#Device ID Targeting

[skymattix]

Accurate marketing with device ID targeting

Harness the power of device ID targeting to refine your marketing tactics. Reach your target audience directly through their devices. Maximize your campaigns' impact with unusual precision in ad delivery and engagement.

[wanderlettesz]

The Price of Loving - Epilogue

yandere cheater x reader

An unexpected presence brings a proposal that could change everything. The past remains, but the future is shaped by the choices that lie ahead.

Authors's note: I don’t think there are any triggers or warnings needed here. I decided to leave this epilogue as a separate chapter so that those who prefer darker endings can stop at the main story, and those who want a different conclusion can keep reading. This was the first story I ever truly wrote, so if you made it this far, thank you very much for reading.

The Price of Loving Word Count: 1506 Art credits: mkr_aknk714 on Twitter

Quick steps cut through the forest just after the helicopter drop, the steady rain muffling some of the sound. A muffled shot hits the first target, who falls unconscious, and the run continues. With each encounter, more shots are fired with precision, and the guards keep falling, one after another, with no time to react.

In a brief pause behind a tree, the figure surveys the surroundings before moving on. Another shot rings out, and another body drops. Along the way, valuable items like electronic devices, keys, and IDs are picked up and stuffed into pockets already soaked by rain.

Soon after, the sound of heavy bodies hitting the ground interrupts the rhythm of the footsteps. Looking around, several guards lie scattered with fatal neck wounds, some hadn’t even been hit before. The pace becomes more cautious, eyes following the trail left behind as the path continues.

A sea of blood covers the ground where most bodies lie. The steps advance carefully, avoiding stepping in the blood to keep expensive shoes clean. At the altar, flowers are taken from a bouquet and examined, stained by the dark liquid. The gaze soon shifts to something more striking.

Ahead, a couple moves in a rhythm that seems intimate, almost like a silent performance, standing out in the desolate scene. The figure sits at the edge of the altar, watching.

When the dance ends, what once seemed interesting has become tedious. The gun is raised, aimed at the man, and a precise shot brings him down.

The true target sighs in surprise and falls, unprepared to hold the man they were dancing with.

“James...?” you murmur, confused, noticing a tranquilizer dart lodged in his back.

“Boring, boring!” a hooded figure appears, tossing the gun up and catching it again. “Were you even trying? The whole performance was completely deplorable! Oh, how dreadful…!” The voice adopts a dramatic, exaggerated tone.

When you try to stand, the figure quickens the pace, holsters the tranquilizer gun, and draws another weapon.

Now, it’s a real gun.

“My target shouldn’t move. Come on, back where you were, come on, come on!” the figure insists, pushing the gun to your forehead and forcing you down.

You obey and return to your previous position, then bow your head. Silence dominates for a moment until broken by an annoyed huff.

“You’re not going to say anything? Seriously?”

“What should I say? You’re here to kill us, right?”

“Not him.” They spins the pistol’s cylinder. “Only you.”

Your eyes widen. You raise your head slightly, trying to see the face hidden by the hood. Only you?

“I... I get it...” The surprise fades quickly, and your head lowers again. “You must be someone I wronged in the past, then.”

“So how do you plan to make up for that?”

“...You’re not here to...”

“You think your death is enough?”           You stare at the figure again, now with irritation. “Stop playing games with me.” Gradually, your mind starts clearing.

For some reason, you sense your words make the figure smile. “A punishment isn’t really a punishment if you’re okay with it.”

“I disagree. It’s still a punishment if the one receiving it isn’t okay with it, even if they accept it.” your patience is running thin. “Who are you?”

“Heh.” The figure slowly pulls back the hood. “Miss me?” She tosses her hair back and rests one hand on her hip.

Sasha?!

“You!” Your tone is heavy with accusation. “What are you doing here?!”

“Forgot you had a gun pointed at your head?” Sasha lightly presses the pistol’s tip against your forehead, a teasing gesture. “Well, I don't like to let my targets die without knowing anything."

With the other hand, she pulls something from her pocket and hands it to you. A badge.

Looking at it, the symbol is unmistakable. So this was what she’d been trying to hide.

“Contract killer... So that’s your job? Killing for dirty money?” You throw the badge away with disdain. When you look back, the smile has vanished from her face, now serious.

“...You hate injustice, don’t you?”

You hesitate for a moment before answering. Your voice softens, matching her tone. “...Yeah, that’s why I want to join the police, to prevent as much as I can.”

“Tell me” she lowers the gun from your face “Do you really think you can be a police officer?”

Those words... are almost identical to what James said to you so long ago.

“You murdered someone just a few months ago… Do you really think you’re going to become a police officer after that? Do you think anyone’s going to forgive you?"

But unlike him, she seems more... genuine, sad even.

“I know I can’t...” your voice comes out in a whisper, your eyes fixed on no particular point. You want to deny the truth, but after so long, all that’s left is acceptance.

Suddenly, Sasha raises the gun. You instinctively close your eyes. But the shot doesn’t come at you, she fires beside your body and drops the gun from her hands.

“Then join me.”

Her words catch your attention. She crouches in front of you, resting her arms on her thighs and locking eyes with you.

“You agree the police don’t bring real justice, right? That woman you killed... Justice says she didn’t deserve that, but what about you?”

Even trying to avoid it, you can’t help but think she deserved it…

Sasha watches your expression closely, then reaches out and gently strokes your head. “Yeah, I agree.” She smiles with a tender air. “Traitors deserve to die. You’re just like me.”

You frown and pull your head away from her hand. That makes her laugh, and she stands, stepping back.

“So, what do you think?” She extends her hand toward you. “You’re more useful alive than dead.”

At that moment, flashes of memory rush through your mind. The first time she did this... a long time ago.

“But... how am I supposed to make up for what I did?”

“It’s simple. You can’t. You can’t run from your past, and that’s why I’m here.” This shouldn’t be a surprise to you. Deep down, you always knew someone you hurt back in school would come after you.

You just didn’t expect it to be like this. Whoever it was, they must still be too pathetic to have the courage to try killing you with their own hands. You take her hand. “Alright, I accept. Let’s bring justice with our own hands, Sasha.” She pulls you up, her smile widening and eyes sparkling with excitement. “An excellent choice, I must say! So, shall we?”

“Just a moment.” You pick up the gun you had taken from the ground and aim it at James. When you pull the trigger, all you hear is a click. “What? You only had one bullet left?”

When you look back, you see Sasha picking up the badge you had thrown earlier. “Duh, of course! I only had one target, one bullet was enough.” She winks at you, and you roll your eyes. “How arrogant. And how are you so sure that one bullet would be enough?” You hand the gun back to her.

“I have my own principles.” She tucks the gun into her waistband. “I can't kill anyone other than my target. One target, one bullet.”

You sigh, and she grabs your wrist, pulling you away from James’ body. “Oh, come on! I need someone to take the blame for what I did too.”

“I guess...” you walk beside Sasha in silence for a moment, the only sound being the rain and her cheerful humming.

“You told me I was like you...” you wait for her to look at you, but her gaze stays fixed ahead. “But I don’t hurt or kill innocent people. Well, not anymore, at least...”

“I never said my targets were good people. I make sure they truly deserve to die... just like you.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye, her tone clearly playful. “But I know that for you, dying might even be a favorable fate.” “Even after accepting your proposal, I don’t know if it’ll be easy to forget what I’ve done in the past.” You both approach her helicopter. “I’ll make sure you forget.” She opens the door and you step inside. “We’ll make so many good memories together you won’t even have time to think about it.”

Her words bring a smile to your face, even if you hate to admit it. Sasha climbs into the pilot’s seat and turns to you.

“You look tired. You can sleep while I fly.”

“I don't know if I trust you piloting anything. It doesn't suit you at all.”

She sticks out her tongue at you and turns back to the front. You stifle a laugh and look away, gazing out the window. Your eyes drift toward where James’s body should be. It’s finally over, but...

You have a feeling this won’t be the last time you see him.

[sergeant-cody]

SAS base, TF 141.

You are the new supply NCO and the boys have to go to you for new equipment (after they break something in the field)

Soap: You know about his loud presence before he even opens the door. He waltzes in with barely restrained energy and you wonder if he will be able to maintain the conversation without climbing the walls.

"Hey, how are you? Alex, was it?" He almost yells excitedly.

"Not even close." You raise your eyebrow at him, challenging.

