#(and i did NOT grow up remotely near ohio) Tumblr posts
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there is a post going around like THE GOVERNMENT DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW ABOUT KENT STATE and I am sorry but if you are an adult American with a high school degree and don't know about Kent State I'm afraid that's on you. There is a Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young song about it and they play it on your average oldies station like twice a day.
#i KNOW they teach it#bc i had a classmate who WENT there and we were all like. kent state like from the vietnam war protest massacre?#(and i did NOT grow up remotely near ohio)
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lost time (chapter two)
pairing: rafe cameron x oc
warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex
wordcount: 1.6k
MASTERLIST
_______
By some strange coincidence, Rafe and Sophie were in the same section of their debate class. (Some might call it fate. Sophie would call it a curse.)
It was one of the less popular general education options in the communications section that all Ohio State students had to pick from, but they were both drawn to the idea of the challenge while enrolling. The class was fairly small for a gen ed, only about 40 students. When Rafe walked in on the first day, two minutes to start, he spotted Sophie immediately. She was poised with her notebook laid out, colored pens and all, and Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He deliberately sat opposite the room from Sophie, hoping and praying they would never be paired together. It was fun to argue about useless things at parties, but less fun in an educational setting. About a month into the semester, the thing he wanted least, happened.
“Rafe Cameron...and…” Their professor trailed off, scanning around the room to find him a partner for the timed debate. Sophie kept her eyes trained on the doodles in the margin of her notebook, only halfway paying attention as she added another. She had been chosen once at the beginning of the semester and briefly entertained the short debate, something trivial about reality TV, but was left disappointed by her partner’s lackluster effort. “Sophie Flint!”
At the mention of her name, her head snapped up, caught off guard. “Hm?”
“You’ll be debating Mr. Cameron, here. Come up to the podiums please.” Their professor instructed.
She sighed under her breath and rose from her seat as Rafe did the same, both of them standing at the podiums at the front of the classroom. Sophie laced her fingers behind her back, lifting her chin slightly to acknowledge Rafe. He just smirked. Asshole.
“Alright, you two know the rules, keep it civil. Five minutes.” Their professor glanced down at her list of topics. “You’ll be debating...ah. Should golf be a sport or not? I’ll let you pick your sides -”
They spoke at the same time.
“Of course it should.”
“God, no.”
She held back an amused smile. “Alright. Carry on.”
Sophie nodded curtly, then turned slightly toward Rafe, stating her position. “Golf courses are an absolute waste of real estate.”
“Hold up - Professor Welch, are we talking about the sport or the course?” Rafe interrupted the debate, annoyed as he tugged at his cap.
Their professor just shrugged.
“Well you can’t have the sport without a course. Unless you want to play completely in the rough, which, with your skill level, you probably -”
“Ms. Flint.” Professor Welch warned.
Sophie barely held back a smirk. “Right. Anyways, courses are about 100, 200 acres on average? And say there’s at least 32,000 courses in the world. So by that standard…” she paused for a moment, doing the mental math. “You have roughly four and a half million acres of land occupied by golf courses.”
Rafe raised his eyebrows, curling his fingers around the edge of the podium as he leaned slightly toward her. “I don’t see an issue with that. Golf is a valuable, fairly low-impact sport that provides an outlet for many. It’s accessible even past retirement, so it’s a sport that grows with you.”
“Except the sport is classist. It’s expensive and typically located near neighborhoods that at least have a middle-class income. It’s only accessible past retirement if you have the option to retire, or if you retire with enough spare change to keep up the hobby.” She explained, almost seeming bored. “Not to mention, golf courses are destroying the environment.”
“No they’re not.” He shot back.
She raised her eyebrows at the meager comeback. “They are. What’s the one thing you need the most to keep the fairways groomed?”
Rafe thought for a moment. “Water. But you can just use rainwater -”
“Great, except most courses don’t.” She interrupted, rolling on. “It’s a huge waste of resources just to water the grass, instead of using that land for farming or preserving the biodiversity of the area.”
“Thirty seconds.” Their professor chimed in, keeping an eye on her watch.
Rafe hurried to make his point, knowing he was losing the debate by miles, but Sophie cut him off before he could even speak. “Not to mention, circling back to the sport being elitist, most courses require a country club membership to even play a round -”
“You belong to a country club, Flint, that’s hardly a leg you can stand on.” Rafe interjected just as their professor called time, a broad smirk tugging at his lips as he sensed Sophie’s frustration at not getting the last word.
“Enlightening.” Professor Welch turned back to the class. “Show of hands, who won?” The majority of the class voted for Sophie, only a few frat boys raising their hands in support for Rafe. The bell rang and their professor nodded as the class started to pack up and shuffle out. “Right then, don’t forget to read chapters three and four this weekend!”
Sophie just rolled her eyes at Rafe’s smirk and grabbed her backpack, starting off down the hallway with a satisfied smirk of her own. Sure, he might have gotten the last dig, but she clearly had a stronger argument.
“Sophie!” She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know it was Rafe calling out after her. “Flint!” She ignored him again as he jogged to catch up until she felt his large hand grip her arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”
She yanked her arm out of his grip but turned around anyways. “Get your hands off - oh.” She mumbled the last word as she saw her phone clutched in his hand.
“Chill out, you just left this behind.” Rafe offered it to her and she took it, giving him a short smile.
“Right. Thanks.”
“Hey, um. You did good, I didn’t know all that stuff.” He tried, offering her a rare compliment.
“It’s well.” She corrected before she could stop herself.
“Huh?”
“Well. I did well, not good.” The second it left her mouth, she regretted it.
Rafe scowled slightly at the correction. “Whatever. See you next class.” He headed off, shaking his head. She stood there for a moment, watching him go and silently cursed herself in her head. Would it be that difficult to accept the compliment?
_________
“You need to get over yourself and just go say hi.” Sophie’s friend and roommate, Julia, interrupted her train of thought as Sophie was completely zoned out later that night, staring across the bar at Rafe. He wasn’t even doing anything remotely interesting, just talking with his friends and drinking the Wednesday special dollar beers, but there was something about the backwards cap - that damn backwards cap - that did it for her.
Sophie shook her head absently, taking a moment until she redirected her gaze. “Huh?”
Her other roommate, Allie, shook her head with a smile at Sophie’s delayed reaction.
“Oh my god.” Julia snapped in front of her face to get her attention. “Look, if you’re not going to make a move, can I?”
“Can you - what? With Rafe? Rafe Cameron? Like, my Rafe?” Sophie stuttered, slightly in shock. “Why?”
“Have you seen him? He’s cute. And he’s always been nice at parties. I need a date for the Theta party this weekend, please?” Julia asked, shooting a glance over at Rafe. He caught her eye but his gaze shifted over to Sophie for a moment as he sent her a nod of acknowledgment and a raise of his glass.
“I - um, fine, yeah, whatever.” Sophie knocked back the rest of her drink as a final statement, not wanting the conversation to last any longer as she flushed just slightly under Rafe’s stare. “I’m getting more, do you guys want something?”
After a chorus of no’s from her friends, she pushed her way up to the bar alone. A few moments later, Rafe sidled up next to her, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar to face her. Sophie tried her best to ignore him, keeping her gaze trained on the glowing neon signs behind the bar.
“Not gonna say hi?” Rafe asked.
It took everything in her for Sophie not to roll her eyes as she turned slightly toward him. “Hi, Cameron. Are you free this Friday?”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Are you asking me out?”
That was enough to warrant an eyeroll. “No.” (She bit back the ‘no, stupid’ that threatened to roll off her tongue.) “My friend Julia doesn’t have a date for the Theta party. Are you down?”
“Oh, shit, yeah.” He turned as their drinks arrived, sliding enough cash across to cover both of them. “The taller one, right?”
Sophie tried to grab his cash back and cover her half before the bartender could take it, but she noticed too late. “Yes, the tall one. Here.” She shoved the $5 bill into Rafe’s hand. He just pushed it back into hers, taking her hand and closing it into a fist around the bill. “Rafe, I don’t want your money,” she tried again.
He grinned. “So you can cover me next time we go out, then. What’s Julia’s number?”
“Right.” She sighed and gestured for his phone. He handed it over easily. “Um, I don’t know it off the top of my head and they have my purse, but. Here’s mine and I’ll pass it on.” She typed her number into his phone quickly, saving her contact then handing it back.
Rafe nodded with an easy grin, hand lingering for a moment as he took back the phone. “Even better. See ya Friday, Soph.” He gently bumped his elbow against hers, hands full, before heading back to his crew. It wasn’t lost on Sophie that she was left standing there, again, without the last word.
taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @butgilinsky @taiter-tots
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Prove It
Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader
Warnings: Accusations of infidelity, manipulative behavior, profanity, angst
Word Count: 3055
Request: At the end to avoid spoilers!
Author’s Note: Lots of angst, I know and I’m sorry! I’ll try to write something nicer for next week :) Also, I tried out a new paragraph break inspired by @ohprettyweeper-fics! It always bothers me that the asterisks aren’t centered so hopefully this will be a nice fic, feel free to let me know what you think :) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one! (picture credit)
Josh: Late night at the studio, will be home as soon as possible. Love you
Your heart sunk as soon as you read the message from Josh. Between recording sessions, design meetings, and late night calls with Tyler about tiny album details, Josh’s schedule had left hardly any time for the two of you to be together lately. Most of your evenings were spent curled up on the couch with Jim and waiting for Josh to get home so you could have actually have dinner together.
Y/N: no worries, drum your little heart out, dun. i love you too :)
You closed your messages and switched over to Instagram to see what your friends back home were up to tonight. There wasn’t anything super exciting - mostly due to the fact that it was Tuesday - but a couple of them had shared photos of their dogs. You decided to join in on the trend and post a cute picture of Jim for your friends to see, as well as the other thousands of followers you had amassed from being known as “Josh’s partner”.
By the time you finished posting the picture with a caption about spending the night in, minus the part about Josh not being there, Tyler had also taken the opportunity to post to his Instagram story. Eager to see what him and Josh were up to, you clicked on it. Your heart dropped as you realized it wasn’t him and Josh at the studio, but a video of Mark standing in front of a mural with Tyler’s voice clearly behind the camera. Josh was nowhere in sight.
That didn’t bode well.
You didn’t even take a moment to consider if you were acting irrationally before you dialed Tyler’s number. Your feet tapped quickly against the edge of the coffee table as you waited for him to pick up. It only took a couple rings before Tyler’s voice was carrying through the phone.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah, hi.”
“Is everything ok?”
“I’m not sure,” you said, chewing on the edge of your thumb. “Is Josh with you?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since we left the studio.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Is everything ok?”
“I don’t know, Tyler,” you huffed. “Can you please just answer the question?”
“He said he was heading home. Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Tyler snapped.
“I just- Josh said that you guys were staying late at the studio, but that obviously wasn’t the case because you and Mark are downtown.”
“You think he’s lying to you?” His tone had switched entirely. Sometimes it was easy to forget Tyler had been your friend long before you dated Josh.
“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hard not to assume the worst.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t want to make a huge deal out of something that could just be a miscommunication. I’ll talk to him when he gets home, whenever that is.”
“Ok. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“This isn’t your fault, Ty. Go enjoy your night.”
“Will you keep me updated?”
You sighed. Although Tyler was your friend, you didn’t really feel like you should drag him into the middle of your relationship drama.
“We’ll see what happens. Like I said, I really don’t want to make this a big deal if it’s nothing.”
“Ok, but you know I’m here for you, right?”
“Always,” you smiled. “I’ll talk to you later, ok?”
“Don’t forget about lunch on Wednesday!”
“I never could.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye.”
You set your phone down on your lap and rubbed at your temples. Josh hadn’t given you any sort of estimate about when he would be home and it was already nearing 9 p.m.
It seemed you would just have to play the waiting game.
You finally heard Josh pull into the driveway around 10:30. Jim’s head perked up at first, but it wasn’t until Josh’s keys were in the door that he finally hopped down and ran to greet him. You took your time getting off the couch and wrapping a blanket around your shoulders for comfort, not to mention that the rest of the house felt cold after you had been nestled up on the couch with Jim for a couple of hours.
“Hi, love!” you called, feeling a bad taste enter your mouth as you said it.
“Y/N!” Josh said, appearing around the corner with a smile on his face. “I missed you.”
You did a quick scan of Josh’s appearance to see if it would give you any clues about where he might have been. His hair was a bit messy, but that was always the case, there weren’t any hickeys on his neck or on the bit of collarbone peeking out from under his shirt, and he was wearing the same outfit as when he had left.
“How was the studio?” you asked as he gave you a quick kiss. One of his hands was hidden behind his back.
“It was good, we got a lot of work done.”
So he was upholding the lie.
“You know, I was talking to Tyler on the phone not long after you texted me,” you started. Hopefully Josh wouldn’t be able to hear your voice shaking. “It didn’t sound like he was at the studio.”
After giving you a kiss, Josh had walked straight into the kitchen, meaning you couldn’t see the current look on his face. You were almost glad to have a wall in between the two of you right now. It made the confrontation easier.
“You did?”
“Where were you, Josh?” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to feed into his games.
“Getting you these.”
You opened your eyes and blinked, clearing the blur away. Josh was standing a few feet away from you, holding a vase full of red roses. There was a shy smile on his face as he held the vase towards you.
“For an hour?” you asked, taking it from him. It was a serious question posed as a joke.
“Well, my plan was to just pick up the flowers, but one of my friends called because his car broke down and needed a jump start and I just so happened to be in the neighborhood because I was leaving the studio. Then we ended up talking for half an hour before we actually got the car started, you know how we are.”
“I appreciate the flowers, Josh. Thank you,” you said, giving him another kiss. It seemed all of your concerns had been unnecessary.
“How were things here?” Josh asked, once again walking back into the kitchen. This time you had the confidence to follow him and take a seat at the counter while he made himself a drink. Jim curled up next to your chair.
“Same as always. Jim and I watched some TV together, talked to a few friends from back home, made a microwave pizza for dinner and slipped a couple pieces of ham to Jim.”
“I’m sure he enjoyed that,” Josh smiled.
“He did. Hey, do you want to go watch something in the living room?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
You shuffled back towards the living room while Josh finished putting his things away and taking off his shoes. While you waited for him, you sent Tyler a quick text.
Y/N: turns out there was nothing to worry about. it was a miscommunication like i thought
You and Jim had already made yourselves comfortable by the time Josh finally made his way into the living room. He had swapped out his jacket and jeans for a pair of sweats and a tight t-shirt. It was hard not to stare as he got closer and sat down on the couch.
“Enjoying the view?” he laughed as he sat down next to you.
“Just a little.”
“Me too.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer into his side. “What do you want to watch?”
“Whatever you want to is fine, I already caught up on everything I’m watching.”
“Alright.”
Josh leaned forward to grab the remote off the coffee table, which is when you noticed the tiny smudge of red just below his ear. Your heart sunk at the sight of it; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had worn red lipstick.
“You have a little something,” you said once he sunk back into the cushions. “Don’t move.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Not sure, but… there, it’s gone.”
“Thank you.” Josh smiled and puckered his lips, prompting you to give him another kiss.
Once Josh was busy looking for a show for the two of you to watch, you pulled your phone back out of your pocket and opened up your recent messages.
Y/N: just kidding
“I don’t know what’s going on, Tyler,” you sighed, using the hand that wasn’t clutching your phone to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know why he keeps lying to me.”
“I wish I had answers for you.”
“It’s ok. I never meant to drag you into this in the first place.”
“I think we both knew from the start that I was going to get involved in this one way or another.” Tyler tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out quite right.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you and Mark go back to Ohio tomorrow. I guess I’ll just have to figure out his lies on my own.”
“My offer is still open if you end up going through with it.”
“We’ll see,” you said, wiping a tear off your cheek. “We’ll see.”
“Ok, Mark is waving at me which means I need to get back in there. I’ll talk to you once we’re done with this session, ok?”
“Ok. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye.”
You closed your eyes and flopped back onto the bed. It had been a week since you first discovered Josh was lying to you and the evidence had only been growing since then. He was always on his phone when you were together, always texting someone and smiling but never telling you who it was. Then there was the fact that he always had his phone within a few inches of him and never face up. You had heard enough of your friends’ stories to have an idea about what that meant.
On top of that, he had told you multiple times that he had to stay late again, only for you to confirm with Tyler that he had made some excuse about going across town before heading home. Even when Tyler pressed him for information, he wouldn’t say anything other than he was seeing a friend. Still, without any solid evidence, you hesitated to confront him in case you were entirely misreading the situation, despite your instinct telling you that it was exactly what you thought it was.
Josh got home nearly two hours after you got a text from Tyler confirming that they were done at the studio. That was another piece of evidence that you had gathered: Josh was always gone for an extra hour or two after a text from Tyler. Never more. Never less. The mere thought of it made you uneasy.
“Hey,” Josh said, stepping into the living room. His hair was messy again today and he had opted to wear a shirt with a higher neckline than he was usually partial to. “I didn’t realize you were here, you were so quiet.”
“Sorry, lost in thought.”
