#crook county history center | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dankusner · 6 months ago

Text

Trump tells NRA crowd that gun rights are ‘under siege’

ELECTIONS ’24

He calls Texas his second home, Abbott a ‘hot politician’

Former President Donald Trump, in Dallas to address the National Rifle Association convention, said Saturday that Second Amendment rights were under attack as part of a deterioration of America under President Joe Biden.

“Our Second Amendment is under siege. Our Constitution is being run through the shredder. Our borders are being obliterated,” Trump told convention delegates, who responded with several loud ovations, particularly when he lashed out at Biden.

“It’s time for a president who will replace weakness with strength, turn poverty to prosperity and vanquish Joe Biden’s corrupt tyranny with a great restoration of American freedom,” he said.

Trump used a phrase from his old television show, The Apprentice , to sum up the election in a fiery 100-minute speech that included touches of humor.

“To achieve the future you have to march into the voter booth and tell crooked Joe Biden, ‘Joe, you’re doing a horrible job. You’re a horrible president.’” Trump said. “Like Apprentice , Joe you’re fired. Get out of here, Joe.”

Promises deportation

Trump also promised that as president he will implement history’s largest deportation of undocumented migrants.

“It will be a big one,” he said.

Trump also promised to boost the Texas energy industry.

“Drill baby, drill,” he said.

Before Trump’s NRA speech, his campaign announced a new Gun Owners for Trump coalition led by “over 50 Olympic athletes, firearm industry leaders and Second Amendment advocates.”

And, as expected, NRA officials announced Saturday the group had endorsed Trump.

Democrats criticized Trump’s appearance at the NRA convention, which comes in the same month as the one-year anniversary of the May 6 mass shooting at Allen Premium Outlets, where a man with an AR-15 assault-style weapon killed eight people and injured seven others.

“There is one thing that drives this senseless epidemic — the shameless inaction of the Republican Party that has been bought and paid for by the NRA,” Dallas County Democratic Party Chairman Kardal Coleman said in a statement. “To add insult to injury, the City of Dallas and Texas could pay a combined $1 million in tax-payer dollars to host a convention that does not reflect the values of Dallasites.”

Trump’s Dallas speech offered a respite from his New York trial over whether he committed felony business fraud related to hush money payments to adult film star Stormy Daniels.

On Monday, Trump’s lawyers will continue cross examining Michael Cohen, Trump’s former lawyer and fixer who is central to Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg’s case.

“They want to take away my rights worse than Alphonse Capone,” Trump said. “He got indicted less than I did.”

Throughout his speech Trump praised Texas.

And he told delegates he played golf Saturday with former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo.

youtube

Trump has called Texas, a fundraising hub for his presidential campaigns, his second home.

Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick leads Trump’s Texas campaign and has advised the former president on state issues like border security and energy, as well as helping to make endorsements of statewide and local candidates.

Several high-profile Texans listened to Trump’s speech at the Kay Bailey Hutchison Convention Center, including Patrick and U.S. Reps. Pat Fallon, R-Sherman, and Ronny Jackson, R-Amarillo.

Some Texas Republican House candidates also were there, including David Covey, who’s trying to unseat House Speaker Dade Phelan, R-Beaumont.

Trump called Phelan “an absolutely terrible speaker of the House.” “He didn’t want to go into voter fraud,” Trump said. “He didn’t want to do it. … We have to get the speaker out of there.”

youtube

Trump also praised Gov. Greg Abbott, who addressed the convention before the former president.

“He’s a hot politician,” Trump said of Abbott. “You know why he’s hot? He’s doing a great job.”

Abbott demurs

Trump has said Abbott was on his short list of potential running mates.

Abbott responded that he’s flattered to be considered but is focused on leading Texas.

He is fully engaged in the Texas Republican primaries, using his time and resources to push candidates who support his plan to allow students to use public dollars for private school expenses.

Much of Abbott’s speech was about border security, where he praised Trump and criticized Biden.

“This crisis is about to come to an end in just six months,” Abbott said. That’s when Joe Biden will be fired as president of the United States of America, and Donald Trump will once again become president of the greatest country in the world.”

In his speech Abbott touted Texas legislation that he signed to promote the Second Amendment, including allowing Texans to carry guns without a permit.

By law, Texas is a Second Amendment Sanctuary State, and its agencies and officials are barred from assisting in the implementation of federal gun-control policies.

“Now, more than ever, we must fight to protect our Second Amendment rights,” Abbott said.

youtube

Trump pledges to ‘roll back’ Biden gun rules

ATF chief would be fired, he says at NRA event

DALLAS – Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump pledged to unravel gun regulations put in place by Democratic President Joe Biden during a lengthy speech to the National Rifle Association on Saturday, during which he accepted the influential group’s endorsement.

The address to thousands of NRA members at the group’s annual Leadership Forum in Dallas was light on new policy, but he used the platform to urge gun supporters to go to the polls in the November election.

“We’ve got to get gun owners to vote,” Trump said in his wide-ranging speech, which covered everything from his criminal trials to trade and immigration over more than 90 minutes.

“I think you’re a rebellious bunch. But let’s be rebellious and vote this time.”

The nation’s top gun rights group has now endorsed Trump three times – in 2016, 2020 and 2024.

The organization had cheered on Trump during his 2017-2021 term, as he appointed three conservative justices to the Supreme Court and took a series of steps sought by the gun lobby.

That included designating firearm shops as essential businesses during the COVID-19 pandemic, allowing them to stay open.

During the speech, Trump repeated a pledge to fire the director of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, known as the ATF, on Day One of a potential administration.

He accused that agency, which enforces U.S. gun laws, of being heavy-handed with firearm owners and revoking licenses on frivolous grounds.

Republicans largely oppose stricter gun laws, saying the right to bear arms is established in the U.S. Constitution’s Second Amendment.

That stance has remained fixed even in the face of a steady stream of mass shootings that have led to calls from many Democrats to impose more controls on guns.

“In my second term, we will roll back every Biden attack on the Second Amendment. The attacks are coming fast and furious,” Trump said.

Following the speech, the Biden campaign accused Trump of prioritizing the desires of the gun lobby over public safety. Trump and Biden are set to face off in the general election on Nov. 5.

“Tonight, Donald Trump confirmed that he will do exactly what the NRA tells him to do – even if it means more death, more shootings, and more suffering,” said Biden campaign spokesperson Ammar Moussa.

As in previous addresses, Trump repeated a false claim that he won the 2020 election, and he went after Biden in aggressive terms, repeating claims of corruption that are not supported by available evidence.

Trump also unleashed a torrent of attacks on independent presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is running a distant third and siphoning off votes from both front-runners.

Surveys show gun regulations are a divisive issue in the U.S., though a strong majority of Americans support at least some limits.

In a March Reuters/Ipsos survey, 53% of respondents said the government should regulate gun ownership, while 38% of respondents disagreed.

Among Republicans, only 35% said the government should be involved.

The four-day annual NRA convention gathered tens of thousands of gun enthusiasts and dealers, with many in the heavily Republican crowd wearing Trump gear Saturday, at the annual meeting of the National Rifle Association in Dallas, Texas, Trump floated the idea that he could throw out the constitutional amendment limiting a president to two terms.

“You know, FDR 16 years—almost 16 years—he was four terms. I don’t know, are we going to be considered three-term? Or two-term?” he asked the crowd. Some yelled, “Three!”

Donald Trump tells NRA crowd he wants to retire in Texas

Former President Donald Trump received an ovation at the National Rifle Association’s annual meetings in Dallas on Saturday when he teased that he might relocate to Texas.

“I want to move to Texas and I want to retire in Texas,” Trump said to applause.

Trump is expected back again Wednesday, when he has a scheduled fundraiser in Dallas with oil pipeline company billionaire Kelcy Warren.

and ….

While in the White House, he made 18 trips to the state, and he has returned 13 times after his presidency. By comparison, former President Barack Obama made 11 visits to Texas over two terms in office. Former President Donald Trump said he would consider tapping Ken Paxton for U.S. attorney general if he wins a second term in the White House.

#Youtube

0 notes

yatescountyhistorycenter · 11 months ago

Text

Thayer family: Stories behind their portraits

By Jonathan Monfiletto

Joseph Thayer is back in the Oliver House, right alongside his son. Actually, right off the bat, that sentence is a misnomer.

Joseph Thayer himself never lived in the Oliver House, and Joseph Thayer the painting never was on display in the Oliver House to begin with. Thanks to a grant from the Greater Hudson Heritage Network and the NYSCA/GHHN Conservation Treatment Program, and thanks to the work of conservator Klara Zold, however, Thayer's portrait now hangs in the front parlor of the Oliver House next to a portrait of his son, Joseph J. Thayer. NYSCA/GHHN had previously funded Zold's conservation of the painting of Thayer Jr. as a child.

A third portrait in the group – donated by a descendant of the Thayer family that settled in the town of Milo in Yates County in 1810 – features Thayer's wife, Semantha Bayard (as Stafford C. Cleveland's 1873 “History and Directory of Yates County” renders her name; different sources provide different spellings and versions of her name). The Yates County History Center has a goal to have Mrs. Thayer's painting conserved and displayed alongside those of her son and husband.

Of course, this occasion of having Joseph Thayer's portrait now on display (it had previously been in storage awaiting conservation) in the Oliver House has me interested in learning more about the Thayer family in general who were early settlers of Milo and the Joseph Thayer family in particular who were part of this group. Interestingly, the portrait of Joseph J. Thayer (I refer to him as Thayer Jr. on second reference, but it appears he wasn't a true junior but had a middle initial to distinguish him from his father) depicts him as a young boy – unique to the YCHC collection as a painting of a middle-class child – yet he had a whole life ahead of him at that point and went on to achieve great things, including serving in the Civil War and owning a business in the village of Penn Yan.

Meanwhile, Joseph Thayer (whom I will refer to Thayer Sr. on second reference) appears to have been involved as the contractor in the construction of “the new bridge over the Crooked Lake outlet,” according to the Yates County Chronicle of July 12, 1866 (the Main Street bridge, I would assume, but I'm not certain) and was listed as a candidate for Yates County sheriff the following year. Thayer Sr. submitted a bid to build the Clinton Street bridge – “building a stone arch bridge over Jacob's Brook,” states the Penn Yan Express of June 29, 1870 – but did not receive the contract. The following year, he was appointed county undersheriff but died a few months later.

It all started in 1810, according to Cleveland, with Simeon and Elizabeth Thayer moved from Smithfield, Madison County to Milo five years after they married. Simeon was born in Hoosic, Rensselaer County in 1782 and lived some years in Ballston Springs, Saratoga County before arriving in Smithfield. Simeon married Elizabeth Lucas, who was born in 1786, in 1805. Eventually settling on a farm on the shore of Keuka Lake five miles south of Penn Yan, the couple arrived with two sons – Jacob, born in 1806, and Joseph, born in 1808. Eleven more children followed – James, Samuel, Sally Ann, Simeon, David, William, Laura, Emeline, Reuben, Andrew, and John. “This family is remarkable from the fact that the children are all living, thirteen in number,” Cleveland wrote. “The homestead is still in the family, and all of the members are respectable citizens.” The family was also remarkable in the fact that – before the term was coined, which apparently happened in 1931 by James Truslow Adams – its members lived the American Dream. According to Cleveland, Simeon Thayer came to Yates County as a poor man, sharing a yoke of oxen with another man and having one dollar in his pocket. Half of the dollar paid for a bushel of corn, and the other half paid for a gallon of whiskey to raise a log house (how you raise a house with whiskey, I don't know; was the whiskey payment for the builder of the house?). Nevertheless, Simeon Thayer's “children and grandchildren are now paying taxes on a thousand acres of land in Milo,” Cleveland wrote.

Born July 22, 1808, Thayer Sr. married Semantha Bayard – born in 1818 the daughter of Joshua Bayard – on March 29, 1838. Coming from a family of 13 children, Thayer Sr. and his wife had just one child – son Joseph J. Thayer, born November 30, 1842. In turn, Thayer Jr. married Mary F. Clark – born 1851 in Varick, Seneca County – on April 10, 1879 and had just one child, a daughter. Virginia P. Thayer was born 1885 and died September 7, 1879; she is buried in Fayette, Seneca County.

While Joseph Thayer is listed as the contractor on the bridge over the outlet, an item in the Express of March 13, 1867 shows Joseph J. Thayer being paid $15.00 for “labor on bridge.” It was difficult to distinguish between Thayer Sr. and Thayer Jr. in my search through the digitized newspapers, so maybe Thayer Jr. was the contractor on the bridge – he would have been in his mid-20s at the time – or maybe be assisted his father in the work. On the note of difficulty distinguishing between father and son, the Chronicle of August 29, 1867 lists Joseph Thayer as a candidate for sheriff in that fall's election, but an item signed by Joseph J. Thayer in the Chronicle of September 26, 1867 states he is not a candidate and the report is false. Nevertheless, both Thayer Sr. and Thayer Jr. seem to have been actively involved in civic and political causes around Yates County and ran for several local offices each. Thayer Sr. served as undersheriff, by appointment, while Thayer Jr. served as Milo town clerk in the 1890s.

