#we've had it every years for decades guys you're so late

[crazykuroneko]

call me heartless, but seeing all those videos of NYC getting flooded, the only thing that came up in my mind is: (finally) WELCOME TO THE CLUB! 🫂

[vincentbriggs]

Good sir, I am hoping to pick your brain. I’m making an 18-century (“pirate”) shirt as a gift to my friend. He wants tie closures on the neck and cuffs instead of buttons. Might you have any insight or resources for this? I’ve seen the ties in at least one of the extant shirts I’ve viewed online. I’m still pretty new to the sewing gig and I’d like to minimize inventing metaphorical wheel as much as possible. Thanks in advance!

It's very unusual, but do know of one example! (Not that extant one though)

But first - Link to my most thorough shirt construction blog post. (It's a few years old and I've improved a few little things in my technique since then, and I mean to finish writing a new and better one before the year is over.)

Ok, ties on shirts! I'm assuming this is the extant one you're talking about? Tbh I'd discount this one entirely if you're looking for information on 18th century men's shirts because I don't think it is one.

Besides the attached ties, the sleeves are extremely weird. They're cut off and have no wristbands!! This would make it quite impossible to wear under a coat, the wristbands are an absolutely essential part of an 18th century shirt. I also don't see any reason to believe this is actually 18th century when it could just as easily be 19th century, and considering how short the slit is I think that more likely.

(Lots of auction sellers like to say "late 18th century" about things that are like... yeahh maaaaybe that's plausibly from a very fashion forward guy in the late 1790's but it's much more likely early 19th century. And with court dress they sometimes just straight up date it several decades too early. Look at lots of examples and always question everything, because museums don't always date things correctly either.)

I think I remember seeing someone mention once that it was a 19th century workman's garment of some sort, but I can't remember where, and all we've got to go on are a few pictures and a brief caption from a seller who doesn't know what they're talking about. It does look like it could have been worn over another layer though, and the fabric is very coarse. It could also have been altered at a later date for theatrical costume, which is something the Victorians did to A LOT of 18th century garments.

So just ignore that shirt!

The vast majority of 18th century mens shirts close with 2 or 3 buttons on the collar, but there is a style that uses ribbons. It appears to have been fairly common in the late 17th and early 18th century, and then slowly dwindles as the century goes on. I have a section for it on my shirts pinterest board with 64 examples. Ooh, wait, 65, just found a new one.

The collar is made with little to no overlap and one buttonhole on each end, and a ribbon is threaded through them.

Portrait of Carl Gustaf Tessin, 1728.

Sir Charles Howard, 1738.

I actually made one of these last year!

The collar doesn't sit as well with the ribbon as it does with 2 buttons, but once you put a stock over it it's fine.

Nearly every single depiction of an 18th century shirt I've ever seen (and I've spent a LOT of time looking) uses sleeve links on the wristbands. (Which I have a tutorial for! They're really easy to make!) I do sleeve links on most of my everyday shirts because I like them better than sewn on buttons. When the wristband is this narrow, sewn on buttons don't sit very nicely.

But! If your friend wants ties on the wrist in a historical way, I do know of one single example, and it's this guy!

Giovanni Maria delle Piane, Portrait of a nobleman. No date given, but if I had to guess I'd say 1680's or 90's. Very late 17th century looking fellow.

We can't see his collar closure, but I think it's very possible that he has a matching red ribbon holding that closed.

Personally I wouldn't want to try these, because they look like an absolute nightmare to tie by yourself one handed. But the good news is that you could make just regular wristband that take sleeve links and they'd work for this too, since both just have a buttonhole at each end! I aim for a finished wristband length that's 10-14mm longer than my wrist measurement, with the buttonhole being about 4 or 5mm in from the edge, which gives me enough ease to wear them comfortably with sleeve links, so if you do that then he'll be able to wear them both ways.

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

you KNOW i'm coming back in with the DMC crew for the bingo card!

hey hello finally answering this a mere two weeks late lmao

DANTE

okay so wayyyy back in the day when I first got into DMC I was admittedly far more interested in Vergil (look it was the mid-2000s and he was a cold-hearted bad boy, what do you want me to say) BUT over the years my Dante appreciation has grown exponentially

I am sobbing wailing screaming etc. I just want him to be happy. I want him to acknowledge his found family. I want Nero to drag him to Fortuna for a family dinner and have Kyrie make him eat a real meal. I want Dante to take Nero back to Redgrave to visit Eva's grave and tell him about both Eva and Sparda - the people, the parents, not the legend and his sweet wife

(I have. a lot. of Eva feelings. we'll get to that later.)

VERGIL

BINGO. God I just I can't I can't sum up my Vergil feelings just like Vergil cannot acknowledge his own feelings because his entire life had been so wrapped up in the scant hard cold comfort of unbending pride because if you don't admit you're hurting, that's almost as good as not hurting in the first place, and he's a DEMON okay, he's a DEMON, a DEVIL, not some weak flimsy human!!!! A DEMON!!! He's a big tough strong cunning evil powerful monster!!!!

Vergil is an open wound that has been festering for decades, a body and soul stretched literally to breaking point by cruelties beyond imagining. He's been a slave, a torture victim, his mind and decisions taken from him to be a meat puppet for his father's greatest enemy, cursed by the blood of Sparda so fully and thoroughly that the only way he can deal with it is to pretend it's the human in him that's cursed. Because he can never pretend he isn't part-devil, but maybe he can quash the humanity in him and pretend he's all devil.

How far is Vergil responsible and/or culpable for his crimes? What are his crimes? How many (if any) died when he raised Temen-ni-Gru? Were those deaths forgivable in pursuit of a greater good, or was it entirely selfish? Did Vergil feel the weight of Sparda's unfulfilled promise fall on his shoulders and this way the only way he could avoid buckling under the expectations of his bloodline?

And what about the Qliopoth? Did he cause it to sprout in Redgrave, or did he just take advantage of it? Can Vergil the person be held responsible for what his demonic half did after the separation? If so, is that balanced out by the heroic actions of V as his humanity?

I just!!!!!! god. I love him so much. I want to wrap him in the softest blanket and kiss his forehead like the world's angriest little kitten. I want to send him to therapy so badly. I want him to come back for DMC 6 on the good guys team but wearing a Bad Man shirt.