Josh sat down in the chair across from you and started to untie his shoes. You quickly scanned his neck, looking for any leftover lipstick smears or hickeys that you were sure you hadn’t left yourself. As far as you could tell, he was still doing a good job of hiding them.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not right now.”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Josh said, looking up at you with a smile.
“I will.”
“Alright, well I’m going to run upstairs and get changed before we start making dinner.”
Perfect.
“Ok,” you said, puckering your lips. Josh walked over and gave you a gentle kiss before heading upstairs.
You waited an acceptable amount of time before following Josh, already thinking up whatever excuse you would give him as to why you had come upstairs. If you timed things right, you would be able to walk in right as he was changing his shirt and get a good look at his chest. Josh usually took any opportunity he could get to walk around shirtless, but over the last week you hadn’t seen him shirtless once. He had to be hiding something from you.
You peeked your head just inside the door before making your presence known. He was still wearing the shirt from earlier in the day, having only changed into sweatpants so far. Before changing his shirt, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text. Your heart started to pound in your chest as you realized what you were about to do. In all your investigation, you hadn’t once stopped to think about what it meant for you and Josh.
If you were right, this was the end.
Before you had too much of a chance to get caught up in your thoughts, Josh started to pull off his shirt. You rolled your shoulders and then walked into the room, acting as if you had just come up the stairs.
“Hey, Josh?”
“Woah, hey, Y/N.”
Josh turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He was still clutching the shirt he had been wearing earlier in the day to his chest, but it wasn’t enough to cover the numerous hickeys across his chest and collarbones.
Hickeys that you knew for a fact hadn’t come from you.
“What are those?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Nothing,” he said, reaching into the closet to grab a clean shirt. He pulled it over his head without another word.
“Nothing? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think I’m some sort of idiot, Josh?”
“I just got in an accident when I was skateboarding the other day. It’s not a big deal.”
“God, stop lying to me!” you said, pressing your fingers to your temples.
“How do you know I’m lying?”
“You’ve lied to me about staying late at the studio multiple times in the last week! And you’ve lied to me about who you’re texting. And you’re lying to me right now.”
“How do you know?” Josh said, carefully enunciating each word.
You looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head. You said you wouldn’t drag him into this.
“Tell me, Y/N. You’re just making yourself look like an idiot right now.”
“I talked to Tyler, alright? And he confirmed what I already thought I knew.”
Josh shook his head, “I can’t believe you, going behind my back to get information from my best friend. You could have talked to me.”
“You’re mad I went behind your back because it means that your manipulation tactics don’t work on me. And in case you forgot, he was my best friend before he even knew you existed.”
Josh grabbed at his hair and turned away from you, walking the length of the room. You stood frozen just inside the doorway, your arms still crossed tightly in front of your chest.
“Just admit it, Josh,” you said softly. “You’re cheating on me.”
“You’re crazy, Y/N. I would never do that to you.”
“Then tell me where you’ve been, Josh. Show me evidence that you were actually doing the things that you said you were.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you!” he said, suddenly raising his voice. His anger was all the evidence you needed.
“I’m not asking for anything groundbreaking.”
“You really think that I would do that to you?” he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. “That I would sleep with someone else when I could just come home to you every night? I didn’t know what love was until I met you, Y/N, and you’re accusing me of throwing that all away just so I could sleep with somebody else? Is that really what you think of me?”
“Just stop. I’m not going to fall for this again.”
“There’s nothing to fall for! I’m telling you how I feel!”
“I’ve only asked you for one thing, Josh. I just need proof that you’re not cheating, but you can’t even give me that.”
“I’m not cheating on you!”
“Prove. It.”
Josh was silent as he continued to pace the room. You waited for him to say something - anything - but he couldn’t. It was the exact response that you had expected.
“It’s settled then. Tyler got me a seat on their flight back to Ohio tomorrow. I'm going with them.”
“So you’re just going to give up on us like that? Three years of a relationship down the drain?”
You shook your head, “I’m not the one that gave up on us.”
“Please, Y/N, we can make this work. I’m so sorry for what I did. I’ll cut things off with her immediately. I love you. Please.”
Josh started to reach for your arms, but you pushed him away.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me. What you did was unforgivable, Josh.”
“She could never compare to you-”
“Stop. It’s over, Josh. I’m packing my things and going to Tyler’s tonight. By tomorrow, I’ll be back in Ohio so you never have to think of me again.”
“There won’t be a day that goes by that I don’t think of you.”
“Good.”
You turned and walked back downstairs before Josh had a chance to say another word to you. There was still the matter of avoiding him while you packed up all your belongings, but you would find ways to avoid talking to him. All of the things you needed to say had been said, now you just had to make peace with the situation. Being back in Ohio close to your friends and family would be a good way to start that journey.
You only wished that you could take Jim with you.
Request: yay!! i’ve had this request in the back of my mind for a while...i was thinking of Josh x reader and they’re dating but the reader finds out Josh is ALSO dating someone else 👀 -@faceofcontvsions
#josh dun#josh dun x reader#josh dun angst#twenty one pilots#twenty one pilots angst#josh dun imagine#josh dun drabble#josh dun fanfiction#twenty one pilots x reader#twenty one pilots imagine#twenty one pilots drabble#twenty one pilots fanfiction#tw; infidelity#tw; cheating#tw; profanity#tw; manipulation#angst#skeleton clique#blurry-fics
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Sashea and the time Sasha jumped out of her comfort zone: The Sashea vacation series 1/?: Mock-Star.
A series of fics based off Mocks time as an amusement park employee.
For 6 weeks this summer, I was employed at Cedar Point in Sandusky Ohio, and since CP is closed for the season, I figured it would be ok to start to publish some fics based of my time there. Not all of these fics will be totally related, but if I can connect it, I'm probably going to write it! Apparently I didn't learn my lesson with the last series I tried to write, but I don't care! And since the stories aren't necessarily connected or time sensitive, I can make sure you are getting the best I can give you! This first story isn't something that I experienced, but I figured I needed to tell the story of how they traveled. And plus it's smutty, so yay! Love y'all!
(For those concerned about my safety, I am no longer employed there, I will not share my exact job title, and V said it would be ok if I wanted to use the name!)
Ps: Happy Thanksgiving/ colonization day to all Americans who celebrate! Stay safe if you have homophobic families!
"Hey, can you come to the bathroom nearest our terminal? I don't feel super well."
Sasha frowned at the text from Shea. The last thing they needed was for one of them to get sick just as they were leaving to go on vacation. Shea would be absolutely miserable if they had to cancel any of their plans because she was sick. Shea had taken her stuff with her, so Sasha grabbed her bag and went off to the bathroom
"Babe?" She called out, her voice echoing in the otherwise empty bathroom.
"Here." Shea groaned, waving at her from underneath the stall door. Sasha sprinted over to the door and slipped inside as soon as Shea unlocked it. She locked the door back and turned to face Shea, and was surprised when Shea kissed her, pressing her up against the stall door.
"You aren't sick, you liar!" She teased, but it was hard to think while she could feel Shea getting hard, her growing erection pressing up against her leg.
"I had to get you in here somehow. What do you think about trying to join the mile high club?" Her voice was dripping with desire, more sultry than usual.
Sasha could feel her heart pound. Airplane sex was not one of her fantasies or a bucket list item, but she had to admit the conditions were near perfect. It was a late night flight when people would be sleeping, and they had two reclining first class seats right next to each other. If they got caught, they could get arrested. Oh, the media would have a field day, Sashea arrested for indecent exposure on an airplane. The idea was terrifying. But also kinda exciting. She could see how much the idea turned Shea on though, her eyes were bright, and she was slightly grinding up against her in hopes of turning her on too.
"We could get caught."
"That's the fun part."
"It's not going to be easy or comfortable."
"No one said it was."
"I'm not exactly quiet in bed."
"I have a ball gag in my carry on if we need it."
"I didn't prepare, it could get very messy."
"Not necessarily."
Sasha could feel herself getting turned on at Shea's presence and constant attention on that area, and when she closed her eyes she imagined watching the sun through the plane window as Shea gently rocked back and forth inside of her. It was enough to make her head spin, and she rested her head against the stall door. It was unrealistic, but that picture was enough to drown out some of her fears.
"If I get uncomfortable.."
"It stops. Just say the word."
"If we get arrested it's your fault." Sasha teased, and Shea smiled brightly.
"Is that a yes?!"
"Yes, I'll join the mile high club with you. You impatient bitch." She teased, and Shea kissed her nose, which made Sasha blush.
' Really? I don't blush when she fondles me in public but I blush when she kisses me. Why?'
"Turn around baby. Stomach against the door."
She ordered gently, and Sasha obeyed. She felt her pants being pulled down enough to reveal her ass, and she heard a bottle of lube being opened before a hand grabbed one of her cheeks and a finger gently massaged her entrance, going quicker than usual, but slow enough to not hurt her. Sasha wondered how she had come to this, being fingered in a public bathroom in preparation for airplane sex. This was one of the crazier things she had done, Shea seemed to bring out her wilder side. This was literally insane.
"Ok baby, I'm going to need you to take deep breaths and relax, ok?" Shea asked, and Sasha nodded. She could feel something hard and pointy being pressed against her, and reasoned it was some kind of butt plug.
"Are you ready?" Shea whispered, and Sasha shook her head quickly. She sensed Shea's hand falling back to her side and her free hand moved to her neck, rubbing it.
"Let me sit down on it."
"Ok baby." Shea whispered, kissing her neck softly. She turned around and watched Shea sit down on the toilet, resting the plug on her leg. As Sasha stepped the rest of the way out of her pants, she felt grateful that the stalls here offered more privacy than a regular stall so no one could see them. She straddled Shea's leg, and Shea grabbed her hips to give her more support as she slowly lowered herself down onto the toy. It was a good size, not the biggest she had ever taken, but big enough that her eyes watered when she reached the base. Shea smiled at her before standing her up, pressing her back against the wall so she could check for fit and add more lube.
"Does that feel ok baby? You're not in any pain or discomfort or anything?"
"No, it feels good. Just need to adjust to it."
"Ok baby, we should be boarding soon, and then we'll be on our way!!"
"And I can't wait." She turned around and kissed Shea, heart pounding in anticipation. "Now move, since you've dragged me in here, I'm going to try and go." She teased, pushing Shea out of the way. Shea bowed grandly and went out the door to wash her hands, leaving Sasha to lock the door behind her.
When they were both ready, they went back out and did some last minute work things until the call to board went out, and they got on the plane. When they got settled, Shea kissed Sasha's cheek before diving into one of her magazines, leaving Sasha to look out the window and wonder what she was planning.
The first hour or so was uneventful, they were offered snacks and drinks, and then the flight attendants turned out the lights, and the people around them reclined their seats and started falling asleep. Sasha had a book and a book light, but she was too wound up, wondering what Shea would do. She started playing a mindless game on her phone that didn't require wifi, trying to distract herself, but it wasn't working. Physically, she was comfortable, she was wrapped in a soft blanket and dressed in light clothes. Any other time, she would be out like a light, but she couldn't fully relax, not with Shea's plans a mystery to her and a big plug inside her that she still wasn't fully adjusted to. She could forget about it provided she was completely still, but if she even moved a hair, it reminded her it was there. She could have sworn she was throbbing around it, it was so maddening. No, it was throbbing, no, wait, it was...vibrating?
She gasped as she focused and realized that, yup, Shea had put a remote control vibrating butt plug inside of her, and that she probably bought it for this exact purpose. Shea turned towards her and smirked, teasingly holding up the remote control.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to notice." She whispered, making a show of turning the setting up, intensifying the vibrations ever so slightly, but much more noticeable. "It took you less time than I though. Only about 2 minutes." Sasha had to bite the inside of her cheek as Shea turned the vibrations up high suddenly, only to lower it back down the next moment. She could feel herself sweating, and she would probably be gross after this. Shea leaned in and kissed her teasingly, turning the vibrations up half a notch. Her hand reached out and caressed her head, holding it still so she could kiss her forehead. Shea held that pose for a few moments, presumably feeling the vibrations that were now running through Sasha's entire body. She moved her hand from Sasha's head, and she let it travel down to Sasha's pants so she could touch her over them. Her fingers teased the undeniable erection, and Sasha could hear a chuckle of triumph. Shea obviously wanted to take her sweet time and tease her. And Sasha normally loved being teased like this, especially in a sleepy way while lying in bed together. But this was not their bed, this was a airplane with a hundred other people after she had been on edge for hours. She needed more, and she needed it now. Fuck the consequences.
Cupping her hand over her mouth, she pushed Shea's hand away and winked at her, then darted up and power walked to the bathroom while hunched over, one of the flight attendants nodding apologetically at her. She got in and got on the floor in front of the toilet, and sure enough, Shea was close behind her and closed and locked the door, kneeling down beside her.
"Are you ok love? Was that a bad idea?" She whispered, and it took everything not to grab her by the collar and shake her. Instead Sasha leaned in and hissed at her.
"Fuck me right now. This is your fault, and you're going to fix it."
Shea's eyes lit up, she loved it on the rare occasion when Sasha was a bossy brat in bed, obliging her eagerly. Sasha would always apologize over and over again for her attitude after she had come back down to earth, and Shea would always coo about how hot she thought bossy Sasha was.
Shea had on a small fanny pack for her phone and other personal items, and she took it off and pulled out two condoms from a inner pocket. She slipped behind Sasha and tugged her pants down slightly and rolled one onto her, and Sasha could hear Shea putting one on herself. The familiar sound of a cap opening rang out, and Sasha felt the plug being slowly pulled out of her and fingers add more lube inside her.
"Are you ready?" Shea whispered. Sasha whipped around and hissed again, frustration reaching the boiling point.
"Yes. Now." She ordered, grunting when Shea slipped inside of her, thrusting shallowly.
"Not so bossy now, eh my love?" Shea teased, turning Sasha back around and positioning her hips better, she placed Sasha's hands on the toilet seat, and Sasha realized she was trying to make them look as though they weren't fucking, hiding most of their bare skin under Sasha's big shirt and stroking her upwards under her shirt.
"More."
"Easy, love. You're tense and we're crammed in here. I'll make it up to you though. Promise. Please try to relax a little more, I don't want to hurt you."
Shea couldn't see it, but Sasha rolled her eyes. She gripped the toilet seat harder and arched into Shea involuntarily, leaning forward onto the toilet. She was already frustratingly close, which was probably for the best considering their time constraints. She pretended to cough and gag, which she confirmed for Shea with a thumbs up. Shea massaged her upper arm with her free hand soothingly, easing into a steady pace.
Sasha knew it was coming, but her orgasm still threw her off. It was relatively shallow, but it still left her clutching at the toilet seat and gritting her teeth. Shea kept going for a minute or 2 before she started twitching, and Sasha heard a low groan as she stopped thrusting. Shea turned Sasha's face towards her to kiss her before pulling out and cleaning both of them up, hiding the condoms in a piece of toilet paper and throwing them in the trashcan. She stood up and stepped aside to let Sasha get up, and she went to the sink to wash her hands while Shea double checked that there was no other evidence. She dried her hands as Shea washed her hands, and Shea suggested they use hand sanitizer as well. Sasha went to open the door, but Shea stopped her, whispering.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry for being a brat."
"Eh, I deserved it. I can't believe you actually pulled us in here though! Believe it or not, I was just going to give you a hand job!"
"With a vibrating plug in me? Yeah right. "
"I'm serious!"
"You may not have meant to, but you wanted to turn me on."
"Ok, that's true. Let's get back to our seats. Pretend like you're still nauseated. "
They walked back to their seats, Sasha holding her hand to her mouth with Shea leading her. Shea helped her back in her seat and sat down next to her. It hadn't been too long since they went in, and it appeared like no one was the wiser. The exhalation left her quickly, and Sasha fell asleep with Shea stroking her face, with the knowledge that when she woke up, she would be on vacation with her love.
#rpdr fanfiction#shea coulee#sasha velour#sashea#mock star#smut#fluff#mile high club#use of sex toys#sashea vacation series#lesbian au
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blood tells (a tale all its own)
Darcy looks a lot like her mother.
Most of that is by nature, some of that is by choice.
With a name like “Current Events,” she thought she’d be safe taking the class. News and stuff, right? She could handle that. Darcy really should have known better. She should have considered that ‘current’ could have variable definitions depending on perspective. Unluckily for her, the professor took a long view encompassing most of the past fifty years. The syllabus was the only warning she had, the outline told her that on week six they’d focus on assassinations that shaped society.
She clicked on the corresponding link to find the assigned reading and felt her stomach do a dip and roll. “The President Who Wasn’t - Friend or Foe of Humanity?” was the title that jumped out at her. She debated dropping the class, but eventually settled on skipping week six.
It had been five years. It was still too soon.
She knows she’s lucky. She knows.
1. Her mutation is easily hidden. She can pass. 2. Her family loves her.
But she still wonders about the other side of her family. Her father was a foundling, albeit an oddly well-funded one from what her grandparents’ investigators could turn up. They never found anything on his family though, in spite of the money they poured into the endeavor. It’s a mystery, but they’re almost certainly the ones she got her x-gene from.
