#Running Strip Light Controller india | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lakshmi-tata-chennai · 2 years ago

Text

Tata Altroz - The Next Generation Hatchback with Style and Substance

Tata Motors has been at the forefront of the Indian automobile industry for decades. The company has been known for launching cars that are high on quality, technology, and style.

The latest addition to Tata's portfolio is the Altroz, a premium hatchback that is poised to take the market by storm. With its sleek design, state-of-the-art features, and impressive performance, the Altroz is a game-changer in the hatchback segment.

Tata Altroz is a new-generation hatchback from the house of Tata Motors. This stylish and feature-packed vehicle was launched in January 2020 and quickly garnered the attention of the Indian automotive market.

The Altroz has been developed on a completely new platform, making it the first car in India to be based on the ALFA (Agile Light Flexible Advanced) architecture. This innovative platform not only enhances the car's safety but also makes it lighter, more fuel-efficient, and nimble.

Visit Our Tata Car Showroom in Chennai Today and Buy your favorite Tata Car Models @ Lakshmi Tata Chennai.

The Altroz was first showcased at the 2019 Geneva Motor Show, where it garnered a lot of attention from industry experts and automobile enthusiasts.

The car is based on Tata's ALFA (Agile Light Flexible Advanced) platform, which is a modular platform that can be used to build different types of vehicles. The Altroz is the first car to be built on this platform, and it is set to become the flagship model of Tata Motors.

Visit Us Today!!!

Book your favorite Tata Altroz Car Now!!!

The Altroz is a stylish car that is designed to appeal to the modern Indian customer. The car has a sharp, aerodynamic look that gives it a sporty feel.

The front of the car features a sleek grille and sharp headlamps that are integrated with LED daytime running lights. The side profile of the car is dominated by a bold character line that runs from the front fender to the rear.

The car also features blacked-out B-pillars that give it a floating roofline. The rear of the car features LED tail lamps that are connected by a blacked-out strip that runs across the boot lid.

The Altroz is available in five different variants – XE, XM, XT, XZ, and XZ(O). Each variant comes with a different set of features, and customers can choose the variant that best suits their needs and budget.

The XE variant is the base model, and it comes with features like power windows, central locking, and dual airbags.

The XM variant adds features like a music system, electrically adjustable mirrors, and a rear defogger.

The XT variant comes with features like automatic climate control, a touchscreen infotainment system, and alloy wheels.

The XZ variant adds features like a rearview camera, leather-wrapped steering wheel, and LED fog lamps. The top-of-the-line XZ(O) variant comes with features like a sunroof, leather seats, and ambient lighting.

The Altroz is powered by a choice of two engines – a 1.2-liter petrol engine and a 1.5-liter diesel engine. The petrol engine produces 85 bhp and 113 Nm of torque, while the diesel engine produces 90 bhp and 200 Nm of torque.

Both engines are mated to a 5-speed manual transmission, and there is no automatic transmission option available as of yet. The Altroz is also equipped with a drive mode selector, which allows the driver to switch between City and Eco modes depending on the driving conditions.

Get in touch with us Today!!!

Buy Your Favorite Tata Altroz Car from Lakshmi Tata Showroom in Chennai.

Book your Test Drive Today!!!

The Altroz has a spacious and well-designed interior that is loaded with features. The car features a dual-tone dashboard with a floating touchscreen infotainment system that is compatible with Android Auto and Apple CarPlay.

The car also comes with a 7-inch digital instrument cluster that displays important information like speed, fuel level, and distance to empty. The seats are comfortable and supportive, and the car offers ample legroom and headroom for both front and rear passengers. The boot space is also generous, with 345 liters of space available for luggage.

One of the standout features of the Altroz is its safety features. The car comes with dual airbags, ABS with EBD, rear parking sensors, and a rearview camera as standard across all variants.

The Tata Altroz has a unique and futuristic design that sets it apart from other hatchbacks in the Indian market.

The car's sharp lines, edgy creases, and bold grille give it a muscular and aggressive look. The Altroz's aerodynamic design reduces drag and improves the car's stability at high speeds. The car's sharp and sporty appearance is enhanced by the dual-tone paint job and the blacked-out roof, which gives the car a premium and sophisticated look.

The Altroz's interior is equally impressive, featuring a premium and spacious cabin that is loaded with features. The car's dashboard has a sleek and futuristic design, with a floating touchscreen infotainment system that supports Android Auto and Apple CarPlay.

The Altroz's instrument cluster is a fully digital display that provides all the necessary information about the car's performance and features.

The Altroz also comes with a range of convenience features such as automatic climate control, keyless entry, push-button start, and power-adjustable ORVMs.

The Altroz's seats are well-cushioned and comfortable, providing excellent support and comfort even during long drives. The car's rear seats are spacious and provide ample legroom and headroom, making it ideal for families. The Altroz's boot space is also impressive, offering 345 liters of storage capacity, which can be further expanded by folding down the rear seats.

The Tata Altroz is powered by two engine options: a 1.2-liter petrol engine and a 1.5-liter diesel engine. The petrol engine produces a maximum power of 86 PS and a peak torque of 113 Nm, while the diesel engine produces a maximum power of 90 PS and a peak torque of 200 Nm. Both engines are mated to a 5-speed manual gearbox.

The Altroz's petrol engine delivers a mileage of 19.05 km/l, while the diesel engine delivers a mileage of 25.11 km/l.

Book Your Test Drive Now!!!

The Altroz's suspension setup is tuned to offer a comfortable and stable ride even on rough roads. The car's handling is precise and responsive, with well-weighted steering that offers excellent feedback to the driver. The Altroz's brakes are also impressive, with good stopping power and progressive pedal feel.

Tata Altroz Car is a Leading Hatchback Car in Tata Car Models.

The car has a bold and striking design, with a sleek profile and a sporty front grille. It is available in both petrol and diesel engine options, and comes with a choice of manual and automatic transmissions.

The Altroz also features advanced safety features, such as dual front airbags, ABS with EBD, rear parking sensors, and a reverse camera. “ It also has a 5-star Global NCAP safety rating “.

Inside, the car is equipped with a range of comfort and convenience features, including a touchscreen infotainment system with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, automatic climate control, and a premium sound system.

Overall, the Tata Altroz is a stylish and practical hatchback car that offers excellent performance, safety, and features, making it a popular choice among car buyers in India.

Visit Lakshmi Tata Chennai Now!!!

Get in touch with us Today!!!

Buy your favorite Tata Altroz Car for your Family and Friends.

0 notes

bijoumikhawal · 3 years ago

Text

RE: my assertions regarding the Jem'hadar origins, these are all quotes from the alpha canon wiki

"Wolfe was even aware of some backstory explaining what had happened to the Jem'Hadar prior to this. "I think we all agreed that the Jem'Hadar were originally like the Mongols," he remembered. "They were some incredibly nasty, conquering subculture on a world of their own, but without all the genetic engineering; they didn't grow up in three days and all that stuff. The Founders got a hold of them and said, 'We'll make you the ultimate killing machines, what do you think?' And they said 'YEAH!' They just volunteered."" The word Mongol is basically a flashing warning light to me that someone is racist at this point; this is a really disgusting and over simplistic view of Mongolians at any point in their history.

"The Jem'Hadar's strong sense of loyalty was based on historical examples. "We used the model of the Roman legionnaire. We also thought about the British soldiers in India, who were really just doing it for the Empire or the U.S. Green Berets. That was sort of our model," recalled Robert Wolfe. "We wanted to go for something we hadn't seen before in Star Trek, which was the consummate professional soldier."" To clarify this is not what I mean when I say they used some inspiration from Indian soldiers, I'm including it for completion.

"Another way the writers tried to differentiate the Jem'Hadar from most of the other major races in Star Trek was by deciding to make them drug addicts. The writers did so primarily to demonstrate that the Jem'Hadar were fundamentally violent and were only obedient to the Founders. (Star Trek: The Magazine Volume 1, Issue 13, p. 58) Ira Steven Behr remembered, "From the very beginning, when we first sat around and talked about the Jem'Hadar – even before we had a name for them – we talked about them being mercenary drug addicts." (Cinefantastique, Vol. 27, No. 4/5, p. 95) Behr continued, "We came to view them as junkies. We came to view them as slaves, as people who were almost not worthy of a name because there wasn't much personality difference between them." Consequently, Behr believed the Jem'Hadar were more like the Borg than the Klingons. He commented, "They were stripped of their humanity. Not because they were machines, but because the drug was their raison d'etre."" I don't like bioessentialism and this is a disgustingly unsympathetic view of enslaved persons.

"Whereas the typical science fiction attitude would have been to make the Jem'Hadar much less aggressive and no longer villainous or loyal to the Dominion if their addiction was broken, the DS9 creative team opted for a more unusual idea. "What we wanted to say was: 'If you break them of the addiction to the white, then you take away what little control anyone has over them, and they'll do what they always wanted to do, which is run around and kill everybody they can get to.' I'm not entirely sure that's just because of the genetic engineering," Wolfe mused. "I think the loyalty to the Founders was probably programmed in there, but I suspect they'd be difficult to reason with in any case."" Again: I don't like bioessentialism being treated as fact, especially not when applied to a fictional group that's racialized as nonwhite in multiple ways.

""We [the DS9 writing staff] named the Jem'Hadar together. We sat there with a 'Roget's Thesaurus' and looked under soldier. Jem'Hadar is a rank in the Indian army; it's first lieutenant or something like that." (Star Trek: The Magazine Volume 1, Issue 13, p. 57) In fact, the name of this species comes from Jemadar, an Urdu term for armed officials of the zamindars (lords) later adopted by the British as a military rank." This is what I mean when I mention the Indian soldier thing: I'm not a military history person nor am I especially well versed in Indian military history specifically, but Jemadar/Jamadar to my knowledge was not held by British officers, it was a rank for Indian soldiers before, during, and a little bit after British Imperial rule.

Anyway I'm going to remember the content but try to once more forget the specific wording of these quotes like I did last time, and leave you with this final gem and invitation to join my campaign to ban white people from writing Star Trek:

"Fellow writing staffer Peter Allan Fields disapproved of the name, commenting it "sounds like 'mah-jongg,' or some kind of card game!""

#Cipher talk #Ds9 #Jem'hadar

89 notes · View notes

miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years ago

Text

The Joan Jett Quartet

Part 3: Cherrybomb (Klaus x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: NC-17 FILTHY! Light bondage, oral (fem receiving), pegging, use of sex toys, language, consensual rough sex, voyeurism

A/N: It had been so long since you and Klaus played your dirty little game of give and take. And The Prophet was yours for the taking.

Part 1 Part 2

Dedicated, as always, with love to my most fatastic ride or die @robertsheehanownsmyass And also @slutforrobbiebro and @frogs--are--bitches

You adjusted the straps and hoped what was inside your linen pants was concealed just enough. At least until you were ready.

You took a few hours getting used to this appendage that hung between your legs. It was in the way for most everything you participated in during the day. So you stood with your legs further apart, or sat that way as well. You tried desperately not to reach down and adjust yourself for fear others might figure it out.

Suddenly, Klaus was beside you as you looked out over the swimming pool. He loomed so large over the Children, but could be completely human with you. That scent of hibiscus, gin and hookah smoke filled your nostrils as he wrapped you up in his arms.

“Jill is worried about you, little chicken.” Klaus used that stupid name from the night he punished you for insubordination. A pet name, one of endearment. Yet it had been so long since the two of you played.

“I'm fine,” You weren't. This.. thing in your pants was annoying. You had grown into it at least.

“She said you were walking funny?” his voice lifted at the end. “I can't imagine why. You've not needed to be disciplined in a while” It was if he read your mind. “I’d like to think I'm being gentle.” His face got lost in your hair and took a deep breath.

Klaus was telling the truth. These days, or nights, or warm afternoons, you made more love than fucked. He became almost obsessed with looking at you. Wanting a connection with someone to the point where he wouldn't pull out until well after he came. He would beg to be inside of you a little longer. If only you knew why YOU were Klaus’s special choice.

You pushed into him a bit with the curve of your ass. Klaus became instantly hard. A smirk played on your lips knowing how much control you had of the situation so quickly.

“Oh you have been, but I know you have certain appetites. As lovely as it's been, I can totally see in your eyes that flash of ‘please punish me.’ Which is tempting because this ‘tantric, cum together, lemme go four hours before I get off’ shit you learned in India annoying. Mediate all you want, but if I got my hands around your throat and just,” you mimed strangling him. “You would explode right in the middle of your stupid breathing technique. Then I’d get some feeling back in my legs”

Klaus enveloped you. Instead of a lover’s embrace, he compressed your body as much as possible. The air rushed out of your lungs as he squeezed tight like a snake with a mouse. His strength always caught you by total surprise. One arm around your chest, the other your stomach as he held you vicelike. There was that power switch. He hated being bested.

“I know pain makes you wet too,” his voice snarled. His hand tried to grab your sex to prove a point, but he got a surprise instead. His entire hand enclosed around the shaft through the fabric of your clothes. “My what a nice cock you have.”

You reached a hand behind and dug your nails into his hard on. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

Klaus’s hold deflated but not his erection. You urged him to stroke the imitation between your legs like you were doing to his real one. Your palms moved in unison as your breath both began to hitch. He tugged when you did, your bodies moving in a strange dance on the stone terrace.

Klaus turned your head sideways so he could get his tongue far inside your mouth. Fighting and doing a dance with yours while you gained speed with your hand.

