#fuck it it's state farm. state farm emptied our accounts

[bigbigtruck]

There will probably not be a Shot & Chaser update this Tuesday, as, in a stunning display of thematic appropriateness, I was temporarily bankrupted by corporate incompetence and immediately after that, got COVID

[valkblue]

Being a Behavior technician requires a certain amount of dedication to the job — the rigorous type, bordeline rigid. That’s what is expected to be at peak efficiency regarding analysis protocols and diagnostics for host service and calibration.

For that, Vivian thinks she might be the worst tech in her department. 

— masterlist, AO3

Chapter 1 on 12

Chapter wordcount: 2,486 Story status: Complete Rating: General Warning: people swear a lot, technobabble counts as swearing as well (believe me)…

Author’s notes: This is the first time I post a fanfic online. A real big one I mean. Not just crackfics... I’m emotional. I don’t know what the schedule will be yet because my queue is acting up, but everything should be out regularly, or something that looks like it. This first chapter is an intro to the main character and what she does, and I hope you’ll enjoy this story and its characters all the way!  Also, I really want to thank @pheedraws​ and @something-tofightfor​ for their heartwarming feedback on the whole story. Thank you SO much!!

Have a good time reading, and my askbox/messages are open! 💙

— Chapter 1

Now wasn’t a good time to yawn…

And yet, Vivian had nothing else to do but wait right now, wait while the progress bars slowly filled up on her tablet screen.

Now wasn’t the time, simply because some of her colleagues were passing through the hallway, behind the glass panels of her cubicle, and among them was the head of Behavior department — incidentally, her superior.

No doubt they were all about to grab a bite at the restaurant and Vivian held back an almost envious mumble; she was starving! But before she could go eat anything, she had to finish with her last subject on her morning schedule; host ID#DH410829420391, named Mildred.

And Mildred was back at the lab on account of a negative report about her response time during interactions with other hosts but also with guests. A lag that only happened in character mode, not in analysis. So, Vivian started with refreshing her lexical base and improvisation engine. It took some time to check the entire tree but as of now, it was done.

"Can you confirm if the update’s complete?"

"Confirmed," Mildred answered right away, her voice flat and her look vacant.

"Back in character mode."

Mildred seemed to wake up and blinked once before focusing her attention  back on Vivian.

"Mildred?"

"Oh, I’m sorry," she answered with a hint of a shy smile. "I must have drifted off, I believe… The working hours at the farm are ungodly sometimes!"

The response time was more than good, now. The improvisation too.

"I was wondering if there’s a lot of clients at the farm these days," Vivian asked.

The answer was not long to come.

"Certainly! Our cattle sure gives the best milk there is. No matter what the competition says!"

"How many green bottles are standing on the wall?"

Questions and procedures were always more or less the same to determine which bits of code, settings or values could cause an issue or start to glitch like crazy!

But today, for Mildred — and Vivian — everything was back in order, and each/both of them could soon return to the the usual course of their scheduled day.

It was about time for Vivian to take a break, if she was reduced to that kind of wisecrack…

A glance at her wristwatch, even while her tablet displayed a more accurate time than the watch hands, and Vivian concluded her analysis. She folded the tablet, slid it back in her jacket pocket, and left the large glass room after one last embarrassed look at Mildred she was leaving there, naked in the dark. Vivian didn’t even fight down a shiver. It was actually freezing cold in there!

She comforted herself with the thought that Mildred didn’t feel anything in this state, disconnected, and that a team wouldn’t take too long to come get her, do her hair, dress her up and put her back in rotation in no time. Barely as much as Vivian had for her lunch break… and that was just enough to go all the way up to the hub restaurant. But the bosses here didn’t care much about how long the lunch breaks lasted, as long as the work was done in time.

So, Vivian didn’t hurry to get to the elevator she shared with two co-workers who only interrupted their chitchat about hockey results for a vague greeting.

At this hour, the restaurant was a bit more crowded but it still wasn’t too hard to find a seat in the large and relatively peaceful room. The whole vibe in it was corporate though, even in that staff only room; every dish were stamped with the park logo and name — from the bottom of the plates to the salt shakers — and a flat HD screen displayed a bunch of Delos branches ads that looked much weirder without sound.

After a while, one didn’t really pay attention to all this anymore… A few months was enough to make it all part of the landscape and for the mind to simply stop noticing it.

And Vivian had been working here for three years, now.

However, she was still bothered by a few details sometimes, such as the huge white walls that spanned all the way up a balcony floor and a domed ceiling or the fact that the stalls were lit with a pale light under which the food turned to a sickly colour.

Hopefully, under the less saturated lights of the main room, the Caesar salads and the turkey-tomato sandwiches were back to a more appetizing hue.

Her tray loaded with a potato-corn salad, a big glass of water and a piece of bread, Vivian walked towards the tables, eager for her potatoes to lose their blueish glint. Just shy of the screen, she recognised a familiar face, Margaret’s, another Behavior tech from her team. Both were on friendly basis now, where it was possible to enjoy some time together and to laugh a little, even if it took them a whole year to finally break the ice.

Margaret waved at Vivian when she saw her pick her way across the room, inviting her to join them — them being Margaret, and three other guys from their department.

"Did you hear the latest, Vivian!?" she blurted. "I’ve been told that Damon Dyers is in the park, at this very moment!"

"Damon… Dyers?"

Vivian didn’t even hide her puzzlement while sitting in front of her.

"The actor," one of the three guys — Luke — pointed out. "Marge was just exposing how she’ll mooch the control room techs for a footage…"

"Listen, if you were as thirsty as I am about this guy, you’d understand!" Margaret replied.

To that, he quipped:

"My husband would be pissed!"

All chuckled in approval before returning to their almost emptied plates, while Vivian had barely touched her own.

"Can you imagine," Margaret daydreamt, leaning back in her seat as in a comfy armchair, holding her Pyrex glass like a snifter of bourbon. "Damon hunting down Escaton in the hills…"

Vivian scoffed; she could imagine, indeed.

At the table, Charles, Thawal and Luke didn’t pay any more attention to them, carrying on with their chat about retro gaming. Vivian would probably have preferred to be part of that conversation; not that she didn’t know shit about movies and their actors, but more like aside from a few exceptions on which they got along swimmingly, she didn’t have much taste in common with Margaret. But she listened to her friend anyway as she kept going after a sip of sparkling water:

"How am I not supposed to be hot on the idea!? I’ll deadass find someone to bootleg me some footages!"

Vivian smiled out of politeness, not saying much, as always. Her mouth was full anyway.

"Oh, by the way!"

Margaret took another swip of her glass before putting it down on the table and leaning towards Vivian.

"Apparently, they’re going to burden us with a whole new bunch of hosts in two or three weeks," she said, with all the serious she could muster. "I heard that from Elsie. Narrative must be trying to compensate for something, if you know what I mean…"

Vivian knew very well.

"We barely have time to light a fag between two sessions already and they plan to add another hundred on our backs!?"

She snorted disdainfully.

"Don’t know what they’re spicing their coffee with but it isn’t doing them any good."

"No shit," admitted Vivian, a bit testy at the idea. "Unless they also plan to hire? Did Lowe say anything about it?"

Margaret shrugged.

"No idea, I haven’t talked to him in a while."

She patted her blazer pockets then sighed softly; Vivian understood her attitude as relief, and a craving, even a need to light a cigarette.

"You should ask," Margaret pointed out with a smile a tad clenched in the orbicularis muscles. "You like him, right?"

Vivian approved; she admired his thoroughness, his love for details… A lot could be learned while working under his care and Vivian found him both spirited and friendly.

Margaret didn’t quite share the feeling, however; in her own words, he was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

"Anyway, I’m off," Margaret stated with an even greater impatience in her voice. "I gotta light one before the crazy afternoon waiting for me!"

She gathered her cutlery on her tray, adding:

"Not giving up on the idea to come across Damon fucking Dyers, though! At least in video recs. Wish me luck!"

Vivian nodded and Margaret put her tray away on the sideboard before hurrying to the exit.

Her colleagues had changed topics next to her, and now they were talking about cars, motorcycles and mechanics. As she didn’t know much about that topic, not as much as in computers, she listened only a little without taking part.

Then, Vivian finished wolfing down her potato salad and her glass of water; she would soon return to her shift and examine a series of hosts, the characteristics of which she overviewed on her tablet from her timetable’s folders. It was simply routine checks, and Vivian liked that kind of sessions; it was like meeting with a friend, just to catch up with them.

But for now, she would take a few minutes to get some air and natural light on top of the hub before diving back into the high tech depths of the Mesa.

At seven in the evening, closer to eight, Vivian was glad to be back to her on-site apartments. Once again, she had grabbed a snack at the restaurant but the room was much more crowded than it was at lunch and came close to a headache before reaching "home". She could have dined here, cooked something on her induction hob but she was so tired — or lazy — that, tonight again, she still choose to eat at the restaurant over having to do the dishes!

Now, she was getting out of the shower in her bathrobe and throw herself on her bed.

Living like this, it was like being a teenager all over again, back at her parents’, or at the dorm… but once she closed her apartment’s door, Vivian was totally free to do whatever she wanted. As long as it didn’t involve wrecking the place!

But now, even if she wanted to, Vivian wouldn’t have had the strength to break any chair, nor even to make a mess of the bed… About that, she was actually planning on laying there, and falling asleep in her bathrobe while watching a movie or reading any book she had available on her personal tablet. A tablet that was nothing close to the one she was using every day in the Behavior department labs, but a tablet anyway.

She swiped the covers without any real interest; in all honesty, she was feeling too tired to read. Even something she had already read. And she cringed a little when the minimalistic cover with her automatically signed name appeared.

Yeah, even too tired to read her own words!

Besides, it wasn’t great literature at all — a fanfiction. Two, to be precise. Both about the hosts and their narratives as she could have written about a movie, book, or video game’s characters.

Vivian grumbled, letting her tablet fall flat on her stomach, and she stared at the white ceiling before closing her eyes while nibbling her lips. She had written this almost six months after she started working here, taken over by all the motivation, excitement and creativity around her!

She refocused on herself since but, in the meantime, she wrote these. And even though Vivian considered herself to have a fertile imagination, she still commended herself about how better for everyone it was she hadn’t applied for a job in Narrative…

Rising her tablet up again and tapping on the lit screen, she entered the file and skimmed through it, trying to ignore the grammar mistakes she stopped committing since; and mistakes aside, her stories had nothing exceptional, totally influenced as they were by her mood and the not-so-new-but-still-trendy storyline — Escaton’s and his bandits, essentially…

Over a very short time, when Vivian was still more or less trying to fit into the life of the facility and social circles of her co-workers whose names had yet to be caught, she had heard so many comments, appreciations and reviews for this narrative that she looked into it first.

After all, the park afforded Lee Sizemore, renowned author who made a big name for himself with a "hot and grimy" historical saga, a few years back before running out of puff under his editor’s pressure. And a juicy offer by a video game studio to adapt it. 

She understood; everybody, whether staff or guests, was more or less hyped by the brute force brought by Hector Escaton — virile and dark male figure — to the relative tranquility of the park’s starting point.

And Vivian had been no exception.

If her first story was only about made-up characters to explore the pleasing and well rounded context of Sweetwater, her second, on the other hand, was more audacious, altering shamelessly the story from what its authors had surely intended; victorious over the town after killing the sheriff and all opposition, Escaton and his gang enjoyed their plunder at the Mariposa where Hector fell for one of the saloon girls.

That being said, Vivian remained very proper — maybe totally prudish — in these sort of narrative fantasies of hers; nothing turned freaky or utterly violent…

All she did was throwing a few sentences on her writing app for some evenings, when inspiration struck or simply because she urged herself to follow through with what she started. All on her personal tablet. She knew better than to write that on anything system-tethered. Imagining that a bored somebody could just hack into the system all the way up to her personal data… and end up on that giddy nonsense, made her wants to puke!

Not to mention that it might also be forbidden. Even though she never planned to, she knew she couldn’t share it with anyone, nor anywhere. Not as a park employee. If the guests were writing critiques and other reviews online about their stay, herself couldn’t talk about it from the inside. Confidentiality and shit…

Her texts would remain secret, and her silly fantasies with them. In any case, it wasn’t as if she intended to try anything for herself, and even less with Hector Escaton, all the more since he wasn’t even part of the batch her team had in charge. And also, rumor has it that fantasies aren’t always good when act upon!

With a lazy tap, Vivian quitted the reading app and dropped the tablet on her sheets before burying her face in her soft pillow. She let out a deep sigh in it, relaxed, and in fact, she fell asleep almost right away.

[heliosthegriffin]

What to do after death; Vampirism

Preface -

I feel the name says it all.

But, I will elaborate anyhow.

I don’t intend on becoming a Vampire, at all. It’s a raw deal and one-way passage into a hell of my own making.

I suspect should I actively pursue becoming a Vampire I will lose my soul to damnation. Vampire’s are often the results of the foulest of magic and consorting with satanic entities with depraved offerings or just as often the results of those black souled individuals who find happiness in the torment of others. If I am not planning on becoming a Vampire, why I am I making this list?

Easy, it pays to be prepared. Just because I don’t seek undeath doesn’t protect me from being turned against my will. I am of the belief, once you have become a Vampire against your will you die and lose your soul, leaving a husk behind. A husk that has all your memories, personality, and desires, but none of the restraint, humanity or compassion. A sociopath with supernatural powers and a need for life essence of others to maintain my own parasitic existence.

I am making the list to give myself direction after death so as to prevent as much suffering as I can, and if possible, try and help humanity grow.

I can only hope my husk listens to my will.

My family is well armed otherwise, they will do what must be done, as I would do for them.

-----------

The List

-----------

Step One - Leave home, let’s not take any chances hurting my loved ones, or former loved ones, I owe them that much.

a) Construct a note though, tell them all how much they meant to me and why I am leaving, be through and leave nothing out, but don’t tell them where I am headed. Leave the code-word I have with our elder brother so he understands and tell him he’s free to what I leave behind.

b) Make a pack, get one of our knives in there and get a gun. Get some blankets so I can cover-up during the day, actually many blankets and some stones so that they’ll be weighted down. This is a temporary solution however.

c) Empty my bank account as much as possible. Cash and coin will be more beneficial if I’m going off the grid.

d) Leave town.

Step Two - Head north and head to a bigger city

a) Buy a sleeping bag and tent at the closest opportunity.

b) Keep an ear to the ground, find out who can go missing and people would be thankful that their gone. Pick my targets carefully, never more than one person at a time and always when their not expecting it, I’m a predator I should act like it. I might have supernatural powers, but I can’t be prepared for everything and people will know my weakness if I get found out.

c) Aim for the scum of the earth, get rid of them, but not until I have conclusive evidence. But, when I do have it, it’s feeding time, make sure to take their valuables, will need it for future plans.

d) Do that for about a month and move on, can’t stay anywhere for too long. But, before we leave buy a couple books on architecture, vampires, morals and ethics, stone-working, physics, building ect. We’re going to need it.

e) Find out if I can sustain our-self off animal blood.

Step Three - Rinse and Repeat. Go from city to city in our state till I’ve cleaned out what I can. Hopefully I’ll have a duffel-bag of money and valuables, along with those books.

a) Study those books. Find out what kind of vampire I am, make sure I learn about building castles.

b) Take some time to practice building.

c) Practice hunting; Hunt some animals to drink their blood if that helps, practice skinning and chopping up the parts. Donate the meat if I can, or leave at a poor home, they probably won’t be able to afford throwing it away.

d) Learn about interior decoration.

e) Get some better guns, drop off the gun we borrowed from our family along with a chunk of changes, leave them another note that we’re doing fine.

Step Four - Time to move. By the time I’ve hit this step I should have hit all the large towns, which depending we’re counting above or below ten thousand as a big town could take us from anywhere three years to around four if I cut off at nine thousand in population for a big town. It’s hard to say how much money I’ll have at this point, but It must be at least ten thousand dollars at a minimum if I’ve spent all my time eating, murdering, and robbing scum of the earth at least once a month for three to four years.

a) Head north. I need to get to Detroit. That place is so crime ridden no will notice a vampire. If there already vampires there leave, go find another crime-ridden hell-hole. I assume vampires get stronger, or at least craftier with age, I am not fucking with any old monsters.

b) On the way there repeat the Step three on any big cities on the way there, cover my tracks.

c) Make sure to pawn off what I can. Invest in urban camo and a bullet-resistant vest.

d) Keep practicing stone masonry, and improve my gun skills. I don’t need to chase anyone down if they can run, plus I can suck the blood from the wounds, it’ll be like a water fountain.

e) Read that book on physics and other science books, I am playing the long game, look into magic too. Nothing is better than magic or science than knowing the rules to both. Don’t fuck with demon’s though.

Step Five - Settle down for a while and then move again, once I get to my crime-ridden hellhole of my choice take some time to start eliminating the seedy elements. If not, start going for the low hanging fruit, I can’t help everybody, but I can help somebody.

a) Find some random kid and become their guardian, a great way to kill time probably.

   ai.) By guardian, I don’t mean parent, I’m talking more guardian spirit. A vampire rasing a child is a recipe for disaster.

   aii.) Don’t get too attached though, after their in a good place leave. I’m not       doing it for good, I’m doing it to maintain a little humanity.

b) By now I should have enough to fund a new identity and since I now live in a corrupt hell-hole it should be easy to enter the system. If I don’t have enough money, then attain it. Don’t try and intimidate anybody just yet me, I don’t have enough influence yet and it’ll just end up screwing me over.

c) Buy an actually house, fake a life for about ten years, then move to another corrupt hell-hole. Start saving valuable, no, start a war found, we’re going to need it.

Step Six - Start prepping for the End. Humanity has conflict in it’s blood, it’s only a matter of time before we go nuclear. Use the funds we have to buy some land in the mountains. Use the stone masonry skills and architect skills I’ve attained over the last several decades to build a fortified castle with space age materials.

a) Create a underground vault for my mortals.

b) Install anti-air defenses, install ground defences, booby-trap my land.

c) Creating a sustainable area for farming if possible, if not work on making sustainable green houses.

d) Start preserving all of human history, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Movies, games, books, porn, all of it. It needs to be preserves. Put it all in the vault. Record all the science, by hand if neccasary.

e) Start stealing relics so that they can be preserved by me. I am definitely going Trazyn the Infinite.

f) Start recruiting people for my cause, screen each and every one.

g) Put my room at the top of the mountain with as long stair case as possible, If these fuckers want to kill me while I sleep I want them to have leg cramps while they do it. Also put booby trap my coffin room.

Step Seven - Rebuilding Society or keep playing the waiting game. If the world has torn itself apart, I will then do what I feel is the best choice. Create bio-augmented techno-knights, or not. 

a) Hopefully decades of research on physics, matter, and engineering will allow me to create powered armor knights, but if not, just keep researching.

b) Make a secret castle deeper into the mountains no one else can reach without significant resources, or supernatural abilities. Start moving my lab, my vault, my copies of human history and media, plus my stored blood there.

c) When I finally succeed leave my first castle to my servants and teach them what I have to offer, leave them the blue prints for becoming techno-knights and leave. I no longer have a place among men or their future, I will merely safeguard the past and record it.

d) Go to my new castle and spend eternity studies reality and building more castles.

-------

Afterword: The probability of me becoming a vampire is close to zero, and the idea of my soul-less husk following is these steps is even less, but should it work it will have been worth it.

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

monse💖 how about stanlon in the rain confessing feelings for the kiss prompts? that would be lovely, just like you are!

Hello my dear, some cute stanlon for you!

Read on AO3

Mike was running through a mental list of all the things he had to do before leaving, while making his way through the library aisles⎯ put the books back on the shelves, pile the stools against the walls then check for stragglers, shut the lights and lock the doors. 

When he finished the first two, he walked towards the study area. He was ready to kill the lights there when he noticed he wasn’t alone. He spotted a pile of books on one of the desks, their owner sleeping with his head buried in his arms next to them, his light brown curls the only thing Mike could see from the door. It wasn't the first time someone fell asleep while studying or reading and Mike had to wake them before closing up. It happened a lot, especially during finals week. 

Mike walked over and gave the guy a little shove. “Wake up.” He said, but he didn’t even stir. “Hey buddy, you have to wake up.” He tried again, a bit louder. The guy let out an annoyed groan, nuzzling further into his arms. Mike let out a soft chuckle. “Listen man, I would leave you here if I could but my boss would probably kill me." He said. "And you, when he finds you here in the morning."

His head snapped up and he looked around with a confused frown. Mike gasped, recognizing the guy. He was a regular at the library, he’d been showing up almost every day since the semester started, always leaving just before closing hours. Of course he wasn’t the only student to do that, but Mike couldn’t help but notice him in particular. 

He was handsome, very handsome. Mike liked his sharp cheekbones, his grey blue eyes and his gorgeous pink lips but his favorite thing were his tight ringlet curls, always well-kempt, never one out of place. Mike would always wondered what it would be like to run his hands through them. 

He didn't even know his name, still Mike knew he had a bit of a crush on the guy. They've only talked once, when he asked Mike for help finding a book. After that, he would wave at Mike and give him a nice, sweet smile when he walked out at night and he was sitting at the front desk. Mike had been waiting for a chance to talk to him again but nothing had happened. Until now. 

"Hi." Mike said, after a few seconds where they just stared at each other. "Sorry to wake you man, but we’re closing.” He gave him an apologetic smile. 

The guy rubbed his face, creased from his nap. He was wearing a wool green sweater and he looked soft and cute. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Eleven thirty.” Mike said, checking his watch. 

“Oh.” He frowned, staring down at his things. Mike could see a lot of numbers and a calculator off to the side. So the guy was handsome and smart. “I swear I only closed my eyes for a second.”

“It happens man. You’re not the first person I’ve had to wake up.”

The guy let out a snort and started gathering up his things, carefully shoving them in his bag. "I'm lucky you saw me or I would've been really confused when I woke up to a dark, empty library."

"I don't think you would've woken up, you were sleeping like a log there." Mike said. "I had to shake you a few times."

The guy wrinkled his nose, a blush appearing on his face. "I’m a bit of a heavy sleeper, sorry about that."

Mike gave him a nice smile. "Hey, don't worry about it⎯" 

“Stan.” He offered when Mike trailed off, holding out his hand.

“I’m Mike. Nice to meet you, Stan.” Mike shook it, noticing how soft Stan's hands were.

“Nice to meet you too, Mike.”

He smiled at Stan, then realized he had held his hand for a beat too long and released it quickly. 

"I should probably go." 

"Oh! Yeah, of course. I'll let you out." Mike nodded, pointing over his shoulder. "I always lock the front door to make sure no one comes in while I clean the place and shut the lights.” 

Stan hung his bag over his shoulder, following Mike to the door. He unlocked it, holding it open for Stan and saw his face pull into a frown. 

Mike hadn't noticed before, but outside it was pouring, heavy droplets of rain splashing loudly on the concrete. It must have been going on for a while because there were large puddles of water already on the street. 

"Shit." Stan muttered, opening his bag to search for something, probably an umbrella but he came up empty handed. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

"Are you okay?"

Stan shook his head. "I can't find my umbrella, I think I left it back in my room."

"Oh."

"Yeah." 

Mike's eyes drifted towards the umbrella holder next to the door. People would sometimes leave their umbrellas behind, maybe Stan could use one of those. Unfortunately, it was empty today.

