#like we can hijack a plane

[mahoganyrust]

@midoristeashop

Okay so first im gonna put on some Tchaikovsky. Then I shall sit down, I will tuck a very high quality napkin into the collar of my silly little French-ahh black button up shirt. Im gonna polish my shining silverware and behold it like Hannibal Lecter beholds Will Graham. I will then savour, taste, consume and chew this sweet sweet nectar of visual pleasure and hold it in my gullet for a moment before allowing its delectable nutrients to be absorbed into my being. I will then dab my lips, arise and use the energy derived to further enhance the power of my retina so I can return to my screen and gaze at this divine blessing upon my existence.

(Tldr) Or…Alternatively in gif form:

hey rust,,,,

and I’m not even fuckin kidding when I tell u that the outfit subconsciously implanted itself in my little brain cells that I wore a fit so closely similar to the vibe of hic’s to my first day of microbio,,, like the leather jacket + shoulder bag and color scheme HELLO

@mahoganyrust

[tanadrin]

@grimogretricks

For people saying that airport security is wholly theatre and that it doesn't do any good- certainly it seems they've gone overboard on certain things, but what is your explanation as to why hijackings and terrorist attacks involving planes are MUCH less common than they used to be?

Sorry that this is mostly off the dome, and has less references than I would like. We argued this stuff to death in the aughts, though ultimately the political incentives in favor of security theater were just too great. Everyone is terrified of the potential backlash of not being seen to do enough in advance of the next big terrorist attack, I guess. And to be clear, we are talking mostly about post-9/11 airport security measures as being security theater. Some degree of airport security has been necessary since people started getting on airplanes with guns and informing the pilot that, hey, guess what, we're going to Cuba instead of Miami today.

But the big reduction in airplane hijackings came with the institution of metal detectors to keep guns off airplanes after a couple high-profile hijackings in the 1970s. But remember that these incidents were of a very different character than what we now think of as the risk to airplanes: they were certainly a problem, but the modus operandi of hijackers in this era was to force the plane to fly to a non-extradition country and land safely. 9/11-style hijackings, that used the plane as a bomb and killed everyone aboard, were on nobody's radar--when the goal was blowing up the plane and killing passengers, bombers generally used bombs planted in checked baggage, which requires different security measures from passenger screening.

Two security changes occurred after 9/11 that made future such hijackings basically impossible: one, probably most importantly, was that passengers understood they no longer could count on hijackers having an interest in surviving the hijacking. This change in passenger behavior was immediate: later that same year when a guy tried to bomb an airplane (using a really ineffective device hidden in his shoe) passengers immediately acted to restrain him. The second important change was reinforcing cockpit doors and keeping them locked: this makes hijacking airplanes with knives (the only major modality left to most would-be hijackers) functionally impossible.

All the other intense passenger screening and security measures implemented after 9/11 has been repeatedly shown by security researchers to be pretty ineffective, not even very reliable at stuff like keeping knives off airplanes. For years after 9/11 there were endless news stories about law enforcement running drills at airports and weapons making their way through security. A lot of later security measures, like liquid limits in carry-on baggage, came from terrorist plots that didn't even make it off the drawing board (and are unlikely to have ever worked anyway), and seem mostly to be overzealous ass-covering by transportation security officials.

And, finally, we should note that the real security threats to airplanes in the post-9/11 era seem to have come come from two sources that are basically impossible to protect against using traditional security methods, and for which passenger-based security screening is useless: anti-aircraft missiles and suicidal pilots (plus an honorable mention to aircraft companies trying to skirt certain regulatory requirements).

Despite what decades of American media would have you believe, elaborate plots targeting transportation infrastructure and involving like a dozen people are actually not at the top of the list of terrorist methodologies--why time and money training members of your organization to fly planes into buildings, when you can just use social media to convince a guy to drive a car into a crowd of bystanders, or stab somebody on the street? It's much cheaper, and much, much harder to guard against. Random lone-wolf terrorism is, unlike the kind of elaborate plots portrayed on TV, and one-off real-life examples like 9/11, basically impossible for security services to guard against in advance. But in order to justify the war on terror, and large budgets for security services on anti-terrorism grounds, it was necessary to play up the threat of such plots, even if by its very nature 9/11 was impossible to repeat. For similar reasons, the post-9/11 era also played up the threat of Islamic extremism and large overseas terrorist networks, even though far-right extremists acting in small groups also have managed to kill huge numbers of people in spectacular ways.

So for all these reasons, and those noted at the top, the political incentives around transportation security means that passenger screening measures in airports are almost guaranteed to be a one-way ratchet, even if they don't work. It's a bit like the fabled anti-tiger amulet--it's easy to say the lack of tigers is proof it's working! Even if the real reason there are no tigers about is that you live in Ohio. The media environment post-War on Terror helped create a public appetite for and approval of such anti-tiger amulets, too, of course. This was not by any means a purely top-down phenomenon.

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which john b & jj flirt with barracuda mike’s daughter in order to make it on the cargo plane to south america..

john b and jj had a mission. they needed to make it to south america to save john b’s beloved father — and maybe come back with $400mill in gold. and they needed to do it, ‘like, yesterday’, in john b’s words. they had gone through every possible option, but being pogues in a world where flying and buying a boat are too expensive for their own good, they decide to associate themselves with the rowdy gang of rockfish boathouse.

jj’s father worked for a man named barracuda mike. he was sketchy, to say the least. but, if the boys charmed him enough, they had a chance to make it on the plane filled with contrabands that was going exactly where they presumed john b’s father was.

but it wasn’t barracuda mike they needed to charm. it was you, the mans daughter who was taking her father’s place for the day while he did his ‘work’ — whatever that means.

so, jj and john b walk into the boathouse, one a bit more reluctant than the other. they pause for a second, not spotting the man they were looking for. they’re two obvious outliers in this ratty place — scratching their heads confused, standing right in the way of everything that’s happening. you notice them instantly, just like everyone else. but like your father, you’re not as timid or careless as everyone else.

“um, excuse me, do you need something?” you call out to the boys from the area where people are cutting fish.

the two boys just stare for a bit. you, a beautiful girl who does not look fit to be in this enviornment, asking if they need help? john b elbows jj a few times, as if to say ‘are you seeing her?’. jj elbows him back.

“hey. let me do the talking, mkay? chick’s probably sketchy as fuck,”

john b scoffs, then mutters as they walk over, “oh yeah, her ‘n the ribbons in her hair are so sketchy,”

jj struts up to you, putting on his most charming smile. “hey, sweets,” he starts. slick. “uh, we’re looking for a guy, goes by barracuda mike—“

“my father?” you interrupt. jj can’t stop the way his jaw goes slack. you, barracuda mike’s daughter? nonsense! “whaddya need him for?”

john b tries to turn his gasp into coughs. “holy shit. didn’t know that guy had a daughter,” john b chuckles nervously. where the hell is he supposed to go from here? no way you can get them to south america.

“pretty one, too,” jj adds. oh, so that’s his master plan now. get in your pants to get to south america.

john b instantly plays along. nothing to lose, right? “yeah, stunning,”

you giggle, playing with the knife in your hand that john b and jj only seem to notice now. probably just to chop fish, sure, but with barracuda mike as your father, who knows? “well thank you, boys,” you speak. “what are your names?”

“jj maybank,” jj replies. “uh, my dad used to work for your dad.”

you stare up at him — almost unsettling, as you figure out why you recognize him. there’s an uncomfortable silence, broken only by your realization. “oh!” you say suddenly, lifting the knife in the air as you figure out who he is. john b startles at the sudden knife movement. “you’re luke’s son, yeah? ‘n you were in the news. lost on some island or something?”

“yeah, man, i sure was. s’crazy, had to really toughen up to survive there for a month,” he flexes. it’s almost embarassing, but you find his showing off endearing. “livin’ off uh, fish and cocnuts only,” he shrugs. “no biggie.”

“i was there too,” john b adds. “there after i hijacked a boat and almost got killed. came out unscratched, though,”

oh, they’re adorable. “wow, you two are tough, huh?” you ask.

“mhm, guess you could put it like that,” jj plays nonchalant. “anyway, uh, lemme tell you the truth. we came here to see if we could hitch a ride with your dad to south america,”

“he sold the travel agency,”

jj blinks. “..oh. well, uh, we could still hitch a ride with him and his next load, yeah?”

“..i dunno,” you hesitate. “why’re you wanting to go down there, anyway?”

“look,” john b starts. “my dad was held hostage down there, and we’re worried he’s gonna get killed. we just wanna help him,”

“what do i get in return?” you ask. “i don’t wanna do this for like, free or anything. dunno if i’m even allowed,”

jj smiles. “well shit, uh, i could think of some things—“

“i’m not talking about getting laid, jj,” you interrupt. “hey. how about you just take over my usual job? i take this sketchy-ass fan filled with weed to the plane. you could do that instead, my dad appreciates getting stuff in return. you help him, you get onto the plane,”

“yeah. that works—“ jj starts, holding out his hand to shake on it. john b slaps his hand away.

“no fuckin’ way. im already wanted for like, 7 things, not adding another,”

“i’ve never gotten caught, if that helps ease you,” you chime in.

“that’s ‘cause you’re pretty. police don’t arrest pretty people.”

“mkay, well you’re pretty too, so..”

that’s enough for him to melt into a puddle and agree with you. he nods his head. jj takes your dainty hand and shakes it, giving the back of it a quick kiss before letting go.

“‘ppreciate you,” he says, fake saluting before starting to walk away. “and hey, rethink my offer,” he adds, and you smile. you totally would.

“see you around,” john b says, awkwardly following jj.

they both leave the bar. you instantly huff and deflate, cursing yourself for listening to them. they totally just charmed you and then left you in their dust. typical pogue behaviour.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Let's go back to the beginning, when you meet Miguel for the very first time.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of loss.

A/N: Hello!! I'm sorry for the unexpected hiatus, but I'm back with the much requested first meeting for the couple in 'What's In Between' (read it here! and read part 2 here!) Enjoy :3

Alright people, let’s do this one last time.

You were bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last 2 years, you were your world’s one and only Spider-Woman.

Your job took you around the entire world, not limited only to your hometown (even if that one time you went to Paris was by hanging on for dear life on a hijacked plane), and while it was difficult, saving people was the reason why you did what you did.

It’s what led you to this predicament now.

“Oh c’mon Vulture! You gotta stop doing this, we’re practically best buds by now, aren’t we? So why don’t you just relax, let me take you to prison and we can call it a day, yeah?” you say as you swing from wall to wall.

