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twilight-deviant · 5 months ago

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What would Foggy and Karen do when they know that Matt is dating Kingpin?

(Hey, sorry it took me so long to answer this. Thanks for the ask. ♥)

Ah, a very difficult matter indeed. Imagine finding out your friend is dating a murdering gangster so industrious he controls all organized crime down the eastern seaboard. (⊙□⊙) I think there would be a lot of, "Are you insane?!" accusations.

This ask maybe had some hopes of a happier answer, but if we're being realistic...

Foggy

I do lean hard into what a good person Foggy is. Though I believe if he found out Matt was dating Fisk, there would be another confrontation/temporary friendship divorce on par with (if not exceeding) the 1x10 Nelson v. Murdock episode. Maybe longer lasting with a feeling of finality like the S2 divorce.

However! I don't believe Foggy would stay mad and keep away from Matt forever. The friendship is too strong. The love is too deep. In both examples, it seems distance to cool off is what helps. So they take some time apart. Foggy spends every day of it expecting Matt to come to his senses and break things off with Fisk. Or for him to say "Psych, the whole thing was a honeypot mission to gather information." Or maybe Matt does end things with Fisk on his own time. (I'll ramble on and on about the foregone tragedy of a FiskMatt relationship never working long term.)

But... say it does work with Fisk, or it works for longer than Foggy can stay mad at Matt. Part of me imagines Foggy just going all-in on denial. You know at the start of S2 when they both know Matt is Daredevil but they try not to think/talk about it because it causes friction? That but Matt's romantic relationship with Fisk. Foggy doesn't want to see the man hanging around. He doesn't want to hear about him. When evidence of the relationship does pop up, it's either ignored or Foggy takes the opportunity to casually nag Matt into better choices. They'd argue about it on occasion, but overall, Foggy isn't going anywhere.

Common Foggy W in episode 3x06: "People have bailed on Matt his whole life, and I'm not gonna be one of them." (Directed at Karen who tried to convince him to not forgive Matt.)

I think if Fisk and Foggy were ever brought into some sort of coexistence in Matt's life, it would be following an extreme event. Like Matt nearly being killed, and they are both present and concerned. Foggy begrudgingly observes that a worried Fisk does care for Matt and his well-being.

Overall though, even if Foggy acknowledged the relationship, I still think he would want to see Fisk as little as possible. There's no all of them hanging out together, but maybe they're both at major events. Maybe Foggy walks into the office as Fisk is on his way out from visiting Matt, and they sort of... awkwardly nod and pass each other.

I think a lot of Foggy's acceptance would hinge on Fisk becoming a better person in some capacity, just as it would for Matt to be dating him in the first place.

And then...

Karen

I tend to avoid Karen entirely in my FiskMatt shipping. Not just because I am a total hater. (I don't want to say #1 hater because there's some a-hole out there who harasses people on pro-Karen posts. I'm like... #1 Isolationist Hater.) But it is difficult with Karen because Fisk has tried to kill her multiple times now. (You'll get her one day, boo.) And she has a whole sanctimonious vendetta against him in return (so single-mindedly focused, people have died in her pursuit). Then on the flipside, Fisk's greatest friend and support was murdered by Karen, who then threw it in his face specifically to upset him. I know Fisk and Matt have the important and featured rivalry of DD, but I also believe it's likely no two characters hate each other as much as Fisk and Karen. (You can get in the weeds about Dex's feelings towards Fisk post-Julie reveal, but blah blah blah.)

So I totally wimp out when writing FiskMatt and don't include Karen. I either won't mention her or imagine we're in some comic-adjacent setting where she died years ago. (Or my current fic where she was Thanos-snapped.) It's a pathetic avoidance of the issue because I KNOW how complicated it would be to overcome, and I guess I should probably address it one day. (〜￣▽￣)〜

It's just hard to pick the line with Karen. She doesn't even condemn murder as much as Matt, given her apologia for Frank in debate with Matt in 2x07. (Also she herself being a murderer with Wesley. Under the flimsy/inaccurate "self-defense" claim.) And then, Karen also dealt drugs in her past and committed/commits other crimes. So I guess the issue with Fisk is... scale? Someone can kill (the right) people, and deal drugs, and break the law, but like... small scale. You can guess at Karen's moral code, but I think at the end of the day, she's the only one who knows what it is.

Maybe it's specifically an "organized" crime thing? Girl hates a racket.

But since the question is what Karen would do if she found out Matt was dating Fisk... I mean, realistically, she'd give him the cold shoulder and avoid seeing him. I think Karen would try to talk/berate some sense into Matt, and it would undoubtedly come with guilt tripping. By reminding Matt who Fisk is and what he's done "just in case he forgot." (I knooow I'm being a hater, but this is canonically what Karen does every time someone disagrees with her. *insert long scroll of examples gif*)

Looking at S2 (when Karen thinks Matt is cheating on her with Elektra... and... Stick?) and S3 flashback (following the S2-Matt-is-Daredevil reveal), that seems to be Karen's decision when she's displeased with Matt. She stops coming around or talking to him. (I know she acts awkward but friendly with him in Defenders, but it's a difficult thing to take this canon into account when it was written by different people with a different agenda and continuity.) But... his apparent death in Defenders does bring her back to the friendship, becoming obsessed over Midland Circle and paying Matt's bills for when he returns. Well, then she gets mad and avoids him again when she finds out Matt was alive but not coming around. Even when Matt apologizes, she prefers to hold onto the grudge a little longer and even questions why Foggy would forgive him. This behavior resolves itself with the severity of The Bulletin massacre. But that's just it! There's always a larger event that compels Karen back into the friendship. It all begs the question of how these resentments would have concluded without external influence!

Sounds like a tangent, I know, but I hope it makes sense why I laid all that out.

I'm basically saying (imo) Karen would not accept the FiskMatt relationship. She would question Matt's own moral character for being with him. (Which is fair since Fisk wants to kill her.) I'm not certain she would come around with time (unlike Foggy), which would make herself and Matt more acquaintances than friends. (Because what could Matt say to make her forgive and forget?) And pending some momentous external event, I don't know what would resolve this rift between them.

