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bluejaysandblackbats · 1 month

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You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Four: No Man's Land (Terry McGinnis' POV)

I sat across from Jason, working on my history paper, struggling to write the page on how that applied to Gotham today. Jason sat behind his computer, transferring files using the scanner. “You look like you’re stuck on something. What’s up?” Jason asked without looking up.

“You were a kid during No Man’s Land, right?” I asked.

“I was in a coma, so I wouldn’t be much help there,” Jason answered. “I have a brother who was alive during that time… When’s the paper due?”

“Rough draft’s due Thursday,” I replied.

Jason checked his watch and pressed three buttons on his office phone. “Hello?” a man’s voice answered.

“Bernie? Bern, tell Tim to come to the phone. One of my kids has a few questions for a homework assignment. Let him know he doesn’t have to speak to me if he doesn’t feel like it. This is for the kid,” Jason stated. He pushed his hair back, shutting his eyes as he breathed through his nose.

“I’ll get him… Wait a second, okay?” the man whispered.

“Who’s Bernie?” I asked.

“He’s my brother-in-law… He’s a good guy. Phenomenal cook. My kids love him-. Loved… They loved him,” Jason mumbled.

“Jason, what’s this about?” a stern voice questioned.

Jason looked at me. “I’ve got a student here who needs to interview a person from Gotham who was alive during No Man’s Land,” Jason explained, “I was in a coma, but I figured you might remember something about that time.”

“I do… How’re you doing? Kenny came home from school last week and asked about you,” Tim whispered.

“Did he get my gift?” Jason questioned.

“He did. I think he’d rather see his uncle… And despite our problems, I see no need in you avoiding Ken. He adores you-.”

“You’re on speaker, and I-. You know why I stay away… Tell him I love him, and I’m proud of him,” Jason interrupted, “No more small talk, okay? The kid’s paper is due on Thursday… And I’m sure it’ll take time for him to take notes today.”

Tim cleared his throat. “Okay… Fine. Hi, I’m Tim, Jason’s younger brother,” Tim introduced himself.

“I’m Terry. I guess you could say I’m a client of Jason’s… Are you busy?” I asked.

“Not particularly busy… Jason called the right person. I was in Gotham when it started, and my dad pulled me out to keep me safe,” Tim explained.

“Let me see your history book for a second,” Jason whispered. I passed him my tablet, and he read the pages to himself. “This is Tim. He’s right here.” Jason showed me a billboard of one of the missing kids in Gotham.

“That’s your brother?” Terry asked.

“Jason, don’t tell him that-.”

“Yeah, the search for him was like a nationwide incident-.”

“Okay, Terry, you had questions about that specific time, right?” Tim asked.

Jason gestured for me to answer him. “Tim doesn’t bite. He’s harmless,” Jason joked. I grinned.

“Tim, how old were you at the time?” I questioned.

“I was fifteen,” Tim answered.

Jason typed something into his personal phone. “Can you describe life in Gotham before, during, and after?” Terry asked.

Tim described Gotham as a crime-ridden city with a system of order kept neat by vigilante justice and police work before No Man’s Land (NML). During NML, the only system was that of criminal persuasion. The government abandoned the people, who were forced to fend for themselves against the different factions of super-powered and gimmicky criminals in their respective areas. Tim snuck into Gotham after it’d been shut off and got stuck there. When he returned home to Gotham after everything opened up, Tim’s dad enrolled him in boarding school. “A lot of us didn’t adjust well to being back in Gotham, and tons of kids, including myself, didn’t finish high school,” Tim replied.

“What did you do?” I asked.

Jason stood up, leaving me in his office alone. “Family business… But Gotham saw the problem in the school system and made it easier for kids to go to school and get their GEDs, go to college, and do whatever they had to to get on their feet,” Tim replied.

“Thanks for the help,” I smiled, “I-. Is Jason by himself a lot?”

“Jason, isolates… It’s what he does. He’s-.”

“Dad, is that JT?” a voice in the background questioned.

“I’m talking to one of his protégés,” Tim answered.

“Tell the kid to tell JT that ice cream’s on the house,” the voice replied.

“Okay, Kenny… I will. Now, make sure your father doesn’t cause a three-alarm fire making pizza again,” Tim warned him.

“Can do… Pop! You don’t need to put gasoline in a wood burner!” the voice yelled.

“That’s my son… Um, how old are you?” Tim asked.

“Fourteen,” I answered.

“He wouldn’t have called me had it not been for you… Jason must really like you. I haven’t heard from him in years. So, it was nice to hear his voice today. He almost sounded happy,” Tim whispered. His voice was soft. “I’ve gotta go. It’s dinnertime, but I want you to know it was a pleasure speaking to you, and I hope you get an ‘A’ on your history paper.”

“Thanks, Tim… And I’ll pass along your son’s message. Bye,” I replied.

“Bye, Terry.”

Jason returned with pizza and a large to-go container of fries. “Your dad texted me. He’ll be home late, so you’re having dinner with me. I hope you don’t mind pizza, breadsticks, and french fries. I didn’t plan on eating dinner tonight,” Jason stated without thinking. “Did I-? I meant-. I planned on having a drink, a piece of cake, and going to bed. Did Tim give you all the info you needed for your paper?” He seemed frazzled.

I nodded. “Someone wanted me to give you a message. I think it was your nephew,” I mumbled. Jason shook his head.

“No… It’s okay. Don’t tell me,” Jason whispered. I wrung my hands. “I’m not upset with either of you. It makes things easier when I don’t hear from the kids. That includes Ken… He’s my favorite, so that makes it even harder.”

“Oh… I almost forgot to say I watched your cage match against Michael ‘The Meat Grinder’ Gallucci. I had to watch it like ten times. How’d you do that so fast?” I asked. I had to change the subject. And well… He owed me a story.

Jason ate a fistful of fries and pushed the to-go plate my way. “Mm… That was my first match, but it wasn’t where the move originated. My oldest son was the first one to do the Thunderclap. He was eight, and we were play-fighting on the living room floor when he put his hands together, swung back, slapped me on one side of my face, swung, and hit me on the other cheek. I was so stunned-. I think he was too. He didn’t mean to hit me. I think he forgot it was only a game,” Jason replied. I don’t think he was convinced. He knit his brows together, a pained expression painted by the wrinkles in his brow and the tightness of his lips. I wondered what bubbled beneath the surface of his mind. Jason was interesting. Sad… But interesting. “You gave me a look.”

“I-. Jason, can I be honest with you?” I questioned.

“I’d like that,” Jason replied, “Don’t pull punches. I can take it.”

“He hit you, but he didn’t forget you were playing… He got carried away, didn’t he? He had a history of getting carried away-.”

“He did, but he was my little boy, and I loved him. Something in him was just-. Terry, there are things you’ll never understand in life until you experience them for yourself. I hope you never have to experience that, though,” Jason interrupted, “But you’re right. I covered over the truth. That was a great observation. I don’t mind being caught in a lie, so you can call me out as much as you like. No hard feelings.”

The truth. So, I felt compelled to give him the same heartfelt honesty. “Your son was lucky… I-. My dad loves me, but sometimes I can tell he doesn’t understand me. Sometimes I feel like a stranger to him,” I mumbled, “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“I don’t think so… I don’t think parents and children are meant to understand each other… I think we’re meant to love each other despite the mystery. It’s easier to understand a complete stranger than to comprehend how a human you brought into existence, whose little face you washed and watched grow-. You wonder why they’re so different,” Jason whispered. His voice was soft and broken. It made me miss my dad. “Warren loves you more than most dads ever love their sons. I don’t know… It might be a psychological thing. Most dads hate their sons, but he adores you.”

“That’s nice to hear,” I replied.

“It’s the truth,” Jason stated. We both reached for a slice of pizza at the same time. “You remind me of myself, Terry… When I was young, I could’ve been anyone or anything. Don’t become one thing, Terry. You owe yourself more than that… Because once you trap yourself in one thing, it’s all you ever get. There’s no escaping it.”

“Did you get trapped in one thing?” I asked.

“Yeah, and I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape the ramifications of one misstep I made when I was fifteen,” Jason replied. And that stuck with me.

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ckret2 · 3 years

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GVK spoilers below, about conspiracy theories

I’m gonna get around to posting all my GVK reactions but this one got long so I’m putting it in its own post.

The Monsterverse series, in both KOTM and GVK, has some pretty interesting things to say about conspiracy theories and ecofascism; but, unfortunately, it doesn’t REALIZE that it’s saying any of them, so it keeps dropping the ball and missing opportunities to explore them.

Starting with KOTM, “there’s too many humans so we’ve just gotta let some die and that’ll fix pollution 🤷” is like false ecofascist claim #1 but at no point in the movie was it challenged as unfactual, it was just presented as a sad truth that people have to do morally ambiguous things about. Except that it’s just literally mathematically not true!

Emma could be such a GREAT, believable character—especially in this world with, like, frigging QAnon nonsense getting such widespread traction—showing a compelling, realistic tragedy of how this normal, intelligent, well-educated white mom who otherwise is likely left-leaning (pro-environmentalism, pro-nature conservation, got a doctorate and generally more academia correlates with more liberal ideals) got sucked into a far right ecofascist doomsday militia that combines hokey pseudo-environmentalist propaganda with “in balance with nature” semi-religious mysticism, because she was exploited at a time when she was emotionally vulnerable (when her kid had just died) and was lacking healthy emotional support (when her husband turned to alcohol and then ran off).

... Except the movie never says that her “overpopulation” beliefs are WRONG. It says that they’re RIGHT, and she was just forced to choose between two losing scenarios—deliberately kill most of humanity to hopefully save a few, or watch humanity kill itself.

Nobody bothers to mention that the size of the population isn’t the problem, it’s the disproportionate pollution coming out of first world countries. Nobody bothers to mention that when Emma talks about “overpopulation” and shows a screenshot of an overcrowded neighborhood, it ain’t affluent downtown skyscraper condos in Europe or America that she’s highlighting, but large masses of poor people whose neighborhoods look “dirty” to the white woman’s eyes, despite the fact that they’re contributing the least to humanity’s carbon footprint.

Emma’s beliefs are empirically wrong, and if KOTM had ever demonstrated that, it would’ve been brilliant. Instead, it tries to say “she was right, she just went too far,” and in doing so loses an opportunity to make Emma a deeply believable, timely, realistic, well-meaning but wrong villain.

And now we’ve got GVK, which has swerved away from the ecofascism but doubled down on the conspiracy theories. Here, Emma’s daughter, who was raised for five years with what amounts to a survivalist doomsday cult’s beliefs, when faced with the grief of her mother’s death and the struggle of trying to reconnect to her estranged father, turns—again—to conspiracies to make sense of the world around her. Because that’s what Madison’s been raised with, and even though she got disillusioned with the particular “we know something special that the normal people can’t handle” beliefs that she was raised with, that kind of thinking is still what she knows. She’s still doing what her mother raised her to do! She’s still pulling the “hypercompetent highly-trained lone wolf ‘survivor’ saves the world” shtick that Jonah’s gang taught her to do—but it’s never brought up that it was screwed up to raise a child like that and it’s screwed up for her to still be interacting with the world like that.

At least THIS conspiracy theorist isn’t literally advocating for global genocide. Bernie’s focus largely seems to be on “this corporation is trying to screw people over and screw up the environment—” (because in Monsterverse, as in Toho monster movies as a whole, kaiju/titans and the environment are symbolically conflated, so if a corporation is messing with Godzilla then they’re messing with nature as well) “—so I’m gonna find out what they’re up to and be a whistleblower.” Which is great! Solid start! We’ve got a guy taking aim at big business and who says “when the weather Godzilla acts erratic, it’s not random chance, it’s because a big business is doing something it shouldn’t,” so it looks like we’ve got a leftist conspiracy theorist, that’s different, could be interesting to explore.

Except then he starts talking about governments serving a “global elite” and facilities built by “lizard people” and then we’ve swung right back around to the far right by casually dropping in a couple of antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Add that in with the whole “hollow earth” thing and damn, we’re namedropping a lot of antisemitic conspiracy theories, aren’t we? Granted, most conspiracy theories ARE antisemitic—but like, they could have dug around for some that aren’t. Have him talk some more about Roswell. Have him bring up things that we’ve actually got documentation happened and theorize that MKUltra research was used in Apex’s development of their pilot’s psychic mind link to Mechagodzilla. Have him bring up tailor-made-for-the-Monsterverse conspiracy theories that don’t exist here, “Monster Zero is actually the secret weapon of a nearby ‘Planet X’ that’s gonna invade,” whatever. Instead, nah, we went with the antisemitic ones.

Now, do I think the writers behind KOTM and GVK intended antisemitism? Do I think they’re closet alt-right trying to dogwhistle the fascists in the audience? No, I think they think they’re making fun of—or playing around with—what they see as harmless, unbelievable, way-out-there conspiracy theories. I think they know just enough about “hollow earth” and “global elites” and “lizard people” to make references to them, but not in a way that promotes the common antisemitic understanding of those theories as true. (Monsterverse’s hollow earth, a weird underground jungle where King Kong lives, sure doesn’t resemble the usual conspiracy theory.) To me, the way they were used suggests the writers didn’t deeply understand (or at least, didn’t deeply think about) what the theories really mean—nor what they imply about the beliefs of the characters who espouse them. Which is the crux of my issue with how the movies deal with conspiracy theories and ecofascists and so forth (beyond the fact that, hey, I just don’t like seeing likable characters casually referencing antisemitic beliefs): the writers didn’t think about the implications.

Because these things do imply a lot! For example, if, say, Josh, total newb to conspiracy theories, had asked about lizard people, I would have grimaced to hear it but I would have believed that he’s a teen boy that picked up the term at school and doesn’t know anything about what’s behind it. But on the other hand, I can’t believe a guy so deep in the conspiracy theory world that he bathes in bleach doesn’t know exactly what those conspiracies mean—or, even if he does somehow staunchly refuse to believe that “lizard people” is a code for “Jewish people,” that whatever circle of conspiracy theorists he runs with doesn’t use it as a code. Bernie didn’t pick up those beliefs in a void. I really doubt that’s what the writers wanted to imply about the goofy likable underdog with a podcast.

And sure, the “global elite” and “lizard people” references are presented like a “haha look how far out his beliefs are” joke—the same as the fluoride reference, which is basically Hollywood code for “bogus nonsense only complete lunatics believe” thanks to Dr. Strangelove—but at the same time, they’re never really disproven. Nothing he believes is challenged. Nor are any of Madison’s beliefs that she’s picked up from him. Everything they both believe is either a “wow that’s wild” throwaway joke, or else they’re presented as totally right, e.g. about Apex being up to dubious crap that’s irritating Godzilla.

Just like Emma, who was presented as in the wrong not because she was incorrect but because she WAS correct but took the wrong actions. And just like Rick in KOTM, who kept bring up the hollow earth theory like a running joke but then the joke was that he was right.

And that’s at the root of the issues with both movies’ portrayals of conspiracy theories. Aside from the jokes that are never explored (and therefore, never disproven), the movies say that, every time it matters, the conspiracy theorists on the fringe are correct, the heroes that need to be believed. Even though all (excluding Rick) are characters who have suffered deep loss, who have been hurt, who you can imagine as passionate but grieving people who turned to dangerously wrong extremism in their search for meaning... the movies don’t portray them as people who have been led astray by their pain, but enlightened by their pain. Which is what they themselves think they are, sure, but that doesn’t line up with reality.

