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#private live in care jobs
consultu96 · 2 months
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The Role of Private Live-In Care in Modern Elderly Support
As the global population ages, the demand for elderly care solutions that respect individual autonomy and comfort has significantly increased. Private live-in care has emerged as a pivotal service, offering a blend of companionship, personal support, and healthcare within the familiar environment of one’s home. This article delves into the essence of private live-in care for the elderly, the rewarding career of live-in caregivers, and the exceptional services provided by organizations like Consultus Care and CareMatch.
Understanding Private Live-In Care
Private live-in care involves a caregiver staying in the home of the elderly individual, providing 24/7 support tailored to the client's needs. This model emphasizes personalized care, allowing seniors to maintain their routines, dignity, and independence. The services can range from basic assistance with daily activities to more comprehensive care for those with specific health conditions .
The Benefits of Aging in Place
The concept of "aging in place" is at the heart of private live-in care. Remaining in a familiar setting can have profound benefits for the elderly, including:
• Enhanced Comfort and Security: The familiarity of home provides a sense of security and comfort that is often lacking in institutional settings.
• Personalized Care: Live-in care ensures care plans are tailored to individual preferences and health needs, offering a more personal approach than traditional care facilities.
• Family Involvement: Being at home allows for easier and more frequent visits from family and friends, helping maintain strong personal relationships.
The Role of a Live-In Carer
Live-in carers are more than just healthcare providers; they are companions, confidants, and, often, friends. Their responsibilities may include:
• Personal care and hygiene assistance
• Meal preparation and diet monitoring
• Medication management
• Mobility assistance and exercise facilitation
• Light housekeeping and errand running
• Emotional support and companionship
Embarking on a Live-In Care Career
A career in live-in care is both challenging and immensely rewarding. Agencies like Consultus Care offer comprehensive training programs, ensuring their carers are well-prepared for the diverse needs of their clients. Whether you come from a professional caregiving background or are drawn to care work from another field, there is a path for you in live-in care .
CareMatch emphasizes the match between carer and care receiver, focusing on compatibility in personality and skillset. This approach ensures that the care provided is not only professional but also genuinely enriching for both parties involved.
Choosing the Right Provider
When selecting a live-in care provider, it's crucial to consider:
• The extent of training and support offered to caregivers
• The flexibility and personalization of care plans
• The provider's reputation and experience in the field
• Feedback and testimonials from current and past clients
Companies like Consultus Care, with over 60 years of experience, and innovative platforms like CareMatch, represent the high standards and compassionate care that should be expected from live-in care services.
Conclusion
Private live-in care represents a significant advancement in private care for elderly at home, offering a compassionate, personalized alternative to traditional care settings. It provides caregivers with fulfilling private live in care jobs, rich with opportunities to make a real difference in people's lives. As society continues to evolve, the role of live-in care will undoubtedly become increasingly central to our approach to elderly care.
Discover more about the nurturing environment of private care for elderly at home and the rewarding opportunities in private live-in care jobs with Consultus Care.
