#bogus interview

[timbarrus]

I did not give the Interview circulating that has me saying (in print) garbage.

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

THEY FUCKING KILLED HIM

source!!

[lemotmo]

spoke to my friend whom works in media and they said ryan has not been available to the press for two weeks so this is definitely old as hell, me thinks 8x11 maybe even earlier. Like 8x09 stuff but yeah this is old news. It's diabolical yahoo decided to post this now though.

Yeah, that's what I thought. It doesn't even read like a normal interview.

Thanks for the information.

[hollywoodoutbreak]

Not many things are as rad as the weird humor, wacky characters, and carefree adventure of the Bill & Ted movies. But for Keanu Reeves, who played Ted “Theodore” Logan, these movies weren’t just fun – they changed his life.

Keanu’s big break came with Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. It launched him into stardom and set him up for a career packed with legendary roles. From the action-packed Point Break and Speed to the game-changing Matrix trilogy and the unstoppable John Wick franchise, it all started with two dudes traveling through time in a phone booth.

By the time the 1991 sequel, Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, came out, Keanu was already reflecting on just how much the first film had shaped his life.

Both Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey are available on DVD, Blu-ray, 4K, and digital platforms like Amazon. You can also stream both films now on Prime Video.

[museenkuss]

This was about a different group project but I had to go back and dig it out again because, wow. You never know how much people love avoiding work until you have to do a group project.

they should not have you do group projects once you've reached your masters. This is degrading.

[probablyasocialecologist]

While maintaining that “for some, the best outcome will be transition,” it nevertheless effectively recommended that the N.H.S. abandon the guidelines embraced by major mainstream medical associations and restrict the use of medications that have been offered for decades to adolescents across the globe with vanishingly few negative side effects or regrets. The reason, the report says, is that these treatments are insufficiently supported by reliable, long-term evidence. Then, remarkably, the report recommends treatments — psychological treatment and medications for depression and anxiety — that have even less proof behind them in helping children (or adults) with gender dysphoria, though they may help with other mental health issues, and many children with dysphoria already get these treatments. And for all its insistence of evidence, the report is peppered with mere speculation about the potential causes of gender dysphoria: pornography and the phenomenon of social contagion are invoked, with zero credible evidence to support them. It is a strange document. Social conservatives welcomed the report. But it has also been heralded in some liberal quarters in Britain, where even the Labour Party has supported its conclusions, and around the world as a model of open-minded rationalism, of well-intentioned — progressive, even — unbiased scientific inquiry attempting to provide information in young people’s best interests. This, they declare, is what following the science and the evidence looks like. But is it? In an effort to evaluate the Cass report’s findings and recommendations, I spent the months since it was released poring over the document, researching the history of transgender medicine and interviewing experts in gender-affirming care as well as epidemiologists and research scientists about the role of scientific evidence in determining care standards. What I have come to realize is that this report, for all its claims of impartiality, is fundamentally a subjective, political document.

[...]

A great deal of the media coverage of gender-affirming care in the West has painted a picture of huge numbers of children, some of them suffering from profound mental illness, rushed into medical transition, practically force-fed puberty blockers and hormones, then fast-tracked to surgery once they turned 18, based on unproven treatment and perhaps bogus science. But the report itself not only fails to show any evidence of significant regret among patients or other forms of harm; its own data also contradicts the notion of rushed transition. Of the more than 3,300 medical records examined as part of the review, about a quarter of children and adolescents were referred to an endocrinologist, which suggests a significant screening process. Indeed, on average, patients had more than a half dozen consultations before being referred. If anything, the evidence suggests a lack of care bordering on neglect, which is not surprising considering that millions of people are on waiting lists for treatment of all kinds by Britain’s crumbling health system. One of the most common pieces of feedback was that young people lingered on waiting lists, sometimes for years. A number of participants in focus groups convened for the purpose of the report said they felt that they had to “prove” to clinicians that they were transgender.

[...]

At one point the report posits that because a child has never had the experience of growing up in their assigned sex, they would have no way to know whether they might regret transition. “They may have had a different outcome without medical intervention and would not have needed to take lifelong hormones,” the report says, referring to children assigned female at birth. It is hard to know what to make of a statement like that. A person gets only one life; waiting to see how it works out isn’t really an option. To a queer woman like me, this is an ominous echo of something many of us have heard many times in our lives: Maybe you just haven’t met the right man yet. The wish — whether expressed by a parent, a teacher, a therapist or a suitor — is a wish for a child not to be queer. It is hard to find a satisfying explanation for these kinds of conjectures and conclusions in the report other than this one: Many people find transgender people at best unsettling and possibly deluded or mentally ill, or at worst immoral and unnatural. They appear to believe it would be better not to be trans. As much as Cass’s report insists that all lives — trans lives, cis lives, nonbinary lives — have equal value, taken in full it seems to have a clear, paramount goal: making living life in the sex you are assigned at birth as attractive and likely as possible. Whether Cass wants to acknowledge it or not, that is a value judgment: It is better to learn to live with your assigned sex than try to change it. If this is what Cass personally believes is right, fair enough. It can charitably be called a cultural, political or religious belief. But it is not a medical or scientific judgment.

13 Aug 2024 | Link

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Aya: My name is Aya Ahmed Abdullah Sa'id al-Banna. I study at [UNRWA's] Tulkarm Camp Girls' School.

Interviewer: Did you learn anything in school about the Right of Return?

Aya: Yes. The right of the brave, and we'll return to our land, stuff like that.

Interviewer: What do they teach you about Israel?

Aya: That we'll... That we'll shoot them

Interviewer: Do you hate the Jews?

Aya: Yes, a lot.

Interviewer: Why?

Aya: Because they're our enemies and we'll take back our right from them.

Interviewer: What do you think about the attack on Israel on October 7th and the war that happened after it? Is this connected to the Right of Return?

Aya: Yes. So that we can take Palestine, and so that our land returns to us.

Interviewer: Do you think Al-Aqsa is just symbolic?

Aya: No, I'm willing to fight for it.

Interviewer: Is there room for the Jews in Al-Aqsa?

Aya: No.

Interviewer: Do the Jews have the right to exist here in Palestine?

Aya: No. Because Palestine is ours, not theirs.

Interviewer: Is it possible to divide Palestine between the Jews and the Palestinians?

Aya: No. This is our land.

Interviewer: What do you like to watch the most on your phone?

Aya: I like to watch things about Palestine, the martyrs, the resistance fighters and Hamas.

Interviewer: So, would you want to join the resistance?

Aya: Yes.

Interviewer: Why?

Aya: So that I can fight, and take my rights from Israel and become a martyr.

Interviewer: What do you learn in school about peace?

Aya: It teaches me... that we don't like Israel.

Interviewer: Are the martyrs heroes?

Aya: Yes, they're big heroes.

Interviewer: Do you want to become a martyr?

Aya: Yes.

Interviewer: Why?

Aya: So that we can rise up to Allah.

==

UNRWA is just a front for Hamas.

Reminder that Al-Aqsa resides on the Temple Mount, and the existence of both the First and Second Temples at that location is well-established. Yes, the bible is fictional, but so is Spider-Man and we don't have to assume that New York is fictional too, because fiction can be set in real locations. And we don't have to blindly trust the fables of the bible when there is archaeological evidence.

No matter how much bogus postmodern academic gibberish Hamas supporters throw around, this is about Islamic hate for Jews. And always was.