The movies never forces them to grapple with how far they’ve gone astray from reality—and I think they should. I’d like to see them processing the revelation that their beliefs are wrong. Whether it’s as big as somebody trying to convince Emma that killing half the population doesn’t fix the pollution caused by corporations rich enough to weather a global hurricane, or as small as Bernie looking at Apex’s financial records and realizing the company’s money is going to the CEO’s vacation home rather than a reptile government and deciding to rethink those beliefs after they’ve checked out Hong Kong.

“Conspiracy theorist is right about everything” is already a common enough trope that Monsterverse isn’t breaking any new ground with it. And in a franchise like Godzilla, whose movies are rife with messages both allegorical and literal about environmentalism, corporate exploitation, the futility of military action, international politics, war crimes... letting the conspiracy theorists be wrong and showing that they’re wrong and what that wrongness can lead to would mesh far better with the themes of Godzilla.

Think about Jonah and Emma unleashing Ghidorah (who emerged from a destroyed ice cap and immediately caused devastating hurricanes—a perfect metaphor for climate change), and what that could say about how ecofascists who purportedly joined the movement because they support environmentalism are actually far more in bed with the destructive industries really at the root of environmental damage... if the movie acknowledged them as ecofascists.

Think about how Jonah collected Ghidorah’s head at the end of KOTM and by the time of GVK it was in Apex’s hands, and how this exchange demonstrates that “I want to unleash titans to destroy humanity to save the environment” Jonah the ecoterrorist and “I want to beat the titans to protect humanity” Simmons the billionaire CEO actually have far more similar ideals beneath the surface of their opposed goals—ideals that have less to do with the environment or with humanity and more to do with securing personal power and control... if the movie had explained how this exchange took place.

Think about how Madison’s mother died trying to mitigate just a little of the damage she did under the thrall of a doomsday cult’s skewed beliefs, how even though Madison broke free she found herself embroiled in similarly skewed beliefs just three years later, and how powerful it would have been if she recognized that she herself had walked right back into the kind of fringe beliefs her mother had led her into as a child, and if she had then resolved to learn how this kept happening to her and break this pattern... if the movie had ever let her realize that she was making the same mistakes, or even acknowledged them as mistakes.

There’s so much potential there, so many things you can see happening right beneath the surface... but the movies never touch on them. And so it looks like, in Monsterverse, all fringe beliefs are either right or harmless. And we never get the “disillusioned conspiracy theorist” story that could be so brilliant and that, right now, would be so relevant.

#gvk #godzilla vs kong #gvk spoilers #godzilla vs kong spoilers #godzilla #kotm #meta

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amatalefay · 2 years

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I posted 599 times in 2021

19 posts created (3%)

580 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 30.5 posts.

I added 282 tags in 2021

#hadestown - 77 posts

#humor - 39 posts

#good things - 23 posts

#lit jokes - 23 posts

#greek mythology - 22 posts

#poetry - 21 posts

#little moments in history - 20 posts

#locked tomb - 20 posts

#lgbtqiap - 19 posts

#linguistics - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i start my medieval history and literature class tomorrow and you bet i'm gonna indoctrinate at least one classmate into listening to this

My Top Posts in 2021

I cannot tell you how satisfied I felt that my initial reaction to “Hobo’s Lullaby” is “this has a Hadestown vibe,” only for it to actually be a part of Hadestown Vermont 2007, although in retrospect I realize that the lines about hounds and “vipers at your heels” make it pretty obvious

also obsessed with the implication that Eurydice somehow gets out of Hadestown on her own at the end

31 notes • Posted 2021-04-23 21:33:32 GMT

I am His rib / I am a light I am, I am the living flame / I am, I am a blazing sun burning inside His name / I am illumination I am His rib / I am a light I am a little part of His light / I am going to be all right

I realize this edit is probably only of interest to me, @meetthefatess, and the like 5 other people in the In the Green fandom, but I really wanted to put together the cast recording and the 2017 version Grace McLean posted on her YouTube channel. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about—go listen to this weird medieval trauma-processing nuns in a cell musical!

(more audio edits)

48 notes • Posted 2021-01-06 22:17:20 GMT

Hades is king / Zeus and his pantheon of kin Of oil and coal / Take the first nine out of every ten And the riches that flow / Minas like lightning changing hands Where those rivers are found / It all returns back to his pockets in the end

(Come Home With Me/Soldier, Poet, King | more audio edits)

54 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 01:40:52 GMT

Down in the river of oblivion / Most every little life You kissed your little life goodbye / Is only struggling for gain And Hades laid his hands on you / And all that getting begets And gave you everlasting life / Only pain

But when you sacrifice / An everlasting overtime And give up giving into want / In the mine, in the mill, in the machinery You have nothing to lose / Your place on the assembly line If everything’s gone / Replaces all your memory

Inspired by this post by @ratcarney:

[Text: little life wants what way down hadestown ii has.]

(more audio edits)

55 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 20:24:03 GMT

imagine hades slamming down a stool, shouting “SING! for an OOOOLD MAN,” and sitting down... but then he sits like the bernie sanders mitten meme.

639 notes • Posted 2021-01-24 21:27:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #love that 4/5 of my top posts are hadestown posts #hadestown and itg #very on brand

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rileychester · 3 years

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So let me get this straight.

They have Ben and Callum get married with all their issues still there, don’t have them work on things to keep them distance for drama and cause of Covid.

Plus they are living on Stuart and Rainie’s living room floor with homophobic gran always making cruel jokes about their relationship and them being gay. With no mention of them getting their own place.

Then we don’t even see Ben and Callum being husbands in a Pride event. Not even them in the shirts, with smiles, and some distance romance moments.

Honestly I don’t know if they even showed any Pride events for any of the characters or just talked about them.

Only for June to be over, with news in the spoilers that some how Paul’s killers are getting out super freaking early. And it will probably be a lot of drama and pain for Ben.

So they have the homophobic killers getting out of jail early for Ben to live through that nightmare again. Callum is still dealing with his PTSD and his marriage is still a mess.

Bernie is going through a diet disaster storyline and forcing herself through all kind of stress cause her family money problems. Ash just lost her brother cause of cheap drama bs by the show. And all the pain that family must be going through.

Iqra, I don’t think sees her sister and she has the start of a relationship with Mila who went through her own vile tragedy trauma. The show barely shows them, compared to the Ballum pairing.

Forgot about Sonia, they have her dad come back into her life and cause trouble for her. Though that’s the most soap storyline that’s understandable. Crappy parents is EE’s thing.

Oh yeah and they killed Tina for cheap serial killer bs and everyone still doesn’t know she’s dead and there is no justice for her in the meantime. Plus Sharon and Phil hoisting all the Ian blame on to her.

Yeah sure EE is pro LGBT+ characters and pairings.

#eastenders #ee spoilers #eastenders spoilers #ballum #ben mitchell #callum highway #tina carter #ash panesar #bernadette taylor #iqra ahmed #mila marwa #sonia fowler #seriously what is this

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wander-over-the-words · 3 years

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Of Burlap and Brain-Teasers

Summary: Snippets of the life shared between Jonathan Crane and Edward Nygma. [50 Sentence challenge.]

Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow, unnamed policeman, Robin, Batman, Bernie, Query, Echo, Jon’s crow posse, Edward’s father, Harley Quinn, Edward’s tailor, Riddlerbots, Selina Kyle.

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma.

Warnings: alcohol use, bodily harm, firearm usage, mental breakdown, forced drugging (fear toxin), blood, NSFW topics; implied homophobia; mentioned death, smoking, murder, threats, kidnapping.

Notes: I’m a sucker for these stupid things, they’re a good challenge, and it’s been too long since I’ve posted anything, so here’s this. Based off things that have happened and things that will happen in my Scriddler series, with minimal spoilers.

A WanderVerse fic.

All material belongs to DC Comics (although my interpretations of the characters are used).

Link to fic on AO3.

…

1 - Comfort -

Edward knows this fix is temporary, but if downing a baby bottle of scotch will spare him the heartache of yet another of Crane’s rejections, then so be it.

2 - Kiss -

Their first is hilariously hesitant on Jonathan’s part, Edward can feel him berating himself for locking lips with a colleague; it serves as a preview of the breaking of barriers in their relationship, and that only excites Edward more.

3 - Soft -

Jonathan scoffs at the amount of lotions and potions Edward has in both bathrooms, but if they’re the things keeping his brown locks so pleasant for Jonathan to run his fingers through, then he never wants Edward to grow tired of using them.

4 - Pain -

It’s when Jonathan is complaining about his aching body that Edward grows most frustrated with Scarecrow as he simply can’t understand how Scarecrow doesn’t realise the damage he’s doing to the one he’s supposed to be protecting.

5 - Potatoes -

Edward looks over his shoulder at Jonathan and watches as he peels the spuds for dinner; there’s a joke about Jonathan’s childhood on his tongue, but he chooses not to share it and instead contemplates the domesticity of the situation.

6 - Rain -

The rain is heavy and litters the lenses of Edward’s glasses, but it doesn’t block the sight of the fear in the policeman’s eyes as Edward points his own gun at him, nor does it drown out Robin’s commands for Jonathan to keep his eyes open or Batman’s attempts to talk Edward down.

7 - Chocolate -

“Oh, fer God’s sake,” Jonathan says immediately upon seeing the bundles of flowers and boxes of sweets adorning his porch, each with a slip of card with a question mark stamped on (as if he needs to be told who has left these here).

8 - Happiness -

For the longest time, Bernie had been the only living thing that could lift Jonathan’s spirits when he’d been discontent; he can’t quite remember when it came to be that Edward is the second.

9 - Telephone -

“I took the liberty of putting my number in there, should you ever need me,” Edward says and ignores the incredulous look on Jonathan’s face at such a prospect as the scientist turns the gift over in his hands.

10 - Ears -

In the morning, they hear Edward only mumble sadly in response to them; in the afternoon, they hear revived determination in the form of a new plan to woo Jonathan Crane; in the evening, they hear him mope and whine about how that plan should have worked and surely, Jonathan is madly in love with him by now, and while Echo is perfectly content to help Edward think of the next plan, Query wishes he’d hike up his big boy pants and ask Crane out properly.

11 - Name -

“Perish the thought,” Edward replies to Jonathan’s dismissal, watching the murder of crows grouped before them, each bird with a different coloured tag on their leg, “I’d like to know their names.”

12 - Sensual -

It takes ages before Jonathan allows Edward to massage his shoulders like Edward had wanted, but when it finally happens, Jonathan is so relaxed that he almost falls asleep; Edward is certain that - besides sex - this is the most intimately Jonathan has ever been touched, and it makes his heart burst to know he’s the first ever allowed to.

13 - Death -

Edward and Scarecrow’s feud can end in no other way.

14 - Sex -

Of all the changes to Jonathan’s lifestyle that Edward has influenced, getting him from having sex four times a year to four times a week is definitely amongst Edward’s favourites.

15 - Touch -

That had been the first wall to break down and while it’d been far from demolished, Edward had known they were making progress when Jonathan had silently offered his hand to be held while they sat together reading.

16 - Weakness -

Edward observes Jonathan through the bars of the latter’s cell, watches Jonathan rock back and forth as he recites the periodic table to distract himself from the absence of Scarecrow’s voice in his mind, then he scoffs in disgust and inserts the key into the lock.

17 - Tears -

During the very rare times he cries, Edward always covers his face, turns away and demands nobody look at him, and this time is no different, so as much as Jonathan wants to continue taking in Edward’s (accidental) toxin-induced stupor, he has enough decency in him to do as he’s told, if only because it’s Edward.

18 - Speed -

“Jonathan, if you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving you behind,” Edward calls over his shoulder at his lover, who is too distracted by the fearful reactions of their victims to move right away.

19 - Wind -

“So, anyway,” Jonathan says as Edward continues to cackle at the mental image of Jonathan frantically chasing his hat while simultaneously being chased by Batman, “that’s why we don’t wear the hat anymore.”

20 - Freedom -

That’s one of the few things about Gotham that he truly, truly enjoys: the only reason he and Edward get looks during their (admittedly, few and far between) moments of PDA is because of their reputations, and not their genders.

21 - Life -

He’s far from dying of old age, but a part of Jonathan does wish he and Edward could have met sooner, if only so he could’ve spent a larger percentage of his time alive in their current situation, but he’ll take what he can get.

22 - Jealousy -

Edward resists the urge to laugh as he sees the way the gentleman’s gaze keeps drifting away from him; he knows Jonathan is staring at the unwanted visitor over his shoulder (because that’s all Jonathan needs to do), and suddenly Edward’s admirer is making excuses to leave.

23 - Hands -

Like the rest of his appearance, Jonathan’s hands inspire thoughts of stereotypical fairytale villains - with their slim palms and twig-like, scarred digits - but Edward can only smile as he plays with Jonathan’s fingers, for he is the only person that knows of the gentle and pleasurable touches they’re capable of.

24 - Taste -

Edward blanches and turns his head away from Jonathan’s to break their kiss, saying into the hand he uses to wipe his lips, “I told you, I hate when you smoke before kissing me.”

25 - Devotion -

Jonathan sits and points his gun at the back of the man’s head from the rooftop opposite the man’s window; it’s all he ever does, for only upon Edward deciding to enact revenge on his father or that he wants Jonathan to handle it will he go to meet Lawrence Nashton face-to-face.

26 - Forever -

“As has always been the way,” Jonathan replies to the drunken Edward, who casually tells him he’ll kill Jonathan if he leaves him.

27 - Blood -

He hasn’t felt fear in ages, but something makes him hope that that isn’t Edward’s own blood coating his back and dripping down his arm, but of course he knows it is, and Scarecrow confirms this by letting him listen to the echoes of pained screams as his scythe had cut through Edward’s flesh.

28 - Sickness -

“Die quietly,” Jonathan had told him amidst his coughing fit, and Edward lays in bed thinking of exactly which death-trap he’d like to stick Jonathan in, then Jonathan delivers to him soup made from a recipe from his childhood, and Edward decides that maybe he’d been too quick to think his lover so heartless (then Jonathan finds amusement in how Edward chokes on the soup’s spiciness, and Edward reconsiders the death-trap idea).

29 - Melody -

Edward plays his violin for himself, mostly, as the sound soothes his nerves and helps him calm; he opens his eyes to find Jonathan seated on the couch in front of him with a book in his lap - an excuse for coming out of his study, Edward knows - and Edward wonders, distantly, what it would take to convince Jonathan to duet with him on his guitar.

30 - Star -

Jonathan sighs irritably and eyes his research as Edward talks and talks and talks; why can’t Edward realise that while he may be the main character in his own mind, he is currently nothing more than an extra in Jonathan’s?

31 - Home -

Relief spreads through him as he first steps into the house after two weeks in Arkham Asylum, but all is not right until he hears Edward’s voice call out to him.

32 - Confusion -

“Yeah, Eddie, she’s, like, Doctah Crane’s favourite thing,” Harley whispers to him, and Edward has never felt more baffled as he watches the big, bad Dr. Crane coo at the tiny mouse that he’s happily feeding pizza crust to.

33 - Fear -

Of all the hundreds upon hundreds of reactions Jonathan has seen to his toxin, Edward’s is by far the most alluring and the most beautiful, and Jonathan simply can’t help but withhold the antidote for just a few minutes more.

