#GET REGISTERED DRIVERS LICENSE

[cerise-on-top]

Can I please request Ghost with a s/o who is very comforting and protective over HIM?!? Like I love seeing Cod characters protecting and being the readers shoulder to cry on, even if they know you can handle yourself, but I wanna comfort my boy ♥️♥️♥️

Hey! Of coure you can! I really enjoyed this request, thank you very much! I'm just very soft for Simon, but I think that much has become obvious by now, haha!

Ghost with a Comforting and Protective Reader

More so than anything, he’d be surprised. He’s 1,95m tall, muscular and brooding. And yet here you are putting his face in your hands, calling him the most handsome man you’ve ever met. It’s not unwelcome, just not something he ever thought he’d have in his life. He expected to be the big, scary protector of his partner for the rest of his life, but having someone want to take care of him like that? Don’t get me wrong, it feels nice, but it also feels somewhat weird to him. He should be the big scary guard dog. While he may not be good with feelings, either his or those of others, he could always lend a listening ear. And yet you kiss his scars, reassure him that you will always stay by his side, no matter what and will tuck him into bed even. At first he doesn’t trust any of this, thinking you to be too nice to him, but eventually he’ll realize that there are no ulterior motives, that you are just like that towards him. And after some time, he’ll start melting into you, growing to trust you more and more each day. Simon would become a bit softer with you, would walk through fire just so he can see you smile. But you reassure him that no such thing is necessary. He may not ever be sure when it would be appropriate for you, but he’d come to crave your touch more and more as time goes on, even going as far as trapping you in the most tender hug he can muster. Sometimes he fantasizes about laying his head in your lap with you playing with his hair a bit, but he wouldn’t admit to such out loud since he still has his pride. You being protective over him would also be weird to him. He can handle himself just fine, so why are you getting mad at the cashier for the pickle in his burger? Why are you arguing with the drunkard wanting to start a fight with him? He won’t know what to do, no one’s ever protected him from anything ever since he was a little child. It would warm his heart a bit and make him appreciate you even more. Sure, he can do just fine on his own, but he’d be lying if he said his heart wouldn’t skip a beat whenever you’re being protective over him. If he could, he’d just pick you up bridal style and carry you home, but you’re in public so he’ll only think about how much he wants to be your little spoon this entire time. He’ll let his guard down around you and show you that he, too, can be a softer guy underneath his rough exterior with in the most domestic ways out there. He’ll think about marrying you immediately once he’s aware that he’s essentially become a softer man thanks to you. But he’ll wait still until he’s sure you’re on board as well.

[dannygpino]

Nick Amaro has been gone from SVU for almost a decade and I still wanna know the logistics of his move to California.

[endofyourdecadence]

i have some news that i'm very excited about yet simultaneously terrified of sharing, but i really want to share it, so i am begging you to keep your opinions to yourself if you are going to invalidate my identity upon reading the post.

so, i had an (unrelated to gender) endocrinologist appointment today (basically it's the doctor i see for my diabetes but since she's an endo i figured i'd shoot my shot on this), and i worked up the courage to ask my doctor about going on estrogen, as i had my ovaries yeeted five years ago and stopped testosterone three years ago since it was making my dysphoria worse after a certain point. and she agreed to start me on a mid-level dose of estrogen!

i have had a hell of a journey to get to this point, trying to figure out how i'm comfy presenting and what my goals are with regard to transition, with some regrets and missteps along the way. for clarity, i'm cafab intersex and nonbinary. i identified as a binary trans man for years because i didn't know that dysphoric nonbinary people were a thing, and by the time i figured out i wasn't a dude, i had already legally changed my name and gender marker. the gender marker has been changed back to female to match my birth certificate since i'm no longer on testosterone so when i moved to a different state they had to go by my assigned sex at birth, and if they ever legalize marriage for people on the type of disability i'm on, i'll probably just change my first name and middle name when i change my last name to my fiance's. hopefully someday ohio gets an X marker for gender so i don't have to misgender myself on official paperwork.

