#but he was a big amplifying voice in it and legitimizing it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yobaba30 · 3 years ago

Text

Stolen from Twitter

I owe my Trump-supporting friends an apology. I’ve been critical of the Trump presidency these last four years, and am still exhausted from the experience. But to be fair, President Trump wasn’t that bad, other than when he incited an insurrection against the government, mismanaged a pandemic that killed nearly half a million Americans, separated children from their families, lost those children in the bureaucracy, tear-gassed peaceful protesters on Lafayette Square so he could hold a photo op holding a Bible in front of a church, tried to block all Muslims from entering the country, got impeached, got impeached again, had the worst jobs record of any president in modern history, pressured Ukraine to dig dirt on Joe Biden, fired the FBI director for investigating his ties to Russia, bragged about firing the FBI director on TV, took Vladimir Putin’s word over the US intelligence community, diverted military funding to build his wall, caused the longest government shutdown in US history, called Black Lives Matter a “symbol of hate,” lied nearly 30,000 times, banned transgender people from serving in the military, ejected reporters from the White House briefing room who asked tough questions, vetoed the defense funding bill because it renamed military bases named for Confederate soldiers, refused to release his tax returns, increased the national debt by nearly $8 trillion, had three of the highest annual trade deficits in U.S. history, called veterans and soldiers who died in combat losers and suckers, coddled the leader of Saudi Arabia after he ordered the execution and dismembering of a US-based journalist, refused to concede the 2020 election, hired his unqualified daughter and son-in-law to work in the White House, walked out of an interview with Lesley Stahl, called neo-Nazis “very fine people,” suggested that people should inject bleach into their bodies to fight COVID, abandoned our allies the Kurds to Turkey, pushed through massive tax cuts for the wealthiest but balked at helping working Americans, incited anti-lockdown protestors in several states at the height of the pandemic, withdrew the US from the Paris climate accords, withdrew the US from the Iranian nuclear deal, withdrew withdrew the US from the Trans Pacific Partnership which was designed to block China’s advances, insulted his own Cabinet members on Twitter, pushed the leader of Montenegro out of the way during a photo op, failed to reiterate US commitment to defending NATO allies, called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries, called the city of Baltimore the “worst in the nation,” claimed that he single handedly brought back the phrase “Merry Christmas” even though it hadn’t gone anywhere, forced his Cabinet members to praise him publicly like some cult leader believed he should be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, berated and belittled his hand-picked Attorney General when he recused himself from the Russia probe, suggested the US should buy Greenland, colluded with Mitch McConnell to push through federal judges and two Supreme Court justices after supporting efforts to prevent his predecessor from appointing judges, repeatedly called the media “enemies of the people,” claimed that if we tested fewer people for COVID we’d have fewer cases, violated the emoluments clause, thought that Nambia was a country, told Bob Woodward in private that the coronavirus was a big deal but then downplayed it in public, called his exceedingly faithful vice president a “p---y” for following the Constitution, nearly got us into a war with Iran after threatening them by tweet, nominated a corrupt head the EPA, nominated a corrupt head of HHS, nominated a corrupt head of the Interior Department, nominated a corrupt head of the USDA, praised dictators and authoritarians around the world while criticizing allies, refused to allow the presidential transition to begin, insulted war hero John McCain – even after his death, spent an obscene amount of time playing golf after criticizing Barack Obama for playing (far less) golf while president, falsely claimed that he won the 2016 popular vote, called the Muslim mayor of London a “stone cold loser,” falsely claimed that he won the 2016 popular vote, called the Muslim mayor of London a “stone cold loser,” falsely claimed that he turned down being Time’s Man of the Year, considered firing special counsel Robert Mueller on several occasions, mocked wearing face masks to guard against transmitting COVID, locked Congress out of its constitutional duty to confirm Cabinet officials by hiring acting ones, used a racist dog whistle by calling COVID the “China virus,” hired and associated with numerous shady figures that were eventually convicted of federal offenses including his campaign manager and national security adviser, pardoned several of his shady associates, gave the Presidential Medal of Freedom to two congressman who amplified his batshit crazy conspiracy theories, got into telephone fight with the leader of Australia(!), had a Secretary of State who called him a moron, forced his press secretary to claim without merit that his was the largest inauguration crowd in history, botched the COVID vaccine rollout, tweeted so much dangerous propaganda that Twitter eventually banned him, charged the Secret Service jacked-up rates at his properties, constantly interrupted Joe Biden in their first presidential debate, claimed that COVID would ��magically” disappear, called a U.S. Senator “Pocahontas,” used his Twitter account to blast Nordstrom when it stopped selling Ivanka’s merchandise, opened up millions of pristine federal lands to development and drilling, got into a losing tariff war with China that forced US taxpayers to bail out farmers, claimed that his losing tariff war was a win for the US, ignored or didn’t even take part in daily intelligence briefings, blew off honoring American war dead in France because it was raining, redesigned Air Force One to look like the Trump Shuttle, got played by Kim Jung Un and his “love letters,” threatened to go after social media companies in clear violation of the Constitution, botched the response to Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, threw paper towels at Puerto Ricans when he finally visited them, pressured the governor and secretary of state of Part 2 cont… Georgia to “find” him votes, thought that the Virgin islands had a President, drew on a map with a Sharpie to justify his inaccurate tweet that Alabama was threatened by a hurricane, allowed White House staff to use personal email accounts for official businesses after blasting Hillary Clinton for doing the same thing, rolled back regulations that protected the public from mercury and asbestos, pushed regulators to waste time studying snake-oil remedies for COVID, rolled back regulations that stopped coal companies from dumping waste into rivers held blatant campaign rallies at the White House, tried to take away millions of Americans’ health insurance because the law was named for a Black man, refused to attend his successors’ inauguration, nominated the worst Education Secretary in history threatened judges who didn’t do what he wanted, attacked Dr. Anthony Fauci, promised that Mexico would pay for the wall (it didn’t), allowed political hacks to overrule government scientists on major reports on climate change and other issues, struggled navigating a ramp after claiming his opponent was feeble, called an African-American Congresswoman “low IQ,” threatened to withhold federal aid from states and cities with Democratic leaders, went ahead with rallies filled with maskless supporters in the middle of a pandemic, claimed that legitimate investigations of his wrongdoing were “witch hunts,” seemed to demonstrate a belief that there were airports during the American Revolution, demanded “total loyalty” from the FBI director, praised a conspiracy theory that Democrats are Satanic pedophiles, completely gutted the Voice of America, placed a political hack in charge of the Postal Service, claimed without evidence that the Obama administration bugged Trump Tower, suggested that the US should allow more people from places like Norway into the country, suggested that COVID wasn’t that bad because he recovered with the help of top government doctors and treatments not available to the public, overturned energy conservation standards that even industry supported, reduced the number of refugees the US accepts, insulted various members of Congress and the media with infantile nicknames, gave Rush Limbaugh a Presidential medal of Freedom at the State of the Union address, named as head of federal personnel a 29-year old who’d previously been fired from the White House for allegations of financial improprieties, eliminated the White House office of pandemic respon used soldiers as campaign props, fired any advisor who made the mistake of disagreeing with him, demanded the Pentagon throw him a Soviet-style military parade, hired a shit ton of white nationalists, politicized the civil service, did absolutely nothing after Russia hacked US falsely said the Boy Scouts called him to say his bizarre Jamboree speech was the best speech ever given to the Scouts, claimed that Black people would overrun the suburbs if Biden won, insulted reporters of color, insulted women reporters, insulted women reporters of color, suggested he was fine with China’s oppression of the Uighurs, attacked the Supreme Court when it ruled against him, summoned Pennsylvania state legislative leaders to the White House to pressure them to overturn the election, spent countless hours every day watching Fox News, refused to allow his administration to comply with Congressional subpoenas, hired Rudy Giuliani as his lawyer, tried to punish Amazon because the Jeff Bezos-owned Washington Post wrote negative stories about him, acted as if the Attorney General of the United States was his personal attorney, attempted to get the federal government to defend him in a libel lawsuit from a women who accused him of sexual assault, held private meetings with Vladimir Putin without staff present, didn’t disclose his private meetings with Vladimir Putin so that the US had to find out via Russian media, stopped holding press briefings for months at a time, “ordered” US companies to leave China even though he has no such power, led a political party that couldn’t even be bothered to draft a policy platform, claimed preposterously that Article II of the Constitution gave him absolute powers, tried to pressure the U.K. to hold the British Open at his golf course, suggested that the government nuke hurricanes, suggested that wind turbines cause cancer, said that he had a special aptitude for science, fired the head of election cyber security after he said that the 2020 election was secure, blurted out classified information to Russian officials, tried to force the G7 to hold their meeting at his failing golf resort in Florida, fired the acting attorney general when she refused to go along with his unconstitutional Muslim travel ban, hired Stephen Miller, openly discussed national security issues in the dining room at Mar-a-Lago where everyone could hear them, interfered with plans to relocate the FBI because a new development there might compete with his hotel, abandoned Iraqi refugees who’d helped the U.S. during the war, tried to get Russia back into the G7, held a COVID super spreader event in the Rose Garden, seemed to believe that Frederick Douglass is still alive, lost 60 election fraud cases in court including before judges he had nominated, falsely claimed that factories were reopening when they weren’t, shamelessly exploited terror attacks in Europe to justify his anti-immigrant policies, still hasn’t come up with a healthcare plan, still hasn’t come up with an infrastructure plan despite repeated “Infrastructure,” forced Secret Service agents to drive him around Walter Reed while contagious with COVID, told the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by,” fucked up the Census, withdrew the U.S. from the World Health Organization in the middle of a pandemic did so few of his duties that his press staff were forced to state on his daily schedule “President Trump will work from early in the morning until late in the evening. He will make many calls and have many meetings,” allowed his staff to repeatedly violate the Hatch Act, Part 3 continues… seemed not to know that Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, stood before sacred CIA wall of heroes and bragged about his election win, constantly claimed he was treated worse than any president which presumably includes four that were assassinated and his predecessor whose legitimacy and birthplace were challenged by a racist reality TV show star named Donald Trump, claimed Andrew Jackson could’ve stopped the Civil War even though he died 16 years before it happened, said that any opinion poll showing him behind was fake, claimed that other countries laughed at us before he became president when several world leaders were literally laughing at him, claimed that the military was out of ammunition before he became President, created a commission to whitewash American history, retweeted anti-Islam videos from one of the most racist people in Britain, claimed ludicrously that the Pulse nightclub shooting wouldn’t have happened if someone there had a gun even though there was an armed security guard there, hired a senior staffer who cited the non-existent Bowling Green Massacre as a reason to ban Muslims, had a press secretary who claimed that Nazi Germany never used chemical weapons even though every sane human being knows they used gas to kill millions of Jews and others, bilked the Secret Service for higher than market rates when they had to stay at Trump properties, apparently sold pardons on his way out of the White House, stripped protective status from 59,000 Haitians, falsely claimed Biden wanted to defund the police, said that the head of the CDC didn’t know what he was talking about, tried to rescind protection from DREAMers, gave himself an A+ for his handling of the pandemic, tried to start a boycott of Goodyear tires due to an Internet hoax, said U.S. rates of COVID would be lower if you didn’t count blue states, deported U.S. veterans who served their country but were undocumented, claimed he did more for African Americans than any president since Lincoln, touted a “super-duper” secret “hydrosonic” missile which may or may not be a new “hypersonic” missile or may not exist at all, retweeted a gif calling Biden a pedophile, forced through security clearances for his family, suggested that police officers should rough up suspects, suggested that Biden was on performance-enhancing drugs, tried to stop transgender students from being able to use school bathrooms in line with their gender, suggested the US not accept COVID patients from a cruise ship because it would make US numbers look higher, nominated a climate change sceptic to chair the committee advising the White House on environmental policy, retweeted a video doctored to look like Biden had played a song called “Fuck tha Police” at a campaign event, hugged a disturbingly large number of U.S. flags, accused Democrats of “treason” for not applauding his State of the Union address, claimed that the FBI failed to capture the Parkland school shooter because they were “spending too much time” on Russia, mocked the testimony of Dr Christine Blasey Ford when she accused Brett Kavanaugh of sexual assault, obsessed over low-flow toilets, ordered the rerelease of more COVID vaccines when there weren’t any to release, called for the construction of a bizarre garden of heroes with statutes of famous dead Americans as well as at least one Canadian (Alex Trebek), hijacked Washington’s July 4th celebrations to give a partisan speech, took advice from the MyPillow guy, claimed that migrants seeking a better life in the US were dangerous caravans of drug dealers and rapists, said nothing when Vladimir Putin poisoned a leading opposition, never seemed to heed the advice of his wife’s “Be Best” campaign, falsely claimed that mail-in voting is fraudulent, announced a precipitous withdrawal of troops from Syria which not only handed Russia and ISIS a win but also prompted his defense secretary to resign in protest, insulted the leader of Canada, insulted the leader of France, insulted the leader of Britain, insulted the leader of Germany, insulted the leader of Sweden (Sweden!!), falsely claimed credit for getting NATO members to increase their share of dues, blew off two Asia summits even though they were held virtually, continued lying about spending lots of time at Ground Zero with 9/11 responders, said that the Japanese would sit back and watch their “Sony televisions” if the US were ever attacked, left a NATO summit early in a huff, stared directly into an eclipse even though everyone over the age of 5 knows not to do that, called himself a very stable genius despite significant evidence to the contrary, refused to commit to a peaceful transfer of power and kept his promise, and a whole bunch of other things I can’t remember at the moment. But other than that. . . Please share. This is how history books will read, because these are PROVABLE FACTS! Truth

