#some recent activity where i had to block some morons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twiststreet · 3 years

Photo

New favorite purchase in a while: my copy of OffGrid magazine (or “recoil offgrid...?”) that I bought at the Sacramento airport because I missed what magazines used to be: little short opportunities on the most casual possible basis to find out about a world not your own, paid attention to with scrutiny but some editorial distance, I guess is how I’d put it. The last days of magazines were a while ago (and the heyday was before I was alive, the heyday was the 60′s)-- and the internet’s attempts to do magazines all seem to have failed, RIP Grantland or whatever. But it was an hour long plane flight and I didn’t want to read the novel I brought with me, so.

OffGrid seemed like it’d be a fun one-- I mean, that jacket. What’s going on with that guy’s life that he was like “I need to wear this jacket?” How much time got spent posing that collar. Why is he in using a laptop in the woods...? You can’t see what’s on the bag to his left but it’s the words “Mystery Ranch.” I wanted to solve that mystery!!!

Plus: for a good solid moment, I was like, “Man, what if I had a DIY Junkyard Knife Project. What if that’d be good for me, like, as a new thing? What if immersing myself into high-end artisnal shivs could become a fun side hustle? I could sell my bespoke shanks at Guns and Knives Shows.” My whole thing lately has been trying to pivot and all, so. You know: dreams; aspirations; etc. (Bladeshow West is on October 8-9 in Long Beach and has the “West Coast Flipping Championship”, but I’m out of town). ��

So I open it up on the plane-- inside front cover is a photograph of a socom 16 cqb, opposite a photo of a man holding the rifle. The man’s beard is exactly what you’re imagining. Most of the ads are for guns or night vision shit (one ad is for Gatorz sunglasses, though-- “the world’s best eyewear for mission driven people”). Besides that, it’s a normal-looking magazine, albeit not a particularly inspired one on the design side, but. There’s a gear section like men’s magazines always have, but for the “ultimate go bag”, bikes, “urban use” hiking boots, dinner sausages, thermal optics, knives, and a book called “The Ninja Wilderness Survival Guide.” Ninjas were big outdoorsmen. You know: so far so good-- exactly what I wanted. It’s a magazine for MEN in all caps so everything being sold is exclusively black or grey or grey-brown.

And it’s got that sort of “we’re a magazine” tone to the prose, like there’s a certain style of writing that magazines always have-- it’s such a narrow band of style that people are okay with reading... but like from the survivalist sausage review:

“As much as we fancy ourselves survivalists, not all of us are going to take down a buck, field dress it, and haul it back to home base during a weekend camping trip with the family. Sometimes we just ilke to chill and and make s’mores.”

That sort of performance of humility that magazines have. “We’re all just people here. Now here’s our review of a $90 hatchet” (‘perfect for batoning wood.’). Part of me wants to live in the world of magazines...

But then you get to the Good Part-- the article “What If Your Privacy has Been Compromised by Internet Doxing” by ... “Recoil Offgrid Staff.” Ohhhh, I see what they did there. You’re not going to dox the person who wrote this article, folks. (Except the names of staff are all listed in the magazine credits, so not the tightest op-sec I’ve ever seen, but okay).

This article kind of catches the eye because of the extremely specific hypotheticals.

Because it’s an article about what to do about internet doxing but it begins with a section called “The Setup”, laying out a scenario that YOU, the READER, might have to worry about, a situation where you might very well get doxed and then what??? Here’s that part of the article:

The Setup: imagine you attended a city council meeting to express your concern about the side effect of a growing homeless population in your area. You plan to voice your concern for your famliy’s safety after witnessing an increase in drug sales, sexual assaults and public defecation. [...] Some activists who attended this meeting did so in an effort to retaliate against residents who were speaking out against the homeless problem. [..] An online petition appearing to solicit residents to push for legislation that imposes tougher penalties against homelessness had recently been started. [...] Everyone who’d signed up had been catfished. [...] Now, hostile notes are being left in your mailbox, harassing calls and texts from blocked numbers are coming in and you genuinely fear that the reprisals will become physical.”

The entire premise of the article is that you say something so hateful at a city council meeting about “how we need to punish the homeless” that the internet causes you to fear for your safety!! Your A+ plan to **have the same decrepit bureaucracy that’s allowed a homeless crisis to just terrorize people because they can’t pay for basic survival** is so despised that you need to read a magazine article urging you to (and this is a quote) “decide whether to stay at my residence, leave my house temporarily, or permanently move.”

(The worst doxing I ever saw was because women went near video games, but).

Just this ultra-specific hypothetical! There’s a real “office staff” 10000% got made fun of on twitter for yelling some dumb shit stink to the proceedings from, ike, paragraph 3 on. And if you were wondering whether the article would complain about vaccines later, you betcha. In a later section, the article warns you to obtain situational awareness and not engage with internet crackpots, but the hypothetical example they give is “Did that person actually say they believe that anyone who’s hesitant to be vaccinated should be compelled to do so or be banned from participating in any social activity?” Use your situational awareness! Stay away from that person online but insist on coughing around them socially! They can dox you just for trying to negligently murder their immuno-compromised grandpa!! Here’s an ad for a gun.

Here’s a drawing that comes with the article:

The reader is being asked to relate to the person looking at the phone! “That’s probably what you look like.” I mean... seems fair?

The next article is with a veteran of the IDF. There’s an article about hiding secret messages in memes (the example is a meme of a dog that say “love is in the air or is that bacon?”), which suggests you hide images in “raunchy images” since casual onlookers may click away from those faster... on the internet... where raunchy images are frowned upon?? There’s an article about how to escape if you’re ever tied up with duct tape (i’m going to live forever). There’s an article about the kinds of reptiles you want to hunt when you’re trying to survive that tells readers not to hunt crocodiles, and stick to snakes and lizards-- there goes my weekend.

But I just love that at the very core of this, that they say the quiet part out loud, that the reason you need all this survivalist knowledge and tactical gear is... because quote “self-proclaimed social justice” people out there don’t want to hear your A+ super-good ideas about society. A young person called me a Mayonnaise-Turd for refusing to be vaccinated and coughing on all the produce at Krogers. What’s the best tactical knife I can buy? Waaaah. Just the constant fear that drips off of these morons, because they live in a world where they get called stupid finally with the regularity they’ve long deserved. Just the most scared fucking cowards-- they need night vision goggles to fucking go to Dave & Busters, because these stay-puft marshmallow men think that AntiFa is going to bumrush the Dave & Busters for their skeeball tickets.

I love anytime you scratch away at Real Masculinity and find the throbbing, wet Hyperemotional Pussy underneath that’s there like at least 7 out of 10 times. That was basically the premise of the entire early 00′s in comedy, and I had a really good time, but then woke comedy-scolds made them stop and then ended comedy and replaced comedy with Bo Burnham filming himself crying while waiting for Door Dash in his mansion. I don’t understand the world anymore! I wish I’d owned a PFC9 Compact pistol with aggressive slide serrations when children killed bromance comedies!!!! Jason Segal and Paul Rudd haven’t made a movie together in years-- time to go off the grid!

#Civilization is Doomed.

8 notes · View notes

lesbiancosimaniehaus · 3 years

Text

i started listening to the blocked and reported podcast, mostly because im caught up on all my regular pods, and i think they have very interesting perspectives. the only episode that really had rubbed me the “wrong” way was the recent one where they invited a “big” camgirl (dont remember her name) and like... cited Julie Bindel and her anti-porn radfem views, and the guest was basically “it doesnt jive with my own experiences, but maybe that’s how others feel” and they didn’t push her on what it means that like... many women caught up in prostitution in its various forms actually find it quite damaging and precarious, and she kind of benefits from and exacerbates that problem.she also made an (i think, fundamentally moronic) argument about anti porn feminism framing the issue in a similar way to religious fundamentalist’s arguments about abortion. like, nevermind the fact that fundamentalists almost never express genuine concern for women and their physical, emotional and mental welfare because its antithetical to their whole movement (like, name a branch of fundamental christianity/fundamentalist movement of any religion that hasnt been rife with rumors of sexual victimization of women and girls, or that encourages female autonomy of any kind that isn’t somehow tied back to...be your husband’s helpmeet and bear children to spread the gospel or some shit). Anti-porn/anti-prostitution feminism is almost always concerned with the harm those activities inflict on women as individuals, and women as a class. I don’t think either host is explicitly a feminist, but if you introduce a tiny clip of julie bindel, who is a radical/gender critical feminist, then it’s kind of disingenuous to not... use that to drive a bigger conversation. like, i’m anit porn/anti prostitution both because i believe that it is exploitative and harmful to individual women (regardless of the ones that enjoy it and find it fulfilling...someone somewhere is getting coerced and raped and brutalized and those are stakes that are too high for me), and because i can’t conceive of a perspective where that occupation is in any way something that well-adjusted people aspire to.

#bar pod #blocked and reported

2 notes · View notes

jemej3m · 5 years

Text

incarnate (p3)

Hheeere uuu goooooooo (OooOoooooOOooOOoOooO) - p2

Andrew rocked up to the weekly gathering, basically in his pyjamas. Neither him nor Kevin were early risers, but Kevin had the gall to actually come to these things appropriately dressed.

Andrew had just chucked a sweater over his t-shirt, tucked his pyjama pants into boots, yanked a beanie over his head and shuffled into his overcoat. Erik and Nicky - who lived in the second bedroom of their apartment - didn’t look much more presentable than he did, slomping around like zombies until they’d knocked back some coffee.

Why Wymack and Dan held these gatherings at sunrise was beyond Andrew. He hated every single fucking time the little fox dropped off the acorn message at their door. How the fox even managed to get inside the building without triggering security was a wonder in itself. Andrew couldn’t wait to move out into a house.

They’d all crammed into the car, revved up the engine way too loud for almost five in the morning, and cruised till they arrived to the edge of town.

They all trudged through the forest till they’d arrived at the clearing where Palmetto held all their most powerful rituals and flamboyant gatherings. It also happened to be where Andrew had summoned the demon - Neil - maybe two weeks ago.

He still had no idea what he wanted from the thing. He didn’t want anything, really. He’d never wanted anything.

Andrew lit a cigarette when they arrived to the clearing, waiting for the others to show up. Renee, Dan and Allison were already there: Renee, smiling like an angel, Allison, looking like a god-send and Dan acting like she owned the place, formally greeting the others upon their arrival.

Renee sidled up to Andrew, nudging their shoulders. “Something’s changed about your aura. Something lighter.”

Odd. He would have thought a demon summoning would’ve put a blemish on his soul, or whatever bullshit Renee actually bought into. He just shrugged.

“The whole place seems a little different, really.” Renee said. “Like its recovering from something big. You wouldn’t have been here recently, would you?”

“Everyone hangs around here.” He said flatly. “We’re a bunch of witches and this is the coven’s gathering circle.”

“Of course.” Renee said easily. “It could have been any one of us. It’s definitely not Kevin, though. He looks far too guilty.”

Andrew’s gaze travelled across to where Kevin was mulling about the exact spot Neil had appeared the first time. Andrew muttered angrily under his breath and stalked over, dragging Kevin by the arm.

“Hey!” Kevin complained. “I was just checking -”

“Shut it.” Andrew hissed. “Fuck this up and I’ll tell everyone exactly who hexed the coven in an attempt to get rid of his tattoo and ended up giving everyone shitty tramp stamps. We clear?”

Kevin gulped. “Crystal.”

The recognisable footsteps of Wymack were heard by everyone: They all stood to the clearing’s edge as he arrived, flanked by Abby and Bee. Bee smiled at Andrew warmly and tapped her wrist ( “Talk later?” ). Andrew rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Boyd and the neophyte will get here soon.” Wymack said gruffly, brushing himself off. A twig was still stuck out of his hair and Abby plucked it out fondly. “Yes, that’s why I’ve called you all here. We’re initiating a witch into the Palmetto coven this morning.”

Two sets of footsteps neared the clearing. One set familiar - heavy and rhythmic, like Boyd’s heart rate - and the other flighty and nervous. As they appeared, Andrew’s heart bottomed out into his stomach.

“Neil Josten.” Wymack gestured for him to step forward. “Welcome to the Palmetto coven.”

Neil nodded gently, eyes scouring the circle that greeted him. He looked human - the scars on his face and arms were gone, and his eyes were a normal (still devilishly gorgeous) shape and shade of blue. When his eyes flit to Andrew and Kevin, he had to stifle the hints of a grin.

“Step into the centre: everyone else, join hands.” Wymack instructed. Andrew hated this part of the initiation, twisting his fingers with Renee’s and Kevin’s. Everyone’s energy flowed freely between them. He could feel the valliant leadership from Dan, Allison’s lures and illusions, Bee’s soothing calm, Abby’s healing tisanes, clarity and forgiveness from Renee, strength and loyalty from Matt, Kevin’s logic and perfection, Nicky’s boisterousness and sunshine and Erik’s curiosity and perseverance.

When Neil bowed his head, they all took a startled step back. Of course it’d be something unlike any of them had ever witnessed: Neil was a creature of pure magic. Not like humans, who were poor conductors at best. His power glossed over Andrew’s skin like gold dust and he opened his eyes.

Neil’s glamours had held up, but they wouldn’t be good enough for Renee and Bee. Regardless, they both smiled and went to Neil to welcome him alongside the rest of the coven. He looked lost and somewhat uncomfortable with all their friendly introductions, looking frantically from witch to witch.

Andrew kept back: Kevin did too. Wymack glanced to them only once, shaking his head.

“He’s so strong.” Kevin murmured. “He could - Andrew, he could teach us stuff! Will you ask him to?”

“Like I’m going to waste my one wish on your needless pursuits for knowledge.” Andrew muttered, letting his head fall to one side. Even Kevin’s rattling couldn’t distract him from the way Neil’s eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks, the way the tip of his nose curved perfectly to his lips.

Andrew would never ask for that. There was no consent in magically inclined bindings. But so long as he could appreciate from afar, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Oh, how Andrew hadn’t had a clue.

three moon cycles later

“It’s the fall equinox, it’s the fall equinox!” Neil crowed, sitting on Andrew’s dresser with his ankles crossed and rapping against the wooden surface with his knuckles. “Wake up, morons. Is that an appropriate insult? I’m still not very good with insults. Although I have decided that you humans are rather feeble: Almost pathetic. So maybe dweebs is a better term?”

