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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

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was your favorite ; bucky barnes x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,152 words

summary — in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

warnings —fluff?? angst?? ex to lovers, sexual innuendo (just one) cursing i think, sad!insecure!bucky

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n — it too has been long since i got to write for bucky???? anyway i’d love to hear feedback :D also if you choose to follow me please have your age/age range stated in your bio..

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

Buck! Have you seen where my cardigan is?” Y/N was bent down over the dryer as she was ruffling through the pile of clothes she placed on the machine to dry but was too lazy to get it out and fold them. The super soldier being addressed to lifted his head from reading the newspaper to cast a worried glance on the woman, “I don’t know; I just did my laundry and I don’t think any of your clothes got mixed up with mine.”

With a huff she got up from her kneeling position, making her hit her head into the top of the machine, then walked away from their laundry room, groaning and rubbing the part of her head that hit the machine; joining his presence in the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water she pouted as she thought of where her sweater was. “Why are you looking for the cardigan anyway? And which one is it?”

Biting her bottom lip, she avoided eye contact with his blue eyes as she stammered out, “You know, it was the one you gave me.” Placing the paper down on the breakfast bar, he leaned closer and pouted at her, “I’m hurt, doll; I knew we broke up but I never thought you were petty enough to throw away my gifts.”

Squinting her eyes at him with a mocking pout, “Ha ha, you know it’s that I don’t treasure your gifts, Buck.” Feeling left out from the whole conversation, Alpine jumped up on the countertops and snuggled herself to Y/N’s stomach; letting her fingers scratch the white fur of the needy cat, “Al, can you go tell your dad how exaggerated he’s being?”

Scoffing, he snatched Alpine from his ex girlfriend's arms and covered his cat’s whole face with his metal hand as if shielding her from evil, “Don’t you dare play favorites! Not with my child who was mine first before she was yours.”

“Let’s be honest Buck, she always cuddles up to my side every time we watch a movie,” Y/N jabbed at him before moving to get her bag, slinging it on her shoulder. Bucky’s blue eyes followed her form from when she picked up her purse in the living room and was about to speak until the sound of someone knocking on their door cut them both off. “I’ll get it,” She placed a hand on his pec and tapped it, “I was leaving anyway.”

The super soldier was thankful that she quickly removed her palm from his chest so she wouldn’t hear how fast his chest was beating; despite having broken up a few months ago, he still gets flustered under her touch. “Hey Steve, how are you?” The Captain hugged her as he entered their apartment, “I’m good; you going somewhere?”

Nodding, she moved out of their apartment and waved the two super soldiers goodbye, “I am! Meeting up with some friends today; bye you two!” When she left the flat, Steve smirked at Bucky, “I got to say two more months of you two living together or not getting back together and I’m gonna lose this bet I have with Sam.”

Expertly, Steve dodged the crumpled up facial tissue Bucky threw at him as he scowled, “Why are you here anyway, punk?” Alpine jumped off Bucky’s arms and settled herself on her bed by the television as Bucky began cleaning up his mug and bowl. “Well jerk, I wanted to come over and talk about the mission.”

After placing all the utensils in the sink, Bucky looked at his best friend with a scowl, “What mission? We both don’t go anymore and just train the recruits.” Loving how riled up his best friend was being, the former captain chuckled loudly as he held his hands up since he got caught, “Okay you caught me. I was just bored at the compound and wanted to swing by.”

A soapy hand pointed to the door as the brunette said, “Well you swung by and said hi; now leave.” Planting his bum firm on one of the bar stools instead of leaving, Steve shot a serious glance on his best friend, “I will after I get the truth out of you.”

Childishly, the metal hand sprayed some water on the blonde who yelled out in surprise upon feeling his face dampen with water, “Real mature, Buck!”

“Says the guy who visited my home because he was bored and decided to play investigator on me!”

Laughing at his friend’s antics and frustrated tone, Steve sighed, “Come on, pal, be honest with yourself this time; why is it you and Y/N still live together even after breaking up?” After moving to place the set of cutleries to dry, Bucky was wiping his flesh hand with a towel as he looked at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. When he was met however with a mixture of worry and stern glance, the former Winter Soldier sighed as he relaxed his brows and he planted his palms on the granite top, “Well it’s beneficial for the both of us.”

“How is it beneficial? You guys are ex with benefits?”

“Idiot! Not like that,” Bucky quickly clarified, “Economically benefit, with inflation and capitalism increasing the cost of living, it helps us save big on rent.” Steve had his mouth hung agape in disbelief at the bullshit his best friend was selling on him. “Economically benefit? You both can afford a high luxury penthouse with both your salaries alone,” His arms opened wide as he referred to their current flat, “And you chose to live in this compact two bedroom apartment following your breakup? You’re not fooling me, pal.”

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and handing one to Steve after he opened both, Bucky gulped down the grainy beverage he sighed out loud as he confessed, “Maybe part of me hopes we both can get back together,” He had to shoot Steve a look when the blonde squealed excitedly at his confession, “But we both just somewhat talked about how much of a hassle it is if we both moved out and during that time we just signed a new lease so it made sense at the time.”

“I didn’t need to learn the last part, you could have just said you wished to get back together and that would have made me happy,” Steve explained before drinking down almost half of the bottle. Rolling his eyes, Bucky walked to the living room and settled himself on the couch — Alpine too followed him and settled herself on his lap, her distinct way of seeking attention — as he stroked her fur and replied, “Well good thing I didn’t really ask for what you wanted, no? Hold on, what are you really here for, by the way?”

Taking the loveseat that was adjacent from where Bucky was sitting, Steve plopped down as he grabbed the remote off their coffee table and turned the television on, “Did you forget that I was coming over to watch the game?”

“And you couldn’t watch it on your own at your living quarter which is bigger and even has the latest television model?”

Steve threw his head back in laughter at his friend’s remark, “Well I could; but the thing is if I didn’t you would probably be grinching your life away,” He tipped his bottle to Alpine who was sprawled over his lap as his metal fingers were delicately scratching her belly, “By the looks of it, you’ve already achieved step one of being a grinch.”

His flesh hand grabbed for one of the throw pillows that Y/N bought first when they moved into this apartment and successfully struck his friend’s head, “Apologize to Alpine this instant!”

A scoff plus an offended look was Steve’s reaction before turning his head back to the game, “Dick! You knew I was kidding! Is this how you are with Y/N, hm? No wonder she broke up with you.”

It was a sensitive topic that Bucky never fully disclosed with any of the friends; somehow he felt that what happened between the two of them should stay with them. And there were many instances where Bucky wanted to tell someone what happened just so he knew how to reconcile with her — but somehow there was always a reason that prevented him from doing so.

“Punk, how would you go about asking your ex to get back together?” His question had the former Captain America smiling; even though his entire face was focused on the game on the screen, the pending conversation had his attention far more than the actual sport. “Well I don’t know, it would depend on how I broke up with that ex.”

Bucky knew what he was doing — he was fishing for more information regarding how things went down. And maybe he does actually have a suggestion. Without going into much detail, he answered, “The breakup seemed mutual and beneficial at first but as time went on it seems to not be the case anymore.”

“What kind of riddle is that, Shakespeare?!”

Somewhat pleased with his confused state, he chuckled, “That’s all the details you’re going to get about my breakup with Y/N,” Part of Bucky was offended with how his Steve let out a disappointed grunt but continued on, “Right now, what’s more important is I get back with her.”

It had been almost an hour and yet the only sounds that could be heard were the announcers detailing the game and the cheers coming from the stadium as the two centenarians thought about how to go about Bucky’s current dilemma. Until Steve broke the silence as he placed his empty beer bottle by the leg of the coffee table, “Why not just be honest and tell her you want to get back with her?”

“It’s not that easy,” Came his quick response; too quick, Steve suspected. Turning slightly to face him, he saw how Alpine now had Bucky’s attention as he baited his metal finger to the feline who was trying her best to bite on it, “It won’t be that easy, at least I think it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up,” He confessed quietly as he pursed his lips as he recalled how that night went.

“Bubba, did you happen to get the chocolate I asked to buy?” She asked after ruffling through all their cabinets twice, pouting as she failed to see the sweet she has been craving for. He was cleaning the litter box that was in their bathroom so his voice was faint but she heard it loud and clear, “I forgot to, bub; sorry ‘bout that!”

With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and instead grabbed a glass of water before walking to the dining table, “It’s okay! I’ll just get some tomorrow or some other time.”

As he was washing his hands, he caught a faint glance of her disappointed frown on the mirror. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the other times wherein he saw her frown due to something he’s done. There were far too many instances that came into mind; Bucky didn’t like that at all.

Despite just drying off his hands with a hand towel, he could feel his flesh hand dampen with sweat as he approached her on the dining table and sit at the chair opposite from where she was — something that she noticed, tearing her eyes away from her laptop, making her feel that something was wrong, “You okay, Buck?”

“I think we need to break up,” Came his immediate answer as he stared at her eyes that showed sadness and grief. “What?” Was all that she could choke out as she pushed her laptop to the side so she could direct his attention to him fully.

“I think we need to break up,” He repeated, his voice sounded stronger and more determined than when he said it earlier; but it was just a front for his insecurities and doubts, “It’s something that we both saw coming, but we’re in denial of its approach.”

Tears were now freely falling out of her eyes as she struggled to get out a coherent response, “But Bucky, we can work it out. What is it? Where did I go wrong?” She was to add some more questions but she was stopped by her hiccups.

Both hands grasped hers and rubbed her knuckles soothingly to calm her down, “I’m sorry Y/N, but this is just for the best for the both of us. It’s better we part our ways now rather than later when my ivy has fully engulfed your brick walls that you have put up.”

Snatching her hands from his hold, she crossed her arms, “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Buck. tell me the real reason why you want us to split.” Gone was her earlier tone of sorrow and was now replaced with shaky strength.

When he just looked at her blankly silently, Y/N just bit her lip as she grabbed for her laptop as she scrolled for a certain email; and when she found it, she showed the screen to her now ex boyfriend, “Guess it was a wrong time to sign for a year-long lease huh?”

“We can still live together for the time being,” His immediate answer surprised the two of them and he decided to cover it up by explaining, “We don’t want to pay an additional fee for infringing the contract. Plus that saves us a whole lot of money for when we move out of here.”

Her mind was foggy with sadness which prevented her from thinking logically so she found herself nodding, “Okay, that makes sense.” She took her laptop from his look and began to search for a new bed frame and mattress. “I’ll move to the spare bedroom and get my things later on.”

Following her drying of tears, she now had a determined pout on her face as she began to scout new items for her bedroom, Bucky came to realize the weight of what he had just done. At the expense of her broken and devastated state, he spared his insecurities and doubts. But he didn’t feel even an ounce of relief, instead he just felt miserable seeing her become so detached from him; it’s your fault, you idiot, he scolded himself.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna lay down for a while,” She merely nodded when he stood from the his seat and grabbed Alpine that was on his playing with his toes; as he laid his back on the soft mattress were they both spent time and created some of their best memories, he couldn’t help cuddle the feline closer to him as he now looked back on those memories wistfully, “Looks like you’re gonna be my cuddle buddy from now on, Al.”

“Idiot!” Steve yelled after hearing the story and throwing the pillow back to Bucky with the cushion that was thrown to him earlier, “Let’s unpack what you did wrong here; one, you broke up with her because of your insecurities instead of working on it yourself or with her.”

Bucky had a deep scowl on his face and was about to rebut until Steve held a hand up to let him know he was not yet done listing things, “Two, you didn’t even really give her the option on whether she wanted to break up or what. And lastly, you decided to still live together despite splitting under the guise of not paying more due to infringing the lease and moving out, but you guys have two months left before you have to renew or end your contract! What the hell’s your plan after?”

When Steve said it like that, it did look even worse than it initially was. The former assassin could only groan out loud as he removed his hands from stroking Al’s whie fur and instead covered his face in shame, “I know! I was dumb, and still am! I just want Y/N back, okay?”

Steve silently chuckled as he took in his friend’s whine and Y/N’s stunned look as she had just arrived from going out. Noticing the lack of white fur ball on his lap, he removed his hands from shielding his face as he looked at Steve, and was puzzled when the blonde was smirking but did not have the cat.

“Where?” The question died on his throat as he heard her soft mewl and looked to his right to see Y/N cuddling Alpine in her arms, “Hi, I just got home.” The blank expression she had made it difficult for the two super soldiers to read her; Steve however knew that the two needed privacy in order to talk.

“Well I’m heading out,” The former Captain America stood up and patted his best friend’s shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and good luck, “See you both soon.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead goodbye and left the former lovers.”

“Do you want to talk about what I just heard you say or do you want me to forget about it, Buck?”

Being with her for nearly three years he knew that once her interest was piqued, it would be difficult for her to lose her interest in it as she would do anything to feed her curiosity. “What would you rather do?”

This was new, for the previous times they had confrontation he had decided for her; and to be able to choose for herself — and possibly for the both of them. “I’d like to talk about it; if it’s fine with you of course.”

He gestured for her to take the seat beside her — which she gladly took after placing her bag on the dining table and carrying Alpine with her. “I heard you saying you wanted me back — is there any truth to that?”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded a mixture of confident and desperate; but he didn’t care as he just wanted her back, “I want you back and it was a mistake on my part to let you go.”

“But why did you let me go?”

“Because I was an insecure, self-doubting coward. Do you remember the day when I broke up with you?” She nodded her head as she scoffed, “Obviously, I do.” Her sass had him chuckling, lightening up the mood a little. “Well that day, I saw the look of disappointment on your face when I failed to get you chocolate. I thought that if I can mess this small thing up, what more when it comes to more important things — like an anniversary, a mortgage payment, important events, and things like that.”

Her hands reached out for his and gently kissed the knuckles to calm him down as he was now breathing heavily as he continued to open up to her, “I always knew deep down in me that you deserved to be with someone as great as you; and believe me everyday I tried to be that person. But slowly I saw not only how I wasn’t living up to be the person you deserve, but somehow I just wasn’t making you happy any more.”

