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broiderie · 1 year

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Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 5

Well... here's 5. Don't steal my shit. You don't want to be me. Promise. I just typed a lot of this up in a hallway closet while tornado sirens were going off.

Warnings: talk of injury, gun talk, happy Hank (he's a warning okay?), gets a little hot and heavy at one point. Oh... and cursing. Always cursing.

Please be easy... I don't write steam very often and I've never published any of it.

The clubhouse in Oakland wasn’t nearly as remote as the one in Santo Padre. It was a compound - but it was right in the center of town.

As they rolled up to the gates - a chain link Megan noted, not steel like at home - a lone man in a prospect kutte rolled them open. Hank parked the car in a spot near the pit where Bishop, Taza, and Coco parked. Both Bishop and Coco unloaded duffle bags since they’d stay there at the clubhouse for the night.

Megan sat in the seat of the car taking deep breaths as Hank turned to her. “Easy, mi amore. It’s just like at home.” He reached for her good hand again and placed gentle kisses on each knuckle. “No different. You are la Princessa, your papa and your padrinos will be with us, and I will be right here the Tentire time.”

Megan nodded. “Right. Arthur and Guinevere.”

Hank smiled. “Arthur and Guinevere, mi princessa. Deep breath and straighten that crown.”

Megan smiled and he leaned over to kiss her deeply before breaking away to get out of the car. He came around to help her out of the passenger side.

“Can you help me?” she asked. “I want to take my sweatshirt off if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Here. Let me help with the sling.”

Together they maneuvered to remove her sweatshirt, leaving her in a deep green shirt with short cream lace sleeves. The v-neck showed off her jewelry in a very strategic way. The ripped light wash jeans and white sneakers were mild compared to what most women in the clubhouse would be wearing.

“Is this okay? I can put the sweatshirt back on if I need to…” Megan asked Hank, tugging at the neckline of her shirt so it didn’t show as much cleavage.

“Princessa - you look beautiful. We can take your jacket if you think you’ll be cold, but I really love you in green.” Hank reached and grabbed her leather riding jacket from the back seat. He kissed her softly again before guiding her to the stairs of the clubhouse where Bishop and the others were greeting El Padrino.

“Ah. There she is!” Marcus opened his arms to offer Megan a hug. “Your Tío and Papa said you had a rough morning. We don’t have to stay if you get tired, Poquito.”

Megan gladly went to get her hug from her godfather. “I’m okay Tío. Hank let me sleep a lot on the drive.”

“Good. Come in. It’s just a few of the guys tonight. I sent one of the prospects for your dinner. It’s just burgers.” He cuddled Megan close, kissing her hair. “I missed you bebita. I haven’t had anyone to teach to dance.”

“Missed you too Tío.” She smiled up at him.

Marcus released her enough to guide them all inside so the men could greet their brothers. Hank stayed close. He knew anyone who wanted to talk to him would come to him.

Marcus herded Megan to a table that was very obviously reserved for El Padrino. His preferred beer was on the table along with an ashtray with a cigarillo already smoldering in it. “Prospect!” he yelled. “Bring mi ahijada that food.” He smiled as he guided Megan into a chair. “Would you like coke or water, Poquito?” he asked.

“Coke please, Tío.”

“And a coke!” he bellowed to add.

Megan giggled as Hank joined her at the table.

The prospect hurried over with a giant burger and fries on a tray and a glass bottle of coke in hand. “Dinner for the princessa,” he said with a flirty smile.

“You better tuck that shit in Prospect. She has a caballero and he won’t hesitate to take you to the ring.” Marcus said, smiling evilly. “And I’ll let him.” He picked up his cigarillo and puffed as he sat back in his chair.

Hank slid a heavily tattooed arm along the back of Megan’s chair pointedly.

The prospect straightened up. “Yes sir.” He turned to Hank. “What can I get you?”

“Dinner and another coke.” Hank told him gruffly. “And my President and VP will be here in a second for theirs.”

“Any idea what they’ll want to drink? I can have it waiting for them,” the kid offered.

Megan smiled gently at him. “Probably two beers, Prospect. Tío might want something stronger, but I doubt Papa will.”

The prospect nodded. “Assuming the other burger is for the member who rode in with you. I’ll keep it in the oven until he’s ready for it.”

“Thank you,” Megan said politely.

Marcus snorted as the kid walked away. “You’re going to spoil him, Poquito. He’s a prospect - make him earn it.”

Hank chuckled as he pulled Megan’s chair closer to his. “She’s the same way with EZ. Unless she’s bossing him in the bar that is.” He kissed her hair. “Need some help, Princessa?” he asked as Megan gauged the size of her burger carefully.

“I might need a knife…” she giggled and looked at El Padrino. “This burger is huge.”

Marcus sat back smoking with a grin. “I may have gone a bit overboard when your Papa mentioned getting dinner when you got here.”

The prospect returned with Hank’s order and the things they’d gotten for Taza and Bishop.

“Get one of those steak knives from the kitchen and bring it too, Prospect,” Marcus ordered.

Megan munched on fries as she glanced around. Taza and Bishop were headed their way, but Coco was already involved in a poker game across the room.

Over dinner, Bishop and Taza caught up with Marcus about plans for Megan’s party that was coming up once she was healed. Hank cut Megan’s burger into fourths so she could pick pieces up one handed. She only got through half of the meal before declaring herself stuffed.

“So, Poquito, I know you don’t want a big deal made here about your birthday, but I do have a few things for you.” Marcus said once she was done eating. He smiled at her where she was leaned up against Hank’s side as he finished eating one handed so she could cuddle close. “I don’t have them all here though.”

Megan sighed, but smiled a little. “That’s more than okay, Padrino. You didn’t need to get me anything at all.”

All the men around her snorted.

“All the same -” Marcus said. “Marco,” he called. When the man who had been his pacificador came over, he indicated a stained glass door similar to the Templo door at Santo Padre. “Marco, will you get the case I brought in today from the safe for me?”

“Si, Padrino.” Marco said with a wink in Megan’s direction. “Be right back.”

Megan perked up a little. “What kind of case?”

“A gun case.”

Megan perked up a little more. “Gun case?”

Hank chuckled. “Oh, so that’s what it takes to get you interested in a gift.”

Taza snorted. “The girl likes her guns. Remember the shooting range… I still think we need to get her shooting against Coco one day soon.”

Bishop grinned. “Poquito is a good shot and knows how to handle her fire power.”

Marcus just smiled and puffed his cigarillo.

Marco returned with a hard gun case and set it in front of Megan at Marcus’ wave. “I checked it over myself,” he assured Hank.

“Open it, sweetheart,” Marcus said, blowing smoke away from the table. “I know you have the one from the armory, but…”

Megan popped the catches holding the case closed open one at a time and opened the case. Inside was a 9 mm pistol with mother of pearl handle grips. It had been polished to a high shine and smelled of fresh gun oil. She traced the silver crown inlaid on the grips gently. “ Tío… it’s beautiful. It must have cost a fortune.”

“It’s the perfect gift for a princessa with your skills, Poquito.” Marcus smiled, satisfied. “I knew it was perfect when I saw it last week.”

The members nearby had gotten quiet when Marcus had sent Marco for the case. Coco noticed and came to peek. “How’s it shoot?” he asked.

Marco answered him. “Like a dream. It’s got a smooth action. A little small for my preference, but El Padrino said la princessa preferred a single stack.”

Coco whistled, impressed. He had a healthy respect for Marco’s opinion on weapons. It was something that they shared.

Megan smiled brightly at Marcus. “It’s beautiful, Tío. Thank you.” She stood and gave him a one armed hug.

Hank smiled as well. He knew Megan preferred to be armed. He’d tested her proficiency himself. It really was the perfect gift. “Mind if I take a closer look, mi princessa?”

“Of course I don’t mind, Hank.” Megan giggled.

The gun was examined by Hank before being passed to Bishop and Taza with Megan’s permission. After everyone got a chance to look it over, Marco offered to put it back in the safe for the night since Megan couldn’t really carry it at the moment. She could shoot left-handed, but it wasn’t her preferred draw and there wasn’t a reason to carry when she never left Hank’s side.

The group broke up as Coco got Bishop to come be his second in a pool game. Taza wandered off to talk to old friends after glancing to be sure Megan was content with Hank, as did Marcus.

Hank guided Megan to a set of couches in a quieter portion of the bar to relax for a few minutes as it got later. He’d had a few conversations and some drinks with some of the guys he knew from the Oakland charter, but he could tell Megan was getting tired. He settled down and let her cuddle into his side. “You okay, mi Princessa?”

Megan nodded. “I’m okay. Sore. I think I just need to rest a few minutes.” She fiddled with the zipper pull of his kutte. “Sorry you’re stuck with me and not able to mingle properly.”

“Hey.” Hank tugged her onto his lap facing him firmly but gently. “I’m not ‘stuck’ anywhere, Princessa.”

Megan kept her eyes on where her good hand was still playing with his zipper. “I only mean that I know it’s not normal for you guys to bring your girls along on runs. Papa explained the Run Rules the day after he met me.”

Hank frowned. “Run Rules? What Run Rules?”

“What happens on a run, stays on a run.” Megan said quietly as she shifted a little like she was going to get up. “I don’t want you to feel like me being here is your burden…”

Hank tugged her close to straddle his lap and used the other hand to lift her chin until she met his eyes. “Look at me.” He said firmly. When she finally met his gaze he saw tears on her lash line. “Megan, there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than right here. With you.” He gently wiped her eyes with his thumbs. “I don’t care where we are, or who we’re with. There is no ‘Run Rule’ with us. Do you hear me?”

Megan nodded a little. “But…”

“No. No but. You are MY princessa. I don’t give a flying fuck about anyone else but you and my brothers and Mama.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “No one else, understand?”

Megan nodded again and he kissed her gently. He pressed more kisses to her face and lips and pulled her against his chest to tuck her under his chin. “I never want you to feel like you’re holding me back, baby.”

Megan rested against him and let her heartbeat slow as she settled down. “You’ll tell me if it changes?” she asked quietly, tracing the round patch that tributed his brothers.

Hank nodded. “But it won’t.” He waited for her to calm down before he nudged her gently into a position where he could kiss her.

Megan kissed him back, jumping a little when he deepened the kiss. She shifted her weight until she sat more on her knees and had the height advantage to kiss him properly.

Across the room, Taza chuckled. He and Bishop were leaned against a wall watching the charters mingle. Other charters would join them tomorrow to prepare for the big meeting with SAMCRO. Taza had been looking to check on Megan when he saw Hank pull her into his lap. It looked like a serious conversation, so he’d kept an eye on them - until it suddenly became a make out session.

Bishop nudged him with a smile. “That looks like it’s going well.”

Taza laughed. “Yeah. I walked in on it this morning too. Embarrassed the hell out of Megan.”

“She doesn’t look too embarrassed now, brother.” BIshop chuckled. “I’m glad he’s doing it right though. Best way he’s got right now to make it clear she’s off the menu.”

Taza nodded. “I honestly think he’d mark her tonight if his mama wouldn’t murder him.”

“Really? He’s that sure of her?” Bishop asked, sipping on a beer.

Taza sipped his own. “Yeah. He’s that sure. Doesn’t let me do shit for her at home. I offered to sit with her one night so he could sleep and he refused outright.”

“Hmmm. What about her?” Bish asked.

“Oh she’s completely in love. She doesn’t know quite how to handle that though. Keeps trying to do things like she used to for Jimmy.”

Bishop winced and glanced sharply at the man under his god daughter. “Hank shutting that shit down?”

Taza chuckled. “Hard, but he’s careful about it. Doesn��t make her feel stupid. Apparently she even had a freak out last night because she couldn’t cook for Mama Loza. Hank told me after he put her to bed.”

Bishop sighed and shook his head. “Those bastards really did a number on her head, huh?”

Taza nodded again solemnly. “But that -” he indicated where Megan and Hank were. Hank was shifting her closer to his body and kissing her at the same time. “That will do more good that any head shrink.”

“Truth, hermano.” They clinked bottles and then turned back to the pool game Coco was playing.

Meanwhile, Hank shifted to press kisses to Megan’s jaw and neck and let her catch her breath. He nuzzled the small patch of skin behind her ear with a chuckle. “Told you we’d find time, didn’t I?” he whispered.

Megan giggled and pressed a kiss to each of his cheekbones. “You’re still a tease. Got me all riled up…”

He smiled against her skin and rubbed his hands up and down her jean clad thighs before gripping her hips to hold her close. “Told you - only a tease if you don’t plan to follow through.” He bit ever so gently on the side of her neck.

Megan gasped softly and tilted her head back to give him more access to her neck as her hips pressed tight to Hank’s.

“Mmm. Mi Princessa likes that.” His hands slid around to rest on her back pockets as he took advantage of the skin exposed by her v-neck shirt. He pressed kissed to her collar bones and the tops of her breasts. Then he gentled his touch with a groan. “Easy, baby. Easy.” He drew her back into a kiss with his hand cupping her neck. “We’ve got to slow down.”