I'm aware this is very biased due to my dislike of Karen, but I also can't imagine her reacting any other way. I'm looking at past canon behavior and extrapolating what the fallout might look like. While having nothing to go on regarding how they could fix it. There's a pattern of Matt apologizing but Karen not wanting to hear it.

But... if anyone has a different take or idea, let me know.

In Conclusion...

I think Matt is very aware of how the reveal of his relationship with Fisk could go down. Which is why he would probably keep it secret as long as possible to avoid putting his friends (and himself) in that situation. If it were only Foggy, I can see Matt maybe coming clean eventually. But with Karen involved, I think he would make the decision to never disclose his relationship. When/If it got out, it would be following unintentional discovery or an unavoidable confession. Maybe situations like:

Matt hurt bad enough to be forced to go to the hospital, and for some reason, the best doctor in the city is suddenly there. Also why tf is Wilson Fisk down the hall?

Foggy or Karen or both show up at Matt's apartment without warning to hang out. Ignore him closing the door to his bedroom. There is definitely not a career criminal in there.

Umm... so Matt's pregnant, but who's the father? He won't say, and not revealing the fact is causing its own rift. (But also imagine Matt can't admit the fact to his friends right now, so Fisk tries to be patient. He wants to be involved in the pregnancy and his child's life, but Matt keeps forcing him to remain a dirty secret. How long could it keep going? Would Fisk stop being patient about being excluded?)

Against all odds, Matt's relationship with Fisk goes the distance and they don't break up. How are they supposed to have a life together if Matt's fear forces them to lead separate lives and they can't even live under the same roof?

Just some ideas. But it's always going to be messy, no mistake.

(Errant dark thought... Imagine Matt choosing his friends over Fisk and breaking up with him, even though they don't really want to. Fisk tries to accept that decision, but eventually convinces himself of the notion that "toxic friends" are taking away Matt's choice because it's not what they want. So he arranges an "accident." Then, with the friends out of the picture, Matt will be free to make his own choices. And sure enough, the mourning hero does come back to Fisk for comfort. )

#FiskMatt #Anon you really make me want to get into the angsty swamp of writing more with Matt's friends #at least Foggy #tbh I need more with Foggy and Wesley being horrified spectators lol #Sorry for any negativity in the post #When I say I dislike Karen I mean she is one of my top 3 most disliked fictional characters ever of all time #My cynicism is strong #If Karen has one hater I'm that one #If Karen has no haters I'm dead #(Well there's that one a-hole I mentioned but I already have them blocked so they don't exist to me)#Marvel #Daredevil

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dwellordream · 1 year ago

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“Like the Christians’ Eve, the Iroquois Sky-Woman had an insatiable desire to satisfy her hunger. At first she sought her husband’s guidance, but in time she struck out on her own. Her curiosity brought her to the sacred tree at the center of the Sky-World--a place where, as she soon discovered, the floor of the sky was very thin. Losing her footing, she slipped through a hole at the tree’s base and fell headlong ‘toward the great ocean far below.’

…Like her Iroquois descendants in North America, this first fallen Sky-Woman farmed the rich earths she created, gathered its fruits, and built a hut upon it to live in. After a time, her pregnancy ran its course and, legend says, she ‘was delivered of a daughter.’ The girl and her mother continued to look after their lands till one day, ‘when the girl had grown to womanhood,’ a man appeared. He stayed only briefly--just long enough to impregnate Sky-Woman’s daughter. When her time to deliver arrived she, like many women during the premodern period, died while giving birth. Her offspring survived: two boys who would come to rule the earth their mother and grandmother had made.

…Every native group had its own account of the world’s beginnings. For the Pueblo of the Southwest, human life began underneath the earth when a woman named Tsichtinako (Thought Woman) nursed two sisters: Iatikyu, the Mother of the Corn clan, and Nautsiti, the Mother of the Sun clan. The Ottawa, an Algonquian-speaking people living in the northern Great Lakes region, traced their origins to a male figure called the Great Hare and his younger brother.

…To the Protestants of New England, the followers of the teachings of the Swiss theologian John Calvin, the devotional practices of the Catholics in New France and the Spanish colonies seemed as alien as those of the Narragansets and Wampanoags who lived among them in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. In turn, the faithful in Virginia and Maryland, who followed the orthodox traditions of the Church of England, considered New England’s Puritans to be overzealous reformers.

…Even in the most physical, tangible sense religion was a constant presence. From the stark clapboard spires that capped New England’s Congregational meeting houses, to the sturdy brick of Virginia’s Anglican churches, to the poles marking the underground kivas in which the Pueblo held sacred rituals, places of worship dotted the landscape. Each and every day, the English villages lining the eastern seaboard would have been alive with the sound of church bells.

…Every part of colonial America had its own rhythms of religious devotion--rhythms that helped women and men make sense of their lives. But nowhere did religion play a greater role than it did in early New England. Almost without exception, the leaders of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, New Haven, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island were dissenters from the Church of England.

…No matter whether they enthusiastically supported or dared to question the Puritan mission, all law-abiding New Englanders gathered in their local meetinghouses every Sunday, and often once during the week as well, to hear their preacher expound upon scripture. One perennially popular sermon topic was the nature of women. Between 1668 and 1735, women’s lives were the subject of no fewer than 75 printed treatises. Some of these tracts were funeral sermons that eulogized an especially pious female parishioner; others were more general “how-to” homilies dealing with marriage or mothering.

…Pious women were praised by ministers and neighbors alike. If they resembled any Old Testament figure, it was the industrious Bathsheba (the ‘virtuous woman’ described in Proverbs 31:10-31) rather than the perfidious Eve. Where Eve tempted, persuaded, and seduced, Bathsheba planted, prayed, and spun. Her every word testified to a womanly brand of piety: faith tempered with respectful submission. More than one New England minister echoed these verses from Proverbs, exalting the woman who ‘openeth her mouth with wisdom…in her tongue is the law of kindness.’ As the biblical passage suggested, such well-spoken women were indeed more priceless than rubies.

