#the point was built but no pay-off delivered

[engeorged]

The Influencer : Milo

Words by @engeorged

Illustrations by @badoobers

Find the rest of my stories here

Milo was drifting in life. Now I’m his late twenties he hadn’t really found a purpose in life or a job that lasted for more than 6 months. He was more athletic than smart, but popular and always surrounded by people. He would do pretty much anything to gets a laugh. Setting fire to his farts was his specialty, guaranteed to bring the house down. Once nearly literally when he set fire to the curtains.

Never good enough to be captain but always good enough to be picked first for most things. He excelled in rugby due to his size and build. One thing he was head and shoulders above the rest at. Towering above most of this peers, by the time puberty have finished with him he was 6’6 and built like a house. He had broad shoulders with a physique to match. Thick arms and legs and an ass you might assume was some sort of joke prosthetic. Real country corn fed type with dirty blonde hair and usually some combination of darker facial hair.

When all his friends went off to university, he stayed behind to care for his father who was dying of a rather short lived and aggressive illness. This took him to a fairly dark and lonely place as he hit his twenties. He expected all his old friends to start drifting back to the town they grew up in but most were high flyers and weren’t interested in coming back to that small life. Ever the optimist Milo set about trying to find himself a career. He would try most things once. Hospitality didn’t really suit his bulking frame, knocking stuff over regularly with one of his large limbs. Being the size he was didn’t really suit nipping between tables either. Retail bored him and he rarely lasted a few weeks. Ballon modelling, catering, tree surgery, manual labour all came and went. Nothing really stuck. His life was spent between jobs crashing on sofas and living in his parents basement when that wasn’t an option.

His latest idea was to try and make it as a social media influencer. He was funny enough and decent looking enough to at least have a go but nothing he made seemed to go viral. There were a few times he thought he’d cracked it but his views never made it past the high hundreds. He was currently living above a pizza place in a shitty flat share and supporting himself with three jobs. Dog walking, delivering pizza flyers and a few days looking after some rich guys house whilst he was off round the world. Milo was coming to the sad realisation that he was just like every other washed up jock struggling to hold his shit together.

It was Friday evening and his employer Mr Gordon was away again. This time brokering a merger in Singapore or Shanghai or Seoul, something like that anyway. Milo was sat next to the pool drinking a beer, daydreaming of the day he would have his own house like this. He was in a bit of a funk and a little bit buzzed with the several beers he had downed on his empty stomach. As he brooded on his life he started a bit of a downward spiral. Eventually coming to the conclusion that he’d had enough. The influencer thing was dumb. Influencers were all ball sacks anyway, he wasn’t about that life.

Out of the blue last week he’d had a DM from a friend he’d not seen for years. Will had gotten married straight from college, as his cheerleader girlfriend got pregnant and Milo hadn’t really heard from him since. Apparently he now had a successful business in construction or logistics and after they were chatting he said he had a few entry level jobs going if he was interested. Milo had closed down the message at that point, but right now it was starting to look promising. The pay was ok and he would be trained on the job. Even if it meant a lifetime of desk work, maybe that kind of stability was just what he needed? As usual he couldn’t find his phone so he searched round for it and eventually found it in the footwell of his batteries pickup. Unlocking the screen, he began to go through and delete his five instagram accounts then his twitter handles. He’d leave Facebook as no one bothered with that any more anyway. However, as he opened his TikTok app he noticed a notification at the bottom of the screen. Opening it, his eyes widened, as he saw what was in the message. One of his videos in the last day had actually finally gone and done it. He’d gone viral. Quickly he scrolled through the notifications to work out which video it was and to his surprise it was a mukbang video he’d done a few weeks ago. He’d bought two kfc family buckets and had ploughed through them in half an hour. Chugging the soda at the end and showing everyone his swollen belly. It was a bit of a low point afterwards and he nearly deleted it as it made him feel a bit vulnerable. He was so glad he left it up there as now this might be his ticket to fame.

The video had amassed over 200,000 likes in just over 24 hours. Scrolling through the comments, there were people from all over the world commenting on how amazing the video was and how good he looked. Milo was a little surprised at how many thirsty comments on there. People commenting on how hot the video was and how hot it was to see his bloated belly at the end. They seemed to be impressed at how much he ate as well. He remembered at the time feeling a bit sick but he was a big guy. He was always capable to eating big. He was known for it with his three brothers who would always get a bit competitive over family meals. Especially at Christmas time when they would take bets on who could eat the most. Milo was pretty much the undefeated champion, even now his eldest brother Tom had gotten super fat.

There were hundreds of comments asking for more and demanding a live stream. Taking a moment to think, he came to the slow realisation that he was in a huge mansion with permission to eat anything he wanted. Mr Gordon wouldn’t even notice if he cleared the fridge which was always well stocked. He had already consumed a good dozen beers which was giving him a decent amount of Dutch courage. Dizzy with beer and ambition he hit the live button and headed to the kitchen. Several thoughts rushed through his head whilst he waited. The watcher count stayed at zero for 5 whole minutes. The adrenaline began to wear off and he started feeling embarrassed. Maybe he’d jumped the gun. Maybe he wasn’t destined for internet fame. Maybe the video going viral meant nothing. Just the victim of an algorithm. Then suddenly with a ping the counter went up to one. The lone watcher was typing . . .

🥵

Never had a single emoji made Milo feel so great. A few seconds later, a second ping happened, followed by a third. People were coming. Soon the watcher number began to rise and with an intake of breath Milo began talking. Moving round kitchen he showed the watchers what was in the fridge The beer and wine store was pretty stocked, so that was always an option but the general consensus was that they wanted him to eat not drink. Opening the double doors of the huge fridge revealed a world of options. Someone in the comments even asked him if he could eat the whole lot. To which he laughed and said ‘Maybe!’

In the end it was decided by the group, that he was to eat a load of leftovers from some party Mr Gordon had had a few days before. As soon as Milo started to pull the tubs out of the fridge he began to regret suggesting it. There was a lot of food. Two large tubs, a platter of entrees and a good two thirds of a huge chocolate and caramel cake covered in thick double cream. As he laid it all out on the Italian marble worktop he propped his phone up against the fancy fruit bowl. The watchers were up to 800 and still rising. Adrenaline pumping, Milo started stuffing his face. The comments were rolling in thick and fast. Too fast for him to read but as they rushed past he could see the people were loving it. Lots of little images were pinging up and AR lenses people started to be applying to him, making him look like a cowboy and then an alien and then a cute fluffy teddy bear which everyone agreed made him look adorable with.

As he shovelled in the rich canapés, he could feel his stomach begin to tighten. He wondered whether or not to say anything but the second he did the watcher went crazy for it! So he continued describing to the watchers everything that was happening to him, lifting his T-shirt to show them his slight curve as his thick abs began to rise. There were numbers and emojis flying all over his screen and he had no idea what any of them were but he was obviously smashing it. This gave him some momentum to plough through. The entire platter of entrees were now firmly inside his now gently curved stomach. As he finished the tray he lifted his shirt and showed everyone again, jokingly slamming the tray upside down on the counter.

Over the next hour he ate like he had never eaten before. The first run containing a selection of nibbles, including some of the best duck bao buns he’d ever seen. Every one was decorated to look like a cute little animal which the crowd watching especially enjoyed. After those he stated I inhaling some mini sliders and pulled pork blinis. He began to slow down a little as the tub began to empty and so, needing a little break, he stood and pulled his shirt completely off revealing his now substantially distended stomach. The comments were turning slightly feral as people were lapping it up this slab of a man, stuffing himself silly. Giving him instructions to rub it or push it out. There were a few weird vaguely sexual suggestions which he put out of his head for now. There was time to process that later. However, on the whole everyone was loving his engorged stomach. Who knew this was the thing would turn him into an influencer?

In the flurry of messages, one user was beginning to stand out. The messages he sent were in bold and a mustard yellow colour which made them stand out. Pausing the chat so he could try and read them, they came from user @fulltank87, who seemed to be offering some advice. The guy advised Milo to head to the fridge and grab a bottle of soda and chug it as fast as he could without belching and hold it for as long as he could whilst leaning to the right. He ran to the fridge and slowed down as his fullness hit him. Grabbing a 2 litre bottle of coke he lined up the shot and got ready. @fulltank87 gave one more instruction to push a straw into the neck of the bottle and push the end down the side. This came back to Milo as a cheap way of doing a beer bong. Rummaging through the cupboards he finally found a plastic straw and popped it inside the neck. Getting back into position so the audience could get the best view, he lifted the bottle to his lips and threw it back. The coke pushed down his throat fast nearly causing him to cough and choke but he managed to push through. Closing his eyes he concentrated on the heavy flow of the coke surging down into his already swollen gut. He had a way of relaxing his throat so he didn’t need to swallow which came back to him from his rugby party days. From the side the viewers got a perfect view of his thick adams apple bobbing up and down with the liquid and if you looked carefully you could see his stomach inching out a little further.

Toward the end the coldness of the cokeand the bubbles were hurting the back of his throat and he nearly had to stop, but he knew he could make it. With a loud roar he finished the whole thing and immediately felt sick. Remembering the suggestion, he leant to the right and tried to hold it but he could feel bubbles rushing up his nose. With another almighty roar he let out the biggest burp he had ever done. He could literally feel his belly going down as the gas escaped.

Instead of turning people off, this seemed to be the highlight of the live. Approval was pouring in from the now people watching, which now had reached 1k. The adoration and attention he was receiving, along with and the stretch provided by the coke gave him the momentum to keep going. Pulling open the second tub he found a whole load of chicken wings which were his all time favourite. There must have been at least thirty of them. He teased the load to the watching crowd who responded with more of the same reaction. Looking down at his stomach he was a little scared. He wasn’t this big when he did the kfc mukbang video. He’d seen his belly like this before at family gatherings but looking at how much food was left he would definitely be pushing his limit.

Milo decided to tell the live stream exactly how he was feeling, hoping it would endear him to people. He showed them how swollen stomach was, running his hand across is distended bulge. He was feeling an awful lot of pressure just under his ribs which he half remembered was where his stomach was. Obviously, tips and comments poured in from that point. People telling him how to eat, what angle to eat at, the speed at which he should eat them. Overwhelmed, he found a way to filter just @fulltank87’s comments, who was calmly explaining to him how he just needed to simply keep a fast pace up and rhythmically start eating. So Milo did just that. He got into a rhythm of breaking the wing and stripping the meat off with his teeth and sucking the succulent flesh off of it. Whilst he chewed it and swallowed, he prepped the next wing. Ignoring the pressure building up inside him he ploughed through and within 15 minutes the tub was empty. Standing again he proudly displayed his swollen belly. It was now much more pronounced. Making his long torso, oval as it swelled. Giving time for some audience interaction would be a good move to let him have a little breather. Rubbing his furry stomach and arching his back for emphasis he showed off the results of his feasting.

Milo was beginning to feel as if he wasn’t able to eat any more when he glanced at the watchers. He was up to 1.2k which was insane. He needed to finish this for the people watching. Plus, if he could finish this challenge he could definitely build a whole career out of this. The only thing left in the counter was the large cake. The only way he was doing this was to totally ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his belly pushing against the counter. This was possible. The end was in sight. And that end was 4000 calories of rich cake. Spurred on by the encouragements, Milo found the largest spoon he could find and stood up for this final lap. There was nothing for it but to undo the top button on his shorts which popped satisfyingly. He felt his stomach relax as it filled the space vacated. This also had the unfortunate impact of sliding his zipper all the way down. Panicking, he checked his phone screen and thankfully today was not a day when he had chosen to go commando.

Determined to finish this he hefted a large spoon full of the cake and pushed it into his mouth. The cake was unbelievable. The cake was light and fluffy with bitter dark chocolate ganache through it. The sweet salted caramel sauce filled his tastebuds with electricity. All offset but the light but heavy whipped cream. The cake was perfection. Pushing on he crammed more and more of the cake into his mouth, cream and chocolate smeared all over his face. He was beginning to loose himself in the tastes that were filling his brain, almost numb to the building swell of his stomach. The viewers going wild in the comments. Urging him to finish his challenge. Milo had an almost out of body experience where he was watching himself eat on his phone. On the screen, his stomach was comically distended, curving up from the gaping v of his fly. His neatly trimmed stomach hair covered in grease from the food on his hands as he had rubbed his distended gut. In a dream-like state he watched himself finish the cake. The whole thing now concealed inside his hugely bloated stomach. Comments and congratulations from all the watchers were streaming in as he stood face on to the camera breathing heavily. Belching under his breath he assured them he would be back and leant forward and turned the live stream off.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. The only sounds he could hear were the faint gurgle of his stomach digesting the huge quantity of food and his own heart, beating in his ears.

Looking down his normally flat stomach was arched out from his body. He felt utterly packed full. He just about managed to make it to the shower where he stripped off and got in underneath the rainfall setting. The warm water soothing his massively swollen dome of a gut. He couldn’t even really move. He just allowed the soothing water to wash off the evidence gluttony. As he stood there with his eyes closed his thoughts turned to what he might do next.