“I bet you’re not even that good at sucking dick,” you broke the kiss to toss the insult over your shoulder.

You spun around and fought to take the wheel back. You reached inside and sunk your claws into Klaus’s balls. The only way you could think of bringing him to his knees as he winced with pain. Yet somehow grew even more stiff as he knelt down before you.

“Is this what we look like from up here?” Your fingers began to ravel around the hair on the back of his head. You yanked it so he was made to look at you. “eager to please the prophet with our mouths full. They're always begging you to speak, but choking themselves on your dick.”

Klaus put his hands on your hips. One of them inched under your shirt. He drew your hips towards his face and kissed your stomach. You let out a sigh before he released the imitation cock you wore.

Klaus was tentative about the way he licked at it. Just the tip of his tongue at first, darting in and out over the head. Then he sucked on it, took more of the shaft in his mouth. His head began to bob down towards your pelvis and back. The way he swallowed it as much as he could while he held tight to your ass. He alternated between long licks up the side and consuming it whole.

“It's a fucking shame I can't feel this. Doesn’t mean I don't want you to gag any less than you made me.”

Your hips thrust with a certainty that Klaus could feel the tip at the back of his throat. He was soundless though save for the soft sucking sounds. You started to fuck his mouth. The way he and other men had done to you. Your hips pumped back and forth. How much was enough when you couldn't climax like a man?

In a moment of clairvoyance, Klaus dragged his mouth backwards so that the imitation cock was slowly revealed. There was a satisfactory sound like yanking a suction cup off a surface. He gazed up at you with large green eyes silently asking you to further command him. Your fingers seizing his thick tresses so he couldn't look anywhere but you.

“How many nights have you worried about these.. morons finding out you’re a fake? That you admitted to me you were fraudulent. I love a fucking secret, and that's such a big one you trust me with. Would be such a shame if they found out.”

“You can't do that,” Klaus sounded afraid.

Yet you weren't sure if he was playing along or truly scared you'd out him to the others. Something in the back of his pleading let you know he would be relieved. To cast off the shackles of these expectant leeches he created.

“You could expose yourself to them another way. How human you would finally seem getting fucked up the ass by one of them. Your chosen one.”

Klaus climbed to his feet and pulled his boots off. He clambered out of his jeans, after he undid his belt and tossed his shirt aside. He stood in only his underwear.

You arched an eyebrow. “It's so amazing to me you can fuck the way you do,” you pinched his lithe waist, “Seeing there's not much to you.” You got your nails into his chin and tilted his head to the side. You let them trace a line along his jawbone. “Fortunately you've got quite the face. No one cares about the proverbs you spew or diatribes you go on. It's how fucking otherworldly beautiful you are. Gorgeous enough to just ruin.”

Klaus took a breath and rolled his eyes. Your hand tightened around his throat. “Don't you remember how obstinance is rewarded? All that bullshit yoga, you ought to be flexible. Fucking bend over, and show me.” You reached for his belt. “What are you always saying to me when you want anal?” You mimicked his voice, ‘Let's see how tight that ass is?”

Not having to command, Klaus held his wrists out. “Why do you still have clothes on? Naked.”

He obeyed and stripped completely. Being without clothes wasn't that big a deal to Klaus. He walked around the compound nude all the time. There were days most of you did. It's the having no control over his situation that really left him naked.

You took his arms and held them behind his back. You looped the belt around and hooked it through the buckle. You pulled the strap as tight as possible so that Klaus’s wrists were bound. His stance was wide legged, cock completely erect.

“Bend. over.”

And like Klaus had done to you when he assessed your body, you stood beside him and bent his body. His back flat like a table. You ran your hand along his tanned skin and spine before seizing his cock again.

“I lied. I might be a little.. terse with you, but I don't think I'm cruel,” you tapped your chin but kept Klaus’s erection firmly in your grasp. “I forgot something that MIGHT make fucking you a bit easier. You aren't exactly in a state to run to the house. So how about you fuck me first. With your mouth of course.”

You pushed Klaus’s head down to indicate he should kneel. Arms bound behind his back, he eagerly complied.

He sat back on his haunches to watch you undress. You wore only the strap on, which was lifted up to expose your cunt. Then you anchored yourself on Klaus’s shoulders. His mouth deftly finding your quick-swelling lips so his tongue could dart out. He probed you by pushing his tongue deep and forcing an instant slick from within.

You moaned. Klaus’s body twisted at an odd angle to get further inside of you. He lapped and flicked at you while searching for that bud of nerves and maintained his silence. There was a soft growl or two as he expertly worked your clit. Klaus circled it, tilted his head enough to run his tongue along you as you started to throb. He moved at a breakneck speed, one you never experienced from him before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as you reached to help Klaus along. Your fingers separated your slit so he had easier access to your clit now. Your hips rocked into him as you rode his face. Your balance lost a time or two but you steadied yourself in your abandon.

The two of you were so brazen in the setting sun. On the terrace knowing followers were around to catch or watch. Klaus with his wrists strapped by a belt. You wearing a fake dick, fucking his face. Your heart and cunt raced together as you started to spark. The fuse began to catch in the center of your body and suddenly it exploded with sparks as you came. Crying out unexpectedly so that your voice echoed off the stone.

“Fuck. What comes out of your mouth is sometimes so cliché, but the things you let me put in it.”

You fumbled around with the fake cock so that you could shift it towards your body. Klaus sat back and watched. His mouth and chin glistened with your orgasm which he surreptitiously attempted to lick from his lips. The devil in his eyes as he kept his composure.

“I don't think you have ever been this quiet in the two years I've been here.”

You situated the rubber dick enough to plunge it into yourself almost fully. It slid in with ease and out a few times. You repeated this enough to get it as lubricant as possible. Then wrapped your fingers in Klaus’s hair to yank him into position again.

“When I fuck you, I want you to tell me how good it feels.”

Your hand was on the tip of the cock to center it between Klaus’s ass. Your other wrapped up in the leather strap to help pull his hips towards you as you slowly plunged inside of him.

“Further,” Klaus managed around the air he finally released from his lungs.

“That wasn’t loud enough,” you informed him. You had his forearms in each hand as you sunk in more.

“Harder!” Klaus raised his voice more. “Fuck me.”

You tugged him backwards by the arms so that the strap on was sheathed by Klaus’s body. He yelled out in shock, so you hesitated in case..

“Fuck me. Hard. I want to feel your hips against my ass.” Klaus begged. He had his neck curved so that his head was facing up. And angle that would catch passersby.

You used Klaus’s arms as leverage. Creating a push and pull as you began slamming into him. How often did he rut against you like an animal when you got fucked from behind. Now you returned the favor.

It wasn't long before Klaus started to make an animal noise each time your pelvis crashed into his ass. Your nails clawed at his arms and tied wrists while you started to jerk your hips like you knew he did. Short bursts then pulled almost out and jerked back in.

“That feels so fucking good,” Klaus’s words were punctuated by your thrusts.

You weren't sure how much longer you could stand. You knew from Klaus that men got off differently this way than women. Parts of him inside were like a clit, but like you he maybe needed manual stimulation too. So you bent over him. You bit his back in the realm of playful crossed with marking your territory as you turned to jerking him off simultaneously.

“Holy shit!” Klaus yelled out. You were so lost in making him cum that you didn't realize he wasn't referring to your hands and dick.

Your gazed matched his to catch slack jawed followers on the sidewalk and patio on the upper level. Some curious, others blazed green with envy as you became theatrical with your fucking. The two of you looking them all dead on.

“What’s wrong?!” Klaus shouted in their direction. “Haven't you ever seen a prophet get ass fucked by someone?! And don't stop, I'm gonna cum.”

You trained your eyes on everyone, and stood. Your hands firmly on Klaus’s arms once more as you buried yourself into him one more time. His body arched and exploded. The sticky substance managed to cover his chest and stomach.

You situated yourself and took the strap-on off. Klaus straightened his body so that he was at his full height. He contorted enough to break free from the belt constraints. His body shook ever so slightly from the orgasm effects while he lifted your palm to his mouth and kissed it. Then bent to kiss you, tongue far inside your mouth. You could taste your cunt on his lips as you danced with him.

“This is what happens, Children, when you become my Chosen One!”

You let a selfish grin play across your lips in response.

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @firstpersonnarrator @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @rob-private @forenschik @magic-multicolored-miracle

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader smut #klaus x reader

106 notes · View notes

madmaudlingoes · 5 years ago

Text

Sewing Your Own Face Mask (Or Wearing A Cloth Mask)

I’m gonna use this post to consolidate what I know about cloth face masks (making or wearing) because I am making myself crazy looking at different proposals and arguments and research. Under a cut so I can keep the post up-to-date without spreading misinfo.

Question: what’s the point of wearing a mask?

Masks of any kind do two things: prevent the wearer from inhaling germs, and prevent the wearer from exhaling germs.

Healthcare workers need masks that will prevent them from getting sick while they treat the sick: that’s why they’ve been desperate to collect N95 masks and face shields. If you’re not a healthcare worker, isolation and social distancing are better ways to avoid being exposed to germs than masking in public. Of course, not everybody can isolate right now -- people still gotta work, gotta buy groceries, gotta use public transit, etc. -- so going out in a mask is a decent compromise.

On the other hand, if you know or strongly suspect you’ve been exposed, wearing a mask can help you avoid infecting others. (This is how masking became a norm in Asian countries long before the coronavirus pandemic.) Again, carriers really shouldn’t be venturing out of isolation at all, but if you can’t avoid it, masking up can minimize the danger you pose to others.

As of 4/3, the Centers for Disease Control recommends that everyone wear a mask when they leave the house.

Update 6/1: As states “re-open,” requirements for face coverings in public may be dropped, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop wearing one. Especially if you’re attending a protest (crowds, lots of chanting/yelling), a mask can still keep you safe.

Question: how well do cloth masks work?

The evidence on this is pretty meh. The US Centers for Disease Control has said, “Any mask is better than no mask,” but studies have shown that cloth masks are strictly inferior to single-use medical masks when it comes to preventing the wearer from getting sick. Some reasons why:

Cloth masks are often made from materials that don’t trap tiny particles as effectively.This video explains how single-use masks work, and why woven material doesn’t work as well as the non-woven polymers that are normally used for medical masks.

Cloth masks absorb and retain moisture more than single-use masks, which reduces their efficacy over time. A study from India found that cloth masks and single-use masks both lose efficacy after two continuous hours, and another study in Vietnam found a single cloth mask worn throughout an eight-hour shift actually performed worse than single-use masks, and possibly even worse than no mask at all.

Cloth masks, depending on their design, may not fit snugly or smoothly, resulting in gaps that permit unfiltered air through. A recent study from Northeastern University in Boston found that pulling a nylon stocking over your mask-- not your whole head, we’re not robbing banks -- could significantly improve the effectiveness of any cloth mask, and even single-use surgical masks, by keeping everything snug.

A wonky mask might also cause you to touch your face more trying to adjust it, resulting in contamination.

Wearers may not be cleaning cloth masks effectively between uses, or may be cross-contaminating their hands when removing a used mask. See “How do I wear a cloth mask?” below.

So a cloth mask is a last resort when isolation isn’t an option and single-use masks aren’t available. As of 6/1, the US is still facing shortages of single-us PPE thanks to mismanagement by the Trump administration, and as states “re-open” the demand for masks will start to increase again.

Question: If cloth masks aren’t effective, why bother with them?

Some healthcare facilities have asked for donations of cloth masks in order to stretch their supply of single-use masks because, as stated above, we’re running out of supplies. Some other orgs (from nursing homes to animal shelters to police forces) have been asking for mask donations to conserve single-use masks for healthcare workers. For most people going out in our daily lives, a reusable cloth mask is more cost-effective than running through boxes of disposables, especially if we’re also doing what we can to avoid high-risk acitivies.

Question: What’s the best material to make a mask out of?

Research by Davies et al (2013) compared several different materials for DIY masking. Two factors are in play: how well does the material trap germ-sized particles, and how well can the wearer breath while wearing it? For example, vacuum bags are great for filtering tiny particles, but turned out to be uncomfortable and difficult to breath through, while woven silk was very breathable but a poor filter. (Some 3D printed masks that are currently circulating could give you fatal CO2 poisoning.)

The Davies papers’ recommendations were cotton knits (like a medium-weight t-shirt) or tightly woven cotton cloth (like a high thread-count pillowcase). More layers isn’t necessarily better, but most patterns in circulation use at least two. Some also incorporate a filter of some kind, either removable or sewn into the mask.

Knit fabric is tricky to sew, especially if you’re a beginner, but the trade-off is that a mask made with knit can achieve a snugger fit. Woven cloth is easier to work with, but the resulting mask may require more tailoring to avoid gaps. If you have a choice, use plain, light-colored fabrics so it’s easier to see stains or wet spots. (Also, frankly, a mask sanitized with bleach regularly won’t retain color for long.) Some hospitals are recommending using two fabric colors if you can, to ensure you can tell the “inside” and “outside” apart easily, but if you don’t have that much fabric laying around, use what you got.

To secure the mask, narrow (1/8 - 1/2 inch) elastic bands are common, but these can pull hair/rub skin. Woven elastic in this size is also getting hard to source, and may contain latex, which is an allergy risk. Consider instead making ties from bias tape or twill tape; narrow strips of sewn fabric; a clean shoelace; or narrow grosgrain ribbon (the kind with ridges).

Some mask designs include a pocket for inserting a separate filter, which improves their protective power. Good ideas for a filter:

Quilt batting or interfacing (Fusible interfacing may help make knits more workable, at the cost of their stretch.)

