#that was how i signed my resignation letter at 15 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tunglo · 1 year

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I’ve been working on religious visions and the like in Wales to go with the UFO phenomena. I figure this guy is definitely Tumblr worthy...

Joseph Leycester Lyne, born 1837, had a kind of spiritual awakening slash nervous breakdown after receiving a severe dose of corporal punishment at St Paul’s School, London, at the age of 14 in 1852. He went on to study theology at Trinity College, Glenalmond, where he quickly become infamous for his eccentric obsessiveness. When he was ordained in 1860 it was under condition of not preaching for at least three years...

He became a curate in Plymouth and set up the Society for the Love of Jesus which soon boasted almost 40 members. Lyne decided this was clearly a sign that he should establish his own monastery. His first attempt was cut short when he fell ill and was sent to Belgium to recuperate.

But, surrounded by more Catholicism than he could ever get back home, Lyne spent his time studying the Rule of St Benedict and becoming still more determined. When he returned in 1861 he refused to be parted from his habit - even Charles Lowder, darling of the Anglo-Catholic movement, thought Lyne a step too far and made him resign his London curacy.

Lyne was undeterred.

Now styling himself Father Ignatius, in 1862 he issued a pamphlet calling for the revival of monasticism within the Church of England. He managed to get some land in Norwich for the cause - but the Bishop of Norwich refused him a licence to preach. By 1868 he had been barred from preaching in and around London too.

Not least because of the endless scandal and controversy surrounding both current and former members of the community. Homosexual relationships were said to be rife at the Norwich compound - Francis George Nobbs, a boy who had absconded with Brother Stanislaus, “was reported to have affirmed that not only had the Superior [Ignatius] been aware of their degeneracy, but that he had condoned and encouraged it, by performing on their behalf, and in his own church, a ceremony which in itself was blasphemy and sacrilege of the most revolting kind.”

In 1864 Samuel Hase, a 15 year old choirboy who was a great favourite at the monastery, was given a letter by Brother Augustine. When his Mother - who had already banned him from spending any more time at the Monastery - caught sight of it she had it printed in the local paper to warn other parents:

MY DARLING CHILD – I want you to promise me that during the Superior's absence you will strive as much as possible to keep from doing wrong, and that you will daily pray for God's grace and help to fulfil the same. You will not be allowed to be here much, if at all, as I rather expected you would, so that I am obliged to write that which I should have preferred saying to you in person, but oh! my dearest one! you will never realize how much I really love you, and how wretched I feel all day without meeting you. My love for you is so deep, so tender, that I cannot bear even to be separated from you, and when I do see you I have such a heavy weight at my heart, and you seem so careless and light-hearted and so taken up with others, and all this makes me worse. Then the Superior, who is always having fresh favorites and likings, seems so dreadfully afraid even of one's looking at you, that I am perfectly obliged to look calm and indifferent when my heart is literally burning for you. This love I NEVER felt for a living creature beside yourself, it seems to consume me, and it is quite a comfort to write it down to you. Sometimes I think you know your power over me, you give me such searching looks, and what do you meet with in retuirn? What but the most earnest, burning, tender look of love, as pure as that of angels. Were I and you in the world I would lavish every care, every affection upon you that money or time could procure, every wish should be gratified if possible. Sometimes on Sundays you have sat in your cassock and cotta [black robe with white surplice worn over it] looking so like an angel I could have worshipped you. I have striven to collect my thoughts to the solemn service on which I was engaged, but no! you heppen to look my way whilst I am at the lectern, and then I grow quite confused and my breath even seems to fail, and I wonder if you have ever seen it and guessed the cause. Morning, noon, and night, nothing haunts me but your sweet darling face; in my very dreams I see it; in a word, I am infatuated and wretched and wish sometimes I had never seen you. I feel I could clasp you in my arms and never unfold them whilst I looked into the depths of those sweet eyes. It is very weak, perhaps wicked, to write like this, but I scarcely know what I am doing, and feel forced to write and tell you all this. Suppose I were to go away from here (as they want me at home) when my noviciate is up in February, I feel that leaving you would make me intensely miserable and perhaps break my heart. I know you will only laugh at me. Is there anyone here loves you like this? No! I am sure of it. Why do you avoid me, or content yourself with a passing glance? What I am now going to say must be a secret to everyone if you don't wish me to be troubled. I want you one day (I will tell you the time) to to to Mason's, S. Giles', to have your portrait taken. Dear mama shall send the postage stamps to you so that it will not be with any money from here. I will manage your having a cotta and cassock without anyone's knowing here what you want it for. Burn this. I would not have anyone know anything about it for the world, and if you have the slightest respect for me you will do so. I do not ask it out of love, for I know and feel you have none for me, and this, indeed, is the reason of my misery. Good bye, dear, sweet child, and my prayers shall ever be for your peace and happiness. Your affectionate brother in Xt., † AUGUSTINE, O.S.B. [Order of St. Benedict]

Not ready to give up, in 1869, Lyne bought up some land near the ruins of Llanthony Priory in Capel-y-Fin. Welsh newspapers described the new ‘monastery’ as ‘a barn like edifice’ lacking any and all amenities. In May 1880 it was essentially a much bigger barn compound, but Lyne was looking to raise £60,000 to recreate the grand Llanthony Abbey church.

His chances looked bleak. Lyne continually owed money, his own father had launched a public campaign to denounce his son’s Popery in 1877, and he was even accused of holding novices against their will. Then, miraculously, on 30th August 1880 one of the nuns saw a ghostly sacrament. Later that evening, a small group of choir boys saw the Virgin Mary walk towards them and then disappear into a hedge.

The vision was seen again at the same point, marked by a rhubarb plant, on September 4th. This plant was used to make healing potions for the deep pocketed pilgrims who flocked to the Monastery in both the immediate aftermath and the annual services that followed.

As the Welsh Revival movements got going in the 1880s, Lyne distanced himself from the high Anglican church and made links with the nonconformist preachers. (Or, you know, the high Anglican church distanced itself from Lyne, and all the mystics, etc, who were too much for the established dissenters saw a kindred spirit in Lyne and his fellow ascetics.)

#father ignatious #victorian #history

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garbagefarm · 1 year

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Garbage Farm (#43)

2023-03-31, Garbage Farm session #43, spanning from Summer 15 Year 4 to Summer 27 Year 4

Cast:

me (@mothmute)

E.B. (@salamand3rin)

Kimi (@2kimi2furious)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Garbage himbo hubbies droning in unison: It’s summer... That means the house is full of flies.

NOT AGAIN

also don’t you guys clean up at all?

Flat possum...

(he’s playing possum)

(E.B. is going to jail)

I crack my knuckles and start completely rearranging the storage system.

It was an over-complicated mess with too many categories, and I’ve learned how to do better

also, the workbench is extremely good and should be the centerpiece

Kimi walks in on the girls fighting (Dwarf and Krobus), ‘til daddy Wizard had to step in

barely make it back to bed after working on fixing the storage all day

Baby!!!

Theophania Garbage!!

E.B. comes over an baptizes her using her watering can, as is tradition

Growing pains learning to use the partially-reorganized storage system mean me and E.B. eat shit staying out too late, Marlon found both of us face down in the mud

(I teleport to the desert by accident, a classic mistake)

the oak trees I planted last time have grown, I can start tapping them for the resin I need to rebuild my kegs

The seduction of Krobus......

me and Kimi happen to meet by chance in the secret woods

Pierre’s Prime Produce now looms over us. it’ll be fine, right?

E.B. got some cherry bombs for me, left them in my fridge

Elliott tells me he couldn’t be happier :’)

(gently probing the skulls....)

should we keep the storage chest full of bones? (hell yes, bone chest)

Kimi finds some garbage cranberry sauce

we resign ourselves to the necessity of building a slime hutch

Pizza is a big boy now!!

strange sound in the night...........

Elliott tells me that Bartholomew called him da-da :)

blueberry harvest is here, that should deal with Pierre’s Prime Produce, right?

nevermind, he sucks! and only wants veggies! and blueberries are fruit!

I find Haley taking photos in the forest, she tries to ride one of Marnie’s cows and falls into the mud (but she takes it in stride)

There’s a weird alien egg thing on the farm!

What’s a little accidental horse theft between friends?

Marlon heard about our slime hutch and came by to get us started

he claims a slime took out his eye. how??

I got a letter from Krobus! It had the recipe for Dark Signs, which I’m now going to use everywhere

E.B. got a catfish from Linus

The Garbage Ducks are stubborn, and refuse to swim

Robin bombs Pizza’s outgrown crib

KIMI FINDS THE PRISMATIC SHARD WE NEED

I get stuck seeing Sam’s band, Goblin Destroyer

Penny calls me “an honorary member of the band”, that’s gotta be one of the most savage burns in Stardew

they weren’t very good, and I went home with my goblin fully intact

Big melon is here!!

aaand the slime hutch is gone. phew

Kimi is torn between cashing the prismatic shard in for the sword, or donating it to complete the museum

Kimi, I’ve already done that, I can just buy you one

E.B. wants one too, if it’s not cost prohibitive

Kimi wants one only if it is

Pizza has insomnia :(

new cow is born, Snurtie!

Museum is complete!! My head fills with thoughts of Garbage...

Kimi is Wild Possum’s favorite

I killed a frost jelly, and Marlon is very pleased

running into Kimi in the storage shed, both out too late to make it back, RIP

Time for some exit explosions

“gptte,”

E.B. was knocked unconscious.....

NEXT TIME:

oops, we forgot to take a picture with the big melon!

finish Pierre’s Prime Produce with some of the radishes, we’re bound to get enough, right?

Moonlight Jellies

Planting for fall!!

buncha cranbs, buncha punkins,

probably gonna plant a buncha other stuff too

Deluxe the ducks’ coop?

maybe if we add more ducks, they’ll be more likely to swim

I wanna learn about burglary......

I might get into some coffee-making around my house......

#stardew valley #garbage farm

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bangguks · 1 year

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Hi! 💜

I'll use this space here like a diary page. Just a reminder of what was going on in life. A couple months ago I tried to do one, but I was in such a bad place and I realize I didn't want to ever remember the details of it again. At the beginning of last year I got a job, a good job, doing what I love the most. In one year I was promoted 2 times, professionally it was more than I had hoped for. The thing is that place was making me sick.

In the office room it was me plus 15 men. I've heard the nastiest things in this past year. Never directly at me, but I was fitted in their jokes. If I recorded them I could sue the company for sure. Prejudice, sexism, racism, homophobia, pedophilia, animal cruelty, whatever is bad and criminal I've heard, as joke. "They don't really mean what they said, they're good people", sure...

I was mentally ill, then physically. I was taking meds to sleep, I was eating horribly and losing weight, I was not a good company anymore, for I was always sad, with such a heavy energy, I really got into the darkest place a person can reach. There a not many friends around and I moved away from my family for this job, they are not much help anyways, as much as I said that I needed help they just kept saying "it will get better". And to think that all of that was for money, yk.

It's been 4 months since I'm looking for something else, and the "no's" are exhaustive too. So I asked for some days off in a chance to take my mind of it all. The thing is, when I came back it was like an avalanche, everything that made me sick was still there, my condition was their fault. So I couldn't take anymore and asked to quit.

My plan right now it's not the best, but it took me out of there. And I got say, the minute I signed my resignation letter I felt lighter, a smile from ear to ear appeared, not bothering one bit if those people are going to hate me now, good, let them know what they did.

So I oppened tumblr after so long and it reminded me how much this helped me, it was fun, it was my therapy and I always knew, but I had no strenght to do it anymore.

I'm working on putting my life back on track, without those dementors I know it'll work. And I want to be back here, even if no ones sees. But because it makes me happy.

Gotta say, even in the darkest places I could find a little happines with BTS, crazy thing to think about it, hard to explain, but it is what it is. I'll be forever grateful, even if not in the same intensity, but I'll always be rooting for them and for us, armys💜

#me #personal #venting #long text

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redjaybathood · 2 years

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So I didn't send it after all! (That was bugging me for like 15 mins) In my prompt Willis was less of a abuser and more of a drunk. Anyways Willis gets fired as a mechanic, picks up drinking and the relationships ended up strained while he was looking for jobs. Robs a bank for Two-face. Gets 10 years (7 for good behavior) he stops getting mail for a while.