Andrew blinked awake blearily, not realising he’d set a hyper-active demon to go off at six o’clock in the morning rather than his usual Kevin-Day-Getting-Bored-And-Wanting-To-Research-Or-Practise alarm.

“How’d you get in here?” Kevin said, waving his hands around in a futile effort to block the rays of sun that peered through the window: Neil, the little bastard, had opened the curtains. “Andrew, didn’t we set up protective wards?”

“Neil’s a part of the coven.” Andrew muttered. “He can bypass them. He’s been bypassing them for two and a half months now.”

“Who decided it’d be a good idea to bring a demon into the coven?”

“Matt’s.”

“To be fair, he still doesn’t know.” Neil chirped. “And I’m right here: I can hear everything you two are say. And some things you aren’t saying.”

Kevin sat up, shirtless and still half asleep. “What, you can read minds now?”

“I’ve always been able to read everyone’s intentions and emotions.” Neil corrected him. “It’s rather necessary for one’s survival. I’d teach you how to block it, but that wouldn’t be any fun.”

“You’re the worst.” Kevin groused, stumbling to his feet and disappearing into the bathroom.

Andrew finally sat up and checked his arm-bands were there, pulling a hoodie that’d been stuffed between his bed and the wall over his head. Neil watched him with his head cocked to the side. Andrew didn’t care. It’d been three months of having a pet demon and Andrew really couldn’t care less about the five-foot-three nuisance.

“I lied before.” Neil said, softly. He was still sitting atop of Andrew’s dresser, effectively blocking Andrew from grabbing a clean pair of boxers. “I can read everyone’s intentions and emotions - except yours.”

“Now that’s some Twilight bullshit.” Andrew grunted, checking over his plants with careful fingertips. “Do you glitter in the sun, too?”

“I hate it when you make pop-culture references.” He complained. “I never understand them.”

“Forget it. Why can’t you read me?”

He shrugged. “Most demons back home are very good at concealing themselves, but humans have never been. Renee is also practised, as is Bee, but your soul is far more intricately protected.”

Andrew closed his eyes momentarily. “It needs to be.”

“Right.” Neil said, unconvinced. “I just hope you’re not constricting yourself in the process.”

Andrew flipped him off.

“What? I’m just making observations.”

“Well, make your observations elsewhere. I need to get to my drawers.”

Neil, in a rare moment of complacency, did as he was told. He sat on the edge of Andrew’s bed instead and leaned forward. “Have you thought about what you want from me?”

Andrew ignored him.

“Because it’s the fall equinox, and I can draw a lot of power tonight. I should use it to escape.” Neil admitted.

Andrew slowly turned. “What?”

Neil looked up at him from under his curly fringe. He’d let loose his glamour again - fuck, those eyes got Andrew every damned time - and he hadn’t really cut his hair for however long he’d been here. It was getting ridiculously long. Andrew wanted to run his fingers through it.

“I can’t stay.” He said. “My father will find me. He’ll break into this realm somehow and ruin everything. I have to leave before he does.”

“Fuck that. You’re not going anywhere.”

Neil looked back down at his hands. They shook slightly: He balled them in his trousers, a pair ratty pair of jeans. Andrew crouched in front of him.

“Neil,” He said. “I have the journal. I have you. If he wants to cause trouble, I’ll send him to Hell’s ninth fucking circle, got it? You’re staying.”

“But -” He tried.

“No.” Andrew reached out to pinch his lips shut. “Quiet, before you say something ludicrous. Stay out of trouble and I’ll watch your back. Clear?”

Neil’s lips fought free of Andrew’s fingertips to smile, a small thing that was so reserved but unrepentant all the same. Andrew hated it. “Crystal.”

#andreil #witch!andrew #demon!neil #someone kick me its going to get angsty #i promised myself it wouldnt and i failed #all for the game #fantasy au #magic au #neil josten #andrew minyard #spooktober au #jem writes

221 notes · View notes

simplyfandomish · 5 years

Text

Sister, Sister (3/_)

Older! Gilbert Blythe x Older Shirley! Reader

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ||

Anne and Diana took the usual route to school as they did every morning. Both girls were conversing about the basic math assignment they were given as homework the night before. Ruby ran up to the pair from the pathway that led from her newly built home and joined the two girls in their discussion.

“The both of you got 25?” Ruby’s eyes widened slightly, then ducked to the ground in embarrassment, “I got 16...” She had a feeling she had gotten the answer wrong last night, but a piece of her felt confident in her ability in Maths, but seeing Diana and Anne - the two smartest girls in class share the same answer, its was written in stone that she had gotten the problem wrong.

“Oh, the both of you are just so smart! Like Gilbert Blythe…” Ruby sighed with heart eyes. Diana and Anne shared a look with one another, the redhead crossed her eyes in annoyance. Diana snickered.

“Don’t laugh!” Ruby defended. “He is the smartest out of all the boys! He wants to become a doctor, remember?” She stated proudly, now with a skip in her step.

How her mood could shift so quickly from just the sound of Gilbert’s name amazed Anne.

“Maybe he could help me with my homework! Oh, it’ll be a date!” Ruby cupped her cheeks, surely her mind wandering to what would occur during their study date. Anne and Diana watched as the blonde haired girl’s cheeks turned a blaring red and she hid her face within her pink knitted scarf, suddenly bashful.

Diana sighed and changed the conversation, “How is your sister, Anne?”

Anne’s blue eyes sparkled, “She’s spectacular! We write to each other almost everyday - or whenever she has a chance. She’s been increasingly occupied with work, lately. But that’s just like my big sister, always been busy, busy!”

“Sister?!” Ruby gasped, “You have a sister?”

Anne nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Have I not told you about her?” Her brows furrowed as she tried to rake her head if she ever mentioned her eldest sister.

“No! Oh, how exciting!” Ruby clapped her hands. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned her before?”

Anne played with one of her braids, suddenly bashful.

Diana piped up, “There was an incident with their letters and addresses, but we ran into (Y/n) in Charlottetown while we were visiting my aunt Josephine.” Short and simple. Anne nodded in gratitude. Diana nodded back.

Ruby suddenly sprung in front of the pair, blocking their path momentarily. “What’s she like?!”

Anne smiled, and her eyes grew distant, “Amazing. She’s really tough and knows how to throw a punch! She actually discombobulated a rude customer where she works. She works as a barmaid, but she always jokes about being security.”

“A-a barmaid?” Ruby stuttered. Her imagination drifted off to the cliche images of a barmaid. Tight corsets that supported large...ahem - bosoms, dark red lipstick that accentuated plump lips, hair teased high and tight with dirty curls, and a dark skirt that would be too tight around the bottom.

Could the man she had knocked out trying to be grabbing with her large bosom?? Ruby’s head nearly exploded.

Anne nodded.

“Anne, you should invite her to Green Gables for tea!” Diana smiled widely.

Ruby whipped her head to the ravenette with wide eyes, but she went ignored.

Anne nearly lit up like a firework. “That sounds like a scrumptious idea, Diana! Let’s hurry to class so I can get some paper!” Diana nodded and both girls locked arms and began to scurry to the school house.

“Come on, Ruby! We’ll be late!” Anne gripped the small girl’s elbow and began to drag her.

Ruby was quite literally dragged as she felt numb like a wet rag doll as she still tried to grasp the concept that her dear, imaginative friend, Anne, was related to a busty barmaid!

A pair of dirty, brown leather boots stepped onto the wooden platform of Avonlea Station, the passenger took in a breath of the fresh country air, much different than that of musty Charlottetown. They nodded towards the train conductor as their luggage was placed by their feet.

The passenger pulled out a cigarette and lit the end of the paper stick. The tobacco ignited and a puff of smoke drifted from the smoker’s mouth. “So this is Avonlea.” They muttered with a nod of satisfaction.

The visit to this small town better be worth it. A large hand slammed on the smoker’s shoulder. “Avonlea...the pictures and descriptions do no justice.” The large man sighed with a smile.

The smoker jerked his shoulder away, “We’re not supposed to be seen together, you moron. You want our plan to fail?”

“Right, sorry.” The large man stepped away from the smoker and put on his bowler hat. He tugged on the front of his jacket and picked up his suitcase. “Meet you at Green Gables then.” He nodded in farewell and walked towards the stables to rent a cab.

The smoked rolled his eyes and drew out another breath of nicotine. Then he dropped the cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out. He ran a hand through his gelled hair and carried his luggage sack over his shoulder as he walked off. “So you’re here to surprise your sister?” A dark skinned conductor asked as he handled the redhead’s luggage.

(Y/n) nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, sir!” She saw him bend over to place her luggage down, but she insisted she just take the case from his hands. He accepted and placed the heavy luggage into her hands. “Been working extra hard to save up some money to come to Avonlea. Speaking of, if you ever need a good place for good ale go to Emilio’s! Just say your a friend of mine and you’ll be treated like a king!” She was bouncing on her feet in excitement. (Emilio’s tavern was welcome to all genders of all races - after all, Emilio himself was a natural born Spaniard that happened to fall in love with Canadian woman and the country itself!)

The conductor laughed and nodded. Never had he met such a white skinned individual who conversed with him like an equal. It was refreshing. “I wish you and your sister the best of luck, miss (Y/n).”

“Thank you, Maxwell!” She smiled at him and practically sprinted towards the stables to catch a ride.

The conductor snickered and shook his head at the exuberant girl and hopped back onto the steps of a scarlet train cabin. He waved his hand towards the engine, giving the engineer the signal to depart.

The train whistled cried and then the scarlet train chugged back to Charlottetown.

“Anne, you have a sister!”

“That’s marvelous!”

“When can we meet her, Anne?” Cole asked with a small smile.

Anne smiled widely at the small crowd that surrounded her and Diana’s table.

“An older sister, yes! And she’s amazing! We just recently found each other again due to a mishap with our addresses, but we haven’t stopped talking to each other since!”

“I bet she was actively ignoring you.” Billy snickered from the other side of the schoolhouse. “Tell us about your sister, orphan. Is she just as ugly as you?” His band of boys snickered as well and began to throw in their own two cents.

“Dotted with freckles!”

“Same pumpkin hair.”

“A motormouth know-it-all?”

At each insult Anne grew more sour, and then anger filled her being. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Hell runs in terror when its a redheaded woman scoured.

“You take all that back, Billy Andrews!” She jumped to her feet and slammed her palms on the desktop. “I may not be the prettiest one here, but my sister is absolutely breathtaking. And you better watch your mouth or she’ll knock you to the ground!”

Diana nodded in all seriousness. But a part of her would happily pay to see (Y/n) put Billy Andrews in his place.

The blonde boy stood from his desk and squared his shoulders. “Is that a threat, mutt?”

“Let us just say that when she does come to visit, you better watch yourself.” She crossed her arms in defiance. If her dear, older sister can knock out a drunk with one kick, then perhaps it was high time Anne learned how to step up for herself! (Plus the fact, that Anne now had an older sister to hide behind, made her a little more reckless - but she would never admit that.)

Billy scoffed, “Whatever, orphan. Bet she’s as scrawny as you.” He cracked his knuckles as he sat back down in his chair.

The girls couldn’t help but gawk at Anne. As common as it was for the redhead to lose her temper, never before had she seemed so...confident in her argument? Yes, confident sounded like a good word.

“Sooo, when can we meet her?” Tillie asked. Bringing the conversation bacl to Anne’s current favorite topic.

Anne tapped her chin, “I’m not too sure. Soon hopefully! She’s just been really busy with her job in Charlottetown.”

“Oh? What does she do?” Josie Pye asked.

“Tailor dresses?”

“A nanny?”

“A waitress?”

“Close,” Anne answered to the last suggestion. “She’s-

“A barmaid!” Ruby squeaked out in sheer embarrassment. Her cheeks pink like her dress and hair ribbon.

All conversations halted in the schoolhouse as all the students stared at Anne with unreadable expressions. Some of the girls’ eyes widened and some of the boy’s cheeks heated up. Even Billy was silent. Guess everyone in Avonlea had the same image of a barmaid as Ruby had...

Anne picked up on the silence and rose a brow, “Yes, and?”

Tagged List: [Open]: angel-in-the-roses

#anne with an e #awae #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x reader

204 notes · View notes

fadingearthquakesuitgaming · 4 years

Text

Online poker: The Texas Sharpshooter Misconception

Photo a male, sitting on a hillside. He has a weapon and also he's firing random shots at the side of a barn some yards away. Soon, the wall surface of the barn will be riddled with bullet holes. Regardless of the randomness of the shooter's objective, the holes will be unevenly dispersed. Undoubtedly, there will be voids and collections. If he wants, the shooter can approach the barn and repaint a circle the greatest collection of bullet holes. To the informal viewer, it will currently appear that the man is a fantastic sharpshooter. This is called the Texas Sharpshooter Fallacy.Now envision you go to the online poker table, being in the cutoff seat. The activity is folded up to you as you look down at the asqs. You open up with a typical raising and the switch-- an aggressive, trash-talking, chip-shoving blockhead re-raises. Folded back around to you as well as after a few raises backward and forward, both of you lastly see a flop, which arrives qd8s4s. Faster than you can claim "pot-committed" all the chips are in the center and the cards are on their backs. Your opponent shows a set of red kings. He has you covered.

However you still have lots of outs and also a good chance at taking down this big pot. Your blockhead opponent knows this also and also yet he can not conceal his frustration when one of your outs, the ah, spikes on the turn. You virtually sympathize with him; all the arrogant bluster has actually headed out of him now. He's just an additional bad gamer about to lose most of his pile, ironically on among minority celebrations he had an actual hand that he played well. Of course, there is still one more card to come now your opponent's chances are minimized to just one singular out-- the king of clubs. Any kind of various other card on the river and success will certainly be yours. You make a nervous joke concerning evading a one-outer as the dealer peels off the last card, and also there it is. The king of clubs. The blockhead pumps his clenched fist as well as appears with even more vibrant trash talk as he brings in the enormous pot. Lots of, otherwise most, poker players in this situation would feel that something individual had actually gone to work in this specific loss. There was only one out in the whole deck that can take away victory as well as offer it to your opponent. One! A 44-to-1 shot! Perhaps you jinxed it, lured fate with that said kidding comment concerning evading one-outers. Possibly, in a scenario like that, it's tough not to believe that the texas hold'em gods were working out some sort of individual vendetta, established to make you lose versus a ridiculous, much-inferior opponent.

