#robert meet the feebles

[helyiios]

i got like embarrassingly into meet the feebles

[puppetdaily]

Robert from Meet the Feebles

[jillyb2004]

MerMay

Day 26: Rescue

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train... (7)

Damsel in Distress

Robert Fischer x reader

description - The group goes under and the stakes they find there are more troubling than any of them could have dreamt.

word count - 3.3k (ooooooo she's a biggie)

warnings - guns, car crash, injuries, swearing, Robert being a cutie

a/n - I'm sorry this chapter took a bit longer to come out but I was really stuck with writing it. I could've whipped out a chapter really quickly but I knew it wouldn't have been my best and you loyal readers deserve my best, and I want to give this fic my best! :)

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My ticket is clasped firmly in my hand as we wait to board. I had panicked thinking of what to wear this morning. Believe it or not, my experience of first class was lacking. I didn’t want to look out of place so decided upon a sleek stone dress with a matching cardigan and black patent heels.

We were boarding the plane now, deliberately before Fischer. We aimed to get settled in our seats so there was nothing suspicious about the way we were interacting. I found my seat and calmed my shaking bones. God it was so comfortable, shame I wouldn’t get to relish in it. Well technically my body would whilst my mind ran about. I looked behind me seeing Yusuf, Ariadne, Arthur, and Saito. I looked across and found Eames, my dad, and an empty seat. The person who would claim it would be my direct opposite. My hands clenched the arm rest when realisation set in. My heart was racing to the point where I didn’t notice Robert’s entrance. Eames blocked his path in order to get subtle access to his passport which he then slipped to Cobb.

I perked up when I felt my dad gesturing my way. Not knowing what else to do, I rose and approached him. But I had failed to notice the obvious point of contact until I had once again slammed into someone and ended up on my knees. This time my brick wall happened to hold the steely blue eyes I found impossible to forget. Once again, I struggled to find my voice in the face of his gaze.

“Are you okay?” I sharply inhaled, my thoughts being dragged back to our previous meeting. This time the pressure informed my actions and I lowered my head so my locks curtained my distinct features. He offered me his hands to lift me from the surprisingly soft carpet. Even though I couldn’t let my eyes meet his, it didn’t mean I couldn’t let my thumb ever so gently stroke his firm hands. They had the softness of a privileged life but there was a hardness that came from never-ending worry.

“I’m sorry do I know you?” He laughed through his words whilst searching through my feeble disguise. I let my eyes drift to Eames in a plea for help. What was I to do?

“No, I’m sorry I just have one of those faces.” Robert was amused by my answer. The closer he leaned in the more it felt like the world just crumbled around us. I could feel the muscles in my neck praying for me to look up. Just for a moment. I could feel his hands engulfing my own in a protective hold.

Just then, Robert was shoved from behind, allowing me to recollect and escape the potentially risky moment. Cobb continued storing his bag when Robert span around, looking for the one responsible. Cobb made sure his stance alluded to his innocence.

Once, Robert turned back, expecting to find me, he was saddened to see me returned to my seat. He purposefully moved to continue our conversation but was halted by the stewardess who informed him it was time to take his seat.

Robert returned to his seat glumly. As he sat, his sadness could still be felt radiating despite his perfect posture. He unfurled his jacket from his body revealing a crisp white shirt, his trousers being held by suspenders. My eyes betrayed me to drag over his body. I quickly looked away when I risked meeting his eyes and I giggled at the juvenile gesture on my part. But it appeared he had noticed as he met my giggles with his own melodious chuckle. I looked behind Robert to see my father handling his passport. The fasten seat belt sign alighted and the pilots voice informed us of take off. The plane rumbled beneath our feet. A little gasp escaped me as I briefly felt the gravity leave our mass, lifting us into the air. My fingers curled tighter around my seat, an outward sign of my anxiety.

A ping alerted us of the futility of our restraints. My dad rose from his seat and informed Robert that he had dropped his passport. Handing him back the aforementioned item, Cobb then struck up a conversation, I could only assume about his father and his recent passing. I watched out of my peripheral, refusing to give away any indication of the relationship between the seven people joining Robert’s flight. It ended with my father joining Robert in a drink which I assume contained a secret ingredient.

Within seconds, he was out. This was our go sign. Everyone jumped up, attending to their stations as the first-class flight attendant retrieved our case. Before joining the others, I ran over to Robert’s limp form and kneeled down between his legs. My hand glided over his arm and returned to his pulse point. With the other I cupped his face and with soft strokes I allowed my thumb to peel his eye open.

“What are you doing?” Cobb had spotted my unusual position.

“Just making sure he’s okay.” I answered with an innocent tone. I rose, self-conscious of my position, and joined the others in retrieving my own IV.

I returned to my seat and inserted it into my vein. I looked around at their stone cold faces and righted my expression to fit with the crowd. Here we fucking go.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

LAYER ONE: THE CITY

My eyes shot open and the first thing I felt was cold. Lashes of rain pelting down on my shivering form. Interestingly I hadn’t planned an outfit for such weather as such weather was supposed to be impossible. I shivered in my thin blouse and jeans, hugging my black leather jacket tighter in a feeble attempt at retaining heat.

I took in the dream around me, familiarising myself with the skyscrapers so my brain registered the route of the maze. Cars and their horns blared around me, my frame jumping at each new sound. I traipsed further up the street hoping to find my dad or Eames.

Suddenly, a red car pulled up next to me. The door was ripped open, and a loud voice ordered me to get in. We drove further in silence and picked up Yusuf. Unfortunately, with seven of us, room was limited. And I found myself being lifted into Arthur’s lap. I felt him shift under me at the foreign position, but he kept his hands civil, whether out of respect for me or fear of my father, I couldn’t say. But after many days of icing out on his part I couldn’t deny that the contact was comforting.

“You couldn’t have peed before we went under?” Arthur fumed from behind me.

“Sorry.” Yusuf meekly uttered.

“Bit too much free champagne before takeoff, eh, Yusuf?” Eames teased from the front.

“Oh, ha bloody ha.” I smirked over to Yusuf, trying to distract myself with amusement.

“Well we know he’s gonna be looking for a taxi in this weather.” My dad dragged us back to the plan at hand. We pulled off from the curb. As we drove we latched on to a taxi and Cobb rammed us into the back of it. When the driver stormed out of his vehicle, he was met with a gun pointed at his face.

“Walk away.” Cobb threatened. The driver left in a hurry. Saito exited our car but before Arthur left he turned back to where he’d lifted me off his lap. He gave me a light hug before finally leaving. Once the door closed again, I felt something different weighing down my body. I looked to an unusual bump under my jacket and pulled it back to reveal a holster with a loaded pistol. My weapon of choice. I smiled a little looking to Arthur’s retreating form. He’d never leave me vulnerable.

We followed Arthur and Saito a few yards before I saw Robert, out in the rain, flagging them down. Once they stopped and he was about to get in, Eames left our car in favour of disrupting Robert by appearing to steal his taxi. I stayed back, holding my breath. I feared to speak, fearing the quivering tone of my thoughts.

We pulled over once more to pick up a sopping wet Ariadne. She seemed grateful for the shelter.

I glanced down at the crisp white watch I always brought on any heist. It’s always good to track time when time is working against you. If the schedule was right Saito will have initiated the kidnapping part of the scheme. Ariadne turned to speak but before any words could come out, I felt the breath be ripped from my body and out my stomach. The car hurtled to the side and threw its occupants into a whirl.

I looked up, brushing my wet locks away from my eyeline. The sight I saw made my stomach lurch. A freight train. Hurtling straight through any hopes I had of getting home.

As I seemed to regain function, my courage was dashed as bullets pierced the metal. Specially trained projections targeted our two cars. I fumed at the sight of these men, knowing that this kind of dream training never appeared in our research. I watched Arthur manoeuvre the taxi, feeling lucky it was in his hands. But as more shots rained down, I grew determined. I took a crowbar from the boot and smashed out the rear window.

“KEEP US BEHIND THE TAXI!” I yelled over the newly acquired street noise to my Dad who took my meaning and tailed us to the boys, blocking the projections shot. I fetched my pistol out of the holster. I lay across the back seat rests and straightened out my arms in front of me. Pistol was positioned in a perfect line. I closed one eye. My thumb gripped the trigger down and I felt the bullet unfurl from the chamber.

Direct hit.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We arrived at the abandoned warehouse that would be our stage. The two cars skidded in and as I exited, pistol still in hand, I noticed commotion between the others.

“Get Fischer in the back room now!” I saw them haul Fischer’s body out of the car and drag him away from my sight. I couldn’t help following him with my eyes and I tried to stifle the sigh that escaped once I saw him unharmed. I quickly composed myself and focused on the situation at hand. Saito was hurt.