She knows that her father hated what she was. She knows. There are entire youtube channels devoted to his fiery speeches, preaching hate against her and others like her. Sometimes she can’t help but wonder what if. Would he have changed his mind if he knew about her? Probably not. She’ll never know for sure, but she wonders. She tries not to let it eat at her.
Sometimes she succeeds.
When Darcy was twelve years old, she woke up with buttery-gold eyes and blue freckles scattered like a thick coat of midnight stars on her otherwise fair skin. Her first thought was cool and then can I keep them? It didn’t occur to her to be scared until she smelled the fear on her mother.
Of course, she didn’t realize what she was smelling until Heather Lewis was well into the throes of a panic attack.
Her mother kept patting her hair and crying. “Oh baby, baby, it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out,” she kept whispering it, over and over like a mantra. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out.” Heather’s hands were shaking and tears were pouring down her face unacknowledged.
Darcy was terrified.
That was how her grandparents found them: Heather clutching Darcy close to her, shaking so hard she was near to swaying back and forth. Darcy holding her mother just as fiercely, crying just as hard in confusion and fear.
Grandpa took Darcy and grandma took her mom, in two hours they reconvened in the parlor. Darcy learned three things that day:
1. Her father’s name was Graydon Creed. 2. She was a mutant. 3. If either of the first two became well-known, she could be in danger. If both of the first two became known, she could die.
They danced around the ‘death’ thing, but even as a child she could read between the lines. Her father had been making a name for himself over the past few years, making waves in the political sphere with his group, “The Friends of Humanity.” He was making a campaign off of anti-mutant paranoia and if it ever got out that he had a daughter, out of wedlock, who was a mutant...the damage to his image would be catastrophic.
It was nothing but old money snobbery that had kept Graydon out of her life up to that point. Her grandparents had given her mother an ultimatum: keep her boyfriend or keep the child. If she’d chosen the former, they would have quietly arranged for her to have an abortion but allowed her to continue at her elite boarding school in much the same way she had, considering it a ‘warning’ of sorts. Heather chose the latter and allowed her parents to withdraw her from school and squirrel her away to a more remote estate where they could pretend that Darcy was her little sister.
That was the story they told. One of those polite society fictions that stood up as well as a tower of cards, remaining intact only as long as others were kind enough not to blow on it. It helped that Darcy’s grandmother was a society dame, the kind who could make or break reputations with a single word because she knew all the dirt and wouldn’t hesitate to use it. It helped even more that Darcy’s mother was quiet about her indiscretion, didn’t flaunt it or step out of the line her parents had drawn in the sand.
Heather chose her battles carefully and, nine times out of ten, she fought for Darcy rather than herself.
Darcy had been home-schooled by her mother’s choice up till the age of twelve. After the manifestation of her x-gene it became a necessity. She learned to metamorph away her more outlandish outward traits (the blue freckles and yellow eyes she got at twelve; the pointed canines and elongated ears she grew at thirteen; the retractible claws on hands and feet she sprouted at fifteen; the tail which she never told anyone about at seventeen) enough to go to high school.
All the while she watched her father’s support grow. She tracked his progress through papers and tv adverts, through her grandfather’s blustery remarks about his dim prospects to the very real fear behind her mother and grandmother’s eyes. If Graydon Creed won, the mutants, as a whole, would lose.
Her father’s success would be her people’s downfall.
It fucked her up.
Then, days after formally announcing his candidacy for president, Graydon Creed was assassinated at a rally in Ohio.
It fucked her up worse.
In college, Darcy meets her first out-and-proud mutant.
There had been none at the fancy private boarding school she’d attended. Even if there had been, she wouldn’t have been allowed to associate with them. Creed’s death might have made the world safer for mutants and, in a very specific sort of way, Darcy, but there were plenty ready to pick up his banner of hate and intolerance. The very last thing the Lewises wanted was for Darcy to come out of the closet and be hurt.
Darcy knows that that rule comes from a place of caring. She can literally smell it on them. That doesn’t make their active and aggressive denial of a very real part of her hurt any less.
So when she meets the girl called Lorna, it’s a revelation.
Lorna has green hair, and not just on her head: all of her visible body hair is green. She lives on Darcy’s floor and by the end of the first week of freshman year, they’ve swapped assigned roommates so they can live together. Lorna doesn’t say if her x-gene does more than give her awesome hair and Darcy never asks.
Darcy doesn’t tell her the truth, but it’s a near thing. The fear is just too deeply ingrained. She regrets it when the X-Men come for Lorna, halfway through sophomore year. She doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye properly, stuck in class when Lorna up and leaves.
They still exchange emails though.
“Did you love him, mom?” Darcy asked, once, in that brief, awful period between finding out who her father was and seeing him shot on national tv.
Heather had shrugged, pulling her daughter closer to tuck under her arm. “Part of me still loves him,” she admitted quietly. “He gave me you.”
“But without me, you could still be with him,” she said, soft like a secret.
Her mother tilted her head to the side, thinking very carefully about Darcy’s not-quite-a-question. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I’d like to think that I would have left him when I saw how deep the hate ran, but...” She smiled a little wistfully, “Your father was - is a very charismatic man. You’ve got a little of that spark. No, really.” Her lips pressed together and a wrinkle formed between her eyes, “I’m sorry I can’t give you a better answer. I don’t know what would have happened without you, but honey?”
“Yeah?”
“I chose you over him. I will always choose you.”
Her mother is a librarian and her father was a politician and Darcy...
Darcy is a perpetual student of life, or at least that’s how she tries to sell it to her grandparents. She manages six years at Culver, ends up with a double major in political science and biology, one minor in social justice. It’s unfortunate for her that Culver requires more diversity in certain fields. She still has six credits of science requirement to kill and two options:
1. Take Rocks for Jocks. 2. Intern with a crazy astrophysicist.
Darcy takes the internship and never looks back.
She learned control out of necessity. It was learn control or be confined to the estate. Her mother did most of the real work, teaching her to meditate, helping her figure out how to associate scents with emotions and physiological tells. But sometimes Darcy just felt so pent-up, so caged.
She learned to escape into her own head.
She fell into music and let it express all the emotions she couldn’t. All the things she wanted to say and ways she wanted to react and had to hold back every moment of every single day. Her body, the one natural to her, had claws and a tail and fangs and elongated pupils and heightened senses -
Sometimes she wondered, didn’t her family realize those manifestations were more than just cosmetic?
Sometimes she wondered, did they care?
Darcy knew, on some level, that her instincts weren’t wrong just different.
It didn’t always help.
Jane is the second person Darcy wants to tell.
Not so much because she epically trusts her on sight or anything, but, well, Jane has a tendency to get a little too caught up in science and forget things like showering or cleaning. It’s a problem. Darcy grew up in a house kept clean by a weekly service. Darcy has always kept her dorm room as clean as possible because her nose demands it.
Living and working with Jane is...an adjustment.
The Thor thing? That’s enough to send Darcy’s entire world out of alignment.
CAST LIST -
Darcy Lewis (Creed)
Heather Lewis
Josephine Lewis
Abernathy Lewis
Graydon Creed
Mystique
Victor Creed
BONUS
Lorna Dane
#amuse writes stuff#darcy lewis#graydon creed#victor creed#mystique#mutant!darcy#darcy is a mutant#darcy is graydon creed's daughter#darcy is the most repressed feral mutant in the history of ever#lorna dane#various ocs (darcy's family)#i didn't get to the part where wolverine meets her and smells mystique and assumes she IS mystique and nearly disembowels her#or the part where sabretooth kidnaps her to teach her how to feral#or the part where mystique shows up for realsies and true fun is had#also could not figure out who to ship her with no lie#also also the part where all of the many kids and adopted kids of her blood relatives find her and decide to befriend her#darcy's wacky extended family (drama)
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A Badass With A Nice Ass
A/N: Requested by @fandomscompilation . Sorry, this took so long but because I haven’t written in a while I had INSANE writer’s block and then I kept getting distracted and aaaa. But I finally did it :’) It’s not as good as I’d have liked it to be but I hope you like it.
Warnings: Blood, flirty bar women???
Words: 2776
Tagging: @mycuddlycorner
If the sun’s rays shining directly onto your face weren’t enough to wake you, then the rowdy teenagers outside your motel would probably do the trick. You opened your tired eyes, blinking several times as they adjusted to the brightness of the room. With a groan you sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the lumpy mattress before stretching out your stiff limbs. Nothing like a dirty, cheap motel to recharge the batteries.
A yawn escaped your mouth as you stood, making your way to the bathroom for a shower. As the water started running, you peeled yesterday’s grimy clothes from your skin, throwing them into the far corner of the cramped room. Stepping into the shower, you sighed as the water hit your body. Typical motel and their terrible water pressure, it wasn’t even remotely hot as you began washing your hair, massaging your scalp with shampoo and conditioner in hopes to wash off the groggy morning feeling. You scrubbed your body within an inch of its life as the water went from warm to freezing and back to warm again, constantly fluctuating as you rushed to get out and into something comfortable.
Turning off the flow, you hopped out the shower, wrapping yourself in the rough fabric of a motel towel before walking through to the bedroom. You grabbed a black tank top and a pair of skinny jeans to change into then paired them with your favourite black leather boots and a blue and red flannel. Once changed, you threw the dirty clothes in your duffel bag and hoisted it over your shoulder with ease as you left the room behind in search for a coffee and a newspaper to try and catch the next case.
Securing yourself into your Volvo XC90 T8, you set off in search of a half decent black Americano to fuel your day. You stopped at a gas station just outside of the small town, filling your tank and snatching up a newspaper along with something unhealthy for breakfast. Moving to the side of a country road, you scanned over any articles of interest whilst sipping on your tepid coffee. A murder in Atlanta. A missing child in Detroit. Some serial killer in Austin. Then something caught your eye. Three bodies drained of blood in Ohio. Sounds suspicious enough.
With that, you set off on an eight-hour drive across the country.
---
It was seven in the evening when you had arrived and you were exhausted from travelling. Nevertheless, you stayed up doing some last minute research on the deaths nearby whilst chowing down on a hefty sandwich. Taking off your plaid shirt and jeans, you crawled into bed, setting up a radio on the bedside table that tapped into the police force’s frequencies. If anything was discovered, you’d know.
You were lucky if you even got three hours of sleep because of the damn near constant radio chatter. The bags under your eyes were a prominent indication of that. With a huff, you dragged yourself out of the covers and repeated your morning routine, changing into your formal wear so you could visit the bodies in the morgue today. On your way, you grabbed a cup of strong coffee, desperate for some sort of boost this morning. Upon arriving, you flashed your ID to the small, plump man in a lab coat who then guided you to the morgue, pulling out the three bodies.
“FBI huh? Two of your buddies just left, one was a giant, you know ‘em?” He questioned. Could he be any vaguer?
“Ugh probably Hewy and Dewy from the office, they’re a little weird.” You played along, joking lightly with the man. The coffee must be kicking in.
“Ha, yeah, they were asking all sorts of odd questions about sulphur and black goo. Something off about those guys I’m tellin’ ya” He explained. “Anyway take your time, I’m going on a break for fifteen minutes so feel free to ask questions then.” He finished before hurrying off.
You swiftly got to work checking for all the telltale signs of typical supernatural creatures, taking note of anything unusual that you found. After about ten minutes of examining the corpses, you left, coming to the conclusion that it was probably a rogue vamp or a den. Climbing back into your car, you started the engine, radio buzzing to life with reports of another body found not too far from where you were and so you sped off to the scene.
You had been checking the area for any leads when you heard one of the investigators speak behind you.
“One of your friends is right over there actually, detectives.”
The word ‘detectives’ caught your attention and you turned to find an incredibly tall puppy looking man with long hair with his partner who was shorter but ruggedly handsome.These must be the two from the morgue. They sauntered over whilst scanning the crime scene with hard stares. They didn’t look much like detectives. You continued searching the dead man’s pockets for any hint as to where the den could be. There was a small slip in his inner jacket from a bar called Rick’s. It was worth checking out.
“Detective.” A gruff voice chimed from behind you. It was the shorter one. He looked exhausted, a four-day old stubble lining his chiselled jaw. You gave them both a small nod before asking what they knew so far.
“Three bodies, drained of blood but no evidence of them bleeding out anywhere besides the puncture wounds around their pulse points. All males in their mid-thirties seen around the same bar.” He explained as if he had said it a thousand times before. It didn’t seem to phase him at all.
“Let me guess, Rick’s?” You asked raising your brows and holding up the slip from the man’s pocket. The tall one nodded. “What are your names? If we’re going to be working together on this we should at least know that much about each other.” You smiled, waiting for their answers. They pulled out their ID badges and you quickly realised that they were expired. Interesting.
“I’m agent Page and this is agent Bonham.” The tired one lied.
“Huh, like Led Zeppelin? Cool.” You jeered with a knowing smirk. Who were they really? “Is that your car?” Tilting your head towards the 67 Chevy Impala to distract them. When they turned to look at their car, you saw a flash of a knife with a pentagram carved into the hilt in one of their inside pockets. Hunters. As they turned back you gave a quick fake smile, suddenly weary of the two.
“Yeah, she’s my baby.” He looked at you with a proud grin. Looking back at the body, you decided that you had enough to go on to take down the vampire den so you started to walk back to your car.
“Well, I think I have everything I need. Agents.” You nodded in farewell.
You drove back to the grungy motel you were staying in to quickly get changed before heading to the bar. On your way into town, you could have sworn you drove past it, the big neon sign was broken, the bottom half of the ‘R’ in Rick’s failing to light up anymore.
The inside of the bar was as broken as the outside. It smelled like cigarettes and cheap beer, the patrons you walked passed stunk of dollar store cologne almost as if they bathed in it. The bartender looked like he had seen some shit too. A group of men in heavy jackets played pool in the corner, the sound of cheers and the clacking of pool balls hitting each other filling your ears as they drank their pints.
Walking over to the bar, you settled onto a stool off to the side by the toilets. It gave you a good view of the whole bar which was helpful. You ordered straight scotch with ice whilst you eyed a few of the more suspicious customers in the room. A man in a leather jacket and red t-shirt sat in a darker booth on his own. His hair was a mess, but not the kind of mess that was unattractive. It was ruffled and dark with a small patch of grey even though he looked no older than 30. Thick stubble graced his jaw and his mysterious eyes locked with yours for a moment before flickering back at his glass of spirit.
A low rumble could be heard faintly in the distance outside of the establishment, growing closer and closer before stopping right outside. Car doors slam before the ‘agents’ from earlier waltz in, this time in jeans and jackets instead of suits. They fit in better than you did in your flannel and shorts. Their eyes glided across the room before settling on you and walking over to the empty stools beside you. The man who calls himself Page takes the seat next to you while his partner stayed on his other side.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a dump like this?” He joked, glancing at you out the corner of his forest green eyes. Scoffing, you took another sip of your scotch, focussing on the burn as it ran through your body. “Seen anything yet?” He added. You shook your head.
“Just a couple of weirdos that I have my eye on but no one has left together or made any moves. That guy in the booth keeps looking at me though.” You admitted with a smirk, eyes moving to look at him as he finished his drink.
The boys ordered themselves a beer each and scoped the place out. About half an hour of idle chit chat passed before you caved in and asked them.
“So what are your real names?” Their eyes immediately widened in shock at your question. “Come on, I’m not an idiot, I saw your knife earlier and I know you’re hunters so what are your real names.” You pressed, cocking an eyebrow. They both fidgeted suddenly uncomfortable in their seats.
“I’m Dean, this is Sam.” He admitted with furrowed brows. His lips were pushed into a tight line as he looked you up and down as if assessing whether or not you were a threat. You rolled your eyes.
“Chill, I’m only here to get rid of the problem like you.” You sighed. Ordering another scotch, you turned to find a woman sitting next to Sam in an attempt to gain his attention. Narrowing your eyes and nudging Dean, you nodded your head in her direction, watching as Sam pointedly ignored her advances. The lack of conversation only spurred her on, gripping his thigh and whispering in his ear which in turn made him scrunch up his face in what almost seemed like a grimace.
“Could that be the vamp? Sam fits the pattern; male, mid-thirties.” You said barely above a whisper, still looking at the woman. Her dark eyes were fixed on the tall man, eyelashes battering lightly against her high cheekbones. Licking her painted lips, she took a sip of her red wine and moved on to Dean, swaying her hips as she sauntered over.
He played along, flirting and buying her another drink. She couldn’t have gotten any closer to him, pressing her body against his as he grabbed her hips and chuckled. Impressive, you thought. She bent over slightly, showing off her ass as she whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, and you had a pretty good idea, it made him swiftly finish his drink as she dragged him out of the bar. Both you and Sam looked at each other before gathering your jackets and shadowing the two.
She leads Dean down several dark alleyways before stopping in front of a warehouse. Sam and yourself were watching from afar and in the dark so you weren’t spotted. Dean pinned her against the door, kissing down the woman’s neck as he opened the warehouse and practically fell in. You pulled a machete out of your olive jacket, Sam mimicking your actions before sneaking in behind them.
