#black lives matter vancouver

[kendallwa]

https://www.instagram.com/tv/C41CK0Uu5xF/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

Refresh - “Encased in Glass” 2012.

One of my fav tracks from ”Washington Monument”. About a relationship now resting in a mausoleum. ✌🏽 ❤️

#black lives matter #kendall wa #art #hip hop #music #artists on tumblr #spoken word #poetry #black hair #fashion #vancouver #indie

[aliaology]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY

summary: you used to date quinn, the relationship starting not long after him and his other ex broke up. she got mad, made drama about you, and in the end, it flared up by the time your relationship was long gone.

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: death threats

thin mints. god you loved thin mints, and currently you craved them. actually, you craved the nice memories they brought. the memories where your ex told you he would have some guy get some for you. he ended up being that guy.

quinn hughes. your favorite past lover who will continue to outshine the rest. he treated you well, made you happy. he was perfect.

bonding over the black eyed peas and the smiths was something you found to be hard when it came to other people. but with quinn, it was easy. he made love seem easy and effortless.

but the downside, was his ex. she was pretty, but they had broken up about three months prior to you and him hooking up and then ultimately getting together. no one necessarily knew of their breakup. they didn’t post pictures often of each other due to quinn living in vancouver and his ex living in michigan.

so everyone assumed they were fine, until quinn decided to hard launch your relationship. you were fine with it at first. it was innocent, like the cuddling on trampolines you guys loved to do.

but now you were being called a slut. at this very moment, you were being called a slut and getting death threats. at the time, you were getting the same treatment.

it seemed his ex put the idea that he cheated on her with you, into everyones head. and they believed it. they believed it because of the stereotype against hockey players. the stereotype against girl best friends.

but that didn’t stop your relationship. you were so into it. you were there for everything, even his brothers… until you weren’t. it wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms. in fact, you both ended things, stating it was better to stay friends.

then she released a song. a song where she practically tore you apart, tore you down. you were the hot topic on her tongue.

she painted you out to be the bad guy. the manipulator. the one who made him take you to bed. you were just trying to hold him close and love him.

the only win from the whole situation was the fact he called you his favorite love. that you would always be the favorite.

but to everyone, you were the slut. you didn’t have a choice in that matter. you were the homewrecker. all because you liked a boy.

ynusername

liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes and 625,737 others.

ynusername all because i liked a boy. coming out oct 14 (with permission). thinking of dating a boy with an ex? i wouldnt recommend it. especially if stuff happens after you had already broken up!

comments.

user and shes gonna eat 😜

user she alr did with ‘skin’ 🤭🤭

user DIE WHORE

_quinnhughes insanely proud of u y/n/n

ynusername thank u quinner 😪

jackhughes AND ALL OF THIS FOR WHAT⁉️⁉️⁉️

lhughes_06 WHEN EVERYTHING WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP 😱😱😱

user all hughes brothers being her no.1 supporters is so cute

jackhughes can i get you thin mints this time

jackhughes im exless!

jackhughes no im not but my ex forgot i exist!

jackhughes choose me instead!

_quinnhughes jack please this is embarrassing for u

jackhughes SHUT UP QUINN

user i cant tell if quinn is okay with this or not

ynusername he is 😭 me and him are best friends now and have no hard feelings or any romantic feelings towards one another anymore. plus jack will never have a chance 🤷‍♀️

user ITS GONNA BE A BOP LMFAO

user slut! homewrecker! cunt!

user banned!

user i love i live i laugh

user i alr know this will slap

trevorzegras @/jackhughes shes mine

user STOP.

user puckbunny ass bitch

user i know what im streaming when it comes out!

user i still prefer quinns ex over y/n

user then use her name instead of y/ns xx 😻

erm..! this lowkey sucks LMFAO

taglist (perm!) @hockeyboysarehot (just ask to be added for perm tags! <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #hughes brothers #all because i liked a boy

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

The Agreement

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: this take place on Jan. 27/28 of 2023

warning: food mentioned, badly written/rushed (even though it took the longest to write) smut, lowkey Quinn is a simp

word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t ever supposed to happen, sure Y/n had always found Quinn attractive, but that was where the line was drawn and she told herself never to cross it. Y/n had been on men’s teams since she was 13 and started liking boys, but she never even kissed any of them, let alone slept with them. 

-last night-

It all started when the team went out to celebrate their win against Columbus, and with them not having another game for a couple days, they probably got a couple rounds too many.

“Another!” “No! We’re done, yeah just the check please.” “Bo, you are no fun.” The only woman at the table says, pointing her finger at him while she does, before grabbing her purse and searching through the mobile junk drawer to hand him a couple bills. Before she gets the chance Quinn taps her hand, a signal for her to stop as he paid both their shares. Before Y/n could open her mouth to argue, Quinn interrupted with, “You get the uber?” “Okay.” She says, smiling, Y/n gets very smiley when she’s drunk, and flirty, which did not go unnoticed by Quinn; he watched her flirt with the waiter all night.

After saying their goodbyes to their teammates when their uber arrived, the two walked out of the pub and into the cold Vancouver air. “I really love Vancouver, I’m glad I got drafted by a Canadian team. It has a piece of home. Rains a bit too much though, I could do without that. And you lived in Toronto right? I never went there before playing the leafs.” She also rambles when she’s drunk, “That’s us I think.” The tall woman walks over to the black car, confirming it was theirs, before opening the door for Quinn. 

“Shouldn’t I be getting the door for you?” “If you know me at all Huggy, you know that’s not true.” “True.” Y/n had always been independent, and with playing in the NHL she never wants the guys to treat her differently just because she’s a woman. And maybe it was a bit of internalised misogyny, and she was working on it, trying to be seen as strong while not giving up her feminine side, it was hard.

The drive was quiet, Y/n gazing out the window, Quinn gazing at her. And between his looks towards the woman he couldn’t help but notice the uber driver also taking his fair share of glances at the beautiful woman. Just like back at the pub with the waiter Quinn had this overwhelming urge to pull the guy’s eye out of their sockets so he could never look at his girl like that. Well not his girl- she wasn’t his girl and at the rate they were going Quinn doubted he would ever get the confidence to change that. His thoughts were interrupted by the uber driver himself, 

“We’re here.” “Thank you, bye Quinny see you-” Her words being cut off by Quinn closing his door. “Oh… OH! Jeez!” Y/n’s door opened in time with her scream, “Quinny, god you scared me.” “You should come inside.” “Why?” Quinn sent a quick glance to the man behind the wheel, before turning attention back to wear he often found it, Y/n, “This guy gives me bad vibes I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” “Quinn, it will be fine.” “No, come on, I’m serious.” His words slightly strained as he reaches over to undo the woman’s seatbelt, and grabs her wrist to bring her out of the creep’s car, slamming the door and continuing to his building. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I can handle myself and-” “You know that I am the last person to think you can’t handle yourself, it’s not a matter of that-” “-then what-” “-My mom raised me right, and I got bad vibes from that guy, and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you with him. If you don’t want to stay here tonight I can drive you home myself.” “...Thank you. I’m fine to stay here tonight, I’ll just sleep on your couch” “Nonsense” The man mumbles, reaching over to press the floor his apartment was on, then continuing, “I’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep in my bed.” “No.” “Yes.” “No- '' Before Y/n could reply with her argument, Quinn walked out of the elevator on his way to his door. “Hey!-” Quinn opened the door for them, moving his arm to signal Y/n to enter, “-Thanks-'' He then closes the door, and makes his way to the kitchen to get water for the two, while Y/n continues her case, “I’m not taking your bed, it’s yours.”

“Fine, whatever you say, you want to watch something?” Quinn asks, knowing he will get his way, turning on the TV and skimming through the different streaming services he has. Y/n comes over, sitting next to Quinn, “Left, Up.. Right, right.. Hmm down-” “I’ll just give it to you.” She takes the remote from him and eventually selects friends, knowing it was a safe option.

“God, I hate Ross. I think it’s because he reminds me of every guy I've dated.” With a quick glance Quinn determines it safe to ask, “How so?” “How so? Well let’s see, he’s controlling, and overly possessive and jealous, he’s never happy for Rachel’s accomplishments, and he has this egotistical air of superiority about him.” “Not that you're bitter or anything.” “I don’t know why I attract these terrible guys. Or I’m not going for the right one’s, like you. You’re good, I don’t know why I can’t get a guy like you.” At that, Quinn leans over to grab his water, suddenly really needing it.

