#ramirez year 1

[pleasanttaleswithkaityb]

In a twist of delightfully dark irony, Lisa Ramirez, once ensnared in the doldrums of furniture sales, has triumphantly pivoted to the medical field—only to be caught in the throes of uncontrollable laughter, a condition proving fatal even as she secured a signing bonus in her new career. In Bluewater Bay, even the most earnest aspirations can lead to a hilariously untimely demise.

Y’all I was screamin’ when I saw the notification 😩😩

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Check out The Beginning of the Ramirez's Spring! Learn more about the Ramirez family here! (not updated at the moment)

[patt-is-cool]

some cars fanart :3

[sims2forever]

BLUEWATER VILLAGE

... I forgot to take photos of the day in the store...

Tessa entered private school

Tessa and Marsha Bruening are now friends

Cute family moments

[jgracie]

OFF TO THE RACES — PJO/HOO + F1 TEAMS

masterlist | rules

↳ part 1!

an u can tell i tried to make all of these dramatic cz if ur an f1 fan you'll know how MESSY that sport is LMAO

MERCEDES’ DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — NICO DI ANGELO

the di angelo name has been one that's been plastered on f1 headlines since the beginning of time, and nico is no exception! despite many people sending him hate for being in the sport through nepotism, di angelo ignores their words and simply continues to prove them wrong, coming from behind other drivers when they'd least expect it and swiftly taking their spots on the grid. with a new addition to mercedes, talk has been going around about exactly how much say di angelo has in who his teammate is...

OO2 — HAZEL LEVESQUE

quiet and elusive hazel levesque seemingly appeared out of nowhere, immediately being signed by mercedes - no questions asked. when people went digging for her career history, nothing was found. when people asked her predecessor what had happened, nothing was said. this isn't to say she's a bad driver - in fact, it's quite the opposite! levesque easily challenges all the currently reigning drivers for their spot on that podium, even her teammate and brother— whoops, didn't mean to let that slip!

ASTON MARTIN’S DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — FRANK ZHANG

to both people in the industry and fans of formula one, frank zhang seemed to be nothing more than a hopeless case - always at the very back of the grid and barely managing to score any points throughout the season. however, a certain someone at aston martin saw a bright future for him, which is what landed him a seat at the luxurious team. now, he's finally getting the reins of formula one! we believe zhang is definitely a name to keep an eye out for in the very foreseeable future

OO2 — REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO

poor miss arellano was at golden boy grace's side during the entirety of her formula one career, the two red bull drivers dominating the championship and constantly having flawless 1-2 finishes no matter the track or weather. however, something seems to have happened behind the scenes during the winter break - something which bumped her down to aston martin, with annabeth chase taking her spot on grace's side. she refuses to speak about it, but we'll get it out of her eventually!

WILLIAMS’ DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — PIPER MCLEAN

the daughter of aston martin team principal tristan mclean certainly made a bold choice for her first year in formula one. we all know that tristan adores his daughter, but if that's true, why would she choose to go to a team as unstable as williams? when our insiders asked mr mclean, a dark look washed over his face and he walked away, not uttering a single word. uh oh, it seems like daddy's dearest princess has gone rogue!

OO2 — WILLIAM "WILL" SOLACE

to replace percy jackson, williams decided to sign their namesake - will solace. after winning the formula two championship three years ago, will went to indycar as there were no seats left for him at formula one. however, we all know how magnetic the fantasy of being called an f1 champion is to racers, so it's no surprise he came running back! he and his teammate, mclean, seem to be making a pretty good team, but can they single-handedly bring williams a constructor's championship win?

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl

A/N I start my second year of college tomorrow and i wanted to write something for the movie series that got me through moving out on my own for the first time!!

Fandom: (original) Scream

Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Final Girl Masterlist  (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

----

Like usual, the bell that signifies the end of homeroom rings while I’m in the middle of a sentence. Mrs. Ramirez may be strict about tardies, but she always wraps up her announcements early, which means most of homeroom is filled by basic high school chatter. 

On the first day, that made me incredibly nervous. I didn’t think I’d have to start over at a new school almost two months into my junior year of high school, but now that I’ve been in Woodsboro nearly a month, the space in between instructions doesn’t bother me. The people here have been a lot more welcoming than I thought they’d be. And one of those surprisingly welcoming people is Casey, who’s patiently standing by her desk as I pick up my backpack. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” The question surprises me a little more than it should. I’ve been invited to a lot of things since I first moved here, and even when nothing’s going on I normally run into one or two of my friends on the weekends. Usually Stu and or Billy. 

I swing my backpack over my shoulder, “Uh--besides studying for that unit test in math, nothing much.” 

She smiles, “Okay, good.” Casey walks out of the door and into the hall with me. “I was going to rent a movie to watch with my boyfriend, but I’m thinking of blowing him off. You want to have a sleepover at my house? We can watch something scary and freak ourselves out and get no sleep.” 

I grin. “Sure, sounds fun. I’ll bring the Jiffy Pop.” 

“Great, I’ll write my address out for you tomorrow.” She turns her head slightly, taking note of the students crowding the hall, “I’ve gotta get to class. See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

A second after I’ve waved her off, a voice comes from right behind me, “New friend?” 

The words are so unexpected and strangely harsh in their lowness that I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn, posture straightening instinctively as I do so. Oh. Okay--not a threat at all. “Oh, it’s just you,” I exhale, “You scared me, Stu.” 

I offer him a partial smile in greeting, which is a gesture he normally returns with a genuine grin. Today, though, he just kind of looks at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes look so dark, especially not while he’s looking at me. “Sorry.” He watches me blink at him. “I was just waiting to walk you to your first period like a good friend, but you seemed busy.” 

Oh, is that what his weird attitude’s about? “You mean Casey?” He doesn’t say anything. “She’s nice.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself or maybe even apologize, but I do. I don’t want him looking at me like that anymore. I want Stu to throw his arm around my shoulders with no warning after making an inappropriate joke that I pretend to get mad over. “We talk in homeroom, she’s a friend.” He doesn’t ease. “Are you jealous?” The joke doesn’t land. “Ease up, you know you’re my favorite.” 

At that, Stu’s oddly serious expression shifts into something softer, maybe even a little amused. “Your favorite?” 

He finally smiles, making the inky undertones of his expression disappear. “Mhm,” I continue, “My favorite out of everyone, but don’t tell Tatum or Sid because I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” 

“Fine,” Stu relents, casually throwing an arm around my shoulders, “I’ll just tell Billy.” 

I gape at him for a long second. After almost two weeks of eating lunch with their friend group every day, Billy offered me his drink after someone bumped into me and spilled mine. I had been sitting next to Stu, who had made some joke earlier that involved grabbing my hand and he had yet to let go. I released him to cross the table and thank Billy. Stu frowned and pretended to be seriously hurt until Tatum told him to leave me alone before he scared her new friend off. Since then, the two have a running joke (well, it’s Stu’s joke that Billy kind of just sort of allows) that revolves around me picking a favorite. 

“You’re in a drama starting mood today.” 

Stu hums once absentmindedly, rubbing his hand up and down my arm in a comfortable display of affection. ”What can I say? I want you all to myself.” 

Heat rises to my face for no good reason. Stu’s touchy, I learned that about him pretty quickly. “Haha,” I mumble dryly, hoping humor manages to come across in my voice. “We should get to class before you erupt into a jealous rage.” 

