#utilizing paula

[bluedesertbruja]

the conceptos set design is like when ur playing sims for the first time, so u make the biggest house. just giant rectangular floor plan. and now u have more space than u needed and u dont know how fill said space. and it's orange everywhere. and there are echos where there shouldn't be.

[medullamindset]

Not reader having I can fix him energy when seeing Jimmy for the first time... fails lol

NO FR!!!!!! Naive!Reader with an affinity towards 30+ year old boyfailures gets heart eyes for Jimmy trope COME HOOOME.

Makes me think of Gorillaz’s book ‘Rise of the Ogre’ when Paula Cracker say’s “But when i saw Murdoc with his thick, greasy hair, green teeth and yellow skin. I thought ‘Ooh, he’s the one for me’.” — Cuz like yeah, the Captain is right there. A blonde, blue-eyed weightlifter with good posture and a high rank. But no, the guy that looks like he crawled out of a dumpster for breakfast, he's the one you’re gonna sink your teeth into hehehu

-✿- 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 -✿-

Potential content warnings: Reader is highly naive and concerningly possessive but can a ho not have ONE red flag⁉️😸, non-canon/off-canon Jimmy, no 🍇 AU, no 🍇 to anyone is mentioned or happens, Persuasive!Reader, Jimmy kinda grows attached to R (more so the attention and affection that they give,, but its sort of ambiguous), vague allusions to regressing (mostly Jimmy), they both have issues period, brief mention of puke (not J or R's), little to no dialogue, AFAB Reader (no pronouns used), NSFW towards the end, biting and brief mention of blood.

wc: 1.7k

Initially, you were not excited to board Tulpar. But y’know, money. When you saw the flyer for the ‘PONY EXPRESS MECHANICAL INTERNSHIP’ under Swansea H., you decided fuck it. You board, float in space for a year, come home, and make some money! boom. That’s life.

Little did you know you’d hubba hubba over the guy standing behind your new Captain. The co-pilot, Jimmy.

He was so….. Ugly. Nothing like the pristine Captain Curly. Thick, angry eyebrows.. Sunken, baggy eyes.. Bulbous nose perfect for sitting on.. sad, greasy hair and that awkward white shirt.

His posture was so bad.. You just wanted to climb him like a mountain and shake his head like a snowglobe. And he smelled awful, cigarette smoke and coffee breath lingered in your nostrils when he negligently introduced himself, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down. A hint of a cheap cologne trying to overpower the potent scents — a lousy attempt.

You could’ve sworn you saw him steal a few glances at your chest while the captain spoke to you and the other intern. Making sure to streeeeetch your arms in front of you to push your boobs together.. juuust to be sure.. Yep, he's definitely looking.

Disgusting. Deliciously disgusting.

The first few weeks on Tulpar were easy, sit around in utility all day next to that other pretty idiot and listen to Swansea yap, take a few notes, stare at the wall and then run off to loom in the corner of whatever room Jimmy was holed up in for the rest of the day, and take any opportunity to help him with something.

He didn’t really pay you any mind, sure you were helpful. But dear god were you annoying? yes you were. Awkward limbs, timid shoulders and a motormouth made you up. But Jimmy would let it slide if it meant you’d bend over like this and pout like that when he said something snarky to you. God, he wanted to paint that pout with his cum, fill it to the rim, maybe then you’d shut up for once.

As annoying as it could get, it was kinda cute,.. the way you were always in his vicinity. Jimmy was never a ladies man, often ignored and scowled at by sober girls and accidentally puked on by boozed up ones before he even got the chance to take them home. So it was odd to him, how you always seemed to be there, batting your lashes at him while offering a cup of PONY EXPRESS's dingy coffee. He always took it, followed by a muttered “Thanks.”.

And he always drank it, the copious caffeine the only thing making anything on this ship tolerable. But for some reason his perception of you was always the same, whether it was "nighttime" or "daytime", a busy day or a slow day, he had a head splitting migraine or was feeling…. Jimmy. — You were always the same silly cookie. Meek and pretty and at his feet like a dog. It almost made him feel less shitty, having someone who willingly followed him around and told him things. Gave him your attention. All of it.

—

You on the other hand, really just wanted to shift that little gear in Jimmy's brain so you could embrace him, cradle his dumb head and slurp his toxicity out through his ears like spaghetti. You’re fully aware of what you’re doing, everything you say and every little touch. You’re 100% aware of yourself and Jimmy, that you’re trying to “fix” this failure of a man for your own pleasure. but there’s always that fucked up fantasy that he can be all yours. Even though it’s never gonna happen, cuz he's miserable, the idea keeps you going. You’re persistent, you’ll play this game until you get back to earth. Fine.

You’ll simply just have to get through to him and make him crave your attention, then when you get back to earth he won’t want to part ways.. you’ll be his safety net! He’ll army crawl back into your arms no matter how hard he tries to be an independent man.

And so far so good.

Four months into the trip Jimmy had started to initiate, he approached you and spoke to you whenever he needed, told you things that should be getting written down on the Psych Evals.. but they aren’t, they’re only for your ears. And by god, will you soak it all up.

Sometimes he’d sit on your bed after hours and just talk about whatever. And you, being the unworldly person you are, take the opportunity to crawl into his vulnerable lap and scratch at his beard. Eyes sparkling when you look up at him, so dazed and sappy it's sickening. Sometimes you’d interlock your hand with his. your soft, deft fingers a foreign feeling in his calloused palms.. but surprisingly, not unwelcome..

You’re so naive, so fucking childish.. yet your embrace is so motherly. Makes Jimmy feel like he's back in a gooey womb, a baby, thoughtless, with no memories, no responsibilities. He wants to shove you away, to be repulsed, but the kiss you land in his hair before combing it out with your fingers has him stuck in place. The smell of your skin all too familiar.

Jimmy is taken way aback the day you lean in and kiss the silvered scar above his lip, as if sitting in his lap- or having him in yours for that matter, and caressing his sweaty skin most nights isn’t already beyond intimate in your world.

He looks down at you puzzled, squinting as if turning you blurry will spell your intention out to him like some sort of hidden message.. but when he fixes his eyes again all he finds is your dark, enamoured stare. You smile up at him all dopey, and he almost smiles back.. just almost.

