#as businessmen their words are essentially useless and they know that

[medichamcham]

Got any jealousy headcannon for Giorose? Like, who get jealous easily and what they do about it?

oh god first of all thank you for making me uncover old headcanons i thought about ages ago HAHAHAH im very happy to be able to talk about it again!!

ngl i can't rose as the jealous type at all? he really doesn't understand why people become jealous either and is mostly oblivious to it

he might get bummed out at most but it's usually not much of a problem. of course that doesn't mean he gets annoyed with giovanni, but it never comes from jealousy

(also, it probably helps that giovanni is a ruthless and allround ill-tempered man who is generally hostile towards others, with rose being one of the very few exceptions)

on the other hand, i do think giovanni is the one who occasionally becomes jealous of rose hahah. i mean, this is the guy who has a perpetual desire for money, control, and power; he's bound to have some possessive tendencies in relationships

i do think giovanni doesn't get straight up pissed off or anything, but he may become somewhat vexed when it comes down to it. he's not above being petty either, like messing with whoever is being a little too close to rose for comfort

rose is attuned to people and has a natural charm that easily draws attention to him without trying, and his generally open hearted and affectionate disposition may well easily be mistaken for flirting. which might be, against his better judgement, perceived that way for giovanni when they're at a public space like a pub or some fancy gathering. especially when the person who rose is talking to has a similar personality

since giovanni doesn't want to make a scene, he might appear a lot more moody and cold out of nowhere, even though he insists he's fine. however rose can clearly tell something's up because giovanni shows his emotions solely through body language, never through words, and he doesn't conceal them as adeptly as he wants to think

so of course giovanni doesn't confront rose about this directly. but i suppose he does become more domineering(?) with rose when they're alone as a form of catharsis, in a way that you might scream into a pillow to get the frustration out

as an example, i like to think giovanni is inexplicably more aggressive and raw when he kisses rose, less worried about hurting him and simply indulging himself with his need for control, might even leave some teeth marks or hickeys on spots because he gets carried away in his actions

(of course, rose loves when giovanni is like this, even though he doesn't know where it's exactly coming from... he might have a hunch but he doesn't dare to accuse giovanni of being jealous HAHAH)

[saharaedulive]

CAREER DEVELOPMENT STARTS WITH ENGLISH

Want to speak better English? Do you ever feel like you are in a trap whenever someone tries to communicate in the English language? 75% of people who do not use English as their first language can relate. 

Why is English important?

The main reason is for communication. Good speaking skills help with career development by impressing people in public , as it indicates the ability in leadership, professionalism and the defined qualities which are critical for job and market matters. If people have a common language for communication, it would be easy to convert everything we want to convey. And English is the one that connects everyone in the world.

Nowadays, English language usage is increasing due to many reasons and that's why people say English is important. We can see many people searching wherever they can for a better English learning platform and the ad of each and every English literacy platform is also on a hike.

English is essential for getting a job

Proper and clear language is important for any job in today's scenario. As people run towards overseas jobs, the main asset they need is proper English language skill. Without that the degree and talent certificates are useless. And even if they are looking for a job in local areas too, without understanding English they can't even work at any level.

Business communication is in English

Doing business all day all long within an area is a loss. Growing business worldwide give more success and money. So to grow our business internationally, one should have a good hold on English. Then only we can communicate with businessmen in our mother country.

Competitive exams' prep

There are many competitive exams for job selections like IELTS , OET, TEF, SAT etc… inorder to prepare for that we should be thorough with the English language, then only we can get selected and get a good job overseas. There may be many platforms that provide best IELTS training centers that provide both online and offline training.

Make you a perfect person

You may think how English makes us a perfect person. It is not that difficult!! Perfect in the sense- on career side. When you speak English fluently without any gap filling words, that enhance your personality. People would get easily impressed with your language skill and may accept you wherever and whenever you appear. Good em malish skill and confidence may help you shine out from the crowd and always get an attention from all the people. 

what does English provide in career development?

There are varieties of options when one chooses their career. And it may not be a lie if one says English is important for all those fields.

IT field - To understand the basics and many other matters in technology one would be professional with English language, also they can attend all the IT classes worldwide.

Finance - There are many guidelines, rules and regulations worldwide when it comes to finance. Inorder to handle all that professionally, you should have a hand in English.

Marketing and business - English the mutual language used for communication on this world through internet, social media and in person too. So if we have to grow our business or marketing skills, not only a crooked mind but also a fluent English.

Education and training - To educate all the students worldwide it will be useful and make a greater impact if we are Pro in English language. So that we can connect with international students and also can teach English to our local students too.

Travel and tourism - Traveling worldwide and meeting different kind of people would make us understand how important the English language is. And also if we work as a tourist guide then it is not only important to know different places, but also perfect English.

In short, English is touching each and every area of jobs and there are many more too.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[winterromanov]

Prompt idea: AU meeting Bucky on a flight back to nyc, hitting it off but neither has the guts to ask for #s and regret it, but they run into each other later

pairing: bucky x reader

You’d made it to your terminal with minutes to spare. Your chest is heaving from violently running from one part of LAX to the other, dragging your broken, three-wheeled suitcase lamely behind you. Nevertheless--you make it, passport and boarding pass between your teeth, sweat pooling in the small of your back. You don’t run, you absolutely don’t run, but you make an exception for the two hundred and fifty dollars you’d spent on this flight back to JFK. And the wages you would otherwise miss if you didn’t make it back to New York City tonight.

Relief flooding you, you quickly join the back of the queue heading out onto the plane. You manically check your passport, hoping you’d not managed to drop something on the way over. Because that would just be typical you, wouldn’t it? 

“That is some impeccable timing you’ve got there.”

You look up from your frantic scanning of essential documents and see a man--also travelling alone, by the looks of it, the space between him and the couple in front too wide to be friends or relatives--his grin teasing and light. If you weren’t sweating enough already, the gaze of this man would probably do it. Blue eyes, tired from travel, maybe. Dark hair. Very pretty. Extremely pretty.

You attempt to pull yourself together, throwing him a slightly flustered smile back. The queue moves gradually forwards and you tug your unwieldy suitcase forward, grimacing as it squeaks loudly linoleum. “Let’s say that punctuality is not one of my strong suites.”

The man rubs his eyes in exhaustion. “And let’s say that I’m the exact opposite.”

“You’re one of those people who arrives at departures like seven hours early, huh?”

“Eight.” He smiles, and you notice his hand luggage is a neat little backpack, unlike your ten-year-old faithful monster half-broken at your feet. “Need to leave plenty of time for duty free, you know?”

He’s not holding any paper bags from the expensive cosmetics counters, no cut price bottles of wine, not even any snacks. Not a shopaholic, just anxious. You’re flustered, late, but not unobservant, even of strangers. “I mean, I wouldn’t. As much as the bargain Chanel was calling my name, I did literally just sprint here. I think my sister thinks I’m insane.”

His expression is tongue-in-cheek. “Not just your sister.”

“That’s a brave statement from someone I’ve just met.” You run a hand through your mussed-up hair in an attempt to tame it, not helped by the humid LA heat. Attractive man is talking to you, after all. That doesn’t happen so often. “You always like that?”