…In fact, New England’s ‘virtuous women’ may have been even more devoted to religious practice than their husbands and fathers. At the very least they were more dedicated churchgoers. At first, men and women joined the churches in equal numbers. Within a generation, however, women outnumbered men in many if not most of the churches in Massachusetts and Connecticut. By the mid-1700s, women comprised nearly three-quarters of many congregations.

…One of the more radical groups in the entire spectrum of dissenting English Protestantism, the Quakers granted female believers an extraordinary degree of autonomy and equality. …Converts of both sexes were encouraged to preach about their religious experiences, and one of the movement’s early and most prominent leaders was an English wife and mother, Margaret Fell. …Where Quaker women were concerned, Massachusetts authorities made the links between female preaching, rejecting ministers’ teachings, and worshiping the devil even more explicit.

…Black women and men brought a very different set of religious beliefs to the southern colonies. Their traditions concerning the supernatural were as diverse as the many African peoples from which they came. There were, however, important common threads; most West Africans believed in more than one God and made the veneration of ancestors an important part of their worship ceremonies.

…Until the 1730s, southern whites made little effort to convert their slaves to Christianity. But in the late 18th century, evangelical sects such as the Methodists and the Baptists appealed to blacks and poor whites alike. …Call-and-response hymn singing and joyful shouting are examples of African forms that influenced the style of worship practiced by both whites and blacks in many southern denominations.”

Jane Kamensky, “Daughters of Eve, Daughters of Zion: Women and Religion” in The Colonial Mosaic: American Women, 1600-1760

#colonialism #colonial #american #indigenous #history #religion #gender #christian #jane kamensky #the colonial mosaic

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briony-tallis · 3 months ago

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MORGAN SANTORIO ● THE CHOSEN ONE

I got picked to go on this mission for my tribe, ‘cause I’m pretty good with my hands, right? That's supposed to be my one job. But since I'm called "the Chosen One," word got around, and now everywhere I go there’s some town that wants me to solve their complex economic problem. And I really wish these people also knew that I barely passed grade school.

template by @jennystahl and @vitosscaletta

Biography: For his magnetism, physical prowess, and hardy constitution, Morgan is chosen by his tribe to seek out the G.E.C.K. Morgan quickly takes to adventuring out in the wasteland, impressed but ultimately disinterested in the developed towns he encounters. He is surprised that his tribal origins are met with bigotry, and must learn to pick his battles as he begins to learn just how rife the wasteland is with prejudice.

With Vic, Sulik, and Cassidy by his side, Morgan charms, fights, and occasionally fucks his way through various problems the wasteland throws at him. As he navigates the looming occupation of the Enclave and the aggressive expansionism of the NCR, he becomes increasingly worried that Arroyo will inevitably fall to one of the two empires. Disillusioned by the lack of thriving agrarian communities he encounters on his travels, Morgan begins to believe that the long-term survival of Arroyo is a pipe dream and accepts that New Arroyo will bear little resemblance to the quaint village of his youth.

Following the defeat of the Enclave, Modoc is the only place that still feels a bit like home. Morgan leaves his tribe behind and takes up work as a farmer, where he lives out the rest of his days watching the flag of the NCR creep slowly across the western seaboard.

#yes morgan is doc savage. there is a startling lack of midcentury art that shows a clear image of a man #i wanted to play a girl as usual but i found out there's a LOT of rapey stuff in this game if you play with a female pc so. nevermind <3 #fallout ocs

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 1 year ago

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The Shag Harbor UFO

On the night of 4 October 1967, at about 11:20 pm Atlantic Daylight Time, it was reported that something had crashed into the waters of Shag Harbour. At least eleven people saw a low-flying lit object head towards the harbour. Multiple witnesses reported hearing a whistling sound "like a bomb," then a "whoosh," and finally a loud bang. The object was never officially identified, and was therefore referred to as an unidentified flying object (UFO) in Government of Canada documents. The Canadian military became involved in a subsequent rescue/recovery effort. The initial report was made by local resident Laurie Wickens and four of his friends. Driving through Shag Harbour, on Highway 3, they spotted a large object descending into the waters off the harbour. Attaining a better vantage point, Wickens and his friends saw an object floating 250 to 300 m (820 to 980 ft) offshore in the waters of Shag Harbour. Wickens contacted the RCMP detachment in Barrington Passage and reported he had seen a large airplane or small airliner crash into the waters off Shag Harbour. Assuming an aircraft had crashed, within about 15 minutes, two RCMP officers arrived at the scene. Concerned for survivors, the RCMP detachment contacted the Rescue Coordination Centre (RCC) in Halifax to advise them of the situation and ask if any aircraft were missing. Before any attempt at rescue could be made, the flying object, with lights still showing, started to sink and disappeared from view. A rescue mission was quickly assembled. Within half an hour of the crash, local fishing boats went out to the crash site in the waters of the Gulf of Maine off Shag Harbour to look for survivors. No survivors, bodies or debris were taken, either by the fishermen or by a Canadian Coast Guard search and rescue cutter, which arrived about an hour later from nearby Clark's Harbour. By the next morning, RCC Halifax had determined that no aircraft were missing. While still tasked with the search, the captain of the Canadian Coast Guard cutter received a radio message from RCC Halifax that all commercial, private and military aircraft were accounted for along the eastern seaboard, in both Atlantic provinces and New England. The same morning, RCC Halifax also sent a priority telex to the "Air Desk" at air force headquarters in Ottawa, which handled all civilian and military UFO sightings, informing them of the crash and that all conventional explanations such as aircraft, flares, etc. had been dismissed. Therefore, this was labelled a "UFO Report." The head of the Air Desk then sent another priority telex to the navy headquarters concerning the "UFO Report" and recommended an underwater search be mounted. The navy, in turn, sent another priority telex tasking Fleet Diving Unit Atlantic with carrying out the search. Two days after the incident had been observed, a detachment of navy divers from Fleet Diving Unit Atlantic was assembled and for the next three days, they combed the seafloor of the Gulf of Maine off Shag Harbor looking for an object. The final report said no trace of an object was found.