“Has he been shot? Is he – he dying?” Ariadne stuttered out as Arthur carefully hurled his form out. I could see the blood seeping through his shirt. I noticed how his eyes lapsed back into his skull as if retreating from the pain.

“I don’t know.”

“Jesus christ.” My dad leaned down to him in order to assess the situation.

“Where were you? What happened to you?” Arthur questioned our whereabouts.

“We got hit by a freight strain.” I managed to stutter out through intermittent breaths.

“Why would you put a train crossing in the middle of a downtown intersection?” Arthur spat at Ariadne.

“I didn’t!” she defended.

“Well, where did it come from then?” Arthur would not let this go. I was confused and scared but if we focused on a singular fault, we’d lose sight of the end goal. And that was all that mattered now. Inception was about improvisation and now I had to improvise a runaway train being a totally normal thing to happen.

“Well, let me ask you a question, why the hell were we ambushed?” My dad screamed down at Arthur. “Those were not normal projections! They’d been trained for god’s sake!”

“You’re right.”

“How could he be trained?” Ariadne questioned.

Arthur calmed his breathing. “Fischer’s had an extractor teach his subconscious to defend itself.” I had to give it to Arthur he had an ability to stay calm in the face of unbridled attacks in the field. Which usually came from my dad. “so his subconscious is militarised. It should have shown in the research, I’m sorry.” He chanced a glance to my shaking frame. He surveyed the range of cuts on my arms and face from broken glass. “I’m sorry.” He softly uttered in my direction, but failing to meet my eyes.

“SO WHY THE HELL DIDN’T IT!” My Dad practically screamed at us now.

“Calm down.” Arthur tried to subdue his fury, lest it seep onto the entire team.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! THAT WAS YOUR JOB GODDAMMIT!” Arthur rose to meet Cobbs intimidating stance. “That was your responsibility!” He shoved his finger into Arthur’s face.  “You were meant to check Fischer’s background thoroughly! We are not prepared for this type of violence!”

“We have dealt with sub-security before.” I gently reminded the men. “We’re just going to have to be a little more careful.”

Dad now directed his anger towards me. “This was not a part of the plan!" He gestured down towards Saito’s writhing frame. "Now he’s dying for god’s sake!”

Eames appeared from the side of us; he brandished a gun in front of Saito’s face. “Put him out of his misery.” He went to press the trigger before he was manhandled out of the way. Dad now had him locked against the car, gripping his offending hand.

“No, no, no don’t do that!” Cobb now furiously stated his opposition as Eames feebly tried to calm him down. Primarily so he’d release him.

“He’s in agony, I’m waking him up.” Eames defended.

“No. It won’t wake him up.” I froze hearing the words escape my dad’s mouth. You die and you wake up. That’s what happens.

“What do you mean he won’t wake up? When we die in a dream, we wake up.” Eames was repeating so he could convince himself.

“Not from this.” Yusuf spoke up. “We’re too heavily sedated to wake up that way.” Our gazes were firmly fixed on Yusuf, in disbelief of what we were hearing. One thought danced around my brain and only Eames had the guts to speak it out.

“Right. So what happens when we die?” He looked on at my dad for the answer he didn’t want.

“We drop into limbo.”

My heart plummeted out of my ribs and lodged down below. I managed to catch my breath but only in shaky little outbursts that were more like spits than any substantial amount of oxygen.

“Are you serious?” Arthur fumed upon the knowledge of this.

“Limbo?” Ariadne questioned fearfully.

“Unconcentrated dream space.”

“Well, what the hell is down there?” She built upon her question.

“Just raw, infinite subconscious.” Arthur’s voice began to build. “Nothing is down there, except for whatever may have been left behind by anyone sharing the dream who’s been trapped there before.” My saddened eyes followed my father, along with Arthur, both knowing that whatever was down there was a product between him…and Mal. “Which in our case, is you.”

“Well, how long could we be stuck there?” Ariadne wanted to claw the words back down in her throat.

“Couldn’t even think about escape before the sedation wears off.” Yusuf spluttered out his answer.

“Well how long Yusuf?” Eames was now irritated and used it to mask his fear.

“Decades – infinite – I don’t know. Ask him. He’s the one who’s been there.” He weakly gestured to my dad who’d begun to pace, avoiding our stares.

No one had looked my way as I hadn’t contributed to the conversation at hand. Dad was directed away from me, running his hands over his face as if he was waking from a deep sleep. He spun back into the group as a loud sob broke from my throat. Tears welled up and spilled out as the reality of the situation sank in. This job had already been dangerous but now I had lost the way out that could always be a crutch to the impending fear of the deep subconscious. Dad rushed to embrace me. He tucked my head into his chest and placed a kiss on my hairline.

“It’s okay, it’s okay sweetheart.” He softly cooed at me. “We’re gonna be okay.” I could no longer feel if the words were directed at me…or him. I feverishly wiped away the salty tears as they dried on my skin. I peeled myself away and looked up with a soft smile. In a silent nod of contentment. But as our eyes met I saw a flicker of regret when he saw me for what I truly was. His child.

The other boys hoisted Saito up and took him away. I knew the deeper we went, the pain would lessen. But my heart still ached for the agony waiting for him and the risk that came along with it.

Once the boys returned, Dad brought us all back to the task at hand. He addressed us explaining the outlines of the kidnapping scenario and how we’d use it to get Fischer to conjure up a safe combination which we would later use to reveal the will.

I had tucked my body into myself, my mind still running on adrenaline. I jumped back in once dad turned towards me, his next statement aimed for me.

“Honey, because of the dire situation and his clear kidnapping training we need to go harder.” I rolled my eyes feeling the direction of the conversation. “Sweetheart, we need to do ‘Damsel in Distress’.” My heart picked up speed.

“What’s that?” Ariadne questioned. It truly brought me back to how she had been dumped into this unknown world with very little knowledge. Like being dropped in a stormy ocean at night with a singular life ring.

“It’s a technique we use where y/n acts as an innocent victim to gain the marks trust.” Arthur filled her in whilst Dad stared at my expression incredulously. “Once she’s struck up a rapport we pretend to torture her. We’ve found this works with certain men, like Robert. Rich pretty boys who jerk off to the idea of being a knight in shining armour.”

I glared at Arthur’s unnecessary add-ons. He at least had the decency to look ashamed at being noticed by myself.

“Thing is I don’t think I can.” I meekly whispered. Closing in on myself further.

“What do you mean?” My dad asked.

“Because he saw me.” I stuttered out.

“That thing on the plane?” My dad’s annoyance was growing. He bent down and held my shoulders. “That wasn’t long enough to having any lasting effect on the memory.” He huffed out.

“There was another time.” My voice barely broke the room’s air and Eames' face fell as he knew what was to follow. My dad halted and I felt anger seep his veins as his hands left my shoulders. “At the office when Eames and I were doing intel. There was a – moment – well he – We talked.”

“You talked? You fucking talked with the subject?” My dad stormed away and whacked his fist into the car. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know – I just –” I stammered out in the face of my fathers fury. He laughed in disbelief at my nervous shakes.

“Such a fucking child.” He rubbed his hands over his face, unwilling to look at me in this moment.

I scoffed. “I’m only a child when it suits you.” I stated confidently, my previous anxiety dissipating in the face of his insult. We both entered into a stare down, neither willing to retreat. Our silence hung heavy.

“What does it matter.” Eames tried to pacify the two of us. “The further down we go, the fuzzier his recollection becomes.”

“It matters now!” Dad hissed. He withdrew, his disappointment evident in his stance.

“I was wearing glasses!” I shouted unconvinced at my own excuse. He spun to face me.

“It doesn’t matter, his brain now has an image of you with glasses and without so his unconscious mind will meld the two to form an exact image of you.” He left once again, desperate to forget the conversation.

“I can still do this!” I yelled with conviction. He turned back round to deliver a final blow.

“No. You can’t.” my heart clamped as his words settled in. My tears falling was the only feeling I could register in my numb frame.

God, what have I done.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07

[eminsunnytoons123]

The parodies cousin Show characters

Part 1, 2 And 3

Disclaimer: I made the parodies cousin Show for the sake of enjoyment And creativity, And again, for the sake of creativity And enjoyment, i'll risk it for all my besties, Sisters, Brothers, pen pals And girlfriend: @splashy900 @kxllboii @cheezekennith @aquamarine-dream-queen @dayzsaclark @oscarandgrinchfan @moshywoosh @ilovescaredysquirrel2 @nuggetaubrey @sharkyy599 @nightkit92 @familyoffood @mysafespaceblog13 @thelazzyblogzz @sugar-miss1 @shrimpathizer @muppet-fan-real @shypeachrunaway @iggyguyy @sophia-does-skits @typical-sophie @peaceforpeople @ben5569 @xxkurosakutisaxxaltofshitaccount @ducktoonz903707 @artismeyou-12 @blackstar044 @acen402 @walt-diego-rodriguez @nia1sworld @rumplestiltsbear @s4gefr0g @beeware-of-lulu @leafith @bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing that always loved me And supported me And always loved my Work.

