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mtreebeardiles · 2 years

Note

❛ you got me flowers? ❜ - for Dana and Shiala maybe. I have a mighty need for marshmallow.

I hope this satisfies the need for marshmallow!

Also over on AO3!

The Presidium was a mess, but the shops were still open.

Dana found herself impressed, sidestepping smoldering wreckage on her way down the steps to the lower market. Stress was evident enough, more blatant than it had been before, the Citadel having gotten its first harsh dose of reality and it was hard for its citizens to pretend the war was some distant, hazy thing with their shining white walls and floors littered with debris.

She angled her trajectory to the trio of shops just below Apollo's, catching snatches of conversation between shopkeepers and C-Sec and every day civilians. She largely tuned them out, as inconspicuous as she could be in the hoodie she'd stolen from Kaidan earlier, and was blessedly left alone as she browsed the different kiosks. Supply lines were strained, available goods and services stretched thin, but this was the third time she and Shiala had managed to arrange some time together and she wanted to do something…nice, for the Asari.

What the fuck do you get an Asari Commando?

Guns had been her first instinct -- who didn't like a new rifle? -- but she wasn't impressed with the selection. Armor mods were another no-go, all that was left amounting to scraps and generic, mass-produced pieces meant to reassure civilians rather than offer substantial protection for a fighter. Biotic amps were too out of her wheelhouse and she had no idea what differences there were between Asari and humans. Could've asked Liara, but she didn't need her all-knowing friend knowing even more than she already did and giving her that teasing smile and Kaidan was out of the question after the seventh message demanding she get her ass to the Normandy and give his hoodie back.

Fish were a poor choice, since most people with sense didn't build massive tanks into space-faring vessels meant for combat and reconnaissance. Weapon mods were as subpar as the gun selection. She huffed a sigh, frustrated and about to give up on the whole venture when another stall caught her eye. Flowers? Hmm…

Dana didn't know shit about flowers, but they did know what roses looked like and these were pretty nice. A rich red, stems free of thorns, and they had to grow them somewhere on the Citadel since she doubted they'd come from Earth itself. Earth and red and Reds and she felt herself smiling a little, reaching out a finger and almost touching before the shopkeep spoke up.

"Interested in these?"

"Yeah," they replied. "Thanks."

The florist agreed to hold on to the arrangement for her, and Dana took to wandering the Presidium with more presence of mind than she had before. Her date with Shiala wasn't for another hour or so at Apollo's, and she figured it didn't hurt to get a pulse on the situation around here after the attempted Cerberus coup. Some firm words with C-Sec officers looking to save face after how easily they'd been infiltrated meant she'd lost the smokescreen the stolen hoodie had provided her, but it was a worthy cause to get the space cops to leave off workers trying to do their jobs in peace. By the time she convinced a pair of civilians that there were ways beyond fighting to help the war effort it was time to head back to the café.

A detour to grab the flowers and Dana felt that familiar flutter of nerves and excitement in her belly. Shiala didn't seem to mind her stumbling much, at least, or else she imagined the Asari wouldn't agree to keep seeing her, and maybe the gift was a bit much but… Dana wanted her to know she appreciated it. Appreciated the chances, the patience, the indulgence in something normal in the midst of all this chaos. Appreciated her, her company, the way she let Dana just be Dana and not the Commander for a little while.

Shiala was just sitting down at their table when Dana arrived, and the Asari looked up at her approach. Already smiling and that smile grew a touch curious, Shiala blinking as she stood to greet her.

"Hey," Dana said, feeling the telltale warmth in her cheeks as Shiala's gaze dropped to the flowers in her hand. "These, uh. These are for you."

"…you got me flowers?" And Dana's thoughts went into hyperdrive, nerves flaring again.

Oh shit, did I fuck up?

"Uhh, yeah, I mean, I uh, I just wanted -- you know, to show you that I uh -- I mean I wanted to get you maybe a new rifle or something but let's be real, merc-brand weapons aren't exactly built for finesse and oh god," Dana's stomach dropped, "oh god, do you even like plants after the whole Thorian thing? I am so sorry--"

But Shiala was laughing, gently taking the roses from Shepard's fingers with one hand and cupping their cheek with the other.

"I love them," she assured her, stopping her rambling with a gentle kiss to her lips. Dana sighed, relaxing, and smiled sheepishly back.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Another kiss, seemingly for good measure, and Shiala took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Sorry I just sorta word vomited at you there."

A low chuckle and Shiala gave her hand a tug, leading her to the table.

"It's okay," she said. "It's…sweet."

"Pretty sure it's cringey."

"Maybe I like knowing I can make you so delightfully flustered."

Dana laughed, cheeks still warm, but with the flowers gently set aside Shiala had reclaimed her hand and scooted her chair closer so they could read over the menu together.

"That you do," she murmured, kissing the Asari's cheek. "That you do."

#my writing #Dana Shepard #Shiala #Shepard x Shiala #Mass effect #prompt fill #still working on these character voices but i am having fun with it

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allyourprettywords · 2 years

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"A Refusal to Mourn the Deaths, by Gunfire, of Three Men in Brooklyn," John Murillo

“And at times, didn’t the whole country try to break his skin?” —Tim Seibles

You strike your one good match to watch its bloom and jook, a swan song just before a night wind comes to snuff it. That’s the kind of day it’s been. Your Black & Mild, now, useless as a prayer pressed between your lips. God damn the wind. And everything it brings. You hit the corner store to cop a light, and spy the trouble rising in the cashier’s eyes. TV reports some whack job shot two cops then popped himself, here, in the borough, just one mile away. You’ve heard this one before. In which there’s blood. In which a black man snaps. In which things burn. You buy your matches. Christ is watching from the wall art, swathed in fire.

“This country is mine as much as an orphan’s house is his.” —Terrance Hayes

To breathe it in, this boulevard perfume of beauty shops and roti shacks, to take in all its funk, calypso, reggaeton, and soul, to watch school kids and elders go about their days, their living, is, if not to fall in love, at least to wonder why some want us dead. Again this week, they killed another child who looked like me. A child we’ll march about, who’ll grace our placards, say, then be forgotten like a trampled pamphlet. What I want, I’m not supposed to. Payback. Woe and plenty trouble for the gunman’s clan. I’m not suppose to. But I want a brick, a window. One good match, to watch it bloom.

“America, I forgive you… I forgive you eating black children, I know your hunger.” --Bob Kaufman

You dream of stockpiles—bottles filled with gas and wicks stripped from a dead cop’s slacks—a row of paddy wagons parked, a pitcher’s arm. You dream of roses, time-lapse blossoms from the breasts of sheriffs, singing Calico and casings’ rain. You dream of scattered stars, dream panthers at the precinct, dream a black- out, planned and put to use. You dream your crew a getaway van, engine running. Or, no thought to run at all. You dream a flare sent up too late against the sky, the coup come hard and fast. You dream of pistol smoke and bacon, folded flags—and why feel shame? Is it the dream? Or that it’s only dream?

“& still when I sing this awful tale, there is more than a dead black man at the center.” —Reginald Dwayne Betts

You change the channel, and it’s him again. Or not him. Him, but younger. Him, but old. Or him with skullcap. Kufi. Hoodied down. It’s him at fifteen. Him at forty. Bald, or dreadlocked. Fat, or chiseled. Six foot three, or three foot six. Coal black or Ralph Bunche bright. Again, it’s him. Again, he reached. Today, behind his back, his waist, beneath the seat, his socks, to pull an Uzi, morning star, or Molotov. They said don’t move, they said get down, they said to walk back toward their car. He, so to speak, got down… Three to the head, six to the heart. A mother kneels and prays— Not peace, but pipe bombs, hands to light the fuse.

“Fuck the whole muthafucking thing.” —Etheridge Knight

A black man, dancing for the nightly news, grins wide and white, all thirty-two aglow and glad to be invited. Makes a show of laying out, of laundry airing. Throws the burden back on boys, their baggy wear and boisterous voices. Tells good folk at home how streets run bloody, riffraff take to crime like mice to mayhem, and how lawmen, more than ever, need us all to back them. Fuck this chump, the channel, and the check they cut to get him. Fuck the nodding blonde, the fat man hosting. Fuck the story. Fuck the quick acquittals. Fuck the crowds and camera van. You change the channel. Fuck, it’s him again.

“I enter this story by the same door each time.” --Julian Randall

At Normandy and Florence, brick in hand, one afternoon in ‘92, with half the city razed and turned against itself, a young boy beat a man to meat, and signed, thereby, the Ledger of the Damned. Big Book of Bad Decisions. Black Boy’s Almanac of Shit You Can’t Take Back. We watched, in shock. The fury, sure. But more so that it took this long to set it. All these matchstick years… He beat him with a brick, then danced a jig around his almost-carcass. Cameras caught him live and ran that loop for weeks, all night, all day, to prove us all, I think, one thug, one black beast prancing on the nightly news.

“And when it comes to those hard deeds done by righteous people and martyrs, isn’t it about time for that to be you?” --Gary Copeland Lilley

Not Huey on his high back wicker throne, beret cocked cooler than an Oaktown pimp. Or young Guevara marching into camp, all swagger, mane, and slung M-1. But one less suited, you could say, for picture books and posters, slouching on a northbound Bolt, caressing steel and posting plans to shoot. He means, for once, to be of use. Small axe to massive branches, tree where hangs the noose. He says he’s “putting wings on pigs today,” wants two for each of us they’ve blown away. Wants gun salutes and caskets. Dirges, tears, and wreaths. Wants widows on the witness stand, or near the riot’s flashpoint, brick in hand.

“I itch for my turn.” --Indigo Moor

Like Malcolm at the window, rifle raised and ready for whatever—classic black and white we pinned above our dorm room desks— we knew a storm brewed, spinning weathervanes and hustling flocks from sky to sky. We dozed, most nights, nose deep in paperback prognoses. Wretched and Black Skin, White Masks, our books of revelation. Clarions to would-be warriors, if only we might rise up from our armchairs, lecture halls, or blunt smoke cyphers. Talking all that gun and glory, not a Nat among us. Free to wax heroic. Deep. As bullet holes through Panther posters, Huey’s shattered throne.

“Poems are bullshit unless they are teeth…” —Amiri Baraka

It ain’t enough to rabble rouse. To run off at the mouth. To speechify and sing. Just ain’t enough to preach it, Poet, kin to kin, pulpit to choir, as if song were anything like Panther work. It ain’t. This morning when the poets took the park to poet at each other, rage and rant, the goon squad watched and smiled, watched us shake our fists and fret. No doubt amused. As when a mastiff meets a yapping lapdog, or the way a king might watch a circus clown produce a pistol from a passing car. Our wrath the flag that reads kaboom! Our art, a Malcolm poster rolled up, raised to swat.

“every once in a while i see the winged spirits of niggas past raise out the rubble” --Paul Beatty

Could be he meant to set the world right. One bullet at a time. One well-placed slug, one dancing shell case at a time. One hot projectile pushing through, one body bag zipped shut and shipped to cold store, at a time. Could be he meant to make us proud, to fill Nat Turner’s shoes. Could be he meant to aim at each acquittal, scot free cop, each trigger pull or chokehold left unchecked, and blast daylight straight through. Could be he meant, for once, to do. We chat. We chant. We theorize and write. We clasp our hands, spark frankincense, and pray. Our gods, though, have no ears. And yet, his gun sang loud. Enough to make them all lean in.

“Paradise is a world where everything is sanctuary & nothing is a gun.” --Danez Smith

A pipebomb hurled through a wig shop’s glass— nine melting mannequins, nine crowns of flame. Hair singe miasma, black smoke braided. Scream of squad cars blocks away. Burnt out Caprice and overturned Toyota. Strip mall stripped. And gutted. Gift shop, pet shop, liquor store, old stationery wholesale. Home décor, cheap dinnerware. An old man sprinting, draped in handbags, loaded down with wedding gowns. Three Bloods and two Crips tying, end-to-end, one red, one blue, bandana. Freebase fiend with grocery bags, new kicks, and name brand jeans. Spilled jug of milk against the curb, black cat bent low to lap it. This, your world, burnt bright.

“I love the world, but my heart’s been cheated.” --Cornelius Eady

He thought a prayer and a pistol grip enough to get it done. Enough to get him free. Get free or, dying, try. To stop the bleeding. Blood on leaves, blood at the root. I didn’t root, exactly, when I heard word spread. Word that he crept up, panther like, and let loose lead. A lot. Before he fled the spot, then somewhere underground, let kick his cannon one last time. “One Time,” our name for cops back at the crib. It had to do, I think, with chance. Or lack of. Chickens come to roost? Perhaps. I didn’t root. Per se. But almost cracked a smile that day. The news like wind chimes on the breeze. Or shattered glass.

