#in my law firm era

[comphyjost]

just met someone at work from nova scotia who talked with me about nate (and sid) and said how much their small little province is so proud of those boys and that any time she watches hockey now especially the avs she’ll think of me 🥲🥲

[erotetica]

Hiii Lewie

Special thanks to @transarmand for making these great GIFs, which were a godsend when drafting that plaid. My other refs r below the cut in case anyone finds them useful:)

[mummer]

got a job offer but the hours are absolutely shite and it doesnt start til the end of next month

[kaurwreck]

fun fact! the contemporary Japanese constitution as amended does not and can't exist in bsd. this isn't conjecture— there are institutions that still exist in bsd that were dissolved by Japan's current constitution, and the events leading to Japan's current constitution have not happened in bsd.

Japan's constitution was rewritten by US General Douglas MacArthur in 1946, in the aftermath of WW2. But WW2 hasn't happened in bsd. (This is also not really conjecture; it's evidenced by there being a Great War and Fukuchi's aims to prevent a second would-be-greater war— irl, the Great War was only called that prior to WW2 because it was, until WW2, the most destructive, widespread war in the modern world. We then had an even greater war and so began numbering them.)

but, it's not even only that WW2 hasn't happened. you might have noticed bsd's Great War parallels but doesn't mirror irl!WW1— in bsd; the international alliances were different (ex: France was allied with Japan and Germany); Japan disengaged from the Great War before its conclusion (after Fukuzawa killed Japan's war hawks); the subsequent peace treaty was between France, Germany, and England (in lieu of the Treaty of Versailles); different nation states arose in the aftermath (the Republic of Nares only exists in bsd, it never existed irl— but WW1 did collapse empires and beget several new nations); the Great War beget the United Nations instead of the League of Nations; etc.

it's not clear precisely where bsd's alternate history breaks from ours— or if there was ever even a break or if it's an entirely parallel timeline—but it is canon that the Port Treaties that forcefully opened irl Japan exist in bsd but were never abolished like they were irl in 1899. it's canon that Suribachi City formed after itty bitty baby Chuuya black hole kaiju'ed a foreign settlement in Yokohama since there wasn't any appetite to rebuild it— which means that as recently as approximately a decade prior to canon, there were still foreign settlements in Japan. this is further confirmed by the Colonel in 55 Minutes.

all of this to illustrate: any claim regarding bsd!Japan's laws based on irl!contemporary Japan is incorrect unless specifically affirmed in canon. Based on the information we've been given thus far, the two Japans are operating on completely different legal frameworks.

in other words, there's no basis for deciding same sex marriage is illegal in bsd!Japan until Kafka Asagiri writes it into canon.*

*For example, I'm fairly certain Yokohama's municipal tax laws and regulations are similar enough to irl!Yokohama because Kunikida mentions a specific tax zone in Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam that seemingly aligns with a tax zone specific to some contemporary Japanese municipalities, including Yokohama.

*Random fanfic of any gay BSD ships getting proposed to/are married/seems like they are married

“it’s cute and all but you’re forgetting that gay marriage is illegal in Japan”

Stfu, they are literally part of the mafia and have killed poeple, you really think they’d care about that💀

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Boss politics antitrust

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/12/the-enemy-of-your-enemy/#is-your-enemy

Xi Jinping inaugurated his second term with an anti-corruption purge that ran from 2012-2015, resulting in a massive turnover in the power structures of Chinese society.

At the time, people inside and outside of China believed that Xi was using the crackdown to target his political enemies and consolidate power. Certainly, that was the effect of the purge, which paved the way for reforms to Chinese law that have effectively allowed Xi to hold office for life.

In 2018, Peter Lorentzen (USF Econ) and Xi Lu (NUS Policy) published a paper that used clever empirical methods to get to the bottom of this question:

https://web.archive.org/web/20181222163946/https://peterlorentzen.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Lorentzen-Lu-Crackdown-Nov-2018-Posted-Version.pdf

Working from the extensive data-files published during the corruption trials of the purged officials, Lorentzen and Xi Liu were able to estimate the likelihood that an official had really been corrupt. They concluded that overwhelmingly, the anti-corruption purges did target corrupt officials, some of them very highly placed.

But when they considered the social graph of those defenestrated officials, they found that they came from blocs that were rivals of Xi Jinping and his circle, while officials who were loyal to Xi Jinping's were spared, even when they were corrupt.

In other words, Xi Jinping's anticorruption efforts targeted genuinely corrupt officials – but only if they supported Xi's rivals. Xi's own cronies were exempted from this. Xi did use the anticorruption effort to consolidate power, but that doesn't mean he prosecuted the innocent – rather, he selectively prosecuted the guilty.

Donald Trump will be America's next president. He campaigned against "elites" and won the support of Americans who were rightly furious at being ripped off and abused by big business. The Biden administration had done much to tackle this corruption, starting with July 2020's 72-point executive order creating a "whole of government" approach to fighting corporate power:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Trump will have to decide what to do about these efforts. It's easy to say that Trump will just kill them all and let giant, predatory corporations rip, but I think that's wrong. After all, the Google antitrust case that the DoJ just won started under the last Trump administration. Trump also sued to block the absolutely terrible merger between Warner and AT&T.

I think it's safer to say that Trump will selectively target businesses for anticorruption enforcement – including antitrust – based on whether they oppose him or suck up to him. I think American business leaders know it, too, which is why every tech boss lined up to give Trump a public rim-job last week:

https://daringfireball.net/2024/11/i_wonder

Trump killed the AT&T-Time Warner merger to punish CNN. He went after Google to punish "woke" tech firms. That doesn't make AT&T, Time Warner or Google good. They're terrible monopolists and the US government should be making their lives miserable.

Trump will not need to falsify evidence against corporations that are disloyal to him. All of America's big businesses are cesspits of sleaze, fraud and predation. Every merger that is being teed up now for the coming four years is illegal under the antitrust laws that we stopped enforcing in the Reagan era and only dusted off again for four years under Biden. They're all guilty, which means that Trump will be able to bring a valid case against any of them.

This will create a trap for people who hate Trump but don't pay close attention to anticorruption cases. It's a trap that Trump sprung successfully in his first term, when he lashed out at the "intelligence community" – the brutal, corrupt, vicious, lawless American spy agencies that are the sworn enemies of working people and the the struggle for justice at home and abroad – and American liberals decided that the enemy of their enemy was their friend, and energetically sold one another Robert Mueller votive candles:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

Over the next four years, Trump will use antitrust and other corruption-taming regulations to selective punish crooked companies. He won't target them because they're crooked: he'll target them because they aren't sufficiently loyal to him.

If you let your hatred of Trump blind you to the crookedness of these companies, you lose and Trump wins. The reason Trump will find it easy to punish these companies is that they are all guilty. If you let yourself forget that, if you treat your enemy's enemy as your friend, then Trump will point at his political rivals and call them apologists for corruption and sleaze – and he'll be right.

It is possible for Trump to fight corruption corruptly. That's exactly what he'll do. But just because Trump hates these companies, it doesn't follow that we should love them.

[dear-ao3]

theres something so incredibly prolific about john mulaney's comeback kid special. i cant tell if it aged like milk or fine wine or maybe just a nice slightly stinky cheese. the whole bit with his wife who he is now divorced to, relating it to the movie the fugitive with the "i didnt kill my wife!" "ooo whos that fella, i bet he did kill his wife," and the whole bit about not wanting kids when he now has a kid, the office temp stories from when he was young and drinking and addicted to drugs and now how that happened again in his adult life, the bits about his parents sprinkled throughout and how it all comes in to the grand finale with bill clinton, the comeback kid, a political bit in the pre tr*mp era that hits just correctly and just at the right time to be funny for what it is, how he ties the fugitive back into it, then hits you with the "hey ellen" "cause he never forgets a bitch ever" and slam dunks the end with his dads law firm representing clinton. truly a work of art that could not have hit the same in literally any other year.

