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brewsterispunkk · 1 year

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THE TUTOR

eddie munson x reader

part 1/4

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader, eddie munson x shy!reader (only one use of y/n and I cringed writing it)

rating: 18+ mature! minors be gone!

summary: reader has had a secret crush on Eddie Munson for months, only she has been too scared to tell him. When she’s forced to tutor him, she lets it slip that she feels like she’s missed out on the normal “high school experience.” Eddie aims to change that.

A/N: this has been in my drafts since LAST MAY!!! & i am just now finishing it jfc. this is part one to a series I’m looking to make three parts! I’ll finish it if it’s the last thing I do!

You hated first period. Always had, ever since sophomore year when you’d had AP literature with the juniors and Carol Perkins had made it her life’s work to make your life a living hell.

You didn’t know exactly what you had done to make her hate you so much, but early on in the year, she’d made it abundantly clear that you were going to be her new target. And you, being the only awkward, braces-faced sophomore in the class, had elected to suck it up and take the bullying.

After all, she was telling you everything you already knew; your hair was frizzy, your teeth were crooked, your acne was ugly and awful. The usual things that you, with the same awful self esteem that was characteristic of every knobby-kneed 14-year-old, had already heard and already believed.

Eventually, when your study-buddy and the only other underclassman in the class, Nancy Wheeler, found out about the full extent of the bullying, she’d done something about it. She had just started dating Steve Harrington at that point, and despite his larger than life hair and not so great reputation, he was nice to you by association. He was the one who got Carol to stop.

Still though, you thought that that god-awful year of excruciating first-period classes had ruined them for you for good; conditioned you somehow into expecting the worst from your first class of the day so that now, as a senior, you still dreaded it.

Today was no different.

You tapped your foot distractedly in the back seat of Steve’s car as he pulled out of your neighborhood.

“For the last time, Robin, no you cannot play the new Clash cassette. Put it away—“

“Oh come on, Harrington. It’s good.” Robin sighed exasperated. She’d been your next door neighbor since you were five, and your best friend ever since.

“Oh, oh! Like the new Madonna album?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised as he looked at Robin in the passenger seat.

“Or the Duran Duran one?” You piped in, biting your nails and looking at her expectantly. Immediately, her head whipped back to you, mouth open in a silent gasp.

“Wha—“ she made a choked sound, looking between you and Steve before bringing her gaze back to you, narrowing her eyes. “Who’s side are you on?”

“Uhm, the side of good music.” You countered, playfully sassing your best friend.

“Wow..” she drawled dramatically, interrupting you.

“And right now,” you continued. “Harrington has the better mixtape. Sorry!” You batted her hand away as she reached back to smack your arm.

“Boom!” Steve declared triumphantly, raising his hands from the wheel for a split-second. “Sorry, Robs, we love you but if I have to listen to one more of your mix tapes, I’m gonna—“

“Yeah, yeah! I get it.” Robin was silent for a moment before turning around to glance between the two of you. “You know, every day I remember how it was me that got this little group together, and every day it comes back to bite me in the ass.”

“Oh right,” Steve scoffed. “You’re forgetting, I’ve known y/n since junior year, and I’ve only known you for like, I don’t know, nine months.”

“Okay, but you two weren’t friends.” She gave Steve a pointed look. “It wasn’t until I convinced her to come work with us at Scoops Ahoy that we all started hanging out. So what I should be hearing is ‘thank you Robin.’”

In the rear view, you saw Steve roll his eyes at her antics, a smirk on his face.

“Actually,” you pointed out. “Steve and i hung out almost every day sophomore year.”

“Yeah,” Robin pressed. “But that was because of miss prissy-pants, Nancy Wheeler, not because you two were friends.”

You bristled a bit at your best friend’s name for Nancy. You knew she probably didn’t mean anything by it, but still. She didn’t know Nancy like you did. And Nancy had been nice to you when you didn’t have many friends besides Robin. She’d made it her problem when you were being bullied and did what she could to stop it, when she didn’t have to.