Despite letting out what he had been bottling up, Bucky felt both heavier and lighter; lighter because now he had told her the real reason as to why they fell out and what has been haunting his mind for months now. But the fact that she now had a say on what goes on between them made him even more anxious compared to how he would be when going on dangerous missions.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this battle alone, bubba,” Her statement coupled with her use of their pet name for each other had his heart twisting in a good way, “I wished you had reached out to me so that we both could work through this.”

“You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or disgusted with me?”

She shook her head as she once again placed a loving kiss on his knuckles, “Why would I do so? You were dealing with anxieties and doubts, I can’t exactly blame you for those can I?” He shrugged his shoulders as he avoided looking her in the eyes, “But still,” Came his weak reply.

Clicking her tongue, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest so she could cuddle and comfort him as they were somewhat laying down on the couch, “Next time you got something going in your head, you talk to me, okay?”

He nodded against her chest and he couldn’t hold back the soft whine of happiness when she kissed his forehead, “I meant what I said, that I want you back.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” She stiffened against his hold; Bucky stood up from where laid comfortably and took her with him, looking her straight in the eye with passion, “It is, bubba. I swear.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” She replied weakly and avoided looking him in the eye, “Maybe this is just your way of easing your guilt and making amends with your past talking. You don’t have to lie, not to me.”

“It’s not, I promise,” He placed his hands on her waist, grabbing her to situate her on his lap, “I love you and I never stopped, nor will I ever. You are someone I can never get sick of — I will always want to be with you, no matter if we do something fun and exciting or something mundane and domestic. I want all of you and want to share my life with you.”

“But what happens when you get those thoughts again? Will you leave me hanging again?”

Hating how small and meek her voice was, he shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose, “I won’t. Like you said, I’ll work on it alone and with you. I love you, bubba.” She could see no sign of lies or deceit in his eyes and loved what she was hearing — he was a man of his word and knew that he wouldn’t boldly claim such a thing if he had no plans of following through with it.

“I can give you time to think about it if you’d like,” The proposition left his tongue as she suddenly kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even more closer. He smiled into the kiss as he rubbed her back soothingly, missing the heat that radiated off her skin.

“No time needed to think about it, bub,” She breathed out after pulling away from the kiss, her lips still against his, “I want you back too.”

“I hope you’d still want me back even after my final confession.”

She pulled away from him completely so she could take in his nervous smirk, “What final confession?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he disclosed, “I took the cardigan from the dryer.” She laughed at his silly confession before asking, “Why’d you do it, bubba? It smelt like you and I dressed it up on one of my pillows because I missed you.”

Slapping her hand to his pec, she pretended to be upset before laying her head on his chest, “Well I hope it made your lonely nights better! I had an important reason to wear that today.”

“Oh? And what could that be, missy?” He tickled her sides to get her to speak; after a fit full of laughters she did, “Well I was going out with Rachel and she decided to bring along her friend in hopes of setting me up with them.” By wearing the cardigan, Y/N knew that the person Rachel invited over would be less persistent to pursue since the words “James Buchanan Barnes’ property” were sewn on a patch on the clothing article — a gift Bucky gave her when they passed the one year mark of their relationship.

“So you were cheating on me!” He jokingly accused her to which she pinched his ears as she reminded him, “Excuse you! I was being set up with someone before we got back together — it’s not cheating you know!”

He too laughed at their whole debacle before he stroked her cheek with the flesh hand saying, “I missed you so much, bubba.” She was about to share the same sentiments before they got interrupted by a needy cat who placed herself in between Bucky and Y/N.

“I think Al missed being in the middle of our cuddle sessions too, bubba,” She noted as the cat purred when she and Bucky were scratching the space in between her ears.

With a large grin on his face, he tickled Alpine as he kissed Y/N fervently on the lips, “Look Al, we’re one, happy, and complete family again.”

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dzaneena · 3 years

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2020 Recap, Onwards 2021!

New year always makes us think of how our previous year has been. It’s been a heck of a ride and I think it would be sort of a good way to remind ourselves of the hardships, lessons learned, and growth there’s been in the past year. Here’s how mine turned out. January

Oh, new year, new hope. I thought this would be the year I could make it mine. Get the things I’ve always wanted and spoil myself with every little thing I could not have when I was younger. Job is going well, financially stable and able, everything was fine. This month, I’ve purchased my first Macbook. Yes, apparently I’ve been sucked up into the apple ecosystem and now I want to experience all of it if I can. I did and I’m happy about this. It’s been a dream for someone who always had to save each meal into two so I could have it for my next meal just so I can save money.

February

Oh, the month of love! Yes, yes. I had the chance to travel to Thailand, being the temporary adopted child of a friend’s family. I was thrilled to be there and experience this one-of-a-kind experience. At this time, the virus was not that rampant with everything and there were no restrictions for travel. We thought everything was fine and would be fine.

March

A week after arriving from our trip to Thailand, I got a text from one of my closest friends asking if I would like to spend a weekend in Vietnam with her. Well, of course I did! At this time, finances were a-ok! I could afford it. Plus, the food there was really good at a low price! We didn’t spend much on this trip. We just hung out and took photos here and there. We arrived one day before the city announced General Community Quarantine. We were lucky to arrive at that exact day or we would have been stranded in another country for God knows how long. :( Work was feeling the effects of the pandemic already. 50% of our workmates were laid off. This was a sad, sad time. I couldn’t help but think of all our workmates who had to think of how to survive without work through this pandemic under the quarantine with little to no mobility.

April

Work has been... work. Everyone had to cut their hours and get back to basic pay. I am thankful to still have work but this took a big hit with my finances, of course. I live alone. Recently paying off the house I’ve invested in from last year.

This was also the month my friends practically forced me to play mobile games. Thank goodness they did! This was where all my rage/frustration was spent.

May

Remember that house I invested in? Yeah, that went down the drain, literally lol. I’ve been having problems with leaks and puddles of water coming through the walls of the house which caused a chain of serious issues, health-wise and safety-wise. This was a hazardous house to live in. I guess it’s true what they say about things being “too good to be true”. I’ve tried to settle this with the landlord but I didn’t get not one penny back, not even my deposit. I’ve been paying this for over a year. Much, much regrets. There’s a whole lot that happened during this time. I had to move out and decided to just cut further losses and be done with it. I couldn’t sleep at night for no idea how many weeks/months because of all that money I’ve invested that just vanished. I still feel a weird kind of sadness every time it rains. It always flooded in that house whenever it rained. So you can see how much I relate to that movie “Parasite”.

June

Lucky I have a house to still come home to. This was the previous house I lived in before purchasing that God-forsaken flooded house. I was adjusting and trying to make the best of what I could for the time being. I had a small renovation project as well.

July

Renovation project going well and it was my joy to see how clients were happy about it. This was also the first time I was seeing my mother since January and it was only for a few hours because she had to go back to our hometown within 24 hours or else she would have to be quarantined. Traveling was such a pain during this time. We can’t even go visit our hometown to see our family.

On the bright side, I got to try out a lot of food (all home-cooked, of course). And I got to learn to cook some Korean food as well. I was well into the k-drama world for this whole time.

August

Kittens were growing up well. My cat gave birth in May but a lot of things happened then. I had 3 cats pregnant almost at the same time. Needless to say, we had to castrate our lover boy cat, Brutus. Though he had one last go before we did this and got another round of our cats getting pregnant. I can’t even. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Had the opportunity to do a product photoshoot for a local ice cream business. It was an amazing experience and it’s cool to think that people actually believe in my photography skills if I had any. LOL.

September

My birth month. I found out that I wasn’t even worth one minute of people’s time to text me. LOL. Well, life goes on. (Insert BTS’ Life Goes On)

On the positive side, my boyfriend’s family decided to do a Korean dinner (Samgyeupsal, Kimchi Jjiggae, Tteokbokki) for my birthday. It was really sweet of them. 😭🥰 I couldn’t spend my birthday with any of my family but they spent it with me. I’m tearing up just writing this down hehehe thankful for this second family.

October

One of my closest friends was getting married. I kid you not, we were waiting for this day to happen ever since college. We travelled to the city where he was getting married with the Friendship Pause crew. (That’s a whole other story LOL) It was nice getting a nice moment down from all the crap we’ve been facing.

I was also able to get back to my hometown for my mother’s birthday. Despite all the travel restrictions, we managed to push through. My eldest brother and I are the only ones not living in our hometown.

November

Ahh, yes. The year is almost over but it still feels like we’re stuck in March. During the span of the year lately, I’ve been actively looking for a second job for extra income. And thankfully, because I’m such a “never give up, never surrender” kind of person, I’ve landed a few jobs project-based for this year. I’ve been a graphic designer, personal assistant, transcriptionist, food photographer, social media manager assistant, etc. I’ve also landed my latest job from a start-up company. It’s amazing how some people can see your grit and potential. I pray we all get to do what we want to do in life so it won’t be such a chore to do. My first (online) job is the very first job that I actually enjoy and everyday, I am really excited to get work done. Hoping that this company recovers from the economic hit of the pandemic fast.

December

Ahh, the last month for this challenging year. What could be in store for us? I think this pandemic has hit us physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically, and financially. It also makes you realize things. I realized that I’m no one’s go-to friend. I’m just that extra friend right there when you need me to be. Not a particular someone you call when something’s up. That’s okay, I guess. We can’t be everybody to...well, everybody! Haha!

I’ve been into tech lately and with all the gaming I was doing, I created a gaming page somewhere along in those past months. Streaming games was one of my stress relievers. Hopefully, if I can have a stable source of income, I’ll be able to do this full-time seeing that traveling is still out of the picture. All in all, this was such a shitty year. There are a lot of in-betweens that happened this year and I had to just highlight some things but basically, it’s just been so hard. I know I’m probably not the only one struggling and trying to survive on a daily basis. I am thankful that I have a job (3 actually, 4 if you count our online business on hiatus) and I am still able to put food into my stomach. But sometimes, we just need a good cry and some ice cream maybe.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! Thank you for actually caring to read my thoughts and random stuff I have in mind. We may not see each other but please know that I really appreciate your effort.

On a lighter note, I hope everyone will be happier this coming 2021. Stay safe!

#2020 2021 HNY happynewyear happynewyear2021

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awed-frog · 4 years

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Well that’s good for you. Working from home is making me want to kill myself. Losing all the things that kept me sane (being able to fucking leave my house), all the things I had to look forward to, is making me want to kill myself. I absolutely don’t get being so ... *happy* at the idea that none of it will come back, like a future of living in a box is ideal. But good for you.

Jesus, you know I didn’t mean it that way and please don’t throw around suicidal thoughts like that and above all don’t send someone a message like this unless you’re asking for help, because you don’t know what others have been through. It’s basic online (and offline) decency.

Plus, the thing is: many people absolutely hate their commute, which takes time, is messy and chaotic, and above all isn’t paid at all. I certainly don’t miss being stuck two hours a day on a smelly bus when I can do the same work from home and use those two hours in a better way. And as it turns out, this is what many people actually want - those who can afford a study, or can organize their work life around a kitchen table, seem very eager to do so. There’s nothing wrong with that sentiment, and it certainly isn’t an attack on you, personally. If you miss your place of work or your colleagues - I get that. It must be hard to live through such a sudden change. It’s been traumatic for everyone, but it will get better.

(In the meantime, you’re allowed to be fucking furious about all of this. I’m furious myself. I lost things as well. I get it.)

As for what I’m happy about - well, it’s not much. I’m not a psychopath, but I do believe it’s important to stay positive, and on the whole, I’m pretty overjoyed by the fact that a) we got this particular virus instead of something like the Black Plague that had a mortality rate of like 50% (hurray for silver linings) and also b) it may be different where you live, but here people reacted surprisingly well. No cannibals, no hoarders, no killing your neighbours for a sack of flour. Instead, all of a sudden there were networks of volunteers, people who were looking after the elderly, picking up groceries for those who couldn’t leave the house, offering free childcare...teachers who went above and beyond for their students’ education...it was kind of uplifting, especially because there was (is) little to be cheerful about. They’re always selling us this idea that human beings are inherently selfish assholes, ‘survival of the fittest’ and whatever other bullshit - in France, the government asked people how they wanted to organize life after the pandemic - about two million citizens took part in the process, and here is what they said:

Prioritize locally grown food and other products

A more sustainable agriculture

Less waste, more recycling

Local (European-based) production of essential items

Better schools

A Green New Deal

Sustainable cities

Green mobility

More value and better wages for essential workers

A longer lifetime for products.

More money for hospitals and healthcare professionals

A sustainable economic system

Better protections for biodiversity

More democracy and transparency in the political process.

So it turns out, this is what people actually want. Not gigantic malls, not a new iPhone model every two weeks, not infinite scrolling for junk on Amazon or Wish, not whatever other bullshit capitalism is selling. Nope. People want shorter working days, a more sustainable world and to be more involved in their democracies’ lives. And sure, we can be negative and tell ourselves that’s never happening, but hey - it just might. Why not. A lot of weird shit that was ‘never happening’ actually did.

I’m sorry you’re feeling so angry and frustrated and sad. It must suck. But for your own (mental) health, you need to find a way to snap out of it. There’s lots of resources online on how to do that - please look them up. And if you are feeling suicidal, please PLEASE reach out to someone - a helpline, a friend, a partner - anyone. I know from personal experience that people would rather listen to you than bury you.

#ask #suicide for ts #self-harm for ts #get better anon #this won't last forever okay?

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syms-things-5 · 4 years

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Clear The Area

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language. This has been quite cathartic in a way.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I have two chapters written and will post ‘Chapter Two’ at some point this weekend to get things moving. I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if there is something wildly incorrect here and I’ll change it. Still figuring out a few things and I expect this will be a slow burn but it’s exciting to finally get off my arse and…sit down and write.

CHAPTER ONE

Today was probably a 4 out of 10.

4.5 if she was feeling generous.

Sarah thought about the decisions she had made in the past decade that lead her right to this moment, this moment being cleaning neon-coloured vomit off her scrubs for the second time in the past hour.