"You should attack every Jew possible in all the world and kill them." -- Fathi Hamad, Hamas Interior Minister

"People of Jerusalem. We want you to cut off the heads of the Jews with knives. With your hand, cut their artery from here. A knife costs five shekels. Buy a knife, sharpen it, put it there, and just cut off [their heads]. It costs just five shekels." -- Fathi Hamad, Hamas Interior Minister

"... the Islamic Resistance Movement aspires to the realisation of Allah's promise, no matter how long that should take. The Prophet, Allah bless him and grant him salvation, has said: 'The Day of Judgement will not come about until Moslems fight the Jews (killing the Jews), when the Jew will hide behind stones and trees. The stones and trees will say O Moslems, O Abdulla, there is a Jew behind me, come and kill him.'" -- Hamas Charter, 1988

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Courtney Hagle at MMFA:

Politico journalist Alex Isenstadt’s forthcoming book about President-elect Donald Trump’s return to the White House reportedly claims that Trump “seriously considered tapping Fox Business anchor Maria Bartiromo as his running mate, before being talked out of it by his team.”  According to a January 8 report by CNN, Isenstadt writes that Bartiromo was a “Trump favorite” for her fervent defenses and softball interviews of the president-elect. As per Isenstadt, Trump “was dead serious about Bartiromo and was making the case for her" to be his running mate, but ultimately there “was no time to vet Bartiromo, as they had spent months doing with other candidates." Bartiromo repeatedly used her Fox show to fan the conspiratorial flames during the 2020 election and its aftermath. When she interviewed Sidney Powell about “voting irregularities” in November 2020, Bartiromo was aware that the Trump lawyer would “respond with conspiracy theories about Dominion” based on sources that Powell admitted herself were “pretty wackadoodle” — yet Bartiromo still gave credibility to Powell’s “far-fetched claims.” The lawsuit filings revealed that Fox News knew about Bartiromo’s conspiratorial coverage but did little to stop it, with executives privately lamenting that Bartiromo amplified “GOP conspiracy theorists.” Bartiromo also used the right-wing social media app Parler to push a slew of election conspiracy theories. Bartiromo was instrumental in advancing 2020 election conspiracy theories that led to the January 6 insurrection, particularly the claims that Dominion and Smartmatic voting machines flipped votes. The companies sued Fox News and other conservative media outlets for spreading these bogus conspiracy theories, and Fox ultimately settled with Dominion for $787 million. Bartiromo was repeatedly named throughout the various lawsuits, and it was later revealed that she took directives from the Trump campaign to promote the plan to overturn the 2020 presidential election results.

According to Politico’s Alex Isenstadt’s new book Revenge: The Inside Story Of Trump’s Return To Power, Donald Trump reportedly wanted Fox “Business”/Fox “News” propagandist Maria Bartiromo to be his running mate. That job ultimately went to Ohio Senator JD Vance, and the ticket then won this past November.

[survivalove]

debunking lies zutara shippers say about the atla creators & writers

disclaimer: this is in no way an endorsement or defense of bryke or anyone mentioned. literally just debunking false statements i see spread throughout and outside the fandom as it pertains to kataang

1. that bryke made kataang endgame because the nice guy should get the girl

this is something I see often usually linked with this video of a man ⬇️ who they claim to be bryan/mike echoing this sentiment.

this man is in fact john o’bryan, one of the three known zk shippers in the writers’ room (we’ll expand on this in point 5) talking about how he saw aang. not the creators. so of course it shouldn’t surprise anyone that he doesn’t even like kataang in the first place.

2. that bryke made kataang endgame last minute and zutara was the original pairing

bryan and mike (notice how i’m using both of their names separately. this too will be important in the next point) have talked about how kataang was planned since they originally wrote the show.

they have also talked ad nauseam in a video (which I will not share here cuz it made a lot of ppl angry) about why they do not like zutara and its shippers, so this entire point is bogus.

++ the reason why they say zk was the original pairing is because of one of the zk writers (joshua hamilton) wrote this in the atla fun facts that used to run on tv. (we’ll get into him later) those atla fun facts contain a lot of inaccurate/non canon “facts” which you can check and verify on avatar wiki if you know what i’m talking about.

3. that aang is bryke’s self insert (specifically mike)

yeah, here’s where the separation becomes important. bryan (L) and mike (R) are two different men. mike has never said that aang was his self-insert, nor has he directly talked about relating to aang. bryan, however, constantly talks about how much he relates to zuko. even, going as far to say he tries to think like zuko when he writes characters and shows.

the only time mike has come close to saying he relates to aang is when dante said he thinks mike is more like aang while bryan is more like zuko, and they, mostly bryan, agreed. (mike has actually said he relates to korra more than aang but hey) bryan also is the one who drew mike’s beard on adult aang because he considered it a nice reference to his friend. this is the main reason why shippers ran with that self-insert narrative because half the time, they think bryke is actually one person ☠️

++ in fact, aang’s original character design is based off the mixed black-chinese son of sifu kisu

4. that atla was supposed to have a season 4 where katara and zuko got together

this is mostly something that has come out of a fabricated interview by the head writer, aaron ehasz. he was allegedly asked what he would have liked to do if given the chance to write a fourth season of the show and talked about an azula redemption arc among other things. zutaras then made up a whole fake interview including that he wanted to make the two characters endgame.

ehasz then came out to say that most of these “interviews” were faked and that he has never talked about having a preference for any ship. if you go on his twitter, you will see him talking about an azula redemption arc tho.

as for atla having a 4th season at all, it was never intended. the creators, the music composers have all said at various points in time, the show was written and pitched as three seasons, three elements.

5. that most of the other writers shipped zutara and bryke’s authoritarianism shut it down

as I said above, only three writers on the original show have come out to say they preferred zk at some point. atla has had a total of 21 staff writers. 3 out of 21 is not most if you ask me.

as for bryke (yes now i’m using the shorthand cuz i proved my point earlier) being authoritarians, no writer or staff that has worked with them on the show has said this so…? idk where that came from but i’m not here to back them up just mention facts.

6. that all the women who worked on the franchise shipped zutara while only men shipped kataang

atla has very few female staff as it is:

5 writers (elizabeth welch: zk; others: unknown)

1 director (unknown)

5 storyboard/character artists (lauren montgomery: ka; elsa garagarza: ka; angela song mueller: zk; others: unknown)

1 comic writer (faith erin hicks: ka)

2 comic artists (gurihiru: ka)

++ mae whitman (katara’s voice actress) has expressed her like for both ships throughout the years.

so i’m not sure what defines all and only for some ppl but those definitions are not in my dictionary. disclaimer: i’m not declaring anyone here as a shipper in any official sense. this is just based off statements they have made that you can google!

7. that katara is written poorly in post-atla content because of kataang/bryke

I mean the first part isn’t really a lie, more of an opinion which I can agree with to an extent.

why I mention this here is because zks will not only go on a tangent and link the misogyny in the writing to a m/f ship and say the other m/f ship would have been more feminist…

but they also refuse to hold all the men involved accountable. like I said, 3 known atla writers shipped zk and 2 of them (joshua & john) were men (who would’ve thought men could like a ship and it could still be considered feminist 😃). they were also 2 out of only 4 atla writers that came back for legend of korra, outside of the creators. (19 to 4 ☠️ no comment). these shippers very well know this and instead of holding these men accountable for the misogynistic writing, they instead brag about them shipping it and ask them about zk whenever they have the chance.

another example is gene luen yang, a comic writer who again shipped zk (another man GASPPPPP) responsible for the first 5 comic books. everyone knows his comics suck in terms of characterization, particularly katara’s. in fact zutaras have made multiple threads on how poor the writing is. funnily enough, they always fail to mention that gly was the script writer or acknowledge his part in this mischaracterization, while bragging about him shipping zk in other posts. ironic.

meanwhile, bryke have never offered writers’ commentary on any of gly’s comics besides the search - mike (because they were mostly writing legend of korra during his run.)

basically these shippers don’t care about misogyny or holding male writers accountable if they ship zk which is funny because I thought it was… for the female gaze? why are you hyping men shipping it anyway? confusion.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter to Star in ‘Waiting for Godot’ on Broadway

They played slacker buddies in three “Bill & Ted” films, and next year they plan to reunite for Beckett’s classic tragicomedy.