"Well, you have a lunch break? I'd love to get to know you and your name." He tries with a charming smile.

"My name is on the uniform." You say flatly.

His eyes flicker to the nametag and you can see his expression waver for a moment. Before he tries to save the situation, you just ask.

"What do you need?"

"Oh, I kinda broke something."

"Shocking." You comment. You have a feeling you will soon get to know this guy very well.

He puts his helmet on the table and you inspect it. The plastic adjustable pads on the inside are broken.

"What did that helmet do to you?" You ask. If one broke, sure. Two, maybe. But all but one?

He immediately dives into a crazy story which he animates with wild gestures and Scottish expressions that have you nodding absentmindedly.

"You'll need a request form. Then I'll get you a new one." You interrupt him.

"Could you do that without the form?" He asks nicely and you almost say yes because you know whatever he will write there will be very wrong anyway. But you need to hold your ground and hope they'll learn. You push the paper in front of him.

He doesn't leave. He asks for a pen and then reads the form out loud, glancing at you every time he needs you to dictate the answer.

Ghost: He is silent, but you knew he came in thanks to a squeak that the door makes. He walks to your table with a steady gaze, locked in on his target. He puts a broken comm on the table. "I need a new one."

You look at the mess and then fold your arms. He doesn't move, reminds you of an angel from Doctor Who. You blink and you're dead. So you don't. You look up and try to match his death glare.

"Do you have a request form filled?"

His eyes narrow a little and then you see him sizing you up and down. "Where is sergeant Williams?" He asks and continues staring into your soul. You've been here for barely a day and you're not even sure you still have one.

"Retired." Williams and his lax approach to equipment distribution is exactly what got you here in the first place. You slightly lean to the left while carefully maintaining the eye contact. Then you slowly reach to the first drawer and pull out a paper. You put it on the table next to the little broken device.

After few seconds he looks down trying to burn the paper with his stare. It doesn't work so he picks it up and leaves.

Five minutes later he is back and his hands are empty. He walks to the table and stares at you for a moment, then huffs in annoyance. You wait. He wants something, he can ask.

"What is the ID number?" His voice is more silent than you expected.

You nod at him with a poker face, pretending it's a good question and not something he should've known for years as a lieutenant, and you explain.

Gaz: Walks in with polite, almost shy smile. He walks up to you with confident posture and you are almost ready for your customer service voice to deny whatever he will ask for.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but my gas mask cracked, I'm going to need a new one."

You resist the sigh and an eye roll. "How did you manage that?"

He puts it on the table and you inspect it. One eye socket is cracked but otherwise it seems okay.

"Could you fix that for me, please?" He asks oh so nicely.

"You know what, sure. But next time you'll need a request form." You say and put the mask away. His politeness made you feel like next time he will need something, his form will be filled correctly on your table before he will even tell you what's wrong.

Price: He sends Gaz with the request form filled.

[nonspeakingkiku]

AAC device in the wild! Inspired by others on here doing this. (multiple are restaurants because we go to them a lot (compared to other kinds of places) some of these pics are old.

A mexican restaurant

ID: An ipad in a pink and purple case and an accent 1000 with a red frame and LAMP VI on the screen sitting on a wooden table. End ID

Another mexican restaurant

ID: the ipad from the previous picture wih a hot pink fox beanie baby laying on it wit speak for yourself open on it. End ID

A christmas party

ID: the ipad from the previous picture on a green table cloth covered table with two fox beanie babies, a purple stencil letterboard, a paper santa hat decoration, and an empty ornament. End ID

Another restaurant Yah moo - a burger place

ID: a purple stencil letterboard with a brown fox beanie baby on it, sitting ona wooden table. End ID

Aldi

ID: the ipad in the pink and purple case on Kiku's lap. Kiku is sitting in a wheelchair with an attached basket. End ID

At a park!

ID: Same ipad from the last picture sitting on a cocomelon pattern blanket, open to the home screen. End ID

Another restaurant (think steak and shake?)

ID: the ipad from previous pictures sitting on a white table with a purple stencil letterboard End ID

Yet another restaurant 😂 (don't know what this one was. Possibly a sushi place)

ID: an ipad in a purple waterproof case attatched to a chest harness and propped up on the edge of a dark wooden table in front of the ipad is laminated letterboard. End ID

In a car

ID: the ipad from the last picture propped up on Kiku's knee, with a laminate letterboard on the other knee, and a communication card and speaker worn on a lanyard. End ID

Target

ID: Kiku sitting in a carolines cart holding faer ipad, communication board, and cane in his lap, and wearing faer phone on a lanyard. End ID

[aro-culture-is]

Aro culture is, when forced to buy a Google phone cuz that's all you can afford, trying your damnest to use the invasive advert tracking to your advantage.

i.e. periodically typing in "I'm aromantic" to the chrome search bar & loudly saying it into the phone speaker in the hopes you'll stop getting jump-scared by an influx of dating app ads when forced to watch them in mobile games

,,, please. i beg of you. do not. for one, google doesn't recognize that as a metric, at best it places you into a queer category and targets you with ads that are promoted to queer people. They do not bother with granularity, because the advertisers are who are paying for categories or lack thereof. they also probably categorize you as single when you do that stuff, which again, defeats your goal. if you want to tell advertisers to get out here's actually a pretty simple thing to look for:

from there, consider:

install the firefox app (free), and use the uBlock Origin extension (best adblocker, free... and still works on youtube and twitch if you use the firefox app to load them)

i also recommend the breezewiki extension (free), because fandom wiki sucks on an ethics level, and this directs you to an identical, but ad-less page so they don't get money from you.

anyways my solution is stop seeing ads lol

related: install bitwarden as a password manager. it's free, well-established and credible, and you can use it on both android apps and firefox (as an extension) (also on any device in general). you only ever have to remember one password, preferably new, ever again. it's got the rest for you, stupidly well encrypted, and you can store data like security question answers, secure notes, and more!)

[awkward-walking-potato]

hey hi hello id like to ask if you do male reader or gn reader...;;,,,, specifically for your writing about kurt,, i am so whipped for him but also very much a guy and would make a request if you do male reader (if not ill ask elsewhere so dont worry if not x)

Saved by Nightcrawler

The mission had gone sideways faster than anyone could have predicted. What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance in a remote facility turned into a full-blown fight for survival. The enemies—mutant-hunting sentinels—had arrived out of nowhere, their red eyes glowing with malicious intent as they targeted the team.

The squad was outnumbered, scattered across the facility. Amid the chaos, [Y/N] found himself cornered, an enormous sentinel bearing down on him. The machine’s arm raised, a deadly energy beam charging up in its palm. Time seemed to slow as he braced himself for the worst.

But just as the beam fired, there was a sharp BAMF and a puff of smoke. In the blink of an eye, [Y/N] was snatched from the sentinel's path, reappearing a few feet away with a distinct sulfuric scent lingering in the air.

"Kurt!" [Y/N] gasped, heart pounding in his chest as he realized who had saved him. Nightcrawler stood beside him, his hand still gripping [Y/N]’s arm, his golden eyes fierce with determination.

"You alright?" Kurt asked quickly, his voice edged with concern.

"Yeah, thanks to you," [Y/N] breathed, still shaken but relieved. Before he could say more, Kurt teleported again, taking them to the relative safety of a nearby corridor.

"Stay here," Kurt ordered, his voice firm but gentle. "I’ll be back."

[Y/N] nodded, though every instinct in his body screamed at him to follow. But he knew better—Kurt was fast, agile, and could get in and out of tight situations better than anyone else. If anyone could handle this, it was him.

Still, the minutes that followed were excruciating. The distant sounds of battle—explosions, metal clashing against metal, and the unmistakable BAMF of Kurt teleporting—echoed through the facility. [Y/N]’s mind raced with a mix of fear and concern, hoping Kurt was okay.

And then, suddenly, the noises stopped.

Unable to stay put any longer, [Y/N] bolted from his hiding spot, running through the corridors, his heart hammering in his chest as he called out for Kurt.

When he found him, his breath caught in his throat. Kurt was on the ground, a deep gash across his side where the sentinel’s beam had clipped him. He was breathing, but barely, his usual vibrant energy dimmed as he struggled to stay conscious.

“Kurt!” [Y/N] cried, dropping to his knees beside him. Kurt’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, his golden gaze unfocused and pained.

“Sorry,” Kurt rasped, his voice weak. “Didn’t… didn’t get out in time.”