“Not always,” he says, but his sentence is cut short as he reaches the front of the queue and hands one of the stewardesses his boarding pass and passport. You jerk your bag off to the side to the second open desk, letting another go through your documents, but by the time you’re finished (as always, the lady seems to scrutinise every pixel in your photograph--your misjudged bangs from three years ago don’t make you look that different, surely) the gentle, teasing man has gone.

-

The air hostess directs you to your seat at the back of the plane and you find you’re in one of the sections to the right, not really looking at the other passengers as you try to find row F. When you eventually find where you’re supposed to remain for the duration of the flight, you blink in surprise.

“Mad girl,” To his credit, the man looks just as surprised at the coincidence as you do, looking away from the phone in his hand. “You sitting here too?”

“Yeah.” You half smile, struggling to stuff your bag in the overhead locker. He clambers out to help but you manage to squeeze it, wedge it in between his backpack and the lady in front’s briefcase. “And for the record, my punctuality aside, I’m not actually insane. Probably more verging along the lines of ridiculously ordinary.”

“I happen to think that ordinary is a myth,” he replies, subtly scanning your figure as you slide into the seat beside him. He has a copy of McEwan’s Atonement on his open tray, dog-eared and yellowed, perhaps borrowed from a friend. “Never met anyone ordinary in my life.”

“You might have to take that back after spending five and a half hours in my company.”

His glance is bemused as he shifts the headphones looped round his neck--you can hear faint conversation, listening to an audiobook or podcast of some sort. “I’m Bucky, by the way. Well. James. But everyone calls me Bucky.”

“(Y/N),” you offer in return, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

-

It’s funny, because not once in the many years you’ve been old and responsible enough to travel alone has anyone engaged in as much conversation with you. For someone clearly so anxious about flying Bucky is open and friendly and funny and you think, maybe this is his coping mechanism. Then again--you can feel something lingering below the surface, something that makes you feel that you’re actually getting on, that you could have met in any place in any town and felt exactly the same. He asks about your family and you ask about his. Apparently he was in LA because his little sister is at film school and crippled by homesickness, so his body in her apartment for a few days made her feel a little less alone, a little less far away. He knows you’re a photographer, spending the last six days taking pictures for a client’s wedding on Venice Beach.

A couple of hours into the flight you begin to scroll through movies on the screens in the back of the seat, discussing the ones you both have or haven’t seen. He likes everything other than films about space--they give him existential horror--and you’re a bit wary around anything scary, so his finger hovers over Paddington 2.

“Surely a film about a well-mannered bear with a British accent can’t cause any problems,” he says, offering one of the headphones he’s plugged in between the seats. He wants you to watch a movie with him. Literally with him. 

Well. You’re not going to say no. You take the ear-bud and pop it in, easing back into your chair, the film entertaining but his bright facial expressions even more so.

-

He tenses as the plane lands, his knuckles white round the arms of his seat. You wonder if it would be cool to splay your hand over his own, squeezing it in an attempt to calm his nerves. But you don’t know him, really. You don’t know him well enough to do that. And you wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

So you lay back, close your eyes, feeling just a bit ridiculous as a vacuum opens in your stomach.

-

You’re tempted to ask him for his number as you make your way to the luggage carousel, walking in step with him. Instead you’re both enveloped in silence. Instead of actually, you know, fucking saying anything, you spend so much time trying to consider the words rather than biting the bullet and just doing it. Your lack of punctuality doesn’t just extend to your inability to make it anywhere until the last minute. 

You often don’t say things until it’s too late, too.

“Have you got anyone waiting for you at arrivals?” he asks, pulling a cap from inside his bag over his head. The airport is packed, as usual, and you keep getting thrown around by tourists in sunhats and rushing businessmen. His hands grip round your shoulders to steady you immediately, towering above you.

You like him. You like him you like him you like him.

“Nope,” you reply, and a curious look passes over his face. The luggage carousel is in view and yours comes by but Bucky reaches out first, placing it down next to you. His doesn’t come long after. “What about you?”

“Nah. We could share a cab, if you want?” You usher out in the main entrance where you can see the black 11pm sky, hazy with the artificial orange from the lights in the city. “I never asked. Which part of the city are you from?”

“Queens.”

“Ah,” he grimaces, “I’m Brooklyn. That’s quite the distance.”

“In opposite directions.” You wonder if you visibly sink, melting between the tiles on the floor. “It’s cool, I was going to get the subway anyway.”

“We could go Queens first, I don’t mind--”

There looks to be hundreds of cabs lined up outside along the entrances, people piling in and out and journeying back into the city. You’re stood opposite each other and he’s looking down at you, face conflicted, but you know it’s stupid for him to share a car with you all the way to Queens only to have to spend even longer to get back to his own place.

Just ask him for his number, you fucking moron. This doesn’t have to be the end.

Your mouth opens, the vowels and the consonants on the edge of your tongue but again. Again your words fail to come, trailing behind you like your dumbass suitcase with its missing wheel. “No, it’s okay. I’ll get the train.”

“I...” Bucky starts, and for a moment you think he’s going to be the one who asks. The one who says he doesn’t want this to be the first and only time you meet. But it’s just your luck you meet someone almost as useless about these things as you are. “I guess I’ll see you?”

“Yeah.” You swallow hard. “See you.”

He looks over you desperately for a second, wondering if he might touch you. A goodbye squeeze of the shoulder, maybe a hug, but instead he rests his arms at his sides and gives you one last sweet smile before heading into a cab. You wait until his cab disappears before you decide to move. You can’t bring yourself to do so until then.

-

As soon as you get back to your apartment you face plant your pillow and scream into the fabric for at least five minutes.

-

The months pass quickly as they always seem to do and while Bucky stays in the back of your mind--mainly because every other man you meet is nowhere near as attractive as him, physically or otherwise--you don’t let it weigh you down. You know the possibility of ever meeting him again are next-to-nothing, and who the fuck spends their time pining after a man they met once on a plane? You’re often quite pathetic, but not that pathetic.

It’s July when you’re contacted to photograph the wedding of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts out in the country, the weather warm and the sky faultless blue. An old, crumbling manor house serves as the perfect backdrop for the big day, the ceremony itself held in the grassy, wildflower-adorned grounds in front of the porch. You follow around the staff as they prepare in a dusty pink summer dress, snapping some photographs of the exterior before the guests arrive for the vows. Eventually, you trail into the kitchen, hoping to get some pictures of the cake before it is cut and distributed out.

It’s then--it’s then you hear a familiar voice, shouting for the head caterer.

“Hey, I was just checking that--” 

He pauses when his eyes settle on you. You almost drop your incredibly expensive camera into a bowl of flan.

“(Y/N)?” James says, mouth swinging open like a door on a loose hinge, “Jesus. I didn’t...”

“I’m the photographer,” you reply, like it isn’t obvious. You’re just surprised. “I’m Tony and Pepper’s photographer.”

He blinks. “I’m a friend of Tony’s. My God. Fate was really smiling on me today, huh?”

You grin is borderline ridiculous. “I think maybe she was.”

