#went to the big farm upstate
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No because imagine you’re a 14 year old boy- with two friends around the same age- getting sent on life threatening missions by this guy for a few years consistently. This guy, despite being old enough to have an ancient kingdom and at least one country developed in his life AND has been remarked to have been notably hard to kill through traditional methods… was sending a gaggle of pre/early-pubescent teens to do things he absolutely could’ve done himself but also with relative ease.
THEN, this guy gets you literally hung by his evil shadow self with promises of beheading and instead of like. Giving you any say in the matter, just being quiet and letting three other people (who were probably going to let you go) decide, or even advocating for all of your releases, he asks the three other people to KILL ALL FOUR OF YOU???
To make matters WORSE he never even addresses it, much less apologizes. And like? If that was JUST his life on the line, okay whatever. But it’s you and your friends (young teenagers with their whole lives ahead of them) ALSO??? Gingerbrave is a better man than I am because if that was me I’d never forgive that hetero bitch. He wouldn’t even make it off Beast-Yeast, I’d doxx him to Dark Enchantress Cookie. I’m petty and that man would NOT survive the night.
Will elaborate later, but if I was Gingerbrave and Pure Vanilla said this he would be sleeping with the fishes INSTANTLY.
#listen I’m fine with PV I have nothing against him as a character but if that happened to me?#btw I was so tired when I posted this my ass was out here unironically saying ‘sleeping with the fishes’#I have more euphemisms if y’all want#6 feet in the grave#bereft of life#the crabs got to ‘em#got on the train downstairs#went to the big farm upstate#croaked#choking on mulch#pushing up daisies#rode into the sunset#took a rope by the wrong end#met the creator#crossed the bar#made the change#in a better place#kicked the bucket#one way trip to st. Albert’s#shuffled off the mortal coil#pure vanilla cookie#gingerbrave#crk spoilers#crk#cookie run kingdom#tw death#tw hanging#also he’s never given any canon indication of attraction to anyone besides women so like. don’t fight me on this#‼️
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I'm just being autistic right now but did you know that "leaving to get milk" and "leaving to get cigarettes" were actually both comments about the health and well-being of an abusive husband?
Cops wouldn't be able to prosecute an abuser, so they'd just leave and make a show of telling the wife they wouldn't come back. This was basically them going "you can do what you will, make it believable."
"He went to get milk" meant "he's dead and you'll never find the body."
"He went to get cigarettes" meant "he realized I was getting ready to kill him and decided to get the fuck out of dodge."
I did NOT know that, I had just thought that's what people said when the husband honest to god left and never came back
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as much as i'd like joe biden to be dead i feel like at this point assassinating him would be less of a radical political act and more of like putting a dog down
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11
Word Count- 3.8k
Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending
“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”
I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?
It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak.
Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.
Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket.
I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me.
“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.
“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.
I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”
Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.
“Really Stefana, I’m good.”
Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it.
I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”
Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be.
After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way.
“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered.
At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up. It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it.
“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.
“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time.
“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”
I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room.
“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”
“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment.
I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me.
“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me.
“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.
Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong.
We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”
I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”
Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”
I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”
Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”
“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”
This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”
I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”
Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions.
“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”
At the sound of footsteps, I stand up.
“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”
Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.
“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”
I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.
“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.
“Ya whatever, Demon.”
—
It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.
Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them.
“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else.
“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.
“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.
“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks.
Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it, he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life.
“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline.
Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.
I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”
They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”
I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”
“You knew?!’’
“What?”
“Excuse me?”
“Bro!”
They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”
“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”
“Y/N!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”
They think about this for a moment before nodding.
“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.
“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”
We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.
I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”
I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”
Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years.
Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention.
He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look.
“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.
“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?”
Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”
—
“There he is!”
I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution.
“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight.
After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.
Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.
“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon.
I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm.
“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear.
A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest.
“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.
I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.
“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”
Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort.
“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”
I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.
“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.
“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes.
Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human.
Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”
“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now.
“I’m helping him.”
I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.
“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder.