Megan whined and slid her good hand up to cup his neck. “Don’t want to…”

Hank chuckled and nudged her jaw with his nose before kissing her again. “I know mi Princessa. Me neither.” His other hand slid under the edge of her t-shirt to stroke the skin at her waist. “But we are on the couch in another charter’s clubhouse with your papa and both of your godfathers in eyesight. I’d like to keep my dick attached until I can show you how I can use it, Princessa.”

That made Megan snort with laughter and bury her face in the side of his neck. She struggled to muffle her giggles.

Hank chuckled as well and wrapped both arms around her soothingly. He pressed kisses to her hair and rocked gently back and forth as he smiled. “You know I want you, right mi princessa?”

Megan nodded as she calmed.

“Good. I promise, I won’t start something that I can’t finish - eventually,” he whispered.

Megan relaxed into him with a sigh. “I know.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I trust you, Hank.”

Eventually, people started to settle down. Marco had been sitting with Megan and Hank for about an hour when the elders came to join them.

“How you doing, Chica?” Taza asked as Megan yawned widely.

Megan shook her head. “I’m fine, Papa. Hank just gave me another dose of my medicine.”

“I wasn’t asking for your pain level, sweet girl. Are you exhausted yet?”

She shook her head stubbornly. “I’m okay.”

Bishop chuckled. “Sure you are. Give it a few minutes, Marco, and she’ll be sound asleep.” He sipped his whiskey. “Only girl I know who sleeps soundly in the middle of a biker bar.”

Marcus grinned. “She’s safest there, right Poquito?”

Megan smiled. “Can’t be safer than in the middle of all my favorite people.”

Marco saluted her with his own bottle. “True enough.”

She snuggled down close to Hank’s side and listened as the men discussed the weird places they’d found each other sleeping throughout all the years they’d known each other. All in all, she decided that her sleeping on Hank or Taza at the clubhouse was very tame in comparison.

A few minutes later, Marco chuckled and pointed a finger at a sleeping Megan. She’d been leaned up against Hank’s side with his arm tucked safely around her as he stroked her skin while they talked. “And… she’s out. Does that a lot, huh?”

Hank smiled and shifted to let her pillow her head on his though while Taza pulled her feet into his lap. “Enough. She has nightmares a lot. PTSD shit. Keeps her up for hours after one sometimes even with me there.” He stroked her hair gently. Bishop started looking for her jacket to cover her with. “So when she gets quiet and still - she falls asleep for a bit.”

Marco nodded. “I did the same after my stint as a P.O.W. Makes sense from what you’ve told me about her situation.” He sipped his beer. “At least she’s safe now. Both those bastards are dead.”

Marcus smiled. “She’s getting better though. Even just in the week I’ve been here - I can see the difference. She doesn’t flinch at loud voices now.”

Bishop came back with her leather riding jacket and draped it over her. “You can thank Angel’s loud ass for that. He about gave her a heart attack a few days ago at the ranch, but he fixed it.”

Taza chuckled. “And earned himself more yard time at the same time.”

Marcus chuckled. “At least you didn’t have to take him to the cage again. Is he just about healed up from that?”

Bishop grinned. “Yeah. All the superficial shit is healed. Ribs are still sore though, I imagine.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll make the lesson stick.” Marcus looked at Marco. “You spread the word about Poquito to our guys,right? They all know the markers and that she’s off limits?”

Marco nodded. “Si Padrino. And I let them know who they’d be in the cage with if they fucked up. Oakland will guard la princessa well.”

“Good.” Marcus let his eyes rest on the sleeping Megan for a moment before he looked at Hank. “Tranq - hermano - I know she fights you on it, but she needs spoiling.”

Hank chuckled and tucked a strand of hair back into her braid. “I know. We just haven’t left the ranch in days because of her pain levels. Did Taza tell you she was refusing pain medication?”

Marco hissed. “With a broken wrist AND collarbone?”

Taza nodded. “And cracked ribs and head trauma as well.”

Marco cursed quietly in Spanish. “No wonder she didn’t fucking sleep.”

Bishop sighed. “Yeah. And we - “ he indicated his club flash, “didn’t check in enough to know she needed different meds or Taza and Hank would have had her in better shape by now. She’s only been on pain medication for about 24 hours.” He sipped more whiskey.

Hank snorted. “And Taza and I were too tired to think to ask for help. She’s much easier now. We just had to find something she’d take.”

Marco frowned. “What do you mean ‘something she’d take’?”

Taza explained, as he patted her legs. “Megan doesn’t even drink. Not even a beer. She hates not being in complete control of herself. Anything that makes her ‘floaty’ is a no go with her. Even the pain meds when she’s got broken bones.”

Bishop nodded. “So when we found out she wasn’t taking her meds, I talked to Creeper to see what she might take and got it from our street contacts.”

Hank smoothed a hand down her side as she shifted with a whimper. She quieted at his touch. “Now we just get to ride herd on her to make her rest while still keeping her pain levels down.” He chuckled and looked at Marco. “Man, she’s a fucking FORCE when she gets going. You caught a glimpse of it with that asshole that night, but that’s not the half of it. She did that cold. No training.” He smiled down at her softly with pride. “She’s learning to box now. And she can already shoot any fucking thing with a trigger - and shoot it accuratly.”

Marco chuckled. “A true badass chick. Just what you need brother.”

Hank grinned, but never took his eyes off Megan. “Just what I need.”

Bishop sat back in his seat and looked at Hank thoughtfully. “When will you mark her?”

Hank looked startled. “Mark her? We said at the table that was for wives.”

Bishop looked at Taza with a grin. “No. We said that was for Ol’ Ladies - no one said a fucking thing about wifing someone being a requirement.”

Taza chuckled. “He has a point. We said the tattoos were for wives - doesn’t mean you can’t mark her with jewelry, hermano.”

Marcus laughed. “That’s true - and don’t tell me you don’t have her tattoo planned, hermano.”

Hank brushed careful fingers along her hairline at the back of her neck. “A few actually.” He thought it over before looking at Taza. “What do you think, Taza? I won’t do it if you say no. You’re her Papa.”

Taza smiled. “I may be her Papa, Hank, but you’re her caballero. Her knight in black leather. The Arthur to her Guinevere. We’re headed into a meeting with Samcro - you claiming her will mean a lot more than any claim the rest of us have on her. Only the ones who respect us,” he indicated himself, as well as Marcus and Bishop, “will respect her as Princessa. As your reina though -”

Marcus smirked. “Tomorrow, la princessa becomes tu reina. I have just the jeweler too. We’ll go see him tomorrow while Taza and Bishop distract Megan with birthday shopping. I need to pick up one of her gifts from there anyway.”

Hank smiled a little and looked down at Megan sleeping in his lap.

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@xeniarocks

@iamthegraham

@lyly00

#lost princessa #lost princessa sequel #meet the reaper #taza x daughter!oc #hank loza x oc!megan #che taza romero #hank loza #megan(oc) x hank #bishop losa #marcus alvarez #coco cruz #please be gentle #I'm trying to stretch my writing

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years

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Queens Of The Mayans, Brooke, Chapter 7

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: violence/aggression, fingering, unprotected sex, smut.

Brooke’s POV

"Bishop stop," I pled, trying to hold onto his arm as Tranq ripped Angel's kutte from him and they started prepping him for the cage, "What are you doing?"

"You want to act like a god damn whore," he growled, ripping his arm from my hands, "fine. But you don't fucking pull down my guys while you're doing it. He's a fucking prospect. He's not allowed to touch you!"

"Bishop wa-"

But he turned to me, and my pleas were obviously falling on deaf ears. His normally dark brown eyes were almost black, full of rage and contempt for the young biker.

"You don't fucking get to tell me what to do, do you understand?"

When I didn't respond immediately his hand snatched my jaw and held me so that I was firmly looking at him in the eye. He was waiting for a response.

"I-I understand."

"Good," he growled, dropping my jaw and turning around. He pulled off his own kutte and started unbuttoning his shirt, "PROSPECT. Do you know why you're in the cage?"

Angel swallowed, looking to me, "I-"

"Don't fucking look at her," he yelled over the music that was blasting from inside, "don't fucking look at her for permission on anything. I asked you a question. Now fucking answer, it!"

As Tranq handed him tape to wrap his hands, he looked at him then shook his head. He shrugged and handed the tape to Bishop. Bishop stared at him, waiting for an answer, "I'm fucking Brooke."

"No," he growled, barely bothering to look at him as he finished wrapping the tape around his fingers, "I don't care if you fuck a whore...but when you fuck my property...and as a prospect...we have a problem."

Brooke swallowed as she looked at the two older men. Tranq led Angel over to the cage, and pushed him in, then Bishop walked in behind. As Tranq put the padlock over the door, Taza held me back as I went to rush it.

"You can't let him do this," I begged Taza, "please. He'll kill him."

"He won't kill the prospect," he murmured. Then he looked down at me, "but is that what you're really worried about? The prospect?"

"He didn't want me," I snipped, my jaw clenching as I tried to avoid grinding my teeth, "Bishop doesn't want me."

"Yes he does," he said, looking to the two men in the cage. My gaze snapped to it, and while I had to admit Angel put up a valiant effort, Bishop was a seasoned fighter, his time in the military only making him more lethal, "he'll teach the kid a lesson. One that he should have accepted from the beginning that day at the mall. You don't touch Bishop's things."

"I'm not a thing," I growled, pushing myself away from him, "Angel cared about me...he helped me. He let me in when all any of you ever did was push me away...and for what? BECAUSE BISHOP WON'T MAKE A MOVE? BECAUSE HE DOESN'T HAVE THE BALLS TO JUST TAKE ME FOR HIMSELF?"

Bishop's eyes snapped to mine.

It was nothing less than an animalistic rage as he yelled for Tranq to unlock the cage. My eyes went to Angel, beaten and bloody on the dirt. Bishop smirked at me. With a huff, the door was unlocked, and he stormed towards me.

No one stopped him.

No one bothered putting a hand up or looked at him funny when he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder.

No one batted an eye as the shirtless, bloodied up man carried me through the clubhouse and to his room as though I were nothing more than a sack of flour.

When we passed the threshold to his room, he kicked the door shut and threw me on the bed, not bothering to hold back or hide his contempt for me. He was breathing heavily as he paced the floor of his room.

"The fuck was that?" he growled out, after a second. I didn't say anything as I watched him try to pace his anger out of himself. His hands were still drawn into tight fists, "I ASKED A QUESTION!"

"Calling you out on your shit," I replied, feeling confident enough to look him dead in the eye, "if you're gonna call me out on my shit, I'm going to call you out on yours, Obispo."

He gave me a nasty smirk, "you think that's what this is? Some childish bullshit where we go back and forth calling each other out?"

"I think that's what you made it."

"I care about you," he seethed, finally unfurling his fists. He rushed the bed and slammed both hands down on the edge of it, "I fucking care about you. I knew that you were so god damned innocent, and I wanted you to have time to experience it all. I didn't want to rush anything, but all you want is to whine and bitch and complain about how hard it is. How difficult your life is here? How much I ignore you."

"You do."

"I am working all the time to make sure the club is at it's best," he hissed, "I'm doing this so I can create a future for us. And you're fucking anyone who will look at you. Riz. Angel. Who next, Gilly?"

"We've already established he's not my type," I smirked snarkily, "but thanks for the faith."

His jaw clenched as he stared at me, and he raised his chin up, an act of trying to stare me down and intimidate me at the same time, "is everything a fucking joke to you?"

"It is when I laugh."

"GOD DAMN IT, BROOKE! I'M FUCKING BEING SERIOUS!"

"You want serious?" I asked, "how about this for serious? I don't know how. I don't know why, but for some god forsaken reason I ended up here. With you. And all I've wanted since day one was to feel your arms around me. Feel your lips against mine. Have you wrapped around me like a god damn cocoon, protecting me from the world. I've never wanted that from anyone, and that is scary as fuck to me. So, when I try, actually fucking try to get your attention and you blow me off. When you ignore my advances. When you straight out reject me...and then hit me...I guess I just decided it best to try and drown my sorrows on another cock."

Bishop looked down at his hands and he nervously began to fiddle with his fingers, "I didn't mean for it to be like this you know."

I barely heard his admission as I stared at him, "I don't think anyone can plan for this."

"I care about you too..." he said softly, "you know that right?"

"I think it was kind of obvious that there's something there," I sighed, trying to remain light about the situation, "don't know of too many guys that would beat Angel up over nothing."

"Clearly you two haven't talked much outside of the sex," he said with a chuckle, "there are plenty of guys that would beat the shit out of the pretty boy who can't keep it in his pants."

"So you really want me?"

I stared up at him as if he were the biggest dumbass in the world, "are you fucking kidding right now, Obispo?"

He shook his head, "I'm being serious."

"Of course I want you," I admitted, "more than anything in the world."

"You're done fucking Angel," he growled down at me. He took three large steps, and he stood in front of me, "and Riz. And whoever else you fucked too."

"I was only sleeping with Angel."

"That's fucking over!"

"Why?" I asked. My eyes flickered to his, and I saw the briefest bit of anger as I'd asked that question, "I'm not yours, am I?"