“Damn. Here i am spilling my guts.. Are you even listening or are you too busy lusting?” he quips lowly, zealous stares unfaltering. Maybe it's in your head, but you swear there's a similar glint in his eyes as there most certainly is in yours when he looks down at you.. 

“Yeah, yeah.. i am. Curly pisses you off and you wish it was you instead of him, blah blah blah.. Power, blah blah blah authority. Now kiss me back, you wuss.” You murmur before straightening up, leaning in and dragging your lips across his, feather light, a tickle. Jimmy wants to be annoyed that you’re disregarding his ranting, a part of him is.. but it’s quickly shoved aside when he considers your offer and punches his lips into yours, taking you up on that offer with all teeth and tongue, his free hand tangling in your hair and holding you in place. Exactly where he wants you -- This is exactly what you wanted. Jimmy thinks he has the control, but he's too deep in it now, he doesn’t realize how much you know now, how bad you could screw him over if you really wanted. But you’ll let him play the dominant one, that way he won’t shy away from the bond you’ve created.

It’s everything but chaste when your back hits the mattress -- Jimmy blankets your body with his and attacks your skin with his mouth, slobbering all over you and hastily pulling your clothes off piece by piece. 

He paints your neck and chest in the nastiest of bruises as he snaps his hips into yours.. to the best of his abilities. Jimmy’s had a funny hip ever since an incident that landed him in jail a few years ago, said jail Curly had to bail him out of. So keeping a steady pace takes a little more effort than it should need to, tearing carnal groans and grunts from him, a cold string of saliva connecting his lower lip to your nipple, perked up and pinkish from his reverent tongue.

You chant his name like a prayer, each letter falling off your tongue so sinfully. Tugging at his hair and cradling his head in the same way you do when he feels regressed in your lap, a puddle of thoughtless nothingness, nothing but TV snow playing in his head, lulled by your heartbeat.. It's addicting, Jimmy’s eyes roll back to his brain behind his shut lids.

Your pretty little face contorts into a pained expression. The sex in itself isn’t painful, it’s the committed rhythm of his tip ramming straight into your g-spot, punching into it in a way that has your vocals reduced to squeaks and labored gasps in no time. The carnal impression you've been craving since that first brief eyecontact at the station satistfying something deep inside the core of your soul.

“Jimmy!!” He knows, he can feel it, you're squeezing him so tight, eagerly sucking him into you, your heels pressing into his lower back to aid in the action, holding him impossibly close before cramping up at his sides.

Jimmy..   Jimmy..!   Jimmy!!

Jimmy cums not long after you, he could’ve been selfish and only chased his own high. But you’re too important now, you’ve become a part of his routine, and he will not screw that up. The way you’re pulsing around him is way too addicting anyways. Jimmy fucks you through your high, biting down on you in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, the faintest taste of iron sinking into his tastebuds and the way you rub and scratch at his worn back arisen his senses. He tongues at the crimson stains on your neck and pulls out just in time to rut against your pubes, cussing up a storm as he spills onto your twitching stomach. 

He pulls back and wipes it off with a stray sock from the corner of your bed.

The room reeks of sweat and sex as he lies with you, fitting himself between your limbs like a puzzle piece after you’ve turned to your side, your thighs slotting perfectly into the dips of his waist and arms caging him against your sternum where he breathes you in. The room falls silent as Jimmy’s fingers draw on the skin of your back, soft drags occasionally interrupted by a possessive scratch. The faint tickles and pokes of his bitten-down nails lulling you to sleep soon enough.

You’ll keep doing this till one of you dies. You’re never gonna fix Jimmy, there's no such thing.. But you can dream, and so can he. It’s fucked up and carnal, and it’s not "love". But it’s yours, and you’ll hide Jimmy in your chest for as long as it works.

I got a little too into it i think-

[fatsackfails]

Tonight's episode of Never Stop Blowing Up was amazing. So many explosions, so many great character moments, so many unhinged words to speak out loud around 80s action NPCs

Ify making the decision to be able to tap into Vic Ethanol to help guide Wendell is such a cool choice to commit to, and it's great seeing the other players utilize it as well with their action movie personas

I love Izzy so much and hearing her try to fake a Brooklyn accent as Paula made me cackle so much I started to cough 😂

Brennan also looks hot in that outfit. Needs to wear leather jackets more often I think 🤔

[itsjustevil]

I think what I really what the whole "Character who's body we're in communicating with and guiding us" thing is that each of the players has a very different take on that dynamic and how that works.

-Ify coming up with the idea and implementing it in a way to really develop and evolve his character, personally crafting his own arc for Wendell without too much influence from Brennan and expertly utilizing Vic to see it through.

-Jack "The thing about divorce is that you'll always get back together" Manhattan not actually having much to offer Paula, but still giving her validation that hypes her up in the short term.

-Liv and Kingskin's big moment together being the scene where they just slowly crush a man's head in, showing Kingskin to be kind of just as out of his element as Liv is, and Liv later stating that her biggest takeaway about Kingskin is that "He's hot." These two probably aren't on the same page, but I think they have more in common then they think.

-Rekha's a fucking genius for what she's doing with Usha and G13. Instantly creating a compelling situation by subverting the other dynamics, having G13 working to take control over Usha for his own personal goals.

-Dang not really having dipped into Mr. Stocks at all because he's been immersed in living the action movie makes a lot of sense, and helps to really set his arc part.

-Like Dang, Russell hasn't really communicated with Jennifer yet, but I that's because Ally hasn't gotten a chance to do that yet because Russel/Jennifer has been either busy playing the straight man, looking after Dang, or getting their head kicked in for basically an entire episode. I think these two have a lot in common and it would be neat seeing them learn from each other.

[mariacallous]

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump on Thursday signed an executive order aiming to slash public subsidies to PBS and NPR as he alleged “bias” in the broadcasters’ reporting.

The order instructs the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and other federal agencies “to cease Federal funding for NPR and PBS” and further requires that that they work to root out indirect sources of public financing for the news organizations. The White House, in a social media posting announcing the signing, said the outlets “receive millions from taxpayers to spread radical, woke propaganda disguised as ‘news.’”