-

He writes his number on his reservation card with Natasha Romanoff’s lipstick. The night is in full swing. Everyone is either drunk or dancing. Mostly both.

“Not letting you go this time, mad girl,” he says, his body coming closer and closer to yours until your barely centimetres apart, your breathes hanging heavy. His number is pressed into your palm. “I think I’ve been hitting my head against my bedroom wall every single day since I got into that darn cab. My landlord is going to be suing me for damages.”

You bite your lip, clutching your camera. “And I’m being a really bad photographer right now.”

“Oh, come on, no-one will notice. I know for a fact Tony’s finished almost a whole bottle of Scotch.” His smile is almost shy. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”

“No idea.” You shrug, but your eyes remain focused on his. “I think I mentioned there is absolutely nothing remarkable about me, Bucky.”

“And I think I mentioned that I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t remarkable.” His hand finds yours and you let your fingers relax in his grip, curl round them. “Dance?”

You should be taking pictures. You should be doing your job. But there is a handsome man in front of you with a smile that could make the sun rise and put the whole fucking night sky to shame. There is a man in front of you who you watched leave once already. There is a man in front of you who wants to dance, who wrote down his number in Chanel Rouge Allure, who has spent the last six months with you hidden in his dreams and a dent in his wall as a receipt.

You can’t not dance with him.

my masterlist

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[soraratranslations]

DADS - Chapter 1

Ch. 1 - An Erotic Rare Book 

In this world, there is an extremely rare and valuable book called "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony".

Just as the name implies, to practice what's in this book, there must be a man and a woman rolling in the hay to harmonize their Yin and their Yang. And even though those who follow the teachings of this book acquire average results from its pages, it still ranks among the top ten books that people ardently yearn to follow.

Why do they wish to practice it? It’s really quite obvious.

Since this is such a popular book it's inevitable that it falls in the hands of a lot of perverse and crooked businessmen who take the opportunity to make easy money. They tarnish this book; these men sell pirated versions of it in large quantities, which despite being all named "Yin and Yang: Secrets of XX" have vastly different contents (which have no limit to how heinous they can be).

Suffice to say even a fool could tell that these versions are all somewhat skeevy. How amazing do you think your cultivation is, eh? You know that if you neglect it even a little bit you will go into Qi-Deviation and die, right? Does this look like a joking matter to you? 

But even though everyone knows that the books are fake, they are, somehow, frequently sold out. In the end, we don’t know what the buyers truly think about them. Are they really satisfied with them?

And although piracy is rampant, the real book is still out there. And so many cultivators know who owns it that it is said to be an open secret.

The XiYin Imperial Family are precisely the ones who own this rare cultivation book. The entire family works arduously to understand this book and, allegedly, their couple with the best Cultivation Base has already ascended to the Heavens.

And they achieved this without neglecting either their careers or their families. Making them triumph in life and turn everyone under the heavens envious! 

But even though everyone knows where this high-quality cultivation book is, few would actually dare steal it. This is because the XiYin Royal Family are not to be messed with; they are the type of people that would never stand to be insulted without retaliating. But also, even if they stole it, no matter how hard they try, it’s not sure that they could even be able to practice what this book preaches, as it isn’t for everyone. 

Let's look at the title of this book once more - “Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony". Do you understand what the words Yin and Yang mean? 

If you wish to practice this, there is an obvious crucial prerequisite... That's right, you need to have a cultivation partner! 

So, tell me, Daoist friend, are you married?

This one question will probably obliterate more than half of the possible suitors to this art, which happens to be all of the old single dogs reading this! And so, since it's useless to steal the real deal, it's better to just buy a few pirated copies and enjoy them! 

Besides, even if you have a cultivation partner, practicing this book isn't for every cultivation couple. 

And to prove this let’s take into consideration the XiYin Royal Family. These people don’t selfishly keep this book to themselves. In fact, when a well-established and renowned family of cultivators holds a wedding ceremony for cultivation partners, they will generously gift them a copy of "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony" as a congratulatory gift. 

But strangely, every single married couple who was at first united in studying these profound scriptures falls apart and breaks up after a few years.

It was like a curse!

Some curious few have asked these estranged couples why they broke up, but they either shook their heads and said nothing, or looked up to the heavens and sighed, refusing to answer. 

Over time, the tale of this first-class cultivation book "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony" has been shrouded in a dark shadow and the couples who were lucky enough to receive it no longer dare to practice it recklessly.

All those who cultivate it end up breaking up! It’s incredibleFully effective, you are really getting your money's worth!

The reason why was obvious. There wasn't a single person who actually believed that the XiYin Family was offering the real version of the book. Otherwise, how could we explain how the Yin Family's couple’s cultivation flourished and their relationship deepened, but every other couple’s bound would be torn to pieces? 

To clarify things, the XiYin Imperial Family had to come forward and explain what had been happening. Although the cultivation in "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony" was very straightforward, there existed an essential prerequisite that was asked from the cultivation partners. 

So, if the two of them did not feel genuine love for each other, a love sturdier than gold and capable to outlast life and death, they shouldn’t, under any circumstances, try to practice it or they would end up Qi deviating and dying. 

After they spoke up, many cultivators realized what had happened. And honestly, that was quite understandable; frankly speaking, meat pies didn't simply fall from the sky. Did they really think that it was that easy? To be comfortable and not have to face any hardships, but also to easily increase your cultivation level? Yea, right; dream on! 

No wonder the XiYin Imperial Family members had always been so cautious and taken so long to choose their cultivation partners. In fact, taking this into account, it's better to have no partner than to end up with a shoddy one. Those cultivators who didn't succeed and instead broke up certainly didn't share a worthy enough love. 

No wonder they kept silent after they broke. Who would want to admit they got into their relationship with such weak feelings? 

But in terms of cultivation requirements, "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony" asks for rather reasonable requisites. Take “The Merits of the Five Element Chaos” in comparison. This book is amongst the top ten first-class rare cultivation books and requests that the practitioners must have within themselves the spiritual roots of the Five Elements.

For those who are more eccentric, there is also a book titled "The Revered Book of the Chrysanthemum" which ranks first in the list of top ten unwanted first-class rare cultivation books.

Why is it unwanted, you ask? 

It is said that the creator of this book possessed the body of a man but the heart of a woman. They used all the knowledge they had gathered in their life time to create this amazing skill which allowed them to change their sex. But if someone wished to practice this, they must first castrate themselves. If they cultivated it successfully, men could become women, women could become men, and they could also change their appearances to those of others. 

This kind of cool skill, most cultivators would rather die than get it!  If the average cultivator gets this rare cultivation book, they will either immediately toss it out on the street or change its cover and give it to an enemy.

Anyway, in regards to  "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony", despite it having such a good and widespread reputation, because of its particular prerequisite very few cultivators actually achieved success with it. 

Yin Feilian, the current Empress of XiYin, and the Emperor Consort Yue LinYuan are one of the few rare successful cases. They were only a little over two hundred years old when they successfully concluded the Foundation Building Layer. 

 That evening, the couple was in their bedroom cultivating arduously and alternating from position to position according to the drawings in the book. As their cultivation reached its climax, the sky and earth changed drastically. 