He didn't answer me.

He only stared holes through me.

"I said you're done."

"Then make me yours, Obispo..." I said breathlessly as I stared at him. His jaw clenched, but he didn't make any moves, "you want me...make me yours. Ruin me for other men."

"You don't know what you're asking sweetheart," he replied in a hushed tone. The rough pads of his fingers brushed my cheek and ran along my jaw, "if I do this, there's no going back, princessa."

"You think I don't know that?"

"I'm not looking to fuck around, Brooke," he answered, "you're 18. If we do this, you're stuck with me until we're done."

"Here you go," I muttered softly. I leaned forward until I was resting on my knees, my legs tucked under me. I sat up and put my arms around his neck, "if I have to tell you one more time that I car-"

"You'll what?" he laughed, "what'll saying it one more time do?"

There was an edge to his voice. Something more than the banter we'd acquired before our argument. A lustful air to the teasing. I smiled, and he copied my actions.

"I guess I'll have to keep saying it a million more times," I sighed. He chuckled as I pulled him closer, "just...kiss me already, would you?"

I smiled to myself as I laid in bed with him, my fingers dancing along the skin on his chest

"You should be asleep, princessa."

"So should you, Obispo."

"I'm enjoying the moments with my queen."

"And I'm enjoying the moments with my king."

I looked up, and his calm chocolate eyes were staring down at me. He gave me a small smile and leaned down. I leaned up to meet his lips. Slowly, he pulled me up to him as our lips worked in tandem. When he was happy with where I was so that neither one of us were craning our necks, he flipped us over so that he was hovering over me.

As he began to kiss down my jaw and neck I couldn't help but giggle as his mustache and the scruff from his cheek and neck tickled me.

"Bishop."

"That's right mami," he purred, his lips continuing to work down my naked form, "you moan my name..."

I was about to speak when his mouth found it's way to my breasts. I gasped as he latched on, his tongue working over one of my nipples. His hand reached up and grasped for my other breast, slowly kneading it under his fingers, manipulating the other nipple the same way he had been with his tongue.

My back arched against him, and he chuckled, pulling away from my breast with a 'pop'. He repeated his actions on the other side, until he was satisfied, and then he began moving his way down my body once more.

"Obispo," I begged breathlessly as he delicately kissed each of my inner thighs, "please. I-I need to feel you again."

"Princessa," he purred, "we have all the time in the world. I want to taste that beautiful pussy of yours again. Feel you cumming on my tongue as you scream my name. Let the whole damn clubhouse know who you belong to, once and for all."

And as his face disappeared between my legs, I gasped once more. His tongue had expertly found my folds in the dark, and he was already sliding two fingers in.

"Bishop," I whimpered, as he began scissoring his fingers into me. I grabbed onto his hair, gently pulling it. He growled against my core, sending shivers down my spine, "fuck. Bishop."

"Oh sweetheart," he purred, "so responsive to me."

He pulled out his fingers and put them in his mouth to clean them off. I felt a wave run through me as I watched him with hooded eyes.

"Need you."

"So needy for me, princessa," he smirked. He came up to me again, kissing his way up my body. I could see the wetness on his mustache from my own juices, "you know how sweet you taste?"

I shook my head. He slotted his lips against mine, and our tongues met as they fought for dominance. I could taste something slightly tangy, but very sweet on his tongue as our lips stayed melded together. I moaned as I felt the tip of his cock bump against my entrance.

"Bishop," I pled when he pulled away momentarily as he lined himself up, "please."

"Please, what, princessa?"

"Make love to me," I begged, looking deep into his eyes, "please...make love to me Obispo. Please."

"About time."

I turned to Yana, who had a knowing smirk on her face as she poured herself some coffee.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to hide the smile on my face.

"Sweetie, everyone heard you and Bishop," she giggled, pouring in her creamer, "and believe it or not you two woke me and Che up this morning."

My cheeks heated up as Bishop came around the corner. His hand went to the small of my back and he gave my ass a quick squeeze as he pulled me into a kiss.

"So much for subtlety," Yana laughed, nudging me, "congratulations on finally getting your girl, Obispo."

#queens of the mayans #queen of the mayans #motorcycle clubs #motorcycle #mc #santo padre #mayans #mayans fx #mayans mc #bishop losa smut #bishop losa #obispo losa

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rose-reyes · 2 years

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Here’s my two cents on season 4:

-I’m losing respect for EZ. I knew he was going to drastically change but it’s to the point where he’s unlikeable. He shouldn’t be VP right now. Marcus only made him one to piss Bishop off. This thing with him and Sofia is boring. She’s nothing but an excuse for EZ to have mindless sex with.

-Emily has suffered enough already. Why are they bringing back the Marlon thing when it’s just going to get both her and EZ into more deeper shit than they already are in? She should have given Erin custody of her son and fled to fucking Europe.

-I really want to believe in Miguel’s redemption, but we all know it won’t last long. His own aunt don’t even trust him.

-I don’t recognize Adelita anymore. She’s just not ready to be a mother. Even though Amanda lied the baby was better off with her and the husband.

-Taza just sitting in the back seat letting everything he has caused unfold without one hint of remorse. I hate Bishop right now but I hope he exposes Taza at some point.

-Hank going from a sweetheart to a snake shatters me, and just because Nails didn’t have the same feelings for him he turned into another toxic male who wants nothing to do with her.

-Gilly and Creeper’s subplots are way overdue and don’t contribute much to the main storyline.

-My heart breaks seeing Felipe floating around waiting for his sons to acknowledge him and having to close his shop. They’re wasting a legendary actor.

-El Banquero and that psycho chick are BORING.

-I’m so fucking tired of seeing children and animals in this show either dead or endangered, and the fact that Disney is allowing this makes me SICK AF.

-If Jax was alive, he would have absolutely RIP these new SOA shitheads (and Chibs, who gave them permission) apart for what they’re doing.

-Poor Coco...they got rid of him just like that...with any reconciliation with his daughter or giving him a chance to show his leadership role in Oakland.

-Angel...is...a...piece of SHIT. That’s all I have to say about him now.

God only knows what is going to happen in the rest of this dreadful season.

#mayans fx #mayans mc #fx

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valentinasofia · 1 year

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PARCIAL N°2 (ESCRITO)

LINK A GOOGLE DOCS: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CUN_3_SWvocBTtGIzBSGlwJNJ66hFvW8GA_CmBS50Eo/edit?usp=sharing

ESCRITO:

FACULTAD DE ARTES

UNIVERSIDAD NACIONAL DE LA PLATA

Proyecto de Trabajo de Graduación de la

Licenciatura en Artes Audiovisuales con orientación en Realización

VAL LOVES SHARKS

El cine satírico y bizarro como forma de activismo.

2022

SÍNTESIS DE PROPUESTA: Este escrito propone a la sátira y el humor como formas de narrar cinematográficamente de forma vanguardista y crítica de las representaciones en la historia del cine, analizando casos de obras y artistas específicos.

PALABRAS CLAVE: ACTIVISMO, SÁTIRA, VIOLENCIA, AMBIENTALISMO, TIBURONES.

VALENTINA QUESADA

DNI 42095418

Leg. 79973/4

Tel: 221 508-1662

Email: [email protected]

El cine es una de las formas de arte más consumidas en la actualidad, tanto por gente en el ambiente artístico como por otras burbujas sociales. Esto conlleva una gran carga, que es su poder sobre la gente y su forma de ver el mundo, dado que se presenta como una representación del mismo desde el punto de vista de una persona en particular, que es el director. ¿Qué pasa, entonces, cuando esa forma de ver el mundo está errada, o por lo menos está –objetivamente– dañando a algo/alguien? Ahí es cuando empieza el cuestionamiento sobre la influencia del cine y sobre cómo gran parte de las cosas que se consideran naturales (ya que son ideales impuestos por la sociedad) son en realidad alimentadas a unx sin su total consentimiento ni conocimiento y, una vez cuestionadas, pierden su naturalidad y sentido.

A lo largo de la historia del cine fueron muchas las películas que pusieron a los tiburones como villanos, que los despojaron de todas las características menos la de ser monstruos, animales sin ninguna función más que la de ser cazadores, salvajes y asesinos de, específicamente, humanxs (y, gracias a Spielberg, hasta un par de mascotas). Empezó con Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975) y se mantuvo vivo con sus secuelas y rip-offs, desde Deep Blue Sea (Renny Harlin, 1999) hasta The Meg (Jon Turteltaub, 2018). Películas que crearon un estigma detrás de este animal y lo convirtieron en un objeto de horror y misterio para gran parte de la sociedad1. El mismo Peter Benchley, escritor de la película que originó el mito, dedicó su vida (con las ganancias de la misma y a través de la defensa y activismo por los tiburones) a remediar lo que su propia creación había logrado2.

Es inocente decir que es gracias a Jaws que extinguimos al 90% de la población de tiburones – sería absurdo creer eso. Si hay que apuntar dedos, son principalmente la industria pesquera y de belleza las que están en la mira. Se llegan a cobrar más de 100 dólares por una taza de sopa de tiburón (que según Gordon Ramsay, cocinero y activista, en Gordon Ramsay: Shark Bait (Helen Simpson, 2014): "en realidad, no sabe a nada. Casi como simples fideos de cristal"). Hacen creer que la manera más efectiva de mantenerse jóvenes y bellxs es poniéndose cremas en la cara que contienen aceites provenientes de hígados de tiburones3. Son ellxs, después de todo, quienes venden carne de tiburón en supermercados camuflada bajo otros nombres, quienes ocultan de dónde provienen los ingredientes de origen animal, quienes pescan ilegalmente y sin seguir las reglamentaciones de cada país. Los números son, en sí mismos, más terroríficos que cualquier película. 5 personas (y un perro) mueren a lo largo de las 2 horas y 4 minutos de Jaws; en ese tiempo, entre 22 y 60 mil tiburones mueren a manos de pescadorxs cada día4.

Ahora bien, parte de que socialmente se hayan aceptado estas prácticas y se haga un ojo ciego al asunto pareciera nacer de la forma en que los medios representan a los tiburones y hacen gran parte de la causa por la que la sociedad teme a estos peces cartilaginosos. David Ropeik, instructor de comunicación de riesgo en la Universidad de Harvard y autor de "How Risky Is It, Really? Why Our Fears Don't Always Match the Facts" (McGraw-Hill Education, 2010), dice que se debe al "cerebro perezoso”5: “atajos” mentales que nos permiten juzgar situaciones rápidamente y sin tener toda la información: si todo lo que sabemos acerca de los tiburones proviene de la forma en que los medios los retratan –de mirar "Shark Week" y leer noticias sobre sanguinarios ataques en las costas playeras a lo largo del mundo– el cerebro conecta a estos animales con violencia y asesinato, disponiendo a temerles, cuando todo apunta a que el verdadero enemigo del ser humano es él mismo.

¿Será hora de representar en el cine a este depredador desalmado, y dejar de pasar la culpa a otras vidas (y objetos inanimados) de este planeta (y fuera de él)? Después de todo, desde que existe el miedo a que los seres humanos hayamos llegado lo suficientemente lejos como para verdaderamente lastimar al planeta, existe la posibilidad de explotar ese miedo en forma de arte, y más específicamente a través de la sátira y el humor como formas de activismo. Numerosos cineastas se ganan la vida con esa fórmula: Boon Joon-ho (Okja, 2017; Snowpiercer, 2013; The Host, 2006), Brian Yuzna (Society, 1989), Terry Gilliam (Brazil, 1985), Karyn Kusama (Jennifer's Body, 2009), John De Bello (Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!, 1978)... la lista es interminable. Algunas de las películas previamente mencionadas se toman más en serio que otras, otras tienen más o menos presupuesto, algunas terminan en orgías bodyhorrorescas y otras se convirtieron en películas de culto feministas una década después de estrenarse porque la sociedad no estaba lista para ellas cuando se publicaron.

Específicamente está el caso de Treevenge, un cortometraje canadiense de 2008 dirigido por Jason Eisener. Está disponible en su idioma original en la página de Vimeo de la compañía de contenido integrado, XYZ Films6. Como bien dice el título, se trata de árboles (específicamente pinos, de los navideños) que se vengan -“t(re)e-venge” (venganza en inglés)- por los años de ser mutilados y decorados llegada la Navidad. Entre las escenas más bizarras puede encontrarse una en la que el dueño del negocio que vende los pinos está preparando a uno con lubricante y otra en la que un árbol de Navidad hace explotar la cabeza de un bebé. Desde su base, la película busca no tomarse en serio y espera que el público haga lo mismo. Árboles que hablan, gritan y desesperan y, una vez decorados y ubicados en sus respectivos hogares, se revolucionan y empiezan a matar a las familias que los compraron. Este cortometraje, al igual que muchas otras obras ya mencionadas y otras tantas que no, confirma que el hecho de que algo sea cómico no significa que valga menos. Gracioso, satírico, ridículo, desagradable. ¿Puede una película que valga la pena de ver ser catalogada bajo alguno de esos adjetivos? Después de todo, se acostumbra a tener una idea de lo que es el “buen cine”: lo nefasto no puede decir algo importante, no puede ser arte, porque el arte es bello. Después viene Treevenge, una obra que no se disculpa por ser kitsch y banal y, sin embargo, dice algo más que importante: mutilamos a miles de árboles por año para usarlos como decoración por dos días de celebración y después tirarlos a la basura.