i was on testosterone for seven years and while a lot of the changes were affirming, the big thing that bothered me was the body shape changes. i have never really wanted an inverted triangle body shape (not a judgment on anyone with that body shape, i just feel as if it's too overtly masculine for me to be comfortable having on myself), and seeing it in the mirror, watching my hips and ass seemingly disappear, made me incredibly uncomfortable. i wouldn't exactly describe it as dysphoria at first, but after a while, it did get to a point where i was dysphoric about it. i have always felt somewhat uneasy around men with broad shoulders and the inverted triangle body shape due to trauma (it makes me feel like they're going to hurt me since they look so strong), and seeing it in the mirror was extremely upsetting.

now, if i'm cafab, why do i need estrogen? well, first of all, by the time i was in my twenties, my ovaries were essentially non-functional due to the whole intersex thing. so at age twenty-two, i had a total hysterectomy where they took my entire internal reproductive system, including the ovaries, tubes, uterus, and cervix. i'm essentially a cafab eunuch. my body has basically no sex hormones in it anymore, because it is incapable of producing them in an amount that would have any effect on me.

anyway, i'll probably pick up my prescription on monday if my insurance doesn't pitch a fit over my chart still saying my sex is male since they changed it after i got my plumbing yeeted.

[shitty-check-please-aus]

do you ever hear a take so rancid that you desperately hope that the person who said that has changed their mind entirely

[nathanwilliams]

[senadimell]

I am registered to vote!!

[gallifreyanconsultingphilosopher]

Someone, again, commented on me still only having my learner's permit like "you don't have your license? And you're how old?" Which I don't get often but I'm still sick of it so I just straight up said "I was too busy trying not to kill myself when I was a teenager. I had other things to worry about"

[munsster]

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong. 

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

more like this

masterlist

[decolonize-the-everything]

This is not a drill

This is IMPORTANT especially if you live in the USA or use the internet REGULATED by the USA!!!!

Do not scroll. Signal boost. Reblog.

Reblog WITHOUT reading if you really can't right now, I promise all the links and proof are here. People NEED to know this.

( I tried to make this accessible but you can't cater to EVERYONE so please just try your best to get through this or do your own research 🙏)

TLDR: Homeland Security has been tying our social media to our IPs, licenses, posts, emails, selfies, cloud, apps, location, etc through our phones without a warrant using Babel X and will hold that information gathered for 75 years. Certain aspects of it were hushed because law enforcement will/does/has used it and it would give away confidential information about ongoing operations.

This gets renewed in September.

Between this, Agincourt (a VR simulator for cops Directly related to this project), cop city, and widespread demonization of abortions, sex workers, & queer people mixed with qanon/Trumpism, and fascism in Florida, and the return of child labor, & removed abortion rights fresh on our tails it's time for alarms to be raised and it's time for everyone to stop calling us paranoid and start showing up to protest and mutual aid groups.

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

These are the same feds who want to build cop city and recreate civilian houses en masse and use facial recognition. The same feds that want cop city to also be a training ground for police across the country. Cop city where they will build civilian neighborhoods to train in.

Widespread mass surveillance against us.

Now let's cut to some parts of the article. May 17th from Vice:

Customs and Border Protection (CBP) is using an invasive, AI-powered monitoring tool to screen travelers, including U.S. citizens, refugees, and people seeking asylum, which can in some cases link their social media posts to their Social Security number and location data, according to an internal CBP document obtained by Motherboard.

Called Babel X, the system lets a user input a piece of information about a target—their name, email address, or telephone number—and receive a bevy of data in return, according to the document. Results can include their social media posts, linked IP address, employment history, and unique advertising identifiers associated with their mobile phone. The monitoring can apply to U.S. persons, including citizens and permanent residents, as well as refugees and asylum seekers, according to the document.

“Babel data will be used/captured/stored in support of CBP targeting, vetting, operations and analysis,” the document reads. Babel X will be used to “identify potential derogatory and confirmatory information” associated with travelers, persons of interest, and “persons seeking benefits.” The document then says results from Babel X will be stored in other CBP operated systems for 75 years.

"The U.S. government’s ever-expanding social media dragnet is certain to chill people from engaging in protected speech and association online. And CBP’s use of this social media surveillance technology is especially concerning in connection with existing rules requiring millions of visa applicants each year to register their social media handles with the government. As we’ve argued in a related lawsuit, the government simply has no legitimate interest in collecting and retaining such sensitive information on this immense scale,” Carrie DeCell, senior staff attorney at the Knight First Amendment Institute, told Motherboard in an email.