For a moment, the wind surged dragging the clouds and thunder burst in loud rumbles waking up everyone in the XiYin Royal Palace.  Cultivators were especially sensitive to these changes of the sky and earth, so it wasn't long before the Palace where Yin FeiLian and Yue LinYuan lived was surrounded by noblemen. 

One of them, a white-haired old lady, slowly stepped forward and, while looking at the thunder in the sky which was getting closer and closer, earnestly said, "This is the thunder of a Golden Core Tribulation!" 

The old man who was beside her frowned, "FeiLian and LinYuan have only been cultivating for 210 years, isn't it too early for them to pass a tribulation?" 

Unlike other cultivators who were impatient to pass their tribulations and ascend to Heaven, the Yin family, as the mainland's oldest and most prominent cultivation family, had a more long-term vision, and regarded their cultivation in a rather shrewd manner. 

It wasn't good to rush the cultivation. Being too hasty would definitely lead to an unstable foundation, which would, without a doubt, hinder any future progress. 

Behind them, a pale young man coughed a few times, "They were probably enjoying themselves, and forgot to hold back their layer progress."

Although he murmured, everyone there was a cultivator who possessed good eyes and good ears so he was clearly heard. 

For a moment, the sound of his coughing spread in all directions, making everyone feel somewhat embarrassed. But no matter how awkward the situation was, everyone knew that he was probably right. If it wasn't because of that, who would try to pass a tribulation in the middle of the night?! 

The young man who had spoken was Yin FeiLian and Yue LinYuan's beloved son, Yin Li. It was said that dragons birthed dragons, phoenix's birthed phoenixes, and a mouse's son would know how to dig a hole. However, this proved itself wrong when it came to Yin Li.

Both of his parents were literary scholars and skilled at all the Four Arts. Yet he was exceedingly plain - not a single literary or artistic gene had been passed onto him. 

Instead of wasting time reciting poetry, composing texts or any of that sentimental nonsense, it was certain that his time was better spent assisting his Imperial Mother in dealing with the kingdom’s affairs.

So, because of that, once he came of age he took over his mother's work. 

Yin FeiLian was moved to tears; she hadn't birthed her son in vain! She had waited for this day for so long - at long last, she could finally travel around with her husband and enjoy her time engaging in... Engaging in the affairs of love! 

Still, that day Yin Li's mood wasn't great. Just like the two noble elders had said, XiYin's Imperial Family's Daioist Empress and Emperor Consort, his parents, had formed their Golden Core a little too early. It seemed like he had been spoiling them too much, which lead them to behave more and more recklessly. 

It seemed that it was time to tighten the reins and let that irresponsible couple experience what human suffering was. 

It took three days and three nights for Yin Feilian and Yue Linyuan to pass their tribulation. 

Many XiYin Royal Family's ancestors remained outside, keeping an eye on the passing of the tribulation. Fortunately, although this couple was unpredictable, their cultivation was very sturdy. 

Their Golden Core Formation tribulation happened deep in the Winter, and so its thunders followed one after the other, each one more Earth-Shattering than the one before. This culminated into a final thunder which hit the Palace where the couple lived, shattering it into a pile of rumble. 

Once the thunderous tribulation ended, the dark clouds dispersed, rays of light in all the seven colours of the rainbow brightened everything they touched, and cranes flew in from distant places. This meant that Yin Feilian and Yue Linyuan had succeed and finally formed their Golden Core. 

From within the ruins, the couple emerged hand in hand with a golden halo surrounding their bodies, filled with astonishing vigor. 

The two of them bowed down and courteously apologised to the elders keeping watch over their tribulation, "Our break-through was too sudden and we were not prepared. We apologise for causing trouble to our ancestors." 

The white-haired old lady looked at them kindly, "No harm was done. It was most fortunate that you managed to pass the tribulation. From now on the XiYin Imperial Family has two more Golden Core cultivators. Congratulations!"

Everyone there belonged to the same family, so there was no need to stand at courtesy. Having seen Yin Feilian and Yue Linyuan safely pass their tribulation, the XiYin Family's elders soon departed one after the other, leaving behind only Yin Li and a few youths of the Imperial Family. 

Yin Li expressionlessly bowed before his parents and said, "Congratulations to Esteemed Mother and Father for your breakthrough and the forming of your Golden Core." 

It is said that no one knows a son better than his father, and Yue Linyuan indeed understood his son's personality rather well. As soon as he saw his cold expression his heart stuttered - he was, without a doubt, heavy-hearted. 

He quietly looked at the Imperial Family's young descendents behind Yin Li. The girls winked at him, trying to stop themselves from laughing, and his ominous feeling grew. 

Yet, Yin Feilin was less attentive than her husband and did not notice her son's unusual mood. Full of self-satisfaction, she bragged, "We didn't expect breaking through would be this easy! It just shows that "Yin and Yang: Secrets of Harmony"s meritorious teachings really are exceptional. "

Yin Li coldly said, "Esteemed Mother, you should consider the future ahead. Your highness easily broke through the Golden Core Layer, but that doesn't mean breaking through the Nascent Soul Layer will be as easy. Your Highness can seize all the opportunities today, but a shaky foundation will eventually lead to hidden dangers in future breakthroughs. Esteemed Mother's cultivation can’t diligently wield to Your highness’ desires and for that matter I have decided that, from now on, the political affairs are Your Highness's responsibility once again! "

Yin Feilian was stunned,"The political affairs? You’re telling me I have to go back to handling the state's affairs? I have to work everyday once again?!" 

She spoke so urgently she forgot to refer to herself with the imperial "We". 

Yin Li flicked his sleeves and coldly said, "That's right. Your son has now said everything he had to. Esteemed Mother, please conduct yourself well. " 

Having finished speaking, he turned and left. 

Yin Feilian wanted to chase after him, but was held back by the Imperial Family's youths. They had been Yin Li's loyal supporters since childhood and fully endorsed and assisted his every decision. They all started speaking at once, trying to persuade Yin Feilian to accept reality and well-behavedly go back to handling the tedious affairs of the state. 

Yin Feilian stomped her foot in annoyance, "You lousy wenches can speak lightly since it isn't up to you to sit on the throne in this lifetime! No, this old mother wants to abdicate the throne and cease to be the Empress!" 

Hearing her words, the young girls all dispersed laughing. They joked amongst themselves - they were in the flower of their youth and were not yet done enjoying it, who would want to make life harder for themselves and become the Empress?!

Yin Feilian had lost her temper, her heart muddled, but Yue Linyuan kept his calm and thought ahead. He quietly whispered in her ear, "This evening, we'll quietly leave. You were the Empress for over a century, your duty has come to an end. Once we leave, the Imperial Family will have to choose a new Emperor!" 

Yin Feilian looked at her husband with tender, sparkling eyes, "After so long, my dear husband is still so clever. "

The couple had made their decision. When evening came, they would take advantage of its moonless darkness and strong winds covering themselves and leisurely fly far way, ridding themselves from their troubles. 

Like they say that no one knows a son better than their father, they can also say the reverse - no one knows a father better than their son. 