~

Ever since I have decided to make the FOURTH counterparts of the muppets, here they are =^_^= And theyre like cousins to the muppets, And some of them even changed genders. And I have imagined something called "the cousins Show" And its related to the "Sisters Show" =^_^=

And in their infos, I wont say how old are they, because theyre the same age like the muppets, And you can go see the ages from the teppums And You'll see how old are the muppets with them ^///^; And I wont really Type who are they dating, but i'll soon make who are they dating =^_^= oh! And i'll say their sexualities soon when I draw them all, even the same goes to the moopets, whatnots And teppums =^_^=

Now some info about them (im still thinking about their info, i'll soon make a post about it too):

Lucille the ladybug - Lucille the ladybug is Kermit the frog's parodie cousin counterpart, she is the leading ladybug Lady who plays the harp. And she is ms. Moosa's And Garrett's love interests. Her headcanon voice actor is John Roberts, And her voice claim is Linda belcher from bob's burgers.

Ms. Moosa - Ms. Moosa is miss piggy's parodie cousin counterpart, she is the hot tempered primadonna moose lady, And Lucille's And Garrett's love interest. Her headcanon voice actor is Mark Hadlow, And her voice claim is Heidi the hippo from meet the feebles.

Garrett Rhino - Garrett Rhino is fozzie bear's parodie cousin counterpart, he is the comedian Rhino on the Show that does many Circus tricks And loves making jokes. His headcanon voice actor is Jim Cummings, And his voice claim is tigger from Winnie the Pooh.

Calvin the bat - Calvin the bat is Rizzo the rat's parodie cousin counterpart, he is actually an vampire bat And he is very sarcastic And sassy, And he is Harris' and Emma the bat's love interest. His headcanon voice actor is Paul Tylak, And his voice claim is snake from skunk Fu.

Harris the King ant - Harris the King ant is Pepe the King prawn's parodie cousin counterpart, he is an actual king ant And other ants listen to his orders, he has an thick Brooklyn accent, And dont call him a "termite" he is a "King ant". His headcanon voice actor is Kyle Rideout, And his voice claim is Vinnie from littlest pet shop.

Franklin the best - Franklin the best is gonzo the great's parodie cousin counterpart, he is an acrobat And Daredevil that loves doing dangerous tricks, And he is interested in mermans. His headcanon voice actor is Scott Menville, And his voice claim is Robin from teen titans go.

Professor Charles van rosecrew - professor Charles van rosecrew is dr bunsen honeydew's parodie cousin counterpart, he is the Scientist on the Show And he helps bunsen in his Experiments, And he is Carson's love interest. His headcanon voice actor is Jim Rash, And his voice claim is Gyro from ducktales.

Carson - Carson is beaker's parodie cousin counterpart, he is an nervous wreck just like beaker but he is good friends with him too, And he is professor charles' love interest, And he speaks in "eeh!?" And "beep!" His headcanon voice actor is Tom Kenny, And his voice claim is Spongebob squarepants from Spongebob squarepants.

Houston the bull - Houston the bull is rowlf the dog's parodie cousin counterpart, he is the Wise And laid back accordionist on the Show And he is from Texas. His headcanon voice actor is Tom Kenny, And his voice claim is Roy Rakoon from talking Tom And friends.

Austin the King Buffalo - Austin the King Buffalo is Sam the eagle's parodie cousin counterpart, he is an King Buffalo from africa And he is a real King Buffalo, And just like how other ants listen to Harris' others, other buffalos listen to Austin's orders. His headcanon voice actor is Keith David, And his voice claim is flame King from adventure time.

Isabella - Isabella is Walter's parodie cosuin counterpart, she is a BIG fan of the parodies, especially a fan of Lucille And since she is a part of them, she is best friends with Ruby And she has a crush on her too. Her headcanon voice actress is Jennifer Hale, And her voice claim is Madison from class of 3000.

Ruby - Ruby is Scooter's parodie cousin counterpart, she helps Lucille with The Show, And she is Riley's little sister and Isabella's best friend, And she had a crush on Isabella, And Riley teases her with that. Her headcanon voice actress is Katie Griffin, And her voice claim is Alex from totally spies.

I hope y'all will like these, And again, you're allowed to make fanart out of the parodies, And even moopets, whatnots And teppums, you dont have to ask me for permission =^_^= 💝 but just dont make NSFW or fetish Art out of them..

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away Chapter 9

A Perfect Fit

1.8k words

(CW: Needles, blood, body horror)

Link to Masterpost

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After his meeting with Miranda, Trevor was left alone in the interrogation room. No one came to update him on his case for a while. God, it was dull in that room. What could possibly be taking so long?

To keep himself occupied, he let his eyes wander over the room, trying to absorb the finer details. The way motes of dust danced in the feeble light. The dull reflection of the room in the puddle on the floor. His own slumped form mirrored in the glass at the far end of the room.

He tried to imagine how he’d capture those details in a drawing. That was how he occupied a lot of his downtime, with art. Though it was getting trickier for him to draw when the tools felt relatively brittle in his hands. It felt like the skill he’d worked to develop for so long was slipping away from him.

He’d been considering pursuing an art career when he got older. Probably as a freelance artist, with a full-time job outside of that. But still, he’d wanted it to be part of his life. But the life he’d been picturing for himself just felt further and further away as his condition progressed.

He was left alone with those thoughts for what felt like an hour. Finally, though, after he’d been given plenty of time to wallow in his thoughts, the doorknob jiggled. He looked up as Ray Morgan entered the room with a grim expression on his face.

“It’s been decided,” he announced. “You’ve been sentenced to corrective custody.”

Trevor’s brow furrowed. “Corrective custody?”

Morgan nodded. “The idea is for you to correct your behavior while you’re there. Thus, the length of your sentence is determined by your behavior while you’re in there. Got it?”

That wasn’t confusing at all. Still, he answered, “I guess.”

“Good. You got any other questions before we head over to the correctional facility?”

Trevor sat in dazed silence for a moment before responding, “Not really.”

“Alright then. Time to go,” Morgan gestured for Trevor to follow him. He slowly got to his feet and followed morosely behind as Morgan led him out of the building.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting something like this to happen. But now that he was staring straight down the barrel of it, the gravity of the situation hit him like a tidal wave. It felt like walking through quicksand; each step towards the prison required effort on his part.

Just keep moving forward, he told himself. But what kind of place was he moving towards? He had no idea what the future had in store for him now.

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

The first couple of days in jail were a blur. Several people came by his cell to give him all kinds of spiels on the rules, his rights and responsibilities, all that stuff. They gave him all kinds of paperwork to fill out with only those tiny number two pencils to fill them out with. Then they had the nerve to be irritated when he kept breaking the lead off by accident.

At least he could use his hands again. They still made him wear the same pair of cuffs Mr. Roberts had put on him when he was arrested. But now they were on a different setting than before, the one with the yellow light, so they were no longer magnetized together. He had to wonder though, if they weren’t just for keeping his hands bound, what were they for?

By the second day, he had to visit the medical office for a physical. He was getting tired of these doctor’s visits. Why should he have to spill his guts about all of the problems that came with his growth spurts to every new doctor he met? It wasn’t like there was anything they could really do to help him now.

All of the poking and prodding they did was starting to feel somewhat humiliating. Not as humiliating as the strip search they’d done when he first got here, but still. When they approached him with a large needle to take his blood, his nervousness made him snap.

“What do you need to take my blood for? Didn’t your institute get enough when I visited last month?”

The doctor who held the needle raised a placating hand, though Trevor didn’t miss the fear in his eyes.

“Easy now. We just want to get a read on where your hormones are at,” he told him.

Trevor was keeping his arm held above where the doctor could reach. “My hormones? Why?”

“It’ll help us keep track of your growth. Let us know what to expect. Isn’t that something you want too?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Finally he huffed and offered his arm to the doctor, looking away as he inserted the needle. He still flinched at the feeling of the needle pushing through his thickened skin.

He watched as the doctor drained his blood through the little tube into several glass vials.

“Why do you need so much blood,” he grumbled, mostly to himself.

“Like I said, it’s mostly for our charts, though there is some testing required for all detainees that we need your blood for,” the doctor informed him.

Trevor hadn’t actually expected the doctor to answer him.

