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winter-tospring · 9 months ago

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first impressions from last night, for my records lol written as i went. warning, it's not great tortured poets department: wtf is with all that synth it sounds so bad so high so not on theme wtf is this her voice doesnt sound like it's trying at all it's strolling and so boring; she's just giving us nothing

my boy: this is like if out of the woods production was less good and also didn't fit the theme and lyrics and it just is bAD so bad, like why, it's like a bad imitation that doesn't make sense!!!!!! the drum and synth was nice once and then i'm sorry you actually have to make it coherent not just re-use the same things and patch them together because you have no new fucking ideas !!~!!!!!!!

down bad- she will say she's an alcoholic and she learned how to say fuck so she overuses it like a teenager now, great. matty breaking up with her?? sounds like he did but feels like lies tbh

so long, london- wow finally getting to hear about joe. better match between lyrics and music. better gradation, better buildup, some pretty good lyrics, overall, decent

but daddy i love him- something i would actually support and be hyping if she had come out as bi, or gay, or had stuck with matty, had defended any part about him, had continued dating him longer than she did, had actually dissassociated from her dad, had actually done sonmething rebellious truly. but she reverted back to a fucking footballer her dad picked for her so how fucking bold to release this now when all this energy is gone. the nerve. she should've kept this to herself or release it last summer it's actually UPSETTING that she would release this now when she is in such a picture perfect daddy approved relationship.

fresh out the slammer- uh….okay…undewhelming "taylor, please. do a drug. any drug. and report back. 😞😩"

florida!!!- definitly the best!! florence has the best moments of the album. actually intersting vocals, attitude, style, bocal beauty, and interesting music overall. just want her to sing only, feels like taylor is impeding on florence and i want florence to come back everytime she stops singing. florence actually adds flavor to this, whereas taylor is just...flat and uninteresting??? yikes

guilty as sin?- actually like it!! guitar and drum yes baby. though oh pooor little baby you desire someone else. you are now linking yourself to jesus, you're so guilty but you havent done anything. okay okay but the sound is actually good and i would listen again. the grandiose religious comparisons are a plenty on this album man

i can fix him- taylor you are not grimes. you were not married to elon musk. stop religion, stop it. my god how embarassing this one should not have been public. actually burst out laughing at that last heavy "can't"

loml- thank you for actually telling us something. that was the easiest to get through without interrupting. joe song. good words, good simple ballad.

i can do this with a broken heart- this is funny genuinely, funny, i would hype that, wow

the smallest man who ever lived- the karlie song? want to look more into the lyrics.

the alchemy- ew ew ewterrible badddddddddddd you can't write a good song about football, please stop trying. this is so bad i'm actually so mad please delete this clara bow- so disapointed! i expected more from this one, but it's another ''the lucky one'' or "last american dynasty" etc...nothing new, so it doesn' really compel attention... i listened to who's afraid of little old me last:

who's afraid of little old me?- oh god girl. make this make sense. this is embarrassing, why dont you tell us why you were raised in an asylum and what they did and that instead of throwing oh boohoo me i have it so bad.

this is just her style now, i guess. :|

#we recorded the whole listeneing experience and its like two hours long so that'll be funny to revisit someday x)#ah well #i thought it would be equal to a little better than midnights...........oh boy #this is definitely the worst album for me #main words about this are: embarrassing - boring - unimaginative #i can't really believe but also i can all the signs have been here #it's just that we KNOW she can make good music. but where is the music here??? where #really sad #ttpd #ttpd criticism #tsmtaylor swift #i have so many thoughts

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kimberly-spirits13 · 9 months ago

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My parents are the coolest parents because they’re willing to be lame. Let me explain

Ever since I was little, they’ve always told me if I was uncomfortable somewhere, didn’t want to hang out with someone, or literally anything, I was allowed to throw them under the bus to say they wouldn’t let me or I had to leave. They think it’s so funny to come up with excuses and we usually cycle through a few before coming up with new ones. I have texted them so many times in life or in hushed whispers told them over the phone at a friend’s house to make up some excuse of why I have to leave and it has put me in the position that I know I can always trust my parents.

In the time that they are “lame” because they are parenting me and it’s not just because I want to have a skip free card, they do it for the best reasons and I know they have my best interests. For example- I was NOT allowed to watch Nickelodeon in any sense because they felt the content was disturbing and had intense sexual undertones. Now we know that it all did. They pushed me to cut out certain people in my life as they saw they were evil and toxic. My life improved greatly without them. I wasn’t allowed to have a device until I was old enough to go out on my own with friends and even then, it was under parental control so that I wouldn’t be rotting my brain. In times when we were dirt poor when I was little, they pushed and saved to be able to give me a great education and fuel my interests instead of throwing me in front of a TV and hoping for the best. My parents told me no matter what, if there was a book or some sort of hobby I wanted to explore, they would do their best to support me. The first Christmas I remember, I had started getting into painting and I walked downstairs to find a Mellisa and Doug easel with a paper roll, paint, paint brushes, an apron, and a paint cup. They spent MONTHS saving for it and it still means everything to me as I get older. I grew up with their cartoons and books from their childhoods and a few approved newer ones.

Tonight I told my dad he needed to give me a curfew. We have prom tomorrow and the class wants to have an after party until 1am at a place that’s thirty minutes down the interstate in the middle of nowhere. He told me ten o’clock and I told him that prom didn’t end until then so he pushed it to 11

I love that my parents are willing to be “lame” even at their own expense or even if sometimes, I can’t see that it’s in my best interests until later.

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walaw717 · 1 year ago

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How Leaky Gut, Gary Snyder, Jim Harrison, and Okakura Kazuko Helped Me Rediscover Coffee.

Or, My Dad was a Zen Master, and I Didn’t Notice.

Zen is not some fancy, unique art of living. Our teaching is to live, always in reality, in its exact sense.

Shunryu Suzuki

It began simple enough, well, not that simple. The Traditional Chinese Physician diagnosed my partner with leaky gut syndrome. That sounds terrible, and it was for her. She loved boxed prepared foods and was not fond of vegetables. Time and malnutrition brought on by General Mills, Conagra, and a variety of corporate food chemists had caught up to her, killing the terrarium in her gut so that everything she ate penetrated past the lichen-like lining of her intestines and digestive tract so acid ate at the inner skin like a chemical spill eating the epoxy resin on a high school science class table. This acid wash triggered various autoimmune disorders and led to arthritis, diarrhea, malaise, and general misery for her and those around her. She spent a lot of time in the bathroom, travel was curtailed, and there was general unhappiness all around because the irritation in her gut often seeped out of her vocal cords.

The Physician approached me in the waiting room. At the same time, my partner lay in a private room with needles, restoring her chi into its proper channels and outlining the changes needed in our lifestyle to cure this plague of misery. The doctor told me I also needed to join the new dietary regime to be supportive.

“Well, OK,” I said with outward unfelt enthusiasm.

So we went home and cleaned cabinets, throwing packaged foods away and feeling pangs of guilt — should we throw it away or give it to a shelter? I had visions of homeless people excitedly getting free food that passed as quality and eventually needing a traditional Chinese physician to tell them why they had started crapping so much and with such urgency. I took it to the dumpster, deciding that if they dove for it, it would at least not be the typical garbage they found to eat there that already messed up their guts and energy meridians, contributing to a miserable lifestyle. Their choice would not be my responsibility. I am, after all, an American and well-practiced at ignoring or at least rationalizing my guilt at ecological and cultural destruction. The dumpster became my version of a clear-cut in Oregon. Behind twenty-five yards of pristine natural beauty and unseen from the speeding motorists on the interstates is a desolated waste that can only support the lifestyle of the rich and infamous. To paraphrase an adage from pop psychology, “What we don’t think about, we pretend we don’t bring about.”

And then there was the Mr. Coffee. It sat on the kitchen counter, a yellowing plastic oddly shaped box protectively embracing a clear glass carafe that produced without much effort or thought a dark brown nectar that started our day. It was simple: you pulled out the black plastic cup, lined it with bleached paper, measured several small scoops of coffee, replaced the black plastic cup, filled the box with water, hit the button, and left the room, knowing the watery brown liquor would be ready after the morning shower and shave. Frankly, I was addicted to the tasteless brown water that came out, full of caffeine that gave me a lift but no longer a sweet aroma, depth of flavor or anything but a buzz. The Physician said that they had to go. The little lichen and animal-like bacteria in the gut didn’t like the acid. She equated it with Agent Orange. Being of a certain age, I was more familiar with Agent Orange than I wanted or should be, and I suspect she knew that just by looking at my grey hair. She was playing dirty there, but “Well, OK.”

So Mr. Coffee went somewhere. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to become like stomach acid and create more irritation. To ease the pain, I read an article by a Buddhist who said he quit coffee for six months and felt great but eventually had a cup of the dark roast at Starbucks. He didn’t get a buzz but got jazzed for two days. That didn’t help as I read his article while drinking weak green tea with ginger, waiting for caffeine-induced enlightenment.