Yin Li knew his father extraordinarily well, and had already foreseen his witty scheme. After returning to the Palace, he wrote a letter in quick strokes, sealed it and asked his personal guard to deliver it personally to his ancestors' hands. 

After that, he simply packed his baggage, took the servant he favoured the most, Yang Huiyan, and two late stage Golden Core cultivators of the Secret Imperial Guard, and quietly left the Imperial Palace of XiYin in a simple and unadorned carriage. 

A few hours later, the Empress got the sealed letter. After opening it she slapped her thigh and read out its words: "Messenger, hand this over safely and swiftly to Feilian and Linyuan. Your dear Li has already left, so if my mother and father are allowed to leave, the country of XiYin will have no ruler. " 

Would the old Empress really have to come out of retirement and deal with the pile of paperwork and the affairs of the throne?! 

No, it had been so hard to pass that hot potato and crawl out of that abyss of misery that she could not let herself be dragged again back into the pit! 

[tderken-blog]

The Trump Impeachment Inquiry

THE HISTORY

Ukraine has been deeply involved with the United States long before the nation began flooding mainstream media in the previous months with the introduction of Nancy Pelosi’s impeachment inquiry leveled towards United States President Donald Trump. Behind Russia, Ukraine is the largest country in Europe, and the relationship between the US and Ukraine was initially created following the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. Prior to the controversy surrounding the investigations allegedly hoping to be pursued by President Trump, the primary instance of United States-Ukraine interaction came about in 2014 when Russia invaded the nation and annexed Crimea. Since then, the United States has been providing financial and military assistance, for fear of what might happen if Russia’s aggressions were not checked.

[source]

The second issue has to do largely with an American financial investment in the businesses of the Ukraine. Recently, these relationships have come under fire, with the Hunter Biden inquiries taking the mainstage. However, scrutiny into Biden comes nearly two years after a federal investigation into Paul Manafort (Trump’s former campaign chairman) which recently concluded with a sentencing of four years in prison. The sentencing is in response to Manafort being found guilty of defrauding banks and government, and for failing to pay taxes on millions in income he received from working on Ukrainian political consulting.

[source]

Evidence of his misdoings extended from nearly ten years ago all the way up until during the 2016 election, and many of his crimes were in turn used in the investigation of Robert Mueller into his investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. In late 2017, Manafort became the very first indictment by Mueller, and he was found guilty of eight crimes in total: five convictions of tax fraud, hiding his foreign bank accounts from federal authorities, and finally defrauding two banks for more than four million dollars in loans.

[source]

Although Manafort’s trial set the precedent for the Mueller investigation, which was subsequently a driving factor which led to the impeachment resolution by Pelosi, it was never the primary focus of the special counsel. Mueller was initially placed on the investigation following Trump’s dismissal of FBI Director James Comey, who was previously leading the investigation into links between Trump associates and Russian officials. The report which was ultimately submitted to Congress by Attorney General William Barr, remains one of the most heavily debated reports in terms of both its validity and accusations.

[source]

A redacted version of the report was released by the Department of Justice on April 18, 2019 after Donald Trump chose to exercise his executive privilege of “protective assertion.” Volume I of the report essentially concluded that the investigation did not find sufficient evidence that campaign colluded or conspired with the Russian government. It does note however that a variety of the testimonies saw an invocation of the Fifth Amendment right or saw the testimonials of false or incomplete information. It also confirmed the fact that Russia had meddled in the 2016 elections in “sweeping and systematic fashion,” using organizations such as the Internet Research Agency and the Russian Military Agency to hack into the emails of the DNC (Democratic National Committee), DCCC (Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee) and spread propaganda through social media. Additionally, it did in fact make note of more than 100 contacts between Trump campaign advisors and individuals affiliated with the Russian government before and after, though it was not enough to demonstrate illegal conspiracy.

[source]

In Volume II of the report, it was essentially concluded that although Trump was not “assuredly guilty of a crime,” the report most definitely “does not exonerate him.” It also describes ten individual episodes wherein Trump may or may not have obstructed justice. All of these findings were largely overshadowed (useless for lack of a better word) by the Office of Legal Counsel’s opinion that a sitting President could not stand trial, and was largely untouchable.

[source]

Despite the fact that the Mueller investigation has long been concluded, it still remains a key point of controversy in the current impeachment trial at hand. Documents which were used as evidence within the report or redacted are now being ruled by the Justice Department to be disclosed as relevant information to the current proceedings. While the investigation’s analysis of Russian interference has little to do with Trump’s involvement with Ukraine, the report has raised a variety of legal questions surrounding Congress’ ability to investigate the Executive Branch in proceedings. Additionally, it has become clear that in Trump’s July call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky he urged Ukraine to begin an investigation into what spurred the Russian probe.

[source]

SO WHERE ARE WE NOW?

On August 12th a whistleblower complaint was filed, stating that information from multiple government officials had led the individual to believe that the President was “using his power of office to solicit interference from a foreign country in the 2020 U.S. election.” This complaint was not brought to light until September 26th, but has since been corroborated by countless pieces of evidence brought to light through the impeachment trial. Here’s what we know so far:

On July 18th, 2019, Trump placed a hold on all military aid to Ukraine with no explanation whatsoever. This was soon followed by a phone call with the Ukranian President on July 25th, where it is alleged Trump asked for two favors in exchange for renewed military assistance. The first was for the Ukraine to lead an investigation into allegations that cybersecurity technology company CrowdStrike were connected to Ukranian actors interfering in the 2016 election. The second was for the nation to lead an investigation into the business activities of Hunter Biden, who had recently joined the board of Ukranian natural gas company Burisma Holdings. At the time of the call, Joe Biden was leading in the democratic polls, and it’s likely Trump thought he would be his primary opponent in the 2020 elections.

[source]

Between the call and the eventual lift of the military hold on September 11th, Trump’s personal attorney Rudy Giuliani and contracted businessmen Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman continued to pressure Ukraine to complete the requested investigations. Throughout September, more and more information surrounding the whistleblower begins reaching the media and the public, until finally House Speaker Nancy Pelosi announces that the House will begin an impeachment inquiry.

[source]

The following day the White House releases a non-verbatim transcript of the call, essentially notes taken by nearby staff which confirm that Trump did in fact request Ukraine to investigate the Bidens, and furthermore leveraged much of the United States’ relationship and aid on his request. On October 3rd, Trump publicly announces that not only should Ukraine investigate the Biden’s, but that China should as well.

[source]

Since these proceedings important depositions by former Ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch, former presidential advisor Fiona Hill, and U.S. Department of Foreign Service Officer David Holmes have all taken place. By and large these testimonies have confirmed that the White House has been conducting rogue foreign policy operations, attacks on the State Department, and have established a direct connection between Trump and his investigation requests to Ukraine.

Since these initial private depositions, a resolution has been set by the House to set the rules for the next phase of the impeachment inquiry which is that of the public hearings.

