#wooster street

[warhead]

[jokeanddaggerdept]

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

jeeves and wooster (1990-1993) episode 2x04

[mrmousetolliver]

Nick Wooster photographed by Sophy Holland for Out magazine.

[lighthouse-productions]

Coming soon....

[faithful-grigori]

”#i am adamant that the Creature is in fact a construct rather than undead”

[lyjen]

Clipboards and utility knives

Summary: When Hen and Eddie are running late for shift, Evan has to jump in to help his girlfriend on a call. But that doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warning: Mentions of blood, guns & bullets and cutting into skin

9-1-1 masterlist :)

With a clipboard in her hand, (Y/n) wrote down the inventory numbers. Hen and Eddie were nowhere to be found and Chimney had a day off. Meanwhile Bobby, Evan and (Y/n) were already at the station, ready for their shift to begin.

Evan walked through the door of the locker room into the open space of the station. When his eyes fell on his girlfriend, who was standing with her back towards the locker room Evan had just left. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she held the pen of the clipboard against her jaw as she was focussing on inventory. He walked towards her and let his arms fall around her neck as he gave her a hug from behind. She flinched, he could tell. He felt how her heartbeat fastened when his arms fell against her skin.

“How is my favorite paramedic doing?” He asked as he kissed her cheek. She smiled, as she turns her head to the side, so she could look at him while he still had his arms around her neck.

“I thought Eddie was your favorite paramedic” she answered and she let her eyes fall back on the clipboard in her hands. “Yeah, don’t tell him. But you’re actually my favorite. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” He laughs, and planted another kiss on her cheek. “Hmmm” she reacted, her answer sounded like a “Yeah sure.” And she wrote another set of numbers down on her inventory list.

She tried to ignore Evan, she wanted to finish inventory as soon as possible. But it was hard when he was hanging around her shoulders, trying to get her attention in every possible way.

“(Y/n)” A familiar voiced called from above. Evan quickly let go of his grip he had on her, and both their bodies turned around. Bobby was standing at the railing from the loft. “Hen called, she is running late. So you’re the PIC until she gets here, okay?” Bobby asked for her agreement. She nodded, “yes cap.” And Bobby left the loft railing, heading towards his office she assumed.

“Ah so you’re the paramedic in charge now huh?” Evan teased her when he turned towards his girlfriend. She smiled as he poked her in both of her sides. “Shut up Buckley, don’t you have anything else to do?” She says as she tries to slap him away with her clipboard, while he poked her one more time. “Well..-“

“Ambulance one-eighteen, injury from a fall. Six, seven, one South Wooster street.” The bell sounded through the firehouse while red alarm light shined through the space of the firehouse. “Guess I’m going with you” he reformed his answer.

“That’s right around the corner.” (Y/n) said as she listened at the street name they just mentioned through the speakers. (Y/n) threw her clipboard on a bench in front of the gym, as Evan closed both back doors on the ambulance. (Y/n) took place at the drivers seat, and drove out of the station in the ambulance with Evan in the passenger seat next to her.

Normally (Y/n) would be driving with Hen, but she was running late, and Eddie was nowhere to be found. Evan couldn’t let her go alone on a call, as paramedics they were always with a minimum of two. Yes, Evan wasn’t really a paramedic, but he had some basic skills he could use to assist (Y/n) with.

When they arrived on location, they needed to enter an alleyway with the ambulance to reach the victim. The man wasn’t hard to find, he was lying on the ground in the abandoned alley, screaming out from the pain he received. Evan and (Y/n) jumped out of the ambulance and hurried towards the injured man.

“Sir where did you fall from?” Evan asked the homeless man, who was still screaming out his lungs. The call at the station said the man fell. “Did you fall sir?” (y/n) tried to connect with the man. “My legs! My legs!” He panics, as he tries to grab his legs.

“Okay, deep breaths. What’s your name sir?” She asked the man, trying to gather more information about the man who was down on the ground. Evan crouched down to meet the man’s height. And pulled the blanket off the homeless man his legs, to try and take a look at his injuries.

His legs were crushed. Snapped in multiple pieces. Evan’s eyes shot at (Y/n) when he saw the wounds. Bones were sticking out of the man’s lower leg.

“Buck get the medic bag and give me a needle with a flask with morphine, would you.” She ordered him. He nodded, and stood up straight when Evan’s eyes fell on a truck which’s engine was still running at the end of the street. The truck was standing completely still. “He didn’t fell, he was run over.” He concluded. And he ran towards the ambulance to get the medic bag and give the man the help he needed.

Evan took out an IV tube from the medic bag and passed a needle with a flacon of morphine to (Y/n). Evan searched for a vein in the man’s hand, while (Y/n) filled the needle with the right amount of fluids. “Get the splint out of the ambulance.” She ordered Evan.

When (Y/n) was pushing fluids through the man’s IV, Evan took out a piece of cardboard they carried with them to make a splint out to put the man’s leg in it to keep it straight. Carefully Buck tried to put the man’s legs in the splint and secured them so they could transport him to the hospital. (Y/n) got the gurney out of the ambulance and put the backboard next to the man so they could get the man easier on the gurney.

