#jake posted and al the comments were like

[tessathenerd]

If I had a nickel for each time one of my celebrity crushes started dating one of the paul brothers. I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happend twice right.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Four

Fool's Fare: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Triggers: Serious discussions, Flirting, Language, Falling overboard. I think that's it.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hey! Long time, no see kind of. I know it's been a HOT minute since I've updated this story, but I'm hoping to update it a little more now that Don't Hang'em Til Noon has basically wrapped. Hanging By a Moment will be out probably sometime in the next month, but we'll see! In the meantime, enjoy! Anyway, it's a little shorter than my usual chapters, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of this story a little bit. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I post my updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Your head was pounding something awful as you came to. The light was blinding as the sun filtered in through the window, the crash of waves echoing up and through the room. You were nestled comfortably against a plush pillow, your body cradled by the soft mattress beneath you. You let out a groan as you moved to sit up, pressing against your temples in the process.

“Well, good morning!”

You whipped your head around to look at the source of the voice, wincing as the sudden movement caused a flash of pain behind your eyes. Natasha sat perched on the bed opposite yours, a grin stretched across her face as she watched you.

“What?” You muttered, squinting your eyes at her in confusion. “What’s going on?”

You didn’t remember much from the night before, just the faint memory of tears and two different feelings of shock mixed in with passing faces and jeers.

“You had a lot to drink last night, Guppy,” she smirked at you, one leg propped up to lean against as she studied you, amusement still shining bright in her eyes. “Came up from the galley to find you asleep in bed with Jake sitting there right next to you. It was a sight for sure.”

You groaned once again as the events of the night before came rushing back to you, hiding your face in your hands. The reveal of your father’s past. The ale the men kept handing you. Bradley’s betrayal. Jake knowing who you were all along. The feel of his hand on your cheek.

You peeked through your fingers to look at the other woman. A smile ghosted on her lips, widening the longer you looked at her.

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” she assured you. “Everyone on this ship has done something they aren’t proud of after too much ale.”

“Nonetheless,” you muttered, dropping your hands back down into your lap, “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m not usually like that.”

“I believe you,” she smiled. “It must have been quite the shock to get all of that information in one go.”

“It was.”

“So,” she hummed, her smile shifting into a conspiratorial smirk. “Why’d you do it?”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Do what?”

“Why’d you sneak on the ship?” She scoffed, leaning back against the wall, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together as she continued to watch you.

“Oh,” you murumured, glancing away and towards the window. It had to be almost noon with how bright it was outside. How long had you been asleep? “I did it to make sure Bradley stayed safe.”

She quirked an eyebrow at you and you sighed, fidgeting with the blanket in your lap.

“He’s the only family I have left,” you whispered, fighting back the tears that threatened to make an appearance. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to him and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Natasha didn’t say anything for a moment, instead moving to stand, walking over towards her wardrobe on the other side of the room. You watched her rummage through, pulling out several different pieces of clothing.

“Here,” she said, tossing some of the pieces to you. You caught them, looking at her in confusion. She chuckled before starting to change. “I figured you’d want a change of clothes. You’ve been wearing your old ones for a while now.”

You eyed the clothes in your lap before moving to change as well. Once the two of you were decent, she headed for the door with you hot on her heels. Her hand hovered over the door knob as she turned to look back at you.

“Guppy?”

“Yes?”

“What you did was really brave.”

“You idiot!” You shrieked, throwing your shoe with all of your might. It launched across the deck, hitting Bradley squarely in the shoulder as he flinched, his hands shooting up to try and block the offending item.

“I know, but why?” He hollered, looking around for any way to escape. Several of the men on deck watched the scene with amusement, some already cackling at the large men cowering in fear as you stalked towards him.

“They all knew, Bradley,” you hissed, punching the meat of his arm once you were close enough. He winced, rubbing the spot lightly as he glanced from you to the rest of the crew.

“Knew what?”

“Knew that I was a girl,” you growled, placing your hands on your hips as you glared at him. He stared at you for a moment, mind struggling to catch up. Another moment passed before a light of realization sparked in his eyes, and he looked around wildly at the crew, some nodding and shrugging.

“They knew?” He breathed, eyes darting to your smaller form hesitantly.

“The whole time, in fact,” you groused, now crossing your arms over your chest. He swallowed thickly, a sheepish smile crawling onto his face.

“Oh,” he chuckled nervously. “Oops.”

You landed a solid punch to his upper arm, causing him to cry out.

“Would you stop that?” He snapped, dodging your next blow and maneuvering so that he held your forearms in his hands. “That hurts, you know.”

“Good!” You shot back, still glaring at him. “You deserve it after everything.”

“It was an honest mistake!” He reasoned. “How was I supposed to know the disguise wouldn’t work?”

“It’s not just about the disguise, Bradley.”

His face went slack at your words, a mixture of regret and guilt flooding his brown eyes as the effect of your words rushed over him. No one on the deck spoke or moved as the two of you stared each other down.

“Alright you lot,” Javy called out from the upper deck. All eyes turned to where he stood, a stern expression on his face as he looked over the crowd. “Get back to work. There’s still lots to do before we dock tomorrow.”

Your eyes darted from him to meet the green ones already on you. Jake had a bemused expression on his face as he watched you while leaning against the rails, a twinkle of something that you couldn’t name shining in his eyes. A smirk tugged on his lips as you stared at him, shooting a wink your way before standing up straight and turning to move back towards the cabins. You felt your cheeks warm, glancing back at Bradley who was already watching you with a knowing look. Your irritation with the man was renewed and you pushed at him with all your might, sending him stumbling back a couple of steps.

“You lied to me.”

“He didn’t want me to tell you, Guppy,” he sighed. “He didn’t want you to know that part of him.”

“So instead,” you seethed, “I had to find out from strangers instead of my own brother.”

He had the good sense to look ashamed, and he looked away from you and out towards the sea. “You shouldn’t have found out about it like that.”

“You’re damn right I shouldn’t have,” you huffed.

He peeked over at you, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to watch him now. Bradley was your brother, and no matter how much of an idiot he could be at times, you still couldn’t stay mad at him for long. The anger drained from your body, replaced with a calm sense of acceptance as you turned to look out at the sea with him.

“Are you hungry?” You asked. He shook his head, grimacing.

“No, not at all.”

You turned to look at him again, worry now etched across your face as the wind whipped your hair about.

“Bradley,” you started, “when was the last time that you ate? You didn’t eat much last night.”

He gave you a noncommital shrug, avoiding your eyes as he answered.

“Guess it’s been a while.”

“Are you not feeling well?” You hummed, reaching over to feel his forehead. He shirked away from you, eyeing you warily.

“I’m fine, Guppy, really.”

“If you aren’t eating, then you aren’t fine,” you scowled. “We’ll have to go see a doctor when we dock.”

“Guppy-”

“No buts,” you said firmly. “We’re going in the morning.”

“You know, you’ve caused not one, but two scenes on my ship now.”

You whirled around to meet a familiar green gaze. Jake’s lips were tugged into his signature smirk as he regarded you. Your cheeks once again warmed under his gaze, and you pursed your lips as you gazed back at the water before you.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled. “It’s fun having a fiery little thing like yourself on board. Keeps things from growing monotonous.”

“I’m glad I could at least serve as your entertainment,” you muttered with a roll of you eyes. He appeared beside you, resting up against the edge of the ship as he continued to watch you. It was just the two of you on the deck, the rest of the crew having moved down into the galley for dinner. You had stayed behind to bask in a rare moment of solitude, but now you welcomed the company.

“It’s better than nothing, I suppose,” he hummed thoughtfully.

“I want to be treated like a regular member of your crew, captain.”

He threw his head back with a hearty laugh, his voice almost echoing off the walls.

“Pretty girl, that is the last thing you want.”

You turned to him with a scowl. It grew deeper as his smirk widened, and you felt the creeping coolness of night crawl across your skin as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

“And why is that?” You demanded, raising your chin at him in defiance. His gaze dropped down for a moment before he locked his gaze back with yours, leaning in closer. He was so close that you could feel his breath tickle the skin of your cheeks, and you sucked in a breath.

“Because,” he drawled, his nose brushing yours. “If you were one of my men, I’d have you walk the plank for even sneaking on here in the first place.”

You snorted, but sobered when his face remained impassive.

“You can’t be serious.”

“As the dead, darlin’.”

He pushed away from you, sauntering over to pick up a board lying off to the side. With a grunt, he lifted it, placing it at the opening where the gangway would normally sit. He secured it down, and once he was sure that it was steady, he turned to you expectantly. You stared at him, unsure of what to do, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You want to be treated as a regular member of the crew, don’t you?” He taunted, the faintest hint of humor still in his eyes. You pursed your lips, throwing your shoulders back as you marched towards him. You eyed the wooden board warily, glancing back at the blond who looked at you expectantly. You turned back around, taking a hesitant step onto the board.

“You’re not going to back out?” He called to you as you took a couple more steps, now standing precariously over the water. You glanced back at him.

“Not on your life, captain,” you smirked. “I want to be a member of this crew.”

The humor was gone from his face as he watched you take another step, his lips pressed into a thin line. You were at the edge now, and you looked back at him with a brow raised in challenge.

“Dammit, alright,” he grumbled, eyes darting between you and the water below. “You’ve proven your point. Just get back over here.”

You smiled triumphantly, carefully maneuvering to turn around and head back when a sudden gust of wind knocked you off your balance. You stumbled back, but there was nothing there to catch you and you caught the briefest glimpse of Jake’s eyes widening in shock as you plummeted to the depths below.

The water was cold, shocking you when you hit the waves. You were suspended for a moment, panic not having set in yet. Swirls of blue blurred your vision, nonexistent shadows reaching up from the deep to grab at you.

You scrambled towards the surface, kicking your legs in a desperate attempt for air. You felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, dragging you upwards until you broke the surface. You sucked in a lungful of air, eyes darting around until they landed on Jake’s form next to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over. You nodded, not entirely sure if you were or not, but knowing that you were still alive. Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as he turned to look back at the ship. You heard the distant sound of shouting, becoming hyper aware of Jake’s arms wrapped around you as the two of you bobbed with the waves.

“Lucky for you,” he continued, “Javy saw you fall and moved the crew to action while I dove in after you.”

You didn’t say anything, starting to shiver as the adrenaline caught up with you. Without thinking, you rested your head against his chest, seeking out the warmth he gave off. You could have sworn his grip tightened, but you heard the sound of one of the life boats hitting the water, and relief sank over you.

Moments later, Reuben was reaching his hands out to grab you, Jake passing you to him as he helped lift you into the boat. You tumbled onto the floor, landing at Mickey’s feet as he scrambled to wrap a blanket around you. Jake landed next to you, waving off Reuben as he began to inspect you more thoroughly.

“I’m fine,” you muttered as he ran his hands over your arms. He ignored you, brow furrowed in silent concentration. When he was sure that you were fine, he nodded at the two other men.

“Let’s get back to the ship.”

Humiliation washed over you as you were once again standing on the main deck. Bradley was front and center, dashing over to you to conduct his own investigation into your well being. You pouted, eyes refusing to leave the floor. You could feel the stares on your drenched form, and you struggled to keep from shivering in the cool night air. A rustling came from behind you, and you jumped when a heavy coat was draped over you. Jake must have shrugged it off before diving in after you because it was still dry as it sat on your shoulders.

You turned, seeing Jake fixing the crew with a glare.

“What are you all staring at?” He asked coldly, leveling each man with a stare. “Get back to work or out of my sight.”

The rest of the crew quickly scrambled to obey, none of them daring to give you another look as Jake rested a hand on your shoulder. You burrowed into the warmth of the leather, inhaling the scent that lingered. Clean linen and a hint of musk. It should have worried you how it set your mind at ease almost instantly.

“Guppy, what were you thinking,” harped Bradley, brushing wet strands of hair out of your face. You stared at him, feeling Jake stiffen behind you. Refusing to meet the brunette’s eyes, you offered him a slight shrug.

“Must have leaned too far over the railing, Roo,” you muttered, your fingers fidgeting with the ends of the coat. “It won’t happen again.”

Bradley didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t say anything as he glanced up at Jake.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jake grumbled, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder. You watched him gesture towards someone, and Natasha popped up to stand beside you.

“See to it she gets some rest,” he told her, his eyes glancing to you before landing back on her. She nodded, wrapping her arms gently around you as she began to guide you towards the cabins.

“Guppy.”

You stopped, turning back to look at him. His sea-green eyes wandered over you, his jaw flexing like he was mulling over what to say. He locked eyes with you, and you once again caught a flash of swirling blue before it disappeared. You frowned, wondering what you just saw, but Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

[mariacallous]

An unprecedented wave of small blasts erupted across Lebanon on Tuesday, killing at least 11 people and injuring nearly 2,800 after the wireless pagers of Hezbollah members began exploding, according to local officials.

Pagers started exploding at around 3:30 pm local time, according to a statement from Hezbollah officials, who say that “various Hezbollah units and institutions” were impacted in the incident. The blasts continued for more than an hour, according to Reuters. A Hezbollah statement says a “large” number of people were injured and said they suffered from a wide variety of injuries.

In the immediate aftermath of the explosions, CCTV and phone footage posted to social media, which has not been independently verified, appears to show hospitals flooded with wounded people, as well as apparent explosions happening around waist height and images of damaged pagers. People with links to the region say the explosions caused street-level chaos.

“Hezbollah’s competent agencies are currently conducting a wide-ranging security and scientific investigation to determine the causes that led to these simultaneous explosions,” Hezbollah said in an initial statement.

Earlier Tuesday, Lebanon’s health minister, Firass Abiad, said 2,750 people had been wounded with 200 being critically injured. The country’s internal security unit made an urgent request for people to keep off the roads to allow people to be transferred to hospitals. Iran’s ambassador to Lebanon was injured in the blasts; separately, the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights said 14 people in the country had been injured by pager explosions.

The perpetrator of the attack is widely believed to be Israel—fighting between Israel and Hezbollah, which is backed by Iran, has intensified since October 7 last year when Hamas fighters attacked Israel. In a second statement issued after the explosions, reported by Al Jazeera, Hezbollah blames Israel for the “criminal aggression that targeted civilians too.”

The Israel Defense Forces told WIRED it has “no comment.” Reuters reported that an unnamed “Hezbollah official” described the operation as the "biggest security breach" the group has faced in nearly a year of fighting with Israel.

It was not immediately clear how the attack was carried out. Initial reports on social media speculated that the pager explosions might have been triggered by digital hacking that caused the pagers’ batteries to overheat and explode. One report by the Lebanese Broadcast Corporation described preliminary reporting about a possible cyberattack. “According to information obtained by LBCI, initial reports suggest the pager server was compromised, leading to the installation of a script that caused an overload. This likely resulted in the overheating of the lithium battery, which then exploded.”

Footage posted on social media claiming to show examples of the explosions from around the country depict blasts that seemed too large to come from pager batteries alone. One photo circulating widely appeared to show a mangled pager with some legible make and model information that may point to the Gold Apollo AP-900 alphanumeric pager. Other reports indicate the pager model is the Gold Apollo AR-924, which has a lithium-ion battery.

The AP-900 runs on two AAA batteries, which, like any battery, could be induced to explode, but likely not with such force and scale as the explosions depicted in alleged videos of the blasts. If the pagers used by Hezbollah are the AR-924 or another model that runs on lithium-ion batteries, which can cause more dangerous explosions, it’s still unlikely that a regular pager battery alone could produce blasts that could injure multiple people.

“Those explosions aren’t just batteries,” says Jake Williams, vice president of research and development at Hunter Strategy who formerly worked for the US National Security Agency. “Based on the reporting, these pagers were likely interdicted by Israeli authorities and modified with explosives. This highlights the risks of supply chain security, especially in places where technology is harder to ship to.”

Gold Apollo did not immediately respond to WIRED's request for comment.

Williams points out that such an operation would likely involve operatives on both the tech distribution side and the Hezbollah procurement side. “You compromise the supply chain, but you don't want thousands of explosive pagers running around Lebanon,” he says. “The mole gets them to exactly the right people.”

Some reports on Tuesday indicate that Hezbollah recently expanded its use of pagers in an attempt to secure communications after other channels had been infiltrated by Israeli intelligence. The Associated Press reported that an anonymous “Hezbollah official” said the group had recently adopted a “new brand” of pagers that “first heated up, then exploded.”

“It's unlikely that hacking was involved, as it's likely that explosive material had to be inside the pagers to cause such an effect,” says Lukasz Olejnik, an independent consultant and visiting senior research fellow at King’s College London’s Department of War Studies. “Reports mention the delivery of new pagers recently, so perhaps the delivery was compromised.”

Michael Horowitz, head of intelligence at Middle East and North Africa risk management company Le Beck International, says if the attack is supply-chain-based, then it could have taken years to prepare and involved infiltrating a supplier and placing explosives inside new pagers.

“This is a major security breach, particularly if we’re talking about a charge that was placed inside the devices—which, in my opinion, is the most likely scenario,” Horowitz says. “This would mean that Israel has managed to infiltrate Hezbollah providers to the point of delivering hundreds (if not thousands) of devices used for secured communication.”

The incident comes amid escalations of fighting between Israel and Hezbollah in recent months, raising fears of a full-blown war. In the hours before the explosions on Tuesday, Israel said its war goals would include allowing 60,000 people to return to Northern Israel after they were evacuated following Hezbollah attacks, and it would not rule out military action.

Horowitz says the incident could be a “prelude to a broader offensive” and possibly meant to disrupt Hezbollah’s communications networks. It is likely that replacing a large number of pagers would take some time to organize. Alternatively, Horowitz says, the attack could also have been conducted to show the “scale of Israel's intelligence penetration.”

“This is a high-value operation that you wouldn't use just to cause injuries,” Horowitz says.

Even if the blasts were not caused by a cyber-physical attack that induced the pager batteries to explode, it's still possible that explosives planted in the pagers were detonated using a remote command, possibly even a specially crafted pager message. Some footage appeared to show users checking their pagers right as the explosions occurred, though this could have been coincidental.

The operation could have a psychological impact on Hezbollah given that bombs may have been lurking undetected in such an unassuming device. And though Tuesday’s attacks were notably aggressive, it would not be the first time Israeli intelligence has reportedly planted explosives in electronics.

[jcmarchi]

UAE blocks US congressional meetings with G42 amid AI transfer concerns

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/uae-blocks-us-congressional-meetings-with-g42-amid-ai-transfer-concerns/

UAE blocks US congressional meetings with G42 amid AI transfer concerns

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There have been reports that the United Arab Emirates (UAE) has “suddenly cancelled” the ongoing series of meetings between a group of US congressional staffers and Emirati AI firm G42, after some US lawmakers raised concerns that this practice may lead to the transfer of advanced American AI technology to China.

However, a congressional spokesperson, who provided this information, chose to remain anonymous due to internal committee policy, as reported by Reuters.

The order was given directly by the UAE’s ambassador to the US, who halted the meetings between staffers from the House Select Committee on China and G42, as well as various Emirati government officials. This development only adds fuel to the fire of high tensions surrounding the scrutiny of G42 amid a $1.5 billion agreement with Microsoft. Some US congresspeople are already worried about sensitive technology getting into the hands of a UAE firm that reportedly has Chinese ties.

The committee’s spokesperson expressed increased concerns regarding the G42-Microsoft deal due to the UAE’s unwillingness to engage in talks. “Expect Congress to become more involved in overseeing these negotiations,” the spokesperson said.