“Don’t talk,” [Y/N] said quickly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He pressed his hands to Kurt’s wound, trying to staunch the bleeding, but it was bad. They had to get out of there—now.

[Y/N] fumbled for the comm device on his belt, calling for an emergency extraction. But he knew it would take time, and time wasn’t something Kurt had a lot of right now. Desperation gripped him as he realized there was only one thing he could do.

“Kurt, I’m going to get you out of here,” [Y/N] said, his voice trembling slightly. “Just hang on.”

Kurt’s eyes met his, and he managed a faint smile. “Don’t worry… I trust you.”

Kurt’s words gave [Y/N] the strength he needed. He hoisted Kurt up, supporting him with one arm while keeping pressure on the wound with the other. With every step, he could feel Kurt slipping further away, his breathing growing more labored. But [Y/N] refused to let him go—not after Kurt had saved his life.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the extraction point. The jet was already there, and [Y/N] quickly got Kurt inside, shouting for the medical team. He didn’t let go until they pulled Kurt from his arms, rushing him to the medbay. Even then, his hand lingered on Kurt’s for just a moment longer.

Hours later, [Y/N] paced outside the medbay at the mansion, his thoughts a chaotic mix of fear and worry. The mission was long over, but the image of Kurt lying there, bleeding, refused to leave his mind.

Finally, the door opened, and the medbay doctor stepped out. “He’s stable,” she said, and [Y/N] felt the tension drain from his body. “He’ll need rest, but he’ll be okay.”

“Can I see him?” [Y/N] asked, his voice raw with emotion.

She nodded, and [Y/N] quickly slipped into the room. Kurt lay on the bed, his blue skin standing out against the white sheets. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady but shallow. [Y/N] walked over, pulling up a chair beside him, and sat down.

As if sensing his presence, Kurt’s eyes slowly opened. When he saw [Y/N], he smiled—a tired but genuine expression that made [Y/N]’s heart ache with relief.

“Hey,” Kurt whispered, his voice still weak.

“Hey,” [Y/N] replied, his voice thick with emotion. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”

“Sorry,” Kurt said, though the playful glint in his eyes told [Y/N] he wasn’t too sorry. “Guess we’re even now, huh?”

[Y/N] chuckled softly, though tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

There was a long pause as they just looked at each other, the weight of everything that had happened hanging in the air. [Y/N] wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke.

“Kurt, I…” He hesitated, the words still feeling too big, too important. But he pushed on, knowing he had to say it. “I was so scared I was going to lose you today. I didn’t realize… just how much you mean to me.”

Kurt’s eyes softened, his expression tender as he reached out to take [Y/N]’s hand in his. “You mean a lot to me too,” he said quietly. “More than I can put into words.”

[Y/N] squeezed Kurt’s hand, his heart pounding as he leaned in closer. “I don’t want to keep pretending,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. “I care about you, Kurt. A lot.”

Kurt’s breath hitched, and for a moment, [Y/N] thought he might say something, but then Kurt simply closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against [Y/N]’s in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle, almost shy, but it carried all the emotions they had both been holding back.

[Y/N] kissed him back, pouring all his feelings into that one, tender moment. When they finally pulled away, Kurt’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and [Y/N] knew his own eyes were just as bright.

“Can I kiss you again?” Kurt asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

[Y/N] smiled, leaning in to capture Kurt’s lips once more, this time with more confidence, more certainty. The kiss deepened, [Y/N]’s hands gently cupping Kurt’s face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. Kurt kissed back with the same intensity, his tail wrapping around [Y/N]’s waist, pulling him closer.

When they finally parted, [Y/N] rested his forehead against Kurt’s, both of them breathing heavily, their hearts racing in unison.

“I love you,” [Y/N] whispered, the words coming out easily now, as though they had been waiting to be spoken.

Kurt’s smile was radiant, his eyes filled with love and affection. “Ich liebe dich,” he whispered back, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. “I’ve wanted to say that for so long.”

[Y/N] pressed a gentle kiss to Kurt’s forehead, his heart overflowing with emotion. “You saved my life today,” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing Kurt’s cheek. “But more than that… you’ve saved me in so many other ways.”

“And you saved mine,” Kurt replied, his hand still holding [Y/N]’s tightly. “In more ways than I can count.”

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, savoring the warmth and comfort of being together. The fear and uncertainty of the day melted away, replaced by the steady, reassuring beat of Kurt’s heart beneath [Y/N]’s hand.

As the night settled over the mansion, [Y/N] knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of something beautiful, something they had both been waiting for. And as he held Kurt close, feeling his breath against his skin, [Y/N] couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

[sleepberries]

For your spideyhood fics, if it interestes you any, I'd like to request some instances where Jason kills people/targets. See him enforce his rules and get his hands bloodied. I miss it. he is passionate about his goals and id really like to see him stick to his principles despite what everyone Wants him to do. If not killing then AT LEAST heavily torturing his target? maybe peter seeing him in his element and getting a reality check of what it means to really be dating the full, unfiltered jason todd? make it known he IS dating a very meticulous killer. OH or, have peter comparing jason to wade in how they execute their plans/targets? idk i just really miss jason getting things done His way, no compromising on his part. free him of these no kill rule and rubber bullet shackles ! unmuzzle my baby girl !!

okay this was actually great timing because a few days ago i finished the first draft of one of the prequels that is opening the discussion of just that !! it's important to note that while it hasn't really need shown yet, jason absolutely still is using lethal force. it's what he does!! and peter and him are absolutely butting heads over it. now, this ficlet doesn't have a name yet and i don't really have plans to post it for a while, but here you go !!

If there was one thing Peter Parker knew for absolute certain, it was that nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday.

Mondays were expected tragedies. Wednesdays marked the halfway point. Thursdays held promise. Fridays brought relief. But Tuesdays? Tuesdays were chaos incarnate—like the universe took all its leftover bad ideas and dumped them right in the middle of an otherwise perfectly fine week.

Case in point: the Red Hood was back in his city.

Peter spotted him immediately, a red-helmeted shadow skulking along a warehouse rooftop in the industrial district. It had been three weeks since their first encounter—since the mysterious vigilante had hauled that flickering wizard guy back to wherever murdery vigilantes took their prisoners. Peter had assumed that was the end of their brief, bizarre interaction.

Yet here he was again, lurking around Peter's turf like he owned the place.

"Well, well, well," Peter called out, landing with practiced grace on the edge of the roof. "If it isn't Gotham's favorite trigger-happy tourist."

Red Hood didn't startle. He merely turned his head, the expressionless helmet gleaming dully in the moonlight. "Spider-Man. Just the pest I was hoping to avoid."

"Aw, you remembered me!" Peter pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm touched. Really."

"Touch this," Hood growled, flipping him off before returning to what appeared to be surveillance of the warehouse across the street.

Peter rolled his eyes beneath his mask and approached, crouching down beside the leather-jacketed vigilante. "So what brings you back to the Big Apple? Miss my charming personality? The authentic pizza? Or did you just get lost on your way to Jersey's finest trash heap again?"

Red Hood remained focused on the warehouse. "I'm working."

"Ooh, cryptic. Love that for you." Peter leaned over, trying to see what had captured the other vigilante's attention so completely. "What kind of 'work' are we talking about? Because if it involves making people dead, I'm gonna have to firmly vote no on that."

Hood exhaled slowly, the sound distorted through his helmet. "How are you still alive when you're this annoying?"

"Superior reflexes, amazing good looks, and sheer force of will," Peter replied without missing a beat. "Now seriously, what's going on?"

For a moment, Peter thought Hood might actually shoot him just to shut him up. Instead, the vigilante reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device, projecting a holographic display of shipping manifestos.

"Someone's moving Scarecrow toxin through your city," he said finally. "Thought you might want to know before half of Manhattan starts hallucinating their worst fears."

Peter's humor evaporated instantly. "Scarecrow? As in the Gotham nutjob who makes people see nightmare fuel?"

"The same."

"How much toxin are we talking?"

"Enough to cover a ten-block radius," Hood replied, flicking through the manifesto. "They're moving it tonight. Splitting the shipment into three parts. This—" he gestured to the warehouse they were watching, "—is where they're dividing it up."

Peter studied the warehouse with newfound intensity. "Why would anyone bring that stuff here?"

"Money," Hood said simply. "Some rich asshole thinks it'll make a great party drug—the ultimate 'bad trip' for trust fund kids with too much cash and too little sense."