“We beg your pardon, America. We beg your pardon, once again.” --Gil Scott-Heron

To preach forgiveness in a burning church. To nevermind the noose. To nurse one cheek then turn the next. To run and fetch the switch. To switch up, weary of it all. Then cock the hammer back and let it fall… But they were men, you say, with children. And so close to Christmas. But their wives, you say. Today so close to Christmas… Memory as noose, and history as burning church, who’d come across the two cops parked and not think, Go time? One time for Tamir time? Not think Fire this time? To say as much is savage. Blame the times, and what they’ve made of us. We know now, which, and where—the pistol or the prayer.

“…like sparklers tracing an old alphabet in the night sky” --Amaud Jamaul Johnson

It’s natural, no, to put your faith in fire? The way it makes new all it touches. How a city, let’s say, might become, by way of time and riot, pure. In ’92, we thought to gather ashes where before loomed all that meant to kill us. Rubble now and lovely. Worked into, as if from clay, some sort of monument. To what? No clue. Scorched earth, and then…? Suppose a man sets out, with gun and half a plan, to be of use. To hunt police. Insane, we’d say. Not long for life. In this, we’d miss the point. A lit match put to gas-soaked rag, the bottle flung, may die, but dying, leaves a burning house.

“Afro angels, black saints, balanced upon the switchblades of that air and sang.” --Robert Hayden

But that was when you still believed in fire, the gospel of the purge, the burning house. You used to think a rifle and a prayer, a pipebomb hurled through a shopkeep’s glass, enough, at last, to set the world right. Enough, at least, to galvanize some kin. Think Malcolm at the window, set to shoot, or Huey on his high-back wicker throne. Think Normandy and Florence, brick in hand, a Black man dancing for the camera crews. You change the channel, there he is again, and begging: Find some bottles, fill with gas. Begs breathe in deep the Molotov’s perfume. Says strike your one good match, then watch it bloom.

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thenixkat · 11 days

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youtube

5 Million Ways To Kill A C.E.O. by The Coup

Lyrics:

[Intro: Scratches] Help me out Yo, yo, yo, yo! Help me out Yo, yo, yo, yo!

[Chorus: Boots Riley] We've got 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go We've got 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go

[Verse 1: Boots Riley] Well I hope you testify that it was worth your waitin' On the turf debatin' how to get it percolatin' He workin' you while we happy just to work a day But I'ma slap him 'til my blood starts circulatin' (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Do your checks have elasticity? Did they cut off yo' 'lectricity? Did you scream and yell explicitly? Force the boss into complicity (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) I'm a white chalk stencil but I push a pencil Rollin' dope fiend rentals through your residential Broke as fuck, eatin' lentils with no utensil Finna teach pimp class with a ho credential (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) They own sweat shops, pet cops, and fields of cola Murder babies with they molars on the areola Control the Pope, Dalai Lama, Holy Rollers, and the Ayatollah Bump this rollin' in your bucket or your new Corolla Well you might catch me on the scenic route, with my penis out Yellin', "Twamps for the executives with the meanest mouth!" Wanna know what this demeanor's 'bout? City tried to clean us out Green is clout, shut 'em down, they ain't never seen a drought You interviewed but they ain't callin' you back And for the record I ain't called it a gat But tuck this in the small of your back Wait in the bathroom stall 'til I tap (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) [Chorus: Boots Riley] We've got 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go We've got 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go

[Verse 2: Boots Riley] 'Cept this game ain't slow, it's the creeper If you a janitor, get a street sweeper Ugly is even skin deeper If you can't get the Pres, get the VeePer (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) They made the murder scene before there was a coroner I mighta been born here but I'm a foreigner Spillin' swigs for victims of pigs and Afeni's kid Flip off the lid, who you pourin fo'? (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) You too could be a corporate green killer, bean spiller (uh) "Gangster of Love" just like Steve Miller They wear skivvies that's made of chinchilla Factory in Mexico, bought a spring villa I'm from the land where the Panthers grew You know the city and the avenue If you the boss we'll be smabbin' through, and we'll be grabbin' you To say, "Whassup with the ra-venue?" (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) And if you feel it we can even try to seal it with the

[Verse 3: Boots Riley] Tell him it's a boom in child prostitution When he show up at the stroll, give him lead restitution You could throw a twenty in a vat o' hot oil When he jump in after it watch him boil (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Toss a dollar in the river and when he jump in If you can find he can swim Put lead boots on him and do it again! You and a friend Videotape and the party don't end (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Tell that boogers be sellin' like crack He gon' put the little baggies in his nose and suffocate like that Put a fifty in the barrel of a gun When he try to suck it out, a-ha, well you know this one (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Make sure you ain't got no priors Don't tell 'em that we conspired We could let him try to change a flat tire Or we could all at once retire (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) There are just a few of the

[Chorus: Boots Riley] 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go 5 million ways to kill a CEO Slap him up and shake him up and then you know Let him off the flo', then bait him with the dough You can do it funk or do it disco (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Y'know how this go

[Outro: Boots Riley] Bay Area, get ready to brawl Bay Area, are you ready to brawl? L.A., get ready to brawl L.A., are you ready to brawl? (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Chi-town, get ready to brawl Chi-Town, are you ready to brawl? Detroit, are you ready to brawl? Detroit, are you ready to brawl? (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Atlanta, are you ready to brawl? Atlanta, you ready to brawl? Houston, get ready to brawl Houston, get ready to brawl (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) New York, are you ready brawl? New York, are you ready to brawl? London, get ready to brawl London, are you ready to brawl? (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Capetown, get ready to brawl Capetown, are you ready to brawl? Tokyo, get ready to brawl Tokyo, are you ready to brawl? (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Yeah The Coup (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Boots Riley, Pam the Funkstress It's really goin' down (Yo, yo, yo, yo!) Yeah, ya know, in case you didn't know, gats are comin' The Coup You know, sum'n, sum'n (Yo, yo, yo, yo!)

#youtube #the coup #the coup band #5 billion ways to kill a ceo #rap #political music

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americanmysticom · 9 months

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Locals Tell What REALLY Happened Maui Fire https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-Zmz2Z8JE8

I Am Eloho

The people of Maui speak out. There is speculation that arson is related to the unusually patterned fire, this includes the possible use of federal government DEW (arson by use of newly developed Directed Energy Weapons is possible, and not out of scope.)

The people of Lahaina ask for your help. They don't want carpetbagger globalist government loans.

They are also being harassed by developers. The community is built on mainly native property. https://www.hawaiicommunityfoundation.org/

youtube

[Not unlike the trauma of the Las Vegas shootings. Deluge the newswires to divert attention from governmental treason?]

HAWAII HIT, KINGSTON QUESTIONS | The Prather Brief Ep. 86 https://rumble.com/v37m1x8-hawaii-hit-kingston-questions-the-prather-brief-ep.-86.html

Jeffrey Prather builds his case for suspecting the use of DEW weaponry on US native citizens, citing government affiliated special interests

MAUI MAYHEM/OLD GUARD VS NATIONAL GUARD VS COAST GUARD! | The Prather Brief Ep. 87 https://rumble.com/v38azne-the-prather-brief-ep.-87.html

Government gods want native land.

BREAK THRU THE PSYOP! - INFORMATION CONTROL IS MIND CONTROL! - LEARN ABOUT CRIMINAL HYPNOSIS!

https://www.secretdonttell.com/shop pdf&mp3 available

The trick of creating chaos and then seizing power under the pretense of putting things back in order is a tried and true method of deception and manipulation. It’s the meaning behind the Latin motto: ORDO AB CHAO meaning ORDER OUT OF CHAOS.

It’s also referred to as the Hegelian Dialect after the philosopher Georg Hegel who wrote about its effectiveness. He described it as: THESIS — ANTI-THESIS — SYN-THESIS.

Others have described it as: PROBLEM — REACTION — SOLUTION

BREAK THRU THE PSYOP! - INFORMATION CONTROL IS MIND CONTROL! - LEARN ABOUT CRIMINAL HYPNOSIS!

https://www.secretdonttell.com/shop pdf&mp3 available

#Lahaina Maui Fire #Youtube #DEW directed energy weapon #Lahaina arson #Government Treason

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rainsmediaradio · 1 year

Text

Lil Yatchy - Strike Lyrics

Lil Yatchy - Strike Lyrics Pre-Chorus Yeah (Mm, mm) Okay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm) It's us (Brr) Chorus I been rolled up, yeah, I was geeking I w—, huh, I was high as fuck, tweaking (Yeah, yeah, yeah) I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit like a match, late night, yeah Strike like I missed it, strike like I hit the pin Strike like I'm not going to work, strike, strike Verse 1 You know that shit look real when you already do You know the guys sip on drank till it's early, yeah All this Bottega, shoulda shopped at Berlin (Just did) Drank man had cracked the seal, I begged him to sell it to- (I did) Stars in the roof, this shit ain't nothing, I switch the coupe (Gang) Emo bitch, shе like to go take shrooms, look like Bеtty Boop (Yeah, yeah) Shitting me? Copping SRTs and do Fruity Loops (Shitting me?) He can't play big bank, I switch out whips like they switch out shoes (Yeah) Pre-Chorus Yeah (Mm, mm) Okay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm) It's us (Brr) Chorus I been rolled up, yeah, I was geeking I w—, huh, I was high as fuck, tweaking (Yeah, yeah, yeah) I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit like a match, late night, yeah Strike like I missed it, strike like I hit the pin Strike like I'm not goin' to work, strike, strike Verse 2 Slide, slide, shoulders, huh, shoulders, uh Stack them old hundreds, recreate Yoda (Hm, hm, hm) I don't put no crushed ice in my soda (Hm, hm, hm) Percy got her stuck like a holster, uh (Hm, hm, hm) It's a gun in my holster (Hm, hm, hm, no stylist) New Balenci' out in Dover (Hm, hm, hm, 220) It's a four in my soda, sit it on a Balenci' coaster (Shh) Pre-Chorus Yeah (Mm, mm) Okay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm) It's us (Brr) Chorus I been rolled up, yeah, I was geeking I w—, huh, I was high as fuck, tweaking (Yeah, yeah, yeah) I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit I was tryna strike shit like a match, late night, yeah Strike like I missed it, strike like I hit the pin Strike like I'm not going to work, strike, strike Read the full article

#LilYatchy

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justahillbillyfromouterspace · 7 years

Photo

Cop Shop Coupe ... ... ... Street Rodder mag built by Tom Pufer ... ... ...Dave Bell artist

#Ford Cars #ford #hot rod #cop shop coupe #streed rodder

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sapphixxx · 3 years

Text

The thing that fucks me up about North American city planning is not just that it's ugly or that it sucks, but the knowledge of what it took to seize the land and seize the money to build it in the first place. The US enslaved millions, committed genocide against an entire continent to take the land from people who had lived there for millennia, committed coups and invaded nations on every other continent, destabilizing governments and fanning the flames of war and destruction worldwide, threatened to engulf the globe and nuclear hellfire and boil the oceans, all in the name of profit. And after all of that, it was for this?

All of that blood spilled for strip malls and cookie cutter suburbs, entire belts of the country of which are now empty and rotting because everybody left? So much unspeakable violence to halt anyone from challenging the shape of society and the hierarchy of domination, and of all things it was done in the name of, it was this? A way of living that people aren't even happy with? So many cultures and languages, thousands of years of history passed from one generation to another, were uprooted and tried to extinguish, for shopping malls that didn't last even a single lifetime? There is nothing that would have been worth what imperialism has done to the world, but it's spaces like these which, to me, are even more emblematic of the structural myopic selfishness of capitalism that spurred on all of that violence than the tacky opulence of any billionaire.

Even at home, that these endless suburbs were built for white Americans fleeing from having to share cities with non-white neighbors. All the billions of tax dollars spent to employ white supremacist cops to surveil, harass, kill, cram into overcrowded prisons and immigrant concentration camps, so many countless people of color, spurred on by racist fear that they might somehow threaten this.

All of that to create and maintain a society of alienated and isolated would-be monarchs living in flimsy little plywood and plaster castles filled with an endless stream of toys that will be shortly forgotten and thrown away, surrounded by miles and miles of empty featureless places which only exist to give them warehouse sized concrete boxes full of collections of shelves from which to select from ten dozen nearly identical types of bland home goods to spend their money on.

Make no mistake, no individual or even large group of individuals in the suburbs caused this on their own. It is not the vague specter of consumerism or personal spending habits that created this. It is the product of the way our whole society was built and shaped by capitalist white supremacy. The same fundamental logic is true of Europe and every other imperialist project, too, even if it hides it better behind a prettier facade or a better set of social welfare options. This is just the naked face of it laid stark and bare.

