#so gonna switch to using that

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing Ch1

ao3

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

Jonathan Sims was in a foul mood. It had been approximately 37 hours since the intrusion attempt, but he was only just now able to get himself out of bed. Bad pain days were nothing new of course, but he had so many things he needed to get done and the fact that his schedule could be so derailed by a group of misguided youths daring each other to harass the dangerous recluse who lived in the woods was aggravating to say the least. 

He’d tried to expend as little magic as possible to strengthen the barrier and reroute them back in the other direction, with vague suggestions of horrors flickering across their vision to hopefully deter future attempts, but they were persistent and it had left John completely drained. 

At least it had worked in the end. Settling on this method to keep out intruders had been a long trial-and-error process, and he bore scars that proved it necessary. This was the safest method for all involved. 

Not for the first time he wondered if he should leave, move far away, but he’d already tried that. That was how he’d ended up here in the first place, except the pre-existing building and defenses had been a stroke of luck that wouldn’t be happening a second time. There was no way he would be able to build a house and start over all on his own. 

Besides, it wasn’t like magic was looked on more favorably anywhere else. He’d be in danger wherever he went, and he couldn’t hide forever. At least these woods were dangerous to travel through, discouraging most from exploring. 

The irony wasn’t lost on him that he was more afraid of those in the town nearby who had discovered him than he was the monsters that lived with him in the forest. Then again, the fact that the monsters didn't seem to want him dead on the same level might be because they saw him as one of them, and that didn’t exactly set him at ease either. 

Regardless, all of this had led to him outside, elbow deep in soil, replanting herbs well after dark. They had been outgrowing the hanging basket for some time now and he simply couldn’t put off relocating them any longer. The forests were dangerous once night fell, but he was more than safe inside his little haven. 

At least, he was supposed to be. 

There was a loud crash followed by his chickens squawking in surprise and indignation and John felt his blood run cold. If a wild animal or monster had gotten in, the chickens would be making very different noises. In a lot of ways, it would have been better if it had been, at least then he wouldn’t have to find a way to fend them off without harming them. 

No, it had to be those delinquents, back to try again, and John had just been too weak to notice their approach. The runes were still in place and the barrier was definitely still up. If they’d discovered how to pass through without destroying it, he would be in serious danger. He could be overrun by the entire town, a proper angry mob, and he would stand no chance. 

His old injuries ached, reminders of why it was so much safer to isolate himself, to hide away from the world. It was scary enough being confronted with one reckless kid trying to impress his friends let alone the entire town. He let himself cling to his anger, at the indignation of it all, the constant fear he was too tired to feel anymore, and he let it stoke that anger. 

He knew he wasn’t exactly an imposing figure, but he had an impressive temper, and it had successfully chased off some before they could realize how frail he looked. If he could utilize that now, he would. Anger was easier than dwelling on that fear anyway. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he fumed, raising his voice as he grabbed his cane and used it to help leverage himself onto his feet. “Back again so soon? I was lenient before, but if you insist on intruding, you’ll wish I had simply killed you when I had the chance, instead of running you off—“ 

He came around the side of the chicken coop and froze. Lying on the ground in a heap was not a young delinquent but an injured man, looking up at him in bewilderment, breathing hard, presumably from running away from whatever had injured him. And, no doubt, the shock of winding up in John’s little hiding place. 

“Good lord, are you hurt?” John asked, taken completely off guard. He bit his lip to try to focus, get back on track, because he couldn’t show that sort of weakness here, not in front of a stranger. He raised his cane as if he or it were anywhere strong enough to bludgeon someone. “If you leave now, perhaps I will show mercy— wait, you’re bleeding rather a lot—“

“Sorry,” the man said, throwing him off again. “About your chickens.”

He didn’t even look afraid of John like he should be. Confused, yes, and certainly in pain, but the fact that his concern was immediately on the chickens he had frightened left John with no idea what to do. Especially when the man collapsed, unconscious. 

“Well,” John said, studying the man, bringing his cane back down to lean on. “That’s inconvenient.”

John himself had been described many ways; wiry, scrawny, lanky, and the like, and the man on the ground was anything but small, more than twice as wide. This would be difficult, but not impossible. Over exertion would leave him unable to move much the next day or so, but he should be able to get him inside and tend to his injuries before his bad leg gave out. Probably. 