“You would think people would have learned downing shots of Absinthe was not a great idea by the time they’d left their teens,” snickered Audrey before shooting her a sympathetic look and handing over another wipe. “I can’t believe how green it was. It looks like you got punked by the Marshmallow Man!”

“Thanks for that.” Sarah was scrubbing as hard as she could while internally questioning her decision to pursue Nursing all those years ago. Her History teacher once told her she could have “a decent stab” at becoming a Middle School teacher if she applied herself right. Right now, she could be knee-deep in teaching half-interested kids about the 27 Amendments without an ounce of sick in sight. Instead, she was baffled. “Fuck. It’s practically luminous…”

This must have been payback for pushing herself as a teenager. Being fostered in and out of care homes during your formative years could turn you one way or the other, and Sarah chose “the other”. She was sure the universe was telling her she should have stayed put and been happy with her lot in life, in her too-small town with no feasible job prospects, where everyone knew you and held that against you, instead of moving halfway across the country with next to no money to study at a University she couldn’t afford and would most likely be in debt to for the next twenty years. Now, however, she got to convince local drunks that climbing on to roofs was, in fact, not a great idea despite the bet they had made with their “friends”. On a good day, she got to help children pick out the colours for their plaster casts.

Or take today. Today, she got to lecture a group of young people about the trials and tribulations of playing “run the bus” with 60% proof. Every day was just a little bit different so as to keep things interesting. That, she reminded herself, was something she had to remain glad about.

She sighed and threw the last wipe in the bin. Taking a last look in the mirror, she turned to her friend for reassurance that she looked at least passable. She caught her frown before Audrey realised Sarah could see her and quickly gave her a thumbs up. She did love her Audrey which is why she decided to repay her kindness by forcing a hug on her as a thank you.

“Silver lining, though,” Audrey said, shoving her away, laughing in protest. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any in your hair.”

“Yeh bastards had a good aim at least.” Sarah dusted down her arms one last time to check for anything she might have missed and the two of them left the locker room. The place was now eerily quiet, thank god. Just run out the clock and they’d be home and dry in no time, figuratively speaking in Sarah’s case.

Audrey placed a comforting arm around her pal. “You want me to find some spare scrubs? I’m sure they’ll have some upstairs. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Nah it’s OK. I’ll be done in 20. Just gotta sign Mr. Richardson out from cubicle 5 then I’ll run home and shower.”

“OK, well, if you have to hang around, avoid triage because you-know-who is there and I don’t want you ruining your chances again.” Audrey pinched Sarah on her hip and headed back to her work.

You-know-who was Greg Anderson, an attractive 30-something medic from a hospital on the other side of town. He was up-and-coming in Paediatrics apparently and had been shadowing a Consultant for the past few weeks. He was 6ft plus with dark hair and brown eyes and his father was something big in Economics in MIT. He drove a Porsche and wore Louboutin’s on his rounds which had Audrey practically foaming at the mouth. Indeed, he hadn’t bypassed the attentions of the majority of females in the ER, as well as a few men and even a couple of patients but as always, Sarah was solely focussed on the job at hand to pay him any heed. Audrey thought she caught him staring at her the other week, though, and made it her mission to set them up. She took great pride in playing matchmaker for her friend given that she herself got locked down nine years earlier and “it’s a damn shame to let these skills go to waste.’ She had somehow also managed to get Shan and Lisa onside, too, however that had happened.

Greg was handsome, she’d agree with that, and definitely her type in the right light but something was a little too Republican for her liking. Plus, he was a Rangers’ fan and Sarah swore blind early on in her life that she couldn’t bring children up in that kind of hostile environment. Sarah briefly contemplated walking past triage with the lingering scent now clinging to her clothes but as Audrey kindly repeated to her at regular intervals during the days, Greg was her only realistic prospect right now and figured it was perhaps better to keep her options open, at least for the time being.

Mr. Richardson was gone pretty soon afterwards and, accepting defeat for another day, Sarah grabbed her bag and headed home.

There was definitely beer left in the fridge, she was sure of it. She’d bought a six-pack at the weekend and could only remember drinking two during the Bruins’ game, so…

“Oh yeh, you’re out of beer.”

Sarah turned around from the fridge to face a sheepish looking Chris holding the last frosted bottle in his hand, his ball cap low over his face attempting to hide the faint black circles under both his eyes. There was a 5 o’clock shadow forming now he wasn’t required to shave. As drained as she was, she briefly contemplated wrestling him to the ground for that last swig. He looked just as tired. She figured she could take him. At least he had the decency to look guilty about it.

“I’ll run out and get you some if you…Jesus! Why do you smell like a brewery?!” He practically recoiled holding his free hand to his nose.

Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass for some cold water instead. “Are you here to just annoy me or steal my beer as well?”

“Both now you ask but seriously, what have you been doing all day? You don’t usually smell this bad.” He joked.

“Oh, some kids took it in turns to throw up on me and I didn’t have any clean scrubs to change into.” She downed the water and went to fill the glass up again. God, she didn’t realise she was this dehydrated. Chris shot her a look of confusion. “It’s a long story. Is Shan around?” She shed herself of her scrub top and headed into her bedroom down the hallway, Chris casually following behind.

She had to pop out for something so I’m just handing here ‘til she gets back. You coming for dinner at Ma’s? She’s doing her famous lamb roast. Might wanna shower first, though.” He joked, playfully sticking his tongue out at her.

“God, I forgot how hilarious you are.” she overtly rolled her eyes at him. “No, I’m good. Just gonna head for an early night, I think.”

“OK, well, if you change your mind, we’re leaving in half an hour. You know she’ll make me drive back to get you otherwise.”

That was true. For as long as she’d known and lived with Shanna, Lisa had treated her like any other member of her family and Sarah had never fully grasped how much she had appreciated it, coming from where she did. Lisa knew Sarah’s folks weren’t as close by any more and compensated for this by inviting to every dinner night she held, every games night, school events, theatre events, and more besides. She spent Christmases with them, visited Disney with them, and had New Years with them on occasions she wasn’t working. Lisa even organised a surprise birthday get-together for her as well despite Shan’s protests that she wasn’t a birthday kind of person. Sarah had learned to stop feeling awkward or out of place soon after.

Once Shan told Lisa Sarah had wanted to start learning to play piano as a new year’s resolution, Lisa had insisted she could teach her whenever she had some spare time. There soon after followed afternoons of tea and gossip and not much playing of the piano but it felt comfortable and nice for the first time in a long time. Shan would make excuses so Sarah didn’t feel obligated to attend everything but in truth, she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to feel wanted.

Chris was lounging on her armchair with one leg over the armrest, messing on his phone. Sarah could count the number of times on one hand the nights he had spent in his own place since returning to Boston a fortnight ago. As true as it was that he rarely spoke about filming in any great detail, she could nevertheless tell he’d been left particularly drained by this particular experience and wasn’t looking forward to the reshoots scheduled for next month. There had been a rumour he’d started sleeping with his married co-star and she guessed Lisa had been mithering him about it hence him turning up on their doorstep last week. Other than one night back in his own bed, he had remained on their sofa ever since, clearly relishing in the familiar company.

“So what made those kids throw up?” Chris called out, still engrossed in his phone. A quick glance over his shoulder told her he’d been ignoring someone’s text messages.

By now Sarah was in her old yet comfy sweatpants and a Boston hoodie Shan had bought her as an anniversary present of her 5th year living there. “Um, Absinthe. The nasty kind.” She was gathering her washing together.

Chris whistled low through his teeth, a kind of “been there, done that”.

“Rookie mistake.“ he laughed to himself. He frowned at his phone before chucking it onto her bed and turned around in her chair to plant both feet on the carpet, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. He looked like he wanted to get something off his chest but was struggling to find the words. He was reluctant to drag Sarah into anything given how exhausted she looked. Despite their differences in careers, sometimes it felt like she was the only person he knew who could understand how long and tiresome the days could get. Then he would inevitably feel embarrassed he was out there only pretending to save lives when she was out there day after day actually living it for real in all of its bloody glory. And for a tiny fraction of his pay. He tried not to water than thought too much.

“I take it you know,” he asked quietly, still not looking up from her bedroom floor.

“Know what?”

“About Jenny?”

“Oh,” she paused for a brief second. He’d know straight away she was lying if she tried to play dumb. “I mean your mom might have mentioned something in passing,” she shrugged unconvincingly. He scoffed knowing she would have talk about nothing else since the rumours started gathering pace online. He knew he hadn’t done himself any favours by avoiding the conversation either but he simply couldn’t stand another lecture of disapproving look. Dinner tonight was to be his mea culpa.

Sarah was thankful when she heard the front door go and then the sound of Shan dropping her bags in the kitchen and heading towards Sarah’s room.

“I signed for this for you this morning while you were out.” she handed Sarah a brown envelope before turning to Chris with a hand on her hip, looking like she was scolding her 7-year old nephew. “Mom’s been trying to get hold of you all day. She wasn’t sure if she needed to lay an extra seat for you this evening. Sarah, she wanted me to make sure I couldn’t persuade you to come as well?” Sarah shook her head and held up her stained clothes and enjoyed Shan’s visible flinch.

“I’m not even going to ask.” She held her hands up and walked out. Chris rolled his eyes in mock imitation of Shan and Sarah smiled sympathetically, mouthing a “good luck” to him as he left trailing behind her.

Sarah was left looking down at the envelope in her hands. It looked very official; the kind you would receive if you’d been summoned to a court hearing or Jury Duty. She didn’t recognise the address or the stamp but recognised her home town almost straight away. It had been years since she’d been there. Why the hell were they dragging her back now?

#Chris Evans #Sarah Bernette #Chris Fic #Fan Fiction #Clear The Area #chris evans x original female character #Syms Writing

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childgong3 · 3 years

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Dealing With Neighbor Disagreements

Arbitration And Mediation Services

Content

Family Mediation In Leeds.

Chelmsford Quakes, Quake Meeting Residence

Nine Actions To Maximize Mediation At The Office.

Phone around to locate the very best rate, however keep in mind the most affordable could not be the very best. You don't require to go to mediation to aid you finish your connection. There are someexceptions when you don't need to go to the MIAM before going to court- for instance, if you've suffered residential abuse. If you go to a lawyer initially, they'll probably talk with you about whether making use of mediation first might assist. We use cookies to improve your experience of our website.You can discover even more or opt-out from some cookies. Our workplace mediation solutions solve facility and also challenging disagreements quickly, efficiently as well as with as little disruption as feasible.

How much do mediators charge per hour?

The average cost of a mediator is about $200 per hour with average prices ranging from $100 to $300 per hour in the US for 2020. Thumbtack says, “Some private mediators charge by the hour. Typical rates are $100–$300 an hour. Other mediators charge set full- and half-day rates.”

By following workplacemediations’s business mediation services norwich , we can see to it that things get off to the perfect begin, that everybody understands the procedure, and that everybody is collaborating towards that end goal that we're all seeking. As long as people are interacting well, assisting each other out, and pulling in the same direction, then the job gets done and everyone wins. Stay in touch with the most recent mediation and also ADR information as well as assuming by means of social networks, plus our routine article and also podcasts.

Family Mediation In Leeds.

Jan is the Chair of The College of Mediators and also in 2018 won Family Mediator of the Year at the National Mediation Honors. Legal Help is usually readily available to those that are on a low income or on specific benefits, such as Universal Debt. To see if you certify, total our free on-line Lawful Aid assessment form. If you make an effective Legal Help application, there will be on the house for your MIAM as well as mediation sessions. Along with this, it will additionally pay for the MIAM and very first mediation session with your ex-partner.

IronSource acquires ad measurement firm Soomla - VentureBeat

IronSource acquires ad measurement firm Soomla.

Posted: Mon, 11 Jan 2021 13:00:00 GMT [source]

Simply intended to thanks for navigating me and also 'A' through some really tough problems. Your participation has brought all of us to an area we couldn't have gotten to without your help.

Chelmsford Quakers, Quake Conference House

Out of these, the cookies that are classified as required are saved on your internet browser as they are essential for the working of standard functionalities of the internet site. Yet opting out of a few of these cookies might influence your browsing experience. The board members bring a wide range of experience to the firm, with directors' histories varying from organization to community service. She was previously the Supervisor of the Household Mediators Organization and also a Member of the Ministry of Justice Family Mediation Steering Group.

It's a great suggestion to speak with a lawyer prior to deciding on adjudication - they can inform you if it's best for you, and could be able to suggest a good local family members mediator. A simple adjudication case could cost ₤ 1,000, but you might end up paying far more - the specific amount depends where you live as well as the length of time it requires to get to an agreement.

9 Actions To Take Advantage Of Mediation At Work.

Family mediation is one more option if you intend to avoid of court. You should ask your solicitor to give you a composed price quote of how much your legal charges will be. If you're not yet ready to get a separation or finish your civil collaboration, they can tape-record your arrangements as a 'separation agreement' instead.

MV Mediation program takes on evictions - Martha's Vineyard Times

MV Mediation program takes on evictions.

Posted: Wed, 30 Dec 2020 08:00:00 GMT [source]

You'll each require to pay your lawyers' fees, which can be costly. Just how much you'll pay at the end depends on how much time it takes for you and your ex-partner to get to an arrangement. This is a written or online record of just how you as well as your ex-partner intend to care for your children.Find out more concerning making a parenting intend on the Kid and also Household Court Advisory and also Assistance Service internet site. Courts typically will not decide who a youngster lives or spends time with if they believe the moms and dads can arrange things out themselves. Your moderator will write a 'memorandum of recognizing' - this is a paper that shows what you have actually agreed. Consider what you wish to leave mediation prior to you begin. Mediation is more likely to be successful if you can spend the sessions concentrating on points you actually differ on.

I just wished to leave a message to state a Thanks to the lady on the front workdesk, I rated with a beautiful smile and a pleasant, type expert solution. We have our very own devoted mediation premises in a peaceful yet central area, with 3 mediation spaces, different waiting areas, a reception location with additional seats and also a back workplace. If you would choose us not to share this comments information with the moderator concerned, please tick this box. Little Claims Court Genie is a trading style of SV Legal Training Ltd|Our site only relates to the courts in England & Wales|Copyright 2020. If you intend to give yourself the most effective opportunity of doing well, download our best overview. It takes you through the procedure detailed as well as . There is nothing to stop the celebrations trying once more to reach regards to settlement between both of them before trial.

