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cameronspecial · 2 months

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At Her Beck And Call

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Assault

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe may be out doing business, but he is never too busy for Y/N.

Masterlist

Everyone in the Outer Banks knows about Rafe’s explosive personality, especially towards the Pogues. The only person who is never at the wrong end of his anger is Y/N. He would never dare risk losing her by unleashing his anger on her. At the moment, she is safely at home, resting with their darling baby girl growing inside of her stomach. He is finishing up collecting the money from people who owe him from his drug dealer days. When he started dating Y/N, he stopped dealing less often; however, with a baby on the way, Rafe is ready to hang up the towel completely. Therefore, it is time for him to gather all the debts obligated to him. He finally tracks down the last person, Tanner Barrois. The Pogue is hiding out at a friend’s house but for enough money, anyone can betray their friend. Rafe bangs on the door as loud as he can and steps away from it. “What the fuck do you wan-” Tanner complains as he opens the door. Rafe gives him a wicked grin, “I want my fucking money, Asshole.” Tanner backs up into the house with his hands in the air. “I don’t have your money, but I can get it to you. I-I just need a few weeks,” he offers. Rafe shakes his head, “No, I already gave you three months. So where is my money?”

“I don’t have it!”

Rafe grips the front of Tanner’s shirt and slams him against the wall. His arm cocks, rushing towards Tanner’s nose at a fast pace. The room is silent, except for the sounds of Rafe’s fist hitting Tanner, until “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran begins to play out of nowhere. Something vibrating accompanies the song. Rafe keeps Tanner against the wall with one hand, while his other hand goes into his pocket for his phone. He brings it to his ear with a soft smile, “Hi, Dumpling. How are you and little dumpling doing?” “I’m hungry, Rafey,” the pregnant woman whines with her hands on her perturbing stomach. He chuckles, “And what can I pick up for you on my way home, Dumpling?” “I want Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream, soya sauce, pickles and mayo please,” she pleads into the phone. He grimaces, “Please, tell me you aren’t going to eat all of those together.” “I don’t know yet. I guess you’ll have to find out when you get here,” she teases, knowing he gets grossed out by her weird pregnancy cravings. He sighs, “I guess I will. I’ll get those for you once I’m finished with my business. Okay? I love you.” “Thank you. I love you too. Bye,” she hangs up without another word.

The phone gets slipped back into his pocket and his attention returns to Tanner. “Now, where were we?” He punches Tanner again, shaking his hand out to try to rid himself of the blood. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my money?” Rafe growls. Tanner whimpers, “I can get it to you by next week.” Tanner receives another blow to the head. “Not the answer I was looking for. So let’s try this once more,” Rafe warns, but he is again interrupted by the chime of his phone. “Is everything okay, Dumpling?” he worries into the speaker.

“It needs to be the tiny pickles. I don’t want the large ones. I don’t want the zig-zag cut ones or the straight-cut ones. I want the tiny ones. Okay?”

“Yes, I know, Dumpling. I promise they will be the tiniest ones I can find.”

“Good, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dumpling. Goodbye.”

Tanner’s face is in a bloody smirk. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” Rafe questions, digging his forearm into the Pogue's neck. Tanner gasps out, “You are so whipped for her.” Rafe’s eyebrows cave in and he strikes Tanner’s stomach. “Be careful what you say next, Motherfucker,” Rafe alerts. Tanner appears to have a death wish as he says the next sentence, “That bitch has your balls in a death grip and it’s pathetic.” His phone rings once more before he can reply. “Dumpling, you are really making me concerned about you,” he sighs into the phone. She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just wanted something to drink too.” “It’s okay, Dumpling. I want you to stay hydrated. So what can I get you?” he inquires. “Iced tea, please. And I promise this will be the last time I’m going to call. I’m going to take a nap while I wait for you to come home.”

“Iced tea, coming right up. Enjoy your nap, Dumpling. I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you so much, Rafey. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to come home. Muah.”

The line goes dead and he can’t help but put his phone away with a massive grin on his face. He weakens his hold on Tanner, “You better be thanking the lord that I am whipped for my girl because it is the only reason I am giving you another day to get the money. Don’t try to run because I will find you and your punishment will be so much worse than you can imagine. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go to Trader’s Joe.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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keeksandgigz · 4 months

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thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night

made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)

fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3

He had to drag you into his apartment.

