#jeremy blaire my beloved

[elizabetak]

Here's the first moodboard that I made, these are the characters you voted for, I'll be making another poll for the second part maybe this October or November

Part 3

Part 2

[elizabetak]

Me listening to Jer's groaning (and then putting it as my sound notification)

gotta be one of my favorite music genres, fr

[upshoredownthemiles]

Outlast Headcanons: Dog Matching

What kind of dog would Miles, Waylon and Jeremy be?

[waylon-parked]

in honor of venom 2 getting delayed, here are a few scene redraws from a venom/outlast au me and nyo put together

[elizabetak]

Self shippers trying to explain why they wanna kiss a fictional character that has a lot of red flags and wouldn’t be best person to date irl

[elizabetak]

It's my birthday! 🥳🥳

Jeremy's pic belongs to: @ship-inabottle (also matching pfps with them)

[terrainofheartfelt]

Gossip Girl Playlists: Theatre Kid AU edition!—Dan’s

[Blair’s] [Nate’s] [Serena's]

I don’t even remember exactly how this started, but it’s @strideofpride’s fault. 

The concept began as: if they were in this world, what would be in the GG mains’ MT books? What would be their go-to song? Their 16 bar cut? And then, I got on spotify, and got wayyyy too carried away (typical me), and it sort of morphed into: what are the NJBC’s (plus Daniel’s) senior musical theatre recital programs? And now I have this: a quartet of playlists of repertoire handpicked by me for these fake people, and I am very proud of them. 

All selections based on my very particular taste, honed from a childhood in community theater, an adolescence in high school musicals, and a 4 year degree from a majority musical theatre school

And, as in the tradition of Glee and all plays within a play, the rep reflects something profoundly personal about the character, because you know I love a theme. 

Oh Danny boy, my darling. In MT land, he has…sort of the inverse of Nate’s conundrum. He is Leading Man Material, but he gets kind of shoehorned into character stuff because he’s just good at his job. But – come on, this guy? He’s a romantic, and he SHINES in the ~romance~ 

Like, we should always keep talking about he and blair playing opposite each other in all the shows in all the aus amen. 

Like, we should always keep talking about he and blair playing opposite each other in all the shows in all the aus amen. 

His type: the wide-ranging baritenor. He can go low, and there’s an understated richness to his voice that lends itself to that, but I see Dan having the vocal control to do less “singy” roles as well. I think he ends up leaning more into tenor than Nate, like in classical crossover he’d sit just that much higher, but his voice is bigger, which is how I’m justifying the Street Scene song below. Also, in listening to Badgley sing other stuff, he can do that hook into his falsetto and come back belting and it’s hella tender and hella sexy.  And, by nature of his background plus the training a degree would give him, Dan can navigate a wide range of styles, which is hwy of the playlists, this one is…the most all over the place, but I have a reason for all of it, I swear, which is: I do what I want. 

Also: musician!Dan my beloved. He would play piano and guitar and mayhaps…another instrument?

References: Aaron Tveit (lol I know. Cousin Tripp. That guy); Jeremy Jordan; Steven Pasquale; Zachary Levi; Mandy Patinkin; and another guy I know from college, he came into my voice studio for a masters in opera but when he left he could do anything from a gorgeous lyric tenor to Che in Evita and Angel in Rent (he could sing the shit out of them, but those roles shan’t appear in this playlist, because this guy is latino and Dan is not. You know what I mean)

the tracklist:

Tonight at Eight — She Loves Me

Another instance of “S is always right” seriously go read her theatre kid au. 

After months of exchanging letters with his penpal (unbeknownst to him, his workplace nemesis), Georg anxiously awaits meeting her. Tonight. At eight. 

Something’s Coming — West Side Story

Dan is Leading Man Agenda. 

Tony’s best friend Riff convinces him to come to the Dance at the Gym tonight, and Tony, to quote the prophet billy shakes “dream’d a dream” about it

I Could Be in Love with Someone Like You — The Last Five Years

JRB songs are too long when you’re sitting in studio class, but damn. they fuck. 

And for how cynical I got over this musical in college (because every bitch sings Still Hurting), it is a fantastic and clever piece. It’s the story of a couple, from falling in love to marrying to falling apart, told chronologically from Jamie’s perspective, and reverse-chronologically from Cathy’s perspective. 

It’s also semi-autobiographical. A semi-autobiographical work about a star crossed couple and their breakup GEE SOUND FAMILIAR?!

Anyways, this song was replaced after the workshop with “Shiska Goddess”—which was the correct choice, but I like the character study in this song. 

At the beginning of their relationship, Jamie is starting to fall for Cathy, and her Irish heritage may or may not have something to do with it. 

Wondering — The Bridges of Madison County

Again, I love this musical so much. I am a stan, I will accept no criticism. 

After an “almost kiss” kind of moment with the kind woman he meant in the countryside, Robert ponders the moment and the chemistry he felt. With one of the most unhinged (compliment) bridges (pun not intended) in MT. daircore

Leave — Once

It’s guitar!dan time! You think theatre kid dan wouldn’t be all about Once?

(also it’s one of my favorite musicals and OCRs so it gets a whole set. My house.)

Guy’s first big solo, written and performed coming off being dumped. 

Say It to Me Now — Once

Guy plays an audition for a banker of all people, to get a loan so he can take his demo from Dublin to NYC

Falling Slowly (duet w/ Blair) — Once

Guy’s sworn off music, but when a Girl finds sheet music in his jacket, she cajoles him into playing it with her. 

Up on the Roof — Beautiful: The Carole King Musical

I’ve got a lot of opinions on jukebox musicals, mostly that we have enough of them. If Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson can write originals then no one else has any excuse. But this one is good. Because it’s Carol. 

This is the James Taylor number of the show. So of course Dan has to sing it. 

One Song Glory — Rent

As an Opera Person, I will always harbor a soft spot for 90s rock La Boheme. And it really fits Dan’s son-of-a-90s-rocker schtick doesn’t it?

And like, I think it’s easy to get corny about it, like, we all sang seasons of love at high school graduation, but it really is a masterwork. Andrew Garfield Jonathan Larson was a genius. And, like Boheme, people get swept in the ~romance~ and have to be reminded of how fucking raw it is. 

Like I didn’t really understand this song until I saw the show in undergrad, and sung by a guy who was just — born for it. He and Aaron Tveit. They get what it means. 

Roger is a musician living with HIV and depression (and his documentarian roommate and bff Mark), and is convinced that he won’t be alive very much longer, and all he wants is to write just one song that he can be remembered for. 

Lonely House — Street Scene

Street Scene is a show that plays jump rope with the line between opera and musical theatre, and it really just depends on the singer. Dan would, have big enough classical chops to sing this, but give it a more mt bent, which I wouldn’t hate. 

As someone who leans more on the side of classical in my preferences, sometimes I think operatic tenors overdo it on this song. Honestly if companies didn’t make up the stupid ass rule that every voice type has to have a contemporary aria in their package, operatic tenors wouldn’t sing this as much as they do. But that’s a rant for another time. 

And I remember a colleague singing this to close out a recital program, and we were in this church that had one (1) door, and after he sung, during the outro, he walked right out the door. And it ROCKED. So I think it’s a good act closer. 

Sam lives in an apartment block packed with people, but doesn’t really have anyone.