Upon entering the old, dank building, the pair saw Dean with the woman behind him, fangs threatening to puncture his neck if they moved a step closer. Sam visibly tensed.
“You honestly thought that I couldn’t smell your hunter stench following me? I thought you guys were supposed to be smart.” She hissed. More vampires seemingly appeared out of the darkness of the warehouse, easily surrounding the four. You instantly jumped into a fighting stance, back to back with Sam. You’d been in worse situations. Dean made some snarky remark but you didn’t hear him as you counted the reinforcements. Fifteen. There were fifteen god damned vamps. Sixteen if you included the woman currently baring her teeth at you.
As she continued talking to Sam and Dean, you reached into your jacket pocket, producing a small handgun. Swiftly turning to the woman, you shot at her shoulder which obviously did nothing but distract her but it allowed Dean to break free of her grip, joining his brother and yourself in the middle. A fight immediately broke out. You slashed and beheaded and kicked and punched every vamp that came near you, slicing through them with ease. Dodging a blow from one of the undead you quickly drove your blade through it’s abdomen then pulled it back and slashed its throat, the head hitting the floor and rolling away.
Amongst all the ass kicking Dean kept glancing over at you between hits, at first to make sure you were holding your own but now he was simply admiring your physique. The tank top you wore showed off your toned abdomen, the muscles moving underneath your skin. Your strong, attractive legs danced around the sorry vamp who tried to get a punch in before lifting one to kick it in the jaw. His eyes raked down your body as he took out another bloodsucker. He had to admit, you were hot.
Only two remained and they looked terrified. The blood of their former friend’s was splattered all over your clothes and exposed skin as you stalked them, breathing heavily at the physical demand of the fight. Your pupils were blown wide with the adrenaline from the whole ordeal and they were locked onto your target. With two quick strides, you kicked in the back of one’s knee, sending it to the floor before chopping off it’s head. Sam had taken care of the last one as you walked back towards Dean who was staring at you with a look of something akin to adoration.
“You are one badass hunter.” He smirked, gazing at your compact form. A smirk of your own painted itself onto your lips as you looked at him.
“I know.” You chuckled, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Using the back of your hand to wipe some of the gore from your face, you surveyed the area, checking that all of them were dealt with. Sam stood a few feet away, wiping down his machete on one of the body’s clothing. “I’ve been hunting since I was in diapers, my mom taught me everything I know.” You confessed, a small smile gracing your delicate features.
The walk back to the cars was silent. It wasn’t awkward, but rather comfortable as if you were all calming down from the events that had occurred just moments ago. Throwing your weapons into the trunk of your SUV, you sighed realising how worn out you were. A slam of a car door grabbed your attention and you saw Dean strutting over to you as Sam sat in the Impala.
“Hey, listen, you were kicking some mean ass back there and I just wanted to say thanks for helping us out.” He began. You opened your mouth to say something but he held up a hand to signal he wasn’t finished. “If you ever need a hand, this is my number” he continued, holding out a torn piece of paper with a mobile number scrawled in black ink. “We can’t just let a girl with those skills go.” Dean finished, his voice low. Taking the paper, you grinned but when you looked back up to say something, he was already getting into his car.
Biting your lip, you let out a small chuckle, opening your door and climbing into the driver’s seat. As the engine came to life, the thoughts of teaming up with them again flooded your mind as you drove off down the highway to find another case.
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Day 55 of Peter and Xara the Goat's Curse:
Battle of the Bands of Goats, Walrus Bear Pigs, Cats, Clowns, and Asgardian Gods, part 3
A/N: This story is cartoonish and does not necessarily make sense.
"Fuck you!!!" Everyone in the meeting hall sang before they bleated.
"Peter W. Parker, your orange hair makes it easy for us to troll you!" Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater sang.
Murphee howled in agreement.
Kissy walked over to Peter and sang, "I'm here, motherfucker."
"I'm here, motherfucker!" Everyone sang to Peter before bleating.
Peter bleated and was one with his inner goat. He then sang, "Fuck this! After the spaghetti squash dinner, I'm out of here."
"Spaghetti squash! Spaghetti squash! We can't wait for spaghetti squash! It will be delicious!!! Dee-dee-deelicious!!!!" Everyone sang.
"I fucking love this organiiiizzaaaaatiiiiionnnn!!!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang loudly.
"You are inducted! You are inducted! Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing! You are inducted into the secret society of gooooooaats!" Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater sang before he chanted. "Come on the stage!"
"You are inducted! You are inducted! Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing! You are inducted into the secret society of gooooooaats!" Everyone sang before he, she, or it chanted. "Go on the stage."
Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing went on the stage. He waved to everyone and thanked us for having him. Kissy meowed at him.
Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater pointed at Kissy. "Come here, cat. I require thee," he said.
Everyone else sang, "Go there, cat. He requires thee."
Kissy walked quickly on the stage. Everyone said, "Awwwww!!!" as she crossed over to Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater.
"Are you not an inductee of the secret society of goats as well?" Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater asked as he petted her.
"I am," Kissy answered as she purred. "My Mommy is a high-ranking officer."
"Well then you are also required to sign and say the oath of the secret society of goats," Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater said as he scratched her belly.
Peter's phone alerted him of a text. I was sitting next to Peter, so I was able to see his text messages. He sighed.
Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater went on with the inductions. If you are rank 10 or above, you are allowed to have your phone on because you are that fucking important.
My inner goat told me to look at Peter's text messages.
Jamie texted him, "I need you to fix my wheelchair. The remote isn't working. I need you to fix the tables in the garage. They're broken. I need you to fix OUR toilet. It's now broken. I need you to fix the toilet garden. You broke it in Episode 3. I need you to fix the carpet and drywall in your room. It's mentally scarring. I need you to fix the ceiling. Pennywise is coming through the ceiling, and it's freaking me out."
"Dad, Dad, Dad," Peter muttered.
Another text message showed up on his phone. This time, it was from his mother, Godiva Parker. "I hope you're having fun at your party. Your father requires a lot from you. I told him *not* to bother you, even if the clown from "It" the Stephen King novel is indeed coming down from our ceiling. He's talking about stuff floating from our toilet. Oh brother. This guy's obnoxious. When you're done being a rockstar, come home."
Peter smiled and responded, "Actually, everyone's trolling me because of my ORANGE hair. I'd do anything to get my hair to an auburn color. Literally. Ha!
Yes. I got a long to-do list text message from him. He mentioned Pennywise coming out of the ceiling. Oh brother. Never a dull moment at home. I leave home to relax."
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig texted me. "Garfield sends his regards by meowing. I'm cooking the spaghetti squash with meatballs and alfredo sauce. It's taking forever to scoop out the seeds. How is Kissy's induction ceremony?"
I responded, "Pet Gar for me. Tell him 'Hey Bubba.' Also, when will the meal be done? Everyone sang a song about the meal when you left. Kissy is doing fine. She can meow and bleat at the same time. She also sounds like a wind-up toy you'd get at Toys R Us."
Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and Kissy were signing the appropriate forms to become members of the secret society of goats.
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig responded, "At least another hour. Ugh. Bad timing. P.S. Garfield is laying near my feet."
I responded, "I love that animal."
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig responded, "I love you. 30 seconds until I grow man-boobs. Oh wait. Too late."
I laughed out loud at that comment.
Mr. Thor the Appliance Beater turned to me. "I'm glad someone laughed at my joke. But seriously, my band is called Mr. Thor and the Interrupters. I legally removed "The Appliance Beater" from my title. I got tired of writing it on every document I signed."
"Screw the appliances! Where are the-" Peter started to ask.
"It doesn't matter," Mr. Thor answered.
"But you didn't-," Peter started to say.
"You're a dick!" Mr. Thor exclaimed.
I started laughing and rolling on the floor.
"You know what fuck-" Peter started to say.
"You!!!!" Mr. Thor said.
"Apparently the idea behind this game is-" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing started to say.
"Is to interrupt the other person!" Peter yelled before going on stage.
Ronald McDonald went on stage with Peter and started singing.
The line of goats on the stage started singing.
Murphee barked to interrupt everyone. "Fuck Peter," he said.
"Good idea!" one of the females in the group said.
"No orgasm for you, miss," Peter said. "At least, not while-"
"We're interrupting each other," I blurted out.
Everyone started to bleat before the four rams bleated to interrupt us.
I laughed my head off some more. Lindsay interrupted my laughing by laughing.
Prince Carrington started to ask, "Am I immune-"
"No!" Kissy said with a loud and long meow that got interrupted by Peter starting to sing and dance.
The Rams played some hard rock music in the background.
"No!" Ronald McDonald shouted.
"Sleep!" Peter sang.
"Till!" the line of goats yelled.
"Bleating!" the audience yelled.
"Bleating!" Peter and Ronald McDonald sang loudly.
Peter and Ronald McDonald started to dance on stage before Murphee jumped in front of them and barked loudly.
Peter and Ronald McDonald jumped to the left and stepped to the right.
The rams started playing the "Time Warp" from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Everyone sang. "First we jump to the left. Then we step to the riiiiiiggggghtttt."
"With a pelvic thrust! Which we do in time!!!!" Mr. Thor interrupted.
"Let's do the time warp again!!" Peter sang loudly.
"Let's do the time warp again!!" Ronald McDonald sang loudly.
Kissy sneezed.
"Gesundheit!" Everyone yelled.
Kissy jumped off the stage and was sniffing my coffee.
"Get out of my coffee," I said.
"Get out of her coffee!" everyone said.
"Apparently we did the time warp again," Peter said.
All of a sudden, a basenji burst through the door.
Everyone turned to see Tug running up the aisle to the stage.
"I thought I locked the door..." Murphee said. He did a kujo growl.
"Oh shut it. Will you? I'm here on official business. I know it's not goat business, but this is important," Tug said.
"Well why not? This whole meeting has turned into a series of interruptions. What better way to conduct business than to have a random fox dog burst into the meeting," Mr. Thor said.
Tug stood on stage and howled before he walked over to Peter.
"Tug! What are you doing here, boi?!" Peter asked as he petted his dog.
"Awwwwww!!!!" Everyone said before they bleated.
"I need to let you know that I cope with your existence every day. I also want the world to cope with the fact that I can talk. I can even siiiiing. But. I can't bark. Am I a dog or a fox?" Tug asked.
"I'll be honest. You be whom you want to be. I do all the time. Today, I want to be a rockstar who sings in bleats," Peter said.
Tug howled and then started singing, "What's New Pussycat?!"
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoaaaa!!!!!" Everyone else would sing at appropriate times.
After the song was over, Tug walked to the front of the stage and said to Peter, "I am going to demand that you feed me now. Thank you."
At that moment, Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig walked in with a bunch of spaghetti squash and meatballs in Alfredo sauce. "Dig in!!!!" he commanded.
Everyone gathered spoons, forks, knives, plates, and bowls and dug into the masterpiece called Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig's cooking.
Kissy was munching on a meatball while Tug ate some spaghetti squash. Murphee chowed down like there was no tomorrow.
"This is dee-dee-dee-deelicious!" Everyone chanted. There were celebratory bleats.
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig growled like a bear and said, "Dee-licious!!!" He ate another bite.
Even the rams and goats ate happily. They bleated to show pleasure.
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig cuddled with Kissy while they ate together. She meowed like a wind-up toy to signify that she was ready to rock and roll.
I finished my meal and then went on stage.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and animals. I want to perform a song with my bae. It's called 'Public Beatings.'"
The goats bleated in happiness.
Kissy went on the stage and meowed as though she were an instrument.
"Public Beatings! Public Beatings! I love to give those Public Beatings!" I sang.
Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig waddled on the stage and sang, "I want you to open your window and yell, 'I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore.' Ohio is one big Norman Bates phenomenon."
Everyone in the room yelled, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore."
Kissy coughed and sneezed before meowing as though she were a sitar.
"Easy easy easy easy beats!" I sang operatically. I then proceeded to softly beat Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig.
"My love! Here you go! I profess my love to thee as I'm getting beat. Getting beat!" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig sung.
The rams were playing their instruments while the line of goats bleated and sang, "Getting beat! Getting beat!"
"I'm not gonna take it anymore! I'm not gonna take it anymore! I spawn! I die!" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig sang. "I hope you all enjoy the khatents of my butt as I'm getting beat!"
Mr. Thor beat the cymbal. "Not that kind of meeting. No pooping on stage. K thanks," he said.
"It's not a song. It's a sandwich!" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig and I sang.
Kissy then jumped on Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig and bit his leg.
"Owwwww! That hurt! Your teeth hurt like pins and needles!" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig sang loudly.
Kissy continued to meow like an instrument.
"You know you're my bear if you get beat I public!" I sang as I beat Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig.
Kissy meowed an operatic meow.
Murphee howled operatically.
Tug howled and threw in what barks he could.
"One two three four with your ass. I'm gonna beat your ass right now," I sang.
Another animal entered the stage area dramatically. Garfield walked to the center stage in the middle of our song and sang,
"Get your ass ass ass off my table table table.
Get your ass ass ass off my table table table.
Get your fatass off my table! Get your fatass off my table! Get your fatass off my table. Table. Table. Get your fatass off my table!"
Garfield then walked off the stage and exited out the back door.
Kissy, Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig, and I bowed and signified that our song ended.
Everyone bleated and clapped because it was socially acceptable to clap at the end of a song.
Peter then blurted out, "Party at my house! Apparently, my dad wants me to do a bunch of shit, so I gotta go home. Anyone who wants to join me is welcome!"
Tug howled again.
Murphee howled.
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Medicaid Nearing ‘Eye Of The Storm’ As Newly Unemployed Look For Coverage
As the coronavirus roils the economy and throws millions of Americans out of work, Medicaid is emerging as a default insurance plan for many of the newly unemployed. That could produce unprecedented strains on the vital health insurance program, according to state officials and policy researchers.
Americans are being urged to stay home and practice “social distancing” to prevent the spread of the virus, causing businesses to shutter their doors and lay off workers. The Labor Department reported Thursday that more than 6.6 million people signed up for unemployment insurance during the week that ended March 28. This number shattered the record set the previous week, with 3.3 million sign-ups. Many of these newly unemployed people may turn to Medicaid for their families.
Policymakers have often used Medicaid to help people gain health coverage and health care in response to disasters such as Hurricane Katrina, the water crisis in Flint, Michigan, and the 9/11 terrorist attacks. But never has it faced a public health crisis and economic emergency in which people nationwide need its help all in virtually the same month.
“Medicaid is absolutely going to be in the eye of the storm here,” said Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families. “It is the backbone of our public health system, our public coverage system, and will see increased enrollment due to the economic conditions.”
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Meeting those needs will require hefty investments ― both in money and manpower.
Medicaid — which is run jointly by the states and federal government and covers about 70 million Americans ― is already seeing early application spikes. Because insurance requests typically lag behind those for other benefits, the numbers are expected to grow in the coming months.
“We have been through recessions in the past, such as in 2009, and saw what that meant,” said Matt Salo, who heads the National Association of Medicaid Directors. “We are going to see that on steroids.”
The majority of states have expanded their Medicaid programs since 2014 to cover more low-income adults under a provision in the Affordable Care Act. That may help provide a cushion in those areas. In the 14 states that have chosen not to expand, many of the newly unemployed adults will not be eligible for coverage.
It’s possible the pandemic could change the decision-making calculus for non-expansion states, Salo said. “The pandemic is like a punch in the mouth.”
But even without expansion in those states, the Medicaid rolls could increase with more children coming into the system as their families’ finances deteriorate. Many states don’t have the resources or systems in place to meet the demand.
“It is going to hit faster and harder than we’ve ever experienced before,” Salo said.
The unique circumstances of social distancing impose new challenges for those whose jobs are to enroll people for coverage. In California, where more than a million people have filed for unemployment insurance since March 13, much of the workforce that would typically be signing people up and processing their paperwork is now working from home, which adds a layer of complexity in terms of accessing files and documents, and can inhibit communication.
“It’s going to be certainly more difficult than it was under the [2008] recession,” said Cathy Senderling-McDonald, deputy executive director for the County Welfare Directors Association of California. She said that although strides have been made in the past decade to set up better online forms and call centers, it will still be a heavy lift to get people enrolled without seeing them in person.
In some states, the challenges to the system are already noticeable.
Utah, for instance, has seen a 46% increase in applications for Medicaid. (These applications can be for individuals or families.) In March 2019, about 14,000 people applied. This March, it was more than 20,400.
“Our services are needed now more than ever,” said Muris Prses, assistant director of eligibility services for the Utah Department of Workforce Services, which processes Medicaid enrollment. The state typically takes 15 days to determine whether someone is eligible, he said, though that will increase by several days because of the surge in applicants and some staff working at home.
In Nevada, where the hotel- and casino-dominated economy has been hit particularly hard, applications for public benefits programs, including food stamps and Medicaid, skyrocketed from 200 a day in February to 2,000 in mid-March, according to the state Department of Health and Human Services. The volume of calls to a consumer hotline for Medicaid and health coverage questions is four times the regular amount.