#The Shag Harbor UFO #ufos #aliens #unsolved #unsolved mysteries

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lboogie1906 · 5 months ago

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Evangelist Annie E. Brown (1862 - February 8, 1918) gained fame as a Methodist Episcopal evangelist in the late 1800s and early 1900s, earning a national reputation among Blacks and whites alike with her missionary work. While most of her work was done along the Atlantic seaboard, she traveled as far west as Denver and her ministry gained a great deal of publicity in both white and Black newspapers. She was born and grew up in DC. She was married at the age of 15 to Henry F. Brown, an employee of the federal government. Three of her children survived to adulthood. Two of her sons went into the professions, becoming a doctor.

She conducted revivals in association with local churches. She was especially famous for street preaching and her use of a “Gospel Wagon” to spread her message throughout the country. The wagon seated fifteen people and included an organ, cooking facilities and utensils, and a speaking platform. The wagon prominently displayed religious inscriptions.

Her role as a female preacher was notable given the social role of women in early twentieth-century America. She used these occasions to criticize husbands for their treatment of their wives. She was known for her lecture, “Should Women Preach?” where she incorporated references to scripture and her interpretations of ancient customs.

Her popularity may have been helped by the fact that her message reflected the accommodationism that was preached and popularized by Booker T. Washington. She urged African Americans not to see whites as their enemies. She counseled Black people to de-emphasize politics, saying they had had no place in religion. She stressed the importance of Black people keeping their connection to the South.

She engaged in social reform work, assisting other African American women in establishing the Light House Rescue Mission for troubled young women in New York City. She founded and launched a similar enterprise in Florida.

Three sons survived her. Her granddaughter, Anne Brown, became a famous Juilliard-trained opera singer who collaborated with George Gershwin and was the first woman to perform as Bess in Porgy and Bess. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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theburgessobserver · 1 year ago

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Burgess Observer(Aka Frosts town newspaper)FINAL ISSUE!

News!

MAIN HEADLINE:

Hathway wins election by a landslide!

Yes,it's true he won the Presidential elections by a landslide because a landslide blocked his opponents road out of his house and caused him to miss most of the last campaigns which were decisive as he had a lead.But without appearing to address several key states he had a decisive defeat and lost by a mere 0,1 percent of voters!Hathway is a relatively unknown candidate and was at a disadvantage to win,then again he was not known for anything bad either….

Pages 1-6

Local News!

GIANT MIRACLE!

Last night somebody(or somebodies)built an intricate 18 foot snowman of Paul Bunyan.As part of the Burgess snowman competition it won first place by a landslide!But no one has come forth as to who have built it,whoever did it must have done quite some work on this Ice giant as it is very detailed and looks life-like and is well…gigantic with the ice being practically melded together as if by magic.Whoever you are we all would like to thank you(and your team)for this not only is it the biggest snowman made in the county,but it also caused a rapid increase in tourist and sight-seekers visiting.

Pages 7-8

Other headlines

Meteor Mystery

Last night Mt.Palomar picked up an asteroid the size of a small town it was heading towards the western seaboard,Scientist reported i could destroy a large part of the western seaboard and while the ICMs were being ready to knock it off course(or destroy it if neccesary)it dispersed under unknown conditions seemingly by itself and NASA is completely puzzled,to add to it somehow it wasn't seen until it was very close to Earth,and it being unknown why it wasnt picked up until then. According to experts its calculated impact point was Arcadia Oaks Ca.

Pages 9-11

Rescue,Repair and Renovate

After years of neglect ,thanks to a public fund and renewed interest the Local Drive-in theater called Forbidden Theater:The Terror from beyond fear!Is reopening,after being built in the late 40s and thriving for a long time till lower attendance due to the opening of the town cinema,it made a comeback thanks to support and new interest for movie nights in the cold night and fresh air and many daters chosing to go there.They always say theres a nice chill there at night…after some unexplained mysterious occurrences in and around town in recent years the sci-fi,mystery,monster movie craze came back with it.

Pages 12-15

Interview with Professor Bomba

He is a scientist and artist from Danbury, Connecticut he has done quite extensive research on forests and has come up through his years of research of a theory of little people living in the forest.

Alleged Dragon sightings in Canada near Kullersen Fissures-Theories and Explantions

The pride of the W.S.P. Fireball XL5 returns to Space City base in South Pacific after interplanetary exploration mission

Genetically engineered tomato with chemically altered ranch salad dressing experiment damadges 6 city blocks!

And more!

Eyes on the sky!

Weather:Fairly frosty with a chance of snow.

Today the Forbinned Theater presents:

-The BLOB

-Forbidened Planet

-Earth vs the flying saucers

-Destination:MOON!

-Mothra vs Goodzilla

Well this is it!

MARCH 27TH!!!ALERT!!!THE GUARDIANS COME TOGETHER TO FIGHT THERE BIGGEST THREAT!!!(MORE DANGEROUS AND POWERFULL THAN PITCH!!!!)

AND THEY WONT BE ALONE!!!!

ON MARCH 27TH!!!

This is the last thing i will publish till the story arc with a prologue on 26th and the story starting on 27th this will be an event you wont want to miss with several ties to the past.(And lets be real he would win any snowman competition by a long-shot!)

It seems as though Jack will be off the naughty list for that.

And I see he likes to watch movies and have some fun while watching them.(And if it werent for him it might not even have been reopened)

Always helping his town directly or indirectly.

Who built the Giant Statue?The same who did the snowflake Formation(Wrong answears only please.)

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rotm-channel · 1 year ago

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Burgess Observer Issue 5

News!

MAIN HEADLINE:

Hathway wins election by a landslide!

Pages 1-6

Local News!

GIANT MIRACLE!