However if you enable yourself to believe such as this, you're just checking out a tiny part of the image. You're repainting a circle one bullet opening on the side of a barn. Yes, that king of clubs was a 44-to-1 shot to spike on the river. Yet the very same can be claimed for any type of various other last card. If the river card had been the 2d, that likewise would certainly have been a 44-to-1 shot to get there. Every time the river is dealt-- every out that saves you, every card that squashes you, every worthless block-- that card should conquer long shots to get here when and where it does. They're all bullet holes on the side of the barn. You draw a circle the king of clubs since that's the bullet that went to your heart. Yet it's still simply one random opening among a plethora. Absolutely nothing personal concerning it. Online poker gamers are permanently drawing a circle around some random cluster and then stating it a bullseye. Every single time we whine, "I never win coinflips" or "I can never ever win with this dealer" or "Bonehead challengers always draw out on me"-- we are equally as guilty as the would-be sharpshooter of trying to make a purposeful pattern out of randomness. Fairly, logically, a lot of us know these things aren't real. We do not constantly shed coinflips and also the morons do not constantly draw out. It just really feels by doing this occasionally. But despite the amount of coinflips you have actually shed just recently, or just how important they were, it's still simply a horrible little cluster of arbitrary holes.

Infatuate on that slim bit of information, stand as well close to the barn, and you only get a partial, nearsighted view of what's really going on. However if you tip away, check out the structure from a range, the cluster sheds its value. Sheds its power to make you really feel as though destiny has actually singled you out to be a sufferer. The actual risk takes place when we permit these I'm-so-unlucky ideas to influence our play. If a poker player is encouraged he can never (or nearly never) win a race-- and after that is confronted with a borderline choice to shove his chips on a most likely coinflip, can he make the correct selection without the wussifying impact of worry? Can the texas hold'em gamer that feels that it's his unique curse to obtain unlucky versus morons continue to play his best video game when he discovers himself in a hand versus among those overly-fortunate morons? When the response is no, losing ends up being a self-fulfilling revelation.

Weak-tightness creeps in, as we don't get sufficient value out of our victors, fold hands that would have been champions, and also perhaps worst of all, stop working to shield hands that must have been victors. What poker gamer hasn't ever been guilty of falling short to wager or increase enough with a made hand since we were half-convinced the pinhead opponent was mosting likely to draw out anyway? Fearing a loss, we wind up guaranteeing it. But the Texas Sharpshooter Misconception isn't practically the means we view rotten luck. We're frequently equally as guilty of painting a circle around a couple of chosen bullet openings when the cards are falling in our favor. Belief in good luck is dangerous as well. "I always win coinflips" is equally as fallacious as "I never win coinflips" and just as costly, if not extra so, if also when that idea coaxes you to place your cash in bad. Yes, it's great to have self-confidence as long as that confidence is rooted in real ability. Yet the online poker gamer who comes to the battle believing he is mosting likely to dominate due to the fact that "I constantly win with <insert favorite junk hand here>" is throwing down the gauntlet.

It refers point of view. By drawing a digital circle around a few chosen bits of details-- a handful of poor beats below, a stroke of luck there-- we can convince ourselves of practically anything. And like the ersatz sharpshooter, it's all about making ourselves look far better than we actually are. Reviewing a tough losing streak, we repaint a circle around the misfortune and ignore the negative plays. Or after a big winning session, we paint a circle around the great plays and also disregard the hands where we obtained lucky. It's calming, it's guaranteeing, as well as it's a catch. Each time we do this, we're shooting ourselves in the foot.

1 note · View note

petty-revenge-stories · 5 years

Text

I get some entitled highschool students worried about the flu

tl;dr at the bottom

First, just to make perfectly clear, this happened in February while flu season was still pretty active. It was just your average day, getting on the bus to go to work, though the bus today was pretty crowded - or so I thought. Turns out there were 3 highschool students (from the local highschool cause of their uniforms) just blocking the way for everyone and no one was willing to push past them. Being a bit miffed about being squished by the other passengers because of these 3 morons I decided to be a jerk~.

Like I said, it was still flu season-ish and people were trying to avoid those who were coughing/sniffling/etc. (while I didn't get the flu I had been recently sick, so the motions and feelings were fresh in my mind). I decided to wedge myself riiiiiight beside the 3 brats and put on one of the best acts of my life: constant coughing, sniffling, rubbing my eyes, the works.

Now I'm not an extremely evil person so I didn't keep this up for too long and I was definitely bothering the other passengers too - just not as much as those 3 kids (also because my stop was only 5 stops from where I got on) but I kept the act up until I fully got off the bus - the other people who got off along with me definitely noticed something was up when I suddenly stopped my performance.

And the little cherry on top was that half way to my stop I noticed one of the spoiled kids started coughing and the other 2 took a subtle step further back~

tl;dr - some brats were making a crowded bus even more crowded by not moving, so I triggered them into thinking they might end up sick.

(source) story by (/u/knite_0)

#pettyrevenge #by /u/knite_0 #petty revenge #revenge story #petty revenge stories #revenge stories #last10

165 notes · View notes

ohgoddard · 4 years

Text

Fist of Fire.4.

A couple hours after the combat lesson, a request for a meeting was sent to the Hero combat Teacher. And very soon, Reverse had a very long meeting with the Academy dean. He sat in front of a long oak desk, covered in papers and a very ancient computer. The room was depressing at best, and pathetic at worst. It was very apparent the funding went into the classrooms and facilities of this academy instead of the administration. Behind the desk, sitting down in a very large and ornate office chair, sat a toad. Well, he had the fat and large head of a toad, and he was not very tall. But what he lacked in physical ability and demeanor was filled with a sense of authority and power. Reverse gulped. The toadman took off his overly large pair of glasses and started cleaning them. “Mr. Ellington, yesterday you sent five children to the infirmary and several more back to their dorms bruised. Normally, I do not care for this.” Reverse had been expecting this. Even though he had brought it past the Dean, and had gotten his permission to run the ‘quirk assessment’ lesson, he knew this was going to happen. Reverse went to reply, opening his mouth and raising a finger, but a quick look from the Dean shut that down. “Normally,” the toad man replied in a rumbling voice, “this would not be an issue. But yesterday you punched the Mayor’s daughter in the gut.” He put on his glasses and leaned forward.

Reverse had fought many villains before. Monsters too. Beings of extreme power and anger, that had given him many an injury and pain. He was reminded of that power right now, as the Dean stared at him from behind the desk. If the toadman could shoot death from his eyes, there is doubt he would have in that moment. The dean straightens his tie before continuing. “Now, the Mayor knows what he signed when his daughter decided to go here. Truth be told, she should not even be here. I have strong suspicion some on the admissions staff allowed her in with false hopes and empty promises of rewards.” He takes out a stack of paper, taking a breath. “We see where that gets us now. The Mayor is very mad with us, and is threatening an investigation among a whole deal of things.” The Dean shoves the pile towards Reverse, and as he picked them up he saw that they were letters from the office of the Mayor concerning the teaching practices of the Hero Combat Teacher.“I’m going to ignore that pompous bastard and all the shit he spews.”

Reverse looked up with astonishment. His mouth agape, he tried to make a sentence but a raised hand from the Dean silenced him. “If we are to release heroes from this school, or if we fill the ranks of those private organizations we will do so with real people and success. The Mayor cannot touch us, we are beyond him. But, I am going to give you a warning.”

Reverse had been filled with too much different emotions, and was bracing himself for the next impact. “You cannot openly assault our students. Atleast, during class time. The A.H.A has spent a good deal of time out of the news, atleast a few weeks now which is not common for us. I do not want to hear about anymore poor conduct from you involving the students here. However, if you were to make an after school club, then we would be free of any issues.” The Dean pulled out a separate paper, with what looked like an already signed signature on a dotted line.

“Let's discuss the operation of the new ‘A.H.A Combat Team’ , if you will.”

After a few more hours of work, Reverse left the Dean’s office as the new sponsor of the Combat Team. There were a number of schools in the US that competed in Combat events, and the Atlanta Hero Academy had not participated since the founding years of the school ( Sometime in the 2090s). Reverse was muttering to himself, walking down the hallways down to his classroom/office, when he passed the nurse’s office. He paused, standing still outside the door. Maybe, he thought, I should check up on the kids in there. He walked in, pushing the door and leaving it open. The nurse was at his desk, writing a report on today’s influx of visits. He turned to see the visitor and laughed. “Come to grab a trophy from your recent hunt?” The nurse was a short,stocky, old black man, with a head full of silver hair. He was wearing green scrubs,and had several scars up and down his arms. “See, usually when kids come in here they just want an excuse out of class. But this time? You really gave me a test of my abilities. I’ll be honest, it’s been a while since I got to use my quirk to its fullest.” He grabs an apple from his desk and walks over to Reverse, and gives him a look. “Nasty burn scar you got there.”

Reverse put his hand over his forehead, and winces. “Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “one of the students got a lick on me. Gave a good sting too.” The nurse put his hand on Reverse’s arm and all of the sudden the apple in his other hand turned to dust. “Your scar should heal up soon.”

Reverse was taken aback a small amount. “That’s quite the quirk you have there.”

“Yes, it takes the life energy from one object and gives it to another. Good thing i’m a nurse right?” He laughs. Reverse gives him a weary chuckle in reply. Going to need to keep a note of that. The nurse regained his composure then continued. “Hey can I ask something of you? My wife has been attacking me all week about getting home earlier than I usually do. Can you do me a favor? Can you stay here for just about 1 more hour?” The nurse was speaking incredibly fast, as he was putting on his coat and walking towards the door Reverse was standing at. “Really thank you for all of this, you only need to look after one kid. The rest are staying for the night. Make sure the heat fans are plugged in. Thank you so much bye!” And with that the nurse had left the room, leaving a very confused Reverse standing wondering what just happened.

What just happened? He thought to himself. Did I just get hit with extra stuff? Man, I need to be more cautious of this place better. Reverse took a deep sigh and looked around at the students in the bed. He observed one in a giant block of ice, which made him giggle when he saw it. “Aw man, Snow-throne you outdid yourself.” He walked around, looking at the other beds. He saw the one student still conducting electricity, courtesies of BreakerX2 , and then his two students. He looked at Riley and felt something. He thinks it was respect, but he is not certain, as he had never respected a teenager before. But, he thought, if anyone deserved it 'd be her. She was the only one to dodge one of his attacks today and at the same time was grateful to be hit. She liked to learn, and from the looks of it had gotten to this school the hard way instead of the silver spoon morons he had to deal with. He would keep a close eye on her.

That left the last bed then,the one close to the window. Laying in it, and looking quite knocked out, he saw Jade Laurens. Reverse sat down at the end of Riley’s bed, and looked on over at Jade. I cannot believe out of all the schools, she’d be in this one. Reverse put his head in his hands and the memories came flooding back. He tried his best to forget that day and move on, as the pain it caused him still left scars, but try as he can he could never. He could not forget seeing the Washington Monument on fire and falling down, not running away from the tornado of molten magma while holding the President’s daughter, and certainly not forget the tears he felt as he saw Victor Laurens lose his fight with that monster that dared try to pass as man.

Reverse sighed,but let a small smile creep through. “Victor Laurens, you mad man. Here I thought I would never get to repay you for taking me off the streets.” Jade’s body began to stir, before settling again. A nightmare no doubt. Reverse reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, then slipped out a picture. It was of thirteen or so people with the caption at the bottom, “Laurens SHS.” Reverse smiled as he looked over the faces, and was happy he got to see some of them today. It was not often they got back together with each other. A group of misfits under their strong leader. His eyes strayed away from his friends and down to a face that was scribbled over. I wish I could say I missed all of us. As he was putting his picture back into his wallet, he noticed a pair of trimming scissors over on the desk of the nurse. After a few glances at it, then at Jade, Reverse retrieved the Scissors before getting to work.

“This” snip “is for” snip snip “your own” snip “good.”

Red swatches of hair began to slowly trickle down. Reverse was no hair stylist, but he was fairly good at copying. He began to look around for a reference until he saw Riley. He thought,”Good enough I supposed.”

After he was done, he sat down on the bed and waited. And when she awoke...

“Nice to see you awake.”

------------------------------------

Three days after the nurse’s office, Jade Laurens was getting dressed for her ‘extracurricular activity’. While she was trying to play it off like she didn’t want to go, and was only doing so because she wanted to gain better control of herself, she was excited. So it was when she got there that she was a bit confused. In the classroom, which would now be the clubroom once school ended, there were only five people. Turns out, not many wanted to excel at being a hero.

The desks were filled with the likes of John,a tall gangly dude she remembered is named Ricardo, Emily for some reason, and a very quiet girl she has never met before. Jade turned to also see Riley, who once she saw Jade’s new haircut gave a huge smile and a small laugh. “Didn’t know I made such an impact with my passing out next to you.” Jade’s face turned red and she quickly took a seat. Reverse was sitting on his desk, talking to the school nurse. They were talking about a bet or something it sounded like, the words “sandwich” and “you owe me”.

The tall kid walked over to where Jade sat down, and did his best to introduce himself. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met before, but i’m Ricardo and I can shoot bullets from my fingers.”

Jade’s eyes shone. “THAT’S SO COOL!” Ricardo was not expecting that response. “Really? No one ever says that! Whenever I tell them what I do, they always scoff at me and say ‘don’t go around the police’ or ‘bet that's how you got past the border’. Wow, I found one of the few non-racist people in this school!” Jade was about to respond back to him when Reverse coughed. “I believe this is all we are going to get today, so i’m going to begin. This class is going to be about getting stronger in your own abilities and growing to be 110%. I was originally going to have a cool slogan like ‘Go Beyond Plus Ultra’ but it turns out some school in Japan have copyright on that everywhere. Anyways, in order for me to teach you how to get stronger I have to do it via this ‘Combat for Sport’ kinda thing. So, the game plan is we’re going to win, we’re going to get strong, and we’re not going to sue the school or me because you all signed those waivers before coming here. Let’s begin, shall we?”

#FoF:og #writing #creative writing #original writing #original female character #original story #originalwriting #creative #superhero #superhero story

1 note · View note

queeniewritesce · 5 years

Text

Recommendations (1/2)

This was written for a @mrs-captain-evans 2,5K followers Writing Challenge. Congratulations on the milestone and here’s for 2,5K more!

I chose “Well, this is awkward…” as my prompt because as I was scrolling through the options the scene that particular scene just jumped at me.

Summary: Twitter is a strange place. But once in a while, you connect with someone.

Word count: 3,564

Warning: mild language, 35 seconds of angst, could be less if you read it fast.

