#fucking register. early voting is already happening

[everlastingrandom]

*the hellish clown show that will be the US midterm elections looms ever closer in the background*

#like yes haha truss got beat by a lettuce but GUYS (gender neutral) #my fellow americans #we have less than 3 weeks before shit goes sideways #fucking register. early voting is already happening #*shakes you*

[blogthebooklover]

30 Things I Learned As An Adult

In honor of me turning 30 in January, I’ve decided to write out a list of 30 things I learned as an adult.  Now, some of these worked for me through trial and error, while others did not.

1. Self Care Is Important

I cannot stress this enough.  We all need to practice self care, to take time for ourselves.  It takes baby steps to find a good self-care routine, and there’s plenty of online resources to find one to your tastes.  Remember it is all about trial and error, and don’t worry about perfecting it right away.  Research some different self care routines online as a starting point.

2. Read Books, Not Fanfiction

Okay, don’t get me wrong, I do love reading some good ole fanfiction, and current events.  However, definitely pick up a book once in a while.  Whether it’s a graphic novel, comics, manga, please develop a reading habit.  It definitely helped me out a lot as a former college dropout, there are reading lists on sites like Goodreads, here on Tumblr, even colleges have lists what books students are required to read.  And it does help with expanding your knowledge and vocabulary.  As I’ve previously said, I’m a former college dropout who’s currently back in school, however, developing a healthy reading habit is what kept me grounded.  If you need a starting point, I recommend reading a fiction book, preferably in the SciFi/Fantasy genre; or reread a book from your childhood.  Also, PLEASE GET A LIBRARY CARD!  You’ll definitely be saving a lot of money, and we need to support our public libraries now more than ever.

3. Say “No” More Often

If you don’t feel comfortable going out, or if your manager calls and asks to cover a shift, just say “no.”  Remember, you have the power to set boundaries, especially with family, friends, and work.  This correlates to number 1 on my list, self care is super important, and you cannot put your health at risk for anyone.  I’m going to repeat that last part: SELF CARE IS SUPER IMPORTANT, AND YOU CANNOT PUT YOUR HEALTH AT RISK FOR ANYONE!

4. Register To Vote, And Vote In Every Election

With politics being so polarized and divisive in the past decade, and the upcoming 2024 US Presidential Election, please register to vote.  And voter suppression has been very rampant in the past two, arguably three, decades.  To anyone about to turn 18 here in the US, please register to vote ASAP!  And vote in every goddamn election, both national and local.  I seriously cannot stress this enough.

5. Eat Healthy, No Seriously

I love some fast food once in a while now, however, please take some time to learn about healthy eating.  It will catch up with you in the future, and our US healthcare system is already fucked as all hell.  I know the rising costs of everything, including food, is insane right now; but please keep informed about how to prepare good healthy food.

6. Take Breaks From Current Events, Social Media, and the Internet

This also correlates with number one.  While it is very important to stay informed with what is happening in the world/country of origin; especially with the US Presidential Election year.  Remember, it’s okay to take breaks from reading too much news, and scrolling through social media feeds.  It really does have an effect on your mental health, and unfortunately too many people tend to fall down the conspiracy theory rabbit hole on all sides of the political spectrum.  To the teenagers and young adults, take breaks and focus on your mental health and well-being.  To the adults, read the previous sentence.  With everything so polarizing, take care of yourself first.  

7. High School Friends DO NOT LAST!

My friends from high school and early college years were definitely the “ride and die” type of  friends, metaphorically speaking.  If you have that one friend who was/is the “give the shirt off their back” type, check in on them once in a while.  However, with the former, just move on.  The friends I had in high school definitely had a lot of childhood trauma, and in one aspect, I’m glad that they were honest about it; it was/is a way to heal.  However, any “friend” who just doesn’t want to better themselves and use you for any convenience, DUMP THEM AND CUT OFF ALL CONTACT!  Remember just as you set boundaries with your toxic family members, and even for your job, you should do the same with friends.

8. Change Jobs, ASAP!

This is a very important one.  I didn’t really have a job as a teenager, I wanted to enjoy being a kid for a little longer, however, I did have an occasional babysitting job.  At 23 years old, I got a job at a fast food place.  While I do appreciate part of the experience, like how to use the “customer service” voice, however, any red flags that pop up in your head, change jobs, ASAP!  It was toxic, too political (for some weird reason) and a lot of drama (and not from the teenagers).  The grocery store I work at now does have its busy times, however, it’s much more calmer, and I don’t see too many “Karen” types. 

9. Declutter More Often

This is also a definite must as you get older.  Whatever you don’t need anymore, donate them.  Whatever is completely broken, throw it away!  Whatever it is that is in good condition, sell it or maybe give it to someone as a birthday/holiday present.  Any old makeup, throw it away!  It’ll help reduce the amount of clutter and mess.  If you need a starting point, I suggest the KonMari method.  It really did help me out a lot.

10.  Use A Planner

This is a life-and-time saver.  Write down any appointments, cleaning days, paydays, bill charges, etc.; into a physical planner.  If you’re in college, please use one!  And write down any assignments to work on/turn in BEFORE the deadline.  Also, anything important, put into your calendar app on your phone and laptop as a reminder.

11.  Have A Skin Care Routine

Okay, I know having a skin care routine isn’t for everyone, and we all have different reactions to skin care products; however, don’t be afraid to experiment with a good skin care routine.  In my early teen years, I used Proactiv skin care for my acne, and it helped out a lot.  Remember: cleanse, tone, any serum of your choice, and moisturize.  This also helps out if you don’t feel like jumping into the shower.  Also, use sunscreen, seriously.

12.  Don’t Get Married, Until You’re Ready

This is coming from someone who is single, lol.  If you plan on getting married to your romantic partner, I’m proud of you! Marriage is about communication, being honest, and doing equal amount of work (finances, household chores, etc.)  Save money if you’re planning for a wedding, or go to your local courthouse to get a marriage license if you don’t want the big, fancy reception.  

13.  Don’t Have Kids, Until You’re Ready

Again, this is coming from someone who is single and childless, lol.  Having kids is a lot of work: physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially.  Not everyone is capable of being a parent, and I have read PLENTY of posts on here and other websites about toxic parents/parenting styles.  Take time and think about if you’re ready to become a parent.

14.  Learn How To Budget Your Money

This is for anyone of any age out there.  Please learn how to budget your spending.  Look for stuff on sale or clearance, or cut back on certain types of spending. I know most people have no idea where to start, but there is! There’s some great websites and YouTube channels on how to budget your money. Another great tool to use are spreadsheets like Microsoft Excel or Google Sheets. I use a Google Sheet template to help track my spending and budget my finances. Also, if you have gift cards from your birthday/holidays/etc; definitely use them, you won't be breaking your bank account :). Also, definitely have some paper cash in your wallet for emergency use.     

15.  Open A Savings/Emergency Funds Account, ASAP!

This is a huge one to have as an adult, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic.  Anything left over from paying the bills, from a side hustle, or from your tax returns, put that into savings.  Certain banks will also have the option of creating “financial goals” in savings accounts; so I highly recommend using that as well.  This also correlates with number 14.  If you’re interested, open two or three savings accounts, the last one should only be for emergency funds.

16.  Get A Physical Hobby, AKA Exercise!

It doesn’t matter what type of exercise you do, please do it!  And for anyone who is physically disabled, there are modified options provided on YouTube.  We do lose certain motor functions as we age, so definitely pick an exercise that’s right for you, as they say. Even if it's just going outside for a walk for 30 minutes, please do some type of exercise.   

17.  Learn How To Meal Prep

It doesn’t have to be for every meal of every day, pick a meal you want to make and prepare ahead of time.  And prepare that meal the day before, so it will be on hand when you leave your house. There are some great videos on YouTube, and some ideas from Pinterest if you need a starting point.

18.  If You’re Able To, Go To The Dentist!

Seriously though, try and go for a checkup/teeth cleaning.  You’re only given one set of teeth after all your baby teeth fall out, and you need to take good care of them.  If you’re able to, or live near to one, local colleges have free cleanings through their dental training programs.   

19.  If Your Job Offers a 401K, GET ON IT NOW!

My old job at a fast food restaurant didn’t have retirement benefits, but my current grocery store job does.  I jumped on it right away, even if it’s not the job I want right now.  And it’s a good starting point to have some money saved up for retirement. If you leave the job that has a 401k, you can do what's called a rollover. This will put the money that was set into the first retirement fund into another one; you can do this with your bank or if your new job has a 401k.

20.  If You Don’t Have Health Insurance, Sign Up With The State, or Through Your Job.

In my experience, I have insurance through the state at the moment.  If your job offers health insurance as well, jump on it right away, even if it’s not the job you want, it’ll be a starting point that correlates with number 19.

21.  It’s Okay To Not Go To College

This is coming from someone who was a college dropout at 19, and currently back in school.  If you don’t feel ready to go to college, that’s okay too.  College is very expensive, especially here in the US, and not everyone can get a scholarship, even if they did apply for a lot of them.  Maybe get a part-time job or two (for some income), explore some hobbies you enjoy, and take some time to think about some goals.     

22. If You’re In College, It’s Okay To Stay At Home

Again, coming from a former college dropout, I stayed at home while attending a nearby community college in another state.  However, out-of-state tuition and housing is also very expensive.  If you have a good relationship with your parents, and if you’re going to school in-state, talk to them about staying home while going to school.  If you don’t, then talk to a trusted friend or family member about getting an apartment together that isn’t on-site housing while you’re attending school.

23. Watch Non-English Language Movies

If you’re a movie lover like me, take some time to watch some foreign language films once in a while; and I know we anime fans do, lol.  To be honest, it does get very boring watching English language films all the time, whether from the States, England, or Canada.  Watching foreign language movies will definitely help you to understand the world a lot better, if you don’t have the means for traveling yet; and they will help you to understand that no matter where we live, we all have similar issues, hopes, dreams, etc.  If you need a starting point, I recommend any of the Studio Ghibli movies, I would start with Kiki’s Delivery Service; or Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth.  

24. SET BOUNDARIES

Remember: toxic family members and friends are not worth it.  You are worthy and valid for love and respect.  This correlates to number 7.  This is also very useful in the workplace.  

25. Express Yourself Through Fashion

Like everyone else, I feel most comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt myself; however sometimes I like to dress up just for fun, or to build up my self esteem and image.  This also helps when learning to pair an accessory with an outfit.  Play around with different color palettes and clothing styles, and find the one you feel the most “you.”  For example, I’ve always looked my best in jewel tones and a cooler color palette.  Read some fashion articles or watch some YouTube videos about how to pick out an outfit.

26. It Is Not Selfish To Prioritize Yourself

This correlates with number 3.  I have noticed it’s mostly a Western/American/Christian culture norm, we’re always told to take care of others before taking care of ourselves; or we’re selfish for prioritizing ourselves over others. It is not selfish, it is part of self care. Again, this is tied in with number 24.

27.   Failing and Making Mistakes Is Part of Growing

There is so much societal pressure on trying to be successful in life and work, especially in the Western/American hemisphere. However, making mistakes and failing at something is part of growing, and learning as an individual.

28. It's Okay to Not Have a Label to Define Yourself

Hear me out. I understand the use of labels in society and culture in general; everyone wants to belong somewhere and feel accepted. However, it is okay to not have a label to define who you are, and who you want/choose to be. Take all the time you need to figure out what's best for you. And sometimes people don't realize a label will fit them until they are much older in life. Or they couldn't at the time.

29. Don't Compare, You'll Get There

We are human, and we all have the tendency to compare ourselves to others. Unfortunately, this doesn't end after high school and college. And that needs to seriously change, especially in the Western/American hemisphere. Simply writing down "don't compare, you'll get there" is a great reminder to have for yourself. Everyone learns and grows at their own pace.

30. It Really Is The Little Things That Keep Us Going

When life seems to get too hard, it really is the little things that keep us going. Whether it is something as simple as someone holding a door open for you, or someone complimenting* you on your outfit or your work ethic; those moments are the ones that matter the most. Remember those moments, hold on to them.

#january #january 27th #birthday #aquarius #self care #self worth #self improvement #mental health #reading #books #food #vote #physical health #personal finance #adulting #college #community college #university #movies #college life #study motivation #30th birthday #you are valid #you are worthy #lgbtqia

[jitterbugjive]

i was literally just about to send a reminder that theres 2 weeks left to vote and that intimidation is already happening to early voters, but im glad to see you didnt need it. the only disagreement i have is that im not sure "unlikely" is accurate anymore, since most of one of the parties seems fine with encouraging it now. i'd rather not put those kinds of people in charge of future elections.

I've been noticing an influx of people walking around town with clipboards asking people if they are registered voters

And boy do I hate that question because it's obviously a trap that forces you to lie in order to make them fuck off ASAP. Fuckers don't even have the courtesy to ask 'do you have a moment', they are just primed and ready to pounce

[qqueenofhades]

I was already distressed about the political and social situation in the US, and then this happens. Are there any examples of societies that fought back against fascism and won, without civil or international war breaking out? Surely there must be some success stories in history. How did other societies overcome fascism, are there lessons to be applied to our current situation? Please tell me we're not doomed, because I have no hope for the future.

Sigh.

Okay.

I’ve been through... a lot of the stages of grief by now. That is, rageposting on tumblr, venting to my friends via text, drinking, crying while drinking, lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling, feeling the crushing weight of certainty that we’re all screwed and nothing matters, crying while talking to my sister, crying generally, lying in bed some more, and am currently still in bed while writing this, but am struggling to put on my internet historian aunt hat and offer some comfort to the stricken masses.

First off: This is bad. I’m not even going to pretend this isn’t bad. We all knew RBG had cancer again, but it was pretty fixed in our minds that she would somehow manage to hang on until after the election. 45 days before the biggest presidential election of all time, in the middle of this year, when names including Ted “Zodiac Killer” Cruz and Tom “Time for Roe vs. Wade to go, block federal funding from being used to teach about slavery, send in the military to crush the BLM protesters” Cotton have already been floated as some of her possible replacements? With Trump and McConnell determined to work as fast as possible to steal this seat as brazenly as they can, because they are literal fascists who don’t care about their own example (Merrick Garland was nominated in FEBRUARY of an election year and McConnell held it up for being “too close to the election?”)

Ugh. Anyone who doesn’t get that this is bad or acting like people are overreacting doesn’t get what’s at stake. And when, as we’ve said before and are saying again now, the future of everyone who isn’t a white straight rich Republican man in this country depends on an 87-year-old woman with cancer for the fourth time? Something’s wrong here. RBG’s death did not have to leave us in this total existential panic, and oh yeah, maybe this could have ALL BEEN AVOIDED AND WE COULD HAVE ALSO HAD THREE (3) NEW LIBERAL JUSTICES SECURING PROGRESSIVE LEGISLATION FOR A GENERATION IF SOME OF YOU HAD JUST FUCKING VOTED FOR HILLARY CLINTON IN TWO THOUSAND AND FUCKING SIXTEEN.

(Why yes I am still mad about that, I will be bitter until the end of time that we were consigned to four years and counting of this completely avoidable nightmare because of apathy, misogyny, and Leftist Moral Purity TM, but we’re talking about the future and what can still be done here, not what’s in the past.)