Two years later gets an envelope from Jay telling him how cathrine used heroine to deal with the pain of cancer then died, and about how he was homeless for a while til he picked up by Bruce Wayne of all people. (then the note rambles about how Wayne is Batman and jace is robin, but that can't be true)

Jay sends him letters and books more often and they start reconnecting til they all stop out of nowhere. He steals a phone and looks ups his son (Wayne had a private funeral, batmans getting more violent)

He tries to piece together how it could of happened (maybe jace was telling the truth) regardless the only one to blame is Wayne

So he waits, and trains. It's all he can do (He's useless he thinks. As a father, as a husband, as a person) his sentence is served

He remember the old red hood gangs hideout (it's been long since abandoned) modifies a helmet, cleans up some guns, and prepares for the hunt

Yeah,I feel like it might just work with the thing I wrote earlier; though, like, I imagined more like... Lex Luthor still used Blackgate prisoners for the experiments on that islands, Artemis was still tasked to find escapees, among whom was Willis. Willis and her talked, Willis explained that he needs to go home for his son - he didn't hear from him for a while before ending up signing up for the programm, hoping to get out early and ending up, well. Here.

And Artemis feels for him; she lets him go. She repents her ways, because enough is enough. Breaks up with Luthor. Pursues her heritage, including finding and bringing home the Bow of Ra. And one of the tips bringing her to Gotham, where she hears that Black Mask is receiving a shipment from Luthor, shipment that is related to Quarac. It was, she thinks, the Bow.

Meanwhile, Willis, who escaped the island and returned to Gotham, finds out about Jason's death. Finds out about Robin's death: two of the Robins. One of them died just as Jason stopped sending him letters. And he looked really, really alike. Mask and all notwithstanding.

Willis puts two and two together. He puts a crew together as well. He's Red Hood not because of the Joker, per se - he will kill Joker, no question about it, but he doesn't particularly feel anything about Joker. But Batman? But Bruce? Who supposed to be safe, better than Willis, who supposed to be taking care of his boy? Yeah. That's his real target. Red Hood, in this case, is a remembrance. Batman created the Joker, his nemesis, transforming a simple robber into someone who will never, ever let him live. And Willis is well on the way to his own transformation. Only, he has another plan for his next identity (more on that later).

So Willis conscripts other guys. Guys like him. With their difficulties. With their families. With their desire to just make something better for themselves. To get better. He's upfront about his story, he isn't worried Batman finds out. Let him. Let him know the reckoning is here.

He does things a little differently from Jason. For one, he isn't, in fact, trained in gazillion firearms or multitude martial arts. He's okay; but combat isn't his forte. He doesn't need it. He has two advantages: he knows the city, and he knows people. How all of it operates, coexists. How it could be improved. That's what he offers his men: an opportunity, not to become a top dog, but to make it so you don't need to be a top dog to have a decent life.

Black Mask needs to go. They corner him off, buy, convince or scare off his people. Rob him. Make diversions. Sick IRS on him, even. Blackmail the mayor who's in his pocket into resigning. Whatever works, really. Things become tough, though, when Black Masks decides to hit back. The usual goons with guns and Molotov cocktails? Hood and Outlaws can handle it. But there's a whisper of a weapon, something the world hasn't seen before, that came into possession of the Black Mask - and it arrives into Gotham soon, and it will be used against RHATO.

So Willis decides to steal it from him. Only then Batman shows up, and then Artemis, and then the weapon turns out to be a person. Bizarro.

When Willis shows up, he helps to calm down disoriented and panicking Biz, along with Artemis. They make their getaway from Batman and Black Mask together. Willis offers them to join RHATO. Artemis needs whatever information Black Mask has on the Bow of Ra, so she decides to stick around, if Willis can help her. He promises he does.

Together, the three of them fight off the meta assassins Black Masks orders shortly after; steal Kryptonite from him and Dr. Freeze. Long story short, Biz becomes smart for a while, defeats Black Mask, helps Willis get to Joker without unleashing him onto Gotham, and then, trap Batman and Robin.

Willis clocked Jason, and then Bruce's identity pretty easy, with corresponding death dates, official stories that aren't quite matching... But, with the new tiny Robin? It's a bit hard. He has no idea who this tiny little guy is. So. What Willis plans, actually, it's to trap them so he can unmask Robin and talk to him. Try and persuade him, retelling the story of his Jason. Tim, of course, says something "RIP to Jason but I'm different". Willis says - okay; I won't hesitate to tell your parents on you, though. Tim is like. I don't have them? Bruce is my parent? Kinda? But I'm lying to him that I have an uncle so he won't adopt me?

And Willis is like, wait, what?

So, in a surprising turn of events, Willis adopts Tim. Forbids him to be Robin. There's blackmail involved. Same goes for Bruce, who's forbidden to be Batman, unless he wants his identity to be revealed. Which will put the risk on the rest of his kids (Dick and Cassandra; Damian and Duke aren't there yet, and Stephanie hadn't came back yet).

The twist of it, with Bizarro and Artemis help, Willis does end up reforming Gotham's criminal underground to the better. With minimal violence, except if you hurt kids, or sell drugs to kids. Everything else is just business. Except now that Bruce realizes who Willis is and that he actually wants to do good, he decides to work together with him. Create more jobs, affordable housing, counseling, etc. There are still people who prefer the underworld. But, like, less? A lot less? Not because of it's this or starving? It's something.

Willis initially wanted to assume Batman's identity; but as they grew closer, both having to deal with this immense guilt over Jason's death, and both wanting to make the city a safer place; they understand each other better. Batman is Batman again, Willis is Red Hood. Doing what Batman can't - keeps criminals in line, whereas Batman catches the ones who don't.

They also end up marrying as soon as New Jersey law allows it. They both are Tim's adopted parents now.

In between of all the Gotham's drama, Willis manages to help Artemis with the Bow of Ra; he also realizes that Bizarro has an addiction to Kryptonite earlier and helps to deal with it in a safer way than just going cold turkey. Bruce, on the other hand, asks Clark for help and they fix Bizarro's brain damage, so he's now as smart as he's been when he's high; even if the speech center was irreparably damaged and his speech patterns still are a bit stilted.

All in all, happy end.

And then, out of nowhere, Bruce's biological son shows up; with Willis's biological son. Who's also Bruce's adopted son.

And Jason is like - you married my fucking piece of shit father? You adopted a boy and a girl? And Dick, you fixed relationship with him? You have a fucking dog now and peace 'n quiet in Gotham? Joker is dead?

Damian is like - I should have known. Mother did remind me, that as long as my father gets to know me, he will love me, no matter if he has other children. I thought she meant you. I mean, having you as a brother is bad enough.

Jason to Willis: so you decided the best way to get revenge on Batman was to marry him? How does it work?

So all in all, Jason and Damian are confused and unsure of their place in the family; Tim and Cass are unsure about theirs, with the bio kids back home. Dick is the only one like - thank fuck I moved out ages ago, I literally couldn't care less.

#willis todd #artemis from bana mighdall #bruce wayne #bizarro #bruce willis #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #asks #willis is red hood au

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satorugojowidow · 2 years

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Do you know how the legal system around minors work in Japan? Because itadori is a minor in the serie, he just lost what we can assume was his legal guardian and only known family so.. Did someone from the school adopt him ? Did he just legally disappeared from everywhere, since he should have presented at least a legal tutor letter to resign from his previous school.. Like wtf?

I can’t give exact information about this because I’m not Japanese, nor do I keep up with their laws and I know very little of their social system. I will answer with the information I got doing a little research.

I believe we all are a little wtf everytime a child or teen is presented in anime living alone. Regarding JJK there are two situations that call my attention: Yuuji signing his grandpa's papers in the hospital at the age of 15 and Fushiguro siblings.

In the case of Fushiguro siblings, the fact they were left living alone for so long is considered child neglect by japanese laws. However, it is not an extremely rare situation that children will live alone for short periods when they are young. In the case of childrens is not so uncommon they will spend some days of the week alone at home (not fully living alone), and for teenagers at a certain age they could live alone if they need to move to a dorm close to their school. They could even rent a dorm or apartment with their parents' permission. The thing is that it is socially accepted that children won’t be 24/7 accompanied by a tutor, so neighbors won’t call the police if they know a childrens is alone for a few days. This is because Japan is considered a safe place.

Nevertheless, the Fushiguro spent too much time alone (like a year). Someone should call the police. If this didn’t happen, that could be for two reasons: 1) the neighborhood where they lived. It seems they lived in a poor area, maybe the neighbors were people who rented for short periods, people minding their own business who didn’t pay attention to childrens that were alone but looked fine (thanks to Tsumiki taking care of both). They even went to the school. Maybe the neighbors assumed the parents were working in another city and regularly sending money to the childrens and that seemed enough for them. 2) the school registration, if they were left alone after the year school begened then they didn’t need their parents to show up to the school. Childrens that walk alone to school are a common thing. At least if they get in trouble, the parents won’t be called to the school. Of course they could have called the parents for meetings and that regular stuff, but some parents never showed up to those kinds of things and they live with their children (I can say that like a teacher myself). The fact that both seemed well because Tsumiki was doing home tasks and they have money to eat, they didn’t seem like abandoned. Still the school failed here, but school failing is not so uncommon.

In the case of Yuuji, maybe he was emancipated with his grandfather's permission when this one fell sick. Probably the life insurance of Wasuke granted the economic resource for Yuuji to be emancipated. I couldn’t find any information about emancipation with tutor consent in Japan, so this is just speculation.

Is easier to assume that jujutsu tech took the custody of Yuuji but that won’t explain how he was able to sign the hospital papers of his grandpa.

I believe Gege does a critic of japanese society in the way they are not granting children's rights. As I said I don’t know much about Japan but I know a little about children's right and is possible to say that Japan is failing to fully guaranteed all the points of Convention on the Rights of the Child of 1989 that Japan ratified in 1994, as its government has been called many times for this issue. An interesting thing in the matter is the words that the U.N. Committee on the Rights of the Child chose to urge Japan to do more for children's rights: “We urged (Japan) to take measures to ensure that children enjoy their childhood, without their childhood and development being harmed by the competitive nature of society,” That sound like Nanami “let childrens be childrens”.

#ask adari #jjk reply #childrens right is a global urge

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

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Good morning/afternoon/night!

Could I get RFA and Vanderwood with soldier/mercenary MC, if possible?

Nice writings!

RFA with a solider/ mercenary MC

Hey there! Of course! I hope you like it! The sources I have are Crash landing on you, best Kdrama, Descendants of the sun, still watching it and kind of Nacy CIS. But of course I also googled 😂 hope you still enjoy! Please request again for Vanderwood and the minor duo, I will make them separately ( OLD REQUEST! ) Love you!

Jumin

,,I can’t believe you,’’ you laughed as you took a sip of your water.

,,What?’’ your husband asked you and smirked.

Of course he knew what you were talking about.

,,Well, you took me as your personal mercenary just to make sure that I won’t work for anyone else. That’s absurd. I mean, that’s my work. Do you know how much hard work I invested into it?’’ you asked your husband.

It was true, Jumin planned this because he wanted you to stay safe by his side, where he could watch you and make sure that no one would harm you, even though he knew that you were a mercenary.

,,I know, and who says that you can’t protect me? Just because I am your husband and have enough bodyguards, doesn’t mean that I don’t need a mercenary by my side,’’ he told you and got up from his seat.

Suddenly, you pulled his hand. Jumin never knew that you had such strength.

And before he could ask you why you pulled him down, he felt a cold rush over his head.

In the next moment, the window broke in a million pieces.

,,Someone just tried to shoot you. I guess you’re right,’’ you hissed and hugged him to protect him.

,,Your job is to protect me,’’ he began, ,,but my job as a husband is to protect you,’’ he whispered and nodded to his bodyguards and used his body to shield you.

,,Thank you,’’ he still mumbled.

Zen

,,So sexy,“ Zen mumbled as you approached him, sexy lingerie on your skin, covering the parts of your body he wanted to see and explore the most.

Finally, the time had come, he thought.

But Zen was so wrong.

,,Salute Sir!“ you said over the phone, your voice completely changed.

It was as if you were another person.

,,Yes, Sir, yes!“ you said again before hanging up the phone and quickly changing clothes, leaving Zen stunned.

He got to see the parts he wanted to see, but the mood got totally destroyed.

It didn’t happen for the first time that you were called to work. Your tasks as the captain had to be done after all.

,,I love you. Please stay safe,“ he mumbled and softly touched the scar on your arm.