“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”
“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.
“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.
“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.
—-
Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”
“What? What is it,” Ric asks.
“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”
I shake my head in denial.
“Well, they have to.”
Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”
“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”
Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.
“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”
Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew.
I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open.
I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy.
“Y/N?”
I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers.
“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”
—
“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder.
Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy.
“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”
I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.”
The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”
I nod and thank him.
“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”
My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”
The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves.
Great who the hell is going to drive me home?
—
I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily.
At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.
“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.
“Is everything ok,” I question.
The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?
“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle.
“Please… what are you talking about?”
The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”
My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.
“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”
#klaus mikaelson#damon salvatore#thecwshows#elijah mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus x reader#the originals#athenamikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#author#tvd klaus#klaus mikealson x reader#kol mikaelson x daughter!reader#davina claire#damon salvatore imagine#elijah mikaelson imagine#stefan x elena#elijah mikaelson x reader#elena gilbert#thevampirediaries#the vampire diaries#writers of tumblr#caroline forbes#bonnie bennett#jeremy gilbert#alaric saltzman#rebekah mikaelson#x reader#reader#kol mikaelson icons
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i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:
pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)
Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.
He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).
Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.
After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve.
Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.
“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.
“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”
“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.
Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before.
Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.
“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.
“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”
Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”
“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”
“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”
“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”
“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.
And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.
“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.
“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”
Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.
He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–
“Holy shit.”
He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.
“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”
‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..
“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach.
Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.
“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.
His very well sculpted shoulders.
And arms.
And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..
Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”
“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”
Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.
He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.
When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.
The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.
Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.
“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.
Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.
“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.
Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”
Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.
“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”
“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.
Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”
“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”
Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”
“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.
They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.
He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.
He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.
“Eddie–”
“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.
He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.
“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”
Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.
“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”
“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.
Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“I think you do.”
“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”
“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”
“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.
Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.
He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.
“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back.
Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.
“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.
“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”
Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”
Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”
Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.
He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.
“I think that sounds amend—-”
Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.
“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.
“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”
Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”
“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”
“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”
“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.
Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.
“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.
He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”
“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”
“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.
“You think I’m hot?”
“Very.”
“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”
“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”
“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.
“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”
“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”
Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”
He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.
“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”
part 2/2 here | and on AO3!
definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#st#stranger things#steddie ficlet#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington having a crush on bon jovi is canon okay?#noelle writes
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i heard he went to a big farm upstate to run and play with all the other joe bidens
#i would have been ben affleck smoking meme to vote for that man again#and i am also extremely ben affleck smoking meme today. about this#us politics
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if there are 10,000 doggirls i am one of them. if there is 1 doggirl it is me. if there are 0 doggirls i went off to a big farm upstate
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Free Will is a Value Statement
When I was a kid, we had a dog. It didn’t go well.
This particular dog- one of several in my childhood, and the only time it went awry- loved us very much, and we loved him too. But when it came to strangers, he was very aggressive, and very dangerous, and not fully under our control. We’d have to lock him up when there were visitors to the house, and even then it was less ‘barking’ and more ‘baying of hounds’, and unlike some animals he didn’t suddenly turn nice when he was in the same room with them. And he was large, much too large for this to be safe. Things came to a head when my mom was taking him for a walk and he started threatening a small kid playing in their own yard, and she came back terrified that if he ever got out, somebody would be badly hurt.
I remember quite clearly the conversation where my parents told me we couldn’t keep him. They’d made the unfortunate choice to feed me cookies at the same time, to make the bad news go down easier; the net result is that there’s a specific brand of cookies that, to this day, I still can’t eat. They just turn to ashes in my mouth.
(The good news is that, against all odds, it seems the ‘farm upstate’ that they sent him to was actually real. They literally saved the receipts, so that when I got old enough to realize what that kind of story usually meant, they could give me proof that they hadn’t lied. He did live what I believe to be a happy life in what was, more or less, a wild animal sanctuary. Not all dangerous animals are so lucky, but sometimes, they are.)
