#do I spy a porque no los dos

[hausofmamadas]

| To live and leave fast |

��

Pairing: Andrea Nuñez x Horacio Carrillo

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober - Day 16 (+ a bit of Day 15 tbh)

Prompt: Day of Surprises (+ a smidge of Day of Absolute Filth) - create a fanwork that focuses on dreams (+ a smidge of character's moral corruption)

Word count: ≈ 2.3K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, Real Big Sad, angst with some smoochin'

What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic. okay sjsjs the way I told myself that I was gonna stop at 800 words and it becamekfjs this. So again, imsorryforeverything but uhh yea, I barely proofread this so the Spanish is prolly rough and so is everything else but hey! We can just blame it on it’s all a dream, right ….? Right??? Anyway, enjoy some shockingly non-antagonistic and sometimes tender back-and-forth btwn these two and probably the most ooc Carrillo to ever exist bc I’ve never written for him before. Idk why I’m so obsessed with this crackship but I am and it is what it is

⁂

Her voice rang out, “So, tell me. How long do you really think you can go on like this?” almost in time with the flashing red light that cut through the half-broken blinds, filling the dank, dingy room.

Carrillo tried sitting forward from where he must’ve fallen asleep slumped against something, presumably the wall of someone’s living room. No, not someone’s living room. No one’s living room. Because the place was a mess, covered in old takeout wrappers from Tijuana’s finest dining establishments, broken glass, cobwebs, and dust that would’ve been more befitting of an ancient tomb than this place. The smell of vodka or maybe rubbing alcohol burned his nose but he couldn’t pinpoint where it might’ve been coming from.

Was he even still in Tijuana? Huh. Well, that would have to wait till later. Anyway, he didn’t need to know what city he was in to know he was in an abandoned safe house. Which narco faction it belonged to didn’t make a difference. This one had to have been empty for at least a month, probably more, judging by the disarray. That and the insect activity. From Escobar to El Señor de los Cielos, the pace of the narco-lifestyle only lent itself to living and leaving fast, and whatever got left behind was usually beside the point.

Okay, but how’d he get here.

Maybe if he asked her, she’d stop looking right through him from where she stood across the room, arms crossed, leaning back against a mostly empty bookshelf that housed a few old books, some technical manual for car engines, and what looked like some old issues of Penthouse or some other stag magazine. High brow reading. He wondered if sicarios knew how much of a cliche they all were. Just once he’d like to meet one who enjoyed basketweaving, or birdwatching, or who was sentimental about their girlfriend. Anything that broke type. Then again, when it came to breaking type, he wasn’t in the best position to judge.

“Ay, por favooor, cabrón.” Startled, he jerked forward at the sound of her voice. “Remember when I told you that you were straight out of Central Casting for a war movie?” Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she scoffed, “Who are you to talk about breaking type, hombre?”

What the hell. How’d she– He didn’t– Or, had he— Was he talking out loud this whole time?

He sat up straighter and a pain lit up his right side, going from dull to blinding. Hands already at the damp spot on his shirt, trying not to scream, he could tell the wound there was bleeding more now from the pressure of sitting up. Wait no, that was good. Actually, he could use that. Inhaling with the strength of his whole body, he pressed his fingers down, jamming them into the wound, and let the pain accumulate in his chest and ribcage, then exhaled, hoping his breath would send the sensation up further to his face, his forehead, activate the muscles there to share the load of his heavy eyelids.

He didn’t think he was talking out loud, but then, he must’ve been since she’d answered. That meant something, he knew. He couldn’t focus though. Why couldn’t he focus? What’d it mean? Oh right, blood loss. It was worse than he realized. But why wasn’t she helping him? No matter how furious she was with him, that wouldn’t have been like her, standing there while he bled out.

“Ay pinshe Carrillo, no seas mamón. I was helping but you fought me the minute I started trying to clean the thing. And then,” brows knit in his favorite it-is-what-it-is position, she pointed to a puddle by his feet, “you knocked the bottle out of my hands,” then shrugged, looking around the room absently. “And vodka was the only thing I could find in this place that even comes close to sanitary. So, I had to wait for you calm down or pass out before I could do anything.”

He had no memory of that. In fact, he had no memory of anything before that dingy little room. Which was weird. He’d been hit in the head enough times that lapses in memory weren’t an altogether foreign experience, but usually he could remember something from before. Sometimes it might be hours before whatever disaster, but he at least remembered. Now, it was just blank. It occurred to him that he might be–

“–and you might be in shock,” she finished aloud.

Jesus, was he saying everything he was thinking? He watched her and waited, seeing if she’d answer more questions in his head.

That light outside kept flashing, bathing the room in a deep shade of red that danced off the broken glass, creating macabre shadows that skittered up the walls, across the floor, the ceiling. Through the blinds too, it cast alternating stripes of red and black on her face. It would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t so sinister-looking. Well no, it made her more stunning, in a haunting, alien way, even though she looked how she usually did: hair messily pulled back, a few strands hanging in her face, wearing a tank-top and that button-up he’d found at the Salvation Army in San Ysidro. He couldn’t focus. That’s right, he’d gone to drop off some old dining chairs he had no use for, caught it out of the corner of his eye hanging with the rest of the men’s button-ups. And instantly thought of her. Why couldn’t he focus. The pain finally reached his eyes.

Again, she answered his thoughts. “Well, as much as I wanted to fight you for fighting me,” she looked down, pinching the collar of the shirt and wiggling it back and forth like a dollar bill, “I didn’t get far enough in the process of dressing your wound to ruin it. And it is one of my favorites. I have to give it to you, tigre. Your attention to detail is the stuff of legend, and they were not wrong.”

At that, he smiled tiredly. She rocked forward, kicking off the bookshelf, and strode over to him, bits of glass crunching under the gummy, rubber souls of her boots. Doc Martens. So practical. They really were, the two of them, the same sometimes.

“Andrea,” her name came out in a whisper and a wince as he clutched at his side. He looked down in a daze that no matter how many times he blinked, how wide he forced his eyes open, he couldn’t shake. “How’d th– what happened? What are you doing here? How’d you– ,” he grunted, shifting his weight to his good side, “mm– get here?”

“Te he seguido, obvio.”

What? She follo– he hadn’t even briefed anyone on the raid at Agua Caliente until right before. Trujillo would never. Walt? No, after the debacle in Juarez, he was too wrapped up needing this win to jeopardize it by talking to a reporter. Even one as dogged and persistent as Andrea. And yes, she was resourceful. But resourceful, not psychic.

It felt like a lifetime of sitting there trying put it all together and he didn’t remember when she’d started making her way towards him, but she was already kneeling next to him now, slowly removing his hands from his side. Her eyes and forehead pinched in such a way that would’ve amplified his concern if he weren’t so out of it.

Her fingers felt cold around his neck. “Árre, we need to get this off,” she said, unbuttoning the collar of his uniform.

He was alarmed when his hands brushed hers and he saw they were covered in some dark substance. Oh, blood. Strange, it looked pitch black in this light. Andrea continued working her way down, pulling each button gingerly, so as not to hurt him more. The closer she got to his stomach, the more her hands began to resemble his, covered in black.

“Dale, mija. ¿Me vas a explicar lo que haces aquí ya o qué?”

He wanted to rub his thumb across her lip as it curled up in a smug smile. “Why? Should I not be here? You want me to leave? Sure,” she craned her neck around, and called out into the empty room, “I’ll just be on my way then and let someone in this massive crowd of eager, good samaritans help you.”

He chuckled thinly. When she faced back to him, she began untucking his shirt as delicately as possible. It hurt like a sonofabitch but it was going to hurt no matter what they did, so he softened the corners of his eyes, trying not to make her feel bad.

She continued. “The better question I think is, what are you doing here?”

Once he was free from his dress shirt, she grabbed both sides of the hole in the white shirt underneath and tore it wider to get a better look at the wound. Blood leaked out in streams down his stomach to his waist. It appeared to be a large gash from some kind of shrapnel. Much too jagged for a knife. The harsh sound of air through her teeth was a good indicator of what kind of shape he was in.

Alright so, shrapnel. But he couldn’t remember an explosion and there was no evidence of one having happened there in the room. What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic.

He’d been doing a passable job not reacting too viscerally with his face, but when she started rifling through his pockets on either side, he grimaced, growling, “Ay, Andrea! Qué coño estás haciendo, porfavor.”

Paying him no mind, she held out her hand like a surgeon waiting for a scalpel. “Knife.”

He jutted his chin toward his feet. Spotting the shiny silver clip, she grabbed the knife from his boot, flicked it out, and made an incision in the hem of his uniform shirt. Catching the free section in her teeth, she tore down the length of the initial incision, and started packing the vodka-soaked gauze that she’d managed to hold onto after his freakout onto the wound and tying it with the strips of cloth cut from the shirt. When she pulled hard, securing the final knot, he nearly keeled over.

“Aycarajoperdónperdónperdóname,” she said, catching him by the shoulders.

She stayed there, acting as his scaffolding until the pain subsided. He lifted his chin to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. Just in her wanting to help him, the assurance of her fingertips against his shoulders, he felt her helping him. He couldn’t remember a time he was so grateful for another human being. Grateful in the way only she could make him feel. 

Speaking half to her and half to the ground, he tried putting the pieces together, “I don’t know what I’m doing here. For some reason–“ but lost the words when he’d barely gotten started.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s– I have this strange– I have a feeling we’ve always been here. And will … always be here.”

Andrea nodded, eyes closed, like she knew exactly what he was talking about. It might feel like a trap if they didn’t have each other. She was always more than enough.

After a beat of silence, she pulled back and looked at him sadly, like she knew something he didn’t. Which was odd given what she asked next. “Horacio, por favor, necesito saberlo. Why? Why did you do it?”

Why’d he do it? Why’d he do, what?

“I know it’s in there, I know you remember. You have to, or you’ll never make it out of here.”

He shook his head, squinting his eyes, confused and cranky like a kid prematurely woken up from a nap. “Make it out? I’m not gonna make it out. Not unless you help me. Look at–“ he motioned to his side, “Ni siquiera puedo andar, mija.”

“Yes, you can,” she insisted calmly, her eyes full of an inexplicable mix of hope and resignation.

What did she know that he didn’t?

“I don’t know anything you don’t know. You just don’t want to know it. But you have to try, tigre. Eso es la única manera de vengarte a él. No more cutting corners. No more deals with the devil. Eres mejor que eso, ya lo sabes.”

The devil. The devil. The flashing red light. Deals. Deals with the devil.

Ah. Calderoni. That. That fucking deal.

His own C.I.s in exchange for Calderoni’s intel on Agua Caliente, el Hipódromo, Carlos Hank Gonzalez. A bigger fish than the Arellanos. Even though he knew exactly what the family would do to the informants. They’d have to stop building bridges in Mexico to hang people from. He showed up in Tijuana to clean up Rebollo’s mess and gone ahead and made his own.

Still, she was never part of the deal. But he could guess how that happened. In some boardroom meeting he conveniently wasn’t present for, somehow “journalist” and “informant” got conflated. They were wise not to include him. Not only would he not have agreed, he would’ve ensured not a single one of them made it out of there on two feet and breathing.

So, is this what it’s like watching the boulder come crashing down the mountain for the hundredth? Thousandth? Millionth time?

