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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 4 years

Text

Electric Touch

This one is definitely NSFW.

Wire play is a kink I didn’t realize I had.

"Connor, you know you're supposed to be in stasis for this." You looked at him expectantly.

'I know, I just... Don't want to." He was avoiding eye contact.

A couple of months ago, he had been injured, shot in the shoulder. As the emergency technician for the police force, he went to your office for repairs. An error occurred and he had awoken from stasis before you could finish repairs. Originally, he thought the reason behind stasis was because it deactivated his pain receptors and kept him immobile, but feeling your delicate fingers sliding along his wires, slipping between them and touching connectors, his body went rigid as he fought against the bombardment of pleasure, grinding his teeth to keep from moaning. When you realized he was awake, you profusely apologized and worked faster, the tingling bliss zapping through his systems, making him grip the table, the indentations of his fingers still marking the edge. He was so close when you withdrew your fingers, and he couldn't help but let out a whimper. Embarrassed, he said nothing on the matter.

Now, he feels more confident. Now, you were his lover, seeking each other's attention above all others. You brought about emotions he had never experienced before; affection, adoration, love... lust. Just watching you walk by was enough to stir his insides, hips swaying, the sight bounce with each step bringing his eyes to your breasts, your jeans straining to cover your plush ass. He's not sure when the dynamic changed, though he suspects it's always been there. Hank would often chastise him for his lingering gaze, though when others leered at you, a sense of outrage overtook him, made worse when they had the audacity to approach you. They soon learned, however, that you only had eyes for him, a position he took great pride in. You claimed him, with your words, your lips, and your body. He learned the joys of physical pleasure from you, and he, in turn, brought you to heights you never thought possible.

Feeling more confident did not mean he wasn't anxious. That is why he waited for an opportunity, or rather, a poorly timed lunge resulting in a knife wound in his lower right side. Nothing major was hit, though some wires will need to be replaced. With his pain receptors off, it felt strange, almost like a buzzing under his skin. He should have gone to Cleon, the tech on duty at the time of the accident, but he convinced Hank that it was minor and it could wait until he got home. Thankfully, the lieutenant was still inept in his knowledge of androids, so he had to trust Connor's word.

Now, after you scolded him for being reckless, you laid him down in bed, stripped to his black boxer briefs, a couple of towels underneath to prevent thirium from soaking into the sheets. Your toolbag at your feet, you sat next to him, wearing your specialized gloves and a night slip that left very little to the imagination, fueling his burning urges. When you bent forward to get a better look, he could see down your slip. You weren't wearing a bra. If you leaned forward just a little more...

A snap of your fingers brought him out of his trance.

"Connor! I don't want to hurt you like last time! Go to sleep!" You crossed your arms, waiting, the action pushing your soft mounds together, bringing his eyes briefly back down, hands tingling to touch.

"It didn't hurt." He finally said it. The truth was out. What would you think? This was not a normal kink, at least not for a human. Would you indulge or deny his desire? He couldn't look in your face, afraid of your judgemental gaze. Instead, you answered by sticking your fingers in the wound, expertly grabbing a wire between two of them and stroking along it, eliciting a heady moan from the android before you swiftly withdrew them. He unintentionally whined his disappointment.

"Love, look at me, " slowly, he brought his gaze back to you, pupils already dilated, pleading for you to continue, lips parted to aid in cooling his systems. A single touch and he had become putty in your hands. "I want you to tell me something." Your fingers teased the skin along his injury, something that should not be as pleasurable as it was.

"A-haah... Anything, " he huffed.

"Did you injure yourself just so I would have to touch your wires?" You said it so sweetly, but your eyes held a dangerous edge to it. If he gave you the wrong answer, he guarantees that his bliss would be over before it really started.

"No, I miscalculated. I promise." With that, you withdrew your hands, making him believe he had answered incorrectly. Did you want him to do it on purpose? You hated when he was reckless, even more so when it's intentional. Those thoughts died when you climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs, your slip riding up and giving him a clear view of your panties. Your needed tools now sitting next to him.

"Open up, " you purred and he didn't hesitate, opening his chassis and revealing his inner workings to you. "Keep still for a few minutes and then we can have our fun," Easier said than done. His hands gripped the bedsheets as your deft hands worked quickly to replace damaged thirium lines. His hips would jolt every time you disconnected or reconnected a wire. It felt so good, yet it was almost like it was missing an element in play. You had all the damaged wires removed in no time, his repair system kicking in to close the wound.

"Good boy. Now, for the fun part, " he practically vibrated in excitement. You produced a jar of blue liquid, applying it to your gloved fingers. A scan informed him it was a kind of conductive lubrication. When your oiled hands made contact again, he cried out, back arching and toes curling. You stroked along the new wires, coating them, then moving further south. You knew his body as well as he did, knew what went where, so it shouldn't have surprised him when you took hold of a particularly thick wire and gave it a slow squeeze.

"Fuck!" He shouted, your sinful laugh dripping down on him. You scooted up, the thin material of your panties making contact with the large bulge in his boxer briefs. He could feel how wet you were.

As you stroked up the wire, your hold still firm against it, his hips jumped, hearing you moan at the rough contact. Every exhale left his lips as either a moan, a curse, your name, or some combination of all three. His entire body was electrified under your touch. You withdrew your hand again, but before he could complain, you added more lube and slipped back in, disconnecting the large wire and fingering the connection. He clasped your hips, bouncing you against him as he sought out your heat. If he thought he could get his hands to function properly, he'd remove the clothed barriers and sink inside you, feel your walls squeeze him so tightly.

Just as warnings began to flare, you reconnected it, moving onto another. Your grip was becoming shakier, but even the trembling against his inner-workings was enough to send him into a frenzy, grinding you against himself to relieve the ache below. You were slipping your fingers through a bundle of wires, getting so close to something.

"You like how this feels, sweetheart?" You cooed, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, nibbling at his lobe. His grip tightened, sure to leave marks but unable to control himself.

"Y-yes, " he choked out, "please, just a little-" all thoughts were erased as your fingers curled around the thin wire at the center of the bundle. Searing hot euphoria raced through his being, momentarily blinding him, back arching sharply. His lips formed your name, but he couldn't hear what he said over the desperate thrums of his thirium pump. You gave him no reprieve, your thumb stroking the wire, his body convulsing as wave after wave of bliss washed over him. He took hold of your wrist, grunting as you slipped out from between his wires. With your hand out, he sighed his relief, taking time to enjoy the afterglow.

"I hope you don't intend to give me a show like that and leave me hanging, " you spoke through his haze, grinding down on his softening member. He looked down, seeing that you were not the only cause of the wetness against your panties anymore. He had never... So much...

He closed his chassis before pulling you down, rolling over so you were beneath him. His lips crashed against yours, wasting no time in delving his tongue inside, dancing against yours.

"My apologies. Allow me to repay you for your services."

#Cute Girls and Hot Androids #Connor fanfiction #connor x reader #rk800 connor reader #rk800 #DBH #detroit become human #gaming

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phcking-detective · 4 years

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UH 💚

💚 drunk kiss

***

Nines leaves the bullpen. It is getting far too loud and crowded, nearly every human and android in the building crowding around the lieutenant's desk to see the box of puppies he and Connor brought in to the Christmas party in order to encourage adoption.

There were six puppies. Now there are only four. Leaving to track down the errant two is as good as an excuse as any to leave.

It's not that Nines dislikes the adolescent dogs necessarily. He simply doesn't see any particular appeal, certainly not to the point of baby-talking and enduring urine accidents.

The missing puppies are easy enough to track by the stray fur and one little repeating paw print. Apparently, one of the puppies had stepped in another puppy's urine puddle and has tracked it along its route into … the breakroom.

Having heat vision also helps. That's what initially alerts Nines to the possibility that the puppies' escape attempt included human help. There is one human heat signature sitting in the corner of the breakroom, with one small puppy heat signature laying beside them. The second puppy heat signature is a bit more difficult to pick out, given that it appears to be in the human's lap, and therefore blurs into the human's own heat signature.

Nines enters the breakroom to find the puppy-stealing human has turned the couch over onto its side, then shoved it over to form the hypotenuse between the two walls of the corner where they're hiding.

It does seem to be a fairly effective method of puppy containment.

But Nines so focused on locating the puppies that it isn't until he physically enters the breakroom that he registers the voice of the human inside the makeshift barricade.

"Hey, puppy, hi puppy, who's puppy? Who's puppy? You're puppy!"

"Detective Reed?"

Nines would honestly be more likely to believe Sixty has kidnapped the puppies, mimicked the detective's voice, and lured him into a secondary isolated location in order to deactivate him than consider the possibility of his asshole human partner being …

"Fuck off you uppity GPS!"

No, that is his partner.

"Why have you abducted two adolescent dogs, Detective?" Nines asks, approaching the couch.

"They're called puppies, dipshit."

Nines peers over the edge of the upturned couch to see Gavin sitting in the corner with one puppy in his lap and another puppy waking up from a nap at the arrival of a new person. The puppy in his lap squirms around to face Nines and frantically wiggles its entire body in greeting. When Nines continues to observe them without physical interaction, the puppy begins to whimper.

"Aw, hey, it's okay, s'okay, I love you," Gavin tells the puppy.

Nines calculates the possibility that this is all a simulation put on by Cyberlife, or perhaps an errant virus contracted from interfacing with a deviant android witness.

The second puppy puts its paws up against the back of the couch to get a little taller and sniff at the air. It barks at him.

"Why have you abducted these puppies, Detective?" Nines asks.

"Weren't fucking treating them right," Gavin mutters, hugging the puppy closer. "Did you hear what Hank said about naming him Major?"

Nines silently shakes his head.

"Major pain in his ass," Gavin quotes, then scowls. "It's not his fault! He's just a baby. It's not his fault he cries when he's alone and gets jealous of the other puppies and isn't as smart. He just wants someone to love him, he's a baby."

To Nines's shock, the detective's tear ducts engage at the end of his defense. He sniffles and clears his throat, not looking at Nines.

He has heard the many indictments against the puppy named Major. Connor confided in him that he would be difficult to home. Out of the six puppies, this one has the worst separation anxiety, often peeing and chewing on things if left alone, to say nothing of the barking and howling. He also caused problems back in the bullpen by howling repeatedly whenever he felt another puppy was getting more attention than him, which was the majority of the time, considering there are five others.

And he hasn't even begun to understand any of the commands Hank and Connor have been gently introducing to the puppies to prepare them for another home. The others all at least have some concept of Sit, Come Here, and staying still for grooming. But this puppy just seems … a little stupid.

Yet Detective Reed, the least understanding human in the entire precinct, [loves] him.

Meanwhile, the other puppy jumps and attempts to scramble up the back of the couch, but of course it can't find any purchase to do so. It slips back to the floor, but seems neither injured nor perturbed by the failure.

"That one doesn't like to be touched," Gavin explains while Nines watches the antics. "Everyone kept trying to grab her and hold her, and it was stressing her out. She was about to start biting, and then they'd be all, oh she's a bad puppy, she's aggressive, even though they're the ones that fucking messed with her."

Nines notes his LED spin yellow.

"So yeah, I grabbed them and got them out of there." Gavin glares up at him. "I can give Major all the attention he needs, and the girl-puppy can be left alone."

Nines does not criticize his decision. He can't. He's too busy analyzing, calculating. He does not have a social module, not like Connor. Not like bright, happy Connor, who always knows what to say and what facial expression to make, and even when he doesn't, it's [cute] instead of [creepy] and he doesn't understand why.

Maybe it is simply in comparison. Any mistake or flaw of his predecessor automatically looks lesser in comparison to how [wrong] RK900 always is.

And the attempts to help.

"Help."

Humans insisting on shaking his hand, trying to grab his arm or his shoulder, taking it upon themselves to teach him to "hug" and "smile."

Connor insisting they interface to deviate him.

The whispers and the stares, the only android who hasn't deviate, the poor machine.

He has remained partners with Detective Reed despite the human's poor attitude first and foremost due to their unrivaled amount of cases solved, but Nines admits a secondary benefit is in fact the human's poor attitude. All the yelling and cursing and throwing things keeps the other humans at bay, and if Nines simply orbits closely enough to Gavin, he stays within an ironically protective circle where the only person he has to deal with is the detective himself.

Which actually hasn't been so bad. He can simply disable his audio processor to ignore the worst of the yelling, and it is not as if any of the name-calling or swearing actually hurts his non-existent feelings. He returns in kind with [decaying meatsack] and [unevolved flesh monkey], their bickering cooling down to a more routine banter.

But he had always considered that an incidental benefit. It never occurred to him that his partner could be smart enough to--to notice. To …

Help.

"Oh shit, hey," Gavin whispers.

Nines refocuses on the scene before him: the girl-puppy has discovered that she can wedge herself between the end of the couch pushed against the wall to half-climb, half-shimmy up a little farther. Gavin slowly moves his knee over until it's right underneath her kicking leg to give her better support until she eventually manages to scramble all the way up on top of the couch.

Of course, this amount of attention paid to the other puppy sets Major off on another crying fit, but Gavin quickly assuages him once the girl-puppy is safely on solid footing.

The girl-puppy runs over to the middle of the couch looks up at Nines. He stares back down at her. She sniffs at him, then barks again. She hunkers down, paces back and forth, and looks up at him.

Nines kneels in front of the couch so that he is--

The girl puppy jumps onto his shoulder and scrambles on his slick Cyberlife jacket, biting his ear and hanging onto it. Nines reaches up and holds his arm underneath her the way Gavin did so she can steady herself. She gets her feet beneath her and stands on his shoulder.

"What does it want?" Nines asks Gavin.

Gavin shrugs, a new expression on his face that Nines has never seen before. It appears to be a large [smile].

"Puppies like licking faces," he says.

Nines frowns at him. The girl-puppy shoves her nose into his ear. If he were human, he would have flinched, but he is more efficient than that.

"Is her nose supposed to be cold?" he asks.

Gavin laughs. It is … a new sound. "Yeah."

Major takes the moment of distraction as an opportunity to jump up and prove Gavin's face licking hypothesis correct. Gavin turns his head to the side to avoid getting licked in the mouth, although he keeps laughing.

"Hello, puppy! Yes, hello! Hello! Did you miss me in the three seconds I talked to Nines? I'm sorry, I still love you best, I love you!"

The girl-puppy finishes sniffing inside Nines's ear canal and moves on to sniffing his neck, then up his chin, to his face. That leaves her straining forward and starting to slip again, so he quickly places her back on top of the couch. True to Gavin's word, she squirms and barks the second his hands are on her until he releases her. She recovers quickly though once he lets go and keeps his hands below the edge of the couch where she can't see.

Nines leans in closer to inspect her, and the girl-puppy does the same to him. The other dog Sumo has been accused of "knocking up" was apparently a Chow Chow, which means the all of the resulting puppies are guaranteed to grow up to be very large and very, very fluffy. This puppy seems to have gotten the most of the Chow Chow genes, with only her size and coloring reflecting her Saint Bernard parentage.

He doesn't know enough about dog breeds to determine if her curiosity and propensity for nose work to be a quirk or breed-related. He opens his mouth to tell Gavin the face-licking hypothesis does not apply to this puppy, but she shoves her entire snout into his mouth and sniffs his tongue.

Gavin thinks this is hilarious.

Nines huffs air out through his mouth, and the puppy immediately withdraws and sneezes.

"Ho-ho-holy fuck," Gavin cackles.

"Is that a new Christmas song?" Nines asks.

Gavin finds this hilarious too, slipping sideways until he lays on the floor. Major resumes his face licking attack, which makes the human laugh more for some reason.

It is … a [good] sound.

“Are you gonna keep the girl?” Gavin speaks up from the floor when they’ve both calmed down.

Nines considers the puppy, who currently has both front paws against her face so she can lean up and sniff his LED.

“Are you going to keep the boy?” he asks back.

“Dunno. Probably hafta go back to therapy or something,” Gavin says, sounding almost sober. “Can’t have anger issues and a little puppy.”

Nines does not know what to say to that, so he does not. But he does note to himself that his partner is much more emotionally intelligent than he assumed.

“Your puppy is named Major, correct?”

“Yeah.” Gavin half-sits up. “Why, you need help picking a name for yours?”

“No.”

Nines cradles the girl-puppy mostly with his arms as he draws back, and allows her to harmlessly slide down his chest and into his lap. She looks around and sneezes twice, but maintains a good attitude about the experience.

Brave, smart, determined. And her natural desire for nose work could make her into an excellent cadaver dog.

“I have a name chosen.”

Gavin looks over the edge of the couch at them. “Yeah? What’d you choose?”

Nines tries to [smile] at him. He is aware the actual expression more closely resembles a [grimace]. Smiling is not one of the four facial expressions Cyberlife allotted him, and it is not like he could (or ever would) see a Cyberlife technician to install more.

But if he looks [stupid], Gavin doesn’t comment.

“Commander.”

“Oh, motherfucker!”

Nines tries [laughing] too. The most he manages is a burst of glitchy static, but it is more than he has ever dared try in front of any other person before.

It is a [good] sound.

#ask #oasisofpassion #reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #answered #sorry not sorry Major does all the Gavin-kissing #Nines and Gavin both adopting one of Sumo's puppies is endgame for my reed900 fic #so I have a lot of headcanons for this already

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 4 years

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All Is Fair: Ch. 6

As Lia prepares for her weekend getaway, she runs into Ada. Tommy stalks her comes to see her in the library, and poor Jenny is still kind of a buzzkill.

“What are you playing at, Tommy?”

Ada stared down at him, her hands planted on either side of his desk blotter, her face trying desperately trying to look stern but rather failing. Ada had learned that Lia was coming for the weekend and was none too pleased. Not because she didn’t like the girl. She liked her very much. The problem was that she was torn between being happy that her brother was interested in an intelligent, seemingly normal woman, and being worried about how his affections were going to change her seemingly normal life.

He resisted the urge to look up at her, refused to give in to her amateur (though admittedly admirable) attempt to scold him. He owed no explanation to Ada or anybody else for that matter. His actions were singularly his own business. He continued reading or at least pretending to read, the reports before him.