(come on I can't be the only one who sees the resemblance)

EVA

"but beth, eva was only in the game for like five seconds before she got ganked--"

shhh. shhhhhhhh. that's the only part of DMC 5 that will never be canon in my heart.

okay so many many moons ago I read an amazing Eva origin story called Rapture on ff.net and forever after it informed my headcanons about Eva - to whit, she was a devil hunter, had overcome tragedy in her past, and was every bit fierce and furious enough to go toe-to-toe with the Devil Knight Sparda

so you will never get me to believe that Eva did not go down all guns blazing, fighting to the last drop of blood in her veins and the last gasp of breath in her lungs to protect her boys

even if you don't subscribe to that theory, you can't get away from the fact that Eva must have been a truly spectacular individual to attract Sparda's attention - especially since we've never had any indication that Sparda had any other lovers, or at least never had any children with them - and I just can't make myself believe it was all down to ~sweetness~ or ~purity~ or ~beauty~

my Eva grew up in rural Appalachia; grew up hunting, shooting, riding, and idolising her older brother in all of his dyed-black-hair, poetry-loving, stick-and-poke tattooed, skinny goth glory

(because, after all, it only makes sense that Vergil's humanity drew upon his human roots for form and face and so many other things that Vergil never really let himself acknowledge)

and life is good, right up until the day demons attack their homestead and Eva is the only one who gets out alive -- because her beloved older brother throws her on a horse and stays behind to shoot down the horde until he goes down

I don't wanna just stuff ten thousand words about my hc Eva backstory into this meme lmao but suffice to say she's tough as nails, a tightly-coiled spring trap of badly-suppressed trauma, conflating isolationism with strength and guilt with duty. When asked why she takes up devil hunting, she will only say -- if not me, then who? When she first hears of Sparda, she thinks he's a fairytale; then, later, she's willing to believe he was once real, but has long since faded into history... and, anyway, shouldn't it be down to humans to protect themselves rather than always relying on the benediction, the protection, of a higher power?

because Eva's family were good, stern Methodist folk, and God didn't stop the demons coming. Sparda? Eva has no faith in Sparda.

and when she relocates to Redgrave City and figures out there's a powerful demon stalking the streets of the city?

she'll damn well take care of it herself-

[evermetnotforgotten]

Set in the far future.

In many ways, Graham's relationship with his parents was quite simple. Firstly, be kicked out at sixteen because you were a delinquent little shithead who was well on the path to either being shot up on a street corner, or thrown in prison for being the one doing the shooting. Spend twenty-odd years in the wind. Then call dear old mum and dad up on a whim one day asking whether they're free for a coffee and a slice of cake—their choice, your shout.

They’d picked the key lime pie.

Most of their questions, surprisingly, had been in line with that of a normal suburban family. Less about his decades-long absence—the lie about getting out and into a job driving diplomats around seemed to inspire the desired amount of polite disinterest—and much, much more about ‘wait, you're telling us our long lost son is now married to a man?’ In their first few reconnecting dinners Graham had already located and defused the bomb of ‘we'd actually hoped and dreamed of our only son telling us he was only a gay teen instead of in a teenage gang,’ and done similar to the IED of ‘good thing we've changed churches since you were little or blessed Father Derrick would have simply had a stroke between the pews’—along with the total landmine, dear Lord in heaven the nuclear fucking blast of ‘but so… if you're married, doesn't that mean you're Gay now?’

But they were willing, and forthcoming. And surprisingly relaxed about his sudden reappearance in their lives.

All that had been left was for them to finally meet him—his sweet and kind husband, the infamous Lev. Which, apparently, called for dinner at Pete and Cressida's spacious suburban home.

"Topoff, my boy?" A question from Pete to Lev that Graham only moderately tenses up at, for more than one reason. Would rather not have to explain them all.

"Do you have any more of that sparkling, actually?"

"For you? Course we do. Would you pass the apple juice, hun?”

The first impression had nearly ended in disaster. Trust his old man and lady to blow through his first two cardinal requests immediately—he'd been firm to the point of militant on the topic of touching Lev without asking first, then witnessed in horror as his mother completely lost her mind and initiated a crushing hug. Then was the wine, though on that Lev had reassured they were in the green. Couldn’t drink on the meds anyway.

Now, outside overlooking the garden, wooden bannister flickering with light from the ceramic potted citronella candles, the wine flowing and barbecue cooling… things were actually starting to feel good. Calm. He's not checking his watch every minute, and his husband seems to be at relative ease while keeping deft pace with the conversation. Lev presses the kitchen knife down past the crust of the chocolate tart he’d insisted on bringing, listening to Cressida explain of the accreditation process of an arts therapist.

As the conversation dwindles, his mother twists her blond hair at the back of her head and spears it with a pin. The look brewing on her face is one of an imminent interrogation, but Graham recognises it far too late to cut her off at the pass.

"So you're… gay, Lev? Is that right, is that what you prefer?"

"Ma," Graham scowls, warning low and short. 

Just as Cressida's eyes flash with equal challenge, gearing up to meet her son’s protest with one of her own, Lev responds with an easy smile, a raised hand. "It's okay—I'm actually bisexual."

"Oh! So you're the same then. That must keep things simple."

Peter, whose cheeks are drawing closer to the tint of his chequered shirt with each fresh glass of wine, chimes in. "So you've been with both. Women, men… lucky guy, lucky guy…"

“Christ. Dad…”

"Yes, that is what the ‘bi’ part means, Pete. Oh, I know the loveliest lesbian couple whose daughter is a bisexual. Can you imagine that? All that diversity under the one roof."

Though Graham wants so, so badly to cup his hands over his face and screech into the miniature void there forever, Lev’s chime of a laugh rings above the abject horror roiling in his gut. “We do tend to flock, I’ll give you that.”

Seeming impressed with the response, Peter reaches for the bottle on the table and sets about refilling glasses again, even though most are still half-full. Graham reaches across to steady his mother's glass as the red comes dangerously close to sloshing up and over the other side. One of two teeny little dogs—rat-sized morsels that Daisy would have eaten for breakfast and barfed up before lunch—scurries around to their side of the table, interpreting the sudden movement as a potential signal of pending table scraps.

"Well," Peter says, "our son must have done at least one thing right in his life to have won you over. It's all a downright comfort, if you ask us. Isn't it, honey?"

He doesn't know quite why that's the part, out of everything, that gets him. Something slimy and misshapen rears its head within Graham’s chest, writhing through the holes of his ribcage where it's installed itself into the gaps and expanded like some sort of horrible, living caulk. He's done fuck all to deserve a man as good as Lev, right hand to God. Still feels as though he's long-conning him into staying, most days. But when his partner responds by taking Graham's hand under the table, giving a reassuring squeeze, the dial of all that noise is turned down low. The domesticity just a little less cloying.

"I feel lucky to have him, actually." A wink only meant for him. “He’s put up with me so far.”

"Ha! Just wait until you've been together forty years and he's still leaving dishes by the sink—"

"Or when it becomes impossible to go to on a fifteen minute shopping trip that doesn't turn into a forty-five minute catch-up with a playgroup friend—"

"I'm really glad that you two haven't changed. Just so glad.” Though Graham says it in exasperation, the fondness is hard to ignore. He brings his husband’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

"So Lev, Graham tells us you're working on a coffee table, is that right?"

-

“So… verdict?” He’s almost scared to ask, but needs to know his partner is okay after… all that. 

"They're nice! Really nice.”

“But…?”

A sigh from the passenger seat. “But it was… difficult. I guess."

Graham winces, blows air out through his cheeks. Should have known it would always be a little bit trial-by-fire. "Yeah, sorry. Thought they'd gotten all of the, uh, sexuality talk out of their system. Apparently not.”

Lev turns, giving him a curious look. "Oh, no, not that part. That was fine. Though I'm really glad they didn't want more details than they did," and a laugh tinged with the specific kind of glee of knowing exactly how terribly that could have gone. "I just… it's hard when I don't like how they treated you."