----

Temporarily discarding the cardboard lid of the Jiffy Pop container, I let my gaze linger on the few polaroids Casey took a little earlier in the night. Just a thing I’m trying out, she had explained before snapping a few awkward shots of me smiling before joining me behind the camera. The one where she’s cross eyed and I’m sticking my tongue out is kind of cute, but most of the ones of me are a little rough. 

Casey announces her return to the kitchen with, “Okay, I wasn’t sure what kind of movies you liked so I brought some variety.” She sets her stack of tapes on the counter next to me. “I was thinking Nightmare on Elm Street or Pet Sementary.” 

Leaning down, I turn on the stovetop before placing the pan on a burner. “Mmm, both are good but I’m more of a Nightmare on Elm Street kinda person. Can’t resist a story with a final girl in it.”  

“Alright,” she says just as the first kernel pops, “I’ll keep that in mind for future movie nights.” 

I turn my attention back to the stove in hopes of concealing a smile. Casey caught my attention that first day in homeroom because she’s just so effortlessly cool in a way that normally I find off putting. All morning, I tortured myself over everything that could go wrong. “Yeah, just--” 

A loud pop from the Jiffy Pop pan nearly makes me jump. Casey’s lips turn upwards like she’s going to make a joke about how easily startled I am, but a ringing sound spares me. “Hold on a second.” Casey pushes herself away from the counter she was leaning against. “Landline.” 

She casually picks up the receiver and I give the stove my full attention in an attempt to offer her some sort of privacy. Her words are low and easy to miss as butter begins to sizzle and more kernels start to explode. My gaze shifts and her slightly bothered expression makes me wonder if she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. I’ve never met him, but the few stories she told me earlier make me think I’m not going to like him. 

Casey hangs up with a sigh. “Wrong number.” She straightens, stepping away from the counter before grabbing a tape from her pile. “I’m going to go work on the movie, my mom was just complaining about the VCR. Careful with the popcorn, our stove’s a little iffy.” 

“Please,” I hum, “I know Jiffy Pop, I feel Jiffy Pop, I basically am Jiffy Pop. I’ve never burnt a single kernel.” 

She raises an eyebrow at my only slightly exaggerated claim before turning to leave the room. “You better hope you’re not all talk or you’re never living this down. 

I move the Jiffy Pop around the burner with a level of skill that’s worthy of someone of my expertise. About a minute later, Casey’s home landline starts ringing again. “Casey!”

“On it!”  

The ringing ends with the sound of a quick click. She must be on the living room extension. Her voice keeps getting louder, but I’m not hearing enough to understand who she’s talking to. She does sound like she’s getting a little annoyed, which makes me really think she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. Preconceived notions about people kind of suck, but Steve sounds like a total asshole. 

Casey returns to the kitchen with a playful, albeit softly irritated eye roll. “How do you feel about prank phone calls?” 

My eyes narrow in mock consideration. “Like making them?” 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’ sound. “Dealing with them.” 

She waves the phone in front of me like it’s some kind of offer. “That’s kinda an ominous question,” I decide, arm extending to take the phone from her, “I’m in.” Without thinking twice, I raise the phone to my ear. Static hums from the other end of the line. “Hi.” The only response to my greeting is the consistent crack of static. “Are random phone calls your big Saturday night plans?” 

The static is starting to feel a lot eerier than it did before. That, paired with the continual popping of kernels is starting to unsettle me. Snap out of it, it’s just a prank call. I begin to move around the pan again. I can’t afford to burn anything after all that big talk about my Jiffy Pop skills. 

Just as I’m settling the pan at a new angle, the sound of shifting fabric interrupts the steady stream of white noise. “Did your friend scare so easily?” 

I blink. Whoever’s on the other line is probably a total weirdo, but his voice is kinda attractive. “It’s not personal, she’s just busy messing with the VCR.” 

An unsettlingly deep laugh comes from the other line of the phone. Okay--his attractive voice is no longer enough of a redeeming quality for me to not see him as a total creep or perv. Actually, he’s probably both. “What’s your name?” 

The confident authoritativeness of the question rubs me the wrong way. I release the handle of the pan in favor of instinctually placing a hand on my hip. “I don’t share things with strangers.” 

A beat of silence is followed by the rustling of fabric. “But I already know something about you.” 

“Mhm,” I muse dryly, beginning to work on the popcorn again, “And what is it that you know?” 

“Your friend is setting up the VCR, you’re going to watch a movie, aren’t you?” 

I roll my eyes, understanding why Casey was so quick to leave them without hanging up. Weird people like this are normally more persistent when they’re ignored. “Wow, your detective skills have truly shocked and amazed me, Nancy Drew. Congratulations, now if that’s all--”

I’m not sure if its my sarcasm or my attempt at stern dismissal that amuses them, but a deep chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “What movie are you going to watch?” 

“Why? Are you looking for a recommendation?” My reply comes out too fast and too bitter and I regret it instantly. People like this can’t know that they’re getting to you. “Nightmare on Elm Street.” 

Static turns into the sound of more ruffling. “That’s scary.” 

“I think I can handle it,” I breathe. 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

I nod, “Yep, I even have a golden rule for them.” 

“Golden rule?” 

Rolling my eyes, I stare at the pan. The popping is starting to slow down. Soon enough, I’ll have an excuse to hang up and get back to my sleepover. “Yeah, it’s silly, but I think all the great scary movies have a final girl.” 

Another dark laugh. “I agree.” 

“Your approval fuels me,” I mumble. 

The stranger is quick to ask, “Is Nightmare on Elm Street your favorite scary movie?” 

I shake my head, turning the pan so that it’s more on its side than before. “It’s good, but it’s not my all time favorite.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

I sigh, a part of me wishing that Casey would come back. “I already told you that I’m not telling you anything.” 

“So I shouldn’t ask for your name again?” 

“You can ask, but you’re not getting an answer.” Rolling my eyes, I move my hand away from the pan and towards the switch that controls the stove. “Why do you want know so bad, anyway?” 

“It’s rude to not ask a pretty girl for her name.”

Wow--what a line. “That line doesn’t work in person and works even less over the phone when I know you can’t see me.” 

Silence stretches between us so long I start to think that he might have gotten up or something. “What makes you so sure I can’t see you?”

 It’s the kind of vague threat that normally I’d laugh off. But something about the stranger’s assured tone cuts right through all of my security. Irrational dread pulses in my stomach. “Yeah, I’m not interested in being in a scary movie. Bye.” 

“Wait--” There’s the slightest hint of panic in their voice. 

“I am so sick of creepy men trying to ruin everything just because they can.” 

“Don’t even think ab--!” = 

“Porn exists for a reason, perv!” And with a single beep, the man’s voice disappears. 

Ugh, men. Even though his threat was the kind of meaningless joke that creepy, horny men tell because they get off on scaring girls, I can’t stop feeling a lot less alone in Casey’s kitchen. 

I let myself shudder as I pace away from the kitchen and towards Casey’s living room.

“Y/n?” Casey’s voice is completely casual as she questions me. That means that weird phone guy didn’t scare her. 

Be more normal. “Hey--I just..” 

She turns her head, blonde bob falling to the side as I trail off. “Did something scare you?” 

There are a lot of things I could say, but nothing feels good enough. Denial crawls up my throat and just sits there as my thoughts beg me to tell her. To maybe even warn her. Warn her of what, though? That some weird guy has her phone number and the junior girl she took a chance on is this easily freaked? 

Before I can make up my mind, the living room phone rings. Dread roots itself in my stomach and tangles itself in my throat. Casey sits up a bit more on her couch as she reaches for the phone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Casey raises an eyebrow as she picks up the receiver. “Forget that guy, he’s probably already forgotten us and is harassing someone else. She then raises the phone to her ear and listens for a long second, “Is this some kind of joke, because it’s not funny.”