By Michael Paulson

Aug. 1, 2024

Call it Bill and Ted’s Existentialist Adventure.

Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter, the actors who incarnated a pair of slacker musicians for three “Bill & Ted” films, are planning to reunite for a Broadway revival of “Waiting for Godot.”

The production, planned for the fall of 2025, will be directed by Jamie Lloyd, one of the hottest directors of the moment, whose work is characterized by a spare aesthetic and an emphasis on psychological intensity.

Lloyd said that the project was Reeves’s idea, but that as soon as the actor approached him, “it was a no-brainer that this needed to be done.”

“Their instant chemistry and their shorthand and their friendship is going to be so valuable,” Lloyd said of Reeves and Winter in an interview. “This is a very deeply complex play, as we all know, but it’s also a very funny play, and they’re very witty people and their shared sense of humor in those movies and in real life is going to be very beneficial to the production.”

In “Godot,” Reeves will play Estragon and Winter will play Vladimir, who banter and bicker while waiting for a mysterious figure who never arrives. “Those characters take solace in their companionship as they stumble toward the void,” Lloyd said, adding, “that’s going to be the central thesis of the production, with Keanu and Alex’s own friendship.”

“Waiting for Godot,” by the Irish playwright Samuel Beckett, was first staged in French in 1953 and then in English in 1955. The play was first performed on Broadway in 1956, and has been revived there three times since, most recently in 2013 with Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart.

Reeves, the prolific film star of the “Matrix” and “John Wick” series, will be making his Broadway debut with “Godot.” He likes a challenge: In 1995, he played Hamlet in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Winter, who writes and directs in addition to acting, appeared on Broadway twice in the 1970s, when he was a teenager, in musical revivals of “The King and I” and “Peter Pan.”

The two first worked together in 1989 in “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” A second film, “Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey,” arrived in 1991, and a third, “Bill & Ted Face the Music,” in 2020.

Lloyd, based in London, has become a regular presence in New York. Last year he directed a revival of “A Doll’s House” starring Jessica Chastain, and this fall he will direct a revival of “Sunset Boulevard” starring Nicole Scherzinger.

The “Waiting for Godot” revival is being produced by Lloyd’s production company, as well as ATG Productions, Bad Robot Live (J.J. Abrams’s company) and Gavin Kalin Productions. ATG is a British theater company that has a long relationship with Lloyd and operates seven Broadway theaters; the production said that “Godot” would be staged in one of those ATG theaters.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/01/theater/keanu-reeves-broadway-godot.html?unlocked_article_code=1._k0.sgY5.jVlfdfEVMdVl&smid=url-share

[petercapaldi-press]

INTERVIEW

Peter Capaldi: ‘My closest brush with the law? I was arrested in connection with a bomb explosion’

Sat 19 Jun 2021

Rosanna Greenstreet

The actor on bringing back grants for further education and being kept awake by the cat

Born in Glasgow, Peter Capaldi, 63, was the 12th incarnation of the Doctor in Doctor Who. In 2010, he won a Bafta for his portrayal of Malcolm Tucker, the prime minister’s political enforcer, in The Thick Of It. From 23 June, he stars in Constellations at the Vaudeville theatre in London. He is married to the actor Elaine Collins; they have a daughter and live in London.

What is your earliest memory? I can vividly recall being in an old-fashioned pram with a hood and seeing sunshine and what was, I realise now, the grey stone of a Glasgow tenement.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself I was brought up to be very polite, so that becomes quite tiring, particularly if you are off the telly. I do like people, but I am often exhausted by this overwhelming need to make it all right for them to meet me.

What makes you unhappy? The spreading and celebration of wilful ignorance by people who should know better.

What do you most dislike about your appearance? The daily vanishing of the young bits.

If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose? The grant system. It allowed people like me, from modest backgrounds, to go into further education without being saddled with debt.

What is your most unappealing habit? I can’t settle on a table at a restaurant or a cafe. I’ll pick one, move to another, then feel that I’ve made a mistake and go back to my original table. I can bounce around for 15 minutes.

If you could go back in time, where would you go? Because of Doctor Who, I’ve had to make up so many bogus answers to this question, so I never want to answer it again.

What is the worst job you’ve done? I have been pretty terrible in quite a lot of terrible things.

What is the worst thing anyone has said to you? In volleyball, my PE teacher would say: “The most important thing is to find the fault in the other team.” And then he would throw the ball at me – I was the fault. That was teaching in the west of Scotland in the 1970s.

What or who is the greatest love of your life? My wife.

What does love feel like? Us.

What was the best kiss of your life? 12 September 1985, under a street lamp in Glasgow with Elaine.

What has been your biggest disappointment? I am always disappointed when I see myself on the screen.

What is the closest you’ve come to death? Death is always close.

What has been your closest brush with the law? In 1975, in York (I must have been 17): there was a bomb explosion. It was 3am, I was with some pals and we were picked up by the police who, hearing our Scottish accents, seemed to connect us to the explosion. We were taken in for questioning, which was scary, but it didn’t take them long to suss out these fey youngsters were incapable of a bomb plot.

What keeps you awake at night? Our ancient cat miaowing, because it’s got dementia.

What song would you like played at your funeral? Johnny Cash’s version of Danny Boy.

What is the most important lesson life has taught you? It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.

[hollywoodoutbreak]

To most people, the Bill & Ted films -- especially the original, Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure -- were just a pleasant diversion, some escapist fun and laughs at the theater. But, to the man who played Ted, Keanu Reeves, the experience was life-changing. It was his first hit film, and it opened the door for plenty of opportunities in the years to come, including the hits Point Break, Speed,, John Wick and The Matrix. When Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey opened in 1991, Reeves talked to us about how significant Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure was for him.

All three Bill & Ted movies are available on DVD and most digital platforms.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PGish

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Reader is kind of mean to Billy. Random guy gets grope-y and doesn't want to take no for an answer. There's a little bit of violence. And reader has far too much to drink. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.3k

A/N : This follows on directly from the last part! Thanks to everyone still following this and for all the likes, comments and reblogs, y'all are awesome!!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN

Chapter Eight

The club was packed, the dance floor a sea of bodies in costumes and faces in masks. You regretted deciding to go the moment you saw how full it was, but Tammy had hold of your wrist, leading you towards the bar. It was your round and, suddenly, you were very glad of the two hundred dollars Billy had tipped you for his bogus delivery. Eventually you all ended up at a table, more shots were put in front of you and, honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had so much to drink

Michelle and her friend made a point of loudly letting everyone (you) know when Billy arrived. The newer Anvil recruits seemed just as uncomfortable as you at his presence and you made a point of heading to the bar before he reached your table, escaping his notice, but you found yourself glancing over your shoulder, drinking in the sight of him in one of his dark suits, matched with a red shirt, and a devil mask that covered half his face. At least he’d be easy to avoid, looking like that.

You stayed at the bar, slowly making your way through a couple of drinks, doing everything you could not to look back. And, for a time, that worked out perfectly.