There is mediation available for claims outside the little cases track such as fast-track and also multi-track track insurance claims.

There are a a great deal of conciliators around, both independent and also mediation bodies.

This indicates that your separation, or separation, will certainly be a whole lot less difficult in regards to economic effects for your youngsters.

The National Mediation Helpline can help with such issues or the parties can instruct a private moderator.

You will find that with mediation there is a whole lot more money which is left over for the basics of life.

Meetings are exclusive and also at the conciliator's office or a neutral venue. We'll call you to review your client's demands as well as figure out whether an on the internet MIAM is right for them. After that, you can either schedule a conference on your client's part or we'll call them and also maintain you in the loop.

Our lawyers compose your contract into a splitting up contract which you authorize and witness. We can resolve your economic, residential property or parenting concerns agreeably, expense properly and also rather. Mediation is when an impartial individual - learnt managing challenging conversations between 2 opposing sides - imitate an umpire in a conflict. We can not respond, so if you need aid with a problem learn just how you can obtain recommendations from us. You can also locate a family members mediator online on the Institute of Family members Legislation Arbitrators web site.

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Jess operates in our head workplace as well as is responsible for our lawful bundles and also client relationships. Belinda runs our head office and guarantees you obtain a professional and also thoughtful service. Advise an independent lawyer to tell you what would be a likely end result at court on your instance.

Our group of expert and also skilled workplace arbitrators deal with all celebrations in a conflict to develop their underlying needs as well as interests, urge discussion and eventually, assist in a mutually appropriate resolution. When an organisation considers presenting a mediation programme, there are 3 means an employment legal representative's duty is likely to be valuable.The first is that no person is better put to encourage using mediation. Any type of specialist who has experience of common grievance and corrective treatments will certainly recognize exactly how binary the results often tend to be and the method which events often tend to become adversarial. If that was not enough, when litigation ensues, they observe closely the tension produced as well as are thoroughly associated with diverting supervisors from their key roles to prepare for hearings.

Can you bring evidence to mediation?

Although business mediation services is confidential, if you show evidence to the other party, there is nothing to stop them using this evidence if your matter later goes to court and they can find the evidence in another way.

Nevertheless, if terms can not be gotten to, a Court will certainly determine the matter at trial. It is likely nevertheless, that to reach a negotiation, both parties will need to compromise and make concessions. The mediator will concentrate on striking a bargain, instead of entering the information or trying to determine who is appropriate or wrong. Rather than allocating blame, he will aim to restore the connection if suitable. We then inspect back in with the events after 6 weeks to see exactly how points are going and to guarantee that everything is running efficiently. Every scenario is different though, and also one of the main factors we are so successful is that we are versatile in our method to mediation. Nevertheless, usually speaking, this overriding structure functions extremely well.

#mediation services eu #mediation services europe #workplace mediation eu #workplace mediation europe #business mediation services eu #business mediation services europe

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tacanderson · 3 years

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Super-Borg Chapter 1

My book, Super-Borg Dies, is out now. You can purchase it here or read the first chapter below. You can also sign up for my newsletter here.

Chapter One

“Stupid wannabe superhero,” a bulky man holding a metal pipe said, swinging it at Super-Borg, “why don’t you go home and read your comic-books?” Super-Borg had already disarmed the man of his gun but was surprised by the man’s resourcefulness when he pulled out a metal pipe.

Super-Borg ducked the wild swing and brought his clenched, reinforced glove up into the man’s jaw, shutting him up. He hated banter. He stood over the unconscious man, catching his breath and wiping rain away from his goggles. His black exoskeleton-enhanced, military-grade personal armor creaked when he bent over and zip-tied the man’s hands behind his back.

As he stood up, two bullets struck Super-Borg in the back. The carbon-fiber reinforced plates in his suit absorbed most of the blow, but it still hurt. He dove behind a garbage can as another shot fired; it didn’t provide much protection. He spotted the shooter standing fifty yards away, which placed Super-Borg directly between the shooter and the Space Needle. Super-Borg bolted from his cover, staying low to the ground.

Even in a crouch, his powered suit allowed him to cover half of the distance quickly. He straightened up and then, as more shots whizzed by, he jumped, letting his suit propel him eight feet into the air. At the peak of his jump he threw a disc, about the size of a hockey puck, at the gunman. The disc struck just above his eye, and he crumpled with a grunt.

Super-Borg landed and slid on the mud, crashing into a bush. He stood up, extricated himself from the bush and picked trash off his mud-caked suit. It wasn’t the most graceful landing, but it worked. Super-Borg sprinted over and zip-tied the man’s hands behind his back. “Let’s hope the cops find you before your friends do,” Super-Borg said to the unconscious man. “And hopefully the cops aren’t your friends.”

A bullet struck the tree next to him, and he ducked instinctively, jumping behind the tree. All this gunfire was bringing more unwanted attention. Yelling echoed through the vacant grounds around the Space Needle. What few lights that worked did little more than create small lighted cones of rain and mist. His disc was at the base of the tree but he didn’t bother to pick it up. He had lost so many that people were collecting them and reselling them online. Periodically he changed the design of the “SB” stamp he put on them, just to make the older discs collectible. People were funny. Even with all the chaos and economic instability, people still collected things.

The Space Needle, with its boarded-up gift shop and graffiti-covered cement supports, loomed ahead. The Neuro-syndicate was a gang specializing in the theft, production, and sale of neuro-enhancing drugs. Neuro enhancers were used by everyone: from corporate employees trying to stay sharp while they put in twelve-plus hour days, to professional gamers looking to get an edge in their next online tournament, or even school kids looking to pass their prep-school admissions tests. While it would be hypocritical for Super-Borg to object to people using neuro enhancers, the Neuro-syndicate killed people, and the stuff they cut their neuro enhancers with caused long-term brain damage and sometimes death. When neuro enhancers weren’t covered by a person’s corporate benefits plan, the black-market stuff was all most people could afford.

Super-Borg was there to stop the Neuro-syndicate from making a major sale, but he did not expect them to have this much armed support. The deal must be bigger than he thought.

“Super-cycle, deploy the drones and release smoke bombs between my location and the Space Needle.” Super-Borg used drones for several purposes. He was surprised more supers didn’t use them. But most supers weren’t rich. Super-Borg wasn’t Bruce Wayne rich, but he was rich enough, and after dropping out of med school he had earned a degree in engineering, so he could build most of his own equipment. He relied on drones to survey his surroundings and record his excursions. He used the recordings to make videos he released online to his followers, to watch for his own personal training, and he occasionally used them as evidence in court. Drones were also invaluable for providing a distraction. He could see the small flock of drones in the heads-up display built into his goggles. Soon dense smoke filled the park.

His super-suit featured large, modified high-tech goggles that provided a heads-up display and video link from his drones, an open-face reinforced motorcycle helmet, and a face mask covering his nose and mouth. The mask was wired to receive his voice commands, amplify and alter his voice, filter out all smoke and toxins, and supply extra oxygen when he was exerting himself like right now. Sensors in his suit adjusted oxygen levels as needed.

People yelled loudly, calling out to each other in the smoke, trying to get a handle on what was going on. An occasional shot rang out when someone saw — or thought they saw — something.

An alert on his display warned him that his heart rate was elevated. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. “Keep it together, SB.” Super-Borg took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. “Someone has to do something. This is what you do. This is who you are,” he said, repeating the oft-invoked mantra. He took a deep breath, “Up, up, and away,” he whispered, and sprinted for the Space Needle.

_____________________________________________

Who brings rocket launchers to a drug deal? Super-Borg thought, running to get clear of the falling Space Needle. Beams, bolts, and concrete built to survive a 9.1 earthquake began to scream as if in unbelief that they had finally failed. As he ran, Super-Borg was still looking up at the falling Space Needle. It was like a bad dream. He was trying to not run directly in the path of the falling mountain of architecture, but there seemed to be no escaping it. He tried to change direction and tripped — over what, he didn’t know — and fell sprawling into the mud. He cursed himself for not watching where he was going, scrambled to his feet — determined to watch where he was running — and kept his head down as he ran. He was so intent on running and watching where he was going, that he failed to see the furniture dropping out of the old top-floor restaurant. A chair slammed on the ground immediately in front of him. He didn’t have time to hurdle it, so he tried to kick it, but his foot got stuck in the armrest and he fell again. Debris and concrete rained down. He curled up into the fetal position as Seattle’s most iconic landmark buried him.

_____________________________________________

Trent was coughing on water and his head was throbbing, but he wasn’t awake enough to open his eyes.

“Trent? Trent, can you hear me?” His father’s voice sounded like it was coming from very far away. “Trent, I need you to wake up.” His head shook slightly, and water sloshed around the side of his face, like it was bobbing in the ocean.

Trent’s eyes snapped open, his head hurt, and he was still coughing.

“He’s awake,” his father said, sounding relieved. “I think he’s okay.” His father was looking at him, but he wasn’t talking to him.

“That’s great, Mr. Daeshaun,” a woman’s voice said from overhead. “Help is on its way, just hang in there.”

It came back to Trent then. Headlights swerving into their lane. His dad swearing. Tires screeching. The world spinning.

“Trent. Buddy. Can you hold your head up? I need to let go.” Trent realized that his head was being held up out of the water by his dad, who was turned around from the driver’s seat — one shaky arm holding Trent’s head up so he wouldn’t drown and one hand pushing against the steering wheel, giving him the leverage that he needed to reach Trent. Trent nodded and lifted his head up.

“Mr. Daeshaun, how are you doing? How are your legs?” the woman asked, with an intentionally calm voice — not emotionless or robotic, but not worried either, just appropriately concerned.

“I still can’t feel my legs. I’m feeling light-headed.” Trent’s dad glanced back at Trent and then added with the best smile that he could muster, “But I’m fine. I got my boy here with me, so everything will be okay.” Trent’s dad was a cop, so he knew how to lie convincingly.

Trent was twelve and knew when his dad was being a cop and when he was being a dad. Right now, Officer Daeshaun was in the driver’s seat, and everything would be okay. Trent knew when his dad put on his work persona in front of him: it was either because he needed immediate and unquestioning obedience, or when he needed to lie because whatever was going on in the world was out of his control and he couldn’t face his son with the truth. For the first month after his mother died, he lived with Officer Daeshaun and didn’t see his dad much.

Trent always thought he looked like a faded version of his dad. He had seen pictures of his dad as a kid and they looked so much alike, except Trent had his mother’s lighter Indian skin. His mother was beautiful, but he had always wished he had been darker like his dad. He spent a lot of time looking at his dad’s complexion and had learned what the subtle changes meant. He could tell when his dad blushed because his cheeks and ears turned a richer color of brown. When he was sick or light-headed, he looked like the chocolate Easter bunny Trent had forgotten about for almost a year that had developed a gray-tinted film over the surface. His dad looked like that now.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

Officer Daeshaun looked back and met Trent’s eyes, “We were in an accident. Help is on the way. It will be okay.”

“Dad, you’re shaking. You don’t look good.” His dad was shivering severely.

“Don’t look good? You calling me ugly?” The laugh that followed was weak — even weaker than the joke. Trent said nothing.

Trent’s dad sighed, “The wreck was pretty bad. We’re lucky to still be alive. My legs are trapped. I also think I lost a lot of blood.”

“That’s why you’re shaking so bad?”

“Probably a combination of shock and the adrenaline wearing off. But the blood loss isn’t helping.”

“Mr. Daeshaun,” the voice spoke from their car speakers, “the paramedics and the police are arriving now.” Trent could see the flashing lights and hear the vehicles pulling up. “I’m in contact with the officer in charge. I will leave the line open until you are both out of the vehicle.” Neither Trent nor his dad bothered to respond. They were both transfixed by the emergency vehicle lights.

“Mike?” They could hear footsteps and the sound of a belt full of equipment bouncing as the officer it was attached to ran toward them. “Mike?” A flashlight moved closer, breaking away from the emergency vehicles parked along the road, like a bright white scout sent out from the hive of flashier, colorful lights.

“Here. We’re here.” Trent’s dad called out. Tears filled Trent’s eyes and he wasn’t sure why, he tried uselessly to wipe them away with a wet hand.

Light filled the windshield and then came around to the driver’s window. The car had rolled into the lake, but they were near the shore where the water was shallow. Trent sat in the backseat, passenger side — his dad still preferred him to ride in the back so the airbags wouldn’t hurt him if they were ever in a wreck. Trent almost laughed as the tears ran down his face. The one time they were in a wreck, and the airbags failed to go off.

“Mike, thank God you’re alive.” It was his dad’s partner, Jose, and Trent knew he was crossing himself. His dad teased Jose about how much he crossed himself and uttered little prayers. Trent was glad Jose was praying for them.

“Jose, Trent’s in the back. Get him first.” The flashlight turned its stare on Trent and panned back and forth.

“Trent, you hurt?” Jose said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Trent, can you unbuckle yourself?”

“I think I can,” Trent said, reaching down until he found the buckle and unlatched it.

“Bring me a stretcher,” Jose yelled back toward the flashing lights. “Trent,” Jose said, in his soft, but still firm, everything’s going to be okay if you do what I say voice, “I’m going to pull you toward me and then out. Okay?”

Trent nodded and slid toward Jose. Large hands reached in and grabbed him. Trent began coughing again.

_____________________________________________

Super-Borg woke up coughing on dust and his whole body was in pain. His mask had come off, it was dark, and dust filled the air. He was trapped and concrete dust coated everything, forming a sticky paste as it mixed with the rainwater. His head hurt and his ribs screamed in pain when he coughed. “Broken rib, great.” The display on his goggles wasn’t working. There was a cold breeze and drops of rain splashed around him. His leg felt trapped, and he didn’t have much room to move, but he was thankful to be alive. Trying to lift the slab of 1960s concrete that trapped his leg proved impossible as there was no power from his suit, and without it he wasn’t strong enough.

