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raevenlywrites · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind 10 of ???

The ruins were exactly as advertised. Ancient remains of stone and tile work sat in overgrown disarray, the only thing holding parts of it together were the living roots clinging to the ancient bones. It felt haunted, in a way that battlefield did not. The fields were about death, and nothing more. This was once a place of life, and it’s current lack was only underscored by the verdant growth that had moved in to take the old inhabitants’ place.

“I thought you said nothing grew here,” I muttered to Karashan to cover my unease.

The general shrugged. “Nothing arable.”

Raymond snorted and began scouting around sorting through foliage in one way or another, following some reason I couldn’t decern. I decided to follow him, at a loss for what else to do. And it kept Rei from hovering, as I had a guard. I had a feeling I was going to spending a lot of time with Raymond and Karashan. I was absolutely avoiding my would-be pairbond. I did not want to have this conversation.

”What are you looking for?”

“Forest fruits,” Raymond answered absently, elbow deep in a tangle of briars. “Just because a land can’t be farmed doesn’t mean it can’t provide.”

I watched with genuine interest, helping carry his harvest and trying to remember his points as he spoke. He pulled berries out of thickets, apples off of branches I’d have passed over, and marked the passage of game animals. Raymond made a good teacher; I remembered it was trait he shared with his cousin. It was bittersweet, working with him, but I did my best to focus on the sweet. It wasn’t too hard; the work was interesting and fulfilling. I’d only seen our farmland from above, never walked down among the rows, let alone helped in the harvesting. These weren’t the tidy rows of our grain fields, but it was still closer than I’d ever been to my own food.

“And the water?” I asked, as we returned to the central clearing and its ominous covered well.

“Unpredictable,” he said shortly. “I think something happens further upstream and contaminates it.”

I blinked. “So its not a proper well, then, dug straight down?”

He shook his head, gesturing back behind us towards the mountains and Hawk’s Keep.

“Everything runs down from the mountain. Sooner or later, what happens up there trickles down to everyone else.”

I frowned at his word choice, knowing he was talking about more than just the water.

Raymond was unlike any of the other soldiers I’d ever met. All the Flight was friendly with me--we all spent too much of our time together for us not to be--but only Rei crossed that line into true familiarity. Raymond, I guessed, had probably known me as a child, or at least of me. I wished I could remember more of Vasili’s family. They’d almost all been soldiers, I thought, or maybe just the one’s I’d know had been soldiers. Maybe he had family out in the fields like Elanor did.

I was about to ask him when Andreios alighted before us, jarred the switch from raven to man. It could be an elegant and leisurely process. But Rei had switched back almost before he’d properly landed.

“They’re coming.”

His tone was so sour there was no doubt who he meant. And sure enough, Zane and Adelina crested a small ridge, Zane waving merrilly as he caught sight of us.

He’s so odd, I thought, watching him flow down from the rise. Everyone around him is singing with tension, and he’s waving like we’re old friends. I wondered if that was just his nature, happy and enthusiastic, or if he was doing it to piss off Rei. Or maybe Adelina. Or maybe it was all three, or something I hadn’t considered at all. He was a mystery to me, but a puzzle I was keen to suss out. I liked this kind of wondering and second guessing. It was like a game of chess. I had a feeling Zane would be good at chess, and the gambling games of cards and coins that passed the soldiers’ time in the barracks. Anything that called for a strategy, and the ability to think on the fly, and play to your opponent’s expectations.

Like war.

I tried not to frown at him as he approached, but that last thought had soured my mood. I wondered who’d be to each other if we’d grown up only neighboring monarchs. Perhaps we’d have been promised to each other as children, a way to solidify good relations between our peoples. It was such an absurd thought it almost made me laugh. At least it helped me smile when Zane and Adelina were near enough to see it. I was glad to see my flights of fancy could be good for something.

“Well, it seems we’ve both had good hunting,” Zane said cheerily as he took in our “harvest”. He behaved for all the world like he was out on a picnic, completely ignoring Erica, Emune, and Karashan fanning out behind him and Adelina.

“And what were you hunting?” I asked, adopting his same casual tone. If it worked for him, it worked for me. I was accustomed to ignoring my Flight when they were working, and being falsely light and at ease was closer than second nature.

“Shelter. There’s something like an old rsh, ah, meeting place,” he ammended almost flawlessly, “just over that rise.”

“I didn’t see any buildings,” Rei said grumpily. I’d have wondered at his open unhappiness if it weren’t for Zane. It was clear the cobra made him forget every ounce of his reserve or restraint. I was glad of it, in a way. It meant I didn’t have to wonder where my guard captain stood.

“Nor have I,” Karashan added, “On any of our scouting trips. This place is No Man’s Land.”

Raymond made a sound behind me, but Zane openly scoffed.

“I didn’t say we’d found a building, I said we found a rsh, a nest. They’re always built into the trees--” His words cut off, and it didn’t take much insight to guess that he’d been about to comment on how they’re not meant to be noticable from above. Diplomatically, he continued, “It would take a serpiente to find one. Even from the ground, they’re well hidden if you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“It’s true, my lady.” Erica had stayed glued to Zane’s side, either eager to prove herself, or eager to stick a knife in his back and beg forgieness later. I’d have worried more, but Karashan had stayed glued to Erica. “I saw the pair of them slip between the trees and it was like they weren’t even there. But the shelter checks out, and it has a place for a fire and provisions.” It was clear from her tone that she’d checked it over with a soldier’s eye, with a minnd for defensibility and praticality. I more selfishly wondered about comfort.

When I’d suggested I spend the week with Zane, I’d been envisioning staying at the Lyssia’s farmhouse, or at the least not out of doors. I don’t know what I’d expected from a place called “the ruins”, but I was not prepared to take an extended camping trip with Zane Cobriana.

Was that petty of me? I’d thought it was rather big of me to suggest spending the week with him at all. Wasn’t it reasonable to expect to spend that week in physical comfort, since it was guarenteed to be about as emotionally uncomfortable as possible?

But I followed them up the rise, into the trees, and was glad we’d set out at first light. It gave us plenty of time to check over the whole place, and hopefully to discover there was no other option but to return to the farm house for a hot meal and a regroup.

Erica was the first to disappear, walking right between two trees and simply vanishing. Emune cried out, but Karashan touched his shoulder and held him back.

Adelina went next, and the pair of them pulled back whatever covering obscured the opening. The space was close and dark, a yawning void between them. I did not care for that symbolism one bit.

But Zane strode forward without any visible concern, and Karashan went in after him, leaving me with the men of my guard.

I looked to Rei, not sure what I was asking him but feeling the pleading in my eyes. I think if Emune and Raymond hadn’t been there, he might have pulled me to him, might have whispered a chastizement, or an endearment, or something. But we had an audience, and Zane had poked his head back out of the dark.

“It’s brighter than it looks from the outside. Come inside, and I’ll show you all the secrets of a rsh.”

His crooked grin was too tempting, infectious in its enthusiasm. He was clearly delighted to have stumbled upon this part of serpiente history, and his eagerness to share it with me was catching. So I simply nodded, taking the hand he offered to help me in over the tangle of roots. I thrilled at the touch of his hand--then stiffened at the touch of his other hand on my waist.

I nearly tripped in my haste to pull away, which, of course, only made him hold on tighter.

“Easy there.”

Before I could form any protest, Erica’s dagger was out--and Adelina’s blade tipped stave. Their reactions immediately shifted mine, from outrage at Zane’s impropriaty to the ever present frustration at everyone’s haste to jump to violence.

“Hold!”

The command in my tone surprised even me, but I didn’t let it show.

“Zane startled me. It cannot come to blows every time one of us flinches or moves too swiftly. This is why we can’t stop the fighting, don’t you see that? Stop being soldiers for two blessed minutes and just be guards. You’re here to protect us from outside threats, not each other.”

“But my lady,” Erica insisted, “If I do not stay at the ready, I will not be fast enough to react to them. Serpiente are just too fast.”

I let her see all the tiredness in my eyes, and the frustration and disappointment and exasperation.

“If he strikes me out here, Erica, then let him strike me. Let him end the Shardae line here and now, and let every sparrow, crow, and raven bow down to their new Diente, or fly away to the island of Ahnmik. Either way, I am done fighting him. Do you understand that, Erica?”

Erica gave me a long, potent look, and I could see all the thoughts swirling behind her eyes. But what she said was,

“I have sworn to give my life’s blood in defense of my queen and her heirs. I cannot stand by and allow harm to come to you. My oaths do not allow it.”

“Then go home!”

I didn’t mean to shout at her, but I just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“If you cannot serve me in peace, then go home. Return to my mother, return to the generals, return to the war that no one can seem to let go of! I am done fighting. I’m done. If I live to take my oaths as Tuuli Thea, I will have no use for soldiers. If Zane kills me now, then I was never meant to wear the crown anyway. Because I cannot look at that man and summon up any bloodlust. I cannot stare into garnet eyes and see anything but a dying little boy, hurt and alone. I can’t seem to find the hatred that keeps you all going. Maybe if I’d been aloud to mourn anyone--“

My voice broken on a sob, every tear I’d never shed rising up all at once to choke me. I turned away, but there was no away in this tight press of people. Half a dozen soldiers, and one of them with my dead alastair’s face--

I spun in the other direction and simply ran.

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes

#raev does fic #hawksong fic #hawksong #the ties that bind #my writing tag

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gisachi · 4 years

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Can you do number 30?

Thank you for patiently waiting! Before I start, I need to mention that this is a completely self indulgent drabble, heavily inspired by one of @detectivegeekshin‘s ShinRan doodles. This one. Damn I really really loved it, literally how can a doodle make my heart thump so fast!! So I hope you don’t mind me making a fic out of it!🥴❤️ And for Anon, forgive me if this kinda feels all over the place because halfway through I kinda did some paragraph vomit and derailed...lmao but I hope this still suits your taste, somehow! 😉

30. Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. (1,726 words)

Shinichi and Ran have a super secret routine after class.

After Shinichi’s return for good, everyone could’ve correctly guessed that the two would be back to being inseparable like bread and butter, so wherever Ran goes, Shinichi goes, except in the bathroom or in club activities.

