#he did this show in mexico THE LAND OF MY FAMILY!!!!!!!!

[jeonsbwi]

chef taehyung in ‘서진이네’ teasers 1 & 2 ♡

#btsgif #bangtangifs #dailybts #usersky #taehyung #kim taehyung #v #bts #bangtan #mine #( i'm EXCITED!!! #he did this show in mexico THE LAND OF MY FAMILY!!!!!!!! #i wonder if he'll be speaking some spanish??? I'D LOVE TO HEAR IT )

[baby-jaguar]

Meeting Johnny

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 2,726 CW: None

AN: I'm alive! Sorry this is so short, this was a good stopping point and I need to work on my world-building for Soap before getting to the next part. Just know- I haven't given up on this AU (It's literally my firstborn, blood, and soul, but I will be a bit slow until my brain juices stay flowing. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the Introduction for the explanation and precursors to the scene.

Introduction, Biography

--------

Johnny’s proposal to you was quick in terms of a few letters exchanged; three letters in, he invited you to come out and sent you enough money to figure out accommodations to get to him. As soon as you read those words at the post office, you ran home high on endorphins and adrenaline began packing your bags without grandiose care in the world. The fire inside you licked at the bottom of your heart, anger at staying in this shithole for far too long and feeling a sense of belonging- the sense of feeling wanted to make you have an ulterior purpose in life as if a phoenix reborn and spreading its wings while nose-diving into the unknown. When your parents came home as you zipped your bags, you sincerely couldn’t give a flying fuck as you shoved past them and began berating your parents with a grand show of a public yelling match for the neighbors to hear. 

Good for you! 

You had already planned how to get to him after receiving his first letter back; First step, buying a train ticket that led you to Santa Fe, New Mexico. From there, you had to embark on the Gila Trail, before having to buy your horse and head out on the San Diego Crossings wagon road by yourself. 

This trip was a long haul, and you prayed that Johnny would trust in your quickly established faith to wait out for you. The promise of a strong and loving man is all you could think about...

While in your adrenaline-filled escape, you hadn’t plucked the book in your room that hid his photo as a bookmark, but thankfully had grabbed the letter that gave you his directions. While you scavenge your mind to have a solid image of him, you think over his features and re-read the letters countless times.

Johnny has a background of all sorts, having grown up in a family that held their bond strong, especially after his father had passed in a mining cave-in, which rendered him the man of the house from a young age. Even in his brief telling of these events, you could tell he’s moved out to California to find a deeper meaning of himself, create the line in concrete for it to harden as he ages. 

That isn’t to say that he has lost his sense of boyishness, not at all in fact. His stories that he wrote even contained small doodles along the borders to better depict what he was writing about, and it was half your mind to cut them out and keep them as little bookmarks or place them in your wallet as a keepsake. He was playful, writing jokes about the smallest things, even letting you in on some secrets about the people in his town before you got there.

While the sense of his flame burned hot in multiple directions, deep in his hearth was a passionate man. Just as he seemed so sweet, with a flick of his wrist the writing would turn into something hot enough to make you blush, averting your eyes as your mind ran wild with his thoughts. He seems to enjoy a bubble bath… but maybe only when you’re in it with him. Even writing about the future and him stating he wants a family by any means, you could only imagine a deep possessiveness inside of him to claim you as such. Even if you were able to have his biological children or not, he’d still make sure you felt like you did.

But back to your journey. 

The course of the trains provided you an oversight of the new lands you had yet to ever see, as it was the beginning stages of territories turning into states. The rides were long, and adjusting to the set time zones was a large throw-off to your circadian rhythm. Having already traveled two states west, it was difficult to decide on which line would grant you the fastest access to Johnny. Luckily enough, a kind person in the Denver station helped point out that taking the route from northern Nevadah into California would grant you the fastest time, and ease your solo traveling. 

The kind person stated that they were in a similar situation and now waiting for the train, having a bit of time to offer some advice while making it toward their end goal. Thanking them with bountiful wishes and good luck’s in their journey, you were on your way.

It took four more days to find yourself in Temecula, California. An astonishing change from the desert lands that reflected the sun so brightly now showed the capabilities of a plush environment of greenery and clouds. The train station was reached as the sunlight began pouring in over the mountains; being quick on your feet, and from the other settlers being far too tired, you found a deal on the last remaining horse available. 

Traveling by horseback prompted challenges with reading Johnny's directions, and you did not want to admit that you were lost. The lack of directory and signage left you getting flustered already by noon and being left alone in such a rural area in between towns felt far more daunting than any part of this trip. Passing by stagecoaches who all seemed to know their way around, you filed in line through a secondary road filled with houses in the valley of the small mountains.

Three hours later and a small urge to cry while having given up on re-reading the letter, you accepted defeat when you saw someone sitting on their porch down a dirt road with his house being the only one there.

“Hi! Excuse me, sir?” The sound of your voice breaks through the stillness of the settling valley, enough to make the man look up from the table he is currently hunched over.

“Would you mind helping me out by giving me directions?” Willing yourself to not blush or shrink into your large coat, embarrassment running through your chest while in the new environment.

For a moment, the man doesn't seem to acknowledge you, having to do a double take before his eyes widen in surprise. The toothpick that was delicately hanging on his lip falls to the ground, less he even notices before he sits up straight readjusting his hat, and clears his throat.

“‘Course, my dear. How can I be of service.” His accent is rich, leading you to believe that he’s been raised in the West, and has a perfectly smooth twang to his speech as it leaves his side smile.

“I’m looking for the country store… There’s supposed to be an old Coke sign on it.” The words leave you in a higher pitch than you’d normally speak, having a handsome stranger stare at you with a wide-eyed stare as he watches your lips move. “And to be honest- I wouldn’t know if I’m in the right place to begin with.” 

As if snapped back to reality again, eye contact cut short as he blinks before looking down the road and then back to you. “Ah, store’ way down yonder with a crossing sign. If yer’ headed west then a left will take you to the interstate,” A nod confirms his sense of confidence in his directions, explaining it plain and simple as the roads that his house lies on.

The smile that crosses your face lights your eyes, and it's the most relief you’ve gotten ever since getting on horseback. “Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” Your hands pull on the reigns of the horse, already turning around to try and beat sunset before it's too dark to ride alone.

Before you’re out of earshot, “When you’re in, you gotta stop and ask Ms. Bell for somma’ her sweet tea. But remember, take a right, and you’ll end up right back here to me.” The wink that leaves him makes you question if you’re seeing things in the late light of the day, but you’re sure he can see the blush that burns your cheeks.

A laugh leaves you before nodding in response, now clicking your horse into a quick trot while you’re high on the adrenaline from the interaction. Well… at least you have a backup plan in case your bachelor doesn't work out.

Arriving far too quickly than you’d expect, the store was only a few minutes down the road and concealed by a line of trees. Hitching your horse and walking into the store on stiff legs, you plan on following the stranger's advice to get some sweet tea.

The bell above the door jingles as you walk in, catching the attention of the older woman behind the counter. Here eyes take in your form, surprised such a fresh-faced person has arrived this late into the day. “How can I help you, sweetheart?” Her voice rings out a bit rough, someone who knows how to pull her weight if trouble would arrive.

“I’m actually looking to get to someone's home near town, but I was told to make my way from this store to not get lost.” A pause as your eyes take in the scenery of the rustic store; A layer of dust settled onto the wooden floors as shelves are stocked with an assortment of canned goods, spices, and a few refrigerators labeled as eggs and milk. “Met a stranger on the way and was told I should get some sweet tea here, too.”

Her eyes, still studying you as you speak and noting your accent, or lack thereof, bring a small quirk to her face. “Well, lemme get you some of my tea while you get yourself found.” Leaving her seat she makes her way to a wall in the back, pulling out two large mason jars with a light brown liquid. 

“That stranger you met- was he small ways up north fr’mere?” The smile on her face grows as she walks back to her seat at the register as you walk forward to meet her.

“Yes… A lone house down a single road. Blue eyes, brown hair, and some stubble.” The answer is pulled from you automatically, reciting the mental image of him.

“Toothpick in his mouth?”

The question is almost absurd in how spot-on she is, but then again this is a very small town. “Yes.”

The answer makes her laugh, somewhat un-ladylike when compared to the women from your home, and the noise makes you startle in place for a second.

“That damn Johnny makes me work my ass off to keep this tea in stock. He’s been so stressed waiting for his person to come ‘nd has been drinking me straight out of this stuff.” She levels when calming down for a moment, now placing the jars in bags.

She has yet to look back up at you and fails to notice your limbs seemingly frozen in place as the air leaves your lungs. That was Johnny?

“I’m so sorry ma’am. Did you say that was Johnny? As in MacTavish?”

The rustle of the brown paper bags stops, her eyes darting up to find yours. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She murmurs lowly before a sly smile takes over her face. “You’re here, and you’re damned too good from what you made yourself out to be, sweetheart.” 

Still frozen with your mind reeling, adrenaline begins to pump back into your bloodstream while a jolt alights your muscles. “Oh- I’m so sorry ma’am, I must get going its getting late and-”

The sliding of the jars on her counter interrupts your rambling, “Ah ah, its Ms. Bell dear, and you best be taking this with you to him. Don’t worry bout nothin’ but I’m happy to welcome you to the town.” 

If you looked now, you could notice the tremor in your hands. Nodding and taking the bag, a rush of endless ‘thank you’s’ and an elated smile seats itself permanently before loading the bags on the saddle and turning back around to start galloping forward back towards where you once were.

—

The sound of horses and wagons isn’t a constant to Santa Ysabel during the night hours, usually only occurring after the dayshift ends. As Johnny sits on his porch, his mind muddled with confusion as he stews over his soon-to-be partner arrives, thoughts of the stranger asking for directions makes him confused.

Fresh toothpick in his mouth as he widdles away at a bar of tallow, working to pull off glycerine for work. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence, right? The picture you sent was muddled down with water stains, and he blamed it on the damn train that sent your envelopes out this way. It was beginning sunset, and though he couldn't make out most of your features because of the coat you concealed yourself in- 

The bar of soap drops to the ground and he curses, now jumping out of his mind and into the present. 

The sound of hooves beating and approaching make him look up.

There, Here, you’re back again and the whites of your teeth are illuminated by the fading sun to show your smile.

Slowing down your horse to a stop, breathing in a slight pant as compared to your horses, the smile never leaves you.

“Figure you need some more directions, sweetheart?” His drawl leaves him, standing to make his way towards you. 

“Take off your hat.” The response is curt, and demanding in a way, but that glimmer of excitement makes it sound so sweet.

Johnny himself is befuddled for a moment, eyebrow cocked but complies anyway. Now raising the hat off of his head and holding it to his chest, his eyes answer for him. This what you wanted?

A small sound of excitement leaves you, nodding before your leg swings over your saddle, dismounting with a small jump and walking forward.

“Johnny, it's me.”

A swear leaves his mouth, accompanied by a rush of air before he drops his hat to the side and plucks hit toothpick out with it. The smile that coats his face makes him appear so young and boyish at heart as he moves forward with arms open to wrap around your hips with a low growl, “C’mere you,”

You could be embarrassed by the small squeal that leaves you, but you couldn’t give a rat's ass on anything right now. He spins you around for a quick moment, arms around your body as he lifts you easily with his strength.

Staring down into his eyes, you grab a shoulder while the other hand cups his jaw. “Didn’t know it was you until Ms. Bell said something.”

He laughs, head tilting back in bewilderment at the situation and excitement. “Talkin bout her sweet tea?” He asks while setting you down on your feet, hands never straying as he pulls you against him and traverses over your body.

“Yes, gave me some to bring home.”

The use of home sparks his heart with a bright thrum, butterflies encasing his stomach while he rumbles out a laugh. The texture of his hands is both soft and ruff, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones before one hand moves to brush over your hair, cupping the back of your neck.

“Well, in that case, welcome home, sweety.” The rumble sends a shiver down your spine, eyes darting over his face before settling on his lips. A breath settles before you look back into his sharp blue eyes, as he looks at you seemingly waiting for permission.

A small nod of your head and gently pulling him towards you, the band on the back of your head pulls you forward as he brings your lips together. The taste of him has a spice to it, the favor of cinnamon cotes his lips and brings a slow burn over yours while his body’s warmth brings another wave.

The stubble of his beard rubs your face- and it's a welcome feeling as compared to the winds of the valleys whipping past you. Something you’d gladly leave your skin bright red and raw from hours of the feeling.

Before growing too heated, you part with a small gasp and trail him slightly before blinking to find his smirk growing as a low rumble vibrates against you. “Let's get you settled in, then we can celebrate s’more.”

--------

[Who do you all think the reader met at the train station? If you get the song reference for their meeting you get two gold stars! I hope yall enjoy.]

#cod mw2 #task force 141 #call of duty #tf141 #call of duty modern warfare #captain john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #tf141 x reader #john mactavish

[motomamisbizcochito]

Holding Back(Namor x Latina!OC)

Pairing: Namor/Maritza Stark

Rating: T for now but will go up to M in future chapters

Word Count: 10,027

Contains: Mentions of religion, superstitions, and spiritual cleansing

Summary: Maritza Stark had a strange encounter on the beach when she was seven during a family summer vacation in her mother’s hometown. The encounter became forgotten after her mother’s untimely death a few months later, her entire world spiraling out of control. As an adult she dismissed the encounter as a child’s overactive imagination. Years later when her father lands himself in a conflict with the king of an underwater kingdom, she starts to realize maybe she wasn’t as imaginative as she originally thought.

Author’s Note: The first fic I’ve ever posted on Tumblr🥳 This is a work in progress so there will be many future chapters. This is just the first of many. I loosely based it off the song ‘Holding Back’ by BANKS. I’ve been listening to her album Serpentina a lot while writing this. Really recommend listening to BANKS. I think she’s one of the most underrated artists. I will also be posting this fic on fanfiction.net and archive of our own. Sorry if the Spanish is bad in this chapter. I’m not entirely fluent and there’s also a spiritual cleansing mentioned in this chapter. I’ve never personally had one but I based it off a video of one I saw and the story my mom told me about the one she had when she was a little girl. Hope you enjoy the chapter!!!

Chapter One

2004

Punta Allen, Quintana Roo

Mexico

“God, could it be any fucking hotter,” Tony Stark grumbled as he and his longtime girlfriend walked along the shore of the seaside Mexican town. The same town his girlfriend originally hailed from. Years before she made it all the way to the US and years before she met him at a UCLA college party of all places.

“Stop your whining,” Yesenia told him as she rolled her eyes, walking arm in arm with Tony as she watched the waves roll along the sandy beach. “I know you hate being away from the lab, but you promised you’d participate in the family vacation.”

“I know I promised that but that was before I was sweating my ass off in Mexico,” Tony complained, and Yesenia knew her boyfriend was a big baby.

“Just try…if not for me then for Maritza,” Yesenia said, gesturing towards their seven-year-old daughter. Tony followed her gaze and he swallowed hard when he noticed their daughter collecting seashells on the sandy beach only to deposit them in her beach pail. “She needs normal family things like this. She needs normalcy period.”

“You’re right,” Tony admitted even though he still found the heat and humidity unbearable. He would much rather be in the lab back home, but he couldn’t deny this was nice. Quality family time. Unlike what he experienced during his own childhood. Not even his mother could manage to pull Tony’s father from the lab and Tony promised himself this would be different. His daughter would never have a childhood like his.

“Daddy, look at this one,” Maritza said, running up to Tony excitedly and showing off the seashell she just found. The little girl was a replica of her mother. The same brown skin, same smile, same nose, same eyes, and even the same laugh. Although she did get her dark brunette hair color from him. Tony already knew he’d probably have to play the overprotective dad part when she got into those dreaded teenaged years.

Something he wasn’t looking forward to.

“Oh wow…another shell,” Tony said, trying to sound impressed and Maritza pouted.