Anyway. Here’s the bright side, which admittedly sucks right now, but it’s been the answer all long:

VOTE.

You have to fucking vote, and you have to fucking vote for Biden/Harris. Everything that we’ve been talking about is no longer a hypothetical; it’s happening right now. This is not just some Awful Worst Case scenario, and it’s not somehow being spouted by privileged white liberals ignoring the struggles of the masses. (Viz: that awful fucking text post with its simpering self-righteousness: “are you punching nazis or just telling oppressed people to vote blue?” I hate that text post with a fiery passion and it’s the exact kind of morally holier than thou leftist propaganda that wouldn’t surprise me if it was generated by a troll farm in Krasnoyarsk.) My dad is disabled and lives on Social Security. Trump’s second-term plan to end the payroll tax takes SSID out by mid-2021, so... I guess that’s my dad fucked then. I’m a gay woman with long-term mental illness, no healthcare, no savings, no current job, and a lot of student debt. My sister has complex health problems and relies intensely on publicly funded healthcare programs. All my family have underlying conditions that would put them at worse risk for COVID (age, asthma, immune issues.) These are just the people IN MY HOUSEHOLD who would be at risk from a second Trump presidency. It says NOTHING about my friends, about all the people far less fortunate than us, and everyone else who IS ALREADY DYING as this nation lurches into full-blown fascism. That is real. It is happening.

Here’s the good news and what you can do:

Democrats are fired up and mad as hell, and they’ve already donated $31 million between the announcement of RBG’s death last night and today, and that number is climbing every second.

You can help by donating to Get Mitch or Die Trying, which splits your donation 13 ways between the Democrats challenging the most vulnerable Republican seats in the Senate. That also has raised EIGHT MILLION BUCKS in the less-than-twenty-four hours.

You can donate RIGHT NOW to Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, vote if your state offers early voting, request your mail-in ballot, or hound everyone you know to ensure that they’re registered.

You can call your US Senators (look up who they are for your state, ESPECIALLY IF THEY ARE REPUBLICAN OR YOU LIVE IN A SWING STATE OR ARE UP FOR RE-ELECTION IN 2020) and phone the Capitol switchboard at 202-224-3121 to voice your insistence that they respect RBG’s last wishes and refuse to vote on any Trump nominee until after January 2021.

The other good-ish news is that I woke up to an email from the Biden campaign this morning about how they’re well aware of this and they’re already on it. BUT WE CANNOT COUNT ON EITHER THEM OR THE SENATE DEMOCRATS TO BE ABLE TO STOP IT. Because Joe Biden is not president and the Senate Democrats do not have a majority, if the Republicans manage to rush a nominee and a vote and all 52 GOP senators vote for that nominee, hey presto, tyranny by majority, a SECOND stolen Supreme Court seat, and a 6-3 hard conservative majority for the next generation. Even if Roberts or Gorsuch sometimes defect on procedural grounds, Kagan, Sotomayor, and Breyer (who is also 82 and thus ALSO might soon be replaceable, thus resulting in an EVEN WORSE ideological swing) would be outnumbered on everything. This is terrible. I’m not even gonna pretend it wouldn’t be.

BUT:

If Joe Biden is elected with a Democratic Senate and House, IT MATTERS. It gets us off the fascism track, it gives us the ability to make progressive law and have it enacted without going to die in Mitch McConnell’s Kill Stack, it gives Biden the executive authority to nominate liberal judges and change Trump’s worst outrages on day 1, it stands as a huge example of a nation managing to reject fascism by democratic process, and while yes, we’d still have a terribly rigged Supreme Court, Democrats would control all the other branches of government and be able to put safeguards in place. The other option is outright fascism and the end of American democracy for good. This may sound alarmist. It’s not. It’s literally what the situation has ended up as, as all of us who were begging people to vote for HRC in 2016 saw coming all along.

So yes. That’s what you need to do, and what WE need to do. We need to make as much goddamn noise as possible, protest, contact elected representatives, make sure everybody pulls their weight and ferociously fights the promised attempt to ram through a new justice before Election Day, all that. But even if that does happen, THEN WE NEED TO FUCKING DONATE, ORGANIZE, AND VOTE FOR JOE BIDEN AND DEMOCRATS UP AND DOWN THE BALLOT. ALL OF US. NO EXCUSES. NO MORE TWITTER LEFTIST ECHO CHAMBERS. NO MORE. THEN, EVEN WITH A RIGGED SUPREME COURT, WE WILL ALL BE SAFER ON NOVEMBER 4TH AND CAN TRY TO FIX WHAT’S BROKEN.

The stakes are just too high to do anything else.

May her memory be a blessing, and a revolution.

#politics for ts #bury me in a mountain of salt #then vote #the end #humoristhefirstcasualty #ask

[nuthin-up-my-sleeve]

My mother’s famous election moment.  Her yanking my little ass around the polls with a death grip since she knew I would find trouble if not supervised closely (yeah I was one of those devil kids).  I remember how calm she was and how she later responded to these assholes.

Poll greeter (man):  Well hey miss Annie.  Here to do your bleeding heart hippie duty?  Still stickin up fer the n-words I see.

The poll register (man):  Oh you’re alone?  Does your husband know you’re registered Democrat and do you even know who is running?  

Poll Booth Attendant (man):  Here’s an empty booth.  Do you need help picking the right candidate or has your husband already told you who to vote for?

Ballot Box attendant (man also):  Well hey little feller are you here to help mommy make the right decisions since daddy isn’t here?

Parking Attendant (yep a man):  Hey Anne could I give you and your boy a ride?  I didn’t see your husband and I know he doesn’t allow you to drive yuk yuk yuk.

My mother was an very attractive 5′-5″ blonde with icey blue eyes that always turned heads.  All these men followed her out to watch her walk away.  With me in tow she spun around and said “such simple closed minded men and all together you still wouldn’t even have an ounce of gumption to see how ignorant you really are.  Good day gentlemen”. 

We walked home and as we turned onto our street she stopped and squatted to me and this I remember so so well because she grabbed my face and made me look her in the eyes.  She said “if you ever talk to me, your sister, your wife, or any other woman like those assholes I swear on my eyes I will take off my shoe and beat you until you know better do you understand me”?  I nodded yes and life went on.  In my early 20′s I did talk to my girlfriend like that because I was being an asshole within ear shot of my mother.  Yeah I got the fucking shoe and a finger in my face and the absolute worst ass chewing imaginable.  Then I married that girl and she still laughs about the look on my face when it happened. 

#ahhhh the early 70's

[mxvladdy]

A Break

Part Duo. Some fluff, some plot. I guess? I just like writing this one. 

Chapters: 1-2-3-4

Two

Hanzo left later that evening with a chaste kiss and a promise to call when he could. You watch him go, waving him off from your little balcony stopping only when he became lost in the sea of people below. The gold of his ribbon disappearing in the blur of faces and colors. Alone again you flop down onto your bed staring watery-eyed up at your ceiling fan. The quiet around you no longer the comforting kind, his soft-spoken presence a larger comfort then you thought. Already you missed the feel of him draped over you in bed, his gentle snoring in your ear.

Glancing at your alarm clock you debate whether it was worth it to get up and do something with your evening or just call it an early night. Fuck it. You were gloriously sore and sleeping sounded amazing right now. Work could wait for tomorrow. Laziness winning over you rose kicking off your leggings slipping under the covers of the freshly made bed, courtesy of Hanzo. Stretching out on his side of the mattress you reach out to your bedside table, fingers ideally pulling Hanzo's latest gift to you.

The metal of the pendant was cool to the touch. The light silver chain of the necklace shone brightly from the twilight outside. Thumbing over the tiny owl impression on the drachma you smile longingly. Slipping it over your head you tuck the coin under your shirt.  

Greece. What an adventure.

You wished he could have stayed longer this time to talk about his travels. Greece had been a place you dreamed of going when you were younger, but gave it up to get your career off the ground. That was your life now, bookkeeping and payroll. Our business needed you more than you needed to travel. Perhaps one day you could feel confident enough to leave the shop for a world tour. Or maybe even a romantic getaway with Hanzo, see if you were really compatible.

Admittedly your romance had been a whirlwind from the start. A drunken kiss with a handsome stranger that should have led to nowhere but a musty motel room followed by an awkward goodbye. But instead, you woke up with his number and a promise of an actual date. Half a year later Hanzo had a drawer of clothes and a toothbrush in the bathroom. Snuggling in deeper under the sheets you yawn clicking off your lamp drifting off with your phone clutched in your hand. You sleep peacefully wrapped in your boyfriend's warm floral scent till a light buzzing wakes you. Your phone vibrates, the light blinding you when you unlock it. Not that you care.

Hanzo (3:14am): 

Shuttle just landed. Be safe for me.

You (3:14am):

Always will :*

And you too please! I find myself rather attached…

Hanzo (3:16am): 

Ha. I will try not to freeze to death.

Hanzo (3:16am): 

Perhaps you could warm me up next time?

You snort wrinkling your nose at his flirting.

You (3:16am):

Yes sir! But it’ll cost you

Hanzo(3:20am): 

A price I will willingly pay.

Hanzo(3:22am): 

I must go, I’ll call when I get the chance.  

You (3:23am): 

Goodnight! Miss you already

You wake late the next morning groggy but warm, tangled in the sheets. Alarm screaming obnoxiously close to your face. Blindly, you swipe at the phone silencing the noise and rise. Waddling groggily you head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You arrive an hour late grinning ear to ear. Your friends and employees glancing up smirking at your poor excuse for calling in sick yesterday. You let them work heading to the back to get your workload started for the day. Setting up in the back of the store in your favorite corner you look over your new assortment of dried leaves, flowers, and fruits.

The background noise of the shop and quiet music overhead lulling you into a comfortable trance. You hum under your breath pulling your scale closer to you blatantly ignoring Tabatha. She circles you like a hawk, keen eyes looking for any opening to start grilling you. The heat of her gaze latching on to the blemishes and love bites you didn’t even bother hiding. Placing your pestle down you sigh turning to her. “Ok. Ok. Lay it on me girl.”

Tabatha moved in fast plopping down next to you grabbing your pile of dried lemon rinds. “In all the time I have known you I’ve never seen this.” She starts shaving the rinds down smaller. “You skipped work, unannounced. During peak season!” She rounds on you dumping the shavings into their allotted jar. “I’m so proud!” You laugh tension you hadn’t noticed you were carrying in your shoulders dissipating. “I’m serious!” She continues. “All this time and I’ve never seen you finally blow off some steam till he showed up.” Tabatha smiles and leans closer flicking a soft curl ticking your ear. “You know you have to bring him around for drinks and leftovers sweets. Shit, the rest of the team wants to meet him too! Your pictures don’t do him justice.” You nod promising to ask next time he came to visit.

The rest of the day moved on from there at breakneck speed, the front portion of the shop bursting with patrons. The back with employees running about, fresh herbs, pastries, and coffee carafes in hand. The din of your business running smoothly a comfort to your frazzled mind. You finish your newest blend with a flourish, sprinkling dried ginger into the jar closing it with a satisfying ‘snap’.  

“Yo Boss! Can you cover the front while I take my break?” Switching places you wish your employee a good break. Perching at the register you make small talk with a few regulars as the evening lull hits. Greeting a cluster of teenagers as they entered you pause mid conversation taking in the new customers coming in behind them.

Oh. Well, this was rare. Omnics came in from time to time sure that wasn’t unusual. You make it a point to welcome everyone equally, as did your employees. But omnics always came in with human companions or solo to pick up an order or gift. And they most certainly never glowed. You eye the two curiously. The green one wandering aimlessly picking up different jars of teas and homemade jams before being over a display case of brightly colored macaroons. The other taller one was dressed in baggy pants merely looked at the counter before making eye contact.

“Ahh~ greetings.” He spoke. His voice, while naturally monotone it held an underlying tone of levity. “I wish to inquire about your tea selections. I have heard you have a unique variety.”

“Oh course!” You blush embarrassed that you were caught staring. “We have a small selection of in house blends, but the bulk of our products are sourced from fair trade shops from India, China, Japan, and Africa.” You recite by heart pulling out your display tray. The omnic looked down at the cards reading each selection as you described them nodding along patiently.

“What a peculiar name?” He picked up your latest custom blend. Southern Dragon. “How do you come up with the names?”

“I let my staff pick and vote on names. But this one-” You smile softly popping the tin open. “I named after someone.” The tea itself didn’t look like anything fancy sure. The blend of reddish-brown sticks looked like something someone could scoop up outside, Tabatha had joked about it often. “ Hojicha, roasted in house with dried ginger and imported nashi pear. This is the first season we are caring it as I like to buy fruits only when in season. It isn’t one of our most popular yet, but many customers have appreciated the mild caramel flavor and slight sweetness of the peaches and gentle tang of the ginger.”

“I see, that sounds very pleasant. I would like a bag of that and perhaps the sharp lemon for my pupil.” You nod scooping out the desired amounts into two small bags weighing them swiftly.

“And anything for you?” You smile less genuinely at the smaller omnic as they all but swaggered over. You had felt his gaze the whole time you had been chatting.

“Hmm.” They leaned on your counter visor not leaving you, long metal fingers clicking on the marble counter top. “I’d take a small shortcake and a three-pack of macaroons, the matcha ones; if they come with your number.”

You freeze choking on your smile, even the other omnic seemed surprised.

“Genji-”  

“We have our business number on the bottom of our boxes and bags, and a popular online storefront.” You ring him up quickly handing him his order.

“Mmm. I was hoping for something more...personal.” They continued voice dropping low into a slightly clipped purr.

“No.” You cut them off quickly, smile gone. “I have a boyfriend.”

They gasp in mock shock. If they had lips you were positive they would be stretched into a shit eating grin. “What a lucky man.” They tip heavily turning without another word to the door, phone out texting animatedly. You look blankly at their abandoned companion waving a hand uselessly at the door.

“I apologize. He sometimes forgets himself. I hope my pupil didn’t offend? I would like to return at a later date.” They bow low in compensation. “I will have him apologize properly when we meet again.”

Meet again… You jerk your head awkwardly still processing what in the world just happened.

“Woooow,” Tabatha drawls wrapping an arm around you watching the two take their leave, the taller one levitating the moment they were outside. “ Wow . Popular with all types huh? Thought I was gonna need to come in here an’ knock heads.”  

“Please,” You scoff recovering to wipe down the counter. “That has to be one for the books, right next to that time I fell in the school fountain at graduation. All white- like a dumb ass.” Tabatha howls with laughter already walking back to your shared office.

“A beautiful day in history. But damn that green one was mighty pleased to hear you were taken.”

“Ha-ya.” You frown rubbing your arm. Now that you think about it it was kinda weird. Perhaps they were a friend of Hanzo’s. He never spoke of omnics, cowboys and old vets, but you would think highlighter green would stick out.  

Tabatha came back talking to the last of your closing staff noticing you were still looking out the window. “Hey- you ok?”

“Yea-yea. Just thinking about it now.” Your friend frowns discarding her armload to lead you back into your office dropping you in your chair.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. But how ‘bout you get started on the paperwork, and I’ll cover the front in case they come back.” You agree already pulling a stack of orders to you booting up your computer. You get a few hours of work done in peace as your employees filter out for the night, bidding you and Tabatha a good night. With a huff she collapses to the couch watching you work for a moment.