You and Nancy hadn’t really talked much since she and Steve broke up. Even after the whole ordeal last summer, with the mall “fire,” and Russian agents in Hawkins, you two hadn’t really reconnected. But there was no bad blood there. You wished her the best.

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve interjected. “I think she gets bragging rights for knowing me longer.”

You laughed at that.

“Oh whatever,” Robin shook her head, leaning her elbow on Steve’s open window, bopping her head to the music pouring through the speakers.

“Good god, I don’t wanna be going back there.” She groaned as Hawkins High came into view. “It’s not too late to skip you know.” She craned her head back to look at you, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“I’m highly considering it.” You bounced your knee, trying to relieve some of the tension in your limbs.

“Ugh, no I can’t.” Robin exasperated. “My moms gonna kill me if she finds out I skipped again.”

There goes my chance, you thought, knowing there’s no way you’d skip without her.

“Yeah, I do not miss this place, gotta say.” Steve mused as he pulled into the parking lot. Robin rolled her eyes at him. You chuckled. They fought like an old married couple.

“I have Ms. Taylor first period,” you groaned at the memory of the stern, mean older woman who you had for home room this semester.

“Oh god,” Steve laughed. You smacked his shoulder. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you two at 3.”

You and Robin begrudgingly exited Steve’s car, facing the pit of despair known as Hawkins High School.

Thank god this was your last year, you thought to yourself.

As you eyed down the beige brick building, you could’ve sworn you felt a bit of your soul get sucked out. It may sound dramatic, but it was true. You felt yourself retreat into yourself the closer you got.

Something about Hawkins high just did that to people. Made them retreat and put on whatever mask they had to go get through the day. You were no exception.

“Let’s get this over with,” Robin mumbled beside you, beginning to walk toward the doors.

“Let’s.” You sighed back.

- - - - - -

There was one aspect of first period English with Ms. Taylor that you considered a saving grace—not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Eddie Munson.

You weren’t sure why it started, if you were honest with yourself.

In fact, at the beginning of the year, you, like everyone else, were actually a little bit terrified of the lanky, tall metalhead that the rest of the school had dubbed “the freak.”

Before this year, you hadn’t really had many encounters with Eddie Munson. You’d known of him, sure, but never really interacted with him. Besides the few random outbursts he’d have in the cafeteria, and one time when you’d given him a pencil in your art elective freshman year, you’d kept your distance. Most of what you’d heard about him came from the kids; which meant they were lies, at worst, and exaggerations at best. You could tell they admired him from the way they spoke of him—Dustin in particular, who had spoken of Eddie in the way he’d only ever spoken of one person before: Steve. But that was the extent of your knowledge.

Eddie had been two years ahead of you technically, although now he was a senior, same as you, and stuck in the same miserable first period English class with Ms. Taylor.

It had started out innocent enough, you liked to tell yourself. You weren’t always swooning over him and his leather jackets or studded rings. It had just snowballed.

It had begun like this: it was the first day of your senior year, and to add to your nerves at a new dreadful year, Ms. Taylor had given you, and all your classmates, assigned seats.

Great, you’d thought. Just great. Now you had to sit next to a complete stranger while also being a complete ball of anxiety all class.

You were early. Much to your chagrin, Steve had insisted on picking you and Robin up earlier than usual because it was your first day, and what if you have trouble finding your classes. Completely ignoring the fact that you and Robin had gone to Hawkins High for three years and knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, it had gotten you here, 15 minutes early to the first bell, trapped in a room with no one other than Ms. Taylor, and Eddie Munson himself.

“You’ll be right there, beside Mr. Munson.” Ms Taylor had drawled monotonously, eyes focused on a stack of papers on her desk.

You froze, looking over at Eddie, who was scribbling down in a notebook in the second to last row of desks from the back. He looked up at you for a moment before going back to his writing.

“Did you hear me?” Ms Taylor said your last name. You snapped out of it, smiling over at her and gripping the strap to your backpack before making your way to the seat.

“Yeah. Sorry, Ms. Taylor.”