No one ever questions this, understanding how much time they need together now that they’re making up for what they lost, not to mention how all their classmates find these two incredibly adorable together that they will deliberately go out their way just to see them both being happy spending time in each other’s company.

Which pretty much makes everything nice and convenient for them and their secret routine.

Because no one - absolutely no one - must know about it.

It all started three weeks ago when Shinichi accompanied her to the filthy storage room to return some cleaning equipment after her Tuesday cleaning duty. Idly, he dusted the back of her uniform just below her nape, noticing unnecessary cobwebs that might have clung to the fabric when she moved some big boxes away.

Nothing harmless about doing that, given that the public is a witness of how comfortable they are being innocently touchy with each other. But both realized touches like that translated differently when it’s just the two of them alone. As normal as how he intended it to be, somehow at that moment the sensation of his deft hands grazing her warm back made their breath hitch, throat dry, chest tighten with an overwhelming emotion they couldn’t quite silence at will.

Like any other curious teenage couple, there’s something about being physically close to each other that compels them to just...be closer, as if the knowledge that they’re already in each other’s personal space isn’t enough. Yes, there’s nothing implicative of her boyfriend stroking her back to clean some dirt away. But his hand rested there longer than it should have, and she heard his slow, steady breathing—or hers, she wasn’t so sure—amidst the thick silence of the dim room, nothing but the passage of light from the half-opened door as source of illumination. Instinctively, she turned around and it hit her that they were sharing the same space, same air, same look…

There was barely light but she clearly saw the dangerous glint in his dark irises, longing getting the best of him. He didn’t say anything, but his message came through loud and clear.

All she knew afterwards was the mention of her name escaping his and her hand pulling his tie and his hand on her waist and mouth over her lips and—

Thus the birth of their super secret routine. Just like that.

Ran is no stranger to stories like this. She’s already in high school, and she knows things like this happen to couples their age. As a matter of fact, she does hear stories from Sonoko about sneaky couples going for it on campus and finishing undetected. But never did she expect that they will be one of the guilty ones. She’s always trusted their self-control, believing they’re mature enough to at least keep their hands to themselves until they’re in the privacy of his own house (not in her house where holding hands isn’t even an option, unless they want to give her father a heart attack). But voila, all that is gone, simply because there’s something thrilling about stealing kisses in public that makes her not want to stop.

“Hide your lips, Ran. They’re swollen,” Shinichi warned and teased the first time after they emerged from the storage room, acting all calm and collected as if he wasn’t on high adrenaline tasting her mouth minutes ago.

“Mou, Shinichi! Don’t come with me anymore!” Ran replied, face turning red immediately after recounting how shameless they’d been in there.

But Shinichi would still come, and Ran would let him, and then they’d do it again—

—And still do it, three weeks later.

In terms of intensity, she doesn’t consider them on any high scale; what they do is a lot more innocent compared to what she imagines other more daring couples do. That’s how she knows that they still have their self-control in check. Nothing but kisses, lots of them. No hands under clothes. She isn’t ready for the next step yet and Shinichi knows it from the fact that getting her face to tone down the red takes even longer than the deed itself. Likewise for Shinichi, but months of practice allow him to perfect his poker face that could rival some magician thief the moment they step out the storage room.

Today though, Ran feels a little braver. While she’s pinned between him and a dusty cabinet, she forcibly yanks his tie so it gets a little looser, almost dangling from his neck. That’s the first time she hears him gasp audibly; before, it’s just her. She feels proud of what she’s done, and returns her lips to his.

But then they hear faint footsteps approaching and Ran instantly regrets why, of all days, she has to do the yanking that day where it’ll make it harder for him to hide any evidence of impropriety.

“Caught you!” a shrill voice exclaims, booming in the room like a megaphone.

Sonoko.

Of course, it has to be Sonoko.

The only one who’s brave enough to get in the way of their alone time, just so she can tease them about it later.

Ran should’ve known.

Fortunately, Shinichi has known.

Otherwise, Ran won’t have found herself getting dragged by him inside that old cramped cabinet she was leaning onto seconds ago.

It takes a while before she fully grasps the situation they’re currently in.

Sonoko’s in the storage room, her expectant voice telling enough to let them know that she knows they are in there, while she and Shinichi hide from her in some very narrow cabinet, with little to no air circulating and with space so tight even liquid water cannot seep in.

They wait impatiently for Sonoko to leave. She must leave now, or else Ran’s going to lose her mind over how incredibly intimate and embarrassing their position right now is. Her body literally squeezes his, her hands blocking her chest, while his right hand, for lack of a better space to place it on, grips her waist.

She isn’t sure if it’s her whole body shaking or just her rapid heartbeat vibrating at an outrageous rate that can shatter glass. It’s really warm yet she feels cold sweat dripping down her neck and temple, and Shinichi must be feeling the same too because she hears him curse under his breath, his palm on her waist rubbing it over the fabric of her uniform as if wiping it off of sweat. She sees nothing in the dark despite her eyes wide open, but she can sense his head facing the side, probably due to the cramped space, and she’s close to his ear so she whispers as quietly as she can, “How did she know we’re in here?”

“Beats me. But I figure this is bound to happen,” he shrugs inwardly.

The more they wait, the more the air expands. They hear shuffling sounds outside indicating that their friend hasn’t left yet. As if the heat and tension aren’t enough to kill them, he attempts to start a conversation.

“Seriously, yanking my tie?” He mutters, more air than voice.

“W-Well if I had known I shouldn’t have d-done that!”

“Shh.”

His grip on her waist tightens as the shuffling sound gets closer to them. She doesn’t know how much air she’s holding until she senses his head slowly, soundlessly turning to her. In that instant, every fine hair on her neck tingles to his breathing, and she’s sure he’s wearing a smirk as reckless words roll out from him,

“Wanna be daring?”

His left hand springs out from where it rests behind her, successful in finding her lips in the dark, tracing before parting them slightly, and before Ran can even tell what’s going on, she feels something warm and moist press against them. Weak, tentative, cautious at first. Firm, thorough, unrelenting the second.

Only then does she realize he is kissing her, right then and there.

All while their friend is literally inches away, looking for them.

Oh, her nerves.

Oh, the thrill.

She crumples his uniform under her sweaty hands and hums, his mouth absorbing her nervous plea. Her world zeroes in on his lips kissing her, and everything around her spins and spins like she’s spiraling into some black hole, dragging Shinichi along whom she feels smiling through his goddamn arrogant mouth. What if Sonoko suddenly opens the cabinet and catches them red-handed? Does he have an excuse? Will she think of an excuse? Can they think of an excuse?

They can’t. They’re much too busy indulging themselves.

Perhaps too busy that they fail to notice the shuffling noise disappear little by little. Only when Ran claws on his shirt to ask to breathe for air do they realize that the sound is completely gone and Sonoko has already left.

“Shinichi! What was that for!” Ran half shouts, breathless as they push themselves out the cabinet, her joints and muscles aching all over.

“You didn’t like it?” Shinichi chuckles, mischief in his tone brutally evident, and Ran turns vermillion red.

“Sh-shut up!“

“I’m saying you did tug my tie so hard,” he fixes his tie while Ran hurriedly flattens her hair into something presentable, “and if Sonoko sees us like this she definitely won’t shut up about it.”

She agrees. She doesn’t even want to think about Sonoko’s incessant teasing once she finds out she and Shinichi have this kind of arrangement after class.

“You did something daring today so might as well be daring too.”

With one final touch, Shinichi swipes his lower lip with his thumb, eyeing her playfully while he smirks in satisfaction, before walking to the door. “Let’s go, before she gets even more suspicious.”

Damn. She’s doomed. He knows she’s going to want more of those next time. Every session just keeps getting dangerously better and better.

As they exited the storage room, the only thing in Ran’s mind is how much she cannot wait for the day of Shinichi’s cleaning duty. This guy better prepare himself for her payback.

#shinran #fanfic #kiss prompts #this self indulgent fic went longer than expected #no regrets tho hehe #hope you like it Anon!

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planetsam · 5 years

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Prompt: Alex & Rath AU continuation where they have that talk they were meant to have, please.

Follow up to this: HERE. Because apparently having Astrea going on ao3 isn’t enough to stop me from continuing Alex and Rath in this format if I’m prompted.

His top three mornings on Antar are the first, the day after they win, and the one where he wakes up with Alex in his arms.

Alex is cool against him. When he was a kid he always dreamed that one day he’d have a place where he could be with Alex and not have to worry. Now that it’s here he’s almost afraid of it. If he breathes too loudly or moves to quick will it break? His fingers almost tremble as he touches Alex’s skin. The last time he was tan from the sun. Now he’s paler. But Alex is the same, same warm tone but cool skin. Michael traces along the cuts of muscle and the new scars. He’s adapted to the Antar mindset and each of Alex’s scars fill him with pride and awe at his survival. A soft huff of laughter draws his eyes up as he skims his fingers over a line on Alex’s hipbone. Alex is awake, watching him. Michael flattens his hand and puts them level again.

“Morning,” he says. Alex smiles, “how was sleeping for twelve hours?”

“Not as amazing as the wakeup,” Alex say with a smile that Michael swears he feels in his toes. He kisses Alex slow and soft, taking the time to feel every languid slide of their mouths and hands. Alex makes a low sound of encouragement, but there’s none of the tension or desperation that he usually exhibits after, “but I have to file my debrief,” he says. Michael drops his head to his collar bone with a groan that makes Alex laugh, “I’m sorry!”

“Why is it when I get cockblocked it’s by the US military?” He demands, no actual anger in his tone. Alex pushes his curls from his forehead and Michael leans into the touch.

“I guess you’re just that special,” he says.

Michael flops over as Alex gets out of bed. Michael watches as he slides on his leg and then grabs the dark robe. He fastens it easily and gets up, managing to wear it more naturally than Michael is sure he’s pulled off. Ever. Even though he was literally made to be in those robes. There’s also the fact that Alex is wearing it commando and only they know which, again, might be the best use of those robes ever. He watches as Alex gets up and goes over to his bag, pulling out a slim laptop and a pair of spectacles.