In August 1864, Co. C of the 59th New York State Militia volunteered for 100 days of service and was mustered on August 25 to become Co. H. of the 58th NGSNY (National Guard of the State of New York). With Thayer Jr. among them, the soldiers of this unit served as prison guards at Elmira and conducted drafted men and substitutes to the front. Twenty two years old at the time, Thayer Jr. and his comrades were mustered out at Elmira on December 3, 1864.

Prior to being called up for military service during the Civil War, Thayer Jr. formed a partnership with E.B. Bunnell in a grocery store that was located on Main Street in Penn Yan. An advertisement for the partnership touting “New Firm and New Grocery Store” ran for the first time in the Chronicle of June 23, 1864 and appeared in the newspaper nearly weekly for nearly a year – a time period that would have encompassed Thayer Jr.'s service. On May 4, 1865, an item titled “Noticed of Dissolution” appeared, as Bunnell & Thayer announced it had dissolved by mutual consent. In a separate item, Thayer Jr. stated he would continue the business on his own. Meanwhile, Bunnell said he would go to work for the dry goods establishment operated by Myron Hamlin and his sons. Thayer Jr. closed his business altogether three years later, as announced in the Chronicle of April 29, 1869.

Subsequently, as announced in the Chronicle of July 27, 1870, Thayer Jr. became the clerk of the Benham House, “rapidly gaining popularity with the traveling public who become guests of the house.” Meanwhile, when Thayer Sr. was appointed undersheriff, the Chronicle of January 12, 1871 called the moment “handsome recognition of one of the staunchest Bolters in the County” – a Bolter being someone who “bolted” from the Republican party ticket, in 1867 according to this item, and rejected the party's candidates and platform. Thayer Sr. apparently had returned to the Republican party to run for sheriff in 1870, seeing the major party support as his best chance to get elected. Nevertheless, “This shows that the Bolters are right good fellows after all,” the newspaper stated.

Thayer Sr.'s tenure as undersheriff was brief. On May 2, 1871, at 4 in the afternoon, the undersheriff was struck by paralysis (perhaps a stroke) while on the sidewalk in front of the Jones & Lown store. Though he revived somewhat soon after, he died that evening at age 63. “He was not born in this town, but nearly all his life was spent here, and he was well known to the people of Yates county. He was a quiet, peaceable citizen, of good habits and good character,” the Chronicle of May 4, 1871 eulogized. “Many friends and a large circle of relatives mourn his decease.” His wife Semantha survived him for another 11 years, dying in 1882.

Coincidentally, Thayer Jr. also died of paralysis at nearly the same age, being stricken the morning of June 10, 1910 and dying later that day. He died at his home in Waterloo, Seneca County, having moved first to Varick and then to Waterloo a few years before his death. His wife Mary survived for 26 more years, dying in 1936.

#historyblog #history #museum #archives #american history #us history #local history #newyork #yatescounty #pennyan #milony #thayer #family #portrait #painting

1 note · View note

3thurs · 2 years ago

Text

hird Thursday events and exhibitions for April 20

The next Third Thursday — the monthly evening of art in Athens, Georgia — is scheduled for Thursday, April 20, from 6 to 9 p.m. All exhibitions are free and open to the public. This schedule and each venue’s location and hours of operation are available at 3thurs.org.

Georgia Museum of Art, University of Georgia

Yoga in the Galleries, 6 p.m. — Join us for a free yoga class surrounded by works of art in the galleries. Led by instructors from Five Points Yoga, this program is free and open to both beginner and experienced yogis. Sanitized mats are provided. Space is limited and spots are available on a first-come, first-served basis; tickets are available at the front desk starting at 5:15 p.m.

On view:

“Art is a form of freedom” — This exhibition results from a collaborative project that brought works of art from the museum’s collection into classrooms at Whitworth Women’s Facility, a prison in north Georgia. The incarcerated women there selected the works in this exhibition and wrote prose and poetry in response to them.

“Object Lessons in American Art: Selections from the Princeton University Art Museum” — This exhibition features four centuries of works from the Princeton University Art Museum that collectively explore American history, culture and society.

“Sky Hopinka: Lore” — Images of friends and landscapes are cut, fragmented and reassembled on an overhead projector as hands guide their shape and construction in this video work stemming from Hollis Frampton’s 1971 experimental film “Nostalgia.”

“In Dialogue: Henry Ossawa Tanner, Mentor and Muse” — This focused exhibition highlights Black artist Henry Ossawa Tanner’s impact on several younger artists: Palmer C. Hayden, William H. Johnson, William Edouard Scott and Hale Woodruff.

“Decade of Tradition: Highlights from the Larry D. and Brenda A. Thompson Collection” — Selections from Larry and Brenda Thompson’s gift of works by African American artists.

“Power and Piety in 17th-Century Spanish Art” — Works by premiere Spanish baroque painters such as Francisco de Zurbarán, Bartolomé Murillo, Pedro Orrente and others, on loan from Bob Jones University Museum & Gallery.

The museum’s days of operation are Tuesday – Sunday. Reserve a free ticket and see our policies at https://georgiamuseum.org/visit/.

ATHICA: Athens Institute for Contemporary Art

ATHICA@675 Pulaski St., Suite 1200

“Solo: New Works by Heather Deyling” — ATHICA's Spring 2023 exhibition features the work of Atlanta-based artist Heather Deyling, whose colorful and playful sculptures, wall works and installations animate the gallery. Her “invented hybrids” live in a world where plants and animals are undifferentiated and freely swap characteristics.

ATHICA@CINÉ Gallery

Posters for the 1980s Athens band Limbo District, designed by Bill Georgia and reprinted by Henry Owings, in conjunction with the screening of Jim Herbert's Limbo District art film “Carnival” on April 15.

Lyndon House Arts Center

Artist Talks 3: 48th Juried Exhibition, 6 p.m. — Carolyn Schew, Sebastian Granados, Jessica Crooks and Shelby Little.

On view:

“48th Juried Exhibition” — Maria Elena Ortiz, curator at the Modern in Fort Worth, Texas, reviewed 682 works of art by 245 Athens-area artists and selected 154 works by 107 local artists.

“Breathing Room: artist employees of r wood studio” —This exhibition features paintings and ceramics by Rebecca Wood alongside works by “employee artists” past and present.

“The Green Life Art Exhibition” — The Green Life Art Contest is an annual art contest geared towards K-12 students that falls under the larger umbrella of the Athens-Clarke County Green Life Awards. Organized by several ACCGov divisions focused on environmental education and sustainability, the Green Life Awards recognize environmental leaders in our community, and the art contest has been a piece of this program for over 10 years.

“Collections from Our Community: Typewriters from the Collections of Mike Kilpatrick, Tatiana Veneruso, Mike Landers and Lauren Fancher”

The Athenaeum

“RE:(DE)CONSTRUCTION” — A circular and continuous call and response presenting the work of 11 MFA students who studied at the Lamar Dodd School of Art for the past three years. Starting their program during the height of the pandemic, these artists have witnessed and participated in a deep re-examination of the structures that govern society. Through their various material experiments in video, painting, print, photography, metals, clay and sound they share a commitment to reconfiguring and reinventing new ways of being in the world. Artists in the exhibition include: AJ Aremu, Mickey Boyd, Zahria Cook, J Diamond, Shaunia Grant, Chad Hayward, Huey Lee, Jason Rafferty, Rachel Seburn, Ethan Snow and Lee Villalobos.

The Classic Center

“FLOURISH” — Featuring artists inspired by our botanical world. Petals abound in painter Dallis Foshee’s vibrant compositions. Mary Mason Sams steps out into her garden, clipping bouquets to inspire her expressive compositions. Marisa Mustard takes a more graphic approach in her flower-power, spray painted paintings. And Zahria Cook's vine-like abstraction undulates and twists like kudzu taking over.

“Paintings by Bess Carter” — Bess investigates and delights in interior spaces and the meaningful items we use to decorate and activate our homes. A charming collection of paintings with beautiful, thoughtful details. On view in Classic Gallery II on the second floor.

ACE / FRANCISCO Gallery and OX Fine ART

“Hearts in Repair: The Necessity of Seduction” — Recent mixed media work by Karen Graffeo, a multi-media artist active in photography, performance and installation. Graffeo will be creating a unique installation of “Hearts in Repair” for ACE / FRANCISCO Gallery in Suite 1500 of the Leathers Building, 675 Pulaski Street, and work from her life in Cuba will be shown concurrently at OX Fine Art in Suite 1700 of the Leathers Building. The artist will be present at both galleries on April 20.

tiny ATH gallery

Due to popular demand, Tim Root's exhibition will have a final closing event during Third Thursday from 6-9. Join the artist, and for the evening "DJ Root," for a record listening and art party.

—

Third Thursday was established in 2012 to encourage attendance at Athens’ established art venues through coordination and co-promotion by the organizing entities.

Contact: Michael Lachowski, Georgia Museum of Art, [email protected].

#athensga #visitathensga #uga #georgiamuseum #free #art #georgia #exploregeorgia

0 notes

mojave-pete · 4 years ago

Text

What Would It Take to Convince You The Election Was Rigged?

By AL PERROTTA Published on November 10, 2020 • 2 Comments

Al Perrotta

Yesterday I laid out, with the help of the BBC and State Department, the six signs to look for when determining if an election was stolen.

There is some indisputable evidence — and many very suggestive indications — that each of those conditions for concluding fraud in this election has been met. But many still refuse to even entertain the idea that this election was as crooked as a witch’s nose. After she’s been in 100 MMA fights. And fell from her broom flat onto her face.

The media and Big Tech sensors are working overtime to crush the evidence. So a lot of people don’t even know what is being alleged in sworn affidavits. I desperately want to believe that people, if presented the evidence, will accept it. Or at the very least be open to it, awaiting further confirmation. Please tell me my belief is not unfounded.

But before we get there, I want to ask a simple question:

Remember that a) lying in a sworn affidavit to a court is a crime. And b) doing anything that is seen as helping Trump will subject you to all manner of hell. In light of that, do you believe the countless witnesses who now have sworn to seeing illegal activity leading up to and through the election would lie?

Would Any of This Be Right?

Now, for those fair-minded people who support Biden, may I ask a few questions? Do you believe

It would be wrong for election supervisors to coach workers to correct mail-in ballots for Biden, but not for Trump?

That it would also be wrong for election workers to coach voters to vote for Biden and Democrats, and follow them to the ballot station?

It would be wrong for poll workers to go out to a Biden-Harris van in the middle of the night and fill out ballots?

That it would be likewise wrong for poll workers to fill in the names of people who hadn’t yet voted when a “voter” comes in who is not on the voter rolls?

It’s wrong for poll workers to ignore matching signature requirements?

That it’s wrong for counting centers to keep Republican poll watchers from observing hundreds of thousands of mail-in ballots?

It was wrong for Philadelphia Democrats to ignore a court order that demanded poll watchers have their rightful access?

That it’s wrong for a Democratic- controlled ballot-counting center Fulton County, Georgia to tell GOP observers they were done counting for the night … then resume counting the minute the observers left?

It was wrong for Nevada voting officials to fabricate proof of residence data for non-eligible voters?

That it was likewise wrong for postal supervisors in several states to order workers to post-date late arriving ballots, so it would falsely appear they arrived on time?

It is wrong to cast ballots using the dead?

That it is wrong to count ballots from people ineligible to vote in a particular state?

It is wrong for a state supreme court to ignore state law and the U.S. constitution to change the voting rules right before an election? Rules guaranteed to make the process more susceptible to fraud?

Each of those statements is asserted in 131 sworn affidavits from poll workers, poll watchers and whistleblowers or happened in broad daylight.

Please Support The Stream

: Equipping Christians to Think Clearly About the Political, Economic and Moral Issues of Our Day.

So please answer me honestly: How many of these wrongs laid out in lawsuits are you willing to outright dismiss? Doesn’t fairness dictate you at least listen to what these people have to say? How many people must swear under penalty of imprisonment for perjury before you acknowledge the vote tallies are horribly tarnished?

Would Any of This Be Suspicious?

Now, my Biden-supporting (or Trump-hating) friends, can we do a little gut check? Aren’t you a little bit queasy about …

Tens of thousands of ballots suddenly appearing from out-of-state with only the presidential race filled out … and all filled out for Joe Biden?

Hundreds of thousands of votes popping up overnight election night … after the inexplicable halt in counting … in some places, 100% for Joe Biden?

Philadelphia, a city notorious for election fraud, absolutely refusing to let Republican observers anywhere near the people handling mail-in ballots?