[raekensluver]

rekindled bonds (introduction)

introduction, part one, part two,

description: reuniting with your old childhood best friend, spencer reid, in the most unlikely of places, the fbi's behavioral analysis unit.

pairing: spencer reid x bau agent!fem!reader

contains: fluff!!, spencer and r reuniting after a decade, childhood best friends to lovers trope.

song rec: pretty boy by the nbhd- "pretty boy, you did this with me, boy."

w.c: 870+

an: if you want to be added to the taglist for this series lmk! i'm planning for this to have at least three parts !!! also i haven't watched criminal minds in forever so, i definitely think i messed up on what agents are on the team in this era....(my bau team is prentiss, morgan, rossi, jj, reid and garcia)

"you know, i never expected to end up here," you murmured to yourself, glancing around the bustling office space filled with a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces. the hum of conversation and the tap of keyboards created a comforting rhythm that was almost soothing. the walls, lined with case files and maps, whispered tales of a world you had only ever read about.

"you'll fit in just fine," a voice said from behind you, and you turned to find emily prentiss, her eyes gleaming with a knowing smile. "this place has a way of growing on you." she began to lead you through the maze of desks, each one a miniature universe of clutter and chaos, until you reached one that was shockingly neat. "this is where you'll be working."

as you took in the organized space, she continued, "i'm emily prentiss, unit chief. i've heard a lot about you." her hand extended in a firm, confident gesture. "it's an honor to finally meet you."

you took her hand with a warm smile, feeling a sudden rush of excitement. "likewise," you said, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head. "i've followed your work closely. i'm thrilled to be joining the team."

emily's smile grew as she gave a nod of approval. "i have no doubt you'll be an excellent addition to the team." she turned and began to lead you through the office, her heels clicking against the tiles with a confidence that seemed to resonate through the room. as you walked, you couldn't help but feel like you were stepping into a dream - a world of law enforcement and psychological profiling that you had only ever watched unfold on television screens.

each desk you passed had its own story to tell, with case files piled high and personal mementos scattered among the paperwork. "this is where the magic happens," emily said, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "every member of our team brings something unique to the table, and together, we solve the unsolvable."

as you followed her, you noticed a man in the corner, his eyes glued to a computer screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard. something about him was eerily familiar, but you couldn't quite place it. his hair was shaggier than you remembered, and he'd filled out a bit, but the intense focus was unmistakable.

"spencer," emily called out, and the man's head snapped up, his eyes darting around the room before landing on you. "i want you to meet our newest member."

you felt your heart skip a beat as the realization dawned on you. it was him - the boy from your past, now a man with a sharp intellect and a reputation that preceded him. "reid," you murmured, a mix of disbelief and excitement coloring your voice.

spencer reid looked up from his computer, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before recognition lit up his eyes. "you," he said, his voice a perfect blend of surprise and delight. he pushed back his chair and stood, a warm smile spreading across his face. "i can't believe it's you."

you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "small world, huh?" you stepped closer, feeling a mix of nostalgia and nerves as he closed the distance between you.

"indeed," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "i never thought i'd see you again, especially not here."

you chuckled, feeling the weight of the years that had passed between you. "life has a funny way of working out, doesn't it?"

spencer nodded, his smile never wavering. "it certainly does. how have you been?"

you felt a flush rise to your cheeks, not quite knowing where to begin. "i've been… good," you managed, trying to keep your cool. "i studied psychology in college, like i always talked about. it's what brought me here."

his eyes searched yours, and you could see the curiosity in them. "i've missed you," he said, his voice sincere. "you were always the one who could keep up with me."

you blinked, surprised by his candidness. "you too," you admitted. "i always wondered what happened to the kid who read encyclopedias for fun."

just as the conversation was starting to flow, emily cleared her throat, her eyebrows arched in curiosity. "you two know each other?" she asked, looking back and forth between you.

you nodded, unable to wipe the smile from your face. "we're old friends," you said, still slightly in shock. "we grew up together."

emily's eyes widened. "really?" she looked intrigued. "i had no idea."

"yes," spencer said, his smile growing wider. "we were practically inseparable until i left for college. she was the one who could actually understand what i was talking about when i went on one of my…rambles."

emily chuckled. "well, that's a rare skill around here. we could all use a little more of that." she turned to you. "i'd love to hear more about your history with reid, but we're on a tight schedule. we have a case briefing in ten minutes."

you nodded, feeling the excitement of the moment give way to the reality of your new job. "of course," you said, trying to compose yourself. "i'm ready."

edited 8.20.24

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Spinning the Block Part 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Angst, Mentions of Racial Tension.

Summary: Jess Sims attempts to pay her respects.

Word count: 3.2K

"Turned into an inconvenience

You only want me when convenient

I know that I could probably block you

But for some reason, I wanna see you

And you know I give a damn about you

You got me sittin' here thinkin' about you

And how your name triggers all my emotions

Into my eyes, into an ocean"

Normani – "Insomnia"

Jessica Sims knew in her heart she had no right to be at Michael Simmons' mother's house.

She'd driven an hour from Shelby Springs into Greenwood carrying a homemade lemon pound cake in the passenger side of her slate gray Dodge Durango. Her mother's recipe had her SUV smelling like fresh butter, sugar, and citrus.

The closer she got to the neighboring town, the tighter her fingers gripped the steering wheel, worrying if she'd see Terry Richmond again. He'd been on her mind for weeks…haunting her. She lost sleep and her nerves were so bad she had to get a prescription for sleeping pills just to function daily. Jess tried every home remedy from chamomile tea to a glass of warm milk before bed to fight insomnia.

Nothing worked.

Each night she crawled between cool sheets and stared at her bedroom ceiling, wishing things were different. Wishing she'd done things differently. Terry's smoldering sea-green eyes always came into focus, taunting her, preventing much needed rest.

When he walked into her police station to file a robbery complaint, she'd believed her department ran a tight ship. Her training had taught her to be fair but firm in following the law by the books. Chief Sandy Burnne had been her mentor, the one who recruited her straight from the police academy. She planned her law enforcement career while in college, joining the police academy a year after graduation. Her family wasn't too keen on the idea, preferring she use the hard-earned sociology degree to get a regular job and start a family like her older brothers. Jess had other plans. She wanted to be the first Black female police chief in Shelby Springs.

Wielding a badge and a gun allowed her to protect her own community. She had a certain charmed way of speaking to people that let them know not to test her, but that she'd hear them out with their problems whether they were in the wrong or right. Her excellent reputation around those parts gave her access to places that would unnerve the average person. She grew up a tomboy running around hunting with her father and brothers, physically fighting anyone who crossed her. She abhorred a bully, and that caused her problems with some of her colleagues that used their badge to sling their dicks around. Jess didn't go along to get along, but she picked her battles carefully to achieve her long-term goal: to run the department herself one day.

Men tested her all the time, and she did her job ignoring the micro and macro aggressions. Chief Burnne always had her back despite the cracker ways he tried to keep under wraps. He came from an era of uneducated Cajun rednecks filling up the department. Nowadays, there were more cops coming onto the force with education, melanin, and sometimes a vagina. A lot of old-school men didn't like that. Chief Burnne didn't either, but he accepted her and showed Jess respect when she did her job well. She impressed him, and he took her under his wing. She never revealed her goals to have his job in the future. Staying quiet, observant, and efficient worked to her advantage. Chief Burnne opened up more that way, spilling his tips on how to handle the job and people his way.

That is…until Terry Richmond showed up.

Jess misread his intentions from the start.

The second he strode into the office, she sensed a cockiness in him that smoldered beneath the surface. Most Black men in Shelby Springs were older and paunchy from a sedentary lifestyle and good Country Cookin', or lean youngsters with hustler's dreams of getting away from small town life. Terry was built strong and muscular, like a brick shithouse. He carried himself different. Spoke with controlled diction. He was a country boy for sure, but one that didn't work around Shelby Springs. She would've noticed his striking looks at the bars or cookouts broadcasting that he was living mighty fine. Employment was good with the new petrochemical plant ten miles away, and the Black community she lived in thrived with folks making good money, something that hadn't happened in over thirty years. Black folks, especially the men, being flush with cash and a pride about themselves irritated the white community. Negroes were acting a little too uppity lately. Buying new cars and scooping up property. Getting their homes built from scratch. Purchasing big fishing boats to use on Lake Tremblay. Sending their kids to college.