Pages 7-8

Other headlines

Meteor Mystery

Pages 9-11

Rescue,Repair and Renovate

Pages 12-15

Interview with Professor Bomba

He is a scientist and artist from Danbury, Connecticut he has done quite extensive research on forests and has come up through his years of research of a theory of little people living in the forest.

Alleged Dragon sightings in Canada near Kullersen Fissures-Theories and Explantions

The pride of the W.S.P. Fireball XL5 returns to Space City base in South Pacific after interplanetary exploration mission

Genetically engineered tomato with chemically altered ranch salad dressing experiment damadges 6 city blocks!

And more!

Eyes on the sky!

Weather:Fairly frosty with a chance of snow.

Today the Forbinned Theater presents:

-The BLOB

-Forbidened Planet

-Earth vs the flying saucers

-Destination:MOON!

-Mothra vs Goodzilla

Well this is it!

MARCH 27TH!!!ALERT!!!THE GUARDIANS COME TOGETHER TO FIGHT THERE BIGGEST THREAT!!!(MORE DANGEROUS AND POWERFULL THAN PITCH!!!!)

AND THEY WONT BE ALONE!!!!

ON MARCH 27TH!!!

It seems as though Jack will be off the naughty list for that.

And I see he likes to watch movies and have some fun while watching them.(And if it werent for him it might not even have been reopened)

Always helping his town directly or indirectly.

Who built the Giant Statue?The same who did the snowflake Formation(Wrong answears only please.)

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jubilees231 · 2 years ago

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Giving Back.

As part of our mission to give back to the community I pledged to end world poverty by 2456, even if I'm not alive I'm sure someone will achieve it! As part of my mission to create job growth, and therefore pull millions out of poverty, I have invested in creating a new financial district in south Taipei, Taiwan! If China decides to invade, a domino effect of explosives shall be triggered on the Western coast of Taiwan, creating tsunamis that will engulf the entire Chinese seaboard. But that is in the future. I have attached a picture of the construction of the new Taipei stock exchange!

#anyways.#positivity!#jobs #loadsofjobs #getAfuckingJob

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10bmnews · 2 months ago

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SpaceX Falcon 9 launch guide: When and where to watch the May 6 Starlink mission from Cape Canaveral |

On the evening of Tuesday, May 6, 2025, a brilliant nighttime spectacle is set to unfold in the skies above Florida’s Space Coast. SpaceX is preparing to launch a Falcon 9 rocket carrying a fresh batch of Starlink satellites, offering residents and space enthusiasts along Florida’s eastern seaboard a chance to witness the illuminated trail of the rocket slicing through the night sky. With the…

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dvrkbloomwrites · 3 months ago

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All You Do is Tell Me Lies (I Can’t Really Be Surprised Anymore)

Author: Vesper Lucien

Chapter 1: All You Do is Tell Me Lies

BREAKING NEWS

— This just in, a string of poisonings in Manhattan have been officially categorized as murders by the FBI, Darcy?

— That’s right, Jimmy. According to the Special Agent in Charge, Isobel Castille, these murders originated in Brooklyn before crossing over into Manhattan and even the Bronx. Now that these egregious acts against U.S. citizens has breached state lines, the FBI have officially taken the case.

— These are poisonings, Darcy. Care to tell us a little more?

— This poison is dangerous. This news broadcast will serve as an official announcement, with permission from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, that any contact with this substance is fatal at its most potent. Experts say that there are traces of hyoscyamine, which is in the same family as nightshade, in this toxin. Even supervised use of this drug can lead to addiction. Continued exposure or a lethal amount of this poison as a whole, is deadly.

— The FBI have also made it a point not to share the identities of the victims to the public.

— That’s correct, Jimmy. Which means we all must be vigilant. If you have careers in chemical plants, medical centers or any other facility that knowledge of the proper protocol to handling hazardous substances is necessary, share what you know with your families and friends until the CDC puts out their own Public Safety Announcement. The health officers will have everything explicitly explained for our knowledge and safety moving forward.

— I believe that’s all we have for breaking news today, Darcy. Let’s turn it over to Dr. Jane Foster and guest astrophysicist, Erik Selvig, for the Weather Report. There’s been some interesting reports of sink holes appearing in New Jersey that they have to share with us that could effect the rest of the Eastern Seaboard. Especially with figures like Captain Rogers, the Hulk, and Thor coming out of the woodwork ten years ago. Jane?

Bucky blinks blearily at the television. He left it on accidentally when he drifted off the sleep a few hours ago. The mention of the CDC, murder, and poison go in one ear and out the other, he’s so tired. He had a hard day with his therapist earlier and he’s still reeling from some revelations that came up in discussion with Dr. Raynor. He fumbles around in the sheets for the remote, letting a triumphant grin momentarily sneak its way across his features. With a click off the button on the top right corner of the remote, he shuts the television completely off and turns over in the bed. Usually he can’t stand sleeping in silence, hence why he always leaves some type of appliance on. This time, though, he’s positively wiped out. He’ll deal with the news and the rest of the world when he’s ready to be part of it.

The odor of sweat and too many warring perfumes compels Bucky to open one of the windows in the dance studio. It’s an odd place for a small dojo, but he makes it work. The girls always come ready to learn and with a willingness to hone in their skills. He delights in being an instructor. Getting to train the widows before they go out in the wild world gave him a sense of peace, that maybe he was making up for not being able to go out there himself. His last mission as a member of an elite task force left him with more than just the scars on his left arm. There were too many surgeries on his rotator cuff than he cares to think about, he ended up having the scarring covered with tattoos. Black and red roses adorn his shoulder and sprawl across the left side of his chest. It was too bad that he couldn’t get the same treatment for his arm. Ink doesn’t penetrate titanium like it does flesh. He’s no artist himself but maybe he could get it painted one day. Just as he finally gets the window open, footsteps on the linoleum catch his attention.

“You know, some girls get their right split first.” Bucky turns at the sound of the head widow’s voice. “Others get their left first.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as the widow lets herself drop into a Chinese split.