I stare at her with wide eyes as she stands, quickly pacing away from the couch and towards the center of the living room, as far from any window as possible. The noise from the phone is muffled, but something about the tone feels a lot more aggressive than it was earlier. Maybe aggressively calling him a pervert and hanging up on him wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. 

Casey’s face is void of any color as she slowly pulls the phone away from her ear. “He wants to talk to you.” 

My eyes widen as I play back the last words I said to him. An instinctual no crawls up my throat. With shaky hands, I take the phone. “Hi,” I curse myself for sounding so nervous, “Again. Hi again.” A nervous giggle crawls up my throat and I have to my tongue to keep it down. “Listen, you win. You scared us. Now I’m going to hang up and you’re gonna let me.” 

“Really?” The laugh, or maybe even growl, that follows comes out in the form of low grumble that turns my blood into slush. “And if I don’t?” 

Great. Of course phone freak is trying to verify my threat. I don’t exactly have an arsenal of intimidation tactics. “My mom’s dating a cop, and I’ll get him to arrest your ass.”

It’s not the most honest thing I’ve said to him, but it’s not a lie either. My mom’s boyfriend being hired as Woodsboro’s police chief is one of the main reasons we moved, but I’m not sure he’d particularly care about someone scaring me over the phone. I’ve known Wells for a few months now and the only thing I’ve seen him express interest in is my mom and beer. And occasionally, he shows a little too much interest in the length of my skirt. 

Silence. Okay--maybe he took that seriously. My finger moves towards the button that can end this call, but before I can convince myself that nothing bad will happen if I press it, the voice returns with a vengeful chuckle. “What’s Chief Wells Hoffman going to do for you?” 

I feel each drop of blood drain from me. My hands shake as my grip on the phone tightens. With a wavering voice I ask, “How did--how--” 

In an act of a sadistic sort of mercy, the man cuts me off, “Oh, doll face,” he breathes the nickname like he’s taking pity on me. Like I’m a child that needs to be comforted. “I’m going to play nice with you.” He’s waits a beat, “But your good friend Casey Becker’s not going to be so lucky.” 

At the threat of someone that’s standing right next to me, something in me becomes strangled. “How do you know her name?” I shake my head, forcing down the wave of dread trying to force me into panic. “Leave her alone, or-or you’re gonna regret it.” 

“You look too sweet in those cherry pajamas to be making threats.” 

My lips part but I can’t bring myself to ask the question because I already feel the answer in my chest. “How do you know what I’m wearing?” 

“Why don’t you look behind you?”

I pull the phone away from my ear slowly, my eyes snapping upwards in search of Casey’s. But she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at something that’s just over my shoulder, her hand covering her mouth in horror. I pull the phone away from my ear. 

My body does not feel like my own as I force myself to turn towards Casey’s sliding glass door. Despite the glare of the living room light against the reflection of glass, it only takes my eyes a second to adjust enough to see that Casey’s backyard is not empty. 

A figure that’s clothed in all black except for their contrasting, stark white mask that depicts a face frozen in a permanent, cartoonish scream is standing there. Now that he has my attention, he raises his hand, miming the action of answering a phone.

I take a deep breath in an attempt to settle myself, but all it does is make it harder to not scream or cry or laugh hysterically. I raise the phone to my ear again. “Hello, Y/n.” 

“Hi,” I squeak back before pressing the phone into the side of my thigh in a pathetic attempt to muffle my words. “Casey,” I whisper, raising my hand in greeting in an attempt to appease the figure on the other side of the glass, “R--” 

Before the single syllable can slip past my lips, the glass bursts. I turn in on myself, lifting an arm in a feeble attempt to protect myself from the explosion of glass shards. It only takes me a moment to look up in horror at the masked man that’s now in the house. If throwing his entire weight against gas sliding glass door with enough force to shatter it hurt him, he shows no sign of his pain as he begins to run. 

An instinctual scream escapes me as I blindly hurl the phone in the man’s general direction. I grasp Casey’s hand pulling her forward with all my strength as I start running. I urge her forward, ignoring the pain in my forearm and feet from the glass. We’re about to make it to the front door when I feel a firm grasp on my arm. 

I yelp, thrashing blindly as I’m yanked away from Casey. My body twists, but the leather clad hand holding me is unrelenting. There’s a strange strain in the way they pull me back, but I don’t care about his promise to play nice. In a move that likely surprises both of us, I kick behind me with all of my force. Their hold loosens for a fraction of a second, but they regain control before I can even take a full step forward. The man pulls on me harder than before, throwing me back and into the Becker’s entryway table. A scream that I only vaguely register as not mine is so terrible and high pitched my lip quivers at the sound of it. The vase on the table gets knocked over and shatters as I fall. 

My head slams into the wall with enough force to leave me disorientated for a second. Our attacker must not be completely aware of his own strength because for a brief moment, they just look at me as my body lays against shards of glass. With a shaky breath, I push myself to stand even though the movement forces large pieces of glass to cut into my palm. The man recovers before I’m fully up. He grabs me by my shoulder and forces me down on the other side of the hall. I push against him with the support of all the adrenaline in my body as he moves to pin my wrists above my head. The man reaches for something hidden among layers of black. All I can hope for is that my death might have given Casey a chance to escape. 

Instead of pulling out a gun or a blade, he reveals a small, white towel. The confusion makes my stomach twist in a different way as I fight against him even more now. He places the rag over my nose and mouth, forcing me to breath through it. Is this a form of suffocation? I blink twice, my limbs growing impossibly heavy the more I try to breathe. Eventually, that’s all there is. Just the weight of my body and the polluted air in my lungs until even that is replaced by darkness. 

----

NARRATOR’S POV

The one thing about meticulously planning is that it takes so little for plans to go off the rail. One can prepare for every possible outcome and life can still throw twists at them because the rest of the world can never seem to listen to the fucking plan. 

That’s how Billy felt when he saw you standing in Casey Becker’s kitchen, casually prepping Jiffy Pop like you’ve been best friends with her your entire life. Not only did a dangerous sort of aggravation pulse through him at the realization that his perfect plan needed to be adjusted, he also found himself dealing with the kind of anger that’s a result of betrayal. All the time Stu and him spend with you and you couldn’t tell them that you were planning on spending the night at Casey Becker’s? 

When you mumbled some vague excuse about why you couldn’t hang out with Tatum and Sidney Saturday evening during yesterday’s lunch period, Billy felt skeptical. He thought that that’d be something to figure out later. And then he saw you there, grinning and having the time of your life without a single thought about them.

For the briefest moment, Billy wondered if this was some kind of sign. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him to screw it, to let you get what you deserve for keeping secrets. But then he realized that if anything, this signified that he was right about you. After all, what were the odds that you’d be in the perfect place to make your debut as the one thing their movie was missing--a final girl? It only took a few minutes of watching you for Billy to be glad that he thought to bring some chloroform in case anything got complicated. 

The new and improved plan went off without a hitch. Steve was an easy kill and Casey’s death was even more satisfying than he thought possible. Nothing bad happened, so why the hell is Stu taking so long? 

Approaching the house’s entryway, Billy sighs when he sees that Stu isn’t wearing his mask. “What is taking so--” He cuts himself off as something he doesn’t quite get settles in his chest. There’s a hole about the size of his fist in the wall, blue and white ceramic fragments scattered around a small, knocked over table, and most unsettling of all, your unconscious, still bleeding form lying parallel to it all.