When the man was laid back on the gurney they secured the straps of the gurney around the man’s body. “He has passed out from blood loss. Let’s get him to Mercy Hospital” (Y/n) said to Evan. He nodded. (Y/n) secured the last strap around the man. When she noticed a car engine come closer, she looked up and saw a car enter the alleyway. “Who’s that?” She asked Evan. Evan looked at her confused. He was standing with his back towards the entrance of the alleyway. He turned his body ninety degrees to take a look to see what she was talking about.

It was a black vehicle that drove into the alley and stopped. Two men stepped out of the car and started walking towards Evan and (Y/n), who were still taking care of the wounded man on the gurney.

“Hey! We have got an medical emergency here, we need you to move the vehicle.” Evan told the two men. “Buck..” (Y/n) silently spoke as she noticed the two men were pointing a gun towards them. “Hands in the air, and keep your mouth shut.” One of their voices spoke. (Y/n) looked to her right, facing Evan’s blue eyes. As they both raised their hands. “It’s gonna be okay.” He said without a sound.

One of the men roughly grabbed (Y/n)’s shoulder and turned her around. “Hey! hey! don’t touch her!” Evan yelled, as he tried to reach out for (Y/n)’s arm. But Evan got pushed against a concrete wall next to him. Her hands were being bonded together with a cable tie, and so were Evan’s. “Wh- this guy needs to get to a hospital!” She said, unsure what was happening. She groaned as the cable tie started to cut into her wrist because of the tightness. “Just do what we say and nobody gets hurt” is the only thing the guy said. And they pushed Evan and (Y/n) towards the car they used to block the alley with.

“Just let her go man!” Evan said to both of the men, but they just ignored him and continued to push him. “(Y/L/N) Don’t get in that car!” Evan tried to warn her, as she tries to struggle against the man’s strength. She was too weak for the man, and she got pushed into the car.

The man who had a hold on Evan didn’t appreciate the message he told (Y/n). The guy slammed his gun against his eyebrow before he got forced into the car.

………………………….……………………………………

“Anyone heard from Buck and (Y/n)?” Eddie asked when he walked up the stairs after he got dressed into his uniform. Hen shook her head. “Nope, all I know is that they went out with the ambulance about two hours ago. And that was before I got here.” Hen answered to Eddie’s question while she took a sip out of her coffee cup. Hen leaned back against the kitchen counter as Eddie walked into the kitchen now.

Eddie was already hopping around the firehouse for an hour. This morning had been hectic. He was late to bring Chris to school, and ended up stuck in traffic when he tried to make his way to the firehouse. Eddie’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that. Normally they would’ve been back here already. The average call for paramedics is about an hour. And their call was already taking two. Eddie lets his hands rest on his hips. “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Bobby’s voice joined the conversation they were having as he was walking into the kitchen.

“Eddie thinks it’s weird that the ambulance hasn’t returned yet from their call.” Hen answered Bobby’s question. Bobby was thinking. “They’ve been out for two hours now, could they be rerouted to another scene?” Eddie asked. “It could be… let me make a call and see if Buck picks up.” Bobby said as he reached for his phone.

Bobby unlocked his phone and tapped on Buck’s contact in his list. He held his phone to his ear. “That’s weird..” Bobby begins as he removes the phone from his ear, after a few seconds. “It goes straight to voicemail.” He continues his conclusion. Hen and Eddie both gave Bobby a confused look.

“Let me try to reach (Y/n).” Hen said as she picked her phone out of her pocket, while still leaning on the kitchen counter. Phone in the right hand, and her coffee cup in her left hand. She tries to reach (Y/n)’s phone. “Hi this is (Y/n), leave a message after the tone!” Hen clicks on the red button to hang up the phone. “Straight to voice mail.”

“This can’t be right…” Eddie says. “Let’s not freak out yet, I’m gonna call dispatch to see if they have any updates on our ambulance.” Bobby tries to remain calm. But he has a gut feeling that this wasn’t good. Buck always answered Bobby’s phone calls. Buck looked up at Bobby, he saw Bobby as his role model.

“This is Captain Nash, station 118. Do you have a location on our ambulance 118?” He asked dispatch. He waited a few seconds. “We haven’t received a status update from firefighter Buckley and (Y/L/N). However the location of the tracker says that they’re on 671 South Wooster street.” The dispatcher answered Bobby’s question. Every rig had a transmitter on them, so dispatch could see where every team was at every moment. Bobby thanked the person on the phone and hung up. Bobby’s hands clasped together.

“Put on your gear let’s go, we’re gonna take a ride.”

……………………………………………………………….

While they were driving, their radio’s along with their cellphones were thrown out of the car window.