He’s definitely trying to kill him, Michael decides watching him put them on and begin to work. Michael groans loudly until Alex tears his eyes from the computer. Michael props his head up on his hand and looks at him. Alex considers him for a moment and then picks up the laptop, coming back over. Michael tries to look as innocent as he possibly can. Alex looks at him steadily before getting back into bed, on top of the covers.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns.

Michael holds up his hands, he isn’t denying distracting him crossed his mind but hey if it gets Alex on the bed he’s willing to behave. Or at least try to. At the very least though he’s willing to get up and make them both coffee or the Antar equivalent. It’s when he’s out of bed that there is a knock on the door. Michael’s eyes narrow and he grabs his robe with his powers, flinging it on. Apparently it’s commando day in this part of the palace. When he opens the door though, he’s suprised to see Isobel standing there looking almost nervous. She fidgets slightly with her fingers. Isobel and fidgeting are two things that don’t go together and alarm bells go off in Michael’s head.

“I need to talk to you,” she says.

“Is this about Alex?” He asks.

“Sort of—“ Michael turns as Alex bolts up from the bed. Isobel peers around the corner and her face falls, “damn,” she mutters.

“What’s going on?” Michael questions, stepping aside so she can come into the room.

“It got out Alex came back here,” she says, “people are questioning the peace treaty and if he was a double agent,” she explains, looking at Alex apologetically, “they’ve already locked down the portal.”

“What?!” Michael says.

“They think you seduced him during the talks.”

“That’s insane,” Michael says, “he seduced me way before then—“

He turns to see Alex sitting looking completely horrified. Michael thinks anyone whose accusing Alex of not doing his job is out of their fucking minds. But Alex is in a far more complicated position. Michael goes over to where he’s sitting on the bed, lost in his own thoughts and drops next to him, making sure their legs touch. That at least startles Alex enough for him to look at him and Michael grabs his hands, ignoring the way Alex stiffens in surprise.

“Look at me,” he says, “no-one knows the whole story. We can explain what happened,” he says, “and why the idea of these not being legit is completely insane,” he cups Alex’s cheek, desperate to get him to focus anywhere but his miserable thoughts, “You’re not a traitor. We know that and someone else does too or they would just throw this thing out. We just gotta tell them about high school—“

“You seduced me,” Alex cuts in.

“Huh?” Michael says.

“You seduced me,” Alex repeats, “you played the guitar for me.”

“In the shed you invited me to camp out in,” Michael says.

“I was being nice!”

“So was I,” Michael protests.

“Okay!” Isobel cuts them off, “this is nauseatingly cute but it’s not good,” she says, “I’m sorry, but if you two do this fling it’s not going to help. If you break up—“

“Hey!” Michael cuts in, “we’re not—“ he looks at Alex.

“We haven’t been on an official date,” he explains, “this was a surprise trip on my part, I got swept up in the moment—“

“Clearly trying to seduce me again,” Michael cuts in, earning a nudge from Alex, “we’ve been out though, slapping a title on it doesn’t change that right?”

Alex looks at him dryly.

“I can see why you think i seduced you,” He says and continues past Michael’s feigned outrage, “What are you suggesting?”

“Something slightly more serious,” isobel says.

Michael stares at her. She cannot possibly be suggesting what he thinks she might be suggesting. He looks at Alex. Alex is a solider, a warrior. He thinks that them both being in Antarian robes is the most Alex has been out of the closet in a long, long time. Alex isn’t immediately refuting the ludicrous idea which means its on him.

“No. Absolutely not. We are not getting fake married for the peace of two worlds.”

“Married?!” Alex says.

“I was thinking engaged,” Isobel says, “arranged marriages are common here. Technically Michael and I were in an arranged marriage. We just didn’t get married, but we didn’t date before we were engaged.”

He opens his mouth to deny this is ever going to happen, when he realizes the same denial isn’t coming from the man sitting next to him on the bed. Alex looks stricken but he hasn’t immediately shot the idea down. He looks at Isobel and then at Alex and then gets up.

“Get out,” he says.

“Excuse me?” Isobel demands.

“Get out I need to talk to Alex,” he says.

Isobel rolls her eyes but leaves. Michael smiles just slightly as he turns around. He may have always wanted to kick a sibling out of his room because he had a boy over. This boy, to be precise. Or man. Who is sitting there with his most concentrated face.

“So, uh, I can call her off,” Michael says, “or, we could do it,” he looks at him, “this kind of feels like an ‘us’ discussion,” he hesitates and then continues shyly, “you didn’t say no.”

Alex hangs his head, rubbing his face. He’s right, he didn’t say no. He wouldn’t say no. Their relationship has been so fraught with miscommunication that he knows him being there in robes on Michael’s bed will be less than him objecting. He looks at Michael who looks stricken but also hopeful. Alex wonders briefly if the universe is stacked against them, if there’s any point to fighting it like this. But one look at Michael and he has the answer to that.

“I didn’t come back here for the world,” he says, “I came back here for you.”

“But—“ Michael swallows, “marriage?”

“Engagement,” Alex says, “we would date while we were engaged,” he continues, “I’d have to learn the customs of this place—“ he trails off at Michael’s stunned look, “we could be engaged for a while,” he finishes.

“Yeah,” Michael says.

“That’s what dating is working towards anyways right?” He continues, “seeing if you want to marry someone.”

Ten years ago that wasn’t an option on earth. He looks at Michael.

“Can we get married here?” He asks tentatively, wondering if this is over before it’s begun.

“Oh, yeah, I wrote that into the constitution for us,” Michael says.

“Ha ha,” Alex replies sarcastically, “seriously though—“ he trails off as Michael looks at him calmly, “you’re not kidding.”

Michael shakes his head.

“Did you pick out a ring too?” Alex asks and there’s no sarcasm in his voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Michael says, “come on.”

He grabs Alex’s hand and leads him to the wall. He steps through and Alex follows him into a dark and cool passage. Several scanners inspect Michael and then let him continue. This place is cool and it’s made of an odd dark purple stone that flickers with light Alex can’t pinpoint the location of. Mostly because Michael is setting a brisk pace and brings him to the dead end. His hand glows red and he presses it to the wall. It vanishes to reveal a gilded door, the rosy gold bright warm in the passage. Michael opens it and pulls him inside. Alex used to like jewelry but it was costume jewelry.

This is definitely not.

It’s the Antar Crown Jewels and there are a lot of them. The purple stone turns rainbow and reflects everything, making the room seem like it’s a geode. There’s crowns and ornaments and if Liz ever seals the deal with Max she is never going to have to buy jewelry again. He recognizes a few pieces Isobel has worn and a few crowns Max has as well. Michael leads him to a section that has a lot of achingly beautiful weapons and ceremonial armor. Michael stops and turns to him.

“This is my section,” he says, “there’s not a lot of rings but I’m sure Max and Iz don’t mind if you wanna look,” he says and brings him over, “it doesn’t have to be a ring but in context—“

Alex looks at the rings. Michael turns away so Alex can’t read his reactions. Alex feels a rush of annoyance and affection towards him as he turns back to the bands. Two stick out at him though, a narrow band of obsidian and an equally narrow one of coppery gold. He picks them up and stands in front of Michael. Surprise goes to happiness and then to something else. Michael’s eyes go bright.

“What?” Alex asks.

“Which one?” Michael counters and Alex takes his hand and slides the black one up his finger. Michael looks at it and then takes the coppery one, carefully sliding up his finger. Alex looks at him curiously, “this was my grandfathers,” he says holding up his own hand. His gaze softens, “that was my mom’s.”

Alex opens his mouth to offer to give it back but Michael bends and kisses the back of his hand, like this is where it belongs and Alex closes his mouth.

****

Alex comes out of the bathroom wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“The last time someone found out about us, they broke your hand with a hammer and started a war,” Alex says.

Michael softens and his lips quirk up.

“So it’s not being engaged to me?”

Alex picks the insecurity in his eyes and crosses the room. He’s sick at the thought of the world knowing but he’s dizzy with the notion he can be in front of Michael and take him in his arms. That they can be together. Still, after everything. He’s desperate to make the insecurity go away and the only way he can think to do that is to cup both of Michael’s cheeks and kiss him. Michael hums into the kiss and then goes silent as it turns hungry and passionate. He whimpers and Alex pulls back, waiting for him to open his eyes.

“Being engaged to you is the only thing that makes this worth it,” he swears.

“God, what are we doing?” Michael says helplessly and Alex presses his forehead to his.

“What we have to,” Alex says and Michael tenses, “and what we want to,” Alex tells him.

“Don’t be scared,” Michael says and Alex swallows, “I’m gonna be there with you the whole time,” Alex takes a deep breath, “also your dad only got to me because I was pretending to be human,” he points out.

“Also he’s dead,” Alex adds.

Michael shakes his head. Alex goes to pull back and Michael holds him. Alex can hear the unspoken plea for one more stolen moment and surrenders without a second thought. He kisses Michael on the mouth and pulls back just enough to whisper in the space between them.

“I love you,” He says. Michael inhales sharply and Alex continues, “I can’t say it to the world first. You don’t have to say—“

“I love you too,” Michael cuts in, Alex feels words rushing through him, “Alex,” he says his name and feels Alex tense, “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Alex makes a noise and Michael pulls him closer, burying his face in Alex’s neck as they hold each other. For the first time since this all started, he doesn’t feel like a monster in a war. He feels like someone who lost something, who has a chance of getting it back. No, he feels like someone who did get it back. He’s spent years watching reunions, envious of those who got to have them. Now he gets it.

“We have to go,” Alex says regretfully and Michael shakes his head.

“I’m not used to we,” he admits.

“Me neither,” Alex replies and something cheeky comes into his eyes and he offers his arm, “shall we?”

“Remind me why we’re engaged again?” Michael says, taking his arm.

****

“So their biggest problem is that we’re both guys?” Michael demands, “that’s it?” He makes a noise of disgust, “What a bunch of morons.”

Alex is quiet and Michael frowns, lowering the tabloid in favor of looking at Alex who is laying with his head on Michael’s stomach. Deep in thought. Apparently talking about this isn’t going to tug him out of it so Michael searches for the thing that will.