Tensions erupted in bars, public gatherings, and even football games at the local high school whenever white and Black people mingled in the same spaces. That's where Jess worked her magic. If she caught word of trouble brewing, she'd make a phone call to family and friends, giving a warning about police sweeps and rednecks making a commotion. The community grapevine activated and her people acted accordingly to stay far from trouble.

When it was her time to do patrols, Jess stayed visible in the white areas a lot. Her paternal great-granddaddy Adelore Seraphin was a fiery white Cajun who never married her great-grandmother, so she never gave their only child, Jess's granddaddy, his surname. The Sims family were proud Black Cajuns who turned their nose up at white trash. Adelore was considered trash because he wouldn't divorce his wife to marry Zema Sims. There was something about her Paw Paw's wife not giving him a divorce on account of them being Catholic. Granny Zema was an African Methodist and didn't give a damn about what Catholics thought about divorce. Paw Paw left that white lady and built Granny Zema a house to show that he was for real about building a life and family with her. So that's what they did. The white wife kept the marriage title, but Granny Zema kept the man.

It was a scandal, and as far as her Paw Paw was concerned, his only issue was that he didn't want that other woman to get part of his pension. She never did because she died before him, a bitter alcoholic, still screaming about the Black bitch that stole her husband. Technically, Granny Zema didn't steal him. She had him first, but back in their time, they couldn't get married because of miscegenation laws. So they broke up and Paw Paw married the white woman…and lived miserably. He started tipping out and one thing led to another. Jess's granddaddy, Hebert Sims, was born.

Jess's connection to Adelore Seraphin meant she had white Cajun relatives all up and down Shelby Springs. The kin on that side, who knew the family tree had an extra dark branch, tolerated Jess when she made patrols or answered calls of domestic disturbances in that section of town. Nothing on her screamed Seraphin except for her eyes. She had Paw Paw's discerning eyes. So did her daddy. She moved in the world like a Sims, but them pale kinfolk recognized her as the great-granddaughter of that trouble-making Seraphin behind her back. That gave Jess intimate knowledge of how outsiders perceived the proud, flourishing Black community. Trouble.

So when Terry Richmond rode his fine ass into Shelby Springs, he was already a problem before Lann clipped him with the police cruiser.

When he sat down in front of her while she typed in his descriptions of who robbed him, his tone was confident. His demeanor crafty. She was shocked that he recorded their conversation, equally shocked by Chief Burnne's sudden aggression toward him. Lann was an asshole to everyone, overcompensating for some deep-rooted male insecurity. Her first thought was that the Chief might've known something about Terry that she didn't, and she expected to be filled in on the matter. Drug couriers were a thing within small towns, and it wasn't above suspicion that drug runners would use a decoy disguise to pretend they were regular citizens going about their day. She went back and forth in her mind about Terry's reason for carrying so much cash in a backpack on a bike. It looked and sounded suspicious, especially with the drug busts they'd done a few months previously on the bridge during a police chase. She had picked up her own distant white kin at his house, the run-down place full of meth and illegal fentanyl. Opioid use was up. Drug dealers were racking up millions transporting that cash economy and product moving across state lines in Louisiana grew. Chief Burnne's own nephew had died of a drug overdose ten years ago, so anything that had a whiff of drug activity got his hackles up.

That was the hard line story they fed Jess for five years as she accepted civil forfeitures as a necessary part of police work. Portions of white and Black men from Shelby Springs and other bordering towns thrived in the drug trade. Sex trafficking, too. Her department prided itself on breaking the supply chain.

It had all been a lie.

Chief Burnne's lie. His department…his rules.

Jess had been inadvertently complicit.

A rule follower, and a staunch believer in the church of right and wrong, she turned a blind eye to activity that should've raised suspicions. Instead, she quietly looked out for her people on the domestic front, dousing potential flames of racist attacks, especially with all the MAGA crowd flaunting their bigotry and jealousy. Jess was more worried about racist attacks happening. Red necks were openly riding around in trucks carrying lynching ropes with right-wing slogans for bumper stickers. The south was always going to be the south, and America was always going to be America…the United Racists of America.

Jess literally couldn't be bothered if suspicious men passing through town carrying ridiculous amounts of cash got hemmed up. She damn well wouldn't coddle grown ass Black men if they got busted for doing crimes. Her daddy instilled in her a strong bullshit detector for her dealings with that.

"Sweetheart, Black men have to decide for themselves if they want to do right in the world. Black women can't keep the cape on forever, or come running with mops and brooms to clean up their messes. If Black women can get up every day and build up their community in the same terrible conditions as us, then they gotta stop babying these men who tear it down. There's no excuse for a Black man not wanting better for himself or his people. We done come too damn far to be the new terrorists against our own women and children."

Jess listened well. Applied it to Terry.

Something in her gut knew something wasn't right, but she didn't want to put herself out for some stranger who might've been tearing people's lives apart transporting thirty-six thousand dollars in cash. Black people always suffered the most with drug addiction and drug crime because of generational poverty and the predators who took advantage of that. Terry could've been lying to cover his ass for a drug cartel. She didn't know him, didn't know who his people were. He came into her life that day and turned it upside down. The only silver lining she clung to in the end was that she saved his life twice. Once when Officer McGill almost blasted him with a rifle when Terry dragged Marston behind a cruiser to safety. Jess slammed her hand on the weapon. McGill looked shell-shocked by the turn of events. She felt the same. Her boss had shot a fellow officer and made a speech to them all about how he would cover it up. If Chief Burnne harmed a white man that easily, he wouldn't blink twice before taking her out. The second time was when she carried out a PIT maneuver and knocked Burnne away from Terry, providing his last escape. The death of his cousin and the treatment he received in Shelby Springs were irredeemable. All she hoped for was peace in her own mind that she acted on the right side of judgement.

Jess followed her SUV's navigation system and pulled onto a street full of cars parked everywhere. She passed by Rosa Simmons' single family brick house with a large manicured lawn. Mourners milled about the front and the entrance door was wide open. After all the legal and medical inquiries, along with the criminal investigation, it took the Simmons' family three weeks to get Mike's body returned for burial.

She parked two blocks away and smoothed out her most subdued black sheath dress. It was plain and appropriate for the occasion. She carried the pound cake in a round Tupperware container and listened to her kitten heels click-clack on the narrow sidewalk. Her stomach churned, nearing the home.

"Hi..hello…hiya doin'?" she said, passing people she didn't know on the walkway to the house.

Heads nodded at her with sorrowful eyes and stooped body postures. The atmosphere inside the modest home was thick with heartache. Jess contemplated doing a pivot right back outside, but an older woman in her fifties with short-clipped hair sitting on a recliner noticed her.

Mike's mother, Rosa.

"My condolences, Mrs. Simmons," Jess whispered.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself and stepped forward, past a throng of people carrying plates of sliced ham, potato salad, and baked beans.

"Thank you for coming…oh you brought something, how thoughtful."

Rosa stood up.

"I can take that," Rosa said.

"Ma'am, I can put it with the other food."

"Mm-hmm, yes, the dining room table is right back there. Did you go to school with my Michael?"

"No, ma'am. I knew him from somewhere else. I'll put this away."

"Okay, baby. Fix yourself a plate while you're in there."

"Thank you."

Jess's eyes darted away and took in the other mourners. Her heart thumped a triple rhythm. It was best to put the cake on a table and leave. The stress of feeling like a traitor to her own wore on her nerves.

Delicious odors of soul food guided her nose to the dining room. The dining table could've buckled under the weight of so much food. Folks old and young helped themselves to fried chicken, crawfish, turnip greens, gooey macaroni and cheese, and a pot filled with smoked chiltlins.

She pushed a crock pot of brown gravy aside to make room for her cake next to a half-eaten sweet potato pie.

"Who let this woman in here?!"

A light brown woman with soft, shoulder-length curls glared at Jess, her lips curled into an angry snarl. Everyone looked at Jess curiously, wondering what was going on.

"Mama! Who let this dirty cop into our house?"

Rosa rushed into the dining room. Jess held out her hands.

"I just wanted to give my condolences—"

"You're the reason my brother is dead! Who let her in? Who?!" Mike's sister screamed.