In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.

"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.

"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.

He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.

"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.

He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.

"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.

"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.

"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.

You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.

"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.

But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.

So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.

This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.

You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.

Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.

"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.

“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.

“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.

“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.

So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.

So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.

So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.

After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.

Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.

"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.

"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.

"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.

"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.

"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.

"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.

"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.

You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.

"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.

After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.

"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"

You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.

“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.

He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.

“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.

This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.

The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.

You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.

"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.

So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.

You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.

"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.

He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.

He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.

"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.

He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.

"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.

"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.

Under, over, tie.

"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.

"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.

"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.

He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.

"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.

"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.

"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.

"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.

"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.

"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.

The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson blurb

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nerdysquirrel · 8 months

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The writers’ strike isn’t just about one industry. It’s about all of them. Starbucks, UPS, Trader Joe’s, Amazon, the list goes on. Class struggle in America is not new. Workers have always fought for better treatment, from steel workers in 1892 to air traffic controllers in 1981. And employers have always retaliated with dirty tactics in the name of profit, from using fire hoses on peaceful demonstrators (textile workers strike in 1912) to cutting down trees that provide shade for picketers (writers strike in 2023.)

The Entertainment Community Fund provides workers with emergency financial assistance, affordable housing, healthcare and insurance counseling, and many other services needed to survive on little to no income. One of the best things you can do to support writers and actors during this strike (besides showing up to protest with them) is donating to ECF.

If you donate in the next few days, send me a screenshot. I’ll enter you in a drawing to win this signed poster. Writers work is incredibly valuable. Without writers, there are no movies or TV, no new ideas, no more stories. Don’t let that happen. Donate by Sept 3 and I’ll do a drawing for the poster on Labor Day.

#sag aftra #wga strong #sag aftra strong #wga solidarity #writers strike #actors strike #misha collins #jensen ackles #soldier boy #gotham knights

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foxconfessor · 1 month

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Please pledge to support the strike here: https://actionnetwork.org/forms/stand-with-trader-joes-united-sign-on-in-solidarity/

#trader joe's #please reblog

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 2 years

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House Republicans are planning to launch a barrage of attacks on government institutions that administer to and support labor unions if the party takes control of the House this fall, new reporting reveals, showing that the GOP likely feels threatened by the growing labor movement that’s taken hold across the country in recent years.

Politico reports that Republicans in the House Education and Labor Committee have compiled a shortlist of labor officials to target if they take control of the House in the midterm elections. Republicans are looking to go after labor regulators in the Biden administration, like Labor Secretary Marty Walsh and National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, as well as the NLRB itself and the White House’s pro-worker task force.

Targeting these figures and curbing pro-union policies that the administration has put in place “will be one of their first orders of business,” Politico reports.

“I’ve joked with my colleagues that we will probably be holding two oversight hearings a day, because we’re going to be so busy with oversight,” Rep. Virginia Foxx (North Carolina), top GOP member of the House Education and Labor Committee, told Politico. “We’re going to hold the NLRB and [Department of Labor] accountable.”

Though major labor priorities like the Protecting the Right to Organize (PRO) Act have stalled in Congress, the Biden administration has been friendly towards unions; Joe Biden appointees like Walsh and Abruzzo have been celebrated by labor leaders as pro-union picks.

Abruzzo in particular has been examining and reconsidering federal labor laws, which are predominantly skewed toward anti-union employers, in order to remove considerable barriers that stand in the way of unions and unionizing workers. Guidance that’s been handed down by Abruzzo — which labor leaders have said is crucial to giving power back to workers — is in the Republicans’ crosshairs.

Unions and the labor movement have been seeing a major resurgence over the past year. Successful union campaigns at corporations like Starbucks, Amazon and Trader Joe’s have surged across the country, while workers increasingly leverage their power with work stoppages and strikes. These groups could potentially be at the forefront of turning around the unionization rate in the U.S., which has declined considerably over the past decades. Currently, only about 10% of workers in the U.S. are part of a labor union.

Labor advocates and progressive activists have celebrated the new energy around labor organizing, saying that such organizing is the public’s best chance of fighting the consolidated power that corporations and the wealthy exercise over the U.S. and its politicians.