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consult231 · 9 months
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Private Care for the Elderly at Home: A Comprehensive Guide
In the fast-paced world of today, our elderly population deserves nothing but the best when it comes to care. As loved ones age, the idea of moving them to a care home or facility can be a daunting prospect for many families. There's always a concern for their happiness, comfort, and overall well-being. However, the notion of private care for the elderly at home is gaining popularity, and for good reason. Understanding Private Care for the Elderly at Home When we talk about private care for elderly at home, we refer to a unique caregiving approach that allows the elderly to stay in their own homes while receiving the necessary assistance they need. It can range from companionship and assistance with daily activities to medical care and monitoring. This method ensures that seniors live out their golden years with dignity, in a familiar environment, surrounded by cherished memories. The Rise of private live in care jobs Given the increasing demand for at-home elderly care, there's a correlating rise in private live in care jobs. These positions require caregivers to live with the elderly at their homes, providing them with round-the-clock care. The caregiver's role often includes assisting with daily activities, ensuring medication is taken on time, and offering companionship. While some may think that this kind of job is straightforward, it's actually much more than that. Private live in care jobs require immense dedication, patience, and most importantly, a genuine love for the elderly. It's not just about providing physical care, but also emotional and mental support. With the rise in the demand for such services, it’s crucial that those seeking to fill these positions possess not only the necessary skills but also the right disposition. Benefits of Private Care at Home 1. Familiar Environment: Being in a familiar environment can have positive effects on the elderly's mental well-being. Their own home, where they've built countless memories, provides a sense of comfort and security that is hard to replicate elsewhere. 2. Personalized Care: Unlike care homes where staff caters to several residents, private home care is tailored specifically to the individual's needs. This means that their preferences, routines, and habits are respected and incorporated into their care plan. 3. Enhanced Independence: Staying at home allows the elderly to maintain a level of independence. With assistance only when necessary, they can continue to engage in activities they love, keeping their spirits high and mind active. 4. Emotional Well-being: Private care ensures that seniors are not isolated. With caregivers always around, there's constant companionship, reducing feelings of loneliness and depression. 5. Cost-Effective: In many cases, private care for the elderly at home can be more cost-effective than care homes, especially when considering the quality of personalized care they receive. Conclusion The concept of private care for the elderly at home is not just about providing physical care. It's about allowing our seniors to live with grace, dignity, and happiness in their twilight years. By opting for such care, families can ensure their loved ones receive the best possible care without uprooting them from their beloved homes. On the other hand, those seeking to venture into private live in care jobs have a chance to make a real difference in the lives of the elderly. It's a noble profession that offers immense satisfaction, knowing that you're contributing to someone's happiness and comfort in their final years. Whether you're considering private care for your loved ones or seeking a career in the field, there's no denying that the future of elderly care lies in the heart of our homes.
Learn more about the benefits of private care for elderly at home or explore rewarding private live in care jobs today.
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andes15 · 1 year
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Consultus Care & Nursing revolutionizes private care for elderly at home with innovative services and opportunities
Tonbridge, Kent - Consultus Care & Nursing, a leading provider of home care services, is transforming the way elderly individuals receive private care in their own homes. The company offers a wide range of personalized care services, including private live in care jobs for professional caregivers. These services enable older adults to maintain their independence, dignity, and quality of life, while benefiting from top-quality, customized care tailored to their unique needs and preferences.
With an aging population and a growing demand for professional care services, Consultus Care & Nursing has made it their mission to provide exceptional private care for elderly at home. This approach helps older individuals to remain in familiar surroundings, surrounded by their loved ones and cherished memories, without the need for relocating to a care facility. Consultus Care & Nursing understands that each individual is different, which is why they offer a wide range of bespoke care services, from companionship and housekeeping to personal care and nursing support.
One of the keys to the success of Consultus Care & Nursing lies in their commitment to recruiting and training dedicated, compassionate, and professional caregivers. The company offers various private live in care jobs, providing ample opportunities for individuals who are passionate about helping others and making a difference in their clients' lives. Caregivers can choose from a variety of roles, including live-in carers, personal care assistants, and specialist nurses, depending on their qualifications, experience, and interests.
Consultus Care & Nursing is dedicated to providing not only exceptional care services but also ongoing support and training for their caregivers. The company offers an extensive range of training courses, workshops, and continuing professional development opportunities to ensure their staff remains up-to-date with the latest industry standards, practices, and regulations. This commitment to excellence in training and development is a testament to the quality of care provided by Consultus Care & Nursing, as they strive to continually improve their services and exceed their clients' expectations.
In addition to providing private care for elderly at home, Consultus Care & Nursing is also committed to supporting family caregivers who may require additional assistance or respite care. The company understands the challenges and demands that come with caring for a loved one and offers flexible, tailored care packages designed to support family caregivers in their role, providing them with the peace of mind that their loved ones are receiving the best possible care.
The growing demand for private live in care jobs and services is indicative of the increasing preference among the elderly population to age in place. Consultus Care & Nursing is proud to be at the forefront of this movement, providing exceptional, personalized care services that enable older adults to live their golden years in the comfort of their own homes. As the need for quality care services continues to grow, Consultus Care & Nursing remains dedicated to improving the lives of elderly individuals and their families by offering exceptional, compassionate, and professional care tailored to their unique needs and preferences.
