#joe madre

[iravaid]

Drew a bunch of NPCs and PCs from the zombie apocalypse ttrpg i'm in, and now they're compiled in height order. Indiana is full of tall people, unforch

Groups Below:

[quismetarc]

@asundered feat. nick dunne

amy,    you can’t seriously tell me that you married this idiot ?

i know,   retract my claws lest i scratch myself with hypocrisy.   forty’s famous last words ring loud and clear in my eardrums.   my brother lives in my head and i can practically see him clicking his tongue in my direction.   i push forty back into the depths of my guilt and focus on the situation at hand.   i too married an idiot,   amy.   we’re both women who made mistakes in life but there’s no reason we can’t learn from them.   my own idiot is somewhere in the local library figuring out who he wanted to fuck next while rearranging aisles by the dewey decimal system.   much too preoccupied to worry himself about what his doting wife was getting up to,   which is fine by me.   gives me more time to fix some problems for you.   for you amy,   i’m handling the biggest thorn in your side.    he’s a rather heavy one at that.

it took all my strength to carry nick dunne into the basement of fresh tart.   i didn’t intend him any harm when he came in asking for a box of pastries.   in fact,   i never meant to get involved in the first place.   you with your picture perfect marriage and mine with my   …   well,   it’s complicated.    but when he came in asking for an order that i just knew wasn’t your regular,   i couldn't just stand there watching.    women like us are always taken for granted.    we forget to remind our husbands that we are a privilege not a right and in turn,   we are made the villains.    oh the laundry list of reasons joe could rattle off for why he can’t keep it in his pants.    i see him in nick.   not all of him,   but the dirtiest parts.    you see,   joe isn’t all bad.   it’s why i put up with it.   the good,   and he’s so good sometimes,   makes it easy to forget the bad.   but your husband ?    he’s rotten to the core. 

❝   awake ?   ❞   i ask when he finally stirs.   my face contorts into one of faux concern and i scoot closer to him inside the plexiglass walls.    ❝   oh,   thank god.   i was so scared you had a concussion after that fall,   and i had nowhere to lay you down so i panicked but i didn’t want to overreact and call the ambulance and,    ❞    i trail off with a shaky breath as if my quick succession of lies have rattled me.    i reach out to gingerly touch the bleeding gash on his forehead where he had collided with the bakery counter.    a natural reaction for someone hit in the back with a chair.   i hope you understand,   nick,   i’m no monster.    but i also hope you understand that i need to know if you are.    i need to know for amy's sake.   ❝   i should call amy,   ❞   i say as i start to get up.   ❝   she must be so concerned that you’re taking so long picking up blueberry scones.   ❞

[come-along-pond]

thinking about how Laura becomes this whole other person in season 4 and just THRIVES being back in London

[bumblesimagines]

Love Quinn

maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

i didn't have time to get involved in anyone.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical You warnings, mentions of the murders of Delilah and James, mentions of grief over spouse's death, mentions of wanting to cheat/have an affair

"Oh, Love!" 

The automatic deep inhale the brunette had to do only made her rethink her choice to move to Madre Linda. She thought a quaint small town with beautiful suburbs and far from the mess left behind in LA would help her settle into her new life as a mother and wife. If only the real estate agent had mentioned the irritating vipers itching to drain the life out of anyone who stepped foot inside the town.

Plastering on her most genuine-looking fake smile, she spun around to face Sherry and her minions. "Hey! How are you?" She asked, her voice going higher in pitch as she leaned in to hug Sherry and each of her equally fake friends. They all smiled back at her, their smiles full of feigned glee and eyes eager to find anything amiss. 

"We're doing amazing now that our favorite florist is back in town," Sherry revealed, her arms looping around Love's and pulling her along. The giggles and whispers exchanged by the other girls, along with their big coy smiles, told Love Madre Linda's florist was either the most miserable man around or the happiest. 

"So, The Lotus is finally open for business?" Love questioned, her memory flickering back to all the times she passed by the prettily decorated flower shop in town where the sign on the window always remained flipped on 'closed'. Every once in a while, she'd catch an elderly woman shuffling into the shop and spraying some of the plants with water, but the only time Love managed to catch her for a chat, she'd only been told the shop was closed until the owner returned from out of state.

Sherry nodded eagerly, her soft pink-tinted lips stretching out into what Love could only describe as a flirtatious smile. "(Y/N)! Ugh, my god, you missed so much, sweetheart!" 

Immediately, Love's eyes darted forward, her desire to rush back into Joe's arms and complain about their neighbors zapping out of her when she laid eyes on a man she'd been searching for since James's death. She'd searched for him high and low, visiting each social media site she could think of in desperate search of any information, but of course, no first name was ever truly unique. Her friends in LA had told her the obsession was unhealthy, something caused by her grief that forced her to latch onto him; they never truly did learn of the real her.

The memories remained vivid in her mind but how could they not when it was all she ever thought about? Joe had been a lovely distraction, a revelation that others who loved as deeply as she did exist, but she often let her mind wander onto the man who'd strolled into Anavrin with a quiet demeanor and an aura of mystery. She'd been deep in her grief and guilt over James's death when he appeared in the doorway, the light of the setting sun casting an angelic halo over him that drew her eyes to him instantaneously. She'd been a goner the second their eyes met and while she'd been able to enjoy his presence the following days, he disappeared the day after she finally learned how his lips tasted and his hands felt on exposed skin.

"I'm sure I did, Sher." (Y/N) released a quiet sigh heavy with exhaustion and turned his back to the snack table to face them. He looked over each of the women present with lips pulled into a faint polite smile until they locked eyes, and Love felt that rush go through her veins. She'd felt it with Joe once in LA but it'd simmered down immensely after Delilah's death and Henry's birth. 

"This is Love Quinn-Goldberg," Sherry lightly squeezed her arm. "She and her husband, Joe, moved in while she was expecting their adorable little son, Henry. Love, this is (Y/N) (L/N), our resident florist. He can be a little grumpy at first but trust me, he's a gem once he warms up to you."

From the way (Y/N) squinted his eyes slightly and pursed his lips, Love assumed Sherry certainly hadn't reached that point yet. 

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Quinn-Goldberg," He stuck his hand out, the familiar warmth of his touch surrounding her when they shook hands; a warmth she'd once felt when his hands had touched her skin, palms pressing against her and fingers gripping firmly yet gently enough to avoid leaving marks. "You can pop by The Lotus any time and I'd be happy to help with whatever you need."