#op #heavy

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zuzuslastbraincell · 3 years

Note

In an post-war fanfic redemed Azula what kind of amends Azula could do for wrecking havoc in the Earth Kingdom and conquering ba sing sa??

If I’m honest, this is a more pertinent question for Iroh, who arguably did far more damage to the Earth Kingdom as a Fire Nation general who had spent a great portion of his adult lifetime leading the military efforts against the EK, and lead several military campaigns including a six hundred day siege (and a siege that long undoubtedly causes famine and disease and poverty, and will impact the citizens regardless its success). I think it is Iroh - who spent years as a soldier, whose campaigns most likely involved many casualties - rather than Azula - a teenager who orchestrated a largely bloodless coup and then promptly left - that the people of the Earth Kingdom would more likely harbour resentment against, and though while I’m sure she is probably loathed as well (and has amends to make, for sure), she isn’t the ‘main villain’ from an EK perspective. There is arguably more Iroh can do for the Earth Kingdom in particular (and it isn’t ‘setting up a tea shop’).

That said, putting my doubts about the framing of this aside: this is a difficult question and I’m open to suggestions here. An obvious way of making amends in a general sense would be financial reparations and payments particularly to the local governments of the various EK provinces, particularly those most affected by the war. I think directly dispensing aid rather than reparations could be tricky since the largest mobilised force in the FN is the military and the military giving aid is bad, for obvious reasons. Azula could take a political role where she spearheads these efforts as part of the FN government, but the question is, while that works in the framework of ‘making amends’, I don’t think that would be advisable politically – what sort of insulting statement is it to send Azula to deal with negotiations about reparations? Like, to rub that military defeat in the EK’s faces? And while I think Azula could be useful in a political role where she is not the head of state, I question how much she’d want to do this, as well as whether it’s the best use of her talent and time. If I were to put Azula in a governmental position I think – assuming, for the moment, and this is a big assumption, that Zuko trusts her – I think she’d be far more useful dealing with the Fire Nation since she’s likely got a better understanding of the FN politically and economically. This doesn’t really have anything to do with amends, however.

In all honesty, if I were someone from the EK, what I’d be demanding for is for people like Iroh and Azula and prominent military figures and governors of former colonies to face justice – i.e. some kind of trial/assessment, some kind of legal repercussion. I think, though, realistically this isn’t something Zuko would do to Iroh or Azula – not simply for personal reasons, but also politically speaking, if you try and do a complete clean sweep in a nation like the FN, you’d have absolutely no allies or enemies left to speak of, as there likely isn’t really anyone in the political structure of the FN that hasn’t condoned atrocities at some point, and that would lead to such a vicious factional dispute that would sink Zuko’s regime before it even started (arguably helping very few people). Realistically, Zuko would probably offer pardons, and at worst, a slap on the wrist for people who decide to tow the line / concede his victory, and pursue military and political officials who refuse to do so. Despite his notoriety, Iroh would probably escape repercussions because of his aid to the Avatar (who’d probably vouch for him) and his direct involvement in underground opposition to the former regime (if you could call the White Lotus that). As for Azula, she’d likely be excused on account of her age, bonus if she’s willing to offer her public support to Zuko’s regime (which is a maybe, depends on how your redemption arc goes). I really think legal justice is just a very unlikely solution, like regardless of how much political wisdom possesses, I think that wouldn’t be something he’d concede simply for emotional reasons.

What does this leave us? She attempt to track down and round up traitors / old regime loyalists, but I question how healthy that’d be for Azula (although she would be in her element), and how helpful that is for the EK. She could try and offer her support for Zuko’s case to the court about why reparations are necessary and attempt to keep the nobles on the fence (after they have, presumably, cleared house, and decided who is worth keeping on side) but I also am not sure whether deciding who is and isn’t loyal would be great for Azula given that she had a paranoid breakdown (but perhaps I am underestimating her capabilities). If Azula were a different type of character, I’d propose fundraising/charity efforts, as weirdly anachronistic and liberal a solution as that is, but without getting sidetracked with a long paragraph about the limitations of charity to deal with systematic injustice, I also don’t think that’s something I really can see her doing.

Honestly, I’m half of a mind to say the best thing she can do for the EK is just fuck off and leave them alone? But perhaps that is a cop-out? Again, I’m open to suggestions here.

#azula #to an extent i really feel like being white + british limits my answer here more than usual #because i could tell you what i'd want from amends in an interpersonal conflict #but i couldn't tell you from personal experience what i'd want or need politically #i lack that vantage point #when it comes to being on the receiving end of devastation by an imperial power #long post

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years

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The Buy In

For the prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

Chapter One: Fresh Meat

by @dracusfyre

“Hey, boss, we got fresh meat for you,” the man at Bucky’s elbow said. Bucky’s heart was in his throat, pulse racing like mad; he was the first detective ever to get this close to Tony Stark, to the Mechanic, and he prayed he would live to tell the tale. For years Stark had only been seen through the lens of a telescoping camera, impeccably dressed with sunglasses hiding his eyes and surrounded by his men at all times. Before today there had been no wiretaps, no informants, no insight into the elusive mob boss and his inner circle. But after years of hard work, Bucky was about to change that. As he was pushed into the echoing warehouse, his eyes darted around the room, taking in the classic cars, the souped-up sports coupes and half-built engines, looking for the man himself. Bucky wondered how many of these were stolen and awaiting new buyers. Men in suits were spread out guarding the exits, but he didn’t see a desk or an office, any kind of throne from which Stark ran his criminal empire.

After a moment, in the middle of the room, a man that Bucky’s eyes had completely glossed over unfolded himself from a work bench. He was wearing a tank top and low-slung jeans, and as he stood, he pulled his welding mask off and put down the butane torch. Bucky blinked, stunned as he approached; the man’s hair was tousled and messy, jaw dark with a five o’clock shadow, arms toned and tan. His eyes, when they met Bucky’s, where whiskey brown and warm with amusement. Bucky barely kept his jaw from dropping as he recognized Tony Stark, right down to the scar on his jaw he’d gotten in the car crash that had killed his parents.

“New meat, huh?” Stark asked, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his head and studied Bucky with eyes that seemed entirely too perceptive. “Tell me about him.”

“Wants a job,” the man at his elbow said. Bucky didn’t jump, but it was a near thing; he’d forgotten the man was even there. This was Tony Stark? The Mechanic was actually a mechanic? Everyone, from Bucky's fellow policemen to the FBI task force that had been organized to take him down, to the ATF agents and federal marshals that swapped stories over beer, had a different theory about where the man’s klichka came from: because of his well-known penchant for nice cars, because shop tools were his favorite methods of interrogation, because he was good at greasing wheels and making things happen. No one had ever suggested, even as a joke, that it might be because the man was a grease monkey. “Former military, spent time in Iraq,” the man continued. What was his name? Oh yeah, Harold. Everyone called him Happy. “Got out and a friend of a friend got him a job, if you know what I mean. His info checks out; he used to do work down at Brighton Beach then moved up to Red Hook before crossing the bridge. You said we needed new muscle down on 6th, remember?”

“I remember.” Stark pulled out a wrench that had been hanging from his belt and started flipping it from hand to hand as he considered Bucky thoughtfully. Bucky lifted his chin and met Stark’s eyes, hoping his nervousness didn’t show; this wasn’t his first undercover assignment, just the one with the highest stakes. Stark controlled most of Manhattan and had been successfully expanding his territory at the expense of the Russians and Irish and gangs from Harlem. As the silence stretched, the metal of the wrench flashed in the light from the windows as it rose and fell, his hands sure and steady. “Go away, copper,” Stark said finally, and Bucky gaped as Stark turned away.

“I’m not a cop,” Bucky protested to Stark’s surprisingly muscled back. This operation, his job, maybe even his life depended on convincing Stark he wasn’t a cop. “Look, this is the biggest outfit in the city and I just want a paycheck, ok? My last boss came up short and ran back to Armenia without paying his debts. Word is you always pay up.”

“Sure you do,” Stark said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “We all just want a paycheck, right? Happy, remind me why we need muscle on 6th?”

“Cops have been hassling our people,” Happy said, taking a step away from Bucky and eyeing him with suspicion. “Trying to shake’em down, demanding a cut.”

“Right, right.” Stark picked up his welding mask but didn’t put it on. “What’s your name, copper?”

“I’m not-“ When Stark just raised an eyebrow and gestured like get on with it, Bucky said, “Jason. Jason Brooks.”

“That’s it? No street name?”

“My friends call me JB sometimes, but that’s it.”

“Alright, Blue Eyes,” Stark said as he pulled his mask back down over his eyes and fired up the torch again with a hiss of blue-white heat. “Get the cops to lay off my people, and you’ll get your paycheck.”

Happy put a hand on Bucky’s back and shoved him back out the door of the warehouse since they’d been dismissed. “That’s it?” Bucky said, bemused.

“Yeah, that’s it. Whaddya want, to provide a resume and cover letter? It’s not like the Boss has to check with HR here.”

“Does he really think I’m a cop?”

Happy shrugged. “Only the boss knows what the boss thinks. Guess not if he said you could stay. Come back tomorrow at 5.”

“Do you really think he’s a cop?” Rhodey asked when Tony was done welding, coming over to admire the smooth bead he’d put on the chassis of the classic car he was remodeling.

“Oh, he’s definitely a cop,” Tony said, stretching his back and shoulders. “But then I thought, we have a cop, we have cop problems, let’s let one take care of the other. Either he’ll get them to back off, or he won’t, but either way one of my problems will be solved.”

“Oh, so it’s not because he has a pretty face?”

“I didn’t know you were on the market, platypus,” Tony said with wide eyes. “I’m sure I could get his number for you, along with his bank account, social security number, and entire relationship history.” When Rhodey just rolled his eyes, Tony grinned. “He did have a pretty face, though, didn’t he? I wonder if that’s why they sent him.”

“Not unless the feds have changed their MO in a big way,” Rhodey said, handing Tony a towel to clean his hands and wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

“I’ll let him run around a bit and see what happens,” Tony said, voice turning serious. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I had about Natasha. Or Natalie, whatever she’s calling herself now.” Natasha had been a plant from the Russians, trying to crack his operations so they could retake some blocks they’d lost a few years ago when Tony had taken advantage of infighting to push his boundaries out. She’d taken one look at the ladies working in Tony’s territory and taken to them like a mother cat with kittens. She’d also organized them with the ruthlessness of any NY City union boss, eliminating pimps with such prejudice it earned her the klichka the Widow. Six months into working for him, she’d flipped and given him everything she knew and was the reason why the Russians had been pushed back to their tiny toe-hold in Brighton Beach, with most of them heading back for greener territories back in the Motherland. “Put him with KT. He’s good with newbies.”

“You aren’t worried he’s going to find something?”

Because it was Rhodey, Tony gave it some thought. Whatever law enforcement sent Blue Eyes had apparently done a better job with his cover than the previous people did; so far Happy had been able to weed them out pretty early on. Tony couldn’t even say why he was getting a cop vibe from the new guy. He had short hair, little longer than military regulation, but the stubble on his jaw screamed six-day bender and he had the thousand-yard stare of an ex-soldier used to violence down pat. Hell, that part was probably true. Maybe it was the surprise in his eyes when he’d seen Tony; in Tony’s experience, most people who made their living on the streets had the ability to be surprised burned out of them long ago. “Nah,” Tony said eventually. “For the good stuff, he’d have to go through me. Anything else he’d just be nibbling around the edges.”

“Whatever you say,” Rhodey said with a shrug.

#tony stark #winteriron #bucky barnes #no powers au #tony x bucky #dracusfyre

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chiseler · 3 years

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Downward Christian Soldiers

Father Charles Coughlin, 1930s

On January 14 1940, the FBI arrested 18 men in New York City accused of plotting the overthrow of the U.S. government. Fourteen were snatched up in their homes in Brooklyn, the others in The Bronx and Queens. Searches yielded more than a dozen Springfield rifles, a shotgun, some handguns, thousands of rounds of ammunition, and the materials for homemade bombs. J. Edgar Hoover said they were plotting a terrorist campaign targeting transportation, power, and communications facilities; their goal was to rouse the military into staging a coup, placing a strong dictator like Hitler or Mussolini in power, and cleansing the country of Jews.

The men were mostly of German or Irish descent, and ranged in age from 18 to 38. If employed (a few weren’t), they held low-end jobs, including an elevator mechanic, a telephone lineman, a chauffeur, a couple of salesmen, a couple of office clerks. The 18-year-old was a student. Most troubling was the fact that six of them were National Guardsmen.