In several states, piles of Trump votes suddenly getting taken from him, then the same exact number suddenly popping up for Biden?

Dominion, the company behind the election system used in these states, being connected to the Clinton Foundation and George Soros?

Dozens of states accepting Dominion’s system, despite its security weaknesses being so evident that Texas rejected it three times?

The Associated Press reporting just last year that Dominion and its sister companies “had long skimped on security in favor of convenience and operated under a shroud of financial and operational secrecy despite their critical role in elections.”

Lindsay Graham’s report on evidence of a ballot harvesting operation at Pennsylvania nursing homes which could have netted Biden 25,000 votes? (Ballot harvesting is illegal in Pennsylvania.)

Biden vote totals in specific swing cities … and nowhere else … exceeding Obama’s by up to 40%?

Vote tallies for Biden in Milwaukee exceeding Obama’s 2008 landslide … despite Milwaukee having fewer people than it did in 2008? (And despite Donald Trump greatly increasing his share of the minority vote.)

Joe Biden underperforming Hillary Clinton almost everywhere … except in a couple crucial swing state cities … and only after counting in those states was halted?

Joe Biden handily losing bell-weather states Florida and Ohio, but somehow defying history and won? This despite very little campaigning, a non-existent ground game, and a campaign message that ran counter to the economic interests of the American people.

Honesty is the Path to Unity

Yes, it is possible a good percentage of people could go, “I don’t care. Orange Man Bad.” But I want to believe that a majority of Biden voters will be honest enough to check their dislike of Trump long enough to acknowledge the reality of all the smoke, and the possibility of fire.

That they would rather have an honest count of legitimate — and only legitimate — votes. And they would want to see those who have committed fraud punished.

I hope they agree that the only path to re-unifying the country is the assurance of an honest count. And it is worth a few weeks of time to check it all out.

Even if Orange Man is Bad, a Stolen Election is far, far worse.

Al Perrotta is the Managing Editor of The Stream and co-author, with @JZmirak, of The Politically Incorrect Guide to Immigration. You can follow him at @StreamingAl. And if you aren’t already, please follow The Stream at @Streamdotorg.

1K notes · View notes

themuseic · 4 years ago

Text

Only Fools (Chapter 8)

(Art Credit: @clumsycopy)

Fic Summary: Sent to Boone County, West Virginia on an assignment, you find yourself engulfed your work. How could you possibly find time for anything else? Even if “anything else” includes the tall, kind, and handsome bartender from down the road?

Word Count: 2.8k

Read Chapter 7 here.

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: Fluff, obscene amounts of fluff. Alcohol mention, but no explicit consumption.

Author’s Note: Okay, I really do think I’m back now. If that isn’t the case, apologies in advance. If it is the case, hi! I’m excited to catch up on things! Also, this chapter has references to a song that was also used by @aloneandsleepless in her one-shot Elvis. If you haven’t read that yet, PLEASE do. It’s so beautifully written and well worth the read. As always, thank you for reading, love you all.

It had been the talk of the town all week. All month really.

You knew that towns had traditions, and you had just brushed it off as such. But when you brought up the winter festival to Clyde, the sheer excitement on his face let you know that the celebration at the diner was far from just an ordinary Saturday night on the town. It was the spirit of the holidays in Boone County, the hotly anticipated to-do. “People come from all over,” Clyde explained in between mouthfuls of burnt bacon, from where he sat across from you at the trailer table. “Even come down from Charlotte, if you can believe that.”

You whistled. “Sounds like quite the party. And it’s this week?”

“Yup, on Friday,” Clyde nodded. “I’m gonna be closing the bar that night to go. I don’t think I’d get too many customers that night anyway.” He shuffled his feet along the linoleum floor. “Actually darlin’, I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Suddenly, Clyde clammed up, almost afraid to get his next words out.

“Yes, Clyde? You know you can ask me anything.” His hesitation almost made you nervous. Though he tended to be a quieter soul, rarely did words fail him when the two of you were alone. He exhaled and steeled himself for his query. “Well, I was wonderin’ if you’d like to be my date.” You stopped. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that blanketed the trailer. Realization of what he had asked hit you all at once, and you broke into hearty guffaws. A smile so big it nearly hurt you plastered itself across your face. At that reaction, Clyde visibly relaxed, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

“Clyde, we have quite literally been sleeping together for two months now.” He blushed a deep red and his lower lip pushed forward into the smallest pout. “Well, I didn’t want to assume, and I know we’re sleeping together but…” You shushed him by placing your finger onto the center of his plump lips. “Clyde, I think it’s cute. Of course I’ll be your date.” You closed the distance between you, flung your arms around his neck, and pulled him into a soft kiss. Clyde smiled against you and returned the kiss with vigor, his lips parting slightly as he pushed his face into yours. He pulled back with a smack, and his forehead came to rest on your own. A swift smack landed on your ass and you yelped. “C’mon darlin’, let’s get this cleaned up so we can go get that trail cam footage,” Clyde muttered as he squeezed you softly.

~~~

The town was blanketed in a plush layer of crisp white snow. It lay in piles on rooftops and cars, on street corners and it lined the pathways that people swathed in layers of coats and scarves meandered down. It was everything you expected from a small town holiday, but it was far from gauche. It was crystal clear why the Logan family was so eager to attend.

With little care to watch the ground you walked on, you misstepped and yelped as your foot hit a patch of ice that threatened to slide your legs apart into a swift split. “Woah there!” Clyde jumped, hooking his arm under your armpit to keep you upright. You laughed at yourself as you held onto his thick arm to catch your footing. “Can’t seem to keep myself standing huh?” you joked, peering up at him. He chuckled, with an almost imperceptible eye roll. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble one day from not watchin’ your surroundings, darlin’,” he tsk’ed, prompting you to stick your tongue out at him. Clyde shook his head with a small smile, and helped you right yourself.

You stepped forward without letting go of his arm, and he squeezed your elbow into the crook of his arm to acknowledge your clutch on him. You could feel your face warm and you dropped your gaze to smile at the ground.

~~~

The diner was warm and packed full of people. Clyde shielded you from the patrons as you pushed your way to the counter, eager to nab a winter drink to warm your insides. Once situated at the bar, he called out your order to a worker that seemed overjoyed to see Clyde. You laughed. “You know just about everyone in this town, huh Clyde?” He shrugged, passing you a steaming mug. “Comes with havin’ one of the only bars in the area,” he winked, and raised your mug to his lips.

Clyde stood behind you at the bar while you sipped your drink, acting as a human wall to halt people from trampling your feet, with his hand resting on your waist. He pointed out all the people that he knew and provided a small anecdote for each one, almost as if he was providing his own personal, albeit abbreviated, history of Boone County. You could listen to him talk forever, his honeyed words soothing to your ears over the cacophony of the diner.

“Hey gal!” you heard a voice call from across the diner, breaking you from your unwavering gaze at Clyde. You turned to see Mellie bounding towards you, Jimmy, Sylvia, and Joe close behind her. Jimmy was carrying a young blonde girl on his shoulder, and you assumed it was Clyde’s niece. Cynthia? Samantha?

“Hey lil’ Sadie!” Clyde called from over your shoulder. Sadie! That was it, you chided yourself mentally. Mellie rushed up to you and flung her arms around your neck and pulled you into a crushing hug. “Hey Mel,” you and Clyde responded in unison, your voice airy as Mellie squeezed your breath from your chest. With your head tucked onto her shoulder as you returned her embrace, you looked back to acknowledge the rest with a smile and their respective name. “And you must be Miss Sadie, huh?” you inquired as you pulled away from Mellie and turned to the young girl, who looked remarkably like her father, with her nose and ears tipped red with the cold.

“Yes ma’am!” she crowed, her hands dug into Jimmy’s short hairs. You noticed her hands clench on his hair and she dipped her head to glance at him for just a moment, a devious smile across her face. “And are you Uncle Clyde’s girlfriend?” Clyde choked behind you, and you glanced behind yourself to look up at him. He was pale white and glaring straight at Jimmy, who was desperately trying to insist he had nothing to do with his daughter’s question, however unconvincing his protests were.

You didn’t blame him. Two months of living together, and you and Clyde had yet to define your relationship. You didn’t really mind it. You knew that putting it off would dull the sting of your eventual departure. But how could you even begin to explain that to a child? Oh no, not his girlfriend, just the girl he sleeps with, the girl he takes out, the girl he fucks. The girl who can’t commit. That wouldn’t do. So instead, you motioned for Sadie to jump off of her father’s shoulders, bent down to her height, took her hands in your own, and said, “Well yes, I am Clyde’s girlfriend.”

The stifled gasps of Mellie and Sylvia were almost silent to your ears as you glanced back at Clyde. He was still white as a sheet, but his eyes flicked from Jimmy’s to yours, and the hint of a smile began to break through his blank expression. You straightened to your full height and turned to face him, chewing your cheek. “That is, if that’s what you want,” you whispered, searching his face for a hint of how he might feel.

Clyde’s next words were more a soft breath than a whisper. “Yes darlin’. I’d like that very much.” You beamed, and he slunk his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his body and into a kiss so deep your heart just about stopped in your chest.

You melted into his touch and sighed, your hands threading through his thick hair. His family, his friends, and the strangers that surrounded you melted from your consciousness, and not even the hoots and hollers of Clyde’s family drowned out the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your chest. It was perfect.

A small clearing of a throat reminded you that you were, in fact, in public, and you hastily broke from Clyde, opting to rest the side of your face on his chest instead. Jimmy shook his head, chuckling at the scene before him. “Congrats you two lovebirds, glad y’all finally decided to make this thing official,” he whistled, lifting Sadie up in one swift motion to set her perched back upon his shoulder. Mellie reached out to squeeze your arm tenderly. You laughed. “Took us long enough, I guess.” Clyde hummed and squeezed you tight, his cheek resting on your head.

“Welp,” Jimmy continued. “I promised Sadie here we’d go on the Ferris Wheel so we could see the stars. Y’all care to join us?” Clyde peered down his angular nose to look at you cross-eyed and raised his eyebrows. “What’dya say?” You grinned. “We’d love to.”

~~~

It was a joy to run around the festival with the Logan clan. Acting as your personal tour guide, Sadie babbled to you about her favorite things at the fair. She grabbed your hand to pull your attention to whatever she deemed worthy of pointing out. Sadie bragged how she was the reigning champ of the ring toss, and how she wasn’t tall enough to go on the Scrambler yet, but the moment she could she was going to ride it the whole festival, which was easy to believe given her tenacity and spunk. Mellie passed you a never-ending stream of warm winter drinks - ”Spiked if you’d like,” she’d wink - and Jimmy, Sylvia, and Joe were cracking jokes nonstop. But what really made the night perfect was Clyde.

Your sweet Clyde. He held your hand in his mitt of a hand, squeezing it randomly, pulling you in for kisses both short and sweet, and long and deep. You were sure you would get dirty looks from the festival attendants after you nearly devoured each other on the Ferris Wheel, but you really couldn’t care less. Clyde teased you and you teased him back, keeping up a line of banter that was so easy. At one point in the night, the two of you found yourselves separated from the rest of the Logan clan, cozied up by yourselves in a booth. You both warmed your hands with a cup of hot chocolate cradled in your grasp.

“You having’ fun?” Clyde murmured into your ear, his arm slung around your shoulder. You nodded into him and tucked yourself up into the nook of his shoulder. Clyde’s arm outstretched to grasp his mug and lifted it to his lips to take a huge swig. You palmed the warm beverage in your hand, feeling the warmth radiate through your body from where you held it, and where Clyde was pressed to your side.

You gazed up at Clyde, your hands and heart warmed and full. Clyde smiled at you, his eyes falling softly to trace the features of your face. For how often he pouted, you had yet to see one flit across his face all night. Something flashed in his eyes, and before you knew it, Clyde’s finger was dipped into the mound of whipped cream atop his beverage and he snapped it up to your face to dollop it right on the end of your nose. “Hey!” you exclaimed, pushing away from his chest just a hair as a laugh bubbled up your throat. “You’re a menace,” you laughed, as you made no move to wipe the cream from your nose.

Clyde snickered and you swatted at his arm, pulling a yelp that feigned offense from him. “What’s that for now? You look cute as hell with a lil’ nose decoration,” he shrugged as he squeezed your shoulder and jabbed your side with the metal tines of his prosthetic. You smiled at each other, your eyes hazy with bliss. Suddenly, his profile was illuminated and you could see a bright flash out of the corner of your eye. With squinted eyes, you turned to the source.

A beaming Sadie, clutching a disposable camera in her small hands, sat across from the two of you in the booth. It seemed that not even the squeak of the vinyl as she had climbed into the booth was enough to pull your attention from the trance you were drifting through, and you both jumped at her arrival.

“Scared the living daylight out of me,” Clyde sighed, his hand coming up to clutch at his heart with drama.

“Sorry Uncle Clyde, but I couldn’t help it,” she whined, “You two looked so cute and cozy!” You scrunched your nose up and wiggled the tip. “How can I be cozy with this cream stuck on me?” Clyde laughed a low chuckle from deep in his chest that made him rumble against you. He leaned in and bumped his nose with yours. When he pulled away, a dot of whipped cream was left at the very end of his nose. He grinned.

“Oh my gosh. This is such a good shot!” Sadie squealed. “Get close! Let me take another photo!”

Clyde’s arm tightened around you and pulled you closer into his side. You were mid laugh when the second burst of light broke across your vision and the click of a camera made it feel as though time had halted.

You knew that your time in Boone County was temporary. But you knew you would live with that memory forever.