As a caffeine junkie and failed Roshi, I needed some relief. Each morning, I scrolled Tumblr’s pictures while drinking my tea and tried to distract myself from the lack of coffee and junk food. Before I went to Tumblr and its processed version of the good life, I had returned to Zazen, you know, meditative sitting, but I was haunted by Buddhist demons carrying Starbucks cups. That was akin to the demons I had seen as a young college student Buddhist “wannabe” reading Alan Watts and D.T. Suzuki, practicing their version of sitting zazen. The forms Mara took in those sittings mostly looked like the red-headed girl I was dating. She would arise in my meditations dancing with her female roommate, both naked dakinis looking beguilingly at me, beckoning me. Needless to say, I never found a Bodhi tree as lovely as Keanu Reeves’ in Little Buddha. I usually went to the red-headed girl’s apartment, leaving my cat to fend for herself for several days. The cat was often irritated with me — the story of my life with females.

Giving up zazen for scrolling Tumblr didn’t help much. There were many beautiful images of landscapes, cityscapes, horses, wildlife, and old trucks and cars. It is a veritable Life magazine online, and being a trained art historian studying reproductions of pictures was right up my alley. There were many images of beguiling dakinis, but more provocatively undressed than those I showed freshmen when I taught art history. As an old man, experienced in the wiles of youthful Dakinis, they looked generally unbeguiling and un-tempting. Sometimes, they wore a plaid flannel shirt tied above the waist, standing next to a campfire, or sitting on the tailgate of a pickup, holding a tin cup of coffee; those got to me — I love plaid, and there was coffee. Even more painfully, there were camping pictures, not just any camping pictures but old percolators on campfires, some with steam coming out of their spouts, some with the cooked brown fluid being poured into cups. As I hit the little heart to acknowledge I liked those images, they appeared more and more frequently. I began to seriously think there were hells, Buddhists and otherwise, and real demons determined to steal my peace.

I was not always addicted to coffee. It all began next to the Seine at a little cafe on the Boulevard Saint-Germain, where I first tasted café au lait. I was a typical 18-year-old 1970s kid backpacking through Europe, and Paris was a first stop. I hated wine and was not too fond of beer, though I drank large quantities with friends at college my first term, and Perrier was breaking my travel budget. One day, I learned that café au lait was mostly milk, and being a farm boy still wedded to the idea that milk was good for me, I downed a cup of café au lait, then another and another. At the end of my first sitting, the waiter counted eight saucers and asked if “Monsieur was feeling okay.” “Sure,” I replied with composure I didn’t feel. I left the café, strolled down the Qui Voltaire, crossed the river on the Pont de la Concorde, hiked through the Tuileries and toured the entire Louvre in 45 minutes flat.

I continued my travels in Europe and tried every type of coffee I could find, settling on Turkish coffee in little cups with big cubes of sugar. In a pinch, I would accept espresso, but by the time I got to Italy, espresso seemed a weak way to live.

Then I returned to America, tried various diner coffees, and wondered why they served browned hot water. By then, Mr. Coffee had replaced percolators and any other form of making coffee all across America. Joe DiMaggio was happy and smiling on every new box containing a coffee maker and heading to an American home.

I tried to make Turkish coffee. Generally, I failed and finally settled on strong home-brewed Mr. Coffee with lots of heavy cream. I would occasionally daydream about camping with my parents and blue-speckled-ware coffee pots on the fire or the aroma of the coffee their electric percolator made as it rhythmically gurgled in the kitchen. It never occurred to me to get an electric percolator because they were, thanks to Mr. Coffee, passe and un-American. I also avoided percolator coffee because I associated it with the odor of my parent’s cigarettes. No matter how good the coffee smelled, I had an aversion to their cigarettes and my parents. Therapy helped me overcome my aversion to my parents but not cigarettes, and the association of stale, burned, chemical-treated tobacco and perked coffee remained.

I felt good after six months of a healthy life, eating right, losing weight, and spending less time on the toilet. I still, however, craved caffeine. I started looking at Mr. Coffee online and realized it was a version of pour-over coffee. So, I bought a plastic two-cup Merlita sit-on-the-cup pour-over device. It was an odd orange-pink affair, but It made a good single cup of coffee, and I discovered that the two-cup size worked just fine to make a single cup of coffee. I understood that a pour-over made better coffee than Mr. Coffee, even though the process was the same. The two-cup pour-over process did require me to pay attention to what I was doing.

This pour-over coffee period came while I re-read Gary Snyder and Jim Harrison, two old Buddhists who were even grouchier than me. They got me rethinking, too, about the practice of the wild and how aggravated I was with General Mills and Conagra and the whole mess of modern American consumerism I allowed myself to get sucked into. I realized I missed camping, hiking, and the smell of coffee perking on an open campfire. I truly missed robust campfire coffee with its flavor and aroma.

I bought an Italian Bialetti Moka pot to remain civilized about my need for aroma. ( I didn’t say I escaped consumerism, just I was aggravated with it.). As I entered the ritual each morning of making coffee in a Moka pot, so strong that I had to serve it in tiny espresso cups to keep the buzz low, I realized that making coffee was really about paying attention, like a Japanese tea ceremony. It took time and required focused measuring of the coffee, packing the funnel, preheating the water, a degree of zazen, listening for the gurgle of the pot and knowing when to take it off the heat so it did not get bitter. I liked the meditation of preparing it. I hated the tiny, over-caffeinated cups. ( My coffee fast had at least broken my addiction to triple-dose caffeine.)

Then we had a cold front, I mean a really cold front that made me wish I had remembered to close the windows the night before, and I had visions of camping, dakinis in plaid flannel shirts, me in plaid flannel shirts, lakes and campfires and a percolator on the fire. It was a memory of connection and loss rolled into one. I was young, and it was a time before Alan Watts and D.T. Suzuki when I knew how to sit, breathe, watch, observe, be present, and smell the coffee with childlike naturalness. So, back to the consumer websites. I scanned a couple dozen percolators. Being aware that I had to make sure I was not as irritating as stomach acid in my choice, I picked a shiny stainless steel eight-cup percolator over the twelve-cup spatterware blue of my encamped youth. Two days later, it arrived and posed gloriously on my stove. Even my partner admitted to its silvery beauty.

I then read internet manuals on how to make the perfect pot of percolator coffee. They all disagreed about the amount of coffee, timing, and type of coffee. Then I remembered my dad, carefully spooning a heaping tablespoon of coffee per 6-ounce cup of water and one for the pot. I remembered how, while he measured his coffee into the basket, the pot would sit on a rock on the fire’s edge and come to a boil. He would gently lower the full basket into the boiling water, place the lid on the pot and move the pot away from the heat, allowing it not to boil vigorously but return to a slow boil so the coffee would not become bitter. And then he would wait, light a cigarette when the water would start its gentle dance in the glass cap of the lid. While he waited, he watched the perking water in the glass knob at the top of the pot without fidgeting or seeming to allow his mind to race away with him. And at the end of his cigarette, after his short version of meditation, he would lift the pot from the fire, place it on another warm but not hot rock, wait again for the basket to finish draining into the pot and remove the basket so the coffee would not become bitter, pour his mug of coffee, and sit again. Still, this sitting involvedwatching the forest and just being. The memory reminded me of Okakura Kazuko’s “Book of Tea,” his extended essay about aesthetics, tea, and Japanese life. As I remembered my Dad by the campfire, I realized Mr. Coffee’s plastic convenience erased coffee’s aesthetic from American life.

I have discovered that Coffee is not just a daily punch line at Starbucks with crazy concoctions snatched by a string of crazier motorists, nor is it the caffeine jazz you get from a neglected Mr. Coffee after a shower and a shave. Making coffee is a meditation, an act of beauty, a reminder of history and a rare act of America behaving in a more civilized way. In the Book of Tea, Kazuko comments, “The Westerner regarded Japan as barbarous while she indulged in the gentle arts of peace and began to call her civilized only when she began to commit wholesale slaughter on the Manchurian battlefields.” I realized that Mr. Coffee not only made barbarous coffee (we won’t even discuss Keurig), but Mr. Coffee was part of our uncivilized behavior toward the entire world, eliminating a small act of spirituality from our racing over-wrought lives.

I now regard the loss of Mr. Coffee not as a loss. It is a spiritual gain. Each morning now, I conduct a ritual. I rinse all my utensils, fill the pot with eight six-ounce measures of clean water, eight heaping tablespoons of freshly ground coffee and one for the pot. I bring the water to a boil, carefully insert the coffee, and place the lid on the pot. I watch until the water rises into the glass knob and then sit, and breathe for eight minutes, the amount of time I think it would have taken Dad to smoke a cigarette. I remove the pot and sit long enough to allow the water to finish draining from the basket, remove the basket and pour coffee into a mug reserved just for coffee, the one with the horses standing in a stream, drinking clear water. And then slowly sip while I sit on my porch, looking at the mountains. When it is cool enough, I wear a plaid flannel shirt and remember a time in my youth watching my father, who had never heard of Alan Watts, D. T. Suzuki, or Zen, sit his version of Zazen drinking his coffee, smoking one of his ever-present cigarettes looking out over a campfire at the lake and being at peace and away from the “chaos of the rat race,” as he defined it.