Extra layers of cloth

shop towels made from microfiber or “hydro-knit” material

Bad ideas for filters include vaccuum bags (not breathable, may contain fiberglass) and cut-up N95 masks (why???). And if you’re making masks primarily for personal use on short trips out, you probably don’t need a filter anyway, though Mueller and Fernandez (2020) found that cotton masks with a filter + a nylon stocking over the top actually approached the protective power of a single-use mask.

Question: What pattern should I use?

If you’re making masks for donation, use whatever pattern is requested. If you’re making them for personal use, or for donation to an org that hasn’t given any guidance, here are some ideas:

New: The Clover Mask is a hybrid of several of the designs below, designed by the MakeMasks.Org Slack. Intermediate difficulty.

Erin’s Mask, based on a design developed by Dr. Chen Xiaoting of Taiwan. Erin tweaked the pattern and converted it to US measurements for those of us allergic to metric. This mask has a pocket for a filter and can be made with either elastic or a fabric tie to secure. Intermediate difficulty.

Cynthia’s Mask does not have a filter pocket and uses twill tape or ribbon for tie-backs. Probably the easiest on the list.

John Hopkins Medicine has also produced a mask pattern pretty much the same as Cynthia’s. So has Kaiser Permanente, which also made a helpful video if you’re not used to making pleats.

The Aries 2.0 Mask is being produced en masse by volunteers in St. Louis, which is where I’m based. It’s more complicated than Cynthia’s mask, and has a filter pocket like Erin’s mask, using curved pieces instead of pleats to achieve a good fit. Intermediate difficulty.

Some additional options, which have been less popular than the above:

The Turban Project Mask has been promoted by Deaconess Medical Center in Evansville, Indiana. It uses elastic and has no filter pocket. Just as easy as Cynthia’s mask, but the ear loop design may be less comfortable and some people have reported shortages of elastic.

The A.B. Mask is designed to be worn over an N95 mask, to extend its lifespan, or by itself. It uses cloth ties. It’s the most complex pattern to sew on this list, with darts and seam binding, but was designed by a nurse.

The Fu Mask from Freesewing uses curved pieces like the Aries mask, but has no filter pocket, which makes me a little more leery of the big center seam.

The Olson Mask has a filter pocket and uses regular hair ties for fasteners.

If you don’t sew at all, this mask can be folded from one sheet of cut cloth. A silky scarf might not be optimal material (see above re: material types) but a cotton bandana or a “fat quarter” of quilting cotton is almost the same size. If you’re using cut fabric, you could just tape or whipstitch the raw edges so it’ll survive the washing machine.

There are a ton of Facebook groups, Discords, etc. with suggestions on how to tweak these masks for best fit or greater comfort. One common hack is putting a length of pip cleaner or floral wire in the upper seam, to help the mask conform around the bridge of your nose. Be cautious when washing a mask with a built-in wire, because it might rust; the Aries 2.0 mask has a sleeve so the wire can be removed for cleaning.

Question: how should I wear/clean a cloth mask?

Depending on the mask, you might secure the mask behind your head or over your ears, either with elastic bands or cloth ties. Make sure you’re breathing primarily though the mask, and not around the sides, even when you turn your head or talk. (This might require some tweaking of your pattern.) This NYT piece has illustrations of how the mask should sit -- over your nose and under your chin, snug to your cheeks on both sides. If you can’t click through, @theexoticvet has posted the images here.

(Note: an N95 mask can’t make a tight seal over facial hair, but a cloth mask doesn’t seal even on a smooth face. So don’t fret about your beard making your cloth mask useless -- just make sure it’s pulled snug all the way around.)

Studies suggest a fabric mask is useful for two hours, max, or until your breath makes it noticeably damp. When you remove the mask, grasp it by the ties, loops or edges. Don’t touch the part that covers your nose or mouth, because that’s where germs have accumulated. If there’s a removable filter inside, wash your hands thoroughly after removing it, and then wash the mask.

Research shows the novel coronavirus can persist ~24 hours on a cardboard surface, but not necessarily how long it survives on/in cloth. Also, leaving a potentially contaminated mask laying around is probably not a good idea. So, to clean your mask:

Hand-wash with hot water and soap, at a minimum.

Boiling the mask for ~10 minutes should kill just about anything, but don’t just drop it in the pot and forget it -- you should keep stirring/agitating the water so it thoroughly penetrates all layers.

Add 1 T (15 ml) of bleach to 1 gallon (3.8 L) of cold water and soak your mask for 15-30 minutes. Then rinse thoroughly with hot water. Over-bleaching will degrade the fabric and make the mask less effective.

If you have access to a washing machine and/or a tumble dryer with a “sanitize” setting, use that. Otherwise use the hottest settings each one has.

If you have to air-dry your mask, make sure it’s completely dry before you use it again.

Question: How can I make masks to donate?

As of 6/1, mask donations are ramping down as the supply chain for both conventional PPE and reusable masks has stabilized. Most people and orgs can now buy reusable masks if they want them. On the other hand, some people can’t afford to buy a mask, so homeless shelters, food pantries and crisis nurseries may still be taking donations. Activist groups planning protests may also be looking for masks to distribute at their events.

Donations are being coordinated on a Make Masks Slack channel, at #MasksNOW, or at RosieSews.org. You can also text “masks” to ResistBot (50409) to find out how to help get PPE to healthcare workers who need it. Also try a Facebook search for “Million Mask Mayday” + your state, as the original Million Mask Mayday site was overwhelmed.

Check one of these spots or contact a local org BEFORE you sew a bunch of stuff, to ensure you’re matching their needs. Just dropping off a bunch of masks off randomly to a group that doesn’t even need them isn’t helping anybody.

If you initiate contact with a facility or org, ask them a) are they taking donations, and b) do they have specific needs regarding size, materials, or construction.

Also ask about whether the masks need to be sanitized before donation (use one of the methods above) and how donations should be delivered in light of social distancing recommendations.

257 notes · View notes

newstfionline · 3 years ago

Text

Monday, May 17, 2021

Colonial shutdown shows how Americans pay the price of efficiency (Washington Post) The drivers stuck in gas lines after the Colonial Pipeline shutdown, the Texans freezing in their homes after the February grid collapse, the Californians sweltering through their own power failures last summer—all were paying the unintended and unexpected price of efficiency. The market-driven energy sector has spent a decade or more cutting costs, streamlining and digitizing. Four big oil refineries have shut down in Pennsylvania and New Jersey since 2010 because it’s cheaper to bring in gasoline by pipeline from the Gulf Coast, 1,500 miles away—as long as that pipeline stays in operation. Texas and California have driven the price of electricity down by throwing out the old regulatory structure—the structure that made sure utilities earned enough to invest in backup resources. In the name of efficiency, “resilience was assumed,” said Daniel Yergin, a historian and author of “The New Map: Energy, Climate, and the Clash of Nations.” But even as American fossil fuel producers proudly declared the country to be energy independent once more in recent years, the energy sector has stripped redundancy out of its systems, at the risk of leaving customers in the lurch when things go wrong. Some companies have declined to take the precautions needed to survive the unexpected, whether it’s bad weather or a cyberattack.

Police in Cities Across U.S. Brace for a Violent Summer (WSJ) Police departments in New York City and other large metro areas across the U.S. are bulking up patrols and implementing new tactics to prepare for what they say could be a violent summer. States lifting Covid-19 restrictions and more people out in public spaces in warmer weather increase the likelihood of more shootings, as well as less-serious crimes, officials say. Many crimes, including violent ones, normally rise in summer. Gun purchases also rose during the pandemic and cities have seen an increase in guns being used in crimes. Shootings and homicides in big U.S. cities are up this year again after rising last year. In the last three months of 2020, homicides rose 32.2% in cities with a population of at least one million, according to the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Quarterly Uniform Crime Report. In New York City, the number of homicides has reached 146 for the year so far, an increase of 27% from 115 during the same period in 2020. In Dallas, police have counted 75 homicides this year, up from 58 during the same period last year. Chicago police have recorded 195 homicides, up from 160 in the year-ago period.

Tensions Among Democrats Grow Over Israel as the Left Defends Palestinians (NYT) With violence in Israel and the Palestinian territories forcing the issue back to the forefront of American politics, divisions between the leadership of the Democratic Party and the activist wing have burst into public view. While the Biden administration is handling the growing conflict as a highly sensitive diplomatic challenge involving a longstanding ally, the ascendant left views it as a searing racial justice issue that is deeply intertwined with the politics of the United States. For those activists, Palestinian rights and the decades-long conflict over land in the Middle East are linked to causes like police brutality and conditions for migrants at the U.S.-Mexico border. Party activists who fight for racial justice now post messages against the “colonization of Palestine” with the hashtag #PalestinianLivesMatter. With President Biden in the White House, traditional U.S. support for Israel is hardly in question from a policy perspective; he has made his support for the country clear throughout his nearly 50 years in public life. Still, the terms of the debate are shifting in Democratic circles. On Thursday, a group of leading progressive members of Congress offered a rare break from party unity, giving fiery speeches on the House floor that accused Mr. Biden of ignoring the plight of Palestinians and “taking the side of the occupation.” Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York directly challenged the president, who had asserted that Israel had a right to defend itself. “Do Palestinians have a right to survive?” she asked in an impassioned address. “Do we believe that? And if so, we have a responsibility to that as well.” “The base of the party is moving in a very different direction than where the party establishment is,” James Zogby said. “If you support Black Lives Matter, it was not a difficult leap to saying Palestinian lives matter, too.”

Bleak futures fuel widespread protests by young Colombians (AP) Thousands of young people and college students have been at the forefront of Colombia’s antigovernment protests for more than two weeks, armed with improvised shields made from garbage cans and umbrellas. They have taken the brunt of the tear gas and gunshots from security forces, and dozens have paid for it with their lives. The young men and women have become the voices for Colombians fed up with a government they say has mismanaged the coronavirus pandemic and crushed hopes of a better future. “To a large extent, we found that there was no fear of death. Sometimes it is the only thing that remains when the system is starving us and there are no opportunities,” said Yonny Rojas, a 36-year-old law student who also runs soup kitchens in one of the poorest areas of Cali, the city where the government response has been especially violent.

Pandemic triggers new crisis in Peru: lack of cemetery space (AP) After Joel Bautista died of a heart attack last month in Peru, his family tried unsuccessfully to find an available grave at four different cemeteries. After four days, they resorted to digging a hole in his garden. The excavation in a poor neighborhood in the capital city of Lima was broadcast live on television, attracting the attention of authorities and prompting them to offer the family a space on the rocky slopes of a cemetery. The same plight is shared by other families across Peru. After struggling to control the coronavirus pandemic for more than a year, the country now faces a parallel crisis: a lack of cemetery space. The problem affects everyone, not just relatives of COVID-19 victims, and some families have acted on their own, digging clandestine graves in areas surrounding some of Lima’s 65 cemeteries. The desperate lack of options comes as the country endures its deadliest period of the pandemic yet. More than 64,300 people who tested positive for COVID-19 have died in Peru, according to the Health Ministry, but that figure is almost certainly an undercount. A vital records agency estimates that the true figure is more than 174,900, counting those whose possible infection was not confirmed by a test.

UK readies for major reopening but new variant sparks worry (AP) Travelers in England were packing their bags, bartenders were polishing their glasses and performers were warming up as Britain prepared Sunday for a major step out of lockdown—but with clouds of worry on the horizon. Excitement at the reopening of travel and hospitality vied with anxiety that a more contagious virus variant first found in India is spreading fast and could delay further plans to reopen. On Monday, people in England will be able to eat a restaurant meal indoors, drink inside a pub, go to a museum, hug friends and visit one another’s homes for the first time in months. A ban on overseas holidays is also being lifted, with travel now possible to a short list of countries with low infection rates. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are following similar but slightly different reopening paths.

Turkey eases COVID-19 restrictions but keeps many curfews (AP) Turkey’s interior ministry on Sunday lifted a full lockdown that had ordered people to stay home to fight COVID-19 infections, shifting to a less-restrictive program that still involved curfews on weeknights and weekends. Shopping malls will be able to reopen. Some businesses will remain closed, including gyms and cafes, but restaurants will be able to offer take away in addition to delivery. Preschools will resume in-person education but upper grades will continue remote learning. Turks can return to their workplaces but will have to stay home from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. on weekdays and all day Saturday and Sunday, with the exception of walking to a market to buy food. Civil servants will continue working remotely or in shifts in offices. Foreign tourists and workers with special permits are exempt.

Syria’s Surprising Solar Boom: Sunlight Powers the Night in Rebel Idlib (NYT) When the Syrian government attacked their village, Radwan al-Shimali’s family hastily threw clothes, blankets and mattresses into their truck and sped off to begin new lives as refugees, leaving behind their house, farmland and television. Among the belongings they kept was one prized technology: the solar panel now propped up on rock next to the tattered tent they call home in an olive grove near the village of Haranabush in northwestern Syria. “It is important,” Mr. al-Shimali said of the 270-watt panel, his family’s sole source of electricity. “When there is sun during the day, we can have light at night.” An unlikely solar revolution of sorts has taken off in an embattled, rebel-controlled pocket of northwestern Syria, where large numbers of people whose lives have been upended by the country’s 10-year-old civil war have embraced the sun’s energy simply because it is the cheapest source of electricity around. Solar panels, big and small, old and new, are seemingly everywhere in Idlib Province along Syria’s border with Turkey. “There is no alternative,” said Akram Abbas, a solar panel importer in the town of al-Dana. “Solar energy is a blessing from God.”