~~~

The lightest flecks of white tumbled through the air, catching on the light of the street lamps and stringed bulbs that were hung throughout the parking lot that acted as the festival's main drag. Most of the attendees had begun their individual treks home or had moved into the warm haven of the diner. Large fishbowl windows gave you view into the crowded establishment through clear, unfogged stretches of glass. The cheers and merry yells of toasts and memories being made rang out over the empty courtyard, ringing free until they were absorbed by the snow.

Instead of being pressed up against the townsfolk or against the windows as your feet stumbled across the toes of others, you and Clyde were leaned against a tree across the courtyard of the festival. You gazed skyward, watching the small flakes of snow swirl through the sky. Music lilted through the air and fell lightly on your ears. A familiar chord rang through the air and grabbed your attention. You felt a nudge on your side. You looked up to meet Clyde’s crinkled eyes as he gazed down at you. “Want to dance darlin’?” he murmured as he trailed his fingers up and down your arm.

“Yes please Clyde.” He beamed back at you and took your hand in his as he pushed his back off of the tree. Snow crunched underfoot as you wandered to the dance floor. It was a small area of interlocked wooden panels, slightly obscured by a thin sheet of snow. Clyde offered his hand up to you in a grandiose gesture. A small laugh bubbled up in your chest as you slipped your hand into his, and he pulled you tight to his chest and began to sway.

Clyde’s voice rumbled against your face where it was pressed against his chest as he asked, “So whatcha think, sweetheart? Think Boone County can throw a good lil’ winter party?”

You nodded immediately. “Absolutely. This is so beautiful Clyde,” you sighed with content. A voice crooned over the speakers and the lyrics rang out over the courtyard.

“Wise men say…”

“You look so perfect, you know that?” Clyde crooned, raising his hand to brush the side of your face with the tips of his fingers.

“... only fools rush in…”

“So do you, Clyde.”

“But I can’t help…”

It was warm in his arms. Secure. You felt as if you were in another plane of existence. Tucked in his arms, you were hidden from the world. Safe.

“Falling in love with you.”

Clyde spun sharply with you in his arms, swiftly grabbing your attention. He looked down his long lashes at you, gazing deeply into your eyes with his intense amber gaze. “Sweetheart, I…” he cleared his throat, and lifted his hand to palm the side of your face again. He ran his thumb over your cheekbone. “I just want… You don’t have to say it back. But… I want to tell you…” he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I love you.”

Your breath halted in your chest. Your stomach swooped. No one had made such an admission to you in… well, you weren’t sure just how long. Before you had a chance to admit that you were speechless, Clyde pulled you into a mind bending kiss. You melted into him. It wouldn’t matter what you said. You were his and he was yours. The snow fell silently around you, and the two of you swayed together quietly.

~~~

Have a winter drink! Thank you to my Irish friends (love y'all!) for direction on the recipe <3 my favorite suggestion was "Coffee+Whisky, add in other shite as it pleases ya". ~~~ My lil’ take on an Irish Coffee:

As much hot coffee as you'd like. As much whisky as you'd like. Brown Sugar to taste. Fresh whipped cream to top off. (HIGHLY recommend whipping your cream. My favorite way to do it is 1 c. heavy whipping cream, 1 c. sugar, and a splash of vanilla extract, whipped to peaks. Don't overmix though, don't make sweet butter!)

Combine the coffee, whisky, and sugar. Stir, and top with whipped cream. A dash of cinnamon over top never hurt anyone either!

~~~

Taglist: @mind-p0llution @thedivinemissm @clydesducktape @finn-ray-nal-beads @ladygrey03 @desiraypark @1800-fight-me @aloneandsleepless @hopeamarsu (Comment or message me to be added or removed!)

#only fools #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x femme reader #my writing

47 notes · View notes

96thdayofrage · 3 years ago

Text

In December 1941, a few days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the U.S. entry into World War II, a Detroit mother named Sylvia Tucker visited her local Red Cross donor center to give blood.

Having heard the “soul-stirring” appeals for blood donors on her radio, she was determined to do her part. But when she arrived at the center, the supervisor turned her away. “Orders from the National Offices,” he explained, “barred Negro blood donors at this time.”

“Shocked” and “grieved,” Tucker left in tears, later penning a letter of protest about the whole ordeal to first lady Eleanor Roosevelt.

Today, this discriminatory blood program and African-Americans’ determined opposition to it are long forgotten, despite the fact that a few scholars, including Spencie Love, Susan E. Lederer, Sarah E. Chinn, and myself, have explored the topic.

Don’t let yourself be misled. Understand issues with help from experts.

This history is worth remembering. It provides an antidote to facile, feel-good stories about the “Good War,” stories that scholars such as Michael C.C. Adams and Kenneth D. Rose have long refuted but that live on in museum exhibits, blockbuster films, best-selling books and war memorials.

The story of how blood got desegregated also reminds Americans that, as novelist Ralph Ellison wrote nearly a half-century ago, “The black American … puts pressure upon the nation to live up to its ideals.”

Historian Robin D.G. Kelley puts it more broadly: “The marginal and excluded have done the most to make democracy work in America.”

In an age of resurgent racism, Ellison’s and Kelley’s words are especially important and timely.

‘A tremendous thing’

The Red Cross Blood Donor Program began in early 1941 – and went on to collect blood from millions of Americans that the military shipped to soldiers fighting overseas.

“If I could reach all America,” asserted General Dwight D. Eisenhower at the end of the war, “there is one thing I would like to do – thank them for blood plasma and whole blood. It has been a tremendous thing.”

Tremendous indeed: The blood program saved many lives. But it also initially excluded African-American donors like Sylvia Tucker. When it did accept them, in January 1942, it did so on a segregated basis.

Never mind that scientists saw no relationship between race and blood and that one of the world’s leading authorities on blood banking at the time, and the director of the Red Cross’s pilot blood program, was an African-American scientist named Dr. Charles Drew. Never mind that Nazi Germany had its own Aryan-only blood policy or that America’s principal rhetorical war aims concerned democracy and freedom.

To what extent military commanders segregated blood in the field was, during the war and afterwards, a matter of some debate. Officially, at least, the distinction between bloods remained in place for years. It was not until 1950 that the Red Cross stopped requiring the segregation of so-called Negro blood. And it was not until the late 1960s and early 1970s that Southern states such as Arkansas and Louisiana overturned similar requirements.

A forgotten civil rights struggle

In one internal memorandum, the Red Cross called its donor program democratic, since “the point of view of the majority … ” – which its leaders assumed demanded blood segregation – “must be taken into account in a democracy.”

But many blacks and their allies had a very different idea about democracy, one that required all citizens be treated equally and without regard to race. They fought tirelessly throughout the war years to make that idea a reality, not simply in the military, in the workplace and in Hollywood films but also in the blood program.

These many battles constituted a nascent, surging, and, today, too-often-overlooked civil rights struggle that helped pave the way for the more famous movement of the postwar years.

Nearly all the major civil rights organizations of the day, including the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the March on Washington Movement and even the upstart Committee (later, Congress) of Racial Equality, made changing blood policy a top priority. One statement from a group of the nation’s most prominent black leaders put it this way:

“In justice to what we know to be the practically unanimous sentiment among Negroes in America, we affirm the need for alteration of the segregated blood plasma policy.”

Black newspapers, enormously popular and important at time, also protested blood segregation and exclusion, regularly featuring front-page stories, boldface headlines and blistering editorials on the subject.

In January 1942, for example, the African-American weekly the Cleveland Call and Post published an “editorial in rhyme”:

“The cross of Red, that burned so bright

In fire, storm and flood

Is now the crooked Nazi sign

That spurns a Negro blood!”

Wide-ranging activists

Activism on this issue extended well beyond these traditional places.

Labor unions, Christian and Jewish groups, local interracial committees, scientific organizations and the New Jersey State Legislature all spoke out against blood segregation.

The Communist Party of Cuyahoga County in Ohio held a rally of 3,500 people, condemning blood policy as “Barbarian Hitlerism.”

An interracial group of precocious junior high schoolers at Harlem’s Public School 43 tested (with the help of their science teachers) the blood of a black student and of a white student. Finding no difference, they wrote an article in the school paper, made and distributed hundreds of posters, and held a public meeting – all in opposition to the Red Cross policy.

The most widespread form of protest, however, came from thousands of ordinary African-Americans who refused to donate blood and money to the Red Cross.

While roughly 10 percent of the U.S. population at the time, blacks made up less than 1 percent of all blood donors.

African-Americans contributed generously to the Treasury Department’s Defense Bonds: It is not a lack of patriotism that explains their halfhearted response to blood drives. The reason was a determined opposition to race-based exclusion and segregation.

Expressing these feelings best was a high school student from Cleveland named Geraldyne Ghess. Her poem appeared in the local black newspaper:

Had I wealth, I’d burn it all;

Not one cent for the Red Cross call.

Our money is good … our blood is bad.

But, still that shouldn’t make us mad.

Are they afraid they’ll all turn black?

Is that why our blood they lack?

Their skins are white as snow … it’s well.

Their souls are tarnished, black as hell.

In the end, this wide-ranging activism may have failed to democratize the blood program fully – at least during the war.

But African-Americans did – in the end – force the Red Cross to include them as donors.

Full-fledged integration, which took a few more years, owed everything to their work.

6 notes · View notes

fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

Text

Fun and Only

Summary: During a night out, Y/N and Arthur bump into someone from Arthur’s past. Y/N tries to decipher him.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,088

A/N: This was a request from the sweet, kind @imdeaddear2! I hope you like it! Thank you for making the request, because I never would have written this scenario without it. 😀 Special thanks to @arthurflecc for the beautiful intro pic! Also, thanks to @hhandley80 for reviewing the exchange in the middle section!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

"Y/N, it's little league season. Know what that means?"

Needing to finish the paragraph she was reading, Y/N raised a finger. The dense case on her desk was a tough assignment; she'd been toiling at it most of the morning. She liked her new position. Truly. But the pace at which she prepared files was slower than she would have preferred. The particulars of labor laws were, well...laborious. Reviewing evidence types she wasn't familiar with took time. It made her impatient. Anxious to soak up all the information she could get her hands on.

But, she supposed, no longer being plagued by guilt for indirectly supporting the Waynes was worth the learning curve.

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her ankles, swinging her foot back and forth as she regarded Terry. While he was incredibly friendly, chatting with everyone and anyone, they remained acquaintances. Periodically, she conferred with him over a motion or sought to get his opinion about the upcoming mayoral election. ("I've seen Wayne's legal bullshit. He's not getting my vote.") Those discussions didn't go far. Usually, he tried to bond over parental matters - she and Arthur didn't even have a plant.

She could tell this was going to be another attempt. "You're doing a fundraiser and I should buy chocolate bars?" she asked.

"Even better." Digging into his too-tight pants pocket, he retrieved a checkbook-sized pamphlet. "The Gotham Squires are selling these to charter a bus for the All-Stars tournament. They're the number two team in the state!" He shoved a photo of his kid at her.

She murmured a polite, "He's all grown-up." He spoke of the team's new uniforms and his nine-year-old's batting average. Half-listening, she flipped through the booklet. It was a coupon collection, mostly two-for-one sales at various restaurants and vouchers for discounted movie tickets, good on weekdays only. They were quite pricey at fifteen dollars apiece. But she was inclined to buy one. The savings might help Arthur practice letting go of his wallet. Allow him to stop worrying about money and indulge a little, the way he deserved.

What made the cash fly from her purse to Terry's palm was the certificate in the back: a half-off deal for Amusement Mile. Satisfaction was written all over her face as she studied the yellow cardstock's terms and conditions, the outline of a circus tent, the faded ink encouraging her to "Enjoy the Ride!" Coming from a rural area, she'd never gone to an amusement park. One had been four or so hours east, but her father had preferred to stay close to home, fearing he might be needed in an emergency.

The annual county fair had been a must. Everyone had worn his or her Sunday Best, the occasional breeze kicking up dirt as they toured the fairground. The rides had been creaky, unsound, and should have been reported to the local safety commission. She'd gone on the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant slide, waving at her parents and hanging onto her burlap sack. One year, Mabel had screamed and cried until Y/N grabbed her hand and led them out of the house of mirrors.

