#wow that cap on the top right is so saturated who did I think I was

[samingtonwilson]

10 Things I Hate About You - Jim Kirk

Summary: The poem from 10 things i hate about you-- jim kirk edition

Warnings: language, lil angsty

A/N: a bit long once again. i seem to have a thing with the number 10 and jim kirk. huh. hope it’s not too similar to the last one. forgive any typos, i didn’t read this over too carefully. enjoy and please let me know what you think! (P.S. @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse- this is the piece i told you about)

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.

There was a deep sting spreading over the skin of your inner thighs. It was as if you needed to be more aware of the angry red abrasions coloring you, as if your skin didn’t feel close to spontaneously igniting with each step you took.

Most days, you would have worn the scuffed skin with pride— you could never think there was anything to be ashamed of. But this was not one of those days. On this day, the sting served as a reminder of the shore leave you would’ve preferred to forget.

As you walked through the halls of the Enterprise, your lips clamped shut to prevent the sound of any unintended winces, you told yourself all you needed was one of Leonard’s magic balms and a good night’s sleep. You told yourself it was doctor’s orders— as if that pathetic addition to your inner monologue would result in a smile.

A few inches from the medbay entryway, you tugged on the hem of your unnecessarily bright blue uniform and took a deep breath. Normalcy, you repeated to yourself. Normalcy is all we’re after.

You inhaled the scent of antiseptic until it hit every corner of your lungs and pulled your PADD closer to your chest as you nodded in greeting to the nurses and even managed a smile when you spotted Leonard in his favorite exam room.

“Didn’t see you on the shuttle.”

You hummed as you approached his side, shrugging when he glanced in your direction. “Made it there late and had to sit with the command ensigns.”

“That explains all’a,” he motioned towards your face, “that.”

“Excuse me?” you asked with an incredulous laugh. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as Leonard sifted through the newly restocked drawers. “What’s that mean?”

“Don’t usually look as angry as you do right now, sweetheart, that’s all.”

“Angry? I smiled at you!”

He nodded. “Looked menacing enough to have me damn near pissin’ my pants— looked like the homicidal offspring of that Khan bastard.”

“Kind,” you quipped, rolling your eyes as you looked down at the screen of your PADD. “I should go before my first appointment gets to Exam Room 1 and I’m nowhere to be found.”

“It’s Jim so I stocked your cabinet with sedatives,” Leonard winked as you slipped from the room with a weight pulling the corners of your lips downward.

You couldn’t blame him for mentioning Jim so casually. He knew you had a little crush on the man, knew the man had a little crush on you, but was blissfully unaware of what transpired as a result of these tiny crushes.

The thought had you smirking ruefully at the word itself: crush. You thought it was apt.

“You’re early,” you hated the sound of your voice as you spoke to his back. It sounded as if you’d ingested helium, as if your vocal cords shook beyond your control. But, rather than show Jim your annoyance at yourself, you offered him a smile as he faced you. A smile you hoped was not as menacing as the one you offered Leonard moments ago.

He smiled back at you. His face was bare, all of the two-week growth that painted your inner thighs gone. He’d even trimmed his hair, the soft blonde hair your fingers ruined each day of those two weeks looking brand new.

You thought he might have been eliminating traces of you. After all, the deal was two weeks— two weeks to finally tear through your lingering tension, two weeks to keep fraternization from interfering with your careers. And those two weeks ended the moment you woke up to an empty bed saturated with the scent of mint and citrus.

“No use putting off the inevitable, right?” he said, hopping onto the biobed with ease. “You have to draw my blood and I’d rather you did that when I’m running off the high of a launch.”

There was a soft pinch at the border of your throat as he spoke. Nonchalantly, composed, deprived of anything that was so imbued in his voice the last you spoke. His smile almost finished you off with its easy-breezy feel— you shook your head to yourself, though. Normalcy.

You just needed time.

“Scotty says Keenser actually picked up during shore leave.”

“Wow,” you mused, your voice soft so that any pitch issues could pass by unnoticed. “Didn’t know they made ‘em short enough.”

“You’re concerned about height?” Jim asked with a snort. He looked bright, he sounded bright. “The man’s skin is almost rock-solid, Doc! Who’s that comfortable for?”