"Thank you," Love spoke softly. "A-And Love is fine. Quinn-Goldberg can be a mouthful." 

"Well-"

"Actually," Love interrupted Sherry swiftly, wriggling her arm free and stepping forward, the subtle smell of his cologne hitting her like a truck. "I, uhm.." She swallowed thickly. "A friend of mine is hosting an event and she's been asking if I knew anyone who could help with floral decorations. Would you mind if I asked you some questions so I can relay back to her?" 

(Y/N) stared at her in silence, glancing away to spare the other women the smallest bit of attention before nodding. "Yeah, sure, come this way."

His hand landed on her midback, high enough to appear polite but the touch still sent a shiver down her spine. Her lips pressed tightly together in hopes of fighting back the urge to smile, her eyes angled toward the ground as they walked out of the backyard and into a more quiet spot within the house. She hardly knew the hosts of the party but they'd been kind enough to send her and Joe an invitation to their tenth wedding anniversary so she felt inclined to accept, and boy was she glad she had.

Sparing a glance over her shoulder and raking her fingers through her hair a few times to tame the strands that'd gone rogue, Love subtly took in a deep breath and faced him in the hallway, her back pressing to the wall. She drank him in for the first time in a long time and felt a nostalgia and feeling of familiarity she dearly missed in the chaos of a new home and new faces. 

"I never thought I'd see you again after.. after everything that happened. I-I thought we'd had a good time together and then by the time I woke up, you were gone. I hoped you'd show up again but you never did." Love's brows furrowed slightly. "What happened?"

"It's.. complicated, I guess. I went to LA to escape this nightmare of a place and figure out what I wanted to make of my life. I didn't have time to get involved with anyone, not when I barely knew what do to with myself." (Y/N) sighed heavily, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat and his head tilting back to gaze over the ceiling. "It was shitty to leave like that but my grandmother called me to ask me to take over the shop for her here and I thought maybe it was a sign that I was meant to stay here. LA was hectic, anyway. At least Madre Linda is predictable, and that's probably the only comfort I can give you about this place."

Love chuckled breathlessly, a certain exhaustion lingering in the air. "Maybe... maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.. a- a friendly one, at least. You're the only person here I know and the only one I can trust not to gossip about me." A friendly date... that could lead to more. She could feel Joe pulling away from her with each passing day, it was only fair she had her own fun.

[fals3nd]

forty is an easy smile and a tip of the head at joe. "are lovey and henry out?" he knows damn well they are - love's car is conspicuously absent from the parking lot. a hand holding a large brown paper bag is raised. it's stamped with the brand of some upscale baby clothing and accoutrement brand. forty quinn ; trendy as always. "i come bearing gifts for my favorite nephew."

❛ forty. always a pleasure. ❜ it was not. ❛ what brings you to our humble abode ? ❜ joe has not moved out of the doorway , still affectively blocking forty from coming inside. love is out &* about with henry , leaving joe alone for once. ( recommended by their therapist. ) seems the universe had other plans. / @fals3nd , ♡'d

[littleadaline]

Not An Ache [F.T7]

Warnings: 🤰🤰

Word count: 2.08k

A/N: yall know the resemblance between Joe and this piece of work? They’re both sloppy (sloppy Joe) 🙈🙊

————————————————————————

“Do you see yourself with kids? I mean, unless you and Ferran haven’t brought up the subject yet.” Sara Gündogan asked you as she sipped on her coffee. You had made it a tradition to meet with her for coffee on Saturdays, taking the opportunity to catch up on each other’s lives.

“We have talked about it, and we’re both into the idea. But just can’t seem to agree on a… timeline? I mean, he’s not pressuring me or anything, but he wants to start soon and I’d rather wait a few more years. I finally got promoted at work and it feels as if everything I have dreamed of was finally given to me. I just want the opportunity to soak it all up.” You stirred your coffee, your attention diverting to the kids on the playground.

“I get it. Remember, you should never be rushed into this, the both of you should take your time into thinking about this.” She reassured you. The rest of your morning went by smoothly, with your coffee date ending before 12, leaving you plenty of time to run to the grocery store for some quick errands. As you were about to check out, a small voice in your head begged for mustard. Leaving your items with a confused cashier, you ran to get the mustard before coming back to pay for your items. Pulling into yours and Ferran’s house, you noticed his parked car in the driveway. Collecting the bags from the trunk, you waddled home. Inside, it was fairly quiet, the faint sound of the shower being heard across the open space. As usual, Ferran’s sports bag was left unattended near the entryway, tripping you as you came in.

“Puta madre.” You mumbled, massaging your knee. Mumbling under your breath, you didn’t hear Ferran come into the room.

“Lemme take care of this.” He grabbed the bag and walked into the laundry room. You collected the rest of the groceries and unloaded the bags before settling on the couch, a blanket covering you. In that short second he had come and gone, your body did a 180º. You felt chills run across your body, your legs losing strength by the second. Ferran came back into the room, dressed in a t-shirt and some shorts. While you both disagreed on the temperature of the house, it was the first time Ferran had seen you entirely engulfed by a blanket, your coat still on.

“Bebe are you cold? Are you feeling sick?” Ferran brought a hand to your forehead, feeling for fever.

Underneath the blanket, you felt like 1 million degrees, thick beads of sweat rolling from your forehead and onto your back. The air was suddenly thicker than usual, and the smell of Ferran’s body wash made you queasy. Everything felt brighter, louder; Ferran’s words stuck to your ears. Your body was going into sensory overload… Recognizing an all too familiar feeling, you pushed Ferran’s body out of the way before you ran to the bathroom. Emptying the content of your coffee date, you clutched at the trash can as you sobbed. Ferran barged right behind you, putting your hair into a bun.

“Let’s get this off.” He took off your coat, throwing it in the laundry bin. You heard the closet open and the faucet run before you felt the cold towel across your face. “Let it out my love. Breathe in.” Ferran calmed you down. He held you as you shivered, getting off the remaining vomit with the towel before throwing it into the same pile as your coat. You stayed into his arms until you calmed down. “Let’s get you into something comfortable.” Ferran took your hand.

Upstairs, he sat you on the bed as he rummaged for one of his hoodies and basketball shorts, which he knew you liked to steal whenever he was playing away. Handing you the clothes, Ferran closed the blinds, allowing for full darkness to take over the room.

“I’ll go make you some tea for your stomach.” He left you alone in the room with your racing thoughts.

