album Evolve, and while Phish is a band that's never been known for the quality of their studio albums, for what it's worth I think this is the best back-to-back album they've ever put out. I haven't watched any full shows from their currently-happening summer tour yet, but all the highlights I've watched on YouTube have been on par with Mexico and the Sphere.

Now with all of that hyperbolic positivity out of the way (or at least only lurking as context from here on), I want to go back to Mexico (2/23, specifically) for (quite) a few paragraphs.

Recently, I wrote about how "A Wave Of Hope" from the band's 2/22 show was an amazing jam and how 2/22 might somehow be The Best Phish Show Ever, and in that post explained how the show had been so good I took a break from watching the Mexico run because I sort of felt like 2/23 and 2/24 were going to be disappointments in comparison after the band had reached such a high-water mark on night two.

Well, during that little "break" I watched some Goose, did some backpacking, went to motherfucking Alaska for awhile, and when I came back I felt ready to finish the Mexico run.

And it turns out that 2/23 and 2/24 were both somehow as good as and maybe even better than 2/22, The Best Phish Show Ever?!

What the fuck.

So my one complaint about 2/22 as an entire show was that it took a little time to get going. That's not the case with 2/23: the band starts off the show with a relatively short but unhinged, jammy take on "Set Your Soul Free" that segues wonderfully into "Ghost." The "Ghost" jam recalls "Unholy Spaceships," according to my setlist notes before moving seamlessly into beloved (by me) old-school ballad "Fast Enough For You" and then new album title track "Evolve."

That whole initial sequence is fantastically played and paced, and while the rest of the first set maybe gets a little too "songy," "Mull" is always a fun Mike tune and "46 Days" and "Kill Devil Falls" both get weird and fun jams added to them (don't look at the timestamps and ignore them, just listen).

As usual, the real meat of the improvisation comes in the second set. A bit unlike 2/22 (and 2/24, which I'll eventually write something brief about despite there being no official highlight videos shared from it), 2/23's second set doesn't spread the jammy goods out across a bunch of songs: the opening "Blaze On" gets way out there in a glorious way, but the second half of the set ("Beneath A Sea Of Stars" > "Backwards Down The Number Line" > "Harry Hood") sort of ends up functioning as a long, well-played breather after this absolute Gods-Of-Chaos-And-Old-NIght version of "Chalkdust Torture."

If 2/22 is, inexplicably, The Best Phish Show Ever, then this "Chalkdust Torture" from 2/23 might well be, equally inexplicably, The Best Phish Jam Ever. Let's see if I can survive watching it a second time! Nothing like tempting fate.

The noise-rock you hear at the beginning of the video is the end of the aforementioned "Blaze On" jam, then about twenty seconds in, Trey starts up the chords to "Chalkdust Torture," which is just a nice, fun, short rock and roll tune, right? RIGHT?!

Well, now, Phish is a fantastic jam band, and might well be the best of all of them there jam bands, but they do have a tendency to ease their way into the weirder jam spaces, taking a few minutes to transition out of the ending of a proper song and into legit Type 2 improvisation. I'm not saying this is either inherently good or bad, just observing that the weirdness tends to seep in gradually, unlike, say, the "Borne" that I wrote about yesterday, where Goose brings the song to a full stop before launching off in a sudden, ninety-degree improvisational turn. Trey and Phish seem to prefer to take their time in comparison.

BUT NOT THIS TIME because after a nice little Trey solo, "Chalkdust Torture" proper ends at the 5:45 mark in the video, and by 5:55, ten seconds later, we're in The Space Robot Factory, manufacturing war droids for the Galactic Empire. I think this transition might in part have been because Trey seems to totally biff the song's usual outro, but who fucking cares?

Around 6:20, Fishman builds up a little shuffle and things take on a "Possum"-like feel, but only for a few seconds, as the beat breaks down again quickly and we're in an almost ambient space by 7:00.

There's a major-key shift at 7:25, and the menace of the early jam is replaced by a nice, peaceful feeling. Everyone's contributing here, but Page's synths are the champ, creating the cloud my brain is floating away on top of.

By 8:15, Trey is asserting himself a bit more, throwing out some reverb-y intergalactic noodling. We're already to the "What the fuck is Jon Fishman?" part of the program (seriously, how is he even playing what he's playing here?!).

By the 9:00 mark, things have become more distinct melodically and the ambient feel has faded a bit, though Page continues to add some dopamine-generating synth washes. I can't hear Mike super-well on my headphones, but when I can...ohhhh buddy.

Trey moves over to his effects pedal at 10:00 to start messing with his octave shifter, but seems to give up on that pretty quickly and instead goes for a whale-call-ish tone that complements Mike's sound really well. Fish moves over to the toms, officially making this the most Phish has sounded like Goose this entire run.

12:45 almost sounds like the band is working their way back into "Chalkdust Torture," but thankfully they do not. Nothing against the song, of course, but we're barely a quarter of the way into this madness at this point! If you're like more structure to your jamming, though, this section feels a bit more like "normal" Phish, though Fishman continues conjuring Percussion Magic throughout, never letting things get too predictable.

By 14:15, Trey and Page have a bit of a call-and-response thing going, which contrasts really nicely with the chaos of the rhythm section.

The band coalesces around a fun shuffle at 15:30 (and I really dig the lights here, too), and they could totally ride this to the end of the jam and this would already be one of 2024's more interesting jams. But that is not where this is going. Instead, the shuffle lasts for about thirty seconds before Trey switches his tone and Page moves to the clav. By 16:30 we're in a completely different space...again. And Mike is driving now. Hold on.

Trey builds on Mike's playing at 17:00 with a grungy tone and then, somehow, we end up in a blues jam by 18:00. What the hell is happening

If nothing else, this bit is a small bus station bench of Sanity for us to sit on in-between rides on Dr. Doom's Toon-Killing Machine.

Someone howls at 19:20? I'm going to guess it was probably Trey, because it seems like something he would do.

The blues jam proper only makes it about two minutes before various band members start injecting sonic chaos into the proceedings. The madness colonizes the jam and, by 23:00 we are once again working our fingers to the bone in The Space Robot Factory.

I am not even sure how to describe what's happening here. The lights, somehow, match the vibe completely. It sounds like if the only instruments Parliament had had access to had been a box of 56k baud modems.