They came to a stop, the men roughly pulled Evan and (Y/n) out of the car. Evan was grabbed by the collar of his button up shirt and (Y/n) at her arms. But as soon as (Y/n) struggled against the touch of the man, he grabbed a hand full of her hair. When Evan heard his girlfriend let out a squeal, his eyes locked on her. “Hey! Don’t you touch her!” He yelled.

“Do you want me to blow out your brain?!” The guy who was holding Evan at his shirt threatened him. He had his gun pointed on his sleep. Evan squeezed his eyes closed, realising that was not his best move. He froze. “Nah, didn’t think so” he said.

(Y/n) knew she had to leave some evidence outside, for her team to know where to look. She always wore her plain ring, it was the ring she got from Evan. A plain ring was one of the few things she could wear during the job. She didn’t have anything else to use as a sign for their team to find them. So she tried to shuffle the ring off her finger and let it drop silently.

Evan felt the metal of the gun leaning against the back of his head, when he got pushed forward inside of an abandoned building. (Y/n) followed after him, the man still had his hand full of her hair. Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes as the man pulled her hair and pushed her forward into Evan’s chest. He couldn’t catch her with his hands, which were still tied together. “Are you okay?” Evan whispered silently, barely audible. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She whispered back.

“Come on man, what do you want?” Evan asked, trying to find out these guys their motive. “You two, are gonna save him.” One of the men pointed his gun at both of them, switching the gun every second between Evan and (Y/n). He pointed behind the two of them. They both turned around, and (Y/n)’s eyes fell on a man lying unconscious on the ground, with a puddle of blood underneath him. The other guy cut their cable ties loose, so they could do their jobs. Save lives.

Evan took a glance at his girlfriend next to him. “You don’t have to do this.” He tried to talk (Y/n) out of it. She was just, staring at the man. But it wasn’t like she had a choice. They were held at gunpoint. “I’ll need equipment if you want me to safe his life.”

One of them grabbed a utility knife, alcohol and some glue. And put that on the table. That was what they were working with. This was gonna be a challenge. “Buck, help me get this man on this table” (Y/n) ordered as she got the unconscious man’s legs, while Evan put out his forearms and hooked them both underneath the man’s armpits.

(Y/n) grabbed the utility knife and poured alcohol on it to disinfect the blade she was about to cut into the man’s neck. She stood at the side of the unconscious man. The man had a bullet stuck in his neck, and they wanted the paramedics help to get it out. Of course they wouldn’t want to go to a hospital with a gunshot wound in your neck.

Trying to get the courage to actually perform surgery in the field. What was she thinking? She wasn’t a trauma surgeon. She wasn’t a doctor. She was only a paramedic. Evan stood next to (Y/n), waiting for her to shout orders. Her breathing became faster, (Y/n) could hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. The feeling of panic and anxiety rushed through her veins. She couldn’t do it. Both men were nervously walking behind (Y/n) and Evan.

Buck could sense that (Y/n) was starting to reach her breaking point. He’d do anything he could to prevent that from happening. She would go into a full blown panic attack right now and that’s not what they wanted.

“Let me do it.” Evan offered as he put his hand on her trembling hand which was curled around the knife. And he slightly pushed her away. An impatient voice took over the silence of the room. “Come on! What’s the damn’ hold up!” He said as he violently pointed the gun towards Evan and the other guy pointed the gun towards his girlfriend.

They both held up their hands. “It’s okay, we’re going to help your friend.” Evan managed to say. “Just put the guns away.” He continued. They both lowered their guns, as one of them put his one on an other table.

The men were facing the back of both Evan and (Y/n). Evan took a moment to breathe, as he made a cut into the unconscious man’s neck, trying to reveal the bullet. He couldn’t make the incision too big, but he had to put his fingers through the incision so he could get out the bullet. That’s what they wanted, right? Evan looked into (Y/n)’s eyes and gave her unnoticed the blade of the utility knife, which she shove into her sleeve so it was resting on her wrist.

Evan held out his hand towards (Y/n) who was holding the alcohol in her hand. And she poured the fluid over his hand. She knew what he was going to do. Without hesitation he pushed two fingers inside the wound, and yanked out the bullet. He panted, he actually did it. “Alright. The bullet is out.” Evan announced. “Good.”

One of the guys walked towards (Y/n) as he yanked her arms together. “Hey! We did what you asked, now let us go.” Evan told them. And (Y/n) got tied up again. “Will you shut up!” The other guy sounded when he grabbed Evan at his arm. (Y/n) shuffled the blade of the knife she got in her sleeve, up and down the cable tie when the man left her side.

And it snapped loose.

She was within hand reach of the gun they had placed on a table nearby (Y/n). She didn’t think for a moment and pointed the gun towards the two men. “Drop the gun.” She told the one who was holding Evan’s arms together and holding his gun. Both of the guys stood there with a confused look projected over her face. “I said drop it!” The man took a moment to take in what was happening, and tries to straighten his arm so the gun would be pointed towards (Y/n). But before the man could do that, he received an arm who was yanking him backwards from her boyfriend. The guy tried to pull the trigger as he hit the floor with a bullet.