-

Honestly, John was grateful that the stranger hadn’t been conscious for any of his puffing and panting as he dragged the man into his bedroom and eventually onto his bed. It was altogether an undignified experience. He was successful in the end, though, and finally set to tending his injuries. 

There were plenty of superficial cuts on exposed skin, a hazard of sprinting through the trees and brambles. There was an ugly gash on his side, though; one that looked suspiciously familiar. If it was what he thought, this man could have been marked and still be in danger. He should strengthen his wards just in case. 

He was about to draw away when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He barely managed to stop himself from yelling in surprise, looking down at the large hand holding him in place. The grip wasn’t particularly tight, but it still caused his hand to shake minutely, unwelcome memories helpfully supplying possibilities for the sorts of terrible directions this situation could go in. 

He looked up at the large man currently in his bed. He still looked pale and weak and afraid. No anger or accusation in his eyes, which was possibly a good sign. To his surprise, the man’s eyes widened at John’s reaction and he quickly released him, raising his hand as if to reassure. The shock of this was enough to surprise John out of his own fear, leaving him bewildered.

“Please, wait,” the man said, voice weak. “Please don’t go.”

“You— want me to stay?” John asked. Maybe he just didn’t understand what was happening, too delirious with pain. Maybe he didn’t know where he was. 

“There was something out there—“ he said with wide eyes. 

“It wasn’t me,” John said quickly, and the man looked confused, as if it didn’t make sense for every townsperson to accuse John of any ill that befell them in the forest. 

“No, I know,” he said, still looking confused. 

“O-okay,” John said. “I’ll stay.”

The man looked so relieved he let out a heavy sigh, his eyes falling shut. He must have been exhausted. And if he’d had an encounter with one of the more insidious monsters in the forest, John felt for him and what he must be going through. 

And then John berated himself for the thought. It didn’t help to feel for others, to get attached. Yes, this stranger had such an open and friendly face, and he appreciated the consideration he showed in releasing and reassuring John despite his own fear. But once he was properly awake, he was sure he’d change his tune. Still, John didn’t want to have to see this man’s expression twisted in disgust or hatred, directed at him. 

John shook his head as if that could banish the thoughts. This was pointless, this always went the same way. As far as the town was concerned, John was the boogeyman they warned their kids about. The monsters in the area were supposed to be all his fault, and every death they caused was blamed on him. This man would look at him just like all the others, as a monster who had sold his soul or some such nonsense. 

The truth was, he was just as much a monster as far as the townspeople were concerned. Any time he’d found one injured and tried to help, they’d usually fled as soon as they were able. After a few days at most, this man would be gone and John would be alone again, as he was meant to be. As he deserved. 

The biggest danger would be trying to avoid angering the man or accidentally getting in his way during his escape and getting injured for it. His body had taken more than enough punishment over the years and he wasn’t exactly keen to add to his collection of scars. And this man was solid and strong even despite his injury. 

John waited another hour before he left the stranger to his sleep. He knew all too well the nightmares the things in the forest could give, so he weaved a little magic, hoping it might help keep them away, allowing him to actually rest peacefully. A wave of exhaustion washed over him for his efforts, but he simply sighed. It was time to get back to his planting. 

-

John was moving much slower today, exhaustion and pain seeping through every part of him. He wasn’t going to take a break, though, he had too much to do. He’d changed the stranger’s bandages that morning, but he didn’t have a chance to check in on him again until early evening. He was halfway across the bedroom before he realized the man was sitting up, watching him, and he stumbled to a halt. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, blinking in surprise. Then winced. He of all people knew how invasive it could be, stuck in an unknown place, at the mercy of someone else. He wanted to do this properly, make sure this man knew he would be given as much privacy as possible, and he’d already messed it up. “I apologize, moving forward, I will be sure to knock before entering.”

“It’s fine, it’s your house,” the man said with a shrug. “I should be thanking you, you saved my life. I’m Martin, by the way.”

“Um, Jonathan. John,” he replied. “You do know where you are, right?”