Find Part Two here

[wumblr]

okay

For decades, nuclear power has been the largest source of clean energy in the United States, accounting for 19% of total energy produced last year

false. first sentence. off to a great start. you may notice this is a 2022 chart but i can tell you the only new reactors started since then are vogtle 3 and 4 (you may notice that's not a new power plant but new reactors at an existing plant), years late and $17b over budget, vogtle as a whole produces 1.1gwh, we use about 29 million annually. point being: it has not risen to 19%, the last reactor since vogtle was watts bar in 2016 and since then we've decommissioned 14 of them

The industry directly employs nearly 60,000 workers in good paying jobs

weirdly low estimate, almost by half

maintains these jobs for decades

"maintains" is doing a lot of work here, does that include toxic exposure payouts? because they are still fighting pretty hard to get those in the world's first nuclear contamination site, hanford

and supports hundreds of thousands of other workers

✅ true! 475,000 according to the NEI link above

In the midst of transformational changes taking place throughout the U.S. energy system

sure

the Biden-Harris Administration is continuing to build on President Biden’s unprecedented goal of a carbon free electricity sector by 2035

have they developed carbon free cement yet? (yes.) at scale? (no.) are we just not counting construction emissions because they're one-time emissions investments or how does this work exactly, i would love to know because i think we're also not counting emissions from waste transport to longterm storage because we haven't started doing that. anyway they've built a train for it even though we don't have a storage site so that's umm. that's uhh. fine i'm sure

while also ensuring that consumers across the country have access to affordable, reliable electric power

i guess you can still say "across the country" if you exclude texas as an outlier

and creating good-paying clean energy jobs.

i guess you can still call them good paying clean energy jobs if everybody who mines and refines the uranium dies of cancer because you just pulled out of the largest disarmament program in history due to it being geopolitically inadmissible (for russia... to continue... selling us the uranium from decommissioning...? i'm still trying to figure out the optics of that one but anyway as i have previously stated we didn't actually stop buying it in cases where it's "liable to cause supply chain issues")

Alongside renewable power sources like wind and solar, a new generation of nuclear reactors is now capturing the attention of a wide range of stakeholders

weird way to say that

for nuclear energy’s ability to produce clean, reliable energy and meet the needs of a fast-growing economy, driven by President Biden’s Investing in America agenda and manufacturing boom.

this is a carrier sentence to inject the president's name, but i would like to question which sectors of the growing economy are driving the most energy demand because i'm sure there are no nasty truths being elided there (it's computing)

The Administration recognizes that decarbonizing our power system, which accounts for a quarter of all the nation’s greenhouse gas emissions, represents a pivotal challenge requiring all the expertise and ingenuity our nation can deliver.

it's time once again for... the energy flow sankey chart! the reason the power system accounts for a quarter of greenhouse gas emissions is in no small part because 67% of it is lost to waste heat. has the nation's expertise and ingenuity started working on that yet

The Biden-Harris Administration is today hosting a White House Summit on Domestic Nuclear Deployment, highlighting the collective progress being made from across the public and private sectors

oh boy! a summit! talking about it is the same as doing it

Under President Biden’s leadership, the Administration has taken a number of actions to strengthen our nation’s energy and economic security by reducing – and putting us on the path to eliminating – our reliance on Russian uranium for civil nuclear power and building a new supply chain for nuclear fuel

gosh, i got ahead of myself and already criticized both of those things

including: signing on to last year’s multi-country declaration at COP28 to triple nuclear energy capacity globally by 2050

everybody criticized that

developing new reactor designs

which ones, the bill gates project that just got cancelled because utilities pulled out (edit: that's nuscale, the bill gates project is terrapower), the rolls royce submarine, or the one that just got regulatory approval (edit: this is also nuscale)

extending the service lives of existing nuclear reactors

yep! you sure showed the embrittlement at diablo canyon by doing nothing about it

and growing the momentum behind new deployments

nonsense clause, but it has this really ominous undercurrent due to its vagueness

Recognizing the importance of both the existing U.S. nuclear fleet and continued build out of large nuclear power plants, the U.S. is also taking steps to mitigate project risks associated with large nuclear builds and position U.S. industry to support an aggressive deployment target.

this one is not nonsense but they can't just out and out say "we are deregulating the industry because opening the process for public comment is most often the thing that slows it down" because then somebody might realize they're bulldozing ahead no matter what any constituent says, does, or actually wants

To help drive reactor deployment while ensuring ratepayers and project stakeholders are better protected, theAdministration is announcing today the creation of a Nuclear Power Project Management and Delivery working group that will draw on leading experts from across the nuclear and megaproject construction industry to help identify opportunities to proactively mitigate sources of cost and schedule overrun risk

i'm sure a revolving door working group packed with industry insiders can solve this without compromising their commitment to the profit motive, not that it particularly matters since the cost is passed on to the consumer in the form of fees on the electric bill

The United States Army is also announcing that it will soon release a Request for Information to inform a deployment program for advanced reactors to power multiple Army sites in the United States

good god... that is a fresh nightmare i did not see coming

Additionally, the Department of Energy released today a new primer highlighting the expected enhanced safety of advanced nuclear reactors

"expected" really serves to demonstrate several points i've made

i'm going to stop going line by line here because i know this is already too boring and long for anyone to read this far, unless anybody wants to know what i think about parts 50, 52, and 53 of the NRC licensing guidance -- which many of you have very clearly stated over the years that you don't -- and while i do want to acknowledge that it does go into more detail and even answer some of the questions i raised (vogtle comes up, diablo canyon comes up, a list of which SMR designs is given, or at least a list of the companies responsible for them),

what i would like to focus on is one conspicuous absence:

the reason we need a new fleet of reactors is because they are an essential part of the bomb production chain. they are the beginning of the refinement process, and we cannot carry out the plan (already underway) to replace the minutemen missiles currently in silos with sentinel missiles without significant new construction. we cannot start the president's desired wars with russia and china without the new sentinels. he's not going to be the one to carry this out, he's ensuring whoever is his successor in about 2030 or more likely 2040 will be armed to do so. limited amount of time left to prevent that

[dailycass-cain]

So on January 26th yesterday,  I looked into how the comics had Cass combat her disability in Dyslexia being not able to read and relate words vocally. 

What worked, what didn't, and which era handled the progression better.

At the very core of her very first appearance in Batman #567 by Kelley Puckett and Damion Scott, Barbara Gordon is trying to help Cassandra overcome her disability.  And it is her first words spoken that give her father David Cain pause.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #2 gives us the first look into how Cass really doesn't fully care about learning in either study instead focusing on her new vigilante life. That is until running into Robinson and learning WHY words and writing truly matter.

#5 has her run across a metahuman who has mental abilities and because of those rewires her brain to have the capacity to understand.

It's a cheap copout for sure.  But it gives Cass a voice in her mind along with the capacity to speak better.  Bad news? It screws up her abilities and how her mind was originally wired.

This leads into #6-9 basically being how Cass can get her ability to read body language and learn with the added bonus of her mind continuing to be the way it is.  Enter Lady Shiva who gives her this, but at a price aka the crux of what will lead into Batgirl #25.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #20 written by Chuck Dixon (art still by Scott). Where Cass comes to a drop man who's murdered before he can deliver a ransom. Her lack of being able to read leads her to seek out--

-- one Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler.  I think at this point the reason Cass went to Steph was that she was afraid Babs would lecture her on neglecting her reading lessons (which she would later on).

Tim Drake, she had just fully befriended (#18), but he was close to Babs. So Cass probably figured he accidentally let slip this and she'd be in trouble. Steph wouldn't she was on the outside from the Bat Family (at this time).

The issue does promise of Cass in attaining another reading teacher (which pays off in the most weirdest place, Convergence: Batgirl #1), but this plot point goes nowhere here. Cass/Steph's friendship would intensify for the next ten issues (#21, 26-28).

For the most part, we don't really get to see fully Cass try and fight her Dyslexia again until the Dylan Horrocks' run with #51 where we learn HOW Cass is expanding her word vocabulary via TV but neglecting on reading.

This bit reads its crux with the infamous #54 (i.e. the one that causes Cass/Babs to fracture away from one another).

In the issue, Cass has to deal with a killer robot that's taking out any place that has a copy of a book that has the codeword to shut it down. We learn during the fight, Cass has been neglecting her studies in reading.  Again with the infamous page:

Now Horrocks did this because he was ordered to write Babs off this title (Birds of Prey, the comic Babs was primarily in would be eventually moving away from Gotham). It was the first of that would make the writer leave the comic (and DC Comics altogether).

Regardless again the way the case rattled Cass enough to think about it all and work back into trying to read.

If there was instant positive of writer Andersen Gabrych when he began his run. He made sure this was a reoccurring plot point THROUGHOUT his run starting with #58.

By giving Cass her own diary it enables her better way to try and combat her disability. Along with in the very same issue, Cass trying to actively read a book for the first time on page.

The diary motif would be a hallmark of Gabrych's entire run with the book. So I'm not gonna post every entry. But I think that's why I really loved those first few issues because he covered ALL corners with the character. 

 You saw it all.

Never once did Gabrych use behind the issues trick. This was a struggle for Cass. I think it better helped resonate the character with readers by doing so. It also went down an angle that was different than Puckett and felt like the better next step from what was built on prior.

Course Cass would still have her bad habits of being an avid TV watcher. So the balance of her trying and struggling was a nice touch.

This came to an ironic fully circle with #67 with Babs returning (for one issue) in the comic and the pair hashing out their differences and mending. But it also reveals a further reason why Babs really wants Cass to learn to read. Again, this is probably the best reason.

She knows Cass wants to be Bruce's heir and be Batman. She knows the only way to fully be that is to get fully conquer her disability. And for the second time in her ongoing we get a look in how Cass's brain was wired from her learning from her father and the metahuman.

And we get the clearest answer how Cass's brain truly operates and why the usual methods in overcoming her disability in reading.

That's the final gift Gabrych gave us. 

A hope.

 A small faint hope that maybe Cass could learn with whatever writer would take on the character next. The only thing is even he couldn't anticipate what was to come...

Batgirl was canceled with #73 and well the next time we saw Cass and how this disability was handled came in Robin #148.

Alright, before I go into this portion. Newly minted Robin writer (this was his first issue) Adam Beechen came into comics had zero idea of the character of Cassandra Cain, other than what he was told and found.

The DC Editors on Robin did not help him or assist him. They gave him an edict... and he did that edict without question. The result....

Was this INFAMOUS page from Robin #149. Cassandra Cain the character who had the disability of Dyslexia somehow was able to learn another entire language.

That's not even going with the OTHER problem Robin OYL gave us with Cass (but that's an entirely ANOTHER issue). Regardless after the story arc, Beechen (and DC) realized just how badly he screwed up.

Course, the entirety on HOW Cass was suddenly able to learn an entire language with how her brain understood information. Yeah, this was a plot thread nobody truly wanted to answer when the retcons began dropping after Cass's "EVIL" phase to fix it.

In fact, it was Beechen himself who addressed the issue in Batgirl Vol. 2 #1 amongst the CHUNKS of well exposition and history that was the mess DC made of the character from 2006-2007.

So all those issues Babs mentioned in #67? Cass and Alfred fixed them and for the entire MISSING YEAR Cass made great strides to overcome her disability. THAT'S how she was able to understand the Navajo language.

Look I get what Beechen was doing and I also get we were NEVER gonna get the missing stories to showcase that. But to see an entire character's journey in overcoming her disability fixed overnight?

Even with Beechen giving us a classmate in Sal (who's last name we NEVER learn, and is forgettable male love interest #3 for Cass) who gives us the promise of something we never get from the Vol. 1 ongoing. Because DC was gonna DC.

That's basically it for the original run for Cass. That it was a nice harrowing journey that had its bumps but the character was making great strides to be better. Then well the road bumps began to occur and yeah...

I'll give it to Beechen that he tried at the very least to fix the holes he himself caused. But... in the format given it's just crushing how this was fully handled in the end.

Sadly we got nothing more as DC really did a meh job for about five years? We did get this little nugget in Convergence: Batgirl #1 though (somehow connecting that line from waaaaaay back in Batgirl Vol. 1 #20)...

Which is shocking of all places for Cass trying to overcome her disability, Convergence: Batgirl #1 was not the place one ever would think to find that, but we had that surprisingly.

So when Cass was "reintroduced" into the DCU with Batman & Robin Eternal. A reset was in order and writers were allowed back to square one in how to deal with Cass handling her Dyslexia disability.

I will say this for James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder on how they handle putting a metahuman with mental abilities they just slot that character in #11 by introducing the Sculptor who basically fills the same void the meta in Batgirl Vol. 1 #5 did.

Much like the original metahuman, once this link is established Sculptor nopes her way out of the story and is never heard from again.

Which kind of surprises me, because it's something I figured Tynion would maybe address during his Detective Comics run (that had Cass in it) given how much in #11 and 12 establish the character and her origins. 