To be clear, I can totally understand why some people - most people - would not only find this uninteresting, they would likely actively hate it. And yet, for my money, it is the weirdest, most fun, most without-a-net music out there, and there's only one band that's ever been able to take the genre this far. And they just keep going.

Fishman takes a more active role in the jam starting at 26:30, and in response Page starts playing something that sounds sort of hopeful and pleasant, briefly. But then Mike and then Trey both turn their instruments' tones to "Monster Eating You Alive In Your Four-Year-Old-Kid Nightmares" and it's like "Oh well."

NOW WE ARE IN HELL AGAIN FOLKS

Again, not totally sure how to describe the music because it literally cannot exist unless Phish specifically decides to make it.

By 28:30, it literally sounds like each member of the band is playing a different song. But not like when the Grateful Dead do it. Like, actually good.

OOOOH HOT TAKE INCOMING

No, I love the Dead (obviously), but I read something once in Long, Strange Trip about the band being a bunch of guys who were all absolute geniuses at their respective instruments but who were all too busy wailing away to listen to each other, and I've never been able to un-read that. This sounds like the opposite of that to me, as weird and unhinged as the music nonetheless is. Your mileage may vary.

Who starts playing the weird, wavy effect at 28:40 because when I was watching this while super-high a week or so ago, I could NOT HANDLE THAT SHIT

Trey bludgeons us with some fiery guitar leads at 29:30, but by this point there are too many fully-assembled Space Robots of The Galactic Empire for it to make much of an impact.

It is hard to imagine that, at 30:30, anyone in the audience is not having the best time they've ever had at a concert. This is, as the kids say, why we Phish.

But what's that?! "More evil!" you say?! Well, you're in fucking luck! Page's piano playing here sounds like something you'd hear at a wake for a ghost that had already died once a hundred years before. Like, I'm pretty sure this is what the Piano Ghost plays at The Haunted Mansion once Disney World shuts down forever in 2073 and everyone goes home and never comes back and the whole theme park just gets rotted by time for a hundred years.

By 32:45, I would not be at all surprised to find that, thousands of years from now and light-years away from Earth, this sound is the thing that finally wakes some super-intelligent alien race from its aeons-long slumber and causes it to turn its dread Eye toward a now-desertified and human-less Earth and mumble through its many mouths in an eldritch language as old as the first galaxies: "What the fuck, dude?"

The chording that Trey pulls out around 34:45 feels like the culmination of this unbelievably strange and alien-waking journey. It's simple playing, technically, compared to much of what's already gone into this jam at this point, but it's incredibly effective at just absolutely smashing you with the core ethos of this forty-minute odyssey.

So, was everyone on the beach just...dead? Like, after this jam? Was everyone dead? I'm going to assume yes.

Like the Fisher King or Neo in The Matrix Revolutions, we continue to stagger forward through bruised time, legs shaking, blindfolded to cover eyes that have been burned away by direct exposure to the Light Of Eternity, hoping to find some peace somewhere on the ravaged land before our own damned end!

Blessedly, the assault finally begins to lessen by 38:00, rolling back like the World Ocean after leaving our ark and the few surviving beings of Earth stranded upon a mountaintop that was, recently, an island.

Page injects a scintilla of levity into the proceedings with some bleeps and boops, but then follows it immediately with a "Shipwreck" sample as Trey continues to play The Evil Chords, albeit in muted form, the dark enchantment lessened now but still puissant.

"Are you too near the shore?" the ghostly voice asks amidst the sonic chaos, mocking we few survivors left high and dry at the conclusion of this plunge into Madness.

Page returns to his synthesizers, wavering between major and minor, survival and destruction, eschewing resolution, as the jam winds to its end.

It's not included in this video, but the jam ultimately segues into "Beneath A Sea Of Stars," the perfect follow-up choice and a great musical tonic for the Lovecraftian horror of this "Chalkdust Torture." If you happened to listen/read this far and enjoyed it, I'd recommend listening to that as a follow up if you're able, because it actually feels like the two songs are intended to be one journey.

Anyway, that was wild, and I had fun being a little wackier in my description of it than usual. There aren't any official band vids on YouTube from 2/24, but it's such a great show and sits in equal company with 2/22 and 2/23 that I'll likely write a little thing about it here soon. Then it'll be back to Goose for a bit!

I think. I mean, I love Goose too, but how do you go back to another jam band after...that? Huh.

[atdmoney1]

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One common cause of overspending is wanting to treat yourself, often as a response to social pressures such as maintaining an image or keeping up with friends. But remember, treating yourself doesn't have to be expensive: there are plenty of ways you can indulge yourself without breaking the bank, such as taking a bubble bath or going for a hike.

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[notsowrites]

As I Reached For You

A 4x06 Malex Coda

A/N: I have so many thinky thoughts about where this whole "Alex was quicksanded" is going. But I of course needed to write out one of the more angsty one.

[AO3 Link]

---------

"You made it."

Michael rolls his eyes, dropping into the empty seat across from Max's desk. He's intimately familiar with all aspects of the sheriff's department, having spent most of the past decade locked in the holding cell for the most inconsequential of things. But this whole thing feels different, starting with Max asking him to come into the office. But who knows, maybe it's because he's powerless now. There's no alien telepathy happening these days. He's all but human.

A choice taken away from him by yet another person who believes they know best.

"Need help figuring out that proposal for Liz?"

Max frowns at him, as if he's confused by the question."No, I - you haven't heard anything from Alex have you?"

Michael shakes his head. He's trying to keep his cool these days, knowing that Alex is traipsing around the desert where cell service is spotty. But the truth is, between Mimi's death, and his own fight against human illness, the silence on Alex's end is beginning to worry him.

Surely Alex has been somewhere with cell service by now.

"He said he might be out of range."

Max nods, but he doesn't look convinced, opening up the manila folder that's sitting on the desk in front of him, spinning it around so it's facing Michael.

There's a photograph there of an SUV.

A very familiar looking SUV.

"That's Alex's-"

"I know, we ran the plates."

Michael pushes off the chair, listening as it screeches against the linoleum floor.

"Is he alive?"

"There's no sign of him."

He doesn't understand. Alex was just collecting weather balloons. This wasn't something dangerous, his bigoted father is gone, there's no one left who is going to try and kidnap Alex these days.

Max points to something in the photo of Alex's truck, and Michael glances down.

"See that? It's alien."