A few minutes went by before you heard the familiar sound of his slides on the stairs. The door opened and Ferran came in the room with a cup of tea and anti-nausea medication.

“Medication’s for later,” He said, realizing you were staring at the little beige pill. “What did you have for brunch today?” He asked as he settled under the covers with you, his head on your chest.

“Um… A coffee with oat cream and a raspberry danish. Nothing unusual.”

“Must be a stomach bug or something. At least you’ve gotten it all out. You should just rest up. I’ll take care of supper today.” With that, Ferran left you to rest. You had finally closed your eyes when the sensory overload kicked in again.

“Ferran!” You called out for him in a shaky voice.

Upon hearing your voice, Ferran dropped the vegetables and ran upstairs, and into the room. He found you rolled up on the bed, thick beads of sweat running across your forehead.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna pick you up.” Ferran scooped you up and brought you to the bathroom, sitting down on the floor with you. He handed you the trash can as you emptied out your stomach for a second time, rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. The room was silent, except for your sobs and heavy breathing. Ferran’s heart broke at the sight of you sitting down like this. You heard him get up before grabbing another towel and wetting it. He knelt in front of you, gently wiping your face. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your heart swooning at his features. His eyelashes, the shape of his lips, his bambi eyes… you loved him so much.

“Let’s get you on the couch instead. I need to be near in case this happens again.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumbs, wiping away the remaining tears. Too weak to speak, you simply nodded, holding on to his neck as he picked you up. Settled on the couch, Ferran brought you your cup of tea as well as a water bottle. He tucked you in before getting back to his cooking duties, in which he had found a new joy. Hours passed and you were still peacefully asleep on the couch, your breathing stable and regular.

Waking up from your much needed nap, you walked into the kitchen. Your body had woken up with a strong craving for mustard. Squirting the condiment onto the spoon, you sighed in delight as you ate it. In the doorway of the kitchen a perplexed Ferran was staring at you.

“Oye, what are you doing?” He took the bottle of mustard away, earning a frown from you. “You just threw up, I doubt the best thing for you to eat is mustard. Also, you hate mustard with a passion.” He questioned you.

“I had a craving. Do we have chocolate chips?” You asked him innocently.

“Yes we do, in the bottom shelf of the pantr-” Ferran interrupted himself. “Why am I telling you? You’re not supposed to eat this. Get back on the couch and eat some soup. It’s chicken and noodle.” Ferran could feel himself grow tired. You sighed as Ferran sent you back to the couch, putting away the mustard in the fridge. Sitting next to you on the couch, Ferran could feel your restlessness.

“Oye, what has gotten into you today?” He barely worded out before you straddled his lap, slowly leaving sloppy kisses on his neck. Your body was on fire and Ferran’s touch was the only way to extinguish the fire burning inside of you. Ferran slowly put you down on the couch. “Nena I’d love to take care of you in that sense, but you were sick a few hours ago. I just want you to rest.”

With that, Ferran carried you to bed after helping you with your nighttime routine. It was around 6 A.M when you woke up gasping for air, feeling as if something was preventing you from fully breathing.

“Ferran wake up. Ferran,” You shook his arm, violently pulling him out of his slumber. “I think I’m gonna throw up again.”

“Joder, mi amor, ¿qué te pasa?” He sleepily put on his shirt and led you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the floor as he went to retrieve your water bottle and a towel. You texted Sara, who had an early morning flight.

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

Been throwing up since yesterday. I’m exhausted. Send help lol

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

I’m so sorry my love :( Drink lots of water and have some yogurt.

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

Yeah, and I even bought mustard at the grocery store yesterday… and I don’t even like it. Don’t get me started on how I climbed on Ferran after supper.

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

You don’t think…

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

What?

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

🤰🤰🤰

You had been evading the possibility of being pregnant with Ferran’s child, especially considering the irony of your conversation with Sara the day before. You reached for the cupboard where you stashed the pregnancy tests, in the eventual case you and Ferran would start trying. Frantically tearing the plastic from the test, you sat down on the toilet and let your bladder go. Right at this moment, Ferran walked back in into the room.

“Que haces?” He said, taking the pregnancy test box in his hand. “Do you think you’re pregnant? I mean we haven’t done it unprotected except… fuck, your parents’ dinner back in December.” Realization hit him. “Pee faster.”

“Ferran, either get out or be quiet.” The stress took over you. You cleaned yourself up and put back the test in its packaging before washing your hands. You set your timer for 3 minutes and sat down on the floor. Ferran followed suit.

“Hey, hey, positive or not, everything is gonna be okay.” Ferran could see the tears bordering your eyes. He scooted closer, holding you in his arms. You stayed in this position until the timer ran out, a harsh alarm bringing you back to reality. “Do you want me to take a look?”

“I’ll do it,” you shakily got up. “Ferran… Can you please hold my hand?” You pleaded.

“Anytime.” Ferran gently took your hand, tracing over your palm with his thumb. You took the test out of the packaging, looking one last time at your boyfriend.

Pregnant

You buried your head in his chest, violently sobbing.

“We’re having a baby, amor. We’re having a baby.” You said, the last sentence coming out as a whisper.

Ferran’s heart exploded with joy upon hearing your words. He tightened his hold on you. He hadn’t thought of starting a family until he met you. He let out a tear, then two, and finally the dam broke.

“Aye mi amor. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He said, peppering your face with kisses. You stayed in each others’ arms for a few minutes trying to come to realization with the next chapter of your lives.

“We’re having a baby.” He cooed. “I feel like telling the whole world. Screaming atop of rooftops.” Ferran chuckled as he knelt down to your abdomen. “Hola mini tiburón. I’m your dada, and your mom and I can’t wait to shower you with love.” He finished with a kiss to your bellybutton.

That night, the two of you barely slept. Ferran was already going through daycare lists, disapproving those that didn’t have any outside playgrounds. He had already sent you nursery models, stating “I’d purposefully injure myself and be out for a few weeks if it means I get to start on the nursery”. You, on the other side, hadn’t taken off your hand from your stomach. You were still processing the news, but above all, you were extremely grateful to have Ferran on your side, and as the kid’s dad.

“Good night my love. And good night, Carlota Míriam Torres.” Ferran said as he pressed a kiss to your lips and then to your stomach.

“Already got a name?” You asked him teasingly?

“You don’t understand how long I have been waiting for this day to come.” He said tearfully.