They were all followers of a Father Coughlin-inspired movement called the Christian Front. In his mid-1930s heyday, Coughlin was arguably the most powerful pro-Fascist voice in America. An Irish Catholic originally from Canada, he had first turned to radio in the 1920s simply as a way to expand his ministry beyond his tiny congregation in Royal Oaks. He had a strong radio voice, and when CBS started syndicating his weekly sermons in 1929 it was an instant success. The crash and start of the Depression politicized him. His condemnations of Wall Street and President Hoover brought him tens of thousands of fan letters a week, and his high praises for Hoover’s opponent FDR surely had an impact on the 1932 elections. Then, when the invitation he craved to sit among President Roosevelt’s circle of advisors didn’t come, he turned bitter as a jilted lover. He began denouncing Roosevelt, his New Deal, his Jew York advisors, and his friends in the labor movement as all facets of an international Jewish-Communist conspiracy to destroy Christianity and democracy. He also praised Franco, Mussolini, and Hitler for defending their people against this spreading evil.

Coughlin’s call for a “Christian Front” to combat the Communists’ mid-1930s Popular Front coalition with other groups on the left resonated with the Depression-driven anger and paranoia of many Americans, especially in cities like Boston and New York with large communities of lower- and lower-middle class Irish Catholics, who tended to be shut out of other right-wing movements precisely because they were Irish and Catholic. At his peak, Coughlin had tens of millions of listeners to his Sunday radio sermons, a million readers of his weekly magazine Social Justice, and received millions of dollars in small donations.

By 1938, rabid anti-Semitism had become the centerpiece of Coughlin’s message. That year, at a Christian Front rally in The Bronx, he allegedly gave the Nazi salute and declared, “When we get through with the Jews in America, they’ll think the treatment they received in Germany was nothing.” In Social Justice he reprinted the anti-Semitic hoax The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, which also topped Henry Ford’s list of favorite reading. In the autumn of 1938, when Coughlin said the Jews had brought Kristallnacht on themselves, radio stations, including WMCA in New York, dropped him. Several thousand Fronters “picketed the station, its advertisers, and Jewish-owned stores throughout the city,” historian Robert A. Rosenbaum writes. “The pickets returned every Sunday afternoon for many months. In the meantime, gangs of Christian Fronters roamed the streets and subways, peddling copies of Social Justice, distributing anti-Semitic leaflets, and orating on street corners, while harassing and assaulting people they took to be Jewish.” The city’s police force, which was nearly two-thirds Irish, turned a blind eye; some number of them were Christian Frontiers themselves.

The Front thrived in parishes in all of New York City’s boroughs. Some of the first Front meetings took place in a church hall near Columbus Circle, and some of the most frequent and well-attended were in The Bronx. In Brooklyn, Father Francis Joseph Healy, the pastor of the St. Joseph’s parish in Prospect Heights, was also the editor of the Brooklyn diocese’s weekly paper, The Tablet, which he made a platform for extremely anti-Communist, pro-Fascist, and pro-Coughlin thought. After Father Healy’s death in 1940, his managing editor Patrick Scanlan continued the paper’s reactionary slant. Scanlan ran Coughlin’s rants on the front page. Healy’s successor at St. Joseph’s, Father Edward Curran, was also a major supporter of Father Coughlin and other pro-Fascist and isolationist groups. During the war in Spain Father Curran wrote dozens of pro-Franco columns for arch-conservative publications around the country.

By 1939 small cells of Fronters in Manhattan and Brooklyn were calling themselves “sports clubs,” though the only sport they practiced was target shooting at rifle ranges. The Guardsmen in the group evidently pilfered the rifles and ammo from their posts, and trained other Frontiers in how to use them.  

Along with the cops and Guardsmen, the Front cells were also peppered with spies. The FBI had informants keeping tabs on them. Two independent investigators would write very successful books in which they claimed to have infiltrated the Front as well, and dozens of other underground hate groups. Richard Rollins’ I Find Treason would be published by William Morrow in 1941; John Roy Carlson’s similar Under Cover would be a runaway bestseller for E. P. Dutton two years later, galloping through 16 printings in its first six months. Both writers used pseudonyms. Carlson was actually Arthur Derounian, an Armenian immigrant. Rollins was apparently Isidore Rothberg, an investigator for Congressman Samuel Dickstein of the House Special Committee on Un-American Activities. Partly because the writers used pseudonyms while naming scores of individuals they claimed were pro-Hitler and pro-Fascist, both books were widely denounced on the right as fabrications and smear campaigns. 

Derounian wrote that he was riding the subway one day in 1938 when he picked up a leaflet of “bitterly anti-Semitic quotations” published by something called the Nationalist Press Association on East 116th Street in Italian East Harlem. He decided to research, and found himself exploring a vast underground world of wannabe Hitlers and Mussolinis, society matron super-patriots, racists, Anglophobes, White Russians, and assorted conspiracy theorists and kooks.  Born in 1909, Derounian had grown up in another world of hate. After struggling to stay alive as Armenians in Greece at a time of chaos and slaughter in the Balkans, his family fled to New York in 1921. Arthur learned English and earned a degree in journalism at NYU in 1926. In 1933 he learned that the turmoil in the Balkans had followed him across the ocean, when the archbishop of New York’s Armenian Orthodox Catholics, while serving Christmas Mass in his Washington Heights church, was stabbed to death by radical Armenian nationalists opposed to his politics.

So when Derounian read that hate sheet on the subway in 1938, he was primed to follow up. The 116th Street address was an old tenement with a barber shop on the ground floor. The Nationalist Press “office” was a dingy back room stacked to the stained ceiling with right-wing books, newspapers and pamphlets. Poking around in the gloom were a few Italian men and Peter Stahrenberg, a tall blond Aryan type “with blunt features and a coarse-lipped, brutal mouth,” who wore a khaki shirt and a black tie with a pearl-studded swastika tie tack. Stahrenberg was the publisher of the National American, a pro-Hitler newspaper whose striking logo was an American Indian giving the Nazi salute before a large swastika. He was also the head of the American National-Socialist Party. Derounian, calling himself George Pagnanelli and expressing interest in the “patriotic movement,” wormed his way into Stahrenberg’s confidence.

As he explored Stahrenberg’s twilight world, Derounian claimed, he found pro-Nazis and pro-Fascists all over New York City, holding meetings and rallies in every borough. It was a topsy-turvy world where street thugs from the city’s poorest neighborhoods mingled with wealthy Park Avenue crackpots, and Irish Catholic Fronters convinced that Communism was an international Jewish plot sat in the same meetings with Protestant zealots convinced that the Vatican was a Jewish front. He met rabidly anti-Communist D.A.R. socialites, and retired military officers who were certain that FDR and the Jew Dealers were leading the nation to ruin. He met the prominent conservative organizer Catherine Curtis, introducing himself as George Pagnanelli; she kept calling him Mr. Pagliacci. He even found black pro-Nazis in Harlem. Some were attracted by Hitler’s anti-Semitism; others simply cheered the idea of a white man making trouble for other whites.

When the Christian Front clique was arraigned in Brooklyn’s federal courthouse in February, they all pleaded not guilty to charges of conspiracy and theft of government property. The lawyer for 12 of them was Leo Healy – Father Healy’s brother. A crowd jeered and booed as they were perp-walked into the courthouse. Winchell and La Guardia both derided them as “bums,” La Guardia adding that if they were the best the enemies of democracy could muster, no one need lose any sleep. But the defendants also had their sympathizers. Father Curran was the keynote speaker at a large rally in Prospect Hall to express support for them.

Fourteen defendants were left when the trial began in April; one of the original 18 had committed suicide, and charges against three others were dropped. As the trial sputtered along through May, it began to appear that the FBI and prosecutors hadn’t built a very strong case. When the proceedings stumbled to a close on Monday June 24, the jury acquitted nine of the defendants and pronounced themselves hung on the other five. 

It was a major embarrassment for Hoover. The Front and their supporters cheered it as a great victory, and would continue to spread hate and violence well into the war years. Through 1942 and 1943 there would be numerous reports in the press of roving gangs of young men, mostly identified as Irish and affiliated with the Front, beating and sometimes even knifing Jews in neighborhoods like Flatbush, Washington Heights and the South Bronx, where Irish and Jewish communities abutted. Many shops, synagogues and cemeteries were vandalized. Jewish leaders pleaded with Mayor La Guardia and Police Commissioner Valentine, but they took little action.

Coughlin would rant on into 1942, when the federal government shut down Social Justice as a seditious publication, and the Archbishop of Detroit finally ordered him to stop all political activity. Father Curran, however, continued undeterred, making anti-Semitic, anti-war speeches to Frontiers and others through the entire war.

by John Strausbaugh

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furyasyourguide · 3 years

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Hey! Hey! It’s ya girl fury as your guide! You are either here from google or you saw my youtube video. Don’t worry. It’s at the bottom of my page Either way, Welcome! Here’s some key points and animal recipes from gameplay guide on how to with these chickens in the Cottage Living Expansion Pack in the Sims 4 franchise. If you aren’t careful they will stress you out. We will cover how to buy them, how to raise them, feed and mate them, harvesting eggs and how you can make money off of them, and all points in between. I’ll be adding pictures. Bare with me. I’m just getting started here!

First we are going to talk about stuff to help set you up to prosper as a chicken farmer, then we will get into the meat and potatoes of dealing with these chickens.

Picking Traits

You can really set yourself up for a better gameplay experience by giving your sims certain trains in Create-A-Sim that support what you will be doing in your gameplay. If you are going to be an athlete, select traits like being athletic. These are traits that I love to select when it comes to being the best chicken farmer I can be:

The Animal Enthusiast

The Animal Enthusiast trait helps you to bond and build relationships with animals way faster than if you don’t. The better the relationship that you and any other members of your household have with them the better. It does help contribute with the outcome of your animals products that they make. So make sure that not just you, but other members of your household are cool with those chickens. If I picked any trait it would be this one if I expect to have animals to harvest products from.

The Green Fiend & Loves Outdoors

Now these aren't necessary for raising chickens and whatnot, but they can be very helpful and I will explain why! You will be outside a LOT if you have animals to harvest from. Selecting the Green Fiend trait if you live in a neighborhood that isn’t polluted gives you +2 Happy Moodlets for breathing fresh air just by being outdoors, and doing things like doing green activities such as upgrading your appliances with eco parts. It usually boosts your inspiration. Since you’ll be outside caring for your chickens you get free inspiration that you don’t have to do anything for like browsing art on the pc, or needing to be a foodie just to get inspiration from getting recipe ideas from the pc or tv. The same with Loves Outdoors trait because it also gives you +2 Happy Moodlets. If you are into canning, cooking, writing, painting, knitting, cross stitch or pretty much anything that being inspired helps then I suggest these because you’ll be outside often. So why not rack up on FREE inspiration? If your neighborhood’s eco footprint aint hitting on much then I don’t suggest eco fiend, but usually I have no issue with it in Henford-On-Bagley which is the new neighborhood in Cottage Living. Let’s take a look at the neighborhood map while we are talking about it because their are shops that are hidden in town that will help you prosper with dealing with these chickens. These are just things that you can do before you start dealing with them to help get you ahead.

The Grocery and Garden Shops

The Grocery and Garden Shops are stands located by the bar at the Gnomes Arms at the bottom of the map, but they don’t tell you that bs. They are both open from 9am-7pm. You can get produce and ingredients to cook with which you will need if you are making certain animal treats, make foods with the Simply Living Lot Challenge enabled, to help cut on costs with food and craftables. You can also buy a limited variety of animal treats.

I know that this video is about dealing with these chickens, but you will need various produce and ingredients to make animal treats with. Treats allow you to get a different color of wool, a variety of eggs, and an assortment of milk flavors. You can extend the life of your animals, and even help socialize and boost your animal relationships. You can even get a golden egg to resell, use in recipes or to get the coveted golden chicken.

Unfortunately you can only get a limited variety of treats, and limited quantities of them at a time from the Garden Shop. I suggest buying some treats in advance so you can unlock the recipe to make them when you start working with your animals. You unlock treat recipes by feeding a treat to an animal from your inventory, running some errands with the locals, or from getting buddy buddy with the area wildlife and sometimes they will put you up on game by giving you a recipe.

You can come back here and buy the produce and stuff that you will need. I suggest that you grow and make the ingredients for your treats yourself because the shops are highway robbery at it’s Sims finest. Sim capitalism in this game is alive and well. So if you have the coin, I recommend that you get some friendly treats if you have the cash because they are definitely a big help when you are starting out.

Buying Chickens

To purchase chickens you just click on it. You’ll at least need a hen and a rooster to make hatchable eggs that turn into chicks. If you got it like that, go ahead and cop a hen and rooster chick. That way you can start them out young and build a relationship with them early on. So when they are old enough to mate and reproduce you have a better chance at quality eggs. Even your favorites can disappoint you, but trust me. It definitely helps.