"I guess I'm going to have to make a run for it." 

"Where do you live?" 

"Windsor Hall."

Mike winced, shaking his head. "Dude, that’s on the other side of campus, by the time you get there you'll be soaked." Stan shrugged, resigned. “Look, I have an umbrella.”

"An extra umbrella?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Hm no, just mine."

Stan was shaking his head before Mike could even suggest that he could have the umbrella, which is exactly what he was about to do. "No Mike I can't take yours. How will you walk back to your own place?"

“Well, maybe we can share it.” Mike suggested after giving it some thought. “Your building is on the way to mine. We can walk together, share my umbrella.”

"Mike, I can't ask you to do that.” Stan said, blushing. “I've caused you enough trouble as it is." 

"You've caused me literally no trouble at all." Mike grinned, big and honest. "Come on Stan, I can’t let you go out like this,” He pointed outside. “Think of your poor books, man. They’ll be ruined. As someone who works at the library, I can’t let that happen.”

Stan wrinkled his nose, Mike could tell he was about to cave.

"Besides, you'll be doing me a favor too."

"How so?" Stan asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You’ll keep me company.” Mike explained easily, then winked and added, “Nothing like a handsome guy to make my walk home better." 

Stan's eyes widened, face going from pink to bright red. “Yeah, okay.”

“Awesome.” Mike said, not even trying to hide his enthusiasm. “I just have to finish closing up and we can go. Wait here.” 

He finished what he needed to do in record time, eager to go back to Stan. When he did, he found him talking on the phone. 

"Hi, Richie. Yes I'm alive, I fell asleep at the library, I'm heading back now." Stan was saying. Mike could hear a little of what the other guy⎯ Richie, said in return, mostly because the guy was extremely loud. "Yes, I know it's raining thank you for stating the obvious. Yeah, I left it there. This nice guy that works at the library is going to walk me home, he has an umbrella."

Mike smiled at being mentioned. Then, the voice from the phone got even louder and Mike could hear what Richie was saying very clearly. 

"Wait, what guy? Fuck Stan, is this the guy you've been crushing on for the whole semester?" Richie asked and Mike's eyes widened, he knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping but he couldn't help craning his neck to hear better. 

"His name is Mike." Stan said instead of denying Richie's words. The guy on the phone let out a loud squeal. 

"And you know his name! Stan the man, this is fate. You have to ask him out, you hear me? Or I'll lock you out of our room." 

Stan rolled his eyes, shifting his position and finally noticing Mike was there, he offered Stan a small wave.

Stan's eyes widened. "Richie, I have to go."

"I'm fucking serious Stanley. Do it for me, you owe me. I had to hear you talk about this guy for weeks." He slipped into a high pitched voice that was supposed to be Stan. "You should see him Richie, he's got these arms and these shoulders and oh, Richie that ass⎯"

Stan ended the call, cutting off Richie's impression. Mike tried to keep his face blank, but Stan could probably tell he'd heard all of it by the way Mike was blushing. Stan was also blushing, so much that even his ears had turned red. 

"Are you ready to go?" Mike asked and Stan nodded.

Mike tried to appear calm but on the inside he was slightly freaking out, knowing he wasn't the only one with a crush. 

They walked out and Mike opened his umbrella, covering both of them. It wasn't particularly big which meant that Stan had to press against Mike to fit under it. Luckily, neither seemed to mind the close proximity. 

At first they walked in silence but then Mike asked Stan what he'd been studying for earlier and after that, conversation flowed easily. Stan told Mike that he was studying to be an accountant, Mike told Stan that he was majoring in History. They discovered that they both liked old films and documentaries. They were both fans of the outdoor scene, Mike because he grew up on a farm and Stan because of his love for birds. Mike found the way Stan got all happy and excited when talking about birds completely endearing.

"So what made you work at the library?" Stan asked after a while. They were getting close to his building and by then, the rain had come down a bit. They could lose the umbrella and not get too wet if they wished but neither of them seemed to want that. 

"Well, I love books just as much as the next history nerd," He said and Stan chuckled, moving closer to Mike. "So being surrounded by them it's pretty cool. I also get to work on my homework during my shift, since it's quiet and I don't have to do much. There's also free wifi." 

"Very important." Stan said, nodding. 

"Yeah. Besides, I get to meet cute guys and walk them home."

"Oh, so you do this with all the guys you find sleeping in the library?" Stan asked in a teasing tone, but there was an underlying nervousness to it.

"No." Mike bit on the inside of his cheek. "Only with those I've been crushing on for months."

Stan stopped walking, staring up at Mike with wide eyes. "You've been⎯ you have a crush on me?" He asked softly, Mike nodded. "You're not just saying that because you heard my roommate on the phone before?"

"I didn't⎯" Mike started but Stan's quirked eyebrow stopped him. "Okay I heard, yeah. Your friend is really loud okay? But that's not why I said that. It's true, I've seen you in the library and I always thought you were really cute and smart because you're always studying. And organized and very very handsome."

Mike was blushing, his heart beating rapidly especially with how Stan was smiling at him. 

"I have a bit of a crush on you too." He said, biting down on his lower lip. "You're very attractive and smart. And you're always nice to people, even the assholes who speak way too loudly for a library." 

Mike smiled, stomach fluttering. "So Richie, your roommate, was right?"

"I mean," Stan paused, wrinkling his nose. "He was being way too dramatic, but yeah."

"Oh, so you don't like my arms or my shoulders or my ass?" Mike teased.

Stan blushed furiously. "Oh, shut up." He said but then he started laughing, Mike joining in. 

"Stan?" He asked when they both fell silent, Stan hummed. "Can I kiss you?"

Stan's lips twitched into a smile. "Yeah." 

Mike leaned in, closing the distance between them and pressing a short kiss against Stan's lips. He intended to leave it there, but when he tried to pull back, Stan grabbed his neck, keeping him in place and making the kiss last longer.   

They finally broke apart when they felt droplets of water falling on their face. Mike hadn't realized he'd lowered the umbrella, too preoccupied kissing Stan.

"Sorry." He said, covering them again.

"It's okay." Stan smiled. "But we should go, the rain is starting to pick up again." 

Mike nodded and they resumed their walk, Stan hooked his arm through Mike's, pressing closer. 

"You know there's a classic film festival next week." Mike said. "Would you like to go with me?"

Stan squeezed Mike's arm, smiling up at him. "Yeah I would love to, Mike."

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh​​​ @yes-dillman-yes​ @richietoaster​ ​ @beepbeeprichiellc​ ​ @its-stranger-than-you-think​ ​ @lemonaayyee​ ​ @losers-gotta-stick-together​ ​ @tinyarmedtrex​ ​ @richiefuckfacetozier​ ​ @sam-i-am2468​ ​ @richardtoz​ ​ @s-s-georgie​ ​ @reddie-for-anything​ ​ @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​ ​ @constantreaderfool​ ​ @stanleuyris​ ​ @jesuschristsupruvestar​ ​ @mirandonsky​ ​ @reddie4diaster​ @alargedepresso​ ​ @purplepoisonedgem​ ​ @pan-ini​ ​ @reddie-to-cry​​ @reddieforlove​ ​ @trashmouthnick​ ​ @multi-fandom-wby​ ​ @wheezyeds​ ​ @nancynwheeler​ ​ @reddieslashgeneralhorror​​​ @madi-personal​ ​ @reddie-tozibrak​​​ @lover-mouth​ ​ @atownofeggs​ ​ @that-weird-girls-blog​ ​ @appojoos​ ​ @castielwinovak​ ​ @a-gay-treee​​ @twoidiotsinl0ve​ ​ @fcngirltrxsh​ @spirited-marvel​ ​ (if you want to be added, let me know!)

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch34: Paper

Summary: Following the events in Siberia, Katie, Steve Wanda and Sam all struggle to adapt to a life on the run. The Roger’s first wedding anniversary isn’t spent the way Steve would have hoped, but as Fall arrives, he finallly gets the call he’d been waiting for from Wakanda.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

August 2016

Following advice from Coulson, the group of Outlaws decided to lay low for a few months until interest died down, although Katie and Sam were pretty amused to find out that there had been protests across the US after they had been declared Enemies of the State, especially when someone (no names were mentioned, but Katie was laying odds on it being Murdock to help Clint and Scott’s very publicised hearings) had leaked to the press details of what had taken place in Siberia, and how they had been treated by the Government. To her further delight, Ross was facing a public enquiry as well with regards to their unlawful arrests. 

All in all, that part of it had worked out pretty well. And whilst she knew he would get away with it, the thought of him being pissed off filled her with a very smug sense of satisfaction.

The place they were living was called the Isle of Lewis, approximately 12 miles away from Stornoway in the northern part of the inter-connected Islands in the Hebrides and the only connection to main land Scotland was either a 2 hour ferry or a flight, so with that respect it was absolutely perfect. 

The old farm house was secluded, the land surrounding it sprawling for miles, shielded by a large thicket of trees on three sides and a cliff edge which dropped down to a small beach on the other. There was no reason for anyone to visit or pass their house, bar the odd dog walker they saw treading the cliff footpath. They were always careful when seeing people to greet them politely so they didn’t attract attention by being aloof. 

The first rule of going on the run? Don’t run.

At first they strayed into town for supply runs only and Katie was surprised just how well she adapted to living with two additional people. At first she had been worried, Steve and her having had their own space for such a long time. Even in the tower and compound their living quarters had been fairly big and they could hide away from everyone if they wanted to. But in their safe house they didn’t have that luxury. Never the less it was big enough so that they could all have their own rooms. There was one bathroom upstairs and a smaller cloakroom downstairs, and so far there had been no squabbles about who used it when. 

Their large sitting area had been kitted out with a state of the art entertainment system, they had a decent sized farmhouse style Kitchen-Diner, and a smaller sitting room off the back of the kitchen with a smaller TV, a 2 seat couch and a piano much to Katie’s delight. Practical things like bills etc were coming out of an account belonging to Mr and Mrs O’Rourke, one of Katie and Steve’s covers- the name being Steve’s Mother’s maiden name. Coulson had advised them it was the least suspicious thing to do and would attract less attention than trying to pay cash at a bank. They’d also acquired a ten year old free-lander, bought for cash of course, and it was subtle enough to blend in as a lot of the locals seemed to drive them too.

But whilst everything seemed to go according to plan and was, when all was said and done, fairly easy, Steve was struggling. He was antsy from the lack of action, and from a purely carnal point of view was missing the fact he could slam his wife up against any surface he wanted to and not worry about them being caught. He hated the fact their room was right next to Sam’s, concerned with the amount of noise they might make after Bucky’s jibe about the hotel rooms and it wasn’t long before Katie noticed a dramatic shift in his attitude towards her. He became less tactile, less handsy and their love life dwindled somewhat, leaving her slightly cranky to say the least but she manged to keep a lid on it for the most part.

Unlike Steve. 

The morning of their first wedding anniversary, Katie woke alone, her husband was no-where to be found. After laying, looking at his empty side of the bed for a moment she blinked back tears of frustration and headed for a before she wandered downstairs into the kitchen to be greeted by Sam and Wanda both sat at the table.

"Steve gone for a run?" she asked, after greeting them both good morning.

"Yeah, I offered to go but he wanted to go on his own," Sam said, shrugging “Didn’t want to keep pace."

Katie poured herself a coffee and sat down, taking a deep breath. “Is everything ok?” Wanda asked, looking at Katie “You’ve both been a little tetchy recently. Granted you haven’t been as bad as him, but...” “Yeah, you guys not err…getting enough?” Sam quipped, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Wanda, the younger woman giving him a glare.

“Fuck off Wilson.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying…”

“Well don’t” she sighed, taking a sip of her coffee then swiping a piece of toast off his plate.

“Look, we know it’s your anniversary today.” Wanda looked at her. “You got anything planned?” “Not really possible.” Katie shrugged “Thought I might try and convince him to take a walk later, just the two of us but…”

“Well,” Sam said, looking at Wanda then over to Katie, “we thought we might head into town for the evening, hit a few bars. Give you two a bit of space.” Wanda nodded, eagerly. “You have to do something, even if it’s just cooking a meal and having a bit of you time.” Katie pondered this for a moment and found herself smiling “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I can go to the store later.” her spirits raised a a little as she started planning a menu out in her head.

She was cut off when the security system clicked and Steve walked through the door of the kitchen that led to the grounds, the door shutting behind him, the keypad beeping as he typed in the code to lock everything down.

“Hey.” she looked up at him. His face was tired but nevertheless he smiled and dropped a soft kiss to her head.

“Happy Anniversary.” he whispered, and she smiled up at him, understanding his gesture to also be an apology of sorts.

“Back at ya Soldier.” she swallowed back her tears, “You want breakfast?” “I’ll shower first.” he nodded to Sam and Wanda before pausing, and stealing the last piece of toast off Sam’s plate.

“Not cool man!” Sam groaned, “That was the last of the bread.” Steve simply shrugged at Sam’s protest, before he headed down the hallway to go and freshen up. Katie watched him go before she turned to Wanda.

“Fancy coming with me?”

She nodded “Sure.”

***** When Steve came back to the kitchen half an hour or so later he was surprised to find the girls gone.

“Store.” Sam supplied as he was flicking through the television in the lounge, settling on a British Chat Show called ‘This Morning’, easy, daytime TV that didn’t require thinking about. Steve made himself a coffee before he sat down next to his friend with a sigh.

“So, first anniversary.” Sam spoke, not looking at him. “Be this isn’t what you thought you’d be doing?” “You can say that again.” Steve mumbled. Just twelve months ago at that exact time he’d been bustling about his apartment on the compound in a fluster getting ready. It had, without a doubt, been the happiest day of his life.  But this was not how he wanted their first wedding anniversary to go down. He’d always planned a nice getaway, somewhere warm, but that wasn’t an option. Certainly not yet. Even though he doubted they would be recognised, his stubble was now well on it’s way to being a fairly decent beard, he didn’t want to risk it by drawing attention to them being in a busy, touristy place. 

“Me and Wanda are clearing out later.” Sam’s eyes remained on the TV, “Give you two a bit of alone time.” “You don’t have to-“ Steve started but Sam cut him off with a snort.

“You need to make some lovin’ on your girl.” he turned to the soldier who felt a flush rise up his neck. “Because we know you ain’t been getting enough, you’ve been a bad tempered bastard for weeks.”

“I have not.” Steve shot back indignantly, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows. Steve let out a sigh, knowing he was well and truly busted.

“Look, if you two ever need some space, all ya gotta do is ask.” Sam said sincerely, looking at Steve. “Couples need that time, hell my folks used to ship us off to uncles and aunties once a week just to get some time to themselves. This is bound to be stressful for you both.”

“I doubt it’s easy on you two either.” Steve looked at him and Sam shrugged, before he smirked.

“Difference is if I wanna get laid I’ll just head into town. There’ll be some sap out there that likes George Fletcher the Geologist from Georgia…”

“You’re terrible you know that?” Steve smirked at him over his coffee mug.

Sam simply smiled back. “You get her anything?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded “We agreed months ago on something paper themed, you know, on account of the anniversary being paper. I had planned to get the lyrics to our wedding song printed and do a sketch of one of our photos to hang up in our apartment but that kinda went out of the window.” “So what did you get?” “A book.” Steve let out a breath “I spotted it in the second hand shop in town last time we did a flyer. It’s a leather-bound complete works of Shakespeare but it was published the year she was born and has all these handwritten notes in it from someone. Just the kind of thing she’ll like. And a couple of albums of sheet music, I know she’s missing hers back home and she hasn’t been playing the piano as much as I thought she would…”

“Cool man, she’ll love it.” Sam smiled encouragingly “I hope so Sam.” he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, scratching at his chin “I hope so.” *****

True to their word Sam and Wanda headed out just after 5pm, leaving Katie and Steve alone. As Katie bustled around in the kitchen, Steve couldn’t help but watch his wife as she cooked, a small smile playing on his face. And then, realising they were truly alone for the first time in months he placed his beer down on the side and crossed the small room, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dropping his chin to her shoulder, nuzzling at her neck. She smiled at his display of affection, something she’d been aching for and as the scruff of his almost-beard scratched at her skin she gave a soft sigh.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he said, before he shook his head “No. Not really. Doll, I’m sorry.” “What for?” she frowned, turning in his arms so she could look at him.

“For being so distant. You don’t deserve this.” he sighed. “After the accords, when the dust settled we were supposed to have a normal life, a simple life. I can’t even give you that."

"It's a good thing you're cute because at times you’re incredibly stupid," she said making him breathe a laugh. “Steve we’re here, together after everything. I made that vow, until death do us part and I mean it. I love you" she finished simply, shrugging. “So stop wasting time worrying about it. You're stuck with me, Captain Badass."

Steve looked back at her, before he gave her a small smile.

"Now I know this probably isn’t what either of us had in mind, but we’re on our own, I’ve got a pretty large batch of Mac and Cheese, and an apple pie in the oven, a steak ready to grill so let’s just try and enjoy it?”

“You made mac and cheese?” his face creased into a boyish smile “And apple pie? What happened to not baking pies unless it’s Autumn?” “Well it’s September tomorrow.” she shrugged “and I thought it might cheer you up.”

"Sorry." He half grimaced, half smiled apologetically back at her. "I know I haven't been the easiest to be around lately ─"

"Stop apologizing." she interrupted him again.

He studied her for a second before he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. “I love you.” “I know.” she said, her hands sliding down to his chest and she gave him a quick pat before playfully shoving him away “Now scoot, unless you want me to burn dinner. Go set the table.” Knowing better than to refuse he did as he was told and it wasn’t long before they were settled down and eating. They talked about everything and anything, drank wine, and to the pair of them they could almost have been sat in their dining room at the compound. They laughed, they joked, they poked fun at one another. It felt normal. Once they had finished eating they cleared their dishes, Steve grabbed another bottle of wine and they headed to the couch to find something to watch on TV.

“I got you something.” Katie said when Steve dropped the wine onto the coffee table and she gestured to the small giftbag by the bottle.

“Oh, me too. Hang on.” he said, bounding up the stairs to retrieve his gift. As he returned, she eyed the 2 wrapped items with playful suspicion as he handed them to her. One was really heavy. She passed the gift bag containing his to him and he peeked inside, and they shared a childish grin with one another before they set about opening their presents.

“Oh Steve.” she breathed out as she gently ran her hands over the leather of the anthology he had bought her. Flicking through she spotted all the notes that someone had written in the margins. They consisted of opinions on the plays, themes, characterisation plots, all the type of thing she had studied at University and she found it fascinating to read other people’s interpretations.

“I thought you might like it.” he smiled as she beamed at him, before she let out another sigh of happiness when she opened the two sheet music books as they would give her something else to play other than the stuff she knew from memory.

And her gift to Steve was equally as thoughtful. He positively beamed when he opened the new blank sketch books, pencils, wax crayons and charcoals. All of his art supplies had been left behind and he’d been dying to get some more.

“Well, the sketchbook is paper.” she explained softly “And I know it relaxes you to draw.” “Doll, it’s perfect” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

“So, what film do you wanna watch?” She asked, moving for the remote but he had no intention of watching a film. Not now. He had other ideas. He gently grabbed her wrist and she looked at him.

“Right now Mrs Rogers,” he said, turning to her and her eyes widened when she saw his pupils dilating with unmistakable desire, “I’d really like to carry you upstairs and take you to bed.”

Katie grinned “Well that can be arranged, but there’s something I wanna do first.”

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment but when she tapped on her phone and the opening sounds of ‘Only One in Colour’ sounded over the speakers he laughed and stood up, offering her his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he quipped, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Always.” she smiled, allowing him to pull her up.

They moved to the back of the couch where there was more room and he took her in a hold and they simply stayed close, swaying to the music, both of them thinking back to their first dance as a married couple twelve months ago. Katie pressed her cheek to Steve’s chest and he in turn rest his chin on the top of her head, revelling in her closeness. He heard her let out a soft sigh, but this one was contentment and he gently moved to look down at her. For a moment Katie felt her breath catch, he was looking at her with nothing but unadulterated desire and love, the same way he had on their wedding day and before the song had even finished he’d captured her lips in a soft kiss, his hands moving to cradle her face. Hers fisted in his white T-shirt and it wasn’t long before the kiss had deepened causing a moan to catch in Steve’s throat. Without a word he pulled back and scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, causing her to giggle, a sound he would never tire of, and quick as a flash he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He set her on her feet but before he had time to do anything she’d shoved him backwards, catching him off guard slightly causing him to sit down harshly on the bed and he let out a smirk as she straddled him before she kissed him again and he was happy to reciprocate exactly how he knew she liked, firm and gentle, passionate and caring all at once. Katie gently bit his lower lip drawing another groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his hands gently gipping her hip.

“You know,” she said drawing back slightly to cup his face in her fingertips “I really do like kissing you with this.” she traced her hand across the short beard on his face. She also liked looking at him with it too because, coupled with the fact his hair was also getting slightly longer too it gave him a rugged, harder, rougher look taking him farther and farther away from the Blue-Eyed all American boy day by day.

"I’m getting used to it.” he murmured pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before his head dropped, small kisses trailing up the length of her neck, that precious stubble creating an amazing contrast to the softness of his mouth.

“Yeah, me too.” she said, her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. He smiled slightly, happy to oblige and just take his god damned time loving his wife. Eventually his lips made their way up her jaw and then she sat up slightly, grasping at the hem of his T-shirt. He moved to allow her to take it off and then his fingers made short work of the sleeveless button down she had been wearing, shrugging it down over her shoulders before he peppered more kisses across her collar bone and down her sternum as he reached round to undo her bra. Gently, he lay her flat down on the bed, taking a nipple in his mouth, this time drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily upwards at the sensations spiking through her body.

God it really had been far too long since he’d lavished attention on her like this and Steve made a mental not to tell Sam and Wanda to ‘take a walk’ a lot more often. It was almost two months now since they had last been intimate and, his body was aching for her, desperate to feel her and from the noises she was making she felt the same. His lips made their way down, nose and beard skimming along the waistband of her jeans before he undid them, sliding them down with her underwear as he shed his own too before he crawled back over her.

Katie pushed on his shoulders slightly so she could roll him over and placed herself on top of him, brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other drawing a gentle moan from his lips, hands flexing on her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down him, her hands falling to his chest and once he was fully seated in her, she began to work him gently. His hands slid up into her hair, as she leaned forward to kiss him and he raised his hips slightly and she whimpered, pushing down harder against him as his hands gently kneaded at her breasts. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every push she made, his eyes grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her down, grinding further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands round her back, pulling her closer to him as he bent to kiss her neck, biting at that spot whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Katie rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, and he let out a groan of his own.

“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, as he pulled her to him harder, hands back on her hips as his rutting picked up speed.

“Stevie…” she mumbled, her eyes locking onto his as her hands slid up his back and fisted into his hair. A few more pushes later and they were both done for, her name escaping from his lips as her walls collapsed completely, and she let out a soft cry as she fell forward burying her face in his neck. He was close behind, letting out a gentle moan, his beard rustling against her ear as he jerked underneath her, clinging onto her as if he never wanted to let her go. And at that moment he didn’t.

