#and I warn you all that it's based on being unhinged and doing exclusively what brings me joy :)

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Inutilia Truncat

Pairing: Sketchbook (Kaisa/Johanna)

Summary: Inutilia truncat: one of the five latim mottos of the arcadist, or neoclassical movement. Literally translates to "cut out that which is not useful"

Kaisa is an English and History major in the University of Trolberg. Her biggest pride has always been excelling in everything she set herself to, at whatever cost. One of her seminars, however, has been a hinderance to her, leaving the girl with no choice but to swallow her pride and seek out the one person who seems to know what they're doing better than her.

Notes: YAAAAAAAY I'm posting again!! You guys, You've no idea how freaking happy I was when the idea for this fic struck me in like, late November (thanks to that flower anon, whose fic I still want to read :’)) and I was able to write again. I hope you enjoy this as much as I've been enjoying working on it

Also, amazing news!! For the first time ever, I have a beta reader! Huuuuge thank you to @waddles-ex-machina for not only letting me ramble to her about this verse, but also for proof reading this so kindly. You made the process of working on this fic even more fun <3

One last thing before I allow you to go on and read it, please be mindful that all of my knowledge on the inner workings of universities outside of my country comes from reading other college aus and watching Monster’s University. And that is *it*. So I am asking you to suspend your disbelief and focus on the gays instead of the logic

Read it on ao3

Kaisa barely refrained from snapping the pencil she was holding in two. It had happened again.

Of course, what she did instead was take a deep breath and swiftly wriggle her way out of the mass of students that were heading to the English department’s notice board. It wasn’t out of shame that she went away; regardless of not being in the top of that class, her score had been high enough to be proud of, even for her. Rather, it was because being in the middle of a crowd only ever made her feel uncomfortable, and because with her current state of nerves she wouldn’t put it past her to snap one of her classmates in half.

And it was all because of her.

Kaisa had spent her first two years in college delighting in the classes taught by professors who shared their scores publicly. Up until now, she had been consistently getting the highest grades out of everyone who took the same disciplines as her, acing every test and perfectly completing every assignment. Any voices who insisted that she hadn’t deserved her scholarship, that she wasn’t smart enough, that her getting upper education was a waste of time had either been silenced or become inaudible in the bubble of self satisfaction that Kaisa had painstakingly managed to submerge herself in. 

That is, of course, until she signed up for the neoclassicism seminar this semester and had begun constantly getting lower grades than that damned Art History major. Kaisa had nothing against her, personally. Though the girl’s far-too-bright personality had startled her on their first day of class - nothing wrong with the greeting, Kaisa just wasn’t used to people on campus talking to her for no apparent reason, and really, why did this random student introduce herself to her on the first day completely out of the blue? - she hadn’t given much thought to her until the first grade came out on the History department’s notice board. Kaisa’s essay, which she had worked on through the night until it was flawless in her eyes, had still scored lower than that of the person she’d begun to think of as Golden Retriever Girl.

It wasn’t that Kaisa didn’t know her name. After so many graded assignments (and this professor in particular liked them a lot), she’d had enough chances to stare at Golden Retriever Girl’s name to memorise it five times over. And Johanna Magnolia Pearson would somehow, magically, inexplicably, always score higher than Kaisa.

Though the first few times it had happened Kaisa had only swallowed down her frustration and promised herself to work harder next time, it had become a bothersome pattern and something that was actually causing her irritation even when she wasn’t actively thinking about it. It was, therefore, something she had to fix immediately, because an irritated mind can’t focus, can’t be productive, and can only disappoint. 

If she talked to Tildy, the woman who had been her mother for as long as her mind could remember, and the very reason she had been given a chance at university, she was sure she’d be dismissed as worrying over a non-issue, and be told she should be proud to be the second best student on the seminar. She couldn’t blame her for it; Tildy had been with her all the time, but she hadn’t lived her life. She couldn’t know what it was like to have to prove yourself all the time to the people around you.

So she couldn’t go to Tildy, which meant she had to solve it herself. And though she could try simply copying Golden Retriever Girl’s actions - sitting in the front seats, asking lots of questions and being extremely active in class discussions - that couldn’t possibly be where she was failing, since her trustworthy seat at the back corners and her strategy of silently observing and jotting down notes on her notebook had never failed her on any of her other disciplines. Neither did she think that muscling through this course even harder was the answer. If she pushed herself any harder, Kaisa was actually afraid she might faint, and that would definitely affect her efficiency.

Bracing herself for the task ahead, Kaisa balled her fists by her side and stiffly walked down the two flights of stairs that led to the courtyard, leaving the mass of desperate students behind her fighting to see their grades. If she wanted to talk to anyone else in her seminar, she’d simply wait for them by the notice board until they managed to get a glimpse at their score on their latest exam. But not Golden Retriever Girl. No, for some reason, she never stayed to look at the score sheet with all of their grades as soon as they were divulged like the rest of them, instead climbing down those stairs to head to places unknown after every single lecture. Not that Kaisa had been observing her. That would have been creepy.

The Humanities building, unlike the other ones in their university, was very quaint and old-styled, due to it having been the first to be built, shortly after the founding of Trolberg. Kaisa climbed down the stone stairs, and the tall ceilings made her steps echo. Autumn had barely begun, so it was still relatively warm outside and the inside was fresh without having to be cooled. The scent of grass became noticeable once the first flight was over, making Kaisa realise that she was probably going to enter the building’s gardens for the first time since she began studying there. She had known it was there, she could see it through the windows, but they didn’t lead anywhere in particular and she never had time to dedicate to admiring them, so it had simply slipped her mind to go meet the grounds.

She supposed that would change today.

The staircase ended in a corridor which had on its left side a wall filled with rows of classroom doors, and on the right a few columns for supporting the ceiling with stone benches between them. Students occupied some of those, reading or listening to music on their headphones or furiously typing away on their notebooks, but Kaisa did not recognize on any of them the head of auburn curls she was looking for.

The garden was beautiful, that was the first thing she noticed once she stepped outside into it. The grass was well kept and neat paths filled with gravel led to a fountain in the middle. The Humanities building surrounded it on all sides, making it a rectangular haven in the middle of it. But it was a contained, boring sort of beauty if you asked Kaisa. There were no butterflies or any other sort of more interesting animal in sight, the ground had been cleaned off of any typical autumn leaves, and its little flower beds certainly paled when compared to the wildflowers in Tildy’s yard.

But still, Kaisa supposed, it was nice. The little Tildy voice in her head told her to stop being such a grump, and she could see why people would like to spend their time there. 

Following the gravel path in front of her with her gaze, she spotted the person she had been looking for right on the edge of the fountain, shoulders hunched forward and immersed in whatever it was that she was writing on the sketchbook she was holding. That’s what she couldn’t even wait until she saw the test’s results to do?, Kaisa thought bitterly.

She knew her bitterness wasn’t directed at miss Golden Retriever, though. It was at herself, for not doing better, and at the fact that someone was doing so well in their class seemingly without feeling like they were selling their soul to their studies like Kaisa did. So she bit down on her tongue, twisting her ring around her finger like she usually did when nervous or bored, and stepped onto the gravel, feeling and hearing it crunch under her boots with each step. This was the mature thing to do. Better to get it done already, quick, easy and (mostly) painless.

When Kaisa got close enough that her feet were noticeable in the girl’s field of vision, Johanna’s writing hand became still and she lifted her eyes to her, removing her earphones when she realised that the person she was seeing was coming in her direction, and honest to God smiling when she recognized who exactly that was. It wasn’t a wide, toothy grin but it felt just as bright, lifting the corner of her lips high and making the skin over her cheekbones flush only slightly. Kaisa wavered for a moment. After their first interaction, she hadn’t ever talked to that woman again. She had absolutely no business looking that happy to see her, and neither had her heart in doing such a stupid little somersault in the face of her smile.

“Hi!” Golden Retriever Girl greeted warmly. Kaisa was coming to wonder if that was the only way she knew how to do things.

“Hello.” Kaisa shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly self-conscious and rethinking this whole interaction. Why had she thought this was a good idea? This was stupid. She was stupid. What was she doing, acting like her being the best student on campus was something that the universe owed to her? Was she really so immature? She should have taken this to therapy, for fuck’s sake, not to the classmate she had only ever exchanged five words with.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” The golden retriever cut through her train of thought, bringing Kaisa back to the present and preventing her from spiralling further down. “I don’t usually see you around the gardens, though. What brings you here?”

Had Kaisa been a bit more grounded, she would have noticed the implicit ‘I pay attention to whether or not you’re around’ hidden in Johanna’s words. That not being the case, however, she was only able to notice (and be thoroughly confused at) how Johanna sat up straighter and tapped the place next to her on the fountain’s edge when she, with all the dignity she could muster, informed her that she had come looking for Johanna, actually.

“Well, it’s good to talk to you again, Kaisa!” Closer now that she had sat down besides her, Kaisa could see that Johanna looked like she truly meant it. Her smile hadn’t once left her face, and she had grown even more flushed. She wondered if maybe it was the heat, even though the sun was already setting and Johanna was sitting on a place which the building cast a shadow over. Even though it was not hot at all. “Forgive me, but what is it you study, again? You told me when we met, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”

Kaisa had not, in fact, told her what she studied. When the Golden Retriever Girl had introduced herself on their first seminar, she had been too stunned that someone with so much energy was talking to her (or, even more pathetically, that anyone at all who didn’t want something from her was talking to her), that she hadn’t really aced that social interaction. She had said her name when asked (and was surprised to find out now that the girl remembered, even if she herself had memorized her full name), but when Johanna said she was an Arts History major, Kaisa herself had only said “cool” and continued to try and find a place in her used and almost-full textbook for that subject. Which, in hindsight, had probably been why Johanna had given up on trying to talk and had left to find her seat.

Why had Kaisa thought that this was a good idea, again?

“I’m on English and History.” She said, and Johanna let out an appreciative hum. It looked like Golden Retriever was about to try and begin to make small talk around that, but before she could Kaisa spoke up again. “This may seem a bit random, but I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Oh!” A glimpse of disappointment crossed Johanna’s eyes for just a second, and the left corner of her lip twitched just so, but Kaisa was completely unaware. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

As she asked it, Golden closed her sketchbook, and in doing so brought Kaisa’s attention to it. Now that she was closer, she could see for a split second that in it weren’t writings as she had thought, but drawings. She supposed that made sense, given the girl’s area of studies.

Kaisa didn’t feel the need to clarify which class it was that they took together, since Golden Retriever Girl seemed to remember her, so she went straight to the point.

“You’re doing well at the seminar.” She began, looking straight forward and not at the expectant face by her side. If looking at people’s eyes already made her lose focus normally, it was especially so when that person already unnerved her in any way. And especially so when said person’s eyes were a mesmerizingly beautiful shade of hazel when observed closely. “Like, exceedingly well. Phenomenally. I never see you stay and look at the grades, so I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but you had the best grade in class on every graded activity so far. The results for our first exam are just out, by the way. You did it again. Congratulations, an impressive 9,5 on that honestly evil test.”

Not before Kaisa could worry about coming across as creepy for knowing her score, but before she could apologise for it, the girl laughed. Not a full belly sound, but a cute little snort that she seemed to have been holding back.

“You must think I’m so laid back! I always come here after the seminar because it’s dusk, and it’s honestly so gorgeous from here that I don’t want to lose it. But after the sun is set I always climb back there and see the results. Thank you for telling me, though, I had been worried about that exam. I don’t think the professor had our best interests in mind when she wrote it, honestly.”

Kaisa made an agreeing sound with the back of her throat. A part of her wanted to rush to assure that she hadn’t thought of Johanna as lazy or happy-go-lucky in any way, but that wasn’t actually true. Besides, the curious and honest part of her brain won out over the social skills part of her brain in the end (though, given past experiences, she wondered if her brain even had a social skills sector at all).

“Why, though? I mean, the buildings block the view from all sides, it’s not like you can actually see the sunset. The sky gets some pretty colours, but can’t you see those from the windows?”

Beside her, Johanna chuckled. Kaisa heard the sound close to her ear, and felt the small rush of air from her mouth on her skin. When she turned, she saw the glimmer on Golden’s eyes. It felt weird, being that close to someone. And it felt new, that the chuckle hadn’t sounded diminishing, or ironic, but rather like she was looking at something sweet. Like Kaisa was something pure and worth protecting.

“Look around.” Golden whispered, and Kaisa did, trying her best to see it through her eyes. The students coming out of their classrooms all around them. The gentle chatter of friends who were meeting to study together, or to carpool home. The beginnings of an evening breeze toying with the ends of their hair. The soft light that made even the well-trimmed trees look mysterious, and their nearly completely golden leaves glow.

Oh.

There was a moment of extreme softness, watching all the beauty around them, its mundanity making it no less special, and even a bit more so. If they were in a movie, it would be a cue for sweet classical music to begin playing, Kaisa thought, symbolising a growing bond between the two protagonists or whatever. She wasn’t a cinema major. So, of course, she ruined it by clearing her throat and going back to the task at hand.

If she was anything like a movie protagonist, she wouldn’t have lost her top-of-every-class title, now, would she?

“You have a point. Anyway, I came here to ask you if you have any tips for studying this subject. I generally draw schemes while reading the textbook and then look for practice exercises. It has worked well so far, but clearly you have something that works better. You don’t have to share it if you don’t want to, of course, but if there’s any tips you could give me, I’d be grateful.”

Golden Retriever Girl only stared at her for a beat, her silence making Kaisa retrace her words and wonder if she’d said anything offensive. When her answer came, it startled her enough to make Kaisa turn to glare at her.

“I don’t do anything special. I just enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it?” Kaisa asked with the tone of someone who felt like there had been an attempt to fool her, and hadn’t fallen for it. Golden gave no signs of falsehood, though. She only shrugged and turned her eyes down to the closed sketchbook on her lap, twirling her pencil around.

“Yeah. I relate a lot to neoclassicism. I spent my first years in my grandfather’s cottage out in the wilderness, so all the paintings of farm life feel familiar to me. Like they’re images that are close to my heart. Also the fugere urbem feeling in the writings speak really deeply to me, I had a hard time adapting when my parents brought me over to Trolberg when I was a child. I think that’s all there is, really. My study strategy doesn’t come close to being as neat as yours. I just… enjoy it.”

It shouldn’t have left Kaisa speechless, but it did. She didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like it was something out of this world. She herself had chosen her major, and this seminar, because of affinity, but somewhy it simply hadn’t crossed her mind that passion alone could get you that far. Which wasn’t to say that the Golden Retriever Girl (and really, she had been talking to her for a full five minutes, so maybe she should stop thinking about her that way) didn’t put in the effort; her behaviour in class alone was enough to tell Kaisa that that wasn’t the case. But being told that actually, that was the secret to her success wasn’t something she had even considered. Hell, most times Kaisa was so busy studying for all her classes she actually forgot that she had ever enjoyed her subjects to begin with.

“I see.” She said, hoping to not seem rude to the person who by this point already had reasons to think she was a stalker. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Johanna had taken offence.

“You don’t seem convinced.” She said playfully. “I have something to suggest. Why don’t we have our next study session for this seminar together?”

This snapped Kaisa out of her surprised haze.

“For real?”

“I mean, yeah, why not? If you’d like it, that is. I know some people only study well alone, and I totally respect it if that’s your case. But if you’d like to give it a go, I’m sure it would be fun. And you’d get to see how my studying isn’t nearly as effective as yours.”

She was smirking at her, and looking like she was actually hoping for Kaisa to say yes, for some reason. And though all her instincts told her to come up with an excuse to not do it, she couldn’t actually think of a single reason why that was a bad idea.

“Sure.”

Johanna blinked, and Kaisa realised that though she had been hoping for it, Johanna hadn’t actually expected her to say yes.

That’s what you get for ignoring someone who tries to make small talk on the first day.

“Great!” Golden chirped. “You free on Saturday?”

Kaisa mentally opened her schedule in her mind’s eye. Saturday was when the Sparrow Scouts had events, sometimes. She couldn’t remember if the one Frida had asked her to tag along to was this one or the next.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I think my little sister asked me to go with her to a scouts thing, but I could have gotten the date wrong. I get really confused with my appointments when I have exams, it feels like my mind erases any information unrelated to them. Can I check that and get back to you?”

“Sure! Give me your hand.”

Kaisa blinked with surprise. Partly because she had half been expecting Johanna to give up on the idea. After all, why would she bother insisting on something she’d get nothing out of? Mostly, though, because being asked to give her her hand hadn’t really seemed to have been in the realm of possible answers. She did as she was told, however, and Kaisa watched as Johanna picked a ball-point pen from her jacket’s breast pocket and took it to her palm.

Too confused and focused on watching Golden Retriever Girl’s face to see what she was writing, Kaisa didn’t notice what it was right away. After having finished, she let her go and smiled once more.

“There you go! Text me or call me when you have the answer, whichever you prefer. I’ll see you around?”

She probably wouldn’t see her around, that was the only class they were taking together that semester and it only happened once a week, but Kaisa found herself nodding anyway. Having completed her goal (sort of), she stood up just as the first lamps began being turned on around them. It wasn’t nearly as pretty anymore with the artificial light, but somehow Johanna’s smile didn’t look any less bright. Kaisa bid her goodnight and got a “goodbye” handwave in response, walking away before she could fully process that interaction, and way before she allowed herself to interpret her emotions during it.

It was only when she was taking the long walk home, practically alone on the sidewalk of the highway that connected their campus to the city, that it occurred to her to check what had been written on her skin before she put on her noise canceling headphones and begun listening to a recording of the Advanced Grammar lecture she’d had in the morning.

She pulled back her sweater, which had only not been covering the tips of her fingers, to find a phone number and a winky face. Underneath, she had written “Jo from the seminar”, as if Kaisa could possibly forget.

That girl was insane, that was Kaisa’s verdict. When she got home and told this story to Tildy, she’d be advised to let this insanity rub off on her a bit, it would do her good.

And well, she had gone to her to learn her secret, hadn’t she?

[obsidiancreates]

From Regular Wednesday To Regular Whimsday

(I still haven't watched past 41 in OUAW, I keep just restarting it, so for the OUAW gang this is just some unspecified time in the swamps of Hither.)

It starts with Witchlight, of course. A patch of mushrooms, a mysterious artifact that could reportedly "open doors to new worlds of possibilities", and the whims of a 20 year old with ADHD and the ability to write whatever the fuck xey want.

And so the artifact shatters in the patch of Witchlight, and Carnival LeCroux find themselves faced with six deeply confused, highly concerned, and bafflingly identical humans.

"Well this is diffrrrent," Torbek says, scratching his head. "Isn't it usually uuus who Witchlight messeees withhh?"

"Must've been that orb thing!" Kremy searches the mud below them by poking his cane around in it.

"Roman, what is this?" The human in the dark shirt and blue-striped tie asks the one in the white-and-red royal-like getup.