In Ohio, the number of Medicaid applications has already exceeded what’s typical for this time of year. The state expects that figure to continue to climb.
States that haven’t yet seen the surge warned that it’s almost certainly coming. And as layoffs continue, some are already experiencing the strains on the system, including processing times that could leave people uninsured for months, while Medicaid applications process.
For 28-year-old Kristen Wolfe, of Salt Lake City, who lost her job and her employer-sponsored health insurance March 20, it’s a terrifying time.
Wolfe, who has lupus — an autoimmune disorder that requires regular doctor appointments and prescription medication ― quickly applied for Medicaid. But after she filled in her details, including a zero-dollar income, she learned the decision on her eligibility could take as long as 90 days. She called the Utah Medicaid agency and, after being on hold for more than an hour, was told they did not know when she would hear back.
“With my health, it’s scary to leave things in limbo,” said Wolfe, who used her almost-expired insurance last week to order 90-day medication refills, just in case. “I am pretty confident I will qualify, but there is always the ‘What if I don’t?’”
Others have reported smoother sailing, though.
Jen Wittlin, 33 — who, until recently, managed the now-closed bar in Providence, Rhode Island’s Dean Hotel ― qualified for Medicaid coverage starting April 1. She was able to sign up online after waiting about half an hour on the phone to get help answering specific questions. Once she receives a check for unemployment insurance, the state will reassess her income — currently zero ― to see if she still qualifies.
“It was all immediate,” she said.
In fact, she said, she is now working to help newly uninsured former colleagues also enroll in the program, using the advice the state gave her.
In California, officials are trying to reassign some employees — who are now working remotely ― to help with the surge. But the system to determine Medicaid eligibility is complicated and requires time-intensive training, Senderling-McDonald said. She’s trying to rehire people who’ve retired and relying on overtime from staffers.
“It’s hard to expand this particular workforce very, very quickly by a lot,” she said. “We can’t just stick a new person in front of a computer and tell them to go. They’re going to screw everything up.”
The move away from in-office sign-ups is also a disadvantage for older people and those who speak English as a second language, two groups who frequently felt more comfortable enrolling in person, she added.
Meanwhile, increasing enrollment and the realities of the coronavirus will likely create a need for costly medical care across the population.
“What about when we start having many people who may be in the hospital, in ICUs or on ventilators?” said Maureen Corcoran, the director of Ohio’s Medicaid program. “We don’t have any specific answers yet.”
These factors will hit just as states ― which will experience shrinking tax revenue because of the plunging economy — have less money to pay their share of the Medicaid tab.
“It’s all compounded,” said Lisa Watson, a deputy secretary at Pennsylvania’s Department of Human Services, which oversees Medicaid.
The federal government pays, on average, about 61% of the costs for traditional Medicaid and about 90% of the costs for people who joined the program through the ACA expansion. The rest comes from state coffers. And, unlike the federal government, states are constitutionally required to balance their budgets. The financial squeeze could force cuts in other areas, like education, child welfare or law enforcement.
On March 18, Congress agreed to bump up what Washington pays by 6.2 percentage points as part of the second major stimulus bill aimed at the economic consequences of the pandemic. That will barely make a dent, Salo argued.
“The small bump is good, and we are glad it’s there, but in no way is that going to be sufficient,” he said.
Medicaid Nearing ‘Eye Of The Storm’ As Newly Unemployed Look For Coverage published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/
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Text
Medicaid Nearing ‘Eye Of The Storm’ As Newly Unemployed Look For Coverage
As the coronavirus roils the economy and throws millions of Americans out of work, Medicaid is emerging as a default insurance plan for many of the newly unemployed. That could produce unprecedented strains on the vital health insurance program, according to state officials and policy researchers.
Americans are being urged to stay home and practice “social distancing” to prevent the spread of the virus, causing businesses to shutter their doors and lay off workers. The Labor Department reported Thursday that more than 6.6 million people signed up for unemployment insurance during the week that ended March 28. This number shattered the record set the previous week, with 3.3 million sign-ups. Many of these newly unemployed people may turn to Medicaid for their families.
Policymakers have often used Medicaid to help people gain health coverage and health care in response to disasters such as Hurricane Katrina, the water crisis in Flint, Michigan, and the 9/11 terrorist attacks. But never has it faced a public health crisis and economic emergency in which people nationwide need its help all in virtually the same month.
“Medicaid is absolutely going to be in the eye of the storm here,” said Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families. “It is the backbone of our public health system, our public coverage system, and will see increased enrollment due to the economic conditions.”
Email Sign-Up
Subscribe to KHN’s free Morning Briefing.
Sign Up
Please confirm your email address below:
Sign Up
Meeting those needs will require hefty investments ― both in money and manpower.
Medicaid — which is run jointly by the states and federal government and covers about 70 million Americans ― is already seeing early application spikes. Because insurance requests typically lag behind those for other benefits, the numbers are expected to grow in the coming months.
“We have been through recessions in the past, such as in 2009, and saw what that meant,” said Matt Salo, who heads the National Association of Medicaid Directors. “We are going to see that on steroids.”
The majority of states have expanded their Medicaid programs since 2014 to cover more low-income adults under a provision in the Affordable Care Act. That may help provide a cushion in those areas. In the 14 states that have chosen not to expand, many of the newly unemployed adults will not be eligible for coverage.
It’s possible the pandemic could change the decision-making calculus for non-expansion states, Salo said. “The pandemic is like a punch in the mouth.”
But even without expansion in those states, the Medicaid rolls could increase with more children coming into the system as their families’ finances deteriorate. Many states don’t have the resources or systems in place to meet the demand.
“It is going to hit faster and harder than we’ve ever experienced before,” Salo said.
The unique circumstances of social distancing impose new challenges for those whose jobs are to enroll people for coverage. In California, where more than a million people have filed for unemployment insurance since March 13, much of the workforce that would typically be signing people up and processing their paperwork is now working from home, which adds a layer of complexity in terms of accessing files and documents, and can inhibit communication.
“It’s going to be certainly more difficult than it was under the [2008] recession,” said Cathy Senderling-McDonald, deputy executive director for the County Welfare Directors Association of California. She said that although strides have been made in the past decade to set up better online forms and call centers, it will still be a heavy lift to get people enrolled without seeing them in person.
In some states, the challenges to the system are already noticeable.
Utah, for instance, has seen a 46% increase in applications for Medicaid. (These applications can be for individuals or families.) In March 2019, about 14,000 people applied. This March, it was more than 20,400.
“Our services are needed now more than ever,” said Muris Prses, assistant director of eligibility services for the Utah Department of Workforce Services, which processes Medicaid enrollment. The state typically takes 15 days to determine whether someone is eligible, he said, though that will increase by several days because of the surge in applicants and some staff working at home.
In Nevada, where the hotel- and casino-dominated economy has been hit particularly hard, applications for public benefits programs, including food stamps and Medicaid, skyrocketed from 200 a day in February to 2,000 in mid-March, according to the state Department of Health and Human Services. The volume of calls to a consumer hotline for Medicaid and health coverage questions is four times the regular amount.
In Ohio, the number of Medicaid applications has already exceeded what’s typical for this time of year. The state expects that figure to continue to climb.
States that haven’t yet seen the surge warned that it’s almost certainly coming. And as layoffs continue, some are already experiencing the strains on the system, including processing times that could leave people uninsured for months, while Medicaid applications process.
For 28-year-old Kristen Wolfe, of Salt Lake City, who lost her job and her employer-sponsored health insurance March 20, it’s a terrifying time.
Wolfe, who has lupus — an autoimmune disorder that requires regular doctor appointments and prescription medication ― quickly applied for Medicaid. But after she filled in her details, including a zero-dollar income, she learned the decision on her eligibility could take as long as 90 days. She called the Utah Medicaid agency and, after being on hold for more than an hour, was told they did not know when she would hear back.
“With my health, it’s scary to leave things in limbo,” said Wolfe, who used her almost-expired insurance last week to order 90-day medication refills, just in case. “I am pretty confident I will qualify, but there is always the ‘What if I don’t?’”
Others have reported smoother sailing, though.
Jen Wittlin, 33 — who, until recently, managed the now-closed bar in Providence, Rhode Island’s Dean Hotel ― qualified for Medicaid coverage starting April 1. She was able to sign up online after waiting about half an hour on the phone to get help answering specific questions. Once she receives a check for unemployment insurance, the state will reassess her income — currently zero ― to see if she still qualifies.
“It was all immediate,” she said.
In fact, she said, she is now working to help newly uninsured former colleagues also enroll in the program, using the advice the state gave her.
In California, officials are trying to reassign some employees — who are now working remotely ― to help with the surge. But the system to determine Medicaid eligibility is complicated and requires time-intensive training, Senderling-McDonald said. She’s trying to rehire people who’ve retired and relying on overtime from staffers.
“It’s hard to expand this particular workforce very, very quickly by a lot,” she said. “We can’t just stick a new person in front of a computer and tell them to go. They’re going to screw everything up.”
The move away from in-office sign-ups is also a disadvantage for older people and those who speak English as a second language, two groups who frequently felt more comfortable enrolling in person, she added.
Meanwhile, increasing enrollment and the realities of the coronavirus will likely create a need for costly medical care across the population.
“What about when we start having many people who may be in the hospital, in ICUs or on ventilators?” said Maureen Corcoran, the director of Ohio’s Medicaid program. “We don’t have any specific answers yet.”
These factors will hit just as states ― which will experience shrinking tax revenue because of the plunging economy — have less money to pay their share of the Medicaid tab.
“It’s all compounded,” said Lisa Watson, a deputy secretary at Pennsylvania’s Department of Human Services, which oversees Medicaid.
The federal government pays, on average, about 61% of the costs for traditional Medicaid and about 90% of the costs for people who joined the program through the ACA expansion. The rest comes from state coffers. And, unlike the federal government, states are constitutionally required to balance their budgets. The financial squeeze could force cuts in other areas, like education, child welfare or law enforcement.
On March 18, Congress agreed to bump up what Washington pays by 6.2 percentage points as part of the second major stimulus bill aimed at the economic consequences of the pandemic. That will barely make a dent, Salo argued.
“The small bump is good, and we are glad it’s there, but in no way is that going to be sufficient,” he said.
Medicaid Nearing ‘Eye Of The Storm’ As Newly Unemployed Look For Coverage published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/
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Text
Medicaid Nearing ‘Eye Of The Storm’ As Newly Unemployed Look For Coverage
As the coronavirus roils the economy and throws millions of Americans out of work, Medicaid is emerging as a default insurance plan for many of the newly unemployed. That could produce unprecedented strains on the vital health insurance program, according to state officials and policy researchers.
Americans are being urged to stay home and practice “social distancing” to prevent the spread of the virus, causing businesses to shutter their doors and lay off workers. The Labor Department reported Thursday that more than 6.6 million people signed up for unemployment insurance during the week that ended March 28. This number shattered the record set the previous week, with 3.3 million sign-ups. Many of these newly unemployed people may turn to Medicaid for their families.
Policymakers have often used Medicaid to help people gain health coverage and health care in response to disasters such as Hurricane Katrina, the water crisis in Flint, Michigan, and the 9/11 terrorist attacks. But never has it faced a public health crisis and economic emergency in which people nationwide need its help all in virtually the same month.
“Medicaid is absolutely going to be in the eye of the storm here,” said Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families. “It is the backbone of our public health system, our public coverage system, and will see increased enrollment due to the economic conditions.”
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Subscribe to KHN’s free Morning Briefing.
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Meeting those needs will require hefty investments ― both in money and manpower.
Medicaid — which is run jointly by the states and federal government and covers about 70 million Americans ― is already seeing early application spikes. Because insurance requests typically lag behind those for other benefits, the numbers are expected to grow in the coming months.
“We have been through recessions in the past, such as in 2009, and saw what that meant,” said Matt Salo, who heads the National Association of Medicaid Directors. “We are going to see that on steroids.”
The majority of states have expanded their Medicaid programs since 2014 to cover more low-income adults under a provision in the Affordable Care Act. That may help provide a cushion in those areas. In the 14 states that have chosen not to expand, many of the newly unemployed adults will not be eligible for coverage.
It’s possible the pandemic could change the decision-making calculus for non-expansion states, Salo said. “The pandemic is like a punch in the mouth.”
But even without expansion in those states, the Medicaid rolls could increase with more children coming into the system as their families’ finances deteriorate. Many states don’t have the resources or systems in place to meet the demand.
“It is going to hit faster and harder than we’ve ever experienced before,” Salo said.
The unique circumstances of social distancing impose new challenges for those whose jobs are to enroll people for coverage. In California, where more than a million people have filed for unemployment insurance since March 13, much of the workforce that would typically be signing people up and processing their paperwork is now working from home, which adds a layer of complexity in terms of accessing files and documents, and can inhibit communication.
“It’s going to be certainly more difficult than it was under the [2008] recession,” said Cathy Senderling-McDonald, deputy executive director for the County Welfare Directors Association of California. She said that although strides have been made in the past decade to set up better online forms and call centers, it will still be a heavy lift to get people enrolled without seeing them in person.
In some states, the challenges to the system are already noticeable.
Utah, for instance, has seen a 46% increase in applications for Medicaid. (These applications can be for individuals or families.) In March 2019, about 14,000 people applied. This March, it was more than 20,400.
“Our services are needed now more than ever,” said Muris Prses, assistant director of eligibility services for the Utah Department of Workforce Services, which processes Medicaid enrollment. The state typically takes 15 days to determine whether someone is eligible, he said, though that will increase by several days because of the surge in applicants and some staff working at home.
In Nevada, where the hotel- and casino-dominated economy has been hit particularly hard, applications for public benefits programs, including food stamps and Medicaid, skyrocketed from 200 a day in February to 2,000 in mid-March, according to the state Department of Health and Human Services. The volume of calls to a consumer hotline for Medicaid and health coverage questions is four times the regular amount.
In Ohio, the number of Medicaid applications has already exceeded what’s typical for this time of year. The state expects that figure to continue to climb.
States that haven’t yet seen the surge warned that it’s almost certainly coming. And as layoffs continue, some are already experiencing the strains on the system, including processing times that could leave people uninsured for months, while Medicaid applications process.
For 28-year-old Kristen Wolfe, of Salt Lake City, who lost her job and her employer-sponsored health insurance March 20, it’s a terrifying time.
Wolfe, who has lupus — an autoimmune disorder that requires regular doctor appointments and prescription medication ― quickly applied for Medicaid. But after she filled in her details, including a zero-dollar income, she learned the decision on her eligibility could take as long as 90 days. She called the Utah Medicaid agency and, after being on hold for more than an hour, was told they did not know when she would hear back.
“With my health, it’s scary to leave things in limbo,” said Wolfe, who used her almost-expired insurance last week to order 90-day medication refills, just in case. “I am pretty confident I will qualify, but there is always the ‘What if I don’t?’”
Others have reported smoother sailing, though.
Jen Wittlin, 33 — who, until recently, managed the now-closed bar in Providence, Rhode Island’s Dean Hotel ― qualified for Medicaid coverage starting April 1. She was able to sign up online after waiting about half an hour on the phone to get help answering specific questions. Once she receives a check for unemployment insurance, the state will reassess her income — currently zero ― to see if she still qualifies.
“It was all immediate,” she said.
In fact, she said, she is now working to help newly uninsured former colleagues also enroll in the program, using the advice the state gave her.
In California, officials are trying to reassign some employees — who are now working remotely ― to help with the surge. But the system to determine Medicaid eligibility is complicated and requires time-intensive training, Senderling-McDonald said. She’s trying to rehire people who’ve retired and relying on overtime from staffers.
“It’s hard to expand this particular workforce very, very quickly by a lot,” she said. “We can’t just stick a new person in front of a computer and tell them to go. They’re going to screw everything up.”
The move away from in-office sign-ups is also a disadvantage for older people and those who speak English as a second language, two groups who frequently felt more comfortable enrolling in person, she added.
Meanwhile, increasing enrollment and the realities of the coronavirus will likely create a need for costly medical care across the population.
“What about when we start having many people who may be in the hospital, in ICUs or on ventilators?” said Maureen Corcoran, the director of Ohio’s Medicaid program. “We don’t have any specific answers yet.”
These factors will hit just as states ― which will experience shrinking tax revenue because of the plunging economy — have less money to pay their share of the Medicaid tab.
“It’s all compounded,” said Lisa Watson, a deputy secretary at Pennsylvania’s Department of Human Services, which oversees Medicaid.
The federal government pays, on average, about 61% of the costs for traditional Medicaid and about 90% of the costs for people who joined the program through the ACA expansion. The rest comes from state coffers. And, unlike the federal government, states are constitutionally required to balance their budgets. The financial squeeze could force cuts in other areas, like education, child welfare or law enforcement.
On March 18, Congress agreed to bump up what Washington pays by 6.2 percentage points as part of the second major stimulus bill aimed at the economic consequences of the pandemic. That will barely make a dent, Salo argued.