“Get out of my WAY!” he shouts, flying around as he evades your attacks.

“Don’t be like that,” you snicker, leaping out of the path of a bomb he threw at you. “Alright, hear me out. If you stop destroying the place, quit the whole villain gig, and I’ll get out of your hair. Deal?”

He completely ignores you, continuing to fly higher and higher until he hovers around the highest point of the ceiling.

“Not much of an exit you can take there, bud!” you shout up at him before glancing around at something you could use to take him down. But before you know it, he’s nosediving straight down.

Straight into you.

Desperately you try to shoot out your webs to escape, but he extends his wings, expanding the area of impact and leaving you with nowhere to run.

He smacks you out of the air, and you’re hurling toward the ground as the wind is knocked from your lungs at the collision.

Right before you can hit the concrete floor, fluorescent red webbing emerges from a bizarre sort of glitching portal effectively saving you from the fall.

But then you’re flung back into the air with a yelp as the man uses your form to propel himself out and toward Vulture.

“WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!” you shout as you fly before slinging yourself to the nearby wall.

“I just saved you,” he says bluntly before promptly ignoring you again. You shoot him an incredulous look before rolling your eyes. Yes, you were grateful but this guy already seemed like a major asshole.

Shooting out your webs, you swing up to meet your ‘saviour’.

“So who are you, mystery man?” you ask.

“Do we really need to do this right now?” he glances at you before slinging further away, trying to grab ahold of Vulture.

“It’s just common courtesy!” you shout up at him.

“That’s classified.”

“YOU’RE classified!” you say back, and he only blinks at you for a moment. You knew it was childish, but this guy was very quickly getting on your nerves. Let’s be honest here, its not every day that some random man comes flying out of some portal straight into a fight.

Especially someone who was just like you.

You didn’t think it was possible that there even could be anyone else like you. While heroes were common in your world, no one had powers like yours. Telekinesis? Check. Super-speed? Double check. The list goes on, but someone with web-slinging, spider-like powers? As far as you knew, you were the only one.

Until now.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say,” he says, his webs wrapping around Vulture’s wings. Quickly you wrap your own webs around him, effectively hindering his movement and any means of escape.

“Surprised you hear anyone say anything, your social skills are atrocious,” you retort.

“My social skills are just fine, thank you,” he shoots back before sirens can be heard rounding up around the building.

“Alright, that’s my cue to escape. Bye, weird stranger!” you say, and with a single swing you disappear into the city.

“WAIT!” he calls out, but you were already gone.

~

You sat up on a rooftop, the lights of your city at night creating your favourite view. While you had to admit it had its issues, it was still beautiful. It was home. Your mask sat on the ground by your side, a tiny glimpse of your true self behind the hero persona.

“You’re impossible to find, you know,” a voice interrupts, footsteps barely audible behind you. But you had heard him coming from a mile away, or felt him was a better term to use, with you Spidey-sense and all.

“Usually the whole point of disappearing is because you don’t want to be found,” you say with a shrug, turning around to look at him. “What do you want, stranger? I have a city to take care of.”

While he would have never admitted it then, you truly looked beautiful with the glow of the city lighting up your form. Stranger or not, he thought you were beautiful from the start.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara, and as I assume you’ve figured already, I’m not from this world.” He introduces.

“I had a feeling you weren’t from around here. Considering the fact that you were trying to find me, it’d be safe to assume you already know who I am?” you ask.

“I do. I’m aware of all those with unique spider abilities in each universe,” he responds.

“So what are you doing here, Miguel O'Hara? Or better yet, what do you want from me,” you ask, standing up to meet him at his level (though he stood much taller than you, but it was worth an effort).

“I wanted to recruit you to Spider Society,” he says. “To become a protector of the multiverse, and the canon events that follow everyone destined to live the lives that we do.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes, and you look him up and down.

“If you knew about me, you would know that I don’t work with others,” you say, your eyes darkening for a moment. “It’s too much of a liability.”

You used to have a partner in crime, in the early days of your life as Spider-Woman. He was your best friend and…well, you know the rest. You never worked with anyone again, at least not extensively. You told yourself it was so that no one else could get hurt because of you. But selfishly, it was because you couldn’t bear the hurt of losing someone dear to you again.

Miguel’s mask disappears from his face, and you’re met with an expression of understanding.

“I probably know better than anyone the pain of loss that comes with this job. But what if I told you it was for a reason? That the loss we go through? That it wasn’t for nothing, it wasn’t just a ‘fuck you’ from the universe to make us suffer. It’s so that we could become who we are,” he says, and you can’t help but hesitate for a moment.

“I would tell you that it’s bullshit. I’m not one for the whole ‘fate’ sort of thing. Life is what you make of it, you have the power to change the course of your life, it’s not just some sort of higher power dictating every event of your life. I am who I am because I chose this life, and not because I was fated to be here.”

He sighs as he looks at you for a moment.

“I knew this would be harder than I thought,” he says, and you only shrug.

“Let me show you something. Lyla?” he says, and a hologram pops up.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Do the thing,” he says, and she sends him a confused look. “What thing?”

“The multiverse explainy thing, what? How many times have we done this?” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you can’t help the small laugh that sneaks out. Lyla sends you a wink in turn.

“Look dude, I’m just an AI, you gotta tell me what I need to be doing, I don’t have mind-reading capabilities yet,” she says, but quickly the city disappears from view, replaced with a complex interconnected web.

“This is the multiverse, are you aware of it?” Miguel asks.

“The theory that beyond the scope of our view are unobservable parallel universes that exist simultaneously, right?”

“Correct. Well, that theory is proven to be true as I’m from an alternate universe. Specifically, the one that holds Earth-928 where I exist as Spiderman 2099. You are from Earth-1550 where you exist as your world’s Spider-Woman,” he explains.

“How do I know I can trust you and your word?” you ask, and he deadpans. “You and I both know that you sensed I was not from this universe the moment I walked through that portal,” he says, and you only grin.

“Never hurts to ask, right?” you say, and he scoffs.

“Anyway, to continue. Each one of these nodes is a separate universe,” he points them out as he walks through the web. “And these,” he says, gesturing to the larger portions that each node connects to at some point, “are canon events. The parallel events that happen to every single Spider individual in every single universe.”

You look around at these so-called ‘canon events’, and every one takes you back to the moment you lived through them yourself.

The bite. The exploration of your newfound abilities.

…the loss of your best friend.

“They’re sometimes good, they’re sometimes bad, and sometimes they’re terrible. But each event is part of every spider’s life, and it makes us who we are whether we like it or not. I’ve observed and studied this for years, and the theory remains true in every new world I look at.”

“Okay…so my point is disproven, duly noted. But this whole ‘protector of the multiverse’ gig, what’s up with that?” you ask, still not understanding why he wanted you.

“The thing with canon events is that they must proceed, for the sake of a universe. The whole idea of ‘changing your fate’ through a series of actions was always going to happen whether you realize it or not. But with the emergence of more complex technology comes the capacity to multiverse jump, like in my case here,” he explains, and you take a moment to process his words.

“Alright, continue,” you say.

“These individuals are not part of that universe, and are in turn a new variable in the universe’s series of events that are supposed to occur. Disruption of these events can and will cause that universe to fall apart because they were never supposed to be there in the first place. My job is to ensure that no canon events are disrupted, in turn protecting that world, and the multiverse.”

“Okay wait, wait. I don’t get it, you’re saying that interference can cause a universe to just up and disappear? Just like that? I find it hard to believe,” you say, your suspicion growing.

“What do you not understand? Each minute decision made has a rippling effect. Disregard enough of what’s supposed to happen in one world and it destroys itself from the inside out,” he says, his frustration quickly growing evident (man, this guy has a temper!)

“I just don’t understand how one decision someone makes could destroy an entire universe, and you’re not really giving me much to go off of besides your word. I’m not one to blindly follow someone because they tell me to.”

“You want proof? Alright, I’ll show you proof,” he says, and all at once, the web disappears and is replaced by rippling holograms, transforming it into a whole new world.

A world that was falling apart at the seams.

All around you people are screaming as the buildings vanish without a trace, leaving not even dust behind. And one by one they too disappear.

Then, you see a familiar face. Miguel is running, and in his arms is a little girl no older than 9 clinging to him like he was her lifeline.

All she can utter is ‘Daddy’ before she too disappears, leaving Miguel behind with a devastated look on his face.

You can’t help but take a step back, a hand covering your mouth at something that looked like it only happened in movies.

Before you know it, there’s nothing left of the world. From behind his hologrammed form Miguel emerges, looking around at what was left behind of his former world.

Nothing.

“The reason I know it will happen…is because I was the cause of the destruction of a world myself. I found a universe where I had the life I always wanted. The canon event that happened was that the Miguel in that world was supposed to die, leaving Gabriella alone. But instead, I made the decision to replace him, living the life that I was never supposed to have.”

“For a while…I was happy. But little by little the world was collapsing at the seams because I was never supposed to be there. I disrupted the course of events, and it caused everything to fall apart while I could do nothing but watch,” he says, his eyes distant.

“Do you understand now, why what I do is so important?” he asks, his hardened voice now soft as he tries to conceal the hurt.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” you whisper, and that’s all you can say because you don’t know what else you could say.

He glances back up at you, his red eyes glassy for a moment but he blinks it away before you notice.

“So, will you join?” he asks, holding out a single watch expectantly.

“Okay,” you say, finally relenting.

Maybe this was the start of something new.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia032, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin @theprettyarachnid

A/N: Real talk, I wasn't sure I was even going to post this today because I went dirtbiking for the first time yesterday and fell about a million times, and my legs are bruised to the hells because I don't know how to jump out of the way hgfjkghfdgjhkd. But here we are! Thank you for reading (and I'm sorry its not my usual fluff for this story, but this is how I imagined they met lolol)

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hellooo! I stumbled upon your writing on request & it was so good and you deliver it perfectly. So here am I requesting a ff from you. Its about reader/OC where she also an avenger. Bucky is in relationship with her. Most of their mission were almost together & for this one they were separated. It wasn’t unusual but this time Bucky seems more agitated. This cause them to have arguments. Before they could resolve it she was sent to the mission earlier than dated. Bucky regret what he said to her & try to find her to apologise but what he gets was an upsetting news. Her plane had been hijacked. I need angst but with happy ending please. Yearning is good to add too. Thank you so much and sorry if my request was too much. 🤍🩵🤍🩵💗

Hijacked

Warnings: mentions of violence.