“It’s a conch shell,” Maritza said as if he should’ve known that. Tony nodded, recognizing the name and shape when she informed him of that.

“Right. The one where you can hear the ocean through it,” Tony said, and Maritza giggled.

“Silly. You can’t hear the ocean through the shell,” Maritza said, placing the shell in Tony’s hand and he looked down questioningly at the shell. “Air’s trapped inside because of the shape. You hear the air’s vibrations.”

“Huh…I didn’t know that,” Tony said before Maritza simply giggled before running back down the beach to find more shells. Tony glanced at Yesenia who just smiled.

“See? There are things not even the great Tony Stark knows,” Yesenia joked as she grinned at him and Tony scoffed. “She’s like you by the way. She just knows things.”

“Great. It means she��ll probably be a smart ass like me too,” Tony said with a joking tone, but it was clear that he was worried about her. She was already like him. More advanced than most kids her age. She was already at a seventh-grade reading level at the age of seven. Tony knew how isolating it could be being a Stark and being intellectually superior to kids your own age. It was very lonely. Tony had hoped that she wouldn’t be like him. That she would be a normal kid.

However, it was becoming obvious that wasn’t the case. She was like him. A true Stark.

In more ways than one.

“Good thing she’s way cuter than you,” Yesenia teased him, and Tony just rolled his eyes as they continued along the shore. Not noticing the pair of eyes that followed them from the ocean as the small family went along their way.

“I’d say she’s more like you. Interested in all that under the sea stuff,” Tony retorted, and Yesenia giggled. The young couple were oblivious to the pair of eyes as it would seem.

Maritza looked up and squinted her eyes as she thought she saw something in the distance. She hoped it was a dolphin. Maritza dreamed of seeing a dolphin, but she blinked a second later and whatever it was disappeared. She noticed some driftwood floating nearby and figured that the sun must’ve played a trick on her eyes.

The small girl went back to seashell hunting without further thought.

“There’s an old legend passed down from parent to child over many generations, you know. I told it to your mother and my mother spoke of it to me,” Maritza’s grandmother Palmira told her as she tucked the small girl in for bedtime. A tradition that always happened whenever Maritza and her parents visited her grandmother. Her grandmother would always tell her stories. “A cautionary tale.”

“What legend?” Maritza questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her as it always did. It seemed like Maritza was a little too like her father in that way. Her grandmother smiled at her only grandchild.

“The one of K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza’s grandmother told her, and Maritza furrowed her eyebrows at the sound of the strange name. “Which is what the Mayans, our ancestors, called him and the Aztecs called him Quetzalcoatl. The winged feathered serpent. A god to our ancestors but something else to everyone that ever lived here. He possesses many more names. Some not as kind.”

“He’s a snake?” Maritza asked in distaste. She hated snakes. Something about the way they slithered around creeped her out. “A giant snake? A giant flying snake? Abuela, that’s my worst nightmare.”

“He’s more man than snake,” Maritza’s grandmother said with a knowing look in her eyes. As if she knew this information firsthand.

“Who? Kuku?” Maritza questioned, completely butchering the name. Her grandmother smiled in amusement but shook her head.

“K’uk’ulkan,” She whispered but raised a finger to her lips. “But never speak his name too loud or you’ll summon him.”

“Why? Is he bad?” She questioned.

“He’s worshipped as a god in many parts of Mexico but it’s only in the small villages near the ocean that know the truth of K’uk’ulkan and his fury with those who live in the surface world,” Her grandmother told her, and Maritza was hooked on her every word. Her grandmother’s stories were always so interesting and different from the ‘Goodnight Moon’ type books her dad would read her before bedtime. “K’uk’ulkan lives at the bottom of the ocean. In his own kingdom. Every so often he’ll come to the shore to claim the lives of those of us who live on land as a ploy for vengeance. He and his people sing a song, luring the surface people into the ocean where they sink to their deaths.”

Maritza watched her grandmother with wide eyes.

“He is said to seduce beautiful women, luring them to their deaths as well,” Palmira listed off before meeting her granddaughter’s eyes. “And he even comes from the ocean to claim the lives of misbehaving children. He takes them to the bottom of the ocean with him. Only never to be seen again.”

“Yeah, right,” Maritza said, laughing nervously. “You’re just saying that to scare me. It’s the same thing as Mami and Daddy telling me to behave, or Santa won’t bring me any presents.”

“Believe what you want, Mi Nieta,” Palmira said before continuing. “But the legend of K’uk’ulkan is well known around here. He is to be respected but never acknowledged and you never want him to ever acknowledge you. Because once he sets his sights on you then that’s it. You’re destined for a cursed death. Never to escape K’uk’ulkan’s wrath.”

Maritza gulped fearfully and despite her logic, she was terrified of the tale her grandmother just told her. Terrified to think there was some monster that lived in the ocean just outside her grandmother’s house that would lure her to the ocean and drown her, not caring if she was just a child. A sea monster that liked killing people simply because he could.

“Yeah, but that’s only here. Right, Abuela?” Maritza asked hesitantly. “He wouldn’t be in Malibu, right?”

“The ocean is a big place, Maritza,” Her grandmother answered vaguely, and Maritza felt her heart hammering in her chest.

“Mami, you’re not telling Maritza about K’uk’ulkan, are you?” Yesenia questioned in disbelief as she leaned against the doorway. Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly as he joined Yesenia.

“Cuckoo who?” Tony questioned and Yesenia rolled her eyes.

“Not Cuckoo. K’uk’ulkan,” Yesenia elaborated as she tried to explain her mother’s superstitions to her very rational and very white boyfriend. “He’s a Mayan deity and a cautionary tale around these parts. Something parents tell their kids, so their kids behave. Like La Llorona or El Cucuy.”

“Daddy, Abuela said that he’s this monster that lives in the ocean and he hates people on land, so he lures them to the ocean and drowns them. Even kids like me,” Maritza rambled on, and Yesenia gave her mother an annoyed look. Tony just looked amused. “That once he sets his sights on you then you’ll never be seen again.”

“Mami!” Yesenia said in anger. “I can’t believe you told Maritza that. She’s going to have nightmares now. She’s going to regress. We finally got her to sleep in her own bed.”

“Don’t worry, Ritzy,” Tony told his daughter nonchalantly. “This Cuckoo guy would take you to the ocean for two seconds before you talked his ear off so much that he ended up sending you back.”

Maritza didn’t look very comforted by her father’s words and Yesenia smacked his shoulder. She didn’t find it very amusing that her mother probably traumatized their daughter into never sleeping again. Especially not with the ocean right outside the house. Yesenia remembered the nightmares she had as a child after her mother told her the stories about K’uk’ulkan. She couldn’t believe her mother did the same thing to Maritza.

“Mami, we’re having a serious conversation about this tomorrow morning,” Yesenia said seriously to her mother as her grandmother left Maritza’s side to join the other two adults leaving the room. Tony paused as Yesenia and her mother exited the small guest room.

“Daddy, don’t close the door,” Maritza begged and Tony smiled softly before nodding.

“I’ll leave the light on too,” He promised, and she returned his smile, grateful for that. Being enveloped in darkness right now wasn’t really what she wanted.

“Night, kiddo,” Tony told his daughter. “Don’t give that Cuckoo guy another thought. It’s not possible for anything like that to live in the ocean. You’re a smart girl. You know that. The scariest thing down there is a shark, and they definitely can’t walk on land.”

Maritza nodded, comforted by her father’s words of logic.

“I know,” Maritza said softly, feeling a lot better. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tony told her. “Sleep tight.”

With that, her father left the room and Maritza listened to the patter of his footsteps down the hall. She nestled deeply into her covers. The heat was long gone at this time of night and now she just felt the cool ocean breeze.

He was right.

K’uk’uklan wasn’t real.

“Maritza…”

Maritza turned around in the darkness, but she didn’t see anything.

“Maritza…” The voice said again. It was a whisper that sounded both soft and aggressive at the same time. It chilled Maritza right to the bone. “Maritza, come here.”

“Who is it?” Maritza called out in the darkness. She didn’t know where she was or where her parents were.

“Maritza…” It hissed and Maritza’s jaw dropped as the voice finally revealed itself. Maritza looked on in horror as an enormous snake slithered out of the darkness. The girl trembled in fear as the creature lurked closer.

It was the worst thing Maritza could ever imagine. Scarier than any nightmare she had before. The creature’s eyes glowed red, its scales were withered, its feathered wings were stained with what looked like blood, and its sharp fangs gleamed under what little light remained in the room. It’s very appearance stroke so much fear into Maritza’s heart that she remained frozen to the spot.

“W-what do you want?” She stuttered, trying not to scream. The creature smirked at her, venom dripping from its fangs. “K’uk’ulkan.”

“Silly child,” he whispered to her. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to say my name.”

Maritza whimpered as he came closer.

“What do you want?” She whined, unable to contain herself. Maritza felt that she was being toyed with. He was toying with her. He chuckled.

“A meal,” he said softly, and Maritza’s eyes widened in horror as he opened his mouth, displaying all his sharp teeth. Maritza screamed as she tried to move…to do anything to get away from the terrifying creature but it was useless. Her feet didn’t want to move.

She was stuck.

“Mami! Daddy!” She screamed in a ploy to get help. The creature just seemed amused.

“It’s useless. They’ll never hear you from down here,” he told her smugly. It was only then that Maritza noticed where she was.

It was alarming she hadn’t noticed it before.

Maritza gasped in surprise at the ocean floor beneath her. Air bubbles escaped her as she struggled to move through the water. K’uk’ulkan started laughing, his eyes glowing an even brighter red.

The gigantic sea creature then reared its head back as if it were getting prepared to strike.

Maritza shielded her eyes, blocking her view of K’uk’ulkan. The sight was too terrifying for her eyes to even comprehend.

“I’ll make it quick.”

K’uk’ulkan lurched forward and Maritza screamed.

“Maritza!” Yesenia exclaimed as she raced into the room followed by Tony and her mother. The small girl was a crying mess. “Maritza! What’s wrong, Mija? What’s wrong?”

“He was going to eat me, Mami!” Maritza cried, sobbing as her mother gathered her in her arms. The poor girl was trembling. Tony rested his hand on her back, looking concerned about his daughter.

“Who was going to eat you?” Tony asked with a furrowed brow. Maritza hiccupped before answering.

“K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza whispered, and Yesenia immediately sent her mother a heated glare. “He said he was going to eat me, and you guys wouldn’t hear me if I called for help because we were at the bottom of the ocean.”

“See?” Yesenia said in an accusatory tone. “I told you not to tell her about those silly K’uk’ulkan stories. Now she has nightmares.”

“I’m getting really tired of hearing about this Cuckoo guy,” Tony grumbled and both Yesenia and her mother glared at her.

“K’uk’ulkan.” They both corrected in unison before Yesenia’s mother glanced at her.

“These stories are told here. You know that,” the older woman said sternly. “It’s tradition.”

“Well, it’s not a tradition I want for Maritza,” Yesenia said seriously. “She’s not from here. She’s American. It’s different there. These superstitious tall tales were normal to me but they’re not normal to her.”

“I told her about K’uk’ulkan because she walks too close to the sea,” Palmira warned, giving her a serious look. “It’s not good for children to walk that close to the sea.”

“Because she’ll drown?” Tony questioned, not understanding her meaning. He rarely did. Tony didn’t know his girlfriend’s mother that well, but he knew her well enough to know that she didn’t like him. She didn’t favor the fact that Tony still hadn’t married Yesenia even after they had Maritza. She also didn’t like the fact that Tony was an atheist and made that very clear to him on a daily basis. “Palmira, we’d never let Maritza go down by the water by herself. She doesn’t go anywhere by herself. You know that.”

“She’s drawn to the water. She feels it’s pull,” Palmira was quick to say. “It’s not good. Not for here. People around here that are drawn to the water disappear. Especially women.”

“What?” Tony questioned incredulously. “You’re not actually saying you believe in this water guy, right? We’re all grown-ups here. We don’t believe in sea monsters.”

“Tony’s right, Mami,” Yesenia said, fixing her mother with a look. “K’uk’ulkan isn’t real. He’s a myth.”

“He might not be real to you in California, but he remains real here,” Palmira said, not backing down in her belief of K’uk’ulkan. Yesenia just shook her head.

“Whatever. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our vacation here and quality family time while putting this behind us,” Yesenia said, wanting to move on from K’uk’ulkan. “If I hear another mention of K’uk’ulkan then we’re going home. I’m serious, Mami.”

Her mother said nothing. Just remained silent in the doorway of the small room while her daughter glared at her, and Maritza remained trembling in Yesenia’s arms. Tony looked worriedly between the mother and daughter.

“Maritza, why don’t you sleep with Daddy and I tonight?” Yesenia said sweetly, as she rubbed her daughter’s back soothingly. “Does that sound nice?”

“I guess,” Maritza said in a small voice. Yesenia gave her daughter a small smile as Tony immediately picked her up from the bed.

“God, kid, you’re getting heavier and heavier,” Tony told her as he began to carry her from the bed. That seemed to get a small giggle out of Maritza. A good sign.

Palmira just watched her daughter and granddaughter leave the room, an unreadable expression on her face. Yesenia didn’t hide the glare she gave her mother as she walked by.

Palmira knew that Yesenia forgot where she came from.

That much was obvious.

Because K’uk’ulkan was nothing to be scoffed at. Not in this small seaside town. He was real. Frighteningly real to the town’s residents and everyone lived in fear of him and in fear of making him angry. Every time a storm hit the small town; the townspeople were scared if it was K’uk’ulkan letting his fury be known.

Or perhaps a warning.

A warning that he would lure more towards the sea to never be seen again.

K’uk’ulkan was never mentioned again during the Almanza-Stark family vacation. Even though Maritza continued to keep thinking about that nightmare and her grandmother’s story. Her interest in K’uk’ulkan had morphed from fear to curiosity. She wanted to ask her grandmother more questions about K’uk’ulkan but didn’t want to risk getting her grandmother in trouble with her mom so kept her questions to herself.

Still…she remained curious as she always gazed over at the ocean during family outings on the beach.

Her grandmother mentioned she was drawn to the sea and seemed concerned that made her more vulnerable to K’uk’ulkan. That people drawn to the sea were more likely to be his victims. She was seven but she wasn’t stupid. She knew there must’ve been some legend or story that made that certain quality a sign of being at the mercy of someone like K’uk’ulkan.

The seven-year-old had become quite obsessed with K’uk’ulkan. It had changed from being scared of the mythological sea monster to wanting to find him. Like he was a unicorn or bigfoot or even the Loch Ness monster. Maritza was determined to catch a glimpse of K’uk’ulkan.

Instead of searching the beach for seashells, Maritza now searched the beach for clues that might lead her to K’uk’ulkan. She was determined to find evidence of the mythological creature’s existence. Especially after seeing how serious her grandmother had been about the story. Like her grandmother was so certain that he existed. It was almost like her grandmother herself was afraid of him.

Her parents lounged on beach towels, soaking up the sun but Maritza was obsessed with finding clues. She didn’t know what she was looking for exactly. If he really was a feathered serpent, then perhaps he shed his skin like snakes did. Well, Maritza was really just basing her knowledge off that Harry Potter movie but still…

Maritza found a dead jellyfish that had been washed up along the shore and she found a couple discarded beer cans that were littered by tourists more than likely but not snake skin. It’s not as though it would leave footprints if it was a snake either.

Maritza was growing frustrated in her hunt for K’uk’ulkan.

“Mija, what are you looking for?!” Yesenia called out and Maritza didn’t even look up from the water. She was standing ankle deep in the water as she started moving rocks and seashells around with a piece of driftwood she found along the shore.

“K’uk’ulkan!” Maritza said nonchalantly as she continued combing through the sand for anything that indicated that K’uk’ulkan had been there.