Carrillo’s face fell with understanding. “But I can’t lose you.”

“Sí, pero lo tienes que hacer. You have work to do. Because I love you. And you love me. And you owe me. And,” she rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek, and then flashed a dangerous smile, “I want you to burn the whole motherfucking thing to the ground.”

Then, cradling the back of his neck with both hands, she leaned in, lips christening him on the forehead, each of his eyelids, the tip of his nose, coming to a close at his own. There was a finality to the kiss that made him dig in deeper as if he could hold her here without lifting a finger, an urgency she returned so fiercely, when they broke away both their lips were swollen and flushed. Not without passion, but it wasn’t carnal so much as the pure desperation of goodbye.

“Going after those pinshe shingamadres is the least you can do.” He hadn’t even registered tears at his eyes until she brushed one with her thumb that had escaped down onto his cheekbone and mused, “After all, you are the reason I’m dead.”

∴

Slapped with a blast of air, his whole body jolted back to life, as he came to in a cold sweat, ceiling fan taunting him from above while he gasped for air and shivered against the damp sheets. He was so used to waking up violently like this, it didn’t even scare him anymore. Confused him a little, maybe. But reassurance was quick to follow and his breathing slowed as he relaxed, because ah, yes, he knew how to deal with the nightmares now.

Like clockwork, he reached for his life preserver, turning and throwing his arm over to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel the warmth of her back, her shoulders, hear her steady breathing next to him. But his hand sailed straight through empty air and landed on the cold, vacant spot of the mattress instead.

He almost doubled over. Pain unlike anything.

Worse than when Trujillo first delivered the news to him in his office. Much worse. The perpetual renewal of shock that this was real and the place in that dingy room in his head was not, only sharpened the blow each time. But he deserved to be wounded and wounded like this over and over again. After all, he was responsible, she was right about that.

She wasn’t here to help him with the nightmares anymore. Now, she only lived in his.

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @narcolini

[shostakobitchh]

¿Y si Lily hubiera sobrevivido con Ariel y fuera James quien muriera? ¿Cómo habría reaccionado Snape?

Me imagino que estaría feliz de que Lily esté viva con su bebé y más aún sabiendo que Potter murió. Lily dejaría el mundo mágico para cuidar a Ariel, lo más probable es que le dijera que James es solo su padrastro y no su verdadero padre, lo que llevaría a que el pequeño aire se enterara de quién es su papá.

Todo sucede igual que en su historia. con la diferencia de que Lily le dijo a Severus en el primer año de Ariel a través de una carta para que luego él termine llevándose bien con Ariel y los tres terminen viviendo en su casa en familia hasta el regreso de voldemor listos para enfrentarlos no sé , me gustaria ver un one-shot de eso, Severus merece pasar mas tiempo con su hija y el amor de toda su vida, viva el snily >:3

What if Lily had survived with Ariel and it was James who died? How would Snape have reacted? I imagine he would be happy that Lily is alive with her baby and even more so knowing that Potter died. Lily would leave the magical world to take care of Ariel, most likely she would tell her that James is just her stepfather and not her real father, which would lead the little air to find out who is her father. she. Everything happens the same as in his story. with the difference that Lily told Severus in Ariel's first year through a letter so that later he ends up getting along with Ariel and the three of them end up living in their family home until Voldemor's return ready to face them I don't know , I would like to see a one-shot of that, Severus deserves to spend more time with his daughter and the love of his whole life, long live the snily >:3

I translated the ask above because I don't speak Spanish, but will answer in English and include a Spanish answer translation under the cut!

(Traduje la pregunta anterior porque no hablo español, ¡pero responderé en inglés e incluiré una traducción de la respuesta en español debajo del corte!)

I don't think Snape would've inherently been "happy" about James dying but I think he would've been more indifferent and would've felt a little bit guilty once he found out Ariel was his. He probably would try and deny it and say it was something else but I think James stepping up to the plate and losing his life over Snape's kid would've fucked with Snape's head just a little bit.

I think you're right in saying that Lily would leave for a bit, but when she came back she would've told Snape everything and given him the memories to see. I don't think she would've put everything in a letter for him to read - the only reason there was a letter in the story is because Lily was preparing for every possibility once Voldemort started hunting her and the baby, and she certainly wouldn't do it right before Ariel leaves her school and put her through that. I don't think that would be fair to Ariel at all. Lily would 100% make sure Snape was suitable and willing to be a father before letting him anywhere near her. And Lily would ONLY tell Snape if she knew that he was a spy for the Order, which, after James' death, she would since Snape doesn't go to Azkaban when Voldemort disappears. So that puts Snape's involvement in Ariel's life around the 2-4 year mark.

There would be a lot of guilt of Lily's part involving James and I can see that creating a lot of problems between Snape/Lily and Sirius. Remus would be able to stomach it but Sirius would not do well with all of this happening and Snape and Lily eventually getting together.

Totally agree with Snape, Lily, and Ariel living as a family unit! We love supportive, badass parents.

The story would still progress similarly... although maybe not the smoke monster, since that was Blood Wards-related.

I'll file this idea away for a rainy day, though! I'd love to write them just trying to be a normal family... so wholesome. 🥹

No creo que Snape hubiera estado intrínsecamente "feliz" por la muerte de James, pero creo que habría sido más indiferente y se habría sentido un poco culpable una vez que descubrió que Ariel era suya. Probablemente intentaría negarlo y decir que era otra cosa, pero creo que James dando un paso al frente y perdiendo la vida por el hijo de Snape habría jodido un poco la cabeza de Snape.

Creo que tienes razón al decir que Lily se iría por un tiempo, pero cuando volviera le habría contado todo a Snape y le habría dado los recuerdos para ver. No creo que hubiera puesto todo en una carta para que él la leyera; la única razón por la que había una carta en la historia es porque Lily se estaba preparando para todas las posibilidades una vez que Voldemort comenzara a cazarla a ella y al bebé, y ciertamente lo haría. No lo hagas justo antes de que Ariel deje la escuela y la haga pasar por eso. No creo que eso sea justo para Ariel en absoluto. Lily se aseguraría al 100% de que Snape fuera adecuado y estuviera dispuesto a ser padre antes de dejarlo acercarse a ella. Y Lily SOLAMENTE le diría a Snape si supiera que él es un espía de la Orden, lo cual, después de la muerte de James, lo haría ya que Snape no va a Azkaban cuando Voldemort desaparece. Entonces eso pone la participación de Snape en la vida de Ariel alrededor de 2-4 años.

Habría mucha culpa del papel de Lily que involucra a James y puedo ver que eso crea muchos problemas entre Snape/Lily y Sirius. Remus sería capaz de digerirlo, pero a Sirius no le iría bien que todo esto sucediera y que Snape y Lily finalmente se reunieran.

¡Totalmente de acuerdo con Snape, Lily y Ariel viviendo como una unidad familiar! Nos encantan los padres solidarios y rudos. La historia seguiría progresando de manera similar… aunque tal vez no el monstruo de humo, ya que estaba relacionado con Blood Wards.

¡Sin embargo, guardaré esta idea para un día lluvioso! Me encantaría escribirlos tratando de ser una familia normal… tan saludable. 🥹

[capribornio]

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#understandable op however i will continue to be interested into whatever's things the poeple i follow are posting even if if i don't like it

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You know, I reblogged a thing earlier about how most readers at publication wouldn’t assume Lucy was being bitten by Dracula, since most of the popular tropes at the time would point to Victorian Dying Woman Disease. Besides, it wasn’t established how vampires feed.  

However, I... don’t completely agree? Just from the book, we Know Dracula was gorged with blood, specifically, and Lucy’s wounds had little points of blood. And Lucy is getting worse at the same time she’s getting regularly visited by a bat, right after getting attacked by Obviously Dracula. I mean, YMMV, but I think Stoker’s making it clear what’s happening with Lucy.

What I think we’re missing by not knowing the tropes, however, is that I believe the readers at the time would be Aware that is Dracula, but they would instantly realize the *characters* are going to blame it on Victorian Dying Woman Disease.

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I am currently absolutely losing it listen.

I took out from the library the Spanish translation of Dracula, because what better thing to do after reading Dracula than reread it in my language. I flipped to today's note, because curious. And then I got to the Holmward line, and I died.

The OG: "[...] which we could all look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both happily married."

The more natural (in Stoker's heterosexual meaning) translation: "...que ahora podemos rememorar sin desesperación, porque tanto Godalming como Seward están felizmente casados." (Empathizes each one, separately, are happily married.)

The absolute Gigachad of a translation I read: "...que ahora podemos rememorar sin desesperación, porque Godalming y Seward se han casado, y son felices." (Literally just. Art and Seward got married and are happy. There is literally no way to read this heterosexually unless you have the world's thickest Straight glasses.)

Anyway I hope translator Francisco Torres Oliver has all the bitches he wants of any gender he likes them.

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[mydadjokes]

A giant list of puns

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

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I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

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I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.

I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.

My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.

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Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.

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I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.

Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.

Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"

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Sausage puns are the wurst.

What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.

Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.

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Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.

What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.

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Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.

What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.

What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.

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What do you call a line of rabbits marching backwards? A receding hairline.

Why don’t vampires go to barbecues? They don’t like steak.

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The future,the present and the past walked into a bar.Things got a little tense.

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I just found out I'm colorblind. The diagnosis came completely out of the purple.

I'd tell you a chemistry joke but I know I wouldn't get a reaction.

Have you ever tried to eat a clock? It's very time consuming.

I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.

Read enough of our funny puns, and you'll be punstoppable.

Yesterday a clown held the door for me. It was a nice jester.

I used to go fishing with Skrillex but he kept dropping the bass.

The wedding was so emotional even the cake was in tiers.

What does a house wear? A dress.

Why can't bicycles stand up on their own? Since they are 2 tired.

I owe a lot to the sidewalks. They’ve been keeping me off the streets for years.

Imagine if alarm clocks hit you back in the morning.It would be truly alarming.

Why is a skeleton a bad liar? You can see right through it.

What do you receive when you ask a lemon for help? Lemonaid.

A man sued an airline company after it lost his luggage. Sadly, he lost his case.

What does a dog say when he sits down on a piece of sandpaper? Ruff!

What do you call crystal clear urine? 1080pee.

At my boxing club there is only one punch bag. I hate waiting for the punch line!

An untalented gymast walks into a bar.

Einstein developed a theory about space, and it was about time too.

I was accused of being a plagiarist, their word not mine.

My friends say they don’t like skeleton puns. I should put more backbone into them.

Let me FILL you in on my trip to the dentist.

Why does the singer of Cheap Thrills not want us to Sia?

Traveling on a flying carpet is a rugged experience.

Cartoonist found dead in home. Details are sketchy.

The old woman who lived in a shoe wasn’t the sole owner,there were strings attached.

Did you hear about the crime in the parking garage? It was wrong on so many levels.

My new diet consists of aircraft, its a bit plane.

Have you ever tried to milk a cow which has been cut in half? Udder madness.

Why are there fences on graveyards? Because people are dying to get in.

Why do trees have so many friends? They branch out.

Models of dragons are not to scale.

Never discuss infinity with a mathematician, they can go on about it forever.

Why don’t some couples go to the gym? Because some relationships don’t work out.