It’s the latest move by Trump and his administration to utilize federal powers to control or hamstring institutions whose actions or viewpoints he disagrees with. Since taking office, Trump has ousted leaders, placed staff on administrative leave and cut off hundreds of millions of dollars in funding to artists, libraries, museums, theaters and others, through takeovers of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities. Trump has also pushed to withhold federal research and education funds from universities and punish law firms unless they agreed to eliminate diversity programs and other measures Trump has found objectionable.

The broadcasters get roughly half a billion dollars in public money through the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and have been preparing for the possibility of stiff cuts since Trump’s election, as Republicans have long complained about them.

Paula Kerger, PBS’ CEO and president, said in a statement last month that the Trump administration’s effort to rescind funding for public media would “disrupt the essential service PBS and local member stations provide to the American people.”

“There’s nothing more American than PBS, and our work is only possible because of the bipartisan support we have always received from Congress,” she said. “This public-private partnership allows us to help prepare millions of children for success in school and in life and also supports enriching and inspiring programs of the highest quality.”

[milkcanslam]

Do you have any headcanons or know any obscure facts about Paula Fox? Because she has a cool design, but I feel like the anime didn't give her much to do outside of being "girl character #3".

I kinda agree but honestly not the best to ask about Paula fox in a canon sense since I've havent finished the anime. I dont plan on watching it anytime soon. All i know is that she's a tomboy and that she likes sports as well as fashion.

One interesting facet about her is that she was supposed to be in a band in the anime. but it was never utilized as far as i know.

The second image was translated so keep that in mind lol

For my personal headcanons for her would be:

She had a crush on Katy when they were in the same class (in the anime's universe) but it was never reciprocated because she never confessed.

If she ever gets reintroduced in a new game, she'd still retain her antagonistic tendencies/attitude towards Katy like in episode 1. In essence she's Katy's foil like how Joe Chin is parappa's foil and Rammy is Lammy's foil. Well she's obviously still Katy and Parappa's friend compared to Rammy and Joe chin, they'll just have friendly competition. Be it fashion design or singing.

She and Matt would be two years younger than the PTR cast, to make sense of the age inconsistency.

If she decides on making a band, her band mates would be Rammy (as the guitarist) and PJ (as the producer/drummer-adjancet). Rammy would have declined to join but she saw an opportunity to "get back" at Lammy (as always...) and PJ... just because lol.

Rammy and Paula butt heads because Rammy doesn't believe in Paula's leadership. PJ's neutral, he'll usually not intervene unless it gets too heated. They usually dont hangout unless its practice or a gig. the band would probably disband fairly quickly lel.

Since she's a fox, her fur will change depending on alot of things. When she grows up to adult age, she'll have the more traditional orange, black and white fox coat. As well as the elongation of her snout. Every winter she'll have a white coat to accommodate

[sebastianthecollectorandcreator]

The Loud House S06E23B Lynn And Order Deep Dive

From What I Remember Reading, This At Least Has Her Get Put On A Leash After What "Schooled" Did With Her Character.

It's Nice To Have Lynn And Liam As Co-Leads Again. Maybe This Time, He Could Rein Her In.

I Think The Lynn/Liam Pairing Is Proof That Lynn Needs Someone To Bounce Off Of When Paula, Margo, And The Others Aren't Cutting It. It's Like I Said About Carl, Adelaide, And Alexis On Blue Sky:

Maybe One Day, We'll See A Lincoln/Lynn Episode Like "Diss The Cook" Again.

Please Don't Feed The Lynn Haters Like This.

"It Was Chandler Who Locked Me In Here"

Come On, Enough Of The Teases, I Want Lynn To Fight Chandler.

It's Nice To See Highlights QT Back.

Looks Like He Appears To Be The Owner Of The Pope's Greatest Enemy: The Bobcat. Don't Believe Me? Ask Norm Macdonald.

"Late Again, Stinkin'?"

Now That I Think About It, Barring This Episode And The Episode That Shall Not Be Named (Both Of Which Where She's A Co-Lead), This Season Is Continuing The Trend Of Where "Stinkin'" Is Uttered In Episodes Where She's Not A Main Character. Now That I Think About It, It Seems Like In Many Episodes In This Season And The Prior Season, When They Don't Plan On Really Utilizing Her, Lynn's Only There To Either Be A Vehicle For A Gross-Out Gag Or Call Lincoln "Stinkin'" Just To Give Her Something To Do.

Also, I Hope The Following Seasons Give Her More To Do Without The Baggage Of "Schooled" Or The Episode That Shall Not Be Named Holding Her Back.

[apod]

2024 January 21

The Upper Michigan Blizzard of 1938 Image Credit: Bill Brinkman; Courtesy: Paula Rocco

Explanation: Yes, but can your blizzard do this? In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan's Storm of the Century in 1938, some snow drifts reached the level of utility poles. Nearly a meter of new and unexpected snow fell over two days in a storm that started 86 years ago this week. As snow fell and gale-force winds piled snow to surreal heights, many roads became not only impassable but unplowable; people became stranded, cars, school buses and a train became mired, and even a dangerous fire raged. Two people were killed and some students were forced to spend several consecutive days at school. The featured image was taken by a local resident soon after the storm. Although all of this snow eventually melted, repeated snow storms like this help build lasting glaciers in snowy regions of our planet Earth.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240121.html

[graphx]

Sorryyyyyy I’ve been listening to the TPN S2 OST

I’m not even that much of a sound design enthusiast in general but I’m reading the goldy pond arc and I’m in absolute MOURNING just thinking about what we could have had (DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANTED TO SEE AN 11 YEAR OLD PUNCH HER FUTURE FATHER FIGURE IN THE BALLS???!?!????!)

Muijika’s theme fits her so perfectly I’m thinking about the other characters having their own

Would Yuugo’s be discordant at the beginning? Would that part play during his mental breakdown and fade out when he passes out? Would it get more orchestral and similar to Emma’s as it goes on? Would it be victorious and notable before you ever see the camera pan up to a smoking rooftop after he breaks leuvis’ds mask? Would it synchronize with Ray because he’s on the rooftop with him??

 Would his theme reference tea parties? Would it get more hopeful by the time it gets back to the bunker?? Symbolising that he accepts his new family??? WOULD IT BE IN TUNE WITH NAT’S COOL KING BALLAD?? WOULD IT PLAY WHEN EMMA WAKES UP FROM HER COMA??

Would it be complementary Lucas’s??Would they harmonize when they finally see each other again???