Swinging the mallet as hard as he could, her father had impressed her mother with the strongman game. The puck wouldn't hit the bell. Doily and needlework competitions had been her mother's purview, crafts Y/N had practiced but quickly tired of. She'd preferred the pie contest. Her mouth had watered, hankering for a taste of the first-place winner. The agricultural exhibits had been the largest section, with its prized horses, pigs, and chickens. She'd broken the rules and stuck her fingers in the rabbit cages to feel their soft fur; she'd been bitten once.

Wistfulness wasn't the only reason the theme park appealed to her. There was Arthur's history with it. He kept a postcard of the Ferris wheel pinned to the divider in his writing nook. And he'd described some of the odd jobs he'd done. Carrying boxes of merchandise, filling in for other clowns, picking up litter (and keeping the returnables). It hadn't been steady, merely hours offered to him if he'd inquired. But it'd given him pocket change. Enough to buy cigarettes and keep the utilities on for another month.

The week had been warm up till now, and the good weather was expected to continue. He loved taking her to new corners of the city, had ever since their first date. Introducing her to his old stomping ground wouldn't take a lot of convincing.

When she got home, he was perched on the sofa, clad in a thermal shirt and a pair of her too-short pajama bottoms. (A funny combination that meant their laundry was in the machine.) Elbows on his knees, journal on the coffee table, and pen at the ready, his concentration was plain to see. The discipline he had to pursue his dreams, the way he studied comedy specials on TV was admirable. She got a glass of water and smiled at his ill-timed laughter. That he didn't understand the host's humor was logical. Roasts were usually unkind. While Arthur's jokes weren't always funny, they weren't mean-spirited.

She crouched next to him, peppered kisses along his shoulder. His damp curls brushed her cheek, and she breathed in the zesty musk of his shampoo. "I wouldn't waste too much effort on this guy," she said. Her caress followed the freckles on his bare forearm, feeling the muscle flutter under her fingertips. "He's kind of an asshole."

"The audience helps me figure out the timing." He muted the television, lips quirking. "You like some of his songs."

"He makes a better singer than comedian," she rebutted with a peck.

They went over their respective days, how his earlier appointment went, the paperwork she'd done. Tuna casserole was their choice for dinner, and Arthur put on an LP while they cooked. Once the dish was in the oven, she hugged him close. "I have an idea for Thursday night." She went over the Amusement Mile discount, enthused about his expertise, reveled in how her praise softened his features and brightened his eyes. "I'd love it if you took me around. Taught me all the magic behind the scenes. And I'm dying to see where you do your street performances." She massaged the nape of his neck. "Maybe I'll stop by and give you a tip."

Crooked tooth peeking out, he nodded. Then he grasped the counter on either side of her hips and pressed his forehead to hers. "That sounds great."

~~~~~

A small memorial flowerbed, filled with alternating swirls of white gardenias, purple pansies, and yellow daffodils, was situated just beyond the park's main entrance. The marble fountain bubbling in the center reminded Y/N of a bird bath. It was modest, from a bygone era in which the wealthy hadn't dared to flaunt their fortunes for fear of strikes. The bronze plaque declared the city's thanks to Benjamin Wayne for funding Amusement Mile's construction during the height of Gotham's industrial boom. Before most of the factories had fled. Before times had become tough for the majority Gothamites. It was annoying, how the Waynes had their fingers in everything. She hoped not one nickel of what they spent tonight went into their bank accounts.

Arthur paid it no mind. His head was tipped back a degree or two, his clear green eyes darting from attraction to attraction. Smoking was one of his habits she disapproved of. But she couldn't dispute how attractive he was, puffing the cigarette dangling from his puckered lips. The chestnut tones of his brown hair were brought to the fore by the grounds' multi-color lighting, and a lock or two fell over his temples. The loose curls at his neck bounced with each step, a boyish buoyancy to his gait.

Her stomach growled as soon as the aroma of fair food hit her. They picked a booth that claimed it sold Gotham's original franks. He asked to order for her. She let him, watching as his grin widened and he stated, "Four hot dogs for my girlfriend and me, please. With relish and mustard." Then they shared a candy apple, taking turns nibbling at the fruit's hard, sugary shell. Its juice dribbled onto her pale pink top, staining the embroidered neckline. Her groan of disapproval became giggling as he stole chaste kisses, wiping her off as she chewed.

His palm at the small of her back, guiding her as they walked down the midway, fanned a glow in her heart. He'd made headway when it came to displaying his affection in public, though he still tended towards timidity. Early on, she'd concluded his reticence had nothing to do with her - he never pulled away if she grabbed at him. He was simply a gentleman.

Most examples he followed were from an older era, one lost to the bluntness of the eighties. Those moments he'd let himself go, when he'd make it clear they were a couple, lifted her spirit. Not only due to the pride she felt at being on his arm, but also because it meant he was finding his own way. Arthur wasn't a shy suitor or a contemporary romantic hero. Rather, he was somewhere in the middle. Old fashioned, through and through, with threads of modernity woven into his fibers.

As they strolled, they stumbled onto a black and white photo booth. She sat on its cracked wooden stool and tried to tug him inside. But he wanted a picture of her, he said. To put in his wallet. To look at if he was having a bad day and wasn't at home. Her response was to snag his collar and yank him to her lips. Snorting, he shut the nylon curtain. At the clink of quarters in the coin slot, she straightened her puffed, cap sleeves and fixed her hair in the scratched featherweight mirror. The camera's flashes blinded her, but she thought she'd managed to smile naturally enough.

Before she had a chance to stand, he whipped open the drape and showed her the strip of portraits. "I knew I was dating the prettiest woman in the city. Maybe even the sweetest."

She cupped his cheeks as she stepped out. Rubbed the tip of her nose to his. He was unfailingly generous. Too generous. While she was fine with her appearance, she wouldn't win a beauty pageant. Hell, she wouldn't even be a runner-up. Or a contestant. And sweet was one of the last words she'd use to describe herself. But she wasn't going to correct him. "And I found the handsomest, funniest man." His stare was wide-eyed. After releasing a stuttering breath, he pulled her along.

Upon entering the gaming area, he slung his arm around her waist. Mischief laced his whisper as he spilled secrets. The darts for the balloon pop were dull, the balloons underinflated. He advised her to stay clear of the baseball and milk bottle stand, saying, "The bottom bottles have lead in them. You'll never knock them over."

Then he warned her off the ring toss, saying the rings were too small to win the best prizes. She decided to take her chances, regardless, and paid the attendant. Arthur tutted gently as she gave him the last ring, having already wasted four. A step to the side, then he paused to line up his throw. A short clap announced his victory. The prize options included a dinky toy car and a rubber snake. She picked a plastic, red keychain, embossed with "I was Amused in 1982" and the silhouette of a coaster. It was an improvement over her old car dealership tag. "I'll think of tonight whenever I see it."

Gaze fixed on her mouth, he sighed happily. He began to reach towards her, his arm raised ever so slightly-

"Art!" a rich baritone called. "Hey, Art!"

Arthur flinched. She moved to peer behind him. The approaching man was tall, his balding head half a foot higher than Arthur's. A blue and red flannel shirt with gray trousers covered his portly physique. Confidence oozed from him with every stride, a pleasantly surprised smirk on his round face.

Y/N's interest was piqued. Unless it was someone who remembered Arthur from Live! with Murray Franklin, no one ever approached him on the street. And she hadn't heard him be referred to by anything other than his proper name (besides Penny's terrible "Happy.").

But his reactions concerned her. Arthur's back tensed as the man closed in, stopping a yard away. "Hi, Randall."

"How's my boy been?" Randall asked jovially, hands at his sides. "Gary told us about your mom. Could you use a little cheering up?"

Arthur blinked faster than usual. "No. She's okay. And I feel a lot better now."

"Oh. Well, good for you," Randall said.

Going back and forth between them, she tried to puzzle out their dynamic. Their familiarity was obvious. Randall seemed caring enough, although she found it odd he'd referred to her thirty-five-year-old partner as "boy." Arthur had mentioned Gary was a former colleague. It would make sense Randall was, too.

He threw her a glance. "Hey, you have family visiting. Is this your cousin?"

She brushed off the assumption and extended her hand. "I'm Y/N L/N. His girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah. The paralegal." He shook it firmly before addressing Arthur again. "Gary said you finally got a date."

The pat to Arthur's bicep was a little too hard, jolting his stiff frame. The set of his jaw and flaring of his nostrils betrayed a turmoil she hadn't initially picked up on. She touched his hand but he shoved it in his pocket.

All right. She had to get to the bottom of this. It was hard to ascertain if his current reaction was due to his social challenges (which could cause discomfort) or Randall's words. She didn't want to jump to conclusions. After all, she and Patricia teased each other whenever they met for lunch or chatted on the phone. A good ribbing was needed every once in a while.

Starting a cross-examination in front of Arthur would contribute to his unease. After a moment's deliberation, she nudged him. It took a couple of tries to get his attention. "Would you please get us a large lemonade?" His brows rose, anxiety in the wrinkles of his forehead. She stretched to kiss his temple. His eyes narrowed but he got the hint, scuffing his shoe and glowering at Randall as he walked off.

When Arthur rounded a corner by the water pistol race, she lounged on one of the booth's metal poles. "Have you known Arthur long?"

Randall nodded in the direction Arthur had gone. "We worked at HaHa's. I'm a clown, too. We did parties, the children's hospital, store openings."

"Arthur loved that job." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's too bad the slow season hit. But he's doing pretty well on his own."

Confusion crossed the big man's visage. "Uh, yeah. The slow season." He chuckled, then. "Anyway, you and Art, huh?"

Smiling broadly, she folded her arms over her chest. "Yes, me and Art."

"Pretty serious, huh?"

If he wanted gossip to bring back to the workplace, she'd gladly give him some. Especially if it reflected well on Arthur. "We live together. It's been great."

"No kidding." With a sardonic grin, he shook his head. "A woman like you. I didn't know he had it in him. It was always just him and his mom. Talked about stand-up sometimes. Mostly kept to himself, though. Never really talked much." Randall shrugged lightly. "But we liked him. He did all the shitty jobs no one wanted and never complained."

Arching a brow, Y/N felt her suspicions grow. While Arthur was learning to disagree and contradict her without hesitation, he nevertheless had the inclination to go along. It was plausible he hadn't argued about gigs. Had they taken his preferences into account?

Then Randall confirmed her skepticism, saying in a jokey tone, "That laugh really got everyone going, too. And his laminated cards. We had a pool on whether it was part of his act. I mean, him being in Arkham and all, who knows what the fuck he could have come up with?"

Deciphering what kind of man stood in front of her was suddenly uncomplicated. She'd run into his type all too often. They lurked in garages and offices. Diners and restaurants. Courtrooms on both sides of the bench. People with no real power who walked on others. Persons who threw their weight around to feel in charge. Bullies who hid behind a veneer of kindness.

She understood why he'd called Arthur "boy."

What she said had to be chosen carefully. Randall and Arthur worked in the same field, likely competed for clients. If her big mouth came back on Arthur, she wouldn't forgive herself. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and forced her voice to stay professional. "If you liked him, wouldn't you have split the less desirable jobs with him? I'm sure he didn't like being taken advantage of."

His looked at her in disbelief. "Hey, he was paid fair and square, like all of us."

"And he understands how to speak to a 'woman like me' more than you ever will." A sharp exhale as her cheeks burned. "From what Arthur has said, you could learn a lot from Gary. Please tell him hello from us and have a good evening." With that, she headed off to find Arthur, ignoring Randall's lame attempts to call her back.

Arthur was in line when she spotted him. He stepped forward and pointed to the menu. As she approached, she noticed how he fidgeted with his cigarette, tapping it repeatedly though there was no ash. The subtle tremble in his knee. If he continued to carry himself so tightly, his muscles would cramp.

Clearing her throat, she slipped behind him and hugged his back. "Did you have to deal with that insufferable know-it-all every day?"

He grabbed the proffered cup from the clerk and headed to a nearby table. Plunked himself down and took a drag off his smoke. Stress poured off him, clear in every flex of his fingers. His palm went to his stomach as he practiced controlling his breathing. "What- What did he tell you? That everyone thought I was a freak? How much I fucked up?" His voice lowered then, barely above a whisper. She could tell he was talking to himself. "The hospital?"

"Enough to know he was a jerk. I'm glad you're not there anymore." She put her chin on his shoulder. Watched him take a sip of lemonade. "Nothing he said matters, but I told him how important you are to me." She tucked a hair behind his ear, and he leaned into her touch. Their gazes met, his shining in the dim light. The evening had been fantastic so far. She wasn't going to let some asshole ruin it. "Come on," she urged, jutting her hip towards him. "We still have half the park to explore."