“Sorry, that made things weird, maybe I’m still a little drunk.” Y/n mumbles, turning to face the man that is already looking at her. Against her own control, her eyes fell down to his lips, they’re a perfect shade, and looked so kissable. Not that she was thinking- oh hell, yes she was. After noticing how long she had been staring, she quickly brought her eyes back to his, only to find that the man’s own eyes were on her lips. So with the positive signals and the little bit of vodka and diet coke still in her system, the woman brings her hand to Quinn’s jaw, the action causing his eyes to finaling meet hers again. And while not saying anythingl, their eye contact said it all, and their lips crashed together.

They fit together flawlessly, moving in sync with each other. Y/n tongue coming to Quinn’s bottom lip, begging for access, which he qladly gave up with no fight. Her hands moving to around the man’s neck, and swinging her left leg over his to straddle him, his hands now moving down to her hips. Y/n could tell he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her ass, so she did it herself, grabbing ahold of his wrists and moving his hand to comfortably grasp the flesh there. Subtly Y/n began to rock her hips against his, eliciting a groan from Quinn. 

This must have been Quinn’s last straw because he quickly stands, his hands holding Y/n up as she wraps her legs around his waist. He carries her to his room, never wincing from holding Y/n’s body weight, probably because her weight was his warm up weight, that fact only making him so much hotter to Y/n. He closes the door with his foot, continuing the walk to the bed, throwing the woman in his arms on his soft comforter, and crawling over top of her. 

Hastily kissing his way up her body and he does, deciding to set up camp at her neck, kissing and sucking on her pulse point. Tired of the slow pace, Y/n starts pulling at Quinn’s shirt wanting it off, getting the idea, Quinn leans back to take it off, Y/n did the same leaving her just in a sports bra. They have both seen eachother in this state many times before, but in the new setting, it was far more sensual. After taking off her shirt, Y/n moves her hands to her dress pants, Quinn mirroring her movements, “Are you sure about this?” “Yes.” bringing her knees to her chest, Y/n throws her pants on the floor for future her to find, while Quinn stands to take his own off.

Now both in just their underwear, Y/n drags Quinn with her hands on his shoulders, to sit against the soft headboard straddling him again, it was now her turn to suck hickies on his neck. Grasping the hair at the nape of Quinn’s neck and grinding against his hard-on with fewer layers, evokes moans from both. Quinn moves his hands from her back to wear Y/n is grinding herself on him to move the constricting fabric of their underwear, pulling his boxers down just enough for his cock to slap against the man’s abs, “Jesus.” “What?” Quinn asked, he never got complaints about his size but hearing Y/n’s reaction made him more self-conscious about his dick than he ever has been. “You’re just.. Big” Y/n laughs at her choice of words, not having known what to say. And after realising what she said, Quinn laughed too. It was nice to know they were still comfortable around each other; hopefully that won’t go away in the morning. 

“Um, thanks” “Anytime.” Y/n respond quickly, bringing her hands back to around Quinn’s neck pulling him into another kiss, just as fast as she started it, Y/n breaks the kiss reaching for the hem of her sports bra to rip it off, and somehow seeing the woman’s boobs made this all feel real, and Quinn must have been staring longer than he thought as Y/n reaches forward to raise his chin so his eyes are looking back at hers, “My eyes are up here, Huggy”

Without waiting for his response, Y/n brings Quinn in for another heated kiss, and after a moment brings her hands to move her panties to the side, feeling the wet spot on them. She grasps Quinns cock in her hand, giving it a few good pumps, before rising to her knees, and lining her wet hole with his hard cock. “Last chance, you sure Quinny?” “God, ye-.” 

Before he could finish, Y/n sinks herself fully on his cock, giving herself a moment to adjust to Quinn’s size before moving up and down, with the help of Quinn with his hands on her ass once again. “Oh, Quinn.. So full.” Y/n really having to carry the conversation as Quinn is too pussy drunk to respond, only moaning and groaning when Y/n does something he likes. “Fuck Y/n! You’re so tight, pussy feels amazing” Saying this, Quinn brings his thumb to Y/n's bottom lip, in her lustful state, she opens her mouth allowing his thumb to enter without much thought. Swirling her tongue around his digit, then releasing it, when Quinn makes moves to bring his thumb towards the woman's swollen clit. Rubbing small circle there, which cause Y/n to moan loudly at the feeling.

Neither of the two last that long, “Oh fuck- Y/n I’m gonna- fuck.” “Me too. Fuck! Oh fuck!” With one last sink down Y/n is cuming harder than she has in a long time, not completely stopping her movements but slowing them, trying to help Quinn find his orgasm and for her to ride out her own. Feeling Y/n come around him, Quinn is about to give in, “Where- want it.” “Inside! Please!” And at that Quinn is gone, bucking his hips up into Y/n more riding out his orgasm. “Ah~ Quinn ‘s sensitive.” "I know, baby"

Both panting, Quinn still inside and slides down for his head to be on his pillows, and Y/n leaning her body on his chest. “Let me get you a washcloth.” Quinn said, making moves to leave, before Y/n put her hands on his pecs and stopping him, “Give me a sec.” Y/n pants out and about a minute later says, “Okay.” And she starts rising on her knees, only for them to give out, “Do you want-” “Nah, I’m good.” Giving her legs their redemption, which they do well at, and lays on her back next to Quinn. “I’ll get you a washcloth.” Quinn reaches for his boxers, getting up, putting them on, then starting for the bathroom “No wait. I have to pee."

-the morning-

The late morning sun dipped into the bedroom, hitting Y/n in the eyes, causing her to wake up, not only to the feeling of the winter sunshine on her face but to the feeling of an arm around her, a man’s arm, Quinn’s arm. “Fuck.”

Softly, Y/n slips out of Quinn’s bed and tries to find her clothes to get dressed, all while trying and failing to not wake Quinn. “Morning” He says, in a husky morning voice. “Good Morning. I’m gonna be on my way, don’t want to intrude on your off day.” “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll make breakfast.” 

Y/n now dressed in Quinn’s clothes and Quinn making the two of them eggs on toast, the girl had to put her mind to rest and ask Quinn. 

“So.. Last night..” “Yeah.” With neither knowing exactly what to say, silence engulfed the room. 

“It was good- great! It was great.” “Yeah” “...Would that ever happen again?” That shocked Quinn he was preparing himself to get rejected, “Do you want it to happen again?” “I mean..Yeah.” “Okay.” With their nonchalant-ness you wouldn’t think they just agreed to sleep with each other again. Though their nervousness and tension in the room could be cut with a knife. “But, if we’re doing this we should have like a couple ground rules.” “Oh, yeah. That's a good idea.” 

The two sat at Quinn’s island turning their bodies to face each other, “Okay.. obviously not telling anyone.” “Of course.” “And no kissing, unless we’re leading it somewhere.” “Okay.” “And no dates or anything like it.” “Right.” “Okay, that’s the agreement?” “Yep.” “Shake on it.”

Y/n said, sticking out her hand, Quinn taking it and shaking her hand in agreement.

These rules will kill him.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x nhl player!reader #quinn hughes x player!reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes fic #hockey player!reader

[theemptyartdeco]

Twin Tides (Nate Jacobs)

Summary:

Kaitlyn Arundel, a former prep school princess from New York City, was a pawn in her parents' war of a divorce, had a fire in her that was concealed by a facade of naivety and perfection.

Nate Jacobs is the king of the monsters that once haunted him, a master of control born from his own nightmares.

When their worlds collide, lines blur and reflections emerge, hinting that perhaps, they're not as different as they seem.

Materlist

Chapter 2 Calmness amidst the Storm | Kaitlyn

Warning: This chapter contains prejudice, strong pejorative language and internalized misogyny. (Both of them are deeply flawed characters, read at your own discretion.)

Kaitlyn Arundel belonged to everywhere but nowhere.

To the glamorous New York, to the exotic Beijing, to melancholic Vancouver, Kaitlyn came, breathed and lived. She didn’t mind the habitual change of scenery. Why would she ever? She adored the privilege of flying above the world, rainy wooden scent of the northwestern coast, the foreign and mysterious capital of an ancient civilization and the vibrancy and grandeur of the city where dreams were made of.

But finding herself in a Californian suburban town was something that had almost sent her over the edge of anger and despair.

“Sweet daughter, it doesn’t matter whether you are in New York or anywhere else. Diamond shines everywhere it travels to.”

“Don’t you blame it on me. It’s your father’s fault that I can’t afford your private tuitions and ballet training anymore.”

“I will be sending allowance on your card. Don’t you ever worry. It’s your mother I am punishing, not you.”

“Kaitlyn, I’ve looked into your profile, 4.2 GPA, outstanding volunteering experience. Keep your academic records as it is, you will get into college in no time.”