“You forgot didn’t you.” Hmm? Tabatha meets your blank stare dark brows raised into her hairline prompting you. Blinking you try slyly to look at your calendar. Was it someone's birthday? Anniversary? “ Gurl ." She jokes. "Dick that good you forgot whine and cheese night?” Oh. Oops. 

Whine and cheese night had been a tradition since grad school, then when you went into business together. Every last Sunday of the month you two had a few too many drinks and bitched about anything that came to mind that month. Tabatha chortled grabbing your keys and turning off your monitor. “Good thing I remember. I got some new vintages and some fancy cheeses I stole from my girl’s fridge.” She leads you out of the shop locking up the building pushing you out into the brisk night air. You walk the short distance to your flat listening to her talk rapidly about her upcoming trip with her girlfriend to France. “Handsome take you anywhere yet?” She asks finally taking a breath at your front door.

“Does the city fair count?” You ask flipping on the lights to your kitchen. You glaze at your friend's face. Clearly it did not. “He isn’t around often enough to do something like that. Not that I mind,” You add quickly trying to get your piece in before she decides to cut in, her frown growing. “We had plans to rent a beach house for a weekend but he had an emergency at work. After that, we just do stay in dates or stuff around town.”

“What, he always on call or something?” Tabby flops hard onto your floor pillow kicking off her shoes. “Or like too afraid to tell his boss off?”

You snort passing your lounging friend an overfilled glass of zinfandel. “Bit late for the background check ain’t it?” She accepts the wine gracefully wiggling deeper into the cushions stealing your remotes. “Besides, I like just having lazy days here. He travels a lot for work so I’m sure that gets exhausting. I doubt a road trip would be relaxing for him. I like just having him here even if it is to just sleep.”

“Rrrriiiggghhtt. ‘Sleep’ .” She snorts looking wholly unconvinced as you settle into your favorite recliner sticking your tongue out teasingly. The two of you get lost in your favorite show then, talking on and off between mouthfuls of pizza and chips. “So-” Tabatha rises a few hours later popping her back. Eyes going to the liquor cabinet dramatically. “Wanna bring out the good shit and tell me all about your impromptu to vacation day?” She wiggles her brows, popping the cork out of your favorite gin bottle pouring you way too much. Downing your first glass in one you hunker down for a long night.

For the second night in a row, buzzing wakes you. The vibrations sharp and rhythmic against your thigh. Groggy from booze and gossip you dig around your chair. “‘Ello?” You mumble wiping drool from your cheek.

“Ah. My apologies-I forgot about time zones. Would you like me to call you back.” Hanzo. You perk up a little stumbling over your passed out friend to your bedroom door.

“No-no. I wouldn’t want to miss this.” You beam rubbing the sleep from your eyes clicking your door closed softly. The haze of the day prior leaving you with his smooth voice, his soft chuckle in your ear made him feel like he was there. The warm presence on your back instead of your sweat-soaked tank clinging to your frame.

“The same can be said for me- but I really should let you sleep. I merely wanted to hear your voice before my… shift started.” Faintly you could hear the sounds of laughter and clinks of plates in the background.

“Where are you?” You ask beyond curious, hoping for a satisfying answer. He paused again, the sound of merriment and chattering fading into the background. “Breakfast and a shift change. It was my turn to cook along with a friend. He had an idea for a 'traditional American breakfast'. It is very hearty, the others are excited. I expect I'll have heartburn for the next week now.”

“Aww! You’ve never made me breakfast!” Ah shit. “Not that that’s a problem!” You backpedal. “Life is hectic and we both have hard schedules.” Silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Hanzo shushed you gently over the phone. “No, you are more than within your right. I do not do all that I would like with you, yet you set aside time for me every time you can.” You snort into dead air. It wasn’t that hard for you, Tabatha all but forced you to take weekends off from work.

“It’s ok. Don’t make it feel like a duty, love. I just… wish we could do more couple like stuff you know?”  You twine your fingers feeling childish for even complaining.

“I understand that feeling, I have been neglectful. Allow me to make it up to you?” You hum faking thinking hard on your answer. “ Darling.”   Your chuckle behind you hand practically hearing the pout on his elegant face. He continues with a huff. “After this assignment I’ll ask for personal leave. A few weeks perhaps? We can do whatever.”

“I like the sound of that.”

#overwatch #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader #overwatch fanfic

[thanksjro]

Last Stand of the Wreckers, Issue #5: I Sure Hope You Didn’t Go and Get Attached to Any of These Characters…

We ended on a cliffhanger last issue, so let’s see what the lads are up to now.

Hm. That’s not great.

Overlord’s just ripped Guzzle in half for the fun of it. If you’re wondering why everyone’s outside now, it’s because he exploded the torture chamber so hard when he came in, it no longer exists. Kup doesn’t appreciate having one half of the Big Gulp duo torn in two, so he goes in for the attack. This doesn’t work out very well for him, as he has his head crushed between Guzzle’s upper and lower halves. This whole situation is a non-issue for Overlord, and barely distracts him from his goal of having Megatron show up to kick his ass. Impactor tries to have a big hero moment by shooting Overlord in the eye with his harpoon hand-attachment. Again, very little effect on Overlord; it doesn’t even seem to register on the same level as getting a little soap in your eye.

Back over with Ironfist and the Big Conundrum, Verity’s arguing that killing Impactor will kill the Wreckers- as a team, not in the literal sense. However, time’s running out, and Perceptor really doesn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of not having Impactor around.

She gets smaller every issue, I swear.

Verity makes her case to Ironfist, trying to play off of his fanboy status; the Wreckers are a symbol of hope, one that Ironfist himself created with his datalogs as Fisitron. Killing Impactor to make things easier for themselves destroys the illusion of a cohesive unit who can always be counted on when the chips are down. Too bad ol’ Ironfist knows Things™, and it’s actually Perceptor who’s swayed by her argument, which is interesting, given that he was about to vote Impactor into an early grave a minute ago.

Perceptor wasn’t always the cool, efficient sniper we see him to be in Last Stand of the Wreckers. He used to be a regular old science nerd, and a relatively talkative one at that. He wasn’t really built for a four million year war.

Then all that talking got him shot and he was left for dead.

He made some changes after that, both in body and personality.

Could his own experience with being forsaken by his peers for his flaws perhaps be influencing him here? Or am I, a reader and giant dork, just trying to justify a very quick backtracking on the narrative’s part, most likely due to page number limitations?

So they decide to fight. Then Pyro suggests they run. The “they” in this case doesn’t include himself. You remember how Optimus Prime’s big character quirk in every continuity is self-sacrifice? Yeah, we’re hitting on THAT portion of Pyro’s hero worship. It’s not exactly what he was hoping for in death, but it’s what’s got to be done at this point.

The others run off, and Pyro shoots the control to the door, bracing for one hell of a fight.

Holy shit, I forgot they had Fort Max with them! That scared the crap outta me.

There’s one last look at our hero before we go, and it…

Well, it sure is something.

Yikes. That’s a series wrap on Pyro!

Now it’s time for us to learn about what really happened on Pova. Turns out the files Ironfist had access to weren’t exactly virginal.

First things first, it was raining, and Impactor is kind of a dick. I mean, we already kind of knew that from what we’ve seen of the guy in the present day story, but this little scene really takes the cake. Springer had to basically beg him to stay with him; none of that “I’m not leaving you behind” nonsense. And the whole “shoot Springer through the midsection” idea? That was all Impactor. Springer doesn’t have a way to dampen the pain the way Impactor suggests, and doesn’t even get a moment to brace himself as he’s blasted more or less in half.

When Springer regains consciousness, he’s treated to the sight of Impactor and Prowl having a little chat. It turns out there’s a problem, and that problem’s name is bureaucracy. Pova is a protected planet, declared off-limits by the Neutrality Agreement, so any Cybertronian war business is pretty much null and void there. The fact that the Wreckers are there at all could have disastrous repercussions if the Decepticons catch wind of this and tell the Povians. They’ll have to let Squadron X go.

But it looks like Prowl forgot that Impactor’s a bad boy who doesn’t play by your daddy’s rules.

He walks into where they’re holding Squadron X, chained together into a circle on their knees, with their arms pinned behind their backs, locks the door behind himself, and executes every last one of them as Springer bangs on the door trying to get him to stop. This, obviously, puts a bit of a damper on everyone’s mood.

Even Whirl’s bummed out, and you just know that guy loves a good ‘Con-killing spree.

I guess the moral of the story here is Impactor kinda sucks.

Speaking of Impactor, Overlord’s currently stomping him to death as he holds Springer by the face. It’s honestly almost tender, the delicate placement of his fingers. It also reminds you that Overlord is literally twice the size of Springer, who, as a triple-changer, should already be on the tall side. Overlord is a big dude.

Springer’s still doing okay, because he knows that even if he doesn’t make it, the rest of his team will, and they’ll save the day and get all those Autobot prisoners off Garrus-9.

Ha. Haha. Oh, Springer, you naïve fool. You forgot that this was hell, didn’t you? Overlord already took care of the Autobot prisoners.

Someone really took their gun to that hanging guy on the left and said “fuck this dude in particular.”

Then the calvary arrives! With guns! And art tangents!

Surely things are looking up now!

Ironfist throws Springer a gun that’s about as big as he is- where did he get that?- and Springer proceeds to light Overlord the fuck up.

You don’t get the B-word pass at IDW unless you’ve already had your series truncated and the entire universe is about to get ended for a reboot. That’s just how it goes.

Of course, even the big boy gun isn’t enough to do much to Overlord outside of annoy him, and Springer gets his face ripped off for his troubles.

Now it’s just Ironfist and Verity left, and Overlord is very much looking forward to doing very bad things to both of them. Ironfist has a gambit though! That gun Springer had was actually firing deterrence chips into Overlord’s body, and now he’s just chock-full of the things. And since Ironfist has all of Aequitas in his head now- including the detonation codes- he can do this:

He blew Overlord’s lips clean off! The evil truly is defeated.

However, using this newfound power has costs- Ironfist is knocked clean out by a sudden pain in his head, eyes flaring and fizzing as he hits the ground, leaving Verity alone with Overlord’s flaming, animated endoskeleton.

Yeah no, he’s still not dead, and he’s still not fucking over Megatron, lamenting on how he just isn’t sure how he’ll fight him, now that he’s little more than robot bones. Verity has to be the one to break it to the guy that Megatron’s dead, and Overlord takes it about as well as he can.

I’m sorry Overlord, but at what friggin’ point were you promised ANYTHING from Megatron “Peace Through Tyranny” of Tarn? You were threatened, but that’s a little different than a vow to get revenge. Hell, that’s not even on the same level as as pinky-promise. What a baby.

Impactor ends the pity party by shooting Overlord with his alt-mode’s weaponry and then does a little something for Springer… by not ending Overlord. Nope, looks like the death of Springer finally let him see the error of his ways, and they’re going to bring Overlord in to stand trial, because while the guy deserves to die, Impactor doesn’t deserve to kill him. Maybe if more Transformers took this little idea to heart, they wouldn’t still be at war four million years and counting.

Impactor goes to radio for a ride, and Ironfist wakes up. It looks like everything’s going to be okay now.

Or not.

Yep, those weird brain-seeking bullets Ironfist had loaded into all the guns he brought on the trip were perfected after a disastrous prototype testing accident. THE accident, if you will. Prowl knew about this, and used it to his advantage, throwing Ironfist on the mission, with the intent that he’d be used to unlock Aequitas. Topspin, of course, caused the plan to change a bit, but it all worked out in the end.

Also, Springer isn’t dead. He’s pretty messed up, but he’s not dead. They’ve got Ratchet on it, it’ll be fine.

And thus we arrive at the debriefing, between Prowl and Ultra Magnus. Magnus is questioning just why Prowl had this mission sanctioned in the first place, if he was so very against the Aequitas trials while they were happening. The answer is simple: propaganda. If the Decepticons were to find out that the trials involved nothing but Autobot war crimes, and lots of ‘em, it would be the ultimate blow to the Autobot forces.

Ultra Magnus thinks that they should go public with the information, but Prowl disagrees. The only copy of Aequitas is left with Prowl, and while Ultra Magnus would like to trust that he wouldn’t destroy this info, the end result is left a mystery.

But you’ll have to read the sequel series to see just how that all turns out.

If Ironfist is dead, just who is writing up this narrative framing device for the issue? Why, it’s none other than Verity Carlo, using the power of the internet. I guess she has access to the Cybertronian internet now. Wonder who hooked her up with that. Probably not Ultra Magnus. Maybe Percy did her a solid as a thanks for surgically removing Overlord’s will to live.

Whether you want it to or not, I suppose.

This miniseries is a little dark, ain’t it?

Verity went to all the trouble to leave Earth and hide in the escape pods so she wouldn’t be abandoned, only to end up right where she started, with a heaping spoonful of PTSD to pair off with all the disappointment and lack of friends in her life. She watched a lot of people die on Garrus-9, and she’s in no way battle-hardened like one could argue the other surviving Wreckers are. All she has at this point is a blog she inherited from a nerd who accidentally committed a slow-burn suicide. I hope Perceptor will keep in touch with her, at least, seeing as he’s the only one who was also there and isn’t dead.

That’s the end of the miniseries proper, but not the entirety of the story. Up next, we’ll be looking at all the fun little extras Last Stand of the Wreckers came with.

#transformers #jro #last stand of the wreckers #issue 5 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #wreckers trilogy

[anexplanationofunfortunateevents]

the voting ends today but the fight almost certainly does not

Republicans are filing increasingly desperate and ridiculous lawsuits trying – emphasis on TRYING – to have votes thrown out because they’re big old losers who know they can’t win legitimately.

If you’re the kind of person who can get into the weeds of federal court filings on elections, you probably already have your hair on fire. If you’re not, I don’t recommend picking up the habit right now. It’s just going to make your head swim. These are so incoherent and meritless that even our corrupt federal judiciary and plenty of conservative state judges have frequently brushed them off. I get the sense that Trump’s lawyers are more hoping to win those cases than trying to win them. What they seem to be trying to do with these lawsuits is some mix of the following dishonest things:

depress turnout by making people feel like he can just have their votes thrown out so why bother;

set something, anything, up on track for the Supreme Court, which Trumpworld is (not unreasonably) confident they have sufficiently corrupted;

create a general sense that there’s some authority other than the voters who get to decide this election.

That is what makes me think Trump’s plan to barricade himself in the White House and tweet out a declaration of victory the first moment Fox News reports a good exit poll for him is only mostly about his pathetic need to self-soothe with an autocratic display. He’s also making one last go-for-broke play for the public narrative. He thinks – again, not unreasonably – that if he says he won, then he’ll get a bunch of “Trump Declares Victory” headlines and chyrons, which puts a thumb on the scale in terms of how people frame any resulting developments in their own minds. It’s not a good strategy, it’s more of a hail Mary, but it’s the only potentially helpful option he’s left for himself.

All of this has, once again, summoned the specter of the 2000 election.

We can’t look one day into the future. But we might be able to prepare ourselves for it if we look about twenty years into the past.