[wihlted]

she was worried she'd said the wrong thing ; but joe seems to be well versed in putting people at ease. ❝     who knows. i guess i heard all those things that girl said about you, and i wanted to find out if it was true for myself.     ❞

serena said, i thought you'd be different. boring, maybe.

❝ gee, you're breaking my heart,  ❞ i grin, lowering my coffee as i dare ask @wihlted, ❝ so serena, what did you come to find out?  ❞

𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗 ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ .

[housesredlollipop]

house md character as quotes my friends said

House

“nn s dce frocio”

“you can’t say faggot” (said by hetero? guy)

“joe biden and donald trump french kiss yaoi hidden love”

“I NEED TO PLAY AROUND WITH SOME MEN”

Wilson

“io chiudo la porta anche se sono solo (devo tenere fuori i mostri del buio)”

“i close the door even if I'm alone (i have to keep the monsters of the dark out)” (talking about peeing in the middle of night)

“charisma and lack of special awarness which actually makes it look like you’re confident”

Cuddy

“mia nonna madre gaslighting queen”

“my mother gaslighting queen”

-Fa caggare il cazzo

“ESATTO! VIVA LA VAGINA”

Cameron: Dicks suck

“EXACTLY! LONG LIVE VAGINA”

Cameron

“Love quando le cose nazionali sono lgbt friendly”

“Love when national things are lgbt friendly” (edit of those french and polish politician)

“vasco house indosserebbe le scarpe da ginnastica a ognuno dei nostri funerali”

“house would wear sneakers to every one of our funerals”

Foreman

“Che sono pazzi e si credono fighi perché hanno la luce elettrica”

“They are crazy and think they're cool because they have electric lights” (talking about positivismo)

“Giulka Cameron ha aperto un sito porno per la prima volta e si è fidata delle pubblicità”

“Cameron opened a porn site for the first time and trusted the ads” (she saw penis growing cream ads)

Chase

“Bo comunque cazzo pisello palle zucchina zucca pelata patata”

“Bo anyway fuck dick balls courgette peeled pumpkin potato”

Eric: 5 cm taller but you still breath FART AIR

“i’ll fart in your mouth”

13

“Maybe women didnt like leopardi but maybe a twink on tinder would”

“Cami House i need you to kill me”

Taub

“Comunque siete solo degli haters perché io non diventerò pelato”

“Anyway you're just haters because I won't go bald” (is balding)

“quando jovi kutner mi dice “io dormo con white noise” e poi partono i peti più forti che tu abbia mai sentito in vita tua”

“when kutner tells me “i sleep with white noise” and then the loudest farts you've ever heard in your life start”

Kutner

“grazie pupe siete le mie troione da battaglia”

“thank you babes, you are my battle sluts”

“RE GALLINO CANTA DURANTE LA NOTTE U U U”

“KING ROOSTER SINGS DURING THE NIGHT U U U”

[ripempezardexerox]

Dices Merzbow, yo digo Justin Beiber

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Dices Cukor Bila Smert', yo digo Jonas Brothers

Dices cLOUDDEAD, yo opino que te calles

Dices Muslimgauze, ¡¡ YO GRITO POP!!

Dices Kaoru Abe, y te parto la madre

El 92% de la juventud está escuchando Avant Garde Noise. Si eres parte de ese 8% que aun escucha música de verdad, comparte este post a tus contactos de facebook.

¡¡¡¡ No dejes que el espíritu del POP muera !!!!

[marksbear]

hi papa bear! i want you to take your time answering this request giving whats been happening recently, i just don’t want you to feel rushed, so please have a speedy recovery. joe has been consuming my brain recently, so could i request a joe goldberg x male reader where the reader is like this super sweet guy (on the outside, so maybe he works as a florist or something) and joe is infatuated with him. and when joe tries to break into his house, he ends up getting caught and tied up, which he then sees a whole ‘nother side of reader (so like, really dominate). but he isn’t really complaining, and reader starts to take interest in joe. and i’ll just leave it to you to let your imagination go wild, you can or can’t do smut, i’m just desperate for joe content. have a good day! and thank you if you end up doing this request!

I love Joe to my core! But sadly I don't have the chance to watch season 4, so this would take place in season 3!

Warnings! Breaking in, pervert Joe, LIME, teasing, stalker, killing mentioning, slight voice kink

JOE GOLDBERG X "Sweet" DOM MALE READER

How did I let myself get dragged here?

Joe thinks to himself as he follows closely behind the group of neighbors inside Madre Linda.

Including himself and his wife Love, Carry and Sherry, Matthew and his son Theo, Andre and Jackson.

He didn't know where the hell Sherry was taking the group. Everybody besides him and Love seemed to know this route through the neighborhood very well. Everybody was in a happier mood. Not the usual fake happy mood that everybody in this place shows. No. An actual happy mood.

Even Matthew seemed in a little happier mood knowing the place they were going to.

Love already tried to ask the group hundreds of times about where they are going, but they didn't budge her answer.

"I don't want to be here. I should be with my real true love Marienne. I'm just wasting my time here rather than being with her. God. Why the hell did Love drag me here with her. I swear if we take one more left----"

Joe's train of thoughts gets cut off.

"Were here!!" Sherry squeals in happiness as her husband opens the door welcoming everybody inside.

Joe stays outside a little looking at the sign. The sign read "Wildflowers!" with bright colored lights.

"You gotta be kidding me." Joe thinks to himself looking at the decorated outside with all types of flowers and colors. Joe was already thinking about the people who was mostly likely inside the shop already judging everything about it.

After a while of scanning Joe walks inside with Sherry announcing quite loudly.

"Goldberg's! Meet the most beautiful and calmest place in Madre Linda!" Sherry exclaims.

Joe looks inside the flower shop looking for anything to pick up his interest.

"Sherry! You guys are here to welcome back!" A pre-teen voice says happily welcoming the group inside. The boy looked around ten to twelve he had green eyes almost matching the whole aesthetic of this place.

"Here you go~" The boy hands Sherry a white rose with a wink causing her husband to laugh.

"Caleb my man! Where are your parents? Specifically your dad." Cary says emphasizing the word dad. "He's----" The boy gets cut off by a pair of gloves on his shoulders holding him tight startling the boy.

"His dad. Is right here."

Joe's eyes look up from the boy's face and to his "father's."

"Well, hello there... You're not my usual type, but i'll make exceptions. You sound way too young and sweet to even be any kind of father. You obviously don't care about being dirty taking note of the little dirt smudges on your face. Your hair is a bit messy, but still well put together. You take off your gloves and aprons maybe to look better than you already do. You look at everyone with a smile before slowly you lock eyes with me."