"The locusts," he sighs, picking up the photo to get a better look. Sure enough, there are multiple spots all across the windshield, similar to what happened to his console and the locust he and Liz tried to dissect.

"The what?"

"Liz brought a specimen to me, a genetically modified locust with alien guts. When we tried to look at it, it yeeted itself across the room and splattered across my console."

"What does that have to do with Alex?"

Michael drops the photo on the desk, making sure Max is paying attention as he points to the markings on the windshield glass. "Locust guts."

"I don't understand. Why would alien locusts be attracted to Alex?"

Michael rolls his eyes again, but stands up and reaches under the neck of his shirt to grab his half of the alien glass necklace he'd made. "Because before he left, I gave Alex the other half of this."

"You gave Alex alien glass?"

As much as Michael would like to get into the finer points of his relationship with Max, now with this new information that Alex's truck was abandoned, he feels like he needs to get out of this office and find him. But where to even start looking? The New Mexico desert is vast and it wasn't like they could just pick a place to start and hope they find him.

He's pushing to stand up and head out, ignoring Max's calls of protest when he wonders if this is his fault. Alex had asked him to take the console to Deep Sky, to run diagnostics on it to potentially make tracking down the weather balloons easier. And he'd refused. He'd let his own insecurities take over as though Alex wasn't worth trusting with it. And he'd done so just long enough for Alex to change his plans so that he didn't need the console, and could get along fine without it.

Was he the reason Alex had gone missing?

If he had his abilities, if Bonnie hadn't sucked them right out of him under her misguided attempt to save him, Michael knows things would be shaking and he'd be working to clamp down the excess of chaos inside him. He'd let the anger bubble over a little, the tiniest of releases to satisfy the itch.

Now all he does is slam his hand against the wall.

"Where'd they find his truck, Max?"

"Michael, don't do anything stupid-"

He turns around, ready to grab the folder off Max's desk.

"I need to find him, Max."

"And we will, but you're still sick and you're powerless. Just wait-"

He feels that anger at himself bubbling back to the surface.

"If this was Liz, if she was potentially missing, you wouldn't be sitting here behind a desk."

Alex is missing and Max is wrong to think he is going to sit calmly around while they devise a plan of action. He doesn't care right now that there's a crazy shape shifting alien who doesn't care if he's dead or alive.

He storms out of the office, and out of the building. If Max isn't going to help, that's fine. He'll figure it out himself.

—-------

"Spending time in a hole in the ground wasn't on my to-do list while I was visiting, ya know."

Rosa stands at the bottom of the ladder in the bunker, looking around in slight wonder. He guessed for someone who's never been down here, the place is probably slightly overwhelming with the amount of stuff he has.

"You're the only person who can help me with this." Michael slides the alien glass necklace over his head and holds it out to Rosa. "I need you to find something with this frequency."

She takes the necklace, inspecting it for a moment, before looking up at him.

"Here or-?"

He shakes his head. "We're going for a drive."

"Gonna need a little more than that if I'm cutting into my sister time."

He hates needing to talk so much when all he wants to do is get to the coordinates Max had given him, the location of where the state police bad found Alex's car abandoned, and search for him. He doesn't even know what he expects to find or why he thinks they'll even find Alex out there in the middle of the desert, but it's the only lead he has and it's not like Max can send a search party out to look for someone wearing a shimmery necklace that reacts when you touch it.

It's then he realizes Rosa appears to be missing the most important part of this whole thing.

"Alex is missing. They found his car abandoned outside town. Did Liz not tell you?"

She shakes her head. "She just said you needed my help."

That's so Liz, he thinks. He knows she's preoccupied at the moment studying his now normal cells in hopes to science together a cure.

"But I don't understand something," Rosa continues, finger running over the alien glass as it shimmers under her touch. "How is a necklace going to help us find Alex?"

"Because Alex has the other half. And I have to hope that wherever he is, he's wearing it."

—-------

Rosa stands in the precise location of the spot where Alex's car had been found. The battery had been dead, the report had said, keys still in the ignition. But all Michael can see around for miles is sand and dirt. It had been half buried, as if a wind storm had rolled through at some point. But that was what led to someone discovering it, and to the state police getting involved.

All things they can worry about later.

"I - there's nothing here, Michael."

He was afraid that might happen. It was the easiest starting point, to think Alex was with the truck somewhere. Even if he refuses to even consider what it would mean for Alex to be buried underneath the sand this way.

That's not even going to be a possibility to him. Alex is alive. He knows he is.

"Are you sure?" He can't help asking.

Rosa turns back away from him, closing her eyes and he waits. He can hear her talking to herself, but can't make out the words. She'd done the same thing when he'd been teaching her how to focus, to catalog each sound in order to isolate the one she needed.

He almost doesn't see when she moves, taking a few steps away from him, as if walking towards something.

She holds out her hand, the necklace dangling from her fingers. "Michael! Take this, so I can focus."

He runs out to her, hopeful it means she found something. The necklace immediately goes over his head and back around his neck, and he takes a couple steps back to give her space.

"There's something - it's faint. Almost like I can't hear it. But there's something…"

She keeps moving, a few steps here, a few more steps there. And Michael wonders how bad the interference from the earth is that she's having this much trouble. But he's asked her to find the smallest piece of glass in the wide open desert - this was never going to be easy.

But he had to try.

"H-here," she finally announces, stopping. "It's here."

Shovel in hand, he digs.

It's his only focus, that they may find Alex.

He doesn't think about how he's digging up dirt and rock and sand. How no one could actually survive this.

He just digs.

Eventually he abandons the shovel, getting down on his hands and knees. Whatever Rosa heard, whatever is down here, he is going to find it.

—-------

Even covered in sand and dirt, Alex Manes is the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on. His hair is matted to his head from the days underground, the necklace still hanging around his neck. Michael presses their foreheads together, softly touching their lips together as the tears roll down his cheeks.

He can't be dead.

He can't.

This isn't how this was supposed to go. Moving in together was supposed to be the beginning. They were building a life together, wasn't that was Alex said?

"Max," Michael sobs into the phone that he's barely able to hang onto. "I need you."

Time passes differently as he sits in the middle of the open desert, cradling Alex's body.

This is his fault. He'd panicked, refused to trust Alex with the console. Had made Alex go traipsing around the desert chasing weather balloons without a plan.

It didn't have to be like this.

"I can't save him, Michael."