"Don't look at me." Roman points at a human with a similar but more elaborate outfit of green and black. "Whatever this horrid imagining is, it must be Remus!"

"Oh, thank you, brother, it is horrible here! But, I didn't do it! Maybe good ol' Daddo did? He's been a frog before, frogs, swamps-"

"Please, Patton would never bring us somewhere this gr-oss!"

"And I really only looked like that because we were talkin' about Frogger." The human in the lighter blue shirt with the gray covering tied around his neck says, wincing a little and adjusting his glasses. "Virgil? Do you know where we are, kiddo?"

"No." The human in the patchwork purple and black hoodie is tense, ready for either fight or flight (probably flight, based on his general vibe). He looks around, eyeing Carnival Lecroux. "And those guys seem way too active to be any imaginary constructs. ... I told you guys we shouldn't have let Janus convince Thomas to have another glass of wine tonight! We're probably in some... weird nightmare because of it!"

"Oh, blaming me, what a surprise." The final human- well, maybe not. While most of him looks human, half of his face is covered with scales. His cheek has a natural slit implying an ability to unhinge his jaw quite wide but only on that side (so he probably can't actually, because his other cheek would be completely screwed if he tried), and his eye is bright yellow with a slitted pupil.

"Slit pupil means he's venomous," Frost warns his friends. "Right, Gricko?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I've never seen a snake-folk before, though, actually."

"He's barely a reptile-folk at all!" Kremy points at the kind of-human. "Either fuckin' commit or don't!"

"Oh, okay, gettin' some strong language here! Let's uh, elt's tone that down, how about, huh?" Patton looks at Remus. "Kinda leaning towards this being you, now."

"What, like I'm the only one who swears between us?! Ro-bro here-" Remus slings an arm around his brother, who quickly shoves it off. "-is the one who came up with Bitchmas!"

"I was in a heated debate! I'm just very passionate!"

"You're a potty-mouth! Even more than me!"

"I have to disagree, Remus. Your deodorant alone is all the evidence I need to contradict you."

"Mmm, but does contradicting me really matter if no-one cares to pay attention, Logan?"

"Oooooh, they've got drama." Twig climbs down from Gideon's shoulders. "This is just like those trashy major images!"

"We are not trashy!" Roman looks at his brother. "Well, most of us are not trashy. And we are not from some... major image!"

"Roman, I don't know that you need to justify us to the imaginary child."

"I'm not a child! I'm a Twig!"

"As in your name?"

"Yeah!"

"Then those are not mutually exclusive concepts."

"Alright, alright, enough of all this!" Kremy points at Logan with his cane. "Y'all explain yourselves right now so we can get a fuckin' move on!"

"Boy, lotta f-bombs being thrown around by this guy." Patton plays with the sleeves of the hoodie around his neck.

"Why would I explain? The only possibility is this is happening within Thomas's mind, so I see no reason to-"

"OH, GREAT FLYNN RIDER'S SMOLDER! Logan, there is another possibility! A whimsical, fantastical, impossible possibility!"

"That... is already a contradiction within itself."

"We... have been TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER WORLD!" Roman strikes a pose, one arm aloft in the air and the other held close t his chest as he gazes up into the sky.

"That is absolutely impossible."

"Uh... I dunno." Virgil looks down at the mud and swamp ooze clinging to his boots and pants. "I do feel... weirdly solid, right now."

"Yes! Some kind of incredible magic has taken us OUT OF THE REALM OF PRETEND and into a true fairytale!" Roman's eyes positively sparkle.

"First of all, magic does not exist."

The entire Carnival Crew look at each other. These people are either completely insane, or from what sounds like the worst world ever. No magic is like no stones for building, no wood for burning, no air for breathing.

Logan continues. "Second of all, if we have been somehow transported, beyond all possibility and the very logic that makes up my being, where is Thomas?"

Gideon puffs on his cigar. "Quit talkin' between yerselves! Just answer Kremy's fuckin' question, man!"

"The... alligator-man did not ask a question. He told us to explain ourselves."

"Oh-ho my gods! He's worse than Frost!"

Frost doesn't show if he's offended or not. He simply goes, "Mmm."

"I don't care what you say, Logan-"

"Not new information to me."

"-I am going to treat this as a grand magical adventure! Clearly we have been taken away to a world of magic and monstrosities to fulfill some grand quest, and these uh... strange creatures, are the proverbial tutorial for our journey!"

Gideon leans down to Kremy's ear. "Can I punch 'im?"

"Not yet, Gid. But probably later."

"Mmph, fine."

Roman points at the other party. "My good sirs! We are the Sanders Sides, a group of uh- what's the word you use, Logan?"

"Fine, I shall play along until a reasoning more aligned with myself is presented by someone who will actually be listened to. The word I use is Metaphysical, it simply means not actually physical beings."

"Yes! Metaphysical adventurers from another world!"

Frost leans in, intrigued. "What exactly do you mean, you aren't actually physical beings?"

Logan speaks before Roman can give his own explanation- likely for the best, as the words 'Well, nerd,' were clearly to be Roman's next input to the conversation. Logan, instead, matches the energy of Frost with his clear explanation.

"Well, to put it simply we are personifications of various aspects of Thomas's personality and mental processes. Our main function, and reason for existence, is often to externalize an issue that would normally be resolved through an internal examination and investigation."

"Wow, that's uh- that's really quite interesting. And yet you all take on these uh, these-these roles, and personalities, beyond your intended representations?"

"Yes, and the... severity, of these individualizations has increased drastically over the years."

"So you've had a-a growth cycle! You've developed your minds to contain intricacies and um, and greater depth of character, literally."

"Well- yes, I suppose that is not an inaccurate way of stating it, but again we are not individuals. We are not actually capable of fulfilling many of the requirements considered for actual-"

"OH MY GOSHHHHH!" As Patton cuts Logan off with a joyous scream, Logan's huff of indignation goes unnoticed by all but the fascinated Frost. Instead, all attention turns to the creature who has stepped out of the bushes. Giant round eyes, soft and fluffy fur-feathers, a little beat that the leg of a frog is quickly swallowed into.

"I'm going to cry," Patton breathes, hands clasped up by his mouth.

Logan clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. "It is a very adorable creature. And apparently docile, which I assume means it's with these people."

"OH, of course she is!" Gricko throws himself at the adorable owlbear, clinging to her neck with a hug as she muzzles her face into his. "This is my daughter Hootsie, Hootsie T. Cutesie-Grimgrin!"

"Don't you mean pet?"

Gricko looks at Logan with horror. "No! She's my daughter, and a very bright little girl, oooooh Hootsie, he didn't mean it, they must not have adoption in whatever world he's from."

"What? Of course we understand the concept of adoption, but-"

"Well y'all said you ain't got magic where you're from, so it ain't too unreasonable to assume you're lackin' a buncha other stuff as well!" Kremy gestures at Logan with the ground-end of his cane, flinging swamp muck onto the human's shirt.

Logan sets his jaw and looks Kremy in the eyes while flicking the muck off. "Our world lacking in nonsensical magic does not mean it lacks basic concepts such as adoption. I was proposing a correction because, while it is clear anthropomorphic animal-human hybrids are a normalcy here, that... is just a bear with an owl face."

"Hey! You keep shit-talkin' our niece, I'm gonna punch you right in the body!"

"I am not-"

"AWWWWW, you guys think of each other as family?"

Kremy taps the eyehole if his skull cane topper. "Well, I dunno if-"

"Hell yeah we're a family!" Gideon grabs Hootsie, and by extension Gricko, and holds them both in a hug. "Been travellin' together so fuckin' long an' know so much about each other, what else could we be?"

"I mean we could be a group or uh-"

"Ooooooh, but Mr. Kremyyyyyy, Torbek thinks of you all as faaamily."

The screams of the entire collective, Sides and Carnival alike, could deafen someone unused to either party. Twig and Roman especially.

"Oh-ho, geez, man! We forgot you were here!" Gideon thumps Torbek on the back. "You gotta stop doin' that!"

"He does that a lot?!" Vigril, adrenaline leaving him, drops out of his pose to bolt and sinks deep into his hoodie. The words come out more like spittle, forcing their way through gritted teeth.

"Ooooh, Torbek doesn't mean to. People just forget Torbek exists."

"That's not a terrifying notion at all." Janus keeps his cane hoisted up and arm cocked for a swing, just in case. "There's nothing alarming about a seven foot tall glowing monster who can completely vanish from notice without even trying."

"I knew he was still here!" Remus twirls his morningstar and walks over to Torbek, burying his face in Torbek's closest patch of fur and taking a deep sniff. "You reek! It is delightful!"

"Oooooh- huh? Wait, reeeeally? You find Torbek deliiightfuuul?"

"Oh, abso-lutely! What is that smell, I have never whiffed it before! Is it your deodorant? What flavor is it called?!"

"Uuuuuuh, what's deodorannnt?"

Remus blinks up at Torbek with a grin absolutely carved into his face. "You're going to be my new best friend. Sorry Janus!"

"I don't care at all." Janus examines his "fingernails", despite the presence of his gloves. "The title means nothing to me."

"You love me!" Remus begins to literally climb Torbek. "Now let me see these glowing drug implants! This place is a wealth of new ideas!"

"Please do not encourage my brother," Roman says with a look of disgust.

"We ain't, I think he's just encouragin' himself. And trust us, we've tried makin' Torbek a little more presentable."

"Yeah! When he was all tiny in my inn, he got a nice bath and makeover! But it got ruined as soon as he fell out." Twig holds up her tiny satchel-sized inn for Roman to see.

"Your- oh, look at that! Now that is the kind of whimsy and fantastical magic I was looking for!"

"Speaking of looking, let's look for a way home." Virgil is no longer quite so pressed into his hoodie, but the hood is still up over his head. "What is Thomas going through right now? You guys said when I ducked out, things got bad. Now we're all gone!"

"Oh, sweet Tatiana's beignets, he's right! Thomas could be in serious peril!"

"That's assuming our roles as facets of his personality still apply to us at this moment. Given that we have physical forms-"

Remus's head snaps around and he shouts, "You're all aware of your own breathing!"

Everyone splutters and gasps and makes general noises of upset as suddenly Breathing becomes a conscious effort.

"And we've all got heartbeats!" Remus giggles and claps his hands as even more displeasure rings out, and he simply turns back to trying to part Torbek's fur around the implants and see the scars. Torbek shifts uncomfortably, but his ear twitches and his eyes glaze with a bit of relief- Remus is unintentionally helping scratch a few itches and clean some gunk from Torbek's fur.

Virgil has his hand over his heart. "Is mine supposed to be racing this much?"

"Well, everyone has a different resting heart rate, Virgil. Allow me to- oh my goodness. Ahem. No, that is likely because your, well, you, has spiked with Remus's comments."

"Hhhnnnnggg..."

"Okay, Virgil, now would be the time to utilize those breathing exercises you've taught Thomas."

"Little easier to say than do, Logan!"

"Well, simply try."

"Yes, and if the racing nature of your heart causes you other health problems, Gricko may be able to help." Frost gestures at the goblin who, when Torbek had frightened everyone, had dropped from Hootsie's neck and landed head-first in the soft muck of the swamp. Gricko puts up a single thumbs-up, still quite stuck and dazed, though his nose peeks out just enough for him to breath without worry of suffocation.

Logan blinks. "He, is your doctor?"

"Not exactly, he is uh- let me pull him out, actually, he may want to correct you."

Frost does not move to pull Gricko up- but up Gricko comes anyway, a shhhhhplop! following some invisible force yanking him from the mud.

"Oh, thank you, Frosty," Gricko says, his voice becoming mumbled and somewhat slurred at the last word. "Anyway! Um, yes, I am not exactly a doctor, I am a druid. I can help with some basics healings but not everything."

"Like Torbek's various raaashes."

"Ooooh, you have rashes? Where?!"

"Remus, you will get rashes if you touch them," Janus says, reaching up with his cane and swiftly pulling Remus down to the ground. "Having a real body means you can actually get diseases now."

"Oh, Janny, you're saying that like it's a bad thing!"

"Which means real, symptoms? Including things like death?"

"I still don't see the issue here."

"Okay. Does anyone have a leash?"

"Ooooooh, yes, please."

"Eugh."

[wolverinesorcery]

I posted 3,820 times in 2022

That's 981 more posts than 2021!

100 posts created (3%)

3,720 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@springfey

@zarya-zaryanitsa

@dionysiandrama

@oleanderandsalt

@teawitch

I tagged 2,371 of my posts in 2022

Only 38% of my posts had no tags

#art - 431 posts

#scheduled - 392 posts

#fauna - 248 posts

#homes - 154 posts

#q - 130 posts

#flora - 82 posts

#landscapes - 76 posts

#heddwyn post - 67 posts

#politics - 66 posts

#about me - 55 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#im considering writing a review but i think half of it would be being unhinged over the entire book talking about sex and not mentioning the

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

If you're going to bat for regions and nations called celtic, take a second and remember that's MORE than just gaelic nations, lol, brythonic groups (cornish, Welsh, breton) need as much support and solidarity.

33 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

#4

The way some people on witchblr talk about psychosis/schizophrenia, delusions, etc. is so degrading.

"We're not like those CRAZY people" yeah? say the wrong words to the wrong person and you too can experience the humiliation and lack of agency given to psychotic/schizophrenic people. Undo your own sanism.

42 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

#3

Cornish Witchcraft by Kelvin I Jones

Pamphlet of Cornish witchcraft, posted here because mostly falls under folklore vs hard and fast witchcraft resources. Has some 'celtic soup' - author uses Irish holidays (that're put through Wiccan-ification) rather than the Cornish holidays he's referencing, along with mislabelling of piskeys as fairies/fairy folklore, speculates heavily on a triple goddess type figure (though doesn't outright call it that, references mother/crone aspects) and pre-Christian deities. Mentions Bucca by name for once! Generally pretty fun read though! Delves into a lot of niche Cornish traditions that're largely unrecorded.

Google Drive link (PDF)

Not Exhaustive Content warnings under the cut

Bodily fluids (including blood + urine), animal death| + hunting, human death, drowning, immolation, use of human remains in witchcraft, mentions of various illnesses & parasites, some ableist outdated language

53 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

#2

What is a commonplace book

Commonplace books are a method of compiling knowledge into one place, traditionally by handwriting but more recently with computers/word processors. They’re different from journals in that rather than containing exclusively personal thoughts or feelings, they’re a collection of external writings, informations, or other snippets of things recorded whenever it is encountered + usually organised.

To simplify – a commonplace book contains anything that captured it’s owners attention! Poems, extracts of fiction & non fiction writings, remarks or comments by others, anecdotes, observations, pertinent images, or other things along the same lines are all things that belong in a commonplace book!

Commonplace books have quite the history – their uses range between reading logs, reference books for students, and historically they were required by young women to demonstrate their upbringing.

How do they work

The exact system you use in your commonplace book is entirely up to you and what you will remember to use. Usually information is organised under themed/topic-based headings, but this can be as flexible or stiff as the keeper desires. My personal commonplace book is organised by source material – all of my book extracts & notes are kept together and demarcated by paperclips.

A commonplace book has no requirements in terms of physical format, size, page type, etc. As long as it is something you will be able to keep using happily! There is also no rules around decorating any pages with stickers or washi tape, or any rules around using sticky notes to add information on the go.

A commonplace book can also be as expansive or restricted as possible in terms of subject matter. For example, I keep a specific commonplace book for Babalon & Sekhmet. Nothing else enters this book.

What’s their use in religious practice or witchcraft?

A commonplace book can function as an in-between for a Grimoire (a book of magical knowledge and instruction, usually written by someone else and usually for transmitting knowledge within a specific tradition or branch of religion/witchcraft) & a Witchbook/Book of Shadows (more akin to a magical/religious journal for recordkeeping). They’re also exceptionally useful if you read a lot of metaphysical, occult or spiritual/religious books and want to keep organised notes in a hard copy form!

Commonplace books can be used to record interesting information from other, non-metaphysical but useful sources too, foraging notes and recipes are an obvious choice to keep a record of, along with notes about celestial events from astronomy sources.

In some cases, a commonplace book can also be a devotional activity, or a shrine of sorts. Commonplace books as a devotional activity is easy to parse – collecting and mindfully recording information about an entity, deity, divinity or other spirit is a good means to show care and interest.

A commonplace book as a shrine has a similar function to an e-shrine on tumblr, by collecting things that remind or represent an entity, deity, divinity or other spirit, a notebook can be made into a shrine or sacred object. This can also be a useful way to have a sacred touchpoint with an entity and keep it relatively out of sight, for those who are not open about their practice.

Examples

See the full post

139 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Paleoancestor veneration

Paleoancestors (also called deep time ancestors) are a collection of Ancestors I’ve not often seen talked about. There is a lot of overlap between paleoancestor veneration and paleoanimism/deep time spirit work – it is important to establish a firm connection with the paleoancestors you’re interested in venerating so they have a link to you as well. It’s also something I’ve found to be far more research-heavy than ancestor work involving humans and both more enjoyable and more challenging (palaeontology talks are enlightening but can also be an information overwhelm).

There are two main branches of paleoancestor work that I’ve found, that being paleoancestor archetypes and paleoancestor individuals (there are many mammoths, but only one Mammoth). I have a preference for the archetypes over individuals currently so the majority of this post will be from that perspective. Paleoancestor veneration is a practice I’ve found to be incredibly meaningful and a way to connect to the world around me.

There are a few methods I’ve used to contact paleoancestors, the main one being ‘walking back’ (a meditative exercise posted below). My second favourite option is connecting via the land and taking into consideration what megafauna + other extinct beings would have inhabited it before me - it’s easy to find what fossils have been discovered in your area and what more recently extinct animals called it home. 

‘Walking back’

A technique I’ve found fantastic for initially contacting paleo-ancestors is ‘walking back through time.’ It’s a meditative exercise that roughly follows this structure:

Find yourself at the mouth of a cave through whichever sense you find best – smell the damp cave walls, touch the rough rock, or look down into the depths.

Enter the tunnel, feel the ridges of rock layers on the wall and the fossils embedded within, feel the history of the rock and look at the striations of time.  

Walk deeper into the tunnel, find yourself travelling back through the ages, past the industrialisation of the world, past the spreading of agriculture. With each major mark of an extinction event, find a branching passage.      

When you find a passage that feels ‘right’, explore it – walk down it, feel and look at the fossils extruding from the walls. At the end, there is a light and fresh air – perhaps it has a peculiar taste to it if you are in the Cambrian era, or maybe it is heavy with moisture from a Cretaceous polar forest.  

Emerge from the tunnel into a new, exciting, unexplored place. Venture into the environment and see what approaches you. If at any point you are afraid, or in danger, there is an easy out – look down at your feet for a hole, crevice or chasm into the ground below and slip into it, back into the tunnel, and walk home.    