34 - Lightning/Thunder -

Jonathan’s reflexes, however unnaturally graceful, are sharp and fast as he strikes at Batman with his sickle, which brings out more booming laughter from Edward at the other end of the room as he continues shouting encouragement to Jonathan to take the Dark Knight down (of course, the storm eventually subsides, and both are dragged back to Arkham).

35 - Bonds -

When most frustrated with Jonathan’s lack of affection toward him, Edward has to remind himself of one thing: Jonathan has had family (he thinks, Jonathan never talks about them), he has had friends (as much as he likes to say he only has Scarecrow), but he has never had a boyfriend before Edward.

36 - Market -

“Oooh, now this,” Edward says, holding the blood red fabric to Jonathan’s chest as Jonathan continues to frown at the wall, resisting the urge to kick Edward’s tailor away as she measures his leg, “this would look lovely on you.”

37 - Technology -

“I have just unveiled to you a technological marvel in the form of robots that understand and follow the concept of religion, in which they view not only me as their God, but you as their respective Jesus (obviously, without the father/son connection between us), in order to ensure that they will carry out our and only our orders, and all you can manage to reply with is ‘Hmm,’,” Edward rants, then turns to his group of Riddlerbots, “which proves to me, yet again, that my genius is wasted in this household.”

38 - Gift -

“Jonathan Crane of Earth, you have the ability to instill great fear,” Edward says, then makes a whooshing sound effect with his lips as he guides the replica, glow-in-the-dark Sinestro Corps ring onto Jonathan’s middle finger, “welcome to the Sinestro Corps - and happy anniversary, from your beloved Edward.”

39 - Smile -

The smile stretches thin and wide across his lover’s face, and Edward goes scrambling for his gun because he knows it is not Jonathan who smiles like that.

40 - Innocence -

Selina’s shoulders shake with oncoming laughter at Jonathan’s confusion then creeping realisation over the purpose of the vibrating, question mark-shaped item in his hand, then said laughter becomes impossible to hold back when Edward pokes his head into the room and says, “Oh, Jon, why’re you holding one of my vibrators?”

41 - Completion -

They would never say the other completed them (not without a great deal of sarcasm), but they have definitely brought...something to each other’s life that they would rather not do without.

42 - Clouds -

Edward has never thought much of fear toxin, but seeing the orange gas spread through Gotham’s streets on Halloween night only has him feeling elated at his lover’s success, and so he laughs behind his gas mask.

43 - Sky -

Their spot - atop the building that they had talked about pushing each other off of - quickly becomes one of Edward’s favourite places to be with Jonathan, despite the cold, for there is nothing up there but the air, the sky, and them.

44 - Heaven -

No such thing awaits them, even if they did believe, with all the things they’d done in their lives, but what they have now, together on earth, is enough for either.

45 - Hell -

“Ain’t nothin’ of interest down there; Scarecrow and I said a long time ago we’d never go back,” Jonathan says stiffly during one of the few conversations he and Edward have about Arlen, “an’ I have yet ta think of a reason we’d want to.”

46 - Sun -

Edward awakens early, Jonathan’s arm around his waist and nose pressed into his neck, and watches the light grow gradually behind their curtains, letting the minutes tick by, then he smiles lazily as he feels Jonathan begin to stir behind him.

47 - Moon -

A gap in their curtains lets the moonlight peek within, bathing Edward’s creamy skin and making it practically glow in a display of ethereal elegance, and Jonathan can’t seem to help but lean over and kiss the question mark tattoo on his bare shoulder blade as Edward continues to sleep.

48 - Waves -

“Jonathan Crane,” Edward calls from where he stands ankle-deep in the ocean, hands on his hips, “I did not whisk you off to Hawaii to watch you sit on your ass all day, so get out of that chair and join me in the water this instant.”

49 - Hair -

It might be because of his affinity for older men, but honestly, Edward loves the dashes of grey amongst Jonathan’s (already much-loved) ginger hair.

50 - Supernova -

The fuse had been lit when Edward had returned home to find his living room in tatters, Query and Echo injured and Jonathan missing; it had burned considerably when he found out the accomplices had had his Jonathan shot, but it had eventually run out when Jonathan’s fate had been revealed to him, and so nobody should have been surprised when Edward finally exploded.

#My writing #Scriddler #Jonathan Crane #Edward Nygma #Batman #Scarecrow #The Riddler #Harley Quinn #Selina Kyle #WanderVerse

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pers-books · 3 years

Note

How do you stay motivated to write for Berena? After the show killed off Bernie and a certain actress gaslighted fans I’m just left with a sour taste in my mouth. I used to love them but when I realised how much of a joke it was to tptb I stopped caring.

I guess it helps that I didn’t join the fandom until Berena was officially finished for canon. I’ve been declaring ‘Canon Schmanon’ in fandoms since I started writing for my very first fandom (Doctor Who), so I’ve pretty much spent my entire fannish life living in the land of AUs and canon divergences. As a writer and a reader this makes me very happy. I tend to think something along the lines of ‘Well, canon gave me these characters, but they’re *mine* now and I’ll do what I choose with them, and what I largely choose to do is handwave canon’. I believe it’s better for my mental health not to get hung up on canon if canon is hugely disappointing.

As for actors who gaslight their fans, well, I wasn’t a fan of hers anyway, whereas I’ve loved Jemma for years, ever since she swaggered onto my screen as Kate Stewart in Doctor Who and I damn near swooned out of my chair. Therefore, I was a lot less hurt by the gaslighting, which makes things easier for me.

I am sorry that the show has hurt you so much, though, Anon. I have been in your position and it isn’t easy to continue being fannish when the canon has spat on you and stomped your dreams to pieces. I cannot tell you how to cope with that, except that if you think you’ll be better off moving on, then you should, however painful you think it might be (and assuming you haven’t already moved on). You owe it to your mental health to protect yourself from further hurt and disappointment in whatever ways you can, and sometimes that means moving on from a fandom.

I will continue to write them until my Bitch Muse’s attention is grabbed by the next shiny object (yup, she’s got a magpie mind!). Mostly I am writing out of spite and sheer bloodymindedness and a love of Jemma Redgrave that surpasses any hurt I might feel at what was done to them.

#A Nonymouse #Ask and you shall receive - possibly!#Berena #Fandom Life #Goddammit Jemma!#Jemma Redgrave

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quakerjoe · 4 years

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One evening in the mid-nineties, Lynda LaCasse was smoking a cigarette on the front stoop of her apartment in Morro Bay, Calif., when she was joined by her neighbor and friend Tara Reade. It was an emotional conversation, encompassing custody battles and violence. According to LaCasse, Reade disclosed an incident that occurred when Reade worked for then-Senator Joe Biden in 1993: After she brought him his gym bag, he backed her up against a wall, kissed her neck and hair, put his hand under her clothes, and penetrated her digitally. “I remember the skirt. I remember the fingers. I remember she was devastated.” Reade had wept at the memory; LaCasse urged her to file a police report.

On April 27, Business Insider published this account, corroborating Reade’s prior testimony. LaCasse made it plausible, moreover, that she has no axe to grind: She is a longtime Democrat, with a history of anti-Trump posts on social media, together with recent praise for Biden as well as Bernie Sanders. She even said she still plans to vote for Biden. She also believes her friend Tara Reade should be heard; she believes her, period. “I have to support her just because that’s what happened,” said LaCasse, who added that she came forward without Reade having asked her to: “We need to stand up and tell the truth.”

Such evidence supplements several other accounts that corroborate elements of Reade’s story—from her brother, two anonymous friends, a former colleague, and footage from Reade’s late mother, who called into Larry King Live a few months after the alleged incident in 1993 to seek advice on behalf of her daughter.

Given this strong evidence, why are many people still refusing to believe Tara Reade? Among the primary reasons: an unwillingness to believe that Biden is “the type” and sheer political inconvenience.

We know, alas, that Biden is the type. He has sniffed and kissed the hair of the politician Lucy Flores. Six other women have testified to his touching and kissing them in ways that made them uncomfortable. We also have relevant footage. This is a man with a demonstrated history of handsiness—and a man who so does not understand boundaries that he made jokes last year about having permission to hug and touch people onstage after being confronted about his problem.

Yet Maureen Dowd wrote in The New York Times: “I’ve covered Biden my entire political career, and he is known for being sometimes warmly, sometimes inappropriately, hands-on with men and women. What Reade accuses him of is a crime and seems completely out of character.” Such sentiments betray a failure to understand that Biden’s demonstrably “inappropriate” behavior emanates from the same sense of privileged male entitlement that often underlies more serious sexual breaches, including sexual assault of the kind Reade alleges. The reporters for the New York Times article on April 12 first exploring Reade’s allegations in that venue made a similar mistake, when they initially wrote that they “found no pattern of sexual misconduct by Mr. Biden, beyond the hugs, kisses and touching that women previously said made them uncomfortable.” This is sexual misconduct, as was repeatedly pointed out on Twitter. (The paper subsequently deleted the “beyond” addendum—though without issuing a correction notice—leaving the sentence more coherent but less accurate.)

The firm conviction that Biden wouldn’t push boundaries in more serious ways, notwithstanding Reade’s corroborated testimony, rests partly on a misguided faith in his “good guy” persona, and a wrongheaded belief that only veritable monsters commit sexual assault. But as the Me Too movement has shown, many women’s monsters can seem like nice guys to the rest of us. And the number of true monsters—amoral, unrepentant psychopaths who do nothing but evil—is vastly outstripped by the entitled men who commit sexual assault with the blithe, deluded sense that she’s enjoying it, somehow.

According to Reade, when Biden assaulted her, he asked her softly: “Do you want to go somewhere else?” After she rebuffed him, he expressed disappointment and frustration: “Come on, man, I heard you liked me.” Then he pointed his trademark finger at her: “You’re nothing to me. Nothing.” Before walking away, he clapped her on the shoulders: “You’re OK, you’re fine.” Except, of course, she wasn’t.

For anyone who shares the widespread conviction that ousting Trump from office in November is a political imperative, admitting the credibility of Reade’s claims at this moment is painful and inconvenient indeed. There is nevertheless a moral obligation that we do so. If the Me Too movement means anything, it is that victims must not be swept aside and ignored, impugned, erased, and silenced when their claims are difficult to countenance—most notably, when the person they are accusing is someone we want to believe in.

We may want to believe in him for a litany of reasons: because we know him, because we like him, or because—as is the case here—we feel we need him to be innocent. But these reasons add up to little more than the basis for highly motivated reasoning: post hoc rationalizations for the foregone conclusion that of course he didn’t do it. As we have seen time and time again, such conclusions do a profound injustice to women, amounting to what the philosopher Miranda Fricker calls “testimonial injustice,” wherein someone is not believed because of her social position—in this case, being a woman in a historically patriarchal society, in which powerful and privileged men have long been deemed more credible in these sorts of situations.

Such testimonial injustice was typified, if unwittingly, by Joan Walsh in The Nation, when she wrote in the opening sentence of her recent column: “There is no evidence that former vice president Joe Biden, now the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee, sexually assaulted aide Tara Reade in 1993.” Reade’s testimony is evidence that the sexual assault occurred, though there remains room to disagree on its strength or probative value.

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ilikeyouxactually · 5 years

Text

Hiii friends, back with yet another Rocketman fic. (I’ll probably never stop at this point, sorry not sorry)

Read it on AO3 here —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945147

Title: And Our Lips Met

Summary: There had been several occasions where Elton so desperately wanted to kiss Bernie. Just grab his beautiful face and smother him in gentle kisses. So many times Elton wanted to confess his feelings—that he really cared for Bernie as more than just a friend. But the pure terror of being rejected, or even worse, destroying their relationship, was enough to keep Elton at bay. He’d suffer through those little, almost romantic moments they’d share, ignoring his feelings just to ensure Bernie stayed. The last thing they needed was for their friendship to be ruined. There goes America. There goes song-writing duo. There goes their whole fucking career before it even starts.

Notes: Please enjoy this bit of fluff on what I think could have happened between Elton and Bernie during the rooftop scene. As always, this is based only on the characters in the movie, not the real people. And of course a huge shoutout to my writing partner, Anna for always fueling me with new ideas. <3′

There had been several occasions where Elton so desperately wanted to kiss Bernie. Just grab his beautiful face and smother him in gentle kisses. So many times Elton wanted to confess his feelings—that he really cared for Bernie as more than just a friend. But the pure terror of being rejected, or even worse, destroying their relationship, was enough to keep Elton at bay. He’d suffer through those little, almost romantic moments they’d share, ignoring his feelings just to ensure Bernie stayed. The last thing they needed was for their friendship to be ruined. There goes America. There goes song-writing duo. There goes their whole fucking career before it even starts.

So when the two find themselves on the rooftop of Arabella’s flat, Elton sits back and admires Bernie going on about America. The alcohol they had over dinner had already started wearing its way out of their systems, slowly bringing them back to reality. Though, if Elton were honest, he wish they could’ve gone back to their adventure home. Bernie had his arm linked with Eltons, jumping and skipping through the streets, belting out songs so out of tune it made passerby’s stop and stare. They had knocked over more trash bins than Elton could even count. Surely there weren’t really this many bins in the streets?

Bernie had finally plopped down, sitting beside Elton, their thighs ever so gently brushing against each other. As if on cue, they both raised their gazes, taking in the absolute masterpiece of stars painted on the black sky.

“Wide open spaces,” Bernie finally spoke. A smile crept upon Elton’s lips, returning his gaze to Bernie.

“I just hope I’ll be good enough.” The confession was something that had been prodding Elton’s mind ever since Dick first announced their shows at the Troubadour. America was a huge step, a gamble. One that Elton wasn’t sure he was ready to take. Yeah, he and Bernie had some amazing songs—but what if he just wasn’t enough?

“You joking mate? Y’know you—you’re a shit hot piano player, and there’s something magical that happens when you sing our songs.” The compliment forced a rosy blush to creep up Elton’s neck, and god he hoped it was too dark to allow Bernie to notice. Elton could only smile in response because seriously what was he supposed to say to that? Bernie seemed to notice Elton’s sudden apprehension, and without a second thought brought a comforting hand to rest on Elton’s knee. “It’s time for you to be upfront.” It was almost a command. The burning in Elton’s chest was becoming too much to ignore. Perhaps Bernie was right. As if losing all control over his body and senses, Elton slowly leaned in towards Bernie. His stare was fixated only on Bernie’s eyes, searching for a sign, an affirmation—anything. When Bernie didn’t respond or pull away, Elton continued, gaze dropping down to Bernie’s lips. God those soft, gentle lips he had thought of so many times before. He swiped his tongue over his lips.

Could this really be happening?

Time seemed to stand still. Bernie still seemed like an eternity away, but—was he leaning in too? Elton’s eyes shot up towards Bernie’s, who’s were now shut, and he was definitely leaning in. This was it. This was the moment. Their moment. The one Elton had been dreaming of. Be upfront. Tell him how you feel.

“Eltooooon,” Arabella’s voice suddenly cracked like thunder, making Elton and Bernie jump. “Time for beeeed,” her sing-song tone was enough to make Elton’s stomach turn. Of all times. Elton let out a heavy sigh. The last thing he wanted was to be with Arabella.