“Are you kidding me?” Yesenia hissed under her breath as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her daughter who was poking at the sand with a stick. “This again? I’m going to have another talk with mom about-“

“Relax,” Tony said as he stopped Yesenia from getting up from the ground. Probably stopping her from running off to her mother for another argument. “Just leave her be.”

“Leave her be? Anthony…our daughter is currently hunting a non-existent sea monster that gave her a nightmare she woke up crying from the other night,” Yesenia said, angry at the situation. “I need to talk to my mother about this.”

“Does Maritza look scared?” Tony questioned, trying to stop another argument between Yesenia and Palmira. “She’s fine. This is healthy. She’s not scared of the Cuckoo snake thing anymore. Now she wants to hunt him and publish her discovery of a new species in National Geographic. This is how she’s overcoming her fear. Totally normal.”

“I don’t know,” Yesenia said, sounding unsure. Tony nodded.

“This is very normal. She’s an imaginative kid,” Tony reassured her. “Just be grateful she’s not building a robot like I was when I was her age. She’s a normal kid. Perfectly grounded. I’m seventy percent positive she’ll be a well-adjusted young woman someday.”

“Seventy percent sure?” Yesenia questioned and Tony shrugged,

“Well, she is a Stark, after all,” Tony said as if this was very factual stuff. “There’s never a hundred percent guarantee that anything will ever be alright.”

“I guess you’re right but she’s not from here like I am,” Yesenia explained, still looking concerned. “I grew up here. I’m used to all the superstitions and stories. I mean, I don’t really believe in them but at the same time I do. I’ve just always known how to separate urban legend from reality. It’s different for Maritza and you don’t believe in any of that stuff. Not a single part and I’ve never told her the stories my mother told me. She’s a sensitive child. I knew they would traumatize her and especially because I haven’t raised her in that culture. These stories could be very real to her.”

“You’re worrying too much,” Tony told her, and Yesenia knew he was right. She was worrying too much. It was just that coming back home was making her remember all the things she grew up with. Not something she really wanted for her daughter. To be scared to death of a mythological man who haunted the sea. “This is normal kid stuff. Hunting imaginary monsters. It’s good for her get out and enjoy some fresh air. We can’t really afford to do the same thing back home with all the media frenzy. This is good.”

Yesenia relented.

She realized he had a point.

They didn’t have the luxury of going out very often back home. Tony had gained the media’s interest in his younger and much wilder days. Not to mention he dated his fair share of pretty California girls. There was much public interest in his personal life which followed him when he started dating Yesenia Almanza. A young marine biology major at UCLA.

The attention magnified after it was discovered Yesenia was pregnant with a third-generation Stark. Potential genius and future heiress to Stark Industries. Tony and Yesenia had hoped the attention would die down, but Maritza was seven and it didn’t seem like the media attention was dying down any time soon. It wasn’t often they could leave the house and do normal family things.

“You’re right. I’m being crazy,” Yesenia confessed, and Tony shook his head.

“You’re not crazy. You’re protective. There’s a difference,” Tony comforted, and Yesenia rested her head against his shoulder.

“Thank you, Anthony,” Yesenia said, and Tony smiled, always hating being called that by anyone else but he loved the way his name sounded on her lips. “I hope you know you’re going to have a nasty sunburn in a couple hours because you forgot to put on your sunscreen.”

“What? No way,” Tony denied. He didn’t really bother with sunscreen between the smell and the dork he felt like whenever he wore it. “I feel fine. The sun feels nice on my skin.”

“Anthony, you’re so white,” Yesenia said, giggling as she looked at him. “You’re definitely going to burn. I’m going to spend the entire night rubbing aloe vera all over you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Almanza,” Tony quipped, and Yesenia just rolled her eyes before giggling again. Tony leaned over and stole a kiss. Yesenia happily kissed him back, running her hand through his hair. Usually at this point Maritza would make some exclamation about how gross they were but the small girl was too occupied with looking for K’uk’ulkan.

“Let’s let the kid wear herself out looking for Coco Puff and then we’ll work on giving her a little brother or sister tonight,” Tony joked, and Yesenia laughed again before smacking his shoulder. “What? She’d be so happy. She keeps whining about getting a little sister.”

“You’re awful,” Yesenia said although the smile didn’t fade from her face. Tony loved her smile. The way it lit up her whole entire face. Her dark eyes glimmered with warmth and somehow pulled him in further into her atmosphere. Tony wasn’t complaining.

“You love it.”

And she really did.

Maritza waited until it was dark and everyone in the small seaside house was asleep.

She knew they were asleep. The sound of her parents’ laughter died down just before midnight and she could hear her father’s snores from all the way down the hallway to her room. Maritza fought hard to stay awake, knowing the only way she was going to find K’uk’ulkan was if she went along the beach under the cover of darkness.

K’uk’ulkan obviously wasn’t going to appear in broad daylight. He was going to come out in the dark. Everyone knew that sea monsters only came out at night.

Maritza gathered her things.

Her K’uk’ulkan hunting materials. Hunting materials which included her mother’s dissection kit, a pack of crayons, a magnifying glass, and a disposable camera. Technically she wasn’t allowed to touch her mother’s dissection kit but if she found K’uk’ulkan then maybe her mother wouldn’t care.

Everything was stuffed into her Finding Nemo backpack. Her heart was racing with excitement. Her first adventure by herself…well, first adventure doing anything. Her parents rarely let her out of the house back home. The people with cameras were way too intrusive or, at least, that’s what she always heard her mother say to her father.

But there were no cameras here.

Everything was quiet.

Maritza crept through the house, butterfly net in hand as she tried to remain as quiet as possible. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the ocean outside the small house. There was a moment when Maritza was convinced that her father woke up, but she merely heard him shift in his sleep before she heard more snoring.

She snuck out the door and she was free at last.

Maritza half expected her grandmother to catch her. Her grandmother who was always very sneaky, but it didn’t happen. Her grandmother didn’t show up and Maritza was outside in the dark with only the moonlight shining down through the darkness.

The air was still warm but there was a cool ocean breeze through her hair. It felt nice. A lot nicer than the severe heat felt throughout the day. Maritza admired how beautiful the ocean looked at night.

So calm and quiet.

Much different than during the day.

Maritza focused. She had to focus. She came outside to find K’uk’ulkan and she was determined to find him. Maybe not capture him because Maritza was grossed out by snakes, but she was going to catch a glimpse of him. Maritza refused to go back to the house without finding at least one clue that K’uk’ulkan left behind.

“If I were K’uk’ulkan where would I be?” Maritza asked herself as she walked along the beach, gripping her butterfly net tightly in her hands.

Maritza wasn’t sure how long she was out there looking for K’uk’ulkan clues. Maybe an hour. She just knew she was growing bored and tired looking for K’uk’ulkan in the dark. It was starting to seem no different than looking for him in the daytime.

She was close to starting to call his name in the dark even though her grandmother warned her not to say his name too loudly. Very close to giving up and calling for him to see what happened when something strange occurred.

Something very strange.

Maritza was near some palm trees that lined the beach. She was a distance away from the waves calmly caressing the sandy shores. Not just because her parents warned her not to go near the ocean without them but also because a part of her was still scared K’uk’ulkan would sneak up behind her and drag her into the ocean like her grandmother warned.

The strange thing occurring happened to be an individual coming out of the water.

Not just coming out of the water like a swimmer coming back up for air either.

Maritza witnessed a man come out of the water like he’d just gotten back from a nice, brisk walk. No gasp for air or any sign of exhaustion from swimming. He walked out of the water with far more grace than she had ever witnessed in her short life. Maritza’s eyes widened as she quickly dove behind a large piece of driftwood on the beach.

But like most times, her curiosity got the better of her.

She couldn’t refrain from not spying on the mysterious man who had come from the ocean.

Maritza peeked over the top of the driftwood to catch a better look at the strange man. It was a bit difficult to see through the dark, but the moonlight illuminated him well enough. She watched him with interest. She had never seen a man who looked like him before. Well, that wasn’t true. If she didn’t know better, then she’d say he looked like any one of the men she’d seen around town. His skin color just as dark as her mother and grandmother’s skin color if not darker.

That wasn’t what made him different.

It was the way he dressed. The way he carried himself. The man wore a pair of shorts. She would’ve said they were swim trunks, but they were embellished at the waistline with what looked like a gold belt. His chest was bare except for an extensive amount of beautiful jewelry that hung around his neck, capturing Maritza’s eye. What was even more curious to her was the large piercing through his nose.

Cool.

Maritza watched in awe because she had never seen anyone like him. He looked to be around her father’s age but wasn’t anything like her father or any man she had ever seen before.

Almost as though he sensed her eyes on him, he turned in her direction and Maritza’s eyes widened before she quickly ducked down. Praying that she hadn’t been seen.

Maybe he hadn’t seen her.

Maybe she was quick enough that he hadn’t caught her spying on him.

“I know you’re there,” his voice said. His accent was unlike any accent Maritza heard. Nothing like her mother and grandmother’s accent which proved to her that he wasn’t a local. “Show yourself.”

Maritza felt fearful.

What if this man told on her to her parents? Maritza would be in so much trouble. Her parents would never let her go outside again.

“Come now,” he said gently and though she couldn’t pinpoint his accent, his voice was strangely calming. Maritza was lulled from her hiding spot, and she immediately got up from her hiding spot to confront the strange man.

The man seemed almost surprised to see her.

As if he were expecting someone else. He chuckled at the sight of her, and Maritza felt almost offended.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed asleep, little one?” He asked her and Maritza nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I cannot imagine your parents would be pleased to find you out here at this time of night.”

“They’re asleep. They don’t know I’m out here,” Maritza didn’t know what compelled her to say that. She couldn’t describe the hold his gaze seemed to have on her. It was almost as if she was unable to stop herself from saying everything.

“And just what are you doing out here?” He asked and Maritza could tell he was amused by her. The same way her father was amused by her childish antics. She didn’t know why but she didn’t like it. It made her feel like he thought she was a joke.

“I’m looking for K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza said confidently, and the man looked her up and down for a moment, eyeing the butterfly net in her hands before breaking out into laughter. He acted like Maritza just told the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

“And what do you intend to do when you find him? Catch him with that net?” The man questioned and Maritza frowned. She was seven but she could tell when she was being made fun of. Mostly because her dad liked teasing her a lot and she could tell this man was doing something similar.

“Well, I don’t know…I haven’t planned that far ahead. I just want to see if he’s real,” Maritza elaborated, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you have to know if he’s real?” The man asked her, sincerely curious. Maritza shrugged.

“Just because,” she answered, and he snorted.

“Just because?” He pressed and Maritza nodded.

“People act like he’s real, but he sounds too silly to be real, so I have to know if he’s real or not. I want proof,” Maritza explained, and the man nodded, crossing his arms as he spoke to her.

“Why do you need proof? Can’t you just accept that he’s real and move on?” He questioned and Maritza looked at him like he was crazy.

“No,” she said as if that were a dumb suggestion. “I need evidence. Daddy always says that you need to back up your hypothesis with evidence or else it will never hold up.”

The man took a step closer to Maritza and the small girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“What if I told you I was K’uk’ulkan,” he told her, and Maritza shook her head.

“You’re not K’uk’ulkan. K’uk’ulkan is a magical flying snake,” Maritza said, sounding very sure of herself. “You’re a man.”

“You sound disappointed,” he observed, and Maritza took a step back. “I assure you that I’m not a snake.”

“All the books say that K’uk’ulkan is a serpent,” Maritza informed him, and he chuckled.

“Books can be wrong,” he retorted, and Maritza frowned because she didn’t understand that. To her, written words meant truth. If something was written on paper, then it must be true.

Right?

She never thought a book could be wrong.

“I don’t believe you’re K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza said stubbornly. She felt as if the man was playing a trick on her.

“What can I do to make you believe I’m K’uk’ulkan?” He asked calmly but the amusement still twinkled in his eyes. Maritza was stumped. It was only then she realized how little she knew of K’uk’ulkan. She was uncertain of any special traits other than the fact he was some sort of water serpent that flew.

“I don’t know,” Maritza confessed. He just smiled. He knelt down on one knee in front of her so he would match her height. Not that he was very tall. Maritza thought he was shorter than her father but still much taller than herself.

“Perhaps K’uk’ulkan has ears like these,” he said, and Maritza took a glimpse at his distinctly pointed ears. Ones that she hadn’t noticed before through the darkness. Elvish ears. She looked on in wonder. “And perhaps he has wings like these.”

He glanced down at the ground and Maritza followed his gaze, her eyes widening as she noticed the small fluttering wings seemingly attached to his ankles. Something she had never seen on a person before. Maritza was vaguely aware of something called birth defects, but she didn’t think these could be described as a birth defect. They were way too cool. Both his wings and ears.

“Cool,” Maritza said in awe. The look of amusement didn’t fade off his face. “Can you really fly with those wings? Do they work if they’re wet? Have you always had them? Were you born with them? How do your ears work? Do you hear better than most people?”

“You ask a lot of questions, little one,” he told her and Maritza gave him an impatient look. He didn’t answer a single one of her questions.

“Are you going to eat me?” She questioned bluntly and she was so blunt that it surprised the man…or K’uk’ulkan as Maritza was quickly discovering.

“What?” He questioned in surprise.

“My abuela told me that K’uk’ulkan eats children who misbehave,” she told him, and he chuckled. There was a look on his face that indicated that he knew something Maritza didn’t which bothered the small girl. She didn’t like not knowing things.

“And have you been misbehaving?” He asked her nonchalantly. Maritza looked slightly guilty.

“I snuck out of the house to look for you. I’m not allowed to go places by myself,” Maritza said honestly, and she hesitantly took a step back. He didn’t look like the type to eat children. K’uk’ulkan wasn’t scary looking at all. However, she knew that looks could also be deceiving and maybe he really did eat kids. K’uk’ulkan nodded.

“Well, since you’re being honest, I suppose I can forgive your misbehavior just this once,” K’uk’ulkan said, humoring the small child. “I also just had dinner so I’m not particularly hungry at this moment in time.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, relieved that she wasn’t going to be eaten. K’uk’ulkan then gave her a serious look.

“Although you should not wander away from your parents,” he told her sincerely. “Not at this time of night. It’s not safe for someone your age to be wandering around the dark. You would do well to listen to your parents’ wishes.”

“Fine,” Maritza said although she didn’t seem happy about his advice. It’s not like she was going to argue with him. He was sparing her life by not eating her. She’d rather not push her luck. “Do you really live underwater?”

“The questions never end, do they?” He retorted, still amused by her nosiness.

Maritza was about to ask him another question when they were interrupted by the familiar voices of both her mother and father. She realized she must’ve been gone for a while. Her father was a restless sleeper and more than likely discovered her absence when he woke up as he did numerous times during the night.

“Maritza!” She heard her mother call out. “Maritza, where are you?”

Maritza was about to call out to her mother that she was fine. That she found K’uk’ulkan and all was right in the world when something stopped her before she could.

“Diablo!” Palmira Almanza exclaimed in horror. Maritza turned to see her grandmother standing a short distance away near the palm tree. Maritza looked at her grandmother in confusion, not understanding the terror on her face. “Diablo!”

“Abuela, I did it. I found K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza said excitedly as she tried to introduce her grandmother to her new friend. However, Maritza’s so-called new friend seemed unfazed by her grandmother’s name calling. He stared back at the elderly woman coldly before standing up from the ground. “He’s not a snake at all. He’s a person. See?”

“Aléjate de ella! No la toques!” Palmira started saying hysterically in Spanish. Maritza wasn’t well versed in her mother’s native language, so she didn’t quite understand what her grandmother was saying. Only that she was scared. “Tu maldad no puede tocar a alguien con un alma pura, Namor. No puedes quitarle su alma. Aléjate, Namor!”