Graham frowns. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in the course of the evening. "What do you mean?"

"Throwing your sixteen year old kid out of the house when he's clearly in it deep, and cutting off all contact." Lev shakes his head, looking out the windscreen at the blur of pines whizzing past. “Your dad said they were praying for you to come back… but how would they have known if you’d needed to?”

Graham hears his old man’s farewell of the night. Don’t be a stranger, hey kiddo? We’ve missed you. “I… used to rob 7-Elevens with that crew. In gorilla masks.”

Not a beat missed. “We’ve all been sixteen.”

Spotting a tiny smile out of the corner of his eye at his own bark of a laugh, Graham reaches over the handbrake to place his hand on Lev’s thigh. As always, it’s covered by a smaller, warmer one.

Now just as ever, Graham feels like he could be in awe of the indestructible core of his partner until the day that he dies. Though Lev would be the first to deny and the last to admit it, there's a grain of diamond at the very centre of him. 

Behind a fortress or surrounded by ash and rubble—it's still beautiful. Still incredible.

“I’d still… like to stay in touch with them.” Graham clears his throat. “If that’s alright. You wouldn’t have to come, though, if you don't want to.”

“Ah, wasn’t at all saying that we shouldn’t.” A gentle apology squeeze. “Would really love to go to that gallery.”

“Doesn’t have to be any time soon.”

“‘Course. But I want to. Let’s do it.”

[wrestlingisfake]

Starting to see the discourse on whether Sting should have lost his retirement match.

I know the whole idea is that you're supposed to pass the torch on your way out. But that concept comes from a time when nobody would have imagined a man headlining big show three weeks before his 65th birthday. Realistically, the time for Sting to do the honors and give the rub to the next generation was ten years ago, when he still had something left to give. And he did that--on his way out of TNA, he put over Nick Aldis and EC3, and then in WWE he put over Triple H and Seth Rollins. His career was supposed to be done at that point--everything since then has just been a victory lap.

Look at the end of Undertaker's career. He went out in 2020 on a win, and the last decade of his run saw very few defeats. But in 2010, his final year as a full-time(-ish) guy, he put over Kane repeatedly, and his 2014 loss to Brock Lesnar was at the tail end of when "beating the Undertaker" really meant anything. Same thing with Hulk Hogan--I think he only lost one match (to Sting in 2011) after 2003, but by that point he was just a goofy old man doing a nostalgia act. It's hard to say he didn't "do the honors," though, when you look at the key losses he took in 2002--which is probably the last time he was truly relevant.

It might be nice if every pro wrestler finished up like Jushin Thunder Liger did--you're 54 years old, you can still go, but you can't keep up with the next generation, so you announce a retirement tour and end it by losing a good match to a key guy. But in the West, there's too much money in propping up the old guys until they literally can't walk. So you're going to keep seeing big names pass the torch in their late 40s/early 50s and then circle back for a "nobody's paying to see me job" farewell tour. We've already seen Steve Austin start do to it, and it's only a matter of time before the Rock, Adam Copeland, and John Cena go through the same pattern.

Is this good or bad for wrestling? We'll see. But anybody old-school enough to complain that Sting should have lost his final match would have already been complaining since 2020 that AEW is "killing the business" by letting top young stars sell Sting's offense. You're not going to convince me that any of those guys would be appeased if Sting put over the tag team that turned "killing the business" into a catchphrase.

[daryfromthefuture]

“Safety” for Mixed Bag One-Word Prompts!

thank you for the request! as per your wish, i shall do doc (and some marty) for this one :)

"Another day, another downpour." Emmett commented as he adjusted his goggles and took another look at the repair instructions his older self had left him in the mine. The schematics appeared more complicated on the paper than they actually were. Or maybe he simply perceived it that way - those drawings did come from himself, after all.

Marty, who was sitting on the workbench, sighed as he watched the raindrops race each other down the little window. "Yeah. It's getting boring, watching the gray sky every day."

Doc lay aside his screwdriver and wiped some sweat and dirt from his brow. All this mechanical work, though easy, still was a bit of a challenge - Emmett was more of a theoretical guy; he loved to think about science and sketch plans and schemes. God knows how many unused blueprints he had piling up in his drawers.

Well, he'd have to construct the DeLorean in the next 30 years anyway. Might as well prepare himself.

"At least the work isn't all too difficult," Doc said with a smile, taking a proper look at Marty now that he could afford to take a break from building the contraption that was meant to replace the fried time circuits.

Marty just gave him a thumbs-up. "You're the doc, Doc."

The scientist had to laugh. "I guess I am, huh?"

He cleaned his oily hands with his lab coat and sat down next to the boy. The duo stared into the distance for a moment, the roar of the thunder outiside well audible due to the brief silence.

"Are you hungry? I apologize, I got so caught up in fixing the car that I forgot about lunch," Doc asked, beraking the quietness.

But Marty shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. I'm not hungry. Can't say that about Copernicus, though." A small grin appeared on Marty's face as the mention of Copernicus' name caused the dog to whine from the other end of the room.

"Oh, thank you for reminding me." Doc got up and went to a shelf where he stored some dog food - in case he didn't have the time to go up to the house and feed his pet during his work. He opened a can and poured it into the small dog bowl right beneath the shelf. Copernicus wasted no second in throwing himself at the food.

Emmett smiled. "For such a small dog, you sure are hungry." He pat his dog on the back before making his way to Marty, who was now once again staring outside, his head in his hands.

"You had quite a bit going on lately, haven't you?", Emmett asked with sympathy in his voice. He had have no idea that he had the ability to be this gentle with someone, let alone a frightened child.

He had always seen himself as rather unable to comfort others.

But with Marty, it seemed to work just fine.

"Yeah, it's- I won't get into the details, but some shit happened and- well, you're stuck in 1885 now - as you know," Marty said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Doc hesitantly raised a hand to place on Marty's shoulder. He gave it a friendly squeeze. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll get this sorted out. We'll get this sorted out."

Marty chuckled. "I don't have any doubt about that. I trust you."

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and a wind howled through a tilted window in the back of the lab.

"Whoop! I didn't know that was open!" The inventor hurried across the room and quickly shut the window.

Marty followed Doc with his eyes and relaxed a little. This all seemed very familiar to him. Sometimes, these moments even made him forget that he was in 1955. Doc was Doc, and this was Doc's lab - a place he knew was one where he'd never be harmed - in whatever decade.

Not even a minute later, Emmett was back at the teenager's side. His hand moved back to sit on Marty's shoulder, well aware that Marty appreciated the gesture.

"Alright, how about I make us some nice, warm tea, and then we can resume our work after we've taken a short break?", Doc suggested.

Marty took in the atmosphere. The cold November storm outside, from which the lab shielded him. Doc, always the guiding presence, caring about him even though he'd only known him for a week. Copernicus curled up on the floor, making a happy expression in his sleep.

In a way, this was home.

Marty looked up at Doc. "You know what? I'd like that."

[biblicallyaccuratepigeons]

Longpost that summarizes an old rant I saved a while back.