The full list of information that Babel X may provide to CBP analysts is a target’s name, date of birth, address, usernames, email address, phone number, social media content, images, IP address, Social Security number, driver’s license number, employment history, and location data based on geolocation tags in public posts.

Bennett Cyphers, a special advisor to activist

organization the Electronic Frontier Foundation, told Motherboard in an online chat “the data isn’t limited to public posts made under someone’s real name on Facebook or Twitter.”

The document says CBP also has access to AdID information through an add-on called Locate X, which includes smartphone location data. AdID information is data such as a device’s unique advertising ID, which can act as an useful identifier for tracking a phone and, by extension, a person’s movements. Babel Street obtains location information from a long supply chain of data. Ordinary apps installed on peoples’ smartphones provide data to a company called Gravy Analytics, which repackages that location data and sells it to law enforcement agencies via its related company Venntel. But Babel Street also repackages Venntel’s data for its own Locate X product."

The PTA obtained by Motherboard says that Locate X is covered by a separate “commercial telemetry” PTA. CBP denied Motherboard’s FOIA request for a copy of this document, claiming it “would disclose techniques and/or procedures for law enforcement investigations or prosecutions”.

A former Babel Street employee previously told Motherboard how users of Locate X can draw a shape on a map known as a geofence, see all devices Babel Street has data on for that location, and then follow a specific device to see where else it has been.

Cyphers from the EFF added “most of the people whose location data is collected in this way likely have no idea it’s happening.”

CBP has been purchasing access to location data without a warrant, a practice that critics say violates the Fourth Amendment. Under a ruling from the Supreme Court, law enforcement agencies need court approval before accessing location data generated by a cell phone tower; those critics believe this applies to location data generated by smartphone apps too.

“Homeland Security needs to come clean to the American people about how it believes it can legally purchase and use U.S. location data without any kind of court order. Americans' privacy shouldn't depend on whether the government uses a court order or credit card,” Senator Ron Wyden told Motherboard in a statement. “DHS should stop violating Americans' rights, and Congress should pass my bipartisan legislation to prohibit the government's purchase of Americans' data." CBP has refused to tell Congress what legal authority it is following when using commercially bought smartphone location data to track Americans without a warrant.

Neither CBP or Babel Street responded to a request for comment. Motherboard visited the Babel X section of Babel Street’s website on Tuesday. On Wednesday before publication, that product page was replaced with a message that said “page not found.”

Do you know anything else about how Babel X is being used by government or private clients? Do you work for Babel Street? We'd love to hear from you. Using a non-work phone or computer, you can contact Joseph Cox securely on Signal on +44 20 8133 5190, Wickr on josephcox, or email joseph.cox@vice.com.

Wow that sounds bad right.

Be a shame if it got worse.

.

.

It does.

The software (previously Agincourt Solutions) is sold by AI data company Babel Street, was led by Jeffrey Chapman, a former Treasury Department official,, Navy retiree & Earlier in his career a White House aide and intelligence officer at the Department of Defense, according to LinkedIn.

🙃

So what's Agincourt Solutions then right now?

SO FUCKING SUS IN RELATION TO THIS, THATS WHAT

In essence, synthetic BATTLEVR training is a mixture of all three realities – virtual, augmented and physical. It is flexible enough to allow for mission rehearsals of most types and be intuitive enough to make training effective.

Anyway the new CEO of Babel Street (Babel X) as of April is a guy named Michael Southworth and I couldn't find much more on him than that tbh, it's all very vague and missing. That's the most detail I've seen on him.

And the detail says he has a history of tech startups that scanned paperwork and sent it elsewhere, good with numbers, and has a lot of knowledge about cell networks probably.

Every inch more of this I learn as I continue to Google the names and companies popping up... It gets worse.

Monitor phone use. Quit photobombing and filming strangers and for the love of fucking God quit sending apps photos of your actual legal ID to prove your age. Just don't use that site, you'll be fine I swear. And quit posting your private info online. For activists/leftists NO personally identifiable info at least AND DEFINITELY leave your phone at home to Work™!!!

[djnusagi]

this Twitter account is using my selfies to pretend to be me and post various racist and generally inflammatory stuff (a lot of it pro Israel and a lot of Taylor Swift stuff for some reason?) please know this is not me and report the account for impersonation if you can. it’s @ KARMALlZED with a lowercase L instead of an i

I’m doubtful it’ll get reported because the form I filled out required me to submit government ID and

1) my driver’s license photo looks nothing like me anymore and

2) it requires “proof of alias” if my name on Twitter doesn’t match the name on the ID. I’ve never used my deadname on this account and haven’t legally changed my name to Vanessa nor is “nusagi” a registered trademark or LLC (maybe I should get on that idk) but because of that I’ll probably lack sufficient proof.