The reason to dredge this up is to notice how unthinkable it was for any of us to call him ‘evil.’ Even when he was straining at the leash as hard as he could snarling and growling at a three year old, he wasn’t evil. ‘Dangerous’, yes. ‘Violent’, certainly. But not that, not ever.
And that’s how it works, right? We recoil at using the E-word for pets, young children, anyone that’s enough weaker than we are. Evil-as-an-adjective is for peers and superiors, things which present a genuine threat to us. You can watch this change for the natural world in real time- us moderns watch nature documentaries about predators avidly, and not as horror films, but our received culture still has ancient fairy tales about the ‘big bad wolf’ that date from before our conquest of Earth’s ecosystems. What a difference a little power makes! What was once a real and imminent fear, and a central figure in the atlas of evil, has withered away to a narrative archetype with no material referent, while the wolves themselves become objects of admiration and wonder, or a focus of conservation efforts, in direct proportion to our own sense of security against them.
And maybe you’re not the sort of person who thinks about evil much at all, which is honestly a pretty good strategy most of the time. It can often obstruct thinking more often than it clarifies. But even if you don’t, I’ll bet you still think about ‘justice’ a fair bit- and that follows the same rules, for about the same reasons. The punitive and remunerative kinds of justice, anyway. Was it some kind of punishment, to have that part of my family broken away when I was a child? Was my dog’s loss and confusion something he deserved? Of course not. It was just- disharmony, I suppose. We couldn’t find a way to put the world right, and so we suffered instead.
And yet when we reach a certain level of direct personal injury or threat of injury, especially by human causes- political enemies, alien people, angry mobs- then, almost without fail, we find ourselves reaching for this idea of justice. (And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?) Show me, anywhere in the world, where a person has in all sincerity called for justice- and I’ll show you someone who feels weak.
Now, I can point at sentences like ‘my dog was not evil,’ and it should be pretty clear that I’m making a value statement, rather than expressing mundane factual belief in the same mold as ‘grass is green.’ That is, I’m not disputing any mechanism of action, or trying to explain why events occurred as they did. I’m not giving you information you could use to prevent this from happening to you too, much as I hope you can. I’m telling you how I feel, about what I want, about who I am. I’m telling you about my grief.
Loosely speaking, you can imagine beliefs falling along a spectrum. Don’t take this typology too seriously, it’s just a useful distinction to make for present purposes. The first extreme of our spectrum is just the observational set of beliefs- the ‘sky is blue, grass is green’ category. These are especially good for making plans that work, since they model a system that we usually want to work with in some capacity. If you don’t want to fall off a cliff, it helps to have a good map. The second type is imperatives or value statements, beliefs about how to direct our efforts. ‘Murder is bad’ is a belief like any other, but instead of telling us how to accomplish a goal, it tells us what goals we ought to have and what ends we should work towards. (Moral realists will think of this second category as being a subset of the first; that’s perfectly reasonable but orthogonal to my point.). Both types of belief are absolutely necessary for acting in the world: the means and the end, if you like.
Here’s where I reveal my thesis: When, honestly, was the last time you used the concept of free will to make a plan?
“People have free will” sure feels like a factual belief, from the inside. It’s a description of who we are, right? Like saying we usually have two legs, like saying the Earth goes around the Sun? Only… it isn’t doing any of the things I do with factual beliefs. It doesn’t make predictions, it doesn’t expand my capacity to act on the world. If anything, ‘free will’ as a concept has a weird twisty negative definition (often something like ‘nonrandom indeterminacy’) that resists analysis of the reductive kind we usually use for this sort of thing.
And if we look at how it’s positioned in the grand constellations of human thought, it’s awkwardly conjoined with a lot of the other things I’ve been talking about here. Good, evil, justice. I use my belief in free will a lot when I’m talking about culpability or praiseworthiness, when I’m deciding what to act towards, when to cheer and when to boo.
I use it when I’m feeling weak.