“Although,” the doctor continued as he drew the needle out of Trevor’s arm, “from what I hear, one vial is to be set aside for some kind of special project.”

“WHAT?!” Trevor exclaimed, jerking his arm away from the doctor and glaring at him. His mind leapt to all sorts of scenarios where they’d use his blood for all kinds of nefarious purposes.

“It—It’s not—” the doctor’s hands flew up again, trying to keep him calm. “What I mean is—it’s for your uniform, they need it synthesize the empathic material, since yours is a special case.”

Blood dribbled down the inside of his arm. The prison guard who had escorted him there was heading over to see what all the fuss was about. His eyes darted between the guard and the doctor, sensing that there might be trouble if he didn’t comply. Reluctantly, he lowered his arm so it could be bandaged.

“That seems like something you should’ve told me before you stuck a needle in me,” he snarked.

The doctor finished wrapping the bit of gauze around the cotton pad he’d pressed to the injection site. Then he rubbed the back of his neck in seeming embarrassment.

“Technically, I don’t think I was supposed to say anything at all about it,” he said, eyeing the retreating guard.

“Yeah. Whatever,” Trevor mumbled. “Are we done here?”

The doctor looked up with a bit of alarm. “I—I suppose so?”

“Great. Bye,” he said and began to walk towards the door, forcing the doctor to scramble to get out of his way. He paused a few steps from the exit, feeling a little guilty about the way he’d acted. He looked over his shoulder at the bewildered doctor.

“Sorry for freaking out,” he said, then bent over and headed out the door.

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

Trevor learned what the doctor had meant by “a special project” later that day. A guard ushered him from his cell to what seemed like some kind of conference room. Or maybe, based on some of the supplies he saw put away on the shelves, it was a classroom.

There, he was introduced to Carolina Martinez, a seamstress of some kind. Unlike most people he’d met here, she approached him with no hesitation. She worked like a whirlwind as she took all kinds of measurements, apparently for his uniform.

“Why put so much effort into this?” he asked midway through. He was on his knees so she could reach the upper half of his body.

“Into what? My job?” she shot back, examining the fabric ruler she had wrapped around his bicep, then scratching something in her notes.

“No I mean—” he gestured down to himself with his free hand. “I don’t know how much they told you about me, but any clothes you make for me aren’t going to fit in, like, a week.”

She gave him a look. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but I happen to be the Lively Institute’s leading expert on empathic materials. It’ll fit.”

“Empathic materials?”

“Right, I forget it’s something most people don’t know about. It’s a kind of fabric synthesized with a super’s DNA, allowing it to match their abilities. They took your blood earlier, no?”

“Yeah?” he replied, trying to keep up with how quickly she spoke.

“So right now, they’ll be using that in my workshop to isolate your specific instance of the SMM gene. We should be able to use that to create a uniform that grows with you.”

“Really?”

“That’s the plan. Now puff out your chest for me, yeah?” she said, immediately jumping right back into her work.

Trevor wasn’t fully convinced, but he got his uniform anyway a few days later. It fit him perfectly, at least initially. After being stuck in the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants he’d outgrown several days ago, it was a welcome change.

It was a prison jumpsuit much like ones he’d seen in movies and tv. It was made from a strange metallic fabric, though it was more flexible than it looked. A reddish-orange stripe ran up either side.

His uniform’s ability to adapt to him was tested soon enough. That night, as he tried to fall asleep on the hard concrete floor, he almost missed the comparative comfort of the linoleum he’d slept on at the main office. He waited for sleep to come, but it never did.

His discomfort gradually shifted to an ache in his back. The feeling spread and intensified, until he could feel the fibers of his muscles beginning to stretch and snap. A low groan of pain escaped his lips as he realized what was beginning to happen.

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that might relieve some of the pain. He kept trying, but nothing worked. He felt frustration and panic bubbling up within him.

“Keep it down,” a voice hissed from one of the neighboring cells.

He couldn’t respond. He had to catch his breath. Their words only served to aggravate him more.

He had to find something, anything to keep him grounded. His hand shot out and felt around, searching for something to cling to.

His knuckles brushed against the cold bars that enclosed him. He snatched one of the bars in his fist, gripping it tightly. He clung to it until it began to hurt, then kept clinging. Then covered his mouth with his other hand to suppress the sounds of his pain.

He waited like that until it passed, what felt like hours later. Eventually, he settled back down into a listless sleep. And in the morning, when dragged himself back to his feet, he could tell his perspective had shifted slightly. But looking down at the clothes he wore, there was no way to tell the difference. They fit him just as well as they had the day before.

Maybe even a little better.

First/Last/Next

[loverrofmineee]

The Parting Glass - Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x OC

AO3 | Summary | Chapter 1

Chapter 2- Pilots and Prayers

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first mission for the new crew’s came after a couple of days, giving them time to settle in, but not enough to keep the nerves away. Sorcha could feel the anticipation radiating off of each new face she passed, as the men were eager, or terrified, to go up in the air. She gave each man a small smile in a feeble attempt to ease their anxieties, but there was only so much a pretty face could do.

Bremen was the target of the men’s first mission, which made Sorcha extremely anxious. She was privy to what the plans for the mission were, as the men in the tower talked freely, nearly forgetting the women were there. Each person working in the tower offices agreed to keep quiet about anything they overheard, as it was to be confidential until the crews were told. However, that didn’t stop Sorcha and her bunkmates from discussing their fears quietly into the night. Eventually, the mission day came, and what the new men had been waiting for became real.

Once all the meetings had been finished, Sorcha stood outside the tower alongside Aileen, Lilibet, Anika, and Siobhan. They had been dubbed ‘The Tower Girls’ since they all worked within the tower offices, and were the closest group out of all their bunkmates. As they did with every mission, the girls stood beside the tower, gazing at the crews getting ready to take off. No one ever got on them for leaving the office, since paperwork could be filed at any time, and everyone at the base often left their desks to see the men off.

Siobhan was the first to break the group's contemplative silence, “Do you think they’ll make it?”

“They have to, Shiv. They just have to,” Aileen stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She was the optimist of the group, always believing in the best-case scenario no matter what. Sorcha admired her for it, given that optimism ran low during these times.

“All we can do is hope and pray,” Sorcha comforted Aileen as she squeezed her hand, “They’re some of the best pilots up there, all they can do is stick to their training.”

The girls went silent again as the first fort took off, watching the line of planes exit the tarmac and head into the sky. Even though Sorcha had seen many crews come and go, the pit of anxiety in her chest never left as she saw them take off. She didn’t know every man personally but felt a sense of care for them. Maybe it was because she couldn’t be there for Cormack, not knowing if he had someone to care for him at Kings Cliffe, so she took it upon herself to pray for every crew at Thorpe Abbotts, not wanting them to feel alone.

—-----------------------------------------—

Once all of the forts had gone, the rest of Sorcha’s friends had gone inside, but she had opted to stay out for a few minutes. This mission felt different than the others she had witnessed, now having friendships with the men going up. She and Buck had become fast friends over the weeks, chatting at the officer’s club when Bucky had become too much for them, (though they loved him all the same). Benny had a growing interest in Anika, and turned to Sorcha for advice on how to handle it, taking long walks with Meatball as she gave him tips. She felt that so much was at stake for this mission, needing a few moments to herself to control her spiraling thoughts.

A great distraction came her way in the form of John Egan, who scared her half to death by sneaking up on her. “Jesus, John,” Sorcha spit out as she slapped her hand over her heart, “Never pop up like that again.”

“Using my actual name? Sounds like you’re mad at me Devs,” Bucky said with a half-teasing grin, “I was just wondering if you’d like to take a ride with me?”

Sorcha opened her mouth to give the man a retort about having to work but then debated the question as she saw how nervous Bucky seemed. There was no teasing cadence in his words, only an earnest tone. “Sure, Bucky,” She said softly, “Let’s go.”

Bucky only smiled in return for her answer, walking over to his Jeep and waiting for the Devlin girl to get in. The two were silent for the majority of the ride, both lost in their thoughts. Sorcha knew Egan was worrying about Buck the most, and wondered how to approach the subject. Though Bucky broke the silence first, “You ever wonder why Buck’s called Buck?”

“Honestly,” Sorcha started as Bucky spared her a glance, “All the time.”

“You’ve never asked though,” Egan stated as he threw a curious look her way.

“I just thought it’d come up one day. I know well enough not to poke around trying to find out the secrets of you two.”

A bark of laughter came from Bucky at her statement, causing the car to swerve for a moment. “You’re a smart girl Devs. But Buck’s seriously never told you? Don’t think I don’t notice the two of you chatting it up at the officer’s club when you want to get away from me.” “Who knew you were so attentive?”