The anguish in her voice brought tears to Jess's eyes.

"I'm sorry…everyone, I'm sorry…Mrs. Simmons…"

In her peripheral, Jess noticed Terry coming from a back room wearing a dark suit. She ran away as fast as her kitten heels could carry her. She knocked into people and brushed past other family members on her way out the door.

"Jess!"

Terry's deep baritone called to her, and she pumped her legs faster. Reaching the car, she fumbled for her key fob and unlocked the SUV. She jumped in and Terry banged on her window.

"I'm sorry I came. I didn't mean to upset your family," she said, starting her vehicle.

"Roll down your window."

His commanding eyes stared right through her. She rolled her window down partially. Wiping tears away from her cheeks, she faced her front window, unable to look at him.

"I know it wasn't easy for you to come here."

She shook her head, and a violent sob choked her throat.

"Listen…give me your number. I'd like to speak with you about all of this… at a better time—"

"No…this was a mistake…I'm sorry…I have to go—"

"Fucking bitch!"

Mike's sister threw Jess's cake on the car. The Tupperware container burst open and the pound cake crumbled all over the hood.

"Livia! Stop!"

Terry walked toward his cousin, and she ran from him toward the sidewalk. Other family members had followed them to watch the scene. Jess's stomach sank to the floor of her car.

"You did this to Mike! You goddamn greedy cops sent my brother to die and I fucking hate you! Get outta here, you murdering bitch!"

Livia picked up a heavy rock and threw it at the passenger side window, fracturing the tempered glass. Terry lifted his cousin up by the waist and carried her away. Jess drove off quickly. Cake crumbs fell away from her hood and she screeched her tires with a hasty exit.

She didn't hold back on crying, allowing her tears to wash away the shame and embarrassment.

Back in Shelby Springs, she paced the floors inside her house, drinking whiskey, and pondering her fate. Mike's burial was only the start of her troubles. Next came a lawsuit Terry filed against her department. It would probably finally bankrupt them like the last legal settlement they paid almost did. With the dashcam evidence, plus her, Summer, and Marston's testimony, Terry was sure to win a large payout. Her career was in jeopardy, and their department possibly disbanded.

She downed a half glass of Uncle Nearest whiskey and looked at her black dress. The audacity of her showing up in Greenwood thinking she could dip in and out without consequences.

Jess had to face her part in Terry's life being traumatized forever. Losing her job was a small price to pay for his lifetime of pain.

She leaned her head against her living room window in the dark and watched a swarm of fireflies do a light dance outside. Her grandfather used to say seeing fireflies brought good luck. Jess desperately needed that to be true.

Crawling into bed with her dress still on, Jess stared at her ceiling again, semi-drunk and all cried out. She thought about Terry calling out her name and running after her. He didn't sound mean or angry when he spoke to her briefly. Asking for her number surprised Jess, because…why? What could they talk about that would fix the wide valley between them? Maybe he wanted to yell at her too, get his justified anger off his chest. She deserved it.

Jess curled into the fetal position and thought of Terry. Even in mourning, he looked handsome in his suit. For the first time in weeks, she fell into a deep sleep without having to use medication.

Part 2 HERE.

Masterlist.

Taglist:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

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[sirfrogsworth]

Grampa's Antique Fan (2015 vs 2024 Edit)

As a young man, after coming home from the Second World War, my grampa got a job as an electrician for Emerson Electric. He didn't work on the actual electrical products. He just maintained the electrical systems that power the tools to make electrical components.

It was a "I heard you need electricity for your electricity" type deals.

The company was founded in 1890 in nearby Ferguson, Missouri by John Wesley Emerson. He was a Union commander in the Civil War and a lawyer and then a judge and then an author and then a historian... so he was clearly qualified to run one of the first electronics companies. (This is currently referred to as the "Law of Elon".)

Emerson (the company, not the dude) specialized in electric motors and was the first to stick their motors in a fan and sell them.

As you can see by the 4 protective fan guard loopies, these were very safe for kids to be around.

I mean, the biggest thing you could shove in there is a baby arm, which is the least important part of a baby. No baby heads were chopped off—which was the bar for consumer safety during that era.

Fans are rated by the volume of air they can push over a period of time and your average box fan can push about 1400 cubic feet per minute or "CFM". When this Emerson (the fan, not the dude) was produced they actually used "CCH" or cubic cubits per hour. Emerson (the dude) loved using odd standards of measurement much to the chagrin of his engineers.

Due to the small surface area, weak angle of attack, and heavy metal blades, this electronic beast could only push a baker's dozen cubic cubits per baker's hour—which was a confusing metric of time because people were very superstitious and they refused to put the 13 on the baker's clocks. They just left a mysterious blank void after the 12 and apparently several people had existential crises during the baker's hour. Some were institutionalized for a rare condition called Time Delirium.

Thankfully Emerson Electric was able to provide the electroshock therapy devices that cured several patients. This was achieved by erasing the memory of the traumatic time delirium events along with a few other unimportant details like what they did last Tuesday and their mother's name and one engineering degree that the guy wasn't even using.

My dad actually got the fan working and let me tell you... that bad boy could really work up a gentle breeze...

...if you stood behind it and blew.

And that fine American-made electric fan motor was just as quiet as a leaf blower on Saturday morning.

Over the last century, Emerson was bought and sold and bought and sold.

And bought and sold and bought and sold.

Was that 7?

Eh, close enough. We'll call it a baker's 7.

They changed their product line countless times over their 130+ years of existence. After fans they pivoted and made electric meat grinders. To this day, no one know what inspired that decision.

Currently, they make radar avionics and are majority-owned by the private equity firm, Blackstone. Which is a totally non-evil sounding name they chose for their company-eating empire. Please ignore that the CEO was one of Trump's policy strategists. This is a non-evil company with a non-evil name run by non-evil people, okay?

Despite Emerson Electric having to settle a baker's gross of lawsuits involving a few lightly scalp'd babies, they maintain a Fortune 500 status and are still headquartered in Ferguson.

They occupy one of the most boring ass buildings ever constructed.

Just rectangles all the way down.

That architect told every angle to get rect.

Of course, I forgot all of this cool history and sold this fan in the estate auction. I suppose it is a good thing I got a nice photograph to help assuage my current feelings of guilt. I mean, it is not baby scalping, time delirium guilt—but I would feel better if I knew my gramp-gramp's fan was in a good home with 0 babies.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 1

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: None really in this first chapter.

Word Count: 2,656

A/N: Okay, so this is the series that I orphaned over on fanfiction.net and I conducted a poll on what people wanted me to do with it if I brought it over to Tumblr. Converting it into a Dean x Reader AU won quite handily. So, that's what I'm doing. I hope you enjoy.

Just so everyone knows, this is a historical AU set in 1900, and there is no hunting involved. (Though there is a family business. 😄)

Series Master List | Main Master List | Tag List

Dean Winchester was bored; he admitted it. He was bored of the balls, the soirees, the empty conversations, the glittering jewels and the painted smiles. He needed a break. So he'd left New York City and all its glamor and come to Newburgh to spend time with his brother, Sam, Sam's wife Jessica and their little girl, Lucy.

However, now that he was standing in the quiet train station, waiting for Sam to pick him up, he had to wonder what he'd been thinking. With the sleepy ticket agent sitting behind the counter, gently dozing, and an old man sitting on a bench, lazily browsing through a local newspaper, this no longer seemed like a solution to his restlessness and boredom. This place actually seemed like the town that boredom was born and raised in!

But what could it hurt to stay for a week or two? He'd visit with Sam and Jessica, see how much Lucy had grown in the last year and maybe it would wash away the taste of sweaty, over-crowded ballrooms and smoky parlors with too much lemon furniture polish.

He shook his head. He didn't know what had gotten into him lately. That life was all he'd ever been interested in. Certainly, he'd never wanted his brother's life. Slaving away at his private law firm, saddled with a wife and child, and living in the middle of nowhere, a six hour train ride away from civilization; it had always horrified him.