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bigmacdaddio · 4 years ago

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Trump

Trump will never be forgotten because he incited an insurrection against the government, mismanaged a pandemic that killed over half a million Americans, separated children from their families, lost those children in the bureaucracy, tear-gassed peaceful protesters on Lafayette Square so he could hold a photo op holding a Bible in front of a church, tried to block all Muslims from entering the country, got impeached, got impeached again, had the worst jobs record of any president in modern history, pressured Ukraine to dig up dirt on Joe Biden, fired the FBI director for investigating his ties to Russia, bragged about firing the FBI director on TV, took Vladimir Putin’s word over the US intelligence community, diverted military funding to build his wall, caused the longest government shutdown in US history, called Black Lives Matter a “symbol of hate,” lied nearly 30,000 times, banned transgender people from serving in the military, ejected reporters from the White House briefing room who asked tough questions, vetoed the defense funding bill because it renamed military bases named for Confederate soldiers, refused to release his tax returns, increased the national debt by nearly $8 trillion, had three of the highest annual trade deficits in U.S. history, called veterans and soldiers who died in combat losers and suckers, coddled the leader of Saudi Arabia after he ordered the execution and dismembering of a US-based journalist, refused to concede the 2020 election, hired his unqualified daughter and son-in-law to work in the White House, walked out of an interview with Lesley Stahl, called neo-Nazis “very fine people,” suggested that people should inject bleach or disinfectant into their bodies to fight COVID, abandoned our allies the Kurds to Turkey, pushed through massive tax cuts for the wealthiest but balked at helping working Americans, incited anti-lockdown protestors in several states at the height of the pandemic, withdrew the US from the Paris climate accords, withdrew the US from the Iranian nuclear deal, withdrew the US from the Trans Pacific Partnership which was designed to block China’s advances, insulted his own Cabinet members on Twitter, pushed the leader of Montenegro out of the way during a photo op, failed to reiterate US commitment to defending NATO allies, called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries, called the city of Baltimore the “worst in the nation,” claimed that he single handedly brought back the phrase “Merry Christmas” even though it hadn’t gone anywhere, forced his Cabinet members to praise him publicly like some cult leader, believed he should be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, berated and belittled his hand-picked Attorney General when he recused himself from the Russia probe, suggested the US should buy Greenland, colluded with Mitch McConnell to push through federal judges and two Supreme Court justices after supporting efforts to prevent his predecessor from appointing judges, repeatedly called the media “enemies of the people,” claimed that if we tested fewer people for COVID we’d have fewer cases, violated the emoluments clause, thought that Nambia was a country, told Bob Woodward in private that the coronavirus was a big deal but then downplayed it in public, called his exceedingly faithful vice president a “p---y” for following the Constitution, nearly got us into a war with Iran after threatening them by tweet, nominated a corrupt head of the EPA, nominated a corrupt head of HHS, nominated a corrupt head of the Interior Department, nominated a corrupt head of the USDA, praised dictators and authoritarians around the world while criticizing allies, refused to allow the presidential transition to begin, insulted war hero John McCain – even after his death, spent an obscene amount of time playing golf after criticizing Barack Obama for playing (far less) golf while president, falsely claimed that he won the 2016 popular vote, called the Muslim mayor of London a “stone cold loser,” falsely claimed that he turned down being Time’s Man of the Year, considered firing special counsel Robert Mueller on several occasions, mocked wearing face masks to guard against transmitting COVID, locked Congress out of its constitutional duty to confirm Cabinet officials by hiring acting ones, used a racist dog whistle by calling COVID the “China virus,” hired and associated with numerous shady figures that were eventually convicted of federal offenses including his campaign manager and national security adviser, pardoned several of his shady associates, gave the Presidential Medal of Freedom to two congressman who amplified his batshit crazy conspiracy theories, got into telephone fight with the leader of Australia(!), had a Secretary of State who called him a moron, forced his press secretary to claim without merit that his was the largest inauguration crowd in history, botched the COVID vaccine rollout, tweeted so much dangerous propaganda that Twitter eventually banned him, charged the Secret Service jacked-up rates at his properties, constantly interrupted Joe Biden in their first presidential debate, claimed that COVID would “magically” disappear, called a U.S. Senator “Pocahontas,” used his Twitter account to blast Nordstrom when it stopped selling Ivanka’s merchandise, opened up millions of pristine federal lands to development and drilling, got into a losing tariff war with China that forced US taxpayers to bail out farmers, claimed that his losing tariff war was a win for the US, ignored or didn’t even take part in daily intelligence briefings, blew off honoring American war dead in France because it was raining, redesigned Air Force One to look like the Trump Shuttle, got played by Kim Jung Un and his “love letters,” threatened to go after social media companies in clear violation of the Constitution, botched the response to Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, threw paper towels at Puerto Ricans when he finally visited them, pressured the governor and secretary of state of Georgia to “find” him votes, thought that the Virgin islands had a President, drew on a map with a Sharpie to justify his inaccurate tweet that Alabama was threatened by a hurricane, allowed White House staff to use personal email accounts for official businesses after blasting Hillary Clinton for doing the same thing, rolled back regulations that protected the public from mercury and asbestos, pushed regulators to waste time studying snake-oil remedies for COVID, rolled back regulations that stopped coal companies from dumping waste into rivers, held blatant campaign rallies at the White House, tried to take away millions of Americans’ health insurance because the law was named for a Black man, refused to attend his successors’ inauguration, nominated the worst Education Secretary in history, threatened judges who didn’t do what he wanted, attacked Dr. Anthony Fauci, promised that Mexico would pay for the wall (it didn’t), allowed political hacks to overrule government scientists on major reports on climate change and other issues, struggled navigating a ramp after claiming his opponent was feeble, called an African-American Congresswoman “low IQ,” threatened to withhold federal aid from states and cities with Democratic leaders, went ahead with rallies filled with maskless supporters in the middle of a pandemic, claimed that legitimate investigations of his wrongdoing were “witch hunts,” seemed to demonstrate a belief that there were airports during the American Revolution, demanded “total loyalty” from the FBI director, praised a conspiracy theory that Democrats are Satanic pedophiles, completely gutted the Voice of America, placed a political hack in charge of the Postal Service, claimed without evidence that the Obama administration bugged Trump Tower, suggested that the US should allow more people from places like Norway into the country, suggested that COVID wasn’t that bad because he recovered with the help of top government doctors and treatments not available to the public, overturned energy conservation standards that even industry supported, reduced the number of refugees the US accepts, insulted various members of Congress and the media with infantile nicknames, gave Rush Limbaugh a Presidential medal of Freedom at the State of the Union address, named as head of federal personnel a 29-year old who’d previously been fired from the White House for allegations of financial improprieties, eliminated the White House office of pandemic response, used soldiers as campaign props, fired any advisor who made the mistake of disagreeing with him, demanded the Pentagon throw him a Soviet-style military parade, hired a shit ton of white nationalists, politicized the civil service, did absolutely nothing after Russia hacked the U.S. government, falsely said the Boy Scouts called him to say his bizarre Jamboree speech was the best speech ever given to the Scouts, claimed that Black people would overrun the suburbs if Biden won, insulted reporters of color, insulted women reporters, insulted women reporters of color, suggested he was fine with China’s oppression of the Uighurs, attacked the Supreme Court when it ruled against him, summoned Pennsylvania state legislative leaders to the White House to pressure them to overturn the election, spent countless hours every day watching Fox News, refused to allow his administration to comply with Congressional subpoenas, hired Rudy Giuliani as his lawyer, tried to punish Amazon because the Jeff Bezos-owned Washington Post wrote negative stories about him, acted as if the Attorney General of the United States was his personal attorney, attempted to get the federal government to defend him in a libel lawsuit from a women who accused him of sexual assault, held private meetings with Vladimir Putin without staff present, didn’t disclose his private meetings with Vladimir Putin so that the US had to find out via Russian media, stopped holding press briefings for months at a time, “ordered” US companies to leave China even though he has no such power, led a political party that couldn’t even be bothered to draft a policy platform, claimed preposterously that Article II of the Constitution gave him absolute powers, tried to pressure the U.K. to hold the British Open at his golf course, suggested that the government nuke hurricanes, suggested that wind turbines cause cancer, said that he had a special aptitude for science, fired the head of election cyber security after he said that the 2020 election was secure, blurted out classified information to Russian officials, tried to force the G7 to hold their meeting at his failing golf resort in Florida, fired the acting attorney general when she refused to go along with his unconstitutional Muslim travel ban, hired Stephen Miller, openly discussed national security issues in the dining room at Mar-a-Lago where everyone could hear them, interfered with plans to relocate the FBI because a new development there might compete with his hotel, abandoned Iraqi refugees who’d helped the U.S. during the war, tried to get Russia back into the G7, held a COVID super spreader event in the Rose Garden, seemed to believe that Frederick Douglass is still alive, lost 60 election fraud cases in court including before judges he had nominated, falsely claimed that factories were reopening when they weren’t, shamelessly exploited terror attacks in Europe to justify his anti-immigrant policies, still hasn’t come up with a healthcare plan, still hasn’t come up with an infrastructure plan despite repeated “Infrastructure Weeks,” forced Secret Service agents to drive him around Walter Reed while contagious with COVID, told the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by,” fu**ed up the Census, withdrew the U.S. from the World Health Organization in the middle of a pandemic, did so few of his duties that his press staff were forced to state on his daily schedule “President Trump will work from early in the morning until late in the evening. He will make many calls and have many meetings,” allowed his staff to repeatedly violate the Hatch Act, seemed not to know that Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, stood before sacred CIA wall of heroes and bragged about his election win, constantly claimed he was treated worse than any president which presumably includes four that were assassinated and his predecessor whose legitimacy and birthplace were challenged by a racist reality TV show star named Donald Trump, claimed Andrew Jackson could’ve stopped the Civil War even though he died 16 years before it happened, said that any opinion poll showing him behind was fake, claimed that other countries laughed at us before he became president when several world leaders were literally laughing at him, claimed that the military was out of ammunition before he became President, created a commission to whitewash American history, retweeted anti-Islam videos from one of the most racist people in Britain, claimed ludicrously that the Pulse nightclub shooting wouldn’t have happened if someone there had a gun even though there was an armed security guard there, hired a senior staffer who cited the non-existent Bowling Green Massacre as a reason to ban Muslims, had a press secretary who claimed that Nazi Germany never used chemical weapons even though every sane human being knows they used gas to kill millions of Jews and others, bilked the Secret Service for higher than market rates when they had to stay at Trump properties, apparently sold pardons on his way out of the White House, stripped protective status from 59,000 Haitians, falsely claimed Biden wanted to defund the police, said that the head of the CDC didn’t know what he was talking about, tried to rescind protection from DREAMers, gave himself an A+ for his handling of the pandemic, tried to start a boycott of Goodyear tires due to an Internet hoax, said U.S. rates of COVID would be lower if you didn’t count blue states, deported U.S. veterans who served their country but were undocumented, claimed he did more for African Americans than any president since Lincoln, touted a “super-duper” secret “hydrosonic” missile which may or may not be a new “hypersonic” missile or may not exist at all, retweeted a gif calling Biden a pedophile, forced through security clearances for his family, suggested that police officers should rough up suspects, suggested that Biden was on performance-enhancing drugs, tried to stop transgender students from being able to use school bathrooms in line with their gender, suggested the US not accept COVID patients from a cruise ship because it would make US numbers look higher, nominated a climate change sceptic to chair the committee advising the White House on environmental policy, retweeted a video doctored to look like Biden had played a song called “F**k tha Police” at a campaign event, hugged a disturbingly large number of U.S. flags, accused Democrats of “treason” for not applauding his State of the Union address, claimed that the FBI failed to capture the Parkland school shooter because they were “spending too much time” on Russia, mocked the testimony of Dr Christine Blasey Ford when she accused Brett Kavanaugh of sexual assault, obsessed over low-flow toilets, ordered the rerelease of more COVID vaccines when there weren’t any to release, called for the construction of a bizarre garden of heroes with statutes of famous dead Americans as well as at least one Canadian (Alex Trebek), hijacked Washington’s July 4th celebrations to give a partisan speech, took advice from the MyPillow guy, claimed that migrants seeking a better life in the US were dangerous caravans of drug dealers and rapists, said nothing when Vladimir Putin poisoned a leading opposition figure, never seemed to heed the advice of his wife’s “Be Best” campaign, falsely claimed that mail-in voting is fraudulent, announced a precipitous withdrawal of troops from Syria which not only handed Russia and ISIS a win but also prompted his defense secretary to resign in protest, insulted the leader of Canada, insulted the leader of France, insulted the leader of Britain, insulted the leader of Germany, insulted the leader of Sweden (Sweden!!), falsely claimed credit for getting NATO members to increase their share of dues, blew off two Asia summits even though they were held virtually, continued lying about spending lots of time at Ground Zero with 9/11 responders, said that the Japanese would sit back and watch their “Sony televisions” if the US were ever attacked, left a NATO summit early in a huff, stared directly into an eclipse even though everyone over the age of 5 knows not to do that, called himself a very stable genius despite significant evidence to the contrary, refused to commit to a peaceful transfer of power and keep his promise, and a whole bunch of other things I can’t remember at the moment.

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thebraingremlinsaremad · 3 years ago

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Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

Note

soft eddie prompt? you got it! sleepy eddie???? just sleepy eddie, i don’t care what u do but i just want sleepy tactile eddie and i want him to get all the love and appreciation he deserves

Anonymous said:

How about soft sleepy Eddie, early in a morning with Buddie and Christopher either still asleep or at a sleepover???

GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE YALL

please enjoy 1.5k of soft, sleepy, touch starved Eddie.

some things never sleep on AO3

Tuesdays, by far, were Buck’s favorite days.

Tuesdays were the magical days where Buck and Eddie were both off shift.

Tuesdays were the wonderful days where Chris had a late start at school.

Which meant, best of all, the best thing in the world—

Tuesdays were days that Buck and Eddie got to sleep in.

Buck had learned, very early in their relationship—before they had said the L word, before they had moved in together, and before Buck had the familiar weight of an engagement ring on his finger—that there were very few things that Eddie valued more than he and Christopher. And that made him all warm and fuzzy inside, sure.

But sleep… well, Buck was well aware that for Eddie, sleep was a close second.

Buck honestly had never had a relationship before where “sleeping together” actually meant falling asleep in a bed together and waking up together before it meant fucking, but that definitely wasn’t the only way that Eddie was a first for him. Honestly, though, Buck wouldn’t change it for the world.

He got to wake up every morning with Eddie, secure in his arms (and god, that had blown his mind, when Eddie had mentioned in a way that very much was not as subtle as Eddie had hoped, that if Buck ever wanted to be the big spoon, well, he would be okay with that).

Eddie liked being the little spoon. Who would have fucking thought it?