She Loves Me — She Loves Me

Recital act two opener let’s goooooo

Georg finds out who his penpal is. And he has Feelings about it. 

So in Love — Kiss Me, Kate

Another enemies to lovers plot! or well, lovers to enemies to lovers again. 

This is the reprisal to the song Lilli sings at the beginning of the show, now sung by her ex husband, Fred. His italicized oh moment. 

And the music & lyrics are….sexc

Hero and Leander — Myths and Hymns

Another Adam Guettel offering! Do I have an agenda? Only to be an evil dictator of taste.

Speaking of, this song cycle/revue is such a rare gem that a decent recording of a decent singer is so hard to find, that I had to settle for the mashup Tveit did in his 54 below show. So, when you get to this track, if you want to skip the first…minute and 30 seconds, then you’ll get straight to this song. 

(the first one is from Next to Normal, and is beautifully sung of course, it’s just irrelevant in terms of this playlist

— bc while Tveit could sing Gabe in his 20s, I don’t think Dan Humphrey could.) 

It’s got that falsetto hook that I just know Dan would be good at. 

This show doesn’t have a plot, it’s a revue, so each song is like its own contained story. This one is about the myth of Hero and Leander. 

Leander would swim across the sea every night to meet with his lover Hero, until the gods sent a storm, and on one of his nightly swims, he drowns. Those greek myths amirite. 

When We Dance (trio w/ Blair & Nate) — The Last Ship

Another selection from Sting’s opus that deserves more love!

I think if you’re looking at this meta-wise, Dan’s character is more in line with the other male lead—steady, supportive, romantic, the “right” choice, but hey, they’re Acting, and musically, the main guy’s part is better. And this trio is just sooooo pretty. 

And it can be ot3-esque if you want it to be (I know I do).

After running away from his tiny shipbuilding hometown, Gideon returns fifteen years later to make his move on the girl he left behind, Meg. she’s having none of it, she has a new man (Arthur), and a kid that’s fifteen years old give or take nine months. Her new man also pleads his case. 

One Second and a Million Miles (duet w/ Blair)  — The Bridges of Madison County

Thee big duet of the show. Facing the end of their time alone together, Robert proposes that Francesca come with him when he leaves town. It’s just—promise me you’ll listen to it. There’s nothing like it. “If I Loved You” MAYBE. But nothing else like it. 

Later — A Little Night Music

My guy would absolutely have a sondheim set in his recital I just know it in my heart.

(I’ve seen guys sing this song and play the cello part live themselves, so, why not Dan?)

It’s a complicated domestic drama about a privileged family and all their internal troubles (sound familiar?)

Henrik, a lawyer’s son & lutheran seminary student, is an over-serious over-thinker, and now he’s got to fucking deal with his dad marrying a woman who’s younger than him—and yikes I just realized how close this hits god fucking help me. 

ANYWAYS this is staged with Henrik either actually playing the cello or just miming it, and I find that. very attractive.

Losing My Mind — Follies

Originally written for Dorothy Collins for a women's role, Jeremy Jordan gave a cabaret performance that still blows me away every time I listen. 

And it is BIG Daniel Humphrey Professional Yearner energy

Sally, a former star of the Ziegfield Follies, sings this ballad about Ben, the one that got away. (dairfair vibes, if you will?)

Move On (duet w/ Serena) — Sunday in the Park with George

Probably one of thee best songs in the MT zeitgeist.

It gets me every.single.time

George Seurat (french pointillist) and his lover Dot have a great grandson also named George, who is also an artist struggling to just fucking make something. 

Dot appears to him in a vision, speaks to him like he’s her George (I mean they’re both Mandy Patinkin, so), and they exchange the most poignant lyrics about art and creativity that have ever been written. Oh, Stephen <3

Being Alive — Company

You might say that this one is overdone, but when it’s done well, it always Hits.

and you KNOW Dan would do it right. 

The always single Bobby, in the midst of his paired off friends, rails at the futility of romantic relationships until he finally admits what he really wants: that. 

Don’t Stop — Fleetwood Mac

Because he has to sing an encore with Jenny. Come on, him at the piano, Jen sitting next to him, I can see it :)

[lobstereo]

on december 27th, less than a full 48 hours after christmas, a targeted murder spree ripped through the denver and lakewood areas at the hands of a white supremacist. the denver tattoo community is grieving mentors and friends, children are grieving parents, and families are facing the unthinkable tragedy of burying loved ones instead of making new years plans with them. and none of this was random.

the attack began at the long-standing tattoo shop Sol Tribe on 1st and Broadway in Denver. the owner, Alicia Cardenas, was one of his first victims.

Alicia was born and raised here and was a central figure in our tattoo, mural, and indigenous communities. she owned her first shop at 19, helped to pioneer hygiene in the tattoo and piercing industry throughout the past 20 years, and opened the doors for so many in our city. i only met her in passing a handful of time, i think we may have spoken twice, and just from that i can say the warmth and strength she radiated was palpable. she was truly the matriarch of the denver tattoo community, and she turned the process of tattooing into a ritual, transmogrifying pain into power. she leaves behind her father and a 12 year old daughter. as her father said, she was like nobody you'd ever meet.

the second victim of Sol Tribe is Alyssa Gunn-Maldonado. She was a beloved yoga teacher in Denver who introduced many to their practice, and the loving wife of Jimmy, a long time artist at the shop that grew his career alongside Alicia's. Jimmy is currently hospitalized with multiple gun shot wounds. He is expected to recover, but he will have to recover without his wife, or his friend. Jimmy and Alyssa have a 12 year old son. these were good, good people who opened their arms to many and never hesitated to offer help.

after this, the killer murdered 67 year old Michael Swinyard in his own apartment, following a plan that he detailed in a book that he PUBLISHED in 2018. the same book named many of the targets in the attack. the killer owned a shop that went under in 2017, and knew most everyone involved.

he then targeted another shop owner, Justin Costilow, in his own home as well. Justin has been recovering from a near fatal motorcycle accident that has kept him from working, despite needing to support his shop, girlfriend, and newborn daughter. LUCKILY, the three managed to escape and find safety at World Tattoo on 6th, but Justin's leg was severely affected and his recovery has been set back. in addition, the killer set fire to both his car and van full of tattoo supplies, valued at $50k, that Jeremy was intending on selling to make rent and support his family. the killer previously left Jeremy threatening flyers and information about his book, where Jeremy was one of those named.

the killer then drove to Lucky 13 Tattoo on Colfax and Kipling in Lakewood. i once worked in a store RIGHT behind this shop, that's how close to home this all is. the killer walked in, murdered Danny Scofield aka Dano Blair, and left in the span of 10 seconds. Dano was also a friend and mentor to many, and a father of three children. his ex wife described him as a family man who loved everyone regardless of their story or origin. his shopmates have lost "an awesome human being, a great father, son, and brother."

the killer then fled to the belmar shopping district, where he shot a young hotel clerk, Sarah Steck. he did not know her, but had a previous vendetta against the Hyatt where she worked. tragically, she died from her injuries the following morning. she's been described as a beautiful, kind, and loving person who would go out of her way to help people. she had an infectious laugh and loved kittens, art, and music.