“I didn’t mean to,” Stu says, voice uncharacteristically shaky, “I--I--fuck, I didn’t mean to. I was just gonna put her to sleep, but she kept trying to get away--and the chase was exciting,” he scoffs the last word pathetically. “I didn’t think she’d fight back.” 

Billy lets out a breath, crouching down to get a better look at your face. There’s a shallow gash on your forehead that’s still dripping blood into a puddle that your cheek is resting in. If it wasn’t for that, Billy might have been able to imagine that you were sleeping. “What the fuck did you do?” 

When Billy’s hard gaze meets Stu’s, Stu blurts out the only thing he can think to say, “She’s still breathing! She’s not--she’s not dead.” He stares at your crumpled form, desperately studying the slow but even rise and fall of your chest. “I didn’t mean to.” 

Billy’s fingers brush against the side of your face. “I know.” Stu doesn’t ask him to specify which part of his defense he’s referencing. “She’ll be okay, someone will find this, they’ll take her to the hospital. She’s not that hurt.” 

“She fell into the glass,” Stu admits, “And--and her head hit the wall so hard. What if she has a concussion? Shit, aren’t you supposed to stay awake if you have a concussion?” He lets out an uneasy sigh that doesn’t seem to fit him. It’s the kind of breathy, uneasy sound that’s the precursor for a tantrum a child throws after realizing that they just broke their favorite toy. “What if she has some kinda brain damage? She has--she has the SAT next week and she’s been studying for it since before she moved here.” After a moment, Stu snorts, but the sound comes out more desperate than humorous. “She’s gonna be so mad.” 

The corner of Billy’s lips turn upwards. “For like a week, and then she’ll be trying to spin this into some kind of college essay.” 

Another uneven laugh escapes Stu. “You’re right.” He then looks down, something weirdly close to what some might call guilt cramming itself into his head with too much force. It’s all too much. All he wants is for you to open your eyes and smile at him. “Fuck, we need to call an ambulance.” 

“You know we can’t.” 

“She could be bleeding in her skull. Isn’t that a thing?”

Billy bites his tongue. So many versions of a reply are circling in his mind and not a single one of them feels right. He should tell his best friend, his partner in everything, that that’s just something he’s going to have to life with. Billy should tell Stu that what happens to you is on him. Instead, Billy just looks at you, at the cuts in your soft skin. Some dominant part of him is thrilled at your vulnerable state. All bloody and broken and still somehow so soft and warm. He could have you now, he thinks, and he wouldn’t have to pretend the way he does when you’re awake. But something else in him, maybe the part of him that knows the way he’s supposed to act, knows that to leave you like this, to waste any more time, could lead to something permanent.  

The updated plan is already in motion. After this, there’s no way you won’t need them. He likes the thought of you needing him more than anything else, and he knows that it’d be so easy to push you into a state of dependency. You’re going to be so scared that any reservations you feel towards them because they’re dating your friends will disappear. And how could Sidney and Tatum have a problem with Stu and him being supportive after everything you’ve been through? 

Besides, a part of him wants to see how your role plays out. After all, you said it yourself. All the great scary movies have a final girl. 

He cups your face, studying each of your features as if to commit them to memory. “We’ll call 911 from the house phone and not say anything. They’ll have to send someone over, but we need to get out of here quick.”

[rapeculturerealities]

Woman Who Was Charged With Murder After Abortion Sues Texas Prosecutor - The New York Times

A woman in Texas who was falsely charged with murder over a self-induced abortion in 2022 has filed a lawsuit against the local prosecutor’s office and its leaders, seeking more than $1 million in damages.

Lizelle Gonzalez was arrested in April 2022 in Starr County, near the southeastern border with Mexico, and charged with murder after using the drug misoprostol to self-induce an abortion, 19 weeks into her pregnancy. She spent two nights in jail before the charge was dropped.

Self-induced abortions can refer to those performed outside of professional medical care, including the use of abortion pills. Under Texas law at the time, abortions after six weeks were illegal, but pregnant women are exempt from criminal prosecution. (Health care professionals who provide abortion procedures and medication, and others who help someone get an abortion, can still be liable.)

Ms. Gonzalez, who was known as Lizelle Herrera and 26 at the time of her arrest, filed a complaint on Thursday against Starr County, along with its district attorney, Gocha Ramirez, and assistant district attorney, Alexandria Lynn Barrera. She argues that the arrest and charge resulted in her suffering reputational harm and distress, and seeks to “vindicate her rights but also to hold accountable the government officials who violated them,” according to her lawsuit.

Ms. Gonzalez and her lawyers were not immediately available for comment on Saturday.

Mr. Ramirez and Ms. Barrera also did not immediately respond to requests for comment on the lawsuit. A month ago, the state bar of Texas found that Mr. Ramirez had unlawfully prosecuted Ms. Gonzalez without probable cause and fined him $1,250. His law license will also be held in probated suspension for a year, which means he must comply with specific requirements but can practice law during that time. That period starts April 1.

According to the complaint, Ms. Gonzalez took the abortion medication in January 2022 and went to the hospital for an examination. Doctors found a positive heartbeat for the baby and no contractions, so she was discharged the next day. But later that day, she returned to the hospital with complaints of vaginal bleeding, and doctors performed a C-section to deliver a stillborn child.

The Food and Drug Administration has approved the use of misoprostol and mifepristone, another commonly used abortion pill, through 10 weeks of pregnancy, under the supervision of a health care provider. But the World Health Organization endorses self-induced abortions in pregnancies of up to 12 weeks without medical supervision.

Ms. Gonzalez says in the lawsuit that the hospital employees reported her self-induced abortion to the district attorney’s office, in violation of federal privacy laws, though her lawsuit does not name them or the hospital as defendants.

The lawsuit says that neither the Starr County Sheriff’s Office nor the Rio Grande City Police Department performed an investigation with sufficient facts or circumstances surrounding the murder charge against her, and only relied on reports from the hospital. Ms. Gonzalez also accuses them of misleading the grand jury with false information to secure an indictment against her.

“The fallout from defendants’ illegal and unconstitutional actions has forever changed” Ms. Gonzalez’s life, the complaint says. She “was subjected to the humiliation of a highly publicized indictment and arrest, which has permanently affected her standing in the community.”

When the charge against Ms. Gonzalez was dropped, Mr. Ramirez said that it was “clear” that she “cannot and should not be prosecuted for the allegation against her,” and acknowledged that “the events leading up to this indictment have taken a toll” on Ms. Gonzalez and her family. At the time, the anti-abortion group Texas Right to Life supported Mr. Ramirez’s decision to drop the charges, saying Texas’ law “clearly prohibit criminal charges for pregnant women.”

Ms. Gonzalez’s indictment occurred several months before the overturning of Roe v. Wade, and before Texas’ near-total ban on abortions went into effect. Even with the stricter ban, those who get an abortion cannot be criminally prosecuted.

Melissa Murray, a law professor at New York University, said Ms. Gonzalez’s lawsuit could serve to raise consciousness in Texas and beyond, to “understand that we are moving very quickly into a kind of dystopian, post-Dobbs landscape.”

“I think she could be very successful here,” Ms. Murray said of Ms. Gonzalez. “And if she isn’t, even if it doesn’t make it to trial, she could make him pay to settle this,” referring to Mr. Ramirez.

The lawsuit could act as a deterrent to other officials around the state, Ms. Murray said. But it could also “have the effect of spurring the anti-abortion movement to lobby the Legislature to actually make pregnant people subject to criminal or civil liability.”

Roni Caryn Rabin, Giulia Heyward and Sophie Kasakove contributed reporting.