Would Oliver’s theme be similar to Emma’s to symbolize being leaders of their respective groups? Would it mirror Ray’s when he asks to be left behind???

Would the techno themes be more present whenever minerva is mentioned to foreshadow their technology being more advanced than anything they have had before (like in the testing rooms?)

WOULD THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN GOLDY POND IS PREPARING MIRROR THE TRAINING MUSIC THAT PLAYED FOR THE GRACE FIELD KIDS???

When Emma throws the axe at Luce would you be able to hear it slice through the air? The billow of Leuvis’s ridiculously dramatic cape? Could you hear the children breathing heavily as they run away? Would you only be able to hear jake, monica and theo’s running because violet and emma are used to hiding their footsteps????

Would Emma and Ray’s footsteps in the forest get softer and softer the more they learn and watch from yuugo?? WOULD THEIR FEET NOT CLICK ON THE CONCRETE??

Would Nous talk in an overlap with Nouma’s voice after he eats her? Would Nous’s scream of outrage be good enough voice acting to rival emma’s iconic scream from the first episode?? Would it sound so viscerally human for a moment you feel bad for them??

Would you hear rustles in the trees despite nous and noma aren’t moving to foreshadow paula and violet getting into sniping position??

Would the snap of the wires they set up for traps sound different when they spring them depending on how dangerous they are?

WOULD THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN THE MONSTERS ARE COMING BE LIKE SIRENS OR A DISTORTED/EERIE CHEERFUL VIBE??

Would the guns nigel specifically engineered have a different sound compared to regular bullets? Would Emma’s flash bullet have a shrill sound that freezes everything as the bullet hits leuvis in slow motion?

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE ROTATING CAMERA ANGLES I WANTED TO SEE!!! UTILIZING THE POV SHOTS FROM THE FIRST SEASON ONLY THIS TIME ITS THE DEMONS BEING WATCHED!!?!??!

Would the scene when Emma gets stabbed and goes into an underwater dream state have more muffled music (maybe a mix of her own theme, Norman’s and Isabella’s lullaby) that gets louder and clearer the more she regains conciousness?

These are all incredibly specific and unrealistic expectations but I think I deserve to be a little delusional when it comes to this show

I’d love to hear any sounds you also would have loved to hear in tpn Season 2 (done right)!!!!

[stalkedbytrains]

Would You Like to Buy a Vacuum From Beyond the Realm of Human Comprehension?

It was almost 6 in the evening. This late in the summer, the sun would be going down in the next hour or so. Paula was going to have to lock up and double check her wards soon. Without the sun, things would get bad, she just had the feeling.

Like always, she started at the back of the house, checking the witching jars hidden among the double row of sunflowers that ringed her house. The witching jars had confirmed utility against the Wet Things, but the sunflower was merely a superstition that Paula inherited from her mother and her mother’s mother. The story was that devils and other dark things wouldn’t cross the flowers of the sun.

There was no empirical, scientific measurement to prove that was true when salt and silver worked so much better. But the comfort that the flowers brought to Paula was immeasurable.

The sunflowers follow the sun with their bright yellow and black faces, and for a moment Paula swears that they turn towards the front of her house, much lower than the actual sun approaching it’s inevitable daily end.

Then there was a loud, but not impolite, knock at her front door.

It wasn’t too late for visitors, but an uncommon time for one to be sure.

Paula quickly goes back inside, locking her door with brass lock and salt on the ground. She moved quickly through her small home to the front door. Through the looking glass she tried to spy who it was, for a brief second all she could see was a wide smile and an errant ray of sunshine temporarily blinded her before resolving into a charming looking woman in a brown leather hat, radiant smile, and wavy yellow hair that reminded Paula of the comforting feeling of her long ago lost first great love.

“Hello ma’am, I was wondering if you were interested in buying a vacuum. I can promise you that you’ll never see another opportunity like this again in your life,” the woman says, her voice like spring, refreshingly warm.

Vacuums, old world tech, from the world before the Shift, before the Slip, and well before the Fall. She’s heard stories of a seller of vacuums wandering the wastes beyond the Dust Desert just outside of town, but Paula never believed them.

“Who are you?” Paula asks cautiously, one hand on the door knob, the other on a worn and dusty sickle, kept near the door for protection.

The seller speaks a name that slips from Paula’s mind in a way that should have concerned her but resolved a moment later into “Eloise”.

Paula takes a pinch of the salt from the floor around the threshold, and opening the mailbox she flicks some out, hitting the woman in the worn traveling boots. Nothing sparked or bled smoke.

The saleswoman didn’t flinch.

“I shall submit to a test of silver or a trial of riddles if you so choose.” 

Paula cracks open the door and slips out the edge of her sickle, not pure silver, but enough to damage anything that would darken her doorstep. The saleswoman, still smiling, extends a hand and pricks her finger against the blade.

“Satisfied or shall I recite a limerick for you to prove-”

Paula undoes a rune and a lock and opens the door. “What do you want? The sun is going to be going down soon, and I have wards to check.”

“I shall take only a few moments of your time, I shall be gone long before the sun will set, and you have my utmost promise that you shall be entirely safe while I’m on your doorstep,” the woman says in response.

The seller was pretty. At first, Paula thought, in an ordinary way, but as she kept looking the woman grew prettier among the details.

She smiled at Paula. “Would you be interested in a vacuum cleaner, ma’am? I can promise you, you’ve never seen one like this before. May I come in?”

The smile was so warm and disarming, that Paula found herself wanting to say yes. She knew she shouldn’t, there had to be a trick to it, but there was something safe about this woman named Eloise.

Paula let her inside. “Fine. But make it quick.”

Another charming smile, or perhaps the same one never left her face since she first knocked at the door.

The saleswoman swept into the house, her wheeled case barely making a sound.

Paula locked the door behind her and turned expecting to see the saleswoman opening her big case to reveal the product. Instead, Eloise was already facing her, vacuum already out and ready to be shown off.

It wasn’t a pretty thing, if Paula was perfectly honest. A pale yellow and red contraption, that was actually a little garish if she looked too long at it. As best as she could tell it appeared to be some kind of… molded plastic bags hung with some stainless steel acting as a base or foundation. Paula was positive there were no more factories, at least within 500 miles of the Dust Belt that she lived on the ever encroaching edge of, that could manufacture molded plastic like they used to in the Old Old World.