“Then there are the superior girls who get their middle first,” she challenges Bucky with a mischievous glint in her green eyes. “Which one are you?”

He waits a beat before rolling his eyes and sweeping his left leg out, gracefully descending until he hits the floor. He sits comfortably, his legs forming a perfect 180 degree angle. The widow smirks at him and he smirks right back as they both lean over to rest on their elbows.

“I guess we can both be superior,” she sighs before perking up. “Wow, we haven’t talked like this in years.”

“High school cheer was a very long time ago, Nat.” He chuckles, while settling in, it feels good to stretch like this. “So, what do you want?”

“I can’t visit one of my oldest friends?” She asks, fluttering her lashes.

“Oh now I know you want something.”

“Alright, alright, you got me.” She blows air between them, making her lips flap comically. “The industry is being threatened, the top executives want to see the party responsible ruined.”

“Okay… I’ll bite. What do you want?” He queries.

“How would you feel about being one of my girls for the night?”

Bucky barks out a startled laugh. “Is this because I’m—

“No,” she cuts him off. “But that will only help you if you choose to accept.”

“Be a black widow for a night, huh.” Bucky narrows his eyes and wiggles his metal fingers at her. “What about the arm? Pretty sure it would be off putting for the client.”

“I wouldn’t worry too hard about that.”

That gets his attention, his curiosity piques.“Who’s the target?”

“The CFO of Stark Industries.”

“Steve Rogers?!” His eyes grow big, his voices rises in pitch and incredulity. “You mean the same Steve Rogers that fought in World War Two, crashed a plane into the Atlantic, got defrosted ten years ago, helped defeat the aliens right outside when they came pouring outta that asshole in the sky, and then decided to set the shield aside and break into tech with Tony Stark of all fuckin’ people??”

“Mhmm,” she hums in agreement. “Rumor has it he’s the Black Widow Killer, which is bad for business. You know how we operate, Bucky, the industry doesn’t play when it comes to its escort agencies.”

“I know, I know, but the jokes just write themselves these days. Black Widow Killer? Seriously?” Bucky lets out another laugh then, louder this time. “You really think a national icon is a serial killer?”

“Stranger things have happened as you just mentioned. I didn’t believe it either until I sent one of mine to service him,” she deadpans. “Weeks later, she was dead, poisoned. Just like all the other escorts from competing agencies that service Stark Industries.”

He takes a deep breath. “What makes you think it’s Rogers?”

“Call it female intuition.”

He rolls his eyes again at her antics.

“My contact at the FBI told me they found carpet fibers on all the bodies that NYPD couldn’t trace.”

“The FBI?” He questions. “Well, now I’m really intrigued. Who’s your source?”

“Bucky, you know secrets are expensive. You don’t have the capital to buy them off me.”

He rolls his eyes, a rueful chuckle slipping from his lips. “Whatever, back to the case then. Now that the FBI is involved, what can you tell me?”

“The case went to them after Valentina, since she doesn’t live here in New York. She was one of my Jersey girls, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Bucky rubs his hand over his chin in contemplation. “She was the best in Atlantic City let Yelena tell it. Was Rogers even in Jersey for the timeline to make some semblance of sense?”

“Well, the FBI were able to connect the carpet fibers to SI and Stark Tower is the only place to source very specific rugs and other upholstery,” she says. “However, it’s the poison that connects Valentina to the other girls in this case.”

“But was Rogers in Jersey at point of contact?”

“Well, no, but—

“Then how do you know it’s him?” He asks.

“Look, each escort that serviced him specifically are the ones that died. My contact confirmed it.”

“Okay okay, so not just female intuition,” Bucky chuckles drily, the joke falling flat between them with the subject matter hitting them both. “You know, I think I might remember something about this on the news, but they didn’t mention the Black Widow Killer as a name.”

“This is why I need you to go instead of the other girls,” she poses, not really paying attention to what he just said. “You’ll catch him off guard enough to maybe shake some things loose.”

“Alright, alright, fine, I’ll do it.” He pushes back to sit up right in his Chinese split. “But I deserve a raise after this.”

“You come back in 100% health, you absolutely will.”

“And if it’s not Rogers?” Bucky asks.

“Then you get your first client.” Her grin turns downright lecherous then. “And laid very well might I add. The stories Valentina told me about him before she passed… if they’re true, you’ll have an amazing time.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Nat?” He asks, suddenly worried. “I mean, when I got captured… what if… never mind.”

“No, what is it?”

What begins to feel like the sensation of small pebbles filling his stomach, gives him pause, makes him hesitate for a moment. “Nothing really, just— just a weird feeling. Haven’t been on a mission since— since the accident.” He rubs his neck, a self-deprecating chuckle slipping from this lips.

“If you really aren’t feeling up to it—

“No, I can do it.” He says, cutting Natasha off. “I won’t let Val’s death, or the others, be in vain.”

Bucky bounces his legs before drawing them in front of him to shake out the split. All the while, he still can’t help but wonder if he’s making the right choice. That mission going wrong changed quite a bit about him. He went in as the Winter Soldier, a feared assassin, with the Black Widow, Falcon, and Hawkeye at his six. They were more of a family than a team, really. Still, he came out of that incident with more than he bargained for. What’s more, he knows exactly what this new mission will entail. He’ll have to entertain the whims of a man who he had been crushing on ever since his first U.S. History class in high school. He’ll have to spread his legs. Before the accident, he would have been excited, he knew his way around the block. He would have no problem rocking the good captain’s world, he would have turned that man every which way but loose. The captain would have been eating out the palm of his hand with just the use of his talented mouth. Now though, his confidence is somewhat shaken. How is he supposed to manage this when the impossible had been made possible with illegal experimentation and all manner of body altering substances. How is he supposed to seduce a man in order to persuade him into spilling his deepest secrets when he’s been practically made virginal again. Perhaps his faux innocence will be a turn on, working to his advantage. He’s the goddamn Winter Soldier, he can handle this.