,,I will, Zen. Sorry for that. Thank you for staying by my side,“ you said and kissed his cheek, taking your gear and leaving for your next mission.

Yoosung

Three years passed ever since you got dismissed from your tasks in the military.

You got pregnant and both you and Yoosung decided that the best way to protect your baby and future children was to stop what you were doing now, which was being a soldier.

,,I should have stopped back when I met you. That way I wouldn’t have been in such pain,’’ you mumbled as you signed your resignation letter.

Yoosung, your husband, observed you.

,,Mc,’’ he mumbled and hugged you, holding your head at his chest as you slowly began to sob.

The sobs were getting louder and louder and Yoosung realized that he would destroy your dream.

,,What if you stayed?’’ he asked you.

You looked up to him, your red puffy eyes made his heart tremble.

You were so cute and so fragile at the same time.

Yoosung wanted to hold you as he had the urge to protect you.

,,What?’’ you asked him, unable to understand what he wanted to tell you.

,,I mean, you can stay there. Not as a soldier but maybe as a...teacher? A mentor?’’ he asked you.

And so you did.

Thanks to your husband you were able to stay in your job and do the things you enjoyed without hurting the love of your life growing below your heart.

Jaehee

You don‘t need to go!“ Jaehee said as you put on your uniform.

,,Jaehee Kang, before the both of us got married I told you and asked if you were sure. You assured me that you would never try to hold me back!“ you told her and glared at your wife.

Ten days passed and you just had to go again to school for your training.

In Jaehee’s eyes, you did a splendid job, but also a very dangerous one.

She couldn’t stop herself from feeling scared when the memories came up.

Jaehee was alone for a very long time. Losing both her parents and losing you would kill her and she was sure of it.

,,I promise you, I will come back. We can enjoy a few days of vacation, but I need this training. Please trust me,“ you kissed her, trying to make her feel better.

She knew that you could make everything work, however, she still worried about you.

,,You’re watching too many Kdramas,“ you laughed.

Of course you could understand her fears after what she had to go through.

,,The reality is different, trust me,’’ you kept trying to assure her and left the apartment with your brown uniform.

Jaehee watched you from her window and like every time you guys had to part ways, she prayed for you to come back safe… something her mother never did.

Saeyoung

When you got locked up in the apartment, you made sure that every single connection to you disappeared.

To be honest, you weren’t even scared.

You experienced a lot of death missions so this wasn’t anything to be worried about yet.

Just when Saeyoung arrived, you became a bit cautious.

Not even that you needed to get worried.

No, instead, you finally had someone to talk to face to face, except that he was in a bad mood.

And so you fought back.

One day, he was really stressed and you knew that the situation wasn’t an easy one, so you decided to take out your rage with sport.

You didn’t know, however, that he observed you for a short time.

,,You look… as if this is something you do regularly,’’ he commented.

,,Indeed, I do. I guess I’ll die anyway, so I’ll tell you. I’m a mercenary,’’ you told him, leaving him shocked.

,,So, rely on me, I will fight for you,’’ you whispered and began to approach him.

Saeyoung didn’t even flinch when you approached him and tried to put him down to show him what you were able to do.

,,You are a hundred years too young for me,’’ he told you and for the first time in recent days, he smiled.

,,Think so?’’ you laughed when you could use all your strength to come on top of him.

,,I don’t think so, so acknowledge me. You need me.’’

And that’s how your story began...

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

10.03.2021// 08:15 MEST

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bunny-wk-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Some News & Explanations

So, it's been a while, near a year I think, since I last posted anything really 'major' here or anywhere else. I did share a few pieces over on FF.net, but I wanted to explain the reason I was basically MIA for the past year.

2020 started off on a bad note for me and my family, which had nothing to do with the pandemic. Nearing the end of 2019, we noticed that my grandfather was not doing so well, and after learning that he had suffered a stroke and told no one, not even our family doctor, things quickly went south. Multiple tests were done, and each time he got worse and worse, until finally after New Years, he was finally diagnosed with ALS. Now those of you who don't know, it's a crippling disease. If you're young, you have a chance at a long life with treatment and medicine. If you're over 50, it's aggressive, quick, and painful. We literally watched my grandfather whither away for three months before he finally passed away in March.

March 2020 was shitty all around. My grandfather passed, his funeral was held a week later, although it had been delayed as Corona had just been declared as a pandemic so heavy lockdowns had been put into effect here in Germany. And to add insult to injury, some ass used a 'legal loophole' to swindle money out of me by claiming I was parked on private property. I did pay it, forgetting I did have insurance/coverage to help me for such situations, but when you're in mourning, thought process is pretty much nonexistent.

April 2020 was the first time I was affected by the pandemic as the company I was working with at the time had to close for two weeks since a few workers had tested positive as well as a lack of workers since some did come from France but were unable to cross the boarder due to the harsh lockdowns.

May 2020 things were looking a little on the bright side as I could officially move into my now apartment. Not only due to the fact that my sister finally found her own apartment close to where she was going to school and work, but because city hall was once again open and I could register to be a citizen of the city. Only to discover the apartment not only had water damage, but mold as well. Which was made worse since the landlord mentioned he did not have house insurance. Which is a big No-No here in Germany. Regardless if you live in the space or not, if you own it, you are required to have it insured in your name. Let's just say it made fixing it up and getting paid due to damages was made difficult because of his lack of insurance.

June 2020 I was once again living with my parents since the apartment needed to be cleaned and dehumidified. So, I was under stress since I was living out of their office and out of a duffle bag.

July 2020 I could finally move into the apartment and register with the city. Along with getting house insurance, since, as a tenant, I would need that, and it would help should any other issues crop up.

August 2020 I had to go through the process of quitting with the temp firm in order to be signed on officially with the company I was working with/for. It was a process as I was constantly asked for various forms of my resignation letters as well as various forms of sending it in.

September 2020 my car broke down. I could drive maybe for 15 minutes before the engine overheated. Which was enough time to get from work, to my parents, and from their place to our mechanic. He shared with me that the cooling system for the engine was basically leaking. It could be fixed for anywhere between 1000 - 2000 €, but with how old the car was, it wasn't worth it since he spotted other issues that would later cause problems that would either need to be fixed or replaced altogether. For an imported car from the US, it would be a timely and costly in the long run, so I needed to buy a new car.

October 2020 finally got a new (used) car which I'm happy with, still am to this day. Only to be laid off at the end of the month. The reason being was the low numbers of our product from the year; not just due to the pandemic, but also from a fire happening at a sister factory that slowed in us getting the supplies needed for us in production. All of which they had known since September, when they hired me on.

November 2020 went back to the temp company and immediately got a new job. Along with that, the restrictions that had been slightly lifted during the summer were once again in effect, along with a curfew.

December 2020 was actually calm, and I used this time to finally relax with my family.

January - March 2021 basically this is Germany's tax season, and I discovered that my temp company failed to give me my tax papers, so running around there. I was mostly quiet during this time, so I had planned on returning to both here and fanfic in general as I was comfortable with the company I was working with. Until they announced that they would be closing the location I was working at and moving their operation to a city that is literally in the middle of nowhere and would take me some 2 hours to travel to get there.

April 2020 was spent negotiating a new place to work with my temp company.

May - June 2020 a new job, a bit further away than I would have liked, but the work was alright and my coworkers were sociable. Until I was let go. And this was with the company lying to my temp firm, that I was caught playing on my phone during working hours. Which is impossible when you're working on a machine that needs to be watched, otherwise it was likely to jam. I learned the truth when I went in the next day to return my time-stamp chip that it was due to the reason that the next week there wouldn't be enough work to keep me. My temp firm said they might cross the company off their list of potential partners when I shared that bit of information, along with a few other details.

July - August 2020 so new job, closer to home, better pay, and with a few old coworkers from the company that wanted to close shop and move away. (I later learned they want to return back down to the area I live in, so, who knows what's going on with the higher ups). My family and I are also in the process of changing insurance brokers, as our old one was swindling us out of money, which we wouldn't have known if he had bothered to take the time to reply to our calls or messages or simply let us know that he wouldn't be in his office at certain times for whatever reason. Seriously, a simple 'I'm currently unavailable today, please contact me tomorrow' or 'I'll be out of office between XX to XX. Please wait until I return to ask any questions or address any issues' would have been better than waiting weeks to a month for a reply of any kind.

I'm sure I've explained this at least at some points during the past year, but then things just kept happening. Which then postponed and delayed my return more and more. I humbly apologize because of this and I ask for everyone's forgiveness. I do hope to return sooner rather than later, and if things continue to look as positive as they have these past two months, it looks like I'll finally be able to do so.

TM;DR 2020 sucked for more than just because of the pandemic, and hopefully I'll return sooner rather than later.

#news #announcements #chit chat

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cloudywriter · 4 years

Note

Okay, hear me out... A Nessian carnival situation?

first, i need more prompts, send whatever & alright this one took me a sec but then i got into and i’m pretty happy with it. sorry, it’s such a long built up but it’ll come. pretty swift nessian fix here ya go:

~~~

A Tale of Questionable Carnival Rides

~~~

Nesta huffed, checked the time on her phone again, and rolled her eyes. It was only 9:32pm now and the endless stream of kids and parents was still steadily flowing and likely would be for another hour or so.

Nesta checked again. 9:33pm.

It wasn’t that she hated the annual carnival fundraiser for the school, she liked planning it and making sure everything ran smoothly, being student council president that’s usually what her job description was. But not this year, no, this year Nesta was in charge of running one of the mini-game stands as Clare, who was supposed to be managing it, came down with the flu.

To say the least, Nesta did not enjoy dealing with groups of screaming children and their hovering parents. Honestly, she’d rather slam her hand into a car door than spend another hour watching kids fail to knock down three pins then become upset because they don’t get a prize for losing.

She was able to handle the first couple of kids that shed some tears and the few parents that wanted a pity prize, but as the night wore on her patience began to run thin.

A young blonde boy, maybe eight or nine years old, was now making his way up to Nesta’s booth followed by presumably his mother.

Nesta gave her the same, plastered-on smile she’d been giving all night to the woman approaching.

“Hi, three balls please,” the mother said sweetly, handing a five-dollar bill to Nesta over the table.

Nesta gave her a small nod and plucked three red balls from the bucket beside her, handing one to the little boy.

“Alright, all you have to do is knock down all three pins and you’ll get a prize,” she stated her usual rehearsed line.

Of course, the little boy missed his first shot, his aim a little too low, Nesta passed him a second ball in response. Once again, his ball missed its mark and the boy let out a little sound of frustration.

“It’s okay, you’ve got one more shot,” Nesta explained before setting the final ball before him.

The boy swiped up the plastic, red orb and weighed it in his hand. He turned his attention back to the three pins still sitting untouched atop the table adorned with a red and orange plaid, fall-appropriate cloth; he chucked the ball, grazing the top pin enough to knock it off.

“I did it! I did it!” The boy cried punching the air in triumph.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but you actually have to knock down all three to win,” Nesta frowned, feeling a little sympathetic for the kid.

“That’s crap!” He shouted. Nesta shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, “I’m sorry, that’s just the rules.”

The mother’s mouth was set in a thin line as she rested her hand on his arm. “C’mon honey, maybe you’ll have better luck at ring toss?” She offered. However, he looked up at her unimpressed, “No! This booth is the only one with the dragon stuffed animal! I got the top pin!”

The mother’s eyes flitted back up to Nesta. “Can you just give him the dragon? I mean he did hit one and I already gave you money, I’m sure that dragon is cheaper than five dollars.”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I can do that,” Nesta reiterated.

The mother huffed, obviously getting upset now and started digging around in her purse. She slapped down another five-dollar bill in front of Nesta, “There? Is that enough? Just give him the damn toy.”

Nesta was a little torn on how to handle the situation, the last bit of patience she possessed slowly disintegrating. “Look, I can give you another three balls for you to try again but I can’t just give out the prizes for some money.”

The mother rolled her eyes, slamming her hand down by her side; “He’s just a kid, he’s not going to hit all of the pins and don’t try to tell me that dragon is worth more than a few bucks. This is just a high school fundraiser, save me the trouble and give my kid the damn prize.”

The son looked up at his mother with a pout.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to hear that your son has no hand-eye coordination but frankly it’s not my problem. If you want to try and pay your way through another game I’d suggest the bean bag toss, my sister Elain is a softy.” Nesta gave her a sickly sweet smile and crossed her arms over her chest.