Maybe being a Roshi is realizing that life itself is Zazen if you slow down and allow it to be. Today, I lifted my cup to a man who was my Roshi that I didn’t notice. I suspect we all have such untitled Zen teachers.

#zen #coffee #camping #percolators #tea ceremony #meditiation #gary snyder #consumerism #capitalism

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qu-film-history-to-1968 · 1 year ago

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Eye Opening Concept of "The Great Dictator" And Chaplins Portrayl as one of the most Notorious Leaders

Dante Calabrese

This week, I saw the Charlie Chaplin film The Great Dictator, which has a lot of anti-Nazi overtones. It also relates to Dorothy B. Jones' book The Hollywood War Film: 1942–1944. In this passage, it is discussed how World War II-era movies portrayed the conflict and the issues they explored. Since not every nation participated in the war, the reading also touches on how the conflict has been misrepresented in movies.

There are numerous examples of anti-Nazi undertones in Charlie Chaplin's 1940 film The Great Dictator. Charlie Chaplin portrays two characters: Adenoid Hynkel, a mocking allusion to Adolf Hitler, and a Jewish barber. The story alternates between the lives of Hynkel and the Barber giving off a two story plot connected into one entire story alone. In the text of the book a quote by Jones, she states “During 1942 and 1943 the quality of home-front stories was consistently low. In most films, such activities were given a comedy treatment.” Another ideal quote from the text emphasising the connection with the film plot very well is “As a whole, they tended to stereotype them as the usual gangster “heavy,” identifiable by the fact that he either “heils Hitler” and speaks with a guttural German accent, or has slant eyes and hisses his “s’s””. Its very intersting the how this quote shows great emphasis and description of how Chaplin's acting and the other supporting cast portray these Nazis acting in the film. What this film does at the end of the day when taking in all of it is that a famous actor Chaplin himself took his artistic skills of turning one of the most horrible and dealiest Genocides by making it into a dark humor comedy as a means to help people digest this horrific realife events but at the same time spinning it into a new twist that the Holocaust had to endure, almost a means of coping with this. While excellent in the role, Chaplin also adds his own brand of humor by essentially making fun of himself. He conveys the idea that the guy he is playing, who is perceived by the Germans to be an all-powerful and idolized person, is actually just a horrible and stupid person by using his facial expressions and even stumbling over his sentences. He takes the oppertunity to mock humiliate Hitler and showing him as fool. Lastly Ironically history would repeat itself with the hollywood film industry with another film taking the same extent of comdey and foolishnes making fun of Hitler was the 2019 film, "JoJo Rabbit" with the director taking on the same role as Chaplin did being Hitler. The story follows as so, Jojo is a lonely German boy who discovers that his single mother is hiding a Jewish girl in their attic. Aided only by his imaginary friend -- Adolf Hitler Jojo must confront his blind nationalism as World War II continues to rage on.

Reference

Jones, Dorothy B. “The Hollywood War Film: 1942-1944.” University of California Press, University of California Press, 1 Oct. 1945, online.ucpress.edu/fq/article-abstract/1/1/1/37212/The-Hollywood-War-Film-1942-1944?redirectedFrom=fulltext.

#submission

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downwiththeficness · 2 years ago

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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Four

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~3600

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

The SUV was cruising at speed down the interstate. It wouldn’t be long before the city fell away and everything around them would be either farmland or swamp. Eva sat in the back seat, staring out the window. Alexei was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other supporting his weight on the middle console. Josh was directly ahead of her. They were all listening to a local music station that occasionally cut out with dry static.

She was bored. Had been since they left the house. Neither Alexei nor Josh were saying anything to her and she didn’t know why they invited her along.

The destination—the lab—was remote, far away from Ardent Pharmaceuticals’ corporate offices. On paper, the building was mostly storage. And, from the outside looking in, that’s exactly what it was. Most people wouldn’t even notice the trap door to the right of the entrance. The stairs beneath led down to a smaller room with all of the most up to date technology for chemical engineering.

It was here that Josh’s real passion in life took place.

Eva might be good at math, but Josh was an absolute genius when it came to pharmaceutical innovation. All of his wealth stemmed from improving drugs that were popular with his clients, skimming past FDA approval by selling them under the table to every doctor and pharmacist in the surrounding area under the guise of ‘samples’. What most of their customer base didn’t know was that Josh’s improvements made what they thought was a standard formula pill into something more addictive with a high that couldn’t be matched by other brands.

It wasn’t as clean an operation as Eva liked. There were plenty of things that could get them caught and this new expansion was definitely one of them. Their distributor for the raw materials was consistent and she hadn’t noticed any shortages as of late. They didn’t need another resource for getting the raw chemicals needed to make Josh’s ‘special blend’. It made Josh’s decision to add another business partner into the mix that much more suspect.

She hadn’t seen him since that disastrous meeting, but every once in a while she would catch his scent as it faded from a room he’d been in. Eva took those opportunities to breathe deeply in an attempt to immunize herself against the feelings that scent evoked. She hoped that their next meeting would go better than the last, that her body wouldn’t betray her again.

Alexei made the turn onto the unnamed road leading to the lab with the comfort of someone who had made that turn over and over. The building rose up into view, looming darkly on the horizon. Eva watched it grow until Alexei pulled the car to a stop in the small parking lot.

Josh got out of the SUV and headed for the door, his keys jingling in his hand. Alexei cut the engine and followed wordlessly. Eva sighed as she opened the door and stepped out, as well. As she shut the door behind her, Eva was glad that she chose flats for the day instead of a pair of heels. There was no telling how long Josh would tinker around in his personal lab and places to sit were few and far between.

Eva was halfway to the door when the sound of tires rolling over asphalt got her attention. She turned and shielded her eyes with her hand as she peered out towards the main road. A sleek, black car hurtled towards them at a speed that was dangerously fast. It swung around in the parking lot, stopping cross ways over three spots not far from the SUV.

Who the fuck parks like that?

From behind her, Alexei approached. Towering over her, he followed Eva’s gaze as two people stood from the car.

“I thought they would have more trouble finding the place,” he murmured.

She almost asked him who they were, but her eyes adjusted to the distance and she no longer had to ask. Mr. Jimenez was sauntering towards them in a leather jacket, black t shirt and flared jeans. His booted feet took their time about crossing the lot, as if he had nowhere else to be.

Behind him, another man was following. He swiped at his mustache, fingers catching a cigarette and flicking it away. A plume of smoke wafted from a mouth that was set into a thin line.

Eva realized that she was staring and dropped her gaze. Blinking rapidly, she turned and went inside. They weren’t here for her, anyway. Glad for the air conditioning that kept their excess raw chemicals stable, she moved to stand a little ways away from the door to the basement. It was open, Josh waiting for no one to get to work.

Alexei’s body darkened the doorway. Their guests followed. None of them spared her a glance before they descended into Josh’s lab. Eva held her breath all the same. When they were gone, she let it out in a loud huff. She could not believe she was still attracted to him when he was dressed like such an asshole.

Now she understood why Bobbi Lynn’s husband referred to him as ‘new money’. Every piece of clothing on his body was designer, probably down to his socks. Add to it the obviously massive ego he carried in every step he took and Mr. Jimenez looked nothing short of gauche.

Underneath the clothes and the attitude and the way he looked down his nose at people was a man that Eva found wholly enthralling. The feeling made her hands clench with the need to curl into his hair. It made her mouth want to purse for a kiss.

Which was fucking ridiculous.

She was an adult. A married woman.

Maybe she got a bad batch from Bobbi Lynn—no, this started before she started taking the newer pills. Maybe she was sick. But, she didn’t feel sick. If anything, Eva felt entirely too healthy. Her body felt stronger. For the first time since she left her childhood home, she slept through the night without waking. Rose from her bed without the hangover of a restless night. Her mind was sharper, moved through decisions and equations effortlessly. And, more than anything, Eva was aware of her surroundings.

It was as if she put on glasses for the first time and the whole world suddenly came into focus. For years, she passed through life barely taking note of anything that wasn’t directly related to her survival. Now, she was doing things like lingering in the shower to feel the heat of the water. Or, putting on music while she cleaned. Just that morning, she actually leaned forward and smell the bouquet of flowers on the dining room table.

Fucking. Ridiculous.

“Eva!”

Josh’s voice startled her from the way she was pacing back and forth in thought. She gasped audibly, body freezing like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Thankfully, Josh wasn’t climbing the stairs to look for her—probably too afraid Mr. Jimenez and his friend would touch one of his precious experiments.

“Eva!” he called again, this time with a touch of impatience.