But nope. Nothing further.

So yeah, after this we got James Tynion IV's Detective Comics run that had Cass in it starting from #934-981.

Not surprisingly, Tynion really handled the whole disability issue well than those in the past with the constraints he had. Even more so Juggling multiple characters in this book and going down a better avenue than his predecessors.

And that all begins with #953 with Clayface (Basil Karlo) trying to comfort Cass after learning her mom is Lady Shiva.

By doing this. Tynion lays the seeds on how he'll deal with the issue on Cass combating her disability while also cementing the hallmark of this run, Clayface's rehabilitation and friendship with Cass.

#958 we see Basil teaching Cass Shakespeare by playing audio and having her learn to read and increase her vocabulary via that.

It's probably the best thing Tynion did character-wise with Cass by briefly showing us this but fully giving us a more plausible method than prior on how to deal with her disability.

The fact that this hits throughout this arc (as Cass quotes Shakespeare at a good moment) and is carried over until the very end of his run when Cass meets Barbara in #981.

This version of Cass is actively trying to combat her Dyslexia more than her prior versions, and this Cass is actively doing a better job. Even though we don’t get much Babs teaching Cass (though they do work together in the next arc after this that sets up Batman & the Outsiders). But that run doesn’t dig into Cass’s progress instead going into other routes to touch on with the character. 

Unlike what was carried over from Batgirl Vol. 1 to 2 (and between that) Cass has a more concrete subplot here. Where we can SEE and are TOLD of her progress.

That leads us into the current Batgirls ongoing. In #1. where this is a little bit lampshaded. As Cass uses a reading bag to combat criminals to retain stuff she/Steph had that was stolen.

A further bit of subplot is continued throughout and in #4 with Cass now ACTIVELY being a bookworm and reading works of Edgar Allen Poe.

Like it astonishes me that this element of the character has remained actually consistent from point A to B. But it's a nice contrast of things that creators at DC worked on better here than prior.

And no issue highlights that fight of Cass actively wanting to combat her dyslexia then "Sounds" from DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1 by Mariko Tamaki and Marcus To.

It's why Tamaki just fully GETS the character of Cass not in every corner of the character.  Why many want the writer to handle the character again.

But Tamaki isn't the only one who did a good job in showcasing Cass fighting her disability and the one that does the best job is Shadow of the Batgirl graphic novel. Where writer Sarah Kuhn and artist Nicole Goux go both literally fighting her disability.

And her actively learning to read and increasing her vocabulary by hiding in the library was absolute perfection.

But it also is a nice avenue (and nod to the past) by focusing on a library since that's the location where Barbara Gordon teaches (and again a nice nod to that character's history too).

Quite literally...

That's another layer to why I adore that graphic novel. Just the layer of dimension to BOTH characters while it gives that nod to Babs, the story is clearly more Cass. 

 Again, Kuhn modernizes everything to perfection.

So there you have the history of Cass and her disability.  And my final gift on this day (which has now passed) to celebrate the character of Cassandra Cain.

[ryukatters]

def gojo, but also toji and maybe y’all are like competing assassins who run into eachother sometimes

⟡ word count: ~700

⟡ a/n: your brain is so big

⟡ Based on this ask

Your target is right ahead of you.

Just a few more feet, the two of you will be away from any wandering eyes and security cameras— and you’ll be in the clear to take him out with a single blow.

It’s an older gentleman— a local politician, you’ve been told, with connections to the black market. Made a few people working underground unhappy with some new laws passed. So you’ve been ordered to execute him.

You get jobs like this all the time. You don’t necessarily like what you do, but you don’t necessarily hate it either. It’s something that brings food to the table, allows you a roof over your head. Despite your unconventional career, it’s actually pretty stable, given your high success rate and gracious recommendations from satisfied clients.

Stable, as long as you’re the one actually doing the killing.

You blink once and suddenly your politician has a bullet going straight through his skull.

“You’ve gotta be faster than that, sweetheart.”

The politician’s body hits the floor with a dull thud. You hardly pay attention because all you hear is the rush of blood in your eardrums and all you can see is that annoying smirk on that stupid face of his.

Damn him.

You stomp towards Toji angrily, pointing an accusing finger into his (well-built) chest, “That was my target, you freak!”

“Was it? Well that’s too bad. Looks like you’ll have to pick up another job elsewhere,” he sneers. “Think you could make a pretty penny with those tits of yours.” He stares down at them pointedly. You feel your cheeks burn from humiliation.

“Oh fuck off, Fushiguro.”

“I’d much rather fuck you.”

Toji Fushiguro: a quick, money hungry, infamous assassin. Or, as you often call him— a pain in the ass. Your ass specifically, since he seems to have a tendency to sabotage all of your missions.

He’d argue that he simply has a penchant for pretty things, and you’re a high he has yet to come down from.

“You’re deplorable,” you spit, arms crossing over your chest. “A waste of space. Are you really so broke that you feel the need to steal someone else’s kill? Maybe you’re the one that needs to pick up a gig at the local strip club.”

Your words do nothing— they bounce off him as if he were a wall of solid steel. He might as well be. Nothing could ever penetrate Toji, physically and emotionally.

“So everyone can see the scratches you leave on my back?” He sneers, taking a step closer. He smells like sweat and cheap cologne. It’s intoxicating. “Dunno why you’re pretendin’ to hate me s’much with the way you’re creamin’ on my cock all the time.”

“Maybe because that’s the only redeeming quality you have,” you bite back. Toji merely chuckles, as if the venom spewing from your lips lacks virulence. And maybe it does.

“You’re pretty spunky today, baby. You know how much it turns me on when you put up a fight.”

You let out a growl, swinging your arm to punch him, but he’s gone from your sight before you even get the chance to land a blow. That’s the second time you’ve missed tonight.

He appears behind you before you can react.

Toji presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, relishing in the way you suppress a shiver as he leans down to his whisper in your ear, “Gotta be faster than that, sweetheart.”

You hate him. You remind yourself that every single time you see him.

“Bring that attitude with you tonight and see where that gets you,” he murmurs, allowing himself a rough nip at your jugular— a little taste of the inevitable. “You know where to find me.”

The words ring in your mind, each syllable being burned into your hippocampus with every passing second. You make quick work of delivering the corpse to your handler before you’re off to find a certain assassin.

Toji Fushiguro would ruin your life. Yet for some reason, you can’t find it in you to push him away when he calls.

[merakiui]

i’m sorry i got stuck at camboy jade

>:) camboy Jade is essentially just like camboy Azul: deranged and out-of-his-mind obsessed with you, but he's a refined level of obsessed. Whereas Azul capitalizes on the cute and frilly and everything else in between (he is an adaptable e-boyfriend hehe), Jade knows his charm points and he sticks with them. He is coy and alluring; he knows very well that he's eye candy. He keeps a well-built figure, and it's a desirable build that hundreds upon hundreds of people lust over. He makes so much money streaming. Not that he really needs it (coming from a well-off crime family definitely helps), but it does feel nice to make his own money.

Affectionately, he is a freak, so he loves stringing his chat along, loves the many eyes on him because he's in a space where he's tailored the entire hour-or-so stream to follow a semi-linear structure and so he has a fair level of control over the situation. Although he does like to surprise his viewers with things that may feel unscripted (but are actually speckled throughout his plan to boost engagement). He hates it when people observe him beyond the webcam, though, but they'll never see his face and he's not very worried. He only films from the chest down, and he'll wear a mask for anonymity's sake. Also because masks are hot LOL. Jade knows what his viewers want and he delivers. <3

Maybe you're obsessed with him and you tune into his every stream, utterly fascinated by how pretty he is, how silky-smooth his voice is when he's practically purring at the camera, how every inch of him is perfection, even down to the sweat that slides down his bare chest when he's working himself towards orgasm. T_T you are down so horrendous, and Jade takes advantage of that. At first it was just to entertain himself. You were given the opportunity to talk one on one in a private chat room with him (as he's begun to recognize your username each time you show up to his streams) and Jade offers to do a private show for you. You pay his price without hesitating.

From there, the two of you snowball into a casual friendship of sorts. He feeds your fantasies; you feed his wallet. It's a good deal, but Jade suspects you're not being entirely honest with him. If you claim to love him so much, why do you seem so against meeting him in person? Are you afraid seeing him beyond the camera will ruin whatever idealized version you've built up in your mind? Or do you not trust him? It's wrong to confess to Jade because he might get attached. It's even more wrong to confess and then stick around. Persistence is so delicious, and your loyalty has him hooked. And maybe you're starting to fall out of obsession just as Jade's falling into his. >_< either way, it's dangerous.

[myimaginarywonderland]

Maybe it's just me but something about this season of Doctor Who and the whole structure very much feels like it is set up for 3 seasons. Everything about this season and plots of Doctor Who has very much felt like the beginning to a longer season arc and I am curious if that is why they have already finished some filming because they have written it that way.

It would be interesting because we have never seen something like this before but I can not see any other explanation for the limited episodes and some of the storylines.

Here is why I believe it:

Ruby's story is starting to be told. We have sort of uncovered one side to her parentage while another is still a big question mark and both need to/feel like they will be explored. It feels like the end of this finale was clearly a set up for Ruby's actual story of family in the next season where there will clearly be some conflict (maybe her biological father doesn't want her , maybe she is confronted with the two versions of family she now has) that will be the focus of her storyline while also leaving some room for her to still be a companion. It seems very obvious to me that Ruby's story is written for maybe 2 seasons with a special as a last ride and therefore we are already going to be lightly introduced to the next companion once Ruby's story is told.

Ms Flood feels a lot like Lemony Snicket from ASOUE (the TV Show as I have never read the books.) I feel like we will continue to have her be a present point to us as the viewers in some way before the season 2 finale will finally confront her with the doctor and will give season 3 either the chance to be her story as a villain or to explore her role as morally grey character. It seems obvious to me that since the specials she was hinted at being a long term reoccurring character that is clearly part of a much bigger picture. I imagine with the end of Ruby's story will come a split where we finally get to meet Ms Flood on her own and have her actually interact with the doctor for her actual purpose.

Rogar ap Gwilliam. I know we technically had his hints resolved in 73 yards but especially now with his call back in the finale and all the hints we have had for him throughout the season, I am convinced he is going to have a bigger role in season 2. It just feels to continent to have him appear once yet still have him haunt the storyline in some way without there being more to him or his character. I could totally see him especially with his connection to Ruby be the villain or a big plot point of the second season.

Susan. With all the talk, the hints etc. there is no way we are not seeing Susan in some way/form or other. She was already hinted at in 12s run and with 15 she has been more prominent than ever. Not delivering on that, not having some kind off pay off for the suspension and conflict that now has already been built around her would be the cheapest and worst decision ever.

Sutekh. While I fairly confident he won't actually be back, we have now opened this whole can of Gods possibly influencing the story but first and foremost be real. There is clearly more to this than just his one appearance and God's as a conception will clearly return in some way, maybe even bring someone like the Trickster back to make this an ever more present fact.

All these plot points, all these characters have slowly been set in motion, have slowly begun to build up and some like Ruby are finally beginning to have their story told. But overall all of them on their own very much feel like set pieces that are waiting to be moved, like the opening for a play. It feels like we are watching all these smaller plots be developed for a much larger arc. If this weren't Doctor Who, I would have no doubt that this would be a show with 3 seasons that would end there because the structure seems so clear and obvious.

So I am definitely curious to see how this will turn out or if I am insane for this but this could not be 3 season arc any more clearer if it tried.

[tuliptiger]

Hello again! House/life update.

I am in a much better place mentally but really rather the same financially. I am currently laid off for a month seasonally since I'm still not a permanent employee. I have something in the works I'm hoping plays out so that I have a permanent position and worst case scenario I go back to work May 6th as a temp for 6 more months. I have side jobs and unemployment lined up in the mean time.

Anyway though! On to the house. Disappointing news but honest news in terms of the first contractor we hired. We still haven't gotten money back from him.

Recap: my mom and I fired him because he lied to us, charged tools on our account we up front said not to do, built a shoddy excuse of a foundation and frame for my house that we eventually had to pay our current contractor to demolish because it was so bad. It was for all definitions a different house the original contractor built. He used the wrong framing type for the blueprint and didn't even use framing nails to the city code. He wasn't even on site for 90% of the build and seemingly subcontracted it out which we didn't know.

In addition my mom is...not the best person to work with and makes a lot of mistakes. She's not a critical thinker on a lot of things. I made the mistake of asking her to help me buy land and build a house in the pursuit of escaping my generational poverty. I made the second mistake of asking her to take on individual responsibilities and not step in when the red flags started coming up.

I left her in charge of getting the money back from the OG contractor since she had all contact with him and she was originally the one who found him. That went as well as anyone could guess and she's, in summary, procrastinated doing any proper paperwork for attorneys or the contract board. I keep pushing her and she always says she'll get to it this day or that day or hits a dead end and then it goes nowhere.