“At least you look good in the pictures,” he says.

No response.

“Hey, remember when the biggest issue was that I was a low life?” He says. Alex’s brow furrows, “I guess now you gotta suffer through being with a—and I quote—‘genocidal maniac who likes to take it up the ass’,” he frowns, “I don’t get the correlation.”

“Ugh,” Alex says and grabs the tabloid, throwing it to the side.

“Not a fan?”

“I can’t believe we’re on all of them,” Alex finally says, breaking his silence, “people didn’t know I was—“ he waves a hand around. Michael tries not to be distracted by the coppery band.

“Gay?”

“In love with the guy I was fighting,” Alex says.

“Oh,” Michael grins, “right.”

“How are you smiling?” Alex questions, fully grumpy and Michael shrugs.

“I guess I’m still enamored with you saying that,” he admits.

Alex looks at him for a long moment before sighing and picking up the tabloid, adjusting his neck against Michael’s stomach. The picture is not one of the official, stiff portraits thank god. Rather it’s of them walking away from the press conference angled towards each other. Alex looks completely dignified and Michael has his head thrown back, laughing at something Alex has said. The next picture is of Alex standing in front of a plane and underneath it says they have the exclusive scoop of his torrid history of canoodling with the enemy.

“Your scandal would use the word canoodle,” Michael says taking the magazine back.

Alex turns and buries his face in Michael’s stomach with a groan.

“Can someone else have a scandal?” He pleas.

****

Three days later Max and Liz are caught by the paparazzi mid-smooch and he gets his wish.

****

“Antarian dances are not meant to have two men dancing them,” the man teaching them starts to protest.

“Well they are now, so let’s figure it out,” Michael says.

“General Rath,” he begins.

“God, look, okay there’s already a ton of scandal going on. So if you don’t want to teach then that’s fine,” Michael says, “but I feel like we already crossed the scandal bridge. It’s two dudes dancing together,” he continues, “the biggest problem is gonna be that everyone wants to dance with Alex, which I get, but as his fiancé the job falls to me.”

“There’s a lot of dipping,” the tutor says, “in this particular dance. Which you must preform,” he continues.

“Great, Alex you wanna dip or should I?” Michael asks.

Alex looks at him and at the tutor. The spotlight on him is wildly uncomfortable and every move that Michael tries to make to easier it only seems to make it worse. Finally Alex gets to his feet, walks over and immediately starts to lead them impeccably through the dance. The man has one foot and he’s about a thousand times better at this than Michael has ever been. Michael thinks he’d be more outraged if it wasn’t so hot. And just because Alex is, well, Alex, at the end of it he finds himself very firmly in a dip.

“Splendid!” The tutor claps his hands together, “simply splendid, you move very well General Manes,” he says.

Michael steals Alex out into the gardens when the lesson is done and they are very well into the massive hedge maze before he manages to relax, even just a little. But Alex is still quiet and Michael can feel the worry churning through him. Maybe this is too much. It wouldn’t be the first time it was. He looks at Alex but doesn’t try to get him to stop, finally sacrificing the pretense.

“Talk to me,” he says. When Alex opens his mouth, he looks at him and then closes it before opening it again.

“I’m not used to being in the spotlight,” Alex admits. Michael raises an eyebrow, Alex is every bit the hero he is, “because of who I love. I hid it,” he emphasizes, “I thought we would have time before—“

“We got engaged?”

“We caused a scandal,” Alex admits, “I was hoping to avoid the scandal.”

Michael manages to bite back his sarcastic remarks that even if all this had never happened they would still be pretty scandalous. Worry sparks in Alex’s eyes and Michael bites on his lower lip before getting in front of him and catching his hands with his own.

“We can talk about it,” he says. Alex sighs, “we can,” he stresses, “we should. Because this all will die down,” he reminds him, “look I’ll go first,” he says, “I hate the attention. But I like the world knowing we’re together,” he explains, “I like not having to hide it.”

“I was used to hiding it,” Alex admits, “I’m used to secrets,” he looks at him, “you were born for this. I wasn’t.”

“Yeah which means you earned it,” Michael stresses, “I just woke up here and they started calling me a General.”

Alex looks at him quietly before starting to walk again. Michael moves alongside him. They don’t always talk about the start of the war, about what happened while they were trying to kill each other. But Michael thinks they probably should. If they are having all these weird conversations.

“It must have been hard learning on the job,” Alex says.

“Yeah, since I’ve got no poker face,” Michael points out and Alex smiles.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he murmurs.

Michael laughs as they wander through. Holding left hands, he can feel the band on Alex’s finger and if he moves his the right way, they can click together. The first few drops of rain startle Alex. The fact that startled means he grips Michael’s hand tighter means more to Michael than he has the words to say. Also the rain on Antar is purple. Alex sticks his other hand out and catches the drops, looking at them intently. They make their way back to his room where Alex has been spending most of his nights, since another advantage to the scandal is that them living together in sin is a small one. Comparatively. But that means that Michael gets to kiss Alex on his balcony in the purple rain.

“I hate the attention,” Alex says, “I wish you weren’t worth it.”

Michael laughs into the kiss and pulls Alex into the room, showing him exactly how worth it he is.

Neither of them sees the man waiting there until it’s too late.

***

“Alex! Hold on, just hold on!”

He’s floating, anchored only by Michael’s warmth. His lips are still swollen, that must be why it’s hard to breathe. It’s bright and he feels Michael kiss his hand before his warmth is gone. There’s hands on him, pulling open what he’s wearing and pressing onto his chest. The movements are quick and efficient and Alex doesn’t know why Michael is worried.

He’s floating.

“Michael! Oh my god, whose blood is that?!”

He hears Michael make a wounded noise and he tires to open his eyes but he can’t remember how.

Then the healing starts and he forgets everything altogether.

****

Michael’s top three mornings pale in comparison to the one where Alex wakes up.

One moment Michael is drinking coffee and eating toast under Liz’s death glare, the next he’s running to the bed as Alex stares up at him. He’s physical okay, Antar healing is unparalleled. But between being shot and stressed and sleep deprived, his body needs the break. He’s been asleep for the longest two days of Michael’s life. Alex blinks and frowns at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Michael shakes his head.

“You asshole,” he says, “I thought we talked about you throwing yourself in front of me.”

Alex frowns and looks down at his hand.

“Where’s my ring?”

“God,” Michael shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Alex’s ring off his finger where he’s been wearing it next to his own. He slides it on his hand and Alex relaxes, “no more taking hits for me,” he says.

“But I’m going to be your husband,” Alex says, tugging him down weakly, “I have to protect you.”

Michael goes and presses his face to Alex’s shoulder. He’s been listening to his heart and breathing for two days, reminding himself that Alex is still here. That between his powers and his screaming he was able to make sure Alex wasn’t dead. Alex saved him, saved them both, but he is never going back to his old rooms. They’re moving into new ones and he’s not letting Alex out of his sight.

“I think we should get married sooner,” Alex says.

“Not until you promise to never do that again,” Michael says.

Alex smiles.

****

He doesn’t promise.

They move the wedding up anyway.

****

“Get out! Get out get out get out!”

Michael and Alex’s favorite morning starts with getting yelled at.

Isobel is not amused considering the work she’s done to keep them apart. Not that it matters. They’ve managed to wind up in the same room, tangled together. Alex lifts his head as Michael groans and presses his forehead to his shoulder before turning over to his irate sister.

“You said no more scandals!”

“Iz, the only scandal is how loud you’re yelling,” he says, pushing himself up. Under the sheets, Alex’s hand doesn’t move from the small of his back, “it’s early!”

“You have to get ready,” she says, “we both know how long it takes to do your hair.”

“She’s right,” Alex says rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Don’t take her side, she’s just your sister in law. I’m going to be your husband!”

Alex softens at his outrage. Reminding each other they’re going to be married is the new I love you, though that’s still pretty great to hear. He’d marry Michael with his sleep rumpled curls and his old UFO emporium t-shirt, but he gets the need for this to go well from a public perspective. The problem is while he would, Michael looks like he has every intention of actually doing that. So Alex kneads his lower back and regretfully shifts away so he can get up, leaving Michael less than thrilled at this turn of events.

“Your hair—“

“I’ll telekinetically remove the water,” Michael argues, passing him coffee that Alex takes with a nod of thanks.

“We can’t be late,” he says finally. Michael rolls his eyes, “the faster we get this done the faster we’ll be married.”

Michael considers this as he spins the copper band around his finger. Alex looks to his still glaring soon to be sister in law and then back to his soon to be husband who shoves a hand through his hair and pushes his curls off his forehead. Family, Alex thinks, this is what a family is. His family. Michael stands up and stretches, tugging his stolen shirt and looking at Isobel.

“Guess we should get going, huh?” He says, dragging a hand through his hair and flashing Alex the kind of grin that makes him want to pull Michael back into bed, “see you later,” he says and steals a kiss from the corner of Alex’s mouth. Alex catches him, pulls him back and kisses him properly.

“See you soon.”

#michael guerin #alex manes #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #prompts #Michael x alex

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scvereignty · 5 years

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introduction i.

A D E L A I D E W I N D S O R ( p r i n c e s s o f e n g l a n d )

bespoke houndstooth blazers, watching your mare come second place, exposed lace garters, sipping from a bottle of warm champagne, grey skies, french erotica, a wet slip dress with nothing underneath, white roses, reciting passages by heart at parties, mascara-stained sheets, sitting by open windows despite the cold, black velvet, heavy books by pretentious authors, jewels at the breakfast table, the dirty hem of a long dress, hidden gardens, purple hickeys on pale thigh, smoking in secret, sleeping naked, perfect tennis whites & an immaculate backhand, bows in tangled hair, audrey hepburn films & grace kelly sensibility, placing their hand over your neck mid-kiss and squeezing hard, oversized sunglasses paired with red eyes and dark circles, never wearing the same coat twice, the weight of history, the shot that puts down a lame horse, perfect posture, lingerie and silk in the library, sucking whip cream off of strawberries, making love in the stable, watching the sunrise from the garden in an evening gown.

age: twenty-one

nicknames: di, rosie, little princess

sexuality: heterosexual ( publicly ) / bisexual ( private, exploring )

gender: cisgender female

title: her royal highness

( + ) elegant, graceful, intelligent, clever, intuitive, adaptable, creative, impulsive, sensual, motivated, self-confident, hard-working, mature, modest, reliable, outspoken ( - ) pretentious, aloof, melancholy, judgemental, private, elusive, deceptive, guarded, secretive, unforgiving, sensitive, affected, mistrusting, self-destructive, changeable, indecipherable

UNDER THE CUT : HISTORY, TRIVIA, & CONNECTIONS !