the killer was FINALLY neutralized after he shot a police officer in belmar, in the street corner where i fucking went to cosmetology school. police reported the initial shooting on broadway, and then encrypted their scanners, and provided NO updates to the situation until after he had died. and it was just to say an officer had been shot. no notification of additional shootings, no warning of tattoo shops being targeted; everyone in the scene had to rely on each other to learn information and notify families. the police also gave conflicting initial statements: the killer had "been on their radar" in the past and they had looked into him at least twice; but also, he had no criminal or arrest record, so the police never had reason to suspect him.

this is purely my own speculation, but considering Denver is quite literally built on a foundation of white surpremacy, i would not be surprised if he had friends on the inside who enabled him.

because of this man, children will be entering the new year without parents who should be here. parents will be entering the new year having to grapple with outliving their children who should be here. lovers are walking forward without their partners who should be here. the outpouring of support, care, remembrance and celebration of these lives show how important and beloved they were.

finally, because there's no fucking protocol on your boss being killed by a white supremacist in your own fucking shop, sol tribe will be closed for the foreseeable future while the matter is settled. all 12 artists have had to cancel all upcoming appointments and will be out of work in the wake of this. someone i consider a mentor got his start in denver at this shop, because of alicia. i cherish my ink from this shop, have fond memories of my friend champing through her rib tattoo here; i encountered alicia for the first time when she poked well-meaning fun at how the ribs are a bitch. ice cream next door at sweet action. drinks at sputnik down the road, shows at hi-dive, late nights sobering up at piehole back next to sol tribe. broadway is our local haunt, and we're all doing what we can to support our community; we are all one tribe.

[elizabetak]

Thank you so much 💖💖 I love it

JEREMY BLAIRE

requested by @elizabetak

[specialofficerlemons]

Do Not Covet

Fandom: Outlast: Whistleblower

Summary: Waylon convinces Eddie to try and escape Mount Massive with him, but there is someone waiting for them in the lobby that Waylon hoped to never see again.

Rating: E

Warnings: Rape/Non-con, major character death, graphic deptictions of violence (seriously, dead dove do not eat)

Pairing: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Jeremy Blaire/Waylon Park

Notes: This is really dark so please mind the warnings and take care of yourself. Also the timing doesn't totally work out so just don't think about it too hard lol

Word Count: 4429

Waylon could name a million times in his life he felt safer than he did now, but in the past month? This was definitely the safest he had felt by a long shot. He walked in step behind Eddie, holding onto his belt as they had agreed he would be best at defending them with both hands, but they didn't want to be separated under any circumstances. Whenever they paused in doorways and Eddie checked to make sure the coast was clear, Waylon would bury his face into his back for comfort, taking in his heat and his smell. Eddie was his protector, Eddie was his caretaker, Eddie would be there for him, Eddie loved him. And as much as he tried to smother that crazy, genuinely crazy part of his mind, he could feel himself starting to love Eddie- the possessive touches, the soft ones, the rough ones, the reassuring ones, the ones seeking reassurance. He owed Eddie his life. He belonged to him. He was his bride

"Is that…is that really it?" Waylon asked, peeking around his protector. "I've never seen the front door."

The lobby was littered with corpses and body parts of people who almost made it, but Waylon didn't see any of that, he just saw daylight. He tugged on his husband's shirt, anxious to get out now that it was so close.

"Careful darling, we're not out of the woods yet," Eddie warned, wisely.

"Eddie, it's right there, please, we're almost free! Think about the possibilities!" He stepped around the bigger man and tugged him forward out of the relative safety of the doorway. "We-we could start a family and have a home! A h-home with a white picket fence and a garden and a yard where the kids could play!" He twirled back to look at his beloved, his new dress flaring up around him. He kept talking as he guided Eddie further and further into the lobby towards the door as he was clearly uncomfortably with such an open space. "You-you could have a studio where you could do your sewing, o-or you could open up your own shop! And when you're done at the end of the day you could come home and I would have dinner all prepared for you and act like a proper wife should treat her husband," This part he said quietly, pressed against Eddie's front.

They were so close to the door, so close to freedom.

"W-Waylon Park?"

Waylon's blood ran cold. He was frozen as Eddie dashed around him, brandishing his blade.

There was a rattle of a laugh that Waylon refused to believe in. But he couldn't let his freedom be stolen like this. He slowly turned around and sure enough, one of the corpses wasn't a corpse. It was on track to be, certainly, judging by the wound in its gut. "No…" he whispered.

"Waylon…" Eddie growled. "Have you been seeing another man behind my back?"

Waylon could have laughed if he weren't terrified. "No, sweetie, no!" he immediately tried to soothe, rubbing one hand along Eddie's back, but Eddie turned towards him with the blade and he recoiled. "He was my b-boss! At my job!"

Eddie sneered. "Your pimp?" he offered, half humorously. The disgust was evident in the curl of his upper lip. "I know exactly what women get up to with their managers!"

"Dear, I promise it wasn't like that!"

"Well, it was a little like that."

Waylon's jaw dropped and both he and Eddie turned to stare at the man sitting on the floor. Waylon realized with horror what Jeremy Blaire was about to do.

Eddie looked back at Waylon with fire in his eyes.

"Don't you remember those long, late nights in the lab or when I would call you into my office privately?" Jeremy Blaire asked with a sick smile.

While Waylon had worked a number of all-nighters and crunch shifts, Jeremy Blaire was rarely, if ever seen in his department. And when he was called into the man's office it was just to curse and spit at him.

Eddie lunged at Waylon and wrapped on large hand around his throat. "Whore!" he shouted accusatorily. He lifted Waylon up and with one strong swing of his arm threw him to the ground by Jeremy Blaire's slouched form.

"Well aren't a sight for sore eyes," the man spat at him. As much as he was clearly trying to anger Eddie, his anger towards Waylon was just underneath the thin veneer of deceit.

Waylon scrabbled towards to the inmate. "Eddie, he's lying- you mustn't believe him!" Suddenly a hand wrapped around  one of his ankles and yanked him back. Waylon screamed in pain as his injured leg was pulled on.

Jeremy laughed, his breath wheezing and rattling. "What the hell are you wearing? Why are you wearing a dress?"

Eddie briefly reacted, making an aborted motion to lunge at Jeremy when he saw him lay hands on Waylon, then paused and watched what he was doing. "You filthy bitch!" he spat. "You just love his hands on you, don't you? You're not even fighting back!"

Waylon gaped. "Eddie, he's hurting me!"

"I thought you were different!" Eddie continued. "I thought you were a good woman, a moral woman! I thought you were too easy for me but I told myself you were so excited to consummate our marriage. How wrong I was! You'll spread your legs for any man who looks your way, won't you?"

Waylon was shaking his head as Eddie continued to rave about Waylon's perceived infidelities. "No, Eddie, no!"

"Is that why you were so eager to get here? You wanted to reunite with your old flame? Well don't let me get in the way! Go on!" He gestured towards them.

"Eddie you can't be serio-"

He was cut off by Jeremy Blaire pulling him closer, pulling him up by the back of his dress and planting a kiss right on his lips. When the man pulled back, Waylon stared at him in silent shock. "Missed you babe," was all he had to say.

After a moment, he snapped out of his reverie and turned to Eddie who had sunk down into a squat to watch them more closely. "Eddie you have to believe me! I've never kissed this man before in my life!" He tried to pull out of Jeremy's grip when he felt something sharp poke into his abdomen. He looked down and saw the shard of glass Jeremy clutched, poised to sink into his midsection.