(Y/n) flinched by the sound of a shot being fired. The other man tried to come closer towards (Y/n). “Don’t come closer” she warned him, as she keeps the gun pointed at the man. “We both know you wouldn’t pull that trigger.” He said calmly, as he took another step forward. “Want to make a bet?” She said challenging the man, as she fired the gun at the concrete wall on her left. But when the man took another step forward. That’s when she pulled the trigger and shot the man in his leg. He was screaming out in pain, and fell to the floor.

While the other guy was still fighting Evan, he tried again to shoot in the direction of (Y/n). But she dodged the bullet. Evan punched the guy in his stomach and onto his sleep so he went unconscious.

(Y/n) felt her knees buckling, like the energy was getting pulled out of her body. She didn’t have the energy to stand anymore. Evan rushed towards his girlfriend as he catches her just in time and pulls her in a hug. Her arms were hanging around his neck, and one of his arms was resting on her waist trying to hold her weight. And the other one was holding her back, trying to comfort her but also to give her support.

Evan lowered them together to their knees, so they were on an even height. Her face was buried into his neck, crying out loud. His shirt was already cresting wet spots because of her tears. “Ssssh, you did great baby. You were so brave.” He tried to comfort his girlfriend. He could see the whole time that she was struggling. Every time he took a glance at her face, he wanted to squeeze her hand. Tell her she was going to be okay. Tell her, she didn’t need to worry because he would protect her. His arm travels from her shoulder blades down to her lower back, again and again as he tries to reassure her she was okay. He pulled back from the hug, and let his hands fell on both her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled over her cheek again. Evan’s thumb brushed the tear away, pushed a kiss to her temple and pulled her into his arms again.

“LAPD, put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers!” A familiar voice rang through the abandoned building they were still in. “Get that guy!” She ordered the other cop behind her as Athena cuffed one other guy.

“Buck! (Y/n)!” Bobby’s voice sounded through the space as they noticed them both on the ground. Blood on their hands and on their faces. Eddie, Hen and Bobby crouched down aside of the hugging couple. Bobby put his hands both on Evan’s and (Y/n)’s shoulder and basically created a group hug when Eddie and Hen also joined in. For this story they were gonna need a lot of therapy sessions.

[cfffrk]

fashion!au, sixties or fifties, thought up with @karabin4ik :з

Jeeves the famous fashion designer, one day was having coffee on the veranda at a cafe and reading a newspaper. In an instant this newspaper was snatched from his hands by a certain tall stranger. He hid his face in it, sat down opposite Jeeves at the table, and stood still. Reginald was about to be indignant, but a girl jumped out of the corner of the room, looking round with frantic eyes for this particular stranger. Without noticing him, she went on along the street, and the strange fellow awkwardly and apologetically returned the paper and fled. Jeeves remembered his hideous suit and tall, slender figure: he had long needed models of that build for his new men's collection. But everything happened so quickly that Jeeves didn't even have time to give him his business card.

The next day fate was favourable to Jeeves: walking along the seafront, he saw the couple again. They were talking in high tones, and the fellow with the long-suffering expression on his face was trying to get out of the conversation. Using all his charm and politeness, Jeeves stepped in and helped the stranger out of trouble. In return for the favour, Jeeves offered him a ride to his costume studio to try something on. So this is the moment:

(by the way, Jeeves' costumes won't be to Bertie's taste, so he leaves, but Aunt Dahlia finding a crumpled business card in his flat will make him come back)

DBH!au, thought up with @karabin4ik :]

In this au the Wooster family is in the business of manufacturing and selling high-end universal android servants all over England and the world. At some point their company invents a new model RJ0 - the ultimate android servant that can literally do everything and satisfy your every whim. It is perfect in everything, but because of the crude software it sometimes shows its character and acts not quite according to the master's expectations.

[thethirdromana]

Subscribing to Letters Regarding Jeeves and the Woman in White Weekly has left me preoccupied with the role of servants. So here's a bit of a ramble on servants - and particularly Dracula's servants, or lack thereof.

Jonathan comes from a time when being middle-class means having at least one live-in servant. But the number of servants per head of population in the UK was falling - from 1.38m in 1891 (4% of the population) to 1.27m in 1911 (2.8% of the population). That's why, in Jonathan's time, employing one servant means entry to the middle classes, but 30ish years later, the fabulously wealthy Bertie Wooster also has... one servant.

(To disgress: admittedly Jeeves is likely to be a lot more expensive to employ than the entry-level maid-of-all-work that a middle-class household would have, and there's also no indication that Wooster couldn't afford more servants, but I think it's still significant that he's happy with just the one. Wooster is gently snobbish about being appropriately dressed and going to the right restaurants and so on, but he doesn't see only having one servant as a problem.)

Dracula is a medieval nobleman. I don't know much about Transylvanian history but I would expect that in life, his castle would have been swarming with servants, both as a necessity (it takes a lot to keep a castle warm and clean, and its inhabitants fed), as a duty (to employ people from the surrounding area) and as a status symbol. And I would expect much the same to be true of a living nobleman on his country estate in 1890s Transylvania as well.