“There you have it, the last vacuum you will ever need,” Eloise said with a bright smile.

Now that the salesperson was within Paula’s house it was easier to get a good look at her. Well worn traveling boots that went up to her knee. Sensible pants. A long, brown leather duster. A wide brim hat. All of it sensible, all of it a bit dusty from the world outside the door. But she seemingly lacked the things that every traveler of the Dust Belt needed: a mask, eye protection, a weapon. Eloise was either foolish, or… completely unafraid of the fate that comes with testing the creatures of dust and shadow that haunt the nights and spaces between.

Paula was going to ask a question but Eloise continued with her speech before she could put a voice to the thought.

“Of course it is solar powered, so if you simply leave it in a sunny spot for 6 hours or so it will fully charge up. A battery will last at least 3 days of hard use, which I’m sure you’ll find plenty of out here. And I know how important solar power is out here with your… faulty electric grid. Things haven’t been the same since the fall of Niagara.”

Niagara. An old name, from before even the first Fall. A name that none would recognize, save possibly Paula, who was a researcher of the Before, trying to save or reconstruct the history and technology of that bygone world.

“You know of Niagara?” Paula asked.

Eloise smiled, this time a knowing smile. “I do. It was a sight. The way the sun would cause rainbows in the water spray.” The salesperson went quiet for a moment, as if remembering something from long ago.

“I shall not bore you with the technical details but this unit has one of the greatest filters you’ll likely ever see. It captures dirt and dust and collects it here in the back.” Eloise taps the back of the unit, the bulkiest part but one that still fit the relatively slim design. “You’ll only need to change it out once every solar year. And I see that you are a woman who is a firm believer in the power of salt circles. If you flip this switch here, you active a special mode unique to this model that will divert and purify any salt you collect and put it here in this little detachable container. This will allow you to clean your whole house and reuse any salt you collect in a new circle.”

“That’s very impressive,” Paula had to admit.

“And if you need to get into those hard to reach nooks and crannies, well we have this extension,” Eloise says as she pulls out a plastic tube that bends and folds while making strange little noises that ends in a foot and a half long silver metal… nozzle for lack of a better word. The extension was strange and didn’t seem to belong to the rest of the vacuum.

“It has a little hole at the tip and it allows you to really get into those corners and clean up any dust mites trying to break in and undo your home’s safety. And it is made with consecrated siderite so in a pinch it will function as a fairly lethal weapon.”

“Surely this cannot work as well as you are selling it.” Paula was suspicious and growing more so by the second. “I’m afraid this isn’t for me.”

“May I do a demonstration? To prove to you my product’s efficacy?”

Paula sighed. There was something about Eloise that she couldn’t just outright refuse. If all else fails she’s going to have a clean carpet. “Fine.”

“When you purchase this model it comes with a manual that tells you how to clean and take care of the unit, but it also gives helpful tips on how to vacuum, and certain patterns for bestowing certain benefits of having a clean room. I’ll do a very basic anti- clockwise pattern for metamorphosis and a feeling of bountiful energy.”

Eloise turned on the vacuum, which wasn’t as loud as Paula thought it would be. She stood in place near the threshold of the room that lead towards the front door and the stairs up to her bedroom. No matter how Eloise turned and moved in strange circular patterns pointing out how things are working and the beauty of a clean and open space, Paula never saw her turn her back. This bright and chipper woman seemed to be exceedingly careful, perhaps more so than Paula gave her credit for. But even knowing that Eloise wouldn’t ever turn her back on her, Paula tried to look for the movements, to catch her turning in a strange way to move around her living room, but she never caught it. She was just always looking at Paula or in a slight profile. It was exceedingly odd.

In the demonstration, Eloise pointed out a few rogue dust devils that Paula had missed in her earlier cleaning. They were strong enough to do anything yet, but if they were clever, in a few days they could start undoing wards overnight and invite something truly nasty inside or become something nasty themselves. Eloise and the vacuum destroyed them with minimal effort or fuss, which is more than Paula could have done.

After collecting some of the salt that was picked up in the demonstration and reapplying it to the circles and wards the demonstration ended.

“It is a very impressive machine you have there,” Paula admitted. “What’s the catch? What payment do you want for it?”

Eloise smiled, wide, bright, and a touch predatory. “I want very little. I like knowing that I can help keep people safe and warm. Just on days that you can see the sun, I’d like you to go outside and stand in its brilliance and say a word of thanks. No more than 10 minutes of quiet contemplation in the sun, on sunny days.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Paula felt the hair on the back of her arms stand up. Her skin felt tingly and warm. The room bristled with energy and she felt more awake and alert. Maybe that’s why she only now noticed that Eloise had the most brilliant yellow-gold eyes. A color not natural to humans.

“You promise that’s it?”

Eloise took one of Paula’s hands in her own tanned, warm, worn hands and held them there for a moment. “I swear it.”

Paula had heard stories of deals made with devils and Saints, genies, and the Wet Things. None of them went well. But those were stories, legends. Weren’t they? This pretty woman behind her was offering a simple tool to help her maintain her small home and stay safe. And she only asked for thanks in the sun on sunny days. This close to the Dust Belt, there were only so many days she could see the sun when it wasn’t covered by swirling dust storms.

“Very well,” Paula said, taking the deal.

“Wonderful!” Eloise beamed at her. “You can take this model right now. Or I can put in an order for you for a different color scheme or an advanced model with more luxury features that I don’t think you’ll need.”

“If you’re willing to part with this one, I can take this one right now.”

“That is agreeable.”

The bargain was struck and the deal made, and Eloise made to leave. She walked backwards telling Paula to study her new owner’s manual, and Paula swore that the sunflower heads followed the mystery salesperson as she walked up the sidewalk and then away into the approaching evening where Paula just suddenly lost sight of her.

[askstufftothechosenfour]

Alrighty, it’s response time:

Ness and Paula(4): Oh, that’s not good.

Poo (1): You got it! Oh, wait, no you didn’t. I’m just messing with you.

Jeff(2): Feels good don’t it. M-I-S-S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G.

End of question joke: Florida State’s Entrance Exam was utilized for this question. Just wanted to let you know.