A BRIEF HISTORY ;

the youngest windsor & only princess of england!

i’m currently keeping her actual childhood/family background undecided until i get the chance to plot with her brother(s), but as per the connection description: the siblings were initially v close while their parents were rather absent

notably, adelaide & her brother james had an extremely special relationship. as the eldest and youngest of the brood, from the time adelaide was born, james’s affection for her was almost paternal in many ways — and she loved him to pieces.

literally, like, there are shots of james walking adelaide hand-in-hand into her primary school, and even as they got older, she considered him her best friend and biggest protector. this is highkey inspired by my own grandmother & how she describes her relationship w her own late brother uwu

a charming, odd child, who was labelled as an old soul very early in life. very well mannered and mature, but prone to somewhat unusual flights of fancy

a lowkey trouble maker -- or rather, incredible adept at being subtle. with at least one wild elder brother, it was both easy to learn from their mistakes and appear innocent in comparison

as adelaide got older, that old soul developed some of the troubles they’re ought to. she craved art, passion, love, justice, intense emotion, experience. she engaged in these behaviours moderately and with subtlety, particularly in comparison to silas. she was/is less about wild partying and more about deep experiences, and as such there have rarely been any stories about the little princess and drinking/inappropriate behaviour

she had always had a changeable nature and was susceptible to bouts of depression, but the death of james hit her in a way she has yet to recover from. while the whole family was devastated, no one took it harder than adelaide, who to this day calls him the love of her life

for the two years since his murder, adelaide has been in a poor mental and emotional place. unable to fully move on despite the time that has passed, she has both retreated further into herself and sought out unhealthy methods of coping ( ie. the usual -- alcohol, travel, and occasionally drugs )

hence she’s chosen to come to genovia, a decision that surprised even her parents. remaining in london has kept her in the throes of mourning, so she hopes to let go of some of her grief by arriving somewhere new and attempting self care

reputation & aesthetics tend to be very immaculate and proper, so it’s often a surprise to those that find out the young princess has that darker, troubled, sensual side to her - that she can drink gin straight without wincing, or has bruises and hickeys beneath her silk blouse

has never had any desire to rule/never considered it an option, but instead focuses her life on the betterment of people but domestic to the uk and worldwide through charity & philanthropy

TRIVIA ;

the nickname for her in the uk is “the english rose,” or several variants (“the little rose,” etc) due to her fair complexion & nature. her reputation is very princess diana-esque: a modern, classy woman who devotes her time to philanthropy & charity

considered a fashion icon!

an extremely accomplished horse rider, considered one of the best competitors in britain despite not actively competing in years. she’s down showmanship, jumping, dressage, & eventing. yes, she is the horse girl

despite her tiny height, form, and general fairylike facial features, this girl can drink a surprising amount of people under the table. is this a sign of a Problem? CERTAINLY

if you think you are the most beautiful and/or incredible thing to walk this earth, she thinks you are incredibly stupid. she’ll name 14 pieces of art right NOW that are more interesting than ur looks

makes a habit of calling out those that are arrogant/rude

she started smoking when she was fourteen. her parents still don’t know.

camilla macaulay, grace kelly, and princess diana are probably her biggest inspos

very accomplished liar - she has an incredible poker face

she wears a locket james gave her every day. he had it specially made with an inscription (either a quote from a little princess or the secret garden, i haven’t decided), but since then she’s had the other side inlaid with a photo of him :c

her favourite disney movie is alice in wonderland, which is also one of her favourite novels

PLOTS & CONNECTIONS ;

the best friend: self explanatory! very open to how their friendship came about and when, but someone who knows adelaide intimately, and one of the few that can still read her even when she’s putting on her otherwise immaculate facade

the no-good: someone that would have been her corrupter, perhaps, or thought to be -- until they realized she was not the delicate thing one would seem. could be friends with benefits, drinking buddies, someone who encourages self-destructive behaviours, or any combination of this.

the counsel: young as she is, adelaide knows herself intimately, and as such knows a great deal about women in general -- this muse is coming to her for advice on how to court mignonette (or another lady)!

the lionheart: a dear friend, and someone similar to adelaide insomuch as her old soul, maturity, devotion to philanthropy, etc. someone to either decry or poke fun at the triviality of so much around them

the skinny love: it’s been the wrong time since childhood. but it’s always been the right time to hold terrible affection for each other. how heartbreaking, to keep on watching but never kissing.

the charged: inspired by this gif set. the true terrible influence, unhealthy relationship, disaster in a glass bottle. they infuriate each other, say the worst things that can be said. then they let it out in bed -- or almost go. getting closer every time

the antagonist: preferably a princess or someone of noble enough birth that they could have attended the same academy in their teen years. alternatively, could just be a pair that runs into each other frequently at those fancy aristocratic events. ( x ) is someone that leans into that queen B(itch) trope, or otherwise is confident to the point of arrogance/is unphased by potentially offending others by saying what they want, when they want. adelaide, blank-faced over her glass, calls this person out for their behaviour. as such, an intense dislike starts to brood between the two

the affair: we talking sex, we talking scandal, we talking familial outrage. we can talk more about specific circumstances, but i am very solid on the aesthetic of That Scene in atonement: aka green dress, up against the library walls during a dinner party, walked in on at the perfectly terrible moment. my initial thought was that these two met for the first time when the windsor’s were hosting a dinner/ball/celebration or something in honour of this royal/important family, and adelaide and ( x ) had incredible chemistry -- or at least sexual attraction. it only takes a few hours and several glasses of champagne for them to end up in the library in an entirely compromising position before someone walks in on them and snitches to the family. the whole evening is absolutely ruined, both sets of parents in disarray, and while the press never hear why the night was the fiasco, there are now rumours of tension between the two families/nations. alternatively, this could have been started some time long ago and wasn’t 100% a one-off

the young love: adelaide’s longest relationship, which began sometime in late high school or early college and lasted several years. preferably someone of royal blood, because this was in many ways - especially aesthetically - the Perfect Relationship. not only was adelaide wildly in love with them, but their relationship was public, and the press considered it an incredible feat that a prince and princess would naturally begin dating. this kind of aesthetic, ja feel? everyone that knew them felt they would get married, including adelaide. but for whatever reasons you like, this little prince broke up with her, and subsequently broke her heart & dashed her dreams. prior to james’s death, this was the greatest pain she ever endured. still do this day if she references “my ex,” or compares a man to someone, it’s this guy. despite whatever time has passed between break-up and now, adelaide still treats him with some disdain -- she’s both still hurt, and still harbouring lingering affection for him.

the exploration: the first woman that made adelaide question her sexuality !! i’m open as to what this is, how it happened etc; whether anything physical occurred or they were merely flirtatious and physically close; if it was one-sided or reciprocated, etc.

#genoviaintro #phew ok we done #allp.a

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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Why Did Republicans Vote Against The First Responders Bill

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-did-republicans-vote-against-the-first-responders-bill/

Why Did Republicans Vote Against The First Responders Bill

Biden Pushed For Bipartisanship What Happened

Why Did the Republican Congress Argue AGAINST the COVID Stimulus Bill?

Biden ran on wanting bipartisanship efforts on Capitol Hill, and being a;negotiator during his 36 years in the Senate.;

More:Amid calls for unity, President Biden and Republicans don’t agree what that looks like

Bipartisan efforts were made in the beginning of negotiations, with a;group of 10 Republicans meeting with Biden at the White House in early February to propose a counteroffer: a;$618 billion package.

But, those talks and communication have;since fizzled, according to Romney, who was;one of the senators who met with Biden. He told reporters;there has been very little effort on the part of the White House to find common ground with Republicans.

More:How much money will your state get if Biden’s COVID-19 relief bill passes?

Sen. Susan Collins, R-Me., who was also in the group of 10 Republicans, said;talks between the White House and her colleagues stalled.”

Biden said he hoped;”Republicans in Congress listen to their constituents,”;citing the popularity of the bill in some polls.;

Romney told reporters Thursday if some Republican amendments;got into the bill, some of his colleagues may support it.;

“But my guess is it’s not likely that many of our amendments will get any Democrat support so I think it’s very unlikely that any Republicans will support the final bill,” he said.

McConnell and other Republicans have also criticized Democrats for using;a special process called reconciliation to push forward;the legislation;without much input from the GOP.;

Gop Claims Afghan Refugees Are Arriving Unvetted That’s Not True

Thirty-five House Republican broke ranks Wednesday evening to support legislation that would establish an independent commission to investigate the January 6 insurrection at the US Capitol.

Liz Cheney of Wyoming

Tom Rice of South Carolina

Dan Newhouse of Washington

Jaime Herrera Beutler of Washington

Peter Meijer of Michigan

John Katko of New York

David Valadao of California

Tom Reed of New York

Don Bacon of Nebraska

Andrew Garbarino of New York

Tony Gonzales of Texas

Dusty Johnson of South Dakota

David Joyce of Ohio

Chris Smith of New Jersey

Van Taylor of Texas

Chris Jacobs of New York

David McKinley of West Virginia

Jeff Fortenberry of Nebraska

Why 21 House Republicans Balked At Medals For Capitol Police

There was a brief political consensus in the immediate aftermath of the insurrectionist attack on the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6. The left, right, and center could all agree on a simple truth: participating in a riotous assault against the nation’s seat of government, in the hopes of derailing our electoral system, is a serious attack against our democracy.