Communication

Ancestors communicate in different ways, depending on the era they are from. Pikaia has a much more basal version of communicating with me, a human, than Cave Lion does. Pikaia only communicates with the most basic essence of a sentence or message: it resembles talking with ‘feeling words’ only but has no bearing on the depth or complexity of the messages 

An example of this is, when seeking advice on a situation regarding anxiety for the summer, Pikaia’s advice was “warmth, joy, blue (colour)” and I roughly interpreted as the summer will be joyful and warm if I make it that way, but not to forget my needs (the blue colour’s meaning in my personal practice). 

Cave Lion’s communication style is much more familiar to me and uses full sentences (though, he is reserved with how much he speaks).

Something that has been invaluable with paleoancestor work is keeping a constant record of communication, advice, and lessons. This is especially important if engaging with them on a personal level outside of asking for general advice and favours at an ancestor altar. This has been most helpful with learning Pikaia’s communication style!

Not all deep time ancestors are receptive to human contact (at least initially), especially if they are a relatively recently extinct animal whorse distruction humans may have played a part in. I’ve found that giving them gifts and allowing them to dictate the terms of communication (within reason) is deeply helpful and even gives them space to grieve their loss. The most recent experience of mine that has made this necessary is Aurochs, who expressed grief and rage over her own species fate as well as the fate of her descendants (domesticated cows).

Outside of direct communication through meditation, it is entirely dependent on the ancestor what they’d prefer as an intermediary. Cave Lion talks through my animal tarot, Aurochs prefers only direct astral communication, and Pikaia works in mysterious ways and will only occasionally talk through specific decks, tools, or will sometimes appear through my intuition.

Altars and gifts

This is entirely dependent on the ancestor – Pikaia has not asked for anything beyond that I swim in the ocean regularly, while Cave Lion asked for a hand-drawn charcoal art piece reminiscent of cave art and an object so I can carry him with me regularly. Aurochs has asked of me that I don’t consume beef at all and dairy as rarely as possible (which is something I am okay with doing for her), because of her grief over the loss of her species. Altar-wise, I’ve given all of them the option of space on my main working place side by side with the deities I connect with. This is where Cave Lion’s art lives, along with a dish for any food gifts they may request or receive as a surprise.

As a semi-gift for my paleo-ancestors I follow rewilding projects closely and involve myself with the land & sea – it’s something that has been fairly continuous throughout time after all. Keeping the environment free of litter, well cared for and 'understood' has also helped strengthen my connections to them. This has extended into the political too – trespass and rewilding are political issues that I’ve thrown my weight behind (along with various others).

Paleoancestor veneration is a practice I’ve found to be incredibly meaningful and a way to connect to the world around me and something I am always excited to talk about and share with other folks that might not realise it's an option! My askbox is open for any questions about any of the above post.

Links

Dinosaurs in your locale (website, global)

DIY Animism (animism & spirit work text that has been foundational in how I interact with animal spirits, book, global)

The Missing Lynx (book about UK extinctions from oldest to most recent, book, UK)

Royal Tyrrel Museum (posts paleontology talks for free, YouTube, Global)

Paleoancestors mentioned

Cave Lion, Panthera Spelaea (wikipedia) / Pikaia (wikipedia) / Aurochs, Bos Primigenius (wikipedia)

See the full post

151 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[feathered-serpents]

YES OH MY GOD!!! martin has never really felt out of character to me in s5, i saw so many posts about it i was starting to think i was the only one. i’ve never thought of martin as the “🌸uwu tea boi🌸” even from the beginning he wasn’t like that. and in s5 there were times where he was unfair and understandably stressed out by ya know,,, the apocalypse and people constantly suffering but his actions never felt out of character

Edit: Tumblr what did you do the opening paragraph of this post??? Why is it merged with the second paragraph. I fixed it 

I’m going to use this as an excuse to go fully unhinged over Bad Jmart Takes of 2021. I've had these opinions for a very long time and have implied them over time but have never overtly said them, but now it's been one year since the show ended, the fandom is significantly quieter, and I've stopped fearing god so let's do this

The sweater-wearing soft-boy tea-making version of Martin is very cute and I do think based on some level of canon. It's a fun version to play with and there is nothing wrong with it... it's just not always Martin.

This got so long it warranted a read more so warning unhinged behavior below

The "side" of Martin that people say is OOC in season 5 was indeed always there and people actually seem to like it most of the time. In season 1 he burst into Jon's office and slammed the jar of worms on his desk, later he calls Jon out and does in fact raise his voice asking why he's so skeptical, in season 2 he snaps at Tim in the tunnels while looking for Jon, in season 3 he yells at Elias, in season 4 he's a designated bitch the whole time and yeah part of that was manipulating Peter Lukas but it still came from somewhere and also he was manipulating Peter Lukas.

This "side" of Martin was always there, it only became a problem when he and Jon became a couple and that part of Martin was in fact still there, and it wasn't just the sweet tea boy with an occasional spicy side that fanon decided he was. This is why while fanon is fun it's also lowkey a plague and will kill us all

And like Martin does do things I don't like in season 5, I don't like how he decided to "keep his apology" in 174, I have mixed feelings about him saying that he and Jon wouldn't have gotten together in a normal world but... none of those things are out of character for Martin to say. When you look at his character those things make sense, that's just the kind of person Martin is and he's not a perfect person

And I think this leads into a problem that is not at all exclusive to the Magnus fandom, but just fandom in general, and that is: Just because a character you like makes a decision you don't agree with or says something you don't like, does not make that decision out of character.

You know that one post that's like "The version of me you made in your head is not my problem?" that's also true in fiction. The version of the character you made in your head is not the story's problem.

I know I've said the same thing in three different ways in a row now but I just NEED that to be hammered home as hard as possible: IF A CHARACTER DOES OR SAYS SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE BEING OUT OF CHARACTER

Okay. I think I've talked about that long enough, but I'm not actually done

All of that is all well and good but that's actually not the part I thought I'd get skinned alive for. This is

You see a lot of these takes go hand and hand with another take, a Jon take. Sometimes these takes were used only to fuel this particular Jon take:

This portion of the fandom wanted to overly victimize and sometimes straight-up infantilize Jon's character.

In these takes, Jon can do no wrong since he is the fav, but a lot of wrong IS done in the show, it has to be someone's fault but god forbid it be Jon's. Since Martin is the one closest to him both emotionally and literally throughout the course of season 5 he's the most common target but you will notice these takes did go after literally everyone else in the cast.

I'm not saying they were doing this consciously, no one does this consciously, but that is what was happening. I find this doubly ironic because many of these takes will go after Georgie because she wanted Jon to be the perfect victim a flaw that is indeed in the text but then will turn around and fanonize Jon until he IS the perfect victim.

And like, the apocalypse was not Jon's fault. That take I absolutely agree with it was not Jon's fault, but... other things were. People DID suffer because of conscious choices Jon made, the most blatant example of this being knowingly feeding off the trauma of just random passerby. Something that Jon himself acknowledges was a bad thing to do and he could've stopped but didn't want to, yes he feels remorseful for it and it was definitely part of his self-destruction spiral but he still did it. That is still a thing he did.

Also, they will claim that Martin and the other characters were "stealing Jon's agency" while proceeding to discredit all agency Jon had in the story that was not morally good, which is a lot of it. I'm not saying Jon never had his agency stolen from him ever obvious he did MULTIPLE TIMES but but you cannot blame every bad thing he ever did on that, the man sometimes just made bad decisions, literally the entire case does that

Like I remember what I still consider to be the worst Magnus take I've ever seen, and it used 198 as its frame and talked about how Martin and Basira act when Jon falls down and is lying on the ground groaning and Basira is giving him a hard time about all the fuss he's making and Martin helps him up and says it passes quickly and that's about it

For full disclosure here is the scene:

And I swear to god this was used to say that it was proof that everyone else's trauma is taken seriously and Jon's is not. Which still bluescreens my mind whenever I hear it and I just need others to see it and know that's a real take I saw

You take all this and you combine it with Jon being described as physically small, physically weak, descriptions I have used make no mistake, but when you put it all together with these other takes it reads as very very infantilizing to the point where it's a little uncomfortable.

Listen I think I'm gonna stop here I think I've typed enough and I still have a ton of actual real adult work to do. I don't know if this was coherent, this was a year's worth of rant pent up and released at once so I apologize if it's all over the place.

Remember, you do not have to agree with me here, this is my own opinion. I'm not trying to pick a fight, please remember the block button is literally right there I've used it on almost everyone who made the above takes you can use it on me it's fine I promise I do not have the energy for a fight just block me please I'm begging okay goodbye

[baubabble]

“Subtle Differences” Part II - Hotch x F!Reader

PART I  FINAL PART

Summary:  As you continue working the case in Seattle, you begin to notice more and more that Hotch is staying close to you. With the occasional glance, you start to think that maybe his feelings are real, but doubts start to creep up. When another woman goes missing, you and the team must connect the dots faster to save her and find the unsub before it’s too late. 

Word Count: 3743

Warning: Typical CM Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Honest Man” by Ben Platt

Note: Ooh, part 2! This one is the “filler” i guess. Part three is when we get the team in action and a little more hotch x reader moments that I love. That should be up later this week! Also, I have watched this show A LOT, but presenting profiles isnt easy so i did my best. Also, the painting i reference is not real.

-------

The two of you worked in silence for a while as you tried to wrap your heads around the beginnings of a workable profile. 

As you both sat alone in the conference room, you could occasionally feel Hotch glancing over at you, but you were determined to keep your focus on the task at hand. This wasn’t like him to keep somewhat distracted while at work. Then again, he was never one to really show any kind of interest outside of work either. Something had changed, but you weren’t what it was yet. 

Half an hour later and Spencer and Rossi arrived. “Well, doesn’t this look cozy,” Rossi said as he pushed into the conference room, the doctor following right after.

You didn’t bother in acknowledging his snide comment as you continued to focus on the photos spread out before you on the board. Perotta had brought the maps Hotch had requested and Spencer immediately grabbed his red marker and began his geographical profile.

“All three victims were taken outside of very public places,” Spencer said, gaining the attention of the team. “Mason from outside a church she visited weekly, Rayna from a parking lot across from a major shopping center, and Lisa from outside the public library. Whoever the unsub is, he’s not afraid to take risks in the abduction.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you asked, glancing around at your colleagues. 

“It can be either,” said Reid, tucking his hands into his pockets. “However, considering that no witnesses have come forward, he must be using a rather convincing ruse.” 

“Or he’s threatening them with a weapon,” Hotch added. Spencer nodded in agreement.

“Something else isn’t sitting well with me,” you revealed. “This method of killing...it seems like you would need to practice it before, right? Maybe not the wax on the body, but at least using it as a method of asphyxiation.”

“You think he’s done it before?” Rossi inquired. 

“It’s a possibility,” you said. Hotch nodded and hit the call button on the phone. 

“Speak and be heard!” Garcia said.

“Garcia, I need to know if there have been any other murders in the past that resemble the unsub’s method,” Hotch said. 

“As in just the wax in the throat or the whole enchilada?” she asked, causing Rossi to smile. 

“I think we would have noticed the rest of the ritual, so focus on just the method of killing,” you added. 

“I will dig and dig until I can dig no longer. Hit you back!” Garcia said as she hung up. 

As everyone got back to work, you got up to get yourself some much-needed caffeine. As you waited for it to brew, you tapped the pen in your hand against the countertop, trying to organize your thoughts. There had to be more to the killings instead of just replicating a piece of art. The woman in the painting had no discernible features so he wasn’t trying to get her exactly right. There had to be another reason for picking three different women from three different places. The mystery was gnawing at the back of your brain. 

“You look like you’re overthinking.” You turned to see Perotta leaning in the doorway of the break room.

“Just thinking, actually,” you said, grabbing a cup and pouring your coffee. “There are just a lot of things that are bothering me about this one.”

“Don’t all of them bother you?” he asked with a slight chuckle. You shrugged. 

“Unfortunately, you get used to it,” you said, moving past him. Perotta kept close to you.

“Have you always been in the BAU, Agent (Y/L/N)?” he asked, halting you in your step with a hand on your arm. You took a step back, letting his arm slide off of yours. 

“No, I used to be a part of an anti-terrorism task force for a while before I transferred,” you explained. Perotta nodded thoughtfully. 

“Wanted to get less action?” he asked, with a half-smile. 

“More, actually,” Hotch said as he interrupted the two of you. Perotta turned to your boss and you saw him swallow thickly as Aaron Hotchner stared him down.

“Huh, who would’ve thought,” Perotta said, glancing back at you, but you kept your arms close to you and didn’t bother smiling back. 

“The others are back,” Hotch said, pulling your attention. You nodded and turned away from Perotta. Hotch followed you back to the crowded conference room. He walked behind you, keeping a hand on the small of your back. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, acknowledging his perfect timing. 

“You’re welcome,” he murmured to you as he held open the door and waited for you to walk through before following afterward, letting his hand fall away. As you joined the rest of the team, you instantly knew something was up. Based on JJ’s concerned face, it wasn’t good. 

“What happened?” you asked, taking your seat between Morgan and Hotch. 

“The unsub has taken another woman,” Spencer revealed.

“Already?” you asked, surprised. “Lisa wasn’t even missing two days. The others were taken a week apart.” 

“He’s increasing his abduction time,” Rossi said, flicking through the file.

“Most likely because he thinks he’s running out of time to perfect his replication of the original painting,” Reid said, twirling a pen around in his slender hands. “Though, I am still not sure what connects all the victims together.”

“I may have an answer for you, Doctor,” Garcia’s voice lit up the room from the phone in the center of the round table. 

“What did you find out, Mama?” Derek asked. 

“Well, honey, I have unearthed something rather interesting. All three of the victims were what you would call art connoisseurs. They all belonged to the same club that focused on fundraising for the arts and preserving historical pieces.”

“Garcia, is the membership for this club exclusive?” Spencer asked. 

“Not at all. In fact, the list of members and donators are both available on the club’s website.”

“Considering he didn’t abduct them from their homes, he has to be getting their routines elsewhere,” you said. 

“Do we have any information on the newest victim?” Prentiss asked. 

“Her name is Allison Wilson, she’s twenty-four-years old from Port Angeles, and she was taken outside of her gym,” said Garcia. 

“Another public place,” Rossi realized. “In the middle of the day too while cops are out in higher numbers. And we thought he was being bold before.” 

“Was Allison a part of this art club, too?” Hotch asked. 

“Yes,” Garcia confirmed. “A newer member from the looks of it as she just moved to the area.” 

“Okay, well if they’re not getting their addresses from the site, then the unsub knows when and where they’ll be,” Prentiss said with a sigh. “Garcia do we have any idea how he’s getting their information?” 

“Not yet, but I am working on it,” Penelope said. “I will hit you back once I figure it out,” Garcia said in goodbye and there was a collective sigh within the group. 

“Okay,” Hotch said, “I think we have enough to deliver the profile.” 

------

Once Perotta had wrangled his officers, your team presented the profile. 

“We’re looking for a white male in his early thirties,” Hotch began, pulling the whole room’s attention.

“We believe he has created a scenario in his mind based on a single work of art in which he sees himself as a sort of reaper type character,” Emily added.

“He is posing his victims in the same way as the woman depicted in the Italian painting. “Manto di cera” or “Shroud of Wax”,” Spence continued. 

“The painting is set to be on full display at the Seattle Art Museum later this week,” you said, stepping forward. “We believe that the final victim he abducted, Allison Wilson, is going to be his final piece of art.”

“So, what was the point of the other three women?” An officer asked. 

“Mason, Rayna, and Lisa can be considered his trial runs. All of it in order to perfect his masterpiece,” Rossi said.

“He is an unhinged individual and will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to make sure he gets what he wants,” Derek said. “You should consider him armed, dangerous, and not afraid to die by suicide or suicide by cop.” 

“This unsub thinks of these women as less than human so there is a good chance that he has a negative history with one,” JJ added, “maybe a girlfriend or even his mother.”

“Whoever this man is, he is connected to the art community here in Seattle,” Hotch said, finishing up. “We’ve set up a tip line, but we are going to have to rely on his previous victims to locate him and Allison Wilson. Thank you.” Perotta then dispersed his officers and everyone got to work on trying to track down the unsub.

“(Y/N) was right, this guy has to have priors,” Morgan said once you and the rest of the team returned to the conference room. “There is no way that he just woke up one day and decided to kill. Not like this.” 

“We should look for any non-lethal incidents,” Reid said, “he may have tried to strangle someone first.” 

“I’ll get Garcia on it,” Hotch said as he hit the call button. 

“Ready when you are,” Garcia answered. 

“Garcia, I need you to look for any past police reports where female victims were strangled or suffocated. Not just crimes that seem similar to the wax," Hotch said, reading through the file again. 

You watched as his brows pulled together and all you wanted to do was to reach out and smooth down the crease that had formed. You knew stress was all a part of the job, especially when it came to Aaron. He never got a break and when cases arose like this one where there were more questions than answers, it took its toll.

At that moment, you wished for a Hail Mary. You wanted to save Allison, of course, but a simple answer or even just a bit of good news would lessen the weight on Aaron's shoulders.

As if feeling your eyes on him, Hotch looked up. Your (Y/E/C) eyes met his dark ones and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. His eyes glanced down your face for a fraction of a second before he looked away. You didn't even realize Penelope was speaking again.

"Okay, I've been running searches for both kinds of crimes that correlate with the profile, but so far, I got zilch," Garcia said.

"Great," JJ groaned, "another dead end."

“However, fear not, my friends, as I do have something else," added Garcia.

“You figured out where the wax came from?” Reid asked. You looked at him, unaware he had even asked her to look into that in the first place. You also realized that it was something you should have thought of yourself. Your frown didn’t go unnoticed by Morgan who lightly kicked your foot under the table. You nodded to him, assuring him you were alright. 

“Not exactly,” Garcia said. “The wax itself is pretty generic. You can get it from multiple different suppliers, but the pigment used in it to make that blood-red color is not sold by the companies. It is an oxidized clay that is regulated and sold from a local artist and I have just sent his name and address to you...now!”

“Morgan, Prentiss,” Hotch addressed, “go pick up the owner and bring him back. JJ, Dave, get in touch with Allison Wilson’s family. Reid, (Y/L/N), keep working on trying to figure out how the unsub is finding his victims from the club.”

“What are you going to do?” Spencer asked. 

“I’m going to call and get a warrant for the owners of the charity club,” Hotch said as he stood and exited the room, followed closely by the others.

You and Spencer sat in silence for a few minutes before he swiveled his chair in your direction. "Is there something going on with you?" Reid asked, peering at you over the knee he had propped up on his chair.

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

“I don’t know, something just seems...different about you,” said Reid as he stared at you with that signature confused look of his. 

“Don’t profile me, Spencer,” you said, leaning back in your chair. 

“I’m not!” he said, “but I am your friend and I can tell there is something up.” You turned back towards, sighing. Spencer never missed anything. 

“Hotch is keeping me under evaluation this case,” you said and he immediately understood. 

“I know,” said Reid, “I had to do the same after getting shot. Emily had to do it too.” 

“I feel like every move I make… I feel as if I am under a microscope.” 