Or, less personally, think about where ‘free will’ crops up in our court system. And it does, in more than a few guises. For example, altered states that compromise our volition are taken into account, and might even qualify as fully mitigating circumstances that tell the court not to punish the transgression. (“I was not negligent on that construction site, your honor, I’m a diabetic and I was having a blood sugar crash.”) In other cases, such as in murder charges, malice aforethought or planning the crime carefully might upgrade the sentence to be more harsh, whereas a crime ‘of passion’ might net fewer years in prison. (First-degree versus second-degree murder.) What all of these have in common, notably, is in assessments of culpability, relevant to the question of how strongly the community wants to punish or condemn the situation. But when it comes to the presentation of evidence, the chain of material observations that we use to establish confidence in the story of ‘what happened’, we invoke ‘motive’ instead- that is, we ask what benefits, inducements, insults, or other circumstances might have led the defendant to commit the act. “Your honor, the accused is ordained with free will and is capable of choice,” is, notably, not considered sufficient to establish motive- but “your honor, the defendant was listed in the victim’s will as a primary recipient, and they were seen to have a large argument two days before the murder,” very much is. Interesting discrepancy, no? When we ask whether we should condemn others or show mercy, we care deeply about the defendant’s capacity to exercise free choice. But when we ask material questions about what happened, trying to get a clear picture of the world as it is, we instead ask where the defendant is positioned in a causal web of material and social circumstances.
It’s hard, really hard, to reliably tell when our beliefs are about facts, describing things other than ourselves, and when they’re doing something else, paying rent in other ways. But I notice, when I was a little kid crying in the car, I never once asked whether any of this was my dog’s fault. It’s not that I didn’t know whether he had free will or not; it’s that it didn’t occur to me to ask. I asked if it was my fault, certainly. I’m sure my parents did too. But we never asked if it was his, whether he’d decided to be this way. That’s just not what ‘free will’ as a concept was for.
So, am I saying there’s “no such thing as free will” in the sense that I’m saying humans are fully deterministic and mechanistic? Nah, not really. To reiterate: I’m not saying that I have any confidence whatsoever that humans are deterministic, mechanical agents. I think there’s plenty of room for consciousness to complicate the story of causality in ways I can’t anticipate; there’s every chance that human brains aren’t just billiard balls bouncing around in a universe running on linear algebra or whatever. But I don’t think that ‘free will’ as currently discussed is in any sense an alternative to that model, either. What I’m trying to say is that ‘free will’ isn’t really a claim about what the world is like at all.
The opposite of a belief in free will isn’t ‘I assert humans are chemical robots governed by deterministic electrochemical reactions’. Instead, the opposite is ‘I am not angry at you for hurting me.’ Free will is a value statement.
Remember that ‘rate my dog’ parody account, and the central joke was that all the dogs got scores of like 12/10 or whatever? And the punchline to it all, when somebody tried to call them out on the uselessness of a rating system that always stayed maxed out: “They’re good dogs, Brent.” If I were at a high enough perch- strong enough, wise enough, safe enough- then that same optimism, I think, is the only part of my need for justice that would survive. True power doesn’t rank humans from best to worst, or spend time blaming us for outcomes that cause suffering to ourselves or to others. It doesn’t need to.
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Teen: “What happened to the big comfy chair?”
Me: “It died. People jumped on it too much.”
Teen: “Aww.”
Me: “Well, actually, it went to a farm upstate where chairs go to live out rich, comfortable lives being sat upon.”
teen laughs
Me: “You know, if we clear out that corner we could put a new comfy chair there, or a recliner. A recliner would mean we wouldn’t need an ottoman.”
Teen: “Comfy chair with ottoman.”
Me: “You know, that old comfy chair also had an ottoman.”
Teen: “What happened to it?”
Me: “It died. Actually, no, it went to a farm upstate where people could gently rest their feet on it.”
teen laughs louder. “Please stop! 😂”
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Tally hall didn't really break up, they went to a big farm upstate with lots of space to play with other bands
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If I was making a Christological heresy it would be that Jesus is fine. He’s fine! Really! He just went off with all the other god heads to a big farm upstate. Yup, and him and the rest of them have plenty of room to run around and preach.