Getting to a college? Is the man fucking serious? I do not belong to some low life community college. I belong to an Ivy.

“Kaitlyn.”

“Kaitlyn.”

“Ms. Arundel.”

“I’m sorry,” She adjusted her skirt, forcing the anger and tears down her throat by smiling gracefully, “Please go on.”

“As I was saying, I know transferring across half the country in the middle of your senior year may unsettling,” the principal continued, the appreciation in his voice now laced with a hint of impatience, “But I assure you, there is no need to be.”

“Thank you, Principal Hayes,” Kaitlyn nodded, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the discreetly ostensible round pearl earring, “To hear this from you offers me great relief.”

Relief my ass.

Every step Kaitlyn took toward the AP Calculus classroom, she felt as if she were Cersei Lannister in Games of Thrones, walking down atonement among stinking peasants of King’s Landing.

Some guys with their poorly arranged shirts smirked at her way, their lustful eyes gazing under her black skirt, while a group of girls whose laughter sounded like those horrendous traffic honking in downtown New York bumped the side of her shoulder, misplacing her expensive shirt.

She peeked back at the the group of girls. Fluorescent pants, their full breasts bouncing blatantly in their tops that served to enhance their youthful sexuality.

They would’ve been sent home, she scoffed, with a slight tilt of her brows, if only this was at the Trinity.

She sat herself in the corner of the first row instead of the centre where she wished to be. She liked attention. Especially the type of attention she receives effortlessly simply by dressing, walking and smiling they way she did. But something about placing in front of twenty ish hormonal teenagers unsettled her. Most importantly, the spot offered her opportunity to observe.

The teacher went on and on about the limit of a function, a notion she had leant in junior year, Kaitlyn’s gaze wandered subtly unnoticeably. One girl was the first of her subject of observation. The makeup on her face was smoky and bold, her winged eyeliner almost reached her brows. She, like almost other girl in East Highland High, wore a short tank top revealing her belly button and petite waist. Then, at least, her eyes finally landed on her breasts, again. They were plump, her round skin rubbed against each other and the rough texture of her top. They captured her attention uncontrollably.

She felt the sensation of her tight, black, push-up bra constraining her flesh like a 19th century corset.

But she loved Victorian corsets.

But it burnt, it hurt.

She returned her mind on the paper, but the image of their horrendous laughter and rude demeanour, the way their breasts bouncing freely and shamelessly played again and again.

Just as she breathed soothingly, preparing to drown herself in the world of mathematics once more, her eyes landed on Nate Jacobs.

Wearing a large blue hoodie, it was obvious in his eyes that his mind was filled with calculations beyond the math.

That night at the carnival, he touched her.

He dared to touch her.

“A lot of men would try to het their hands on a beautiful girl like you. You don’t want to find yourself in that kind of situation.”

Was that a threat?

Nate Jacobs was the image of an archetype she disdained: the arrogant jock, stupid and practically illiterate, actions dictated by sex hormones instead of the brain. Yet the way he spoke to her with the calm and charming mask he had worn , even later that night, the threatening way his gaze locked to that his girlfriend and the way he grabbed her for messing his pride…

For the first time in this dreadful school, Kaitlyn was excited. Among the hormonal driven teenagers, there was a wrestler.

An embodiment of physical strength and strategy.

To be frank, Nate Jacobs had occupied a portion of her mind. A disgust boiled in her stomach as Kaitlyn is recalled the unabashedly greedy look the faces of those pathletic and arrogant high school boys, but Nate Jacobs was everything she liked about men.

Kaitlyn Arundel had made a long mental checklist of the things she liked and disliked about men.

She liked white shirts, crisp and clean, but not the ones that hadn’t seen an iron in weeks.

She liked tall boys, but didn't mind the shorter ones as long as their bodies were in shape.

She hated unkempt appearances, but there was nothing on planet Earth she hated more than fat arms and a round belly.

She liked jeans, snug but not too tight.

She liked sweaters.

She liked confidence, but despised misplaced arrogance, the bluster without the backbone.

She never understood boys who wore makeup, felt it hid more than it showed.

It was one of the things she first noticed about Nate. His confidence didn't just show, it roared.

“Mr. Jacobs, please come with us.”

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Principal Hayes’ voice.

“Maddy fainted, and they found bruises on her neck,” a girl whispered to the person next to her.

“And they think that Nate did it!”

Kaitlyn immediately recalled the image of him dragging Maddy furiously away from the booth after she had called his mom the c word.

To Kaitlyn, the idea of Nate leaving those marks on Maddy wasn’t unsettling. If someone had humiliated her that publicly, she might not have drawn blood, but she'd certainly have sought revenge — maybe by obliterating her future.

An hour later.

“Ms. Arundel, do you consider Nate Jacobs to you a violent individual?”

“No, officer. Nate Jacobs is one of the few who had shown me kindness since my transition to a completely new environment. He is an honest, generous and kind person . I truly believe he wouldn’t do such a thing. He's just not that kind of person.”

Author’s note: after writing this chapter, I realized that her pov, perhaps, is more and disturbing and Nate pov chapters. Even I, the author, got a little disturbed while writing. I know there aren’t as much dramas in the these first two chapters, but I believe it’s essential to take the time to establish their worldviews and give a glimpse of their internal battles. Like Nate, there is a reason why Kaitlyn is the way she is. Her backstory will be explored. Thank you for reading!

Comment pls pls pls! Your comments mean everything to me!

Tag list: @dani-is-a-princess @wabi-sabi1090 @tember1

#euphoria #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs fanfic #fanfic #rue bennett #nate jacobs x you #maddy perez #jules vaughn #jacob elordi

[ewritesthangs]

Sugar Daddy! Pablo Scheiber x Reader

First installment of my Sugar daddy! Pablo Schreiber x Reader. I hope you enjoy, these things just come into my head and I want to share my creativity with readers all around. 

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUTT, MATURE THEMES, MATURE LANGUAGE. 

You had met Pablo about three weeks prior to your date tonight with him. You were working as an on set medic for a new movie he was starring in. Pablo became infatuated with your beauty and you in general. 

As night fell upon the patrons of Vancouver, you and your best friend, who live together, were conversing about your upcoming date tonight. He sent you flowers today, along with 2 boxes. One box had a red satin mini dress and the other had authentic Louis Vuitton heels. You, of course, wore the outfit, looking rather delicious in the dress and heels. "Damn, Y/N I'd even fuck you in that attire." Y/BFF/N said with a giant smirk plastered across her devilish face. 

"Thank you, that is kinda the plan, Stan." You smirk, winking at her before gathering your stuff for the night.

"You got your implant, right?" 

"Like a month ago, where the fuck you been?" You chuckle and grab your light jacket, black in color. "I'll see you hopefully later. Or tomorrow. Who knows. I hope he doesn't kill me and just fucks me into oblivion." 

"Where did you come from?" 

"New found confidence in this thing." You spin around. The drive over to his hotel room was uneventful, except the wonderful performance you had put on for your stuffed hamster on your dashboard. 

You softly knock on the door. Was that too soft? You think to yourself before the door opens. 

Pablo takes a deep breath and smiles. "Y/N, you look ravishing." He was dressed in a "fancy" shirt which looked silky and some gray dress pants. 

"Well you don't look too bad yourself there, sweet cheeks." A nickname you have had for him since day one due to his charisma. You smirk and wink at him. 

His deep chuckle brings an alarming amount of joy to your being. One you had never experienced before meeting the incredibly tall man. 

"Please come in. Make yourself at home, dear." He steps aside to let you in. You saunter on in and he helps you take your jacket off and hangs it up. 

"Why thank you. Oh wow, nice room." You look around in awe, never really seeing this much luxury up close and personal. 

"Thank you. It's not too bad as a home away from home." You nod as you follow Pablo to his rather large kitchen compared to your small apartment kitchen. "Would you like some wine, my dear." He flashes you his beautiful smile. 

"Yes please." You smile back and grab the wine glass from him. "Fancy."

"Only the best for you, lovely." This statement made you blush. You take a sip of wine to deter from the blush. 

"I'm not that special." You say, causing Pablo to feign offense. 

"Y/N, you are the most special woman I have ever met."

"We met like three weeks ago."

"Time doesn't matter." 

"Philosophical. Impressive." 

"I try." He chuckles again. 

"So, Mister Schrieber, what is for dinner?"

"Homemade spaghetti and meatballs with a homemade bolognese." 

"Wait, you can cook too? What can't you do?" 

"Apparently 5th grade math." You both end up laughing at that comment. 