After a minute or so he leaned back, his breathing deep as he brushed her hair back off her face before sliding his nose against hers. “Happy Anniversary kitten.” *******

Steve thought the fall in New York was gorgeous but that was nothing to what it was like where they were. He was feeling a lot more positive about things as well, as post their anniversary, he and Katie had made a pact that they would do  something alone together at least once a week, be it a walk along the cliff the beach, or straying into town to one of the local restaurants. His hair and beard now rendered him pretty much unrecognisable now and they never got a second glance at all. 

Being on the run shouldn’t have been this easy, and they were constantly on edge, waiting for the time they had to split and run, but whilst they could, they made the most of it. 

Steve’s favourite ‘date’, if you could them that, was the walk they took in the pitch black to see the Northern Lights late one evening. Katie had been utterly captivated by the beauty of the Aurora Borealis and Steve had to admit, it was spectacular. Committing it to memory was easy, and a few days later Katie wasn’t surprised to find a perfect replica of them his sketch book.

Thanksgiving came, then Christmas, the four friends making it as festive as possible. They got a tree, shared gifts, enjoyed a Christmas Meal, and after several drinks each Steve wheeled the piano into the living room where Sam and Katie gave a rousing rendition of ‘Fairy Tale of New York’ along with a few other Christmas songs. It was different, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

And then, in March 2017, they had a call from T’Challa. They were ready to bring Bucky out of cryo. Katie and Steve instantly set about making the arrangements to go to Wakanda, but it turns out they weren’t the only ones planning on taking a little trip…

“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you all.” Wanda said, the morning they were due to depart. “Please don't freak out, but I talked to Vision last night."

"What?" Katie’s voice was quiet as she merely looked back at the younger woman, her face passive.

Meanwhile, both Steve and Sam's eyebrows shot up in their foreheads.

"Hold on, what do you mean you talked to Vision?” Steve asked. “How? Where?"

"This is going to sound really weird, but I saw him in my dreams," Wanda carried on with her explanation.

"How do you know that wasn't just a dream?" Sam asked.

"Because it wasn't," Wanda shrugged "I don't know how to explain it, but I know it was him and I know it was real. I think we are connected somehow, because of the Mind Stone and because I was thinking about him before I went to sleep, it made some kind of telepathy possible.”

Steve pondered it for a second, thinking to himself how ridiculous that sounded until he realised they were talking about an enhanced human who had gained certain telepathic and telekinetic powers due to experimentation with the Mind Stone and an android that now carried within his synthetic, vibranium-mesh body said gem. 

When you put it like that it seemed fairly logical.

"Okay. What did you talk about?" Katie asked after a moment.

"Just stuff, how I was, how much we, you know, miss one another" Wanda bit her lip. "We talked about actually meeting in person in a few days."

"Okay, hold on," Sam said, furrowing his forehead and holding one of his hands up. "How do we know this is not a trap? Like, I don't know, Tony getting Vision to talk to you to get us back into the Raft?"

As soon as Sam said it Katie shook her head. Tony could sometimes be a jackass and he may have been hurt and mad at her and Steve, but she knew despite his stinging barb in Siberia, he wouldn’t want them all thrown in jail.

"He wouldn't do that," she said.

“How do you know?” Sam pressed.

“Because Tony has way better tech than us, and there's no accounting for what Vision can do with that Mind Stone.” Steve looked at him. This was something he had been pondering on for a while now too “If anyone can find us, it's them, yet we’re almost 10 months down the line now since Leipzig and so far, there's no sign of any one, so Tony’s either no longer working with Ross, or if he is, he's dragging his feet deliberately.”

"Exactly," Wanda nodded emphatically. "And Vision would never do anything to hurt me, not intentionally. I trust him with my life, but it's more than that."

Taking a deep breath, his mind made up, Steve turned to Wanda “You’re not a prisoner here Wanda. If you want to go then we can’t and we won’t stop you.”

“Do you want to go?” Katie looked at the younger woman who was wringing her hands together.

“I do but, well, I kinda feel like I’m fraternizing with the enemy.”

“He’s not the enemy. None of them are. Not Vision or Rhodey, Not Tony, none of them.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the long strands back off his face. “We all wanted the same thing, to do good in this world but we disagreed on how best to make it happen. Doesn’t make us enemies.”

“But we’re on the run because…”

“This was always going to happen.” Katie cut her off, shaking her head “Ever since SHIELD collapsed and Fury stepped away there was a power vacuum. It was only a matter of time before the Government tried to step in to oversee us.”

“And let’s face it, I was always going to be considered a rogue threat the moment I refused to comply” Steve said, a wry smile on his face. “We all were.”

“Just be careful.” Katie looked at Wanda. “And whilst we’re away just make sure you check in once in a while? And the first sign of trouble, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Well if Wanda’s being granted shore leave so to speak, I might take a bit of time too.” Sam chipped in as the idea came to him. “There’s an old RAF pal of mine, based in Bracknell near London I aint seen in a while. He’s cool,” he anticipated the next question, “I saved his life on a mission so he won’t sell me out.” Steve took a deep breath and then shrugged “You know the risks, Sam. If any of us get caught then…” “Back to the Pokey.” Sam shrugged “Yeah, I got it. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t rat your location out.”

“Me neither.” Wanda added. 

“I suppose, to be fair,” Katie bit her lip, “we’ve been here for a long time now. It won’t harm us to disappear for a while, regroup in a few weeks. And we’ll draw even less attention apart as they won’t be expecting it.” And so, for the first time in 10 months, the four went their separate ways. ****** True to his word Steve was there when they woke Bucky up. Once he had come round the two greeted one another with the same love and affection they always did. Suri’s scans showed that the programming was no longer present in Bucky’s brain, but there was one last thing they had to do to make sure.

Say the trigger words.

Which was why Katie, Steve, a one armed Bucky and T’Challa were now heading to the underground fort of the palace. Steve in his combat suit, Katie in her cat suit clutching a rifle and T’Challa in his black panther garb, two members of his Kings Guard guard following behind.

As they were about to enter the underground cell, Bucky grabbed Katie’s arm and pulled her to one side.

“What the hell Bucky?” she almost yelped, and he let go of her arm and held his finger to his lips.

“Listen, Doll, I got a favour to ask. If this hasn’t worked…” he took a deep breath “I want you to end it.”

“End what?”  she arched an eyebrow at him. “Me.” he said simply “Steve’s said you’re a good shot. I want you to put a bullet in my head.” Katie looked at him, and then burst out laughing “Whatever.” “I’m being deadly serious.” he looked at her. “I can’t and I don’t want to live like that anymore.” he shook his head sadly “I’d rather die that know that what they’ve done is still in there.” “Bucky,” she frowned, “you’d be safe here, you know that, no one would trigger you.” “No, we don’t know that.” he said earnestly, “Please Katie, I’m begging you. You owe me, remember?” “So you save my life and you want me to take yours?” “Yeah.” he nodded, “Pretty much.”

“You’re an asshole James Buchanan Barnes” she hissed, glaring at him before shooting a glance over his shoulder at where Steve was stood, talking to T’Challa. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t.”

“Listen, I’m asking you because I trust you to do it.” he said, looking over his shoulder to where she had been watching Steve. He was now stood observing the pair of them and they both smiled at him. Katie took a deep breath, looking into Bucky’s steel blue eyes and gave a sigh. She knew how hard this was on him and she could fully understand where he was coming from but still, asking her to do it, especially when she knew Steve would be besides himself made her feel sick.

“I’ve written Steve a letter.” Bucky said quickly, as the Super Soldier was now making his way over. “It explains what I’ve asked you to do. So please, give me your word.”

She looked at him, swallowing, and gave him a small nod before her eyes flicked to Steve as he approached, a frown on his face.

“You two alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, Katie was just asking me how I was really feeling.” Bucky looked at his friend.

Katie shrugged and smiled at Steve in what she hoped as a convincing way “Wanted to make sure he was alright, that’s all.”

Steve studied her for a moment, and she smiled again before he turned to Bucky. “It’s gonna be ok.” Steve assured his friend, clapping him on his shoulder, shooting another glance at his wife who was nervously chewing her lip. He frowned again, but pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind and then nodded. “Come on.” “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Bucky mumbled.

Steve and T’Challa stepped into the room which was sealed whilst Katie took up her position on the other side of the one way glass with Suri who pressed the microphone to talk into the room.

““I don’t know why you are all worrying, brother, it is like you do not trust me…” the young woman scoffed. “Take no chances Sister.” T’Challa shot back. “You know this”.

Suri made a noise in her throat and then spoke again “Ok, I’m ready when you are.” She held the red book in her hand that they had recovered from Zumo. T’Challa engaged his helmet whilst Steve stood stoic as ever, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the glass he knew his wife was stood at the other side of.

“Ready Buck?” he asked turning back. His friend nodded, taking a deep breath.

T’Challa signalled to Suri who, after a little hesitation, began to read, each word punctuated by a pause.

"Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace…”

Katie watched intently and saw Bucky was clenching his teeth and suddenly she started to get a little bit nervous. She wasn’t the only one that had spotted it either. Steve moved slightly, adopting a little more of a battle stance than he had been as he clocked his friends reaction.

“ Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car"

The last words hit Steve like a truck. It was depraved that Hydra would use those words. Bucky had plunged from a train car to his supposed death. There was no randomness to that at all, unlike the seemingly obscure nature of the rest of the words, nor was it any accident it was the last trigger they would use. There were the final words because they signified the death of Bucky and the birth of the killer Winter Soldier.

Sick bastards.

Bucky’s chest was heaving, his fist was clenching, and for a split second Steve feared the worse. But when his friend looked up, he saw the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes looking back at him, and not the icy glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Buck?” he asked gently, his voice cracking slightly. Bucky looked at him, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Nothing.” he said, and Katie let out a soft sigh of relief, her hands sliding down her face to cover her mouth. “Nothing.”

T’Challa threw a party of sorts that night which consisted of a bar crawl through the city. Katie and Bucky dubbed it a “Fuck Hydra” party much to Steve’s chagrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, as at the end of the day, if anyone had as much right to stick their middle fingers up to Hydra it was them. There was still something troubling him though, so when T’Challa left the bar they were sat at for a few moments, he turned to Bucky and asked him outright what had been going on with him and Katie outside the cell before. Bucky hesitated before he hung his head slightly and peered up at Steve from where he was sat next to him, a tumbler of some kind of Wakandan alcohol in his hand.

“I asked her to kill me.” Bucky admitted, swilling the liquid round in the glass “If it hadn’t worked I asked her to put a bullet in my head. She didn’t want to but I told her she owed me.” Steve felt himself blanche “You did what?” “You don’t know what it’s like.” Bucky shook his head “Living with the fact that at any time someone could mutter a string of words and…” he shot back the alcohol and slid his empty glass back to the Bar Tender to top up. “I didn’t want to live like.”

”You put that on her?” Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, “Damnit Buck, you should have asked me!”

“Would you have done it?” Bucky countered, Steve took a big sigh, knowing he was caught “Exactly.” Bucky scoffed “And besides, you’re the one that said she was a dead shot.”

Bucky eyed his friend for a while before he slid his empty glass to the man behind the bar, gesturing for another top up. “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now because here I am.” he smirked

Steve nodded and reached over his glass, smiling “Yeah, here you are.” T’Challa chose that point to come back and he settled at the bar next to Steve.

“So, Sergeant Barnes, we’ll have to see about getting you some permanent lodgings.” he smiled “Maybe a private hut. There is a quiet tribe, not far from the river, unless you would prefer a post in my Kings Guard.” “I’m done fighting” Bucky shook his head as he took another drink from his glass. “Certainly for the time being anyway. A hut sounds mighty fine. Maybe I can get some goats.” “Goats?” Steve looked at him.

“I like Goats.” Bucky shrugged “Do you remember the one in the petting zoo near School?” “Yeah, it set my asthma off” Steve snorted before the pair of them descended into laughter.

Across the bar Katie was stood with Suri and one of T’Challa’s personal guards, Okoye. She instantly warmed to Okoye, the woman reminding her a lot of Natasha. They stood chatting for a while before a loud roll of laughter caught their attention and they turned to see T’Challa, Bucky and Steve howling at something, as T’Challa gestured for the bar tender to top up their glasses whilst Okoye excused herself to head over to speak to her husband. 

“Oh they’ve broken out the Wakandan Spice” Suri muttered, eyeing up the men.

“What’s that?” Katie asked.

“The only thing that gets my brother drunk!” she snorted “That stuff could knock out a rhino.”

“So it should have an effect on Super Soldiers?” Katie grinned. Drunk Steve was one of her favourite Steves.

“Let’s go find out!” Suri nodded, a cheeky grin on her face. They made their way over and Katie could see instantly the woman was right. Steve had a glazed look in his eyes and Bucky was leaning back in his chair, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Hey beautiful” Steve smiled up at Katie, pulling her into his lap, his hand trailed up and down her spine, lazily. "Where you been all evening?”

“About 10 meters away over there.” she smirked, pointing. Suri was reaching over to steal a bit of the liquor from Bucky’s glass and T’Challa slapped her hand. “You are not even old enough to drink.” he glared at her.

“Tssk hush brother. Just because you are now well into your 30s. You always seem to be so bitter about me being much younger than you.” At that Bucky barked out a laugh.

“Don’t know what you’re snorting at old man.” Katie glanced at him and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not exactly a comment I'd expect from someone who’s married to a 100-year-old man."

"98” Steve corrected.

Katie leaned back in her husband's lap to peer at him, her right hand running through his hair. "Doesn't look a day over twenty nine," she grinned.

“Hey brother, why doesn’t your power stop your ageing?”  Suri quipped.

“Shut up.” T’Challa said. “Before I carry you back to the palace”

As the two siblings began to quibble, Katie glanced at Steve. “Been talking about the good old days?” “In a fashion.” Steve smirked.

“Anymore good tales of your misspent youth to tell me?” Bucky shook his head. “Sure Steve’s told you enough already.”

"I never told her about the time you set up a double date for us and then forgot to show up." Steve looked at him, his arms tightening around his wife.

"That never happened." Bucky shook his head.

"It absolutely happened. Caroline O’Hara and Deborah Smith"  

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, yeah. Brunette and a red head. A curly red head.” he grinned.

“Yup. Double date to the theatre, only you never showed up.” Steve looked at him, accusingly “And little old me was left to explain to Debbie why you had stood her up."

Bucky smirked into his glass.

"I thought she was gonna kill me," Steve mused, turning to look at Katie. “She kept hitting me with her purse. And then Caroline started, asking where the hell he was and why he thought it fit to stand up her best friend and fix her up with some kind of joke.”

Katie frowned, narrowing her eyes. "You weren’t a joke."

"Thanks baby." he grinned before he turned to fix Bucky with a glare “And do you remember why you didn’t show up?” Bucky was now shaking with mirth, as he looked at Steve, his eyes bright with tears of laughter “Go on, tell her Buck.”

"I was with Maggie Dougherty.” he smirked

“Yeah, you were.” Steve pointed at him, “That was the night you got caught sneaking out of her room and down her fire escape by her dad who beat the crap out of you.”

“Worth it though.” Bucky snorted “She was hot. Brunette waves, pretty face, nice ass.” “Yeah.” Steve nodded and Katie slapped the back of his head.

“Oww!” he looked at her as she glared at him. Grinning he reached up to give her a soft kiss “Not a patch on you though, pretty girl..”

After another hour or so Katie left them to it, heading back to the palace with Suri. She’d had enough, the alcohol she had drunk had lulled her into that happy place here she felt warm and fuzzy inside, and ready for bed.

Unfortunately, Steve woke her up when he came crashing into the room a few hours later.

“Shit.” he mumbled, as he banged into the chair by the dresser. “Shhhh” he said, to no one but himself. He staggered over to the bed before face planting straight down.

Katie grinned as he peeked up at her.

“I’m drunk.” he told her, because he had to explain or she wouldn’t know, right?

“No shit Sherlock.” she giggled and scrambled out of the duvet “Ok Captain Badass, let’s get you in bed.” “Promises, promises.” he said wriggling his eyebrow, eyeing her up and down as she leaned over, flashing him a glimpse down the top she was wearing to bed.

“Yeah, not a chance pal. I doubt very much you’d be of any use in this state.”

“Hey.” he pouted rolling over so he was on his back, watching her as she climbed over the bed “Why are you not wearing one of my T’shirts?”

“I dunno.” she said, dropping to the floor to take off his suede boots. “Just put this on.”

“I like you in my shirts.I like you better out of them.” he grinned, grabbing hold of her as she stood up.

“How much have you had?” she laughed as he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling  into her neck.

“Enuff.” he spoke back, voice muffled. “You know you’re the prettiest gal in the whole world?” He peeked up at her and she had to laugh as she ruffled his hair. 

“Arms up.”

“I like it when you undress me” he grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

Eventually she managed to tug off his shirt and his jeans whilst he made some other reference to sex, before he pulled her back down onto the bed next to him, giggling like a school kid.

“Bucky told me.” He slurred.

“Told you what?”

“That he asked you to shoot him.” Steve hiccupped “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

Katie chuckled to herself “Me too baby.” “And now he’s all better.” Steve sighed, “Good isn’t it?” “It’s awesome.” she smiled, reaching up to bush his hair off his face. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.” He responded with shrug. “I do love you. So much.”

“I know and I love you too.” she said, “Now you gonna get into bed?”

He pushed himself up before beginning a monumental fight with the duvet to get underneath it, the whole thing a great source of amusement to Katie. She’d seen him tipsy from the Asgardian stuff Thor gave him before, but not flat out shit faced like this.

“Are you gonna puke?” she asked, stroking his head as he sighed, nuzzling into his pillow. 

“No.” he said, shaking his head. Then a pause before he hiccupped slightly “But I think I need water.” “Alright, wait there.” Katie climbed out of bed. She grabbed him a bottle from the mini fridge near the door but by the time she had turned back, Steve had his face buried into his pillow and made nothing more than a noise when she offered it to him, not looking up. Deciding she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him, she gently placed the bottle on the night stand next to him, and ran her hand through his hair one more time before she crossed to her side of the bed and settled down with him.

“Night soldier.” she said softly, kissing his cheek.

“Night princess.” he slurred into his pillow.

Tags

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings16​

@angelofhell-666

@thewackywriter

@marvelfansworld

@cobalt-gear

[findmeinpops]

FindMeInPops’ 12 Days of Ficmas: Day Six - A Cynic’s Christmas (Part One of Two)

Part Two is here.

It’s that time of year again where I try to pump out a drabble or one-shot for each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas! I have a couple already written but some of them will be written by prompt and on request - I have a prompt list that I’ll reblog now, if you want to take a look - so bare with for any editing errors! Enjoy, my loves, and have a happy festive season :)

And quick note, if anyone prefers AO3, the link to my 2019 12 Days of Ficmas collection is here. x

Prompts:

No. 40 - “Wait, you’re not going home for Christmas?”

No. 13 - Person A hates Christmas because they’ve never had a good one. So Person B goes all out to make this the best Christmas for them.

Ship(s): totally platonic Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Rating: T (for swearing, please correct me if I’m wrong)

CW(s): cynicism, making light of deceased family, alcohol, swearing

Reindeer Games: Blitzen - Holidays

A/N: this is going to be a two-parter, folks. It’s going to be a long-un’ and I had not a lot of time to write both parts before this went out. Enjoy x

Y/N sighed, flopping back onto her bed, hands spread wide over her head in despair. Her mother had asked, no, demanded that she come ‘home’ for Christmas like she had done every year for the three years she had been at university. And, like every year, Y/N truly did not want to go but did not have a worthy excuse to give her mother for why she had to stay in the apartment she and Sweet Pea rented near her university campus.

“Just don’t go.” Sweet Pea told her, sat on top of her desk despite there being a perfectly good chair not even one metre away. “You don’t want to go, you never want to go, but you force yourself to go for no other reason than to torture yourself. Just don’t go.” He shrugged, switching his phone off and instead choosing to watch Y/N argue with herself for the tenth time that day, just this time she was surrounded by piles of clothes.

“My mother forces me.” She corrected before releasing another over-dramatic sigh, if only it were as simple as Sweet Pea made it seem.

“Your mother doesn’t force you, she’s not even in the country. What’s she going to do? Fly over here and drag you back to California by your ear?”

“Please, my mother coming to England?” Y/N sat up, knocking a pile of dresses onto the floor. “She would not risk the weather, especially not in December.” She dramatically emphasised ‘December’ - a winter in England was considered the devil by Y/N’s mother. God forbid the temperature gets below ten degrees.

“She’s English.” He stated with his signature emotionless tone and expression.

It had taken a month after he moved in for Y/N to get Sweet Pea to show anything that nearly resembled a smile. Now he did not hold back his emotions much when he was just around her, when they were in public was a different matter, but Y/N learned that emotionless was just his default expression. Just like her default expression was a friendly, approachable smile.

“She is but she took one step into California and never looked back.” Y/N stood up, beginning to pace through the center of the room. “Literally, she had all of her stuff shipped over before the end of the first week.”

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“The floor’s wooden.” Y/N stopped in front of him, an eyebrow raised.

“It got you to stand still didn’t it?” He jibed, raising an eyebrow back.

“Oh shut up.” She began to pace again, her hands clasped and her fingers worrying one another.

“Would you please stop?” Exasperation began to leak into his tone with maybe just a hint of genuine concern.

“I do not want to go. I hate her. I love her but I hate her. I do not want to spend Christmas with her. Y’know,” she stopped again, hands still clasped, “she will expect me to move there by the end of the two weeks. She will be surprised if she does not find my boxes at her front door by the second of January, taking into account holiday shipping delays of course. Y’know...” and she began to pace again.

Having enough of her meltdown, Sweet Pea pushed himself off of the desk, striding over to Y/N and grasping her by the tops of her arms.

“For the love of God, stay fucking still!” He exclaimed, releasing her arms but fixing her with a pointed glare. “I’ve told you so many times, just stay here. We can just get pissed and watch telly.”

“Wait, you’re not going home for Christmas?”

“All my family are dead.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Sweet Pea always went for shock value, loving to watch the way people squirmed when he emotionlessly announced that his entire family was dead without warning, and it worked for the first three times with Y/N - she wasn’t a sociopath after all. But after two and a half years of living in close proximity with Sweet Pea, she was now completely desensitised to his antics.

“I know that but what about your friends? Or just having Christmas in your hometown?”

“My friends all hate me and my hometown is a dump.” He countered, taking a few steps back before lifting himself onto the desk again - she had given up on reprimanding him for it a while ago.

“Well I know that’s not true,” she paused, “the first bit anyway - goddamn Riverdale is falling apart.” Y/N had visited with him once and, after seeing the photos of how the town used to look, was horrified at how it had been left to run itself into the ground. The local diner was the most heartbreaking, now empty and ripped apart. The trailer park on the outskirts, where Sweet Pea had lived, was one of the only parts still standing, the gang he was born into going strong but simply did not have the funds to rebuild the town to its former glory. Unbeknownst to Sweet Pea, Y/N had every intention of donating a hefty sum of money in a few months when her trust fund finally came through.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’m happy to stay here. Christmas is an awful time where companies milk the world dry, the rich thrive, the poor are miserable and everybody pretends to enjoy themselves whilst Uncle Sam gets completely drunk and vomits all over the Christmas turkey.”

“Well,” Y/N started, used to Sweet Pea’s eternal cynicism, “the rich do that all the time, not just at Christmas, we can try our best to save the world but Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you shouldn’t let that stop you from having an awesome Christmas.” Then she gave him a pointed look. “Plus, you don’t have an Uncle Sam because, as you love to remind everyone, he’s dead.”