I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

It took three weeks for Jim to grow tired of the mask he wore. The weight of the thick façade corroded his resolve more and more each day. In the beginning, he’d assumed the opposite. He likened his assumption to the mere exposure effect— the more he saw himself with the mask, the more he withstood the weight of it: the more likely he was to develop a habit of it, if not a liking toward.

Sadly, that ended up being untrue. His exhaustion increased almost twofold everyday, his dislike toward himself increased with the same leap. It would increase even further upon encounters with you— in his mind, you were so unaffected, so… okay. Meanwhile he stroked the bare skin of his cheeks and wished he could regrow that beard you seemed to love so much, maybe still have a part of you with him.

The exhaustion didn’t arrive alone, though; it arrived with self-loathing. He used to pride himself most on his honesty, on his willingness to go against the grain to do what was right for him and for the greater good. But he was not allowed that comfort in this situation and the loss of his comfort resulted in the thick self-loathing he’d never felt before.

There were certain things he couldn’t control. He couldn’t control the way his body changed around you. His chest would ache— a stuttering beat producing a longing he didn’t think he’d be able to withstand. And his eyes would be unable to move from you— as if he wanted to drink you in while he still could. He even kept you from away missions as it meant he could look at you more, unscathed and unharmed— he didn’t know what he’d do if you were put in harm’s way.

Because it wasn’t a two-week-thing for him. It could never be a two-week-thing for him when it came to you.

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned as your eyes snapped forward again as if the blue you caught sight of was lethal. You nearly stumbled into Uhura as you took a step forward in the commissary queue.

She looked over her shoulder so you could meet her gaze. Her coffee brown eyes were narrowed so her long eyelashes cast a shadow over her sharp cheekbones. “Is it Kirk again?”

“I can’t go anywhere on this goddamn ship without seeing him.” You busied yourself with pulling the skin beside your fingernails. “I know he’s the captain and it’s his ship but can he stop acting like he’s the captain and it’s his ship?”

Uhura snorted. “Yet you’re still friends with him, Doc.”

You scowled at the sound of his nickname for you. “It was just two weeks of sex. If I can’t go back to being friends after that, what does it say about me?”

After a moment, Uhura’s curiosity found Jim and she stared at him with her head tilted. “He’s still looking at you.”

“I don’t care,” you scoffed. You were getting better at the indifference routine.

“Really? Then why have you been complaining about his relentless gawking for the last couple of weeks?”

“I just think it’s sad he’s settled for looking at me when there’s, like, a million stars to look at out the window. Plus, it’s impolite to gawk and his mother has probably taught him better.”

I hate your big, dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.

You sat in Leonard’s desk chair sideways. Your legs were draped over one armrest while your back rested against the other. A glass of whiskey sat on top of your stomach, a smile of amusement over your lips as you balanced it somehow.

“I should be an acrobat.”

Jim snorted from the seat across the desk. There was a soft pink tint over the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His eyes were glassy but focused on you, almost too focused.

He had his obnoxiously heavy booted feet set atop the desk, crossed at the ankles as he held his glass of whiskey tightly between his two hands. “I’d like to see that.”

“You, of all people, Cap, should be supporting me in this endeavor. You can attest to how bendy I am.”

You saw his the electric blue of his irises flash. He hummed. “You’re still the clumsiest person I know.”

“You need to augment the pool of people you know, then,” you mumbled into your glass.

Jim had walked in on you breaking into Leonard’s liquor stash. He didn’t ask any questions upon noticing your reddened eyes and paled skin, he only fell into the seat across from you and told you to pull a glass out for him as well. He knew you needed to forget whatever caused your stuffed nose and forced you to hiccup every third word, and he would forget with you if that was what you needed.

He watched you knock back your sixth drink, his second still untouched. “You know, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I’m sure everyone can attest to that.”

When you snorted a laugh of disbelief, he felt as broken as you looked, your bottom lip between your teeth so it could stop shaking with unreleased sobs.

Something about what he said and something about the way he said it made your ribs shake as it hit the spot that hurt so much. “Is there some special reason you’re telling me that?”

He frowned and shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”

I hate you so much it makes me sick — it even makes me rhyme.