Buck knew himself pretty well—he knew that while he was a very, very physically affectionate person, it was unlikely that he was going to get that same amount of affection back in a relationship, especially in any of his relationships with men. And don’t get him wrong, he loved any skin on skin contact with Eddie, but not enough to risk jeopardizing their tentative friendship, or beginning of a relationship, with the amount of hugs and affection he preferred.

He should have known he didn’t have to worry about that—as soon as Eddie had deemed him a safe source of tired cuddling, he became the first person that Buck sought out when he was feeling even moderately tired, resting his head against the space in between Buck’s shoulder blades, using any part of him as a pillow, regardless of where they were or which teammates were watching.

(“Buck, no one's concerned about the cuddling.” Hen had told him one night, while Eddie was batting away at something in the gym with Chim, and he and Hen were tossing cards around on one of the collapsable tables. “Honestly, the only issue comes when you're both on different shifts. He turns into grumpy cat. It’s annoying.”

“You know who grumpy cat is?”

“That is not the point, Buck.”)

As much as Eddie loved sleep, Buck loved waking up even more. Waking up meant he got to press kisses against Eddie’s neck, got to tighten his arms around Eddie’s waist, got to witness first hand the half hour between sleep and full alertness where Eddie was… well, where he was adorable. Not that Buck would ever admit that.

No, he would take that secret to his grave.

When they had first gotten together, Buck had actually assumed that Eddie was a morning person. He was up with the sun, almost every morning. He could go from asleep to awake in a frighteningly short amount of time. He didn’t even need coffee to get his day going—he could literally just open his eyes and roll out of bed.

Buck thought, more or less, that Eddie was at least part android.

The first time things had changed was also the first time that Eddie had a nightmare while Buck was over, weirdly enough. One moment, Buck had been on his back, with Eddie curled up against his side, using his chest as a pillow while Buck flipped through the last few pages of his book, the next, Eddie was ramrod straight, his breathing tight and labored, body a weird combination of stiff and shivering.

Worse than the nightmare, though, was how Eddie acted when it was over. The flailing, okay, the initial shout, that was fine, but having Eddie crying? Telling Buck that it was okay for him to go, that he deserved someone less broken? Well, that was un fucking acceptable, and he made that point more than clear when he wrapped Eddie in his arms and dove back into bed.

(“You make me feel safe.” Eddie had confessed after his tear tracks had dried, lying on Buck’s chest, barely audible over the steady sound of the Santa Ana winds against the window. “I just… I feel safe when you hold me like this, when I’m in your arms.” Buck hadn’t responded—hadn’t needed to—he just tightened his hold on the other male, face buried in Eddie’s shorter hair.)

The next morning was the first time that Buck had ever woken up before Eddie, and he took extreme advantage of it—he kissed every inch of Eddie’s head and neck he could get to, he tightened his arms around Eddie’s middle, he made all sorts of adorable noises against Eddie’s mop of hair while sun spilled in through the window.

If Buck had known what he would be encouraging—nay, unleashing—he would have done this all so much sooner.

Buck was still, regularly, the first to wake up. And Eddie’s hair may have been shorter now, but that didn’t mean Buck couldn’t nuzzle into it whenever he woke up.

All of the other physical affection, though… that came from Eddie, even in sleep.

Eddie was a fucking koala.

It didn’t matter how they fell asleep—side by side, chest to chest, curled in with one another, hell, even when they were in separate bunks in the station—Buck almost always woke up with Eddie completely tangled up with him, wether it was just holding Buck’s arms with his own and looping their legs together, or finding himself completely wrapped up in Eddie’s limbs, nose buried in the hollow of Buck’s neck or the dip right in Buck’s collarbone.

The nights where they fell asleep chest to chest were the absolute worst, though; not because Buck didn’t like waking up with Eddie’s lips in kissing distance, because Eddie madE the saddest, sleepiest, little pouts when Buck tried to wake him up. It was nearly impossible to actually get to work on time when he had an Eddie in his arms that looked like he was about to cry if Buck actually wanted them to both join the land of the living.

Because worse than Eddie’s clingy fucking octopus tendencies—

(as if any of that was actually a bad thing)

—was that when it came to getting up, Eddie was a fucking child.

Like, a bigger child than Chris.

“Come on, Eds, we gotta get up.” Buck murmured, lips pressing along Eddie’s temple, settling right at the center of his forehead as Eddie let out a whine.

“I know, you big baby.” Buck tried again, with no heat in his voice, as Eddie let out a string of unintelligible curses and buried his face in Buck’s throat.

He tossed the blankets off of them, feeling Eddie grip around his waist even tighter, feeling oddly pleased with himself as Eddie groaned into his skin, finally working on real words. “Buck, noooo. It’s Tuesday. We sleep on Tuesdays.”

“I know we do, Eddie,” Buck started, finally working himself into a sitting position, Eddie melting down the front of his body until Buck’s lap became a pillow, Eddie’s arms easily wrapping around his middle.

Buck sighed as he rubbed along Eddie’s back, kissing his head as he leaned over and playfully swatted his flank, grinning at the surprised groan he got in response. “You gotta let me go so I can make breakfast. I’ll make your favorite waffles, but I gotta get started on them now.”

“You can’t leave, Buck, I’m your fiancé. That’s not fair. Fuck the waffles.”

Oh, it was a ‘fuck breakfast’ kind of morning.

“Eds—”

“I don’t want waffles, I just want you.”

Damn it, Buck knew he was going to regret it, but he had to look at Eddie’s face, the sad sounds only amplified by the image of Eddie rubbing his eyes, looking legitimately like he was about to cry.

Buck had fallen for that many, many times before. And he probably would fall for it many, many times in the future.

Finally cracking under pressure, Buck resorted to the big guns, his voice low and slow as he laced his arms beneath Eddie’s. He alternated between speaking and kissing where he could, pulling the other male into a sitting position, more or less in Buck’s lap. “Cmon, Eds. I’ll tell you what. Let’s get up, get Chris some breakfast, go for a nice walk along the greenbelt he loves, drop him off at school, and then we can spend the entire afternoon wrapped up with one another on the couch. You can take a nap, I’ll let you pass out on me, and I’ll order out for dinner so I don’t have to get up before Chris comes home with Carla.”

Buck really hated using Chris against Eddie like that, but it was the easiest way to get Eddie to pretend to be a functioning adult in the moments between sleep and a fully-oxygenated brain. He almost thought that he won their regular battle when Eddie finally leaned back against his chest with a happy sigh, tilting Buck’s head down for an easy, good morning kiss, eyes heavy and half lidded. And fuck, Eddie was always beautiful, but there was something about him in the early morning, soft and pliable and so loving that made Buck’s heart fucking ache, especially in the —where Eddie opened hs mouth and really just put the final nail in the coffin.

“I love you, Evan soon-to-be-Diaz.”

(It was another twenty minutes before they left the bed.

Buck had absolutely no regrets.)

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #soft eddie diaz #sleeping together #dreams and nightmares #bed sharing #they're in love your honor #911 #buddiefic #fluff #flospeaks #floresponds

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adrieunor · 4 years ago

Text

the one where they’re married (1/?)

Fandom: The Good Place Rating: T Pairing: Michael & Eleanor Shellstrop (pseudo-Michael/Eleanor)

amnesia, married-but-not, possibly dub-con bc identity issues but nothing explicit; implied Michael reboot or judge reboot Notes: found this thing hanging out in my WIP and I don’t even remember writing it. but I had fun reading through what’s here, so I thought I’d go ahead and throw it out into the world.

Story summary: It didn’t quite top the discovery of waking up in a hospital bed with potential brain damage, but Eleanor is quite sure of one thing. She’s willing to stake money on it, no matter how out of character or divergent he is from her history:

this man is her husband.

Which, great – wow, whoa and every other questionable w-sound.

Hadn’t thought you had it in you girl, Eleanor thinks.

******************

Eleanor wakes up.

Correction: Eleanor tries.

One moment, it’s the nothingness of unconsciousness and then the sudden clarity of what’s happening? Where am I?— except her body feels like it hasn’t caught up to this decision.

She feels heavy.

All of her feels heavy. From the bottom of her feet to the crown of her head, it feels like every atom of her person has suddenly gained ten extra ounces of new weight. Not enough to be a hardship, individually, but combined together—she’s drowning, suffocated by her own eyelids and the thick, still air that doesn’t give any hint to where she seems to be.

Her eyes feel heavy – the stupid gelatinous orbs feel like they’re suspended in concrete, while her lids struggle to flutter awake.

(It’s a stupid expression, anyway, because it’s more hippos doing ballet than graceful ostriches with large feathered fans prancing across the imaginary stage of her mind.)

Fuck.

It hurts.

It feels good to be able to give a resounding f-bomb in her mind. She doesn’t know why it feels good, just that it does—it shouldn’t, though, since Eleanor has been saying fuck and other double-dog-dare-you words since she was in secondhand velcro shoes. She says “fuck” more times on the daily than her own name, certainly more times than “please” or “thank you.”

Ten seconds of consciousness has her registering how rattled her bones feel. Someone has either taken her brain and expanded it to be too big for her skull, or taken her skull and fractured it, hot gluing the pieces back to fit her brain but accidentally leaving a few behind.

“Eleanor? Are you awake?”

Trying to be.

Even in her mind, the words she wants to respond with feel slurred, fumbled by a dull tongue that’s trying to unstick from the roof of her mouth.

She’s not sure if the keening sound is just bubbling frustration and pain she’s creating in her head, or if she’s really making it. Eleanor wants to open her mouth and let her sad, animal crying out, but it seems, between the last time she was awake and now, someone’s affixed her jaw with lead, super glue, and the caramel they use to cover those cheap, green apple pops.

Eleanor settles for a whimper.

It’s the trembling of her bottom lip that makes her realize something’s brushing against her face, threaded across her nose and mouth and affixed by sticky tape on her cheeks.

Dry fingertips, warm and calloused, brush over her temple. The stray, lanky hair that had been plastered to her forehead, tickling her brow and her nose, is brushed back and tucked behind her ears.

“Hold on,” the same person says, and something clicks or beeps beside her ear. She hadn’t thought of her wrists and hands yet, had only registered them being as weighed down as the rest of her. Now, she’s minutely aware of the tender clasp around her left wrist – a dry, warm steadiness that makes her joints ache painfully.

Eleanor wants to wiggle, wants to shake, wants to fucking jerk her arms and legs about until everything pops back into feeling, but she can’t. Something from inside must be conveyed outside, some twitch or snarl of frustration, because the warm hand gently turns her wrist. Unfamiliar (familiar) fingers slide and brush against her pulse before settling into a new position: her own hand cradled in a larger one, while a thumb that’s not hers gently strokes the tops of her knuckles.

The next sound feels like a land mine detonated in a pocket of silence. A heavy door opens with the force of five hundred hangovers, followed by heels clicking sharply and smartly against a linoleum floor. Rustling fabric, a pen clicking, a folder being dropped down onto a table surface all has her wincing, as if it’s been amplified right by her fucking ear.

Her companion does not let go of her hand, but he grips it until his thumb is a firm, anxious pressure that presses on the space between her ring finger and pinky.

“Is she in pain? She looks—“

Eleanor doesn’t catch the rest of it, but the voice has only picked up in volume, a little, harried but direct. Whatever answer the new body has, she doesn't hear it.

Amidst the skull-splitting pain that pulsates from her crown down to the rest of her, like a tree suddenly struck by lighting, she registers only one thing: a dry press of lips against her fingers, solemn and unbearably present sensation, before she’s swarmed by other voices and sounds.

******************

Eleanor is only catching every fifth word that is coming out of the woman’s mouth. The ice chips had alleviated the fuzziness on her tongue, but it hadn’t fixed what was wrong in her head.

Her head.

Words like damage, injury, sustained bleeding,

The wailing in her ears had subsided, a bit, since the last time she was awake. It was now a low, thrumming pitch in the back of her mind, like a loud fluorescent light bulb in an office space. She can ignore it, after a while, but it’s there.

Other things that are very much there and present: the man.

******************

Her eyes drift towards his hand, the one that’s not holding her own – long fingers woven loosely to catch her own, between the gauze and IV line – where it rests on his knee. She's not sure what the glimmer is, at first, until she realizes it's two gold bands on one hand, a comically smaller one slipped onto his pinky.

“Ah,” her eyes drift back up of their own accord to watch the way his brows furrow, mouth open in thought, “I thought it’d be better if I kept it, in case the tests and the machines…”

His mouth purses into a thin line, which only emphasizes the ones carved into the corners of his mouth and his eyes even more – he looks like the type that would frown a lot, Eleanor thinks. He seemed like the bookish-type that would have resting bitch face while deep in thought; a heavy oak desk with a tiffany lamp and a pen tipped in gold wouldn’t be out of place in a room with him, or a really fancy fucking wall of degrees and a sharp suit.

Her shameless eyes stray towards his thin lips, the defined line of his jaw, skipping back to the worn crinkles in his skin.

There’s a lot of something to him that seems to command the presence of whatever space he occupies. The corner he occupies wraps around him like a well-tailored jacket – even in his unassuming navy and pale blue.

Well, she revises her thoughts; he looked like he might laugh a lot, too. Eleanor bets he laughs with his mouth wide open, or smiles to show nearly all his teeth.

He wasn’t laughing now, of course. Given the circumstances.

******************

He is a man-shaped absence in her memory – she of the forgetful faces and even more forgetful names has seemingly forgotten her own husband, spouse, and partner-- legally bound tax accomplice, all of the above. Michael.

He’s got a face made for

He does a funny

Oh.

It didn’t quite top the discovery of waking up in a hospital bed with potential brain damage, but Eleanor is quite sure of one thing. She’s willing to stake money on it, no matter how out of character or divergent he is from her history:

this man is her husband.

Which, great – wow, whoa and every other questionable w-sound.

Hadn’t thought you had it in you girl, Eleanor thinks. She takes another second, ten, fifteen, a minute, to look appreciatively up and down.

******************

She’s not sure if the muscles in her face contort into the expression of surprise like the light bulb that’s gone off in her head – her jaw is still a little slack and her eyes are slow to blink. He might not have noticed, in between one second and the next, how utterly thrown off she is.