"Oh~ Is this the oh so famous Goldberg's I've been hearing about?" The florists ask with a sweet smile before reaching his hand out to Joe and love.

"Y/n L/n nice to meet the both of you."

Joe reaches out his hand as well letting Y/n grasp it and shaking it before sadly letting go and shaking Love's.

"You and Lara are still doing that fake dad and mom thing?" Matthew questions with an eyebrow raised.

"Well last week was supposed to be the last time, but I couldn't bare the thought of Caleb being taken away. And plus his mom asked us to only for a bit longer. I just couldn't say no." Y/n answers with a smile.

"Now I gotta get back to work feel free to chill." Y/n says before leaving.

"Y/n L/n..." Joe thinks to himself one last time as the man leaves.

TIMESKIP

Joe stalked and learned about Y/n. He learned his work hours, his friends and groups, how he always likes to help others before him. And so on.

So now Joe was outside Y/n's house looking around making sure the close was clear. Y/n's car wasn't in the driveway signalling to Joe that he was out. Joe knew that Y/n had dinner plans with one of his many friend groups. And Joe knew that the "sweet" Y/n wouldn't bail on anything.

Joe stalked up to the house carefully before walking around the outside of the house looking for a open window or unlocked window.

"Finally an unlocked one. Y/n were you hoping that I would break in how sweet of you." Joe thinks as he opens it and steps inside.

Joe shuts it after him before taking a look at his soundings.

"Beautiful house you got Y/n. You even got books here! Just perfect place for the both us."

Joe walks around the house picking things that Y/n owns that were left around. Like jackets, Polaroid photos, rings and even shirts laying around before stuffing it inside his backpack. Joe begins to walk up stairs looking through rooms and areas looking for a specific place.

"Found it." Joe thinks to himself as he looks around Y/n's bedroom.

Before Joe could fully go inside his bedroom something smashes against the back of his head knocking him out cold.

Y/n stood over Joe with broken pieces of a plant pot in his hands. Y/n tosses the pieces to the side before staring down at Joe's body. Y/n picks up Joe's arms before dragging him back downstairs and into the living room laying him down on the floor.

After a while Y/n comes back with a chair and rope.

Y/n sits Joe's body on the chair before tying up his arms and legs to the chair. Once Y/n made sure everything was nice and tight on Joe, he used extra rope to gag Joe's mouth. Y/n begins to walk around his house making sure there's nothing valuable stolen.

Couple minutes later Y/n goes back in the living room checking up on Joe.

Y/n watches from behind as Joe slowly lifts up his head regaining consciousness. Y/n could hear muffled and quiet noises from Joe. Some of the noises sounded like his name.

Y/n slowly stalks up closer to Joe before walking in front of him standind in front of him with arms crossed.

"I knew you were a bit creepy, but never took you as a robber Joe. If you're gonna at least break in someone's house at least double check no ones here! Now when I take this rope out of your mouth you better not scream or any bullshit got it?"

Joe's POV

When were you so dominant? And god why is it making--- No not the time for this. How come you'd never show me this side of you? Were you hiding it on purpose... Y/n you tease.

As you take the rope off of me I get to get a good look of your face.

You still look so good. Even though your hair looked a bit like a mess and your clothes were wrinkly you still looked so fucking good.

"Now that you can talk. Tell me why the hell you're here." You say with venom laced in your tone.

Y/n... What are you doing to me?

"What? Are you just gonna keep staring at me? Now answer the damn question Joe."

"I was- Uhm I was doing Love a favor. She thought she left her purse here and she kept nagging me to come to your house and get it That's all I swear!" The lie falls out of my mouth.

"Then why are some of my clothes in your bag?" You ask tossing my bag in front of me with some of your clothes falling out of it.

I was left speechless. I didn't mean to not say anything, but the words just got stuck in my throat.

"So, Joe i'm gonna ask you one last time why'd you break into my house?" Your questions keep leaving me speechless. It felt like my body was paralyzed under your dominant eyes.

You sit on the couch across from me arms still crossed with your legs spread. You began to tap your foot impatiently.

"Because of you." I say barley above a whisper. I see you cock your eyebrow signalling to me you didn't hear me. "I said because of you."

"Really. Because of me. You broke into my house for me?" Your tone made me feel even more stupid.

Stupid in love of course.

We stare at each other for a long time making eye contact without a word. Your eyes look and study me. If only I could hear your thoughts Y/n.

“So I’m guessing you like me. What about your wife and son?”

I think about my answer for a second before saying. “Yes of course I like you. I’ll do anything for you and I mean anything!” “Anything Goldberg?” “Yes I’ll do anything!”

“We’ll then, you caught my interest Joe. Now it’s just your job to keep my eyes on you.” Once those words fall from your lips my heart burns with excitement.

You walk up to me untying me from the tight ropes before helping me up.

Then my body acts on its own.

REGULAR POV

Joe wraps his arms around Y/n’s shoulders bring him close in a tight hug.

As if Joe lost all control of his body he grinds and rut into Y/n clearly wanting something. Joe kiss and nibble on Y/n’s neck.

“Ah ah. Not yet Joe~ I just don’t fuck anybody’s married husband. I’m to sweet for that.” Y/n says lightly pushing the eager man away from him.

“And especially when that man’s wife is coming over for dinner.”

“Huh?! W-Why is she coming?”

“Unlike you she actually knows how to interact with people before breaking inside their house. And plus it’s good that she’s coming here.

.

.

.

Y/n takes a hidden knife off the table giving it to Joe.

“It’s for own benefit Joe. We can be with each other if you just kill her! We can raise Henry fine. We just need her out the picture first before anything.”

“So Joe. Are you still willing to do anything for me?”

THE END

[tomorrowusa]

A lot of people won't like hearing this, but the meat industry is terrible for this planet.

Last weekend, Elon Musk posted one of his more outrageously false tweets to date: “Important to note that what happens on Earth’s surface (eg farming) has no meaningful impact on climate change.” Musk was, as he has been from time to time, wrong. As climate experts rushed to emphasize, farming actually accounts for around a quarter of global greenhouse gas emissions.

Musk spewing disinformation is not exactly news. But even by his standards, his contention regarding livestock agriculture and climate was on a par with George Santos's fantasies.