"Ready for dinner? I have something I am dying to talk to you about after dinner." 

"Oh? Yes I was ready when you said homemade." He serves you a hefty amount of food. 

"Eat up. I do not want you to be hungry." He winks and sits across from you. You guys engage in casual conversation as you devour the delicious food he had prepared. 

"Now, I am full. What is it that you would like to talk about?" You sip some wine. 

"I'd like for us to have a relationship of sorts. Now I don't exactly do the whole dating thing. Since my failed marriage I have tried to focus on my health and wellbeing as well as work and my kids. But I would love to be your sugar daddy." 

"Sugar daddy? Like you buy me things and I give you sex in return?" 

"Yes. I am quite wealthy, I want to spoil you, and I am infatuated by you," 

"Sugar. Daddy. Are there rules?" 

"I am the only one you are having sex with. I go by daddy." 

"Not many people like me enough to want to have sex with me." You shrug.  

"Well I do." He crosses his legs. 

"Okay. Yes." 

"Yes? Are you being serious?"

"A thousand percent." His excitement could not be contained at your confirmation. This was really what he wanted. 

"Would you like to start tonight?" You choke on the wine you were sipping. 

"Is that why you wanted me in this sexy dress?" 

"Maybe." He smirks. 

"Why not. I have been wanting to experience things with you. Why did I just say that out loud?" Maybe it was the wine getting to you. But you felt empowered with his words. 

"Good. Now I am usually a dominant male. I can have a submissive side when wanted. But tonight I am in charge." His voice got slightly deeper. This made your nether regions grow a little wet. You had a thing for deep voices. "Come." Pablo stands up and holds his hand out. You happily oblige. He takes you to his bed, pulling you close to him. His right hand goes to the back of your head and pulls your head to look up at him. "I don't usually do kissing either but your lips look so kissable." He gently kisses you at first to test the waters. Then he kisses more needingly. His lips were intoxicating. He pulls back and unzips your dress. "I want you naked, on the edge of the bed. Now, princess." You nod and give him a little show. He watches, biting his bottom lip. "Good girl." You lay at the edge of the bed. Pablo walks over to you and gets down to his knees. "I have wanted to taste you all night." His hands rub your calves then thighs before separating them. Exposing your freshly waxed sex. "Mmmm, someone was hoping for something to happen tonight."

"A girl can dream. But seems like the feeling was mutual." He hums before ever so slowly getting closer to your sex. Tantalizingly slow, to your dismay. You squirm under his gaze. 

"Patience, princess." He says softly before blowing some cool air onto your exposed clit. This made you shiver and moan. "You smell so sweet." He says before delving in. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. Flicking his tongue as he suckles slightly. This makes you instantly arch your back and shut your eyes. The sweet sweet feeling of his amazing tongue on your swollen, neglected clit was all so much stimulation. A few breathy moans escape your lips and you rock your hips to his tongue wanting more friction. One of his hands rubs your thigh before he inserts two fingers into you. He pulls back to watch you. You look down to see his face glistening with your juices. In and out. In and out. Slow at first to you adjusted to his girthy fingers. He then picks up the pace. You bite your lip before throwing your head back. A soft little "Fuuuck." comes from your lips. 

"That's it baby, feel my fingers." He curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet, sweet g-spot. Your breath hitches and you rock your hips once more. 

"Ah yes." You moan out. He smirks, and halts his movements. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, causing you to whimper. 

"I want to be inside you when you come for me for the first time, princess." He stands up and undresses himself. Exposing his lengthy, girthy cock ready for you. "See what you do to me already, princess?" You sit up and nod. 

"Oh daddy, I need you right now. Please."

"Oh, begging already? Mmm such a sweet sweet sound." He licks his hand before pumping himself a few times. You lick your lips. He comes over to you. "Up on the bed more, princess." You scoot up onto the bed more, to which he follows. "You sure you're ready for all of this?" He smirks, you nod vigorously. "That's the spirit, princess." He dips his head down to kiss each tit before he slowly inserts himself. You gasp at his size but moan, it feeling good to have someone inside you after a few months of no action. He cradles your head with his arms as he starts his sweet, yet rough thrusts. You moan out loudly, louder than you ever have. But you didn't care, this man was making you feel good and people needed to know. 

"Ah oh fuck, yes." 

"That's it princess, feel me. Every little inch." He made sure you felt every inch of him. With every thrust. He knew how to take care of a woman. He rocks his hips into yours. "Say my name." 

"Daddy." You whisper. 

"Louder." His voice went dark almost. Very raspy.

"DADDY!" You moan out loudly. 

"That's it princess." He quickens the pace up slightly, feeling you clench and squirm ever so slightly. 

"I-i-i I'm close Daddy." You say, feeling the release rise up in your body, ready to release at any moment. 

He licks his hand before putting it between you two. He spits into his hand and rubs your clit, causing a whole other sensation to happen within you. You arch your back and rock your hips. "Cum for me princess, let me feel you all around me." That sent you over the edge. You pulsate around him, the feeling of euphoria raining over you as you cum all around him. A long, strangled moan comes from you, almost a scream. You needed that incredible release. You pant as he keeps thrusting into you, getting himself to the edge. "Princess, play with your tits." You were still in that just fucked stage of the aftermath, an afterwave of pleasure coming upon you. You begin to play with your tits, flicking and squeezing the nipple. He grunts and stills, a hot juice shooting into you. You moan. 

"That's it daddy." 

"You are incredible." He kisses your forehead before slowly pulling out. You both lay there panting. You were still dazed. 

"You weren't too bad, yourself." You manage to pant out. "Man I am out of shape." You say, once you have calmed down. Pablo just chuckles. 

"No you're not." He stands up and walks to what you think is the bathroom. You sit up, seeing him emerge with a towel. "Let me clean you up." He kneels again and pulls you to the edge. This caused a small squeak to come from you. He wipes you up, clean as can be. 

"Good thing I am on birth control." You smirk and giggle. 

"I saw the implant." 

"Well aren't you just observant." You caused him to chuckle again. 

"Would you like to spend the night? You look very tired from that good fucking." He asks, concerned you wont make it to your apartment. 

"I- yeah sure why not." You shrug, yawn and stretch. Pablo pulls the covers back for you to get in. You slowly crawl, tiredness having washed over you. He tucks you in, planting a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. 

"Thank you princess." 

"For?" 

"Saying yes. And listening to my silent plea for you not to drive in your state of exhaustion." 

"Wine does tend to put me out after some activities." You yawn and snuggle into the man who now was laying next to you. He stiffened then relaxes, him finding an odd sense of comfort in your presence. 

"Get some rest, princess." He shuts off the bedside lamp, bringing you into the state of slumber. 

A/N:: Not my best work, things will hopefully get better. I hope y'all enjoy!

#pablo schreiber #pablo schreiber imagine

[allthecanadianpolitics]

"A Vancouver police officer was found guilty Monday of assault with a weapon for using a stun gun a Black man who’d been arrested for jaywalking, five years after the assault happened. 

Const. Jarrod Sidhu used a Taser on Jamiel Moore-Williams three times on February 11, 2018, after Moore-Williams had been stopped by police on Granville Street for crossing at a red light. 

Judge Emmet Duncan ruled in Vancouver Provincial Court that the Taser was not “proportionate [or] necessary.” 

“I reject … that Mr. Moore-Williams posed a risk of imminent bodily harm to anyone,” Duncan told the court in his guilty verdict.

Moore-Williams said he had crossed in a hurry to get away from someone who was throwing rocks at him. Police flashed their sirens, then demanded his ID. His interaction with police was filmed, and showed multiple officers kicking and kneeing him. 

Azuka Nduka-Agwu, an organizer with Black Lives Matter Vancouver who ran a GoFundMe to help Moore-Williams with his legal fees, told CTV News that the assault was likely motivated by anti-Black racism. 

“Race definitely played a role in this,” Nduka-Agwu said. “The most recent data shows how much more Black and Indigenous men in particular are criminalized.”

Recently released data from municipal police departments found that, between 2016 and 2021, Black and Indigenous people were disproportionately reported to the police, and had more charges recommended against them. In Vancouver, around one per cent of the population is Black, but about five per cent of charges were brought against Black people."

Full article

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #canadian politics #canada #canadian news #canadian #vancouver #british columbia #BC #vancouver police department #police brutality #police violence #cops #police

[alphaman99]

Virgil Alexander posted:

Forwarded to me by an executive accountant friend: WHO AND WHAT IS—BLACK LIVES MATTER?

Black Lives Matter might be viewed as a grassroots movement of concerned people gathering together. It is much more.