[context: i was watching a yt video released last June about pride and the issues with it (particularly that year) and had been thinking lately about the US school system. the following is an edited version of the comment i typed out, decided not to post because it was too long, and saved on a document to collect dust]

I think, if someone gets their personal validation from a tshirt or a series of colors, there must be some issue there other than "that the person isn't the same as everyone else."

An issue that I see a lot in the queer community, at least the younger part of it in (particularly northern) America, is that they're so busy putting on a show and "living their truth" that they've forgotten what it means to have to truly suffer for that truth (i.e. the mother crying in public and online because people moved the location of what she considered was her child's gender identity, which was most likely impermanent anyway, when just decades ago, and even still today, American children were sorely beaten and/or thrown out of the house for being queer in any way; just decades ago, the word "queer" was a hateful slur, and still today, there are people who are genuinely afraid of me just for being subtly queer). I think both wings, left and right, are keeping us like babies, doing everything they can to divert our attention from real issues, and keep us from maturing enough to see how wrong they are regarding these issues--and desperate people who don't know where else to turn, or how, are eating it up like the slop it is.

My thoughts always return to the US education system, and how much the media is allowed to overcome what little we're taught in the way of critical thinking and ethics. We're stuffed into a place we don't want to be, with adults who think it's their jobs to parent us however they like, teaching us things that don’t fit into a long enough timeframe or in ways that aren't flexible enough for everyone to learn, until either our 13 years are up or we quit. We're assured that we'll make nothing of our lives if we don't finish, and then when we do we're assured the same if we don't fork over thousands of dollars for some piece of paper no one looks at anyway and 2+ years of wasted time.

In what could possibly turn out to be 21 years of our lives (if we don't fail a year or two), we learn very little about actual life skills and critical, abstract thinking--unless we're already "gifted" enough to already be thinking critically and abstractly anyways. Those of us who have already figured that out then get bogged down with work, burn out early, and hate ourselves for an undetermined amount of time while our "less intelligent" friends (whom we know to be wonderful and equal) go to college, get married, have kids, and build careers. We know we could be better; it's what we've been told all our lives. That whispering shadow follows us around, saying things like, "It should've been you," "Why aren't you like that?" and "You're such a failure."

And for the kids who don't figure it out, well fuck them I guess, it just means more sheep who will follow every sentimental word the media says. Why bother teaching people who don't care to learn, even though the reason they don't care is because the adults didn't first? Conflict is good actually, division is good actually, arguing is good actually, war is good actually. Why? Because, uh, wait, nope, we're only allowed to teach that reason to the Gifted kids. Shoulda studied harder! Have some food stamps.

I know a lot of right-wing bigots compare the lives we live with the ones presented in George Orwell's book, 1984. That's why I always encourage people to read it for themselves. These guys might be overexaggerating some things, but, like everyone involved in this whole debate about what we're going to do next, they have a point. The manner in which the government is raising our children, the way kids often hate their loving parents for no reason other than "it's what I'm supposed to be doing at this age," or "because it's cool." Our hearts being directed by outside forces towards the wrong things, like patriotism or cheap Pride merch. The many who don't know better. The few who do being too exhausted or busied to do anything real about it.

The worst part for me is knowing that no matter how much I think about it, no matter how much I talk about it, I can't put a dent in the zeitgeist. And thinking and talking is all that I, a cherished Gifted kid, ever learned how to do, so what now? All the work ethic, all the valuing of human life and rights, mean nothing if I can’t do anything.

They teach the Gifted how to think, and the "normal" people learn how to do things on their own because they have no choice. 

If only I’d been born into an abusive home, I catch myself thinking. If only I’d never known how smart I am. Then, maybe, I would be able to do something. Maybe I’d have been able to make myself move on my own, proactively instead of reactively. Maybe I’d’ve taught myself taxes, and how to stay at a sucky job. Maybe I’d’ve proactively used a knife instead of my fingernails. Maybe I’d’ve stabbed instead of slashed. Maybe I’d’ve done heroin. Maybe I’d’ve walked into traffic. Maybe I’d’ve tied myself to a bag of heavy rocks and jumped into the river, to finally feel that cool, delicious, watery peace. Maybe I’d have a knife kink instead of a rope one. Blood instead of burn. Death instead of imprisonment. Yandere instead of tsundere. Hate instead of lust.

And I would be no better off than the normal kids.

[bluewhispersandabsinth]

still not a multi-fandom blog but I finished watching Good Omens 2 and I have thoughts and I want to ramble about them.

But since it's not the main theme of this blog, I don't plan to write GO fanfic again any time soon, and it's rambling about the ending, thus, spoilers, I put it under the cut.

I like that the ending of season 2 was in many ways an enhanced interaction of what happened in episode 3, season 1, including the "Come with me!" and "I forgive you." In a way, it was almost more dramatic given that Crowley didn't just want to go to one of their headquarters and stay involved with Earth and the humans together with his partner, but to elope to a different galaxy.

The speech wasn't that much different, just a bit more self-aware (important, sweet, but they still had similar conversations about "let's be on our side!" before many times, even in the BC times, and if compared, while a similar gist, it has slowly become more and more self-aware over time already, but never was full there before), it really just lacked the kiss and many of us suspected if it weren't for keeping the material a bit more mainstream appropriate when it was written, there would have been a kiss. I wonder actually if that's the reason why the scenes are so similar. To finally do what should have been done a long time before.

Anway, what I'm getting at -

"Let's do [radical thing] together!" - "No!" - "But...!" - "I forgive you." - One storms off (statistically, mostly Crowley) - one gets in trouble (statistically, mostly Aziraphale but then it's not gets but "gets") - dramatic reunion

seems to be a pattern throughout their friendship, including the emotional bond growing and escalating a bit further every time (yeah, it feels dramatic now, that we see it, but it's all happening and building up over 6000 years, sometimes with decades or centuries between "breakup" and reunion.)

I wonder if we'll get the full story of the 1793 prison scene. So far we've learned: Aziraphale knows that Crowely loves saving him and doesn't mind acting a little helpless/putting himself in danger and he did the "You're right, I am wrong dance" the same year. Combined with the smugness and "Oh, you!" from both sides, and Aziraphale's rather lame reasons why he ended up there and why he unfortunately, unfortunately can neither miracle nor charm himself out of jail? Yeah, that's a story that smells of a dramatic previous setup. Like a "breakup" over sides, for example.

I bet one wild fan theory that what looks extremely dramatic to us is the same song and dance they've been through countless times in 6k years and, if anyone remembers the manga and how it ended, we're steering toward a Ranma 1/2-esque resolution, maybe with more open and blunt handholding but all in all, nothing really changed aside from Crowley finally saying what Aziraphale already knew or at least expected (our angel guy doesn't seem very surprised by the confession and more pained by the timing and context than anything else).

All in all, ep6s2 feels more like the midpoint or late third of a whole season, especially if compared to the pacing and beats of the first season. And now, the second coming?