About Consultus Care & Nursing
Consultus Care & Nursing is a leading provider of private care for elderly at home, offering a wide range of personalized care services to support older individuals in maintaining their independence, dignity, and quality of life. The company also offers various private live in care jobs, providing ample opportunities for professional caregivers who are passionate about helping others and making a difference in their clients' lives. With a commitment to excellence in care provision, training, and support, Consultus Care & Nursing is dedicated to improving the lives of elderly individuals and their families by offering exceptional, compassionate, and professional care tailored to their unique needs and preferences.
For more information about Consultus Care & Nursing and their services, please contact 01732 355231 or [email protected].
Discover exceptional private care for elderly at home and explore rewarding elderly, private live in care jobs with Consultus Care & Nursing, dedicated to enhancing the lives of seniors and their families through compassionate, professional care
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rxttenfish · 3 months
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slowly returning to the big miravi fic i was working on and trying to recall everything that i was going to have each individual chapter be, though i might also discard the chapter names i had going as a theme (or to add them back later, after its finished) since i dont know exactly how many chapters this will be
also im thinking about adding another merfolk in the beginning scene, both because it helps set the scene as something weird going on (since miranda's serfs are notably not merfolk and aaravi has only seen other merfolk than miri and bell inside of the actual merkingdom), and because im REALLY thinking about how i write the help lately and all of miri's serfs and staff and servants and fleshing them out. its been a huge pain in my side how every single fucking thing lately refuses to include the help and to write them out, including trying to include rich, powerful characters who dont need staff or help to run their estates or do anything, in a way that notably does not exist in reality and only serves to further mentally and psychologically separate out the classes.
which is both good and bad because, oh boy, i get to design more merfolk characters! but also, OH NO, I HAVE TO DESIGN MORE MERFOLK CHARACTERS.
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Nothing like doing my first major original research paper, and realizing, that no. I don’t want to do this long term. Research is fun but goddamn has this been stressful. At least I have answered the question of if I want to do a PhD program. The answer is a resounding fuck no.
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gaydogmarriage · 3 months
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tighnari fans stop posting pictures of neglected/irresponsibly kept exotic pets because they remind you of your blorbo challenge
#fennec foxes are cute yes but they are also terrible pets#its bad for you and for the fox#ultimately theyre wild animals and there are things you just cant train into or out of them#and they have a very specific set of care needs including their diet and vet care that are pretty much impossible to meet#unless you can literally run a private zoo i guess#not to mention the whole having to be taken away from their parents way too early to be hand raised by humans thing#please be more skeptical about the welfare and safety of a completely undomesticated wild canine kept in someone's living room#like im no expert on this shit but its very clearly heavily questionable at least#just because you can find websites saying that fennec foxes 'aren't for everyone' doesn't mean people are informed enough about the needs o#this animal and responsible about keeping them. it is far more likely that any pet fox you see on social media is not in fact#being kept in adequate conditions#if people want the animal they will convince themselves that 'not for everyone' doesn't apply to them and overestimate themselves#you should always be skeptical about wild animals in captivity. even those kept by people who claim they've done their research#obviously don't fall for the idea that animals have to be broken out of zoos for their 'freedom' or whatever#just yknow. consider the animal beyond how cute it is. they are living creatures. not just fun internet images#also tighnari would fucking tear you a new one for this his whole job revolves around protecting wildlife from ignorant ppl and vice versa
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itsnotalemon · 1 year
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Try not to drop out of college challenge