Algo tan normalizado como la Navidad es sacado del espacio que ocupa en la sociedad y llevado a otro completamente distinto, en el que podemos verlo con otros ojos, unos críticos y activistas. Una cosa es mirar las clásicas películas navideñas con las que se crece, en las que todo es felicidad y familia, y otra es mirar una película que propone que la Navidad es una forma de genocidio. Nadie va a cambiar su idea sobre la Navidad por un mediometraje canadiense, pero quienes lo miren pueden plantearse la forma de mirar las cosas a partir de entonces. Lo que sí es evidente es que cuando no se trata de una película sino de una generación de las mismas que ponen el foco en un mismo punto de vista, la sociedad sí puede tender a empezar a creerse esa idea. Tanto que la Navidad es un evento familiar y feliz rodeado de nieve y comida, como que los tiburones son seres desalmados que sólo buscan asesinar.

Otro director que se encargó durante toda su carrera a desestigmatizar la idea de bizarro = negativo es John Waters. Desde su primera obra trajo a escena una forma de cine que hace foco en lo absurdo, el humor negro y el mal gusto. No queda más que leer la sinopsis de su opera prima, Hag in a Black Leather Jacket (1964): “The lurid wedding of a black man and white girl, with a Ku Klux Klansman performing the wedding ceremony. John Waters’ first film, made on 8mm, given one showing (making back its budget of thirty dollars) before being retired to his closet.” (El lúrido casamiento de un hombre negro y una mujer blnaca, con un Ku Klux Klansman oficiando la ceremonia. La primera película de John Waters, filmada en 8mm, siendo proyectada una vez (recuperando el presupuesto de 30 dólares) antes de ser retirada a su clóset)7. Y tan criticadas como son sus películas, también lo son transgresoras. Es hasta el día de hoy uno de los referentes más grandes del drag y el colectivo LGBTQ+ en general. Úrsula de La Sirenita (Ron Clements y John Musker, 1989) está hecha a semejanza de Divine8, drag queen con la que John Waters siempre trabajaba; todo un capítulo de Los Simpsons fue dedicado al director y su obra9; sus películas ayudaron a crear el concepto de “midnight movies”10. Sus obras se convirtieron en unas de culto, y lo hicieron desde la parodia y la sorpresa.

En una entrevista con Vanja Mutabdzija Jaksic para CBC Comedy11, la psiquiatra Joti Samra dice que “el humor es un mecanismo de supervivencia que nos permite ganar perspectiva y tomar un poco de control. En este sentido, el humor reformula experiencias así podemos ver algo de una forma diferente. (...) Cuando pensamos en ser expuestos a algo que está fuera de nuestro control, impredecible, sin sentido (...), sabemos que el humor negro puede tener un efecto positivo”. Y Shira Gabriel añade que “usamos la risa para ocupar el espacio cuando no sabemos qué decir o cómo sentirnos. (...) A veces nos reímos porque una situación se siente tan absurda que terminamos encontrando comedia en ella. Podemos pensar, ‘¿En serio está pasando esto?’”. Esto puede explicar por qué resulta gracioso ver cómo un árbol conecta a dos amantes por los ojos y boca, o cómo una persona disfrazada de tiburón mata gente en busca de venganza por estos mamíferos marinos. Hay cosas que nos salen tan naturalmente, que hacemos desde tan chicxs, que son costumbre y hasta se nos hace difícil pensar en un universo en el que nuestra actitud frente a ellas sería diferente, que distanciarnos un poco de ellas y verlas con otros ojos pueden llevar a las ideas más bizarras y entretenidas. Cortar árboles para usar como decoraciones de Navidad o asesinar a millones de tiburones por año, por ejemplo. Lo dice la misma sinopsis de la película canadiense12: “Treevenge detalla las experiencias y horrorosas realidades de las vidas de los árboles de Navidad. Claramente, para los árboles, Navidad no es la emocionante “paz en el mundo” que es experimentada por la mayoría. Después de ser talados, y despachados lejos de sus casas, rápidamente son colgados, atornillados verticalmente para ser vistos por todos, expuestos en una humillación de llamativas decoraciones.” El director encuentra el origen de esta idea en la tradición que comparte todos los años en Navidad con su familia, en el ritual de decorar el árbol y lo que eso significa para los árboles13.

John Waters también usa el humor como forma de activismo, “I always try to surprise people; it’s easy to shock people. But surprising people and keeping their interest and making them laugh is how you get people to change their opinion. I’m not a separatist in any way, I believe that even your political enemies, in a way, if you can make them laugh, it’s the first step to changing their minds. I’m for humor as terrorism. To mortally embarrass the enemy with words and actions. Not violence.” (Siempre trato de sorprender a la gente; es fácil shockear a la gente. Pero sorprender a la gente y mantener su interés y hacerlxs reir es como haces que la gente cambie de opinión. No soy un separatista de ninguna manera, creo que incluso a tus enemigxs políticxs, de alguna forma, si podes hacerlxs reír, es el primer paso para cambiar sus mentes. Voy por el humor como terrorismo. Avergonzar mortalmente al enemigo con palabras y acciones. No con violencia)14. El humor, la sorpresa, lo desagradable, como forma de generar interés en la gente y hacerla escuchar lo que unx está diciendo para, tal vez, lograr generar un cambio. Hay muchas cosas en este mundo que están mal, y de la mayoría somos causantes lxs seres humanos. La comedia negra, el cine bizarro, el shock… son formas de llegar al público con cuestionamientos sobre estas mismas situaciones de una manera accesible y un poco más soportable.

En conclusión, si bien la idea de un cine más banal y que persigue a la suciedad en lugar de temerle puede resultar chocante entre un público más clásico y estricto, pero la historia del cine deja en evidencia que toma un grupo de artistas yendo en contra de la norma para hacer un cambio verdadero, tanto de corrientes como de narrativas y técnicas. El cine bizarro existió siempre, porque todo puede ser bizarro; lo mismo con la comedia, y es en ellos que muchxs directorxs encuentran sus espacios para representar sus ideales. Habiendo tantos prejuicios y conceptos errados en consecuencia a la forma en que estos se representan y copian a lo largo del cine, no es sorprendente que aquellxs que piensan distinto busquen formas alternativas de desarrollar sus argumentos y representar lo que ellxs creen correcto, de modo que tanto el discurso como la forma de narrarlo vayan en contra de los conceptos más tradicionales al momento de cuestionarlos. Al mundo no se lo cambia siguiendo las reglas instauradas por quienes lo hicieron de esa manera, ¿por qué el cine sería distinto?

NOTAS:

1. Brianna Le Busque & Carla Litchfield (2021). Sharks on film: an analysis of how shark-human interactions are portrayed in films [Tiburones en el cine: un análisis sobre cómo las interacciones entre humanos y tiburones son representadas en las películas]. UniSA, Adelaida, Australia.

2. Dowling, D. (15 de agosto de 2014). How the Creator of ‘Jaws’ Became the Shark’s Greatest Defender. NARRATIVELY. Recuperado de https://narratively.com/how-the-creator-of-jaws-became-the-sharks-greatest-defender/

3. What is Squalene? #SharkFree. Recuperado de https://www.sharkfree.com/articles/what-is-squalene

4. Gavin Naylor, Tyler Bowling. The ISAF 2021 shark attack report. FLORIDA MUSEUM. Recuperado de https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/shark-attacks/yearly-worldwide-summary/

5. Elizabeth Palermo (16 de julio de 2015). Why Are People So Afraid of Sharks? LIVE SCIENCE. Recuperado de https://www.livescience.com/51579-fear-of-sharks-psychology.html

6. TREEVENGE, por XYZ Films. Recuperado de https://vimeo.com/493539614

7. Hag in a Black Leather Jacket. Letterboxd. Recuperado de: https://letterboxd.com/film/hag-in-a-black-leather-jacket/. Traducción de Valentina Quesada.

8. Cultura Colectiva (20 de julio de 2022). Who was Divine, the drag queen who inspired Ursula in “The Little Mermaid?”. Recuperado de: https://culturacolectiva.com/movies/who-was-divine-the-drag-queen-who-inspired-ursula-in-the-little-mermaid/

9. CK Kimball. (27 de junio de 2021). The Simpsons And John Waters: Deconstructing Homer's Phobia. Recuperado de: https://gamerant.com/simpsons-john-waters-homers-phobia/

10. Midnight movie. Wikipedia. Recuperado de: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midnight_movie

11. Vanja Mutabdzija Jaksic (3 de abril de 2020). Why watching comedies is 'important medicine' Recuperado de https://www.cbc.ca/comedy/why-watching-comedies-is-important-medicine-1.5519839. Traducción de Valentina Quesada.

12. Synopsis. Recuperado de http://www.treevenge.com/. Traducción de Valentina Quesada.

13. Rodney Perkins (20 de septiembre de 2008). Jason Eisener Talks TREEVENGE and the HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN Feature. Recuperado de https://screenanarchy.com/2008/09/treevenge.html

14. Brandon Baker. (27 de marzo de 2018). Filmmaker John Waters talks art, the meaning of ‘filthy,’ and humor as ‘terrorism’. Recuperado de: https://penntoday.upenn.edu/news/filmmaker-john-waters-talks-art-meaning-filthy-and-humor-terrorism

MATERIAL DE REFERENCIA:

- Helen Simpson (Directora). (2011). Gordon Ramsay: Shark Bait [Especial de Televisión]. Reino Unido: One Potato Two Potato y Optomen Television.

- Eisener, J. (Productor / Director). (2008). Treevenge [Película]. Canadá: Yer Dead Productions. Link: https://vimeo.com/5048966

- Richard D. Zanuck, David Brown (Productores) y Spielberg, S. (Director). (1975). Jaws [Película]. Estados Unidos: Zanuck/Brown Productions.

#PARCIAL N°2 #TRABAJO ESCRITO

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angel0news · 2 years

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Morocco firefighters battle infernos as villagers flee

Hundreds of Moroccan firefighters and soldiers battled late Thursday to put out at least four infernos ripping through forests in the north of the kingdom, officials said.

The fires, fanned by strong winds in the four areas, have not resulted in any casualties so far, but nearly 500 families were evacuated “as a precaution” in the provinces of Larache and Taza, according to official statements.

Several villages that were evacuated also saw military planes dropping loads of water to extinguish fires tearing across the dry terrain, an AFP journalist said. Shocked by how fast the flames were spreading, residents fled their homes, with some families herding their cattle and horses — upon which their livelihoods depend — ahead of them.

“I was with my family, and at one point, we heard people shouting, ‘Fire! Fire!’” said Samir Boundad, from Larache.

“We ran out to flee and fortunately, thanks to God, the fire moved up the mountain.” A village in the Ksar El Kebir region was destroyed by the flames.

Hundreds of civil defense workers, as well as soldiers and police officers, are trying to stop the fires from causing more destruction.

READ MORE : https://www.arabnews.com/node/2122746/middle-east

#Morocco

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calliopecalling · 3 years

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I did a live reaction again 👍🏼 Here it is below the cut! Spoiler alert: I loved this episode. Here we go!! Now I can’t wait to catch up on everyone else’s reactions.

-goddamn that getting dressed scene turned me on, something about how she put on that ring 🤤

-James in suspenders! Awww!

-overall very strong opening *whistles* there’s the Queen eh? All in white and it’s for her legitimate business!!?

-fucking Boaz... I know that line was in the teaser which I watched approximately 80 times but it still gave me goosebumps tonight. JT is that good

-no Castel???!!!! I was so hoping she would make a surprise appearance after the “previously on”

-is it just me or is anyone else starting to feel like Marcel MIGHT be overreacting just slightly?

-oh my GOD the Jeresa heart-eyes. Rewind, rewatch, rewind, rewatch, repeat...

-and the scene lasted OVER A FULL MINUTE (a minute and 24 seconds on my watch, not that I’m counting)

-and James is still holding out hope, isn’t he, just like the rest of us...

-UH OH BOAZ IS IN NEW ORLEANS 😱😱😱

-woweeeee that Marcel/Teresa staring contest ::chills:: I think Teresa won it?

-OH MY GOD JAMES AND TERESA IN A SHOOTOUT TOGETHER COVERING EACH OTHER HOLY YES THE TV GODS DO DELIVER 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

-I hate to say it but the KA pregnancy-related scenes drag in my opinion

-ok how about this ending: Teresa defeats Boaz and gives her entire business to Marcel. We good? 👍🏼

-Taza????!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-I almost thought James was going to kiss Teresa there ALMOST for like just a second before he ran off to risk his life for her (major 2x04 parallel vibes)

-is that a Plan B joke? lol

-this whole Marcel/Reggie scene seems like a “the enemy is the game and not the players” moral which is basically my take on this season

-I hope it’s not the last we see of Marcel though

-look I get these Kote moments are supposed to provide some levity but they take up way too much screen time and are not actually funny. 😒 WAY TOO MANY pregnancy tropes/jokes.