He feels the anger bubbling up beneath the surface again.

"Just heal him. Do that thing you do best."

"I can't." There's something different in Max's voice. Regret, maybe. "I asked Bonnie to take my powers."

Michael drops the phone to the ground.

What I can't live without is you, Alex had told him just a week ago. But how was he supposed to live without Alex? How was he supposed to care about this planet, about staying here, when the one person who had tethered him here for the past decade was gone? The one person who made him first believe this planet could be home.

He pushes his hand against Alex's chest, above his heart. He tries to not think about how Alex's chest isn't moving, there's no air traveling to his lungs. That his heart isn't pumping blood anymore to keep him alive.

"You said you can't live without me," he sobs, bent over Alex's body. "But what about me?"

He was supposed to marry Alex. They were supposed to get married, and start a family. They were gonna grow old together. This was supposed to only be the beginning.

Not the end.

"What about me?" He asks again.

Palm still pressed against Alex's chest, Michael starts to sing. He doesn't know if Rosa can hear, doesn't really care either. The words to a song he's only heard once. He pauses every so often to gently kiss Alex's lips, to not think about how they feel wrong. He sobs the lyrics out word by word, remembering the way Alex had looked at him that night six months ago when he'd kissed him outside the Pony. The way Alex had laid his head on his shoulder afterwards, lips pressed to the skin of his neck.

This isn't how their story ends.

The ground starts to quake but he barely feels it.

Michael opens his eyes to see his hand glowing red.

He'd almost lost Alex once. That day he'd maneuvered his way into Deep Sky, only to find Alex teetering on the edge of a ledge. It had been one of the most terrifying moments in his life. A feeling he'd never wanted to repeat. One wrong move, one wrong step, and Alex would have been gone forever.

But he hadn't lost him that day. He'd gotten there in time. He'd found him.

Because they were just finally getting the chance they always should have gotten. They were going to go on that date and hold hands while walking down Main Street. And they were going to start the rest of their lives together.

"This planet isn't home without you in it," he says after he stops singing.

Beneath his hand, Alex's chest moves.

Spitting up sand and dirt, he watches as Alex reaches out to grab onto his shirt, opening his eyes finally.

"Michael."

He's alive.

He's alive.

Michael let's the tears come, feels them streaming down his cheeks, dropping into his shirt.

"I got you," he says, keeping his arms wrapped around Alex. "I got you."

But Alex won't stay still pushing against him, looking around the open desert, as if searching for someone. "Where is she?"

"Where's who?"

"She said - she said I was a contingency plan."

Michael shakes his head in disbelief. Tezca? Had she followed Alex out here as he began his weather balloon search?

"Someone did this?"

Alex nods, pushing himself to sit up, though immediately reaching back to take his hand again. As if Alex needs the touch as much as he does. He watches Alex glance around again, focusing for a moment on Rosa sitting on the tailgate of his truck not far away, phone pressed tight to her ear.

"How'd you - what happened?"

"You died," he replies, voice quiet. It feels less significant in this moment now that Alex is alive in front of him. He glances down at his hands and realizes he brought Alex back.

Bonnie had taken his abilities. She'd made him human. How had he been able to save Alex?

"What's wrong?"

Of course Alex notices. Back alive and of course he senses something is off.

"She stole my abilities. She made me human. But - I just - that shouldn't have been possible." He stares down at his hands, wondering what happened to allow him to bring Alex back to life. That he was suddenly able to heal just like Max.

Like Jones.

He reaches out, trying to move something, anything in the vicinity.

Nothing.

Alex takes hold of his hand, pressing it against his heart, keeping his own on top, and Michael looks up at him, meeting his gaze.

"We'll figure it out. Okay?"

Michael nods. Because it feels much more possible to do something, to believe something, when he's got Alex by his side.

[hekateinhell]

Vamptember, Day 1

Armand/Daniel | Prompt: Road Trip | Rated: T | Word Count: 1170

“You’re hungry.” 

Armand’s deadpan voice cuts through the fog in his head as he slides a packet of ham slices and a bag of peanuts across the dingy check-out counter at the rest stop. Adds a pack of Jelly Beans for good measure. 

He’s getting better at picking out food. 

“I’m not hungry.” On cue, Daniel’s stomach betrayed him, rumbling loud enough that Armand wouldn’t need his vampiric senses to hear it. Reminding him he hasn’t eaten since that cold slice of pizza at 7:04 AM as he’d watched the sun come up through the motel window. 

All it had taken was the influence of a movie, followed by an advertisement. Armand decided he wanted to see “real America” by virtue of a road trip. Never mind the sheer impracticality of being able to drive less than half the day. He had nothing but time, and Daniel had anything but a choice.

— 

“You should be wearing a jacket,” Daniel mutters, shoving the gas pump into the car. 

Armand stares at him in that weird, unblinking way he does, and when he smiles, it's almost sweet. "I don't get cold," he says. For some reason, he'd followed Daniel out of the car, even though they're not really stopping here.

"I'm aware," Daniel rolls his eyes as he leans against the Mustang; not the fanciest car Armand has ever shown up with. "It's a December night in New Mexico, and you're wearing a skimpy crop top and those god-awful pants. People will think you're crazy."

“God-awful, Daniel? Are you certain?” Armand laughs, and the sound makes Daniel relax in spite of himself. 

"I have these too," Armand says after a moment, matter-of-fact, reaching to touch the red, heart-shaped sunglasses nestling on the crown of his head, placed so as not to disturb the curls currently trying to obscure his face with every gust of the dry desert wind.

Two stops ago, Daniel had left Armand alone long enough to go take a piss in peace. Hadn't realized the rest stop sold cheap clothes and nick-knacks; his mistake. Tried to tell Armand those were women's clothes, the cut and dip on the top were obviously meant to emphasize breasts. "It doesn't concern me," Armand had shrugged, sliding a $5 over the counter, adding the sunglasses. "I saw these in a film."

A perfect explanation and then some. 

“Hey, sweet tits!”

A trucker's walking by, close enough to get an eyeful of Armand, far enough that he’s missing all the little flashing neon warning signs Daniel thinks are quite pronounced under the stark white-grey lighting. He makes an obscene gesture with his fingers and tongue, and a wave of revulsion rolls through Daniel's stomach when it occurs to him the image Armand presents to this misguided, perverted excuse of a man.