[shoshiwrites]

Band of Brothers Ages: IRL vs. Actors

Did you know that according to a 1947 study, almost half the men who served in WWII were still under age 26 by the end of the war?

What this is : A (very long) post comparing the ages of the actors in Band of Brothers vs. the IRL figures they are portraying.

Background: Did I need to do this? No. Did anyone ask for this? Also no. Did I do it anyway? Yes.

Disclaimers: This is SUPER approximate for the most part. I based IRL ages off of D-Day unless otherwise noted, and actor ages off of January 1, 2000, the year filming took place (the latter is where the most variation will be because I didn't try to figure out what month filming started). I also didn't fact-check birthdays beyond googling. Most are sourced from the Band of Brothers and Military Wikis on fandom.com, Wikipedia, and IMDb.

I broke them up into rough categories, which are, again, approximate. I know I often forget how young the real life people were here, and this was a good reminder of that. I also found it interesting to see which actors were actually younger than their roles!

Check it all out under the cut ⬇️

~10+ years older

Dale Dye (55) as Col. Robert F. Sink (39) (~16 years)

Michael Cudlitz (35) as Denver "Bull" Randleman (23) (~12)

Marc Warren (32) as Albert Blithe (20) (~12)

Rocky Marshall (33) as Earl J. McClung (21) (~12)

Frank John Hughes (32) as William J. Guarnere (21) (~11)

Neal McDonough (33) as Lynn D. (Buck) Compton (22) (~11)

Dexter Fletcher (33) as John W. Martin (22) (~11)

~5+ years older

Simon Schatzberger (32) as Joseph A. Lesniewski (23) (~9)

Richard Speight Jr. (30) Warren H. (Skip) Muck (22) (~8)

Jason O'Mara (30) as Thomas Meehan (22) (~8)

Ron Livingston (32) as Lewis Nixon (25) (~7)

Donnie Wahlberg (30) as C. Carwood Lipton (24) (~6)

Matthew Settle (30) as Ronald C. Speirs (24) (~6)

Nolan Hemmings (28) as Charles E. "Chuck" Grant (22) (~6)

Douglas Spain (25) as Antonio C. Garcia (19) (~6)

George Calil (26) as James H. "Mo" Alley Jr. (21) (~5)

Rick Gomez (27) as George Luz (22) (~5 year)

Scott Grimes (28) as Donald G. Malarkey (23) (~5)

Stephen Graham (26) as Myron "Mike" Ranney (21) (~5)

~less than 5 years older

Shane Taylor (25) as Eugene G. Roe (21) (~4)

Tim Matthews (23) as Alex M. Penkala Jr. (19) (~4)

Matthew Leitch (24) as Floyd M. "Tab" Talbert (20) (~4)

Peter O'Meara (30) as Norman S. Dike Jr. (26) (~4)

Tom Hardy (22) as John A. Janovec (18) (~4)

Rick Warden (28) as Harry F. Welsh (25) (~3)

Kirk Acevedo (28) as Joseph D. Toye (25) (~3)

Eion Bailey (25) as David Kenyon Webster (22) (~3)

Craig Heaney (26) as Roy W. Cobb (29) (~3)

Damian Lewis (28) as Richard D. Winters (26) (~2)

Robin Laing as Edward J. "Babe" Heffron (~2, 21/23)

Ben Caplan (26) as Walter S. "Smokey" Gordon Jr. (24) (~2)

David Schwimmer (32) as Herbert M. Sobel (33) (~1 year)

Michael Fassbender (22) as Burton P. "Pat" Christenson (21) (~1)

Colin Hanks (22) as Lt. Henry Jones (21) (~1) (age around Bastogne)

Bart Ruspoli (23) as Edward J. Tipper (22) (~1)

~Same age

Peter Youngblood Hills as Darrell C. "Shifty" Powers (21)

Mark Huberman as Lester "Les" Hashey (19)

Younger

Lucie Jeanne (23) as Renée Lemaire (30) (age around Bastogne) (~7)

Ross McCall (23) as Joseph D. Liebgott (29) (~6)

Simon Pegg (29) as William S. Evans (~33) (~4)

Philip Barantini (19) as Wayne A. "Skinny" Sisk (22) (~3)

James Madio (24) as Frank J. Perconte (27) (~3)

Stephen McCole (25) as Frederick "Moose" Heyliger (27) (~2)

Matt Hickey (~16) as Patrick S. O'Keefe (18) (~2)

Incomplete/not found

Phil McKee as Maj. Robert L. Strayer (34)

Rene L. Moreno as Joseph Ramirez (30)

Doug Allen as Alton M. More (24)

David Nicolle as Lt. Thomas A. Peacock (24)

Rebecca Okot as Anna (Augusta Chiwy) (24) (age around Bastogne)

Alex Sabga-Brady as Francis J. Mellet (23)

Mark Lawrence as William H. Dukeman Jr. (22)

Nicholas Aaron as Robert E. (Popeye) Wynn (22)

Peter McCabe as Donald B. Hoobler (21)

Marcos D'Cruze as Joseph P. Domingus (not found)

[thedevilslunch]

Ramirez failed after two tries to pass the 9th grade. He left Jefferson High at age 17.

'I knew him in '76 when he was here,' said Cesar Mendoza, longtime assistant principal. 'He was a quiet guy, never got involved in violence, vandalism ... I had to call him in as a truant, cutting classes, being absent from school.

'I remember talking to him and asking him, 'You're a tall kid, why don't you join the basketball team, become famous, do something worthwhile?' He said, no, he didn't like games. He was tall for his age (6-foot-1). We don't have many 6-footers. I even told him he could be an end on the football team and catch passes and get his name in the paper.'

Ramirez' grades hit rock bottom in high school. His transcript, says Charles Hart, spokesman for El Paso public schools, 'really tells the story,' plummeting the last two years of his education.

source : Richard Ramirez' 'Highway to Hell' - UPI Archives

[whipplefilter]

Do you know what happens to Jackson Storm after the big race in the third movie? He kind of just disappears, and we never see what happens to him.

I don't think anything happens to him! He's just not, ultimately, what is important to Cruz or Lightning in that moment; the scene does not include him because their thoughts don't. Cars 3 is ostensibly driven by rivalry with Storm, except it's not. Even though Lightning often narrates his goals through he idea of rivals, he also regularly FORGETS that these cars are his rivals or that they exist at all (there are scenes in both Cars 1 and Cars 3 where Lightning needs to be reminded of Chick or Storm lol). Perhaps they're usual tools ("for motivation!" as Cruz would say) but it's never really about them. Anyone on the Piston Cup circuit will tell you that when you're on the track, you're racing yourself. (You may also be racing time, grief, change, the past--)

This is how race broadcasts work, too. A race might have any number of storylines playing out in the actual field, but the broadcast needs to pick a few to follow. It's a live event, and over the course of the run they likely choose wrong a few times; but when the checkered flies all the storylines drill down, essentially, to one: Who won?

The 96 team's mid-race switch, Cruz's rookie venture, her win, are all storylines that blow Storm's losing out of the water. Even Storm putting her in the wall doesn't really matter, because that's racing, that's all happened before. Cruz using the wall to flip over Storm for the win? Yeah, they'll be talking about that one for years.

I think Storm was there; that cameras just weren't for him that day. It's likely some reporters still approached him for comment, maybe for radio or print press rather than the TV broadcast, but he may have chosen not to comment. Racers do that sometimes. He probably didn't stick around. And while he probably hated all of this, seethed about it, made it very personal, the Piston Cup's storyline isn't ultimately personal to him, and it's probably a grace that everything that happened was so monumental in its own right the Piston Cup didn't need to nurture the "rivalry"storyline.