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“I want to be a flower on a mountain pulling in the sun and the pain and the frustration and creating a meadow. And I want to be that meadow on a windy day, breathing and flowing in love."
12/30/23
I've been spending winter break at my dad's house, which is sitting on a lake in a little town upstate from where I usually live. When I was little, I always wanted a big backyard like the one he has here where I could get lost in my daydreams, do cartwheels, and have a dog in. Then, my dad got this house and I finally had all those possibilities at my disposal, yet I couldn't find anything to daydream about. I didn't even really like the idea of having a dog anymore. I mean, I couldn't even do a cartwheel without hurting my wrists! It's not my fault, I just grew up.
It's been a while since I've been up here and today, we went to a nearby farm to get a pig because my dad wanted to roast a pig for New Years (it was his idea not mine). When I got out of my car, the farm dogs immediately ran up to me, and I just felt how much I had become like my kid self again. I just wanted to keep petting them and wasn't even thinking about how dirty they might be (or about the dead pig to my left). The landlord showed me a pen of puppies afterwards and I really just wanted to adopt one. I was thinking that I wouldn't mind this life of being a farmer.
When we came back home, I spent an hour in the backyard just lying on the edge of the lake watching the lake's surface flow, the clouds move above and past me, and the winter wind give me chills. I felt the weight of nature's beauty like a cat purring on my chest. Then I got up and climbed trees and *tried* to do cartwheels. It hurt but I was whole.
Ever since I started meditating, being mindful, and consuming spiritual creators, I've started enjoying life in this way. I don't care how corny it may sound. A few months ago, I couldn't be in that backyard without feeling consumed by my intrusive thoughts. I needed to be constantly distracted because if I wasn't I would always be trying to predict what would happen next. Spirituality quite literally saved me from insanity.
Sooo... what does this have to do with that little paragraph in the beginning? Taking advantage of the present moment has given me a lot including the ability to enjoy things as simple as car rides down rural roads, where driving past meadows and farms fills me up with the peace I've been looking for for years. But it's also given me the chance to really feel emotions unconditionally. That means feeling the uncomfortable frustration when the moment isn't what you want it to be.
For years I've dealt with the intense desire to write but simultaneous writer's block. However, I managed to write that little paragraph above by just utilizing those frustrations in order to create something.
The present moment is the only moment that exists. Im learning to choose to make the most of it even if it's not peaceful or perfect.
So, in conclusion, if there's anything you want to do and you could be doing it right now, go do it. Do it the best that you can because that's all you can do.
Happy new years everybody!
+ Some pics of my time at my dad’s :)
#spiritualjourney#spirituality#spiritualgrowth#spiritual development#self growth#self development#writing#writers on tumblr#spiritual awakening#spiritual quotes#farmcore#country#countrycore#self improvement#diary entry#digital diary#dear diary
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I love how universal it is that cultures around the world all just kinda get that you die and the earth reclaims you so the place the dead are is under the ground, and some variation of that as a name or a concept pops up. Either because the world of the dead is called something synonymous with "underworld" or because the god of the dead is also the god of the underground, or the place you go when you die is just "down". But my favorite might be Chinese and Japanese having the word 地獄:"Ground + Prison."
Somehow some kind of 'world" or "realm" or "domain" feels appropriately abstract, and that kinda lines up with myths where you go on a certain kind of journey to get to where the dead are and back. But 地獄 just has this hilarious bluntness to it that I love. It's not that you're carried off to some mystical otherworld with all the quaint mythos of telling a kid their dog went to a farm upstate where it can run and play with all the other dogs... no it's just like,
You fucked up big time, now you gotta go to DIRT JAIL
It sounds like a real place but that place is just a hole in the ground.
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fic title: till the horses come home
i mean. this is giving post-canon jack went to santa fe vibes in the realest way.
i think in this world, he leaves when he’s about 20 - he’s been scraping by with his illustrator job, making ends meet, but he just needs to know what’s out there. he can’t take the city anymore.