~~~~~

About a third of the way through their ride on the Mad Hatter, Amusement Mile's famous coaster, Y/N realized eating had been a mistake. A big one. Thrown to a fro in the sharp curves, she could nearly taste the bile in the throat. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, willing her nausea to pass. For his part, Arthur appeared exhilarated, laughing with every peak and valley. Seeing that happiness was a gift, one that gratified and partially distracted from her queasiness.

Fortunately, the enclosed cabins on the Ferris wheel were a respite. They waited an extra turn to board the outer wheel, which rotated at a leisurely pace and allowed her stomach to settle. The view from the top was beautiful, Gotham Cathedral's lit spires and the Westward Bridge prominent against the night sky. Wayne Tower was also visible, but she did her best to ignore the high-rise and its gaudy "W." He pointed in the direction of Burnley and said, "There's our home." She was unexpectedly moved. Then he kissed her soundly, which quickly advanced to mild necking when the wheel paused.

The carousel was antique, according to the sign. The only original attraction left in the park. A massive wooden structure with a mirrored center, it had three rows of horses, broken up by the occasional bench. He stepped onto the gray platform and picked one, painted red and yellow, roses etched along its back. But she climbed a nearby leaping horse instead, its black mane and tan body faded by years of sunlight.

He quirked a dark brow until she beckoned him with a nod. Cheeks pink, countenance tender in the lingering blinks of the incandescent bulbs, he followed suit. "Hang onto me," she instructed. As the calliope's whistles began their jaunty tune, he cupped her hips and pressed into her. A flutter tickled her stomach. She reclined against him, let her eyes fall shut as his warmth surrounded her. Round and round they went, chuckling airily. Not at any jokes or amusements, but at the joy of one another.

Arthur picked the last ride, an old mill called Romantic River Caves. She had to stop herself from snickering at the idea of a middle-aged woman and her nearly-middle-aged boyfriend cruising along in something built for teenagers. But he delighted in cliches and corniness, a preference she attributed to his inexperience and kind nature. Though such gestures hadn't thrilled her since she was a girl, she appreciated them with him.

The boats were short and narrow, just wide enough for the two of them to sit side-by-side. Curved backrests encouraged cuddling. Off-key versions of old standards played through tinny speakers. Myriad displays were inside, a mix of plaster dioramas and paintings. Two swans swimming, their beaks touching. A couple on a picnic under a tree. Bouquets and hearts galore. There were five or so seconds of darkness between each one. He took advantage of those breaks, kissing her again and again until she was breathless.

She scanned the starry painting above them, the comets' trails stretched across the tunnel's ceiling. "It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Twenty-five? Thirty years?"

"Me, too. I snuck in when I was a kid. To see the circus and the merry-go-round." He smoothed his hair back, pressed his legs tighter together. "When I moonlighted here, I could've gone on the rides and to the shows. I- I didn't want to alone."

He paused and she put her palm on his thigh. Gave him an encouraging squeeze. "That postcard I have?" he said. "By my desk? It was in my locker at HaHa's." His fingers covered hers, tips tracing her knuckles. "It's good to have a person to have fun with. To have you."

She beamed at that sentiment, for she felt it, too. Yes, she'd been complete on her own. No, she hadn't been lonely. But he added to her existence. Introduced her to activities and experiences she hadn't previously considered or realized she'd needed. Going to a comedy club. Dancing despite her lack of skill. Or enjoying vulnerability during quiet conversations in their bedroom rather than fearing it. He'd broadened her life in ways she was still discovering. And he regularly told her she'd bettered his. "You're my favorite ride," she said.

A sharp snort left him, followed by a bashful chuckle. He shook his head. "You're crazy."

"I didn't mean that." She batted his chest playfully. Tried to cross her legs under the safety bar. "This relationship we've started." Light appeared at the end of the tunnel, the shallow pool's grimy floor coming into view as the water level fell. Soon they'd be amongst the crowd. "Remember when I said we'd never be perfect? I like our imperfections. They fit. Like..." She contemplated. "A pen and paper. They're good on their own but they're best together." Cringing, she covered her face. "God, that didn't even make sense. A pen needs paper."

"Didn't you say you needed me?" he teased, pulling her hand from her brow to place it on his sternum. "I don't mind being your paper." Blushing, Y/N turned to him when he cupped her jaw. Ran his thumbs over her cheeks. She joined him in ignoring the attendant's instruction to disembark. Arthur kissed her, a delicate graze to her mouth before he drew her bottom lip between his. "You're the best ride, too."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve, @howdylilflower, @sweet-nothings04, @stephieraptorr, @rommies, @fallenstarsabyss, @gruffle1, @octopus-plasma, @tsukiakarinobara, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile, @another-day-in-chuckletown, @hhandley80, @jokerownsmysoul, @64-crayon

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

38 notes · View notes

dhyzenmedia · 5 months ago

Text

Steve Lent's New Book Launch - July 18th, 6 p.m.

View On WordPress

#Bowman Museum #crook county history center #Event #historian Steve Lent

0 notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 6 years ago

Text

Scenes from the Bangalore Literature Festival

Jasmina Tesanovic:

I still have Indian dust on my shoes from the city of Bangalore, where I spent almost a week at the international literary festival.

I was mind-boggled at the scale of this national Indian event: literature, politics, activism, feminism. There was music and even street art, but what a crowd. Sixteen thousand highly literate participants, roaming from one outdoor stage to another, and engaged with every atom of their souls.

Literary culture persists in this part of the world, where people still believe that leafing through books is a transformative spiritual experience that can change the world.

Authors of the first world, beset with Internet and economic crisis, often seem like plastic vanity-toys kept past their sell-by date, but maybe what they lack most keenly is a creative readership. As a passionate reader, I often claim it is more difficult to read a book well than it is to to write one. As a less passionate writer, I know that even one ideal reader is enough to motivate a decent book.

The beautiful literary carnival -- held on the broad, leafy grounds of one of Bangalore’s finest hotels, an oasis of glamor and privilege -- contrasted with the crooked streets of Bangalore where the sacred cows, pariah dogs and torrents of honking traffic live with a passion for survival. This was not my first visit to India, so I was ready for the epic scale of grandeur and abject poverty, but it was still a culture shock.

The jet-set’s digitized skyscrapers tower like phantoms over vast bazaars seething with a seize-the-day human vitality. It’s reflected in Indian literature, where the English language, global yet somehow frail, towers over sixteen vernacular publishing scenes. In the Bangalore festival, professional writers traded erudite quips in English because thats how one gets it done, but they were singing in the English-speaking choir, and they knew it. The seething, vibrant life in those modern Indian streets, half chopped coconuts and half cellphone components, is never taught at Oxford.

All over the world we women haunt conflict zones, and India, which is vast, has plenty of them. The gunfire tends to sound the same but the conclusions are different. The national patriot woman works to support her brave men at war; the peace activist withdraws support from men who aren’t brave enough to refuse the uniform and leave the slaughterhouse. There is one common ground, though: whether life is called “peace” or “war,” the women always struggle in a trench.

The ongoing #metoo scandal in India is briskly spreading all over the country through social media. It started with celebrities -- actresses and directors, but spread through media centers, universities, publishing, wherever women get sexually harassed by wealthy and powerful men, which is to say, all over the place. It’s evidence that complaints of Western feminism have a universality, and wherever women don’t speak up about the suffering of women, it’s not because the oppressions aren’t noticed; it’s because the complaints are repressed. It’s taboo to speak up, and even a small distance in cultural mores can make the speakable unspeakable.

Women are keenly attuned to what can be said in what conditions. At the festival, one female mystery writer complained that she simply can’t bear to read a “classic English whodunnit novel” which is set in Scotland. All those careful cultural assumptions about who gets battered to death by the butler with the fire iron, they are fine in a homey English county but just don’t work in distant Glasgow, which seems as incongruous as Bangalore, almost. This may be indeed be a literary problem, but it doesn’t explain why crime and detective fiction thrives inside India for Indians, because it does.

At the festival, a female science fiction writer complained: why must I be targeted as a woman when I write fiction about science? I may be a biological woman, but why should that restrict what I can write? I remembered that as a young writer, and as a young woman, I shared her frustration, but I gave it up as soon as I realized that my writing didn’t emerge from some gender-neutral science laboratory.

When women were not on the page, it was an absence. My favorite writers of novels missed the women's perspective. My own life experience was visibly missing from classical novels. The women characters were lame, my world was not that world of canonic literary classics, I was invisible there, and not withstanding the fact that literature was my safe place, and a source of worldly education, I was miserable. I had no power, I had no words. My experience and wisdom had not been captured in those novels I read. It was in my body, as in every other living woman through history, outside of genre, in a gender gap.

As a woman without a fatherland and without a mother language, my own literature had to be born ante literam. The luxury of writing without a gender also has a gender, it is male “mainstream.” But the stream is not the ocean, and dams can break.

In Bangalore I did a “book signing” without books! My books have never been in print in India, but I do have website with many of my books online, and an old fashioned pen in my hand. A handshake, a signature, and a hug for a book from a website address! It was fair barter.

Bangalore has many temples, small and big, fancy and clean, awkward and trashy. The whole city conveys the impression of a temple on the move. The pavements are broken by banyan roots, the skies are speckled with vultures, the soil is overrun by small but aggressive striped squirrels, so watch your step!

The traffic is Los Angeles times ten, with no lane or crossing discipline. Pedestrians including the numerous cows and dogs simply amble through the noisy torrent of motor-rickshaws, endless scooters, bikes ringing, cars honking, trucks blasting. Traffic policemen occasionally shake-down the worst offenders, who can either appear in court or else cough up half the cash on the spot, for cop’s pocket. Somehow the whizzing vehicles respectfully avoid killing elderly women and small children.

In the old summer palace of the Sultan Tipu, a historic structure which in Italy would be guarded relentlessly with video cams, the local people sat on the gleaming wooden stairs, meditating, solemn. A little girl danced as endlessly as an extra in a Bollywood movie, gently applauded by her neighbors.

It is a densely crowded, communal life in India. Most every task that might be done by one person in the West is parceled out among three or four people, then performed for an audience.

In a coffee shop I simply asked for a cold soda. The waiter conveyed the request to the boss; the owner gave the waiter a key to the refrigerator; another waiter opened the fridge, yet another retrieved the bottle and, finally, my original waiter, with a flourish, brought it to me, opened it and carefully poured it out for me. Then I drank it in a rather showy fashion, because, after all that fuss, I felt obliged.

People want to listen and to serve: in my hotel the Don’t Disturb sign is replaced by the written board: Please let us clean the room soon, our pleasure is to serve you. As a writer, as an activist, I confess I feel much the same.

I feel edified and cleansed after being in Bangalore. In India, people check on your condition all the time, emotionally and materially. Then they certify your stay with a nice red stamp, ink in your passport, or henna on your body.

https://boingboing.net/2018/11/08/scenes-from-the-bangalore-lite.html

7 notes · View notes

utcampuslifeupdate · 3 years ago

Text

Meet the 2021-22 Outstanding Student Award Recipients

(Left-right) Ashka Dighe and Melanie Yeager (Award Finalists), Rocío Nairi Garza-Gómez and Arquala Davis (Award Winners), Christopher “CJ” Ligon and Brianna Middleton (Award Finalists)

Shirley Bird Perry, Wales Madden, Jr., Nancy Strauss and Daron Roberts – what do these alumni have in common? They are all Texas Parents Outstanding Student Award recipients.

A group of extraordinary students is once again joining this long list of well-known alumni recognized for their exceptional leadership, scholarship, character and service. For 71 years, Texas Parents has honored two recipients and four finalists with this award. Many of the recipients spanning seven decades have been former Student Government leaders and students deeply involved in the Forty Acres. They have gone on to become pillars of their communities in public service, law, medicine and business, as well as university system regents, donors and supporters. These notable honorees became Longhorns for life, continuing to give back long after they graduated.

And this year’s winners and finalists are just as impressive. Listen to the two award recipients reflect on their UT Austin experience and how it’s prepared them for life after graduation. Read more about the four finalists below

Texas Parents Outstanding Student Award Recipients

Arquala Davis

“What Starts Here changed my world and made me who I am today… I’ve grown in more ways than I could’ve ever imagined and built connections that will last me a lifetime.”

College of Liberal Arts

Major: Health and Society

Minor: Business Administration

Campus Involvement: University Housing and Dining resident assistant, Horns Helping Horns, Student Government, University Residence Hall Association, University Leadership Network, Health Occupations Students of America

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Southwest Affiliation of College Universities Residence Halls

Rocío Nairi Garza-Gómez

“When I first stepped foot on the Forty Acres, the What Starts Here motto motivated me to think big about how to have a tangible and lasting impact in society. This promise of a brighter future is exactly how UT Austin has changed my world.”

McCombs School of Business

Major: Finance and Management Information Systems

Campus Involvement: Undergraduate Business Council, Texas Spirits, Texas Hispanic Business Student Association, Terry Foundation scholar

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Boston Consulting Group, Lone Star National Bank

Texas Parents Outstanding Student Award Finalists

Ashka Dighe

“The work I’ve started here at UT Austin is now the foundation of my career and I hope that through advocacy I can make meaningful positive changes to the world.”