As we’ve discussed, however, that consensus broke down soon after. As winter turned to spring, many House Republicans decided to rewrite recent history, recasting the villains as heroes, and the police as heavy-handed abusers who interfered with “peaceful patriots” engaged in a lawful protest. There was fresh evidence of this yesterday: TPM reported, “During a House Oversight committee hearing Tuesday, several Republicans spent their speaking time expressing concern for a specific group of people involved in the January 6 attack: the insurrectionists themselves.”

Soon after the hearing, the House took up a measure to honor the law-enforcement officials who defended the Capitol on Jan. 6. The resolution passed, but not unanimously.

To be sure, a 406-to-21 vote is lopsided, but under normal circumstances, we’d expect zero members of Congress to vote against a measure honoring Capitol Police who kept them safe during an attack on their own institution. Yesterday, however, 21 lawmakers — each of them conservative Republicans — voted “no,” despite knowing that the resolution would pass anyway.

You May Like: Who Makes More Money Democrats Or Republicans

House Republicans Voted Against Giving Medals To Officers Who Responded To Jan 6 Riot

The House passed a bill Tuesday to award the Congressional Gold Medal to all law enforcement officers who defended the Capitol during the Jan. 6 riot, with 21 Republicans opposing the bill.

Why it matters via the Washington Post:“he vote underscored the still-lingering tensions in Congress amid efforts by some GOP lawmakers to whitewash the events of that day.”

Stay on top of the latest market trends and economic insights with Axios Markets.

The measure passed the House with a bipartisan vote of 406-21.

Details: The four medals awarded under the bill one of the highest civilian honors would be displayed in the Capitol Police and Metropolitan Police headquarters, Smithsonian Institution and the Capitol building.

The bill names the three law enforcement officers who died following the attack, and singles out U.S. Capitol Police officer Eugene Goodman, who lured a mob away from members of Congress.

The resolution recognizes their actions as an example of “the patriotism and the commitment of Capitol Police officers, and those of other law enforcement agencies, to risk their lives in service of our country.”

The Republicans who voted against:

Rep. Thomas Massie

Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene

Rep. Andy Harris

The Long Fight To Funding

Congress passed the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act in 2010, over opposition from some Republicans who balked at its original $7 billion price tag. The act was reauthorized in 2015 for 90 years. But a portion of the law the Victim Compensation Fund was only funded for five years, through the end of 2020.; The fund aimed to provide necessary financial support for the thousands who suffered serious medical issues, including a spate of cancer diagnoses, after the 2001 attacks.;

The House voted 402 to 12 to permanently reauthorize the fund through 2092 earlier in July, with the Congressional Budget Office estimating $10.2 billion in costs over the next ten years. However, Sen. Rand Paul prevented the Senate from voting to approve the bill by unanimous consent last week because of its high cost. Fellow Republican Sen. Mike Lee of Utah also placed a procedural hold on the legislation, further preventing it from passing in the Senate.;

Under Senate rules, any one senator can propose that a bill be considered for unanimous consent, but one senator can also block it. The bill was then brought to the floor for debate and a full vote this week.

Comedian and 9/11 first responder advocate Jon Stewart blasted Paul;over the issue, telling Fox News the move was “absolutely outrageous.”;

In a last-minute pitch before Tuesday’s vote, Paul offered an amendment he said would help offset the bill’s spending costs.;

Don’t Miss: How Many Democrats And Republicans Are In The House

/11 Responders Bill Defeated By Senate Gop Filibuster

the CNN Wire StaffSTORY HIGHLIGHTS

Motion for cloture falls three votes short of ending GOP filibuster

Republicans oppose the $7.4 billion cost; supporters hope to revive the measure

Bill would provide medical benefits, compensation for 9/11 first responders

NYC Mayor Bloomberg calls it an “example of partisan politics trumping patriotism”

Washington — Senate Democrats failed Thursday to win a procedural vote to open debate on a bill that would provide medical benefits and compensation for emergency workers who were first on the scene of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

The motion for cloture, or to begin debate, needed 60 votes to pass due to a Republican filibuster, but fell short at 57-42 in favor.

While supporters said they would try to bring the bill up again, either on its own or as part of other legislation to be considered, the vote Thursday jeopardized the measure’s chances for approval in the final weeks of the current congressional session.

The House previously passed the bill on a mostly partisan 268-160 vote.

New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg reacted to Thursday’s result by calling it “a tragic example of partisan politics trumping patriotism.”

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Michael Bloomberg

“I urge Senate Republicans to reconsider their wrong-headed political strategy and allow the bill to come to the floor for a vote,” Bloomberg said in a statement.

Zadroga Act Opponents Including Paul Ryan Observe September 11 Anniversary

WASHINGTON — The nation’s leading Republicans marked the 11th anniversary of 9/11 with the words “never forget” on their lips — most of those using the occasion to promote legislation — but nearly all of them opposed the bill passed two years ago to help the first responders who suffered health problems in the wake of the attacks.

Prominent among them was vice presidential nominee, Rep. Paul Ryan , who voted twice against the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act, and opposed the final passage of the bill.

“Eleven years ago today, from Capitol Hill, I could see the smoke rising from the fires burning in the Pentagon. Like all Americans, I will never forget the moment that our homeland came under attack,” Ryan said in a statement. “For me, this is a day to remember those who perished on that day of terror, including the first responders.”

A spokesman for Ryan, Brendan Buck, insisted that Ryan supports 9/11 responders and pointed to the congressman’s votes soon after the attacks in favor of aid for those suffering. He explained Ryan’s Dec. 2010 comments on the House floor in opposition to the Zadroga bill by noting that Ryan said he didn’t like the bill because he thought it was flawed, was “rushed” onto the floor by Democrats, and created a new mandatory spending program.

“Gov. Romney supports government assistance to the victims of terrorism,” Saul said.

Recommended Reading: What Witnesses Did The Republicans Want To Call

Texas Elections Bill Was Near Party

Friday’s vote;saw only one representative;cross;party lines; Rep. Lyle Larson, R-San Antonio, who voted against SB 1.;

All 40 Democrats who were present Friday voted against the bill, with several saying efforts should focus on improving;voter access with such initiatives as online or election day voter registration.

Instead, Republicans squandered an opportunity by focusing on restrictions that will have a disproportionate impact on voters of color, said Rep. Chris Turner, D-Grand Prairie,;one of nine Democrats to speak against SB 1 to close Friday’s debate.

The bill, Turner said, was inspired by the “big lie” that President Donald Trump was denied a second term because of widespread election fraud, a conspiracy theory unleashing a toxic and dangerous threat to democracy.

“He and other Republicans whipped their base into a frenzy with crazy conspiracies about election fraud,” Turner said.

“This bill was never about election security or voter integrity.;It was always about using the big lie to justify restricting access to the ballot box,” he said.

More:From polls to ballots, here’s what a new Texas voting bill would mean for you

Rep. Senfronia Thompson, D-Houston, a Black woman who recalled having to pay a poll tax to vote when she was young, said SB 1 was a continuation of an attack on the right to vote for nonwhite citizens.

“We have 90 days to act,” he said. “The clock is ticking.”

Utah Sen Mike Lee Votes Against 9/11 First Responders Bill After Losing Bid To Limit Spending

Why Ted Cruz Voted Against 9/11 Relief Funds | MSNBC

Sen. Mike Lee, R-Utah.

Washington The Senate passed a measure Tuesday extending for decades the fund for victims of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks after defeating an amendment by Sen. Mike Lee that would have limited the payout to about $20 billion over the life of the program.

The bill, which passed overwhelmingly in the Senate 97-2 and was previously approved by the House, now heads to President Donald Trump’s desk for his signature.

Lee, a Utah Republican, had held up the bill while attempting to curtail the expansion to only what is needed in the next decade. His amendment, shot down by a 32-66 vote, would have given $10.18 billion to the fund in the next 10 years and another $10 billion after that.

After his amendment failed, Lee voted against the final bill. Sen. Mitt Romney, R-Utah, supported the overall measure.

Lee walked off the floor shortly after it was clear his amendment didnt have the 60 votes it needed to pass.

His office declined to comment on the vote and pointed to a statement from last week when the senator said that the victims fund has had an excellent record avoiding waste and abuse and has always been funded for a time-certain extension.

These two things are not coincidental, he said in that statement. They go together.

The Senate also rejected an amendment by Sen. Rand Paul, R-Ky., that would have cut other programs to pay for extending the 9/11 fund. Paul cast the only other no vote.

You May Like: Who Are The Three Republicans Running Against Trump

Republicans Vote Against Awarding Medals To Police Who Defended Capitol

The House passed legislation on Tuesday to award Congressional Gold Medals; one of the highest civilian honors; to police officers who defended the Capitol during the violent Jan. 6 insurrection.

Lawmakers handily passed the legislation. Members of both parties supported it, 406-21, with all of the votes in opposition coming from conservative Republicans.

The four medals awarded under the bill would be displayed at the Capitol Police headquarters, at the D.C. Metropolitan Police headquarters, at the Smithsonian Institution and in a “prominent location” in the Capitol.

The medal displayed in the Capitol would be accompanied with a plaque listing all of the law enforcement agencies that helped protect the building on Jan. 6 from the mob of former President TrumpJoe BidenSpotlight turns to GOP’s McCarthy in Jan. 6 probeBiden visits union hall to mark Labor DayBiden approves disaster funds for NJ, NY after Ida floodingMOREs election victory.

The resolution names three police officers; Brian Sicknick and Howard Liebengood of the Capitol Police and;Jeffrey Smith of the Metropolitan Police; who died in the days after they were on duty at the Capitol on Jan. 6.

The measure states that their actions “exemplify the patriotism and the commitment of Capitol Police officers, and those of other law enforcement agencies, to risk their lives in service of our country.”

‘we’ll See You At The Polls’

But the bill’s House sponsor, Rep. Andrew Murr, R-Junction, said SB 1 was the product of more than 35 hours of House debate between the regular session that ended in May and two special sessions.

“We all strive for improvement, and I believe that’s what we’re looking at with this legislation, is improving the Election Code of Texas,” Murr said, his voice scratchy from almost 13 hours of debate Thursday over SB 1.