You sat down rigidly, looking anywhere but at Eddie. Ms Taylor left the room to refill her coffee cup in the teacher’s lounge, leaving you and him the only people in the room.

You felt your hands begin to shake at the impending doom of first period rolling around. You knew it was dumb; it’d been two years since the first-period-from-hell, and you still couldn’t shake your fear of home room. You clasped them together, folding your fingers on top of each other on the desk, trying to calm your breathing. Your heart pounded in your ears.

“Look, you can relax, okay,” Eddie’s annoyed voice beside you snapped you out of it. “I won’t bite.”

You looked over at him, his face looked impatient, though if you looked closely, you thought you could detect a little bit of hurt there too. Your eyebrows furrowed, before you realized what he must have been thinking.

He thought you were scared of him.

It made sense, though that was far from what was going through your head.

“No,” you began quietly, before clearing your throat. “That’s not what I—that’s not—that’s not it.”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbled, eyebrows raised as he continued writing.

That was the day it started. The watching him.

It’d begun as a way of coping; a way to distract yourself from Ms. Taylor’s droning on about Shakespeare, or the whispers of the two mean girls who sat at the front and liked to glance back at you and snicker.

Your therapist had mentioned the method to you a few months before, a way to maybe cope with your anxiety in anticipation with the upcoming school year. It was a method that your shrink had described as a way of ‘hyper-focusing’, or concentrating on one thing until the anxiety wore away.

And in the haze of your first day, you’d focused on Eddie.

But eventually, as the year wore on, it developed into something different.

You began to notice his hair; how it would fall over his face as he frowned in concentration at whatever he was writing in that book. His hands, big and flanked with gaudy silver rings. You began to wonder how they’d feel on your skin, running through your hair, over your stomach.

It was almost a type of game you played with yourself; a form of escapism. On days your anxiety got too much, the days your hands would sweat and your feet couldn’t cease their tapping, you could look beside you and focus on Eddie. And it would all fall away.

You supposed that’s why you kept your little obsession a secret; it was embarrassing.

Not the fact that you were infatuated with him, but the fact that you’d been using practically a complete stranger to talk yourself down from anxiety attacks. You hadn’t even told Robin, the person you shared everything with. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that this wasn’t some little crush or admiration—it was more than that.

But you refused to admit that to yourself, because there was one huge, glaring problem. That being that Eddie Munson hated you. You were sure of it.

It was as if after the awkward encounter you’d shared at the beginning of the year, he avoided you like the plague. Not looking, talking, or even so much as breathing your way once. And the one time when you’d gotten the nerve to ask him a question, he’d barely grunted out a response before the had rung and he was gone.

That had been the first and last time you’d attempted to talk to Eddie Munson. Your crush was doomed, you knew it. Not only were you convinced he couldn’t stand you, you also were almost positive that he still thought you were scared of him, like he did at the beginning of the year.

Which, to be fair, you were. Just not in that way. As far as Eddie was concerned, you were scared of him in the judgy, superficial, ill-intentioned way that the rest of Hawkins was, not in the butterflies, tongue-tied, make-your-hands-sweat way that you truly were.

Besides, even if you were the most confident person in the world (you were far from it), and if Eddie didn’t, for some inexplicable reason, hate you, you were sure that you would have absolutely no chance with him anyway. Because why would Eddie Munson, all crooked smiles and sure steps and kind eyes, be even the least bit interested in you? It was inconceivable. Because you were shy and scared and binary and everything he was not.

So, you’d deduced that you were doomed to wait out this life-ruining crush the same way you’d been doomed to wait out countless other things in your high school life: silently.

- - - - -

Today was no different than the other nearly insufferable first periods you’d endured this school year, aside from the fact that today was Monday, which brought with it a more tired you, and a much, much more irritable Ms Taylor.

She’d assigned two detentions so far this period, to Bradley Green and Doug Mitchell, two boys from the basketball team that had been throwing spitballs and harassing Eddie, who merely smirked at them in response, effectively egging them on.

You glanced at the clock, tapping your foot subconsciously on the off-white tile below your feet.