The cancelled meetings may signal a diplomatic crisis due to the increased attention of China hawks in Congress. The efforts of these lawmakers to closely scrutinise the G42-Microsoft deal have particularly sparked controversies. Members of Congress are focused on ensuring that sensitive AI developments and products resulting from the agreement will not be diverted by the Emiratis to China.

The State Department gave no comment, whereas G42 directed the media to the Emirati government. The UAE embassy spokesperson announced that the situation resulted from a “miscommunication,” as they were notified of the staff delegation just the day before their planned arrival. The embassy emphasised its regular engagement with committee members and staffers in recent months, asserting that the committee has been kept informed about joint UAE-US efforts to strengthen control over critical advanced technologies.

The congressional staffers had planned these meetings as part of a regional visit from July 16-19. Their agenda included discussions on the transfer of sophisticated chips from companies like Nvidia to the UAE and Saudi Arabia, as well as US-China tech competition.

Ambassador Yousef Al Otaiba cited a July 11 letter from committee chairman John Moolenaar to US National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan as the reason for the cancellations. This letter, co-signed by House Foreign Affairs chair Michael McCaul, requested a White House intelligence briefing on Microsoft’s investment in G42 before the deal could progress to its second phase, which would involve transferring export-restricted semiconductor chips from Nvidia and sophisticated AI model weights.

The Biden administration has taken a positive view of the G42-Microsoft deal, stating that G42’s severance from China’s Huawei has been a major positive factor for the deal. However, last year, the administration also imposed sweeping curbs on AI chip exports, requiring licenses for shipments under a more restrictive policy than the previous Trump administration. Additionally, the policy of restricting exports to China requires licenses for exports to the UAE and some other Middle Eastern countries.

It is noted that a regional visit by a congressional delegation took place, during which they met with Saudi officials who expressed a desire to alleviate US companies’ concerns about the activities of the Chinese government in Saudi Arabia. Their goal was to obtain permission to import advanced American chips.

The level of interaction between US and other countries’ authorities illustrates the link between technological innovation, international political relationships, and national security issues.

See also: UAE unveils new AI model to rival big tech giants

Want to learn more about AI and big data from industry leaders? Check out AI & Big Data Expo taking place in Amsterdam, California, and London. The comprehensive event is co-located with other leading events including Intelligent Automation Conference, BlockX, Digital Transformation Week, and Cyber Security & Cloud Expo.

Explore other upcoming enterprise technology events and webinars powered by TechForge here.

Tags: artificial intelligence, China, uae, usa

[bobfloydsbabe]

now that you're close (i feel like coming undone) || robert "bob" floyd x oc

Rating: T+

Prompt/request: Bob and Abby at a navy ball (requested)

Summary: At a navy ball thrown in the Dagger Squad's honor, Bob and Abby reach a pivotal moment in their relationship. Part of the Golden Hour anthology series.

Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff, hot and heavy kissing, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of sex and nudes but neither actually happens, incorrect navy stuff because this is my fic and I can do what I want. Probably other things I've forgotten.

Word count: 3.3k (it was supposed to be a blurb. idk what happened either.)

A/N: First, I know the gif isn't from TGM, but it's perfect for this fic, so leave me alone. Second, I teased this fic endlessly over the weekend, but my perfectionist ass wasn't happy with it, so it took a while to post. Third, thank you so much to Lyra (@natrace) for requesting this. Special shout out to Anna for helping me name Bob's old pilot. Title is from Untouchable by Taylor Swift. Enjoy, friends.

likes are nice, but comments and reblogs are golden.

Technically, Abby wasn’t invited.

The celebratory gala was reserved for the people who actively ensured the success of the Uranium Plant mission, and Abby didn’t meet that requirement according to the higher ups.

So, when she walked into the hall, her arm linked with that of Admiral Bates, Bob nearly choked on his ginger ale.

“You okay there, Bob?”

Bob coughed a few times, his eyes never leaving Abby as the Admiral led her around the room making introductions.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, offering a quick glance at Hangman before looking back towards Abby, whose smile was bright and genuine as they shook hands with a two-star Admiral with graying hair.

The pilot’s eyes followed Bob’s line of sight, and a broad grin spread across his face, realization replacing the confusion. “Ah, your lady’s here.”

Bob’s head whipped back, eyes wide and alarmed. They had done everything they could to keep their relationship private. Of course, the other aviators knew they’d gone on a couple of dates, but besides Phoenix, none of them knew just how deep it was.

Bob opened his mouth to object, to correct him, but Hangman’s raised eyebrow made him close his mouth again.

Phoenix and Rooster joined the pair, champagne glasses in hand. “How the hell the Abby snag an invitation?”

Bob barely paid attention to them. His eyes continued to follow his girlfriend around the room.

The moniker still felt foreign in his mouth. The first time he saw Abby was burned in his mind, and he remembered his heart beating a little faster as he watched her.

She had rounded the corner of the opening to the hangar and walked with purposeful strides toward Admiral Bates. She’d stopped next to him, a small smile on her lips and friendly conversation had flowed between them. Bob remembered that his front seater, Oz, had admonished him for staring.

He couldn’t help it then, and he definitely couldn’t help it now. 

“You’re just mad your girlfriend wasn’t invited,” Phoenix commented to Rooster, making Jake let out a loud laugh. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Bob took his eyes off Abby, his attention back to his friends and their bickering. Almost dying together had brought them closer, and Bob had never felt like he belonged more than with these people. It was a little odd to present them with a ribbon for a classified mission, but they were all here and alive, and that counted for something.

“I didn’t say a name,” Phoenix told Rooster, whose ears turned red.

Jake clapped a hand on Rooster’s shoulder. “Don’t play dumb, Bradshaw. We all know you and Kennedy are a thing, just like Baby on Board and Abby are banging like rabbits.”

Bob’s mouth fell open. “Wha… we’re not… no.”

Natasha had buried her face in her hand. Rooster was looking anywhere but at Hangman, and Hangman himself had a smug and self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Don’t take after Rooster and play dumb with me, Bob,” he drawled, his Texas twang permeating every word. “When was the last time you spent a night on base?”

Heat spread through Bob’s cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and though he wasn’t ashamed that he stayed with Abby most of the time, he was uncomfortable with knowing that someone had noticed. That Hangman had noticed.

Bob adjusted his glasses. “I don’t know how she got an invitation,” he said, assuming Hangman’s question was rhetorical, and even if it wasn’t, Bob couldn’t remember. He enjoyed staying with Abby.

Bob had left her apartment in the early afternoon with a promise to see her tonight after the event. He’d asked about her plans, and she said she was going to the Hard Deck with Kennedy for a couple of drinks since they weren’t invited.

He turned his attention back to Abby, who was still making the rounds with Warlock, smiling widely and shaking hands. Her silky dark hair fell in effortless waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her dress was midnight blue, simple and elegant, with thin straps that crossed delicately in the back. From her ears dangled small golden pendant earrings, and all Bob wanted to do was go to her and be next to her.

“You’re a lucky man, Bob,” Phoenix said, bumping his shoulder with hers, and Bob smiled down at his pilot.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

He sipped his ginger ale and made conversation with the other aviators. He shook hands with admirals and captains, and said thank you when they congratulated him on the squad’s success, all while his eyes were drawn to Abby.

After the mission, they’d all been granted extended leave. Bob had thought about going home to see his family, go back to his small town and see his friends from school, catch up with them. He could have gone home and spent more time with his brother and his niece, who was almost two now. He could have done all of that with his leave, but didn’t.

At first, it was just a couple of days. He wanted more time with Abby, and although they hadn’t had the conversation about what exactly they were then, he knew he couldn’t leave her right away. A couple of days turned into a week, then two weeks, and then he stayed. He FaceTimed with his family instead, and even though it broke his heart hearing his niece ask for Uncle Bob, he didn’t want to leave Abby.

Now his leave was almost up, and the idea of going back to Lemoore alone seemed like the hardest task in the world. It made his chest feel tight, and like his lungs couldn’t get enough air.

Before the Admiral and Abby could reach the squad, they were called to dinner, and Bob was left disappointed not to have a moment to talk to her. To ask how she got an invitation. To feel the warmth of her hand in his, although her hands were usually cold despite the California heat.

After they had cleared the main course from the table and they waited for dessert, Cyclone took the stage to address the gathering. He droned on about how he always had faith in the mission, in the squad. He knew Maverick could teach them and that Ice would be proud of what they’d accomplished.

Bob exchanged skeptical glances with his squad, knowing full-well that Cyclone had tried his hardest to get Maverick pulled off the mission, so he could take over himself. He hadn’t trusted any of them as far as he could throw them.

Then they were called to the stage to receive their ribbon. For a mission that was supposed to be top secret, they made a big spectacle out of it. After plenty of handshaking, a couple of photographs that would never see the light of day, and an awkward Oscar-worthy acceptance speech from Maverick, they were sent back to their seats for dessert.

On his way back, he finally caught Abby’s eye, and she beamed at him, pride in her dark eyes. Heat filled his cheeks again even as he offered her a wink he hoped was subtle enough for no one else to notice.

After dessert, the party spread. People danced to the sound of a string quartet, and Coyote complained it was boring while Fanboy argued it was classy. Payback had taken Nat for a turn about the makeshift dance floor, and Bob stood next to Rooster, who had his nose buried in his phone. Hangman headed back their way with a disappointed look on his face, having struck out with the aircrew member he’d flirted with relentlessly.

The poor girl was snickering with another aircrew member while his back was turned, and Bob smiled, knowing Jake’s charm didn’t win every time.

“Zero better be sending you nudes if you’re smiling like that at your phone,” Hangman said to Rooster once he reached them. “You look almost as love struck as Bob.”

“At least we have someone, Hangman,” Rooster fired back, slipping his phone into the pocket of his dress pants.

Jake opened his mouth to argue, but never got the chance to, interrupted by Phoenix and Payback coming back from the dance floor. “Leave them alone, Bagman,” she said, accepting her drink from Bob, who she’d asked to hold it while she danced. “You’re just mad that poor woman rejected you.”

Bob stifled a laugh.

“Whatever,” Hangman mumbled, stalking off towards the bar. Coyote and Payback followed him to get refills of their drinks, leaving Bob alone with the remaining aviators.

Fanboy joined him and Phoenix. “Isn’t that Abby dancing with Warlock?”

Bob followed his line of sight, and sure enough, towards the back wall among other dancing couples were Abby and Warlock.

Bob admired the relationship between Abby and her boss. They trusted each other, relied on each other, and though they were colleagues, Bob knew she considered Warlock a friend. He had been essential to her leaving Lemoore.

“Just go,” Phoenix encouraged, nudging her backseater in the ribs.

“But–”

“Bob,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Go dance with your girlfriend.”

He nodded with a small smile. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he made his way through the crowd, weaving in and out of dancing pairs to get to who he was searching for.

Abby and Admiral Bates came into his line of sight, and he stopped a few paces away, watching them for a moment. They swayed together and Abby laughed at something Warlock said; the sound carrying through the room. It was one of Bob’s favorite sounds, and he’d recognize it anywhere.

Squaring his shoulders, he walked the last few steps forward, tapping Admiral Bates on his shoulder, and though every part of him wanted to look at Abby, he couldn’t. He’d lose his resolve to interrupt if he did.

“Mind if I cut in, Sir?” He asked when Warlock looked at him over his shoulder. The older man smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes that had Bob wondering if Abby had let him in on the nature of their relationship.

“Not at all, Lieutenant,” he said, turning his attention back to Abby to thank her for dancing with him. Warlock stepped back from her and then placed a hand on Bob’s shoulder, looked him straight in the eye as if peering into his soul. Bob had to fight the shudder threatening to course through him. “You take care of her, okay?”

Bob’s eyes widened just a fraction. “Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t a threat, but it intimidated him.

“Good man,” Warlock said, tapping Bob’s arm before leaving the dance floor and heading towards the bar.

Bob turned to Abby. Her arms folded neatly in front of her, there was a soft upturn at the corners of her mouth. Bob stepped closer, offering his hand to her, which she accepted. He pulled her in and put his free hand on her lower back, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric of her dress.

Abby placed her free hand on his shoulder, and they started dancing slowly to the live string quartet providing the music. “Hi,” she whispered.

His smile spread. “Hi.”

Bob pulled her slightly closer. He could smell her intoxicating perfume mixed with the scent of her citrus body wash. This close, he could see all the different shades of brown in her eyes, and the light bounced off her loose, wavy hair. Bob could look at her for the rest of his life and never grow tired of it. 

“You didn’t tell me they invited you.”

Abby chuckled softly, looking down at their feet briefly before meeting his eyes again. “I wasn’t,” she said. “Warlock made some calls, probably yelled at some higher-ranking admirals, and secured himself a plus one. He asked me. I didn’t know until after you left my apartment.”

“That was nice of him,” Bob said, spinning them around lightly.

She nodded. “It was.”

Comfortable silence spread between them as they continued to sway to the music. Over Abby’s shoulder, Bob could see the rest of the dagger squad chatting animatedly. An air of ease flowed around them, making Bob wish they could all stay here a little longer instead of going back to their respective squadrons. He didn’t want him and Phoenix to be split up as a team. He’d never felt more comfortable and safe in the air than with her as his pilot.

“What’s going on inside that big brain of yours?” Abby asked, squeezing his shoulder lightly, bringing him back to the present and the breath-taking woman in front of him.

“Just thinking,” he told her, pulling her closer again. It wasn’t proper for them to be this close, especially surrounded by a slew of superiors and high-ranking admirals who probably weren’t as forgiving as Warlock. “I hate that I can’t kiss you right now.”

Color flooded into her cheeks, and she shifted her eyes away from him, trying to hide her smile. She squeezed his shoulder lightly, and Bob offered her a toothy grin in return.

“Hey,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. Her beautiful dark eyes met his blue gaze expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “I’m going back to Lemoore next week.”

“Yeah,” Abby said, defeated.

They both knew this was coming, and it was the exact reason Bob hadn’t asked Abby out when he was at Top Gun and they’d first met. He would have to leave, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. This time was no different.

“I think we should…” Bob tried to start, but trailed off. “I mean,” he said, hesitating, “I don’t know what you’ll think, but…”

Abby raised a brow, looking at him expectantly. “But?”

Bob paused their dance. He grabbed her hand, leading her off the dance floor and to a secluded corner at the end of a hallway he’d noticed earlier when he arrived. Here they’d be out of sight from prying eyes and nosy superiors.

“Bob, what’s going on?” She asked, her eyes filled with confusion and alarm. He hated that he was the one who caused it.

He took a deep, steadying breath and cupped Abby’s cheeks lightly. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against hers in one of those sweet kisses he’d grown so accustomed to over the weeks they’d spent together.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I think we should disclose our relationship,” he whispered.

Abby’s breath hitched, and she pulled back from Bob, looking at him seriously. He couldn’t read her in that moment, couldn’t tell if he’d come on too strong and this was the last thing she wanted. “Bob–”

“No,” he said firmly. “I love you.”

Abby’s jaw went slack, her mouth hung open, and Bob could feel the blood rushing in his veins, hear his heart racing, the sensation of his quickened pulse in his neck.

He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, to take it back, but the words stuck in his throat as Abby’s lips crashed against his. The kiss was breathless and messy, heated and so good. He gently pushed her against the wall, swiping his tongue across her bottom lip, beckoning her to open up for him. Instead, she pulled away, breathing heavy.

Bob took a small step back, determined to give her some space, but she drew him back to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

She peered up at him through her dark lashes that were so long it looked like they touched her cheeks.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

All the blooming anxiety, the discomfort of making such a strong declaration so early in the relationship, melted away when those words passed her lips. Bob grinned. How could he not? The woman of his dreams had just told him she loved him and everything in the world felt right. “Yeah?”

Abby let out a short, breathy laugh before she dragged him down by the back of his neck and kissed him, making him feel lightheaded and like the floor rotated under his feet.

He pushed her against the wall again, pressing his body flush with hers, wanting nothing more than to take her right there. To mark her up as his and his alone. He’d never been a possessive man, but Abby brought it out in full force.

He pulled his mouth off hers and started a trail of wet kisses on her jaw, her throat, that spot right below her ear where her pulse raced against his lips. She threw her head back with a delicious moan, giving him better access. Her hands were on his neck, keeping his mouth against her warm skin.

But Bob’s cap was in the way, bumping against Abby’s jaw, so he reluctantly pulled away.

Their heavy breathing filled the surrounding quietness, and somewhere in the distance, Bob heard the string quartet play a different tune.

He cupped Abby’s cheeks and ran his thumbs gently over her flushed skin. Her wide pupils made her eyes look almost black. “We should go back,” Bob said. It was the last thing he wanted to do.

She nodded, running a hand through her hair to smooth it out from where it had leaned against the wall. “How do I look?”

Bob gave her a quick peck. “Perfect,” he said and offered her his arm, which she accepted. They walked back to the gala where they found the Dagger Squad by the bar, shot glasses in hand, looking a little dazed.

“There they are,” Payback shouted across the expanse of the dance floor when he saw them heading their way.

Phoenix swept Abby into a hug, forcing Bob to let her go. She met Bob’s gaze over her shoulder with a smirk, but he shook his head, knowing exactly what his front seater was thinking.

Bob tried to adjust himself in his trousers subtly, but of course, Hangman noticed. He raised a brow at Bob with an obnoxiously smug smile on his face, and Bob almost flipped him off just to make a point. But Hangman said nothing, so Bob refrained from using the crude gesture. It probably wouldn’t land him on any admiral’s good side, anyway.

Rooster offered Abby a tequila shot, which she happily accepted, and started interrogating her about how she’d gotten invited to the gala while Kennedy hadn’t. The rest of the squad joined in the conversation, arguing that it made more sense for an administrator like Abby to be there than a mechanic like Kennedy.

Phoenix removed herself from the argument and joined Bob where he stood at the end of the bar, watching his friends and girlfriend laugh together.

She offered him a glass of water. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Nowhere,” he said.

She raised a skeptical brow. “So, you didn’t sneak off to have sex in the bathroom?”

For the second time that night, Bob almost choked on his drink. “What? No.”

“No one would judge you if you did,” she told him, mischievous smile on her face. “But I would owe Hangman 20 bucks.”

“We didn’t,” Bob said, feeling his cheeks and ears grow hot, and sweat beaded on his forehead under his cap. “I didn’t want to risk getting caught.”

Phoenix barked out a loud laugh, and Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, too. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, a gesture he’d grown entirely used to in the time he’d known her. “What are you going to do now that you’re leaving?”

“We’ll make it work,” Bob said, voice solemn and serious. They would make it work because he didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t.

Bob and Phoenix rejoined their friends, and he found his way to Abby’s side, pressing a small kiss to her temple, hoping the other aviators shielded them from view. He wanted to keep her to himself just a little longer.