Likely sensing a threat to corporate power, Republicans have already been waging efforts to combat labor organizing. Republicans on the Education and Labor Committee say they have sent 57 letters about labor and unions since Biden was inaugurated, including 26 to the Labor Department alone and eight to the NLRB.

Republicans have also attempted to address supposed “conflicts of interest” within the NLRB, though they appear to only object to pro-union officials and sentiments.

Last year, Foxx and other Republicans sent a letter asking the NLRB to address the fact that two of its members were previously employed by the Service Employees International Union (SEIU). They claimed that this constituted a conflict of interest, though the very mission of the NLRB is to protect workers’ rights and shield workers from anti-union employers.

The Republicans made no mention of an established conflict of interest from 2018 concerning former board member William Emanuel, a former shareholder in notorious anti-union law firm Littler Mendelson. Investigative reporters revealed that Emanuel had broken NLRB ethics rules when taking part in a case that directly involved Littler, which the board itself later confirmed, though Emanuel still served on the board until August of last year.

Like union-busting Starbucks lawyers, Republicans are likely angling to throw doubt into the legitimacy of the NLRB, which would then allow them to throw doubt into the legitimacy of any newly formed or existing union.

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nakedmonkey · 10 months

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shoutout to ALL the unions on strike right now SAG AFTRA, WGA, California Hotel workers, Starbucks employees trying to unionize, Trader Joe’s employees trying to unionize - it’s not fucking easy, and everyone takes a hit, but good things come from organizing, let’s fucking go!

#i'm so pumped for everyone #fuck these rich assholes there's enough for everyone #i have friends in all of these places and I know how hard they all work on all levels #no one should work 3 jobs just to make it to the next paycheck y'all wake up

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livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 1 year

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Heyo momdad! I have a friend who mentioned to me they were thinking about starting grocery shopping only once a month, only they weren't sure how to approach it, and I feel like I remember you making a post about something similar... Do you happen to know the post I'm talking about?? Tyvm

hi dear! i can't remember a specific post, i'm afraid, but i did personally switch from weekly to monthly grocery shopping at the start of the pandemic to limit my exposure, and since then i've actually expanded it to more like once every six weeks or so. i can talk a bit about how and why that works for me.

the biggest issue is that i shop for both my mom and myself, and we're both chronically ill and both have some dietary issues that mean i need to do a portion of our shopping at whole foods. the nearest one is about 45 minutes away, so it makes the most sense for me to a do a big shopping day where i hit three stores (a texas chain called h-e-b, whole foods, and trader joe's) so i only have one major expenditure of energy and gas.

i hit three stores because a) they don't all have the same items, and b) h-e-b and trader joe's have a lot of stuff for way cheaper than whole foods. i have a generally shitty memory, but i'm actually very good at remembering what things cost at the different stores.

i'm not great at meal planning, but i know the general things that i want to keep in stock (admittedly, this only works because we have two fridges and an upright freezer) and i do extensive pre-shopping planning.

i have a list in my phone of what i frequently buy at each store, and i'll add to it when i need something infrequently bought and temporarily strike out what i don't need this trip. keeping a master list helps me not forget things. i also try to have the list written in the order at which i walk through the store, so i don't get to the last aisle and find an item i needed from the other side of the store.

before i go out, i check the h-e-b and whole foods apps, because h-e-b has coupons and whole foods has sales. i mark down in the list what's on sale/has a coupon, and plan around those savings if i can. (trader joe's doesn't have an app, sales, or coupons, but their prices are always low.) i also have a pre-shopping conference with my mom so everything she needs is included in my list.

when i depart, i bring as many coolers and ice packs as can fit in the car (really important, since we live in texas). it's still often difficult to keep everything cold, and i've had the very frustrating experience of buying meat, not realizing which bag it's in, and arriving home hours later to find the meat warm. for that reason i group my cold stuff together on the checkout belt and help bag to try and keep cold things together. i'll stick produce from the beginning of the trip in a cooler, then take it out towards the end of the trip if i need that space.

it takes hours, and by the time i get home and unload everything i am fucking wiped, but in the end it just makes more sense than doing it more frequently. we've gotten used to it and it works.

in between the Big Shopping Trip, we supplement with a few things on amazon subscribe and save, usually one smallish h-e-b curbside pickup for fresh produce and anything i forgot/they didn't have last time, and i also do a pickup from a co-op called azure standard every 2-4 months or so.

azure is super helpful if you try to buy organic, have special dietary needs, or just cook/bake enough that buying 25lbs of dry beans or 50lbs of flour would be useful for you. i can get things like oats, sugar, cheese, and apples for enough of a savings that it's worth the 9% transport fee and driving out to the drop-off site now and then. it's also nice to support a smallish business and smallish farms.