“Only when it comes to the two of you,” Bucky stated, his true emotions shining through, “but only because I fear you’re both plotting something against me. Or Buck is tarnishing my good name.”

Sorcha chuckled at his retort, understanding that Bucky was quick to hide any semblance of real emotion that came out of him. “I believe your good name was tarnished long before Buck arrived. Seeing as you’ve flirted with nearly every woman on the base.”

“Are you gonna make me apologize for appreciating the beautiful women that reside here?”

“God, you’re so-”

“Handsome, charismatic, the best air exec you’ve ever seen?”

Sorcha’s head fell back as she laughed at Bucky’s words, causing the man to pull a face of offense. “I think you’re talking to the wrong woman about this. Have Aileen take my place and you’ll hear all the right answers.”

A small blush spread across Bucky’s face at the mention of Aileen, not going unnoticed by Sorcha. “As friends of both of you, I’m only encouraging that you try to at least have a simple conversation with her.” Sorcha spoke as they headed back to the tower, “There’s no harm in that, is there?”

“No ma’am,” Bucky said as he accepted his fate, knowing he couldn’t argue against Sorcha.

“Well then,” Sorcha started as the car came to a stop, “I will see you soon Major. Hopefully, after you’ve gained some courage.” Bucky protested at her insinuation, but Sorcha didn’t stay to hear his argument, giggling as she walked back to the office.

—-----------------------------------------—

The Bremen mission was many of the men’s first brush with death. Out of the 19 forts that left, only 15 returned. Statistically, it was not that bad of a mission, but the men had gotten their first taste of loss during the war.

Sorcha was in the middle of filing navigation reports from previous missions when she heard the sirens. All the women in the office looked at each other with fear in their eyes, believing the worst for a moment. The air execs and senior personnel all rushed outside, preparing for what would come next as the wheels of each plane hit the ground.

“Should we-” Anika started to speak but was silenced as Lilibet shook her head.

“We need to be here,” Lilibet’s tone was strong, as she had been in the war much longer than the other girls since she was from Cambridge. “I know what we’re all thinking, but we know what our duty is, to stay at our desks and do whatever is required. We’ll hear which forts came back soon enough.”

Sorcha nodded her head at her friend’s words, though she wished she could see if her boys were still alive. All she could do was hope and pray.

[byneddiedingo]

Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert in It Happened One Night (Frank Capra, 1934)

Cast: Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert, Walter Connolly, Roscoe Karns, Jameson Thomas, Alan Hale, Arthur Hoyt, Blanche Friderici, Charles C. Wilson. Screenplay: Robert Riskin, based on a story by Samuel Hopkins Adams. Cinematography: Joseph Walker. Art direction: Stephen Goosson. Film editing: Gene Havlick. Music: Howard Jackson.

It Happened one Night was made before Frank Capra let his sentimental populism go to his head, so it has just the right amount of social consciousness, especially the sympathy for the victims of the Great Depression. We see it in the camaraderie of the bus riders singing "The Man on the Flying Trapeze," the willingness of Peter (Clark Gable) to give his last dollar to help a mother and son who have spent all their money on bus fare and have none left for food, and in the sense of entitlement shown by rich girl Ellie (Claudette Colbert), who learns a lesson when she tries to jump the queue for the showers at the trailer court. Later, Capra would want to preach at us about the power of The People in Meet John Doe (1941) and the way One Man Can Change the World in It's a Wonderful Life (1946), films I can find it hard to watch today. But here he's just content to give us a good-natured romantic comedy with a social subtext. It has all the earmarks of the genre: a meet-cute, a hate-at-first-sight, a falling-in-love, a crisis, and a happy ending -- the paradigmatic runaway bride. It's not especially a laugh-riot, which may be why Gable and Colbert, who didn't want to make the movie to start with, thought when they'd finished it that it would be a bomb. Its charms are quieter but in their way entirely satisfying, in part because whatever their doubts about the movie they were making, the two stars were consummate pros and Capra allowed their natural charm and charisma to shine. All three of them won Oscars, of course, as did the movie and Robert Riskin for his screenplay. Joseph Walker's cinematography deserves a mention, as does a cast that includes Walter Connolly, Roscoe Karns, Alan Hale, and, as the dimwit bus driver whose only response to Peter's insults is a feeble "Oh, yeah," Ward Bond.

[fairykukla]

Robert Rodriguez.

The guy who gave us the Spy Kids Franchise, Sin City, and the live action Alita (Battle Angel).

George Miller.

Created the Mad Max series. Also wrote and produced Babe.

Peter Jackson.

Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Meet the Feebles, King Kong, and The Frighteners.

My friend said this but this is a very important point that yall need to understand.

[dankusner]

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. “A lot of people are moving to Texas.”

Trump, who made his official residence in Florida in 2019, has not hidden his love of Texas over the years.

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.

President Joe Biden has made seven trips to Texas since taking office.

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

Although the NRA convention brings gun owners from around the nation, Trump spent big parts of his 98-minute speech focused on Texas, including talking about former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo, a GOP primary election in Beaumont and Gov. Greg Abbott.

Trump called Abbott “a very special man” and a “hot politician. Very hot.”

Then he weighed in on the Texas GOP primary elections, specifically, telling people in the crowd to support Beaumont businessman David Covey in his campaign against House Speaker Dade Phelan.

Covey was at the speech in Dallas, and Trump told the crowd he has his “complete endorsement” in the May 28 runoff election in Southeast Texas.

Finally, Trump started talking about playing golf with Romo.

“He may be a better golfer than a football player,” Trump said.

But it wasn’t all about Texas. Trump also took time to lambaste Robert F. Kennedy Jr., warning the crowd that he was a disaster and they should not be tempted to vote for him in November.

“Do not think about it,” Trump said. “Don’t waste your vote.”

And of course, Trump talked about his support for the NRA, reminding the crowd about what he did for the gun rights organization during his tenure as president, namely appointing conservative judges.

Former President Donald Trump suddenly stopped talking for more than 30 seconds during a speech at the National Rifle Association’s annual meeting in Dallas over the weekend, leading President Joe Biden’s campaign to capitalize on speculation about whether his Republican opponent is fit for office.

The pause came as the presumptive Republican presidential nominee addressed gun owners after receiving the association’s endorsement.

Trump’s critics were quick to attack, saying Trump froze during his speech and is unfit to serve.

His supporters said he paused for dramatic effect.

The campaigns’ sparring was the latest in a back-and-forth about both candidates’ ages and mental competency.

Biden is 81 and Trump is 77.

The Biden-Harris HQ account on X, formerly Twitter, posted a 44-second clip showcasing Trump’s more than 30-second pause.

The Biden-Harris HQ account attacked Trump’s entire address, criticizing his speech as 'bizarre' and 'slur-filled' and alleging the dramatic music playing in the background during Trump’s pause is a song favored by conspiracy theorist group QAnon.

The Biden-Harris campaign’s post Saturday was the second time it appeared to attack Trump’s competency over the weekend.

On Friday, the account called Trump 'feeble' after his podium shifted when he leaned on it at an event in St. Paul, Minnesota.

On Trump’s side, social media users speculated Trump’s pause was due to a problem with his teleprompter.

But Trump said that was not the case.

In a post on Truth Social, Trump said that the 30-second 'period of silence' is a standard part of his speeches and that the Biden-Harris campaign was to blame for the 'fake story' that he froze.

'The reason they came up with this Disinformation is that Biden freezes all the time, can’t put two sentences together, and can rarely find his way off the stage without help,' Trump wrote. 'Donald Trump doesn’t freeze!'

During his address Saturday, Trump promised to undo gun regulations passed during the Biden administration and stoked fears of the Biden administration 'coming for your guns.'

'In my second term, we will roll back every Biden attack on the Second Amendment,' Trump said

Dallas’ NRA Deal Is Public’s Business

Taxpayers deserve to know where money goes

Cities in Texas and across the country play a cutthroat game to win big business, from corporate relocations to massive conventions.

The name of the game is public incentives, and it’s played with your money.

That is why we wince when public officials resist attempts to disclose who gets the money, and how much.

Once a contract has been signed, the people on whose behalf that contract is signed have a right to know what it says.

Watchdog reporting by KERA News revealed that Dallas offered a generous deal to the National Rifle Association so that the group would host its 2024 convention in town.

There are many reasons to be concerned about the NRA coming to town, but a city that is in the convention business is limited by law in discriminating based on content.

And Dallas gives out incentives widely to bring groups to its convention center, as do other cities.

What should concern us all about the NRA contract is that city representatives didn’t want to show it or talk about other groups that benefit from tourism incentives.

When KERA requested the contract, the city blocked release of the dollar amounts.

