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peligrosapop · 1 year

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Puerto Rican baseball players come in all flavors

Lo jugadores de beisbol de Puerto Rico vienen en todos los sabores

#kike hernandez #martin maldonado #javier baez #francisco lindor #puerto rico #puerto rico baseball

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lastshadeofme · 1 year

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I would’ve loved to see a strong friendship between Diego and Naty, I don’t know, I just feel like they would’ve had such a good energy together, like being best friends and all, both knowing Ludmila very well could’ve add to that being logical

Maybe it’s the fact that Alba and Diego are good friends, but their characters could’ve had that same energy I swear, that’s why I always write them as best friends in my fics

#violetta #diego hernandez #naty vidal #diego domínguez #alba rico navarro #my opinion

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tumbaomediaproductions · 16 hours

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Orchestra Fuego Lanza “Nostalgia”: Un Tributo Salsificado a los Gigantes de la Música

Tampa, FL – Con gran entusiasmo y un espíritu de celebración, Orchestra Fuego, liderada por el icónico Marcus Hernandez, miembro del Salón de la Fama de la Música Indie, anuncia el lanzamiento de su nueva producción musical titulada “Nostalgia”. Este álbum es un homenaje apasionado y vibrante a las voces que han definido generaciones, transformando clásicos inolvidables en poderosas versiones de…

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#Estados Unidos #Marcus Hernandez #Nostaliga #Orchestra Fuego #Puerto Rico #Salsa

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mqpcimqg86 · 3 months

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(mqpcimqg86.tumblr.com) Cute whore Harper Maddox works her holes on seven hard dicks! GO ON...

#In this episode of Family Swap #Kimmy Kimm is hanging out with her swap brother Rico Hernandez.

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ukdamo · 9 months

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Puerto Rico

Victor Hernández Cruz Born on a turf a medieval remnant Owned by the United States it was almost water So minute the earthen formation, barely rock, a swift of natura intention geologic lift forgot the mud load as the rising slow, eruption popped peep there it is piedra Caribe, world mapmakers save on the ink, what minuscule elaboration bays, lakes, hidden caves landscape, chains of mountains opening blue neck of sky mounted glued alongside other Hispano-Caribbean isles Santo Domingo/embracing Haiti Cuba bird snake long. Spanish-African movement. the Federation which Betances the doctor clambered for the Hispania Antilles, intellectual political Independence. Some letter bestowing Puerto Rico sovereignty from the Spanish Crown the United States no desire to open that envelope. Betances visionary mestizo Paris his doctors’ foot.

The epoch of gold when on the island with my son we made home, in the neighborhood of the tobacconists Aguas Buenas on a street called Antorcha a socialist flame of the independentistas workers barrio of chichales. My family there Generations. The mornings waking my son for school, watching him become a man, awakening sense to life, his first girl kisses that pretty brown girl primer girlfriend I spotted them once wrapped round each other, like two bacalaito fritters tangled, later my mother cooked Red beans and plantain tostones along with yellow rice sparked with corn, The island was this sofrito flavor for me, bolero music of my mother she grew sadness with the lyrics wondering of all the lost loves, memories illusions making efforts to materialize, see them almost like bridges hanging out from her eyes. Days were found her in tears lonely in her room Fragrance of Florida water circulating blue colcha, picture of her mother and father above bed, nothing was ever coming, the only future was the end.

The Caribbean is everywhere lost within us, trapped in kitsch glorious rooms of plasticity jails, so much grime ‘’tween the beauty contra-la-danza, René Marqués our writer Belched out “Condenao mar, tanta agua Y no limpia nah”

Through the bullets flying now in panoramic tropical scenarios, Mother kept singing, as esperanza, gently vibrato hope like a white Garza landing upon a cadaver.

Humming songsforever soothing. convinced she would meet everyone she knew in heaven again. Singing boleros café con leche, Pastelillos de Guayaba.

To the bad times, give a happy face, place a red amapola in your black dark hair. Revive the mummies, the dead, burst the bodies out of the coffins let’s all walk to the plaza this final time paint with silver starlight the ancient songs in night sky, Rain Again What never commenced Comes to a finale.

#poetry #victor hernandez #puerto rico #home #history #passion #pride #power #colonialism #socialism #life story #love #nature #nurture

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kaispo-com · 1 year

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“Puerto Rican all-rounder” /

Kike Hernandez (Boston Red Sox) /

the 2023 WBC Star player’s movie resume Vol.29 /

Major Candidate for Team Puerto Rico

#MLB #Baseball #WBC #Baseballplayer #scoutingreport #Resume #WorldBaseballClassic #Majorleague #homerun #PuertoRico #SanJuan #KikeHernandez #EnrigueHernandez #HoustonAstros #LosAngelesDodgers #BostonRedSox #Utilityplayer

Player’s Movie Resume

https://youtu.be/1-9NIO-qQak

About KAISPO BASEBALL innovation

Hi, baseball fans!