"I recommend you stay right where you are, sweetie," Jeremy hissed in his ear.

"Eddie, please!" he gasped out.

"Wow, Park, this dress, uh, really," he had to stop to snort a laugh, "it really accentuates your curves," he finished sarcastically.

Waylon glared at him, but couldn't speak the words he had in his mind in defense of his beautiful dress that he loved that Eddie made for him.

"I wonder what other new goodies you're wearing…" Jeremy purred before flipping up his skirt and exposing the naughty panties Eddie had made for him.

Still afraid of the blade, Waylon was afraid to do more than plunge a hand in between his legs to cover himself, but his attempts at trying to woo Eddie back to him renewed. "Eddie! Help me! Please! Don't let him touch me anymore!"

"Wow!" Jeremy laughed and snapped the waistband of the panties. "Maybe your new boyfriend's right, maybe you are a slut, dressed like that." Jeremy passed his blade into the other hand so he could manhandle Waylon into a position where he was sitting in between his legs. He pressed his lips to Waylon's ear. "Don't you worry, Mr. Park, I'm going to take very good care of you…"

Tears spilled out of Waylon's eyes. Surely the glass blade was now visible, surely it was obvious that he was being held under duress, so why was Eddie only watching, stone faced, toying with his own blade, as Jeremy ran his hands up and down his chest.

"I can't believe I never thought of putting you in women's underwear," he muttered as if he were talking about the weather. "I mean, it's not really my thing, but the idea of you walking around the lab or the break-room with lacy panties on underneath your uniform, maybe one of those cute little bralettes, stockings even, trying to hide it under your sloppy button up and slacks. Just trying to go without being noticed…I wonder how long you would last…" As he talked he started undoing the buttons on the front of his dress. Waylon tried to push the two halves back together, but Jeremy Blaire wouldn't allow it. He jabbed the glass into Waylon's side enough for it to hurt and used his other hand to force Waylon's arms to his sides. "Be a good little dear, that's right."

Waylon found it strange that his former boss was whispering so tenderly into his ear instead of shouting and lording over him like he would normally. It wasn't like him. He realized with a sickening feeling that it was a show for Eddie to make it seem more loving than it actually was- to make him angrier.

"I can't say I'm disappointed in this turn of events. At first, when I saw you, I was disgusted," he paused to strip the upper half of the dress from his shoulders, encouraging him to pull his arms through by scraping him with the glass. "I thought, "the last thing I see before I die is Waylon fucking Park? You gotta be kidding me!" But it's really turned around." He rolled his hips against Waylon's rear for emphasis. "If I have to be miserable when I die, at least I get to go out making you miserable too!" He'd been peppering his neck with soft kisses as he spoke, but he broke his character of tender lover and sank his teeth into Waylon's neck causing him to scream in pain.

"Feel that?" he asked when he pulled his teeth out of Waylon's tender flesh. Waylon wasn't sure what he mean until he thrust his hips and he could feel the erection in the man's pants. "You, as a person, disgust me, but I'm imagining what Gluskin did to you. Tell me, did he rape you first? Or did he make you play house before he fucked you? And now, what- now you love him? It's a good thing I had you committed because it turns out you actually are crazy!" Jeremy laughed.

"Eddie please!" Waylon cried out again, desperate. He leaned as far as he could tolerate into the glass shard to escape Jeremy's fingers on his chest as they danced across it, playing with his nipples. The walls he'd built were crumbling down and his mind was incredibly fragile. "Eddie don't let him do this to me! Don't you love me? Why would you let another man touch me? I'll be ruined!"

Eddie was unmoved.

Jeremy sighed with pleasure. He pushed Waylon forward so his chest was on the floor, keeping him pinned underneath him with one arm while he used his free hand to undo his belt and his pants. "Just listen to you," he whined. "This psycho has done to you in a matter of days what I wasn't able to do to you in months. I'll have to learn his technique." He lifted the hem of Waylon's dress and used his shard of glass to slice through the waistband of his panties and Waylon renewed his efforts to get away. Jeremy wrestled him still, pinning him to the floor with the weight of his body and positioning the glass shard to his throat.

"Look at him over there," Jeremy whispered in his ear conspiratorially. Waylon did, pleading with his eyes full of tears. Eddie stared back at them, unblinking. "You haven't figured it out yet have you?" Jeremy chuckled. "He's not doing this to punish you, he's doing this because he likes it. He wants to see. He wants to see you get fucked by another man. Then he wants to punish you for it." This time he cackled and ground his pelvis against his rear. Waylon let out a sob and Jeremy let out a smear a pre-cum. "How does that make you feel, Waylon? That the man who "loves" you wants to see you get fucked by another man right in front of him? That he wants to watch you get raped?"

Waylon's mind was shattered as he was being exposed to the truth. Eddie's face was expressionless, but he had learned  to read the minute details in his body language in order to survive with him. The way his chest pulled as he breathed, the way his hands danced along his blade, the way his eyes were so focused… Jeremy was right. His psyche was torn in two: one half was screaming in pain, crying out still for Eddie to come rescue him, the other half was telling him to bail on a sinking ship and latch onto the newest antagonizing rapist and give into Jeremy. He could be a good girl for Jeremy just like he was for Eddie. He could be a good girl. Maybe then he could at least trigger Eddie into attacking them and it would all be over.

"Hey! Wake up down there, shit for brains!" Jeremy growled, slapping him upside the head. "I didn't say you could go to sleep!" Waylon realized that as his mind was tearing itself apart he'd gone still and while he was no longer fighting back against Jeremy, he was also no longer being entertaining.

"You…ruin everything…" Waylon sobbed quietly into his arm.

Jeremy barked a laugh. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Now look at your dearest while I fuck you!" Jeremy grabbed Waylon by the hair and yanked back, forcing his head up, forcing him to look at Eddie. He felt the blunt prodding of Jeremy's cock head at his asshole and closed his eyes. "I said look!" Jeremy shouted, long since abandoning pretending to be a gently lover. He pulled harder at his hair and Waylon forced his eyes open.

"Eddie, honey, don't look at me!" he pleaded softly. "Don't- I don't want you to see me like this…" He knew it was helpless. Eddie wanted to see him like this.

He screamed when Jeremy entered him. It hurt, it hurt so much. He hadn't been stretched at all, there was no lube. It couldn't even feel good for Jeremy, but he knew that feeling good wasn't the point of it for him. The point was to hurt Waylon. His fingernails he'd kept long and feminine scraped against the floor and broke. His body instinctively lurched away from Jeremy into the blade, cutting his neck. He could make out Eddie's face through the tears and he saw, quick as a flash, his tongue poke out to lick his lips.

Waylon left his body. Jeremy either didn't notice or didn't care that he went completely rigid on the floor underneath him and stopped responding.

It felt like he was back in the morphogenic engine. Really, it was possible that he never left. This could honestly all be hallucinations. Everything- the breakdown at Murkoff, running for his life, meeting Eddie- maybe this was brain cancer finally getting to him. He could see the shapes from the engine floating hazily in front of his vision. He wondered if he would wake up to attention from Andrew. That's probably where he got all these ideas, spending however many hours getting fondled and licked by that creep. Was that better than what he was going through now? Than what he'd been through?