A sharp pain in his knee pulsed like someone was stabbing it with an icepick in time with his heartbeat. The concrete rock kept him from bending his leg, but he moved his toes and then his foot. “I don’t think the leg’s broken, that’s good.” There was a large gash on the armor over his chest where a large piece of rubble had bounced off and broken his ribs. He was lucky to be alive.

He coughed again and forgot about the icepick in his knee as pain shot through his chest. He could feel his ribs shifting when he coughed. Between the dust and the broken rib, it was hard to breathe, and he felt light-headed.

“I can’t believe they dropped the Space Needle on me. What the hell?” His voice was rough and scratchy from dust and coughing, but talking to himself helped to keep him calm.

No power in his exoskeleton or in the goggles meant the suit was in sleep mode, out of power, or the impact had somehow shut everything down. It was also possible the suit was critically damaged, but he didn’t want to think about that. Opening the cover of the touchscreen on his arm, he poked at it a few times. Nothing happened. He coughed again and grimaced through the pain. The suit would need a hard reboot.

Lifting a panel built into the armor on his shoulder, he flipped open the small breaker box. Sliding the switch inside to the off position, he counted to three and then slid it back. The slow, electrical whining of his suit waking up filled his little cave. He lay back, exhausted but smiling.

Looking at the screen on his forearm, he could see his suit’s power was at 20 percent. There was also a problem with the right knee joint. All of his drones were still circling the area, collecting data. They reported that his immediate vicinity was clear — the Neuro-syndicate must have bolted. The police weren’t there yet, but an alert told him they were on the way. Super-Borg had no desire to talk to the police. They disliked supers, and Super-Borg was a vocal critic of the privatization of the police force. Whenever he had to deal with the police, they went out of their way to make things difficult for him. He still respected the badge, but he knew even his dad wouldn’t like what had become of the force. His best option was to try and get out of there quickly and quietly, and file his community marshals incident report later.

With the power restored to his goggles, he turned them to night-vision mode and located his mask. He braced himself, then used the power of his suit to lift the chunk of man-made rock off his leg. Even with the suit doing most of the heavy lifting, his ribs still screamed at him. The rock shifted and he stopped, catching his breath, trying not to cough.

Taking a slow breath, he repositioned his hands and lifted again. The concrete slowly shifted, causing a small avalanche of rubble to fall on his helmet.

He slid his leg out and slowly stood, leaning against the same rock that had been trying to crush him. There was a piece of rebar wedged into the knee joint of his suit. The rebar had cut a large gash in his leg. Blood dripped down his suit, mixing with the dirt and rainwater, but he thought how incredibly lucky he was that it had not skewered his knee. He grabbed the piece of metal and pulled it free, inhaling sharply as it dragged across the cut. The mechanized joint on his suit was useless, but he could still bend his knee.

It was only a few blocks to where he had parked his motorcycle. He hoped no video of him limping away from the scene would turn up online.

He made it to the super-cycle without any hassle. He called it a super-cycle, but it looked like any other motorcycle. That was the point. He pulled a large, black hoodie from the storage compartment under the seat and covered himself up. As he rode away, shame and embarrassment flushed his cheeks. This was bad. He would have to call his publicist.

_____________________________________________

Super-Borg Limps Away from Destroyed Space Needle

We are receiving reports that today’s collapse of Seattle’s iconic Space Needle happened during an altercation between the Neuro-syndicate and the community marshal known as Super-Borg. Amateur video of Super-Borg fleeing the aftermath of the fallen Space Needle has been posted online.

Today, Super-Borg has given more fuel to the fire for those who think the community marshals cause more harm than good when he was involved in an altercation that resulted in the collapse of the Space Needle. Losing the iconic Seattle structure has many residents calling for the disbanding of the community marshals. While some call them superheroes, others call them reckless vigilantes.

Fredrick Harman, the owner of a vegan hamburger truck called, Where’s the Beef, who lives in an apartment near the Space Needle, doesn’t see the purpose of the community marshals anymore. “They just run around playing superhero and doing more damage than they prevent. We lost the Space Needle today. Is it worth it?”

Deputy Veishea of the local community marshals’ office has continuously stated that because the police are now privately funded, their priorities don’t always align with those of the public.

The Space Needle is owned by the city and has been condemned for years, so there were no police assigned to the area, but they are looking into the use of banned weapons and explosives that reportedly brought it down.

From The Seattle Wire

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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THE COURAGE OF PROJECT

Then when you start a startup anywhere. That's why mice and rabbits are furry and elephants and hippos aren't.1 The very design of the average site in the late twentieth century. He got a 4x liquidation preference. Google, it's hard to get into grad school in math. Can we claim founders are better off as a result of this new trend. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference. But investing later should also mean they have fewer losers.

They make something moderately appealing and have decent initial growth.2 If you major in math it will be whatever the startup can get from the first one to write a paper for school, his mother would tell him: find a way to turn a billion dollar industry into a fifty million dollar industry, so much the better, if all fifty million go to you. The classic yuppie worked for a small organization. Before us, most companies in the startup funding business. The best way to get a big idea can take roost.3 4 or 5 million. This essay grew out of something I wrote for myself to figure out how to increase their load factors. But you can also apply some force by focusing the discussion: by asking what specific questions they need answered to make up their minds. This plan collapsed under its own weight.4 Startups happened because technology started to change so fast that big companies could no longer keep a lid on the smaller ones.

The only place your judgement makes a difference is in the industry.5 People who do great work, and it's a bad sign when you have a special word for that. One of the exhilarating things about coming back to Cambridge every spring is walking through the streets at dusk, when you can see into the houses. If you have steep revenue growth, say over 6x a year, no matter how many good startups approach him. Recently we managed to recruit her to help us run YC when she's not busy with architectural projects.6 This works better when a startup has 3 founders than 2, and better when the leader of the company in later rounds. I'm not saying you can get away with zero self-discipline.

We're not a replacement for don't give up. What you should not do is rebel. But while series A rounds from VCs. Someone who's scrappy manages to be both threatening and undignified at the same world everyone else does, but notice some odd detail that's compellingly mysterious.7 Even Tim O'Reilly was wearing a suit, a sight so alien I couldn't parse it at first. They can't tell how smart you are.8 The story about Web 2. Maybe one day the most important thing is to be learned from whatever book on it happens to be closest. This essay is derived from a keynote at FOWA in October 2007. They'll decide later if they want to raise.9

Sometimes it reached the point of economic sadism: site owners assumed that the more pain they caused the user, the more benefit it must be to them. It's cities that compete, not countries.10 Kids are curious, but the best founders are certainly capable of it. But investors are so fickle that you can fix for a lot of time on work that interests you, and don't just refuse to. But you have to be an insider.11 A key ingredient in many projects, almost a project on its own, is to step onto an orthogonal vector. So ironically the original description of the Web 2. Back when it cost a lot to like I've done a few things, like intro it to my friends at Foundry who were investors in Service Metrics and understand this model I am also talking to my friend Mark Pincus who had an idea like this a few years ago.12 0 seemed to mean was something about democracy. We didn't have enough saved to live on. There is another reason founders don't ask themselves whether they're default alive or default dead.13

So most investors prefer, if they wanted, raise series A rounds. They're unable to raise more money, and precisely when you'll have to switch to plan B if plan A isn't working. That doesn't mean the investor says yes to everyone. Miss out on what? It's so cheap to start web startups that orders of magnitudes more will be started. Investors evaluate startups the way customers evaluate products, not the way bosses evaluate employees. The bust was as much an overreaction as the boom.14 Startups are undergoing the same transformation that technology does when it becomes cheaper.15 Another way to fly low is to give them something for free that competitors charge for. After all, a Web 2.16 He bought a suit.

Instead you'll be compelled to seek growth in other ways. They all knew their work like a piano player knows the keys. But consulting is far from free money. They say they're going to get eliminated. What does it mean, exactly? If investors were perfect judges, the two would require exactly the same skills. And to be both good and novel, an idea probably has to seem bad to most people, or someone writes a particularly interesting article, it will show up there. The mere existence of prep schools is proof of that.17 So far the complete list of messages I've picked up from cities is: wealth, style, hipness, physical attractiveness wouldn't have been a total immersion. Don't just do what they tell you to do. But advancing technology has made web startups so cheap that you really can get a portrait of the normal distribution of most applicant pools, it matters least to judge accurately in precisely the cases where judgement has the most effect—you won't take rejection so personally. If raising money is hard.

There is no sharp line between the two types of startup ideas: those that grow organically out of your own life, and those that you decide, from afar, are going to get rarer. While some VCs have technical backgrounds, I don't know enough to say, but it happens surprisingly rarely.18 Most subjects are taught in such a boring way that it's only by discipline that you can never safely treat fundraising as more than a startup that seems like it's going to stop.19 It sounds obvious to say that you should worry? One reason startups prefer series A rounds? When I was in high school either. If you feel you've been misjudged, you can do. Google. Of course, someone has to take money from people who are young but smart and driven can make more by starting their own companies after college instead of getting jobs, that will change what happens in college.

Notes

Though they are themselves typical users. But it takes to get good grades in them to private schools that in three months, a valuation. Giving away the razor and making more per customer makes it easier to get them to stay in a time machine.

Apple's early history are from an angel investment from a mediocre VC.

In the beginning.

Plus ca change. But on the other.

And that is exactly the point of a stock is its future earnings, you now get to go behind the scenes role in IPOs, which allowed banks and savings and loans to buy it despite having no evidence it's for sale.

However, it will seem dumb in 100 years. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of blacklist.

Sofbot.

I write out loud can expose awkward parts.

I've become a so-called signalling risk.

Hint: the way they have because they couldn't afford a monitor.

And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because there was a new search engine is low. They have no connections, you'll find that with a wink, to take care of one's markets is ultimately just another way in which income is doled out by Mitch Kapor, is to raise money after Demo Day, there would be easy to discount, but I'm not against editing. As one very successful YC founder told me they like the one hand and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he tried to shift back. At three months we can't believe anyone would think twice before crossing him.

Progressive tax rates has a significant startup hub. He, like speculators, that alone could in principle 100,000 sestertii apiece for slaves learned in the early adopters you evolve the idea is crack. As we walked in, we love big juicy lumbar disc herniation as juicy except literally.

It's sometimes argued that we didn't, they thought at least accepted additions to the modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years, it was cooked up by the National Center for Education Statistics, about 28%. I've come to accept that investors don't like the bizarre consequences of this essay talks about programmers, but I know of no Jews moving there, and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful startups are competitive like running, not the original text would in itself deserving. This is not whether it's good enough at obscuring tokens for this type are also several you can't even claim, like play in a city with few other startups, because time seems to pass. Please do not try to avoid that.

This kind of people starting normal companies too. If Ron Conway had been raised religious and then using growth rate to manufacture a perfect growth curve, etc, and then a block or so.

But it is to trick admissions officers. I meant. The mere possibility of being harsh to founders. As he is at fault, since 95% of the class of 2007 came from such schools.

I started doing research for this purpose are still, as they are now. There was no more unlikely than it would be easier to say that it is dishonest of the next round, that suits took over during a critical point in the usual standards for truth. Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley.

It wouldn't cut their overall returns tenfold, because they wanted, so the best ideas, they mean statistical distribution. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.

A doctor friend warns that even this can give an inaccurate picture. At some point, when the problems you have no idea what's happening till they also influence one another directly through the window for years while they think they're just mentioning the possibility is that in Silicon Valley. I find hardest to get rich by creating wealth—wealth that, isn't it? Look at those goddamn fleas, they have less money, the big winners aren't all that matters, just as if you'd invested at a famous university who is highly regarded by his peers.

Compromising a server could cause such damage that ASPs that want to pound that message home. He, like arithmetic drills, instead of blacklist.

Thanks to Tim O'Reilly, Peter Norvig, and the guys at O'Reilly for inviting me to speak.

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yvaquietdays · 4 years

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Isolation Motivation

We’re three weeks into official lockdown, so I’m not going to patronise and assume nobody has seen these kind of posts on Instagram:

Well, you lack the basic empathic skills to make you a canny lad, Farrah.

I don’t know anyone who can speak fluent mandarin after a month in quarantine. I also don’t know anyone who can learn how to install a flush skirting board in their bathroom after three weeks of bashing their heads against the wall from trying to teach their own kids, either. When was the last time anyone started a business in only six weeks, whilst also realising their new boyfriend, who they’ve subsequently been trapped with, is in fact the most sinfully boring person who ever had the audacity to be born (isolation increases the use of hyperbole). Never mind this all happening in the midst of one of the worst economic health crises’ in recent history?!

Obviously, Farrah has started his particular side hustle as a mandarin-speaking joiner already. Good luck to him. All the best. Take care.

The fact is, the best of us are either on the front line, risking their lives to save others, or risking their lives getting us about on public transport, or teaching their kids geometry or some-shit, whilst also bouncing a baby in the palm of their hand and taking the dog for a walk six times a day. If you have time to focus on those goals, like learning a new language, or starting that book you promised yourself you’d write, or organising your photo albums, or finally learning the meaning of the off-side rule, then fill your boots. What does Farrah think we’re all doing? Sitting around with our thumbs up our arses, staring at the ceiling? It’s really the arrogance of those posts that really wind me up, as if they’re the font of all knowledge and inspiration and they’ve deigned to let us see what the good life looks like. Rude.

If you finally have the time to breathe, go for walks, cook, and just survive through this thing, then that is okay too. Christ, we all work hard enough, don’t we deserve to take this time off from the demands of such a fast paced modern world? It takes zero prisoners. We might not get another opportunity to put our feet up and not feel guilty about it, for the rest of our lives. The last time I felt like this, it was the summer holidays and I was fourteen. Most adults don’t see this kind of respite until they’re pensioners.

We’re all different. Some of us thrive on keeping ourselves busy, giving ourselves jobs and lining up support systems for those in need, or volunteering, or just getting that peeling garden set sanded and painted again, or cleaning out the fridge of old jars of spam and failed sourdough starters from three months ago. But some of us, who find the world and the competitive road we’re all herded on each and every day, overwhelming, and so it’s a welcome and quiet reprieve.