KAISPO Baseball Innovation is baseball media that includes blogs, news, columns, and movies about MLB, Ichiro Suzuki, Aaron Judge, Shohei Ohtani, NPB, and U18 baseball. Its writers are baseball analysts, historians, researchers, and bloggers.

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#youtube #MLB #WBC #world baseball classic #Baseball #kike hernandez #Enrique Hernandez #puerto rico #puerto rican #san juan #boston red sox #houston astros #los angeles dodgers #resume #basball playe

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rudrjobdesk · 2 years

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71 फीसदी जल गया था शरीर, 3 साल में हुई 28 सर्जरी! अब डॉक्टर बनने के सपने को पूरा करने निकला युवक

दुनिया में कई लोग ऐसे होते हैं जिनकी कहानियां हमें आगे बढ़ने के लिए मोटिवेट करती हैं और जिंदगी से लड़ने का नया जज्बा देती हैं. ऐसी ही कहानी एक अमेरिकी नागरिक (American man burned 71 percent starts medical studies) की है जिसने बेहद मुश्किल दौर में भी हार नहीं मानी और अब अपने डॉक्टर बनने के सपने को पूरा करने के लिए निकला है. हैरानी की बात ये है कि शख्स एक भयंकर हादसे का शिकार हो गया था जिसके बाद…

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#71 percent burn for medical student #8 months 19 surgery man burned #ajab gajab news #ajeebogareeb khabar #Alexis Hernandez #amazing news #hatke khabar #hatke news #khabren zara hatke #man burned 71 percent #medical student burnt 71 percent #omg khabar #omg news #puerto rico #puerto rico man burn 71 percent starts studying medical #trending news #Viral News #weird news #world news

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

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Midnight | Chapter 3 | S.R

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary - Spencer is at a loss after leaving the BAU. You find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time and life as you know it will never be the same again.

A/N - Chapter title from the Set it Off album “Cinematics”. Song lyrics at the end of the chapter.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - drinking, Spencer’s rapidly declining mental health, nightmares, mentions of blood, swearing, cleaning up a crime.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter Three - Nightmare

The scraps of paper littered the bed like the world's most depressing confetti in his pathetic party for one. Ramblings of a man on the brink of destruction riddled the torn pages, manifestos of his rapidly declining brain.

Names and crude drawings of warped human faces seemed to taunt him, coming alive from the paper and wrapping themselves around him in a blanket of evil.

Linwood Jones.

Rico Hernandez.

Alex Matthews.

Taylor Gardener.

Eric Gomez.

Peter Cohen.

And they were just ones within the District of Columbia.

He had his bed sheet wrapped right up to his neck, pulling it close around his body like a cape and looking somewhat like a down on his luck superhero.

It had been two weeks since he’d stormed out of the BAU and he’d only left his apartment once since to buy an obscene amount of scotch. He was down to his last bottle which meant he’d have to venture out again, but honestly, leaving the confines of this room seemed an impossible feat.

There were days when Spencer’s bed held him hostage, the sheets working like hands keeping him firmly in place, wrapped in a straight jacket of his own mind. But it was preferable to being let loose on the world. There was something about being alone that enabled him to breathe so much easier than when he was surrounded by people.

But as he brought the bottle to his lips and noticed it was almost half empty, he knew he had to at least make an effort to drag his sorry ass out of bed today, being sober didn’t seem like a safe option for him right now.

Time had ceased to exist for him, his curtains pulled tightly shut so had no concept of day or night. Once his cell phone battery had died he didn’t have the impetus to charge it. It was a relief to be honest, it meant he wouldn’t have to hear it bleating every time the team tried to call or text him.

They’d tried to visit too, JJ, Garcia, Rossi and Emily had all knocked on his door and proceeded to try and engage him by talking through the door. It was painfully similar to when he was grieving Maeve’s death only this time Garcia hadn’t left baskets full of food.

He had nothing to say to any of them. All they’d want to do was talk him into coming back and that was something he categorically could not do. What he was going to do however, was still a mystery.

He took another swig from the bottle before rubbing his hand aggressively against his eye. A few days ago his left eye had started to twitch, the way it had when he left prison and it was yet to stop. It was growing sore from the way in which he kept rubbing his palm against it.

He still had PTSD from prison, maybe he always would. And it was only fuelled by the stress of wondering what the hell his next move was going to be. He couldn’t fathom thinking that far into the future. The only thing he could focus on right now was the list of names and the fact that he was rapidly running out of scotch.