In the last few months, however, the idea of breathing fresh air, of laughing with and even arguing with his brother, of bouncing his niece on his knee, and even the idea of listening to Jessica's bouncy chatter, had been growing in his mind until it was a constant disruption in his thoughts. So, he'd left the reins of his family's shipping and trade business in the hands of his very capable manager and sent a telegram to Sam that he was coming to stay, and to pick him up at the station.

But Sam was late. Dean had been waiting nearly an hour. Tired of standing around, Dean decided to wander a little. He woke up the ticket agent briefly to ask if he could leave his suitcase behind the desk with a message for his brother. The agent yawned and gave him a pen and paper, reaching over to take his suitcase.

Sam,

Got tired of waiting for you. Went exploring. Be back in an hour - two o'clock.

D.

"Thanks." He said to the agent, and set off on his quest to cure his boredom. There had to be something in this town to interest him.

***

Y/N breathed in deeply, and let out a long sigh. The air was crisp, fall air that smelled faintly of damp leaves, spice, and wood smoke. It was a warm and inviting smell and it made the lonely chasm inside her heart widen.

"Miss Y/N, watch!"

Y/N gave her attention back to the little girl who was running down the hill, scattering the birds, and laughing loudly. She couldn't help but smile at the little hellion. It might not be very ladylike behavior, but she wasn't even four years old yet. Y/N decided to save the admonishment and let her be a carefree little girl while she could. These years of innocence and abandon were fleeting. The little one should enjoy them.

"Hello."

Y/N jumped abruptly at a man's deep voice. With a hand over her thumping heart, Y/N turned to scowl at the stranger who'd startled her. As she looked up into his face however, her scowl melted and her heart started beating hard enough to jump out of her chest.

The man was smiling at her, a smile that hitched up one side of his mouth and made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. He was very tall, towering above her where she sat on the park bench. The perfectly tailored, brown traveling coat he wore stretched across broad shoulders and narrowed in a V shape over his flat stomach. His wool pants were of very fine quality and accentuated the strength and muscle of the legs beneath them.

He was beautiful, there was no doubt, but his eyes were something more than beautiful. They were a bright emerald green, long-lashed and penetrating. They stared into Y/N, like he could see through to her back collar button. His eyes alone caused Y/N to blush and she realized she was blushing because there were promises in his eyes, promises of something dark and sensual and all consuming.

He was speaking. She tried to clear the buzzing in her brain so she could hear him.

…"Dean."

She shook her head. "What?" she asked quietly.

He chuckled softly and Y/N's stomach clenched at the sound.

"Dean. I said my name is Dean Winchester and I asked you for yours."

"Y/N!"

At the sound of her name, Y/N turned, thinking wildly for a moment that someone had simply been telling this man her name, but then she realized it was Mr. Winchester, her boss. And as she realized this, the name the man had just given her penetrated through the haze in her mind.

She looked back at the stranger. "Winchester?"

But he wasn't looking at her anymore; he was looking at her boss who was jogging slightly towards them. "Dean!" he called out. "You weren't at the station, so I thought I'd track you down. Sorry I'm late." Mr. Winchester threw his arms around the man and pulled him into what looked like a bone crushing hug. But the man simply pounded Mr. Winchester on the back before her boss turned to face her.

“You’ve met my brother?”

***

Dean closed the door of his wardrobe and leaned against it, closing his eyes so he could bring that perfect face into his mind's eye. Beautiful (y/c) eyes, soft features, and an incredibly succulent mouth. He'd immediately had plans for those perfect lips and he'd already begun imagining them beneath his own, or moving down his body, slowly…

Then suddenly, he'd heard his brother's voice and was crushed in an embrace. When he pulled away, he could see the woman (Y/N?) was blushing profusely and trying to stare a hole into the ground.

He had quickly learned this woman was governess to his niece, his brother making the formal introductions. Lucy came running over and launched herself into Dean's arms.

"Uncle Dean! What did you bring me?"

"Lucy, manners." Sam had scolded. 

But Dean chuckled, and pulled gently on one of her braids. "I have lots for you, kiddo, but it's back at the station."

So, Sam had herded them all back towards the station. He'd told Lucy and her governess that they should get into the carriage as well and ride home with them, but Y/N had refused quickly, blushing again.

"No. Thank you, Sir. You're very kind, but Lucy needs to stretch her legs and wear off her energy. We'll walk back. I'll have her ready for supper at six o'clock." With that she took off with Lucy's hand in hers, walking fast enough that the little girl had to jog a bit to keep up.

"What did you do?" Sam had asked immediately, cuffing Dean none too softly in the back of the head.

"What?" Dean asked innocently. "I barely said two words to the woman."

"Really?" Sam asked, disbelievingly. "Well, two words from you and my level-headed, almost stoic, governess has turned into a blushing school girl."

Dean had just grinned. Sam rolled his eyes and cuffed him again.

Now Dean was changed out of his traveling clothes and into a fresh suit having bathed and rested. And he was bored once again. Sam had returned to his office in town to see his last client of the day and Jessica was out paying calls. He wandered around their modest, but beautiful home, reacquainting himself with the warm wood floors, expensive oriental rugs, and the smell of freshly cut flowers that Jessica grew in a hothouse in the back.

After a half hour, he was officially restless and all the signs of his brother's apparent domestic bliss had him desperate to find a distraction.

He wandered into the library hoping to find a book that might do the trick. Instead he found the beautiful governess he'd met so briefly. She was sitting on a green chair in the corner. She had her legs tucked up on the seat and one stocking clad ankle was showing as it peaked out from beneath her skirts. Lucy was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed she was taking an afternoon nap.

His body thrummed with desire immediately and he had to give his head a shake. He wasn't some green boy about to lift his first skirts. He needed to get control of himself.

Then she looked up from her book, sensing him, and her look of surprise mixed with the innocent desire that flooded her gaze took that control away in an instant. He pictured pulling her into his arms, and ravishing her sweet, lush mouth, which was now open slightly in surprise.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I apologize, Miss Y/L/N. I seem to startle you each time I see you."

She closed her mouth and shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Winchester. I'll leave you to your reading." She stood to go, but Dean leaned against the closed library door and crossed his arms.

"No, I'd like you to stay, please. Can you recommend a book? What are you reading?"

She took a moment before answering, swallowing several times. She held up the small book. "It's a book about biblical poetry."

"Oh?" Dean couldn't think of anything less interesting, but he moved to her side, and took the book from her hand as an excuse to get closer.

The scent of something sweet, but spicy hit him as he stood near her, making his head foggy, so it took him a moment to register what he was reading as he looked down at the page she'd been on, it was marked with a piece of ribbon.

Taking the ribbon out, he read the words again and then looked back at Y/N with an incredulous expression. "You were reading…this?" He turned the book back to her and pointed his finger at one passage in particular.

"Yes, that's right." Y/N confirmed. "I must confess, I'm not much of a poet, it all sounds fairly confusing to me. This poem talks about a man and woman who are gardening. What a mundane subject to write poetry about." She shrugged delicately. "But it is biblical, so I thought it could only enrich my mind."

Dean couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across his face. "This is the Song of Songs. It's love poetry."

Y/N looked puzzled. "Love? Of what, gardening?"

Dean's smile deepened. "It's written in metaphor. You know what a metaphor is, don't you?"

Y/N's expression became slightly annoyed. "Of course I know what a metaphor is, I'm a governess."

"Of course." Dean said and suddenly he had a wonderful idea. "Let me see if I can help you see the metaphor here. Sit back down, and allow me to read this section to you and see if you understand."

***

Y/N was trying hard to pull air into her lungs without appearing to pant. There must be something truly wrong with her that made these kind of thoughts run through her mind. She couldn't focus her gaze on anything. When she looked into his eyes, thoughts fled completely and her mind was just a rolling mass of red haze.

So, she tried to focus on his neck. But the column of his throat and square corner of his jaw, with it's slight shadow of stubble made her breath catch again. She looked lower to where his hands held the book. But his hands were large and his fingers were long and thick, with blunt squared tips. They made visions pop into her mind's eye, visions that no respectable lady would be having. She pictured those fingers taking hold of her hand, wrapping around it, she imagined the warmth of his skin on hers, and soon she was nothing but a mass of nerves again.