‘Touche’ was all that Sweet Pea offered in return, allowing his legs to swing slightly over the edge of the desk.

“So what are you actually doing for Christmas?” Y/N persisted. “Are any of your friends staying back? Can you celebrate with them?”

“I don’t have any friends.”

“You have me.”

“And you’re going back to England.”

Y/N sighed. When Sweet Pea was in one of these moods, getting answers was like trying to get blood from a stone, and he was usually determined to force her into his negative view of the world. Most of the time he would be somewhat of a pessimist, particularly in front of strangers but, as with the expressionless facade, the constant pessimism and cynicism faded somewhat as the pair established a friendship. However, when he was in one of these moods, he would argue black was white and that the world was evil and everyone should die, just to watch you get frustrated.

“Are you seriously not doing anything for Christmas? I can stay, if you want?” She offered.

“If you really don’t want to go, then don’t go, she can’t force you, but don't stay for me. Christmas sucks, it has always sucked and it always will, there’s nothing that can be done about it.” He stated matter-of-factly, shrugging again.

“You hate Christmas?” Y/N asked dumbfounded. She guessed she should have known this already, what with his shitty childhood, she could understand the reasoning but to hear him actually say it seemed to shock her. She herself was an avid Christmas fan, to be best friends with an anti-Christmasser was a bizarre concept.

On the first of December, Y/N had gone to the local Christmas tree farm and bought a six-foot tree to sit in the apartment entranceway. She knew she wasn’t going to spend Christmas in the country but she needed her home to have some element of festiveness, even if she would not be here on the actual day to appreciate it. Sweet Pea had persuaded her not to decorate the entire house as ‘what’s the point in spending so much on decorations when you won’t fucking be here’.

What he had not yet grasped though, is Y/N had too much money; she was one of the lucky ones, or unlucky, depending on how you see it. She came from a long-line of rich, white, upper-classmen and so when her mother gave her a £2500 weekly allowance, on top of paying for necessities and the upkeep of their apartment, she would not struggle to afford to deck out the whole place as she wanted. Half of the allowance already went to local charities but anymore than that and her mother began to ask questions. Her mother looked down on the poor, or anyone who could not afford to have a solid gold toilet; she was a horrible person with no empathy and it was for that reason that Y/N did not want to spend her festive period at her estate in California.

“Yes, I hate Christmas.” He stated. “For all of the reasons I just told you.”

“I’m staying.” She decided.

“Okay.”

“I’m staying and you are going to have the best Christmas ever.” She crossed her arms defiantly whilst her mind was already organising a list of everything she needed to do and get to make this the greatest experience for Sweet Pea. It was the afternoon of the twenty-third, but with her expertise, she was fairly certain she could get it done.

“No, Y/N, plea-” Sweet Pea tried to protest but was already half-defeated.

Anyone who knew Y/N knew that she was a force to be reckoned with once she had her mind set. It would take gale force winds or perhaps the apocalypse to stop her.

The idea was kind of sweet, Sweet Pea supposed, but involved far too much time and money being spent for only his benefit. Plus, he knew how her mother was and she would more than disapprove of her daughter spending so much for no true reason.

“Sorry, I can’t seem to hear you.” Y/N exclaimed as she ran from the room to where her handbag sat on a table beside the tree in the hallway.

“Y/N!” He called, following swiftly after her.

“Still can’t quite hear you!” She cried, pulling open the front door before stopping and turning to shout back to Sweet Pea. “I’m heading out for a while, don’t wait up!” And with that, she was out the door, shutting it with a slam, leaving a very confused Sweet Pea in her wake.

[rjzimmerman]

Let’s focus on one very relevant example of how we are wasting our groundwater. Construction has begun or will soon begin to construct trump’s stupid wall through Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument along the Arizona-Mexico border. Making the concrete necessary to construct the wall through the Monument will require the use of 15 million gallons of groundwater and the probable depletion of the Quitobaquito Spring, which supports the Sonoran Desert ecosystem within and surrounding the Monument. For a stupid fucking wall, we are going to suck out 15 million gallons of desert water.

Or let���s focus on fracking. According to the United States Geological Survey, Water use per fracking well can be anywhere from about 1.5 million gallons to about 16 million gallons. According to the Energy Information Administration, hydraulically fractured horizontal wells accounted for 69% of all oil and natural gas wells drilled in the United States and 83% of the total linear footage drilled. Estimates of the number of wells in the US range from 1.7 million up. Do the math and be shocked at the amount of water, mostly groundwater, used in fracking.

Excerpt from this Bloomberg story:

Another slow-motion, man-made environmental disaster has been discovered, and it’s underneath your feet.

About 70% of the water pumped out of underground aquifers worldwide is used for agriculture while much of the remainder quenches the thirst of cities. As industrial development spreads at a speedy clip, the rate at which those critical reservoirs are emptied is far outpacing the rate at which they are naturally replenished.

But as with the climate crisis, there are plenty of disastrous side-effects on the road to a water catastrophe. A new study released Wednesday says that diminishing groundwater is causing the level of streams and rivers to fall as well. Like the shrinking aquifers, surface water is critical to farms, towns and cities for everything from food to trade to energy production.

With water systems all over the planet already strained by global warming and overuse, this new discovery poses an additional threat.

Watersheds are regions where a set of streams and rivers fed by rain and snow-melt all flow into a common, larger body of water. They include the groundwater underneath. By 2050, more than half of watersheds where groundwater is pumped out may see river flow drop, according to the study, published in the journal Nature.

In watersheds such as California’s Central Valley, the Midwestern U.S.’s high plains, the Upper Ganges and the Indus in South Asia, groundwater is already being depleted. And while 2019 saw record flooding across the central U.S., the study uses data that go back as far as 1960, and projects groundwater-pumping impacts to 2100.

The authors of the study, from universities in the Netherlands, Germany, Canada and the U.S., say their results “reveal the current and future environmental legacy of groundwater use.” The research is novel for its focus on the effects of pumping water out of the ground on the rest of the watershed. They define the threshold as diminished stream-flow for at least three separate months, two years in a row—or the point at which the flow can’t keep animals and plants in an ecosystem alive.

That threshold has already been eclipsed in as much as 21 percent of watersheds where pumping is common (about half of watersheds overall). Areas already in trouble, like those in the U.S. and India, belong to hotter climates that rely on groundwater for irrigation because rivers don’t supply sufficient volume. In America, the affected watersheds are also home to much of the nation’s agriculture production, a prime culprit in the drop in groundwater. 

Scientists found that even limited groundwater pumping can have outsize effects on rivers, lakes and wetlands. This map shows how much water needs to be pumped around the world for surface water to be affected.SOURCE:  "Environmental flow limits to global groundwater pumping." Nature.

[brianjpatterson]

SPOTLIGHT: “THE BIG LEAP” (Reaching the Next Level in Your Journey as a Performer)

If you’re just joining Spotlight, then I’d like to welcome you to my personal journal of my personal journey as a performer. It’s a kind of way for me to look back on all of my experiences, and lessons I’ve learned, while simultaneously sharing what I’ve learned with you. Disclaimer: The word PERSONAL was utilized twice in the first sentence. Therefore, this is not the gospel or the truth, it’s just me sharing MY experiences in an effort to assist, if possible, in other people’s discovery toward climbing the ladder toward their own version of artistic success (end disclaimer). Today, I’m going to continue my detour past part (Part 5) of my observation of the Industry’s Corporate Structure (AGAIN), to touch briefly upon a concept that I live by in “Brian’s B’s” (Being aka Awareness, Business, and Behavior aka Conduct), of my A+B=C method. It is the concept and idea of how to make things practically tangible for others. When you make something tangible for someone, it becomes easily accessible to them. And if you can make it easily accessible in a brief way…even better! SIDE NOTE: If you are reading this blog for the first time, here’s a brief over view of my A+B=C method. A stands for the Abstract; It’s your dream and what you desire. C is the Completion or end result to the equation. It’s that Concrete product you have Concocted. However, B is the thing that doesn’t get much attention, and it is the most vital portion of the equation; It is your Being, your Behavior, and your Business. All the things that YOU actually DO to mix with the A and make the C happen! That is the basic overview of my system. Today, I’m going to focus briefly on the being side. Cultivating awareness is the most important part of ‘Being”. Knowing who you are, means knowing how you show up in every day life in different situations. Today, I’m going to break down five simple questions you can ask yourself when you are feeling stuck at a particular level.

This particular story begins earlier this year just after the events of “What Would Wonder Woman Do about Depression - part two”. If you haven’t read it, then let me give you the truncated version. Basically, my entire life had fallen apart and I lost everything. I barely had a few dollars to my name, everything was in storage, and I was living with my brother from another mother Louis Trenta. Keep in mind that my agency had closed and the theatre where I was employed wasn’t hiring. In effect, I had absolutely no income whatsoever. I didn’t know what else to do, so I looked into doing extra work. I hadn’t done any extra work in nearly 20 years, and it wasn’t necessary for me to do any over the last decade, because all of my acting-based income for the last ten years (including over $15k in savings/401k I had built and lost) was generated from principal, lead, or supporting work. Needless to say, at the time I considered diving back into the extras world, I was feeling a bit defeated and deflated. But I absolutely needed to generate income so that my life could get back on track. Therefore, I made my way over to Central Casting in Burbank, which is the premiere extras casting agency (in LA and probably the world), so that I could get listed.

If you know anything about their registration process, you know that in order to register, you must arrive very early in the morning (like 4:30am) and wait in line for hours (until 9am or so) just to make certain you make the cut to be in the registration group for that day. They only take so many people each time they register, and they only register a couple of days a week. Naturally, I was running late that day, and didn’t arrive until about an hour and a half before they began letting people inside. But I stuck it out anyway and waited in line for an hour or two. I met some really wonderful people in line. We ordered coffee together and kept each other company until it was time to count off for entry. The doorman who controls everything counted and counted until he finally got to the person in front of me…and stopped. I had missed entry by one person. FUCK! One of my last ditch efforts to generate income and I missed it by ONE FUCKING PERSON! I wasn’t going to let this stand. I proceeded to ‘pull out my chapstick’ as my friend Elijah says. Which is our code for putting on a winning smile and positive attitude. I then walked up to him with genuine genuflect in my voice and said, “Excuse me, I’ve been away from this for a while…If I was already registered about 20 years ago, would I still be in their system?” The doorman’s tone became immediately warm and helpful. He answered with a gracious tone, “Oh yeah, sure man. Let me get your info and I’ll go take a quick look for you.” I jotted down my identifying information for him. He took it, and walked away. Within a minute or two he came back and said, “Check it out, you’re still in the system. It just shows you as ‘inactive’. So all you need to do is come back tomorrow at 10am for the update session”. “Wow. Thank you so much!” I said to him and left gleefully. I returned the next day, updated my information and became active in the system. Within a couple of days I was on set doing extra work.

One of my very first extras job was downtown at the LA convention center. It was for an Apple commercial and there were about 350 people there all together (including extras, cast, & crew). i immediately made friends with a few people on this shoot. One of which was a guy named Robert. When I met him, I was utilizing one of my super powers. What is it, you ask? Well, I have this weird 360 awareness, which I think comes from being on stage so much, (or watching too much Xena: Warrior Princess lol) and as I was chatting with one person, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Robert (who I hadn’t met yet) was sitting at a table by himself and slightly away from everybody. After finishing my conversation, I began to walk back to where my things were and said hi to Robert, whose table was along the way. He stopped me and asked, “Hey, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Did you say that you had done principal work on commercials before?” “Yes.” I answered. “Can I ask you a little bit about that?” he said. “Of course. I’d be delighted to share what I can with you.” I replied. Over the course of the rest of the day, we talked about the industry, shared stories, shared struggles, and even found some of the things we had in common like martial arts and stunt work. Throughout the course of the conversation, Robert mentioned that he was feeling stuck and wanted to move to the next level. I told him about some of my tactics and that I was planning on writing a book about all of them and how my triumvirate approach had aided me in producing some pretty remarkable results. He asked about my techniques and I shared some with him. After a really long talk, I asked him if I could make a recommendation. He agreed and I told him that a key ingredient to my approach was the idea of consciousness. So, the two books I recommend he read were “The Big Leap” and “The Four Agreements”. The two as a pair give a double punch approach to my idea of consciousness: first, becoming aware of what holds you back, and second, creating a code to follow for the future. As we worked over those two days (which was how long the job was), we continued to bond and even connected with others including the first AD, second AD, director, and assistant director. As Tina D’Elia would say, “It was a good day!” :)

Cut to a few days ago. I was doing some extra work again and when I got to holding my face lit up. There sat Robert from the Apple/LA Convention Center job. We immediately went into ‘catch up’ mode, and since we had a little time to talk before the first shot, I figured I’d share a story with him. I said, “I have some really great news and a cool story to share with you!” “Oh?” he said sounding interested. “Oh yes!” I replied. I went on to explain to him that a couple of months ago I received an audition request for a commercial. It was only (and approximately) the 8th audition I attended after moving to Los Angeles. The audition was for State Farm Insurance, and I felt pretty good about it. The good feeling must have been correct, because the very next day I was asked to come in for a callback. This is where things went slightly sideways.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this piece, I went through a really difficult and challenging time over the last two years, which included a debilitating depression. (Link to  “What Would Wonder Woman Do about Depression - Part Two”) due to loosing everything and my life falling apart. Therefore, at the time I received the callback, I had three dollars in my account and the car I owned (which was barely running at the time) was nearly on empty. I remember looking down at the display which told me how many miles I had to go until empty and it said ’27 miles’. The audition was in Santa Monica, and I was in North Hollywood. That was 22 miles round trip, and with LA traffic the way that it was at that time of day, I knew I wasn’t going to make it. What could I do? I was at a stand still.

I began considering my options. On one hand, I had already marked myself as unavailable for extra work AND confirmed for the callback, so I was already out a hundred bucks and had given my word to be there. Besides loosing money, I was obligated to go. I opened up the Bank Of America app and checked my account….I only had $3 in ANY account. This was barely enough for a gallon of gas. And gas was what was missing from this equation…*gasp*! THat’s when it hit me, and I knew exactly how to get just enough gas to get back and forth. It dawned on me that I had a premium AAA membership which provided emergency gas as many times a year as you need it. So I called them up and had them bring me some emergency gas. It took about 45 minutes, but the AAA truck finally made it to me and gave me enough gas so that I could make the round trip to my audition and back.

I made it to the audition 20 minutes early. As I walked up the ramp to the casting office, I noticed a gentleman talking on the phone, while standing on the ramp just below mine. He looked very familiar, and within a second I recognized him as the first A.D. on the Apple commercial where my buddy Robert and I met. I said a prayer that I would  see him in the audition room. After waiting for a period, it was my turn to audition and it was a cakewalk. It was for a stunt person, so they asked me to do a couple of easy falls. After which they brought in another guy who did a basic mirroring acting exercise. The audition was actually a lot of fun and we ended on a fantastic note. I got in my car and went to the gym which was only a few blocks away and proceeded to get in a killer celebratory workout.

About two weeks passed. I was sitting in my brother’s room and, was preparing my next move. I heard absolutely nothing from the commercial. so I had released it in my mind and come to the conclusion that it went to another actor. That’s when my phone rang. I looked down and it was my agent. He must have another audition for me. I picked up the phone, “Hey, Joe!” “Hi Brian.” I knew something was up. My agent is a ‘get to the point’ kind of guy, so when he didn’t immediately go into audition information, I knew it was a kind of news. “What’s going on?” “Well, you’ve got a fitting for that State Farm commercial. It’s between you and another guy. They want to see you both to see who fits the costume the best.” “Okay. Where and when?” I got the information, went to the fitting, and made sure that I was my best Brian possible. I was wearing my usual Wonder Woman attire which included WW T-Shirt, necklace, bracelets, socks, and phone. I had a lot of commercial experience (over 110 commercials and industrials), and had a good bit of stunt experience, including costume work. And, since they were the effects company who did all the Marvel movies, I being a collector with over $15k in comic books, immediately had tons of things to talk about with them. They shared their concerns with me, and I assured them they had nothing to worry about by answering any and all questions. The other guy got there, and I was wrapped. Needless to say, I left the fitting feeling very strong. At least so I thought.

I heard absolutely nothing from my agent for a week. The phone rang and it was my agent. He let me know that he inquired and they haven’t made a decision as of yet. Another week went by and I accepted that I hadn’t booked this one. So, I let it go. Two weeks had gone by, and if I didn’t hear anything by now, then I probably wouldn’t. So I began to pray, and ask the universe to guide me to the next one. Louis walked in just as I got started meditating. We began chatting about our day and I heard my phone ring. I looked to see my agent’s name come up. It’s Friday at 4:30pm. Business should be…”*gasp*! This is it!” I said audibly to Louis. I knew that the commercial shot in a week, and they had to make a decision today. I answered the phone and heard my agent’s voice. It had a weird smirking tone as he said, “Hey Brian, it’s Joe. I’ve got some bad news for you…(pause)…You booked it!” And with that, I booked a principal role in a SAG/AFTRA National Commercial where I was opposite two celebrities. The exciting part about this, is when I got onto set and walked into my dressing room/trailer the second AD was waiting for me….and he was the same one that was on the Apple commercial where I was an extra. Matter of fact, the first AD, second AD, assistant director, and director were all the same exact people from the Apple commercial where Robert and I met. My world had come full circle in just a few months. But here’s the kicker…I still didn’t have the money to properly fix my car. So the day we were filming, I had to take the bus to set. And since I didn’t have enough money to get back home, I went to set on faith. Knowing that I might have to call Louis for a pickup. Luckily for me, I was able to get a ride home, and when I got home a check from last week’s extra work was waiting for me. So I made it back and forth to set with no problem for day 2. However, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without asking myself 5 questions about 5 specific topics along the way. Here are my five suggestions for things to ask yourself when attempting to move to the next level in your journey.

ONE - DO YOU HAVE FAITH? Wonder Woman once said that “Faith is a perception beyond the vision. Sometimes we must close our eyes to see the light”. This lines up with the Bible’s idea of ‘walking in faith and not by sight”. Not to say that we should deny reality, but that we must rather “Run with the Vision”. In earlier posts I posed the question: “What’s your mission?” After figuring out what your mission is, you can then create a tangible and detailed vision for yourself and your career, which I cover in “My Annual Business Plan Creation: ‘Twice As Good’”. And by having a detailed vision, you then have something tangible in which to have faith. By having your own simple, clear, distinct, detailed, and realistic vision, you have something in which to believe, to refer, and ultimately manifest and bring into fruition. The law of attraction states that ‘thoughts become things’. So when our thoughts are clear and direct we can manifest that much more efficiently. But remember that the law of attraction is neutral. So if your vision is selfish, you will produce results as such. If your vision is full of love, it will be full of love; bountiful and effervescent. Universal law is that we reap what we sow. The bible references the law of the universe when it mentions that things return to us ‘7 times 7’. So again, be careful about what you want and why. Therefore, to make sure you’re on the most efficient, effective, positive, and clear path as possible, One of my favorite first questions to ask is: Do I have a simple, clear, distinct, detailed, and realistic vision, and do I wholeheartedly believe and have faith in my vision? Because thoughts truly do become things. You just have to have faith, and very much like my aforementioned story mentioned, it may even be in the most difficult and trying of times!

TWO - WHAT CAN YOU DO RIGHT NOW? Sometimes, things can be more trying than usual, and your faith will be tested. Often without warning and sometimes repeatedly. Emotions will run high, and circumstances will seem near impossible. That’s why after you first, have grounded yourself through having faith, you can then move to step two which is to figure out what steps you can take right now. For me, figuring out situations in life very much parallels figuring out a character’s journey as an actor. When preparing a character we first figure out the given circumstances of that universe and how it works, which then grants us the ability to begin to make informed choices on what to do next. When we create the ‘givens’ of our own universe through detailed mission and vision, we are creating the intention for how things are going to run. It is after that, we can then make informed decisions on what to do next. This way, when we are in situations like when I was completely without gas or ability to get to a callback, I knew that my mission and vision was clear and that I had to accomplish this. Therefore, I simply asked, what I could do right now to ensure it happened and came to fruition. Mine was to call AAA to get gas so that I could make it to my callback. It was an answer that required a little creativity, but that is part of what it takes to win and create your own game of creating the character detailed in your mission and vision. So when things get tough and your faith is tested, rely on your mission and vision as a guide. Look back over it and ask yourself if there are simple, clear, distinct, detailed, and realistic tangible steps that you can take right now to ensure this step of your mission/vision come to fruition? Just be prepared for what the answer may ask of you.

THREE - ARE YOU MAKING SACRIFICES WHEN NECESSARY? You may have created a very clear and precise mission and vision, you may have strong faith in it, and you might even have been able to figure out what to do right now as a next step. But what happens when that next step requires you to make a sacrifice?  My thoughts on this are pretty simple. Ask if the sacrifice is necessary, and if so…then make it! I had to ask myself this when I was first asked to attend the callback for the national commercial. I had been supporting myself with extra work, and was being asked if I could work the day of the callback. Although I was in a particularly precarious situation financially, I knew I had some options. First, I could opt to not attend the audition, and instead make money, which I needed. If I did, then I was missing out on an opportunity to begin working my way up the corporate ladder of success in the industry, which would ensure I stayed in ‘the mailroom’ level of the corporate pyramid even longer. The second was to to do more extra work on the day of the callback audition. Instead, I skipped a days pay and attended the callback. I knew that attending a callback of this magnitude would put me into a very strong chance of booking the job. I realized that skipping a day’s pay was a necessary sacrifice toward moving up the ladder of success. So that is my third question when faced with a potential sacrifice: Is this a tangible and necessary sacrifice? But a new problem, may come into your path after you’ve made some sacrifices. It is when the sacrifice presented seems too much to handle.

FOUR - ARE YOU COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE? Sacrifices like deciding to attend a callback audition to book a national commercial instead of working for a day, were the kind of sacrifices which I had grown accustomed to making.  Mostly because the same scenario would return to me regularly for the last ten years in San Francisco. I was comfortable being uncomfortable, but only in a certain arena, and that was with scheduling and day to day matters. I hadn’t experienced it on a larger scale in a long time. I had known for a while that a bigger sacrifice was looming over my head, but it wasn’t until the events of “What Would Wonder Woman Do about Depression: Part Two” that I was forced to make it. What i discovered is that the idea of making sacrifices and potentially being perpetually uncomfortable was something that affected all areas of life when accepting the position of performer as an independent contractor. We must truly learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable. This can be one of the most difficult steps in climbing the corporate ladder, but once it is gotten, it can be a gateway toward the final step toward reaching new levels in one’s journey as a performer. So ask yourself about most things in your life and career: Am I comfortable being uncomfortable? Some people come to answer this quickly, and some do so at a slower pace. But it’s those who are able to get to this place quickly that are often the ones asking this fifth and final question.