Sounds like the hint at a future conflict based on the same premise as the main arc of season 1, just from the other perspective (wouldn't be surprised if it included the concept of "The Rapture" in one form or the other, would be funny if Crowley turned out to be behind the belief in The Rapture but not to please Hell but to annoy Aziraphale with paperwork).

Anyway, it's good that things are how they're now. Aziraphale gets to step out of their routine and to experience one of his big "What ifs..." that he'd have wondered about until eternity if he hadn't been given the chance to be a proper angel in Heaven again.

And now, Crowley has to share Earth with Gabriel, Beelzebub, and Muriel, three immortal beings like him, with very different personalities from him and Aziraphale.

Choosing someone as your forever-person over others and lifechoices is only a true choice when you experience options.

If they end up together after another season and choose to stay together on Earth, independent from their backgrounds, it'll be because they truly choose to, and not brought together by proximity loneliness for being two of a kind.

I really hope that's an angle they'll go with in the future.

[laprincesaelena]

EOA Discord Server Ship Appreciation Week Day 2: Cooling Off

a/n: hi everyone! to all that left some feedback on day 1’s fic, thank you so much!! i’m so happy to know that people are enjoying my fics, i’m really excited to finally be sharing some with you guys! sorry today’s fic is a bit late, i of course put it off lol, and i intended to have a lot more time to write today, but i ended up having a lot less than i thought. but, regardless, i spent the rest of my night writing this so i could post this as close to on time as possible!

this fic is basically the beach day the four amigos deserved to have in the show, but of course, with some cute gabelena moments scattered in there :) fun fact, the beach they visit is inspired by my local beach, one that i also have many childhood memories of, and still visit every summer! not me projecting my childhood onto elena, what no 😗✌🏻

anyways, a couple quick notes! i chose the name moteada for the horse elena rides, since it was the closest spanish translation i could find to “spotted” (or spotty, as little me would say). if any spanish speakers know of a word that is closer to that (as in spotted in appearance), please let me know! also this could technically be a modern au?? not sure how much of what’s featured in this would exist in avalor, so interpret it as you’d like.

once again, another thank you to @procrastinateland for the absolutely adorable art to go along with the fic!! elena’s smile is just so cute, isn’t it? 🥺

okay, enough of my notes lol, on with the fic! hope you all enjoy! :)

After quite a few of their planned beach days had gotten rained out, Elena, Gabe, Mateo, and Naomi felt like they'd never get a fun and relaxing day together. But, one warm summer day, the sun would be bright and shining all day long, and the four amigos knew they had to take advantage of it.

The four of them met up at the palace that morning, and made sure they were all ready to go. After packing the carriage with all the necessities, they headed off to Avalor City's most popular beach, Playa de la Marea.

Elena smiled as they approached the beach, and took a deep breath, taking in the salty sea air. Playa de la Marea was a nostalgic location for her, as her and her family visited the beach each summer when she was a kid. Some of her happiest memories took place here, and she couldn't wait to create new memories here with her friends.

As the carriage drove them down the avenue, the four of them took in the sights. To their right, was the beautiful Playa de la Marea, which stretched down the coast for about five miles. A concrete wall lifted the road slightly above sea level, but beside it was plenty of space for walking along the ocean, as well as a couple of places to eat. To their left was a boardwalk of sorts, which included plenty of fun things to do. Restaurants, shops, an arcade, mini golf, carousel, ice cream shop, anything to add a bit more fun to a summer day.

The carriage pulled over for the four of them to step out and finally begin their day at the beach. Elena stepped out first, and took a look around. Things had certainly changed around here in the past four decades.

"Where's the amusement park?" Elena asked, as if it had somehow suddenly disappeared. "It used to be right behind those buildings!" she added, pointing over across the street.

"Amusement park?" Gabe asked as he began to unpack the back of the carriage. "What are you talking about?"

"Gabe, she missed out on like, half a century. Who knows what this place looked like when she was a kid?" Naomi said, leaning over the back of the carriage.

"She's right, there was one here. Parque de la Perfección was right where this boardwalk is today." Mateo explained. "My mamá used to visit as a child all the time, it closed about thirty years ago, so I'm sure Elena remembers it just as well. There's only one attraction from it left, maybe we could ride that today."

Elena's eyes lit up as she turned to the group. "Can we?" she asked.

"Uh, can we at least go to the beach first?" Naomi replied with a soft laugh. "We've only been waiting forever for a perfect day like this, let's go!"

With that, Naomi hopped out of the carriage, and each of the amigos grabbed a bag or two to carry down to the beach. After a few minutes of searching for the perfect spot, each of them laid down a blanket, as well as setting up a couple of chairs and an umbrella. Naomi stepped back for a moment, and made a frame with her fingers, before giving the group a thumbs up.

"Looks great, guys!" she said. "Now c'mon! The sea's a'waitin!" She was just about to run off towards the ocean, before a voice stopped her.

"Hang on!" Mateo said, and grabbed a bag from beside him. He emptied the contents of it onto one of their towels, and about all there was to see was every type of sunscreen imaginable.

“Looks like somebody came prepared!" Elena joked with a small laugh.

"My mother came prepared." Mateo responded. "She couldn't have her 'precious baby boy' come home with a sunburn, or any sort of tan, apparently.." he said, before placing the bag aside, having completely emptied it. "So, I've got lotion, spray, a stick, whatever you prefer!"

"I'll take the spray, thanks." Elena answered, and Mateo threw a can over to her.

"I should probably cover myself in this.." Mateo said, taking a bottle of the lotion equivalent. "I'd be afraid to see my mother's reaction if I came home with even the slightest bit of redness." he added with a slight laugh.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm heading into the water, I'll be fine." Naomi commented.

"But Naomi, you're the palest of all of us!" Mateo replied. "You'll be bright red!"

Naomi rolled her eyes, but smiled, knowing her friend was just looking out for her. "Alright, fine." she said. "Elena, hit me up with some of the spray."

Elena managed to spray on just enough to cover Naomi's body, before she was headed off to the water. She smiled and laughed a bit, before taking off her beach cover-up, and spraying some onto herself as well.

A moment later, the rest of the friends were ready to join Naomi in the water. The waves were just right that day, rough enough to play around in, but calm enough to simply enjoy the shallower end. The water was on the chillier side, but on a hot summer day like this one, it felt quite refreshing.

Elena took Gabe's hand in hers as they reached the water, he could barely keep up with her in that moment! Once the water came to about her waist, she dived right into a wave. A second later, her head popped up from under the water with a big smile, and Gabe couldn't help but smile as well. He loved seeing Elena in rare moments like this one, where she could truly sit back, relax, and let loose. After all she had been through and all she'd done for the kingdom so far, she very much deserved it.

Naomi was still multiple feet out from them, the water had to be much over her head. But being practically raised on a ship, the water was certainly her element. Once she noticed her friends, she waved to them, and began to swim a bit closer to the group.

"Water's perfect today, isn't it?" she asked them. "Got some decent sized waves to jump into as well! I'm not the only one who's always liked to do that, right?"

"Uh, absolutely not!" Elena replied. "I'm in!"