This would not be a big issue but we're talking more than $20,000 he did in damages and $1,000 he directly stole from us like straight up $1,000 we handed him to do work he never did. The donations everyone has been sending in slowly are very much appreciated and remind me to keep fighting for this.

At this point I just want to get the house done so I can be done with the contractors and done with my mother. I don't want to be in this situation anymore and it's been dragged out for 3 years now. I've added pictures of where the house is at now and most of it having been done in January and February.

As the electric was finished and passed inspection I'm waiting in the HVAC and plumbing as the last things professionals must do before I can finish the house. I've started putting in flooring and the wood stove was just delivered so things are still moving.

The donations haven't covered anything large from the build but it has covered smaller things (I've used it for nails, locks for the doors, etc.) and given me strength to continue. Motivation from strangers, acquaintances and friends to not just walk away and to keep my head in the right space. I've emotionally and mentally been in a better place since I initially made the gofundme which has helped.

Anyway I've been meaning to make this for awhile and I'm sorry for the delay. I've been working my full time job before I was laid off, my side gigs, working on the house, still living out of my car and trying to work with my mother. I appreciate everyone who's been invested in this, shared it and donated. More updates will come in the future and thank you all again.

[duckietiewritestoo]

Wishing (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Do I know how to write Thomas Shelby? No. So get this cringey idea was I toying around with.

WARNINGS: Cringe, cringe, cringe, and a little bit too long.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Freedom was all I asked for. 

It was in my dreams, trapped in my mind, and rattling the cages. My wish was to leave this place behind for France or for London. I was tied to it, I wanted to tear from it. I never meant to get myself roped in with Billy Kimber. Long ago I was out on the streets, unable to shield myself from beatings and harsh nights outside. I needed help and I was desperate for anything to get it. I earned and stole the money. Kimber had the needed protection I wanted, and he provided whenever I paid him. I owed Kimber my life.

But I couldn’t keep stealing, and my jobs weren’t always steady. It wasn’t so easy to keep them with my records and dirt on my name. Eventually, I kept telling Kimber I’d pay him next month, and then the next. My debt built up.

I owed him more than my life.

Kimber said he’d pay off my debts, if I only worked for him, and did what he asked without question. He kept me in chains I dragged around with me. It kept me down, heavier than my own guilt. I did his dirty work, I took care of the people he didn’t like, and I did it with no hesitation. It took a toll on me, but I needed it, I needed my freedom. I wouldn’t be his slave for long.

I never thought of saying no. Running away wasn’t an option. He’d find me.

The night was cold and young. I sat on the sidewalk, watching the stars twinkle and shine. I waited patiently for a car to drive by. Kimber had gone for the night and locked up his office. He promised to drive me home. He never delivered on that, so I just sat on the sidewalk, watching the night sky. A few stars started shooting across the scene, streaking the black sky with paints of gold. My heart skipped a beat. It was a beautiful sight. The child in me wanted to wish on them. It was foolish, I knew that, but a little bit of wishing never hurt. So I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes, lowering my head.

“Please, I’ll make a wish for this night only. I wish to be free,” I whispered, begging the heavens. “Please, please, please, please. That’s all I’m asking for, please.”

I waited, and waited, thinking some miracle would come my way. It didn’t. My idea was truly foolish. I carried myself down the street on tired feet and my head hanging low. There was no such thing as wishing. I stood up, my eyes still on the sky. The dark clouds were rolling in quite quickly. They were storm clouds judging from their thick gray color. Rain fell down in buckets without a warning.

The Garrison was warm and dry this time of night. Tired workers and people seeking a drink came in. I was dripping wet. The pub was dimly lit, filled with laughter and chatter. I shivered from the cold, approaching the bar counter. The bartender was a bit shocked to see me, like he had seen a ghost. I must have looked awful, wet and pale, freezing to death. I sat down at the counter, the stool creaking under me. It trembled too from how badly I was freezing. My teeth chattered. It was getting worse.

A drink slid down the counter towards me. I hadn’t even ordered anything. It was a small shot glass of whiskey. I looked at the direction it came from and there sat the enemy of the man I worked for. Our eyes met and there was an electrical tension between us. His bright blue eyes burned into my soul, like he was judging me. If Thomas Shelby knew who I was, I was in deep trouble.

He got up from his chair, taking long strides for a small walk to get to me. I couldn’t break our gaze, his eyes kept locked with mine. My breath hitched, I wasn’t even breathing at this point.

“Hello.”

“Um…” He laughed. It was like honey in my ears, sweet for someone like him. My heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t be shy, I don’t bite,” he replied softly. He sat down, giving me a toothy smile. Something was up. I knew Thomas Shelby, I spied on him. I knew his tactics and his behavior.

“You don’t bite because you want something.”

“Seems you’ve learned,” he answered calmly. That smirk stayed plastered on his face. “You’re a good observer, I’ll give you that. Now tell me, what’s your real name?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Pardon?”

“I know you’re (Name), but how true is that? What lies have you spun just to protect yourself?” he asked. His hand hovered over mind, feeling the warmth of his skin. I snatched my hand away from his. Thomas laughed. “Too shy?”

“No, I’m just careful,” I replied.

“But clearly you weren’t careful enough, joining Kimber and letting your life fall perfectly apart. Let me guess, he left you in the cold after promising you a drive home?” Thomas replied, raising an eyebrow. My heart stopped. 

“How did you know?” I asked quietly. 

“Kimber isn’t the only one with spies,” Thomas replied. “Besides, you’re soaking wet head to toe, no doubt shivering to death.” He took off his coat and in one swift moment it was draped over my shoulders, weighing me down a bit. “I’m not blind, (Name), I see what’s happening. So I have an offer. Might as well tell you now, can’t keep toying with you. I have an offer.”

“Oh?” His laugh was low and soft. Thomas sat closer. The heat from the jacket was enough. I was warming up, blushing from how close he was.

“I’ll protect you at all costs for Kimber’s dirty secrets. I’ll house you, clothe you, and feed you,” he said. “All for his information on…everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything,” he replied. “I’ll keep you safe in exchange for everything on Kimber.”

I knew it was wrong, making a deal with the devil again. I couldn’t do it, yet the offer was tempting. The chains would only add on until they dragged me under, but the burden was worth it. His eyes weren’t telling me lies, yet I didn’t trust Thomas. Still, I had no other option. If he swore to protect me at all costs, then I would trust him with my life

I was provided with a guest room in Thomas Shelby’s own house. I was fed three meals a day, or whenever I felt like eating. Every evening I would spend it with Tommy, spilling Kimber’s secrets once he was finished with his dinner. As a result, the Peaky Blinders were making moves that were hurting Kimber and his business.  His family was suspicious of me, but they knew what Thomas had planned and treated me with respect.

They didn’t treat me kindly, rather more like a stranger, but I was treated with respect.

But one night it all changed. Two days in, and I was already being hunted out of fear by Kimber. Thomas did well protecting me at all costs. He kept his promise. The glass had shattered all over the place, nearly scaring me to death and I screamed. I saw it in his eyes when he came bursting through the door, his eyes filled with what seemed like genuine fear. It was quickly replaced with anger the second he was the man who had broken in.

Kimber found out I betrayed and left him for his enemy. His solution? It was to send a hired killer after me to slice my throat in the middle of the night. Or at least that’s what I assumed after seeing the knife in hand. Tommy was quick with his trigger finger. Other gang members were clearing up the scene. The light spilled in from the hallway, the shadows of his men moving back and forth. The guest room door was opened all the way. Men carried the body out, dragging the corpse across the floor. Thomas looked at me, panting. His lips were slightly parted.

“Are you okay?”

“Um…I’m a bit scared, but I’ll be fine.” Tommy sat on the edge of the bed. There was a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. 

“Sleep with the door open tonight. I’m not breaking it down again just to get to you,” he said calmly. I chuckled.

“Oh really?”

“Yes really. Now, go to bed,” Tommy replied, moving to get up. I laid back in bed. 

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Alright….Goodnight, Tommy,” I said. His gaze softened and he smiled.

“Goodnight.”

The room was dimly lit by a small candle melting its last bit of wax. Tommy sat at the opposite end of the room, his legs propped up on the desk. His blue eyes were focused intensely on the paper he read. I held my own papers in my hands, copies of fees, bills, reports, and receipts Tommy’s men stole for me. I couldn’t focus on the words. I knew they were correct bits of information, yet my mind was elsewhere.

I was bored.

A whole month in the Shelby household and I was still in the house, unable to leave this place and just go back home. I missed my bed. I wasn’t complaining about the lavish bed I had now, but I missed my home. Tommy kept me here, claiming it was to keep me safe and that Kimber’s men would be waiting for me at home. His promises felt an awful lot like Kimber’s, keeping me trapped behind windows and walls that weren’t even my own home.

Wait, that sounded wrong. 

Tommy hummed to himself, turning the paper around and it pulled me out of my thoughts. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. He gazed up at me, simply staring into my eyes. I felt embarrassed. Why was he staring at me? My cheeks reddened. 

“You’re staring,” he finally said.

“I know.”

“Why?” I put the papers to rest on my lap.

“I’m bored.”

“So?” He was not one for words. Neither was I. But I would express myself.

“I want to get out of the house, please,” I begged.

“But you know exactly the risks of leaving this house, and I am not losing my best source of information.” I scoffed. He really pulled that card out?

 “I’m suffocating in here, I need to be out there!” I paused, only for a minute. “You’re just like him…”  Tommy put his paper down. He was contemplating my words. I was too desperate. The boredom gnawed away at the back of my mind. I itched to go outside, even for a second. I had to leave. I needed to leave. 

Finally,Tommy let out a heavy sigh, almost as if the words about to leave his mouth were taking a heavy toll on him. His gaze softened, and I saw something I couldn’t place my finger on.

“Fine, but on one condition.”

“Yes?”

The horse nickered, going back and forth. The grassy ground was a few feet below me, but from this height, I felt like falling off could kill me. I gripped the saddle straps tightly to the point my knuckles turned white. I was too tense and scared to relax. This was my first time riding a horseI didn’t see how this was a condition.

“I’m not certain about this, Tommy,” I said, looking back at him. His hands firmly held my waist. The saddle was large enough for two. I asked.

 Without a word, Tommy  took the reins from my hands and urged the horse. I screamed. The horse took off, its silky mane flowing in the wind. I held on for dear life. If Kimber wasn’t going to get to me, the horse was. 

I looked back at Tommy. “Can we slow down?!” I exclaimed. Tommy laughed. He actually laughed. That was a first for me.

“Come on, live a little,” he said, grinning. That smile really fit his perfect features. I blushed. Seeing him smile made my heart flutter. He was happy. Was this real? Or was it in my head?

The cold wind in my face told me otherwise. I was wide awake, riding a horse with Thomas Shelby.

So, I decided to let go. Because, why not?

I extended my arms, letting the wind brush by. I laughed out loud, starting to smile. I could see why Tommy was enjoying this. I felt alive. Tommy kept his hands holding me tight so I wouldn’t fall off.

The horse ran on for miles, passing by trees and bushes. The field was empty and it wasn’t quiet. I was laughing too hard. And Tommy laughed harder.

Eventually he had to breathe for air.

The horse slowed down, finding solace in the middle of the field. Tommy and I got off, resting in the grass. I leaned against his shoulder. The breeze flowed through the grass, shaking it gently.

“Thank you,” I muttered, looking up at Tommy. He lit a cigarette, sticking it between his teeth. He took in a long drag before releasing it.

“Anytime, darling,” he said, smirking. “If you ever need to leave the house for any reason, call me. I’ll do this again.” I blushed. That was considerate of him. He was willing to take me out again? Really? I smiled, hugging his arm. I leaned in and pecked his cheek.

“Thanks, Tommy. You’re a wish come true.” He scoffed.

“Oh, I wish that were true.”

[princesscolumbia]

Code of Ethics - Chapter 46 - Ye Canna Change the Laws of Physics!

Our hero, having defeated writer's block, returns with an ambition to provide tons of fictiony goodness with a new chapter.

Diane's presence on the ship doesn't just mean that she's on site to clear orders that might have otherwise required a high-speed FTL comms call, she's also an extra pair of hands when the situation goes pear shaped.

Preview below the cut:

The tactical officer’s voice crossed the bridge in the manner of someone desperately seeking to not deliver bad news, “Sir...we don’t have energy weapons.”

Everyone whose attention wasn’t focused on the task of keeping them ahead of their pursuer was suddenly paying tactical very close attention.

“Say that again?” Jace asked skeptically.

“We’ve got the slugs, the bearings, and the macron canon, but all the energy weapons are reading offline and refusing to clear the pre-fire testing.”

Jace frowned and Diane could see him running his tongue along his teeth behind his cheeks in some sort of tic. He tabbed one of the buttons on the arm of his chair and called, “Engineering, what’s going on with the weapons?”

A young woman’s voice came through the speaker on the captain’s chair, “Every solder on the energy weapons bank melted! It’s substandard solder that wasn’t rated for this kind of job!”

Jace’s left eyelid twitched, “...eta on a repair?”