Moments before the House took its final vote on SB 1, Rep. Harold Dutton, D-Houston, engaged Murr in a back-and-forth discussion on the House floor.

“Do you think there’s fraud in Texas elections?” Dutton asked.

“Generally speaking, I;think there is always a likelihood of fraud,” Murr replied. “We have;seen past examples of fraud.”

Dutton ended with an acknowledgement that the fight over SB 1 was almost over, but he said a larger fight is looming: “We’re going to;go;vote, and so we’ll see you at the polls.”

Once the House names its five members to the conference committee, they will negotiate a final version of SB 1 that will need to be approved;by both chambers.

The bill’s author, Sen. Bryan Hughes, R-Mineola, said Friday that;he will determine the next step after;studying House changes.

Also Check: How Many Republicans Are Against Trump

DOJ wades in against Texas abortion ban

Attorney General Merrick Garland said Monday that the Justice Department would protect women seeking an abortion in Texas as the agency explores ways to challenge one of the most restrictive laws in the nation. In a statement, Garland said the department would protect those seeking to obtain or provide reproductive health services pursuant to our criminal and civil enforcement of the law known as the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act.

The announcement from the Justice Department comes days after the conservative-majority Supreme Court declined to block the Texas law that bans abortion as early as six weeks into a pregnancy, with no exceptions for rape or incest. The law also allows anyone to file a lawsuit against any other person who has aided someone in obtaining an abortion, with the potential for a $10,000 payoff.

The Internet responds

Pro-choice users on TikTok and;Reddit;have launched a guerrilla effort to thwart Texass extreme new abortion law, flooding an online tip website that encourages people to report violators of the law with false reports, Shrek memes and porn.

The law makes it illegal to help women in;Texas;access abortion after the sixth week of pregnancy. To help enforce it, anti-abortion group Texas Right to Life established the digital tipline where people can send anonymous information about potential violations.

A Legislative Win But At What Cost

As the bill now heads to the president’s desk for final signature, advocates and living survivors can’t help but think the battle was won but at the expense of hundreds of their brothers in arms.

In the process of the reauthorization, over 200 firefighters and first responders died as a result of cancers and other medical ailments related to the 2001 terror attacks.;

The daughter of William Gormley, a former New York City firefighter who died after his own battle with cancer in 2017, told CBS that her family had filed a claim for benefits from the victims fund immediately after her father’s death and was assured that the money would be there.

“They went back on their promise but they had to. It was better for everyone to get a little money than no one at all,” Bridget Gormley said.

Gormley says the fund was unfortunately a “victim of its own success” after the fund quickly ran out of money because of a rise in cancer-related illnesses in the 9/11 community.;

“This is not going to be a cause for celebration,” Gormley noted importantly. “We unfortunately have to learn some lessons form our failures in this situation. It’ll be a milestone but it’ll serve as a testament to the first responders who fought.”

Recommended Reading: What Were The Reconstruction Goals Of The Radical Republicans

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grison-in-space · 6 years

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So I'm rereading all the Don Strachey books again because I forgot how much I loved them

...and I forgot what an absolute cat Timmy can be.

Timothy Callahan is of course Don's firmly on-again lover, usually described as as a fussy, well-manicured Irish-Catholic gentleman with strong opinions about politics and ethics and also a tendency to be outraged at wastefulness. Think an American and all too human version of Good Omen’s Aziraphale. So I mentioned earlier that there's an ongoing tension in the earlier novels about whether Don can manage monogamy with all that gorgeous ass floating around Albany, NY? Yeah, cut for more on that--I, ah, left out a bit of nuance there.

Also, I left out a lot about things I love about these books, so there is more gushing about complicated but human relationships

Yeah, I forgot to mention that Timmy also has a distinct gift for successfully sleeping with very specific people when he's especially annoyed with Don over the whole thing in order to make a very, very pointed commentary on Don’s habits. And at one point, in an argument when he’s particularly angry, gets out of the car Don is driving, sticks his fingers down his throat, and aggressively projectile vomits at Don to make a point.

(Don totally deserved it.)

(I’m occasionally reminded of @ladypolaris‘ writing of Kraglin, to be honest.)

God, a thing I love about this series is that it’s very deliberately written to show off a solid, committed relationship where both characters know it’s a good, solid, committed relationship... and yet there’s still tensions within the relationship, there’s still ongoing arguments and bits where Don is being a giant cranky whiner about the fact that it’s winter in Albany, Timmy, being cold is the worst, and Timmy is just totally done with him and tells him to quit being a whiny shit about it.

And at the same time there’s these silly moments like this:

He got up and brought me a beer. I grunted benevolently. He sat down again and picked at his chili.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said after a moment. “You quit acting churlish with me and I’ll quit acting churlish with you. I understand that you hate the cold weather, and you’re between cases, and you’re bored with Albany, and with me, and with yourself — and that the AIDS situation has put a crimp in your normal abnormal outlets. But all this tension is getting me down, and there’s no point in both of us being miserable. I know you feel too rotten to act sweet naturally, or even just civil, but do me a favor and fake it part of the time. I’ll be grateful, and I’ll bet you’ll feel better too.”

“What? What’s that you say? You want me to periodically hide my precious inner feelings? As if after all these years Dr. Joyce Brothers’s column turned out to be simpleminded charlatanry?”

“Yes, bottle up your negative emotions in a neurotically unhealthy way. For my sake. Just off and on until spring. Your springtime emotions I like a lot.”

I took a long swig of beer. “I don’t know, Timothy. I have to tell you, this is a bolt out of the blue. Your proposition is not something I ever dreamed I’d be faced with when we began sharing hearth and home and Vaseline jar. I’m going to have to give this one a lot of thought.”

“Don — I’m serious. Really.”

I ate the chili and drank the beer and grimly considered what he had said. As usual, he had me. A student of Jesuits, Timmy could play fast and loose on the larger matters, up to a point, but on the conduct of human affairs he was pathologically astute and rational.

I said, “Look, I know you’re right. I hate this town in winter with its wind and cold and sooty snow, and all those moral pygmies in charge of the place. But taking it out on you is unfair, and I’ll try moderately hard not to do it anymore.Try, I said. A small maniacal outburst once in a great while is still okay, right?”

“Of course. It’s all right with me if we both remain human. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now get me another beer.”

“Get it yourself, Kramden,” he said, and laughed but didn’t get up.

I got myself another beer.

Which might be one of the best depictions of an actual established relationship discussing existing dynamics that I’ve ever seen. It’s all too rare in any media to get to see that kind of firmness under teasing when one person establishes some boundaries about behavior with a beloved significant other, much less to get to see it between two gay men living in an objectively fairly difficult time and place to be gay.

(Remember--they might be living in New York, but these guys aren’t living in NYC, they’re living in the state capital of Albany. There’s legitimately another character who moans to Don repeatedly that “to get any action, you gotta drive out to Troy, or maybe Elmira.” Upstate New York is not by any means NYC, and it certainly wasn’t at the time the books were being written, when Albany politics were famed for their corruption.)

And then there’s the thing where in the very first book when we meet Don and Timmy, they’re noted to be about forty. They age in a way that is kind of absurd in terms of the passage of real-world time--I think Don manages to be about fifty or maybe a well-aged sixty by the time of the last book I’ve read, which was written in 2011. I believe Don started life out as a gentleman approximately the same age as Mr. Stevenson, his author, but I’d imagine writing about the adventures of a 79-year-old got alarmingly close to home, and so Don ages (as Mr. Stevenson wryly comments) at “a rate of about one year for every two or three for the rest of us.”

Anyway, my point is that there’s literally no point in these novels, written over the course of almost forty years, in which Don and Timmy’s relationship is between two young people; they’ve been very explicitly middle-aged this whole time, and that’s another thing you don’t get to see in fiction much. It’s comforting to see the romance of the middle-aged, you know? Don explicitly didn’t come out until some time in his thirties, and there’s a lot of compassionate and rather sweet depictions of older folks who are by no means dead within the community. The second book actually revolves around the relationship of two lesbians in their sixties and seventies. (There aren’t as many women as I’d like in Don’s world, of course, but Steveson is very, very clear about the fact that his community was not an all-male one--which is refreshing to me, honestly.)

And so we get exchanges like this one as Timmy discusses his plan to walk to his office:

“I’ll shovel the walk first.”

“Lift with your arms and not with your back. That’s what the radio said. You’re past forty now and might have a heart attack.”

“Nah, I’m twenty-seven. I’ll always be twenty-seven.”

I kissed him on the little bald spot on the back of his head and left him to his bowl of mush.

I love them. (These snippets are both from Ice Blues, which I happen to be reading now.)

#don strachey books #reading #profic #novels

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singloveandsage · 4 years

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When I was in grade ten I made a speech in front of my entire English class about how I passionately believed Cosima De Vito deserved to proceed further in the Australian Idol competition over the likes of Shannon Noll and Paulini. No one else cared in the same hyper way I did at the time and I have no idea why I was allowed to spontaneously take to the front of the class and start babbling away in an absolute fever state, spreading my intense perspective on such a meaningless topic, none the less, it actually happened. This week, the same heightened state of needing to voice my raging river of thoughts has reared its head in regards to something in a similar vein - a television program I watched. Except this time it’s more so an inner conflict I’m having with myself and my understanding of grander themes in story telling and art in general and at it’s core, my care for two characters whom I believe could have made it, if the writer had wanted them to. So to start things off with, here are my overall conclusions on the matter. One, we can’t control everything, least of all someone else’s story they wrote (write your own), two, not everything is about you Tess and finally, it’s just a tv show. So now we’ve got that out of the way, read on as I take to the front of the class again for no good reason but to voice my own concern, because if I don’t, I’ll implode.

Yesterday on the Scorpio full moon I binge watched the television series ‘Normal People’ and this morning I am attempting to sweep up the remaining pieces of myself from the floor. I am well and truly effected by this story.

Scorpio energy is all sex, death, sensuality and mystery and I was confronted with all of it yesterday. I have come out of the series metaphorically post coital, shattered, confused and reeling.