"That's..." Peter struggled to find words. "That's monumentally stupid."

"Welcome to humanity."

Peter's spider-sense buzzed faintly at the base of his skull—not immediate danger, but a warning of trouble ahead. He narrowed his eyes at Hood. "How do you know all this?"

The helmeted vigilante's posture shifted slightly. "I have my sources."

"Uh-huh. And you just happened to be passing through New York again?"

"Look, Spandex," Hood snapped, turning to face him fully. "I tracked these bastards from Gotham. They killed three people getting this stuff out. I don't give a rat's ass if you believe me or not, but that warehouse is about to receive enough fear toxin to turn this neighborhood into a horror show."

Peter held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I believe you."

Hood stared at him for a beat longer before returning to his surveillance. Peter watched him, mind racing. If what Hood was saying was true—and his spider-sense suggested it was—they had a serious problem on their hands.

"What's the plan?" Peter asked finally.

Hood glanced at him. "We?"

"Uh, yeah, we," Peter gestured between them. "This is my city, remember? I'm not letting you run around shooting people, no matter how bad they are."

The vigilante made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Cute. You think you can stop me."

"I know I can," Peter said, his voice dropping its usual playfulness. "The question is whether we work together efficiently or waste time fighting each other while dangerous chemicals get distributed through my city."

Red Hood went silent, considering. Finally, he put away the holographic device. "Fine. Here's how this goes. We wait until the shipment arrives. They'll bring it in, split it three ways. Once we confirm the toxin is there, we move in, neutralize the threat, and secure the shipment."

"When you say 'neutralize the threat'..." Peter began.

"I mean take down the criminals," Hood cut him off. "Christ, you think I'm going to execute people in front of you?"

"I genuinely have no idea what you're willing to do," Peter replied honestly. "That's kind of the issue here."

Hood tilted his helmet in what Peter imagined was an eye roll. "Just follow my lead and try not to get in my way."

"Counterproposal," Peter said brightly. "We follow my lead, since this is my city, and nobody dies. Crazy concept, I know."

"Here's a crazy concept for you—"

Hood's retort was cut short as a convoy of three unmarked vans pulled up to the warehouse. Men in dark clothing began unloading large metal crates.

"That's our cue," Hood muttered, reaching for his guns.

Peter quickly shot a web, stopping Hood's hand. "Whoa, hold up. We need a proper plan."

Hood yanked his hand free. "The plan is stop the bad guys, secure the toxin."

"Yeah, but like, with more steps and fewer bullets," Peter insisted. "These aren't just regular crooks—they're handling Scarecrow toxin. One broken container and everyone nearby is having the worst trip of their lives, us included."

Hood paused, then gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"I'll take high ground, web up the exits to prevent escape. You cover the main floor but—" Peter fixed him with what he hoped was a stern look despite his mask, "—non-lethal takedowns only. Deal?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment. "If this goes sideways because I couldn't use necessary force, it's on you."

"I can live with that. Can't say the same for your potential victims."

Without waiting for a response, Peter shot a web and swung toward the warehouse, positioning himself above a skylight. From here, he could see men opening the crates, revealing smaller metal containers inside. One of the men lifted a vial of sickly yellow liquid, examining it before carefully placing it in a specialized transport case.

Peter's earpiece crackled as Hood's voice came through. "I count twelve hostiles. Three armed with automatic weapons, the rest have handguns."

"When did you—" Peter touched his ear in surprise.

"Slipped a comm link onto your suit while you were busy being righteous," Hood replied. "You're welcome."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Twelve guys with guns handling extremely dangerous chemicals. What could possibly go wrong?"

"On my mark," Hood said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Three... two... one..."

Peter crashed through the skylight, glass shattering around him as he descended. In the same moment, Hood burst through a side door, guns drawn but—true to their agreement—firing what appeared to be rubber bullets.

"It's Spider-Man!" someone shouted.

"And the Red Hood!" another yelled, panic evident in his voice.

"Package deal, fellas!" Peter quipped, webbing two gunmen to the wall before they could aim. "Buy one vigilante, get another free!"

Hood moved with brutal efficiency, putting a bullet through the head of the first gunman who raised his weapon. The man crumpled instantly, dead before he hit the floor. Two more criminals charged him, and Hood dispatched them with methodical precision—one shot to the chest, another to the throat. Blood splattered across the concrete as they fell.

"What the hell?!" Peter shouted, momentarily frozen in horror.

"Holy shit, stop!" Peter called out, webbing frantically to incapacitate the remaining gunmen before Hood could execute them too. "The toxin containers!"

He swung low, kicking the legs out from under a bulky man raising his weapon toward Hood's back. The vigilante nodded in acknowledgment before drawing a knife and slashing it across the fallen attacker's throat in one fluid motion. Blood pooled beneath the dying man as Hood moved on without hesitation.

"Behind you!" Hood barked suddenly.

Peter's spider-sense flared as he twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding a knife that would have slashed across his ribs. He webbed the attacker's face, blinding him, then connected with a solid punch that sent the man sprawling.

The fight was chaotic but controlled. Peter had to admit—grudgingly—that Hood knew what he was doing. His movements were precise, economical, lacking the flashy acrobatics Peter favored but no less effective.

Six men were down. Then eight. Then ten.

Just as victory seemed certain, one of the remaining gunmen made a desperate play. He grabbed a vial of toxin from an open case.

"Stay back!" he shouted, holding the vial threateningly. "One more step and I break this! We'll all get a lungful!"

Peter froze. Hood stopped advancing.

"Smart choice," the man sneered, backing toward an exit. His partner used the distraction to edge toward another door.

"Buddy, I don't think you understand what you're holding," Peter said carefully. "That's not just some drug. That's military-grade nightmare juice."

"Shut up!" the man shouted, his hand trembling dangerously around the vial.

Peter saw Hood's posture shift subtly, his hand inching toward a different pouch on his belt.

"Let me handle this," Peter said quickly, both to Hood and the gunman. "Nobody else needs to get hurt."

The man laughed, high and panicky. "You think I'm stupid? The second I put this down, I'm done for!"

"True," Hood said suddenly, his electronically distorted voice eerily calm. "You're done either way."

Before Peter could react, Hood had drawn and fired in one fluid motion. The bullet pierced the man's shoulder, causing him to stumble backward in pain. As he fell, Hood fired again, this time straight through his heart. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his hand releasing the vial as he collapsed.

"No!" Peter shouted, lunging forward.

The vial slipped from his fingers.

Time seemed to slow as Peter lunged forward, shooting a web to catch the falling container. His webbing wrapped around it just inches from the floor, suspending it in a cocoon of synthetic silk.

"Jesus Christ," Peter breathed, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Problem solved," Hood said, stalking over to kick away the fallen gunman's weapon before the man could recover.

Peter carefully retrieved the webbed vial, securing it back in its container. "You call that solved? You nearly caused exactly what we were trying to prevent!"

"I had it under control," Hood replied dismissively.

"Like hell you did!" Peter snapped. "Another inch and we'd all be tripping balls right now!"

Hood turned to the last remaining criminal, who had frozen in place during the commotion. The man immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot! Please!"

Hood advanced slowly. "Where were you taking the shipments?"

"I—I don't know the final destinations," the man stammered. "We were just paid to split it up and hand it off!"

"Not good enough," Hood growled. Without hesitation, he shot the man in the knee. The criminal screamed, collapsing to the ground.

Hood knelt beside him, pressing the hot barrel of his gun against the man's temple. "Let's try again. Where were the shipments going?"

"Jesus, stop!" the man sobbed. "There's a club in Manhattan! Blue Velvet! The owner's the distributor!"

Hood nodded, then pressed the gun harder. "Who's your supplier? Who got it out of Gotham?"

"Penguin's crew! It was Penguin's crew! Please!"

Hood considered this information, then stood up. Before Peter could react, he fired a single shot through the man's head.

"STOP!" Peter yelled, webbing Hood's arm and yanking it violently. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Hood whirled on him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping you from crossing a line," Peter said firmly. "We got what we came for. The toxin is secure, the bad guys are down. It's over."

"It's not over until I get answers!" Hood snarled, wiping blood from his leather jacket. "You think this is the only shipment? You think these are the only guys involved? Wake up, Spider-Man!"

"You just executed them all in cold blood!" Peter's voice shook with rage and disbelief. "You didn't even hesitate!"