From ten feet away, with his mid-drift exposed in the cold air, those ridiculous, red-rimmed sunglasses, the dark auburn curls dusting over his pale shoulders—Armand looks for all the world a young, blatantly under-developed teenage girl.

The predator hasn’t realized he’s singling himself out as potential prey, but really, who would? There's a stagger in his step, too; he's under the influence of something. Not close enough to perceive the absence of a single pore or wrinkle on that smooth, white skin; the dark brown eyes that are simultaneously too evocative, drowned out, and haunted to ever, even on a purely subconscious level, be mistaken for a human’s.

Armand follows him with his gaze, otherwise rigid as a marble statute, as the man swaggers past them into the convenience store.

“What a treat. He envisions fucking me and killing me,” he murmurs, his accent underscoring the vulgarity of fuck and kill. “In which order, I cannot be sure.”

With a subtle startle and a thrill, Daniel realizes there haven’t been too many opportunities for Armand to feed since they started their little misadventure.

“I’m old enough that I don’t have to feed every night,” he’d said when Daniel was scrambling for reasons to dig his heels and not find himself trapped along Route 66 for endless nights with Armand in a manic mood.

“Isn’t it wonderful, beloved?”

Rest assured, Armand takes little drinks from him each night when he creeps in at dusk, curling his body over Daniel’s still sleeping form on the cheap polyester duvet. Armand’s evening greeting the gentlest press of his fangs in an open-mouthed kiss to Daniel’s throat.

Can’t possibly be sustainable; neither would leaving dead housekeeping and gas station workers everywhere they go. Can you imagine the headlines? Daniel could—it’d been his name on the bylines once upon a time.

“Start the car, Daniel,” Armand grins suddenly, breathtakingly sinister in its childish delight when Daniel understands the implication. The sunglasses come down to cover half his face as he strides towards the promising glow that had enveloped his midnight meal.

—

“Switch,” Armand commands when he returns, running a hand to smooth down his hair and adjust his mussed top.

He’s getting used to the “modern vernacular,” as it were.

Daniel smells the blood, the saltiness, on him, inside him. His cheeks are flushed, the curves of his lips colored in, to a degree Daniel can’t hope to match with his meager offerings.

Armand turns his head, those shiny, heart-shaped lenses reflecting Daniel’s own confused, annoyed, guilty, lustful expression back at him. A not uncommon muddle of desire, jealousy, awe, and exhilaration makes his heart pound in his chest, his throat dry.

To take life like that, to be the ultimate arbitrator, to play God…

“Armand, the road,” Daniel manages.

He doesn’t move, and neither does his mouth, stamped into its youthful pout. “Look around, beloved. There's no one here.”

“You’re going 95!”

“Is that too fast?” His voice laced with an edge that had gone undetected when it was rattling around Daniel’s skull.

“Yeah, knock it off!” The car wasn’t designed to be abused like this, and its disapproval is loud and clear.

Armand ignores them both, the speed gauge inching to 100, 109, 117, 120.

God is not a game I play, Daniel. You are the only one of us truly still living by any virtue of the word, and you will it all away.

Do you know what I would give to be in your place, to see the sunrise one last time? Do you not see how fast a worthy lifetime passes?

Just like this.

“Armand!”

143 now, only one hand slack on the wheel.

Daniel sees the crash play out in his mind, Armand walking away from the pile of metal and gore without so much as a backward glance.

The copper scent hangs more potent in the air for a moment, suffocating in the enclosed space. Armand turns away, the needle slowly, mercifully creeping back down.

Daniel's catching his breath, amazed he hadn't shit himself, biting back the scathing retort he doesn't yet have when Armand drops something in his lap.

The $0.50 sunglasses in two pieces, broken at the bridge.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Angrily in love

Summary: Wanda and Reader are on the run after a mission goes wrong, and they do not have a good relationship. When Wanda is approached in a diner by strange men, Reader confronts them. And some other things. Based on prompt from stay-casual, thanks again dear.

Warnings: Language; All fluff, but also humor. enemies stubborn idiots to lovers.

Words: 3.002 K ////// Read on AO3

Marks > @stay-casual @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

You and Wanda didn't get along very well.

Which was a problem since you were running away together.

It all started two and a half weeks ago, and honestly, you would blame Steve if anyone asked.

You were both assigned to an infiltration mission into a drug trafficking headquarters in Mexico. It was not your typical job, but there was evidence of Hydra involvement.

And so you and Wanda were team partners, and everything was going very well, until she pissed you off for some reason, and the two of you started to argue. Maybe you miscalculated the impact of your words, because the second you call her "angry little witch" Wanda used her magic to push you, but before you could think of fighting back, there were about fifteen rifles pointed at both of you.

Disguise completely blown, Wanda was quick enough to get you two out of there, and with the entire country on alert, you needed to keep a low profile until it was safe to return to the compound.

So now you were forced to deal with each other's company, and you broke your cell phone when Natasha sent a emoji and a message telling you guys to enjoy your vacation.

At this moment you were driving the van that you managed to steal from the barracks before you left, while Wanda slept in the passenger seat. You reached out to turn on the radio for a bit, but when you started humming the music, it stopped playing. Looking quickly to see what had happened, you let out an incredulous sigh as you saw the familiar red light dissipate in the air.

- I'm sleeping. - Wanda grumbled, and you frowned in irritation as you turned on the radio again.

- Not my problem.

The music started again, but then stopped. You let out a angry whimper.

- Be quiet. - She said without opening her eyes.

And then you turned the sound back on. And Wanda turned it off. And then you did it again. This went on for three minutes, until you hit the brakes, and Wanda opened her eyes with the sudden movement.

- My God, what is your problem? - She shouted, and you ignored the honking sounds behind you as you took the keys off.

- You know what, Maximoff? - You replied angrily, unbuckling your seat belt. - You're driving now.

You dropped the key in her lap, and got out of the vehicle. Turning around, you opened the back door of the van and climbed in. You heard Wanda grumble angrily as she jumped into the driver's seat, but you just leaned against the wall of the van and closed your eyes. A minute after she started the car, you heard the sound of the radio.

Ignoring the urge to break the equipment, you decided to fall asleep.

//-//

Driving for about three hours, Wanda finally parked the van. The lack of movement woke you up, and you yawned lightly as you stretched.

You heard the door open and close, and caught a glimpse of Wanda's red hair as she walked away from the van, so you got out next.