Hens go for $150 and roosters are $200. I don’t know who came up with that, but I wont choose violence for the sake of this lil’ guide. They come in a variety of colors, but they don’t really affect the outcome of the eggs unless it’s a hatchable egg that you don’t have to use. You can resell them. I prefer to have a variety of them so I can differentiate between them. You can even name them, which is funny to me.

Taking Care of Your Chickens

Hover over a chicken. This bubble will basically tell you how your chicken is doing.Keep the coop clean. Feed em. Make sure to give your chicken attention. Those are the basic requirements. Let’s talk a more on how.

Clean Up!

Cleaning the coop is easy. You just hover over it to see what it’s status is. The bubble will tell you your capacity, if and how many eggs are ready to be collected, how clean it is, how many chickens you have, and a break down of them. It will give you an option to clean it if it’s even slightly dirty, which usually happens after they have eggs.

Feeding chickens in the game is easy. You just click on the coop, and click scatter feed nearby.

How to Feed Them

It’ll cost you $4 each time you feed them. Make sure that you feed them enough to give every chicken some grub. If you have half a coup or less, one throw is enough. If your coop is full then give them 2. If you are leaving the house or plan on being busy, then make sure you have feed on the ground in advance even if they are full just in case. They ARE bird brains, and sometimes your hen wont come out even though it’s starving. You can scatter the food on the ground then call the hen out. It’ll see the feed and get with the program, OR you can click it and feed the ones who are hungry.

Attention Starved

The hardest part of taking care of these things is giving them attention. I’m not a fan of it. Make sure that they are content by clicking on the chicken and either clicking on the top option which changes, or click socialize then on the various options that suit you. You can also increase your relationship with friendly treats and the animal’s social motive with the animal party treats. We will talk more about treats, but if you give them these it’ll help increase your relationship with them and increase their attention.

If you do all of this and make sure that you AND your household members are good with the animals then you will have quality eggs, including special eggs of different colors, and hatchable ones that may still disappoint you with a normal quality. The quality is up to you depending on how much work you are willing to put in. Typically they will be eggcellent. Get it? I crack myself up. Lemme stop with the chicken jokes. If you don’t take care of them it will be a real situation down the road. I could make a joke about getting to the other side, but we are just going to move on to how these chickens will move on if you don’t take good care of them.

Your animals WILL complain to you if they aren’t satisfied with how you are running the joint. If they DO run off its usually just one. It’ll come back if you clean up your act and get it together.

Trade a chicken. Go ahead. You know you want to.

These chickens DO age, so if the Grim Reaper pulls up with the stick then you can’t come back from that. They’ll let you know when your bird is getting on up there in years. You can trade any of them for a variety of stuff if you can bare the pain from the sadness moodlet you will get from the betrayal. Now. If you don’t see when the Grim Reaper comes because you are doing something that isn’t near the chicken or you are asleep or something then you don’t get a sadness moodlet. If you witness it then you’ll still be upset and you gets NOTHING. So I recommend trading the bird before it’s too late.

You can trade a chicken for white meat, which is pretty obvious. You can also trade it in for animal treats, a lil produce and ingredients to cook with, or you can take the cash and do the race. Chicks can’t be traded for chicken meat, but let’s do a quick trade real quick so you can see how it goes down.

These Animal Treats, Honey

So let’s talk about these animal treats. This can be more stressful than dealing with them birds sometimes. You do NOT get the animal treat recipe off bat. You have to feed them a treat from your inventory, get it from running errands for the locals, or by befriending critters like rabbits and birds and hope that they’ll put you on game by giving you an animal treat recipe. They give you a gift each day if you ask them, and sometimes it’s some absolute bs. Often times you get a treat recipe. So you can’t make them until you unlock them. Once you unlock the recipe, I beg of you to start growing the crops or working on the needed items to make treats because it will be a big help. Buying ANYTHING in the Garden and the Grocery Shop is highway robbery like I stated before bestie, and I don’t respect it. So if you would like a leg up on getting the ingredients together in advance to save on costs then go to my site itsyagirlfury.com for info from this video, quick tips and animal treat recipes to have everything you need beforehand. You can click on the fridge, the coop or animal shed to make animal treats if you have the ingredients for the ones that you have recipes for. If not? Forget about it.

To feed a treat to an animal you simply click the animal, click give a treat, select what you have available and that’s that.

So what do these treats do? A lot. They can boost your relationship and attention when you socialize with your birds. They can extend their lives.They can intentionally get you different colored eggs, like the rainbow egg which is a LOT to deal with. A rainbow egg of excellent quality is a smooth $200 so it is what it is. Not only does the golden treat get you a golden egg, but it can turn a chicken into the coveted golden chicken which is a financial blessing. An excellent quality egg is $300, and a hatchable golden egg is $450. It’s a madd decent hustle if you have them turning out golden eggs like in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

The golden chicken also improves anything it’s around. Sometimes it’ll just do it on it’s own. I keep mine locked in a gate so they aren’t just roaming all over during their waking hours or so the fox doesn’t move in for the kill. So they are often near my garden, and will just improve stuff on it’s own. ‘Preciate it homie. You can also click on it, and ask it for help.

Let tell you about the real MVP though. My evil chicken. She originally was a white chicken. One day I looked, and she was evil. She’s not necessarily evil. They can keep their loved ones from dying. They can even ward off vampires, foxes and the Grim Reaper. They WILL fight the Grim Reaper, but he will hide until it catches the chicken slippin, then go and get what it came for. So it is what it is.

Animal Treat Recipes

Animal Party Treat -Improves social motive. Required:any mushroom or veggie.

Chocolatey Animal Treat- Makes brown wool, chocolate eggs, or chocolate milk. Required: custard, chocoberry.

Fishy Protein Animal Treat- Gives an extra wool, egg or milk. Required: any fish.

Flirty Animal Treat- pink wool, a hatchable egg, strawberry milk. Required: Strawberry Jam, sugar.

Friendly Animal Treat- positive boost to the animal’s relationship with a sim. Required: any fruit or veggie.

Fruity Animal Treat- Makes blue wool, a blue egg, or enriched milk. Required: Apple jam, Blueberry jam.

Golden Animal Treat- gold wool, turns a hen into a golden chicken, golden honey milk. Required: a golden egg, cowberry or honey.

Healthy Animal Treat- extends lifespan of an animal. Required: any fruit or veggie and lettuce.

Midnight Animal Treat- black wool, obsidian egg, or an evil chicken. Beware! Required: cowberry jam, obsidian egg.

Pumpkin Animal Treat- orange wool,pumpkin spice milk, orange egg. Required: pumpkin, sugar.

Rainbow Animal Treat- rainbow wool, rainbow milk, rainbow egg. Required: blue egg, green egg, orange egg.

Spicy Animal Treat- red wool, fire milk, obsidian egg. Required: spicy mushroom, any veggie.

Veggie Animal Treat- green wool, green eggs, mighty plant milk for lactose intolerant sims. Required: aubergine, lettuce.

Some Bonus Chicken Nuggets

Now. A few things that I have found to be helpful so we can wrap this up: I’ve found it to be helpful to make sure that you have lighting near them. So if it’s dark it’s easier to see them.

Speaking of lamps, I keep the warming lamp near my animals so when I go near them I am kept warm if it’s cold outside, and I also get a +1 Happy Moodlet from it. She loves being outdoors so she doesn’t get cold. It’s not the same reason why Cardi B says that people don’t get cold.

Keep ‘em “cooped up”

If you don’t want your birds just roaming around all the time or to protect them from foxes then keep your gate locked. Click on it and click lock and for all chickens. If they aren’t in one then put them in one.

Put your eggs in the fridge if you plan on keeping them. If it’s perishable, put it in the fridge to keep it for longer.

The calendar shows what competitions will be held at the Finchwick Fair every Saturday from 3:30-9:30pm. I suggest not going early because they don’t judge you until later. The calendar tells you what two entries they are accepting so you can prepare. If your chicken showed out, and you think you have a chance to win then go enter and win one of those trash prizes lol. The ribbons are cute, though.

This expansion pack is stressful, but it’s fun. It’s definitely one of my favorites. If you have any other chicken tips or if you are a sims streamer then please leave that in the comments. My socials are itsyagirlfury everywhere on social media platforms. Or you can go to my site itsyagirlfury.com to find me. I’m getemgirlfriday on twitch. That’s also in the bio and at my site. I’d love to have you. I mostly play the sims and it goes down.

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#sims4 cottage living #sims4 #sims 4 #chickens cottage living #animals cottage living #sims 4 chickens #chickens #sims 4 animal treats #animal treats #evil chicken #golden chicken #cottage living guide #sims 4 cottage living #sims 4 guide #sims 4 cottage living guide #sims 4 help #cottage living #cottange living chickens

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mesbaskets · 3 years

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Dunk Low Sunset Pulse: bientôt disponible

La Dunk Low Sunset Pulse jouit d’une esthétique rétro très vive en couleurs. Si vous êtes amateurs de flashy, cette paire sera à votre goût. Conçue principalement pour les femmes, elle ne manquera cependant pas d’attirer sur elle les regards de tous amateurs de sneakers. Le confort à vos pieds est garantie vous offrant un déplacement aisé en milieu urbain.

Bref aperçu des origines des paires Dunks

Les paires de Dunk constituent l’un des modèles les plus vendus sur kikikickz. Grâce à une culture de la qualité, une livraison en toute authenticité, ainsi qu’un système de paiement facile et sécurisé, le site a démocratisé l’accès à ces modèles aux fans français de la sneakers.

Le dunk au basket-ball est une action qui consiste à se déplacer sur le parquet le ballon en main afin de s’approcher du panier ou de l’arceau et d’abattre avec vigueur dans celle-ci le ballon à une ou deux mains. Il existe autant de formes de dunks que de dunkers. Citons en exemple la légende Shaquille O’neal et ses incroyables dunks capables de casser les paniers dans les années 90 en NBA. Mais c’était une autre époque, une autre histoire.

De nos jours, la technologie a permis d’avoir des paniers beaucoup plus résistants et les dunks sont toujours aussi incroyables. C’est autour des années 80 que naissent les premiers Nike Dunk dans leur catégories Low et High en milieu sportif professionnel pour permettre aux athlètes d'être plus performants.

S’en sont suivis d’autres sous diverses déclinaisons, avec la démocratisation des chaussures de sports, les faisant passer du milieu strictement professionnel au milieu urbain. Aujourd’hui nous avons des Dunk Low dans pleins de coloris différents et elles font partie des modèles les plus mis en collaboration.

Cette année encore des versions incroyables de Dunk Low sont encore sorties et de belles sorties sont encore à venir.

Il faut dire que si les Dunk Low bénéficient d’autant de coloris,avec autant de motifs différents sans qu’elles ne soient pas agressives visuellement c’est parce que le design et silhouette basse s’y prête idéalement.

Vous aurez donc l’embarras du choix en ce qui concerne celle à porter pour vos activités quotidiennes. Elles se vendent donc bien.

Différentes paires ont été introduites dans diverses secteurs ( sous diverses couleurs personnalisées, avec l’impulsion sans cesse innovante d’une des géantes du secteur, Nike jusqu’à celle qui nous intéresse aujourd’hui: la Dunk Low Sunset Pulse.

Une silhouette attrayante haute en couleurs

La Dunk Low Sunset Pulse tout comme ses prédécesseurs possède une apparence vive colorée, une forme linéaire, aplatie avec des extrémités légèrement relevées, ce qui la distingue des Dunk High. Elle est taillée carrément pour plaire. Sunset signifie en francais “coucher de soleil”. Nous avons tous dans notre vie assisté à un coucher de soleil. J'espère que vous voyez ou je veux en venir. Si Nike a choisi d’inclure Sunset dans le nom de cette paire c’est parce que ses colorways vifs sont à l’image des déclinaisons colorées que donne le soleil à son coucher. Bon à savoir donc !

Les swooshs en motifs argentés, des semelles réconfortantes, des lacets résistants et une forme avant légèrement arrondie sont les caractéristiques premières de cette nouvelle paire que vous pourrez retrouver bientôt dans nos boutiques.

Zoom sur la Dunk Low Sunset Pulse

Chaussure droite

Une semelle intermédiaire couleur blanche

Un embout en deux parties avec une première couleur bleue et une seconde rosée

Un revêtement vert

Une semelle à couleur rouge

Des lacets roses

Une tige à couleur rouge

Une semelle intérieure café

Une languette jaune

Des oeillets ornées d’une plaque argentée

La bande extérieure et l’étiquette Nike argentées

La bande Nike intérieure verte

Un support talon violet

Chaussure gauche

Une semelle intermédiaire couleur blanche

Un embout rouge

Un revêtement violet

Une semelle à couleur verte

Des lacets verts

Une tige bleue

Une semelle intérieure café

Une languette bleu ciel

Des oeillets ornées d’une plaque argentée

La bande extérieure et l’étiquette extérieure Nike argentées

La bande intérieure Nike violette

Un support talon rose

Durabilité et confort

Les Dunk Low sont très appréciés du grand public. Début 2020,sortait la Nike SB Dunk Low Travis Scott, fruit de la collaboration entre Nike et le rappeur Travis Scott . Cette paire fit grande sensation. Autant vous dire que les Dunk Low sont très à la mode actuellement.