Steeling herself, she hustled to the door and dropped down onto the stairs. Eva measured her step and let her mouth fall into a pleasant smile as she reached the landing. Folding her hands in front of her, she waited for his orders.

“Mr. Jimenez is making a delivery here in about half and hour,” Josh announced. “He’s brought us a sample to test as a matter of courtesy.”

She refused to look at him, but Eva could feel eyes on her. The room was small, much smaller than the warehouse above. There were two lab tables with various supplies on them sitting on either side of the room. Between the tables stood four men, none of which she trusted.

“I’d like you to do the honors,” Josh prompted, holding up a vial.

In it was a clear liquid that could have been water if it weren’t so thick. Josh held it out to her in offering.

One of the first things Josh allowed her to learn after taking the lead with their books was how to determine the purity of their raw materials. He drilled her over and over, applied pressure with a stopwatch and insults. Eva got it, though, could do it even in her sleep—as proven when he woke her at 2 am, dragged her to the kitchen and made her work in her nightdress.

Eva took the vial from him and pulled on a pair of latex gloves from where they sat on the table. Then, as she practiced, she measured out some of the unknown liquid into a test tube and began to run it through the process.

From her left, the man she didn’t know said something in Spanish. Mr. Jimenez replied, likewise. She guessed that English might be his second language, but hearing him speak in his native tongue made her hands shake. The glass of the tube clinked against a beaker of distilled water. She paused, and forced herself to reset.

All her practice with his scent was clearly not enough. It curled in her nose, nestled in the part of her brain that was tied to sex. In a stunning turn of irony, it occurred to her that she should feel grateful for the way she couldn’t get a handle on her hormones around him. Eva had never enjoyed sex with Josh and never once thought about striking up an affair in order to fulfill the need. All this time, Eva just thought she didn’t have a sex drive.

She was almost happy that she was wrong.

It coiled in her belly, this feeling. Warm and all too pleasant. Every shallow breath brought more heat, more...more. ‘More’ was the only word she could use to describe it. And, ‘more’ was what Eva wanted.

She wished that she could blame it on her status. Poor little omega can’t control her hormones around an alpha. It would be so much easier if that was the case. But, there were no shortages of alphas in Josh’s circle. Hell, Alexei was an alpha. Not a one of them had ever turned her head like the man watching her from his post near the stairs.

He was giving her space, she realized suddenly.

When she entered the basement, Mr. Jimenez was standing next to Josh. Eva’s husband hadn’t moved, was still looking over her shoulder from about three feet away. At some point while she was mixing chemicals at the table, Mr. Jimenez moved as far away as he could while remaining in the room.

Bless him.

Having finished her work, Eva capped the vial and handed it back to Josh, “Its pure enough to work with.”

Josh smiled. An outsider might think he was proud of her. Eva knew better. Josh was proud of himself. He’d found the new resource, he’d vetted them, and it worked out in his favor. Points for Josh.

Turning from Eva, Josh spoke to their new partners, “Looks like we have a deal.”

On cue came the sound of a truck rumbling to a stop in the parking lot. Mr. Jimenez glanced up, smirked, then climbed the stairs. Eva let the men go before her, taking her time getting to the top.

It took an hour to unload the delivery, another twenty minutes for Alexei to ensure that they got the full amount, followed by another five for Josh to quit staring at it. Eva supposed she should have been jealous. He rarely looked at her for half as long and never with that amount of intensity.

Her gaze flicked involuntarily to Mr. Jimenez and she was surprised to find him looking back. His expression was unguarded, the same as it had been on the sidewalk. She found herself caught in it, a heat creeping up her neck. Two, maybe three, seconds passed before he looked away and that stupid little smirk returned.

“Now that business is done, we will celebrate!”

Eva’s brows lifted as she looked to Josh for his response. Her husband tore his attention away from their new stock and fixed Mr. Jimenez with a smile, “Of course. I know just the place.”

She squinted at the back of Josh’s head as she followed him out to the car. Josh regularly went out with his partners, but most of them were fellow businessmen with good standing in the community. Their new partner was a stranger to their town, an unknown. Someone was going to notice that Josh was spending time with him and there would be questions.

Eva was going to say fuck all about it. She knew better than to contradict her husband in public. Or in private, for that matter. Keeping her head down, she walked right to the car, got inside, and waited for Alexei and Josh to join her.

When they did, Alexei looked at Josh and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Josh was all surprise, “What?”

Running a hand down his face, Alexei visibly calmed himself, “There is no reason we should be having drinks with that man.”

“Oh, please,” Josh drawled, “Its just a little get-together after a deal that went well.”

Alexei turned over the engine, “I don’t trust him. He’s shifty.”

“He’s Mexican,” Josh replied, “that’s how they all are. Besides, he’s got connections. Connections that we need.”

Eva stared at the backs of their heads, wondering what the fuck was going on. What didn’t she know about Mr. Jimenez that would make Josh so careless with his reputation?

“We can get it elsewhere,” Alexei said, with feeling.

Josh waved a hand, “I’m not paying the shipping all the way from Europe when I can get it right here in North America.”

Turning her attention to the window, Eva pretended not to listen. All the while, she wondered what it was that Josh was so intent on getting. They had plenty of money, if he needed it. Paying additional for shipping shouldn’t be a barrier.

“You don’t know that he’ll come through with those connections,” Alexei replied lowly.

Again, Josh dismissed his friend, “I had him checked out.”

“So did I,” Alexei retorted, heat in his tone, “The man didn’t exist before five years ago. His records just,” he flexed his hand between them, “poof...disappear.”

Eva held her breath, waiting for Josh to say something. The silence between the two men stretched on and on until she figured the conversation wasn’t going any further. The SUV carried them back into the city and down familiar streets to a jazz club that Josh was fond of. Alexei parked, but didn’t get out of the car.

“I’ll wait here.”

Josh sighed, “Don’t be like that. We’ve had a good day.”

Alexei remained stubbornly silent and Eva knew there would be no budging. She slid from the back seat and closed the door, waiting for Josh to move towards the entrance. He stared at his friend for long seconds, his brows drawn together. Then, with his lip curled, he slammed the door shut and spun on his heel.

The ire in his expression slipped away as Mr. Jimenez met them at the door. Eva kept her distance, saying nothing and drawing as little attention to herself as she could. She probably shouldn’t have bothered. Josh was in a gregarious mood, telling jokes and all of his little charming anecdotes that he used to endear himself to the people around him.

Mr. Jimenez smiled and laughed at all the appropriate times, drank the liquor he was given, remarked on the music and the other patrons. His friend, Javier, was more reserved, but no less engaged with her husband.

Eva was using almost all of her focus to keep her breathing even and her ass in the seat. Sipping the white wine Josh ordered for her was absolutely not helping her to relax. The muscles in her thighs shook beneath the table from where she was pressing her legs together. Heat settled low in her belly. Sweat beaded at her hairline.

Even over the other scents in the room��liquor, smoke, salt—she could smell him. Tobacco and vetiver. The cologne he favored had worn off, leaving behind a scent that was all delicious alpha.

Josh laughed loudly, breaking her away from the day dream of pressing her face into the gland behind his ear. Embarrassed, she drained her wine glass and looked around the room for something to focus on.

A waitress approached and leaned down to speak with Josh, “Sir, there is a call for you at the manager’s desk.”

For the first time in years, Eva wished to God that Josh would stay by her side. He didn’t. Rising, he told the table he would be back shortly and strolled away with the waitress in the lead. To Eva’s utter dismay, Javier muttered something about finding another pack of smokes and left the table, too.

And then they were alone—or, as alone as anyone could be in a room full of people.

She kept her eyes on the tablecloth, counted the threads and thinking that she might benefit from another glass of wine.

“So, you’re called Eva.”

Glancing up was a reflex. Having already begun to look at his face, Eva could not tear her eyes away from him. The mask of arrogance he wore like a second skin once again dissolved away.

“And, you’re called Mr. Jimenez.”

She wouldn’t allow herself to call him by his first name. That kind of familiarity would only lead to disaster. Better to keep him at a distance.

He flinched. Eva clenched her jaw to keep from apologizing for the sarcasm in her tone. She didn’t owe it to him.

Sipping from his glass, he ticked his head to the side, “I’m not going to tell him.”

The heat in her body cooled to razor sharp fear. Quickly, she calculated how much he would have been able to deduce from their limited interactions. Eventually, she concluded that he might know enough to make her life difficult, but it would be a small matter of telling Josh what he wanted to hear to assuage whatever hurt he might be feeling.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Eva replied carefully.

One side of his mouth lifted in a very different kind of smirk than he’d used before, “Of course not.” Then, “How long have you been married?”

Eva shrugged, “A little under seven years.”

His gaze turned assessing, “You’re very young to be married so long.”

She scoffed, “If I weren’t married by my age I’d be considered a spinster, Mr. Jimenez.”

Again, he flinched.

“And you?” Eva asked, her tone polite, “Is there a Mrs. Jimenez I should include in my invites to the ladies’ luncheon?”