As tears dripped from his eyes, he started to laugh. Jeremy paused in his thrusting to look at him angrily. "What's so fucking funny?" he growled through grit teeth.

Waylon didn't answer, just kept laughing.

Jeremy slapped him again. "Why the fuck are you laughing?" he shouted.

Waylon locked eyes with Eddie. He giggled and bit his lip. If they were going to paint him as a slut, he could work with that.

"Eddieee…" he called. His voice sounded like it was coming from another room, like it wasn't his own. He reached forward and gestured to Eddie, curling his finger towards him. Eddie cocked his head, curious. "Aren't you going to punish me?" he asked.

"What?" Jeremy asked, taken off guard.

Eddie seemed to mull it over before standing up to his full, intimidating height. Jeremy faltered as he approached. This was definitely not in his plan, as much as he had one. He pulled out, his cock going soft from fear. He pulled Waylon up by the hair and held the shard of glass to his neck.

"Any closer and I kill him!" he warned.

But Eddie no longer cared for Waylon's safety, so he kept coming slowly towards them.

"I'm serious!" Jeremy yelled.

"Are you gonna take that?" Waylon asked. "Are you gonna let him punish me when it should be you?"

Jeremy looked at Waylon with anger, then his expression turned to horror when he realized Eddie was upon them. Before Jeremy could slice or stab Waylon, Eddie had drawn back his foot and kicked their combined bodies, sending them both flying backwards. Waylon had the wind knocked out of him, but Jeremy already had an open wound in his gut and had it much worse. His screamed in pain and curled up in a ball.

Jeremy was effectively neutralized, so Eddie bent over Waylon and grabbed him by the hair, much like Jeremy just had, and lifted him up to his knees. He was still gasping, trying to catch his breath, but he smiled up at Eddie.

"You…" Eddie started, taking a deep breath, "have been a very bad girl…"

Waylon giggled. "I have. I have been very bad."

Eddie held his blade to Waylon's neck threateningly. "Why shouldn't I dispose of you right now, like the trash you are?" he hissed.

Waylon swallowed. "I can show you," he said carefully, "the things bad girls do."

Eddie was still and silent for an excruciating few moments before he lowered his blade and slipped it into the loop at his belt.

"Show me."

Eddie released Waylon's hair and Waylon stood on shaky legs. He had the idea that his body was sore, but he didn't really feel it. He could feel the sensation of wetness between his legs that might be blood or might be something else, but it didn't seem very important to him. Waylon clumsily gathered the two halves of his dress and put his arms in the sleeves and re-buttoned it, skipping every other button, not caring if they were in the correct holes or not.

Now that he was somewhat redressed, he started to put on a clumsy strip tease. He would lift the hem of his skirt slightly and then cover his mouth with his hand and let it drop back down, feigning modesty. He turned his back to Eddie and started to unbutton the buttons he had just done up. He would turn around a bit and turn back quickly to hide again. He slipped his arms out of his sleeves, but kept his chest covered and turned back to Eddie. He turned his hands around, his finger spread wide, mimicking a fan.

Eddie seemed to be content with allowing this circus to continue, but Jeremy was stirring from his pain and was furious.

"You freak!" he hissed. "You psycho! I was right to have you locked up! I should have raped you first and then killed you and saved myself the trouble!"

Waylon looked down at his former boss with an expression of boredom. "I think that's enough out of you," he stated, matter-of-factly. He walked over to the man, still curled up on the floor, and jammed his heel down into the gaping wound in his stomach. Jeremy cried out and clawed at Waylon's leg, jabbing the shard of glass into it, but Waylon just pressed down harder. It wasn't that he couldn't feel the pain, it was just that it didn't feel very important right now. Jeremy's grip on him grew weaker until he passed out from the pain and slumped against the ground.

Waylon knelt and pulled the shard of glass out of his leg. He looked at it curiously before looking to the unconscious body of Jeremy Blaire and jabbed the glass into his neck. Blood spurted from the wound when he pulled back, but he jabbed again and then again and eventually there was no more heartbeat to push the blood and it started to drain out of him sluggishly.

Waylon left the glass in Jeremy's neck and wiped his hands on Jeremy's suit. He looked down and saw the blood on his dress. "Oh, Eddie dear, I'm so sorry, I've made a terrible mess of the dress you made me-"

He was cut off when he felt Eddie press his body up against him from behind. He could clearly feel the erection Eddie was sporting in his pants.

"Eddie?" he asked.

Eddie spun him around and pinned his back to the floor. He was breathing very hard, almost wheezing. "That was…very naughty of you," he said. He propped himself up on one arm so he could look at Waylon properly. His chest was bare, the upper half of his dress was around his waist and he was splashed with blood. With his other hand he felt Waylon's chest, smearing the blood around. "You…are a bad girl!" When he said that, he leaned back so he could grab the lower half of his dress and rip it apart.

Waylon looked up at him blankly. "Eddie…you worked so hard on that dress…" was all he said.

Eddie slapped him across the face and then covered his mouth with his hand, now covered in Jeremy's blood. "Not…another word." Waylon was tempted to poke his tongue out and lick his hand.

Waylon was now completely naked except for the shreds of his dress and panties, his socks, and shoes.

"You know I can't abide by this kind of immoral behavior," Eddie attempted to scold, but the effect was kind of ruined by how he was rutting against Waylon's thigh.

Waylon, whose mind no longer prioritized things like survival, reached down and cupped the front of his pants. Eddie shuddered and groaned as Waylon stroked him through the fabric. Eddie leaned his forehead against the blood covered floor as Waylon pleasured him. As he stroked, Waylon's other hand crept down to the side of his pants where the loop that held his knife was and softly slipped it free. Eddie was muttering something about wanton, promiscuous women against the floor when Waylon stabbed it into his side.

Eddie screamed directly into Waylon's ear and he jerked away from the sound on instinct. Eddie reared back, but Waylon's grip held firm around the hilt of the knife and as the bigger man moved away from him it cut through his flesh, widening the wound. Eddie still had the wherewithal to draw back and land a solid right hook directly in the center of Waylon's face. Waylon was pretty sure he could feel his nose break on impact. He wondered if a shard would be driven up into his brain and kill him. He kind of hoped it would.

"You're just like all the others!" Eddie hissed as he pulled the knife from his bleeding belly. He turned it in his hands and drove it into Waylon. "I would've loved you forever!"

Waylon smiled at him and cupped his face gently. At first, Eddie flinched away from him. His scars were always sensitive. Then, he leaned into the touch. Waylon pulled him down to kiss him tenderly. "I would have loved you too," he whispered back. And with that, he jammed his fingers into the wound he had made, clawing like a wild animal. Eddie tried to pull away from him, but Waylon gripped him tightly and wrapped his legs around him as he dug through his flesh. The bigger man tried to thrash out of his grip, but Waylon just kissed him again, his teeth digging deep into his tongue until it severed it cleanly. Unsure what to do with it, Waylon swallowed. He laughed. "Now you'll always be with me!"

Eddie who had been scratching at Waylon and attempting to smash him against the floor started to grow weak. Waylon felt his fingers grasp around something solid, but jelly like and he pulled. He wasn't sure what came out of Eddie. It just looked like a wet, red lump. Eddie stopped moving and closed his eyes, slumping over just like Jeremy had, though he was still breathing. Waylon didn't stop. He reached back into Eddie and kept clawing until he found another organ and pulled. This one was long and tube shaped so he thought it might be some kind of intestine, but what did he know. He was an IT guy, not an anatomist.