"That's how this works," Hood said coldly. "They knew what they signed up for. Trafficking fear toxin means they were ready to torture thousands of innocent people for profit."

"That doesn't give you the right to be judge, jury, and executioner!" Peter shouted. "We have a justice system for a reason!"

"A system that fails every single day," Hood countered, his voice dripping with contempt. "While you web them up and the cops process them, lawyers get them out, judges let them walk, and they're back on the street doing the same shit before the blood dries. I stop the cycle permanently."

Peter stared at the carnage around them—seven bodies, blood pooling on concrete. "This isn't justice. It's slaughter."

"It's necessary," Hood replied without remorse. "Get out of my way. I need to hit that club before they realize something's wrong here."

"No."

The tension between them stretched taut, a rubber band about to snap. Peter's spider-sense hummed steadily, warning him of the impending confrontation.

Hood moved first, feinting left before driving a right hook toward Peter's jaw. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Peter barely avoided the blow—Hood was fast, far faster than he had any right to be.

Peter flipped backward, creating distance. "You really want to do this now?"

"You started it," Hood replied, closing the gap with a flurry of strikes that Peter blocked or dodged.

Peter recognized military training in Hood's movements—disciplined, precise, unlike the brawlers he usually dealt with. He returned the assault with his own style—agile, unpredictable, enhanced by his spider-sense and superhuman strength.

They were evenly matched in ways that surprised Peter. For every blow Hood landed, Peter connected with one of his own. For every trick Peter employed, Hood had a counter.

"You're—pretty good—for a walking traffic light," Peter grunted, narrowly avoiding a kick aimed at his midsection.

"And you're—not completely useless—for a circus reject," Hood returned, ducking under Peter's roundhouse.

They clashed again, Hood's armored forearm meeting Peter's web-reinforced block with a solid thunk. They broke apart, circling each other warily.

Around them, webbed and injured criminals watched in confusion as their captors battled each other.

"This is stupid," Peter said finally, breathing hard. "We're on the same side."

"Are we?" Hood challenged. "Because from where I'm standing, you're protecting criminals."

"I'm preventing murder," Peter corrected. "There's a difference."

Hood gestured sharply at the containers of toxin. "You know what that stuff does? It doesn't just scare people. It breaks them. Pushes their brains past what they can handle. People claw their own eyes out. Jump from buildings. Kill their loved ones because they see monsters instead of family."

His voice had taken on a raw quality that penetrated even the electronic distortion of his helmet. "I've seen it firsthand. These bastards were willing to spread that for profit. They don't deserve your protection."

Peter lowered his guard slightly. "It's not about what they deserve. It's about who we are. What we stand for."

"Save the sermon," Hood snapped, but some of the fight had gone out of him. "Some problems can't be solved by webbing them to a lamp post and calling the cops."

"Maybe not," Peter admitted. "But if we start playing judge, jury, and executioner, how are we any different from the bad guys?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment, then holstered his gun with a muttered curse. "You're exhausting, you know that?"

Peter grinned beneath his mask. "It's part of my charm."

Before Hood could respond, the sound of sirens pierced the night air. Someone had called the police—probably a neighbor alarmed by the gunfire.

Hood tensed. "That's my cue to leave."

"Wait," Peter said quickly. "The toxin—we need to contain it properly."

Hood considered this, then nodded. "I've got specialized containment units in my bike. Can neutralize the compound if anything leaks."

"Great. I'll round up our new friends here while you get the gear." Peter gestured to the criminals, some moaning in pain, others silently watching their exchange. "Try not to shoot anyone on the way, okay?"

"No promises," Hood muttered, but there was less hostility in his tone now.

As Hood headed for the exit, Peter called after him: "Hey, Red!"

The vigilante paused, glancing back.

"Thanks. For the heads-up about the toxin. You didn't have to come all this way."

Hood seemed to consider his words carefully before responding. "Next time, I'll send a postcard."

Peter laughed. "Next time, maybe just call ahead. I know a great pizza place."

"I'll pass."

"Your loss," Peter shrugged. "Best slice in New York."

Hood hesitated at the door, then said, "Jersey pizza is better," before disappearing into the night.

Peter stared after him, then shook his head with a grin. "Delusional and murdery. What a combination."

After their fight ended in a stalemate, Hood had disappeared into the night with his intel on the club. Peter had spent the next hour securing the toxin in the specialized containment units Hood had left behind. He webbed up the two surviving criminals—the only ones he'd managed to protect from Hood's lethal efficiency.

When the police arrived, Peter was gone too, leaving only a note explaining about the Scarecrow toxin and the connection to Blue Velvet club. He deliberately omitted mentioning the Red Hood. The officers would find enough carnage without his explanation.

As Peter swung home later that night, his mind replayed the violence he'd witnessed. The Red Hood wasn't just dangerous or unpredictable—he was a killer, methodical and unrepentant. The vigilante executed his targets with a calculated precision that reminded Peter uncomfortably of stories he'd heard about the Punisher.

But unlike Deadpool's chaotic, almost playful approach to violence or Punisher's grim, militaristic execution, Hood killed with a cold efficiency that spoke of training and conviction. He didn't seem to enjoy the killing—he simply deemed it necessary.

And that, somehow, disturbed Peter even more.

"He really believes he's doing the right thing," Peter muttered, landing on a rooftop to catch his breath. The weight of that realization settled heavily on his shoulders.

Though Peter had tried to stop him, Hood had walked away with information about the club. Which meant more people would likely die tonight. Peter couldn't shake the blood from his conscience, even if he hadn't pulled the trigger himself.

His phone buzzed in his hidden pocket—probably Aunt May wondering why he wasn't home yet. As he reached for it, Peter noticed something stuck to his suit: a small tracking device, no bigger than a button.

He plucked it off, examining it with a mixture of distaste and reluctant fascination.

"Really, Hood?" he muttered.

Next to the tracker was a folded note, tucked securely into his suit. Peter opened it cautiously.

In sharp, angular handwriting: "Blue Velvet taken care of. Owner won't distribute toxin or anything else again. Six more dead, all guilty. Don't interfere next time. Thanks for the save with the vial. — RH"

Peter crushed the tracker between his fingers, letting the pieces scatter in the wind. Then he shot a web and continued on his way home, making a mental note to scan his suit more thoroughly next time.

Because there would definitely be a next time. He was sure of it.

Tuesday strikes again.

[teecupangel]

Just had an idea that developed XD: How OP could we make Desmond without giving him godlike powers thanks to the Grand Temple device?

My suggestion? Give him Spidermans powers. Climbing walls, spider sense, super senses, healing factor etc. You could also add stuff that Spiderman wouldn't use, due to his "No killing" rule, like powerful venom and fangs and those arm pincers that Spiderman apperantly had in the comics for a while.

He would be the perfect Assassin. XD

We could also easily set it up too. Maybe Hydra or Oscorp are looking to make a super soldier/recreate Spiderman and this random man shows up without any ID? Perfect test subject! It would also be hard to escape as they would account for super powers with the security, so Desmond ends up rescued by the Avengers+Spiderman.

Just an idea i had and i'm curious to how you would make him OP. ^^

So I’ve been reading a lot of manwha for years now and it definitely shaped my answer to how we can make Desmond OP.

Information.

Whether this means what Desmond would know about what’s going to happen because this is a time travel/regression/transmigration setup or if this is a case of the Apple giving him the information he needs, Desmond could use that information to his advantage, both to amass large amount of money or to do what he wants to do.

If we combine my idea of an OP power and your idea of giving him OP Spiderman power, the next step is obvious.

Desmond is a comic book nerd who got isekai (or transmigrated) into a Spiderman world.

The problem is… which Spiderman world is this???

Should he be looking for Peter Parker?

How was he so sure that this world’s Spiderman is Peter Parker?

Oh god, what if it’s those Spiderman movies instead???

Should he look for anyone that looks like Tobey Macguire?

Hell, it could have been the new one with Andrew Garfield.

There was too many of them to count!

And it is during his ‘hunt’ for Spiderman (because at the very least, he believes Spiderman might listen to him) that he gets abducted by Hydra/Oscorp/whichever evil corporation you wanna use.

His blood was meant to be used to test for variations of the super soldier serum but Desmond isn’t a damsel in distress and he tries to escape.

During the escape, he gets into an accident (whether he gets bit by one of the plot spiders or maybe he’s nicked somewhere and the Spiderman serum prototype gets into an open wound) during his escape and starts to exhibit the same powers of Spiderman.