Don’t trust people that do acupuncture, they’re back stabbers.

A persistent banker wouldn’t stop hitting on me so I asked him to leave me a loan.

I ordered a book of puns last week, but i didn't get it.

People say i look better without glasses but i just can't see it.

Don’t judge a meal by the look of the first course. It’s very souperficial.

I heard Donald Trump is going to ban shredded cheese, and make America grate again.

I relish the fact that you’ve mustard the strength to ketchup to me.

What do you call a young musician? A minor.

Police were called to a daycare yesterday, where a 2-year-old was resisting a rest.

If artists wear sketchers do linguists wear converse?

I changed my iPod name to Titanic. It’s syncing now.

Jill broke her finger today, but on the other hand she was completely fine.

I smeared some ketchup all over my eyes once. It was a bad idea in Heinz- sight.

I flipped a coin over an issue the other day, it was quite the toss-up.

I got hit in the head with a can of soda? Luckily it was a soft drink.

I heard that the post office was a male dominated industry.

Why isn’t suntanning an Olympic sport? Because the best you can ever get is bronze.

What do you mean June is over? Julying.

Why is Kylo Ren so angry? Beause he’s always Ben Solo.

These reversing cameras are great. Since I got one I haven’t looked back.

The candle quit his job because he felt burned out.

Our maintenance guy lost his legs on the job, now he’s just a handyman.

Going to bed with music on gave him sound sleep.

A magic tractor drove down the road and turned into a field!

I met some aliens from outer space. They were pretty down to earth.

The plane flight brought my acrophobia to new heights.

My phone has to wear glasses ever since it lost its contacts.

I, for one, like Roman numerals.

How do mountains see? They peak.

The show was called Spongebob Squarepants but everyone knows the star was Patrick.

This is not alcohol, water you thinking?!

Novice pirates make terrible singers because they can’t hit the high seas.

I told my friend she drew her eyebrows too high. She seemed surprised.

The earth's rotation really makes my day.

If I buy a bigger bed will I have more or less bedroom?

Two peanuts were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-salted.

Two ropes were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-frayed.

What kind of shoes do ninjas wear? Sneakers.

I got a master’s degree in being ignored; no one seems to care.

After eating the ship, the sea monster said, I can’t believe I ate the hull thing.

Smaller babies may be delivered by stork but the heavier ones need a crane.

A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.

I had a pun about insanity but then I lost it.

He couldn’t work out how to fix the washing machine so he threw in the towel.

Why does the man want to buy nine rackets? Cause tennis too many.

Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny.

If I got paid in lots of Pennes I would make loads of pasta.

I thought I saw a spider on my laptop, but my friend said it was just a bug.

A doctor broke his leg while auditioning for a play.Luckily he still made the cast.

The tale of the haunted refrigerator was chilling.

Why are frogs so happy? They eat whatever bugs them.

If you wear cowboy clothes are you ranch dressing?

I was addicted to the hokey pokey but I turned myself around.

Simba, you're falling behind. I must ask you to Mufasa.

I bought a wooden whistle but it wooden whistle.

The bomb didn't want to go off. So it refused.

The sore mummy needed a Cairo-practor

I feel sorry for shopping carts. They’re always getting pushed around.

The display of still-life art was not at all moving!

On Halloween October is nearly Octover.

Pig puns are so boaring.

Why couldn’t the dead car drive into the cluttered garage? Lack of vroom.

What do you call Samsung's security guards? Guardians of the Galaxy.

What does Superman have in his drink? Just ice.

How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

The safe was invented by a cop and a robber. It was quite a combination.

What do you do when balloons are hurt? You helium.

One hat says to the other, "You stay here, I’ll go on a head."

How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? Ten tickles.

When does a farmer dance? When he drops the beet.

When the scientist wanted to clone a deer, he bought a doe it yourself kit.

If people ask how many puns I made in Germany I reply, "nein"

Did you hear about the invention of the white board? It was remarkable.

If Donald Trump becomes president, America is going toupee.

Can February March? No, but April May.

I hate Russian Dolls, they are so full of themselves.

What do you do to an open wardrobe? You closet.

The magazine about ceiling fans went out of business due to low circulation.

So what if I don’t know what apocalypse means? It’s not the end of the world!

Some aquatic mammals at the zoo escaped. It was otter chaos.

A backwards poem writes inverse.

Getting the ability to fly would be so uplifting.

I asked my friend, Nick, if he had 5 cents I could borrow. But he was Nicholas.

The soundtrack for Blackfish was orcastrated.

Where do you imprison a skeleton? In a rib cage.

There’s a fine line between the numerator and the denominator.

I used to work at a hairdresser but i just wasn’t cut out for it.

Why is metal and a microwave a match made in heaven? When they met, sparks flew.

The lumberjack loved his new computer. He especially enjoyed logging in.

Garbage collectors are rubbish drivers!

When the church relocated it had an organ transplant.

Lettuce take a moment to appreciate this salad pun.

The scarecrow get promoted because he was outstanding in his field.

Sleeping comes so naturally to me, I could do it with my eyes closed.

I never understood odorless chemicals, they never make scents.

What do prisoners use to call each other? Cell phones.

Why was dumbo sad? He felt irrelephant.

When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.

Old skiers never die. They just go down hill.

Did you hear about the pun that was actually funny? Neither have we.

You know why I like egg puns? They crack me up!

Want to hear a pun about ghosts? That's the spirit!

I used to make clown shoes… which was no small feat.

Did you hear about the human cannonball? Too bad he got fired!

What happened when the magician got mad? She pulled her hare out!

Did you hear about the circus that caught on fire? It was in tents.

The one day of the week that eggs are definitely afraid of is Fry-day.

A hen will always leave her house through the proper eggs-it.

The man who ate too many eggs was considered to be an egg-oholic.

All the hens consider the chef to be very mean because he beats the eggs.

Eskimos keep all of their chilled eggs inside of the egg-loo.

Under the doctor’s advice, the hen is laying off eggs for a few weeks.

I had a real problem making a hard-boiled egg this morning until I cracked it.

The best time of day to eat eggs is at the crack of dawn.

The chicken coop only had 2 doors since if it had 4 doors it would be a sedan.

Crossing a cement mixer and a chicken will result in you getting a brick layer.

That reckless little egg always seems to egg-celerate when he sees the light turn yellow.

Hopefully this egg pun doesn't make your brain too fried or scrambled.

Don't ever have multiple people wash dishes together. It's hard for them to stay in sink.

People using umbrellas always seem to be under the weather.

I dissected an iris today. It was an eye-opening experience.

What was Forrest Gump’s email password? 1forrest1.

What planet is like a circus? Saturn, it has three rings!

Before my father died he worked in a circus as a stilt walker. I used to look up to him.

Why did the lion eat the tightrope walker? He wanted a well-balanced meal!

I really look up to my tall friends.

I hate negative numbers and will stop at nothing to avoid them.

Long fairy tales have a tendency to dragon.

It takes guts to make a sausage.

via reddit

[pcrkjmin]

📱 para yohanie!!

&. send me a “📱” and I will answer the following:

 muchas gracias por enviar babe, disfruta el nonsense <3

what was my muses 5 last sent texts to chanmi?

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - istg que esos premios de idols son más interesantes que cualquier otro reality show que pasen en la tele sddkjdkjaskjsa habrías ganado tho, yo creo 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - amor JAJAJAJAJA 😅😅 que graciosos son los humanos chiquitos, no crees? muy graciosos y también el esposo de tu amiga, lmao debería ser comediante con las cosas que se le ocurren jajaja 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - hola buenas tardes, préstame atención porque mi ENTIRE FAMILY wants to come for summer vacation y yo no sé como decirles que, posiblemente, estemos embarazados y tampoco sé como decirles que toda la plática de los condones y eso que me dieron (un trauma, si me preguntas) no me sirvió de nada :D anyway jejej vamos a almorzar juntos? 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - A WHOLE WEEK WITH MY GIRL? wow me siento privilegiado, ganador, triunfante. creo que no te he tenido para mí solo por una semana entera desde que íbamos a la escuela y nos veíamos a diario en clases dkjdskjdskjd por supuesto que chanwoo-hyung paga, recuerdas que soy un jugador de baloncesto sin salario? bueno, cuando nos vamos? :D

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - estaba dormido y tu debías estar haciendo lo mismo, pero te lo dejo pasar porque me sacaste una sonrisa at a whole asscrack of dawn. te amo, bonita; me habría vuelto loco si no te encontraba de nuevo, honestamente. estoy muy feliz que el destino nos juntara más rápido de lo esperado ❤️❤️

what was my muses 5 last unsent texts to chanmi?

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - ok pero si yo fuera idol, me enviarías tu número por los sandwiches que dan backstage o.....????? 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - ya pero tu crees que eso de los bebés sea cierto? porque una vez un mocoso andaba de pegajoso con mi hermana y usualmente ese niño no le hace caso nunca (porque me ama a mi, obvio) así que ahora estoy pensando que quizá yoa- 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - ¿estás en el trabajo? te extraño 😭

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - ngl, esto del baloncesto ya me está bajando mucho el ánimo... ¿debería hablarlo con mis papás? ¿debería renunciar y buscar otro trabajo? 

[ para: preciosa💖 ] - noona, ¿y si no soy la mejor opción para ustedes? ¿no crees que estamos cometiendo un error grande? lo puedes perder todo y por mi culpa, ¿no te enoja eso? 

what was my muses last snapchat to chanmi?

casi no usa snapchat pero aquí. la caption decía like “would you still smash if i were an undercover russian spy? be honest” porque vio una película de eso lmao.

what my muse saved chanmi’s number as?

las primeras dos veces la guardó como “chanmi-noona” y ahora la tiene como “preciosa 💖” porque está hermosa y la ama :)

what contact photo my muse has set for chanmi?

esta, la ha tenido desde la escuela. es su foto favorita ever porque no podía creer que alguien como THE chanmi lo miraba así

what ringtone my muse has set for chanmi?

yohan a basic bitch así que tiene el default de ios 

how many times my muse has called chanmi this week? 

mmmmmm supongo que depende de cuántas veces se vieron, pero igual yohan no es mucho de hacer llamadas. diré que unas cinco, maybe 

how many calls has my muse missed from yours?

ayyyyyy ngl yo creo que unas 10 djkakasdkjadskj, yohan en serio es malo con las llamadas y a veces las escucha pero se espera a que dejen de llamar para enviar un mensaje preguntando que quieren 

[marcopolorules]