There’s kind of a fable that’s built up around the 2000 Florida recount that Republicans were just tougher and savvier and wanted it more, while Democrats clumsily Ned Starked everything up. It’s important to reject that premise as fundamentally abhorrent. In a functioning democracy, campaign strategy is irrelevant after Election Day, because voters are in charge. The Gore campaign, to its credit, was buying into the basic premise of democracy, and had therefore planned their campaign around trying to win an election fair and square. When you punish or condemn people for that, you are ceding ground to the fascists and agreeing to fight on their terms.

The Bush campaign was just fundamentally not operating from the premise of democracy, but from the premise that elections are merely a weak opening bid from the electorate. Before anyone even knew there would be a recount, they had already gamed out a scenario where they could win even if they lost. The contingency they’d planned for, that struck them as most likely, was actually that Gore would win the Electoral College but Bush would win the popular vote. They planned out a whole pressure campaign to create enough of an uproar to give some friendly Republican state legislatures somewhere just enough of an excuse to award electors to Bush even if their constituents had voted for Gore. That wasn’t the scenario they ended up facing, of course. But when you do those kind of war games, you have to think about what your opponent would do, which means the Bush team was ready to hit the ground running with a whole bunch of things they had been expecting Gore’s campaign to do. The core point of whatever they were going to do was always to create an excuse for the nuclear option of having Republican state legislators send Republican electors to install George W. Bush no matter what their voters wanted.

One major difference between then and now is that generation of Republicans knew what they were doing was abnormal and wrong, so they kept it under wraps. Now they’re so high on their own supply that they brag about it to The Atlantic, because they genuinely don’t realize that people will object and try to stop them if they give up the element of surprise.

In 2000, the nuclear option of state legislatures just ignoring their voters to install Bush was not something the Gore campaign could have reasonably foreseen, and even if they did have an in-house psychic to warn them about it, it’s not something they could have realistically stopped except by winning with the biggest margin possible, which they were already trying to do. In 2020, Republicans are basically trying to run the same play, but against Democrats who very much are as prepared as they could possibly be, and by “Democrats,” I mean Democrats at every level. Inside the campaign, Biden campaign senior adviser Ron Klain ran Gore’s recount effort in Florida, and is therefore the last person to have any illusions about the opposition. Their lawyers are fucking beasts. Outside the campaign, Democratic voters have already voted, dragged their friends out to vote, and are amped for whatever fight tomorrow brings.

And, unlike 2000, any formal government processes are going to have to go through House Speaker Nancy D’Alessandro Pelosi, and honey, she is not having it. Remember, Pelosi has already thwarted not one but two Trump regime connivances to steal elections. In 2018, she successfully deterred any attempt to undermine Democrats’ midterm victory. And with her crisp, digestible, precision strike impeachment strategy, she neutered the HUNTERGAZI plot that Trump had every intention of using to sabotage the election this year. (God only knows what other schemes she headed off by making an example out of the pressure campaign against Zelensky. Any foreign leader or official who might have been tempted to cave under similar pressure by Trump got put on notice that trying to appease him quietly was not going to make their lives any less complicated.) No wonder she felt emboldened to tell the Trumpist wing of the Supreme Court to sit their asses down if they know what’s good for them.

What Democrats – and other small-d democrats and progressives – can do, we’re doing. You need to take heart from that, and brace yourself for a couple of stressful weeks.

Unfortunately, we can’t control everything. We can’t control what Trump will do to seize the narrative, and we can’t do much about how the press responds. And again, I’d point back to 2000 as a cautionary tale. Did you know that most of the networks actually called the race right, and they did it pretty fast? It’s true! Early-ish that night, they called Florida for Gore. And, as a subsequent investigation showed, Gore got more votes in Florida! But the ballot count was tighter than it should have been – a lot of registered voters who were likely to have preferred Gore were kicked off the rolls in a racist purge – so they did a reasonable thing and retracted the initial analysis to say the state was too close to call.

I did say most of the networks. I’ll give you one guess which was the outlier. John Ellis – head of the decision desk (ie, the decision of when to call a race for one candidate or the other) at Fox News and first cousin of candidate George Bush and Florida Governor Jeb Bush – somehow knew something about the Florida vote count that the Associated Press didn’t. Late that night, as Gore’s numbers were actually ticking up, Ellis called Florida for Bush. (I might’ve been more circumspect making those implications five years ago, but these people have forcefully rejected the benefit of the doubt.) The other networks, embarrassed by the earlier retraction and exhausted after a long night, leapt after Ellis like lemmings in five minutes flat.

This created a narrative that seamlessly dovetailed with the Bush campaign’s evolving strategy: a Bush win was a fait accompli, so why was sore loser Gore insisting on this recount, wasn’t it taking way too long? Of course, the truth was that nobody actually wins an election before the votes are counted, so if Bush really wanted to get this over with, why was he so resistant to having so many votes counted even once?

Because, of course, while Bush’s top campaign people were out in front of the press loftily insisting that this recount was an irrelevant waste of the country’s time and attention, Republican lawyers were down in Florida doing everything they could to run out the clock. Deadline after deadline loomed and then passed with a bunch of Federalist Society hacks badgering and haggling over every single ballot. Said Federalist Society hacks included John Roberts, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett.

So legal correspondents and voting rights advocates, unfortunately, aren’t crazy to have their hair on fire about the Supreme Court once again doing what happened next in 2000: the court ordered all the counts to stop until arguments that it scheduled for the day before an arbitrary deadline. Then they handed down a decision that even they knew was so incoherent and indefensible that they said it wasn’t supposed to be used as precedent in any other case, even though the Supreme Court’s job for over two hundred years had been to hand down rulings that lower courts could use as precedent.

(Seriously. Guys. If Doc Brown ever tosses you the keys to his DeLorean, your mission is to go back to 1999 and run Chief Justice Rehnquist over with it. Then – and this is important – back up and run over him again. Twice. Then you can go buy stock in Google or feed Trump to zombie vampire bats or hit up a Borders or whatever.)

If you’re not really familiar with this story, you’re saying “wait, what? Why did people stand for this bullshit?” FAIR QUESTION. There are a lot of reasons, though no excuses. One reason that’s been previously underrated, I guess, is that Bush hadn’t spent the week before the election running around telling everyone who would listen that “what we’re gonna do is, we’re gonna make ourselves a huge pain in the ass while people are trying to count votes, and then we’re gonna whine about, ‘why is it taking so long to count all these votes?’ Heh heh heh.”

If he had … well, I’m pretty sure at least 538 Floridians would have been alarmed enough to make a better choice than they ultimately did.

I always want to be able to share an action item. This time, I can’t. (Unless you can vote but haven’t yet, in which case, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON TUMBLR, GET YOUR ASS IN LINE AND STAY THERE.) I don’t know what the world is going to look like six hours from now. It’s entirely possible that there’s a Biden blowout big enough that Trump just gives up and flees the country. But assume we’re not going to get to take the easy way out of this. Get organized and stay fired up. WE RIDE AT DAWN, unless Florida and/or Texas breaks our way by 10:30, in which case, WE DRINK AT 10:31.

#2020 election #2000 election

[mrs-evadne-cake]

This is something i like to discuss for fun, u dont have to answer if u dont want to: what party do you think the characters of ST would support? Its already canon in S2 that the Wheelers are Republicans and the Hendersons are Democrats, i guess Robin and the Byers family could be democrats too, but what about the rest like Steve, El, Max, Hopper and the Sinclairs?

Sorry for taking so long. I needed to mull over this and try to sort out timelines. 

I don’t think we know quite enough about the Sinclair’s to solidly guess, except statistically they’d have voted Dem in 1984- they’d have lived through the Civil Rights Movement, Mr. Sinclair fought in Vietnam and is proud enough of his service that his son idolized it, and they definitely actively discuss politics and civics frequently since Erica is terrifying. If I had to I’d say  Dems with fiscally conservative leanings. 

Hopper’s father lived through the depression, watched the effect of the dust-bowl and would have been the right age to have fought in WWII. I see Hopper being raised with a sort of distrustful right-wing populism. Hopper himself tossed the right wing part but took the distrust and the ‘fuck the man’ part to heart- though he still enlisted in Vietnam pretty much right after high school (the time for a tour, becoming a cop, moving to NYC, and having Sara is extremely crowded and unlikely for him to have been in the draft lottery) but doesn’t like to talk about it (see: Darkness On The Edge of Town). I’m going to say Hopper wasn’t a voter. Told everyone it was all bullshit and they were suckers for bothering cause they were all the same…at least until he ended up with El and a moral obligation to vote out the bastards responsible for hurting his kid (he’s not forgetting that time they tortured him either). Hopper votes against Republicans out of pure spite. 

Joyce started getting involved in causes at the end of high-school- busing to Civil Rights and anti-war marches- her parents hated it and she’d come home and be grounded every time but she went anyway. She never really got the chance to really get into the counter-culture movement of the later 60′s though, since she married Lonnie early and Lonnie wouldn’t have his wife running around participating in all that shit-stirring garbage instead of at home where she belonged. Joyce got the the caring exhausted out of her for a long time- but with everything that’s happened since 1984 she’s starting to get involved again. Joyce always votes for the most progressive candidate. 

For the Party I honestly can’t even imagine voting normally with what they know about…everything.  Like, how the hell can El vote for anyone given what happened to her? Project MKUltra (in real life) spanned the time from ‘53-73, and obviously through 1983 in the show so it’s not like there’s one administration or party to blame. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were almost killed by the CIA at 11 years old. These kids Trust No One. 

Nancy’s political leanings are ‘Whistleblower’ - Doc Owens fields calls by everyone from local politicians to presidential candidates about how to keep Nancy Wheeler away from them at all costs. Nancy never holds her nose and votes- she’ll stick to her morals and ideology even if the outcome is a disaster. Till the day she dies she never admits that voting for Nader was a mistake.  

Jonathan votes Dem.  He doesn’t talk or fight about it. Just shows up on election day and votes. When he’s on assignment or shooting somewhere out of the country he always remembers to get an absentee ballot. He re-registers when he moves. 

Steve gets absolutely paralyzed by indecision every time there’s an election since at this point he’s pretty terrified of both the Russian and United States Government, equally, since one tortured him and the other tortured his friends and keeps almost ending the world. Also his family are rich Republican WASP yuppies and he has no idea how to cope with distrusting The Man. 

Also, also he’s really confused about where the hell his polling place is.

 Ultimately he votes for whoever Robin and Dustin are voting for and feels pretty good about it. 

Thanks for the ask! I really enjoyed this one!

#stranger things #politics #asks

[hellboyyy25]

In an attempt to brain wash me around the 2016 elections, my family was telling awful horrific things that may happen. Me being a freshly 18 year old first time voter, who never followed politics, almost failed high school and has a hard time simply reading, I took my families word for the things they said because I believed them, and believed they truly cared to benefit the world and cared for me and the community I was become apart of (lgbtq+). I was basically tricked into voting for Dump Truck through manipulation by people I trusted the most.

Now this isnt exactly what this post is about, just a small back story to lead into the hypocrisy I noticed from my family and the more Conservative side of crap. It was around that time there was a lot of paranoia in my household. I had never cared or even wanted to involve myself in politics as heavy discussions can sometimes bring me such crippling anxiety I go days, weeks, even months, (at my worst moment) nauseous, unable to get out of bed, eat or simply take care of basic needs for myself with such bad paranoia I couldnt even step outside of my home and every loud plane that flew over head I was certain we were about to be bombed. So I'd avoided certain topics, but I was convinced I had to vote to "do the right thing" out of fear. It was at this point my family went and registered me to vote without even asking me and told me I had to do this or we all may be screwed, even using religious tactics saying things like "we are in the end times but he is the prophet to save us all" and at the time I was very ignorant, and again paranoid. (I no longer believe any of this stuff so please spare me how stupid I was) They were using a lot of family guilt and manipulation to get me to the point where I felt if I didnt vote in the Dump Truck we would all practically be dead, but it is funny to me that this coming election year, while my family all still have the same fears (a lot rooted in racism and bigotry or complete misinformation or propaganda set up by said people) they all like to spew the same "your vote counts, make sure you vote" stuff all over social media, and are desperate to get as may people to vote on their side as possible. However, I've noticed how they haven't once pestered me to make sure I vote this year, they did not register me themselves, they haven't said a word to me about the upcoming election, I have not heard how my vote is important. Why? Could it be because I am older now? Perhaps, but knowing them as well as I do, I know its actually because they know I am not voting in Dumpster, my vote still counts, but not towards their agenda. Therefore it isn't important to make sure I register, in fact I'm sure they'd prefer I didnt vote, and I bet they have no idea I'm even registering to voting myself!! What I have heard is how Dumpster Trumpet "will win" "no doubt about it" which really made me feel like my vote truly wouldn't count and that I shouldnt even go an vote, I just shouldnt try because I will lose. But that is exactly what they want, they want people to lose hope as early as possible so there are less and less votes coming in from the "already losing" (according to them) side, whereas they constantly promote how Dump Truck will forsure win, giving the Conservative/Republican side more hope, therefore more people will vote with the acknowledgement that they will "undoubtedly win" if you've seen this bullshit, and considered not voting because you think you may lose, well I just have to say do it anyways. Even if you truly think you will lose, you still need to fucking vote, it is so vidal that we keep that fucking large headed orange out of the office as soon as possible. Maybe we will lose but we really have to fucking try. I don't think I can go another four years of Police brutality, racism, xenophobia, homophobia and transphobia in that position of power any longer. We owe it to ourselves, our communities, our fallen brothers and sister who cannot go out and vote any longer, to at the very least say we tried come election day. This is so vidal for all minority communities. So please VOTE.

If youd had asked me if I'd care about something like this even two years ago I would have said no, I was so blind and ignorant. That was my PRIVILEGE! This last year especially has really made me reevaluate so much, I do not want the privilege of being allowed to stay ignorant on topics so heavy because I am scared when so many people do not even know what that privilege looks like.