This time, he didn't reach back into Eddie. His hands had started to grow cold and his head was ringing from being slammed against the floor. He realized that his other hand was still stroking Eddie through his pants and he could probably stop now. He laid still on the floor as the weight of Eddie pressed down on him. It was comforting. He could pretend it was just like when they would sleep in bed together. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore everything- all the pain, his broken nose, the tackiness of blood on his hands, the soreness of his knees from kneeling on the hard floor, the sharp smell of iron and decay from all the dead bodies that littered the lobby.

He was just about to slip into unconsciousness when he felt a cold wind blow over him. He opened his eyes weakly and saw what looked like a black cloud hovering over him. He cocked his head curiously at it. The black cloud descended over him and as he breathed in he could feel it enter his body.

The pain was erased, but he was filled with an overwhelming despair.

"I failed…" he muttered. "No one is ever going to know what happened here…"

I know he heard a voice in his head say. Now sleep.

And he did.

[the-creeping-shadow]

Echoes from the past [One-shot]

Characters: Michelle Haas, Richard Trager, Anna (OC), brief mention of Jeremy Blaire

Genres: Gen, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Slice of Life

Warnings: violence, blood. I’d rate the story T.

Summary: Another small glimpse into my character Anna’s story (albeit written from her mother’s perspective). A glimpse into one late evening for mother and daughter. 

Miscellaneous: AU (”the child was real”),  flashback, based on “The Murkoff Account��

Story under the cut. 

The door to her room was flung open with a loud bang. “Lying bitches! Both of them!” a loud male voice followed, seething. The one voice she had hoped not to hear on this day... or ever.  Wincing, Michelle turned around to see no one other than Rick Trager entering the office, his features twisted in pure rage. Spots of dried blood clung to his temple while red stains of some beverage tainted the collar of his pink shirt. The very sight of him made her heart thump. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as fear, grief, and the despair she has felt these past few months resurfaced once again, all at once in this moment. All this she has suffered because of him. Her fingers curled on her swollen belly. Michelle swallowed as tears began running down her face. Mummy? “You are too late, Rick! They know everything!” she got out with a hoarse voice. Rick immediately turned his attention to her, looking down at her with disdain. “You can't prove anything,” he retorted sharply. His hand reached for some object on the desk close to them. “You can't...” And too late did Michelle notice that the object turned out to be the large pair of scissors Mister Blaire had used to destroy her security clearances. Her eyes widened. “YOU HAVE NO PROOF!” Rick roared as he lifted the scissors, blades glinting in the electric light of the room, and brought them down on her with all of his strength – too fast for her to do anything. The blades pierced her upper abdomen. A horrible sharp pain went through her body. Blood seeped out of the gash in large quantities as the scissors were pulled out of her. Mummy?! Michelle screamed as she fell from her chair onto the hard floor with a thud. Loud noises sounded through the entire room, reminiscent of some scuffle. Hasty footsteps, voices, the whir of a paper shredder followed by a shriek. Everything seemed to pass her like a distant recording – she couldn't see what was happening, her sight fixed on the ceiling, the lights blindingly-bright. Her current world consisted of nothing but agony and red. Together with her blood her strength was fleeing her body – she felt like she would fall unconscious soon. A part of her even wished to seek the soothing embrace of sleep – a temporary escape from the pain. Her eyes began to close. Someone approached her, but she could not tell who or what for any more. All she knew was that she was carefully being lifted onto some soft surface. 'The baby...' was her last thought before darkness eventually engulfed her. Mummy! ...Michelle woke up in her own room at home, sitting on her bed. The door opposite to her stood wide open. She looked around, unsure of what was going on. The tears in her face still remained however while it seemed as though a large lump got stuck in her throat. Her heart kept hammering in her chest. Feeling herself embraced in a tight, warm hug, she looked down right in front of her to discover that it was her daughter who clung to her. Slowly piecing everything together, Michelle slowly moved her arms to reciprocate the hug, a sigh of relief escaping her. “Anna,” she said as she gently stroked her daughter's curly hair. Anna looked up at her with worry in her hazel eyes that were so similar to her own. “What happened, mummy?” “It... It's nothing really, sweetie. I just remembered something... sad,” Michelle replied, loosening the hug before wiping her tears away. The lump in her throat did not disappear though. “Could you bring mummy a glass of water please?” The little girl nodded, immediately standing up from the bed and leaving the bedroom to accomplish her task. Michelle took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Those memories just wouldn't ever leave her, just haunting her over and over again no matter how much time has passed ever since that happened. She watched as Anna returned with a full glass of water and couldn't help but smile warmly as her daughter approached the bed and handed the glass to Michelle. Anna had been the only good to come out of it all. Her sweet, little daughter - the child she had gone through so much for. “Thank you, sweetie,” Michelle said, taking the glass. She drank the water in one go, the cold liquid refreshing her. Her heart soon stopped thumping, the lump vanished. Placing the empty glass on her night table, she turned her attention to Anna again who kept looking at her with a questioning expression in her eyes. “I think it's time for you to go to sleep – it's dark outside already. You need a good night's rest,” Michelle remarked with a brief glance to the curtained window. It was dark outside indeed... and quiet. “Can I sleep with you tonight, mummy?” Anna asked, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “I... don't want to be alone.” Her sight went down. Michelle's response did not take long. “Of course. Would you like me to read a bedtime story to you?” Anna nodded. “Then go brush your teeth and bring the book you want here.” Michelle smiled again. Anna went out of the bedroom. Just a few minutes later the little girl entered it again holding a small children's book with a blue cover in one hand and her beloved plushie – a small great white shark – in her other. She climbed onto the bed, handing Michelle the book, and nestled under the soft thick blanket. Michelle opened the book on the first story before wrapping one arm around her daughter. Then she began to read in a low soothing tone. Anna listened, following the words and pictures with her eyes with great interest. When she finished reading and Anna already lay in the bed tightly hugging her plushie, Michelle put the book away and turned her bedside lamp off. Lying down herself she stroked her daughter's cheek. “Good night, little princess.” “Good night, mummy.”                                   

[elizabetak]

He's so beautiful i love him sm 💖

I see you slither away with your skin and your tail

Your flickering tongue and your rattling scales

Like a r e a l reptile

[brokehorrorfan]

Event Report: Rock and Shock 2018

The Rock and Shock horror convention and concert series invaded the DCU Center and The Palladium in Worcester, MA last weekend, October 12-14. This year marked the 15th annual event, boasting a decade and a half of the biggest names in horror movies and alternative music descending upon New England every Halloween season.

I had the honor of hosting two panels on Friday night. The first featured New England Horror Writers members Jack Haringa, Rob Smales, Trisha Wooldridge, and Steve Van Samson. Their discussions of their writing careers, their approach, and their experiences with small press provided invaluable insight to the aspiring writers in the audience. For my second panel I was joined by Dawn of the Dead with stars Scott Reiniger and Gaylen Ross to celebrate the film's 40th anniversary. The old friends reflected on the landmark zombie movie and working with the late, great George A. Romero.