“I think so,” Martin said, glancing around at the room, as if it held the answers. John wasn’t much for interior design, it was mostly filled with practical items, tools and supplies, extra blankets. No evil talismans or dead birds or whatever people thought he should collect. “I remember running through the forest, running from— something. So I assume that means you’re—“

“It’s fine,” John said casually when he stopped to ponder his next words. “You don't have to find a polite way to say it, I know they call me a witch.”

“A-are you?” Martin asked, and to his credit, he did look more curious than fearful. 

“No, but people don’t exactly care about the nuances,” Jon said with distaste, conveniently leaving out the bit where he did in fact know magic and didn’t exactly get this ability from a reputable source. “If they see something they can’t explain, they usually chalk it up to witchcraft.”

“Okay,” Martin said, as if that answered everything, as if he was going to simply accept his word for it. John told himself it didn’t mean anything, he could just want to move on. But there was something so trusting in his eyes. It made him feel unsteady. 

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat. What was he even doing? He had a script and everything to make this as smooth as possible. He needed to get back on track. ”I have gone to great lengths to tend your wounds, so I suggest you not do anything to worsen them. Unfortunately, that means a return journey back to town is ill advised, so I am forced to extend my hospitality while you heal. You are, of course, welcome to leave at any time, but my protection only extends to my land here. Once you cross over the perimeter, if you collapse, I will not be carrying you back here again. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes,” Martin said quickly, but he looked concerned. “I don’t want to impose—“

“Nonsense,” Jon said dismissively, because there was no chance he would ever throw someone out while they were hurt. “While you are under my care, you will be provided food and shelter. And, no, I don’t plan to poison you. There would be no point.” 

He’d had to add that to the end of his little speech after being accused several times, as baffling as that was. He didn’t even grow anything poisonous here. And then he waited. The man still showed no inclination to flee. 

“O-okay?” was all Martin said, more of a question than confirmation when the silence dragged on a little too long. 

“Usually this is the part where you would try to flee. I won’t chase you if you do.” He indicated his cane by gently tapping it against the wooden floor. “Even injured, you’ll likely be faster.”

“I have no idea what is happening right now,” Martin said. “I don’t really want to run, do I have to?” 

“Wha— no, obviously not,” Jon said. He’d been doing his best to stand straight, give some sort of weight to his presence, even if he wasn’t exactly imposing. This entire thing was so confusing, though, he couldn’t help but deflate, clutching his cane close to himself with both hands, like he could hide behind it. “Like I said, I’d advise you to stay. It’s just that people usually wish to get as far from here as possible when given the chance. Are you sure you know who I am? It’s just that, I’d heard my reputation was quite grim.” 

Martin pondered this for a moment before he spoke. “You saved my life. I was so terrified and alone, and then you were there. You stayed with me. How could anyone not trust you after that?”

John couldn’t remember the last time someone reacted this way. Had anyone ever, after he’d gotten his magic? He’d come so far, to a place where no one knew Elias Bouchard, where he wouldn’t be associated with the likes of him. But it hadn’t mattered, they could still see the magic in him. 

Not that John had ever been great at lying or hiding his nature. He discovered that the hard way when he’d first gotten involved and went looking for help. That was why he needed a cane most days. Not that he blamed them, they’d been right. This had all been his own fault.  

He pivoted, trying to get back on track, returning to his script to help him through this interaction. He couldn't let himself get so thrown like this, he couldn’t let himself be vulnerable. 

“Well, as I said, you will be staying here until you are well enough to leave. Please make yourself comfortable as this will be your room. I will have dinner prepared shortly. I make three meals a day, but you are of course welcome to any food in the kitchen whenever you like.”

And with that, he turned and left the room. He was on unfamiliar ground, now. So very few people stuck around after this point, and his paranoia was throwing out all sorts of suggestions, reasons why this had to be a trick or a trap. But what would even be the point? 

He sighed and leaned heavily on his cane as he headed for the kitchen. He still had things to do. And a suspiciously endearing individual to cook for. He grimaced. He shouldn’t be thinking of Martin as endearing, he was only going to get himself hurt. He was usually so much better at not getting attached. Maybe he was just more lonely than usual and this was the first person to not lash out at him in— a very long time. 