At that, the woman’s face turned a tint of red. “Okay, who is running this? I’d like to speak to one of your teachers or the principal, you’re being extremely rude.”

“I’m being rude? Lady, I’m just trying to get in my community service hours.”

The woman’s nostrils flared and Nesta could tell she was about to crack, she started to speak her voice significantly raised. “Alright, missy-”

“Whoa, hey, what is going on here?” Another voice chimed in.

Nesta groaned, her head turning to face the student council vice president who had now joined the interaction.

“Are you running this thing? This girl has been astonishingly ill-mannered,” the woman began. Cassian held up his hand, “I am not the one in charge, unfortunately, you’re actually looking at the boss right now.”

The woman gave Nesta another scowl, snatched up the five-dollar bill that still rested on the table, and grabbed her son’s hand dragging him off into the crowd. Cassian didn’t turn to leave though, “I’m actually surprised you didn’t get into a fight with a crazy mom earlier. I almost left your general vicinity thinking I wouldn’t have to break up anything, good thing I didn’t.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms, letting them rest at her side again. “My hero,” she added sarcastically.

Cassian smiled. “C’mon, sweetheart, why don’t we go for a little cooldown ferris wheel ride.”

“Really?” Nesta asked, gesturing with her head towards the sad scrap of chipped brightly painted metal that was the ‘ferris wheel’ the school decided to splurge on and rent out. “You’d get in a cart and the whole thing would topple over.”

Cassian only shook his head. “Nah, c’mon, Archeron. What, are you scared of heights?”

“Yes, I’m deathly afraid of being lifted twenty feet into the air, Cassian.”

Cassian didn’t respond, just held out his arm. Nesta sighed, deciding she’d rather risk her life on a very janky carnival ride than work that damn game. She slipped out from behind the tables and looped her arm through Cassian’s, “I hope you know you’re paying whatever ridiculous rate they have going.”

“I suspected as much,” he answered, pulling her across the high school parking lot which had been transformed into the makeshift carnival.

They stood together in the small line and Nesta closed her eyes, tipping her head back breathing in the scent of corn dogs and funnel cakes deeply. The student letting kids on and off the ride collected Cassian’s money and they stepped into their cart. It did audibly creak as Cassian and all his muscles took up residence, Nesta settled in across from him.

“How have you enjoyed working a booth? Think next year you’ll decide to do it again rather than running around making sure everything’s working out?” Cassian asked, stretching his arms behind him.

“I think if I get stuck handing kids balls to throw at pins or something like that again I will abdicate my throne.”

Cassian raised his brow. “It can’t be that bad.”

Nesta shrugged. “Why do you care? You’re probably thinking up a scheme to make sure I end up on game duty again so you can have my presidential status.”

“Nah, I’m not after your position I swear. I don’t even like being vice president.”

Now it was Nesta’s turn to raise a brow. “Then why do you keep doing it?”

Cassian hesitated a moment. “It’s the only way I get to spend time with you,” he confessed.

“You’re telling me for two years you’ve run for vice president so you could hang out with me?” Nesta asked, disbelief coating her tone.

Cassian nodded.

“You took on the extra burden of full hour meetings twice a week before school, put in countless hours of budgeting, fundraising, making posters, all that jazz just to spend time with me?”

Cassian nodded again looking as if he were trying much too hard to stay cool and calm. “Romantic, isn’t it?” He smirked like he was ready for Nesta to melt into his arms.

“No, that’s so fucking stupid,” Nesta crossed her arms.

Only then did Cassian’s built up nonchalant aura falter. “W-what?”

“Yeah dumbass, you literally could have just asked me out.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever say yes,” now Cassian was leaning forward, his face exuding a plethora of emotions.

Nesta leaned forward, her face only a few inches from Cassian’s own.

“I would’ve said yes,” she almost whispered. Cassian’s eyes searched Nesta’s face for any sign that she was playing a cruel joke, he found none. “Nesta?” he asked softly.

“Mhm?”

“Would you really go out with me?” His eyes were wide and hopeful, the innocence of it all made Nesta smile. Especially knowing how much of a goofball Cassian was, it was different seeing him so genuine and unguarded.

“I really would,” she answered at last. She and Cassian just stared at each other for a moment, the corners of their lips upturned.

“Nes?” Cassian’s voice broke. Nesta raised her eyebrows slightly, encouraging him to continue. “Is it okay if I give you my letter of resignation on the date, too?”