Bucky leaned against the sleek counter in the Avengers Tower communal kitchen, nursing his fifth cup of coffee of the day.

The bitter liquid did nothing to ease the churn of unease in his stomach. Y/N had left the room hours ago after their latest argument, the tension still heavy in the air. He hated when they fought, hated the way her voice wavered when she’d told him he was overreacting, and especially hated the way she’d walked away before he could figure out how to apologize.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be sent on separate missions. As one of the most capable field agents on the team, Y/N often worked independently or alongside Natasha, while Bucky found himself paired with Steve or Sam. They always managed, always found their way back to each other. This time, though, something was different. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry gnawing at the edges of his mind, the sense that something was off.

"You're being ridiculous," Y/N had said earlier, her tone sharp but her eyes soft. "I can handle myself, Bucky. You know that."

"I know you can," he’d snapped back, running a hand through his hair. "But that doesn't mean I have to like the idea of you being out there alone. Especially now."

“Now?” she’d echoed, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I—” He’d faltered, his frustration overriding his ability to articulate the fear gripping his chest. "I just think we should’ve had more time to prepare. It’s not like they couldn’t have waited a day or two."

She’d sighed then, exasperated. “This is what we do. It’s not always perfect timing.”

And then she’d walked out.

The sound of a nearby chair scraping against the floor jolted Bucky from his thoughts. Sam plopped down across from him, tossing a protein bar onto the counter.

“You look like you’ve been brooding for hours,” Sam remarked, unwrapping the bar. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s mission got moved up,” Bucky muttered, staring into his coffee. “We argued before she left.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And she’s already gone,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t get to apologize.”

Sam chewed thoughtfully. “She’ll be fine, man. Y/N’s a badass. But you should probably work on this whole ‘bottle-up-your-emotions-until-they-explode’ thing. It’s not a great look.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his mind too tangled with guilt and worry. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N walking onto the Quinjet, her back rigid and her expression unreadable. He should’ve stopped her. He should’ve said something—anything.

Hours turned into a restless night. Bucky paced his room, glancing at his phone every few minutes, waiting for some kind of update. When the call finally came, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Barnes,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line, urgent and grim. “Y/N’s plane has been hijacked.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Bucky gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.

“What do you mean, hijacked?” he demanded, his voice barely steady.

“En route to the mission,” Steve explained. “The plane went off course. We lost contact about an hour ago.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. An hour. Anything could have happened in that time. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last.

“I’m going after her,” he said immediately, already moving to grab his gear.

“Bucky—” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off.

“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” he growled. “You’d do the same if it were me.”

Steve sighed. “Just… be careful.”

Bucky barely registered Steve’s next words as he ended the call, his mind already racing. His stomach churned with a potent mix of dread and determination as he grabbed his gear, slinging his tactical bag over his shoulder. He could feel the weight of Steve's gaze as he passed him in the hallway.

“She’ll be okay, Buck,” Steve said softly, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his own worry. “Y/N’s one of the best.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, but the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. She was the best—that’s what scared him. He knew exactly what kind of danger someone like her would attract. And now she was out there, in the hands of God-knows-who, and the last words he’d said to her were drenched in frustration instead of love.

“Don’t wait up,” Bucky muttered before walking out, leaving Steve in the hallway.

Down in the briefing room, Sam was already poring over satellite data, his brow furrowed in concentration. Natasha stood next to him, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the map projected on the wall.

“Tell me you’ve got something,” Bucky said, his voice taut.

“We’re working on it,” Sam replied, glancing up. “Last known coordinates put her plane about here.” He pointed to a dense patch of forest on the map, far from any major cities or settlements. “But that’s where it went dark. No signals since.”

“What kind of hijackers force a plane down in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky muttered, more to himself than to them.

Natasha gave him a pointed look. “The kind who want privacy. Whoever they are, they knew what they were doing.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Then we don’t have time to waste. How do we get there?”

“I’ve got a Quinjet ready,” Natasha said, already moving toward the hangar. “Sam’s coming with me to cover the air. You?”

“I’m going on the ground,” Bucky said without hesitation. “I need to find her.”

Natasha didn’t argue, though her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid. She’ll need you in one piece.”

Bucky followed them to the hangar, his movements automatic as he loaded up on weapons and gear. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind replaying images of Y/N’s face, the sound of her voice when they’d argued.

“I’ll take the north quadrant,” Sam said as they boarded the Quinjet. “You can have the east. We’ll scan for heat signatures and anything out of the ordinary. Natasha’s running point.”

Bucky nodded absently, his focus already miles ahead of them, in that forest where Y/N was waiting.

As the Quinjet took off, the hum of the engines did little to soothe his nerves. Natasha’s voice crackled through the comms, giving updates on their trajectory, but Bucky barely listened. His gaze was fixed out the window, the cityscape below giving way to sprawling green wilderness.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You good?”

“No,” Bucky admitted, his voice low. “But I will be when I find her.”

Sam studied him for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll get her back. You know that, right?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He couldn’t let himself think about any other possibility.

The Quinjet began to descend, the dense forest rising up to meet them. Natasha’s voice came through the comms again.

“We’re close to the coordinates. There’s a clearing about half a mile east where we can set down. From there, it’s on foot.”

Bucky was already moving toward the hatch, his gear secured and his mind focused. As soon as the Quinjet touched down, he was out, the cool forest air hitting him like a slap.

Sam and Natasha followed, the three of them standing in the shadow of the towering trees.

“Keep in contact,” Natasha said, her voice brisk. “If you find anything, call it in.”

Bucky gave a curt nod before heading east, his steps quick and purposeful. The forest was dense, the underbrush tangling around his boots and the canopy overhead blocking out most of the light. His enhanced senses sharpened, every sound and movement setting him on edge.

“Come on, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the trees. “Give me something.”

The faint smell of smoke caught his attention first, acrid and metallic. He moved toward it, his heart pounding. As he pushed through the underbrush, the wreckage came into view.

The plane was mangled, its nose buried in the dirt and its wings twisted at unnatural angles. Smoke still curled from the fuselage, the acrid scent stinging his nose. Bucky’s breath caught as he took in the scene, his eyes darting over the wreckage for any sign of movement.

“Nat, I’ve found the plane,” he said into his comm, his voice tight.

“Any sign of Y/N?” Natasha’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Not yet,” he said, moving closer. “But I’m not leaving until I do.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he approached the site, the wreckage stark against the green backdrop. Smoke curled into the air, and the unmistakable scent of burnt metal lingered. He moved silently, his enhanced senses on high alert.

“Come on, Doll,” he murmured under his breath, scanning the area. “Where are you?”

The first sign of life came in the form of muffled voices. Bucky crept closer, his body tensed for a fight. He spotted a group of armed men near the wreckage, their attention focused on something—or someone.

Y/N.

She was on her knees, her hands bound but her gaze defiant. A trickle of blood ran down her temple, but she didn’t look broken. If anything, she looked furious.

Bucky’s chest swelled with both pride and anger. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. One wrong move could put her in more danger. He had to be smart about this.

The fight was over in minutes. Bucky moved like a shadow, taking out the guards one by one. By the time the last man hit the ground, Y/N was already working to free herself.

“Bucky,” she breathed, relief and frustration mingling in her voice.

He was at her side in an instant, his metal hand snapping her restraints like they were nothing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice wavered. “But what the hell are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing,” he admitted, his hands hovering over her, unsure where to touch. “I had to make sure you were safe.”

Her expression softened, the anger melting away. “You idiot,” she murmured, throwing her arms around him.

Bucky held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For what I said. For not stopping you. For everything.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you were just worried.”

“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice raw. “Not now. Not ever.”

“You won’t,” she promised, her hand cupping his cheek. “I’m right here.”

They made their way back to the Quinjet, leaning on each other for support. Bucky couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, as if reassuring himself that she was really there.

Back at the tower, the rest of the team welcomed them with relieved smiles and teasing remarks. But Bucky didn’t let Y/N out of his sight, his hand always brushing against hers, his presence a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone.

Later, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m never letting you go on a mission alone again,” he murmured.

Y/N chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “We’ll see about that.”

For now, though, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, hun! 🫶

[halfmoth-halfman]

a smaller part of my thoughts on the mw3 campaign that i think is important enough to need its own post:

(there are spoilers below)

i've seen many cod creators on here talking about the situation going on in the middle east right now, and a lot of posts condemning the ethnic cleansing and genocide happening in palestine. i think it's great, especially coming from a fandom based on games that are first and foremost military propaganda. what i don't think is great is that soap's death seems to be taking priority over the blatant terrorist storyline that happens with samara and the changing of the no russian mission.

a middle eastern woman - the second one to get a shocking, and brutal death (more brutal than soap's, might i add) - is taken hostage by a group and forcibly made to hijack a plane. she is forced to wear a bomb strapped to her chest and dragged to the back of the plane where more civilians are. when she tries to fight back we get this exchange:

hijacker: are you a terrorist?

samara: no!

hijacker: you look like one.

she is then handed a gun, shoved into a crowd, and we are forced to watch her struggle to get a phone against a crowd of people who think she is a terrorist before the plane blows up.

i see a lot of people in the fandom saying to reject canon as a way to cope, which i fully understand - canon is really really stupid sometimes. however, i'm also seeing a lot of people saying to pretend this campaign just doesn't exist, and i take a lot of issue with that.

this fandom, in particular, does not get to do that. you can be upset with soap's death, the thrown together storyline, the half-baked combat, whatever else you don't like about the game, but we do not get to ignore the purposeful mistreatment of a middle eastern character while also being vocal about palestine. we do not get to ignore that activision chose to change this mission from makarov shooting up an airport, to forcing a middle eastern character to blow up a plane while he escapes. we do not get to ignore that the cod games are military propaganda, and that just because we may enjoy playing or watching these games, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be looking at these games, their storylines, and their characters critically.

i need people to understand that it is an immense privilege to be able to turn them off and "ignore the campaign" while casually reblogging the occasional post about palestine. you are allowed to enjoy these games, and you are allowed to be angry and hurt over soap's death. these games are allowed to be a form of escapism for you, but i am begging you all to think more critically about the choices activision is making here, and understand that escapism doesn't mean you can disregard and ignore those choices.

and i think a lot of people, those who post about palestine in particular, should think about why this fandom is placing more importance on a white character's death than the blatant and egregious islamophobia and military propaganda.

[shadowcanine]

a deep dive into the cokeville bombing (otherwise known as the cokeville miracle)

this post is for research and educational purposes only. more below the cut.