******************

It doesn’t look like a fake; Eleanor has seen a lot of fake gold jewelry in her time to know the difference. It’s beautiful in the way that all the ostentatious rings she would pick for herself would not be. She keeps turning her hand this way and that, until one of the nurses asks if she's having wrist pain.

Despite protests, a tall nurse with too much arm hair pushes her in a wheelchair towards the curb where a burgundy crossover idles.

“Hopefully we won’t see you too soon,” Gary, Gerry, Gerald – or whatever – his name is, says cheerfully. She squints up at him, and he falters. Eleanor supposes that one good thing about being brain damaged was she now had a legitimate reason to forget people’s names.

******************

The good news: if she had woken up too brain damaged to remember her own name, Michael would have fixed that problem easily—it would have been two minutes, tops. She’s pretty sure he says her name more than he uses any other noun or pronoun.

(Which, by the way, the fact that she still has a basic grasp of grammar makes her, again, want to keep track for curiosity’s sake what her loopy brain has decided to keep and discard. She’d stared at the red plastic dome on her hospital plate before, after a pronounced beat, Michael had reached across and pulled the foil top off of her gelatin.)

******************

It just sounds funny – something in her brain itches like a scab underneath a cast, present but unreachable. The way he says her name. It’s been her name for over three decades, so she knows what Eleanor sounds like, usually, coming out of other people’s mouths (when they’re coming, even!). Even knows what it sounds like sung in different accents, thanks to that fucking song.

(All the lonely people, where do they all belong?

Fuck. Her brain couldn’t have erased that?)

******************

It’s not the porch that surprises her; it’s the honest-to-god porch swing, pale wicker and decorated with springtime cushions. That throws her for a loop; breaks a little part of her brain that isn’t already struggling to function.

(“This…. This broke me.”)

(Something tickles her brain, there, too, but it’s gone.)

It’s a good porch, too. The kind that doesn’t fully wrap around the house, but gives enough room for someone to day drink and – ah, there it is, the little tea table that would be beside the—the ___________. She grasps for the word, shapeless and vague. It’s blurry in her head, the thing she’s thinking about also blurry and distant. Her mouth puckers in a frown.

Michael rolls the car to a commercial perfect stop. Eleanor still jerks in her seat. He unbuckles his seat belt and bounds around to her side, opening the door before she’s even lifted a hand to pop it.

“Here, let me-“

She wonders how often she’s let him do anything, in contrast to allowing him to – her hand moves to rest on the release of the seat belt, staking territory.

Her stomach does one, two, slow flops – a fat pancake turned by an amateur line cook.

******************

She doesn’t need an entire love story’s memory to make an easy conclusion, not when Michael’s eyes sweep across her face with a slow, longing softness while his mouth twitches, again, as if it has something to say he won’t let it:

Michael is in love with her.

Eleanor thinks this should be a good thing, if they’re married, but the conclusion settles uncomfortably on top of her chest – it doesn’t sink in, doesn’t settle into a slot of rightness, and she ignores the feeling of disappointment.

Stupid of her, honestly, to think this observation was all it would take to remember why Michael is in love with her. Or how Michael is in love with her.

(What Michael is in love with.)

******************

They have a cat. She doesn’t know why this is something that trips her up, but it does. She’d nearly tripped up on it, literally, when the thing had slunk up to rub itself against her legs, making figure eights around her legs and Michael’s. Michael had nearly stepped on its tail, foot stopping just before contact as if compelled by muscle memory or a glitch in the system.

“Oh,” he hisses, fumbling with the duffel bag, complementary hospital pillow (the socks she’d decided to “wear out” as she’d joked at the nurse, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth), and reusable water bottles, in his arms, “Vicky, stop.”

“Vicky?”

She hopes she hadn't been the one to name it. Vicky sounds like a bitchy girl name, and in Eleanor Shellstrop's book of past experiences she could confirm this. Twice.

Michael gives up on trying to carry everything into …wherever, instead dumping his load onto the love seat in an adjourning room.

Her fingers trail along the table in the entryway, eyes flickering up to give the large, round mirror at eye-level a glance before she’s turning away. She’s pale as a ghost in this strange grey-blue home.

There’s a kitchen island with real, actual stools that swivel plus a wooden dining table with upholstered chairs. She wants to hiss at how excessive it is – eating a bowl of cereal over a dirty sink was enough for her for years – but she bites her tongue. A voice in the back of her head asks if maybe she had picked some of these, had selected them herself. You don’t build a home for two from only one person’s purchases.

“What would you like first, Eleanor?” His expression is hopefulness strained through a sieve. He doesn’t seem to realize how he leans towards her, curves his entire, tall being to look down at her. “Anything you want, just- just let me know. If you’re hungry, I could fix us a snack before you’re due for your next round of meds.”

It should feel annoying and towering, claustrophobic, but instead, looking upwards at him, she feels watched. Seen. It’s an uncomfortable feeling for someone who has always depended on being able to grift just under the radar, but it also isn’t unpleasant.

His hands are pressed together, fingertips touching, long and lean, like prayer.

“Can I just lay down for a bit?”

Michael’s expression softens. “Of course, Eleanor.”

And he offers his hand, palm upturned, as if the hallway was some long, arduous passage instead of a short walk towards a few doors or a climb up the stairs. Eleanor’s hands are so small in his, but his fingers wrap around hers like old acquaintances—hers have forgotten the intricacies of where to go, his have not forgotten her shape and his thumb brushes, familiar, across her knuckles like hello.

It is a warm and dry hold, and what Eleanor has managed to scrape, glean, and covertly steal in her observations about Michael all lead to the conclusion that this is a good descriptor, the most basic, for Michael himself: warm and dry, like Arizona, but the postcard worthy-parts, not the dumpster fire, trash-bag parts that made her.

At the foot of the stairs he pauses, one hand on the rail, the other holding her hand lifted in the air like a debutante. Something flickers, for a moment, and Eleanor imagines a tall, dark woman in a gown and evening gloves, of all things, poised at the foot of the stairs as if to give a toast. She blinks and the image is gone.

“You know,” Michael says, looking up. His brows furrow. “Maybe we should use the guest room downstairs instead. Avoid the stairs.”

“No,” she says, surprising herself. “I want my room.”

******************

She gives the pillow a sniff, leaning down until her nose brushes against the cotton.

Yeah. That’s her. It smells like the scent of her hair, a little to the left of unwashed and greasy. Faint, but there.

There’s stray, blonde strands of hair that curl, pale and almost invisible, in the space where the pillow had been just before—like sunny, thin worms caught only in a certain slant of light.

Eleanor is playing excavation isn’t she? She is rooting around, examining and putting together all these clues left behind for a relationship, a love; building some semblance of understanding for the ghost of a woman—is she an anthropologist? Or is this a forensic-type investigation?

Is Eleanor Shellstrop dead?

She’s here but not here—the pictures and the gold band around her finger tell her these are her memories but they’re not. Her dumb lizard brain hasn’t ______ it out yet.

Oh. Another word that’s fallen through her fingers before she’s even remembered it.

It feels wrong to roll around, smell, and sleep in someone else’s marriage bed—it’s not the first time she’s done it, but it’s never been her bed.

What other intimacies can she find just sitting in the small-person-shaped dip of this bed? She doesn’t think about the dead flakes or skin, but she breaths deeply and her body nearly lurches into that place between awake and sleep—the familiar smell of bed that can only belong to ones own so strong.

The pillows on this side are fat and soft, just the way she likes them. She knows her head would sink into an orgy of clouds if she were to flop down now. It is tempting to do exactly what she had told Michael she wanted to do.

Eleanor resists—there’s another side to explore, still.

******************

It is during one of these days, where she rolls around on the bed (their bed) like a dog left unsupervised in an empty home, that a thought strikes her. It strikes her so suddenly and with a force that she has to press the palm of her hand to her temple, eyes wincing—

Dummy.

What’s under the bed?

She’d been thorough examining the faint layers of dust coating boxes and folds of laundry on the higher shelves, where someone like Michael would keep his things, that she hadn’t thought to drop below to see where someone like her—past Eleanor, GSTGSD-Eleanor, might have hidden and holed away her own treasure.

The only thing she finds, disappointingly, is a shoe caddy with shoes as big as her head, some dust bunnies, and a laptop still charging.

******************

Vicky the cat goes downstairs into the basement on a daily basis, almost always for half an hour to one, and cries for attention. It’s a bizarre, attention-seeking, and almost resentful performance and, despite being dead ass annoying, Eleanor can relate. What a mood, right?

******************

Forgotten your password? She clicks it.

The prompt doesn’t help at all: you know it, bitch!!

What? Why would she do that to herself? Except, that is so on brand for her and Eleanor hates, hates, hates Eleanor (herself) and loves Eleanor (herself) and hates Eleanor (herself).

She scowls, flexing her fingers. Vicky takes this opportunity to leap into her lap, tail high and crooked for attention, with her unabashed asshole right in Eleanor’s face.

fuckyou! She types, exasperated; before clicking enter, she scowls and adds an extra exclamation mark for good measure—using two exclamations is just enough to push something over the edge, enough to look off balanced, but three would be too much. She wants to send the right amount of recalcitrant bastard to her past self. And if she’s only got one log-in attempt before the laptop bricks, then, fine. Fuck you, GSTGSD Eleanor Shellstrop.

The little ball whirrs for a moment, before the screen flickers, the desktop loading in seconds.

******************

end thoughts: haha okay so I haven’t watched TGP for a hot minute, not since that finale broke me. but I legit don’t recall what GSTGSD stands for (if that’s a show ref) so fuck, haha, help me out here past-adrie. if there’s interest in this I’ll continue it.

#The Good Place #The Good Place fic #hellstrop #eleanor shellstrop #Michael the good place #TGP #my fic

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a-home-for-stray-stories · 5 years ago

Text

WWE Preference: Introductions

Roman Reigns

Seth Rollins

Finn Balor

Baron Corbin

AJ Styles

Jey Uso

Warnings: tiniest bit of language

These are kind of long...

Roman Reigns

You hopped in place while you were waiting in the gorilla. Shit was going down in the ring, and no one had a clue you were there. Only the Authority knew, because they were who brought you to WWE. The last four years you were having the time of your life in Ring of Honor, but it was time for this. Stephanie had spearheaded the attempt to recruit you, and she quickly became someone you looked up to. She was everything you wanted to be: strong, intelligent, and elegant. Well, from the short time of knowing her, that was your perception of her. You didn’t follow WWE. All you were told was the Shield and the Authority were bitter enemies and you were more than willing to take up the Authority’s cause - especially after the way Stephanie painted the story. If your focus were tangible it would have burned straight through the curtains. You could hear the commotion of the six men in the ring. Randy, Kane, and Batista were in a straight up brawl with Roman, Seth, and Dean. It was your turn to stir the pot. No music, you slipped through the curtain and strolled down the ramp. The men in the ring didn’t notice you at all, but Hunter and Stephanie welcomed you to the side of the ring with open arms. There was a good portion of the crowd who recognized you. Seth and Dean took a couple of suicide dives off the right side of the ring, and as they were getting up, they saw you and paused. You gave them a wink before your eyes went back to the ring. Randy was to your left in the corner closest to you, and Roman was sizing him up for a spear. You already knew what you wanted to do, and Stephanie placed a hand on your back, silently affirming your decision. Roman’s ‘oo-ah’ was your signal. At the same time you slid into the ring, Seth was up on the apron warning Roman. All you did was block his path to Randy, and the entire fight came to a screeching halt. Roman was able to stop himself, but only inches from you. He was just tall enough that you had to look up at him. You put your hands on your hips, smirked, and stared him down. This was a trick you’d used a thousand times before and every time it rattled the man across from you, but not this time. Roman dipped his glare to your eye level and moved closer. It took you off guard. They assured you Roman would immediately back away, but tonight he was too pumped up. The strangest sensation came over you when you found yourself fighting the urge to back away. He was fired up from the fight, and his pent up aggression was causing his body to shake.

“Get out of my way.” He growled. He was not what you expected. None of this was. In your mind they were pissy little brats, and that was not who was standing in front of you. A legitimate anger was radiating from him, and it made you question what exactly the Authority did to get him to this point. It made you question everything Steph had said to you the last few months.

“Get out of my way.” He reiterated.

Your bravado had slipped away and only a, “No” came out. It almost sounded like a question, and Roman gave you a confused look. You started to pull yourself together. “No” you said firmer. You gave him a hard shove, hardly moving him.

“Ha, nice try.” Dean called from the ropes. His voice pulled you back into the reality that this was bigger than you and Roman. If Steph had been lying to you, you needed to figure out the truth, but you couldn’t do that in this moment. You needed to pull this debut off like nothing was wrong, then reassess later.

“Try?” You ask Dean before stepping closer to Roman and tilting your chin up, “I did exactly what I came here to do.”

The crack of the kendo stick across Seth’s back was soon followed by the one hitting Dean. Kane and Batista had Seth and Dean in a corner. Roman looked from them back to you.

“Ball’s in your yard now, Big Dog.” You teased him. A ripple went through his jaw as he finally moved out of the ring and helped Seth and Dean over the barrier. Once he felt they were at a safe distance, Roman turned to look back and you were still watching them. The rest of The Authority was laughing and celebrating in the retreat as they slid into the ring around you, but not you. Your eyes held his a few more seconds until Randy laid an arm around your shoulders and whispered into your ear. Seth and Dean pulled Roman away as you faked a smile and let Randy do the same.

Seth Rollins

William Regal had done this for you because he knew there would be no stopping you anyways. Sure you’d be a great singles competitor to have in NXT now that your tag partner was out for an indefinite amount of time due to injury, but you were a loose, red-hot cannon with a single target: Lacey Evans. She had just slipped out of your grasp, finding out she’d been called up to Raw at the very TakeOver she took your partner from you. Regal was with you when you got the news...both about your partner and about Lacey.

“There’s no choice is there?” He said quietly as you stared at a wall.

The next Monday night Seth was delivering a promo when Lacey interrupted him. She was her arrogant self as she mocked him and the crowd and announced her arrival to the red brand. As she was explaining her mission to classy up Monday Night Raw, much to the annoyance of everyone else involved, your music hit. It was truly unexpected and the crowd went crazy. Seth was the most confused. He hadn’t met either of you in his life, and wasn’t quite sure how he found himself in the middle of this.