Tomorrow might be better. Some days he was completely fine, a normal functioning human being. Some days he was able to leave the clutches of the bed that held him captive so he could shower and eat. Other times he didn’t leave his bed for days at a time.

Some days it was one step forward, five steps back. Some days Spencer wished he could cease to exist entirely, become one with the bed, close his eyes and never wake up. Today seemed like it might be one of those days.

Sometimes it felt as though he wasn’t alone in his home, like there was evil lurking in the shadows, ready to come forth and pull him down into the darkness with them. He wasn’t sure he would have the energy to fight them if they did, maybe drowning in the abyss with his demons was how it was supposed to end for him.

Maybe it was all the faces that belonged to those names, taunting him, begging for him to do something before it was too late and they hurt more people. But how? How did he defeat these monsters that flew beneath the radar?

A voice continued to nag him, begging him to do something for these victims who couldn’t help themselves. He had the brains, he had the resources. He had almost a complete puzzle in front of him but he was missing a key piece.

He continued sipping his scotch while his eyes darted between the scraps of paper littering his bed. At some point he managed to free himself to use the bathroom after going hours without urinating. He kept the sheet wrapped tightly around his body as he padded through to the en-suite, relieved himself and quickly shuffled back into his bedroom.

His brain was telling him to get back into bed but for some reason his feet kept on walking, no real destination in mind. He did that sometimes, just wandered the rooms of his apartment aimlessly, running his fingers along book spines or his chess set or the back of the couch, maybe in an attempt to keep himself tethered to a reality that was rapidly slipping away from him.

The cracks in his psyche had become chasms, giant gaping holes in his brain in which his sanity was falling through piece by piece. The isolation didn’t help, he should reach out to someone, use them as a liftline to pull him back from this brink before he dove over the edge. He needed a light to shine through the darkness, to convince him this wasn’t the end for him before it was too late.

But he was far too stubborn to admit he needed their help, he would rather die in a pool of his own self-destruction than ask any of them for assistance.

He continued wandering the apartment, sinking his toes into the thick shag rug and keeping the bed sheet tightly wrapped around his body. His eyes darted around but he wasn’t looking at anything in the room, his eyes were bouncing between the names that seemed to follow him everywhere.

The world would be a better place if those monsters were dead. Even if the cops did get their heads out of their asses and arrest them, prison would only hold them so long. Death was what they deserved.

Oh how he would love to be the one to put an end to them, to point a gun between their eyes and pull the trigger. No, that wasn’t slow enough, death would be too fast. Maybe he could wrap his hands around their necks and squeeze until life left their demonic eyes. No, not gory enough. They deserved to shed blood.

He found himself in his kitchen without realising he’d walked through there. The top drawer was open and his hand was reaching inside towards the back. His fingers wrapped around a handle, and he was soon withdrawing an object that had remained untouched in the back of his drawer for over a decade.

Gideon had bestowed the antique hunting knife on him for his birthday one year, many moons again. Much like most of Gideon’s gifts, Spencer hadn’t understood why exactly his mentor would think he’d require such an item. Maybe he knew.

Maybe even all those years ago Gideon had seen the evil within Spencer. Maybe he’d always known this was where Spencer’s road would lead him.

The blade would make the perfect weapon to slice open the throat of a murderer or a rapist. It wouldn’t be an instant death and it would be messy. He could stand over the body of his victim while he watched them bleed to death.

Suddenly Spencer knew what he needed to do. It all became so clear in startling clarity. It was as though a thick fog had cleared and he was finally able to see the horizon. Those people who flew under the radar, evaded capture from law enforcement deserved to die.

And it was his job to do that.

The list of names he’d been building up in his mind for the last two weeks were just the tip of the iceberg. There were hundreds, thousands more out there who had literally gotten away with murder.

Not anymore. Spencer would make sure of it. He would ensure those men would never hurt another human being. It was all so fucking clear now. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this sooner.

Spencer held the blade up to the light and saw his reflection staring back at him on the shiny metal surface.

For the first time in months, he was smiling.

***

“Ok if you yawn one more time, I’m going to start thinking you don’t appreciate my dazzling personality.” Luke cocked his eyebrow at you across the table as you stifled yet another yawn.

You shrugged in apology and lifted your drink to your lips, taking a hefty swig and hoping the caffeine in your vodka cola would help even a little.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”

“You still having those nightmares?” He sat forward in his chair and leant on the table with his elbows.

It had now been three weeks since Spencer left the BAU and none of you had heard from him even once. Several members of the team had tried to go to his apartment but he was either never there or simply wouldn’t answer the door. You hadn’t tried to contact him, despite the fact it was killing you not to. And almost every night since his departure from the team, you’d been having nightmares.