Black Lives Matter is a corporation whose real name is Black Lives Matter Global Network Foundation (BLMGNF). (Yep, it's one of those capitalistic corporations they profess to hate.)

The following information is on their web site. It's a nationwide corporation! BLMGNF has chapters in Boston, Chicago, Washington DC, Denver, Detroit, Los Angeles, Lansing, Long Beach, Memphis, Nashville, New York City, Philadelphia, South Bend and in Canada in Toronto, Vancouver, and Waterloo. (If you were impressed by how all those recent riots erupted simultaneously from a grassroots movement--well, maybe it's not so grassroots.)

BLMGNF is a not-for-profit corporation--but it's not tax exempt, so donations are not tax deductible. Except if you go to its website and want to donate, you're transferred to 'ActBlue Charities' which will take your donation, give you a tax deduction, and then distribute the money you gave to BLMGNF. Sort of . . .

What is ActBlue?

The following is taken directly from ActBlue’s web page: “Our platform is available to Democratic candidates and committees, progressive organizations, and nonprofits that share our values for no cost besides a 3.95% processing fee on donations. And we operate as a conduit, which means donations made through ActBlue to a campaign or organization are considered individual donations.”

ActBlue consists of three parts: ActBlue Charities facilitates donations to left-of-center 501(c)(3) nonprofits; Act Blue Civics is its 501(c)(4) affiliate; ActBlue is a 527 Political Action Committee. These three have raised over $5 billion in the sixteen years since it started. If it's 3.95% transaction fee has indeed been applied to all donations, that equates to over $197 million!

ActBlue is thus a Democratic Party front affiliated with BLMGNF. If only it was that simple and stopped there.

Per Business Insider Australia: “ActBlue . . . distributes the money raised to Thousand Currents, which is then granted to Black Lives Matter.”

So, what, you ask, is Thousand Currents (formerly the International Development Exchange)?

Again, per Business insider Australia: “Thousand Currents is a 501(3)(c) non-profit that provides grants to organizations that are . . . developing alternative economic models." (Is anarchy now an alternative economic model?)

"Thousand Currents essentially acts as a quasi-manager for Black Lives Matter: ‘It provides administrative and back office support, including finance, accounting, grants management, insurance, human resources, legal and compliance,’ (Executive Director Solome) Lemma said.” (Finance, insurance, human resources, legal and compliance? It sounds like General Motors!)

What is the significance of the above?

Black Lives Matter is not some fly-by-night fad that is going to loot and destroy and then disappear into the ash heap of history. It's a multi-corporation, big business that is heavily associated with and supports the Democratic Party--and it's here to stay. Arguing whether Black Lives or All Lives Matter is meaningless and distracts from what it's trying to achieve. It's a left-wing political movement that will have a significant impact on Democratic Party programs for the foreseeable future.

Socialism and Communism are intimately linked to these efforts. The U.S. Constitution and especially the Bill of Rights have no place in their plans. Patrisse Cullors,one of Black Lives Matter’s cofounders is widely quoted as saying, “We are trained Marxists.”

The president of Greater New York Black Lives Matter said that if the movement fails to achieve meaningful change during nationwide protests, they will “burn down this system.” Not the peaceful change we celebrate under our Constitution but violent change. For those of us who like our Constitution, this is a challenge thrown directly in our faces.

If you've been wondering why politicians have danced around criticizing Black Lives Matter, now you know.

[talkingtea]

Why are people saying Candice was happy in the early seasons of the Flash? Candice just said in that podcast she did last year that she hasn't watched the show since season 1 because it will trigger a bad memory of something bad that happened to her on set. She also said that after the Black Lives Matter movement, some white guest stars called her and said to her "I'm so sorry about how I watched bad things happen to you on set and I didn't say anything." She also said that she was more affected by the day-to-day stuff on set: her white counterpart was promoted more than her in the beginning seasons despite her being hired as the lead. Candice was being mentally abused on that set from jump. Ironically, she herself said she wasn't happy on set until Eric became the showrunner. Her confidence was clearly recked as a result, which is why she's probably in this toxic relationship now. Either way, she needs to get some therapy and self-respect so she can dump that loser.

Nobody is saying earlier seasons were perfect but it’s obvious that she was happier while doing them. There came a point in later seasons where it was obvious as hell that Candice HATED being in Vancouver and on the show. Like her energy was just dark and heavy all the time.

[yelyahnaloj]

Strawberry

My mom used to live with my grandma when she was about 23 to 25 years old. After her first divorce. It was in an apartment in Vancouver, Washington. When I was about 5 years old, I remember looking at a large rounded terracotta pot. It had openings from the side as well:

Observing it, I wondered how the plant ended up in the side pockets. I tried imagining the roots and whether the new plants crawled down the soil and up to the sides. I asked my mom how it worked, I don´t remember her answer (it could be possible the plants were simply planted in the side openings), but I do remember learning that strawberry plants create vine-like runners that crawl across the ground and create a whole other plant. I also learned that my mom loves strawberry plants so much that she would keep them in a pot outside an apartment even if she didn´t have a garden.

This became a theme in our lives, no matter where we lived, my mom would bring her plants with her. She would almost treat them like pets. Sometimes she would move potted plants throughout the day to wherever there was the most sun exposure.

She seemed to have a special attachment to strawberries. I remember she would tell me about a Strawberry Shortcake doll she had as a kid. I think she tried getting me into Strawberry Shortcake, as I remember watching the cartoons (I think my favorite character was actually Ginger Snap) and having paper dolls of the characters. I think I remember having an actual doll whose red hair smelled like strawberries. Once when I was eight years old, I had tried dying my hair blond to make it match my best friend, but we didn´t use bleach so it turned out a coppery color instead. My mom wanted me to dress as Strawberry Shortcake for Halloween (but I didn´t want to and I dressed as Supergirl instead).

Ironically, she was allergic to some sources of strawberries that you could get at the store. She had to be careful, and often tried to only get the organic ones (we´re not entirely sure why, if it is from the genetic modification, pesticides, or simply some other cross contamination).

In her gardens, the strawberry plants would spread, sending out runners and creating new plants. Some even outside the garden beds. The garden beds were lined with rocks we dug up outside, and the paths were made from smaller stones. At this point in my life, I was a teenager. Lived in my second step-dad´s house, which was new, but its construction and interior design was like a stock photo, with white walls and sleek black furniture that we were barely allowed to touch. The property had three levels, the top level being the dirt road to our house, we had two driveways that formed a ¨U¨ downhill to the middle level which was where the house was. Everything surrounding the house at this level was bare rock and dirt. Down to the third level was forested with thin, sickly douglas fir trees with a bracken fern dominant understory that was likely a regrowth after an old fire.

In our household, we did a lot of outdoor work. Especially when we got in trouble, we would be assigned ¨extra chores¨. We would have to do a half hour of work for every time we got in trouble, even for minor things. We often would have to do hours worth of work outside, often in all weather. We would dig, move rocks, weed the garden, rake the rocky ground to prepare for garden beds or the forest ground where rakes would get ensnared in native trailing blackberry. My step dad would take out the chainsaw and fell trees and cut them into pieces, we would stack the logs. We would pull the bracken fern. I was the slow but steady worker out of my siblings, rarely complaining, but I still wondered what the point of all this was. Didn´t we want the forest and native habitat? Will cutting and pulling really rehabilitate the forest?

I really started to understand what our work was doing when underneath the thick understory, I was introduced to other plants I had never seen. For example the pacific trillium, which was a three-petal white flower that is found in healthy forests. I observed another plant that up until that point I had only seen in our gardens and potted plants: Strawberry leaves. In a decade and a half of my life, most of that living in the same state, I didn´t know that strawberries were native to where I lived. Their berries are very tiny, but intensely sweet. When I had read in Braiding Sweetgrass that the author had a relationship to the outside world through the wild native strawberry, I thought about my own relationship to it. How, for many years, I didn´t even know they were native. My mom taught me, after her herbal apprenticeship, to eat strawberry leaves when we go out on hikes, which I had shown my best friend when I went out with her family. Strawberry leaves taste slightly sour and are high in vitamin C.