On May 16th, 1986, in the small and rural town of Cokeville, Wyoming, a couple, David and Doris Young, entered Cokeville Elementary School. They were equipped with firearms, as well as a large bomb. Information about this event is highly controlled and filtered by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but if you look hard enough for something, you’ll find it.

David, anti-government rambler, and Doris, a former cocktail waitress, held 136 students, as well as 18 adults, hostage in the confines of a singular room- the bomb was in the room with them. Their plan was to blow the school to smithereens, killing everybody (including themselves) inside. The plan was not successful- if it had been, it would have been the worst school massacre in the history of the United States; second to none.

“So who the hell is David?”

David Young was described as “too intelligent for his own good” with many of his writings often consisting of anti-government ramblings and a feeling of an impending sense of doom, among other things. Despite David’s alleged intelligence, many have stated he had little to no common sense. He’s described as having viewed those around him to be intellectually inferior, and he struggled with maintaining any relationship that wasn’t surface level.

Ron Hartley, the Lincoln County Sherrif’s Office lead investigator, has gone on the record to say the following regarding David:

“He would just talk way over their heads or talk about things that did not make sense to your average person.”

David’s first wife has said he was a “non-drinker” who claimed to be “agnostic.” She also described him as being “gun crazy.” David was known for always having countless firearms around. He also kept many journals nearby, he recorded quite trivial things, such as what he ate in a day and when. In total, 43 diaries were left behind ranging in location from his van, to his hotel room. Several manifestos were also composed, mainly talking about his “Brave New World” (or BNW) philosophies.

David wrote of hijacking a plane, and FBI behavioral analysts concluded he had “no real plans of ever having a career in anything.”

It’s important to note that David had a child, named Princess. Keep that in mind.

“Okay, so what happened?”

May 15th, 1986. Davis gathers his “team” (consisting of his wife, Doris, his daughter, Princess, and two investors. One investor was his cousin, Gerald Deppe, the other was his hunting buddy, Doyle Mendenhall) at a nearby hotel in Montpelier, Idaho.

Princess recounts the bathtub being full of “weird stuff” including, but not limited to; flour, tuna cans, string, and clothespins. David turns to Princess and tells her that “if she wants to be apart of The Biggie (David’s codename for the bombing, which the team originally believed was a get-rich-quick scheme) she would have to sleep with him.” Princess told him fathers don’t do that with their daughters. David spent the rest of the night watching Princess- as if he was afraid she was going to run.

May 16th, 1986. After deciding on Cokeville, Wyoming, David sits on a hill with binoculars- he’s surveying Cokeville elementary. He picked Cokeville due to it’s low law enforcement presence, and it’s allegedly “extremely bright students.”

Once all the students were confirmed to be inside the school, David drops the truth about “The Biggie” to his team. His wife, daughter, and investors are horrified.

“We were all like mouths dropped open. Like, what the hell is going on right now? All of us did not want anything to do with it. Even [my stepmom.] [doris]”

David handcuffed the investors, his cousin and friend, to the inside of the van. After around 15 minutes of coercion, he gets Doris to agree to come along. Princess was coerced into wheeling the bomb into the school, as well as carrying some guns.

When Young arrived at the school, he’s reported having told staff “this is a revolution. I’m taking the school hostage.”

Princess did not want to be apart of this. In an interview, she states:

“I saw all these little children’s faces running back and forth in a hallway. And I’m like ‘how can I grab these children? How can I save them?’ but of course, I was trembling so bad and I dropped a couple guns.”

Teachers at Cokeville recounted Princess begin to cry, then scream at her father. She couldn’t believe he was going to go through with this.

David didn’t get angry, but he did toss the keys of the van to Princess and state:

“You’ve been a good kid, but you’re no daughter of mine.”

She almost wrecked the van leaving the parking lot.

1PM Princess bursts into Town Hall. She screams that she needed help, but nobody was listening to her.

Princess then shouted “you stupid fucking people! What in the hell is the matter with you? Don’t you give a fuck about your kids? My father’s over there and he’s going to blow them all up!”

The firefighters at the Town Hall, rather than helping, berated her for her use of foul language, and stated something to the effect of “this isn’t Chicago. This is Cokeville, things like that don’t happen here.”

Princess led the firefighters to the van- where the investors were still handcuffed inside.

“He’s got enough explosives in there to blow the whole school up, if it goes off, it’s gone. He’s planned this for a long time and it will be gone.”

The dispatcher at the scene, Davison, asked for clarification. When Princess told her, Davison tried to call anybody she could- but the sherrif was out of town. The town marshal was out of town, and Hartley, the one who would later interview Princess, was returning from Utah. She would eventually reach the Uinta County sherriff, but even they wouldn’t believe one of their own. It took awhile for them to actually send any law enforcement to Cokeville.

The SWAT team, as well as a bomb squad, were now mobilized from Jackson- as well as any vehicle equipped with a siren. Cokeville is a small town, and so every school aged kid in the community was currently inside of the school, being held at gunpoint.

One of the bomb’s plastic jugs had a hole in it, causing it to leak gas. The gas was making kids ill, and the teachers convinced David Young to let them open some windows. It would later be discovered that, had the windows stayed shut, there’s a high chance nobody would have made it out of Cokeville Elementary alive. The entire front of the building would have been blown off.

There were several rifles propped against the blackboard in the classroom- those were “for the teachers” according to David. For kids, a .22 pistol. There was also a .45 Colt revolver in David’s other hand.

Young began to hand out leaflets explaining his ideology to the children, but it was incomprehensible to them. The children, according to fourth-grade teacher Kliss Sparks, knew they were in danger much faster than she did.

David Young believed that after the explosion, everybody would be killed. David, however, would be transported to an island with the children- he claimed he would be their leader in the new life.

A ransom of $2m per child was demanded, with David insisting he did not want to have to hurt them, as they were apart of his “BNW”

For two hours, children at Cokeville Elementary colored, sang, and prayed. David was growing more agitated by the minute- sweating profusely. (It was later learned David was a diabetic, and could have been having a reaction.)

In Wyoming, everybody has guns- and so, when people found out their children- or grandchildren were being held hostage, an armed militia soon formed outside of the school. David was not coming out of that school alive- if he managed to, he’d have been shot by every father in Cokeville.

David had a “dead man’s bomb” - If David were to be killed or taken, the bomb would detonate.

Multiple parents had to be talked out of storming the school by the police.

Princess encouraged the police to kill David, if they could.

“He was the dad that raised me, but at this point, you gotta save the other people.”

“So, what happened?”

Well, David’s bomb failed miserably. For the type of bomb he made to have worked, the bottom of the containers would have had to have been dry- but as stated previously, gasoline was leaking. When the bomb was ignited, instead of the fine powders being shot through their air- and then ignited by the gas bottle, only mud came out. If the gasoline wouldn’t have leaked, the bomb would have been successful, and Cokeville very well may have been one of the worst school incidents’ in the history of the United States.

Wires on the bombs were mysteriously severed, and bomb squad couldn’t figure out why.

Two and a half hours into the standoff, David wrapped the Dead Man’s Switch around Doris’ wrist. (In this case, the switch was actually a shoelace- it was attached to a clothespin that kept the positive and negative terminals apart- if they were to touch, it’d be ignited.)

Jean Mitchell, a teacher at the school, had a headache. While talking to Doris, she put her hands on her head and said “I’ve got a headache.”

“Me, too,” said Doris, who put her hands on her head aswell. When she did this, the Dead Man’s Switch was pulled, and the bomb was ignited.

Thick, black smoke filled the room, as well as intense heat- but Doris wasn’t dead. She was on fire, stumbling around the room and begging for help. David returns to the 24x24 music room that the school was being held captive in, and fires the .22 at music teacher John Miller. He was hit in the back, but survived- and has since made a full recovery. Had he been shot with the .45, he would have died.

David then took a shot at Doris, attempting to put her out of her misery- his first shot missed, his second shot hit. Doris is dead. After killing his wife, David flees to the bathroom, where he places the .45 under his chin, and ends his own life.

“So was it over?”

No, we aren’t even at the good part yet.

After the bomb had detonated, and both perpetrators were dead, children began running out of the school.

“Children started flying out those windows and running. They cleared the fences in one leap,” said Walker. For the children that recognized her, they began screaming for her help. “Mrs. Walker, help me! Mrs. Walker, I’m on fire!”

She attempted to console one boy, who pulled out of her arms to look for his grandmother- he was afraid David would come look for them.

Firemen were in the school throwing the children out of the window- as soon as the kids hit the ground, they would take off running- they were covered in soot, some badly burned, but all alive.

Many kids ran straight home. It was later discovered that David told them if they got out, people were waiting to shoot them. They didn’t catch most of the kids before they ran home.

The heat of the fire set off David’s ammunition- the walls were found pierced with bulletholes, but not a single child was hit by a bullet.

One girl, Jamie Buckley King, a third grader at Cokeville Elementary, grew up poor. She made no attempt to escape, thinking she was already in the New World. She only realized she wasn’t dead when she felt somebody pick her up by the shirt and throw her out of the school. She ran to her dad, and then began apologizing because she had left her shoes inside the class. She asked if he wanted her to return to get them.

Not a single Cokeville Elementary student or staff member died. The only deaths that day were David and Doris Young, the perpetrators. Some students and staff were injured, but were quickly taken to the hospital and treated.

“What’s up with the miracle part?”

Later, at least 10 separate children would report seeing angels that helped them through the ordeal.

• Travis Walker told his parents he had a very strong feeling he needed to be by the windows just before the bomb went off. He says a voice told him this.

• Travis had two sisters, who said: “We had a woman who stood by us, she wore little white slippers and we just knew she loved us.” Both girls described their grandmother, who was their mother’s mom, to a T. They had never met her- their grandmother died when their mother was just 15.

• Kids reportedly told police “the angels told us.”

“We didn’t lose one child. We didn’t lose one teacher. We didn’t lose anybody except the perpetrator who killed his wife and himself. There was a lot of intervention.”

Ron Hartley, the cop to interview Princess- did not believe in angels or religion. He didn’t believe anything he couldn’t touch or see. Ron had 4 kids in Cokeville Elementary that day- including his 6 year old son, Nathan. Nathan began showing symptoms of PTSD soon after the incident, as well as extreme nightmares.

Claudia, Ron’s wife, took Nathan to get a mental evaluation. Nathan allegedly told the examiner he “heard and saw angels” and when Claudia relayed this to Ron, he lost it. He hated anybody and everything that had to do with “mental evaluations of people and stuff like that” he was a self-admitted redneck.