Elles sont résistantes et procurent une sensation de confort agréable pour les pieds et les talons et la Dunk Low Sunset Pulse n’est pas en reste.Taillées pour le confort, les fans y trouveront leurs aises quelque soit leur pointure.

Stabilité et maintien

Longtemps craint par les gens parce qu’elles ne garantissaient pas suffisamment de protection aux chevilles, les paires basses sont aujourd’hui très appréciées. Grâce aux progrès technologiques incessants de Nike, les impacts et chocs sont mieux amortis. Notre Dunk Low Sunset Pulse n’en fait pas exception. De plus, les paires basses offrent une plus grande liberté de mouvement par rapport aux autres types de sneakers.

En résumé, la Dunk Low Sunset Pulse n’est pas une paire qui aura l'assentiment de toute la clientèle Nike en raison de ses couleurs vives, certaines personnes privilégiant la sobriété, mais à 160 euros vous avez un bon argument pour vous la procurer à coup sûr n’est ce pas ?

Rendez-vous donc sur kikikickz , le site des bons achats pour vous offrir et offrir à vos proches ce nouveau modèle. Le site met tout en place de l’achat à la livraison afin de vous permettre de profiter du plaisir du shopping en ligne.

Bon cop !

#kikikickz #nike dunk

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thenixkat · 3 years

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HCs and OCs for a fic

Toyomitsu family: Descended from one of the first giant mutants in Japan. Tend to have monster or animal related transformation quirks in addition to being huge. Own farmland and forested areas all over the Kansai region. The family founded the Devil’s Market yakuza group which has been extremely long-running and focused on buying and selling illicit goods, general goods, and general supplies and labor for larger people. A Toyomitsu has been either the boss or first lieutenant of the Devil’s Market for as long as it’s existed. They had to move out of their Osaka base when All For One set up shop, their current main base of operations is in Esuha city. The family also runs a franchise of butcher shops across most of Japan under the name of Oni Meats which carries a vast selection of animal protein from around the world. Nearly all members of the family have prey drives from their monstrous transformations.

Ma- Manami- (Quirk) Bugbear- transformation quirk. If the user is sufficiently fat then they can transform into a hybrid bear/reptile monster. Has great senses and night vision as well as enhanced strength. Can induce fear by staring someone directly in the eyes. -->Prefers not to be involved with the less legal dealings of the family and Devil’s Market. She’s more than capable of being as much of if not more a terrifying mob boss than her little brother. She just likes farming better. -->Generally doesn’t look people in the eyes unless she doesn’t like them b/c her terror-inducing power stays active regardless of her form. She prefers not to scare folks who don’t deserve it. -->Gets on very well with her sister-in-law, if she wasn’t married she’d steal her brother’s wife. -->Met her husband in a fighting ring. She eviscerated him with her claws and he broke one of her arms and several of her ribs. They started talking while getting patched up. -->Is about 7’10” and built like a well-padded brick house. -->Is the one who judges new recruits into the gang. Tends to have them do farm work for at least a month to get a bead on their personalities.

Pa- Noel ‘Blue Devil’ Diablo nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Energy absorption- emitter quirk. Can absorb, temporarily store, and redirect kinetic/thermal/electric energy. Too much energy kept in the body for too long causes reckless and impulsive behavior and hyperactivity. Devil- mutant quirk. Has devil-like horns and a tail. -->Used to be a nomad b4 settling down with his strong beautiful wife. Supported himself on his travels with fighting, gambling, handyman skills, and musical skills. -->Brings nothing to the table in his household other than his good looks, good nature, and knack for fixing things and a broad range of skills. -->Holding in excess energy makes him glow blue, especially his horns. -->Loves his family just so much. Is the goofy dad and great flirty husband. -->Loved to carry his kids until they got waaaay too big for him to pick up. Stands on a char to talk to his kids and wife on their level. B/c they are just so damn tall. -->Is 6 ft tall with a strong build with very little body fat b/c of a side effect of his quirk. He gets cold easily b/c of this and it bothers his joints.

Grandpa- Ryuji ‘The Dragon/ Dread Emperor of Giants’ - (Quirk) Dragon- transformation quirk. Can transform into an eastern dragon or humanoid eastern dragon with the severity of the transformation depending on percentage of body fat. Can also control the weather. -->Controlling the weather means that his farms never have a bad year. He does sell this service on the black market through the Devil’s Market. -->Wanted to be a hero when he was young and stopped when his mom got sent to jail for vigilantism and murder for stopping a serial killer from preying on women in the community -->Retired after a betrayal from some too ambitious underlings lead to a crippling knee injury. Still acts as a source of wisdom for the family and the gang. -->Is the go-to babysitter. -->Prefers to be in his transformed state and hates the anti-public quirk use laws with a passion. -->His full dragon form is as long as a bus and can fly. His humanoid dragon form/human form (sans antlers) is 8’5”

Grandma- Akane- (Quirk) None. -->An ex-mercenary who beat Ryuji in his prime AND in his full dragon form with nothing but some rope and her bare hands. -->Very good with guns and knives -->Takes advantage of the fact that as a plump quirkless woman she tends to get overlooked by people with powers to end fuckers. -->Was the one who got rid of the over-ambitious underlings who attempted a coup against her husband. -->Is about 5’10”, very chubby, wears glasses, and is rather soft-spoken. -->Is an icon to the quirkless members of the Devil’s Market and teaches them how to fight people with powers.

Uncle- Wani ‘The Butcher’- (Quirk) Crocodilian- transformation quirk. Similar to grandpa but crocodile instead of dragon. Has a great sense of smell and hearing as well as night vision. Is bulletproof at full strength. -->A strong proponent of community defense to the point where more people came to him about community issues than go to police or heroes. He gets problems handled permanently. -->Also heavily invested in technology and occult studies to see if there was a way to make life easier for people -->Also prefers to be in his transformed state -->Caught and ate 3 quirk diagnosing doctors in the area who were trafficking children into human experimentation. Managed to rescue most of the kids. -->Was arrested and sent to Tartarus for a string of killing corrupt cops and heroes fucking around in his neighborhood. His family often visits him. -->Fell for his wife when she bet him she could drink him under the table with the loser paying the tab. She won. -->Is about 8 ft tall and at least half as wide b4 going to jail. In prison he rapidly lost weight, the family is planning a jailbreak.

Auntie- Jay ‘Jaybird/Hummingbird’ Johnson nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Fast Twitch- emitter quirk. A speedster type. Can move and think at superhuman speeds for a few minutes at a time every hour. Has a very high metabolism and needs to consume large amounts of food in general. -->Was a villain before settling down. Still pulls off a robbery every now and then and has a fondness for gems. -->A Black American who came to Japan to hide from law enforcement after a heist gone wrong. -->Thinks that the way people throw the word villain around to just about any fucker committing any kind of crime while using a quirk really dilutes the word. Thinks that villains need fun costumes and proper themes and intent. -->Her sister-in-law was one of the first women she’s ever met who never criticized her eating habits and she would kill for the other woman. Ride or die friendship. -->Is constantly hungry due to her speedster metabolism and has to eat a lot. -->About 5’8” and leggy with plenty of visible muscle.

Sister- Onini ‘Oni/Gargoyle’- (Quirk) Gargoyle- transformation quirk. Can transform into a stone-skinned gargoyle with the severity of the transformation being dependant on amount of body fat. Heat Sink- emitter quirk. Can absorb, store, and release thermal energy. -->Tried to become a hero but was bullied out of school -->Named after one of her mom’s friends -->Considers cousin Kenji to be effectively one of her brothers -->Became a firefighter and uses her quirks on the job even tho it’s illegal. Not like the people she’s saving are gonna complain. -->Tends to flirt with strong women. -->Actually tends to stay partially transformed b/c she likes having a tail and passes herself off as a mutant -->If she gets too hungry and loses control she can become a heat vampire and freeze things to death while feeding on their body heat. -->Spends a lot of time helping out on the farm and her mother is most likely to pass ownership of the family land to her once she retires. -->The most likely person in her generation of the family to have biological kids. --->Keeps teasing Fatgum about when he’s gonna officially adopt his interns. -->Is about 7’5” and technically is too heavy to fly but she glides pretty well.

Cousin- Kenjiro ‘Kenji/Ken/Shuten’- (Quirk) Fast Oni- transformation quirk. Can transform into an oni with enhanced speed and strength. Transforming causes his metabolism to speed up and he burns fat to stay in oni form. Has a speedster metabolism in regular form, if he doesn’t eat a substantial meal every 5 hours he starts losing weight (fat and muscle) rapidly and is consequently always hungry. -->Would love to stay in his transformed form but can’t due to the timer. -->Is jealous of Taishiro’s height and metabolism so he makes fun of the way Tai’s face looks when he’s transformed. Also jealous of Onini’s ability to not be constantly hungry. -->Is constantly hungry from the day his quirk came in and had to take appetite suppressants during puberty to keep from losing his head and chowing down on anything and anyone in reach during his growth spurts. -->Has been mistaken for Fatgum more than once due to their similar-ish size and clothing choices. It frustrates him to no end b/c he’s way darker than Tai and prefers wearing blue or white. -->Has intentionally eaten people. Most notable example being him ending a war with a rival yakuza group by capturing, butchering, and cooking the rival leader and openly serving him for dinner at the peace treaty/gang merger. -->Strongly supports Fatgum as a hero and the two combine resources to help the community whether that is through funding housing for the homeless or getting a very good tailor the resources to make clothing for specific clientele or sending the other to deal with a situation appropriately. -->Brings a knife to a gunfight b/c he’s a superstrong speedster and a gun ain’t go do shit if you ain’t got no hands. -->Thinks Overhaul is a stupid asshole b/c it’s not that hard to get blood out of a kid or train a kid to be ok with it. -->Is about 7’10” and has heard every short joke under the sun from Tai