Honestly, the fact that the big story of the weekend wasn't at all about him probably spared Storm a lot of grief, because then he doesn't need to live the "rivalry" storyline for the next couple weeks, or however long it takes for the storyline of the season to shift. He's not "the guy Cruz beat" because who took second that day doesn't matter at all. And while a young racer's career is built on being able to keep your name in the headlines and your livery on screen, this time, it's good that it's not. That if you're not first you're last.

You show up to the track the next week, and it's another weekend, another race. The Florida 500, as it concerns anyone or anything that isn't Cruz Ramirez, is quickly becoming yesterday's news.

There's a whole season to race, and Storm is going to win a lot of it.

[pleasanttaleswithkaityb]

Lisa, embracing her newfound zeal for life, decides a bubble bath might wash away the last remnants of Grim's ghastly visit—because nothing says 'cheating death' quite like a good soak. Yet, in a twist that would make even fate chuckle, her laughter bubbles over once more, and who should waltz in but Grim even the Reaper can't resist an encore when the performance is this enthralling.

Ugh- I hope he's able to save her again! Previous || Next

Check out The Beginning of the Ramirez's Spring! Learn more about the Ramirez family here! (not updated at the moment)

[probably-impossible]

Meetings

"Tuco had wives all over, it followed that he had kids all over, too. But he'd never met one before."

Day 1 entry for the @dollarstrilogyevent

Tuco woke up at sunrise in a muddy ditch behind the saloon. He groaned and held his head for a while before getting up. He couldn't remember if someone had stolen his wallet or if he'd simply lost it playing poker. Oh well. Luckily one of the places he'd buried his gold was just outside of town. 

He stood up and slapped as much of the mud off himself as he could. Then he made his way back to the main street and started trying to find where he'd hitched his horse.

As he passed by a hotel, he heard a high voice call out. “Hey! Wait!” It was a kid, maybe about ten years old, jogging towards him. The urchin's gender was impossible to determine underneath all of the grime, but Tuco decided to assume it was a boy because it had short hair and was wearing trousers. 

“Get lost,” Tuco said, giving the kid a glare. He tugged on the leather strap holding his pistol to emphasize the point. 

The kid didn't seem fazed. He switched to speaking in Spanish. “You're Tuco Ramirez, aren't you? You look just like the posters.”

Tuco froze for a moment, on reflex. “...And what is it to you if I am?” He groaned and held a hand to his forehead. “You're real lucky I'm so hungover, kid. I'm just gonna let you forget all about those posters, you understand? Now beat it, before I change my mind.”

“No, wait, that's not—” The kid held up his hands. “I'm not going to tell anybody about you, I promise! I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

The kid hesitated. “Well… because you're my father.”

…

…

Tuco was surprised. He shouldn't have been. He had wives all over, it followed that he had kids all over, too. But he'd never met one before. He'd never stayed around longer than nine months. His mouth felt suddenly dry. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Who's your mother?”

“Mariana Castillo.” After a short pause the kid added, “from Abilene.”

“Oh, yes, now I remember,” Tuco lied. “Very pretty lady.” He looked the kid up and down. Evidently she hadn't been pretty enough to save the poor tiny bastard from inheriting his features. Curly dark hair, big ears, big nose. The kid also had big brown eyes and a small gap between his front teeth. Tuco rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long breath. “Shit. Alright, well, what do you want? Money? Divorce papers for your mama?”

The kid blinked up at him. “I … I guess I sort of thought I could … stay with you.” 

Tuco winced. “Ah. No. Look, this is going to sound harsh, but there’s a reason I left in the first place. It’s not personal, it’s just that I can't let myself be tied down anywhere or to anybody, you understand? And besides, you don’t want to get mixed up with an outlaw like me. I'm a bad man, and I do bad things. It’s no life for a kid. So just go on back to your mother, okay?”

The kid gripped the hem of his dirty shirt and stared at the ground. He mumbled. “- - - - -.”

“What?”

“Mama’s dead,” the kid said, with only a small quiver in his voice. “Three months ago. She got sick.”

“Oh.” 

Tuco glanced around briefly. The town was slowly starting to wake up. He spotted the chestnut horse he’d rode in on hitched in front of a barbershop. “Here,” he said, “why don’t we find a quieter place to talk?”

The kid just nodded.

Tuco hopped into the saddle and swung the kid up to sit in front of him, where he could hold onto the pommel. “I’ve got to make a stop somewhere,” he explained, coaxing the horse into a trot. “It’s just a short ride out of town. But once that’s done I’m gonna bring you back here and we’re gonna part ways, understand?”

The kid nodded again. “I understand.”

“Good.” 

They rode in silence for a bit. The sky was slowly lightening, the deep oranges and pinks of the sunrise fading into a light blue. The kid's small body pressed against Tuco’s chest and Tuco’s arms encircled him as he held the reins, almost but not really an embrace. Eventually Tuco broke the silence. “What about your mama's family?”

“There's my grandpa,” the kid said, “and Aunt Josefina. They live in Abilene. But they don't like me. They say I'm nothing but trouble. And they were always telling Mama she should have never had me. I didn’t want to stay with them. That's why I ran away.” 

“And you've been, what, wandering around on your own for three months?”

“Yes. I'm working for the landlady at that hotel right now. I've been doing odd jobs, but I can't stick with them for more than a few days. I get distracted too easy.” 

“You know, I always had that problem, too. But you better find something to stick with. You don’t want to end up a bandit like me.”

The kid tipped his head back to look up at him. “Why not? You seem to be doing alright.”

Tuco chuckled and rubbed his neck. He still had a few scars there from all the rope burn. “Sure, it's alright most of the time, but when it gets bad it gets real bad, and quick. I'm only alive because God likes me. And because a certain blonde bastard is a really good shot.”

“Well,” the kid said, puffing his chest a little. “Maybe God likes me, too.”

“No, I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

“If He did, you wouldn't have a bandit for a father.”

Eventually they came upon a small grouping of cacti amongst a pile of rocks. Tuco dismounted and helped the kid hop down from the saddle. The kid stared up at the tallest cactus. “That one's shaped like a—”

“A prick,” Tuco said. “Yeah. That's how I remember this place. If that thing ever gets cut down I'm fu— err, in trouble.” 

He unhooked a small shovel from among his saddlebags. He'd started carrying it with him for convenience's sake. “Right,” he said, tossing it to the kid. “You can help me dig. That's what Tuco does, he digs.”

Between the two of them, it only took a few minutes before they hit the sack of gold. The kid's eyes were enormous as he watched Tuco open it. “Is that real?”

“Of course it's real,” Tuco said. He counted out about a thousand dollars’ worth and scooped it into his satchel. “You think I'd have it buried out here if it wasn't?”

“Just like Captain Flint's treasure,” the kid murmured.

“Who?”

“Oh, um…” The kid looked a bit sheepish. “It's from a story about pirates. I read it in a boys’ magazine.”

Tuco raised his eyebrows. “You like to read?” 

The kid smiled and nodded. “I like adventure stories, mostly. But Aunt Josefina told me I'm not supposed to read them.” He began to look sheepish again. “I want to write one of my own, someday. I don’t know what to write about, though. I've never been to the jungles of Africa and I don't really know that much about pirates, either.”