“Tommy, I’m not budging until you talk to me about this. I think you fail to understand the major ramifications your actions will have on this girl’s life. She’s not your usual…” Ada struggled for a word that would relate her meaning without putting Tommy on his guard. Failing to find one, she finished her sentence rather bluntly, “whore.”

That did it. He flicked his eyes up at Ada so quickly that she was caught off guard and jumped. He smirked at his sister’s reaction and rolled his eyes before leaning back in his chair and picking up the smoldering remnants of his cigarette, finding it unsatisfactory, and snuffing it out. His face said that he was annoyed and a little bit puzzled at Ada’s intrusion into his plans with Miss Montrose, and he gestured toward Ada to continue.

“Oh, so I have to explain myself and not the other way around.” She shook her head and straightened up. “Fine. I humored your little date on the narrow boat, I held my tongue when you sent her a gift that cost more than her annual salary, but summoning her out here to serve as your concubine…”

Tommy scoffed and suppressed a smile. Ada slumped into the chair opposite him and massaged her temples. Dealing with her brother could be migraine-inducing when discussing business, but when discussing personal matters the headaches were guaranteed.

She doggedly continued, “…Do you care at all what this will do to her reputation? She’s not like us. She is a regular person working for peanuts in a library! I’m sure people are talking as is; what will you do when she loses her job?”

He lit up another cigarette and as he exhaled said, “If the library wants to continue to receive funding it will continue to employ Miss Montrose for as long as she wants to continue to work there.”

“Oh, I see.” Ada snapped, “She will work there as the barely tolerated Shelby whore. Charming. You know that’s how they will see her.”

Tommy shrugged and took a sip of his whiskey. As someone for whom other people’s opinions hadn’t mattered for a long time, he couldn’t understand what Ada was getting so worked up about. But her next words hit him in a place that wasn’t quite dead yet, at least not where Lia was concerned.

“What will you do when she loses her heart?”

He blinked and Ada could see his jaw clench as he stared into her soft blue eyes. He had been so wrapped up in his own plans for Lia that he hadn’t stopped to consider how his attention would affect her life. He hadn’t thought about the very real possibility that Lia would see their dalliance as the beginning of something more. Now that Ada had forced him to see beyond his own desires he had a moment of pause.

“That’s what I thought,” she sighed. “Tommy, I know you like her. She seems to make you happy.” She leaned toward her brother and plaintive searched his face. “You deserve to be happy. Just have a care for what will happen to her when you grow tired of her company.”

***

Ada pulled the fur collar of her overcoat closed with a gloved hand. The wind whipped down Birmingham’s high street with a vengeance, especially considering it was midday. The promise of an early winter was on the air, hence Ada’s trip to the shops.

She and Karl had been staying with Tommy at Arrow house while she worked on Shelby company business. There was very little going on in London for the time being. Parliament was at recess, and Tommy had shifted his focus back to Birmingham. Ada had agreed to be close at hand, however, her cold-weather wardrobe was packed away in London. As much as she banged on about the unnecessary excesses of the wealthy, she enjoyed an excuse to shop as much as the bluebloods that she criticized. She wanted a few new dresses and perhaps a cashmere wrap for evenings in Arrow House’s drafty halls, and Karl could do with a new jumper and some wooly socks. She was near to her first destination when she saw Lia crossing the street toward the equestrian shop.

Ada was every bit as savvy as Tommy when it came to intuition, and there was only one reason that Lia would be going to an equestrian outfitter. Ada reckoned that Lia would spend a week’s wages, at least, on an outfit that she would only wear once or twice. Obviously, Lia wanted to make sure that she was dressed appropriately for whatever Tommy had planned, and she was willing to make sacrifices to save face. With winter coming on, she would be better off spending it on a warm coat or some woolen dresses. There was only one thing for Ada to do; she changed her course and crossed the street.

The smell of rich, oiled leather washed over Lia as she walked through the door. It reminded her of the smell of Tommy’s car and made a shiver run down her spine. She spent only a few seconds gazing wide-eyed at the wall to wall khaki, leather, and tweed before a pinch-faced shop keeper approached her.

“May I help…?”

The word “you” was lost underneath the sound of the door as Ada strolled in. The shop keeper’s eyes widened, and he shifted his attention to the well-heeled princess of Small Heath. He mumbled a hasty, “Excuse me,” to Lia and sailed toward Ada.

“Welcome Miss Shelby…er…Thorne…”

Ada smiled sarcastically and quipped, “It’s Shelby,” as she walked straight past him to get to Lia.

Ada greeted Lia with open arms and air-kissed both of her cheeks. “Fancy meeting you here! Tommy told me that you were coming to visit us this weekend. I hope you didn’t have your heart set on riding. Tommy has sent his favorite mount out to stud and his filly is getting ready for the derby.” Lies.

Lia was at a loss as her mind tried to process what Ada had said. She was both caught off guard by the familiar way in which Ada had greeted her, and wholly relieved that she wouldn’t have to go into debt on riding gear.

She finally pulled it together enough to reply, “Well I’m glad that I ran into you. I was, in fact, looking forward to a chance to ride.”

“We must have you to come back when we have a full stable, then. Listen, I was just about to go to the dress shop ‘round the corner. Would you like to come with me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Ada ushered her out of the equestrian shop and steered her toward the dress shop where everything was miraculously fifty percent off.

***

Lia carefully climbed the ladder that led to the shelf that she needed. She cradled several books in one arm while she ran a finger over the spines of the ancient volumes on the top shelf. Finding the correct spot, she began wedging the returns into their rightful places. Tommy stood a safe distance away, partly concealed by a cabinet of maps. After speaking to Ada about the shopping trip she’d had with Lia a few days ago, he felt the need to spend some more time with her. He wanted to put her mind at ease about his expectations and to let her know that even though he was in the halls of Parliament now, it wasn’t so long ago that he was just another kid from Watery Lane. She didn’t have to pretend to be something she wasn’t with him. He liked her just as she was.

He relished the opportunity to see her at ease. She was absorbed in her work, tucking her hair behind her ear and pointing her toes like a ballerina as she stretched to place the last book without having to move the ladder again. He watched her careful descent and smiled at the demure way she smoothed her skirt when she reached the ground, lest it had hitched up during the climb. The midday sun streamed through the stained glass windows, bathing her in red and orange light. She glowed. The effect made it impossible for Tommy to look away. Even as she stepped out of the illumination she still radiated. He barely knew her, and yet he was fascinated with her. Something that he could not explain was unraveling the knots he kept tied around his heart.

As she worked her way through the shelves a feeling of warmth had wrapped itself around her; it was the feeling she got whenever she was with Tommy. She smiled to herself and chalked it up to wishful thinking. That little smile on her deep red lips was what finally pulled Tommy out of his hiding spot. He crossed the floor on catlike feet, and slipped down between the stacks where Lia stood. She looked up, blinked rapidly for a moment, and then rewarded his patience with a flash of white teeth as she grinned up at him. He seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

“Think of the devil and he will appear.”

“Were you thinking of me just now?”

“As a matter of fact, I have thought of little else since I started on this shelf. I should probably double-check my work.” She bit her bottom lip and leaned back on the book cart. “What brings you downtown in the middle of the day?”

“As Member of Parliament for this area, I find that it is advantageous to take an interest in the public institutions and services within my purview.”

“Is that so?” No matter how much she tried to appear sophisticated in front of Tommy, she couldn’t help grinning like a fool. “It is time for my break. I know of a little place nearby. We could have a drink. I could…um…answer any questions you may have about this fine public institution.”

The hint of a sly smile lingered around Tommy’s lips, “Do I really need an excuse to come to see you?” Something about the way he posed the question sounded like a seduction.

“No, Tommy. A visit from you is always welcome,” Lia spoke, and the smile she wore faded into something more serious.

Tommy nodded and offered her his arm. Several patrons stopped their research to steal glances at the pair as they walked together down the stairs. Lia felt a little thrill knowing that she walked with the most powerful man in Birmingham, knowing that people would wonder who she was to him. She released her hold on his arm so she could pop into the offices to get her coat and purse. Before she got two steps away from Tommy, his hand was gently pulling her back. He leaned toward her, and his mouth grazed her ear as he whispered, “Tell your boss that your assistance is required by a representative of the British Government. You will be needed for the remainder of the afternoon.”

When he pulled back from her, his face was a mask of neutrality, but she could feel the lust rolling off of him in waves. She slipped into the office to deliver Tommy’s message and grab her things. She couldn’t wait to be alone with him.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfic #all is fair

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barbarasbae · 5 years

Text

Just a Taste-Californiacation

Part Seven of Just a Taste

Vampire!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: emotions, fluffy af

Road trip!

“What?” He asked incredulously. “We’re going to Santa Cruz. I really hope you have a map in the car.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” She glanced over at him. “Why are we going to Santa Cruz?”

“We’re gonna figure out how the hell to reverse this.” She said, gesturing to him and turned the heat up. “Okay, but why?”

“I like you, Billy.” She said, biting her lip. He would have blushed if he could. He squeezed her knee tighter. “I like you too.” He whispered. She let him turn up the music, reaching down to hold his hands when they were alone on a long stretch of road. Billy chattered about what he liked to do in Santa Cruz before he was turned into a vampire, telling her about the boardwalk and the gorgeous blue surfboard he used to own. It was now 3 am and Y/n pulled into a gas station. “Want me to drive from here?”

“Sure. I can’t guarantee I’m gonna stay awake though.”

“It’s okay.” He decided to get gas while she went to the bathroom. She bought two water bottles and set them in the middle console when she got back. Billy drove for the majority of the next day, Y/n waking up at 11 am when they were about an hour away from the Iowa-Nebraska border. “Where are we?”

“Denison, Iowa.” She nodded, laughing at the growl her stomach suddenly let out. “I forgot about eating.” They stopped at a burger joint on the state line, Y/n groaning and reaching over the table to wipe his face. “I swear you’re doing this to spite me.”

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes, Billy smiling. “Do you actually like eating food?”

He shrugged. “This is probably as close as I wanna get. You want my fries?”

“Sure.” She took them in the car, offering to drive the next leg of the trip. She was honestly surprised when he did. As they drove into Wyoming, the time change started getting to her a little. “This is the day that’s never gonna end.”

“We’re driving into the sun.” He commented, looking out the window. “Look more cows. Wow.”

“At least you have something besides concrete to look at.”

They played the license plate game until it became unbearably boring as they slowly all became Utah plates. They reach Nevada by 8 pm (because of pit stops), Y/n having eaten about three full things of M&Ms, Billy on hamburger number four (he hadn’t drank human blood in weeks and it was getting to him). They stopped at a motel, Y/n passing out basically the second her body hit the dingy comforter. Billy took her shoes off and climbed into the bed with her, curling around her. He held her to his chest, her shifting closer to him in her sleep.

Billy wakes up at 3 am and drinks the blood of a guy that got kicked out of a bar nearby for being disorderly (no, he didn’t kill him). He sits in the motel and watches crappy tv until Y/n wakes up at 5 am. “I’ll drive today.” She trudges out to the car, bag in hand, having changed into a sweatshirt instead of the bulkier winter clothes she’d been wearing when they left Hawkins. She fell asleep about 20 minutes into the drive, Billy smiling as he looked over at her every few minutes. “Watch the road, creep.” She teased him, blinking awake. “Sorry, you’re too distracting. You snore like a fucking lawn mower.”

“I snore?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nah.” About three hours later, she was starting to fidget. “Gotta pee.” She mumbled, Billy finding a gas station. He refilled his tank, both using the opportunity to use the bathroom. She grabbed them both a breakfast sandwich, as well as a coffee for herself and jerky for Billy. She handed it to him, Billy kissing her cheek so casually she almost dropped her coffee. “When do you think we’ll get there?” She asked as they got back on the interstate. He shrugged. “Three ish.” He was right. They crossed into California at 11ish, getting lunch about an hour later in Sacramento. She looked tired, Billy wondering what they were gonna get themselves into.

They got to Santa Cruz a little earlier, Billy may or may not have gone 10-20 miles over the speed limit the last hour of the trip. “What do we do now?” She asked him, knowing they most likely couldn’t check into a motel for another hour or two. “Wanna go to the beach?” They found themselves in a surf shop, buying towels and swimsuits. She got sunscreen and flip flops, Billy renting a surfboard. They ate tacos from a food truck on the beach while sitting on the towels, the surfboard resting in the sand next to them. Billy thought she looked cute, her wearing her sweatshirt over the swimsuit. “What if we just stayed?” He asked, watching a wave break on the sandbar. “We can’t.” Her voice was muffled by the taco. “Why not? We’ve got each other? We can work odd jobs, get an apartment-”

“Billy, we’re not even dating. I can’t tell you yes just to be left behind...And I’d miss my family.” Billy only really had Max and Susan. Neil was scared of him, even if he did still try to beat the crap out of him. Billy sighed. His hand found hers on the towel, resting it over hers. “I’m sorry.” He poked at the sand. “I get it. I just might not go back with you.” She nodded, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. “I’m...I’m gonna go call my mom.” She got up, sniffling, walking to the boardwalk and finding a pay phone. “Hey mom, it’s Y/n.”

“Oh, hi sweetie. Are you having fun at Logan’s house?”

“That’s why I’m calling you. I’m not at Logan’s.”

“Where are you?”

“Santa Cruz...California.” She admitted with a wince, knowing she was about to get screamed at. She preemptively held the phone a little farther from her ear. “YOU ARE WHERE?”

“California.”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU THERE?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, looking back to the beach to see Billy was gone. “My friend was having a really hard time and I really wanted to help them get away. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything when I get home, Okay?” She heard her mom sigh. “Okay. Please just be safe, sweetie, alright? I’m not really mad, I just wish you hadn’t lied to me about this.”

“I will be. I’m sorry mom.” She walked back to the beach, sitting on the towel before properly breaking down. She tried to calm herself, seeing Billy pretty far out in the water, paddling towards a big wave. When Billy comes back, the sun is still beating down on them. She was curled up on the towel, sweatshirt abandoned due to the heat. He smiled. Cute. “Babe.”

“...”

“Baby.”

“...what?”

“Whatcha doing?” She sat up slowly, thankful the blond boy was blocking out the sun. “Sleeping off all those hours in the car.” He looked up to check the clouds. “Wanna get in the water?” She nodded and got up, her face a little warm from a light sunburn. A squeal left her mouth as he threw her over his shoulder and ran into the water. He dropped her in, laughing as she stood up, sputtering. She pushed him, Billy falling on his ass. They both laughed, her helping him up. He pulled her close, leaning down like he was wanted to kiss her. She turned her head a moment before he could, holding his shoulders and jumping. He caught her just in time for a shoulder high wave to wash over them. “Oh my GOD that was cold.” He snorted, shaking his head. She reached up and pushed wet curls out of his face, looking at his face hard. “What?”

“You have freckles. They’re cute.”

“Thanks.” He bit his lip. They stayed in the water a little longer, Billy deciding he needed to return the surfboard before he forgot. Y/n changed in a public bathroom, frustrated with the sand that never seemed to fully come off. She pulled on shorts she had bought earlier in the surf shop and her sweatshirt back on. She met him by the car, having pulled her hair out of her face. “Ready to go find dinner?” She nodded and climbed in, the pair finding a motel to stay in and then went for dinner. Billy ate yet another burger, Y/n deciding to try something new (she was getting sick of greasy burgers). “Oh my god did you just wipe your face?” She asked, teasing the blond. He groaned. “Okay maybe I do have manners. Sue me.”

“I plan on it.”

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lahabread-devastation · 5 years

Text

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing Pt. 8

Author’s Note: We’re getting close to the end, guys. This is where the major event that happened to me starts. I also want to make note that I have stopped having people edit for me, so there may be some mistakes, but I hope there are few. Please let me know how I am doing. Thank you for sticking with me!

Warnings: Abuse (verbal), alcohol use, drug use, suicide attempt, swearing

Word Count: 3797 Your alarm blared in your face bright and early. You smacked your palm against the screen, eventually silencing the blaring horn. You rolled over onto your back, stretching out your limbs and finding Connor’s side of the bed empty.

You groaned and sat up. You could feel your anxiety flowing through your chest. You stood and walked to your duffle bag, digging for the bottle of Xanax you asked Connor to grab for you. You hated taking the benzo, but you could feel the shakes starting. Grabbing two pills from the bottle, you downed them with the leftover water from the night before, making a face at the lingering taste.

You got your clothing for the day and headed for the shower. In the hallway, you could smell bacon. You smiled to yourself. Connor was so good to you. You turned on the water, waited for the perfect temperature and hopped in. You moved as fast as you could, the thought of bacon motivating you.

When you finished, you went back to the bedroom to toss your pajamas on the bed and grab your phone. You glanced at the screen, seeing several missed calls and texts. You ignored them, knowing it would do nothing but upset you.

Entering the kitchen, you saw a plate of bacon and eggs on the table along with a glass of orange juice and a dozen yellow roses in a vase. You covered your mouth with your hands. Your eyes filling with tears.

Connor came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I remember you mentioning how important yellow roses are to you. I may have made an extra stop last night. I was hoping they would cheer you up.”

You turned in his arms and gave him a kiss. “Thank you, my love. I shouldn’t be surprised you remembered, but I am,” you laughed.

“Being an android has its perks. Besides, they remind you of your grandfather. He was important to you. You wear his dog tag everyday. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted it,” he smiled down at you.

You hugged him before pulling out your phone to snap a few photos of your roses. You sat to eat your breakfast while uploading your photos to your Facebook page. Connor sat opposite you, scrolling through his phone.

You uploaded your photos and sat your phone down to pick up your fork when it vibrated. You double tapped the screen to see a Facebook notification. Shoveling some eggs in your mouth, you clicked on the notification. You chewed as the comment on the pictures of your roses loaded.

Jill Supergasm Aren’t yellow roses supposed to mean friendship and get well? What does that say about its “feelings” for you?

You growled and slid your phone across the table to Connor. Connor picked up your phone, quickly reading the comment and snorting. “May I?” He gestured to your phone.