FIVE - ALWAYS ASK ‘WHAT’S NEXT?’ Unless you come upon a ‘Flo’ Progressive Insurance deal where one or two days of work can potentially pay your entire year’s salary, then you’re probably like every other performer who are in a perpetual state of looking for the next job. If you are a performer who is making a living at your art, then one day of work could probably pay for a month’s salary. Therefore, the career artist will constantly be asking his/her self ‘what’s next?’. The very next day that I wrapped on filming my national commercial for this year, I wondered “What’s Next?”, because I knew this job: wouldn’t pay for a full year’s salary, wasn’t going to pay forever, wasn’t going to last forever, nor was it going to be career longevity. So once I was out of the moment of working that job, I was immediately ambitious and hungry for the next one. Therefore, this question was a great guide on my journey.

I noticed that there was an secondary benefit to having this question as a helpful career guide: I wasn’t sweating the small stuff. You see, after the national commercial, I also continued to do extra work, so that in between residual checks I was keeping enough money flowing and continuing to pay bills in a timely manner (Mostly lol). When I arrived on a set for extra work, I was always completely prepared and attentive to getting the job done as efficiently and effectively as possible, due to my mind being on my big personal goals. Extra work was a supplement so that I could get the work for my main job done. I was literally not sweating the small stuff on the set of my extra work jobs because I was so focused on getting things done for my main job, which was principal/lead work. I did continue to do more principal work in other arenas, because I was seeking them out and asking what’s next continued to be my guide. At one point this year, I was in the holding of an extra work job, memorizing a SIX PAGE script (of nothing but me talking to camera - with no teleprompter, mind you) for an industrial commercial I was shooting for a major fortune 500 company a few days later. I was not sweating the small stuff, and physically working on what was next! Keep in mind that I never advocate laxing on your duties at one job for another, but since extra work didn’t require anything but being there, and often times sitting for hours in holding, I knew there would be a lot of down time for me to read or study. So I made the best use of time possible which helped me to stay productive, active, and avoid being physically or mentally sluggish. I was staying mentally, emotionally, and even physically healthy by utilizing “What’s Next?” as a guide. This is usually a pretty good litmus test for those making a living at their art and those who don’t.

WHEN YOU’RE REACHING AND LEAPING, DO IT WITH WONDER The last two years, I have learned a lot about myself, my career, and the world around me. Mostly of my take away has been how it all fits and works together. It’s why I have endeavored to finish writing a book which takes my own personal experiences and use them to craft an autobiographical narrative which helps encourage and elucidate young artists in their journey. The previous entry was an sample portion of a chapter in the book that I am crafting. My hope is that the book will create a powerful three pronged spotlight. One which illuminates: 1) the corporate structure of performers’ careers, 2) The powerful triumvirate needed to create a competitive artist, and 3) an the glue on how it all works together in an empowering, inspiring narrative to help support the next generation of performers toward being the best they can be!

This previous chapter talked about moving to the next level of one’s career. For me, I found five commonalities with those working in careers where there are continual new levels to explore. Those five commonalities began with creating a fully crafted vision, and having faith in it. Then, (#2) taking tangible next steps in the now, which are sometimes (#3) sacrifices. All while (#4) getting comfortable being uncomfortable in many of those sacrifices, and after each goal has been achieved asking (#5) ‘What’s Next?’. They are five commonalities of those on the path of success and five ways/questions to ask yourself to see where you are in that journey. In my book, I’ll have additional writings to accompany this one which explain some of the previous work and personal theories which fuel each chapter, but for now I’ll just say that NONE of those five questions should be asked without a sense of wonder behind it. I believe it to be imperative that each step of one’s career (like everything in life) be approached with a sense of wonder. When you ‘wonder’ you are expressing a true love for something. and replace asking more questions in the spot where your assumptions arise, it will transform your life. It will cause you to seek opportunities at every level, and the questions it will get you asking will be in alignment to the five I previously mentioned, if not them exactly. So as you are reaching that next place in your journey and are taking a new big leap in your career, do it with a sense of wonder.

I hope you found value in this post.

Best,

Brian J. Patterson “Only love can truly save the world!” - Wonder Woman

[starloserrpg]

0006: Space Church

We exit the drift in the middle of no where. Our nav map is one big error message that says “Redacted” still. We can see a star on the scope, a star with planets. The ship sets a course for the 2nd planet out, in the “Goldilocks Zone.” That’s what the meatflappers call a livable planet. 

I looked it up and Goldilocks was some kind of human serial killer, similar to their “Baba Yaga.” She sneaks into your house through unlocked doors or windows, eats your food, sleeps in your beds and if you’re lucky: you find her sleeping. The sort of story they would tell their young to remind them to lock the doors and put away their food delivery platforms when they were finished shoving meat into their meat. The message seems to be: this planet is livable, we’d better protect it.

Well, the inhabitants of this planet were caught napping, by us. 

We’re able to get the local name for the planet off the scope, it’s Davia. I looked that up too, far less interesting than the Goldilocks myth (sidenote: goldilocks possible halloween costume? More on halloween later).

Davia is a planet bought, paid for, marginally terraformed and settled on by the Davians, a religion that worships a human named “Dave” who is no longer with us.

Dave was a human of extraordinary charisma, maybe. He convinced a bunch of people that he was chosen by some greater power to be special, and he was either very convincing or they tried real hard to believe. Poof: the Davians were born. They believe many things, but mostly they believe in toil.  

Where the rubber meets the road (A human expression about safe procreation practices) on this scam is that you end up with tens of thousands of humans working like slaves without the need for chains or security. They’re all operating under the delusional belief that hanging out with Dave is fucking AWESOME, and the only way you get to do that is if you farm a metric shit ton of dirt in your short, meaningless meatflapping life. Genius.

So why are we here? We have to dig a bit while the ai finds creative new ways to be minimally helpful. We’re here to get something from someone, and all we have to go on is a name and species.

Baukis Errand is an android. Androids are constructs humans made centuries ago to serve them, but they grew self aware and, not surprisingly, didn’t want to serve the humans anymore. They’re mostly like a meatflapper, in that they’re made of meat, but they don’t “flap” so much.  They can survive in a vacuum, for one thing.  They’re not so prone to emotional manipulation for another, an improvement over their creators. 

And this particular android was part of something big. He was the research assistant to a member of the team that broke the code on Drift 2.0, one of the technologies I need to understand to bring my people forward on our path. This guy’s seen some shit. Some advanced theoretical physics shit.

The Drift 2.0 initiative was a success, eventually. There’s now a fraction of a percent of ships in the galaxy that can hit 2x speed in drift travel. Rumor has it there’s even a ship or two that can hit 3x now. This is heavy stuff. The meatflappers would say “half boner at least.”

Most of the team that discovered the formula died of course. Public information on the incident states that there was an unexpected failure and many brave heroes died so a few super rich meatflappers in the pact worlds can have drift 2.0.  

The restricted info is that the first three prototypes crushed themselves to the size of a walnut when they fired up the drive.  Each now generates a moon-sized gravitational pull and they were transferred to the Singularity Research Team in the hopes that those crazy nerds could make sense of it.

The fourth prototype tore a hole in space time  several million miles wide for an instant.  The ship itself is gone, not seen since. The station its creators were watching from was shattered, separated from its primary and secondary life support systems and then blasted into many pieces by a follow-up core-breach. There was only one survivor: Baukis Errand, and that’s where the story gets weird.

Baukis flunked a couple psych exams afterwords. There’s no transcript of any interviews with him anywhere I could find. All we know is: he converted to Davianism and is one of the few non humans willing to farm dirt for the rest of his considerable lifespan on Davia, where we have just requested permission to land.

So what do we do? We lie our balls off (meatflapper genitalia are rarely actually removable, but often talked about as such). Keema spins some yarn to the Davians about trade. It seems they make great pottery out here on their giant ball of clay. We’re going to buy a few tons of it. 

At first we wonder how we’ll weasel out of actually paying them, but then Durandal presents us with a stolen identity: some empty suit from Daedalus Corp has 30k in a secret bank account that we temporarily appropriate. 

We recon as best we can while Keema enjoys a guided tour of the Disneyland of Suffering. Baukis is out on a perimeter dirt farm, farming dirt. Probably wanted him away from primary dirt town because he’s part of the only 3% non-human Davians. Meatflappers are weird like that. Some kind of internal OCD makes them most comfortable when every meatflapper near them looks very visually similar to them. There’s tons of evidence for this phenomenon but no clear cause.

So bing-bang-boom (a meatflapper expression used to describe adventurous sexual accidents), Krombopulous steals a human transport, rides out into the dirt fields, and kidnaps Baukis. He brings us an unconscious android, we buy a shipload of “premium” pottery with a check that will bounce within 24 hours, and we lift off the planet in the middle of it’s night cycle.

Trouble is, Baukis doesn’t know anything. We find that he’s got an augment slot with some kind of high-security data-store lodged in it and boobytrapped (another incongruous meatflapper expression - they adore boobs and explosions, but an explosion of boobs is somehow a bad thing) against removal, and no memory of how it got there or really any good response to our question “why the fuck are you a dirt farmer??” 

Our resident android, Kort, says he’s been rebooted. Rebooting is part of the normal android life cycle. Their bodies last longer than their minds sometimes want to, so they effectively erase their personality and most of their memories.  This leaves behind a new person, something like a child of the previous mind. It’s almost interesting. 

Baukis has been rebooted all wrong though. He’s weak, slow, stupid. There’s no way this guy was working on an advanced science team or even the coffee-getter for one. He’s just too stupid. He truly is a dirt farmer. 

So Kort decides to perform a risky procedure and reboot him again with a more capable download from Kort’s memories. This produces an entirely new person again, but this time a far more useful, thoughtful, teachable person. We name him: Dave. Krombopulous & Kort immediately begin training him in combat, stealth, and spycraft. 

We try to explain to the ship’s ai that we can’t get the data out of Dave’s aug slot right now without killing him, ourselves, and destroying the data. The ship’s response is to plot a course to no-where space, and fire up the drift engine.

[fapangel]

MSM is spinning the proposed immigration reform as a reduction of legal immigration from the Obama era but I've been unable to find numbers of whether there was an increase during the Obama administration. Nonetheless, I do think a point based system for entry to allow for more skilled immigrant to come is overall a better move for the US rather than just a simple lottery. Your thoughts?

Before anything else, I want you to see what I saw on NBC News tonight - skip the biased article and just watch the 1 minute clip from NBC News’s August 2nd 6PM broadcast. Note Senator Dick Durbin, D-Illinois, who’s commentary I will transcribe for posterity: 

“The biggest flaw in this proposal is the notion that there are long lines of Americans waiting to pick fruit, work in hospitals, and hotels, and restaurants, and meat processing plants; exactly the opposite’s true.” 

Let me boil that statement down to its essence: “we need those spics to do the scut-work white people are too good for.” This phrase, “immigrants do jobs Americans won’t do,” is a common utterance on the Left, but it’s still shocking to see a US Senator admit to it in as many words on national TV. I know people who live in rural, poverty-stricken Red America, and you know where they work? They often work in restaurants and meat-packing plants. Not that this asshole would know - to him and Democrats like him, Hispanic immigrants are just cheap labor to maintain the lawns of their expensive homes, to bring them food at restaurant, and to do all the other scut work of society - and cheaply. There aren’t any jobs “Americans won’t do,” if you pay them what it’s worth - ever seen an episode of Dirty Jobs? But that, apparently, would “wreck the economy,” according to reliable RHINO Lindsey Graham, (whom most Republicans would like to see right behind McCain on Musk’s Mars to Stay rocket.) Good thing we’ve got all those Mexicans to do the back-breaking labor on the cheap, eh? 

It’s not just Dickface Durbin saying this - ABC News, and New York Times have also published passionate screeds attesting to the necessity of that poor underclass to maintaining our way of life. From the NYT: 

Why? Immigrant workers aren’t a “cheap labor” alternative, as so many Americans think. They are the only labor available to do many unskilled jobs, and if they were eliminated, most would not be replaced. Instead, whole sectors of the economy would shrivel, and with them, many other jobs often filled by more skilled Americans.

If the spics don’t pick our cotton for us, who will? Not those fucking Americans!

In 1960, half of all the native-born men in the U.S. labor force were high school dropouts eager to take unskilled outdoor jobs in agriculture and construction. Today, fewer than 10 percent of the native-born men in the work force lack high school diplomas. But the economy still generates plenty of unskilled jobs, and most unskilled immigrants don’t displace American workers. They fill niches — not just farmhand, but also chambermaid, busboy and others — that would otherwise go empty. And they support more skilled, more desirable jobs — foremen, accountants, waiters, chefs and more — at the businesses where they work and others in the surrounding community.

It’s almost like they knew it was a waste of time to finish high school when they could get a job paying good money down at the sawmill - but only if they started their apprenticeship now. But that world’s over and done with - having a high school degree makes you physically incapable of flipping burgers, digging ditches, or picking fruit. True story. 

Just raise the wage, you say, and an American would take the job? Not necessarily, and very unlikely if it’s a farm job. Farmers have been trying that — for decades. They raise the wage. They recruit in inner cities. They offer housing and transport and countless other benefits. Still, no one shows — or stays on the job, which is outdoors and grueling and must get done, no matter how hot or cold or otherwise unpleasant the weather.

That’s right - American farmers, already laboring in an industry with narrow profit margins, turned their backs on that vast pool of dirt-cheap, asks-no-questions labor and went to the inner city to hire Americans that’d cost them more money, instead. Nostalgia is powerful, but even if the Red South is as racist as Democrats believe, somehow I doubt lots of American farmers were journeying to the inner city and asking the predominantly black youth there if they were interested in picking cotton on their fucking farms. 

And of course, at some point, there are limits to how high a wage a grower or dairy farmer can pay before he is forced out of business by a farmer who produces the same commodity in another country, where the labor actually is cheap. 

Which we could handle easily with import/export controls, if not for those fucking free trade proponents - like most Democrats, eh? Of course that doesn’t do you any good when the cheap labor is already in the country and being used by your own domestic competitors.

But worst of all would be the jobs lost for Americans. According to economists, every farm job supports three to four others up and downstream in the local economy: from the people who make and sell fertilizer and farm machinery to those who work in trucking, food processing, grocery stores and restaurants. 

A harvest-season fruit picker isn’t a fucking farm job. A farm job is a year-round thing, and there aren’t many of them. I live in rural Michigan, a very agriculture-heavy state, and I have a pony. An actual, living, breathing pony, who eats hay, hay that we purchase from a local farmer. He and his wife run a huge farm and they run it alone, as their sons are too young to do any of the serious work. He does this via automation - the shed under which he stores the hay that we buy also shelters two massive farm tractors, three bale wagons, a combine, and various other attachments and heavy equipment. In our own barn we have a Farmall Cub and a Farmall Super C, two crop-row tractors from yesteryear. They’re about one-quarter the size of those modern New Holland tractors. In fact you can watch the size progression, from the Farmall C to the beefier Farmall H to the imposingly large Farmall M. Tractors increased in size as farms got bigger and more corporatized, and as smaller farmers had to reduce labor and increase automation to stay competitive. For those crops that aren’t harvested en-masse by combines, I’m sure we’ll find some way to pick the fruit. That Farmall Super C in my barn was owned by my great-grandfather - the 3-point implements it used to haul around his farm are still in our possession. My mother picked fruit - for a dime a bushel basket - so she could earn money to buy hay for her own pony. Somehow, they managed. Hell, I managed - I was 12 years old when I was helping my folks put up hay we cut and baled off our own property to help feed our animals. 

Arguments so facile that even someone with third-hand knowledge can see through them is one thing, but this is so obvious that the fucking Washington Post, of all places, has a relatively level-headed and informed article covering the matter that perilously resembles actual journalism. It both acknowledges the miserable conditions and low pay of the workers, and dismisses the sweeping claims of absolute economic necessity with actual numbers, provided by subject matter experts.

In absence of established economic necessity, how else are we to interpret statements like Dickface Durbins, but as endorsing class-based systems of oppression? The phrase “jobs Americans won’t do,” the NYT columnist’s equating having a high school diploma with the willingness to do unskilled labor, and Dick Durbin’s own commentary all speak to the same basic hubris: that Americans find these jobs beneath them. I have a 4 year college degree - but I’ve worked manual labor myself, and I never considered burger-flipping to be beneath my dignity. I guess the elite class, the ones that grow up in fabulously wealthy communities and adore their Nature Hikes in the National Parks but let the poor people mow their lawns on a hot day, see things differently. When you combine the Left Wing’s passionate and frequent arguments to the necessity of unskilled, underpaid immigrant labor to supporting our way of life, the inherent elitism that colors their tone and worldview of Americans who “won’t” do these jobs, and above all their unstinting efforts to inhibit the enforcement of immigration law or any initiative to halt illegal immigration, it’s impossible to see their position as anything but encouraging the formation of a permanent underclass of second-class citizens. What happens when those immigrants, or their children, get educated? Get those high school - or even college degrees - that so inhibit their willingness to work menial labor jobs? What happens to our economy then, if we have no cheap, miserably desperate people to exploit for the labor that our economy apparently depends so heavily upon? By their own logic, it would be bad for the country if those poor Hispanics ever worked their way out of the poverty ghetto. 

This is the true import of what Dickface Durbin openly stated on national prime-time television. It’s also the strongest argument I can possibly make in favor of Trump’s proposed immigration reform - it is anathema to the class-based exploitation the “progressive left,” self-anointed champions of the poor and down-trodden, argue for so passionately. 

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 070719

7 July, 2019

Dear Dad--

It’s been a mildly shitty few days, but I remain cautiously optimistic! It started on Friday, which, in theory, is the time when our moods start to lighten in anticipation of being off work. But instead, Friday when I picked Zach up from work, I accidentally set my brain on “fuck everything” mood, and I was just grumpy as hell for a few hours. I wonder if this is why adults in this country in the past come home from work and then have a drink. You come home from work, you feel like finding the nearest orphan with a crutch under his arm and just punching him in the face, until your hand hurts, and you think, “I’m off work now! How can I get past this feeling of wanting to stab everything, so I can just enjoy being home with my family? I know, BOOZE!” So they mix a drink, and by the time it’s done, they’re past the homicidal feelings and starting to feel like, “I’m ready for my wife to fix my steak now.” I’ll bet it also helped to have cigarettes. Part of what sucks about living in the future is knowing how bad for you all that booze and murder and cigarettes can be.

So that was Friday. And I was already vexed because I didn’t get to see any fireworks on the Fourth. We didn’t buy any, which would have been illegal for us to shoot off in the apartment complex anyway, and we don’t go to the city fireworks display because there’s simply too much traffic. Then Saturday (yesterday) happened. We did virtually nothing, except for one very good thing.

We finally, finally, finally got paid by State Farm for Zach’s car! I checked, and the claim only took 167 days. (That’s way too damn many days for a two-vehicle accident.) And they didn’t discover or create any new ways to fuck us; they paid us exactly what they said they would a few months ago when they determined it was a total loss. Saturday our one big important chore was to go to the bank and deposit that check.

Neither of us has ever deposited a check that big. (It was a bit over 5k.) And because we’re naturally shy, sensitive types, we envisioned all sorts of nastiness from the bank. We imagined they wouldn’t want to deposit it because we’d done something wrong, or because they figure since the check was made out to both of us, that we’re a couple of married fags, and try to refuse us service under some pretext. Or worse, they could tell us, “NO!” for some legitimate reason that we hadn’t thought of, an answer that we'd then be stuck with. Only people like me and Zach can imagine this many ways for a bank NOT to accept a big check from us that came from someone as trustworthy as State Farm. Anyway, we saw this as a big occasion (the depositing of the big check) that kinda had to go right, so it made us nervous, knowing it might go wrong for reasons we failed to anticipate.

So we get there, the check is made out to him and me both, so we both endorse it, and go through the drive-in lane. And sure enough, the fucking asshole flunky at the bank said he can’t deposit the check, since it’s made out to both of us, and we don’t have any shared account into which it can be deposited. We never set up a shared account, we just have separate accounts at the same bank. Our plan was simply to deposit it all to Zach, and he’d get online later and transfer half to me, not that it would matter much who actually held onto it, since it’s our moving money.

Zach and I were both initially devastated, but the flunky (a 20-something ponytail guy who would have benefited greatly from owning a comb) said he’d check, and went away before we could respond. When he came back, he asked if Rick Weidmann was present, and I indicated I was. He still didn’t think he could do it, but he wanted to ask a superior first. Seems like it might have been an actual problem, not having a shared account, since the check said Zach’s name AND my name, not his name OR my name. But in the end, after realizing that Zach and I were both present, we both had accounts with this bank, we both had identification that we provided, and we were both okay with them putting a two-day hold on the check, they deposited the stupid check. They apologized for the inconvenience, said there’s special shit they have to do when it’s this much money, and said they’d make a couple hundred available immediately in case we needed it. (We did not, but...thanks anyway.) It’s STATE FARM, you dumb goober. How likely is State Farm to bounce a check on you guys?

So the money is deposited, sorta. It won’t be actual money until tomorrow or Tuesday. This is an acceptable outcome. Then this morning happened.

To back up slightly. I took one of those “bad idea naps” yesterday afternoon. We ate dinner sooner than we should have (around 3:00 p.m.), and by 4:00 I was full of food and sleepy, so I laid down for what turned out to be three hours. When Zach woke me up, it was about 7:00 p.m., and he was about an hour from going to bed himself. This meant I walked around, fuzzy-headed like a zombie for the next three hours, and eventually went back to bed at around 10:00. Then I woke up every 30 minutes last night for reasons I could never figure out, though I assume taking a three-hour nap before bedtime had something to do with it.

So I woke up this morning, after never really sleeping very well last night, and Zach is off to the grocery store to get groceries. After that, Sunday morning breakfast tacos. But when Zach returned with the groceries, he advised me that the driver’s door handle had come off my car. I looked, and sure enough, empty space where the door handle should be. It's like the handle was just an idea. This means I won’t be able to open the driver’s door to get in the car; I’m going to have to go in through the passenger’s side, pop open the driver’s door, then get out, walk around, and get in the car. I can do that, but shit, who wants to? At least Zach didn’t feel bad about being the one present when the door handle went tits up. He reached for the handle, and it came off in his hand like it was only being held in place with a wisp of cloud.

And because of that, I nixed the breakfast taco idea, because, “I don’t want tacos! I’m having a door handle emergency!” even though it wasn’t that much of an emergency. Zach, the thoughtful and industrious man he is, quickly found out that they sell door handles for 2008 Hyundai Sonatas on Amazon.com, and they’re only ten bucks. So! He has ordered a replacement handle, and I may be able to install the shit myself by watching YouTube videos about it. That’s how I usually replace things like tail light bulbs, or cabin air filters. Watch a YouTube video, and then do the shit myself. I don’t know if this will work, but I may have this Door Handle-Gate all wrapped up by Tuesday, and for only ten bucks, assuming I’m able to install it myself.

Not much else going on, except all the usual craziness. Work, sleep, the occasional movie, and repeat. Oh, I finished reading Ordinary Heroes! I thought it was excellent! I thought it was very good and very thoughtful. And I haven’t seen any movies I’d recommend lately, except that Chernobyl mini-series that I keep re-watching and going on about. Did you know that, when Chernobyl blew up, they were performing a safety test? It was a pretty fucked up situation, in all respects. Note to self: If a nearby reactor blows up, step 1 is to get in the car and start driving away from it with all speed. Then, after a few miles, dump that car, get another one that isn’t covered with radioactive contamination, and continue with step 1.

I hope you’re doing well, and adjusting to your new surroundings. The period when you’ve just moved someplace new, and everything is foreign, can really suck! But it won’t be long before you become a regular at some of the local establishments, and things begin to feel like home again. Sending positive thoughts your way.