She didn’t want to think about why she was asking this question—mostly because the reason was clear as day.

He shook his head, “No, I’m not married.”

To cover her own relief, Eva flagged down a waitress and asked for another glass of wine. When she turned her attention across the table again, Mr. Jimenez was openly staring at her. The air in her lungs got stuck in her windpipe under the intensity of his gaze.

The heat being directed at her felt like it might singe her skin. She took it in, meeting his stare with one of her own. Eva had never been so bold in her entire life and likely never would be again. She might as well enjoy it while she could.

In her periphery, Josh moved through the crowd. Quickly, she dropped her gaze to the tablecloth and tried to relax. He sat with a loud sigh, setting down the glasses he carried in each hand.

“Work never stops,” Josh announced, “Where’s your partner?”

Mr. Jimenez shrugged, “Getting cigarettes, I think. Or, he’s looking for a woman to take home.”

“Ah,” Josh breathed, “I remember those days. They’re all behind me now.” He put his arm around Eva’s shoulders, “Got the old ball and chain to weigh me down.”

Brows lifting, Mr. Jimenez replied, “You told me, yourself, that she does a remarkable job with your books. Where I come from, that’s an asset you don’t take lightly.”

Her husband was either too drunk or in too good a mood to notice the censure in Mr. Jimenez’s voice. Eva couldn’t so easily dismiss it. Two compliments. Both given with what appeared to be sincerity. And, in front of other people. It made her want to know what he would say to her in private.

They didn’t stay much longer after that. Josh had work in the morning and he didn’t like to miss his early appointments. Mr. Jimenez said his goodbyes and drove away with what seemed like little care for the fact that his partner hadn’t returned. Josh ignored the way Alexei stared him down as he headed for the car.

Eva, for her part, got in the car and leaned back in the seat with her eyes closed. The whole way home, she memorized the warmth in Mr. Jimenez’s eyes as he spoke with her. It was so different than the cool indifference he cloaked himself with in every other interaction. She didn’t like how intrigued she was by him. Didn’t like that she wanted to dig underneath his skin to find out who he really was.

After they parked in the driveway, Eva stepped out of the car and walked into the house. By the time she got to her bedroom, Eva made the decision that she shouldn’t talk with him anymore. By the time she lay her head on her pillow, she changed her mind.

#Shadow and Veil #narcos #maurice compte #horacio carrillo #carrillo #AU #a/b/o dynamics

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sapphireblondie · 2 years ago

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Surprise!

“Come on y/n.. Everyone is going to be there. Including your old crush.” Your face turned red “I don’t know, won’t it be all heroes?” Toga smiled “So?” It’s not like they know you, and I can disguise myself.” You sighed. “What’s wrong y/n. I think crashing a hero party sounds like a great idea!” “You turned to see Dabi standing beside Toga. You roll your eyes, “we’re not crashing a party.” Toga echoed in laughter “Fine we won’t crash it, but let’s just check it out.

As the three of you walked up the shore front, you could see heroes everywhere throughout the beach shore and house. Everyone was there, Red Riot, Chargebolt, Deku, All Might, Shoto, Uravity, Hawks, Aizawa, and so many other. Glares were exchanged as you made your way down to the beach. Toga had changed her look to a random citizen but everyone knew Dabi’s look and it wasn’t like he was shy. “What are you doing here?” You turned around to see Shoto. You opened your mouth to speak “What’s wrong baby brother, don’t like the idea of big bro coming to say hi.” You elbowed Dabi “You said we weren’t crashing!” He smiled “No, Toga said we weren’t crashing.” You glared at him in frustration. “Leave now, all of you.” Your face turned crimson as the embarrassment set in. You grabbed Toga and Dabi and began directing them away from the party. “I told you this was a bad idea.” You walked down the beach to an empty area a ways away from the party, you could still hear the music and see the flicker of the fire on the beach but that was it. Toga and Dabi decided to head back home to start their next heist planning but you wanted to hang out on the beach for a bit. It was a nice night and the stars were gorgeous. “You look lonely?” You heard a chuckle from above where you were laying. “Just enjoying the night.” The man sat down next to you “I’m sorry they kicked you out with the other guys, just cause you don’t have a quirk doesn’t mean you’re a villain.” You paused for a moment “How do you know I don’t have a quirk?” The man laughed “Cause you didn’t pose a threat which either meant you were quirkless or harmless.” You sat up and looked over “You’re Deku right?” Deku giggled “Yeah, I wanted to see if you wanted to come back to the party, I think you’ll get along with alot of us.” You smiled “Thanks, but I prefer not to be a party crasher.” Deku laughed and stood up holding out his hand “Come on, you’ll be fine if I take you.”

As Deku and you made it back to the party, a couple heroes glared but most of them looked more surprised “Deku? Why is she back here? I thought she was with Dabi and his girlfriend.” Deku tightened his grip on your hand “She didn’t go to U.A. cause I believe she’s quirkless, so she wasn’t introduced to any of us for her to have a chance at being friends with us. So Uraraka I think we should give her a fair chance. She’s met the villains and they accepted her, why can’t you do the same?” Uraraka’s face turned red and you could see her anger and jealousy grow. Deku looked at you “So are you quirkless?” You shook your head and whispered “No, I can hear what they are thinking. Uraraka thinks I’m deceiving you and that you're being naive. Shoto doesn’t trust me because I came here with his brother Dabi, and Dabi is never up to anything good, so he thinks I was sent here by Dabi. Hawks is open minded but watching me. His exact words were “Not everyone who associates themselves with Dabi is bad, look at twice, he wasn’t a bad guy, he just trusted bad people.” Deku smiled “So you aren’t quirkless?” You smiled “I just don’t have a support quirk or a hero quirk, so I was better off being in just normal school with quirkless people.” Deku smiled “But you could hear everyone’s thoughts? Wouldn’t that be loud?” You smiled “No, it isn’t like I just hear random voices, I have to focus on that person, then I can hear what they are thinking. Like you “You’ve been thinking that I remind you of when you were quirkless. But you’re intersted-” Deku shifted “Bakugou! I was wondering when you were gonna appear.” Bakugou looked down noticing you avoiding eye contact “Who’s the shrimp?” Your face reddened “My name is y/n” Bakugou chuckled “Oh, I don’t remember you from U.A..” Deku glared at Bakugou “That’s cause she doesn’t have a quirk so she didn’t attend U.A.” A smile crept across Bakugou’s face “Aww so you’re quirkless.” You looked up at Bakugou’s ruby eyes and were ambushed by his melted caramel scent. “She’s cute, it’s no wonder why Dabi kept her close over the years.” You giggled as you looked away from Bakugou “What? Did I say something funny?” You shook your head no as Deku leaned down “You shouldn’t read his mind without him knowing, he’s a touchy temper.” You smiled “He thinks I’m cute...” Deku chuckled “What’s so funny Izuku?” Deku smiled “Nothing, she was just saying how she’d like to get to know you so if you wanna show her around.” You glared at Deku “Are you kidding me!” Deku didn’t need to use his voice, you could hear his thoughts loud and clear “Oh stop, you’ll have plenty of fun, plus I seen how you looked at him when you first seen him.. I’m not stupid.” Bakugou held his hand out for you to take “I’ll show you where the bathroom is and where you can grab a drink if you want one.” You placed your hand in his and nodded “OK..”