“Mami! Tony went looking behind the house,” Yesenia called as she joined the three of them on the beach. “Have you found-“

Yesenia stopped midsentence as she saw the man standing in front of her daughter locked into a staring contest with her mother. Only it wasn’t just a man. Under the moonlight, Yesenia could make out his pointed ears and the wings attached to his ankles. The jewelry he wore around his neck also indicated to Yesenia just who he was.

She heard stories growing up. Especially in a town as small as the one she’d grown up in. In fact, Yesenia’s father, a now deceased fisherman, had once claimed to have seen K’uk’ulkan during a fishing trip. Yesenia had always dismissed her father’s story as another drunk tale of his but maybe her father wasn’t just some drunk telling tall tales.

Because K’uk’ulkan looked exactly as how her father described.

Exactly how many people around town had described him.

The few that had managed to capture glimpses of him over the years.

Yesenia was frozen to the spot as she stared at the being she previously thought was just an urban legend. She started feeling fear wash over her. All her mother’s stories coming to mind and just how close her daughter now stood to the man. Yesenia managed to gather her bearings enough to try to get her daughter away from him.

“Maritza!” Yesenia said, her eyes fearful. “Maritza, get over here. Now!”

“But Mami…I found K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza started to say, and Yesenia was growing more terrified by the second. Terrified that K’uk’ulkan would take her daughter into the ocean with him and she would never see her again…or Namor as some liked to call him.

“Maritza, get over here now!” Yesenia snapped and K’uk’ulkan broke his staring contest with Palmira to gaze down at Maritza. His gaze softened as he looked at her, reminded of the small children in his own kingdom. Children who were much too curious for their own good.

“I would go to your mother, my child,” he told her softly. Maritza nodded slowly.

“Okay,” she said, sounding disappointed. She still had more questions for him, after all. “Bye, K’uk’ulkan.”

“Goodbye,” he told her. Palmira continued to glare him down as Maritza returned to her mother’s side. Yesenia quickly grabbed on to her daughter and held tightly on to her as though she were afraid K’uk’ulkan would come back over and steal her.

“Mantente alejado!” Palmira hissed at him. “Mantente alejado, Namor! No te acerques a la chica! Malvado! Malvado!”

Yesenia continued to stare wide eyed at him, nearly trembling in her place. It was the equivalent of finding out the bogeyman was real. For so long, he was a thing of stories that her mother used to tell her but now he was real.

K’uk’ulkan acted as though Maritza’s grandmother wasn’t screaming at him. It was the strangest thing. He ignored her as he simply headed back to the water. Maritza watched curiously as he waded back into the water, her mother clutching her to her side tightly.

He was waist deep before he turned to the three generations of Almanza women. K’uk’ulkan locked eyes with Yesenia. Maritza heard her mother gasp.

“You should keep a better eye on your daughter…her father being who he is. A lot of people would want to hurt her,” K’uk’ulkan told Yesenia in a grave tone. “I don’t wish to see Tony Stark here again. He’s a risk. Your mother will tell you what happens when there’s a risk to my people.”

With that, K’uk’ulkan turned his back to the three of them wading further into the water until he was fully submerged. Maritza was disappointed when he disappeared from sight. There was so much more she wanted to ask him.

Yesenia and Palmira remained frozen to the spot. Neither of them moving as they stared at the quiet and calm waves flow back and forth along the beach.

“Why were you mad at K’uk’ulkan, Abuela? He was really nice,” Maritza questioned, breaking the silence. That seemed to snap her mother out of her state of shock. Yesenia immediately glared at her daughter.

“Maritza, what have I told you about talking to strangers?!” Her mother snapped and Maritza’s eyes widened in fear. She realized she was more than likely in trouble. Her mother was furious. Maritza didn’t think she had ever seen her mother look so furious. “And leaving the house by yourself? What if something happened to you…well, something did happen.”

“I just wanted to find K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza said quietly. “And I did find him. I don’t know why you and Abuela were being so rude to him. He was nice to me.”

“K’uk’ulkan is not nice,” Her mother told her sternly. “He’s evil. You heard the stories your grandmother told you.”

“You said those weren’t true,” Maritza argued, and her mother shook her head.

“Well, they are true. K’uk’ulkan hates people who live on land and takes them with him to the bottom of the ocean any chance he can get,” Yesenia told her daughter, trying to get her point across. “He’s evil, Maritza. To see him is a curse.”

“Daddy said there’s no such thing as good and evil,” Maritza retorted, and Yesenia huffed.

“Evil exists here and it exists in that water,” Yesenia said, and Maritza was confused. She didn’t know why her mother and grandmother seemed so terrified of K’uk’ulkan. He didn’t do anything to her. He didn’t eat her, attack her, or lure her into the ocean with him. She had the feeling K’uk’ulkan had been teasing her, but he hadn’t seemed evil to her…just normal. Aside from his ears and wings.

“Daddy’s not going to believe I actually found K’uk’ulkan,” Maritza said, oblivious to her mother and grandmother’s fear of the man that just disappeared into the water. “I can’t wait to tell him.”

“No!” Palmira said sharply, breaking out of her stunned stage. “You must not tell your father.”

“Abuela’s right,” Yesenia said before locking eyes with her daughter. The seriousness in her gaze was enough to capture Maritza’s attention. “You can’t tell your dad.”

“Why not?” Maritza questioned and Yesenia swallowed hard. She could see the fear in her mother’s eyes, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing her mother so scared.

“He wouldn’t understand,” Yesenia said softly. “K’uk’ulkan doesn’t like people talking about him, Maritza. It’s why people from this town don’t speak of him outside of it.”

“But he’s amazing. People should know-“ Maritza started to say but her mother stopped her. The look in her eyes made Maritza freeze. Her mother looked so scared. It unnerved the small girl.

“Promise me that you won’t speak of this ever again,” Yesenia pleaded with her. “Not to your father and not to anyone back home. This is serious, Maritza. No one must know. You don’t know how dangerous it was for us to see him. It’s not good, Maritza. It’s bad. Very bad.”

“Mami, I-“ Maritza tried to interject but her mother wasn’t having it.

“Promise me,” Yesenia said, eyes filled with tears and her mother was right. Maritza didn’t understand her mother’s fear of the man she just met. “He’s not a good man. He’s not even a man.”

“Evil,” Palmira added, caressing her cross pendant. She looked equally as terrified as Maritza’s mother. “Evil. We’re all cursed.”

“Mami…” Yesenia hissed, glaring at her mother before returning her gaze to Maritza. “Maritza, please promise to not speak of this again. For me.”

Normally Maritza would refuse. Her mother often said she inherited her father’s stubborn streak. Yet the look in her mother’s eyes made Maritza feel scared. It was terrifying to see your parent terrified. Someone Maritza had always viewed as a protector and above things like fear.

Maritza swallowed hard.

“Yes,” Maritza said quietly, and her mother raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, what?” She pressed and Maritza sighed before continuing.

“Yes, I won’t speak of K’uk’ulkan ever again. Not even to daddy and not to anyone back home,” Maritza promised, and Yesenia was satisfied with her answer, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her daughter. She was just happy that Maritza was safe and away from danger. Yesenia could not describe how terrifying it was to see her daughter standing so close to a creature she had heard terrifying stories about.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” Yesenia whispered as she held her daughter tightly. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if K’uk’ulkan had taken Maritza with him into the ocean. There were stories of that happening before. Yesenia never really believed in K’uk’ulkan. Not since she was a little girl, but he became real the second she saw Maritza standing so close to him.

He was no longer a thing of tall tales and legends.

He was real.

“You’re going to be grounded for a very long time,” Tony told his daughter as they packed their things the next day. Yesenia demanded that they leave at once. She was spooked after their encounter with K’uk’ulkan…or Namor as others called him. Tony didn’t know why she wanted to leave so suddenly but figured she must’ve gotten into another argument with her mother. It was no secret that the mother and daughter duo didn’t get along very well.

“That means no video games, no Legos, no TV, and no ice cream,” Tony lectured her which was out of character for him. Usually, it was Yesenia who was the disciplinarian but Yesenia had been strangely silent ever since the sight before after returning to the house with her mother and Maritza.

“No ice cream?” Maritza whined, not liking the sound of that. Tony nodded.

“Yes, well you should’ve thought of that before you went out alone last night looking for the chicken man,” Tony told her sternly and Maritza grew quiet again at the mention of K’uk’ulkan. She normally would’ve corrected him about the name, but her mother had scared her into never mentioning the pointy eared man she saw the night before. Her mother paused in packing the clothes at the mention of K’uk’ulkan. Or Namor as her mother and grandmother insisted on calling him now during the hushed whispers, she heard on the way back to the house from the beach.

“When’s the flight?” Yesenia asked quietly and Tony turned his gaze away from his daughter to look at his girlfriend.

“Eleven…” Tony told her, not knowing why she was acting off. He couldn’t really explain it, but she was unusually quiet and not her bubbly self. “But the plane leaves anytime we want. We could leave sooner if you want.”

“Okay. We’ll leave sooner then,” Yesenia said decidedly before leaving the room to go retrieve their items from the bathroom. Tony stared after her for a second before shrugging it off and returning his attention to Maritza.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tony told her seriously. Her father was not a serious man, but she could tell he was serious this time. He was usually quite humorous. Amused more often than not but it was clear she had scared him. “You don’t know the area well and there’s dangerous people out there. Not to mention the fact that you could’ve drowned. You’re not the strongest swimmer, Ritzy.”

“I know, Daddy,” Maritza said quietly, looking quite ashamed of herself. She was ashamed because she went looking for K’uk’ulkan and now her mother was so spooked that they were leaving Mexico sooner rather than later. Maritza liked it here. It was quiet, sunny, and her father didn’t have a lab to lock himself away in. It was so much different than home. “I’m sorry I left. I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” he told her as he zipped up his suitcase. “You really terrified your mom. I’ve never seen her like this before. Now go grab your stuff from the guest room. Your mom really wants to leave soon.”

“Okay,” she said obediently before trotting off to her room to do as her father instructed.

Maritza passed by the bathroom as she was leaving. She noticed her mother hunched over the sink, eyes squeezed closed and fingers gripping a rosary tightly in her hand. Vague whispers came from her mother’s mouth. Maritza recognized enough Spanish to know her mother was saying some sort of prayer.

It spooked Maritza.

Maritza had never seen her mother like that before. She never really thought of her mother as religious, and her father definitely wasn’t religious at all. Maritza knew her grandmother was but never her mother.

Maritza quickly moved past the bathroom and headed to the guest room. The sight of her mother lost in prayer somehow more terrifying than the encounter the night before.

She didn’t understand it.

Why her mother and grandmother were so scared. Yes, K’uk’ulkan was different but there was nothing scary about him. No fangs, claws, or horns. He was just different and what was so scary about that? Maritza wasn’t even sure if he really ate children like the legends said. Not that she knew what someone who ate children looked like, but it definitely wasn’t K’uk’ulkan.

They acted like he was evil…but he didn’t seem evil.

He seemed normal.

“Maritza,” Maritza’s grandmother said as she walked into the guest room, breaking Maritza out of her thoughts. Palmira closed the door behind herself quietly. Maritza glanced up at her. “I need to give you something before you leave.”

“What is it, Abuela?” Maritza asked curiously as her grandmother sat next to her on the bed. Her grandmother grabbed her hand and placed something cold and metallic in it. Maritza glanced down.

“This was my grandmother’s,” Palmira said, and it was a silver cross pendant with a blue gem in the center. “She gave it to me when I was your age and now, I’m giving it to you.”

“It’s so pretty. Especially this,” Maritza said, admiring the blue gem in the middle.

“It’s aquamarine,” Her grandmother informed her. “There used to be an old legend that said aquamarine was taken from the treasure of mermaids to protect sailors from the sea. It’s also said to protect the wearer from evil spirits and demons.”

Maritza knew this was about K’uk’ulkan. She wanted to tell her grandmother that he wasn’t evil, and everything was fine, but she knew her grandmother and mother didn’t believe that.

“My grandmother grew up in a different time in this small town,” Her grandmother explained, a faraway look in her eyes. “A time when the men of this town started hunting the creature from the sea. The one who made boats vanish. The creature they called Namor. There were those that thought of him as a god…K’uk’ulkan but my grandmother only knew him as the devil. A lot of those men disappeared as a result. Including my great-grandfather.”

Palmira swallowed hard before locking eyes with her granddaughter. Maritza was so young and innocent that she couldn’t understand the gravity of what occurred the night before.

“Promise me that you will wear this necklace and never take it off,” Palmira told her seriously. “I fear that you’re cursed now that you’ve come face to face with the devil. The necklace may be your only protection from him.”

“But-“ Maritza started to say but her grandmother cut her off with a stern look.

“Promise me, Maritza,” Her grandmother demanded, and Maritza sighed before relenting. She nodded and her grandmother took the necklace from her hand, immediately putting it on her. Maritza obeyed her grandmother without another word. “Never take it off. There are not many that have seen the devil of the sea and lived. Your ancestors didn’t.”

“I promise I won’t take it off,” Maritza said honestly and her grandmother seemed satisfied with that. She glanced down at the necklace, examining the pendant. It was beautiful but Maritza was left even more confused about why it was needed.

Some sort of protection against someone her grandmother was convinced was the devil.

Was K’uk’ulkan really the devil?

Maritza felt like a person would know if they came face to face with the devil, but she honestly didn’t know. She pictured something red with horns and a tail to be the devil. Something cartoonish and terrifying but that wasn’t K’uk’ulkan. He didn’t look like how she pictured the devil to look like.

If anything, she was more confused than before. Maritza had come face to face with something her mother and grandmother were convinced was evil. She just wasn’t sure.

But her mother was.

A couple days after they returned to California, and Maritza’s father was back in the lab, her mother drove her to an old building almost two hours away. Her mother told her it was called a Botánica. Some sort of store that was different than any store that Maritza had ever seen before. Filled with candles, herbs, and statues of saints. It was some sort of cross between Diagon Alley and the Vatican.

Her mother didn’t explain much to her but the older woman at the front of the store led them to the back to a room that was dark except for an abundance of lit candles and incense. It had been very terrifying, and the woman instructed Maritza to shut her eyes then proceeded to say what sounded like a prayer in Spanish as she rubbed water into Maritza’s skin while Maritza’s mother watched quietly, clutching her rosary tightly in her hand. Water that was mixed with herbs as Maritza’s skin had a very odd scent afterwards. A scent that would be forever etched into Maritza’s mind.

It was a spiritual cleansing which Maritza found out years later as she described the memory to a friend of hers who’s parents were from Honduras.

The cleansing went on for a short while, but it might’ve as well have been years. Maritza remembered being terrified as the woman spoke in hurried Spanish and harshly rubbed the herbal water into her skin before running some sort of broom over her body. It ended with one last prayer and with seven-year-old Maritza with her tear-stained cheeks as her mother led her out of Botánica.

Her mother didn’t say anything on the drive back.

They both sat in silence in the car for the long car ride home.

With the cleansing, the topic of K’uk’ulkan was put to rest and never to be mentioned or referred to again. With time, Maritza would rationalize the encounter with the pointy eared man from the sea with wings on his ankles as not real. Just the exaggerative imagination of an only child which Maritza was.

The encounter became forgotten, anyways.

A few months after the summer spent in her mother’s native country, her mother died. An unexpected, tragic death that sent the small Stark family reeling and left Maritza without a mother. The time spent in Mexico became only a highlight for the summer spent as a family having fun before everything went to shit and the Starks’ entire world was turned upside down.

The necklace and cleansing had been intended to put K’uk’ulkan to rest. Yesenia’s death buried the matter entirely. Yet some things had a way of coming back to the surface.

Even if they were seemingly forgotten.

Translations:

Diablo(Devil)

Aléjate de ella! No la toques!(Get away from her! Don’t touch her!)