"Hay una vieja querella, ustedes lo saben, entre ser y aparentar. Ser me parece algo más seguro. Aparentar, más apropiado para desaparecer. Porque seguía espiándome, se preocupaba con torpeza. Las personas, casi todas, no saben preocuparse por los demás con delicadeza, modestia y sin presunciones. Creen saber. Mi hermana creía saber. Conocer a la humanidad. Era muy pesada. No me gusta la gente que sabe. O que muestra que sabe. El saber no sabe. Pero eso pocos lo entienden."⠀ ⠀ "There is an old quarrel, you know, between being and pretending. Being seems somewhat safer to me. Appear, more appropriate to disappear. Because he kept spying on me, he worried awkwardly. People, almost all, do not know how to care for others with delicacy, modesty and without presumption. They think they know. My sister thought she knew. Get to know humanity. It was very heavy. I don't like people who know. Or showing that you know. Knowing does not know. But that few understand."⠀ ⠀ Fleur Jaeggy⠀ El último de la estirpe / The last of the lineage⠀ & Zbylut Grzywacz (artist)⠀ ⠀ ⠀ #portraitpainting #oilpaint #oilpainting #oilpainter #oilpaintings #oilpaints #oilportrait #oiloncanvas #contemporaryart #oilpaintingart #oilfeature #contemporaryartist #contemporarypainting #contemporarypainter #contemporarypaintings #contemporary_art #contemporarypainters #contemporaryfigurativeart #contemporaryoilpainting #modernart #modernpainting #artgallery #contemporaryartgallery #figurativeart #figurativepainting #figurativeoilpainting #figurativeportrait #vagabondwho #marcopolorules #zbylutgrzywacz https://www.instagram.com/p/CLJc-gpH1fl/?igshid=fvxozmcx8pti

[shiroyasha-01]

Jump Festa 2020 – Gintama Stage Carta de Hideaki Sorachi A todos los que miran el Gintama Stage ... A Kugimi ... Y a aquellos que no son ni agradables / divertidos ni amigos, sino solo hombres de mediana edad ... ¿Cómo estás? Finalmente, el lanzamiento de Gintama THE FINAL se acerca rápidamente, pero ignorando eso, el mundo está en una locura Kimetsu sin precedentes. Las colaboraciones con Kimetsu están en todas partes. Estos inútiles que mueven la cola para aprovechar su popularidad están por todas partes. ¿No es suficiente ya? Ya que ahora se está volviendo una monstruosidad, ¿puedo acabar con ellos? ¡¡¡Yo, Sorachi Hideaki, estoy preguntando si podría aplastar a mi insolente junior y poner fin a esta locura de Kimetsu, bastardos !!! No me importa si los ingresos de los  libros es de 20 mil millones o 30 mil millones. ¡¡Solo lo dejo pasar y para que lo sepas, puedo terminarlo en segundos si me pongo serio al respecto !!. De verdad ... !! Esto es confidencial ... ¡pero incluso envié a un espía de aquí para infiltrarse en los "Hashira" que son los miembros principales allí !, con una señal mía, Sugi ... Si quieres, ¡puedo darte la señal ahora mismo !, ¿debo llenar la ropa interior de Sugita Tomokazu con caca ahora? Está bien, ¿verdad, Tomokazu? Estás listo para eso, ¿verdad? Incluso lo dijiste, ¿verdad? Que en el guión de Tanjiro hay "Voy a sacar una caca más larga que la nariz del Tengu", dijiste eso, ¿verdad? A Suzumura e Hino que traicionaron a Gintama y fueron a Kimetsu. ¡¡Voy por un cuenco de arroz !! Sin embargo, ¡perdono a Ishida Akira !, porque después de todo, incluso en la grabación de Kimetsu, apuesto a que no abre su corazón a nadie. Incluso estaba hablando mal de todos, ¿verdad? En mi caso, es solo una broma, sabes ~ Teheee ~ Dicho esto, 20 mil millones es imposible, por lo que nosotros, el equipo de Gintama, estamos apuntando a "memoria (kioku)" en lugar de "grabar (kiroku)". Estaba pensando si había algo que pudiera hacer por última vez  para el anime de Gintama, ¡así que dibujé una postal especial !. Mientras lo dibujaba, fluían muchos sentimientos, así que terminé dibujando 10 de ellos ... ¡¡Quiero que todos vean el último look de los personajes que dibujé !! (Mostraron aquí la ilustración de KNY de Sorachi sensei) ¡Cumpliré mi obligación! ¡Usaré cualquier medio solo para atraer más clientes a este anime! El "Hashira" y los demás estarán esperando en las salas de cine. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To everyone watching the Gintama Stage... To Kugimi... And to those who who are neither pleasant/amusing nor friends but just middle-aged men... How are you doing? Finally, the release of Gintama THE FINAL is fast approaching but ignoring that, the world is in an unprecedented Kimetsu craze. Collaborations with Kimetsu are everywhwere. These good-for-nothing who wag their tails to take advantage of its popularity are just all over the place. Isn't it enough already? Since it's becoming an eyesore now, can I finish them off? I, Soracho Hideakim is asking if I could crush my impudent junior and put an end to this Kimetsu craze, you bastards!!! I din't care if the books-office reveue is 20 billion or 30 billon. I'm just letting it slide and just so you know, I can finish it off in seconds if I get serius about it!!. For real... like seriously!! This is confidential... but I even sent a spy fromo here to infiltrate the "Hashira" who are the core members there!, with one signal form me, Sugi.... If you want, I can give the signal rigtht now!, should I fill Sugita Tomokazu's underwear with poop now?. That's okay right, Tomokazu? You're ready for that, right? You even said it, rieght? That in Tanjiro's script there's "I'm going to squeeze out a poop longer than the Tengu's nose", you said that, right? To Suzumura and Hino who betrayed Gintama, and went to Kimetsu. I'm going for one rice bowl!! However, I forgive Ishida Akira!. Because after all, even in Kimetsu recording, I bet he doesn't open his heart to anyone. He even was bad-mouthing everyone, right!?. In my case, it's just joke you know~ Teheee~ With that being said, 20 billion is imposible, so we, the Gintama, is aiming for "memory (kioku)" instead of "record (kiroku)"! I was Thinking if there is something I could do for the last time for anime Gintama so I drew a special postcard!. While I was drawing it, a lot of feelings were ovweflowing so ended up drawing 10 of it... I want you all to see the last look of the characters I drew!! (They showed here Sorachi sensei's illustration of KNY) I will my obligation! I will use any means just to draw more customers to this anime that jumped the shark!! The "Hashira" and the others will be waiting at the movie theaters.

Jump Festa 2020 - Puede haber algunos errores de interpretación en la traducción, les pido disculpas por eso...

[laannie0803]

El rey Aerys I Targaryen fue el segundo hijo del rey Daeron II Targaryen y la reina Myriah Martell. Fue Rey de los Siete Reinos entre 209 y 221 d.C.

Compartía con su padre la afición por la lectura, los libros, las profecías y el misterio.

Desposó a su prima, Lady Aelinor Penrose, pero nunca mostró ningún interés en tener hijos con ella. Se rumoreaba que Aerys ni siquiera había consumado el matrimonio.

Siendo un niño su sobrino, el príncipe Aegon, escuchó a Aerys leer en una profecía sobre el retorno a la vida de los dragones.

El nuevo rey Aerys I nombró a su tío Brynden Ríos como Mano del Rey y le dejó gobernar para dedicarse al estudio de los libros y el saber popular. Durante su reinado fue un erudito que prefería leer a gobernar; comenzó el dicho en los Siete Reinos de que "Aerys se llevará un libro a su cama antes que a su esposa". Como Aerys I aún no había engendrado hijos con su esposa Aelinor, su Consejo Privado, creyendo que Aerys I evitaba su cama porque le disgustaba, instó a Aerys a dejar a Aelinor y a tomar otra esposa. Sin embargo, Aerys no quería ni oír hablar del tema, y permanecieron casados.

Como Aerys I era visto como un monarca reservista y débil, los Feugoscuro trataron de tomar partido. Lord Gormon Peake, un leal a los Fuegoscuro, guió a Daemon II Fuegoscuro en su regreso a Poniente, e intentó reunir apoyo para una revuelta, la Segunda Rebelión Fuegoscuro. Gracias a la red de espías de Lord Cuervo de Sangre, y las intervenciones de Ser Duncan el Alto y su escudero, la rebelión quedó en un intento fallido durante el Torneo de Murosblancos.

Debido a que su matrimonio con su prima Aelinor Penrose no produjo hijos, en el curso de su reinado Aerys I reconoció varios herederos, aunque ninguno fue hijo suyo. Su hermano Rhaegel había muerto en 215 d.C. durante un festín, ahogado con un pastel de lamprea. El hijo de Rhaegel, Aelor, se convirtió entonces en Príncipe de Rocadragón y heredero al trono. Sin embargo, dos años después, Aelor murió en un grotesco accidente a manos de su propia hermana gemela y esposa, Aelora, en circunstancias desconocidas que la dejaron loca de dolor. Aelora pasó a ser Princesa de Rocadragón y heredera al trono.

La Tercera Rebelión Fuegoscuro tuvo lugar en 219 d.C. y terminó con la captura de Aegor Ríos y la muerte de Haegon Fuegoscuro. Aceroamargo fue hecho prisionero en Desembarco del Rey. Mientras que Cuervo de Sangre y Aerion Targaryen querían que Aceroamargo fuera ejecutado, el rey Aerys se mostró misericordioso, dándole la opción de pasar el resto de sus días como hermano juramentado de la Guardia de la Noche. El navío que se encargó de transportarlo hacia el Muro fue interceptado cerca de Guardiaoriente del Mar por algunos partidarios Fuegoscuro, con lo que Aegor pudo ser rescatado y regresó con la Compañía Dorada al otro lado del Mar Angosto.

Finalmente, Aerys I fue sucedido a su muerte en 221 d.C. por su hermano Maekar.

King Aerys I Targaryen was the second son of King Daeron II Targaryen and Queen Myriah Martell. He was King of the Seven Kingdoms between 209 and 221 AD.

He shared with his father a fondness for reading, books, prophecies and mystery.

He married his cousin, Lady Aelinor Penrose, but never showed any interest in having children with her. It was rumored that Aerys had not even consummated the marriage.

As a child, his nephew, Prince Aegon, heard Aerys read in a prophecy about the return to life of dragons.

The new king Aerys I named his uncle Brynden Ríos as Mano del Rey and let him rule to devote himself to the study of books and popular knowledge. During his reign he was a scholar who preferred to read than to rule; began the saying in the Seven Kingdoms that "Aerys will take a book to his bed before his wife". As Aerys I had not yet fathered children with his wife Aelinor, his Privy Council, believing that Aerys I avoided his bed because he disliked him, urged Aerys to leave Aelinor and take another wife. However, Aerys did not even want to hear about it, and they remained married.

As Aerys I was seen as a weak and reservist monarch, the Feugoscuro tried to take sides. Lord Gormon Peake, a loyal to the Darkfires, guided Daemon II Darkfire on his return to Westeros, and attempted to muster support for a revolt, the Second Darkfire Rebellion. Thanks to the Blood Raven Lord's spy network, and the interventions of Ser Duncan the Tall and his squire, the rebellion was left unsuccessful during the White Walls Tournament.

Due to the fact that his marriage with his cousin Aelinor Penrose did not produce children, in the course of his reign Aerys I recognized several heirs, although none were his son. His brother Rhaegel had died in A.D. 215. during a feast, drowned in a lamprey cake. Rhaegel's son Aelor then became Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the throne. However, two years later, Aelor died in a grotesque accident at the hands of his own twin sister and wife, Aelora, in unknown circumstances that left him insane with pain. Aelora became Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the throne.