Gabe looked out onto the horizon, and noted the size of some of the waves. A few of them were a bit too rough for his liking, especially for someone like Elena, who was much shorter than he was. What if she got knocked under and never came back up? What if she lost her footing and got sucked into a current? There were too many possibilities of what could go wrong, and even though this was technically an off day for him, his protective royal guard side couldn't help but come out.

"Elena, I don't know.." he said, protectively wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What if one of them knocks you under and you don't come up? I can't let anything happen to you."

Elena rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, come on Gabe, loosen up a little! I'll be fine, I can swim. Besides, it's an off day for us all, let's just have some fun! You can join us, if you'd like." she offered.

Gabe sighed, he knew that he did have to learn to trust Elena on her own more often, she didn't need to be protected. "Alright, fine, I'll come too." he said. "How about you just don't go any further than you can reach, okay?"

Elena nodded, that was reasonable enough. "Will do!" she said, and took his hand in hers once more. "Now let's go!"

The next few minutes were spent jumping over the waves, diving into them, or even getting knocked down a few times! Elena just couldn't help but smile and laugh each time this happened, especially with Gabe rushing to fix his hair before the next wave came along to mess it up again.

When a break between waves came along, Elena wrapped her arms around Gabe's neck with a smile, and leaned up to kiss him. Gabe wrapped his arms around Elena's waist and pulled her in closer, kissing her right back. Elena couldn't picture a more perfect day, she just wanted this sweet little moment to last forever.

Naomi turned to say something to her best friend, only to see the couple wrapped up in this embrace. She rolled her eyes but laughed to herself, and jokingly called, "Get a room!"

When Naomi turned back towards the sea, she was faced with one of the biggest waves she had seen that day. She dived right into it, and found herself about six feet under the water. Once she reached the surface, the wave hadn't reached her friends yet, but it was pretty close to them. Of course, Gabe and Elena were oblivious to what was heading their way, so Naomi called out to warn them. When not even that broke the couple apart, Naomi knew they'd be finding out on their own soon enough.

Elena could've sworn she had heard a voice a moment earlier, but she didn't think it was directed towards her or Gabe. But, when she heard the roaring of a wave, she opened her eyes for a moment, and pulled away. When he felt Elena shift, Gabe pulled back and looked down at her, concerned. When he turned his head in the same direction as she did, the pair gasped. Before they could do much else, the two found themselves knocked under the water. For a few seconds, they were completely submerged, before they managed to find their footing and push back up to the surface.

Gabe just so happened to reach the surface first, so when Elena was no where to be found, he instinctively feared the worst. Just as he was about to dive back into the water, Elena reached the surface to catch her breath. Before Gabe could quickly wrap his arms around her to make sure she was okay, she started to laugh. Gabe couldn’t believe her, she had practically just drowned, how could she be laughing at a time like this? Unfortunately for Gabe, though, Elena's laugh was quite infectious. If she was laughing, she had to be okay. So, Gabe started to laugh a bit himself.

"I think that's enough ocean for us today." he said through his laughs.

"Maybe so!" Elena agreed with a laugh as well. "How about we head a bit closer to shore?"

"Now that sounds a bit safer, I'm not almost losing you to a wave again!" Gabe joked.

For the next couple of hours, the four amigos had a wonderful time at the beach. They spent plenty of time on the water, had a quick lunch on the shore, bathed in the sun (or under the umbrella, in Mateo's case), and just spent a bit of time talking to one another, about things that didn't have to do with their usual tasks. They were able to spend the day as just a regular group of friends, not a crown princess, royal wizard or guard, and grand councilwoman. The group began to pack up as it began to reach high tide, but their day wasn't over just yet.

The amigos left most of their things back in the carriage before heading across the street to the boardwalk. There was certainly plenty to do, it'd be practically impossible to do it all in one day! But, they decided on the arcade for their first stop, and something immediately caught Elena's eye as they walked in.

"Awww, how cute is this?" she asked the group, pointing up to a yellow and pink jaquin plush hanging on the wall, amongst other prizes to win. "It's just so soft and cuddly..I've got to take that thing home!"

Gabe was not going to let his girlfriend go home without this jaquin, he was determined that he was going to win it for her. It cost a decent amount of tickets, but if he timed it right, it was achievable.

Naomi had already headed over to an air hockey table, and was standing at the ready. "Alright, who wants to try and best me?" she asked. "You know, when I was eight, I beat my whole crew at an arcade in Corinthia."

Gabe raised an eyebrow at her, a spark of determination in his eye. "You're on, Miss Turner." he said.

Determined to bring Elena home a little jaquin, when Naomi won the first match 7-5, Gabe wasn't giving up that easily. Best two out of three soon turned into three out of five, and while Gabe did manage to win a game or two, Naomi came out as the victor, and with a good sum of tickets to show for it. Knowing he probably didn't stand a chance against her, he moved onto another game.

Meanwhile, Elena had been trying out a variety of different games, some she was pretty good at, others she could barely get through a round without getting frustrated at. As much as she really wanted the adorable jaquin plush, all she really wanted was to have fun with her friends. If she left the arcade with a tiny little prize, so be it. She then got herself dragged into a game of air hockey with Naomi, which grew just as competitive as her previous matches with Gabe.

After spending a good hour or two at the arcade, the amigos were in need of a change of scenery. Competition certainly got tiring after a while! But, before they moved on, they had to pick out their prizes! Gabe sighed as he received his final number of tickets, he was only twenty short of Elena's beloved jaquin. He didn't even want to think of her disappointed face when she learned of this. He looked around, was there anything else she might love just as much? But, before he could make a decision, he noticed Elena approaching him.

"Elena, I-" he began to say, ready to apologize for not being able to win her the jaquin. But before he could, Elena pulled something out from behind her back. It was a small plastic sword, similar to one a royal guard might carry, only on a smaller scale.

"This is for you!" she said, holding it out to him with a smile. "Now you can protect me for the rest of the day with this!" she joked.

Gabe couldn't help but smile and laugh, he certainly appreciated the thought. He looked over the sword as she passed it over to him, and then began to try out a couple of moves with it.

"Wow, I've got to say, this is better than my captain's sword back at the palace!" he joked. "I think we should replace our standard issue swords with these ones!"

Elena smiled and laughed as well as Gabe 'tried out' his new sword. "I agree, the ones we have now are just too big and bulky, don't you think?" she joked.

"Oh, absolutely." Gabe agreed with a laugh. "Or maybe, I'll pull this out at our next fencing practice, you won't be able to beat me then!"

"Unfortunately, these swords here are quite pricey, I only had enough tickets for one!" Elena replied. "Well, enough for one and a handful of candy." she added, showing him a couple of pieces of candy she had received as well.

The thought of tickets reminded Gabe of what Elena truly wanted, the jaquin plush. He knew that even though she was excited with her purchase for him, she'd definitely notice the jaquin on their way out, and she'd be so disappointed to be leaving without it. So, he knew he just had to be honest with her.

"Speaking of that, I tried to win you that jaquin, since I knew you really wanted it.." he explained. "But unfortunately, I came a few tickets short of being able to win it for you, I'm sorry."

Before Elena could tell Gabe that it was alright, she was cut off by a female voice.