“Whatever,” you mumbled through more eggs.

Connor typed out a short response, sliding your phone back to you. “She really thinks that highly of herself to call herself ‘Supergasm’?”

“Yeah, yeah she does. She brags about being able to make girls cum. It’s kinda gross.”

You looked at your phone.

Y/N Y/L/N Hi. It’s Connor, or it. The yellow roses actually symbolize the deep, important connection Y/N had with her grandfather, making them her favorite flower. Considering you didn’t know that, what does that say about the kind of friend you are?

You let out a bark of laughter despite knowing you’d hear about it from Jill later. You put your phone to sleep and sat it down when it started vibrating.

“She texting you now?” Connor asked, rolling his eyes.

You glanced at the lit screen, “yup.”

“Did you read anything she sent from last night?”

“Nope.”

“Good girl. I can guarantee that everything she said was an attempt to guilt trip you. Was the food good, darling?” He nodded towards your plate, noticing it was empty.

“Mmm, very. I’m already very anxious this morning, I didn’t need her texts to make it worse. I just got rid of the notifications. I’m sure she’ll find plenty of opportunities to corner me at the shop,” you sighed, defeated.

“Maybe you should consider looking for another job. You shouldn’t be afraid to go into work...for any reason.”

“I know. I’m hoping things just blow over but the more I see, the less hopeful I become.”

“Y/N...I don’t think she’s ever going to let you live your life the way you want to. It was easy to be her friend before me because you were easy to control. Now that you have someone else in your life and you have other things you want to do that don’t involve her, she’s angry. She’s lost control. Just...keep that in mind, okay? Please know that if you need to quit immediately, you can move in with me. I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, Connor. That means a lot to me. I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Come on. Let’s get you to work. Remember, if you need anything, call. Call me, call Hank, call the department, call 911. I’ll also have my phone on my desk, so you can text me if you start to get overwhelmed.”

You nodded, shouldering your bag and grabbing your car keys. You tossed them into your bag before heading towards the door. Connor placed your dish in the sink before following. He followed you into the hallway and locked the door behind him.

Connor interlaced his fingers with yours and lead you out to his car. He opened the passenger side door and helped you into the car before closing the door. He walked around the front of the car, opening the driver’s side door and slipping in behind the wheel.

You could hear him fumbling with his keys. You kept your gaze on your hands clasped in between your thighs. Maybe if you focused hard enough, you could stop the shivers that ran through your body.

Connor’s hand appeared in your lap, a key resting in his palm. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s to my apartment. Hank has a key if I need to get in before I come to get you. I’d feel better knowing you had a way into a place that was safe.” His smile was soft and there was a look of sadness in his eyes. You nodded and took the key from his hand, grasping it to your chest as if your life depended on it.

Connor squeezed your thigh before starting the car. “Are you sure you want to go?” He was barely audible. “I don’t have to do a vitals scan to see you are terrified. You can stay home. You can come to work with me. No one is making you go in, Y/N.”

You took in a deep breath and released it slowly, “No. I need to go. If I don’t do it, I never will. I’ll be okay. My other coworkers will be there. There will be customers...I’ll be safe,” you said more to yourself than to Connor.

Connor took your hand and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before pulling out of the parking lot. You kept a firm grasp on his hand and his key during the entire ride to the coffee shop. He made soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

When he pulled up to the shop, you stared at the store front for a few seconds before turning to Connor with a small smile. “Thank you, my love. I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

He beamed at you, “I love you. You don’t need to thank me. As long as you allow me to love you, I will always treat you like my queen.”

You blushed, “ I love you too, Connor. I hope you will allow me to always love you.”

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting your face to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. He lingered for a few moments before pulling away and stroking your cheek. “You better go, darling. You’ll be late if you stay here,” his hand traveled to your thigh and dug his fingers into the fabric of your jeans.

You groaned, leaning in to kiss him once more, biting his bottom lip before opening the door and climbing out.

“You think you’re fucking slick?” Connor leaned across the console.

“Yeah, actually, I do. I’ll see you later, my love,” you smirked at him before closing the car door and turning around. You swayed your hips as you walked towards the coffee shop doors. You paused before opening the door, looking over your shoulder to see Connor still watching you. You winked at him. He narrowed his eyes and using two fingers, pointed to his eyes then to you. You stuck your tongue out at him before opening the shop door and finally stepping inside.

“Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?” Your manager, Christine asked.

“Okay. Better.” You looked up from placing Connor’s key in your bag to find your manager standing beside Jill at the counter. Your manager’s expression looked hardened while Jill looked like she was trying to shoot daggers from her eyes. “I’m...going to go punch in and put my stuff away.”

“Good. I’m going to work on paperwork in my office. If either of you need me, call.” Christine turned on her heel and headed to her office.

You walked around the counter, side-stepping Jill.

“What was with that display?” Jill spat at you.

“What?”

“Outside. Just now. What was that? Putting on a show for your toy in front of everyone?”

“Jill, please. Not now. I want to just work.”

“Why did you ignore my calls and texts?” She stepped in front of you.

“I didn’t. Shit happened, I went to bed, I got up, I got ready for work, I came here. I don’t always have time to answer, Jill.”

“That was never an excuse before.”

“Jill, move. I need to clock in and get ready.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Jill pointed a finger in your chest before turning away.

In the backroom, you placed your belongings in your locker and pulled out your apron before closing and locking the door. You placed the apron over your head, pulling the strings around your waist and trying to tie them together with shaking hands. The Xanax you took earlier was not doing much to calm your anxiety.

Returning to the front counter, you jumped into work. You took orders, you made drinks, you bagged orders...all the while avoiding Jill’s glaring stare. The tension laid over you like a heavy fog. You were able to continue to maneuver through it, but you couldn’t ignore its existence.

After a few brutal hours, your lunch break came. You grabbed from your snack stash in your locker and headed outside. You sat against the wall and brought your knees to your chest, nibbling on your favorite snack. The door to the shop opened and someone sat beside you.

“You can’t ignore me all day.”

“What are you doing out here, Jill? I’m on my lunch break, someone needs to run the shop.”

“I spoke to Christine. She’s running it.”

“You spoke to Christine?” You glanced up at her.

“Told her we needed to clear some shit up. She knows we’re fighting.”

“I don’t understand why we’re ‘fighting,’” you turned back to your food.

“Because you left me when I needed you, you called off the next day when we both know you weren’t sick and was just avoiding me because that thing asked you to, you canceled our ride this morning with a sad excuse, and you’re acting cold towards me,” Jill rattled off in an annoyed tone.

“Jill, I told you before. I would not have left if there weren’t people there with you. Believe it or not, I knew you were safe with the people there. I was terrified and needed to take care of my own mental health as well. You aren’t the only one with mental health problems, Jill, but you seem to forget that. Needing a mental health day is also a reason to call off sick, and you understand that more than anyone. You’ve done it more than any of us here. My car battery died. I’m fucking sorry. And yes, I am a little cold towards you because you have been nothing but cold to me since I’ve met Connor which included posting a nasty comment on the photos of the roses he got me this morning.”

“Speaking of, why did you allow him to comment that?”

“Why did you comment that to begin with?” You countered. “I left him do what he wanted because he did something extremely sweet for me. You know what yellow roses mean to me. You know I have a tattoo of a yellow rose for my grandfather. You were fucking there when I got it and yet you commented something nasty just to be nasty. You don’t have to love Connor, but stop calling him ‘it’ and stop starting fights with me because you have some sort of hatred or jealousy towards him. Please, Jill, just stop.”

“I’m trying to protect you. He’s going to hurt you!” Jill insisted.

“No, he won’t. And if for some reason we get into some kind of fight that ends our relationship, it’ll be between Connor and I. You aren’t trying to protect me. You are trying to be the wedge that drives Connor and I apart. It’s not working. I don’t know if you have something against him personally, if you don’t like Androids, or if you are fucking jealous because he was able to get my attention so fast, but this needs to stop, Jill. You are my best friend. This is killing me.” Tears started to well up in your eyes.

Jill watched you silently. When she didn’t respond, you went back to eating. You could see Jill turn her gaze to the street from the corner of your eye. “You’ve never spoken to me like that before,” she deadpanned.

“I never had a reason to. I’ve been so upset over the past couple of days. It’s been building,” you shrugged.

“Do you feel better?”

“Some. I’d feel better if you’d actually respond to what I said instead of dancing around it.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been so stressed. And I’m sorry about the comment. I knew about the yellow roses.”

You sighed. You were hoping for a more detailed, thought out apology, but the fact that Jill apologized at all was kind of surprising.

“Can I drive you home after work? Make up for it?” Jill asked.

You shifted uncomfortably. You knew Connor wasn’t going to be happy about that, but you also knew he wanted you to do what you wanted. It was just a car ride home, right? And Connor could just pick you up from your apartment. “Sure. I’d like that,” you smiled.

“Great! I’m glad we can go back to normal. I’ve missed you.” Jill gave you a one armed hug.

“I missed you too,” you leaned into her side. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You could finally breathe.

You spent the rest of your lunch break talking to Jill. It felt like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. You finally felt completely happy and light.

“It’s time to head back in,” Jill announced after checking her phone.

“Okay, gimme a second to cancel my ride home and I’ll be right in,” you smiled at her, pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Awesome!” She returned your smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Slightly confused, you opened your text conversation with Connor and typed out a quick message: Hey my love, Jill and I got to talk things out and she offered to take me home after work. She’s going to take me to my apartment, so can you pick me up there when you get off?

A couple of seconds later, your phone dinged: Of course, my light. I love you.

You smiled at your screen: I love you too, Connor. More than you could ever know.

Connor sent back a kissy face emoji. You laughed and shook your head. He never really struck you as an emoji guy, but it was adorable.

The rest of your work day went by without incident. You and Jill laughed and joked around as you usually did, which made your work day go by faster. It also made the rude customers seem like nothing at all. None of them bothered you like they usually would.

At the end of your shift, you gathered your things from your locker and returned your apron. Jill poked her head into the back room, “Ready?”

“Yeah. Lemme just lock this up and I’ll be all set!” You closed your locker, sliding the lock through the holes and snapping it closed. You turned and followed Jill out of the room. You waved your goodbyes to your coworkers and allowed Jill to lead you to her pickup truck.

In her truck, you buckled your seatbelt and got comfortable. While she got herself situated, you checked your phone.

There was a text from Connor: I miss you, baby girl. Be careful. I’ll see you soon, gorgeous.

You smiled. “Why you grinnin’ like an idiot?”

You looked up at Jill, “No reason. Cute dog post.” You looked back down at your phone, a little confused at the lie that flowed from your mouth. You typed a response to Connor, trying to hide the screen as much as you could from Jill. I miss you too, darling. I’ll be careful. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.

You turned off your phone screen and placed it in your lap. Jill was watching you quietly. “What?”

“Cute dog post? That you needed to type?”

“Jill, stop. I was on Tumblr. I was typing hashtags. I thought we were over the whole you hate Connor thing.”

“That isn’t my problem.”

“Then what is? You’re acting jealous just like you do when you think I am giving Connor even a tiny bit of my attention.”

“It’s nothing, Y/N. You just seem so different. I feel like you are lying to me and avoiding me and I didn’t feel like this until you met him. I’m just making a connection.”

“I’m telling you how I feel. Maybe I’m a little more blunt about it, but that’s the only difference I see.”

“Okay, whatever.” She started her truck and pulled out of her parking space.

You sighed and turned to look out the window. You were starting to regret allowing her to drive you home. Jill drove in silence, but you could see her glance at you every now and then. You ignored her, hoping she would break the silence first.

It was a little while before you realized she was driving towards her house and not your apartment. “Jill, where are you taking me?” the panic evident in your voice.

“Calm down, I just need to pick something up at my house.”

“Jill, you were just supposed to drop me off. You couldn’t wait the five to ten minutes it took to drop me off?”

“I’m not going home after dropping you off. I’m going to Keith’s place. I’m just picking up some beer. Chill out, Y/N. What is your problem?”

“My problem is you didn’t tell me you were making any stops. You said you were taking me home. You should have told me you needed to stop by your house,” you tried to keep your voice even and calm.

Ordinarily this wouldn’t bother you, but something was telling you to get out of this situation and get home. You knew if you opened your phone and texted Connor, she would get angry. Maybe you didn’t need to panic yet...maybe she was just picking up beer for plans she had made. Maybe you were over thinking.

She pulled into her driveway and turned off her truck. “Can you help me? I have more than one case.”

You hesitated before nodding and opening the passenger door. You pocketed your phone and put your bag over your shoulders.

“You can leave that in the truck, dummy. We’re coming right back.”

“I know. I just like having it on me,” you shrugged.

Jill eyed you. “Whatever. Let’s go,” she muttered.

She lead you into her house, turning on the lights and heading into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, grabbing a red solo cup and filling it with wine. “Want some?”

“No. Jill, we’re supposed to get the beer and you’re supposed to drop me off. Not drink.”

“Why are you in such a hurry? We used to chill after work all the time. Stay for a little!” She chugged the entire cup and refilled it.

“No, Jill. I don’t want to. I want to go home.”

“Why? Why are you so fucking desperate to get home? Is your fuck boy there?”

“Connor is working. I’m tired, Jill. I’m tired, I’m anxious, and I just want to go home. Please.”

“You can rest here. And if you’re anxious, I can help. You know I have anxiety, too. Come on, just chill.” She grabbed your arm and lead you to her living room, shoving you onto her couch. She sat on the other side of the couch, placing her drink on the end table and facing you.

“Jill, please. Take me home?” You whispered.

“Why?! Why can’t I be your safe place? Why can’t you stay here with me for a little? Just fucking stay here.”

You itched to call Connor but you knew it would only escalate the situation. You didn’t want a repeat of last time. You also didn’t want to stay there.

“Jill, this has nothing to do with you or Connor. I just want to go home,” you pleaded. Your eyes started to tear up.

“You know what. I’m so fucking sick of this. You abandon me. You lie to me. You won’t spend time with me. Why the fuck do I even care?”

Jill got up and crossed the room to her backpack. You watched her dig around her bag and pull out several bottles of pills. Confused, you continued to watch as she opened each bottle before coming back over to the couch.

She dumped each bottle into her hand, shoved the pills into her mouth, and gulped down her wine.

Your stomach dropped.

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#detroit become human #connor rk800 x reader #connor x reader #dbh #dbh connor #fanfic #dbh fanfic #wolf in sheep's clothing

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gobilobi6-blog · 4 years

Text

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at your neighborhood Apollo Blinds Stores, you ought to have their expert come over and check your current window treatment. He will eyeball the current fitments to check whether they are perfect with motorisation. He will likewise make sense of the sort and size of engine required. Having a specialist investigate the current fitments guarantees your buy and establishment of mechanized blinds and shades goes easily.

A word about engines. Nowadays like everything else, the market is overflowed with modest Chinese engines. These as a general rule, don't convey the torque (power yield) referenced on the standard of the engine. As you would envision, the outcome is not exactly fulfilling.

At the point when you converse with the proficient deals society at Apollo Blinds, you will find that Apollo Blinds unit consistently matches the right engines for given window size and weight of the visually impaired or conceal. Keep in mind, purchasing an engine is a speculation. It isn't something you need to change all the time. So it is essential to take care of business the first run through.

At last, except if you are DIY fellow and have done comparative establishments previously, it is smarter to have the staff from window Roman Blinds Liverpool store come and do the establishment for you. Getting the arrangement right is basic to the smooth working of your new mechanized blinds and shades.

Would you like to add simplicity to your life in a straightforward manner? At that point you might need to consider mechanization for your Hunter Douglas custom blinds and shades. Mechanized window medications have different advantages, for example, making your space increasingly agreeable for the duration of the day! At Designing Windows Inc. of Ocean City, MD, we spend significant time in the 2016 Red Dot Design Award winning, progressive working framework, Hunter Douglas PowerView® Motorization. With this imaginative framework, you can control your Hunter Douglas custom window medicines from anyplace on the planet utilizing your tablet, cell phone, or a remote control. This working framework is offered for most of Hunter Douglas window medicines! We offer you more data beneath with the goal that you can check whether the upsides of mechanized blinds and shades might be a solid match for your home!

Advantages OF MOTORIZED BLINDS AND SHADES

Accommodation - This advantage is incredible as it permits you to control your blinds and shades without moving and furthermore from anyplace on the planet as long as you have Internet association.

Wellbeing - This is an astonishing advantage, as mechanized blinds and conceals will expel ropes from your window medicines. Strings can be risky to the two kids and pets.

Vitality Efficiency - This advantage is extraordinary as it permits you to set your window medications distinctive various occasions of they day, controlling the measure of daylight that enters your home!

POWERVIEW® MOTORIZATION FOR BLINDS AND SHADES

Window blinds are a very popular choice for house owners keen on installing blinds, shades or drapes at their places. Similarly, these Motorized Blinds Silver Spring MD can be used for several different purposes. The two basic and sole reasons behind the installation of a motorized curtain are to protect the privacy of your place. Additionally, motorized blinds can be employed for efficient protection of your place from cold blowing winds in winter and direct exposure to hot rays from the sun. Protection from ultra-violet radiations is very necessary as it has harmful effects on your furniture and additionally makes you place warm in summers.

As referenced previously, we represent considerable authority in the imaginative Hunter Douglas PowerView® Motorization working framework. In addition to the fact that you have the capacity to control your custom window medications utilizing your tablet, cell phone, or a remote control, yet in addition with the new PowerView Pebble® Control. Additionally, utilizing the PowerView® App enables you to open the maximum capacity of your PowerView® Motorization, including picking up the capacity to make tweaked room Scenes that permit your shades to work autonomously during various times. You can situate your window medicines to your careful wanted position dependent on your individual light, protection, and generally speaking room vibe inclinations. You likewise can utilize the timetable component to program your Scenes to enact on explicit days and times. There is likewise another component that permits you to interface your Scenes to your nearby dawn and dusk times.

Like most Birmingham mortgage holders, you presumably figure introducing mechanized blinds and shades in your home would be entirely cool. You can raise or lower the shades or tilt the blinds for the perfect measure of light sifting. Who wouldn't need that sort of comfort at the pinch of a catch?