Nesta let out a small giggle and rested her forehead against his. “You’re such a doof.”

~~~

alright, well i hope you liked it! also thank you guys so much for all the love on my last nessian prompt fic, usually, i only get like 15-20 notes a post so all the attention that one got made me really happy. also, i promise i'm still working on my other stories!

#nessian au #nessian fanfiction #nessian #nesta x cassian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #a court of thorns and roses #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #acotar #modern au #carnival au #answered prompts #prompt fic #cassian #sjmaas #sjm fanfic

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

Link

The months leading up to Nov. 3, 2020 were, for Donald Trump, almost a carbon copy of what he did in advance of the presidential election four years previously: He thumbed tweets, whined at his rallies and complained to anyone who would listen that the election had been “rigged” by Democrats. Of course, after election eve 2016, we never heard another peep out of him about the dastardly Democrats and the wily ways they had rigged the election against him, because he won.

But from the moment that his network of pet poodles at Fox News called Arizona for Joe Biden in November of 2020, causing a series of eruptions in the private quarters at the White House, culminated in a call to Fox executives to demand that the network reverse its Arizona projection, Trump understood that this time it would be different. He would lose.

Trump turned immediately to the courts, filing more than 60 federal lawsuits in the battleground states he lost claiming that the election had been “stolen” from him. But as one case after another went down to defeat or outright dismissal, he turned to loyalist loons like former general Michael Flynn, online conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, former White House adviser Sebastian Gorka, My Pillow guy Mike Lindell and — wait for it — the Proud Boys to push his obsession that he hadn’t lost, and that the election had been rigged by nefarious forces.

See if this doesn’t sound familiar. On Dec. 12, several thousand pro-Trump demonstrators showed up in Washington for at least two rallies, one on the Mall and the other on the steps of the Supreme Court, to protest its decision the previous day to throw out a lawsuit filed by the attorney general of Texas seeking to bar the states of Georgia, Michigan, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania from casting their electoral ballots for Biden. The court issued a brief unsigned order on Dec. 11 saying that Texas had no “interest in the manner in which another state conducts its elections” and dismissed the lawsuit. A few days earlier, the court had dismissed another suit filed by Pennsylvania Republicans seeking to throw out that state’s Biden electors, thus disenfranchising millions of voters.

Trump was watching closely. With Proud Boys marching through downtown Washington in mock-military formations shouting “Move out!” and “1776!” Trump tweeted "Wow! Thousands of people forming in Washington (D.C.) for Stop the Steal. Didn’t know about this, but I’ll be seeing them! #MAGA." A bit later, he tweeted, “WE HAVE JUST BEGUN TO FIGHT!!!"

He must have liked what he saw on the streets of the nation’s capital that Saturday, because seven days later, on Dec. 19, Trump was tweeting “Big protest in D.C. on January 6th. Be there, will be wild!" The next week, on Dec. 26, he tweeted "The ‘Justice’ Department and the FBI have done nothing about the 2020 Presidential Election Voter Fraud, the biggest SCAM in our nation’s history, despite overwhelming evidence. They should be ashamed. History will remember. Never give up. See everyone in D.C. on January 6th."

After seven hours of testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee last Saturday by former acting Attorney General Jeffrey Rosen, and five hours of testimony before the same committee on Friday by Rosen’s former acting deputy, Richard Donoghue, we now know that behind the scenes, Trump was very busy.

On Dec. 15, the day after Bill Barr announced that he would be leaving his post as attorney general, Trump summoned Rosen to the Oval Office and told him he wanted the DOJ to file legal briefs supporting the lawsuits he had not yet lost challenging election results in battleground states. He demanded that Rosen appoint special counsels to investigate Dominion Voting Systems, which had provided voting machines in multiple states. Rosen demurred, citing what Barr had already reported to Trump, which was that the DOJ had investigated his charges and had found no evidence of widespread or significant voter fraud.

Rosen told the Judiciary Committee that Trump called him almost daily trying to get him to have the Department of Justice declare that the presidential election was “corrupt” and announce that the department was initiating investigations of “election irregularities” in multiple states, including Georgia, Nevada, Arizona, Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin — all states Trump had lost narrowly to Biden.

Rosen continued to defer and delay on the phone, and Trump started talking with the acting head of the DOJ’s civil division, Jeffrey Clark, who was more amenable to Trump’s conspiracies. Rosen described to the Judiciary Committee five separate “encounters” with Clark over his plotting behind Rosen’s back with Trump, all of which took place between Dec. 23 and Jan. 3.

Trump became fixated on his narrow defeat in Georgia, placed a now-famous phone call to Gov. Brian Kemp on Dec. 5, trying to get him to pressure the state legislature to overturn Biden’s victory in the state. Kemp deflected, telling him that he had no power to call for investigations into signatures on absentee ballots or any of the other things Trump was urging him to do.

On Dec. 27, at Trump’s urging, Clark produced a letter dated the following day he wanted Rosen and Donoghue to sign. Aware that the governor of Georgia had rejected Trump’s entreaties, Clark’s letter amounted to a DOJ legal analysis that the state legislature could call itself into session without the governor’s authority, reject the electors pledged to Joe Biden and appoint its own slate of Trump electors. “Time is of the essence,” the Clark letter pleaded, because Congress would convene in joint session to certify the election on Jan. 6.

Rosen and Donoghue refused to sign the letter, telling Clark “this is not even within the realm of possibility.”

That didn’t end it. Clark apparently demanded a meeting with Rosen and Donohue, which took place at the DOJ on New Year’s Eve. Clark told them Trump was planning on firing Rosen and replacing him with Clark so he could carry out his plan to manipulate the Georgia legislature into appointing a new slate of Trump electors. Clark told his two bosses that he was meeting with Trump the next week to carry this out.

Instead, Clark met with Trump a day later and showed him the letter, discussing their plan for a Trumpian “Saturday Night Massacre.” Rosen and Donoghue demanded a meeting with Trump, at which they planned on telling him that the entire senior leadership of the Justice Department would resign en masse if Trump appointed Clark as acting attorney general.

Before that meeting took place, news emerged that Trump had placed a lengthy call to the Georgia secretary of state, Brad Raffensperger, demanding that the latter “find” enough votes to overturn the election results in his state. “I just want to find 11,780 votes, which is one more than we have,” Trump said, according to a tape of the call obtained by the Washington Post.

The Oval Office meeting between Trump, Rosen, Donoghue and Clark went on the next evening, attended by White House counsel Pat Cipollone, who advised the president not to fire Rosen because such a move would trigger congressional investigations and distract from Trump’s attempts to overturn the election. After three hours, the meeting broke up, with Rosen and Donoghue still in their jobs.

Rosen and Donoghue told the Senate Judiciary Committee that with only 17 days remaining until the presidential inauguration, they believed they had avoided a constitutional crisis. But we all know what happened three days later, on Jan. 6, when a violent mob of Trump supporters breached the Capitol building and delayed for several hours the certification of the electoral ballots which made Joe Biden president.

Between the early hours of Nov. 4, when Trump first realized he had lost the election, and Jan. 6, when the assault on the Capitol dominated every news cycle until the inauguration (and beyond), Trump was all over the place in his attempts to overturn the election. He was consumed with the lawsuits being filed around the country on his behalf — but was losing them, one after another. He was obsessed with following conspiracy theories about Biden ballots being carried by Special Forces soldiers from Germany and stuffed into ballot boxes in battleground states, about mysterious computers and satellites controlled by Italy switching Biden votes for Trump votes in battleground states, and multiple other outlandish conspiracies.

But beginning on Dec. 12, with the Proud Boys march through Washington and the demonstrations on the Mall and at the Supreme Court, Trump became fixated on holding a rally on Jan. 6 that he believed could prevent the certification of electoral ballots taking place that day. Two days later, he began his campaign to get the Department of Justice to join his plan to pressure state legislatures in a handful of states he had lost to throw out Biden electors and appoint their own slates of Trump electors.

He tweeted on Dec. 19, 26, 27 and 30, all dates coinciding with his pressure on Rosen and Donoghue to use the Department of Justice to help him overturn the election. On Jan. 1, the day he met with Jeffrey Clark to discuss firing Rosen, he tweeted “The BIG Protest Rally in Washington, D.C. will take place at 11:00 A.M. on January 6th. Locational details to follow. StopTheSteal!” On Jan. 4, Trump traveled to Georgia to hold a rally, nominally in support of the two Republican candidates in the U.S. Senate runoff election, but really to put pressure on Georgia legislators to overturn the election.

Practically every move Trump made in December and January in advance of Jan. 6 was a crime. Pressuring Jeffrey Rosen to misuse the Department of Justice to support his private lawsuits was a crime. Conspiring with Jeffrey Clark to fire Rosen so Clark could send the letter to the Georgia legislature was a crime. Calling Brad Raffensperger and Brian Kemp and pressuring them to “find” votes and use the legislature to overturn the election was a crime. Meeting with his own White House staff and outside advisers to plan the rally on the Ellipse at which he would incite the assault on the Capitol was a crime.

Trump’s problem, to put it frankly, was that he didn’t start committing crimes early enough. The crimes he committed in December and January were largely impulsive, not carefully planned or focused. He exploded with tweets and phone calls and meetings and rallies.

In short, Trump was Trump, as incompetent a criminal conspirator as he was a president. The only question left to be answered at this point is whether Merrick Garland and the Biden Department of Justice will have the courage to charge him and his co-conspirators with the felonies they committed: defrauding the United States by attempting to illegally influence the outcome of the 2020 election.

If that crime sounds familiar, that is because it is the same one special counsel Robert Mueller charged 24 Russian nationals with committing in 2016, when they illegally hacked into Democratic National Committee servers, stole campaign emails and set up fake accounts to influence voters on American social media platforms. With Donald Trump, nothing is ever new. Just watch him. He’s out there right now raising $100 million to do it all over again in 2024. And the entire Republican Party is right there with him.

[This is my special Wednesday Salon column. It is open to all subscribers.]

LucianTruscott Newsletter

#newsletter #political #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #Lucian Truscott #Lucian K Truscott IV #January 6 2021

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trophywifejimgordon · 4 years

Text

ok fuck the ten year time jump me and my homies HATE the ten year time jump and i swear after this post i’m never acknowledging it again. but. i have been sitting on this gobblepot sequence of events surrounding it,,,

:). so basically,

oz & ed commit some crime, or they’re framed for it. or ed does something on his own and tries to bring oswald down. or their pardon is just generally ignored/abused.

whatever happens, they get arrested.

jim sees this arrest and knows it’s not right, but gotham’s new management really wants them put away. he says it’s not right. they threaten him. he fights back. they threaten everything he stands for. well....

he gives in. just another thing to feel guilty about forever, right?

they’re both going to be put in arkham indefinitely.

jim campaigns against this. he doesn’t waste time on ed (can’t, if he wants to sustain credibility), but vouches for oswald’s sanity, citing the certificate of recovery from his first stint in arkham, his mayoral campaign, the illegality of his second arkham visit, and his custody of martin.

he does not get oswald a pardon. he does get him 12 years at blackgate.

10, with parole, if he’s good.

jim prays he’ll be good

he keeps the news of his mostly failed campaign under wraps as much as he can, because he doesn’t want oswald to feel obliged to him for something that didn’t even save him from prison, and in fact probably made things a lot worse. as a result, all oswald ever hears about it is, “jim gordon had you sentenced to blackgate.”

he’s furious. he vows to Kill Jim Gordon

oswald goes to blackgate.

jim tries to visit him exactly once. oswald is so furious that the guards have to physically restrain him. he does not visit again.

oswald has enough of a reputation (and is smart enough to have earned it) that he is not touched in prison. in fact, he makes somewhat of a name for himself, and, while he doesn’t enjoy his time there by any means, it IS better than arkham. he’s at least comfortable; he eats well, he arranges poker games, he makes skillful connections that will last him years, and he keeps information flowing to him on the inside.

he starts writing passive aggressive letters to jim with thinly veiled threats on his life inside them. they keep getting returned to him unopened, and eventually he stops sending them. he keeps writing, though. eventually, these evolve and become not the threats and barbed comments that they were meant to be, but more love letters to a jim gordon of a bygone year, an idealized jim gordon that oswald knows never existed. he keeps them in a neat stack beneath his cot.

oswald does not tell anyone about these letters.

jim looks into what happened to martin after oswald sent him away, and he gets the news that cobblepot lost custody entirely. apparently, he’s been jumping from foster home to foster home because he scares the people who want an undamaged kid and lashes out against the people who are just in it for a check from the state. all of them think they can get him to start talking. he draws disturbing pictures of them dying in creative ways. apparently, there’s talk of getting him sent to a correctional facility.

jim has him moved to a gotham-based orphanage, and visits him. initially, martin won’t acknowledge him at all. jim tries to explain that he didn’t want oz hurt, gets into their history a little, and after bribing him with books and things he hasn’t had since he was in oswald’s care, jim starts to win his trust.

he visits martin about once a week. what really wins him martin’s trust is that he gets it set up so the orphanage will allow him to visit oswald in prison regularly, on the condition that he doesn’t let oswald know who’s behind it. martin more or less behaves himself at the orphanage from then on.

those visits are the highlight of oswald’s week, and they keep him going more than anything else in those ten years. he starts learning sign language in his spare time.

on the other side of things, jim bumbles his way through learning it, too. they’re all accidentally a family without any actual interaction on oswald and jim’s side.

when barbara lee gets older, jim introduces her to martin. she asks why he doesn’t come live with them; jim tells martin it’s an option--he’s hesitant. jim understands, and doesn’t pressure him.

barbara lee is the highlight of jim’s life, and the only thing that really keeps him going. he’s worn out by the crime in gotham, by the way he’s been working for over 15 years and hasn’t made a single dent. he’s unfulfilled in his marriage, and watches barbara kean get better every day while he falls into familiar despair.

he starts taking risks. he starts going out into the field for the thrill of it, and leslie files for divorce.

in jail, oswald hears about jim getting hurt and worries, despite himself. he hates jim for making him care.

he writes more letters.

jim hears that bruce is returning, and feels that his time is finally done. he’s not actively suicidal, but he wants to die, and well... hm. everything is winding to a close. he turns in his resignation.

penguin is released from jail on parole. neither of them are surprised when oswald appears in the back seat of jim’s car. neither of them are surprised when they end up at the docks.

jim’s resigned to oswald shooting him. he decides that whatever happens, he’ll probably deserve it.

but oswald can’t shoot him.

he doesn’t want jim dead. he wants jim to understand how much he’s been hurting for the past decade. jim sees this, and he jumps in the river--not to save himself, really, but to spare oswald the tumult. and because oswald’s very personal rage suddenly puts the arkham breakout in a new light.

in all the chaos, he doesn’t report the incident.

martin is out of the orphanage now, going through college at gotham u, paid for by an anonymous source, perhaps tangentially connected to the wayne foundation. oswald comes to visit him, and during their reunion, martin lets something slip about jim.

troubled and frantic, oswald chases the thread. he ends up unraveling the whole thing, down to transcripts of jim fighting so hard for his acquittal.