“The small bump is good, and we are glad it’s there, but in no way is that going to be sufficient,” he said.
from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/medicaid-nearing-eye-of-the-storm-as-newly-unemployed-look-for-coverage/
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Nine things I know for sure about flying in Michigan
Mac helps us launch a new Air Facts series for summer on what he knows for sure – and what you need to know – about flying in a particular state. Mac writes about his home state of Michigan, and soon John Zimmerman will write about what he knows for sure about flying in Ohio.
1. Michigan has lots and lots of water.
Michigan calls itself the Great Lakes State, which makes sense. Michigan is made up of two peninsulas. Its borders are three of the five Great Lakes. The only way in or out without crossing water is into Indiana or the corner of Ohio to the south.
All that water, plus thousands of inland natural lakes, are a big reason to fly to Michigan. But they are also a reason to plan your route carefully if you are uncomfortable flying over many miles of open water far from shore.
Water, water everywhere.
So much water also alters the air we fly through because some of that moisture wants to get back up into the atmosphere. Michigan may not be the cloudiest state in the union, but I haven’t spent time in one with more overcast days, especially in the winter. Typically the cloud cover is high enough for comfortable VFR flying, but if you can’t confidently fly IFR, be sure to build flexibility into your Michigan flying plans.
In the winter, much of that water turns into snow and ice, which is a great reason to visit the state. Michigan is home to one of only a couple of Olympic class luge sled runs in the country. The skiing isn’t anything like the Rockies, or even Vermont, but it’s the best in the Midwest. And if snowmobiling, snow shoeing, cross country skiing or ice fishing get your heart racing, we have it all here.
But for pilots being in the lee of the relatively warmer waters of the Great Lakes is the perfect recipe for inflight icing. Icing is there, at least a little, on most winter days. In fact, a helicopter manufacturer from Japan rented a hangar at my home airport, Muskegon County, last winter because they believed it was the most reliable location to find inflight icing to test its new helicopter. Being internationally famous for icing should be enough to warn any pilot of the danger of flying an unprotected airplane here when the clouds are cold.
2. Michigan has uncrowded skies.
Michigan has only one Class B airspace in the whole state, and that’s over Detroit in the far southeast corner. There are a smattering of Class C airspace circles around cities such as Grand Rapids, Kalamazoo, Lansing and Flint, but that’s about it. And those airports are in the southern part of the lower peninsula. If you want to roam VFR over the rest of the state without talking to controllers, or worrying much about other air traffic, you’re more than welcome.
Though the sky is not full of airplanes, Michigan has been very active over many years in building and maintaining airports. You’re never far from a paved runway in the lower peninsula. In the UP (Upper Peninsula), airports and people are a lot more spread out. That’s where you go to commune with nature, often in its undisturbed natural condition, so you won’t find airports close together.
But if grass strips and camping under the stars are your thing, its hard to beat either peninsula of Michigan. And if you really want to get away from it all, fly up to Houghton County on the Keweenaw Peninsula where you can hop a seaplane or ferry out to Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior. It’s pretty much you, a few campers, and the wolves on that remote island.
3. Michigan’s Mackinac: Flying Yes. Driving No.
Michigan’s historic Mackinac Island may be the only place where you can fly, but nobody can drive. All motorized vehicles on the island in the Mackinac straits that link Lake Huron to Lake Michigan are banned. But airplanes—powered airplanes, not gliders—are welcome.
There is a perfectly maintained 3,500-foot runway on Mackinac Island that is located within the Michigan State Park that covers much of the island, including Fort Mackinac that predates the founding of the nation. You can’t get fuel at Mackinac airport, or any other aviation service. You will be greeted by park rangers who direct you to parking and collect a modest landing fee. There are low minimum LPV RNAV approaches to both ends of the runway.
Mackinac is a beautiful island, but don’t look for cars.
Horse-drawn taxis will carry you down the hill into the town of Mackinac which is built around the harbor. Or you can rent a bike at the airport, or make the 20-minute walk on foot. But you won’t encounter a car, truck or even a moped. Boats in the harbor can have engines, and so can the airplanes at the airport, but all other travel is straight out of the 19thcentury.
The Grand Hotel with the world’s longest front porch looms over the town and harbor of Mackinac Island and the straits. It truly lives up to its grand name. It’s a pricy place to eat or stay, but is one of a kind. There are other less expensive hotels and many restaurants on the island but be sure to plan ahead because everything fills up fast.
One of the more gratifying things to do on Mackinac is watch all those poor ground-bound souls shuffle on to the ferry while your airplane awaits just up the hill at the airport. Where else does a horse pull you up to the ramp? Nowhere.
4. Michigan has miles and miles of sand.
I’m not sure how the icebergs that carved out the Great Lakes did it, but they left behind about 300 miles of beaches and sand dunes on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. The entire shore from the southern end to the tip of Grand Traverse Bay is nothing but sand. And it’s sand for several miles inland, too.
Sand dunes are just in from the beach and start at about 50 to 100 feet in height at the Indiana border. The dune is around 200 feet here in Grand Haven where I live, about a third of the way up the Lake Michigan shore. The dunes peak at 600 feet above water level at Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore that runs north from Frankfort.
Sleeping Bear is simply stunning in its natural beauty. You can hike the dunes, walk the beach, camp under the stars and let the kids run loose. And when you’re tired of that, not far away are challenging golf courses and interesting places to eat and stay. You can admire Sleeping Bear from the air, but, because it’s a wildlife refuge area, you’re instructed to fly no lower than 2,000 feet agl.
If soaking up the sun on one of the hundreds of miles of Lake Michigan beaches doesn’t suit your idea of summer, there are several locations that rent “beach buggies” so you can kick up the sand by pressing down with your right foot. One good place to rent a dune buggy to tear over the sand in is at Silver Lake. Check silverlakebuggys.com. Oceana County airport is nearby.
5. In Michigan, airports are plentiful. Cars not so much.
One thing I learned the expensive way is that rental cars at the smaller airports near Michigan’s most popular destinations are hard to find and usually very, very expensive. If you think about it, that makes sense. When you head “up north”—which is the only direction to go in a Michigan summer—you want to get away. One of the many things you get away from is rental cars because the towns are just too small to support much of a fleet.
Traverse City is a great airport to start exploring Northern Michigan.
You can plan ahead and maybe find a “limo” service that can get you from a small airport to a resort. Maybe. But there just aren’t enough people to support Uber or Lyft drivers. And if you want to visit several sites after you land, you’ll need a rental car.
What I found is that Cherry Capital Airport in Traverse City is a great place to get a rental car at conventional prices. The major brands are there and the daily and weekly rates won’t shock you. There’s much to do and see around Traverse City, which is one of the fastest growing resort destinations in the country. And it’s a reasonable drive to all the spots you will want to visit in northern Michigan.
6. Michigan offers a classical summer in the woods.
The Interlochen Center for the Arts draws students, teachers and performers from around the world to its beautiful campus in the woods about 15 miles southwest of Traverse City. Interlochen was founded in 1928 and is supported by patrons of the arts from around the country.
If you have kids with almost any form of fine or performing arts talent, they would certainly want to consider a stay at Interlochen as summer campers. But for the rest of us, attending one of the many summer concerts, or touring the campus to view the art, or even sit in on a class is a trip to remember.
7. In Michigan, you can watch huge ships go up and down.
Sault Ste Marie is the only place I know where you can stand a few yards away and watch a 1,000-foot long ship go up or down in a lock. The St. Marys River is the only link between Lake Superior and the lower Great Lakes. But rapids and falls blocked the passage until the first of the Soo Locks was constructed in 1855. The locks are the only and vital route to get iron ore from the mines on the range west of Lake Superior to the mills in the lower lakes. An average of 10,000 ships pass through the locks during a season so you’re likely to see more than one ship during a visit.
The locks are a popular attraction for the town of Sault Ste Marie so getting from the airport and around town is easy. There are plenty of restaurants in town and there is a system to alert when a ship is approaching the locks so you won’t miss it. A visit to a Great Lakes freighter turned museum that is moored in town is worth your time if you have any interest in ships, how they were built, and how a steam engine really works.
If you want to take a look at the Soo Locks from the air be sure to study the charts closely. The traffic area from the tower controlled Sault Ste Marie airport on the Canadian side overlaps the locks. You’ll need to get permission from that control tower to fly over the locks.
8. In Michigan, you can golf the ski slopes.
For reasons I don’t fully understand, the northern Michigan climate is perfect for growing grass, the kind that makes the most beautiful golf courses in the country. And years ago several ski area owners figured out that the same terrain features that put the schuss in winter make for stunning and challenging golf in the summer.
It looks like Colorado, but it’s actually in Michigan.
The Boyne ski complex has 10 courses on three resorts, several by big name designers. You can play your way down from the top of a ski hill, or on a course featuring 18 replica holes by the legendary designer Donald Ross, or golf along the shore of Lake Michigan on the Links that give a strong hint of being in Scotland. My favorite is the Alpine at Boyne Mountain with the first tee at the top of the hill. I can hit it 200 yards with a wedge from that high perch. A great way to start your round.
Boyne Mountain has its own runway for guests, but it hasn’t been maintained well, and there are no services. Airports at Boyne City and Harbor Springs are good choices to either ski the resorts, or golf them in the summer.
9. In Michigan, consider the Holy Water.
In Michigan you can fish the depths of the freshwater oceans we call the Great Lakes, or you can cast for bass and walleye in hundreds of inland lakes. But there is only one spot fisherman named the Holy Water decades ago.
Fly fisherman—not necessarily strangers to exaggeration—call a stretch of the fabled Au Sable River the Holy Water for trout fishing. This approximately nine-mile stretch of the Au Sable, located near Grayling, is pristine and limited to catch and release only. Only flies, dry of course, are allowed. No live bait, and barbless hooks are preferred and the noble way to fish for trout. Google “Holy Water Michigan,” and you’ll find info on the fishing, guides and places to stay.
You can take a charter boat offshore from many ports on Lakes Michigan or Huron and land 30-pound or lager salmon, but for the angler who views fishing as a religion, the Holy Water is a must. The Grayling airport is owned by the U.S. Army, but is open to the public. But be sure to make your ground transportation plans in advance.
What about your state – or country? What do you know for sure about flying there?
Share your knowledge and experience with Air Facts readers following these guidelines: Pick between five and ten things you know for sure about flying in one particular state or country. Write it in a Word document and send it to [email protected]. Michigan and Ohio are taken so that leaves 48 states and hundreds of countries for our readers to write about.
The post Nine things I know for sure about flying in Michigan appeared first on Air Facts Journal.
from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2019/06/nine-things-i-know-for-sure-about-flying-in-michigan/
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Chapter Four
Pairing: None
Warnings: Annoying ex-boyfriend
Word Count: 1511
Author’s Note: Thank you again to everyone who has submitted a response to my survey! I’ll keep this author’s note short because the last one was pretty much as novel. Enjoy chapter four! 💛
You closed the front door and walked over to the couch, tossing your bag by the door as you did so. Today had been one of your extra long shifts, and you were looking forward to laying down on the couch and relaxing. Matthew wasn’t supposed to be home for another couple hours, meaning that you wouldn’t have to worry about him sabotaging your peaceful sleep.
The TV was the first thing you heard when you eventually woke up. Matthew was sitting in the armchair, holding the TV remote in one hand. The volume was much louder than it needed to be, and you knew that it was no accident. He had always been the one to complain that you needed the TV too loud, a result of frequently blasting music in your car as a teenager.
“Do you mind turning that down?” you asked, although the damage had already been done. You were awake, and you wouldn’t be falling asleep again anytime soon.
“Yeah, no problem.”
Matthew immediately turned the volume back down to a level that you would have had no trouble sleeping through. At least the two of you were talking now. He had been a lot more talkative since returning from his weekend trip, although most of what he said was insults and snarky comments. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were the one who broke up with him.
You rolled your eyes as you reached over and grabbed your phone from the coffee table to check the time. Your attention was quickly redirected as you caught a glimpse of the familiar green color of the messages app on your screen. One look at the name was enough to put a smile on your face.
“What has you so happy?” Matthew asked as you unlocked your phone.
Your expression quickly faded, “Nothing.”
“Whatever.”
Josh: How’s the hair dye holding up?
You shook your head a bit as you typed out your response.
Y/N: Surprisingly well. I thought the orange would have shown up by now
Josh’s answer was almost instant.
Josh: It’s because you had my help in picking it out
You and Josh had been texting near constantly for the last few days. The two of you were quickly growing close and it was nice to feel like there was actually someone who had your back in the city. Plus it helped to keep your mind off of everything else that you should be worrying about, but had no control over.
Y/N: Sure it is…
Josh: Hey, you never sent me those photos you were talking about last night
“Damn,” you muttered.
You had completely forgotten about that. The two of you had somehow ended up on the topic of your photography business last night and you had promised to send him some of your photos once your laptop was done charging. Of course, it had completely slipped your mind.
Y/N: Oh right, give me a couple minutes
You got up and grabbed your hard drive and laptop from your suitcase on the other side of the room. When you returned, despite the fact that you had gotten up no more than ten seconds ago, Matthew had moved from his spot in the armchair and stolen half the couch.
“Hey, I was sitting there.”
“I can see the TV better from here,” he said, gesturing towards it. “Besides, you don’t get to steal the entire couch.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t dragged me out here and broken up with me,” you muttered as you sat back down on the opposite end of the couch.
You plugged in your hard drive and began to cycle through photos, looking through the ones that you had been telling Josh about. They were ones that you had taken of Los Angeles the night before you left for Ohio. The sunset that night had been phenomenal. Once you found what you were looking for, you sent them to Josh.
Josh: Y/N! These are amazing! I had no idea that you were so talented
Y/N: Tell that to the people here, my photography business is failing miserably
Josh: Do you have any more photos that I can see? I’m just absolutely blown away
You continued to look through your photos, reliving memories as you selected ones that you thought Josh might like. There were some of your family, the town that you had grown up in, and just random ones that you had taken in your daily life. It was only making you miss doing photography more--you hadn’t really had a chance to do much since the move--although you were happy that Josh was taking such an interest in it.
The two of you talked for awhile longer until he eventually stopped responding. You assumed that he had gotten busy and you had to make yourself dinner anyway. Matthew was taking up most of the tiny kitchen, as he often did, although you managed to make yourself a nice meal with the room he had left for you.
“Can we watch something that we both like?” you asked as both of you sat down on the couch with your dinners.
“I’m in the middle of this show!” he said.
“Yeah, and you can finish it later.”
“If you want to watch something else so badly, you can watch it on your laptop.”
You held back an audible groan and made yourself comfortable, deciding that Matthew’s dumb show was better than watching nothing. Living with him was getting more aggravating by the day, which you were sure was intentional. Even though the two of you weren’t flat out fighting, he knew all the right ways to push your buttons and slowly drive you insane.
The only thing keeping you from giving up completely and moving home was Josh. You knew that if you moved home, things between you and him would essentially come to an end. There was no way a long-distance friendship like that would work, especially since you had met less than a week ago. You just hoped that you would be able to put up living with Matthew long enough to find your own place.
Josh finally texted you again about an hour after you had finished your dinner. Matthew had finally given up on TV and went into his bedroom, allowing you to catch up on the shows you liked.
Josh: Hey, can I call you really quick?
You felt a burst of adrenaline rush through you, but you were curious as to why he needed to call you.
Y/N: Yeah, go for it
You got up from the couch and grabbed your apartment key as you headed out into the hallway; you would rather that Matthew didn’t know who you were talking to. Your phone started to ring right as you closed the door.
“Hello?”
“Y/N!” It felt nice to hear Josh’s voice again. “How are you?”
“I’m making it through the week. How about you?”
You opened the door to the stairwell with your hip and took a seat at the top of the stairs.
“I’m doing pretty good. Just working on band stuff.”
“Right, how is that?”
“Good! I’ll have to introduce you to Tyler soon. I think you two would get along really well.”
“I would love to meet him!”
“Yeah. So, the reason I’m calling you.”
“Right.”
“I have an offer for you, if you’re interested.”
“What kind of offer?” you asked, trying to ignore the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“I can’t tell you that yet, but I can tell you that it’s definitely something you’ll want to consider.”
“When do I get to find out?”
“How about lunch tomorrow? It’s your day off, right?”
“Yeah, it is. And lunch sounds fantastic.”
“Perfect. I think Tyler will be able to come along too.”
“Ok! What are the details?”
“How does one o'clock at the pizza place on fourth street sound?”
“Josh, I moved here just over a month ago. Do you really expect me to know which pizza place you’re referring to?”
This caused him to laugh, “I can text you the address, but does one work?”
“Yeah, one is great.”
“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow, yeah.”
“Ok, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
You quickly ended the call. Your mind was swarming with possibilities of what offer Josh could possibly have for you. The answers seemed endless.
Matthew was in the kitchen when you walked into the apartment. He was scooping ice cream into a small bowl.
“Where were you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, walking back over to the couch. Matthew just shook his head, grabbed his ice cream, and walked back into the bedroom.
You were feeling somewhere between excited and nervous. Josh’s offer could be about anything, although you were pretty sure it was a positive thing. After all, he would have no reason to sound so excited about something bad, right?
All that was left to do was wait.