-

It was a bit of a balancing act, holding the tray of food as well as leaning on his cane all while fumbling with the door after knocking. Eventually John got it open, though, and felt much too proud of himself. Martin made as if to stand when he saw, but he just glared at him and waved him off. He did not want to have to redo any stitches so soon. He then hooked his cane around the leg of a small table and dragged it over to the bed and placed the tray down on it. 

“Dinner,” he said with a gesture, as if that was needed. “In order to avoid aggravating your wound, I thought I would bring it here. However, you will be expected to take meals in the other room in future so long as your condition doesn’t worsen.”

“Of course,” Martin said, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m sorry you had to go to all this trouble.”

“That’s— that’s fine,” John gave him a confused look, because grateful or apologetic was not typically the reaction he received and he found himself thrown once again, uncertain how to proceed. Somehow this made him more worried than anger would have. 

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Martin exclaimed as he examined the food, oblivious to his internal turmoil. 

”Um,” John’s cheeks darkened and he awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “You can leave your dishes there when you are finished. I’ll retrieve them later.”

And then he turned and slipped out of the room at impressive speed before he could say something else kind, that made his chest feel so warm. He decided it was time to scrub the floor. That would distract him from all this. 

[latenightsundayblues]

Lil switcheroo AU I couldn't stop thinking about ever since I saw that one drawing by @gattobamboom

Adam's in the role of Amanda, Lawrence's in the role of Lynn and vice-versa

[choccy-milky]

finally drew clora and seb's kids!!🙌🙌

Celeste Sallow: OK THIS IS THE NAME IM SUPER PROUD OF BAHAHA because not only does the name celeste relate to the stars (in typical ravenclaw fashion...clora picked the name) but celeste sallow is also an alliteration. BUT, its an alliteration that begins with a C, which means clora gets to match with celeste in the form of both of their names starting with a C, whereas sebastian gets to match with celeste because both of their names are an alliteration/they're alliteration allies🥹ITS THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS!🥳

Lewis Sallow: as for lewis, if you've read my fic then you know that seb has a vendetta against names that start with an L bahaha, but 'lewis' was actually HIS idea. when celeste was born, seb wanted to find a muggle story to read to her, since clora's favourite story is ALSO a muggle one (sherlock), and he wanted to stick with tradition. so he ended up finding alice in wonderland, which he loved because of how adventurous and clever alice was and of how much she reminded him of clora and celeste (both personality and looks wise). it became his favourite for those reasons, to the point that when they had lewis, sebastian overcame his L-name hatred by naming their son after lewis carroll.

Houses: celeste could have been sorted into either gryffindor or slytherin, but ultimately ends up in slytherin because she wants to be like seb. kinda like how clora also probably could have been in gryffindor, tbh. as for lewis.....him being 10000% in ravenclaw doesnt need any explanation BAHA, just look at him.

Appearance: since clora has a tiny bit of veela blood in her, thats obvs passed down to their kids, too, and so they mostly take after her as a result of it. but there's still little bits of seb that shine through in each of the kids: for lewis its his brown curly hair, and for celeste its her complexion/freckles. and the fact that celeste looks so similar to clora only doubles up sebastian's stress/protective instincts when he watches her BAHAH. he's ofc still proud that she takes after him so closely, but seb also cant deny that he wishes it had been their SON that had taken after him instead, to keep her out of danger.

Celeste & Lewis: for celeste and lewis’ relationship, celeste is a super proud big sister, and treats lewis kinda like how seb treats clora. if there's anything that needs to be done, she offers to do it for him. and although she doesn’t have the patience to read stories herself, she loves playing outside and having lewis read to her in the background, and loves to act out/use his stories to fuel her imagination. and lewis makes sure to pick stories that he KNOWS she’ll like (which mostly involve heroic and daring feats of adventurers or pirates. he's tried to read more classic fairytales and romances to her a few times, but celeste always gets bored). she loves to draw though, so sometimes when lewis reads books that have no pictures, she'll draw them herself.