"Also, wait, what?"-👓

[skin-care1]

 The best beauty products for achieving glowing skin

 

1. Chemicals: The Groundwork of a Decent Skincare Schedule

A chemical is fundamental for eliminate soil, oil, and debasements from your skin. Pick an item fit to your skin type:

For Dry Skin: Use hydrating chemicals like CeraVe Hydrating Facial Cleaning agent or Neutrogena Hydro Lift Cleaning agent. These items contain hyaluronic corrosive and ceramides to keep up with dampness.

For Slick/Skin break out Inclined Skin: Go for gel-based cleaning agents, for example, La Roche-Posay Effaclar Gel Cleaning agent or Paula's Decision Clear Pore Normalizing Cleaning agent, which target abundance sebum and skin inflammation causing microbes.

For Delicate Skin: Take a stab at relieving choices like Aveeno Ultra-Quieting Frothing Cleaning agent or Eau Thermale Avène Delicate Milk Cleaning agent to keep away from disturbance.

#best beauty

2. Toners: Adjusting and Preparing the Skin

Toners assist with reestablishing the skin's pH balance and set it up for the following stages:

For Hydration: Search for toners with fixings like rose water or glycerin. Famous decisions incorporate Thayers Flower Petal Witch Hazel Toner or Klairs Graceful Arrangement Unscented Toner.

For Peeling: Utilize corrosive based toners like Pixi Shine Tonic (with glycolic corrosive) or The Customary Glycolic Corrosive 7% Conditioning Answer for delicate shedding and more brilliant skin.

3. Exfoliators: Eliminating Dead Skin Cells

Peeling is urgent for a gleaming composition. Use it 2-3 times each week relying upon your skin type:

Actual Exfoliators: Items like Dermalogica Everyday Microfoliant or St. Ives Brilliant Skin Shedding Scour (with L-ascorbic acid) are really great for guaranteed perfection.

Substance Exfoliators: For more profound peeling, attempt Paula's Decision Skin Consummating 2% BHA Fluid Exfoliant (for skin inflammation inclined skin) or Inebriated Elephant T.L.C. Sukari Babyfacial (for in general lighting up).

4. Serums: Designated Medicines for Brilliance

Serums are concentrated definitions that target explicit skin concerns:

For Lighting up: Items with L-ascorbic acid, as SkinCeuticals C E Ferulic or The Normal Ascorbic Corrosive 8% + Alpha Arbutin 2%, are incredible for night out complexion.

For Hydration: Serums with hyaluronic corrosive, for example, The Conventional Hyaluronic Corrosive 2% + B5 or Vichy Minéral 89 Serum profoundly hydrate.

For Against Maturing:Retinol-based serums like RoC

Click on this link for more information

[triscribe]

Time Traveller's Guidebook sounds really interesting!

So back when YJ S2 had just finished and everyone was still reeling from fresh Wally Feels, I wrote a time travel fic out of pure self indulgence and as a means of going 'this IS how you're planning to fix this, right??'

With the subsequent seasons and my evolving next generation line-up, I'd kind of like to do a re-vamp of that story, with adult Irey Paula West as the Flash coming back in time with her son and Kid, Darren McGinnis - both speedsters, but she's got some compact crossbows and he's wearing a Bat-utility belt plus escrima sticks over his shoulders.

(My next gen includes Dick Grayson adopting pre-teen Terry and small child Matt, both of them taking turns as Robin before upgrading to other suits. Just because I adore the mental image of Terry as Robin, Irey as Kid Flash, and Princess Mareena as Aquagirl as a mirror to our original trio of boys)

Anywho, Irey and Dare get dropped either back in time or into a parallel reality, and proceed to enjoy some sight-seeing before heading home, even if they do manage to keep spoilers to a minimum. Still debating if I want to plop them down immediately post S2 for some 'yeah Dad's still alive, he's just stuck in the Speed Force, it took about six years for him to get back out' reassurance, or if I'd rather send them to post S1 for some antagonizing sixteen year old Wally shenanigans. If I do go the season one route, you can bet there'll be an exchange along the lines of "I've always wanted to see Mount Justice before it got blown up" which is a statement that Does Not Improve with Context x'D

[stalkedbyplanes]

Would You Like to Buy a Vacuum From Beyond the Realm of Human Comprehension?

It was almost 6 in the evening. This late in the summer, the sun would be going down in the next hour or so. Paula was going to have to lock up and double check her wards soon. Without the sun, things would get bad, she just had the feeling.

Like always, she started at the back of the house, checking the witching jars hidden among the double row of sunflowers that ringed her house. The witching jars had confirmed utility against the Wet Things, but the sunflower was merely a superstition that Paula inherited from her mother and her mother’s mother. The story was that devils and other dark things wouldn’t cross the flowers of the sun.

There was no empirical, scientific measurement to prove that was true when salt and silver worked so much better. But the comfort that the flowers brought to Paula was immeasurable.

The sunflowers follow the sun with their bright yellow and black faces, and for a moment Paula swears that they turn towards the front of her house, much lower than the actual sun approaching it’s inevitable daily end.

Then there was a loud, but not impolite, knock at her front door.

It wasn’t too late for visitors, but an uncommon time for one to be sure.

Paula quickly goes back inside, locking her door with brass lock and salt on the ground. She moved quickly through her small home to the front door. Through the looking glass she tried to spy who it was, for a brief second all she could see was a wide smile and an errant ray of sunshine temporarily blinded her before resolving into a charming looking woman in a brown leather hat, radiant smile, and wavy yellow hair that reminded Paula of the comforting feeling of her long ago lost first great love.

“Hello ma’am, I was wondering if you were interested in buying a vacuum. I can promise you that you’ll never see another opportunity like this again in your life,” the woman says, her voice like spring, refreshingly warm.

Vacuums, old world tech, from the world before the Shift, before the Slip, and well before the Fall. She’s heard stories of a seller of vacuums wandering the wastes beyond the Dust Desert just outside of town, but Paula never believed them.

“Who are you?” Paula asks cautiously, one hand on the door knob, the other on a worn and dusty sickle, kept near the door for protection.

The seller speaks a name that slips from Paula’s mind in a way that should have concerned her but resolved a moment later into “Eloise”.

Paula takes a pinch of the salt from the floor around the threshold, and opening the mailbox she flicks some out, hitting the woman in the worn traveling boots. Nothing sparked or bled smoke.