“It’s procedure, (Y/N). Look on the bright side, at least Strauss isn’t doing the evaluation,” Spencer said, trying to lighten the mood. That got you to smile and Reid brightened. “See, I knew I could make you do that,” he said, twirling his finger in front of your face. You playfully swatted his hand away. 

“Thanks, Reid.”

“Anytime,” he said with a wink and got up to go stare at the board once again. 

Looking out at the precinct through the glass walls, you could see Hotch in the Captain’s office. He paced while speaking on the phone. Spencer’s words resonated in your mind as you watched your boss. At first, you thought that maybe he had chosen to take on the responsibility of your evaluation to be closer to you, but now you weren’t so sure. What if it was just procedure after all and you were only reading into it? It wouldn’t be the first time that you read signals wrong. For being a profiler, when it came to your own love life, you could be pretty clueless. 

Eventually, Hotch rejoined you and Reid. “Did you get the warrant?” Reid asked, looking over his shoulder as Hotch took a seat. 

“Judge wouldn’t approve it,” Hotch sighed, “said because the website is public domain, anyone could have access and that it wasn’t enough probable cause to warrant a search and seizure.” 

“Great,” you said, “so now we just have to hope the clay guy gives us something.” 

“Do you think he’s a part of this?” Spencer asked. You shook your head. 

“No, but he has to know something. Considering how much wax has been used, and not to mention Rossi believes the unsub had trial runs… He must have bought more pigment than the shop’s usual customers.” 

“But why would he even leave a paper trail for something as easy as a red dye? You can practically make it out of anything?” Reid asked. 

“Because not everyone is as smart as you, Reid,” you said and he smiled shyly, turning back to the board to start laying out the hunting grounds. You looked at Hotch and he was smiling at you, thankful for you praising the doctor. You quirked a brow in question but he just shook his head, returning to his work. You turned away before the blush that welled in your cheeks became more apparent. 

“You guys need anything?” Perotta said as he pushed open the door and leaned in, 

“We’re fine for now,” Hotch said, his tone filled with dismissal. Perotta pursed his lips, but nodded and left, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

“I don’t like him,” Spencer said quietly, his back still turned to you and Hotch.

“I second that,” you muttered. 

“You are both correct,” finished Hotch and Spencer slightly turned to look at you with amusement in your eyes. You couldn’t help the laugh that flew from your throat. Spencer chuckled quietly next to you as you tried to get yourself under control. Hotch watched you, completely enamored by the way your face lit up with a smile as you found him humorous. It was better than any drug he could think of, seeing that smile of yours. 

------

It was a little less than an hour later that the others came back with the shop owner.

The man, Terry Owens, looked nervous as Morgan took him into the interrogation room. His demeanor alone as he walked into the station was enough for you to know immediately that this was not your unsub.

As JJ continued speaking with the Wilson family, you went to observe the interrogation. Spencer and Emily were going over new evidence while you stood next to Hotch on the other side of the two-way mirror. Morgan and Rossi entered the room, taking a seat across from Owens. 

You watched closely as they asked their questions. You could tell that both Morgan and Rossi made the man nervous. He would flinch slightly any time Morgan raised his voice or Rossi shifted in his seat. You and Hotch didn’t say anything as you observed, but the closeness to him was tugging at your mind as you tried to stay focused.

You weren’t focusing on what your team members were asking the man, but rather how he responded to each question. Owens was sweating even though they chilled the room for him. He began slurring his words as he struggled to find answers for each inquiry thrown at him. When Rossi presented Owens with the crime scene photos, the shop owner nearly turned green. Pushing up his sleeves, he took slow breaths, trying to calm down. That is when you noticed the burn marks on his skin. 

They were slight and faded, but from your time with anti-terrorism, you knew the signs of torture immediately. You turned to your boss. “Hotch, I think I know what’s going on,” you said.

“You saw something?” he asked softly. 

“I think he’s been tortured by the unsub,” you explained. Hotch turned his attention back to the interrogation room for a moment before nodding at you. Sweeping past him, you entered the room. Morgan and Rossi looked at you and then got up and stood back, giving you room to work. “Hi, Terry,” you greeted with a warm smile. “I’m SSA (Y/L/N) and I think I know what happened to you.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked nervously. 

“The marks on your arms,” you said, gesturing to the exposed skin. He looked down and his eyes closed as his jaw went rigid. “Terry, look at me.” He did. “Those burns are from hot wax, right?” Owens nodded. “He hurt you to get you to not talk to anyone. He poured the wax on you to make sure you knew that if you talked, you would end up like the women he was killing.”

“I didn’t know he was going to kill them,” Owens said. “Please, I just thought he was into something weird, you know? Like a fetish or some kind of performance art. I’ve seen things like that before. I never imagined…” he trailed off, his hands shaking. You reached out and placed your hands over his. 

“You’re okay,” you promised him. “Terry, nobody is going to hurt you again. He is not going to be able to get to you anymore, but I need his name. He has another woman with him now. Her name is Allison and she’s only twenty-four-years old. She has a little sister named Cailey and a mom and dad who are worried sick about her. If we don’t find her, she’s going to end up like these women too.” You placed the other three photos before him again. “They didn’t deserve to die like this and neither does Allison Wilson.” 

Owens met your eyes, nearly pleading. “I don’t know his name,” he said. “He always paid in cash and he threatened me anytime I asked any personal questions.” 

“Is there anything you can tell me about him? The smallest thing can make a difference.” Owens thought for a moment before he straightened up. 

“I once heard him on the phone,” he said. “I was preparing his new order and someone called him. He was talking to them on speaker and they didn’t say a name, but they called him by a nickname.” 

“What was it?” you asked. 

“Galahad,” Owens said. 

“Like the Knights of the Roundtable?” you asked, turning over your shoulder to look at Morgan and Rossi, confused. Morgan, however, was shaking his head. 

“That’s what Lisa Bracken’s neighbor called the delivery guy that delivered Lisa’s artwork,” Morgan said before he and Rossi were moving out the door. You turned back to Owens. 

“You did great, Terry,” you said. “We’re gonna get him.” You didn’t wait for his response as you followed Morgan and Rossi back into the conference room. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Morgan was already saying as you pushed through the door. 

“Got something for me?” Garcia asked on the other line. 

“The unsub is a delivery guy that delivers specialty art pieces. He works for Ground Express,” Morgan said. 

“Okay that is a pretty big company, honey, you’re gonna have to give me a little bit more than that,” Penelope said. 

“Garcia, look for drivers that are specifically assigned to the dumping zones. He may be dumping their bodies during a route,” Spencer said. 

“Okay, one second…” she said as her hands flew over her keyboard. “Okay, I have four men that work that specific route. Two of them are way too young, the third is African American…” she paused for a second. “And the fourth fits our profile perfectly.”

“Garcia, I need a name,” you said. 

“Alan Rhett,” Garcia announced. “He owned an apartment downtown but was evicted two months ago and now he rents a loft space in Belltown. Oh,” she said. 

“What is it?” asked Rossi.

“He uses his own truck for deliveries and he hasn’t been to work in a few days.” 

“Garcia, send us the address,” Hotch ordered. 

“Already did,” she said. “Be safe, my friends, and go get him.” 

“Will do, Mama,” Morgan said as he ended the call. 

“Gear up,” Hotch said, “We’ll leave in five.” The team dispersed immediately. As you headed for the lockers to grab your vest, a phantom pain echoed through your injury site, but you took a deep breath and tried to center yourself. You were ready for the field, you had to be. Shutting out the echos of gunfire in your mind, you secured your sidearm and went to gear up. You weren’t going to let him kill another woman, not if you could help it.

[luxekook]

bangtan host club ❯ part i

❯ pairing: ot7 x reader

❯ genre: ouran au, college au, crack, smut

❯ summary: when you had decided to take summer lessons at your college, you hadn’t factored in the impending presence of seven insufferably attractive and arrogant boys… the bangtan host club. 

❯ word count: 2.1k

❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive language, terrible pet names, excessive dramatics

❯ banner by: maggie @kimtaehyunq​

a/n: while this fic is loosely based off of the anime version of ouran highschool host club, it is set in university - meaning that all of the boys are of age (at least 21 years old)

host club members

❯ Kim Namjoon as “Kyoya Ootori” ❯ Kim Seokjin as “Tamaki Suoh” ❯ Min Yoongi as “Takashi ‘Mori’ Morinozuka” ❯ Jung Hoseok as “Mitsukuni ‘Honey’ Haninozuka” ❯ Park Jimin as “Hikaru Hitachiin” ❯ Kim Taehyung as “Kaoru Hitachiin” ❯ Jung Jungkook as “Haruhi Fujioka”

Taking summer classes had never been on my agenda, my studies having been mapped out in detail since the day I arrived on campus three years ago. And then the university’s president suddenly has this utterly groundbreaking epiphany and adjusts the curriculum to “ensure that all students will leave Bangtan University well-rounded”. 

Screw that. My ass is already well-rounded enough, thank you very much.

But despite my best efforts (i.e. begging President Kim to make an exception followed by crafting a petition that gained over ten thousand signatures), I have found that there is no avoiding the dastardly new physical education requirement. And since my schedule for my upcoming senior year has been planned and set for literal years, I’ve been forced to enroll in the sole summer physical education class offered at Bangtan University - Introduction to Weight Lifting.

I wish I was kidding.

To say that I am dreading the start of class tomorrow would be an extreme understatement. I’ll be lucky to escape this summer without physical injury or the loss of my dignity. Athletics have never been my strong suit, and I’ve only entered our campus gym to go to the smoothie bar.

Groaning at just the mere thought of working out and being graded for it, I trek down the streets of outer campus towards the library, swearing under my breath and sweating profusely.

It’s a blazing hot, blue-skied Sunday in July. Typically, I would be lying on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand, soaking in the warmth of the sun with joy. But instead, here I am, sweltering and desperate for air conditioning after my ancient window unit wheezed its final breath last night. The comfortable chill of the library is my only hope aside from my landlord who promised to fix my air conditioning by tomorrow.

My frustration builds as I turn onto the block lined with imposing and picturesque estates in which the upper echelon of Bangtan University resides. I’d bet the very last ice-pack in my freezer that these houses have unfailing central air.

I pick up my pace, worn Doc Marten platform sandals slapping against the hot pavement. The pristine mansions seem to mock my distress as they exude the coolness of unbothered wealth. Despite there being no Greek life here at Bangtan University, the lack of letters emblazoned on the numerous estates I pass does not symbolize a lack of status. 

This block is home to the athletic teams who throw massive parties whenever they happen to be in the off-season. It’s also home to the legacy clubs - the exclusive groups of current students who are relatives of past alumni.

And last but not least, this block is home to the infamous Bangtan Host Club, a small group of idle rich boys with exceptionally good looks and a penchant for entertaining. 

The aforementioned group’s house comes into view as I draw nearer to campus. The host club’s mansion sits on the corner lot right across the street from campus. Typically, students are wary of such proximity - but not those boys. No, they’re un-phased, throwing massive parties every weekend without fail and without repercussion.

During my first semester, I had been confused as to why their parties had never been shut down; but now I know better. The host club’s president Kim Seokjin is the son of none other than the fucking president of the university - the very same man who damned me to my weight lifting fate.

In fact, almost the entire host club is related to someone with influence - either at the university or within the surrounding community. The only exception to the wealth factor is Jeon Jungkook, who attends Bangtan University on a scholarship not unlike myself.

About 99% of the university are host club stans. As for me? I don’t subscribe to that bullshit. And I do mean literally ‘subscribe’. They have newsletters, merch and everything. I would say I don’t understand it at all, but a small part of me does.

They’re fucking gorgeous. Like I’m talking Tom Ford at New York Fashion Week gorgeous. Armani catalogue centerfold gorgeous. Goddamn Sports Illustrated Men’s Swimsuit Edition gorgeous. 

In fact, I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin actually does model in his spare time. With his long limbs, broad shoulders and pillowy lips, Seokjin certainly has the features for it. My freshman year roommate bought so many posters of Seokjin from the host club’s merch website I think I could identify him from a hundred yards away in the dark. 

“Hey!” The bellow emanates from the porch of the host club’s house and jolts me from my memories, “Hey, princess!”

I let out a snort. Whoever that pet name is directed at needs to shut that down immediately. I mean, ‘princess’? In this economy? Please. I need off this block ASAP.

“Hello? I’m talking to you, angel!” 

The voice sounds closer now, and my eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, this person cannot be talking to me, can they?

Princess? Angel?

The sheer absurdity pushes me onward, and I do not spare a single glance in the direction where the inane greetings originated. Alas, I barely make it two feet before a tall figure screeches to a halt in front of me, panting like he had just run a marathon. 

I blink as I take in the very boy who just crossed my mind a minute earlier. Kim Seokjin looms over me, chest heaving and smile gleaming.

“Cupcake, hello!” his smile grows wider, “Why didn’t you answer me? I was talking to you.”

My brain is trying to wrap itself around the unfathomable phenomenon I’m currently witnessing. The host club president is beaming down at me like I’m the last custom Rolex ever made. His white t-shirt that probably costs more than my rent stretches across his shoulders in a way that has to be illegal. 

A bead of sweat drips down my back between my shoulder blades. I don’t have time for this attractive detour; I only have time for a long sip of iced water and a seat under an air conditioning vent somewhere deep within the recesses of the quiet library.

“Were you?” I shrug, looking over his illegally broad shoulder and plotting my escape, “I didn’t realize, considering my name isn’t princess, angel or cupcake.”

I inwardly cringe at my tone. I have a tendency to be irritable when the weather is hot, and it seems like today is no exception.

Seokjin stares down at me, his cocky expression wavering for a split second before snapping back into place. “Well, tell me your name then, sunshine, so that I may cordially invite you to the host club’s latest summer extravaganza!” His dark brown eyes sparkle as he remains seemingly impervious to my building ire, beaming down at me.

“No, thank you,” I shake my head decisively and attempt to sidestep around him. 

None of my friends are on campus for the summer, and there is no way I'm going alone to a party full of strangers. That just screams bad decisions, just like the time I willingly ate the dining hall’s “Mystery Meat Special” during my second semester.

Seokjin cuts off my path yet again, and my scowl intensifies as I glare up at him, “Could you move, please?”

Seokjin gapes back at me, “D-don’t you want to come to our party?” I stare at him with eyebrows raised. He continues at a higher decibel, “Don’t you know who I am?”

The nerve of this boy. My eyes scrunch shut as I send a quick plea to anyone out there in the universe to send me patience and then internally count backwards from ten. 

“Yes, I know who you are, Kim,” I finally say, completely exasperated, “And no, I still don’t want to go to your party.”

Seokjin is gobsmacked, looking like he’s seen a ghost as he stands before me open-mouthed. For a second, I allow myself to indulge one more time in his attractiveness, my eyes wandering along his toned torso, his muscular arms, his high cheekbones, his messy brown hair. 

And then he bounces back, snapping his fingers, “Aha! I know what this is. You’re playing hard to get! Okay, I can play along with you, sunshine.”

It’s my turn to gape at him this time, watching as he mumbles to himself about how I must want him to beg for me and how he would just love to do so. I’m about to put a stop to this madness when he spreads his arms wide and announces loud enough for the entire block to hear, “Sunshine, please, attend our party! My heart longs for your presence, and I will only be happy if I can have your arm in mine next Friday night...”

I’m honestly beginning to worry about the boy in front of me. Is he completely unhinged? Am I being Punk’d right now? 

Seokjin prattles on, “So, my sun, my moon, my stars, will you please do me the honor of joining me for a night of fun courtesy of the host club? No guest has yet to be disappointed and—!”

I finally just reach up and cover his mouth with my palm, steadfastly ignoring how plush his lips feel against my skin. “Kim Seokjin!” I hiss, “I promise I am not playing hard to get. I simply do not want to go to your party. Now, please, for the love of god, let me walk by you in peace.”

Loud bursts of laughter sound immediately after I finish speaking, and I whip around to locate the source. Two boys jog over to where Seokjin and I are standing on the pavement. Their laughter doesn’t subside with their approach. If anything, it grows louder.

“Oh, come on, pres,” the pink-haired boy who I know to be Park Jimin jeers, his melodic giggles punctuating each word. “Is this how you plan on handling your first rejection?”

My eyebrows pull together in confusion as I turn to face Seokjin, only to find him lying dramatically on the lawn in front of his house with one arm throw over his face.

“Go away, Jimin,” Seokjin groans, ripping out a handful of grass and throwing it at the other boy. Obviously, he doesn't calculate for the wind and sputters when the grass blows back in his face.

“Boss, you’ve really hit a new low,” the blue-haired boy - Kim Taehyung - grins as he looks back and forth between me and the over-the-top performance happening on the lawn. All Seokjin does in return is flip Taehyung off, seeming to have learned from his grass-throwing lesson.

Well, there’s no need for me to stay a second longer within this realm of crazy.

I turn on my heel and head off towards the library, renewed in my desperation for the relief of blissfully cold air.

Alas, I don’t get too far before the two boys with colorful hair are in front of me - each with an arm thrown over the other’s shoulders. 

“Well, well, well… I must say,” Taehyung drawls.

“You’re quite an intriguing little thing,” Jimin cocks his head, looking me up and down. I try in vain to steel myself against the heated assessments both boys are giving me.

I’d heard a lot about these two - most of it being completely outlandish and borderline unbelievable. Do they really do everything together?

It’s as if that thought is written all over my face as the smirks grow on the faces of Jimin and Taehyung. “If you don’t want to come to our party for Jin-hyung…”

“Will you come for us?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s thought, and I am almost certain that he intended for that question to be as suggestive as it sounded.

Before I can even attempt to answer, Seokjin launches up from the ground and barges in between the two boys. “Yah! That is no way to speak to a lady! Have I taught you nothing? Don’t you fools remember lesson number fifty-two on being a good host?”

“We didn’t say anything inappropriate, pres,” Taehyung shrugs, looking pleased with how riled up the older boy is growing. His pink-haired counterpart grins, “If anything, you’re the one with the dirty mind, twisting our innocent words into such filth.”

It’s as if Seokjin is struck by lightning - his shock turning him pale as a ghost before the redness overtakes him. I cannot tell if it’s due to embarrassment or anger. All I know is that I need to bounce.

When Mt. Seokjin finally erupts, I slink away and practically jog across the street to campus. Ah, free at last...

a/n: this is part one in my host club series! originally i was going to make this a giant one-shot but i figured i would just break it up into smaller pieces so that i could get some content out uwu

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate

[tiny-space-robot]

Okay so Fire Emblem anon here!! Here's a Kinda Super Long Bc I Got Carried Away description of a few Fire Emblem games, plus some characters that seem like they hit tropes you like!

The good news is that there's not a super huge overarching timeline, there's several smaller timelines that are seperate from one another except for the crossover games. I'm gonna go with describing the newer ones that you're most likely to be able to get your hands on and play; a lot of people complain that they lean into some anime-tropey stuff and are too easy, but tbh, that's a perk just as often as it isn't. Basically, it's Game of Thrones, but rated T and with more cute girls and old men who are friendly instead of creepy.