Celeste & Seb/Clora: celeste is a daddy's girl LOL and always tries to impress seb with the stuff she does, especially after hearing how HE was at her age, and so its half to impress and half because shes competitive that she wants to do the same/be just as good. and seb always gets a kick out of hearing her feats in the crossed wands club, or in defense against the dark arts class, and he also goads her on, telling her she'll have to do better than that if she wants to be as good as HE was. and whenever celeste gets detention, clora always stresses and asks why, whereas seb just tries to keep the smirk off his face. as for celeste and clora, clora also reads to celeste, and bakes and cooks with her, which is something celeste actually likes doing. not only because it keeps her busy and she likes to help and get messy in general, but also because she likes the fact that it results in good food afterwards LOL, and constantly asks when things can be taken out of the oven. also, for as tomboy-y as celeste is, she honestly doesn't mind/likes the clothing that clora puts her in and likes when clora dresses her up, bc it makes her look like one of the princesses from the storybooks, and it just amuses her more than anything else. once she enters hogwarts, though, its mostly trousers. but she still DOES like the occasional girly clothing.

Lewis & Seb/Clora: lewis is a momma's boy LOL and unlike celeste, doesnt care about duelling or of proving himself or anything like that, and is only concerned with stories and his future studies. so ofc clora had to show him sherlock, which he naturally loved. it even inspired lewis to want to write his own stories, so that he could challenge his own skill and see if he could, but also because he wants his mom to read them, and likes the idea of writing his own sherlock-esque story with equations and mysteries to be solved that he can offer her. lewis also wants to write a book for celeste as well, bc although he wont admit it, he basically wants to write a story tailor-made for her and her interests. one that he thinks will have everything she’d love in it. and part of it is genuinely because he WANTS to do it for her, but the other part of it is also for his ego, and to see if he CAN write a compelling story, and write something that would actually get THE hyperactive celeste to sit down and read it in its entirety (not to mention of her own volition). as for with seb, lewis looks up to him more than anyone else, due to how well-rounded he is and how hes so good at practical stuff AND studying, and he kinda sees seb as a main character/protagonist from one of his books, and uses sebastian as inspiration for his own stories. if hes stuck on what he thinks the dashing main character should do next, he'll ask his dad what HE would do, which results in seb getting very weird questions that he nonetheless is always happy to answer. also, when lewis is older and finally learns the full story of what happened with clora and seb and ranrok and rookwood, he writes their story in novel form, except he just changes their names/some of the details, and it becomes a best seller LOL. and i didnt know where to put this, but the four of them all read a story before bed every night, with lewis in the middle and seb and clora on either side of him. though celeste stands at the foot of the bed, basically doing a charade/mime show of what theyre reading, and putting on a little play to go along with it BAHHA.

OK thats all i can think of for now ive yapped enough😩 if youve read all of this ur a real one.... ive also considered giving them a 3rd (and last) child, which would be a boy that looks exactly like seb, and seb would just be praying like please.....let this son take after me🧎‍♂️🙏 BAHHA

[celaenaeiln]

At the dining table for breakfast

Jason: Heh.

Jason: Hahahaha.

Jason: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Bruce: *raising the newspaper up higher*

Alfred: *placidly pouring coffee into Bruce’s mug* Did something interesting happen, Master Jason?

Jason: Alfred, I am about to have the perfect surprise for that bony a-Tim. The perfect surprise for Tim.

Alfred: *putting away the bar of soap he pulled out of nowhere* Is that so? Please do be careful not to make a mess here. The waxing was just done in the dining room.

Jason: No problem, in fact-

Tim: *entering sluggishly*

Jason: In fact…in…fact…Megamind, what are you doing here?

Tim: ……..hm?

Jason: What are you doing here?

Tim: eating??

Jason: You-why are you coming from the right side bathroom-weren’t you going to use the upstairs one on the left?

Tim: oh. Dick was already in it so I decided to use the other one.

Jason: what.

Tim: what.

Jason: No. Hahahahaha. You’re joking…nononono-god, Tim, WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?

Tim: ????????

Jason: You-

Dick’s voice thundering from a floor away: JASON!!!!

Jason: *staring blankly then running forward and smacking Tim on the head* It’s all your fault!

Tim who hasn’t slept or had coffee or know why something he doesn’t know about is his fault: ???? WHAT DID I DO?!

Jason: *running past and leaping out the window* See you later, losers. Bye, Alf.

Disappearing seconds before a blur of wet skin, white towel, and neon pink hair rushes past and follows him out the window.

Tim:

Bruce:

Tim: ……Did you have breakfast yet?

Bruce: …….Hrmgh.