Warning2: there will be a lot of Trump bashing at the beginning of this story. If you’re offended then maybe this isn’t a story you should read.

Author’s Note: All rules regarding verified accounts and how they behave were taken from Twitter.com.

It all started innocently enough.

Chris had opened Twitter to post a video of Dodger playing with his stuffed lion, knowing his dog was a fan favorite, when Trump decided to give his opinion on a National Geographic article about Global Warming.

GOD, he was a moron. A dumb, squinty-eyed, toupee wearing, orange moron. Chris seethed as he clicked on retweet with comment and called out the man he had the displeasure of calling President.

A few seconds later his notifications started to pop up. He switched tabs to Mentions and Replies where thousands of retweets with GIFs and other memes were pouring in before he filtered the tab so only verified accounts were shown. Mark retweeted his reply, Don wrote a snarky and an awesome comeback, Ellen Page tore the man a new one and an MIT professor he met during a flight home to Boston mentioned him and your account as prime examples of the generation who could make a change. He liked some favorites, retweeted a few others and was about to close the app when a new mention popped up, this time from your account, thanking your mentor and sharing a blurb about being cool because you were now linked to Captain America.

Curiosity got the best of him and Chris clicked on your handle. The header was a picture of Diagon Alley at the Warner Brother’s Harry Potter Tour in London and the picture to the side was of a woman dressed up as a Gryffindor student, wand, scarf and a pointed hat. He noticed you were also a verified account and your small bio read ‘Y/N, 30something.’, ‘You can be anything you aspire to be. I chose to be a nerd’ and ‘Director of Media Studies at MIT’.

That is an interesting combination, he thought while looking through your latest tweets. Chris immediately found your own retweet of the orange moron and he laughed when you called him a dweeb, deeming the man unworthy of being president of your dog’s agility class, much less president of your country. You also quoted him in a series of articles that could be found at the Congress Library website and citing other articles from different countries, asking him to please trade his Rich Richie comics for something an actual president needed to know ‘You know, like Obama’.

You had an incredibly sharp mind for a woman who spent her free time dressing up as a fictional character, he thought before shaking his head when he looked down at his costume. Yeah, better not judge.

Chris spent a good chunk of his downtime between takes that day going through your tweets. Every time his PA called him to block a new scene or to film a close-up, he would carefully lock the phone without closing the app so he wouldn’t have to scroll down again.

Later that day he was back on his trailer resting, they wouldn’t be going home that night till the first Thanos fight scene was over but he was now free of his Captain America clothes and could relax. He took a shower in the small trailer bathroom, put on a loose pair of boxers and picked up his phone again, opening the Twitter app, happy to see it was exactly where he left.

Chris was now looking at your tweets from two years ago. He scrolled down on some retweets, mostly articles about social media and its influence on people, thoughts about the latest Game of Thrones episode, a tweet about watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier again after the results of the presidential election and how it had changed your views of the movie and a trip to London to guest lecture on a seminar in Oxford, with a link to watch your lecture on Youtube. You’re funny, witty, and after watching your lecture on Book to Movies Adaptions: Bridging the Gap in the Fourth Dimension, he realized he was enthralled not only by your pretty eyes and lush lips but also with your mind.

He saw pictures of your adopted one-eyed blue merle Cardigan Welsh Corgi aptly named Captain Hook which you confessed was rarely used because you liked to call him Hooker, calling his name out loud around Cambridge Square just to get a reaction out of people. He laughed long and hard imagining you walking up and down Tudor Street asking if anyone had seen a one-eyed Hooker prancing around.

He worried his bottom lip for a moment before closing the app and opening up Safari quickly founding what he was looking for on his saved links. A new window opened and Twitter.com was now on his screen but instead of the usual @chrisevans handle, the account belonged to @BostonBrains81.

The Patriots logo stared back at him from the top of the page and a random shot of the crowd in one of the home games stood over a simple bio: Boston. Beer. Patriots.

The account he used to interact with his friends back home, like their baby pictures, sign in to various sites and go even crazier over the Patriots than he normally would on his main.

He looked nervously around his trailer before he searched for your handle, clicking the follow button before he lost his courage.

You are now following @Y/H

Was he really going through with this? His index finger hovered over the reply button on your latest tweet, the one where he was also mentioned.

“Ok Chris, you can do this.”

BostonBrains81 @Y/H you’re a lot cooler than Captain America. Wicked answer to the resident Oompa-Loompa, but I gotta ask, you think he knows how to read?

There, he did it.

That had been the first of the many 280 characters conversations you had with each other.

At first, you wondered if he was just a creep that followed you because Professor Travis mentioned you and Chris Evans on the same post; you had gained almost a thousand followers because of that, but they quickly unfollowed you when you didn’t gush about Chris Evans or they realized you didn’t actually know the actor. Not @BostonBrains81 though, he stuck around, commenting on some old articles you shared, liking all the pictures of Hooker you posted and even replied to the one where you shared his name asking if calling out for a Hooker in Cambridge had you stopped for solicitation at any point. You laughed at his joke and decided to follow him back.

The guy, you assumed it was a guy, was incredibly intelligent, always had a smart comeback to your jokes and could make you laugh in less than 100 characters. You shared most of the same views, from politics to music and books, the only point of contention was football. He was probably the biggest Patriots fan you had ever met and you being originally from the west coast was a Seattle Seahawks fan. He told you he had a working buddy who was a huge Seahawks fan as well and they had watched the Superbowl together in Arizona a few years back.

He’d ask you for a new book recommendation every few weeks and confessed his line of work had him waiting around quite a bit. You believed he was a flight attendant because he more than once replied to you from different parts of the country. You wondered if you should let him know the location settings were turned on.

You quickly got into a routine of checking his page to see if he was online that day and a little over two months since you first ‘talked’, you moved on to Direct Messages and conversation become more serious. Thoughts on religion, the #MeToo movement, gay rights, all were candidly discussed and you now actively sought his opinions on some of the subjects you taught your classes.

For a flight attendant, the man had some strong opinions and knew how to keep a conversation going. You chastised yourself for your classism, just because he had a blue-collar job didn’t mean he couldn’t have a sophisticated mind.

Some people are incredibly well educated and never set foot inside a college corridor, you remembered Professor Travis lecturing an advanced Media class you sat as his aide. Take Captain America for an example, I met the young man who portrays the superhero during a recent flight from Atlanta to Boston and I was highly impressed. He could very well be a post-doctorate student here, but he chose to follow his own footsteps to Hollywood and I thank him for it. I quite enjoy the dichotomy he brings to his portrayal of Captain America and Steve Rogers during The Winter Soldier and Civil War. If you haven’t, please watch those movies as we’ll be discussing them in our next class.

Professor Travis had been your theses supervisor and was one of your closest friends, even though he was thirty years your senior. The man had one of the sharpest minds you knew and his classes on Comic Books and the Juxtaposition to Modern Politics was always full, with a waiting list that never got any smaller. You usually sat those classes as his aide and he called on you often to share your views on what the media contributed to the political storm brewing on the horizon and what comic books contributed to that. Captain America had become one of Travis favorite subjects as of late, the whole Hydra and Nazis making a comeback after the last presidential election.

The fact Chris Evans engaged in politics and wasn’t afraid to speak up his mind played a huge part in why you started following him after Professor Travis met the guy. Sure, the man was eye candy to your often-tired eyes but he had a lot to offer than just those huge biceps, that amazing tight ass, and that soft-looking facial hair. You got a kick of his self-deprecating humor and once or twice you had jointed down a few books he mentioned and truly enjoyed them.

It was a really nice coincidence @BostonBrains81 had read them as well.

By the end of summer you were feeling lonely and thinking of asking another professor out. You wanted a male opinion on the idea, preferably one not in the same circle of friends and your best online friend was just the person to ask.

Well, does he make you feel nervous?

No, why would he made me feel nervous? He’s a very nice guy.

See, if you’re not nervous around him that means he doesn’t make you feel anything. If you don’t feel anything for the guy, why waste your time? And a nice guy? God, that’s the worst thing a woman can say about a man. A nice guy is as bad as saying a girl is okay. Is she beautiful? Meh, she’s okay. Does he melt your insides? Meh, he’s a very nice guy.

Seems like you gave this a lot of thought.

I’ve had more girlfriends than… jobs. When I broke up with the last one, I decided to wait for the right woman instead of getting into another destined to fail relationship. There’s no shame in stepping back and deciding you’re worthy of more than just an okay girl.

Or a nice guy.

Exactly.

Being alone is not easy though. We jump from one relationship to the next because we’re already used to the normalcy of having that steady presence in our lives. It doesn’t matter if we know that person isn’t right for us or they might even be prejudicial for us in the long run. The relationship fills a void we don’t like, that feeling there’s something wrong with us because we can’t maintain a partner.

Who let you in my head when I wasn’t looking?

Sorry for getting too deep.

You’re absolutely right though.

Thanks for the talk, no dates with nice guys from now on.

Don’t go for the bad guys either.

Well, that considerably narrows the option pool. Who am I dating then?

How about me?

Good one funny boy.

What’s wrong with me?

Barring the fact that I don’t even know your real name and you could very well be catfishing me, not much.

Catfishing?

You know, trying to make me believe you’re someone you’re not.

You there?

Sorry. Yeah, I’m definitely not trying to make you believe I’m anyone but myself. Name’s Chris by the way.

Nice to meet you, Chris, I’m Y/N.

Your conversations with @BostonBrains81, better yet, Chris, were now a daily occurrence and included questions about your daily lives and personal family stuff, Chris had three siblings, the youngest had been adopted and you spent a whole afternoon discussing the effects of adoptions on both the family and the child, you commended his parents for going through the processes and he opened his heart about normalizing the girl when she first came to live with them but now she was his favorite sister and he couldn’t imagine life without Shanna in it. He told you about moving away from home at eighteen to pursue his dream job, you shared how difficult adapting to Boston was at first but how you couldn’t see yourself living anywhere else now. He confided in you his work had him burned out a little and how much he missed home. Since his location had been stationed in Atlanta for the past three weeks, you deduced he worked for Delta Airlines.

Hey, you there? Can we talk?

Sure, I’m just lounging, you good?

I’m still at work, everyone is being a dick today and I’m having a hard time coping, plus I’m tired and a little cranky.

I’m sorry. Coworkers can be a pain in the ass sometimes, no matter what the field. Have you tried the exercises you told me about?

Yes. More than once. They seem to work for a while but then I have to head back in and someone else decides it’s his turn to be a dick. And now the… execs are here and they want to change some of the stuff that’s already done so that means more work and more dick-headed people all around.

When it’s your turn?

Uh?

Well, since everyone is having a bad day, why can’t you lash out? Be a dick too?

It’s never my turn. Chris is always the good guy, Chris is never a diva.

You don’t need to be a diva to demand respect. Demand respect while being respectful, but put your foot down. The old you get more flies with honey. Do you need to be there?

I’m supposedly done for the day.

So go home, take a bath, sleep in clean sheets. I know how hard it is to turn off work, sometimes I stay in my office for hours after I’m my shift, but it’s not healthy. If they truly need you, they know where to find you.

They do yeah.

Go home, Chris. Pass on the shield.

What?

Like Captain America did in the comics. Let someone else do the job.

Oh. Okay, yeah, that makes sense.

I make a lot of sense when I’m drinking wine.

So your advice comes from your inebriated mind?

I’m hardly inebriated. It’s one glass of wine while reading a book in the bathtub. This is my me time.

I’m sorry for interrupting your naked me time. Thanks for the visual though, it’ll help me with my own time when I get home.

Go home, Chris. It’s the wine’s order.

You were now on a territory you swore you’d never slipped into; flirting with a stranger online. You tried to talk yourself out of it, tried to curb this insane idea manifesting inside your head and your heart, you were a scholar for goodness sake, you taught your students to never engage romantically online, therefore, you should know better.

You most certainly didn’t.

I’d like to take you out for coffee sometime, you could show me around MIT.

Maybe. When you get back from Atlanta, let me know.

How do you know I’m in Atlanta?

Your location setting is turned on.

Is it? Damn.

Yeah, I should have told you sooner. Working for Delta Airlines must nice though.

Yeah… I guess. Blue collar job though.

Don’t be like that, you should not be ashamed of what you do for a living. If it makes you happy, it’s all that matters.

You’re right, I’m pretty happy doing what I do. So, coffee?

Sure. I usually get my caffeine fix from ‘Bean there, Doughnut That’ over at Arrow St. It’s always full of students.

Smart girl, going for a place where you can find a friendly face if we don’t get along.

That, and you could be a serial killer, I need witnesses to remember your face. It’s not like I *really* know you.

I look forward to changing that. I’ll be home after Columbus Day. Could we meet then?

Yes, sure. I want to finally put a face to the man I’ve talking for the past four months. It’s a date.

A date uh? I like that. I like that very much. I hope you like my face when you see it, I kinda have an ugly mug.

I’m sure your face is fine. Besides, I already like your personality and that’s the part I always have trouble with.

Checking Twitter had become your new guilty pleasure and you’d close the app with a frown if Chris didn’t post anything every few days, exactly what was happening right now.

He had been offline for a whole week and you missed your usual banter, his witty sense of humor and how he took to calling you Professor Hottie. The Patriots lost the second game of the season and you wanted to gloat a little but most of all you just wanted to know if he was okay.

Biting your lip, you clicked on the direct message button.

Been a while since you’ve been online, did you get lost on the way back from Boston Market?

I see that you turned off your location sharing. Was I being too stalkerish?

I guess you’re busy or maybe you just don’t want to talk to me. I’ll leave you be.

Had you come on too strong? Did you sounded desperate and scared him off? You read your past conversations and nothing sounded too eager on your part, maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore.

Well, that was that.

You sighed and refreshed your home page one last time, checking your latest tweets and was surprised to see a new Tweet from Chris Evans, another Chris who had been MIA lately.

ChrisEvans Officially wrapped on Avengers 4. It was an emotional day, to say the least. Playing this role over the last 8 years has been an honor. To everyone in front of the camera, behind the camera, and in the audience, thank you for the memories! Eternally grateful.

Interacting with celebrities were never really your thing but you would miss Captain America, you were sure they would have to kill him if Evans would not play the iconic soldier anymore, so you took a chance and clicked on reply.

Y/H @chrisevans thanks for making Cap cool again, you made him justice and gave the tired soldier a new and improved multifaceted personality. We’re gonna miss him.