#i have cried so much today because i just keep getting burnt out to the point where i can no longer take care of myself because of college#i was ready to give next semester a shot but now i literally have to take even more classes#i feel stupid here#literally the only reason im going to keep trying is because then ill live in the same city as my partner#they have helped me through so much just by getting me out of my dorm and putting me to work outside#shes the reason ive probably made it so far into this semester#maybe im just a dumb fucking young adult but there is no way working a job and paying bills could be worse than this#like#cuz im going into major fucking debt for this STUPID fucking private school#and most of the shit im learning about i literally do not fucking care about#im not creating art#and while granted. the shit im learning is beneficial for my art#I FUCKING HATE THE ART IM MAKING HERE#im fucking broke all the time#i dont have enough free time or mental stability because of my school to handle having a job whole learning#but when im not at school and i can work literally everything is fucking fine#i love my job#i love where i live#i fucking hate the people where im from but who cares i literally dont talk to anyone#AND THATS THE OTHER THING#I FUCKING HATE THE MAJORITY OF MY PEERS HERE#I LITERALLY ONLY GET ALONG WITH THE UPPER CLASSMEN AND I HAVE HARDLY ANY CLASSES WITH UPPER CLASSMEN CUZ GUESS FUCKING WHAT!!!!#IM IN SOME BAUHAUS FUCKING ASS SCHOOL AND ALL THIS SHIT IS IS FOUNDATION EDUCATION ABOUT ART AND FUCK ALL ABOJT WHAT YOU REALLY WANNA LEARN#fuck this school bro#im so tired#i really need to go to my class tomorrow but i dont know if i can mentally handle it#i just wanna go home#i miss living a hop skip and a jump from the woods#i miss my car too#vent
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bisexualpackrat · 1 year
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samwisefamgee · 2 years
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finally got a second heater and it doesn’t work 🙃
#it’s fine it’s just below 50 degrees inside#not like that wasn’t most of last winter anyway but#man I was hoping to not have to deal with this#and this is like the fourth time in two weeks I thought it was done. FULLY taken care of#just to have circumstance or SOMEONE I KNOW fuck me over. fuck ME over!!!! I’M ALREADY FUCKED OVER!!!! 24 fucking 7!!!! fuck someone else!#I’m ace anyway 😡#I’m just so exhausted it’s like Murphys’ law has seeped into every single aspect of my life from personal private or social to familial#like it’s just all been so bad lately#but despite all the many ways my life has been pretty literally crumbling away or apart#right now the worst thing was expecting#again#to be able to get out of bed not shivering or walk in from outside and be comfortable#and having it wrenched away at the last second. again. rough stuff bro#‘Sam get a job’ my companion in christ I live in a rotting box and every time I try to make it better something else get so much worse#I cannot get a job if I’m just barely surviving but thanks#and MAYBE if I didn’t have to move out so I wouldn’t kms I may have a job 🤷 so maaaybe don’t tell me to get once since I’m here cause of YOU#it’s fine I’m fine with it#I’m not vagueing it’s not personal I’m fine#😒😞#all I’m saying is if 13 year old Sam could see what 23 year old Sam looks like and lives like he def woulda just killer himself#like it was bad then and I thought I’d be good now but MAN#MAN COULD THAT NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG BUD. pretty much been a straight downward slope since#holdin out wasn’t worth it so far man. maybe we’ll get lucky with a few more years of agony and suffering tho 🤷#killer himself ffs good thing this is a shitty cringe vent post
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mikkeneko · 25 days
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That post about Marcille and Laios' relationship actually got me thinking about Chilchuck and Laios' relationship. Which is harder to see in some ways because it mostly consists of positive absences.
At first, viewers might be inclined to wonder why Chilchuck sticks with the party. He says it's because he took payment up front, but he could give back part of the deposit and leave. Two other party members left; Laios explicitly gave Marcille and Chilchuck a choice as to whether they would stay or go, and they both chose to stay.
We know why Marcille chose to stay; she wants to save Falin and she considers the other party members her friends. Why did Chilchuck stay?
Chilchuck actually respects Laios a lot -- food and monster weirdness aside -- and that mostly comes I think through the positive absences from above. The things that Laios does not do.
Laios doesn't deliberately expose Chilchuck to danger or regard him as expendable. When Chilchuck starts to get enthralled by the sirens' song, Laios immediately snaps him out of it. Contrast that to Chilchuck relating that other adventuring parties will sometimes bring half-foots along just to sacrifice them or use them as bait!
Laios doesn't insist that Chilchuck put himself in danger by getting into combat. Even in situations where they're in danger and could really use more combatants, he only ever asks Chilchuck to take on non-combat tasks such as creating distractions.