NOW, having said all that, doing all this obviously consumes a great deal of my brain capacity, so shopping like this certainly isn't possible or beneficial for everyone. i happen to have an aptitude for grocery shopping and cooking, so this is the majority of what i bring to the table in terms of, you know, keeping us alive and not as ill as we would be if we had shittier diets.

i wrote this all out in case some of its useful to someone, but hey, whatever works for you is what works for you. endure and survive. ✌

also i have a shopping tag with some more advice.

ETA: also in terms of like, how to not let things go bad: i shop with the intention to either eat things that quickly spoil in the week following the trip or else freeze them soon after getting home (meat, some veg), and leave things that will last longer for after the first week (sturdier veg, fruit like apples and citrus, yogurt, eggs).

milk freezes pretty well, but i've also found it more useful to, for example, use powdered buttermilk in my baking instead of worrying about having enough milk/not using it before it spoils. i also have some quarts of shelf-stable nondairy milk on hand.

it's a big learning curve to figure out what spoils too quickly, what lasts a long time, and what work-arounds you can find, but if you get creative it can work really well.

#adulting #shopping #ask #fantasmalresplendent

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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what do you think is Spencer’s favorite food and dessert?

also do you think he eats out a lot because of the wonky work schedule? if so, does he eat healthy or like fast food/convenient

Sending so much hugs and kisses 🫂🥰

love you besite <3

yeah i've been saying he can't cook for agessss, but on the show he does talk about eating indian and he's seen eating in a few scenes

anyway, i think as a kid in college he probably ate terribly because what teenage boy doesn't want to eat a whole bunch of junk food when they don't have their parents around ?? but i think he probably realized it wasn't good for him and it didn't let his brain perform optimally quite quickly so then he kinda forced himself to eat vegetables, but it still would be takeout salads, juices, panda express noodles, and whatever he can find at trader joe's.

i know some type of asian dish seems canonically like it would be his favorite, but i actually think tacos. real Mexican tacos, though, not taco bell. And i think this because he probably didn't have a lot of home-cooked meals growing up and i'm guessing there's more authentic Mexican food in California than Las Vegas so when he went to Caltech and made friends, they'd go out for Mexican. but i think he'd be very picky about authenticity. i also think hummus is high on his favorite food list. for desserts, he def has a sweet tooth and i think his favorite is brownies and then cheesecake because he just strikes me as that type of person

#spencer reid #criminal minds

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vizthedatum · 10 months

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I saw sour cream donuts at Trader Joe’s

And a rush of emotion flooded over me

It’s ok. You’re ok

I love you so much and I wish you’d sign

So I can be free

Or at least freer than I was

I see flashes of me, drained, trying to find these donuts every time we went here

I barely see you

I don’t know who you are

But I loved you so much

I wanted to get the donuts. I really did.

I wish I could have fixed everything and we could be happy and giggling again.

But I look at myself now.

And even though grief strikes me everyday

I am more full of life than ever.

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thoughtportal · 3 months

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Trader Joe’s management has continued its intense union-busting tactics at every store that's filed for a union election and refuses to bargain in good faith with its workers. Meanwhile, Trader Joe’s crew members at stores across the country are unionizing to fight for the pay, benefits, and safe working conditions that match Trader Joe’s “progressive” image.

As Trader Joe’s management doubles down on union-busting ― we need to double down on our people power. One of the best ways to do this is when folks like you, Trader Joe’s customers, use the power of the purse to show Trader Joe’s you won’t shop there until it becomes a workplace that actually reflects the values they claim to have.

We haven’t asked customers to boycott Trader Joe’s, but as their union-busting attempts increase, we need to know how many customers will stand with us in the fight for a fair contract.