Satisfied with your chosen words you smiled as you hit send. You got a few likes notification right away, some of your students and MIT faculty retweeted your post, Professor Travis included.

ChrisEvans @y/h thank you. Having people like you and @TravisMIT giving Cap your stamp of approval certainly makes me think I did a good job.

Wide eyes blinked back to the screen when you read his response. He not only thanked you but for some reason he held your opinion to a higher standard? How was that possible?

Your mentions exploded with people asking you similar questions and you had to switch to verified account only to stop the barrage of notifications for new tweets coming through.

Your phone beeped with a new direct message and a small glimpse of hope that your Chris was back made you forget about Evans.

Hey, sorry for the disappearance act, work has been crazy lately. You’re definitely not stalkerish, that title actually belongs to yours truly but I’ll tell you more over coffee. Don’t ever think I don’t want to talk to you, our conversations are the highlight of my days. I missed you a lot these past ten days.

You cocked your head side to side while reading the message, twice, three times, trying to understand exactly what was going on. You should be happy, it was exactly what you wanted to read after being ghosted for over a week.

There was only one problem. The DM did not come from @BostonBrains81. It came from @ChrisEvans.

You hovered your mouse over the reply button but your brain was short-circuiting. You started and deleted dozens of replies, none of them conveying what you were feeling well enough. Deceived. Betrayed.

New direct messages appeared one after the other.

Well, this is awkward…

I can explain.

Please talk to me.

Look, I was stupid for not telling you sooner but doesn’t change how I feel about you. Can we talk? Please?

You’re now blocking @ChrisEvans.

You’re now blocking @BostonBrains81

#Chris Evans Fanfic #Chris Evans Fan Fic #Chris Evans Fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #mrs-captain-evans #writting challenge

63 notes · View notes

twice-the-twice-love · 5 years

Text

Dammit Sako Fic and Art under the cut

Ao3 link

4.4K words

Jin x Sako

Season 4 spoilers for BNHA

He had the best of rash intentions. Jumping to be the first one in action after Twice brought a deranged gangster, killer to the base. Sako was not the youngest but not outdated like that man was. He barely heard Shigaraki call out for him to stop but he was in motion now and was not going to be easily stopped. He was just going to keep his alliance members safe.

“This guy’s bad news! I’ll imprison him!”

He felt a small hint on his side almost like another small miniscule chunk of this abandoned place’s ceiling was falling down then he was there beside Overhaul hand on the man and his quirk failed him. Very faintly under his breath that the only two who could guess what he said was Overhaul and himself, “I can’t activate it.”

There was the tones of distraught in his voice as he spoke but it was drowned out by the rage and utter disgust in the other man’s shout, “Don’t touch me!”

With a sweep of an arm Sako found himself in a world of blinding pain no thought behind his scream. That was instinct as he stumbled and fell back trying to push himself from the gangster falling on his left side and writhing in pain. His body wanting to do nothing more than curl into the fetal position and to just have this nightmare stopped. Sako still managed push away and push up as Shigaraki dashed right past him.

His blood was pumping in his ears as the world was becoming fuzzy as he felt a warm wet sensation on his side, under his mask his mouth falling open as he tried to breathe through it all. He made it another few feet before he felt someone grab under one of his arms and around his waist. He saw darkness no matter where he looked and then heard Twice shout out, “I’ll fucking kill you! You bastard!”

Twice was so loud it seemed but then he focused on the man beside him and saw the colours on his outfit, “Twice could you-”

“Make him take Responsibility!” Twice sounded coherent but close to breaking. Almost like he was fighting back tears, now that would be a sight to see.

The pain was intense but the adrenalin was slowly leaving his system and he could hear the others talk, though what good it did him was not something he needed to dwell on now. They must have left because Twice was back to looking at him and trying to get Sako to look him in the eyes despite both of them hiding behind masks, “Compress? Come on I am going to help you.”

He wished Twice gave more of a warning before practically lifting him to his feet. He moved his arm and a bit out to stabilize himself but then could not stop the whine or sucking air through his teeth to stop himself from screaming at the pain, “Twice please I can walk, it was just-”

No one expected him to say it yet. If anyone spoke it, then this nightmare might become a reality. He took a few steps towards the opposite exit and then felt Twice move beside him and tried to make Sako lean on him the non wet side, “If you can walk can you run?”

Sako nodded dully and picked up the pace feeling Twice steadying him to keep him moving. Though he let out a small whimper of pain when some strands of his coat touched the exposed nerves in his arm then collapsed. Twice was right beside him. Ripping off his tape measure and constricting it around the top part of the remnants of his arm. Painfully so as he knew he tried to move away. Twice held him there carefully moving would make it worse. Things that would scar do that. Thought the scars would be very different but still change a man.

“Twice it’s a little tight.” He grit his teeth together and let his leg bounce as the man moved closer locking him down from running away, “What are-”

It dissolved into a groan as Twice pushed his bleeding stump up, “Keep it up Mr. Compress.”

“Shut up Twice.” Sako grumbled as Twice gently this time helped him stand up and start to move. The arm was still in great pain and was throbbing dully.

“Can you walk?” Twice asks again more force in his voice as he goes back to supporting Sako.

Sako nods and mumbles out, “I can walk, I’m fine.”

Toga was talking to Shigaraki who had to be held back from chucking a dagger at the gangsters, “Stop looking for revenge and we have to get moving everyone come-”

Shigaraki looked at the fresh blood splatter that was very recently big sis. Twice was still moving with the teammate that was still with them as they were at the door. Shigaraki saw Toga running to catch up but he stopped and saw the card by his foot. Looking at it carefully, it was a show of power, and what that to of date gangster said made sense. They needed his resources or to remove the competition.

One last glance at the group leaving was enough to show their motivation for this assignment. He was slower moving towards Magnes gear and gently moved the magnet away from the pooling blood placing his hand on her pants letting her not be bound in half a body, letting her be free. Just as she wanted all along. In the fading distance he heard Twice swear and he knew he should be there for the shaken team as well.

“Fucking come on Mr Compress!” Twice was frantic more so than usual, and hearing it all set in for Sako as he was panting and having trouble keeping up. Twice kept up an unforgiving pace as he half dragged half carried him.

“Twice slow… down.” Sako asked hoping the mans first name would get him to listen, “Jin.”

Twice gently shook his head and just grasped Sako under the arm and pushed forwards. Toga was right beside him and moved ahead of the pair pushing against the door, “Twicey be nice to him.”

Jin looked ahead but Toga and Sako could see the worried glances and Sako knew that this was being done for his own good. He just had to keep telling himself that as they moved. With no Dabi there was no quick fix to these injuries it seemed. Though Sako did hate to be reliant on those high school dropouts even when they are nice to an old man like himself. They had better sense to themselves too it seems.

Shigaraki caught up with them and saw Toga with her phone out she was getting Giran to tell them where to take Sako but Twice looked like he knew where he was going, “Come on Compress, a few more blocks then you can rest for a bit.”

Twice looked as he heard leather scraping on the pavement glancing to see Sako was practically leaning on him head dropping as Jin dragged him. Jin say Sako’s hat drop off his head and he knew more action had to be taken, “Sako! Sako come on.”

Jin stopped and gently tried re-arranging Sako so he could start to pick him up. Shigaraki saw Jin stop and scratched the side of his neck, “You can’t stop he is losing too much blood Twice hurry the fuck up!”

Jin almost thought about flipping his boss off but then decided against it as Sako was needing him more. He slipped his hand under the man's leg and knew that under any other circumstance there might have been a bridal style joke for them being a couple but no one really felt like cracking a joke. Jin started running with Sako in his arms not caring what was happening to his suit or even his mask at this point.

“Toga run ahead tell them we got an emergency!”

Toga nodded and was just barely outpacing Twice who was running hearing the man groan in his arms and muttering to himself.

“I can walk, I’m fine he says. Fucking idiot!”

Shigaraki moved ahead knowing right now there was no way to fix this problem by him lagging behind. It was not like he could help carry Compress, if he slipped up one bit then they would be down <em>another- they would be down another person today and it would be his fault.</em> He sniffled and gently pushed father out of his face to rub angrily at his nose with his sleeve shoving the hand in his kangaroo pouch grabbing other hands off his coat so they would not draw extra attention.

Jin made sure Sako’s remnants of an arm was pointing up the tape measure was leaving an indent in the skin but it was helping slow down the blood flow. Though not enough it seemed. Jins tone was even quieter somehow looking down he whispered to the unconscious man, “You can't go now. Curtains not closing yet. Please don't leave Sako.”

Sako did vaguely hear Jin. Some part that was trying to not be a damn damsel in distress but fuck did this hurt. He tilted his head so it was not lolling like a corpse and looked up at Jin then sae the arm, “Overhaul had quite a magic trick Jin don't you say?”

“Yes that bastard has a quirk alright.” Jin nodded. He was glad Sako was up for talking at this point. He stopped when he felt Sakos good arm grab him, “Sako what-?”

“We have to talk to him again.”

“What!” Twices voice rang out as he slowed down wondering if Sako was already getting delusional, “We have to go back!”

“I seem to have lost my hat Jin.” Sako said giving a smile that was not going to show under the mask, nor world the grimace of pain from moving. Though the gasp and arched back seemed to show that.

Jin let out some nervous laughter that edged on crying at this point as he picked up pace, “Toga lost it.”

Toga hearing her name looked back at Twice and Compress and saw that Compress was awake at this point heading back to the pair as Shigaraki ran ahead, “Hey whats the-”

Mr. Compress heard the girl and looked over and saw his hat in her hands and stared at it dumbly for a few seconds before trying to shift in Twice’s arms and let out a shriek of agony as he processed what just happened to his arm feeling a sickening bile rising up in his throat. He leaned back into Twice his legs trying to move to free himself but that writhing only brought more pain to him. He swallowed and felt Twice hold him closer to stop him from moving to some extent. He saw blinding light as Twice removed his mask his comfort but he guessed it was for vitals or something.

“Almost there Sako. Then you can rest. Just a bit further you moron-” Jin kept up the mantra but Sako couldn’t hear it anymore. There was shouting and a lot more going on than he hoped for. The place they were supposed to go was closed. Sako felt Jins hands wrap around him more pulling him painfully close.

A few more shouts then they were off again Shigaraki leading the charge. Spinner running into traffic trying to get someone to get out of the car. Twice was quicker in going to the side of the car and breaking the window with his elbow a flick of the wrist had the measuring tape around someones neck and he pulled till there was no more problem. Togaw was reaching in the window to get the car locks. Shigaraki and Spinner argued on who got to drive but none of that mattered.

Sako to be safe Jin positioned him between his thighs and held him there as Spinner started to drive off. Sakos arm in the air and Sako felt his heartstrings pull a bit. Being jostled slightly back and forth was the only reason he was awake at all. He grabbed onto Jins suit the fabric straining under the nails his glove lost some time ago, Twi-”

“Shh shhh keep up your strength Mister C.” Twice communicates slowly his mask off and he looks down. He sees Jin mouth something then shove the mask back on.

Sako let his eyes close as his vision swam, “I don’t want to die.”

The car went oddly quiet after that. Sako heard his heartbeat flush with the world as he focused on breathing and holding onto Twice. Spinner focused on the road and Shigaraki stopped his commentary. Toga who was curled up in the corner of the car found something to look to in the distance. No one wanted to let that happen but they had their limits they were afraid Sako was at his.

Sako felt warm breath on him the hands moved to hold him closer, “It’s okay. I got you.” Sako felt the hug deepen, his head sinking to the crook of Jins arm. This might not have been the best way to go, but it would not be the worst.

“You are going to be alright. I promise Sako.” Jin said to the man who couldn’t hear now.

He was in and out of conscience as he was rushed to some blinding white room and felt them stick him with something before waking up in a dingy motel room on a bed with most of the mess pushed to the side of the room.

He still felt woozy but he had no idea what day or time it was because the blinds were down on him. He slowly tried to sit up but halfway through he saw one hand out of the corner of his eye and decided to lay back down. A few minutes later he heard noise on the other side of the door he could feel his quirk in his arm again. Just the one arm though. He let out small cough before speaking up, “Hello?”

He heard the noise from the other room and the door handle slowly opened, “Your asleep? Awake?”

“I do think I am at least.”

It was good to have a normal Twice conversation at least. The door opened and Sako saw through his mask to see Twice in a plain tank top and pants of a sorts. Blonde hair with an almost alarming scar that was supposedly hidden under that mask of his. Twice often left little to the imagination with that spandex suit, but he was glad the other man had some muscle to be able to have carried him.

Twice carried him to the hospital then the car to a different hospital, he remembered that, he started to look away from Twice but the man spoke up trying to get him talking, “Well you need the rest. It's important Mr. Compress that you get some rest.”

He had never seen Twice so distressed before. And never thought that the loud personality from the day previous could be quiet. Though it was nice but he didn't need his team worrying about him. He was a grown man at least. He pushed at the blankets and deftly moved to the right hand side standing up and then sitting back down as the blood rushed to his head.

Twice looked somehow even more worried but went down to his knees and looked up at Sako. He decided to talk first, “Twice. I just woke up I think I might be able to do something.”

They both had a moment of silence before Twice looked away, “Pushing yourself is not going to help Sako.”

“Are we going by last names now Bubaigawara?” It was formal for the both of them as professionals, and not whatever last night was. He broke being professional when be called the man Jin but that was a spur of the-? Twice was talking, and here he was zoning out.

“- it is fine if you want to say Jin instead. Bit easier to say.” Jin ended off the statement with a scratch on the back of his head. Sako might have blamed what whatever he should have been given but Jin almost looked nervous.

“Jin. How long have I been out?”

Those grey eyes met his own and then Sako almost on instinct looked away seeing some makeshift IV stand he followed the little line to his wrist and then found his way to look back at Jin, “How long?”

“About thirteen hours since you made it to the doctors, ten hours since I brought you here.” Jin admits plainly standing up almost looking like he was about to bite his tongue, “Lie, back, down.”

Slow and calculated words, nothing like the Twice he had come to know. Was it all an act he put on? Sako knew he was not the only one to wonder that when they heard him focus on a subject and the statements he made were added in like he remembered he did that. Though the worry and the reminder of what happened coupled with the blood beginning to pound in his ears again he had to agree with Jin. He saw Jin fiddle with some of the supplies.

“What are you doing Jin?”

“Just... trying to get you some relief.”