Be that as it may, for a great many people, "entirely cool" is definitely not a sufficient motivation to introduce them at this time. Yet, imagine a scenario in which we revealed to you that, alongside the additional comfort, there are other significant motivations to introduce them. The following are the main five reasons you need mechanized shades and blinds in your home.

#1: Safety of your kids (and of others!)

Childproofing is setting down deep roots, and it is continually improving. We presently have things that keep minimal ones from an assortment of family unit risks. We childproof our pantries that have synthetic concoctions in them, and keep kids from opening ways to dangerous zones. Brilliant electrical outlets prevent kids from staying things into them that will cause a stun. Endless mishaps have been stayed away from and numerous lives have been spared from disasters that were regular previously. Be that as it may, ropes from blinds are as yet a significant strangulation peril present in many homes.

An examination by the American Academy of Pediatrics gives us how genuine the issue is. Somewhere in the range of 1990 and 2015, more than 16,000 kids in the United States were treated for wounds brought about by window daze lines. While the greater part of these episodes were not perilous, 271 youngsters kicked the bucket from their wounds. Anybody would concur that even one such demise is too much. The utilization of mechanized blinds and shades expels the dangling strings. This makes them substantially more perfect for any property holder that has youngsters. It likewise evacuates the chance of threat to youngsters who are visitors in the home.

#2: You have hard to arrive at windows.

A few homes have custom windows that go up to the roof or are situated behind furnishings. Here, mechanized blinds and shades can transform a troublesome activity into an easy one. There's no compelling reason to climb hazardously to accomplish your ideal lighting. You additionally spare time from drawing them open or shut individually in difficult to arrive at places. Simply hit a catch on your remote control or cell phone to quickly make the ideal lighting.

#3: They are important as a component of your Smart Home arrangement.

Nowadays, comfort is requested in each part of our lives. In the event that there is certainly not a one-contact technique for getting what we need, we feel like innovation is allowing us to down. Additionally, there are endless cases around the house where mechanized shades and blinds prove to be useful. For example, you'll love the capacity to easily bring down all the shades on the double. This is immaculate to wipe out any glare when you're prepared to begin a film or turn on the major event.

Besides, home robotization begins the second that we wake up. By mechanizing your blinds and shades, you give yourself two choices to begin your day. To begin with, you can open the shades to give you the daylight you have to spring up. Furthermore, you can close them to dispose of that undesirable light emission that is wrecking your last rest. Every one of these very regular situations make having mechanized blinds and shades a genuine success.

#4: Security and significant serenity.

Regardless of whether you're away for a night or a month, it's pleasant to in any case feel in charge of your home. Set up clocks for your blinds or remotely raise and lower your shades. This will lose any eventual interlopers or simply give your plants a couple of additional beams on a radiant day.

#5: The speculation pays for itself.

Lines are risky to youngsters, yet they additionally abbreviate the life of your window covers. Children and pets will in general play with the ropes, which frequently harms them. Surprisingly more dreadful, somebody can pull the unit directly out of its sections or oust them. This leaves you with the undertaking of fixing a huge opening in the mortar or divider. Who needs that?

Fortunately you can mechanize and computerize numerous sorts of window medicines. It doesn't make a difference in the event that you have roller conceals, vertical blinds, or roman shades. Regularly, a mortgage holder hoping to sell their property will move up to extravagance blinds so as to expand its resale esteem. Since mechanizing your window covers will build their life expectancy, why not appreciate the advantages now? Improving your house is an extraordinary venture whether you are wanting to sell your home.

To put it plainly, having pretty blinds and shades ought not be something that you put off. Mechanizing them as a major aspect of your full home robotization offers you numerous advantages. Alongside comfort, you get expanded security, worth, and genuine feelings of serenity at the bit of a catch. Until you have them in your home, you truly don't have the foggiest idea what you're passing up.

At The Shade Shop, changing over your window medicines to mechanized blinds and mechanized s

#Motorized Blinds Silver Spring MD

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all-things-are-nothing-to-me · 5 years

Text

The Sun Still Rises

Knowledge chooses its project, each project is new and chooses its moments, each moment is new, but simultaneously emerges from the memory of all the moments that existed before

— The Interior of the Absolute

1. The Beginning

The Fire Cells Conspiracy revolutionary organization didn’t begin its activity from out of nowhere. It wasn’t as if a straight line had cut through space and time. It was a future crying out from the past. The Conspiracy comprised a collective synthesis, connecting the backgrounds and viewpoints of all who participated in it and drawing valuable conclusions from past experiences of subversive projects and attacks we took part in.

It represented our desire to take a step further, not to climb some ladder of informal hierarchy that fetishizes violence and its methods, but to simply advance, move forward, and explore new perspectives, making the shift from a “bunch of friends” to an organization, from the sporadic to the consistent, from the spontaneous to the strategic.

Along the way, we assumed a critical stance toward the past, but we never went out of our way to be hostile. We are anarchy’s misfits, born from its potent moments and gaping voids. Additionally, the goal of critique and self-critique is not to put an end to something, but just the opposite: it’s an aspiration to evolve something. The fact that we’re not going to elaborate a corresponding critical review right now doesn’t mean we’re afraid to recognize our mistakes. Rather, it’s because that kind of examination is better served by distance and cool nerves than by impulse.

During no phase of our brief, intense history did we lose our collective memory of the anarchist milieu we come from. We also feel we discovered something we have in common with comrades who began the struggle before us, engaged in their own battles, were arrested and imprisoned, but never lowered their heads. We discovered the unrepentant passion for revolution that connects histories and realities of struggle from different decades in a shared context of individual and collective liberation.

In that context, we forged our own alphabet. Speaking the language of direct action, we openly raised the issue of creating organized infrastructure. As anarchists, we often distance ourselves from the concept of organization because we equate it with hierarchy, roles, specialization, “you must,” and obligations. However, words acquire the meanings given by the people who use them. As the Fire Cells Conspiracy, we stormed into battle over the meaning of revolutionary anarchist organization.

2. The Path from Spark to Flame

From the very beginning, we rejected the idea of a centralist model and chose to start from the basis of individual initiatives that wanted to collectivize. What emerged during organizational meetings were issues of coherence, consistency, individual and collective responsibility, and direct action as a means of transforming our words into deeds. At group meetings, each comrade had the opportunity to propose a plan of attack, thereby opening up a debate on planning, timing, political analysis, and operational problems posed by a given target’s location. During these discussions, there was no guarantee that we would reach agreement. Opposing arguments sometimes developed into a powerful dialectic, especially regarding the strategy and prioritization of timing, and quite often there was more than one proposal, so we then had to choose which we were going to select and which we were going to keep in “storage” to be refined in the future. It was a process that allowed us to open our minds; broaden our horizons; learn from one another’s different experiences; vigorously defend our opinions; figure out how to recognize our mistakes; understand the concept of shaping something together; become conscious of the need for strategy; and — most important of all — create relationships not in the name of some “professional” revolutionary goal, but based on friendship, true comradeship, and real solidarity.

We love what we do because it contains our entire essence. Therefore, the “Conspiracy” isn’t just all of us together, it’s also each one of us apart. Even in cases when there wasn’t collective agreement on a particular action, we didn’t resort to “begging” from the prevailing democratic majority. Instead, the minority of comrades who insisted on carrying out the attack took the autonomous initiative to move forward with their choice. That happened in parallel with the rest of the collective, which supported them at specific times if necessary, naturally playing a part in our overall organization.

That’s why a number of communiqués were signed by groups (Nihilist Faction, Breath of Terror Commando, Terrorist Guerrilla Unit) that arose out of each separate initiative. During the second phase, after reaching agreement, whether as the entire collective or as a separate initiative, we planned the attack. Each one of us contributed our knowledge; information was culled from newspapers, magazines, and the Internet; the area where the action was to take place was reconnoitered and mapped; the approach to and withdrawal from the target was laid out (avoiding cameras and police checkpoints), including alternate routes in case something unexpected happened, and of course keeping in mind the eventuality of a confrontation with the pigs. There were also support groups, “hideouts,” ways of asking for help, etc. (In a future manual, we will analyze and explain our experiences, which are related to how we perceive what is going on while an attack is being carried out.)

During the third phase (which was never far removed from the initial proposal about target selection), we worked on the text of the communiqué. When a topic was suggested (for example, attacking the police), the comrade who made the proposal argued for its content. Then a discussion began, during which each person fleshed out the concept, expressed disagreements, pointed out problems, and offered other ways to approach the topic. As soon as the debate finished, no matter how many meetings were needed to finish it, the collective brought together the central themes of all the meetings and shaped the main axes around which the communiqué would be written. The writing of a communiqué on a specific topic was usually shared out among those who wanted the responsibility, and after it was written, we got together to read it and make corrections, additions, and final touches. If the communiqué was connected to a separate initiative, then the comrades involved in that separate initiative were responsible for writing it.

The same process held for our Thessaloniki comrades, and when we collaborated as the Athens-Thessaloniki Fire Cells Conspiracy, comrades from both cities coordinated those actions based on principles of mutual aid and comradeship.

3. “Everyone Does Everything”

Of course, we’re well aware of the dangers lurking within each collective project that aspires to call itself antiauthoritarian — the appearance of informal hegemony and the reproduction of corrupt behavior, of which we are enemies. We feel that the purpose of power is to divide. To eliminate the possibility of the emergence of any informal hierarchy within our group, we struck directly at the heart of specialization and roles as soon as they surfaced. We said: “Everyone does everything.” Everyone can learn and devise ways to steal cars and motorcycles, fabricate license plates, forge ID cards and official documents, expropriate goods and money, target-shoot, and use firearms and explosives.

Therefore, it was and continues to be important to us that the means and methods we use for our actions be straightforward and relatively simple to obtain and prepare, allowing them to spread and be used by anyone who decides to move toward the new urban guerrilla warfare. These include gasoline, jerry cans, camping gas canisters, and candles that can easily be obtained at a supermarket, but also improvised timing mechanisms that — after the appropriate “research” in technical manuals and guides available on the Internet, plus a little innovative imagination — anyone is capable of fabricating.

We certainly aren’t forgetting that, while “everyone does everything,” each person also has their own separate abilities and personal inclinations, and it would be a mistake to gloss over those differences. With desire and mutual understanding as our guide, each of us undertook to do what we felt most capable of. For example, if someone was a good driver or a skillful thief, or perhaps had a knack for writing, that didn’t mean their creative abilities would be suppressed in the name of some false collective homogeneity. It was up to each comrade to offer their abilities and methodologies to the other comrades without making a “sacrifice” of their own participation, and it was even better if that happened in the broadest possible way, going beyond the narrow context of the collective and facilitating access by the entirety of the antiauthoritarian current — for example, through the publication of practical guides like those released by some German comrades, which contain a number of different ways to make explosive devices.

Additionally, our actions never involved fixed, immutable roles. Without resorting to the cyclical rotation of tasks, which recall compulsory work hours, all the comrades took advantage of a common foundation that allowed them to be able to execute any task at any time during an attack. The process of improving your ability to use materials and techniques is naturally a continual process of self-education. Along those lines, we want to emphasize how crucial it is to simultaneously develop a group’s operational capacity as well as its revolutionary viewpoint. At no point should the level of sterile operational capacity intensify without a corresponding intensification of thought and discourse, and the same obviously holds true for the converse. We had no central committee to designate roles. There were only particular tasks within a specific plan — positions that changed according to the desires of the comrades who took part.

4. Guerrillas for Life

We’ve always felt that an organization doesn’t necessarily have to be exclusive to the comrades who are part of it. Our action neither begins nor ends within the context of the group. The group is the means to revolution, not an end in itself. Because when the means become their own raison d’être, “diseases” begin to appear, like vanguardism, the armed party, and exclusive orthodox truth.

Through the Fire Cells Conspiracy, we say what we believe in, who we are, and what tendency we represent, but in no way do we say that someone has to precisely follow some so-called correct line or participate in our group in order to be recognized as a comrade.

Thus, we ourselves have also taken part in processes apart from the Conspiracy, like joining coordinated action networks, attending assemblies, participating in marches and demonstrations, supporting attacks and acts of sabotage, putting up posters, and painting slogans. But we never thought one thing was superior to another. That’s because the polymorphism of revolutionary war consists of an open and permanent commitment that has nothing to do with fetishized spectacle (embracing armed struggle as the only thing that matters) or accusatory fixations (insisting on the quantitative characteristic of “massiveness” as the criterion for revolutionary authenticity). On the contrary, we position ourselves as enemies directly against the “polymorphism” of café gossip, speeches in university auditoriums, leadership roles, followers, and all those conservative fossils of dogmatism and habit that act as parasites within the anarchist milieu, wanting only to control young comrades, sabotage them, and prevent them from creating their own autonomous evolutionary path through the revolutionary process.

We believe that the concept of the anarchist urban guerrilla isn’t a separate identity one assumes only while engaging in armed attack. Rather, we feel it’s a matter of merging each person’s private and public life in the context of total liberation. We aren’t anarchists only when we throw a Molotov at a riot police van, carry out expropriations, or plant an explosive device. We’re also anarchists when we talk to our friends, take care of our comrades, have fun, and fall in love.

We aren’t enlisted soldiers whose duty is revolution. We are guerrillas of pleasure who view the connection between rebellion and life as a prerequisite for taking action. We don’t believe in any “correct line” to follow. During the past two years, for example, new urban guerrilla groups frequently posed the issue of robberies and expropriations from the banking machinery as yet another attack on the system. Their communiqués and claims of responsibility are powerful propaganda for the rejection of work via holdups and robberies directed at the belly of the capitalist beast — the banks — with the goal being individual liberation from the eight-hour blackmail of wage-slavery on the one hand, and collective appropriation of and direct access to money for infrastructural needs and revolutionary projects on the other.

We are exiting the scene of urban guerrilla warfare’s past ethical fixations, which rarely took a public position on the issue of revolutionary bank robbery. We feel that there is now plenty of new urban guerrilla discourse and practice that opposes — in a clearly attacking way — the bosses’ work ethic as well as the predatory banking machinery, proposing armed expropriation as a liberatory act, and obviously not as a way to get rich.

Nevertheless, we don’t consider the expropriation of banks to be a prerequisite for someone’s participation in the new guerrilla war. There is one revolution, but there are thousands of ways in which one can take revolutionary action. Other comrades might choose to carry out collective expropriations from the temples of consumerism (supermarkets, shopping malls) in order to individually recover what’s been “stolen” and use those things to meet each person’s material needs, thereby avoiding having to say “good morning” to a boss or take orders from some superior. Still others might participate in grassroots unions, keeping their conscience honed — like a sharp knife — for the war that finally abolishes every form of work that enriches the bosses while impoverishing our dignity.

We feel the same way about voluntarily “disappearing” to go underground. The fetishization of illegalism doesn’t inspire us. We want everyone to act in accordance with their needs and desires. Each choice naturally has its own qualities and virtues as well as its disadvantages. It’s true that when a group voluntarily chooses to go underground (“disappearance” from the environment of family and friends, false papers, etc.), that certainly shields them from the eyes of the enemy. But at the same time, their social connection to the wider radical milieu is cut, and to a certain point they lose a sense of interaction. Of course, the same doesn’t apply when there are objective reasons for going underground (arrest warrants, a price on one’s head), in which case clandestinity is the attacking refuge of those caught in the crosshairs of the law. This creates a parallel need for the existence of support infrastructure, both among guerrilla groups themselves as well as within the wider antiauthoritarian milieu, that will “cover” the tracks of wanted comrades. Prerequisites would be a certain complicity and discretion, which concepts are frequently seen as “outdated” but in our opinion should once again be launched piercingly into battle. If comrades from a guerrilla group engage in regular above-ground interaction — participating in movement meetings and processes, taking part in debates, and creating projects with others that address shared concerns — then the hermetic nature of the guerrilla group should clearly be protected from open ears and big mouths. Therefore, it’s general attitude also must be one of discretion in order to circumvent the deafening exaggerations that can turn it into a “magnet” for bastards from antiterrorist squads and the police. Taking a page from our own self-critique, we must mention the fact that many of us behaved completely opposite to the above, which — along with the viciousness of certain conduct originating within the anarchist milieu — “guided” a number of police operations right to us. In any case, self-critique lays down solid ground from which to develop oneself and offer explanations, but the current text isn’t appropriate for that. We’ll return to it in the future.

5. The First Phase of the Conspiracy and the Proposal for the “New Conspiracy”

The guerrilla has finally escaped the pages of books dealing with decades past and taken to the streets with ferocity. Because the urban guerrilla doesn’t offer utopian freedom. She allows access to immediate freedom. Accordingly, each person begins to define herself and liberate herself from society’s passivity.

There is now noise everywhere — the marvelous noise of widespread destruction — as well as the requisite revolutionary discourse to follow bombings against targets that serve domination. A determined armada of anarchist groups is setting fire to tranquility in the middle of the night, groups with names that reflect the “menu” they offer the system (in Athens: Deviant Behavior for the Spread of Revolutionary Terrorism, Warriors from the Abyss/Terrorist Complicity, Revolutionary Conscience Combatants, Lambros Fountas Guerrilla Formation; in Thessaloniki: Chaos Warriors, Attacking Solidarity Cell, Arson Attack Cell, Schemers for Nighttime Disorder, Fire to the Borders Cell, Combative Conscience Cell, Revolutionary Solidarity Cell, etc.). Many of these groups are also experimenting with a new international liberatory project as accomplices in the alliance known as the International Revolutionary Front/Informal Anarchist Federation.

Those of us who have taken responsibility as members of the Fire Cells Conspiracy are not intimidated by the dozens of years in prison the courts have in store for us. To begin with, we are creating an active collective inside prison.

We know that, for us, the opening phase of the struggle has been completed. However, we also know that nothing is over. The Conspiracy will not remain disarmed. It will continue to be a valid commitment in prison, as well as an open proposal to the antagonistic sector of the metropolis.