“Guess you uh—better get to her, then?” Bernie’s voice was so soft and weak it left a pain in Elton’s chest. Maybe Bernie didn’t actually want whatever this was. Maybe he had just gotten too caught up in the moment, and Arabella was what pulled him back to reality. Elton hung his head low, toying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yeah, ‘spose you’re right.” Elton pushed himself off the ledge, about to make his way past Bernie, when the other grabbed his hand. Elton stopped dead in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Reg—I...” His voice trailed off, leaving Elton nearly breathless. Bernie almost never called him Reg, out of respect for his wishes on being called Elton. But the way Reg rolled so seamlessly off his lips, Elton hoped Bernie would say it again.

“Yes?” Elton asked, eyes quickly darting to his hand, which Bernie was still clutching.

“Just—don’t be so hard on yourself.” Bernie gave a gentle shake at Elton’s hand before releasing his grip. Elton’s heart sank. He offered Bernie a weak smile before retreating inside.

As Elton entered Arabella’s bedroom, he couldn’t help the sigh of relief upon the sight of a sleeping Arabella—an unfinished glass of wine at her bedside table. Thank god. Truthfully, Elton just did not have the energy for her, especially tonight. Arabella was a very kind, thoughtful person. She was nice enough to allow Bernie and Elton into her home, and almost never complained of the noise—except for just a few hours ago when Elton and Bernie had knocked over every single trash bin on the steps, probably waking the entire street.

But why Elton agreed to have Arabella as his girlfriend? He couldn’t for the life of him figure it out. Perhaps it was a chance to be normal? Maybe because it was nice to feel wanted? But as his heart longed for someone else, he couldn’t bear the thought of being with Arabella a moment longer.

Elton quickly changed into more comfortable clothes, a tee-shirt and a simple pair of pajama pants. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep any time soon, not with the millions of thoughts racing through his mind—Bernie, the rooftop, whatever the hell was about to happen between them before Arabella cut in.

It wasn’t abnormal for Elton to just pop into Bernie’s room at random. In fact, Elton was sure Bernie probably anticipated it most days because it happened so frequently. But for some reason, the short walk down the hall from Arabella’s room to Bernie’s felt particularly long. With each step, Elton could feel his chest growing heavier. He shouldn’t have been nervous. It’s just Bernie, he tried reminding himself. But, it wasn’t just Bernie anymore. It was Bernie, his best friend. His song-writing partner. The man he almost just kissed, and who almost kissed him back. It didn’t feel real.

Elton gave a single knock to Bernie’s door, not waiting for a response as he immediately let himself in. Bernie was sat at the edge of his bed, a notepad and pencil in hand, and god, Elton loved the sight of him writing. Bernie’s lyrics were always so beautiful, and they told a story. And whenever Elton laid eyes on them, he immediately picked up the tune. He wasn’t sure how that happened, maybe fate, or magic? But he hoped it never went away.

“Hey,” Elton offered weakly, shutting the door behind him. Bernie returned with his signature smile, and Elton’s heart melted. The notepad and pencil were set to the side, Bernie offering Elton a spot on the bed beside him. A hard lump formed in his chest. He made his way over the the mattress, sitting down carefully.

“Hey,” Bernie finally replied, once Elton was close. “Already finished with Arabella?” An amused smile on Bernie’s lips.

“She was asleep by the time I came down,” Elton explained, mindlessly picking at a hangnail. Anyone else probably would have felt uncomfortable by the small talk. But with Bernie, it was easy. Whether they were going on for hours about anything and everything, or just sitting in silence, it was all comfortable.

“You good?” Bernie turned so he was facing Elton straight on, face turned to worry. As much as Elton adored Bernie, he almost hated how Bernie could pick up on everything. He always knew when Elton was feeling down, or off. He supposed he should probably be grateful that someone paid such close attention to him.

Elton sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, rolling it carefully. Be upfront. The words rang through his head, his chest pounding. It was now or never. Without second thought, Elton grabbed Bernie’s face, smashing their lips together in a abrupt, sloppy kiss. Bernie jumped at the initial contact, but didn’t move away. Elton brushed his thumb carefully over Bernie’s cheeks, holding the kiss for just a few seconds more before pulling away. His face was flushed a deep pink, glasses now slightly eschew on his nose.

“I’m doing much better now,” Elton replied through swollen lips, smiling so wide it showed his teeth. Bernie looked stunned. He sat there, motionless, his lips also just as red and puffy as Elton’s and shit that was a good look on him. But his lack of movement or response was concerning, quickly bringing Elton down from the quick high of the kiss. “Are you okay?” Elton asked, about to scoot further away from Bernie, when suddenly the younger man grabbed his arm, pulling him back in for another kiss.

This time when their lips met, it wasn’t needy. It wasn’t desperate and sloppy. It was warm. It was collected. Bernie knew exactly what he was doing. His strong hand cupped Elton’s cheek, deepening the kiss. Elton hummed against Bernie, melting effortlessly into the other. His chest was ready to explode. Finally.

When Bernie pulled away, he rest his forehead to Elton’s, the two heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Elton couldn’t hide the big, goofy smile even if he tried, and he was relieved to find the Bernie was sporting one of his own.

“Doing great,” Bernie finally spoke, breaking out in a soft chuckle before placing a soft kiss to the side of Elton’s mouth. “I suppose you probably ought to consider talking to Arabella though.” Elton rolled his eyes, pulling Bernie back on the bed so they were both lying down in each other’s arms.

“I think that can wait for now,” Elton curled his fingers into Bernie’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss. He would never get tired of this.

#jess writes #my fics #rocketman fanfic #rocketman #elton john #bernie taupin #podrickpaynest

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this-is-krikkit · 5 years

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I want to joke more about it all, about the fact that in a small wlw community (esp when you keep killing off characters for shock value, just sayin) it kind of makes sense that you end up flirting with your ex’s ex/gf/whatever, that the writing doesn’t make any sense in this arc so why bother getting mad about this nonsense and that Alex is really a berena fan living the berena fan dream

but

I knew this was going to be all about the Man Pain, and still it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Serena’s own grief was completely occulted (apart from a couple of sad-ish moments, mostly she took care of Cameron and made some jokes at the eulogy like?? who are you and what’d you do with serena campbell) in favor of Cameron’s, and we didn’t really get to see a proper reaction to her finding out about Alex and Bernie. Like, I’m not saying I wanted her to lose it completely the way Cam did, but they went the exact opposite with her barely showing any emotion. I know they’ve been broken up for a while, but they went through a lot together and I just can’t fathom the “see, Serena’s fine about it” vibe I kinda got from those eps. And yeah, it could be a facade or denial, our bitch is the Type after all, but it didn’t feel like it what with the “force of nature” comment and its likes.

Now I might be blinded by my own grief rn, so I’ll need to rewatch them later (lmao no I won’t). But those are my morning after thoughts.

#berena #bernie wolfe #bernie wolfe deserved better #serena campbell #holdy city #cameron dunn #alex dawson #am i polluting the tags to cope why yes i am #wrote this half awake too

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nellie-elizabeth · 5 years

Text

The Big Bang Theory: The Maternal Conclusion (12x22)

Man, they really wanted me to feel emotional about these characters, didn't they?

Cons:

The thing about The Big Bang Theory is that sometimes it tries to be incredibly emotionally sincere, and it virtually never works for them. I can get behind some Howard/Raj friendship moments on occasion, but Stuart and his girlfriend whose name I can't be bothered to remember? Leonard and his emotionally abusive mother? Why and how am I supposed to form a connection to these characters and these moments? There's no real buildup. There's no hook to make me feel feelings.

Howard calls Raj an "Indian giver" at one point which is just... racism, ladies and gentlemen. I mean, this one isn't even subtle.

There's something very performative about the nerdiness on this show sometimes (most of the time). Stuart and his girlfriend making comic-book references to talk about how much they want to move in together is supposed to be cute and nerdy. But I'm a nerd and all of my friends are nerds, and none of us talk entirely in references. It doesn't work like that.

Pros:

Like I said, I can be down for some cute Raj/Howard friendship stuff. We find out that Anu is going to be moving for work, and Raj decides to propose to her and move to London. Howard is at first just going to let him go, but then he rushes to the airport to convince him to stay. Basically, we're going back to the same problem with Anu and Raj's relationship - they like each other just fine, but they're not really in love. I like the cliche of Howard stopping Raj at the airport. It's silly and overdone, but whatever. Everyone claps when they embrace, and even though Howard corrects them that this isn't a romantic reunion, there's not really a "haha no homo" sense to the joke, so that's okay. I also actually laughed out loud when Bernadette tells Howard to go get his best friend back, and Howard starts to tell Bernie "no, you're my best friend - " and she just interrupts him and tells him there's no time and he has to hurry. Howard runs off, no further questions asked.

I don't feel emotionally invested in Stuart's relationship, but I did like the comedy of Howard and Bernadette's house being everybody's hangout spot. Multiple people are adding things to the grocery list on the fridge, so much so that Bernie and Howard can't even keep track of people's handwriting. That was amusing.

I can't really be fussed to feel emotional about Leonard and his mother having this big moment of forgiveness, because I don't think that she deserves forgiveness, and I don't understand enough about this situation to know why Leonard giving her forgiveness is helpful for him. But that said, I did appreciate the acting in these scenes, and I liked that Leonard's pain wasn't played strictly for laughs. I also like that Penny continues to advocate for her husband while also respecting his boundaries.

So... yeah. This episode wanted to be a big deal, but it's really just kind of par for the course, unfortunately. I didn't hate it, but it's not like I'm going to be thinking about it in the weeks to come, either. The end is in sight!

8/10

#review #big bang theory #big bang theory review #the big bang theory #the big bang theory review #bbt

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uglypastels · 6 years

Text

When You Say Nothing At All - Tom Holland movie AU (2/3)

Part 2

(a/n) I don’t think I actually have anything to say about this...

word count: 8184

warning: swearing; mentions of divorce, infertility, the dark side of fame; sexual themes; SPOILERS FOR NOTTING HILL

part 1

Tom’s POV - 1999 - London - Characters are in their late 20′s It had easily been the most painful hour of Tom’s life. All of the actors he had met, looked at him as if he was crazy or stupid. Tom couldn’t decide which was worse. But he knew they weren’t wrong.

He walked out of the last interview he had done. It was with a young child actress that clearly already at the age of twelve had her life more put together than he would ever have. It was clearly already getting late, as the crew had started to pack up and most journalists had already left. Tom was also more than ready to leave this suite. He never wanted to come back again.

He was almost at the door when Karen’s voice sounded from the end of the hall. “Mr. Holland,” she called him out. Tom stopped in his tracks, mumbling “Oh, no” a bit too loud. He slowly turned around. Karen was looking at him brightly. “Have you got a minute?”

“No.,” he said honestly. Karen, fortunately, heard it as a joke and broke a little laugh. Defeated, Tom followed the assistant to a room, in which he surprisingly had not been in yet. He wondered how many rooms there could possibly be in this suite alone.

She opened the door for him. Tom’s face lit up with a smile at the sight in front of him. (Y/N) got up out of her chair when she saw him. Her suit jacket lay somewhere abandoned. Her long hair loose. She said a small “Hi”. The door closed behind him. He didn’t even look. They were finally alone again. Had she asked for him? Probably. Tom did his best to hide his excitement. He also responded with just a “Hi.” For some reason, (Y/N) looked nervous. He didn’t understand why. It was just him.

“Uhm… Yeah, so, the, um…” She started mumbling. It was cute, Tom thought. “The, the thing I was doing tonight. I’m not doing anymore. I told them I had to spend the evening with Britain’s premiere equestrian journalist.” She smiled.

“Oh,” Tom smiled too. “Well, great. Fantastic.” He already started to think where he could take her this evening. Of course, nothing would probably even come close to what she was used to. He barely could afford to eat himself. Dinner...oh no! He completely forgot.

“Shit. It’s my brother’s birthday. Shit.” He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “We’re meant to be having dinner.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” she said, not seeming to be very bothered by the fact.

“No. I’m sure I can get out of it.”

“No, I mean, if it’s fine with you, I’ll be your date.” Had he heard that correctly? Did (Y/F/N) really just suggest to be his date? He looked at her with wide eyes. “You’ll be my date to my little brother’s birthday party?”

“If it’s alright.” She looked a bit concerned. He must have sounded rude.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure it’s all right. My friend Max is cooking,” he remembered, “and he is generally acknowledged to be the worst cook in the world, but you could hide the food in your handbag or something.”

“Okay.” she genuinely seemed happy to go.

“Okay.”

Tom had asked (Y/N) if it would be okay if he picked her up at eight. She had simply nodded and then her publicist walked in, saying that she had a sudden interview in two minutes and had to get ready.

When he got back home, Tom called Bella, Max’ wife to check if it was okay if he brought a date. The party would be held at their place as it would be very likely that Max could burn down the kitchen in an attempt to cook. So it would be better if it wasn’t someone else's.

(Y/N) stood next to him as Tom rang the doorbell. She looked very casual, but still very fabulous. Her hair was up in, what he thought was called, a milkmaid braid. She was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, over that a light jacket.

The door opened. Max had not even come up to it. Just opened it as soon as he could reach the handle, and walked away immediately after it. “Hi, come on in. Vague food crisis.” He disappeared back into the kitchen. Tom looked at (Y/N), who was in a small shock. They laughed together and stepped into the house. Tom, of course, let her walk in first.

“Hiya,” Bella said from the living room, they followed her voice. “Sorry, the guinea-fowl is proving more complicated than expected.”

“He’s cooking guinea-fowl?” Tom asked. It was a classic move for Max, to cook something he could barely even pronounce.

“Don’t even ask.” Bella rolled her eyes. Then, she noticed (Y/N). they both said hi and shook hands. Then, Bella’s eyes widened. “Good lord, you’re the spitting image of…” before she could finish, Tom said: “Bella, this is (Y/N).” he introduced his date to his friend. Bella scoffed in disbelief and answered with a “Right.”

“Okay, crisis over!” Max could be heard out of the kitchen. Bella’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N).

“Max, this is (Y/N).” He put his hand on her back, and lead her to the kitchen, where Max was fanning away some smoke erupting from the oven with a hand towel. (Y/N) gave him her hand and said a small “hi” still remembering her entrance.

“Hello, (Y/N)...(Y/L/N).” Max seemed to be in a small state of shock, realizing whose hand it was that he was shaking. “Have some wine.” he smiled nervously.

“Thank you,” she said. Then the doorbell rang and Max, being the good host, excused himself to welcome their next guests. While he was gone, Tom thought it would be quicker if he poured the drinks. “Red or white?” he asked. She was about to answer when Tom’s brother, Patrick, walked in.

“Hi guys,” he seemed excited, probably ready to give Tom a tight hug. Then he saw (Y/N). “Holy fuck!” Tom felt like he was the one that was supposed to break the ice in this situation.

“Paddy, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Paddy - Patrick. He’s my baby brother.” (Y/N) was looking at him and her expression softened when she knew what was going on, she turned around to Patrick, who was holding a hand in front of his mouth in shock. “Hi.” she smiled.

“Oh god. This is one of those key moments in life when it’s possible you can be really genuinely cool and I’m going to fail just 100%.” (Y/N) looked very confused at the younger man in front of her. “I absolutely adore you.” he took a few steps to her. “And I just think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Tom looked at (Y/N) while his brother was having his little moment. She didn’t seem mad that Patrick was technically confessing his love to her, but she wasn’t very comfortable with it either.