he confronts jim again, in tears. asks him why he’d let oswald hate him for so long--why he’d let oswald kill him--over something like this. jim just tells him he figures he’d deserved it. he treated oswald like shit for so long, everything now is too little, too late.

oswald hates him for this explanation.

he loves jim gordon.

they kiss. probably marry. oswald gives jim the support he needs to continue on as commissioner, jim doesn’t feel like he’s compromising his principles quite so much when he looks the other way while oswald reestablishes his empire. oswald eventually gives jim the love letters, and jim admits he’s been thinking about the ones he sent back unopened for years; he knew how much oswald hated him at the time, and the masochistic part of him wanted to read the abuse, but he thought it would be better for oswald if he could just get it out of his system and forget about jim. martin is best big brother to barbara lee. everyone pretends that they don’t know that batgirl is kind of totally threatening to beat up her beloved stepfather.

the end :)

#gotham #text post #gobblepot #jim gordon #oswald cobblepot #barbara gordon #barbara lee gordon #martin #at one point i was going to actually write this fic but now i have a staunch policy where i hardly recognize any of s5 as canon #so how could i possibly dedicate any time to this #the Least Canon Episode of s5 #the thing about that pier scene is that it's like you'd really do it dot jpeg #bro you don't take someone down to the site of your big first Moment and relive your greatest hits while screaming about how #this begins AND ENDS with HIM AND YOU #because you want to kill them #you do it because you are gay #i'm rewatching gotham and i'm halfway thru s2 #and that makes talking about this Domestic Shit seem so far out of left field #but the impeccable thing about gobblepot is that it HAS the range darling

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inforapound · 4 years

Text

Ease The Dawn Pt.2 Ch.15

A/N - Sorry to those whose tag didn't work last chapter. Previous Chapter 14 here incase. This was a tricky chapter to write. Thanks for reading.

Pairing - Ivar and Aethelswith Words - 2,100

Warnings - Angst, human sacrifice, death, sorrow, mentions of rape.

"That girl," Brana clucked her tongue, "I am afraid that I am siding with Ivar on this."

Murmuring, Aethelswith's face flinched, her eyelids fluttering open, attempting but unable to focus. Reaching forward, Brana touched her thin arm, letting her know she was near.

"You must always take care of him," Aethelswith whispered, her voice raspy from lack of use.

"Ivar?"

She did not reply.

"I have seen nothing but improvement in you over the last few days. You, my friend, can care for him yourself."

The slightest shift of Aethelswith's features, a sliver of brightness told Brana that she was amused.

Leaning closer, Brana studied her gaunt face, her skin still a pale shade of yellow, "I will admit, only to you, that I questioned what you saw in him. I feared for you even." Straightening her back, she gazed down, her thumb rubbing circles on Aethelswith's tiny wrists. "What was it, in the end, that made you run through a field of swinging swords for him?"

Sighing, Aethelswith shifted her head, letting her eyelids close. "Different things..," she breathed. "I suppose I had felt too much of his heart to be able to return to my life." Flicking open her eyes, she stared up as if looking at the ceiling. "He had become a part of me."

"There is not a person in all of Kattegat who does not know the bond you two share."

"Hmm," she hummed quietly.

"Were you afraid to leave your family?"

"Yes," she replied clearly. "But not as afraid of never seeing him again." Laying still for a moment, she tried with difficulty to clear her throat. "Will you marry Loni?"

"At some point, yes," Brana smiled.

"You love each other very much too."

"We do," Brana nodded. "He is a good man. He eats anything I cook, brings wood in without asking, holds me at night. Easy on the eyes," she lifted her dark brows, laughing lightly. "It's a quiet love, not what you are used to. No impassioned fights followed by wild love-making and bleeding-heart ultimatums but..."

"So, it is a healthy union," Aethelswith whispered, her dry lips pulling back into a smile.

"Aethelswith, is that wit I detect? You are feeling better. It is so good to talk with you. Ivar rarely gives me the chance."

"Where is Ivar?" she looked in the direction of Brana's voice.

"In the hall, alone. Hopefully eating. He has barely left your side. He wants so badly to protect you."

"Hmm," she hummed again, "Before me, his mother was the only person he felt ever cared for him and he left her after she begged him not to. He returned to find that she had been shot in the back and he felt it was because he had not been there. He may not think of it when he is being demanding and unreasonable, but it has shaped his entire way of being. It is fear and under it all, he just loves me," her eyes closed again and she sighed, visibly tiring. "He may not move in a straight line but he always comes back to center...my Ivar," her voice drifted off.

"Aethelswith? Aethelswith?" Frowning, Brana swallowed back the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Staring down, she watched Aethelswith slip back into sleep, unable to shake the memory of her mother's words, describing the burst of clarity that often came to those in their final days. Picking up Aethelswith's slight hand, Brana kissed the back, "Please sweet one, wake up."

Eyelashes fluttering again, Aethelswith fought her way up from rest, her eyes straining to open.

"That's it. Let us try and get something into your tummy before all this conversation knocks you out."

----

Sitting on the floor, Ivar's unbound legs stretched out in front, his back and head rested against the side of the bed and in his hand, he held a stack of envelopes bundled with twine. Not bothering to dress, he sat in his sleeping clothes, the early morning air biting at his skin through the light linen. He needed to feel the chill, the cool air on his flesh, temper the burn he felt scorching his mind.

Daybreak was approaching and all was quiet; no steps could be heard in the corridor or commotion from the kitchen. No loud voices or wagons passing outside in the streets. Closing his eyes, he listened to her shallow, steady breathing as she lay behind him, tucked in under the covers. The hours had passed, and he had watched the darkness evaporate, slits of light beginning to illuminate the cracks in the closed shutters. Tomorrow would be the same and the day after that, the sun would rise, with one less pair of eyes as its witness.

So many lives he had taken and pain inflicted, so many families left behind broken. All in the name of victory and glory, and here he sat on the hard floor, on the last day of his life, resigned to his fate. Too small and too powerless to force death into retreat.

Shuddering, his stomach tightened, making him feel sick. Unable to find the words, he would stay there, on the cold ground, until he knew how to say goodbye to his beautiful Aethelswith. The agony of such a charge, at least, quelling any fear of his own end.

"Ivar?" her weak voice, rasped.

"I am here." Scrambling up, he pulled himself onto the bed, crawling to her side. "Right here, my sweet."

Shifting, he nestled in close, kissing her high on the temple. Sliding his hand under the cover, his fingers swept over her every pronounced rib. She did not turn to look at him, just stared up, blinking toward a ceiling still veiled in darkness from the illness.

Sighing at the feel of his embrace, she pressed her face against him, his nose rubbing along her cheek and breath loud in her ear. Inhaling as deeply as her lungs would allow, she breathed in again, silently praying that when God took her, he would allow her to keep the memory of his scent.

"Ivar?"

"Yes."

"There are things we need to say....while I am able."

Tensing, he lifted his head from the pillow, looking down at the sharp features of her face.

"Why do you say that?" he whispered.

"I feel like we must... prepare."

"You are talking about farewells."

"Yes..." she waited as if expecting him to object. "I have a journey to make."

Resting his head back to the pillow, he closed his eyes, attempting to hold back his tears. Even in death, he thought, his beloved, his princess and queen would be the one holding strong, helping him find his way. Reaching down, he took her small hand in his, the feel of it like parchment draped over bones.

"I have an admission to make," he said quietly. "I kept letters from you...from your brother, this entire time and I need you to know."

Tilting her face toward him, she said nothing, just listened.

"I had them translated every time one arrived. Five in total. I scrutinized every word, every detail, searching for any phrase that might convince you to return. I never did send a reply."

"What did Alfred say?"

"He expressed his grave concern for your safety and the soundness of your mind and decision. Suggested that I preyed on your vulnerability as my captive and your good nature, perhaps even placed you under some pagan spell."

"Sounds like Alfred," she whispered, her expression not changing.

"He questioned himself and if he had treated you as you deserved or ever properly acknowledged you as the remarkable person that you are. Spoke about mistakes he felt he had made, not putting his foot down with your mother. And...he was distressed by his decision to not send an army to bring you home. Worried it would haunt him until the end of his life. In every letter, he signed off by writing that he loved you, or missed you and that you always had a place at his side."

"I see," she said softly, laying still. "Thank you for telling me."

"I am sorry for keeping them from you; it was selfish and dishonest. I was so afraid you would leave."

"I know..." she exhaled, "I forgive you."

"You do?"

"Yes... After I am gone, please write to him...to Alfred. Tell him all the things you loved about me and what I meant to you. And please... tell him that in my final moments that I regretted nothing and I was always glad I followed you here. Please tell him that. It will ease his mind."

Knowing he could make no such promise, he said nothing, kissing the side of her cheek, hoping soon she would be well enough to make the voyage back to him.

Her eyes fell closed and her brows pinched together. "My love, your heart is racing. Here," she pressed closer to him, "hold me tighter, I will not break."

Hugging her carefully to him, he could feel the point of her hip bone, her stomach so flat, he imagined it rested on her spine. The condition of her body only pushed him, helped his resolve stay steady.

"You must find solace in your people," she continued quietly. "Do not lock yourself in this hall or sail away looking for blood. Share your pain with them, Ivar. They want to love you; I can feel it. You have been told all your life that your strength comes from your legs and your brutality, but that is wrong. Those people did not know you. Your strength comes from your heart. From your immense ability to feel. If you share that with your people, they will love you as I do. This, I promise."

The tears streaked down the sides of his eyes and he gasped trying not to sob. "You have taught me so much Aethelswith," he struggled, forcing out the words. "You, even more than my family taught me what it is to be Viking; to have courage, to be strong and that I was worthy of love. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me."

"Listen to me," she squeezed his hand. "Not once in my life did I think I could escape death and you need to know that I am not afraid. I will be brave, Ivar and only because you taught me how. And you, my love, are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me, and I pray that heaven feels as glorious as being with you."

"But I am afraid," he choked, his tears running and settling in the crease where their faces met, "afraid of being without you. You are the very heart that beats in my chest now and I am so grateful you kept us together. You gave me this life. You were all that ever mattered."

"Death will not part us. You told me that. We are forever altered because of each other. Stronger, wiser, softer and you now understand the vastness of your devotion. You will be left with all of that, and it will change everything."

"I cannot breathe without you."

"I know," she squeezed her eyes closed. "But I am tired and I need to go. You will keep me in your heart and that is where I will stay, inside of you. Breathing the air in your lungs, running in your thoughts. I will be there. You will see..."

"I am so sorry that you lived with my spite. It was all so meaningless. My selfishness and.... all the arguments. If I could go back..."

"Ivar, I always felt, always, that you simply wanted me close and that I was important. There is meaning in that."

"Gods," he looked up to the ceiling, shaking his head, "I cannot do this," he cried, his chest beginning to shake.

"You must Ivar and you will. You are the greatest man I have ever known and I would choose you all over again."

Pushing air out of his mouth, he fought to steady his voice, "I love you, Aethelswith, I love you."

"And I love you, Ivar. Forever."

Dawn broke as they lay still wrapped in each other's arms, casting reflections of light across the bed. His breathing began to settle, and as he held his beloved for the very last time, he knew by answering the call of the Gods, her strength was already returning.

"I need to sleep now...all this talking," she murmured. "Stay with me for a while and then go and get some fresh air. Yes?"

Lifting his head, he kissed the side of her forehead. "Of course, my sweet. I will stay until you fall asleep."

@youbloodymadgenius @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales @jaydelesley4 @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @littlecarolina94 @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @blonddnamedhandz @hecohansen31

#ease the dawn part 2 #ease the dawn #Ivar and Aethelswith #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #vikings fanfic #ivar love story #ivar slow burn #ivar ragnarson #ivar lothbrok #ivar and princess #ivar and oc #aethelswith

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hamanuelton · 4 years

Text

my favorite parts of hamilton:

- “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.”

- every time Leslie Odom Jr. as aaron burr begins another part with “how did a bastard, orphan-“ or like in that same way ‘cause he doesn’t always start it that way but you know what I mean

- the way Leslie Odom Jr. as My Boi Burr™️ says “well, the world got around, they said, ‘this kid is insane, man!’”

- also when Leslie Odom Jr. as A. Burr says

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAN?!”

- “our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain, a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain”

- “Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait...”

- background “just you wait, just you wait”’s as hammy’s putting on a new jacket and ensemble is praising nyc

- “and me? i’m the damn fool that shot him.”

- “Burr, sir” + the continuation of this all throughout

- “If you talk you’re gonna get shot” / FORESHADOWING WOOOEEEEWOOOOO

- “i’m John Laurens in the place to be”

- Lafayette’s fuckinf accent

- “BRRRAH! BRRAAAH! HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT”

- “if you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for”

- “‘Onarchy?”

- hey, yo, i’m just like my country, i’m young, scrappy, and hungry—

- the way Odom Leslie Jr. as The Hamburrglar™️ says ‘shot’ and they all take a shot

- this ⤵️

- Hammy getting //flustered// about friendship

- WHEN ARE THESE COLONIES GONNA RISE UP

- Angelica’s face when Burr is tryna tell her bout herself and she shows him up and ships him out

- Act 1: 6. Farmer Refuted

- honorable mention: “my dog speaks more eloquently than thee!" "but strangely, your mange is the same." "is he in jersey?”

- King George pouting

- Jonathan Groff’s overarticulation of each syllable as King George is a work of art

- “♪ Da-da-da-dat-da-dat-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪ Da-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪

- “Everybody! —“

- “We keep meeting.”

- “i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. when’s it gonna get me? in my sleep? seven feet ahead of me?”

- “See, I never thought I’d live past twenty.”

- “this is not a moment, it’s the movement”

- “I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow, for the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!”

- “dying is easy, young man, living is harder!”

- “i’m being honest. i’m working with a third of what our Congress promised.”

- “you need all the help you can get. i have some friends. Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette, okay, what else?” — “we’ll need some spies on the inside, some king’s men who might let some things slide.”

- “watch this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother be seated at the right hand of the father.”

- “Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him” — “That’s true.”

- “Yo, if your marry a sister, you’re rich, son!” — “Is it a question of ‘if’, Burr, or which one?” and then the little ‘hey’ ‘hey’ thing they do gets me every time

- literally the use of yo throughout the production fucking gets me every single fucking time

- “i’m writin’ a letter nightly. now my life gets better, every letter that you write me. — THE PURE UNBRIDLED SENSE OF FORESHADOWING IN “laughin’ at my sister, cuz she wants to form a harem” — ft. “i’m just sayin’, if you really loved me, you would share him!”

- the irony in “Eliza, i don’t have a dollar to my name”, you’ll be on the $10 bill, my man

- top-notch brain

- Angelica TRIED TO TAKE A BITE OF ME

- the way Anthony Ramos as John Laurens says “alright, alright. that’s what i’m talkin’ about!” and also the face that he makes

- hunger-pang frame

- “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.” — “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself.” — “You’re like me. I’m never satisfied.” — “Is that right?” — “I have never been satisfied.” — “My name is Angelica Schuyler.” — “Alexander Hamilton.” — “Where’s your fam’ly from?” — “Unimportant. There’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait, just you wait...”