As Bakugou led you through the house, you could hear thoughts flood in as your eyes sifted through the glares. “Who is she?” And “why is she with Bakugou?” You looked at the floor to collect yourself from the judgement. A warm callused hand touched your face as you heard Bakugou say “Their glares are meaningless, just ignore them. It’s my party and I want you here so.” You look at Bakugou as his beautiful ruby eyes stare into your eyes. “Fuck, I sound like a complete dumbass. Well no chance in seeing her again after this shit party.” You smiled as you broke eyes contact “It’s not a shit party and you’re not a dumbass.” Bakugou tilted his head in confusion “how did you know that? You aren’t quirkless are you?” Your face reddened as you pulled your hand from his. He set off a small explosion in his hand which immediately shifted your attention back to him. He stared at you with silence using his thoughts to speak for him “you can hear me this way cant you?” You nodded “Yes..I-” Bakugou grabbed your hand and directed you through the house and back out to the beach front. “Bakugou where are we going?” Bakugou smiled “I wanna know more.” As the two of you made it down to the water away from the party, he stood only inches from your face. “Does Deku know?” “Yes” “What about the villains?” “Some of them.” Bakugou feel silent almost like he was looking for his next question as he stared out in to the open ocean. Your eyes scanned across the water before making their way back to Bakugou who sat in silence.. yet his mind wasn’t anywhere near quiet. “Has she always been this beautiful?” I don’t understand if she had a quirk, she should of been able to get into the university. would she reject me if I tried to kiss her?” Bakugou shifted his attention back to you as you looked back to the ocean trying not to show that you heard everything. “Uh, how much of that did you hear?” You laughed nervously “uh- hear what? I didn’t hear anything.” Bakugou laughed “Oh, yeah? So if I just happened to grab here” Bakugou placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards him. “And my other hand here” His callused warm hand grazed your cheek. “And I don’t know, did this.” Bakugou’s warm soft lips pressed against yours as a buzzing sensation was sent through your body. You melted in his grasp as he pulled away just enough to speak “You didn’t know that I wanted to do that?” You giggled throwing your arms around his neck “Nope” Bakugou chuckled as he pulled you tight to his body. Your tongue grazed his bottom lip and he was more them happy to let his dance with yours. You pulled away smiling. Bakugou smirked “So does your quirk work on it’s own or do you have to use it.” You looked away “If I focus on someone too long, it does it on it’s own. I usually ignore them.” Bakugou lets you go and sat on the beach sand. As you look down he put his hand out “Come here” You smiled and took his hand as he directed you to sit on his lap. As you sat down and you boobs met his face, he pulled you into him smothering his face into your beautifully bouncy breast. Bakugou let out a loud exhale as you looked down at him “I could definitely do this everyday.” You let out a giggle as you rested your cheek on the top of his head. He pulled away “It’s not nice to listen to my thoughts when I’m not aware of it.” You giggled “Sorry but I like knowing what your mind thinks of me.” Bakugou pulled back “Then just ask. I think your sexy as fuck and beautiful and I wanna-” “Hey, Bakubro- Oh sorry, we wanted to make sure-” Bakugou lifted you off his lap and put you next to him “What the hell shitty hair? Really you brought the entire class 1-A?” Deku stepped forward “I tried to tell them I didn’t sense a threat from her so there was no reason to worry.” You stood up and walked towards the water. “Hey? where-” Deku yelled after you. You turned around “It seems like I’m unwanted here, so I’ll take my lea-” A loud explosion went off “The fuck you will! Look guys I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle a shrimp like her.” Shoto went to speak as Hawks dropped in “Shoto, I understand your concern but not every one who associates themselves with Dabi is bad. I think you should give... Where’d she go?” Bakugou turned around to find you no where to be found.” Bakugou turned towards everyone “Damn it!” Deku walked towards the water “She was just there, she couldn’t of gotten far.” Uraraka growled “See I told you, she shouldn’t be-” Deku turned around “Leave!” Uraraka’s face turned red. “Deku, I think she-” “Mina don’t or you can leave too.” Mina grew flustered as she walked towards Uraraka “Why are you protecting her so much! Why do you care?” Deku turned around furious as he walked towards the water “Because I know what it’s like to want to be accepted and want to fit in! I know what it’s like to be the outsider! To be the one who’s quirkless! NOW LEAVE BOTH OF YOU! Mina and Uraraka walked back towards the house “Anyone else who doesn’t wanna take Bakugou’s feelings into consideration about y/n can leave as well. Shoto, Kirishima, Denki?” Bakugou looked at Deku “Thanks..” Kirishima shook his head, “No, if Bakugou trusts her, I trust him.” Iida, shoto, and denki nodded agreeing with Kirishima. “Then lets find her.”

As you swam out as far as your body could take you, you floated staring at the star. “Y/N!!” You could hear a faint voice yelling for you. “Y/N!!” A few different voices. The water grew cold and you were losing feeling to your feet, you were also growing tired. “I just wanna sleep.” Y/N! she cant be out here much longer the water will get too cold, icy hot, you think you can heat-” “Not without knowing the direction she’s in. It would take too long to heat the entire area.” “DAMN IT!” Bakugou set of multiple explosions sending him into the air as he scanned for you.” The water grew colder as you became more tired. “Stay awake.” You felt your body begin to slow down and stop responding. “There you are.” You feel warm hands touch your body, but can’t see who it was. Then you hear a familiar giggle. “Toga?” Toga smiles “out to be drowned today are we?” Shoto noticed a bright blue flame down the beach in the water walking towards the shore. “Bakugou!” Bakugou turned towards the direction shoto was pointing “No... they came back for her..” Kirishima turned towards Deku “You think she’s gonna go with them?” Deku nodded “By this time with how cold the water is, she’s probably going in and out of consciousness, so yes. I think they will take her and even if she is slightly conscious, they accepted her, and didn’t doubt her. So yes, I think we’re about to lose her.” Bakugou growled “Not if I have something to say about it!” Deku grabbed Bakugou’s arm “Don’t, it’ll start a war and she needs medical attention soon. She won’t make it if we fight them now. Let them take her for now, get the help she needs, we’ll follow her, and wait and that’s if she doesn't come find you first.” A truck pulled up next to the blue flame on the beach and Bakugou watched as they put you in the back with Dabi and Toga climbed in the front seat. “Where Katsuki?” Dabi echoed in amusement “Back at the beach, we have to get you back to the house. Toga has blood back at the house that is at a temp that will bring your body temp back. “You’re warm Dabi? His face reddened “Just do me a favor, dont die.. you’re useful.” You looked up at Dabi “Why do I give a shit.. Why did I get so worried when her tracker showed her heart rate dropping.. I’m not supposed to give a fuck, she’s supposed to be a tool.” You smile and turn your head as you drift off to sleep.

“Dabi. She’s stabilized and ok she just needs to rest.” Dabi smiled “Good then the plan is still in motion. Once she gets close to Bakugou, He will be be easy to crush.” Toga smiles walking up to Dabi “Your so smart Dabi!!” How’d you know he’d fall for her..” Dabi looked up at his hand as he mumbled “Cause if I fell for her, he will too.” Toga growled “Why do you like her so much “her quirk is useless, the only reason we recruited her was -” “Get off me Toga! My feelings for her as a person are irrelevant to this mission and you.” Toga dropped to the floor as Dabi shoved her off the edge of the couch.

You woke up and noticed a familiar smell “You looked over and there stood Hawks and Bakugou” You sat up urgently “What are you doing here?! You need to leave, I heard Dabi say they have a tracker on me, it gives my location and vitals, that’s how they knew I was in trouble.” Bakugou covered your mouth “SHHH! they don’t know were-” The door opened and Dabi let out a malicious laugh. “See I knew if we took her to an open location where you could find her, you’d come. And you’d be dumb enough to come, well almost alone.” “Bakugou, leave.” You stated trying to get up.” Hawks walked over and picked you up “Were leaving.” Dabi smiled “Yeah, I don’t think you are.” Bakugou stood between Hawks and Dabi “Well I do.” Bakugou let off multiple explosions forcing Dabi back as some of the ceiling came crashing down “Hawks go!” Hawks flew through the hole Bakugou created as you screamed trying to fight your way out of his grasp “Don’t leave him there, that was their plan the entire time, I heard them on the way home, they’re using me to-” “Stop y/n, I didn’t leave him, I’m simply passing you off and then we’ll go back. Iida and Shoto are about 3 miles the other away waiting for you and then Deku, myself and Aizawa are going back to help Bakugou. You sighed “Please bring him back in one piece.” Hawks smiled as he landed placing you on your feet “Iida take her back to U.A.. Have Recovery girl check over her.” Iida nodded as Shoto started the car “Please watch your head.” shoto smiled as he opened the car door. You sighed “ok.” “y/n” You turned around “He’ll meet you at UA before sunrise, I guarantee it.” You smiled at Deku as he and Hawks and Aizawa took off into the city

As you reached U.A., recovery girl met you at the door. “She looks like she has been treated fairly well.. wait? I thought you said you were bringing me a quirkless girl? She isn’t quirkless at all.” Shoto and Iida step back from you “You lied?” You sighed “No, I just don’t talk about my quirk, it’s rather useless.” Shoto looked at you “What is your quirk?” You sighed “I can hear what’s unspoken by the mouth yet spoken in the mind.” Iida smiled “You can hear our thoughts. That’s why you felt so uncomfortable at the party, even though we said nothing, you could hear it all.” You nodded “Yes. Deku and Bakugou were the only ones that didn’t want me to leave and that were willing to give me a chance. well Hawks too.” Recovery girl stepped forward “Either way, let me take you in and do a full evaluation.” “Can you remove the tracker they implanted in me?” Recovery girl smiled “Of course y/n.” The three of you made your way to a room and recovery girl checked you over. “She will be fine, her body temperature has already returned to average and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage. She should take it easy after removing the tracker my quirk helps speed up the healing process not heal it immediately” You sat up off the bed “Good then lets go help Bakugou, he doesn’t know what he’s up against. Dabi is out for blood and Bakugou-” The door open “Bakugou what?” Bakugou stood in the doorway smiling as blood ran down the side of his face. “Are you insane! Where’s Deku and Hawks and-” “We’re all fine, The rest of them stood in the hallway behind Bakugou. You jumped off the bed and ran to Deku “You’re ok!!” Deku laughed wrapping his arms around you. “I wasn’t expecting to get the first hug.” Aizawa and Hawks chuckled. Bakugou growled “What am I dog-” You let go of Deku and threw yourself into Bakugou pressing your lips against his stopping his statement midway. Bakugou’s face became reddened as he was caught off guard. Aizawa and everyone else bellowed in laughter at Bakugou as he wrapped his arms around you. As you pulled away and smiled you spoke softly “Now can we get those cuts looked at, I’m sure everyone has some we need to check out.”

#bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #dabi my hero academia #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n

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ausetkmt · 2 years ago

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As the state of Tennessee uses eminent domain to take over land to connect a new multi-billon dollar Ford plant to the interstate, Black farmers say the government is offering them a fraction of what their land is worth.

A year ago, Ford Motor Company broke ground on a $5.6 billion electric truck plant in a rural region of Tennessee full of African American farmers, according to Tennessee Lookout. While the investment has brought economic prosperity to the area, Tennessee government officials have moved to threaten Black towns and financially bulldoze over land that has been in Black families for generations.

Now, the Tennessee Department of Transportation is attempting to use eminent domain to take over Black farmers’ land while offering them a fraction of what their land is worth.

“It’s not the first time we’ve had to fight,” Marvin Sanderlin, a longtime farmer in Haywood County with 400 acres of land told Tennessee Lookout.

The recent developments come a year after a Tennessee Comptroller told Black residents of Mason to remove their Black elected officials from office. It also comes during the fallout over Tennessee House Republicans expelling two members of the Tennessee Three after the lawmakers protested for gun safety legislation on the House floor.

Black farmers fight for fair deal in state land grab

Marvin Sanderlin is no stranger to fighting against the state to maintain ownership of his land. Local accounts highlight how his great-great grandmother, an enslaved woman, successfully sued to ensure her children inherited a portion of land from their slave-owning father.

The state has taken Sanderlin to court for 10 acres of his property as it lies in the path of the planned roadway that would connect the Ford plant to the interstate.

Sanderlin says the state is offering him only $3,750 per acre.

“That’s unheard of,” Sanderlin said. “You can’t buy no land here for $3,500 an acre. You can’t buy a swamp here for $3,500” Sanderlin said. “I told them this is the biggest ripoff there is. They want your land, but they don’t want you to participate in the wealth.”

The proposed construction would run through Black-owned land in Tipton, Haywood and Fayette Counties.

Some Black farmers and land owners have joined together and, along with the NAACP, plan to fight back.

The fight comes as Black farmers around the nation continue to criticize the Biden Administration for its failure to secure targeted investment for them in the federal farm bill, despite Black farmers suffering long-time discrimination in federal funding.

Investment on the backs of Black farmers?

The Ford plant is expected to add 6,000 direct jobs and nearly 25,000 indirect jobs to the region.

“With the single largest investment in state history, this historic project brings thousands of jobs and new opportunities for Tennessee families to thrive,” Gov. Bill Lee said last month.

Yet Black farmers who own land along the proposed roadway’s path say the economic prosperity arriving in the region shouldn’t come at the cost of their land.

Ray Jones is a retired school teacher who runs the Boys and Girls Club of Brownsville. The state is offering him just over $8,000 for an acre of his land.

Jones said he supports the Ford investment, but he blames TDOT for their attempt to hustle him off his land.

“All the people are benefiting from BlueOval and that’s good. We are 100% in support of BlueOval. Make sure you quote me on that. But then you want to take my spring and give me pennies on it? It’s an unreasonable situation,” Jones said.

Rosa Whitmore, 82, owns a home that was built on land where her grandparents picked cotton. She says the state didn’t inform her of their interest in her land until late last month. They’re also offering her just $8,000 per acre.

“I worked with my own two hands up at 6 a.m. going to work in the field under the hot sun. That’s what we had to do to own this land,” Whitmore said.

#Black Farmers #Tennessee #white supremacy #white racism #Black Farms Matter #Black farmers say Tennessee trying to hustle them off their land #FDA #Dept of Agriculture #imminent domain #land theft #ford motor company #blueoval #Share Croppers #Reparations

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your-local-uwu-artist · 2 months ago

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SEASON 9 TAKEAWAYS

-LOVE that the firstbourne uses she/they pronouns. icon

-so uhhhh remember this post?

turns out I wasn't kidding!

-anyway, theres this thing i noticed back in season 2 that hasn't become relavant sense then that i never mentioned. that being that I love the color contrast between Llyod and Garmadon. this may just be a me thing but i've always felt like green and purple are like... honorary complimentary colors. if that makes litterally any sense

-Llyods whole regaining his powers thing was great! i reallY! loved how Nya was such a big sister to him this season

-Faith and Jet Jack should Kiss

-garmadon was WAY more intersting then I thought he would be. he seemed to have this offness to him from the whole 'came back wrong' trope he had going on. I LOVED that he was actually upset when Harumi Died(?) speaking of WHICH

-HARUMI god what a poor little meow meow. her last minute redemption really did it for me. OBVIOUSLY i need to bring up my crossover ship with her and kanao again (PLEASEi am BEGGING someone join me) but anyway! there was that talk earlier when she talking about 'wearing a mask' and putting on a persona. and I feel like her post-reveal self was just as much a persona as her princess self. I feel like Harumi doesn't really know who the real her is. and part of why she turned to evil was in a desperate attempt to regain her identity that she lost with her childhood innocence. god what a poor little meow moew. what a fucking meow moew. i hope we see her again.

-ummmm I guess thats all from the top of me head? loved dareth getting to be dareth. the Pixel Zane reunion at the end was adorable. I was dellightfully suprised when Ronin was shown getting arrested. the idea that he was not just supporting the resistance but doing so openly enough for that. It shows some MAJOR character development from him.

-anyway yeah 10/10 season :3 probably one of the best finales so far also

#watching the ninja go

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memorylanediaries · 7 months ago

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Interview- Past Career Experiences

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Good Afternoon Mr HArrelson, how are you doing today? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Hi Ms Scott, thank you for having me today, how are you doing?

Ms Scott (Interviewer): I'm doing okay. Alright, so Ill be asking you ten questions for this interview, surrounding your past career, Is that okay? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Yes thats fine

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay, What was your favorite part about working at Jamaica Hospital Supplies? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Well, my favorite part about my job back at Jamaica Hospital supplies was mostly the daily traveling around the country and getting to meet new people in the various medical fields.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay sounds great, Can you tell me about a typical day in your role as a warehouse associate? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): My day in day out role at as a warehouse associate varies, because some days you are in house and some days you’re out on the road getting work done, basically.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay great. What were some of your responsibilities and tasks in that position? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): So days when I’m in, I mainly keep the warehouse organized and deal with in house orders for customers and assist other staff when necessary, as in ensure that inventory is updated and shelves are replenished.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Alright next question. How did you like the company culture and working environment? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee):Well, to be honest, the company had a bit of a old school culture that you had to adapt to and the environment was pretty small, so most times I like being out on the road getting stuff done.

Ms Scott (Interviewer):Okay, what did you accomplish that you're most proud of? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Well, I learnt a lot in the few months while on my tenure, I get to accomplish the goals of getting to understanding how a few complex medical machines operated such as a life support machine, for example.

Ms Scott (Interviewer):Okay, intersting. How did your role contribute to the team or organization's goals? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Well, I made a few contributions in specific areas where my ideas were highlighted in the sense of updating the old school culture and ways of operating so goals could be better achieved.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay, What were some challenges you faced, and how did you overcome them? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Mmmm, some challenges were the working conditions, it was pretty hot on a day to day to day basis, it was something that could be overcome once you’re in house so I always took the option of going out to get work done basically.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay, how did you like working with your colleagues and supervisor? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Regardless of the challenges, I was working with a very small and efficient team and a great supervisor with good rapport and communication skills.

Ms Scott (Interviewer):Okay, What skills or experiences did you gain that have been helpful in your career that you have now? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): I’m grateful for my time and experience at Jamaica Hospital supplies because I learned a lot on a practical level and how to manage in way necessary to get work done efficiently which helped to boost my warehouse career from there.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Okay, final question, Why did you decide to leave the company, and what does your career look like presently? Mr Harrelson (Interviewee):I decided to leave company because I was seeking better options in the sense of experience level and also on a financial path.. Well, my career has grown since the departure because now I’m a warehouse Supervisor on a much larger scale for a group of powerhouse bottling companies.

Ms Scott (Interviewer): Well Mr Harrelson, thank you so much for coming today. Mr Harrelson (Interviewee): Alright, and thank you for having me here today Ms Scott.

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moremusic · 10 months ago

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This weeks guests sounds like Pink Floyd, the Doors and a bit of Hendrix. I have been a fan since I first heard them on Spotify, and I hope to see them live soon. Here is Emmett from Maisie.

Tell us a little bit about Maisie? Members, how did you get together etc?