Tbh, it's a turn-based strategy game with visual novel elements for characterization, if strategy games aren't your thing and you're just interested in the characters, watching the support conversations on Youtube might be more your thing. All the characterization, none of the resetting the same goshdang level thirty times. Anyways, description of the games in passing, including a brief description of the plot concept, pros and cons, trigger warnings, and some characters you might be interested in if you're just looking up characters.

*line break for legibility*

Awakening: for the 3DS. Follows Robin, an amnesiac mage, after they're found in a field by a band of knights called the Shepherds. Involves the undead, a twink in a mask, timey-wimey shenangians, and the usual cast of oddballs you'd expect from a Fire Emblem game.

Pros of Awakening: customizable player character, intro of Casual mode (turns off permadeath) and the Pair Up system, which lets you put characters together for shipping reasons strategy and stat boosts. Also doubles as a shipping simulator, since you can pair off characters and meet their later in the game due to said timey-wimey shenangians.

Cons of Awakening: there are some....very concerning combos of names/skin tones/plot relevance for certain characters, so go in with a warning about implicit racism. Also if you like strategy games, this game is relatively easy to break and make "too easy," but tbh that's what Lunatic Mode (the Ultra Unfair Hard Mode) is for.

Trigger warnings across the main plot: underhanded politics, attempted assassinations, martyrdom, an optional character is implied to stalk Robin but idk how to tag that, identity crises, conflicts within a family, character who isn't you looks like you, backstory child abuse, an optional character is a bad portrayal of DID if you squint?

*line break for legibility*

Fates: is actually a group name for two games set in the same universe, and a DLC bonus story: Birthright, Conquest, and Revelations. All for the 3DS. All three games star Corrin, a pacifist raised in seclusion in the kingdom of Nohr. Each game reflects a different path Corrin can take in navigating the war between the nations of Nohr and Hoshido: Birthright has them stand with Hoshido, Conquest with Nohr, and Revelations has them strike out (nearly) alone. Each path has a completely different storyline, cast of characters, and difficulty curve.

Pros of Fates: honestly, the characters here cater the most to the avid pro-shipper and multi-shipper. I just love this cast. Both Nohr and Hoshido have four members of the royal family you can play and get to know, each of those royal family members has two retainers who are various levels of dedicated and/or unhinged, and the cast just widens and widens. Also a character customization and shipping simulator point for the same reasons Awakening gets it. Also, canon fujoshi rights (there's a character with a skill called Daydream, which boosts her stats when two male characters are paired up near her. one of us, one of us). Also the first game with canon queer characters: both Rhajat and Niles are bi.

Cons of Fates: unfortunately, the writing is kinda rushed or badly translated in some places. Also *shakes IntSys* my lore! Give me more lore! Also, iirc, you could get both physical games in a bundle for a discount when they came out, but not anymore, so it's sorta like Pokemon with version exclusives. Which is less fun, since you can't directly trade characters. Also the fandom for this game is RIFE with discourse, which is kinda sad bc I just wanna talk my ships with ppl sjxhdjdn

Trigger warnings for Fates: child abuse might as well be Nohr's middle name, in-universe racism (since Hoshido is p obviously Japan-inspired, and a lot of Nohrians are rancid to Hoshidans), kidnapping, on-screen murder, lots of fighting your loved ones (on both main routes, you gotta fight the playable characters from the other side AAA), su-c-de, death of sibling(s) in certain routes, demonic-like possession, there's like six characters people can read as bad mental illness rep, Niles especially is discourse bait for being a kinky (yes that's canon) bi man of color but also he's awesome so die mad antis

*break for space*

Shadows of Valentia: for the 3DS. A remake of Gaiden, the second game in the series. Follows Alm, a farm boy from a small village in Zofia, and Celica, his childhood best friend. Zofia and the nation to its north, Rigel, are two nations ruled by the dragon gods Mila and Duma, respectively. Normally, they're in equilibrium, but Rigel is invading and Mila is missing, prompting Alm and Celica to independently investigate the problem.

Pros of SoV: the most like the old-school Fire Emblem games, but it also has the permadeath-off mode. also the first to be fully voice acted! The art style is gorgeous, and the plot was polished up from the old game--two characters names Berkut and Rinea were added, and they are PEAK OTP the diskhorse can die mad. Also the cast is pretty fun all around, from buddy squad and the older brother/dad figure they adopted along the way to "hello this is my gang of childhood friends, we're gonna kill a god" Also introduces Mila's Turnwheel, which lets you rewind your moves if you realize you goofed big time and screwed yourself over.

Cons of SoV: has the most references to other games, but you won't, like, be lost if you don't get them. You just might have a few interludes of "who tf is Camus/the White Wing Brigade/etc" but it's easy enough to look up on the wiki. Also tbh, the plot kinda drags in the middle, there's some filler battles to try and make it feel more realistic and it feels...weird. Also no custom character, you are Alm and Celica and you will Like It.

Trigger warnings for SoV: you know that thing where a girl character gets killed off for a guy character to angst over? the game starts with a fakeout version of that. also a character slowly goes mad over the course of the plot (but it's really well done imo?), there's some self-sacrifice stuff in there, classism is a major theme, possession/selling your soul™, there's a couple of levels where you're exploring tombs/prisons, I'm sure there's something else but I'm forgetting right now

*line break for legibility*

Three Houses: on the Switch. The newest game in the series, and the most polished imo? Stars Byleth, a wandering mercenary turned teacher at the Officer's Academy. The Academy, housed in Garreg Mach Monastery, teaches youths from across the land of Fodlan how to be warriors, commanders, and knights. Students are sorted into three houses based on their country of origin: the Black Eagles are from ghe Adrestian Empire, led by the heiress-apparent Edelgard; the Blue Lions are from the kingdom of Faerghus, led by prince Dimitri; and the Golden Deer are from the Leicester Alliance, led by Claude, grandson of the Duke. You choose one of these houses to lead, and then everything quickly goes sour.

Pros of Three Houses: It's such a rich experience! The music is incredible, there's so much lore, and you can wander around the Monastery and hang out with the students to your heart's content. Also, it's four storylines for the price of one, even if they're all relatively similar in the first half. It does a pretty solid job of weaving together its themes into a satisfying narrative that will make you consider everyone involved. Also we got our first bi main lord (Edelgard) and non-white main lord (Claude is mixed race) in one fell swoop! Also, given the setting, it's teacher/student ship heaven.

Cons of Three Houses: just gonna come right out and say it: one of the villainous factions in the game is pretty substantially tied up with some anti-semitic tropes. There's no way to ignore it, it's just bleh, and I'm not gonna send anyone in without that warning. Also, though there's some characters you can persuade to switch sides, or spare, there's no route where there's a happy ending for everyone. Also there are so many people who are fake deep about the themes of the game, so be ready for the worst takes imaginable about your faves. also super trigger heavy, see below.

Trigger warnings: MANY. Garreg Mach and the Church of Seiros are very reminiscent of catholic religious stuff, for anyone with religion triggers, blood in cutscenes, death of a parent, death of a sibling (different characters), major gaslighting vibes in some places, lots of people going unhinged, some white savior™ vibes in places, body horror, creepy ass weaponry, backstory genoc-de (mostly not related to the anti-semitism), blood magic (definitely related to the anti-semitism), in general it goes to a lot more effort than the other games to make you think about what's Actually going on, even if it doesn't always work.

*break for legibility*

As for characters you'd like, if you just want to look some characters up, my recommendations based on what I understand about you include:

Awakening: Libra fits 'gnc man of the cloth' so well it's actually a conversation in game: "so what's a woman of the cloth doing here?" "...man, sir, man of the cloth." And Then He Never Gets Misgendered Again. Also Nowi's supports sometimes feel like a jab at antis-- she's a manakete, a person who can transform into a dragon. Manaketes also grow really slowly, as in "middle aged looking manaketes are like 1000 years old," so she's got major baby face and copes with being mistaken for a teenager by making jokes. Also Gregor, who she first appears with, is pretty fun--older mercenary with a thick accent who is like 80% here for a good time. Also Walhart, who's a villain but got some content added as DLC.

Fates: any interactions between Corrin, Leo, and/or Camilla are probably right up your alley--Camilla is obsessively protective over her siblings in a way that's Very Definitely Platonic™, and Leo also canonically has a crush on her in something that was cut in the English release. Also Gunther--once upon a time he was your classic knight in shining armor, now he's semi-retired, Corrin's personal guard, and covered in scars (and his voice is gorgeous too)

Echoes: my biased answer is to listen to every single line Ian Sinclair read for Berkut because he absolutely did NOT have to go that hard. My actual answer is to point you in the direction of the pegasus sisters Catria, Palla and Est, or maybe the older gentleman who's the head of the Priory, I forgot his name oops abbdbd. Also Clive is a devoted husband to one Mathilda, who looks just like an older version of his sister Clair 🤔

Three Houses: knowing you, you'd adore Hanneman--an older professor who's extremely passionate about his work, to the point where he tends to forget personal space and such. Also Seteth, like I mentioned before (join me in simping for him and his gorgeous pecs) and like, honestly, I know ppl make jokes about Alois but he's rlly good. Soft, awkward but he doesn't care, dad jokes everywhere. And also Mercedes, both because she's the biggest sweetheart imaginable and everyone should love her, but also bc she is just walking potential for the kinds of stuff you post on this blog. On one hand, she's the oldest student at the Academy and attached at the hip to one of the youngest, Annette (tho people act like they have a way bigger age gap then they actually do) and on the other hand, she has a long-lost half brother she can encounter (who I will not name for HUGE HUGE spoilers reasons) who she spends the rest of her life with in one of her endings. Heck, he has three possible endings total! Total!

Basically I brought the games up bc I'm used to being on the side of the fandom where everyone shoos anything uncomfortable under the rug, but there's so much material here that's being wasted I SWEAR

If you have any other questions I can send another anon? Your call! Thanks for hearing me out I love ur blog :3

OKAY!!! sorry for answering so late, but this ask was pretty much a BOOK (not that I´m complaining though! thank you so much! ;;u;;)

and from what I read here, I THINK if I´m going off on my first fire emblem adventure, I´ll try and pick up three houses if I get the chance! I have read your trigger warnings (thank you so much! ;u;) and I think I can take it! >:3

again though, I am really, really not a fan of anime and the anime artstyle in general (blergh! XP) so I´m not sure how I´ll cope with that in particular, but then again, an artstyle does not make a game! u3u

AND HANNEMAN SOUNDS LIKE A WINNER TO ME!! I looked him up and OOOF!!! he may not have NEARLY as many wrinkles as I´d like him to have, but the facial hair is definitely a step in the right direction! ;3c

NOW YOU GOT ME INTERESTED!! 

LETS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

[the-desolated-quill]

At Midnight, All The Agents... - Watchmen blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t read this comic yet, you may want to before reading this review)

I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk about Watchmen on this blog for years and now my moment has finally come :D

At Midnight, All The Agents is the first issue of Watchmen and right from the off you know that this is going to be something unique. Most superhero stories tend to begin with a crime being committed or perhaps even a big splash page featuring the hero standing all… well… heroic. Watchmen however starts very differently. We’re not thrust straight into the action. In fact the action has already happened. We’re witnessing the aftermath of the crime. Much more sombre and slower paced than any mainstream comic would be. In fact the opening of Watchmen is so good, it’s worth analysing the panels in detail.

We begin with the famous image of the blood stained smiley face. We travel slowly upward, revealing the smiley face to be in a puddle of blood. A man walks through the puddle carrying a ‘The End Is Nigh’ sign. As we continue moving upwards away from the puddle, we get excerpts from Rorschach’s journal. Superheroes spouting pretentious, bombastic monologues tend to be par for the course, but this is different. Rorschach speaks of how horrible New York has become, blaming ‘liberals, intellectuals and smooth talkers’ for allowing the city to decay. He speaks of how the city is afraid of him and that when the ‘whores and politicians’ beg for help, he’ll whisper back ‘No.’ If you didn’t know this was a superhero comic, you’d think this was a villain speaking. There’s no sense of justice or duty in Rorschach’s words. Only bitterness. It’s very disconcerting, as writer Alan Moore expertly draws the reader’s interest.

We reach the top of the building and we see a detective looking down from a broken window. We find out that they’re investigating the murder of Edward Blake, who was thrown out of his apartment window during a violent altercation. It appears to be a garden variety burglary gone wrong, but the detectives note that the viciousness of the attack suggests he may have been the intended target. This is further supported when they discover a photo of Eddie shaking hands with the Vice President, but then they convince themselves to drop the matter because they don’t want to draw the attention of ‘masked avengers.’ They leave the apartment and begin to discuss superheroes and vigilantes in negative terms. They mention something called the Keene Act and that superheroes have been outlawed, though Rorschach is still active despite that. As they walk and talk, we begin to notice things about the street around them. It looks like New York, but it’s not a version of New York we’re familiar with. There’s electric cars on the road and they mention Vice President Ford. Except… Gerald Ford wasn’t the Vice President in 1985. Ford became the thirty eighth President after Richard Nixon resigned and left office. He was succeeded by Jimmy Carter in 1977. If Ford is still Vice President in 1985, does that mean Nixon is still in power? How is that possible?

The first few panels of Watchmen is a true masterclass in how to open a graphic novel. Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons do a brilliant job establishing the world and setting up the story and themes without having to bog the narrative down with needless exposition. Everything we need to know is revealed to us subtly and organically through the dialogue and the visuals.

Oh and just in case I don’t get a chance to later on, let me just say that Gibbons’ artwork is phenomenal. His attention to detail when it comes to the worldbuilding is impeccable. A lot of credit must also go to colourist John Higgins, who chose to move away from the primary colours used by other superhero comics and chose instead to use the secondary colour palette. The use of purples, oranges and greens not only helps set Watchmen apart from other comics, it also helps to reinforce the subtle differences between this world and ours, as well as helping to establish tone, creating a moody and grim atmosphere.

At Midnight, All The Agents mainly follows the character of Rorschach as he investigates the murder of Edward Blake, who is revealed to be a superhero known as the Comedian, and warns other supers about the possibility of a ‘mask killer.’ As we see Rorschach journey from place to place, we notice how all of the ex superheroes he meets are neither super nor even very heroic. First there’s Dan Dreiberg, aka Nite Owl, who’s introduced to us reminiscing with Hollis Mason about ‘the old days’ over a drink. He’s slightly overweight, weak and some might say pathetic. Rorschach clearly resents Dan for quitting and we see Dan’s guilt and regret over this. We then meet billionaire Adrian Veidt, whom Rorschach accuses of selling out and cashing in on his superhero identity as Ozymandias. Next there’s Doctor Manhattan, the only superhero with superpowers, and Laurie Juspeczyk, who previously fought crime as the Silk Spectre. Manhattan doesn’t seem to care either way, remarking on how the dead and the living have the same number of atoms and seeing no difference between the two. Laurie, however, is glad Edward is dead because he apparently tried to rape her mother years ago, to which Rorschach dismisses as ‘a moral lapse.’

This sets the tone for the other issues to follow. Watchmen has a very cold and cynical view of superheroes. The ones we see are presented as being pathetic failures, uncaring and indifferent to the world around them, or just downright psychotic. We even get mentions of other superheroes, such as Mothman, who was apparently sectioned, and the first Silk Spectre Sally Jupiter, who Rorschach describes as a ‘bloated, ageing whore dying in a Californian rest resort.’

But the most revealing and damning of all is Rorschach himself. The only active superhero. God help us all.

Rorschach is many people’s favourite character (myself included), but let it be clear, Rorschach is NOT a hero. He’s brutally violent, ultra right wing, bigoted, misogynistic, homophobic and deeply disturbed to the point of being delusional and paranoid. It’s worth noting that the Watchmen are based on characters DC obtained from Charlton Comics, and that Rorschach was based on the Question. A vigilante/detective who reflected creator Steve Ditko’s objectivist philosophy. Rorschach takes these libertarian, conservative beliefs to their literal extreme, presented as being deranged and dangerous. At one point we see him walk into a bar and start breaking a man’s fingers in the hopes that one of the patrons will crack and give information about Edward’s murder, but of course, it doesn’t work, and why should it? You see this trope in a lot of cop and detective shows and it never made sense. Why would random strangers in a bar know everything that’s happening in the criminal underworld? So not only is this a darkly comedic riff on the cliche, it also tells us everything we need to know about Rorschach.

One question I found myself asking is why does Rorschach care about the murder of the Comedian when no one else clearly does. Towards the end of the issue we get his whole spiel about how there’s good and evil and evil must be finished. The typical black and white mentality of a right wing nutter. It also reminds me slightly of the Marvel Comics character Moon Knight, in that he’s motivated not by justice, but by vengeance. And not like Batman or the Punisher where they feel vengeful on behalf of another person, but rather vengeance as a concept. Rorschach is less a superhero and more an avatar of vengeance. He’s not about saving the world because, to him, the world is beyond saving. He’s just there to punish those responsible. But it’s not just Rorschach’s moral absolutism that drives him to investigate the murder. It’s also the fact that the Comedian was part of an exclusive club. Rorschach’s club. The superhero club. This is what’s behind Rorschach dismissing Laurie’s accusations of Eddie raping her mother as being merely ‘a moral lapse.’ From his perspective, any wrongdoings committed by them are either justified or excused because they’re superheroes. They’re above the law. Which begs the question, who gives them the right to decide what is and isn’t morally acceptable?

It’s this arrogance and abuse of power we see crop up again and again throughout Watchmen. The issue ends with Dan and Laurie having dinner together and talking about an incident involving ‘Captain Carnage.’ A guy who pretended to be a supervillain in the hopes that a costumed vigilante like Nite Owl or Silk Spectre would beat him up. Apparently he tried it on Rorschach once and he got dropped down an elevator shaft for his trouble, to which Dan and Laurie laugh. Admittedly this is another good example of dark humour that Moore executes really well, but it’s also shocking to see two (ex) superheroes laughing about it. Dan and Laurie aren’t bad people. They’re certainly not as unhinged as Rorschach. But the fact that their first instinct is to laugh is rather telling about how they see themselves as superheroes. Consciously or not, they see themselves as being above everyone else.

This is further reinforced by the extra material given at the end of the issue. Instead of the letters pages you would find in other comic books, Watchmen contains additional material that expand on the lore. They’re not essential to the story. You can easily skip over them, but it’s worth reading them because they do offer further insights into the characters and this world. At Midnight, All Agents features an excerpt from Under The Hood, an autobiography written by Hollis Mason, the first Nite Owl, in which he says something very revealing. Initially he was a cop, but he enjoyed reading comics and adventure yarns as a kid, and is reintroduced to them when he asks a kid on his beat if he could borrow their Superman comic. This apparently re-awoke dreams he had as a kid where he would rescue the prettiest girl at school from bullies or save his maths teacher from gangsters and have her falling in love with him, which inspires him to become Nite Owl. In other words, he became a superhero not to save people or do good, but so he could live out his childhood fantasies.