During the beginning of the pandemic in 2020, I was just getting into my mid-twenties. I moved to my mom´s homestead, which was mostly populated by sagebrush all around us. I had a random spiritual inclination to create a sort of spell. A homing signal, perhaps. My mom wanted to create a garden similar to Western Washington, she allowed me to transplant violets and strawberries (the cultivated varieties). As I planted them, I tried to think of home where I grew up, as if I would summon that energy onto this property. I felt frustration, because I couldn´t quite focus, worried that I was planting the plants wrong. When I was done, my mom gave me a bottle of frankincense essential oil, and I put a single drop on the joint of a wishbone shaped branch by the garden for protection. I don´t know if it was my imagination, but I thought I felt energy radiate back at me as soon as the drop fell. Over the course of years, the garden grew up, new plants took over, and eventually the garden was neglected and taken over by chickens. Despite a fence being put up around it, there came a day when the garden was once again bare dirt and abandoned completely. Strawberries thrived elsewhere on the homestead that were well monitored, my mom kept trying to find more places to transplant them to.

About a year and a half later, my grandma bought a trailer and moved out onto the property. I started work at Petsmart, my grandma drove 50 miles in the early morning to take me to work. Around this time, I considered the idea of college again, and she encouraged me to go to The Evergreen State College. The thought was scary, but I eventually did it. I remember in the year and a half I was at the homestead, I just kept thinking of Western Washington, where I moved from in my teen years. When I thought back to the garden I tried to plant with strawberries and violets, maybe the lesson was instead of wishing that where I lived was more like where I grew up, maybe it was just time to go back home.

#pacific northwest #strawberries #wild strawberry #fragaria memories #Fragaria chiloensis #garden strawberry #strawberry shortcake character

[kendallwa]

https://www.instagram.com/tv/Cj_FuUcAj62/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

REFRESH - "Rollerderbyin'" 2011. This song features my cousin @fearlessdreamerkg and I wrote it about all the rollerderby squads in the Pacific Northwest. Go head - SKATE!! 🤩

#black lives matter #roller derby #kendall wa #art #hip hop #punk #fashion #artists on tumblr #poetry #black excellence #black hair #vancouver #pnw #music

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Sara Higdon

Published: Apr 8, 2023

We have seen an uptick in violent incidents from the “Trans” activist community. Kellie-Jay Keen was attacked by a mob in New Zealand, Billboard Chris was assaulted at a protest in Vancouver, Alex Stein had hot coffee poured on him in San Francisco, and most recently also in San Francisco, at San Francisco State University Riley Gaines was assaulted and essentially kidnaped by protestors.

This is on top of the number of state capitals that have been stormed in protest of trans related legislation. However, when I see these protests I am noticing that most of the activists don't appear to be trans themselves. They are using the Trans community as a vehicle to push their ideology with zero regard for the backlash that it brings upon actual trans people.

In the video of Riley Gaines' attack, it only appears that one in ten may have identified as such. We can tell this because progressive transgender people don’t try to fit in or blend in, they want you to know they are “trans.” Historically the “T” in LGBT stood for Transsexual. Which was used for those whose goal it is to “pass” and assimilate into society and not bring attention to the fact that we are the opposite sex as we present.

Progressives have been able to change the meaning of the “T”, to commandeer a community that just wants to live their lives in peace, to force their ideology on the world.

Around 2013, the “T” was changed to mean “Transgender.” With the change came a shift from the binary into the world of queer theory. Transexuals live in a binary world, they have gender dysphoria and take the steps to blend into the world as the opposite sex. Transgender is an “umbrella” term that ushered in the notion of non-binary and postmodern theory into an otherwise binary world. The postmodern aspect allowed progressives to then co-opt the “trans” moniker. They can now self-identify into an “oppressed” community, so that officials are afraid to do anything against it, for fear of being called bigots. 

Progressives tried to do the same thing with Black Lives Matter (BLM) in the summer of 2020. The issue was that this required convincing the black population to buy into their ideology and do their bidding. When you see the riot videos, a large portion of the assailants were white Antifa members. At the time, they were able to use the fight against Critical Race Theory (CRT) as their recruitment tool. They claimed it was “just teaching history.” The world woke up to their lies, and they had to go a different route; ushering in the push for Queer Theory. 

Queer theory and CRT are two sides of the same coin. Both are based in  postmodern neomarxist ideology and follow the same tenets. When the “Q” community was able to make “trans/non-binary” something that you can self-ID into, they were able to do the work themselves that they couldn’t convince the black community to do.

Progressives are able to push their ideology through violence, which then gets justified by politicians and mainstream media on the left. With headlines like "Anti-Lia Thomas activist escorted by police amid protest at SFSU," They have somehow convinced these people that it's ok for a male to hit a female as long as that male identifies as a woman, and blame the victim of the assault. They will continue with this strategy until it is no longer working, then they will move on to the next “oppressed minority” to destroy their standing in society.

Further proof that progressives don’t care about the “trans'' community is that they try to silence anyone that doesn't follow their ideology. I have had Antifa try to shut down three events I have taken part in. The last one was a few weeks ago in Pennsylvania. The venue that Chloe Cole (a detransitioner) and I (a transexual woman) were supposed to speak at got accidentally leaked the day prior, and immediately the hotel got phone calls and the local police said they didn’t have the manpower to be able to protect us if they showed up. The venue canceled, but thankfully a church 30 mins away stepped up and hosted with no issues.

Finally, everyone has the right to free speech, whether you disagree with that speech or not. Violence is never justified because you dislike what a person is saying. The only reason a person resorts to violence is because they have no meaningful counter argument.

I happen to agree with Riley Gaines on a lot of issues, and the areas we disagree, are areas where we can work together to come up with reasonable solutions. Violence shuts down the ability to create meaningful change, and only creates division. Prior to the progressive infiltration of the trans community, there were 1.4 million trans people in the United States. Demonizing this entire group because of the actions of the Marxist colonizers is playing into their hands. Those who physically assault others need to be charged. All of those who kidnapped Riley Gaines should be expelled and charged as well. Violence in the name of trans rights should never be tolerated—yet it is advocated for by the progressive left.

==

This is precisely the reason the canard "words are violence" was created. What it means is, I don't like what you have to say, so I'm entitled to physically assault you, and then we're even. Because your words and my violence are the same.

Personally, I'm not a fan of Sara's use of the word "progressive." I prefer the term "illiberal left."

It's not "progressive" to rehabilitate 1950s stereotypes as "gender identity," or invert MLK Jr's dream of a colorblind society into one that's color-conscious color-obsessed, or medicalize gay kids "straight," or deny both biology and evolution, or lie about the health impacts of obesity, or teaching people they're oppressed and everything is out to get you, or they're oppressors and the world is set up to benefit them at everyone else's expense, or reinstituting segregation, or manipulating words to try and engineer thought, or destroying people's lives for failing to conform to the sensibilities of the ruling class. It's mind-bogglingly regressive.

And it sure isn't "progressive" to abandon the most reliably disadvantaged people - those in abject poverty - in order to conduct identity politics which mostly benefit privileged elites, while looking down on their former base: the working class.

#Sara Higdon #transsexual #gender ideology #queer theory #trans violence #biology denial #religion is a mental illness

[standing-wave-mag]

The Rural Alberta Advantage brings Prairie Nostalgia to Vancouver

I first fell in love with live music years ago while residing in Edmonton, Alberta. Back then, I coped with life by going to as many shows as possible, from shoebox restaurants along Whyte Ave to stadium events at Rexall Place,

When you live somewhere so long, there’s a certain pattern in the people and the culture at live shows that you begin to pick up on. Years later, even if you find yourself thousands of kilometers away, you can still see these familiarities in the right setting.

I wouldn’t call myself The Rural Alberta Advantage’s (The RAA’s) biggest fan, but their shows and the music that goes with them bring about all these familiar patterns and feelings I thought I’d forgotten.

During those years in Alberta, I got to see them a handful of times. It’s always extremely intimate to hear a band sing about your hometown and encapsulate everything it meant to live there in a specific time. It’s not until you move away you begin to appreciate this intimate feeling as nostalgia for the home you once knew.

So here I was, years later in Vancouver at the historic Commodore Ballroom, finding myself back at one of their shows. It was like not a day had passed, and I was back in the shoes of that tumultuous young adult who knew what living in Alberta meant to her. But at the same time, I was not the same; this was simply a glimpse of a life I once knew.

What made the RAA special first and foremost were the fans. Everyone around me felt so familiar, creating an air of nostalgia in the venue that even the fog couldn’t drown out. In my mind, we were from the same home the RAA embodies, all yearning for that time and place: a medley of fans both young and old. 

As the venue screens above the bar and tables ceased showing advertisements, they were replaced by a black and white B-roll of Alberta, with the RAA symbol watermarked overtop. This felt like a (welcome?) takeover; as we were being transported to the band’s world that night.