The tens of billions of chickens, pigs, cows, and other animals we raise and slaughter for food annually account for around 15 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, primarily from cow burps, animal manure, and the fertilizer used to grow the corn and soy they eat. More than one-third of the Earth’s habitable land is used for animal farming — much of it cleared for cattle grazing and growing all thatcorn and soy — making animal agriculture the leading cause of deforestation and biodiversity loss globally. Deforestation causes emissions itself, but it also represents a missed opportunity to sequester carbon. If that land were “rewilded,” or retired as farmland, it would act as a carbon sink, sucking massive amounts of climate-warming carbon out of the atmosphere. But we keep clearing more and more forestland, especially in the Amazon rainforest and elsewhere in the tropics, mostly for beef, pork, and poultry.

Yep, livestock grazing accounts for almost a third of our usable land.

The message regarding livestock agriculture just isn't getting out.

Madre Brava also conducted a media analysis that found that between 2020 and 2022, less than 0.5 percent of stories about climate change by leading news outlets in the US, the United Kingdom, and Europe mentioned meat or livestock. Last month, two groups that work on issues related to animal agriculture — Sentient Media and Faunalytics — published an analysis with similar findings. The organizations looked at the 100 most recent climate change stories from each of the top 10 US media outlets, including the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Wall Street Journal, and CNN, and found that 7 percent mentioned animal agriculture. Of that 7 percent, most only discussed how climate change-fueled weather events like droughts, floods, and heatwaves impact animal farmers. “Across the 1,000 articles we examined, only a handful of stories reported in depth on the connection between consuming animal products and climate change,” the researchers wrote. The media is an easy target, and some criticism is deserved — it’s a disservice to readers to largely ignore a leading cause of the climate crisis. Part of the problem is that the media, like everyone else, operates in an information environment in which the meat lobby downplays and in some cases suppresses the full extent to which burgers, ribs, and chicken nuggets pollute the planet. But journalists could be doing more to cut through the noise.

We need to speak up more ourselves. Entrenched interests and powerful lobbying groups are not shy about promoting livestock businesses which harm the planet.

The National Cattlemen’s Beef Association, the industry’s leading lobby group, runs a “climate messaging machine,” food journalist Joe Fassler recently wrote in the Guardian, that trains influencers to confuse the public and downplay beef’s emissions. The list goes on. Last year, leaked documents showed that delegates from Brazil and Argentina successfully lobbied the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change to remove any mention of meat’s negative impact on the environment, or recommendations for people in rich countries to reduce their meat consumption, in its recent report. Meat giant Tyson Foods spends a much bigger share of its revenue than ExxonMobil lobbying Congress to stop climate policy. Outside the animal rights movement, there aren’t many voices pushing back against these narratives. The US environmental movement has largely shied away from campaigning to reduce meat and dairy production, with some leaders outright rejecting the notion that we need to eat fewer animals. Policymakers largely avoid the issue too.

We have a lot of catching up to do – and fast.

“The food conversation is probably about 20 years behind the energy conversation, and it is catching up, but it’s not visceral to people in the way energy is — that they immediately know energy is a climate issue,” said Michael Grunwald, a food and agriculture columnist for Canary Media, in the Sentient Media panel discussion. But time is in short supply. Experts say that if we don’t change what we eat — especially reducing beef and dairy — we can’t meet the Paris climate agreement of limiting global warming to 2 degrees Celsius or less.

In addition to publicizing the issue, we can lead by example. Eating less meat or even no meat lets people know we're serious about what we're saying.

There will be pushback from the industry and also from populist blowhards. We can imagine at least one saying something like: "Hunter Biden wants to steal your double cheeseburger. SAD!"

But no discussion of carbon emissions is complete without talk of livestock agriculture and its effects.

[armatofu]

¿MIEDO A LA VEJEZ DE TUS PADRES?

Vale mucho leerlo, lo comparto textual:

“Hay una ruptura en la historia de la familia, donde las edades se acumulan y se superponen y el orden natural no tiene sentido: es cuando el hijo se convierte en el padre de su padre”.

Es cuando el padre se hace mayor y comienza a trotar como si estuviera dentro de la niebla. Lento, lento, impreciso.

Es cuando uno de los padres que te tomó con fuerza de la mano cuando eras pequeño ya no quiere estar solo.

Es cuando el padre, una vez firme e insuperable, se debilita y toma aliento dos veces antes de levantarse de su lugar.

Es cuando el padre, que en otro tiempo había mandado y ordenado, hoy solo suspira, solo gime, y busca dónde está la puerta y la ventana - todo corredor ahora está lejos.

Es cuando uno de los padres antes dispuesto y trabajador fracasa en ponerse su propia ropa y no recuerda tomar sus medicamentos.

Y nosotros, como hijos, no haremos otra cosa sino aceptar que somos responsables de esa vida.

Aquella vida que nos engendró depende de nuestra vida para morir en paz.

Todo hijo es el padre de la muerte de su padre. Tal vez la vejez del padre y de la madre es curiosamente el último embarazo.

Nuestra última enseñanza. Una oportunidad para devolver los cuidados y el amor que nos han dado por décadas.

Y así como adaptamos nuestra casa para cuidar de nuestros bebés, bloqueando tomas de luz y poniendo corralitos, ahora vamos a cambiar la distribución de los muebles para nuestros padres.

La primera transformación ocurre en el cuarto de baño. Seremos los padres de nuestros padres los que ahora pondremos una barra en la regadera.

La barra es emblemática. La barra es simbólica. La barra es inaugurar el “destemplamiento de las aguas”.

Porque la ducha, simple y refrescante, ahora es una tempestad para los viejos pies de nuestros protectores.

No podemos dejarlos ningún momento.

La casa de quien cuida de sus padres tendrá abrazaderas por las paredes. Y nuestros brazos se extenderán en forma de barandillas.

Envejecer es caminar sosteniéndose de los objetos, envejecer es incluso subir escaleras sin escalones. Seremos extraños en nuestra propia casa. Observaremos cada detalle con miedo y desconocimiento, con duda y preocupación.

Seremos arquitectos, diseñadores, ingenieros frustrados. ¿Cómo no previmos que nuestros padres se enfermarían y necesitarían de nosotros?

Nos lamentaremos de los sofás, las estatuas y la escalera de caracol. Lamentaremos todos los obstáculos y la alfombra.

Feliz el hijo que es el padre de su padre antes de su muerte, y pobre del hijo que aparece sólo en el funeral y no se despide un poco cada día.