They all followed a similar pattern. You were back at the Fugitive Task Force, hunting down one of the most prolific serial killers the world had ever seen. He was wanted by multiple federal, state and local law enforcement agencies across the country and suspected of killing upwards of one hundred people. You’d received a tip off on his location and gone in pursuit alone.

You’d traced him to a desolate cabin in the woods on the edge of a lake. It was pitch black out in the woods, leaves crunching under foot as you approached the house, firearm drawn in front of you. There was a single light emanating from inside the cabin on the second floor and it was glowing red.

Creeping up the front steps you found the door unlocked and before you opened it, you lifted your collar and spoke into your comm system pinned to the lapel.

“I’ve reached the house, I’m continuing in pursuit.”

“Wait for backup Y/L/N, don’t be a hero.” Luke’s voice came through the crackly speaker in your ear.

“Negative, there’s no time. If he even catches a whiff of police presence he’s fleeing again. This is our only chance.”

“Y/L/N stand down, wait for backup.” Luke hissed.

You didn’t reply and instead you reached for the door handle and entered the old cabin. The floorboards were a little creaky and you held your breath as you cautiously traversed the first floor.

Luke’s voice kept sounding in your ear, distracting you from your mission but you didn’t recall what he said, it was always some incoherent mumbles. As you headed towards the stairs you removed your earpiece so you could give the situation your full attention.

The walk up the stairs was always distant, somehow you seemed to appear at the top of them with a door in front of you. Not stopping for breath you gripped the handle and entered the room.

On the far side of the room shrouded in red light was a figure with his back to you, looking out the window. His image was hazy, as if the room were filled with smoke.

“FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!” You screamed at him but he either didn’t hear you or ignored you.

And then the dream always turned weird. Blood started to pour down the walls and a claret waterfall appeared between you and the unsub. It came down like torrential rain, completely obscuring them from vision.

“FBI! You’re under arrest!”

You felt it start to cover you, the warm, sticky substance falling heavily into your eyes, your mouth, soaking through your clothes.

“FBI, show me your hands!” You spluttered against the onslaught of blood.

“You can’t help me.” A voice came from the distance, oddly recognisable but you couldn’t place it.

“I’m not here to help you, I’m here to stop you.”

“You can’t do that either.”

And like the Red Sea parting, so did the waterfall of blood and the unsub walked right towards you with a menacing grin on his face, covered from head to toe in blood.

You gasped as he closed in on you, dropping your firearm on the floor in shock as he advanced.

“There’s no helping me, Y/N. I’m too far gone.” Spencer chuckled manically seconds before he lifted the blade in his hand and suddenly drove it towards your heart.

And that’s where you always woke up, panting and sweating and sometimes even screaming. It didn’t make any sense. You knew dreams were interpretive but what was this supposed to mean? You were worried about Spencer clearly, but surely you weren’t that concerned about him?

You’d made the mistake of telling Luke about your nightmares, something you wished now more than ever you hadn’t disclosed to him.

“I guess.” You shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“I think it is, you look exhausted.”

“Thanks.” You pulled a face. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You could just call him, you know? Or go to his place? It might put your mind at ease.” Luke wore his concern on his face.

“He’s made it clear he doesn’t want to see any of us. Seriously, I’ll be fine.” You downed the remains of your drink and stretched your back. “I should go home though, I am exhausted.”

Luke nodded and finished his beer and the two of you stood from the table and gathered your things. He escorted you out of the bar and onto the street.

“You wanna split a cab?” He asked with a smile.

“We live in opposite directions.” You chuckled. “But thanks. I think I’ll take a walk, it’s only a few blocks.”

“It’s late, let me get you a cab.” He tried again.

“Alvez, I carry a gun. I think I’ll be ok.” You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you Monday, assuming we don’t get called in beforehand.”

He offered you a smile that told you he wasn’t happy about letting you walk home alone but he also knew you could handle yourself better than most people he knew. Not only could you run circles around him but you were also a force to be reckoned with in a boxing ring. He knew you were probably the last person he needed to worry about. And like you’d said, you did carry a weapon.

“See you Monday, conejito.” He winked at you and you gave him a wave in response before turning and heading on your way.

You enjoyed walking the streets of DC at night, especially this time of year in late spring when it was still a reasonable temperature. You kept one hand on your purse, like always, your personal firearm tucked inside just in case you ever needed it. In all the years you’d lived here you never had, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

You walked on autopilot, your legs carrying you in the direction of your home for several blocks. That was until you came to a particular cross street and you halted in your tracks without meaning to do so.

If you carried on left you’d reach your apartment in two blocks. But if you went four blocks right you would end up at a different apartment, one you’d previously spent a lot of time at, but you hadn’t visited for a while.