We’re asking folks to support Trader Joe’s United by signing on in solidarity and letting us know you’ll stand with us if we call for a customer strike! >>

#petition #collective action #trader joes #solidarity #workers rights #labor movement #boycott #labor unions #labor rights #call to action

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aestheticvoyage2023 · 1 year

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Day 15: Sunday January 15, 2023 - “Mama Flowers”

When Audrie started going back to work, and I asked what I could do to make a difference for her, she said only one thing - “make sure I have fresh flowers when I get home.” And its nice - it gives William and me something to do together on Sundays as we cruise to the end of our weekends together. Its our “one last trick” with Audrie making her way back to Tucson from whatever far off place shes been the past few days. We roll over to Trader Joes and pick out some lillies and William flirts with all the happy people there on a Sunday afternoon. He loves it. And I can imagine, as he grows, and we keep this little routine going, he’ll grow up loving getting flowers for his mama. A gift that will keep on giving for her lifetime.

Song: Bastille - Good Grief

Quote: “A mother's body remembers her babies--the folds of soft flesh, the softly furred scalp against her nose. Each child has its own entreaties to body and soul. It's the last one, though, that overtakes you. I can't dare say I loved the others less, but my first three were all babies at once, and motherhood dismayed me entirely. . . . That's how it is with the firstborn, no matter what kind of mother you are--rich, poor, frazzled half to death or sweetly content. A first child is your own best food forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world.But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after--oh, that's love by a different name. She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she's gone to sleep. If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away. So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams. Your heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on her cheeks. She's the one you can't put down.”― Barbara Kingsolver

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dustedmagazine · 2 years

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Punk’d History, Vol. IX: Other People’s Misery

It’s perversely apt that the stream of Danny Boyle’s Pistol (2022) I watched on Hulu was sponsored in part by HelloFresh, the meal prep and delivery service. The sponsor’s emphasis on health and safety (no more pandemic-vulnerable treks to Trader Joe’s!) initially seems completely wrong for a miniseries that engages, docudrama style, with the story of the Sex Pistols, who were not famed for their hygiene or prudence. But you don’t have to watch too far into “Cloak of Invisibility,” the first episode of Pistol, to be bemused by the show’s cleaned-up, glitzy visual aesthetic. All the soft-focus shots, the dayglo colors and beautiful people (Thomas Brodie-Sangster as Malcolm McLaren, Anson Boon as John Lydon and Maisie Williams as Pamela Rooke, AKA Jordan, are particularly provoking casting choices) accumulate, issuing in a vision of mid-seventies London that’s a poor interpretation of punk’s cankered and pimply face. Hello? Fresh? What about “Piss off!” or “Rotten”?

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Likely Boyle is the wrong fellow to be telling this tale. Pistol is redolent of the filmmaker at his most razzle-dazzle, dynamically spastic and sappy — perhaps even more so than A Life Less Ordinary (1997) or Millions (2004). The series’ stylistic tics are both somewhat trite and nostalgic for the wrong period: they evoke the mid-1990s of Irvine Welsh’s rave-and-MDMA-inspired textual oversaturations, which is also the period of Boyle’s breakthrough film, Trainspotting (1996), an adaptation of one of Welsh’s better novels. Much of Pistol takes place in night-time London, but the dark alleys and dank pubs are shot through filters that make the streetlights glisten prettily and the shadows resonate with metropolitan cool. Some gobs of spit fly, but we never feel their warm, slimy impact. It’s all too elegantly managed, too produced, to feel dangerous.

Critics have not been kind to Pistol, justifiably so, and other writers have already inventoried some of the series’ more problematic departures from the band’s well-documented history. I’m not interested in adding to that itinerary. Rather, I want to think about the series’ flabbergasting inability to understand punk and its social situatedness. It amounts to truism to note capital’s insidious ability to accommodate modes of resistance, to convert them into new markets or commodity forms. That doesn’t make the observation any less true, but Pistol’s narrative of the Sex Pistols’ miserable descent into industry and celebrity has nearly nothing new to tell us. It’s a settled fact that McLaren was largely responsible for coordinating the phenomenon called the Sex Pistols; it’s less clear that Steve Jones’s “damaged” psyche, which operates as a sort of narrative stand-in for the other band members’ social alienation, should be understood as the vulnerability that allowed for McLaren’s rank manipulations of the band. More emphatic and unwieldy is Pistol’s ham-fisted “humanization” of the band’s legend, and the worrisome way that humanization packages the series as saccharine trauma culture — which makes it sadly typical of our current cultural mood. It also mollifies the force of the Sex Pistols’ music, and that’s a very bad thing, indeed.