Mi amigo Joseph Klein acompañó a su padre hasta sus últimos minutos.

En el hospital, la enfermera hacía la maniobra para moverlo de la cama a la camilla, tratando de cambiar las sábanas cuando Joe gritó desde su asiento: Deja que te ayude. Reunió fuerzas y tomó por primera vez a su padre en su regazo. Colocó la cara de su padre contra su pecho.

Acomodó en sus hombros a su padre consumido por el cáncer: pequeño, arrugado, frágil, tembloroso. Se quedó abrazándolo por un buen tiempo, el tiempo equivalente a su infancia, el tiempo equivalente a su adolescencia, un buen tiempo, un tiempo interminable.

Meciendo a su padre de un lado al otro. Acariciando a su padre. Calmando él a su padre. Y decía en voz baja:

- ¡Estoy aquí, estoy aquí, papá! “Lo que un padre quiere oír al final de su vida es que su hijo está ahí”.

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Becoming the Quinn-Goldbergs obsession

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns for y/n: he/him/his

~~~

Living in Madre Linda had its ups and downs. The community was tight-knit and you could practically always count on someone for something. As long as that something wasn't gossip worthy.

The soul sucking residents of your town were irritating to deal with and borderline hellish on a bad day. Over all, you were able to count on one hand the amount of neighbors you considered friends.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

The Quinn-Goldbergs. A young couple who were new to the wonders of parenthood. It only took an hour after their arrival for you to learn virtually everything about them through Sherry and her minions.

You met Love first. She'd been out grabbing mail when you returned from town with some groceries. She'd flashed a charming smile and seemed more than happy to chat until the duties of motherhood swept her away.

Popping open the trunk of the car, you slipped out of the driver's side and closed the door. Barely noticing movement in the yard over, you walked to the back of your car and began picking the bags into your arms.

"Hey, neighbor!" A cheery voice called out and you leaned back, catching sight of a brunette standing on the other side of the fence. She carried some envelopes in one hand, lifting the other to wave at you. "I'm Love! We just moved here a couple weeks ago."

"Nice to meet you, Love." You returned the smile, using your free hand to close the trunk before approaching the fence. She perked up and stepped closer, resting her hand atop the short picket fence.

"You must be (Y/N). Sherry mentioned we were neighbors."

"Did she?" You didn't intend to sound so ticked off about it but from the knowing look that passed over Love's features, she understood your distaste completely.

"I'd introduce you to my husband but he's off at the library. He's pretty serious about his books." Love chuckled lightly.

"Oh, really? I'm an avid reader myself."

"Seriously?" Her brows rose, eyes practically twinkling. "Oh, then I'm sure you two will get along!"

Only a couple days would pass before you were invited to a party and there you'd meet Joe, the beloved husband and polar opposite of Love.

It'd been a little awkward at first with neither you nor Joe knowing exactly what to say. That was until Cary spoke and you exchanged an exasperated look with Joe. Afterwards the conversations began, going from complaining about the residents to books and the library.

Love grew obsessed first. She often found herself over at your place with Henry, finding solace in the fact she finally had someone real and honest to talk to in the neighborhood.

She didn't realize the signs at first, too caught up in the bliss of what she believed was innocent friendship until she began keeping track of your day to day life and involving herself more and more.

She frequently cooked you meals and brought them over, insisting she just wanted to do something nice for you and 'I just really appreciate your company'.

Love only truly noticed her obsession when attending a birthday party and overhearing Sherry giggling about you and another woman. The dread, rage, and jealousy that erupted inside her was enough to push her into a full obsession.

Smiling softly, Love watched Joe tend to Henry as she picked up a slice of cheese from the table and took a bite from it. Without thinking, she began searching for you in the crowd of guests, taking slow steps until she neared Sherry and Kiki.

"I heard the reason they divorced was because she was seeing (Y/N) on the down low." Sherry whispered, nodding wildly when Kiki gaped at her. "I mean, I believe it. She's always flirting with him."

Love felt her body freeze, eyes dancing around frantically in search of you. It couldn't be true, could it? If you were seeing someone... No, you'd tell her, right?

Finally spotting you in the crowd, she walked forward, pace quick but not fast enough to draw attention to herself. You sweetly smiled at her upon noticing her and she felt herself relax, unable to resist smiling back.

"(Y/N), I was looking for you everywhere!" She breathed, turning her attention onto the woman you'd been speaking with. Looping her arms around yours, she tilted her head.

"Could I steal him for a moment?"

"Of course, no problem."

"Great!" Whipping out her best fake smile, she resisted the urge to sneer at the woman before pulling you away from her.

Upon recognizing her feelings, Love grew conflicted. She still loved Joe completely and hated the thought of ruining their family, especially after powering through the Natalie situation. So, she remained silent... Unaware of her husband's own dilemma.

It had taken Joe only a few days to realize his obsession. He had brushed off his desire to be around you and hear more about you as the want for a friend in the nightmarish town of Madre Linda.

Until he found himself putting on his favorite cap and watching you from the safety of his car. It had clicked the moment he turned his car engine on and began his typical monologue.

Joe was no stranger to obsessions. In fact, one could consider him extremely experienced in the area. There had been Nurse Fiona, Candace, Beck, Love, and Natalie. All of them shared some minor similar traits but the biggest one being they were women. You were not.

This realization had sent Joe through a bit of an identity crisis where he both distanced himself from you- limiting his face to face interactions with you, sending Love on his behalf- and kept an eye in you by continuing to watch you.

But, you had noticed his odd behavior and finally confronted him about it, much to his relief and dismay.

"Okay, what's up?" Joe blinked, tearing his eyes away from his wife and child. His throat tightened as he stared up at you, internally cursing and panicking.

"Wh-What do you mean?" He chuckled nervously. You raised a brow and plopped down beside him on the bench, noting the way he rubbed his palms on his pants.

"You've been avoiding me." You pointed out, giving him a look when he attempted to protest.

Time to come clean. Or at least, partly come clean.

Clearing his throat and exhaling deeply, he shifted to face you. "It's nothing personal, I promise. I've just had a lot on my mind between Henry and settling into the new neighborhood." He explained softly, reaching out to touch your shoulder.

"Is that all?" You asked, frowning at him. "You can tell me anything, Joe. You and Love are the only people here I actually trust."