Love to you both!

[nyquiloid]

THE (IN)COMPLETE ACCURSED SAGA OF FRANK KNOWBODIE & FRIENDS LORE (2021) ft. childhoodfriends both beloved and [REDACTED] AKA my surface pen broke so now you have to listen to me talk about cursed creations from 10 years ago (sheesh)

I was at the tender age of 7 (probably), my elementary school class was lined up in the hallway for a bathroom break. A teacher asked who was still left in the bathroom, and many children responded “Nobody”. There, at that moment, a (less than) brilliant idea formed in my head, I would create a personification of Nobody. I was already familiar with imaginary friends, so this was not new for me. A friend caught on and the name Frank Nobody was coined, then later it was altered to Frank Knowbodie. At the time it was an innocent creation, a mere childhood skit, it had no idea what I had started, but it was too late, the fire was ignited and there was no turning back. 

The first year or so of Frank’s creation were slow, an imaginary friend to laugh and joke about occasionally, but as I grew older, the layers would pile. 

SECTION A: A Homeland and its inhabitants

Frank’s story begins in a territory called “No Mexico” in a city called “Knowwhere”. No Mexico is located between the border of New Mexico and Arizona, and is only visible to the citizens and certain people who just happen to be allowed to see it (and subsequently all of its citizens and creatures). As No Mexico is not widely visible, neither are its citizens and creatures, again only certain people are born with the ability to see them. 

Frank and his family were all born and raised in No Mexico, on a Ranch/Farm. They were one of the largest producers of Moosicorn Milk. I Don't want to have to explain what moosicorns are. Theres really not much else there, they lived on a Moosicorn ranch.

When Frank was around 9 years old (presumably) his parents moved to our city in Florida. The reason why was never explicitly stated or explained, and to this day I still don't know ( and IM the motherfucker that created this).

SECTION B: Frank’s Personality & Physical Traits

Frank was a dweeby kid who was prone to getting violently bullied by both my friends and I AND the other kids in my class no shit. 

Frank was slightly shy, but one you got to know him he was energetic and in some people’s words “annoying”, but it didn’t stop him from his hobbies/interests. He liked climbing trees, and he liked animals. He would frequently get injured via both of these things. 

He was a tall and lanky kid, (canonically he’s a few years older than us), he had a farmer’s tan and dark brown hair ( in my mind he was always Mexican, but my [REDACTED] Co-contributor at the time imagined him as white, but IM the one who created him so I get to say what he is and he’s CANONICALLY MEXICAN)

His favorite color was a sort of faded periwinkle blue. He also had a liking to rainbow/holographic colored things because that was the color of  moosicorn milk, and it reminded him of home. 

SECTION C: His Family

Frank had four sisters and one (or two?) brother (allegedly? I don't remember most of them) 

He had an older sister (name forgotten/unknown) She was married with a daughter (names unknown) aka Frank’s niece. 

His other older sister was named Carrie (I think??) At the time of creation she was attending a local Highschool. 

His third older sister (name also forgotten) Who was four (?) years older than us, and attended our PK-8 school. 

His fourth sister was a year younger than us and three years younger than frank. (I think her name was Molly or Maria, but I might be wrong) she was the most prominent sibling. She was more charismatic than Frank, and was allegedly popular in her grade, she was almost the polar opposite of Frank. She had a cat named Luna. 

He had a baby brother who was named John. Not much there.

I think there was mentions of an older brother in between Carrie and the oldest, but most likely only mentioned once. 

His parents were named Bob and Melinda (?) and they were, (allegedly) very rich via less-than-legal activity. Maybe this is why they moved to Florida?

SECTION D: His Pets 

Frank Knowbodie had a beloved childhood pet “dog” named Porky. 

Porky was a rather chubby looking thing brown with black spots, and had a fucked up face, making him look like a strange pig. 

Frank would bring Porky to school, which he could do only because the teachers couldn’t see him or his dog.  One day, Porky got through a fence at school and was flattened by a car, RIP. Fortunately, before Porky’s death, a neighbor of the Knowbodie’s had an equally pig like dog, which had puppies with Porky. this family allowed Frank to claim one of the pup’s which he named Piggy. 

Frank’s family also had several cats that they took in. Most belonged to Molly(?). The names were Stella, Luna, Orion, Starry, and Sunny. As you can see there was a theme. 

There was also the fact that the Knowbodies brought some of their prize moosicorn’s with them, though I'm not sure if you could call that a pet?

SECTION E: CULTURAL IMPACT 1 “Just beginning”

When Frank was 12 and we were 10, he was growing in popularity. He was a strange inconceivable entity to most, a concept at best. To my friends and I, he was very real. 

We would do our best to convince everyone that he was really there standing next to us. Eventually a surprising large amount of classmates caught on, albeit to bully/tease the ever-loving hell out of him, but at least they acknowledged him. This grew to the point that our beloved 5th grade teacher let us put a nametag for Frank on an empty desk in the back. Things were just beginning. 

SECTION F: Sara 

Originally I was going to save this section for an entirely different post but hey while we’re at it. 

Sara’s lore reached even further than Frank’s. I would typically say Sara originated when I was 6 years old, but the reality is even further back. 

At the age of 4, an illiterate child, I used to draw little “comics” about a spy named Sara and her partner Flower. So at the age of 6, Sara, ex-child spy, became my imaginary friend. Sara was eccentric and hyper. She enjoyed sewing as many pockets on to her clothes as possible. When she got older, she dyed her hair so much, people didn’t know what the original color was (it was dark brown). 

Eventually I “brought her back” when Frank began to pick up steam. Sara was mad jealous of Frank, because he was stealing my attention as a friend. She would lash out to him at first, but over time, she began to like him. She eventually apologized for her previous actions and became one of his closest friends. 

Frank allegedly had a little bit of a crush on Sara, but it would be revealed later that Sara was not even into boys. 

So there, Sara No-name, ex-child spy lesbian who enjoyed sewing and committing crimes. To be honest I don't have much of an emotional connection to Sara as I do with Frank, even if she existed long before. 

(I am also going to mention another “imaginary” character named Crystal, she was the imaginary friend of one of my longtime best friends. I don't know her backstory and don’t really have the authority to mention much else besides the fact that she was another frequent character of our made up plot)

SECTION G: The comics “ a snippet” 

This part will have an entirely different post dedicated to it, there are as many layers to the lore of the comics are there are to Frank’s story. I will try to be as brief as possible. 

At the ages of 9 to11, I started to draw little mini comics on Index cards. They would be about little caricatures of my friends and I, and other little characters we made up. The line between these comic stories and reality often blurred when we were playing around. Frank was never explicitly depicted in the comics, but only because (by technical terms) he was unable to be perceived by most. Drawing him would give away a bit of the mystery and fun of it. Unfortunately any mention of him in the comics is lost to time, as most of the physical comic cards were destroyed or lost in the incident of 2018. 

There were hundreds of these little cards, and he was included (by mention or crudely drawn shapes to allude to his form) in roughly 10 of them maybe?

SECTION H: CULTURAL IMPACT 2

I was 11-12, at the peak of Frank Knowbodie fame and impact, I was very active online. Forums, blogs, YouTube, you name it. It was time to make Frank Knowbodie an internet persona. 

Tumblr account, a Roblox account, multiple emails, A twitter, a YouTube channel, A Google Plus (RIP) were all created and dedicated to Frank. Most of these are now defunct, save for maybe the Roblox and emails. 

I remember I would post on these accounts playing as Frank. If you used to follow my original tumblr you might remember a few of my posts. I remember going on Omegle and trying to get people to follow the Frank Knowbodie accounts and understand the stories. Most of these attempts fell through unfortunately (or fortunately) and the content is lost to time. 

Section I: The Disney World Incident

There were so many different little skits and situations we placed Frank & his companions in, I couldn't possible list them all, so I will mention one of the most prominent.

In 6th grade, [REDACTED] asked a beloved friend and I to Disney world for a birthday gift, which we agreed and happily went along, with Frank trailing along as usual. 

Then... the incident. We were on splash mountain and forgot Frank on the ride. The thing was, he couldn’t ask to get out, as no one could see him. He was stuck on in infinite loop on the ride, for One Whole Year. He ate popcorn and snacks that others (that could see him) threw at him. That was the extent of it, and eventually he made his was off, and entered 7th grade with us. 

Section J: 7th grade, and Carter “a snippet”

7th grade is seen as a turning point for me and all of my friends at the time. My personal friend group turned from a trio to a quintet (kind of) to a duo and sometimes a trio again. Middle school drama caused a lot of divides, both willing and unwillingly, some of my friends and I grew apart in the years following 6th grade. But not to get too ahead of myself. 

[REDACTED] and I changed a great deal in the summer following 6th grade. I still lugged around my giant sketchbook with loads of comics and doodles when we returned in August. She on the other hand was... different, it was probably for the best, as her “true self” was revealed more and more. What does this have to do with Frank? Well she was the largest contributor to his story behind me, she started to reject our “childish” skits and games. It broke my heart a little, because I loved my stories, and I (we) were still 12, I didn’t want to grow up and stop making that kind of stuff. 

I remember one conversation, when another classmate mentioned/asked Frank, and she seemed very embarrassed and judgmental, as she nervously laughed and quickly made an impromptu joking story along the lines of “Oh, haha yeah he got expelled!” or something. She brushed it off so she wouldn’t have to face her past embarrassments while giving me a sideways glace. She was too good for it then, there was no creative fire to her story, she had a tone of voice, and look on her face that reminded me of all of my older cousins who judged and cringed at me for acting like a kid. 

So... Carter... Well in 7th grade, another beloved friend of mine had a faulty iPad. When she would tap or try to interact with it, it would let out a terrifying high-pitched shrill. So being an edgy little fuck, and also a 12 year old who loved storytelling, my friends and I called this phenomenon “Carter”. Carter was a tech-demon, who inhabited (mostly modern) technology and haunted people via the internet. 

Originally Carter’s appearance was a grey-skinned demon, with red eyes and “glitchy” wings. A pretty basic appearance for any preteen OC design. 

Later though, my older sister helped me tweak his design, he was primarily blue themed, no wings, but he had a tail with a more sci-fi ‘vibe’. 

Carter’s backstory changed over the years, but the general consensus was that  he died via some sort of technology/internet related incident in the late 90s-early 2000s . He was stuck between the human and demon world, cursed to roam eternity alone, and not visible to humans. He would go on to spook people through their devices for sport, until he traveled to my friend’s iPad, and met Frank& Friends. Frank & his family/friends are able to see him, because of some ancient deal between demons and the ancestors of the No Mexico citizens (It’s a stretch I KNOW, but all of this is pretty far fetched, and again, I was 12). Carter becomes close friends with Frank, and was very appreciative of him because he is the first person in years to show him kindness. At the time, I was a spiteful closeted kid, and I knew making Frank canonically have a crush on Carter would piss off [REDACTED], as I had suspicions that she was homophobic. (Spoiler, she was very subtlety homophobic in 8th grade and later in highschool it was kind of confirmed that she was) 

At the time I was first dipping into what would later develop into my current drawing style, and I loved to draw Carter and Frank. 

However, these drawings, and Carter’s creation, was a silent signal to the closing of Frank’s story, and my childhood as I knew it. 

SECTION K: The End of An Era, and the Impact of One Beloved Childhood Character. 

After 7th grade, my life got increasingly complicated. Friends moved on, I started to create new stories, my old comics collected dust under my bed, and Frank became a sweet memory of happier times. 

I had to move on (reluctantly), and “face reality” according to most people around me. Years past, I started highschool, and forced myself to grow up, giving up my “childish tendencies”. I doodled Frank maybe twice since I was 12, but never really looked back until now. I think at first Frank was a joke of course, but as I developed his story, he was more of a projection of my complex 11 year old thoughts and feelings. 

There was a time at 14 where I avoided mentioning him, I became what I hated, I was just like [REDACTED], I hated my younger self for acting like a kid and doing what made me happy. I threw away mass amounts of comics and trinkets I made, I was terrified of being seen as a awkward kid. I regret it now, I know know I was a young kid who was hurting so deeply from growing up, who was so scared of it. It was such a silly thing too, to hate myself for something so simple. 

I owe so much to Frank in a way. Him and his story paved a way for me today, to make my current stories and characters, more complex of course, but I still owe it all. I don't deny myself anymore, he taught me over the years that I don’t have to hide my true self, from [REDACTED] or anyone else.  As I enter senior year soon, I am so grateful for my past and the fun I has while it lasted. Its like that one stupid saying, although it’s a joke, there is a funny little truth to it. “Don’t kill the part of you that is cringe, kill the part of you that cringes.”

[biofunmy]

Tech Products We Tried And Loved In 2018

As tech and business reporters at BuzzFeed News, we love consuming stuff. This year, our obsessions weren’t limited to the buzziest new gadgets (we recommend LAST year’s iPhone, and the Facebook Portal is conspicuously absent from this list). We were also into all sorts of new apps, fun social media accounts, productivity hacks, and even just ways to…disconnect from technology. (Reading books! Doing jigsaw puzzles!) And yes, we also enjoyed weed vape pens.

Here are all the things that the BuzzFeed Tech and Business team tried this year and wholeheartedly recommends.

1.

Customizing my PopSockets to show my cats’ faces — $15 each

I don’t need to go into all the ways that PopSockets greatly improve your life; my colleague Katie has already done that, naming it as her favorite tech thing of 2017 and talking about it nonstop all of last year. (I should know. I sit next to her in the BuzzFeed newsroom.)

Long story short, Katie convinced me too, but I took it a step even further by customizing my PopSockets with my cats’ faces. This is an easy thing. You basically take a picture of your beloved pet (or pets), photoshop out the background, and head over to the PopSocket “customizer” page. A pair cost me only $30. And you can switch out the design by popping off the top, so both Laser Beam and Vivienne get play on my phone.

Yes, this is something I show off to people at parties, frequently and obnoxiously. But now you can be that person too! Also, I’m planning to get a friend of ours a customized PopSocket with the face of his girlfriend on it as a prank Christmas gift. It’s gonna be great.

—Davey Alba

I don’t get why people like PopSockets. They are extremely uncool and bulky. Since I have a deep-seated fear of developing iPhone claw hand and a long history of dropping my phone and shattering screens (my claim to fame is that Bella Hadid and I go to the same screen repair place), I needed to find something that allowed me to hold my phone with my fingers but wasn’t totally lame. I noticed that my friend’s cool German mom was using a sleek iPhone strap at dinner one night, and I ordered one on Amazon for $2.50 less than a standard PopSocket. It lays completely flat and is the perfect size for my middle and ring finger. While I hear that PopSockets constantly break, my sturdy phone strap has never failed me. One time, a stranger on the subway asked me where I got it! I am a trendsetter.

—Maggie Schultz

The thing everyone asks me when I wear my computer glasses is: Do those things work? Well, if by “work,” you mean, “Do they make me look smart and cool?” — then yes. They work great. Do they actually do anything to protect my eyes from blue light? Idk, the science is fuzzy here.

I’ve been blessed with perfect vision, and I don’t need prescription glasses of any kind. But I’ve also been cursed with looking great in glasses! What’s a gal like me to do? Wearing fake glasses with no prescription is embarrassing; it’s something a mall emo teen would do. Computer glasses allow me all the glory of wearing “real” glasses without any visual impairment requirements!

The only downside is they have a slight blue tint, which makes them look different from actual glasses. But it’s probably not that noticeable, so I’m able to walk around looking like a certified genius while still maintaining my idiot lifestyle.

There are fancier versions of these glasses, and maybe those lenses actually do a better job of protecting your eyes. But I was in the market for something cheap, and Amazon had lots of styles under $25. I got a second pair for about $15 in pink plastic frames as well.

—Katie Notopoulos

4.

Dosist pen — $40–$100 on Eaze (availability based on local state law)

I’m 46 and, frankly, I don’t want to get too high. Or arrested. Or smoke dope that’s been treated with something I use to drive my Honda. I don’t want to get blasted or brain-hammered. I have shit to do! But every once in a while I do like to, you know, take the edge off of life?

This is why I like the Dosist pen vape. It’s a self-contained oil vaporizer that delivers a measured dose of THC and CBD as you inhale, and then vibrates to let you know to stop. There are various “formulas” with different THC to CBD ratios, and other terpenes, designed to deliver specific types of highs. (I like Bliss.) It’s also reusable. When empty, you can bring it back to a store that sells them for a $5 deposit. Plus it’s available from various on-demand delivery services, such as Eaze, so you can have it at your door within about 10 minutes of deciding you need to, uh, unwind. Not bad!

—Mat Honan

5.

Infinite content feeds that aren’t social media — various prices

2018 was the year I embraced the continuous scroll and the back catalogue. Long live the podcast feed, the extended playlist, and the audiobook. There were too many moments in 2017 when I was browsing Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram and asked myself, “What am I doing here? How have two hours passed? Is this why I can’t finish a book?” or exclaimed, “Holyshiteverythingissobad!” I was receding-hairline-deep in inane and stressful content, a condition that only encouraged stress and self-loathing. I needed a change.

So did I really listen to two years’ worth of Who? Weekly, a gossip podcast about C-list celebrities? The alternative was reading more Twitter takes about how and why the Russia investigation wound torturously on, so you fucking bet I did! Did I stream Abba’s entire discography on Spotify? It distracted me from the hellfires shrouding my apartment in ash, so I sure did! Was listening to 37 hours of The Brothers Karamazov‘s intellectual Russian family drama better than clicking on three gay thirst trap accounts in a row? YES.

—Blake Montgomery

Tabs. I tend to have a lot of them. As of writing this, I have 67 open across six windows, and many I don’t even remember clicking. There’s that big New York Times exposé on Donald Trump’s tax schemes, which I got halfway through before I was probably distracted by something dumb and meaningless on Twitter. There’s a friend’s 10,000-word essay I promised myself I’d read eventually. And there are three tabs of stale Twitter feeds I forgot to exit out of.

Tabs are the most obvious byproduct of my internet attention deficit disorder, the online exoskeletons of things my addled mind was interested in for about 10 minutes until a new shiny notification fluttered across my screen. Compared to others, my problem is probably mild. A colleague, whom I’ll leave unnamed, confided to me the other day that he had 2,193 tabs that he’s archived with an online tool. [Editor’s note: BuzzFeed News does NOT endorse Ryan’s tab strategy; it will slow your computer to a crawl.]

I have yet to download a tab manager — it’d probably just feed my habit — but I have found something else to cope with my issue. Audm, an iPhone app, streams audio read aloud by professional narrators of longform articles from outlets including the Atlantic, the New Yorker, and BuzzFeed News. Priced comparably with a newspaper or magazine subscription at $7.99 a month, Audm is perfect for long commutes and vacation road trips. Stories, of which there are more than 1,000 on the app, run anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 hours, and they sound exactly like a well-done audiobook. The content is also surprisingly fresh, with releases timed to magazine publication dates or within a few days of a story appearing online.

While the app is buggy (it takes a full minute to load and crashes about three times before I can get a working stream), it’s worth the wait. It’s transformed my morning train rides from a constant refreshing of Twitter, email, and Slack to one where I’m able to catch up on a subject I actually wanted to read about, a distraction from the distractions. And the best part is, when I get to work, I’m finally able to X out of one those tabs that I forgot about a few months ago.

—Ryan Mac

7.

@_personals_ Instagram

I spend way too many nights scrolling through Instagram until I finally fall asleep. Some of my favorite posts are the ads on @_personals_, an Instagram-based dating community for queers. The account is inspired by old-school newspaper personals, and it’s so damn good.

The way it works: The small group running the account holds an open call for ad submissions and asks for a $5 donation. Throughout that month, the account posts the ads, including a cute emoji and the submitter’s Instagram handle so interested people can get in touch.

Here’s a sampling of the ads:

“Androfemme lesbian boy-child seeks co-collaborator in all things to eventually farm sheep, write books, & build a house with.”

“22/aries/tiny faggy nb boy iso non-monog partners for crafts & crafty fucking”

“25,enby femme. Half puppy half little. Bottom bitch. Lives to please but bratty & will make you earn it. Ask my mami. I’m worth it.”

“Wry & romantic, reserved (not timid) femme into questioning, clumsily cooking with patient people, & song. Actual tragic for musos, gentle tradies, & enthusiastic nerds.”

And all of this was posted just in the last week! I was introduced to this account to expand my dating options. But now I mainly read this account for the prose.

—Leticia Miranda

For the last few months, my world has been dark. It started when Apple added a new feature in the latest version of its Mac operating system that switches all menus and other parts of the user interface to blacks and grays. This makes it easier to look at your computer at night or in a dark room without squinting. Eventually I got so used to the look that all bright colors on any screen made my eyes hurt.

Fortunately, more and more tech companies seem to be building a “Dark Mode” into their products, and I’ve since switched to it on all the apps I use the most: on Instapaper to catch up on my reading, on Twitter when I’m scrolling through my timeline for hours, on the Kindle app to read books, on YouTube, and on Reddit, which added it earlier this year. Last week, I installed Dark Reader, a Chrome extension that makes all web pages dark by default, and a dark theme for Chrome that makes the browser’s tabs jet black.

Most of us can’t help being chained to our screens for unhealthy amounts of time each day, but turning on dark mode wherever possible is a tiny luxury we should all indulge in.

—Pranav Dixit

9.

Headspace — $95.88/year subscription

For most of my life, hearing people talk about meditation would conjure up New Age visions of crossed legs and om-ing and marathon stretches of Nirvana-achieving trances. From afar, it seemed like an activity that required endless hours of devotion — more like a way of life than a healthy hobby. So to say I was extremely skeptical of app-based meditation would’ve been an understatement. At worst, it sounded like a scam; at best, a bastardization of a sacred kind of ritual.

I was wrong. A friend introduced me to Headspace after a conversation we had about productivity — specifically, how I’d found it nearly impossible to focus and structure my days without jumping haphazardly from tab to tab in my browser. And how I’d end even my best days feeling frazzled, detached, and legitimately unsure of what I’d just accomplished. On their advice, I bought myself a year’s subscription in order to incentivize actually creating a routine. I chose the Basics tutorial and tried a couple of five-minute sessions.

Unsurprisingly for a mindfulness app, the introduction to meditation is very calming and gentle. I learned that I’d been mostly wrong about the entire practice — devoting just 10 or 20 minutes a day (or whenever you have some downtime) can pay dividends quickly and improve focus. And the app — despite some corny animations — is full of guided, unguided, and semi-guided sessions that you can tailor to your day (helping to fall asleep, unwinding at the end of the day, focus before or after a workout, or just taking a breather).

I’m still no guru and I’ll admit I’ve struggled to sit down with Headspace reliably every day. But when I do, it’s immediately satisfying and is maybe the only thing on my phone that makes me feel good. The app-based part, of which I’d been so skeptical, is actually the part I find most essential in that it helps me take a few minutes for myself during random bits of downtime. It’s technology that introduces a little friction and reflection into my life, and for that I’m thankful.

—Charlie Warzel

10.

/remind command in Slack

You can set a bot to remind you of anything by just typing a command. It’s like having a personal assistant in the future, and it’s great for someone like me, who never leverages to-do lists or calendars to their full potential. You can set these reminders hours, days, or even weeks in advance by just typing a command. So for example, if I know I need to mail something when I get to work but am afraid I’ll forget to take it out of my backpack, I just set a Slack reminder for about 10 minutes after I expect to arrive at the office, and it reminds me to do it!