“Hey, why don’t we go get some lunch. We can try that shawarma spot Clint won't shut up about.” Natasha suggests, causing him to look her way. She’s graceful in the way she rises from the linoleum. “You’re lookin’ a little worse for wear. Did you even eat breakfast before coming in today, Yasha?”

At the mention of a meal, Bucky’s stomach makes its own desires known grumbling like it had never seen food before.

“Yeah, that sounds great actually.” He grabs his water bottle and his bag. “I did eat before I left but lately, I’ve been having to add snacks in between lunch and dinner. Keeping up with therapy stresses me out though, so food is my go to.”

He’s busy closing up the studio room where his little dojo is located while Nat waits for him, he misses the pensive glaze that mars her features for but a moment.

Bucky fidgets in the sleek, black, town car as he rides in the backseat. He can see wisps of blond, spiked ends peaking out from under the driver’s hat through the half risen partition. The evening sun highlights the driver’s hair through the tinted window he has cracked to allow the fresh air to cool his heated skin. By all accounts, he should be cold with the outfit Nat through at him after their lunch date. Under a black trench coat, he’s wearing a tight, white, blouse with a red necktie. The short, navy skirt that barely covers his ass, only just hides the lacy panties that are doing their level best to ride up into some uncomfortable areas. He has zero clue how women do this. Maybe he just isn’t wearing a pair that would work for his figure. The thought makes his cheeks heat up even more. Desperate for anything else to think about, he watches the scenery that passes him by.

The lights on Park Avenue illuminate the block, almost as if it’s somehow in tune with Bucky’s own body. It’s like he’s been set to vibrate with a remote he has no control of. The anticipation is making his blood bubble just beneath the surface of his flesh. Unconsciously, he’s excited to meet Steve Rogers. Who wouldn’t be? In any other situation, he would be pulling out all the stops… but he has a job to do, so the pressure is on. He’s doing his best to let that faux innocence sink in, to settle in his bones. He’s got to ramp it up, let that persona become a significant part of himself as smooth jazz plays lowly in the town car.

The vehicle descends into an underground parking structure. Bucky takes a deep breath to settle himself. When the car comes to a full stop, the driver comes around to open his door.

“Here, take this.”

“A lollipop,” Bucky scoffs, taking the sucker and reading the label. Black Cherry Lemonade. “Really, Clint?”

“I heard he likes the flavor,” Clint says with a shrug. “Good luck, man.”

Shaking his head, Bucky takes the candy and tears the wrapper. He sticks it in his mouth and strides toward the door where a no-nonsense woman with a high, strawberry blonde, ponytail is waiting for him. His white thigh high socks gleam in the fluorescent lights at the door, popping against his ruby red keds. He looks like a naughty little school girl with his own brunet tresses twisted into a fishtail and he knows it, the sucker is the literal cherry on top. It tastes good too. Swirling it around with his tongue, he savors the flavor.

“Welcome Winter, right this way,” the woman says. Her smile is warm if a little exasperated, as if she’s more than used to the antics of the executives working in the tower. She walks with him as they travel down a long, dimly lit hallway. The solid gold panelling on the elevator reeks of luxury. “Would you like me to take your coat?”

He pauses for a beat but ultimately decides the charade should begin as soon as possible. “Yes, thank you…”

“You can call me Pepper.” She smiles while accepting his coat. “You’ll take this elevator down to sub level three and use the door at the end of the hall, office ten.”

With a graceful flourish, she tosses the trench coat over her shoulder before taking out a black card with an interesting symbol emblazoned on it from her pant suit pocket. It appears to be two, gold-tinted, snakes chasing each other into a never ending infinity sign, while devouring each other’s tails. An intriguing portrayal of ouroboros. A chill washes over his skin then, he’s almost positive that he has seen that symbol before. He can’t place where though, so he shakes the notion off and the warmth returns to his flesh. He watches as Pepper uses the card to call the elevator and hears the air releasing as the doors slide open.

“Mr. Rogers will see you now.”

Bucky tries not to let the shiver show but it is difficult. Anticipation and dread war for control in his belly, his skin doesn’t know whether it wants to be hot or cold. He steps in to the elevator and folds his hands in front of him. He lifts a hand to wave to Pepper as the doors close, but a hint of orange in her eyes catches him off guard. Her irises seem to glow. He looks up to see the lights inside the elevator are a muted orange. He shakes his head with a rueful chuckle and presses the button labeled S3.

As the elevator makes its descent, he can’t help but feel slightly unsettled. He’s not cold per se, but his blood isn’t exactly brimming with anticipation anymore, making his skin feel somewhat clammy. He studies his reflection in the almost transparent gold of the metal transporting him down and into the sub levels of Stark Tower. His figure is shapely, his curves enhanced by the feminine way in which he’s dressed. The white blouse hugging his broad chest is a long sleeve, it hides his metal arm to an extent. His prosthetic hand gleams in the dim, orangey, light. He fiddles with the ruby, red, tie before smoothing the white shirt into his navy blue skirt. The whole get up isn’t lost on him. Red, white, and blue? He just about rolls his eyes, sending a mental bitch slap to Natasha. What is she playing at anyway? And the sucker? He sighs, taking it out of his mouth. A little bit of saliva coats his lips. He watches himself lick them. Alright maybe he can see why Natasha asked him to do this mission. The whole aesthetic is working for him. Maybe he really can have a bit of fun with this. A low ding rings out in the space before the elevator comes to a smooth halt. He pops the lollipop back between his lips and steps out into the hallway.

The corridor isn’t very long, Bucky takes about ten steps and he’s standing right in front of the office’s onyx door with the number 10 staining it in muted gold. He knocks once, twice, three times, before he hears a deep voice, raspy from disuse speak.

“Enter.”

Enter? Who the hell does this man think he is? Bucky opens the door and crosses the threshold into the office. The inside of the room is bathed in shades of red with silver and black accents, the linoleum shines in the artificial lights. There are floor to ceiling glass windows that display the horizon as it bleeds the colors of the heavens with the setting sun across the large window panes. It must be something Stark invented, it’s a nice touch.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Bucky’s head snaps up at the sound of that voice.