-that phone call, that coke, that scream (why did it have to be silent??), that tension, Alice and JT really knocking this KG is dead reveal scene out of the park

-Pote get on your game man

-we got a Plaid Teresa vision!!! I hope the first of more to come?? Yes to SURVIVING!

-“I’m not leaving without them” that’s right you’re not because you’re still you and your family still matters most ❤️💔❤️

#qots spoilers #king george rip #taza rip #and the oscars go to Alice and JT this episode #with Alimi a close runner up #all their scenes gave me chills #I feel like there’s more to dig into here with the Marcel and Reggie scene #but I’m slightly distracted by Teresa’s babeliness #and by that three seconds of is-he-going-to-kiss-her that I want a GIF of immediately #yes I’m twelve #three more episodes #queen of the south #qots #season 5 #5x07 #txt post #live reaction

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fandomkru · 3 years

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Character ranking for QOTS 5x07

Guys I'm in heaven with marcel's decision to leave!! One down, four more to go! Take notes on how it's done ma bois. Also FLANNEL TERESA!!! *dr strange voice* We're in the endgame now..

Marcel Dumas

Teresa Mendoza

James Valdez

Boaz Jimenez (still hate you)

Pote Galvez

Honourable mention: Kelly Anne Van Awken

(This was james in this ep and you can't change my mind)

#queen of the south #qots spoilers #who wants to bet that castel is dead as well?#also rip taza you were the best #@qots stop killing my fave characters dammit

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kngstella · 4 years

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La amplia sonrisa que llevaba en sus facciones desaparece en el momento que la taza recién comprada escapa de sus manos y golpea en el suelo, rompiéndose en varios pedazos. “Oh no, mi taza de sailor moon” murmura agachándose para reunir los pedazos, movimientos apresurados para no quedarse mucho tiempo en el pasillo del hotel, momento en el que se percata de una presencia ajena. “Disculpa, ¿no tienes una bolsa que me prestes?” no quería llevar los pedazos en la mano hasta un basurero, podía ser peligroso.

#dustst #stella cagándola como siempre #no hay mayor explicación #she's just dumb #rip la taza de sailor moon #perdón el st tan kk pero quiero sacar a esta idiota :c

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fromthesixteenthfloor · 5 years

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Che ‘Taza’ Romero & Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza // Raoul Max Trujillo & Antonio Jaramillo // “Mayans MC” Season 2 «‎I love you, brother. Forgive me»‎

#Mayans MC #Antonio Jaramillo #riz ariza #michael ariza #mayansedit #mayans fx #mayans #my gifs #F*ck you Traidor!#f*ck you Taza!#RIP Riz T__T #HE DESERVED BETTER #i love you so much

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years

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Ask List, Rules & Updates - PLEASE READ!

Please do not solicit me to read your work by tagging me or sending it to me unless I have asked you to.

The Schedule - See what's coming up this month!

Works In Progress - A visual up to date list of what I'm working on currently and their status.

MasterList:

Patreon:

Luna Creative Academy

Prompt Lists:

Character Tag List:

I have updated my ask list below so please only pick from the characters below if you want to submit.

The Rules:

Only pick people off the character list below for each fandom.

One prompt per ask - you can send as many asks as you want within reason

Include the whole prompt in the ask, not just the number.

I don’t write things like Voight’s daughter/Hondo’s friend/Adam’s sister

I also don't write specific asks on this blog eg: reader is a firefighter/doctor/cop who has this/does this. They meet and do this/and this and say this... I usually work from prompts.

I don't write other people's stories so if you have a long detailed idea you want writing, this is not the blog for you.

Fandoms & Chars I write for:

Chicago Fire:

Jeff Clarke

Chicago Med

Connor Rhodes

James Lanik

Crockett Marcel

Sam Abrams

Mitch Ripley

Dean Archer

Sean Archer

Chicago PD:

Antonio Dawson

Cobra Kai:

Daniel LaRusso

Johnny Lawrence

Terry Silver

Criminal Minds:

Luke Alvez

CSI Vegas:

Trey Cahill

Josh Folsom

FBI:

Jubal Valentine

O.A Zidan

Stuart Scola

FBI International:

Scott Forrester

Damien Powell

FBI: Most Wanted:

Remy Scott

Clinton Skye

Fire Country:

Bode Leone

Luke Leone

Manny Perez

Vince Leone

Haven:

Dwight Hendrickson

Duke Crocker

Nathan Wuornos

Hawaii Five-O:

Danny 'Danno' Williams

Adam Noshimuri

JAG:

Mic Brumby

Harmon 'Harm' Rabb

AJ Chegwidden

Kingsman:

Merlin

Law & Order:

Nolan Price

Nicholas Baxter

Jalen Shaw

Vince Riley

Cyrus Lupo

Michael Cutter

Law & Order: Organised Crime:

Bobby Reyes

Law & Order SVU:

Joe Velasco

Mike Duarte

Terry Bruno

Mayans MC:

Bishop Losa

Taza Romero

Micheal 'Riz' Ariza

Nestor Oceteva

Angel Reyes

EZ Reyes

Neron 'Creeper' Vargas

Bottles

Manny

MCU:

Frank Castle

The Musketeers:

Aramis

Porthos

Athos

Treville

Narcos:

Horacio Carrillo

NCIS:

Alden Parker

Nick Torres

NCIS LA:

Vostanik Sabatino

Arlo Turk

Harmon 'Harm' Rabb

Marty Deeks

AJ Chegwidden

NCIS: New Orleans

Dwayne Pride

Chris LaSalle

NCIS Sydney:

JD Dempsey

De Shawn Jackson

Michelle Mackey

Numb3rs:

Ian Egerton

Don Eppes

OUAT:

Sheriff Graham/The Huntsman

Psych:

Carlton Lassiter

Reacher:

Jack Reacher

The Rookie:

John Nolan

Wade Grey

Ejiah Vestri

Ryan Caradine

Aaron Thorsen

The Rookie Feds:

Matt Garza

Brendon Acres

SEAL Team:

Sonny Quinn

Brock Reynolds

Trent Sawyer

Eric Blackburn

Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade

Silent Witness:

Jack Hodgson

SOA:

Juan 'Juice' Ortiz

Filip 'Chibs' Telford

Alexander 'Tig' Trager

David Hale

S.W.A.T:

Rodrigo Sanchez

Donovan Rocker

Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent

Top Gun Maverick:

Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson

The Umbrella Academy:

Diego Hargreeves

White Collar:

Matt Keller

Will Trent:

Will Trent

Yellowstone:

Rip Wheeler

Travis Wheatley

Ryan

Walker

Feel free to send me prompts if you see anything you like with one of the characters.

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 2 years

Text

On the Run

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

On the Run Part 28

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Stalker ex, Scenes of abuse, Angst, Violence, Death

A/n: Ok, you're all gonna be glad to hear this series is pretty much done. It's gonna have 30 chapters all in all which I've mostly written, thye just need to be edited. Thank you everyone again that has read, liked, reblogged and commented on this series, its been so fun seeing everyone enjoy it <3

Fuck! It felt like all the breath had been snatched from your lungs. Bishop was missing. As much as everyone tried to reassure you, as much as they claimed it could be a million things, you knew what had happened. Joseph had gotten to him. You’d never been so sure of something in your life. However, what state he was in was anyone's guess.

Who was to say if he’s dead or alive?

You closed your eyes, drowning out Olivia as she tugged at your arm and tried to tell you it would be ok. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You couldn’t face Bishop getting hurt, couldn’t handle something happening to him because of you. It felt like your ears were filled with cotton, everything around you was fading into fuzziness, the whole world distorting as your mind filled with Bishop.

“Sophia! Hey- Hey, hey, we need you!”

You opened your eyes again as you registered a voice calling from above you. Your lids felt thick and heavy as shutters as they opened and your mind felt like syrup as realisation trickled into you slowly. Taza was above you holding out a phone covered in blood and debris and for a second you couldn't figure out why. You stared dumbly up at him, arms hanging heavily by your sides.

“Sophia its from one of the- the guys on the floor. Guy on the other end said he’d only speak to you.”

Your mind snapped to attention again and you zeroed in on the phone, snatching it from Taza. The wet metal plastic made you want to gag, but you stayed resolute as you held the phone to your ear and answered. You could ignore all the gore in the world if it meant finding out what happened to Bishop.

“Joseph. Where is he?”

The speaker broke up as a chuckle ripped out from the phone and you frowned as you tried to listen out for that telltale voice.

“Clever girl. You figured it out, huh?”

The phone must’ve been damaged in the shootout, his voice came through like a raspy phantom. You had to strain just to hear him through the blood and crackly static. It only added to the icy terror you already felt.

“I wanna know what you’ve done with him!”

“You’ll get to find out soon. First though, I’m gonna change up the rules of our little game. I’m gonna give you an address and you’re going to come alone and unarmed. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Joseph I need to know-”

“What did I just say?” Joseph growled.

You paused a minute, your whole body going rigid. Even on an almost dead phone you could pickup the threat in his voice. Any more interruptions and he’d definitely kill Bishop if he wasn’t dead already.

“Ok, I’ll meet you,” you breathed, voice breaking.

“What was that? I think you’re on a bad line, darlin’” He chuckled.

“I’ll do it! Just please, don’t kill Bishop!”

“There we go. Not hard to just give a simple answer after all,” he mocked, “I want you to go to 56 Brand Boulevard and wait for me outside. Can you do that, darlin’?”

“Yes, yes I’ll meet you there.”

“Good. Like I said - come alone. Otherwise I’ll just need to resume the shooting. Am I clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, princess.”

With that the phone clicked off and you were left rubbing at the bloody imprint on your cheek. As you started to ground yourself back to reality again, you realised that everyone was looking at you expectantly. They were waiting for you to give them an update. Taza and Creeper were on their feet, looking down at you with manic eyes, meanwhile Olivia was by your side, crouching in the rubble by your feet.

“Well? Was that him, the Joseph guy?” Taza said, still holding his own phone by his ear.

“I need to go meet him.”

“Ok, where?” Creeper asked, already beginning to get on the move and reload.

“I need to go alone,” you whispered.

“You’re not going alone,” Taza growled, “Did he say anything about Bishop?”

“He definitely has him, he just wouldn’t tell me about him. I- I don’t know what kinda state he’s in… Taza I- I do have to go alone. If Joseph sees-”

“Even if we didn’t care if you lived or died, that’s our Prez out there. You’re not going alone,” Creeper said from his spot way over the otherside of the room.

You breathed out a sigh of frustration and shook your head. They didn’t get it. If Joseph was telling you to come alone, you’d only have one chance at it. He wouldn’t forgive you showing up with an army, he’d shoot everyone on sight and leave you till last, making you watch as everyone fell into the dust before he squashed you himself. A chill roiled its way through your body at the thought alone.

You felt another tug at your arm and looked over to Olvia who’d been sitting silently at your side, now staring at you with a knowing look. She knew exactly what was going through your mind, she knew you weren’t gonna let them tail you. Your heart was skipping a mile a minute as you tried to come up with a way out. You were wracking your brain for what to do, the address that Joseph told you was imprinted on your brain. 56 Brand Boulevard. Where even was that?

“He said to meet him at 26 Marrow Drive, said to come alone and unarmed,” you mumbled.

“26 Marrow Drive? That place a couple ‘a roads west?” Taza repeated.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged, “I need to go to the bathroom, I- I need to get this shit off me.”

You looked down at your clothes. You were covered in dust and rubble and blood, bits of glass were still clinging to your skin like tiny painful burrowing parasites. As you stood up and took lengthy steps, Olivia chased after you and forced her way into the bathroom before you could give a word of protest. You glared at her as she settled across from you on the toilet and gave you a hard look.

“What the hell?” You hissed, settling yourself against the sink.

“What the hell me? What the hell you!” She whisper yelled back.

“What?”

She gave you a very pointed look, folding her arms like an angry mother at you.

“Ok, so I lied about the address-”

“You’re not going alone! At least- at least bring one of the guys, anybody just don’t fall into his trap.”

“I’m not going against my word to him, Olivia. You don’t know him like I do. If I show up there and I’m there with backup he’ll slaughter everyone. He’s not a sympathetic man, he doesn’t allow for fuckups.”

You let the sink blare on so as not to rouse suspicion and opened up the broken phone that was still in your hands, now warm from the blood and being pressed so hard into your palms. The screen was cracked but it was intelligible enough to look at. Luckily it didn’t have a passcode so you were able to use maps and figure out where you were really headed to. You were sending the guys west, and luckily you were going east. They’d never figure out where you were going.

“Can’t you at least take a gun- or- or something?” she sighed.

“Bishop never got round to teaching me to shoot with all the Galindo stuff going on. I go in there with a gun, it's basically useless,” you retorted. “He’s not gonna wait five minutes while I take a shaky aim at him Olivia, this man’s a trained killer. I just need to turn up and hear out his demands.”