Until it didn’t

You felt him behind you, standing too close, towering over you. A shiver ran up your spine as he placed his hand on the bar next to yours, so close that his thumb was almost pressed against your pinkie. The seconds ticked by; you didn’t speak and he didn’t move. You were the first to break, glancing over your shoulder, finding his dark eyes beneath the devil mask. He didn’t smile that playful smile, didn’t look happy that you’d finally decided to pay attention to him; his jaw was clenched and he just seemed lost.

Unfortunately for him, you’d had enough to drink to loosen your tongue.

“Did you tell Michelle that she’s a rebound?” Not caring about the jealousy and anger in your voice.

“I’m not here with Michelle.” 

“Not what I heard,” you answered back and watched as his shoulder twitched in annoyance, “tonight’s the night she finally gets you into bed.”

“I’m not fucking Michelle - tonight or any other night.” Barely managing to hold back his irritation, but you couldn’t tell if it was aimed at you or her.

“No, that’s right - you can’t fuck anyone, can you?” A laugh bubbled up and you hated how cruel you felt the moment it left your lips.

“You know why I’m here.”

“Yeah because she sent you a thirst trap and you were thirsty enough to fall for it. Don’t act like this has anything to do with me.”

Billy didn’t answer, he just reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening the picture Michelle had sent, zooming in on the background; it was you, talking to Tammy. He’d come to the club for you, to stop you taking anyone home, just like he said he would.

“So you’re stalking me now?” You demanded but the only answer he gave was a shrug. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but your ex was right about you; you’re a fucking psycho, Billy.”

It was enough to draw a reaction from him, one that you weren’t expecting. There was a visceral flicker of pain across his face, followed by something that almost looked like fear. He looked away from you and your stomach dropped, remembering what Karen and Frank had told you about his relationship with Krista. It felt like you’d genuinely hurt him, like you’d finally managed to strike a nerve.

“You spoke to Krista.” It wasn’t a question, wasn’t even a demand, he just sounded resigned.

“She spoke to me,” you explained, not wanting him to think you’d gone looking for dirt on him.

“When?”

“At the gala. Why? What does it matter?”

“And she told you - what? - that I’m a psychopath, that I can’t feel real emotions? Did she tell you I’m dangerous? That I hurt people?” There was pain in his voice, the kind you hadn’t meant to cause, his composure seeming to break a little more as his shoulder ticked again. “She told you all that but you still went home with me?”

“I didn’t believe her -”

“But you do now?” He didn’t let you finish. “You think I’d hurt you? That I’m capable of hurting you?” He was standing close enough that you heard his breath catch over the thrum of the music, and saw his chest shudder, like he couldn’t breathe. His hand twitched on the bar, inadvertently grazing yours as he pulled it back.

Before you could think of an answer, or say anything at all, he was turning away from you and disappearing into the crowd. You’d managed to get rid of him, but the cost felt far too high.

The next few hours passed in a blur of tequila shots and increasingly sloppy dancing with Tammy and her friends. From time to time, you caught sight of him through the crowd, Michelle permanently attached to his side, putting her hands on him at any chance she got, but every time you looked his way, it was you that held his attention. 

You kept drinking, trying to wash away the sickening feeling in your stomach, the part of you that regretted what you’d said to Billy - you’d wanted him to leave you alone, you hadn’t wanted to hurt him. And it had been low bringing Krista into it. But, the more you drank, the harder it became to really focus on any of that. You just wanted to dance, but none of the Anvil guys seemed to want to dance with you or pay you any attention, and you didn’t know if it was because of Billy or just because of you. 

With your self-esteem in the toilet, you went looking for validation elsewhere, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself a dance partner (though you really should have realised he was bad news purely because he was dressed as Jared Leto’s Joker).

You danced for a couple of songs before everything started to go wrong.

His hand found your hip, low enough that his fingers could slip into the gaps in your fishnets. You tensed, but you didn’t pull away. If he noticed your discomfort, it didn’t stop him from putting his hand on your other hip, his fingertips roughly pressing into your skin. You danced like that for another song before he got a little bolder, letting one of his hands grab your ass and pull you closer, grinding his body against yours. You managed to squirm out of his grip, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t.

“C’mon, babe, don’t tease. You’re gettin’ me hard.” He smirked, pulling you close again, grinding against you. You tried to push him away, hands on his chest, trying to struggle out of his hold. Instead of letting you go, he leaned in to kiss you. You felt his lips brush yours before -

Suddenly he was gone, pulled away from you, and someone was standing between you and him. Billy. 

“What the fuck?” He threw a clumsy fist Billy's way, but Billy was too fast (and sober). Billy stepped aside, catching him by the collar, holding him in place as he threw a punch of his own. Even over the music you heard the sickening thud of Billy's fist connecting with his face. Blood started to pour from his nose, but Billy didn't stop, hitting him again and again.

He didn't stop until a couple of the Anvil guys pulled him off, one of them telling the bloodied guy to walk away.

By the time Billy thought to turn back to you, you were already heading for the door, not even bothering to stop to get your jacket. He followed after, forcing his way through the crowd and calling out your name, discarding the stupid devil mask as he went. You didn’t stop, didn’t even turn; you just wanted to get out of there.

You were fighting back tears by the time you made it outside and into the pouring rain. It didn’t take long for Billy to catch up, lightly grabbing your wrist so you’d at least turn to look at him.

“Leave me alone, Billy.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, letting you pull away from his grip.

“What do you think?” You half-snapped, half-sobbed. “Are you happy now?”

“Why would I be happy?” He was confused, hurt by the implication.

“You were right; I can’t do this.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t want to be right like this.” He replied softly. Too softly. The care and tenderness in his voice were just too much to process.

You shook your head and turned to keep walking, and Billy started after you. For a few steps you tried to ignore it, hoping he’d get bored or decide it wasn’t worth getting soaked to the bone. Of course, he didn’t.

“Stop following me, Billy.” 

“I just want to make sure you get in a taxi and make it safely to your front door,” which, to you, made it sound like he wanted to follow you all the way home.

“I’m not getting a taxi.” You kept walking, trying to ignore the rain and the cold. Billy fell a few steps behind before realising just what you were doing.

“You’re gonna walk home in the pissing down rain just to prove a point?” He called after you, still following.

“Yeah, Billy. The point is that I’m not going to fuck you.” You snapped back, almost losing your footing as you glanced back at him.

“I get it, you don’t want me, you’ve made that painfully fucking clear.” And you really could hear that pain in his voice.

“Then why are you still following me?”

“‘cause this is a scary neighbourhood and I don’t think a good looking guy like me would make it to the end of the block on his own?” You didn’t want to laugh at his stupid joke, and you did your best to stifle it, but it hurt. You didn’t want to laugh with him, didn’t want to think about the sweet and playful guy you went for coffee with all those weeks ago, it just made walking away from him harder. 

Billy kept following as you crossed the street, watching as you shivered and tried to push your wet hair from your eyes. He stayed silent, giving you space and waiting for you to speak again. And, of course, a few minutes later, you did.

“Why did you have to ruin it?” You asked, stopping beneath a flickering street light and turning to face him. He was drenched just like you, but it didn’t seem to bother him; perks of being an ex-Marine, you supposed. “We had a perfect night, why couldn’t you just let me keep that?”

“Because I don’t want a perfect night with you, I want every night; the perfect ones and the bad ones.”

“Don’t you realise how insane that sounds? You hardly know me, Billy.”

“I know enough. I know how I feel whenever I’m around you.”

“And how’s that?” You rolled your eyes.

“Happy,” he answered uncomfortably, like he didn’t want to admit it. “I feel like I can just be myself with you, and you’ve got no idea how difficult that is for me..."

“Why would that be hard for you?”

“Seriously?” You didn’t say anything. “You’ve seen Michelle, right? You’ve seen how she is with me?”