Lacey let out a laugh, “Aren’t there suppose to be two of you?”

You saw red and the next thing you knew you were on top of her. Before you knew it a big arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you off of her. You watched her roll into the corner as Seth moved in between you. Without thinking, you shoved him as hard as you could.

“Whoa!” He stumbled back a little and put his hands up.

Of course, you knew who he was, but seeing him in person was a whole different story. You had always thought he was hot, but damn he was really hot. You saw the smirk cut across his face like he was impressed and to your surprise, he moved out of the way. You went right back to work, only to be interrupted once again by Baron Corbin. His music was nearly drowned out by the boos of the audience.

“Alright, that’s enough!” He yelled from the top of the ramp. “As Acting General Manager, I keep order here on Monday Night Raw.” His words riled up the crowd some more. Lacey had rolled out of the ring leaving you and Seth alone in the ring.

“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing?” Seth quipped, pulling some laughs. Even you couldn’t keep the smile from sneaking across your face.

“Yes...Seth. Not that you would know anything about being a leader.” Baron continued down the ramp. “Y/n, I know it’s your first night here, but this attacking innocent people for no reason isn’t going to fly here.”

“Innocent...” You scoffed at the term.

“Acting General Manager Corbin...” Lacey had grabbed a mic outside the ring, “Allow me to introduce this nasty to everyone...this is Y/n and she’s just angry because she went and let her tag team partner get injured to the point she may not be able to come back...” Lacey was getting back into the ring as she talked. The entire audience booed, having seen it was her who caused the injury.

In a split second you saw an opportunity and you took it. As she was climbing onto the apron she got a stiff kick to the face, sending straight back to the floor. The crack it made was amplified by the mic in her hand.

“Y/n! What did I just say?” Baron jumped onto the apron, “You touch her again, I’ll send your ass back to NXT!”

Your heart dropped at his words and Lacey’s face lit up. Seth saw the pain in your face when you flipped around to see if Baron was being serious. You hadn’t been on Raw long enough to know how things worked.

“Back off...” Seth moved in front of him, “You don’t have that power.”

“You want to find out?” Baron challenged and Seth just stared back at him.

“I, for one, would love to...” Lacey said, glaring at you as she walked around the ring.

“I dare you...” Baron hopped off the apron and pointed at you as you walked to Seth’s side. “Touch her again and we’ll find out.” He and Lacey walked back up the ramp to Baron’s music.

“If he can really send me back to NXT...” You turned to Seth, “I can’t risk it.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, “Well, let’s go figure out if he can.”

He took a few steps before he realized you weren’t following him, so he turned around to see you giving him a confused look.

“You don’t have to help me...” You told him, not wanting him to feel like he had to.

“You got a better plan?” A smug smile hit his face when you shook your head no. “C’mon...” He motioned to the ropes, “I got resources.”

Finn Balor

You walked into your house after a late night dinner with yet another failed date. This one, though, this one had been particularly bad. No basic etiquette, no manners, and no filter between his brain and mouth. Two hours of trying not to throw up while watching him eat and listening to sexist garbage spew out of his mouth was pure torture. He didn’t even walk you to your door, which honestly you were grateful for. Before you put your keys down, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime call from you brother, Seth. He normally called you after his matches, so when you accepted the call, you didn’t bother to look at the screen. You left your phone on the counter while you took your shoes off and went straight into ranting about your date.

“Well, my life has been a living hell for the last two and a half hours...” You started, going to your refrigerator for some leftover pizza. “...get this, this is how it ended...he rolled down his window, as I am walking to my door, he YELLS out, for all my neighbors to hear, you sure you don’t want to go back to my place and, ya know, bump uglies or something.” You did your best impersonation of the guy. You let out a groan, “Who even says that?” Laughs burst from your phone, but one of them was definitely not your brother.

“You had to deal with that guy for two and a half hours? It must have been hell.” The thick Irish accent made your heart drop. You were so embarrassed, you didn’t want to look at your phone.

“Ya, not alone, Y/n” Seth called out. They laugh some more while you summoned the courage to look at the phone. You knew who Finn was, but you had never met him. When you finally looked at the phone, Finn and Seth were still laughing. He was sitting in the passenger seat as Seth drove.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Finn told you through the laughter.

“Go ahead, laugh. Glad my misery is amusing you two.” You tried to hold onto your frustration, but a full smile lit up your face. The next few minutes you recounted the date.

“I’m sorry, sis. You want me to come beat him up?” Seth asked. You hummed in agreement as nodded your head and ate some pizza.

“I got something that’ll make you feel better.” Finn offered, “You wanna hear what your brother did tonight?” As soon as the words left Finn’s mouth, Seth was groaning, begging Finn to not tell you.

“Yes! What happened?” You asked. Finn looked over to Seth,

“You gotta let me tell her. I can’t let her night end with that shitty date.” His comment made you blush.

“Fine...” Seth groaned. You were just as excited to hear the story as Finn was to tell it.

“He got tripped up on the top rope and face planted on the mat...twice.” You both burst out laughing.

“It’s not that funny...” Seth mumbled.

There was a knock at your door and you all went silent. You flipped around and stared at the door wondering if he would have come back.

“Did he come back?” Seth was not playing around.

“Uh...” You went to peek through the window and relief washed over you, “It’s Katie, I forgot I texted her on my way home and asked her to come over.” You could see the relief in Finn’s face.

“Thank god...that scared the shit out of me.” Seth let out a small laugh.

“Well, thank you, Finn...that did make my night better.” You didn’t want to, but you needed to get off the phone.

“Anytime” His smiled.

“Bye, Seth...Love you.” You called to your brother.

“Love you too!” He answered back.

You wondered if Finn would hang up first, but you ended up looking at each other for a second before you hit the end call.

Baron Corbin

Your mom and Xavier’s dad met later on in their lives. Meaning you and him became step-siblings as young adults. Thankfully, the two of you got along rather well. Really well, actually. You both loved joking around and having fun. He introduced you to WWE. It was something you’d never seen before, but you fell in love with it pretty quickly. Xavier loved having you on Up Up Down Down, because you always gave it your best, but like WWE, it was all so new to you. One of his most viewed videos was when you found out Seth turned on The Shield. It only made it better that you were teaming with him at the very moment you found out. Tonight was a little more low key. Xavier invited you to a show and of course you went. You got there well before the show started and he had a small room set up with a few chairs and his games. Big E and Kofi were already in there when you and Xavier got there.

“Sister!” Big E shouted as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up in a hug. You laughed and hugged him back, no where near able to match his force.

“Don’t kill her, E!” Xavier laughed just before he put you down.

“Hi Kofi.” You smiled at Kofi as he gave you a much softer, but just as sincere hug.

“Alright, so as far as I know, it’ll be just us and Baron might come in a little later.” Xavier started messing with cameras and sorting through games.

“Oh good, plenty of time to whip your ass...” You flashed him a smile as you hopped on a table against the wall.

“Have you won a game ever?” He threw back before laughing again.

There was more trash talk as the games began. You each took turns switching out. When Baron walked in, you had just gotten up and Xavier and Kofi were playing. He didn’t make any attempt to hide the fact that you caught his eye,

“Well, Hi.” It was very obvious that was directed only to you. Of course, you caught that arrogant vibe, but for some reason coming from him it turned you on. If you hadn’t been staring at each other, your hi would have been drowned out by the other three greeting him at the top of their voices. You went back to the table you had been sitting on.

“Baron, this is my step-sister, Y/n.” Xavier told him, not looking away from the game.

“Well damn Woods...” Baron looked over at you again, “No wonder you’re so ugly.”

It shouldn’t be hitting you like this. You couldn’t control the smirk on your face and you just knew your cheeks had a pink hue.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.” Xavier raised his eyebrows and caught a glimpse of Baron looking at you, “I don’t like this...”

“I do...” Baron patted him on the back before joining you at the table. He leaned against the wall. You were definitely curious to see how the conversation was going to go, but to your surprise he completely sucked you in. So much so, you lost track of time.

“Oh, Y/n, if you want to be out there for the show, you better leave.” Xavier warned you, “I’ll take you.” They knew how to navigate the back halls of venues, but you definitely needed a guide.

“I’ll take her.” Baron offered you his hands to help you get off the table. It was totally unnecessary, but you slid your hands in his.

“I really don’t like this...” Xavier said, only partly joking.

You came up behind him and gave him a hug, “He’ll take me. I’ll see you after the show.”

“Do you want a hug from me too, Woods?” Baron asked, “I’ll miss you so much.”

“Shut up, Corbin. I’m watching the clock...” He looked at Baron and pointed a finger at him, “If you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m hunting you down.”

“Plenty of time...” Baron smirked back at him.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god...” You took one of Baron’s arms and began to pull him out of the room, “I’ll see you later.”

“Ten minutes!” Xavier called, but the two of you were already out the door.

A little more than ten minutes later Baron came strolling back in and sat down with Xavier, who gave him quite the glare.

AJ Styles

AJ’s name always came up when you were asked about your favorite wrestlers. You idolized him and secretly had the biggest crush on him, despite being nearly 15 years younger than him. The thought of meeting him made you nervous, but after you signed to WWE you knew running into him was inevitable. It took a few years, but after a stint in NXT you found yourself on Raw with a quickly growing fan base. It was because of your connection with the fans that you were put in the Mixed Match Challenge. Your partner ended up being Elias. The two of you weren’t exactly best friends, you couldn’t think of anyone else you argued more with. You always had to keep your eye out to make sure he wasn’t cheating, but to everyone’s surprise your team kept winning. All you had to do now was beat one more team, then you would be in the finals. The only thing was, the team you had to beat was Charlotte Flair and AJ Styles. You stood in the ring with Elias as Charlotte made her entrance and your stomach turned when AJ made his. You turned around and pulled on the top rope, warming up your muscles, trying to get your mind into the right gear. These were your toughest opponents yet, and eye-fucking AJ wasn’t going to help anyone.

“You got your shit together?” Elias’ voice never failed to drag you into a pissy mood.

“I should be asking you that...” You shot back, “If you cheat, I lose.”

He leaned close to your face, “Then don’t give me a reason to...”

God, you could backhand him across the face, but you settled for an eye roll. When you turned around, you found your competition in the ring. Charlotte had her robe off and your heart nearly stopped as AJ was in the middle of pulling his shirt off. They were ready to square up in the middle of the ring and Elias went to met them. Instead of going to his side, you ducked between the ropes and made yourself comfortable at your corner - something he had done to you. The fans, along with AJ and Charlotte were highly amused, but Elias was pissed.

“What happened to the team thing?” He yelled at you.

“I have total faith in you.” You told him, eyes one hundred percent contradicting you, “You got this.”

He barely did anything before he tagged you in. AJ tried to engage him, but Elias kept dodging. They circled the ring, and when Elias got close enough he gave you a rather hard “tag” on the shoulder. The boos from the audience were to be expected, but then AJ shoved Elias from behind.

“Don’t hit her like that.” He scolded, “What are you, twelve?”

“He's actually five.” You answered as you got into the ring.

“Shut up.” Elias said before shoving AJ back.

“Oh, so now you want to fight...” You got in front of Elias and pushed him back, “Well, too bad, it’s my turn.”

Charlotte just laughed, “How have you two made it this far?”

“How ‘bout I show you?” After you said that, things finally got moving. You did your best against her, but her experience was almost too much and eventually you had to choke your pride and tag out. You tumbled onto the floor and took a moment to catch your breath. Your moment was cut short when you heard the ref began a three count and you scrambled back on the apron to see Charlotte break Elias’ cover. She never saw your kick coming, and like all of the MMC matches, the whole thing devolved into chaos. The guys had managed to take their fight outside the ring and Charlotte tried to throw you out there with them. She didn’t see you catch yourself, but she did turn around in time to see you pulling yourself up to the top rope. With a quick swipe at your feet, she sent you to the floor, but AJ was there to break the fall. He hit the ground on his back and your knees went to either side of his waist. Your hands slid up his chest, but thankfully you were able to stop yourself just short of headbutting him.

“I’m so sorry.” You mumbled out, but it only made him laugh.

“You’re apologizing to the guy you’re trying to beat?” He asked, which really threw you off.

“I just- She- I didn’t mean to and I feel bad...” You knew you were rambling because you were nervous, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I need to get off you, I’m sorr-shit.” You shook your head catching your apology.

His chest vibrated under your hands as he laughed again, a little harder this time. “It’s alright.”

Before you could move, a thick arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you off of AJ. Elias nearly drove all the air out of you as he picked you up and carried you over to the barricade.

“What the fuck was that?” He grumbled, setting you against the timekeepers wall. You ignored his question more focused on breathing. What you couldn’t ignore was the fact that he was reaching behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, but he ignored you as the guitar floated over your head. AJ had just turned his back when Elias started towards him with the weapon. Charlotte saw it, but was too far to do anything except yell at AJ, which caught his attention and the ref’s. You only had a few seconds. On his back swing, you hopped up and grabbed the neck of the guitar. The way it twisted him backwards forced him to let it go.

“What have I said about cheating!” You yelled at him, taking the instrument back to its rightful spot.

“Why would you do that?” He was right behind you.

“We would have been disqualified, moron!” You turned around and shoved him.

“Tag! Y/n, in the ring!” The ref called to you. You didn’t even look in the ring.

“Only if the ref saw!” Elias was still arguing with you.

You crawled onto the apron, “He did see you! Everyone saw you!”

He yelled something else at you, but you had just gotten through the ropes and the moment Charlotte had an opening, she hit you with a stiff spear. That was it. Three count and you were out of the MMC. Once Charlotte was off of you, you rolled out of the ring. Angry? Disappointed? You weren’t really sure what emotion to call it as you sat with your back against the announce table.

Elias stood a few feet away, “Great job...”

“Shut up” You spit back.

He walked away, you figured to leave, but you looked up to see him taking his guitar to the ring. You caught him before he got there, snatching it once again.

“Would you stop?” He yelled as you got off the apron.

You pointed the guitar at him, “You’re an asshole.” With that you smashed it against the ring post. The entire audience erupted in cheers. Charlotte went over to gawk at the pieces of wood, but AJ couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you walked up the ramp.