Olivia looked at you solemnly and cast her eyes over your aching body. Despite the adrenaline that was coursing through you, you could already start to feel the sharp pains and aches cutting into your skin. That glass was no joke.

You turned and looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, gazing with dull eyes as you tried to work out what blood was yours and what was other people. You made an attempt at trying to scrub at yourself, but Olivia soon found herself tutting and tugging you down onto the toilet, making you sit as she used a rag to wash over the patches of blood and took out shards of glass with her delicate fingers. It reminded you of being at Jerry's house, reminded you of cleaning the blood off of Olivia while she sat and processed that horror. How ironic that the roles were reversed now.

“There, I think that’s the best I can do,” she said eventually.

You nodded lamely and sighed. You supposed that was it. You’d have to start moving.

You looked up at Olivia and almost yelped as she dragged you up to your feet and embraced you in a warm tight hug. You settled after a second and hugged her back, feeling hot tears threatening to spill as you thought about all the time you’d spent with her. You couldn't have asked for a better friend to spend the last year with.

“I’m so glad I got to be your friend…I’m sorry I got you involved in all this. Hopefully…Hopefully it’ll all be over now,” you breathed.

“Stop saying sorry,” she cried, “Just go and get Bishop and find some way to kill that fucker.”

You held each other for a moment longer and finally turned toward the window. It was small, a tight fit, but you’d be able to jump through and get yourself moving. You assumed the guys would’ve stood down from their positions now the shooting was over. You knew you’d be able to scramble out unnoticed. You hoped at least.

You opened up the dusty yellow pane as silently as you could and looked out, sure enough there was no one there. You breathed out a sigh of relief and turned back toward Olivia. She needed to cover for you.

“I’ll wait 5 minutes after you’ve left then I’ll tell them you’ve gone,” she sighed.

You smiled up at her and with that, you jumped down from the ledge, landing on the hard ground below with an oomph. Your body had been through so much already, you had no idea how you were gonna make it to the address, but somehow you knew you’d need to do it.

You gave one last look toward Olivia and then bolted into the distance, figuring you could head toward the city and figure which way to go from there. You half expected to hear shouting and see signs of a pursuit behind you, but you didn’t hear anyone. You were alone now as you ran through the morning light, sweating as the sun began to climb in the sky.

The only thing that kept you going was hoping that Bishop was ok.

—

As you made your way through the desert and toward the streets of town, you could hear the sirens ringing out as police got wind of all the commotion. It gave you a little boost in confidence knowing the club would be too busy trying to wrangle their way out of cop trouble. It wasn’t like it was a good thing that it would cause extra issues for them, but at least they would be safe. As long as they could talk their way out of the shooting of course.

Meanwhile, you were heading down to the address, palms sweating as you thought of nothing but getting to Bishop. You knew you were most likely walking into some horrible trap, but all you could do was hope to appeal to Joseph's more narcissistic nature. If you could find a way to bargain with him and make him feel like you’d do anything for him again, maybe he’d let Bishop go.

The thought of having to go back with him for any length of time turned your stomach, but by this point it was your only bargaining chip left. You’d willingly spend years with the monster if it meant you could save your friends. You were well practised in pleasing him and obeying his every whim, he knew that, maybe he would want that back again.

You finally reached the address, anxiously looking over google maps once more and proceeding to check your surroundings. The neighbourhood was a little run down, you could tell this was the kinda place where trouble happened often, but then there were few places in Santo Padre you couldn’t say that about. The front lawns were crowded in old furniture and some contained snarling pit bull type dogs that looked grouchy from lying chained up in the sun.

“Get in the car.”

You wheeled around in time to see a figure standing before you. You had no idea where he’d come from, but there he was standing resolute before you. A big bald man that looked more roided out muscle than human. You gulped and nodded your head, staring off in the direction he was pointing. You followed obediently along and just before you could get in the back you were all but growled at.

“Get in the front. I don’t want you sitting behind me.”

You nodded again, finding yourself lost for words. Your whole body was tense, you couldn’t squeeze the words out of your windpipe. You were doing all you could not to choke on your own oncoming tears. You lamely moved to the front of the car and sat in the crushing heat of the black interior. Before you could really think to look around you had a piece of cloth dumped in your lap from the drivers side and were told to put it on.

You tied it loosely around your head only to receive another growl. The man tied it tighter, putting your head in what felt like a vice grip before moving off and speeding through the Santo Padre streets. Your body lurched with car sickness as the man moved aggressively through the roads, you were so anxious you had to do everything in your power not to throw up. You powered through, trying to remember this was all for Bishop.

You didn’t get long to sit in your thoughts. You were in the car for maybe around ten minutes before it came to a screeching halt and suddenly you found yourself being lugged up by the big man, dragged along like a ragdoll. As you were being taken along a path and toward what you imagined to be a house, you found yourself breaking. Tears escaped your eyes and dampened the cloth, mingling with the sweat that was already there from the oppressive old car.

“Stop cryin’ and move it!”

You gasped as you were tugged along harder, scrambling as you tried to keep up with the man's pace. Your body ached, you could barely keep yourself upright as you ran along with his long strides. It was overwhelming, you didn’t know where you were, where you were going, if Joseph would even be there when you got in. You were powerless, everything was in Joseph's favour just as he’d designed it.

The man next to you came to a sudden stop and let you stumble as he opened a door, he caught you just as the cool air from inside washed over your body. You shivered. You were forced inside, taking crinkling steps as your feet walked over a strange surface, it unnerved you as you were shoved forward and sat on what felt like a couch. You heard the man walk away, leaving you behind in the strange room.

You were only left alone for a few minutes, not long until your peace was disturbed.

“You actually kept the blindfold on…Y’know, I’m starting to think you might be salvageable,” a familiar voice chuckled out.

You breathed out a soft gasp and felt your shoulders draw up. Joseph’s voice always had a way of making a chill run to your very core. You felt the tears in your eyes draw to a stop and took a second before replying, thinking a minute about what you’d say. You had to be smart now, you had to be careful with your words.

“And if I were salvageable?” you replied.

Dry laughter sounded out closer to you now and caused you to inhale as you heard him stop right behind you. If you were any more tense your body would snap.

“Are you trying to make an offer, darlin?” He asked, clearly amused as hell by you.

“I- I want to…yes.”

Joseph paused behind you for a second, it only made you all the more nervous as you wondered at what he was doing. Was he considering a proposal? Was he taking time to think of more ways to fuck with you? There was no way of knowing. You grimaced waiting for his rebuttal.

You jumped when you felt Joseph's breath on your neck, tickling at your ear like a malicious spirit. You gulped, and just as you were about to ask what he was doing he placed a kiss on your neck and then a few more leading up to the blindfold. You had to hold yourself back from cringing, every kiss felt like a burn as they trailed up your skin like a branding iron.

“Are you gonna be my good girl again, huh?”

You nodded just barely, not able to produce any sound when he was on you like this. It was taking all your willpower not to wretch from just his lips on you.

“Aw, that’d be nice wouldn’t it. I’ve missed you, you know that? Having you at home waiting for me. Having my dinner cooked, doing everything Just like I like it, exactly when I want it…Those were the days,” he mused.

When I was your prisoner, you thought sourly. You were yanked from your thoughts immediately as your blindfold was snatched off from your head and flinched as light filtered into your eyes. You had to blink past the spots for a second before you could see the plastic covered lounge around you. Of course. That’s what the strange material was underneath your feet.

“Aw, don’t look like that. I’m just tryna keep the place clean, darlin’” Joseph smirked, coming into view in front of you. “I know how much you hate cleaning up messes so I figured you’d sympathise.”

You stared up at him uneasily, taking in his appearance. His normal outfit was replaced with something far more practical for an assault. Instead of wearing an expensive shirt and slacks he was decked out in a black hoodie with a tac vest and black jeans. Your gaze drifted down to his feet, adorned in scary steel toe cap boots, then you looked back to his face. You’d never seen him look this…unhinged before. And that was saying something.

“Joseph,” you squeaked. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You’ll see.”

You didn’t want to see. In fact you'd rather have flown out the window at that very moment. There was one to your right, leading out into a very normal looking enclosed back garden with a sprawling view of the dusty hills beyond it. Apart from all the plastic everywhere this looked just like a normal new build house. The walls were white and floor was cheap wood, a blank canvas ready to be decorated by a new family, or in this case a sick predator.

There was a door to your left where you’d likely come in through from the outside and then on the adjacent wall, just across from you, another door that Joseph was looking toward now. You searched around behind you quickly, seeing a kitchen through another open door. From what you could make out there was a gun sitting almost out of sight on a breakfast bar, laying temptingly just out of reach. You didn't let your gaze linger too long, you didn’t want Joseph to register your knowledge of it.

As you brought your attention back around you watched with horror as Joseph directed two men dragging an unconscious Bishop by the arms. One of them was the same man from before, his big frame was coming in handy now as he came through the door and dumped Bishop on the plastic. You wanted to screech and yell, run to him, grab him off the two goons. Instead you sat there mutely, staring ahead and waiting for what Joseph would do next.

“Wake him up, Freight.”

Bishop looked worse for wear, his right leg had been injured badly and his head was littered with bruises. Other than a few surface wounds, you didn’t register much else, he would be ok. For now. Though you knew that wouldn’t last much longer.

He was soon unceremoniously stuck with a needle, only given a few more seconds of peace before he was retching awake. He took thick strangled gasps, coming to violently as he tried to sit himself up. His attempt was blocked however by the big man that took you as he forced Bishop’s arms behind his back. The other skinnier man that had accompanied him stood and watched, pointing what you assumed was an MP5 at his head.

“Sophia, what are you doing here?” Bishop coughed weakly, putting up a futile struggle against the roided out soldier.

Bishop’s words rang in your ears. You swallowed thickly as you watched Joseph frown and then eventually grin with understanding as he looked from you to Bishop and back again. Fuck. He was going to use this to break you.

“Oh wow. You know I figured ‘Sophia’ was just a cover you used over messages, a little paranoia thing. It would have been typical of you to be thorough like that, but you mean to tell me he actually calls you that? Does he even know your real name?”

It was Bishop’s turn to frown at you now as you sat there feeling like your heart was going to explode. How were you going to explain this?

Next Part Here

——

Tag list

@nessamc @just1bri @minimel-fics @adaydreamaway08 @est1887 @trustme3-13 @keshawna02 @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @choochoo284 @ly-c10 @garbinge @lyly00 @onetimeinjedicamp @thelawyer94 @whiterose38 @jadesid @delightfulheroshoeflap @the-anonymous-pen

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #mayans mc fic

39 notes · View notes

twistnet · 3 years

Text

habromania [ bishop losa ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; delusions run high as you begin to wonder where it all had gone wrong ; more so as you lean against the wall of the bathroom realizing just how fucked up your situation is

⋯ PROMPT ; shh — to cover my muse’s mouth because someone knocked on the door while our muses are having sex in a washroom

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, angst, smut [ hate-sex, mild-choking, covering of mouth, unprotected sex, little to no foreplay ] + mature language

⋯ NOTES ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post will be blocked

chucky nodded to you as you pulled into the lot, parking your car out of the way just in case someone else happened to arrive. you smiled, waving to the man as you stepped out of your car, nervously twisting your fingers as you looked up at the clubhouse.

it had been a couple days since you had seen bishop, mainly due to conflicting schedules. but something had just seemed...off about him. and more so, after the call last night from antonia about his late night visit. so, in hopes you weren’t going to be walking in on something important, you had taken the rest of the day off to make sure he was doing okay.

you stepped into the clubhouse, shutting the door behind you. members looked up from what they were doing, shooting you smiles and waves as you made your way inside. tranq stood from his seat to hug you, muttering a quick ‘morning, reina’ before taza took his place to do the same. as they retook their seats, your eyes landed on the person you had came here for.

he looked down at the table, eyes focused on the thin trail of smoke coming from the end of his cigarette. “why are you here?” his tone was harsher than anticipated, your eyes sparing a glance toward the other two men seated at the table. however, no contact was made. you crossed your arms over your chest, cocking a hip out to your side, “i came to see that you were alright, obispo. but don’t worry, i’m leaving now.”

you nodded your goodbyes to the other mayans, turning on your heel to exit when bishop’s voice stopped you short, “you wasted your time.” you bit your tongue, shaking your head as you pulled open the clubhouse door, “seems all i ever do with you.” muttering as the door slammed shut behind you.

bishop stamped out his cigarette, angrily standing from his seat as he tailed after, forcefully ripping the clubhouse door open and stomping over to you. his hand caught your arm just as you were about to open the car door, instead ripping you away and pulling you toward the yard office. your curses sounding throughout the space as he all but shoved you into the small bathroom, effectively locking the door in place behind him before he turned to you.