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Battlefield America Is the New Normal: We’re Not in Mayberry Anymore
http://uniteordiemedia.com/battlefield-america-is-the-new-normal-were-not-in-mayberry-anymore/ Battlefield America Is the New Normal: We’re Not in Mayberry Anymore “Police” in Ferguson Missouri By John W. Whitehead August 29, 2017 “If we’re training cops as soldiers, giving them equipment like soldiers, dressing them up as soldiers, when are they going to pick up the mentality of soldiers? If you look at the police department, their creed is to...
“Police” in Ferguson Missouri
By John W. Whitehead August 29, 2017
“If we’re training cops as soldiers, giving them equipment like soldiers, dressing them up as soldiers, when are they going to pick up the mentality of soldiers? If you look at the police department, their creed is to protect and to serve. A soldier’s mission is to engage his enemy in close combat and kill him. Do we want police officers to have that mentality? Of course not.”— Arthur Rizer, former police officer and member of the military
America, you’ve been fooled again.
While the nation has been distracted by a media maelstrom dominated by news of white supremacists, Powerball jackpots, Hurricane Harvey, and a Mayweather v. McGregor fight, the American Police State has been carving its own path of devastation and destruction through what’s left of the Constitution.
We got sucker punched.
First, Congress overwhelmingly passed—and President Trump approved—a law allowing warrantless searches of private property for the purpose of “making inspections, investigations, examinations, and testing.”
For now, the scope of the law is geographically limited to property near the Washington DC Metro system, but mark my words, this is just a way of testing the waters. Under the pretext of ensuring public safety by “inspecting” property in the vicinity of anything that could be remotely classified as impacting public safety, the government could gain access to almost any private property in the country.
Then President Trump, aided and abetted by his trusty Department of Justice henchman Jeff Sessions and to the delight of the nation’s powerful police unions, rolled back restrictions on the government’s military recycling program.
What this means is that police agencies, only minimally deterred by the Obama administration’s cosmetic ban on certain types of military gear, can now go hog-wild.
We’re talking Blackhawk helicopters, machine guns, grenade launchers, battering rams, explosives, chemical sprays, body armor, night vision, rappelling gear, armored vehicles, and tanks.
Clearly, we’re not in Mayberry anymore.
Or if this is Mayberry, it’s Mayberry in The Twilight Zone.
As journalist Benjamin Carlson stresses, “In today’s Mayberry, Andy Griffith and Barney Fife could be using grenade launchers and a tank to keep the peace.”
You remember The Andy Griffith Show, don’t you?
Set in the fictional town of Mayberry, N.C., The Andy Griffith Show portrays the two stars of the show—Sheriff Andy Taylor and his bumbling deputy Barney Fife—as peace officers in the truest sense of the word as opposed to law enforcers.
Both Sheriff Taylor and Deputy Fife dress in khaki uniforms, a far cry from the black, militarized Stormtrooper getups worn by police today. Andy refuses to wear a gun and only allows Barney to wear his gun on the proviso that he keep his single bullet out of the chamber and in his shirt pocket. Most of all, the two lawmen relate to those under their protection as equals, rather than as enemy combatants or inferiors.
Contrast the idyllic Mayberry with the American police state of today, where local police—clad in jackboots, helmets and shields and wielding batons, pepper-spray, stun guns, and assault rifles—have increasingly come to resemble occupying forces in communities across the country.
As Alyssa Rosenberg writes for The Washington Post, “[The Andy Griffith Show] expressed an ideal that has leached out of American pop culture and public policy, to dangerous effect: that the police were part of the communities that they served and shared their fellow citizens’ interests. They were of their towns and cities, not at war with them.”
That’s really what this is about: a war on the American citizenry waged by local law enforcement armed to the teeth with weapons previously only seen on the battlefield
If you thought the militarized police response to Ferguson and Baltimore was bad, brace yourselves.
As investigative journalists Andrew Becker and G.W. Schulz reveal, “Many police, including beat cops, now routinely carry assault rifles. Combined with body armor and other apparel, many officers look more and more like combat troops serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
Thanks to Trump, this transformation of America into a battlefield is only going to get worse.
To be fair, Trump did not create this totalitarian nightmare. However, he has legitimized it and, in so doing, has also accelerated the pace at which we fall deeper into the clutches of outright tyranny.
Everything America’s founders warned against—a standing army that would view and treat American citizens as combatants—is fast becoming the norm. Certainly, this lopsided, top-heavy, authoritarian state of affairs is not the balance of power the founders intended for “we the people.”
Yet in the hands of government agents, whether they are members of the military, law enforcement or some other government agency, these weapons of war have become accepted instruments of tyranny, routine parts of America’s day-to-day life, a byproduct of the rapid militarization of law enforcement over the past several decades.
As Becker and Schulz document in their insightful piece, “Local Cops Ready for War With Homeland Security-Funded Military Weapons”:
In Montgomery County, Texas, the sheriff’s department owns a $300,000 pilotless surveillance drone, like those used to hunt down al Qaeda terrorists in the remote tribal regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan. In Augusta, Maine, with fewer than 20,000 people and where an officer hasn’t died from gunfire in the line of duty in more than 125 years, police bought eight $1,500 tactical vests. Police in Des Moines, Iowa, bought two $180,000 bomb-disarming robots, while an Arizona sheriff is now the proud owner of a surplus Army tank.
Under this recycling program, small counties and cities throughout the country have been “gifted” with 20-ton Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles.
MRAPs are built to withstand roadside bombs, a function which seems unnecessary for any form of domestic policing, yet police in Jefferson County, New York, Boise and Nampa, Idaho, as well as High Springs, Florida, have all acquired MRAPs. Police in West Lafayette, Indiana also have an MRAP, valued at half a million dollars.
Universities are getting in on the program as well.
The Ohio State University Department of Public Safety acquired an MRAP, which a university spokesperson said will be used for “officer rescue, hostage scenarios, bomb evaluation,” situations which are not common on OSU’s campus. In fact, it will be used for crowd control at football games.
Almost 13,000 agencies in all 50 states and four U.S. territories participate in the military “recycling” program, and the share of equipment and weaponry gifted each year continues to expand.
In 2011, $500 million worth of military equipment was distributed to law enforcement agencies throughout the country. That number jumped to $546 million in 2012.
Since 1990, $4.2 billion worth of equipment has been transferred from the Defense Department to domestic police agencies through the 1033 program, in addition to various other programs supposedly aimed at fighting the so-called War on Drugs and War on Terror. For example, the Department of Homeland Security has delivered roughly $34 billion to police departments throughout the country since 9/11, ostensibly to purchase more gear for their steady growing arsenals of military weapons and equipment.
Police departments are also receiving grants to create microcosms of the extensive surveillance systems put in place by the federal government in the years since 9/11.
For example, using a $2.6 million grant from the DHS, police in Seattle purchased and setup a “mesh network”throughout the city capable of tracking every Wi-Fi enabled device within range. Police claim it won’t be used for surveillance, but the devices are capable of determining “the IP address, device type, downloaded applications, current location, and historical location of any device that searches for a Wi-Fi signal.”
Now ask yourself: why does a police department which hasn’t had an officer killed in the line of duty in over 125 years in a town of less than 20,000 people need tactical military vests like those used by soldiers in Afghanistan?
Why does a police department in a city of 35,000 people need a military-grade helicopter?
For that matter, what possible use could police at Ohio State University have for acquiring a heavily-armored vehicle intended to withstand IED blasts?
It’s a modern-day Trojan Horse.
Although these federal programs that allow the military to “gift” battlefield-appropriate weapons, vehicles and equipment to domestic police departments at taxpayer expense are being sold to communities as a benefit, the real purpose is to keep the defense industry churning out profits, bring police departments in line with the military, and establish a standing army.
It’s a militarized approach to make-work programs, except in this case, instead of unnecessary busy work to keep people employed, communities across America are finding themselves “gifted” with unnecessary drones, tanks, grenade launchers and other military equipment better suited to the battlefield in order to fatten the bank accounts of the military industrial complex.
Not surprisingly, this trend towards the militarization of domestic police forces has also opened up a new market for military contractors.
You know who gets stuck with the bill for all of this unnecessary military gear, don’t you?
“We the taxpayers,” of course.
First, taxpayers are forced to pay millions of dollars for equipment which the Defense Department purchases from megacorporations only to abandon after a few years. Then taxpayers get saddled with the bill to maintain the costly equipment once it has been acquired by the local police.
It’s like the old adage: “never look a gift horse in the mouth.” The catch is that this gift horse is an expensive and deadly boondoggle.
For instance, although the Tupelo, Miss., police department was “gifted” with a free military helicopter, residents quickly learned that it required “$100,000 worth of upgrades and $20,000 each year in maintenance.”
In addition to being an astounding waste of taxpayer money, this equipping of police with military-grade equipment and weapons also gives rise to a dangerous mindset in which police adopt a warrior-like, more aggressive approach to policing.
The results are deadly.
As a study by researchers at Stanford University makes clear, “When law enforcement receives more military materials — weapons, vehicles and tools — it becomes … more likely to jump into high-risk situations. Militarization makes every problem — even a car of teenagers driving away from a party — look like a nail that should be hit with an AR-15 hammer.”
The danger of giving police high-power toys and weapons is that they will feel compelled to use it in all kinds of situations that would never normally warrant battlefield gear, weapons or tactics.
This “if we have it, we might as well use it” mindset, by the way, is also used to justify assigning SWAT teams to carry out routine law enforcement work such as delivering a warrant. That’s how you end up with SWAT tactics being employed when police are tasked with searching for a stolen koi fish and enforcing barber licensing laws.
Suffice it to say, we’re long past the days of Mayberry when cops were peace officers and recognized their role as public servants, a marked contrast to the climate of entitlement that has cops today acting like overlords and authoritarians.
Change will not come easily.
As I make clear in my book Battlefield America: The War on the American People, the police unions are a powerful force and they will not relinquish their power easily. Connect the dots and you’ll find that most, if not all, attempts to cover up police misconduct or sidestep accountability can be traced back to police unions and the police lobby.
Just look at Trump: he’s been on the police unions’ payroll from the moment they endorsed him for president, and he’s paid them back generously by ensuring that police can kill, shoot, taser, abuse and steal from American citizens with impunity.
Still, the responsibility rests with “we the people.”
As author Ta-Nehisi Coates reminds us:
The truth is that the police reflect America in all of its will and fear, and whatever we might make of this country’s criminal justice policy, it cannot be said that it was imposed by a repressive minority. The abuses that have followed from these policies—the sprawling carceral state, the random detention of black people, the torture of suspects—are the product of democratic will. And so to challenge the police is to challenge the American people who send them into the ghettos armed with the same self-generated fears that compelled the people who think they are white to flee the cities and into the Dream. The problem with the police is not that they are fascist pigs but that our country is ruled by majoritarian pigs.
Read More: https://www.rutherford.org/publications_resources/john_whiteheads_commentary/battlefield_america_is_the_new_normal_were_not_in_mayberry_anymore
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First, Congress overwhelmingly passed—and President Trump approved—a law allowing warrantless searches of private property for the purpose of “making inspections, investigations, examinations, and testing.”
For now, the scope of the law is geographically limited to property near the Washington DC Metro system, but mark my words, this is just a way of testing the waters. Under the pretext of ensuring public safety by “inspecting” property in the vicinity of anything that could be remotely classified as impacting public safety, the government could gain access to almost any private property in the country.
Then President Trump, aided and abetted by his trusty Department of Justice henchman Jeff Sessions and to the delight of the nation’s powerful police unions, rolled back restrictions on the government’s military recycling program.
What this means is that police agencies, only minimally deterred by the Obama administration’s cosmetic ban on certain types of military gear, can now go hog-wild.
We’re talking Blackhawk helicopters, machine guns, grenade launchers, battering rams, explosives, chemical sprays, body armor, night vision, rappelling gear, armored vehicles, and tanks.
Clearly, we’re not in Mayberry anymore.
Or if this is Mayberry, it’s Mayberry in The Twilight Zone.
As journalist Benjamin Carlson stresses, “In today’s Mayberry, Andy Griffith and Barney Fife could be using grenade launchers and a tank to keep the peace.”
You remember The Andy Griffith Show, don’t you?
Set in the fictional town of Mayberry, N.C., The Andy Griffith Show portrays the two stars of the show—Sheriff Andy Taylor and his bumbling deputy Barney Fife—as peace officers in the truest sense of the word as opposed to law enforcers.
Both Sheriff Taylor and Deputy Fife dress in khaki uniforms, a far cry from the black, militarized Stormtrooper getups worn by police today. Andy refuses to wear a gun and only allows Barney to wear his gun on the proviso that he keep his single bullet out of the chamber and in his shirt pocket. Most of all, the two lawmen relate to those under their protection as equals, rather than as enemy combatants or inferiors.
Contrast the idyllic Mayberry with the American police state of today, where local police—clad in jackboots, helmets and shields and wielding batons, pepper-spray, stun guns, and assault rifles—have increasingly come to resemble occupying forces in communities across the country.
As Alyssa Rosenberg writes for The Washington Post, “[The Andy Griffith Show] expressed an ideal that has leached out of American pop culture and public policy, to dangerous effect: that the police were part of the communities that they served and shared their fellow citizens’ interests. They were of their towns and cities, not at war with them.”
That’s really what this is about: a war on the American citizenry waged by local law enforcement armed to the teeth with weapons previously only seen on the battlefield
If you thought the militarized police response to Ferguson and Baltimore was bad, brace yourselves.
As investigative journalists Andrew Becker and G.W. Schulz reveal, “Many police, including beat cops, now routinely carry assault rifles. Combined with body armor and other apparel, many officers look more and more like combat troops serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
Thanks to Trump, this transformation of America into a battlefield is only going to get worse.
To be fair, Trump did not create this totalitarian nightmare. However, he has legitimized it and, in so doing, has also accelerated the pace at which we fall deeper into the clutches of outright tyranny.
Everything America’s founders warned against—a standing army that would view and treat American citizens as combatants—is fast becoming the norm. Certainly, this lopsided, top-heavy, authoritarian state of affairs is not the balance of power the founders intended for “we the people.”
Yet in the hands of government agents, whether they are members of the military, law enforcement or some other government agency, these weapons of war have become accepted instruments of tyranny, routine parts of America’s day-to-day life, a byproduct of the rapid militarization of law enforcement over the past several decades.
As Becker and Schulz document in their insightful piece, “Local Cops Ready for War With Homeland Security-Funded Military Weapons”:
In Montgomery County, Texas, the sheriff’s department owns a $300,000 pilotless surveillance drone, like those used to hunt down al Qaeda terrorists in the remote tribal regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan. In Augusta, Maine, with fewer than 20,000 people and where an officer hasn’t died from gunfire in the line of duty in more than 125 years, police bought eight $1,500 tactical vests. Police in Des Moines, Iowa, bought two $180,000 bomb-disarming robots, while an Arizona sheriff is now the proud owner of a surplus Army tank.
Under this recycling program, small counties and cities throughout the country have been “gifted” with 20-ton Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles.
MRAPs are built to withstand roadside bombs, a function which seems unnecessary for any form of domestic policing, yet police in Jefferson County, New York, Boise and Nampa, Idaho, as well as High Springs, Florida, have all acquired MRAPs. Police in West Lafayette, Indiana also have an MRAP, valued at half a million dollars.
Universities are getting in on the program as well.
The Ohio State University Department of Public Safety acquired an MRAP, which a university spokesperson said will be used for “officer rescue, hostage scenarios, bomb evaluation,” situations which are not common on OSU’s campus. In fact, it will be used for crowd control at football games.
Almost 13,000 agencies in all 50 states and four U.S. territories participate in the military “recycling” program, and the share of equipment and weaponry gifted each year continues to expand.
In 2011, $500 million worth of military equipment was distributed to law enforcement agencies throughout the country. That number jumped to $546 million in 2012.
Since 1990, $4.2 billion worth of equipment has been transferred from the Defense Department to domestic police agencies through the 1033 program, in addition to various other programs supposedly aimed at fighting the so-called War on Drugs and War on Terror. For example, the Department of Homeland Security has delivered roughly $34 billion to police departments throughout the country since 9/11, ostensibly to purchase more gear for their steady growing arsenals of military weapons and equipment.
Police departments are also receiving grants to create microcosms of the extensive surveillance systems put in place by the federal government in the years since 9/11.
For example, using a $2.6 million grant from the DHS, police in Seattle purchased and setup a “mesh network”throughout the city capable of tracking every Wi-Fi enabled device within range. Police claim it won’t be used for surveillance, but the devices are capable of determining “the IP address, device type, downloaded applications, current location, and historical location of any device that searches for a Wi-Fi signal.”
Now ask yourself: why does a police department which hasn’t had an officer killed in the line of duty in over 125 years in a town of less than 20,000 people need tactical military vests like those used by soldiers in Afghanistan?
Why does a police department in a city of 35,000 people need a military-grade helicopter?
For that matter, what possible use could police at Ohio State University have for acquiring a heavily-armored vehicle intended to withstand IED blasts?
It’s a modern-day Trojan Horse.