#this is something ive been wanting to say for a while #but i felt like i couldnt get it into proper words #but as we gst closer and closer to the election i feel like its just so important to say #please vote #vote #register #register to vote #voter registration #voterepublicansout #go vote #vote out the orange #my experience #my voter experience #manipulation #manipulated to vote in a dump truck #regret #i regret not teaching myself this stuff sooner #but kids just dont care #and at the time i was just a kid #a white kid who had the privalege to stay ignorant #and that was fucking wrong

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2283

i did a bunch of work today. kinda exhausted.

i attended and took notes in class, i cleaned my room and went through my wardrobe to get rid of stuff in the first real clothing purge of the last like five years, and then i did all of the assignments that were due for earth science before 6pm, which was weird for me bc i usually do them after everything else during the day. but i had time, so i did them early. i also listened to two sections of math lecture, so i can do homework for that section tomorrow, and maybe get a head start on the rest of my exhaustive list of homework for each day of the rest of the semester. quite literally, i made a list. numbered it, put in all of my assignments and when i'd do them, so i have it all laid out in front of me so i can keep to the schedule, because if i fall behind any more i will not finish the semester. but i have to, and i have to have something to show to my professor tomorrow to let her know i'm not giving up, but that instead it's my mental inertia that is really preventing me from being productive. mental inertia is what i'm calling my brain's unwillingness to do a single fuckin thing on any given day. because of the definition and practical understanding of inertia, it means though that if i want it to move, i have to move it myself. i have to push it. because that's really what i'm dealing with - an unwilling blob of disaster that has a decent ability to function if it ever gets off its ass. so i need the motivation to push that blob until it starts sliding. lots of principles of physics here: inertia, forces, static and kinetic friction. yknow, the drill.

anyway, i'm proud of myself for today, even though it feels like i missed doing stuff. breaking things down into specific details helps me, so having a day-by-day calendar that goes line by line telling me what i need to do on a given day will help me push my dumbass brain into gear. it's a variation, i suppose, on the block method of task organization andrew tells his clients about. sticky notes worked for a semester. a detailed planner worked really well for a semester. so now, straight-up pads of paper will have to work for the rest of the semester. i need to rotate my methods so i don't get complacent and ignore things, like i can easily do if things are uniform and are exactly the same. which is why a list is easier i guess, because yes it's all supposed to look the same, but it's a different visual thing than a wall of brightly-colored sticky notes that end up blending into the faded yellow wall. which is a problem i have. so. i'd like to go back to the planner thing, but that also worked best when i was on campus and not stuck at home for school stuff.

also i talked to joel a little bit today. sort of a normal interaction: he asked me if i wanted to fight, i begged for death, he said no, i said why, he gave some bullshit answer, then we changed the topic. kinda funny tbh, that's sort of our way of checking in on each other. it allows me to actually tell him how i'm feeling, and while he doesn't give up much information himself, a lot of it is supporting me and my nonsense and buffoonery as i simply exist as a ball of Anxiety™ that stress-cleans and vibrates in place as i contemplate the tasks i must complete. today was an anxiety day, so i told him. [it's nice to tell someone things about my emotional state and for them to take me and what i say at face value instead of trying to break me down into pieces of "drama" and "not drama," because that's what my mom does. if i feel too much, her first response is "what's real and what's drama," or "you're being dramatic," or some other equally bullshit gaslighting of my emotional state that's fuckin fragile in the first place. like, listen linda. "what's real" all of it. "what's drama" none of it, you moldy peach pit. i feel what i feel, and you are not allowed to tell me that what i'm feeling isn't real, so shut your mouth and sit the fuck down, you melted stick of unsalted butter.] but yeah. joel actually listens and i love the shit out of him for it.

and lastly, i watched a christmas movie. by myself. before thanksgiving. but. in my defense, it was about a struggling writer at a writing conference who ends up repeatedly unknowingly bumping into the keynote speaker, a published author of whom she happens to be a fangirl in increasingly embarrassing situations at first. and then they're paired as writing buddies for the conference, and he gives her pointers and they banter and work together and it's just really cute and the Drama occurs when he's trying to tell her he's the author but she keeps rushing to go somewhere and it's the keynote and the author walks in and it's HIM. THE DRAMA. THE BETRAYAL. THE YEARNING. and then he comes to her dad's house and surprises her on christmas day with a letter from a publisher bc her revised copy of her manuscript was really good bc of all the help he gave her and the experiences they shared and all the good stuff and she said it was basically a happy ever after, to which he replied, "i guess it is." and then she says, "so kiss me already," and points to the mistletoe above them and it's SO CUTE AND SWEET AND I ALMOST CRIED.

but anyway, i feel like a hypocrite because christmas!! shouldn't!! happen!! before!! thanksgiving!! that's!! a!! rule!! and i HATE IT when people put up christmas decorations in early november, but at this point i'm accepting that it's something that gives people joy so i really shouldn't step on that. it's just. learning to accept that people enjoy certain things and i should encourage them instead of rag on them for it. i'm not perfect. i'm still learning. and i want to be a kinder person to people, more loving and accepting and supportive, and i'm slowly overcoming my own hatred of things as i grow and distance myself further from the shit that made me this way. i'm learning! if i make a mistake please tell me gently, because i want to be better but i also have RSD and i WILL shut down and tear myself down forever if i am told harshly bc that's just how i am. i'm trying to get over it a little at a time by accepting things as time goes on, but in the meantime i need help. so that's all, i guess.

thanks for reading and for caring, i love you guys and i hope you're enjoying things that being you joy, even if other people give you shit for it. i will do my best to support you!

also if you're in the US and are of voting age and are registered and haven't already voted, GO VOTE TOMORROW. some states have same-day registration, so bring an ID and go register if you need to. this election will determine our futures - i know so many of us are in circumstances that would be harmed if we had another four years of the racist orange peel in office now, so i know many others who may straight-up die because of it. we need protections. we need to have our rights protected. we need to have our lives protected. and we can't do that with the damaged candy corn in office for any longer. he'a already fucked with us enough. we can't afford any more of it. now i'm just angry ranting. please, go vote for joe biden. politics is like public transit: if there's no train going exactly where you need to go, you don't just not get on the train. you take the one that gets you the closest, and work your way from there. that's joe biden. and, if biden does indeed win, our fights aren't over. we have people we need to protect from the conservatives and racists and white supremacists that exist goddamn everywhere. we need to keep reminding people that it's our responsibility to take care of one another in every way we can. there's a laundry list of things that needs to be fixed; unfortunately they won't happen all at once. so we have to keep fighting, no matter who's in office. VOTE.

VOTE.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2200s #sunshine boy #vote #vote for biden #settle for biden #seriously #thank u

[yessoupy]

okay here is my braindump of my election day experience as an election clerk.

this was my 3rd election to work. the other two i was the presiding judge. this meant that i hired my workers and was responsible for everything and the ultimate judge of the election law for that precinct...... lot of responsibility!!! hated it!!!! so stressful. so when i was hired on friday i asked the presiding judge (pj) if he’d worked an election before and he said he’d worked 6, and that his alternate judge was also experienced, and so i was like yessssssss i’m not even remotely in charge.

so i arrive at about 5:45am, call time at 6am, and just about everyone is already there and kind of...milling about. when the first student clerk arrived she started setting up the ePollbooks (which are a saving grace good GOD) and then the other one showed up and both had worked early voting so they knew what was going on.

anyway, we get going and it’s not an hour in before i’m realizing that the pj and aj are both .... not quite experts. and like ... i really do know more than they do. FUCK i think, grabbing the election manual off the pool table (we were in a tiny little community center) and flipping through to find the answer to the question.

as the day goes on, i get called in to handle ANYTHING that is not an ideal voter or one who just needs to fill out a statement of residency (SOR). curbside voter? skye! oh, the curbside voter requested a mail-in ballot but never got it or -- decides she never even requested it? skye, what do we do? (not only what do we do, but can you handle this difficult person? she’s angry. well no shit she’s angry you’re clueless!!!) an election clerk scanned herself in to vote and then forgot to scan the code into the judge’s booth controller (JBC) so she never got an access code to vote so now it says she voted but she didn’t? skye!! how do we fix this??? (..... “the training i attended on friday said there IS a way but the presiding judge would be trained on it.” and did the pj know what to do? nope. so my response was, “get on the phone on the judge’s hotline.”) more curbside, skye!!! oh wow this guy is wearing a MAGA hat, did no one else notice? (so i nudge my JBC partner to go ask him to take it off bc she’s a nurse and knows how to be firm etc). 

voters coming in not registered and having us go through the scanning and searching for them and they call me over to do my search magic when they can’t find them in the system and i say, “do you happen to remember when you registered to vote?” (because if it was awhile ago and they haven’t voted in a presidential election in awhile -- next questions -- they would have been on suspense for a 4-year period and then dropped off the rolls as inactive which is WHY YOU CHECK TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE STILL REGISTERED) and their answer is, “oh i haven’t registered to vote.” “well okay, i can issue you a provisional ballot but i’ll be honest with you, since you’re not registered to vote it will not be counted.”

the other one that was ‘fun’ (read: kind of heartbreaking) was not being able to find the voter in the ePollbook but calling the registrar and getting their certificate number and STILL note being able to find them and me telling the pj to call the registrar AGAIN and check the “valid as of” date and that call taking forever on hold so I take the pj’s personal cell phone and search the county registration system MYSELF to see that the voter’s registration is valid as of november 15. 

infuriating was being called over to see why the registration wasn’t in the system when the voter had their certificate in their hand and it said “valid as of november 5.” 

so anyway, like every election day i am reminded how stupid people can be (my first curbside blamed democrats for getting rid of straight ticket voting and ... it was definitely the republicans; a voter going through the whole ballot and being pissed off at the end when everything was listed as “not selected” because he hadn’t pressed enter after each selection so i showed him how to do it and he said, “i was doing that!” when he clearly wasn’t) and also how this completely decentralized way of running elections with human beings who are literally temp workers meeting each other for the first time on election day is the BEST security against fraud lmao. so fucking weird.

#2020 election #election clerk

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Playing Games (baon)

Summary: In the aftermath of Internal Disputes, Sans wasn't alone, not when his own thoughts could be haunting him.This wasn't how things were supposed to work, none of it, and there was nothing he would do but wait.

Tags:  Kustard, Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Major Character Injury, Hospitals, References to Collaring

Notes:  Now, I want you to know that I say this with the greatest sincerity possible, but all you people that got me shipping kustard? I hate you all.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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The hospital chairs weren’t bad when it came to comfort, especially if you ran a little shorter in the pants than average. Not that it would’ve mattered much if they weren’t, Sans was well-trained in how to get to sleep in any and all places, knew exactly how to curl up in a folding chair for maximum comfort, no matter how hot or cold the climate got around him.

Tonight, he was only too tired to sleep. That didn’t matter either, he’d been worse off plenty of times before. Only thing that mattered was that Paps was the one sleeping, and that was enough of a topsy-turvy to make Sans want to check they hadn’t missed an exit and were still in the right universe.

Probably were; from what Stretch said, when you first took a sideways step into another world, you could feel the wrongness of it in your bones. His bones felt shaky and sore, a fine litter of bruises all along his side where he’d hit the asphalt, but none of them were sending out Morse code squawking that the sky was falling, so they were all right there. Chicken Little would have to wait for another day, though maybe he’d check in with Stretch’s little flock, see how their bones were feeling--

Sans ran a weary hand down his face, smelling the lingering smoky char. Fuck, he was tired.

In the hospital bed surrounded by machines and IV’s, Papyrus was lying perfectly still, and it was so fucking wrong to see. Even when he was sleeping Paps usually twisted and turned like he was training for the next Olympics. That little quirk cost Sans plenty of his own sleep when they were kids, nights huddled together for warmth beneath a threadbare blanket and all the while his baby bones bro tried to sleepwalk a watusi up his spine.

Sometimes Sans missed that little kid.

The fancy suit Papyrus always wore when he was playing ambassador was gone, replaced by a hospital issue gown that would give a peepshow of his pelvis when he stood. His old clothes were past the dry cleaning stage, scorched all the way up his spine and yeah, that sight was gonna haunt Sans’s dreams a coupla times in the near future, as was the bitter taste of his own soul in his throat when he crawled over to him, all the dazed moans and screams around them as he clung to his brother, frantically checking him over.

Yeah, let’s close that scene and set the memory box aside for those upcoming dreams to rifle through. No need to re-live the nightmare during the daytime, too.

Sans shifted in the chair, pulling his bare, bony feet up onto the cushion. He hadn’t changed his own clothes yet; about all he’d managed was kicking off his shoes, his filthy socks draped over them like the peels of the world’s most disgusting fruit. His travel outfit was a lil’ different than his bros, a hoodie and shorts were about as fancy as he cared to get, maybe a pair of sunglasses if he was feeling particularly feisty about it.

That getup was fine for someone on security team, something Papyrus very much was not, and Sans was planning to have a nice, long chat about that with him whenever his brother finally woke up.

He was gonna wake up and Sans was gonna be here waiting when he did, thanks.

As if magnetically drawn, a compass endlessly searching for north, Sans’s eye lights slid back to the bed towards his sleeping brother. His skull was still abnormally pale against the pillowcase, a revealing sign of magic drain despite the IV steadily dripping at his bedside. So very pale, except for the fine line of a fresh crack running down the side of his skull. Barely visible, really, someone who didn’t know any better might mistake it for a cranial suture.

Sans knew better.

It’d been a lot worse before Tori started in on it, crawling over to them through the rubble on the tarmac, ignoring shouts to stay down and her normally pristine white fur had been filthy, hands already caked with crimson marrow even as she reached out to Papyrus. The ugly wound Sans could barely stand to look at vanished beneath a thick green glow and that little crack was all that was left, a souvenir of Papyrus’s first trip to California. His brother had slumped to the ground after, those thready, pained moans fading. He’d been unconscious ever since.

He was gonna be fine; both Tori and Blue told Sans’s that over and over on the plane ride home, gonna be just fine. He was out cold was all, used up his magic down to the last dregs generating enough of a shield to cover himself and two other people besides. Right now it was nothing but a waiting game, Sans moving his pawn across the board until he landed on the ‘good morning, sunshine’ spot.

Just fine, sure, and Sans believed them. But he really wished he could roll doubles right now and speed up the process.

Most of his thoughts were either being firmly suppressed or focused the still figure laying on the bed, but Sans did manage to spare one or two leftover balls from the ones he was mentally juggling to wondered tiredly how Stretch was holding up. He’d been eating shit sandwiches himself this weekend, and now honey boy was topping it off with big ol’ slice of disaster pie. At least Sans had the luxury of being with his bro from the get-go. Trying to picture how he’d feel knowing only the bare details of what’d happened sent a cold frisson through his soul. That was enough for him to offer sending Edge out in the first ambulance; at least he was with his brother, Edge and Blue were both stuck in limbo all the way home.

Besides, he’d gotten to see plenty of the show on the flight home in the moments when Edge wavered into brief wakefulness. No wonder he never wanted to smoke weed or even drink much. They’d doped him to the gills without mercy, and now Sans was gonna have to live with an eternity of regret that the loss of his phone meant he didn’t get a chance to record Edge massacring a heartfeltly sung rendition of ‘I Want It That Way’.

Since Tori and Blue were no fun at all and refused to do it either, seemed the best option was to send Edge out and hope Stretch got a front row seat to the second act.

That show had been a helluva lot better than the inflight movie Edge’d given them on the way out. Stoic and distant since the second he’d gotten on the plane, a fuckton more so than usual. Wasn’t until Blue snuck in a whisper to Sans what was up that he got it. Anniversary tomorrow, yeah, husband back home while he got stuck playing lead babysitter with Sans as backup ‘cause Red was off saving the world or catching an early bird sale, some bullshit, anyway.

(not thinking about red, better not to, better to not)

Stretch probably pitched a bitchfit about Edge tagging along without him and Sans hadn’t registered to vote in this election, but he was gonna go with Stretch as his candidate. There was no good reason he could think of to make Stretch stay home past paperwork and pissiness, and the fact that Blue thought his Papy staying home was the better choice told him all he needed to about that.

They’d been Aboveground for a few years now and Stretch was nowhere near as bad off as he’d been back when they’d first shown up on the doorstep back in Snowdin. He’d gone the good boy route, got himself a therapist and everything. He was happy, anyone could see that, and HP issues aside, it was ‘bout time to cut the apron strings let Stretch mess up his own cooking.

Edge was better about it than Blue, but looked like he was still trying to play sous chef ‘cause Stretch wasn’t on the plane. Their fearless leader had put up a good front, but any moron could see he was upset, and Sans wasn’t just any idiot on the street. Whatever his reasoning, Edge obviously wasn’t happy about leaving his honey behind.