It told the office of the Texas attorney general that the information should be withheld because its release would provide an advantage to competitors.

An assistant attorney general disagreed and forced the city to release the information.

That is how we learned that the city gave the NRA a discount that more than halved its $931,990 bill for renting the Kay Bailey Hutchison Convention Center.

On top of that, the NRA was offered a $450,000 subsidy in public tourism funds.

Was that a sweetheart deal for the NRA or a common practice of discounting for big conventions?

Hard to say, and that’s one reason why making these contracts public is important.

KERA asked City Hall and Visit Dallas, the nonprofit tasked with marketing the city, what other groups qualify for tourism incentives.

Spokespeople demurred, citing “confidentiality.”

It’s an unacceptable response to a straightforward question about who is getting public funds on behalf of the people of Dallas.

And it’s baffling given that an annual report about Dallas tourism funds cites examples of events that received incentives, such as the NCAA Women’s Final Four and the International Roofing Expo.

Craig Davis, CEO of Visit Dallas, told us the NRA wasn’t treated differently than other groups that are automatically considered for incentives based on their estimated hotel bookings and economic impact.

The amount of the subsidy is dependent on the number of confirmed hotel rooms as determined by an audit after the event.

Davis said officials protect information about incentives not to keep the public in the dark but to avoid revealing Dallas’ playbook to other cities competing for convention business.

“Our only concern is that we provide this to someone who could use this against us in the future,” he said.

We get that competition is fierce and that officials need wiggle room during negotiations.

But incentive programs can run out of control without public scrutiny.

That’s why we are glad that Texas in recent years has peeled back the curtain.

Cities’ economic development agreements are now searchable through a state database, and lawmakers updated open-records law to make government contracts more transparent.

Once an agreement stipulating the use of public money and public property is final, it belongs in the daylight.

[tunglo]

Father Ignatius just keeps giving...

Digby Mackworth Dolben - he of the tragic schoolboy crush genre of poetry - was apparently a novice in Ignatius' order! Digby was so unrepentantly blatant in his obsession with an older boy at school that he was almost kicked out of Eton. (no amount of exclamation marks would be sufficient)

Anyway, he promised his parents he'd try to keep his interest in both boys and Ritualism on the downlow, but wrote to his cousin (Robert Bridges) in Jan 1864:

I am to have an introduction to Brother Ignatius of Claydon!!!

Over the next few months Digby became completely obsessed with Ignatius and the Order - so much so that he didn't want to go back to Eton after Easter break. Ignatius invited him to at least one sleepover at Ascot Priory where he met Pusey and Lydia Sellon during this time, and Digby dutifully went around calling himself Brother Dominic and trying to convert all his friends to the cause. He left Eton at Christmas '64.

In '65, when his tutor was ill, Digby wrote to Robert Bridges' mother and asked if he could come stay for a bit, and learn alongside her younger son and his tutor. She told him absolutely no way because she didn't trust him not to corrupt her son with his papism! Despite his promises to be 'discreet', she wouldn't back down. (All his letters to Robert were still waxing lyrical about Ignatius and the Order, so I guess it wasn't without reason.)

To cheer him up Bridges let him visit at Oxford and introduced Digby to Gerald Manley Hopkins who fell in immediate infatuation. Per Wiki: Hopkins's biographer Robert Bernard Martin asserts that Hopkins's meeting with Dolben, "was, quite simply, the most momentous emotional event of [his] undergraduate years, probably of his entire life". They exchanged letters up to Digby's untimely death and Hopkins wrote poetry for him.

Digby was then sent to Boughrood to prepare for Oxford, and his classmates there remembered him as "a young monk of mediaeval times. … In appearance he was tall and slight, with a complexion of transparent pallor. He had good features, and fine dark melancholy eyes. Do you remember Dore's picture of a young monk sitting in chapel among a lot of older men, & gazing sadly into vacancy? He was rather like that."

He was still obsessed with Ignatius and the Order, to the point he was travelling to Llanthony Abbey and back in full monkish garb. When he wasn't busy telling everyone he was going to be a monk, he tended to go on about his crush from Eton. Throughout late '66 / early '67 everyone's recollection seems to be of a sad pale lonely young man, not much looking forward to Oxford but determined to see out his promise to his father that he wouldn't become a Catholic until after he graduated...

He drowned on June 28th in the River Welland, presumably after fainting in the water while swimming. Robert Bridges later collected his poetry and published it.

On river banks my love was born, And cradled 'neath a budding thorn, Whose flowers never more shall kiss Lips half so sweet and red as his. Beneath him lily-islands spread With broad cool leaves a floating bed: Around, to meet his opening eyes, The ripples danced in glad surprise. I found him there when spring was new, When winds were soft and skies were blue; I marvelled not, although he drew My whole soul to him, for I knew That he was born to be my king, And I was only born to sing With faded lips and feeble lays His love and beauty all my days...

[byneddiedingo]

This is one of the few Frank Capra movies I can watch without getting annoyed or queasy. It was made before he let his sentimental populism go to his head, so it has just the right amount of social consciousness, especially the sympathy for the victims of the Great Depression. We see that especially in the camaraderie of the bus riders singing "The Man on the Flying Trapeze," the willingness of Peter (Clark Gable) to give his last dollar to help a mother and son who have spent all their money on bus fare and have none left for food, and in the sense of entitlement shown by rich girl Ellie (Claudette Colbert), who learns a lesson when she tries to jump the queue for the showers at the trailer court. Later, Capra would want to preach at us about the power of The People in Meet John Doe (1941) and the way One Man Can Change the World in It's a Wonderful Life (1946), films I can barely watch today. But here he's just content to give us a good-natured romantic comedy with a social subtext. It has all the earmarks of the genre: a meet-cute, a hate-at-first-sight, a falling-in-love, a crisis, and a happy ending -- the paradigmatic runaway bride. It's not especially a laugh-riot, which may be why Gable and Colbert, who didn't want to make the movie to start with, thought when they'd finished it that it would be a bomb. Its charms are quieter but in their way entirely satisfying, in part because whatever their doubts about the movie they were making, the two stars were consummate pros and Capra allowed their natural charm and charisma to shine. All three of them won Oscars, of course, as did the movie and Robert Riskin for his screenplay. Joseph Walker's cinematography deserves a mention, as does a cast that includes Walter Connolly, Roscoe Karns, Alan Hale, and, as the dimwit bus driver whose only response to Peter's insults is a feeble "Oh, yeah," Ward Bond.

it happened one night |1934|

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I the scholar interlude

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Bruce Banner angst (&POV). Because our boys are sad and writer has a saviour complex. That's about it.

For the longest time, Bruce Banner considered himself unwanted, unloveable, undesirable. He would've been just as happy to be ignored as he was content with existing only within the confines of his own lab, his presence on this planet only marked by the ever growing pile of projects and articles with his name on them.

Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. He wanted nothing to do with his father's name so he dropped it years ago but one look at his government ID still made him sick deeply in the pit of his stomach. Sometimes, being the Hulk had it's advantages, and by that he meant, it was good that people mostly left him alone.

But his life was built on exceptions and he knew that sooner or later, the carefully maintained balance would tip one way or another. The exception came in a form of a fellow brilliant scientist and innovative engineer - just like multiple times before, he'd worked side by side with Tony without a second thought, not expecting much more than the feeble attempts to make friends and subsequent abandonment once Tony got what he wanted from him.

Bruce failed to take into account, perhaps, the most obvious thing: Tony was a man who had everything and nothing. Bruce didn't expect Tony's deeply rooted loneliness to affect him; after all, he was used to being alone himself, alone was safe, for everyone, not just him. But Tony's smile was a little wicked, and it knocked and knocked on his doors until he had no other option but to let Tony in.

"PUNY BANNER ALWAYS AFRAID," Hulk mocked him inside his head. Despite wanting to blow out his brains every single day, Bruce sighed and soldiered on, focusing on his research instead of answering to his green problem. It was all pointless anyway.

Days blended into one another like they tended to do when one had no destination; achievements and professional success stacked up on top of each other but it was all a tapestry, background noise to his ever-living cacophony of problems and struggles with fighting with himself. Every day, he wanted just to lay down and die.

In times like these, the Hulk took the wheel, dipping Banner nose-first, like a misbehaving pet, into the fact that he had nothing to live for. Nothing to look forward to. The meaninglessness of his life.

"Maybe, the destination isn't that important," She was a child, a girl little out of her teens, and it alarmed Bruce how much she seemed to agree with him sometimes. It seemed wrong for someone so young to be so disillusioned with life. "Maybe it was the shawarma we ate along the way," She shrugged, not noticing how those words seemed to affect Bruce at all. These days, it seemed, children crawled out of the womb already bitter and disappointed.