5 minutes left, you reminded yourself, watching the clock tick down. Your hands started to clam up. Perfect.

You let out a shaky breath. A few rows in front of you, Pam Simpson and Diana Fiorelli glanced back, eyes zeroing in on you, before Pam snickered and leaned over to whisper into Diana’s ear.

This wasn’t new; they always had some off-color remark or an unnecessary eye-roll to throw at you ever since they found out about your close friendship with Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.

How two nerds like yourself and Robin Buckley had managed to bag someone as popular as Steve the hair Harrington as a best friend seemed to be beyond them, and they sought everyday to punish you for it.

The truth was: Steve had left all of that behind. From the wake-up call that was his break-up with Nancy, to the whole fighting-monsters-from-another-dimension thing, he didn’t really care about it anymore. He’d found better friends in you guys. The whole Russians-in-Hawkins, and Starcourt “fire” helped too.

It was true what they said about trauma: it brought people together.

You tried to ignore their whispering, like Robin had encouraged you.

She was absolutely livid when she’d found out that Diana had “accidentally,” spilled her yogurt parfait over your new blouse last week. It had taken a whole five minutes of both you and Steve talking her down from her stupor to stop her from marching straight to the gymnasium, interrupting cheer practice, and giving Diana a black eye. After though, when you’d managed to calm your best friend down, she’d gone off—trying to convince you to stick up for yourself, to say something. If not to the mean girls themselves, then to Ms Taylor at the very least.

But that was the difference between you and Robin; where she would act, you would listen. Remain passive. It was a trait that served you well when it came to retaining information or solving upside-down-related issues, in situations like these, it kind of screwed you over.

You turned your head from the front of the classroom, blocking out Ms Taylor’s lecture on T. S. Elliot and instead turning your head to the desk beside yours. Eddie’s desk.

He was hunched over, head on his hands, which were crossed and folded on top of the desk in front of him. His chin rested there, and his dark eyes were focused on the board, squinting, as if trying to make out what it said.

He seemed to be trying to pay attention, a stark contrast to how you usually saw him hunched over around his worm notebook, scribbling or drawing.

He wore dark blue jeans today, instead of his usual black ones, and a Quiet Riot band T-shirt . His leather jacket was draped over the chair behind him, as Ms Taylor’s room was hot today. His hair fell messily over his back and in front of his face. His ringed fingers tapped on the desk—he was evidently as anxious for the class to end as you were.

You knew he had trouble focusing. You’d picked up on as much throughout the school year, watching him try and try and try to stay locked in to whatever Ms Taylor was teaching.

So many of your classmates had written him off: cult leader, satanist, idiot, freak, but you saw something different. The Eddie you knew (well, not really knew, more like observed) was none of those things. He was different, yes. Flamboyant, sure. But he was not an idiot. Nor was he evil or freakish or anything of the sort.

The ringing of the bell snapped you from your thoughts. You jerked your head back to your desk as your classmates began to pack up and bustle out to their next classes, the sound of backpacks zipping and chatter filling the classroom.

Per usual, Eddie was the first out of his seat, already packed and ready, before leaving the classroom with long strides, eyes trained on the floor, narrowly avoiding your gaze.

You shoved your notebook into your bag, bending over to zip it up and run like hell out of the classroom. You hoped to avoid any unnecessary contact with Pam and Diane. Ms Taylor cleared her throat, before saying your name.

“I’d like to see you for a moment, please,” she said monotonously, eyes focused on the grade book in front of her. A shot of anxiety spread through your stomach.

“Yes, Ms Taylor?” You asked quietly, noting that you were the only two people left in the classroom.

“You have one of the top grades in the class, second only to Mr. Levy, did you know that?” She asked, still not looking up. You puzzled. So you weren’t in trouble?

“Uh-I-no, I didn’t, actually.” You mumbled, brows furrowed.

“Indeed,” she hummed. “I also have been made aware that you are lacking an extracurricular for graduation, is that correct?”

Shit, you thought. She was right.