Welp, Sans had a feeling Edge wasn’t super eager to add Stretch to the roster now. Not after spending some quality time laying on the crumbled tarmac waiting for a stretcher, banged up and bandaged the best they could manage on the fly while the Human side of the contingency ran around squawking out orders, getting everything on lockdown. Trying to keep everything on the down-low until they could get a proper press release in order, yeah, that was the right procedure.

Sans still didn’t have a single qualm about slipping Edge that phone so he could let Stretch know he was okay. ‘Course he’d probably scared him shitless the way he started rambling on like it was his deathbed confession hour instead of just saying ‘alive and kicking’, oops, but eh, couldn’t win ‘em all.

Sans wasn’t winning a lot of ‘em lately.

The stack of blankets were tucked around Papyrus with generous care, but Sans got up and went over to him, anyway, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles in covers. His hands were beneath the blanket, the better to keep them toasty warm. Probably for the best, it was bad enough having to look at his skull, that single ragged crack. If he had to keep looking at his bro’s bruised, battered knuckles, Sans might go nuts.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was his duty to play big bro, his, he’d taken that on years ago while he was still in his own striped shirt, his very first job. He was the one in Security, he was the one who was supposed to fucking protect, and even if Sans thought maybe he’d fucked that up a time or two before, suspected that there was a memory he didn’t possess, a

(reset)

past that wasn’t theirs. But he’d been keeping up their end of the bargain since his bro decided to be an Ambassador and Paps wasn’t supposed to break it, he fucking wasn’t—

The door creaking made Sans jerk, heat rushing to his fingertips in a heady blurt of magic for an attack that stopped forming the moment he saw who it was. He took a long, slow breath, shaking away his exhausted agitation the best he could, cause he was going to need every wit that hadn’t been blown away in the explosion to deal with this.

Red was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. The light pouring in behind him cast him in shadow except for the smoldering glow of his eye lights burning out from his sockets.

Sans only ignored his awful horror movie impression and wandered back to his chair, crawling up to settle on the cushion with a weary sigh.

"you done with skulking around trying not to talk to me?" Sans asked. He didn't mean to sound as pissy as he did, but did Red really think he wouldn't notice? On the plane, outside the ambulance, even here, Red'd been all over, watching but not getting close.

No answer came, no sardonic comeback, no angry snarl. Red stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with disturbing care. Probably only playing at kindness for Papyrus’s sake, but something about his expression was unnerving, the lines of his face laid out in a way that Sans didn’t know.

He came close to the chair without reaching, only stood there, hands visibly fisted in his pockets. Crimson eye lights resting on Sans, but more like Red was looking through, like Sans wasn’t even there and Red’s gaze was laser-focused on the wall behind him.

“came to tell you i’m taking off for a while,” Red said, every word filled with deliberate indifference, “dunno how long.”

Sans only nodded. “yeah. thought you might.”

“wanted to see if you’d keep an eye on that fucking cat of mine.” Again, nothing but cool detachment, Red speaking to the wall and expecting answers.

He made no mention of asking Edge and Sans didn’t either. “sure, why not, i could use a few more scrapes for my collection. maybe i can trip over him on the stairs, add a few broken bones to the tab.”

There, a veritable hit; Red winced visibly, the distance in his gaze wavering. It was almost fascinating, really, watching with his own detached interest as Red tried to force it back. Must be a sign of his own shaken control, all of it unraveling, snapping into its proper place as he actually looked at Sans.

Sans had a pretty good idea what Red was seeing. The force of the explosion had thrown them all to the ground in spite of any shields, leaving behind a nice collection of mottled bruises and bloody scrapes to share around. His own pain had been secondary, unnoticed until they’d been shoved back on the plane for a ride straight back home. He’d been sitting next to Paps when Tori came over, watching the metronome precision of the rise and fall of his rib cage like only the force of his will was keeping his brother breathing.

The cold wetness against his skull had stung and it was only then that he noticed his own hurts. He’d sat there and concentrated on keeping Papyrus breathing, let Tori gently clean him up the best that she could.

So he didn’t have any illusions about what kind of eye candy he was right now. Another note of interest that Red didn’t seem to be able to look away, the minute flicker of his eye lights moving as they traced over those bruises and scrapes.

“i need to go,” Red repeated, but that indifference was wavering, seeping away, leaving behind something that was almost pleading. Huh. How about that. “i gotta. this is my fault. i’ve gotta—"

“listen to the ego on you,” Sans snorted. “even you can't know everything.”

“no, you don't fucking get it.” Shattered desperation, like nothing Red ever showed. Seemed like those walls Red kept up weren’t quite as impervious as Sans always thought; words were spilling out of him, vomited out in pained rush. “i didn't have shit going on here. i didn't come along on this trip because i knew you'd go without me and i…i wanted you away. for a couple days. wanted some time to get my head on straight and i didn’t give a shit who i pissed off to get it, i—"

Yeah, Sans could believe that. Fucked over his own brother and Stretch, and why not? It was only to get out of a Security detail that would’ve left him sharing a hotel room with Sans, left them out in the open in front of everyone. Made them obvious in a way that somehow Red didn’t think they’d been before, fooling no one but himself, but it was a lie Red somehow needed.

Knowing that was a different sort of bruise, on his soul instead of his bones, and every word out of Red was giving it a rough press. It was satisfying in a strange way, to know Red was panicking over him, made him want to feel it again.

"all right,” Sans said calmly.

"no, it ain't all right!" Red snarled, his voice cracking, breaking, breathing too heavily. "if I hadn't've fucked off--"

"then you would've been there instead of edge and it would all have happened the same way." He felt oddly serene, floating in his own peculiar calm. "you're one person. even you can't be everywhere and know everything. ‘sides, if that’s your fault, this is mine.” He flung his hand out like an attack at the hospital room, towards his brother lying unconscious in front of him. “’m getting sloppy, should’ve reacted faster.”

Red twitched, stepping closer, grasping that line of thought with eager gratitude, “reacted to what? how did my brother know? toriel ain’t sure and neither was blue—"

“intent.” Sans shivered, remembering the prickle of it washing over him, virulent hate that came a bare second too late for him to react. The memory of it made him remember something else, a delirious question forgotten in the aftermath, “didn’t think edge could beat me when it came to sensing intent.”

Red waved that off. “he’s been practicing ever since andy got turned into a pincushion outside that chinese place. what else?”

Of course he was, Edge probably spent his lunch hour wandering the streets to see how much hate he could pick up, that was a filling meal. “it was coming from the driver. edge was a lot closer to the car, he must’ve felt it before i did. he yelled for everyone to get down but by then, paps already had me face first on the asphalt.” He shrugged, trying not to think too deeply of the wash of vicious heat, the sound of it, the screams, fuck, all the screams— “after that, it gets a little explody. i can still hear it a little, it’s like listening to a seashell lodged in my head. doc said it might take a day or two for the echo to fade out.”

“that it?” Red’s gaze bore into him.

“that’s all i’ve got,” Sans drawled sourly. He turned in the seat, lounging with deliberate casualness, his legs hanging over the arm. “that’s the shit, the whole shit, and nothing but the shit. so that happened and our bros got hurt, yeah, but they’re gonna be fine. so, now, you wanna take off and go headhunting? you go on ahead. play your little game, start following your clues. just remember after paps wakes up and i can see he’s okay? i’m coming to find you.”

Red had been nodding along and Sans could see the moment realization bled through, the indignant rasp as he snapped out, “the fuck you are!”

“the fuck i’m not,” Sans countered, tauntingly. He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting his own sweat, the bitterness of smoky residue as he goaded, “how are you gonna stop me? ask edge to chase me down while he plays hop along cassidy on some crutches?” Fury was sparking in Red’s eye lights like a firecracker as Sans went on with fractured glee, “he’ll be a coupla weeks recovering, you know. even you harping on him to get up and play protector ain’t gonna change that. gonna tattle on me to asgore, gonna lock me up? tie me to your bed?” Sans tapped a finger against his cheek bone pensively, a mockery of thinking, “or maybe i won’t go after you at all. maybe i’ll see about playing a little on my own.”

Ah, that, that right there. Sans could feel the impotent fury rolling off of Red, about the only time he couldn’t get it up, hands flexing as if he wished there was something in them and for a distant moment, he thought Red might actually attack him and wouldn’t that make for an interesting problem to explain.

Then it was gone, all that anger and frustration swallowed into nothingness. Interesting how Red managed to break without so much as changing expression. Must be a gift.

“you win,” Red said abruptly.

“we playin’ something?” Sans asked lightly,

“only with our lives. ain’t like anything important.” There was a sharp prick of frustrated anger in that, wasn’t all gone, then, only banked. A point Red proved by stalking forward to take Sans’s chin in two sharp fingers, yanked it up. Crimson eye lights searched Sans’s face and he couldn’t begin to wonder what they hoped to find. “you even know what you’re getting into here?”

“i’ve been fucking you for over a year.”

“i ain’t talking about fucking.” Those searing eye lights pierced deeply into him, crawling over the depths of his soul. “do you know?”

Deliberately, Sans lifted his chin more, exposing the bones of his cervical vertebrae. Red’s gaze dropped, lingered over them with hypnotic weight, and his fingers followed, coiling around Sans’s throat like a metaphor.

“if you like it, then you shoulda put a collar on it,” Sans said, soft and singsong. “i’ve been fucking you for over a year, fucking around three times that, you think i don’t know? collar me, claim me. may as well, i ain’t going anywhere, anyways.”

Red shuddered, lurching forward another step and his fingers tightening convulsively, not quite painlessly. “collar you? like you’d be fucking obedient.”

“from what i saw of you wearing one, i always figured the obedience part was an optional add-on. besides, at least i’m housebroken.”

The thin fingers around his throat tightened again, so very close to choking and Sans only shivered, yearning into that grip even as Red whispered with low, virulent intensity, “should’ve known i couldn’t keep dodging you forever.”

Red leaned in, but not for a kiss. His mouth was suddenly hot on Sans’s collarbone, dragging over I, uncaring of the sweat and filth coating him. Sharp teeth nicked tantalizingly against bone and Sans couldn’t hold back a cry, edged with a near sob because he wasn’t supposed to get this, he wasn’t, wasn’t supposed to have this suddenly thrust into his lap like a gift. His magic gave stirring an unfortunate try, but he was thankfully too tired to demo how much his psyche was absolutely going for the sweet threat in that touch.

"i wanna to keep you," Red muttered, mostly to himself, something like desperation curling around every word. Sans answered anyway, mumbling mindlessly.

"okay. okay, yeah."

"wanna keep anyone else from touching you,” whispered against him, a promise, a threat, Sans didn’t know. Red’s tongue was winding around his clavicles, sharp fingertips tearing Sans’s t-shirt, exposing more. “wanna put my collar you, warn the whole world that you're mine."

"yeah," Sans breathed brokenly. His hands move of their own accord, not bothering to ask for permission as they clutch at Red’s shoulders, blunt fingertips digging into the leather of his coat with creaking force.

"That sounds very romantic and potentially disturbing, but may I ask if you could do that in your bedroom and not here in front of me?"

Sans came pretty fucking close to kicking Red to the floor as he jerked up to see his brother’s sockets open, blinking at them owlishly. It wasn’t even a thought to scramble down and go to him; reaching for Papyrus was as automatic as drawing a breath. His brother reached back and if his hands were shaking a little, if there was something tremulous and almost fragile in that touch, Sans didn’t care.

His brother was awake and reaching for him, pulling him up on the bed and into his arms.

“Hush, there’s no need to cry,” Papyrus scolded gently, but he held on to Sans with enough force to get his bruises singing out an Ava Maria. “I’m perfectly all right and even if I’m not, you are, so that’s fine.”

“that is so not fine, paps, it is completely the opposite of fine,” Sans wiped away embarrassing flood of tears, sniveling humiliatingly into his sleeve even as Papyrus flailed and tried to reach for the box of Kleenex on the bedside table. “me and red are the ones working in the security department, we—”

He turned back to the chair, trailing off when he found it empty.

Well, shit.

“know something, bro?” Sans sighed out, even as he settled into his brother’s arms. “that whole vanishing thing is fucking annoying when i’m not the one doing it.”

Papyrus smoothed a hand down his spine, more gentle than not, and if he had an inkling of what he just interrupted, he was kind enough not to ask. “Never fear, brother, you are always fucking annoying whether you’re trying or not.”

Probably true. Hearing his brother swear was always enough to give his soul a seizure, even if he knew Papyrus only did it to get a rise out of him. He needed to go find one of the docs, let him know Paps was awake and there were probably tests that needed to be run, x-rays maybe, who the fuck knew.

It could wait a minute. Right now, the only place his soul wanted to be was right here.

But later, he thought maybe he had some dice to roll. Some asshole in a stupid hat once said the game was afoot and now that he knew there was a chance?

Sans was playing to win.

-finis-

#kustard #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[purplesurveys]

648

Do you like apple soda? I’ve never had it, but because it’s a kind of soda I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t like it anyway. Are there any writing utensils close to you? Can I just say first of all that I’ve never heard pens be called utensils hahaha. But yeah, I do have my pencil case nearby. Are you registered to vote? Yes, of course. Do you watch football regularly? I watch football never, because I’ve never understood the rules of both football and American football. Look up, what do you see? Just darkness.

Do you have a bigger upper or lower lip? My lower lip is thicker. Are you currently doing any big projects? My undergraduate thesis, for one. When was the last time you really laughed out loud when you typed 'lol'? Ooh I’m not so sure. I use ‘lol’ if I’m saying something serious but I don’t want to come off as serious – basically, to soften the blow, like “I’m so disappointed in her lol.” When I do genuinely find something funny, I type haha in all caps. Do you have any screen names with spelling errors? Nope. Open the nearest drawer and tell me what's inside it: Clothes for the house. What was the last thing that shocked you? I found out some s c a l d i n g tea about one of my former teachers in grade school that I happened to hate the most. Turns out he’s a cheater, a thief, a freeloader, and exactly the piece of shit I expected him to be 10 years ago. How many other rooms can you currently see into? None. It’s very dark in my room. Do you need to take the trash out? No. It isn’t my chore either, so. Do you need to clean your room right now? Some stuff needs to be put back in their proper place, but my room is generally tidy. Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? No. Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? Thankfully, no. How about dishes? Already did ‘em early on. How many days have you been wearing those clothes? That I have on? 45 minutes.

Do you like listening to 60's music? Nah. I only like a handful of 60s music, and ALL of them are from Audrey Hepburn movies. I don’t think there’s much that I like about that decade other than her. Can you move your nose? I can flare my nostrils but that’s it. Can you flip your eyelids inside out? No. But kids used to do that alllllll the time and I always found it disgusting. Can you wiggle your ears? Nope but I’ve been trying for like 16 years now. My uncle knows how to do it and it was his favorite trick to do to get us all riled up as kids. Can you make a clover with your tongue? I cannot. Can you put your foot behind your head? Sure. When was your last break-up? 2015. Would you rather not be reminded of that? It’s okay. I’m sentimental about that kind of stuff. What one thing never fails to amuse you? My dog whenever he feels like being silly and does silly positions. Kimi’s been my #1 source of entertainment for 12 years now, haha. How many songs have you downloaded this week? I haven’t downloaded songs in like, seven years. Would you rather be a ninja or a samurai? Samurai, because they’re historically legitimately not to be fucked around with. Would you rather be a pirate or robot? Robot. I’d be infinitely smarter then. Would you rather be a ghost or a zombie? 2013 me would say zombie to reach my dreams of being part of The Walking Dead, but now I think I’d enjoy being a ghost more. Have you ever considered living in a bomb shelter? Not really. How lonely are you right now? I’m not at all. I just got back from a nice dinner with my girlfriend, so I’m liking my alone time now. If I gave you a piano and told you hit middle c, could you? NOPE. Have you ever typed out a long rant, then your computer died? Not this exactly but a similar sensation is that I’ve been more than halfway through a survey when I accidentally reloaded the page and lost the entire survey, for one.