The Third Fuegoscuro Rebellion took place in A.D. 219. and ended with the capture of Aegor Ríos and the death of Haegon Firefighter. Aceroamargo was taken prisoner in King's Landing. While Blood Raven and Aerion Targaryen wanted Bittersweet to be executed, King Aerys was gracious, giving him the option to spend the rest of his days as a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. The ship that was in charge of transporting it to the Wall was intercepted near Guardiaoriente del Mar by some Fuegoscuro supporters, with which Aegor could be rescued and returned with the Golden Company to the other side of the Narrow Sea.

Finally, Aerys I was succeeded upon his death in A.D. 221. by his brother Maekar.

[phertxa]

La revolución de la tristeza

The Midnight Gospel

Hola mis niñes ¿cómo están? ¿Bien? Que bueno. 

Voy a entrar en tema de una vez, porque… pues porque puedo, quiero y es mi columna, cuando tengan su columna hacen lo que quieran. The Midnight Gospel es una serie animada para adultos creada por Pendleton Ward y Duncan Trussell, Pendleton es conocido por Adventure Time y Duncan es un reconocido comediante gringo. La serie sigue al spacecaster Clancy, que posee un simulador de multiversos. Mediante este, Clancy viaja a través de planetas; y casi siempre elige los que están a dos minutos de un apocalipsis, con el objetivo de entrevistar a sus habitantes para su spacecast.

Agrego que spacecast es como podcast, lo que es curioso porque todo el show se basa en el podcast real Duncan Trussell Family Hour de Trussell, a Ward le gustó tanto ese podcast que prácticamente le rogó a Duncan que trabajara con él y aunque Duncan no quería, lo convenció y así nació The Midnight Gospel. 

Resulta que esta serie está rompiendo paradigmas en series animadas, en esta columna hemos hablado de varias, pero esta se voló la barda. Para empezar, la fórmula con la que la hicieron es poco común, Ward tomó el audio del podcast de Duncan e hizo la animación. Técnicamente no hay un orden para ver la serie, pero recomiendo ampliamente que se vea como está, pues poco a poco sube el nivel de intensidad de las conversaciones.

Y entonces aquí me van a preguntar ¿de qué trata este The Midnight Gospel, tía Pao? Ya me dijiste que es de un podcast, que el vato de Hora de Aventura… pero ¿y porqué la tengo que ver? Es complicado, mis niñes, The Midnight Gospel trata de los temas importantes de la vida: la mgia, meditación, perdón, espiritualismo, rituales funerarios, lo positivo de la muerte, el uso de drogas, el dolor, trascendencia y el existencialismo, todo esto en un formato de entrevista y acompañada de la animación, quién añade otro lenguaje que sirve de fondo para las historias, de alguna manera complementan el diálogo de Clancy.

La serie ha recibido una crítica  positiva por parte de los críticos, también la chulearon por su estética, animación, y la manera en la que trata temas profundos y filosóficos. Según Rotten Tomatoes tiene un 88% de aprobación. 

Algunos han comparado a The Midnight Gospel con Rick y Morty, tanto por el estilo de animación como por la manera en la que tratan temas. David Opie, de Digital Spy, afirma que ambos programas cambian la perspectiva de los espectadores sobre su forma de ver la vida “Rick y Morty abarca el nihilismo más que otros, se desarrolla en el caos del punto de vista anárquico de Rick, pero el mundo termina realmente una y otra vez en The Midnight Gospel, dando un contrapunto cósmico a las enseñanzas introspectivas del spacecast”.

¿Están de acuerdo con lo que dice Opie o solo afirman lo que alguien mas dice para parecer inteligentes?

No les recomiendo esta serie si nunca se han preguntado la razón de su propia existencia, sería una perdida de tiempo, quizá sueno pretenciosa, pero es la verdad. 

The Midnight Gospel es de esas series que tocan fibras sensibles, sin embargo, necesitas saber que tienes esas fibras, no sé si me explico; hay personas que van por la vida jurándose profundas y solo están siguiendo una moda. No sean ellos.

Lo que quiero decir es que si bien, es una serie sumamente entretenida y que cualquiera (evidentemente) puede ver, no es para todos. 

Les voy a dar una ejemplo: La Ayahuasca. La ayahuasca es una bebida tradicional indígena  usada en Sudamérica por muchos pueblos amazónicos, genera efectos alucinógenos y hay rituales en los que se invita a tomarla; pero ahora las personas hacen “turismo de Ayahuasca” en el que van y buscan la experiencia para mejorar su estado físico, espiritual y mental. Y conozco a algunas personas que juran que llegaron a un nirvana o a un autoconocimiento inducido por ella, pero no hay un cambio en su día a día, lo que sí hay es una verborrea diaria sobre su “experiencia” cuando la tomaron. Y no solo es con ayahuasca, puede ser con cualquier droga o viaje. Las personas quieren (queremos) llegar a un lugar, pero no caminar y cansarte en el camino. 

Algo así pasa con The Midnight Gospel, la verán muchos, por que quieren ser profundos y mantener un halo de misterio en sus vidas, pero la realidad es que mientras la veían posteaban fotos de su comida balanceada o de sus vacaciones de hace 10 años en Europa… 

¿Quién soy yo para juzgarlos? Supongo que está bien que todos lo veamos para que por lo menos se siembre la semilla de la curiosidad, lo único que les voy a pedir es que si ven The Midnight Gospel, aprovéchenlo, busquen y averigüen sobre los autores, filósofos y corrientes que se mencionan, no se queden a mitad del camino, no es una obligación, pero creo que cuando llegan este tipo de productos deberíamos sacarles provecho.

Creo que la vida es algo más que solo vivir, y también considero que como seres pensantes podemos darnos el lujo de preguntarnos ¿quiénes somos? ¿qué hacemos aquí? ¿qué pasa después de morir? Aunque no tengamos las respuestas. Porque cada quién tiene una respuesta propia para cada pregunta, pero si leemos o platicamos con otras personas sobre estas incógnitas podríamos, quizá, abrirnos a una nueva existencia.

Les dejo este bonito verso de "You Are My Sunshine" una canción escrita por  Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell en 1939, muchas personas la han cantado, pero les recomiendo la versión de Johnny Cash, esta canción la canta un perro con cuernos que están matando unos payasos parásitos en uno de los mundos que visita Clancy, y es bonito porque habla de la aceptación de la muerte y ya. 

In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me

When I awake my poor heart pains

So when you come back and make me happy

I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame.

[phantom-carriage]

DEGRADATION

A cold, colourless room full of petrified human figures. Standing still, passionately suffering.

Well, that is a way you could explain a department of greek and roman sculptures in the Louvre Museum, France. And it will not be a matter of ignorance or lack of art education; alienation and aggressiveness would be the key words on this analysis. I will choose to be (and stay, even if warned afterwards) blind. Critically frozen and misled, I will not see the full picture, just the small chip of marble that looks weird. 

When Polanski decides to put Picquart as our guide on this filmed view on the Dreyfus Affair, he puts us through a man’s changing point of view, first as an anti-semitic ordinary man to one whose life would be severely thorn by defending a Jew’s honour. That we follow Picquart ascension of consciousness as he realizes the military has put on him black-and-white lenses of the Good and Evil, is a director’s way of saying he wants to go beyond the historical affair. Maybe he’s trying to say, “beware, there are more of these old men out there - right here, right now”. 

With an intention of telling a sober story of a past not to be turned into future again, “J’Accuse” goes straight into the point: a Jewish military man is accused of treason and loses his freedom for it. When Alfred Dreyfus says “you’re accusing an innocent man” we can hear a crowd roaring “liar, traitor!”, that and the sneer of his higher officers. The ritual of undressing a once respectable man is quick and geometrical, brief enough for the audience to understand something may not be fair. But the visual throughout the movie tells it all; the square is grey and mortified by rain and ice. Officers stand repeated and mimetical. The fine work of colour correction makes uniforms stand, shining in gold, red and black. The opening scene (or, to be honest, most part of the film) could be read in a Foucault-like mind: institutional-tempered bodies ready to discipline and punish.

When it becomes clear that colonel Picquart will fight for justice, his uniform suits becomes more frequently worn with a greyish light-blue shade. He is not fully under the Military’s scope of protection anymore, but he never ceases to abide by it. As well as Dreyfus; both respect orders and hierarchy and believe it can (and will) save them from harm. Turns out it is almost impossible because, as colonel Henry conveniently says, “the mind of an officer holds secrets that even his own kepi must not know about”. The result is that prejudices are justified to contour mistakes; docile bodies choose to keep their sick attitude in order to maintain a status quo. Set in 1894, Dreyfus’ trial should have been an eye-opener on how institutions fail constantly - and how anti-semitism was already triomphant in this grey world. 

Blood-red uniforms and hypocrysis mingle in a sad, cold and worrisome end of a century. "Laisser tomber", even if generations ahead still collect the ruins of such tarnished moral. 

J'ACCUSE

I'm uncertain If I enjoyed the formal aspects of this movie. While the narrative choices, frames, art production and color were magnificent, I felt a certain disconnection between the movie's pace and the way audiences may perceive it. Music doesn't guide us, except for punctual transition scenes: so It is only there to wrap up a feeling (anxiety, sadness) and move on with the storyline. Though that's an aspect of commercial/ hollywoodian movies, here it is not enough to dictate a profound emotion audiences should feel. It got me thinking maybe Polanski didn't want music at all but was convinced by producers to at least put some. "J'Accuse" runs for two hours and fifteen minutes, written and spoken in French (we know that is an issue for audiences used to Hollywood-language), with no amount of visual acrobatics for a lazy audience to enjoy. It is a sober movie despite the terrible "cloudy" transition fades (those made me laugh) and Jean Dujardin's charming prince expressions. Don't get me wrong, he acted fiercely, but I can't help but smiling when he raises an eyebrow. On the sordid insertion of a feminino character, that depends on rapid and expressionless cuts to gain some more screen running time, I will say no more. Each one of us will know how to read the director's choices over the feminine body. With all that said, I hope I bite my tongue and "J'Accuse" reaches great and diverse audience; the racism, anti-semitism and blind obedience themes are always, unfortunately, heated.  

---

DEGRADAÇÃO

Uma sala fria e desbotada, cheia de figuras humanas petrificadas. Imóveis, sofrendo violentamente. 

Bem, essa é uma maneira de se explicar o departamento de esculturas greco-romanas no Museu do Louvre, na França. E não seria uma questão de ignorância, de falta de educação em Artes; alienação e agressividade seriam as palavras-chave nesta análise. Eu escolho ser (e ficar para sempre, mesmo que posteriormente avisada) cega. Criticamente congelada e enganada, eu não vou ver o todo, só a lasquinha de mármore que me parece estranha. 

Quando Polanski decide colocar Picquart como nosso guia neste olhar filmado sobre o Caso Dreyfus, ele nos coloca na mudança de ponto-de-vista de um homem, antes como um anti-semita qualquer e então como um homem cuja vida seria profundamente magoada ao defender a honra de um judeu. Que nós sigamos a ascensão de consciência de Picquart quando ele entende que a vida militar lhe botou um óculos preto-e-branco do Bem e do Mal, é a maneira do diretor dizer que quer o filme além das questões históricas. Talvez tentando dizer: “atenção, existem muitos desses velhos homens por aí - aqui e agora”. 