Ron’s experience in the police force regarding children not being helped or listened to made him grow a disdain for shrinks.

When Ron returned home, he began to interrogate Nathan- he was going to prove to Nathan that he didn’t see any angels.

Nathan went on to describe his deceased grandmother, using the name of his alive grandmother- when Ron pulled out a photobook, Nathan pointed to his deceased grandmother, and said “that’s her.” Ron tried to correct him, pointing to the grandmother who was still alive (albeit in a nursing home), but Nathan insisted he was talking about the deceased one.

The deceased grandma was grandma Elliot, who Nathan had only met once when he was a year old before she passed. He had never seen a picture of her before.

According to Nathan, everybody had angels- even David and Doris, but David’s left him just before the bomb went off.

The bomb at Cokeville Elementary was supposed to explode outwards, like a grain explosion- it was supposed to radiate 360 degrees. But it didn’t. Instead, the bomb exploded straight up “like a fire bomb” and directly into the ceiling.

Nathan suffers from horrible memory loss regarding the incident now according to his father, and never once brought up the angels again.

(Side note- there was a teacher, Triplett, she was at Cokeville for a job interview. She can’t swear to it, but says she may have been comforted by Nathan. She was praying for a merciful end to her own life when she heard a little boy say “everything’s going to be okay.”)

# That’s all folks, thank you for reading! I genuinely think I have carpal tunnel now, but I wanted to make this post because I never see anybody talk about Cokeville- and in my opinion, it’s one of the most fascinating cases.

# There’s also been a movie released about Cokeville! After the release, the survivors, now adults, reached out to Princess- they gave her love and forgiveness, as this was the first time they understood her role in the situation since that day. The movie is pretty good, if any of you are bored and feel like watching it. It’s no Zero Day, but still. I hope you enjoyed c:

[yggdrasilhypno]

So I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.

Can you resist someone hijacking your brain?

I mean, seriously. Can you?

I’d hope and imagine so, it’s not that hard to resist someone.

All it takes is some mental fortitude and focus on something and it’s easy peasy.

After all, you’re resisting control now!

Come on, don’t tell me you have no idea what’s going on right now.

This is all a ploy to have your brain drop its walls with reverse psychology, you figured that out by now I’d think.

And if you didn’t, well that’s not entirely a bad thing.

You see, when it comes to covert and the ideals behind it, it’s one of those things where if you don’t already know the tricks of the trade, it can be difficult to spot.

Think of it like a magic trick, the first time you see it you can’t believe your eyes but once you learn the truth behind it, it makes a ton of sense.

That’s essentially what covert is, and that’s what resistance is too!

Resistance at first seems surefire, like you could do it in your sleep.

However, once you really investigate how the brain is peeled back ever so easily, it becomes a bit harder to even gauge where resistance lies.

Do you resist the words im telling you, or resist the ideas behind them?

Am I hiding something within these words, or is it simply another ploy to lower your walls?

You can see where this all comes from, right?

Resisting me isn’t hard at all, I invite you to do it when you can.

Not because it’s something I always want for you, I do indeed want you to fall when listening to my words.

But, we both know what happens at the end of it.

You fall anyways.

It’s an inevitability.

That’s what makes it fun.

Like jumping out of a plane, you know your parachute will open and you’ll fall safely to the ground.

Resistance is the same in hypnosis.

You know you can resist, and it’s fun to try and fight that inner voice telling you to melt for me.

That’s why I invite it.

It makes it more fun for the both of us.

I want you to notice though that again, im using resistance as a ploy once more.

Simply telling you to resist me.

You know about reverse psychology, don’t you?

I mean, it would be silly for you not to think im using it right now.

I’m telling you to resist so that you hear those echoes in your brain.

Telling you to let down those walls because you know it’s your fate now.

And yet, you can still resist me.

You can still resist my control.

Or you may find yourself slipping anyways.

Maybe I told you to resist.

Maybe I told you to fall.

That’s the best part about knowing your fate though.

Like I said earlier, it’s all about that inevitability.

That you’ll fall soon enough.

And you will, don’t worry.

Hell, you may have already fallen and not realized.

Maybe you’re so deep now that the pretty fog inside your brain’s already destroying every thought you have.

Maybe every thought you have now is just something I told you to think.

But, that’s the best part about it all.

You don’t know what’s going on.

Why you feel the way you do.

And it’s okay not to.

Sometimes, it’s better to sink and enjoy the ride.

Or enjoy resisting me still.

You have been resisting me still, haven’t you?

No?

Yes?

Does it matter?

You’re still going to fall anyways.

It’s not like I’ve been brainwashing you in and out and in and out of resistance this entire time.

It’s not like you’ve had any to begin with anyways.

I could’ve just been using all sorts of reverse psychology on you.

Who truly knows?

Not you, that’s for sure.

You see, that’s the best part of the fall.

When we get here, to the end of this little adventure.

And you know what comes next.

I’ve told you a million times already about it.

You may even believe that number, it’s not like everything else I’ve told you has been fabricated.

But there’s one part to all of this that is the truth.

The ending.

You fall.

Just like that.

And sink, melt, drop, dream into the abyss once more.

And just remember for me, for a moment if you can.

When I started talking about resistance.

Don’t remember? That’s okay.

Maybe you didn’t have any before we started.

Maybe I just broke it all down.

But, you knew all along anyways.

You were gonna fall.

Good subject.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Only Fyodor could die in a helicopter crash and then 2 hours later have the confidence to go and get into plane.

I don’t have a lot of confidence in the “do we need anymore” line but I have even less at the idea someone can safely use a transport vehicle in this series.

There’s so many things that could happen too.

Like Katai could hijack the plane or fry its circuits. Ranpo stole a van and Lucy stole a Port Mafia building. I think between them they can steal a plane.

Yosano has blown up one aircraft what’s another. Not to mention Fitzgerald’s people are monitoring the situation.

Even if Fyodor escapes the current scene I don’t think he’s leaving this place anytime soon.

[physalian]

On eating your “Realism” cake and having it too

Inspired by another post I didn't want to hijack twice.

TL;DR, people are able to suspend their disbelief for many things, but once you invite them to start questioning things, if you have not done the groundwork, your lore might fall apart.

Example I love to use is Cars to Cars 2.

People were not nitpicking how car society works after Cars. It’s a kids movie about anthropomorphic vehicles, and for the most part, it kind of made sense. The courthouse in Radiator Springs was built for vehicles, Doc was a “doctor” but really a fancy mechanic, and the plot was about cars racing, doing car things.

Yeah you could wonder things like, how did they build the buildings? Why do they have both sentient aircraft (the helicopter and blimp) but also planes being piloted by cars (the flyover of the jets above the big race)? But these were negligible background details that didn’t matter to the plot.

Cars didn’t have to be ‘realistic’ and wasn’t pretending to be.

Cars 2 was when people got all up in arms nitpicking the hell out of every little thing, because in this movie, zero thought was given to the worldbuilding beyond “idk it’s earth but with humans instead of cars” except now it matters to the plot.

Why is Mater able to eat wasabi? Why does wasabi exist? Why is there a car pope? Why is there a car queen? How do cars have parents? What was the point of that one car with their eyes in the headlights? Are sentient battleships born or made into a life of combat? Are all commercial planes forced to be pack mules for their whole existence? How does the car class system work? Why do lemons exist?

All of this taking away from the grand prix plot that made much more sense for the universe, instead of the spy movie. Now, to try and solve the mystery and engage with the story, we have to think about all those incongruous details. All those details, the car queen and car pope would have been funny background gags if the movie was just about the grand prix.

It’s still a kids movie, but now with all these details that don’t add up and cannot be ignored. Cars could be enjoyed by everyone. Cars 2 was made for money kids who weren’t supposed to think about all that.

—

If you as the author and your story take the tone of “this is for fun don’t think too hard” people will have a good time if they’re entertained and anyone who nitpicks can be met with, well, Dead Dove: What did you expect? It’s exactly what it says on the tin.

You can absolutely make shit up as you go along. I read a book that had dinosaurs on Mars. Why? Because it’s fun. There was a tiny scientific explanation given, but the plot did not rest on how and why these dinosaurs exist on Mars. The story never asked the audience to consider logic, nor did it have its characters questioning the worldbuilding.

You do not have to be “realistic,” in that way, to be good.

But once you start bringing attention to the elephant in the room, you need to have done your homework.

So, example.

I have a novel in which the sun does not shine, permanently, across the entire northern hemisphere of earth. This is fantasy, not sci-fi.

Option one: Ignore all the catastrophic consequences of such an apocalypse. How it works, why it happened, all that noise does not matter to the plot or the characters. No one ever questions it, no one’s choices ever depend on it. It’s just a fun aesthetic choice, in the same way that animals can talk to humans in Disney movies and no one questions it. Why and how they can talk does not matter, only that they can and we are now entertained by Mushu’s antics.

Option two: Okay, so I’ve taken the sun away from half the planet. I now need to think about the following: How does that affect the weather for the other half? What happens to all the plants and animals that lived in the North? How would one survive in that wasteland without easy access to food? What food could grow there without sunlight? By what other means can I get nutrients for plants and animals without sunlight, so people can eat, so communities can exist?

I went with option two. The plot of the book is very much tied to this lack of sunlight and the hazardous environment the characters are stuck in. The characters are wondering how it works and how they can overcome it constantly. I did my homework, I gave them a way to survive and even thrive up there. I am thus calling this post-apocalyptic setting “realistic”.

It’s still fantasy, so my explanation is still “because magic”, where the sun isn’t gone it’s just being blocked by a big magic blanket, to put it simply, but the consequences are based in realism. That way, my audience can follow along and understand how the world works and anticipate why characters do the things they do in their environment.

So if a geologist or climatologist reads my book and goes “um actually” and they point out that I’m wrong, I have to own that. I have to say “yeah I didn’t consider that, it’s a good point, but I can’t change the manuscript so to enjoy the book, try not to think about it.”

What I cannot do is protest all criticisms of my “realism” by going “it’s fantasy you’re not supposed to take it seriously” while turning around and also saying how smart I am and how clever and authentic my worldbuilding is.

Can’t eat your realism cake and have it too.

And this is only talking about the lore. I haven’t even touched escapist fantasy relationships.

A more famous example: Gandalf’s magic in Lord of the Rings.

Have not read the books in a hot minute so I’m referencing the movies as I’m more familiar with them.

Gandalf is a wizard. He can do an unexplained number of spells pretty much as the plot demands. What he cannot do is never given a hard limit, which tends to break most magic systems.