“Yeah, she wants to fuck you, like pretty much every other woman above the age of consent in New York...” You rolled your eyes, oblivious to the point he was trying to make.

“And you think any of them would give a shit if I didn’t have money, or if I didn’t look like this?” Again, you didn’t say anything, finally starting to understand what Billy was trying to say. “Every time someone like Michelle wants to talk to me, it’s to get something. I spent my whole childhood trying to get anyone to care about me, and now people just see me for what I am, not who I am, but not you...”

The vulnerability in his voice, written all over his face, was enough to soften your expression.

“Don’t,” he told you softly, “don’t you dare pity me.”

You stayed silent, letting your eyes linger for a moment more before continuing your miserable walk in the rain. It felt strange to suddenly have a new perspective on everything, on Billy. It hadn’t crossed your mind how it must feel to have people only interested in his status and looks - honestly, with the way he acted sometimes, you’d just assumed that Billy was perfectly happy with it.

Soaked to the bone and freezing cold, you pulled your arms across your chest, shivering and regretting your childish decision to walk home. Before you knew it, Billy was at your side, draping his jacket over your shoulders, it was wet through, but it helped block the cold wind.

“Billy -”

“I don’t want you freezing to death out here.”

You didn’t argue, you already knew that it would be pointless to try. He kept walking like the cold and rain didn’t bother him, like the only one being punished on this slow walk home was you. And, by the time you reached your street, you were close to tears again, the wind was biting and you felt like a child for putting Billy through it.

Once you were finally outside your building, you turned to face him. There were roughly a thousand and one things you wanted to say to him, and only about half of them were nice. You were still angry, still frustrated beyond belief that he wouldn’t just let you go, but having heard him out, you couldn’t help but think you had to take some of the blame; you’d let things get out of hand because you’d enjoyed your time with him and, in doing so, you’d given him reason to hope for something you couldn’t give him.

A heavy sigh slipped out.

“I’m home. You can go now, Billy.”

“I said I was going to make sure you made it to your front door.”

“I’m not gonna change my mind between now and the third floor.”

It was his turn to sigh. “I’m not expecting you to. I just need to know that you’re home safe.”

“And then you’ll give up and leave me alone?” 

“I didn’t say that.”

Again - again, you knew that there was no point fighting him, that he’d follow you up regardless of what you had to say. So, you pulled his jacket tighter around your shoulders and made your way inside, taking the stairs at an awkward pace, almost stumbling a couple of times (probably why Billy had wanted to make sure you actually made it to your front door, because the walk in the scold had done little to help you sober up). And, by the time you reached your door, you felt worse than ever.

Under the flickering hallway light, you could finally see him, see the state he was in; soaked to the bone, hair dripping, shirt clinging to his body. And it was your fault - of course he wasn’t going to let you walk the New York streets on your own at two in the morning. And you could have changed your mind at any time and ordered an Uber, but you hadn’t because you’d wanted to put him through that.

As if you hadn’t already put him through enough.

“Can I get my jacket back?” He asked, breaking a silence that you had allowed to linger a touch too long.

“Why did you have to do this, Billy?” Still clinging to his jacket, knowing that he couldn’t leave without it.

“Which part?” He asked, like he thought everything that he’d done had been perfectly reasonable.

“Any of it.” Because you weren’t sure why he was fighting so hard to keep you. No one had ever fought to keep you before.

“You flinched - every time that prick put his hands on you, you flinched. And it made me so fucking angry that anyone could touch you in a way that made you uncomfortable.” His voice turned low, barely masking his anger, but it wasn’t directed at you. “He didn’t even notice - what d’you think he would have done if you’d gone home with him, if you’d asked him to stop?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. All you could think about was how Billy had always stopped when you asked, how he’d noticed every little flicker of discomfort - how he’d noticed your discomfort even when he wasn’t the one causing it.

“I don’t care what you think about me, I’d never let anyone hurt you.” He didn’t have to go on because you were sure his reasons for following you home were exactly the same. “And I - I know I hurt you earlier, and I’m so fucking sorry, but seeing him grabbing you like that...”

He didn’t have to finish the thought. And you were glad that he didn’t. The rage in his voice said more than words ever could.

It was then, when your gaze dropped to your feet, that you noticed the puddles you were both making on the tiled floor. Billy was drenched and probably cold - would he even be able to get a taxi in that state? His penthouse was so far away, and -

“Do you want to come in?” You asked in little more than mumble. “Just - just to dry off a little?”

“Are you sure?”

“Just to get dry, nothing else, I’m not going to fu-”

“I wouldn’t even if you threw yourself at me.” He interrupted. It stung to hear, though you weren’t sure why; you’d just spent the last twenty minutes telling him to leave you alone. His hand on your cheek urged you to look up so he could see you. “Only because you’re drunk  and I’d never take advantage of you,” he explained, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “you’re never going to regret a night that you spend with me.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” You practically whined, hating that he was suddenly being the perfect gentleman despite every shitty thing you’d said to him in the last twenty-four hours.

“I’m not gonna make it easy for you to get over me,” he shrugged.

Turning, you fumbled with your keys, missing the lock a couple of times before Billy took over. He unlocked the door and let you into your dark apartment. Obviously Tammy hadn’t come home yet. Finding the light switch took more effort than you would have liked and you were pretty sure Billy was trying to keep himself from laughing, especially when you almost fell over pulling your boots off. But, all the while, he stood behind you, ready to catch you if you fell.

“Go sit down,” you told him, waving towards the den before heading off to the bathroom to grab some towels, not even noticing that you still had his jacket pulled tightly around you.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror, you realised just how bad you looked; hair dripping, eyes red, and make-up running down your face. (If that hadn’t been enough to scare Billy off, what would be?) You spent a moment at the sink, trying to clean yourself up a little, scrubbing away the make-up with enough force to leave your skin feeling raw, before towel drying your hair. 

There was no noise in the apartment and you almost dared to hope that Billy had let himself out but, when you finally left the bathroom, a towel in hand, you found him in the den, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. He gave you a smile as you edged closer, holding out a hand like he was expecting you to offer him the towel. But you didn’t - that had been the plan, to let him dry himself off so he could leave - instead you stopped in front of him, standing far closer than you knew you should.

Billy didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move. Looking down you noticed the way he was gripping the edge of the table at his sides, holding tight, obviously not trusting himself not to reach for you. 

Even though you knew he was still fighting for you, he was respecting your boundaries.

Slowly, you pressed the towel to one side of his face, then the other, before towelling his hair. His eyes stayed on yours, letting you do what you wanted. Your attention moved to his neck, one hand drying his skin with the towel while the other slowly started to undo his shirt. Little by little you exposed his torso, running the towel across his chest and stomach, while you pushed the shirt off his shoulders. And Billy let you, he went along with everything until your fingers found his belt.

He took hold of your hand gently before standing slowly. When he reached for you, your breath caught and, despite every time you’d said no to him, you found yourself thinking yes. But Billy didn’t kiss you, didn’t even pull you into his arms. No, he gently pulled his wet jacket from around your shoulders and dropped it onto the table.

“You should get out of those wet clothes,” he told you softly and, despite the tenderness in his tone, it felt like a rejection. 

“Right,” you huffed, letting the towel drop from your hand. You weren’t even sure why you were upset - or what you’d even been planning to do when you got his pants off. As much as you’d been trying to convince him that you didn’t want him, some part of you obviously did.

You turned from him, but instead of heading towards your bedroom you made a beeline towards the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” He asked, getting to his feet and following after.