"One adorable jaquin plush for my beloved princess!" Naomi said, jokingly bowing to Elena, with the prized pink and yellow jaquin in her arms.

Elena gasped with delight, and held the plushie tight once Naomi handed it over to her. It was even softer, and cuddlier, and more adorable in person! Her day was already great as it was, but this just made it that much better! She wrapped Naomi in a hug and thanked her, she was just so excited to have it.

Gabe couldn't help but sigh when he realized that he wasn't the one to win Elena the jaquin, but those feelings quickly faded when he saw how Elena's face just lit up at the sight of it. He tried his best to make this day great for her, but hey, she still got that jaquin! Besides, he knew how she smiled as she took in the sights of the beach, how she laughed as they were both knocked down by a wave, Elena was having a great day for herself no matter what, jaquin or not. And that's what mattered most.

Their next stop was the carousel, the final remaining attraction of Parque de la Perfección. Elena was also looking forward to this, since she had so many memories of riding this very carousel as a child. She remembered her parents mentioning how once they got her on, it was hard to get her off! She especially used to love when Isabel would ride on the horse beside her, and her father would stand between the two, closely watching to see which one of his daughters would ‘win the race’. Elena smiled remembering her parents, she did miss them very much. Though she missed those days, now she was here to make new memories with her best friends, and she couldn’t wait.

As the four of them stepped onto the ride, Elena immediately went searching for a very specific horse. She quickly walked through the rows and rows of them, until finally, she came across the one she was looking for.

“Moteada!” she exclaimed, and hopped onto a small black and white spotted horse.

“Mote-huh?” Naomi asked.

“Moteada!” Elena repeated. “This was the horse I rode on almost every single time I visited as a kid, she was my favorite for some reason! I called her Moteada due to her spots.” she explained.

“That’s cute, I’m glad you could ride her again today!” Naomi replied with a smile, before setting her sights on a large, chestnut brown horse in the same row. “I call the big one!” she called, hopping aboard it.

Elena laughed softly as Naomi grabbed onto the leather ‘reins’ on the horse, sitting up straight and tall. She jokingly waved around, as if she were the most important being on the biggest horse. Mateo was seated atop a grey horse beside Naomi, all four amigos seated right in the same row.

Of course, Gabe was going to be right next to his Elena, so he hopped onto a beige horse beside her. He smiled as Elena took her new jaquin friend and placed it right in front of her, as if they were going for a ride too.

When a bell sounded to signal that their ride was about to begin, Elena felt like she was a child again. It were almost as if she was back here for a beach day with her family, racing to sit atop Moteada before anyone else reached her, giggling with her sister as they each neared ‘the finish line’, and waving to her mother, it felt like nothing had changed.

Gabe knew they’d have to plan beach days like this more often, since this was the happiest he’d seen Elena in a while. Not that Elena wasn’t an overall happy person, you’d always come across her walking down the hall with a smile. But something about today was different, maybe due to the nostalgia this day brought her. Regardless, Gabe couldn’t get enough of seeing Elena’s beautiful face light up with a smile, he couldn’t help but smile as well glancing over at her.

When Elena turned her head to the side for a moment, she noticed Gabe smiling over at her. So, she reached over towards him and pulled him in for a kiss. She pulled back a moment later with a soft laugh, giving him a look of so much love. There wasn’t anyone else she’d rather be sharing these moments with, and she couldn’t wait to create many more memories just like this with him in the future.

A couple of minutes later, their ride was gradually slowing down. Once it had come to a complete stop, Elena’s horse just so happened to have stopped at the highest height possible. She looked down and laughed to herself, even though she was that many years older and that much taller than she was on her last ride, it was still quite a ways down for her!

“Well, this’ll be quite the fall!” she joked to herself, as she began to swing one leg over to hop down.

But, before she could let go of the pole, she felt a pair of hands around her waist, which lifted her up, and placed her softly onto the ground. Elena turned around to see that it was none other than Gabe who softened her landing. She smiled and pulled him in for a quick thank you kiss, before following Naomi and Mateo off of the ride.

To end their day, the four amigos sat along the sea wall with an ice cream, admiring the view as they enjoyed a refreshing treat. Gabe wrapped his arm around Elena and held her close, as she rested her head on his shoulder. Their conversation was filled with their favorite parts of the day, which would continue on as they walked back towards the carriage. Elena loved each aspect of their day, but she had to admit, what she loved the most was her adorable new jaquin plushie. Oh, and being able to spend a fun and relaxing day with her closest friends, and of course, her Gabe, was pretty nice too.

[animeraider]

I get a lot of flack from anti-vaxxers, anti-maskers, and other fuckwits about my words on the COVID-19 Pandemic and in particular the response to it in the US. I pull no punches about it, I believe firmly that the previous administration and ANYONE who enables them and their policies are complicit in the deaths of all of these people. They belong in prison.

I'm not going to fucking apologize for believing that. The fault for all of this belongs directly in the laps of the Republican Party. If you believe otherwise, you're WRONG. I can bring the receipts.

I've been pretty isolated during all of this. I went into lockdown on March 11, 2020 and I'm technically still there. I now work from home, and even though I've been fully vaccinated for two months now I still go out masked. I may never eat at a buffet again. Sorry Sizzler, but I've learned how to make your cheese bread.

I ripped a tendon in my left knee in May of 2020. I had to go to the hospital, but I was out in a few hours with crutches. I would joke with people that I'm now out of hinged joints to break.

But in July my cough returned with an attitude, and I picked up an infection. Not Covid, but it all made me pretty sick. So that you understand, I have what's called "Chronic Cough Syndrome". I've had it since I was 8. No one knows the cause or the cure. Believe me, we've looked. I just start coughing, and after a few months, I stop. It can be treated but I just have to live with it until someone comes up with something we haven't tried before.

Doctors have gotten into fistfights over whether or not I have Asthma. I don't, but sometimes Asthma medications work for a bit. To be honest, I've had this for so long that sometimes I don't even notice when I cough. It's just part of the wonder of being me.

I took the Pandemic seriously. I stayed home, I socially distanced, I got real familiar with teams, bluejeans, and zoom. I did a LOT of cooking. Started making bread. Watched the country fall apart at the seams and commented on it from my own little pocket of safety. I contributed a new song to a fund-raising effort for nurses. I did my part to stay safe, but my cough had other ideas.

Anyway, this time my coughing got pretty severe and I finally agreed to go to the hospital. As stated above, turns out I had picked up an infection. Combine that with my cough and I showed all of the symptoms of a severe case of COVID-19.

I'd been careful, but the hospital staff were all very cross with me. If I had COVID, I just exposed all of them, and the main nurse who tended to me had already been quarantined that same month for a different exposure. When the test came back negative the tension in the emergency ward calmed down immensely and everyone treated me kindly and professionally - I was a patient with something they knew what to do with and didn't bring plague into their house.

I spent 4 days in the hospital but the worst part, scariest part, was the wait to move from the Emergency Room to a private room. I came to the hospital in the late afternoon. I finally got my bed nearly 12 hours later, a good 8 hours after my test for COVID had come back negative.