India to start evacuating parts of west coast as cyclone approaches (Reuters) India is preparing to evacuate thousands of people from low-lying areas along its western coast as a powerful cyclone is expected to make landfall on Tuesday morning in the state of Gujarat. Cyclone Tauktae, which formed in the Arabian sea, is expected to cross Gujarat with wind gusts of up to 175 kmph (109 mph) and is expected to make landfall in the state the following morning. The meteorological agency warned that there could be destruction of houses and flooding of escape routes. Disruption to railway services was also expected until May 21.

Israel stages new round of heavy airstrikes on Gaza City (AP) The Israeli military unleashed a wave of heavy airstrikes on the Gaza Strip early Monday, saying it destroyed 15 kilometers (nine miles) of militant tunnels and the homes of nine alleged Hamas commanders. Residents of Gaza awakened by the overnight barrage described it as the heaviest since the war began a week ago, and even more powerful than a wave of airstrikes in Gaza City the day before that left 42 dead and flattened three buildings. There was no immediate word on the casualties from the latest strikes. A three-story building in Gaza City was heavily damaged, but residents said the military warned them 10 minutes before the strike and everyone cleared out. Gaza’s mayor Yahya Sarraj told Al-Jazeera TV that the airstrikes had caused extensive damage to roads and other infrastructure. He also warned that the territory was running low on fuel and other spare parts. The U.N. has warned that Gaza’s sole power station is at risk of running out of fuel. The territory already experiences daily power outages of 8-12 hours and tap water is undrinkable.

Ethiopia again delays national election amid deadly tensions (AP) Ethiopia has again delayed its national election after some opposition parties said they wouldn’t take part and as conflict in the country’s Tigray region means no vote is being held there, further complicating Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s efforts to centralize power. The head of the national elections board, Birtukan Mideksa, in a meeting with political parties’ representatives on Saturday said the June 5 vote in Africa’s second most populous country would be postponed, citing the need to finish printing ballots, training staffers and compiling voters’ information. The board said she estimated a delay of two to three weeks.

Sharks use Earth’s magnetic field as a GPS, scientists say (AP) Sharks use the Earth’s magnetic field as a sort of natural GPS to navigate journeys that take them great distances across the world’s oceans, scientists have found. Researchers said their marine laboratory experiments with a small species of shark confirm long-held speculation that sharks use magnetic fields as aids to navigation—behavior observed in other marine animals such as sea turtles. The study sheds light on why sharks are able to traverse seas and find their way back to feed, breed and give birth, said marine policy specialist Bryan Keller, one of the study authors. “We know that sharks can respond to magnetic fields,” Keller said. “We didn’t know that they detected it to use as an aid in navigation ... You have sharks that can travel 20,000 kilometers (12,427 miles) and end up in the same spot.”

#headlines #news

2 notes · View notes

everydayducksoup · 4 years ago

Text

Because I can finally post it: here’s my absolute shithouse off-my-ass this-is-secular-school-now-I-can-write-REAL-politics-into-my-work essay. “Who Gets Eaten and Who Gets to Eat: Morality and Socioeconomic Mobility in Aravind Adiga’s White Tiger and Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”

In a society where honest work just doesn’t cut it, there’s always murder- at least, for the protagonists of White Tiger and Sweeney Todd. Both works make use of fictional narratives and stylistic language to destabilize narratives of wealth as moral judgement and expose the forces in society which push individuals, especially amongst the lower class, into immoral action and emotional detachment in exchange for socioeconomic stability and advancement. With Adiga presenting the story of driver-turned-entrepreneur Balram Halwai, and Sondheim the Victorian English revenge drama of Sweeney Todd’s mass murder and cannibalistic enterprise, the ‘dark side’ of capitalism, justice, and class dynamics comes to light.

In his essay, “capitalism, caste and con-games in Aravind Adiga’s The White Tiger”, Snehal Shingavi presents us with two common narratives about poverty- where it is either “overcome by virtue of moral fineness (so that to be rich is to deserve) or by moral corruption (so that any upward mobility marks ethical opprobrium)”(Shingavi 7). However, neither of the works presented adhere to this conflation of wealth with morality, because they take a different look at the way our society works. In Sweeney Todd, it is constantly emphasized that vice and immorality are universal traits: in the song Epiphany, Todd sings “we all deserve to die/ even you Mrs. Lovett/ even I” (Sondheim 38), and similar judgements are made throughout the rest of the play. Meanwhile, The White Tiger expresses the opinion that goodwill is only an option for those with privilege- “here, if a man wants to be good, he can be good. In Laxamangarh, he doesn’t even have this choice.” (Adiga 262).

This decision to separate morality from the act of gaining capital does something incredibly important: it undermines the idea of the poor as apolitical or moralizing figures, establishing their autonomy. When we acknowledge this, we can more thoroughly experience the injustices that drive these characters to violent means. Both protagonists are literally denied justice- Todd is framed for a crime by Judge Turpin and sent to the penal colony as part of his plan to steal his wife, Lucy; and Balram is expected to take the blame for his master’s wife when she runs over a young child. The statues of law are shown to be ineffective within modern society due to class imbalance- the reality is, as Balram says, “the rule of the jungle”. Both protagonists take on cannibalism (one literally, the other figuratively) as their own brand of justice outside the system that has failed them. Sweeney and Lovett sing, in A Little Priest: “the history of the world my dear/…/is who gets eaten and who gets to eat”(Sondheim 48), while Balram expresses the new caste structure of postcolonial India as “there are just two castes: Men with Big Bellies, and Men with Small Bellies. And only two destinies: eat—or get eaten up.” (Adiga 54)

Rather than marking the distinction between rich and poor through morality, these works employ the binary of filth and cleanliness as a signifier of socioeconomic position. From the first, Todd describes the poor of London as “vermin” and claiming that the subjugation by the upper classes “(turn) beauty into filth and greed” (Sondheim 2). Similarly, Lovett’s introduction, The Worst Pies in London revolves entirely around the spectacle of how disgusting her situation is: “is that just revolting?” (Sondheim 9). This state of perpetual impurity is both a direct result of economic equality, and a contributing factor in its continuation. Adiga demonstrates the impact of cleanliness over filth by showing Balram successfully “passing” in middle-class society by copying his master’s habits- he stops chewing paan, starts brushing his teeth, dresses simply, changes his posture, and he is suddenly unrecognizable as the poor driver he still is. The authority given to anyone who can present well enough within the expectations of their society strips yet another layer from the connection between ethics and wealth- through appearances, Lovett’s pie shop is successful despite selling its clients human flesh. However, this effect is not only felt through the common motif of a façade, as it also serves to prove that the currency of this society is necessarily aggressive.

The White Tiger presents this struggle through the metaphor of the rooster coop:

“hundreds of pale hens and brightly colored roosters, stuffed tightly into wire-mesh cages…pecking each other and shitting on each other, jostling for breathing space…on the wooden desk above this coop sits a grinning young butcher, showing off the flesh and organs of a recently chopped-up chicken… the roosters in the coop smell the blood from above… they know they’re next.” (Adiga 147)

This analogy presents the inherent violence in the situation: if you are a poor rooster, no matter how much you preen your feathers or how peacefully you stand, your neighbors will only continue to peck at you and try to climb over you, and you will still be in line for the slaughter. If you are the rich butcher, the only way you can survive is to continue killing chickens, because that is your trade, regardless of how nicely you treat them, and if you let them out of the cage you lose it all. In order to gain power in this society, Shingavi points out, one must forsake both their origins, their emotional ties; and their morality, their societal ties. For Balram, this is the killing and torture of his family by the state, which relieves him of his caste; and the murder of Mr. Ashok, which relieves him of his servitude. For Todd, it is the knowledge that “Lucy lies in ashes” and he’ll “never see Johanna” (Sondheim 44); as well as his plan to murder the Judge. The disconnection of morality and capital allows for a system wherein justice is obtained through violence, the truth revealed through con-games, and social mobility and betterment come at the cost of human lives.

However, the values of the system do not reflect directly on the people within it- Balram, Todd and Lovett are still emotional, human figures, who have the capacity for grief and empathy. Both protagonists harbor a young boy throughout the course of the story- Balram his nephew Dharam and Lovett and Todd their young employee Toby- neither of which are related to their grander schemes. Both openly grapple with the loss of their familial connections, with Balram commenting “I’ve got no family anymore. All I’ve got are chandeliers” (Adiga 97) and Todd addressing a monologue to his lost daughter in the song Johanna (Quartet): “Goodbye, Johanna/ You're gone, and yet you're mine… And though I'll think of you, I guess/Until the day I die.” (Sondheim 63) The biggest distinction between the two works comes through this aspect: Balram succeeds in separating his personal life from his business and channeling the cold methods of the system even in his charity- giving bribes in exchange for the life of a young boy killed by one of his employees- while Lovett and Todd let their emotions drive them to ruin.

In his essay, “Mayhem and Morality in Sweeney Todd”, Alfred Mollin points out the way Sondheim uses musical references to demonstrate Todd’s descent into righteous rage and madness. The use of the music of the Dies Irae from the Requiem Mass, a piece which is immediately recognizable to a western audience as representing a sort of divine “judgement of the wicked and the good”(Mollin 3), shows that his intentions lie directly outside of the give-and-take of the system around him. In this sense, Balram’s parallel in the play is more in the character of Mrs. Lovett, who acknowledges the entrepreneurial potential of their situation and acts almost exclusively out of “thrift”- almost, because she is also in love with Todd. This affection goes directly against the preestablished tenant of the system, emancipation from emotional ties, and thus leads to their downfall. It is only fitting that Shingavi would refer to this tenant as a “murder”, as it is literally the realization that Lucy is alive, brought about in the third act of the play, that sets off the eventual demise of Lovett and Todd.

These narratives present the worst faces of our modern, heavily unequal society- the failures of justice, of capitalism, and even of human empathy. Through them, we can see past the façades imposed on daily life, worn by rich and poor alike in their pursuit of self-betterment. They express a more nuanced story of class inequality and the forces that control our society, recognizing that bringing about a just and fair environment is not a matter of taking out the boogeymen of billionaires or capitalism, but rather a process of unlearning and replacing systems that value aggression as social capital. The authors acknowledge the autonomy and potential for both good and evil present in each member of society and analyze how the world around it undermines them. These works remind us that- regardless of our personal stance or our actions- we function within the same cannibalistic system. Like the chickens pecking each other in the rooster coop or the public eating Mrs. Lovett’s pies- if we are not working to change the system, we are accomplices in this cannibalism.

#my writing

5 notes · View notes

ikementally-deficient · 5 years ago

Text

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 6: Chrysalis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Second to last chapter! Our first occasion of sex in the traditional penetrative sense, I’m so proud of them. One more to go; I might get it written this weekend if all goes well, but time is an illusion, productive time doubly so, so who knows.

Also of note: I finally managed to work in the prompt that started this whole mess!

*************************************

He can tell there’s been something on her mind. When they go out, she casts sideways glances at him, thinking him oblivious. She hesitates before taking his hand in public. She flinches every time another woman passes by.

“What’s on your mind,” he asks her over tea.

She flushes, her eyes skittering away from his steady gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He chuckles. “Of course you do.” He sips his tea, studying her over the rim of the cup. “You seem apprehensive, lately. Hesitant. As though you’re afraid you’re being watched, and judged.”

Her fingers fidget around the handle of her teacup. She sighs quietly. “Yes -- yes, I suppose I have.”

“Why is that?”

“Well --” she trails off, still staring into her cup. He waits. When the rest of the sentence comes, it’s in a blurted rush. “I don’t know what you see in me.”

It’s rare that Lucien finds himself caught off guard. He stares at her, cup still tilted in mid-sip.

She continues. “You’re so intelligent, and educated, and -- and h-handsome -- and my audiences love you, and I’m just --” her voice lowers sadly, “I’m just me. Plain and boring.” She turns the cup in its saucer, refusing to look up. “I mean, I know you’re getting tired of me.”

Lucien tries to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order. “What makes you say that?”

“We --” her eyes dart from side to side, checking that no one else in the cafe is listening. “We haven’t even had sex yet,” she whispers. “Not properly. And you’re never, you know --” She gestures vaguely to her own lap, “ interested .” Her forehead is glowing beet red.

Lucien puts his cup down slowly, precisely centering it on the saucer, before he answers her. “I’ve been holding back, you know. I didn’t want to rush you.” Too controlled. He never thought there was such a thing. “I’ve been very interested , but my self-control is quite good.”

She still doesn’t look up at him.

“Do you remember the night you couldn’t sleep, and asked me to tell you a story over the phone?”

She nods.

“The artist and the butterfly. The colourblind artist and the golden, glowing butterfly.” Lucien smiles warmly at her. “I don’t know if I can explain it in better words than those, but perhaps I can show you.” He rises to his feet and drops a few bills on the table before holding his hand out to her. “Will you indulge me?”

Her lashes are still lowered, but she looks up through them, the gleam of her golden eyes tantalizing him. “Of course, Lucien.”

They make a few purchases on the way home: an art store, for India ink and brushes. A theatre store, for gold makeup and sponges. Lucien slides his coffee table out of the way and lays down a sheet on the floor. He stands a large mirror at one end of the room. She watches his preparations with avid curiosity.

“Here,” he tells her. “Take off your clothes for me, and lie down on your stomach.” She is, as ever, obedient to his wishes.