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We might begin with Pistol’s treatment of “Bodies.” Unlike some other reviewers, I wasn’t put off by the introduction of the character Pauline (Bianca Stephens), a real, psychologically troubled woman whose multiple abortions inspired Lydon’s lyric for the song. Her inclusion suggests that punk happened in a broad context, that multiple sorts of people were drawn to its negations and antically violent energies, that the damage was social. Pauline appears in Pistol’s third episode, also titled “Bodies”; it features numerous shots in which the 1976 bin men’s strike (an event presaging the longer and more awfully spectacular Winter of Discontent, of 1978-79) resulted in mounds of trash in ubiquitous black bags, moldering throughout the city. The mounds are a welcome bit of set-dressing in Pistol, gesturing at the economic conditions at work in the UK and forecasting the rise of Thatcher and Tory austerities to come. But Boyle understands the heaps of black bags differently. In the episode, they are symbolic echoes of the handbag Pauline clutches obsessively — which, we are given to understand, holds the decomposing remains of her aborted fetus, which she dug out of the hospital trash. The episode’s narrative logic narrows perspective. Rather than engaging the nation’s socio-economic conditions and all the proliferations of waste that inevitably result from late capital’s overproduction, Boyle insists on the significance of individual trauma.

Elsewhere in the episode, the garbage bags become a sort of playground apparatus, as the Bromley Contingent leaps into a pile of them in a fit of post-gig prankishness. Any smell of rot is canceled by the kids’ whacky laughter, their bodies’ diving delight. Still, “Bodies” is hard to domesticate. The song’s opening notes lurch and growl, among the most threatening sounds on Never Mind the Bollocks (1977). Even if it hadn’t contained the ecstatic “Fuck this and fuck that” mid-song break, “Bodies” would be a remarkable punk tune. Boyle mobilizes its menace to dramatize the four young musicians’ increasing confidence and swagger. Again, in a potentially useful move, he situates his recreation of a live performance of the song at the 100 Club Punk Special, the September 1976 two-day show that also included the Damned, Buzzocks and Siouxsie Sioux’s first gig. But none of that crucial cultural context is noted. We see Pistol’s version of the Pistols on stage, playing the song in brash attack, and we hear Chrissie Hynde (Sydney Chandler) confirm their arrival: “They’re playing as a band.” In the scene, the song’s vituperation and ugliness are transformed into small-scaled triumphalism. It’s completely tone deaf.

But the series can’t seem to help itself. Among the most irritating sequences in Pistol is a depiction of a brief beachside sojourn during the 1976 tour of Northern towns. The scene starts promisingly enough: along the coast, the band exits their van, and Jones asks, “What’s that sound?” It’s the sea, and the fact that Jones is unable to identify the noise of the tide has an effective simplicity. Immediately we understand it as a marker for his impoverished childhood, the claustrophobic enclosure of his London lifeworld. It’s a moment of class consciousness. But Boyle can’t let the moment breathe and be. The rest of the band mocks Jones’s ignorance — which is fine, of course they would. But he takes off in a mopey huff, and it’s up to Glenn Matlock (Christian Lees), of all people, to seek Jones’s side on the pebbly beach and bond over their common working-class marginality and the way it twisted their childhoods. Soon Paul Cook (Jacob Slater) and Lydon come roaring in, and the foursome frolic, wrestling and playing in the surf. One suspects it’s meant to be touching, a moment of quiet sentiment followed by the recovery of boyish joy. But it’s cloying and false. And worse, it converts the immiserations of urban, working-class experience into cheaply achieved dramatic catharsis.

Some punks, like Jones or Dee Dee Ramone, really came from abusive families, and were primed for raging rebellion. But others equally influential, like Greg Ginn or Lydon himself, came from loving families that encouraged their kids. There are flashes of that in Pistol: scenes of Cook’s drumkit set up in his parents’ bedroom, in which he would practice (“Fifteen more minutes?”); of the band playing the single “God Save the Queen” for the smiling Lydons; and of Vivienne Westwood at work in her home studio, screen printing shirts with her children. In surprising fits of cinematic restraint, Boyle shoots most of those scenes fairly straight, without the irritatingly skewed camera angles or expressionist lighting. They are more compelling for it.