Fatgum-Taishiro ‘Tai’- (Quirk) Fat Absorption- Transformation quirk into an uncanny valley cartoony blob man that is as strong as the amount of body fat he has. Can absorb, neutralize, or release kinetic energy. Eyes glow in the dark like a cartoon when his quirk is active. Has a great sense of taste and is incapable of feeling sated/is always hungry. Also has an extremely efficient digestive system that breaks food down in seconds. Can also convert fat into muscle as well as generally having enhanced strength and speed while transformed. -->Was a late bloomer. His quirk didn’t start coming in till he was 8 and it took a while b4 he was fat enough for it to have notable effects. -->Preferred being in his skinnier form during middle and high school due to bullying and self-esteem issues that he didn’t work through until his early twenties. -->Started high school at 5’7” (170 cm) at 14 yrs old and was 8’2 (250 cm) when he graduated at 18 yrs old. Puberty was hell and pants were his enemy. -->Had a friend in hero support who took it as a personal challenge to make him clothing that he couldn’t destroy, that would grow and shrink with him, and that he couldn’t outgrow heightwise either. Ended up inventing ‘indestructible pants’ and making bank. -->Does not have canine teeth due to a mutation related to his quirk. Does have several rows of teeth that can replace themselves like a shark’s due to the same mutation. The fuckery of his mouth is only really noticeable if he’s ‘stretching’/pushing his transformation to its fullest extent or if someone’s feeling around inside of his mouth for whatever reason. -->Does not have a gag reflex -->Has been constantly hungry since his quirk emerged and like Kenji had to take appetite suppressants during his growth spurts to keep control of himself. An asshole classmate once replaced his appetite suppressants with appetite stimulants to see what happens. Several people ended up hospitalized, Taishiro still has nightmares about it and said asshole student actually managed to get expelled. Has a restraining order against said asshole classmate who fucked off to England to be a hero there. -->Is so glad he’s done growing. Went through clothes like water when he was a teen. -->Going several days without getting enough calories in tends to activate his prey drive and he really doesn’t like that b/c heroes shouldn’t murder or maul people. Figured out this aspect when he mauled a bully after his quirk just came in and later during a survival training exercise in hero school in which he ended up eating a live bear after several days of living on trail rations (scared his teammates for life with that one). -->A lot of aspects of his costume with the bright colors and friendly mannerisms is to reduce the intimidation factor/terrifying aspects of his appearance. He is aware that in his transformed state he’s a giant uncanny valley cartoony egg man monster that can fucking absorb people into his body. -->While transformed his limb, mouth, and eye proportions are extremely fluid and change nearly at will. If he wants to his face can be entirely mouth, which he knows is terrifying to other people. His arms and legs can rubber hose it though they aren’t as strong when he does that, does mean he can grab from angles that shouldn’t be possible. -->Was bullied as a kid for being ‘quirkless’ b4 his quirk manifested and then he was bullied for being fat. It did a number on his self-esteem as a teen leading him to prefer using his thinner form as his default. -->His thinner form was considered a heartthrob in school to his frustration. Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the fact people found him hot to make money or flirt a free lunch off of someone. Was in a hot guy calendar made and distributed by one of his classmates. -->It absolutely gets on his nerves when people only find his skinny form attractive. -->After graduation, he lost muscle b/c that starter hero paycheck ain’t shit and the Hero Commission refused to let him write off food costs as business expenses. Had to save his food money for patrols leading to him losing weight. -->Participated in underground fighting rings to both make some money on the side and get better at using his quirk -->Has tried Trigger b4 and carries a small vial of the good version of it just in case he really needs it one day. (Listen, you ain’t finding shit trying to pat down fucking Fatgum) -->While transformed the absorbing things into him thing is automatic, put too much pressure on the flabbier parts of his body and you’ll just sink in. It takes effort to release things and took him a while to learn how to do this as a kid. Before he learned how to release things, he’d just turn off his quirk to get things out of him. -->Was blackmailed into working for the cops after getting caught during a raid of one of the fighting rings he was participating in. Decided to be a double agent and give away info on cases to the Devil’s Market to help them stay ahead of the cops. Also blew a decent chunk of the Osaka police force’s budget on his feeding since they wanted to use him. Ultimately this is what caused the police to break their partnership with him b/c he was too damn expensive to keep on the payroll. -->Once he became decently popular he and the Devil’s Market started funding a superhero trade school to get people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get into hero schools for various reasons trained up and educated enough to get a hero license. -->As a hero he just doesn’t enforce the dumber laws like anti-public quirk use laws b/c who cares if people use their quirks if they aren’t hurting anyone. Also prefers not to label criminals as villains unless they’ve done some truly heinous shit b/c he knows that villains get harsher punishments in the justice system. Is also a strong proponent for rehabilitation for criminals. -->Once got caught in a scandal where he and a close friend and classmate managed to get a quirkless friend of theirs enrolled in their hero school with the help of a hacker. It took months for the school to catch on, during which said quirkless friend excelled in the hero classes. Fatgum and his friend nearly got expelled when caught. Later he helps that quirkless friend get a provisional hero license to become Japan’s first quirkless hero. -->From his family history, to his accent, to his size, to his ancestry Fatgum got torn apart by the media when he first started making waves. It took years but his image as a fun friendly beloved hero won out over ‘loose canon with criminal ties who’ll probably turn villain any day now’ -->Most of his sidekicks are folks he knew in his underground fighting days or rehabilitated criminals. Sidekicks and interns from actual hero schools are picked based on both potential as well as ‘how well can you bend the law/see in shades of grey instead of black and white?’. Essentially interning with Fatgum is a long process of unlearning propaganda and a practical application of morality on a case by case basis. -->Is aware of the hornier corners of his fandom and doesn’t know how to get them to understand that death via snusnu is not a way they want to go out (“How do you know this?” “...No comment.”) and telling them that they would def either die or require medical attention only makes them hornier. He finds it distressing and tries to avoid these people. -->Only found out that his name and birthday were puns when he was in middle school. He was not pleased. His parents had a blast since they were waiting for him to figure it out. -->When transformed his face, hands, feet, knees, and elbows are the most vulnerable parts of his body. Hence the leg armor (and occasionally arm armor). -->Due to his size, he’s got a few glaring blind spots, the main one being that he simply can’t see past his belly when looking down. He has tripped over short people b4 b/c of this. At least one of his friends from school would take advantage of this when he was in his larger form to sneak up on him.

#long post #nix meows #headcanons #my hero academia #fatgum #ocs #aus #probably repeated myself at least once #cannibalism #body horror #cause i know what i'm about

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airjordanlatest · 3 years

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Union x Air Jordan 4 30e anniversaire Desert Moss bientôt disponible

Imaginée par le célèbre designer Tinker Hatfield, pour Michael Jordan, la Jordan 4eme du nom reste l’un des modèles les plus rentables du tandem Nike-Air Jordan et l’un des plus mis en collaboration. Depuis son apparition en 1989, labels, designers, artistes et shops de renom s’y sont tous frottés. Cette nouvelle collab Union LA x Nike quant à elle, est une paire réussie. Partons ensemble à sa découverte.

Un anniverssaire vue en grand avec un des modèles les plus célèbres de la Brand Jordan

Pour donc marquer le coup de ses 30 ans d'anniversaire, le flagship créé en 1981 et piloté par Chris Gibbs a décidé de s’attaquer une nouvelle fois à la Jordan 4. Union LA a travaillé plus exactement sur deux déclinaisons du modèle qui se sont dévoilées dans un pack commémoratif. La release comprend donc en plus du Desert Moss, la Taupe Haze.

Les paires réinventent et remettent une nouvelle fois au goût de la tendance, l’une des silhouettes les plus chic, désirables et bankables de l’attirail Jordan juste derrière les Jordan 1. Faites un tour sur kikikickz et vous pourrez vous procurez TOUS les Air Jordan, des plus rares aux plus ordinaires. Tout y est, une catégorie spéciale y est même consacrée. Et si vous avez du mal à vous décider, un classement par couleurs est là pour vous guider.

Un coloris extraordinaire pour une silhouette de légende

Accompagné d'une étiquette volante dénotant les 30 années d'activité de l'institution autrefois new-yorkaise (et représentant Sidney Poitier dans le rôle de Walter Lee Younger dans "A Raisin in the Sun"), cette nouvelle paire se livre dans une nuance de coloris remarquablement bien choisis. Au même titre que ses prédécesseurs, cette version présente les tons les plus vibrants.

La paire bénéficie de vibrants coloris, violet, jaune pastel et crème clair super efficaces avec des itérations tempérées de bleu turquoise sur les empiècements.

La Desert Moss se pare donc d’une robe en mesh Dark Iris avec des empiècements en daim Desert Moss et des boucles TPU en dentelle translucide présentes au niveau des chevilles. La languette se pare du branding “Air Jordan 4” sur un upper violet en maille. Le patch de languette, le support talon ainsi que le système en retenant le laçage revêtent le bleu turquoise. Les lacets sont faits en toile aux coloris marchés de l’empeigne.

Sous la paire, les détails tout au long de la semelle extérieure optent également pour le coloris jaune vif, mais adoptent simultanément la teinture bleu turquoise ainsi que le ton crème tempérant de la semelle intermédiaire.

La semelle intérieure est d’un jaune vif et porte le Jumpman. L’unité Air de couleur bleu vif de la midsole couleur crème et l’étiquette dorée comprenant les inscriptions UN/ LA cousu sur le côté latéral à coté de la maille latérale complètent le design.

La silhouette haute emblématique de MJ est largement mise en valeur dans cette déclinaison.

Autre particularité c’est la version Retro qu’arbore le design, de quoi faire plaisir aux plus OG d’entre nous.

Ce Desert Moss vient encore plus sceller cette association en une occasion très spéciale.

Union LA x Jordan : Une collab spécial

Le shop californien avait déjà collaboré sur bon nombre de chaussures du Swoosh dont la mythique Air Jordan 1 de 2018.

Les collabs Union x Air Jordan 4, sont très convoitées et généralement difficile à se procurer hors d’Europe.

Début mars 2020, Union Los Angeles, confirmait qu'elle allait travailler intensément avec les équipes de la division Air Jordan 4 de Nike. On s’attendait donc à plus de collaborations avec NIKE cette année.

En Aout 2020, le shop angelino présentait déja une collection Jordan 4 déclinée dans des coloris dénommée “Off Noir” et “Guava Ice”.

L'Air Jordan 4 «Off Noir» intègrait une palette de couleurs similaire à celle des Air Jordan 1 susmentionnées d'Union, tandis que la «Guava» utilise des nuances sélectionnées de «Off Noir», associées à une base «Light Bone». Le Zoom '92 est alors proposé dans le coloris "Guava", tandis que le Delta Mid arrive dans le look "Off Noir".

Cette année à l’occasion de cet anniversaire, les deux comparses nous ont donc concocté un pack digne de l'événement. La Desert Moss et la Taupe Haze qui l’accompagnait sortaient alors cet été 2021.

Comment porter la Air Jordan 4 ?

Les paires montantes comme la Air Jordan se portent mieux avec des ensembles au ton relevée, aux styles bruts et parfois décalés.

Mais cela n'exclut pas d’adopter un look streetwear à votre convenance ou un formal look classique avec.

Les pantalons cargos vous offrent une excellente mise en valeur.

Les jeans, jupe en crayon ou fendu sont également conseillés.

Avec une robe imprimée en fleurs, assortis à un chapeau, un petit sac vous serez au top pour un look estival.

Toujours veiller à ce qu'elles soient le plus visibles possible peu importe l’outfit que vous choisirez.

La Desert Moss est une nouvelle réussite signée Union LA. Le store de Los Angeles nous a une fois encore offert une paire sublime à cop absolument !

La paire sortait exclusivement le 26 Juin dans le shop de Los Angeles et sur le site officiel de Nike. Elle est déjà en rupture de stock sur ce dernier. Les releases ne se faisant pas au même moment en Europe et aux US, elle sortait plus généralement le 8 Juillet 2021 dans le monde.

Et elle sera disponible très bientôt chez kikikickz à un prix avoisinant 250 euros. S’il y’ a bien un shop dans lequel vous pourrez acheter les yeux fermés, ce serait certainement sur ce site. La qualité, l'authenticité ainsi que l’état (paires obligatoirement neuves) des baskets sont garanties à 100%

En espérant que nos astuces pour mieux porter la Desert Moss vous ont étés utiles, nous vous conseillons de tailler votre pointure habituelle.

#air jordan 4 #air jordan

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kaitycole · 4 years

Text

Tiptoeing with Temptation

Summary: Jackson is still reminiscing; Constantine goes to Portavira, Bianca heads back to Texas while Jackson and Eleanor find themselves alone at Valtoria.

Word Count: 3216

Pairings: Constantine x Eleanor, Eleanor x Jackson, Jackson x Bianca

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, mentions of s*x, mention of adultery

A/N: i just want to thank everyone who reads this series and any of my writings. You guys bring such joy into my life and I can never fully repay that. Sorry for the sappiness, I’m a tad emotional right now.

Song Choice: Gravity by Sara Bareilles

Part 14 of WP. To catch up, read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bobasheebaby @bascmve01 @burnsoslow @the-everlasting-dream @ao719 @sirbeepsalot @janezillow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire @hopefulmoonobject @iaminlovewithtrr @cordonianroyalty @rafasgirl23415

The thing about summer is it’s full of heat and passion, but fall always follows and brings cooler weather. And just as sudden as the heat of the royal couple appeared, the coolness fall brings crept in almost as fast.

It had begun as a tiny misunderstanding. Wires got crossed and Constantine misheard Eleanor’s request. The small incident was amplified when Constantine made plans to break the peace treaty between Cordonia and Auvernal due to talks of a coup. While it had been years since she has even stepped foot on Auvernese soil, it was still her home country. A place she assumed he knew was off-limits. She took it personally and decided to hit back.

When Constantine asked for support of a new trade route, which excluded Auvernal, she blocked it. The same when he tried to entertain political engagements for both of the Rys princes. Up until now, the couple had been able to separate business from pleasure, but as the days progressed it started seeping into their personal lives.

“I’m planning on taking the boys with me for the trade summit in Portavira, okay?”

“Are you asking or telling?” She refuses to look at him, keeping her focus on removing her jewelry. The two have been at somewhat of a stalemate for the last three days. He didn’t talk much about his political dealings with her anymore and she found no reason to involve him in hers. Constantine continues to try to mend things, but Eleanor refuses to hear it.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to calm down, she really knew exactly how to get on his last nerve. “I’m trying to see if you would like to join us.”

“No.” She gets up and brushes passed him, walking into the bathroom.

“It would look extremely rude for most of the royal family to go and the queen remains at home. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“But I’m not staying at the palace, so it will simply look as though our plans overlapped. You will send my regards, won’t you?”

Constantine stares at the wall in front of him, truly contemplating bashing his head into it. Or at least finishing the conversation with it, since it just be more talkative than his wife. He hears her turn the shower on and leans against the door frame. “And where pray tell are you going to be?”

Eleanor finishes undressing before she slides the glass door open. She steps in and before sliding it closed answers him, “Valtoria.”