❋❋❋

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @raith-way, @eddiemunscns, @wordspin-shares, @veetlegeuse

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @seymour-cant-read, @wordspin-shares

[bigbrotherlouis]

i’m obsessed with joel farabee and morgan frost and you should be too: a primer

hello! welcome! recently i have become infatuated with morgan frost and joel farabee for a lot of reasons but mostly because of that one post that i spent like twenty minutes searching various blogs for that said “people are freaking out about sexualising hockey players, meanwhile joel farabee is one instagram comment away from telling morgan frost he’d suck him dry.” in my head rent free. hit a girl up if you have the post.

anyway! frosty and beezy:

[hard cut to me whispering “oh my god even their nUMBERS are friends” i’m fine.]

this is more like about vibes and less about facts, so you can google if you want to know more about their, like, bios and stats and stuff that’s not 99% rpf or conjecture. this primer is just the things that make me scream. however, that being said, they do play well on a line together and both are very good players.

joel farabee is american, from new york i believe but his dad is from philly, and falls neatly into the category of BORN TO BE A FLYER. longtime fan, hugely excited to play for the team, brings it up all the time.

morgan frost, from ontario canada, was not.

a real, actual tweet. he tweeted this with his WHOLE chest and then joined the flyers like three years later. i adore it. another real actual tweet i adore:

sweet, sweet joel. he misses his buddies :( no doubt including morgan because they are, by all appearances, obsessed with each other. i’m trying not to keep  using the word obsessed in this primer but it’s hard because they are. morgan’s a year older, a first round draft pick in 2017 and joel’s a first round pick in 2018, but they didn’t start playing together until 2019, i believe, because joel played for a college team in boston. side note: he also captained team usa and wore a number 28 in honour of claude giroux and i am absolutely not okay about it.

e! mo! tion! al! incidentally, frosty wears danny briere’s number when he plays for the flyers, which. take from that what you will. iykyk. their NUMBERS are FRIENDS. HERITAGE SOULMATES. joel’s been called up to play on the flyers (and did really well in the playoffs!) but we’re still waitin’ for morgan to come along too but the coaching staff hasn’t recognised the raw power of true love yet so.

at this point, you’re probably saying “sasha shut up about their fucking numbers and talk about why they’re obsessed with each other” but good news! i do not need to do that because the official flyers media has done that for me! (x) i’d recommend watching it because it’s a lot packed into a neat 100 seconds, but notable moments include the voice over saying “joel farabee and morgan frost have found that going at it together has its benefits” within the first thirty seconds. that is a real direct quote. i can’t believe it either. there’s also a lot of light homoerotic bonding over playing chel, them sitting across from each other  on their beds, the admission of being ROOMMATES (oh my god they were roommates), this shot of them sitting with their mouths wide open on either side of their dad,

and also joel wearing a hat with a canadian maple leaf on it, despite being from the the united states. wonder where he got that from. please watch the video.

when they’re not playing chel or, you know, going at it together, they’re being horny in each other’s instagram comments. there’s honestly.... so many of these that i can include but we’re just gonna go with my favourites.

when i say i think about this comment on a picture of morgan with isaac ratcliffe, a fellow flyers prospect on a daily basis, i mean it. i’ll be just doing my thing, minding my own business, and MORGAN MAKES ME VENMO HIM JUST TO TALK will pop into my head, completely uninvited. king shit for morgan to do and king shit for joel to admit on social media for the world to see, but joel admitting things he maybe shouldn’t is a running theme. 

cool. TOTALLY not flirting or anything.

joel. also both their exhibitionist streaks should be explored in fic more i am JUST sayin.

ok but bee you were lookin. like you can chirp but you were lookin, don’t lie. 

when ur in love with ur roommate but ur both hockey players so u can only communicate that love via chirping when he’s with the boys :(

what’s it called when you vibe really well with someone and also live with them and also comment on their shirtlessness and also maybe kiss them on the mouth a little? d... da... dating?? can’t be it.

morgan is a little more composed in the comments and mostly just posts inside jokes i cannot comprehend, or compliments. it’s still cute.

this was on a playoffs pic where joel’s wearing #28 love 2 see it love a supportive boyf always

this one was of joel with a fish he caught and i’m sorry but i did not want it on my phone.

but morgan can’t hide his affection for long. (me, in the distance: TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT!!!!!!!)

there’s more comments but they’re boring and this is long, mostly joel chirping  morgan for wearing baseball or football stuff. however! they are also on twitter where they keep each other humble after incredible goals, like bros do,

this is DEFINITELY flirting. like, blatant. it’s like that kind of flirting when you’re thirteen and you don’t know what to do with your body so you just kinda steal your crush’s stuff or insult them because all attention is good attention, right??

but when push comes to shove, beezy is always gonna look out for his boy (because they are in love):

some important pictures of them together, for your pleasure: 

this is so DUMB and i love it

friends supporting friends!!!

this is them meeting their hockey dads :) so cute :) joel is promising g that he’ll have morgan back by ten yessir he will be respectful of boundaries and curfew. jake is high fiving morgan on getting some. this is facts i just call em like i see em.

and finally!

is this allowed?????  is this allowed???? it’s hard to tell but i’m pretty sure that’s joel on his knees for in front of morgan and i just??? how is that allowed???? it’s been five days and this picture has RUINED me. someone write me an essay to have on my desk by morning, stat.

also v unrelated but here is a video of morgan frost reading, proving he’s the smart one in the relationship. that’s not saying much but, hey! at least there’s proof he can read.

obviously different ships capture people in different ways but there’s something about them to me, personally, that is just so captivating. there’s a lot of potential for different fic vibes, and joel in particular always has a really fun voice to read (and also to write). they definitely have chemistry, they’re pitted against each other so there’s a good-natured rivalry going on, CLOTHES SHARING AND HERITAGE SOULMATE NUMBERS, and, like, they just genuinely seem to enjoy each other. someone PLEASE write more fic for them or by god i’ll have to do it myself.

ok that’s everything for now, i believe. they’re in love and don’t care who knows it and i’m obsessed. (however, i’m also obsessed with joel farabee and andrei svechnikov together, for which i have a one-picture argument for here.)

(p.s. anything not linked i screenshotted myself thank youuu for reading have a good day and remember: morgan makes joel vemno him just to talk 😌)

edit: hello. i wrote this on election night as a way to take off the edge of my nerves and it is not as funny or screechy as i wanted it to be so i’m going to add some now.  

[slotssystemcallout]

HEAVY TW FOR gr//m/ng, p/d/ph/l/a, r/p/, and m/nip/lat/on. Be cautious while reading through this. This is a compilation of screenshots from  Ruby Jake Lodge on Facebook, and Slot System as known on Discord. Other accounts are listed in the Facebook Callout screenshots showing evidence of the harmful things they've done. This is not meant to harass Slot System, but simply to warn people of things they've done and are continuing to do.

This post is meant to be neutral, and whether people believe Ruby’s a system or not, this is taken with the belief that what they’ve said about themself and other people are true and their current opinions.

Feel free to contact ❝ scorpio#0001 or cass#1478 on Discord for any questions regarding these statements.

                                                      CALLOUT

It is very important to read the original callout on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/100035995511728/posts/291276075415574/?extid=gPJfeAPqm6yorQ7s&d=n. This has evidence of them admitting to their body having s/x with a minor’s (13 at the time, when they were 17. They’re Zach in this post), planning the r/p/ of a lesbian couple as well as outing their sexuality and religious views to their workplace, getting them fired, and it includes 100+ comments of people talking about their experiences. They are a known pr/d/t/r and gr//m/r who has had MANY harmful incidents with minors 12 and up while being an adult. ( TO CLARIFY, the incest claim IS NOT TRUE, and neither are the claims made against the ‘15 year old’ )

This is evidence that Ruby knew Zach’s age at the time of the incident.

This is one of many instances of people trying to warn Zach about Ruby grooming him.

This is a screenshot of the time in which Zach was actively being groomed to believe he wasn’t being groomed by Ruby.

This is a conversation between someone who was concerned for Zach because he was still around Ruby. He was groomed to believe that the situation was normal and he could feel safe around Ruby still, despite their sexual comfort with him. He spoke out multiple times to try and convince people that it was okay, though obviously no one took it because it was not okay.

                                    Instances of s/x/al misconduct

This is Ruby messaging Zach asking for his opinion on their NSFW username on Vent. ( He was 17 and they were 21 )

This is Zach asking Ruby to put away their sex toy which was out for him, Ed, and Joey to see. Ruby has left their sex toys out for Zach to see in both their, his, and other people’s homes. 

Ruby messaged Zach asking him to leave the room so they could masturbate. 

This is a screenshot of Ruby calling Zach’s father a nice person to his face. This post will not go into his trauma with his dad, but Ruby knows what he has done to Zach and has witnessed Zach have countless PTSD attacks and uncover memories. The most we can share is that Zach’s dad has been arrested 3 times, the longest sentence being for child p///. This is very detrimental because something like this said to him could quite literally convince him his dad is a nice person, and this was said to him right after he cut off his dad for good.

                                                 Claiming abuse

Ruby is calling Wheat Farmers ( a friend group that Zach, Joey, and Ed are a part of ) their abusers because of instances in 2020 Summer. Zach went to Joey and Ed’s house to visit them for the Summer, and Ruby not only insisted but guilt tripped WF to come with Zach so they would be with him on a trigger date. Before this, Ruby was friends with Joey’s stalker and shared information about Joey and his trauma to his stalker. Ruby was informed that this person was a stalker as well as a pedophile and didn’t read the callout nor drop them. Ruby claimed they manipulated them within that short timespan, then dropped and became friends with them again. (Messy is Joey, Slot wap is Ruby)

(The fics were smut of incest trauma that a young child canonly went through in Danganronpa)

This is Ruby blaming being friends with Joey’s stalker on dependency.

Ruby states here that they don’t see a point in stopping their contact with Joey’s stalker. They did eventually cut them off through Zach yelling at the stalker on the phone and Ruby lying saying Zach stole their phone from them and they didn’t consent to it though it was planned prior. They then started talking to them again for no reason, knowing that they were a stalker and a pedophile.

This was Joey’s response to their message.

They claim WF abused them because of ‘isolation’ during their time at Joey and Ed’s in the Summer. This ‘isolation’ was because Joey was uncomfortable being around them a lot since they defended his stalker and lied to him about it, including sharing his personal information to them. Ed and Zach tended to stay with Joey because Zach wasn’t going to be there for a long time, and Ruby only came to be with Zach on the 4th anyway. They still all hanged out in some way every day.

This is a screenshot of Joey explaining to Ruby why he wasn’t comfortable being around them at the time.

This is a screenshot of Ruby relying on Zach to get Joey to let them stay longer than they were supposed to after everything happened. They were supposed to get a job to afford a ticket back (yes, they travelled across the entire country with a one way ticket) but didn’t even apply or look at places they could work at. They were out of the house for three hours at most & guilt tripped Zach into thinking he and Joey were at fault for them being ‘homeless’.

Ruby was told explicitly a house rule was that no one could get high or drunk daily at the comfort of other people there. Ruby was drunk every other day if not multiple spans of daily, used DXM and Benadryl, and was given Benadryl for withdrawal and sleeping. They were not cut off cold turkey to their Benadryl addiction and throughout each time they broke that spoken rule, they weren’t punished at all for it, and especially not to their addiction.

                                                    MISC THINGS

Multiple people including Joey and Ed told Ruby they were supporting his drug use and had to stop doing it, but they did not. On the third or second last time Zach and Ruby hung out, Zach took a large amount of DXM and went into psychosis. After this event which Ruby was entirely aware about, a week later they hung out again and Ruby supported and encouraged him to get high with them within 3 hours of them hanging out. Zach had stated he had no intention of relapsing and originally requested they didn’t use at all around him, which turned quickly into exactly what he didn’t want. When Zach came over, Ruby was already high.

Ruby got high on Benadryl the night of Zach’s suicide attempt in his house, which he tried to overdose on Benadryl same day of. This was extremely insensitive and multiple people disapproved of it. 

Ruby has provided Zach/his body with cocaine 3 times a month after he turned 17.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 13: Stay The Night

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Y/N doesn’t feel safe in her flat, but Harry is too far away.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N (4-year age gap).

Chapter 12: Ex’s And Oh’s - Their relationship is no longer a secret.

Wattpad link

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.

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When Y/N left her flat this morning, she was filled with stress.

She had taken the bus to clear her mind instead of driving to work, but as she waited at the bus stop, she realized it was a terrible idea. She loved mornings in London. The feeling of being just a tiny nobody in the sea of busy strangers rushing off to work made her feel at ease. After yesterday, however, everything had changed.

A group of schoolgirls also waiting for the bus had been staring at her for two minutes now. As their chatter and snickering rang in her ears, she was sure one of them had taken a photo without her consent and posted it on Instagram with the caption: 'I met the bitch who kissed Harry, and she was ugly as fuck.'

Y/N told herself to ignore them, not giving them the satisfaction of being right about whatever personalities they had picked out for her. Besides, there were only four of them, so maybe she was overreacting. She wasn't the center of the universe and didn't walk down the street with that kissing photo glued to her forehead. But unfortunately, that was exactly how she was feeling right now. She envisioned a spotlight shining on her everywhere she went, and even the homeless guy across the street knew she'd kissed the Harry Styles.

It was the longest bus ride ever, even though she'd chosen to sit at the very back to avoid unwanted attention. Thank God, those teenage girls had got off one stop before her, and she was allowed to walk the rest of the way to the bookstore in peace. Well, it had been peace before she entered the bookstore.

"Good morning, Y/N!" Alice and Eddie said at the same when she walked in. Since when did she get a heartwarming welcome for being thirty minutes late? Was she living in a nightmare? Should she pinch herself to wake up?

"So, I was just telling Eddie that I need a new haircut—" Alice started speaking as Y/N hung up her jacket. "I would like it shorter, and maybe I'll have it dyed to match the color of my dress. My cousin Layla is getting married soon and—"

"It's okay, Al. You can ask me anything," Y/N cut her off, and Alice's eyes grew slightly bigger.

"W-What are you talking about?" the girl stuttered as she exchanged looks with Eddie, who was tongue-tied and could only shake his head.

"I know you've seen those photos and read all the things people have said about me," said Y/N. "And because you're my friends. I want you to be honest. Tell me what you think about me. Ask me questions. Just...don't be so weird. I can't take it."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Alice exhaled as her chest caved in. "I-I'm very sorry it happened to you. And...and for what I said about Harry and Ruby being soulmates or whatever. I did-didn't know it was you."

"I'm sorry too," Eddie blurted as he adjusted his glasses. "I mean...I mean, what Alice just said."

"Nice try, dumbass."

"Hey!"

Y/N snorted as Alice gave Eddie the finger. "So you guys believe me?" she asked.

"Of course we do!" piped Alice. "You and Isaac broke up on good term so you're free to date whoever the fuck you want. Fuck those bitches. Believe me or not, I created another account, just to defend you from hate comments."

For a second, Y/N thought she was only joking, but then quickly realized she was not. "You didn't have to, Alice! I don't even read those comments!"

"Yes, I did have to, because you're my friend." Alice's face contorted as she placed both hands on Y/N's shoulders. "I'm so glad it's you, by the way."

To hear this from Alice of all people made Y/N feel much better. She didn't need validation from every single fan of Harry's to feel worthy of her own relationship, but it was nice to have at least one who supported her.

"It's all thanks to you, Al," she said.

"Thanks to me?!"

"Thanks to her?!"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Alice's and Eddie's reaction. She answered them with a firm nod. "If last year you hadn't given me those tickets to see the Heathers musical—"

"Wait a minute! You went to see it with him?!" Alice covered her mouth as her jaw dropped.

"Yeah, well, no, we were...caught in the rain so we didn't get to see it. But before that, we were going to see it together. That was basically how it all started. It's—" She rolled her eyes and exhaled. "It's a long story."

"Tell me!"

"Maybe some other time. I'm sure Eddie doesn't want us to—"

"Tell us!" Eddie chimed in, already resting his chin on his palms like a child waiting for his bedtime story. As they continued to chant "tell us, tell us!", Y/N was left with no choice but to grab a chair and sit down with them.

Taking a deep breath, she began, "Harry and I met when I was nine..."

.

.

.

Nine-year-old Y/N was thrilled when Gemma agreed to take her to Harry's football game. It was not only the first time she'd got to see him play, but also the first match she had ever attended. She didn't even know the rules. All she knew was, there were two teams, Harry's was red, the opponent was blue. If a player kicked the ball into the other team's net and the goalkeeper from the other team couldn't catch it, then this team got one point. The team with the most points at the end won. It sounded simple when she put it like that, but she knew it was more complicated in reality.

Gemma seemed to know all about football, but the more she explained, the more confused Y/N got. How could anyone remember all these positions? What did a 'penalty' mean? And what the heck were those red and yellow cards the referee was holding?

Frustrated, Gemma eventually gave up and told her, "you'll get it when you're older."

Y/N knew Gemma didn't mean to hurt her feeling, but her words had done just that. 'Older', she despised that word, yet it was all she wanted to become. Older. Smarter. Prettier. If she'd achieved all of those things, she would be good enough to become Harry's girlfriend. Sitting with her head hung, she bit her nails and pondered the idea. It was only when the parents roared with cheers that she snapped back to reality. She looked up just in time Harry was running toward his teammates and screaming with joy, as the goalkeeper on the other team flopped down on the grass, looking defeated. Their reactions made it clear that Harry had just scored.

"Did they win?!" She looked up at Gemma with hopeful eyes, and the older girl gave her a shrug.

"Not yet, but they're already leading 2-0 and there's only five minutes left."

"So they're surely gonna win?!"

When Y/N received a nod as an answer, she jumped and screamed his name so loud it startled Gemma and a few other parents. But she didn't pay attention to them. Every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation and her eyes were fixed on her crush. In her imagination, the other boys started to fade into the green of the field, the spectators evaporated like mist in the sun, and Harry was glowing like an angel.

His team won that day, as predicted. Y/N knew she hadn't contributed even the slightest to their victory, but she prided herself on being his good luck charm. And therefore, Harry would be so happy to see her.

While Gemma was chatting with a cute guy she'd run into, Y/N rushed toward the group of older boys who were heading out of the field. Harry spotted her right away, his face gleamed as he waved his hand in the air.

"You were amazing!" she bubbled. "Gemma and I were cheering so loud for you! I knew you'd win!"

"Thanks, Bambi. I'm glad you came," Harry said as he stroked her head, making her feel so happy she almost didn't notice the other boys.

That was only until she heard them snickering, and one said, "I didn't know you had a little sister."

"No, she's my neighbor," Harry answered with a straight face. And the smile Y/N was wearing slowly withered. 'Neighbor'? Was that all she was to him? Not even a friend? Just his 'neighbor'? Ouch.

"You're hanging with little kids now, Harry? Are you a babysitter?" a fat boy said as he cackled and showed his shiny braces.

"How old are you, little baby?" said the skinny one with red hair and squinty eyes. She should've taken his condescending sneer as a sign not to answer his question, but being the only girl there and younger than them all made her feel pressured to tell them what they wanted to hear.

"I'm nine," she said while fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

All the boys cracked up like she'd just told a funny joke. But the only joke here was...her. They were all laughing at her.

"Hey, that's enough, Jake!"

When Harry glowered at them, their laughter slowly died down. But neither that thin boy nor those who'd laughed at her showed any remorse for picking on a little girl. Y/N hopelessly studied Harry's reaction, a line appeared between her brows as she clutched her hands tightly together. She was waiting for him to ask them to apologize, or at least tell them that she was more mature and probably smarter than all of them combined.

But Harry said nothing about it. He told her to get back to Gemma before she got lost and then walked off with the rest of the team.

.

.

.

That photo. That goddamn photo.

Harry knew it should've been the least of his concern now that there were at least five different shots of him kissing his girlfriend floating around on the Internet. Still, he was sitting here and getting fed up with the photo of her and Isaac at the wedding reception.