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But it’s the damaged kids who get the most — and the most luridly insistent — attention in Pistol. When Sid and Nancy show up in the fifth episode (titled, inevitably, “Nancy & Sid”), they promptly proceed to dominate the narrative. It’s not the worst choice: as Nancy Spungen, Emma Appleton provides one of the series’ best performances. Convincingly crass and moronically guileless, she exudes a desperate need. Again, Pistol can’t help itself: Craig Pearce’s script needs her to sag into childish innocence, curled up under a crocheted afghan in Chrissie Hynde’s apartment; or explicitly narrating for Jones the circumstances of her sad and cruel upbringing. None of that is quite as manipulative as poor Sid (Louis Partridge) sitting in a desert chapel, somewhere between Texas and Frisco, quietly singing, “Yes, Jesus loves me” — seriously, Boyle, Pearce and a whole bunch of other folks thought that scene was a good idea. At least Appleton makes the lugubrious, mawkish moments she must play watchable, through her sheer talent.

Nancy’s gaudy presence, barely containing all her agony, is overdetermined: the overarching theme of Pistol seems to be that punk is a response to trauma, a species of acting out, inextricably linked to individual pain. An alternative theory — that the art and culture may have something to do with ideology, politics and social struggle — is kneecapped by the bullshit sloganeering and self-important philosophical wankery of McLaren, a cartoon rendered insufferably more cartoonish by Brodie-Sangster. The idea that punk might have significant origins outside of Westwood’s Sex shop is similarly poisoned by its source: Nancy’s slobbering account of Richard Hell’s style and songs. We hear only a worshipful, ditzy groupie, when we might somehow have been presented with a more useful report of New York’s hugely important early 1970s scene. And the series never shows us the barest glimpse of the great Ian Dury or Poly Styrene or the University of Leeds kids that would go on to form Gang of Four and Mekons. The only sources and signs of punk that Pistol can acknowledge are McLaren’s cynicisms, Lydon’s gerning and Jones’s guitar.

To be sure, the Sex Pistols became emblematic of punk. But there were multiple vectors and sounds that opened the musical and artistic genre. And there was more than enough suffering to go around in the mid-1970s, with its recessions and wars, its awful, real-life scenes of counter-cultural collapse. Eventually the band gets to America and San Francisco, once the site of revolutionary agents and bloody events, like the Diggers or People’s Park. By that point in the story, the series has essentially tapped out, drained of energy and splicing in footage of the real Sex Pistols to supplement the emptiness on screen. Pistol runs through the Winterland gig’s ritual enactment of bitter betrayal in about three minutes, then speeds its way back to Sid and Nancy and the abattoir at the Hotel Chelsea. It’s an unworkably constricted version of punk. The series’ obsessive inward turn, to individual wounds and scars, is a strange complement to our own inbent state in 2022: scrolling endlessly through social media feeds, fumbling at the boundaries of COVID bubbles, consuming hour upon hour of true-crime bloodletting (akin to the series’ gawking shots of Nancy’s corpse) on Netflix and Hulu and Amazon Prime — all those grotesque personalities, Bundy and Gacy and Ramirez and Candy Montgomery, too monstrous to seem anything but abnormal and titillating.

There are other things we might spend our time on. Turn off Pistol, for instance, and go back to the records. I’ve listened to Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols a lot over the past few weeks. It’s striking how transporting much of it remains, after so many years and so many, many spins: the full-throated sing-along at the end of “Seventeen” (and Lydon’s glorious reading of “I can’t even be bothered”); the intoxicating, speeding riffs of “No Feelings” and the dirty churn of “Submission”; the opening thirteen seconds of “Anarchy in the U.K.” (I still shiver); every second of “Holidays in the Sun,” a (perhaps the) peerless punk song. If we listen just a little more closely, Johnny Rotten’s infernal sneer and grinning rictus can still tell us things. We may enjoy our “cheap holidays in other people’s misery,” but the bill will still come due at the doorsteps of those least able to pay.