The saleswoman didn’t flinch.

“I shall submit to a test of silver or a trial of riddles if you so choose.” 

Paula cracks open the door and slips out the edge of her sickle, not pure silver, but enough to damage anything that would darken her doorstep. The saleswoman, still smiling, extends a hand and pricks her finger against the blade.

“Satisfied or shall I recite a limerick for you to prove-”

Paula undoes a rune and a lock and opens the door. “What do you want? The sun is going to be going down soon, and I have wards to check.”

“I shall take only a few moments of your time, I shall be gone long before the sun will set, and you have my utmost promise that you shall be entirely safe while I’m on your doorstep,” the woman says in response.

The seller was pretty. At first, Paula thought, in an ordinary way, but as she kept looking the woman grew prettier among the details.

She smiled at Paula. “Would you be interested in a vacuum cleaner, ma’am? I can promise you, you’ve never seen one like this before. May I come in?”

The smile was so warm and disarming, that Paula found herself wanting to say yes. She knew she shouldn’t, there had to be a trick to it, but there was something safe about this woman named Eloise.

Paula let her inside. “Fine. But make it quick.”

Another charming smile, or perhaps the same one never left her face since she first knocked at the door.

The saleswoman swept into the house, her wheeled case barely making a sound.

Paula locked the door behind her and turned expecting to see the saleswoman opening her big case to reveal the product. Instead, Eloise was already facing her, vacuum already out and ready to be shown off.

It wasn’t a pretty thing, if Paula was perfectly honest. A pale yellow and red contraption, that was actually a little garish if she looked too long at it. As best as she could tell it appeared to be some kind of… molded plastic bags hung with some stainless steel acting as a base or foundation. Paula was positive there were no more factories, at least within 500 miles of the Dust Belt that she lived on the ever encroaching edge of, that could manufacture molded plastic like they used to in the Old Old World.

“There you have it, the last vacuum you will ever need,” Eloise said with a bright smile.

Now that the salesperson was within Paula’s house it was easier to get a good look at her. Well worn traveling boots that went up to her knee. Sensible pants. A long, brown leather duster. A wide brim hat. All of it sensible, all of it a bit dusty from the world outside the door. But she seemingly lacked the things that every traveler of the Dust Belt needed: a mask, eye protection, a weapon. Eloise was either foolish, or… completely unafraid of the fate that comes with testing the creatures of dust and shadow that haunt the nights and spaces between.

Paula was going to ask a question but Eloise continued with her speech before she could put a voice to the thought.

“Of course it is solar powered, so if you simply leave it in a sunny spot for 6 hours or so it will fully charge up. A battery will last at least 3 days of hard use, which I’m sure you’ll find plenty of out here. And I know how important solar power is out here with your… faulty electric grid. Things haven’t been the same since the fall of Niagara.”

Niagara. An old name, from before even the first Fall. A name that none would recognize, save possibly Paula, who was a researcher of the Before, trying to save or reconstruct the history and technology of that bygone world.

“You know of Niagara?” Paula asked.

Eloise smiled, this time a knowing smile. “I do. It was a sight. The way the sun would cause rainbows in the water spray.” The salesperson went quiet for a moment, as if remembering something from long ago.

“I shall not bore you with the technical details but this unit has one of the greatest filters you’ll likely ever see. It captures dirt and dust and collects it here in the back.” Eloise taps the back of the unit, the bulkiest part but one that still fit the relatively slim design. “You’ll only need to change it out once every solar year. And I see that you are a woman who is a firm believer in the power of salt circles. If you flip this switch here, you active a special mode unique to this model that will divert and purify any salt you collect and put it here in this little detachable container. This will allow you to clean your whole house and reuse any salt you collect in a new circle.”

“That’s very impressive,” Paula had to admit.

“And if you need to get into those hard to reach nooks and crannies, well we have this extension,” Eloise says as she pulls out a plastic tube that bends and folds while making strange little noises that ends in a foot and a half long silver metal… nozzle for lack of a better word. The extension was strange and didn’t seem to belong to the rest of the vacuum.

“It has a little hole at the tip and it allows you to really get into those corners and clean up any dust mites trying to break in and undo your home’s safety. And it is made with consecrated siderite so in a pinch it will function as a fairly lethal weapon.”

“Surely this cannot work as well as you are selling it.” Paula was suspicious and growing more so by the second. “I’m afraid this isn’t for me.”

“May I do a demonstration? To prove to you my product’s efficacy?”

Paula sighed. There was something about Eloise that she couldn’t just outright refuse. If all else fails she’s going to have a clean carpet. “Fine.”

“When you purchase this model it comes with a manual that tells you how to clean and take care of the unit, but it also gives helpful tips on how to vacuum, and certain patterns for bestowing certain benefits of having a clean room. I’ll do a very basic anti- clockwise pattern for metamorphosis and a feeling of bountiful energy.”

Eloise turned on the vacuum, which wasn’t as loud as Paula thought it would be. She stood in place near the threshold of the room that lead towards the front door and the stairs up to her bedroom. No matter how Eloise turned and moved in strange circular patterns pointing out how things are working and the beauty of a clean and open space, Paula never saw her turn her back. This bright and chipper woman seemed to be exceedingly careful, perhaps more so than Paula gave her credit for. But even knowing that Eloise wouldn’t ever turn her back on her, Paula tried to look for the movements, to catch her turning in a strange way to move around her living room, but she never caught it. She was just always looking at Paula or in a slight profile. It was exceedingly odd.

In the demonstration, Eloise pointed out a few rogue dust devils that Paula had missed in her earlier cleaning. They were strong enough to do anything yet, but if they were clever, in a few days they could start undoing wards overnight and invite something truly nasty inside or become something nasty themselves. Eloise and the vacuum destroyed them with minimal effort or fuss, which is more than Paula could have done.

After collecting some of the salt that was picked up in the demonstration and reapplying it to the circles and wards the demonstration ended.

“It is a very impressive machine you have there,” Paula admitted. “What’s the catch? What payment do you want for it?”