They looked happy. Way too happy. If the way they laughed hadn't already driven him up the wall, seeing Isaac's arm tightened around his girlfriend's waist had done the perfect job. It was all he'd been thinking about since last night.

Given a short break between the two scenes, Harry returned to his chair and pulled out his phone to send Y/N a text, but he sat and contemplated at the screen for a long moment. He felt petty when his brain told him to ask her about the photo with Isaac. But his heart, which knew better, told him to avoid talking about any photo. She had dealt with enough of shit on her own, and the last thing she needed was her pathetic boyfriend getting jealous like a hormonal teenage boy.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally typed down a line and pressed send.

⌲ Morning, love! How's your day been? :)

It didn't take too long for her to reply, so he guessed she was on her phone while 'working' again.

⌲ Bambi: So far so good. How's yours?

⌲ Everything's great, except for the fact that you're not here, which sucks.

⌲ Bambi: You're a good liar.

⌲ I'm not! I really miss you! :(

⌲ Bambi: No, silly. I mean...

⌲ Bambi: Niall told me you asked for his thought about the photo of me and Isaac.

⌲ Damn it, Niall.

⌲ Look, baby, it's no big deal.

⌲ Bambi: Yeah? Then tell me what you think about the photo. Answer honestly.

⌲ I think you looked great in that dress.

⌲ Bambi: Harry...

⌲ Okay. Fine. I don't like the way he had his arm around you. And you two looked like a happy couple...

⌲ Bambi: We're not though. I'm with you.

⌲ I know...I'm not doubting you or anything.

⌲ Bambi: You sound like you are...

⌲ I'm not. I swear!

He impatiently drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, and let out a harsh breath when her reply finally popped up.

⌲ Bambi: They were playing a really good song so I got lost in the moment and kept stepping on his feet. That photo was the exact moment when I was about to fall and he caught me just in time. We were just laughing at how stupid I was.

⌲ Oh...

⌲ Bambi: Feel better now?

⌲ Yeah :)

Three dots appeared as she was typing, but they were interrupted by a call from Jeff. Harry had been expecting the call since last night, but his manager had been too busy to respond.

"Hey, man, how's it?" Harry implored as he leaned back in his chair.

"We can't figure out who leaked the photo," Jeff said, his voice was heavily low. "You need to ask her, Harry."

The actor tossed his head back and drew in a long breath. He didn't even want to face Ruby after what had happened the other night, so asking her if she'd leaked the photos of him and his girlfriend would be much worse. But it seemed like he had no other choice.

"Fine, she'll be here any second. I'll try to speak to her."

"Great!" Jeff marveled, but Harry didn't see what was so great about that. He was still full of tension as he tapped his foot and buried his hand in his hair.

"What about the other thing?"

"What other thing?"

"Have you read my text from last night?"

"Oh, that." Jeff huffed. "You can't do that, mate."

"What? Why?"

"You'll draw even more attention to yourself and your girlfriend if you speak up about the issue."

"But people want to hear the truth. They'll stop talking if I just make a post to explain everything—"

"Harry, stop!" Jeff cut him off. "These people won't ever stop unless they forget. You know you can't please the angry mob no matter what you feed them. They're not here for answers, they're here for drama. So they will just turn every word you say against you."

"This is not about me though, this is about Bambi!"

"Bambi? That's her name?"

"N-No, her name's Y/N." Harry squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his forehead. "I want to protect her. She's not...she's not like the others. She's not used to this."

"Then you need to let this go. Don't give people more reasons to hate Y/N."

Harry nodded as he unclenched his fists. "You're probably right...thanks, man."

"Hey, your mess is also my mess." Jeff cackled and told Harry that he needed to go, but if Harry needed anything, he could always ring him up. "Good luck with your Bambi," he said before ending the call, and Harry only gave a chuckle as a response.

The last text he'd received from Y/N was: 'I gotta go. Talk to you later.' So he guessed their conversation was also over. He quickly typed down 'I love you', sent it, and put his phone away.

"Is Ruby here yet?" he heard the director ask everyone as she made her way toward him. "Harry, have you talked to Ruby?"

"No, I—"

"Hold on!" Evangeline held up a finger in front of his face as she checked her phone. "Her assistant just sent me a text. She'll be here late due to traffic. Well, why aren't I surprised?"

Laughing, she sat down in Ruby's chair next to him and snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Hey, you alright?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He almost blurted out his usual answer to every situation, but nothing seemed to get past the eyes of this woman. "I know no criticism could bring you down, but you're worried about your girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah," he admitted, not knowing why, but he went on anyway. "She's not famous. She doesn't even like the idea of being famous, so this is a lot for her to handle. I just...I wish I was home with her right now. To make her feel safe."

It was the first time he'd openly talked about Y/N to a co-worker, and it felt really nice to be able to get certain feelings off his chest. Besides, he trusted Evangeline. This lady had never worn fewer than three colors in one outfit, and her hats were always much bigger than her head. Right now she was wearing a massive yellow summer hat with extravagant ruffles feathers on the wide brim. No negative comment about it could force her to take it off. She simply didn't care about being judged and had never judged anyone.

"I kept wanting to ask you if you got a girlfriend at home, but now I know," she said and patted him on the shoulder.

"Really?" He snorted, his eyebrows pulled together. "I mean, most people would've assumed I was with Ruby."

"You and Ruby?!" the director gasped as if he'd just said something outrageous. "Hein? You and Ruby don't look happy together. You're just good at pretending like you are in love. I thought you had great chemistry on-screen, but off-screen? Not so much."

"Well, that's a relief." He rolled his eyes and exhaled a laugh. "I'm just so tired of people thinking we're 'a match made in heaven' just because we look good together on-screen."

"What's her name?"

"Huh?"

"Your girl. What's her name?"

"Y/N." Harry smiled as he scratched his nose. He could never say her name without a smile on his face.

"That's a pretty name," said Eva.

"I call her Bambi instead." He shook his head at the memories and laughed a little. "She has...these...very pretty eyes. The prettiest I've ever seen. But they were so sad, and—" The man stopped talking when he saw the way Eva was gawking at him. Immediately, he exclaimed, "oh God, I'm sorry for oversharing. Let's just...just forget what I said."

"Quoi! Please continue! I love hearing stories about love!" she said and clutched her chest. "I'm a hopeless romantic and I think the story of how you met Y/N was beautiful!"

"Thank you." He hung his head, picking at his own nails as his voice lowered to slightly above a whisper. "I care about her a lot. And sometimes, I just feel like...she could be happier without me."

"Doesn't she love you?"

"She does, of course...Very much I'm afraid." He twisted one of the rings on his fingers, eyes on his feet instead of Eva. "She could just have a normal relationship without having to hide, or going online and read the terrible things people say about her that aren't true. I'm trying to protect her, but it's scary to think that...that she should be protected from...me."

Eva was deep in thoughts as she cocked her head and fiddled with her hoop earring. Harry assumed she agreed with him but then she uttered, "you know, you do think a lot like your character Jay."

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, you're in love but your insecurities tell you you're not good enough, and therefore you don't deserve to be in love. That is not fair for sweet Y/N." Eva wrapped one of her curls around her finger and gave a half shrug. "The only thing which is worse than loving someone who doesn't love you back, is loving someone who's afraid to love you."

"I'm not afraid," he said, almost defensively, and she pressed her lips into a gentle smile.

"I know you aren't. But when things get...complicated, and you feel like you should let go, just remember what I've told you today. If you let go, thinking it's what's best for Y/N, you're not doing it for her, you're doing it for yourself, and it's very selfish."

Harry stayed quiet, needing time to let the advice sink in. But before he could open his mouth, Ruby burst into the room and frantically apologized for being late...again.

Eva stood up fast and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Next scene in five minutes!"

Ruby was quick to spot Harry from across the room. Instead of looking away when their eyes met, she shot him a smile. This could be a good sign, he thought and rose from his chair. They held that eye contact as he walked over to where she stood, and she didn't wander off to avoid a confrontation. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and crossed her arms. She was finally ready to talk.

"Hey," he said with both hands in his pockets. "How are you?"

"Better than ever. Thanks for asking," she said. Her face showed the opposite of distress, and this time he couldn't tell whether her cheerfulness was fake or real.

"I actually want to ask you about—"

"I know you think I took and leaked those photos, but I didn't," Ruby told him with her head held high. "It was the Declan twins."

"So you knew it all along?"

"Yes," she admitted without pause, keeping her expression neutral. "They did it because they were both bitter that Isaac had turned them down. They were obsessed with him. The only thing I'm guilty of is not doing anything to stop them, because I also wanted to get back at you and the girl."

"Right..." Harry breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose and putting a hand on his hip. He wasn't sure what to do with this piece of information. He couldn't call up the twins and demand them to take down the photos, which had already been shared all over the internet. He couldn't sue them either, it would only make everything worse. He couldn't stop being friends with them, because, well, he had never been friends with them, to begin with, and they obviously didn't care about him. So there was absolutely nothing he could do but accept that fact and move on. Nevertheless, he was glad to have found out the truth.

"Anyway, um, thanks for telling me."

"Wait," Ruby stopped him, making him turn around and blink at her in confusion as she stood there with her lips slightly parted. It took her a second to finally say, "how is she?"

"What?"

"How's Y/N?" She cleared her throat and shifted from one foot to the other while plucking at the cuff of her shirt. "Um...I've read the things people said. Know how it feels to deal with shit like this so..."

To say he was shocked would be an understatement, because this wasn't the Ruby who'd shown up at his hotel room two nights ago. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her like this. He supposed it was a good thing, yet he would need some time to get used to it.

"Yeah, well, I'm taking care of her," he said, giving her a smile.

"You're always taking care of people." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head a bit. "But...at least now it's someone who deserves it, right?"

Harry stilled, not knowing what to say. If Eva hadn't intervened right then, he might've just blurted out something stupid to get rid of the awkward tension.

"Harry, Ruby!" Her thick French accent turned their heads at the same time. The lady snapped her fingers at them. "I need you both! Hurry!"

Breaking into a grin, Ruby hastened to her position. Harry felt a surge of happiness as he watched her start a conversation with Eva. What he saw was the charismatic woman who had enchanted him when they first met. The old Ruby was back, and she was finally healing, this time, all on her own.

.

.

.

Whenever Y/N felt dejected, she would seek for therapy in writing. She would write to kill time and to be distracted, and at the moment, she needed her imagination more than she needed air. She had eaten dinner alone and sat in front of her laptop since 6 PM. Hours had passed and she had written almost three thousand words in total. She was too tired to continue, but not tired enough to fall asleep. So if she stopped now she would lie in bed wide awake and think about all sorts of negative things.

She knew she shouldn't have done what she'd done earlier that day. She had sworn to herself and Harry that she wouldn't go online and scroll through the comments about the photos, but she had. And it was too late to regret it now. She had thought she could sympathize with what Ruby had dealt with. But now that she was in her shoes, she realized she could never sympathize with what someone was going through, until she had to go through it herself.

She'd been teased in school when she was about six or seven. Back then she hadn't got the guts to stand up for herself, so her greatest escape would be going home and holing up in her room, where there was no more invasion of destructive words. Now with social media, the bullying started all over again as you went home and logged on. People were free to share pictures and videos, and one tiny mistake could ruin your life. That was the reason she'd tried to keep her life online and offline as private as possible. She knew what would happen when people knew too much about her. But everything was different now. Those people had got inside her head.

She wanted to tell Harry as he was the only one who could make her feel safe. But she didn't want to make this a bigger problem for him. If he'd known how she was feeling, he would've dropped everything and flown home to make sure she was okay. Hadn't she messed up his life enough already? Besides, he had a movie premiere to attend tonight. He'd been so excited when receiving the invitation, because some directors and actors he looked up to would be there. The least she could do for him as a girlfriend was to allow him to have fun without worrying about her every single minute.

It was 1 AM, and the sound of doorbell woke Y/N from her sleep. She lifted her face from her arms and realized she'd been asleep on her desk for God knew how long. Tired, she checked the clock again to make sure she hadn't mistaken. It was exactly 1 AM. And the unexpected guest rang her doorbell a couple of times more to make it very clear that they wanted to get in. All the people who could pay her a visit at this time of the day would never do that.

She got up, feeling a bit woozy as she walked to the living room and picked up her keys from the coffee table. There were footsteps rushing down the stairs as she headed toward the door. Did that person just...run away?

Y/N's heart was pounding so hard she almost couldn't breathe. She unlocked the door and pulled it open immediately, panting with wide eyes when she saw nothing but an empty hallway...and a box left on the doormat.

She looked to her left, and then to her right, and once she was sure she was alone, she picked up the box and shook it twice. The object seemed to be much smaller than the space within the box, but she couldn't figure out what it was. It couldn't have been a bomb, because who would've bombed her, anyway? So it couldn't be that bad.

And she was right, it wasn't that bad. Because it was worse. It made her wish it'd been a bomb.

The box dropped to her feet as she shrieked and jumped back, gripping the edge of the door so she wouldn't fall. Covering her mouth with one hand, she gulped down breaths to stay quiet.

It was a rat. A dead rat.

The head was flattened. Fresh blood soaked into the fur it touched, matting it together. She noticed an eyeball had been squeezed out and turned away, pale in the face and feeling like she might throw up. She hadn't touched it, but her fingers were already numb. It took her a few seconds to look at it again. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she read the letters written on the bottom of the box.

GOLD DIGGING SLUT!

Y/N slammed the door, locked it as fast as she could and covered her mouth to muffle her crying. Fighting the weakness in her knees, she dashed straight into her bedroom to get her phone and call the police.

.

.

.

"Don't open the door! No!"

Y/N shrank back into her blanket as the girl in the movie was stabbed to death by the creep in the mask. After only a second of resisting and screaming for help, knowing no one would be able to hear her, her body dropped to the ground, and she laid there like a butchered animal in a waste of blood.

Y/N's heartbeat was racing, nearly exploding as she held her breath and turned to aunt Lynn, who had dozed off a while ago. The babysitter's head was tilted back, her mouth was open, and her eyes were closed. Y/N had never thought sleeping aunt Lynn would be scarier than the usual aunt Lynn, but right now it appeared so.

When the doorbell rang, Y/N jumped to her feet, clutching her chest as she took a few steps backward until her thighs hit the edge of the coffee table.

"Who's there?!" she raised her voice.

Her aunt was still sleeping soundly on the couch. If the person outside were to kill both of them, aunt Lynn would probably die in peace, and Y/N would die screaming like the girl in the movie.

"Who is it?!" the little girl asked again when the doorbell rang for the second time. She gathered all the courage she had left and marched toward the door. "I-I have a...a knife here! I'm not afraid to use it!"

"You have a knife?!"

"Harry?!" Y/N blew out her cheeks as her shoulders sagged. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you," he said. "Just let me in."

She was about to unlock the door but then she cowered back, her hands squeezed into fists against her chest. "How do I know you're really Harry?" she asked, and the boy responded with a soft chuckle.

"Who else would I be, kid?"

"Maybe you're just really good at faking his voice."

"Are you watching horror movies with aunt Lynn again?"

"How do you know that?! Who are you?" she gasped and stepped away from the door, but she could hear Harry let out a sharp breath.

"Don't be silly, Bambi. Aunt Lynn always makes you watch those stupid movies—" he paused suddenly. "She's not there, is she?"

"She's sleeping," Y/N mumbled, now feeling less on edge because this boy sounded a lot like Harry. Still, she needed solid proof in order to trust him. "If you're Harry, then...then tell me something only Harry knows."

"Bambi, come on."

"I'm serious!"

"Okay, okay!" He laughed and his shadow underneath her door moved around a bit. "So uh...you hate green peas but your mother loves them, so you keep it as a secret to not hurt her feelings."

"I love green peas."

"No, you don't!"

"I just changed my mind yesterday."

"Then how could I know if you're only telling me now?"

"Fine, you're right," Y/N breathed as she finally relaxed and unlocked the door.

Harry greeted her with a big smile. He was wearing flip-flops and pyjamas so she guessed he had been ready for bed before he came over. She hadn't checked the time, but she was sure it was almost midnight now. So why was he here?

"Couldn't sleep. Want to talk to you," he answered the question she hadn't asked and stepped into her living room, smirking as he saw her aunt drooling. "Man, she looks even scarier sleeping."

"Right?" Y/N snorted, closing the door and telling him to follow her to her room before they woke up her babysitter.

There they sat on the edge of her bed, side by side. Neither knew how to begin even though they both had a lot to say to each other. And as usual, Harry had to start the conversation. Y/N would never swallow her pride to forgive him before he apologized.

"I'm sorry about the other day," he said while tapping his foot and staring at the floor. "I...uh...I know you're mad at me—"

"Yes, I am," she cut him short, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm also disappointed. But my mum said if a person didn't want to be your friend, then you shouldn't try to change their mind."

"I do want to be friends with you, kid."

"You have friends." She turned her face away and gave a mirthless laugh. "Awful ones. But who am I to judge?"

Harry was quiet for a moment. She wasn't looking at him to see his reaction but she could feel his eyes on her.

"I love hearing you say things. Even when you're upset with me," he said, a smile could be heard in the tone of his voice.

Unexpectedly, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she jerked away, making him set his palms down flat on the bed.

"You're the smartest girl I know, Bambi," he said with a timid smile. "Sometimes you're even smarter than me and those boys."

"Sometimes? You mean, all the time."

Her remark made him cackle. "Yeah. All the time." He nodded. "I guess...I was just...trying to make myself seem cool, but it actually made me look like a jerk. So...I'm very sorry. You know I would choose you over anyone else."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Even when the whole world tells you to stop being friends with me."

"Yup." He took her hand and hooked their pinkies together. "You have my word."

"Well then, apology accepted." Beaming, she rose from the bed and pulled him up by the arms. "Now you should go before my aunt gets here."

"Right! My mum would be so mad if she found out I was gone!"

A thunderous boom made the kids jump and scream as they clung to each other. In a blink of an eye, the rain came pouring down like a giant waterfall. With both arms wrapped around Harry's waist, Y/N hid her face into his chest when a flash of lightning blinded her. She knew it was silly but she couldn't help it. She was stuck in adrenaline mode.

Harry stared out of the window, watching the violent wind bending the trees, and he grumbled, "crap, how am I supposed to go home?"

"Then don't!" Y/N blurted, making the boy chortle.

"Are you scared?"

"I'm not! It's just—"

"Just what?" He cracked a smirk, held onto her shoulders and bent his knees to look into her eyes. "What did I tell you about watching those horror movies?"

"If you're only teasing me, then maybe you should go home." She shrugged his arms off and gave a dismissive wave of her hand, but the boy stayed right where he was instead of leaving. Sitting back on her bed, she crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

"I think I'm gonna stay," Harry said with a shrug. Without waiting for a response, he jumped back on the bed and lied down with his arms folded under his head.

"What about your mum? Wouldn't she be angry?" Y/N questioned as she held back a smile.

"She'd be angrier if I came home all soaked. Might as well just stay here and face the consequences in the morning."

Nodding once, the girl climbed on the bed to lie down on her back, her hands resting on her belly. She closed her eyes so the lightning couldn't bother her anymore, but then she felt Harry inching closer.

"I will protect you," he said.

Y/N turned to lie on her side as she opened her eyes slowly. She found herself mirroring him. His luminous green eyes were so different in moments like these, softer than she knew eyes could be. And she almost drifted off when she remembered what he'd just said.