You didn’t need to answer, it became more than obvious once you’d fished a bottle of Jack Daniels from a cupboard and found yourself a mug. Billy let out a sigh, obviously biting back what he wanted to say; haven’t you had enough? For a second you just looked at him, expectant, but when it didn’t come, you decided to pour him a drink too (managing to splash the counter in the process).

Billy looked at the mug; a bright pink thing with the words Queen Bitch painted on in silver glitter. The corners of his lips turned up at the ridiculousness of it, eyes then rolling when he noticed that yours similarly was painted silver with the words Ray of Fucking Sunshine in gold.

When you took a drink, he did too. He let the silence linger for a few long moments, waiting to see if you had anything to say, but you were waiting for him to speak first.

“What are we doing?” 

“Drinking.” You answered, taking another sip from your mug and grimacing at the taste.

“Why?” 

“Because what else are we going to do?” You offered. Billy held up his hand in a confused half-shrug, needing you to be  more specific. “You’re half naked in my apartment but you don’t want to fuck me, so what else are we supposed to do?”

Even though you were being completely serious, Billy started to laugh but it wasn’t that playful that you’d come to enjoy pulling from him, it was something far darker. Still, you glared at him, silently demanding that he explained himself.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t wanted to fuck you, sweetheart,” there was that sharp, barely restrained tone in his voice again. He placed his mug down and stepped towards you, your head tilting back the closer he got to keep your eyes on his. “You’ve got no idea the things I want to do to you - the things I will do to you once you admit that you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you answered breathlessly, not sure which of you you were really trying to convince.

He reached for you and you let him, his hand finding your cheek and, despite your verbal protests, you leaned into the touch, letting your eyes fall shut for a few sweet seconds. You didn’t open them until Billy spoke again.

“I want you in the worst ways, I’m out of control when I’m with you, but I can’t stay away. I’m bad news, just like Krista said, and you’re right to try and tell me no. But, eventually, you’re gonna give in and then I’ll show you exactly how much I want you.” It felt like he was barely holding back again and you shivered. “Once you’re mine, I’m gonna ruin you.”

You struggled to swallow down the lump that had stuck itself in your throat, heart pounding in your chest, again struck by the notion that Billy was dangerous. But you still didn’t pull away, the heat of his palm on your cheek stoked a heat between your thighs and, although he’d already said no, you wanted him. Dangerous or not, some part of you still knew that Billy would never hurt you.

“I’m not yours,” you said again, lifting the mug to your lips and draining the rest of the Jack Daniels.

“Not yet,” he answered back.

“Maybe I’m the one who’s dangerous, maybe I’ll ruin you. You don’t know me, you don’t know what I’ve done. You think you want me but if you knew…” The mug was placed on the side and you made to move, half-thinking about throwing yourself at Billy, and half-wanting to grab his discarded drink, instead the floor seemed to shift and you fell forward. Billy caught you, holding you tight against his chest.

“Okay, time for bed, sweetheart.” And you were in no state to argue with him as he scooped you up into his arms.

CHAPTER NINE

END NOTES : I don't really have much to say about this one. I just enjoy the angst. Next chapter will take place more or less directly after this one, and we're finally going to learn a little bit more about reader (though please check the warnings on the next one because there's a few things that will probably come up that are potentially triggering). And, as always thank you so much for engaging with this story, I'm speechless how many followers I've gotten and the fact that the first chapter of this story now has over 100 notes!

Thanks for reading!!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

[embodiedfutures]

introductory excerpts on COINTELPRO

it came to my awareness that some folks don't know what COINTELPRO is still, so imma drop some excerpts from the wikipedia page. ofc there are a billion other resources you can check out, especially firsthand accounts, but this is always a good place to start! link attached below:

[Note that the embedded link above's photo has the following caption: "COINTELPRO memo proposing a plan to expose the pregnancy of actress Jean Seberg, a financial supporter of the Black Panther Party, hoping to "possibly cause her embarrassment or tarnish her image with the general public". Covert campaigns to publicly discredit activists and destroy their interpersonal relationships were a common tactic used by COINTELPRO agents."]

The Introduction:

COINTELPRO (syllabic abbreviation derived from Counter Intelligence Program; 1956–1971) was a series of covert and illegal[1][2] projects actively conducted by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) aimed at surveilling, infiltrating, discrediting, and disrupting domestic American political organizations.[3][4] FBI records show COINTELPRO resources targeted groups and individuals the FBI[5] deemed subversive,[6] including feminist organizations,[7][8] the Communist Party USA,[9] anti–Vietnam War organizers, activists of the civil rights and Black power movements (e.g. Martin Luther King Jr., the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panther Party), environmentalist and animal rights organizations, the American Indian Movement (AIM), Chicano and Mexican-American groups like the Brown Berets and the United Farm Workers, independence movements (including Puerto Rican independence groups such as the Young Lords and the Puerto Rican Socialist Party), a variety of organizations that were part of the broader New Left, and white supremacist groups such as the Ku Klux Klan[10][11] and the far-right group National States' Rights Party.[12]

Methods COINTELPRO Utilized

According to attorney Brian Glick in his book War at Home, the FBI used five main methods during COINTELPRO:

Infiltration: Agents and informers did not merely spy on political activists. Their main purpose was to discredit, disrupt and negatively redirect action. Their very presence served to undermine trust and scare off potential supporters. The FBI and police exploited this fear to smear genuine activists as agents.

Psychological warfare: The FBI and police used a myriad of "dirty tricks" to undermine movements. They planted false media stories and published bogus leaflets and other publications in the name of targeted groups. They forged correspondence, sent anonymous letters, and made anonymous telephone calls. They spread misinformation about meetings and events, set up pseudo movement groups run by government agents, and manipulated or strong-armed parents, employers, landlords, school officials, and others to cause trouble for activists. They used bad-jacketing to create suspicion about targeted activists, sometimes with lethal consequences.[74]

Harassment via the legal system: The FBI and police abused the legal system to harass dissidents and make them appear to be criminals. Officers of the law gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, "investigative" interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters.[73][75]

Illegal force: The FBI conspired with local police departments to threaten dissidents; to conduct illegal break-ins in order to search dissident homes; and to commit vandalism, assaults, beatings and assassinations.[73] The objective was to frighten or eliminate dissidents and disrupt their movements.

Undermine public opinion: One of the primary ways the FBI targeted organizations was by challenging their reputations in the community and denying them a platform to gain legitimacy. Hoover specifically designed programs to block leaders from "spreading their philosophy publicly or through the communications media". Furthermore, the organization created and controlled negative media meant to undermine black power organizations. For instance, they oversaw the creation of "documentaries" skillfully edited to paint the Black Panther Party as aggressive, and false newspapers that spread misinformation about party members. The ability of the FBI to create distrust within and between revolutionary organizations tainted their public image and weakened chances at unity and public support.[49]

The FBI specifically developed tactics intended to heighten tension and hostility between various factions in the black power movement, for example between the Black Panthers and the US Organization. For instance, the FBI sent a fake letter to the US Organization exposing a supposed Black Panther plot to murder the head of the US Organization, Ron Karenga. They then intensified this by spreading falsely attributed cartoons in the black communities pitting the Black Panther Party against the US Organization.[49] This resulted in numerous deaths, among which were San Diego Black Panther Party members John Huggins, Bunchy Carter and Sylvester Bell.[73] Another example of the FBI's anonymous letter writing campaign is how they turned the Blackstone Rangers head, Jeff Fort, against former ally Fred Hampton, by stating that Hampton had a hit on Fort.[49] They also were instrumental in developing the rift between Black Panther Party leaders Eldridge Cleaver and Huey Newton, as executed through false letters inciting the two leaders of the Black Panther Party.[49]

...