[source]

[davidastbury]

Friday

We were walking towards the main entrance of Manchester Royal Infirmary and I was anxious and tense. A stranger appeared and asked for help - he had the look of someone sleeping rough and not getting much food. Just a glance was enough to guess what that help would be - money. He started to explain his predicament - he was a long-term patient in the hospital; he had no family and he had no friends. He had a long story to tell - I was worried and wanted to get away - but the telling of the story was important to him, and Pat listened to him. But I think it became too convoluted and improbable even for her - she managed to shut him up and asked how much he needed.

He replied - ‘Eleven pounds fifty - but I’ve already got some’. He held out both hands, showing an assortment of coins. Pat counted it out, moving coins from one hand to the other. She then took out her own money and added to his total. He nodded his head as it was counted out.

I was still worried as the glass doors slid closed behind us and we all hoped for the best.

Today In Town

She has Bette Davis eyes! She is like a beautiful goldfish blinking behind glass. Sitting under the illuminated sign displaying the single word ‘Enquiries’ - sitting all day - answering questions and handling complaints. A queue of confused, bored people, some tight-mouthed with discontent, wait their turn to speak to her. The queue is an example of self-regulation, it never gets too long, after a certain point people give up and go away - fascinating.

She’s fascinating too. She looks up and smiles bravely - even though she isn’t well. She has a cold, probably caused by the breaths of hundreds of people every day - too many people - too close together. She has a slack mouth, slightly open because her nose is blocked. Every now and then she unfolds a tight ball of tissues, rather like a golf-ball, and gently dabs her nostrils and the reddened wings of her nose. Her hair is lank and loose, shiny over the top of her head and then hanging down like thin leather straps. I can hear the clickety-clack of her fingertips on the keyboard - it’s like the sound of tiny feet running - running away - running through a dream landscape with pixies and elves!

Scandal 1966

It was a scandal at the time; it enlivened the chat in the firm’s tea room for a few days. One of the managers had been in a fight with a young man who had been staying with him. It made the papers - but the full story didn’t really appear. The manager - the dependable, loyal, seemingly conventional Roger - was taken away in an ambulance and later questioned by detectives. Two weeks or so passed and he didn’t come back to work.

It occurred to me that the reason he hadn’t appeared was sheer embarrassment and shame. He was a sensitive, secretive and thoroughly decent person - the thought of his colleagues being aware of this side of his private life must have been unbearable to him.

So I decided to call round and visit him.

He was shocked to see me and I was shocked at how he had changed - he had aged ten years. He stepped back to let me in. His flat, where he had lived for years, was like a hotel room - hardly any sign of personal tastes. Everything neat, in place, dusted and polished; everything old fashioned but well looked after, standard lamp with parchment shade, velvet curtains, books behind glass, old family pictures in steel frames, a tea trolley, carpet showing the lines of a vacuum-cleaner. I didn’t know what to say.

So I didn’t say very much. I was struck by how his face was slightly out of shape, probably not fully healed after the violence. He looked so thin and somehow hollow. Even his voice was lacking in colour. He asked about what was going on at the office and I told him things that I hoped he’d find amusing. I made out that we were struggling and needed him back. I stayed for about three-quarters of an hour.

And that was it. Roger eventually - maybe a couple of weeks or so - showed up at work and things returned to normal. But there is a footnote ... much later, I was chatting with one of the firm’s part-timers and he said that Roger had told him about my visit. Roger had said - ‘David Astbury turned up at my flat. He came to see me - and he never, never once made any mention of “the trouble” - so tactful!’

Not often I get it right.

Early Days

One of the things about her that puzzled him was her choice of music. She was an amateur musician, a violinist in the university student orchestra - and naturally, he expected her taste to run to classical composers. It didn’t. Instead, she liked the really heavy rockers of that time - James Brown, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Gene Vincent, Etta James, The Big Bopper - the really hard men of rock.

It was early days in their relationship and he felt he should enquire into this matter. Why did she like this type of music - these wild-eyed, screaming madmen?

‘Because - they are musicians’ she answered.

‘Musicians?’ he replied.

‘Yes. They are musicians and they understand the shapes of music - the dynamics, the flow of notes.’

That did it for him. It was the inconsistency that attracted her - the contrast of the softness of musical disciplines with the anarchy of their performances.

The thought of Chuck Berry understanding crochets and minims was exciting to her.

On the Train Last Night

For a few miles the train ran parallel to a motorway and we were going a lot faster than the cars. A young couple moved seats so that they can be together. We were all being quickly carried to our destinations - we have no control, no say in the matter.

The young couple are sharing their food, pouring drinks, having a laugh about something and the lights have been dimmed as the future rushes towards us.

When waiting for my appointment in the Apple Store I stopped for tea in a nearby cafe. It was late morning and already very busy. I found a table outside and settled down to watching the people passing in both directions. It was a Saturday; there were a lot of families.

Watching this flow of humanity - particularly the families - caused something to cross my mind. It wasn’t altogether rational and I more or less forgot about it until today - several months later - when talking about young people triggered the memory - it goes like this ...

How disappointing it was to look at many of the dads. So many of them attempting to look Alpha males with their odd haircuts, bulging arms, badly-shaved faces and sagging shorts displaying legs disfigured with smudged tattoos of dragons, sculls and daggers. More disappointing was their rather heavy manner with their children - essentially, the strong man imposing his priorities on the weak.

I wish I could have explained to them that they are barking up the wrong tree. Masculinity is essentially giving way; strength is actually not using it. The male, when true to his nature, is the gentler of the sexes - particularly where children are concerned - where his tenderness is balanced by the common-sense of the mother. Every act of concession, of recognising the burgeoning individuality of his offsprings will be remembered with affection - instead of the heavy ranting of a macho bully.

People ... #28

A young Australian couple; he got a job with the BBC and quickly made a name for himself in the news departments - in fact he went to the very top. He covered the aftermath of the shooting of President Kennedy and then the Apollo 11 moon landing - the two extremes of US history.

There was a lot of interesting talk in their home but his wife always mentioned her younger brother back in Australia. She loved talking about him and clearly admired him more than anyone. But visitors were puzzled - the brother didn’t appear to be doing anything; he was perpetually on ‘walkabout’ in the Northern Territory - endlessly walking. He would be missing for months, sometimes years.

She adored him.

Away from Home 2013

I remember those dreary hotels - those carpets - and worst of all those breakfasts! Coming down in the morning - twenty tables, each occupied by a single male (mid-week businessmen), each crouched behind a newspaper and eating boiled eggs to the sound of a loop-tape playing ‘Hello Dolly‘.

Alone

I could hear them getting closer - a group of young people, singing loudly. It’s that time of year. And this is their territory; new-build blocks of flats, warehouse conversions, boutique hotels - all very nice. I couldn’t recognise the song but the females were giving it all they had - the men were pretty useless. It wasn’t a cold night; the girls in sleeveless, backless dresses; the men casual and cool. I suppose they were going from one party to the next in this dreamland of tall buildings and coloured lights.

How the drinks had freed them from themselves! How they radiated friendship and randy goodwill. And then they passed me and for quite a while I floated in the slipstream of their happiness.