“And I’ve believed for some time now, that we could be best friends.” Well, that was not as bad as Tom had expected. “So what do you think?” (Y/N) looked at Patrick rather flabbergasted. She mumbled a few uhh…’s before saying: “Lucky me.” She cleared her throat and remembered she had a present for him. Tom had told her that she didn’t need to bring him anything, but she had insisted.

“Happy birthday.” She handed him the small box. Patrick actually gasped. Tom wasn’t sure when the last time was that he watched his baby brother act like that. It was like he was twelve all over again.

“We’re best friends already, then.” he smiled. Then, his eyes lit up, “Marry Tom, he’s a really nice guy, then we can be siblings.” Tom laughed awkwardly. Thinking, if he would slam his head hard enough on the cupboard, would he maybe pass out? This was getting a bit too much. (Y/N) smiled politely and responded with: “I’ll think about it.”

The doorbell rang again, releasing a bit of the awkward tension in the room. Max sighed: “That’ll be Bernie.”

Bernie walked into the living room, holding some shapeless purple package, that was probably Patrick’s birthday present. Max introduced (Y/N) before Tom had the chance.

“Hello, (Y/N). Delighted to meet you.” They shook hands for a second and then Bernie immediately walked to Patrick. “Pads, happy birthday to you.” he sang. He said a quick “Hi” to Bella. Patrick looked interested at the strange package that was now in his hands. “It’s a hat,” Bernie explained. “You don’t have to wear it or anything. Hi Tom.” Bernie walked around, grabbing a handful of peanuts that were displayed on the table as a casual snack. Everyone looked at him, awaiting a moment of realization and shock about who was standing in front of him, but nothing happened.

“Hi,” Tom repeated, a bit awkwardly.

“What?” Bernie saw how everyone was looking at him. Then Max moved into action. “Wine, Bernie?” Bernie hummed a yes. Max picked up a glass from the kitchen and then pulled Tom away from the rest, to the corner of the room where all the alcohol for the night was laid out.

“You haven’t slept with her, have you?” The sudden question startled Tom a bit, almost making him burn his hand from the match his was holding.

“That is a cheap question and the answer is, of course, no comment.” they had been doing this to each other ever since they met, years ago. The answer always stayed the same, whether it was true or false.

“No comment means yes.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He looked at Max, again almost burning his fingers while he tried to light another candle.

“Do you ever masturbate?”

“Absolutely no comment.” He looked away from his friend.

“You see, it means “yes”.” Max walked away with the wine bottle. Tom followed, not being done with the conversation. They soon did change the subject, getting a bit too uncomfortable with the last one. From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) talk to Bernie. He couldn’t hear what they were exactly talking about, but at a certain point, he saw Bernie widen his eyes… almost as if in horrific shock.

“Right, I think we’re ready.” Max clapped his hands. Bella and Patrick were already at the table. (Y/N) turned around from Bernie and looked down at Bella. “Bella, can you tell me where I can find…”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, yeah. It’s down the corridor on the right,” she said, understanding the problem without it being said. Patrick got up.

“I’ll show you. I’ll show you.” Tom almost choked on his drink. What was Pads doing? Before he could stop his younger brother, unfortunately, he had already walked into the corridor. (Y/N) walked behind him, smiling nervously at Tom. He smiled back, reassuring her it was gonna be fine. The moment she was in the corridor too, Bella and Max gathered around him. In a quick and hushed voice, she said: “Quickly, quickly, quickly. Talk very quickly. What are you doing here with (Y/F/N)?”

“(Y/F/N)?” Bernie said out loud, “What, the movie star?” Max and Bella tried to shush him. Bernie hit his head with the palm of his hand. “Oh god. Oh goddy God.”

“What did you say to her?” Tom asked scared. Right then, Patrick walked back in. His face almost the same color as the hideous red-orange shirt he was wearing.

“I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it. I actually walked into the loo with her.” Tom felt like he was about to faint. His brother just harassed his date, great. “I was still chatting when she started unbuttoning her jeans. She had to ask me to leave.” Max started laughing. In any different situation, Tom would have laughed too at the idiocracy of his little brother, but this was not okay.

“So you knew who she was?” Bernie asked Patrick, who was now laughing along with Max.

“Of course I did, but he didn’t!” he started to laugh at Bernie, who rolled his eyes.

“Well, not instantly, but I got away with it though.” Tom slightly started to wish he hadn’t brought her with him.

Those thoughts did slowly fade, once dinner had actually started. The guinea-fowl had not been a complete disaster. The six of them were now talking and laughing about nonsense. Max left the table momentarily to get the cake.

“So, how’s the guinea-fowl?” he asked from the kitchen. He wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, but Tom knew it was mostly intended to (Y/N). She smiled and said: “Best guinea-fowl I’ve ever tasted.” That was a bit strange of her to say, Tom thought, as he had not seen her eat the poultry and he was pretty sure that he had read somewhere that (Y/N) was vegetarian. Anyway, he appreciated it how she didn’t want to hurt his friend's feelings.

Patrick put on the horrible blue hat that Bernie had given him. It looked horrendous, but he somehow pulled it off. There were many more laughs after Max had brought out the cake and the brownie. Patrick had blown out the candles and then they talked more while popping celebratory crackers. Tom couldn’t help it but gaze over at (Y/N) from time to time, who was sitting right opposite him. She didn’t say much through the whole evening. She mostly just observed while the others held their conversations. He doubted that she had many chances in her life to just do simple things like that: sit around a table with close friends and laugh. Nothing specific on anyone’s mind, while they stuff themselves with slightly overbaked cake.

“Having you here, (Y/N), firmly establishes what I’ve long suspected, that we really are the most desperate lot of under-achievers,” Max said as he shoved another piece of brownie into his mouth. Tom agreed. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Max added. “In fact, I think it’s something we should take pride in.” He looked as Bernie handed the plate of brownies to Tom and he, in his turn, gave it to Patrick. “I’m gonna give the last brownie as a prize to the saddest act here.” He smirked. Everybody was getting a bit excited, already thinking of some sad stories in their lives, in a chance to getting that brownie… at least, that’s what Tom was doing.

“Bern?” he suggested his friend goes first. Bernie looked surprised at the call of his name. Max, Bella, and Paddy started laughing. (Y/N) had also giggled a little bit.

“Alright, alright. Well, obviously it’s me, isn’t it?” he said, almost inaudible because of the piece of brownie still in his mouth. “I mean, I work in the city in a job I don’t understand and everyone keeps getting promoted above me. I haven’t had a girlfriend since, well, since puberty.” He swallowed the rest of his brownie. “And nobody fancies me...and if these cheeks get any chubbier, they never will.” With that, he put the last piece of his own fudge brownie into his mouth.

“Please, unless I’m much mistaken, your job still pays you rather a lot of money.” Max commented once Bernie was done pitying over himself, “While Paddy here earns twenty pence a week flogging his guts out in London’s worst record store.”

“Yes!” he agreed. “And I haven’t got hair, I’ve got…this” he pointed around his head. Tom had to admit, it looked rather tragic. “And I’ve got funny looking eyes and I’m attracted to cruel women. Actually, no one would want to marry me because my balls have actually started shrinking.” everyone laughed.

“You see, it’s incredibly sad,” Max concluded.

“Yeah, but on the other hand, his best friend is (Y/F/N),” Bella added.

“That’s true. I can’t deny it. She needs me. What can I say?” Paddy smiled while taking a tug at his cigarette.

“And most of her limbs work, whereas I’m stuck in this thing day and night, in a house full of ramps.” Bella sighed. “And to add insult to serious injury, I’ve totally given up smoking, my favorite thing. And uhm…” she looked at Max, who smiled at her lovingly, “Well, the truth is, we can’t have a baby.” A silence around the table fell. Tom shared a look with (Y/N), who was sitting right next to Bella and Max.

“Oh, Belle,” Tom felt so sorry for his friend. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

‘C’est la vie.” she sniffed. “Still, we’re lucky in lots of ways. But surely that’s worth a brownie.” She smiled.

“Well, I don’t know.” Max leaned forward in his seat, “Look at Thomas.” Tom laughed, knowing what will come next. “Very unsuccessful professionally.”

“That’s true.” Bella and Patrick agreed. Tom hoped that (Y/N) somehow managed not to hear any of this. Although, that was very unlikely to happen. His friends continued bashing his life. “Divorced. Used to be handsome, now kind of squidgy round the edges.” Max specifically looked at (Y/N) while he said this last part. She laughed with the rest. “And absolutely certain never to hear from (Y/N) again once she’s heard that his nickname at school was Floppy.” Before Max had finished the sentence, Tom tried to stop his friend, but he only said it louder, accompanied by Bernie.

“You did. I can’t believe it, you did.” His friends laughed even louder. “Thanks very much. Thank you.” he bowed down in his seat. “Well at least I get the last brownie, right?” he was already leaning forward, trying to reach the plate, when (Y/N) stopped him: “Well, wait, what about me?” The rest stopped laughing and looked at each other, a bit surprised. Even Tom had not expected her to join in.

“I’m sorry?” Max asked, “You think you deserve the brownie?”

“Well, a shot at it at least, huh?” she looked around the table, lastly at Tom. “Right, well, you will have to prove it,” he smirked, the brownie still in his hand. “I mean, this is a very, very good brownie and I’m gonna fight for it.” She thought for a moment and then started naming a list, that was, even for Tom, a bit too long: “I’ve… been on a diet every day since I was 19, which basically means I’ve been hungry for a decade.” she laughed, giving the rest an OK to join her. “I’ve had a series of not so nice boyfriends, one of whom hit me… And every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it’s entertainment.” she gave a nervous laugh, the rest didn’t. Too captivated by her sad story.

“And it’s taken two rather painful operations to get me looking like this.”

“Really?” Paddy sounded fascinated.

“Really.” (Y/N) said, pointing first at her chin, then at her nose with a sly smile. “And one day, not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can’t act, and I will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.” Her eyes were transfixed onto one of the candles that stood on the table. Bella put down her cup and looked sadly at her, so did Max. From his angle, Tom couldn’t properly see what Patrick or Bernie were doing, but from his own actions and those of his other two best friends, he could assume it was something like it. Max stroke his chin, as if in deep thought.

“No, nice try, gorgeous, but you don’t fool anyone.” She started laughing at Max.

“Pathetic effort to hog the brownie.” Tom joked. On the inside, he wasn’t very sure if it was appropriate, but she kept smiling.

Not much later, it was already getting late and it was time for Tom to take (Y/N) back to her hotel.

“Thank you for such a terrific time.” She shook hands with Max and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Max had wanted to say that he was delighted but suddenly fell very still. “That’s a great tie.”

“Now you’re lying,” he spoke.

“Okay, it’s true. I told you I was bad at acting.” She walked over to Bella. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“And you, and you. I’ll wait until you’ve gone before I tell him you’re a vegetarian.” Bella smiled. Max, who had been re-adjusting his tie, almost choked on it when he heard his wife say this. With terror in his eyes, he apologized. (Y/N) smiled and then walked to Patrick and Bernie. “Goodnight.”

“Look, I’m so sorry about the loo thing.” Tom wished he wouldn’t bring it back up again. It was already rather uncomfortable. “I meant to leave, but I just…”

“Happy birthday.” She said before Paddy would dig a whole he couldn’t get out of. He thanked her. “Sorry, can I just,” he gripped her in a small embrace. This was a definite sign for Tom to go.

“Leave her,” Tom pulled his younger brother off of her and lead (Y/N) back to the corridor. They all said “Bye” a few more times until the door between them was definitely closed. Tom and (Y/N) were already walking away when the sound of people laughing and screaming loudly could be heard from the inside of the green house. (Y/N) started to break out laughing too.

“Sorry. They always do that when I leave the house.” Tom joked. “It’s a stupid thing. I hate it. They continued walking, in silence once the screams of his friends died down.

“Floppy, huh?” she asked curiously, looking ahead.

“It’s the hair. It’s to do with the hair,” he explained. Tom saw on her face that there was another question she wanted to ask. “Why is she in a wheelchair?”

“Because she had an accident about 18 months ago.” He looked down at the ground, not sure if his friend wanted him to tell (Y/N) her whole story. He simply kept to the very basics of it.

“And the pregnancy thing, is that to do with the accident?”

“You know, I’m not sure. I don’t think they tried for kids before, as fate would have it.” They walked on in silence. It was not exactly the silence that would be called uncomfortable, but it was not the silence that you want to keep for long. It was a silence that Tom had a need to break. Just didn’t know with what.

“Do you want to…” he started talking before the full question actually had formed in his mouth. She looked at him, waiting for Tom to finish the question. “My place is just…”

“Too complicated.” She said. There were no clear emotions in her voice or her face. Yet, still, Tom understood what she meant.

“That’s fine.” He put his hands in his pockets. Feeling a bit stupid he had asked her in the first place.

“Busy tomorrow?” She asked. He looked up at her, surprised.

“I thought you were leaving tomorrow.” they looked at each other and she smiled. “I was.”

They walked on, the streets were dark for the most part. Some bits lit up with the old lanterns and some lights coming from the houses around them. Tom was not sure how late it was. It didn’t feel past midnight, but it just as well may be already 3 in the morning.

“All these streets round here have these mysterious communal gardens in the middle of them.” He told her, while they passed a wall of bushes and hedge, separating two houses on either side. “They’re like little villages.

“Let’s go in.” She said when they were in front of the gate. It was towering above them, a big lock on eye height.

“No, that’s the point. They’re private villages. Only the people who live around the edges are allowed in.” She turned to look at him, looking a bit disappointed.

“You abide by rules like that?” She raised an eyebrow mockingly.

“I don’t, no, no, but others do.” He started walking up to the gate. “And I just do what I want.” Tom pulled at the gate. It moved around but it was still far from opening. He saw that a part of the fence which was normally covered with ivy, was a bit visible, making it hopefully easier to climb over it. “Uhm… right.” He pulled his leg up on a horizontal bar in the fence and started to pull himself up. He could already look over it when he felt his leg slip up. He could just manage to not fall on the ground. With a ground he kept his balance, mumbling a “Whoopsie-daisies.”

(Y/N) was laughing. “What did you say?” He turned around.

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She smiled knowing very well what he said: “You said whoopsie-daisies.”

“No one says whoopsie-daisies, do they? I mean unless they’re…”

“There is no “unless”. Because no one has said whoopsie-daisies for 50 years. And even then it was just little girls with blonde ringlets.” She could barely make out the words while laughing. Tom, feeling extremely embarrassed, just nodded and said: “Exactly, right.” He glanced at the gate, then at her, then at the gate again. “So here we go again.” He gripped the bars tightly and tried to pull himself. Alas, once again, he felt his legs slip and he fell against the wall of ivy that covered the rest of the iron fence. “Whoopsie-daisies,” he exclaimed as he this time really fell on the ground. (Y/N) laughed loudly at his actions.

“Yeah, well, it’s a disease. It’s a clinical thing.” He got up and turned to her. “I’m taking pills and having injections. And I’m told it won’t last long so…”

“Okay, stand aside,” she shooed him away. Tom did as she told him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said as she was eyeing down the fence. “Really, it’s quite tricky. (Y/N)... (Y/N), don’t, it’s harder than it…” She was already at the top and pulling her leg over the fence. “No, it’s not. It’s easy.” She got her second leg over it and jumped down on to the little wall next to the gate. She held onto a thick tree branch to keep her balance.