Com a intenção de contar uma história sóbria de um passado que não se deve tornar futuro novamente, "O Oficial e o Espião" vai direto ao ponto: um capitão judeu é acusado de traição e perde sua liberdade por isso. Quando Alfred Dreyfus diz "vocês estão acusando um homem inocente", ouvimos o rugido da multidão gritando "mentiroso, traidor!", isso e o sorriso discretamente sarcástico de seus superiores. O ritual de despir um homem até então honrado é rápido e geométrico, breve o suficiente para o público entender que algo ali talvez não seja justo. Mas o visual de todo o filme aponta isso; a praça é cinza, mortificada por gelo e chuva. Soldados em posição são repetidos e miméticos. O ótimo trabalho da correção de cor faz os uniformes brilharem seus detalhes de ouro, vermelho e preto. A cena de abertura (ou, sinceramente, a maior parte do filme) poderia ser lida de modo foucaultiano: corpos institucionais prontos para vigiar e punir.

Quando se torna claro que o coronel Picquart procurará justiça, seu uniforme se torna mais frequentemente usado em tons de azul-claro acinzentado. Ele não está mais completamente protegido sob a guarda do Exército, mas nunca cessa de obedecê-la e seguir suas regras. Assim como Dreyfus; ambos respeitam ordens e hierarquias e crêem que essas podem (e vão) salvá-los. Acontece que isso é praticamente impossível porque, como coronel Henry diz convenientemente, "a mente de um soldado tem segredos que nem mesmo seu quepe poderá conhecer". O resultado é que preconceitos são justificados para se contornar erros; corpos dóceis escolhem manter seus fazeres doentios a fim de que se mantenha o status quo. Em 1894, o julgamento de Dreyfus deveria ter sido um sinal de alerta para a constante falha das instituições - e de como o anti-semitismo já era triunfante naquele mundo cinzento. 

Uniformes cor-de-sangue e hipocrisias se misturam em um frio, triste e aterrador fim de século. "Laisser tomber", mesmo que gerações posteriores ainda recolham as ruínas de uma moral tão destruída. 

EU ACUSO

Não tenho certeza se gostei dos aspectos formais deste filme. Enquanto as escolhas narrativas, direção de arte e cor são magníficas, senti certa disconexão entre o ritmo do filme e a maneira com que o público talvez o perceba. A música não nos guia, exceto por pontuais transições de cena: então ela está lá só pra finalizar um sentimento (ansiedade, tristeza) e seguir com a linha do tempo do história. Mesmo que isso seja um aspecto de filmes comerciais/hollywoodianos, aqui ele não é suficiente para ditar uma profunda emoção que o público deveria sentir. Fiquei pensando que talvez Polanski nem quisesse música mas foi convencido pelos produtores a ter pelo menos um pouco. 

"O Oficial e o Espião" tem duas horas e quinze minutos de duração, escrito e falado em francês (sabemos que isso é um problema para públicos acostumados com o idioma Hollywood), sem acrobacias o suficiente para o gosto de um público preguiçoso. É um filme sóbrio apesar de suas terríveis transições de fade "em nuvem" (eu ri) e o rostinho de príncipe encantado de Jean Dujardin. Não me leve a mal, a atuação dele é forte, mas não consigo deixar de sorrir quando ele levanta uma sobrancelha só. Sobre a inserção desprezível de uma personagem feminina, que precisa do auxílio dos cortes campo-contracampo para ter mais tempo de tela, nada mais direi. Cada uma de nós saberá como ler as escolhas do diretor sobre o corpo feminino. Dito tudo isto, espero que eu morda minha língua e que "O Oficial e o Espião" chegue num grande e diverso público; o racismo, anti-semitismo e a obediência cega são temas sempre quentes, infelizmente. 

The Officer and the Spy (J’Accuse)

Dir.: Roman Polanski France, 2020

[missywardwell-blog]

Scarlet Calavera Pt.1

>scarlet is based on the twins from the Book Of Life. I came up with the idea for this story while watching the movie a few years back and posted it on Devianart. I’m re-writing what I can and hope someone will like it.

Scarlet looked away from the machine she was working on and to the boy working on one behind her. Then looked to the grey ashen sky that seemed to blend with the leveled rocky and gloomy terrain they were forced to live on. The bright yellow eyes she had were filled with a jaded passion. Her heart was thudding loudly in her chest to the thought of a possibility of escaping this hell on earth.

"Are you sure this will work?" she asked.

Her accent still as thick as the day she learned how to talk English. He looked up from the machine with a sigh as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"If we do this right then, yes, it will..." he replied calmly.

"We can stop this from happening...we have to and if we don't succeed," he paused for a moment as he helped her stand up. "Who says we have to come back?"

She gave a slight smirk to his reply. Her makeup giving her the look of a smirking candy skull. She closed the panel to the machine and fixed her long tan skirt and the black cropped shirt to her slightly underweight figure.

"Adios Cala vera." he said with a slight grin and attempted Spanish. "I'll meet you there."

"I’ll see you in the past then." She replied quietly.

He closed the pod and backed away as it powered on. The moment he blinked, it was gone.

"Do you think she can be trusted? She's been alive as long as him yet she doesn't age...known him as just as long too...she could be his spy..." he heard an older man say.

He turned to face him before returning to his work on his pod.

"Besides you, she's the only other person I can trust...and from what I remember, apart from everything falling apart when the Flash died, her disappearance also caused a rift within the team..." he replied as he finished.

"So she's a key role in all this?" The boy nodded. "We're counting on you kid."

He changed into his disguise after a few more words were exchanged between them. Before the older male knew it, he was gone.

But the present time for him remained the same in the desolate area they had been cursed to live in. Nothing had yet changed.

2015

"It seems a new hero has been spotted throughout the city of Nuevo Leòn Mexico. Witnesses report seeing her take down many threats that have risen in those parts quite recently." The news reporter began as a video was pulled up besides her.

"Here is a video that was taken just yesterday when this hero, now known as "Calavera", defeated the villain known as-"

The image on the T.V became a thin line before disappearing completely with sound and all. The young girl who had been leniently watching the T.V blinked her brown eyes at the owner of the diner.

"Esa mujer no sabe lo que dice." He said grumpily.

(That woman doesn't know what she's saying.)

She raised a thin eyebrow curiously. "¿Oh? Y por que?" She questioned.

(Oh? And why not?)

"Esa persona en el video no es cualquier héroe, que es La Muerte a sí misma."

(The person in the video isn't just any hero, she is death herself.)

He said this as though it was a matter of fact. She put the pencil down and pushed her sketch book aside.

"Si eso fuera cierto, entonces ¿por qué es que derrotar a los criminales y no la gestión de los muertos?"

(If that were true, then why is she defeating villains and not managing the dead?)

"Porque yo la vi." he said refilling the glass of orange juice she had ordered about an hour ago.

(Because I saw her...)

"Ella era como una de esas calaveras de dulce para el Día de Los Muertos. Hecha de azúcar y todo lo que se recuerda en este mundo."

(She was like one of those candy skulls for the day of the dead. Made of sugar and all that is remembered in this world.)

"Con una pasión en sus ojos que dijo que quería arreglar todo como debe ser."

(With a passion in her eyes that said she wanted to fix everything as it should be.)

"Pero podría ser que estoy imaginando cosas. El Día de Los Muertos es esta semana y todavía tengo mucho que preparar."

(But it could be that I am just imagining things. The day of the dead is this week and I still have a lot to prepare.)

He chuckled slightly as she put her things away in her side bag. She pulled out a small candy skull and placed it on the counter with the money to cover her breakfast.

"Gracias y que tengan un gran semana."

(Thank you and have a great week.)

She smiled before drinking the last of her juice and taking her leave.

"Usted también mi hija..."

(you too my child.)

A flash of red sparked in his dark green eyes as she walked out of the diner door. When she was out of sight, he walked into the kitchen with the small sugar skull in hand and out the back door. Passing an old telephone pole and vanishing into thin air.

[berensaats]

olá, dlçs! venho aqui novamente para rogar por três plots em particular, os quais são os seguintes:

i. um plot baseado no bunny spy, ou: muse a é umx assassinx de aluguel de alto escalão para seu governo, conhecidx pelo codinome “killzone”, porque elx nunca erra o alvo. muse b é umx manipuladorx sedutorx, trabalhando em segredo para outro governo, extraindo segredos de outros países e coletando material pra remover pessoas de posições de poder. não era para elxs se encontrarem, mas isso acontece mesmo assim. elxs não sabem da real identidade umx dx outrx e, apesar de seus melhores esforços, acabam se apaixonando. até que a verdade vem à luz e tudo começa a ruir (preferência por muse b).

ii. um plot baseado em şahane damat, ou: muse a teve de mentir para sua família na intenção de permanecer na capital quando seus pais decidiram se mudar do país. para tanto, inventou que tinha uma carreira de sucesso e estava noiva do bem-sucedido muse b, por quem muse a nutre uma paixão platônica há anos. o único problema é que: eles nunca se conheceram nem se falaram… até que muse a é expulsa de seu apartamento por não conseguir pagar o aluguel e pede abrigo para seu melhor amigo, vizinho de muse b, na casa que é o endereço que ela passou para a família. Essa decide fazer uma visitinha sem avisar antes e encontra muse a e muse b no jardim, e é quando muse a tem de convencê-lo a fingir ser seu noivo (preferência por muse a).

iii. um plot estilo queen/mistress (f/f, preferência pela mistress). totalmente aberta a ideias, apenas necessito!

eu tenho umas outras coisinhas na minha wishlist, mas, nesse momento, esses três são minha prioridade. se tiver interesse (e paciência com a minha pessoa), é só chegar no probleminha ou dar um like aí!

[aneshkablack]

@weasley-adoptee, I agree with you in many points of you analysis. It's better than the canon could give us. I like the idea R is worse than JC says. I love the idea Merula is only a spy to MC, how R manipulate her to do everything in the canon, brainwashing her make to believe in their purpose.

I think the Duncan's death isn't aleatory, too.

In my Isolde's story, is necessary a sacrifice, not only to be a R's member, but to awake a power in the members of Hiwatari family. And R knew about it. They wanted to use the Hiwatari siblings. Jacob was the fail; with Isolde they want try to manipulate and control her.

-----

@greedyprince, ya somos dos. Y eso pues básicamente es tenebroso, porque varios grupos de delincuencia organizada usa esa táctica en la vida real (por ejemplo, el narco acá en México. Además que saben que no los procesarán como adultos). A esa edad, en la adolescencia es la etapa en donde los jóvenes forjan su personalidad, pero también buscan pertenecer a grupos y son fácilmente influenciables.

Es lo más probable, romper a MC a tal grado que desarrolle un Síndrome de Estocolmo por esa organización, y eventualmente busque tomar el poder de ésta para garantizar su sobrevivencia.

I don’t see how R can expect MC to join them after they’ve done so much to hurt them and their friends. Like sending threatening letters, having one of their members betray them then torture one of their classmates then kill their friend and send someone else to kidnap(?) them and all the other evil crap they’ve done. Why would MC want to join a group of ruthless assholes after all that? They could’ve at least made it sound a little appealing smh. The only person who’s somewhat tried to appeal to them was that healer from St Mungos but everyone else has been so forceful. They sounded like they were nicer to Merula when they got her to join so idk why they weren’t like that with MC

Frankly, I doubt they had to work very hard to convince Merula. We don't know exactly when she was recruited, but I'm going to guess that it was very early on, possibly when she was eleven years old. Meaning they preyed on a child who had no friends, who had just lost her parents, who was angry at the world and wanted nothing more than power. The power she would need to dominate everyone and never be seen as weak. I think R offered her that power, she accepted, and it was as easy as that.