“are you out of your fucking mind?!” you seethed, angrily attempting to get past him to the door. yet, he stood firm, fixing you with a burning glare as he took a few steps forward. slowly forcing you to back against the wall, to a point where he was pressed up against you and heavy breaths stung against the exposed skin of your neck. “am i out of my fucking mind, querdia? hmmm?”

teeth clashed as bishop’s solid body crashed against yours, hands roughly grabbing the back of your neck and hip to keep you in place as his lips bruised your own. he pulled away, letting you suck in a harsh breath before pressing his lips to the exposed skin of you neck.

there was a brief pause, hot breaths fanning against your ear as bishop’s grip tightened at your hips. “do you want this?” his fingers trailing down your front, slipping beneath the fabric of your jeans and panties. an amused noise sounded at the back of his throat, one that you seemingly hadn’t heard in some time. but the slight pinch to your clit quickly derailed the short moment of thought.

you panted, shifting your hips to move in time with his ministrations, “obispo - “ your words cut off by another quick pinch to the bundle of nerves, silencing you to a qasp. “just answer the question.”

“yes.” at your words, he bucks against you, groaning in your ear. you, in turn, arch your back to grind against him, feeling his hardening length press against the soft flesh of your ass.

at a soft growl, his hands leave, forcing you to stand facing the small bathroom mirror. your hands gripping the sides of the sink as bishop’s fingers start to make quick work of your pants. promptly pushing them to mid thigh before he works at his jeans.

it’s not long until you feel his blunt head, running between your folds, bumping your clit as he pushes you further into the sink to get the right angle.

there was a slight sting to the stretch, chalking it up to the lack of foreplay bishop used and the fact it had been entirely too long since the two of you had been like this. but he stopped to let you adjust, after feeling you clench him tightly. his thumbs rubbing small circles at your hips.

as he bottomed out, a hand moved from your hip to cover your mouth. his pace was unforgiving, yet had a tender feel with every snap of his hips against yours. it was unbelievably embarrassing in how fast you had come with the combined simulation of his fingers against your clit.

bishop’s hips kept at his pace, pushing you through your nerve-racking orgasm and slowly building you back up for a another. you could breifly hear him grunting out different things, yet you were so focused on chasing your high that they fell into the background.

you sagged against the sink, arms bracing the porcelain to keep yourself upright as the aftershocks of your last orgasm melted away. your breathing slowly evened, legs regaining some of the feeling. you smiled, getting ready to shoot it over your shoulder when you heard bishop’s jeans zip and the belt buckle clasp.

you looked up, not finding his eyes in the mirror as he cleaned himself up. he took a breath, opening his mouth to say something before it seemed he changed his mind. and you watched in slight horror as he unlocked the door and walked out, tears pricking your eyes as the door fell shut.

you slowly redressed, not caring of the tears that had fallen down the slopes of your cheeks as you grabbed your things from the floor. you shuffled everything together, quickly exiting the bathroom in embarrassment. dragging what was left of your dignity to your car before just as quickly leaving the yard.

unknown to bishop, as a war against him and his charter was in the make, you were packing your things from your shared house. shoving what you could carry in your car, with a promise to get the rest at a later date. the only thing left behind unboxed, was your ring. laid atop the counter in the kitchen with a simple note.

it was a nice illusion, but never true happiness for either of us.

will love you always

blog navigation ⇢ [ mayans mc masterlist ]

#mayans #mayans fx #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc fx #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa smut #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2021

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Grey Lace.

*Grey Leather*

*Grey Uniform*

*Grey Dress*

*Grey Vase*

*Grey Blanket*

*Grey Jeans*

*Grey Socks*

*Grey Boxes*

*Grey Balloons*

*Grey Singlet*

*Grey Cocktails*

*Grey Keys*

*Grey Rope*

*Grey Boxing Gloves*

*Grey Ice Pack*

As always thank you to @beccabarba for being my beta for this series.

Warnings: drinking, swearing and smut.

WC: 1663

Enjoy x

While most days you went straight home after a shift, very rarely going past the club house often anymore, today was an important day. Bishop wanted you there, but you really wanted to be there. You had been close to Coco as you started to get older, you and Rosa hanging around him a lot just before and when you came back from college. Now he was getting better, getting the help he needed, Bishop had said he could come back to work at the scrap yard for now as a start. Gilly, Angel and Ez decided to throw him a welcome back party and as usual it was going to be big, loud and have lots of food and alcohol. You finished your shift showering and changing into a Mexican style red floral short dress after your shift and Chucky had offered to come and pick up you and your partner to take you to the party so you didn’t have to drive.

You both walked in through the gate looking around the outdoor area, other Mayan’s saying hello as you walked through with girls hanging off of them, Hank grabbing your partner straight away handing him a beer and you kept walking inside after he kissed you on top of the head hello.

As you walked through the door to find Bishop hoping he was in his usual chair, you were met with loud laughing that rose over the music and your head shot towards the pool table. Angel was leaning against it with his shirt off, Rosa moving to stand up straight from licking salt off his chest, knocking back a shot and sucking on some lime. Angel lent down and kissed Rosa’s cheek before he looked over her head and noticed you standing there with one eye brow raised,

“Our Queen has arrived” Angel smirked at you.

“Fuck you Reyes” you grinned

Angel laughed at you before he walked over to give you a kiss on the cheek and you made your way around the pool table greeting Rosa, Ez, Gabby, Gilly, Letty and finally Coco,

“It’s so good to see you”

“Same here Mama” Coco kissed your cheek “Thank you for everything”

“Of course, Coco” you smiled at him “Have you seen Bishop?”

“He should be back soon, just in the scrap yard office”

A grin pulled to your face and you said thank you. You walked to the bar and asked for a bottle of tequila, shot glasses, salt and lime grabbing them walking out the door,

“The party is here Y/N” Angel smart mouthed you “Want a lick?”

“Angel” you rolled your eyes.

“I know, fuck you”

You made your way across the yard to the office, pushing the door open with your hip. As you walked in you saw Bishop and Taza looking at the computer and them looking over at you,

“Hey” Taza smiled at you, walking over and kissing you on the cheek.

“Hey Baby” Bishop said over his shoulder smiling at you before turning back to the computer.

“We will talk about it tomorrow” Taza looked at Bishop before patting your shoulder and walking out the door.

You walked behind the counter sitting the contents of your hands on it and Bishop turned on his chair, looking at you and then looking at what you put on the counter. Bishop hooked an arm around you, pulling you between his spread legs and you dipped your head peaking his lips,

“The party is out there Y/N” Bishop smirked.

You giggled, your hands brushing over his shoulders and down his arms, his hands running over your back,

“I know. But I thought we could have our own party” you purred “Body shots?”

Bishop grinned and grabbed your ass through your dress biting his bottom lip,

“Lock the door” You did what Bishop asked you to, while he poured two shots. You came back to stand between his legs “You first baby” he winked at you.

You grinned picking up the salt shaker, you grabbed his left arm, liking a strip over his wrist and tipping salt onto it, you sat the shaker down and raised an eye brow at him,

“Ready babe?”

“Always ready, you know that” he grinned.

You ran your tongue over the line of salt seductively, looking out the corner of your eye, spinning to grab the shot glass drinking it down and grabbing a lime wedge sucking on it and gifting Bishop a wink. A low rumble through Bishop’s chest. The body shots off each other went on for a while, you licking over Bishop’s neck, collar bone and a few places on his chest. Bishop licking over your neck and the tops of your breasts. Now, you were sitting on the counter, your dress pushed right up to your hips showing off your grey lace panties that made Bishop swallow hard when he saw them.

Bishop licked up the top inside of your thigh, and you moaned at how high he licked, flicking his tongue over your skin. He picked up the salt, shaking it over the wet strip. Bishop looked up at you with a devilish grin sitting down the salt shaker. His lips landed next to your knee and he started to plant big wet kisses up your thigh, his hands resting on your behind again, both your hands flat behind you on the counter. Bishop kissed up to the line of salt, he flattened his licking over the salt collecting it on his tongue, but he didn’t stop, he kept licking up to your lace covered core licking a strip up it.

Your head dropped back as his tongue pushed the lace into your clit and in a flash, Bishop hooked his finger into your panties moving them to the side and licked a strip up your every wet core. Bishop pulled on your ass, pulling you forward and you fell back on your elbow’s, Bishop throwing your legs over his shoulders and started to eat you out like a starving man.

Bishop took your clit between his lips sucking on it and pushed in two fingers curling them up to hit your sweet spot. You balanced on one elbow, your other going to the back of his head pushing him into you more. You started to roll your hips up into his face, your knees caging around his head as they started to tremble,

“Bish-I Bishop” you moaned.

His fingers pushing into you hard and fast, he sucking and his tongue flicking your clit made you pant loud. Bishop could fill your inner walls gripping around his fingers. He pulled back, letting your legs drop off him and you whined breathlessly. Bishop pulled you off the counter to your feet. He grabbed your hips spinning you around to face the chair and he pushed you forward to lean on it. His hands went up under your dress, pulling down your panties letting them drop to the floor. You stepped out of them and he picked them up putting them in his back jean pocket.

Bishop pushed your dress up your back, licked a strip on your lower back, grabbed the salt shaker, shaking the salt on the wet patch he left on your skin. He undone his belt buckle and jeans pushing them and his boxers down, they dropping to his ankles. One of his hands wrapped around himself giving him a few pumps while he lent down liking the salt off your back, he lined himself up to you as he stood back up and started to push into you slightly as he reached for a shot, drinking it down and then grabbed a lime wedge sucking on it as he bottomed out in you.

Bishop threw the lime out of his mouth and the started to thrust into you hard and fast. His hand grabbing onto your shoulder slamming you back into him, you pushing back into him just as hard and his other hand gripped your hip,

“Like that baby don’t you, my tongue all over you”

“Yes” you moaned out.

“Such a dirty girl for me”

Your head dropped forward, balancing on the edge of your release, Bishop knew you were close, he wasn’t far behind, his hand leaving your hip and snaking around for his long fingers to roll over your clit. Your hands grabbed onto your breasts and you started to squeeze them gently tugging on your nipples through your dress and bra.

“Bishop-I” you were cut off as your orgasm ripped through your body. Your knees trembled and your head fell onto the chair seat your eye squeezing so tight you saw stars.

Your hearing was fuzzy, you only heard the muffled noise of Bishop groaning yours and gods name and the feeling of him cumming deep inside you. You both stayed connected, breathing heavy both trying to catch your breaths. Bishop lent down kissing over your shoulder as he pulled out of you standing up off you to fix himself up. You gave your legs a minute and stood up flattening your dress and turning around to face him,

“We should do that more often” Bishop smirked.

You giggled walking over to him and putting your hands on his chest, he leaning down to kiss you deeply, his hands resting on yours. Bishop’s tongue rolling into your mouth slow and lazy, one of your hands started to run down his chest, Bishop’s hand moving to your cheek and yours continued around to his back pocket to your panties. Just as your hand went to slip into the pocket Bishop broke the kiss reaching around to stop your hand,

“No, you don’t”

“What? Come on babe” you whined.

Bishop smiled big and shook his head no, raising an eye brow,

“Not yet baby” Bishop lent over once more, his lips at your ear “I want to make you come again before you put them back on.”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @jemmakates @lyly00

#bishop losa #bishop losa x you #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa smut #bishop losa x #mayans fanfic #mayans smut

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valentinasofia · 2 years

Text

RESUMEN ACTUALIZADO DEL PROYECTO

LINK AL DOCUMENTO DE GOOGLE: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CUN_3_SWvocBTtGIzBSGlwJNJ66hFvW8GA_CmBS50Eo/edit?usp=sharing

Proyecto de Trabajo de Graduación de la Licenciatura en Artes Audiovisuales con orientación en Realización

VAL LOVES SHARS. El cine satírico y bizarro como forma de activismo.

SÍNTESIS DE PROPUESTA: En este escrito me propongo hacer un recorrido a lo largo de la historia de la representación medial de los tiburones y analizar cómo esta afecta negativamente a la preservación de estos hermosos animales; y propongo, desde la sátira y el humor, formas de empezar a cuestionar el problema con el cine.

PALABRAS CLAVE: ACTIVISMO, SÁTIRA, VIOLENCIA, AMBIENTALISMO, TIBURONES.

Podría sentarme a escribir mil y una razones por las cuales los tiburones deberían ser salvados y llenar las tres hojas de este escrito con nada más que eso; podría usar mi historia de Instagram para publicar información que a nadie le importa sobre cómo, exactamente, podemos salvarlos (y para la tristeza de mis amigxs y seguidorxs, ya lo hago); podría salir a la calle a gritarle a la gente que por favor, por una vez por todas, haga algo al respecto – pero no veo que sea necesario, ya que Val lo dice todo en sus videos. Sí, se trata de una obra satírica que se burla del activismo y no se toma en serio a sí misma, pero no creo que le falte información del tema sobre el que busca concientizar. Después de todo, Valentina dice casi tantas cosas sin sentido como datos certeros acerca de los tiburones: son más de 100 millones que mueren al año, todo a causa de la pesca –en su mayoría en busca de sus aletas, las cuales son cortadas de tiburones que luego serán tirados al agua nuevamente, todavía vivos, para sofocarse hasta la muerte, lenta y dolorosamente, en el fondo del océano–, y están desapareciendo de a poco, llegando algunas especies a la extinción1. Si fuera tiburón, yo también buscaría venganza de cualquier manera, incluso en forma de veinteañera disfrazada y armada con un garfio gigante.