Steve Rogers, former Captain America, and current CFO of Stark Industries cuts an intimidating figure from behind his large, Oakwood, desk. The top three buttons on the starched, white, shirt he wears are open, exposing a hairy chest. Bucky’s mouth is suddenly dry regardless of the sucker dangling between his lips. He finds himself licking them, he’s parched, like he hasn’t experienced the sensation of cool water sliding down his throat before. A wetness begins to pool between his thighs, a blush tints his cheeks cherry red. He can see the smirk pulling at Rogers’ full, pink, lips. He curses under his breath at his own reaction, as if he’s succumbing to some love at first sight spell, more like lust at first sight. Bucky scoffs at his own thoughts but he still feels his skin heat at the piercing blue gaze that studies him where he stands. The dark brown beard that covers the bottom half of the captain’s face is peppered with the lightest of blond streaks, it makes him look experienced beyond his physical years. In truth, the man still looks pretty much like he did in the pictures from Bucky’s history books. If not for the very slight appearance of crow’s feet around the eyes, he would have mistaken Steve Rogers for a thirty-year-old man.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He hears it more than sees it when Rogers pushes away from his desk, the sound of wheels rolling across the floor sneak their way into his ears. The man’s tone is light, it rises above those wheels, but there’s something in the pitch of it that makes strings in the back of Bucky’s mind try but fail to connect. He strides over until he’s standing in between Rogers’ open legs. A single pat to those massive thighs by Rogers’ own meat paw of a right hand is all the permission he needs to plant himself onto that sturdy lap.

“You listen well, you’re gonna be so good for me. I can tell,” Rogers whispers in his ears as if he’s telling Bucky a secret. He feels it when those hands rub up and down his sides. The heat of his blush intensifies when the former captain kisses his cheek. His thoughts whirl within him, crowing in delight, when he doesn’t immediately turn into a puddle at the man’s feet. Rogers’ voice is of the stuff that turns his dreams into wet ones. If he’s not careful, he will get off right in this man’s lap. But something tells him that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. “You’re a pretty one, wanna tell me your name?”

“Winter.”

Chapter 2: Coming Soon...

#all you do is tell me lies #i can't really be surprised anymore

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confessions-of-a-syrian-starseed · 9 months ago

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My premise:

There is a galactic problem:

The planet earth is, and has been, a “bad actor” within its own galaxy.

How? It has been disturbing its own galaxy by exploding nuclear bombs. Those explosions disturb the natural, electro-magnetic status-quo, locally (on a galactic level) and possibly farther into the universe.

Solution?

*Ask for volunteers from peaceful planets to create a covert peace keeping force who will continually instill peaceful intentions into that society until Earths desire to create chaos is permanently gone.

Desired Outcome:

Restoration of a peaceful and harmonious coexistence for all of earth’s galactic neighbors

*https://peacekeeping.un.org/en/deploying-peacekeepers

Who volunteered?

1. *Earthly assholes are always assigned to us, and right away.

2. The same insane jerks that are in control of the nuclear power, are all controlled by the Shaytan (devil) and his minion.

3. All Syrian Star seeds, volunteered to come down here to try to calm this f****** place down. I was one of them.

4. Why? Because, it was, and is, a troublemaking planet. It thinks nothing of creating EMPs (through the detonation of nuclear bombs) and disturbing the rest of the galaxy. * So some of us volunteered to come down here to calm it down.

5. Most of us regretted our decisions to do so, but went on with our mission just the same. (Kind of like soldiers who volunteer to be airborne soldiers, but regretted it the minute they weredropped into a hot landing zone. After they landed, They found bullets whizzing by their heads. They witnessed their fellow soldiers falling wounded and dying all around them.)

6. *Most earthlings do not understand that all things in the universe (including galaxies) are similar to solenoids, and that the stability and balance of the entire universe is dependent on those solenoid like things holding their exact places and emitting their exact frequency and electro-magnetic pull. (The secular religion of science has named that phenomenon: “the strong and the weak force”).

*Here are some examples of "Earthly assholes attacks and moves against me:

The Remedy

It was the winter of 1966. We were heading north. Traveling up the eastern seaboard of America; following the same route and at the same speed as one of those yearly, August hurricanes that blow in from the warm equatorial Atlantic Ocean. The eye of this storm contained four siblings. Two in the middle, one in the back and one in the front. We all knew our places in the light blue 1962 Mercury Comet station wagon. My 17 year old brother was “riding shotgun” in the front seat, next to my father. One sister was in the back seat, next to me. The other occupied the flat space behind that.

Swoosh ... swoosh … swoosh. The sound of passing cars on a wet road seemed endless. We would drive all the way to New Jersey from North Carolina on this road trip. As a military family, we were accustomed to road trips. California to South Carolina, South Carolina to New Jersey, Texas to North Carolina. Always in a car. (Except for the plane trip to and from Hawaii when my father was stationed at Kailua Peninsula and I was only five years old. )

Somewhere around the sound of an eighth can of beer being forcefully punctured by a well-used can opener, I heard my father tell my brother the news. (It has since been my observation that during a crisis, people tend to clear the air about hidden things.)

"Dane," my father said after reaching back to close the ice chest behind the passenger's seat. "You know ... you're not my real son ... **You have a different father than me."

That revelation rocked me as much as it did my brother.

As I look back at that revelation, I can say that it took quite a while for the idea to fully sink in, as I wasn't yet mature in my understanding of the sordid world around me, even though the previous 15 years of my life had been imbued with an underlying parental tension. That tension ( I now know) had been the creation of a father and his real son, vs. an obliged mother and her bastard son. The situation ( that I had been trapped into ) hadn't yet generated its full socio-psychological havoc upon me, but even so, I was already “damaged goods.”

** Although no one in the family had actually admitted it, it was inferred that my mother had been impregnated by the priest at the confessional.

#star seed

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