So what is a superhero? A guy in a costume fighting crime, righting wrongs and saving people? Or a delusional and often violent thug indulging in an egotistical power fantasy over the people around them? This is why everything about Watchmen is best represented in its opening image of the blood stained smiley face. A symbol of innocence and purity tainted by violence.

[draugsresurrection]

What initially started as a quick check on how two characters are recruited has spiraled wildly out of control. In short, changed the recruitment methods for one, with a new option being available, Damian has been completely reworked, and an event around seven artifacts has been scrapped and replaced with a completely new version that combines ideas from the old version and merges it with the aftermath of a new sidequest. Most of these are finished writing, but none of which are implemented within the game.

In significantly more words, those two characters, Leon and Allen, are mutually exclusive, and feature somewhat similar movesets and roles. But there's almost zero story correlation between getting one and not getting the other. They can make decent excuses AFTERwards, but not warn beforehand that there'll be consequences to recruiting them. Further, complications arising from additions to Damian's events has pushed Leon, the one with far more demanding requirements, to later in the game (used to be available at three+ artifacts, now only makes sense at fifth or later), while Allen has almost zero requirements (he's desperate to find anyone to train him after a certain event), and is now available sooner (three artifacts).

Leon is definitely a sort of secret character, and that's fine, but that bumbling into Allen is fairly easy and stops you from getting Leon isn't really fair in any way, especially as Leon's fate is a major sticking point when it comes to lategame Memory events. I guess this is my own fault for making such a tight situation around the two of them, something I should've obviously thought more about before making Allen this way in the first place. I considered briefly WHY they can't both be available, and my main excuse is a mechanics one; they're both fighting for second-billing when it comes to info about Fire tomes (Chizuru is first). Incredibly petty, I know, but it's enough to not make me budge. It already happens with the secondary poison-users, but they have reason to HATE each other and be mutually exclusive.

The best solution I can find is to write a loophole that makes Leon more easily available (and earlier) under a new specific circumstance. This makes getting him the old way fairly unlikely, but hey, this is the best way I can figure to deal with it. In simplest terms, if you stumble into that circumstance before meeting Allen (~1/6 chances), you'll probably get Leon. If not, you'll probably get Allen. Unless you're not very chatty with random NPCs, because nobody really points Allen out very hard (or at all, really), while Leon is thrown dead into your face if the conditions are met. So if you miss that 1/6 chance, and just ignore Allen, and haven't pissed Damian off, Leon is a likely sell. Writing that out... kind of makes it sound more fair. It's definitely one of the more esoteric parts of DR, but hey. A lot of it comes down to the whims of Damian's mood, so in that way it makes sense a lot of the outcome here is out of your direct hands. You have the option to say no to both, of course, but who ever ACTUALLY says no to free stuff, without knowing some secret reason behind it? Something I can't see any way to hint at.

From there, Damian needed a complete rewrite. Being one of the very first things I ever worked on in Draug's Resurrection, it was kind of a rocky base to begin with, and I only just piled crap on top of that unstable base. He was prone to constantly moving around, and had three entirely sets of dialogue trees, depending on his location, with two of those being basically abandoned nothings since like 2011. He'll now always been in his room if there's an artifact to give him, so you won't have to wait around until he's in there. And he'll actually respond normally when not in his chambers, instead of basically ignoring you. He also now has lines related to every single artifact scenario, instead of having none at all and just staring blankly at you if try to talk to him about what you've been up to.

Seeing as Damian's 'loyalty' to you (how much he likes you) is incredibly important to Leon's recruitment (and almost all of the true endgames), I next went to iron out the two big sidequests related to that. The first is fairly uneventful, if a bit lighthearted and silly, but it's something that's been planned since almost day one. It's done and tested. The other is probably the single most important sidequest in the game, and it's a bit of a moral conundrum, something I'm aware the game needs more of, so I'm happy to have it in. There need to be consequences for not doing it, and so I chose to lace that outcome with an incredibly messy and needlessly complex event that takes place at seven artifacts. I essentially scrapped the old version, being about 20 pages of writing, with unfinished hooks still in there. The new one isn't done yet, but is already pushing 40 pages; there's essentially six totally different versions of the event, with almost all versions having both decision splits and reactive splits. Despite that, it's easier to understand and has more impact and makes Damian seem less unhinged. Maybe good, maybe bad. I'm pretty pleased with this turn of events, as it's a firm payoff for something set up earlier, and this change makes several simple things more complex, and eases the stress on a complex thing. Said complex thing is tied to ANOTHER third party member. So yes, the recruitment methods of three whole characters has been affected.

On forward progress, this does technically count as such, as said seventh event was a major stumbling block on the road to the true endgames. I'm just as happy that I scrapped the old version. This might take longer to fully implement, but I think it makes things flow better, and it's at a time where it's both influenced by events that happened and affects those yet to come.

[jhathaway71]

Conspiracy, Opinion, Sarcasm and Hope with the Ryan, Danny & Emily Interviews: A Robron Bexit Or NoBexit View

My parents and teachers used to say, “Find something your passionate about and make a career out of it…then it will never feel like a job.”

(PLEASE SEE DISCLAIMER AT THE END REGARDING IAIN MACLEOD AND THE ENTIRE PRODUCTION STAFF)

Before proceeding, I need to warn that this is another of those long-arsed posts. Just so you don’t get bored or if you disagree with what I’m saying and stop reading, there is a conspiratorial alternative viewpoint mixed in with some ideas of what might happen and opinions which may not be entirely popular. If you should want to skip forward, it starts with “Conspiracy/Alternative ViewPoint”. I hope you do not fast forward though, and actually do continue to the very end. Thanks!

On Monday, 15-May-2017 the various soap magazines released with “exclusive” interviews with Emily Head, Danny Miller, and Ryan Hawley all from the special media event held for the press by ITV Studios and Iain MacLeod late April 2017.

As I read the articles with the three actors on their take on how this story has played out and where their characters’ headspace has been and will be going forward, I chuckled at the sheer volume of material I could use as I created my “alternative” views, conspiracy theorist nutter ideas, and just generalized rantings.

I even posted to Twitter “I feel another of my #Emmerdale #Robron conspiracy theorist nutter posts coming on with Emily Head’s interview/responses.

I set out to gather the material and quotes from all the different sources I had read and began outlining my post. The majority of it was centered on Emily Head, but also shined light on different quotes made by both Danny Miller and Ryan Hawley that supported the “conspiracy” and “alternative” views I’ve crafted recently.

All of these different magazines/sources used the same or similar quotes, told slightly varying stories. Some of this could be attributed to the media (paper vs. online), space allowed for each topic, author’s viewpoint, editorial bias, material presentation/formatting, and also reader interpretation.

And then I saw several individuals tag Emily Head asking somewhat impolitely why she would play a character such as Rebecca White (I’m politely excluding the actual vulgarities, insults, accusations, etc. The majority of which should not have been said to begin with, least of all directed at her.).

Emily Head is NOT Rebecca White. I personally do not know and have never met Ms. Emily Head, but I respect her as an individual who has followed in her father’s footsteps and chosen a career to entertain us. Emily being an actress, I would venture to bet she has very little say in the character and stories she is expected to portray in her role as Rebecca White.

I participated in the #Bexit campaign (prior entry “Rebecca White: A Bexit Story”), not to have Emily Head’s character removed from the show permanently, but to answer Iain MacLeod’s statement that Rebecca White was a tragic character wronged by Robert Sugden. I did and still do somewhat want her out of the orbit of Robert and Aaron. I fully understand that is an impossibility given her character’s current story (baby) and Iain MacLeod’s and company defense of her as a character (damage control to salvage his and productions f#ck up with her development and all), but one could hope.

Conspiracy/Alternative Viewpoint

All of which, brings me to a new alternative viewpoint and conspiracy type theory…

Excerpt from Emily Head’s quote in Duncan Lindsay’s Metro.co.uk article:

“And Ryan and I were very careful on the day to make it seem like it was a progression and it wasn’t just I was turning up to sleep with him and it was more what he was saying that that made it happen.”

Read more: http://metro.co.uk/2017/05/17/emmerdale-star-emily-head-ponders-the-attitude-that-rebecca-is-to-blame-for-sleeping-with-robert-as-he-was-drunk-6623605/#ixzz4hRAIcBtC

This statement is very peculiar if only because the script (dialog) and the director (and possibly the prior scene history and story direction) should be making the decisions on how it should playout on screen I would think. I’m not in the acting or entertainment business, but why would the stars feel compelled enough to discuss a scene in such a way as to portray it as a progression of Robert Sugden slowly convincing/seducing Rebecca…and not Rebecca just showing up to sleep with Robert.

All of the scenes from the 16-March-2017 episodes with Rebecca and Robert leading up to the Event in the Mill bedroom can easily be interpreted as Rebecca being interested in Robert, and not necessarily as a “friend”. For Rebecca to lie to get out of her date (with the same man she slept with the night before) as soon as she receives the text from Robert, to then show up at the Mill knowing Robert threw Adam out after overhearing him tell Vic…well, I can’t image why the stars (Emily & Ryan) would need to discuss how to portray the scene…

Unless, Emily and Ryan understood that the scene was about Robert self-destructing and lashing out to hurt the ones he loves is actually what the showrunner, storyliner, script writers, etc wanted and for us to believe it as we watched. Both Ryan and Emily being professionals were discussing it to “SALVAGE” the mess of events leading up to the Event that shall not be named, this storylinee, and Rebecca character since her introduction.

Therefore, they were wanting to show the scene in a way to correct the mess they were given for the “Mill bedroom scene” knowing the prior scenes leading up to it didn’t support the hair-brained and poorly executed story that was intended, especially with now the Thursday, 16-March-2017 episodes ended.

This story line has been a travesty since the introduction of Rebecca White, and not just because of my our love of Robert and Aaron! Or your love of Robert OR Aaron, if you are a side taker! I say it is a travesty because the scripts, progression, and character development (Rebecca) does not appear to have been what Iain MacLeod wanted based solely on his defense of the character.

Which brings me to the excerpt(s) from Danny Miller & Ryan Hawley’s interview below:

How does Robert feel about Rebecca?

Ryan: He loves Aaron and he really regrets this, he didn’t want to do it and it wasn’t for any means of gratification, he didn’t have some burning desire for her. It was a moment where he felt rock bottom, thought that the two of them were over and he’s got that bitterness and he’s an unhinged character. That comes out sometimes and it has big repercussions that are going to get in the way of this relationship.

There’s nothing he can do about that now other than try and rescue this relationship. That’s really what that is, you seeing that other side of his personality and him using that to get what he wants and to prevent Aaron from getting hurt.

How will Aaron feel towards Rebecca?

Danny: Naturally very angry. Emily (Head, who plays Rebecca) and I had a conversation about it and said that “how could you ever look at that person in the same way?” She wanted to help Aaron and she wanted to warn him off Robert a little bit but all she’s done is add to the problem. So at that moment in time he’s very angry with her but then he goes to have a conversation with her and the tables turn a little bit. 

The conversation that Emily and I had was that Robert did say to her “we are over” so it’s more on Robert than it is on Rebecca but Rebecca kind of just jumped into bed with him on the evening that they finished so that was the main reason that people are angry with the pair of them. But at the end of the day, how it was played out was that Aaron was having his own difficulties and making it more difficult for Robert, so Aaron self-harms and Robert hurts people around him so that’s exactly what he’s done in this case.

Read more: http://metro.co.uk/2017/05/16/emmerdale-spoilers-danny-miller-and-ryan-hawley-reveal-all-as-robert-sugden-tells-aaron-dingle-he-cheated-6626150/#ixzz4hRBbpaDi

It’s the last sentence from this Q&A with Danny that really hits home with me. “But at the end of the day, how it was played out was that Aaron was having his own difficulties and making it more difficult for Robert, so Aaron self-harms and Robert hurts people around him so that’s exactly what he’s done in this case.”

And honestly, it is the last portion “Robert hurts people around him so that’s exactly what he’s done in this case.” that really does tie together and support Emily and Ryan’s attempt to correct how the scene would be interpreted by the viewers and explain Iain MacLeod’s poor attempt to defend the character Rebecca White while further demonizing Robert Sugden. It also underlines why Emily Head defended Rebecca’s actions, her assigning partial blame on Robert, and mentioning the gender hypocrisy she sees in regards to other scenes of a somewhat similar nature.

As Ryan Hawley portrayed Robert Sugden “progressively” trying to seduce Rebecca, I was actually believing that he truly did have romantic feelings for her and was ready to give up on Aaron. I had even thought and stated that I could see Iain MacLeod allowing an onscreen brief relationship (for other reasons than just sex/love) between the pair before finally reuniting Robert and Aaron later in the year or early next.

But, it was necessary for Ryan to portray the convincing seducer of Rebecca White and not appear quite as drunk as he did with Aaron from the 2015 scene (empty whiskey bottle notwithstanding). Robert was lashing out to “hurt people around him”. The lack of appearing so drunk or as drunk as the 2015 scene would also allow for his actions to be driven more by his own self, dispel any “alcohol related performance” arguments, and could mitigate the potential of the consent problems the scene contains.

Ignore the piss poor set up, dialog and story execution before Rebecca enters the Mill bedroom from the 16-March-2017 episode. Previously, she had been portrayed friendly to Aaron (Home Farm theft, Aaron confiding abuse with her, reassuring Aaron during Birthday surprise, and others) and to Liv (confidant) after Aaron was incarcerated. 

Rebecca was initially very supportive of Aaron to Robert when she entered the Mill bedroom. Her surprise when Robert called Aaron his “EX”, then telling him to not “give up on him”, and that Robert would soon “sort him out” all continues to support the idea that Rebecca was Aaron’s friend. Emily Head’s portrayal in these scenes is also convincing that she is there to be a friend to Robert, and by extension Aaron. And the dialog from Rebecca the days after the event, shows she is apologetic for how she has betrayed Aaron to both Robert and Chas.

Not wanting this to sound as I’m demonizing Robert Sugden because I absolutely am NOT (I adore him as a character and believe he belongs with Aaron), but one of those people he wanted to hurt besides Aaron could also be Rebecca White.

Robert had been venting about how he was feeling after his visit with Aaron to really the only person he could call a friend in the village. As he offloaded while drinking, the idea formed that he wanted to hurt Aaron. Robert saying that his head was “all over the place” and being bitter and an “unhinged character” used Rebecca for that purpose. But, again his head being all over the place would he not also be bitter that his friend Rebecca was partially responsible for his current pain. It was her that helped amplify Aaron’s insecurities, causing the fight that lead to Aaron’s actions that put him in prison, where he became hooked on drugs leading to another fight that made Robert think Aaron had given up on him and their future.

Robert says “NO seriously, things haven’t been the same for me and Aaron since you turned up. We were good together weren’t we.” (Robert leans into kiss). Just an alternative view, but could this be the statement that started his plan to hurt Rebecca at the same time?

Robert is NOT the bad guy (being demonized by the showrunner) just as Rebecca is not the victim (contrary to the showrunners statement). Robert is a very hurt individual who has hit “rock bottom” with alcohol skewing his vision and reasoning on his situation, and self-destructed in the worst possible way, lashing out and hurting those people that he cares for and that care for him (Aaron & Rebecca).

The big repercussions of Robert’s action of the night, being the father in Rebecca’s unwanted pregnancy and blackmail to hide his betrayal and after effects), he becomes exactly what Ryan says about the character he portrays. Robert uses the “other side” (dark side) of his personality to save the one relationship that matters the most to him and protect the person he loves from any additional pain since his ordeal in prison.

Opinion and Story Direction:

I don’t want to believe Iain MacLeod would introduce Rebecca White only to be a plot device for this poorly concocted, executed and clichéd “cheating” story to give the lads a baby in the “Who’s the Daddy” mess to come. Rebecca is not Kasim who was simply a plot device for Robert and Aaron’s story and had little to do with Finn’s own story other than he himself was basically a plot device in the same story. His reactions/reasons for interacting with Kasim were nothing more than as secondary pale story to provide background information/catalyst allowing for the larger Robert/Aaron/Rebecca overall story. 

Danny Miller stated he and Emily Head had a discussion about the current story and agreed “how could you ever look at that person in the same way?” We know Aaron will confront Rebecca and the “tables turn a little bit” during the conversation. The teasers also tell us that he tells Robert he’ll be there for him to support him as a father.

The entire statement of “how could you even look at that person in the same way?” and the “tables turning a little bit” brings to mind that Aaron will probably see her different after their conversation. I think more important though, is if the “tables turning a little bit” is for Aaron and Rebecca to understand they each had their own part to play in the entire situation along with Robert. None of them alone are the villain, just like none of them alone are the victim. They all share the blame, the consequences of their actions, and the ability to forgive the others.

And just like Aaron taking a more adult approach to the situation with Robert, I suspect he will continue to take that same adult approach with Rebecca, which could be instrumental in the “redemption” that Iain MacLeod hopes Rebecca White will have in the future with the fans.

And if Aaron can take a more adult approach with her, I think I just might be able to give her another chance myself.

A positive spin…

It may not be ideal for any of the fans, including myself for Rebecca to remain in the orbit of Robert and Aaron, but having the three characters interact has given us some extraordinary performances by Aaron, Ryan and even Emily. We have been witness to a vast array of emotions with Robert and Aaron. From the happy (proposal/wedding) to the sad (fight with ring removal/ picnic table outside Woolie aft wedding reception, prison separation and impacts on Robert, Aaron, and Liv), to the absolutely devastating (self-destruction and betrayal).

As much as I want Robert and Aaron to live “Happily Ever After”, I’d much rather both be on my screen more often and for long term, so I can rejoice with their triumphs and cry with their heartbreaks. And if that means Rebecca White is present for the foreseeable future with the “Who’s the Daddy” aspect and even longer if need be, then so be it. Just think of it this way and remember, not only has she been the instrument for heartbreak (the dirty slapper- just kiddin’ there Emily), but she has also been a catalyst for some of Robert and Aaron’s happiest scenes of late (proposal, Mill purchase, and wedding to name a few).

*DISCLAIMERS and CLOSING:

I consider myself one of the harshest critics of Iain MacLeod. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I do NOT hate him. Cheating and infidelity stories are unfortunately the primary and easiest vehicle for soaps to add drama, not to mention increasing it with the whole “who’s the daddy” aspect thrown in for good measure. I just don’t quite understand why he wanted to pursue this story line and its direction with Robert and Aaron.

My conspiracy theories, alternative ideas, and opinions do not take away from the problems* with the execution up to the 16-March-2016 episode, or the other problems that were created with the entire “revisionist” version of Rebecca White’s character and the additional backstory with Robert Sugden that was created with the prior forced abortion. I continue to shake my head at what the ____ Iain MacLeod, the storyliners, and/or the script writers/editors were thinking with that “TURD” of a twist and the complete storyline.