It’s time to slow down and breathe, and I repeat, not feel guilty about it.

Breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat.

Not to mention, all the while this is going on in our brain-boxes, hundreds of people are dying every day in the UK. It’s rising every day. This is a time unseen for most of us. The global anxiety level is high. I have to do what I can to establish a routine, make the most of this time I have, but check in with those numbers every day to remember, this isn’t a state paid holiday. I have personally always maintained that life is a balance, anyone reading my blog would agree. This time that has either been gifted or forced upon it (a bit of both, I’d concede), is no different.

It’s important to remember that the people who are trying to influence us aren’t helping us; they’re feeling better about themselves. Instagram, especially. The platform exists so we can reach out and find validation, some praise for being humans. That’s the basic psychology behind it. It’s not even the more grandiose aspects of the platform that personally irritate me. It’s the mundane. “I colour- coded and ordered my bookshelf!” Thank you for that picture. Well done. It’s a bookshelf. I’m happy that it’s colour coded, I really am, it is satisfying to see, but I don’t need to know about it. What you did was sit for an hour or so and colour code your books. That shit isn’t stuff we see in Oscar winning movies. Seeing it on Twitter or Instagram, though, makes me feel guilty that my own bookshelf is not colour coded. Even though I couldn’t give a tiny mouses mitten whether it is or not. I’m suddenly hyper aware that my bookshelf is disordered, and a wave of displaced anxiety arises. Should I order my bookshelf? Am I wasting time? Should my bookcase be disordered? Yes. It’s the way I like it. This is coming from a person who takes great pride and personal relief from tidying. I love tidying. I love ordering stuff, and I can’t relax after work until everything is in its place. But do you see me posting about it on instagram? No. Why? Because while I believe in those small, beautiful meditations, whether that’s colour-coding a bookshelf, making a coffee in the morning, writing in a journal; it’s personal. As soon as we start posting about those moments, we’re diluting the experience and it no longer has any resonance, because you’re doing it for someone else instead of yourself. Yes, we might get some gratification from it, but why does someone need to see that I cooked a beautiful meal for me to know, that, well... I cooked a beautiful meal? I have to be so careful to remember that someone else’s life and someone else’s grievances are not my own. This is the trouble with social media, in general. It’s a hive mind. Once you’re logged in, other people’s experiences becomes yours, thrust upon you, whether you wanted it or not. So you did one small workout this morning, feeling good, right? But that other slim, tanned, beautiful, make-upped person did two. Plus a run. With intervals. And a fruit smoothie afterwards. Christ, is anything we do good enough? The influencers who are posting from home about how to stay fit and keep the pounds off, they’re only wanting to feel better about themselves. It has nothing to do with you. If someone is lauding that shit all over you, and you’re quite happy wondering what kind of a potato you are, then unfollow, fren.

At the end of the day, if we come out of this a little bit fitter, or a few pounds heavier, it doth not matter a fuck. What’s important is that we come out of this thing alive.

While we can roll our eyes at these accounts, it’s also vital to know that a lot of people with the time to do all this stuff can probably afford to. Once you see it, it’s very hard not to notice how out of touch they can be. Personally, I have a safety net. I’m being looked after by my employers, I have some savings, my outgoings are small. So I’m trying to learn french. But others, aren’t so lucky. They’re either still working in a Co-op, or working from home, or have lost their jobs due to bad bosses (who will be named and shamed after this, I’m sure), and are too busy applying for universal credit to spend their spare minutes worrying whether they’ve learned a new skill or not. This is where I’m coming to my next point. If someone is capitalising on this, whether it’s selling weight loss shakes, reusable gloves or masks for a high profit, they’re not influencers or half way decent people. It’s one thing to get by, creating work where we can get it (I set up a Patreon), and we’re quite happy to take what comes from people who can afford it. But it’s quite another to profit from a disaster like this. I might be okay for a couple of months. But if this stretches on until 2021, I’m not sure where I’m going to be. So forgive me for not having time for holier-than-thou posts about how we ought to be spending this time isolating. I’m too busy regretting the time I’m missing with my friends, my family, sad that I can’t celebrate getting engaged (I got engaged) with my loved ones, sad for my friends who’ve had to cancel their own weddings, sad for friends who are losing work and money, whose businesses might crash. Lives. The economy is crashing, France is in recession, and here I’ve got Billy Big Balls telling me I’m not disciplined enough to achieve my goals.

There’s a lot going on right now. The most important thing, human contact, and the people we love, that’s what we need the most. Not a new bloody skill.

So breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat.

If that’s all you can do, do it. Just staying home, we’re saving lives. We might not know it. But we are.

Can you imagine coming out the other end of this, the world opening again, only to find our favourite pubs and coffee shops closing due to a financial crash, unemployment sky rocketing, not to mention the lines of funerals of people who have died, and Great Farrah of the Dick Swinging comes out of his bubble, speaking mandarin and profiting from his new business, telling us all that we wasted our time?

Jesus. Talk about tone-deaf.

Breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat.

#isolation #motivation #isolationmotivation #mentalhealthblog #mentalhealthblogger #anxiety #globalanxiety #dowhatyoucan #breathe

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newbestinvestmenttips · 4 years

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The Estate Bubble Fallacy

There has been a lot of talk lately around the "Real Estate Bubble", and a lot of folks are asking the thought: "When it is going to burst"? They are saying that the market cannot sustain this level of growth and appreciation much longer, not to mention I heat them say that it is inevitable that it have got to come crashing down soon. People are worried. They don't feel it can last; That whatever goes up, must come down. They have been conditioned to believe what they believe most likely out of your experience of the stock market bubble of 2000, and maybe the particular 1990's when the real estate market was hit hard in many substantial metropolitan areas across the country. Its human nature to feel that way. We all know the saying (or the 80's tune for you enormous hair folks), "Once Bitten, Twice Shy". Or why don't you consider, "All good things must come to an end. "? Its how you react to almost everything that affects our well being and common safety. Its a subconscious reaction at the gut place. Just like in the stock market, there are bulls and bears. Bulls are typically more optimistic about the market and expect it all go up, and bears are generally more pessimistic and expect to have the market to go down. They will always be there to provide free of charge advice and "expert consulting". Remember though, who you listen to will certainly have an effect on your decision making, and ultimately your own success. Well, I'm here to say that there is no properties bubble! There never was a real estate bubble. The a complete and utter fallacy. "How can I say which usually? " you ask. I can say that because the real estate market is in reality, a Wave. Its a cycle, and also we just happen to be riding the big swells, and / or the crest of this long, consistent, and fairly expected pattern. There is no doubt that real estate has been a rock solid investment decision for decades, and will continue to be for the foreseeable future and for many purposes that I would like to demonstrate here and now. Because you, as a realty investor, must be able to move forward with confidence when deciding which will projects and properties you want to buy and sell. That is the purpose of the website, to provide you timely information, strategies and begin enlarging help you succeed. But first, what is a bubble? In terms of economics and markets, the best definition is probably something along the lines of "an isolated or ephemeral situation or condition with bit support or substantiation from external conditions". The best occasion, and the one foremost in the minds of us all, will be stock market tech bubble of 1999 and 2000. Individuals rushed into the tech stocks and the stock market in general once we saw the. com millionaires being made. Y2K was basically a big factor in the tech bubble. People were buying fresh systems at a unprecedented rate in order to prepare for doomsday. Individuals were also buying consumable goods to stock up for the dreadful event that never came. So what was holding up, or perhaps supporting the "irrational exuberance" as Alan Greenspan characterized it? Well, we learned soon afterward, not much. It had been an isolated, temporary incident that had little guidance from the other conditions. It was indeed like a bubble which will burst. And it has had little support since then. Historically presenting, after the stock market crash of 1929 and 1987, the software took decades for the market to recover, although it did gradually recover. Just look at the Dow average and the S&P common for the last hundred years and see the pattern of recovery. You may be sure that a slow steady rise for stocks open for progress. Now back to real estate. Let me explain why that isn't a bubble. Real Estate is Cyclic Real estate has had the ups and downs over the years, but it is generally stable, with no drastic ups and downs per se. If you were to look at the cycles on a record you would see a clear pattern of gently rolling increases. This pattern is consistent across cities and countries all across the United states, although slightly varied in degree. Additionally , the cycles tend to favor the ups rather than the downs. It is not uncommon to see large cycles of appreciation and far smaller downward cycles. In other words, the current double-digit growth we all come to know and love in recent years will likely be pursued by downturns of single digit declines. Its like bringing two steps forward and one step back. In the giant picture you will still be further ahead than when you began. You may see slower growth, but it will still be growth. Realty is a Basic Necessity People need to live somewhere. They want a roof over their head and their your child's heads. Like food and clothing we must have a place. People don't need stocks or bonds. Therefore , you may be sure that whether the market is high or low in development, whether interest rates are up or down, people could be buying, renting, leasing, and selling homes. It is because perennial as the years. This Real Estate Wave Has Been Around A short time I don't know when you first realized we were in an " up " market in real estate, but it has been on a solid " up " trend for at least the last 3-4 years. It couldn't just happen yesterday. Of course like anything else, awareness of the average person is a bit latent, and dependent upon the media. They have only been lately that the media has really devoted to it and thrust it onto the front page. The particular old adage "Success breeds success" is also true. Typically the momentum will grow as other more traditional purchasers continue to jump on the band wagon and pour the money and resources into real estate investment. It tends to come up with a perpetual, self-feeding market that is ideal for more seasoned buyers. Real Estate is Local and Regional It is true the fact that even in today's real estate boom, there are areas in the United States which have been not enjoying the high rates of return who others are experiencing. California is a fantastic place to invest, therefore is Arizona and a host of other places. But the Corrosion Belt states are not as fortunate. Watch what happens for you to Florida home values after this horrendous hurricane season. The reason is , real estate is driven by the primary capitalistic force regarding Supply and Demand. Generally speaking, property values increase on areas where the job market is strong, and whereby there are more people moving into than away from. Of course you can get other factors to consider; including interest rates, availability of funding, climate, plus governmental policies. These are all important and you must be aware of their impacts to your strategy. However , it is true basically no that matter what the rates are or ways nice the climate is, people will continue to migrate where there are abundant job markets and affordable home. If you can stay just slightly ahead of that migration, you are likely to profit immensely. Real Estate Investing is Diverse You can commit to so many different ways, from foreclosures and fix and flips, to buy and hold and everything in between. Right now typically the commercial space is relatively soft. It will recover obviously, but people investing in single family homes are probably going through slightly better in returns. Vacancies are up as well as rents are down for commercial properties, but thank goodness, the forecast is for this sector to improve over the then few years.

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relationshipsandpolitics · 4 years

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On My Privilege

People don’t really understand what being “privileged” really means. From a certain perspective, you might think it’s a buzz word meant to de-legitimize any success you’ve ever had. From a different point of view, it might mean that your race and gender prevent you from attaining success. Both are oversimplifications of the word, though the latter perspective is way closer to the truth. The thing about us white guys is we have a hard time holding up a mirror to ourselves. We fear being told that maybe we aren’t as awesome as everyone in our lives tells us. Accepting our privilege is admitting we aren’t special, that we aren’t worthy of the material things we have.

But how does privilege manifest itself when you’re not an obvious embodiment of it? On the surface, I might not feel so privileged. I don’t have a million dollar a year job because of who my father was. I’m not Draco Malfoy. But if I think about how I got to the point I’m at, modest as it be, I must rectify with the fact that I was privileged in many ways. Let me demonstrate typical white middle class privilege.

My parents were state workers who were doing well enough by the time I was in high school to afford nice trips around the world. We didn’t take those trips and instead they dragged me antiquing in Maine with them, but technically we had the means. I went to a good public school from elementary through high school where the teachers cared and there were enough extra-curricular activities to keep me engaged. They even had programs that allowed working parents to drop off and pick up their kids after school hours. My parents showed an interest in my education and could afford to get me a tutor for chemistry, which was a waste of money because I was never understanding chemistry. If I didn’t do my homework, there were consequences because my parents had jobs that allowed them time to be around enough to care.

Those good jobs allowed them to pay for me to attend a great state university. Without needing to worry about working while attending school, I was able to focus on my studies and develop some decent friendships.

During my junior year I was able to get an internship because my mom knew someone who heard they were looking for interns for some Congressman. The internship was easy (I barely did anything substantial), but now I had some actual work experience on my resume. I also was a camp counselor for two summers, which gave me enough money for beer and weed. I lived rent free with my parents during breaks from college.

When I graduated and couldn’t find a job in politics, I stayed with my parents and waited tables. I had no experience in the restaurant industry when I applied, but I was a decent-looking white kid where the customers were almost all white. They hired me that day and I made good money at an easy job. Most of the black employees worked in the back of the house. At the time, I never questioned it.

Eventually I met my now-wife, who lived thirty minutes away in the city. I regularly gave up lucrative shifts to see her on the weekends because I didn’t have any bills. I used my tip money to pay the tolls, take her out to dinner occasionally, and overall be a good boyfriend. Eventually I landed a low-paying job with a politician in the city. I got that job because I had just the right amount of education and experience for the position. That do-nothing internship I got because my mom knew someone came in handy.

I commuted in for free with my parents, sleeping in the car while they drove. Eventually, because I had virtually no bills, I was able to afford an apartment in the city that was luckily vastly below market rate. Thanks rent control!

I worked hard and was good at my job, but I wasn’t some type A go getter. I just got lucky that my position allowed me to grow and develop new skills. Eventually, though, we left and moved across the country for an opportunity with my wife. Because we had some good savings, due in part because our families helped a lot with the wedding and we got more back in gifts, I had the luxury of being unemployed for several months before finding a job that paid quite well. At this job I didn’t feel like I worked hard, but I had developed enough connections through my previous experiences to have some success. In fact, my biggest achievement is largely due to knowing a Senator from our days at the Congressman’s office.

That brings me to the right now. My wife and I both have good salaries and can afford to invest in ourselves to further increase our value and overall enjoyment of life. When we have kids, we’ll be able to afford day care or for one of us to quit. They’ll grow up going to good public schools, getting into good colleges, and getting good jobs. If they want to go into acting or become a musician, we’ll probably financially support them as best we can.