She was very proud of herself for getting words past her lips. But then he'd suggested he read to her and she heard herself agreeing. A part of her mind was telling her to simply leave, but she thought it might seem rude, he was the brother of her employer after all. So she sat.

He opened to her page and began:

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My beloved is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

Y/N listened and the words themselves held no new meaning, she could find no metaphors in them. But she heard the husky timbre of his voice, heard the low rumble as his tongue and lips formed the words, and she suddenly knew that what he was saying was scandalous. She could hear the impropriety in his voice, knew it from the way it made her shiver. Quoting the bible shouldn't create such a hedonistic reaction!

She jumped to her feet, unsure of what her next move would be, but she knew she couldn't stay in this room alone with this man another minute.

Dean stood slowly, putting the book down.

"Did you like it?" He asked and his voice was rough and low, slow and drawling.

She shook her head. She definitely didn't like this feeling. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton and her body tingled. He stepped closer to her and reached out to take her hand.

It felt exactly as she had imagined. It was warm where his fingertips held hers.

"I just realized that when we were introduced earlier I was very rude. I didn't even offer a kiss for your hand."

He tugged gently on her hand and she shuffled forward until only a few inches separated them. Her breathing was rough and her mind screamed at her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead she watched as he brought the back of her hand up to meet his plump lips. They were smooth and warm, and his breath just heated her skin there.

He moved his lips slowly, turning her hand in his so he could kiss the inside pulse point of her wrist. She had to tell him to stop. He was behaving with unbelievable impropriety. But his lips…they moved again, grazing her skin as they did, up to the tip of her thumb. Then he kissed the tip of each finger, before grasping her hand more firmly and pulling her the last inch toward him, so that now she could feel the heat radiating off of him. He dipped his head and she felt his lips in the center of her palm. Suddenly she felt his tongue flick out briefly to taste her.

It was the jolt of fire that shot up her arm that brought her to her senses. She gasped loudly and wrenched her hand out of his. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the mouth that had brought on such a feeling. Then, desperately, she bolted from the room, trying to outrun the image of the heat burning in those stunning green eyes and of the wide, sensual mouth she suddenly longed to feel against her own.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[cassiopeiascorner]

old vs recent books

These days I feel more drawn to older books (1950-1980), for a number of reasons. First, because "modern" witchcraft books tend to give out the same information, so once you've read a few, you've basically read them all.

But I also feel like misinformation spreads a lot faster in this era than it did 70 years ago. Nowadays, someone says something online, tons of instagram/tiktok/youtube videos/web pages repeat it, and two years later it founds itself in a published book on "modern witchcraft". Now, I'm not saying everything that comes out of a 1950 author's mouth is true, just that since the book publishing process was much more long and arduous then, there's probably more research/tradition going into what's written.

Also (but that's just me), I'm more prone to trusting an author that's firm in their personal beliefs and puts rules on their practice than one that says that pretty much everything is fine and ok to do. (That said, someone that holds space for doubt and renewal in their own knowledge is someone I am 100000% more likely to put my trust into.)

it also helps to see what are actual "old" and widespread beliefs among cultures, as opposed to things that were invented 20-30 years ago and are thought to be timeless (e.g., the threefold law)

[comphyjost]

keeping him with me in my office ❤️‍🩹

[chaoticbreadcrumbs]

HAVIK EXPLAINED

⚠️SPOILERS⚠️

Thanks to the previous games Havik set himself up as a strong, very intriguing figure when it comes to his lore, firm beliefs, his iconic terrifying appearance, and unpredictability. After many years and not being involved in the MK games, the character's potential was revived as Havik took a pivotal turn in Mortal Kombat 1, establishing himself as the hero, the anti-hero, and a villain in the game's new era yet again but this time even more distinctly. His actions in the game shaped his character arc and laid significant groundwork for future narratives within the MK universe. Today I decided to explore Havik's appearances throughout the Mortal Kombat franchise.

Havik's original design was intended for Noob Cybot as an alternative skin in Mortal Kombat 4 but was scrapped. 🎮

Havik's beta name was "Skab." 🧪

Havik was first introduced in 2004's Mortal Kombat: Deception. 🕹️

Mortal Kombat: Deception (2004):

Havik originates from the Chaos Realm. 🌀

Havik is a cleric of chaos who is very protective of his home and culture. 🌪️

He seeks to spread chaos across the Realms. 🔥

He is approached by Shujinko, a supposed Earthrealm emissary of the Elder Gods, who seeks guidance from him to obtain the Kamidogu of Chaos. 🌍

Havik agrees to help Shujinko if he helps him defeat the Seidan Guard invaders (Order Realm), who have invaded the Chaos Realm and are trying to control and alter its water (which was worshipped by Chaos Realm inhabitants because of its shapeless, malleable, impossible-to-control form). ⚔️

Havik teaches Shujinko the ways of chaos and gives him the keys to obtain the Kamidogu of Chaos. 🗝️

Havik plays an active role in the events of Mortal Kombat Deception, as he sees the rise of Onaga as a threat to the Realms. 🐉

Havik wants to obtain Onaga's heart as it possesses the power to raise the dead. 💀

Havik, seeing Kabal as a valuable ally, nurses him back to health and convinces him to reform the Black Dragons. 🐲

Havik seeks out others to assist him in his cause, but it is unknown how much of a part he plays in Onaga's downfall. 🤔

By the end of the canon lore, Havik is able to somewhat fulfill his wish with Onaga's defeat but is unable to obtain his heart. (Havik wanted to restore the Chaos that once ravaged Outworld by bringing the heroes' worst enemy back to life as was shown in his non-canon ending). 💔

Mortal Kombat Armageddon (2006):

Havik plays a very minor role due to the large roster. 🎭

He appears as an illusion battling the Edenian demigod Taven. 👻

The real Havik makes his last and final appearance during the battle of Armageddon, joining the forces of darkness in their war against the light. ⚔️

Despite his connection to the Chaos Realm and his defiance of mortal laws, Havik dies during Armageddon. 💀

Comic Book:

In the MKX comic book line, Havik was portrayed as the main antagonist. 🔪

He used the blood code, a powerful form of blood magic, to enchant the kamidogu daggers. 🩸

Anyone cut by these blades would be infected by his possession, allowing him to spread chaos across the realms. 💥

Despite its initial release being canon, the comic book line was later retconned. 📚

Mortal Kombat 1 (2023):

Havik's story in the new era is drastically changed as Liu Kang's vision is one without a Chaos Realm. 🌌

Now, the title "Havik" is given to an already existing MK character named Dairou introduced in MK Deception. 🔱

Dairou was a former god of the Order Realm who was stripped of his title for killing the murderer of his family. ⚖️

Dairou strongly disliked the Order Realm and fought against it actively. ⚔️

Dairou's bio mentions the idea of chaos, but there was no connection between him and Havik until the new era. 🌀

"Once a member of the Seidan Guard. I believed in the power of Order and lived by the strict codes of my superiors. I had saved many lives during my years of service. But when I killed an assailant in a fit of rage, I was arrested and sentenced to a life of incarceration. For all the good I had done, the event that had come to define me was that one moment of Chaos. I eventually escaped during a riot incited by the Resistance. I emerged from prison a changed man. No longer would I follow orders of the Seidan. Neither could I bring myself to give in to Chaos. Instead, I opted to serve myself. I became a mercenary, a warrior for hire, and have become revered in Orderrealm's secret underground. My neutrality has been put to the test, however, as my current contract is to find and kill my former guardsman, Hotaru."