And as Chas has said in the past, “You can roll a turd in as much glitter as you want, but it will always be the same underneath.”

My critiques, analysis, and just all around sarcastic posts aside about Rebecca White’s character problems and the entire story, I find it even more disturbing that as the showrunner, he and his staff did not foresee the potential problems with how this was developed and executed. And it is NOT just because I hate that Robert cheated on Aaron, but that as the story progressed, it spun out of control and became muddled, then added layer upon layer to the negative perceptions around bisexuality, biphobic commentary, and disparaging comments/feelings about individuals with mental health concerns. Not to mention other concerns with consent issues, and so on.

Though unintended, it is those perceptions that have become the narrative for a large portion of not only an extremely marginalized demographic of viewers that lack positive portrayal within the broader film and television industry, but for other viewers as well.

I don’t believe it possible to address each incident as different viewing demographics are incensed with past, current or future stories, especially if as I truly believe this was unintended. An apology would not in my opinion be necessary given this perception and the misunderstanding/hurt/pain being an unfortunate side effect; I do however think in the very least a simple statement acknowledging how the execution (concept, development, scripting, etc) has been perceived would help re-establish some trust with the viewing community, especially for those impacted. This could allow closure on those concerns so we all could move forward and focus on the continued drama yet to unfold.

*Disclaimer: I do NOT hate Iain MacLeod (or anyone associated with Emmerdale production). As the showrunner for Emmerdale, he has a responsibility for the lives of fifty or so fictitious characters. He cannot devote his career to any one person (Aaron or Robert or even Rebecca) or couple (Robert & Aaron) that reside in Emmerdale. On the other side, he cannot ensure any one person (ME) or faction with the viewing audience will always be happy with his decisions. 

More importantly, he has an awesome responsibility to ensure Emmerdale is successful, not only for his own personal and financial wellbeing, but that of the entire production staff. My snarky and sometimes bitter commentary aside, I do NOT believe he is actively trying to destroy any characters, couples, or the show itself.

In a brilliant scene with Robert and Aaron last year, Aaron asks Robert if he is “winding” up Chrissie again. Robert, being the witty rogue that can spit out a great one liner, simply responds with “Yep! Everyone needs a hobby!”

Well, my hobby is to be a snarky little shite to Iain MacLeod. Not just to keep him on his toes and wind him up (because again, I’m that flippin’ important), but to enlighten and entertain the masses (meaning primarily myself, but anyone else who wants to venture into the dark recesses of my psyche be my guest) on my Robron conspiracy theorist nutter ideas!

I’m adding this last piece only to address a few straggling comments I’ve seen on Twitter here and there with the release of the Emily Head, Ryan Hawley, and Danny Miller interviews. I do NOT, repeat, DO NOT believe that Emily Head, Ryan Hawley, or Danny Miller were paraded out at the press event to support Iain MacLeod’s story direction or version of events. Nor do I have so little faith, disregard, and disrespect for them that I think they would purposely spew talking points approved by Iain and company just to save their own jobs as some have suggested on social media. (This is a polite paraphrase again)

These very talented actors and actress, just like Iain MacLeod himself, are professionals here to entertain us with the world they create. We get to see the passion that Danny, Ryan and Emily as individuals bring to the characters we both love and hate. It’s that same passion we see as they bring these characters to life that demonstrate for me that this isn’t just “a job” or a “paycheck” for them, but something each find fulfilling and rewarding for their own reasons.

We only have Iain’ MacLeod’s statement in a prior interview to support this for him since we do not get to see him on our screens, but I’m certain he and ALL of the other very talented individuals behind the curtains with Emmerdale production approach their positions the same way.

I am critical of this story and it is because of my love of Robert and Aaron, them individually and as a couple, that I am so vehemently voicing my own opinion on why I feel this has been a failure. I may point my fingers and be snarky toward Iain, the storyliner, and any other number of individuals within the team, it does not mean I respect any of them and their individual contributions any less than I respect Emily, Ryan and Danny for theirs. And I would hope that their passion is not dissuaded by anything they should read or hear by me or anyone else’s social media posts or presence.

About me: I have given up on almost ALL television shows that I have watched with any interest within the last year. This includes all serial soap dramas (EastEnders, Hollyoaks, Coronation Street), and just about any other show I was passionate about (Shadow Hunters, Doctor Who {especially after Clara introduction as companion}, Supernatural, etc.). Emmerdale is the only show that I have consistently watched since 2008/9 and not given up on as of yet.

I was angry when the episode of 16-March-2017 aired, swearing that I would give up on it also, feeling the last show I had any interest in or passion for was gone after crossing that line. It was only seeing Danny Miller’s tweet the next day saying “Your passion & love for the characters & the show, makes us want to push you away & pull you back in. It’s a journey. Plenty more to come.” that kept me “hanging on” so to speak. That was later followed up with an article I read about a storyliner’s comments/thoughts on the event/characters that increased my interest in staying tuned in.

Danny’s tweet, the storyliners comments, and seeing other fans on social media who were brave enough to voice their own opinions and thoughts and not ostracize other fans when their opinions differed allowed me to refocus. Now, instead of solely being angry, bitter, and bitching about the show and characters I love that I was ready to give up, I try to redirect my energies to maintain some passion for this show and characters by injecting my own brand of “humour” through alternative thoughts, conspiracy theories, and overall snarky commentary.

None of this is meant as a personal attack on anyone within the show itself or any fan or individual that may read my rantings.

Peace & Love to you all

[marymosley]

The Trolling Of Bill Barr: How Politics Has Outstripped Meaning

Below is my column in the Hill newspaper on the rising attacks against Attorney General Bill Barr even before the redacted report has been released. Many in the media has notably omitted critical facts like Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein helped write the summary and also concluded that there was not case for criminal obstruction to be made against President Trump. There may be grounds to criticize Barr for his redactions, but critics omit the fact that Robert Mueller’s office is assisting in those redactions. I have a long relationship with Barr and testified in favor of his confirmation. However, I will not hesitate to criticize his actions when it is warranted. For example, I do not approve of the Justice Department refusing to defend the Affordable Care Act — disregarding the function of the Department to defend duly passed laws. Yet, Barr’s conduct with regard to the report and thus far been open and consistent with what he said in this confirmation hearing.

Here is the column:

In the novel “1984,” author George Orwell wrote that “if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought.” Democrats appear to be taking that idea to heart this week with their bizarre outcry over Attorney General William Barr referring to the government “spying” that targeted Trump presidential campaign figures. Suddenly, the term “spying” was declared as categorically exclusive of any intelligence surveillance.

As someone who has done classified national security work since the Reagan administration, I was surprised by the new Democratic dialectic, but it is not the first time that I missed the memo on the updated meaning of common terms, from “wiretapping” to “collusion.” The problem for Barr is that contemporary politics has outstripped common meaning. That was evident in his two hearings in Congress this week. His answers appeared immaterial to the discussion, and lawmakers raised the objection that Barr could not possibly have read the special counsel’s report and conclusions in the 48 hours that it had taken to issue his summary of the findings.

Of course, after the report was submitted, many pundits suggested that Barr might just “sit” on it or give no information at all while refusing to release any part of it. Instead, he took only 48 hours and the narrative changed. At the House hearing, Representative Nita Lowey sarcastically called it all “quite extraordinary” that he “received a very serious detailed report, hundreds of pages of high-level information, weighed the factors and conclusions at length, outlined, prepared, edited, and released” the memo in less than 48 hours. “To me, to do this, it seems your mind must have been already made up. How did you do it?” Lowey asked him.

The response from Barr was as clear as it was crushing. He explained that he did not just get the conclusions of Robert Mueller but that the basic findings had been disclosed weeks earlier. He said that his conclusion on the lack of criminal obstruction by President Trump was reached together with Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein, who Democrats have maintained for almost two years is essential and unassailable in reaching such findings. Finally, Barr disclosed that the special counsel staff is assisting in making redactions, the report came with summaries and Mueller had been consulted on his prior letters.

None of that mattered. It did not matter that Rosenstein described the questioning of the intentions of Barr or the necessity for redactions as “completely bizarre” and that, in his view, Barr has been “as forthcoming as he can.” The narrative has continued unabated, and billionaire Tom Steyer has even funded a national commercial repeating how ridiculous it is that Barr could have determined the conclusions of the special counsel report in just two days. His words simply did not matter until they did.

Senator Jeanne Shaheen asked why the attorney general was evidently looking into the basis for the secret investigation into the 2016 campaign. Barr explained that he was concerned about any kind of spying, foreign or domestic, on our political process. Shaheen was shocked and said, “You are not suggesting, though, that spying occurred.” Barr was again very direct and measured when he answered, “I think spying did occur. But the question is whether it was predicated, adequately predicated.” He then continued, “I am not suggesting it was not adequately predicated, but I need to explore that. I am not saying that improper surveillance occurred. I am saying that I am concerned about it and looking into it. That is all.”

Washington went into its now signature feigned vapors. Speaker Nancy Pelosi denounced the use of “spying” and said, “I do not trust Barr.” Senate Minority Leader Charles Schumer called it “peddling conspiracy theories,” while House Intelligence Committee Chairman Adam Schiff said the word meant that Barr was “spewing partisan talking points” and striking yet “another destructive blow to our democratic institutions.”

The most mortified observer was fired FBI Director James Comey, who took a moment on his book tour and declared, “When I hear that kind of language used, it is concerning because the FBI and the Department of Justice conduct court-ordered electronic surveillance. If the attorney general has come to the belief that that should be called spying, wow.”

That was also my reaction. Just wow. For years, “spying” and “surveillance” have been synonymous. Indeed, Democrats and the media have used the terms interchangeably, until another language change was spontaneously declared this week. It was all too familiar. Early during his administration, Trump accused the government of “wiretapping” campaign officials. The media went into a frenzy, calling that a “fake scandal” and a “diversion.”

It was later shown that campaign figures were targeted by the FBI and that secret Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act orders were based on an application that relied on the Steele dossier funded by the Clinton campaign. Obama national security adviser Susan Rice categorically denied that she ordered the “unmasking” of the names of Trump associates under surveillance but later admitted that was a lie. None of that mattered again. Instead, the media chose to focus on the use of “wiretapping” to insist that no literal wiretapping occurred.

From the outset, it was an absurd point. “Wiretapping” was previously often used as a generality for surveillance. “Surveillance” was a term that came into vogue later. Indeed, the Supreme Court has commonly used “wiretapping” or “eavesdropping” for “surveillance” in its opinions. There is no physical splicing of wires needed in modern surveillance. However, the entire point was that the discussion was focused on the lexicon.

The same thing occurred at the start of the special counsel investigation. Some of us supported the appointment of Mueller but warned that there was no crime of “collusion” and that related crimes such as conspiracy were highly unlikely to be established. The media discussed whether Trump was guilty of collusion, despite there being no such crime in the federal code. It did not matter until an actual alleged crime of obstruction became available, and then suddenly collusion was the context for any possible crime.

Trump is equally untethered by language. He calls his critics “traitors” and nimbly changes the meaning of even the clearest statements such as “Mexico will pay for the wall.” Neither language nor facts prove a burden for the president. If all of this is confusing, it is because you have not spent any time recently on college campuses. Speech codes are now common, and the meaning of terms is based on how language is received rather than intended. Language is now indeterminate and can easily be declared “microaggressive” solely on how it is received rather than intended.

In the same way, it does not matter that what Barr meant was reasonable or that he immediately clarified “wiretapping” as “improper surveillance.” It was important to portray as an absurdity any suggestion of the Obama administration spying on a Republican campaign, even though two key officials were targeted during the campaign. So language now reflects our politics as unhinged and undefined. We have been reduced to a language of trolls. As explained in “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,” it is not hard. “Anyone can speak troll. All you have to do is point and grunt.”

Jonathan Turley is the Shapiro Professor of Public Interest Law at George Washington University. You can follow him on Twitter @JonathanTurley.

The Trolling Of Bill Barr: How Politics Has Outstripped Meaning published first on https://immigrationlawyerto.tumblr.com/

[populistmedia]

[EXCLUSIVE] Day in the life of an activist: Walk Away Campaign Founder Brandon Straka

Brandon Straka is the founder of the #WalkAway Campaign, and he shares his thoughts with Populist Media readers. Thi is an article written by Brandon. You can find him: on Twitter On Facebook This is Brandon's First video that helped him start a large and growing movement of Facebook testimonials: https://twitter.com/usminority/status/1007191747355729920 AND THIS IS HIS STORY, IN HIS WORDS: Six weeks ago I was a normal guy. Just a normal guy in an increasingly abnormal world. The majority of my agitation usually being derived by the ever-worsening breakdown of subway reliability on my long commutes back and forth to my apartment in Harlem, and the majority of my stress hinging on swinging my monthly rent and student loan payments. My life was, by most accepted measures, typical. But like many other Americans, I also carried an additional burden through my day today. A burden which hangs darkly over the landscape of normal life, making it impossible to forget that at any moment the thunder may crack, the lightning may strike, and once again, the downpour begin to siege. You see, I live amongst people who have become unhinged. In a liberal city like New York, the tenets of liberal ideology are sacrosanct and Trump Derangement is a celebrated condition. One is often reminded while engaging in a conversation where they fall on the privilege hierarchy totem pole. Furthermore, lest we allow our privilege to make us complacently presumptuous, deftly alert watchdogs reside in plenty to assure that we not assume to know another person’s preferred gender pronouns, that the world would be an indescribable utopia if heterosexual white men received their righteous abdication, and that no matter what you may have experienced in your life or what you are currently going through- that dark-skinned lady sitting across from you on the subway has things much, much worse. The President of the United States never leaves the purview of most liberals’ minds. He is the boogie man- always lurking- perhaps in the closet, perhaps under the bed, but he’s there... always. Like an unwanted fixture in a Manhattan studio apartment, he resides in their minds, taking up space, making it impossible for them to imagine arranging the thoughts in their minds without the obstacle of...HIM in the layout. He appears in conversation constantly. The rules of engagement now so acceptably lax that even the most illogical introduction brought about by non-sequitor or abrupt emotionally charged asides is considered common play. His omnipresent influence over the thoughts, plans, considerations, and of course, the most valuable liberal commodity- feelings- of leftists is inescapable. “How was your day today?”, “I mean, it was fine... considering how bad things are these days.” Thankfully, I am also inspired to be surrounded by the selflessly brave, “All we can do is continue to resist” I am told. This full force of this resistance usually manifests itself in the form of a facebook profile pic border garnering that very word, or a posted meme reminding us that this hero among us is very, very “woke”. I myself used to be a liberal. In the spring of 2017, just months after the election of Donald Trump, I had what is commonly referred to as a “red-pill experience”. I didn’t mean to take this pill. I didn’t actually even know it existed. I ended up swallowing the pill by accident- and tried my best to spit it out multiple times along the way. It began with a need to understand how half of the voting population could support Donald Trump. The media sources I trusted- CNN, MSNBC, The Huffington Post, and of course the greatest resource of all- my educated liberal friends had been affirming and reaffirming for months that this man was a racist. A bigot. A homophobe. And so much more. And his followers were just as bad! After all, how else could we explain away that 15 second soundbite that got so much airplay, in which we clearly saw this monster on the right mocking the disability of a reporter to the rousing cheers of his rabid brain-washed followers. It was a sickening sight to behold. I found myself unable to get through a day without feeling that pit in my stomach that reminded me how much I hated this man, and felt trapped under a dome of his domination- trapped in a world with those who covertly supported all of this- while I was unable to identify those who had betrayed our common decency. I needed to understand how this could happen in order to find a modicum of peace. I, too, had become Trump Deranged. So I began by taking to social media and pleading with Trump voters to help me understand. Most of the time, nobody would answer me. The more i asked and went unanswered, the angrier I became. I made a vow to never return to my home in the midwest again. I considered cutting off my parents. What other choice did I have? The media told me every day of the wave of violent crimes against minorities that he had brought on by “dog whistling” to his most dark and hateful base. Story after story was shared on social media by terrified LGBT people and racial minorities, with the rapidity of machine gun fire, warning us that the next day would bring an Executive Order repealing our hard-earned rights. When the orders never came to fruition, they provided a reasonable excuse, and ominously assured us it would be coming next week. How could our fellow Americans do this to us? And why don’t they care? Why won’t they answer me and be held accountable?? Finally, after many weeks, a crack appeared in the dam. I was reached out to by a school administrator who still resides in the quiet plains of the rural midwest. She told me all about Obama era regulations that resulted in the destruction of local small businesses and damaged their communities. She told me about the influx of illegal immigrants and the very real impact that these things have on the real people in small town America who are affected most. I was shocked and confused. The media had told me for years about the great and seemingly infallible man who had held office for 8 years, the man who held the rare accolade of completing a “scandal free” presidency. I had been told time and again that anybody who could criticize such a nearly perfect human being who honored us with a nearly perfect presidency could only do so because they are clearly consumed with hatred, driven mad by a black man occupying America’s most esteemed office. I researched the points this woman had made and was amazed to find that what she had said to me was true. My eyes had been opened a bit, but... this was hardly a smoking gun. And besides, maybe the liberal media did go a little soft on Obama. But that doesn’t explain or justify supporting the second coming of Hitler for Obama’s replacement. And what about that incident of mocking a reporter’s disability? No amount of dissatisfaction for our previous president could justify that national disgrace! And so back to social media I took to ask middle America what became of their conscience? How could they have overlooked this? This time it was a former babysitter, Diane, who reached out to me privately. “Have you seen this?”, she asked in her private message- including a link to a video titled “Debunking that Trump mocked the disabled reporter”. I was stunned and angry just reading the title. How brainwashed could these people be?? The media had explained to those of us on the left that we were being “gaslighted” by those on the right- now my own babysitter was trying to gaslight me, too! Arrogantly, I gave Diane an “lol” and told her I’d watch this propaganda piece when I got home. And so I did. And what I saw next was officially the moment the red pill touched my tongue. I stared, spinning and disillusioned as I watched the compilation of footage in the video- mostly of Trump on his campaign, some clips even going back ten plus years, showing Donald Trump using the exact same voice and gesture used to mock the reporter- but in every circumstance he was imitating somebody who was groveling- caught in a lie, behaving dishonestly. For the first time I watched the entirety of the segment of him telling the story about the reporter at his rally. And it became very clear to me. He did not mock that man’s disability. But the media I trusted told me that he did. What was going on? I began to dig deeper, and the more I researched the more unwanted truth was presented to me. I didn’t want to accept what I was discovering. Stories of black Americans going to Trump rallies to support him and being cut out of the shot when the liberal media arrived and framed up their camera angle to capture an image consistent with their “white people only” narrative. Numerous moments which were isolated and taken out of the context of Trump speaking on the campaign trail, spun to give the impression that his rallies were conventions of hate and the resurrection of racism and bigotry. The cover ups for Hillary Clinton. The dishonest poll skewing. The omission of inconvenient truths because they revealed the good in this man and those who support him. The dishonest manipulation and peddling of fear- primarily to those in minority communities, keeping us suspended in a constant state of fear. Donald Trump was not the master under the bed. It was the media. And the politicians on the left who were in cahoots with their agenda. I tried talking about what I had learned with those around me- friends and fellow New Yorkers. And most usually I was met with anger and contempt. “What are you doing!? So what, you love Trump now??”. And at that time, I didn’t. I truly just wanted to understand- and share what I was learning with someone else who could understand me. In the isolation of my experience, I took to the internet and sought comfort in finding others who had been through this same type of awakening that was happening to me. This is when I discovered this term... “red pilled”. There were others. Other people had spent their lives, like me, believing in the good of liberalism- even as we watched it be co-opted and absorbed by the very characteristics it claims to fight against. Others, like me, had discovered that the media is capable of not only omitting truth when delivering the news, but actually beginning with a deceitful narrative and plucking out moments and sound bites to twist and spin until they neatly support their agenda. That the left wing politicians who for so long had assured me they would support me and the gay community at large, went along with the false narratives and fear mongering that kept me and my community up at night. I attempted to expose these things on social media. My intentions were pure- I didn’t want others to have to be afraid the way i was afraid. The response I got from fellow liberals and never Trumpers was astounding. When I was lucky, I would be unfriended. In many other circumstances, friends and family used social media to proclaim me mentally ill, unstable, on drugs, self-loathing, starved for attention, insane, stupid, ignorant, and a victim of body- snatching- a once good person now replaced by a brainwashed bigot. My invitations to social events came to a standstill. The texts stopped. The calls stopped. When people ran into me in public they would often behave uncomfortably, squirming to get away, treating me as a defective who was frightening to be around. The truth about liberalism became clear to me. This is a religion, one which demands unquestioning groupthink to be an accepted member of the clergy. Any dissenting opinions on any host of issues ranging from gun rights to the legitimacy of the wage gap is grounds for removal. To belong, you must believe in a privilege hierarchy which separates people by race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and organizes them into camps of victims and oppressors. You must believe the media, no matter how preposterous the lies are that they tell. You must hate the president based off of these lies. You must engage in acts of resistance based of this hatred- including supporting jokes about his beheading, urinating on his name on a public street, threatening and intimidating his supporters. You must always retain instant access to anger- so as to become enraged at any moment when the signal to do so is sent out by the left wing media and politicians. If you are unwilling to comply, the implications of this choice are clear. The threat of loss of friends, family, career and social standing are liberalism’s greatest weapons to intimidate its members into never straying the flock. Unfortunately for the left, they messed with the wrong guy. In May of 2018 I sat down to write what I call the “definitive manifesto” on everything that is wrong with the Democratic Party and liberalism. I shot a slick video using the script and devised a campaign to accompany the video, knowing there are surely hundreds of thousands or more who have been waiting to be set free just as I had set myself free. I called the movement the #WalkAway Campaign. I encouraged others to #WalkAway from the Democratic Party and the hatred and rage which has now become synonymous with the left. I asked those who were willing to leave to tell their own stories by making video testimonials and posting them to the facebook group: the #WalkAway Campaign. I had hoped the campaign would be a success and that others would open their eyes and feel inspired by my lead. Just six weeks ago I released the video and the campaign. And back then, I was a normal guy living in an increasingly abnormal world. Now, everything is different. Within a month my video had received millions of views and been shared tens of thousands of times. Conservative media picked up on the movement. I dedicated myself to speaking to anybody who was willing to talk about the Campaign. No less than five interviews a day. Sometimes twelve. And the people began to #WalkAway in droves. Today, just six weeks after launch, the #WalkAway Campaign has nearly 120,000 members on facebook. Thousands of testimonials- video and written, by those who want civility to be the norm again. People who want their friends and family back. True patriots who fear an impending civil war and see #WalkAway as a possible last ditch effort to save America from imploding- done in by the dishonesty and derangement caused by the liberal media and current leftist lunacy. I have become a public figure. This is not something that scares me, nor is it something that I wish to run from. I’ve always been a leader. As a performer, I’ve always felt at home on a stage. I never dreamed I’d be leading an international movement as a conservative political figure. But I’ve now learned that God has a hell of a sense of humor. I’ve been called to action, and I take this call seriously. The response from the left regarding #WalkAway has been typical. They ignored us as long as they could. Then the denials. Then the lies. And then the retributions. They said the Campaign was a non-movement. A silly trending hashtag that was barely worth mentioning. As #WalkAway grew and the hashtag became one of the most used on the internet, out they came again with outlandish conspiracies about Russian bots and foreign interference. I have been accused of being a Putin puppet. I have been accused of being a (very stupid and very untalented) actor, hired by the Koch brothers, the GOP, the Trumps. After being recognized from television, I have been refused service in a store and labeled “alt-right”. I have had left wing news sources accuse me of working in tandem with subversive extremist clicks and organizations. They have attempted to erase the members of the #WalkAway Campaign, whom I call “the Patriots" by reporting that they are not real. Despite their video testimonials, these people who are bravely opening their hearts and minds for all the world to see and hear- telling their truth about the pain, disappointment and loss of hope they have experienced by those who engage in these very behaviors- they do not exist. They are “bots’. And the dishonest leftists have social media on their side. Facebook regularly removes thousands of members of the #WalkAway Campaign at a time. The platform has currently blocked my ability to message the Patriots or respond to their messages to me. Their ability to share about the group is also often blocked. Just as the left can not allow themselves to handle the thought that liberalism and the Democratic Party has scammed them, they can not allow themselves to accept that #WalkAway is a real movement and a real threat to their existence. The same irrational, unhinged, inability to deal with reality is manifesting itself once again in their refusal to listen to the real words of real people, and instead live in a state of denial about tens of thousands of people walking away from their party. Should the midterms and 2020 election prove to be a conservative windfall, the implication of this refusal to accept reality will surely show itself once again, in the belief by those remaining on the left that world is becoming even more racist, more hateful, and even more manipulated by outside propoganda. Sadly, many will never see that the truth of these assertions lies only in the mirror of the accuser. Read the full article