Trust... Trust and eventually... Love. Joe was sure of it. You'd love him just as much as he loved you. He just needed to play his cards right and avoid drawing suspicion from Love. She'd done enough already. Natalie's decaying body was proof of that.

From then on, the couple tiptoed around each other, fully unaware they had similar feelings for you.

Joe found it easier to keep from Love. He'd already slipped into your house, taking small things he knew you wouldn't notice go missing. He kept them stored in a spot he knew Love wouldn't think about looking and plotted ways to make you fall for him.

Love, on the other hand, found it more difficult. She felt guilt and worry eating her up inside. She loved Joe wholeheartedly but she felt similarly about you. Eventually, she couldn't keep it up, desperate to get closer to you without risking Joe lashing out.

"Joe, we need to talk." Love called from the kitchen, staring at the freshly baked cupcakes in hand. She set them down on the island and sighed, looking up at Joe as he entered the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, finishing his tea and placing the cup down. Dread filled both of their stomachs, staring at one another.

Joe worried she'd figured it out and attacked you impulsively.

Love worried he'd discard of you as easily he'd done with the others.

"It's about (Y/N)."

"What about him?" Joe asked, attempting to keep a calm and cool mask. Love dug her teeth into the inside of her cheek, fingers tapping against the island.

"I... I think I love him, Joe." She whispered and felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "No, I'm... I'm obsessed with him." She added just as quietly.

"Are you serious?" Joe stared at her, a wave of surprise washing over him. When the brunette nodded, Joe pushed himself away from the island and turned, listening to her panicked calls for him. Removing the painting and reaching into the little nook he had created, he pulled out the book and returned to the kitchen.

His wife blinked, brows furrowing. "W-What is that?"

"Guess." Joe answered, lifting the top off and pushing it toward her. Hesitantly, Love peered inside and reached in to pull out the silver ring. Her lips parted when she remembered having seen you wear it the day you had met Joe.

"Joe... Does this mean...?" Love trailed off, meeting her husband's eyes.

"Yes."

They had nothing to fear from each other. They could learn to share, learn to love you equally. They could plan together. They could finally have you all to themselves.

[bookbutterfly1999]

I really wished they had killed Joe Goldberg. Man didn’t deserve a fake redemption arc with all the power in his hands.

How dumb is Kate to believe the coincidental timing of her dad and her boyfriend’s attempt had nothing to do with each other?

Or did he actually confess to ALL his crimes: from Guinevere Beck, her boyfriend, best friend, Paco’s dad, Candace (the OG attempt), Candace’s guy who she cheated on Joe with, Henderson, Delilah, Love Quinn, and now in season 4 with Malcom, Simon, The real Rhys Montrose, the security and Kate’s father, Nadia and Edward… and these are just the ones we saw on Screen ok, there’s way many more folks we definitely are not privy to.

So the folks who know who he actually is, and are actually alive are: Paco (but he was too young and may have forgotten), Will Bettelheim (the OG), Ellie, and now Marienne.

They don’t have any evidence and all have reasons to not come forward since they are either complicit in some way or the prime suspect (except for Marienne but she just escaped literal hell.

BUT. Isn’t it insane that Joe Goldberg’s records are clean prior to Love and Madre Linda?

I’m definitely seeing a pattern repeat here:

Joe finds a lady here who is powerful and can cover up his mistakes. - the ending of both seasons 2 and 4.

My question is, how complicit is Kate in comparison to Love?

Surely Joe isn’t seeing her as a “monster” or something. It’s also awfully convenient how he has the whole world at his feet right now because of the timely murder of her dad, coincidentally in the same timeframe he tried to suicide…

The fact that the Eat Rich Killer’s work started just as Joe joined their little circle…

Is Kate turning a blind eye on purpose, being the “perfect version of her” for him? Or is she humouring him while knowing the truth? Or is she genuinely ready to risk it all for this idiot that she’s dating because she feels nice and doesn’t care about his murderous and stalkerish tendencies?

Hardly one to blame the women, tbh. I definitely think Nadia got done dirty. She was this close to getting with it all away.

It would have been more bone chilling for them to live and no on believe them even with all the evidence because of the Kate-Joe rich thing.

My point is.

What’s the thin line that’s acceptable for Joe that separates Kate, from Love?

[pinksopaque]

@jgoldberg asked : ...hell exists... it's 3am, here, without you.

for once , they're separated . not divorced , but joe's off on some librarian seminar while love's back home in madre linda , taking care of henry - holding the fort down , in layman's terms . she knows that it's her responsibility as the wife , the mother to tend to things while her husband is away .

though , phone held in her hand , henry asleep in the crib - she's resting in their shared bedroom , back against the pillow as she's listening to her husband's words , a smile imprinted on her face , yet , wondering on when was the appropriate time to ask when he'd be back from his trip . not that she was rushing him , no . more so that she was missing his presence around the home , even if he drove her insane . a short cadence of laughter coming from her lips as he's telling her about what had happened for the day , love's nose is scrunched , humming softly as her head nods .

she's being pliant - loving , caring . all things that she knows that he deserves in this lifetime , really . " seems like it was chaotic , " she replies , feeling herself getting more comfortable under the covers as she turns on her side , laying down ultimately . " i feel the same way , y'know . being at home without you .. feels like the tenth circle of hell or something , " she lets out , angling the phone to see her husband some more .

" when are you .. when are you coming home ? henry misses you . " she spills , swallowing the lump in her throat - knowing that he'd tell her to be patient or something , wax on a quote from some poem he's read - not that she's opposed , but she'd rather hear the truth from him .

[julio-viernes]

Dos temas del LP de mayo de 1974 "Body Heat", un nuevo paso adelante de Quincy Jones, un magnífico disco de soul, R&B, funk. Arriba "Boogie Joe The Grinder", cuyo sonido, toque, textura, todo, es a lo que aspiraba David Bowie en "Fame" y no le salió nada mal, fue directo al nº 1 USA. Sabía que con su música previa, y sobre todo con su imagen previa, era imposible. Sólo que la de Quincy es un año anterior y es mejor. Como casi siempre Bowie más que maestro, aventajado alumno, aunque también maestro de coger de aquí y allá.

El tema titular es tórrido, sensual, de noche de ventilador de verano en la ciudad con sudor de muchos grados. En este disco tienen mucho peso los teclados y sintetizadores de Herbie Hancock, Dave Grusin, Larry Dunn, Malcolm Cecil, Robert Margouleff, Mike Melvoin y Billy Preston - madre mía, ¡menudo equipo!-, por ejemplo en "One Track Mind".