It’s a romance, a tale of two students who have a secret affair during their last year of high school. Eventually they go their seperate ways but their paths continue in the same direction as they attend the same university and the story evolves as does their relationship with its many ups and downs, ins and outs and on and off agains.

The characters are written impeccably, the chemistry is outrageous, the rhythm and intention in their dialogue is spell casting and the dynamic of these two unlikely individuals evolving in various settings together and witnessing the moments they create by being in relationship is utterly beautiful and dismantling. Hear me when I say, I loved the series and am beyond impressed by the layered genius of this love story.

However.

I am equally crushed and brought to my knees as I sit with the notion of portrayed romance and what it is exactly and why romance is exactly. I am struggling with desiring its spell and intoxication but no longer willing to pay for insatiability and destruction.

Normal People is archetypically in the same realm as Romeo and Juliet and every time this narrative of young romance is told I experience this human hunger being affirmed, signalling to me what is engrained in our psyche as the thing we should all be seeking. It almost evokes hysteria for heat that can never nourish but we crave at any cost, what ever age we find ourselves. Too far to say it’s like emotional or psychic porn?

I feel we are endlessly sold this narrative in all story telling art forms and I’m seeing it now clearer than ever as being cut from the same cloth as the god sized hole within.

We are conditioned by fairytales, we are familiar with this, the fables where girls learn their path is to be pretty, youthful, pleasing, Daddy’s little girl, needing to be saved, fulfilment is in a wedding and the buzz of loves first kiss etc. And boys learn their path is to remain a more often then not, spoiled, entitled prince, independent, made to conquer, and defeat and claim a maiden, contain her through marriage etc. Then the vision we are left with is the symbol of romance being two youths experiencing intimacy for the first time and committed to this ideal within the symbol of a wedding.

But of course we never see what happens after the beginning, what follows the season of spring in our love life. It’s not reflected in art or told in stories with anywhere near the thirst of spring. There is no rite of passage signalling us towards romance that doesn’t destroy us in the end. There are no famous characters or archetypes for the summer, autumn or winter in relationships and the alchemy of love that takes place over time or show cases the importance that it in fact can and does evolve.

Even in Normal People, which is no fairy tail but in the first few episodes it sets us up with the euphoria of their new romance as well as our high hopes that they will go the distance because they clearly have a divine connection that most of us are seeking and time and time again both leading characters say, “it’s not like this with other people”, meaning this is special, it’s worth saving, it’s once in a life time, it’s not a regular thing to find this type of love.

But, as time goes on, we see other seasons and sides of their connection and as stories go, to keep our interest and engagement, they cannot make it work. I found the abandonment of their connection overwhelm me with grief, because, why can’t it work? And why can’t we show it working? I understand we need conflict, drama, tension, entertainment, a force pushing the narrative forward, but, what is this perpetual wheel of love stories doing for the psyche of each generation? Is it even possible for us to have characters and examples that have the heat and depth but can last through the chaos of life?

Side note, a few things: I personally believe it’s a persons rite of passage to walk into the fire of romance time and time again as we forge ourselves into our full potential and highest truth but I don’t believe in staying in toxic relationships or remaining in maiden/prince repressing our maturing. Yes, I say explore, experiment and expand, this is life, we get it once as these characters, love as much and as often as possible, but, seek out your wisdom and medicine in love over continuously drinking poison. Also, there is no one way or right way to love. Love is not a ladder we climb, nor is life and basically do what ever the hell you like. But -

I just feel called to express the alarm system currently going off through out my entire being that is alerting me to the programming and conditioning that occurs every time we digest love stories that either showcase a cookie cutter fairy tale fantasy pedestaling one season of our love life OR a soul connection that inevitably ends up on the floor in shards or sees two people shrinking away in defeat, it’s depressing!

Then we could also get into the fact we sweep the love stories and relationship wisdom of people at middle age and in their elder years under the rug, we make it near impossible for their stories to be shared in wide spread art forms so we lose potent medicine that could be honoured and shared and reveal an enlightening and entirely different perspective on love that might help guide us to a healthier but equally engaging romantic life.

But I won’t, for now I will just say I am coming to terms with my own relationship to romance as an energy and the way I see it being portrayed and that it bothers me and all I see is the shadow aspect of romantic love being reflected back to me. That, or cheesy, patriarchal cliches.

I’m mindful of what fire I am fuelling when I allow myself to be engaged in the spring element of romance portrayed in entertainment and whether it’s benefiting me or quite possibly imprisoning me to a narrative that I then crave like a drug or become a slave to because it’s the only story I’ve come to trust because I continuously, willingly witness it.

Is it even possible to write and show case alternative love stories that are passionate as well as thrilling and enticing but they nourish and evolve both parties? Or is romance inextricably unfulfilling and we either have to cut it short or watch it dissolve?

I feel there is a seed deep within me, it’s been there all this time and has been whispering to me my entire life for a new narrative to be shared and celebrated across all art forms and yesterday it seemed to call out louder than ever before.

“I am not here to be a two dimensional illustration of something that shouldn’t be defined and I am not here to be a shadow casted over your life or something that you need to chase and cage. I am infinite potential that you can dance with, co-create with, accept my invitation or colour your existence with. I am here for you, I can heal you if you allow me and I am not just something that happens to you or not. I’m everywhere.”

I guess I’m just upset that it appears we are forced to either perish by the hands of romance and passion or we are stunted by it or we lose sight of our truth from staring at it too long like the sun. Romance and passionate connection is raw, radiant, blue flamed and electric. Indeed it is power and perhaps it’s the power of it that has always sent human beings into a frenzy, so we try and tame it like we do a wild horse or watch on at the demise of beloved characters.

I just need to believe there’s more characters and archetypes for our love stories that don’t need us to burn alive or simply go stale or end before the journey even beings and instead we see that we are the instrument for romance to flow through freely and there can be fulfilling tales of heat and sexuality that find harmony and completion. Because in real life we are made for it to happen and it can and does happen for us but it’s rarely reflected back to us on the screen or the page.

So in closing, I believe the lovers in Normal People could have made it work, no, I say they should have made it work and yet the writer denied us of this, why?

Because one, we can’t control everything least of all someone else’s story they wrote (write your own), two, not everything is about you Tess and finally, it’s just a tv show.

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lost-corner · 7 years

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I saw Dead Men Tell No Tales last Friday and I’m still reeling from the Willabeth feels. However, the post-credits scene, which was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my life, also outraged upset me because I felt that the appearance of a certain character (that makes literally no sense even if you choose to go along with the dubious logic of the film) was an unnecessary addition that ruined what would otherwise have been an absolutely perfect scene - so I decided to tweak it a little bit.

Willabeth, one-shot. Contains spoilers for DMTNT, so if you haven’t seen the film, this is your warning.

A storm is raging outside, heavy drops of rain beating against the window, wind blowing in through the window they left ajar to keep away the smouldering heat. In his dream, he is back on the Dutchman. The souls he has neglected to take care of throng the deck of the ship, their dull eyes full of unspoken accusation that consumes him. He has failed, and because of his heedlessness they are indefinitely trapped between two worlds, forever doomed to roam the passage between them, never to be afforded the luxury of moving on; a fate he of all people knows to be worse than death. What have I done?

The eerie silence is abruptly disturbed by the sound of measured, uneven footsteps – one a heavy thud, the other barely audible – and Will’s breath catches in his throat as he notices Davy Jones walking towards him, a sly grin plastered on his face, his watery eyes glinting menacingly in the darkness. He comes so close that Will can feel the salty breath on his skin.

‘The Dutchman must have a captain, Master Turner.’

Jones’s humourless laugh is still ringing in Will’s ears as he wakes up with a start. For a split second, he is completely disoriented, and before his eyes adjust to the darkness, the now-familiar interior of their bedroom morphs into the captain’s cabin. And then it all comes flooding back: Henry’s beaming face when he handed him the necklace; Elizabeth rushing down the hill towards him. He looks over to the other side of the bed and relief washes over him when he finds her there, her head nestled into the crook of her arm, sleeping peacefully. It’s been a month, but he doubts he will ever get used to her just being there, within arm’s reach; after nearly twenty years of hopeless, suffocating loneliness, sharing a bed with her seems too good to be true. Now that he’s back, it’s the little, mundane things he loves the most; tokens of normalcy they were deprived of for such a long time: watching her brush her hair in the morning; the melody she hums as she expertly trims the wicks; the mischievous smirk on her face when she tries to cheat him and Henry at card games. She is perfect, and every day he is grateful to his son – the son who fills him with more pride than he can put into words – for being as insufferably stubborn as his mother and giving him the life he has always dreamt of. He will never be able to repay either of them.

The urge to hold her is overwhelming; he reaches over and wraps his arm around her, pulling her towards him. Her arm instinctively curls around his shoulders and she mumbles something incoherent. He smiles and lightly kisses her forehead.

‘Will?’

She is awake now, her eyes still cloudy with drowsiness. Although she can only just make out his features in the dark room, the uneasiness written on his face doesn’t escape her. She doesn’t need to ask what it is about; he has been haunted by nightmares of the Dutchman ever since he came back. He is still unable to bring himself to talk about his service, so she doesn’t yet realise the full extent of the damage the plagued ship wrought on him, but in spite of his attempts to conceal it from her and Henry, it’s clear that the memories are still affecting him a lot more than he’s willing to admit. She, too, sometimes dreams that he is taken away from her, trapped once more at the bottom of the sea, and there is nothing she can do to get him back; but those nightmares are rare, and every time she wakes up from one, Will is always there to reassure her.

Gently, she runs her fingers down the side of his face and the tenderness of her touch releases the tension in his muscles. His body relaxes into the pillows; he closes his eyes.

‘It’s all right,’ she whispers. ‘You’re back; you’re back and you’re not going anywhere. It’s all right.’

Before he kisses her, he replies: ‘I know.’

#pirates of the caribbean #potc #potc5 #dead men tell no tales #spoilers #dmtnt spoilers #willabeth #will turner #elizabeth swann #fanfiction

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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Why Did Republicans Vote Against The First Responders Bill

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-did-republicans-vote-against-the-first-responders-bill/

Why Did Republicans Vote Against The First Responders Bill