She lies naked before him. Her head is turned to one side, pillowed on her folded hands. Her elbows are splayed out in a line with her shoulders, letting her scapulae rest flat against her ribcage. Her legs are straight. The soles of her feet face the ceiling, big toes resting against each other as her ankles supinate outwards.

“Ink me, Professor,” she murmurs into her hands.

********************************************************

The brush drips black ink as Lucien holds it over the pot, waiting for the excess to run off. He carefully studies his canvas in the meantime, contemplating the placement of the next line.

His work is a delicate tracery that stands in stark relief against her pale skin: the careful symmetry of butterfly’s wings rooted between her shoulders, spreading across her upper arms and down her back, wrapping around her ribs and ending in a gentle curve around the undersides of her buttocks.

She’s been lying motionless as he works, for nearly an hour judging by the movement of the sun. Her breathing is so even and relaxed that Lucien thinks she’s fallen asleep. He wipes the brush clean and lays it down, then replaces the lid of the ink bottle. Finally he sits cross-legged to examine his work, losing himself in the intricate tracery of costal and sub-costal veins.

“Are you finished, Professor?” Her sweet voice breaks into his reverie.

“The first stage,” he replies. “The ink should be dry soon.”

She hums in reply, wordlessly comfortable.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Mmmhmm. The sun is beautiful on my skin.” She opens her eyes languorously, and he leans into her field of vision. Her answering smile is warmer than the sunbeam they’re resting in, and he gives into the urge to lie down on his stomach perpendicular to her, so he can breathe kisses onto her eyes and mouth. She giggles, a delicious ripple of joy which starts a warm liquid wave in his stomach that melts a path straight up his chest and face. He rests his chin on his forearms and smiles at her, a spontaneous smile that feels completely foreign on his face.

“I had the dream again,” she sighs, and all the warmth in him freezes solid.

“Which dream?”

“You know, the one from before --” her foot kicks in lieu of waving a hand. “The one with Kiro and the fog and that black haired woman.”

Lucien forces himself to breathe normally. “Was it the same?”

She shakes her head minutely, obedient to his warning about the drying ink. “No. Kiro wasn’t there this time. You were with me instead.”

The ice in his chest cracks; he can feel his heart start to beat again. “Oh.” He breathes in and out, once, twice, thrice before he thinks his lungs can carry on without active direction. “Good. That means I’ll be there to protect you.”

That means Zeus has taken his warning to heart. Helios will not be there to strip her of all his careful conditioning. That means she’ll still trust him, at the end.

Overwhelming relief sends a shudder through him, and he’s thankful her eyes are closed again so she doesn’t see. He watches her silently, memorizing every detail of her dainty features, currently blissfully relaxed and unaware of his tremor.

After a few minutes she rouses enough to look at him again. “Is the ink dry yet?”

He makes a show of examining her back, lightly dabbing his fingertips against the thick margins of her wings. “It seems to be. I can start the gold, now.”

He dampens a small sponge and begins working the shimmering pigment over her back, filling in each wing cell with iridescence that turns molten in the late afternoon sun. This is much faster work than inking the wings themselves, and Lucien finds himself working frantically, chasing the light across her. He feels a desperation in the pit of his stomach, a trepidation that isn’t soothed by the knowledge that he’ll be with her when she goes to the TV tower.

When he finishes, her entire torso is a beautiful blaze, resplendent and shining in the last of the light. He catches her hand, pulling her to her feet to stand in front of the mirror. He pulls her to face him and lifts her arms around his neck to show her the striation of the black veins as her wings flex and stretch. She cranes her neck over her shoulder to see her reflection. Her expression is a mixture of awe and delight.

“Do you see?” He demands hoarsely. He crushes her against his chest, heedless of the gold paint that smears into the weave of his shirtsleeves. “Do you see now what I see, when I look at you?” He turns her face to look up at him, begging for comprehension. All the other colours fade when he’s apart from her, but in his mind’s eye she is always golden and glowing. Her mouth falls open at his uncharacteristic intensity, but her gaze is compassionate and warm.

“Lucien, what’s scaring you?”

She doesn’t know. She can’t know, or everything will be ruined. Her awakening is so close now, and he doesn’t dare deviate from the plan. For the first time he regrets his choices, regrets his success in finding the Queen and preparing her for metamorphosis. He can’t find words to answer her, can’t bring himself to lie to her in this moment when she’s granted him such a tangible expression of his vision. Instead he slams his mouth against hers, claiming her in a fervid kiss. Her gasp of surprise only sparks fire in his belly. The voice of Ares ordering him to calm down and pull back is lost in the crackling inferno.

He bears her down to the floor and continues his voracious assault on her lips, not giving her a chance to protest. One hand tangles in her hair, the other fumbles urgently at his shirt buttons. Finally, impatiently, he yanks and hears buttons skitter across the floor as his shirt flies open. Small hands tug the tails free of his trousers and skim over his stomach to start pulling open his belt.

He grinds into her naked heat as she finds the button and zipper behind the buckle. He’s hard, rutting against her, the long months of self-restraint evaporated like water on a hot pan, leaving behind only the sizzle of need. She bites at his lower lip, not the tentative nips she’s essayed before, but a catch of sharp teeth and the taste of blood as she frees his cock and grabs his waist. She pulls him hard against her, and he slides up through her slippery folds, feeling the head of him rub along her nub. Her chest heaves under him and she releases his lip. He chases her mouth with his own teeth, before laying bruising kisses into her neck, moving down to the trapezius where he bites, hard, and rocks against her.

“ Lucien .” She gasps his name, husky and yearning, and he pulls back to look at her. “God, Lucien, please --!” Her nails drag lines of fire up his back and he pushes into her with no preamble. None is necessary: she’s wet and open and moaning wantonly with each thrust. She slides one hand into his hair and grips tight, as though fearing he’ll pull away. He returns to her mouth, panting into her, and grabs her other hand, lacing their fingers together against the floor. Her legs pull up around him and lock behind his lumbar vertebrae, pulling him deeper as she clenches around his cock. Lucien feels his eyes roll back in his head when his hips stutter.

“Not yet,” he hisses. He slides his free hand under her shoulders and lifts her with him as he pulls back into a sitting position. Suddenly her breasts are right at the level of his mouth, and he traps her against him to indulge himself in the plush roundness. She squeaks as he bites at the curving underside, but he feels her pulsing around him again. His ferocity isn’t frightening her. Just the opposite, in fact. He buries his face in her cleavage and sucks a red mark onto her sternum, branding her as his.

Lucien uses both hands to grasp her slender waist and lift, turning her on his cock until she’s facing the mirror, straddling his thighs. He spreads his knees, forcing her legs further open, and drags her back down to fully engulf him. His hands slide down her pelvis, gripping at her inner thighs hard enough to bruise before spreading her lips so she can see how he stretches her open.

“Do you see now?” He strokes her clitoris teasingly, and she jerks, driving her buttocks into him. “Do you feel how much I’ve wanted you, the fire you’ve lit inside me?” He wraps one arm across her pelvis and pins her to him, while the other hand keeps stroking, increasing in pressure and speed, until she’s shuddering around him, head fallen back on his shoulder and nails driving into his forearm. She’s entirely unable to speak; the only sound she makes is a keening wail while she tries to buck into him. His arm is an iron bar, holding her in exquisite torment. Finally he thrusts up into her and pinches her nub sharply. Her scream of ecstasy matches the violent clenching of her orgasm.

Lucien wastes no time in pushing her face-down to the floor and planting his hands under her shoulders. His abdomen slaps against her as he plunges in, whispering hotly in her ear. “You’re the only warmth in the world. You’re the only colour I see.” He can feel his thighs quivering and knows he’s close. “I can’t be without you.”

He groans gutterally as he comes, pounding against her helplessly until he feels empty and hollow. Breathing is difficult, and he rests his forehead against her spine. The gold paint is smeared everywhere, on her back and his chest and arms, but the ink wings are still precise and perfect.

He understands now that he fears losing her; not the Queen, but the woman wrapped around her. His butterfly.

#mr love queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc spoilers #writing #advanced entomology #rating: carolina reaper

22 notes · View notes

masonjar191 · 5 years ago

Text

ThorBruce AU

Pain

Changed canon- Loki does not cause the battle of New York, it’s all Thanos.

Everyone is born with two letters on their wrist- the initials of their soulmate. Not every soulmate is a romantic partner, many are best friends, the kind you want to spend every waking moment with, and when you are apart you feel as if you’ll never be happy again until you are in their presence. Most are the same age, born days, weeks, or a few months apart. Rarer are the pairings in which the soulmate in question isn’t even a thought. Even rarer yet are when soulmates are decades or centuries apart in age.

Thor, the Asgardian prince, would live over a thousand years before his soulmate, a Midgardian by the name of Bruce would be born. It would be longer still until they met while saving the world from an alien attack.

8-year-old Thor snuggled into bed as he begged his Mum to tell a story. “About the soulmates, Mummy!” he thought to his own mark, displaying the initials “RB”. He wondered what their name was, what they looked like, when he would meet them and on what Realm…

“Well, Thor,” Frigga began. “Since the beginning of time, there have been soulmates, whose souls were torn apart during the Big Bang that created the Nine Realms. Every being ever born had and will have a soulmate. My soulmate is your Father, yours is RB, Loki’s is GM. You will know when you have met them because you will be engulfed in light and your marks will change color to match their favorite hue. After you meet, you will feel their pain, albeit muted.”

Thor smiled, dreaming of the day he gets to meet RB.

Bruce Banner was born Rebecca Alice Banner in 1969, a little over 1,000 years after his soulmate. From a young age, he never felt right in his body, leading to him declaring he was a boy at age 12.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re a boy?” Brian Banner screamed that night. “This TO man on your wrist isn’t going to want to be mated to a faggot. God damn it, Rebecca, I won’t raise a tranny!” Brian hit Bruce over the head, knocking the pre-teen unconscious.

When the young boy awoke, he cried, knowing his father would never accept him. Why would Brian? All Bruce had known was abuse from the alcoholic, hell, Brian had killed Bruce’s mother in front of him just a few months prior. Bruce knew if his mom was still alive, she would accept him, she had always been kind and accepting of the “Queers” he saw on television sometimes. Bruce knew he was a queer, liking boys while he knew deep inside, he was one as well. He knew TO was a man as well, although how old, he didn’t know.

“When will I be king?” the now almost-grown Thor asked Odin. He was physically a grown man. Hel, even his little brother was in his late adolescent years and Thor was 500 years older than Loki!

“When you meet your soulmate, my boy,” Odin grumbled, becoming used to the question being asked from both of his sons. Hela had asked when she would be Queen, as well. At one point she had taken the thrown forcefully, only to be banished. Odin was thankful he had raised his sons to be peaceful rather than seek war. Or at least he thought he had until Thor went to Jotunheim to fight the Frost Giants that had interrupted his coronation.

Odin was to be entering Odinsleep soon, so he temporarily named the boy King, even though neither boy had met his soulmate. Truth be told, Odin had put it off so long that he was afraid the stress would kill him, but he could not force either boy to meet their soulmate. A temporary arrangement would be enough. Until Thor disobeyed him.

“Damn it, boy! This is why I put this off for so long! You are a foolish, cruel, vain boy!” Odin screamed when he rescued Thor from Jotunheim.

“And you are an old man and a fool!” Thor retorted.

“You are unworthy! Unworthy of the crown, of your power,” Odin cried as he stripped Thor of his Asgardian strength. “I hereby banish you to Midgard!” Odin hoped Thor would meet his soulmate on Midgard. He set upon two terms to end his banishment- either Thor gets over his selfishness, or he meets his soulmate.

After Bruce left home in 1990, he immediately began transitioning. The twenty-year-old scraped together enough money to start hormones, get his breasts removed, and change his name to Robert Bruce Banner. He knew his soulmate would be looking for an RB, so he reluctantly kept the R initial. He had gone by Bruce at school since he entered senior high. Then, he poured himself into his studies, earning seven Ph.D.’s- in Gamma radiation, sexual health, astrophysics, Nuclear physics, philosophy, biochemistry, and medicine.

Bruce had taken up a teaching job at Culver University as Professor of Biochemistry. After the 9/11 attacks, he dedicated his life to helping others, which led him to be recruited by Thaddeus Ross. Unfortunately, it had the side effect of turning the young scientist into what became known as Hulk.

While Bruce had once, and still, hated himself because he was born female, he now hated himself because he turned into a green rage monster if he got angry. He went on the run, sacrificing his testosterone for his safety. Eventually, he was found, but not before he attempted suicide to rid himself of the monster. Looking back, Bruce was thankful he had failed, knowing TO would never forgive himself if Bruce had died before they met.

Years later, after Bruce got back on T, although still on the run from the military, he was focused on providing medical care for others, deciding that even if he could turn into Hulk, he could use his normal, less-of-a-freak self for good rather than the destruction Hulk brought.

Thor didn’t meet his soulmate- in fact, RB was on the other side of the country, but he proved himself worthy by sacrificing himself to save his friends on Midgard.

“Did you meet RB?” Loki asked excitedly when Thor returned.

“What do you think, brother?” Thor snapped, shoving the still black letters to Loki’s face. “Did you meet GM yet?”

“Nay, though I hope I meet them soon, I’m tired of being a child by Asgardian terms,”

“Loki, as the Midgardians see it, you’re a child there too. I am barely an adult. If RB would hurry up and enter my life, that would be grand!”