In the new era, Dairou takes on the title of Havik in defiance of the Order Realm. ⚔️

Havik does not have a family in this timeline, as his fall from grace was due to the Order Realm's belief that purging chaos was the only way to save the realm. 👪

Havik forms an uneasy partnership with Quan Chi, who grants him supernatural abilities. 🤝

Havik makes his first appearance in the game during Ashrah's chapter, where he and Darrius hand over a red crystal to Quan Chi to power her soul harvester. 🔴

Havik battles Ashrah but is defeated. ⚔️

Havik later appears at the Ying Fortress, guarding the stronghold and keeping out intruders. 🏰

Havik successfully keeps out intruders until Scorpion and Sub-Zero infiltrate the facility. 🔥❄️

Havik and Darrius are defeated by Scorpion, who melts off half of Havik's face, giving him his iconic look. 💀

Havik's story ends here in the game, but his aftermath is revealed in the game's story. 📜

After the Deadly Alliance crumbles and Titan Shang Tsung is defeated, Havik achieves his goal of cleansing Seido by causing a great flood with the help of Rain. 🌊

Tens of thousands of Seidans die, and Havik turns Seido into an anarchist Utopia. 🌪️

Another Havik emerges after the battle of Armageddon. 🌀

This Havik is a Titan variant with many followers. 🌟

He swears that the next time such madness, murder, and anarchy occur, it will never stop. ⚔️

I am sure that Havik's character will continue to grow and shock us in the most chaotic and unpredictable ways in the future. I can't wait to see him as a main villain. I mean, he definitely showed us in the last minute of the game what he is capable of.

[lynnerdo]

* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Previous Chapter - Herald of the Change Current Chapter - Leaving Caladan

***

The journey to Giedi Prime was a mix of tension and excitement. As the Atreides ship descended, you couldn't ignore the anticipation thrumming through you. Upon arrival, the Harkonnen stronghold appeared as imposing as ever, the atmosphere inside laden with formality. Yet, despite the stoic surroundings, the glances exchanged between you and Feyd were almost giddy with unspoken emotion.

The formalities seemed endless. Feyd stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the cold decorum. When he finally had a chance, he pulled you aside, his eyes filled with gratitude and warmth.

"Let me explain," he began, his voice low. "The Baron made the mistake of using poison from Caladan. Let’s just say I’ve grown quite immune to it."

He smirked, but he meant it, he was happy about it. He wanted to kiss you all over to thank you, but people were watching so he had to find the strength in him to supress the emotions. He spotted right there that you were wearing the pendant he gave you. His eyes turned soft for a few seconds when he looked at you and he had trouble abiding by his own laws.

“Feyd, I-“he cut you off by crashing his lips on yours.

He hadn’t heard your voice in so long, he forgot how mad it used to drive him even before the two of you were married. Fuck formalities, he was Baron now, he would be able to do what he wanted. You kissed him back fiercely, allowing him to press you against the wall of the cold palace, his hand snaking down your back and holding you close to him. His tongue darting on yours, making you blush at how intense and open he was with you.

“I love you, Baroness”, he whispered as he broke the kiss.

Duke Leto and Lady Jessica observed from a distance. Leto's stern expression softened, while Jessica's eyes were bright with a rare joy.

"The path is now set and secured," she said, her voice filled with reassurance and hope.

As the evening wore on, the formal events finally concluded. Your family retired to their quarters, leaving you alone with Feyd. He took your hand, his touch gentle but firm.

"Come with me," he whispered, leading you through the quiet corridors of the Harkonnen stronghold to your private room.

Once inside, Feyd turned to you, his eyes vulnerable. He knelt before you, taking both your hands in his.

"You have my loyalty and my heart."

His voice trembled with emotion, and you felt your own heart swell in response.

"I owe you everything. Your love, your support—it kept me alive. And now, all my dreams for the future, they’re because of you."

Tears welled in your eyes as the depth of his words sank in.

"I love you, beyond anything I ever thought possible," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "Together, we can face any prophecy, any challenge."

His sincere confession made your tears flow freely. You realized in that moment just how deeply you loved each other, how your bond had become unbreakable. Feyd looked up at you, his own eyes moist with emotion, clearly surprised but moved by your tears.

"I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Whatever the future holds, as long as we’re together, I know we can face it."

Feyd rose, pulling you into a tender embrace. The warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around you, made you feel safe and cherished.

"I love you," he murmured into your hair. "More than anything."

As you held each other, the significance of this moment deepened. It felt like the dawn of a new era, a future where your love would conquer all adversities. The prophecies that once seemed daunting now held a glimmer of hope.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

China hacked Verizon, AT&T and Lumen using the FBI’s backdoor

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

State-affiliated Chinese hackers penetrated AT&T, Verizon, Lumen and others; they entered their networks and spent months intercepting US traffic – from individuals, firms, government officials, etc – and they did it all without having to exploit any code vulnerabilities. Instead, they used the back door that the FBI requires every carrier to furnish:

https://www.wsj.com/tech/cybersecurity/u-s-wiretap-systems-targeted-in-china-linked-hack-327fc63b?st=C5ywbp&reflink=desktopwebshare_permalink

In 1994, Bill Clinton signed CALEA into law. The Communications Assistance for Law Enforcement Act requires every US telecommunications network to be designed around facilitating access to law-enforcement wiretaps. Prior to CALEA, telecoms operators were often at pains to design their networks to resist infiltration and interception. Even if a telco didn't go that far, they were at the very least indifferent to the needs of law enforcement, and attuned instead to building efficient, robust networks.

Predictably, CALEA met stiff opposition from powerful telecoms companies as it worked its way through Congress, but the Clinton administration bought them off with hundreds of millions of dollars in subsidies to acquire wiretap-facilitation technologies. Immediately, a new industry sprang into being; companies that promised to help the carriers hack themselves, punching back doors into their networks. The pioneers of this dirty business were overwhelmingly founded by ex-Israeli signals intelligence personnel, though they often poached senior American military and intelligence officials to serve as the face of their operations and liase with their former colleagues in law enforcement and intelligence.

Telcos weren't the only opponents of CALEA, of course. Security experts – those who weren't hoping to cash in on government pork, anyways – warned that there was no way to make a back door that was only useful to the "good guys" but would keep the "bad guys" out.

These experts were – then as now – dismissed as neurotic worriers who simultaneously failed to understand the need to facilitate mass surveillance in order to keep the nation safe, and who lacked appropriate faith in American ingenuity. If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can build a security system that selectively fails when a cop needs it to, but stands up to every crook, bully, corporate snoop and foreign government. In other words: "We have faith in you! NERD HARDER!"

NERD HARDER! has been the answer ever since CALEA – and related Clinton-era initiatives, like the failed Clipper Chip program, which would have put a spy chip in every computer, and, eventually, every phone and gadget:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clipper_chip

America may have invented NERD HARDER! but plenty of other countries have taken up the cause. The all-time champion is former Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull, who, when informed that the laws of mathematics dictate that it is impossible to make an encryption scheme that only protects good secrets and not bad ones, replied, "The laws of mathematics are very commendable, but the only law that applies in Australia is the law of Australia":

https://www.zdnet.com/article/the-laws-of-australia-will-trump-the-laws-of-mathematics-turnbull/

CALEA forced a redesign of the foundational, physical layer of the internet. Thankfully, encryption at the protocol layer – in the programs we use – partially counters this deliberately introduced brittleness in the security of all our communications. CALEA can be used to intercept your communications, but mostly what an attacker gets is "metadata" ("so-and-so sent a message of X bytes to such and such") because the data is scrambled and they can't unscramble it, because cryptography actually works, unlike back doors. Of course, that's why governments in the EU, the US, the UK and all over the world are still trying to ban working encryption, insisting that the back doors they'll install will only let the good guys in:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

Any back door can be exploited by your adversaries. The Chinese sponsored hacking group know as Salt Typhoon intercepted the communications of hundreds of millions of American residents, businesses, and institutions. From that position, they could do NSA-style metadata-analysis, malware injection, and interception of unencrypted traffic. And they didn't have to hack anything, because the US government insists that all networking gear ship pre-hacked so that cops can get into it.

This isn't even the first time that CALEA back doors have been exploited by a hostile foreign power as a matter of geopolitical skullduggery. In 2004-2005, Greece's telecommunications were under mass surveillance by US spy agencies who wiretapped Greek officials, all the way up to the Prime Minister, in order to mess with the Greek Olympic bid:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greek_wiretapping_case_2004%E2%80%9305

This is a wild story in so many ways. For one thing, CALEA isn't law in Greece! You can totally sell working, secure networking gear in Greece, and in many other countries around the world where they have not passed a stupid CALEA-style law. However the US telecoms market is so fucking huge that all the manufacturers build CALEA back doors into their gear, no matter where it's destined for. So the US has effectively exported this deliberate insecurity to the whole planet – and used it to screw around with Olympic bids, the most penny-ante bullshit imaginable.