I needed to be hospitalized, and needed a bed, and there weren't any. I had to wait for someone to either be discharged or to die.

I got my bed at 4 in the morning. Someone had died. Musical chairs was played and I was finally moved out of the Emergency Room.

It's really hard to understand how sobering that is without experiencing it. Many years ago, before we even knew about AIDS, I had the honor of donating blood and seeing it get used in a surgery mere minutes later. I became a regular blood donor at that moment - I felt so happy and alive that my blood had been used to save a life mere minutes after I had donated it (I'm O Negative) that I became a life-long believer. I donated every time I was eligible from that moment forward until a blood infection disqualified me from ever donating again 20 years later.

This was just the opposite. The guy with a cough and a treatable infection had to wait for someone on a ventilator to stop breathing. Someone with COVID died so that I could get a bed. They never knew this had happened, and I never learned who they were. Some random person died so that I could get better.

Try sleeping after that realization hits you. I couldn't. I barely slept the entire time I was there.

Despite the fact that I wasn't in the "COVID Ward" I got to see the effects first-hand. The newly disinfected bed and room I had was previously occupied by someone moved up to the Covid Ward. They in turn had moved up there after a ventilator was taken away from a patient who died. Staff rotated through different wards on different shifts. My first nurse was rotated into the Covid Ward. My next day nurse had just rotated out. I have never in my life seen a group of people look so haunted by their day to day lives.

A well-liked member of their staff was on a ventilator. So was a priest who worked in the hospital. I had never seen in person a "Code Blue". There were six of them my first day. There is also a "Code Black". It's much worse.

My wife and daughters weren't allowed to visit me. When your daily soundtrack is nothing but medical staff talking about the good and the bad, terrible television and the moaning/screaming of your new neighbors getting that visit from family is a huge stress relief. It wasn't available this time. I didn't see my family again until I was discharged. There was no outside world.

I admit that being in hospital during all of this, even though I myself didn't have COVID, shook me. When you're in hospital mostly what you deal with is yourself and your own condition, and getting the hell out of there as soon as you can. This time I was not only aware of the people around me, their conditions, their suffering and their recoveries, but I was also aware that a whole section of the building was dedicated to people who were going to die, and that the people who were treating me were also treating them.

This was as close as I got to the Pandemic. When I got home I fucking STAYED THERE. I went to the grocery store and the pharmacy and that was it. That was life for MONTHS.

Our grocery store was fantastic - they enforced social distancing and masks with gusto. They cleaned EVERYTHING. It had been a 24 hour store but converted to shorter hours so that the down time could be spent cleaning. Aisles were made one-way.

The first time I saw someone in the parking lot without a mask I have to admit that I lost it. I screamed at them (a white couple about my age), "PUT YOUR FUCKING MASKS ON YOU FUCKING MORONS!" Understand, I'm a fairly large man with a deep voice and have been a professional singer for decades and have played sax even longer. I'm loud and imposing. Everyone within 50 feet turned and stared at the couple. Okay, me first then the couple.

It's possible they didn't speak English. They exchanged a few words in Russian to each other and then masked up.

I've been known to let my temper show. I try not to because I know it's there and I know it's terrible. I've worked for decades to keep it in check and I just let it all out, screaming at a couple of rando Karens 20 feet away from anyone else who hadn't put their masks on yet. I had to acknowledge that this affected me profoundly. I'm dealing with that.

I've lost friends to COVID. One of my neighbors spent almost 3 months on a ventilator and survived it. Some of my friends have lost family. It hurts. It all hurts. It has changed me.

Some of you have noticed that I've been pretty productive in 2021 in terms of music, after not releasing material for over a decade. This whole experience has changed me, changed my perspective. I was already an angry liberal but I'm far angrier and much more liberal now than I was. The album I worked on forever essentially no longer exists. The person I am now couldn't make that album. I am excising demons and allowing the new to come in and take its place.

And you know what, so far, I'm okay. I'm still here. I intend to stay. In fact, what I intend to be the first song from my next album in its own way deals with the fact that I don't understand depression - I've never experienced it.

But I have to admit that I'm grateful to have family and friends in my life who accept me as I am, who provide unconditional love and support and I hope I do for them. I have the occasional doubt that I'm as good a friend/family member as I can be. I can be an ass sometimes.

(A couple of my long-time friends have just done spit-takes. "Sometimes????")

Because the scariest thing about what we've all been through - what I've been through - is that we have changed so much that I'm not sure that the people who know me best would be my friends if they met me as the person I am now. I am changed.

And the odds are pretty good that you have too. This is something we're all going to need to deal with, or we're lost.

Please, don't be lost.

And because it still needs doing, because the pandemic is still going strong as ever among the anti-vaxxers, the science deniers and the Republicans, please support our nurses. Here's the album I'm on that is still to this day, long after falling off the charts, raising money for them:

[thelearnedwobbly]

America is an oligarchal empire and has been for more-or-less its entire existence. It was founded by rich white dudes for rich white dudes. America was never some, like, bastion of democracy and freedom, it just had better PR and branding than most other Empires. What's changed isn't how unjust and broken the system is, it's how much effort the ruling class exerts to hide that fact.

Like...you guys were founded as a colony of an Empire on the backs of genocide and broken treaties. Then the US became independent and you spent the next 200 years conquering an entire continent. The greatest success of "manifest destiny" is how thoroughly they managed to convince people born a hundred years after the borders solidified that they're not living in a conquered Empire, these are just the country's "natural borders".

And of course, you don't conquer and annex countries outright like previous empires. You install "friendly regimes" and "defensive garrisons". And then leave them there for decades. And pretend you didn't just absorb another territory for your Empire.

The most insidious thing about America is how they can annex a country and tell everyone that they "liberated" it, that the troops are only a "peacekeeping force" in case someone ELSE wanted to take advantage of the instability. And the world smiles and nods and some countries even help you because you control everything already. And then when another country with worse PR like Russia or China invades a neutral region, you call it imperialism and shriek like you have the moral high ground. You throw children in camps to die and then cry foul when other countries do the same. You tear them from their homes and families and cultures and put them in schools on stolen land to teach them to be "proper" Americans, and you're shocked when other empires crib your notes. You commit deliberate mass genocide on the largest scale in human history and then expect a pat on the back for being late to a war against a smaller, newer empire copying YOUR IDEAS(ideas you continue to utilise during this so-called "great crusade") that you half-assed your participation in anyway.

I'm not saying any of these other empires or genocides are okay, or moral, or just. Imperialism, genocide, and all their offshoots are crimes against the very fabric of humanity itself and ought to be stamped out by unyielding force at every turn, whenever we see them.

But this idea that America is--or ever was--a "free country", a haven for liberty and "justice", an anti-imperial, anti-colonialist bastion of "democracy"; America, a country built on the bones of native peoples and the backs of millions of enslaved Africans? It's not just disgustingly, utterly wrong, it's the most successful PR campaign in human history.

And we've been falling for it for centuries.

ah yes, I see tumblr is spreading the Very Woke Take™ that “americans can’t protest because the government is too violent” like it’s not the exact same shit or worse everywhere else