Would be nice to get it taken down but I’m doubtful. What matters is that you all know this isn’t fucking me and I would never post anything like this.

ALSO PLEASE DO NOT @ OR DM OR ANY WAY DIRECTLY INTERACT WITH THIS ACCOUNT. THAT WILL JUST BRING HARASSMENT DIRECTLY TO ME. REPORT AND MOVE ON.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Curb… Curb!!

Requested by the lovely @pipsqueakkitten xoxo

Blurb: Eddie tries to help you pass your driving test…

Pairing: Bestfriend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiousness/anxiety is experienced, bad driving, fluff, kissing… that’s it!

-

Eddie’s favourite song thumps through the speakers in his van, the entire vehicle feels as if it is vibrating beneath your seat with every pulsing sound wave. Eddie’s fingers drum against the dashboard, his head banging up and down to the beat which makes his ringed hair flip wildly. Unbeknownst to Eddie, though, the music was only intensifying the anxiety ridden beast that had awoken deep inside of your stomach. You hated driving. Despised it, even, however you knew that if you wanted to ever make it out of this cursed town then you needed to get your license and quick.

“Eddie…” you whimper but your meek voice is lost beneath the music. Your hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles have turned pale- the bones straining aggressively against the skin.

After being ignored you let out a huff, your eyes nearly welling with tears as you try to stop your legs from shaking- the ‘Elvis Leg’ is what your instructor calls it. When your nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree and the muscles in your calf’s spasm outwith your control.

“Eddie!!” You manage to muster a yell, your throat is disturbingly dry in your panicked state and your palms are beginning to sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. You are oddly aware of the way your bare thighs are pressed against your seat, the stiff carpeted fabric irking the skin and suddenly how hot it is inside of the van.

“Oh c’mon, sweetheart!” Eddie flashes you a Cheshire toothy grin that you only manage to catch a second long glimpse of, “You usually love this song!” His abdomen twists toward you, his chocolate brownie eyes drinking in your tense mannerisms.

Your elbows are locked in a 45° angle and your eyes are blown to the size of saucers. You look absolutely terrified and Eddie’s heart shrinks in his chest at the sight, “Honey? hey…” His calluses covered finger tips hesitantly find the plush skin of your thigh, resting his hand there and allowing his fingertips to dance circles over your knees, “It’s okay. I’m sorry…” The music is turned all the way down with his free hand and you feel as though you can breathe again.

“I can’t do this.” Your head shakes a top your shoulders as you mind swirls with nothing but doubt and frustration. You’re never going to pass your test.

Eddie shushes you comfortingly, “Yes you can. There’s no one around, love.” He scans the parking lot that is totally deserted, you are the only two there, “You don’t have to worry so much. Just take your time. Nice n’ easy.”

Nice and easy. Take your time.

There is a sharp intake of breath as you register Eddie’s hand on your thigh. Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock on your forehead as you flick your eyes over at him, smiling nervously.

“Now, if you just focus on your steering-“ You exhale deeply, your fingers loosening slightly as you relax back onto the seat, “Aim for that trash can over there.” Eddie’s ringed finger points off into the distance and you chew on your lip- a habit you’ve gained as you concentrate.

You appreciate Eddie’s patience and how calm he is next to you. You aren’t the best driver in the world and you’re grateful that Eddie is trying his best to make this as fun as possible for you. You know driving shouldn’t stress anyone out as much as it stresses you out- but you’re an anxious person. You can’t help it.

Listening to Eddie you circle around the empty spaces in the lot, driving toward the trash can Eddie had pointed out… however a sudden outburst from the messy headed man next to you makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Curb… curb!!” He reaches for the steering wheel, pulling it toward him and swerving you both out of the way. The van screeches to a haunt and your ears are ringing with fear as you try to ground yourself.

Eddie chuckles by your side but you don’t feel like laughing, actually, your hand grabs at your chest desperate to calm your thundering heart. If you thought you were afraid before, this must be hell itself causing havoc inside of your chest.