So why doesn't Dracula have any servants?

Well, obviously from a storytelling perspective, it's fucking creepy. I think the impact is lessened from a 21st century perspective because "there are no servants" is the default state for most of us, but this is the 1890s equivalent of being in a city and suddenly all the street noise goes silent. And I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place goes hard in any century. From Bram Stoker's perspective, I don't think this needs more justification and if I wasn't analysing every aspect of this book in the minutest detail I don't think I would give it any further thought.

The other obvious answer is that, being dead, Dracula doesn't need any servants. But I don't think that works. He may not need to eat or stay warm and presumably he doesn't produce any waste, but he still wears clothes that need washing and has horses that need to be cared for. Any old building needs an exhausting amount of maintenance just to keep it from crumbling. There's a lot of work that needs doing and I think we can assume that Dracula doesn't want to be doing it himself.

Perhaps he can't have servants. If serving at the castle means death (which presumably it does) then maybe the locals just refuse. And while Dracula has ways to pressure people, I can imagine that he would see that as beneath him just for the sake of having someone to wash his shirts. Maybe as much of that work as possible is done outside the castle, free of charge, by the terrified locals.

So then I find myself wondering, what is the state of the castle usually? Has Dracula spring-cleaned for his visitor? Has he brought the bed-hangings and linen out of ancient storage chests, replacing the moth-eaten ones that usually sit there, decaying? Has he dusted? There is an enormous amount of work involved just in getting the castle to the standard that Jonathan sees. Is there magic involved? Does Dracula usually live there like Sleeping Beauty with the castle crumbling around him? Or is the sumptuous luxury that Jonathan sees just an illusion?

[janasojka]

Two of my designs with Night Landscapes have been selected and featured on garments print for Paul Smith, Red Ear Collection! These garments are now available for purchase on the Paul Smith Japan website 🙏🏻

It's an honour to have my designs featured by such an iconic brand!

There may be a limited amount, in Paul Smith London Beak St store and Wooster Street, NYC around September!!!

[opencommunion]

please go to a protest for Land Day tomorrow (March 30th) if you can

AUSTRALIA – Hobart / Nipaluna. 1PM Every Saturday @ Davey St. (Grand Chancellor).

CANADA – Antigonish, NS. 1PM Every Saturday @ Antigonish Town Hall. Antigonish 4 Gaza.

CANADA – Montreal. 2PM Land Day Tatreez Workshop @ Refugee Center. PYM Montreal.

CANADA – Ottawa. 2PM Land Day @ Human Rights Monument.

CANADA – Toronto. 2PM Land Day @ Yonge & Dundas. PYM Toronto.

ENGLAND – Halifax. 1PM Every Saturday @ Wilkos on Southgate.

ENGLAND – Hebden Bridge. 3PM Every Saturday @ Holme Street. 4PM @ St George’s Square. West Yorkshire for Palestine.

ENGLAND – London. 11AM @ 7 Tavistock Square. PYM Britain.

ENGLAND – London. 12PM @ Central London. STW UK.

NETHERLANDS – Amsterdam. 7PM Every Night @ Dam Square.

PORTUGAL – Porto. 10PM Every Night Vigil @ Camara Municipal.

SCOTLAND – Orkney. 1PM Every Saturday @ St Magnus Cathedral Steps. Amnesty Orkney.

AZ – Phoenix. 1MP Land Day @ Civic Space Park. PSL Phoenix AZ.

CA – Los Angeles. 1PM Land Day March @ LA City Hall. PYM LA/OC/IE.

CA – Petaluma. 12:30PM Every Saturday @ Petaluma & E Washington. Occupy Pelatuma.

CA – Ventura. 12:30PM @ 181 E Santa Clara St. ANSWER Coalition.

CO – Fort Collins. 3PM Every Saturday @ Old Town Square. NOCO Liberation Coalition.

DC – Washington DC. 4PM @ DuPont Circle. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Gainesville. 11AM @ Depot Park. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Orlando. City Hall. TBA. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Pensacola. PM @ Main & Reus (Blue Wahoos). PSL CGC. 

GA – Atlanta. 2PM @ Consulate of Israel. PYM.

ID – Pocatello. 12PM Every Saturday @ Bannock County Courthouse. Pocatello for Palestine.

IL – Chicago. 1PM @ TBA. USPCN + Chicago SJP.

LA – New Orleans. 3:30PM @ 701 N Rampart St.

MA – Springfield. 2PM @ 36 Court St. ANSWER Coalition.

ME – Portland. 1PM @ Monument Square. PSL Maine.

MI – Detroit. 1:30PM @ Beacon Park. USPCN.

MI – Detroit. 10AM Land Day @ Rouge Park. PYM.

MN – Minneapolis. 2PM @ 2707 West Lake St. ANSWER Coalition.

MT – Kalispell. 12PM Every Saturday @ Main & Center. MT 4 Palestine.