Jey

Dash and Scott were two of your closest friends. While the three of you were in NXT, you had been an important part of The Revival, but had decided to stay in NXT when they moved on. Now a few years later, they asked you to join them on Smackdown and you couldn’t resist. You made your surprise debut helping Dash beat Kofi. Scott had the ref distracted and you slid into the ring and hit Kofi with a low-blow from behind. The next week you were a guest on commentary along with the Usos as The Revival and The New Day fought to see who would challenge for the Titles that the Usos held. The Usos made their entrance first, so when you came out with The Revival they were already chilling at commentary.

“Aw man...” Corey started as you walked out behind Dash and Scott, “There she is. I’m not a New Day fan, but I was hoping last week was a dream...well, nightmare.”

“Y/n made her Smackdown debut last week as Corey has just alluded to...” Michael clarified as they replayed the clip, “This means The Revival is now at full force.”

“Have you two had the...honor...of facing The Revival with Y/n in tow?” Corey asked The Usos.

“Ah, no we have not.” Jimmy answered. They kept their eyes on you as you came down the ramp.

“Consider yourselves lucky.” Corey added.

“She don’t look that bad.” Jey commented.

“She’s as bad as they come.” Corey assured him, “There’s no way around it. Y/n is just plain mean.”

You and Corey knew each other from NXT, so when you came around the ring you shot him a glare that could kill a man.

“Oh, there it is...” Jey mumbled. He was talking about the glare, but he caught way more than that. The way your heels wrapped around your ankles, the tan of your bare legs, the way your shorts hugged the curve of your hips perfectly, how your shirt was tailored to show you off, even if it had The Revival printed across it. You got on the apron and posed with Scott and Dash. Jey thought he would melt in his chair. Scott helped you off the apron and you took their jackets to your chair.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Corey.” Michael pointed out.

“I’m terrified...We should all be terrified.” He answered.

“Don’t worry, Corey.” Jimmy patted his shoulder, “We got your back.”

You finally sat in the chair and put the headset on. You had yet to acknowledge anyone’s presence.

“Y/n, we’re glad to have you. Welcome to Smackdown.” Michael was the first to break the ice.

“Thank you, Michael. I’m glad to see one of you knows how to do your job.” You threw back.

“Oh come on...” Corey groaned.

“Don’t come at him like that.” Jimmy defended.

You leaned onto the table and looked at Jimmy, “You want me to come at you like that, champ?”

Jimmy furrowed his brow, but Jey smirked a little bit.

“I kinda want you to...” Jey said.

“Bring it on...” Jimmy challenged. Missing the fact that Jey was not on the same page he was. Before you could go for it, The New Day began their entrance. Once E’s introduction was over, you went to go at it, but Michael cut you off.

“What brought you to Smackdown, Y/n?”

You gave him an irritated look, “Because Dash and Scott asked me to, that’s why.”

“I’m just curious, why now?” He clarified.

You sat back in the chair as The New Day descended upon the ring, “Separate, we’re the best. Together, we’re the most dominant team this place has ever seen.”

“Oh really? Then why’re we the champs?” Jey slid his chair up to get a better look at you when you answered his question. He sure wasn’t disappointed when that smirk cut across your face.

“You haven’t met me.” For the first time, you actually locked eyes with him. He thought he saw a flicker of a slight crack in your rock solid confidence. He didn’t question the fact that your eyes stayed on him longer than you anticipated. A pancake to Corey’s face broke your gaze. E handed The Usos handfuls of pancakes as Kofi and Woods danced around.

“Let a pancake touch me...I dare you.” You warned E.

“You’re not nice!” Woods pointed at you. You feigned hurt feelings as Scott and Dash moved between them and you.

"Back off.” Scott warned.

“They’re idoits.” Dash told you, making you laugh.

“Eh, you an idiot.” Jimmy yelled at him.

“I’m sorry, of everyone present, who’s eating a pancake out of a grown man’s leotard?” You asked.

Jimmy just glared at you. The match got started and the bickering kept up. Jey noticed you rarely took your eyes off the action. It impressed him that you were able to fire back such snide comments when you clearly were fully invested in the match and not the conversation. Michael was in the middle of a comment when Scott stumbled onto the apron. You were growing impatient and wanted this match to be over. You took your headset off and walked over to Scott.

“This has been going on a while...” You told him.

He rolled his eyes, taking deep breaths, “It’s The New Day, what’d you expect?”

“More than this.” You scolded. “What do you need?”

As you spoke to him, you didn’t realize Big E was getting ready to spear him off the apron, but more importantly E didn’t realize that you were on the floor. As E began his charge, Jey made the connection.

“Oh sh-” He ripped his headset off. He had just enough time grab your arm and pull you out of the way. All you knew, was that you were talking to Scott then the next thing you knew you were buried into Jey’s chest. You hadn’t felt this way in a long time. The way he smelled fogged your brain, the way his arms held you tight against him made your knees weak. You only had one word to describe that feeling - stupid. You pushed out of his arms and turned around to see what he had saved you from.

He leaned into your ear, “You’re welcome.”

#wwe imagine #roman reigns imagine #seth rollins imagine #finn balor imagine #baron corbin imagine #aj styles imagine #jey uso imagine #roman reigns #seth rollins #finn balor #Baron Corbin #AJ Styles #Jey Uso #wwe preferences

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kabillieu · 5 years ago

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I finally turned in the third round of edits for my manuscript to my publisher. I simultaneously hope that only copywriting edits are left and am grateful for the rigor of being put through three detailed full-manuscript edits. I didn’t necessarily expect that amount and intensity of editing, especially from a small independent press that specializes mainly in poetry.

I booked a venue for my release party! On my birthday! Months of teeth-gnashing, but I did it. Now I just have to do everything else, but the main thing holding me back was deciding on a date and booking a venue. So that. is. done.

I’ve been asked* to do one offsite reading at AWP for sure, and I’ve been approached to do a potential second reading. I am bringing my WHOLE family to San Antonio. My kid’s spring break miraculously coincides with the conference, so he and Dominic are coming, and my parents are also coming to help with babysitting so Dominic can tag along to some of the events. My mom has also expressed interest in coming to my readings. This is funny to me and sweet.

I’ve been asked to do a really fun reading series in an Omaha brewery in April.

I was also asked to perform at the Lit Fest here in August, and it’s a big deal because it will be by far the biggest and most legitimizing platform I’ve had.

For the summer, I’m trying to set up a small Southeastern book tour in New Orleans, Athens, Birmingham, and my hometown library. So far the library is refusing to call me back, and I’m a long way away from settling the other events, but if nothing else I feel like my friends will let me read my poems to them in their living rooms, so if it comes to that I would still count myself as lucky.

All this is to say that literary people are some of the most generous, community-building people out there, and I’m so grateful for anyone who helps me amplify my voice. Writers can be wonderful. Also, it’s so helpful for me to write this list so I can see that I am trying to be professional, trying to treat my work as it is--worthy of being read.

*asked after I emailed the journal asking if I could read at their event lol

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tacitwhisky · 5 years ago

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Jon / Sansa Reread - Arya I, AGOT

< Previous Chapter (Jon I) | Next Chapter (Jon II) >

In which Arya is not good at sewing, she hangs out with Jon, and the two of them watch Joffrey be a dick.

The main action of Arya I is essentially two scenes and interactions: Arya with Sansa, and then Arya with Jon. But despite its simplicity, there’s a lot going on in this chapter. Jon I introduced the first really big conflict in the Stark family (Jon vs Catelyn), and Arya I introduces the second (Sansa vs Arya). It also our first real introduction to Sansa; not just her as a person, but a character in her element and the social sphere she’s most comfortable in.

Martin has said before that he originally created Sansa as a contrast for Arya and to introduce some conflict into the Stark family, and that’s very much in evidence in these first few chapters, starting with how in the second paragraph of her very first POV chapter Arya is already being contrasted unfavorably with Sansa by Septa Mordane.

Arya’s stitches were crooked again.

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls. Sansa’s needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.”

There’s a perception in fandom that Sansa and Arya fundamentally don’t like each other or that Sansa was condescending to Arya, but something that’s underrated is just how much the two are actively pitted against each other by Septa Mordane. And this is as good a time as any to mention that Septa Mordane fails epically in her role as a mentor and is kind of a dick. It’s one thing for Septa Mordane to not want to encourage Arya’s more rambunctious interests, but it’s entirely another for her to constantly beat Arya down and reinforce her negative self image.

It’s unfortunate in a lot of ways that Arya’s POV comes before Sansa’s. It’s a known psychological phenomenon that your first impression of someone else really does affect how you see them: there’s a study (wish I still had the link) where two groups were given the same list of actions someone took with the only difference being a negative or positive news story they had the group read about the person before the list of actions. Sure enough, people who read the negative news story rated that person’s actions as more negative, while the people who read the positive news story rated their actions as more positive.

With Sansa all her negatives as a character are front loaded, and our perception of her is permanently tarnished by Arya’s frustration and issues with her. This has the cascade of making the reader judge Sansa more harshly than they should for everything she does later.

She looked glumly at her sister. Sansa was chatting away happily as she worked. Beth Cassel, Ser Rodrik’s little girl, was sitting by her feet, listening to every word she said, and Jeyne Poole was leaning over to whisper something in her ear.

“What are you talking about?” Arya asked suddenly.

Jeyne gave her a startled look, then giggled. Sansa looked abashed. Beth blushed. No one answered.

Arya is pretty clearly excluded from this group, though considering what they’re talking about it’s not that surprising.

“Joffrey likes your sister,” Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell’s steward and Sansa’s dearest friend. “He told her she was very beautiful.”

“He’s going to marry her,” little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. “Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm.”

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment. “Beth, you shouldn’t make up stories,” Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. “What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He’s very gallant, don’t you think?”

We can see here in Sansa holding court a lot her natural leadership qualities that will make her a good lady or queen someday. She’s kind when she corrects Beth, and doesn’t embarrass her. She also tries to include Arya in the conversation now that’s she engaged in it. I think there’s a tendency to read this interaction as Sansa fishing for a compliment, but there’s no actual reason to read negative intent into it. She really does seem to just be trying to include Arya.

“Jon says he looks like a girl,” Arya said.

Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.”

It’s worth pointing out that Sansa isn’t completely off base here. If Jon’s first chapter showed anything it’s that he is remarkably bitter about the cards life has dealt him and it’ll be an ongoing aspect in this chapter too. So while it’s dickish of Sansa to dismiss Jon’s opinion because of his birth, she’s not actually wrong on the substance of it.

“He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

“Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise.

It’s the same thing here with her calling Jon their half brother. Sansa is the Stark most aware of formalities, and there is a formal distance between Jon and the other starklings that even he observes (for example back in Bran I where he called Robb “Stark”). There’s a legitimate argument to be made that’s Sansa’s simply being precise here and not trying to distance him from them.

That’s not how Arya perceives it though; for her to be bastard is to be other (we’ll see this again in a minute), so when Sansa says, “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard” Arya immediately interprets that as Sansa othering and distancing Jon. Thus why her answer is that Jon is their brother despite Sansa not actually saying he wasn’t related to them. Bastard is other, and Arya is closer to Jon than anyone.

I actually think since we don’t get Sansa POV of this interaction there’s enough ambiguity to support either reading depending on your headcanon: she may simply be being precise and formal, or she may be trying to distance Jon from them. Or maybe a mixture of both.

Of course, because we’re in Arya’s viewpoint and already preset to think the worst of Sansa, I imagine most readers interpreted it the second way on their first read, which would then make them dislike Sansa: we’ve had two chapters to empathize with Jon, so just by narrative law our first loyalty is to him, and we’re currently in Arya’s viewpoint and thus biased towards her interpretations of events.

“Arya, why aren’t you at work?” the septa asked. She rose to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. “Let me see your stitches.”

Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa’s attention. “Here,” she said, surrendering up her work.

The septa examined the fabric. “Arya, Arya, Arya,” she said. “This will not do. This will not do at all.”

Everyone was looking at her. It was too much. Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sister’s disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf. Even Princess Myrcella looked sorry for her. Arya felt tears filling her eyes. She pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door.

This is one of the pettier and crueler things Septa Mordane does. Instead of minimizing Arya’s embarrassment, she amplifies it so she can preen and cast herself as long suffering. She truly is the worst.

There’s also an interesting thing going on here where Arya’s attributing things to Sansa that aren’t actually happening. First she blames Sansa for attracting Mordane’s attention, then thinks thinks Sansa is internally pleased at her embarrassment but just isn’t showing it. In both instances there’s no actual proof this is what's happening, but again we run into that cascade of negativity in how the reader sees Sansa. It also dovetails perfectly with the negative trope of the snooty feminine older sister that Sansa already falls into.

It wasn’t fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys. Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near.

Again we see a zero sum dynamic between Sansa and Arya: there’s only enough femininity for one of them, and Sansa already used it all up (again attributing something to Sansa that she actually has no control over).

It’s also interesting to note that I think a lot of people actually conflate Sansa and Jeyne when it comes to their treatment of Arya: even I internally thought that both of them called Arya horseface, when the paragraph very clearly states it was just Jeyne. And while Sansa doesn’t seem to have shut Jeyne down (though I can’t remember if she ever knew Jeyne was doing that), it is worth noting that Sansa doesn’t bully Arya, and outside of arguments doesn’t seem to antagonize her.

This matters because Sansa and Jeyne despite being lumped together in Arya’s head, actually occupy very different positions within Winterfell. I wish I had bookmarked it, but I just read a meta the other day about how galling Arya’s existence must’ve been for Jeyne; no matter how much closer she is to Sansa or better at feminine pursuits, Jeyne because of her birth will always be lower than Arya, never Sansa’s true sister. Which is kind of fascinating when you remember that Jeyne will later be forced to be Arya when she’s married to Ramsay. She gets what she wants, but very much not how she wanted it.

(this also makes me want to read a Jon x Jeyne AU. No? Just me? Fine)

It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward.

Being canonically bad at horse riding and math are strangely enough two things people tend to forget about Sansa. Partly I’m sure it’s that this isn’t in the show, and partly it just doesn’t really jive with the rest of Sansa’s character. Being able to manage a household is part of the westerosi feminine ideal, and so it doesn’t really make sense that she’d be bad at it, especially considering how well she is at logistics and managing a household later on in the Eyrie. Chalking this one up to early installment weirdness seems fair.