Yawning, she told him, "the murderer would just kill you first."

"If there was a murderer, then we'd both be dead."

"I feel much safer now. You're doing a good job."

Harry snorted at her sarcasm while toying with a lock of her hair on her pillow. She didn't think he was aware of him doing that, but she didn't say a word, not wanting him to stop.

"I'll protect you from everything else," he went on. "Storms. Bullies. Spiders...Wait, you're the weirdo who loves spiders."

"They're cute. My teacher has one as a pet."

"Your teacher's a weirdo."

"That's...kinda true," she said, making both of them laugh.

"But seriously—" He stopped twirling her hair as his eyebrow snapped together. "I will protect you."

"I know you will." She giggled, clutching his hand and holding it tight.

When another bolt of lightning struck and rumbles of thunder shook the earth, she didn't even notice. Nothing could scare her now that he was here.

.

.

.

"You didn't have to come over, you know?" Y/N said as she locked the door, but Isaac didn't speak. He cautiously looked around her living room to make sure everything was normal. His hair was soaked from the rain and so was his jacket, which he shrugged off and hung on the coat stand by the kitchen door.

She knew no one else to call. Harry was in Paris, her father was in Holmes Chapel, her best friends had gone on their honeymoon. It was only at times like this that she began to see the importance of having more than a few people you could trust. She had never hated loneliness until tonight.

She'd called Isaac only to have someone to talk to. But what she hadn't expected was him driving all the way here in the pouring rain just to make sure she was okay.

"Have the police arrived?" he asked when she came out of her bedroom and brought him a towel to dry his hair.

"You came shortly after they'd left," she said. "They took care of the box, but there was no way to figure out who put it there."

"Have they checked the camera in the hallway?"

"There's no camera in the hallway. The lift here doesn't even work." Y/N covered her eyes with one hand and laughed out loud. She didn't know what was so funny about receiving a dead rat as a gift while living in the most unsecured building in London. But finding humor in a situation like this made her feel less anxious.

For the next fifteen minutes, they were just sitting on the couch and checking their phones in silence. Y/N didn't have anything to check on her phone, but she didn't know what to say to Isaac either. So she ended up looking through the old pics and reading old messages from Harry. She was too scared to even turn off the airplane mode, let alone go online and get bombarded by more hate words. At least those words didn't smell like dead rats.

"Ugh..." she grunted and held her nose. Just the thought of that nasty smell could almost make her vomit.

"You okay, Smiley?"

"I'm fine," she lied, nodding fast. And then the words just slipped out before she could stop them. "Do you think you can stay longer? I know you have to go to work tomorr—"

"I'll stay until sunrise, yeah?" he said without a second thought. "You can just go to bed. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"No, I'll...I'll stay up with you."

"You seem tired, Smiley."

"I'm not..."

She was though. She'd been struggling to keep her bloodshot eyes open ever since they sat down. But Isaac knew better than to argue with her.

"How about I get you a blanket and a pillow so you can lie down here?" he suggested.

She thought for a moment before giving him a nod. Her eyes followed him as he got up and walked to her bedroom. He came back not so long later with a blanket and a pillow, and took a seat in the armchair so she could take the couch. Y/N lied down on her side, facing him with her hands under her cheek. There was a window behind Isaac, and from where she laid, she could see lightning jag across the night sky, ripping it like paper. Quickly, she covered her ear before the loud thunder cracked the air, making Isaac jolt upright.

He chuckled when he saw her grin. "Are you making fun of me?"

"I am, yeah." She nodded, making him screw up his face.

"That's not how you treat your hero."

"Aww, I'm sorry, my hero," she said, pouting at him.

Isaac shook with laughter as he leaned back in his chair. Although he didn't want to show it, he was exhausted. She could see it in the way he stretched and kept rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"I hope after tonight you won't regret being my friend," she murmured, watching his eyes widen.

"No, I love being your friend," he said. But she didn't know how much of that sentence was the truth. She didn't speak, so he went on, "are you going to tell Harry about tonight?"

"I don't know." She stuck out her bottom lip, shaking her head. "He'll freak out for sure."

"Yeah, but you should tell him. Maybe wait until tomorrow."

"Yeah..." She gripped the blanket and shivered when there was another thunder. "I hope whoever sent me the rat got swept away by this rain."

Her random remark got Isaac laughing. "I hope so too," he said. "They deserve it."

"Promise you won't tell Harry?"

"That I was here?"

"No." She shook her head slightly, feeling a lump in her throat as she spotted the frown on his face. "Just don't tell him about tonight. I'll do it myself."

"Okay." He forced a smile. "I promise."

Neither of them said another word, and Y/N couldn't feel her muscles anymore. Her eyelids fluttered as her eyes became heavier and heavier, finally sending her into a dreamless sleep.

.

.

.

When Y/N woke up, Isaac wasn't sitting in his chair anymore. The window curtains were closed for he didn't want her to get blinded by the light. She pushed herself up from the couch, resting her arm on the backrest and looking around to find him. He wasn't there, but his jacket was still on the coat stand, so she assumed he was in the bathroom. She held onto her head, and the memories of what had happened seemed like a terrible nightmare. But she knew it'd been real because she could still smell the rat.

The ringtone caught her by surprise. She muttered a curse word and reached for her phone on the coffee table. It was Harry. Great! She had just woken up, and now she had to improvise a speech to explain the previous situation without freaking him out. She meant to sit and watch her phone ring, but her conscience didn't let her do it. So she let go of a harsh sigh and picked up the phone.

"Good morning, my favorite girl in the world!" he said with a sing-song voice, and she silently cursed him for it. She didn't want him to be so cheerful before she told him a real-life horror story.

"Hey, baby. I just woke up."

"What's wrong? You sound tired."

Fuck, he noticed.

"No, I...well..."

"Smiley, can I borrow a towel?"

Shit!

"Is that—"

"Smiley!"

"Yes!" Y/N almost screamed at Isaac, who was standing at her bedroom door. He quickly caught on to what was happening when he saw her on the phone, so he mouthed an apology and hurriedly went back inside.

"Is that Isaac?!" Harry sounded out of breath. "Why is he there at seven in the morning?"

"Harry—"

"Did he spend the night there? Bambi, please tell me—"

"Fuck, someone was outside my flat at 1 AM!"

The other side went silent. For a second, Y/N thought Harry was gone.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, but with a much softer tone this time.

Taking a deep breath, she kneaded her shoulder and shut her eyes and she said, "someone rang my doorbell at one in the morning. I came to answer it, but no one was there. There was a...a box."

"A box?"

"Yeah, a box...And...and there was—" A dead rat in it. "There was a note in it that said 'gold-digging slut'."

"Fuck," he cursed heavily. If this was his reaction to only the message, she didn't want to find out how he would've reacted had she told him about the rat.

"I called the police and they couldn't do anything about it, so I had to call Isaac. I didn't know anyone else, I—"

"It's okay, baby. I get it, I get it," he breathed. "I don't want you to stay there tonight, alright? I'll phone my assistant. You already have the key to my house so—"

"Harry, I cannot stay at your house."

"—I'll send a bodyguard. You'll be much safer there. I'll call my assistant right now," he said quickly, not listening to whatever she wanted to say.

"Harry!" she raised her voice, at the same time, laughing to lighten up the mood. But both of them knew she was awfully stressed out. "I can't...I can't stay at your house."

"Bambi, don't do this, okay?" Harry hissed, sounding so frustrated that it made her guilty she had brought this upon him. "You're staying at my house until I get back. Just a few days more, baby. Please."

She swallowed and massaged the back of her neck. She didn't want to bother him, but if she'd said no, he would've done something as crazy as gone home to her. She couldn't let that happen.

"Fine, I'll get my stuff," she said at last, blowing out her cheeks.

"Good girl." Her boyfriend sighed in relief. "I'll keep you safe, yeah? Even when I'm not there, I'll...I'll make sure that you're safe. Just a few days more and I'll be home with you and everything will be okay."

"Okay," she mumbled, faking a smile even though he couldn't see her.

When she was a little girl, she would feel safe every time he promised to protect her. But now she feared it wasn't true anymore. There were things that were not in his power. There were things that he couldn't prevent. She could only hope nothing worse would happen in the next few days before he returned. She needed him badly, now more than ever. If only she could tell him that...

[d2kvirus]

Dickheads of the Month: October 2020

As it seems that there are people who say or do things that are remarkably dickheaded yet somehow people try to make excuses for them or pretend it never happened, here is a collection of some of the dickheaded actions we saw in the month of October 2020 to make sure that they are never forgotten.

After months of the Tory government fucking up their response to the Covid pandemic you would think that they’d have some baseline of competence by now, but no, it turns out that the Test & Trace program they were so proud of was nothing more than an Excel spreadsheet - an Excel spreadsheet that lost the data of at least 16,000 people, while also begging the question how they spend £12bn of taxpayer’s money on an Excel spreadsheet, to which the answer is...they didn’t, it was existing software, they just pocketed the cash

It comes as no surprise that proven liar Boris Johnson puts the blame on the rising Covid numbers in the UK on the public - because it's definitely not been his master advisor breaking the lockdown rules to pop to Durham with his family after testing positive for Covid on what just so happened to be his wife’s birthday, not the Tory government changing the rules on masks when Michael Gove was spotted in Pret Manger without one, and definitely nothing to do with cases rising significantly within two weeks of the double whammy of the Tory government saying children “must” go back to school and people must go back to work as they can now be fired if they don’t.  Definitely not their fault,  Not at all...

The approach of the Tory government to Manchester being upgraded to Tier 3 boils down to initially promising to provide the fully-costed £60m package that Mayor of Manchester Andy Burnham requested, only to turn around and give them £20m instead and try and justify it by saying it boils down to £8 per head for the entire population.  After all, if Burnham really wanted that money, he’d have been one of Dominic Cummings’ mates and completely unqualified for the job, as that’s the quickest way to open the purse strings as wide as he’d like

It was quite impressive that Margaret Ferrier came to the conclusion that, having tested positive for Covid while in London, obviously the best course of action would be to take a train journey 400 miles back to Scotland before self-isolating, because of course nobody else used that train

...although some of the Tory MPs criticising Ferrier really should have paused before commenting, mainly to check whether they were the ones vociferously defending Dominic Cummings for his 300 mile drive to Durham after testing positive or his subsequent drive to Bernard Castle to test his eyesight

Not only did the Tory government vote against giving free school meals to children a mere ten days after awarding Marcus Rashford an MBE for his work in trying to give underprivileged children free school meals, but they tried all manner of excuses to defend it best exemplified by Nicky Morgan saying she voted to let children starve because Angela Rayner called one of her parliamentary colleagues “scum”, while Twitter troll Ben Bradley claimed that people spent their free school meal vouchers in crack dens and brothels, before claiming he was “misquoted” - which is Tory code for “I have deleted that tweet, because I do not understand how screengrabs work”

Remember how Rishi Sunak has been presented as the human face of the Tory party?  I have to ask, since he decided to yank £1000 a month from Universal Credit payments, and for some reason the “centrists” of Twitter who have been lionising him for several months have been oddly quiet

The batshittery of the Home Office has now extended to coming up with increasingly ludicrous plans to prevent migrants, with the latest bright idea of Priti Patel (and don’t pretend it was anyone else) being to have ships in the English Channel using pipes to blow air into the water that will create waves to send them back to France - as if a dinghy wouldn’t just steer around the ship, or that they wouldn’t make Calais and Sangat the best surfing destinations in northern France overnight

...and it got worse when we learned that Priti Patel was informed that a knife-wielding man stormed into the office of a migration solicitor spouting the exact same rhetoric and injured the receptionist, to which her response was to double down on the rhetoric as if she and proven liar Boris Johnson weren’t inciting violence at this point

...which makes smirking cretin Priti Patel issuing a statement expressing sadness at a couple of child migrants drowning in the English Channel about as sincere and reassuring as a card from Harold Shipman expressing sympathy for the death of an elderly relative

Not for the first time Keir Starmer managed to take all the focus off the Tories and onto the Labour party with his moronic approach to running his own party, namely by suspending Jeremy Corbyn for the crime of...hang on, he actually hasn't said what infraction Corbyn committed by responding to the EHRB report into antisemitism in the Labour party, but he suspended him anyway

...while Lisa Nandy supported this by using a blatant strawman argument saying “There are some on the left” who believe blatant anti semitic tropes...blatant anti semitic tropes that she invoked in the exact same sentence as her obvious strawman argument

Suspected rapist Brett Kavanaugh has been busy using legal loopholes to try and claim that votes in Wisconsin only count if they were tallied up on Election Day and no day past that.  Because as we know, US Presidential Elections have often been straightforward affairs where both vote counts and recounts are always necessary, as Kavanaugh obviously remembers as he was working for George W Bush’s campaign in Florida after the 2000 election

How nice of the Tory government to use a parliamentary loophole to completely avoid allowing a vote on whether or not the UK should import chlorinated chicken, therefore enshrining both the importance of democracy and the importance of food safety standards - in the EU

Once again Keir Starmer seems to think “Opposition” means “Whip your MPs into abstaining”, this time on the Covert Human Intelligence Sources Bill, because as we all know letting legislation pass that absolves the police of any and all illegal activity is definitely going to win voters around

Good guy Rishi Sunak took the Tim Martin approach to worker relations by telling musicians to get another job if they were so worried about their finances - which not only ignores the fact that plenty of musicians do already have more than one job, but also begs the question why this same advice hasn’t been given to the landlords carping about rent holidays etc 

Not only did The Sun blatantly lie by claiming a photo of Jeremy Corbyn taken at a wake was at a “posh dinner party” as obvious rage bait for their knuckle-dragging readership, but it has to be asked where they got the photos from as they weren’t shared publicly on Twitter or Instagram

...although the Freudian slip by the BBC when reporting the non-story, calling Corbyn “the Labour leader”, not only sums up just how shit they are at reporting facts these days, but also underlines he’s doing a better job of rattling the establishment’s cages than Keir Starmer has

Definitely not a conspiracy theorist Julia Halfwit Hartley-Brewer claimed that the government are combining Covid numbers and flu numbers so that they could...anyone got any idea what the point of making this up was?

Instead of keeping Robert Jenrick locked in a cupboard until the whole “Getting backhanders which influence who he gives property contracts to” thing goes away (spoilers: it won’t) instead they sent him out to justify £25m to a Jake Berry’s constituency - to which he said it was fine, as Jake Berry gave £25m to Jenrick’s constituency so there’s no reason to say anything dodgy is going on

For some strange reason Dominic Cummings doesn't have to face any charges for his failure to pay £30,000 worth of council tax on a property he also broke planning laws to have extended.  Yes, there’s a reason I put this directly after the phases “Robert Jenrick” and “backhanders”...

The ridiculousness that is Liz Truss started the month proudly stating that post-Britait trade negotiations with the US would undermine Britsh farmers - and this wasn’t a flub, she genuinely meant to express this - and ended with the frankly baffling crowing from the Department of Trade about how “soya sauce” which was being sued by Great British Bake Off contestants would be cost the same post-departure thanks to the UK-Japan trade deal, which ignores the fact that most soy sauce is imported from China - also that paying zero tariffs on £100k of stilton being exported to a country with high lactose intolerance while Nissa, Toyota et al face no tariffs when importing tens of millions of pounds of cars a year is not what anyone should be calling a victory...unless they work for Nissan, Toyota et al, anyway

Convicted criminal Darren Grimes learned that there’s such a thing as “responsibility” when he learned that the police were investigating his interview with David Starkey for incitement of hatred, which could have easily been avoided if he was in any way competent or if he admitted he isn't a journalist - and of course, the usual voices of Toby Young, Laurence Fox and Julia Halfwit Hartley-Brewer all came running to his defence...and shut up when they were informed this ruling was introduced by Thatcher

Somebody should have explained to WWE that, when their move to ban their employees independent contractors from third party platforms such as Twitch already cast a remarkably negative light on their shady employment practices, they should ramp it up by demanding their employees independent contractors hand over those third party platforms and then out of the goodness of their hearts WWE would hand them a percentage of those earnings

As if Steve Baker describing himself as “the hard man of Britait” isn’t reason enough to include him, his demanding that the Church of England be disestablished if it doesn’t fall in line with their No Deal death cult certainly is

It has to be asked why Ross Clark saw Jacinda Ardern winning a a record mandate in the New Zealand elections so decided it was in his interests to write a Telegraph article claiming her Covid has been a disaster...you know, a country which currently has 0 cases and a total of 25 deaths since February.  It’s almost as if the thought of a left-leaning leader who hasn’t had a disastrous response to Covid being rewarded by the electorate has Clark worried for some reason...

Professional victim Laurence Fox has identified the biggest problem in modern society: Sainsburys supporting Black History Month.  Of course, it definitely wouldn’t be something like Laurence Fox calling anyone who disagrees with him a paedophile, that’s all part of a healthy society...

The latest idea of Tim Davie to make sure that BBC newsreaders remain compliant drones was to bring in a set of rules saying they are never allowed to state an opinion ever (no doubt aimed at Emily Maitlis, who did) and to ban that favourite buzzphrase of the right, any form of “virtue signalling” no matter how worthy the cause...except for wearing poppies, that’s still allowed, in spite being a clear example of this “virtue signalling” that Davie is banning

Complete and utter nutcase Dan Wootton is dangerous as well.  That’s both the entry, and also a quote from Labour MP Chris Bryant in response to him banging on about herd immunity as if he's an expert and not The Sun’s showbiz bottom feeder who has been elevated for no logical reason

Once again Laura Kuenssberg is quoting anonymous “sources” critical of the Opposition - meaning she’s either not a very good journalist as she can’t even name her source, or she doesn’t have a source so she's a liar.  Has anyone else noticed this is a regular occurrence with Kuenssberg yet?

How thoughtful of Manchester United and Liverpool to pitch a wonderful idea that the Premier League be reduced to eighteen teams, while also christening the concept with the definitely not Orwellian moniker of Project Big Picture under the guise of helping the Football League and not, say, easing their fixture lists by four league games per season.  Of course, they’re volunteering to give up their Premier League places, aren’t they?

Once again Isabel Oakeshott just had to be on the wrong side of a story, this time howling in outrage that an anti-lockdown petition with 15,000 signatures is being ignored - signatures including Harold Shipman, Bernard Castle,  Dominic Cummings of Bernard Castle, Dr Johnny Bananas, Dr Person Fakename, and last but by no means least, Dr Corona McCoronaface...