As the show went on, lead vocalist Nils Edenloff reminisced about writing “Vulcan, AB” in northern Ontario with other Canadian musicians. The song contains one of my favourite verses they have ever written: “you and me and the Enterprise, stuck in Vulcan, telling lies.” The allusion of smalltown Alberta to the worldly Star Trek Enterprise ship can be universally understood, even if one has never stepped foot in Vulcan.

Another highlight of the show was the absolute power and energy that drummer Paul Banwatt brought to the stage. Just before the encore, I glimpsed him discarding his sticks just to absolutely fist-punch the final rhythms into his kit. While keyboardist Amy Cole and Edenloff brought their own energy to the stage, Banwatt was by far the biggest highlight to me.

The closing song was their ever-popular single “Terrified.” As a testament to fans who have been around for over a decade, the encore was one of the most special and unique I have experienced in recent memory. When the band left the stage, a movement started within the crowd; one person to my left, vocalizing the wordless melody found throughout  the track. Soon the entire  ballroom was filled with everyone chanting this melody over and over again. The band then returned to stage and picked up their instruments joining in to round it out until the end.

This was the pure magic that could only be found in the people, the supporters, the fans of this band who have stuck by all these years.

If you’re ever itching to find the specific embodiment of Albertan nostalgia, The RAA can bring it to you anywhere, any time, no matter where you are.

#vancouver #music news #indie music #live music #music reviews #commodore ballroom #commodore #yvr #the rural alberta advantage #the RAA #concert #concert reviews

[buck-yyyy]

okay the one thing that i don't understand about stranger things is, in season one, why the fake will's body,,, looked like that.

the lab claimed that will had fallen into the quarry and died november 7th, and they pulled his "body" out november 9th. but the fake body is in near perfect condition? after supposedly being in the water for two days?

yeah, no.

warning for the discussion of the decomposition process under the cut. if you're squeamish, proceed with caution.

corpses swell with the release of gasses post-mortem, even if they're underwater, but will's body was exactly the same size as his living body.

i did some research, and while the decomposition of a body occurs much slower in water, other changes occur. for example, the epidermis layer of skin in partiuclar will swell, and may turn green or black.

additionally, animals feed. fish and other creatures WILL start to munch on a body that's been underwater, it's free food.

"When researchers at the Simon Fraser University in Canada dropped three pig carcasses into the Saanich Inlet near Vancouver Island, they discovered almost immediately that the three little piggies attracted a variety of shrimp, crabs, and crustaceans that feasted on their bodies." (x)

this is referring to a body of saltwater, but it's still relevant to the quarry- there would be plenty of animals around, whether it be birds, forest critters, or various fish and general marine life.

after multiple days supposedly submerged underwater, will's body is nearly pristine- the only change is that his skin is grey, which does noticeably occur in bodies underwater- but it takes several months to develop?

basically, a substance called 'adipocere' (do not look it up. DO NOT look it up. i will explain what it is, don't do what i did, DO NOT LOOK IT UP, THE IMAGES ARE INCREDIBLY DISTURBING. i know it's tempting but DON'T) forms from the prolonged exposure to moisture, in a process called saponification, where the fatty tissues beneath the skin start to saponify- or turn into soap.

will's body wouldn't have been underwater long enough for that to happen, but his skin was still grey- not the typical bluish-purple color that occurs after death from the lack of blood flow.

so knowing all this, you might just say it's an unimportant error that doesn't make a difference, BUT- hopper was a "big city cop" who has most definitely seen dead bodies exposed to water for extended periods of time. why didn't he notice that will's body was Not Right?

of course, the state troopers were instructed to keep everyone at a distance from the body, but it's still noticeable from the distance he was at at the quarry that the state of the body was completely off.

meh. it doesn't really matter that much, but it's seriously bothering me.

#stranger things #will byers

[crjupdates]

Carly Rae Jepsen Has a Cynical Side

But she's still optimistic about love.

The Cut • Danielle Cohen • October 19, 2022

Photography by Tina Tyrell

Carly Rae Jepsen has a lot of feelings. If you’ve heard her songs, you know this: Intense crushes, first loves, and devastating breakups make up the musical vocabulary of the bubblegum-pop princess (or queen, if you ask her fans) who pours her heart into critically acclaimed records. In conversation, she’ll casually drop deep thoughts about romance between updates on her meditation journey (she just started) and riffs on Billie Holiday. “When you feel euphorically in love,” she tells me conspiratorially, “it feels like a miracle that’s happened only to you.” But Jepsen also knows she’s not the only one who feels this way. “It’s an extreme emotion that we experience privately but is universally shared,” she says of her most frequent subject.

When I meet Jepsen on a fall afternoon in New York, the light is glinting off her star-and-moon nail decals while she gestures wildly into the aisle of the Central Park Boathouse. Dressed in a black crepe turtleneck and a quilted jacket-and-short set, she stands out amid the Canon-toting tourists and uptown retirees sitting on the Boathouse’s back porch, overlooking the park’s lake. She is, to put it mildly, happy to be here. Her eyes, accented at the corners with little clusters of face sequins, widen incredulously when our salads arrive. She speaks quickly and a little breathlessly, as if she has too many thoughts to squeeze into a single sentence. At one point, our waiter tells her she looks like an actor from House of the Dragon, which she takes as a compliment — despite having never heard of the show.

She launches into a story about planning the So Nice Tour, which began in September and will incorporate songs from her fifth album, The Loneliest Time. “I was getting so fixated on the video-wall content and the placement of our hands and where the clouds were and the moon being timed right that I was talking a million miles a minute and losing my voice,” she tells me. “I had to give myself a real talking to, like, None of this will matter if you can’t sing!” She pauses briefly to marvel at the olive focaccia another uniformed waiter forks onto our plates. Her meticulously planned celestial-themed manicure, she explains, will come off the second she wraps the tour in February. “I can’t text. Everything comes out like a haiku.” Being back in New York is a treat for the Canadian native, who decided at the last minute to stay at the Plaza in order to give herself a brief respite from her first week of tour-bus coffee and corporate hotels. “Look at this!” she sighs, beaming and stretching her arm toward the rowboat-dotted water. “Look where we are right now! I didn’t know this existed.” Her giddiness makes our surroundings feel like a cross between a ’90s romantic comedy and an advertising campaign for the city. “Days like this make me want to move to New York,” she admits.

While she may be “coquettishly” browsing apartments here, Jepsen’s home base is Los Angeles. Amid the explosion of “Call Me Maybe,” the inescapable hit that made her a household name and tween birthday party staple, the musician left Vancouver and settled in California, where she’s been living since 2012 — though between tours and festivals, she confesses, it quickly became more like where her clothes lived. In the past decade, Jepsen has evolved into a more mature musician and earned herself a spot in the pantheon of low-key pop girls with passionate, if small, fan bases and plenty of clout with music critics. Her songs still clearly come from the same artist who sang “Call Me Maybe,” and for every deeply confessional lyric, there’s an irresistible hook that loops joyously in your head for days. But the candid uncoolness of her writing, full of yearning and the outlandish fantasies that come with having a crush on someone you barely know, is offset by a surprisingly indie-leaning roster of collaborators. (Dev Hynes and Vampire Weekend’s Rostam Batmanglij have both made appearances in her liner notes alongside more predictable pop writers such as Jack Antonoff.) In the world of Jepsen’s music, the emotions are just as big as the saxophone riffs, and your most desperate, heartbreaking thoughts can become glittery pop anthems to belt out in the shower.

The concept behind her new album stems from a deep-rooted feeling of discomfort. “It’s been a lifelong inquiry that I’ve had with myself about my relationship to loneliness,” Jepsen explains. “The idea that you have to be happy by yourself — like, ‘Go be alone and be happy!’ — that’s bullshit to me. You become really happy on your own when you know you have connections out there.” She finds isolation and connection to be two sides of the same coin: Being lonely can bring people together, hopefully through music like her own. “Loneliness is a similar thing to love,” she says, digging into her “insane” peach-cake dessert. “It’s felt everywhere by everyone at different moments in their life.”

The Loneliest Time is an extension of Jepsen’s familiar, infectious sound — but tinged with cynicism. She wrote most of it during the pre-vaccine months of the pandemic, quarantined at home in L.A. Having spent most of her adult life working, traveling, and recording, she was suddenly, undeniably, “home alone with the cat.” The existential-crisis questions rushed in: Was she happy being on the road this often? Did she need more balance? Was she connected enough with her family and friends? She ventured onto a dating app for the first time, which did not help her find love but did provide the inspiration for The Loneliest Time’s summer single, “Beach House,” a send-up of Tinder clichés. (“Boy No. 2 had a beautiful face / Highly agreed to go back to his place / His wife really had some impeccable taste,” she sings in an early verse.)