(it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that davey, whom he’s been in an unspoken more-than-friends-but-won’t-say-i-love-you situationship with for years, is moving upstate to go to college on some prestigious scholarship he was selected for. no way.)
so jack goes, and he likes it, and they keep in touch at first, and the years steadily go on, and they sort of stop writing. he goes from a ranch hand to owning a little plot of his own, never quite settles down with anyone, but maybe takes in orphans in his own type of lodging house where they can work on the farm for fair and decent pay.
meanwhile, davey is becoming this incredibly powerful lawyer, known for defending immigrants and the working class in some very high-profile cases. in 1911, he runs for city council, and it’s big news! he’s only 29, he’s got progressive views, he’s jewish and an immigrant… and voters love him. he wins his seat, and pisses off conservatives around the country in the process.
so jack reads a newspaper article one day about this idiot politician up in new york who’s pushing for crazy things like child labour regulation and laws around worker’s compensation — and he just sort of blinks at it, because he’s ninety-nine percent sure councilman jacobs is his davey, out there doing all the things he said he was going to do someday.
and it strikes him how badly he wanted to be there for it— wanted to see davey come home after a long day with his fire still lit, going on and on about all the ways the world could be better and we have the power for change jackie, i know we do, we just need to get people to listen; wanted to be there to campaign for davey, making posters and getting the newsies on board and telling everyone who’ll listen to vote for dave jacobs; wanted to take him home after finding out he’d won his seat and kiss the living daylights out of him.
so he leaves some of the older boys in his lodging house in charge of the farm, books a train ticket, and sends a telegram to davey’s office: COMING TO VISIT . SEE YOU SOON . JACK .
and then something something, he’s back in new york and tracks davey down and tells him how proud he is and they kiss about it or something
he goes back to santa fe, sells his farm in shares to some of the kids he once helped out so they can keep running it, and then moves back to nyc for good because home is where the man who has his heart is <3
#im too lazy to finish it nicely but you get the gist#in reference to the title yes jack is the horse. he’s a cowboy babey yeehaw#jack kelly#davey jacobs
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Someone just said on my Izzy chihuahua post “Izzy went to live on a farm” I’m in fucking tears. He went to the farm in upstate New York. He went to that big pirate ship in the sky. He ran away and never came back. This is so fucking funny oh my god
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Decided to go over the books I’ve picked up or have been reading, just because I’m in a good mood and classes start in a week so best not squander my time and actually read stuff! These are all nonfiction because for some reason I’m just not very interested in fiction books, I tend to read that sort of stuff online, and instead buy books to learn about stuff I wouldn’t from Wikipedia.
Now, without further ado:
American Prometheus by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin; I watched Oppenheimer recently, and I liked the movie, pretty good, so my Mom decided to buy this book because she thought I’d be interested considering I like biographies. I haven’t read it so far, and honestly I don't know if I will because I have several other biographies that I already have to read that are about people I’m interested in a bit more. I already watched the movie as well. Still, it should be interesting, maybe around a year or so down the line when I’ve forgotten the movie.
Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell (AKA Eric Blair); I’ve already read 1984 and Animal Farm as part of the American Education System, so I thought to myself “why not read Orwell’s (maybe) third most famous book?” So I picked this up at the bookstore recently, and I haven’t started it yet, but it should provide an interesting look into both Orwell himself, and into the Spanish Civil War and how that whole ordeal went down. Not too much to say about this one because I obviously haven’t read it yet, but hopefully it’s interesting.
Shanghai by Harriet Sergeant; The Warlord era of China was a period from 1916 to 1928 where China basically fell apart, which was followed by the Nanjing Decade where the KMT gained power. These periods of Chinese history are some of my most favorite to read about, because of just how interesting it is to me, and I picked this book up so that I could read more about the era. There weren’t any books solely on the Warlord era, and in the future, I hope to get a book on Chen Jiongming or Yan Xishan, but for now, I’ll settle on this.