“I’m short staffed, captain! We’re supposed to get the rest of the crew tomorrow after WE’VE TESTED EVERYTHING BEFORE DOING SOMETHING STUPID LIKE GOING INTO BATTLE!” An accent Diane couldn’t place started overtaking the normal North-American English intonations the woman had been using up to that point. “I can keep the engines going or I can fix the damn solder joints!”

Jace’s frown deepened, “What’s wrong with the engines?”

“Oh, nothing that a normal shakedown cruise wouldn’t have found and been able to handle so we could fix the intermix and tune the dampers once we got back to port nice and safe, you know, SHAKEDOWN CRUISE STUFF!”

If the situation weren’t so dire, the chief engineer’s ranting at the captain would have been funny. “I’ll go down there,” said Diane as she took off her jacket and stowed it in the secure cubby built into her commander’s station, “I’ve soldered a joint or two in my time.”

Jace immediately looked at least a little relieved, “Thank you commander! Y’hear that, J’Jesi? Help’s on the way.” He clicked off on the comms link and nodded gratefully to Diane, “To use the somewhat archaic term, godspeed, Commander.”

“God’s speed is always welcome, captain,” she answered with a wry grin as she stepped through the hatch to the rest of the ship.

Read the rest on Scribblehub

[astraljedi]

Bewitched (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC

Author's note: This is a re-upload of an old fic/idea I posted months ago and rewrote. If you have any requests for anyone in the dagger squad, request are always open! Also, this is pure fiction, this isn't going to be 100% accurate and it's just for fun. Enjoy!

This is basically an enemies to lovers fic. It will contain a lot of smut, angst, mention of death, and spoilers for the Top Gun movies.

Warnings: Just some cursing and fighting. Spoilers for both movies.

Many people knew who Sadie was and the well-known family name she carried. When Sadie was a child, she was her dad's little shadow. Tom always had a feeling that Sadie would follow in his footsteps just by the way her face would light up every time they arrived at the base. How she always paid attention to him when he explained anything about the planes and the power they carried.

And on the weekends, after Sadie had all her homework done, her parents would let her join her Godfather, Pete, to work on his project plane. In the end, if the hard work paid off, Pete would take her on a quick little joy ride while the sun sat. Sadie cherished those moments with Maverick, he wasn't able to be with her every weekend working on the planes because of work, but when he had the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to let Tom know he would stop by to pick her up. 

Even though most people knew Sadie from her father and her close relationship with Pete, she built her current reputation by herself.

Sadie was determined, carefree, and maybe too charismatic. She was the type who would make anyone feel welcome and part of a team. She wasn't all about letting someone feel left out of the group. And everyone loved her; it was impossible not to. But, like her godfather, Sadie could be reckless, and, Sadie always craved the need for adrenaline. 

When Sadie got called in for TOPGUN, she wasn't surprised. She knew the type of pilot she was and that her hard work was paying off. The little girl who always hid behind her father's figure would've been jumping in excitement like a lunatic. She wanted to make that little girl proud. 

"I'm going to TOPGUN," Sadie announced to Pete suddenly while at his garage one Saturday morning. Maverick was visiting for a few days before he had to leave again for a mission to Iraq. But she needed to see him and deliver the news in person before leaving later that day. Maverick's eyes widen, immediately pulling her into a hug. "I hope you and dad could be there for my graduation."

"Me too, kiddo."

On Monday, Sadie arrived, and there were a few people with their claimed seats chatting away in different groups. "That's Iceman's daughter over there." Sadie turned her head to see a dark-haired woman pointing her out to the two other guys in the group.

"I heard a rumor from someone that she broke into the control tower after hours and threw a graduation party after the ceremony." One of the boys mentioned. 

"C'mon, Coyote. Do you believe those stupid rumors?" The woman spoke again, chuckling at Coyote. "But, if it's true and I had her last name, I would've done the same or worse." 

"I also heard some captains and other lieutenants are placing bets on who will end up top of the class," Coyote began. "You think you can beat Iceman's daughter, Hangman?" Coyote said, mocking Hangman.

"Oh, please." Hangman scoffed. "We all know she's here because who's going to turn away Iceman's daughter?" 

"I'm here because of the same reason all you are. I'm a damn good pilot." Sadie interrupted, standing in front of Hangman. "It's okay to admit you're intimidated, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you." 

Hangman chuckled, causing the little wooden toothpick between his lips to fidget. "I like you already," Hangman announced, patting Sadie's petite shoulder before grabbing a seat on the table next to her. "Let's see if that ego stands a chance up in the air." 

"Hi, I'm Phoenix, by the way." The black-haired woman introduced herself, extending her palm to Sadie's. Phoenix completely ignoring Hangman's last comment about Sadie. 

"I'm Hex, and you must be Coyote." Sadie chuckled at Coyote.

"Why do they call you Hex?" Coyote asked timidly, grabbing a seat next to Hagman.

"You'll find that out later," Sadie smirked. Phoenix patted the empty chair, gesturing to Sadie to sit down right next to her.

 “It’s nice having another woman here, too much testosterone in one place”. Sadie looked around the class full of unfamiliar faces, except one. She recognized that face from a picture Maverick had framed in the garage of Bradley’s graduation from the Naval Academy. Her dad mentioned something about his relationship with Maverick, but she never had the whole story. She did ask Maverick once about him, curious why he had Bradley's picture in his garage but never talked about him. Maverick gave her a vague answer, but she didn't push more on the topic once she saw his eyes flooded with tears. 

“That’s Rooster over there, he’s tense but he’s one of the good ones,” Phoenix whispered, noticing Sadie’s staring. “You’ll like him.” 

Rooster looked up from his hands, a bit nervous, only to meet Sadie’s stare. Embarrassed about getting caught, she turned her attention to the front of the class to the empty podium. “I’m not sure about that,” Sadie muttered to herself as the class was ordered to stand. 

After the little introduction from their instructor, the teams headed out to grab the rest of their gear and head out to their planes. The first day was nothing but relaxing. Phoenix and Hex were paired in the same group against Hangman for the first round of dog fighting. But with no surprise, Phoenix and Hex managed to take down Hangman's plane and his ego with it. "Oh, I like flying with you, Hex," Phoenix confessed once they were on land again. 

"Hex, you'll be the target this time against Rooster and Hangman after the next team lands." The instructor informed Sadie, looking up from his clipboard. Hex nodded, heading back to her plane. 

"Give 'em' hell, Hex!" Phoenix shouted at her before Sadie made it back to her F18. 

Up in the air, Hangman and Rooster were bickering, Hangman teasing him about his call sign and whatnot. "Hangman, do you see her?" Rooster asked, trying to change the subject while looking around for the target. 

"Is she even here?" Hangman groaned impatiently. He was still bitter from the previous round.

"Been here the whole time, boys." Hex chuckled as her plane flew up vertically between the two planes. A little trick she picked up from Maverick.

"Jesus!" Rooster shrieked, not expecting her to come from below them. 

"Are you guys done gossiping? or do you need a little more time before I take both of you down?" Hex gloated, disappearing from their sight again. Hex lays low and far from them. Hex preferred to stay low on her target; she liked to sneak up on them. Especially when they only looked up and to their sides. 

"Gloating doesn't look good on you, sweetheart," Hangman replied, signaling something to Rooster. "How about a bet? Whoever loses, buys the winner's drinks for the whole night." 

"It's a deal, blondie," Hex didn't hesitate at the chance of a good bet. Increasing her speed, Hex flew away above the pilots, catching them off guard again. "You just made a deal with the devil." 

Hangman increased his height and speed, leaving Rooster behind without a word. And that was Hangman, who never knew how to work as a team. Rooster increased his speed, following Hangman but staying below him. "Hangman, she's on your nose." Rooster was a team player; he liked playing it safe and sticking to the rules. And now, he was stuck with the most competitive duo on the air. 

"Oh, I see her," Hangman smirked, his fingertips leveling the lock on her plane. "I don't drink the cheap beer, by the way," Hangman said, a bit too cocky. When Hangman was about to lock, Hex increased her speed and lowered altitude just enough to pass underneath Hangman's plane by the hair, leaving his aircraft shaking unexpectedly. Hangman cursed loudly, losing his focus from the turbulence. Hangman cursed under his breath, ascending the plane, and leaving Rooster behind. 

Before Rooster could react, he lost her from his sight once again. Rooster looked down; all he saw was the blurry terrain underneath them. It was a bit too quiet. Hex tried to maintain the same speed as Rooster, camouflaging herself upside down from his plane. "Rooster, I think you should do a little maintenance underneath your plane." Hex chuckled, Rooster's eyes darting back down. Hex flew from underneath him and switched to the top of his plane, upside down still. "Bye, Rooster." Hex waved at him. Rooster glared at her, his cheeks turning red from the growing anger, recognizing the little trick she was pulling off.

Rooster was about to increase his altitude, but Hex swooshed underneath him twice. Hex spun around his plane, putting him in a trance. After the third spin, she pulled the brakes, jerking her plane right behind him while he was still looking for her underneath him. Hex centered the target on Rooster's plane and locked it successfully on him. "And that's a hit." 

"Fuck!" Rooster cursed loudly, hitting the cockpit's glass. 

Hex couldn't help but smirk; she got under his skin. But, she didn't forget about Hangman, how he completely flew away and left his wingman alone. Leaving Rooster with his loss, Hex increased her altitude again and searched for the remaining aviator. 

"Rooster, do you have a sighting of Hex?" Hangman asked through the com but was met with silence instead. "Rooster?" He called again while Hex successfully slipped underneath his plane as she did with Rooster. 

"He's dead, Hangman." Hex said, switching her plane right side up. Hangman didn't even have a clue she was so close to him. Hex mocked him. The plan was going smoothly, and Hangman didn't suspect a thing. 

Hex spun around his plane twice the same way she did with Rooster. Hangman pulled the brakes as she aligned her plane to his nose before she dipped underneath him swiftly and settled behind him. The dial tone from the lock blared like crazy through Hangman's plane and the radio back at the base while he was in a complete daze about what had happened. He didn't even have a moment to react to her maneuvers. "By the way, I don’t drink cheap beer, Hangman."

After landing back at base, everyone else was already changing from their gear into their casual clothing to head out for the afternoon. Some were tired, but others were ready to head out to the bar after a long day. Especially Hex, she was craving those beers Hangman owed her. 

Surrounding the pool table at The Hard Deck, Hangman handed Hex a second beer while the group chatted about Hex's trick during the exercise. "So that's why they call you Hex," Coyote announced before taking a sip of his beer.

"It's like getting them under a spell, bewitched," Hex added, taking a sip from her beer, which tasted like a sweet victory. Sadie looked around the bar searching for Rooster and spotted him on the porch that led to the beach behind the bar. "I'll be right back." 

Phoenix and Coyote watched her walk outside where Rooster was moping around the patio outside. "Was it just me that sensed tension between those two earlier?" Coyote speculated, looking at Phoenix. 

"I sensed it, but I didn't want to say anything," Phoenix confirmed his suspicions as they watched Rooster and Hex’s interaction from inside the bar.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hex asked, her palms gripping the neck of the beer bottle. 

Rooster gulped down his beer and didn't turn around to look at her. "I'm fine," Rooster stated dryly towards her. 

"Why are you mad?" Sadie probed, stepping in front of him to catch his eyes. His tall figure shadowed her, hiding from the curious eyes of her new pilot friends in the bar. His eyes were blank, lost and he didn’t dare to look at her. He kept his eyes glued to the waves behind her. "Rooster, please." 

"I don't like you, and I don't want to get to know you. Can you get that through your brain?" Rooster snapped, slamming his beer bottle to the wooden table at his right. "You are a dangerous pilot! Eventually, you'll get someone killed with your stupid tricks."

"What is wrong with you?" Hex raised her voice, pushing her index finger to his hard chest. "I came out here because I truly wanted to be friends, especially if we're going to be here for the next nine weeks in training," Hex added, pushing him again. "You can mope around and play the victim or grow a pair of balls and act like a decent person because newsflash, buddy, you're going to see and hear about me for the rest of your life,"

Rooster was stunned as he watched her walk back inside the bar. “He’s such an ass.” Sadie cursed, taking a sip from her beer as the group of pilots stared at her confused. 

“I can handle nine weeks”, he tried to convince himself. Rooster hoped he didn't have to see her again. She acted so much like Maverick; she needed to be reckless and always have the last word, like him. 

For the following weeks, Hex avoided Rooster around the base and at the bar. She didn't even look at him, but he looked at her the whole time. Her presence pissed him off. He worked hard to get where he was, even when Maverick backtracked his career for about four years by pulling his papers. And she, the one who had everything handed to her, also had to have TOPGUN. 

Needless to say, the following weeks were going to be long for the whole team. 

There wasn't a doubt that Sadie would end up being top of her graduating class at TOPGUN with her astounding skills. She wanted her father and Maverick to be proud of her, but without them, she wouldn't have found her true calling. Also, she wanted to see Hangman's face when they announced her name instead of his. 