#survey #surveys

[sunriseskog]

That Don’t Sound Like You- Auston Matthews

Request: “Can you write an AM imagine based on that don’t sound like you by lee brice?”

Warnings: angst & cursing

A/N: i vote that we all just ignore the fact that the last time I posted was like 6 months ago uwu i also vote that we ignore the fact that this sucks

There is nothing about dialing a phone that makes it inherently difficult— it’s arguably one of the simplest, most mundane tasks one can complete. But sometimes those buttons become a little harder to push, each dial seems to require a little bit more force, a little bit more resolution behind the action so your fingers can be sure your brain knows what it’s getting itself into. This was one of those phone calls.

It had been almost 10 months since the last time you and Auston had spoken, and neither of you had anticipated ever speaking to one another again, at least not in this lifetime. But it was his birthday. It was also your birthday. Which was precisely what prompted the predicament you currently found yourself in. For as long as you could remember, you and Auston had celebrated your shared birthdays with each other. Through bedtimes and curfews, timezones and years, the two of you had never failed to be the first to wish each other a happy birthday, exactly as the clock struck 12. This time last year all you had had to do was roll over in your bed to be able to partake in the tradition. Today? Things couldn’t be more different.

There had been years when you had begged your mother to phone Ema, just to find out if Auston was home before you rode your bike all the way over to his house. There had been years when you had snuck your phone upstairs well-past your bedtime, just to fall asleep 10 minutes after he picked up the phone. Now every time you picked up your phone you wished you had never memorized his number in the first place. The irony of the situation was anything but lost on you.

For all you knew, Auston could be celebrating the occasion with someone far more qualified to comfort him tonight than you were. He could be high out of his mind or plastered beyond belief. He could be sleeping soundly or watching movies with his family. Or… or he could be thinking about you just as much as you were thinking about him. You didn’t think you wanted to know the answer.

Except, it didn’t seem you were given a choice. Your thumb felt have as you moved to connect the call, but before you had the chance, an all too familiar contact picture consumed your screen, disappearing before your brain had a chance to register that the vibration had even begun. Well, that answered one question at least. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he was thinking about you too.

You still had about 45 seconds until midnight, so there was the possibility that he merely hung up because he had called too early. But there was also a much more realistic possibility that he was overthinking this almost as much as you were, which meant the both of you were going to spend the next 45 seconds in absolute agony over who would have the balls to call first. You could always cut him a break, despite the fact that he had hung up almost immediately, he did still technically call first. You decided that being early just this one year wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and pushed the green button towards the bottom of your screen. You couldn’t help but think that this might be the last time the two of you shared this moment together.

Any semblance of confidence that you had possessed before placing the call was immediately eradicated the moment you heard the line connect. Nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming experience of hearing his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned, his voice rough and lower than you remembered. The weight behind his question, the hopeful but disbelieving lilt in his tone robbed you of any hope you had of forming a coherent response, your breath having been punched out of your chest as soon as you had heard his voice again. You heard his breath hitch through the receiver as soon as you moved to speak.

“…hey” you breathed lightly, barely loud enough for even your own ears to register.

A few deafeningly silent moments passed before you realized that he wasn’t going to respond any time soon.

“Umm,” you hesitated, unsure of where to lead the conversation, but already feeling desperate not to let it end. “Happy birthday, Auston,” you spoke quietly, moisture gathering around the edge of your mouth as you spoke, a thick sob settling quietly in the back of your throat. Somehow, you managed to keep your voice from wavering, despite the history and emotion weighing heavily on every word that you spoke. You could hear the air rush past the receiver as he inhaled quickly, and the hair on the back of your neck bristled in preparation of hearing his voice again.

“What did he do,” he demanded sharply, the aggression in his tone catching you entirely off guard.

“Excuse me?” You demanded with an offended quirk of your brow, not quite sure whether to take what he was saying personally or not.

“N-no,” he stuttered quickly, “That’s… that’s not what I meant. I just,” he huffed out an ironic laugh, and you could almost see the way you knew he was rolling his eyes at himself, his left hand perched on the brow of his nose in frustration. “This is not how I intended for this to go,” he lamented lamely, “I just meant that like…” he hesitated. Wherever this conversation was going, you could already tell it was going to be a minefield of trying not to offend one another while desperately avoiding anything that would remind the two of you of what had occurred all those months ago. You heard him sigh deeply as he prepared to explain himself.

“I just meant…” he trailed off again, and you were quickly becoming increasingly frustrated with how long it was taking this boy to spit out a single sentence.

“Spit it out, Auston,” you sighed, “You’re not going to offend me, and it’s not like we have a relationship to jeopardize in the first place,” you spoke reservedly, trying to keep your voice as non-abrasive as possible.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He exclaimed seeming to be ignited by what you had said. “That’s- That not how you fucking talk, (Y/N)! Whatever the fuck you’re saying that’s- that’s not you,” he rambled. “You’re way too fucking quiet and you’re not cussing or screaming at me or going off on me for calling you on your birthday and you’re not talking about what happened and you’re talking to me. today. Right now. You are talking to me. Which means he must have done something,” he finished, having run out of breath from how quickly and loudly he was speaking.

“Auston…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like he was wrong, the rebound— Luke— that you had met during a drunken tinder binge after you and Auston had split, had quickly turned into a hell of a lot more than you intended, and you had been in such a vulnerable emotional state that by the time you were cognizant enough to realize what was happening around you, it was too late to go back. Somehow what you had intended to be a one-night stand had turned into him staying the night, asking you to make breakfast, and then proceeding to continue to invite himself over until you weren’t even clear as to whether he was your boyfriend or not. After a few misinterpreted social media interactions, everyone else— including Luke— seemed to decide the two of you were dating, without anyone seeming to consider asking you.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?” He demanded, cutting off the half-formed response you had begun to stutter out in response to his previous line of questioning.

“Why are you?” You rebutted, matching his aggressive tone. As far as you were concerned, you were under no obligation to answer his questions, especially if he was going to continue acting like a complete ass when all you had wanted to do was have his voice be the first you heard on your birthday, especially if this was going to be the last time. You couldn’t help but notice that he still hadn’t said it back.

“You know why,” he stated simply, as if somehow you knew exactly what was happening inside of his brain despite the fact that it had been damn near a year since the two of you had spoken.

“Enlighten me,” you quipped sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, wishing for this conversation to end by desperate for him not to stop talking.

“I missed you.” You felt your heart drop inside of your chest. He stated those words so easily, as if it wouldn’t take every ounce of pride that you had managed to preserve over the past few months to reciprocate the statement.

“I answered your question,” he continued. “Now you answer mine.”

“Which one?” You cleared your throat, his confession still ricocheting around your mind, seeming to consume your being entirely.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?”

You took a deep breath before beginning, there was no point in lying, the only options on the table were that eventually he would find out the truth or this would be the final conversation you would have with him, and you didn’t want the last thing you said to him to have been a lie. It wasn’t worth it, you had nothing to lose.

“If I couldn’t talk to you, I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” you stated simply. The two of you knew this was as close to a confession as your pride would let you get, regardless of the circumstances.

“Wh-what about Luke?” He questioned hesitantly, the hopeful lilt from the first time he spoke returning at last.

“Especially not Luke,” you asserted, resisted the urge to groan at the mere mention of the omnipresent nuisance in your life. “That… that wasn’t what everyone thought it was, and whatever it actually was is over now… not that it matters.”

“oh…” he spoke quietly, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“…yeah,” you winced, visibly cringing at how the conversation had become so painfully awkward so quickly.

“That wasn’t my only question,” he began quickly, his voice seeming to allude to the fact that he wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I know.”

“Maybe,” he started apprehensively. “Maybe you could answer it over coffee sometime?” He inquired hopefully. You could practically feel him holding his breath. You choked on the breath you had been exhaling, your shoulders stiffening on their own accord.

“You- you don’t have to you know…” he trailed off. “You don’t have to answer the question, or even meet me for that matter. Just… just if you want to y’know.”

“Hows tomorrow sound?” You cut him off, mercifully putting an end to whatever else he was going to nervously ramble on about until you gave an answer. The breath of relief he let out sounded more like a laugh, and words couldn’t express how good it felt to be smiling with him again. There was every possibility that this was the first genuine smile you had let out since the last time the two of you had spoken.

“I couldn’t think of a better time if I tried,” he smirked, his cockiness exuding through the speaker despite the vulnerability of the previous moment.

“I’ll see you then,” you quipped, a similar confidence seeping into your tone.

As you moved to hang up, you heard him begin to speak again.

“(Y/N)?” He rushed quickly.

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused.

“Happy Birthday.”

A/N: it has been so so very long since i’ve posted so please let me know what you think!!! & thanks for sticking around through my semi-hiatus lmao

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #nhl imagine #Toronto Maple Leafs #imagine #angst #angst imagine #hockey imagine

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen: Timeline and Other Little Details

This is me trying to work out the timeline of Sword and Pen. Spoilers follow.

This is currently a raw mess of notes, but I figured I’d go ahead and post it here. I’m going to try to clean it up before adding it to the AO3 timeline.

Timeline:

Either Pre-Book or Unknown:

Dario managed to read Santi’s journal back in Ink and Bone, and I still want to know how the fuck he did that. He says he read it while Santi was asleep, but I am not buying that. No way Santi’s house is that easy to break into, and I doubt Dario could sneak around in there without waking Wolfe or Santi (Dario is not good at breaking and entering). Maybe after Oxford, when they were in tents? But he didn’t need to look for blackmail material by then: the class was already down to 6. My vote is on Santi occasionally taking his journal to the barracks or something like that. Maybe Dario might have been able to get into Santi’s house while he and Wolfe were out?

At some point, Dario acquired a new Codex, registered it to a false name, and used it for some book requests and massages. Unclear when. Could be in the time he’s unaccounted for between the negotiations on day 1 and meeting Santi on day 2. Could be something he did back in Ink and Bone or Paper and Fire. Cesar Mondragon asks Dario about the Codex and says he “wanted to be certain you remembered” it, which makes it sound like he’s been told at some point what to do if he needs to work with the Spanish spies.

At some point, Dario got a gold band. He had silver at the end of Ink and Bone - has the color been mentioned since? If not, possible promotion between Ink and Bone and Paper and Fire? If it has been, maybe a quick promotion during the time he’s unaccounted for between days 1 and 2?

Eskander gave Santi an anonymous Codex sometime before Dario’s spy mission.

Thomas got the second dragon working sometime before he was kidnapped. That’s anywhere from day 0 to partway through day 2.

Day 0 (the day of the battle at the end of Smoke and Iron):

The action begins the day after Smoke and Iron ends.

First ephemera is a letter from Wolfe to the Brightwells. Written while Jess was asleep, I’m guessing?

Also happening while Jess was asleep: some Obscurist healed everyone’s wounds from the battle. Morgan? With or without help? Jess is sore but in good enough shape to fight. Dario shows no signs of injury either. Thomas’s leg is fine.

Thomas must have recharged the Ray of Apollo after the battle, and given it to Wolfe. He also got a Ray of Apollo installed on the Lighthouse overnight. Making Rays of Apollo is what Thomas does at night instead of sleeping.

Morgan journal entry date isn’t specified. Morning of day 1?

Day 1 (chapters 1-5):

Jess wakes up early the morning after the battle. The moon is out. Jess has been asleep since the battle at the end of Smoke and Iron finished up.

It’s sunrise when Jess, Wolfe, and Dario go to the Archivist’s office.

Still morning when they hand the harbor defense plans over to Santi, to be passed along to Thomas.

After meeting with Santi, Jess and Glain go to the Medica for an hour, and from there to the High Garda compound. Dario goes to meet the ambassadors. Santi goes to the throne room for his promotion. Wolfe goes to some unspecified place, presumably working on the hunt for the ex-Archivist. Santi, Dario, and Wolfe might do other unspecified things before they show up again.

Murasaki is elected Archivist, Santi appointed Lord Commander. Khalila thinks “she had a very, very long day ahead,” so this has to be relatively early, but it also has to be after Jess and Wolfe gave Santi the harbor plans. Mid-morning?

Dario arrives late, after the Scholars take their oaths. Political negotiations happen.

Khalila takes the ambassadors to the conference room and arranges for them to get food. Could just be a hospitality thing, but maybe that means it’s lunchtime?

No clues on time of day while Jess is at the bar looking for Anit, meeting with Anit in the temple, or when they go to Anit’s house and Glain is shot.

Anit offers Jess food. Again, maybe hospitality, but maybe a clue that it’s time for either lunch or dinner?

It isn’t dark yet when Wolfe and Jess talk, since Wolfe tells Jess they will wait until dusk before leaving.

Time unclear when Jess talks to Anit and flirts with Katja.

Morgan and Thomas are working on deciphering harbor defense plans: are they exhausted because it’s late or because they are both disasters who haven’t been sleeping for the past two days? Who knows. Before they could start, Morgan and other Obscurists had to remove poison from the papers. How long did that take? How long have Morgan and Thomas been working? Unclear.

Morgan finds the ring, puts it on. Gets her power un-corrupted again. Goes and eats, then falls asleep in the garden and has strange dreams.

Nothing about what Khalila, Santi, and Dario are doing after Khalila’s chapter. Santi is presumably doing Lord Commander things. Khalila working with Murasaki. Dario??? What is Dario doing???

After he leaves Jess, Wolfe is probably with Glain?

Ephemera show the ex-Archivist trying to recruit allies, conspire with Burners.

Day 2 (chapters 5-20):

Morgan wakes from ring-induced dreams just after midnight, feeling rested. She has just enough time to get changed before Wolfe comes to get her to help Glain. This is the last time we see Annis alive.

Morgan heals Glain, corrupts herself again, tries to drain Wolfe. Encounters Jess in the garden, and they break up.

Jess tries to sleep after walking away from Morgan, but can’t, so he gets up, sometime before dawn, to play dice with Anit’s men.

Jess checks on Wolfe and Glain at sunrise. Wolfe has apparently been coordinating with Anit to collect reports on ex-Archivist sightings, and he’s gotten enough data to figure out that something is going on at the Greek fire facility.

We have a timeline glitch here: Morgan has left Anit’s by sunrise, when Jess meets with Wolfe and Glain. But it has to be later in the morning when Khalila writes to Wolfe while searching for Morgan, and he tells her that Morgan left Anit’s an hour ago. (Wolfe’s lost track of time?)

Khalila wakes before dawn. (She didn’t want to go back to the Iron Tower - editing glitch, or was she rooming there for some reason instead of using her old Lighthouse room? Where she slept the night after the battle isn’t specified.) She may be sleeping, but she’s skipping showers and wearing days-old clothes.