And that is the least of his worries because he is an Assassin through and through so he did what any Assassin would do when they’re abducted by an obviously evil corporation.

Kill everyone in the facility while finding out names of other targets to take them out in the future.

And…

Well…

Massacring an entire facility isn’t really a good resume for the superheroes in this world.

.

Desmond thinks the new Spiderman movie is Amazing Spiderman starring Andrew Garfield because that would be the latest Spiderman he’d watch (2012)

Up to you which Superman/Marvel story he did end up with. It might be fun to keep it vague, keep Desmond guessing lollol.

[estera-shirin]

Some tips on how to survive a fascist state

From your auntie who has been around this block before.

This was made for people living in the US, but most of this is generally useful.

Assess your level of risk. For example, if you are not a citizen, going to a protest is much higher risk than it is for a citizen. But also recognize that the landscape of who is and is not being targeted is rapidly changing, so keep that in mind.

Get an updated passport. Make this a priority. If you live in a state where they have them, also get an Enhanced ID (not a Real ID, specifically an Enhanced ID) so you have a second way to cross land or sea borders into Canada and Mexico. That way, if authorities take your passport, you have another way out of the country.

Assume that the law is not there to protect you. Many parts of the law that are meant to protect you no longer apply. It's good to know your rights, but also know that the administration is not going to respect them. Just because you aren't doing anything illegal does not mean they won't come after you.

Move your communications, especially political communications, to encrypted messaging services. Use Signal for texts, ProtonMail for email, and Cryptpad as a word processor.

Get a private web browser. DuckDuckGo is a good option. I've also heard good things about Norton's private browser.

If you post political content on social media, you have two options. Make your account private and spend an evening going through your followers to weed out the ones you don't trust. Or, make it anonymous. But if you are picking the latter, know that it is hard to anonymize an account where you previously shared your identity. It's easier to go private if it's linked to your real life self, including through mutuals.

Turn off face ID on your devices. Police can force you to open them with your biometrics, even without a warrant. Additionally, make sure you have strong passwords (that are different for every account!) and keep track of them using a secure password manager.

If you go to protests or otherwise engage in subversive activity, DO NOT POST ABOUT IT ONLINE. Doing so endangers yourself and potentially others. Especially do not post pictures of protests, even if you've blurred the faces, even if you think you scrubbed the metadata. Even better, don't take photos at protests.

If you're exiting and re-entering the US, get a burner phone. I'm serious. Get an iPhone secondhand if you can afford it, but a flip phone will work if you need it to. Don't assume that just deleting anything sensitive off your device will be enough. You may not find it all, and depending on how thoroughly they search your phone, they may be able to see things that were deleted.

Mask up, especially when you're at a protest. In general, it's a good idea to mask since covid and many other viruses are going around. But masking has the added benefit of reducing the amount of biometric information you are making visible. Additionally, facial recognition software relies heavily on eyebrows, so cover them using a beanie or similar item.

Get involved or strengthen your ties with some kind of community. You are going to need others to lean on, whether that's emotionally or politically, in times like these.

[lisenberry]

Blend In

Suggestive/Explicit Language, Mystery 141 x F!Reader.

MDNI!

1111k words (heavy on the -ish)

For @the-californicationist Nameless Challenge!

Congrats on 500K words, Cali!!

Put your guess in the comments as to who you think it is!

You had no idea why you’d been chosen for this assignment, but you were not going to argue.  Certainly not with him.

Keeping any doubts to yourself, you checked the mirror in the bathroom one last time before exiting into the hotel room you shared with your teammate.  Well, not your teammate yet, but if all went well, your fingers were crossed for a spot on his elite task force. 

“What do you think, sir?”

As a mere corporal, just about everyone had a higher rank than you.  There was the distinguished Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish.  Big (huge) shoes to fill, but you were ready to prove yourself.

“It’ll…do,” he muttered, turning his head quickly towards the surveillance equipment set up on the nearby desk.  “And don’t call me that.  We’re undercover, remember?” 

“Do I get a code name or something?  You all have badass nicknames, and I’m just...the new girl.”  You shrugged your shoulders and tried not to fuss over the plunging depth of your neckline that barely covered your pushed-up boobs, or the uncomfortable way the fabric hugged your hips.

“No, New Girl is the new girl.  You’re—Ah, fuck.  Here we go.  Time to get out there.”  He picked up something on the camera feed of the hotel’s ballroom and pointed to it with his finger.  “Target’s moving.”

“Who picked this dress?  I thought I was supposed to blend in.  It’s obscene for a wedding.”

“Not for an oligarch’s wedding.  Tits up, back straight, and do your job.”  He gave you one last look over, dragging his gaze up to meet yours, finally, before giving you an encouraging nod.

“Aye, aye.  Sir.”  You couldn’t help but add the last with a bold smirk.  Maybe it was the dress, or the mission, or the unexpected glint in his eye, but you had a good feeling about this.

********

You’d been gone for only ten minutes, and he was already doubting every aspect of this assignment.  As the only fluent Russian speaker who didn’t scream special forces in the ranks, you’d been the easy choice.  But you were also soft around the edges, and sweet as hell, with a smile and an inner kindness that would lower anyone’s defenses. 

What the fuck you were doing in the military, or how you’d made it this far, he had yet to figure out.

He’d only agreed to this at all because the stakes were low, as was the risk of danger.  All you needed was a cigarette butt or a discarded champagne glass.   A piece of cutlery left behind on a tray.  Even just a partial fingerprint would be enough for Laswell to make a positive ID.

He was not prepared for you to strike up a conversation with the third most lethal psychopath on the watch list, or let him put his hand on your ass and squeeze you close to his hips as he whispered suggestively in your ear. 

“Careful, sweetling,” your commanding officer gritted low into his radio.  The comms device in your ear was undetectable, but he didn’t want to startle you or alert the target that you were in contact with someone.

It could also pick up your conversation, not that he understood any of what you were saying.   It seemed to be mostly flirty banter and coy laughter.  The man was obviously trying to get in you back to his room.

He didn’t know much Russian, but he knew enough about men’s appetites to get the idea.  He’d had his own thoughts, just the good sense not to say them out loud.

And he could not believe what he was seeing on the camera.  A sudden, sinking flood of anxiety made him jump in his chair and clench his fists at the stress.  You were going with the man, following him as he escorted you out somewhere beyond the surveillance feed.

“Do not leave that ballroom.  I can’t track you out there.  Get back.  Abort!”

He knew you could hear him, but you weren’t following orders.  Being ignored was most certainly the root of his blinding rage, not his concern for your safety.  Or the hungry way the bastard had looked at you in the dress he’d handpicked himself for the way the color made your skin practically glow. 

The cut and size may have been a miscalculation, he admitted to himself, as he checked the clip in his handgun and hurried toward the door.   

“Fucking hell.  You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you don’t, then I’ll do it myself.  When I get my bloody hands on you, Cupcake, I swear—”

“Cupcake?  That’s the best you can do?”  You stood on the other side of the door, with your hands on your hips as he pulled it open, with a fierceness you’d only heard about from other recruits.

Suddenly directed at you, it was worse than you’d imagined.  He looked ready for war as his words caught in his throat. 

“There you are.  You’re alright?”

“I got his prints on my purse, his DNA on my tits, and a retina scan on my phone.  And his phone, for shits and giggles.”  You quickly held up your loot for his inspection, before he could catch his breath long enough to lecture you on your recklessness.

He swiped a big hand along his mouth for composure, but he still looked like he wanted to kill something.  Mostly you.

“DNA?”  His eyes darkened quickly, somehow even more than before, as he looked from your face to your aforementioned tits.

“Saliva, big guy.  I’m committed, but not that committed.  Calm down.”  But he didn’t of course, because you’d never actually seen him relaxed.  At least not around you. 

You’d heard stories that he was a generally likable bloke once you got to know him.  Earned his trust.  Maybe someday you would get to see that side of him.  From the looks of it, this wasn’t it.

“Your country thanks you for your service.”  He deadpanned, not appreciating your snark.  

“What about you, sir?  Did I make the team?”  You shifted on your heels hopefully, still brimming with energy from knocking out a man twice your size, watching him piss himself, and staging the scene to look like he’d passed out on his own.

“I’ll put in a request to my commanding officer as soon as we get back.” 

“Really?”  You stifled the urge to hug him in your excitement.