By now Septa Mordane would certainly have sent word to her lady mother. If she went to her room, they would find her. Arya did not care to be found. She had a better notion. The boys were at practice in the yard. She wanted to see Robb put gallant Prince Joffrey flat on his back. “Come,” she whispered to Nymeria. She got up and ran, the wolf coming hard at her heels.

They [Arya and Nymeria] arrived, flushed and breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin.

This is a very Jon pose; composed, thoughtful, intent. It’s actually low-key one of my favorite descriptions for just how much it tells you about Jon in just a few words. It’s also very in keeping with how Bran described him in his chapter as slender and quick and graceful. Jon in these early chapters and from the viewpoint of Bran and Arya has a very different physicality to him than later when things are solely from his viewpoint. In these early chapters he’s a little more bishie than later; partly because he’s younger, partly because men don’t think there appearance as much in fiction.

Which all on its own is interesting to contrast with Tyrion who is exceptionally aware of his body at all times, and the female characters who are much more attentive to what they wear and how they look. I tend to think it comes from Martin’s, however subconscious, male gaze, but it also fits westeros: women from a young age are socialized to view themselves as sex objects and to be hyper aware of their attractiveness and appearance. It’s sadly not that different from the real world.

Jon gave her a curious look. “Shouldn’t you be working on your stitches, little sister?”

Arya made a face at him. “I wanted to see them fight.”

He smiled. “Come here, then.”

Arya climbed up on the window and sat beside him, to a chorus of thuds and grunts from the yard below.

“A shade more exhausting than needlework,” Jon observed.

“A shade more fun than needlework,” Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

Arya’s fear that her outsider qualities stem from bastardy hints at just how much damage Catelyn’s ostracization of Jon seeps unintentionally into the rest of the starklings. As we saw when Sansa called Jon a bastard, Arya equates bastardy with otherness. It’s no doubt one of the reasons she’s so close to Jon as they both don’t feel like they fit. That and his unquestioning acceptance of her less feminine coded interests.

And just like when he gave up having his own wolf so Bran and the other starklings could get theirs, we see again just how much Jon loves his siblings. It must’ve stung for Arya to so blatantly unhappy about being like him, but he wasn’t bitter about it. In general with his siblings Jon doesn’t get bitter (outside of some stuff with Robb), only when the rest of the world intrudes.

(this also marks the first of many, many, many times Arya thinks about Jon mussing her hair. It gets old)

“Why aren’t you down in the yard?” Arya asked him.

He gave her a half smile. “Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes,” he said. “Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords.”

“Oh.” Arya felt abashed. She should have realized. For the second time today, Arya reflected that life was not fair.

“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.”

“The woman is important too!” Arya protested.

Jon chuckled. “Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister. Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.”

“A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh. “That would look silly. Besides, if a girl can’t fight, why should she have a coat of arms?”

Jon shrugged. “Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.”

Like with Tyrion last chapter, we can see here the seeds of Jon’s later ability to empathize and understand other marginalized groups. Jon’s narrative is a constant examination of his own privilege and then using his bastard status as a way to extend sympathy and understanding. This is something he’s challenged with again and again.

It’s also reminiscent of Bran I where he was sympathetic to Bran but also didn’t hesitate to tell him the truth. Jon as a person is fiercely loyal and kind to those he cares about, but doesn’t coddle. Like we talked about last chapter, because of his position Jon is keenly aware that the world is not fair.

Jon watched them leave, and Arya watched Jon. His face had grown as still as the pool at the heart of the godswood. Finally he climbed down off the window. “The show is done,” he said. He bent to scratch Ghost behind the ears. The white wolf rose and rubbed against him. “You had best run back to your room, little sister. Septa Mordane will surely be lurking. The longer you hide, the sterner the penance. You’ll be sewing all through winter. When the spring thaw comes, they will find your body with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers.”

Arya didn’t think it was funny. “I hate needlework!” she said with passion. “It’s not fair!”

“Nothing is fair,” Jon said. He messed up her hair again and walked away from her, Ghost moving silently beside him.

I find it endlessly hilarious how extra Jon tends to be in these Winterfell chapters; it’s a good writing tip though. Teenagers in general tend to be extra.

Show Comparison

I’m putting this as its own section this time because both of these scenes are almost entirely missing from the show: in the first episode we see Arya bored at sewing before she runs off to hang with the boys, but there’s no confrontation or dialogue with Sansa. And the second scene with Jon simply doesn’t exist.

While on the surface these aren’t big cuts, and were most likely simply due to time constraints and attempts to streamline things, they do subtly change the characters and speak to an underlying difference in how D&D see Arya and Sansa: feminine arts become something Arya generally despises because she thinks they’re dumb, not something that she dislikes because she’s bad at them and there’s no place for someone like her in her society.

We also miss her “the woman matters too!” exclamation, which is a far cry from her “most girls are dumb” line later in the show. It’s a subtle shift, but an important one.

---

This wraps up Arya I. Overall it’s a strong chapter, and an interesting introduction to Sansa: not a favorable one because of the POV, but one that’s consistent with her character. We won’t get her perspective on her relationship until both of them are well on their way south, but luckily for us we won’t have to wait that long. Next reread will be Jon II where he has the infamous scene with Catelyn at Bran’s bedside, and then the chapter after that will be Sansa I.

If you’ve got any questions or comments hit me up on my asks; I love talking with you all.

Previous Chapters:

Bran I

Jon I

Next Chapter (Jon II) >

#reread #jon snow #arya stark #sansa stark #jonsa #agot #got #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #meta #asoiaf #asoiaf meta

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rocknvaughn · 6 years ago

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A Rant About Colin Morgan “Fans”

Today, not long from now, a supposed “fan” of Colin Morgan will begin posting video clips from his brand new film Benjamin, despite my--and others’--request not to do so.

This is not some big budget cinematic Marvel universe blockbuster we’re talking about. Benjamin is a small, independent LGBT film. Keep in mind that, while it is available to rent on streaming services in the UK, the film was literally released in cinemas two days ago, and is still actively in theatres, trying to earn back the investment that the production company gave it so that it could be made.

Other fans on this site have posted ways in which international fans could legitimately access the film so that they could also financially support it. Many of us fans that do not live in the UK have availed ourselves of these means in order to both view and financially support the film.

Therefore, it frustrates and incenses me more than I can accurately put into words that someone would find it MORALLY ACCEPTABLE to pirate a rented video stream (because Benjamin is not available for purchase at this time, only for rental) for a film that just opened ffs! and post otherwise unreleased scenes online before even most people in country have been able to see it.

Spoiling the film so soon after its release literally takes money away from the film’s creators and, if there were profit options in Colin’s contract, it literally takes money away from the person you supposedly support!

Make no mistake, this isn’t about supporting Colin’s work. Because, if it were, the “fan” would instead be trying to amplify the ways that more people could legitimately support the film. No, this is about gaining attention for oneself by being the first to post something, even at the expense of the project and the people involved in it.

This is not the first time this particular “fan” has spoiled Colin’s projects in what I consider to be an inappropriate manner. Just a couple of months ago, she was posting audio clips from The Worldship Humility that contained spoilers just a few days after the book became available. Certainly, it was not enough time for most people with access to the audiobook to have completed their listen, and yet, she took it upon herself to determine that it was fine to spoil a few choice key moments from the book in order to gain more clicks and followers.

And while I am upset with this specific person at the moment, sadly I know she won’t be the first or the last to do something like this.

Make no mistake that it is more that I have issues with this sort of “fan” in general than just one person.

Colin has said in more than one interview in the last couple of years that there isn’t enough support for the really good stories, that there isn’t enough financial support being given to them. And here you guys are, pirating his stuff and sharing it willy-nilly just after it’s released without even a thought to these very issues that Colin is trying to fight against by the projects he chooses.

Do not call yourself a “fan” if Colin is simply “eye candy” to you or a smooth voice to listen to but you don’t give a shit otherwise. Do not go around calling yourself his “fan” when you disrespect his beliefs and his life’s work for your own selfish needs. With “fans” like that, who needs enemies?

If you’re reading this right now and you feel that these things are all well and good “in the interest of the fandom”, then please, I beg you, unfollow me now. Because I have no interest in associating with the kinds of “fans” that give the rest of us a bad name.

#colin morgan #rant #soap box #fan behaviour

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jarienn972 · 5 years ago

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A Simple Spell - Chapter Seven

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

I’m getting this update out a couple days later than planned due to a very busy week but I didn't want to wait until Monday to post it. I know I ended the last chapter on a pretty big cliffhanger (and just might do it again...) so I didn't want to delay the resolution for too much longer. Thank you, @lassluna for your beta assistance with a few corrections. They were much appreciated! Thanks again to @cocohook38 for the beautiful artwork above and to everyone involved with the @cssns event! I was hoping to have this finished before the summer officially ended, but real life delayed things a bit so it looks like we’ll run into Halloween season.

Anyway, when we left off, Emma had just learned that her mother, Ava, was Cora's sister making her a cousin to Regina and Zelena. It's not a surprise she's going to take lightly...

Read from the beginning on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six

AO3 FF.net

Anger.

Betrayal.

Confusion.

Emma's emotions were reeling and amplifying with every second that passed. Ruby wanted to say something but she didn't even know where to begin so she chose to remain quiet, close by should Emma reach out, but also just out of reach should her friend decide instead that she needed to punch something.

They had to have known. Regina and Zelena had both been old enough to have known that Ava was related to them.and David had to have known that his step-mother had also been their aunt. Why would they have kept something this important from her?

Emma had so many questions swirling inside her head for her newfound cousins and even more for her brother, questions she wasn’t even sure how to ask. All she knew right knew right now was that she was seething and then she heard the voices echoing from the stairway.

“Everything is set up,” she heard Zelena announce, but Emma no longer harbored any interest in the planned rituals for the full moon or even for anything related to magic in general. She was hurting and the secrets that had been withheld from her were the cause.

The moment Regina’s visage rounded the last corner and came into view, Emma lashed out, holding up the photograph that had tumbled out of Gold’s book. “When were you going to tell me?” she growled, practically shoving the picture into Regina’s face.

“Tell you what? Zelena just said that everything was ready. Let’s get upstairs…,” Regina responded, barely glancing at the old photograph.

“Seriously? I’m not talking about your damned rituals!” Emma glared as she waved the photo into Regina’s line of sight again. “This! When were you going to fill me in on this little secret, cousin?”

“Cousin…,” Zelena repeated knowingly, although she was more than happy to fade into the background and allow her younger sister to take the brunt of Emma’s ire.

“Emma…,” Regina began, hands raised before her defensively as she sought to defuse the situation that they had indeed created. “Emma, we always intended to tell you when you were ready…”

“When I was ready?” Emma scoffed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why would I need to be ready to find out that we were related? Why did it need to be such a secret for me to find out who I’m related to around here?!”

“Okay...that’s my cue to leave,” Ruby said shyly as she threw her crimson cape on over her shoulders as voices raised which was probably going to lead to tempers flaring. She flipped the hood atop her brunette hair and eased her way back a few steps past Zelena. “I’m outta here…” she whispered, grimacing at the thought of what was to come. “Em, call me later if you need to chat…”

Regina ignored Ruby’s exit as she attempted to plead her case. “You needed to be more confident in your magic first,” she explained. “You needed to trust us as your teachers so that when the time came, you’d understand…”

“Understand what? I don’t understand anything right now except that all of you lied to me!” Emma shouted back angrily. “This doesn’t have anything to do with magic! You knew that my mother was your aunt and that I was your cousin the moment we met. Why would you keep that from me?”

“You may not believe us, but we did it for your own good,” Zelena interjected. “It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, but you had to be ready for the truth…”

“My own good? You sincerely expect me to believe that? Hell, why should I believe anything that either of you tell me now? Did you only sign on to tutor me in magic because I was your cousin?”

“It’s not like that, Emma…,” Regina sighed exasperatedly. “You being our cousin was only a tiny part of the reason we agreed to tutor you in the magical arts. Storybrooke’s future depends on it…”

“What?” Emma asked in confusion. How was anything in Storybrooke dependent on her? “You’re making absolutely no sense…”

“We can explain…,” Zelena offered, but she knew Emma was aching far too much and wasn’t in the most receptive mood at that moment. There was too much history to explain. So much that Emma would need to be educated about before she’d understand and this night wasn’t going to be near enough.

“Oh, I’d love for you to explain it all to me, but not right now,” Emma spat “Right now, I can’t even look at the two of you without wanting to punch you in your faces, and I still have to decide how to go confront my brother about his role in all of this!” She snatched Gold’s potion book from the stool she’d rested it on and tucked everything that had fallen from it back inside the leather bound cover.

“Don’t be too hard on David,” Regina stated dejectedly, lowering her chin to avoid eye contact. “None of this was his decision…”

“Doesn’t make him any less complicit,” Emma reminded her cousin as she tucked the book beneath her arm before stabbing an index finger into Regina’s face with a stern warning. “We’re not done with this conversation. All of you owe me some answers and when I calm down enough, I’ll be back for those answers. Right now, I’m getting out of here before I do something I might regret!”

She stomped up the steps into the mausoleum and stepped out into the moonlit graveyard with Regina on her heels. Regina could plead for her to listen all she wanted but Emma had already tuned her out. All she wanted right now was someone she could vent to - someone who wasn’t family and who wouldn’t jump to judgement.

Only one person’s name came to mind and she could only hope that he’d answer his phone at this late hour.

**********

Emma didn’t even bother heading back to her car in her haste to escape the cemetery and the growing frustration gnawing away in the pit of her stomach. She’d ended up taking a very brisk walk toward the harbor, wishing that the evening air would help clear her head and calm the maelstrom building within. Nothing she’d done yet had been successful to quell her fiery temper so she was pinning her hopes on someone else.

Killian Jones had answered her brief late night call seeking a drinking buddy and, sensing her unspoken yet audible distress, had agreed to meet her at the dock. Something was definitely not right with his new friend, the deputy, but he was chivalrous enough to lend a damsel an ear and allow her to vent all she needed.

“Is everything alright, Swan?” he asked stupidly, mentally kicking himself for such a ridiculous query when she was obviously visibly upset. “You sounded quite vexed when you phoned so I’m concerned…”

“Vexed would be a severe understatement right now,” she grumbled as she neared. As she drew closer to his position, even in the pale glow of the moonlight, he could see that her eyes were reddened and her cheeks dampened with trails of fallen tears.