MC has been more difficult for R to get their hands on, but it's also essential that they do. Merula doesn't matter. She was likely recruited for no other reason than to spy on MC. So, in other words, she's part of the plan to get MC to join. By contrast, as the future leader, it's a given that MC must join, but for whatever reason, R doesn't simply want to approach them and offer a position. That's probably because MC is their second choice. Jacob is the first born child, and we know R was after him during his time at Hogwarts. But that went up in flames, and now MC is all they have. The failure with Jacob proves that getting MC to join them is no simple matter. Hey, come to think of it, maybe that's what Rakepick was talking about...she failed to recruit Jacob, and then she failed to recruit MC. Her second chance. No wonder she assumes R is done with her.

I think R doesn't really know what to do, or how to go about getting MC to join them. By all accounts, MC doesn't want to, and they aren't the kind of person who would ever be susceptible. They're too much like Jacob. Merula is the kind of person who could easily fall victim to a cult, but MC seems to be much more resistant, regardless of player input. As time goes on, R is getting more desperate as they already lost one future leader, and now their plans to recruit the backup are crashing and burning. I also don't think R necessarily knows how to play nice. Consider this - they sent Rakepick to train MC, and I think that was their attempt to play good cop. Rakepick. Seriously.

They also might not want to play nice, and have MC turn out soft. They'd want to put MC through hell so that MC can proceed to govern hell, if that makes sense. I suspect this may be the reason why they killed Rowan. Because they also killed Duncan (I refuse to believe it was an accident) and part of me wonders if this isn't a tradition of sorts, a rite of passage. That R always kills a loved one of the person who will one day be leader. Why? I don't know, probably in the hopes of pushing them toward the Dark Side. Possibly to send the harsh message that R is all they have, and that they're willing to kill anyone else MC cares about if that's what it takes to get that through their head. And if MC wants to stop them, well, they can always play their part and eventually assume the throne - and then they're the one who can decide who lives and who dies.

[the-dork-neko]

Personagens que Não Recebem o Tempo Merecido em Cena, pt. 2 de…

Victor Marton [Vincent Price], um dos vilões do episódio The Foxes and The Hounds Affair do seriado The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (S02 E03).

Ele não é o estereótipo do vilão de filmes de espionagem. Não precisa fazer ameaças, dar gargalhadas malignas, demonstrar algum tipo de psicopatia, muito menos disparar um único tiro. Só a maravilhosa voz eloquente e sombria de Vincent Price, e a atitude que ele construiu para o personagem, em algum lugar entre a manha e a elegância, já bastam para dar ao espectador a certeza de que ele não blefa porque não poupa esforços, nem vidas, para atingir seus objetivos. Todo esse charme maligno e elegante, a forma inusitada como ele interage com os outros personagens, transformam-no num personagem marcante, e lamentavelmente pouco aproveitado.

Sem contar que o Sr. Waverly parece conhecê-lo muito bem… Qual será o passado que esses dois tiveram juntos???

Characters Who Don’t Get Their Deserved Screen Time, pt. 2 of…

Victor Marton [Vincent Price], one of the villains from the episode The Foxes and The Hounds Affair, third in the 2nd season of the nostalgic TV show The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Monsieur Marton isn’t the usual spy-fiction villain. He doesn’t need to physically threat his victims (Miss Belmont is already doing this for him), or let loose evil laughs, neither act like a psychopath, nor even fire a single gunshot.

Only Vincent Price’s eloquent, deep, dark voice, and the attitude he crafted for the character, somewhere between pouty and blasé, are more than enough to give the watchers the absolute sure that this unusual villain won’t spare efforts, or lifes, to accomplish his goals. Despite all this evilness, he has an undeniable charming way to interact with other characters, and it’s a shame that this dark gentleman wasn’t given more appeareances in the series.

It’s even sadder because Mr. Waverly seems to know Monsieur Marton very well, and I ship them so hard their past together would be a very interesting side story for the show, and a way to expand the MFU fictional universe more into the “real” history of the XXth century.

[pinkcaseotakadl]

Diabolik lovers Lost Eden Ruki Mukami (heaven 3) ~translation/traducción~

Heaven 1, heaven 2, heaven 3.  _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_ 

This translation was made by @ariadnasmtk

Place: Pool

Yui: (Yuma-kun told me that Ruki-kun was here so I came here to have a look, but…) Yui: (Where could he be…Ah!) Yui: (Ruki-kun is swimming…!) Yui: (It’s the first time I’ve seen him swimming, he’s swimming so good that I want to see him more…)

*Ruki stops swimming*

Ruki: …So you spy now, you really have strange hobbies.

*screens shakes*

Yui: *blushing*…! You noticed? Ruki: Yes. Don’t stay there…you’ll come too. Yui: Eh…Kya!

*Ruki pulls Yui to the pool*

Yui: …Umg! Ruki-kun…! Yui: (He suddenly pulled me inside the pool…I’m not even wearing a swimming suit!) Ruki: *laughs* If you came here then it means you wanted yo swim too? Yui: N-No! Ruki: Then why you were watching me so excited? Ruki: You’re gaze was lustful (-.-‘) that I noticed immediately inside the water that you were watching. Yui: (…! He knew I was watching…) Yui: …So evil Ruki: *laughs* …You haven’t answered my question. Well, it doesn’t matter, now that you are here spend some time with me.

Ruki: You won’t able to swim with your cloths on, so I’ll grab/hug you and guide you.

*Ruki get’s closer*

Yui:  Ah… Yui: (For a reason I lightened my body’s force, it feels good…) Ruki: How is it? Floating in the water feels good, right? Ruki: Besides, I feel you lighter while floating, that is good. Yui: H-How mean…! (he told her fat xD)

Yui: (I know! I rarely have an opportunity like this, so I’ll splash Ruki-kun with the water) Yui: …Take this!

*splashes*

Ruki: Hey, don’t move Yui: Fufufu Ruki: Damn… If you don’t stay still, then I won’t have another option than grabbing you with more force. Yui: Now, place your arms around my neck. Yui: (Ah…my clothes stocked perfectly on Ruki-kun’s body…) Yui: *blushes* (…Now that I think about it, I’m hugging him while facing him. I-It’s embarrassing…) Ruki: *whispering in her ear* What’s wrong? You’re suddenly blushing. Yui: Because… Yui: (I won’t say my heartbeat races because I like when he’s soaking wet…) Ruki: …Don’t look at me with those lustful eyes. I was planning to simply hug you but… Ruki: …But doing just that wouldn’t be enough Yui: R-Ruki-kun… Ruki: Your voice too…it’s only seducing me even more… *kiss* Nn…mm… Yui: *blushing* …Mm… Yui: (The pool’s water is cold, but my body is hot…it feels weird…) Yui: (Ruki-kun’s kisses are more violent that usual…) Ruki: *laughs* …don’t relax your arms. Cling into me more. Ruki: Or you will drawn.

*grips tighter*

Yui: Even if you say so… Yui: (The oxygen in my head is not enough, so I can’t grip correctly…) Ruki: …I’ll lift you. Grip tighter.

*they get out the pool?*

Ruki: …Can you stand? Or that’s what I wanted to ask…but it looks like you can’t. Ruki: What would you do if you stayed here? Yui: Is just that…today you were different than usual…I can’t put it correctly with worlds (she’s talking about the dizziness that he caused her) Ruki: …! Haa… you really… Ruki: *blushes* At this rate we’ll go back to the room _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_ Yui: *blushes* Eh…? Ruki: There’s no way I’ll take you back to your room, right. Ruki. I like to be with you, but from time to time I’ll make you stay until I’m satisfy. (I think we didn't understand this dialogue). Ruki: So today stay with me until I tell you…   

~End heaven 2~

Ari note: SO MUCH NOSEBLEEDS!!!  ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄  _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_

@0takudl @totallydiabolik

ESPAÑOL~

Lugar: Piscina.

Yui: (Yuuma-kun me dijo que Ruki-kun estaba aquí así que vine a ver pero...) Yui: (En donde demonios esta... ah!) Yui: (Ruki-kun esta nadando...!) Yui: (Es la primera vez que lo veo nadar, lo hace tan bien que quiero mirarlo más...)

*Ruki deja de nada*

Ruki: ...Así que espias, si que tienes unos pasatiempos raros

*Pantalla vibra*

Yui: *Se sonroja* ...! Te habías dado cuenta? Ruki: Si. No te quedes ahí... y tú también ven aquí Yui: Eh... kya!

*La tira adentro de la piscina*

Yui: ...Umg! Ruki-kun...! Yui: (De repente me tiró hacia adentro del agua... Ni siquiera tengo un traje de baño!) Ruki: *Risa* Si viniste hasta aquí significa que también querías nadar? Yui: N-no! Ruki: Entonces por qué estabas mirandome de esa manera tan emocionada? Ruki: Tu mirada era tan lujuriosa(khe!?) que me di cuenta de inmediato adentro del agua que me estabas mirando Yui: (...! Él sabía que yo lo estaba mirando...) (Quería parecer cool xDJAJAJAJA) Yui: ...malvado RukI: *Risas* ...todavía no me has respondido. Bueno no importa, ya que estas aquí pasa algo de tiempo conmigo

Ruki: No podrás nadar mientras lleves la ropa puesta, así que yo te abrazaré y te guiaré

*Ruki se acerca*

Yui: Ah... Yui: (De alguna manera aligeré la fuerza de mi cuerpo, se siente bien...) (Entiendo eso, cuando nado me siento en las nubes porque el peso de mi cuerpo es menos) Ruki: Qué tal? Flotar en el agua se siente bien, verdad? Ruki: Ademas, como estas flotando te siento muy liviana, es bueno Yui: Q-que malo...! (Le dijo gorda ah)

Yui: (Ya sé! Raras veces tengo una oportunidad como esta, así que salpicaré a Ruki-kun con el agua) (Que malotha) Yui: ...Ten!