You groaned as you flushed the toilet filled with your stomach acid and putrid alcohol-scented upchuck. You rose from your aching knees and smeared enough toothpaste on your brush watch it ooze off the sides. It was the third time you’d gone through that routine in a span of just four hours and the sixth time you’d gone through it in the span of ten hours.

The air in your small shore leave quarters smelled stale— it carried an overpowering mixture of the alcohol leaving your pores, the mouthwash you so diligently swished, and the strawberry-like fruits you had completely forgotten about on your kitchenette counter. Your sheets were too rough— you thought the white fabric might exfoliate your skin for you unintentionally. Your mattress was too stiff— you snorted a laugh at the idea that it might have been made of limestone.

You let yourself be angry at all of that— at the scent your room carried, at the bedding that was nothing short of adequate, at the mattress that would’ve hugged you if you gave it a chance. It was certainly easier than accepting what you were truly angry about.

After all, you had no right to be jealous. Jim was yours for two weeks on a shore leave months ago. Who were you to burn at the sight of him with someone else? Who were you to feel your chest tighten, your throat pinch, and your eyes water?

So you refocused all of your negative energy. You suffocated whatever energy you could by drowning it in vodka and unleashed the remnants upon your sheets, upon your mattress, upon the strawberry-like fruits that understood the neglect you so deeply felt.

There was anger focused on yourself that you couldn’t control, though, no matter how hard you tried. Each time you looked in the mirror throughout the course of the day, you only saw how your body deceived you. You only saw the red rimming your eyes, the swelling of your features, the sadness so clearly coating your irises. You’d told yourself there was no reason to be upset, no reason to feel your heart break at such a trivial occurrence. It just seemed that you didn’t listen, that you were too far gone to listen, too angry to listen over the whoosh of blood pumping in your ears.

“I’m okay, Bones.”

He snorted from one of the four too-tall, too-straight, too-uncomfortable chairs encircling the sorry excuse for a dining table. His eyes seemed to notice all of your body’s deceit as well. “S’good thing you didn’t go into acting, sugar. You’re the most unconvincin’ —”

“Bones,” you interrupted, your voice soft. You tried to smile at him a little. “I only asked you to bring some food and maybe nausea medicine. You don’t need to play therapist. I’m fine, it’s just a small problem of mine.”

“‘Fine,’” he snorted. “You’ve looked miserable for a while, it just hasn’t come to head until now.”

He sighed and placed a large, warm hand over yours. His hazel eyes softened as he looked over you. “I’ll kill whoever it is, just name ‘em.”

You smiled easily, shaking your head. “What makes you think someone did this? I’m an independent person— I can make myself miserable without anyone’s assistance.”

I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.

“I got you something.”

You looked up from the table at which you sat, tilting your head at Jim as he slid a small paper bag under your nose. “Why?”

A frown of consideration was spread over his lips and he set his elbows atop the table. He drummed his fingers against the surface and raised his thick eyebrows, shrugging. “Figured you haven’t eaten.”

You glanced around the sparsely populated commissary— few red shirts were clustered together in the back right corner and the nurses you preferred to have by your side in the medbay were situated at the far left.

You had decided to take your break earlier— there was a higher likelihood of peaceful solitude after half a shift of performing physicals that way.

“Assumptions can be harmful, Jim.”

“Did I assume correctly?”

“Yes,” you admitted, desperately wishing the smile that pulled at your lips would quash itself. “But I’ve been feeling kind of sick lately and replicator food is hardly a good antidote—”

“It’s not replicator food.”

“So what, you’re just sneaking actual, fresh food on board now like contraband? S’not allowed.”

He flashed you a crooked smile, leaning forward so you could feel his breath caress your already warm cheeks. He watched as your eyes widened a little. “Next time you want to reprimand me for breaking the rules, Doc, try not to sound so aroused.”

You sat back in your seat, creating a wider distance between the two of you. “Cap, I’d like to see someone who doesn’t get aroused at the prospect of actual, real food on this starship— even if we’ve only been back for a day.”

You pulled a small basket of the same fruit you’d let rot on the kitchenette counter of your shore leave quarters, biting down on your lip. You looked at Jim and tilted your head. “How’d you know I like these?”

“I didn’t know,” he answered, taking one of the red berry-shaped fruits for himself. “I like them.”

The face he made as he took a bite indicated otherwise.

I hate it when you make me laugh — even worse when you make me cry.