The Fire Cells Conspiracy proved itself as a network of cells, just like its name suggests. Right now, we’re not attempting to go over its operational record. We simply want to clarify its political perspective.

We feel that committing to a new Conspiracy most closely approaches the essence of the word, so we are opening up that possibility by making a proposal for a new Conspiracy comprising a diffuse, invisible network of cells that have no reason to meet in person, yet through their actions and discourse recognize one another as comrades in the same political crime: the subversion of Law and Order. This Conspiracy would consist of individuals and cells that take action, whether autonomous or coordinated (through call-outs and communiqués), without needing to agree on every single position and specific reference point (e.g., nihilism, individualism). Instead, they would connect on the basis of mutual aid focused on three key points.

The first point we are proposing in this informal debate is agreement on the choice of direct action using any means capable of damaging enemy infrastructure. Without any hierarchization of methods of violence, comrades can choose from rocks to Kalashnikovs. However, direct action on its own is just another entry on the police blotter, so it should be accompanied by a corresponding communiqué from the given cell or individual claiming responsibility and explaining the reasons behind the attack, thus spreading revolutionary discourse. The pen and the pistol are made from the same metal. Here, let’s note that the Conspiracy of the period that is now over never dismissed any incendiary method in its arsenal. It would be disingenuous of us if some young comrade thought that using the name of a new “Conspiracy” was conditioned by the use of supposedly superior methods (e.g., explosives). The new urban guerrilla warfare depends much less on operational methods than it does on our decision to attack power.

The second key point of agreement is to wage war against the state while simultaneously engaging in a pointed critique of society. Since we are revolutionary anarchists, we don’t just talk about the misfortune caused by power and the ruling oligarchy. We also exercise a more comprehensive critique of the way in which the oppressed accept and propagate the promises of happiness and consumerism offered by their bosses.

The fact that we engage in struggle against the state doesn’t mean we blind ourselves to the diffuse complex of power that administers contemporary interpersonal relationships. Antiauthoritarian discourse frequently alters and generalizes a concept like the state, relieving the rest of the people who constitute society of their responsibility. In doing so, it creates a sterilized viewpoint that treats entire social sectors as revolutionary subjects, whether called proletariat or oppressed, without revealing the individual responsibility each one of us assumes in the enslavement of our lives.

The state is not a fortress. You won’t find any door that leads you to some kind of machine or engine that can be turned off by throwing a switch. The state is not a monster you can kill with a stake through the heart. It’s something quite different. We could compare it to a system: a network comprising thousands of machines and switches. This network doesn’t impose itself on society from above. It spreads throughout society from within. It even extends to the sphere of private life, reaching into and touching our emotions at a cellular level. It molds conscience and is molded by it. It connects and unites society, which in turn nourishes and sanctifies it in a continuous exchange of values and standards. In this game, there are no spectators. Each one of us plays an active role.

— Costas Pappas, No Going Back

The enemy can be found in every mouth that speaks the language of domination. It is not exclusive to one or another race or social class. It doesn’t just consist of rulers and the whole potbellied suit-and-tie dictatorship. It is also the proletarian who aspires to be a boss, the oppressed whose mouth spits nationalist poison, the immigrant who glorifies life in western civilization but behaves like a little dictator among his own people, the prisoner who rats out others to the guards, every mentality that welcomes power, and every conscience that tolerates it.

We don’t believe in an ideology of victimization in which the state takes all the blame. The great empires weren’t just built on oppression. They were also built on the consent of the applauding masses in the timeless Roman arenas of every dictator. To us, the revolutionary subject is each one who liberates herself from the obligations of the present, questions the dominant order of things, and takes part in the criminal quest for freedom.

As the first phase of the Conspiracy, we have no interest in representing anyone, and we don’t take action in the name of any class or as defenders of “oppressed society.” The subject is us, because each rebel is a revolutionary subject in a revolution that always speaks in the first person to ultimately build a genuine collective “we.”

The third key point of agreement in our proposal regarding the formation of a new Conspiracy is international revolutionary solidarity. In truth, our desire to apply all of ourselves to creating moments of attack on the world order may cost some of us our lives, with many of us winding up in prison. “We” doesn’t refer to the Conspiracy or any other organization. It refers to every insurgent, whether they are part of a guerrilla group or taking action individually on their path to freedom. As the first phase of the Conspiracy, our desire and our proposal to every new cell is that the full force of revolutionary solidarity be expressed — a solidarity that cries out through texts, armed actions, attacks, and sabotage to reach the ears of persecuted and imprisoned comrades, no matter how far away they may be.

The solidarity we’re talking about doesn’t require those showing solidarity to express absolute political identification with the accused. It is simply a shared acknowledgment that we are on the same side of the barricades and that we recognize one another in the struggle, like another knife stuck in power’s gut. We therefore also propose support for the Informal Anarchist Federation/International Revolutionary Front, so that it can function — as demonstrated by the Italian FAI comrades — as an engine of propulsion.

From this point on, any comrade who agrees (obviously without having to identify herself) with these three key points of the informal agreement we are proposing can — if she wants — use the name Fire Cells Conspiracy in connection with the autonomous cell she is part of. Just like the Dutch comrades who, without us knowing one another personally but within the framework of consistency between discourse and practice, attacked the infrastructure of domination (arson and cyber attacks against Rabobank) and claimed responsibility as the Fire Cells Conspiracy (Dutch Cell).

We feel that a network of such cells, devoid of centralized structure, will be capable of far exceeding the limits of individual plans while exploring the real possibilities of revolutionary coordination among autonomous minority structures. These structures — without knowing one another personally — will in turn be able to organize arson and bombing campaigns throughout Greece, but also on an international level, communicating through their claims of responsibility.

Since we live in suspicious times, we should clarify something. Actions claimed using the Fire Cells Conspiracy name that aren’t consistent with any of the points we’ve laid out and don’t take the necessary precautions to prevent “damage” to anything other than the target of the sabotage will definitely arouse our suspicion, given the likelihood that they will have been hatched by the state.

Returning to our proposal, “anonymity” with regard to personal contact will reinforce the closed nature of the autonomous cells, making it more difficult for the police to “compromise” them. Even the arrest of one entire cell that forms part of the new Conspiracy wouldn’t lead the persecuting authorities to the other cells, thereby avoiding the well-known domino effects that took place in our time.

In the past, the fact that that we first-phase comrades may not have been involved in certain incidents never stopped us from publicly expressing our support or our critique, and the same applies to the present if new comrades choose to use the organization’s name. Without needing to know one another, through the communiqués that accompany attacks we can begin an open debate on reflections and problems that, even if viewed through different lenses, are certainly focused on the same direction: revolution.

Consequently, we first-phase comrades are now assuming responsibility for the discourse we generate inside prison by signing as the Fire Cells Conspiracy, followed by our names.

The new “Conspiracy” will maintain and safeguard its customary independence, writing its own history of struggle. This significant continuation will surely connect the dots on the map of rebellion, sweeping them toward the final destination of revolution.

6. The Epilogue Has Yet to Be Written

Through our actions, we are propagating a revolution that touches us directly, while also contributing to the destruction of this bourgeois society. The goal is not just to tear down the idols of power, but to completely overturn current ideas about material pleasure and the hopes behind it.

We know our quest connects us to many other people around the world, and via this pamphlet we want to send them our warmest regards: the Fire Cells Conspiracy in the Netherlands; the FAI in Italy; the Práxedis G. Guerrero Autonomous Cells for Immediate Revolution and the ELF/ALF in Mexico; the ELF in Russia; the anarchists in Bristol, Argentina, and Turkey; the Autonome Gruppen in Germany; the September 8 Vengeance Commando in Chile; the comrades in Switzerland, Poland, Spain, and London; and everyone we’ve left out, wherever the rejection of this world is in bloom.

This text has no epilogue, because praxis will always continue to nourish and transform itself. We’re just making a quick stop, concluding with a few words someone once said:

It’s an astonishing moment when the attack on the world order is set in motion. Even at the very beginning — which was almost imperceptible — we already knew that very soon, no matter what happened, nothing would be the same as before. It’s a charge that starts slowly, quickens its pace, passes the point of no return, and irrevocably detonates what once seemed impregnable — so solid and protected, yet nevertheless destined to fall, demolished by strife and disorder... On this path of ours, many were killed or arrested, and some are still in enemy hands. Others strayed from the battle or were wounded, never to appear again. Still others lacked courage and retreated. But I must say that our group never wavered, even when it had to face the very heart of destruction.

— Fire Cells Conspiracy: Gerasimos Tsakalos, Olga Economidou, Haris Hatzimichelakis, Christos Tsakalos, Giorgos Nikolopoulos, Michalis Nikolopoulos, Damiano Bolano, Panayiotis Argyrou, Giorgos Polydoras

#greece #extinction rebellion #insurrectionary anarchism #nihilism #ccf

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idolizenews · 5 years

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JULY SCHEDULE.

Idolize schedules are a narrative opportunity to incorporate into your threads what's going on in the current musical and promotional landscape. They range over a number of things, from brand deals to charting information and reflect trends and changes over time in the narratives of each group. You can redeem up to 15 points, with 5 points redeemable per each 4/4 thread completed with another muse in your prompt. Prompts will incorporate variable numbers of groups under each heading and these groups will change with the prompts each month. In order to redeem the points, you must begin the thread within the month of the schedule's posting. Additionally, points for multiple threads may only be redeemed in the case that the threads are completed with different muns each time, rather than just different muses.

SUMMERTIME SADNESS involved > Aurora, Celeste, MayDay, Heaven

It’s time for the yearly summer battle of the girl groups. In competition are Aurora, MayDay, and surprisingly Celeste instead of Heaven. It’s a decision from 99 that has many fans scratching their heads, angered that the company decided to promote POIZN instead, along with a single Heaven member’s solo (some akgae fans have been up in arms declaring there is still more favoritism to be found under the roof of 99). Celeste has been the surprising dark horse, pulling ahead with the number of digital downloads and listens from the general public. This has expanded their schedules, and the girls have been invited to perform at a number of festivals and have even nabbed a few visual CFs for summer products, like swimwear and fruit drinks. Fans of Aurora have been critical of Midas promoting the girls so closely after MayDay, which MayDay fans are quick to point out probably wouldn’t be a problem if MayDay wasn’t outperforming Aurora, who seem to be on a slow decline.

Regardless, the album still made good sales numbers with Aurora’s strong fandom power. DKDK, however, has really put MayDay front and center despite not being able to nab any wins. Of course, none of the groups really stood a chance with Atlas’ latest release. Unfortunately, none of these groups were able to get a win. It’s said that there have been rumors of animosity behind the scenes between both Aurora and MayDay, as Midas tends to back whoever makes more money which puts Aurora in a precarious position. Heaven are in flux at the moment, unsure of 99’s plans. For the time being, they have been giving large periods of rest and have been granted the opportunity to follow their own personal schedules, barring a summer concert promoted by Umbrella Tree Corp that involved Heaven, Celeste, and MayDay. Midas cited that Aurora was too busy filming a v-live reality show in Jeju to appear.

THE INFECTION SPREADS involved > POIZN, Imperial, Zenith

99 has never been a perfect company, but these days the fans are saying that these words still give them too much credit. The latest happenings with POIZN have been particularly chaotic. While they had a brief, soaring revival with Love Scenario, their follow ups were met with critical reception and disinterest from the general public. 99’s expectations had been set high, but with the boys floundering in their veteran years, it caused strife within the group. Two of the group’s members have decided to break contract and attempted to sue the company, much to their fandoms dismay. While the group didn’t have much of a false bond to shatter, it did leave fans worried over what would happen to the remaining members. A PR official from 99 has gone on record stating that all of the remaining POIZN members who decided to stay will be given solo music projects, and will remain under the moniker of POIZN, even if they may no longer promote together. The boys are, at the moment, dealing with public backslash, trying to appease their fans with constant v-vlives, and also going to meetings with management to plan their new future directions.

Initially, Imperial fans were overjoyed, hoping that their group would be getting more attention. At first, it seems to be the case, with an Imperial comeback slated for August (perhaps to offset the news), as well as a few radio show appearances, but in a later statement it was revealed that investments were being transferred from POIZN to Zenith in hopes to give their boy group an edge among the competition between 99, Midas, and Koala T. on their similarly aged boy group competition. This has opened the doors for Zenith, who have landed a major brand deal with Adidas. It’s rumored that behind the scenes, Imperial members are holding major grudges toward the Zenith members for this. To try and douse the fire, 99 has placed both Imperial and Zenith on a reality show together, where Imperial ‘teach’ their junior group the tricks of the trade. Surprising nobody except the genius in management who thought of it, it has only made their relationship even more strained.

* Note that this schedule will play out IC over a few months, and narrative pann posts can keep you apprised of progress so that the switch isn’t so drastic IC.

MEDIAPLAY MADNESS involved > Atlas, Jawbreaker, XLNC

KJH, the underdogs. Fighting for victory, savoring their scraps. Or, that’s what people used to say. Now only their most delusional of fans still believe it. Perhaps because they’ve been letting this title slip from their grasp recently, they’ve been more aggressive in pushing their recent ventures that they’ve acquired: namely Jawbreaker and XLNC. How do they do it? Well, they use their selling power attached to Atlas. Their decision to use a Jawbreaker vocalist in Atlas’ recent title track angered a good number of their fans, who argued that her presence in the song was entirely unnecessary. While KJH achieved their goal of promoting Jawbreaker in the process, they are cropping up negative emotions, which fans and public alike pointing out that they’re shoehorning groups together and using too much media play in order to sell their outfit as “true artists.” Despite the critique, they’re still moving forward in the same direction, and have been packaging their groups together. Atlas and XLNC appeared together on an episode of Weekly Idol (perhaps due to the fact that XLNC wouldn’t be let on otherwise), while Atlas and Jawbreaker both modeled together for a recent line of clothing at Uniqlo. In the second half of July, they’re really tying their groups together with a KJH concert. Fans of XLNC are already in an uproar due to the rumored setlist, where XLNC will only be appearing at the start, and with only a handful of songs compared to the much longer setlist of both Atlas and Jawbreaker.

VETERAN VISIONS involved > OASiS, Olympus

While they’ve been on the block for longer than most, these groups still have high selling power. While Olympus tends to pull a higher fandom, Oasis fights back with a better reputation and claims of musicality. There’s both excitement and trepidation over the fact that these two groups are aiming to have a comeback in August. Some are saying MSG is trying to guarantee a win by slating their comeback near the beginning of August, with Olympus coming later. However, Oasis fans and Olympus antis alike are pointing out that Olympus’ last song was poorly received, and critics were quick to put the song down. Olympus has a tall mountain to climb back up, especially when their comeback is directly on the heels of Oasis, whose songs often are able to receive good reviews from music critics. Both of the groups are knee deep in preparations, with big expectations and pressure from their respective companies. There are teaser photos to take, hair to be dyed, music videos to shoot, and choreography to learn. What’s more, both boys have both landed deals with road shops. Oasis with the Saem and Olympus with Innisfree, setting them up further as pseudo-rivals. How the boys interact behind the scenes is shrouded in speculation, though with the often-unsavory rumors that follow Olympus’ personalities, Oasis fans are quick to point fingers of wrongdoing. Olympus members have been advised to watch their attitudes and expressions by management.

MARSUPIAL MAGIC involved > Koala T solo, B.rite, Divinity

This is the month of Koala T, or that’s what the marketing team keeps saying the KT management anyway. With Celeste already striking higher than expected in the girl group battle royale, they’re really pushing hard for the rest of their outfit in a way that doesn’t look as all in as it seems behind the scenes. Management has been disgruntled at the progress of their company, and while B.rite has been showing steadily rising selling power, they’re still too much in direct competition with boy groups from major companies (99 and Midas respectively) to really put their stamp on the industry. Thus, KT’s CEO is pushing for better company reputation and power, and to do this the rest of their artists need to start standing in the spotlight as well. This is a two step process of saturation and international outreach for their weaker acts. B.rite is slated with a later August comeback and are thus immersed in preparations. This comeback has been strategically placed between Oasis and Olympus, both groups who are all but guaranteed wins. B.rite will be able to get extra views by promoting on the music shows with both, as well as an excuse for no awards won. How the boys feel about this doesn’t really matter to the company.

While Divinity just had a comeback, one member has been selected due to public appeal to go forth as the first solo on Divinity’s roster. They’ve gone with image over direct talent, and how this will play out remains to be seen. While this member is in prep, the rest of the girls have been instructed to film multiple v-lives, as well as dance or vocal covers of their sunbae groups or other popular artists to try and gain attention. KT’s soloist is rounding out the itinerary, a collaboration effort fielded with a 99 soloist in hopes that it will gain a larger following from the general public. They’re hoping for an explosive reception at the end of July, and the pressure is on this artist to really perform to their greatest capability (while in no way, shape, or form getting involved with 99’s soloist past musical decisions). There have been a few cosmetics companies reaching out to the soloist, KT ultimately accepting an advertisement from Banilla Co. on their behalf.

POSITIVE PATHWAYS involved > PRiSM, indiGO, MSG’s solo

MSG has had a well received year thus far with these members all wrapping their promotions to positive reception. indiGO has been trending as a household name, and has proved they have staying power on the charts, this paired with their recently found fandom after re.group means that they have been getting a lot more offers rolling in that previously. The boys have nabbed a few brand endorsement deals promoting various foods, beverages, and the popular bingsoo chain sulbing -- all for goods that appeal to the general public who are easy to recognize them. Prism have similarly been picking up praise and attention, though perhaps not quite to such a mainstream of a degree as indiGO. Still, the girls have been accepting more jobs with group photoshoot spreads for magazines, interviews on their recent success, and a recent brand deal with Etude House. Together, MSG has named them both a collaboration CF with Sketchers which will be filming in mid-July. Much the same as the former two groups, MSG’s soloist has also been spreading the company’s recognition with photoshoots, appearances on various shows such as You Heeyeol's Sketchbook, and is rumored to be filming a new drama of sorts. They’re really rounding out MSG’s expectations, and have been making the public take a closer look at the artists in their label.