It was working. Sako felt the bit of relief that was given to him from the drug cocktail but it was a simple muscle relaxant at this point but anything more and it would have been knocking him out. He let out a sigh, “Jin would it be possible to get something to eat?”

Jin was damn near silent in his own home Sako guessed since Jin got up and left the room. How different this man was… Sako didn’t want to be zoning out but it was guessed to be expected since he- he gulped and looked to his left. There is wasn’t it. His arm was gone.

He felt his a stub and nearly threw up whatever was left in his stomach. His mind started to race and he wished he had his mask or was able to put it on easily if he could do it at all. No. He had to get those thoughts out of his mind but he would have to confront them sooner rather than later. Staring straight ahead he almost found the courage to chance looking at it again but then Jin walked in with some dark toast with probably too much butter on it.

“Thank you Jin for this.” Sako almost let a dramatic tear fall from his eye as he saw the toast was cut into little triangles, “This is adorable.”

“No problem Sako just glad to help.” Jin glares not at Sako but around the man and Sako does pick up on those subtle movements.

Before he could ask anything Jin stands up and leaves. It was different being left alone, it really was no matter how Sako put it, this made him realize how much Twice was often in the leagues faces in a good way. The man was close and full of energy but Sako knew something was different here but accepted that as Jin’s personal life.

Sako finished the food quickly. He was hungrier that he had known but as he was just down an arm not paralyzed in bed he could go and get some food with Jins help. There was a moment's pause when he stood up and removed the IV from his arm and despite feeling woozy he moved to the door, reaching across his body to open the door as he turns the doorknob.

The door opened and the smell of mid price smokes wafted to him as he scanned the dirty other room. Strewn all over the room were some beer can, mostly filled ashtrays, some chaos of general disorganization from someone living there. Permanently without getting cleaners to service the place. He saw Jin’s back as the man looked out the window, “Jin?”

The man turned around at Sako, “You’re up. How are you feeling?”

Sako was surprised to see Jin with the mask on in his own home. Sako looked at Jin with some wonderment as he took a step back to the other room, “Are we about to be attacked?”

Jins eyes widened as he looked back out to the street, then to Sako, “Yeah we are under attack. No we are safe why you asking Sako?” There was confidence and confusion in the mans words and this was the Jin that he had known. The Jin with the mask.

“I must still be out of it, sorry for causing concern.”

Jin was moving closer to Sako and started to gently ask what Sako needed pulling the mask down. Jin cleared part of the only other sitting space and tossed about what Sako guessed was the only other clean article in the apartment over the area as it was instantly covered with reammants with soot, “Thank you Jin for this.”

Jin placed down some chopped microwavable meal so that it only needed a single hand to eat with. He watched Jin go back to a smoke and look out to the street again. Was this what he did in the morning, or was it all day. The difference was still astounding him or it was the only thing he could focus on at his point. When Jin turned on the television to have background noise to some sitcom. Sako kept watch as Jin pulled another smoke eventually rolling his mask off after the second smoke finished he tried to start a conversation with him desperate to talk and distract himself.

“Why are you so quiet at home?”

Jin looked at Sako and let out a small sigh, “It’s pretty loud here most times. Don’t stop talking most mornings. Just keep up the conversations as it happens.”

“Are you always alone Jin?” Sako asked and as the words came out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t have asked. His mask hid his face but Jin’s managed to show everything he was thinking.

“Better this way, place is barely meant for one permanent resident it’s worse here.”

What Jin said was right, he almost fell off the bed and Jin was leaning against the counter while Sako had the only seat in the room. He wanted to ask Jin more but there was a distinct look on the mans face that it was not something to talked about though the conversation was here, “Well what is in the area at least?”

“Few things a nice shop or two. It’s horrible everything thats happening, fake little gangs getting on the leagues coattails. We have inspired the masses and now they are trying to make it big but we- we got to… sort through them better.” Jin was animated for a moment before the understanding of his words got to him, “We will sort through them better I swear.”

“Jin which part of the city do you used to live in?”

Jin started to look anxious at the questions into his past and before he could say something. Sako waved some toast crust in front of him, “I am sorry. Just want to distract myself. Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

Jin thought for a few moments about what they could do right now and then just shrugged, “I am not as loud outside the league. But we can try to find a common ground, like any movies?”

Ahhh, yes. The commonplace that people love to talk about, movies and other little nonsensical things that can make a person up. Though he did not think that was anything good for him to start with, Sako let it slide.

“I often watch theater performances when I am not attending to league or personal business. I guess you find it easier to walk about because you often have that mask of yours on as you do league work. Though I do think I can hide a bit now from heroes, they are looking for two handed villains.” Sako saw the crestfallen look on Jins face before he realized the statement he said. There was a moment he thought that whatever was given to him was nice and it felt nice. He looked away, “Gallows humor I suppose is already hitting me.”

“Sako just take things easy. Though theater would be your thing I suppose.” Jin responds taking the mask off his face to be open, “Musical theater?”

“If you are asking if I like the sound of mucus, I can tell you the answer is no. Though some smaller musicals are more my taste. I do not like big budget sing alongs.” Sako smiles as he sees Jin move to the small movie cabinet.

“I have a recorded copy of chess.” Jin offers to Sako who raised his eyebrows, “It is some political drama with music and chess games it's horrible bullshit.”

Sako still had no idea why Jin said things wrong and at some part it worried him but that was because the distressed look that passed over Jins face as well at the statement was not usually a way to make someone at ease, “I think a show would be nice. And thank you for this Twice.”

“Just youtube old man.” Twice says scratching at his neck a bit much rubbing it raw. He dropped the hand.

Sako could say that the man was a silent film to watch. The scar suggest tragedy, something that could have been better. The lifestyle said drama, to thriller. Romantic at heart? Sako shook his head and nearly tapped his stub to his head as he was about to massage his temple. He was remembering last night that was not something he wanted to remember. Or did he?

Jin got the laptop set up had a wire for it to plug into the screen so it was a bit bigger. He pulled out a smoke and lit it to used to many days of his morning ritual. The sounds filtered in gently as Sako watched Twice look at the world. Mask on and off his head. This is a good distraction until things can change.

Sako leaned back and knew there is time to do many things like get the arm. Possibly a bit more food, and discover whatever happened to Jin Bubaigawara to make him into this man of today.

#bnha #mha #manga spoilers #jin x sako #twice x compress #twice bnha #mr compress #twice #bnha twice #sako atsuhiro #atsuhiro sako #sako #jin #jin bubaigawara #selwyn writes

12 notes · View notes

bountyofbeads · 5 years

Text

It’s not just the Russians anymore as Iranians and others turn up disinformation efforts ahead of 2020 vote

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2019/07/25/its-not-just-russians-anymore-iranians-others-turn-up-disinformation-efforts-ahead-vote/

It’s not just the Russians anymore as Iranians and others turn up disinformation efforts ahead of 2020 vote

(Of course it's not just the Russians!! Other countries see how successful the Russian government was in their disinformation campaign so why wouldn't other countries try it.)

By Craig Timberg and Tony Romm | Published July 25 at 5:29 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted July 26, 2019

A recent tweet from Alicia Hernan — whose Twitter account described her as a wife, mother and lover of peace — did not mince words about her feelings for President Trump: “That stupid moron doesn’t get that that by creating bad guys, spewing hate filled words and creating fear of ‘others’, his message is spreading to fanatics around the world. Or maybe he does.”

That March 16 tweet, directed to a Hawaii congressman, was not the work of an American voter venting her frustration. The account, “@AliciaHernan3,” was what disinformation researchers call a “sock puppet” — a type of fictitious online persona used by Russians when they were seeking to influence the 2016 presidential election.

But it was Iranians, not Russians, who created @AliciaHernan3, complete with a picture of a blonde woman with large, round-framed glasses and a turtleneck sweater. It was one of more than 7,000 phony accounts from Iran that Twitter has shut down this year alone.

And Iran is far from the only nation that has, within its borders, substantial capacity to wage Russian-style influence operations in the United States ahead of next year’s election. That means American voters are likely to be targeted in the coming campaign season by more foreign disinformation than ever before, say those studying such operations.

Former special counsel Robert S. Mueller III echoed the consensus of independent researchers in his congressional testimony Wednesday, saying of Russian online political interference: “It wasn’t a single attempt. They’re doing it as we sit here, and they expect to do it the next campaign.” He added that “many more countries” had developed similar capabilities, based in part on the Russian playbook. A new Senate Intelligence Committee report released Thursday found that Russia began targeting the U.S. election system in 2014 and concluded that the attacks had continued into 2017.

A short list of countries that host online influence operations with a history of interfering across borders includes Saudi Arabia, Israel, China, the United Arab Emirates and Venezuela, researchers say.

They say it’s often not clear exactly who runs these operations — whether it’s the governments themselves or other actors — but that they typically echo the talking points of the ruling powers and back their geopolitical goals through tweets, posts and online videos. Operations in all of these countries, meanwhile, have the means and potentially the motives to seek to influence a U.S. election shaping up as among the most hotly contested in decades.

The influence operations in these countries, however, do not all share Russia’s demonstrated preference for Trump and other Republicans. The Iranians, for example, typically oppose Trump in their disinformation messaging, criticizing his decision to pull the United States out of the 2015 nuclear deal with Iran and administration policy on other issues, including Israel and the civil wars in Yemen and Syria, research shows.

“Multiple foreign actors have demonstrated an ability and willingness to leverage these kinds of influence operations in pursuit of their geopolitical goals,” said Lee Foster, head of the intelligence team investigating information operations for FireEye, a cybersecurity firm based in California. “We risk the U.S. information space becoming a free-for-all for foreign interference if, as a society, we fail to get an effective grasp on this problem.”

Researchers for FireEye and other firms have reported suspected Iranian disinformation on most major social media platform — Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Google+ and others — and on stand-alone websites, as well. In May, FireEye also alleged that U.S. news sites may have been tricked into publishing letters to the editor penned by Iranian operatives.

The firm’s analysis spotted a number of instances where letters in newspapers in Virginia and Texas appeared to share similar characteristics to accounts on Twitter believed to be part of an Iran-based disinformation network. FireEye also catalogued fictitious Twitter personas used by Iranians that included a Harvard University student, a Michigan bodybuilder and an Iranian American woman from Seattle.

Some Iranian Twitter accounts, FireEye found, even sought to impersonate U.S. political candidates, including a California Republican who ultimately lost the general election for Congress. That account tweeted about the confirmation hearing for U.S. Supreme Court Justice Brett M. Kavanaugh and a British royal wedding before beginning to promote Iranian interests, including tweets condemning the Saudis’ killing of Washington Post contributing columnist Jamal Khashoggi.

Some Iranian disinformation accounts, some of which were affiliated with state-controlled news operations, date back several years, but they have grown steadily more sophisticated. Twitter, Facebook and Google all have identified and taken offline accounts from Iran over the past year for engaging in coordinated, deceptive behavior.

“As part of our public archive of information operations, we have disclosed thousands of accounts and millions of Tweets originating in Iran that we have proactively removed,” said Yoel Roth, Twitter’s head of site integrity. “Every year is an election year on Twitter, and we will be applying all of our global learnings to protect and enhance conversations around the 2020 election.”

The Iranian tactics differ somewhat from those of the Russians, who through the Internet Research Agency in St. Petersburg infiltrated the online conversations of a wide range of U.S. political groupings — immigration hard-liners, African Americans, veterans, evangelical Christians, environmentalists — with messages attuned to the way those communities already were speaking among themselves on major online platforms.

The Iranian operations detected so far tend to lack that complexity, with messaging typically on a single side of an issue in line with government policy goals — countering Israel, for example — as opposed to multiple ones.

But there are clear signs of shifting tactics in the accounts identified by Twitter, Facebook and other companies so far. What’s known, researchers say, may be only small parts of much larger operations that remain undetected.

“The Iranian operations were a wake-up call to remind us that the Russians were not the only ones doing information operations,” said Camille François, chief innovation officer for Graphika, a network analysis firm based in New York that studies online disinformation.

Graphika found that among one set of 1,666 Iranian accounts taken down by Twitter in June, about 1 in 4 tweets were in English. Trump was mentioned more than 1,400 times — almost always in critical ways — with this anti-Trump tweeting peaking in early 2017, in the months around when he took office.

Researchers say that both the U.S. government and social media companies have grown more aggressive in battling online disinformation since the 2016 presidential election.

Cooperation between the FBI and Silicon Valley has improved markedly. U.S. Cyber Command blocked Internet access to Russian disinformation teams during the congressional midterm vote in November 2018, scrambling operations. Some researchers express hope that this rising aggressiveness may thwart — or at least deter — some foreign-based influence operations from interfering in future U.S. elections.

All of the major social media companies also have established teams devoted to combating disinformation, typically by identifying and shutting down networks of fictitious foreign-based accounts on an increasingly large scale.

This shift has been dramatic since 2016, when the companies saw foreign threats mainly in terms of traditional cybersecurity — hacks and bugs — as opposed to influence operations conducted by foreign adversaries with substantial resources. The Russian disinformation campaign in 2016 spent more than $1 million a month, Mueller reported in an indictment last year against the Internet Research Agency.

As social media companies crack down, the tactics of disinformation teams rapidly shift to improve operational security and more effectively evade detection. FireEye, for example, was able to identify some apparently fake Iranian accounts last year because contact numbers for supposed American Twitter users had the +98 country code from Iran, a tactical mistake operatives are unlikely to make again.

But among independent researchers and some lawmakers, significant skepticism remains on whether enough has been done to prepare for the threat in 2020.

“In 2016, Russia used bots and fake accounts to launch an unprecedented social media campaign designed to influence the results of our presidential election,” said Sen. Mark R. Warner (Va.), the top Democrat on the Senate Intelligence Committee. “That playbook is out in the open now, and you can bet that unless the platform companies get their acts together, we’re going to see more and more foreign-based actors using it to wreak havoc in our democratic process.”

The nations hosting significant disinformation capabilities typically first saw them active in seeking to manipulate domestic audiences, shaping public perceptions in line with regime propaganda. The next step often was working regionally, by infiltrating online conversations in neighboring countries, as Russia did in Ukraine in 2014 as it annexed Crimea and fomented unrest elsewhere in the country.

Disinformation teams in Iran initially developed their tactics while manipulating domestic political conversation before gradually expanding operations to include more languages, more themes and foreign targets.

Human rights lawyer Simin Kargar, of Harvard’s Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society, said Iran for years has harassed journalists, political dissidents and artists in its internal disinformation campaigns. She has watched as Iran increasingly deployed such tactics against foreign targets.