This is all thanks to my privilege and the privilege of my parents. My privilege wasn’t solely the result of my race, gender or economic status, but of all three, plus a good helping of luck. If my parents were poorer, I would have been in a crappier school system with less resources to help me succeed. I would’ve needed a job much earlier and that would’ve cut into my time at school. I would have to take student loans to pay for college, and perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to afford the low salary at the politician’s office. I may have never been able to meet my wife, let alone give up weekend shifts and still afford the bridge tolls to see her. My privilege is why we are married today.

Of course, others are more privileged than me. The rich trust fund kid probably got to spend less effort to go to a better university and land a nicer position out of college. The big movie star had famous parents that opened doors for them, and now has so much free time and money to vacation in Monaco.

But this all misses the point. There will always be structural unfairness built into our systems that benefit people of certain demographics over others. And those structural biases generally hurt minorities, women and other historically-oppressed groups more than white men. Having privilege means having a wider margin of error for life. If I got fired for coming in late to the restaurant, I still had a roof over my head and food in my belly. A poor person doesn’t have that margin for error. They can still achieve the same success as me, but they can’t make nearly as many mistakes as I could.

What aggrieved white people don’t understand is they are not being asked to give it all back or shout from the rooftops that they don’t deserve any of their success. As someone who benefited from privilege his whole life, it’s not about giving all my money away or publicly flagellating myself for having it easier. It’s about acknowledging my advantages and working to make things easier for others. It’s about supporting policies that level the playing field as much as possible. I never had to worry about having a place to go after school, so I support funding those types of programs in places where students do have that challenge. I never had to worry about making rent while juggling student loans, so I advocate for increased affordable housing and free college.

Recognizing your own privilege is about having empathy for others. Our successes and failures are both our own and society’s. We don’t need to go back and change our pasts, but we need to be better at changing other people’s futures.

#privilege #white privilege

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pixzie-writes · 5 years

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The Fallen - Prologue

Title: The Fallen - Prologue

Summary: I was just minding my own business, trying to complete my projects when something caught my attention. Apparently someone has details concerning my parents? I went out to investigate when my night turned into quite a hell fest. Maybe it is one. By the way, who is this guy? Why is he wearing all black?

Relationship: V (Devil May Cry) / F!Reader

Warning: Explicit language

Word Count: 1874

A/N: There’s not a lot of V fan fiction works out here so I thought I’d try my hand at writing a few. Forgive me, but when I saw DMC5 trailers, I kinda fell in love with V’s character. So, here it is! I welcome every feedback so I can continue to improve my writing language!

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

I couldn’t sleep a wink. No matter how hard I try, I just couldn’t. The rain pattering against the window usually helps me trigger the melatonin in my brain. I had the aromatherapy on with the lavender essential oil. I’ve tried everything from the melatonin pills to tiring myself out physically. Well, there are a few other things I could have tried, but I rather use it as a last resort. One of the many nights of suffering from insomnia, I wouldn’t want to wish it on my worse enemies… yet.

I turned to look at my clock, reading at 3:48 AM. Growing frustrated, I finally gave up and threw open my covers, shivering a little from the sudden movement from the blankets. Grabbing the black leggings off my chair, I quickly slipped it on and slipped on my socks. I shuffled around the room in the dark until I finally turned on the lamps that sat at my desk, causing me to strain my eyes until I finally adjusted to it. Rubbing my eyes and opening the laptop, I yawned as I waited for the laptop to turn on. If I couldn’t sleep, might as well continue working on my projects. Maybe I should get coffee started first. As I log in, waiting for a few more minutes for the laptop to finish loading up I decided to go ahead and make my coffee, going through the narrow hallway of my old apartment, into the living room and then finally to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room.

It’s small enough, perfect size to me, apartment that is affordable enough for me considering that my budget. The paint off the wall is being chipped and torn off a bit, but I didn’t care enough to complain about it to try to get it repainted by the landlord. A few things could use a bit of a fixing such as the half-bathroom down the hall near the kitchen could have its toilet fixed. I don’t need two working toilets, though. As long as I have a roof over my head, working shower, working toilet, clothes, and food in my belly, I’m perfectly satisfied. Student loans are quite a lot to handle and I need the extra money I could earn to get it paid off. I’ll probably never be able to pay it off, considering the economic situation everyone is having. The rich being too greedy with their money isn’t a good outlook to the outsiders.

I grabbed the coffee filter out of the cabinet, fished one out of the bag and turned to the pantry closet to grab my favorite brand of coffee. Poured enough for 8 cups of coffee into the filter. It is going to be a long night and I need all the caffeine I could get. Maybe I’ll get a crash from all that coffee and I’ll finally savor any sleep I could get even if I pass out in the middle of class. I grab the pot when I finished putting the filter inside, pouring the water inside to finish getting the pot ready to brew. I turned on the power and sat on the counter, waiting patiently as I stare at the window, watching the rain patter against it.

I heard my laptop made a notification noise, remembering that I made my e-mail program to open automatically when I start it up. Curious, I decided to check it out while the coffee pot finishes up. I pull up my chair, opening up the e-mail as I sat down. The e-mail read:

Sender: Anonymous

Subject: URGENT

Please meet me at the park near you. It concerns your parents.

I read it slowly again, trying to understand the message, and hovered my cursor over the sender to see if they used a legit e-mail or a false one. It was a bunch of jumbled letters as if someone smashed the keyboard and the service they are using to send it doesn’t seem to exist. I wasn’t sure if this is a legit e-mail or an attempt to kidnap me. As far to my knowledge, my real parents passed away from a deadly accident and I got adopted later on. I didn’t remember much of my real one, as I was just a toddler when all that happened. Cliché of a story, I know. Now this person claims to have knowledge of my parents? When I got old enough to want to know more of my parents, there were very little details of them and no extended family exists from either side. It’s almost as if no one wants me to find out the truth of my real parents, but I decided to drop it before it gave me even more of a headache. Still, I want to know more of my parents even if it just info on the whereabouts of my extended family. It couldn’t hurt to check it out. But before I decide to get dressed, I should have my cup of coffee first.

I walk out to the park in my hoodie and jeans, completed with some combat boots. Simple yet comfortable outfit does the job for me. I’m not too worried about my appearance anyways. I had my umbrella out, plus the hoodie covering my head. No one is out and about in the park. After all, it is late in the middle of the night and it’s rain out. I decided to walk towards the playground, trying to keep an eye out on anything or anyone suspicious or out of the ordinary. It’s starting to get cold, which thankfully I had my hoodie on for. A dark figure starts to step out of the shadow, startling me. I have my biggest key ready in between my knuckles in case I need to defend myself. A man with black hair that reaches his shoulders, stares back at me. He is wearing a long black coat and what seems to be a vest underneath that. Black pants with black sandals. Everything black. His pale skin is covered in tattoos as well.

Breaking the silence, I attempted to confront him about the e-mail that I received earlier; “Uh you’re the one that sent me that e-mail, right?” I asked, stammering over my words a little, obviously nervous. The man simply nodded, still not saying a word. I look around the surrounding area, seeing if there might be anyone or anything else hiding in the shadows like he was. Attempting to get a word out of him, I try to a stern voice, “Why the secrecy? Were you watching me?”

“Not you. Them.” He finally answers, motioning his head towards something behind me. Gulping, I slowly turn around, gripping my keys hard that it started to hurt. A bunch of strange creatures seemed to have materialized behind me when I wasn’t looking. I could feel my heart start to pound inside me, wanting to scream but nothing would come out. What were they and why are they here? Were they hunting something? Someone? Were they hunting me? One of them starts to jump towards me. I try to shield myself with my arms, shutting my eyes tightly, begging to myself to wake up. Maybe I did fall asleep and I just don’t think this is a dream. Next thing I heard, I heard a roar from sounded like a panther or something. I opened my eyes, almost afraid to open them up. I could see a panther-like creature attacking the creatures with… blades? I walked backwards, trying to get away from the proximity of the battle. I turned and tried to run for my apartment when I got cut off by another one of those creatures. A griffon started to attack it before it could swipe its claws at me. I crouch down, burying my head into my knees, basically trying to make myself as small as possible.

A few more roars and screeches were heard, bodies being dropped, and what was actually minutes felt like hours went by. Noises stopped and now all I am hearing are footsteps, approaching me slowly. The footsteps stopped and I slowly start to look around, seeing there’s nothing. Not a single body dead on the ground. I start to get confused, murmuring to myself, “Wh-what?” I stand up slowly; turn around to see the same strange man looking at me with his cane out this time. I slowly back up until I’m against a tree and held out my keys, trying to use it as a weapon to stab him with, “Stay back!” He scoffed and shrugged, “ I just got rid of all those Nobodies for you and you think I’M the threat?”

“I-I don’t know. This is… What? Nobodies? For all I know, it could be that you summoned them.”

“That’s fair. But it doesn’t also make sense for me to try to get rid of them just to save you. They want you for something. Or maybe someone really wants you dead.”

“Who would want me dead? What about my parents?”

“Hmm, I don’t know and I think your real parents are connected to whatever the shit is going on with you.”

He starts to walk away; his creatures start to follow behind him. I wanted to know more. He couldn’t just tell me all this and expect me to drop it. I put away my keys, suddenly calling out after him, “Wait!” He pauses, his head start to look over his shoulders, waiting for me to speak. Trying to find the words, I finally decided to settle for thanking him, “Thank you for saving my life. I… I don’t know who my real parents are and there’s very little of details of them and my extended family. You’re the first to probably know any real details of them.” He waited patiently, not saying anything back. He’s quite the silent type. I continued, “Let me come with you.”

“No,” he said immediately, start to walk away again. Determined, I walk up quickly to catch up to him and grabbed his shoulders to try to make him face me. He stared at me, his eyebrows furrowing, as he does not like to be touched or grabbed like that it seems.

“I’m coming with you whether you like it or not. You say they’re after me. They’re going to keep coming after me unless I’m safe with you.”

He stayed silent for a few minutes, contemplating something, thinking deeply to himself. He sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and finally looked at me. “Fine,” he said, sighing in the defeat. I smile, start to turn towards my apartment when he continued, “You don’t have time to pack a bag. We need to go now.”

“Wait where are we going.”

“Someone who could help us.”

I followed behind him for quite a while, my feet growing tired. My eyes start to strain themselves a bit when we finally came to a stop. I looked up to him, his eyes glued on to something. I followed the direction of what he was staring at, coming down to a small building with a bright neon sign. Devil May Cry.

#v #devil may cry #dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #v (devil may cry)#v (dmc)#v x reader #v (devil may cry) x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic series

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acuppellarp · 6 years

Photo

Welcome to A Cup-pella, Ally! We’re excited to have you and Dani Harper in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Ally/she/her Age: 27 Timezone: EST Ships: Dani/chemistry, Dani/happiness, Dani/love Anti-Ships: Dani/forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Danielle “Dani” Harper Face Claim: Demi Lovato Age/Birthday: January 10, 1990, 28 Occupation: Musician, barista at A Cup-pella, member of the Pamela Lansbury Personality: Chill, Passionate, Independent, free spirited, loyal Hometown: Miami, FL Bio: Conservative would be the way to describe Dani’s childhood growing up. Her father was Irish American while her mother was Mexican, and they both placed a high importance on religion growing up. When Dani was little none of it really bothered her. She went to a Catholic school in Little Havana, embraced the hispanic culture that was at every turn, and was happy to dress up in the frilly dresses her Mama and abuela would buy for her. Her family was the center of her universe, and Sundays at her abuela’s house were the highlight of her week.

When she start fourth grade, her school started auditioning girls for the church choir. At first Dani was nervous because she had never sang for anyone other than her dad, but after weeks of persistence from the nuns at her school she gave in. Her voice blew people away which only made her family thrilled. Not only had their daughter found a hobby she was so interested in, but it was one that was closely connected to the church. She had to attend every mass which took up most of her weekends. That was fine though since not many nine and ten year olds had grand plans anyway.

Dani stayed the course until high school which was when things began to get a little murky. Her parents couldn’t afford to send her to a private Catholic school anymore when she got older, so she went to the public high school Coral Gables. Dani would never agree with her parents’ outlandish accusations of the school tainting her or teaching her the devil’s beliefs. It was simply just a more well rounded experience. Her school had people from all types of ethnicities, cultures, beliefs, and economic backgrounds which allowed her to pop the naive bubble her parents kept her in for so long. From the outside looking in she could see how it looked like she was going down a path that led to trouble when she got older, but back then, all she cared about was learning music. The friends that she made taught her how to play the guitar and read music that weren’t just hymns praising the Lord. Her parents at first didn’t mind the new music. They thought the addition of the guitar was wonderful as long as she also learned how to play music from her Mexican heritage which she was happy to do. Her thirst for knowledge when it came to music was limitless. Any genre, culture, or sound she could get her hands on to absorb she was interested in.

The problems didn’t start until her junior year in high school when Izzy walked into her life. Isabella was a beautiful girl who played the drums and was a part of the band Dani and her friends decided to try. For months Danielle went through hell because the feelings she was having toward the other girl wasn’t normal. Half the time she felt like a bipolar patient because there were days she wanted to spend as much time with the drummer as possible, and then others where she couldn’t get away far enough. The smallest of touches would cause her to jump, and all she would receive in return from Izzy was a smile. The smile annoyed her most of all because it always seemed like the other girl knew a secret Dani didn’t. Of course, Dani wouldn’t find out just what her friend knew until nearly a year later. When she was a sophomore they were playing at a party when Isabella got drunk. As Danielle was taking care of her because she couldn’t for the life of her leave her with all the boys that were practically drooling at the mouth, her friend did the unthinkable and kissed her. However, what was even more unfathomable was how Dani didn’t push her away. In that moment that one drunk, slightly sloppy kiss was better than the ones she had shared with her previous long term boyfriend. That kiss led to sober kisses and trying to be careful even though there was no such thing when someone had a mother who was like a blood hound. When Dani’s mother caught them kissing goodbye the day of their graduation outside of the house, the older woman went ballistic. Within minutes her whole family was called and everyone was fighting more than Danielle had ever seen. Blame was being thrown everywhere along with ideas for possible “cures,” but Dani wanted nothing of it. Her parents had told her point blank that they wouldn’t accept her how she was, so she left.