“I am sure we will meet our soulmates soon. Now, guess what our dear father bestowed upon me during your absence! I am Jotun! Yeah, I know! He picked me up as a babe, but hey, I can do ice magic now!”

A few months after Thor’s banishment ended, he and Loki were sent on a quest to Midgard because a group called The Black Order were planning on stealing the Tesseract.

“Perhaps you’ll meet your soulmate!” Loki cheered as they departed from the Bifrost. “We are long overdue, us being over a thousand years old.”

“What about you, dear brother? Don’t you want to meet GM?”

“Yes, Thor, we all want to meet our soulmates. But, let’s face it, you’re older, you are going to inherit the throne first. You proved your worthiness, I haven’t, even if we have not met our soulmates.”

Bruce was pissed. He had been whisked off from India, where he was doing good for once in his life, back to the United States, back to New York, to find this Tesseract thing. But Bruce knew better. This SHIELD organization just wanted to experiment on Hulk, they always did. Why couldn’t Bruce have been born into a loving family, as a boy, and not turn into a monster?

“H-Hey I’m Bruce Banner,” Bruce stuttered when the quinjet landed and he met the team he would be working with: Tony Stark, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Erik Selvig, the Norse Gods Thor and Loki, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, and Natasha Romanoff.

God damn, Thor thought when he laid eyes on Bruce. That guy is stunning!

“Good to meet you, Dr. Banner,” Tony said as he shook Bruce’s hand. I hope that wasn’t weak. “Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled, and I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

“Thanks,” Bruce replied sarcastically. At least no one here cared, or hopefully even knew he was trans.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube,” called Fury. Thank you! “I was hoping you might join him.”

Captain Rogers spoke up. “Let’s start with that stick of his, Thanos I mean. It’s magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I’d like to know how Thanos turned two of our sharpest men into his personal flying monkeys.”

“Monkeys?” Thor questioned. Bruce wondered. TO? Could that stand for Thor, Son of Odin, or Odinson?

“I understood that reference!” Steve smiled, while Tony rolled his eyes at the recently defrosted Soldier.

However, before Bruce could test his Soulmate theory, Tony whisked him away to do research.

Thor decided to do research on Dr. Banner and found out his first name was actually Robert. “Loki! I think Dr. Banner is RB! Look, his first name is Robert!” he cheered.

“Now to get close enough for the soulmate bond to recognize. You have to be touching, right?” Loki asked for clarification.

“Yes! At the end of the battle, I’ll give him a celebratory hug!” Thor hugged Loki for reference, in his signature rib-crushing style.

“Ouch, brother, do you want to kill your soulmate? He is merely mortal!”

“Alas, soulmate Banner is tougher than he looks.”

“He looks like an anxious mess,” Loki pointed out. “I have a point; he is especially fragile! Look at how he stood, playing with his sleeves and picking at his fingers.”

“I will teach him that he does not have to fear, that I will always be there, his soulmate.”

“That’s my secret, Cap. I’m always angry,” Bruce calmly said as he transformed into Hulk to take down the Chitauri and the rest of the Black Order.

That’s my fucking soulmate! Thor thought as he continued battling. Eventually, Thor cut off Thanos’ head with a sword he had taken from one of the dead Black Order… creatures. It was official, there was no remaining child of Thanos. They had won.

Thor threw the sword to the side and charged over to Hulk, who was transforming back to Bruce. He was glad his armor that day was sleeveless, he wanted to see his mark change. He didn’t care that Bruce was naked, he was going to hug his soulmate, damn it!

The two were engulfed in a flurry of light for a mere moment, but their arms stung as Thor’s mark changed to purple, while Bruce’s turned red.

“Holy shit,” Bruce swore, then realized he was naked, and moved quickly to hide from the Avengers and SHIELD agents. “Please, don’t look at me!” he yelled as he pulled on some discarded clothing.

“My soulmate! What troubles you?” Thor thundered, causing Bruce to flinch.

“What happened to your penis? Blown off in war?” Steve asked curiously. “I knew a few guys in my time who had that happen.”

“Uh, yeah, I can’t afford the surgery to get a new one.” Bruce lied. The man was from the 40s, who knew how he felt about queers?

“And those lines on your chest?” Bruce blushed, hard.

“Friend, Captain, do not worry my soulmate! He will tell us about his traumas when he is ready, and it is obvious he is not ready!” Thor explained as he held Bruce’s hand to stop him from running. It also served to calm the man.

“Thank you,” Bruce sighed. He’d never had anyone stand up for him like that.

Thor was back on Asgard. ‘How did I get here? I was with Bruce.’ he thought, several theories firing up as he waited for whatever had him home.

“So, you met your soulmate!” Odin called out, walking over to Thor and patting his son on the back. “Have you completed the final part of the ritual?”

“W-what ritual? We hugged and then our marks changed. Is that not it?” Thor asked with confusion. In all his years, in all the times he had asked about his soulmate and what happened when you met the, neither Odin nor Frigga mentioned a ritual.

“Nay, my son. The final part of the ritual allows you to feel their pain and emotions.”

“Then tell me what it is so I can complete it!” Thor chuckled. Why was Odin keeping it a secret?

“Alright, my boy, I cannot keep this from you forever. To complete the soulmate ritual, the two souls must combine, so to speak.”

“Combine? How the Norns?”

“Thor, you are a young man, surely you have had sex!” Odin laughed as he patted his boy on the back. Thor’s face flushed.

“Yeah, definitely!” he lied. “So, all I have to do is bed my soulmate?”

“Yes, my boy. Now, you need not lie to me, son. It’s fine to wait for your soulmate.”

“Did you, Father?” asked Thor, feigning innocence. He may not have had much action, unlike his little brother, but he knew enough from Loki’s bragging.

“I would be lying if I said I waited,” Odin admitted.

Bruce almost Hulked out when he realized he and Thor had to have sex if they wanted to fully activate the Soulmate Bond. If he could have been dysphoric about his lack of a penis at only one moment, this would be it. ‘Does Hulk have a dick?’ he wondered, never taking the time to check, or perhaps he never had the thought. Would Thor want to fuck him even if he had… that?

When Thor awoke, he was glad to find that he had not left Stark Tower, where the Avengers had set up a temporary living space. Much of the building was covered in debris from yesterday’s attack, but Tony’s apartment was safe, and he ha a few guest rooms. Clint and Nat had shared, as they were soulmates and had already bonded. Tony paired Bruce and Thor up, though thankfully their room had two beds- soulmates or not, they had just met. Tony had his own room, leaving Steve to the couch.

He staggered to the kitchen and decided to look for food. Pop tarts! He exclaimed when he saw the delightful treat. He popped two into the toaster and poured a cup of coffee.

“You’re up early,” noted Bruce as he walked into the kitchen soon after Thor sat down.

“A warrior always rises early. That, and I couldn’t sleep any longer. I’ve been thinking about this soulmate bond,” Thor said.

“Yeah, me too. I’ve had one-night stands before, but it feels different when it’s with my soulmate. Especially when he’s as handsome as you,” Bruce paused. “I want to get to know you in other areas than the bedroom before we do that. I’ve always had an interest in mythology, and it’s not every day one of the figures you’ve spent your whole life reading is your soulmate. I’ve only read your stories; I don’t know the man behind them!”

“Which story is your favorite?” Thor asked with enthusiasm, he loved recounting his adventures, now his soulmate was well versed in them. This was a dream come true.

“Probably the one where you had to dress up like a bride to get Mjolnir back!”

“Ah, yes. Now that was awkward. I had never felt such shame in my life, not until Odin banished me to Midgard after I attacked Jotunheim because they ruined my coronation.”

Bruce looked at his soulmate in wonder. “I never read that myth!”

Thor laughed. “That is because it happened last year.”

“It happened last year?”

“That is what I said.”

“Damn, I was, uh, tearing up Harlem at the time.” Bruce blushed as he remembered the last time he had been in New York. “Anyway, can you tell me the story?”

“Why, yes, Banner. So, me and my brother, Loki, have always been extremely close. When my coronation was interrupted by the Frost Giants, Odin forbid me from attacking them. In rage, I disobeyed my father, and me, Loki, my friends the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif traveled to Jotunheim, where we were attacked. Odin found us, and he was pissed that I had started a war with the Jotun. Long story short, he saw me unfit to be king. I must admit that I was arrogant and said some things I regret. He put a spell on my hammer that said only those worthy could lift it, and if they could, they would have my powers. He sent me to a place called New Mexico, where I met a young scientist by the name of Jane Foster.”

“I’ve heard of Jane, she’s a genius on the field of astrophysics! I’ve wanted to work with her for years, you know her?”

“Yes, she helped me to get my hammer back! I saved her from being killed by a being known as the Destroyer. He nearly killed me, but my selfless act proved me worthy and I was saved!”

‘He’s so fucking brave’ thought Bruce as he listened intently to Thor’s story. Of his adventure in New Mexico.

“What about you? Do you have any adventures?” Thor asked.

“N-not any that I would be able to tell, bad memories,” Bruce admitted quietly. “Whether it’s my mom being killed, my dad being abusive, being trapped in this hellhole of a vessel I call my body and my mind, being the Hulk,” he listed, every bad thing that had happened in his life flashing back to him. The only good times he had were in science labs, studying science.

“What’s wrong with your body? You’re incredibly handsome, Bruce. I don’t care I you have a penis or not. You’re still a man in my eyes.”

“It, uh, wasn’t blasted off in war. I never had one. These scars on my chest?” Bruce started, pulling his shirt off as he pointed to the thin lines lining the bottoms of his pecs. “Were from when I had my chest tissue surgically removed. Thor, I was born female.” Bruce’s eyes burned with the beginnings of tears, he could feel Hulk thundering in the back of his mind, begging to be released.

“HULK SMASH” he yelled in Hulk’s voice, before slipping back into Banner-mode. He threw his fists down onto the bed as he flopped onto it. His skin turned green but otherwise, he was still Banner. Hyperventilating, the years of ridicule he had faced at the hands of his father, and later Ross, flashed before his eyes.

“Bruce, you’re okay. I’m totally fine with it! These feelings are common on Asgard! If I could pass as a woman to a Giant, you sure as Hel can as a man. And you are a man, you aren’t pretending like I was pretending to be a woman.”

“Thanks.” Bruce took the compliment, not quite believing it. He hasn’t properly accepted a compliment in years, knowing from experience that trust would lead him to betrayal in the end.

“I mean it, Bruce. I would never lie to you; you have my word.”

Bruce spits blood as he takes yet another punch. “God damn it, Becca, how many times do I have to beat it into your head that you ain’t a boy?” Brian snarls, before punching Bruce again.

“Gee, why don’t ya punch me again, see if that does it?” Bruce yells, sarcasm dripping from his busted lips. Brian follows the request, breaking his child’s nose. Bruce’s head snaps back, hitting the concrete floor, knocking him out.

Except he doesn’t. Instead of going unconscious, Bruce transforms into the Hulk, growing in size until he stood, seven feet tall, green, still bleeding. “What the hell, girl?” Brian swears before Bruce snaps, forcing his father into the concrete. SMASH. SMASH. SMASH!

“Y-you punch like a girl. Oh wait, you are one, even if you’re a fuckin monster inside.”

Bruce wakes suddenly. He never was present for his father’s death, being deep in research at that point. He hadn’t even gone to the funeral, knowing his relatives would still see Bruce as the little girl he had always been in their eyes. Even if his curly locks had long been cut, and he had stubble along his jaw, and he had recently gotten top surgery, they would still call him Rebecca.

Yet, his mind, since he had turned into Hulk, liked to show scenes of him Hulking out on Brian, killing him, even though the man had died in real life from old age. Even in death, the man still hated his child. No, hate wasn’t strong enough a word. Brian despised Bruce.

Bruce didn’t realize he was crying until he couldn’t breathe, his sobs choking him, sending him into a panic attack. “Thor! Thor!” he managed to scream, throat dry, closing up, his fingernails clawing at his forearms.

“Banner?” Thor mumbled as he awoke, exhaustion still in his bass voice. “What’s wrong?” he reached over to turn on a light, only to see the smaller man shaking and scratching himself. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s fine. I’m here, you’re not in danger!”

Bruce jumps back at Thor’s fingers touching his bare chest. “Don’t hurt me!” he cries. “Dad, no! Okay, fine, I’m a fucking girl, I’ll never be a man!”

“Shhhh, the sun’s getting low, I won’t hurt you, you’ll never be hurt again. Your father is dead.” Thor reaches out to calm the man the way he used to calm Loki when the God of Mischief woke from nightmares. At first, Bruce flinches but then accepts the soft touch of Thor rubbing his back and brushing his hair from his face. Thor allows Bruce to cry into his chest, let the tears fall as his panic attack fades. “Bruce, my love, are you okay?”

“N-no. My dad,” he stutters. His face burns even harder than it was from his panic attack.

“Is dead, sweetheart. He won’t hurt you; I won’t allow it. If anyone hurts you, I will kill them. I’ve slain more enemies than the number of years I’ve been alive, that bastard won’t be the first nor the last.”

Bruce looks down at his wrists, skin torn and bleeding. He frowns, feeling the sting of his tears and sweat mixing with the wounds.

“Ah, I shall kiss them better,” Thor remarks, before running his lips over each and every mark. To Bruce’s amazement, the blood stops running, and each line turns white before disappearing completely.

“Can soulmates just do that?” Bruce asks.

“No, I don’t think so. However, I can. When Loki and I were small, my mother would kiss our battle injuries away, and by that, I mean the wounds from when Loki stabbed me. I guess I inherited her magic. Ironic, since Loki is the one of us that can perform spells.”