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Jonathan Shaw

#punk'd history #jonathan shaw #dusted magazine #sex pistols #anarchy #documentary #danny boyles #disney #hulu

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hkcoultas · 15 days

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Street Art - Week 12

Rock Stack

Location: Capistrano Beach

Description: This photo captures a delicate stack of rocks, meticulously arranged into a tall structure. These rock stacks are created by a local individual who remains anonymous, yet their presence has become a familiar sight in the neighborhood over the past year. The act of balancing these rocks symbolizes peace and equilibrium for the community. I was inspired to take this photo because each time I encounter these stacks, I'm struck by the sense of tranquility they evoke, reminding me of the importance of finding balance in our world.

Kobe Bryant Graffiti Memorial By Hung Tran

Location: Corner of Pacific Coast Highway and Golden Lantern Road, Dana Point, CA

Description: This mural, located in Dana Point, California, serves as a poignant memorial to the late Kobe Bryant. Painted by artist Hung Tran, it stands as one of 347 murals dedicated to Kobe in Southern California. Although I haven't been tracking this particular artist, Tran is well-known in the community for his impactful murals. The mural's striking depiction of Kobe against the backdrop of the seaside town prompted me to capture this photo, recognizing the duality it brings to the coastal setting. The day I took the picture, the artist was actually. fixing something!

Surf Board Art by Aaron Jack

Location: Doheny State Beach

Description: This photo showcases a repurposed surfboard transformed into a piece of art by local artist Aaron Jack. I encountered Jack's work during a visit to the local art fair at Doheny State Beach, where he was creating live spray paint pictures on surfboards. Discovering Jack's art was a new experience for me, and I was drawn to capture this image by the creativity and vibrancy of his work.

Trader Joe's Bag Art by Pancho Gallozzi

Location: Doheny State Beach (Art Fair)

Description: This photo features a Trader Joe's bag repurposed as a canvas for a painting by local artist Pancho Gallozzi. Gallozzi's innovative approach to using recycled materials caught my attention at the art fair held at Doheny State Beach. I was inspired by the environmental consciousness and artistic ingenuity reflected in his work, prompting me to capture this image.

"Free Palestine" Art

Location: Doheny State Beach (Art Fair)

Description: This photo depicts an anonymous artist wearing a black mask to conceal their identity while spray painting "Free Palestine" onto canvases of artwork. Encountered at the same art fair at Doheny State Beach, this artist's silent protest resonated deeply with me. Despite their anonymity, the powerful message conveyed through their art inspired me to capture this image, reminding me of the ongoing struggle for freedom and liberation.

Beach Painting by Anthony Paqual

Location: Capistrano Beach Description: This photo captures a captivating mural painted by local artist Anthony Paqual, situated at Capistrano Beach. Paqual, a retired military member, has become a familiar figure along the coastline, where he dedicates his time to creating thought-provoking artwork. Rather than depicting the typical scenery of the beach and sky, this particular mural portrays a striking rendition of an eye. Paqual believes that the eye is the window to the soul, and his beachside sessions involve drawing various types of eyes, each with its own unique character and expression. I was drawn to this mural not only by its visual impact but also by the profound symbolism behind it. Engaging with Paqual's artwork and learning about his perspective added depth to my appreciation of his artistry, prompting contemplation on the deeper connections between nature, perception, and the human experience.

"Dialogues in the margins," such as the street art, graffiti, and activism depicted in the photos, are instrumental in shaping public discourse and catalyzing social change. These forms of expression, often emerging from grassroots movements and local communities, play a crucial role in challenging mainstream narratives and amplifying marginalized voices. By occupying public spaces and providing alternative viewpoints on social, political, and cultural issues, street art and activism broaden the scope of public discourse, fostering critical thinking and empathy among diverse audiences. The emotional impact of these artworks compels viewers to confront uncomfortable truths and take action on pressing issues, while community engagement and empowerment build solidarity and drive collective movements for change. As individuals participate directly in shaping public discourse through creative expression and collective action, they reclaim agency and assert their right to be heard, ultimately contributing to the creation of a more just and equitable society.

As for my own involvement, I have actively participated in street protests, particularly during the 2020 demonstrations following the murder of George Floyd and in solidarity with ongoing struggles such as the genocide in Gaza. Through creating signs and joining in collective action, I have sought to contribute to these dialogues in the margins, amplifying important messages and advocating for meaningful social and political change.

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