Now Chinese-sponsored hackers with cool names like "Salt Typhoon" are traipsing around inside US telecoms infrastructure, using the back doors the FBI insisted would be safe.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/07/foreseeable-outcomes/#calea

Image: Kris Duda, modified https://www.flickr.com/photos/ahorcado/5433669707/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[dottores]

okay well, i logged back in, obviously, because there are clearly some things that need to be addressed and have been taken out of context. just because i’m leaving doesn’t mean i should sit here and let my name be smeared. 

to preface this, anantaru and i had a discussion where we came to a congenial understanding of what happened, there's been an acknowledgment on both sides of misunderstanding and believing distorted rumors and people that we probably should not have, but i’m still going to give a full explanation as to the background of everything so you all can understand and come to your own opinions. plus, if there's going to be a call-out post directed majorly at me made, i want an official address of it.

please do NOT send any hate their way, we have ended this discussion on good terms and have worked out what exactly was stirring this discourse between us. (spoiler alert: there was a third-party shit-stirrer that we both considered a decent friend at the time!)

i don’t really need a reason to block someone, and i shouldn’t have to explain it, but i did and i will again but more explicitly this time: @/anantaru made a post that i did not like. it’s as simple as that. it was a post about genshin characters and sex icks and one of the lines were “venti: too drunk.” i’m not anti-dc, but there are topics that i am sensitive about because i was sa’d in my freshman year of college—that is something i have talked about on this blog before, many of you who've been around since my tr era are aware of it. i acknowledged, and tee acknowledged, that this was probably a joke and was not meant to be taken the way i took it, but the aloof/casual way it was mentioned without any TW of implied dubcon, and without acknowledging that it was at least dubcon and could border on noncon in certain interpretations made me uncomfortable. i don’t mind seeing it as long as i’m warned. if it was tagged properly, i would have moved on without much care, but it wasn’t, so i was scrolling through the post snorting and was hit with that and i was made uncomfortable because i didn't like how it was just being passed off as an ick, and i blocked. there was no reason for it to go beyond what it did, yet we are here. anantaru mentioned that if you frequent their blog, you would know that they often write about venti and reader being drunk—i don’t frequent their blog, in fact this was my first encounter with them being reblogged onto my dash by shared mutuals, so it rubbed me wrong. thats the end of it. 

i’m not sure the exact timing, but i believe it was two(?) weeks after this, when i reblogged an unpopular opinion’s post with an opinion that i thought was fairly harmless. sure, looking back on it i could have phrased it better, i’m not going to deny that, but pinpointing my one opinion out of the hundreds of others that were objectively far more controversial than mine and crucifying me for it is uncalled for. you guys know very well that i do not have the time or energy to sift through random people’s blogs to look for minors. every once in a while i glance at the notes of shit posts that happen to be on my dash and i’d be a bit startled at finding a minor in them because i still do think you should at least try to catch minors who interact with shit posts because that’s the easiest way to find them. but i was working at a medium sized firm for a year and a half at the time of the post and i am currently in law school, i do not have the time to be psychotic about people’s likes and interaction, and even if i did have the time?? i’ve always gotten incredible interaction from y’all lmfao, imposing the idea that i’m jealous is entirely inane. i do still stand by the fact that my words were twisted, i was made out, more than once and by more than one person after the next bullet point's events, to have been some psycho that stalks peoples’ posts for excuses as to why they get interaction when that is simply not the case. 

regardless, after this incident, anantaru made a vague post that was almost directly quoting my tags from the reblog and was thus sent to me because many shared mutuals put together that it was about my tags. this was upsetting for multiple reasons 1) i had blocked anantaru by this point so i felt a bit violated that i was being vagued for something by someone that i blocked. 2) i started getting hate anons en masse after it, some of which were very unnecessarily explicit. needless to say, i was very upset and made a subpost on my main account after noticing i’ve been blocked on ao3 because 1) i was already upset and i didn’t even know why anantaru seemed to have it out for me much less go to the point of blocking on ao3 which leads into my next point and 2) i thought it was a bit ridiculous because the only thing blocking on ao3 stops is people from commenting on posts and i clearly was not going to comment on a post of someone who i was not on good terms with. reasoning aside, anantaru can block who they want and i was out of line for making comments about that in particular. i’ll admit that, and apologize for it. 

a screenshot was taken from my personal—not a good moment for me, obviously, but anantaru claimed in their post that it was about them with no evidence. i dmed them about this in particular because i was genuinely confused, we spoke about it, i offered them proof that it was not them because i had a discussion about this post with a close friend at the time of posting it and they believed me. i will attach screenshots below (cropped because there's no reason to attach the whole conversation) because i feel as if this accusation was rather extreme and i wish it would’ve been removed because it was obviously not my best moment. an explanation for the post itself, i was upset over plagiarism accusations regarding something i put my heart and soul into and then seeing the same person that made them consistently on my dash just straight up triggered me, for lack of a better word lol, so i made a vent on my personal. how it got misconstrued as to be anything about anantaru is baffling to me but i suppose that's a question for the subject of our next bullet point. i don’t want to go into detail about the accusations in themselves because i don’t want people to send the actual person who it’s about hate. regardless, that post was not about anantaru, i have never called them a cunt nor have i ever called them a gatekeepy cunt, though i’m beginning to think i should probably remove the word from my vocabulary atp, i use it far too flippantly. anyway, i do not know them well enough to formulate any sort of opinion like that. aside from that, in our discussion we came to an understanding over it and i wish that would have been cleared on their blog as wel. so i'll attach here (i crossed some out because i don't want to breach any boundaries regarding what anantaru might be comfortable sharing but i do think it's fair for me to want this particular point fully cleared as it was a bold accusation remaining up):

5. in our discussion, we came to realize that we have/had a shared mutual who was fostering discourse between the two of us. many of you will recognize her as audri aka alucrds, who has supposedly left tumblr by this point—i suspected this and anantaru has confirmed it while we were talking. audri was sending anantaru my posts claiming that they were about anantaru, but i will stress that the only actual discussions i ever had with anyone about anantaru was with tee and eris about that initial joke because it had upset me at the time, it never extended beyond that and it certainly was never with audri. my only conversation with audri that mentioned anantaru at all was probably around a week or so after i made the post in point 3, when audri asked me about ao3 blocking in casual conversation and i offhandedly mentioned that anantaru had blocked me on there—audri was a close friend at that point and iirc, she had actually told me right after that that anantaru had her blocked on tumblr, i had no idea that they'd been mutuals at all but either way, it was an offhanded comment that led to nowhere (or so i thought LOL). looking back on it, it was clearly her baiting me into giving her information about the post i made a week or so prior because after talking with anantaru, they explained that they got an anonymous message claiming that i was shit talking them for blocking them on ao3 and the only person that could have put together that the vent post from point 3 was about anantaru was audri herself. audri continued to evidently cherry-pick random vent posts of mine to show anantaru and claim that they were about them. why? i wish i could tell you. i considered audri a decent enough friend, and though she had her fair share of issues with mutuals and other friends of mine, i never really thought she’d stoop to this with me. but i guess there’s really no explaining people who thrive in discourse.

6. my comment in my most recent post about being harassed on ao3 and in comments and in asks was not about them at all. i thought it was very clearly about heliotropes (my dottore series) and pressure to update from certain readers, but i'm clarifying that now.

7. i never intended on directly addressing this, which is why i did not directly name anantaru in my post, if i’d known at the time that tee was going to end up addressing all of this, i would’ve just been straight up with all of it.

anyway, i think that’s all, hopefully this will be the last post for real as i am tired mentally and now i am also physically sleep deprived. i've been up since three so forgive me for typos and grammar errors. this all has gone on for over a year. sorry for all the discourse on y'all's dash, wish i could have left with a bit more grace than this. rumors have been blown out of proportions and blindly believed, things have been taken out of context, such is life. i made my fair share of mistakes on my personal blog with my vents, others have admitted and owned up to their own mistakes, some will never admit to their mistakes. such is life. it moves on, always does. i know all of y'all are smart enough to come to your own opinions.

over and out, sorry again, and logged out (hopefully for real this time),

cat