“Why don’t we take a stroll away from here and find somewhere private where you can relay to me everything that’s weighing down your heart, Love?” he offered. “I believe you are in need of a patient, singular audience right now, not a noisy, crowded tavern…”

“As long as there’s alcohol involved, I don’t care where we go… I’m good with heading down to the Rabbit Hole, but if you have a better suggestion… I just want to drink until I can’t feel the betrayal anymore…”

He slid his hand inside his hip length black leather coat and withdrew a little piece of history - a weathered, dark brown glass flask topped with a cork plug. “There’s a small park that’s perhaps a five minute trip from here, right down by the beach. The sea has always been a calming influence on me. Perhaps tonight, it will be for you as well? I’ve plenty of rum here for whatever level of numbness you desire.”

“Rum, huh?” she chuffed. “Should have known you pirate types would have rum around…”

“Shall we then?” he offered, tucking the flask safely away until they reached their destination while simultaneously gesturing to the boardwalk that led away from the docks and down to the waterfront. “You can freely relinquish whatever is on your mind tonight, Emma. You’ll find me to be an excellent listener.”

As they sat side by side on a concrete park bench, Killian proved true to his word, allowing her to air her gripes without commentary, breaking her monologue with only a few questions here and there for clarification. Simply having him here by her side had already done wonders to lighten Emma’s mood, and although she was still bitter, Killian Jones had managed to temper the sting of betrayal with his mere presence. Most of the men she had encountered in her life had been dismissive - her former bosses, former lovers and even her brother at times, but Killian had shown a keen interest in all she had to say, no matter how trivial her ramblings might seem. Neal’s interest had been purely physical, as had most of her one night stands that came after that failed relationship so it was unexpected to have a man who actually wanted to hear her thoughts and legitimately cared about how she felt.

He’d patiently allowed her to unload everything on him as she relayed the tale of how she had grown up wanting to know all about her absent family and how she’d always felt she had a much larger lineage, despite her mother’s denial. She told him how she’d come to find David through her research and made the decision to move from Boston to Storybrooke, hoping she’d learn more once she could immerse herself into her birthplace. Then, she admitted for the first time tonight that she never imagined that the rest of her family would conceal the truth from her. Regina and Zelena could have told her that she was their cousin, but the simple fact that they hadn’t left her to only wonder what else they might be keeping from her.

“Do you think I’m overreacting?” she finally asked him directly after bombarding him for nearly thirty minutes with her woes, fingers tapping nervously atop Gold’s book that rested on the bench to her right.

“Well, I suppose it comes down to precisely what their reasoning for withholding the information from you may have been. I’m not privy to their thought process, Love, but perhaps they felt as though they had your best interests at heart?” Killian replied with a shrug of his leather-clad shoulders.

“Best interests of what?” she retorted. “What interests would it serve to not reveal that I was related to them?”

“I wish I could answer that for you but I think you know that only your family will be able to provide those details for you.”

Emma sighed in defeat as she slumped back against the bench, taking a pull from Killian’s flask of rum - and damned good, strong rum it was. In her head, she knew he was right, but her heart still burned and she wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough yet to desire another confrontation with Regina or Zelena. Or to confront David for that matter. She was probably angriest with him right now because they’d been working side by side and even living under the same roof for months and he hadn’t even dropped a single hint that Emma might be related to the Mills sisters. There was absolutely no way that he hadn’t known as a child that his stepmother was a member of the most powerful family in town.

“I suppose I’m not going to have a whole lot of options except to confront them, am I?” she asked rhetorically as he wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders, eliciting an involuntary shudder from her at the unexpected, yet not unwelcome touch. His eyes met hers for a second, ready to apologize and pull away from her, yet she responded with a smile and leaned into him instead. “Thank you for letting me rant like a madwoman tonight.”

“Anytime, Love, although if I may be honest, I’m actually surprised that you contacted me I would have thought that you’d have reached out to a friend in this situation, not to someone you barely know…”

“I don’t know… That’s the thing, I guess. I don’t have a lot of friends here that I feel like I can turn to. I feel like no one really knows me around here and yet there’s a part of me that feels as though I’ve known you forever. I feel like you probably know me better than anyone else and maybe it’s because you haven’t lied to me yet.”

“Why would I lie to you, Swan? I want to get to know you - the real you - not push you away. I can’t speak for the others, but there are times when honesty becomes a double-edged sword. I’m quite certain that your family held what they believed were valid reasons for not being upfront with you. When you’re ready to ask them, I’m certain they’ll provide you with the answers you seek.”

“I suppose...,” she replied, sounding both dejected and hopeful at the same time. “But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to not think about anything… Oh - and I guess I’d better figure out a place to crash. I don’t want to see David’s face tonight or I might punch it and assaulting the Sheriff, even if he is your brother, is probably frowned upon.”

“You’re welcome to join us on the Jolly Roger, if you wish. You can have my quarters and I’ll bunk with with the crew…”

“As lovely as that offer sounds, I really don’t need the town talking about me spending the night on a ship full of sailors. David already thinks you’re a bunch of dirty pirates so I’d rather not give him ammunition. I’ll probably just go sleep on the sofa at the station. Even though Graham’s working tomorrow morning, he won’t care.”

“As you wish,” Killian replied with a mock curtsy before snatching his flask back from her hand and frowning when he discovered it to be nearly empty. “One might wonder who the pirate is here…” he commented with a sinful smirk as he took a swig.

“It’s good rum,” she stated with a dismissive shrug. “I’m usually more of a beer and whiskey girl but that stuff isn’t half bad.”

“And more than half gone,” he scoffed sarcastically before bursting into laughter. Even in her slightly inebriated state, she couldn’t help noticing how his blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Forget whatever ritual Regina and Zelena may have had planned, here was the real magic of the full moon and her drunken little soul almost didn’t want the night to end.

**********

Even though she was feeling only slightly tipsy, Emma consented to allow Killian to walk her to the Sheriff's station, recalling only as she was fumbling for the key to the building’s rear door that she had left her car parked over by the cemetery. Oh well, it would be fine there for the night. She’d go get it tomorrow after she sobered up. Everyone knew that the beat up old Volkswagen belonged to the Deputy so there was no fear that anyone would dare steal it.

At least she’d been alert enough to remember to grab Gold’s potion book before they’d left the park. She was already questioning the veracity of his actual ownership of it and had added the shady pawn shop owner to her list of people she needed to confront over the course of the coming days. Before settling down on the break room sofa, she placed the book safely inside her locker with the incriminating photograph and letter still pressed beneath the cover. Had it been merely a fluke that those telling items had fluttered out of the book when she’d dropped it? Did Gold know they were inside already, sending her on a hunt to locate that specific volume intentionally?

Those were questions that would have to wait until daybreak though as she yawned and stretched out on the faux leather sofa, pulling the royal blue and dark red plaid woven blanket off of the back to cover herself. It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, replaying the night in her mind. She knew she’d probably regret some of the evening’s actions when the sun rose but she dozed off believing the hangover would be well worth it.

As Emma was making herself comfortable in the station’s break room for the night, Killian Jones was taking a leisurely pace on his short trek back to his ship at the harbor, grinning like a complete fool the whole way. He has no idea what to expect from his burgeoning relationship with Emma Swan but he fully intended to relish every moment spent in her company. He tried not to think about the fact that he’d be setting sail in a few days, not looking forward to the departure. He could only hold onto a glimmer of hope that should Emma reciprocate his increasing fondness for her, he would immediately start planning his return voyage to Storybrooke.

By the time he scaled the gangplank well after the midnight hour, he knew only a handful of crew would be awake so it wasn’t at all surprising to find the top deck of the Jolly Roger deserted. He crossed to the hatch above his quarters in a few long strides as he felt the growing chill apparent in the sea breeze. Stooping to raise the hatch, his fingertips scarcely grazed the handle before finding himself struggling to breathe. Eyes widening, he frantically scoured the deck to find the owner of the unseen hands tightening around his throat but found himself still alone under the moonlit sky. He struggled against his invisible assailant, attempting to claw away whatever might be strangling him but to no avail. Unable to even shout for help, he succumbed to the darkness, falling unconscious atop the unopened hatch.

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #cs ff au #witch emma #a simple spell #with another cliffhanger #sorry #well not sorry #more surprises ahead

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wirewitchviolet · 6 years ago

Text

I’d like to talk about Graham for a little bit.

About a month and a half ago, this thing just sort of spontaneously happened that was on the order of the old Jerry Lewis telethons, raising an absolutely jaw-dropping amount of money for an organization called Mermaids, which is great and absolutely deserves to have it. I should clarify before anything further too that I’m using “spontaneously happened” here only to mean absolutely nobody involved had any possible idea that it was going to become the huge thing it became, not that it didn’t do so because of a lot of really impressive work, mainly from Casey Explosion and Dan Olson who both ended up playing producer as guests started hopping in and did phenomenal jobs they can’t get enough credit for.

I am, of course, quite thrilled to see how well that went, particularly since just something like a week prior I’d independently tried to start a charity drive for Mermaids which was... decidedly unsuccessful. And I came oddly close to getting properly involved in this one, because around the time it was at the $1000 mark, “guests” were mainly just people I’m personally friends with and haven’t talked to in a while, I was talking about joining in, but the timing of me getting hold of a microphone and a quiet room and guest coordination shook out weird and I lost my place in line to like, Chelsea Manning and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who I will freely admit were bigger donation draws than me talking to old friends and sharing info about trans charities and transphobic groups trying to undermine them would have been.

One thing I’d have liked to have brought up is the other thing that made the whole event a bit bittersweet, personally. The whole thing was explicitly advertised as existing purely to spite one Graham Linehan, who rather infamously had spearheaded an initiative to undermine funding for Mermaids because these days he is a cartoon villain and defunding a children’s charity was the sort of thing he’s all about now. And I’m saying “now” and “these days” because I have kind of a weird history with Graham. Once upon a time, he was my biggest fan.

No, really. If you don’t believe me, go do a quick twitter search for him mentioning me. It’s a bit surreal to look back on. It was weird to live through at the time too. He started following me at a point where I had something like 10 other twitter followers, and was just super super pumped about literally everything I was writing about, you know, the rise of this group of transphobic fascists weaponizing twitter mobs. I’d start writing something and he’d just pop up in my DMs. Which... OK now it’s weird because I’m the last person the arguable king of all transphobes should be following, but at the time it was also weird because he hadn’t gotten into that and was this famous TV writer.

So first of all, it just sends a chill down my spine any time I see him talking about having trans friends who like him just fine and wondering if he’s still trying to count me there. Because I mean, the last time I actually talked to him it was pretty damn civil. Mainly because I was trying to make a calm rational case explaining that he’d just linked horrifyingly bigoted propaganda out, but I could see him grasping for that straw.

Those prior interactions color the whole thing for me in a really tragic light though. Usually, when you see someone who did a thing you enjoy(ed) tear their face off and reveal a disgusting monster, you get to go “ugh, I can’t believe I never picked up on what a creep this person was the whole time!” but... I personally don’t have that luxury here. At the point I knew him, I can actually say he was a decent, caring guy, willing to stick his neck out in a big big way for worthy causes. He promoted the hell out of everything I wrote for a while, and elevated the voices of a ton of other trans women and other marginalized people under attack from nazis. He really went all in with a pretty big media platform against that crap at a time where it wasn’t especially popular or safe to do so, and he campaigned about as hard as was humanly possible to repeal Ireland’s abortion ban, sharing some really horrifying personal stories which I’d probably still dig out when trying to argue the subject if it wouldn’t be giving oxygen to such a huge bigot. And for whatever it’s worth, that infamous I.T. Crowd episode? Some 6 years after the fact he really was self-conscious about that still, and just sort of... approaching every trans woman he knew one by one to try to explain where he was coming from with it. Which of course is not at all the same thing as apologizing for it, but presumably had he stayed that course, he’d have maybe grabbed some sensitivity readers before the next such bit went to air.

So yeah. My honest assessment of where he was at in late 2014 through early 2015 there is... well-intentioned guy with some blind spots legitimately trying to be a better person and work towards some general trans allyship...

... and then he just suddenly pulled this complete 180, and it’s one of the most chilling things I’ve ever seen. From my perspective, it was like being in a zombie movie where someone gets bit. First they’re fine, then you see a big ol’ red flag (I don’t recall whether the first such was him going to bat for the serial abuser creep we just finally kicked out of tabletop or him linking a post on freaking 4th wave now), and you have this little window of maybe we can cut off the infection before it spreads, and that fails and suddenly you’ve just got this shambling monster wearing the face of a former ally in the fight against them. I suppose a more grounded metaphor would be like comparing it to someone you know joining a cult. every value they had is suddenly gone and they’re just removing themselves from all their old circles to hang out exclusively with these dangerous creeps.

I can’t stress enough that this isn’t me saying “there’s still good in him.” Dude’s out there getting the police showing up at his door because he won’t stop harassing random women and literally organizing letter-writing campaigns to cut the funding to a charity that keeps marginalized children from killing themselves. That is way too far over the cliff to entertain any notion of someone ever crawling back. No my point in all this that moral consistency isn’t anywhere near as solid as people like to tell themselves it is. People can go from vehement anti-fascism to full on fascist over a single conversation with the right recruiter on the right day and there’s really nothing you can do about it but hope you recognize it before your denial starts to amplify the damage.

At least I sure as hell hope there’s nothing else you can do about it because again, this guy was literally my biggest fan before he suddenly flipped, and I don’t want to have to second guess myself about what part of me saying “fascism is bad and trans people don’t deserve this sort of harassment” was sufficiently unclear that a guy hanging on my every word for like a year could get all backwards.

This really isn’t a story with a feel-good moral at the end. I mean, the best spin I can put on it is, moral compasses can break, so be sure to pull yours out regularly and double check that it’s still pointing north, don’t just follow the person ahead of you and assume theirs is working? Make sure you’re familiar with a definition of fascism that doesn’t rely on what costumes someone’s wearing? Bear in mind that the oppressed minority turning out to be the real bullies is just not a thing that happens? Just... don’t ever be like Graham here.

#trans awareness

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