Laios doesn't get in the way when Chilchuck is working and follows his directives of what to do around traps. He respects Chilchuck's work so much that he will even hand over his sword without hesitation, even when doing such a thing causes it to be damaged!
Laios doesn't press Chilchuck to divulge private information. When Chilchuck says he doesn't mix his professional and private lives, Laios respects that and doesn't push.
All the other party members infringe on these boundaries in some way. Izutsumi tries to egg Chilchuck into combat; Marcille pries into his home life; Senshi deliberately provokes him when he's trying to work. Not Laios. Once Chilchuck sets a boundary, Laios does his best to always respect it. (And I think Laios appreciates having clearly defined Rules For Chilchuck.)
Laios is a good party leader and he takes care of his team. Maybe this is my age showing, but when you find yourself in a good work situation with a good boss, you stay in that job.
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jmin · 3 months
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silencing someone on ig for so long and making the mistake of unsilencing because you think now it’s okay, now it’s better, and immediately being hit by some uncomfortable stories or posts is like that pink blob being punched back into the box meme. never again.
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sleepyjupz · 5 months
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i dont think i've (intentionally) spoken on this tumblr in a bit and i, like basically everyone else, am so so tired and so so sad
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peachesofteal · 27 days
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Ghoap x female reader / 18+
Everything was fine.
Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.
Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.
You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.
You weren’t a part of their life, really.
You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.
For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.
But most of all, they made sure-
you understood the status quo.
“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.
“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”
“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”
So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.
It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.
They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
And it was all… fine.
Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.
So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.
They always did.
You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.
No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.
Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.
You shoved the boys from your mind.
You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.
You’re fine.
“So how’s work?”
“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.
Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.
It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.
“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.
“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.
You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.
You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.
It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-
Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.
His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.
You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.
The room spins.
And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.
You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-
Cool.
“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-
You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.
“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.
“Bonnie, ye-“
“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.
Very uncool.
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too-deviant · 21 days
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strategic manoeuvre.
— WITH…ART DONALDSON!
contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios
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You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 
You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 
But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 
You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 
Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 
It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 
You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 
“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 
Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 
(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).
It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 
“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”
We she’d said. As in her and Art. 
You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 
From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 
The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 
It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 
You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 
You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 
He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 
But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 
But.
But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 
You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 
But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 
The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.
(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).
But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 
In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 
You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 
Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”
He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”
“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 
He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”
You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 
Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  
The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 
Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 
“Lily likes you.”
You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 
“Tashi likes you.” 
You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 
“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”
“What?”
“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 
“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 
“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 
“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 
He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 
The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 
But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 
“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”
Out of all the things… 
“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 
“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”
“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 
He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 
“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”
“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 
He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 
You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 
“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 
Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”
Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”
He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 
You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 
His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 
When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 
You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 
Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 
You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 
Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 
“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 
(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).
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divider by @cafekitsune !!
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evasive-anon · 4 months
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
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Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
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Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
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Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
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Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
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Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
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secretmellowblog · 11 months
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On the subject of the Titanic ‘submersible’ that was lost in the deep with all its wealthy tourists— it’s so insane/eerie in hindsight to read this article from the Smithsonian that interviews the CEO Stockton Rush long before the disaster.
Despite the Smithsonian supposedly being an organization that cares about science and truth, and the fact that there were SO MANY obvious red flags from the beginning and so many people criticizing the company…..the article is a puff piece uncritically glorifying the CEO’s obviously terrible submersible project. It compares him in glowing terms to Elon Musk. It is an article about how private ventures like those of Stockton Rush and Elon Musk can and should be the future of the world.
We’ve obviously learned now that there were whistleblowers at the company who were warning for a long time that Stockton Rush’s submersible was unsafe— only to be fired and then sued. It makes sense the submersible was so unsafe, because the CEO in this interview is open about how he has no background in underwater engineering and is annoyed by quote “regulations that needlessly prioritize passenger safety.”