You stepped between Jim’s legs, placing your hand against his right cheek. You tapped your finger against his skin three times and kept your eyes in the blue haze before you. You had to work hard to not crack a molar due to the strength with which you gritted your teeth.

You used your hand to turn his face and stare at the long gash that ran from below his temple to the middle of his cheek. There were several smaller cuts sprinkled over his face, disturbing the otherwise smooth surface. You had to suppress a loud and heavy sigh.

“You could be more gentle.”

You tried to focus on the beeping of the biobed monitor rather than the amusement in his voice. “You could be less of an idiot.”

“Now that’s not fair.”

“Yeah? Did someone ask you to go near volatile machinery while the ship passes through a magnetized nebular field?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the cut as you rolled a cotton swab coated in povidone-iodine over its length. You watched as it slightly stained the surrounding skin to a deep rust color. “I would think when Scotty warns you not to and actually tells you he’s the only one authorized to handle it, you would play fair and command your ship from where you were meant to.”

He tried to turn to face you but you pushed back with more force. He clicked his tongue in reaction and you felt his jaw clench under your gloved fingertips. “I was trying to make sure there would still be a ship to command.”

“That’s what your chief engineering officer is meant for.”

“And are my physicians meant to lecture me?”

“Only when you’re being stupid,” you returned through your teeth, picking up the dermal regenerator from the biobed and firing it up once you held it to Jim’s cut.

You watched the red light work its magic, chewing the inside of your cheek in silence. Once you reached the halfway point of the scar, you let yourself glance at Jim— he looked a bit worn down, less bright than you were used to.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost inaudible over the regenerator’s whirring. You caught Jim’s eye as he peered at you. “I know you were only doing what you thought was right.”

He dropped his gaze, looking as far down as his held-steady head would let him. “No, you’re right. I tend to be headstrong sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’?” you repeated with a soft smile, the chuckle leaving your lips almost foreign to you in its involuntary nature.

You sighed after a moment, switching the handheld machine off. “You have no idea how much it worries me to see you like this. Especially after I hear you’ve been interfering with engineering, you yellow shirt.”

You felt him smile.

“The last time you did that, I had watch Bones identify your body,” you added, shaking your head when you felt your throat pinch. “I am sorry if I come across a bit harsh, but it comes from a good place.”

You’d made a promise to yourself the night your jealousy led to an enormous intake of alcohol. You told yourself you wouldn’t be upset over Jim. You wouldn’t feel jealousy, sadness, anger over him as you had no right to. But, once again, it seemed that your body was betraying you as a few heavy tears fell onto your cheeks and burned the way down.

All you could do was grit your teeth and hope for it to pass.

I hate it when you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call.

Jim was moving on! Or so he told himself.

He was doing all he could to get you out of his mind. After all, you were the only thing on it for how ever many torturous months he spent convincing himself friendship was enough. And after seeing how broken you were as you patched him up, how restless you became at his very presence for the following weeks, he knew there was no way he could be around you without holding you until the frustration left your limbs, without kissing you until the fear left your eyes. So he avoided you.

He spent less time heckling Leonard in the medbay as he ran the risk of bumping into you in the stark white room. He avoided the commissary at times he knew you would be there, he chose to spend evenings in his room rather than the senior officers’ lounge, he reiterated to himself that the observation deck was off-limits. He did all he could to get you off his mind.

The problem was, though, that he couldn’t.

When you noticed his absence at first, you were a bit relieved. No more staring, no more dirty boots trudging through your quarters, no more assumptions that turned out to be annoyingly true— your body couldn’t betray you if he wasn’t around. For those first few days, you subscribed to the “out of sight, out of mind” principle. Only it failed you by the end of that week.

You noticed his absence made you think of him more. You began to pay more attention to the voices you heard around you in the commissary, hoping to pick his out of the bunch. You spent more time in Leonard’s office, bothering him until you resigned back to your post. Your body betrayed you anyway and you did all you could to ease the tightness in your chest.

The problem was, though, that you couldn’t.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you—  

You found yourself at Jim’s door. Your hand was raised and you leaned your knuckles against the metallic surface, setting your forehead there as well.

You groaned inwardly.

You raised your hand again, knuckles at the ready… before placing them against the door once more. Not a sound could be heard.