Tu maldad no puede tocar a alguien con un alma pura, Namor. No puedes quitarle su alma. Aléjate, Namor. (Your wickedness cannot touch someone with a pure soul, Namor. You can’t take away her soul. Get away, Namor.)

#namor x latina!oc #namor x oc #tenoch huerta namor #namor x reader #namor #namor fanfiction #stark oc #latina oc #SoundCloud

[caecilius-in-horto-ubi-sedebit]

So I watched Wednesday a while ago, and I've been rolling some feeling around ever since that I feel I should spit out here for some closure. Obvi spoilers if you want to watch the show.

Wednesday Addams is Latina. Cool, awesome, good. The villains of the show are descendants of Pilgrims. Here's where my feelings start souring. The show is set in Jericho, Vermont. That's important. The entire main conflict is a land dispute, between the Addams family, and the Crackstone family. It's explicitly stated that the Addamses came up from Mexico, settled in Jericho, and consider it theirs. Crackstone's family came over with the Pilgrims (I grew up in the Plymouth area, so the historical inaccuracy hurts me, but that doesn't really matter here so much as that he is a white colonizer from England), settled in Jericho, and eventually locked all the outcasts from Mexico in a building and burned them alive. Horrible man, obviously.

Here's my problem. Mexicans have indigenous lands. In Mexico. They have land that is integral to their heritage. It's not in Vermont. Vermont land is Abenaki land. It belongs to the Abenaki people, always has, always will. Not once are the Abenaki represented. Wednesday makes snide comments about Pilgrim World and how the settlers did their level best (and continue to do their level best) to genocide native people off the face of the continent. But nowhere are there Abenaki people, saying "This is our land, we're still here, we need to be recognized, Land Back."

Vermont is a beautiful state, with a rich history. The Abenaki people are a strong, proud people, with a rich culture, a history, and the Western Abenaki language is still spoken to an extent, with strong attempts being made to revitalize the language. I have Abenaki heritage, which I am looking into reconnecting with, but I didn't grow up in the culture, and my family has been disconnected for a while, so maybe I'm reading this wrong. But I can't help but feel cheated. If the main conflict hadn't been a land dispute, I might not feel so euch about it, but they made it a land dispute, with Crackstone openly trying to kill any outcasts in the school, and the antagonist Laurel straight up stating that she wants "her land" back. But nary an Abenaki, Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, nor Penobscot face in sight. And certainly no real mention that indigenous peoples still inhabit their lands to this very day. It just really pissed me off.

#wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday netflix #abenaki #wabanaki #wednesday critical #indigenous media

[ahungeringknife]

Cursebreaker

March 14

I remember almost writing this with Altair and Malik before going 'fuck that I want Lucy to be a badass she deserves it'. Because she fucking does

Prompt from @deepwaterwritingprompts specifically this one

----

There were always rumors when it came to arcane tattooists. That they were cursed, that the ink was made with blood or the ichor of some beast, that you had to sell your soul to get one done. They weren't common either. Technically they didn't exist. If you wanted one you needed to go deep underground.

Desmond needed one. He'd spent about a year getting to know the right people and making the right friends that finally landed him a consultation with an arcane tattooist. He was surprised the shop was just... out in the open. On a normal street in the city. The sign said 'Rose Point Tattoos' in classic spiked calligraphy. Inside it was clean and well lit but there was a wall blocking the studio from the outside where a receptionist was. The wall behind the desk was covered in art. It was beautiful. Every piece was meticulous and intricate and while the receptionist was on the phone Desmond marveled at them. Finally she hung up.

"Can I help you?" she asked him cheerfully.

"Yeah. I have a consultation appointment with Stillman?" he asked.

She eyed him carefully but smiled still. "Of course. Let me tell her you're here," and she got up from the desk. Her? Now that he thought about it no one mentioned if Stillman was a man or not he just-- well he'd just sort of assumed. He waited looking at the art for a minute or so before the receptionist came back and said he could follow her. He did so and followed her through an open doorway into the studio.

The studio was nicely decorated without being overbearing and looked nothing like a traditional tattoo parlor. The tile had a subtle magic circle inlayed on the floor in mosaic tile and there were no mirrors or windows in the place. It smelled pleasant and the lights were bright. A man was bent over someone on a chair tattooing an intricate all runic text back piece with a tattoo gun who's head was a snake.

Stillman was not what Desmond expected at all. She was a small blonde woman with blue eyes, a serious but kind face and no visible tattoos. She smiled when the receptionist brought Desmond over and stood up to shake Desmond's hand at her work station. "Mr. Miles, on time. I appreciate it," she said.

"Desmond's fine," he said.

"What can I help you with?" she asked. He glanced over at the man giving the runic tattoo, "Don't worry about Shaun, he's a quiet sort," she assured him.

Desmond still hesitated a moment before he took off his hoodie and rolled up the sleeve on his left arm. "I was told you can break curses," he said and showed her the curse marked on his lower forearm. It was, effectively a tattoo, or more like a birth mark. Everyone in his family for the past four generations had been cursed with this mark on their arms.

"Oh my," she reached out and touched his arm lightly. As she did he felt her magic touch against the curse on his arm. After a moment she looked up at him with keen blue eyes, "How'd you get cursed like this?" she asked him.

"Born with it. Generational curse," he said stoically.

"This is some serious work. Your ancestor must have really pissed someone off." He made a soft noise and she looked gave him a look. "What exactly did your ancestor piss off?" she asked. He made a non committed groan. "If it's serious I'll need to know or regular curse breaking won't work," she said.

He sighed. "From what I understand it was a demi god," he said. "Some kid of an Aztec god and a mortal from my mom's side who came from Mexico."

Stillman's eyes were wide. "Oh. Oh dear," she said sympathetically. "Central American gods are especially fickle," and she sat down and pulled out a book that was more a spell book as much as it was a design example book. She flipped through it and then showed Desmond a tattoo. "It'll look like this when we're through," she said and showed him a gnarly looking half sleeve tattoo.

"Okay. It'll break the curse?"

"Yes. But it's a serious curse. This is going to be expensive."

"I figured. I know the ink needed for curse breaking is... not easy to come by." From what he'd read only the blood of a death apparition could break this curse. The curse itself dealt with death so to break it you needed to counteract it with another bit of death.

"Don't worry. Nothing I haven't dealt with," she said cheerfully.

"... You're going to go get it?" Desmond asked.

"Sure. So long as you can pay."

"I can," he nodded but was having trouble believing her. Stillman was saying she was going to go kill an avatar of death, a grim reaper, to make the ink for his tattoo, and she didn't even seem bothered!

"Okay. Rebbecca will schedule your appointment so talk to her on your way out," Stillman said taking out her phone to text the receptionist. "She'll tell you when you should come back."

"Okay," Desmond said slowly.

"Shaun," Stillman called to the other man in the parlor.

"What? I'm busy," he growled.

"We're going reaping," she said simply.

He lifted his gun but didn't look at them. He just sighed, "Of course we are. Great. Just great," and he dipped the tip of the gun into ink at his side and went back to the intricate rune work on the man's back.

Stillman got up and shook Desmond's hand again. "I'll see you in a week or so, Desmond. Don't worry, we'll take care of that curse," she said.

"Thanks," he said but wasn't sure he should be. Was this small woman and her tattoo partner actually going to go out and kill a reaper for his tattoo? Holy shit. That was so insanely dangerous. But he said goodbye and went to talk to the receptionist. She set his appointment up for two weeks from today and bid him goodbye. When he stepped out of the parlor he looked back at it. "Huh," he said. Where the parlor had been was an abandoned store front, paper covering the windows on the inside. Guess he'd find it again when it was his appointment.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #assassin's creed #desmond miles #lucy stillman #shaun hastings

[wannabedjs]

2003 was an eventful year...Went on a reality tv show ("Anything for Love") which never aired, studies abroad in Guadalajara Mexico, visted Mexico City, and Cuba . A key new chapter in my life. Fairly quickly after starting my job at UCH in 1998 it became quite evident that there was a disconnect between the providers/staff who only spoke English and the sizable patient population that only spoke Spanish. The sole translator was Dr. Michel Choncol, a renal fellow from Venezuela. I've always felt that the monolingual culture of the USA was a disadvantage. Having only taken a couple Spanish classes in high school, I had near zero Spanish skills. I decided to start the process to learn spanish. Taking classes a couple times a week at Colorado Free University and then enrolling at CU Denver into classess for no credit. Over a period of 3-4 years I advanced my spanish vocabulary to hold simple conversations. I knew if I wanted to accelerate my learning I needed to have a dedicated period of immersion. I'd been talking about this plan for a number of months, so when I proposed the idea of taking a 2 month immersive 'sabbatical' in Mexico to my boss and coworker, it was received with support. As a student at CU Denver I was able to enroll in an study abroad program down to Guadalajara, Mexico. Guadalajara is the LA of Mexico (Mexico city being the NYC) and is located in the state of Jalisco (home of tequila, puerto vallarta, mariachi music, and dozens of large scale murals). I lived with a family that had 2 other 'renters" in their central Gudalajara home. One of the other renters was a Japanese guy who didn't speak English and worked as a sushi chef and was a lucha libre on the side.

Wonderful experience as I learned more in 6 weeks of class than I did in the previous 3-4 years of classroom studies in Denver. (The key was not hanging out with the other native English speakers, most of whom were from England. The movie, Y tu mama tambien, had a sizable impact on most of them wanting to learn Spanish). I regularly hung out with the family's young 20ish old daughter and her boyfriend, Diego, who I was pretty sure was part of the cartel. He owned a couple "bars" which were just fields of land where they served cheap beer and had hip hop music. He even had a young dog named "Sixty" (for 69..yep. no lie).

Weekend trips included a memorable evening in a cemetery in Michoacan for noche de muertos. Straight out of Coco.

I had 2 weeks at the end open for travel and full immersion traveling to Spanish speaking cities. Half way thru my time in Guadalajara, I started planning an excursion to Mexico City then Cuba. Mexico City was as lively as advertised and my prep for Cuba seemed rather simple. No US banks in Cuba and they accepted cold hard cash from the USA.

So entering Havana with enough cash to make it for a week vacation in Havana and the beach town Varadero. Loved Havana and a highlight was walking up to the Interior Ministry government building thinking it was maybe some fancy hotel. It has a massive Che Guevera face on the outside with the tag line "Hasta Victoria Siempre." Now I should have researched the area where I was at, but looking over at the building I thought it said "Hotel Victoria Siempre.'....common mistake...one that you realize quickly as you begin walking toward it and fully armed military guards start walking towards you telling you to leave. I was like "Bet!" and high tailed it for some mojitos and grub far away from the plaza.

Varadero is the old Copa Cabana area. Like Vegas, but frozen in the 1960s. Massive hotels (previously casinos) just vacant. I was staying at an all inclusive type hotel with beautiful beaches with many european tourists. Most were topless which made it very difficult to read on the beach. One of the nights the hotel arranged for everyone to go to a nightclub which was all you can drink (For like 20 bucks) and had a full on cuban band with dancers. Kind of like an old supper club, but without food. It was fantastic, the 10+ piece band threw down cuban salsa/conga for hours. Towards the end of the show they invited the crown onto the large stage to dance. So here we are just getting down on the stage (the Italian gals with tops on just didn't look the same..hahaha) and they show ends at like 10ish. Within minutes of them stopping the place goes straight US hip hop club. With the 1st song being "In Da Club"...a very current song at the time.

If that wasn't memorable enough, I had everything planned. for the last 24 hours of my trip. Bus trip to the airport in Havana was scheduled and and I decided to spend the rest of the cash I had on gifts. Cigars, t shirts, foods, random wooden statues, etc. So I get to the airport and check in my bags with plenty of time before take off. As I approach the customs check point, I see that there is a $25 departure fee to leave the country. Again cash only. Problem was I only had like 5 bucks. Now I like to believe I'm relatively calm and collected when it comes to stressful situations. I find it rare that you end up in situation without a solution. Well, this was one of those situations . I had a moment where I was like "Fuck, I don't have a clue how I can make this work?" Then the master plan hit. The Cuban embargo that has kept the country frozen in time circa 1960 also has kept technology away. Common electronics are extremely expensive. SOOOO. I take out my yellow sony-disc man and walk around the airport waving it saying "se vende! Se Vende!" It took a good 30 min, but a dude came up with $20 and I sold him the discman...which got me out of the country. I still have the flight ticket with the PAGO $25 stamp on it.

2003 - peak meet me in the basement rock n roll

The comeback after the post grunge rock-rap (see Woodstock 99) boy band era. Was it all post 9/11?

Elefante, white stripes, broken social scene, strokes, TV on the radio

But also an electro-rock-punk scene w the rapture

No need to listen to- GREATS

OutKast: Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (Arista)

The White Stripes: Elephant (V2)

Radiohead: Hail to the Thief (Capitol) - saw at red rocks

BSS- you forgot it in people

Basement Jaxx: Kish Kash

Postal service- give up

Yo la tango

Belle and sebastian -dear catastrophe

RH factor - hard groove

Erykah badu - world wide

50 cent - get rich or die trying

Sandra Collins - march essential mix w pete tong from Miami winter music fest

Revisits and new finds

Four tet - rounds

- his debut (?) and maybe my fav. Less Asian/Indian influenced

Caribou- up In Flames.

early release with few great tracks.

Elefante - loved them back it 03 and still solid 2000 era rock n roll

Strokes - room on fire. Just the same music as this is it..but who cares? It’s great!

Rapture- Echos. an early release of the budding electro-punk-rock-dance scene (mainly from NYC). 2-3 banging tracks

Tv on the radio- young liars EP 1st

Audio bullys- ego war. Can’t believe this didn’t get on best of lists. A blend of house, punk, British hip hop, and beats. We Don’t Care is one of best tracks of the year.

Decemberists - her majesty. Still catchy and an enjoyable listen. Very 03-y

M83 - really out there with full synths, but a couple tracks which lead to his take off w “Dreaming” almost a decade later

Pernice brothers- these guys! Discovery of the week. Indie/folk/country rocky with a coolness and sincerity . Lyrically stellar

Massive attack 100th window

Death cab- transatlanticism

- was a late comer to DCFC and really didn’t listen to this record til 08ish. Can see why they have a large loyal fan base. My question, ya think they’ve made more money off tv shows and movies that have their music than off their records? Last song end like the 1st begins . So can start anywhere and the album flows if on repeat

New Pornographers: Electric Version (Matador)- catchy pop-indie rock. I probably would have been really into them had I given this record a couple listens back in 03

Massive attack - 100th Window. The OGs of trip hop! F/u to mezzanine from 98’. That alone made this a must listen to. Still their signature sound that resonates through me the same as in 03’. A truly night record. Not many of those in 03

Randomness

Wrens - pitchfork #1. Not good

Jeff Buckley - live at sin e rerelease as 2 CD set. He will always be a part of my musical journey. Maybe the largest part w regards to memories over years and stories

- NYC house of neon(?) during interview for job at montefore

- house sitting for Bud Carlsen (a subconscious influence to me going to CO). and making late night pancakes listening to his music

- late night music!

- heading to Memphis to search for his body with Angela Angstman and Allison

Lots of great music I didn’t get to…

Bad plus

Arab stap

Mad lib invaded blue note

British sea power

Cursive

Ted Leo and pharmacists

Jay z black album

The neptunes - clones

Constantine’s

Memomena

My morning jacket

Kings of Leon

Mogwai- happy songs for happy peeps

Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell (Interscope)

The Shins: Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop)

Lefty deceiver

PK

#year in music #pkpickles #2003

[evita-shelby]

The Dinner Date

Modern au!tommy x eva ,takes place in 2019

My 100th tommy x eva one shot

Thanks @moral-terpitude for the idea of making it a modern au

Cw:mentions of the brexit protests in the uk and the nationwide protests and subsequent riots in mexico after mexico city police sexually assauleted two little girls

Gif by @compassgenius

“So, you’re serious about her?” Ada asked looking over his shoulder before he stopped her from reading the messages.