Soon after, the private [submersible] market died too, Rush found, for two reasons that were “understandable but illogical.” First, subs gained a reputation for danger. Working on offshore rigs in harsh locations like the North Sea, saturation divers, who breathe gas mixtures to avoid diving sicknesses, would be taken in subs to work at great depths. It was the world’s most perilous job, with frequent fatalities. (“It wasn’t the sub’s fault,” says Rush.) To save lives, the industries moved toward using underwater robots to perform the same work.
Second, tourist subs, which could once be skippered by anyone with a U.S. Coast Guard captain’s license, were regulated by the Passenger Vessel Safety Act of 1993, which imposed rigorous new manufacturing and inspection requirements and prohibited dives below 150 feet. The law was well-meaning, Rush says, but he believes it needlessly prioritized passenger safety over commercial innovation (a position a less adventurous submariner might find open to debate). “There hasn’t been an injury in the commercial sub industry in over 35 years. It’s obscenely safe, because they have all these regulations. But it also hasn’t innovated or grown—because they have all these regulations.”
The fact that Stockton Rush (who was piloting the submarine when the disaster happened) is on record complaining about the evils of regulations that prioritize people’s safety, and the Smithsonian uncritically regurgitated that rhetoric in their glowing puff piece about how rich tycoons like Elon Musk and Stockton Rush are going to save the world is just…..in hindsight of how everything ended it’s just so much horrible black comedy? It’s like a satire about the dangers of uncritically worshipping the rich.
It is mentioned in the article that Rush chose to make his submersible in a different shape, and with a different (cheaper) material than is usually used for submersibles. The article frames this as a result of daring innovation, and not of negligence/ignorance. This passage in particular, which in context is supposed to portray Rush’s critics as joyless naysayers who were proven wrong by the noble tycoon, is pretty foreboding in hindsight:
Rush planned to pilot the sub himself, which critics said was an unnecessary risk: Under pressure, the experimental carbon fiber hull might, in the jargon of the sub world, “collapse catastrophically.”
And then!!
The exact problem that happened to Titan this weekend, happened on Titan’s very first test voyage to the Titanic! The experimental carbon fiber hull had an issue and it caused communications to break down!
The dive was going according to plan until about 10,000 feet, when the descent unexpectedly halted, possibly, Rush says, because the density of the salt water added extra buoyancy to the carbon fiber hull. He now used thrusters to drive Titan deeper, which interfered with the communications system, and he lost contact with the support crew. He recalls the next hour in hallucinogenic terms. “It was like being on the Starship Enterprise,” he says. “There were these particles going by, like stars. Every so often a jellyfish would go whipping by. It was the childhood dream.”
Both Rush and the article writer treat this as a fun quirky story, instead of a serious safety failure and red flag with his experimental macgyvered regulation-flaunting submersible.
Other highlights from the article include:
Stockton rush saying that if 3/4 of the planet is water, why haven’t we monetized it?
Stockton saying we will “colonize the ocean long before we colonize space”
Lots of weird pro colonialism stuff in general??? This article loves colonialism and thinks it’s cool
Rush saying he plans for this to eventually help find more underwater resources for the US to exploit and profit from
Elon musk comparisons. The article writer does not mention that Elon Musk’s rockets explode and therefore it would be a bad idea to get in one of them, because that would imply it’s a bad idea to get into the submersible
Stockton rush seeing himself as Captain Kirk
The article writer comparing the tourists who plan to join Rush to Englishmen who went on colonialist journeys to Africa as if that’s like, a good thing. So much pro colonialism stuff in this article
So many sentences about Stockton Rush being handsome when he literally just looks like some guy
The article beginning with an editor’s note from years later disclaiming that the extraordinary submersible they’re advertising in this article is uh. It’s now uhhhh
But yeah it really does just bring home how so many organizations that supposedly care about scientific truth or journalistic integrity are willing to uncritically platform propaganda for wealthy CEOS. It’s frustrating how easily people fall for the fake myths that careless wealthy people invent for themselves, and even more frustrating that supposedly respectable institutions will platform irresponsible lies that end up getting people killed.
Rush is such an obvious and simple example of this, and his negligence is “only” killing five people including himself. But to me it feels like a cautionary tale to bear in mind when it comes to uncritical puff piece media coverage of similar “daring tycoon innovations” by people like Bezos or Musk.
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