Unfortunately, Maverick was still deployed and couldn't make it to her grad ceremony, but he managed to deliver some flowers back to her parent's house. But deep down, she knew it wasn't the best for Maverick to be present, especially with Rooster graduating third in his class. Or would have it been better? 

[missdrummond]

Album 78 reaction part 2

So last week the episode made me feel disappointed and I couldn't pin point precisely why.

So I'm like let's look at what has happened before. Episode 100 for example, I've listened to it recently. There is a really good core to it, with a sweet lesson. However, there's also some corny bits and parts I don't like, but ultimately I wouldn't have been disappointed with an episode like ice fishing.

So then I asked why that is, if Ice Fishing isn't a better episode why is it a better milestone episode. My ultimate conclusion was that it had an ending. It built up everything that it had promised then delivered. Kris-Crossed part 1 was mostly just set up for the next episode, leaving the stand alone product only introducing some interesting concepts but not packing a real punch. It felt so lacking with Chris basically only being able to say see you next week and remember lying is bad kids. Which felt unfair to complain about since that's just the nature of how part 1s work, but that fact didn't really make me feel better about it. I wished it'd been a really tight one parter instead preferably with strong theme or a novel concept.

All of that stemed from the idea that that the 1,000th episode should ideally be a marker, a place to stop and breathe, a high five after climbing a mountain, but discussing it with a friend completely flipped the scrip for me. She (not an AIO fan just really good at media literacy) said she liked the idea of it being a two parter because it was like saying this isn’t the end of the journey. By virtue of it being a one of two it represents one of the show's major motifs, "keep listening." Which was just so poetic that suddenly all the set up felt like it said so much.

I wrote all of the directly prior to listening to the episode. Here's the reaction:

I forgot how obnoxious the guy who won the art contest sounds. He sounds like he should be a character in Animaniacs

The Egg has been scrambled

A Ninja! I didn't catch that last time

Wow that apology was quick! And Morrie expressed himself really well. This character growth is really paying off.

Alright but only skilled googling no hacking

Yes. Yes it is. Way to go building am actual friendship

I didn't even think her faking her disability was even an option on the table. I'm glad they didn't go in that direction.

*Gasp* oh no! she's a... theater kid

Is he a photographer or just a guy with a phone?

Are school newspapers really this connected to eachother?

Whit does not pay for Netflix

"You can't be any worst than your brother." Owch

Cooper only gets in one guest at a time on his golf pass

Why would she get the award?

Wasn't the award already given?

Wow the police must have been really hassling her why is she so mad?

Ooh she doesn't like kids

A plot and B plot connection!

So Phil watched a movie and was like "yes. That I want to write that." ... ... mood.

Ok but wouldn't you be able to tell if the egg smasher was a child?

Oh duh Jellyfish, not Jellyfish did it.

Will amateur detectives PLEASE stop confronting your suspects with accusations it makes me so scared. Please tell me there is another adult at this golf course.

Ok but does Jellyfish Anthony really hate Emily?

Ok good it was Judge Jones.

Again how can she get top prize after it's been awarded?

Morrie quoting Mr. Whittaker was sweet

Wow there really isn't a lot of run time left

Burke!!!!

Wow I really thought they were going to let the criminal get away with it. At least for now.

Good for Kris!

Suzu what did you do! Don't "really?" me. What did you do?

This ending is brilliant! This is so messed up! Suzu lying and stealing in order to get her happy ending and it worked!

Morrie's literal come to Jesus moment is working. Jimney Cricket is doing his job

🎵And voice of truth tells me a different story🎵

Aahhhhhh! TBH I still wasn't fully sold on that episode untill the ending. Boy-howdy that ending was good.

[kosher-martian]

Ain't got no use for AI.

Look, I get it. I work in IT (if indirectly), but I think we need to kill this AI thing in its crib before it results in a majority of the US workforce doing back-breaking non-automatable jobs for pittance.

My job is 70% procurement and 30% e-waste disposal.

My job exists because:

Our procurement software has a UI that I would describe charitably as "openly hostile".

Far too many employees have access to the procurement software.

The finance department does not hold regular trainings on how to use the software and there's no process to notify finance of new employees who have been granted procurement access so the new employees can be trained.

Until recently, there was nothing built into the software to stop people from buying things with money they don't have or that is allocated to other projects. (A janitor could buy a high-spec Mac Studio using another department's money or simply not pay for it after it arrives.) Technically "not paying" is still very much an issue I have to solve.

Until recently, there was nothing built into the software to stop people from buying things without approval. After a few high-profile issues, we finally broke down and bought a plugin to correct this issue.

There is nothing built into the software to prevent people from buying devices that do not comply with our standards or are wildly inappropriate for their work tasks. (Secretaries getting high-spec gaming PCs just because they had the money in their budgets.)

Until I pointed it out, there was no policy in place to divert newly-delivered IT equipment to the IT department for set up and endpoint management. Until I pushed for a policy change, IT equipment could (and often would) be purchased and delivered directly to the department unmanaged or in a few cases a less-scrupulous employee's home address for personal use.

Our inventory system is arcane and there are a sum total of three people with access to it. And that's the system we primarily use for IT lifecycle management!

All of these things could be fixed by just buying better procurement software, let alone procurement software enhanced by AI. The only reason my employers haven't liquidated me is because right now the annual cost of having a human clean up all the human errors caused by the cheap lousy software they bought is still lower than the annual cost of software that would prevent the human errors from happening in the first place. But for how long?

What about all the jobs AI is already taking? All the writing and editing and media production jobs that simply won't exist because it was easier to let a machine do it? (Ignore that all the CGI people have four thumbs and 12 toes, human. Watch our slop content and enjoy it! You aren't worth real art.)

All the marketing jobs that will be liquidated because the algorithm knows us better than we know ourselves. Where are they supposed to go?

What about all the programmers and developers being laid off because ChatGPT does a decent enough job and if you lower our expectations enough, people will just accept a lousy app to purchase their burritos and yell at the human driver when the burrito is wrong?

Where are these people (and many, many more) supposed to work?

We closed the factories. We didn't find new high-quality jobs for the factory workers, did we?

All the factory workers went to work in low-paying retail and service economy jobs. Oh wait, they've been laid off from those jobs too because we had to have self-checkout and self-service kiosks and now entire Dollar Generals are staffed by one employee.

Drive a taxi? Sorry that was replaced by sharing your car with strangers (Uber). Oh no wait sorry, the self-driving cars are taking that too.

Call centers? We shipped those overseas and then shuttered them because a phone tree with a realistic human voice and intentionally vexatious wait times will take care of the pesky callers.

Gig work? If AI hasn't taken them already, they will soon.

Agricultural work? Slaves Prison labor will replace that soon enough (and frankly prison laborers will likely also take many other menial tasks like package delivery or fulfillment warehouse jobs soon)

Again, what are the vast majority of people on this earth supposed to do? Because if you think we're getting UBI in the US, you are deluded.

When the car replaced the horse as the primary means of transportation and other machines took the place of horse labor, the population of equines declined. They weren't needed anymore.

Between 1915 and 2006/7 the horse and mule population declined 63.07% in the United States. The US equine population in 1915 was 26,493,000 (horses and mules). In 2006, the United States had around 9,500,000 horses (1), and the United States Census of Agriculture for 2007 (table 31) counted 283,806 mules and burros (2).

And while the horse population has rebounded in the years since, it's because of enthusiasts wanting to breed more horses for entertainment and luxury purposes.

No one found the horses new jobs when the horse jobs disappeared. We simply stopped breeding horses. (And that's assuming, charitably, that we didn't juice the decline by culling the horse population.)

When our jobs disappear, do you think our overlords will just keep us around? I mean sure we're taking care of the population problem for them (a little too well actually, thus the anti-abortion laws), so they likely won't turn us into glue.

They'll still need people to fix the machines when they break and to continue building and creating better and better AI and machines to take care of their every whim.

And they'll need some people to do all the work the AI and robots cannot do yet.

And they'll want people for entertainment and luxury: Actors, singers, athletes, and playthings they can use as they please.

But ultimately what all these "tech-bros", "technocrats", "effective altruists", and "techno-progressivists" really really want is world that caters exclusively to their needs and all the inconvenient people who have needs of their own are swept into the recycle bin and discarded without a second thought. All problems are easily solved when you eliminate all the people:

Littering? No people, no litter. You, glorious techno-overlord, would never litter.

Climate Change? Less people, less carbon. You'll still be here, though, don't worry my liege!

Economy? The robots do all the work you used to have to pay people to do. And all the profits go to you, sire!

Taxes? LOL you don't have to pay taxes. Taxes are for the peasants.

You get my point.

The techno-overlords are tired of negotiating with us because they don't believe they should have to. We aren't their equals, if they even consider us human. They need some of us to do their bidding and some of us to keep around to torture and dominate to make them feel like gods. Beyond that, the rest of us are just excess people breathing up all the air.

AI has to go, not because the AI itself is dangerous, but because the people whom the AI ultimately serves have told us time and time again who they really are. It's time for us to believe them. We know their vision for the world, and it's a world without us. 1. This figure comes from a report by the Food and Agriculture Organization of the UN and is often cited in writings about horse population decline, but I could not locate the actual report on their website.

2. https://agcensus.library.cornell.edu/census_parts/2007-united-states/

[monsterspet]

Just a Little Lie: Prologue

Think about it: Imagine a reader that meets the boys of 141 as a “civilian”. They don’t want to run off yet another man that finds them intimidating because of their military background. So they act dumb, assuming they can keep their career secret at least long enough to make a go of this new situationship. Until it gets them into trouble once they’re assigned to a new taskforce.

A/N: I know Ghost and Soap only show up from MW2 onwards - just let me have this!

Keeping this deliberately vague until character specific chapters start. Think of it like a dating sim where you choose your route after the prologue I guess 😛

Also I can almost guarantee setting up the context for this here in the prologue is going to be so much longer than chapters going forward - I apologise in advance darlings!

*All* Y/Ns in my fics are GN! unless requested otherwise - pet names inbound but nothing specifically gendered. Slow burn - eventual smut. Canon Typical Violence starting from Chapter 1.

Word Count: 3925

MINORS: DNI (I swear to god)

—-

It had been going on for maybe three or four months now. And almost a month at least of back and forth banter over text, of coffee dates and dinners when his schedule allowed. A month of thinly veiled flirting and touches that could almost be taken as friendly as you got to know each other. Or, as you got to know him anyway. He’d been upfront that his work was in some way attached to the military (most likely an active service member), and while you knew he couldn’t really discuss more - he didn’t know you knew that. So with a look of awe and confusion you’d been innocently fishing. Purely innocent of course.

When you initially met at the cafe round the corner from your flat you didn’t know he was a fellow soldier. Which is precisely how you had gotten to this point. Perhaps if you had known you could have avoided the pretence and half truths you’d fed him with a head tilt and a smile. You couldn’t find a man within your own unit, that was beyond unacceptable for multiple reasons. And far too often you found yourself opening up to someone new when on your brief stints of leave only for him to go quiet and disappear once he knew you could handle a knife. Or a gun, or even a grenade if need be. Completely understandable in hindsight - though no less disheartening in the moment once you realised messages were either being left unread or in some cases blocked from delivering. So you found yourself wanting to get to know this new guy first, at least a little while before dropping the proverbial bombshell on him.

He was well built, that’s for sure, and held himself in a rigid posture that you should have noticed right away from your own days standing to attention in front of your captain. But his eyes caught yours instantly when you met - a startling intensity that held you rooted to the spot as you both reached for the same cup sitting on the counter that afternoon. You hadn’t been paying much attention in fairness. Far too caught up in a conversation that was clearly going nowhere fast, and somehow too in your phone to even realise that you weren’t the only patron waiting for your drink in the quiet shop. Hands collided and you found your eyes darting from the cup up to his face, apologies rushing out of your lungs as you lost your breath suddenly, barely managing a pathetic “Oh”.

“Sorry Y/N, machine is acting up - still waiting on your shots.” you vaguely heard from the older woman behind the bar, sounds a little muffled against the sound of your own heartbeat.

“No, not at all! Was away with the fairies I think.” a quick glance back to the mystery man in front of you “Apologies sir”.

“No problem, Y/N was it?” The last part came with a chuckle that sent an embarrassing tingle down your spine, barely contained by the tension you were still holding in your shoulders.

You couldn’t remember quite how the conversation had gotten started from there. But you did learn that he was also a regular to this little spot as you took up a seat near the draughty doorway. It was frankly surprising how you’d both missed each other up till this point really. It was a totally friendly chat about the quality of the cafe for the low price, and some of the other places to eat and drink around the local arena, but it was nice. Comfortable even. If you hadn’t received a call from your captain to check in on you while you were on leave you’d have stayed longer. You honestly didn’t expect to see him again as you stepped out to take the call, and it seemed he had places to be given the way he looked down at his own phone. Yet there he was when you walked in only a few days later. You aren’t even sure now who joked that you should swap numbers if you were going to keep bumping into each other like this, but you’re glad it happened.