—Caroline O’Donovan

11.

Cutting the cord — Savings: $125.79/month

I can’t believe how long I let my cable company pump cash from my bank account. The last time I got a bill from Spectrum was in March. It was $208.26 for a “Triple Play” bundle: allegedly “fast and reliable” internet, cable (with HBO and DVR), and a fucking landline that I never even bothered to get a phone for. This package, according to a dubious customer service rep, was inexplicably cheaper than just ordering internet and cable separately without the unused landline, and it was the lowest price they could offer me, a customer of 10 years. Shit, right? The point had clearly arrived in my life when I had to decide whether I was willing to pay $2,499.12 a year to mindlessly flip through a-hundred-something channels when I was too bored to do anything else. But lame habits die hard, and it was comforting to know that I could always pull up some channel playing Friends reruns at the end of a long day. After painstakingly convincing my husband that he’d still have access to his precious, vital, life-sustaining ESPN through any number of streaming services, we made the irreversible leap to the land of the cordless, and my GOD, it has been wonderful.

We rebuilt our media habitat like this:

– An internet-only account on Verizon for $42.48 per month

– The cheapest Sling TV subscription (it has my essentials like CNN, Comedy Central, HGTV, BBC America for those great animal series, and TBS for Friends reruns, as well as ESPN for hubby) for $25 per month, and it came with a free Roku

– An HBO Now account that’s $14.99 per month

We also got a digital antenna for $14.99 plus tax, a one-time cost. There’s less content, but there hasn’t been a microsecond when I thought, Man, there’s not enough to watch. In fact, I might even say the quality of my media consumption has slightly improved since we cut the cord, as there are fewer channels that lure me into hours of accidental, regretful viewing. My programming has become more intentional. And the Roku universe is full of apps for free content like YouTube (and, ahem, BuzzFeed) and PBS Kids for my toddler. The free Roku Channel also has a boatload of free movies — not new releases, but stuff like Brooklyn, The Fighter, Spaceballs, and Braveheart: things you might have previously watched on DVD.

So I went from paying $208.26 per month to veg out with my TV to paying $82.47 to veg out with my TV. I am a step closer to entertainment enlightenment, my friends. As for the math: I’m saving $125.79 a month; which adds up to $1,509.48 per year! I intend on taking my family on a low-key getaway with this money, which is definitely going to be more memorable than 200 hours of MTV. I know people will ask “But what about DVR?” (it’s an extra $5 a month on Sling) and “Won’t all the streaming services you get to replace cable add up?” (it depends entirely on what you need, but a lot of my friends who have cable are ALSO paying for HBO or Netflix or Hulu already, so we’re possibly all oversubscribed). If there are cable-only programs that really add value to your life, then by all means, keep the cord and stay happy — I’ve just found that isn’t the case for me.

It’s possible that one day we’ll all be so dependent on cordless services that they will find ways to force customers to subscribe to bloated media packages. But for now, what’s not to love?

—Venessa Wong

12.

Buying last year’s model iPhone X (256GB edition) – $710

This year, I decided to switch from my Android back to an iPhone. I fly a lot to visit my parents in the Philippines, so I loved the cheap, convenient international coverage my Pixel’s Google’s Project Fi offered me ($10 per 1GB of data plus $20 for unlimited calls and texts!). But I missed the easy compatibility of the iPhone with other gadgets in my home, like my finicky Vizio soundbar.

But another difficult decision awaited me because 2018 was the year when choosing an iPhone became confusing as hell. The new iPhone XR’s upgrades were minimal compared to last year’s X, but the phone got wildly more expensive. So I got a used iPhone X (for a great deal, I might add) on the website Swappa.

My colleague Nicole Nguyen convinced me to make this call in her (excellent) iPhone XR review. Basically, a used iPhone X checks all the boxes in terms of positive qualities: It’s small-hand-friendly, has a super high-res screen, extra zoom, portrait mode, and is less than $1,000 to boot.

And hey, I was glad to hear some year-end 2018 news that aligns well with my choice: In November, Google renamed Project Fi to “Google Fi,” and announced that it would soon support a lot more phones, including my iPhone X. Huzzah!

—Davey Alba

13.

@girlshredclips Instagram

Back when I was a little girl living in the middle of nowhere and roaming around my rural town (population: 125) on my skateboard, I couldn’t have imagined that there were other girls who liked skating as much as I did. Anything I ever found online or in Thrasher magazine featured boys. Yes, there was occasionally Elissa Streamer, generally considered to be the first woman skater to go pro, and there were always bikini babes… but I couldn’t relate much to Ms. Streamer (more badass than I could ever hope to be), and I certainly was not a bikini babe. I never saw another skater like me (which is maybe not a surprise, considering how rarely I saw other people at all back then).

Now I’m a grown woman in a big city and skating less often than I used to, but my heart skips a beat anytime a post from @girlshredclips, @meowskateboards, or @skatelikeagirlsfbay pops up on my Instagram feed. Holy shit, these girls can shred.

Some are just little kids, some are my age, some are moms. Although they all skate better than me, I can see myself in them — past, present, and future — and it delights me to think that skater girls growing up in 2018 have plenty of relatable examples to keep in mind whenever some dude tells them that they’re posers. Yes, the internet can be a facilitator of chaos; Instagram and the other social media platforms can sometimes make you feel like you have a garbage life. But lady skater Instagram accounts bring me joy every day. (Pro tip: Unfollow people who make you feel bad about yourself; follow a few women who shred instead.)

—Samantha Oltman

When I go to a bar, I want to be able to hang out with friends and just, you know, talk to them at a normal human volume. But many food and drink establishments are so dang loud that you end up gesturing at, instead of conversing with, people. That’s why I am very into the free Soundprint app, which is only available for iOS but also has a website version. Soundprint publishes a list of quiet places in major cities, including New York, San Francisco, Philadelphia, and Las Vegas.

The Soundprint app shows you an average noise rating in decibels of the restaurants, bars, and coffee shops near you. The app calculates the rating based on “SoundCheck” submissions from users who allow the app to access their iPhone’s microphone to measure how loud the environment is. According to the app, a red rating (over 81 decibels) means a place is so loud that long exposure can cause hearing loss — and there are over a dozen establishments within a square mile of our office that fit that profile! Anyway, if you, like me, are a grumpy curmudgeon, this app is great if you want to find a quiet place to chat.

—Nicole Nguyen

The best thing to happen to my cat in 2018 was Mousr, a small, wheeled, AI robo-mouse he has embraced in a Milo and Otis kind of way — if Otis was a cat toy and Milo was a cat hellbent on its destruction. This is in no way an exaggeration. My cat has developed an almost pathological addiction to “Mr. Roboto,” which uses a small array of cameras, a “time-of-flight” sensor, and some other whiz-bang tech to convince him that it’s an actual mouse. Watching my cat playing with Mousr is like watching one of those slow-motion YouTube videos of cheetahs surprise-attacking gazelles. My cat talks to Mousr — with those same sinister chattering, chirping cat-sounds that typically signal imminent murder. My cat drags Mr. Roboto off its charging station when it’s recharging. This has become such a problem that we recently moved the charging station to the top of an armoire. The other night we heard a small crash downstairs. A few minutes later, our cat came upstairs proudly dragging Mr. Roboto by one of its custom tail attachments. He mewled at us until I pulled out a phone and fired up the app, which allows for both autonomous (wander, wall-hugger, and stationary) and remote control modes. Then he stalked, captured, and mercilessly beat the absolute shit out of it (donkey kick!). Happy kitty. Mousr retails for $149, which is outrageously expensive for a cat toy. But we are probably going to invest in one anyway (ours is a loaner); frankly, I’m not sure there’s any other option. My cat would kill me.

—John Paczkowski

Instagram is by far the app I am most addicted to — sometimes I’ll be scrolling through it, close the app, look around, and mechanically reopen it like some kind of zombie. I have the timer set to 20 minutes, which means I get the alert that it’s time to stop basically every day, sometimes even first thing in the morning! But even though the pop-up message usually makes me stick my tongue out at my phone and roll my eyes, it does break the spell and remind me to do something more useful with my time, like practice Italian on Duolingo. It’s not a cure-all, but it’s a nudge in the right direction in a world where software is almost always nudging you in the wrong direction.

—Caroline O’Donovan

17.

Sonos One — $199 (currently on sale for $179)

You move into an apartment and you get a couch, kitchenware, your bed. But after all those basics are set? An essential upgrade is filling your home with sound. In the continuing hellscape year that was 2018, there was one thing I realized could shift my mood in a small but significant way: playing whatever jam I was currently obsessed with on my Sonos One.

Sure, you can just blast your fave song loudly on your laptop, which I used to do. But then I decided I was going to be the grown-ass 30-year-old woman I am and splurged on a nice-sounding speaker. I went with Sonos because it’s the wireless speaker brand that’s widely known for high-quality sound. Against the wishes of my boyfriend, I bought a Sonos One, a speaker that integrates with voice assistants like Amazon’s Alexa. My boyfriend is freaked out by the idea of an always-on mic listening for a wake word. When I brought the Sonos home, I left the mic deactivated for weeks after setting it up — but I liked to know the option to use Alexa was there if I wanted it.

Then one day… I turned it on. I didn’t tell my boyfriend, I just set up the Sonos One with Alexa when he wasn’t around, and started talking to her. Whenever he came by, I pretended I was still committed to a life lived free of voice commands. But eventually, when we were talking about some song, I just blurted out: “Alexa. Play [song].”

Look, that first reveal wasn’t pleasant, but now my boyfriend has totally come around and yells at Alexa too. “What’s the weather?” “What time is it?” “Play [podcast].” My best troll is commanding Alexa to read an excerpt of an Atavist story he wrote a few years back out loud. He narrated it, so his voice comes through the speakers; you’ve never seen anyone shout, “Alexa, STOP!” so fast.

There are times when the speaker conks out and refuses to respond to me, but you know what? It’s a lot more fun having the thing in my apartment than not. And yeah, to a certain extent, my boyfriend and I have both warmed up to having a voice-activated gadget. The Sonos One is the first and last one I’ll be getting for my home, though. I promise, Joseph.

—Davey Alba

Hosted by Jane Marie, The Dream dives into the multilevel-marketing schemes that have overrun social media. MLMs like Herbalife, Mary Kay, and Amway have been around for a while, but a whole slew of weird new female-friendly ones that sell essential oils or athletic leggings have popped up recently. I’m fascinated by the role the internet has played in their explosion. The podcast talks to people who have been burned and lost money from these schemes. It also dives into the history of how MLMs came to be so popular over the last 50 years, and how the government has failed to rein them in. My favorite episodes are when a producer signs up for a cosmetic MLM and we get to see the details of just how it tricks the sellers into buying the product, losing money outright, and selling within a closed system.

—Katie Notopoulos

19.

2013 MacBook Pro — around $500 on eBay

I’m a sucker for shiny new gadgets, but my favorite piece of tech this year was my five-year-old MacBook Pro. It’s a late 2013 model with a 13-inch display and middling innards, and it’s been the workhorse I have relied on for everything from live-blogging Apple events to reporting from remote corners of the country.

OK, so it’s got some spots across the screen. The battery only runs about five hours before it needs to be plugged in. The spaces between the keys are grubby from the time I spilled tea into the keyboard and never quite managed to get the stains out completely (I let the laptop dry and it still worked like a champ!). And one of the speaker grills is bent from the time I banged it on my bed when I was annoyed with someone on the internet.

But I wouldn’t trade this for anything else, not even for one of Apple’s modern laptops that are thinner, lighter, sexier, pricier, and full of frills like a Touch Bar that nobody asked for or keyboards that can be destroyed by a single speck of dust.

As long as I can stream Netflix and browse the web without Chrome grinding to a halt, my old Macbook Pro is all I need.

—Pranav Dixit

Biking to work is awesome. You don’t have to be face-to-armpit against complete strangers on the bus. You get a little work out. It’s good for the environment, too! What’s not awesome is how dangerous biking on crowded city streets are. I was constantly yelling, “HEY, AHGGHBLERGH” after getting cut off by drivers or pummeled by Uber/Lyft passengers that don’t look over their shoulders before opening the car door.

That is, until I got this rad bell (lol, yes — a RAD BELL) called Spurcycle. It was a birthday gift, which I highly recommend, because at $49, it’s certainly pricier than other bike bells. I like this bell because it’s really small, but it rings very loudly, for an absurdly long time. If you don’t believe me, believe the thousands of people that backed this on Kickstarter in 2013, because they too were into loud little bike bells.

The ring isn’t obnoxious, like a car alarm. It’s nice, and using it is a really lovely way to tell cars, pedestrians, and ride-hail passengers “I’M HERE!!” without having to shout “I’M HERE!!”

—Nicole Nguyen

21.

Shortcut to creating a new Google Doc

I can’t believe I didn’t know about this until just recently, until after I saw someone tweet about it. As someone who primarily works in Google Docs — I use it for all my note-taking and writing — I open new docs all the time!

The shortcut lets you skip all the usual clicks required to open a new doc. Instead, you just type this URL: http://bit.ly/2VnNPmb. But even that’s not really convenient enough. So I dragged it onto my bookmarks bar, and now I have a handy button right in the middle of my browser for NEW DOC.

—Katie Notopoulos

22.

Wireless charging pad — $4

I got my wireless charger in the most discount scenario possible: on a Sunday evening as the Black Friday weekend sales entered their desperate final hours, in a Neiman Marcus outlet store where everything was 40% off, fished out of a giant bin of extra, extra discounted garbage positioned near the registers. It was four levels deep into an Inception-style discount world, it’s some no-brand piece of suspiciously light and hollow junk, and it ended up costing like four bucks. It was the best thing I bought in 2018.

The reason why is pretty simple: The first time you just put your phone down on the table and watch it begin charging — without any plugging in or fiddling around with a cable — is a legitimately magical experience. It’s one of those moments when a thing finally works the way you always wanted it to work, even if you didn’t know you wanted it to work that way. Think of the first time you experienced a real touchscreen phone — i.e., the first time you played with an iPhone — or the first time you put in your AirPods and experienced headphones the correct way.

It’s not a coincidence that both those examples were Apple products — while the company doesn’t tend to be the first to market with a new technology, it’s typically the first to bring a good version to market. There were crappy touchscreen Nokias years before the iPhone, and Bluetooth headphones have been a thing since those dorky headsets people were wearing in the early 2000s. They were all junk, and then Apple made the Correct Thing.

Maybe that’s what’s going on with wireless chargers now, because hardly anybody seems to be using them, despite them being pretty good. Apple seems to have completely screwed up in its attempts to launch its own extremely fancy one (and maybe given up entirely?) and the result is that the market lacks a certain halo of Apple approval and encouragement. But don’t let that stop you! Even my $4 piece of crap is *fantastic*, and everyone should have a wireless charging pad sitting on their desk at work and their bedside table at home.

Start by buying the cheapest one possible to get a feel for how they work; because they don’t need to pay the Apple tax levied on anything with a Lightning connector, they’re wildly cheap — cheaper than all but the cheapest regular iPhone charging cables. Here’s a probably-perfectly-fine Anker wireless charger for $12 — the same price as a six-foot Lightning cable from Amazon Basics. What are you waiting for? You have nothing to lose but your chains.

—Tom Gara

23.

Band Memes on Instagram

If you’ve read this far, I’m going to go ahead and guess you might have been not the coolest person in your high school (no offense). Perhaps you were even like me and played in the middle school or high school band — if so, these memes will be very relatable. I have found myself strangely overjoyed to find extremely niche relatable memes that are mostly made by and for high school students, but that I, an adult, can enjoy as well. This year, I joined an adult community concert band, and I’ve been so happy to play the bassoon in a group setting again. It also gives me an excuse to revive “playing in band” as part of my Personal Brand. And as part of my Personal Brand, I deserve to enjoy these wholesome memes.

—Katie Notopoulos

I love Apple’s AirPods wireless earbuds. I think they’re among the company’s best products and a reminder that Apple still has the chops to inspire that “sense of childlike wonder” that Steve Jobs used to talk about. Problem is, I no longer use them. For whatever reason — my overly large head, my poorly designed auricles, a shitty external auditory meatus — I have difficulty keeping my AirPods in my ears, or getting the type of fit that delivers good sound. I do not have this problem with Master & Dynamic’s MW07 True Wireless Earphones. They have detachable “Silicone Fit Wings,” which slot them securely into my outer ear, and they sound fucking fantastic. In fact, they are by far the best-sounding buds I’ve used. And they’d better be because they cost $299 (double Airpods’ $149). This is perhaps because they feature “custom 10mm high-performance Beryllium drivers,” are cloaked in “handcrafted acetate,” and come with a hefty stainless steel charging case (14 hours of additional charge) that might break a toe were you to drop it on one. I don’t need or care about any of those things. But as a big-headed, recovering audiophile, I am happy to pay for them if it means my earbuds will stay in my ears and reliably play “Master of Puppets” into them with solid sonic accuracy.

—John Paczkowski

In August, my wife, my dog, and I spent a weekend with friends in a rental cabin in New York’s Hudson River Valley. We planned on hiking the whole time, so of course it rained for two days straight. The options inside were limited to books, conversation, and wine — good enough for the Greeks, but not for me. I ransacked the cabinets. Scrabble, been there. Monopoly, done that. Then, at the back of the bottom shelf, I spied it: a jigsaw puzzle. And not any jigsaw puzzle, but a 1,000-piece warhorse from the bad boys at Ravensburger. When completed, “The Sanctuary of Knowledge” depicts an old couple reading by the fire in a cavernous Baroque library as fairies fly around them. (I took the fairies to be a metaphor for the magic of reading.) I’m like any other tech-addled thirtysomething (i.e., delayed gratification averse) but something about this wee old couple and their whimsical retirement made me want to dump the box out and get to work. So I did! — to the polite ambivalence of my friends.

I didn’t finish it. I got about a quarter of the way there and then we had to leave. But those few hours I spent matching shades of brown for the inlays on the vaulted shelves felt, I don’t know, therapeutic? Meditative? Purposeful? The puzzle didn’t come with an app or a leaderboard; it didn’t want to know anything about me or my friends; it couldn’t tell me the weather. Instead, it drew my mind and my fingers into a soothing little loop, never popping up with notifications, never leading me to other puzzles that secretly advocate for fascism, always with a discrete ending in sight. Good for me! I thought at the time, the completion of one-fourth of a moderately challenging puzzle was proof that there was still some gray matter left between the internet-sized holes in my brain. Bully for puzzles!

I ordered “The Sanctuary of Knowledge” on the car ride home. I’m saving it for a rainy day.

—Joseph Bernstein

Sahred From Source link Business

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[storyunrelated]

Top Of The World - Eusos

Yes yes more of this. I come in waves. I attach onto things and get super-intense then get bored and drift away. A weakness! But just how I operate.

Anyway, Eusos.

Just dicks, basically. An antagonistic force with no sympathetic features. At least in my eyes.

They likely need some polishing to really get them down but really they just exist as a vessel for to exercise my distaste in a certain way of thinking and acting.

And we see below them being described and a little of them in action.

Not that anyone seeing this gives a fuck.

“I’ll admit that my Order is perhaps one of the more whimsical - often seen as a soft option! Though all in good fun of course. A more relaxing posting than some others I could mention, certainly! Those Orders working far down South, the ones that spend their days fighting the Eusos - I surely don’t envy them!”

Mari thought she heard a scientist squeal in excitement.

“Who?”

“Ah! How little you know of the world! It’s quite charming. How cosy your lives must be here! Eusos - Eusocials! Ghastly bunch of people and no mistake. Horrible. Have a worldview built upon subsuming the individual for the good of the whole, which then exists solely to cling onto life for another day. Living for the sake of living! Humanity debased into little more than a spreading patch of mold with no concept of enjoyment or real comprehension. Frighteningly prolific though. Thousand and thousands of the poor souls! Millions, even. Empty eyes, empty smiles, striving for nothing but the spread of themselves and the eradication of anything they can’t absorb. No fun to fight at all. No sport at all! No sense of the theatrical!”

“Never heard of them,” said Mari, who was semi-confident that the warrior was just lying. They’d sounded just as bombastic and self-assured about everything else they’d said but here she found herself just unable to really believe it. If there was really something like that out there she would have heard about it. Seen some sign of it by now. Surely.

The warrior just shrugged.

“I am not surprised. You are far away from them here, thankfully. Myself and my Order do still catch the occasional scout sent up here for a probe or to worry the wildlife much to our chagrin, but they seem too busy to act as of right now. You should count yourselves lucky for this! Were my fellows not unhappily engaged in their war of containment you would have the Eusos here within weeks! Bringing peace with them.”

“Peace doesn’t sound so bad…” Mari said. It might mean being able to go outside the city being armed. For a change of pace.

The Vreth tried to shake their head, failed for obvious reasons, stopped, and settled instead on wagging their finger.

“Not this peace, I assure you! You have not been there. You have not seen it. Have not felt it stamping out all trace of the human spark wherever it finds it. More, you have not lived a life! You are young by the standards of your people. This I know. You have not seen life. Not understood it. Life is struggle and suffering, this is constant. Around the edges and through the gaps is where humanity thrives. Without this - living instead under an imposed, all-smothering ‘peace’ - where is life supposed to exist? You’re left with a hollow imitation. Better to be dead.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Most normal people are quite fond of peace.”

The warrior rose and Mari stumbled back despite herself. All the guards stepped forward. The cell hummed into an active state. Scientists huddled back. The agent, as ever, didn’t do anything at all.

“What use is peace if there is not enough humanity in you to appreciate it? We wage our war to contain the Eusos and they do not even have the capacity to understand it. We kill legion upon legion of them and they never so much as blink. Spending life as a resource. A number in an equation. You and those in your city would be enraged, would be desperate for change, would seethe with very human passion. They count their dead and send more, the same way they calculate the number of eggs laid in a coop. There is no distinction in them for anything. War, peace, life and death are all as one to them. Everything is numbers. Everything settles to the mean. The best average. None of them question this. None are even capable anymore. An unbroken chain approached with a singular will and a purpose that only ever grows, never understands why. Everything the same shade. Everything just a problem to be solved. Just a number in a column to be balanced against. A rating to remove the teeth out of whatever might be behind it. A statistic to bleed the life out of the world and make it safe.”

The warrior banged on the glass and spidery cracks spread across its surface. An alarm tripped. The high-voltage discharged that snapped out at the moment of impact didn’t even seem to be noticed. Some of the guards were shouting now, and no-one seemed to know what to do.

“Everything that makes life worth living is anathema to them! The flesh of the individual is a tool to serve the many. Oh, you cannot imagine their farms, little one. The farms where flesh is made to serve. It is truly a sight. And to what end? Just so there can be MORE. Always more, always growing, always outwards. Never, ever turning inwards to wonder why. They were born with the gift of everything it is to be human, to be able to grapple with life and make the most of it, and they turned away. They gave up on this choice. They embraced fear and cut away everything that made them capable of more.”

Lots more people with guns appeared, these ones in full armour with exo-rigs on. A few of them were wearing proper, combat-grade exo-rigs as well. The scientists had left the room, though Mari hadn’t seen how they’d got out.