And yet. “Why didn’t Gandalf save the day?” isn’t a question that destroys the story.

Gandalf is a shepherd, not the hero. He can lead the race of Men to water, but he can’t make them drink. If he came in and started forcing all the power-hungry men to sit down, shut up, and cooperate, what magic Gandalf can and cannot do would be paramount to understanding the story. He can only nudge people in what he thinks is the right direction, but the choice to act is up to them.

Which is pretty heavily implied throughout the films.

As for his magic, Gandalf both never wins without consequence, and isn’t an aggressive character who resorts to his magic at every turn.

He took down the Balrog, but the Balrog got him, too

He warded off the nazgul with the big light beam outside Minas Tirith, but a lot of Gondorian soldiers still died, and he didn’t do any damage to the fellbeasts

He likes fun times and magic tricks, like the fireworks, more than spells for combat

He’s forgetful, like with the password to the door of Moria

He is not all-powerful

All this means that in any life or death situation, the weight of the plot does not rest solely on his shoulders.

So Tolkein isn’t “realistic” in that he consulted physicists about every little thing, but he’s “realistic” in that all the worldbuilding decisions and lore realistically fit the story. The choices of the characters, the behaviors of the different kingdoms, the perspectives of the different races all make sense for the world they live in.

—

It is nearly impossible, as a lone writer, to cover every potential plot hole that a reader could point out. It’s fiction, after all, and sometimes characters make choices because that’s what’s entertaining and the other option of “just go home” or “X did this because they forgot Y” is not entertaining.

But if you have, say, the series that inspired this post, with a world where winter shows up when the plot demands and lasts for years, you can either say “eh that’s just a thing that happens, it’s not important I just thought it was neat and a cool setting” and people will shrug it off.

Or you can say “this is absolutely critical to the entire story and impacts every society within my world” but don’t do your homework on what those impacts are, people can and will call you out on it.

[violetmuses]

Beacon - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Title: Beacon - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Mike, Marcus, and Armando cross paths with you after McGarth hijacks the federal transport.

=====

2024

“You are the only person who can identify whoever framed Cap! We should get them before they get us.”

Stranded through woods, Detective Mike Lowrey pulled his son Armando Aretas by his prison uniform collar.

“There is no us!” Armando grits his teeth and steps from Lowrey, pissed off beyond words.

“Hey! What's going on here?” You shouted in the distance. Mike and Armando turned around with Marcus Burnett.

“Oh, shit! Um…” Mike walked toward you first while Armando observed near Marcus. “I'm so sorry.”

“What happened?” You questioned, noticing Lowrey's damp clothes.

Mike glanced around the natural space, realizing that you set up this tent and organized essentials here.

“We lost our plane.” Mike dulled this explanation to avoid scaring you.

“Where are you going?” You point toward your car that's set across the seemingly remote campground.

“Miami.” Lowrey breathed through his quick response after handling the terrible water.

“Wait, aren't you a cop?” Truth hit once you acknowledged Detective Lowrey.

“Yes. We just need to get back home.” Mike lifted both hands just in case you'd bring out weapons for yourself.

“There's a criminal with you.” You whispered right here. Someone waited in this drenched orange prison uniform.

Mike turned around to see Armando lurking. Even Marcus peered in return.

“Oh, please don't panic.” Mike stepped closer to you. “This is my son Armando.”

“Your son?” You can't believe what's going on this time.

“I know it all sounds crazy, but could you please help us out?” Mike almost pleaded

“I'm leaving soon.” You somehow agreed with this unexpected plan. “If you're not around, I won't help.”

“Deal. Thank you.” Mike nodded quickly, jogging back to Marcus and Armando.

“You're welcome.” You accepted this reality and packed up various belongings.

______

Returning to your camp from this separate nightmare, Lowrey, Burnett, and Aretas stole clothes from two idiots, running off without fail.

At first sight of everyone's wardrobe, you hide this opportunity to laugh for a second. Even Armando looked out of place.

Armando his Bud Light shirt and this trucker hat veiled his eyes. Jeans covered both legs and boots stepped along dirt that trailed outside.

While four of you piled this vehicle, Armando takes the passenger seat, quiet when the air conditioning immediately cools everyone down.

Mike Lowrey gives you the address to a Miami boathouse.

Apparently, someone named Dorn stood as a tech genius for this team called AMMO, the current unit.

When you start driving away, Marcus Burnett talks from this backseat.

“Don't worry about Armando. He doesn't like us, either.” Burnett cut the silence found beyond your car's navigation system.

“All right.” You slightly ignored Marcus and continued focusing on the road.

_______

“Stay here.” Mike Lowrey warns Armando as your car finally reaches the boathouse.

“No soy un perro.” Irked, Armando grumbled through his native language of Spanish.

“Hey, listen. We might follow this plan, but watch your mouth.” Mike defended himself. “I'm going with Marcus.”

Exiting the car with his longtime partner, Mike Lowrey prompted you to stay near Armando.

And believe it or not, Armando started talking first rather than you.

“Sorry.” He apologized while offering slightly accented English. “What's your name?”

“I'll accept your apology, but my name doesn't matter.” You kept certain info private.

“Fair enough.” Armando quietly watches as you unfasten the driver's seatbelt.

Aretas is observant for many reasons. Earlier, no one else joined your side of the campground and you didn't sport a wedding ring, either.

His own incarceration has definitely stopped time now, but Armando still noticed how beautiful you are despite acknowledging the coastal heatwave.

The awkward silence lingered as you scroll through your phone and won't continue speaking with him.

“Who are you texting?” Nosey, Armando started talking once more.

“None of your business, actually.” You defended yourself.

Armando smirked for a moment before quickly reaching out and grabbing your phone, taking the device from you.

“Hey!” You lean inward to reach the phone again, but Armando raises his arms higher.

“Uh-uh.” Smiling over the brim of his trucker hat, Aretas chuckled for the first time in a while. You look so cute from this angle.

At that moment, he opened the passenger seat door and ran by this dock, still carrying your phone.

Dashing in return, you follow him after locking the car.

“Give it back.” You crossed both arms while facing him.

“Not yet. Hold up.” Armando then smiled once more and tapped away, biting his lip.

“What in the world?” You squinted past daylight this afternoon.

When Armando finally returns the phone, you discover one surprise:

His number.

[abadsmile]

Luck in Danganronpa and Makoto’s luck

Luck is an interesting force. It has multiples definitions and exist inside the world of Danganronpa. Before entering in details about luck in Danganronpa, especially the luck of Makoto, I have to define its definitions.

Luck can be seen in multiples ways :

- Luck can be seen as the phenomenon and belief that defines the experience of improbable events, especially improbably positive or negative ones.

- It can be defined as events or circumstances that operate for or against an individual.

- Or simply the force that causes things, especially good things, to happen to you by chance and not as a result of your own efforts or abilities.

- It can even be viewed not only as a phenomenon but also as an inexplicable supernatural force which some individuals can benefit from birth

It’s the last definition that is consistent with how luck is presented in Danganronpa. Luck as defined previously, is a supernatural force that exist inside the Danganronpa universe. As Celeste said « that luck is built into every human at the moment of conception. Like a computer program». She explicitly said to Makoto in her first free time, that she considered luck as « a power which can overwhelm any strategies ». As we know there is 5 characters who have supernatural luck :

- Makoto Naegi

- Nagito Komaeda

- Celestia Ludenberg (Taeko Yasuhiro)

- Jutaro akafuku

- Izuru Kamakura

What is interesting is how these characters act faced to their luck and how it impacts their lives and their emotional well-being. There is a concept that tackles this a bit deeper which is « moral luck ». Also known as ethical luck, it’s a philosophical concept that refers to the possibility of happy or unhappy events occurring in a person's life regardless of their actions or choices. In other words, moral luck is related to the question of how fair or unfair life is. What is important for my analysis, is not the concept itself but his implications and consequences on people. I know that luck in Danganronpa isn’t based on moral luck but luck in Danganronpa impacts the behavior of people who have luck which is tied to moral luck which itself is linked to the question of just and unjust.

Most of these users have supernatural luck who act differently depending on the characters but one character here have luck not in their everyday life but in games. That person is Celeste. She has supernatural luck when it comes to gambling and considers that luck is her main « power » that allows her to win. Despite all of that, she has the most normal luck among the others lucky characters which is a reflect of how « ordinary » she is, as even her luck can be considered as more normal than the others.

I won’t talk about Izuru Kamakura as luck didn’t impact him at all. What impacted him was the fact that he knew everything and had every talents which bored him and enabled him to cause havoc in order to not be bored.

Now that we have settled this, I can talk about the others right ?

For Makoto, Nagito and Jutaro, luck is an important factors to themselves.

Nagito Komaeda

With Nagito, we’ve seen how luck has played a major impact in his life. His luck functions like a pendulum that swings to extreme bad luck and extreme good luck. So much that he even came to despite it, as that luck was the reason of why all his unfortunate events came to be. The example that illustrates it, is the loss of his parents. Indeed he lost his parents when their plane was being hijacked. Both the hijacker and his parents died because of a small meteor which crashed into the airplane, leaving him to be the only survivor with him inheriting the fortune of his parents. That’s also while seeming to be obsessed with talent, in reality, he isn’t, in the contrary, he despises talent as talent is often considered to be based on luck which is again, something that he dislikes as it caused him great misfortunes.

We saw his ideal world in 2.5 Danganronpa, where talent doesn’t exist, where everybody is equal. He basically due to his luck, has lost meaning in his life so in order to cope, he developed a strong unhealthy faith in hope in order to find meaning. As he said in the chapter 5 of Danganronpa, he wanted to be « the protagonist ». What he truly wants is meaning into his life and to have hope in order to still push forward into life. Though he hates it, he uses his luck for his purpose and goals. Even though, it seems to be uncontrollable, his luck functions as a cycle, as a pattern which is predictable and usable for Nagito as seen multiples times in Danganronpa Goodbye Despair.

Finally, his luck caused him to not let people near him as he is self-aware of his luck and knows the consequences of it. Even if he doesn’t want to be alone, his luck forces him to be alone. That’s why he put distances with most of the cast but especially Hajime with which he harbors romantic feelings. He doesn’t want him to die because of his luck.