You shook your head this time. You took your hand from the door and shook it, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. Then you counted to twenty, then thirty, then forty.

With a loud sigh and a curse under your breath, you raised your hand and rapped your knuckles against the door with a force you didn’t know you were capable of. You regretted it immediately and considered racing down the hall to slide into the safe confines of the turbolift, but stood your ground.

When the door slid open, you didn’t give yourself enough time to watch his eyes widen or his mouth fall open. You looked over his shoulder and said, “I need to tell you something.”

He moved out of the way and silently motioned for you to enter.

You fell onto his couch. You crossed your legs at the knee, then at the ankle, and once again at the knee— you settled at the knee. You twisted your fingers together.

“Is everything okay?”

The breath you’d been holding left your lips in a single gust. You took your eyes, useless with the blur of unshed tears, from your fingers to Jim’s vague form. “No.”

You blinked hard, looking away only to look back at him as he knelt before you.

He took your hands in his much larger, much warmer ones and stared up at you as if every planet he was sent to explore resided in your irises, pupils dilated enough to consume you entirely. He watched a few more tears escape the corners of your eyes and felt them burn his cheeks as they rolled down your face.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke a soft, “What’s wrong?”  

“I thought what we were doing was the right thing to do,” you told him in a voice that broke more times than you’d care to admit. “But the right thing shouldn’t feel like this.”

You took a shaky breath and wiped your cheeks clean. You almost leant into one of his hands as he took it from yours and cupped one side of your face, his thumb brushing your skin lightly.  “I had you for two weeks. I thought I would get it out of my system, get you out of my system— but I couldn’t. All I could think about was how stupid those people are that claim it’s better to have a little than to have none.

“I would trade those two weeks just to have you as a friend again— and I know we still are now, but it’s not the same. I used to be more comfortable around you than anyone. Now I look at you and I’m scared that you’ll see how in love I am with you and you won’t feel the same.”

Jim sat up a bit, letting his hand move from the side of your face to rest against the back of your neck. Looking at you in a way that forced your heart into your stomach, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours softly. He let his nose bump yours. “You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of— trust me.”

—  not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

[zenruption]

The Daily Disaster-6/9

Add to Flipboard Magazine.

AN UNDER-APPRECIATED PROBLEM WITH THE TRUMP PRESIDENCY IS HOW HE AND HIS STAFF CONTINUOUSLY NORMALIZE DISASTER. BECAUSE WE WITNESS NEW SCANDALS, GAFFES, COVERUPS, HYPOCRISY, MISDIRECTION, INCOMPETENCE, ATROCITY, CRONYISM, IGNORANCE, RACISM, XENOPHOBIA, TREASON, EMBARRASSMENT, LIES, DYSFUNCTION, POWER GRABS, WAR ESCALATIONS, ENVIRONMENTAL ASSAULTS, MISOGYNY AND MORE ON A DAILY BASIS, THE MAGNITUDE OF EACH IS DIMINISHED IN OUR CONSCIOUSNESS BY THE SIMPLE VIRTUE THAT WE HAVE BECOME SATURATED. BECAUSE OF THIS, WE AT ZENRUPTION WILL BE PUBLISHING A DAILY CURATION OF THE EVENTS THAT HAVE BEEN REPORTED, FROM VARIOUS SOURCES, INCLUDING LEAKS WITHIN THE WHITE HOUSE, SO THAT WE CAN FULLY EXPERIENCE THE LEVEL OF DISASTER OUR EXECUTIVE BRANCH HAS BECOME AND THE IMPLICATIONS IT HAS ON ALL OF US. TODAY, JUNE 9, 2017

Check back often

and contribute!