Painting as a Pastime by Winston Churchill; By far the smallest book I’ve obtained recently, this is a very short book by Churchill that details his interests in painting. My mom picked this up for me because she thought I’d be interested in it. I have painted a few things, although I prefer filling in the colors rather than drawing something out, but who knows, maybe Churchill was like Bob Ross in a way? I’ll have to read this soon, as it should be an easy thing to knock out quickly.
How to Survive History by Cody Cassidy; I picked this up in a bookstore upstate because I thought it looked interesting and was similar to a few XKCD books that I own. The book is a semi-humorous detail of roughly how to survive several historic events, which I should keep in handy when I get my physics degree, in case I somehow violate most of the standard model. Haven’t read it yet, but it’s a smaller book and not exactly a feature length biography so I should be able to pick it up sometime and read through it.
We Had a Little Real Estate Problem by Kliph Nesteroff; I also got this upstate in the same bookstore because I was drawn to the analysis of Native comedy. The book goes over the history of comedy amongst Native Americans, the nature of Native comedy (lots of dark humor in my experience), and also how we tend to be sidelined by much of popular culture due to the low amounts of us, meaning that we aren’t a very big demographic to focus on unfortunately. Also because of racism, because people were historically (and currently tbh) kinda racist against us, who’da thought? But seriously folks, I like comedy, I like the Indians, should be an interesting book. Little on the longish side, so maybe I’ll spend a few days in between larger books to read this one. Maybe it can me give tips on how to break out into comedy, you know?
Roosevelt Sweeps Nation by David Pietrusza; I visited the FDR library while upstate, and I picked up this book there. The book details the 1936 presidential election, one of the most lopsided in American history. Now then, I’m a U.S. election nerd, I like this kind of stuff, so this is exactly up my alley. Reading about FDR and the decisions made on the campaign trail and what he did and also what Landon did, this is my bread and butter. The book’s somewhat large, so I’ll have to figure out what books I want to read before and after this one, but it should be interesting at least.
The Years of Lyndon B. Johnson: The Path to Power by Robert Caro; This book is a huge book that I picked up… somewhere, I don’t actually remember. Regardless, this book is a biography of LBJ, kinda good, kinda bad president of the U.S.A. I find LBJ to be a fascinating politician because of how high his highs were, and how low his lows were. This book goes into detail about his early life up until his first bid for Senate. This is actually just the first volume in a 4 (soon to be 5 [hopefully]) volume set, of which I actually own all the rest. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to read all of these volumes, but it should be interesting. Currently reading this one right now, kind of the only book I am reading right now actually. So far I learned that the Apache one time tricked the Spanish into building a fort in the middle of nowhere claiming they wanted to convert, only for the fort to get sacked by the Comanche. Pretty smart.
On His Own Terms: A Life of Nelson Rockefeller by Richard Norton Smith; I visited Nelson Rockefeller’s house during my trip upstate, and so I decided to pick up this biography on him there. His house was actually much more interesting than I anticipated, first because of all the modern art lying around (of which I’m a pretty big fan), and because our tour guide was actually very invested in the place, so I enjoyed listening to him talk about it. Highly recommend. Anyways, Nelson Rockefeller was an interesting guy, last of the liberal Republicans, maybe could’ve saved Humphrey in `68 if he wanted to, may have died because he had sex with his mistress (happens to the best of us). Overall, interesting dude, and I will admit I don’t know many details of his life, so hopefully this book can shed light on it. I think I’ll plan to read this after I finish at least volume 1 of LBJ.
Also, I didn't pick this book up because I couldn't find it, but I do hope to get Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72 by Hunter S. Thompson soon. Talks about 1972 election, and Thompson's a pretty funny guy to read, even if he is a little, you know, weird. Hopefully I can get it soon!
Anyways, that’s all the books I’ve gotten in the past ~2 months or so, hope this inspires others to pick up these books and give them a try! Also I'll take book suggestions, don't know if I'll be able to get to any of them, but suggestions are appreciated :)
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