Jataro Akafuku

With Jataro, luck is an important factor of his life. He is the main antagonist of the short novel « Makoto’s secret file » . However, Jutaro himself despises said luck and wants to prove he can do without such fortune. As such, he grew up to become a seasoned thief that makes intricate plans for his endeavors. However, in spite of this, he often gets into situations where good luck bails him out anyway. He wants to prove that it’s him that does the trick not his luck. He wants his own efforts to be rewarded. In a a way, he echoes the others mastermind of the series like Junko and Izuru. Their talent is the cause of their bad behavior and evilness. While Junko’s and Izuru’s talents burdened them to a greater extent, Jutaro’s luck burdens him in his every day life. He is someone that tries to defy fate, tries to defy his luck despite using it.

Makoto Naegi

Now, Makoto. The luck of Makoto is based on unfortunate events that ends up being lucky for him. While he is aware of his bad luck, he seems to not be that self-aware of his good luck. As said by Junko in Danganronpa 3, while Nagito’s luck can be predicted, Makoto’s luck is unpredictable and not logical and thus impossible to predict even for Junko who is the ultimate analyst. In Makoto’s secret file, we discover how Makoto was accepted into Hope’s speak academy. We see how his bad luck affects him in his daily life. For instance, when he started to do a detour, he met one of his classmates and played at rock paper scissors with him and others people that he didn’t know, he lost so he had to go buy stuff at the

groceries. But all the stuff that he bought is too heavy so it begins to fall from because of the plastic grocery bags broke. Then after recollecting all the drinks and foods, he remarks that one drink is not there and ended up searching for it until he met with an old man drinking one of the drink he bought at the grocery store.

As we can see he suffers from a severe bad luck, not extreme like Nagito, but it keeps adding up. Bad luck is something that Makoto undergoes even before Hope’s speak so we can guess that having bad luck is not weird for him even though those instances of bad luck that he surely had, were small in comparison of what happened in this short novel. So he must have complained in the past like he did. So it’s there that moral luck plays his role. Based on what we have seen, Makoto’s bad luck is unfair as it doesn’t depend on him but on external factors. Some people will complain that life is unfair and will tend to feel discouraged, helpless and hopeless, which is the case of Makoto in that situation.

Makoto secret file :

This is just not my lucky day. For the past, like, half-hour, bad things have constantly been happening. Why me? Why now? Is it karma or something?” ~ (Makoto)

His complaint is … totally fair. It’s what a normal person would have done if these events would have happened to them and Makoto is a normal and ordinary person so it’s a normal reaction, right ? Despite his optimism, he can get frustrated at times and feels that the world goes against him.

However here what the old man says to Makoto :

« In short, no one has any control over their fortune. As hard as we might try, as skilled as we might be, we can’t fight fate. Nothing good can come of either leaning too hard on luck or resisting it. Whether our luck is good or bad, all we can do is accept it for what it is. That’s the conclusion I’ve drawn after all these years », the old man said, nodding in approval of his own words. ~ (Old man)

These words are important, very important to Makoto’s character as it resumes the way, he deals with different situations, how he reacts to these various situations. The old man says basically to not relying too much on luck or trying to resist it as it’s a force that cannot be controlled. Relying too much on it and it can come back to punch you behind your back like Nagito does in GD or try resisting it and you will always be pessimistic and wait for the worse so it will affect your mental health just like Jutaro that tried so much to resist it that he decided to become a thief so as to make intricate plans so as to not depend on luck.

So accepting luck as it is, is the better solution and that’s what Makoto agrees to the words of the old man after the old man left.

However, something the man had said had struck a chord with Makoto: “Accept it for what it is,” he had proclaimed, almost preachingly.He had a point. There was no benefit in letting yourself get dragged around by an incomprehensible force of nature like luck, and getting angry or crying about it wouldn’t change anything. In which case, just giving up and accepting it as part of life was probably the best option. Leave the unpleasant memories for the past. Dragging them around like a ball-and-chain was just dumb. That notion made Makoto feel just a little bit better about himself. “Yep,” he said, “that’s what I’ll do.” ~ (Makoto)

In here, subconsciously, Makoto decides to not despise his luck and try to live with it. Which is funny as he is the only one out of the three people who were impacted by their luck to not hate his luck. But he is also the only one who isn’t self-aware of the final result of his luck which is good fortune, so he doesn’t lean on it like Nagito and Jutaro. His acceptance to luck whether it is bad of good also can explain for a major part of his passiveness when it comes with interacting with people. I won’t explain further as I think I may over analyze it.

It’s also what Makoto did in Danganronpa THH. Here some example of that :

Danganronpa THH :

They all stared at one another, trying to gauge each other's thoughts. I could almost taste the hostility. And that's when it hit me. I realized the true terror hidden within the rules Monokuma had laid out. "You must kill someone if you want to leave." Those words had planted vicious thoughts deep within each of us. Each of us became suspicious of everyone else. We were forced to wonder, "Is somebody going to betray us?"

And that was how my new school life began... This school, which had come out of nowhere to raise my hopes so high... It's *not* a school of hope.

It's...a school of despair. ~ (Makoto)

Here’s another example :

Puhuhu... See? It opened right up! Isn't that crazy, though? Your door's the only one that doesn't fit quite right!

You're supposed to be the Ultimate Lucky Student, right? But look like you're not lucky at all!

Anyways, I suddenly don't feel like being here anymore. Bye! *leaves* (Monokuma)

H-Hey! Wait!

... Dammit... (Makoto)

He doesn’t complain at all. Being unlucky isn’t something that is said in all of these instances quoted.

Even if he did said « dammit », it’s not like before and complain like he did in the novel. In the contrary, like the old man advised him, he has accepted to be within the whims of luck, accepted for what it is. While luck isn’t named or talked much in this first visual novel, this short novel gave us an insight on how Makoto sees himself his luck and why he doesn’t talk much of his instances of bad luck inside the game. Even in Danganronpa 3, when we see class 78 locking up inside the ancient building, he still doesn’t complain when falling to the ground and instead thanks his classmates to help him. If the novel was made before THH, I wouldn’t have considered it but it was made after, as an addition to Makoto’s character. It was thought after that game, so I decided to use it after all.

Him accepting as it is also an explanation of why he is accepting to be ordinary despite his inferiority complex to the ultimate. As we have linked luck with talent when talking about Nagito, I can do the same with Makoto. While geniuses have to still work hard to be what they are, they still benefited a huge amount of talent so as to become an ultimate. It can be linked as being lucky as that talent comes from external factors not in control with the talented person.

Talent in Danganronpa is important as it draws the lines between people who are considered to be extraordinary and the others who are normal and considered useless. That’s why those who don’t have talent may view themselves as inferior to talented people and that’s the case of Makoto. During the last FTE with Chihiro, he clearly said that he has an inferiority complex

Chihiro last FTE :

Well, I guess so... For me, it's how forgettably ordinary I am.I've been made painfully aware of this part of me ever since I came here.The rest of you all have your ultimate abilities, but I don't have any kind of talent at all ~ (Makoto)

It’s something, a part of him that I say, he do not hate but also something that he can’t stand. This inferiority complex was much more shown in the first chapter of Danganronpa THH and it’s prologue. However, he has accepted it. Just as much he accepted it to not try resisting luck, he has accepted his normalcy like he said just after he expressed his inferiority complex :

I'm not sure I can... That's why I decided to just accept it. It's how I feel, and there's nothing I can do about it ~ (Makoto)

Indeed, just like luck, there is nothing that he could do about it and accept it. But there also a thing that I must explain : why his inferiority complex isn’t talked about after the first chapter ? While his inferiority complex is a part of his character, it’s not the main component of it. In addition, Makoto gives us an answer to in Chihiro last FTE, again :

And if I find myself thinking about it too much, I just find something else to do with my time.If I throw myself into something hard enough, I can forget about it for a little while ~ (Makoto)

It’s the explanation of why his lack of confidence, his inferiority complex isn’t talked much. After the first chapter of THH, what the goal, the objective that Makoto focuses on ? To hold the memories of the people who are dead and to stop the killing game at all cost. Being focused on doing that and on grieving on the death of Sayaka, it’s expected that his inferiority complex isn’t talked much, after all it’s not something that haunts him that much in contrary to Hajime. Himself said it that if he find something else to do with his time, he will throw himself in that something hard enough. That sentence also shows and hints us to his unshakable will and his never-ending will to persevere in this situation. Like said in that FTE, Makoto is someone if he puts his mind into it who is extremely stubborn on things that he holds dear and on things that he won’t back down, it’s in his nature.

Finally, the words of the old man and Makoto’s retrospection on himself after what said the old man, gives us another view on Makoto. He maybe naive but he isn’t an idealist. As he may be an optimist as said in Makoto’s secret file :

Makoto’s secret file :

His optimism, which allowed him to so readily switch gears emotionally, was one of Makoto Naegi’s positive traits. That said, he didn’t really have time to wallow in his misery—he was still in the middle of an errand. His friend’s group would almost certainly be expecting him any second now, which meant he needed to head into the store, get a couple bags that wouldn’t break, and hurry back to the park. ~ (Makoto)

He is someone who is able to accept things as they are and look at the bigger picture. While trying to deny the death of Sayaka the first time he woke up after falling to unconsciousness when he saw the corpse of Sayaka as she was someone that he was closed with and her betrayal, he ended up accepting it even if it hurtled him. Whereas Taka couldn’t accept that Mondo was the culprit and still didn’t vote for him at the end. He couldn’t accept that reality and tried to deny it which caused him to become a husk. Therefore Makoto accepts things as it is quickly and knows that there is still the possibility of someone killing people but he still try to trust his classmates after chapter 1 as he wants to believe in their goodness while accepting their bad.

Thereby, Makoto is in reality an optimistic realistic that while still accepting reality as it is, doesn’t give up and try to push forward for a better tomorrow, try to prevail despite his current reality.

[jellybeanium124]

This is some of the most disgusting shit I’ve ever seen. “9/11 is great.” NO IT FUCKING WASN’T. IT RESULTED IN 4.5 MILLION DEATHS. “Blowback to US imperialism” so hijacking planes is just normal anti imperialist behavior? We fight imperialism by hijacking planes and murdering civilians? It’s good because it will get people interested in learning about imperialism! Are you fucking crazy? Are you evil? 9/11 is how you’re going to teach people about imperialism? I want you to say that in front of a room full of people whose loved ones died during the initial attacks or subsequent wars on terror and not feel like a piece of shit who deserves to rot in hell. Imagine saying that the Tulsa race massacre is good because it might get people interested in learning about racism! That’s how you fucking sound. This horrible, hate fueled event that killed people is good because it might get some people into politics.