By Jerry Mooney

From The Horse's Mouth (Trump tweets, then leaker tweets, then published reports)

Congratulations to Jeb Hensarling & Republicans on successful House vote to repeal major parts of the 2010 Dodd-Frank financial law. GROWTH!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) June 9, 2017

Despite so many false statements and lies, total and complete vindication...and WOW, Comey is a leaker!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) June 9, 2017

Great reporting by @foxandfriends and so many others. Thank you!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) June 9, 2017

.@RealDonaldTrump says "Comey's a leaker." A private citizen giving a friend private, non-classified documents isn't leaking

— West Wing Reports (@WestWingReport) June 9, 2017

If only Comey did something innocent, like blurt out Israeli intel to the Russians. https://t.co/XH1zu91bRg

— Matt Parthasarthy (@Matt4CT) June 9, 2017

Dear MSM, I am leaking a personal recollection of my visit to the WH last December. #ComeyLeaks pic.twitter.com/T8Jn8ABICG

— Matt Parthasarthy (@Matt4CT) June 9, 2017

Good for Trump there's no very clear and topical evidence of him using "hope" as a threat. Wait. https://t.co/Jx1xLgDYnO

— Chris Geidner (@chrisgeidner) June 8, 2017

GOP using Comey hearing/Russia as shell game. Dodd-Frank repeal is real focus & has been "close to #1" on list of priorities since election.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 8, 2017

So far during Comey hearing staff have taken 4 cellphones and 1 iPad away from Pres; he just can't help himself, he has to tweet.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 8, 2017

After Comey hearing Pres "doesn't want to hear another word about Russia - from anyone." Don't think that's gonna happen, Donnie.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 8, 2017

Pres says the result of the Comey hearing "means I'll be president for at least the next 8 years."

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 9, 2017

"And by total and complete vindication, I mean publicly shamed." https://t.co/z2gpynw0Ms

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 9, 2017

It rhymes with Crussia https://t.co/iHDJzdSAwg

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 9, 2017

After Comey hearing Pres wants to "double down" on Obama, says "we need to make clear who the real enemy is." Oh we know who it is, Donald.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) June 9, 2017

TRUMP: "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" REPUBLICANS IN CONGRESS: See, Trump was only making an "offer"; he didn't demand anything

— Judd Legum (@JuddLegum) June 9, 2017

His tax returns (twice) Preemptive NK attack bluff Location of US submarines Israeli intel on ISIS Privileged comms w/ Comey#LeakedByTrump

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) June 9, 2017

POTUS says everyone should move on after yesterday, but his top objective today is to find more ways to make Comey look bad.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) June 9, 2017

People leaking their own words to a free press is so elitist compared to a gold plated penthouse. https://t.co/wPNqX6OJyu

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) June 8, 2017

Quite the story from Nancy Pelosi about her first meeting with Trump—and his insistence that he won the popular vote. (via @Morning_Joe) pic.twitter.com/xvmCmJA6el

— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) June 9, 2017

Pelosi: Sessions must resign https://t.co/uiRszvGqqV pic.twitter.com/LmVkRHCpMm

— The Hill (@thehill) June 9, 2017

"Total and complete vindication"? More like total and complete incrimination. My take on Comey testimony: https://t.co/lUkDMSn0QM

— Max Boot (@MaxBoot) June 9, 2017

Do you think Trump understands what "vindication" means? It's not clear to me that he does. pic.twitter.com/ybh0rcNMh8

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) June 9, 2017

TRUMP: "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" REPUBLICANS IN CONGRESS: See, Trump was only making an "offer"; he didn't demand anything

— Judd Legum (@JuddLegum) June 9, 2017

Jobs where "I'm New At This" is acceptable... - Server - Retail - Entry level programmer - Cook Job it's not... - President Of The USA

— Tony Posnanski (@tonyposnanski) June 9, 2017

McInnis involved. I "hope" he "falls" down some stairs soon.https://t.co/6He8hstBCj

— Pesach 'Pace' Lattin (@pacelattin) June 9, 2017

If you believe Trump's lawyer, Comey must have secretly made up a fake story & then told witnesses & wrote memos about it contemporaneously. https://t.co/aXcecVqbTd

— Ted Lieu (@tedlieu) June 9, 2017

Let's not forget DAG Rosenstein wrote an entire memo used to mislead American people that Trump fired Comey b/c he treated Hillary unfairly.

— Ted Lieu (@tedlieu) June 9, 2017

Even the Tronc-owned right-leaning @LATimes - not part of the "liberal" media -- says you are unmatched for lying pic.twitter.com/78JrUdGS6L

— Jack Schofield (@jackschofield) June 9, 2017

Nixon was not personally under investigation for Watergate...until he was.