“I would be surprised if the Iranians weren’t trying to expand their operations for the coming election, especially with the rising tensions between Iran and the United States,” Kargar said. “They would be far more savvy by 2020.”

Disinformation teams in Saudi Arabia have worked both internally and to manipulate other Gulf states, including in the nation’s struggle with rival Qatar, said researcher Marc Owen Jones, an assistant professor of Middle East studies at Hamad bin Khalifa University in Doha, the capital of Qatar. He said tactics in Saudi Arabia typically involve both sock puppets and automated accounts, called “bots,” echoing official government propaganda, including things said or tweeted by Trump.

Jones recently detailed in a series of tweets an apparent information operation emanating from Saudi Arabia following a visit to the White House this month by Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, the emir of Qatar. Jones found a single tweet, “The Prince of Qatar a supporter of terrorism, should not be in the White House but be at Guantanamo,” had been posted up to 800 times an hour over several days, from 2,582 unique accounts. The tweets mostly were directed at U.S.-based targets, including Trump, the CIA and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, and at several news organizations, including Fox News, Reuters and The Washington Post.

“There’s still this pro-Trump message coming from Saudi Twitter, and I don’t think that’s likely to change,” Jones said. “They view Trump’s reelection as key to their own survival.”

A spokesman for the Saudi Embassy in Washington, Fahad Nazer, said, “Saudi Arabia does not interfere in anyway in the domestic affairs of other countries. It considers this noninterference principle to be a pillar of the rules-based international order. Just as importantly, Saudi Arabia does not engage in the dissemination of “disinformation” of any sort. Any allegations to the contrary are baseless.”

This trajectory from nationally focused to internationally focused disinformation campaigns raises longer-term worries about what other nations might have disinformation teams sharpening their chops on domestic audiences with an eye toward eventual use against foreign targets, including in the United States. In addition to those with known foreign disinformation capabilities, there are numerous nations — Turkey, Egypt, the Philippines, Qatar, Mexico and others — that now use such tactics mainly to influence domestic politics but could turn their attention to foreign targets.

In a related trend, online mercenaries have begun offering information operations as a commercial service. Facebook shut down 265 accounts from an Israeli company, Archimedes Group, in May for seeking to manipulate elections through social media targeting voters in Latin America, Africa and Southeast Asia. The company said on its website that it would “use every tool and take every advantage available in order to change reality according to our client’s wishes.”

2 notes · View notes

laurasroyalblog · 5 years

Note

I wish AOC and others wouldn't fall into the barstool trap. It's obvious David Portnoy is trolling and other sites like Boing Boing and Heavy are falling for it. I don't like the dude, but it's clear he's not being serious here. I thought the people who run those sites are supposed to be "with it" and "hip" and get that he's basically satirizing himself. It's just fueling more revenue to the site, now he's selling tshirts and shit. They should be ignoring him, not falling into his trap.

To be fair, what’s going on here is a pandemic not confined to just this issue. Basically, the Twitter “gotcha gang” mentality has made it so that this formula gets repeated over and over and over again.

1) Encounter a tweet you don’t like. Don’t check the person’s profiles, follower numbers, past history, or anything like that.

2) RT it with your best tsk tsk to your much larger audience.

3) People with larger audiences follow suit.

4) All of a sudden we have a trending topic about something awful but all the tweets are outrage about the awful thing. There’s like one or two losers who actually tweeted said awful thing. They have a combined follower count of like 200 people at most.

So in all of this, we end up informing vast swaths of Twitter about shitty ideas like 3 people have. And we give a platform to those 3 shitty humans that they never could’ve dreamed of. It’s all very performative and annoying.

Now, Barstool is different because they do legit have an audience. But it’s another one of those “stop and think” moments where if you did stop and think you’d realize that you’re playing into their hand.

I’m not a Barstool supporter by any stretch but as a die hard hockey fan there really is no other content like Spittin Chiclets out there. It is the best for getting interesting player interviews. I skip over a lot of their “shooting the shit” talk but I do listen to the podcast.

I say all this because on the episode released today their producer said that this whole thing gave them 2 billion impressions and millions in revenue and free advertising they otherwise wouldn’t have had.

If people wanted to report this to the NLRB off of Twitter that’s one thing. It might actually do some good and doesn’t really get them a lot of free and extra publicity. But when you think you are going to beat them by giving them more attention on Twitter, you are playing into your hand. It’s the same thing as republican nominees (cough Rubio cough Bush cough) who thought the way to beat Trump was to be like him. You’re basically giving him home field advantage.

I think the best way to beat Barstool is ignoring them until you have a factual and practical way to beat them. The best recent example for that IMO is the woman who had her video stolen. She didn’t play into their hands. She meticulously laid out a case with receipts. When you force Barstool to go out of their bro male schtick and apologize I would call that winning.This isn’t winning. It made a bunch of people who already hate Barstool continue to hate Barstool. It also made a bunch of the stoolies (insert biggest eyeroll ever) defend their cause as per usual.

So what has changed because of this? Nothing except more money in Barstool’s pockets and more incentive for them to continue to do this stupid shit.

This is why I’m such a proponent of blocking on Twitter. I don’t have to respond to a lot of stan bullshit because honestly most of it I don’t even see. But even beyond that I’m getting better at selecting my response. If they violated Twitter terms, I report them and block. But if they just said something moronic, I usually block.

It actually reminds me of an email I got in college when Westboro Baptist Church was coming to protest near our campus. It said in part this “This group is not welcome on campus. However, they have the right to demonstrate on public property. While the group’s intention is to gain maximum public exposure for its activities, we ask you to consider the power you might surrender by playing into their agenda.” I think that’s good advice for how we handle a lot of what happens on social media. It’s advice I certainly need to be more mindful of at times.

#non royal #Anonymous #answered

1 note · View note

quinnhayden · 6 years

Note

can you do a thing where bucky is jealous of quinn and thor like that one where he was jealous of steve and thor?

Sometimes, this new team they’re on is quicker to the uptake than he is. A decent chunk of his information comes from blurred and outdated memories. When he shows up, hell’s sometimes already broke loose. Those days, he tries to leave the area because he can’t risk it if they catch him. He can’t face them. Not yet. As hard as he tries to force his body to move, there’s this…deep-rooted instinct to protect that keeps him stuck there. Each and every damn time. Finally, he gave up trying and accepted it. So, he’ll hover on the outskirts of the battle and he’ll watch over whichever one of them leads the mission from the scope of his weapon.

Memories tend to bleed back into his brain whenever he watches Steve and Quinn. Muscle memories, too. There’s a familiarity when it’s Steve in the scope, but with Quinn…it’s new. Old and new. He knows, back in the war, that he’d started to hover around her, especially after France where he’d almost watched her bleed out to death. It’s so different to watch her now. She’s a blur at her fastest, can throw men clear across a room, can adapt to any weapon at her disposal, can do so much more and she looks damn good while doing it. It’s a whirlwind of emotion—excitement, arousal, frustration, terror. Her body now matches the ferocity of her personality. Finally, one day, it dawns on him that he felt these same emotions with Steve. And the same as Steve, he knows Quinn’s personality too well. She’s a healer, a protector, and she pulls stupid stunts to do that.

So, he’s there when it happens. The idiot in the red cape blows a tank to hell with a zap of electricity and stands around on top of it to do…whatever. Another tank moves to aim at him and he doesn’t notice. The echo of her voice reaches even him as he shouts the idiot’s name. Something…uncomfortable settles in the center of his chest at that. He can’t focus on it because Quinn becomes almost a blur as she sprints toward her moronic teammate. She doesn’t even have the shield, the idiot. He aims to put a bullet in the showboater’s shoulder to knock him away, but it’s too late. He can only watch as she hops on top of the blown tank, shove her teammate off, and the other tank’s blast hits as she moves to try and duck out of the way.

His heart’s in his throat. When the explosion dies down, he looks around wildly for wherever she could’ve landed. There. He finds her in his scope. She’s sprawled out, face down in the snow, and she’s not moving. It’s too far away for him to tell if she’s breathing or not. He immediately starts to inch closer, that instinctive urge to protect in overdrive and moving him. The asshole in the red cape runsover to crouch down next to her prone form and he carefully moves her onto her back. Gently, the man reaches an arm under her to pull her close to his chest and his hands touch her face. His own lips curl back into a soundless snarl. That fucker has no right to touch her when he hurt her. He itches to put a bullet between the other man’s eyes, but that wouldn’t be productive. Besides, one of her other teammates, the one in the iron suit, lands on the other side of her to block his shot. There’s a heated discussion between the teammates. The one in the cape holds a hand out and the hammer he fights with immediately flies to him. He pulls her closer to his chest and stands up, arm supporting her and keeping her rooted against him. With the other hand, he spins his hammer, and then he shoots off into the sky with her.

Quinn’s hurt and he doesn’t know where she’s been taken. The only way he’ll know if she lives ordies is his mark and he hates that. He’ll spend his night on a live wire because his soulmate is too noble and kind to let a teammate be hurt. He’s so focused on her that he doesn’t realize how much closer he’s moved to the battle. The snap of a branch behind him makes him whirl around, weapon aimed and at the ready, but stops his finger before it moves to the trigger. This man he’s seen before. This is one of Steve and Quinn’s teammates. He tends to hoveraround their ships rather than fight. The man is shirtless now, but there’s that signature A of the team on his pants.

“Hi,” the man greets awkwardly as he puts his arms up in the universal not armed gesture. “James, right?” He panics that he’s been caught, but the other man smiles a little. “I’m Doctor Bruce Banner. I’m, uh, on the team with Quinn and Steve. That’s who you’re here for, right? Quinn?” Banner frowns.“She’s hurt. I need to finish cleaning up here, so I couldn’t see how bad it was, but she’s being taken to the closest hospital. I can tell you the location if you don’t know where it is. Steve’s been called, but he’s on the other side of the world…looking for you, I’m pretty sure.”

“You gonna tell him?” His voice is rusty with disuse.

Banner smiles wryly. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Let’s say I know what it’s like to…want to stay away from other people until you have the monster under control. I get it, wanting to keep the people you love most safe from that other part of you.” Banner is starting to look green around the gills…literally. There’s a green tint to his skin. “Go see her.”

It wouldn’t be hard to sneak inside the hospital she’s been taken to and that’s a serious problem in his book. Where’s the asshole with the cape? Shouldn’t there be a lot more security around this hospital? There’s no one around who can protect her. A super soldier in such a vulnerable position would make a nice prize to what little is left of Hydra. This extreme lack of security means he’ll have to camp out here until the rest of her team shows up…and they better. He doesn’t mean Steve and Wilson because those two will definitely show up. No, if these people are worth a damn then they’ll come take care of her. She puts her life on the line like that, they need to show her the same damn respect.

The next couple of hours, he hovers outside the hospital and watches it boom with activity. The one in the iron suit is the first to show up, ahead of the plane. Their plane lands on the roof and he thinks it’d be okay to leave since the super powered team is there to protect her, but they leave. They leave her behind and he swears he’ll rip their spines out with his metal arm. Fuck. Shit. Look at him. Like he has any room to talk. He can’t be this overprotective. He has no damn room to be. He watches Quinn and Steve, but always from far away.

Day slowly starts to bleed into night and he becomes more and more aware of how close in proximity he is to Quinn. It makes him ache. A familiar ache. This has started to happen a lot recently when he watches Steve and Quinn. He’s never dared to let himself come too close, but…he could see her now. She’ll probably be unconscious. One look, that’s all he thinks he’d need to cure this hunger. She won’t have to watch him leave and have her heart broken. It makes him a coward, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Just like he expected, Quinn’s unconscious when he moves inside her room. Quietly, he closes the door so no one is tempted to peek inside and spot him. There is only one light on in the room, the small one over her bed that bathes her in a soft glow. He walks over to sit on the edge of her bed and for all his thoughts, she looks smaller here. Softer. Vulnerable, too. Finally, for the first time in decades, she reaches out to touch her gently. He brushes some hair away fromher face and traces the scar that runs down her temple before he settles his hand on her cheek. It turns out that he was wrong before—this only makes him ache and long to be with his soulmates worse. It’s worth it, though.

Quinn’s hand moves to cover his own, a clumsy movement, and he freezes. Her eyes slowly slide open and she blinks up at him a few times. “Who’s it?” she slurs. He squints at her and she repeats the motion. “Oh. It’s an angel,” she says wistfully. Glassy eyes, slurred speech, and her hand drops like she can’t hold it up anymore it’s so heavy. “It’s my angel. My beautiful boy. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. You are my Bucky, aren’t you?”

No, he’s not, but he won’t tell her that. “They have you on painkillers, don’t they?”

“Oh, my Lord, do they ever. Serious narcotics,” she confirms and then bursts out in a fit of giggles. The sound puts a warmth in his chest he forgot he could even feel. “Boy am I high as a kite. They, um, have to use a lot ‘cause my serum…it—what’s the word? My serum…it sucks up the drugs too fast. I don’t think that’s the right word. Anyway, you could drop an elephant with what’s in me right now, I bet.” She moves her hand back up, but this time to touch the tip of his nose. “Boop.” He crinkles his nose to amuse her and she giggles again. “Hey, are you a dream?”

He can’t help it when the corners of his mouth lift into a smile. “Maybe I am,” he starts slowly. Cute. She’s cute like this. He hates that it’s taken her being hurt to get her this way. He doesn’t smile much himself anymore, but whenever he sees her in passing, neither does she. “Maybe I’m not,” he finishes. He catches her hand and brings it against his chest. The grin she responds with could light up the sky, he swears.

“That ain’t an answer,” she mutters with a pout. “Are you a dream?” she repeats. “‘Cause I’ve had lotta dreams like this. You come home to us and those’re the best dreams. But you come to our actual place in Brooklyn and not a hospital. Are you here to haunt me ‘cause I got hurt? Steve didn’t yell at me over the phone, but he was in a rush ‘cause he and Sam have Hydra asses to kick. He didn’t yell at me, so are you here to? You always yell at me in hospitals.”

After France, he thinks she means. He’d been so furious at her that he did, in fact, yell at her while she was propped up in bed. He wouldn’t see her until Steve practically dragged him in by his ear. “Not this time,” he assures her. He pulls her hand up closeto his mouth so he can kiss her knuckles. “This one wasn’t on you. You did worry me, though, baby doll.” It’s simple to drop back to that same Brooklyn drawl. It fits like an old glove. It’ll help cement the idea in her head that this is a dream. It’s wrong not to tell her the truth that he’s here, but there’s safety in this. Safety for both of them.