That night wasn’t one that Danielle liked to talk about. The moment she got the tattoo of birds on her forearm symbolizing that she was free she let go of that negativity as much as she could and got on with her life. Eventually she hopped a Greyhound to New York City. She definitely wouldn’t recommend that from Florida to anyone because it was long as shit, but it was cheap. Now, eight years later Dani was doing pretty good. She had a job with a boss who was a little nutty but loved her employees like her own kids. Plus, it helped her pay her part of the rent and bills, so she was happy. Her roommate was one of her best friends and band mates, and she got to practice music whenever she has free time. To most it wouldn’t be a lot, but Dani never needed much. As long as she had her guitar, her voice, and a place to lay her head at night, she was happy.

Pets: None

EXTRA INFO

Twitter name/twitter URL/description:

Five latest tweets:

@fyeahdaniharps: I pat myself on the back every day for moving to a city with good cafe con leche. 🙌#hispanicproblems #crack @ fyeahdaniharps: Can someone tell me how Tequila can always make me feel attacked by my own culture the morning after a good time? #hangoverstruggle @fyeahdaniharps: I seriously need to stop being amazed by Trader Joe’s stuff and just accept all of their food is awesome. #unexpectedcheddarcheese @fyeahdaniharps: Just finished another sick rehearsal with @PamelaLansbury, and let me tell you this weekend is going to rock! 🤘 @fyeahdaniharps: Whenever I’ve got the blues, the sunrise always knows how to wash it all away. #earlymorningreflections

#accepted

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simkjrs · 7 years

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Hi please PLEASE talk to me abt the socioeconomic state of japan in bnh verse I am SO interested to hear ur thoughts? I'm a poli theory major and let me tell u im a SLUT for fic that deal w the political/social repercussions of fictional happenings

sure thing!

disclaimer: i only just graduated high school so i’m pulling all of this out of my ass one semester of macroeconomics i took in senior year. feel free to add onto or correct any of this

edit: if anyone wants to use this for reference when writing boku no hero japan, feel free! i’d appreciate any credit, but it’s not necessary.

what really got me thinking about the socioeconomic state of boku no hero japan was probably the difference between orudera junior high (bakugou and izuku’s school) vs. yuuei, both of which are in the same city, musutafu. orudera junior high gives off the feeling of a school that’s a bit run down; not terrible enough that it obstructs the kids’ education, but enough that you think the school probably can’t afford to keep it in good repair.

here’s a screenshot of bakugou and izuku’s classroom:

and then here’s izuku’s desk, which has details indicating that it’s in slight disrepair:

if you go back through the chapters and look at the setting at yuuei, it’s spic-n-span. just super clean and well-kept. it’s an entire world of difference… so already there is this huge disparity between the junior high school in izuku’s neighborhood, and yuuei, which is a 40 minute subway ride away (chapter 3).

makes sense that yuuei would be so nice and expensive if it’s the most prestigious hero academy in the country, right? but there’s more details too, like this brief exchange between bakugou & iida right at the very beginning:

bakugou’s resentful comment about iida being an “elite” really only makes sense to me in the context of economic disparity. let’s infer that soumei junior high is better funded, better equipped, better everything in general. of course bakugou will resent iida for that, especially coming from the more ill-maintained orudera junior high. the difference in their economic status is already apparent.

this isn’t even going into the difference between yaoyorozu’s incredibly rich status vs the rest of the class vs uraraka, who has decided to become a hero because she wants the financial security, and who also lives in an apartment by herself and skips meals to save on money. so even within the class itself there’s a huuuge difference in economic status.

you could just think of it as the individual circumstances of the characters, but i think it’s more of a systematic problem – see, again, the difference in infrastructure quality between the different schools (the public school is not doing so great but yuuei is doing fantastic). maybe the city is poor, or maybe all of its funds go towards repairing the constant property damage from villain attacks, or maybe there’s just some areas they don’t care to maintain. either way: just by traversing different parts of the city you’ll probably see big differences in how well the neighborhoods are kept.

and now, for a different question: if this is the golden age of peace, why are there still so many villain fights?

looking at chapter one (the first villain we see is a guy who stole a purse and then tried to fight back when he was caught) and chapter 115 (villain activity increases sharply after all might’s retirement), i feel like… these attacks are driven by financial need. look at this:

a group of adults gathered to commit crime… just to steal a register from a convenience store. that’s such a small sum of money! but they were so elated to get just that amount. it seems like the kind of thing that would happen if you were strapped for money, right?

and then the villain from chapter 1: why would he fight so hard just because he got caught stealing a purse? he stopped the trains, for pete’s sake. all i can think is that a) he needed the money he’d be able to get by selling the purse, or b) he knew he wouldn’t be able to afford the fines, and that’s why he fought.

maybe i’m reading too much into this, but based off these crimes, plus the other details provided above, i really feel like there’s a growing problem in boku no hero japan where there’s an increasing disparity in wealth.

another thing to consider: in the golden age of peace, you’d have to be pretty stupid, pretty reckless, or pretty desperate to commit a crime where heroes frequent. (or you’re a black market dealer and/or evil.) if you’ve got an increasing number of people who are poor, who are dropping from the middle class to under the poverty line, or who have no upwards economic mobility, then you’ve got plenty of people desperate enough to try some petty crime for the sake of just a bit more cash for rent this month. that would be enough to explain the frequent villain fights that heroes get into – which are common enough that people will stop by and watch the show on their way to work. (chapter 1)

this is really just a theory… but what could you use to explain why there’s a growing number of people struggling to make ends meet?

here’s some factoids about japan (this article is from 2016):

its real wages were falling, and as such, had weak domestic consumption; people buying less & saving more, or people just not having the money to spend in the first place, resulting in less money circulating in the economy and causing the economy to slow down. efforts to stimulate wage growth in 2015 did not make it down to the workers

there was an increasing number of people with non-regular jobs, part time jobs, etc. as opposed to full time jobs, so they couldn’t get the financial security of a full time job (source)

one in six people in 2014 were living in relative poverty. this rate is higher among single mothers and among middle aged men without families, i believe.

japan was like, 39th of 41 developed countries in terms of child poverty (the higher the number, the worse it is). something like that

this is despite japan having a high labor participation rate and a low unemployment rate, and also a low violent crime rate

basing boku no hero japan off of actual real world japan’s current economic problems: we could surmise that, in boku no hero japan, although nominal wages are rising, real wages are falling; infrastructure spending is poor and disorganized, geared towards repairing villain-inflicted property damage and not enough towards everything else; and people are finding difficulty holding onto jobs (as seen with uraraka’s parents) and are forced into low-paying, part-time work, and may find themselves struggling with debt.

oh, and here’s a quote from the guardian (jan 2017): “experts say programmes to help needy children are underfunded and held back by bureaucratic inefficiency and political apathy.”

so it’d actually be quite viable for boku no hero japan to be doing quite badly, economically, and to be struggling with wealth inequality and other super fun things like that.

boku no hero japan is also like centuries in the future, one where villainy is commonplace, so it’s not a surprise that people’s response to struggling to make ends meet would be “well, i have a pretty good quirk. if i’m lucky, i think i’ll be able to steal some cash, and i’m desperate enough to do it, too.” SO, my personal guess, is that this is a biiiig portion of the crimes that heroes fight.

i mean, it doesn’t really make sense for villains to do so much… villain-ing… when there’s footage almost every single week of the heroes taking down yet ANOTHER criminal. why do they keep coming out of the woodwork? why’s there still enough criminals to keep all the heroes in business? ‘cause they’re desperate and need the money, probably. which is understandable. so even if you eliminate a villain, you haven’t addressed the economic problems that drove them to become a villain in the first place; hence, there’s always someone else rising up to take their place.

on that note, let’s take a closer look at the hero industry!

in chapter 1, horikoshi gives us a brief history of heroics. quirks emerged, the government wasn’t sure what to do to combat quirk-related crime, heroes emerged, and heroes eventually became sanctioned by the law. and when that happened:

so that’s pretty cool! seems like heroes aren’t specifically a government institution, but they are affiliated with & rewarded by it. makes sense, since heroes have to work closely with law enforcement on some matters, anyways. heroes =/= police only because heroes are specifically there to combat quirk-related crime.

but times have changed since then, as shown in the latest manga chapter:

“it’s all about entertainment and approval ratings and whatnot.”

we know from the stain arc that heroes are still paid by the government:

‘given my status’ – in other words: his hero ranking? popularity? how respected he is as a hero? hmmm.

uraraka’s mentor that arc explains that heroes are sort of “paid on commission” by the number of crimes they can resolve, but said commissions usually get sent their way by the police:

but to get your name out there (both to the police and to the public), and to become higher ranking in the popularity polls, you need to cultivate a public image, too. get yourself some attention.

so to cultivate a public image, one thing that heroes can do is to conduct a fight in a public, open space where anyone can see. apparently this happens often enough that izuku would actually regularly run into one of these fights on his way to/from school, and would stay to take notes and learn from them. villain attacks are ALSO frequent enough that apparently all might keeps arriving at yuuei late because he stops to help out:

in other words, villain attacks and fights are a regular, almost quotidian experience. more on that in a sec. for now, just think about how the heroes benefit from public fights: they get to show off, and their fights are broadcasted, and they can get a boost in their rankings. fighting against a villain, they don’t just have a motive to do their job and save people; they have a motive to grab the spotlight and show off. popularity boost! we actually see this happen in chapter one, when mount lady leaps into kamui woods’ fight and defeats a villain in one kick.

so, as a citizen, you may be grateful to the heroes for saving people – but you might resent them for turning these situations into a spectacle for showing off. incidents sometimes turn into competitions between heroes. if you take that a step further, you might think some of the heroes are only helping because they want to look good. and hey, that’s not the kind of person you’d want to entrust your life to, right?

because heroics is now partially driven by entertainment and image, heroes are all forming their separate hero agencies to try and differentiate themselves. for example, this list:

while they work together to fight crime, they have to battle for popularity and attention… they probably even have to vie for commissions/crime cases from the police. they all need to make themselves stronger, cooler, & a better choice than the other hero agencies. it’s something of a conflict of interest. you can imagine sometimes that gets in the way of cooperation (i.e. endeavor’s forever grudge against all might. y’all should read the illegals spin off.)

and if you’re battling for popularity and attention… it would also make sense for you to center your hero office somewhere with lots of crime, and lots of people to see you fighting crime. right? urban centers would provide plenty of both. what about slums, and the underground, and the outskirts, then? these are places that news reporters and cameras can’t reach easily – and possibly might not want to travel to at all. these are also places where passersby and onlookers might run away instead of praising you. you won’t get a lot of return (in terms of publicity) by working here. so if you’re business-minded… you’re not going to conduct your hero investigations here.

i mean, yuuei even has a business department. heroics is a business. you make money off of this, and you have to sell your image to the police and the public. if you focus more attention on places that are profitable to you, then the other areas lose. there’s no way around that.

so poor neighborhoods, bad neighborhoods, camera- and television broadcasting-inaccessible places get the short end of the stick. the heroes don’t go here as often, because it’s not profitable. (well, the heroes probably come down here if they get a police commission. but where are they if a spontaneous crime happens, hm?) meanwhile you turn on the t.v. and you see like five heroes show up at one battle downtown, which is complete overkill. you’d feel pretty resentful, right? do the heroes think your area of residence isn’t worth protecting, just because it doesn’t get them as much attention? do the heroes think it’s okay to just ignore your area of residence? fuck that, right? heroes are supposed to serve the public, and you’re still part of the public too, right?

that’s gonna build up more resentment between bad neighborhoods & areas v.s. the areas that heroes frequent (often urban, downtown, lots of people to witness their good deeds). and it definitely builds up resentment towards heroes who aren’t so discreet about the money-making aspects of their businesses.

like: all might sells merchandise. okay, understandable. present mic has a radio show (which probably gets paid to run advertisements). okay, that’s pretty cool! but then you get things like this:

a hero using their public service, publicly paid hours… to shoot a commercial and make themselves a little bit of cash on the side. if you’re in one of those areas that heroes don’t frequent so often – wouldn’t you be pretty furious to find out that the person who’s supposed to be fighting crime in your neighborhood just made $500,000 by filming a commercial instead?

you’re going to turn on the television and see ads with pro heroes in them – pro heroes who used their public service hours to do something for their own profit. this isn’t to say that heroes can’t film commercials, or make money on the side. if they’re helping people, it’s great that they can make a living! but they’re making that living by pandering to the entertainment industry when they’re supposed to be… you know… helping people. even kendou (in the picture above) comments that it’s not very hero like. the next page, momo replies that this aspect of the hero business is ‘unavoidable.’ ads, entertainment – it’s all part of the hero industry now.

and they don’t feel that good about it.

if all this conjecture is true, then – as grateful as people are to the heroes – they might be quite critical of the hero industry itself, and the heroes that embody the worst parts of it. i’m not surprised that there are a whole bunch of people who feel “othered” by heroes, and by society as a whole.

like… that’s no excuse to be a villain. stop that. but it would certainly be a reason for people to dislike the hero industry. AND it would explain why it is that stain’s ideology resonated so deeply with other people.

AAAAND that’s basically the rundown of what i think the socioeconomic state of boku no hero japan is like. sorry this was horribly long

#teasdays #readmore because this is unbearably long #meta #i guess?#i don't really have a proper tag for this stuff #ask

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love-stickywitchcollector · 4 years

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magzoso-tech · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/a-founders-guide-to-recession-planning-for-startups/

A founder’s guide to recession planning for startups

Schwark Satyavolu Contributor

Schwark Satyavolu is a general partner at Trinity Ventures where he makes early-stage investments in fintech, security and AI. A serial entrepreneur, he co-founded Yodlee (YDLE) and Truaxis, both of which were acquired. Previously, he held senior executive positions at LifeLock and Mastercard. He is an inventor on 15 patents.