Alfred: *tutting* I just had the floors done. Master Bruce, would you mind redoing them? I’m afraid I must catch the mailman before he gives treats to Titus again. He’s leaving crumbs all over the entrance.

Bruce: What about Ti-

Bruce: *glancing back to see a lone leaf float in and drop slowly to the ground*

Bruce: ………

[bleeedingheart]

i was like Okay i'm just gonna do a quick doodle of Maddie before bed. hour and a half later . whoops !

[readthephible]

can we talk about this. please

[puppyeared]

Once upon a time

[lynzishell]

They are everything to me

[mettywiththenotes]

Realizing that the fist bump wasn't just a shounen-classic of symbolic acknowledgement between two enemies but also an alternative to holding hands because they tried that, couldn't do it and Izuku's arms decayed

If you look back at the pages in 423, the vestiges are clearly already coming at AFO with their fists closed, ready to punch, while Tomura comes straight out of the gate with an open-handed attack to kill AFO

At the point of contact, we don't know whether his hand is closed or open, but in the next moment, we see it is closed and pressed against Izuku's, meaning that they met in the middle once AFO disappeared

Which could mean 1) Tomura switched to a fist as he hit AFO so he could just fall back on the fistbump or 2) he switched from an open-handed attack to a loose fist within seconds of killing AFO so he didn't decay Izuku again

Either way, I believe this means that no matter what the action was, Tomura did not want to decay Izuku again. Actually, there is a great chance that he chose a fist because it was one of the only ways in that moment where they could make a physical connection and he wouldn't have to bring Izuku down with them

I need you to understand how amazing it is that Tomura actively CHOSE to bring AFO down with him as soon as he could and, at the same time, within seconds, prevent Izuku from dying while still reaching out in his own way so he could make that physical connection again for the last time

From this (Izuku to Tenko)

To this (Tomura to Izuku)

And this along with his last words? Smiling at Izuku and telling him to do his best? Believing he himself had no future but pretty much leaving the future to Izuku?? "It depends on what you do from now on"??? Literally what the hell Horikoshi

[curioscurio]

not to be a freak but I think when Trump loses he will either kill himself or Putin will let loose the real assasins. it's just the smart move like he knows too much and he's losing all the power he used to have lol. like if I were putin I'd be worried about what kind of information a desperate man like Trump is willing to surrender once he's caught 👀

[foldingfittedsheets]

Will your beloved grant another gift for Birthday-eve?

Noooooo. The plan for my birthday tomorrow is: breakfast, presents, spa, massages, and then flopping.

[hballegro]

ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH DEAR FRIENDS, ONCE MORE

prequel

i still have to do BJ's neck [jaw is finished, neck is not. Hawk's neck is tho], and finish the mustache, plus some fine touching to make everything Perfect [bjs forehead, hawk's lips, etc] but. other than that i am DONE with these old heads. fabric is so much easier than faces so im not even stressin abt it. my wrist. it aches.

im FREE no more HAIR except BLURRY STUFF SO NOT LOTS OF DEFINITION

bonus; the end of the journey

[cinematicnomad]

ughhhh i'm about to head to the airport for the first of THREE flights to get back home. i was on a later flight originally but i switched to an earlier one bc i was worried my layover in beijing would be too tight but now i have an extra long layover bc there just weren't any better options. this means from the point i leave my hotel to when i, probably, arrive back at my apartment i will have been traveling...~36ish hours? kill me!!

[fereldanwench]

how do you want me?

⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

[evilkitten3]

one (understandably) underappreciated thing about madara is that he's one of the oldest characters in the series,,,, yet even when he's literally a wrinkly old caveman on life support he never switches from using ore to using washi.

almost every other old man character uses washi, and even some of the ones that barely qualify as middle-aged (mr raikage sir you are 47???? hashirama and tobirama are even worse; you cannot tell me either of them made it past 35)

meanwhile madara's all "whatever i'm gonna get revived anyway i don't have to change shit"

[lady-raziel]

It wouldn’t be a good thing and would certainly throw a catastrophic wrench in everything but the next 12-15 hours would be the absolute funniest time for Joe Biden to go on tv and say “actually I’m a Trump supporter now, after hearing about all this for so long I’ve come around to it and think I’m voting MAGA 😎”