Saturday kicked off with a panel with the charismatic Ted Raimi (Evil Dead II). He opened with what was essentially a 10-minute standup routine about the Worcester/Boston area before answering questions. Fittingly, he even received a special microphone so he could stand up to address the crowd rather than sit behind the table. The actor spoke highly of Deadwax, the Shudder original series on which he recently worked, stating that he didn't want it to end. He also revealed that Lunatics: A Love Story, the 1991 comedy/romance film in which he stars, is finally coming to DVD for the first time soon.

Raimi's panel was followed by an equally entertaining but entirely different session with author Joe Knetter. It was billed as a reading from I, Survivor, the new Victor Crowley tie-in novel that he co-wrote with filmmaker Adam Green, but he only read a brief passage. The rest of the time was filled by Knetter - who admitted he was “floating on an edible” - musing from collaborating with Green to playing the killer in the upcoming Hanukkah alongside horror icons Sid Haig, Caroline Williams, and P.J. Soles. His raunchy and self-deprecating humor extended to his longtime girlfriend, indie scream queen Sarah French, who watched from the audience. It was a unique and hilarious experience.

Later in the day, Malcolm McDowell took the stage to answer fan questions. He discussed his seminal roles in Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange and Rob Zombie's Halloween films. (After admitting that he his still never seen John Carpenter's original Halloween, a fan gifted him with a VHS copy the next day.) The gregarious Brit spoke about some of his less publicized performances as well, including the recent fun he had doing Lunchables commercials. "Thank God they paid me a shit load of money," he mused.

On Sunday, Bill Moseley (The Devil’s Rejects), Andrew Divoff (Wishmaster),and R.A. Mihailoff (Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III) took over the panel room to discuss their legacies as icons of horror in a Q&A, which you can watch in its entirety here. Moseley was unfortunately unable to disclose any details on Rob Zombie’s Three From Hell, but it was a fun chat nonetheless. Divoff shared a particularly enlightening story about being an action figure.

For various reasons, several beloved Rock and Shock traditions were absent this year: the costume contest, the film festival, and the supergroup cover band The Rocking Dead. I hope to see them all reinstated in the future, but Sunday saw the launch of a new favorite tradition: a children's costume contest, hosted by Fiona's Fright Shoppe. A gaggle of adorable children dressed as killers from movies they've (hopefully) never seen proudly showed off their cosplay. Chucky took home first prize, with Dani from Hocus Pocus and IT's Pennywise placing second and third, respectively. It was truly heartwarming.

Next door at The Palladium, concerts took place throughout the weekend, beginning with a sold-out kick-off show from Ice Nine Kills on Thursday. Horrorcore hip-hop duo Twiztid headlined on Friday. Saturday offered a night of Swedish/Finnish metal featuring Amorphis, Dark Tranquility, and Wintersun. Two different shows took place on Sunday: downstairs was headlined by heavy metal titans Trivium, while hardcore stalwarts Terror brought the mosh upstairs.

In addition to the aforementioned names, other celebrity guests who met with fans throughout the weekend included Linda Blair (The Exorcist), making her Rock and Shock debut, along with Derek Mears (Friday the 13th), James Marshall (Twin Peaks), Dana Ashbrook (Twin Peaks), Jeremy Davies (Justified), William Forsythe (The Devil's Rejects), and Kelli Maroney (Chopping Mall), among others.

Per usual, the vendor room was loaded with horror DVDs, Blu-rays, toys, shirts, collectibles, artwork, handmade goods, tattoo artists, and more, but it was laid out differently this year. The floor space itself was smaller, but the configuration of the booths made it feel just as full. In addition the regulars, I was happy to find quite a few new faces and products among the vendors. I hope to see the Rock and Shock family to continue to grow in future years.

Click here to see all of my Rock and Shock 2018 photos.

[erraticrandomficwriter]

My beloved Blair for the character thingy 😊😊😊

do I like them: Blair is my favorite OC, so I’m pretty sure I like them lol

5 good qualities: Loyal, Trustworthy, Strong, Dependable, Did I mention strong?

3 bad qualities: Short-temper, Erratic, Holds long-term grudges

favourite episode/etc: Depends on the fic

otp: Depends on the fic lol

brotp: Blair and Jeremy

ot3: Blair, Tyler, and Caroline

notp: Depends on the fic

best quote: It’s not her best but it’s one of my favorites from Blair Visits The Walking Dead because it makes me laugh - “I’m used to hunting Vampires! Sue me!”

head canon: I’m not sure how to answer this since everything about her is head-canon but...She has a tattoo of a wolf in a not-so-visible spot. I don’t write about it often, but it’s there

Thanks for asking!

[pardontheglueman]

Yanis Varoufakis: Adults in the Room

Jeremy Corbyn’s radical transformation of a neo-liberal Labour Party, which had hit rock bottom when endorsing the Cameron government’s 2015 Welfare Reform Bill into a progressive, re-energised anti-austerity movement, has allowed Labour to speak about the mass slaughter of council tenants in the Grenfell Tower fire, a tragedy brought about by a savage Conservative cost-cutting agenda, with something approaching moral clarity. David Lammy, the Labour MP for Tottenham who lost a close friend in the fire, spoke for many when he declared ‘If burning in your own home isn’t political, I don’t know what is. It’s a scandal and a crime. Behind all of this, is money and profit. When you go down to West London and look at that building, it’s like looking at a vision of hell. It’s a vision of a burnt out shell and that burnt out shell is where we have got to in terms of austerity in this country’.

It will come as no surprise to the Tory architects of austerity that poor people end up dying as a direct result of their flagship policy. A report into the Department of Work and Pensions’ policy of sanctioning claimants in Salford carried out by The Salford Partnership concluded that ‘strict benefit conditionality, the threat and use of benefit sanctions, causes damage to the wellbeing of vulnerable claimants and can lead to hunger, debt, destitution, self-harm, and suicide’. The DWP response, aided by a compliant media, was to suppress 49 secret reports into claimant deaths for as long as possible (it took more than two years to obtain the reports under the Freedom of Information Act). Furthermore, the DWP’s notorious, target-driven fitness for work tests, administered by private contractors ATOS have regularly declared terminally ill people fit and able to work. A report, in July 2012, entitled Incapacity Benefits: Deaths of Recipients revealed that between 2010 and 2011 a shocking 10,600 people had died while undergoing the DWP assessment process.

The mass panic sweeping over a Tory party which, until now, has been decidedly relaxed about just how many poor people their economic and social policies are killing, is simply because the massacre of men, women, and children at Grenfell Tower has happened right in front of the T.V cameras. This time there are witnesses and plenty of them! We’ve all seen the horror with our own eyes. The Tories won’t be able to commission a report into Grenfell and then steadfastly refuse to release it; no longer will Boris Johnson be able to tell a Labour opponent who dared to question his plans for fire service cuts in London to “get stuffed”; no longer will the Daily Mail be able to wheel out dismal lackeys like Toby Young to pour scorn all over anyone demanding an end to grotesque levels of inequality in Britain. His puerile, poisonous piece attacking Ken Loach's I, Daniel Blake was a new low for our rabid tabloid press.