“A writer, huh?” Tuco whistled as he put back the rest of the gold and filled in the hole. He'd never been very good at reading; the letters always seemed to get jumbled up whenever he looked at them. “My kid, a writer! Who'd have thought it…” 

When the gold was good and re-buried, he straightened up. “Well. Time to be heading back.”

The kid looked away. “...Yes.”

Soon enough they were in the saddle again and riding back the way they came. The kid was quiet. Tuco had to admit to himself that he was starting to feel bad about turning him loose. 

He was starting to imagine buying a farm or something up north and watching the kid run around feeding the chickens or playing with the goats or whatever. That was the kind of life his parents had given him growing up, even though they were poor. It had been a very long time since he'd had a real family like that. He wanted it, he realized. He wanted it bad.

But the tragedy of it was that he knew himself too well. He'd never be able to settle down and stay in one place. He'd been running for so long that he felt like if he stopped, he'd die. And it was true that an outlaw's company was no place for a kid. Tuco knew that one day his luck would run out and he'd hang, really hang. If nothing else the kid shouldn't have to see that.

Some impulse made him pat the kid on the head and ruffle his hair. The kid looked up at him with his big brown eyes. Tuco swallowed. “...Hey. You know, the story of how I got this gold is a pretty good one. Might not be as good as pirates, but maybe good enough for you to write about. Do you want me to tell it to you?”

The kid's eyes lit up. “Yes! Please!” 

“Alright, alright, if you insist.”

The kid leaned back against him and nestled his head into the crook of his arm. Tuco felt a surge of something he rarely felt for anything anymore—affection. He patted the kid's soft curls again. 

“You see, a while ago, I met this man named Blondie. Well, that's what I call him, anyway, he doesn't really have a name. Me and him, we started running this scheme together…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The story was over and the sun was high in the sky by the time they rode back into town. Tuco put about half of the gold he'd brought into a small bag and gave it to the kid. “Here,” he said. “I think you should use this to go back to Abilene. At least until you're a little more grown. But if you really can't stay there, you have an uncle in San Antonio, Pablo Ramirez. He's a priest and a good man, he'd take care of you. And you know where the rest of the gold is; you can take it anytime if you need it. Just be sure to leave a little behind for old Tuco, okay?” He hadn't told the kid about the other stashes, but he didn't need to know everything. 

The kid took the bag in both hands. “I'd still rather go with you, even if I have to become a bandit. I bet I could pick pockets or something, I have small hands!”

Tuco, admittedly, had considered that. “Sorry, kid, the answer's still no.”

The kid nodded. His big brown eyes were suspiciously shiny. “Will I ever see you again?” 

Tuco looked down the street, so he wouldn't have to look at him. “I… I don't know. Maybe. But it's a big world, you know? And I’m still wanted in Abilene.”

Tuco felt arms wrap around his waist, and the kid pressed his face into his chest. It was the first time anyone had hugged him like that in years. It made him feel … warm. 

He patted the kid's back. “Say,” he said. “What's your name, anyway?” 

The kid looked up at him. “Elena.” 

“Huh?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Ah, no,” Tuco said, mentally reconsidering some things. “It's a nice name. For a girl. It's a girl's name.”

“...Yes.” Elena pulled back. “You know, even if you are a bad man,” she said, “I'm happy I met you.”

Tuco gave her a half-smile and one last pat on the head. “Me too, kid. Me too.”

[bimbo-ho]

random true crime facts pt.1

Doing this by people/events.

Don’t @ me ik since of these are basically knowledge

Ted Kaczynski

- Is a Gemini, born may 22nd, 1942

- smelled like spoiled milk

- Unabomber=university and airline bomber

- graduated high school and Went to Harvard at 15

- graduated at 25

- Suspected to be apart of MK ultra

- iq of 167

- youngest professor to be hired at the University of Californian at Berkeley

- Left the university in 1969

- After seeing several of his favorite spots bulldozed or paved over, he started his first foray into ecoterrorism with small acts of defiance against the local developers (real asf)

- all Construction of the bomb was done by hand, no power tools were involved and made the tools he needed by hand

- His case reached the FBI’s desk in 1979, when he placed a bomb in the cargo hold of a commercial airplane

- the airplane bomb didn’t go off

- John Hauser received a bomb containing makeshift shrapnel and died from his injuries.

- had a cool off period and only sent one device between 1986 and 1993

- 1993 killed his second victim

- Was the most expensive cases in FBI history

- the manifesto was published on September 19 and with an appeal for tips

- Where in the manifesto he talked about the consequences of the industrial revolution that have divorced humans from their natural environment and laid out his solution, calling for the inevitable revolution of the people against the technology taking over their lives and a return to primitive life

- His brother thought it was him who wrote the manifesto because kazynski wrote “You can’t eat your cake and have it too” instead of “you can’t have your cake and eat it too”

- David hired a private investigator to gather evidence and compile a dossier that was turned over to the authorities in February of 1996

- Although his lawyers urged him to plead insanity to avoid facing the death penalty, he refused to do so

Richard Ramirez

- A Pisces born on a leap year. February 29th, 1960

- after he was knocked unconscious by a swing at age 5, he began experiencing epileptic fits

- Ramirez smelled like wet leather

- Youngest of 5 children

- Parents were Mexican immigrants

- when he was 12 years old, a cousin who was a Vietnam war veteran showed him pictures of Vietnamese women he had allegedly raped, tortured, and killed

- The following year witnessed the same cousin fatally shoot his wife

- Slept in the cemetery to avoid the abuse of his dad

- Was first called “the walk in killer” and “the screen door intruder”

- Was not the original night stalker

- Loved AC/DC favourite song was the night prowler

- Stabbed a women with a butter knife

- Stomped a women to death left a shoe imprint on her face

- Left his AC/DC hat at the scene of one of his crimes

- A juror Phyllis Singletary, did not show up at the courtroom and was found shot in her apartment

- Ramirez Threatened to Shoot His Prosecutor

Jeffrey dahmer

- Is a Gemini born May 21st, 1960

- To Lionel dahmer a chemist, hard worker and achiever and Joyce dahmer

- Mother was in 20+ medication

- Had a history of injuries as a child

- Had to wear lifts on his shoes when he was six, had to wear casts on his legs for four months, treated for an ear infection, got pneumonia, started developing a hernia had an operation to fix it when he was six

- Was never the same after the hernia surgery his dad said he seemed smaller, more vulnerable, he grew more inwards, sitting quietly for long periods, not stirring and emotionless

- They let Jeffrey name his little brother and he named him David

- David has changed his name and doesn’t want to associate with Jeffrey

- Jeffrey was neglected completely when David was born

- Geographically isolated from everyone else in the town

- At six he started collecting road kill and dead animals

- It’s alleged that he was sexually assaulted at this time Lionel and Jeffrey said it’s not true

- Would play infinity land, was extremely complicated, they’re were sticks that represented men and the “men” disappear one by one in a vortex - He did have afew friends

- They would play “ghost in the graveyard”

- He took the remains of a fetal pig home and kept the skeleton in grade 9, starting branching out killing dogs and cats. All he knew was he wanted to see what the insides looked like

- Would show up to high school drunk and Was once asked what was in his water bottle that was filled with alcohol and he responded with “this is my medicine”

- Was obsessed with a jogger as a teenager and planned to attack him with a bat but the day he planned to the jogger didn’t show up

- started heavily drinking at 14

- had a dead body in his bed when the police gave him his 14 year old victim back

- Showered ontop of decomposing bodies in his apartment

- “only killed the pretty ones”

- worked at a chocolate factory and stored severed heads in his locker

- got fired from the chocolate factory cuz he smelled so bad

- police smelled his apartment at first and said it didn’t smell like human decomposition but shit