You looked up and down the street, your mind fighting an internal battle. You should go home, but if you went home you would inevitably only be inviting more nightmares.

You could just pass by his place, not even stop, just walk down the street and make sure everything seemed normal. Although, what would you class as out of place? What did you expect to find?

Before you’d realised you’d made up your mind, you’d started walking again, in the opposite direction of your home.

***

Spencer sat in the driver's seat of his old Volvo in the small alleyway behind his apartment building, only illuminated by the moon high in the sky. The ancient engine rumbled, vibrating his seat and echoing around the otherwise silent street. He shut the car off and suddenly the world around him became still.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, nails grazing over the stitching in the leather. He kept his eyes trained out the windscreen on the narrow alleyway in front of him. His heart beat frantically against his chest even now. But he felt oddly at peace, a wave of euphoria rushing through his veins.

He stayed this way for several long minutes, ensuring no one was traversing the street at this time of night. He needed privacy for what he needed to do.

He glanced at his hands and the substance he’d inadvertently transferred from them to the steering wheel. He let go of it and reached into his pocket for the old rag which he used to wipe all around the wheel before using it to cover his dirty hand and open the car door.

He slid out into the quiet alley and closed the door behind him before rounding the vehicle to the trunk. Using the same rag he opened it and stared down at the mess he’d made.

The first time he’d panicked, forgetting his years of crime scene training as he’d surveyed what he done in fear of what the fuck he did next. This was the second time now and his head was clearer, he would stay calm and clean up his mess, get rid of the evidence. Getting caught was not an option.

He would be smarter about it this time around. No need to fret himself. He’d already taken care of the hardest part and now all he needed to do was clean up after himself.

He used the rag to wipe the residual blood off his hands, he’d worry about cleaning under his nails and all the nooks and crannies later when he was home. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed the bottle of bleach from the corner of the before pouring ample amounts of it into the lining of his trunk.

Using a thick bristled brush he started to scrub, not a single inch of the lining being left untouched. He spent a long time ensuring he’d gotten every little drop of blood, periodically looking up and around to make sure no one had meandered down the alley. It wasn’t a high traffic area, away from central DC. The alley was occasionally used as a shortcut by pedestrians but he wasn’t too worried.

Once he’d finished scrubbing the lining he poured a little more bleach onto a clean rag which he used to wipe down the lip of the trunk and all the metal insides.

His clothes were still filthy, he’d take care of them once he was home. It was only an old t-shirt and jeans, he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin his nice suits. He’d strip down, toss everything into a garbage bag and dispose of them alongside his gloves, cleaning rags and shoe covers in the morning.

He finished cleaning the trunk and deposited his cleaning supplies in a bag along with the latex gloves before closing it. As he turned to get back in the car, a set of wide eyes stared right at him.

He froze in place, fully aware of the blood stained t-shirt he wore on display. The eyes blinked a few times at him, legs stumbling backwards a little in fear.

He took a few calming breaths, quickly trying to ascertain a plan, a way to talk himself out of this. But a bloodstained t-shirt coupled with the knife in his waistband which would have been visible from behind, certainly looked incriminating.

He held his hands up as if in surrender, not daring to step any closer for fear of making his company flee before he had a chance to try and work his way out of this situation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” He tried to insist. “Let me explain.”

But he’d barely gotten his sentence out before you were turning on your heels and running.

***

Normally you would not be so stupid as to take a shortcut down a dark alley at night but you did have a gun, and it would make the journey to Spencer’s a lot faster.

Little did you know you would soon live to regret this decision.

Clutching your purse close to you, you turned off the main street and started up the alley that ran between two blocks of apartments, one being Spencer’s.

You spotted the little old car parked about halfway up almost as soon as you entered the street but didn’t think much of it. Maybe if it hadn’t been dark you would have recognised it sooner.

The engine was idling but as you started down the alley it cut it out and soon someone was exiting the vehicle. You found yourself ducking into a doorway, out of sight, not particularly wanting to find yourself in a dark alley with a stranger. You held your bag tighter, ready to grab the gun shielded inside at a moment's notice.

You heard footsteps in the otherwise silent street and then heard a trunk opening. For a few seconds you didn’t hear much of anything but then a strange sound met your ears.

Brushing? Scrubbing? Is someone cleaning?

You swallowed thickly, thinking there could be only one good reason someone was cleaning the trunk of their car at night, off of the main road.

Shit. Shit. What the fuck do I do?

You tried to calm yourself, reminding yourself you were a damn FBI agent and this really shouldn’t phase you. You could apprehend them, you kept some snap cuffs in your purse.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

You forced yourself to creep out of the doorway, not drawing your weapon just yet, and slowly and quietly headed closer.