College of Natural Sciences, College of Liberal Arts

Major: Neuroscience, and Plan II Honors and Health and Society

Minor: Government and History

Campus Involvement: Texas 4,000 for Cancer, The Daily Texan, It’s On Us, Friar Society, Sharon H. Justice Leadership Scholarship Recipient, Texas Exes President’s Leadership Award Recipient

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Elizabeth Crook and Mark Lewis Foundation, Eleanor Crook Foundation, Know Your IX

Christopher “CJ” Ligon

“I am amazed at what can happen when you truly dedicate your actions to serving others. The lessons and experiences gained here is what I will use to further transform the world.”

School of Nursing

Major: Nursing

Campus Involvement: African American Nursing Students Association, Longhorn Association for Men in Nursing, Student Government Election Supervisory Board, President’s Award for Global Learning (finalist)

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Seton Medical Center, Houston Methodist: Texas Medical Center, Austin State Hospital, Ascension Seton (Hays County)

Brianna Middleton

“What Starts Here means to be a soulful, connected and advocacy-centered leader that is committed to making the world a better place. I embrace the power of grit.”

College of Natural Sciences

Major: Biochemistry

Minor: Educational Psychology and Sociology

Campus Involvement: Natural Sciences Council, Black and Latinx Advocacy Council, Women in Natural Sciences, Black Health Professions Organization

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Dell Medical School, MD Anderson Cancer Center extern

Melanie Yeager

“My time here at UT Austin has shown me that changing the world starts with your very own community: by building relationships with people from all walks of life and making meaningful change wherever you can.”

College of Education

Major: Applied Education and Development

Campus Involvement: Texas THON, University Panhellenic Council, Texas Chi Omega, Texas StuMo

Community Involvement/Professional Experience: Austin Independent School District student teacher and intern

#Texas Parents #Division of Student Affairs #UT Austin #The University of Texas at Austin #Outstanding Student Award

0 notes

lyndonchristian · 3 years ago

Text

It would not be proper for me to discuss Lord Stannis’s indebtedness or lack of same.

Despite feeling quite big on the road, it's pretty agile, with decent steering weight in the Sport setting. 108") is the curious king of our Colocasia collection (do you like alliteration?). We—oh!”. “It would not be proper for me to discuss Lord Stannis’s indebtedness or lack of same. At Joffrey’s wedding feast, he recalled, one rider had displayed the direwolf of Robb Stark, the other the arms and colors of Stannis Baratheon. They’re so noble that it’s always easy to deceive them, and besides they invariably confine themselves to lofty and noble contempt instead of practically applying the law to the case if it can be applied. "I can take you back to the good old days," he assured me. Police initially described bottines cloutees femme the death as Less than two weeks later, they charged 32 year old Danny Brian Crate of Nipawin with second degree murder.. His Worship is to receive a delegation from the Yunkai’i, to discuss the withdrawal of their armies. “No one ever kept me safe when I was little. I took up a Frankfort paper, read a couple of lines and dropped into a doze. Fortunately, the Blues are stacked on the back end with Alex Pietrangelo, Jay Bouwmeester, Carl Gunnarsson, Barret Jackman and Ian Cole. Of course worn by Penny Hardaway, this release is one every self proclaimed sneakerhead should ghete galbene piele own. Ser Jorah had rolled onto one side, so all that Tyrion could see of him was a broad, hairy, muscular back. That was the story all of them had heard as they scrambled from the ships that had brought them from Old Volantis. The traffic was thicker here. The way his arms were flapping, he might have been mistaken for another bird.. As the sun was gilding the distant spires of Dragonstone, Dany stumbled onto a low stone wall, overgrown and broken. He was carried to bed; and, some three weeks thereafter, when my father left the state, he was still confined to his bed from the effects of that flogging.. People make comments catalog cercei aur turcia about how awful he was that he deliberately gave their granddaughter or sister or best friend or whatever AIDS. I’d like to see with mine own eyes. The problem? I hated Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS running! Why would anyone subject themselves to a sport they don't like? I still don't have an chanel ágynemű answer for that. Dagger Lake is full of islands where they lurk in hidden caves and secret strongholds. Men who make the laws, and men who interpret them, may be fully sensible of their terrible severity and inhumanity; but, if they are going to preserve the THING, they have no resource but to make the laws, and to execute them faithfully after they are made. Anna Andreyevna uttered a shriek. That night at supper Tyrion surprised his sire by walking the length of the high table on his hands. And yet the urge to loose the planes only grows stronger among America's political class. You likely be able to overclock the Haswell E K parts (Core i7 5930K and Core i7 5820K) about 100 200MHz higher than what you can get on the 5960X since they have fewer cores enabled. And one or two more on personal piety, &c., I went to the arbor, took my seat in the door of the stand for a minute; then rose, and, after referring to a few texts of Scripture, to show that all those who will live godly shall suffer persecution, I inquired, 1st, What is persecution? 2ndly, noticed the fact, ‘shall suffer;’ gave a synoptical history of persecution, 192by showing that Abel was the first martyr for the right—the Israelites’ sufferings. He flew adidas eqt rose gold B 25s, assigned to a medium bomber division in the 12th Air Force, flying from the маратонки puma mercedes amg island of Corsica. The lantern light in her eyes made them seem as if they were afire. I began by feeding Mimi with sweetmeats, and in about ten minutes I had taught her to shake hands, which they had never been able to teach her before. What I am asking him to do is make a choice and condemn this movement.. It's definitely going to encourage other shoe manufacturers to look at their own midsoles and see how they can improve them to compete.'. I will tell him everything, speaking only for myself, only puma red bull racing evo cat ii for myself! You shan’t be mixed up in it. A state inspection determined the pool needs a new filter and guttering system as well as a new tank."I would love to see that pool being open and more people (able to) go to that pool again," said Kaylee Lovell, a lifeguard now working at the Maryville Pool."The people from the BC Pool are coming to this pool," Lovell said.Bullitt County YMCA Executive Director June Daugherty says the work will cost about $300,000, but added that it can be done in phases. The damn thing was heavier than it had any right to izraeli kézműves ékszerek be, though. And cold and footsore as well, in no condition for a fight … but the storm will make them desperate to get air jordan aj4 inside the castle.. When you play a team that is that offensively proficient year in and year out, sometimes you just have to hold serve and we couldn finish drives. Mossador. She will die. Together with 18 or 20 likely negroes, consisting of men, women, boys and girls. Among them were Vodafone, Pepsi, Cadbury Kraft, LG, Samsung, Godrej and Airtel DTH.. Alexandr Petrovitch is a most charming person, of course, though he has one particular weakness — that is, boasting of his literary judgement, especially before those whom he suspects of knowing him through and through. His famous forebear, the dark and dashing Terrence Toyne of whom the singers sang, had been so fair of face that even the king’s mistress could not resist him; but Myles had been possessed of jug ears, a crooked jaw, and the biggest nose that Jon Connington had ever seen. Also, if the researchers manage to replace fruit juice with Water + vitamin C, then at the very least, the sugar content should stay the same. I was used to her and I waited. The white knight knows that something is amiss, Hotah could tell, but it is more than that. Community activist Deric Muhammad, center, speaks during a press conference regarding the death of Joshua Woods at the Harris County Criminal Courthouse, Tuesday, Feb. Forty six per cent of likely voters now say they have a favourable view of the former secretary of state, up from 42 per cent in September. Stowe has described.. HAIR: Black. We are as different from the inferior races as they are from insects. There’s ships that go between the Sisters and White Harbor all the time. Yet Nikolay Sergeyitch was not only now, but had, even in former days, in their happiest times, always been rather reserved with his Anna Andreyevna, sometimes even surly, especially before other people. She stood at the king’s side on a wooden scaffold raised above the pit. RANAWAY from the subscriber, on the night of the 26th July last, a negro woman named HARRIET. When it comes to work, Millennials seem to expect structure. We provide opportunities for children and youth ages five to 18 and their families to participate in a wide variety of activities.

0 notes

livingcorner · 3 years ago

Text

THE 15 BEST Things to Do in Winter Garden – 2021 (with Photos) – Tripadvisor

32 places sorted by traveler favorites

Things to do ranked using Tripadvisor data including reviews, ratings, photos, and popularity.

You're reading: THE 15 BEST Things to Do in Winter Garden – 2021 (with Photos) – Tripadvisor

Winter Garden Farmers Market

200

Farmers Markets

By Melindahowe

This farmers market has everything from places to eat, to plant and flower stands to fresh produce and honey to dog b…

Crooked Can Brewing Company

379

Breweries

By 418lewisl

It’s a great time, with great beer , and delicious food.

Plant Street Market

152

Flea & Street Markets

By georginel2014

Very cool place with beer, pizza, sushi , vegetarian, coffee, pastries, chocolate, burgers and shops.

Garden Theatre

133

Theaters

By ChelseaOfAsgard

Why you should support local theater

Winter Garden Heritage Museum

History Museums

By mrscleo

Local history of the Orange grove industry.

Central Florida Railroad Museum

Speciality Museums

By ronaldf07734

Train artifacts and pieces often get discarded or sold simply because the footprint is considered more valuable as a…

Resurrection Catholic Church

Churches & Cathedrals

Read more: How to Add Lime to Garden Soil | LoveToKnow

Winter Garden Art Association

Speciality Museums

Tucker Ranch

Nature & Wildlife Areas • Parks

By LorenWeisman

Off this side road on Avalon, it has a great short hiking trail and a cool wooden structure and kids area that my dau…

10.

Target

Department Stores

11.

Warrior Park

Parks

12.

Winter Garden Village

169

Speciality & Gift Shops

By bill32779buckeye

Od Fashion Small Town Shopping and Dining .

13.

West Orange Trail Bikes & Blades

Gear Rentals

By NCMom913

Great bike rental shop with excellent customer service .

14.

Escape Goat

Escape Games

By curtisratliff

… your way unless called upon! Can’t wait to tackle Area 51, but until then, thank you for a great time Escape Goat !

15.

Orange County National Golf Center

139

Golf Courses

By PonkyHotShot

We played the Crooked Cat course and got paired with a father and son local pair to make a fourball.

16.

Kaebisch Chocolate

Speciality & Gift Shops

17.

Panther Lake Golf Course

Golf Courses

18.

The Dive Place

Scuba & Snorkelling

19.

Crooked Cat Golf Course

Golf Courses

20.

Winter Garden Station Rentals

Gear Rentals

By F4393WCalisons

Staff very friendly and helpful, bike was great and trail is really fantastic.

21.

Cinépolis

Dinner Theaters

By Hazmat35

should have concessions outdoors too, instead of having to go to movie theater or use UBERand what is with the pri…

22.

Let’s Skate Orlando

Game & Entertainment Centers

23.

Jodi’s Ski School

Ski & Snow Tours

Read more: 37 Garden Border Ideas To Dress Up Your Landscape Edging

24.

Hagan O’Reilly’s

Bars & Clubs

Open now

25.

Our Nation’s Creations

Speciality & Gift Shops

26.

Stoneybrook West Golf Club

Golf Courses

27.

Driftwood Market – Gift Home Garden

Speciality & Gift Shops

28.

Crazy Lennys eBikes

Self-Guided Tours & Rentals

29.

Gravity Golf

Golf Courses

30.

Tildenville Marketplace

Speciality & Gift Shops • Antique Shops

Showing results

–

Frequently Asked Questions about Winter Garden

The top attractions to visit in Winter Garden are:

Winter Garden Farmers Market

Crooked Can Brewing Company

Plant Street Market

Garden Theatre

Winter Garden Heritage Museum

See all attractions in Winter Garden on Tripadvisor

The most popular things to do in Winter Garden with kids according to Tripadvisor travelers are:

Winter Garden Farmers Market

Plant Street Market

Garden Theatre

Winter Garden Heritage Museum

Central Florida Railroad Museum

See all kid friendly things to do in Winter Garden on Tripadvisor

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/the-15-best-things-to-do-in-winter-garden-2021-with-photos-tripadvisor/

#livingcornernews

0 notes

secretlygrantaire · 7 years ago

Text

Everybody’s Replaceable Kylo Ren X Female Reader Soulmate AU Epilogue.

Synopsis: The reader was taken away from her family as a child to work on a First Order base as a weapons tester with other children. After managing to escape the First Order when she is older the reader lives by herself and begin to feel her connection and sensitivity to the force. It is discovered that she has similar abilities to Kylo Ren who is ordered to take her in as an apprentice and show her the ways of the force. I’m not going to give anything else away I’ll just say that they are soulmates but don’t know it yet, chaos ensues.

Warnings: THE LAST JEDI SPOILERS!!! Angst, the reader gets injured, fluff.