NC – Asheville. 4PM @ 1 N Pack Square. ANSWER Coalition.

NC – Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. CLT 4 Palestine + PSL Carolinas.

NC – Raleigh. 3PM Land Day @ Moore Square. PSL Carolinas.

NC, Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. Land Day. CLT 4 Pali + PSL Carolinas.

NM – Albuquerque. 4PM @ UNM Book Store. ANSWER Coalition.

NY – New York. 12PM @ City Hall Park. Within Our Lifetime.

NY – New York. 12PM Vigil Every Saturday @ 5th & 44th in Brooklyn. Sunset Park Elders.

NY – New York. 5PM @ Times Square. PYM.

NY – Rochester. 1:30PM @ MLK Park. End Apartheid ROC + SJP UR.

OH – Cincinnati. 3PM @ 801 Plum St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Cleveland. 2PM Land Day @ Edgewater Upper Pavillion. USCPN.

OH – Columbus. 4PM @ 120 W Goodale St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Dayton. 5PM @ 2680 Ridge Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Wooster. 11AM @ 538 N Market St. ANSWER Coalition.

OR – Bend. 12PM Saturdays @ Peace Corner. Central Oregon 4 Socialism.

OR – Portland. 12PM @ Desert Island Studios. Letters for Palestine PDX.

PA – Philadelphia. 5PM @ 7th & Walnut. ANSWER Coalition.

PA – Pittsburgh. 3:30PM @ 4100 Forbes Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

RI – Providence. 5PM @ Prospect Terr. ANSWER Coalition.

TX – Houston. 1PM @ Waterwall Park. PYM Houston.

TX – San Antonio. 12PM @ 301 E Travis ST. ANSWER Coalition.

VT – Burlington. 1PM @ City Hall. ANSWER Coalition.

WA – Seattle. 2PM Land Day @ Lake Union Park. PYM.

WI – Milwaukee. 1:30PM @ Sijan Park. PSL Milwaukee.

WI – Viroqua. 11AM Vigil Every Saturday @ Main & Decker. Driftless Solidarity / Wolves PSC.

WV – Martinsburg. 12PM Land Day @ Martinsburg Town Square. PSL WV.

DISCLAIMER: I didn't make this list and it's not comprehensive. If you don't see a protest near you, look up what your local orgs are doing, and if you still can't find anything, take autonomous action

[warhead]

[annoyinglandmagazine]

First Time Reading Girl Genius Novels 2

I am not surprised Agatha thought Lilith’s reaction to being told her lack of uniformity made her like Judy so it was fine was a bit odd. That is a weird interaction for her on so many levels.

Agatha’s gradual realisation as a child of the way the world around her discriminates against people like her parents gives me emotions.

She has a much more vivid memory of Barry than I expected, ‘seemed worried about things he couldn’t talk about’ is spot on and also heartbreaking

Agatha’s joy at having a home and stability for the first time is a lovely thing to add, she misses Barry of course but it’s interesting that they clarified he wasn’t in a good place or position to be raising a child

The late night argument and Barry’s collapsing mental health and possible death told through three increasingly rambling letters also giving me many emotions

The Heterodynes as an almost religious presence, an ideal people aspire to, like, ‘we should live our lives as if they will return’ is such a spiritual way to put it which I kind of love worldbuilding wise.

Jägers and Boris having an intense rivalry is one of my favourite running jokes and the backstory of Klaus enforcing a time limit on their fights before he has to mediate really reminds me of the ‘it’s like running a kindergarten’ line.

An opportunistic doughnut seller seeing the Baron engaged in a total and hostile take over of his town with his heir, second in command and soldiers and deciding they might not have had time to grab breakfast is exactly the kind of batshit insanity I expect from this setting.

Gil and Klaus just running madly through the streets, dodging crates and jumping on to walls in sync while keeping up a conversation like this is just about Tuesday (which it is for them) must be a pretty weird sight even for bystanders in girl genius

The older jäger grinning at Adam is a nice bit of foreshadowing

Just generally loving the fact that the jägers saying weird shit and arguing over things that make no sense is so normalised that it allows them to get away with hiding basically anything even if most of them have no idea what subtlety is

Gil and Klaus taking a moment to discuss how best to cover the undressed girl in front of them before proceeding further is kind of hilarious to me

Also every iteration of this exchange ‘You don’t find the fact that the girl is running about in a machine shop in her underwear to be unusual? Red fire, boy, what sort of lab did you maintain in school?’ Plus Gil’s blushing and ‘Father! please!’ is comedic gold.

The jägers finding loopholes to secretly give Klaus a guard when he’s in one of his moods (which are apparently a known and regular thing) where he wants to do everything by himself just because, is both wholesome and funny

The tavern song. Oh my god.

I need more information about how Agatha wandering around in her underwear makes Sleipnir assume she’s English.

Interesting that she’s calling her the Von Pinn. I never noticed that happening in the comic.

Descriptions of the school are nice to have, especially the bulletin boards covered in drawings, letters and so on, really makes it feel like an actual primary school.