The beginnings of Maisie goes back around 6 years ago after I had started a deep dive into the psychedelic music realm (Think Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Tame Impala and early Psychedelic Pxrn Crumpets). Since the bands creation I’ve been the main driver of the project and because of that has seen a number of changes over the years, with the band still being inspired by psychedelia, blues and rock n roll but now we are very groove and energy focused taking huge influence from the funk and soul. These changes have been a result of the growth and development of my personal perspective and connection to the expression of music, performing and song writing over the years and as well shifts in members to really embody the same feelings and passion.

What are you short and long terms goals?

The short term focus right now is to finish our first full length LP and to be able to express and capture that in a cohesive manner. Along side the album our short term goals are to expand our audience and focus on breaking out of Adelaide and playing more interstate shows.

The Long Term goal is to be able to take our expression and passion that is within our performance and share that with the world and inspire as many people as possible, a big long term goal is international touring and playing festivals, taking our music to the US and to Europe!

What is your career highlight so far?

Honestly career highlight is just having people sing the lyrics to a song that we wrote back to us before we can even get to it. We’ve supported a band from the US (Earthless) and a few of our fave interstate bands but the moments of connection, mentioned above, is what we do it for.

Your song “Hot Juice” is my personal favourite of yours. What is the inspiration behind it?

Hot Juice is a funny one, the origins of this one came around the time I was going through a big Parliament/Funkadelic phase and so when some really stupid lyrics just slipped out telling the story of a raunchy 70s pool cleaner and a love affair with a car we just had to roll with it. Conceptually and Lyrically with the car theme I took great inspiration from my favourite Van Halen tracks, “Panama” and David Lee Roth’s use of cheeky car metaphors.

Have you got any new music coming out? Or are you still recording?

We are still in a bit of a recording phase for the majority of the album but we have just announced our next single, “Sugar for Dinner” is due for release on April 11. It’ll be the very first single that was written and performed by the current members of the band.

The whole band is super excited about this one, as it took us a long time to get the vision the way we wanted it, but personally I am incredibly eager to have it out in the world because I absolutely love and adore everyone in the band and it feels like we have made something special together and is the most cohesive piece of music I’ve ever been a part of.

Who are the greatest influences on you? Individually and as a band?

Individually I would say, as an artist and guitarist Jimi Hendrix is probably the biggest one, The Beatles, Khruangbin, Tame Impala and David Gilmour of Pink Floyd and Marvin Gaye are big in there too all of those artist never stopped exploring, growing and trying new things which to me is the most important part of life let alone music.

As a performer I am greatly influenced by Michael Hutchence of INXS the way he could charm and take control of a crowd is something I admire and think is one of the rarest things and another big mention is David Byrne from the Talking Heads and I think that can speak for itself.

As a band theres a huge mix bag of influences similar to the likes of Funkadelic, Yussef Dayes, Santana, Led Zeppelin, Creed and the Doors.

What are your opinions of the Adelaide music scene?

I think the Adelaide music scene is super fun and diverse, I’ve seen some extraordinary bands over the years, I honestly don’t think it gets the recognition it deserves both within and outside of South Australia, I feel bigger Aussie music media outlets don’t give enough credit to the raw, exciting sounds that are coming out of Adelaide. A few of my fave Adelaide artists include the Empty Threats, Coldwave, Sons Of Zoku and The Hazys.

Favourite Adelaide venue to play?

At the moment it’s probably the Cranker, just feels like home, it’s sweaty, it’s crowded.

If you could invite 4 musicians to dinner dead or alive) who would you invite?

I swear my answer changes every time but I always have Jeff Buckley on there alongside Jimi Hendrix, Marvin Gaye and Jack White. I feel as through there would plenty of good convos w those guys.

Any gigs coming up you want to promote?

We’re Playing March 16 on the Gov main stage which is a great, iconic room and the big one is our “sugar for Dinner” single launch on April 20 at the Queens theatre which we have a few surprised in store!!

Gibson or Fender? What gear do you play?

I’m definitely more of a Fender man, guitar wise I mainly switch between my Fender US strat or my Rickenbacker.

If you were given the chance to support one artist in the world, who would you pick?

Right now, it’d be Tame Impala, one of my biggest inspirations over the years. but I’ve also heard that George Clinton and the Parliament-Funkadelic are touring at the moment, I wouldn’t say no to that!

Dream festival line up?

It’d have to be something like Coachella haha

If you were stuck on a deserted island with only one record, what would it be?

Probably The Universe Smile Upon You by Khruangbin

Where can people find out more about you?

via our socials - we’re most active on instagram

and you can find links to our music and upcoming shows here (including our Sugar for Dinner Launch show on Saturday April 20): https://linktr.ee/maisieband_

#Spotify

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bartoszbeda · 10 months ago

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My Art, My Paintings - Buy Original Art From My Store!

Do You Buy Original Art? My Art - My Paintings!

You are visiting this page because you are looking to buy original art. That is so great! I am an artist, and I have original art available to browse. Limited Editions, Art Books, Original Artworks, Subscriptions, Serial Paintings You buy original art not just to decorate a wall, but to inspire to look at life differently. Don't stress about matching colors with the color of the wall. Just buy the artwork you like, and it will stimulate your brain. By visiting my store and buying art from the artist as myself will directly support my creative process. It maybe sounds silly, but by buying art and owning art, you increase your dopamine, and it will positively affect your environment. My paintings are handmade, and you buy artwork that represents years of practice and experience. Curate your collection of art choices that express you or let you discover new horizons. Buy original art for its uniqueness. Be the inspiration for others by buying art from artists.

You Don't Know Me - That's OK!

I was born in Poland in 1984. In 2008, I relocated to the UK to study at the Manchester School of Art. After graduating in 2012 with a BA and MA in Fine Art, I was selected for the 2012 Catlin Art Guide as the most promising emerging artist in the UK. Shortly after I was short-listed for the Title Art Prize, the Door Prize, and I was selected for The Saatchi New Sensations 2012, group exhibition in London for most exciting graduate students in the UK. Check my Wikipedia Page for more information and links. I also won the esteemed Towry Award for the Best of the North of England 2012, and I was a finalist for the Williams Drawing Prize inConnecticut, the USA in 2014. In 2014 I won second place in the Viewpoints competition at the Aljira, Center for Contemporary Art in New Jersey, USA. In 2017, I won first place for Interstate Group Exhibition, CWU Sarah Spurgeon Gallery, Ellensburg, WA, USA.

Why Should You Buy Original Art From Bartosz Beda?

Hmm! I was awarded a six-month scholarship from Manchester Metropolitan University to attend the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden, Germany in 2012/13. The same academy where Gerhard Richter was studying. Moreover, I received a fellowship from Fondazione per' l Arte, Rome, Italy, in 2016. In 2018, Bartosz Beda was awarded a fellowship residency at Goggle, Center for the Arts in Reading, PA. In 2018, I spent three months at GoggleWorks Center for the Arts for artist-in-residency working on new paintings and Project $7.25 that received full attention in Reading. PA. Check the project here. That is another reason why you should buy original art. In 2019, I worked on the Meta Tag Project, that you can find here.

National and International Credibility!

I have participated in group shows, including Microarte. El tamano si importa, Galeria Liebre, Madrid, Spain, 2012; Schools of Art. Voll.3, Oktogon der HfBK, Dresden, Germany, 2013; Petty Theft, Launch f18, New York, USA, 2013; ING Eye Exhibition, Mall Galleries, London, UK, 2015 and At the Surface, Foundry Art Center, St. Charles, MO, 2018. Beda had solo exhibitions at Galleria Liebre, Spain (2013), BAC Gallery, Colombia (2015), Jackson-Teed, England (2016), Rosemary Duffy Larson Gallery, USA (2017), Mildred M.Cox Gallery, USA (2018), Brownsville Museum, USA (2019), Hopkins Center for the Arts USA (2019), Execute Project, USA (2019).

My Paintings in Public and Private Collections!

My works are in public collection at Reading Public Museum, Brownsville Museum, Siena Art Institute, and Fondazione Per' l Arte, as well as in private collections throughout Europe, the United States, South Africa, and Asia.

Oscar Prize 2008 - I worked for it!

Before relocating to England, I worked on animation in the film industry, including two movie productions, Ichthis by Marek Skrobecki (2005) and Peter and the Wolf by Suzieh Tempelton (2006), which received the Oscar Prize in 2007.

Why Should You Buy Original Art From Me?

My art has been widely interviewed and referenced for The Independent, Studio International, Expose Art Magazine, Creative Times, Radcliffe Times, A-N Magazine, Mastars at Axisweb, Arteon Art Magazine, Expose Magazine, Spokesman-Review, BuzzFeed, Daily News and featured in The Guardian, The Telegraph and MoneyWeek, NatWest, Inlander. I was mentioned on BBC Radio 4 in February 2013 as 'one to watch.'

Buy Original Art Near Me - Great! I'm From Texas!

I now live and work in Texas. If you are looking to buy original art near you - in Texas, that's great, as I live near you! Read the full article

#buyartonline #buyoriginalart #ArtInspiration #ElevateYourSpace

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