“Come on, Flopsy.” She said, looking ahead of her and leaving Tom behind the gate.

“Right. Right!” He could do it. He had to do it. He couldn’t leave (Y/N) alone in the garden. For the third time, he gripped onto the bars at the top of the fence and pulled himself up. With a groan, he managed to stay up there. Now was the really hard part. He had to manage to get over to the other side. He tried not to think about the spiked bars that were right underneath him while he pulled his leg over the fence.

“Oh, God. This could be very unpleasant.” He said to himself. He managed to get one leg over it. Now the other one and he would be there. OK. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his other leg over the fence. Then he could feel his hand slip from one of the iron bars. He swung a bit to the right, hitting his knee on the gate. He groaned in pain.

(Y/N) was standing a few feet away from him. In an open space of the garden. She was turned with her back to him.

“Now what in the world in this garden could make that ordeal worthwhile?” He said as he reached her. His knee still hurt, but he tried not to think about it. (Y/N) turned to him and kissed him. It threw him off a bit. Why did she have to kiss him everytime he wasn’t ready? Once, just once, he wanted to be the one to make her feel like that.

She pulled away before he could do anything, and smiled. Tom felt his cheeks heat up a bit. “Nice garden.” He had to keep it a bit cool. She rolled her eyes and pulled his hand as she started walking. He hadn’t even noticed when she grabbed it.

They walked around for ages. Talking about nothing and everything. They looked around, even though there was barely anything visible in the dark. Finally, they stopped in front of a wooden bench in the middle of a clearing. A lamp behind them made it possible for them to see the engraving that was added to the backrest. (Y/N) read it out loud: “For June who loved this garden, from Joseph who always sat beside her.” underneath that, stood: June Wetherby 1917 - 1992, with a shamrock. She looked at it amazed, while Tom couldn’t keep his eyes from her. She looked so beautiful in the night light. The one street light illuminating her profile and making her eyes sparkle.

“Some people do spend their whole lives together.” she gasped and sat down on the bench. She looked at the sky. There weren’t many stars visible, due to the clouds and light pollution in general. Tom stood there, a few feet away from the bench. His legs started to move backward. It felt like she wanted to be alone.

“Come and sit with me.” She said. He did exactly that.

The next morning, Tom woke up late. He was supposed to meet (Y/N) at the movies and he couldn’t find his glasses anywhere. He had gotten out of the shower, he ran around the flat looking for them. Water still dripping off of him while he tried to hold on to the towel around his waist.

“Have you seen my glasses?” He asked Harrison, who lay half awake on the couch, his feet on the table in front of him. He hummed out: “No, afraid not.”

“Big, big bollocks.” he looked at the bookshelf, “Average day, my glasses are everywhere. Everywhere I look there’s a pair of glasses. But when I want to go to the cinema they’ve vanished.” He turned over pillows and threw some clothes around. “It’s one of life’s real cruelties.”

“That’s compared to, like, earthquakes in the Far East or testicular cancer, is it?” Harrison said, not looking up from his paper. Tom wanted to comment on his flatmate's sentence, but when he looked up his eyes caught a glance at the clock on the desk.

“Oh shit, is that the time?” He ran upstairs to get dressed. When he ran back down, he yelled out to Harrison: “Thanks for all your help on the glasses thing.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he said, still not looking up from the article he was reading. “Did you find them?”

“Sort of.” Tom groaned as he couldn’t find the sleeve of his jacket.

“Great.”

He only had one other option, except for going to see the movie half blind. So, when the movie started and the lights went off, he put on his diving goggles. (Y/N) almost started crying from laughter when she looked at him. He didn’t mind. He knew he looked like a twat.

During the movie, she would keep throwing popcorn at his face, scaring him every time as he couldn’t see her because of the goggles blocking most of his peripheral vision.

After the movie, they went to a sushi restaurant. It was an average dinner time, so the place was quite packed. Every table was occupied with people talking and laughing. Including the one where Tom and (Y/N) were seated. They had a table at the window. There wasn’t much of a view except for the plants growing outside. They had been talking about their own lives. Just getting to know each other a bit better.

“So who left who?” she asked him. Somehow they managed to land on the topic of his tragic divorce. Normally he didn’t like to talk about it but he felt comfortable around her. “Er - she left me.”

“Why?” she stirred the drink in her hand. Tom had to think about how to make his story less pathetic.

“She saw through me.” he smiled a lightly. She brought her glass to her lips. “Oh-oh, that’s not good.”

A laughter from behind them broke out. There was a table with a couple of businessmen. They all looked to Tom as neither could pronounce any of the dishes that they were currently eating. Their laughter getting louder and more obnoxious.

“You can give me (Y/F/N) any day.” One of them said. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she listened to what the man had to say. There was a small wall between their tables so the man couldn’t see her or Tom.

“I didn’t like her last film.” Another one commented. “Fell asleep as soon as the lights went down.” She gave Tom a look of “fair enough”.

“I don’t really care what the film’s like.” the first guy said. “Any film with her in, it’s fine by me.” The man laughed. (Y/N) smiled. A third man added to the conversation: “She’s not my type at all. I prefer the other one. You know, blonde, sweet looking. You know, what’s her name? Has an orgasm every time you take her out for a cup of coffee.” (Y/N) mouthed the words “Meg Ryan” to Tom just as the man at the next table said it too in a chorus.

“No, she’s too wholesome.” the first one talked again. “You see, the point about Miss (Y/L/N) is she’s got that twinkle in her eye.” She gave Tom a seductive look with a wink and smirked, then started laughing. The conversation of the men at the next table continued: “Probably drug0induced. Spends most of her life in bloody rehab.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, whatever. She’s so clearly up for it.” (Y/N) the smile disappeared from her face. She listened in concentration to what they had to say about her. “I mean, you see, most girls, they’re all like, “stay away chum”. But (Y/N)...” he made a disgusting sound. “She is absolutely gagging for it.” Tom saw her getting a bit uncomfortable. He wanted to do something about it. Those guys were being extreme dicks.

“Do you know that in over 50% of languages, the word for “actress” is the same as the word for ‘prostitute’?” They started laughing. One of them asked where his friend got that “fact” from.

“And (Y/N) is your definitive actress,” the same guy said it, with his mouth full.

“Right, that’s it. Sorry.” Tom got up, now really sick of it. His heart was raging with anger. Who did they think they were, talking like that about another person. About (Y/N). The sweetest, most beautiful woman he had ever met. She tried to stop him, but it didn’t work. He walked up to the table of dicks while they were enjoying another of their vulgar comments about the girl that was sitting just a table away from them.

“Sorry, sorry to disturb you guys, but…” they looked up at Tom, still laughing. One of them, the one who had made most of the remarks asked: “Can I help?”

“Well, yeah,” Tom said. “I wish I hadn’t overheard your conversation, but I...I did. And, I just think, you know the person you’re talking about is a real person and I think she probably deserves a little bit more consideration rather than having jerks like you drooling over her.” he didn’t want to pull her into it. He could handle it himself.

The guy in front of him scoffed. “Oh, sod off, mate. What are you, her dad?” they all started laughing obnoxiously again. Tom wanted to say that he was her boyfriend, in fact. But was he? They’ve only been on two dates, one including his brothers birthday party one night ago. You wouldn’t call it a relationship really. Before he could come back with a remark, he could feel her tug at his arm, pulling him backward.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said embarrassed at his failure to defend her.

“No, I love that you tried.” Ow, that hurt. “Time was I’d have done the same thing. In fact…” They had been walking to the exit when she stopped. She put on a smile on her face and walked back, straight to the table of jerks. Tom followed her but stayed in the distance as she neared the table. “Hi,” she said. Tom couldn’t see her face, but the expressions on the guys’ faces were priceless. The color of their faces vanished as they looked up at her.

“Oh my God!” said the most obnoxious one of all.

“I just wanted to apologize for my friend. He’s very sensitive.” The guy shot up, his chopsticks held on to a piece of fish that were on the verge of falling to the ground and he held his pint in a way that it could spill if he only moved his hand by a millimeter. He stammered something that could be a start to an apology. (Y/N) stopped him. “No, no, no, leave it. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. I’m sure it was just friendly banter… I’m sure you guys have dicks the size of peanuts.” She added the last part through gritted teeth, probably still trying to smile. “Enjoy your dinner. The tuna’s are really good.” and she turned around. Tom walked after her, giving the guys one last look. They still looked paralyzed as they watched her walk away.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that,” she repeated it all the way up to the entrance of the Ritz.

“No, you were brilliant,” Tom assured her.

“I’m rash and I am stupid.” she laughed at herself, “What am I doing with you?” she looked him in the eyes.

“I don’t know, I’m afraid.” He really didn’t. How had he managed to convince the amazing (Y/N) to go out on a date with him? It was a miracle.

“I don’t either.” They reached the entrance of the hotel. (Y/N) looked inside and then at Tom again. “Here we are.”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what to do. “Well, look…”

“Do you wanna come up?” she asked.

“Well, there seem to be lots of reasons why I shouldn’t, so…”

“There are lots of reasons.” she agreed. “Do you wanna come up?” Tom simply nodded. “Give me five minutes.” She walked away with a smirk. When she disappeared behind the door, Tom leaned against the wall. This was really happening. He would go up to her room. Where they would be alone. And, possibly, kiss…

Four minutes and thirty seconds later, Tom walked inside. He got into the elevator, pressed the same number three button he did last time and the doors closed. When they opened again he was on the third floor. Immediately taking a turn to the right, he walked on. This time there were no journalists. No interviews. It would just be him and her. He knocked on the door.

(Y/N) opened. They said hi. Tom walked up to her to kiss her, but she had moved slightly, causing his lips to land on her cheek. He wasn’t mad. “To be able to do that is such a wonderful feeling.” He confessed with a smile.

“You’ve got to go,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Because my boyfriend, who was in America, is, in fact, now in the next room.” She pointed to the wall next to her.

“Boyfriend?” Tom didn’t understand. He thought he was the boyfriend. Or, at least, possibly on his way there. Was it too bold of an assumption?

“Yes.” She wanted to explain but as if on cue a voice from the other room called: “Hey, baby, who is it?”

“It’s a…” (Y/N) didn’t manage to mumble out much. Out of the next room, walked out a man, who Tom couldn’t help but think that he would fit perfectly around the jerks from the restaurant. He looked at Tom suspecting.

“Uh… Room service.” Tom improvised.

“Oh. How are you doing?” he smiled. Tom had to admit, the man looked a mess. “I thought you guys always wore those penguin coats?” he joked. Tom had to go along.

“Usually we do. But I was just changed to go home. And..uhm… then I thought I’d take this final call.”

“Oh, great. If you don’t mind, I would like something, too.” He was unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. “Could you bring me up some really, really cold water?”

Tom barely heard the words, still confused about the whole situation. She had a boyfriend. Who was standing right in front of him? Blankly, he said: “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Still, not sparkling.”

“Absolutely, Ice-cold still water.”

He removed the dress shirt, under which he had a normal grey t-shirt. “Unless, of course, it’s illegal in the UK to serve beverages below room temperature. I wouldn’t want you going to jail just to satisfy my whim, now.” he joked. Tom didn’t exactly understand it, but smiled.

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Thanks.” he left to the bathroom. (Y/N) looked at Tom and was about to say something when her boyfriend came back. “Hey, one more thing, if you don’t mind, could you adiós those dirty dishes and take out the trash, too?” Tom was sure that under any other circumstance, he would be a really great guy, but now he just seemed like a huge dick. As if in trance, Tom stepped in and went over to the table where the plates lay. (Y/N) tried to push him back.

“No. No. Don’t do that. I don’t think it’s his job to clear.” she explained to her boyfriend who looked at her weirdly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. What’s your name, man?” Tom couldn’t think of his own name. Completely blanking on everything… maybe he was having a seizure? Yes! And these were all some cruel hallucinations. That must be it. Tom just said the first name that popped into his brain: “Bernie.”

“Oh, listen, Bernie, thank you, I really appreciate it.” the man pulled out a note and put it in Tom’s hand. He didn’t see how much it was. Then, he went over and kissed her. Right in front of Tom. The audacity to pull her in so close, just like Tom wanted to do ever since he met her. He pulled away.

“So, tell me, tell me, tell me. Good surprise or nasty surprise?” She stared at him, definitely surprised, then said: “Good surprise.”

“Oh, you’re such a liar.” he shook his head excited. He turned to Tom to tell him that “She hates surprises.” How funny, Tom thought, he hates them too. “Hey, what are you gonna order?”

“Huh?” she looked confused at her boyfriend, who suddenly was jumping with energy.

“From him,” he pointed at Tom, “What are you gonna order?”

“Oh, uhm… I haven’t decided yet.” She confessed.

“Well, don’t overdo it.” he walked away to the bathroom. “I don’t want people saying, there goes that famous actor the big fat girlfriend.” If Tom wasn’t scared of him hitting him back, he would have punched the shit out the guy.

“I should leave,” he whispered when the bathroom door closed. (Y/N) looked at him with broken eyes. He picked up the dirty plates and the waste bucket. (Y/N) rushed her hand through her hair, clearly feeling nervous and uncomfortable. Tom wanted to make her feel better, but it wasn’t his place to do so. Not with her boyfriend in the room next door. “This is a fairly strange reality to be faced with.” he sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her words were getting a bit stuck in her throat. “I don’t… know what to say.”

“Well,” he looked away for a second, “I think goodbye is traditional.” he hated goodbyes. He hated traditional. Especially both together, if it had to do with her. In her eyes, he could see she was thinking the same.

(Y/N) walked him out, apologizing once more. Tom walked down the empty corridor, now feeling much colder than when he was walking there before. He left the plates in front of another room, knowing that the actual room service would clean it when they saw it.

Finally, outside, he was met with fresh air, but he still couldn’t breathe. He started walking wherever his legs were taking him, which was apparently the bus stop. The red vehicle didn’t come much later. Of course, it was one of those that promoted the HELIX movie. Her beautiful face right in the middle of it.

Tom stepped inside, paid for a ticket and then walked all the way to the back. There were other places for him to sit, but he felt like the last row would be isolating, very fitting to his current situation and feeling.

Once he got home all he wanted to do was fall into his bed and fall asleep, hopefully never to wake up again. But he couldn’t even close his eyes. He lay wide awake for at least an hour. He wondered what he could do to get the sleep to hit his brain. He knew that there was a movie theatre not far from the flat which had late screenings. Maybe there was something.

There was definitely something. Unfortunately, the only movie that still had tickets available was HELIX. Tom had no other choice. He purchased the ticket and went inside. There weren’t many people in the small room.

He wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate her. But his heart wouldn’t let him. She still looked as beautiful as she did yesterday, before all of that in the hotel room happened, before the boyfriend. Tom watched (Y/N) walk in slow-motion. Her space suit shiny from all the touch ups the editors had made to the film. He watched her stop in the middle of the hall of the space station and put on her helmet. He listened to her saying her lines, but nothing stuck. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“Come on. Open up.” Harrison was sitting opposite of him on the sofa. “This is me. Hazza.” He made some sad jazz-hands. It somehow made Tom chuckle a bit.

“I’m in contact with some quite important spiritual vibrations. Come on. Hit me with it.” Tom looked at his flatmate. Not really sure if he was the person who he should tell this to. But Harrison was the only person there and Tom at least hoped he could trust him a little bit. He took a deep breath before talking.