“Kiss all of my pain away,” Bruce smiles as he pecks the God on the lips. Thor quickly deepens the kiss as the two lean back so Thor straddles Bruce.

“Are you okay, my love?” Thor asks with concern. He feels a massive pleasure course throughout his body like lightning, but he can stop if his soulmate is too uncomfortable.

“I’m okay,” Bruce whispers. “I’ll tell you if my dysphoria gets to be too much.”

Bruce wakes the next morning and smiles at his soulmate, his naked form covered by their comforter. They had officially completed the soulmate bond.

#thorbruce #trans bruce #gammahammer #thunderscience #thor #bruce banner #dysphoria #cw:slurs #cw:abuse #cw: panic attacks

78 notes · View notes

typingtess · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

NCIS: Los Angeles Season Ten Rewatch: "Searching"

The basics: The team is in all different places as a DEA Agent and his family are kidnapped.

Written by: Adam George Key and Kyle Harimoto

Adam George Key co-wrote “The Monster” with Frank Military.

Kyle Harimoto wrote “Omni”, “Merry Evasion”, “Chernoff, K”, “Command and Control” (episode 150), “Granger, O.”, “Ghost Gun”, “Kulinda”, “767”, “Se Murio El Payaso”, “Assets”/“Liabilities”, “Venganza”, “Superhuman” and “One of Us” (introducing Lance Hamilton). He co-wrote “Three Hearts”, “Leipei”, “Humbug”, both ends of the “Matryoshka” two-parter and "Smokescreen” Part Two.

Directed by: Terrence O’Hara, who directed “The Only Easy Day”, “Brimstone”, “The Bank Job”, “Borderline”, “Tin Soldiers”, “The Job”, “Backstopped”, “Crimeleon”, “Blye, K.” Part Two, “San Voir” Part Two, “End Game”, “Paper Soldiers”, “Descent”, “Ascension”, “Fish Out of Water”, “Blaze of Glory”, “Command and Control” (episode 150, written by Harimoto), “Matryoshka” Part Two (co-written by Harimoto), “Belly of the Beast”, “Payback”, “Mountebank” and “Asesinos”.

Guest stars of note: Bill Goldberg as DOJ Agent Lance Hamilton returns from "One of Us". Both India De Beaufort as Alexandra Reynolds and Makai Dudeck as Jake Reynolds return from "Warrior of Peace". Medalion Rahimi as NCIS Special Agent Fatima Namazi is back from "Till Death Do Us Part". Antwon Tanner as Avron Berry, Shane McMahon as Army CID Special Agent Steve Evans, Wilson Ramirez as Ignacio Rodriquez, Nikki McCauley as Cristina Wallace, Taymour Ghazi as James Wallace, Shiloh Nelson as Amanda Wallace, Darone Okolie as Tre Houston and Charles Kim as Myeong, who played the Deputy in "Sirens" who tells Callen about the dead men on his lawn.

Our heroes: Have a day off.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Shot. Sam: Thinking about leaving NCIS but not now. Kensi: Worried she and Deeks are fighting too much about the bar. Deeks: Worried that Kensi is worried. Eric: Nell Jones is a key part of his decision making. Nell: Sick mother moving to San Francisco. Hetty: Not today.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Plays blackjack with children for pretzels. Sam: Teaches oil changes on the weekend. Kensi: Bought Deeks's bar wall shark, which is fake, but told him she caught it. Deeks: Working on his traps. Eric: Job interview in San Francisco. Nell: Doesn't want to pressure Eric. Hetty: Absent.

Who's down with OTP: In perfect harmony in all other matters in their professional and home lives, Kensi is worried that she and Deeks are arguing too much about the bar. Eric and Nell are having deeper conversations about his possible career change and her mother's health.

Who's down with BrOTP: The bromance is strong between Sam and Hamilton, which makes sense. Similar career paths, shared life tragedies. Likely shared wardrobe at times. Callen and Sam banter away after Callen is shot. Sam wants to tell Callen about his day with Hamilton so while Sam is stepping out on his injured partner, he's always returning to G.

Any pressing need for Harm and Mac: Not today.

Who is running the team this week? Nobody it seems. There is nobody official around when the raid with the Army's Criminal Investigation Division. After that, it is Saturday and everyone is on their own.

Mosley watch: Speaking of on their own…, we're in the final quarter of the season and except that big space that was digitally created to remove Mosley from the opening credits working around the collaboration table scene, she is a ghost.

Fashion review: With all the male field personnel wearing kevlar, Callen starts the episode in a his black button down shirt. Dark blue henley for Sam. Kensi is wearing a blonde wig, a blue and white stripped jacket, short demi shorts and sneakers. A light blue long-sleeve tee-shirt for Deeks. Up in Ops, Eric is wearing an eggplant dress shirt (totally approve), that bulky grey cardigan sweater (eh) and long pants. Nell has on a red floral print blouse with a black pleated skirt.

Saturday, Callen checks out of the hospital with a medium blue tee-shirt and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. Sam is back in black – henley that is. Dark blue long-sleeve top for Kensi with multi-color stripes. Dark red long-sleeve tee for Deeks. In San Francisco, Eric is wearing a grey pullover sweater with a light blue dress shirt, long pants and a sports jacket with a pocket square. Nell is in a dark dress, a coat and a Renee Felice Smith style hat.

Guest star fashion note: Fatima's floral headscarf is beautiful.

Music: "We're Not Going to Take It" by Twisted Sister is playing while Deeks is removing the speakers in the bar. "Brian Wilson" by Jr. Thomas & The Volcanos is playing at the fundraiser.

Any notable cut scene: No.

Quote: Sam: "How you holding up?" Hamilton: "I'm pushing through, man." Sam: "Yeah?" Hamilton: "Yeah. I get up in the morning, I drink my pot of coffee, hit the heavy bag, hit the weights, and pray those bad thoughts stay out of my brain for another day. And you?" Sam: "Weights. Ocean. I fight those demons, too." Hamilton: "Yeah. Look, man, I'm just gonna come out and say it. We work well together." Sam: "Yeah." Hamilton: "And the offer still stands. You want a break, you want to do something new, you want to get out of LA, you have an open invitation." Sam: "I think I might just do that. But not yet. It's not time to leave yet." Hamilton: "Got you."

Anything else: Tied to a chair in a warehouse, a man who looks surprising like the WWE's Shane McMahon is taking a beating. The leader of his captors is disappointed – he trusted the man in the chair. The Shane look-a-like tells his captor to just kill him. He's had enough of the beating plus the captor's girlfriend looks bored. Ordering his men to make Near-Shane's death as bloody and painful as possible, the head man turns over the killing duties to a guy with a hammer.

Before the guy with the hammer can strike his first blow, the head man's girlfriend grabs his hammer-swinging arm. The two tangle. Sorta-Shane headbutts one of his tormentors as he breaks free from the chair and goes after the man in charge even with his hands still duct-taped behind his back.

When the girlfriend's blonde wig falls off, it is Kensi. The man she is fighting pulls out a gun. Kensi quickly disarms him and tosses him to the ground. Possibly-Shane has the head guy in a thigh-lock wrestling hold – where did he learn that? The man he knocked out with the head butt comes to and tries to rescue his boss by pulling gun. Kensi grabs the gun, turns it around and has the bad guy shoot himself three times. Kensi takes his gun and knife. Cutting Shane-Adjacent free, Kensi tells him to look for the hard drive. Searching the now out-cold man in charge, the hard drive is found. As reinforcements arrive for the bad guys, Kensi thinks they need to move.

Fatima is running through an alley in the warehouse district. She finds a building and sets up a heat detecting camera on the roof. She is able to provide a live feed to Eric and Nell in Ops. Nell can see where Kensi and Not-Shane but CID Special Agent Evans are in the building. Eric directs Kensi and Evans away from a group of shooters but not before they are seen.

Literally blowing a door off its hinge, Callen, Sam and Deeks lead a team into the building. There is a group of criminals working near the blown door. Much shooting happens. As with the firefight in "Smokescreen" part two, this is louder than usual with the cameras placed in the middle of the fight. Callen, Sam and Deeks largely end the threats (permanently for most) but there is a runner. Eric guides the team to the freight elevator.

Nell warns Kensi and Evans about three shooters coming their way. They take cover behind some dumpsters and engage with the shooters. Kensi asks Nell for directions to an exit. Now taking fire from gunmen above, Kensi is told there is an exit near the west corner of the building. Agent Evans sees there is a gate by the exit. Handing Kensi his weapon, Evans wants her to "light 'em up" while he tries to open it.

In a Ziva David movie - two guns, two hands, shooting in two different directions - Evans walks behind her as she light's them up moving to the gate. Evans is able to knock open the door. With Kensi safely inside the gated area, Evans pushes large objects in front of the gate, keeping the others out.

Just as Kensi and Evans are out of ammo, Callen, Sam and Deeks arrive with plenty of firepower. While the shooting is going on, Evans talks about how much he likes LA. Weather is nice, good restaurants. Kensi suggests the shopping – "the shopping is good." A gunman makes his way down a stairwell behind them. Kensi grabs his long barrel gun before he even sees her, pulling him down the final few steps. With the man out cold, Kensi relieves him of both his rifle and his handgun. Passing the handgun to Evans, the two look for another way out.

In the level above Kensi and Evans, Callen, Sam and Deeks finish their long gun battle. Deeks's rifle is out of ammo, he's using his handgun. Kensi and Evans take out the remaining gunmen on their floor. Everyone is yelling clear and they're good. Well, not the look on Deeks’s face. With the light on his rifle, he points at Callen's leg. Callen was shot in the calf. "That's not good,” Deeks says. Sam calls Nell asking for an EMT.

In the ambulance, Callen is trying to talk his way out of a trip to the hospital. He was grazed, he's fine. Expressing how much he loves his partner, Sam asks Callen if he does pass away, could he have Callen's comfortable dad shoes? Telling the EMTs to use the siren, Sam sends Callen off to the hospital.

Deeks is briefing LAPD while Kensi and Fatima are hanging with the gear by the Audi. Agent Evans joins them with a few butterfly bandages keeping his cheek together. The hard drive they recovered in the operation had the stolen spy plane plans from Lockheed Martin (who like Microsoft gets a credit at the end of most episodes). Evans asks about Callen – who he thinks is tough. Sam says Callen is fine, he's more worried about the EMTs who have to treat Callen. Evans is grateful for all the help NCIS provided. He thanks "Chief" Sam, Agent Fatima and offers Kensi any help she needs in the future.

Sam picks up Callen from the hospital. He's going to miss a week of work – stitches and all – but is otherwise fine but he is walking with a cane. Sam jokes about carrying Callen into the Hellcat. Not joking is Callen, who got a call from Alex – she wants him to watch Jake, Callen's nephew. Sam sees this as a good thing. Callen guess he does as well. He hasn't had any contact with either of them since their father – Callen can't even finish the sentence. Jake is going to stay with Callen at the apartment.

Eric and Nell are on their way to San Francisco. Eric has an interview at a top tech company because, according to Nell, he is "an incredible genius of a man." Eric wants to cancel – he is training to be a special agent, he isn't sure he wants to leave NCIS. Nell wants to know what is really going on. Saying that his dream in college was to go to San Francisco and become a tech titan, he was recruited by NCIS and while he wasn't happy there at first, he grew to love it and to love Nell. Nell adds cute to "amazing genius of a man." Nell wants him to hear what the tech company says and for the two of them to enjoy a few days in San Francisco.

Callen's apartment has furniture. A studio, he has a bed, a couch, a chair where he can read, a couple of lamps, a couple of trunks for storage and used as night stands and a stand for a large screen TV. Behind the couch is a kitchen area. There is a ton of exposed brick and natural light (this is easily a $3K to $4K a month by me). Alex is sorry she had to call, all of Jake's usual caretakers are unavailable. Asked about the cane, Callen explains he "got shot a little." With a work emergency, Alex has to travel to Pomona for a day. She can be reached by cell if Jake needs anything. Callen suggests a sleepover if Alex gets stuck in Pomona. "That's not going to happen."

Fatima meets Sam at the docks. She's got a fairly new motorcycle – 2015 – with just 2,000 miles. It was a steal. It is also loud – Sam jokes she's not sneaking up on anyone. He was supposed to show her how to change the oil but with all the excitement of the prior night, he forgot. Fatima is fine with him rescheduling – she was part of the evening's excitement.

Sam is fine too – happy to help. He's off to get his tool bag from the boat when Lance Hamilton arrives. Sam provides intros between Hamilton and Fatima. Sadly, Hamilton is not enjoying a Saturday off. A kidnapped family from the Valley is Hamilton's case. That is a surprise to Sam – Hamilton only does high-level, special circumstances cases. He has one. James Wallace, former border agent as part of a task force "righteously shot" the son of Raul Ortega, Dallas's biggest drug dealer. Wallace and his family have been hiding – the missing family is believed to be Wallace's.

Sam is familiar with Ortega, who has been at the heart of brutal gang wars in both the US and in Mexico. DoJ wants to make sure the Wallace family, who have been living under the name Harris, are safe. They also want Hamilton to make sure Dallas's drug war does not become a Los Angeles drug war. Hamilton got clearance to bring Sam in but he understands it is an off-day. Sam asks "how can we help."