— Bill Kristol (@BillKristol) June 9, 2017

GREAT ANALYSIS for 2018. To retake the House, Dems don't need to convince Trump voters who would support Trump shooting someone on 5th Ave. https://t.co/BR8EqueVAn

— Ted Lieu (@tedlieu) June 9, 2017

I don't understand why local television & newspaper reporters aren't up in Senators /staffers faces & writing scathing stories every day @AP https://t.co/oeyPIqdqd7

— RiotWomenn (@riotwomennn) June 9, 2017

The grab-them-by-the-pussy video comes out. Trump: "This shows how much I love women. I'm vindicated."

— David Corn (@DavidCornDC) June 9, 2017

Full Grassley letter, which is a must-read: https://t.co/5DSh7cTzcr

— Chris Geidner (@chrisgeidner) June 9, 2017

Grassley: "Every member of Congress is a Constitutional officer ... all members need accurate information from the Executive Branch." pic.twitter.com/R28QUX1Sgw

— Chris Geidner (@chrisgeidner) June 9, 2017

Wow. Big deal. Very important vis-a-vis Mueller, but also as to the court and things Dreeben could be conflicted out from going forward. https://t.co/YjfcSC90a0

— Chris Geidner (@chrisgeidner) June 9, 2017

Former GOP congressman who called on Bill Clinton to resign and voted to impeach him --> https://t.co/dsKl9yCdfL

— Jake Tapper (@jaketapper) June 9, 2017

To help infrastructure firms navigate the federal bureaucracy, President is adding to it by forming an agency to help cut thru red tape

— West Wing Reports (@WestWingReport) June 9, 2017

My best Cap Hill source: (long time senior staffer). GOP not sure Trump will survive this. "We're preparing for all contingencies".

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) June 9, 2017

Trump "didn't know" we have troops in Qatar. He should know what countries we have our military in. Important for countless reasons. #resist https://t.co/QbgvMz9b8I

— Scott Dworkin (@funder) June 9, 2017

More importantly, Michael Dreeben is careful, meticulous, non-partisan, and fair-minded. His loyalty is to the Constitution alone. https://t.co/9a7jwHVH1K

— Preet Bharara (@PreetBharara) June 9, 2017

YES! We went there & saw the Taj Mahal. Ppl were all saying it looked exactly like Kremlin.It came out he was laundering Russian mob money! pic.twitter.com/6MyIXmhabf

— Wendy Marcinkiewicz (@WendyMarcinkie1) June 8, 2017

In past year Trump has threatened to sue everyone, it seems, but the Girl Scouts (perhaps WWR missed that one) - but never follows through: pic.twitter.com/AyrLUr6ra3

— West Wing Reports (@WestWingReport) June 9, 2017

The point of Comey's testimony wasn't to convict Trump-it was to aid and assist Mueller's case. He accomplished that.

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) June 9, 2017

Fun fact: Article II of Impeachment for Nixon was Abuse of Power. My #FridayFeeling is that @realDonaldTrump is in bigly trouble. https://t.co/d1VXUZwcvL

— Ted Lieu (@tedlieu) June 9, 2017

pic.twitter.com/M4CAXvwVWW

— Sarah Burgess (@sunkist111) June 9, 2017

.@RealDonaldTrump, who threatens to sue everyone (sexual misconduct accusers, NYTimes, etc.), but rarely does, now threatens to sue Comey

— West Wing Reports (@WestWingReport) June 9, 2017

Trump's lawyer threatens to file complaints against Comey. But they're both already DOA. By @christinawilkie https://t.co/TJQornwHTr

— Christina Wilkie (@christinawilkie) June 9, 2017

For Trump, the ‘Cloud’ Just Grew That Much Darker https://t.co/xU2K9pHX7f

— Nada Bakos (@nadabakos) June 9, 2017

Charm. Bully. Abandon. Sue. That's how @realDonaldTrump deals with problems. It's on full display with his actions toward Comey.

— Nancy Pelosi (@NancyPelosi) June 9, 2017

Dreeben is 1 of the top legal & appellate minds at DOJ in modern times (My admiration goes far beyond his 8-0 insider trading win in Salman) https://t.co/o1sGMwoZEQ

— Preet Bharara (@PreetBharara) June 9, 2017

It's true. https://t.co/dsicCwan8V

— Pesach 'Pace' Lattin (@pacelattin) June 9, 2017

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Also founder of Jerry Mooney Books