“No.  You’re never allowed to leave the base again.”

You weren’t deterred as you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue behind his back.  You’d wear him down.  One way or another.

[girlactionfigure]

🟩 Monday morning - events from Israel  

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( VIDEO - IDF bombing Hezbollah hidden Hezbollah rocket launch sites in south Lebanon villages, this video from Tyre. Note the secondary explosions. )

♦️IDF MESSAGE to South Lebanese: If you are near a building where there are Hezbollah weapons, stay away from the village until further notice.

♦️Intense bombing by the IDF Air Force from the early hours of the morning.  Continued increase of force.  Dozens of villages and towns were attacked from the morning hours in southern Lebanon.  The Lebanese counted over 150+ air force strikes that lasted about an hour and a quarter.

.. Videos from Lebanon show intense explosions and major secondary explosions - meaning rockets hit.

♦️IDF spox: the IDF is now widely attacking Hezbollah terror targets in Lebanon. The targets: Hezbollah launch sites.  We detected Hezbollah's preparations to attack the citizens of the State of Israel and that is why we attacked.  For twenty years Hezbollah distributed weapons in southern Lebanon, placing missiles in peoples homes.

♦️A GENERAL’S ANALYSIS: Brigadier General (resp.) Yossi Kuperverser writes: "The repeated failures of Iran and Hezbollah to obtain revenge by promoting terrorist attacks against senior Israeli officials, may lead them to try to save their damaged honor by extensive military action, which in turn will lead to escalation and justify strong Israeli action."

❗️IDF: Following the IDF Spokesperson's statement, attached is a video that reveals the attempt by Hezbollah terrorists to launch cruise missiles from a house in Lebanon: https://bit.ly/3ZCK3Fp  - these missiles have range over all of Israel and a 300 kg warhead, very destructive.

▪️IRAN AFRAID OF RADIOS.. Reuters report: The Revolutionary Guards have ordered all their men to immediately stop using all electronic radios for fear that they too will be captured by Israel. An extensive operation began to test all devices.

▪️CHINA.. calls on its citizens to leave Israel as soon as possible.  China manages port operations at one of the Haifa ports, and multiple major construction projects in the country including the Tel Aviv light rail.

▪️RELIGIOUS POLITICS.. United Torah Judaism to the Prime Ministers Office: Strongly demand that Netanyahu not fly back to Israel on Shabbat after he flies to the US to speak at the UN.  "If Netanyahu can't fly without staying on Shabbat, let him not fly"

▪️TEACHERS STRIKE DEAL.. Teachers' salaries will increase by NIS 1,200 in relation to the scope of the position.

▪️DEAL NEWS.. The Americans submitted drafts of their new mediation proposal to Hamas - and were refused.

⭕Overnight a large explosion was heard in the city of al-Shadadi, where American forces are located near the Iraq-Syria border.  The US Al Shadadi base was reportedly under rocket attack, alarms sounded at the base.

⭕DRONE BARRAGE from Hezbollah this morning at near-border towns in the near.

🔅 SHARE US WITH A FRIEND! Send the URL below —>

🔅Telegram   - https://t.me/Israel_Realtime_Updates

🔅WhatsApp - https://chat.whatsapp.com/BfOkwWZoUvOEmGZ7Z5sj5C

🔸X (twitter) - https://x.com/IsraelRealtime

🔸Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558471625976

[lonestarflight]

"Space Shuttle Endeavour is towed toward the Mate-Demate Device following landing on runway 15 at KSC's Shuttle Landing Facility at 10:58 a.m. EDT atop a modified Boeing 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft. The cross-country ferry flight became necessary when three days of unfavorable weather conditions at KSC forced Endeavour to land on runway 22 at Dryden Flight Research Center, Edwards Air Force Base, Calif., on June 19 following mission STS-111. Processing of Endeavour will now begin for the launch of mission STS-113 targeted for October 2002."

Date: June 29, 2002

NASA ID: KSC-02PD-1097, KSC-02PD-1098, KSC-02PD-1099

[ztremx]

Police stingray technology, also known as IMSI-catchers or cell site simulators, is a surveillance tool that law enforcement uses to track and gather information from cell phones: 

How it works Stingrays mimic cell phone towers to trick nearby phones into connecting to them instead of the real tower. The device can then intercept and gather data such as call logs, text messages, and the contents of phone calls. 

How it's used

Law enforcement can use stingrays to locate suspects during criminal investigations. They can also be used to cover large areas or gatherings of people, and then zero in on a specific phone. 

Privacy concerns

Stingrays can capture the ID numbers of all nearby phones, not just the target phone. This can raise concerns about the privacy of other cell phone users in the area. 

Transparency

The use of stingrays is often shrouded in secrecy, and the ACLU has uncovered evidence that law enforcement agencies are trying to conceal their use. 

Disruption of emergency services

Stingrays are supposed to allow 911 calls to pass through to a legitimate cell tower, but other emergency calls may not get through. 

[beardedmrbean]

Salt Lake City — Utah on Wednesday became the first state to pass legislation requiring app stores to verify users' ages and get parental consent for minors to download apps to their devices.

The bill headed to the desk of Gov. Spencer Cox has pitted Meta, which operates Facebook and Instagram, against app store giants Apple and Google over who should be responsible for verifying ages. Similar bills have been introduced in at least eight other states in the latest fight over children's online safety. The proposals targeting app stores follow legal fights over laws requiring social media platforms to verify the ages of users.

Meta and other social media companies support putting the onus on app stores to verify ages amid criticism that they don't do enough to make their products safe for children - or verify that no kids under 13 use them.

"Parents want a one-stop shop to verify their child's age and grant permission for them to download apps in a privacy-preserving way. The app store is the best place for it," Meta, X and Snap Inc. said in a joint statement Wednesday. "We applaud Utah for putting parents in charge with its landmark legislation and urge Congress to follow suit."

The app stores say app developers are better equipped to handle age verification and other safety measures. Requiring app stores to confirm ages will make it so all users have to hand over sensitive identifying information, such as a driver's license, passport, credit card or Social Security number, even if they don't want to use an age-restricted app, Apple said.

"Because many kids in the U.S. don't have government-issued IDs, parents in the U.S. will have to provide even more sensitive documentation just to allow their child to access apps meant for children. That's not in the interest of user safety or privacy," the company said in its most recent online safety report.

Apple considers age a matter of privacy and lets users decide whether to disclose it. The company gives parents the option to set age-appropriate parameters for app downloads. The Google Play Store does the same.

Apple and Google are among a litany of tech companies that help support the Chamber of Progress, a tech policy group that lobbied Utah lawmakers to reject the bill. Last year, Apple helped kill a similar bill in Louisiana that would have required app stores to help enforce age restrictions.

Kouri Marshall, a spokesperson for the Chamber of Progress, called the measure "a tremendous encroachment of individual privacy" that he said places a heavy burden on app stores to ensure online safety.

Republican Sen. Todd Weiler, the bill's sponsor, argued it's "a lot easier to target two app stores than it is to target 10,000 (app) developers."

Under the bill, app stores would be required to request age information when someone creates an account. If a minor tries to open one, the bill directs the app store to link it to their parent's account and may request a form of ID to confirm their identity. Weiler said a credit card could be used as an age verification tool in most cases.

If a child tries to download an app that allows in-app purchases or requires them to agree to terms and conditions, the parent will first have to approve.

Melissa McKay, a Utah mother, is among those who pushed for the legislation. She said she started asking questions about device safety after her nephew in 2017 was exposed to "really harmful content on another student's device at school." Inaccurate age ratings on apps and faulty parental controls are "at the root of online harm," McKay said.

The eight other states considering proposals would similarly place responsibility on app stores to verify ages and seek parental permissions. A legislative committee advanced Alabama's bill last week.

Lawsuits have delayed implementation of state laws regulating social media apps and websites. A federal judge in 2024 temporarily blocked Utah's first-in-the-nation law requiring social media companies to check the ages of all users and place restrictions on accounts belonging to minors.

If Cox signs the Utah bill into law, most provisions would take effect May 7. The governor's office didn't respond to emails seeking comment Wednesday. Cox, a Republican, supported the state law currently on hold that requires age verification on social media.

[satoshi-mochida]

The Thing: Remastered physical editions announced for PS5, Switch - Gematsu

Nightdive Studios will release a physical edition of The Thing: Remastered for PlayStation 5 and Switch on June 25, the developer announced. Pre-orders are available now at various retailers, including Atari, Amazon, Best Buy, GameStop, GAME, Target, Walmart, and more.