Former wrestler Joey Ryan is dealing with his wrestling career being over due to a wealth of allegations of him being a sexual abuser in the most healthy manner possible, namely filing lawsuits against literally anyone he can blame, be it the accusers, his former employers, or random people who call him out via social media

So far it appears Shaun Bailey is planning on winning the London Mayoral election with batshit promises to allow corporations to sponsor London Underground stations and change the names appropriately (which won’t be confusing for tourist guides...) and try and say that Sadiq Khan is at fault for fans not being allowed into football stadiums nationwide

Clueless grifter Tim Pool came up with a genius answer when asked why his “centrist” podcast only ever seems to have right-wing guests and that was to claim that his setup couldn’t handle remote interviews - which would make sense if a.) He hadn’t been saying how much money had been poured into his setup, b.) Zoom didn’t exist, and c.) We forget all the times he’s done remote interviews in the past

Your would think that Lars Sullivan would have learned to not potentially jeopardise WWE’s efforts to promote him after a combination of injury and also not mentioning him for months due to being a creepy bastard online, but no, as soon as he returned to TV he was being a creepy bastard to a yoga instructor - while using his official WWE Instagram account to be a creepy bastard

Not only did Alex Hutchison open himself up for criticism by outright stating that Twitch streamers can count themselves lucky that they don’t have to pay licensing fees to stream games and their careers would be over if they did, he also opened himself up for ridicule when his aforementioned idiotic statement led to Google seeing his Twitter bio and telling him that, no, he was not a lead designer for Stadia and needed to change that shit PDQ

Once again Arsenal showed their lack of understanding of juxtaposition, with them announcing their longtime mascot was being let go for cost-cutting measures - and then a few hours later announcing they’d signed a player with a £200k a week wage

Some faultless logic from Apple regarding the the iPhone 12: the box won’t include a charger or earbuds to reduce packaging...yet it cost the same as if it did, while also meaning people have to buy chargers and earbuds separately that requires far more packaging

To nobody’s surprise it’s clear that Kim Kardashian does need it explained to her that saying how haaaaaaaaaaaaaard it is to spend two weeks being screened and self-isolating so you can go to the private island for your birthday is galling most of the time, but outright disgusting during a global pandemic

Oh dear, it looks like Eric Trump tried being clever again asking how Joe Biden owns a house that’s worth $4m on his senator’s salary of $174k...only to be told that Biden bought the house for $185k, sold it in 1996, pays more than $750 in taxes and loves his son

And finally, testing positive for Covid, is Donald Trump - but he assures us that he is fine and definitely not a contamination risk having been pumped full of steroids and aborted foetus cells which are available to so many people, and definitely didn’t need a better Twitter password

[popscenery]

LMFAO, »Party Rock Anthem«

by Jake Cleland

‘Party Rock Anthem’ isn’t the best song of the decade, it is the song of this decade. The rotten nucleotides that comprise its DNA and its video’s captured everything that would define the 2010s even before the decade had properly started. JJ Abrams’ franchise dominance, cinema’s sequelitis, Malcolm Goodwin’s role in iZombie — seen in retrospect, ‘Party Rock Anthem’ makes LMFAO seem downright prescient. But as an early decade phenomenon, it’s also an epitaph to a brutally missed 2000s. The Cobrasnake-via-Dim Mak-via-Ed Banger-via-Mad Decent street party fashion makes the post-#mensfashionadvice 2010s look hopelessly conservative. 

So much of art and politics was deastheticised by the project of fundamentally reorganising how art and politics meet and whether that casualty was necessary has yet to be reckoned, although it was probably inevitable. But ‘Party Rock Anthem’ came out when hipster irony (a phrase, kids, that folks used to use with a straight face) was only uncertainly dead, with poptimism still holding the gun cautiously to its chest. The ensuing cultural/political schism ultimately wasn’t drawn on the line between left and right, but overwrought exegeses on the meme of any given week (sup) vs. pleading to just like what you like (aka Like Everything). Two fronts battling basically for the same humiliated cause of pop supremacy made the previously delicious sport of music snobbery just not very fun. The only available rebellion was to [extremely Big Sean voice] go stupid.

(This also meant the only space left for sincere irony was, like, /mu/ and /r/indieheads and Fantano’s comments section. (Pass.))

If ‘Party Rock Anthem’ came out a few years later, it might’ve been wilfully embraced, although its pariah status also left the life in it, so we take small blessings with gratitude. After all, it’s a safe song to like: it is exclusively about the unifying force of The Party. Lyrically it even reifies the previous paragraph: “Stop: hatin’ is bad.” Where it missed a trick was not predicting the trickle down stanonomics of K-Pop’s influence, but it was a utopian vision. Superficially, it’s apocalypse-pop but if so, it’s the only example that doesn’t sound hopeless or lifeless (James Murphy arrived five years late to this, but succinctly, at least, with LCD Soundsystem’s ‘tonite’.) You watch Redfoo - convincingly scared while two-stepping through a sea of Air Jordans and lame - finally succumb to The Party and tell me that the alleged zombies aren’t the good guys. NB: the only other guy afraid of them is wearing a shirt and tie. 

He’s also the only one pushing a product in the whole clip. For all the zombies-as-consumerism metaphors, who’s really a conformist consumer here? Let’s not stretch this too far, but hand-on-heart finger-tapping-forehead: makes you think.

A month before ‘Party Rock Anthem’, Tom Ewing wrote a piece for The Guardian I still think about a lot. Riffing on Girl Talk’s pointillistic reference dropping, Ewing laments the deficiency of celebrating Moments in songs/albums/patchwork sample monster mixtapes which get lost in the holistic approach. In that spirit, the Beats product placement in the ‘Party Rock Anthem’ clip created a Moment which gummed up my brain creases all through this decade almost more than the song itself. The lone survivor tells LMFAO to use their earbuds. “You got ‘em in?” he says. And Skyblu says:

“What? Vitamins?” 

No matter which way you interrogate this moment, it is downright hilarious. To research for this piece, I watched over 100 music videos. I watch a lot of music videos, so the research for this piece consisted of a lot + 100 music videos. That’s more than a lot of music videos. I also watched the ‘Party Rock Anthem’ video more than 100 times, just to make sure I was awarding this Moment the appropriate gravity. So I can say with scientific credibility that not only is ‘Party Rock Anthem’ the song of this decade, but that this moment is the Moment of every decade. It is a non-sequitur nonpareil. Was this scripted or improvised? And either way, in that moment, why would someone say to them, “Vitamins”?

The story of LMFAO concluded in another particularly 2010s way. Another victim of the neverending Scam Season, Redfoo allegedly ripped Skyblu off of all LMFAO royalties. Karma rewarded Redfoo a couple years later when he was hit with a glass in Sydney. In this, we may see ourselves, inevitably disgraced by time.

There are ways ‘Party Rock Anthem’ predicted the zeitgeist and ways ‘Party Rock Anthem’ created the zeitgeist and I was present for plenty of the latter. At least in Melbourne, LMFAO’s recycling of the Melbourne Shuffle filtered back to nightclubs in a way Klein et al. warned was already happening generally. Happy to have our culture regifted if it was also represented, it was less impossible than you might imagine to find yourself inside your own LMFAO music video. But it’s what I came home to after those nights that makes ‘Party Rock Anthem’ the song of the decade, which was: inbox notifications, gchat alerts, dashboards full of posts and replies wringing meaning from meaninglessness in the most seriously unserious way. Epitaphed plenty elsewhere, Music Tumblr doesn’t need another bouquet laid here, but ‘Party Rock Anthem’ is prominent on the playlist of associations I have with the first definitive part of the decade (other triggers: ‘Video Games’, ‘Gucci Gucci’, ‘Bangarang’, ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, ‘Furisodeshon’, ‘Hey QT’, SSSSSSSSOME NIGHTS I STAYYYYYYYY UP...)  

Coming from the Gawker/Defamer/Idolator readership to find a group of mostly-communal-but-sometimes-adversarial-but-for-the-better (via “Iron sharpens iron” - Coach Wade) weirdoes eager to unwrap celebrity looms large, I have no doubt, in the definitions of this decade for the people involved. Most have since left music writing or been pushed out and found fulfilling lives elsewhere, but although the pop of the era trended towards the annhilistic, let’s not cave. When I first started writing about music on Tumblr, old heads were quick to say the jobs were gone. Defiant and determined to prove them wrong, I made a pretty good go of it, and others are still doing as much. All the pieces are there for anyone with a willingness to be wrong to pick up. 

That’s enough navel gazing for a time long ago. Put it to bed. The revelation of ‘Party Rock Anthem’ isn’t that you should never leave The Party, it’s that the whole world is The Party. “Dancing all night isn’t legendary, only dancing all night is.” The only thing to do in the decade ahead is to keep listening attentively. Let music fill you up. It’ll get in your bones.

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 27: Thoughts on The 100 2x09, Remember Me

...For some reason I was really angry at the beginning of this? Also there’s a lot of Lxa bashing. Sorry. And some Clarke criticism but in the latter case, I mean it well.

Also this is really long whoops.

*

So...I miss when killing off main characters was a big deal and people actually reacted to it.

I truly cannot take Lxa seriously I’m sorry. I don’t find her... intimidating at all.

I’ve already complained repeatedly about her complete bad faith deal making at every turn so I won’t go into it again but nevertheless, here she is, again, moving the goal posts of the negotiation. ‘I’ll withdraw my army if you cure the Reapers. No, if you give up your friend. No, if you give me his body.’ Clarke should have double crossed her immediately.

Also I know that I ultimately did think it was reasonable for Finn to face Grounder justice (except insofar as that justice was itself morally untenable--that is, the Torture Porn) but now that he’s dead, I think there’s no real moral argument to be made that the Grounders deserve his body. I understand their traditions, which in fact I found quite moving when I first watched this ep, but surely his people have, or could make up, some traditions for his burial also. He is still their friend. This seems like little more than an excuse to be cruel. And Clarke’s so fucking broken she just goes with it. It’s truly awful. I mean she’s doing the only thing she can do I guess but it’s laughable that she sounds as if she has any sort of upper hand, you’re getting played bitch.

(Yeah I know, Lxa is being ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘revolutionary’ by even semi-accepting capital punishment without torture and taking his body is a way of appeasing her harder line advisers but like cry me a river--she’s either the all powerful commander or she’s fucking not.)

“We want the same things.” Lol if you wanted the same things you would have stuck to the original deal. No I’m not over this at all I guess.

I also still can’t get over how Clarke has literally never earned true leadership in the eyes of her own people and yet she continues to be randomly viewed as a leader by the Grounders and thus retains pretty much full de facto control over her own people’s power structure.

Also Kane shut the fuck up. I completely forgot about this but they really did put him through an off-screen 180 where all of a sudden Lxa is a God to him and can literally do nothing wrong and to this day we have never been given an explanation how that came to be. Guess it’s easier to tell not show huh?!?

ALSO I get we’re suppose to see a sort of racism-corollary to lines like “I don’t think they know what peace is” like obviously this rubs one the wrong way automatically. But Abby’s not really wrong. And despite what Kane thinks, Lxa has given, again, NO indication at all that she is interested in peace. She has given a lot of indications that she wants to do whatever she can to wring as much from the Sky People as she can without giving anything in return and hey we’re only halfway through the season and she’s already psychologically broken Clarke (also the only person she acknowledges as the leader even though she is not, cannot emphasize this enough, the leader of anything... and thus the only person L really has to break) and sunk-cost-fallacy-ed her into submission. Now that Finn is dead Clarke would cut off her own tit to make Lxa happy because anything else is “letting him die in vain.”

...Why am I so angry lol?

I understand the positions of both Clarke and Raven in this scene, which is fucking brutal, but I sympathize more with Raven. Clarke’s basically just a messenger, but what the Grounders are demanding is (I know I already said it) cruel, and cruel to Raven above all. And Clarke is almost all business. I think that’s what she needs to be for herself but it’s not helpful to the situation.

Anyway here are my faves in Mount Weather. It’s almost hard to watch these scenes because I want to, like, memorize them. Partially for the C/M story and partially just because. Today’s adventure is getting to a radio to send a message to the Ark-wide channel, which is a term for a thing that exists. Also I forgot how snarky everyone / Miller was to Maya. Which, I get. But--are they not thinking about how her own people have experimented on her? Like she is expendable to them, this is just a known fact at this time. So yes, there is a real risk to her, Nathan.

“Oh, is that all?” / “No--there’s more.” Monty’s so one-track he didn’t even hear the sarcasm. I love him.

“Their army has been getting their ass kicked by Mount Weather forever.” Bellamy speaking the truth. Do they need the alliance, or do they just need the Grounders to back the fuck off from attacking them? (Spoiler: they do not need the alliance.)

Ah Bellarke, always quick to reassure each other. Blindly, even.

“Since I don’t take orders from you, I’m going to need a better reason” is one of my favorite lines, and underrated. Finally someone reminding Clarke she’s not actually in charge of everyone and everything all the time. (I realize this sounds like I dislike Clarke. I don’t. I just find certain traits of hers frustrating. But this just makes her a good character.) Also you can see that, rather like her moment with Raven, she falls back on being business like and direct and issuing orders to avoid talking about feelings or breaking apart.

The United States War Room survives the apocalypse.

I’m sorry but it’s ridiculous to think that Lxa invented the concept of an alliance lol.

I guess Clarke needs to go all in on the alliance because of Finn, but... I also think this is part of who she is. Her sense of practicality outweighs any human desire to hold a grudge, and I think she assumes a level of practicality in others too, automatically, such that she underestimates wariness in others. Like Bellamy and Gustus and everyone is right to be uncertain about this literally hours-old alliance--not even an official alliance, since L’s latest demand hasn’t technically been met!--and Clarke’s like ��yeah I’ll sleep next to people who would have killed me six hours ago np!’ because now that she’s in, she’s in. She’s neither angry nor afraid.

Linctavia like “Google Earth, always taking pictures.”

Is Lincoln wearing Ark clothes?

I know Raven is made to look kind of wan and sunken and sad but yet this scene where she’s being disarmed is honestly like peak hotness for me and I don’t know why. I like my women sullen and covered in knives?

Interesting how allegedly only the warriors knew English and yet Lxa’s big announcement re: get in line with me or die is made in English. Just going to point out yet again what a big mistake that throwaway S1 line is.

What a sad life to lead, where random declarations followed by “or death” have to form the entirety of your belief system “Don’t be upset that your wife and child are dead...or I’ll beat you to a pulp.” I truly don’t understand how we were ever supposed to get in line with this society as sympathetic or interesting. So much so that they get a whole prequel I guess???

I’d rather have a Mount Weather prequel except not really, don’t ruin it for me.

I love Miller’s canonical insane superhuman strength. This is a trait often overlooked in fics.

The usual comment on Mount Weather scenes: I love all of it.

The thing is that if everyone were on board with the funeral ceremony, it is touching. Murderer and murdered together, and the people who’ve been hurt, on both sides, saying goodbye as a group. It’s just that Clarke’s people were coerced into this--they weren’t convinced it would be a fitting ceremony, just told ‘well this is how it is and if you don’t like it, we could perhaps... KILL YOU?”

Is this a new revelation that Mount Weather crashed the Exodus ship (still a really satisfying belated explanation imo)? Or did we know that because, unlike Monty et al, we knew about the jamming signals already? Can’t remember.

You can see how L came to believe what she believes but nevertheless this is bad advice lol. “Don’t care about other people.” Okay, I’ll just stop doing that then.

Mmmm, a feast in a subway station. Delicious. Fucking full pig head as the centerpiece. Very DC.

Kane (handing over pure space moonshine probably): Just don’t drink too much of it. Clarke (five minutes later): Guzzles whole bottle at once. #partygriff is officially canon.

Waiting until tomorrow to start the war? Procrastinators. Clarke didn’t kill Finn for this.

I love Certified Dramatic Ho Bellamy knocking the cup out of Clarke’s hand even though she had made no move whatsoever to drink it.

“When you plunged your knife into the heart of the boy you loved, did you not wish that it was mine.” Lxa, also a certified Dramatic Ho.

Clarke kinda deserved to be punched in the face given that it wouldn’t actually make sense for Raven to try to poison Lxa--and make Finn’s death mean nothing? And put them all in danger in enemy territory? Nonsense. Nevertheless it’s hard not to feel bad for her when she follows this accusation up with a psychotic break.

Hmmm, do I think Abby turning in Jake was the same as Clarke killing Finn? Not really. She didn’t directly kill Jake, that was Jaha, and Jaha is who Clarke should really be mad at. That said, I don’t think she was really saving anyone in the direct way Clarke was. So, apples and oranges. Crazy awkward moment to bring it up, though lol. “Oh Clarke, you’ll feel better eventually--remember that time I killed your Dad? I got over that! Wait--does talking about your dead father upset you? That’s a surprise!” Nevertheless I appreciate major actions having consequences as that’s a semi-rarity on this show.

Monty Green: hero.

“Lxa needs this alliance as much as we do.” - True, if she intends to get her people out of MW. “She’s shown herself to be flexible.” - Not true. She’s given the bare minimum of concessions. Kane, please crawl back out of her colon for like 5 seconds, get some air.

Interesting that Raven and Bellamy are chilling near each other. I wonder what they were discussing. Tbh Bellamy’s feelings on everything in this episode are rather opaque. Other than understanding why Clarke mercy-killed Finn and being skeptical of the alliance.

“Kill one person and destroy the alliance” is literally only merciful because the default in this society is “kill everyone all the time for any reason.” Like, I guess??? That’s mercy by comparison?? But forgive me if I am not moved to admiration.

“This time justice will be done” says the woman who used the barest sliver of evidence to decide that a random person was guilty so she could have a public execution. A public execution to replace the other public execution, in fact, not to avenge a death because Gustus isn’t dead. (Yet.)

Kane’s really okay with letting Raven be tortured to death, huh? Gah he’s fucking annoying.

Bellarke: Crime Solving Duo. That’s some satisfying teamwork. Clarke figures out how the scheme worked. Bellamy figures out who’s behind the scheme. With all the evidence put together, the motive becomes clear. (Honesty, they should have been suspicious that the poison not only didn’t kill Gustus, it barely harmed him lol.)

Check out all the Department of Homeland Security stuff on Monty’s computer. This is perhaps Dante’s log in? There’s a set of “personal” files too. And a set of President’s Office files, which one would assume not everyone would have.

Anyway, I have a Thing for tense sequences of hackers...hacking.

When I first watched this season I was often so tense my whole body hurt and it’s mostly because of MW scenes like this one where Monty is caught. Like aaaaah it still gets me. He almost makes it... and then almost makes it again, with his silly little salute... (Never forget that he is A Dork.)

On the one hand, Raven being tortured and then seeing Gustus tortured to death allows her to see why Clarke killing Finn was an act of mercy, to forgive her, and to move on, so the narrative can continue with them as allies and nominal friends. And it works, basically. But I also think there’s something to the theory that they were never the same, that the wound never really healed.

I’m sorry but Octavia’s face when Clarke’s like “Yeah B, you’re expendable, go get yourself killed, have a map!!” is hilarious. Like, he’s just said that Gustus doing anything for Lxa made sense, and Octavia responded with “Look at the thanks he got” which seems to me like She Knows and then 5 seconds later Bellamy is basically thrown away by the person we all know he’d do anything for... I mean the face is fair. Also this is Bellamy’s idea and it’s a good idea and so he was right before and Clarke is also right now, but it’s still so... annoying.... like “okay, I’m done caring about you lol bye.”

And Raven’s just totally confused. It’s been a damn long day I guess.

Why are they all such fucking hotties? It’s hard to pay attention to “the plot.”

So the ashes Abby tries to give to Clarke are the same ashes, perhaps, that Jasper scatters in S3? This vial looks smaller. Why did she not immediately give them to Raven? That would seem to be the obvious thing to do.

And here we see Clarke, under L’s direct influence, becoming Increasingly Insufferable. I love her but this is obviously supposed to be her descent into the abyss: she treats her friends like little expendable minions, she turns her back on Finn’s memory, and then she ends the episode by dramatically walking into a dark room in slow motion to creepy chamber music. I mean this is the hero’s fall guys!! That’s what it always was!!!

If only they’d handled Bellamy’s hero’s fall in 3A, and Clarke’s rise again in 3B, as well.

That ending is a straight up horror movie thanks that’s why this is my favorite season.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 26

I know the last few chapters have posted earlier in the day, but I’m excited I at least got this up on the right day. Yay!!