But Jepsen is quick to point out that, on “Beach House,” her cynicism is “very pointedly at the sharks and not the lovers.” If she’s sneaking fewer starry-eyed ideas about love into her music, it’s because she knows she’s not the only one experiencing those feelings. “I thought music was for escapism,” she says, but a recent James Taylor concert where she found herself having a cathartic cry made her realize something else: “It’s permission to feel whatever it is that you need to feel.” While she left that concert in a puddle of tears, you’re more likely to leave one of hershows bopping your head to a flawless pop earworm. Whether you want to dance or cry to your feelings, the outcome is the same: You’re feeling them to the fullest extent.

Jepsen is a notoriously prolific songwriter — she’s said to have written over 200 tracks for each of her two most recent albums, which she hones down to an album length through a complex system of sticky notes, poster board, and listening parties. But The Loneliest Time was different. Instead of writing on the road, where she solicits constant feedback from her band, she was at home plowing through ideas by herself (and, occasionally, on Zoom with her collaborators). She couldn’t go into a studio to record as often as she wanted, which meant she didn’t have her usual bounty of tracks to whittle down. Theseclusion ended up working to her advantage. “I thought what I was making was a little bit too strange to get right away,” she says tentatively, “and I didn’t want someone to stop me by saying a negative thing I wasn’t ready to take in yet. So my artwork itself had a lonely time.”

Once she shared the album with her label, she was surprised and a little panicked to find they liked the most personal tracks — ones she initially wrote “just for me” and would now, it seemed, be sharing with the world. Ahead of Coachella, where she debuted The Loneliest Time’s folksy lead single, “Western Wind,” she gathered her bandmates and had them check off their favorite tracks on a chart she’d drawn up. The results had very little in common genre-wise, but, she says, “they all came from a place sparked by loneliness.”

Jepsen thinks of The Loneliest Time as her most experimental project yet. The album ricochets from pop to folk to smooth disco, fully shifting into new genres rather than merely taking inspiration from them. There are plenty of Jepsen-style classics, too. The opening track, “Surrender My Heart,” is a straight shot of epic-sounding pop in which she sings about struggling to be vulnerable with a new partner. “Bends” also lives in the scarier parts of a new relationship (and is true to Jepsen’s recent experience: She just started seeing someone whom she says she’s slowly opening up to). “Here’s a jar of tears I cried,” she sings, “’cause I can feel the darkness sometimes too.” There’s a slow, bitter folk ballad ingeniously titled “Go Find Yourself or Whatever,” which digs painfully into the gutting parts of a breakup instead of making them sound victorious. The title track, which comes at the end of the album, steers back into optimism and sounds as if it should be played at an ’80s roller disco.

I wonder, amid all this exploration, if anything was deemed too out there for the final cut. Jepsen’s previous two records, Dedicated and Emotion, got their own B-side releases. Will The Loneliest Time get a bolder, weirder part two? “We’ll see,” she answers thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if the world’s ready for more of that indulgence.”

#carly rae jepsen #crj #carlyraejepsen #women in music #the loneliest time #the so nice tour #the cut #new york magazine #danielle cohen #tina tyrell #pop ladies #pop queens #type: link #type: text #type: photo #category: interview #category: feature #category: photoshoot #source: the cut #writer: danielle cohen #photographer: tina tyrell #song: surrender my heart #song: bends #song: go find yourself or whatever #album: the loneliest time #album: the loneliest time side b #tour: so nice #10/19/22 #october 2022 #2022

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Nature Interpretation through Music

Nature in Music and Music in Nature.

No matter how you think of it, one cannot exist without the other. They complement each other completely.

In nature you have the beautiful harmonics of life, such as the lively chirps of birds in the morning, or the crashing of waves. Nature’s acoustic melodies can be seen throughout composed music as well. Some of my earliest experience with music came from analyzing “The Four Seasons” composed by Antonio Vivaldi. His brilliant work was inspired by the playfulness of spring, the warm intensities of summer, the lively abundance of autumn, and the dark harshness of winter. This musical interpretation allows the listener to feel the unique vibrations of each season. Another great example of nature featured in created music is the use of its harmonics in the background of songs. One example of this is “Come back as a country boy” by Blake Shelton. This song starts with the sound of wind, crickets, and wolves howling in the background transporting the listener to a fireside environment, or at least that’s how I interpreted this intro. It is truly amazing how listening to a song can take you to an entirely different atmosphere.

It is hard to think of just one song to include that takes me back to a natural landscape so hears a few. The first that immediately came to my head was “Starting Over” by Chris Stapleton. This song played on every radio when I moved to Vancouver Island for the Summer of 2022. One of my favourite things about living here for that time was how emersed in nature you were any moment you left your home. I drove 50 minutes to work every day… but how could I complain? I had the ocean to my left and rolling hills of forests to my right for the entire drive. I remember seeing Black Bears, Elk, and Bald Eagles on my drive too! Highway 1 is one of the most beautiful highways I have ever seen, nothing here even compares. So now anytime I hear this song I am instantly brought back to that car starring out at the natural landscape surrounding my drive. Another song that transports me back to the natural landscape is “When the night feels my song” by Beddouin Soundclash. This used to be one of my mother’s favourite songs when I was younger. When I was ages 5-12, my family owned a mobile home on a campground where I spent most of my summers. Here I spent every day hiking through the forest trails looking for snakes and salamanders, or at the pond catching frogs and turtles. Any time I hear this song (which is often as I have it in my favourites) I am brought back to the joys being a kid and getting to spend every day in nature.

It is truly beautiful how transformative nature interpretation through various mediums can be. I am excited to read through all your experiences with nature and music.

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5 INTERESTING HOME INTERIOR DESIGN STYLES VANCOUVER

Living should be fun! The best way to achieve this is to invest in home interior design in Vancouver that suits your lifestyle and attitude. Therefore, the right decoration is not only a matter of taste, but also of personalization. But which style best suits you? It’s not so easy to keep them all in mind when furnishing your dream home with style. Look at these 5 interesting home interior design styles.

Minimalism: Can it be a little less?

Minimalism home interior design in Vancouver is all about pure, exquisite functionality and aesthetics. With the art of exclusion, minimalism crowns modern lifestyles. White, black and matte gray or neutral tones predominate. The simple-looking interior with clear lines and smooth surfaces also impresses minimal design with its modesty. Between clean materials such as glass, metal and plastic, natural light guarantees dynamism and liveliness.

Industrial Style: the charm of a workshop!

Industrial home interior design in Vancouver turns spaces into optimal living spaces. Whether in a loft, an old warehouse, a factory, or workshop, elements such as exposed bricks, concrete floors and wooden beams, pipes or suspended metal lights create a raw atmosphere. Antique stainless steel lockers, vintage chairs and bare light bulbs with colorful woven cables combine perfectly. Fixtures in warm, bright shades of brass or copper help refine the mechanical industrial charm. Rustic interiors accentuate the industrial atmosphere.

Scandinavian: elegant, bright and natural

The motto of Scandinavian home interior design in Vancouver is “Keep it simple”. The interior design of the far north reflects the relaxed mood of the Scandinavians and is always simple, with clear contours and natural materials. The pleasant white, pastel and gray tones accompany the furniture made of solid fir, birch or pine wood. Illuminated by candlelight and carefully placed lamps, richly textured fabrics such as wool, leather and soft blankets create the typical Danish atmosphere. Glass and porcelain vases with prints or floral arrangements provide fresh, lively accents.

Boho Style: creative interior

Boho home interior design in Vancouver is known as hippie style. However, long before the hippies, the English bohemians escaped bourgeois monotony and pursued the unconventional with an eccentric and creative lifestyle. Vintage furniture and decorative accessories are imaginatively combined in a light-colored environment. Voluminous armchairs, embroidered cushions and printed blankets are arranged alongside hand-woven fabrics with oriental motifs, macramé wall decorations and rugs. Light, natural earth tones can be happily combined with strong colors such as orange, violet or turquoise blue.

Scandinavian design combined with Wabi-Sabi

They are 8000 kilometers away and now they are in our homes with JAPANDI style: we are talking about Scandinavia and Japan. While at first glance it seems like a daring fusion, both styles complement each other wonderfully, even with their differences. Light colors and simple shapes bring order and calm to our hectic daily lives. The Wabi-Sabi aesthetic concept is also integrated into the JAPANDI home interior design in Vancouver.

Did you like these 5 styles? The scope for creativity in interior design is massive. If you want to invest in modern home interior design in Vancouver that speaks affordability, style and elegance, kindly get in touch with YU+ME DESIGN: the finest interior design company near you.

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