The standard edition will cost $29.99 / €34.99, while the Deluxe Edition will cost $49.99 / €54.99. The latter includes a copy of the game, special box, SteelBook case, key art poster, Captain Blake’s ID card replica, and a set of sew-on patches.

The Thing: Remastered is available now digitally for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC via Steam and GOG.

Here is an overview of the game, via Nightdive Studios:

About

The Thing: Remastered is a faithful restoration of the cult-classic 2002 third-person survival horror shooter game inspired by Universal Pictures and filmmaker John Carpenter’s genre-defining 1982 film, The Thing. Nightdive Studios has upgraded this horrifying classic for the modern era through its proprietary KEX Engine for play on current-generation gaming devices up to a 4K resolution at 120FPS. Improvements to character models, textures, and animations have been hand-crafted by Nightdive Studios, with the implementation of advanced 3D rendering for updated lighting and atmospheric effects—for a suspenseful and disgustingly detailed remaster that reanimates the thrilling game for modern audiences. In the frozen arctic tundra, a mysterious shape-shifting alien has wiped out the crew of the U.S. Outpost #31 research facility. In The Thing: Remastered, players step into the boots of Captain J.F. Blake, the leader of a United States Army Special Forces rescue team sent to investigate the blood-curdling events that transpired in the original The Thing film. Trapped by the elements and at risk of infection by a horrific entity, Blake must keep his squad together to survive by gaining their trust and ensuring that their fear and paranoia don’t get the best of them… or himself.

Key Features

Return to U.S. Outpost #31 – Continue the story of The Thing and face off against terrifying monsters, from scuttling head-spiders and human-like walkers to gigantic multi-tentacled level bosses.

Who Goes There? – Command a squad of up to four NPCs from Soldier, Medic, and Engineer character classes through the game’s 11 frightening levels.

The Warmest Place to Hide – Someone in your squad may not be who they appear to be. The shape-shifting alien hides inside an imitation, so keep a watchful eye.

Don’t Lose It – Gain the trust of your squad members and minimize their fear levels lest they become defiant or, worse, succumb to paranoia.

Ultimate Alien Terror – Upgraded models, textures, and animations hand-crafted by Nightdive, plus enhanced lighting and atmospheric effects.

Stunning Visuals – Up to 4K 120 frames per second visuals on PC, PlayStation 5, and Xbox Series X|S.

Checkmate – Trophies and Achievements on Windows PC via Steam, PlayStation, and Xbox consoles.

[sentientcitysurvival]

21st Century Protest Structure: Field Coordination Model

Protesting in 2025 requires structure. The State is organized. Protesters must be, too. The following framework is designed to reduce harm, increase adaptability, and document misconduct in real time.

1.) Communication HQ

Central team monitoring police radio (Broadcastify, OpenMHz, analog scanners)

Tracks crowd movement, street closures, staging by police

Sends real-time updates through Signal, Briar, or secure radio systems

Flags signs of kettling or crowd control escalation

Utilize handheld transceivers ("HT")/handheld radios ("Walkie Talkie") or Prepaid cellphones with encrypted messaging apps and encrypted VOIP to communicate with organizing teams in the crowd.

2.) Direction & Movement Teams

Goal: prevent mass arrest via entrapment

On-the-ground teams to scout ahead and identify traps (dead ends, underpasses, bridge bottlenecks)

Quietly redirect crowds as needed; don't give intel/counter-intel a reason to zone in on any particular person or group; be strong but not a target

Teams blend in with the protest but use predefined signals to coordinate

If you have to break (leave and dart away) due to illegal, dangerous, or aggressive trap behavior by authorities, do so in small groups. Assign a scout or decoy to move in a different direction with deliberate speed to create the impression of urgency and redirect pursuit. After separating, attempt to re-establish communication in 15-minute intervals to reduce noise, avoid signal triangulation, and limit detection risk. Use low-visibility methods (predefined encrypted channels, burner devices, short-wave bursts) if possible.

3.) Documentation Teams

Record frontline police behavior: badge numbers, arrest techniques, excessive force

Operate from both within the crowd and elevated locations (windows, rooftops)

Footage is backed up live or regularly to offsite/secure storage

Purpose: create admissible evidence, not confrontation

4.) Legal Observation

Volunteer teams modeled after or trained by National Lawyers Guild observers

Stationed at likely points of tension (front lines, transport wagons)

Record identifying information on officers and arrestees

Maintain professional distance and neutrality

5.) Information Collection Teams

Gather voluntary protester IDs and emergency contacts for jail support

Log officer misconduct with timestamps, location, and unit info

Match scanner audio to observed events when possible

Prepare formal documentation post-protest

6.) Internal De-escalation Units

Monitor for behavior that gives police pretext for crackdown (property destruction, attempted arson, provocateurs)

Isolate and calm those individuals

Document suspicious agitators if needed

Priority: avoid PR collapse and legal justification for suppression

7.) Social Media Coordination

Designated accounts post verified updates, police positioning, arrest reports

Monitor and counter disinformation in real time

Preferably run by people off-site using VPNs and alt accounts

No central account—decentralized posting reduces vulnerability

8.) Movement

If you use public transportation pay with cash, use cash to buy metro/transport cards at a currency exchange (or similar location) or use a pre-paid RFID debit cards that allow them

If you use private transportation park away from protests to reduce harassment, potential theft/destruction, and to give yourself an reasonable exit.

9.) Response Unit (Healthcare, Hydration, Tactical Defense, De-escalation)

The Response Unit is tasked with frontline and midline support during moments of escalation, crowd distress, or chemical/impact deployment. These volunteers must remain calm, mobile, and trained. Equipment should be organized in marked bags or packs, easily accessible in chaotic conditions.

Healthcare & First Aid

Carry first aid kits with trauma pads, saline flush, gloves, and antiseptics

Identify medics visually (e.g., colored tape or marked vests) but avoid excessive attention

Triage in place when possible; move only if absolutely necessary

Volunteers should know how to treat blunt trauma, burns, sprains, and lacerations

Carry emergency contact forms for unconscious individuals (if pre-registered)

Affordable EM devices include Portable Blood Pressure Monitor Cuffs and Blood Glucose Monitoring Kits

Do not administer medication unless someone is a trained EMT or in a related field

Hydration

Distribute water regularly, especially in high-heat or long-march conditions

Keep backup water for emergency use (decontamination, eye flushes)

Tactical Response: Smoke, Gas, Impact

Carry water buckets or wide-mouth bottles to neutralize smoke canisters (if safe to do so)

Use thick gloves or tongs if attempting removal

Umbrellas can block gas and redirect airflow briefly; also break up visibility for snipers or drones; they can also bounce thrown smoke grenades or flashbangs, although those are usually ground-tossed

Protective eyewear, cloth masks, or soaked bandanas help but are not full protection against tear gas

Use saline or water+antacid (e.g., Maalox) 50/50 mix to flush eyes exposed to pepper spray

Never use oil-based lotions or creams pre-protest (they trap chemicals)

De-escalation & Crowd Calm

Trained volunteers move to calm panicked or agitated groups

Help direct people toward exits or safe zones without creating additional chaos

Watch for false alarms, planted agents, or compromised individuals

Quiet body language and clear, short commands work best ("Walk. Breathe. This way.")

Never escalate physical confrontation unless to prevent serious injury

Additional Tips:

Carry duplicates of essential tools in case of loss or theft

Avoid overpacking or overidentification with red/medical markings (can become targets)

Plan rendezvous points for regrouping post-escalation

Ensure units understand hand signals or light-code cues if verbal communication is compromised

Do not bring items that can harm both authorities and civilians (laser pointers, weapons, dangerous chemicals, etc) and do not bring items you are unsure of that would give authorities an excuse to attack (multitools, large flashlights that can be mistaken for a weapon, large bike-locks that could used a weapon, etc)

The Response Unit is not just reactive — it stabilizes the group, maintains morale, and ensures that no one is left behind when systems break down.

Notes:

Avoid bringing phones with biometrics or open apps if attending in person; use mesh networks or QR-based Signal groups if possible

Avoid bring phones at all if possible

All volunteers should know jail support procedures and have legal aid numbers memorized or written down

This model is not about optics. It’s about minimizing risk and maximizing accountability. Share, adapt, or operationalize as needed.