After dawn prayers, Khalila brings the ambassadors to Murasaki, war is declared.

Khalila goes looking for Thomas, which seems to take a while: she searches both the Lighthouse and the Iron Tower. She finds him at the docks, and Morgan promptly finds them. 

It is noon when Morgan and Thomas are ready to raise the defenses. Khalila has just enough time for prayers before Morgan starts draining her.

Jess’s group takes a little over an hour to travel through the tunnels. Unclear when they left Anit’s house. Battle happens shortly after they get to the Necropolis.

Santi has been busy: his first coffee break is at around noon. He has his battle plans ready to go when the ships start their attack. 

Before the attack starts, Santi sends for Dario.  Santi knew about the Greek fire facility earlier in the day - both Wolfe and Eskander tipped him off - but he isn’t ready to commit to a plan to deal with that until after the battle plans are put into motion.

Bombardment starts, Santi orders Lighthouse to fire the Ray, warning shot fired, attack stops.

Dario is located and brought in. No word on where he’s been or what he’s been doing. Santi and Dario presumably go over Dario’s code here.

After meeting with Dario, Santi meets with Murasaki. We learn that Callum Brightwell is demanding to be allowed into Alexandria to have a funeral for Brendan.

Santi plans a meeting with the new Artifex about the Lighthouse Ray, gives more defense orders, checks in with Wolfe.

After meeting with Santi, Dario goes back to the Lighthouse. He is in his room long enough to shower, eat, change, and write messages to Alvaro.

Timeline glitch: Dario thinks about the sword “he’d damaged this morning.” No possible way this is happening on day 1. Dario hasn’t slept and is thinking of this all as the same day? Meh. 

Sun is still shining when he leaves to meet the spies. A quick bit of talking and they go to the Greek fire facility. Battle happens quickly once there. 

Unclear how long it takes to finish securing the facility after the Spanish leave. Dario goes out drinking afterward.

Thomas and the new Artifex Magnus work on the Lighthouse Ray. Right after the ray was fired to stop the bombardment, probably? Thomas heads for the workshop and is kidnapped by the ex-Archivist’s agents.

Travel time to ex-Archivist’s base unclear. Ex-Archivist threatens Thomas into working with him to open the Tomb of Heron.

Unknown travel time to the Tomb of Heron. Once there, he is given a breathing mask that will last two hours. (Two hours of use or two hours total whether it’s used or not?) Thomas goes through the tomb, solving puzzles, and reaches the final test, in which he is poisoned. He’s in there long enough that the ex-Archivist assumes he’s dead.

Thomas’s mask has run out of alchemy by time he gets to the poison gas, so more than 2 hours total in the tomb. Thomas solves the last puzzles and mixes the antidote.

Thomas leaves the tomb to find lots of dead soldiers, signs of battle, and Zara dying. She tells him the Archivist plans to destroy the Archives.

After returning to the Iron Tower, Morgan worked on researching the Poseidon automaton for an unspecified amount of time before going looking for Annis.

Searching for Annis possibly takes a while: she’s in the 12th place Morgan looks. Morgan finds Annis dead, fights traitors, investigates, goes for help. Eskander is injured in the fight.

Morgan takes over the automaton investigation. This seems to take a long time, requiring a break to eat and rest eyes.

Morgan’s work is interrupted by an attempted suicide bombing, which she stops. After the attack, Morgan’s assistants have identified the traitors’ ringleader and their next goal: finding the Tomb of Heron.

After drinking, Dario goes to see Khalila. It’s evening: she offers food and is considering her own sleeping arrangements. Dario falls asleep after some kissing and talking.

Khalila goes to see Murasaki. They attempt diplomacy and plan a Curia meeting. The storm that Dario saw brewing at the start of his spy mission is now almost to the harbor.

The fleet attacks Poseidon when Khalila and Murasaki are setting up for the meeting. Poseidon attacks the fleet. Many ships are destroyed before Poseidon breaks. Ships are finally scared off by another Lighthouse Ray shot. Eskander has already been injured when the battle happens: he can’t help with Poseidon.

The battle ends at sunset, and the storm arrives. Immediately after the battle, Murasaki is assassinated. Khalila and Dario kill the assassins.

Meanwhile, in the Necropolis, the battle takes hours, according to Wolfe. (It sounded faster in Jess’s POV. One or the other has a distorted sense of time?) The New Library-Smuggler team has won, killing most of the enemy forces. Presumably searching for the ex-Archivist has also happened. Jess collapses. Dario’s spy mission has already happened: Santi sends a report on it. Wolfe and Glain discuss strategy, Santi sends a message asking them to come back to the Serapeum (why? The assassination already? Or some other development like the Iron Tower attack or the harbor attack?)

Anit and the smugglers get ready to leave, then sphinx attacks Glain. This must be happening simultaneously with the end of Thomas’s chapter.

Wolfe, Jess, and Glain get halfway through the Necropolis before the sphinx comes back. (How long does that take?) A bit of grappling, then Wolfe leads it to the Minotaur to make them fight. Wolfe walks back to Jess and Glain; guessing this all takes some time?

Unspecified how long it takes to get back to the surface. It’s storming when Wolfe’s group leaves the Necropolis. Poseidon is down and the fleet is gone, assassination must have happened already, too. More travel time on the way back to the Serapeum. Even more time for getting through the Serapeum, taking Jess and Glain to the Medica.

Jess writes his “Go to hell, Da” letter while at the Medica.

Must be pretty late by the time Wolfe is appointed Archivist and immediately passes the job on to Khalila. Morgan Translates in, so this must be after her chapter finishes. Is Morgan bluffing when she says Eskander approves, or does Eskander have some way of listening in on the Curia meeting? Vargas says Khalila is Archivist “for tonight”, so it’s still the same day, not midnight yet. Dario is already gone by the time Wolfe gets there, and Santi has arrived.

Morgan suggests copying the Archives, Khalila approves. Wolfe suspects copying has already started. It will take at least a day. Morgan Translates back out.

Wolfe leaves the meeting to go look for the ex-Archivist and/or Thomas.

Glain and Jess are with the Medica long enough that Wolfe comes to join them. (He’s not having any luck with his investigations? Or working while there?) Glain leaves to join the battle at the gates, travel time unknown. Santi must leave at around the same time.

The Russians attack with missiles and tanks, Santi counterattacks with the dragon, sphinxes, lions, and Greek fire. It’s a long battle, or at least Glain expects it to be.

Glain stops a sphinx attack and a sniper sent by the ex-Archivist, and her squad is sent to deal with traitors attacking from behind. She splits off from them to follow a lion. When she can’t catch it, she sends messages to the others. Dario says he’s on his way from the Serapeum.

Wolfe and Jess must have left at around the same time as Dario, maybe a little before. They catch up with Glain, then Morgan Translates in to stop the lion. Dario shows up in time for the scheming.

Unknown travel time to the ancient Serapeum. They set up the trap, ex-Archivist’s forces arrive, Wolfe pack wins and learns the ex-Archivist is on his way to kill Khalila.

Dario leaves first. The rest of the pack considers plans and Translates in. It has been long enough since Khalila’s promotion that Wolfe is worried she might have moved into the ex-Archivist’s office. Glain sends her squad to warn Santi.

When Wolfe checks the time after Translating into the ex-Archivist’s office, he thinks Khalila might be at prayers. This would be the nighttime prayer, I’m guessing? So around 8:00?

Wolfe, Morgan, and Glain go looking for Khalila and/or Dario. Travel time between the old Serapeum and here must be short enough that they expect Dario to be there already even though they Translated in.

Jess spots blood, tracks it to the ex-Archivist, who is dying in a secret room full of books. He says Zara shot him.

Dario is the first one to Khalila, and he gets to the conference room in time to warn her of the assassination attempt. Either one of the Codex messages Wolfe sent was a warning to Santi, or Glain’s troops got to Santi fast, because Santi already knows about the assassination risk and has assigned extra guards. Sphinx attacks, Dario stops it.

After the attack, Curia leaves, Wolfe, Glain, and Morgan join Khalila and Dario. They get a message from Thomas that the ex-Archivist plans to destroy the Archives. Khalila sends a message to Santi requesting troops, and learns from him that the battle is wrapping up and the Russians are retreating. It’s still the same night. Khalila thinks of herself as Archivist “if only for this one night.”

After the ex-Archivist dies, it takes a while for Jess to find his way back to the rest of the pack. Santi finds him first, then the others. Santi explains Nobel’s Greek fire device, Morgan tries and fails to make Khalila’s promotion official in the records. The pack Translates to the Archives.

In the Archives, Morgan Translates Thomas in, then the pack splits up to turn off the device. Thomas and Jess shut theirs off, Thomas passes Jess the antidote and runs to warn the others about false switches.

Jess passes out before drinking the antidote. Wakes up to Khalila trying to rescue him. He finds out Morgan and Khalila messed up their shut off and triggered the fire. Morgan dies to save the books. Jess passes out again.

Ephemera show ex-Archivist conspiring with Obscurist traitor to fuck with automata, trying to get help from Callum Brightwell, finding Heron’s Tomb, colluding with the Russians, attempting to work with the English, Welsh, and Spanish, hoping to sneak out past the battle at the gate.

Day ??? (”days” after Jess passes out in the Archives)

Jess wakes up to Thomas feeding him more antidote. Thomas has been brewing more based on the sample from the tomb. Anit is there with them. 

Khalila comes to see Jess. She says he’s expected to need a few weeks to fully recover. They talk about Morgan and Brendan. Khalila declares Jess her brother. She also tells Jess that Thomas has created a new Curia position to be in charge of printing and offered him a job. The Burners and foreign armies are ready to negotiate new treaties.

Day ???+1

Jess wakes before dawn for food and a bath. He is up and walking when his parents arrive. They discuss burial plans for Brendan. Callum tries to force Jess to sign the release form. Celia, Jess, and Wolfe all tell Callum to leave. Jess declares himself Wolfe’s son.

Unspecified time after that:

Jess goes to see Brendan’s body. The rest of the pack joins him. There are hugs and declarations of affection. Khalila has been officially confirmed as Archivist. Thomas has given Jess the job of Chief Printer in the new Liberius department. Santi tells Jess he’s free from his High Garda contract and calls Jess his son.

Anit meets Jess when he’s on his way out. Katja is with her. They negotiate ownership of a bookshop.

Jess signs the release form to let his parents have Brendan’s body.

Unspecified time after that:

Wolfe visits Eskander in the Iron Tower because he feels Morgan’s presence. He puts on the ring and talks to Morgan. He refuses to ask about his future and turns down her offer to unlock his latent Obscurist talent, and learns she is watching over the Library.

Wolfe gives the ring back to Eskander, and Eskander invites him in for tea and scheming. Wolfe agrees.

Pre-canon timeline:

As of 6 years ago, Wolfe and the old Archivist were still on good enough terms for Wolfe to have the opportunity to hear the Archivist’s desk password. That’s about 3 years before Rome. That means that either something went wrong between Wolfe and the Archivist in those 3 years, or it was an unexpected betrayal when the Archivist sent him to Rome. Wolfe having spied on the Archivist’s password suggests that he didn’t fully trust him, even then. Some suspicions, maybe?

And now for some fun little details!

Handwriting:

Wolfe has good handwriting: “neat, precise calligraphy.”

Santi has bad handwriting. It is illegible when he’s stressed. I’s too messy to use Dario’s code successfully.

Dario has very good handwriting, and can vary the height and embellishment of letters enough to use his writing as code.

The ex-Archivist has unique handwriting.

Since we all like hair:

Jess’s hair “was a spiky mess” when he woke up in chapter 1

We have some curls! Not for Dario, though, for Wolfe: “his curling, graying hair.”

Curls for Eskander, too! “long, curling gray hair.” 

And curls for Annis.

Only “wavy black hair” for Dario. Not quite curls.

Languages:

Jess feels uncomfortable with Greek compared to Wolfe, who is a native speaker.

The High Garda compound has signs in hieroglyphs and Greek.

Thomas knows ancient Greek engineering shorthand. Morgan isn’t so confident in her ancient Greek.

Khalila knows German.

Annis knows Assyrian. There is a book in Assyrian that details how much damage Heron’s Poseidon automaton can take before breaking.

Wolfe’s specializations:

More evidence that it isn’t engineering: he has “neither time nor patience” for listening to Thomas lecture about Heron’s inventions.

But Wolfe does know the Serapeum’s design very well. Points toward architecture.

He’s taken charge of the search for the ex-Archivist. Points toward forensic science.

And then there’s a lot of talk of risks and odds of success in Wolfe’s POV. And this line: “It was the gamble of it he loved, more than anything else.” Sounds like probability or game theory there.

High Garda stuff:

High Garda battle uniforms include: protective vest, underwear, jacket, trousers, socks, boots, weapons belt. Standard issue weapons include a rifle, handgun, and knife. And extra “charges” for the gun (which?). WTF are these guns seriously. They can switch between lethal and stun. They have charges. They also fire bullets and smell like gunpower. I officially fucking give up on understanding these guns. They are clearly plot-powered weapons.

The High Garda compound is on a hill overlooking the harbor. From the gates, there is a good view of the Lighthouse, the Serapeum, and the Iron Tower. I continue to be unable to draw a proper mental map of this city.

Scholars and High Garda apparently don’t visit the docks much. In particular, the High Garda leave the “bars, taverns, and brothels” alone. All of those services must already be available in the Hive. (Also, hey, look, legal sex work is canon!)

Regular uniforms might have armored vests, but armored jackets are available. Santi insists that Wolfe wear one. Khalila has one too.

Tea!

Khalila is a very good assistant who makes sure Murasaki has tea.

Morgan drinks “bitter, cooling tea” while working late at night. Tea is definitely her caffeine source of choice. Also, headcanon that she drinks her tea unsweetened totally confirmed, and she probably just left the ball/bag in that mug and forgot about it.

Headcanon confirmed: Santi is not a tea person.

Other stuff:

There are Medica potions to keep people awake. Energy drinks?

Morgan definitely had her Obscurist power all her life, and hid it up until she was 16. Was she that confident in her ability to hide that she applied for the Postulant program anyway? Or did she hack her way in after getting caught?

Troll is very concerned about having his journal read. What is Troll writing about? (Also, Santi is a lying ass: in Ink and Bone he didn’t seem to know the journals were being read until Wolfe told him, here he tells Troll he’s been making his boring for “many, many years”.)

Dario has a “favorite shop for little cakes” and a “cafe where he drank morning coffee.” Both damaged in the bombardment.

Dario has a fancy jeweled Codex that he grew up with. So he found the one from his dad that was stolen? Or is this the one he had before that?

Thomas keeps lots of stuff in his pockets. Contents confiscated when he is searched include pencils, birdseed, and half-eaten snacks.

There are several of the spy mirrors: one for the Archivist, the Artifex, the Obscurist, and the Lord Commander. Kind of assuming no one told the new administration how they work.

The ex-Archivist wants Santi alive. Why? Are we adding him to the list of people who really want to get into Nic’s pants or what? He wants Wolfe dead more than anyone else.

Jess is “barely eighteen.”

Both Glain and Morgan found and read about the poison gas in the Black Archives. Neither, apparently, considered that book a good one to smuggle out.

#The Great Library #sword and pen #sword and pen spoilers #sword and pen timeline