“I think you are a dream,” she says wistfully and wiggles her fingers in his grasp. His smile widens and she sighs again. “I miss you, Bucky. I miss everything ‘bout you. I miss your voice. I miss your chin.” She touches the dip in his chin as she says it and he shivers. “I miss your eyes. I miss your body, too.” She drops her hand, but it’s only so she can cop a feel of his pec and he squawks in shock. She laughs, so he’s not as embarrassed about the sound. “God, I never did know how I ended up with the two most handsome fellas in the world. You’re a bombshellnow. Don’t get me wrong, you was one before, but now…you’re fuckin stacked, Buck. You got so many muscles and your thighs! I’d climb you like a tree, here and now. I would make this a dirty dream real quick, but…I think I’d fall off.”

There’s a momentary rush of heat that runs across his body. He hasn’t felt desire in…a long time. But he ends up laughing. He laughs and smiles wider than anything he’s managed this side of the century. It feels good. She makes him feel good. “Easy there, kitten.”

“Take that to the goddamn bank. You’re a dime. I loveyour laugh. Your smile. I’m done. What did I do to deserve this?” She leans up and makes to move like she wants to wrap her arms around him, but there’s an IV in her arm that tugs. She groans and glares down at it. Then, she fiddles around with it and when she realizes she can’t get it out of the way, she starts picking at the tape as if she’s about to pull it out.

He slaps her hand away before she can try. “Don’t even think about it, Hayden.”

“But I wanna hold you,” she whines. “I want my hands on you when I tell you how much I love you.”Gently, he pushes her back down against her pillow. “What? No. Stop it. Come down here with me. No. Wait. I wanna kiss. Can I have a kiss? C’mon. Tell me, are yah rationed?”

“Savin’ all my sugar for my best guy and gal,” he instinctively replies without much thought. She squirms around under his hands and he tries not to roll his eyes. That’s Quinn. “I’ll let you have a kiss if you lean back and relax.”

“But if I do that then I’ll go back to sleep, though. I don’t want that. This dream’s too good to stop now. Hold on. That don’t sound right. Can I dream in a dream? This a dream?” She finally gives up on moving and slumps back into the bed. “Can I have a kiss?” He leans down to kiss her forehead. His lips linger against her fever-hot skin. “Cheater. Y’know I meant a mouth kiss.”

“I know, but not yet.” Her speech is starting to slur worse than before and her eyelids are drooping. “Go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna lose you again,” she whispers miserably.

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Ain’t I? You don’t wanna be with us no more. You won’t come home. What else ‘m I supposed to think?” A tear runs down her cheek and he wipes it away with his thumb. She’s fighting to stay awake and she stares up at him with those blue eyes. “Do you not love me anymore?”

He presses his hand to her cheek one more time and hunches over to touch his forehead to hers. “Sweetheart, you don’t even need to ask. They killed me and every time they brought me back to life, I always came back loving you.” And that’s the truth. The honest to God truth. But he thinks she’s already asleep before she hears it all. Maybe some things are better left for when she’s sober.

Something moves out of the corner of his eye. A swift glint of metal. Bucky now hovers over Quinnprotectively, but looks over his shoulder. In the doorway is her teammate—dressed down in civilian clothes now. His hammer is in hand and he looks poised and ready to attack. The warmth that came from Quinn quickly vanishes and emotion drops from his face as he stares at the other man.

“Step away from her,” her teammate snarls lowly. “And tell me who you are. What is your purpose?”

“You have some nerve to tell me to step off when you’re the one that put her in here,” Bucky shoots back coolly.

The idiot stares at him and, slowly, lowers his hammer. He cocks his head to the side and his eyes move over to Quinn. Bucky moves his body to block the asshole’s view of his soulmate. “Oh,” he breathes out. “Oh.” He stares at Bucky with wide eyes and a grin stretches across his face. “You’re him!” Bucky gives a full body twitch at the sudden boom of noise. The moron snaps his mouth shut and gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but what a pleasure it is to finally meet you, my friend. You’re Quinn and Steve’s other true match. Bucky?”

“James. Only my friends call me Bucky,” he snidely remarks.

“And I am Thor, son of Odin, prince of Asgard, teammate and friend to Steve and Quinn,” Thor boasts proudly. He quickly tones it down when Bucky doesn’t look at all impressed with his titles. “And you are very upset with me, I see. Yes, well, I deserve that.Quinn was hurt because of my carelessness, I know.” Bucky moves to his feet and turns to glower at Thor. “Again, this is a huge relief. I feel like I deserve someone’s ire. Quinn won’t blame me and I doubt Steve will, either.”

“Glad to know they haven’t changed in seventy years,” Bucky mutters under his breath.

“I wouldn’t know myself. I’ve only had the privilege of knowing them for three years. Well, Quinn for four.” Thor beams at him, radiant like Steve and Quinn’s smiles. He can understand why his soulmates get along so well with this Thor character. “The first time I met her, we spoke throughout the night. We told each other much. She, of course, told me about her lost loves—this was before both your miraculous returns, of course. She loves you both very much and it’s such a relief that you’ve decided to come back.” Bucky doesn’t want to admit the truth to this stranger, but he doesn’t want him to tell Quinn what happened. Thor must understand anyway because he says, “Ah. I see.”

“I don’t care if you’re their friend or not—you ever pull a stunt like that again and either of my soulmates ends up hurt, there won’t be a scrap of you left. You understand me?”

“Protective, aren’t you?” Thor drops down in the chair next to Quinn’s bed. “But I understand why. Quinn’s a very dear friend now. I hate that I’ve caused her this pain. I hate to see her in any pain. And she and Steve feel no pain worse than what comes from your absence, but what do I know?”

“Not shit,” Bucky snarls. “I’m not a fucking prince, okay? I’m no hero. They don’t deserve—”

“But they want you,” Thor interrupts petulantly.

“I want them, too. They’re all I’ve ever wanted. But…I’m not ready. I can’t guarantee I’ll stay if I come back. I need more time to get my head on straight.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Don’t tell her. Please. It’ll break her heart to know I was here for real. I love her and I want to keep her safe, even if that means from my mess of a brain. Can you understand that?”

Thor studies him for a moment and sighs. “Yes. Fine. I won’t tell her. But I’m warning you that you’re on thin ice. If you continue to hurt my friends then there’s no realm you can run to that I won’t find you.”

Bucky may not like this Thor, but at least his soulmates are in good hands.

#this ended up being.....really long #featuring protective thor and bucky #;u;#also really stoned quinn #blaze it quinn #my fic #taylor answers magical people

10 notes · View notes

loudlytransparenttrash · 7 years

Note

Not gonna lie... I'm scared of sjw. I got some in my school, and they're pretty crazy. So the question is, do I keep silent or do I stand up and say something?

Hi :) You’re right, they can be terrifying, not so much physically but their morals and ideals are fucking haunting. Remaining silent is the last thing you want to do, this is giving them a victory, one they go to the most extreme lengths to achieve. If there is a time to start speaking out and to send a broomstick through their bullshit, it’s now.

A turning point is underway in the battle over American universities. The social justice politics are losing both the argument and they’re losing their sympathizers. Dismayed by their wild-eyed radicalism and anti-intellectual demands, college faculties, administrators, and much of the media are turning their backs on the regressives.

These left-wing morons have been running rampant on college campuses for years. In 2014, the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education (FIRE) found that the number of speakers being disinvited on campus, prompted by the allegedly “offensive” views of a visiting speaker, had more than tripled over ten years. And if the speakers aren’t disinvited? Well this happens, and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this perfectly sums up American campus debate.

Activist crusades against cultural appropriation, sexism and racism have led to the banning of an eclectic range of items on campus, from Charlie Hebdo to mini-sombreros. Halloween costumes are banned, gender is banned, laws have been banned from being taught to law students, clapping is banned, the word ‘man’ is banned, statues are banned, burritos are banned, white bands are banned, plays are banned, innocent males are being banned for looking like a rapist, yoga is banned, student groups talking about men’s issues are banned, conservative student groups are banned, white men are banned.

In one low point, student leaders at the University of Minnesota even blocked a proposed annual moment of remembrance for 9/11 on the grounds that it could promote “Islamophobia.”

There is a shining light to all this craziness as you say though. Previously quick to take the side of students demanding “safety” from offensive speech, it now seems that colleges administrators have had enough.

The President of Oberlin, an infamously liberal college, recently rebuffed a list of demands from left-wing activists on campus, the University of Missouri has been uncompromising in its decision to fire radical assistant professor Melissa Click over her attempted physical intimidation of a student reporter, and a growing number of professors are now speaking out against the culture of safe spaces and censorship on campus.

Of course, these efforts feel a little like Pandora trying to close her box, campus faculties trying to contain campus crazies they themselves helped create. But it’s a start, we need to continue it.

The campus crazies are still winning some victories, like Princeton and Harvard’s removal of the academic title “Master” over complaints that it conjured memories of slavery. But the flames of resistance are quickly flickering to life. Sympathizers of the left have become harder to find, while new opponents appear every day. After all, these kids manufacture a new enemy every time they decide that an “ally” isn’t ideologically pure enough for them. They are booting out people and waking people up much faster than they are able to recruit. They’re doing our job for us, they’re exposing themselves every time they become hysterical and censor, ban, scream and attack anything and anyone that poses a challenge.

At the University of Rutgers, activists smeared red paint on their faces and chanted “Black Lives Matter” in an effort to disrupt the event. Similar events occurred at the University of Minnesota, where a Milo talk was interrupted by protesters wielding airhorns. The left-wing students came together afterwards in a therapy session to talk about how he made them feel “hurt” and “unsafe.” One student even reported being brought to tears by Milo’s presence. I’m not denying Milo can say some stupid shit, but come on, let’s not forget these are adults crying over words they disagree with.

For the educational establishment, these emotionally incontinent reactions serve as further proof that the left is out of control. It is now almost impossible to deny that their activism on campus breeds a climate of intellectual and political intolerance, masked by manipulative paper-thin concern for mental health. As conservatives have been saying for some time, the left is made up of crybullies - seamlessly switching between aggressors and victims depending on the circumstances.

From another perspective, these universities are failing at their basic task of creating intellectually robust young people capable of rational thought, discourse and debate. If their entire world shatters when presented with opposing views, how will they survive the stress and daily challenges of the jobs market? Even burger-flippers have to occasionally handle rude customers. McDonalds won’t be installing a safe space for their employees anytime soon. So consider it a favor you’re doing them by challenging their deluded view of the world.

You aren’t alone anymore. Faculties, professors and thousands of students seem to have realized that something has to change, and have cautiously used “controversial” speakers to challenge student activists for once. The same administrations that once embraced campus speech codes are now releasing robust statements defending free speech. The President of Rutgers University put out a statement defending the right of students to invite “offensive” speakers to campus, defending the “right to speak freely” as “fundamental to our university, our society, and our nation.”

A senior faculty committee at the University of Minnesota the same campus that saw bans on Charlie Hebdo and 9/11 remembrances voted 7-2 in favour of a statement backing freedom of speech as the university’s “paramount value.”

DePaul University’s president Dennis H. Holtschneider condemned student protesters, saying “Yesterday’s speaker was invited to speak at DePaul, and those who interrupted the speech were wrong to do so. Universities welcome speakers, give their ideas a respectful hearing, and then respond with additional speech countering the ideas. I was ashamed for DePaul University when I saw a student rip the microphone from the hands of the conference moderator and wave it in the face of our speaker,” he wrote. He also apologized to College Republicans, writing that, “they deserved an opportunity to hear their speaker uninterrupted, and were denied it.” Sadly he was harassed and bullied by lefty professors and students until he apologized and resigned. Still, the initial fight for free speech was there.

Many academics have realized the threat posed by the left to the intellectual life of American campuses is too great to ignore any longer. Even before the events of these controversial speakers, they were taking cautious steps to fight the left. For example, a growing number of colleges have embraced the Chicago Principles. Published by the University of Chicago in 2012, the principles call for discussion of “offensive” ideas, and affirm that “without a vibrant commitment to free and open inquiry, a university ceases to be a university.”

Even the most ardently left-wing academics are getting cold feet. A liberal professor came out to expose his own liberal students “terrified” him, and condemned a “simplistic, unworkable, and ultimately stifling conception of social justice” for the problem.

Even Rani Neutill, who on paper represents the ideal academic of the regressive left - woman, feminist, ethnic minority, film studies lecturer - published an account of her disastrous run-ins with students’ demands for “trigger warnings” on potentially offensive content, which forced her to abandon a course on sex and cinema. “Colleges are the new helicopter parents, places where the quest for emotional safety and psychic healing leads not to learning, but regression” wrote Neutill. What hope is there for the left on campus, if they can’t even rely on a feminist film studies lecturer who writes for Salon?

Mainstream media is losing it’s coziness with social justice students too. While conservative media has always opposed activist antics on campus, now liberal publications are doing so as well. It was The Atlantic, a stalwart of the liberal establishment, that published Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s marathon analysis of the “coddling” of students in America, and it is no longer uncommon to see condemnations of student censorship in liberal publications like The Guardian, The New York Times and The Daily Beast.

Even Obama as an apologist for identity politics - most notably Black Lives Matter - turned against college activists. Speaking at an educational town hall event, he said: “I’ve heard of some college campuses where they don’t want to have a guest speaker who is too conservative, or they don’t want to read a book if it had language that is offensive to African Americans or somehow sends a demeaning signal towards women. I’ve got to tell you, I don’t agree with that either - that when you become students at colleges, you have to be coddled and protected from different points of view.”

As for students themselves, the left no longer has a monopoly on campus activism. Their radicalism, unchecked for so many years, has led to a backlash from moderates, libertarians and conservatives on campus. They may be quieter than the social justice warriors, but they have shown in the past year that if they’re feeling brave enough to speak out, they far outnumber their left-wing counterparts. Both in physical numbers and in brain cells.

There is a growing realization among all sides of the establishment that student censorship on campus has gone too far. Left-wing activists now face hostility from the left, the centre, and the right as well as the media. While their opponents have yet to agree on a plan of action against the campus left, there is now clear agreement that something must be done. From now the left is on the defensive so there’s no need to be afraid of them anymore, you asked me if you should stand up and say something - yes, you absolutely should. If you use cold hard facts, you will win every time.

#myreplies #sjw1

41 notes · View notes