All research for fact-checking is done on Wookieepedia.com or Starwars.wikia.com

Previous Chapters:

One: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169673830791/everybody-is-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Two: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169719813901/everybody-is-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Three: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169749517901/everybody-is-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Four: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169755457691/everybody-is-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Five: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169794929001/everybody-is-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Six: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169832585346/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Seven: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169871891231/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Eight: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169943975116/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Nine: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/169983978246/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Ten: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/170137105096/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Eleven: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/170284339596/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Twelve: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/170367170766/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Thirteen: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/170481560541/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Fourteen: http://secretlygrantaire.tumblr.com/post/170547420321/everybodys-replaceable-kylo-ren-x-female-reader

Y/N= Your name

Y/F/N= Your Full name

Y/H/C= Your hair color

Y/E/C= Your eye color

The reader goes by her middle name once she becomes Ren’s apprentice, in this story, her name will be Alia, pronounces Ah-Lee-Uh

EPILOGUE

THREE YEARS LATER:

One thousand and ninety-five days, it had been one thousand and ninety-five days since Y/N left Hays Minor to train under Kylo Ren as his apprentice. One thousand and ninety-five days since she had finally met her soulmate, one thousand and ninety-five days since her life began to make sense, and it had been the most extraordinary one thousand and ninety-five days of her entire life. After the battle of Crait and the disastrous mission on Hays Minor both Y/N and Kylo began to heal, physically, mentally and emotionally with the support of each other. Now being able to be open about their bond the two slowly but surely began to become more comfortable to be close in public. It started by briefly brushing the other’s hand to assure them that they were there and lead to walking arm in arm, leaning their head on the other’s shoulder, sweet and short forehead kisses before they left. They found comfort in each other that they had not felt in anyone else, and they began to heal after years of being molded to fit the form society wants them to fit, Kylo with Snoke and Y/N with the officers of Hays Minor. Kylo took his role as Supreme Leader with strides, asking Y/N to lead with her by his side. Y/N agreed and her first order of business was to release the workers on Hays Minor and all other weapon’s testing bases and to put an end to the child labor the First Order had abused for many years. Kylo started a new training program to make the weapon’s builders and testers an official job one must apply for and be trained in, new safety precautions were implemented, wages were raised, violent and abusive managers and officers were fired and a new managerial training system was put in place. It was almost too good to be true, despite the strides that Kylo was taking, he still believed it was time to let old things die and he still continued his search for the rebels, to end the war before it started and to create a new first-order across the galaxy, and Y/N stood by his side. The two continued to train, working in tandem instead of apart, they became familiar with the other’ s energy and were able to support the other in battle in new and exciting ways. Y/N had never felt stronger than when she was beside her soulmate. Y/N and Kylo moved into the same quarters, sharing every free moment together. Although Y/N was still stubborn and headstrong Kylo relished in the moments he got to take care of her, the little things like washing her hair in the shower, carrying her off to bed or having her fall asleep in his arms as he reads. Their bond grew with each passing day and they became something stronger than before, their souls were one, completing each other, balancing each other out, more beautiful than the stars that created them, more powerful than death.

One night Y/N and Kylo were sitting by the window, leaning into each other, reading,, neither of them spoke, their presence was enough. Kylo looked up from his book and over to Y/N, he watched as her eyes flicked from word to word, a loose strand of Y/H/C hair laying on her cheek. He reached over and tucked the hair behind her ear, Y/N looking up at Kylo with a soft, sleepy smile. “Ready for bed?” She asked. Kylo placed his book down and pulled the girl into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck, she laughed and leaned back into his strong arms. “Y/N?” Kylo whispered. “Yes?” Y/N turned back to face the blushing man, “What is it, my love?” Kylo’s heart melted at those words, “Can I ask you something?” He said. “Of course,” Y/N replied. “Anything.” Kylo looked into her eyes, “Marry me?” He whispered. Y/N paused her heart skipping a beat. “What?” She questioned. Kylo reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, it was simple, a braided silver band with a small row of tiny opals, glistening like the galaxies above. “ Marry me?” He asked again. Y/N gasped and before she knew it tears were cascading down her face, “Kylo,” She began, looking up at the man, “...yes.” She said, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, yes, of course, yes!” Kylo beamed, the two kissed. Kylo held Y/N’s shaking hand and gently placed the ring on her finger, it fit perfectly, Y/N knew Kylo had crafted it for her. Y/N and Kylo leaned their foreheads together, laughing and crying, filled with so much raw joy, truly blissful.

MONTHS LATER:

Neither Y/N nor Kylo knew how to plan a wedding, but they weren’t worried, they knew that no matter what happened the day would be perfect. As far as the location went both Y/N and Kylo agreed they didn’t want to be wed on the dreadnought, after weeks of indecisiveness they agreed to hold a small ceremony on the planet of Naboo. They choose Naboo for its beautiful natural landscapes and rich history. As far as the ceremony goes, they decided to keep everything simple and to keep it a secret, they had everything they needed.

The day finally arrived, the couple took a ship secretly to the planet, Y/N had made her dress herself and kept it hidden from Kylo until the moment came. They decided to hold the ceremony at the Varykino lake retreat in Naboo’s Lake County, an area Y/N had not yet seen as Kylo insisted on adorning the location himself. As soon as they landed Y/N slipped away to get changed for the evening, there was a small lodge beside the retreat where the couple would be spending the night, it was a humble abode that had two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen and living area. Y/N slipped into one of the bedrooms and hid herself away until it was time for the ceremony. They had arranged for an officiant to meet them, a member of the brotherhood of cognizance who agreed to keep the wedding secret. Y/N stood by the window of her lodge, her wedding dress draped around her, she stared out into the night sky, mesmerized by the stars. She was brought out of her thoughts by a light tapping on the door, it was the Pontifex. “Madame,” He said, “It’s time.”

Kylo stood by the stone ledge on the side of the lake, the pontifex behind him, eagerly awaiting Y/N’s arrival. The entire balcony was lined with candles creating a soft glow, tiny lanterns hung in the trees above them like stars. Beside Kylo was a small table on the table were three candles but only the one in the center was lit. Y/N turned the corner and came into view, sending a chill down Kylo’s spine, she was truly beautiful. Her hair was elegantly tied up into an intricately braided bun except for two curly strands that framed her face. Y/N refused to wear a veil, not wanting to hide her face or her scar, instead, she downed a crown created out of brilliant crimson flowers, matching the color of her and Kylo’s lightsabers. Her dress was black, the bodice and sleeves created out of an elegant lace that fit her like a glove, accentuating each curve. The skirt fanned out into a beautiful train that followed her like a shadow. She carried one flower, the same as the ones in her hair. Kylo watched as she walked down the aisle, not breaking eye contact with the man. Kylo himself wore a sophisticated tuxedo, all black except the lining of his vest which was red. His vest was also embroidered with intricate designs. Y/N stopped across from Kylo, she reached over and clipped the flower to his jacket with shaking hands. The two stared at each other, the luminaries illuminating their faces, now wet with tears. The Pontifex came forward and began the ceremony.

Kylo and Y/N decided they wanted to recite vows they wrote to each other and so they took turns. Kylo went first, reaching forwards and taking hold of Y/N’s hands he looked into her eyes and said:

“Y/N, from the moment I met you I knew you were much more than you seemed to be, from the moment we touched hands I knew you were my soulmate. And it scared me, it scared me how someone I knew nothing about could suddenly mean so much to me. You came into my life like a crashing wave, quickly and without direction but with a purpose, a purpose neither of us understood at the time, but a purpose I understand now. I tried to hide my feelings from you, tried to cover up the truth because I was worried you’d be my weakness, I know now that you are my strength, you are the part of me I didn’t know I was missing until you showed me the truth. You are my guiding light, the calm after the storm, you are the millions of stars in the galaxy that all say the same thing, you and I were meant to be together. And I vow that I will never leave your side, I will stand by you, come what may I will stand by you. I will support your beautiful dreams, lift your spirits and carry you when you cannot carry yourself. I will love you until the end of time and beyond. Nothing in the entire galaxy can tear us apart, you are the other half of my heart, the other half of my soul and with this ring, I ask you to be mine.” He took the gold band from his pocket and slipped it onto her finger next to her engagement ring. With tears in her eyes, Y/N took a breath trying to calm herself before saying:

“Kylo, before I met you my life had no meaning, it was like a bad dream that played over and over again, but the day you came to me, a veil was lifted. That day we met, the day you stole me away you also stole my heart and my soul and I knew from the moment we met that I loved you. It was a secret part of me I tried to keep hidden away, but like a flower, it grew with each passing moment, with each spoken word or stolen glace, with each brush and bump, with each dream,” She paused, taking in the moment. “With each dream we shared, my love for you grew, and I knew that I would do anything for you. You were the first person to show me love, and you are the person that I love most of all. You are my kindred spirit, you are the anchor that keeps me grounded and the wings that lift me up, you are the light at the end of the tunnel that was my life and now, I am basking in your glow. I will love you until the end of time and beyond because our bond is stronger than hatred, violence or even death and with this ring, I ask you to be mine.” She pulled out a golden band, their initials carved into the metal, and slipped it onto Kylo’s finger.

The Pontifex lifted the two candles and handed them to the couple, “The love we make is like a fire, alone it burns brightly,” He signaled for the two to light their candles from the flame of the luminary in the center. “But with others, it’s blaze grows into something truly magnificent.” Y/N and Kylo set down their candles, the flames glowing in the night air. The Pontifex turned towards Y/N, “Y/N, do you promise to take this man as your husband, to honor and cherish him, to support and protect him, through all of life’s adversities?”

“I do,” Y/N replied. “And do you, Kylo Ren, promise to take this woman as your wife, to honor and cherish her, to support and protect her, through all of life’s adversities?”

“I do,” Kylo answered.

“Then by the power vested in me by the Brotherhood of Cognizance, I pronounce you, man and wife.”

Kylo and Y/N leaned forward, sealing the ceremony with a kiss. Kylo wrapped his arms around Y/N, both of them taking in the moment of pure bliss. They parted and looked into each other’s eyes, glowing in the candlelight. Kylo placed a kiss on Y/N’s forehead and took her hand in his, before walking down the aisle back towards the lodge. The couple barely made it halfway down the aisle when a loud rumbling sounded from below, turning back towards the ledge the two were blinded by a sudden bright light illuminating from a ship, the wind extinguishing each candle. The ship landed on the platform before the hatch lowered and a group of men ran out each dressed in dark red robes, with red masks that covered their faces. Kylo instinctively reached for his lightsaber only to remember it wasn’t there. The men raced towards the couple, each armed with a stunning blaster, two armed with lethals. The man armed with a lethal weapon shot the pontifex, killing him instantly. Kylo extended his arm, sending some of the men flying backward, Y/N did the same. The couple now stood back to back, unsure of what to do next. Quickly Y/N kicked off her heels and grabbed Kylo’s hand, “Run!” She shouted, the two began to race back towards the lodge when suddenly Y/N was pulled backwards through the air. “Y/N!” Kylo yelled. The girl landed roughly on the concrete, her dress breaking her fall. She tried to stand but was held down by a great force, “Kylo!” She shouted, “I-I can’t move!” “Of course you can’t,” A mysterious voice sounded, Y/N tilted her head to see a man dressed in black exit the ship, his arm reached out towards Y/N, he was the one holding her down. “Another force user?” Y/N gasped, Kylo raced towards the man who merely stuck out his second arm and shot Kylo back to the other side of the balcony. “Stun him.” The man ordered, Kylo stood up and lunged towards the man furiously before two guards shot him simultaneously, sending him crumpling to the ground. “KYLO!” Y/N cried, watching her husband fall to the floor in pain. She tried desperately to move but her abilities were useless against this man’s raw strength, she eventually was able to lift her arm, reaching for the man she clenched her grasp around his throat, catching him off guard and causing him to release her, she stood and bolted for Kylo only to be stunned moments later by the same guards. Having only been shot once she was still conscious, but paralyzed, she looked over at Kylo, blood dripping down his temple, she wanted so desperately to help him. Suddenly she felt her body lift off the ground, the man had picked her up. She couldn’t see his face but watched as he carried her onto the ship. The man placed her gently onto a bench before heading to the bridge, a tear trickled down her cheek as she felt the ship take off still unsure of what was going on or why it was happening...

TO BE CONTINUED.....

So, here’s the thing. I love this story so much I am going to make a sequel!! I’m adding on to this storyline, the new story will be released soon and I will continue it in the same format I’ve written this story. I am so excited! The first chapter won’t be released for a few days because I am still working out plot points, but it is coming soon!! I’m so glad you all enjoyed this story it was truly the most fun thing to write and I am quite proud. I hope you enjoy the sequel, let me know if you want a tag list and I’ll start one.

Thank you!!!

#Star Wars #star wars fanfiction #Star Wars imagine #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo imagine #wedding #soulmate au

28 notes · View notes