Your vision blanks and all you can focus on is the short bursts of breath being sucked in and out of your mouth. Eddie’s voice is lost to the black cloud entrapping your mind.

“Sweetheart? Baby?” His large palms find your shoulders shortly after he had unbuckled your seatbelt, “Honey, you’re scaring me.” You still are unable to respond, tears blurring your vision completely as your body starts to tremble uncontrollably.

“I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” Eddie pulls you to his chest, holding your head there with your ear pressed flush against his pecks. You get sucked into the rhythm of his beating heart and its acts like an anchor, bringing you back to safety.

“I don’t want to drive anymore today.” Your voice is a mix of sniffles and a hoarseness and Eddie quietly nods his head, acknowledging how fearful you are.

“How about you sit on my lap as I take you home? Show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of…” In reality, Eddie just wanted to keep you as close to him as possible. He can sense that his touch is comforting to you, but it’s also comforting to him to have you so near.

There is a pause, a moment of thought before you mod your head in agreement, allowing Eddie to slot beneath you in the drivers seat, “Can you see the road?” You question, your body is still on edge.

“Yep, sure can.” He promises, pulling the seatbelt to its maximum length so it’ll fit over the both of you. Eddie has a bad habit of not wearing a seatbelt very often, but he prioritises your safety above all else.. even his ego. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” And without another word Eddie speeds off into the distance, one hand leisurely placed on the steering wheel and the other rests on the inside of your thigh, squishing and gripping the skin.

You loved spending time with Eddie, it was why he was your best friend. You both spent nearly every waking moment together- laughing, fighting over who gets the last cookie and you always managed to partake in silly things like this.

He knew how to calm your wild heart just with a simple touch, just with a look or a smile. He knew you.

As your street approached in the distance Eddie laid a few peckish kisses onto your exposed shoulder, making you giggle at the contact. He would do anything to hear you laugh- to see you happy. Even if that meant he never got to tell you how he felt… how he loved you more than just being friends.

He thanks his lucky stars every night for the both of you meeting. It started in the halls at school, you weren’t paying attention and you rammed into him- papers flew everywhere, your lips parted in utter shock and Eddie forced himself to laugh otherwise he would have been pissed. But once he got a good look at you.. part of him knew you’d be together. Friends or not.

“Here we are!” Eddie exclaims with a grin and you return a smile.

“You wanna come in?” You ask, toying with the hem of your skirt, “Everyone’s out for the night… I don’t wanna be alone.” You shrug, trying to dismiss your honesty and Eddie twists the key in the ignition, the engine coming to a roaring stop.

“Lead the way, m’lady.” Throwing open the van door you jump down from the seat, about to kiss the ground with happiness at the mere sight of it. You’ve never been more thrilled to have your feet on the ground than you are right now.

“I can stay the night, if you’d like? Can watch some cheesy movies and critique them together?” Your heart flutters.

“Deal- you just can’t say anything bad about Dirty Dancing, okay? Otherwise I’ll take a swing at you.” You were joking partly. You just loved to watch Eddie squirm with annoyance, impatiently waiting to have his pick of the next film.

He groans, throwing his head back childishly, “Fine.” He follows you into the empty house. It’s dark and there is a prick of a chill in the air.

“If I have to endure this fetish fest just because you’re madly in love with Patrick Swayze then you have to watch The Shining afterwards-“ You interrupt him with a gasp.

Offended, you say, “I am not in love with Patrick Swayze!” Your voice is a shriek and Eddie smirks.

“You so are! Gawking at his muscles. Why else would you watch it? You watch it to watch him!” Eddie can barely speak from laughing and you swat at his chest.

“I do not watch it for him! He isn’t even attractive, he doesn’t look like you!” A silence falls over the living room and you gulp all too loudly.

“What?” Eddie is no longer laughing and there is a seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to you, “What did you say about Patrick Swayze not looking like me?” You can see Eddie fighting to stop a shit eating grin from blessing his face and your cheeks heat as he repeats your own words back at you.

“He doesn’t, evidentially.” You gesture to Eddies body, your eyes shooting wide as you realise how bitchy you sound, “No- it’s a good thing! I like the way you look- I love the way you look. I don’t like him. That’s what I’m trying to say-“ As you ramble Eddie watches you closely, his eyes falling to your lips.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Your jaw falls slack and before you can even think of a reply Eddie presses his lips to yours. The warmth of him being so near envelopes you and transports you to a whole new dimension.