- tbh the way ‘Schuyler’ is spelled is oddly satisfying to me

- honestly just the way LMM says Alexander Hamilton+/ my name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things i haven’t done, ‘just you wait, just you wait...’ throughout the production

- “i’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in new york city is insidious”

- “You are the worst, Burr.”

- Act 1: 12. The Story of Tonight (Reprise)

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes”

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes. and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died—“

- “Chick-a-plao!”

- the way they say ‘raise a glass’ is both elegant and (appropriately) reverent

- “i go back to new york and my apprenticeship” — i shouted MY BOI HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT DID NOT JUST SAY THAT, IF HE ACTUALLY LEFT AND ISN’T JUST UNDERCOVER OR SOME SHIT IMMA WRITE LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER

- the minute General Charles Les came into the picture i hated him so hard, even though his literal first word was ‘Whee!!!!’, though i can appreciate the sentiment and what LMM was tryna do there

- “Washington cannot be left to his devices indescisive, from crisis to crisis” — sweet baby jesus that alliteration, and jon rua totally pulled it off (i hate General Charles Lee not the person who played him, i can also appreciate the fact that as an actor it takes a lot of talent to be able to make you hate a character so easily, also shoutout to Jonathan Groff as King Georgey-Boy™️, Sydney James Harcourt as james reynolds, and the general way LMM somehow made me fed up/turn on Alexander with the whole scene with him and Maria Reynolds — and not only that but somehow redeemed himself to me which is easier said than done for characters and people alike.. i’ve been hurt too much to play like that.

- Act 1: 15. Ten Duel Commandments

- honorable mention: “if you don’t reach peace, that’s alright. time to get some pistols and a doctor on site. you pay him in advance, you treat him with civility. you have him turn around so he can have deniability.”

- Act 1: 17. That Would Be Enough

- honorable mention: the melody that LMM went with for that turn of phraseis a truly beautiful thing

- “Immigrants:” — “We get the job done.”

- THE FACT THAT MY MAIN MAN HERCULE MULLIGAN WAS ON THE INSIDE NOT ONLY DID I CALL IT BUT DAMN HE REALLY GOT THAT GOOD HOT TRIBUTE HE DESERVED

- “To my brother’s a revolutionary covenant! I’m runnin’ with the sons of liberty and I am lovin’ it! See, that’s what happens when you up against the ruffians. We’re in the shit now, somebody gotta shovel it! Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction, when you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!”

- Act 1: 21. What Comes Next

- honorable mention: “i’m so blue” — the little squat that Groffsauce does as the light turns blue really got to me

- Act 1: 22. Dear Theodosia

- Leslie Odom Jr.’s voice is so ding dang delightfully airy

- honorable mention: “You have my eyes. You have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart.”

- Act 1: 23. Non-Stop

- as someone with siblings i can appreciate that they’re bickering like that’s just what they are

- “I was chosen for the constitutional convention! *squeal*”

- “Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed for the notion of a nation we now get to build. For once in your life, take a stand with pride. I don’t understand how you stand to the side.”

- Act 2: 1. What’d I Miss?

- honorable mention: “But the sun comes up and the world still spins.”

- Act 2: 2. Cabinet Battle #1

- honorable mention: “DOIN’ WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS YOU DO IN MONTICELLO!”

- tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

- “Daddy, daddy, look.... My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it. And I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can’t write mine.” - “What!” - “I practice French and play piano with my mother.” — “Uh-huh!” — “I have a sister but I want a little brother.” — “Okay!” — “My daddy’s trying to start America’s bank. Un deux trois quatre cinq!” — “Bravo!” — “Hey, our kid is pretty great.”

- as much as i hate Act 2: 4. Say No To This (because for some reason i though Alexander Hamilton was better than that) Jasmine Cephas Jones sings in it is like a hot knife through butter — namely; “My husband’s doin’ me wrong beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me...”... I guess maybe I understand it ‘cause damn Jasmine Cephas Jones is so ding dang pretty and ding dang talented and wow what a remarkable person

- the way that Lin says “And her body’s saying, ‘hell, yes’ is um.. 😓

- “You see, that was my wife you decided to” — “Fuuuu—“

- Act 2: 5. The Room Where It Happens

- honorable mention: “Bros.”

- “Talk less. Smile more.” LMM being a dramatic bastard

- Act 2: 6. Schuyler Defeated

- Act 2: 7. Cabinet Battle #2

- “revolution is messy but now is the time to stand."

- honorable mention: “Ooh!!”

- “We signed a treaty with a King whose head is now in a basket. Would you like to take it out and ask it? ‘Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?’ ‘Uh... do whatever you want, I’m super dead.’”

- Thomas Jefferson all like “but sir do we not fight for freedom” MY BAD SIR YOU ARE A SLAVE-OWNER HOW ABOUT YOU NOT

- mentioning Lafayette because apparently LMM has no problem with breaking the fourth wall

- “Daddy’s calling.”

- “I’m in the cabinet. I am complicit in watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it. If Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents, this is the difference. This kid is out!”

- “Southern motherfuckin’ Democratic-Republicans!”

- “The emperor has no clothes.”

- “Sir, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is Jefferson started it.” — “Thomas Jefferson resigned this morning.” — “You’re kidding.” — “I need a favor.” — “Whatever you say, sir, Jefferson will pay for his behavior.” — “I’ll use the press. I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him—“ — “Yes! He resigned you can finally speak your mind!” — “Ha. Good luck defeating you, sir.” - “I’m sorry, what?”

- Act 2: 10. I Know Him

- “—Vice President.” — “— No more Mr. Nice President.”

- “Sit down, John, you fat motherf—“

- Act 2: 12. We Know

- honorable mention: “You see that was my wife you decided to—“ — “WHAT—“

- Act 2: 13. Hurricane

- Act 2: 14. The Reynolds Pamphlet

- honorable mention: *DEEP VOICE* “DAMN”

- Act 2: 15. Burn

- i’ll be the first to say i wasn’t a huge fan of Eliza at first aside from Phillipa Soo’s killer voice

- this gave me a lot of respect for her

- honorable mention: “You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.”

- Act 2: 16. Blow Us All Away

- i would like to point out that tweet where someone @‘s LMM about not mentioning Philip’s hot and he responds “I’M FAIRLY F**CKING SURE I DID”, y’know ⤵️

- “The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops.”

- “God, you’re a fox.”

- Act 2: 17. Stay Alive (Reprise)

- The ‘I know, I know. Shh.’ and the full circle back to his mom teaching him french on the piano really got to me for the beautiful artistry in it but also damn them feels

- Act 2: 18. It’s Quiet Uptown

- “I spend hours in the garden. I walk alone to the store and it’s quiet uptown. I never liked the quiet before. I take the children to church on Sunday, a sign of the cross at the door, and I pray. That never used to happen before.”

- “Philip, you would like it uptown. It’s quiet uptown.”

- “You knock me out, I fall apart.”

- “Eliza, do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can and push away the unimaginable. The moments when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand. We push away the unimaginable.”

- “Can you imagine?”

- Act 2: 19. The Election of 1800

- honorable mention: “And they say I’m a Francophile: at least they know I know where France is!”

- “You used to work on the same staff” — “Whaaaat.”

- “Honestly, it’s kind of draining.” — “Burr...” — “Sir!” — “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” — “No. I’m chasing what I want. And you know what?” — “What?” — “I learned that from you.” / this moment made the blow that he voted for Jefferson like a damn hole in my chest and i actually really felt for Burr. i get Hammy’s reluctance, i think if anything he was hoping voting for Jefferson would give Burr the chance to have experience as VP and then the next election he might vote for him then depending

- Act 2: 20. Your Obedient Servant

- A. Burr

- A. Ham

- “I just need to write something down.” / really resonated as one of the last things they showed him doing before going off to the duel, his life really was writing and that was the perfect way to say that in a very subtle sort of way. i really appreciate it artistically, whether it was intentionally so or not.

- Act 2: 22. The World Was Wide Enough

- okay but first of all i would like to comment on the fact that Ariana DeBose PLAYS THE GODDAMN BULLET, I JUST

- THE FACT THAT THE BULLET HAS A PART

- “This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” / this made me really sympathize with Burr, as well as when he tries to go towards Hamilton (at least in the play but I sincerely hope that was historically accurate) / but also that fact that Theodosia Burr was lost at sea at 29 makes me sad because Hamilton’s life was taken to give her one and then she just up and disappears in a freak accident

- Act 2: 23. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

- the orphanage got to me

- i loved that he (LMM) didn’t end it with himself or anything

- he let Phillipa Soo tear my heart out

- it killed me but i died quite happily

- and really what more could you ask for.

#okay so #i know thw subheaders are probably grossly uneven #but like #i had to space manually #and this already took a lot of time to do #so i couldn’t give two fucks #lin manuel miranda #hamilton #hamilton film #daveed diggs #jonathan groff #anthony ramos #christopher jackson #jasmine cephas jones #leslie odom jr #leslie odom junior #ariana debose #jon rua #hamilfilm #shit i lost steam to tag cast members #you know and if you don’t look it up so you do #that’s how you learn shit like that the bullet had its own fucking role #the orphanage part also hurt because i was disowned by my father and then disowned by my mother (again) and then my father just decided he #wanted back in on my life #my shit family life has cast me out of my family #i feel like an orphan except i can’t be adopted #even though i want more than anything to have parents or parental figures #sadly my dad just isn’t #he kind of ruined that for me when he screamed me into a panic attack that almost killed me and then left the front door open to tell me to #get out

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

Text

Confirmation

When a strange mark shows up on Aziraphale's palm, the angel takes it as a great gift from an even greater source. But Crowley may not see it the same way ...

When Aziraphale first sees it, he thinks it’s a smudge.

He’s been filing taxes, filling out paperwork, and inventorying books all day. Those are all tasks he can miracle, of course, but he doesn’t need to draw attention to himself over frivolous things. Besides, there’s something relaxing, and oddly satisfying, about tackling the minutiae of daily life by hand the way mortals do – no magic involved.

It catches his eye once, maybe twice, but he thinks nothing of it, wiping his hands with a handkerchief and going back about his business, periodically glancing at the clock to read the time.

Nearly five in the afternoon.

His demon should be by soon.

Giddy as a newlywed, he scampers to get ready for Crowley’s arrival.

He shelves the rest of the books, tidies up the papers, and with a flourish of his hand, freshens himself up. He steals a second to examines his hands, checking to see how much damage stacking his latest acquisitions have done to his nails, when it finally hits him that the mark on his hand – dark black with a strange gold shimmer, dead center of his right palm – isn’t just a smudge.

It’s a name.

Anthony J Crowley.

And Aziraphale hasn’t a clue how it got there.

At first he thinks it must be a trick by the demon himself – some new dramatic way of announcing his arrival, which should be (Aziraphale checks the clock again) within the next twenty minutes. Aziraphale puts his left hand over it, assessing it for traces of demonic power, but there isn’t any - no Evil energy within it whatsoever.

What Aziraphale feels in the letters imprinted on his skin is love.

Only love.

And suddenly, Aziraphale realizes he knows this.

Isaiah 49:15 – 16 I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.

Love has been used to write Crowley’s name upon his hand.

Not his angel name. Not his demon name.

But the name Crowley chose.

Aziraphale’s heart swells. He takes it as a sign. No matter what has happened before or since, what Aziraphale and Crowley have together is not a mistake. It’s not sacrilege.

It’s not wrong.

And though he doesn’t claim to know God’s plan, maybe, just maybe, their union such as it is, has been acknowledged by God.

The sense of relief that fills Aziraphale creates a blinding light around him of pure joy.

His first instinct is to ambush Crowley the second he walks in and show him, but this name on his hand has more implications than just the love he and Crowley share. It means that God has not forgotten him, and that might not be of any comfort to Crowley.

Crowley doesn’t want to be a demon. There are aspects of it that appeal to him, namely in the power and immortality departments. But he doesn’t want to be an angel, either. If he could find a middle ground where both sides left him alone indefinitely, he’d choose that.

But this - this could mean something huge in the future that he may not appreciate. If nothing else, it takes his entire past, the honor he once held and the pain of being cast out, and shoves it in his face. Being around Aziraphale probably already reminds him of everything he’s lost.

This might end up like lemon juice in an open wound, one that refuses to heal.

Crowley doesn’t need God’s acceptance. He’s said as much a hundred times. But not until now did it dawn on Aziraphale that he may not want it, even if it’s offered to him freely.

Aziraphale doesn’t want to lose Crowley because of this. He can’t lose him now. Not after 6000 years!

He has two choices – none of them ideal: lose Crowley or dishonor God.

He chooses the latter. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before (according to Gabriel). Why should today be any different?

So Aziraphale hides the name.

He starts with simple logic and scrubs his hands with the strongest soap he has, but that doesn’t help at all. It actually makes things worse. With his hands so clean they’re nearly white, the black mark on his palm becomes a beacon, so crystal clear he can read it in the reflection of his shop window from ten feet away!

He lengthens his shirt sleeves so that the cuffs fall over his hands, but no matter how many times he miracles them, they seem to ride up just enough to uncover his palms.

He starts wearing gloves - leather ones he’s owned since the early 19th century. They’re conspicuous as heck, and earn him some weird looks from customers and Crowley alike, but they do they trick … for about a week. By the following Friday, the palm has worn through, but only on the one hand.

The hand with the name written on it.

The name prevails, and he begins to realize, it wants to be seen.

So he resigns himself to telling Crowley, explain how this happened and what it could mean. He wants to have it planned out, do it right, reassure him in every way possible.

But for the name on his palm, he’s taking too long.

It wants to be known, and it goes about it violently.

And with Crowley’s help.

But to be fair to the powers above, Aziraphale asks for it.

“Crowley, dear, can you help me open these boxes?” Aziraphale groans when his gloved fingers fumble the box cutter for the fifth time. “I can’t seem to … urgh … get a proper grip on this blasted thing!”

“Why don’t you miracle them open?” Crowley asks, busy reorganizing Aziraphale’s books to his own liking. “Or take off those stupid gloves you’ve been wearing non-stop? You know, for someone who pampers their hands as much as you do, those musty old things can’t be good for your skin.”

“I have … ngh … my reasons.” Aziraphale sighs. “Please? Then after this, we can take a break. Go to lunch. My treat.”

“Fine. But I’m picking the restaurant,” Crowley says, popping the box cutter off the ground with the toe of his shoe and catching it without even looking. “Someplace with a no glove policy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Aziraphale bends at the waist to hold the bulging, uneven box steady for Crowley to make a clean cut without slicing through the contents inside. “I don’t think such a place exists.”

“I could always miracle them off you,” Crowley says sternly. “I don’t like that you’re keeping things from me.”

“I’m not keeping anything from you,” Aziraphale lies … badly. And he knows it. “Besides, you wouldn’t do that because you’re not that cruel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Crowley mumbles, sticking the tip of the box cutter into the five inches of sloppily applied tape. “On the count of three, all right?”

“All right.”

“One … two …”

But Crowley doesn’t make it to three. The blade flies through the tape, slicing through as if of its own free will, straight to the other side … and through the palm of Aziraphale’s gloved hand.

“Shit shit shit!” Crowley drops the box cutter and reaches for Aziraphale’s wrist, but Aziraphale pulls it away.

“It’s okay,” he says, sucking in a breath. “It’s only a scratch.”

“Scratch my ass! I’m sorry for this, but …” Crowley snaps his fingers and the gloves disappear.

Aziraphale gasps. “Crowley!”

“Don’t Crowley me! You’ve been acting downright bizarre this past week, so excuse me for wanting to get to the bottom of what’s going on with you! I happen to care about you, you idiot!”

“I appreciate that,” Aziraphale says, dodging and weaving through the crowded space to avoid Crowley’s eyes. “I really do! But I have this handled. I promise!”