The great Tory austerity swindle is over; Grenfell Tower is a tipping point, the neo-liberal free-for-all that began under Margaret Thatcher and continued unabated through the Tony Blair / Gordon Brown years, incredibly gaining momentum after the de-regulated banks crashed the world economy in an orgy of greed and criminality is surely over now. Nearly forty years on from the rise to power of Thatcher, a reborn labour movement stands on the verge of power, armed with a moral and political mandate to rebuild the welfare state, redistribute wealth in favour of working people and to smash the phony policy of austerity once and for all!  

Set against this turbulent background, Yanis Varoufakis’ Adults in the Room, (a fascinating fly-on-the-wall account of how the Syriza Government of 2015 led the left’s fight against a European Union intent on enforcing a psychotic programme of perpetual austerity), proves to be a timely and instructive read. Varoufakis was teaching economics at the Lyndon B. Johnson School of Public Affairs at the University of Texas when Prime Minister in waiting Alexis Tsipras offered him the high profile post of Finance Minister in the event that the radical coalition of Syriza triumphed in the forthcoming election (Varoufakis had been acting as the party’s unofficial advisor since 2013 and his outspoken opposition to destructive European Union bailouts was beginning to win support for a defiant, unorthodox alternative to austerity).

As whistleblowers go, Varoufakis is surprisingly measured and composed, telling his tale with refreshing good grace, and with a rare capacity to identify and acknowledge his own mistakes. Nevertheless, any 550-page account by a serious economist intent on detailing the considerably thorny subject of his country’s malicious bankruptcy can’t help but get itself enmeshed in a thicket of statistics every once in a while. Some of these bear repeating: unemployment soared from 7% to 27%; national income fell by 28%; healthcare expenditure was cut by 11.1% between 2009 and 2011, while 36% of the population currently lives at risk of poverty and social exclusion.  

Varoufakis, however, guides us ably through the minefield of facts and figures with the same relaxed charm and sense of humour that he displays while reviewing the papers on the Marr Show or on his annual pilgrimage to the Hay Festival (standing ovation guaranteed), and this makes for an engaging and easy read despite the intricacy of the subject matter. The following, somewhat lengthy extract, proves the point -

‘The German finance minister Wolfgang Schauble once told me that my opposition to austerity placed me in a minority of Europeans, citing opinion polls showing support for government expenditure cuts. I replied that, even if that were true, a majority can be wrong about the cause of their malaise. During the Black Death of the fourteenth century, I reminded him, most Europeans believed the plague was caused by sinful living and could be exorcised by bloodletting and self-flagellation. And when bloodletting and self-flagellation did not work, this was taken as evidence that people’s repentance was not sincere enough, that not enough blood had been let, that the flagellation was insufficiently enthusiastic - exactly as now when austerity’s abysmal failure is cited as proof that it has been applied too half-heartedly. If he was amused, Wolfgang did not show it’.

At the heart of his intriguing book, is Varoufakis’ head-on confrontation with the troika: the European Commission; the European Central Bank and the International Monetary Fund, all of whom emerge as essentially duplicitous and anti-democratic institutions in their dealings with the Greek government. Time and again the troikas’ apparatchiks doctored agreed communications or withdrew concessions they had made 24 hours earlier while French ministers routinely engaged in doublespeak, supporting Greece in private only to cow-tow to Germany at Eurogroup meetings. Varoufakis often conceded ground, offering his opponents ingenious and imaginative solutions to a crisis that threatened to tear Europe apart. The troika was never interested, not for a moment. Austerity was the only (crooked) game in town!  Few people emerge from the book with any credit - in Washington, Bernie Sanders tried in vain to pressurise the IMF and, surprisingly perhaps, Emmanuel Macron, then the French economy minister attempted to convince President Hollande to back a more ‘sustainable solution’ to the crisis. Macron even visited Varoufakis after he’d been deposed in order to clarify his support for the beleaguered ex-minister.  

Of more interest, perhaps, to British readers post-Brexit and in light of our forthcoming detachment from Europe’s power brokers, is the other relationship at the heart of the book. From the moment that Varoufakis accepted the toxic post of finance minister, he doubted that Tsipras and his ragbag ‘war cabinet’, suspiciously stuffed with bankers chums, would have the resolve to take on the troika in a fight to the death. Time and again he counseled his wavering colleagues that they could not bluff their way out of economic collapse; they had to commit to a negotiating strategy that sought to convince Angela Merkel and co that Syriza would opt for Grexit rather than accept roll-over bailouts that only served to escalate debt and poverty to stratospheric levels. Only then, argued Varoufakis, would the troika, recoiling from a policy that might lead to the disintegration of their beloved European project, abandon its fateful obsession with austerity and finally agree to meaningful talks on restructuring the massive Greek debt.that austerity had brought crashing down on the poorest members of society.

Yanis and Alexis: Bromance followed by betrayal

The betrayal, when it came, was swift, stunning and incredibly bizarre. Having called for and won a referendum to reaffirm their anti-austerity mandate (an inspirational 61.3% voted in favour of continuing to resist a merciless troika), it gradually dawned on Varoufakis that he was almost the only minister at Maximos Mansions, the Greek prime minister’s official residence, in a celebratory mood. Tsipras and his cabinet, openly despondent at having won the vote, were behaving as if they had been heavily defeated. Even as the results were being announced, Tsipras was firing Varoufakis as finance minister (offering him a token post at the department of culture as a consolation), thereby signaling an irreversible surrender to the troika and an acceptance of punishing austerity*. Returning home, Varoufakis could only tell his partner Danae ‘Tonight we had the curious phenomenon of a government overthrowing its people’.

It’s to Varoufakis’ credit, then, that the book closes with a moving and objective analysis of a leader who betrayed the cause that they had both fought for,

‘Friends and critics criticise me for having seen things in Alexis that were not there. I think they are wrong. His desire to liberate Greece from its vicious cycle was there. His intelligence and capacity to learn quickly were self-evident. His enthusiasm for the deterrent I had proposed and the debt relief I was prioritizing was real. The reason that I had seen all these things in him was that they were there. When he instructed me, on our first day in office, to hand over the keys to our offices to the opposition rather than capitulate, he was not lying. The part of him telling me that was speaking the truth. This is why I was brought to tears by his words. This is why I believed him’.

* On the 15th of June 2017, the latest Greek bailout was agreed to the tune of 8.5 billion Euros. Once again, there was no agreement to cancel Greek debt.

Below is an extract from Yanis Varoufakis’ analysis of the deal

In short, poor pensioners will annually forfeit one of their twelve-monthly pension payments, as a result of a reduction in the threshold above which income tax is withheld. For a country where one in two families have no one working in it, and thus have to survive on some small pension that a grandparent collects, this is a socially devastating cut. Moreover, it will also lead to further small business failures (due to the large multiplier effect of reducing a small pension: when poor families reduce their spending in local shops already on the brink, many of these will go under), the result being more people on the scrapheap of unemployment and fewer contributors to the stressed pension funds.

His article can be read in full here

https://www.yanisvaroufakis.eu/2017/06/16/the-annotated-15th-june-2017-eurogroup-statement-on-greece/

Further reading on the statistics quoted above

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2016/may/13/suicides-of-benefit-claimants-reveal-dwp-flaws-says-inquiry

http://www.partnersinsalford.org/documents/DWP_Benefit_Conditionality_and_Sanctions_in_Salford_-

https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/223050/incap_decd_recips_0712.pdf

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[elizabetak]

Lol me

people who are attracted to jeremy blaire are god's strongest soldiers