Life has been going on over here, and it keeps happening... Which is a hazard of living, right?  Better than the alternative.

As always, feedback is a glass of wine and dark chocolate for me (which I love, sincerely), so please leave any feedback you may have!

After a mild panic, the Council was able to calm down everyone who heard Tyche’s exclamation of poisoned food.  Grumbles were still plainly audible, but any rioting had been averted for the moment.  We had no choice but to clarify and explain what we suspected, but begged everyone not to let the information out until an official statement had been released.  Huynh had suggested blocking everyone’s communications access, but the idea was – thankfully – shot down immediately.  

Once all the food and drinks were tested, Miys was able to determine that anything not sealed had been tampered with.  It was no surprise that nearly everyone on Level One had traces of the drug in their systems, the only exclusions being Derek and Maverick.  Derek, I knew all too well, had severe aversions to food textures and mainly lived on what amounted to granola bars and room temperature bottled water, so the fact that he didn’t have any hydrocodone in his system was almost expected and confirmed that it was only being put in the food.

I motioned for Maverick to sit down with me and Antoine.  After some debate on what amounted to a criminal investigation, Eino had pointed out that I had the most experience of the people present when it came to interacting with anyone on the autistic spectrum.  Antoine was with me in his capacity as a companion, as he would be the least threatening back up I could have with me while still being more than capable of intervening if it became necessary.

“What did the short you say about poison?” Maverick asked almost immediately, eyes wide with mild panic.

“Someone put Vicodin in most of the food and drinks,” I explained.  I didn’t see any point in sugar coating it, having noticed in the past couple of days that Maverick was nearly impossible at picking up on subtlety. “Most of us have had symptoms, and Miys tested us.  They say the majority of us have enough in our blood to affect us.  You don’t, and I need you to explain why.”

He relaxed immediately, to my shock. “Is that all?  I’ve only had bottled water and black coffee since I came up here,” he shrugged like it was no major deal.

Antoine’s eyebrows furrowed.  “You are saying that, in nearly forty-eight hours, you have not eaten a single thing?”

“Well, yeah,” came the response, as though it should be obvious. “I didn’t like any of the food that was brought in, so I didn’t eat.  I’ve been taking supplements!” he declared defensively as I started scowling when I found out he hadn’t eaten.  “It happens, like, a lot, so I always carry them with me just in case.”  He took the bottle out of his jacket and rattled them for emphasis before handing them to me.

A glance at the label gave me the impression that they were just robust multivitamins. I handed them to Antoine, knowing he would have a better idea of what he was looking at.  He nodded and confirmed. “They’re just vitamins, but these are for geriatric patients?”

With a shrug, Maverick stated matter-of-factly, “Those are designed for people who don’t eat enough to meet their basic requirements.  Usually, yeah, it’s old people, but I end up missing meals pretty frequently, so those are the best ones.  That’s what the doctor told me back on Earth.”

To say I was horrified was a dramatic understatement.  How long had he been just skipping meals because he had what sounded like food aversions?  “Maverick. Jake. You can just tell me what you like, and I’ll make sure we have food for you. I do it all the time for Derek, and for his friend Sam.  Hell, I do it for anyone just about.  You don’t have to starve yourself and live on multivitamins and water.”

“Nah, I know I’m being a pain in the ass about food.  It’s fine, really. But please top calling me Jake.  It’s legally Maverick.  I changed it.  I earned the name Maverick.”

I was so confused.  “But you introduced yourself as Jake?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Terran Defense never updated my records, so they are all under that name. I wanted you to be able to find them. But it’s not my name.”

Oh.  I was starting to get angry, not at him, but at the people who made him so nonchalant at the sheer level of fuckery people had used in regard to him in the past.

“Can you go get Derek?” I asked Antoine quietly before looking back at the pilot on the opposite side of the table. “You aren’t being a pain in the ass.  I believe that you’ve been told that for a very long time, but that doesn’t make it true, and it certainly doesn’t make it right.  I am the one who will be deciding what food is brought up from now on, and Miys will be testing it.  So, if I say you can ask me for whatever you will actually eat, no one else gets a say in that.  Does that make sense?”

“Whatever,” he grunted.

I was saved by the arrival of Antoine and Derek. “Maverick Okima, I would like to formally introduce to Derek ‘That Guy’ Okafor, scourge of sysadmins everywhere. Derek, I am trying to convince Maverick that it’s okay to ask for different food if he doesn’t like what we are bringing in.” I focused on using Maverick’s own term – don’t like – rather than calling it a food aversion, mainly because I wasn’t sure he had ever had the difference explained to him from what few clues I was able to pick up.

<Sophia’s okay> Derek signed. <She likes feeding us food we like.  She says if we don’t like it, there isn’t a point in having food to begin with.>

Maverick looked very confused.  “My father said something like that before he died.  It’s a very Japanese thing to say.”

I pointed at my face. “Cajun, among other things.  I do not believe in ‘eating to live’. In my family, we live to eat.  The short me, as you call her, is gluten intolerant, some of my family doesn’t like spicy food, I love spicy food, so does Antoine.  I still manage to make one meal a week for all of us, cooked by hand I might add, and try to include Derek as much as possible when he feels up to.”

Derek snapped to get Mavericks attention before adding, <No spicy, no sour, no squishy.>

“He likes food with firmer textures,” I clarified on the ‘squishy’ comment. “Nothing mushy, or creamy, no cake, ice cream, or gelatin, that kind of thing.”

“Don’t you get mad that they’re picky?” Maverick asked, still suspicious.

I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not.  It’s a challenge, and if they don’t like it, that’s a failure on my part, not theirs.”

“She makes very good turkey,” Antoine mused before smirking. “Although her sister makes amazing doughnuts.”

<The mushy fish was gross.> Derek wrinkled his nose in an exaggerated fashion.

I just rolled my eyes. “I literally told you that you wouldn’t like it. I don’t like poached fish because of the texture.”

That seemed to be the comment that Maverick needed to hear. “Wait. You cooked something you don’t even like for someone else, because they wanted it?”

“Kind of?” I squeaked uncertainly. “Arantxa over there.  She didn’t ask for it, but as a holiday gift from me to her, I learned how to make one of her native dishes. I had no clue that it was poached fish when I made that decision. But she mentioned it the day I met her, and also that she didn’t know how to make it….” I trailed off and shrugged. “Personally, I like my fish seared, grilled, baked, or sashimi.  Poached is just… too weird for me.”

Antoine nodded very seriously. “It was very good, as a person who does like poached fish.”

“Rants seemed to like it,” I shrugged again. “All that mattered.”

“So, if I wanted mochi, because I didn’t get any the first time, that would be okay?” Maverick asked tentatively.  “Even red bean mochi?”

I moaned, “Oh my gosh, absolutely yes.  If there were any red bean mochi last time, I am sorry to say I didn’t get any.  You and I can just hog them all.”

<Hide them from Zach,> Derek joked. <I think he ate most of the gross dumplings last time.>

“Heathen,” I muttered jokingly.  It was really no surprise that Derek didn’t like mochi.  Glutenous foods definitely fell in the category of ‘squishy’.  I patted Maverick on the arm gently. “Okay, I’m pretty convinced you didn’t drug the food, mostly because you’re a terrible liar, which is something to be proud of.  On the food thing, please just make me a list of foods you like, or at least a list of stuff that makes you not like certain foods, and I will happily make sure to take that into account.  Real quick, though, I’m about to put in the request for tomorrow, so other than mochi, what do you want? Try to give me as many things as you can think of off the top of your head, because I want to be sure it’s in the system.”

“Miso soup, for sure.  Boiled eggs? Scrambled eggs are weird, but I don’t know if the consoles can do boiled eggs, and I never asked. Savory crepes are good, though. Ooo! Pizzza!  I love pizza, especially anchovy.  I know a lot of people think it’s gross, but it’s really good, I swear. Fried pies are good, too.”

“So, strongly flavored, savory and/or salty dishes.  Got it,” I murmured as I made a note in my data screen. I flicked my wrist absent-mindedly to dismiss it before musing “You probably would have liked the bacalao al pil pil.”

“Is that the mushy fish thing?” he asked skeptically.

“Yep.”

“Nope. I can’t do mushy fish. Mushy means it isn’t cooked right, which means I’ll get sick.”

I chuckled. “I totally agree.  The good news is, at least now I have someone other than Tyche to share pizza with!”

“No one else likes pizza!?” he gasped. “No way! That’s sacrilege!”

“Oh, tons of people like pizza,” I assured him. “But Tyche is the only other person I met who likes anchovy pizza.”

“They’re stupid. It’s awesome!”

I shot him a look. “Please don’t call people stupid because they don’t agree with you. It’s rude, and I can’t stand rude people.” It was a slight exaggeration; I had a pretty flexible definition of what was and wasn’t rude, but calling someone names because they disagree with you definitely fell firmly in the rude category.  “A lot of people don’t like fish, or can’t have too much salt, or just don’t do well with really strong flavored foods.” I nodded toward Derek, who flipped Maverick the bird.

“Okay, okay,” he apologized. “That was wrong of me. I didn’t think of that. Still, it’s really good.”

“Well, you have two other people to eat it with now,” I smiled.

Rather than celebrating, Maverick looked like he just realized something. “Wait.  Who is Tyche?”

“My sister.”

“You – Wait. That’s short you?”

“Yes, and for the love of whatever your favorite body part is, do not call her that to her face.”

“Noted,” he nodded seriously and gulped. “She’s scary.  Like, scarier than you, scary.”

<Be nice. They own the cat.> Derek warned him, slapping him lightly on the arm.

“I like Mac,” he considered. “I guess that makes you less scary.  I’m still pretty sure your sister could kill me, though.”

By this point, Antoine looked completely confused. “Why is everyone afraid of Tyche? I don’t understand.”

<Why aren’t you afraid of her?> Derek rebutted.

I shot Antoine a dirty look before he could reply. “I have absolutely zero desire to hear whatever tooth-rotting, fluffy nonsense is about to come out of your mouth,” I told him flatly.  The last thing I wanted was him to accidentally de-fang my sister’s well-earned reputation.

He balked slightly before straightening his shoulders. “Fine. I will let them be afraid of her. I was just going to say I’m not afraid of her because I am her partner, just like you are her sister. And Maverick has three other people to eat the anchovy pizza with.” He pointed to himself. “You never asked me, Sophia. Do you really think Tyche would not have me try it?”

I held my hands up placatingly. “Fair, fair.  I didn’t know you had tried it since the last time I mentioned it.”  I turned back to Maverick. “So, now that we’ve established your alibi - can’t consume drugs when you aren’t consuming anything at all - I’ll have Grey and probably Pranav fact-check it, just to completely rule you out as a suspect, okay?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled in what sounded like relief.  “Do you think it will take long? I have to pilot the ship to Meenie pretty soon, and I don’t know if they’ll let me while they’re doing all that?”

“That’s honestly Xiomara’s call, since we decided the flight crew fall under her jurisdiction.  It shouldn’t take more than a day, but I understand that we only have a couple hours before we’re done at Eenie, right?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Can you check with Councillor Kalloe, please?” he begged. “I don’t want my flight privileges revoked.”

“You bet. Antoine, are we done here?”

He gestured affirmatively. “I don’t know what else we can do right now, so yeah, I would say we are done. You,” he pointed sternly at Maverick, “will eat.  I will send Noah for the food myself. It is not safe for you to do something as important as piloting a ship when you have been starving yourself, but I also do not want to make you sick. You said you like miso soup, yes?” When Maverick nodded, Antoine stood. “I will ask our host to get miso soup, and I will watch you eat two hundred milliliters before you pilot. Sophia, if you could relay this to Councillor Kalloe when you speak to her, please?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

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[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol, Jake Seresin, suggestive language, fear of abandonment. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.87k

A/N: Wasn't sure I was going to post again tonight, but here we are! Not sure I'm going to post a fic update tomorrow, but I might work on some drabbles and post some of the asks sitting in my inbox. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The cool, night breeze twisted its way through the door of the crowded pub as a group of patrons exited, offering the briefest relief to your clammy skin as you busied yourself behind the bar. Patrons crowded around the various tables, some laughing in the open while others crowded in the dark shadows of the corners. Your regulars were easy to spot, most of them fishermen. Their carefree attitudes set them apart from the strangers passing through who kept themselves closed off and guarded in an unfamiliar places.

“Y/n!” Called Tom, one of your regulars. He had been a good friend to your father, having known him from his early fishing days. Tom had done well for himself, having been able to put enough money away to buy his own ship - the Iceman. “How’s about another ale!”

“Coming, Captain!” you hollered over at him jovially, already moving to grab a fresh glass. You had always liked the old captain, and had considered him to be a part of your family growing up. When your parents had died, he had seen to it personally that you were taken care of and that Bradley was able to secure steady work on the various shipping vessels that docked on your shores. “Where’s Rooster?”

“Should be coming along soon, I suspect,” Tom smiled warmly. Bradley had been picking up different odd jobs as of late, his latest one being aboard the Iceman loading and unloading cargo. He had been dodging your questions about it as of late, and you had started to wonder if he was up to something.

“He’s going to work himself into an early grave,” you grumbled, sliding the glass of ale down to the captain who caught it easily. “He won’t even tell me what he’s doing all of these jobs for.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” mused Tom, lifting the glass up to his lips to take a swig. “He probably doesn’t want you to worry.”

“He’s worrying me by not saying anything,” you countered, leaning against the bar. At that moment, the pub door swung open, and an exhausted looking Bradley stumbled through. You rounded the bar to help him sit down as he staggered onto a stool. “Bradley, for heaven’s sake!”

“Think you can get me an ale, Guppy?” he asked, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. The tips of his ears and nose were seared pink from hours spent in the intense sun, and you frowned at him.

“What you need is sleep,” you countered, but Bradley shook his head, fixing you with tired, pleading eyes.

“Please?” he asked again, softer this time. You sighed, moving back behind the bar and pouring him a draft before sliding it over to him. He grabbed it, raising it up in a silent cheers before tossing his head back with a long swig.

“Easy, lad,” Tom frowned, watching the young man as he took another long pull from his glass. Bradley set his drink down, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Another,” he told you, but you shook your head.

“No, absolutely not,” you scowled as the furrow between his eyes deepened. “You need to go home and rest, Bradley.”

“She’s right, lad,” Tom started, twisting in his seat to face the younger man. “You’ll work yourself into an early grave if you’re not careful.”

“I’m fine,” Bradley muttered, resting his head against the palm of his hand. Tom gave him a wry smile before clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. He shot you a wink before getting up to join his crew that was gathered on the opposite side of the room. You watched him go before turning back to look at Bradley with a frown.

“C’mon, Roos,” you prodded, leaning your head down so you could meet his gaze that was fixed on the bartop. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Nothin’” he grumbled unconvincingly. You rolled your eyes with a purse of your lips.

“I’m having a hard time believing you,” you sniped, snatching the glass away from him. Without another word to him, you poured another ale and offered it to him. He took it, offering a small smile. He met your even gaze just long enough for you to see the flash of guilt that flitted in his eyes. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, taking a small sip from his glass.

“Why do you look guilty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you hissed, eyes blazing, “I have known you for twenty years now. Either you tell me what you’re up to right now, or I will personally see to it that you won’t be able to get another job for a month.”

“Alright,” he winced, setting the glass down and finally meeting your stare. “You have to promise me you won’t yell.”

You scoffed. “Are you twelve?”

“Guppy, promise me,” he insisted, hazel eyes pleading with you. You studied him another moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re what?” you shrieked, causing some of the patrons to turn to the two of you as Bradley hissed at you to be quiet.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

“That was before you told me you were leaving,” you snapped. “Where are you even going to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, leaning back. “Still need to find a crew that will take me on long-term.”

You stayed silent, watching him with furious eyes. After a couple of beats, you turned to walk back around the bar. “Caroline, I’m leaving.”

She waved after you, moving to tend to some patrons on the opposite end of the bar. Bradley watched you walk away with wide eyes before getting up to stumble after you. You flung the door of the pub open before setting off with a brisk pace down the road.

“Guppy!”

You ignored the man behind you, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Guppy?”

The tears began to fall, the trails they left behind on your cheeks turning to ice in the cool, night air. You turned to walk down to the beach past the docks. How could he drop that bomb shell on you? How could he keep that hidden from you in the first place? Your anger only served to cover up the true emotion you tried your hardest to ignore. Betrayal.

“Y/n, please,” Bradley begged, his long legs having helped him catch up to you by now. You stopped in your tracks, feet sliding into the sand beneath you as you whirled around. You shoved Bradley with all of your strength, shock at the unexpected movement being the only reason stumbled back at all.

“How could you?” you cried, tears falling quicker and your breath coming out shallower as you fought to keep your composure. “How could you just plan to leave me?”

“It’s not like that,” he started, but you shook your head.

“Don’t lie to me, Bradley,” you seethed, hands now clenched at your sides. “Don’t. I deserve the truth. Were you even going to say goodbye to me, or were you just going to vanish one day?”

“Of course not,” he murmured, staring at you with eyes once again pleading with you. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”

“I thought I knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t leave,” you shot back, causing Bradley to wince. “Guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

“Y/n,” he sighed, running a hand over his face and looking out at the ocean. He seemed to be mulling over his words. “It wouldn’t be forever.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” you laughed humorlessly.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” he continued, giving you a pointed look. “It would only be until I earned enough to buy my own ship.”

“You can do that here,” you argued, but Bradley shook his head with a small, empty laugh.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve barely earned enough these past weeks to live off of for a month out at sea. I’d be buried in the ground before I earned enough to buy a ship, and you know that.”

You couldn’t argue. You knew he was right, and you knew that this was not the life he had dreamed of. He had dreamed of going off with your father on one of his many voyages before the sea had claimed him. It had been years, but the pain of his and your mother’s passing still felt fresh in your heart.

You saw how Bradley looked longingly out at the sea when he thought you weren’t looking, or how he always looked happiest standing on the deck of a boat. No, Bradley was meant for a life at sea, and you knew it. You just never thought he would leave you behind.

“It won’t be forever,” he says again, moving to put his hands on your shoulders, bending down so he was eye level with you. “And when I earn enough money to buy my own ship, I’ll come back for you.”

“That could be years,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. Bradley sucks in a breath before slowly nodding.

“You’re right,” he conceded, wiping the tears from your cheek.

“What if you forget about me?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh before drawing you into his arms. He hugged you tightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “How could I forget my baby sister? Besides, I think you’d swim across the ocean to find me if I ever forgot about you.”

You huffed a laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re probably right.”

“‘Course I am,” he chuckled, pulling away from you. “Now, c’mon. It’s freezin’ out here, and I’m exhausted.”

You allowed him to lead you up the hill to your shared home. He left a chaste kiss to the top of your head before wishing you goodnight. As you lay in bed that night, you obsessed over the one question you had refused to allow yourself to ask him down at the beach. What if the sea claimed him too?

The following night, you found yourself back behind the bar of the pub. You had heard snippets of chatter amongst the locals about an unknown ship that had docked on your shores.

“I don’t like the look of’em,” Tom had told you and Bradley as he sat at the bar. A lull in the crowd had granted you a moment to stop and talk with the two of them.

“Why’s that?” you asked. He frowned.

“When you get to be my age,” he grumbled, “you can start to pick out the rotten sorts from just a glance.”