“There’s this girl.”

“Aha.” Harrison nodded along. “See, I’d been getting a female vibe. Good. Speak on, dear friend.”

“Er- she’s someone who… can’t be mine.” Tom stared into his cup of now cold tea. “And it’s as if I’ve taken love heroin and now I can’t ever have it again.” he laughed at his stupid analogy. “I’ve opened Pandora’s Box and there’s this trouble inside.”

Harrison leaned back. “Hmmm, yeah. Tricky. Tricky.” He talked very slowly. “I knew a girl at school called Pandora.” Tom wasn’t sure where that came from or what it had to do with anything he had just said.

“Never got to see her box though.” Harrison giggled idiotically.

“Right. Right, thanks, that’s very helpful.” Harrison kept on giggling.

“You didn’t know she had a boyfriend?” Max asked. Together with Bella, Paddy, and Bernie, they were eating dinner at Tony’s new restaurant. It had been open for a few weeks already and they were, with the exception of two others, the only diners there that night.

“No. No. Why, did you?” he looked up from his food. Had his best friends known and not told him? Max didn’t respond, just raised an eyebrow to Bernie and continued eating his soup. “Oh, bloody hell. I don’t believe it. My whole life ruined because I don’t read Hello! magazine.”

“Let’s face facts. This was always a no-win situation. Y/N)’s a goddess.” Tom definitely agreed with that. “You know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods.”

“Buggered, is it?”

“Every time.” he smiled to Tom weakly. “But don’t despair, I think I have the solution to your problems.” Tom wasn’t so sure about that.

“Really?”

Max nodded proudly, straightened the napkin on his lap and announced: “Her name is Tessa, and she works in the contracts department.” Tom laughed at the idea of a blind date. So did the rest of his friends. “The hair I admit is unfashionably frizzy. But she’s bright as a button, and kisses like a nymphomaniac on death row.” Bella stopped laughing and looked Max dead in the eyes. “Apparently.” He added quickly, too scared of his wife.

----------------------

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rayinberkeley · 6 years

Text

We are in strange times.

Once upon a time your favorite moment of your favorite comedian's would be when s/he was their most hilarious and made you laugh.

Then someone was talking to me about how much they miss Jon Stewart and about their favorite moment of Jon's long career on the Daily Show. And it hit me. My favorite moments of his were when he wasn't funny at all.

When they wanted him to be funny as a guest on Crossfire, and instead he quite soberly told them to stop ruining the country.

When he had John Kramer on his show after a banter between the two, and he held the fucker's feet to the fire about helping the stock crash along by recommending what he knew were empty investments with Bear Sterns.

When he came onto the show and apologized about not being to laugh at all after six were killed in a South Carolina church, and he came quite close to tears to say he's exhausted with how often this happens only to see absolutely nothing change, and jokes simply weren't appropriate. And then threw the show to have an extra long interview with Malala Yousefsai instead, which proved to be uplifting when we needed it most.

I think in times when we can just go along with the norm, or we can just do the easy thing, and we simply refuse to, that's a heroism that few people have the courage to display. This was what I respected about Hillary Clinton. In a time when everyone was throwing tantrums and demanding changes that they didn't think through, and we were prepared to reward someone for no reason other than they were angry but not because of what we should be rewarding them for--doing the planning and work to change what we're angry about--she instead didn't go along with that insanity. And we'd have a shit ton less to panic and tantrum about had we elected her.

I think about Robin Williams the same way. He was a comedian but he was also a clinically depressed human being with a heart of gold who suffered when he saw suffering. When he made you laugh it was amazing, but when you saw him in every movie have that moment of suffering, you saw he wasn't acting at all. There was a lot of pain in him. My favorite moment of his was in Man of the Year--a similar situation where an election was stolen, but a far cry from what you're seeing now. His character listened and did the right thing, even if his campaign had been similar in today's angst.

I kind of walk this line. I'm like that. I want major change, but I also don't want to just throw my hands in the air and help do something careless and drastic under that stupid notion that anything is better than this. While everybody's yelling establishment like it's a dirty word, I remember that the civil rights we've established are, for some, the only safety that many rely upon. They didn't have the luxury to risk it on someone like Bernie or Stein. I know what they mean. We can't just ditch all things to the wind when I know damned well the most vulnerable would be left unprotected and the first hurt. I was insanely offended by Bernie's casting of Planned Parenthood and the HRC as establishment, when I know women and LGBT people in many parts of this country have only them to rely on while the rightwing half attacks them constantly.

Instead of joining that self-righteous tantrum that feels so good in the moment, I frightfully hoped for the sane, level-headed candidate to win. And of course, other than the election being stolen, she did. And when the other side leveled jokes and insults, and talking points that it takes little more than two lonely brain cells fired up to shoot, I tried to think about Stewart, and Clinton, and Williams, and the people most vulnerable. To think about what mattered most about the Clinton years and not get distracted by the blowjob that everyone fixated on because this shit-hole country of ours is eternally childish.

This shit isn't funny. The people are still throwing tantrums as though you dig your way out of a hole. The word establishment is still carelessly made a bad word, even if part of that establishment was made, through decades of sacrifice and sweat and tears and even deaths, into a part that promotes equality and security for minorities. Jokes escape me. This country never leaves that part of Network that screams they're mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore from their windows, failing to remember the rest of the movie--those same people forgot, took it some more, and lost interest until their spokesperson was murdered, because they have the focus of a gnat. And tantrums aren't how we make change.

I can't even turn on the Progressive Voices app because most of the day the shows on it still claim Bernie would've won, Bernie was cheated by the DNC, Bernie Bernie Bernie is just so perfect. Like fuck he is. We can't afford blind following like that. God dammit, those of you who scream for the rest of us to "wake up" all the time are just so fucking snoozy to reality it's insane.

We conceivably have doomed the planet so that some people can pretend to be more righteous than the others on the left, and yet they did this not giving a shit who they doomed. That's not more righteous. And it's not funny. I don't have a joke for that. No punchline. No witty insult. Just a wish they'd shut the fuck up and get shit in line. Too much is riding on us doing so.

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stone-man-warrior · 3 years

Text

February 19, 2021: 9:48 am:

==================================================

Observation:

A series of events that led to an incoming call on my phone is worthy of note.

This email promotion from American Music Supply came in yesterday afternoon at 4:01 pm. The “01″ being of interest as a “perpetuation” statement.

Features Shure Wireless products.

This arrived at 8:21 am shortly after I went online with the computer. From Mariam Webster, Week in Review:

I was interested in “Kerfuffle” having seen Boris Johnson use that word in a Tweet last week or so.

Here, we get some insight from MW about “Kerfuffle”. They side-step “Kerfuffle”, and move over to “Kafuffle” in their explanation of word use historically in literary works.

So, I saw that the letter “R” had been taken out, in favor of the letter “F” for the spelling of a different word, explaned with obscure litterary reference where I see little association to Boris Johnson’s use of a different word, that is similar to “Kafuffle”.

I make assessment mentally: “There must be an “RF” frequency generator around here somewhere” I thought to myself.

I did that assessment about radio frequency, then looked at the ad for the sure products again, and clicked the link in the email to get to the page below that explains more about wireless transmitters made by Shure.

That is exactly the moment the phone rang, after seeing that Kerfuffle is not Kafuffle, and the difference is an “RF” re-arrangement, and is based on a Boris Johnson tweet, and was announced by MW, the source authority of all things “dictionary text”. As I accessed an advertisement about wireless transmitters, a call incoming from 541-641-7862 at 9:45 am, just at moment I accessed the Shure page from the AMS email promotion shown above, is notable.

The listed source area of the call. Means nothing.

Yoncala.

Must be a joke sent by Boris Johnson.

Boris playfully says: “I tire of this”, with that call.

Those words are made famously recognizable by a local attorney by the name of Christopher Mecca, who is known to say: “I tire of this” when he gets frustrated about things he loses control of.

Some observations I made about that Shure ad, includes that the grey color is both on the background and on the text, making a difficult read due to reduced contrast between text and background. Is a “Gamma Adjustment” statement, and is a “place where opposites meet” sort of statement with the use of the grey color. It’s complicated, you need to understand the Queen’s Black & White Television, and that it has a brightness, contrast, and volume knob, sometimes the reception is not quite right, and you have to smack it up side of the cabinet to make the picture more clear.

Sophisticated, but with only three knobs.

From there, we can talk about Joe Biden‘s fake bullshit rhetoric terror command language in that video speech this morning where “file cabinets w/replaceable locks and roller bearing drawers” is the message presented in the code.

Specifics about these two file cabinets are part of today’s Joe Biden terror speech.

“you have to smack it upside the cabinet to make picture satisfactory” ... part of the operational characteristics of the Queen‘s black & white television.

“Exchange “head” for “cabinet”, for a clearer picture and some Smack”

That is the Joe Biden message in his Twitter terror speech today.

There is more, But Joe is saying he wants another crew of terror assassins to come take a whack at me, and is offering some heroin to the successful assassins.

Here is the link to the Joe’s Happy Heroin Smack Hit Orders.

There is other stuff in there too.

https://twitter.com/StateDept/status/1362797657580838913

10:49 am:

These assholes are hijacking my computer again through the Norton Symantec internet security from Centurylink terror cell HQ, I suspect they source is at Grants Pass Community Church today, and is mobile terror hacker tools provided by Centurylink ISP.

Happened the moment I posted this Tumblr entry just now.

That pop up window about Dark Web is the hack, it has a bug built in and is disguised as a friendly reminder, Canadian style.

=======================

11:09 am:

had to reset the digital signal amplification module, restart the computer and runs scans with the same security product that is being used to do the hacking into my computer, normally I would have swapped out the flux capacitor for a freshly charged one, but those are no longer available.

=========================================

It’s very clear that Christopher Mecca is in charge of today’s hit from Biden’s terror team (Ann Wilson at Amp Guru on Kauai Ranch).

Early this morning I saw someone wearing the Brown KKK Robe out side of my kitchen window at about 7:00 am.

I’ll wager that was Christopher Mecca.

He sometimes wears a orange hard hat, and that has a wireless guitar transmitter attached to the back side of the orange hard hat. They use that communication when iPhone blu-tooth comm devices are too risky.

Chris Mecca has/had an office at the Sears shopping center in Grants Pass nearby the La Burrita Restaurant where John Kitzhaber was killed in defense many years ago.

Chris Mecca is an attorney, but lives on the property owned by Grants Pass Community Church at the house where the pastor is supposed to live.

They are all pirates, the attorney is a terrorist, is the pastor.

Chris Mecca preferes to attack me from the Chapman County Courts terror cell at 3701 Russell Road. He is going to be upset about the death of his comrade County Court Judge Honorable Patrick Wolke last few days ago. Pat needs Chris to operate, and Chris needs Pat to operate. Pat is dead. That will cause problems for Chris.

Chris has a lovely Cannibal wife by the name of Kelly Mecca, she has worked at Ray’s Food Place for more than twenty years, capturing, torturing, killing, and then eating the vacationing tourist victims who visit this area for the great recreation that it offers. All of the local SDA who attend the Grants Pass Community Church are cannibals, they eat human meat. Sometimes the human meat is available at the Ray’s Food Place Butcher Counter if you know the magic words to get some of it.

There is a lot of poison gas already released in the neighborhood. The kind that makes blurred vision, and swollen and painful right leg conditions.

Please send help.

US Military is required, there are 50,000 terror soldiers in Josephine county alone, many hundreds of thousands more throughout the state of Oregon.

Bring your own hospital, those are occupied by the terror army here.

============================================

5:48 pm:

Here is more about the Joe Biden Schnitzel German phile cabinet terror hit presented on Twitter earlier today:

This tweet generated from a Twitter Trend about a 27 year old (is “27 Club“ and is a shape, a “cube” or “container”)

This is the same as the keys that are in the phile cabinet in the ad above where I just read the information provided in the Joe Biden speech in order to know how to find the phile cabinet’s that were shown above and the other information contained outside of the Biden Phile cabinet for the Chris Mecca hit orders.

(think in terms of that report about terrorism I sent to the white house the other day, where I was provided with 2000 characters at the WH website to say my thing, not enough room to work with, so inclusion of external information provided with the links to this StoneMan Warrior account so they could be fully informed, and advised of the sophistaced nature of the terror reported, and pointed out the 911 Emergency Phone Service is controlled by terror army, does not work, and only brings assassins.)

That leads to anothet email from music industry, this one featuring Electrovoice Speakers sent later in the day today at 4:01 pm, 24 hours after that other email was sent with the Shure Wireless products.

When I click that and apply the clues in the “Key Tweet” (Mike Pompeo Keynote Speaker at the SXSW convention where Bernie Sanders showed up at the Boris Johnson Basketball Game, from Yesterdays “Iranian Terror Rental Service At US State Department, The Blinken Tugboat Tweet about a educational situation, all inclusive here along with my reports of terrorism ... that is why the file cabinets are necessary, and is why Dolly Parton was featured in news yesterday to say the “Statue of Limitations Timing is off” sort of message about carting away my belongings.

It’s complicated like that.

But, click the link as directed by Mike Pompeo disguised as Nicholas G, Riech in the Tweet shown above, do math, and here are the file cabinet drawers below symbolically, somehow.

The “drawers are removable from the cabinet” is part of the message, and is part of the Joe Biden instructions to kill me and take down this Tumblr account.

Give me an interview about terrorism, and I will gladly decode the rest of the comm in the speakers.

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-etx15sp-15-1800-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-ETX15SP

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-etx18sp-18-1800-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-ETX18SP

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-ekx15sp-15-1300-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-EKX15SPUS

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-ekx18sp-18-1300-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-EKX18SPUS

Joe Biden has it worked out where he is able to send out terror commands and hit orders that are hidden inside of coded information the is about his pedophilia preferences of little red headed girls, and, he still gets a pass on both the terrorism and the pedophilia.

=====================

In the unlikely event there could be someone watching the baby other than me, be advised that I am waiting to see a Tweet from UK that says something to the affect of “upside down sterling”, “dead whale”, or maybe “sterling roll over” kind of Tweet. They already said “Sterling remains buoyant” night before last at Reuters UK. The is not a good thing for Britain, the sterling is metal, should stay under the water.

If the sterling goes belly-up in some way, that to me says the Guantanamo Bay Submarine in the Gulf of Mexico, a British boat, and maybe the other one at Pelican Bay in northern California,was sunk, caught, or are otherwise out of commission.

I’ve been poisoned with a variety of airborne gasses non-stop for the past week since I sent that report of terrorism to the White House, and I don‘t really want to do any more decoding work, I feel sick, my leg hurts real bad, and there is no help to stop the attack. Twitter is still Tweeting, and that tells me there is never going to be an end to the terrorism we face in USA.

=======================================

8:18 pm:

“Beyond Westlessness“

Remember what I was saying about “Bee in your Bonnet” is an SDA expression used for communincation between SDA terror cells to share “brainstorming” ideas, basically “Bee in Your Bonnet” is an idea, something that an SDA terror cell has used for capturing US Citizens, and works good, so they share their ideas with one another about what works, and what does not work I suppose is also included in Bee in Your Bonnet” SDA terror comm.

Here, the “Bee in Your Bonnet” announcement is presented on the header of the Twitter account featuring Joe Biden, a Seventh Day Adventist Cannibal and a Pedophile who seeming was released from federal prison, given a $1,000 suit to wear, and the keys to the White House as a gift from Britain to USA.