Extremely rare Klaus feminist moment on the trousers front, though it’s definitely more about practicality than anything else

Agatha was shocked at Sleipnir referring to Wooster as a codfish, Girl Genius characters’ weird idea of what counts as swearing is so much fun

Children cycling around the airship delivering messages is a nice touch as are all the other details about Castle Wulfenbach, it really drives home the whole nerve centre and capital city of the empire thing

Saying you refer to your boyfriend as Herr Nice to justify not recognising his name is certainly one approach

Mowgli. Agatha you are fooling nobody here

Them ripping a machine apart while they’re plummeting to the ground and grinning maniacally should not be as adorable as it is

Khrizan gently cradling Agatha, calling her sweetheart and checking that she’s alright should have been a clue to someone that there as something special about her

Morbid children’s songs my beloved

Theo’s little interactive bit where he chases the children around during the story is so absurdly endearing.

“He nodded to the girls as he passed ‘RHaah,’ he said conversationally.” Did I mention I love Theo?

PRT is a genius bit of worldbuilding and I love it. That whole section is amazing especially the fact that personality shifts going more insane is only a tricky hypothetical on a test paper because Sparks are already like that to start with

I love that the tables are designed to be constantly replaced because they let the kids try out their new gadgets at mealtimes for serving the food.

They all bring different dishes from wherever they’re from which is also nice

The school is a lot bigger than I thought if they’re implying what we see is only a tenth of its normal capacity.

Klaus insisting that they go and oversee or assist in the harvests themselves to try and curb the culture of elitism is great and the way the kids actually look forward to it as opposed to their parents who hate it shows its actually working

The fact that Lucifer Mongfish’s conflicts with the Heterodynes are considered the cause of Bill’s marriage to Lucrezia rather than an obstacle tells you a lot

The logistics of family gatherings where every family member wants to and has tried to kill each other

Agatha comparing an argument between two twelve year olds to one between two teachers at her university is very in character with sparks

The Large Dangerous Mechanical Lab being the real name is kind of funny

[campgender]

“Stone Butch, Drag Butch, Baby Butch” by Joan Nestle

published in A Restricted Country (1987)

1.

New words swirl around us

and still I see you in the street

loafers, chinos, shades.

You dare to look too long

and I are turn your gaze,

feel the pull of old worlds

and then like a femme

drop my eyes.

But behind my broken look

you live

and walk deeper into me

as the distance grows between us.

Shame is the first betrayer.

2.

The birth of Lesbian feminism. New York. The old firehouse on Wooster Street. Wooden chairs pulled across the cobbled floor. Pretty young women form a circle to form a group called the Lesbian Liberation Committee. Two old-time Lesbians arrive, grey-haired, short DAs. They stand on the outskirts. I go to the bathroom on the floor below. Two of the young women stand in front of me. “Why do they have to look like men? I hope they don’t come back.” When I returned upstairs, the grey-haired women were gone. They never returned. Jean and Ginny told the world who we were and what we wanted. Books were written saying the bad old days were over. The national organizations started, the presses and newspapers began, and the grey-haired women receded further and further, as if they had blended into the walls.

Shame is the first betrayer.

3.

Stone butch, drag butch, baby butch

the litany of the unwanted.

I see your eyes smoking

behind the self-congratulations

of the vegetarians

the Goddess worshippers

the healers.

Your magic worked in other places

in church alcoves

in diner toilets

in moving cars

pants with sharp creases

shirts cuffed

hair slicked back

riding Brooklyn subways

at five in the morning

shades worn just right

for mystery, for protection.

Rigid, you walked the gauntlet of their sneers

Hey lezzie, hey queer

and even when it was the end of the line

you kept moving.

A strange witch,

my baby butch.

4.

Stone butch, drag butch, baby butch

leaned me back against the bathroom door

tuned for the intrusion, you sucked my breast.

Alert and wanting, we made love in a public place

because territory was limited.

You pushed my wetness out

only when cunning had won for us a place.

In a subway station toilet

I held your head between my thighs

heard the roar and thought it was

our secret rushing out.

5.

Stone butch, drag butch, baby butch

Sandy tells me of the time

she walked in Prospect Park

with her lover on her arm.

Forgetting they were freaks,

they let the bending trees

caress their day.

The men, outraged by Sandy’s pants

and Carol’s skirt,

attacked with chains.

The women fled,

past playgrounds

past the benches made for lovers.

Sandy, smiling, says

through all the years

they never hurt me,

but we both know better.

6.

A hot dark night on Eighth Street.

Held tight with love,

the butch yells up to a shadow on the wall

all she can see of her lady

who calls out

“I’m here baby”

and we all hear her.

A shrine for separated lovers,

the Women’s House of D.*

They tore it down

replaced it with a garden

but those voices still are there

the lasting blossoms of our surviving time.

Stone butch, drag butch, baby butch

I keep you deep within me

warning voices in a changing time.

Shame is the first betrayer.