Although these federal programs that allow the military to “gift” battlefield-appropriate weapons, vehicles and equipment to domestic police departments at taxpayer expense are being sold to communities as a benefit, the real purpose is to keep the defense industry churning out profits, bring police departments in line with the military, and establish a standing army.
It’s a militarized approach to make-work programs, except in this case, instead of unnecessary busy work to keep people employed, communities across America are finding themselves “gifted” with unnecessary drones, tanks, grenade launchers and other military equipment better suited to the battlefield in order to fatten the bank accounts of the military industrial complex.
Not surprisingly, this trend towards the militarization of domestic police forces has also opened up a new market for military contractors.
You know who gets stuck with the bill for all of this unnecessary military gear, don’t you?
“We the taxpayers,” of course.
First, taxpayers are forced to pay millions of dollars for equipment which the Defense Department purchases from megacorporations only to abandon after a few years. Then taxpayers get saddled with the bill to maintain the costly equipment once it has been acquired by the local police.
It’s like the old adage: “never look a gift horse in the mouth.” The catch is that this gift horse is an expensive and deadly boondoggle.
For instance, although the Tupelo, Miss., police department was “gifted” with a free military helicopter, residents quickly learned that it required “$100,000 worth of upgrades and $20,000 each year in maintenance.”
In addition to being an astounding waste of taxpayer money, this equipping of police with military-grade equipment and weapons also gives rise to a dangerous mindset in which police adopt a warrior-like, more aggressive approach to policing.
The results are deadly.
As a study by researchers at Stanford University makes clear, “When law enforcement receives more military materials — weapons, vehicles and tools — it becomes … more likely to jump into high-risk situations. Militarization makes every problem — even a car of teenagers driving away from a party — look like a nail that should be hit with an AR-15 hammer.”
The danger of giving police high-power toys and weapons is that they will feel compelled to use it in all kinds of situations that would never normally warrant battlefield gear, weapons or tactics.
This “if we have it, we might as well use it” mindset, by the way, is also used to justify assigning SWAT teams to carry out routine law enforcement work such as delivering a warrant. That’s how you end up with SWAT tactics being employed when police are tasked with searching for a stolen koi fish and enforcing barber licensing laws.
Suffice it to say, we’re long past the days of Mayberry when cops were peace officers and recognized their role as public servants, a marked contrast to the climate of entitlement that has cops today acting like overlords and authoritarians.
Change will not come easily.
As I make clear in my book Battlefield America: The War on the American People, the police unions are a powerful force and they will not relinquish their power easily. Connect the dots and you’ll find that most, if not all, attempts to cover up police misconduct or sidestep accountability can be traced back to police unions and the police lobby.
Just look at Trump: he’s been on the police unions’ payroll from the moment they endorsed him for president, and he’s paid them back generously by ensuring that police can kill, shoot, taser, abuse and steal from American citizens with impunity.
Still, the responsibility rests with “we the people.”
As author Ta-Nehisi Coates reminds us:
The truth is that the police reflect America in all of its will and fear, and whatever we might make of this country’s criminal justice policy, it cannot be said that it was imposed by a repressive minority. The abuses that have followed from these policies—the sprawling carceral state, the random detention of black people, the torture of suspects—are the product of democratic will. And so to challenge the police is to challenge the American people who send them into the ghettos armed with the same self-generated fears that compelled the people who think they are white to flee the cities and into the Dream. The problem with the police is not that they are fascist pigs but that our country is ruled by majoritarian pigs.
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FBI says Internet romance scams on the upward push
New Post has been published on https://mediafocus.biz/fbi-says-internet-romance-scams-on-the-upward-push/
FBI says Internet romance scams on the upward push
When a pal request from a person who stated his call become Greg landed in Sheila’s Facebook account, she was intrigued. She didn’t recognize him but established anyway.
The fast started out emailing and talking on the cell phone for hours. He claimed to be working on a rig near Texas and that his contract wouldn’t allow him to depart, which is why they couldn’t meet in man or woman.
Two months later, Greg requested Sheila, 49, to pay his taxes.
“I became resistant at first,” she stated. “But he gave me his bank account facts. I wager to growth my consider.”
Read More:
Syphilis quotes are on the rise, and dating apps may be playing a role, experts say Be on alert for false Internet romance scams Traces of poo micro organism in drinks at McDonald’s, KFC and Burger King, record says Sheila stressed the cash. Then she received a message asking her to send extra money for an anti-terrorist record rate. That’s while she realized she changed into being scammed, said Sheila, who asked that her complete call is withheld because she feels ashamed and hasn’t advised her family and a lot of her friends what passed off to her.
She referred to as her financial institution and requested to stop price. But it turned into too past due. In total, she lost $24,250.
The abundance of social media structures, chat rooms, and relationship apps have caused an upward push in romance scams wherein human beings pretend to be ability suitors to solicit cash. In 2016, the FBI’s Internet Crime Complaint Center pronounced 14,546 humans had been victims of romance or self-belief scams, up from five,791 humans in 2014. The monetary loss maintains growing as nicely: victims misplaced nearly $220 million in 2016, greater than double the nearly $87 million misplaced in 2014, consistent with the FBI. The Federal Trade Commission additionally had a spike within the quantity of complaints approximately feasible romance-associated scams, up to extra two-fold to 11,149 from 2014 levels. And those numbers probably represent only a sliver of the swindles. Shame and embarrassment keep many people from coming ahead.
“This is a highly underreported crime,” stated Special Agent Christine Beining, of the FBI’s Houston department. “We’re looking forward to that range growing within the future.”
While singles seeking out love cover an extensive range of demographics, Beining stated scammers prey at the maximum susceptible, ladies over the age of 60, often widowed and not digitally savvy.
“It has lots to do with how remote human beings are from the circle of relatives and friends, from different folks who may want to have warned them,” Beining stated.
The scammers commonly have a hard and fast profile as properly. Most declare they lost their spouse to some shape of most cancers, are raising their child alone, work continues them at a distance — frequently overseas — and are seeking out love. Almost all promise to attend to their new love interest.
In Uniontown, Ohio, Theresa Dies, 70, met a person on Facebook who she stated resembled Microsoft founder Bill Gates. The guy asked her to send numerous thousand bucks. She refused but nonetheless complained to regulation enforcement. The government, however, could not do whatever seeing that a criminal offense wasn’t committed.
“They said, ‘What did you expect?’ They made my experience just like the worst scum of the earth.” Dies said. “Why do they ought to disgrace us?”
Many systems, such as Facebook and Match.Com, provide safety suggestions to users but also have utilization waivers liberating them from liability from interactions amongst members. Cyber criminals also are notoriously hard to seize.
“In order to sue someone, you have to recognize who they’re,” Jef Henninger, a legal professional in New Jersey. “These human beings are hiding their identities, and seeking to show it wasn’t a present is tough. It’s nearly like the precise crime.”
Here are guidelines experts offer to stay secure on line:
1. Don’t send cash to someone you do not know. Ever.
2. If you do ship cash, get a loan agreement. “To ship cash to a person you just met online with out a loan settlement, you’re simply throwing your money away,” said Henninger, a crook defense attorney.
Three. Meet the character in actual life. “Be cautious when someone is asserting their undying love for you and then refusing to fulfill in person,” stated Beining of the FBI. “If you’re romantically worried about someone they should want to satisfy you.”
four. Take the connection slowly. “Get to understand the person,” Beining stated. “You should be inclined to invest the time in the different character.”
five. Do a heritage take a look at. “It might not sound romantic,” Beining said. “But get online and do a little study approximately this individual you speak me to,” Beining recommends attempting to find the individual’s photograph on other websites and doing a Google search.
6. Get a second opinion. The maximum vulnerable humans are people who are isolated. To save you this, ask a relied on the member of the family or pay for a 2nd opinion to your new admirer. If it appears too properly to be actual, they’ll tell you.
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Not ‘Lone Wolves’ After All: How ISIS Guides Plots by Remote Control
By Rukmini Callimachi, NY Times, Feb. 4, 2017
HYDERABAD, India--When the Islamic State identified a promising young recruit willing to carry out an attack in one of India’s major tech hubs, the group made sure to arrange everything down to the bullets he needed to kill victims.
For 17 months, terrorist operatives guided the recruit, a young engineer named Mohammed Ibrahim Yazdani, through every step of what they planned to be the Islamic State’s first strike on Indian soil.
They vetted each new member of the cell as Mr. Yazdani recruited helpers. They taught him how to pledge allegiance to the terrorist group and securely send the statement.
And from Syria, investigators believe, the group’s virtual plotters organized for the delivery of weapons as well as the precursor chemicals used to make explosives, directing the Indian men to hidden pickup spots.
Until just moments before the arrest of the Indian cell, here last June, the Islamic State’s cyberplanners kept in near-constant touch with the men, according to the interrogation records of three of the eight suspects obtained by The New York Times.
As officials around the world have faced a confusing barrage of attacks dedicated to the Islamic State, cases like Mr. Yazdani’s offer troubling examples of what counterterrorism experts are calling enabled or remote-controlled attacks: violence conceived and guided by operatives in areas controlled by the Islamic State whose only connection to the would-be attacker is the internet.
In the most basic enabled attacks, Islamic State handlers acted as confidants and coaches, coaxing recruits to embrace violence. In the Hyderabad plot, among the most involved found so far, the terrorist group reached deep into a country with strict gun laws in order to arrange for pistols and ammunition to be left to be left in a bag swinging from the branches of a tree.
For the most part, the operatives who are conceiving and guiding such attacks are doing so from behind a wall of anonymity. When the Hyderabad plotters were arrested last summer, they could not so much as confirm the nationality of their interlocutors inside the Islamic State, let alone describe what they looked like. Because the recruits are instructed to use encrypted messaging applications, the guiding role played by the terrorist group often remains obscured.
As a result, any remotely guided plots in Europe, Asia and the United States in recent years, including the attack on a community center in Garland, Tex., were initially labeled the work of “lone wolves,” with no operational ties to the Islamic State, and only later was direct communication with the group discovered.
In at least 10 executed attacks, officials have found that the assailant was in direct communication with planners from the Islamic State.
While the trail of many of these plots led back to planners living in Syria, the very nature of the group’s method of remote plotting means there is little dependence on its maintaining a safe haven there or in Iraq. And visa restrictions and airport security mean little to attackers who strike where they live and no longer have to travel abroad for training.
Close examination of both successful and unsuccessful plots carried out in the Islamic State’s name over the past three years indicates that such enabled attacks are making up a growing share of the operations of the group, which is also known as ISIS, ISIL or Daesh.
“They are virtual coaches who are providing guidance and encouragement throughout the process--from radicalization to recruitment into a specific plot,” said Nathaniel Barr, a terrorism analyst at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, who along with Daveed Gartenstein-Ross wrote one of the first articles discussing the virtual plotters.
“If you look at the communications between the attackers and the virtual plotters, you will see that there is a direct line of communication to the point where they are egging them on minutes, even seconds, before the individual carries out an attack.”
Detailing this kind of plot direction has become a critical focus of counterterrorism officials in the United States and Europe, as they try to track terror planners who pose a lasting threat and to unravel the criminal networks that the group uses as middlemen to facilitate attacks.
Mr. Yazdani’s case presents one of the most detailed accounts to date of how the Islamic State is exporting terrorism virtually. This style of attack has allowed the terrorist group’s reach to stretch into countries as disparate as France and Malaysia, Germany and Indonesia, Bangladesh and Australia. And plots have been discovered in multiple locations in the United States, including in Columbus, Ohio, the suburbs of Washington and upstate New York.
“I fear this is the future of ISIS,” said Bridget Moreng, an analyst whose research on the virtual plotters was recently published in Foreign Affairs.
Investigation documents from Europe show that a growing share of attacks bear signs of contact with the Islamic State’s stronghold, even though the attacker was initially described as acting alone.
The first time that officials in Europe described an attack as having been “télécommandé,” or remote-controlled, was in the spring of 2015 after a young information technology student named Sid Ahmed Ghlam tried to open fire on a church in the Paris suburb of Villejuif. Instead, he shot himself in the leg.
When the police conducted a search of his car, they found his Lenovo laptop containing a series of messages showing how he, too, had been guided by a pair of handlers who provided both the weapons and the getaway car, according to hundreds of pages of police and intelligence records obtained by The Times.
“OK, brother, now pay attention,” one of the messages begins, instructing the then-23-year-old to head to the suburb of Aulnay-sous-Bois, where he would find the automatic weapons in a bag left in a locked car parked near a sandwich shop. “Search among the cars that are parked there near the big road and look for a Renault Mégane,” the message said. “Look at the front right tire--you’ll find the keys placed on top.”
The handler then instructed him to store the weapons in another car in a parking garage 10 miles away, a precaution in case his apartment was searched.
Later, French investigators said they had found that Mr. Ghlam’s handlers were French citizens who had traveled to Syria to join the Islamic State. They, in turn, tapped their criminal network back in France in order to arrange the logistics of Mr. Ghlam’s plot.
Seamus Hughes, the deputy director of the Program on Extremism at George Washington University, said the handlers were essentially “quarterbacking” the attack: “They’re from there, so they can essentially tell someone, ‘O.K., go 10 yards and go this way.”
Wiretaps, interrogation records and transcripts of chats recovered on suspects’ phones and laptops show that this level of guidance has occurred all over the world.
In Germany, a man who set off a bomb outside a music concert and a teenager who assaulted train passengers with an ax were both chatting with handlers until minutes before their respective attacks. The teenager’s handler urged him to use a car instead of an ax--“The damage would be much greater,” the handler advised--but the young man said he did not have a driving permit. “I want to enter paradise tonight,” the teenager said, according to a transcript obtained by a German newspaper.
In northern France, a pair of attackers who had been guided by an Islamic State cybercoach slit the throat of an 85-year-old priest. The pair did not know each other, and according to the investigative file, the handler had introduced them, organizing for them to meet days before the attack. Intelligence records obtained by the Times reveal that the same handler in Syria also guided a group of young women who tried to blow up a car in front of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris.
And investigations into attacks in Malaysia, Indonesia and Bangladesh reveal that the recruits were directly communicating with Islamic State handlers who molded the plots as they took shape and helped arrange logistics, in some cases wiring money.
In several, a pattern has emerged: The attacker initially tries to reach Syria, but is either blocked by the authorities in the home country or else turned back from the border. Under the instructions of a handler in Syria or Iraq, the person then begins planning an attack at home.
Law enforcement officials describe that sequence of events in one of the most recent foiled attacks in France, where a group of people are accused of plotting to hit the popular Christmas market in the city of Strasbourg, having been given the GPS coordinates of a location to pick up weapons. At least one of the five men arrested so far had been turned back from Turkey, French prosecutors said.
While a reliance on local amateurs has allowed the Islamic State to announce that it can stage terrorism around the world, it has also led to many failed attacks.
Instead of opening fire on a church, Mr. Ghlam shot himself in the leg. Instead of laying waste to a music festival this summer, the Islamic State recruit in Germany detonated his bomb prematurely, killing only himself.
The same thing happened the day before the end of Ramadan on July 2 inside a police compound in Indonesia, where another remotely guided attacker hit the switch on his crudely assembled suicide vest.
“He didn’t even knock over the flowerpot on the ledge next to where he blew himself up,” said Sidney Jones, director of the Institute for Policy Analysis of Conflict.
Indonesian officials say that the suicide bomber had been incited to attack by Bahrun Naim, a 33-year-old Indonesian man who is now one of the Islamic State’s most prolific cyberplanners, operating from the group’s capital in Raqqa, Syria.
Initially, Mr. Naim wired money to families in Indonesia to pay for travel to Syria, officials said. Later, the bank transfers he sent were to be used to buy the chemicals needed to build explosives, according to the interrogation records of his recruits.
In just over a year, the young men he guided attempted at least six attacks, targeting a police post, a Buddhist temple and a church, as well as foreigners visiting the country. In November, a college dropout who was being guided by Mr. Naim was arrested as he prepared to attack the Malaysian Embassy. In his home, the police recovered a quantity of explosives that could have resulted in a blast twice as powerful as the 2002 Bali bombing, which killed 202 people, the police spokesman told local news media.
Yet nearly all of the plots attributed to Mr. Naim have failed. And it was human error that finally led to the arrest of Amriki’s followers in Hyderabad.
The plot began to unravel in June after the men were instructed to collect a 10-kilogram bag of ammonium nitrate left beside a canal next to mile marker No. 9 on the Vijayawada Highway.
They returned to Mr. Mohammed’s home to begin preparing a bomb, but could not figure out how to replicate the steps in the instructional YouTube video sent to them by the handler. “We could not succeed in making powder, as it became jellylike paste,” Mr. Yazdani lamented, according to the transcript of his interrogation.
They tried using a tea strainer. They tried heating it longer. They began talking on their cellphones about their efforts to “cook the rice.”
By then, the police were wiretapping their calls and suspected that all the food talk was a crude attempt at misdirection. Early on June 29, the police banged on the door of Mr. Mohammed’s home.
In his bedroom, they found the half-cooked explosive inside his refrigerator.
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