—-

And that was how it started. A quick message from one of you to say you were out and about that day, and a reply from the other to suggest either your cafe or somewhere else to catch up. A text to say you’d gotten home safe after seeing him for an hour or so (at his insistence), followed by at least a dozen texts talking about the fun you had seeing each other and how you needed to do this again. Questions asking when you’d each be free next - and total understanding that work got in the way and you might be away for a few days from you both. You were purely on a first name basis, and you were comfortable with that. Work began picking up again and you hadn’t assumed he would be anything but a casual friend. No need to get too attached in your line of work. Especially if your prior romantic endeavours were any indication.

A data analyst, that’s what you’d decided to tell him when he asked about your work almost a fortnight after meeting him. You were called into different places as part of a rolling contract so you were never sure exactly where you were heading next. And it wasn’t too far off from the truth in all honesty. You’d always been skilled with computers and your ability to notice patterns in seemingly nonsensical data sets had been noticed not long after you enlisted. While you were trained for the front lines, you quickly found yourself pulled back by your superior officers at the academy. A sergeant for sure, but you often found yourself behind a screen coordinating units and monitoring traffic from the other side. Not too much of a stretch to some sort of number jockey in an office somewhere you felt. And you were certainly starting to enjoy this new man’s company. No need to scare him off. Though as time went by you were quickly coming to the realisation that very little seemed to faze him.

You thought about telling him, truthfully. You had been sitting on an admittedly damp bench outside a kebab shop late one evening, both of you back in late from work and neither of you in the mood for anything other than quick and greasy food. He beat you to the punch though. And oh how it sent you spinning as you realised what you were getting yourself into.

“So, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he paused as he shovelled in another mouthful of donner meat with one of those crappy little wooden sporks, “about what I do for work I mean”. You were caught a little off guard, having been waiting for a moment to come clean yourself, your own spork full of curry covered chips halted precariously half way between the styrofoam container and your mouth.

“Yeah? You’ve been a little vague on that one” you murmured after a short pause, quickly blowing on your food and taking a bite as it threatened to fall off the disposable utensil. You got a small “hmph” and a nudge from his thigh for that one, a cheeky smirk falling into place for both of you. He had mentioned travelling for work himself, and combined with some oddly familiar tendencies he was showing, you had a gnawing feeling that you knew where this was going.

“Well yeah, I can only apologise for that. Didn’t really know how to bring it up.”

“You make it sound like you do something scary when you say it like that. What are you, some sort of assassin for hire?” The joke earned you a half-hearted glare and a full but playful shove from his shoulder, sending you too far to the edge of the bench as you slid across the wet surface. The size difference was most notable in moments like these - this wasn’t the first time he almost sent you flying in playful moments when he pushed you around.

“Oh shit, sorry” he linked a quick finger into the belt loop of your jeans and hauled you back next to his side with ease before you even had the chance to begin to topple over in what would have been a hilarious fall into a cold puddle.

“Really though, I didn’t want to scare you off when we were getting on so well, but I’ll be off for work again and gone for a while soon enough. Didn’t want you to think I was ghosting you or something.” The quirk of his lips as he mentioned that last part gave you the feeling that there was meant to be an inside joke there, but nothing you could place. “I’m involved in some military shit, and I’m shipping out in a few days. Only getting a few days break then back at it again.”

“Military?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that the surprise in your voice could be played off as you recovering from your near tumble, “Should’ve guessed I suppose. Normal guys aren’t built like you unless they’re in the gym 24/7, and I take up far too much of your free time for that” poking your spork into his upper arm as if to indicate what a brick wall it was. The joke seemed to disarm him somewhat as he broke into a wide open-mouthed grin, his tongue pressing against his upper canine in the way you had come to realise meant he was trying not to laugh.

“That you do Y/N. Between that and all the food we eat it’s lucky I fit in my uniform.”

“You suggested the kebab shop, I could have been convinced to cook tonight.”

“Oh? I could have had you cooking dinner for me tonight? I’m devastated.”

You turned your face away quickly at that, the way you always did when the flirting became a little too obvious. Internally though, your mind was reeling. Fuck. While he may have been a little vague on his profession he hadn’t outright lied, you had. The idea of admitting that to him felt like a terrible idea right now. The moment was nice, and you were hardly about to ruin it by telling him you were a soldier.

But the pieces were clicking into place. The way he stood ramrod straight next to you as you placed your order, shoulders back and chest out with his hands clasped at the small of his back. The way he kept his eyes moving around as he surveyed the drunken uni students stumbling into the kebab shop behind you. They way he almost jumped out his own skin when a car had backfired in the next street over as you found a place to sit, moving in front of you as he searched for the source of the noise, head practically on a swivel. This man had seen combat.

Not a part of your squad though. There was no way you would have missed him if you had spotted him out in the field or in the barracks. No way in hell. This was fine, wasn’t it? If you weren’t on the same team then nothing had to change, not really. Your work was classified, sure, but if you explained that then really nothing had to stop here. Couldn’t be counted as fraternising if you didn’t actually work together.

You realised you were being too quiet though, too caught up in your thoughts, and you could feel his hot stare on you as if expecting you to find a reason to bolt. Quickly turning back to look up at him and tilting your head in just the right way that your hair fell in front of your face you said, “I’m not sure dragging back an attractive military man to my flat for dinner is the best idea,” the way he froze in that moment had you quickly continuing “especially only a few days from shipping out. I can’t imagine giving you something to be distracted about while you’re meant to be working is the best idea.” That one was certainly a home truth. Far too often he had been in your mind at the most inopportune moments behind your screen lately. The pause felt like it was stretching on into eternity, and you really worried you pushed too far over whatever invisible line you had both drawn between the two of you.

“You say that like you haven’t been enough of a distraction already Y/N.” the softness in his voice had you breathless. His food sat on his lap, held so loosely in his grip that you were sure it was going to spill onto the cobbles at your feet. Fuck indeed. You could feel the words rising up in your throat the way a sob would, desperate to get out that you understood far too well what he meant. That your captain had been ready to pull you aside after one too many daydream towards the end of a meeting. But the words caught and you couldn’t say a thing, not when he went back to stabbing mindlessly at his rapidly cooling food. Not when he was already being far more open and raw than anyone else had been in such a long time.

There wasn’t much more said between you as you ate, stolen glances between you conveying more than words could in that moment. Something was brewing between you both tonight that was clouding the air, thick tension that seemed all too easily snapped if you so much as breathed too loudly. Something had changed in just a few words that was sending you down a new path in whatever this was. Casual friends didn’t find themselves staring at each other from the corner of their eyes, that much you knew. All too quickly you found yourselves finished with your food and walking down the road to your flat, and you had barely spoken more than a few words to each other in that time. Any chance you had of telling him tonight flew out the proverbial window and was replaced with a sinking thought that you should have done so earlier.

“Well then,” you hated the way that your voice practically croaked its way out of your throat as you stood outside the door to your building, “I guess unless either of us get called in early we’ll need to meet up again before you ship out.”

“Of course. It’s uh, it’s getting late though I suppose. Going to leave you here and get back to mine.”

“Yeah, absolutely. I had fun again tonight, by the way.” Practically a whisper against the wind. His hands twitched at his sides, the way they would as if wanting to reach out and grab something, stopped only by great effort if the way his jaw clenched was any indication.

“You did?” A deep breath and a near shuddering exhale.

“I always do when I’m with you.” Your hand came up to rest on his arm, squeezing gently against his bicep as if daring the tension to break.

“Good.” Was all you got before he practically dove in, lips to yours with a searing heat that almost knocked you back against the door. His hands were on your jaw, pulling you into him, desperation practically rolling off him in that moment. Like you would slip through his fingers at any moment if he didn’t hold you right here. You broke contact for just a split second to take a must needed breath before kissing back with equal intensity, you weren’t entirely sure who made the “mmph” sound as your lips collided again. I have to tell him, you thought - pushing further into the kiss.

And as if the universe had planned to ruin the moment, you heard your phones ring. Both of them, with the insistent ringtones you both knew to be from your respective employers. The same employers apparently. He pulled back as if stunned, slapped back into reality by the shrill mash-up of your phones against the quiet of the late night street. Phones were pulled from pockets as you both stared down at incoming calls. A near hysterical laugh ripped itself from you as you slumped against the door behind you. Four months to get a kiss from the gorgeous man in front of you and you get a call right now?

“I have to take this-”

“Gotta take this call-”

A chuckle from him, and he steps back, the cold swirling up your front as his heat leaves you.

“Later?” He holds up the phone to you, you know he can’t just not take this. Neither can you to be fair.

“Definitely later.” He smiles then turns to head down the road to his own flat as you turn to quickly let yourself into your building, your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you fumble with the keys. You manage to get inside and answer your call before it goes to voicemail.

“Sergeant Smith? Is this a good time?” You get the main door closed behind you.

“Yes Captain Harrison, what’s happened?” Taking your stairs two at a time to put distance between yourself and the world outside.

“I know you were meant to be on leave for at least a week but something’s come up. We’ve had a request for a temporary transfer from the higher ups. They need a fresh pair of eyes on information coming out of the Middle East and your file was pulled. Just warning you now,” You were at your flat door now, key in the lock as you waited - your Captain took an uncharacteristic pause, “you’ll be receiving a call within the next 10 minutes from a Kate Laswell from the CIA to discuss briefing and your flight out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been loaned out to another unit Sir, even if they were American. I’m not sure why you sound so apprehensive this time around.” You were inside your small flat at this point, jacket shrugged off and thrown over your duffel bags, still unpacked from your flight earlier today. Looks like they would be staying that way.

“I don’t know much about this unit, Sergeant, in all honesty. More of a task force from what I understand. By the sounds of it, it will all be heavily classified.” Well, if your interest wasn’t piqued before - it was now.

“What task force Sir?”

“141, under Captain John Price, SAS.”

—-

The next few days were a whirlwind. Briefings were had and official transfers were sought and approved. You barely had time to hit the ground running as you found yourself on a rather nondescript hangar base. Which, to be fair, was entirely understandable given the classified nature of task force 141 as you came to realise. You barely had time in all the madness to text your apologies to your man (your man?) that “later” would have to be once you both got back from whatever work you both had. He had been slow to respond, but knowing now that he was likely getting ready to go back out into the field you could understand. You really hoped he was as equally patient with yourself. Your access to your phone was going to be severely restricted once on base. Highly classified information and all.

You found yourself walking alongside Laswell following a quick but firm handshake, duffel over one shoulder and military assigned tablet under the other as you marched away from the helicopter that still had its engines running as it powered down on the tarmac. Soldiers were running across the field and between outbuildings. Whatever was going on had everyone in a rush, and that was never a good sign.

“You’ll receive a full briefing from Captain Price inside Sergeant, but just to get you up to speed,” her blue eyes squinting against the sun as she turned her head to you, “we lost custody of chemical gases in Verdansk less than a week ago. We have reason to believe they will surface again in the Middle East but there’s too much chatter in our communication channels to be sure where. You’ll be both here and in the field getting those chemicals secure before they hit friendly soil.”

“Understood - just tell me where to go to get set up.” She pointed her arm to a tent to the right of you, pace never slowing as she led you through the flaps. Inside were a group of three standard issue white folding tables in a “U” formation in front of a large screen, and you set your bag and tablet down on the one closest. You straightened as Laswell made her way to the front where a group of four uniformed soldiers stood huddled around said screen, shoulders back, feet apart and chin high. You could barely make out the hushed voices of the men ahead of you but held position, ever the good soldier. Ahead of you, you could see a tall imposing man in some sort of mask, though with his back to you it wasn’t obvious if it covered his full face. Next to him stood a man with a mohawk, his short sleeve shirt a major contrast to the full tactical gear of the man next to him. Off to the right stood a black man with short cropped hair, his baseball cap pulled low. Finally there was the man you assumed to be Captain Price, if the way the men kept turning to him was any indication, boonie hat covering the top half of his face and an unlit cigar hanging from his mouth.

Out of the four men standing ahead of you, you recognised one of them far too well for comfort, having had a good look at his back as he walked away from the door to your building only a few days ago. After he kissed you like he was scared to lose you, after he told you he was a soldier outside a crappy little kebab shop and you just sat there and let him keep believing you were just a data analyst. Shit. The rising panic in your chest threatened to bubble over into fear, and you found your knees beginning to shake. Not that you were given much time to think about the impending consequences.

“Captain Price,” the man with a boonie hat tilted his head in acknowledgment of Laswell as she reached him, “Sergeant Smith has arrived and is waiting for briefing.”

Four sets of eyes turned to you, but you only focused on one. Pleasant professionalism turned to surprise, then shock, and finally grave understanding as you stood there, near shaking like a leaf in the wind in front of him. You felt far too small in your standard issue boots, and your hands that were clutched to the front of your tactical vest longed to wrap around you at that moment. If the ground could have opened up and swallowed you whole in that moment you would have been more than happy. You could tell the colour had drained from your face, that you looked like you had just been shot, again, a more pleasant idea than the current situation you found yourself in at the moment.