The kiss is sweet and tender, Eddie wants to be careful with you. He doesn’t want to ruin this. But he doesn’t know how badly you want him. How badly you have wanted this for so long.

“Patrick fucking Swayze cannot compare to all of this.” Eddie’s hands stroke down his chest, his hips swaying from side to side causing you to snort out a laugh.

“No… no he can’t.” You agree, your voice gentle as you pull Eddie back to you, going in for another kiss.

This time, you’re not letting him go.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n

[drivinglicenseinc]

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[missmoonfrost]

Driving lessons - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic August 28 - coach Words: 406

“Hello! How can I help you?” Remus looks up from the counter and greets the man walking into the driving school.

He tosses his head, making long black hair dance out of his face in an elegant movement and reveal the most stunning features Remus ever had the fortune to lay eyes on. Remus is glad he already said hello because right now he has forgotten how to speak.

“Motorcycle riding lesson, first time. Booked in the name Sirius Black.”

Remus nods. Then he remembers he is supposed to do something with that information, not just enjoy the voice.

“Right… Eh… Do you have a permit?”

“Well… it’s not for me. I booked for my friend. James Potter. He will be here in a sec.”

“Okay. Does he have a permit?”

“I think so. He’s supposed to have sent it in?”

“Let me go check.”

Remus dives behind the curtain to the crammed office and starts shuffling through the permits on P. Halfway through he realises his mind is too occupied with Sirius Black waiting at the counter to register what he’s looking at and has to start over.

He can hear the door open again.

“You’re off the bet.” Sirius Black says in a low voice.

“Come again?” says someone who is probably the Potter whose papers he just found. But Remus stands still, just to hear where this goes. “The bet, that being married had suddenly made me so dull that I wouldn’t do anything like getting a motorcycle license? It’s off? Why? You already paid.”

“I figured I’ll use the lessons for myself.”

“You already have a motorcycle licence?!”

“Shh!”

“Oh, I see.” Potter chuckles.

”Shut up.” Sirius responds, still in a hushed voice. “He’s hot, okay?”

Remus can’t help the smile that fills his face when he steps back out with the papers in hand. Sirius inhales sharply, probably just then realising what bad soundproofing a thin curtain is, and looks mortified.

Remus smiles even wider. “I’m not the instructor.” As on cue, Emma steps out from the staffroom. “Ah, here she is.”

Remus locks eyes with Sirius and leans forward over the counter in what he hopes is an inviting pose, “But if you want me to coach you in anything else, give me a call.” Sirius grins widely as he takes the driving school's business card with Remus’ number scribbled on the back and follows his friend out the door.

Does getting a driver's license work this way in other countries? Do you need a permit first before you begin lessons?

[roboticchibitan]

I've been thinking about voter suppression since yesterday. Specifically about ID requirements to vote, because I got a notification in the mail yesterday that my license expires on my birthday and it's going to cost $129 to renew. And according to the DOL I can get a reduced fee card for $25 but it's unclear if this is a license or just an ID card. When I look around the DOL website it refers you to the department of social and health services but a search of their website turns up NOTHING about this program so I can't figure out if I can get a license for a reduced fee.

Not only that, but there's two types of ID cards in Washington, regular IDs and "enhanced" IDs. An enhanced ID is required for re-entry into the US at land and sea border crossings. Starting in 2025 it'll also be required for domestic air travel. Even if I were to get this discounted card, which may or may not be a license, if I want it to be an enhanced ID I'd have to pay an extra $7 for each year it's valid. Washington does 6 and 8 year ID cards. So if I want to be able to go anywhere by plane, I am paying at least $67 for an ID card that, again, I cannot tell if it's actually a license or just an ID.

I really wish a percentage of that $129 went towards a fee waiver for enhanced driver's licenses. I would gladly pay for that. Because this is outrageous. I could get a passport for that much money.

And you know, to me, if I just needed an ID to vote and nothing else, $25 is doable. But to some people it's not. The most vulnerable people in society shouldn't have to choose between eating and being able to vote.

Requiring ID for voting is a form of voter suppression that affects the most vulnerable in our society. The people who need the most help. Not to mention the fact that voter ID laws disproportionately affect people of color.