It was a motel, and judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot, it was decent enough to not have diseases in the sheets.

You hurried to catch up with Wanda, and when she entered the reception area, she didn't hold the door, and you almost hit your face on the wood. Swearing softly, you then entered.

- Good evening. - You heard her greet the receptionist, who didn't look very pleased to serve more people. - Two rooms please.

- Sorry, honey. - He said chewing on a small stick between his teeth. - We only have one spare room.

- Wait, what?

- It's the season for Los Muertos, senorita. - clarified the man, and seeing Wanda's expression, he added. - All the places will be crowded with tourists, you are lucky to find anything available around here. - He says with a fake disappointment in his voice.

Wanda let out a sigh, while you were distracted by the fish in the aquarium on the premises.

- It's okay, Wanda, you can sleep on the couch. - You tease without looking at her, but she ignores your comment and hands the money for the room to the receptionist.

- Have a nice stay. If you want something to eat besides the minibar, there is a dinner behind the pool area. - The man says as he hands over the key. Wanda doesn't smile, and leaves the place, you lightly tap your fingers on the aquarium while smiling at the fish before following her.

You two walk to the room in silence, and you sigh as you enter, observing the place. It was simple, yet cozy. The redhead commented softly "thank god" when she notices that there are two beds, and threw the bag she was carrying on top of one of them, before walking to the bathroom, while you start looking for the remote control.

//-//

Two days sharing the same room, and you were surprised that you hadn't killed each other yet. There were a few arguments, mainly over having to share the television, or the delay in the shower, but otherwise things were going pretty well.

It was lunchtime, and you had just used the street phone to try to get in touch with Natasha when you saw Wanda leave the room in the direction of the dinner. She gave you an angry look before she left, and you rolled your eyes before following her, after all, you were starving.

- Why are you following me? - she asked angrily as you walked beside her.

- I'm not following you, I'm going to lunch. The restaurant is not yours. - You retort, and she rolls her eyes.

- God, and you have to have lunch with me now?

- Who says I'm having lunch with you? - you retort impatiently. - I intend to sit fifteen tables away.

- Great!

- Great indeed! - You retort as she opens the door and hurries inside, taking a seat at one of the first empty tables. You curse softly to yourself, and then enter the restaurant.

Unfortunately the only empty table you can find is the one in front of Wanda, and you can see her staring angrily at you. You smile wryly in her direction, and she waves her middle finger at you. But then the waitress approaches, and she looks away. You scold yourself for holding your gaze on her longer than necessary, and then you are served next.

The restaurant was considerably crowded, there were many groups of diverse people eating together, and you noticed that there were also truck drivers, and families, and even young people your own age. Fortunately the service was very good, and soon you were having some fries and meat.

You were finishing your milkshake, slightly distracted by the newspaper that was left on the table for the customers, when a sound of male laughter caught your attention.

Two men, considerably older than you, approached Wanda's table, both exchanging mischievous laughs.

- Come on, let's ask her out. - You heard one of them remark with a chuckle. And then you were already getting up, anger boiling in your chest.

- Hi there, sweetheart, what's your name?

- I'll give you five seconds to leave before I shove my shoe up your ass! - you shouted before Wanda could answer anything. Both men looked at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

- Who the hell are you? - One of them sneered, but you shoved him hard enough to make him realize that you were no ordinary girl as he stumbled backwards, his eyes flashed with fear.

- Leave her alone.

The man stumbled backwards poking his friend in the chest, and they both gave you a angry look before leaving. The restaurant was bubbling over with small comments, but you exchanged a glance with the waitress and she didn't seem willing to kick you out for this.

You turned to Wanda next, and she had a very annoyed expression on her face.

- Fine, Wanda, what is it? - you asked impatiently when noticing her face.

- I don't need your help. - She retorted angrily. - I can handle these things just fine on my own.

- Wow, you are really ungrateful. - You sneer, crossing your arms. You look around for a moment, and notice that men in the same profile are still assessing Wanda from afar. You feel your body boil with irritation at the malicious looks they cast at her, and you stare back at them, a murderous expression on your face. They exchange a startled look and you wait for them to stop looking before turning your attention to the redhead - Can I sit with you?

- Excuse me? - she asks angrily, but doesn't even wait for you to answer. - No way! Piss off!

- You are so annoying. - You grumble before going back to your desk.

But you're not even hungry anymore, feeling a strange irritation at the tip of your stomach as you remember the way the men looked at Wanda, so you take the last sips of your milkshake and stand up again. Wanda pretends you don't exist as you walk past her table, and you roll your eyes at the childishness.

- Good afternoon. - You greet the cashier with a smile. - Sorry for the mess. The idiots were harassing my...colleague.

The cashier smiles, accepting the money you gave her. Then she frowns at the amount, and you clear your throat when you say to include Wanda's table bill as well, and she just nods in agreement.

- She's a pretty girl. - The cashier comments as she separates the money. You make a noise of agreement, without really paying attention. - She seems like the kind of girl who breaks not only boys' hearts.

She gives you a suggestive look, and you blink in surprise, averting your eyes and feeling your face heat up.

- Thank you. - You grumble as you get your change.

Leaving the restaurant afterwards, you chide yourself for immediately looking for Wanda through the windows. Turning your head forward, you go back to your room.

//-//

Wanda really got annoyed with your little scene in the restaurant, and didn't talk to you when she came back to the room, not that you were complaining.

And then it was time for her to watch some stupid program, and you left the room, because you were not in the mood of arguing about who's turn it is to watch.

You thought about getting a drink, so you returned to the restaurant, which at this time was considerably emptier.

The cashier from earlier was now serving tables, and smiled at you when you sat down at the counter.

- What will you have, dear? - She asked.

- A hot chocolate please. - You asked, leaning your elbow on the table and your face in your hand. With your free hand you tapped your fingers lightly against the counter.

It didn't take long to get your order, and you and you got a little pensive when the waitress returned, wiping the counter beside you.

- That was quite a scene earlier today. - She comments with a smile. You laugh, slightly embarrassed, but willing to talk.

- Yeah, sorry about that.

- No problem, sweetie. - She comments. - Young people are always so nervous when jealous.

You choke in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

- Jealous? I wasn't...

The waitress giggles, placing the cloth on her left shoulder.

- It's all good, child. - she says. - My husband used to be jealous of truck drivers in this region too. And with a beautiful girlfriend like that, I imagine it's hard for you.