They had their back to you, leaning over inside the trunk but you could tell they were male, tall and slim. The scrubbing sound continued for a while and you stepped closer. It was too late by the time you spotted the knife tucked into his waistband.

Soon you heard the rustling of a plastic bag and what sounded suspiciously like latex gloves being removed. Your heart raced in your chest as the man shut the trunk and stood back to his full height.

You would recognise that messy mop of curly hair anywhere, even from behind. You stopped walking, physically unable to take another step once the realisation set it.

And then Spencer turned and his eyes landed straight on you.

Your eyes immediately fell to the blood soaked shirt he wore and your stomach coiled into knots as the pieces slotted themselves into place. He stared at you for a few moments before he raised his hands in surrender.

“It’s not what it looks like.” He croaked out. “Let me explain.”

But you didn’t hear him out. Despite your years of FBI training, your fight or flight response took over. And your brain chose flight.

You turned back down the alley and started running as fast as your legs would carry you. You could hear your heart beating in your ears but you could also make out the sound of footsteps chasing after you.

“Y/N! Come back! I can explain!” His voice carried after you but you didn’t stop, if anything you quickened your pace.

Luke had always been in awe of how fast you could run. Conejito, that’s what he called you. And if there was ever a time you needed to run like the wind, it was now.

Maybe it was the fear slowing you down, or maybe Spencer was quicker than you expected, but you didn’t even reach the end of the alleyway before he caught up with you.

You smelt the metallic blood seconds before a set of arms were wrapping around your torso and a hand was clamping over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

He grabbed you and shoved you against a wall, pressing his body into your back to cage you in. He was panting from the exertion, but you were just trying to figure out a way to reach for your gun.

“You’ve got to let me explain.” He spoke into the side of your face. “What you saw…it wasn’t what you saw.”

You tried to talk back, tried to scream but your sounds were muffled against his hand. He pressed you firmly against the wall and you felt his hand that wasn’t on your mouth scrabbling behind you. And you knew exactly what he was doing.

You felt him open your purse and seconds later he withdrew your firearm and tucked into his waistband with the knife.

“You won’t be needing that.” He spoke again. “Look, you’re going to come with me ok? We’re going to go up to my apartment and we’re going to talk. We can either do it the easy way or the hard way.”

You’d been in situations like this before, more times than you could count. You knew your best chance at survival, your best chance of apprehending an unsub was to do as they said with little resistance.

You nodded your head against his hand and that seemed to be enough for him as he stepped back a little, but wrapped his hand tightly around your wrist. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth and turned you around.

His eyes bore into you, waiting to see if you might scream or not but you knew better. You stayed silent and eventually he started walking back up the alley, dragging you by the wrist with him.

As you walked you couldn’t help but think back to all those nightmares that had plagued you since Spencer’s departure from the BAU. They’d seemed so unrealistic, just a twisted amalgamation of your worry for Spencer. But now it didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Spencer hadn’t been the same since prison, that much you all knew. But it seemed as though it had awoken a monster inside of him, and now you were trapped in a new nightmare, one you may never be able to escape from.

They're coming, creeping from the corner,

And all I know is that I don't feel safe.

I feel the tapping on my shoulder,

I turn around in an alarming state.

But am I losing my mind? I really think so,

Not a creature in sight,

But, what you don't know.

Is that my breathing gets faster and so does my heartbeat,

I wish this was over, I wish that this was a dream but,

I created a monster, a hell within my head.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

Oh, I'm so scared.

I created a monster, a beast inside my brain.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

My mind impaired.

Awake me from my nightmare.

Wait, something doesn't feel right (feel right),

No, something seems wrong (wrong).

And I've been feeling this way (oh, that's too bad),

For far too long.

As my vision gets blurred, my skin's getting colder,

Appearing young, while I'm growing older.

I collapse to the floor and scream,

"Can anybody save me from myself?"

I created a monster, a hell within my head.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

Oh, I'm so scared.

I created a monster, a beast inside my brain.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

My mind impaired.

Awake me from my nightmare.

Walking to the ledge, I find myself looking down,

Frozen still with fear, now I'm plunging to the ground.

If only I knew how to fly,

Then I could convince myself this isn't my time to die.

Instead, I'm rocketing faster and faster,

I dive-bomb to the floor.

And when my body crashes to the pavement,

I'm right back where I was before.

I created a monster, a hell within my head.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

Oh, I'm so scared.

I created a monster, a hell within my head.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

Oh, I'm so scared, no, whoa.

I created a monster, a beast inside my brain.

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own,

My mind impaired.

Awake me from my nightmare (I'm so scared).