“Y/N?”

Shit.

[dustedmagazine]

Dirty Three — Love Changes Everything (Drag City)

Photo by Daniel Boud

If the title of this new Dirty Three album immediately conjures memories of the 1987 soft-pop single by Climie Fisher, fret ye not — Warren Ellis, Mick Turner and Jim White are sounding as raw and elemental as ever. It may be over a decade since their last album, 2012’s Toward the Low Sun, but each member of the band has been plenty busy in the interim. Ellis has been playing with the Bad Seeds and working on soundtracks with Nick Cave. Mick Turner has started a fantastic new band called Mess Esque. And Jim White has been playing with Marisa Anderson, Beings, Jess Ribeiro and Xylouris White. However, as soon as these three men come together, they bring their collective experience and intuitive interplay to bear.

“I” is a summoning, an explosive reunion, in which the three players jab and jostle loosely, testing the boundaries of their long-standing relationship. Turner’s guitar simmers with distortion and feedback, White threatens to play like a conventional rock drummer, and Ellis saws his way into the picture with his trademark searing, yearning tone. Then, in a sudden left-turn, “II” feels like some grave news has been unexpectedly delivered, its plaintive piano chords like eyebrows raised in concern. “III” carries the album to its midway point with an anxious, keening whine of violin and the insistent tick of hi-hats, while the piano tries to bring some sense of resolve. The guitar and violin tentatively circle each other, proposing and re-proposing a middle ground, only for the piece to gradually disassemble into silence.

“IV” is built around Turner’s eerie waltz-time guitar and Ellis’s ghostly violin scrapes, White offering up gentle washes of cymbal. It rarely raises above a whisper, but amounts to one of the most affecting stretches of music on the album. “V” opens in a similar vein to “III,” with White’s insistent hi-hat, then Ellis picks up the thread with a pizzicato figure and Turner lazily strums a couple of open-ended chords. Ellis kicks in his distortion pedal, White ups the density of his playing, and all three players are soon matching each other’s fire, only for the piece to ebb away in its closing moments.

Thankfully, “VI,” the 10-minute closer, provides a satisfying though slow-burning pay-off. It emerges from a snaking whorl of violin loops, the guitar and piano each staking a claim towards establishing a defining theme. At various points during the second half, the music threatens to take off into a more fiery, chaotic realm, only to recede into questioning placidity. Much like the rest of the music on this album, it goes nowhere and everywhere all at once, creating and re-creating a space that feels intimidatingly boundless.

Tim Clarke

[icarusthelunarguard]

This Week’s Horrible-Scopes

It’s time for this week’s Horrible-Scopes! So for those of you that know your Astrological Signs, cool! If not, just pick one, roll a D12, or just make it up as you go along. It really doesn’t matter. Better yet! Check out “Heart of the Game, Fredonia” and see if they can sell you those D12’s with the symbols on them. Tell them “Shujin Tribble” sentcha. And “Hail, Hail, Fredonia!” Home of the Blue Devil!

Summer is right around the corner, so it’s time to start making your vacation plans. And we’re JUST the place to help you decide what to do and where to go. So get out your debit cards and get ready to plan your hotel stays. Remember, there’s a 30% Restocking Fee for any cancelled bookings. The Horrible-Scopes will not be responsible for any accidents, either mid-air or on the ground, to anyone using Ryan Air.

Aries 

We’re suggesting you plan your vacation to Costa Rica. It’s relatively easy to get to from the USA and Canada, has reasonable prices, ridiculously clean beaches, and the locals are friendly. What’s not to love about this choice? So This Week… Make sure you book a visit to the Cloud Forest in Monteverde. It’s totally a magical experience! 

Taurus 

Where Aries went with a reasonable price tag, we’re sending you off an expensive one. Even booking through Costco you’ll be paying about $8,000 for 5 nights - but that puts you in an overwater bungalow, all meals, all flights and taxi to/from the airport - and the destination? Bora Bora! So This Week…  Your high school-level French won’t be needed for this trip, but we suggest a hard hat. You’ve heard of Australian Drop Bears? How about Bora Boran Drop Coconuts? That can be a thing.

Gemini  

Speaking of the Australian area of the globe, we’re sending you Fiji. No, they do not make Fiji-Brand Water there. But speaking of, bring a good camera with you because you’ll want to remember the water there to swim in. Just amazingly blue and warm water and you’ll enjoy every minute of it. So This Week… When you plan your vacation, just avoid Denarau Island. That’s where you’ll find the largest concentration of Australian Bogans visiting. If you don’t know what that term means, just ask an Ozzie - they’ll explain. 

Cancer Moon-Child 

We’ll make this one super straight-forward: Iceland! Try to imagine visiting a country that’s incredibly safe, welcoming, chilly, but built like it’s just one giant national park. It’ll be a great visit with a better-than-average chance to see the Northern Lights at night. So This Week… There is an incredible and authentic Ethiopian restaurant in Fludir, run by an Icelandic man and his Ethiopian wife. Some of the best food and coffee. You HAVE to get there and check it out!

Leo 

Fancy taking a trip to the European mainland? Don’t care - we’re sending you to Spain. It doesn't get much hype but it promises sun, sand, cheap beer, cheap food, and it delivers 100% of the time… on the experience, not delivering food to you. If you want to stay away from the British and German tourists, plan on visiting the Basque region. It's a little more akin to the Pacific Northwest in the US, with a nice cool climate, still with stellar food. So This Week… You likely didn’t learn Castilian Spanish, so you might be treated with kid gloves if you try to speak Spanish to the natives. At least they’ll respect the effort.

Virgo 

Some have suggested this location and it’s stirred up a nasty hornet’s nest of opinions. We’re suggesting you go to… OHIO! Now, yes. Ohio’s birthed a number of people who have gone on to intentionally leave the planet for space, but that’s not exactly a bad point. It could be said that they were simply looking for somewhere more exciting than Ohio, and not finding it on the planet, looked elsewhere. So This Week… Order a bottle of Loganberry Syrup to get your taste buds ready for a week at Cedar Point. You’re Welcome. 

Libra

Plan on getting SCUBA Certified because you’ll need it as you head off to Belize! We’re going to remind you to research “the Blue Hole” so you can stay away from it, but this will be an awesome underwater experience! Imagine what it’ll be like to swim with stingray, small sharks, lots and lots of fish, and even eels that you can touch! Nothing will come close to that first dive with your instructor. So This Week… Always fall backwards out of the boat when you’re going SCUBA Diving. Because if you go the other way your facemask will hit the floor of the boat.

Scorpio 

Here’s a sleeper hit for you - and you best not go bragging about it to anyone: Northern Michigan. Giant sand dunes, beautiful bays, the Great Lakes, Mackinac Island… It’s like a different country compared to the rest of Michigan. The woodsy lake vibes with all the waterfalls are truly amazing. So This Week… Just remember that you are right next door to Ontario, Canada up there. Do NOT annoy the local bird life.

Sagittarius 

You’ll likely need a translator to help you out at times, but you’re slated to head out to Edinburgh, Scotland. Do your research and look up all the touristy places and stay way the hell away from them. You may love bagpipe music, but by the third day of hearing it incessantly, you WILL want to lance someone through the chest with a Claymore. So This Week… buy new socks and cushioned insoles for your shoes. Since EVERYTHING is uphill from there you WILL need them.

Capricorn 

We’re sending you WAY up north to Juneau, Alaska. The wilderness is amazing to walk or trudge through, depending on what time of year it is and the weather. But even beyond the daylight hours, you’ll have an amazing view of the night skies - and again, a better-than-average chance of seeing the Northern Lights. So This Week… Make sure your passport is valid because if you want to head to Anchorage, that’s a 925Km (574Mile) straight-line distance, but that’s a 19 HOUR DRIVE! Do NOT run out of fuel on the drive!

Aquarius 

We’ll suggest you consider Maui. Both the location and the animated character as voiced by Dwayne Johnson. We’re pretty sure most of you would LOVE to visit either one for various reasons. So This Week… Don’t even THINK about getting Maori tattoos on your body. They are painful and you WILL regret even trying.

Pisces  

You will be getting the best vacation location. No, seriously.. This is the vacation everyone else on this list is going to be asking to trade with you for. (*Grand Pause*) Grandma's house. Just Picture It - Cartoons & Silver dollar pancakes any time you want them, homemade spaghetti & meatballs, and fresh baked cookies before bed. So This Week… We’re not crying! You’re Crying! Shut up!

And THOSE are your Horrible-Scopes for this week! Remember if you liked what you got, we’re obviously not working hard enough at these. BUT! If you want a better or nastier one for your own sign or someone else’s, all you need to do to bribe me is just Let Me Know - or check out the Ko-Fi page ( https://ko-fi.com/icarusthelunarguard )! These will be posted online at the end of each week via Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Discord, and BLUESKY.

[historydailyfrancischappellblack]

History Daily: August 28

Image: Emmett Till (Wikimedia Commons)

On August 28, 1955, while visiting family in Money, Mississippi, 14-year-old Emmett Till, an African American boy from Chicago, is viciously murdered for allegedly flirting with a white woman four days earlier.

His murderers—the white woman’s husband and his brother—made Emmett carry a 75-pound cotton gin fan to the bank of the Tallahatchie River and ordered him to take off his clothes. The two men then beat him nearly to death, gouged out his eye, shot him in the head, and then threw his body, tied to the cotton gin fan with barbed wire, into the river.

Three days later, his body was recovered but was so disfigured that he could only identify it by an initialed ring. Authorities wanted to bury the body quickly, but Till’s mother, Mamie Bradley, requested it be sent back to Chicago.

After seeing the mutilated remains, she decided to have an open-casket funeral so that all the world could see what racist murderers had done to her only son. Jet, an African-American magazine, published a photo of Emmett’s corpse, and soon the mainstream media picked up on the story.

Less than two weeks after Emmett’s body was buried, Milam and Bryant, the two murderers, went on trial in a segregated courthouse in Sumner, Mississippi. There were few witnesses besides Mose Wright, who positively identified the defendants as Emmett’s killers.

On September 23, the all-white jury deliberated for less than an hour before issuing a verdict of “not guilty,” explaining that they believed the state had failed to prove the identity of the body. Many people around the country were furious by the decision and by the state’s decision not to indict Milam and Bryant on the separate charge of kidnapping.

The Emmett Till murder trial brought to light the brutality of Jim Crow segregation in the South and was an early impetus of the civil rights movement.

HORSE RACES A TRAIN

Image: Passengers enjoy their ride in a carriage pulled by the replica Tom Thumb.

Roaring, hissing, growling, clanking, the locomotives of the steam era not only resembled great beasts but were given names to match their status: Big Boys that hurled freight across the craggy American landscape; the UK’s Flying Scotsman; and the Fairy Queen, which still occasionally travels the tracks between New Delhi and Alwar in India.

But none of this was of great concern to no-nonsense Peter Cooper, the inventor and industrialist who designed and built the first American steam locomotive. He called it . . . Tom Thumb.

On August 28, 1830, Cooper accepted a challenge to prove that his mechanical power was greater than horsepower.

Until this point in time, rail companies in America, such as the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad (B&O) relied on horses to pull their passenger and freight trains, even though steam locomotives were used elsewhere in the world.

But that tradition was about to end when B&O directors were given a ride aboard Tom Thumb from Baltimore to Ellicott Mills, Maryland (now Ellicott City). They were amazed that the locomotive could achieve speeds of 10-14 miles per hour.

Then, according to legend, Tom Thumb took part in a famous race with a horse-drawn car while returning from a trip to Ellicott Mills. The locomotive was well ahead of the horse-drawn car until a mechanical fault caused the engine to lose steam, and the horse reached the finishing line first.

The event is a staple of American folklore though there is no documentation to substantiate it. Nevertheless, B&O was clearly impressed with Tom Thumb and ran this notice in newspapers:

The Baltimore and Ohio Rail Road Company being desirous of obtaining a supply of locomotive steam engines of American manufacture, adapted to their road, have given public notice that they will pay the sum of Four Thousand Dollars (equivalent to $136,000 in 2022 dollars) for the most approved engine which shall be delivered for trial upon the road on or before the first of June, 1831.

Although Tom Thumb is known as the first successful American steam locomotive, hauling passengers until at least March 1831, it was never put into regular service.

But a replica was built in 1927 for the B&O Railroad Museum and still runs today. The locomotive appeared on a US postage stamp in 1952.

GERMANY GETS READY TO INVADE POLAND

August 28, 1939. Journalist Care Hollingworth observes the “large numbers of troops, literally hundreds of tanks, armored cars and field guns” Germany had aligned along the Polish border. Three days later, Hitler invades Poland and WWII begins.

Image: Left to right, top to bottom: Luftwaffe bombers over Poland; Schleswig-Holstein attacking the Westerplatte; Danzig Police destroying the Polish border post; German tank and armored car formation; German and Soviet troops shaking hands; bombing of Warsaw. (Wikimedia Commons.)