She remarks with a smile before going to serve another customer, and you widen your eyes in surprise, feeling your face very warm.

Then you spent the next five minutes frowning, repeating how absurd it was that anyone would insinuate that you were jealous of Wanda, until the waitress was back again, serving you a doughnut that you didn't ask for but accepted anyway.

- Just to clarify. - You start between one bite and another. - I am not jealous.

The waitress giggles, arranging a few things on the counter.

- I also noticed that you two sat at separate tables, reminded me of my Miguel. - She says with a smile. - We used to fight so much that he would sleep on the balcony.

You laugh lightly, running your hand through your hair.

- But you know, all the fights were just an excuse to get each other's attention. - She says, leaning her hands on the counter in front of you. - To this day, I still believe he would leave the key off the key chain just to hear me grumble and squeeze my butt when he apologized. - She says with a smile that makes you laugh.

And then she is pouring you some more chocolate, and you are ignoring the growing nervousness in your stomach at the thought of her insinuations that you and Wanda were like a couple fighting.

- Rosa. - You call out after reading her name on the badge, she looks at you curiously. - How... How did you know you were in love?

- During a fight, of course. - She says, laughing. - We are in high school, and we had a fight during a soccer game. It was so hilarious. We started fighting about who would play the penalty kick for our team, and one of our classmates tried to get into an argument with me, and Miguel punched him in the nose, yelling that no one could fight with me but him.

You widen your eyes in surprise, but then laugh, finding the story a bit absurd. But the waitress has a nostalgic look in her eyes, as if she is missing something, and you frown.

- What... what happened to Miguel?

You watch her smile slowly die, and something in her gaze change. And then you cough uncomfortably, feeling a pain in your stomach.

- My Miguel was trying to improve our life when the German agents arrived. - She said in a somber tone. You stumbled out of your seat, trying to breathe. - The avengers had no right to take him away from me.

Fucking great, you thought wryly as you felt your throat closing. You stumbled out of the restaurant, falling to your knees. You think you saw a red light before you lost consciousness.

//-//

Something was moving, and it took many minutes for you to realize that it was the surface you were lying on. And then you slowly opened your eyes, blinking as you progressively tried to regain awareness.

- Finally, spitfire. - A female voice commented with irony, and you were startled to see Natasha sitting beside you. You tried to sit up in bed, feeling your body ache to do so.

- Damn it. - You complained of pain, and then you realized that you were on a spaceship. - Wow, how did I get here?

- By being the worst field agent. - Nat scoffed lightly, getting up from her seat to get you some water. You noticed that you were in the medical compartment of the ship. When she handed you the glass of water, you let out a satisfied grunt, drinking it all quickly.

- Let me guess, that lady really poisoned me. - You say, handing the glass back, and Nat sits down beside you on the bed, laughing lightly.

- Seriously, you went out on a simple recognition mission, and now you have shooting, escape and poisoning in your report.

You laugh before you ask.

- How did you find us anyway?

- Wanda, of course. - She tells. - I think you collapsed and she wrecked the whole place. We arrived before the Mexican government arrested you two. Also, the waitress will be questioned, but I don't think she knows much.

- Wait, what do you mean by wrecked the whole place?

Nat laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

- You know how Wanda's magic gets when she is nervous. And well, she was very nervous.

You nod, looking away, feeling a warmth in your cheeks and chest. And then Nat is getting up again.

- Well, I have to tell Steve that you are awake. You've had enough sleep so join us when you can. - She comments with a smile before leaving.

When you look down you notice the needle marks on your arm, where the antidote was probably placed, you sigh slightly.

You stand up, realizing that you feel almost no discomfort in your muscles. Before you can move toward the other room however, there is someone coming in.

- You're really awake. - Wanda comments seriously, stopping in the doorway.

You laugh lightly, deciding to tease her.

- Ah, yes. And I heard that you lost your shit when you saw me pass out. It's touching, really.

- And you are still a complete idiot. - She retorts as she approaches.

- Yes, and yet you still love me.

- I do.

- Wait, what?

But then Wanda advances on you, kissing you on the mouth. It takes a microsecond for you to overcome the shock, and kiss her back with your hands on her waist. You both sigh against each other's mouths, and when air is needed, Wanda pulls her face away slightly.

- Don't ever do that again. - She says breathlessly.

- I didn't choose to be poisoned, you know. - You retort with mild irony. Wanda rolls her eyes smiling as she lets her hands go up to your cheeks.

- I don't want to lose you, even if you are an annoying jerk. - She says and you laugh lightly.

- Thanks for the compliments, dear. It helps my self-esteem. - You reply with irony and Wanda laughs, stealing a few kisses from you.

- Don't be such a crybaby. - She jokes, but something in her eyes changes. - You're also brave, and funny. And sweet, and infuriating attractive.

- Wow, this is turning me on. - You mock lightly, stroking her back and making her laugh. And then you're stealing kisses between your giggles, until you rest your foreheads together. - Just for the record, even though you are a temperamental annoying little witch, I am completely in love with you.

Wanda nods smiling, kissing you again.

[andreasedae]

That bittersweet memories.

Part one.

Reader: Female reader

Pairings: Henry Cavill as John Cooper x reader

Word Count: 850+

Chapter one: Is that you?

That annoying sound of the alarm clock is awful. Whoever invented this thing should be fried in hell. I reach for my phone and when I see what time it is, I jump out of bed.

Damn, I think.

I have to be in the center in half an hour.

My mother called yesterday that she would like to have breakfast with me and most importantly she wants to told me something important.

She will definitely try to put me together with someone again.

The last time it was a guy she met at the supermarket and decided it would be a great match for me.

As if it could be someone who lives in his mother’s house in the basement with her three cats and a child from a previous relationship. Thanks mom.

I don't even know how I did it, but in fifteen minutes I'm sitting at a gas station in my old car, which carries a lot of memories and which I can't give up even after ten years.

Memories don't come that often anymore. But if they come, it still hurts.

Like now, when I'm listening to a song we danced to at our prom. He was wearing the awfully fitting suit he'd inherited from his older brother at the time, and I was wearing a dress that had a little blueberry stain on their hem. But even though we never had much, we had everything. If only there was no accident.

But knocking on the window pulls me out of my memory.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Full, please."

"Okey." I can hear a rough voice of the man, whose face i can barely see through the raindrops on window.