Sam drives Hamilton and Fatima to the NCIS motor pool. Hamilton is excited to see an Lenco BearCat – an armored vehicle. Sam explains that's not how they will be getting around and show the two the taco truck. Fatima is working her tablet with a list of Ortega's known associates in Los Angeles. Opening the back of the truck by putting her hand on a logo, Fatima is ready to work.

After asking about the truck's "bubble" – it covers a high-res camera – Hamilton fills in Sam about the Wallace house. No blood or gunshot residue at the house. If this was a straight act of revenge, all that would be found in the house. A kidnapping is dangerous – gets men like Sam and Hamilton on the case. Sam wonders if the Wallace family is going to be moved to Texas to Ortega can carry out the revenge himself.

Noticing an odd seam on the truck, Hamilton wonders what is in a specific panel. Sam is impressed. Putting his hand on another logo, the panel opens with all sorts of tactical gear and weapons. Hamilton wants his own taco truck. Fatima comes out of the front of the truck. He has a Chevy Suburban rented to top Ortega enforced Ignacio Rodriguez.

Hamilton provides the background on Rodriguez – been with Ortega since he was ten, tied to at least five murders, highly loyal. Fatima has him pulling up to a location in Van Nuys but there is a blind spot in the surrounding cameras. She sends the address to Sam and Hamilton's phones. Sam's idea that the family was kidnapped so they could be brought back to Texas to be killed is looking stronger by the minute.

Callen offers to make lunch for Jake or order in sandwiches from Bay Cities. Callen suggests ordering a movie on TV, maybe watching a Clippers game. Jake isn't interested in much.

The taco truck is at the last known location of Rodriguez's Suburban. There is the Shalom Bodega but little else in the area. With no access to security cameras in the area, Fatima starts to investigate the bodega. Sam is on the other computer in the truck and has a full rundown on the owner, Avron Berry including a long history of drug and gun charges. Fatima is stunned – she though only Eric and Nell could run background that quickly. Sam stops her. Just because he knows how to run a background check doesn't mean he want to do it.

Hamilton asks Fatima to zoom in using the high-res camera on the awning of the bodega. Seeing a security camera, Fatima can't find a wireless signal to download and monitor what's being recorded. Stating the hard drive is ancient and probably closed circuit, all footage is probably recorded to a hard drive. They need the footage and to make sure the Wallace family are not being held in the bodega.

Fatima volunteers. Rightly, she explains she can walk in to a bodega without attracting too much attention. The 500-pounds plus of Hanna-Hamilton looking like cops muscle will likely draw a crowd. Hamilton is disappointed – he was wearing his "dope streetwear." Sam asks him not to use the word "dope" again.

Taking speakers off the wall at the bar is how Deeks is spending his Saturday off. That and some faux drumming and air guitar to Twisted Sister. Kensi arrives and is entertained by Deeks shaking his blonde locks like when he was wearing a Twister Sister costume. Deeks objects to the term costume, it was Dee's performance attire and the photo Kensi is talking about was from when he was 10. He showed her that photo believed their love and trust would stop her from using it to make fun of him. Kensi says he was "so wrong."

Deeks is taking down the speakers and after replacing the old TV’s in the bar because the bar is closed. He thinks today is a good day to modernize . He has new equipment, the wireless speakers are in and he's going to hook up new TVs. Kensi is freaking out. "Project Bar Modernization" is on hold. The bar is closed to host a Heal the Bay fundraiser. They discuss the bar scheduling app that Deeks wanted Kensi to download – she did not. Deeks is fine, he'll rehang the speakers, Heal the Bay and then start "Project Bar Modernization".

Fatima walks into the bodega. Packages of food are on the ground, Berry has been beaten. After being told the store was closed, Fatima offers to help – asking if the first aid kit is in the backroom. She's walking there before Berry can stop her. What can stop her, Berry's brother – also beaten - and his gun. Fatima is going nowhere.

The brothers want to pat Fatima down but she keeps backing away from them. Sam and Hamilton arrive. The brothers drop their weapons when ordered. Fatima is off to the backroom to find the security hard drive while Sam and Hamilton speak with the Berry brothers. Fatima finds the hard drives and is taking them to download on the truck.

Still trying to connect with Jake, talk of baseball turns into Jake preferring Fortnite. Callen suggests cards. After Jake turns down the opportunity to play "kids games" (Go Fish, Crazy Eights, War), Callen is teaching his nephew Blackjack.

The Berry brothers are not interested in cooperating. With two different agencies looking into their business, Sam suggests cooperating – the brothers are in big trouble. They do not want to go to jail labeled as a snitch. Sam reminds them of the life choices they've made. Avron Berry says as a black man and a Jewish man with "both sides" not interested in calling the Berry brothers their own, he didn't have a lot of choices in his life. Hamilton speaks about his Jewish background and not fitting in. He thinks the Berry brothers need to get over it.

They do. Rodriguez was looking to buy whatever the brothers had to sell – six AR-15's and a GMC Denali. When the brothers got the guns and vehicle, Rodriguez realized the brothers had no muscle and took it all. Sam promises to put in a good word with the DA.

Walking through the armory, Eric is worrying about checked bags versus carry-ons. Nell has news. Starting to cry, she's worried he is going to think she manipulated him and the situation. Mama Jones hasn't been feeling well and doesn't doctor regularly. Finally, Mrs. Jones visted the doctor at the insistence of Nell's father. She has coronary heart disease and it is in an advanced stage. The family found the Osher Center for Integrative Medicine where they mix Eastern and Western treatment practices. The Osher Center is in San Francisco. The Jones are moving there. Nell is thinking of moving there as well. Eric asks why Nell kept this from him. She does not want him to feel pressured. He hugs her as she cries.

Kensi and Deeks are fighting over rehanging the speaker. When Kensi pulls the speaker wire out of the wall – too far out, completely out of the wall – rehanging the speaker is out. Deeks isn't worried – at least they have the new TVs. Plugging in the TV over the bar causes Deeks to be shocked and the building's circuits to be blown.

Kensi wants to cancel the event. Deeks doesn't – they need to heal the bay. Kensi thinks running the bar is crazy. They have been through so much, survived all these life-threatening situations. And they're always fine. Deeks agrees – "life-threatening scenarios are sort of our forte." But with the bar they are fighting all the time. It isn't working. They can't agree on the name, the food, the staff. It is a constant source of stress. They're also losing money. As a perfect team in all other aspects of their lives, it is time to rethink the bar.

While Hamilton is very complimentary of Fatima's undercover work in the taco truck, she nitpicks the errors she made on her first impromptu undercover. Comparing undercover work to martial arts, Hamilton says it is practice that makes people better and better. Fatima is grateful for the support. Sam moves to the back of the truck – he was driving them away from the Berry brothers' bodega. Hamilton gets a text message from the Dallas PD Gang Unit – five men have been sent to Los Angeles. Now Sam knows why Rodriguez needed the AR-15's.

On the security video, Fatima sees Christina Wallace – James Wallace's wife being held by Ortega's men. Sam realizes that the gang isn't going to kill Wallace, they're going to kill his wife. Wallace killed someone Ortega loved, Ortega is going to do the same. The extra firepower from the Berry brothers is likely to protect themselves from Wallace – a highly trained border agent who could pick them off.

Fatima asks about the Amanda Wallace – James and Christina's daughter. If they were on the run, Sam thinks the safest place for Amanda would be with her father. With James hunting Rodriguez, they have no idea where he would hide her. On Fatima's computer screen, Rodriguez's Suburban is located near a house in Chatsworth. Team Taco Truck is on their way.

Betting with pretzels, Jake is learning the finer points of blackjack wagering from Uncle Callen. A knock on the door is "Deeks, don't shoot me." Callen mentions the lack of power. Deeks knows. He's also wondering if bar ownership is for him. Listing all the things that are going wrong, Jake can help Deeks with the non-working streaming TV's – "it's not hard." Overlooking the salt being poured in his wound, Deeks just got a helper. Callen wants to help but with his leg injury, Deeks will call him only if he and Jake take out the Westside electrical grid.

Thinking Rodriguez and his men are in a short-term vacation rental home that is supposed to be vacant, heavily armed Sam, Hamilton and Fatima are going in. In a pool and patio area that looks exactly like Stan King's pre-blown-up back yard, Sam, Hamilton and Fatima find several dead gang members. Fatima finds a middle school sweatshirt – the middle school where Amanda Wallace is enrolled. She likely saw the killings.

Hamilton realizes that the gang was not staying at the house, Wallace and his daughter were. Rodriguez's men found them and tried to kill them. Sam is not so sure if it is found or lured. Looking at the position of the dead men, Sam thinks the gang members were lured to the house, two were shot immediately, the third was tortured. "With his daughter here," Fatima notes. Sam realizes that Wallace is looking for his wife and nothing is going to stop him.

Jake has the bar back in business – wifi rebooted, TV's streaming. He's even connected the wireless speakers to the TV's. Deeks thanks Jake for saving his bar and his marriage. Kensi realizes she and Deeks need to hire professionals to help them with the bar and passes an very happy Jake $20.

At the Chatsworth house, Fatima found a Gilly – which is an Alexa without having to get clearance from Amazon. The Gilly will record certain conversations – which is why they probably couldn't get clearance from Amazon. Hamilton is stunned people have things like a Gilly in their homes. The shooting was recorded. Wallace's voice was matched using cell phone recordings. Amanda Wallace was with her father when the shooting happened – he had Amanda close her eyes.

The man who was tortured gave up the location of Wallace's wife by neighborhood, not exact address. Sam figures the home was likely known to the task force. Searching for homes owned by Texas residents in the area, Fatima finds a home owned by the brother of an Ortega gang member. Sam is driving the taco truck to the house.

Fatima approaches the house on foot, looking into vehicles parked on the street. In a pick-up truck she finds a terrified little girl with a gun. Announcing she's a federal agent, Fatima apologizes for startling the girl. Amanda demands to see Fatima's badge while not putting the gun down. Fatima shows Amanda her badge, explaining that she is with NCIS and with her partners, they are going to help Amanda and her dad rescue Amanda's mom.

Amanda has Fatima toss her badge into the truck. Looking at it, Amanda says her father warned her that people would pretend to be the police and she was to shoot anyone who approached her. Fatima tells Amanda that her father wanted her to be safe. She knows it is hard to trust but she asks Amanda to trust her. Amanda puts down the gun. Fatima gets in the car and comforts the girl.

Sam and Hamilton are entering the property through the backyard. Hamilton comes across a gang member who is shot but still alive. Inside the house, Sam finds two men again both shot but alive. All of them have had the magazines in their weapons removed. The men can hear Wallace demand his wife be released.

Making their way to the stairs, Sam and Hamilton take out one of Ortega's men. Entering a bedroom, they find Rodriguez holding Christina Wallace as a human shield. James Wallace is in the corner – armed. Wallace wants to end this – Ortega's men are going to keep coming after him and after his family unless he ends it. While Hamilton keeps a gun firmly aimed at Rodriguez, Sam tries to talk Wallace down. As he starts to lower his gun, Wallace yells "mule kick" to his wife. She kicks Rodriguez like a mule, breaking free. Sam and Hamilton end the threat.

Fatima brings Amanda to her parents. James Wallace is proud of his daughter. Sam and Hamilton share smiles with Fatima.

Nell is waiting for Eric in San Francisco on a street where kids are on skateboards. Eric arrives, asking if he is officially old if he thinks a kid on a skateboard should be wearing a helmet. Nell thinks that's tough when you're "rocking a Supreme cap."

The job interview as amazing – leading a team with cutting edge home security capabilities. He never dreamed he could have such a position. There is something he has to tell her about the job that will drastically change their lives. Nell is concerned. Eric explains they'll be rich – "stupid rich." With the money he has been offered, Nell could take some time off and take care of her mother. Nell makes it clear, she does not want her situation impacting his decision. Eric makes it equally clear, Nell Jones has had an impact on every decision he ever made. If Nell is going to be in San Francisco, Eric will be there too.

Bringing the HellCat to the bar, Fatima is going in – she's cold. Hamilton asks about food. Fatima suggests beers at the bar, Leo's Taco Truck after. When Fatima leaves, Sam asks about Hamilton. He's doing the best he can, as is Sam. They are both fighting demons. Hamilton asks Sam again if he wants out of LA, Hamilton would be happy to work with Sam. Sam wants to go but not yet. Hamilton understands.

Jake is now learning to play pool with Uncle Callen. Sam and Hamilton join Kensi and Fatima at the bar – Deeks is bartending. He's also changed his workout – more time spent on his "traps." Hamilton is impressed. Kensi would normally be handing beers to Sam and Hamilton to free but since it is a fundraiser…. The men are generous. Looking at the bar, Hamilton wants to know if it is legal to have a shark on the wall. Kensi says it is fake but Deeks thought she caught it in Mexico. Deeks repeats that falsehood.

Sam is about to tell Callen about his day when Alex arrives. She's furious that Jake is in a bar. Deeks explains it is his fault – don't be "mad at your brother" – but Jake fixed all the electronics in the place so they could host a fundraiser. Alex is a little impressed by the Heal the Bay fundraiser.

Callen wants to earn his way back into his sister's and nephew's life. Jake wants that too. Alex is undecided. They leave and Callen is alone.

What head canon can be formed from here: While this is certainly a better episode than "One of Us" or "Born to Run", it is another missed opportunity episode. Nobody knows what James Wallace was going through more than Sam and that wasn't even implied. Again, the episode was well done, Bill Goldberg's Lance Hamilton was much better in this hour but this could have been a great episode, not just a good one.

Episode number: 235 overall, episode 19 of season 10.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la

9 notes · View notes