*Salpica*

Ruki: Oí, no te muevas Yui: Fufu               (AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW) Ruki: Caray... Si no te quedas quieta, entonces no me queda otra que sostenerte aún más fuerte RukI: Ahora, pon tus brazos al rededor de mi cuello Yui: (Ah... mi ropa mojada quedó perfectamente adherida al cuerpo de Ruki-kun...) (Osea, quedó en pose excelente(?) Yui: *Se sonroja* (...Si lo pienso bien, estoy abrazandolo de frente. E-es vergonozoso...) Ruki: *El en oido* Qué sucede? De repente tu cara se puso roja Yui: Es porque... Yui: (No diré algo como que mi pecho se acelera porque me gusta cuando él esta mojado...) Ruki: ...No me mires con esos ojos tan lujuriosos. Sólo planeaba abrazarte pero... Ruki: ...Pero hacer sólo eso sería triste

/Vayan a un hotel cof cof

Yui: R-ruki-kun... Ruki: También tu voz... lo único que hace es seducirme aún más... *Beso* Nn... mm... Yui: *Sonrojo* ...Mm... Yui: (El agua de la piscina esta fria, pero mi cuerpo esta caliente... se siente extraño...) Yui: (Los besos de Ruki-kun son mucho más violentos que de costumbre...) RukI: *Risa leve*...no relajes tus brazos. Aferrate más a mí Ruki: De lo contrario te vas a caer

*Se aferra*

Yui: Aunque me digas eso... Yui: (El oxigeno de mi cabeza no es suficiente, lo que hace que no pueda aferrarme bien...) Ruki: ...Te levantaré. Agarrate fuertemente

*salen de la piscina?*

Ruki: ...Puede pararte? O eso quisiera preguntar... pero parece que no puedes Ruki: Qué harás si te llegas a quedar aquí? Yui: Es que... hoy estabas diferente de lo usual... no puedo decirlo bien en palabras (Yui esta hablando que se mareo por su culpa) Ruki: ...! Haa... tú realmente... Ruki: *Se sonroja* A este paso volveremos a la habitación Yui: *Sonrojaha* Eh...? Ruki: No hay forma de que lleve de vuelta a tu habitación, verdad Ruki: Me gusta estar contigo, pero de vez en cuando haré que tú estés conmigo hasta que este satisfecho (Creo que no entendí este dialogo) Ruki: Hoy quédate conmigo hasta que yo lo diga...

~Fin del heaven 3~

[marcoshassanlevy]

Marcos Hassan

; ilustración de

Clementina León

|23 August 2018, 2:47pm

A estas alturas es bastante conocido que hoy en día, Estados Unidos no es el mejor lugar para vivir si no eres un hombre blanco. Desde la llegada de Donald Trump a la presidencia, todas las minorías han sido objeto de gran discriminación, y hay un gran sector del país que explícitamente ha tomado una postura anti-latina desde que en su campaña Trump prometiera crear un muro en la frontera con México para evitar que los “bad hombres” cruzaran. Todo tomó un torno más deprimente con la deportación masiva de indocumentados y la separación de niños de sus familias en centros de detención donde han recibido tratos poco humanos. Las cosas no van bien.

Culturalmente, podría esperarse que el status quo refleje esta situación, pero vemos lo contrario: un dominio de latinxs en las listas pop. “Despacito” de Luis Fonsi y Daddy Yankee llegó al número 1 de las listas Billboard y está empatada como la canción que más tiempo ha pasado en el tope del listado. Cardi B se ha convertido en la gran protagonista del pop actual con canciones que también han llegado al número 1, como “Bodak Yellow” y “I Like It,” la última con J. Balvin y Bad Bunny. No hay artista pop hoy en día sin una canción que cuente con el beat dembow en algún sencillo o el deseo de hacer un remix en español. Como tal vez no había pasado, lxs latinxs están a la cabeza de la música pop.

Y no solo podemos hablar del mainstream. Fuera de las listas de popularidad, encontramos a muchas bandas que operan a un nivel independiente en varias ciudades del país que están logrando la hazaña de inyectarle emoción a las guitarras. Los resultados son consistentemente increíbles. Estos actos tienen un lugar especial: por un lado desarrollan su identidad a través de su música, mientras que en otro lado pueden irrumpir en espacios más allá de las comunidades latinas, como pueden ser festivales multitudinarios. Es en este escenario que encontramos a Tropa Mágica (Los Ángeles), Dos Santos (Chicago), Native Sun y La Mecánica Popular (ambos de Nueva York). Platicamos con miembros de cada uno de estos proyectos para conocer mejor su historia.

Tropa Mágica. Ilustración de #Deladeso

“Es como el personaje de Edward James Olmos en la película de Selena,” dice David Pacheco, quien junto con su hermano René forman Tropa Mágica. “‘Es difícil ser mexicano-americano porque tenemos que probar a los mexicanos qué tan mexicano somos y tenemos que probar a los estadounidenses qué tan estadounidenses somos.’” David cuenta cómo al principio sentían inseguridad al incluir cumbias en sus sets dominados por canciones de punk, pero al ver a los Kumbia Queers, dejaron de preocuparse por eso, desarrollando más su sonido y cambiando de nombre (originalmente se conocieron como Thee Commons).

“Hay un elefante en el cuarto y una realidad que se vive día a día en nuestra sociedad”, dice Danny Gómez, vocalista y guitarrista de Native Sun. “Si creces como migrante, entonces encaras discriminación, pero eso crea motivación y pasión más fuertes. Estamos enojados pero nos gustaría dar algo positivo al respecto”.

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“También vivimos en esta burbuja que es Nueva York donde encontramos gente de todos lados en nuestra vida diaria,” agrega el baterista Alexis Castro. “La escena aquí —aunque está compuesta predominantemente de hombres blancos con chamarras de mezclilla—, nos ha extendido una bienvenida bastante cálida. Ahora que salgamos de gira me da curiosidad cómo cambiará esa reacción.”

Por otro lado, Efraín Rozas, fundador de La Mecánica Popular, difiere de las declaraciones anteriores. “Para ser honesto, no conozco las experiencias de otros y por eso no me puedo comparar con nadie. Mis proyectos siempre se han movido a una escala menor y todo se promueve de boca en boca, no me interesa el marketing”.

Alex Chávez de Dos Santos tiene una postura intermedia. “No portamos una sola identidad como etiqueta, pero si llevamos nuestras identidades para ser tomadas en cuenta en la actual conversación, tanto por la música como por el panorama cultural y político en el que vivimos. Por eso pienso que [Logos], nuestro disco, es muy oportuno porque representa una declaración dignificada de nuestra estética en un momento donde quienes somos se está devaluando y deshumanizando.”

Dos Santos. Foto de Andrea Falcone

Hay un legado fuerte de aportes latinos a la música de Estados Unidos desde principios del siglo XX, tanto en géneros y movimientos muy reconocidos como el boogaloo, Santana y Fania Records, así como contribuciones importantes al rock, hip-hop y pop. Esta nueva generación, más que otras, conoce bien este legado y lo puede usar a su conveniencia artística.

“Representamos música contemporánea progresiva panamericana que toma nuestras influencias latinoamericanas —nuestra herencia ancestral— así como nuestra experiencia latinx estadounidense. Queremos comunicar una experiencia porque tenemos un sonido y un mensaje, y ese mensaje es tomar espacio bajo nuestros términos” dice Chávez, cuya banda Dos Santos acaba de lanzar Logos a través de la disquera experimental Northern Spy, casa de Arto Lindsay y The Necks. Logos muestra una fusión de punk, improvisación, funk, jazz, cumbia y muchos estilos más a manera tanto orgánica como discordante, logrando un gran trabajo.

Las bandas latinas en Estados Unidos toman una oportunidad importante, tomar sonidos de los diferentes países de donde ellos vienen —inclusive los que se asocian burdamente con nuestra gente— y darles giros frescos y oportunos, reapropiando y mutando hasta crear algo nuevo. Y en el proceso, generando nuevas formas de una identidad que sea flexible y refleje realmente nuestra evolución como sociedad.

Muchos experimentos muestran la aleación de varios géneros en las mismas canciones, mientras que otros prefieren mantener esos guiños de manera sutil. En este segundo campo encontramos a Native Sun, cuyo lineup incluye a dos mexicanos y un colombiano. Su más reciente EP, Songs Born From Love and Hate se concentra más en el lado guitarresco de su natal Nueva York —aquellas noches legendarias de exceso en el CBGB’s y Max’s Kansas City de los años 70— pero su sentido melódico presenta raíces netamente latinas. “La cultura norteamericana no solo es blanca”, dice el vocalista Gómez. “De esta manera, combinamos la música que amamos a nivel subconsciente, las cosas pueden ir de los Rolling Stones a Caetano Veloso”.

Native Sun. Foto original de Rachel Cabitt

Por otro lado, Rozas siente que hay que tener mucha consciencia para que la identidad latina no se confunda. “Hay buenas intenciones cuando elogian al Mac Demarco latino o a la Beyoncé latina, pero al final tratan de alinearse con el estándar norteamericano. No tengo nada en contra de ellos pero debería haber más plataformas para lo original, música que propone una latinidad diferente. Híbridos que nos enseñan cómo las culturas pueden dialogar, tomando formas diferentes e inesperadas”.

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Rozas ha dedicado su vida a la experimentación, estudiando etnomusicología, lanzando grabaciones de arte sonoro bajo su nombre propio nombre y entrándole a la cumbia con La Mecánica Popular, cuyo álbum del 2018, Roza Cruz, fue inspirado por el trabajo de los años 70 de Miles Davis y el dub jamaiquino, para agregar a su habitual mezcla de cumbia, salsa y chicha.

“Me mudé a Estados Unidos cuando tenía siete años y en mi infancia sentí la presión de asimilarme,” recuerda Danny Gómez de Native Sun. “Desde que era pequeño intuía que la sociedad quería que me avergonzara de ser migrante. Conforme fui creciendo ese sentimiento fue desapareciendo y ahora me siento orgulloso de mi cultura. Esto es muy relevante para nosotros porque sentimos que le falta diversidad al rock n' roll”.

Mientras que muchos celebran su dualidad, hay otros que prefieren verlo de otra perspectiva. El vocalista de Dos Santos nos comenta su manera de entender la situación de Estados Unidos. “No hay binario entre ser americano y latinx, nunca no lo ha habido. Estados Unidos es parte de América Latina —cuando piensas en la demografía, la concentración de latinxs en la población de EEUU y el hecho de que un idioma importante de EEUU es el español. Si entendemos esta realidad panamericana, podemos dejar de reforzar la noción cultural de la frontera al punto que también dejemos las falsas narrativas de la autenticidad y la no-autenticidad cultural, lo cual es un mito”.

La Mecánica Popular. Foto vía

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Sin embargo, el alto mando del gobierno estadounidense quiere resaltar las diferencias raciales entre los "estadounidenses" y “los demás,” un argumento reforzado por prejuicios raciales e ignorancia. En momentos donde las comunidades se ven amenazadas, en un estado de protección y supervivencia, el modo de actuar y pensar se va afinando, lo cual puede tomar formas que transforman la pesadilla que viven en algo positivo y mejor.

Para Rozas ha significado un enfoque a librarse de influencias estadounidenses/europeas a la vez de trascender los estereotipos que se pueden tener de la música latina. Para Dos Santos la situación ha inspirado una narrativa en su música donde, a través de personajes ficticios, reimaginan y rebelan ante las fronteras para encontrar puntos de conexión.

“[La situación anti-latina] ha creado mayor solidaridad entre la comunidad artística latina de EEUU,” dice David Pacheco de Tropa Mágica, quienes hace poco lanzaron el sencillo “Koopa Cabras.” “No te voy a mentir, no entraré en detalles pero definitivamente nos ha afectado directamente y ha creado algunos topes en el camino que han amenazado la integridad de nuestra alineación. Pero hemos perseverado”, dice Gómez sobre Native Sun. “Es decir, ¿cómo puedes despertar y ver niños de todos nuestros países ser encerrados en campos y seguir con tu día normal? Toda la atmósfera política del país son un insulto al ánimo diario.”

Una escena musical diversa y con muchas aristas, sin una definición clara, pero en el frente de una batalla simbólica que nos compete a todxs lxs latinxs.