"Isn't true that everyone who listens to Bruno Mars in the rain in their car is getting a little depressed? I call that people a killers of optimism." He laughs as he refuels and walks forward to the windshield to wipe the water off.

"Do you want me to check your oil?"

That laughter, so terribly familiar. With my gaze facing the window and full of anticipation, I watch what face appears in a moment.

"No, thanks. I topped it up just yesterday."

Is that you? I think.

“Did you refill the oil? If you still know how to cook, you are every man's dream. One day I— ” He stops when he sees my face and walks back again.

"I once worked in a car service in Tennessee, where I was born, and I swear every other woman didn't even know the oil should be checked."

"Are you from Tennessee?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Southern boy."

"What is your name?"

“Christopher William. I have a name after two idiots that my mother thought might be my father. ” He laughs nervously, and when he's done refueling, he walks over to my window and rests his hand on the roof.

"Will you pay in cash or by card?"

His palm keeps me out of sight, but my mind still doesn't deceive me. That laughter, sense of humor. That face.

"Madam?"

"John?"

“John? Who is John? Madam, I have to go back to work. ”

I pull the card out of my wallet and hand it to him through the window, and when he strides to the cash register, i get out of the car and quickly follow him.

"You know, you remind me of someone a lot. A boy. A man. Named John Cooper. He died in a car accident when he went to Mexico for a few days. Nine years ago.”

"Seriously? I'm sorry, ma'am. I've never been at Mexico. "

"He laughed like you."

"I didn’t mean to."

"You look like him." Now he has a beard and looks like someone who can tow a car with his bare hands, but otherwise he looks like John's copy.

"I don’t know what to say."

And that long gaze we exchanged was full of those strange emotions. I wish It was him so bad. But my mind is probably playing with me. But what if not?

"Here. Your bill and card. Have a nice day." He hands it to me and I can hardly take my eyes off him. And when I did, he walked away again.

"Chris, don't you have a scar on your arm?"

"Pardon?” He turned back to me with his eyes wide open.

"The man had a scar on his arm after he fought for me. During the fight, he broke the window of this car and the shard cut his arm.” I nod my head toward the car, but the look is still on his eyes. You are so familiar.

"I don't think I need to show you anything."

“I’m not leaving until you show me.” And even though he may think I'm crazy, I can't give up the last remnant of hope that came my way.

"Okay." He signs and take a look around. He rolls up his sleeve and shows me his arm. I just smile to myself. I pull my eyebrows more to my forehead and shake my head. "On the right one." I warn him that he showed me his left arm, and with another sigh, he rolls up his sweatshirt sleeve on his other arm.

He has a tattoo on it. "Satisfied?" He asks me with his annoyed voice.

"Not at all." I said with disappointment in my voice and with tears in my eyes I turn around and walk back to my car.

[deatipline]

Emily Rozio transferred from Mexico to Columbia. She is like a ghost to many simply because her mysterious background is like an empty book. Parts of Mexico knew her as a terrifying woman for anyone who crossed her path. Emily had very effective ways to gain information. Her lack of morals and willingness to do anything is what earned successful intel. Because if you can get them to talk keep using the methods.

In Mexico, most things were accomplished just as in the rest of Central and South America. Emily liked danger and the adrenaline rushing in her veins with each interrogation. After the success in Mexico, the DEA could use help from an unexpected face. Emily went in thinking a team would be under her. Emily kept to herself in the new apartment unpacking and getting everything situated. Visiting the office stirred gossip about who the woman is. Plus they could legally not tell Javier and Steve much about their new partner given her agreement in exchange for working with the DEA. 

Steve voiced his concerns about their new partner to Connie. How secretive the DEA acts. His wife gave him some advice over possible solutions and to be friendly. Today Steve walked into the office seeing the female hunched over her desk, cigarette in mouth with papers stacked high. Steve sighed watching her until seeing Javier out of the corner of his eyes. He turned around meeting Peña halfway down the hall. 

"Peña, I don't know about the new girl. The DEA is acting too d*mn suspicious about our new partner." Murphy looked at his partner. "She didn't even introduce herself. I guess it's up to us then."

Emily had noticed the blonde at the doorway and silently listened in to their conversation.

"Well, introduce yourselves then." She comments towards both men. Her eyes land on Javier. Emily knows a lot of rumors about Peña. "Talking about your partner behind their back isn't the best team-building situation." Her voice is short with little emotions detected but irritation. Emily had short black hair, a darker complexion,and deep brown eyes. " Let's start with you, Mustache." Emily glanced at Javier with a sharp gaze.

-👑

(((OOC: I hope this was ok. Im like 💀 Unsure about everything lol)))

Javier knew that something was up as soon as he spotted Steve standing in the hallway outside their office space. Steve was staring at something, with a deep frown on his face that didn't even let up when he spotter Javier walking towards him.

The two usually commuted to work together in the mornings but when Steve had knocked on his door that morning, Javier had been in the middle of saying thank you and goodbye to last night's company so he'd called through the door for Steve to go ahead and that he would catch up later.

Now, he's wondering just what he's missed by being half an hour late.

Murphy lets him in on just that not a minute later when he strides over to Javier to walk with him the last distance back to the office space. It's about the new girl. Their new partner. Apparently, the mystery wrapped up in a riddle has finally arrived.

And apparently, Steve's suspicions about her haven't disappeared with meeting her. The idea of getting a new partner had rubbed Steve the wrong way right from the start. Especially since they had been offered next to no information at all about her.

"So let me get this straight. We're expected to partner up with a trust a person we know jackshit about?"

Javier still remembers the incredulous expression on Steve's face when they'd first found out. It's not unlike the one he wears now and the comment he makes is similar too.

They reach the doorway and stop just outside of it to quietly observe their new colleague, hunched over the desk. Javier doesn't have time to do more than take in her appearance before she looks up and speaks, clearly having heard Steve's earlier comment.

Javier meets the woman's gaze and he can't read what he sees in there.

Her voice and whole demeanor are bordering hostile and not quite what Javier expected as far as first introductions go. She has a point though. Talking behind someone's back perhaps isn't the best way to make a good first impression.

She levels Javier with her gaze again and more or less orders him to go first and introduce himself.

"Javier Peña," he tells her and politely holds out his hand as an olive branch. "Guessing you're our mystery partner. Welcome to Colombia."