Before you could respond, the pub door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud. All three of you turned to see a large group step through the doorway and into the warm glow of the lantern filled room. A blond man stood at the front of the group, lips curled into a confident smirk. You noted the handsome features of him and his companions, and you knew the other women in the room had as well due to the scattered giggles from around the room.

“That’s them,” Tom mumbled, taking another sip of his ale.

The blond scanned his eyes across the room before catching sight of you at the bar. A twinkle of intrigue shone in his eyes as he began to saunter over to you, his crew dispersing to find a table to sit at. You shot a weary glance at Tom before moving to meet the tall stranger on the opposite side of where Bradley sat.

“Evenin’” you greeted with a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked you over with lick of his lips. “An ale, and your company if you’re offerin’ that too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t the first time a patron had made a pass at you, but it was the first time a patron was that devilishly handsome. “The ale, I can get you, but I’m not in the habit of entertaining sailors.”

“Shame,” the stranger grins, watching as you pour his drink. You hand it to him, and you feel a shiver run up your spine as his fingers graze yours. “Would have been nice to have someone as pretty as you in my bed tonight.”

You saw Bradley’s jaw tick from the corner of your eye, and you shot him a warning glance. This part of your job wasn’t new, and you had long since learned how to handle yourself in these situations.

“I believe there are more than a couple of girls over there who would be willing to warm your bed tonight, Mr…?”

“Seresin,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Jake Seresin. And I’m not interested in having anyone but you, pretty girl.”

“Well, then it looks like your bed will go cold tonight after all,” you said to him. Bradley snorted, trying to cover it with a cough, but Jake ignored him.

“Seresin,” Tom grunted, causing all three of you to look at him. He shook his head, and turned to glare at Jake. “I’ve heard of you. You’re a pirate.”

The conversation died in the pub as everyone turned to look at your little group by the bar. Jake’s easy grin never faltered as he stared back at Tom.

“Pirate is such a nasty word,” he drawled, taking a sip of his ale. “I prefer the term…liberator.”

“Whatever you call it, you have no business here,” Tom snapped.

“I beg to differ, my friend,” Jake countered, moving to stand. Turning to the rest of the room, he stated, “I’m looking for men to join my crew. You keep what you can carry with you. If you’re interested, come see me.”

And with one final glance at you, he sauntered off towards the back of the room where his crew had taken up purchase.

“Pirates?” you asked, looking at Tom hesitantly. He shook his head and got up to go join his own crew in the corner. You peered at Bradley from the corner of your eye. He studied the rim of his glass as he stroked it thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him. He jumped as your words pulled him from his train of thought.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, refusing to meet your gaze. You studied him him for a moment until you saw the quick glance he threw towards the back of the room.

“No,” you snapped, causing him to finally meet your gaze. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” he scowled, but you fixed him with a glare and a finger pointed into his chest.

“Don’t even think about it,” you hissed in warning. Bradley glared right back at you before hopping off his stool and strutting towards the crew at the back. You scrambled around the bar after him. You closed the distance just as he stopped in front of Jake.

“I want to join your crew,” he stated. Jake looked at him with an amused look, eyes flickering to you as you pulled on Bradley’s arm so that he faced you.

“Bradley, don’t,” you begged.

“Y/n, enough,” he snapped down at you, taking you aback. His eyes softened as you looked up at his broad frame with hurt bewilderment. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his sandy brown locks. He looked back at you before continuing. “Don’t you see, Guppy? This is my chance. If I don’t go now, who knows when I’ll get another opportunity to leave and make my fortune.”

“Roo, you’re my brother. I can’t let you do this,” you pleaded, taking his hand in yours. You willed him to listen to you, but it was no use.

“I’ve made my decision, Guppy,” he said. You couldn’t stop the flash of hurt you knew passed over your face as Bradley turned back to the captain. You looked around at the other patrons desperately before settling your eyes on Tom. He was already looking at you with a solemn expression, shaking his head.

“Sign here,” Jake instructed, pointing to the piece of parchment he had rolled out onto the table. Bradley obeyed, scratching his name in quick strokes to the bottom. You felt the tears start to run down your face before you could stop them. You couldn’t stop anything, it seemed. Bradley straightened and turned to look at you. The two of you stared at one another for several moments before you turned on your heel and stormed away from him.

That night, as you lay in bed, you dreamed of the sea. You dreamed of blue and green swirling around you as you struggled to breath. You dreamed of splintering wood and echoed shrieks that were drowned out by thundering waves. You dreamed of strange creatures that lurked the deep as they waited for their next meal. You dreamed of golden hair and cocky smirks as they taunted you beneath the waves. You dreamt of a cold, calloused hand that pulled you under until the surface was nothing but a distant memory.

[spidermaninlove]

okay here is my question, and thank you for running such a smooth, great tomdaya blog. One, you've explain how the secret is being kept. But does anybody find it kind of odd that nobody on any set has spilled or sold their story to tabloids? Not one person has blabbed, other than that young actress/Skye's mom? I mean caterers, guards, props, nobody has spilled the beans?? nope not an anti, just somebody astonished at this beautiful couple's well kept secret

1) Not everyone knows about them.  An actor visiting another actor on set in LA on occasion isn’t uncommon.  Paul Wesley recently visited his former costar, Nina Dobrev, on the set of Fam and she even ran to him and hugged him.  If I didn’t know Paul is married, that would have looked suspect to me.  I’m pretty sure Tom and Z don’t display PDA on set, and Tom isn’t in LA that often.  Now if Z showed up on set in AL, that would look suspect.

2) Did you not see the People article?  If not, I’ll post the link below.  Someone definitely sold them out.  Here’s an excerpt from that article:  “They started seeing each other while they were filming Spider-Man,” says the source. “They’ve been super careful to keep it private and out of the public eye but they’ve gone on vacations with each other and try and spend as much time as possible with one another.”  

3)  Noelle Devoe, who published an article in Seventeen, and who dubbed them Tomdaya, reported they had “insane chemistry” while doing The Hollywood Reporter photoshoot.  It was obvious to Noelle, the captain of our ship, and she said so!  

4)  Some people are careful to keep it private, but sometimes they slip.  It may be subtle and you have to look for it, but it happens.  For example, @ebe525 recently shared with me in DM that during Haz’s sister, Charlotte’s, live story on Insta, her friends were acting suspicious when talking about Z.  Let me see if I can find the DM. 

DM

Harrison’s sister, Charlotte, is doing an insta live with her friends. It’s a mess but people keep asking about Tom and if he is single. Charlotte has been trying to just ignore those questions. It’s been going on for awhile. I’m listening to it while I clean.  She has only answered questions like saying yes she knows T and Tuwaine, and she said she had met Zendaya and Jake. One of her friends also said she met Zendaya then she made a funny look like “Oh, I shouldn’t have admitted that.”  The friends clearly were told not to talk about Z and T because you can see them readin the comments about them (not out loud) and then they look at each other like signaling to each other “don’t say anything” - being typical 15/16 year olds. 

Charlotte is good. She is good at just ignoring those comments, but her friends are making a lot of eye contact with each other. 

She said it under her breath (”Oh, I shouldn’t have admitted that”) but you could understand what she was saying. But their eye contact was cracking me up. Not very subtle. Someone even commented near the end of it that they thought Charlotte had warned her friend not to mention Tom or Zendaya on the live.  People have no chill on these lives. Like they kept asking if Tom was single over and over even though Charlotte was clearly ignoring those questions. I was impressed how good she was about ignoring those comments.  She could teach Deja and Kamil a thing or two.  It was her friends who acted a bit squirrelly at times.  

5)  Tom, himself, has slipped he’s in a relationship, and Z mentioned a relationship on her app.    

People article: https://people.com/movies/zendaya-dating-spider-man-costar-tom-holland/ 

[chaunceyandchumleysdad]

Riot Fest, 2019 September 13, 14, 15,

This is a summary of my three days at Riot Fest this year. For day-by-day blogs, see my previous posts.

Days and Hours – This was my 7th consecutive Riot Fest and the 6th consecutive one that I attended all three days. This year, I completely maxed out my time at the festival, arriving each before or at the time that the first band went on and leaving after the last band. 30 hours of music in three days. Including golf and a White Sox game on the Thursday before Riot Fest and playing in my racquetball league the day after, I don’t think my legs, knees and feet have ever been so over-used and abused. But it was all well worth it.

Scheduling/Bands I Did Not See – My day-by-day write-up of the bands I saw are on the three previous posts. Scheduling will never work out as well as I would like it to. (The Riot Fest web site always says something to the effect of, “Sorry we didn’t schedule the exact bands you wanted to see in the exact order that you wanted to see them.”) I thought the line up was terrific this year. I always think about bands I’d like to see before the line-up comes out. Once the line-up is released, I focus on the bands that will be there and I always discover a lot of great music. There were a few bands that I wanted to see this year but missed due to time conflicts with other bands, including: Cleopatrick, Avail, PVRIS, Hot Snakes, Turnover, The Beaches, American Football, Bob Mould, Descendants and Skating Polly. I have previously seen the last three on the list but I have never seen the others. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to see them all some other time.

Quotes - I heard so many hilarious quotes this year from band members and people in the crowd. Unlike previous years, I was rather lazy and did not jot down too many of them, but these two stuck in my head:

·         Less Than Jake: “California is too cool for us. Chicago is too trashy for us and I mean that in the most endearing way.”

·         I Don’t Know How But They Found Me, the bass guitar and drums duo, commenting on why they don’t have more musicians in their band: “Why should we pay a guitar player for two extra strings?”

Weather – It was another fine mid-September weekend for Riot Fest.

·         Friday – it rained heavily during the night. But the ground absorbed most of the moisture and a strong breeze helped dry out the grounds by the time things got underway. There were several small areas of mud and puddles, but it was minimal and wood chips were laid down in the wet, high traffic areas so mud was never an issue. It was warm, but the continuous breeze was refreshing.

·         Saturday – This day was perfect. Blue skies, warm but not too hot and a bit of a breeze.

·         Sunday – Rain in the early morning again created some wet muddy areas, but like Friday, it was minimal. The air was more humid, but the breeze was strong and sun came out as the day went on. Late in the day, it clouded up and was just spitting a bit of rain, but only for maybe 15 minutes.

Lighting – Riot Fest at night has often been very dark, to the point where it can be very difficult to see where you are walking. People would often use their cell phone flashlights to find their way. This year was different for a couple of reasons. The main reason was the full moon. It shone so brightly that at one point, I thought it was still dusk maybe an hour after the sun had set. Even with the cloud cover on Sunday, it still created enough light to easily see all the surroundings. The other reason was that in general, there was more electric lighting than I had even seen around the grounds. That was mainly due to the increased number of bars. In addition, there were I think eight spotlights shining up in the sky and doing a sort of synchronized light show by crossing beams and creating angles. I was laying on my back for a bit during Patti Smith’s set and I became mesmerized by the spotlights.

Beer – There were more bars than ever at this Riot Fest so I never had to go far for beer. Even the small Rebel stage had a bar next to it this year. And there were folks pulling around wagons filled with cold canned beer for sale as well as some portable beer carts scattered around here and there. As with past years, only the centrally located All Rise Brewery bar had draft beers and I did drink my share of Wonder Beer from that bar. The other bars had canned beer, but that is much improved from earlier Riot Fests when they served pedestrian canned beers such as Heineken that were not always very cold. Now they serve craft beers such as Next Coast and the wonderful Riot Fest Sucks Pale Ale from Goose Island. My wife and I really enjoyed that beer, but unfortunately, toward the end of the first day, they ran out and that was it for the weekend for that specialty beer. The cool thing was that you could peel off the label and there was a label underneath that had the three-day schedule. I’m glad I thought to save a couple of labels before they ran out. Hopefully they will have it again next year with enough inventory to sustain all of us thirsty pale ale lovers. (Of course, I also supplemented my beer drinking with the Jack Daniels that I smuggled in every day.)

Transportation – For my first six years of Riot Fest, I took the L train the festival. While I always considered it part of the experience as my excitement would build along the way, it was at times a painfully slow way to get there and an even slower way to get home. Each night, it was brutal trying to get onto the Pink Line with the throngs of festival goers, and then I’d have to take the long ride on the Blue Line after that. Unless I got lucky, the wait for the trains was long because the CTA does not add additional service to accommodate Riot Fest. This year, I wanted to make it more pleasant for my wife who was attending two of the three days, so we drove. We were there early each day, so parking was easy. It was also quick and easy driving away from the park area and once I was on the Eisenhower Expressway, it was a short ride home. Since I was going by myself on the Day 3, my original plan was to take the L that day. However, I got spoiled driving the first two days and I could not deal with the thought of taking the train, so I drove again. My son was there on Sunday so we both benefited by having the car for the ride home. I did kind of miss my usual walk up California Avenue when arriving via the Pink Like and my return walk down Kedzie Avenue while heading back to the Pink Line. However, the daily parking location allowed us to walk through the north section of the park each day. With the lagoon, stone bridge, high school and stately field house, it was very nice to experience the beauty of Douglas Park every day of the weekend.

Event – Riot Fest has always been a mostly well-run festival. Of course, every year is a learning experience and the next year always has some improvements over previous years. This year, the availability of beer was the best ever (as noted above). I don’t spend a lot of time on food, preferring to eat just once a day for fuel only. So the pulled pork/mac and cheese combo at Reggies has the protein and carbs I needed. They did run out of mac and cheese the first day when I went to eat so I had a burger. Nothing special. I don’t spend any time at the merchandise area, but their seemed to be a lot of interesting things if you are into shopping. My wife did buy a Riot Fest drawstring bag after the one she was using developed a rip. Rest rooms (port-o-potties) were ample. I never waited more than a couple of minutes. They could use another water station. I say that every year and they still only have one. I suppose they want you to buy beer, and while your at it, water from the vendors. Riot Fest, I can guarantee you, even with more access to free water, I will still drink as much beer as I always do! The shows all went off on time and without a hitch. The grounds were in good shape and the park absorbed most of the rain. Trash was picked up regularly. Assistants walked around unobtrusively to be sure everyone was OK. The folks at the gates were friendly. The police were cool and as always, the Riot Fest fans were very cool. I saw no trouble at all in my 30 hours at the festival. Thanks to the vendors, the maintenance crews and the fans who pick up cigarette butts in exchange for free admission, for all their hard work. Thanks also to security for intercepting all the crowd surfing punks by the stage. That has to be a tough job. Thanks also to the Mt. Sanai Hospital and St. Anthony hospital as well as the South Lawndale and Little Village neighbors for putting up the invasion of Punk Rockers for three days every year.

[mpmcorner]

How did Jack Flint die? Music icon cause of death has been explained

Jack Flint, Red Dirt Country Artist, Dies at 37 Let's take a closer look at what happened to him and the death of Jack Flint.

How did Jack Flint die? Music icon cause of death has been explained

What happened to Jack Flint?

Oklahoma-based Red Dirt country musician Jake Flint has died at the age of 37, according to his wife and longtime manager. Unfortunately, just hours after his Saturday wedding, he tragically died (November 26). Brenda Cline, Flint's manager, wrote a heartfelt condolence on Facebook for her client and friend. "It is with a broken heart and great pain that I have to announce that Jack Flint has sadly passed away," he said. I've tried to post several times today, but you can't even mention something you can't understand. It is with a broken heart and deep sorrow that I must announce the tragic passing of Jack Flint. I've tried several times today to create a post, but you can't comment on what you can't process. The photo below is when Jake and I excitedly signed our artist management contract. It was the beginning of a wonderful friendship and partnership. Jake was more than that to me, I loved him like a son. Funniest, funniest, hardworking, dedicated artist I've ever worked with in my life. After he and Brenda got married we were going to do some business together - and that was yesterday. Yes-yesterday. Jake has a million friends and I don't know how everyone will cope with this tragic loss. We need prayers - these are all very real. Please pray for his new wife Brenda, Jake's precious mother, his sister and his family and friends. This can be incredibly difficult for many people. We love Jake and you in our hearts forever. Flint's new wife, Brenda Wilson, posted video footage of the couple's wedding day, captioning the post, "I don't get it."

Jack Flint is the cause of death

Following his death, many of Flint's friends shared memories on social media, as did the bars and venues he frequented as an artist. The official cause of death is yet to be reported. Neither online reports nor family members have yet released a cause of death for Jack Flint. Mpmcorner is trying to reach family and relatives for comment on the incident. No response yet. We will update the page once we get enough information. More information on Jake Flint's cause of death will be added soon. The red dirt world lost a good one. Pray for Jake Flint, his family and friends today. We will miss you my friend. pic.twitter.com/HAuBNJ3GIV — Oklahoma State Probs 🍊 (@OKSTProbs) November 28, 2022

Who is Flint?

Born in Mounds, Oklahoma in 1985, Flint first learned to play guitar when his father asked some musician friends to teach him the instrument after receiving a diagnosis of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). The singer's website says those beginnings inspired him to attend Flint bluegrass festivals and eventually lead him to start playing. In 2020, he released his latest single “What's Your Name”. While this is going on, Flint has several shows planned for 2022 and 2023. He also became a prominent artist in Oklahoma, Texas and other states.

Country music fans mourn the death of Jack Flint

Jake Flint's fans flocked to social media On learning of his demise, many mourned the loss of a rising star. "I just learned about it. Take it easy, Jacob. You stood out among the crowd. Without you, as one admirer said, the world is a smaller place. RIP Jack Flint. Unbelievably sad news. Jake was a beloved green country musician,” said another. “What a prickly prick man. Jack Flint is a man's prince and the world is lesser without him. Unreal,” added a third. Dylan Stewart said, For someone who considers himself an orator, I certainly can't find the words. You were best friends, Jack Flint. Just seeing your face brought a huge smile to my face. I sure miss you in life old friend. And I really look forward to finding you at the next one. #oldfriendsshinelikediamonds #ripjakeflint #myfriend Fourth Life Said we are saddened to hear of the passing of Ole Jacob Flint. He is a great talent with an even better personality and we are incredibly lucky to have him on our stage. Thoughts and prayers to him and his family. We were very saddened to hear of the passing of our friend Jake Flint. Please lift up his family in prayer. You will be missed Jake. @JakeFlintMusic pic.twitter.com/SiidINkIme — The Salty Bronc (@thesaltybronc) November 28, 2022 Kevin said, Steve Liddell introduced me to Jake over the phone a few years ago. Apart from being involved in music, we both come from a petroleum industry background. We texted back and forth about getting together for lunch, but couldn't line up our schedules to meet in person. Fast forward to 10/25/2021 & fate brings us together at the Amigo The Devil show at The Vanguard in Tulsa. Fourth and direct said, My friend Chris West gave me the ticket and as I walked in I was greeted by Brad Dunipin who said "Jake Flint's here too!" I went over and finally tried to introduce myself. Me, him and our besties (Crystal & Brenda) finished several rounds of Jameson and enjoyed the show. I last saw Jake at the Oklahoma Music HOF Induction for Mike McClure. We greeted each other with a smile and a big hug that will last forever. My heart goes out to Brenda and the families. RIP Ole Jacob Flint…..I wish I had known you longer! What a punch, man. 😢 Jack Flint is a man's prince, the world is less without him. Unreal. https://t.co/e8w7B02vuE pic.twitter.com/YSKN41b1z3 — Dale Nixon (@ole_cv) November 28, 2022 Also read: How did General Jose Silvestre Urzua die? Cause of death revealed Follow us Facebook For more updates. Read the full article