[a-bucky-a-day]

| A YEAR OF MARVELS -JULY- INFINITE COMIC #1

By Chuck Wendig and Juanan Ramirez

[richardsletters]

Full name: Richad Ramirez   Date of birth: 2-28-60 Height, weight, shoe size: 6'1' 180 - 12 Hometown: Texas Marital status: Single             Family: 5 Wheels: Lamborgini in the SQ parking lot ha   Brother:4   Sister:1 Most Treasured honor: My dick Perfect women or man: Me Childhood Hero(s): Jack The Ripper Favorite TV shows: The Munsters Favorite Movies: Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Night of the living dead Favorite songs:  “” Favorite Songs: Led Zap, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden Metallica, Ozzy. AC/DC Billy Idol Favorite singers:”” Favorite musicians:”” Hobbies: Slicing + dicing + spicing up Rump Roast. Favorite meals: Woman's feet Why you wrote me: cause your up on the times. Or so it seems. And your fine. Recommended reading: All murder books. True crime magazines Last book read: Marquis DeSade -  Jullietta + Justine Ideal evening: Full moon, sex + drugs all night Every January 1st, I resolve: Can't say here. ha Nobody knows I'm: ?? My biggest regret: Not carrying a gun at all times. ha

If I were president, I'd: rule with an iron heart and a rock hard dick. Who: I don't like about people: Everthing. 99% of the people suck. I like most women though. My biggest fear: Nothing. The supernatural maybe Pet peeves: ?              Superstitions: ? Friends like me because: I aint got friends. Associates only Behind my back they say: ?? If I were an animal, I'd be: a tyrannosaurus. Personal goals in life: ?? Favorite color: Black   Favorite number: 666 Political views: None all politicians can eat shit Thoughts on crime: It's a wheel. your either the driver or the one who gets crushed by it. Try and avoid (?) Thoughts on drugs: Great. They should be legalized Thoughts on sex: Great. Everthing goes. Sexual likes/dislikes: Great. Everything is good. Except fags. Women lesbians are ok. Describe first sexual encounter: Prostitute. I was 12 years old What I expect from friendships: Nothing Religious thinking: Satanic evil motherfucker What you are thinking now: Can I suck your toes

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Pitch for a “Zathura” revival:

Taking place sometime after “Jumanji - Welcome to the Jungle”, it’s revealed that when Jumanji turned itself into a video game cartridge, it split off its bottom half. The bottom half, Zathura, goes missing for several years.

In the present day, we’re introduced to the Ramirez family, who are on vacation in Nevada because the youngest wanted to visit Area 51. While rummaging through a souvenir shop, the family stumbles across Zathura, which had turned itself into a CD-based game. Thinking that Zathura is a game based on Area 51, they buy the game. When the family returns to the hotel, the youngest decides to play Zathura on their console and manages to convince their family to play along (the type of console depends on which company is willing to sponsor the movie).

From there, the wackiness begins as the Ramirez family are sucked into Zathura, with the only way out being that they need to defeat the villainous Zorgons and save the galaxy in order to finish the game.

Fancast:

The Ramirez family -

1) Pedro Pascal as Carlos Ramirez, the patriarch of the family

2) Salma Hayek as Sarah Ramirez, the matriarch of the family

3) Xolo Mariduena as Hector Ramirez, the eldest son

4) Isabela Merced as Ana Ramirez, the eldest daughter

5) (insert actress here) as Carmen Ramirez, the youngest sibling and a sci-fi nerd/alien enthusiast who wanted to visit Area 51.

The Zathura avatars -

1) Zoe Saldana as Galactica Roddenberry, the badass space heroine who was sent to battle the Zorgons. She is Carmen’s avatar. (general parody of the sci-fi action protagonist)

2) John Cho as Rick Neutron, the loud-mouthed scavenger/thief who is only concerned about money. He is Carlos’ avatar. (parody of Han Solo, Malcolm Reynolds, and Peter Quill)

3) Adria Arjona as Dex, a troubled telepath who was being experimented on by the Zorgons. She is Sarah’s avatar. (parody of Jack from Mass Effect, River Tam, and Leeloo from Fifth Element)

4) Ewan McGregor as Cl’eerk Grawn’kt, an assassin/mercenary from an alien race that lives underwater. He is Hector’s avatar. (general parody of the alien ally protagonist)

5) Daisy Ridley as Q-14633, a sentient robot who was designed by the Zorgons but reprogrammed to serve the humans. She is Ana’s avatar. (general parody of the robot ally protagonist)

[faytelumos]

Hi! I rediscovered your aliens find cryogen-frozen humans story, and i couldn’t help wonderingif you would ever do a part 3?

Here it is, after quite a long time! Hopefully I get part 4 out faster than this. 😅

Into the Black With a Matchstick, pts 1-2 recap

first previous

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Previously, on Into the Black:

"This style and material composite isn't in our registry," Engineer Tinel declared. She looked up to Admiral Paxie. "We haven't met this species yet."

The first step was to send the Greeting Call. The way a society answered the Greeting Call was often the best way to determine if they were ready for First Contact.

"S-sir! We're being hailed!"

"Greetings. I am Admiral Uten Paxie of Arkinu. Our species is the Xoixe. It is a pleasure to meet a new race of intelligence."

"I am Captain Adina Ramirez of Earth, and this is Lieutenant Johnathan Harrison. We weren't expecting to meet intelligent life on our journey. Normally, we probably would have packed a few extra diplomats."

"Would you feel more comfortable if we contacted your diplomats?"

"Even if we could, our home planet is twelve lightyears away."

Captain Eme leaned his head close to Paxie's and uttered lowly: "They don't have any rings on their ship."

This ship had no rings or projection structures. They had just been puttering through the system on a barely active engine.

"How many generations have passed on your ship, Captain Ramirez?"

"None; everyone on this ship is in cryogenic stasis."

What in the name of Creation had caused a species to freeze all crew on a ship?

"What the fuck?" Eme breathed.

"Captain Ramierez, how long have you been traveling?"

26,008,372 years, 217 days, 8 hours, 36 minutes

The agreement had been that if and when Earth's space travel technology advanced, a crew would catch up to The Solstice and update everything. Maybe even wake the crew and check up on everyone. But almost fifty times the length of recorded human history had passed between the launch and this wake-up call.

Humanity was dead.

"I can't do this," Adina breathed, hunched over the cantina table and the regurgitated remains of her hydration pack, "I'm gonna pass out."

"I, I know of something that'll help," John rasped.

"Doctor Harrison, did you smuggle drugs onto an international, interstellar space ship?"

The aliens looked exactly like what would happen if a lion and a hyena had a baby and it came out a dinosaur.

"Are we betting the last members of humanity on that thing's friendliness?" John asked.

"No matter what happens, we're at these people's mercy," Adina whispered.

The boarding party was comprised of three individuals. Admiral Paxie, xenomedic Ensign Kime, and Sergeant Klte. Sergeant Klte was a Qomo, one of the smaller species in the Xoixe's catalog of allies. Given the delicate and relatively defenseless physiology of the new aliens, Paxie had determined that Klte would be the best received as the face of the alliance. It stood on four thin legs, rose up on an elegant, slim torso, and had four thin arms, a sleek, mostly featureless face, a thin, lipless mouth, large, black eyes, and pale skin. It was downright cute.

"Admiral," Kime uttered, looking at the new aliens, "these creatures are exhibiting signs of extreme stress."

"Hopefully our new friends will be comfortable enough joining us to tell us what's happened here," Paxie said.

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