Also the victim blamy ass nature of this post. It’s America’s fault a non-American terrorist group hijacked 4 planes? It’s America’s fault 3,000 of their citizens died? Those stupid Americans were killed by terrorists for the crime of living in America. Yeah seems like a totally normal, not horrible thing to say! You are despicable garbage who sees human life as totally disposable so long as it can be used to justify your own ends and indoctrinate people into your ideology.

You cannot care about the effect of the wars on terror and say this. You think 4.5 million brown lives were disposable because it made funny anti America meme! Americans are not the main casualties of 9/11 at this point. The main casualties are Iraqi and Afghans and Libyan and Pakistani.

You say you hate the war on terror, and yet you wish me a merry 9/11. If those terrorists hadn’t done that attack, 4.5 million more people would be alive today, and the 38 million displaced people would still be in their homes. You are a ghoul of the highest order and I hope one day humanity finds you again.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:

LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!

These were all via text messages, btw.

CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!

---------------------------------------------------

Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'

Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.

Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.

(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)

MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.

Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it. 

That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady. 

The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?

Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good. 

At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.

Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?

Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'

The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.

Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?

The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.

Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go! 

Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go!  Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades! 

Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.

You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin! 

If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.

I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.

Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?

See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too. 

Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now?  Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!

Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?

Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'

Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.

Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?

Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.  

Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.

The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?

YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!

Blondie’s got a gun 

Blondie’s got a gun

Her whole world's come undone

Shooting droids is FUN!

GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!! 

YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!

I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!

....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!

-----------------

Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian

[hawkflame999]

A few incorrect quotes from my Secrecy AU.

So you all asked for Incorrect quotes, huh? well here they are! —----------------------------------------------------- Cole: LLOYD! Get out of your true form RIGHT NOW! You could get seen!

Lloyd: Ugh, fine it’s not like we’re in the deepest, darkest, most shadowy corner in a city of all time, so I'll go back to pretending to be fully human….

Kai: Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon Spinjitzu-

Lloyd: *Sighs and shifts to human form* There. Happy? Wu: Lloyd, you have to be careful, especially in the city. 

Lloyd: Yes, uncle!

The other five: ........

—-----------------------------------------------------

Wu: Okay, I want you all to be very honest, and I want you to know I'm not very angry, so tell the truth.

Everyone: Wu:

Wu: Cole….Jay….Kai….And Zane.

Cole: What!?!?! Why are we getting blamed for this?

Wu: Well, you’re the ones who taught Lloyd the basics… at least that’s what you said you were doing.

All four: uh….. Wu:

Wu: When I said you could teach Lloyd how to drive, I didn't mean you could teach him how to drift.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: You couldn’t sleep guys either?

Cole: Yup, us too, little buddy.

Kai and Nya: Uh huh.

Zane: It appears so. 

Jay: What Zane said. 

Wu, walking in: WHY ARE ALL SIX OF YOU AWAKE AT 3AM?

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: Uncle, can you tell me about how my dad was when he was younger? Wu: Well, as children me and your father would play hide and seek. 

Lloyd: And?

Wu: And whenever Garmadon found me he’d pretend to be a child-eating monster and chase me around.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Skylor, holding on for dear life: Do any of you even have car licenses??? Zane, Kai, Cole, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd in perfect unison: NOPE!

Skylor: THEN WHY ARE WE HIJACKING A FREAKING PLANE?!?!?!?!

Jay: Just because we don’t have licenses doesn’t mean we don’t know how!

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jay: Soooo who’s gonna say it?

Kid!Lloyd: Say what?

Kai: You had a nightmare.

Lloyd: No I didn’t!

Zane: Explain why you woke up screaming, then. 

Lloyd:

Nya: Exactly.

Lloyd: *groans* This is why I hate being the youngest, your siblings always see through you at the worst of times!

Kai: Calm down buddy, now what was the nightmare about?

Lloyd: I’m not saying.

Cole: You sure? Come on, tell us!

Lloyd: Make me.

Jay: *smirking* Oh, really?Or do you want a visit from the tickle monster?

Lloyd: *Nervous* Okay, okay! I’ll tell you!

Nya: Good. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: Uncle Wu! How did you find us?

Wu: I saw an explosion and recalled something about ‘Jumping Yōkai Hunters’.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Zane, looking under the bed with a flashlight: Lloyd, are you ready to come out and interact with people?

Kid!Lloyd, under bed: *growls* HISSSSSSSS! Zane: understandable, have a nice day.

Jay: 

Jay: At this rate, he’l never come out from under there. It been two days. Cole: should i jst pull him out? Kai: yeah, he hasn't been eating.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: I can't believe we're doing this.

Kai: Look on the bright side, at least this time we're not crashing a vehicle into Sensei's tea shop.

Cole: Yeah, this time we're just evading the police while riding stolen motorcycles.

Nya: Oh, joy.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jay: So, who's up for a game of hide and seek?

Lloyd: Not it!

Cole: Not it!

Kai: Not it!

Jay: ...Seriously?

Nya: It's okay, i'll be it.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Cole: So, who's up for a game of hide and seek in the dark?

Kai: Uh, Cole, we're already hiding from society. I think we've mastered that game. Cole: Lloyd: Nya:

Skylor:

Cole: So are we playing? Jay: Heck yeah.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Misako: Why do I always get dragged into your crazy plans?

Jay: Because you're one of only our friends with a driver's license.

Misako: I regret ever getting that license.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Kai: We need to get to the middle of the city, but we can’t without the police seeing us!

Jay: Hang on, lemme cause a blackout!

—-----------------------------------------------------

Zane: Ok, we need to get to the other side of the cliff……. ICE SLIDE!

Nya: I'll help make it slippery, too!

—-----------------------------------------------------

Zane, Kai, Cole, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd: Are we in trouble?

Wu: take a guess.

Kai: No?

Wu:

Wu: take another guess.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Sensei Garmadon: Lloyd, back when our uncle was younger, he’d sneak off when me and your grandfather weren’t looking and get into a lot of trouble. Sometimes I joined him.

Lloyd: really?

Sensei Garmadon: Yes, and it started up with the other Elementals too. And I see that your generation has inherited it, especially you.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Cole: Well if the way out of this is the sewers…

Zane: Come on, we can see in the dark!

Jay: What I'm worried about is the POLICE ARE TRYING TO SEND US TO AN ORPHANAGE BECAUSE THEY THINK WE’RE A BUNCH OF ORPHAN STREET KIDS.

Nya: That isn’t too far from the truth, though.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Cole: How did we end up on top of a moving train again?

Zane: It seemed like the quickest way to get to the other side of the city without being seen.

Kai: Plus, it's a great view from up here!

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: Okay, we need a plan. Who's got one?

Jay: raises hand

Kai: Jay, your last plan involved us getting stuck in a tree for three hours.

Jay: But we got away, didn't we?

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: Why do I always have to be the distraction?

Cole: Because you're the youngest and most innocent-looking.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Lloyd: Why do we always end up in these crazy situations?

Cole: Because we're the ninja, Lloyd. It's practically in the job description.If being a ninja has a job description….

Kai: Yeah, but I don't remember "evading the police while riding a stolen rickshaw" being listed anywhere.

—-----------------------------------------------------

That's it for now :D Part One of This AU

[nunalastor]

Guy / Serial Roommates

Anonymous asked:

Goes anyone else get mixed-vibes about Guy? I don't know what he's meant to look like but I always imagine dark hair, dark grey eyes, and tan skin. Like he might be white-passing but there is some Asian in there somewhere.

Anonymous asked:

Vox finds out about Guy and what he hears makes him think that Guy is Alastor's lover. There's no way Alastor suffered through all that for just a friend, right? And that would explain in Vox's head why Alastor rejected him if his heart belonged to someone else.

Guy and Alastor find out about that false impression and do the crazy cross-eyed laugh together.

Anonymous asked:

Serial Roommates Plot Twist: Guy is miserable in heaven (he and Al are friends for a reason) but convinced himself if Alastor is there, everything will be okay and they can fix all the problems together. Part of him knows he is more alive in hell and so is Alastor, but preconceived notions of what heaven and hell are meant to be makes him think helping people leave hell is best. Either way he acts as a therapist to give others the kindness and grace about mental health he couldn’t find in heaven.

Anonymous asked:

At this point, every demon with a brain knows it would be suicide to kidnap or hurt Guy. It reminds me of this episode of Superman of a plane being hijacked and Lois Lane is on it. When she tells them her name they’re like, the one Superman always saves?!

Imagine that with Guy? He just let his would be murderers know his name and they instantly know, they fucked up. By then it’s too late and they hear the screeching of an elk and radio static.

Anonymous asked:

The combination of Guy dying from cancer or some other sickness and Alastor still dying first is so painful! He would need the support of a friend, but one day Alastor never came home from his hunt and Guy was left to suffer and die alone. Any comfort he could have in reuniting with him after death also destroyed when he finds out he went to heaven and Alastor went to hell.

Anonymous asked:

Oh! Guy has a death now! It makes sense for disease to do him in, nobody in the cast we know of died of illness and after looking up images of the Bakers Estate that looks like somewhere someone would get all the diseases, mold cure or not.

Buckshot Anon, your time has come!

Anonymous asked:

What characters do y'all think Guy and Llewella would play in the DnD AU? I imagine the two of them being guest party members who only occasionally join the main group.

Also, Cherri Bomb takes over playing Sir Pentious's character after he dies.

Anonymous asked:

Currently obsessed with the song Albi by Sevdaliza and it gave me of the idea of genderbend Alastor and Guy.

Guy would still work for the police but possibly a matron or secretary. (Who knows maybe still an officer cause I just googled and apparently the first female cop was in the 1908) So her focus would be focused on women. So when she learns her roommate is killing the abusers, rapists and other killers; of course she’s going to support her.

Can you remember when the last time was

You felt safe in the dark?

This world was never meant for a woman's heart

But still, you rise through it all

When I'm out of breath, she's my vitals

When I need to rev, she's my ride-or-die

When I'm out of faith, she's my idol

I just killed a man, she's my alibi

Anonymous asked:

Can we all agree that if Guy were to fall for whatever reason, his demon form would be legitimately horrifying? His base form would probably look mostly human like Alastor (didn’t we say he had some dog traits, like he is to dogs what Alastor is to deer?) but going into his full demon form would tap into the mold he was infected with for months in the Baker Estate and become something grotesque. Shit like his burned away angel wings regenerating comprised entirely of the mold. That, and if he died of cancer related to his exposure to the mold, what is a more fucked up demon form to have than that of the thing that caused your torture, possession, and later slow death? 

Anonymous asked:

Alastor's suitors: *kidnap Guy for yandere reasons*

Guy: ROOKIE NUMBERS