In order to eliminate black militant leaders whom they considered dangerous, the FBI is believed to have worked with local police departments to target specific individuals,[78] accuse them of crimes they did not commit, suppress exculpatory evidence and falsely incarcerate them. Elmer "Geronimo" Pratt, a Black Panther Party leader, was incarcerated for 27 years before a California Superior Court vacated his murder conviction, ultimately freeing him. Appearing before the court, an FBI agent testified that he believed Pratt had been framed, because both the FBI and the Los Angeles Police Department knew he had not been in the area at the time the murder occurred.[79][80]

...

In 1969 the FBI special agent in San Francisco wrote Hoover that his investigation of the Black Panther Party had concluded that in his city, at least, the Panthers were primarily engaged in feeding breakfast to children. Hoover fired back a memo implying the agent's career goals would be directly affected by his supplying evidence to support Hoover's view that the Black Panther Party was "a violence-prone organization seeking to overthrow the Government by revolutionary means".[84]

Hoover supported using false claims to attack his political enemies. In one memo he wrote: "Purpose of counterintelligence action is to disrupt the Black Panther Party and it is immaterial whether facts exist to substantiate the charge."[85]

Intended Effects of COINTELPRO

The intended effect of the FBI's COINTELPRO was to "expose, disrupt, misdirect, or otherwise neutralize" groups that the FBI officials believed were "subversive"[58] by instructing FBI field operatives to:[59] 1. Create a negative public image for target groups (for example through surveilling activists and then releasing negative personal information to the public) 2. Break down internal organization by creating conflicts (for example, by having agents exacerbate racial tensions, or send anonymous letters to try to create conflicts) 3. Create dissension between groups (for example, by spreading rumors that other groups were stealing money) 4. Restrict access to public resources (for example, by pressuring non-profit organizations to cut off funding or material support) 5. Restrict the ability to organize protest (for example, through agents promoting violence against police during planning and at protests) 6. Restrict the ability of individuals to participate in group activities (for example, by character assassinations, false arrests, surveillance)

When did they start?

Centralized operations under COINTELPRO officially began in August 1956 with a program designed to "increase factionalism, cause disruption and win defections" inside the Communist Party USA (CPUSA). Tactics included anonymous phone calls, Internal Revenue Service (IRS) audits, and the creation of documents that would divide the American communist organization internally.[9] An October 1956 memo from Hoover reclassified the FBI's ongoing surveillance of black leaders, including it within COINTELPRO, with the justification that the movement was infiltrated by communists.[31] In 1956, Hoover sent an open letter denouncing Dr. T. R. M. Howard, a civil rights leader, surgeon, and wealthy entrepreneur in Mississippi who had criticized FBI inaction in solving recent murders of George W. Lee, Emmett Till, and other African Americans in the South.[32] When the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), an African-American civil rights organization, was founded in 1957, the FBI began to monitor and target the group almost immediately, focusing particularly on Bayard Rustin, Stanley Levison, and eventually Martin Luther King Jr.[33]

How did the news get out about COINTELPRO?

The program was secret until March 8, 1971, when the Citizens' Commission to Investigate the FBI burgled an FBI field office in Media, Pennsylvania, took several dossiers, and exposed the program by passing this material to news agencies.[1][54] The boxing match known as the Fight of the Century between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in March 1971 provided cover for the activist group to successfully pull off the burglary. Muhammad Ali was a COINTELPRO target because he had joined the Nation of Islam and the anti-war movement.[55] Many news organizations initially refused to immediately publish the information, with the notable exception of The Washington Post. After affirming the reliability of the documents, it published them on the front page (in defiance of the Attorney General's request), prompting other organizations to follow suit. Within the year, Director J. Edgar Hoover declared that the centralized COINTELPRO was over, and that all future counterintelligence operations would be handled case by case.[56][57]

[snezus-christ-risen]

I read a beautiful fic the other day that DEVASTATED me so I decided to cope by writing this fluffy Christmassy Agathario AU. They live in an apartment in the city (doesn’t matter which, take your pick) with their young son Nicky. Rio travels a lot for work and comes back from her most recent business trip feeling a little under the weather — just in time for the holidays!

Not a lot of spellings this time, sorry if that makes it less enjoyable for anyone! I just needed a bit of a break from mashing letters together and hoping they sound good lol. I’m sure you all heard the interview, you know what they sound like. (;

I had another prompt request, I’ll probably do a little follow up to this when Agatha (not a spoiler because the prompt is literally contagion) inevitably gets sick from the bioweapon that is Rio Vidal.

Part 2

Part 3

CW: contagion

Prompt: Contagious & Tissues

Agatha could hear her before she even got to the front door; in fact, it was the sound that set her stirring in the first place. She sat up on the couch where she had dozed off waiting and tilted her head to hear better. There it was again – “ASCHh!-ue” — a resounding sneeze thundering down the hall, shamelessly loud and unmistakably Rio. It was followed seconds later by another, then another. They seemed to grow in volume as she drew closer, and Agatha swore she could hear the wheels of her rolling luggage skip a beat with each outburst. Rio concluded her fit with a biting “Fuck!” that echoed down the hallway like the crack of a whip. Their neighbors hated the Harkness-Vidal family for many reasons, most of them totally bogus, but this one… well, this one was valid.

A quick glance at her phone told Agatha it was just past midnight. Forcing herself to leave the warmth of her blanket cocoon, she shivered as she padded barefoot to the front door, guided by the glow of the Christmas tree they had erected out of parental guilt. Agatha would never admit it, but she had grown fond of the giant green carcass that took up most of their living room. Nicky had chosen it himself, Rio had chopped it down, and they had decorated it together as a family. With her own hectic schedule and Rio traveling so much for work, Agatha learned to cherish the little moments in between when they were all in the same place at the same time.

She heard her wife fumbling with her keys at the door, noting the hesitation in her movements before they ceased altogether. The short-lived silence was broken by an aggressive “AH’TCHHh!” that was close enough to make Agatha jump.

“Jesus Christ, Rio,” she hissed under her breath, not looking forward to the passive aggressive letters that would be slipped under their door in the coming days.

The keys resumed their jingling and the door swung open. Rio hesitated in the hallway, eyes closed and hand still gripping the doorknob. She looked pale, exhausted, and on the verge of sneezing again. Agatha waited until she snagged a preparatory breath to poke her in the stomach, quite literally knocking the wind out of her.

“What the fuck?” Rio exclaimed, more confused than annoyed as the urge to sneeze faded abruptly. She squinted at Agatha in the dim light and rubbed where she had poked her with a frown.

“Get a grip,” Agatha snapped. “Nicky’s sleeping.”

“Hey, babe, I mbissed you too,” Rio deadpanned, hauling her suitcase across the threshold.

She dropped it abruptly when her nose scrunched up. An irritated look creased her face as she pinched it, then rubbed it, trying to find the right combination of pressure to subdue the persistent itch that was making it squirm. Her nose was cherry red, like it had been when she chopped down their tree. It kept running from the cold that afternoon, even after they returned to cups of hot chocolate in the warmth of their apartment. This was clearly from a different sort of cold.

Agatha sighed, not sure how to feel. She didn’t want her family getting sick for the holidays, but there was something sort of… spectacular about watching Rio navigate a cold. While colds always seemed to knock Agatha on her ass, Rio somehow became more energetic. Her devil-may-care attitude was rarely dampened by her symptoms, making her an asset to the virus. Nobody could stop Rio if she wanted to do something while she was sick, not even Agatha, and so she went about her usual business, coughing and sneezing her way openly through the duration of her illness without any consideration for who might be caught in the crossfire. Nicky was the only exception.