Awake me from my nightmare.

Next Chapter

Taglist

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @dr-spencerr-reidd @spenxerslut @radtwinkie @drayshadow @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @dielgonacoffee @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle

#spencer reid #unsub! spencer reid #unsub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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wawamouse · 6 months

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Rating some of the jewelry on Oz

Ryan O'Reily: Classic golden cross, simple and sleek. The snake chain adds a certain elegance while still being a respectable thickness. 8/10

Chucky Pancamo: Gold rope chain with a boxing glove pendant and diamond inlay, later joined in season 5 by a gold medallion with a boxer or strongman depicted and switched over to a thick paperclip type chain. The pendants give charm bracelet. A little kitsch but the heavy gold never drowns him bc he's a big guy. 7/10 for the early season look. 5/10 for the later season jewelry. The chain type didn't suit the double pendants imo.

Kareem Said: Multicolored, polished wooden beads with a light green tassel pendant. (Above-left: s4, right: s6) The necklace originally looks quite well-made and taken care of. By s6, after Said breaks the string in anger, it appears that the necklace was remade on a shorter string: the beads have been forced tighter together, the once beautiful tassel is a darker color with the strings matted and tangled. 9/10 in the original state. 5/10 in the remade state. The beads are still nice.

Kenny Wangler: Dog tag even though his ass was NOT in the military (not that I would award points if he was). Kind of looks like it's not even on a beaded chain, but I can't really tell. 3/10. Know yourself.

Burr Redding: Possibly leather/rope string with long wooden beads. Wooden face/mask pendant attached by metal clasp. Don't like the size of the pendant with the length of the necklace but it matches the vibe. 6/10

Raoul Hernandez: Honestly I couldn't get a good look at what the pendant depicts. It appears to be a woman in a skirt standing over something with a ruby inlay incorporated into it in the lower left. Strung on a thick rope chain. Very pretty. Very big. I appreciated the commitment. 8/10. Special side shout out to John's crazy huge (presumably) Virgin Mary necklace on the herringbone chain. Big theatrical Catholic energy, probably the way it should be. 9/10 for John.

Chico Guerra: My guy started wearing chains near the end of s4, coming out the gate with a thin golden rope, moving on to a cuban chain for s5 and then switching to a figaro chain in s6. This really just comes down to preference of chain type bc he never has a pendant. I love rope chains because they're pretty uwu but the cuban chain feels more expected of Chico. Figaro chains look cheap to me and also don't think I didn't see him rip that thing right off his neck in the laundry room. In order: 8/10, 7/10, 5/10.

Jia Kenmin: I have ranted about this previously but this mad man is wearing a highly breakable piece of jade on a single long red string while he jumps around and stands upside down. The pendant from what I could tell in other close ups depicts a dragon, and the color of the jade is nice and pale. Should've been on a braided string or placed on gold. That string is pure arrogance. 7/10.

Jorge Vasquez: We got a rosary cross and a giant metal (maybe gold but probably not) Puerto Rico pendant on a densely beaded string. The rosary on its own is very nice—dark beads along a metal chain. The Puerto Rico necklace clashes completely with everything, but then again, this guy has every single finger and his wrists taped like he's about to start rock climbing or doing jiu jitsu or something, so who can really know what's going on in his mind? 7/10 for the rosary. 2/10 for the PR necklace. I respect repping the heritage but that thing is truly ugly.

Johnny Basil as "Mobay". Of course this dumb dumb also has a rope necklace with a puka shell on a clay bead pendant with Jamaican flag color beads. I wonder where his cover is supposed to be from... 6/10. A bit tacky looking but simplistic enough to not offend the eyes.

#oz hbo #text #ryan o'reily #chucky pancamo #kenny wangler #burr redding #chico guerra #jia kenmin #raoul hernandez #jorge vasquez #johnny basil #ldajfladjk the s4/s6 said photos..... he was really going thru it #I may have gotten some of the chains wrong. low quality video and whatnot

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babyarty · 3 months

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An incomplete list of Trans and gender nonconforming people murdered for existing in the 2020s

Here is the complete list of Trans people murdered in 2023, compiled by Transrespect versus Transphobia Worldwide (TvT).

2020 – Özge Bilir, aged 25, was a Dutch trans woman of Turkish descent living in Leidsche Rijn, Utrecht. She was stabbed to death by her ex-boyfriend.

2020 – Alexa Luciano Ruiz was fatally shot in Puerto Rico on 24 February, after an incident in a local restroom. Ms. Luciano was killed while the assailant men laughed.

2020 – Michelle Michellyn Ramos Vargas, a 33-year-old trans woman, was found dead on an isolated road after being shot multiple times on 30 September in San Germán, Puerto Rico. She worked as a bartender and was studying to become a nurse.