Expand voting access! Enable voting by mail! And while we're at it, incorporate ranked choice voting!

If you want to support efforts to expand voting access, vote.org is a bipartisan independent charity organization working on that front. They score highly on charity navigator. They also have an easy tool to double check that you are still registered to vote because there's a history of people's registrations being purged. So it's good to check and I recommend you do.

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Hoshi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

One Shots

What? Like It's Hard? (f a) by @starsstuddedsky ✩♬ ₊˚. With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows. 

The thing about love (a f) by @gyuswhore ✩♬ ₊˚. The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio. He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief. You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

driving lessons for dummies (f s) by @shuaflix ✩♬ ₊˚. ❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞

Main Thing (s) by @hannieehaee ✩♬ ₊˚. after years of insistence from soonyoung, he finally convinces resident social butterfly seungkwan to introduce him to his unrequited crush; a fellow idol at hybe who he has not been able to take his eyes off since moving to the company.

high-rise (s) by @sluttywonwoo ✩♬ ₊˚. walking around your apartment naked has never been a problem, since you live in a high-rise and no one can see in, at least that’s what you thought…

vowels and veracity (f s) by @hansolmates ✩♬ ₊˚. after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

Bluff and Nonsense (a) by @thepixelelf ✩♬ ₊˚. “Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

sweatshirt season (s f) by @eoieopda ✩♬ ₊˚. your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them.

warm (s) by @cheolism ✩♬ ₊˚. you are so warm beneath the blankets and, like a moth drawn to a flame, soonyoung was helpless to resist your body.

charity f*ck (s) by @ncteez ✩♬ ₊˚. Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Well, yeah, your first time was both losing your own and taking someone else’s but, that was a long time ago. Have you ever taken the virginity of a twenty-six-year-old man who probably should have gotten laid by now anyway? Nope. Are you about to? Yep.

crazy stupid love (s f) by @toruro ✩♬ ₊˚. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

good influence (s) by @cheolism ✩♬ ₊˚. slowly soonyoung begins to influence you into making some questionable decisions

Delicate (f) by @idyllic-ghost ✩♬ ₊˚. You've been friends since he could remember, and since that summer night last year it's been different - you can both feel it. So why is it so hard to just say it?

worth it (f) by @fallinnflower

best friend hoshi (s) by @97-liners

7PM (s) (ft. seokmin and seungkwan) by @onlymingyus

[overtake]

“a sexual awakening so intense it registered on the richter scale” is the single best and most accurate description I have ever heard.

pov: you're 16 years old and doing the final test for your super license ahead of joining f1 as the youngest ever driver. you expect the doubt and hate, and you know you can prove on track why you deserve to be there once you actually get in a car, but until then, you just have to be the subject of everyone's headlines and criticism for a factor you can't control.

then this guy comes along.

race winner who got himself to a top team and is beating his world champion teammate, a cool older handsome charismatic guy with a giant smile and big brown eyes, beloved and kind while still being fiercely talented, competitive, and hungry? the guy who you met in 2011 and who gave you the time of day before you were old enough to sniff at the f1 grid. he's not even going to be your actual teammate (yet), but he still takes the time to tell you he's looking forward to seeing you on the grid when so much of what you've heard is nonstop criticism.

he tells you good luck for your super license with a big grin meant just for you

and this is how it makes you feel.

this is live footage of daniel ricciardo becoming a permanent fixture in max's spank bank. it's one of those foundational crushes you have at a young age that sticks with you for life and unconsciously affects "your type" forever and never truly goes away.

also, i just think everyone should hear the way max very softly says "he's a really nice guy, yeah" with so much affection packed into every word.

how are you not to psychosexually imprint on him? one look at that video and max was ready to risk it all. he's been metaphorically tucking his hair, kicking his feet, and giggling since day one. he found a guy who he could race hard, who would challenge him on track, but who would still make the miserable pr days better for them, who was always laughing at max's jokes every time he did his little glance over to ensure it landed. max is so fiercely loyal to his people, and daniel has clearly earned that trust.

tldr: max verstappen is number one dirlie and if he were on f1blr, he would be writing long posts with onboards, data, and that ☝️🤓 attitude of his explaining in detail why everyone is wrong about daniel, and i hope it haunts all the max fans who get their rocks off to calling daniel a washed asshole loser that max's porn folder is daniel late braking compilations.