Eloise smiled, wide, bright, and a touch predatory. “I want very little. I like knowing that I can help keep people safe and warm. Just on days that you can see the sun, I’d like you to go outside and stand in its brilliance and say a word of thanks. No more than 10 minutes of quiet contemplation in the sun, on sunny days.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Paula felt the hair on the back of her arms stand up. Her skin felt tingly and warm. The room bristled with energy and she felt more awake and alert. Maybe that’s why she only now noticed that Eloise had the most brilliant yellow-gold eyes. A color not natural to humans.

“You promise that’s it?”

Eloise took one of Paula’s hands in her own tanned, warm, worn hands and held them there for a moment. “I swear it.”

Paula had heard stories of deals made with devils and Saints, genies, and the Wet Things. None of them went well. But those were stories, legends. Weren’t they? This pretty woman behind her was offering a simple tool to help her maintain her small home and stay safe. And she only asked for thanks in the sun on sunny days. This close to the Dust Belt, there were only so many days she could see the sun when it wasn’t covered by swirling dust storms.

“Very well,” Paula said, taking the deal.

“Wonderful!” Eloise beamed at her. “You can take this model right now. Or I can put in an order for you for a different color scheme or an advanced model with more luxury features that I don’t think you’ll need.”

“If you’re willing to part with this one, I can take this one right now.”

“That is agreeable.”

The bargain was struck and the deal made, and Eloise made to leave. She walked backwards telling Paula to study her new owner’s manual, and Paula swore that the sunflower heads followed the mystery salesperson as she walked up the sidewalk and then away into the approaching evening where Paula just suddenly lost sight of her.

[duendeperdida]

28-7-23

do oito ao oitenta.

acho que essa eh a melhor definicao pra esse dia.

hj eu acordei tarde, 8am e uma vontade de nao viver, desde o comeco dessa semana to tentando reduzir com o(s) cigarro(s), e carai ontem eu tava a pessoa mais irritadica do mundo, o role do cachorro doente me pega mt, fui grossa gratuitamente e ate agr n pedi desculpa. enfim acho q to de tpm na vdd mas qdo a paula prado falou q nesse mes vc ia sentir que qdo vc tinha menos coisas tudo era muito mais facil de lidar, agora nao, tive q lidar com uma infiltracao, problema de energia, cachorro doente, uma cliente estressante e parar de pitar... oh captain, what a week! mas voltando pra hoje acordei, tomei um cafe e fui abrir o pc pra trampar, na moral fiquei pelo menos 1:30h na frente do pc sem fazer nada util, vez ou outra mandando uma mensagem, acabei aplicando pra uma vaga de voluntariado no uruguay pq eh isso q eu sempre faco qdo qro desistir de tudo, (in)felizmente nunca deu certo. fiquei sei la qto tempo tentando colocar remedio no cachorro, almocei e vim pra casa. cheguei aqui meio tarde mas fui fazer o q precisava ser feito: trampei pra tydiup, resolvi coisas com das cleaners, apliquei pra um outro trampo, comprei 1 Fii, fiz a arte da tropinha, mandei msg pra mulher do trampo reclamando das taxas de invoice, me exercitei, tomei um banho demorado, passei creme (coisa q acontece 1x na vida e outra na morte), levei o cachorro pra passear, voltei pitei e dormi.

[tamyramoore333]

Movie Review: The Spook Who Sat by the Door

Directed by: Ivan Dixon

Written by: Sam Greenlee and Melvin Clay (adapted from the 1969 novel by Greenlee)

Starring: Lawrence Cook, Paula Kelly, J.A. Preston, Don Blakely

Runtime: 102 minutes

The Spook Who Sat by the Door is a searing, innovative film that is just as pertinent today as it was when it wasreleased in 1973. Directed by Ivan Dixon and based on the incendiary novel by Sam Greenlee, the film is a courageousdenunciation of American racism, government lies, and the illusion of Black involvement in the mainstream. Both a political thriller and a satirical work, the movie was immediately suppressed whenreleased due to its radical message but its effect only grew stronger in the years to come.

The action centers on Dan Freeman (Lawrence Cook), a low-key AfricanAmerican that the agency chooses to hype up as the first African American CIA officer in hopes of diversifying. While the white bureaucrats around him see Freeman as an harmless symbol of progress "the spook who sat by the door" he's secretly absorbing all the tactic, strategy, and intelligence training they have to offer. When he leaves quietly, Freeman comesback to Chicago and begins organizing a covert Black liberation army, using the same skills he learned at the CIA to wage a guerrilla war against institutionalizedracism, police brutality, and economic oppression.

The reason why The Spook Who Sat by the Door is so effective is that it's not afraid to be completely committed to its revolutionary premise. Freeman's not interested in integration or symbolic progress he desires real, structural change, and he's willing to use force to get it. The film doesn't romanticize violence, but does make rebellion a logical and even a necessary response to centuries of oppression. That's a perspective that was and still is very uncomfortable to mostviewers, and one of the reasons why the film was effectively repressed after its initial release.

Lawrence Cook is hypnotic as Freeman, sliding effortlessly between the twopersonas with icy deliberation. Freeman is courteous in public life, pleasantcompany, and non threatening. At home,though, he's charismatic, calculating, and uncompromisingly committed to Black liberation. Cook never overreaches, and understatement only makes the character more chilling and captivating.

At a visual level, the movie is true to its period with its grainy, low budget aesthetic, which is advantageous to the film. Shot in location within Chicago, it isearthy, spontaneous, and urgent. The grainy cinematography, the handholdingof cameras, and the gritty urban landscapes provide a documentary feel that makes the film seem more realistic. The soundtrack, played by Herbie Hancock, pulses with funky revolutionary energy that resonates with the movie's defiant attitude.

Thematically, the movie is deeplyprophetic. It examines the nuances of tokenism, the failure of liberal reform, and the intramural conflict in the Black community between pragmatism and radicalism, between revolution and respectability. Freeman's organization recruits young gang members, veterans, and working-class Black men figures conventionally marginalized or demonizedwithin both white and Black middle class ideology. The film disbelieves that freedom will be realized throughinstitutions but through the people themselves, directly taking action.

All the same, though, The Spook Who Sat by the Door is no naive revolution call. It's a deeply reflective movie, full of irony and satire. Even the title's a joke: "spook" isboth a CIA agent and a racial slur. Freeman's utilizing the state's own machinery against them is dark humorand frighteningly realistic.

Rating: 9.5/10