[populistmedia]

EXCLUSIVE: Day in the Life of an activist: Walk Away Campaign Founder Brandon Straka

Brandon Straka is the founder of the #WalkAway Campaign, and he shares his thoughts with Populist Media readers. Thi is an article written by Brandon. You can find him: on Twitter On Facebook This is Brandon's First video that helped him start a large and growing movement of Facebook testimonials: https://twitter.com/usminority/status/1007191747355729920 AND THIS IS HIS STORY, IN HIS WORDS: Six weeks ago I was a normal guy. Just a normal guy in an increasingly abnormal world. The majority of my agitation usually being derived by the ever-worsening breakdown of subway reliability on my long commutes back and forth to my apartment in Harlem, and the majority of my stress hinging on swinging my monthly rent and student loan payments. My life was, by most accepted measures, typical. But like many other Americans, I also carried an additional burden through my day today. A burden which hangs darkly over the landscape of normal life, making it impossible to forget that at any moment the thunder may crack, the lightning may strike, and once again, the downpour begin to siege. You see, I live amongst people who have become unhinged. In a liberal city like New York, the tenets of liberal ideology are sacrosanct and Trump Derangement is a celebrated condition. One is often reminded while engaging in a conversation where they fall on the privilege hierarchy totem pole. Furthermore, lest we allow our privilege to make us complacently presumptuous, deftly alert watchdogs reside in plenty to assure that we not assume to know another person’s preferred gender pronouns, that the world would be an indescribable utopia if heterosexual white men received their righteous abdication, and that no matter what you may have experienced in your life or what you are currently going through- that dark-skinned lady sitting across from you on the subway has things much, much worse. The President of the United States never leaves the purview of most liberals’ minds. He is the boogie man- always lurking- perhaps in the closet, perhaps under the bed, but he’s there... always. Like an unwanted fixture in a Manhattan studio apartment, he resides in their minds, taking up space, making it impossible for them to imagine arranging the thoughts in their minds without the obstacle of...HIM in the layout. He appears in conversation constantly. The rules of engagement now so acceptably lax that even the most illogical introduction brought about by non-sequitor or abrupt emotionally charged asides is considered common play. His omnipresent influence over the thoughts, plans, considerations, and of course, the most valuable liberal commodity- feelings- of leftists is inescapable. “How was your day today?”, “I mean, it was fine... considering how bad things are these days.” Thankfully, I am also inspired to be surrounded by the selflessly brave, “All we can do is continue to resist” I am told. This full force of this resistance usually manifests itself in the form of a facebook profile pic border garnering that very word, or a posted meme reminding us that this hero among us is very, very “woke”. I myself used to be a liberal. In the spring of 2017, just months after the election of Donald Trump, I had what is commonly referred to as a “red-pill experience”. I didn’t mean to take this pill. I didn’t actually even know it existed. I ended up swallowing the pill by accident- and tried my best to spit it out multiple times along the way. It began with a need to understand how half of the voting population could support Donald Trump. The media sources I trusted- CNN, MSNBC, The Huffington Post, and of course the greatest resource of all- my educated liberal friends had been affirming and reaffirming for months that this man was a racist. A bigot. A homophobe. And so much more. And his followers were just as bad! After all, how else could we explain away that 15 second soundbite that got so much airplay, in which we clearly saw this monster on the right mocking the disability of a reporter to the rousing cheers of his rabid brain-washed followers. It was a sickening sight to behold. I found myself unable to get through a day without feeling that pit in my stomach that reminded me how much I hated this man, and felt trapped under a dome of his domination- trapped in a world with those who covertly supported all of this- while I was unable to identify those who had betrayed our common decency. I needed to understand how this could happen in order to find a modicum of peace. I, too, had become Trump Deranged. So I began by taking to social media and pleading with Trump voters to help me understand. Most of the time, nobody would answer me. The more i asked and went unanswered, the angrier I became. I made a vow to never return to my home in the midwest again. I considered cutting off my parents. What other choice did I have? The media told me every day of the wave of violent crimes against minorities that he had brought on by “dog whistling” to his most dark and hateful base. Story after story was shared on social media by terrified LGBT people and racial minorities, with the rapidity of machine gun fire, warning us that the next day would bring an Executive Order repealing our hard-earned rights. When the orders never came to fruition, they provided a reasonable excuse, and ominously assured us it would be coming next week. How could our fellow Americans do this to us? And why don’t they care? Why won’t they answer me and be held accountable?? Finally, after many weeks, a crack appeared in the dam. I was reached out to by a school administrator who still resides in the quiet plains of the rural midwest. She told me all about Obama era regulations that resulted in the destruction of local small businesses and damaged their communities. She told me about the influx of illegal immigrants and the very real impact that these things have on the real people in small town America who are affected most. I was shocked and confused. The media had told me for years about the great and seemingly infallible man who had held office for 8 years, the man who held the rare accolade of completing a “scandal free” presidency. I had been told time and again that anybody who could criticize such a nearly perfect human being who honored us with a nearly perfect presidency could only do so because they are clearly consumed with hatred, driven mad by a black man occupying America’s most esteemed office. I researched the points this woman had made and was amazed to find that what she had said to me was true. My eyes had been opened a bit, but... this was hardly a smoking gun. And besides, maybe the liberal media did go a little soft on Obama. But that doesn’t explain or justify supporting the second coming of Hitler for Obama’s replacement. And what about that incident of mocking a reporter’s disability? No amount of dissatisfaction for our previous president could justify that national disgrace! And so back to social media I took to ask middle America what became of their conscience? How could they have overlooked this? This time it was a former babysitter, Diane, who reached out to me privately. “Have you seen this?”, she asked in her private message- including a link to a video titled “Debunking that Trump mocked the disabled reporter”. I was stunned and angry just reading the title. How brainwashed could these people be?? The media had explained to those of us on the left that we were being “gaslighted” by those on the right- now my own babysitter was trying to gaslight me, too! Arrogantly, I gave Diane an “lol” and told her I’d watch this propaganda piece when I got home. And so I did. And what I saw next was officially the moment the red pill touched my tongue. I stared, spinning and disillusioned as I watched the compilation of footage in the video- mostly of Trump on his campaign, some clips even going back ten plus years, showing Donald Trump using the exact same voice and gesture used to mock the reporter- but in every circumstance he was imitating somebody who was groveling- caught in a lie, behaving dishonestly. For the first time I watched the entirety of the segment of him telling the story about the reporter at his rally. And it became very clear to me. He did not mock that man’s disability. But the media I trusted told me that he did. What was going on? I began to dig deeper, and the more I researched the more unwanted truth was presented to me. I didn’t want to accept what I was discovering. Stories of black Americans going to Trump rallies to support him and being cut out of the shot when the liberal media arrived and framed up their camera angle to capture an image consistent with their “white people only” narrative. Numerous moments which were isolated and taken out of the context of Trump speaking on the campaign trail, spun to give the impression that his rallies were conventions of hate and the resurrection of racism and bigotry. The cover ups for Hillary Clinton. The dishonest poll skewing. The omission of inconvenient truths because they revealed the good in this man and those who support him. The dishonest manipulation and peddling of fear- primarily to those in minority communities, keeping us suspended in a constant state of fear. Donald Trump was not the master under the bed. It was the media. And the politicians on the left who were in cahoots with their agenda. I tried talking about what I had learned with those around me- friends and fellow New Yorkers. And most usually I was met with anger and contempt. “What are you doing!? So what, you love Trump now??”. And at that time, I didn’t. I truly just wanted to understand- and share what I was learning with someone else who could understand me. In the isolation of my experience, I took to the internet and sought comfort in finding others who had been through this same type of awakening that was happening to me. This is when I discovered this term... “red pilled”. There were others. Other people had spent their lives, like me, believing in the good of liberalism- even as we watched it be co-opted and absorbed by the very characteristics it claims to fight against. Others, like me, had discovered that the media is capable of not only omitting truth when delivering the news, but actually beginning with a deceitful narrative and plucking out moments and sound bites to twist and spin until they neatly support their agenda. That the left wing politicians who for so long had assured me they would support me and the gay community at large, went along with the false narratives and fear mongering that kept me and my community up at night. I attempted to expose these things on social media. My intentions were pure- I didn’t want others to have to be afraid the way i was afraid. The response I got from fellow liberals and never Trumpers was astounding. When I was lucky, I would be unfriended. In many other circumstances, friends and family used social media to proclaim me mentally ill, unstable, on drugs, self-loathing, starved for attention, insane, stupid, ignorant, and a victim of body- snatching- a once good person now replaced by a brainwashed bigot. My invitations to social events came to a standstill. The texts stopped. The calls stopped. When people ran into me in public they would often behave uncomfortably, squirming to get away, treating me as a defective who was frightening to be around. The truth about liberalism became clear to me. This is a religion, one which demands unquestioning groupthink to be an accepted member of the clergy. Any dissenting opinions on any host of issues ranging from gun rights to the legitimacy of the wage gap is grounds for removal. To belong, you must believe in a privilege hierarchy which separates people by race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and organizes them into camps of victims and oppressors. You must believe the media, no matter how preposterous the lies are that they tell. You must hate the president based off of these lies. You must engage in acts of resistance based of this hatred- including supporting jokes about his beheading, urinating on his name on a public street, threatening and intimidating his supporters. You must always retain instant access to anger- so as to become enraged at any moment when the signal to do so is sent out by the left wing media and politicians. If you are unwilling to comply, the implications of this choice are clear. The threat of loss of friends, family, career and social standing are liberalism’s greatest weapons to intimidate its members into never straying the flock. Unfortunately for the left, they messed with the wrong guy. In May of 2018 I sat down to write what I call the “definitive manifesto” on everything that is wrong with the Democratic Party and liberalism. I shot a slick video using the script and devised a campaign to accompany the video, knowing there are surely hundreds of thousands or more who have been waiting to be set free just as I had set myself free. I called the movement the #WalkAway Campaign. I encouraged others to #WalkAway from the Democratic Party and the hatred and rage which has now become synonymous with the left. I asked those who were willing to leave to tell their own stories by making video testimonials and posting them to the facebook group: the #WalkAway Campaign. I had hoped the campaign would be a success and that others would open their eyes and feel inspired by my lead. Just six weeks ago I released the video and the campaign. And back then, I was a normal guy living in an increasingly abnormal world. Now, everything is different. Within a month my video had received millions of views and been shared tens of thousands of times. Conservative media picked up on the movement. I dedicated myself to speaking to anybody who was willing to talk about the Campaign. No less than five interviews a day. Sometimes twelve. And the people began to #WalkAway in droves. Today, just six weeks after launch, the #WalkAway Campaign has nearly 120,000 members on facebook. Thousands of testimonials- video and written, by those who want civility to be the norm again. People who want their friends and family back. True patriots who fear an impending civil war and see #WalkAway as a possible last ditch effort to save America from imploding- done in by the dishonesty and derangement caused by the liberal media and current leftist lunacy. I have become a public figure. This is not something that scares me, nor is it something that I wish to run from. I’ve always been a leader. As a performer, I’ve always felt at home on a stage. I never dreamed I’d be leading an international movement as a conservative political figure. But I’ve now learned that God has a hell of a sense of humor. I’ve been called to action, and I take this call seriously. The response from the left regarding #WalkAway has been typical. They ignored us as long as they could. Then the denials. Then the lies. And then the retributions. They said the Campaign was a non-movement. A silly trending hashtag that was barely worth mentioning. As #WalkAway grew and the hashtag became one of the most used on the internet, out they came again with outlandish conspiracies about Russian bots and foreign interference. I have been accused of being a Putin puppet. I have been accused of being a (very stupid and very untalented) actor, hired by the Koch brothers, the GOP, the Trumps. After being recognized from television, I have been refused service in a store and labeled “alt-right”. I have had left wing news sources accuse me of working in tandem with subversive extremist clicks and organizations. They have attempted to erase the members of the #WalkAway Campaign, whom I call “the Patriots" by reporting that they are not real. Despite their video testimonials, these people who are bravely opening their hearts and minds for all the world to see and hear- telling their truth about the pain, disappointment and loss of hope they have experienced by those who engage in these very behaviors- they do not exist. They are “bots’. And the dishonest leftists have social media on their side. Facebook regularly removes thousands of members of the #WalkAway Campaign at a time. The platform has currently blocked my ability to message the Patriots or respond to their messages to me. Their ability to share about the group is also often blocked. Just as the left can not allow themselves to handle the thought that liberalism and the Democratic Party has scammed them, they can not allow themselves to accept that #WalkAway is a real movement and a real threat to their existence. The same irrational, unhinged, inability to deal with reality is manifesting itself once again in their refusal to listen to the real words of real people, and instead live in a state of denial about tens of thousands of people walking away from their party. Should the midterms and 2020 election prove to be a conservative windfall, the implication of this refusal to accept reality will surely show itself once again, in the belief by those remaining on the left that world is becoming even more racist, more hateful, and even more manipulated by outside propoganda. Sadly, many will never see that the truth of these assertions lies only in the mirror of the accuser. Read the full article