MONEY GRAB involved > 1nferno, r!ot, 99’s solo

Summer means festivals, and it also means money from vacationers looking to come and see their favorite singers in person. 99 can be slow to promote, but they’ve at least has enough sense to take two of their artists who aren’t promoting at the moment and send them on a festival circuit together. This has been done for little decision other than convenience, though fans of 99’s soloist have been making jokes of how he has to play babysitter toward 99’s girl group. How he feels about this, and about being sent packaged with a girl group, has not been touched upon. In between these schedules, 99′s soloist is set to record and feature on KT’s solost latest single, set to release in late July. R!ot is using this as a chance for exposure, though it does have some rolling their eyes due to the fact that the girls only really have one title track underneath their belt. However, most of those criticisms are given to 99 for not giving them more music to promote in the first place. 1nferno has been seen overlapping these artists at many of the same events, likely due to Midas’ adage that there is always money to be made somewhere. With no promotions and nothing to prep for in the immediate future, it’s an obvious decision for the company to send 1nferno out to make money, how the boys feel about it or how tired they may or not be has always come secondary. All three have been meeting with fans after shows for small fan-signs or high-touch events.

#id.schedule

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biscuitreviews · 5 years

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Biscuit Reviews Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey

When I first heard of the announcement for Assassin’s Creed Odyssey I had no interest in this entry, especially when I saw the first gameplay footage and noticed how it followed the style of Assassin’s Creed Origins. With that, I also figured that Odyssey would contain many of the faults of Origins, especially since it was coming out one year after despite Ubisoft stating that they were going to not do yearly releases for the series anymore. I was originally going to do a Side Seat Review for this game, observing the gameplay and story but not actively play it. However, after watching my wife’s first play session it really impressed me and the next day I went to get a copy for myself and would play alongside my wife, with her as Kassandra and me as Alexios.

This is a first for the longtime series and this approach allowed us to see how these choices evolved and impacted the story. Both characters will follow the same story in the game.

Once selected, you’ll then be living their life during the Peloponnesian War, where your character is a mercenary during the war. They take on a contract to kill a Spartan General which prompts them to pursue the mystery of their family. This is nice change of pace from the standard Assassin’s Creed character plot of Templars kill family member, protagonist angry and goes to seek revenge, a plot that has been used in the majority of titles with the exception of four of them (Assassin’s Creed, Assassin’s Creed: Revelations, Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag, and Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate).

As stated earlier, your choice impacts the story and it’s those choices that determine how certain events will play out. For this being the first time Assassin’s Creed introduces this, I was actually fairly surprised how well Ubisoft managed to execute this. I really felt that my choices had an impact to the overall story.

Both Kassandra and Alexios have great moments in the story and both voice actors deliver excellent performances. There are a few scenes where Kassandra does perform better than Alexios and the same can be said to Alexios as he has scenes where I felt he had the better performance. Both protagonist will even approach a few scenes in different ways as well. A good example of this is the scene where you encounter a character known as the Cyclops of Kephallonia. Kassandra approaches the scene with a playful intimidation making her a mercenary to not take lightly but still , whereas Alexios approaches the scene with a sarcastic edge. Despite being the same line, the approach that both voice actors took with the same line was a cool way to see how it played out.

As mentioned previously, Odyssey continues the gameplay shift that Origins began, turning the Assassin’s Creed series from an open world adventure, to an open world RPG. Where Origins had a weird hybrid with RPG mechanics where everything was dependent on your character’s level, meaning if an enemy was as much as one level above you, you were in for a bit a tough fight. Odyssey however has made the full leap, with obtainable gear, skill trees that the player can place skill points in, in accordance to their gameplay style, and abilities that can be performed in battle. The biggest improvement is even if enemies are one level above you, you can fight them with no issues. Even enemies that are quite a few levels above you, as long as you use the proper abilities, dodge, and parry at the appropriate times, you can take them down.

Another vast improvement is assassinations. In Origins, it didn’t matter if your hidden blade was upgraded to the max, an assassination did not guarantee a instant kill for certain enemy types. So, my initial concern was how assassinations would be handled. With Odyssey, it’s all dependant on specing your skill points in the right abilities in the Assassin Skill Tree, as well as your Assassin Damage stat. If spec’d appropriately, you can easily take down enemies with an assassination no matter what type of enemy they are, bringing back the satisfaction of sneaking up on enemy and killing them without being seen. With that being said there are a few instances where level is still too much of a determinant factor. Although this was a more tolerable issue, I still found it annoying to meet what I feel was a arbitrary number.

One of the new gameplay additions to Odyssey comes in the form of Conquest Battles. In these battles you can side with either Sparta or Athens. The purpose of this is allow one of the nations to gain control of the region of Greece the Conquest Battle takes place. It is then you’ll fight in a battle killing Soldiers from the enemy nation until either your chosen side or the enemies’ meter becomes empty. A successful battle can lead to rewards, however, during the Conquest Battles, I participated in, I found that the rewards I gained were not worth the effort that I put in. I also felt that this feature could have possibly been more woven into the story as a variable that caused minor things to happen, but it proved to be nothing but a meaningless distraction that carried no weight.

Naval exploration and combat also makes a return to this entry and in this one I feel is an understandable downgrade. In Black Flag you have many customizable options for your ship as well as various tool and weapons in the combat. With Odyssey, all you have are arrows and javelins which again is an understandable downgrade considering the time period Odyssey takes place.

The notoririty system also makes a return with some changes. You gain notoriety by having your crimes witnessed by someone. As it climbs up, you will eventually have a bounty on your head where mercenaries will hunt you to claim the bounty. I thought this was an interesting factor as you could be in a middle of infiltrating a fort or in a fight and a mercenary could appear to give you a little bit of an extra challenge. I was however disappointed with how witnesses were handled. This is the first Assassin’s Creed game where you can kill civilians without getting a potential game over. Ubisoft had a chance to further expand stopping witnesses to a crime, a mechanic made famous by Red Dead Redemption, just with their own spin, but Ubisoft didn’t seize the opportunity to do so which left me disappointed.

As far as the controversial aspect on how the game feels artificially grindy to pressure players to purchase the XP booster, I didn’t feel pressured at all. When I mentioned this to my wife she brought up the point that the game has many opportunities for you to gain experience. There was an abundance of quests and activities for you to gain experience. For the players that wanted to simply focus on strictly the main story, which is the side that argues that the game felt artificially grindy, my counter argument for that is that Odyssey does not follow the traditional Assassin’s Creed formula to where you can focus on the main story and not worry about side content. This is an RPG and in an RPG, you have to partake in side content to get stronger and gain additional equipment. It was even like that in Origins where you had to partake in side content to get stronger and I didn’t see any accounts of complaining at that moment so I’m a bit confused as to why this seems to be an issue with Odyssey for the community.

I will add that is rather dirty of Ubisoft to include an XP booster and other boosting items in the game that you have to purchase with real money as a way to try to get extra money from players. In the words of Jim Sterling “If you’ve made a game that people want to pay to not play and they want to pay to skip it, you’ve made a shit game.” Although I don’t believe that Odyssey is a “shit game”, it’s actually the most fun I’ve had with an Assassin’s Creed title since Black Flag, it is concerning that these boosters are included and it does make me concerned that Ubisoft could potentially start doing this in not only Assassin’s Creed, but their other franchises as well.

I know that Ubisoft has had purchasable shortcuts for a while now in their games and although they never interfered with the game before, the fact that they are now offering a purchasable shortcut for XP progression is something that could be a potentially dangerous trend in the RPG genre, especially for Triple AAA games. I am concerned about it because there are already reports of people buying this XP booster and saying how much more of an enjoyable experience the game was and one article even called it it’s “best feature”. I fear Ubisoft will keep this in their titles moving forward and it’s also something I feel they’ll slowly inch towards, making XP gains less and less with each passing title.

As a long time Assassin’s Creed fan, this has become my new favorite game in the series. So much so that I actually plan to play the DLC content at a later time because I had that much fun with it. I hope Ubisoft continues to make improvements to the Assassin’s Creed formula and hopefully we can see a return to following an Assassin or even another Templar for that matter.

However, I feel that fans and players do need to keep a closer eye on these purchasable shortcuts as I am afraid that this could get worse overtime to the point where a player would have to purchase one of these boosters to do even the most basic of progressions. Until then, we as players must continue to push back on the “time-savers” and microtransactions to where they affect the core gameplay.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey receives a 4 out of 5

#Assassin's Creed #Assassin's Creed: Odyssey #AC #AC:O #Ubisoft #Alexios #Kassandra #Greece #video games #gaming #video game review #game review #gaming review #biscuit review #xbox one #ps4 #PC #games #polygon

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whirlybirbs · 6 years

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PREVIOUSLY ON #BITTERCOFFEE | THE MASTERLIST

summary: #bittercoffee. in which the reader is ghosted after the date with bucky and tony stark is to blame. but, an internship opportunity at the tower has her ready to bite back. rating: mild swearing and a brainiac reader. fight me. word count: 1.6k a/n: my bittercoffee!reader is about to fuck shit up. sorry for the lack of buck-o in this one. he’s coming up next part. enjoy!

Bucky doesn’t come in for coffee the next morning.

And when you text him, wondering sweetly if maybe he had “avenging to do”, your text is met with silence. Nothing. You don’t text him again until late that night when you’ve hiked back from the shop in the rain. You ride the subway in silence. You have your earbuds in. No music. Your body rocks with the train. Your fingers move quick across your phone screen.

I hope everything’s okay?

You make it to your apartment, sad and somber and angry. You’re soaked to the bone and weighed down. The growing anxiety that Bucky had decided you weren’t worth his time, or maybe he didn’t like you enough was eating away at you, and though it feels childish, you cry. It’s muffled into the sleeve of your NYU sweatshirt.

Marissa comes in, having heard the quieted sobs, and offers you some microwaved pizza. You decline, to sick on sadness to think about eating.

“Sometimes boys just don’t work out,” she said, “No matter how much we like them.”

You look like hell, and the next morning? Still nothing. No texts, no Bucky. The coffee shop is slow and empty thanks to the rain. You feel the same way. You try not to let Matt into the inner turmoil, but he knows something’s not right.

You push the feelings down and away and pretend you’re fine.

You do for the whole week.

And then you begin to think you’re never going to see Bucky Barnes again.

Until, one night, on your walk back from campus, you notice you’re being followed. It’s a taxi - or at least you’d thought - until it follows you to the subway stop and a man in a suit steps out. He’s bigger, no older than his mid-forties, looking less than pleased with the rain. He sits in the same subway cart as you, gets off at the same stop. He walks past your apartment, though, and from your dining room window you watch him climb into another car. A black Lincoln.

The license plate reads ‘HAPPY’.

The back window has a Stark Industries decal on it.

You begin to notice more of strange little things like this - the same man comes in and gets coffee one morning. You pretend you have no idea who he is, but your heart rate is pounding and you’re half-convinced he’s going to gun you down at register one.

He doesn't though. He sits, he watches, he sips his coffee. You think maybe this is some kind of intimidation play.

You stand your ground though; you even bus his table, smiling and asking him how his day is.

When he’s leaving, you snap a picture of him, pretending to snapchat, and you save it.

Sniped.

You reverse image search him when you get home that night and land a positive ID. You’re hunched over coffee and the notes surrounding your midterm thesis paper around integrated militarized biotech. The blue light of your laptop illuminates the room, and you cheer, mouth full of popcorn, when you nail his name down.

You think maybe Bucky would be proud of you. You’re a good sidekick. But, well, that ship has sailed. Your heart hurts a little bit thinking about him.

The guy from the shop is Harold Hogan. Personal bodyguard and trainer to the one and only Tony Stark.

You begin to note more Stark property along your walk to work. The building across from you has been bought out. Apparently some housing project Stark is working on. You learn to look at the license plates. The Avengers Tower decal for parking is minuscule but apparent if you know where to look. It includes security clearance.

You’re clearly being watched.

And then your wifi starts to act up, too. Through some more backwards engineering, you delve into the internal system codes of the apartment router and find that a external proxy has been set up. Your cookies, data, history and any and all saved files are being copied and routed to an apartment in Queens. You get the IP address. You track it to a May Parker.

No doubt a relation to Peter Parker.

No doubt you were being watched thanks to that Stark Internship.

You call Bucky that night, curse him out on his voicemail - it’s long winded and angry and maybe you had a little bit too much wine - and tell him to tell Stark to fuck off. You don’t hear anything back, but you’re sure someone got the message -- if anything, Stark probably tapped into your cell long ago.

Things are starting to stack up against Iron Man.

You’re starting to think maybe there’s a reason why you haven’t seen Bucky Barnes. That reason has got to be Tony Stark.

You’re not sure why, but you can’t let it go. You know deep down it’s because you like Bucky far too much for it to just slip your mind. You didn’t date often -- and Bucky was pretty. Handsome and funny and shy and… Sad. You find yourself worrying about him, wondering if he’s walking around Brooklyn late at night, trying to find himself. You hope he’s okay. You regret telling him he ‘fucking sucks’ on his voicemail the other night.

So, you start to formulate a plan. You think about sauntering right into the Tower downtown, strolling up the reception and asking for Tony Stark -- but no doubt the man was busy, and there was no guarantee security wouldn’t drag you out kicking and screaming when they explained he wasn’t there and no, you couldn’t speak to him.

Email was a no-go. He’d probably just ignore it. Phone, too.

You could knock on Peter Parker’s door and interrogate the high schooler for information on why you’re being watched. But, you knew why you were being watched -- it was because you knew too much about Bucky Barnes.

Then, when you think you’re shit bum out of luck, an opportunity falls into your lap. Trips and lands. You catch it by the throat.

Your last class of this particular Thursday is a lab; normally running about four hours, it leaves you hungry and tired and wanting nothing more than to bolt home and kick start your homework. Though working on your actual conceptualized thesis is fun, time seems to drag on.

But, today, you were talking internships.

“You know,” your professor’s name is Sarah -- she insists you call her Sarah -- and she’s sweet. The class is dominated by men mostly, so she excitedly chatters with you when she can. You like it. Sarah leans against your lab bench after the small lecture. You’re soldering some wires together on the mechanisms functions panel, “I have a certain internship in mind for you.”

“Oh?” you say, a smile tugging at your face, “Please, enlighten me.”

Sarah laughs. “I got an email earlier this week… NYU typically isn’t one of the Universities gets these type of offers, but… Stark Industries is looking to hire.”

You feel the color drain from your face. “Stark Industries, huh?”

“They’re looking for medical students, actually,” she murmurs, “But, I want you to apply. You’re biomedical and you’re great, so if anything, they’ll be even more interested.”

“Have you… put my name down on anything yet?”

Please say no, please say no.

“No,” she says and you nearly cheer, “But, the interviews are next Monday -- are you interested? I can always email them back --”

“No!”

Sarah nearly jumps back.

“I mean -- yes, I’m interested,” you reassure her, gloved hand touching the sleeve of her lab coat, “I’m just thinking maybe don’t let them know who I am or my major or...? They might discriminate because of the medical thing…”

Totally not because of other reasons.

“Right!” Sarah hums, “You’re so right. And the best part? You’ll be surprising Tony Stark.”

You nearly laugh in her face. “Are you saying…”

“He’s doing the interviews -- some special involvement campaign, I guess. He wants to get to know our grads, get to know who he’s hiring. After the whole H.Y.D.R.A. infiltration thing, it makes sense. A lot of grads have turned it down, but I can dig up some recommendations for you. You can bring them with you --”

“Please do,” you grin, hands clasped in a tight ball, “You’re the best.”

Sarah grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she claps you on the shoulders. “I’m so excited!”

Me too, Sarah. Me too.

It’s 8:30 am, Monday morning.

Marissa is looking at you like you have three heads.

You’re tugging on your patent leather heels, sweeping your hair into a professional looking bun. The romper you have on is black with a dipping neckline -- your blazer is bright red. You feel like you could kill a man with a single look. It’s a confidence boost. You need all the help you’re going to get.

“So... you’re meeting with Tony Stark. For the internship.”

“Well,” you mumble, bobby pin between your teeth as you fix your bun, “Not really.”

Marissa blinks down at your resume. In fine print, along the top, under your name, it reads:

‘Please, ask me about my slideshow!’

“You… You have a slideshow.”

You swivel your laptop across the kitchen counter. The screen glows alive with the slideshow in question.

Marissa’s jaw drops. She reads from the title slide.

“Why I’d Like Tony Stark to Fuck Off?”

You shoot her an award winning smile, sweeping your resume and faux cover letter into a protective cover. It slips neatly into your handbag and you yank the memory drive from your laptop as well.

“Is this some activism stuff?” she mumbles, “Anti-Avengers propaganda?”

You pause.

“Sure.”

And with that, you’re out the door. Behind you, Marissa shouts.

“Let me know if I have to bail you out of jail!”

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delicatelyrainystudentunive-blog · 5 years

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The most effective method to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-precedents

Your marriage gathering will assume a colossal job in your big day festivities, going about as an emotionally supportive network (and additional arrangement of hands!) when you require them. So why not acquaint them with whatever is left of your visitors with a unique yell out on your wedding site?

Wedding party profiles have turned into a sweet method to customize your wedding site, as well as break the ice before the huge occasion. Be that as it may, with regards to composing a portrayal for every one of your wedding party individuals… well, where would it be advisable for you to really start?

In case you're as of now taking a seat to compose your wedding site areas and searching for some wedding gathering bio precedents and thoughts, you're in the opportune place!

Continue perusing for some bridesmaid and groomsmen bio guides to draw motivation from, and our supportive wording tips and manners rules to kick you off, as well.

the most effective method to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-examples Photo via Cara Robbins Studio

Why Include a Wedding Party Bio?

Allows first get clear on the real reason for including wedding party profiles on your wedding site. I'm not catching their meaning, and would they say they are extremely essential?

Wedding party depictions are basically a short presentation for your bridesmaids and groomsmen, displayed on your wedding site for visitors to peruse before the day. While it may appear to be anything but difficult to skirt this segment, we by and by believe it's an imaginative method to present the key individuals from your festival and make them feel somewhat uncommon!