“Bee Yond” (do your own math, I tire of this)

Bugs Bunny at the White House. Bugs is funny, but he’s an asshole.

https://twitter.com/MunSecConf

That Presidential video I tried to link above won‘t play at any of the places it’s posted, if you did not see it live like I did, you won‘t be able to see it. In the background where Joe was standing while doing the speech, there were two objects, one on each side of him. The looked almost exactly like those two file cabinets I linked above, and is party how I was able to read the clues that led me there.

Joe mentioned “Democrat national Convention” in the speech he made. The statement was out of place, did not really fit in with the gist of the speech.

You can’t see it, because US State is suppressing it on Twitter.

Do you see that MSC logo in that header above?

Think about file cabinets (this tumblr account [email protected] is the file cabinet being referred to in the wake of the report of terrorism and request for help I sent to the white house on the 13th of February 2021.)

now look at this logo:

It’s a match.

Seagate makes hard-drives. It’s “Close enough for government work” for the match.

Seagate is a company that was hijacked early on in the terror takeover. When I was held captive in around 1998 - 2002 or so, I was forced to create design work, and had to use a “Seagate FreeAgent” hard drive that was brought each day, and taken away each day.

In 1998, I was storing files on a hard drive with 1.5 - 3 terrabytes of disc space.

That was way way way beyond what was publicly available at the time as far as storage space technology is concerned. That hard drive is used to do a lot of things, I made many of the logos for some of the so called “unicorns” as a result of being held captive and was told to store the work on that Seagate FreeAgent 1.5 - 3 terrabyte hard drive at a time when terrabytes were unheard of.

It does not make a difference. nothing I say here makes any difference only because there are no more national security people.

I cannot get any help. I need medical treatment, but there are no more real doctors, there are only terror soldier operative actors who pretend, they play role of health provider, and kill those who go to see a doctor.

That and Twitter is still tweeting.

no help will ever be able to do any kind of security work if Twitter remains active.

no doctors will ever be restored to the communities.

no one will stop the aerial poison gas from being release by the terror soldiers who use Twitter for commands to use the gas.

as more aerial gas is released by command on Twitter, the terror army will continue to draw people to the health providers with symptoms from the poison gas, while Twitter promotes the fake Corona Virus is the reason so many are getting sick, and going to see a doctor, but that is all bullshit designed to remind you every day, to go to see a doctor. There, everyone is killed. US Citizens go in the front door at the hospital, and a Canadian look-a-like comes out of the side door later on, using the name of the murdered victim citizens.

I am tired. I can barely see the screen, the gas is fouling up my vision, my circulation is poor, my leg is swollen, and I have coughing fits when the put the poison gasses into the house through the cracks around the doors and windows, laundry vent, chimney, and other places that all houses have available for inserting gas with pressure to poison people.

Since making that report to the white house, the gas attacks from outside has increased dramatically. The number of dead terror soldiers ratio per day that I have defended against has increased dramatically, and there is no signs of any helpful people.

I did not opened my front door to go outside yesterday or the day before at all. It’s too dangerous to go outside after asking the White House for help to stop mass murders in Oregon, and US and Global take over.

Earlier today shortly after that incoming phone call from “Yoncala” came in to my phone, a powerful jet airplane flew low and slow over my house, it was going south towards the Grants Pass Municipal Airport, which is about seven miles south of my house. That jet is the same kind of thing that happens when SAGClubMed Junket Jet comes each time, they always buzz my house first, then again usually on the flight out, typically after a three to four day mass murder festival that SAGClubMed Junket is about.

So, Junket Jet Flyover at about noon or so today is what also happened, it’s part of the “Joe Biden Staple’s Phile Cabinet Electrovoice State Department Iranian Tugboat Terror in the Mediteranian Sea Rental Service” that has been building momentum over the past three days.

============================

9:27 pm:

Here is a video part from ABC World news retweeted from the “Munich Security Conference” Twitter Verified Account:

There are the symbolic phile cabinets there.

What you need to do, is make assessment from the product descriptions at the link I provided for you above, about the Staple’s File Cabinets. Look at the keys that are in each one. See that one is “Aluminum, and one is “Metal”. Read about the removable lock that is replaceable, and see that they each feature bearing roller drawer guides. I don‘t recall seeing information about “Removable Drawers” but a removable/Replaceable Lock is specified.

Then, the Electrovoice Speakers, presented later on, are basically the same shape as the file cabinet drawers are. There are four speakers specified from instructions contained in that Trending on Twitter Tweet from “Nicholas G. Riech” (is Mike Pompeo, or Blinkin in disguise, or someone from “Amp Guru” terror cell) then see that those are the drawers. See that there are two sizes of speakers, 18″ and 15″, and there are two sizes of File Cabinet, 18″ and 15″ wide, “Letter & Legal”.

Look for other information throughout all of what I linked for you. I did not read the specifications for the speakers, I don‘t want to read about my own murder contract from the President any more than I need to for seeing that the hit order is present.

The hit order is present, and includes that this Tumblr account is to be “Carted Away with a hand truck”

https://twitter.com/ABCWorldNews/status/1362807660958089221

=================

9:47 pm:

We are at a point in USA where reporting terrorism to the US President to ask for help in a national emergency, is responded to with assassins sent from the White House to kill those who make such reports, and, to delete any evidence that a report was made.

This is not a new phenomenon.

If you read this account, there are other times when I sent reports of the same terrorism, to the White House, to Donald Trump, and the result then was a bomb at a doctor office that backfired and exploded the assassins and the bus they arrived in. February 7th 2017 I think it was, I explained it many times here on this account.

Further research would show that Barack Obama was also informed through the White House Contact Page, and, with hand written letter in the United States Postal Mail sent from the US Post Office at 97532 in Merlin where I hand carried the letter and sent it to the White House addressed to Barack Obama with registered or certified mail at a time when Joe Biden was Vice President. The same terrorism was reported then as now.

I called George W. Bush’s White House Phone number to report the terrorism back then also.

All of them have sent assassins to kill me, none sent any help, none did anything to stop the mass murders.

Hillary Clinton came to my home personally to kill me in around 2008.

I am tempted to challenge someone to report the same kind of terrorism to the white house, the kind that is real, that includes mass murder at the grocery stores in the day time with use of poison gasses.

Don‘t do it. You have to find another way, The US President’s don‘t do US national defense work, they do terror take over of USA work in league with Britain.

==========================================

February 20, 2021: 9:29 am:

Reminder: If nsa were to run across any Seagate FreeAgent hard drives, be advised that those old/new pre-release technology ones like the one I was forced to use, they look exactly the same as the ones the were made available at Walmart in around 2009. When you start it up, it makes a series of little lights that look somewhat like stars all arranged on the front panel. Also, those were “encryption“ hard drives. The way that works, is when files are stored, someone can make a password protected file that encapsulates the information to be encrypted, then, the encrypted information within that file is made invisible to anyone who browses the contents of the hard drive, and that is what the encryption is for. It’s a feature that makes a set of information completely invisible on the FreeAgent hard drive, without the password, no one will even know that such encrypted files are stored on it, and, without specialized disc annalists tools, no one can even know that any disc space is occupied by such encrypted files.

I’ll wager that Joe Biden has an array of SeaGate FreeAgent Encryption Discs filled with kiddie-porn edited with aboriginal down under BBC news Pence music, so, be advised of that.

Also, another reminder: Mike Pence is a Grants Pass Oregon former resident, maybe is real home town. Only very few people know that.

Barack Obama grew up in San Fernando Valley California, not Hawaii, not anywhere else, not where the publicly available information says he grew up.

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geliki80-blog · 4 years

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october 29, 2020, 1:24am

after watching some episodes of other shows, i settled on an episode of david letterman's netflix series with dave chappelle. it was powerful to watch something that referred to events happening this year that have touched my life, that have affected so many lives. and empowering to hear him amplify so many of the values that i have also come to embrace, including community.

it made me think about my life in the small town i stayed in after college. this town made only slightly bigger by the university that brings in a more diverse range of thinkers and characters than the town itself could ever hope to boast about. i was drawn to this place because i wanted to be closer to thick clusters of trees and farther from dense throngs of people. the electricity of the city had worn me out by seventeen, and i craved an escape from the pace of consumerism that felt foreign and overwhelming to me.

but as i got older within the smaller town's limits, i recognized more and more about how my experiences fit within a bigger context. how certain things that had been more subtle or more covert in pittsburgh were obvious in a place still glaringly white, and glaringly conservative. and the more i realized about the way the town operated, and the way the country operated, and my own place within all of that, i felt more and more disconnected from my literal community. from the place where i liked the trees more than the people.

still i managed to make friends. characters paraded in and out of the tiny gas station on a corner at one of the four intersections in town where i worked part-time for several years. people spoke to me because i was just about the least threatening person, and i was in a subservient role. i had a welcoming aura that had been inviting strangers to open up to me from the time i was a teenager waiting on buses in downtown pittsburgh. that trait followed me into my twenties, and into various customer service positions. as a cashier, i didn't have the freedom to walk away from a customer who decided to unload about his day, his life, his opinions about the state of the country. there was a sense of marginalization that i always felt. a feeling of subversiveness just beneath the surface. and so community for me came to mean the group of people whom i had gravitated toward. whom i had chosen to talk to and listen to. people who stuck around and became close to me, spent time with me, allowed me into their lives and into their families and into their hearts. before long, new friends became people who were precious to me over a decade, and that time grows longer still with so many friends i had the pleasure of meeting in this tiny vortex of interesting and predictable people.

as i get older, i want to be more active in my community. i already know i have a talent for talking with people. for listening. and i know how many people i learned about just from that passive role as a cashier at a gas station. so imagine what i could accomplish with a bit more intention. i've never been much for schmoozing. i also don't believe in selling anything to people. but i know we all have needs, and i believe in working toward making sure everyone's are met. and i know that we stand a much better chance of accomplishing that if we work together, rather than against each other.

there are times that i have really fucked up with people. times when my ego or my perspective has gotten in the way of using a better approach to create dialogue. times when i've talked at someone. or times when my feelings got the best of me, and i spoke before i thought well enough. i think thoughtfulness is definitely something that improves with age and experience, especially if we're conscious about strengthening that muscle. when someone hurts me, there is the part of hurt that is all ego. that is painful. and forgiveness seems always to have two parts--one for forgiving the other person for being human and doing what humans do sometimes which might be lashing out, or projecting, or doing what wounded creatures do. the other for forgiving myself for reacting and getting mad at the person for being human and doing what wounded creatures do. and anyone who denies me permission to make mistakes is not really my friend. but anyone who is not my friend is not my enemy either. and again, ultimately we are both trying to achieve something with progress. with shaping the world around us (and within) toward what we want it to be. and while i cannot control how the other person advances with their own sense of forgiveness, it's never a bad time to engage in some self-reflection and re-evaluate what i have the power to grow within myself, improve within my own behaviors. what the other person does is up to them. and i want only never to hinder their growth. so sometimes stepping back, stepping away from someone is necessary. but the door for dialogue should never close.

and i think that relates to the bigger picture. the bigger society that we're all a part of.

tonight, i was thinking as i hung up the fiona apple poster in my room, the construction paper matting badly faded. the cheap plastic poster frame misaligned and taped at the corners to hold it all together. i was thinking about giving permission to people to make mistakes. allowing it. when that idea first comes into my mind, it comes with the assumption that people will learn from their mistakes, and become better. smarter. more compassionate. but there is an error to that thinking, because it assumes that people must be better than what they are, and that they are not worthy of forgiveness unless they evolve from their mistakes. we punish a child with the intention of teaching them to think and behave more appropriately. but children repeat behaviors, pushing the extent of our boundaries and still receiving forgiveness because it takes time to learn certain lessons. if that patience is not applied to adults, then everyone is doomed to failure. not only that, but we withhold love from people we deem as not acting right.

somewhere in my heart i know that i have to love my neighbor. and somewhere else in my heart i don't want anything to do with him unless i enjoy interacting with him.

friends are neighbors we choose, and it can be harder when they disappoint us. but only because we become so used to them that when they let us down we take it personally.

if we allow people to make mistakes, and accept that they will, and accept that it might take a long time for them to learn...how does that inform our expectations for leaders?

dave chappelle had a skit talking about an interaction he had with a transgender woman that did not paint her in a very kind light. and i was very upset with him. i wasn't the only one. but when he went on to continue making specials, i refrained from watching because i didn't want to support someone transphobic. i didn't want to risk that he would keep telling those kinds of jokes. but he ended up addressing that bit in a later special. i ended up coming back to him, because there was always something about his honesty and delivery, his artistry, that i was drawn to (like so many people). in the interview with letterman, he asks chappelle about if he wants to be a leader, acknowledging how letterman himself looked to dave for some sort of guidance. some sort of catharsis following the murder of george floyd. and it made me think about the leaders that the people choose versus the leaders that are groomed for us.

joe biden is the democratic nominee in our two-party presidential election, the results of which will be determined by an electoral college whose structure, like so many other things in this country, is in terrible need of revision. the people who are openly unenthusiastic about biden refer to his history, his involvement with legislation that was, like so many other things in this country, terribly imperfect and influenced by the politics of the time. biden had to change. as a public figure, as a political figure, he had to change with the times and with what the idea of a democrat meant, otherwise people like bernie sanders would stand a chance, and the two-party system would finally shift toward something more pluralistic, and the powers that be want to remain the powers that be. so while people condemn biden for his past, here i am wondering on one hand isn't he allowed to be imperfect? while at the same time wishing we could have had better leaders altogether from the start. leaders who were ahead of their time. leaders not so influenced by the politics and trends of the time. leaders who really make all of us feel confident they will be good for all of us. be what we really need in that office.

i guess what i'm saying is chappelle for president? but really what i'm saying is there has to be a balance between the degree of accountability a person holds for their behaviors and a degree of permission that we grant to people to learn from their mistakes and do better. and we shouldn't be electing anyone to office who hasn't demonstrated that they can learn from their mistakes. who remains the same self-interested, self-absorbed, capitalist pig they always were. i have every faith that chappelle will continue to evolve as a human being, because his craft and his passion are connected with that continuous journey of learning and experiencing and reflecting. i don't have as much faith in biden. but i want to. i want this not to be just another swing of the pendulum back toward the left before another shift toward the right again. i want our political arena to have more diversity. more progress. to really be for the people. even though that's not really the way it was set up. those were the words that were used, and they represent a good vision. a good potential.

i don't know what for the people really looks like. there are some examples around the world, but every place has its issues. no place on earth is perfect. (though ikaria might be close to it. and some of those other blue zones where people live the longest, happiest lives.)

i have no power in what happens next. the presidential election is in five days. i've cast my vote. millions of citizens have. maybe the outcome has already been decided, and this election business is more of a farce than we realize. but i still have no control over what happens, and i have to focus back on the arena where i do have power. myself. my own backyard. my own community. my own friends and family. my work. so that's what i'll do. and i'll always feel grateful for people like chappelle who are willing to speak up about things many of us have a hard time with, even within our communities. thank goodness for unofficial leaders who open up the spaces for us to keep the dialogue going. especially when they can help us to laugh. because we're all dealing with so many of the mistakes people have been allowed to make for hundreds of years.

#forgiveness #community #leadership #politics #philosophy #progress #processing

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