Frank and Jane ... 1965

They made a dreadful mess of things - twice! I must say that what I’m writing is conjecture - neither Frank nor Jane discussed their relationship with me; I wasn’t even very close to the story as it dragged out - I was shocked like everyone else. The only merit in what I have to say is the softening remoteness in time past, where the playful mixture of ambiguities of true events is stirred with a fanciful fascination and cries out to be told.

I was there when they first met and I made the mistake - and so did one or two others - in thinking that they already knew each other. It was at a friend’s house; a small party; music and drink, a lot of talk - some of it aggressive, hardly any food, bedrooms occupied, people sprawling on the stairs, all the usual things that young people get up to.

So Frank met Jane and it was the start of the most intense pairing I’ve ever seen. I won’t go into the harm they caused each other - the sheer destructive intensity of their feelings - and the way it overspilled into the lives of others. My interest is in the cause of it. Individually, they were both fairly normal - where did all that wildness originate?

When two people meet - in the context of a possible relationship - there is the charm of natural restraint - of ‘getting to know’ - of exploration - of testing humour - of appraising attractiveness - of imagining how the other might be in day-to-day situations - of checking out interests and so on, and so on.

I don’t think Frank and Jane had any of that - to them it had no relevance. There wasn’t any of the natural barriers - inhibition or shyness or plain good manners, whatever you call it, they didn’t have it. There was no slow burn - no development. They instantly recognised and understood the other person with a lethal insight, as if coming face to face with their own selves; as if each enabled the other to bring out the force of ferocious banked-down energy and cravings.

I saw them and I didn’t know what to think.

As Told To Me ... #33

‘My trouble is that I cannot flirt. You probably think that is trivial, but to me, it’s been a problem all my life - much more when I was younger but sometimes even now, I have the old difficulties and I feel the same as I did when I was seventeen. You see I cannot flirt; I cannot make small-talk with the opposite sex. I cannot do what most males can do and that inability to banter has hung like a great weight - socially I was a disaster- it stopped me enjoying myself - I was tongue-tied and clumsy - I couldn’t say the right things - I couldn’t be ‘engaging’.

‘ My pals found it natural and easy to talk to girls and I envied them. I was gauche and awkward. I have never been able to insinuate or imply ‘double meanings’ or talk the way that seemed to impress. Instead I was literal and heavy and I frightened them - they didn’t want my seriousness. The fact that my pals were insincere didn’t matter - they liked that type of focus; that tingle of audacity and that’s something I cannot manage.’

[newsnigeria]

Check out New Post published on Ọmọ Oòduà

New Post has been published on http://ooduarere.com/news-from-nigeria/world-news/kidnapping-tool-of-imperial/

Kidnapping as a tool of imperial statecraft?

[This column was written for the Unz Review]

There is nothing new about empires taking hostages and using them to put pressure on whatever rebel group needs to reminded “who is boss”. The recent arrest in Italy of Alexander Korshunov, the director for business development at Russia’s United Engine Corporation (UEC), is really nothing new but just the latest in a long string of kidnappings. And, as I already mentioned in distant 2017, that kind of thuggery is not a sign of strength but, in fact, a sign of weakness. Remember Michael Ledeen’s immortal words about how “”Every ten years or so, the United States needs to pick up some small crappy little country and throw it against the wall, just to show the world we mean business“? Well, you could say that this latest spat of kidnappings is indicative of the same mindset and goal, just on a much smaller, individual, scale. And, finally, it ain’t just Russia, we all know about the kidnapping of Huawei’s CFO Meng Wanzhou by the Canadian authorities.

By the way, you might wonder how can I speak of “kidnapping” when, in reality, these were legal arrests made by the legitimate authorities of the countries in which these arrests were made? Simple! As I mentioned last week, words matter and to speak of an “arrest” in this case wrongly suggest that 1) some crime was committed (when in reality there is ZERO evidence of that, hence the talk of “conspiracy” to do something illegal) 2) that this crime was investigated and that the authorities have gathered enough evidence to justify an arrest and 3) that the accused will have a fair trial. None of that applies to the cases of Viktor Bout, Konstantin Iaroshenko, Marina Butina or, for that matter, Meng Wanzhou or Wang Weijing. The truth is that these so-called “arrests” are simple kidnappings, the goal is hostage taking with the goal to either 1) try to force Russia (and China) to yield to US demands or 2) try to “get back” at Russia (and China) following some humiliating climb down by the US Administration (this was also the real reason behind the uncivilized seizure of Russian diplomatic buildings in the USA).

This is not unlike what the Gestapo and the SS liked to do during WWII and their kidnapping of hostages was also called “arrest” by the then state propaganda machine. By the way, the Bolsheviks also did a lot of that during the civil war, but on a much larger scale. In reality, both in the case of the Nazi authorities and in the case of the imperial USA, as soon as a person is arrested he/she is subjected to solitary confinement and other forms of psychological torture (Manning or Assange anybody?!) in order to either make them break or to at least show Russia and China that the US, being the World Hegemon gets to seize anybody worldwide, be it by a CIA kidnapping team or by using local colonial law enforcement authorities (aka local police forces).

US politicians love to “send messages” and this metaphor is used on a daily basis by US officials in all sorts of circumstances. Here the message is simple: we can do whatever the hell we want, and there ain’t nothing you can do about it!

But is that last statement really true?

Well, in order to reply to this we should look at the basic options available to Russia (this also applies to China, but here I want to focus on the Russian side of the issue). I guess the basic list of options is pretty straightforward:

Use official and confidential diplomatic channels to protest and demand a release

Publicly protest and denounce these kidnappings as completely illegal (and immoral to boot!)

Retaliate by using legal means (sanctions, cancellation of agreements, etc.)

Retaliate by using extra-legal means (counter-kidnappings, not unlike what China allegedly decided to do in the case of Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor)

Frankly, in the case of the USA, options one and two are useless: the AngloZionist leaders have long given up any hope of not being hated and despised by 99% of mankind and they have long dropped any pretense of legality, nevermind morality: they don’t give a damn what anybody thinks. Their main concern is to conceal their immense weakness, but they fail to do so time and time again. Truly, when wannabe “empires” can’t even bring an extremely weakened country such as Venezuela to heel, there ain’t much they can do to boot their credibility. If anything, this thuggery is nothing more than the evidence of a mind-blowing weakness of the Empire.

But that weakness in no way implies that Russia and China have good options. Sadly, they don’t.

Russia can engage in various types of sanctions, ranging from the petty bureaucratic harassment of US representations, diplomats, businessmen and the like to economic and political retaliations. But let’s not kid ourselves, there is very little Russia can do to seriously hurt the USA with such retaliations. Many would advocate retaliation in kind, but that poses a double problem for the Kremlin:

Once a country has gone down the road of illegal brute force, there is no way back. The examples of the US, Israel or, for that matter, the Ukraine show that once primitive thuggery becomes part of your political arsenal you will forever remain a thug and everybody will see this (whether everybody will have the courage to openly state this is a different issue altogether).

The reality is that double and triple standards have long become the essential key feature of all western ideological systems, from the Papacy to modern capitalism. The Kremlin fully understands that in the AngloZionist Empire “some are more equal than others” and that that which is “allowed” to the World Hegemon is categorically forbidden to everybody else. Thus if Russia retaliates in kind, there will be an explosion of hysterical protests not only by the western legacy corporate and state ziomedia, but also from the 5th columnist in the Russian “liberal” press.