The principle motivations to consider including marriage party bio's on your wedding site include:

Breaking the ice with visitors who might be new to various individuals from your wedding party

Enabling visitors to comprehend your association with every wedding photography in Delhi gathering part and how they fit into your life

What's more, in particular, demonstrating your appreciation and gratefulness for the general population who are assuming such a major job for your extraordinary day!

Not exclusively are wedding party bio's a handy method to acclimate your visitors with each other, however they additionally enable you to express profound gratitude to your bridesmaids and groomsmen, as well. Many wedding web architectures incorporate an instant area for marriage party bio's at any rate, so why not exploit it!

the most effective method to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-examples Photo by Ashtyn Brooke Photo

What to Include in Your Wedding Party Bio's

Presently how about we burrow somewhat more profound and discussion about what to incorporate as you take a seat to expound on your wedding party.

The principle focal point of these short depictions ought to be your association with every individual. How precisely do they fit into your life? What sort of history do you share? How might you depict this individual to an outsider?

Rather than basically posting viable actualities like age, occupation and area, center around the more close to home side of things like recollections, encounters and identity characteristics.

You should need to begin with a brisk meeting to generate new ideas for every individual from your wedding party utilizing the accompanying prompts:

Attempt to concoct a couple of dab focuses for every one of your bridesmaids and groomsmen. This will give you a lot of material to work with as you push ahead with the following stage!

the most effective method to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-examples Photo by wedding photography in Delhi.

The most effective method to Write Your Wedding Party Bio's: Tips and Examples

When you've conceptualized a few points for the individuals from your wedding party, you would now be able to begin pulling these together to finish each bio.

Try not to stretch – marriage party portrayals are best kept quick and painless! Like your "About Us" story and welcome message, your wedding party profiles extremely just should be a couple of sentences long.

You may pursue an organization, for example,

first sentence: How you met and how your relationship created

second – third sentence: Favorite recollections and encounters shared together, amusing tales or peculiar certainties

fourth sentence: Personality qualities you cherish about them, what's in store from them at the wedding

You can compose your wedding party profiles in first or third individual – pick whatever feels the most normal for you. With regards to tone and wording, it's best to keep things cheery, grateful and amicable. Fusing some cleverness is likewise an incredible method to make these portrayals engaging and drawing in for visitors!

So what does this look like in real life? Look at the accompanying marriage party bio guides to kick you off:

"Jenny and Sally initially met in London amid a University trade program and rapidly ended up indivisible – holding over their mutual love of lychee martinis and outdated R'n'B! In the wake of exploring through India together and a 5-year stretch as flat mates, it's protected to state Jenny knows Sally superior to anybody. We adore Jenny for her enormous heart, shameless comical inclination and capacity to locate the amusing side of each circumstance!"

"Johnny is Harry's more youthful sibling, and the person you'll discover in a large portion of his movement collections on Facebook. From snowboarding treks to angling rivalries and surfing safari's, there's very little this adrenaline-adoring team haven't done. Johnny is additionally one of the quirkiest individuals we know – and with moves like his, we have no uncertainty he'll be the first up on the move floor at the wedding!"

"Jemima isn't just my future sister-in-law, yet in addition one of my dearest companions. From the minute we met, she greeted me into the family wholeheartedly and made me feel comfortable! We've since shared a lot generally night karaoke sessions, sushi dates and unscripted television long distance races (with a lot more to come!). She has an irresistible snicker and can generally make us laugh out loud with her senseless jokes."

"Saskia is my more established sister, closest companion and all-around astounding human. She's likewise one of the most astute individuals on earth, as of late graduating best of her class with Honors in Engineering. Sally wants to banter about everything without exception, so make sure to discover her on the day in case you're up for a decent discussion (that is in the event that you can keep up!)."

"Craig has been my best mate for about 10 years now after first gathering in secondary school. Sharing an affection for angling, footy and climbing, I likewise have Craig to thank for setting us up on our first arranged meet up – and rapidly turning into our privileged "awkward extra person wheel" for the numerous dates that pursued. Craig is a standout amongst the most faithful individuals I know, and I couldn't be more joyful to make them remain close by on the day. Listen up for his best man discourse, which will no uncertainty be loaded up with humiliating stories from our school days!"

Keep in mind, you picked every individual from your marriage party which is as it should be. So just bring an outing through a world of fond memories and compose from the heart!

step by step instructions to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-examples Photo by Alex Lasota

Imaginative Wedding Party Bio Ideas

Wedding party profiles don't need to exhaust. Truth be told, they can be a standout among the most engaging components of your wedding site through and through!

Get innovative with your marriage party profiles to truly customize this area and draw in your visitors. In case you're hunting down some fun wedding party bio thoughts, think about the accompanying:

Ask your wedding party individuals to compose a bio from their point of view

Utilize an idiosyncratic heading on your wedding site, for example, "The Bride Tribe", "Meet the Gents", "Our I-do Crew"

Present every part with a slogan that mirrors your relationship, similar to "Sly accomplice", "Most loved previous flat mate" or "Head angling pal".

Incorporate your most loved photograph together (with their consent)

Commission a stationery craftsman to make a portray or cartoon for every individual

Host your wedding gathering answer a "becoming more acquainted with you" test

Incorporate your pet as a privileged wedding party part with their own special bio

There's no lack of imaginative approaches to put your very own stamp on your wedding party depictions. Try not to be hesitant to have a fabulous time with it!

the most effective method to compose your-wedding-party-profiles wording-tips-and-examples Photo by Valorie Darling Photography

Wedding Party Bio Etiquette

Before hitting "distribute" on your wedding party profiles, it's critical to remember some behavior rules. While we're in support of making these portrayals engaging, recollect that your whole list if people to attend will have the capacity to peruse them, as well. The exact opposite thing you need to do is humiliate or affront anybody inadvertently.

With regards to what not to incorporate into your marriage party profiles, we'd prescribe avoiding subtleties like:

Regardless of how happy your jokes may appear, it's simple for things to be misjudged on the web. Spare the cheekier jokes or increasingly enthusiastic feelings for your wedding photography in Delhi discourse and keep your profile's warm and positive.

You may likewise need to convey your profile's to every individual from your wedding gathering to get their endorsement before hitting distribute. Along these lines you can guarantee everybody is in agreement, without unsettling any quills.

Observe Your Wedding Party

While composing your wedding party profiles may appear to be an overwhelming errand, it's unquestionably advantageous. All things considered, these are the general population will's identity remaining close by on the greatest day of your whole life – so why not praise them!

Just keep these wording tips and wedding party bio models at the top of the priority list to enable you to make something your marriage party (and your visitors) can appreciate. You have this!

#Best candid wedding photographer in Delhi #candid wedding photographer #Best Wedding Photographer

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earlyandoftenpodcast · 6 years

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(A rather unflattering portrait of a young Thomas Hutchinson)

In this episode, we begin the first of a two part look at the life and career of Thomas Hutchinson, one of the last governors of colonial Massachusetts, and one of the last politicians of the old-school Puritan style.

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Transcript and Sources:

Hello, and welcome to Early and Often: The History of Elections in America. Episode 31: Thomas Hutchinson.

Over the last few episodes, we’ve followed the history of several New England colonies through the middle of the eighteenth century, seeing how their cultures changed and how a new way of thinking about politics emerged, in which partisanship and factionalism replaced deference and restraint.

Today, we’re going to zoom in even further on this change, by focusing in on the life and career of one Massachusetts politician in particular, Thomas Hutchinson. We’ve already briefly heard about Hutchinson back in Episode 27. He was the contemporary historian who wrote the first major history of Massachusetts.

He was also a career politician, who was in office pretty continuously from 1737 to 1774. So his career spans most of the period we’ve been discussing. And it also spans these two political mindsets, the deferential and the partisan.

When Hutchinson was first elected to the General Court, it was as an old school politician, in that quasi-oligarchic way, but as the years passed the ground slowly shifted under his feet and, as we’ll see, he became increasingly out of step with the citizens he was trying to serve. Although he kept climbing the political ladder, eventually becoming governor shortly before the American Revolution, he also became a hated figure within the colony. In particular, he remained loyal to the British empire even as public opinion was shifting violently in the opposite direction. In the end, the War of Independence overwhelmed him and he spent his last years in an unhappy exile in England.

But let’s start from the beginning.

Thomas Hutchinson was born in 1711. He was a descendant of Anne Hutchinson, that religious dissenter who had been expelled from Massachusetts in the 1630s and gone on to become one of the founders of Rhode Island. But her descendants didn’t live up to her legacy of rebellion.

Since then, the Hutchinson family had spent the last few generations as merchants, slowly climbing up the economic and social ladder. By the generation before Thomas, the family had done pretty well for themselves and his father served as a magistrate in the upper house of the General Court for 20 years. According to the historian Bernard Bailyn, “They were accumulators, down-to-earth, unromantic middle-men, whose solid, petty-bourgeois characteristics became steadily more concentrated in the passage of years until in Thomas, in the fifth generation, they reached an apparently absolute and perfect form.”

A studious child who preferred reading to playing, Thomas Hutchinson began attending Harvard at age 12, a few years younger than normal. His class had only 38 students in it. Obviously Harvard was a bit different than it is today. It was a finishing school for elite teenagers as much as anything.

In fact, that sort of elitism was built into Harvard. At the time, Harvard ranked its students by the "supposed dignity” of their families. So students who came from prominent families were ranked higher, which determined who ate first in the dining hall and other symbolic things like that. Like modern legacy admissions on steroids I guess. It was very clear who was on top. And according to historian Richard R. Beeman, “those rankings had real relevance to political success later in life: in the eighteenth century if a general court representative had ranked in the top half of his Harvard class, he had an 80 percent chance of emerging as a significant leader of the House.” Further evidence for that old deferential politics I keep talking about. Hutchinson was ranked third out of 38. So pretty good.

He graduated with a master’s degree after three years. Afterwards, he got to work further improving his family’s position. He was a hard worker and I suppose being a merchant came very naturally to him. According to Beeman, “By 1776 he had increased the original capital inherited from his father fifteenfold; he owned eight houses, two wharves and assorted lots and commercial properties in Boston, and a wonderful ‘country’ home on a hundred acres in Milton, Massachusetts”. So under Thomas, the Hutchinson family’s self-improvement continued at a rapid pace.

Like most people back then, his life was marred by personal tragedy. He had 12 children, but only 5 survived infancy, and his favorite daughter died of tuberculosis in her early 20s, while his beloved wife died in childbirth. He never remarried afterwards, which was unusual.

So, what sort of person was Hutchinson? In his own words, “My temper does not incline to enthusiasm.” And that sounds about right. He was bland, maybe somewhat priggish. According to Bailyn, almost none of his contemporaries even described his personality in any detail. Nothing beyond calling him a “very good gentleman” or “a young gentleman of exact virtue [and] a good natural sense”. While he was an influential guy, I don’t think his personality left a big mark on anyone. He dressed plainly, he didn’t have much of a sense of humor. Even his writing was dull, according to Bailyn. Hutchinson carefully edited everything he wrote to avoid any unnecessary provocations. Bailyn describes his account of the American Revolution as “one of the most impersonal, bland, and circumspect accounts of revolutionary events ever written by a participant”.

Well, it may have been bland, but apparently he was a good historian by the standards of the day. He was careful with his facts and he took pains to be fair to both sides of every issue, unlike almost all of his contemporaries.

But, all in all he was a very buttoned down guy. A petty-bourgeois Puritan merchant down to his core.

Though actually in religion he was no old school Puritan. He remained with the Puritans his whole life, but by disposition he preferred a modern, tolerant, rational church. He didn’t care too much about doctrine. In fact, he himself said that he was sympathetic to Anglicanism and that if he’d been born an Anglican he would’ve remained one. Puritanism for him was more a matter of tradition than anything else.

Maybe that’s not too surprising, since his openly acquisitive career as a merchant would have been a bit frowned upon in previous generations. I’ve been calling him a Puritan, but it might be more accurate to say post-Puritan. The rigidity and uprightness -- or self-righteousness, maybe -- of Puritanism remained, even as the religious fervor receded. He tried hard to make money, but he was no big spender. He tried hard to move up in political life, but he was full of self-doubt.

Hutchinson began his political career at a very young age. He was only 26 when he was elected to the lower house of the General Court as a representative from Boston. He was by no means a beloved politician, but he was respected for his “disinterestedness and integrity” in the words of one contemporary.

Back then, service in government was mostly seen as a chore. Political office didn’t pay very well, and traveling to the capital was often burdensome in both time and money. There were opportunities for corruption and nepotism, but the financial benefits were much smaller than today, especially relative to the other options at hand. Still, it would’ve been expected that someone like Hutchinson would do his duty.

He immediately joined the house’s leadership and just nine years later he was chosen as speaker, the highest position in the lower house. This was a much faster career path than most politicians would’ve been on. More typical would’ve been to start out as a selectmen or some other town official and stay at the local level for a while before being sent to Boston. It helped a whole lot to have been born into a prominent family like that. It almost guaranteed you a position in the assembly’s leadership if you wanted it.

It was expected that politicians would come from well-established families -- and the higher the office the more well-established the family should be. Plenty of politicians in the modern era come from prominent families of course -- think about the Kennedys or the Bushes -- but back then it was an expectation, something that was seen as actively desirable.

Money was part of it. It was thought that wealthier men would be more immune to corruption, especially since holding office didn’t pay well. In the words of one New Englander, “a clear Estate and Independency of Fortune is no unnecessary Qualification, as it frees a Man from those Temptations which attend a State of Poverty.”

And it was thought that poor men would not be able to command enough respect to rule, if they somehow got elected to high office. How could you expect anyone to be respectful towards a poor guy? After all, it was the rich who were clearly blessed by God.

Not every small town was filled to the brim with rich people, but it was still the relatively well-off who got elected. For instance, in New Hampshire, less than a third of the representatives elected were farmers. Most were merchants, lawyers, doctors, etc. Two thirds had estates worth at least 2000 pounds, and a third had estates worth 5000 pounds, which was considerable, for back then. In the three largest Connecticut towns, three quarters of the offices were held by men belonging to the richest 10%. Even for minor offices like highway surveyor, you were expected to be of the appropriate social class.

But it wasn’t just money that counted when determining which families or individuals belonged to the social elite. Education also mattered, although of course only the wealthy could afford to give their children a college education like Hutchinson had. You were also expected to be religiously devout and a generally upstanding citizen. The idea wasn’t just to vote for the rich guy, it was to vote for the guy who was outstanding in numerous ways, only one of which was directly about money.

But even if this attitude wasn’t per se oligarchical, it still meant that power was restricted to a small group. According to John Adams, “Go to every village of New England, and you will find that the office of justice of the peace, and even the place of representative, which has depended only on the freest election of the people, have generally descended from generation to generation, in three or four families at most.”

So although New Englanders supported popular government, that meant something very different to them than it did to us. Social elites were expected to be in charge and they were expected to be above the need to campaign or to directly appeal to voters. In fact, open ambition to run for office was itself seen as a sign that you were untrustworthy. Of course, in practice there was plenty of maneuvering and politicking, but candidates often tried to keep up the appearance of disinterest, saying stuff like, “Oh I have no interest whatsoever in holding office, but if called upon by my fellow citizens to do so, then I guess I have no choice in the matter.”

Related to this was the idea that you shouldn’t vote for someone because they agreed with you on policy, you should vote for the man with the highest character. The idea that voters should have a say in policy was objectionable, not desirable. It was assumed that popular opinion was too fickle for men to govern themselves directly. Rulers had to be willing to push back against public opinion and do the Right Thing when necessary for the greater good.

In fact, you might not even know what policies your representative supported. Sessions of the General Court were closed to the public, and no minutes were taken. They didn’t even record vote tallies until 1740. Before then they just said which bills passed and which didn’t. And after 1740, they still only recorded the votes on particularly important or contentious bills, like for the land bank, say. So it was almost impossible to even figure out how your representative was voting, which meant that there was no way to hold them accountable for their policy views, if they even had any clear views in the first place.

And politicians were expected to remain above factions and parties as well. You were instead supposed to exercise independent judgment in all things. That was also more of an ideal than something that could always be practiced, but it was still an important standard for the New Englanders. Basically, they wanted to vote for a patrician statesman rather than a grubby politician. And that was a pretty standard attitude in the other colonies as well, though of course the specifics varied from place to place.

Sometimes this deference could be taken to ridiculous lengths. For instance, the election sermon given in Connecticut in 1713 basically argued that elected governors had a divine right to rule. “In Elective States, where persons are Advanc'd by the Suffrage of others to Places of Rule, and Vested with Civil Power, the Persons Chusing give not the Power, but GOD. They are but the Instruments of Conveyance.” In the words of another Connecticut minister, to resist the will of the leadership was “as it were to wage War against GOD himself.” Even if they were elected, officials got their power from God and not the voters. Supposedly.

Hutchinson himself wasn’t quite that melodramatic. He was more of a pragmatist. What mattered in government was not the principles you adhered to, but whether or not you got good results. For example, even as he disapproved of much of old-school Puritanism, he admired the society which they had built in New England. But he was certainly happy to keep the people out of politics. If the people became too involved, then, in his words, “the interest of party prevails over all other considerations, virtue, religion, private friendship, and public good are all sacrificed to it.”

Undoubtedly Hutchinson had self-interested reasons for thinking that it was good that men like him should have unquestioned dominance, but it wasn’t just the elite who thought this way. Practically everyone did, at least nominally, though I’m sure you could find a thousand exceptions.

We’ve seen in the last few episodes how this elitism is being eroded, but it’ll linger on for a long time, well after independence. The Federalist party, which was the very first political party in America, and which had its base of support in New England, was the heir to this tradition. The Federalists weren’t believers in the sort of populist democracy that would come to define America. They were more old-school. And in fact that was their downfall, since they were unable to connect with voters the same way their less elitist opponents were, not unlike the Old Lights in Connecticut.