Last summer, you’d been set to take a summer gym elective; the ones that the school offered during the school year were too crowded and made your anxiety act up, so you and Robin had both signed up to take summer gym. However, the upside-down and the Russians’ presence in Hawkins at Starcourt had had other plans, so both you and her had failed the class, due to bad attendance. And while Robin had made sure to complete her gym credit last semester, you’d completely forgotten about the whole debacle until now.

“Yeah,” you breathed, in shock that you’d managed to forget about something so important when graduation was only months away. “I-I forgot—“

“I figured as much,” Ms Taylor cut you off, finally looking up at you. “Well, seeing as it’s too late in the semester to sign you up for any electives, it would seem that you’ll be having to repeat your senior year.”

Your breath left your lungs.

No, you thought, no, no, no. The last thing you could handle was another year stuck here. In this high school, in this city. You felt your breathing stutter at the thought.

“Luckily for you,” Ms Taylor continued, refocusing you on the moment. “I have a solution that may just save you from that.”

You blew out a breath between your lips, looking at her anxiously.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Anything— I completely forgot about—“

“I trust you’re familiar with Mr. Munson?” She interrupted you. Your brows furrowed. What did Eddie have to do with this?

“Yes.”

“Well, then I’m sure you’re aware that this will be his second time repeating his senior year.” Ms Taylor looked up at you now, her beady eyes laser-focused. “If he fails again, the school won’t be giving him another chance. It would seem that this class is one of the only things standing between him and a one-way ticket out of this school.”

“I dont think I follow—“ you began.

“You will tutor Mr Munson.” She clarified, face stoic as ever. “From now until the end of the spring semester. If you do this, and if I see improvement, I will make it count as your extracurricular. You’ll be able to graduate on time, and he will get the hell out of my classroom for good.”

You were stunned—not only by the fact that you’d be forced into proximity Eddie Munson for the rest of the year, but the fact that Ms Taylor would speak so candidly about a student.

“I—I-“ you tried to articulate what to say next, but found you were unable to gather your thoughts.

“I can’t,” you finally managed, dumbly. Ms Taylor raised a thin eyebrow at you.

“Well,” she said. “It seems that unless you want to repeat your senior year, you don’t have much of a choice.”

“But, Ms Taylor, I—“

“Look,” she sighed your name. “You’re a smart girl. Mr Munson may be… a handful, but I promise he’s harmless. You will be fine. You can even meet on the school premises, if you’d feel better about that.”

Dear Lord, you didn’t know how to tell her that the reason why you couldn’t tutor him was not because of his reputation, or that you were scared of him, it was because you could barely form a coherent thought in his presence.

“Are we clear?” She asked, arms crossed. You tried to speak, but your mouth was dry. You just gulped and nodded.

“Good,” she smiled tightly. You sighed, turning to leave, already knowing you’d be late to your next class. She called your name as you began to exit, your hand on the door handle.

“Just know, I will be checking weekly with Mr Munson to see how tutoring is going. So don’t think that if you fail to show up I won’t know.”

You nodded, shutting the door behind you as you left.

Great. No escaping it. What if you embarrassed yourself? What if he really did hate you? What if—

“Hey.”

You jumped, too caught up in your thoughts to even notice the tall, lanky figure leaning up against the lockers next to Ms Taylor’s classroom.

“Jesus, sorry.” Eddie looked at you with wide eyes, an arm coming to steady you on your shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

When you just stared at him, he cleared his throat, removing his hand from your shoulder. A part of you mourned the loss.

“So, uh,” he began, looking down at his feet as he walked alongside you. You tried not to notice the faint scent of his cologne that sent a thrill through your gut. “So I guess she told you? About the tutoring?”

When his curly head snapped up to meet your eyes, you quickly faced forward, realizing that you’d been ogling his side profile while he was stumbling over his words. You nodded in confirmation.

“Ok,” he said, rubbing his hands on his legs. “Ok,” he repeated, stopping and turning to face you. “I’m just gonna cut the bullshit: I really, really need the help in this class.” His eyes were a bit wild, panicked. Like he thought you were going to run away from him the moment you got a chance. “Like, ‘really,’ as in, if I don’t pass, I don’t graduate. And I know you really don’t wanna do this, and she’s forcing you, and that you hate me, and you’re scared of me, and all that, but if you could please—please— just help me get through this class, I will make it as painless as possible spending all the time with me.”