He had been serious about Grace only to get burned. Tommy was hoping things with Eva will be better.

“I am. Which is why I want to make sure she is peer reviewed before I really commit.” Tommy knew his family already knew Eva and had befriended her, he just needed to see that it wasn’t that fake shit Grace had pulled off for almost a year.

“How about a double date with me and Freddie? If she’s serious she’ll survive it and if she isn’t, well you have an excuse to break up with her.” Ada suggests, as if it had worked last time.

“It sounds like a bad idea, little sister.” Tommy tries to shoot down the idea.

But it could work.

Grace had tried to have Freddie arrested for… well being himself after going out for drinks with them.

Greta had liked Freddie; in fact, they had met at some protest he invited them to.

And while he knew his new girlfriend was just as political as Greta, Tommy needed for her to not be a pearl clutching Tory.

Nor a narc who had even made a tindr to make sure she’d get his attention.

“Fine, how about this Friday evening. That one we went with Polly last month.” He relents.

The more elegant the restaurant the less likely there would be a problem.

“I’ll tell Freddie to his worse.” His sister smiled rather deviously.

“Have you seen the protests lately? It seems we might actually get shit done.” It is done on purpose; Ada has brought up almost every topic they could disagree on and Eva has passed with flying colors.

Now came the final one.

They are having dessert, if Eva survived the politics question, Tommy would marry her on the spot.

“As if that could get them off their arse,” Freddie scoffs.

“It does work, if you get them all to organize and vote for people who are willing to put in the work. I mean we voted out Peña Nieto and my country is just a few more assassinations away from being a total narco-state.” Eva cut her crème caramel with her fork.

“Yeah, sure, but that’s Mexico, here you can have all of the UK show up it’s not going to stop Parliament from voting yes for Brexit.” Freddie answers just as they had expected.

His friend was as socialist as they came, but he had as much faith in the system as Tommy had faith in the Christian God.

“Well then make yourself impossible to ignore and if they continue to ignore you then take justice in your hands.

You heard about the protests in my country, we we riot nationwide when policemen rape little girls and make the world fucking see there'sstrength in numbers. If it had been us, we wouldn’t have let the Big Ben unscathed or Buckingham Palace untagged.” Eva surprises them, usually a strong believer of reform and democracy, she apparently was pro-rioting.

“Says the one who ran away like a fucking coward.” Thorne makes the mistake of assuming the pretty rich girl in front of him is as harmless as she looks.

Eva may try to avoid violence and had the patience of a saint most of the time, but everyone has a tipping point.

Freddie had just found it.

Tommy barely managed to pull his girlfriend away just as she landed the first punch on Freddie’s right eye.

“Take that back, Thorne.” She snarled as Tommy did his best to keep her still.

“I fucking won’t, people like you can say they fight for the same thing as us but when things get hard you lot run away in your private jets. Just like you did.” Freddie held his glass to his eye and sat back.

She lunged again and this time security comes to put a stop to it.

---

“I told you it was a bad idea.” Tommy told his sister as they split the bill while Freddie and Eva waited in their cars.

“I know and we’re never doing this again.” Ada agreed. “We’re fucking lucky they didn’t call the police on them.”

“Brunch tomorrow?” he asked his sister who only nodded.

He is not surprised to have Eva apologize to him for ruining the date.

“Shouldn’t have let him get to me, Tom. I know he’s your friend and Ada’s husband, but its better if we don’t try this again.” The witch said surprising him.

“Again?” he had assumed she’d end things after a date like this.

“Despite what your oh so charming brother-in-law says, I am no quitter, Shelby.”

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #oc fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #100th one shot fuck yeah

[usafphantom2]

SR-71 RSO’s daughter tells the story of when her father became the first USAF officer to eject from a Blackbird Mach 3+ Spy Plane

By Linda Sheffield Miller

Apr 25 2022

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On Apr. 13, 1967, my father, Richard ‘Butch’ Sheffield became the first Air Force officer to eject from an SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3+ spy plane.

The SR-71 Blackbird ejection seat was the SR-1, a Lockheed Design that was not much different from the Stanley designed Lockheed C-2 (later modified into the S/R-2) seat which preceded it in other aircraft (the C-2 seatwas used in the very early A-12s and SR-71 Blackbirds). According to The Ejection Site, some of the differences between the C-2 and the SR-1 seat included the omission of the leg guards and arm restraint nets which were used on the C-2.

Due to a fatality that occurred early in the SR-71 program where a crewman was killed when his helmet impacted the headrest of the seat during a structural breakup, some of the C-2 seats were equipped with a headrest extender to more closely fit the seat to the crewman.

SR-71 RSO’s daughter tells the story of when his father became the first USAF officer to eject from a Blackbird Mach 3+ Spy Plane

SR-1 Ejection Seat

On Apr. 13, 1967, my father, Reconnaissance Systems Officer (RSO) Richard ‘Butch’ Sheffield became the first US Air Force (USAF) officer to eject from an SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3+ spy plane.

Earl Boone was the second.

It was a night training mission. Takeoff was at 7:30 PM, the SR-71 #966 had less than 50 hours on her, the total flight time from takeoff till impact was one hour and 23 minutes.

SR-71 RSO tells the story of when he and his pilot were able to land their crippled Blackbird after it experienced a catastrophic engine failure while flying at Mach 2.88 at 68,000 feet

Butch Sheffield Pre- flight

Shortly after refueling, the SR pitched up and then down and did two cartwheels. It was at this time that Earl Boone ordered my father to get out! He pulled the ejection ring when the airplane was inverted and on fire. Dad said as he was floating down from 20,000 feet, he saw the airplane breaking in half, exploding and falling to the ground. The crashsite was Las Vegas, New Mexico.

Captain Sheffield was found by a helicopter. He told me that the helicopter almost landed directly on him. He grabbed his radio and yelled “don’t land on me” . He was unable to move; his pressure suit was so full of gravel from being a drug by the parachute after he hit the ground. Maj. Earl Boone walked back to the crash site 9 to15 hours after the accident. He told my mother that he walked all night because he just couldn’t face her. He thought my father had died.

SR-71 print

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird 61-7972 “Skunkworks”

The next night I watched the national news and heard Walter Cronkite saying that my Dad had been found alive in New Mexico after his spy plane had crashed then showed a picture of him. It dawned on me that maybe, my family wasn’t living a normal life. This was a terrifying incident for my entire family. And for the Boone family too.

Earle Boone was an excellent pilot and did not cause the accident, he did choose to leave the Air Force.

My Dad, Richard ‘Butch’ Sheffield took six weeks off to recover and then resumed his job. He hated being grounded and couldn’t wait to fly again.

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Facebook Page Habubrats for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

Photo credit: Linda Sheffield Miller, The Ejection Site and NASA

[gallavich-headcanon]

I don’t know that Mickey had direct info on El Chapo honestly (I think he’d already been recaptured at that point) but I do think Mickey had info on how the cartel works and who’s who inside it. Mickey’s smart, a lot smarter then the show sometimes gave him credit for imo, but it’s a practical, survival based, kind of street smarts. Over the show we see Mickey being really observant and quick on his feet in terms of adapting to situations. Add in being raised in what was basically the Milkovich crime family and I bet he got a pretty good lay of the land just by keeping his eyes and ears open. We know he can be good with people who aren’t Ian when he wants to be (conned a guard to break out of jail) and he was a gay kid living in Terry Milkovich’s house for most of his life so I could see him making a kind of mental map of the cartel’s structure just from gossip and reading people. Gotta admit, my first watch through of the groomzilla episodes, I was really expecting Mickey to reveal that it was mostly just a play to get Terry locked up for hate crimes by making it impossible to ignore. I do still wonder what a interesting storyline it would have been if Mickey wasn’t at least partly still an informant after they got out and that was why he kept working with Terry and wasn’t worried about getting a job. It would have made more sense to me but oh well. I also wanted them to get married at the baseball field bc it was their spot! 🦖

Hello again 🦖 anon! Your asks are always fun!

Mickey’s smart, a lot smarter then the show sometimes gave him credit for imo, but it’s a practical, survival based, kind of street smarts. -> I couldn't agree more!!! We got a few examples in canon- he's great at running business and problem solving (and math). I think he realized pretty quick how things work there, and as always used the way people underestimate him for his advantage.

This got me thinking about how Mickey got a female guard to fall in love with him and help him and Damon escape prison. Like the amount of planning and manipulation a person needs for that. Especially as a gay person that was never in a relationship with a woman, but somehow managed to woo that guard.

If I remember correctly Mickey mentions the Sinaloa cartel in 10x12 talking about Terry handing them over to child services for a year so Terry could work for them (?) so maybe he got a lot of info as a kid and hoped some of it would turn the cartel on Terry.

I wonder how much Terry knew about what Mickey did. in s9 Terry tells Ian that Mickey is in Mexico. And there's no way Mickey picked this cartel randomly. Did Terry ever find out Mickey was a snitch? Mickey was helping him move guns and shit in s10, so he must have trusted him enough. What do you think?

The groomzilla episodes -to get Terry locked up for hate crimes -> that's such an interesting plot line! I was also a bit suspicious about it at first! I was kind of waiting to see what happens with the whole idea of recording the wedding and tying Terry to a chair to make him watch it... but nothing happened.

I got to say I would have love to get to see Mickey take Terry down by helping the police but I feel like he's too into the southside rules (Don't snitch, unless it's in order to reunite with the love of your life) to be a police informant.

Oh I wish they got married at the dugouts!!! Unfortunately according to Ian it was the winter and 40 degrees and suppose to snow... I wish they did something there, maybe the proposal or I don't know, them sitting there planning the wedding.

#🦖 anon #my thoughts #gallavich headcanons #shameless meta #shameless #asks #my headcanons

[jungle-angel]

Out in the Middle: Part 9

Summary: The old ways are strong with this one

Notes: So I did a little bit of research into what the Indian Relay Races are and watched video footage, if you guys wanna see how crazy this gets, let me know and I’ll edit this with a link to some footage

Music/Soundtrack piece: “Tryouts” by Jerry Goldsmith (from the film “Rudy”)

Tagging: @tallrock35​ and anybody else who loves this series

Wes bit his lip nervously, his leg restless as ever and the anxiety creeping into the back of his head. It was only the second day of the rodeo and already he was twitchier than a rabbit during mating season. 

“I can’t do it,” he said. 

“Wes.....” Rhett said, almost as though he was warning him. 

“Do you not understand the words that are coming outta my mouth?!” Wes questioned.  

“I understand alright,” Rhett retorted. “But I’m sparin myself a lifetime of your bitchin and moanin if ya’ll don’t commit.” 

“Oh, making commitment jokes now are we?” 

“Hush your mouth dumbass,” Rhett told him. “That there’s a one hundred and fifty thousand dollar cash prize, enough for ya’ll to build your mom and dad a spare house and repair the existing one. So what’s it gonna be?” 

Wes gritted his teeth and placed his hands on Rhett’s shoulders. “You always knew how to talk people into doing stupid shit,” he muttered. 

Rhett gave him a naughty little cackle before the two of them knocked heads, shook hands and spat in the dirt for good luck. “You’re gonna do fine,” Rhett assured him. “(Y’n), Nora and the rest of us’ll be watchin in the stands. Just promise if ya’ll get kicked by the horse you wan’t go cross-eyed.” 

“Bruh, I make no such promises,” Wes laughed. 

The call to ready the horses was made and Rhett left Wes to tend to his horse and the rest of his team. Deep down, he was nervous as hell for his best friend, but Wes had years and years of horse riding experience under his belt, to say nothing of the fact that years of generational and historical roots that ran as deep as the Yellowstone River. 

He met you in the stands, not fifteen minutes later with all the kids and the rest of the family close by to watch. “He good?” you asked as Frankie crawled into your lap. 

“Nervous as hell but I don’t blame him,” Rhett answered.  

“He’ll do fine,” you assured him. “Wes knows what he’s doing.” 

Rhett put his arm around you and drew you close, just happy to have you and the others around to support his best friend. 

The voice of the MC announced the entrance of Wes’s team into the ring, the crowd cheering them on as he read off the names and where they were all from, your voices joining in with theirs. 

Down in the ring, Wes and the rest of the team lined up, all of them burning with the anticipation of the race to start. They had come from all over the US, from the Dakotas, the Plains and from the Navajo lands in Arizona and New Mexico, all of them hoping to compete and show their skills. His horse scratched the dirt with his hoof, snorting with nervous anticipation. 

“Nervous Wes?” Casey Begay asked him. 

“You have no fuckin clue,” Wes answered. 

“We’ll do fine,” Casey told him. “Just hang on and don’t let go no matter what.”

Wes nodded and took a deep breath. “Alright Red,” he said to the horse, gripping the reigns a little tighter. “It’s just you and me bud.” 

The sound of the horn and they were off, the competitors thundering across the dirt, each one trying to get ahead of the other. The hoofbeats of the horses were deafening as they rode on, clouds of red-brown dust kicking up all around them like a dusty fire. Wes rode well ahead of the other competitors, coming back across the line and jumping onto the back of another horse as quick as he could, his teammates close behind him......

“And well in the lead comes Wes Redwood of Wabang, Wyoming, Casey Begay of Santa Fe, New Mexico and James Blue Thunder of Pine Ridge, South Dakota!!!” The MC announced. 

Up in the stands, you, Rhett, the kids and the whole family cheered the team on as they kept up in the race, your voices as loud as the riders. Barely anyone could be heard over the roar of the crowds and the thundering horses, let alone what the commentators were saying. 

“Look!! Look!!! Here comes Wes!!!” 

The entire crowd seemed to stand, you and Rhett along with the kids and your families, your nerves on their last edge, waiting to see who would cross the finish line first......

“AND WE HAVE OUR FIRST PLACE WINNERS!!!!! WES REDWOOD, CASEY BEGAY AND JAMES BLUE THUNDER!!!!!!” 

Rhett caught you in his arms and Cecelia caught Nora before the both of you could faint, the cheers growing louder as everyone chanted the names of the victors. 

“You see that?!!” Rhett called out. “THAT’S MY BEST FUCKIN FRIEND OUT THERE AND DON’T ANY O’ YA’LL EVER FORGET IT!!!!!!” 

#outer range #yellowstone #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #wes redwood (oc) #rip wheeler #beth dutton #rip x beth #kayce dutton #monica dutton #kayce x monica #john dutton #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal x cecelia

[boliv-jenta]

When the West Was Wild

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Silva x OFC (no description, a last name is given in later chapters)

Word count:2.1k

Warnings: violence, blood, family death, one smutty line.

Story summary: A women making her own way in the lawless West has her quiet night interrupted by a stranger in need. While helping him she finds a few unmet needs of her own.

Chapter summary: The man at her door is no longer a stranger but how familiar is she willing to let him get?

The first few days passed quite easily. She learned pretty quickly that her guest and Mary had something in common. There are both stubborn as anything. Mary had returned and strapped up his ankle. Two thick pieces of wood framed it, helping him bare his weight. That coupled with the large sturdy stick Thomas had fashioned into a support, helped Silva to get around. They had moved her spare cot into the barn. Silva hobbled over there to sleep. She took him meals and books to read. He can into the house to wash up. It was a nice rountine. On the fourth day he brought her flowers, not the ones that grew on her land, ones from further up the trail. They were neat tidied with some roots. When Mary came over later that day, to change his bandage, he presented her with a bunch too. Apparently, Thomas had been skeptical about Silva's intentions, as if he was trying to charm them. Mary guessed he was just feeling shown up because he hadn't brought her flowers home in a long time.