It was hard to keep up the pretence that your elected rulers were divinely ordained when they were so obviously bending over backwards to get your vote, and when the other party was constantly slinging mud at them. And when Americans were given free rein to vote for who they liked, the emphasis in politics naturally shifted from representatives as leaders following their own best judgment to leaders as servants of the people. What previous generations had seen as rightful dominance was seen by their children as burdensome if not tyrannical. As one later election sermon put it, “Societies were not formed for the sake of Rulers, but Rulers were made for the sake of Societies.”

You can still hear rhetorical echoes of the old colonial mindset from time to time, and I’m sure to some of my listeners it sounds rather appealing compared to the endless tumult of modern politics. But I don’t think it was ever more than metastable. It might last for a while, but sooner or later it was going to collapse into a modern democracy.

Anyway, back to Massachusetts in the 1740s. This was a time when the money supply was becoming a big issue again, one of the factors that was slowly eroding elite dominance.

Hutchinson, when writing about this period in his history of the colony, tended to downplay the importance of the currency. In his mind, the populist anger which was aroused by monetary policy was still less important than the petty factionalism within the elite. Other than monetary policy, the elite all still shared the same basic worldview, and as a result any differences between them could be bridged with a bit of diplomacy. The dispute over paper money was a partial exception to this rule, but it was only one issue. The factions disagreed occasionally, but they agreed on a whole lot more.

So most ot the time, politics was more about personality than ideology. How well did the governor get along with the members of the General Court? Was he competent? Was he a good negotiator? That was what mattered, at least in Hutchinson’s eyes. There’s probably something to be said for this view. I’ve naturally been emphasizing the conflicts within New England society, but all told things were pretty calm by world-historical standards and popular agitation was only ever intermittent.

However, “calm most of the time” does not mean “calm all of the time”, as Hutchinson was about to discover.

Now, Hutchinson, who was quite well versed in monetary policy, was a member of the hardline anti-paper money faction. He thought that paper money was necessarily some sort of scam. “Wretched”, he called it. And so he did what he could to block the creation of the land bank and so on, and even as a young man he was drawing up plans for how Massachusetts might go back to a gold and silver standard.

This put him very much at odds with his constituents in Boston. They were all for paper money and they issued instructions to Hutchinson that he should support paper money too. However, Hutchinson flatly refused, calling the instructions “iniquitous”. In his mind, he ought to be free to vote as he thought best. Voters trying to tell delegates how to act was a bad precedent.

But partly as a result, he lost his seat in 1739, though he got it back a few years later. Clearly paper money was an important enough issue that the old rules didn’t always apply. Voters were willing to punish Hutchinson, though only for a little while.

But Hutchinson didn’t learn his lesson. He kept right at it with his opposition to paper money. In fact, he was one of the principal reasons why Massachusetts ended its paper money experiment.

Back in episode 28, I somewhat briefly talked about how that happened. Let me go over it again, with a focus on Hutchinson this time. Basically, in 1749 the British had decided to give the colony some money in order to help pay for the costs of King George’s War, which had just ended. Hutchinson decided to use that money to buy back all the paper money that was in circulation, and return Massachusetts to a hard currency standard.

Now, this was still a mostly unpopular idea. Possibly opposition to paper money had grown over time, but it was still probably supported by a majority of voters and a majority of elected officials. So, in order to get this passed, Hutchinson had to use some underhanded tactics, and even then it took over a year.

He managed to get his biggest opponent expelled from the house, and then in order to get the bill passed he waited until most of the supporters of paper money had gone home for the winter. (Back then, attendance at the assembly was so low that it was often possible for the leadership to get bills passed simply by waiting until a different set of legislators happened to be in Boston and having them vote again until the leadership got the result it wanted. Yet another way in which New England politics remained unresponsive to popular pressure.)

In any case, even with these sorts of tricks, Hutchinson’s bill only passed by a vote of 40-37. But that was enough, and it soon became clear that paper money was on its way out. Needless to say, Hutchinson’s constituents were furious. He lost his next election very badly, winning only 200 votes out of 684 cast. Many other delegates lost their seats as well.

Surely this humiliation -- and Hutchinson certainly saw it as a humiliation -- would be enough to get him to change his ways, to adapt somewhat to popular pressure. Nope, not at all. He had lost his election, but that next year he was appointed to the council to make up for the loss. He was out of electoral politics, but not out of politics altogether. And of course he promptly became the most important member of the upper house. So for Hutchinson, the loss actually turned out to be another step up.

He had friends in high places, who made sure that his career remained on the right track. He was a favorite of several of the governors, because of his opposition to paper money and his abilities in wrangling the legislature into doing his bidding. He was also an important figure in helping to coordinate the war effort during the French and Indian War in the 1750s. Because of his usefulness, he kept ascending the political ladder, often holding several offices at once. He became lieutenant governor in 1758 and chief justice of the highest court in Massachusetts in 1760.

But even from those new, unelected positions, he couldn’t remain entirely insulated from popular pressure, as we’ll see next time. Change was coming to Massachusetts. A nationalist, ideological fervor was about to sweep across the country, and Thomas Hutchinson was no fan of ideology.

The historian William Pencak compares Hutchinson to Edmund Burke. If you’re not familiar with him, Edmund Burke was one of the founders of modern conservatism. He was a big opponent of the French Revolution, and he wrote a famous attack on how the revolutionaries were attempting to overthrow ancient tradition in the name of their abstract belief in natural rights. Burkean conservatism is above all else about caution towards change and skepticism towards grand theories of society.

Hutchinson had a similar attitude, although he never expressed it as fully as Burke did. He favored compromise and was against pushing principles to extremes. He favored liberty for the colonists, but not if it threatened British rule. He favored British rule, but he wanted the British to govern the colonies with a light touch that preserved as much liberty as possible. While the other colonists were busy trying to get one principal to prevail over the other, Hutchinson was busy trying to smooth over the differences. To him, principals were important, but it was better to get 75% of what you wanted, rather than risk a war to get everything.

But this attitude was, from the 1760s onwards, increasingly out of step with the times. The colonists wanted to establish firm limits on British authority, while the British wanted to show that their authority was unlimited. In such an environment where theory mattered more than practicality, compromise was becoming impossible. To Hutchinson, this was a disaster, but there was little he could do to stop it, no matter how hard he tried. And in the end, the fires of revolution would destroy him.

Next episode, we’ll continue the story of Thomas Hutchinson, and see the first flames of that revolution rise up around him. So join me next time on Early and Often: The History of Elections in America.

If you like the podcast, please rate it on iTunes. You can also keep track of Early and Often on Twitter, at earlyoftenpod, or read transcripts of every episode at the blog, at earlyandoftenpodcast.wordpress.com. Thanks for listening.

Sources:

The Ordeal of Thomas Hutchinson by Bernard Bailyn

The Varieties of Political Experience in Eighteenth Century America by Richard R. Beeman

From Puritan to Yankee: Character and the Social Order in Connecticut, 1690-1765 by Richard L. Bushman

Voting in Provincial America: A Study of Elections in the Thirteen Colonies 1689-1776 by Robert J. Dinkin

Thomas Hutchinson and the Province Currency by Malcolm Freiberg

America’s Burke: The Mind of Thomas Hutchinson by William Pencak

Power, Influence, and Status: Leadership Patterns in the Massachusetts Assembly 1740-1755 by Robert M. Zemsky

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steelehuber34 · 2 years

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southeastasianists · 6 years

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Singapore’s two main public universities have risen in global reputation, lifted by the state’s economic might. For most Singaporeans – as well as many of the region’s brightest students – getting a place to study at the National University of Singapore or Nanyang Technological University is a proud accomplishment. In several fields, our universities have become research powerhouses, worthy of mention alongside the traditional brand names of the West.

But the NUS and NTU suffer from stunted development. Even as they rise in global rankings, their contribution to the country’s intellectual life is relatively modest. Particularly in the humanities and the social sciences, they are largely absent precisely when their expertise is most needed – when complex and controversial issues call for the clarity, context and research-based insight that we academics claim to be able to provide. This retreat from the public sphere has been so complete and enduring that it is no longer noticed. It doesn’t occur to most Singaporeans that our universities could be playing a much broader social role.

I hasten to clarify that the public shouldn’t expect university departments to replicate thinktanks, which are meant to insert themselves directly into current policy debates. Given how compressed news cycles are getting, with controversies exploding and fizzling out within a week, it would be a mistake for academics to flit about, reacting to every matter that grabs people’s attention. That shouldn’t be the job of serious scholars.

But a strong university department or scholarly association should be visible in major public debates that are relevant to its field. At the very least, universities should be able to serve as honest brokers, convening discussions on challenging topics. After all, they are the only institutions in our society that give their employees the time and resources – largely taxpayer-funded – to think differently. They are not pressed to arrive at policy positions. They are not required to be popular or profitable. They can examine problems deeply, challenge conventional wisdom, clarify issues, offer insights that are counter-intuitive and keep contrarian viewpoints bubbling on the back burner for future reference. One might even say that they have a moral responsibility to do all this.

Singapore’s two public universities have very busy calendars, but their activities focus on non-Singaporean matters. While many other universities are seeking desperately to overcome their parochialism and climb university rankings by internationalising, ours have the opposite problem (rankings organisations don’t really measure a university’s local relevance – it probably hasn’t occurred to them that universities might fail to be local enough). Singapore has already emerged as one of the top centres of learning for anyone interested in Asia; it is academia’s contribution to Singapore’s own intellectual and cultural life that is lacking. Consider, for example, the government’s move to amend the Constitution to reserve presidential elections periodically for candidates from Singapore’s racial minority groups. There were individual academics interested enough to make submissions to 2016’s Constitutional Commission, but the activity fell far short of what would be considered normal elsewhere, perhaps for want of a critical mass of such scholars. In a different setting, universities would have been falling over themselves to convene public events to discuss such a major move before the parliamentary vote. Legal scholars and political scientists would explore constitutional implications and issues concerning political representation. Sociologists might want to showcase their research into ethnic identity and politics. For anthropologists, this could be an opportunity to share their research on the construction of race. In a normal developed country, local universities might run a series of public seminars on such subjects. Not in Singapore.

Some Singaporeans might feel that there is nothing wrong with universities staying focused on teaching enrolled, fee-paying students without the distractions of public outreach. But one can’t really compartmentalise a university’s mission this way. Universities have to fertilise the soil they depend on. Just as our national orchestras give free concerts at the Botanic Gardens to help cultivate an appreciation for music, research universities need to be out there showing the public that their intellectual work is worth supporting. Furthermore, schooling that’s confined to textbooks and classroom learning, by professors who show no interest in the real world passing by their window, wouldn’t amount to much of an education.

The lack of engagement in the local can compromise institutions’ ability to mount even basic Singapore-related courses. Our universities do have a Singapore studies requirement in their undergraduate curricula, but departments often struggle to mount relevant courses, sometimes relying on adjuncts or faculty borrowed from other departments. When I worked at NTU’s communication school, I taught a freshman course called Media in Singapore, introducing all communication majors to our media industries and their political, economic and cultural contexts. Since the school’s founding, this course – or earlier iterations of it – had been considered important enough to be listed as a compulsory module. But when I left, the school didn’t consider it a priority to find a replacement teacher. It simply dropped the course. After a year, the course was revived – but no longer as a core requirement; it became an elective.

The most disappointing case of going regional and global at the expense of the local must be political science at the NUS. I’ve followed public forums on local politics for decades. In recent years, one thing that has become practically guaranteed is that none of the speakers on Singapore politics will come from the NUS department of political science. To understand why, visit the department’s website and study the faculty profiles. At the time of writing, of 29 full-time faculty members, only one – a veteran now in his sixties – claims Singapore’s domestic politics as a research interest. In contrast, 22 colleagues – including all seven assistant professors – do not have “Singapore” anywhere on their research profiles or publication lists. Just five of the department’s scholars list at least one published work with “Singapore” in the title, and only two of these publications are more recent than 2013. You have to go back to Chan Heng Chee in the 1980s to find an NUS political science don who has made a seminal contribution to our understanding of Singapore politics. It’s a situation that would be unthinkable in virtually all developed countries.

Political science is an extreme but not unique case. If you scanned the research interests and backgrounds of faculty in NUS economics, for instance, you’d have a hard time guessing which country or even region the department belonged to. You might think it was based in Greater China, or perhaps in a US university with an Asia-Pacific focus. When I checked one commonly used database of scholarly articles, I was able to find 152 articles on Singapore categorised under “economics” published since 2015, but only one was by someone currently listed as a regular faculty member of the NUS economics department. The NUS accounted for about 30 other articles, but these came from elsewhere on campus, such as the public policy and business schools, and the real estate department.

NTU’s history department website suggests that perhaps three out of 22 faculty members could claim a focus on Singapore history. The history department at the NUS is more illustrious but is nevertheless short on local expertise. Consider the books that have been published on Singapore history: the National Library has compiled a useful bibliography. Of the 27 recommended titles covering Singapore’s history up to 1964, just one is (co-)authored by a current faculty member of the NUS history department.

There are two fairly obvious reasons for our universities’ C-minus performance in Singapore studies: the lack of academic freedom and the absence of a Singaporean core in many departments. Political restrictions date back to the first decade and a half of independence from Malaysia, in the 1960s and 1970s, when the government cracked down on activism in what were then the University of Singapore and Nanyang University. From the ashes, the new NUS and NTU rose like phoenixes – with a permanent phobia of the fires of politics.

In many fields, academics are also thwarted by a lack of access to government data. For this reason, one can hardly blame economists for choosing not to specialise in Singapore. Historians have a different problem. They know too much. Declassified British records in London offer a rich vein of evidence concerning Singapore’s pre-independence history – but mining this lode puts historians on a collision course with the government’s official narrative. Sadly, this has meant that young academic historians of Singapore are able to find work more easily outside the country.

It would be simplistic, however, to blame only the government. The universities’ problems are partly own goals scored by administrators obsessed by the research productivity game. This rewards those who churn out papers in so-called top-tier journals, ignoring the fact that these journals are published in, by and for the West. To illustrate how this bias works in practice, consider an American political scientist writing a 6,000-word article about voting patterns in Ohio. He can quickly get to the heart of his findings and theoretical contributions. In contrast, a scholar researching Singaporean elections would have to devote half her paper to justifying why Singapore is worth studying, and would need to explain the local context in painstaking detail for an audience of mystified journal editors – all before she’s finally able to discuss her actual study. The problem is compounded by the fact that the off-the-shelf theoretical frameworks currently in circulation were mostly developed in the US and Europe and might not fit Singapore. It’s therefore much harder for scholars working on Singapore to sail on the main theoretical currents in their fields.

This bias results from the uneven distribution of power in global academia. The US and its concerns lie at the core of most disciplines; the rest of the world is peripheral. It is a frustration familiar not only to scholars of Singapore, but also to academics in Australia, the UK, Hong Kong and elsewhere. In these other societies, however, universities put up stiffer resistance to the imposition of key performance indicators that would undermine their core mission to study their own locales. Top-tier journal publication is still prized – but not at the expense of neglecting impactful local research or teaching needs. Our universities could do the same, prioritising Singapore-focused research even if it is likely to generate lower citation scores. Bibliometrics are not ends in themselves, but merely crude proxy measures for research impact. Our university leaders and education policymakers are free to adopt different yardsticks. As things stand, the metrics don’t encourage research into our own milieu. Furthermore, it is an open secret that, in many departments, hiring and promotion decisions focus more on a candidate’s research numbers than on what he or she is able to teach – hence the problem of not having enough faculty to teach Singapore content well.

Responding to these market signals, many locals and almost all foreigners decide to focus on regional or international topics or on purely abstract theoretical work that is not grounded in any particular context. There are still scholars who, despite the disincentives, persist and study their first love – Singapore. But in many social science and humanities fields, they lack clout. The situation suits the foreign faculty who now dominate departments – and in many cases run them. Singapore is the only place in the world where foreigners can work at a top-ranked university without feeling any shame at knowing nothing about their host society; where, indeed, such ignorance is often more of an asset than a liability.

Singaporean economists Pang Eng Fong and Linda Lim have similarly commented on the lack of a strong local core in our universities ( “Singapore’s fling with global stars sidelines local talent” , News, 24 August). But one shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that foreign faculty as such are a problem. It’s simplistic to equate local origins with local commitment. Some foreigners have had a transformative impact on Singapore studies. The NUS archaeologist John Miksic is a prominent example. Others have been conscientious institution-builders for Singapore. I personally benefited from the mentorship of two such giants, Taiwan-born sociologist Eddie Kuo, the founding dean of NTU’s communication school, and historian Anthony Reid from New Zealand, founding director of the Asia Research Institute at the NUS. Philip Holden, a professor of English at the NUS, is another model foreign-born scholar. He became a respected authority on the Singapore literary scene. But after more than 20 years, he began facing problems maintaining his permanent resident status. When his application for citizenship was denied, he and his Singaporean wife decided to relocate to Canada. Hearing this sad news, a former student who had become an English teacher commented on his Facebook wall: “Without you, a generation of Singaporeans wouldn’t have known what SingLit was, and SingLit would be nowhere near what it is today.”

Whatever the mix of reasons for the lack of emphasis on Singapore-focused work, the overall pattern is striking. The government’s new Social Science Research Council is trying to come to the rescue with substantial funds earmarked for research relevant to Singapore, but the problem has never been money. Grants alone won’t counterbalance the factors weighing against independent research on Singaporean society, especially if, as with arts funding, the council denies money to projects that are seen as critical of the government.

The university has a role that goes beyond equipping and credentialing students for employment; beyond serving the needs of industry; and beyond developing its region’s pulling power as an educational and research hub – all great strengths of the NUS and NTU. It also has a civilising mission, to show how the pursuit of knowledge and reasoned deliberation are the best ways for a society to manage its contemporary and future challenges. This can be achieved only if a university is engaged with the society of which it is part. And this is where Singapore’s institutions of higher learning should do much more to live up to their stratospheric global rankings.

Cherian George, a Singaporean, is professor of media studies at Hong Kong Baptist University. This essay is an edited extract from his new book, Singapore, Incomplete: Reflections on a First World Nation’s Arrested Political Development (Singapore: Woodsville News, 2017).

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Education #Cherian George #Censorship #Southeast Asian Studies

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