It went on like that for ages. She was a contradiction, very much like Tony, with a grin that was a little wicked and a mouth that was a little shameless. She bore no expectations towards him and seemed to be slightly afraid of herself; the longer he thought about it, the less sense it made. He was a logical man, left-brain-dominant, and he was entirely sure it should have been the other way around.

The Hulk, however, didn't seem to agree with him. As usual, he wanted to say, the green beast was just making his life difficult because he - he was the anger, the grief Banner himself hadn't been allowed to express - but the more he was forced to listen to the Hulk's ramblings, the more terrified he found himself. Because he agreed.

She'd smile at him over the top of the beaker and Bruce'd smile back before he could catch himself. The guilt always came and went. It was hard to feel guilty when she refused to. The carelessness that all young people possessed was blossoming in her; only later he found out how wrong he was - there was no carelessness, there was no youthful joy, she was just as afraid and confused as he was.

"Puny Banner afraid," Hulk remarked, thoughtfully.

Yes, yes, he was afraid. He was afraid he'd tainted her somehow, but Hulk violently rebuked the thought, refusing to let him out for several hours, taking control almost pleadingly as the green beast attempted to convince Banner befriend the girl. In the end, he gave in. He always gave in.

He was afraid many times after that one, but it was a different fear. Fear of loss wasn't anything either Banner or Hulk were familiar with so the learning process took even less time than they both predicted; somehow, the woes of figuring out a friendship with an outsider united the man and the beast more than any battle against a common enemy. It was puzzling but also incredibly rewarding; the joys of a common success elevating both persons stuck in a single body.

"Banner afraid?" The Hulk asked, seeing the Asgardian trickster himself enter the lab.

No, Bruce said, because Loki looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but in the green beast's lair; something important was on his mind and if they had to guess, it was their Princess.

"The Widow asked me a favour," Loki began, eyeing the various contraptions in the lab. "Although, I must admit, I have no idea why she thinks you can do serious damage. The beast is merely a beast and you, Banner, would rather shoot yourself in the foot than harm anyone but yourself," The man's tone was bored.

"I don't understand..?" Bruce was confused, temporarily losing the guarded attitude.

"I think you do. And it's about time you stop making other people save you from yourself," Loki's green eyes caught his own and Banner's breath got stuck in his throat; there was something intimate, a very familiar expression on Loki's face. It disappeared as soon as Bruce quietly acknowledged it. "I, for one, have no desire to lose this... Sense of companionship that has been cultivated recently." With that, the god turned around and promptly exited the space, taking any possibility of explanation with him.

"Banner afraid of himself," The Hulk concluded, uncharacteristically mellow in the back of his mind. Bruce cursed wordlessly, the green beast merely laughing in response. "Princess isn't afraid of Banner, isn't afraid of Hulk," The Jolly Green boasted, feeling way too satisfied for someone who'd made their first friend.

The childlike joy was infectious, it turned out, and day after day it became easier to breathe around here. Only his darker part wasn't as under control as it used to be and continuously craved more and more; as soon as Bruce acknowledged she was no child but rather a very capable, intelligent woman who's been forced to grow up sooner than strictly necessary, the desire consumed him, turned him careless and sloppy.

It didn't help that Tony had come to the same conclusion. Hulk all but forced Banner to go out and confess and clear his conscience; it seemed that lately, out of two of them, Hulk was the adult and Banner was the child being egged on to finally grow up by a persistent, supportive parent. Hulk and supportive? More likely that you'd think, especially when the green creature itself was interested in a positive outcome.

"Banner afraid?" Hulk's quiet words provided him with the strength he needed to meet her eyes, wide and round, as she wordlessly pleaded with him to help her. No, he was not afraid, not anymore. He believed her, he believed himself. For the first time in ages, he had a reason to be.

Banner wasn't afraid anymore. That said, it wasn't as if he suddenly became careless and sloppy - more like the opposite. Turned out, he was living his life without a care in the world but his paralyzing fear of himself. It was hard to be afraid under a thousand-watt smile, it was impossible to stay invisible seeing yourself reflect in eyes that shone brighter than the stars.

He'd always considered himself to be a hopeless romantic to the point of ridicule. He'd reached a point where love songs made sense and no poet was quite skilled enough to capture the sweet storms raging behind his ribs. If anything, she returned the sentiment tenfold, quietly and shyly.

Love didn't scream from the rooftops and didn't force him to fall head over heels only God knew where; it had been next to him the whole time, quiet and drowsy, waiting, expecting. Over dinner or under florescent lab lights, the Beast and his Beauty shared the conversations, ate the soul food.

"I think, if I had to ask for a portrait of Us, I would have to request the painting twice," She said, puzzling his mind (as usual). He remained quiet, expecting her to explain. "There are the public Us, the ones that wear their suits and smiles like warriors wear armour. That's the way I want the world to remember me, pretty and smiling. I don't want people to cry at my funeral, I want them to dance and be happy because I existed," She caught his stare, smile a little too teasing and eyes a little too serious. "And then there are Us that only we see. It's intimate and I don't think the whole world has earned the privilege to see me like that. I don't think some paper shark should have the honour to see the way Tony's eyes light up for you or the way Loki gets gentle around Wanda. Things like that are earned," It was bizarre, it was strange and it made all the sense.

Perhaps, it was the fact that his Princess was just as weird as the rest of them that made her fit in so quickly, so easily. And he was afraid - it was only a matter of time until the idyllic atmosphere would turn into something heavy and difficult.

It did, but not in the way he thought it would be. For the first time in years, Banner was angry. Not Hulk - Bruce was angry, and he allowed that anger to flow, to course through his veins like molten lava. He didn't fight it, he wasn't afraid of it. Not anymore.

She took it away, too. In the end, she was the bandaid to his bleeding wound, the lullaby to soothe his fear - Banner was angry but Hulk was afraid. They both knew they were helpless, having to rely on others to make sure they will never, ever feel that way again.

So when the female-looking symbiote landed on the patio of the residential floor, Bruce's heart skipped a single beat only. Tony's prone form raised a reasonable amount of concern, but their attention quickly turned to the girl-no, woman, standing still, both terrified and fearless at the same time, as she once again took his fear and anger away.

She was beautiful, like a goddess, like a Valkyrie from Thor's tales, dropping the enemy at their feet like a cat brought his prey to it's owner; her actions screamed "love me" but her words knew it might as well be the last time she'd see them be warm towards her. Much like Banner, she was afraid of herself. Of what she's capable of.

"Bruce, don't tell me you're okay with this," Tony pleaded. Banner knew Tony, he knew how sensitive was the engineer to his personal bubble being broken and he knew, she knew it, too. If she was willing to take the risk, they meant more than life to her. It was an honour, really.

"I'm not but I have to be," He removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes. "I can't risk it, Tony. If we reject her now, we'll never see her again. She's just as terrified as we are, if not more. We've been living like this, what, five, ten years? And it never gets easier. I know it, you know it." The more he spoke, the surer he became. "She accepted us, our shit and all. For once, I'll be the better person and do the same." With that, he departed for her, hugging her from behind as Natasha and Loki stood by her side with Wanda holding onto the Asgardian.

Bruce held his breath until Tony joined in, hiding his silent tears in his shirt. Neither of them could decide what hurt more - losing her or the potential of facing the very unforgiving reality of their life. Bruce had to trust Tony to pick the right option, to do the right thing and it was terrifying, it was skin-frightening but sometimes, there was just no other way.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week # 54

I never heard of Aniara, a book-length epic in 103 cantos and a symbolic science fiction poem that was written by Swedish Nobel winner Harry Martinson in 1956.

Because I don’t watch nearly any SciFi movies, I can’t tell how innovative the 2018 Swedish Aniara high-concept adaptation is, but for me it was the most amazing film I’ve seen this week. Philosophical, poetic and unusual, it reminded me of Ingmar Bergman existentialist dramas - in space. A luxurious spaceship carrying settlers to Mars is knocked off course, and is destined to fly indefinitely toward interstellar space. 9/10.

The trailer.

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The second Swedish film I saw, the off-kilter The 100 Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared, was the third highest grossing Swedish film of all time (?!), only beaten by two of the Lisbeth Salander saga. It’s a broad comedy, a bit like Forrest Gump, in that the feeble-minded 100-year-old man had many adventures in his life, from the invention of the condom, fighting in the Spanish civil war, meeting Stalin and Robert Oppenheimer, etc. But it wasn’t funny, or insightful, or suspenseful. 3/10.

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In the first scenes of Michael Haneke’s pessimist Time of the Wolf, Isabelle Huppert and her family arrives at their vacation cabin in the wood to find that it been occupied by another family. Without any warning, her husband is shot dead. The three survivors must fend for themselves in a bleak, desperate countryside that was devastated by an unexplained catastrophe. Reminded me of a dystopian ‘Waiting for Godot’ as written by Cormac McCarthy.