Within two weeks, Silva began to get around easier. He came over to the cabin for his meals most of the time. The polite small talk gave way to free discussion. They exchanged details of their lives. Silva didn't go into much detail. His parents were from Argentina, he was born in Mexico, he didn't remember living there, he was barley walking when they made the journey North. His sister was born in America, she was much younger than him. The poor soul was only eight when she passed, the flu, his parents were gone too. Silva didn't dwell on it so she didn't press. Her heart ached for his loss.

For his gruffness, Silva was surprisingly sweet. He was an attentive listener. He praised her for surviving out here, for staying when she could have ran back home to her father. The praise made her cheeks burn. It had been a long time since a handsome man had complimented her. Silva was undoubtedly a handsome man, she caught herself admiring him more times than she cared to admit. Their meals together were fast becoming her favourite time of the day. That why she was so upset when he didn't show for dinner one night. Grabbing a lamp and throwing a shawl around her shoulders, she walked out into the chilly night air. A small sigh of relief left her when she saw his shadow moving in the barn. Should she be this attached to a stranger? She pondered that as she made her way to the barn. It only took seconds for him to open the door once she knocked, an apology ready on his lips. "I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

Looking down, she noticed the chisel and mallet in his hands. She made a mental note to have a word with Thomas after he said he had cleared the barn of anything that could be used as a weapon.

"I'll put these away." When he turned back to do so, she saw what he had been working on. In the middle of the old barn sat a large chunk of a cedar. The bottom was untouched it's bark still in place, rising out from the middle of it, rearing up, was a beautifully carved horse.

"You made this? It's stunning. A work of art." Holding the lamp closer she took in all the details. Such skill.

"I hope you don't mind me using the wood. I got a little bored. I thought the work might do my shoulder good. I need to get it moving again."

"Did it?"

"A little, thank you."

"The books weren't to your liking?" She nodded to the untouched stack.

"I wouldn't know. I can't read them."

The man was well spoken, in two languages in fact, it didn't even cross her mind that he mind not be able to read. She really needed to try harder to put herself into other's shoes. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I feel so stupid."

"You are far from stupid. Reading is your passion. You wanted to share it. You're kind to do so." She was glad than he was still putting the tools away so he couldn't see her blush.

"Would you mind if I...nevermind." She suddenly felt more nervous than she had when he woke up in her home and she didn't know if he would try to kill her or not.

Tools neatly away, he turned to her. "Go on?"

"I was just going to ask if you would mind if I read to you. It's silly." She giggled like a young girl. Something she was far from. She was a fully grown woman, that was all to apparent by the heat that grew between her legs when he looked at her like that. Like he was utterly charmed by her.

"It's not silly. I would enjoy that." He smiled, it lit up his face, erasing some of the hardship written on it.

That became their new routine. Dinner and a story by the fire. They started with Alice in Wonderland. She could relate to being a stranger in a strange land. He could relate to Alice's confusion, he felt confused himself. He was well enough to leave, yet he stayed. He knew he shouldn't stay but he couldn't bring himself to leave. The wind whirled outside as he listened to her animated recital of a near nonsensical poem about a boy slaying a creature. Her passion for it was infectious, it made his heart light. The warmth from the fire wrapped around him with her words.

He awoke the next morning to find himself covered with a patchwork quilt. It smelled like her. He breathed deeply as she walked out of her room.

"Good morning. You fell asleep, I didn't want to wake you. I hope you don't mind." She tried to bury her nerves in politeness. Leave her to face life on the frontier herself and she was fine, ask her to look closer at the feelings she had for this man and she was a mess.

"Thank you. That was thoughtful of you." He stood folding the blanket gently.

A knock sounded at the door, peeking out of the curtains, she saw Thomas stood there. For a moment she worried what it looked like, a man in her home when they sun was barely up. Then she realised when she opened the door their would be two men in her home with the sun barely up. Silva could had knocked early just as Thomas was. Silva seemed to read what she was thinking as he smoothed his clothes and hair, trying to look a little less like he'd slept in his clothes here.

"Good morning Thomas. How are you?" She tried to sound bright and breezy again. Thomas only paused for a moment to glance at Silva.

"Mornin'. I was actually looking for Silva. I see now you've already seen him."

Blushing slightly she moved back, allowing Thomas to enter. "I have some deliveries to make. My partner is sick today, you up for giving me a hand? It'll only take a few hours."

"Sure, it's the least I can do." Silva nodded.

"Thank you. Meet me up at my place as soon as you are ready."

With that Thomas was gone, leaving them both in the mild discomfort at being caught in a slightly compromising position.

"I better go." Silva moved stiffly towards the door. "Thank you for allowing me to sleep. I was the best night's sleep I've had in a long while." He left just as quickly as Thomas had.

Once her chores were done, she had a moment in the afternoon to sir and read. Or she would be reading if she wasn't thinking of Silva and his 'best night's sleep in a long time'. The man had been nothing but polite in her company. Mary approved of him, which was no mean feat. The only thing that they had to hold against him, admittedly it was a large one, was the man he killed, in self defence. Which if they were holding that as a high crime, both Mary and Thomas were guilty of it too. She had never gotten any details beyond a man had tried to force himself on Mary, he'd then tried to kill Thomas when he intervened, his body was somewhere in the Mississippi and Mary prayed for their souls every night. Her hearted ached that they had to have that hanging over their heads. They did what they had to, just like Silva.

Before the men returned that evening she'd already decided that, if he wished, she would let sleep in the house. The small room next to hers was only home to her writing desk, it was supposed to be a nursery, when that ship sailed she made herself an office. What happed next only cemented her idea.

When the hour got late and there was not sign of Silva, she headed up the trail to see if Mary had any idea where they were. Breaking through the tree line and rounding the corner of their cabin, she was shocked to see Thomas's wagon was back. The horses were still hitched. Stroking her hand along the mane of the nearest one she looked at the wagon for clues. Nothing seemed out of order. Maybe Silva just got caught up in conversation with Thomas. Walking towards the house a cold shiver crept up her spine. The door was ajar. A shadow breaking the light pouring from it frightened her. Her hand founds it's way to the gun in her apron. She pulled the hammer back readying a round. Silva appeared at the door, his hands in the air as she drew the weapon on him. In the air and covered with blood.

"What happened? Where's Thomas?!" The gun trembled in her hands.

"In here." Thomas called. Lowering the gun, she barged passed Silva. Mary, was all she could think. Tears welled at the sight of Mary, safe and well, tending to a open wound in Thomas's back. "Thomas, what...?" The tears claimed the rest of her words.

"It looks worse than it is." He offered her a reassuring smile as he reached for her hand. "It would've been even worse if it wasn't for Silva here. He saved my life." There was a look of mutual respect shared between them. "I'm okay. Silva get her home safe." He took a log swing from the whiskey bottle in his hand.

"Mary?" She called. Mary walked to them ushered them to the door before whispering "He'll be fine. I'll keep it clean, keep the fever at bay. He doesn't like people seeing him not at his best."

"I'm always at my best." Thomas slurred slightly, the whiskey kicking in. Mary hugged her before shooing them further to the door.

Before Silva stepped out Mary grabbed his arm tightly. "Thank you."

A small smile tugged at his lips, he nodded sharply before stepping out into the night. With the horses safely stabled, they made their way to her cabin. Silva told her the story on the way. She had a feeling he was making it less dramatic for her sake. He told her a man had been laying in wait at the low hills that the road carved through. Once they passed him, he jumped to the wagon. His knife was draw, he sunk it straight into Thomas's back. Before he could wield it again. Silva shot him square in the chest. Stopping the wagon, Silva found the man's horse. He loaded his body back on it and sent the horse off running. Easier than trying to dispose of the body while caring for Thomas. The way Silva was so matter of fact about it all made the ache return to her heart. This all really was just part and parcel of his life. She longed to offer him some softness. Maybe she could start with a soft place to sleep.

"Silva, would you like to sleep in the house again? You could sleep on the Davenport tonight then we could bring your cot in tomorrow?" She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I'd like that. Thank you."

Neither of them spoke about him leaving that night or the night after or for the next few weeks while he helped Thomas while he healed.

Once both Silva and Thomas were feeling string enough, they began fishing and hunting together, catching whatever they could preserve for winter. Silva became just as much a part of Thomas and Mary's life as he was becoming part of her's.

After one longer than planned trip Silva returned on a Friday night. Her favourite night, she had told him. He expected her to be in the modest bathroom when he arrived back. Instead her silhouette floated passed the window. 'Stars of the Summer Night' played softly inside as he approached the cabin. Rolling his heavy shoulders he dropped his bow and arrow by the door he noted his muddy boots, deciding to leave them there too before he joined her inside.

A wide smile spread across her face at the sight of him. These hunting trips with Thomas may be nessecary but he was starting to resent the time they took him away from her. Those smiles when he returned almost made it worth it.

"Do you like music?" She asked as twirled effortlessly around the space. He dress span out, raising the fabric up her legs a little. Her calves were shapely, her skin untouched by the sun was paler, a thin dusting of hair covered them. Her feet were bare. Her toes gracefully pointed as she spun on them.

Before his time with her he was a simple man, content to deal with what was rather than what could be. Lately, he started to look beyond. He noticed the beauty in the everyday. He took more pleasure in the simplest of things. Like the way she said his name. That it itself was the sweetest melody to him. He could dance all night to it.

"I do." He answered simply.

"Do you dance?"

"I have. Not that I was any good at it."

"You don't have to be good to enjoy it. I sound like a dying cat when I sing, I still do it."

Smiling, he couldn't help move closed to her, he was drawn to her more and more with each passing day.

"Would you like to dance?" She asked holding out her hand in a formal invitation.

He rubbed his hands on his well worn jeans, like the act could cleanse him, wash off all the blood, make him worthy of laying his hands on her. Once he raised his hands in front of him, she quickly guided them into place. One in her soft palm the other on her equally soft waist. Shame rose within him as he felt himself harden at the feel of her under his touch. She was beautiful, strong, smart, she deserved more appreciation that just the reaction of his baser instincts. He thought about the books she read to him. The words she explained to him. The elaborate ones that had complex, double meanings, the ones that sounded like a song from her lips. He searched for the one that he had taken a liking to when she told him. Adore. He adored her. He was completely enthralled by her. Another word she had taught him. A flutter pulsed in his chest at the thought that she might have taught him those words because she though he would need them. Or that she might feel them about him.

Shifting his hips to adjust himself, he settled her closer in his arms with still enough room in between to protect her honour and his modesty. Slowly they began to sway to the music. His barely covered toes, in his threadbare socks, occasionally stepping on hers.

Dreams of the summer night!

Tell her, her lover keeps watch!

While in slumbers light

She sleeps, my lady sleeps!

This was a dream to him, her in his arms, humming happily to the music. It'd had been a long time since he felt the pull of love in his chest. The sense that the whole world is fine as long as that person is with you. That was why he was still here, not to repay his debt, he wouldn't, couldn't leave her. Her light shone back on all these years that was alone. Cast out all the shadows so he saw it anew. All the times when having someone by his side would have made his world better. When he had to bury his parents in the same year. Then his little sister the following winter. Through every hardship he had faced. If she were there, if she had been his only love, things would have been so much better for him. He wondered again if she knew how he felt. She had asked him to dance, asked to read to him, to take him on journeys with her favourite stories, was she courting him? Would she be angry if her was bold enough to steal a kiss from her petal soft lips? Would she give herself to it? Let him take his pleasure? Feeling restless in his own skin, he needed an answer. When she looked up at him, eyes full of joy, he looked deep into them. His gaze kept her there, right where he wanted, he could easily close the space between them to press his lips to hers. He began to when..."Hello? Anybody home?" A voice boomed as a loud knock rang out around the cabin.

Both of them stated at the door like it was going to exploded any second. The shrapnel of their lives out there, ripping through their romantic moment in here.

"Go." She whispered. They had planned for this. There was a space behind the shelves in the pantry that he could fit into.

Giving him a moment to get into place she called out "Who is it please?"

"Sheriff Rockwood, Ma'am." Came an imposing voice from beyond the timber.

Her blood ran cold. Steading herself she moved to the door, opening it to find the Sheriff at the door and a deputy, still on his horse, on the trail, just behind her boarder of wild flowers, that the Sheriff's horse was currently grazing.

"Good evening, Sheriff Rockwood. Can I help you?"

"Not particularly. We're just checking the area. Had some trouble round her lately, on the road up there. We followed the trail down, spoke to your neighbours up there. Are you home alone Ma'am?"

She had noticed Silva's boots when she opened the door. It was a good bet Sheriff Rockwood did too. "No, my husband is in the bath. He was out hunting today, he's downright filthy."

"Oh, that's right, with your neighbour?" He pointed back up the trail.

"Yes. We're stocking up for winter." The Sheriff already knew where her 'husband' was today. She definitely had to be wary of this man.

The Sheriff gave another look over her shoulder into the cabin. "Alright then Ma'am. You have a good evening." Wishing him one back, she watch him leave. He was almost off the porch when he stopped. Her heart sank. "Oh and tell your husband to be careful travelling out that way."

"Thank you. I will. Goodnight now." She forced herself to close the door slowly rather than slam it like everything in her told her to. Slam it, shut them all out, run back to Silva, his arms, his waiting lips.

Silva returned from his hiding place a solemn look replaced the inviting from early. His once pouted lips set in a straight line. "We need to talk."

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #silva #silva x f!reader #strange way of life

[starlcts]

(—) ★ spotted!! CARMEN MOLINA on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 30 year old looks like SELENA GOMEZ, but i don’t really see it. while  the REAL ESTATE AGENT / ACTRESS is known for being HUMBLE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be QUIXOTIC i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song LITTLE FREAK BY HARRY STYLES  {she/her / ciswoman}

𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀

carmen's birth was somewhat of an accident . her mother isabella , while on a college spring break trip in cabo, mexico had a one - night stand with santiago , who was staying at the same resort for a bachelor trip . neither was looking for anything serious at that moment , with isabella only being a junior in college and santiago beginning his own business endeavors. the pair exchanged numbers at the end of their respective trips, along with fake promises to keep in touch before they parted ways .

fast forward two months later, and isabella realizes she's pregnant. distraught over the life changing news, she contacts santiago . she never expected him to reach out to her, much less show up at her doorstep in arizona twelve hours later . while the pregnancy certainly hadn't been under ideal circumstances, they both agreed that they would do everything possible to make things work for their baby .

carmen is born seven months later , and her parents couldn't have been more enamored with her . overcome with love for their new little family , they decide to get married a week later . however , the marriage is short lived , as neither had any idea of what they were getting themselves into . they divorce when carmen is two and santiago moves back to mexico , but he is very much determined to still be a part of his daughter's life .

the rest of carmen's childhood goes like this : she spends the school year with her mom in arizona , and leaves for mexico as soon as school lets out for the summer . while it's not the most equal arrangement , it's the most convenient for carmen , especially in terms of creating the most consistency for her childhood .

after graduating high school , carmen decided to move out to los angeles for a change of scenery . she received her real estate license six months later and hit the scene not long after . it was an uphill battle at first , with carmen struggling to get listings and find clients she could trust .

around the time she joined her first real brokerage , she also began auditioning for various tv roles . acting was something she had always been interested in doing , so she figured ' why not ? '

her first big break came when she landed a role in the tv show how to get away with murder . it was her first ever acting gig , and she loved every second of it . the show ended about a year ago and carmen decided to take a break to get back into real estate , something she only did part time while filming the show .

as person , carmen is incredibly kind, something many take for granted. she's the first person who will greet you a party , the one who will remember random details about your life that anyone else might forget . she's the embodiment of sunshine , always smiling . she's very much a people person and loves to spend her time around those she cares about .

but there is an edge to her. the minute someone takes advantage of her or is cruel to her or her family, she snaps. carmen knows her worth and she won’t accept anything less than what she deserves. with that said, she does tend to hold grudges so if someone who wronged her in the past comes looking for forgiveness, it’s unlikely she will give them a second chance. 

she values her independence more than anything. while she loves to surround herself with people, she has always found strength in herself. carmen understands the importance of self love and is slightly selfish in that regard - she will never put anyone before herself.

she really values the connections and people she has met through her decade of living in los angeles . there is currently talks of carmen joining selling sunset as a main cast member . it feels like her career is at a point where it can only go up , which excites her even more for what will come next .

𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑴𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀

laurel castillo in how to get away with murder ( 2016 - 2022 )

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺

ride or die friendship

close friends

people she's sold houses to , could be positive or negative !

frenemies

on / off again relationship

secret relationship

exes

friends with benefits

#hillzintro #𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀 ⠀ ⠀ [ . . . ] ⠀ about.

[mybeingthere]

Forrest Bess, 1911-1977, American painter and maker of theories. 

"I term myself a visionary painter for lack of a better word. I can close my eyes in a dark room and if there is no outside noise or attraction, plus, if there is no conscious effort on my part—then I can see color, lines, patterns, and forms that make up my canvases. I have always copied these arrangements exactly without elaboration." 

Throughout his life as an artist, Forrest Bess strove to invest a personal symbology with meaning, developing a complex visual vocabulary to accompany his obsessive devotion to beliefs and theories that alienated him from the mainstream.

Bess's small paintings are filled with elemental and highly personal images. To Bess, his visions and the resulting paintings came to represent a pictorial language that he believed had universal significance. Along with medical and psychological theories based on his own unguided scholarship, he believed his imagery formed a blueprint for an ideal human state, with the potential to relieve mankind of suffering and death.Born October 5, 1911, in Bay City, Texas, Bess lived his life there in virtual isolation, on a strip of land accessible only by boat.

 "I try to tell myself that only by breaking completely away from society can I arrive at a reasonable existence." 

A semi-migrant childhood was followed by some years at college, where he began by studying architecture but found himself diverted into studies of religion, psychology, and anthropology, readings that would later inform his own radical theories.

Dropping out of university in 1932, Bess worked for several years roughnecking in the Beaumont oil fields, and also made several trips to Mexico. It was during this time he began to exhibit his paintings, earning one-person shows at museums in San Antonio and Houston. During the war he enlisted in the Army Corps of Engineers and was given the task of designing camouflage, until he suffered a psychological breakdown and left the service. After living for a while in San Antonio, he finally settled at his family's camp at Chinquapin, near Bay City.

Bess was never comfortable for very long around other people, although he hosted frequent visitors to his home and studio at Chinquapin: artists, reporters, and some patrons made the trip to the spit of land on which Bess's shack stood. He did forge lasting relationships with a few friends and neighbours, and maintained years-long friendships and correspondence with Meyer Schapiro and with Betty Parsons, his art dealer in New York.

But ultimately Bess preferred solitude, and his prolific activities as an artist, highlighted by limited notoriety and success, alternated with longs spells of loneliness, depression, and an ever-increasing obsession with his own anatomical manifesto. He was never able to win any converts to his theories or validation from the many doctors and psychologists with whom he corresponded. In his own home town of Bay City, he was considered something of a small-town eccentric.

Forrest Bess died in a Bay City nursing home in 1977 from skin cancer. In the years following his death, his reputation as an artist began to build, and he is now regarded as a unique phenomenon, an artist who cannot be grouped with any one school but who answered solely and completely to his own vivid, personal vision."

http://www.forrestbess.org/about

[funkymbtifiction]

Scarlett O'Hara typing

I just finished watching Gone With the Wind and I have to ask: Why did youchange your typing of Scarlett O'Hara to SP/SO when her priority is SX the whole movie? At first she was all about general male attention, the only thing in her mind flirting and being admired for her beauty, then she zeroed in on Ashley and did the most outrageous (for the time) things for him. She's good at survival for sure, but not only is she a Se dom 3 (a 387 at that) but even Melanie searches a dead man's pocket for money. Scarlett works hard but explicity resents it and is constantly overwhelmed by it. She turns nastier the longer she has to focus on SP and be responsible for it, which doesn't fit SP 3 at all, as they like to provide for their own and their pride comes partially from it. She marries in hopes of hurting Ashley woth no thought of the future, including the possibility of becoming a widow. She passes an opportunity to save herself and travel the world with Rhett. When Ashley comes back from war she wants to run away with him with no care to the consequences or her responsabilities, and when he rejects her again she says now there's nothing left to fight and live for. He has to remind her she still has her land, which she had no problem leaving behind for him, whom she says she'd do anything for. She throws a fit at a man who could make her lose her land out of passion. She also wants her slave to have her father's watch after his death, and he has to remind her she'll need to sell her valuables to pay off her taxes. She refuses out of sentiment. Scarlett offers Ashley half of her lumber business (even after he admits he knows nothing about it and wouldn't be of any help) just so he doesn't leave, even tells him he could buy it from her later on. She loves being pampered as Rhett's wife, yet thoughtlessly ruins her life of luxury in seconds because of not bearing to not look as skinny and young as she used to, and her obsession with Ashley. She has no interest in how her business is doing when she came to show off her new outfit to Ashley. The whole movie she has people around her try to put some sense into her. She's vain, passional and reckless and has little of the level headness and down to earth nature of the SP 3. Her feelings run her to the point she even puts other people in precarious situations because of it. She's definitely SO blind as she has no care for her reputation at all, or hiw it'll affect her daughter's, she has no care for how her actions will be seen and has to be constantly held back by others. She also admits to being aware of what is said about her and not caring at all. She 's genally disliked  y anyone who isn't family or male suitors,yet makes no effort to change this. She also sucks at trying to pretend to be nice to her neighbors, specially compared to Rhutt. The way she'd leave her land, her mentally ill father, sister, aunt, servants and Melanie and her new born baby behind just to elope to Mexico with Ashley while claiming there was nothing keeping them there...that's SX/SP according to your own defi ition, isn't it? "Only me and my lover matters". Your original typing from 2014 was so accurate, I don't get it.

Yeah, you're right.

I suck at figuring out instincts. Hopefully I'll get better at it.

#question #gone with the wind

[bookoformon]

Mormon, Chapter 6, Part 5. "The Moldering."

The epilogue to the revelation of the Temporal Plates, which states if someone breaks the law they must be prosecuted in order to break the cycle of corruption and murder, states we need to be aware of how far along are our preparations for the Hour of Judgement at any time.

To prosecute is not enough. We need to prosecute at the right time. Donald Trump cheated in the 2016 election. Everyone knows it. He should not have been allowed to do this. The Family Research Council and the Faith and Freedom Coalition and the Alliance Defending Freedom, all Pro-Life organizations which are illegal under federal law, continued to operate and perpetrate acts of domestic terrorism and organized crime against their fellow Americans for decades. The Republican Party has been trafficking in under age gay porn and prostituting underage persons as a way of extorting its members and influencing policy for decades.

The FBI and Secret Service bend over backwards to protect their secrets so our shit show of a government doesn't just come apart like sheets of cheap toilet paper in a porta-john. The result is a government that was caught by surprise when the Mormons and the Marriotts, the Waltons, Mitt Romney, Dick Cheney, George Bush, One for Israel, the Friends of Israel, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints decided to attack Israel alongside Hamas on October 7. We did not repel Russia from Ukraine, Haiti is on fire. The Border with Mexico is on fire, there are shootings, stabbings, wildfires, floods, tornadoes, and wars happening all over the world.

Even in this day and age, we are inept at self-government. We are inept because we do not examine our lives Hour by Hour and pray like we should. We do not repent and seek the Holy Spirit to help us arrest the causes of our sins and thus they get worse.

President Biden needs to arrest every member of the aforementioned terror groups and explain how the world should respond his actions. Then we need to talk about the most important oversight our lack of repentance has brought about- we have not done all we can to help the hungry, needy, homeless, and those in need medicine, surgery, and basic living conditions. Because we like to fuck around instead.

The Book of Mormon says "an incorruptible justice and mercy alone" are the missions of the government. It is time we recognized the importance of these words:

15 And it came to pass that there were ten more who did fall by the sword, with their ten thousand each; yea, even all my people, save it were those twenty and four who were with me, and also a few who had escaped into the south countries, and a few who had deserted over unto the Lamanites, had fallen; and their flesh, and bones, and blood lay upon the face of the earth, being left by the hands of those who slew them to molder upon the land, and to crumble and to return to their mother earth.

16 And my soul was rent with anguish, because of the slain of my people, and I cried:

17 O ye fair ones, how could ye have departed from the ways of the Lord! O ye fair ones, how could ye have rejected that Jesus, who stood with open arms to receive you!

18 Behold, if ye had not done this, ye would not have fallen. But behold, ye are fallen, and I mourn your loss.

19 O ye fair sons and daughters, ye fathers and mothers, ye husbands and wives, ye fair ones, how is it that ye could have fallen!

20 But behold, ye are gone, and my sorrows cannot bring your return.

21 And the day soon cometh that your mortal must put on immortality, and these bodies which are now moldering in corruption must soon become incorruptible bodies; and then ye must stand before the judgment-seat of Christ, to be judged according to your works; and if it so be that ye are righteous, then are ye blessed with your fathers who have gone before you.

22 O that ye had repented before this great destruction had come upon you. But behold, ye are gone, and the Father, yea, the Eternal Father of heaven, knoweth your state; and he doeth with you according to his justice and mercy.

Carnage always takes place in the South, where an awakening becomes understanding. Our nation and planet are struggling with both. Chapter 6 concludes stating there is nothing we can do for persons like the Republicans and Evangelicals whose sins are too intractible. They have to be dealt with and we shouldn't feel too sorry about this, no one will miss them when they are all gone. As the Prophet says "you should not have fallen."

The Values in Gematria contains more final thoughts regarding the Temporal Plates which reflect the spiritual values contained in secular laws:

15a: And it came to pass that there were ten more who did fall by the sword, with their ten thousand each; yea, even all my people, save it were those twenty and four who were with me, and also a few. The Value in Gematria is 17811, יזחאא‎ ‎ , yezhaa, "I will recognize these on the spot."

15b: A few who had deserted over unto the Lamanites, had fallen; and their flesh, and bones, and blood lay upon the face of the earth, being left by the hands of those who slew them to molder upon the land, and to crumble and to return to their mother earth. The Value in Gematria is 10100, י‎א‎אֶפֶסאֶפֶס‎‎, "Ephesus, the future."

We must obey the law, we must be willing to arrest lawbreakers, no matter who they are and maintain a free, educated, mercantile way of life. Corruption of the sort that overtook this world, the fault of the government of the United States of America, which cannot self-police and control corruption in its government is fully preventable when the law is enforced. We do not need to invent a way to do this.

Our tears cannot fix any of this but they are a good place to start.

v. 16-17: Because of the slain of my people, and I cried. The Value in Gematria is 14133, ידאגג, "will take care."

v. 18-19a: But behold, ye are fallen, and I mourn your loss. The Value in Gematria is 11645, יאודה‎, "her vocation."

v. 19b-20: But behold, ye are gone, and my sorrows cannot bring your return. The Value in Gematria is 7955, זטהה‎‎‎‎, "This is it."

v. 21a: The day soon cometh. The Value in Gematria is 8854, חחהד‎‎ ‎, "Applies to hahad, to everyone."

v. 21b: You must stand before the Judgement Seat. The Value in Gematria is 13265, יגבוה‎ ‎ ‎"I will charge, I will rise."

v. 22: He knoweth your state. The Value in Gematria is 10661, י‎ו‎וא, yv a, "You learn about the 12."

As for why the Temporal Plates were hidden by Mormon, at the time,the suggestion we arrest people for their crimes probably waxed one in popularity quite a lot. It's still a fast way to get underneath the red carpet so I understand.

[deanstockwellgal]

Dean Stockwell interview from 2004.

Las Vegas Weekly

DEAN STOCKWELL AT THE FIFTH STAGE: FROM GREEN HAIR TO QUANTUM LEAP, CIGAR-SMOKING ACTOR HAS CARVED OUT A DISTINCTIVE CAREER

Jeffrey Anderson Thu, Jun 10, 2004 (midnight)

Biographers will have an easy time with Dean Stockwell. The actor's career breaks very neatly into four parts: child actor, young man, hippie, and character actor.

Born into a showbiz family in 1936 in Hollywood, Stockwell made his movie debut at age 8 in the MGM musical Anchors Aweigh. During a recent telephone interview, he says he doesn't remember his first day of work, but does remember that he didn't like it much.

"I found myself in a very weird world, this moviemaking. I was expected to do the same caliber of work as the adults, and at other times I would be reminded that I was a child. It was difficult. I could do the work but I didn't like it. Other than two comedies and The Boy with Green Hair, I didn't enjoy acting at all."

The Boy with Green Hair (1948) was a bizarre, passionate anti-war film that changed many people's lives. In it, 12 year-old Stockwell plays a war orphan whose hair turns green as a symbol for war orphans everywhere. The film marked the directorial debut of the celebrated Joseph Losey (The Servant, The Go-Between). "He was a very sweet man," Stockwell says. "I remember he gave me a puppy. It was a little dachshund and I named him Thief."

Stockwell notes that the film came "at a time when there was a very influential right wing that created the blacklist. This was prior to the McCarthy witch-hunts. Losey went to England and never came back. While the film was being made, I was unaware of that. I only found out about it years later. What did affect me was the content of the film. I took it very seriously. The other ones were just dropped in my lap, but I was very proud to do this role."

The actor dropped out of the movie business to go to high school, but re-emerged in his 20s. "I didn't have any training to do anything else in life," he says. He received some acclaim for his performances in Compulsion (1959) and Long Day's Journey Into Night (1962) before entering the "hippie" phase of his career, epitomized by the San Francisco Haight Street movie Psych-Out (1968).

It wasn't long before Stockwell burned out again, eventually moving to New Mexico and acquiring his real-estate license—though he never used it. "I was feeling pretty depressed," he says. While working on a "stupid Mexican 'B' movie," Stockwell learned that David Lynch was making Dune and managed to get an introduction.

"He said, 'I thought you were dead.' He had confused me with the kid who was in Shane," Stockwell says. (Brandon de Wilde died in a car accident in 1972.) Initially rejected, Stockwell landed the part of Dr. Wellington Yueh after another actor dropped out. Later that year, a film festival in Santa Fe put him in touch with Harry Dean Stanton, which led to his illustrious role in Paris, Texas.

"I never really liked acting until I was in my 40s," he says of this new period of creative character roles, which also included To Live and Die in LA, Blue Velvet, Tucker: The Man and His Dream, Jonathan Demme's Married to the Mob —his favorite role, for which he received an Oscar nomination—and the popular cult TV show Quantum Leap.

For Lynch's Blue Velvet, he based his role of the bizarre, effeminate Ben on Carol Burnett. "I told her about it to her face and she loved it. Funny how things work."

Demme also recently cast him in a "teeny, little part" in his new Manchurian Candidate remake. "I think it could be hot," Stockwell says.

It also was during this period that Stockwell's signature cigars started popping up from time to time, notably on Quantum Leap. "The cigar made its debut in Kim," he says, speaking of the 1950 film he made with Errol Flynn, based on the Rudyard Kipling novel of the same name. "I guess it was in the book; my character smokes these little cigars. I started smoking them for real years later in Nicaragua."

Now Stockwell has embarked upon what could be his fifth career stage as an artist. "I'm making collages and prints out of computer-made pieces. I'm having an exhibition in Taos, New Mexico, at the RB Ravens Gallery in September, and then another one later in Monterey [California]. There are 42 pieces in the show," he says proudly.

In a business where most child actors burn out quickly, Stockwell has shown remarkable staying power, especially with very few role models to learn from in his childhood. "I attribute it to good fortune and fate," he says. "It amazes me that I'm still alive and that I'm still working."

#dean stockwell #dean stockwell 2004