When Rio raked in a shaky breath, Agatha put her finger to her lips, a reminder to be quiet. Nodding vaguely in agreement, Rio guided her face into the nest of tissues she had clutched in her right hand and tried to muffle the sound of her sneeze. It was still louder than Agatha would have liked, but she knew it was the best Rio could do, and certainly a better effort than what she gave in the hallway.

“I didn’t know you knew how to use those things,” Agatha joked lightly. Normally she just sort of sneezed at them, if she bothered with tissues at all.

“I got a — huhh! — a c-crash course at the codvendtiond,” she said, keeping her nose in the tissues as she waited for the next sneeze to manifest. “Everywud there was sih-hihhh—hh’hihh!… ohh, I’be godda—”

“Oh honey, I know,” Agatha said with a smirk, just as Rio exploded with a pair of sneezes — “ASHH’hoo! huh’ATCHH’oo!” — that ruffled the tissues. Her smile switched to a frown in an instant.

“Babe.” Agatha’s tone was firm but gentle as she pointed behind her, in the general vicinity of the bedrooms. “Nicky. Sleeping.”

“Ugh, sorry.” Rio blew her nose, trying her best to do so quietly. “I’be so tired, Aggie…”

“Then lie down, my love,” Agatha said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips when she lowered the tissues. She was probably teeming with germs, but with them sharing the same space, it wasn’t going to matter if they kissed or not. Rio never brought something home without also sharing it with Agatha. “I’ll take care of all of this.”

Kicking off her shoes, but keeping the coat and hat, Rio took over her spot on the couch as Agatha brought the suitcase and a shopping bag inside. It was from a toy store, and when Agatha saw the action figure peeking out of the top she gasped. Taking it out, she held up the box and glanced at Rio, who was now face down on the couch.

“You found it?”

“Hm?” Rio turned her face from the cushion to look blearily at Agatha. When she saw what it was she smiled, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh. Yeah. Last wud, too.”

“Nicky’s gonna flip,” she said, already looking for the scissors and tape. “I’ll wrap it now. You keep watch.”

“Now?” Rio whined, clearly wanting company on the couch, but Agatha put a hand on her hip.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” she said bluntly. “When else would I do it?”

Rio sighed in resignation, then coughed as she rolled onto her side. She glanced at the pile of presents that were already wrapped and under the tree, her eyes watery and twinkling in the soft warm light. Squinting, she lifted her hand slightly, drew a trembling breath, and sneezed towards the tissues, the sound surprisingly soft and airy. Agatha could see the spray she didn’t catch — which was most of it — illuminated by the light of the tree. At least she remembered to use her inside voice with that one.

“You humans and your strange wrapping rituals,” Rio croaked, rubbing her nose with a wet sniffle as Agatha settled on the floor with the wrapping supplies.

“You say that like you aren’t one too.“

“Am I though?” Rio asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” Agatha couldn’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I wonder.”

[primnroses]

Hello, do you have a post explaining technology in the naruto universe? It seems to be inconsistent.

It is pretty inconsistent and I think it's not used properly for the amount of technological advances they've made because in Boruto it becomes bogus. I'm gonna give you some examples but a lot of these are used 24/7 so I'm just gonna use one image.

Konoha, as well as the rest of villages (Kumogakure is said to be the most advanced technologically), have everyday life technology that we use in the real world. Pretty much everything is mechanized in Boruto's shinobi world.

1. TELEVISION AND LIVE STREAMING, AND SUBSEQUENTLY, CAMERAS:

Both Kakashi's Team 7 and Team Minato took team pictures, which means the predecessor of their modern cameras existed at least since the era of the Third Hokage, early term.

Naruto chapter 16.

They've been using television screens to broadcast live images from the Chūnin Exams back when Team 7 were genin. Gaara even looks at the television, which means there are also cameras, obviously, because they mention videotape. They also have VCR.

Naruto chapter 58.

Sasuke had a television at home, so all those interview programs that Naruto got invited too in Boruto were also a thing at least twenty years before it all. Later, everybody has a television at home, Naruto and Sakura have some more modern plasma screens.

Not to mention Konoha has screens all over their plaza in Boruto.

Naruto chapter 181 and Naruto Gaiden chapter 1.

Livestreaming wasn't just a Konoha thing, every single nation had televisions, cameras and they powered them using some special batteries as well. they also have those satellite dishes on top of buildings for broadcast.

Naruto chapter 488.

The livestreaming is actually pretty useful for daimyō conferences and emergency Gokage Summits.

The Last: Naruto the Movie and Boruto chapter 57.

2. COMPUTERS, TABLETS AND VIDEOGAMES:

I don't think I need to delve into this one too much because it's clear that in Boruto people now work using desktop computers and laptops everyday. Naruto has a laptop, the Scientific Ninja Tools obviously have multiple computers, many of Konoha's teams and departments also use laptops, Boruto has a desktop in his room, etc.

Naruto chapter 700 and Boruto episode 219.

They also have tablets and even videogame consoles have also become available in modern Konoha.

Boruto episode 211 and Boruto: Naruto the Movie.

Of course, since Naruto, there have been several machines used for health and recovery and DNA machines, etc. Or machines to facilitate mind reading as well.

3. TELEPHONES, INSTANT COMMUNICATION AND RADIO:

Phones and landlines became available after Naruto became Hokage and they're used pretty much all the time. Apparently mobile phones also exist but the information is very ambiguous because I don't recall ever seeing one, though Naruto mentions Sasuke has one depending on the translation.

Naruto Gaiden chapter 2.

Wireless radio are also very commonly used in Naruto during missions and they even evolved during the 2 year timeskip. They cover at least 1km from the shinobi's position.

Naruto chapters 9 and 263.

They have become kinda obsolete in Boruto for no reason, but they were used at least in Boruto: Naruto the Movie and the early chapters of Boruto.

It's mentioned that it's not reliable for long distance communication, but the new device is at least covering more area since Konohamaru is somewhere in the Land of Fire talking to Konoha.

I don't recall them ever using it again, which is bogus because the new radio is very modern and small so it's easy to carry even without realizing, so I don't know why everybody in Konoha don't use it if they want to forego the landlines.

Boruto chapter 16.

Konoha, as well as the Allied Shinobi Forces, used special Chakra Communication Devices or telepathy devices for mass distance communication with machines of all sizes.

The Intelligence Division and Yin users (mental energy which is the base of mind related techniques) used it to share messages from across countries to eighty thousand shinobi, as the different divisions were scattered everywhere in the Land of Lightning and other countries.

Naruto chapter 521.

I talk more about it here since this is one of the most used technological devices in Konoha.

Naruto chapter 520.

Konoha also uses a more modern version of this device in their Barrier Team to notify people of intruders. They also use computers, screens and all technology mentioned above.

Similar to the wireless radios, I don't understand why Konoha hasn't made a smaller version of this for everybody to use if they want to forego telephones.

Boruto chapter 81.

Despite the technology, Sasuke still uses his hawks for example, or Naruto sends shinobi to other villages to dispatch more confidential information. Also, I'm not sure why they haven't made more practical and smaller devices for shinobi to use or why they decided to stop using some technology.

Now the shinobi gauntlet is another story because I don't understand why they're trying to sell it as some groundbreaking invention when it's just ninjutsu sealed inside scrolls. Fūinjutsu is used to seal anything, chakra, objects, ninjutsu, even life forms.

I know they are used to seal hiden jutsu as well but it's still nonsensical because Jiraiya can even seal Amaterasu inside scrolls, and Amaterasu is a Kekkei Genkai so it can't be imitated.