2020 – Selena Reyes-Hernandez, 37, was fatally shot in Chicago, Illinois, on 31 May by a man she went home with, after telling him that she was transgender.

2020 – Brayla Stone, 17, was murdered in Arkansas in June 2020 by a man seeking to conceal his sexual relationship with her. The killer pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 50 years in prison.

2020 – Valera, a 46-year-old man, a janitor, was raped and killed on 10 February in Chelyabinsk, Russia, by his dorm roommates after they learned he was a transgender man.

2021 – Ebeng Mayor, a trans man from Batasan Hills, Philippines, was found raped, mutilated, and killed on 20 May 2021, after being missing for three days.

2022 – Briza Garces Florez, a 40-year-old Colombian trans sex worker from the Netherlands, was stabbed to death by her 32-year-old boyfriend.

2022 – Doski Azad, a 23-year-old Kurdish transgender woman, was murdered by her brother for being transgender.

2022 – Ariyanna Mitchell, a 17-year-old Black trans girl from Virginia, was shot and killed by 19-year-old Jimmy LeShawn Williams with an assault rifle, after he asked her if she was transgender, and she replied, "yes".

2022 - Cherry Bush, a homeless 48-year-old trans woman, was shot to death in Los Angeles.

2023 - Brianna Ghey was stabbed to death in Culcheth Linear Park on 11 February 2023.

2024 - Nex Benedict, a 16-year-old non-binary American student died one day after being assaulted in the girls' restroom.

(This is Nex)

Their friends and mother say that they experienced bullying for more than a year, because of their gender identity, before the assault. The bullying got progressively worse after a bill was passed in Oklahoma to prohibit the use of non-binary gender markers on birth certificates. Public school students are legally required to use restrooms only according to the gender on their birth certificate.

Nex was assaulted in the restroom by three girls and beaten unconscious. Sue Benedict, Nex's mother, was called to school and she found Nex with bruises on their face and scratches on the back of their head. She was informed that they had been suspended for two weeks. Sue took them to a nearby hospital and called the Oklahoma police department.

Nex told the officer how they had heard the girls making comments about their group and how they had poured water on the girls which then led to the altercation. They then said that had been attacked and had blacked out on the floor. The officer told Sue that this could be considered "mutual" and if they were to press charges, Nex would be open to those same charges. She declined at the time. Nex were later discharged and reportedly went to bed with a sore head.

(Nex with their cat)

The following day, on February 8, as they were preparing to travel with their mother for an appointment, Nex collapsed in the family's living room. Sue Benedict called 911, saying that Nex’s eyes had rolled back and they were struggling to breathe. Nex had stopped breathing by the time EMTs arrived. Nex was declared dead at the hospital that evening.

This is, by no means, a complete list. It does not even include a fraction of the murders of gender queer people in the 2020s, let alone the suicides, rapes, assaults, attempted murders, etc. It does not include the crimes against the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Thank you for reading the whole thing.

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theanticool · 9 months

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Friday Night Fights!

We got 3 cards lined up for tonight.

First the Top Rank ESPN card featuring Luis Alberto Lopez vs Joet Gonzalez for the IBF featherweight title. Lopez is coming off of big wins over guys like Josh Warrington and Mick Conlan to win and defend the title. Rising Puerto Rico prospect Xander Zayas is also on there facing off with Roberto Valenzuela Jr. Plus you got Jamaine Ortiz returning to action for the first time since taking Vasyl Lomachenko to his limit last year.

Next we got the Matchroom card from Mexico on DAZN as Hearn looks for someone who can be a star in the western hemisphere. Angel Fierro will take on Brayan Rodriguez in the headliner. On the undercard, Erika Cruz Hernandez will make her first appearance since losing her featherweight title to Amanda Serrano in February. Gave her a good fight thought. Hernandez will face former IBO bantamweight “champ” and Invicta FC vet Melissa Oddessa Parker. Former Olympian Skye Nicolson returns to action as she climbs the ranks at featherweight. She’s facing off with Sabrina Maribel Perez. This seems like a way of lining up a fight between Nicolson and Hernandez next tbh. Which I would not be against.

Last card listed is LFA 167. Features a welterweight headliner between Devin Smyth and Jonathan Piersma. Also Ashley Nichols is on the card, facing Mexican strawweight Nadia Vera.

#lfa #boxing #mma #gifs and pics #Friday night fights

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floresclandestinas · 11 months

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"Dónde muere el amor"

Loy Hernandez

Guayama, Puerto Rico

17 de noviembre del 2017 Copyright

Hoy me construí de alba

tú, te hiciste de luna

y te fuiste alejando

con el viento y la bruma.