A lo largo de la historia del cine fueron muchas las películas que pusieron a los tiburones como villanos, que los despojaron de todas las características menos la de ser monstruos, animales sin ningún valor más que el de ser cazadores, salvajes y asesinos de, específicamente, humanxs (y un par de mascotas). Empezó con Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975) y se mantuvo vivo con sus secuelas y rip-offs, desde Deep Blue Sea (Renny Harlin, 1999) hasta The Meg (Jon Turteltaub, 2018). Películas que, con estudios que lo confirman, crearon un estigma detrás de este hermoso animal y lo convirtieron en un objeto de horror y misterio para gran parte de la sociedad2. El mismo Peter Benchley, escritor de la obra que originó el mito, se dedicó, con las ganancias de la película y a través de la defensa y activismo por los tiburones, a remediar lo que su propia creación había logrado3.

Con esto último no quiero decir que es gracias a Jaws que extinguimos al 90% de la populación de tiburones – sería absurdo de mi parte creer eso. Culpo principalmente a la industria pesquera y de belleza, las que cobran más de 100 dólares por una taza de sopa de tiburón (que según Gordon Ramsay, cocinero y activista, en Gordon Ramsay: Shark Bait (Helen Simpson, 2014): "en realidad, no sabe a nada. Casi como simples fideos de cristal") y nos hacen creer que la manera más efectiva de mantenernos jóvenes y bellxs es poniéndonos cremas en la cara que contienen aceites provenientes de hígados de tiburones4. Son ellxs, después de todo, quienes venden carne de tiburón en supermercados camuflada bajo otros nombres, quienes ocultan de dónde provienen los ingredientes de origen animal, quienes pescan ilegalmente y sin seguir las reglamentaciones de cada país. Los números son, en sí mismos, más terroríficos que cualquier película. 5 personas (y un perro) mueren a lo largo de las 2 horas y 4 minutos de Jaws; en ese tiempo, entre 22 y 60 mil tiburones mueren a manos de pescadorxs5. Lo que tampoco puedo negar es que la forma en que los medios presentan a los tiburones son gran parte de la causa por la que la sociedad teme a los tiburones. David Ropeik, instructor de comunicación de riesgo en la Universidad de Harvard y autor de "How Risky Is It, Really? Why Our Fears Don't Always Match the Facts" (McGraw-Hill Education, 2010), dice que se debe al "cerebro perezoso”6 –“atajos” mentales que nos permiten juzgar situaciones rápidamente y sin tener toda la información: si todo lo que sabemos acerca de los tiburones proviene de la forma en que los medios los retratan –de mirar "Shark Week" y leer noticias sobre sanguinarios ataques en las costas playeras a lo largo del mundo– nuestros cerebros conectan a estos animales con violencia y asesinato, disponiéndonos a temerles.

No es inusual pensar en hacer activismo a través de la sátira y el humor. Numerosos artistas se ganan la vida con esa fórmula: Boon Joon-ho (Okja, 2017; Snowpiercer, 2013; The Host, 2006), Larry Cohen (The Stuff, 1985), Brian Yuzna (Society, 1989), Terry Gilliam (Brazil, 1985), Jason Eisener (Treevenge, 2008), Karyn Kusama (Jennifer's Body, 2009), John De Bello (Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!, 1978) o Gordon Douglas (Them!, 1954). Podría seguir para siempre. Desde que existe el miedo a que los seres humanos hayamos llegado lo suficientemente lejos como para verdaderamente lastimar al planeta, existe la posibilidad de explotar ese miedo en forma de arte. Algunas se toman más en serio que otras, algunas tienen más o menos presupuesto, algunas terminan en orgías bodyhorrorescas y algunas cambiaron la historia del cine, convirtiéndose en símbolos feministas una década después de estrenarse porque la sociedad no estaba lista para ellas cuando salieron (sí, Jennifer’s Body, te estoy mirando).

Podría analizar cualquiera de las películas previamente mencionadas e intentar relacionarla con mi proyecto y encontrar algo interesante, creo. Porque todas, en algún punto, se conectan con el mismo. Son probablemente parte del origen de la idea –crecí mirando esas películas, son referentes incluso inconscientemente–. Puedo hablar sobre cómo una película como Society (1989) me enseñó más sobre la lucha de clases que cualquier lección sobre Marx dictada en la escuela; o sobre cómo no entendí verdaderamente qué era un GMO hasta que no miré Attack of the Killer Tomatoes! (1978); pero para eso necesitaría todo un libro de espacio en el que explayarme. Lo que sí puedo hacer es elegir una de las tantas mencionadas e intentar explicar por qué, así como con las otras, siento una conexión entre ella y mi propio proyecto:

Se trata de una joya desconocida y que, no me canso de decir, merece ser elogiada por todxs. Treevenge, se llama. Un cortometraje de 2008 dirigido por Jason Eisener. Me disculpo por no encontrarlo en español, pero puede verse en inglés en la página de Vimeo del mismo director¹. Como bien dice el título, se trata de árboles (específicamente pinos, de los navideños) que se vengan por los años de ser mutilados y decorados llegada la Navidad. Desde su origen, es imposible tomarse en serio y esperar que el público haga lo mismo: la misma premisa es, después de todo, una cosa ridícula. Árboles que hablan, gritan y desesperan, y una vez decorados y ubicados en sus respectivos hogares, se revolucionan y empiezan a matar a las familias que los compraron. Todo muy Katniss ofreciéndose como tributo en The Hunger Games (Gary Ross, 2012) para luego tirar prender fuego al Capitolio desde adentro, para dar una idea. La considero un referente porque, a pesar de lo que pensé por mucho tiempo, que algo sea cómico no significa que valga menos. Gracioso, satírico, ridículo, desagradable. Nunca pensé que una película que valiera la pena pudiera catalogarse bajo alguno de esos adjetivos, no hasta que deconstruí mi idea clasista (?) de lo que es el “buen cine” y me di cuenta de que hasta lo más nefasto puede ser arte y, al mismo tiempo, contar algo que valga la pena –porque, si la reducimos a la premisa más básica, esta obra nos dice algo importante: estamos mutilando miles de árboles por año para usarlos como decoración por dos días de celebración y después tirarlos a la basura. Hay cosas que nos salen tan naturalmente, que hacemos desde tan chicxs, que son costumbre y hasta se nos hace difícil pensar en un universo en el que nuestra actitud frente a ellas sería diferente, que distanciarnos un poco de ellas y verlas con otros ojos pueden llevar a las ideas más bizarras y entretenidas. Para Eisener, este acto fue el de cortar árboles para Navidad; para mí, es asesinar a millones de tiburones por año para usar sus aceites en cosméticos y aletas en sopas. Manzanas y peras.

Graciosísimo y tan sarcástico que duele. Y aún y así, ni siquiera ver la cabeza de un bebe explotando después de ser aplastada por un árbol (no me canso de decir, denle una oportunidad a esta obra de arte) le saca valor a la clara crítica social que propone. Incluso creo que le da más fuerza, porque (no sé qué dice sobre mi persona lo que voy a decir a continuación, pero) entre este cortometraje canadiense y un documental sobre por qué cortar árboles para Navidad está matando a los bosques, me quedo mil veces con el primero, y aseguro que voy a recordarlo por más tiempo.

NOTAS:

1. Kameron Schroeder (4 de diciembre de 2014). Shark Finning Kills 100 Million Sharks a Year, International Commission Fails to Address Crisis. ECOWATCH. Recuperado de https://www.ecowatch.com/shark-finning-kills-100-million-sharks-a-year-international-commission-1881982976.html

2. Brianna Le Busque & Carla Litchfield (2021). Sharks on film: an analysis of how shark-human interactions are portrayed in films [Tiburones en el cine: un análisis sobre cómo las interacciones entre humanos y tiburones son representadas en las películas]. UniSA, Adelaida, Australia.

3. Dowling, D. (15 de agosto de 2014). How the Creator of ‘Jaws’ Became the Shark’s Greatest Defender. NARRATIVELY. Recuperado de https://narratively.com/how-the-creator-of-jaws-became-the-sharks-greatest-defender/

4. What is Squalene? #SharkFree. Recuperado de https://www.sharkfree.com/articles/what-is-squalene

5. Gavin Naylor, Tyler Bowling. The ISAF 2021 shark attack report. FLORIDA MUSEUM. Recuperado de https://www.floridamuseum.ufl.edu/shark-attacks/yearly-worldwide-summary/

6. Elizabeth Palermo (16 de julio de 2015). Why Are People So Afraid of Sharks? LIVE SCIENCE. Recuperado de https://www.livescience.com/51579-fear-of-sharks-psychology.html

MATERIAL DE REFERENCIA:

- Helen Simpson (Directora). (2011). Gordon Ramsay: Shark Bait [Especial de Televisión]. Reino Unido: One Potato Two Potato y Optomen Television.

- Eisener, J. (Productor / Director). (2008). Treevenge [Película]. Canadá: Yer Dead Productions. Link: https://vimeo.com/5048966

- Richard D. Zanuck, David Brown (Productores) y Spielberg, S. (Director). (1975). Jaws [Película]. Estados Unidos: Zanuck/Brown Productions.

#TP N°4 #RESUMEN ACTUALIZADO

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gillysoldlady · 2 years

Text

Coming Back Home

How Hank Lozas wife returns to the clubhouse for a party after his loss. Her name will be revealed in the next oars of this . Thanks @withmyteeth for the comments and adding the little details to polish it up. More to come . 860 words right now 18+ character death , and family love , loss and heartache as well

You were sitting in your usual place near the fire ring at one of the club parties watching the flames pop when more wood was added on to the stack. The only difference is that he wasn’t around . You wandered over to a plastic tub that had beer in it and reached into the ice and pulled out a bottle of one that you liked. You wiped your hand on one of the legs of your jeans with the rip just below the left hip area. Then you popped it open when you were back in your spot and took a slow long swallow. You exhaled and then felt someone walk up and sit down beside you.

His hand touched your arm and you felt the cool metal of his rings and then the slight roughness of his palm near your elbow.

“ Didn’t think you would come tonight querida.” He spoke softly. Coco had a quieter side sometimes that only certain people saw that he chose to let in beneath the outward shell that he put in place for the club shit as they called it .

“ I was invited a few months ago before life changed. Besides this is still my family for better or worse.”

“ Hell yes it is .” His voice was soft as he sat there beside you watching the fire pop and crackle. You knew there was food around by the ton and whatever but for right now you just wanted beer and flame and men wearing leather kuttes walking around here and there .

You saw some of the other girlfriends and wives and reached up to play with the chain around your neck absently . The ring on it wasn’t anything fancy but he had given you the silver band some time ago after spotting it in a little store on a run and you had quietly made a commitment to each other . Only the two of you for the future. You stood up to walk around a little and then saw them . Creeper and Gilly . You inhaled for a moment softly as their eyes locked with yours. His best friends here and the ones he had told about you before the others. Both of them came over and gave you big hugs.

You had a faded Mayans shirt on with his name on the short sleeve.

“ Glad you came Y/N.”

“ I wanted to see everyone , it was time. I got a new job at the casino so I won’t be bartending here anymore. Bishop knows but I will still come around when I have some free time. I am also getting a pitbull puppy that I’ll need you to help me train Creep.”

He smiled. “ Done.”

“ Also the spare room needs some new flooring Gilly . I got some hardwood a few weeks ago.”

“ Next Saturday I’m there.” You patted his arm. “ Thank you.”

“ Did Nails make her usual fudge brownies?”

“ Yeah they are on the table with the other dessert stuff. EZ made his tequila and lime wings for you,”

You smiled. “ Well then I need to go make a plate so he’s not disappointed with some of Taza’s chips and salsa.”

:readmore:

You walked around the yard then looking at various food items with a plate in your hand to be filled. As usual if you went hungry at one of these things it was your own damn fault . You found EZ’s platter of wings and helped yourself to some with his sauce on them and then a small pile of Taza’s chips and salsa. You walked over to one of the benches and saw an empty spot near Nails and Angel. Her pregnancy was beginning to show now. She turned when she saw you and then stood up to give you a hug,

“ How are you feeling Stephanie?”

“ Pretty good, I still get tired sometimes and lately I have been wanting ice cream and Oreos. Angel is being wonderful.”

“ That’s good.” “ Any names yet?”

“ I was thinking Pilar for a girl , Angel is thinking of boy names.”

“ Well have fun with that .”

You munched a chip with your favorite pineapple salsa on it. Taza always made extra jars for you to keep.

Then you saw the other Reyes brother walking over with a cold beer and his own plate of food.

He sat down on your other side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“ So you made it then reina?”

“ Yes I wouldn’t miss your wings Ezekiel.”, you said with a smile.

“ They are damn good if I do say so myself.”

You pulled out your phone then and opened it . There was a picture of a brown pitbull puppy with some white on its chest .

“ I’m going to have a new member of the house of my own in another month. Creeper is going to help me train him.”

“ Good looking pup.”

“ His name is Tank.”

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