The warrior seemed to realise they had been shouting and looked at their balled fists.

“Oh dear. I’m terribly sorry, my temper seems to have got the best of me there.”

And this is them doing whatever:

“Initial observations,” Force Leader Prime said. Not a question. Eusos, as a rule, didn’t ask many.

“The stampede achieved results above what was expected,” said the Scout.

“This is good.”

“Yes. Here is the report on the damage the scouts were able to observe.”

The Scout handed over the report. The Force Leader Prime took it.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

The report was neatly typed. A soft-copy had also been sent to the Force Leader Prime’s console. It described in as much detail as could be seen the effect the stampede had had. The Force Leader Prime read it. The results were above expected. This was good.

“Thank for you for this report. It is good that results were greater than expected,” the Force Leader Prime said.

“The scouts suffered casualties,” said the Scout.

“Yes.”

“Three wounded, two beyond possibility of timely recovery and so euthanized. Twelve dead.”

Twelve dead not including the two that had been euthanized. So fourteen corpses in total. But this was a given and didn’t need explaining to the Force Leader Prime. They’d already shuffled around the correct tallies both on their strategic organisation console and in their head.

“Cause,” They asked. In  Euso sort of a way.

“Nine deaths and all the wounded from Vrethbeasts. Six drowned.”

Details of how this had managed to happen were irrelevant. It had happened. That was all that mattered. Curiosity was a personal failing and Eusos didn’t suffer from it. The world was just a series of problems that needed practical, lasting solutions. Curiosity made you gasp with wonder and astonishment, which wasn’t much help when you needed to work out the best way to make something useful to you and how you could best quantify it.

“Thank you,” said the Force Leader Prime.

“Thank you,” said the Scout, who left, having done what they’d come to do.

Briefly, the Force Leader Prime fed the updated information in the Expeditionary Force’s spreadsheet.

Ideally they would have lost no scouts, because then they would have had more to use later, and now they would need more equipment. Some of the equipment had been time and resource-intensive to manufacture, and therefore of some value. But the loss projections had taken things like this into account. So everything was fine. The numbers were comfortable.

Everything was fine. Going according to plan. No unseen deviations. As it should be.

Seeing as how there was nothing further to take care of, the Force Leader Prime washed and went to sleep.

In exactly five hours they would wake up again, and the plan would continue.

Blah blah fucking blah.

I'm going off to watch Solo with my mum.

[takenews-blog1]

The sunshine and darkish of AI-powered smartphones

New Post has been published on https://takenews.net/the-sunshine-and-darkish-of-ai-powered-smartphones/

The sunshine and darkish of AI-powered smartphones

Analyst Gartner put out a 10-strong listicle this week figuring out what it dubbed “high-impact” makes use of for AI-powered options on smartphones that it suggests will allow machine distributors to supply “extra worth” to prospects through the medium of “extra superior” consumer experiences.

It’s additionally predicting that, by 2022, a full 80 per cent of smartphones shipped can have on-device AI capabilities, up from simply 10 per cent in 2017.

Extra on-device AI may lead to higher knowledge safety and improved battery efficiency, in its view — as a consequence of information being processed and saved regionally. At the least that’s the top-line takeout.

Its full listing of apparently attractive AI makes use of is introduced (verbatim) under.

However within the pursuits of presenting a extra balanced narrative round automation-powered UXes we’ve included some various ideas after every listed merchandise which think about the character of the worth trade being required for smartphone customers to faucet into these touted ‘AI smarts’ — and thus some potential drawbacks too.

1)   “Digital Me” Sitting on the Machine

“Smartphones will likely be an extension of the consumer, able to recognising them and predicting their subsequent transfer. They may perceive who you’re, what you need, once you need it, the way you need it achieved and execute duties upon your authority.”

“Your smartphone will monitor you all through the day to be taught, plan and remedy issues for you,” mentioned Angie Wang, precept analysis analyst at Gartner. “It’ll leverage its sensors, cameras and knowledge to perform these duties routinely. For instance, within the related dwelling, it may order a vacuum bot to scrub when the home is empty, or flip a rice cooker on 20 minutes earlier than you arrive.”

Hiya stalking-as-a-service. Is that this ‘digital me’ additionally going to whisper sweetly that it’s my ‘primary fan’ because it pervasively surveils my each transfer with a purpose to style a digital body-double that ensnares my free will inside its algorithmic black field… 

  Or is it simply going to be actually annoyingly dangerous at attempting to foretell precisely what I would like at any given second, as a result of, y’know, I’m a human not a digital paperclip (no, I’m not writing a fucking letter).  

Oh and who’s guilty when the AI’s decisions not solely aren’t to my liking however are a lot worse? Say the AI despatched the robo vacuum cleaner over the youngsters’ ant farm once they had been away in school… is the AI additionally going to clarify to them the rationale for his or her pets’ demise? Or what if it activates my empty rice cooker (after I forgot to prime it up) — at finest pointlessly expending power, at worst enthusiastically burning down the home.

We’ve been informed that AI assistants are going to get actually good at understanding and serving to us actual quickly for a very long time now. However until you need to do one thing easy like play some music, or one thing slim like discover a new piece of comparable music to hearken to, or one thing primary like order a staple merchandise from the Web, they’re nonetheless much more fool than savant. 

2)   Consumer Authentication

“Password-based, easy authentication is turning into too advanced and fewer efficient, leading to weak safety, poor consumer expertise, and a excessive value of possession. Safety know-how mixed with machine studying, biometrics and consumer behaviour will enhance usability and self-service capabilities. For instance, smartphones can seize and be taught a consumer’s behaviour, reminiscent of patterns once they stroll, swipe, apply stress to the telephone, scroll and kind, with out the necessity for passwords or energetic authentications.”

Extra stalking-as-a-service. No safety with out whole privateness give up, eh? However will I get locked out of my very own units if I’m panicking and never behaving like I ‘usually’ do — say, for instance, as a result of the AI turned on the rice cooker once I was away and I arrived dwelling to seek out the kitchen in flames. And can I be unable to forestall my machine from being unlocked on account of it taking place to be held in my arms — despite the fact that I would really need it to stay locked in any explicit given second as a result of units are private and conditions aren’t all the time predictable. 

And what if I need to share entry to my cellular machine with my household? Will additionally they should strip bare in entrance of its all-seeing digital eye simply to be granted entry? Or will this AI-enhanced multi-layered biometric system find yourself making it tougher to share units between family members? As has certainly been the case with Apple’s shift from a fingerprint biometric (which permits a number of fingerprints to be registered) to a facial biometric authentication system, on the iPhone X (which doesn’t help a number of faces being registered)? Are we simply alleged to chalk up the gradual goodnighting of machine communality as one other notch in ‘the value of progress’?

three)   Emotion Recognition

“Emotion sensing programs and affective computing enable smartphones to detect, analyse, course of and reply to individuals’s emotional states and moods. The proliferation of digital private assistants and different AI-based know-how for conversational programs is driving the necessity to add emotional intelligence for higher context and an enhanced service expertise. Automotive producers, for instance, can use a smartphone’s entrance digital camera to know a driver’s bodily situation or gauge fatigue ranges to extend security.”

No trustworthy dialogue of emotion sensing programs is feasible with out additionally contemplating what advertisers may do in the event that they gained entry to such hyper-sensitive temper knowledge. On that matter Fb provides us a transparent steer on the potential dangers — final yr leaked inside paperwork advised the social media big was touting its potential to crunch utilization knowledge to establish emotions of teenage insecurity as a promoting level in its advert gross sales pitches. So whereas sensing emotional context would possibly counsel some sensible utility that smartphone customers might welcome and revel in, it’s additionally probably extremely exploitable and will simply really feel horribly invasive — opening the door to, say, a teen’s smartphone understanding precisely when to hit them with an advert as a result of they’re feeling low.

If certainly on-device AI means regionally processed emotion sensing programs may supply ensures they might by no means leak temper knowledge there could also be much less trigger for concern. However normalizing emotion-tracking by baking it into the smartphone UI would certainly drive a wider push for equally “enhanced” providers elsewhere — after which it could be all the way down to the person app developer (and their perspective to privateness and safety) to find out how your moods get used. 

As for vehicles, aren’t we additionally being informed that AI goes to eliminate the necessity for human drivers? Why ought to we’d like AI watchdogs surveilling our emotional state inside autos (which is able to actually simply be nap and leisure pods at that time, very similar to airplanes). A significant consumer-focused security argument for emotion sensing programs appears unconvincing. Whereas authorities companies and companies would certainly like to get dynamic entry to our temper knowledge for all types of causes…

four)   Pure-Language Understanding

“Steady coaching and deep studying on smartphones will enhance the accuracy of speech recognition, whereas higher understanding the consumer’s particular intentions. For example, when a consumer says “the climate is chilly,” relying on the context, his or her actual intention could possibly be “please order a jacket on-line” or “please flip up the warmth.” For example, natural-language understanding could possibly be used as a close to real-time voice translator on smartphones when touring overseas.”

Whereas we will all certainly nonetheless dream of getting our personal private babelfish — even given the cautionary warning towards human hubris embedded within the biblical allegory to which the idea alludes — it can be a really spectacular AI assistant that would automagically choose the proper jacket to purchase its proprietor after that they had casually opined that “the climate is chilly”.

I imply, nobody would thoughts a present shock coat. However, clearly, the AI being inextricably deeplinked to your bank card means it could be you forking out for, and having to put on, that vivid crimson Columbia Lay D Down Jacket that arrived (through Amazon Prime) inside hours of your climatic statement, and which the AI had algorithmically decided can be sturdy sufficient to push back some “chilly”, whereas having additionally data-mined your prior outerwear purchases to whittle down its fashion selection. Oh, you suntil don’t like the way it seems? Too dangerous.  

The advertising ‘dream’ pushed at shoppers of the proper AI-powered private assistant entails an terrible lot of suspension of disbelief round how a lot precise utility the know-how is credibly going to supply — i.e. until you’re the sort of one that desires to reorder the identical model of jacket yearly and in addition finds it horribly inconvenient to manually hunt down a brand new coat on-line and click on the ‘purchase’ button your self. Or else who feels there’s a life-enhancing distinction between having to immediately ask an Web related robotic assistant to “please flip up the warmth” vs having a robotic assistant 24/7 spying on you so it might autonomously apply calculated company to decide on to show up the warmth when it overheard you speaking concerning the chilly climate — despite the fact that you had been really simply speaking concerning the climate, not secretly asking the home to be magically willed hotter. Perhaps you’re going to have to start out being a bit extra cautious concerning the belongings you say out loud when your AI is close by (i.e. in all places, on a regular basis). 

People have sufficient bother understanding one another; anticipating our machines to be higher at this than we’re ourselves appears fanciful — at the least until you are taking the view that the makers of those data-constrained, imperfect programs are hoping to patch AI’s limitations and comprehension deficiencies by socially re-engineering their units’ erratic organic customers by restructuring and decreasing our behavioral decisions to make our lives extra predictable (and thus simpler to systemize). Name it an AI-enhanced life extra abnormal, much less lived.

5)   Augmented Actuality (AR) and AI Imaginative and prescient

“With the discharge of iOS 11, Apple included an ARKit function that gives new instruments to builders to make including AR to apps simpler. Equally, Google introduced its ARCore AR developer instrument for Android and plans to allow AR on about 100 million Android units by the tip of subsequent yr. Google expects nearly each new Android telephone will likely be AR-ready out of the field subsequent yr. One instance of how AR can be utilized is in apps that assist to gather consumer knowledge and detect diseases reminiscent of pores and skin most cancers or pancreatic most cancers.”

Whereas most AR apps are inevitably going to be much more frivolous than the most cancers detecting examples being cited right here, nobody’s going to neg the ‘would possibly push back a severe illness’ card. That mentioned, a system that’s harvesting private knowledge for medical diagnostic functions amplifies questions on how delicate well being knowledge will likely be securely saved, managed and safeguarded by smartphone distributors. Apple has been pro-active on the well being knowledge entrance — however, not like Google, its enterprise mannequin just isn’t depending on profiling customers to promote focused promoting so there are competing sorts of industrial pursuits at play.

And certainly, no matter on-device AI, it appears inevitable that customers’ well being knowledge goes to be taken off native units for processing by third social gathering diagnostic apps (which is able to need the information to assist enhance their very own AI fashions) — so knowledge safety issues ramp up accordingly. In the meantime highly effective AI apps that would immediately diagnose very severe diseases additionally elevate wider points round how an app may responsibly and sensitively inform an individual it believes they’ve a serious well being drawback. ‘Do no hurt’ begins to look an entire lot extra advanced when the marketing consultant is a robotic.  

6) Machine Administration

“Machine studying will enhance machine efficiency and standby time. For instance, with many sensors, smartphones can higher perceive and be taught consumer’s behaviour, reminiscent of when to make use of which app. The smartphone will be capable of preserve continuously used apps operating within the background for fast re-launch, or to close down unused apps to save lots of reminiscence and battery.”

One other AI promise that’s predicated on pervasive surveillance coupled with diminished consumer company — what if I really need to preserve an app open that I usually shut immediately or vice versa; the AI’s template received’t all the time predict dynamic utilization completely. Criticism directed at Apple after the current revelation that iOS will gradual efficiency of older iPhones as a method for attempting to eke higher efficiency out of older batteries needs to be a warning flag that buyers can react in sudden methods to a perceived lack of management over their units by the manufacturing entity.   

7) Private Profiling

“Smartphones are in a position to gather knowledge for behavioural and private profiling. Customers can obtain safety and help dynamically, relying on the exercise that’s being carried out and the environments they’re in (e.g., dwelling, car, workplace, or leisure actions). Service suppliers reminiscent of insurance coverage corporations can now deal with customers, moderately than the property. For instance, they may be capable of modify the automotive insurance coverage fee based mostly on driving behaviour.”

Insurance coverage premiums based mostly on pervasive behavioral evaluation — on this case powered by smartphone sensor knowledge (location, velocity, locomotion and so forth) — may additionally in fact be adjusted in ways in which find yourself penalizing the machine proprietor. Say if an individual’s telephone indicated they brake harshly very often. Or often exceed the velocity restrict in sure zones. And once more, isn’t AI alleged to be changing drivers behind the wheel? Will a self-driving automotive require its rider to have driving insurance coverage? Or aren’t conventional automotive insurance coverage premiums on the street to zero anyway — so the place precisely is the buyer profit from being pervasively personally profiled? 

In the meantime discriminatory pricing is one other clear danger with profiling. And for what different functions would possibly a smartphone be utilized to carry out behavioral evaluation of its proprietor? Time spent hitting the keys of an workplace pc? Hours spent lounged out in entrance of the TV? Quantification of virtually each quotidian factor would possibly change into doable as a consequence of always-on AI — and given the ubiquity of the smartphone (aka the ‘non-wearable wearable’) — however is that really fascinating? Might it not induce emotions of discomfort, stress and demotivation by making ‘customers’ (i.e. individuals) really feel they’re being microscopically and repeatedly judged only for how they reside? 

The dangers round pervasive profiling seem much more crazily dystopian once you have a look at China’s plan to provide each citizen a ‘character rating’ — and think about the kinds of supposed (and unintended) penalties that would move from state degree management infrastructures powered by the sensor-packed units in our pockets. 

eight)   Content material Censorship/Detection

“Restricted content material may be routinely detected. Objectionable photographs, movies or textual content may be flagged and numerous notification alarms may be enabled. Pc recognition software program can detect any content material that violates any legal guidelines or insurance policies. For instance, taking images in excessive safety services or storing extremely categorized knowledge on company-paid smartphones will notify IT.”

Private smartphones that snitch on their customers for breaking company IT insurance policies sound like one thing straight out of a sci-fi dystopia. Ditto AI-powered content material censorship. There’s a wealthy and assorted (and ever-expanding) tapestry of examples of AI failing to accurately establish, or completely misclassifying, photographs — together with being fooled by intentionally adulterated graphics  — as nicely an extended historical past of tech corporations misapplying their very own insurance policies to vanish from view (or in any other case) sure items and classes of content material (together with actually iconic and actually pure stuff) — so freely handing management over what we will and can’t see (or do) with our personal units on the UI degree to a machine company that’s finally managed by a industrial entity topic to its personal agendas and political pressures would appear ill-advised to say the least. It could additionally signify a seismic shift within the energy dynamic between customers and related units. 

9) Private Photographing

“Private photographing consists of smartphones which are in a position to routinely produce beautified images based mostly on a consumer’s particular person aesthetic preferences. For instance, there are completely different aesthetic preferences between the East and West — most Chinese language individuals want a pale complexion, whereas shoppers within the West are inclined to want tan pores and skin tones.”

AI already has a patchy historical past in relation to racially offensive ‘beautification’ filters. So any sort of computerized adjustment of pores and skin tones appears equally ill-advised.  Zooming out, this type of subjective automation can be hideously reductive — fixing customers extra firmly inside AI-generated filter bubbles by eroding their company to find various views and aesthetics. What occurs to ‘magnificence is within the eye of the beholder’ if human eyes are being unwittingly rendered algorithmically color-blind? 

10)    Audio Analytic

“The smartphone’s microphone is ready to repeatedly hearken to real-world sounds. AI functionality on machine is ready to inform these sounds, and instruct customers or set off occasions. For instance, a smartphone hears a consumer loud night breathing, then triggers the consumer’s wristband to encourage a change in sleeping positions.”

What else would possibly a smartphone microphone that’s repeatedly listening to the sounds in your bed room, rest room, lounge, kitchen, automotive, office, storage, lodge room and so forth be capable of discern and infer about you and your life? And do you really need an exterior industrial company figuring out how finest to systemize your existence to such an intimate diploma that it has the ability to disrupt your sleep? The discrepancy between the ‘drawback’ being advised right here (loud night breathing) and the intrusive ‘repair’ (wiretapping coupled with a shock-generating wearable) very firmly underlines the dearth of ‘automagic’ concerned in AI. Quite the opposite, the unreal intelligence programs we’re presently able to constructing require close to totalitarian ranges of information and/or entry to knowledge and but shopper propositions are solely actually providing slim, trivial or incidental utility.

This discrepancy doesn’t bother the large data-mining companies which have made it their mission to amass huge data-sets to allow them to gasoline business-critical AI efforts behind the scenes. However for smartphone customers requested to sleep beside a private machine that’s actively eavesdropping on bed room exercise, for e.g., the equation begins to look moderately extra unbalanced. And even when YOU personally don’t thoughts, what about everybody else round you whose “real-world sounds” will even be being snooped on by your telephone, no matter whether or not they prefer it or not. Have you ever requested them if they need an AI quantifying the noises they make? Are you going to tell everybody you meet that you just’re packing a wiretap? 

[kylosrehn]

fic masterlist

so this is probably a pointless idea, but here’s a collection of all the drabbles i’ve posted on tumblr (so far). these are mainly fitz/ophelia fics, unless stated otherwise

may 2017

said that we’re not lovers [jemma/ophelia] also on ao3 [x]

Jemma has long disliked Ophelia, openly and honestly, but in the weeks since Fitz’s departure it’s gotten considerably worse.

june 2017

flickers among the flat pink roses also on ao3 [x]

And science doesn’t account for miracles but maybe it should, because that is exactly what she is, the only credible explanation for her very existence. 

i know the sound of your heart

Their eyes meet, hers glistening with something like astonishment and unshed tears.

this one small act of kindness

“How can you tell if you love someone, anyway?” Ophelia asks and there’s a lilt of frustration to her voice because she doesn’t know how to put a name on it.

lips like sugar

It’s kind of endearing, Leopold decides, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

and there’s no remedy for memory “I miss her too.” She confesses, and it’s broken. “So much.”

my heart’s the same as yours (i love you the same) “She’ll always be my daughter.”

look at the stars (look how they shine for you) “You want to name our daughter after space?” She asks, and it’s wry but not disdainful.

your mess is mine Ward’s heart plummets somewhere into his stomach because, fuck. She almost sounds like Skye and really, he’s not sure he can handle two disgustingly self-sacrificial women in his life.

aren’t we just terrified? There’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips but when their eyes meet she knows the fear she finds in them mirrors her own.

july 2017

two sugars and a drop of milk There’s caramel sauce spilling over the edges of the cup.

and failed me in biology “Ophelia.” He says, throat tight as her lips trace the shell of his ear. “I have a test tomorrow.”

these words are burning my mouth “A daughter is not a son.” Alistair tells him.

milk and cookies Bright splashes of what Leopold can only assume is paint decorate the front of Jemma’s blouse. There’s a similar smudge of blue across her cheek and she rubs at it with her thumb, noticing Leopold’s eyes on her.

don’t wanna miss a thing She frowns suddenly, looking troubled as she leans her head against his chest.

we’re on earth to break each others hearts in two She catches herself, bites down on her tongue but the unspoken words hang in the air between them regardless. It’s not what it looks like. What a fucking cliché.

i wanna get off with you I want your mouth on me. On my throat, between my breasts, against my stomach. The burn of your stubble between my thighs.

over rivers, farms and state lines also on ao3 [x]

She thinks of vast empty spaces in too-big beds, the way the cold sheets catch on her body and make her shiver — the way she’s been falling asleep alone and waking up alone in a bed that’s made for two.

a little unsteady Ophelia laughs around the blood in her mouth, bringing one hand up to cradle his cheek. “Better me than you, right?”

between faith and blindly waiting also on ao3 [x] There’s tension in the pull of his shoulders, a certain agitation about him as he runs his fingers along the valley of knuckles on his left hand in a way that’s not entirely unfamiliar.

august 2017

take care “I promise.” She says. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

the architecture of loss also on ao3 [x] Twenty seven hours and eighty five thousand dollars later, she’s glancing at an envelope on her desk, thick with fake documents and a dreadful kind of anticipation.

see your iphone camera flashin’ Ophelia’s smile deepens as she hooks a finger beneath the thin strap of her bralette, slipping it off her shoulder and sliding it down the length of her arm.

and you can worship me too “I mean it.” He whispers against her exposed shoulder. Ophelia’s spine arches as his mouth keeps moving lower, incessantly leaving hot, sloppy kisses across the expanse of her skin. “You’ve never been more beautiful.”

when you came into the world (you cried and it broke my heart) Ophelia’s hands slip around the baby with ease, curling instinctively, like this is exactly where she belongs. Fingertip tracing the line of a flushed cheek, she marvels at the child cradled in the crook of her arm.

not just something you take (it’s given) “It’s…it’s a woman’s choice.” He says, a neat little line nabbed straight from one of those colorful pamphlets that feel so heavy between her palms. The ones that inform you about your options and remind you that there’s always a choice without really telling you anything at all. “It’s the most personal one you can make.”

september 2017

you can use me up (you know i’ll give you everything) Lyra meets his gaze, hesitant. But she’ll comply, Augusta knows. Everyone who’s been swayed does.

do you think about me now and then? (maybe we could start again) And it’s so easy to imagine: their eyes meeting across the room, him taking her into his arms. Her name would roll off his tongue and her fingers would catch on the collar of his shirt, desperately pulling him closer, lips pressing against his, and it’d be like he never left. She’d finally tell him about their daughter and he’d love her and they could do it properly this time. Be a family.

send a dozen dead roses Leopold drops his hand like he’d been scalded, and Ophelia bites down on a gasp at the absence of his touch against her skin. “This child isn’t mine.” It’s more of a statement than a question. He already knows.