“It’s not about you having it handled, it’s about you keeping secrets! Secrets I suspect may be dangerous if you’re this eager not to tell me!”

Aziraphale searches his shop, trying to find a way to clean up the mess, seal the wound, and hide it from view in one fell swoop without Crowley seeing. When he comes up with a plan, it’s a second too late. Crowley predicted Aziraphale’s next move, guarding the door to the lavatory before Aziraphale even thinks to go there. Aziraphale spots a possible solution – another set of gloves lying on his desk. It’ll cost him a valuable second to yank them on, but after he does, he may be able to bless them so that Crowley can’t miracle them away, not using demonic magic.

It’s a little underhanded, but so was miracling away his gloves in the first place.

Desperate to be done with this, Aziraphale swipes his uninjured hand over the wound to clear away the blood, but when he reaches for the gloves, his hand turns and the name shines, even with his fingers curled over it. No miracle can cloak it, and he’s not fast enough to hide it. Crowley launches at him, reaching him in three strides of his long legs. He grabs Aziraphale’s wrist before Aziraphale can squirrel it out of sight, and just like that, the name gets its wish.

Crowley sees it.

Crowley knows.

“What … what is this?” he asks, raising the angel’s hand to his eyes and examining the mark from all angles. He runs his thumb over it, checking to see if it’s a human made tattoo or something more, thoroughly baffled by its presence.

“I … I didn’t do this,” Aziraphale says, not knowing before he does how insulting it will sound falling from his trembling lips. “I mean … it just showed up one day, and I …”

“This is what you’ve been hiding?” Crowley shakes his head, his voice sullen, laced with disappointment. “Why didn’t you show me this sooner?”

“I wanted to but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to hurt you. Or make you angry. But it’s a good thing, Crowley! It’s a really good thing … I assume.”

Crowley raises a fiery brow at him. “You don’t know?”

“I know scripture. I can guess what it means, but I’m not entirely sure I’m right.”

“So, how do you know it’s good?”

“Because I feel it in my heart,” Aziraphale says, his words rising up to reach Crowley’s ears with his eyes following, watching his skeptical demon soften. “And my heart hasn’t led me astray yet. This mark – it’s full of love, nothing else. Just love.”

Crowley runs his fingers over it to see if it will shift, or perhaps burn him. “I don’t want to assume, either,” he says, covering the mark with his hand, holding it gently against his palm, trying to feel it against his skin, “but I think it means I can do this …” His free hand he puts to Aziraphale’s cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone. Aziraphale watches Crowley move towards him with curiosity and awe, relishing the change in his expression, how his face seems to go from stark angles to subtle planes as he gets closer.

When their lips touch, that light of joy that’s been simmering beneath Aziraphale’s skin with the arrival of that name shines so brightly, Crowley has to shut his eyes. He breathes in deep, breathes Aziraphale in as he pulls him closer. Heat surrounds them, starting at the point where there palms touch, joining at the place where their lips meet, weaving in and out of them, then in to one another, like a fine golden thread sewing them together. It flows up every one of Aziraphale’s limbs and settles in his heart, filling him with a sensation of peace and happiness so sweet it’s almost too overwhelming to bear. He hears Crowley gasp, hears him hold his breath, then feels him jerk away, as if something just occurred to him that he needs to share before he forgets.

But when Aziraphale looks at him again, he’s stunned speechless, his usual mask of cynicism transformed to something a little more … dare he say … angelic.

“Are you okay?”

“I …” Crowley swallows “… yes?”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” Crowley flexes the hand pressed against his angel’s palm. He turns it over, expectantly, splaying his fingers wide for Aziraphale to see. A mark blossoms there, too, the script flowing before their eyes as if written by an invisible pen, the ink white and silver instead of black and gold. And it reads:

Aziraphale

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #frankie writes

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ilovemyschool · 4 years

Text

Teaching through COVID???

Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.

I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry. I absolutely love teaching and I love my students. I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff. Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you. I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students. I also try to support them through the hard stuff. I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat. I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.” It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids. If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical. When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too. When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.

I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year. My students are set to come back in two weeks. There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out. To quit or not to quit. That is my question.

To Quit:

*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”

*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor. I have an autoimmune condition. It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.

*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option. The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours. Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class. If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two. It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.

*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us? I guess they’ll figure that out?

*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days. If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank. They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.

*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask. That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”

*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually). Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online. There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.

*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes. That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there. It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.

*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above. If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.

*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures. My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.” This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others. They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway. I’m not so sure I agree with that. I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented. I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that? Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”

*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines. The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges. Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education. I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.

*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school. We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week. To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane. My anxiety is in full gear.

*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.

Not to Quit:

*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year. I don’t want to miss it.

*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year. I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program. We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.

*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids. I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.

*I LOVE my classroom and my lab. I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out. I decorated it really nice and made it super functional. I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again. All my desks match, too!

*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush. I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house. If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year. There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either. With budget cuts, who knows?

*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job. Those are rare and hard to come by.

*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask. That’s helpful. All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.

*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.

*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed. If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.

*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised. I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.

*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife. I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me. I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on. I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED. I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.

In conclusion...

I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.” Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily. This scares me. I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year. There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school. I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken. I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over. I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.

Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer. I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings. We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity. I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them. Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking. I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school. Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.

If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year. We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.

#teacher #school #back to school #covid #covid19 #covid-19 #tough decisions

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orionsangel86 · 5 years

Note

Do you still believe that Destiel will be canon? I've seen so much negativity about it lately and it's making me lose hope.

I got the above ask about a little while ago and I’ve hesitated to answer it for several reasons.

Then yesterday, the boys announced the final season of the show next year, and last night I got this ask:

I’ve blocked this asshole obviously, but this nasty ask full of lies and hate has motivated me to answer the first.

First of all, let me be very VERY clear here:

No one has ever said Destiel is TOTALLY happening. Please get that right out of your heads. The only people claiming this bullshit are the ones who always attack meta writers and its the same old crap every time. Claiming we “gaslight” fans is a new one though. That word has really become in vogue lately hasn’t it?

No one is gaslighting anyone. I don’t get why people don’t understand this. All we do in this little meta community is talk among ourselves in the same way people have been talking about literature and media for centuries. It’s up to the reader to make their own assumptions. Our meta is not infallible. Every fan is responsible for their own expectations. Do not blame meta writers if you can’t manage yours. No one is claiming that they speak the ultimate FACTS. We only ever voice our opinions and interpretations because it is our passion to discuss and analyse and speculate. For anyone to hate on us for that just fills me with pity for those people tbh. I think you have to be a pretty pathetic person to send another person anonymous messages like the one above.

I won’t address the other bullshit in that crappy ask. It’s all just garbage spewed by a hater for the pure purpose to be hateful and try to get a rise out of me. But it has got me thinking about my current opinion of Destiel. Which is why I have finally decided to answer this ask.

Do I think it will be made textual? Right now I will admit that I am cautiously optimistic. The current narrative and direction of the story definitely has the potential for Destiel to be realised. Though I admit this opinion rests almost solely on knowing that Castiel’s deal with the Empty Entity will be a focus for season 15. If Cas never made that deal, I am not sure I would have the same faith. Having said that, there is still so much unspoken between Dean and Cas, and since this is now the endgame, I would like to think that the writers may choose to finally tie up some of these loose plot threads that have been gathering since season 8.

I live in the camp that believes that the creative team have intentionally been weaving Destiel into the narrative of the show for years with the hope that they can get a green light from the execs to bring it textual at some point. Destiel has got far too close to the surface level line for anyone to dare claim Destiel shippers are “delusional” now, even the antis stopped saying that in season 12 and instead cried “pandering” of the writing team. I still maintain my view that they crossed a line in Season 12 and in what I like to call the “season 12/13 escalation” which pushed Destiel to one of the main story plot lines and really drummed home just how much Dean and Cas mean to each other. They can’t ever now claim the fans imagined it after that. Too many people saw the escalation as romantic for them to do that.

So my honest opinion is that they must follow through on their intentions. Its the only way the show will rid itself of that horrible accusation of queerbaiting. Technically it is completely unfair to accuse any story of queerbaiting whilst that story is still being told. Only once the story concludes should we be assessing it and deciding whether to paint it with that brush.

Yet SPN is a strange beast in that there are several factors to consider even then. I have faith and a lot of respect for the writing team, several of whom are LGBTQ+ people themselves. I just don’t believe that Dabb, Yokey, or Bobo would let us down here. They certainly aren’t intentionally queerbaiting us. I believe they are trying to tell this story whilst fighting tooth and nail behind the scenes with the CW suits to get Destiel approved. I also believe that now we have a solid end date in sight they will fight even harder for it, with the argument that they have nothing to lose by bringing Destiel to text and everything to gain (save for maybe the show being blacklisted in a couple of homophobic countries). Not bringing Destiel to text would actually be a far worse business decision at this point. Hopefully the suits are smart enough to agree to this - they should be, especially if they don’t want to appear completely hypocritical in light of their recent Dare to Defy campaign.

So if it doesn’t happen I certainly WILL be angry, upset, and furious, and I will drag the CW through the mud all over social media and personally write scathing letters to all media and entertainment outlets I can get hold of to bring attention to how hypocritical they are - but what I won’t be doing is accusing Dabb & Co of queerbaiting, because I just don’t think that is what they are doing.

I consider it more like a Wayward Sisters situation. The writing team want it as much as we do, but the real decision lies with the suits. They’ll be the ones to blame.

There is of course still the chance that we could get an ambiguous ending - one that is easily interpreted as Destiel but not obvious enough for the most stringent of homophobes to pick up on. I have very mixed feelings about this, but if I’m being realistic, this is probably the likeliest option. This show has always tried to cater to its entire audience, even though it knows that it’s audience has drastically different views on how it should end. An ending that attempts to cater to all, even if the story suffers for it, is still a very large possibility. As much as I like to believe that Dabb doesn’t give a shit about people bitching on Twitter, we have to be realistic and admit that Dabb doesn’t have all the power behind the scenes. Bob Singer and Mark Pedowitz are likely big influencers in how the story will end, and I can’t say I have much faith in either of them to actually “go where the story takes them”.

Hearing this final season announcement, I have a suspicion that the boys and the writing team already knew since at least when episode 300 was being scripted - simply because several things said in the show recently are now looking rather suspicious. John’s speech in episode 300 and Cas’s speech in 14x14 are both beautifully heartfelt statements about loss and enjoying the time we have with those we love. It all suddenly hits very close to home.

So if we go by this theory, then I expect the next few episodes to be very interesting in terms of what they may reveal for the road to endgame - as this is very much the road we are now on, wherever it may lead. Misha calling the finale “epic” is something else I am heavily side eyeing. If Destiel does get a green light, then I expect we will start to see the signs of this - if not in the coming episodes, then in early season 15. We should see another escalation similar to what we saw in s12/13. Keep an eye out for these potential signs, and if they don’t appear, then we need to prepare ourselves for the worst, and resign ourselves to the fact that the suits probably got scared.

But remember, this is all just my opinion. Take authority over your own expectations, as it is impossible for me to make promises over things I do not know. Whether you have hope or not, you have to deal with it however you choose. Just... don’t be like that anon. Never be like that.

#Destiel #supernatural #supernatural endgame #spn speculation #endgame destiel #destiel dreaming #season 15 #season 14 #my opinions #my thoughts #asks #anon #Anonymous

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