And yes, unlike the USA, Russia does have a vibrant, diverse and pluralistic media and each time when Putin agrees to a press conference (especially one several hours long) he knows that he will be asked the tough, unpleasant, questions. But since he, unlike most western leaders, can intelligently answer them he does not fear them. As for Dmitrii Peskov and Maria Zakharova, they have heard it all a gazillion during the past years, including often the most ridiculously biased, mis-informed and outright ridiculous “questions” (accusations, really) from the western presstitute corps in Russia.

So yes, Russia could, in theory, retaliate by arresting US citizens in Russia (or by staging Cold War type provocations) or by kidnapping them abroad (Russia does have special forces trained for this kind of operation). But this is most unlikely to yield any meaningful results and it would create a PR nightmare for the Kremlin.

The truth is that in most of these cases we always come down to the fundamental dichotomy: on one hand we have a rogue state gone bonkers with imperial hubris, arrogance and crass ignorance (say, the USA and/or Israel) while on the other we have states which try to uphold a civilized international order (Russia, China, Iran, etc.). This is by logical necessity a lop-sided struggle in which the thugs will almost always have the advantage.

[Sidebar: here I want to address a logical fallacy which I regularly hear in the West: when one political system proves stronger, or more capable of survival, than another one, this supposedly proves that the stronger state is also somehow “superior”. This is the argument used by those who claim that the Soviet Union “lost the Cold War” and that “Capitalism has proven much more sustainable/efficient than Communism”. This is utter nonsense for at least two reasons: first, the USSR did not “lose” the Cold War – the CPSU and the Soviet ruling Nomenklatura decided to break-up the USSR (against the will of the people!) and, second, the fact is that the Soviet Union was squandering its wealth all over the planet while the USA was robbing the entire planet blind. How can we compare the two? Finally, allow me this metaphor to make my point: if we would lock up a human being and a hyena in a small empty cell to see who will survive we can be pretty darn sure that the hyena will immediately and very “effectively” kill the human and eat him. Does that “victory” somehow prove the hyena’s “superiority”? Of course not! For one thing, capitalism implies infinite growth in a finite environment, which is exactly what a malignant tumor does for a living and which is self-evidently non-sustainable. So are we going to compare one political system – Communism – which does not rely on growth and which is therefore sustainable, and which spread its wealth all over the planet with one based on (international) “highway robbery” (don’t take my word for it, take it from Paul Craig Roberts himself who unambiguously stated recently that “American Capitalism is Based on Plunder”). Yes, the Soviet system was fundamentally rotten, profoundly dysfunctional and ineffective (only imbeciles or ignoramuses would deny that!), but it was not in any way “defeated” by the West nor is Capitalism any “better” or “superior” (whatever you want that to mean) than Communism (more on this here if you are interested).]

For all these reasons, there is really nothing much Russia (or China) can do about this situation besides publishing an official warning to the Russian people saying that if they travel abroad they should realize that “US intelligence agencies continue their current hunt for Russians around the world”. They also made public the list of countries which have extradition treaties with the USA: Australia, Austria, Albania, Antigua and Barbuda, Argentina, Bahamas, Barbados, Belize, Belgium, Bulgaria, Bolivia, Brazil, United Kingdom, Hungary, Canada, Colombia, Congo, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Denmark, Dominican Republic, Egypt, Dominica, Greece, Guyana, Haiti, Guatemala, Germany, Honduras, Greece, Israel, India, Jordan, Iraq, Ireland, Iceland, Italy, Kenya, Latvia, Lesotho, Liberia, Lithuania, Venezuela, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Malawi, Malaysia, Malta, Mauritius, Marshall Islands, Mexico, Micronesia, Monaco, Myanmar, Nauru, Nigeria, Netherlands, Nicaragua, new Zealand, Norway, Pakistan, Palau, Panama, Papua New Guinea, Paraguay, Peru, Poland, Portugal, Romania, El Salvador, San Marino, Swaziland, Seychelles, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Saint Lucia, Singapore, Slovakia, Slovenia, Solomon Islands, Suriname, Sierra Leone, Thailand, Tanzania, Tonga, Trinidad and Tobago, Tuvalu, Turkey, Uruguay, Philippines, Finland, France, Czech Republic, Chile, Switzerland, Sweden, Sri Lanka, Ecuador, Estonia, South Africa, South Korea, Jamaica and Japan.

The MoFA concluded by warning that “The Russian foreign Ministry strongly urges all Russian citizens planning trips abroad to carefully weigh all the risks, especially if there is reason to assume the possibility of claims against them by American law enforcement agencies”.

Some caveat emptor before buying your airline ticket, right?!

Conclusion: it will get a lot worse before it gets better

First, we need to always remember that kidnappings are just the latest manifestation of an overall pattern of thuggery by the USA. The attitude is pervasive, and US citizens are not free of this climate of thuggery. Another good example are the outright bribes offered to the ships captains of Iran, to sail their crude carriers to somewhere were the US can literally pirate the carrier. Remember the amazing confession by Pompeo himself: “We lied, we cheated, we stole…. it reminds you of the glory of the American experiment”?

You don’t?

Then here is a quick refresher:

It can almost be rewritten and expanded like this: We lie, we cheat, we steal, we kidnap, we bribe, we extort, we pirate, then we threaten, and then we tell everyone how exceptionally morally superior we are.

Yet a certain limit has been crossed. It is as if their own belief in their own moral superiority has inverted to the extent that their own moral superiority is so big, and so certain, that any small actions of thuggery is allowed to them. This will not change any time soon and even the most innocent traveler must have awareness of this. This is why the Chinese are now openly wondering if sending Chinese students to the USA is such a good idea after all.

So the first thing we have to accept is that this pattern of thuggery will not stop, if anything – it will expand.

Second, we have to also realize that there are no good options for the Russians or the Chinese. In fact, this is normal: civilized actors often find themselves “out-gunned”, so to speak, by thugs, sociopaths and criminals. Over time, however, thuggery is always self-defeating because it is inevitably linked to a delusion of impunity. As for civilized states, while it is true that they are at a fundamental disadvantage when faced by uncivilized thugs but, again, over time they eventually prevail if only because everybody always ends up fed up and disgusted with the thugs. Finally, while thuggery can seem attractive to people with sociopathic inclinations, most human beings need a higher ideal than just unbridled consumption to inspire them. Communism had (and I would argue, still has) this ability. Capitalism does not.

For the foreseeable future, however, we can only expect more of the same. Thanks to the ceaseless efforts of Obama and Trump the Empire is collapsing even faster than it normally would and we can expect that the current sequence of humiliating defeats for the USA (and, of course, Israel which has its own humiliating wounds to lick!) will continue and that the USA (and, of course, Israel!) will have to find more small targets (be it kidnapped Russian nationals or empty buildings in Syria) to kidnap or destroy and feel powerful again.

This will be revolting, disgusting and simply plain stupid.

But there is nothing Russia (or China) can do to stop it, at least not for the foreseeable future.

The Saker