What is the meaning of Haneke naming many of his main characters Anne and Georges Laurent?  8/10.

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Let the sunshine in, my first Claire Denis film. Sensuous, vulnerable middle age Juliette Binoche flounders in her search for sex and romance like a clueless teenage, bouncing from one worthless lover to another, not able to figure out how to find a man worthy of her appeal. Considered a feminist masterpiece, it did not exactly connect with me. It was hard to imagine that only inauthentic men will fall for the wondrous Binoche. 2/10

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Vignette Robinson X 2:

🎦 🎦 🎦 In the new Boiling Point stressful pressure cooker she plays a sous-chef in an hectic restaurant kitchen run by an Anthony Bourdain-type chef Stephen Graham ("Tony Pro" Provenzano in ‘The Irishman’). Tight, anxiety-inducing drama.

Like ‘Russian Arc’, ’Rope’ & ‘1917′, Etc. it is shot in one smooth single-take shot, which is a gimmick but is nearly unnoticeable. 8/10.

(Photo Above).

🎦 🎦 🎦 Hated in the nation - 3rd re-watch in one year (!) and one of my all-time favorite “Black Mirror” episodes, a perfect full-feature thriller. Vignette Robinson was the teacher who sent the Iced Hate Cake to Jo Powers. Like I mentioned before, DCI Kelly Macdonald (AND “Blue Coulson”) were both terrific, and deserve an extended series.

"I didn't expect to be living in the future but here I fucking well am..." 10/10

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I didn’t know anything at all about Enfant terrible fashion designer Alexander McQueen, so McQueen was all new to me. A first-class biography about the young and talented couturier that proves that fashion is art. 

7+/10 - highly recommended!.

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Anthropocene: The Human Epoch, a beautifully bleak documentary by Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky, about the environmental crimes & irreversible devastation caused by grand scale industrialization on earth.  

It opens with a tragic scene in Kenya, with 10,000 poached elephants tusks gathered in giant piles for public burning, and gets even more depressing with each new chapter: Extraction, Terra-forming, Techno-fossils, Anthro-turbation, Extinction...

Humans deserve so much to perish from this earth. I truly wish it happens soon.

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2 X Coen Brothers:

🎦 🎦 🎦 ...By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes...

The Tragedy of Macbeth, Joel Coen’s cold, new Shakespeare-based adaptation. Since I’m not too versed in The Bard’s actual works, I cannot judge it on its face. But its empty German Expressionistic production design and serious playacting are beautiful and captivating.

🎦 🎦 🎦 Friday Night Re-watch Special (No. N+1): It was the first time that I introduced and enjoyed together cult-favorite The Big Lebowski to a young stoner friend who had never seen it!

His comment, which I never noticed: We actually know nothing about Donny Kerabatsos, where he’s from, what is he about.

...No, Walter, it did NOT look like Larry was about to crack! ...

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Billy Wilder’s film noir Double Indemnity, with a cameo by Raymond Chandler, the only footage of him known anywhere. There must have been a time when the concept of insurance salesman hero Fred MacMurray planning a murder for money was considered cutting edge. Curiously, the whole insurance game is described here as a racket built on denying clients their claims ,not as a way to compensate them after various losses. Re-watch.

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Stine Fischer Christensen X 2:

🎦 🎦 🎦 I “had to” see Susanne Bier’s sensitive After the wedding AGAIN (5th time? 6th time? this year). Economically-written by Anders Thomas Jensen, with the delectable couple Sidse Babett Knudsen & Mads Mikkelsen, and a unpredictable story of love, mortality and reunion. I could just watch it again & again.

🎦 🎦 🎦 The young daughter from ‘After the wedding’ is a pregnant wife in the 2017 crime story, Darkland (‘Underverden’). Another interesting, Danish crime drama about the conflicts of the Arab minority in Copenhagen. A successful RigsHospital heart surgeon becomes a killing vigilante after his young junkie brother is murdered by an underground gang.

This is another in a series of Arab-Scandinavian filmmakers who tell stories about Iraqis (Palestinians, Etc.) as marginalized criminals. On the one hand, it’s a standard revenge-action film. If it was American, I would dismiss or ignore it. But it was well made, with the fascinating-in-real-life Roland Møller, in neighborhoods that I've been to often.

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Fabrice Mathieu’s The End, a supercut short made with 500 movies gifs. (Similar to György Pálfi's 2012 Final Cut, Ladies and Gentlemen).

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Throw-back to the art project:

Shakespeare Adora.  

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(My complete movie list is here)

[bigmacdaddio]

Trump

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

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 28 June 1836

7

12 20

- no kiss read prayers to A- and at my desk at 8 ¼ - very fine morning and F69° the sun not having yet got round to the thermometer hanging out of my study window to the south - began and wrote 5 lines of a letter to M- called down to Mr. husband - had 2 women from Hatters fold to beg time - they could not get houses - after hard begging A- gave them till the 7th of next month - Mr. Husband had Mr. Bradley’s bill for the deals got last week (Saturday) - took H- into the kitchen and barn to see about the alterations I thought of (vid. yesterday) - he thinks they might all be done very easily and everything for a hundred pounds breakfast at 9 ¼ - A- did her French - meant to have spent the day at my desk but A- wished me to go out with her while she sketched the rocks - out with her from about 10 to 12 ½ then as she would not have luncheon got her a glass of wine and biscuits and then walked her out in the walk for ½ hour and left her about 2 to ride to Ann Lee’s and Cliff Hill - (she returned at 5) -  I out from 2 to 6 ¼ musing over the manner I had planned while with A- this morning of finishing them then with John Booth mowing the long grass and ferns and brambles in the conery wood, and at the rocks again till Mr. Husband came to me a little

SH:7/ML/E/19/0067

before 5 about A’s Hatters fold cottages - now thinks they had better be only 2 stories high - to raise them 3 stories would cost about £12 additional - 2 stories would let for £5 per annum each and this the workmen at Northgate told him would be best - then had H- in the barn again and explained further my plan of alterations - exclusive of doors he said £14 would do the coach house - he would put up the present coach house doors to slide and throw the whole space open when required - dinner at 6 ½ - coffee - A- did her French - just going when Mrs. Thompson of Chapel of Briers Southowram and as Mrs. Howarth with her - called to ask me if Mrs. Ferguson was really dead - confirmed the report of the death Mrs. T- had heard of Mrs. Carter and told all I knew about it - very civil - gave the 2 ladies wine and biscuits and when there was mention of Mrs. T- not returning to Halifax but going home over the hills (up Pump lane) but that she would be alone, offered to send a servant with her - she, however, determined to return with her friend to H-x - Mrs. Thompson seemed perplexed whether to put on mourning or not - I said, I thought Mrs. Graham the daughter would have informed her (Mrs. T-) of the death if her putting on mourning had been wished or expected and she seemed satisfied to determine to give herself no further trouble - I observed that we were often satisfied to let such ill conducted persons as Mrs. F- slip away as unnoticed as we could - A- and I out from 8 ¾ for an hour - at the Lodge, and Conery to see if there were any old windows that would do for my alterations here - then ½ hour with my aunt - kind letter per post 1 ½ p. from lady Stuart Whitehall - she seems feeble and breaking but writes in fair spirits - will be very glad to see me - to be in London (at her house Whitehall) the 18th of next month - letter 3 pp. and ends from Lady VC- sated 27th instant Bradfield house - seems not to have heard of me - very kindly asks me to go and see her - expects to be confined in August - will be still 2 years before betting their house at Achnacarry - the Cannings go per steam to Scotland - to pay visits in the Highlands and Lowlands - 2 half sheets containing 6pp. franked by Lord Hereford from Lady Gordon - very glad to hear from me - will be very glad to see me - on the 12th or 13th of next month - going to Herefordshire for the summer - will be in London for 2 months before next Easter and then going abroad for 12 months of all which we are to talk when we meet - mentions a travelling servant Vincenzio Nanni, husband to her maid (the one she had abroad, of course) who travelled with Mr. Hogg, and has excellent credentials from Mr. H- Lady G- herself does not know much of him - will speak to him for me if I like - begs me to write immediately - note from Booth the bookseller to say he has a 4to copy of the Statutes at large to dispose of for £65 i.e. £20 below the prime cost - the property of an attorney in H-x who has 2 copies - wrote the above of today till 11 ¼ pm at which hour F52° very fine day tho’ a single drop or 2 of rain about 11 am and rain threatening morning - but it held off and Robert Mann and Joseph M- and all their hands were in the hay