Taking yet another deep breath, he wonders if his father Edgar or his grandfather Augustus ever had moments like this. Arguing with their wives in the bathroom instead of any other room in the whole damn palace. “And why are you going there, my love?”

“I can’t hear you. You’ll have to get in if you wanna talk or you can wait until I’m done.”

Shaking his head, he walks away from the bathroom door and sits on their bed. He couldn’t believe this, he was king of an entire damn country yet he couldn’t get his own wife to just hear him out. He knew that she knew exactly what she was doing, that he’d cave. He always caved for her which was why when she got upset over talk of breaking their peace treaty with Auvernal, he ended the discussion. He did all that for her, but she refused to even hear him out anymore.

Several moments pass before Constantine pushes himself off the bed and storms into the bathroom.

“Why are you going to Valtoria?”

“I told you join me or wait.”

He slams his hand on the sink counter. Losing his cool for the first time in months. He hates that he’s like this again, his anger getting the best of him, “Dammit, Eleanor, could you act like an adult!”

The water immediately cuts off, she opens the door wide enough to pull in her towel before she walks out, fully wrapped in the towel. “Happy?”

“Overjoyed. Please answer my question.”

She sighs as if he’s the one that’s being stubborn, “I’m looking into the budgets of surrounding duchies, seeing if and where I can make cuts.”

“You can’t just reschedule that? Or ask the maids?”

“That’s the cop out way. As queen, I should go.” She brushes out her hair before walking out into their room. “I have already made arrangements, it’d be rude to cancel.”

He knows he isn’t going to win. Her mind is already made up and all he can do is go along with it. “Okay. Have you decided on the guards that will accompany you?”

Her head snaps over to him. That had been the last thing on her mind, typically she always went places with Constantine so she didn’t have to plan such things. She plunks a night gown from her dresser and gets dressed ignoring her husband.

“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll assign a few to your trip.” He walks by her, stopping to kiss her on the cheek. Eleanor watches as he leaves, knowing he’ll just end up sleeping on the couch in his study.

* *

“Are you sure about this?” Jackson looks at Bianca with an uneasy feeling.

“Yes. Tonya needs me, she’s going through a divorce.”

He runs his hand through his hair and down his neck before sighing, “I understand that, but taking the kids?”

“I think they will be good for her. She’s never even met Savannah, so she’d love to spoil them.” She stops packing and looks at him, “Plus, it’d be good for kids to get away from here for a bit.” Bianca has never told him outright, but he knew that she’d been uneasy about his position since the ball and the rumor. She felt that their children would be better away from court life and rumors, no matter how much Drake and Liam enjoyed being friends.

“At least let me go with you. Both kids on a plane won’t be easy.”

“You just took two weeks off not too long ago. We will be fine; I’m used to handling them alone anyways.” She shrugs, Jackson picks up on her subtle jab.

Before he could protest any further, his phone starts ringing. It was a private number, so he knew it was coming from a secured line at the palace.

“I have to take this.” Bianca makes a face before shaking her head, “It’s work.”

“Officer Walker speaking.”

“Could you come in? You have a new assignment.” Bastien asks.

“On my way.” He walks over to his wife and kisses her on the forehead, “I shouldn’t be long.”

* *

“I apologize for the late-night call.” Constantine says as Jackson walks into the study. Bastien and Timothy are already there.

“It’s no trouble at all, sir.” He looks at Timothy who gives him a quick shrug, clearly no one knew why they were called in.

“It appears the queen has decided not to travel to the Portavira summit and instead traveling to Valtoria.”

The three guards share a brief look, it was extremely rare for the royal family to make different trips at the same time. Typically, at least one monarch would stay at the palace to protect the throne; leaving it open was a risk.

“I know it’s untraditional, but the trip is important to her and I was hoping that since Officer Lykel will be accompanying me and the princes, that either Officer Walker or Officer Monroe would travel with Queen Eleanor?”

Neither say anything, the whole situation feels off. Neither wants to get in the middle of whatever was going on between the king and queen.

“I’ll go.” Jackson finally speaks up.

“What about Bianca and the kids?” Timothy says, side eying Jackson.

“She’s taking the children to Texas for a while, so the timing all works out.”

“Would you like a guard sent with them? I don’t mind sending someone.” Constantine asks.

“Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline. Bianca would lose her mind having someone following her.” Jackson gives the king a small smile.

“Officer Lykel. Officer Monroe, you are both dismissed. I need to discuss details with Officer Walker.”

Bastien and Timothy bow and take their leave. Constantine motions for Jackson to take a seat.

“Scotch?” Jackson nods, accepting the second glass that the king pours before Constantine takes his seat again. “I’m actually glad you offered, I know my wife’s safety is important to you.”

For a minute Jackson starts to panic, wondering if the king ended up hearing about Barthelemy’s actual rumor. However, he was quickly reminded of the ‘story’ they told Constantine about why they were alone in her study.

“Of course, your majesty.”

“Let’s talk shop, shall we?”

* *

After talking with Eleanor, Constantine made sure the trip to Valtoria would begin once Bianca got in touch with Jackson saying she made it safely. The entire ride was awkward for both Jackson and Eleanor, the pair hasn’t spoken to each other in weeks.

Typically, whichever guard was on duty would drive, however Constantine assigned a driver as well which meant Eleanor and Jackson sat one seat apart in the back of the town car. Eleanor flips through her planner, making notes while Jackson scrolls on his phone. The silence is broken when it begins to ring, his face turning red.

“It’s Bianca.”

Eleanor looks up and nods before he answers it.

“Hello? Oh, hey Drake, how are you buddy?”

Eleanor’s attention drifts from her planner to Jackson’s conversation. She smiles listening to how he speaks to Drake and how happy he sounds talking to him.

“I know Aunt Tonya can be a lot, but she means well.” Jackson laughs, “Yes, she does talk very loud.”

Jackson turns to Eleanor and mouths ‘I’m sorry’ but she waves him off. She really didn’t mind; she enjoys seeing this side of Jackson, she’s missed it.

“I know you like Bear, but we aren’t getting a dog. When you turn eighteen I’ll get you one. I love you too. Tell your Mom I’ll call back later.”

Eleanor is looking at him when he hangs up, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Bianca’s friend is getting a divorce from my friend. She went there to be supportive.”

Eleanor simply raises her eyebrows before engulfing herself back into her planner. Jackson leans his head back and tries to ignore the weird tension filling the car as they get closer and closer to their destination.

* *

Their first day in Valtoria is awkward. Neither of them speaks to the other, Jackson remains posted outside of whichever room she’s in which was mostly the study where she was reviewing the books. Even though Valtoria didn’t have a duke or duchess in charge, the royal counsel still kept tabs on it. Meaning tomorrow the member of counsel in charge of it would arrive and that was none other than Barthelemy Beaumont.

The second day was more eventful, but still awkward. Jackson stood posted outside the grand hall which was were Eleanor and Barthelemy were chatting about the books. To his and Eleanor’s surprise, he was extremely civil, only making one snide comment: “I should’ve guessed he’d be the guard to accompany you.” Other than that, when he first arrived, he was on his best behavior and while Eleanor didn’t like most of the choices he made with the budget, his reasoning behind them were justified in her eyes. Though he wasn’t pleased when she told him that the Crown would be taking over Valtoria, so he would no longer have access to the duchy.

The next day started off just as icy as the last two, but by dinner warmth crept in. They both ate their meals alone: he ate breakfast before her since he woke first, lunch came after her and dinner wasn’t eaten until she retired for the night. But that night, she grew lonesome and told him that if he was already there, he could just eat with her now. She apologized for her cold shoulder and he acted as though it didn’t bother him. By the end of the meal, the two were buddy buddy again, just as they were during the time they spent each Friday night together.

But on the fourth day, something happened that changes everything. Eleanor is standing on the balcony, looking at the waterfall in the distance when she hears footsteps behind her. A smile spreads across her face as she looks to her side and sees Jackson standing there.

Her chest begins to flutter, feeling something, she hasn’t felt before. When it came to Constantine, she did love him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Even though they had been on better terms lately, she could never see him more than someone she married to have an heir. Constantine gave her the feeling of security, but with Jackson there was more of an adventurous feeling.

Jackson takes Eleanor in, she’s not in her traditional attire. She didn’t have any meetings or any visitors today, so she was wearing straight legged jeans with an oversized V-neck sweater, truly channeling her inner Princess Diana. He likes this version of Eleanor, this laid back and comfortable side of her that he’d give anything to see more of. Tomorrow the two of them will be heading back to the palace, back to queen and guardsman and back to pretending they didn’t feel anything when they looked at each other.

“I’m not ready for tomorrow to come. To go back to our assigned roles.” She says, breaking the silence and turning to look at him. Since they didn’t have anything formal at the duchy, she practically demanded he dressed down for the day. So here he was in a plain white tee, slim-fitting jeans with cowboy boots: a look she didn’t think she’d be into, but couldn’t look away from.

Jackson places a hand on her cheek, caressing it with a callused thumb. He has no comforting words for her, nothing to say to sooth the pain of what tomorrow will bring. Hell, he isn’t sure how he’s going to be able to go back, how he’s supposed to let the woman he loves go.

“If we had somehow met in a different way…a different place. Do you think all of this…could’ve been different…between us?”

Tears begin to form, she tries looking anywhere but at him, “Everything would’ve been different.”

With his hand still on her cheek, he steps closer to her, filling the gap between them. He tilts her head upwards as she leans in, her baby blues pleading with him. Their lips meet instantly, the space between them vanishes as his hand slides to her neck, pulling her completely into him.

Lips part, tongues dance and twirl together as the kiss deepens. It’s not their first kiss, that was back in her boutique and had a sense of urgency to it. That kiss was the first time they made it a point to stand so close to the line that divided them. This kiss is a plea trying to hold on to something that feels fleeting. Breathlessly they part, long enough for her to jump into him; arms and legs wrapping around him as he staggers back against the wall.

His hands tightly grip the bottoms of her thighs, supporting her weight as her lips trail down his neck. A small groan leaves his lips as she softly bites up his neck. He can feel the smile on her lips as he walks them both towards her bed before she untangles herself from him. Piece by piece, clothing is shed, hands fumble together as they eagerly drop the fabric to the floor. She slides herself to the middle of the bed, Jackson lays beside her; their lips meeting once more. Goosebumps cover her skin as Jackson’s fingers lightly trail up and down her side, stopping only briefly to rake his nails against her hip bone. His lips and tongue leave a fiery trail as they explore down her body, exploring every inch of her. A gasp leaves her lips as he kisses the inside of her thigh before he tastes her. His tongue gently explores her folds each flick of his tongue teasing her more.

He takes his time as he slowly works his way back up her body, his fingers gently tease her wet core as he pushes a finger into her before adding a second. Her back slightly arches off the bed and his lips crash into hers. She drags her hand down his torso until her hand is wrapped around his length; her thumb pressing against its head, pulling a moan from his lips. They share a look, one mixed with longing and consent before Jackson roughly grabs her hips. He sinks into her. A mixture of moans and expletives fill the room as they start to move together. Her nails dig into his back, trying to ground herself as his thrusts increase. She buries her face into the curve of his neck as her body trembles beneath him.

Jackson feels Eleanor begin to tighten around him. He pulls her up, wrapping his arms around her to hold her up as he sinks deeper into her. Her head falls backwards as his name leaves her lips over and over, getting closer to the edge. He pushes into her once more before he feels her fall over the edge, her body constricting against his as her body is flooded by pleasure. Watching her come undone brings Jackson to his own orgasm, spilling his seed into her before they both fall back onto the bed. He lays on his back, chest caving in as he breathes heavily while she weakly drapes her arm over his chest; laying close to his side. There are no words spoken between them, there’s no need for them. Steady breaths and heavy eyes take over and they both fall asleep.

* *

Eleanor wakes up, the clock next to her bed tells her it’s around 2AM. She smiles as she sees Jackson sleeping, the two still intertwined together covered by just the thin top sheet. Carefully she slips out of his arms; she walks back out onto the balcony wrapped in her robe. Leaning against the railing, she lets herself get lost in thought.

Not too much time passes before Jackson wakes, feeling the emptiness beside him. He looks around before seeing her standing outside, deep in thought. Quietly, he steps into his boxers before leaning against the doorframe watching her. He’s truly in awe of the woman in front of him, no one has captivated his heart as she has. She smiles when she feels his arms wrap around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. She doesn’t want to leave; her life could be perfect just staying here with Jackson.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She lets out a soft sigh, “Just thinking about tomorrow and how I’m not going to be able to act like that didn’t happen.”

“Then don’t,” she turns around, his arms still around her. “I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to go back to our stations.”

“Jackson…”

“I mean it, I love you, El.”

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