*The Women’s House of Detention stood for many years on the corner of Eighth Street and Sixth Avenue in Greenwich Village.

[mrmousetolliver]

[may--hawk]

All Hail Jeeves

A Jeeves & Wooster/Good Omens crossover fic.

Rating: T

Pairings: Jeeves/Wooster, Aziraphale/Crowley

Summary:

Many things had been proposed as the agent behind Jeeves’ exceptional acumen, his savoir-faire, his shimmering appearances, his uncanny well of knowledge, his unfailing ability to get anyone anywhere out of any pinch. The potential causes had been posited as follows: a diet heavy in fish, a bedside table full of improving reading, an overabundance of gray matter, aided by a particular protuberance at the back of the head, allowing for more of the soft stuff than anybody else. Not one of these came close to the truth.* The truth was that Reginald Jeeves, the premier gentleman’s personal gentleman, Honor of Ganymede, First Class, of Berkeley Street, London, was, to put it plainly, a devil. *Except for the bit about the fish.

Not the devil, of course. Jeeves had always preferred to leave the starring roles for others. No, Jeeves was a fairly standard demon of the ninth house, seventh planet, Minerva ascending, with a scroll of medals and honors to his name. Some were made of obsidian, others made of actual souls worn thin and flat, as if pressed by a souvenir coin machine, and then stamped with accolades such as MOST PRESTEEJUS SOUL 36 AD or HELL’S TOP FLIE PHISHERMIN,2 that latter trophy remaining in his possession for a dozen centuries running. When he had found himself on Earth, Jeeves left those medals and awards down in Hell. They were not something to leave carelessly lying about the flat, where any gentlemen might stumble into them. Not that Mr. Wooster would ever think of such spying activities, but some of his acquaintances and relatives were, perhaps, a little less inhibited.

Before finding himself in Mr. Wooster’s employ, Jeeves had been on Earth for five thousand years. Not nearly as long as demons like Crowley, the original tempter, but most certainly long enough. Jeeves was a master craftsman, securing one particularly coveted soul for Satan at a time, working slowly on them over decades, like a particularly trusted servant polishing a fine bit of silver. That was, indeed, the guise often taken: trusted servant, confidante, advisor, vizier, mentor. He would be seen every half-century or so down in the Pit by Satan’s side, inclining his head as Satan requested someone in particular of him. Solomon. Caesar. Cleopatra. Nero. Arthur. An entire host of Henris and Henrys and Louis.

Satan, it was said, relied on Jeeves. Jeeves was known to assist Lord Beelzebub at times. Dukes Hastur and Ligur always treated him with the utmost respect. (“Better to have ‘im on our side than not,” Ligur was heard to say, and shiver.) Duke Usher was beneath his notice.3 The lesser demons were afraid of Jeeves, and stories were told in the lower levels of Erics being somewhere they shouldn’t have been, doing something they shouldn’t have been doing, turning around to see Jeeves standing there looking at them in disapproval. And then they were never seen again.

Jeeves’ opinions on the final battle to come were not known, although it was generally assumed he had his own plan in the making. There were a series of bets on what this might entail among some of the bolder demons, along with a great currying of favor, which Jeeves seemed impervious to. And what of his opinion of Earth, and humans? Few knew. He liked the philosophers, he was known to confess on occasion. He allowed that a few of them understood perhaps a bit better than She did what it was all about. He was rather fond of the fish. But of everything else, he was rather reserved.

And then in the early twentieth century - not much time left now, the demons would say to each other, although not really with any sort of anticipation, as they’d been down in Hell so long that, not having much imagination to begin with, they couldn’t really picture anything else - Jeeves received an assignment to ensure the collection of an age-old deal. Centuries ago, an old English Lord had promised his firstborn in exchange for the king to visit at his house on his way to hunting. The deal had been made, the king had stopped, and the man’s wife impregnated while the man himself was down in the wine cellar’s at the king’s behest. This particular turn of events, entirely foreseen to all but the man himself, raised all manner of issues regarding the legitimacy of the deal. The document had been tied up in Legal for eons and had finally come back stamped Approved.4

Jeeves had oiled from France to London to the residence of one Bertram Wilberforce Wooster, a first-born son of a long line of first-born sons, in order to win his soul to Satan in adherence to the deal as written. The man, Jeeves was led to understand, was a bit of a reprobate, recently released from jail for a most heinous crime. Like most modern young gentleman, Jeeves thought, and sighed a little. It would be an easy task, and then perhaps, he could go to Paris, or to Crete for a holiday, while they still remained on this earth.

It took a great deal of knocking to rouse the dissolute young Wooster, it seemed, and Jeeves was very nearly considering leaving - the man would undoubtedly go to Hell without Jeeves’ intervention - when the door swung wide.

“I was given to understand you required a valet,” Jeeves said. The man gaped at him like a rather mild English fish. On another plane, Jeeves smiled, not very nicely. Jeeves liked fish. “Very good, sir,” said Jeeves, and oiled in.

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