By the end of his little speech, he looked frantic, like he was pleading—and you suppose he was. And before you could stop yourself, you just nodded, looking at him dumbly, before remembering to speak.

“I’ll help you pass.” Was all you could manage.

He sighed a breath of relief, running a hand down his face.

“Thank you,” he said, and you could’ve sworn it was the most sincere you’d ever heard him. “Thursday after school in the library sound good?”

- - - -

You arrived early, because, of course you did.

To say you were nervous would be an understatement; you were terrified. Mostly of making an even bigger fool of yourself than you had earlier in the week.

You’d spent the better part of the last three days poring over your last interaction with Eddie in the hallway, when he’d begged you to tutor him, and you’d gotten about five words in edgewise.

He’d practically accused you of hating him, and instead of correcting him—like you’d been dying to do for the whole semester—you stood there like an idiot.

You wished you’d told him then and there in that hallway that he was wrong; that you weren’t scared of him, and that you didn’t hate him. That you were just shy and awkward and he unnerved you. So, you decided to do just that.

Last night, while finally talking through the whole situation with Robin, you’d decided that the first words you’d say to him would be: “I’m not scared of you and I don’t hate you.”

It was a bit abrasive and to-the-point, you knew that. But, you also knew that if you let him get a word in before that, you’d lose your nerve. At least this way, you got your point across.

Your eyes ran over the page of your book for what felt like the fiftieth time. You sighed, throwing the worn novel down on the table.

There was no way you’d be able to get any reading done, not with your nerves eating you alive.

The book wasn’t that good anyway. You had no clue what Robin meant when she said Hemingway was ‘profound.’

You sighed again, eyes finding the clock in the library.

He was five minutes late.

You felt something deflate inside you. Maybe he’d been bluffing about the whole thing, or maybe he’d changed his mind and wouldn’t show. Your mind ran with the possibilities.

The library was sparse at this time.

It was just past three, and most students had already rushed out of the building. It was Thursday, which meant that the town was just waking up for the weekend. It wasn’t uncommon for friend groups to have small get-togethers, or even for one of the bigger cliques to throw a party.

In fact, Steve had managed to convince Robin and yourself to attend one later that night. Which was a feat, because you didn’t make a habit of going out.

It was at Darren’s house: one of the few friends from high school that Steve actually kept up with after, y’know, everything.

Robin was hoping Vicky would be there. You were just hoping to let loose a little.

With all this business with Eddie and your impending (maybe) graduation, your nerves had been through the roof. A party was just what you needed to calm down.

“Sorry,” he appeared out of nowhere, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped.

“Sorry!” Eddie rushed out, slumping down in the chair across from you. “Really, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you all the time. Sorry I’m late.”

You stared at him.

God, he was pretty.

His hair was big and frizzy, per usual, and fell around his face as a halo. His brown eyes were wide and almost doe -like, and his cheeks were rosy with exertion.

He must have been running, you thought. But why? He wasn’t that late.

“Were you running?” You blurted before you could think. Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.

“Uhhhh, yeah,” he drawled. “Yeah, I ran into some trouble getting here.”

“What trouble?”

“The usual.” Eddie rubbed his eyes, and for the first time since he’d sat down, you noticed how disheveled he looked.

His white tee shirt was stained on the shoulder with what looked like… fruit?

“Is that… food on your shoulder?”

“Shit,” his gaze snapped to his shoulder. “Yeah, uhm. It’s jello.”

Eddie looked… embarrassed. For the first time in the time you’d known him, he looked sheepish.

“Was it Jason?”

“That obvious?” He laughed mirthlessly. In fact, it was a little menacing.

“He’s a dick.” You said without thinking.

Eddie just nodded, staring down a place on the table.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at you, dark eyes guarded.

He seemed to be sizing you up, eyes following you up and down. But his usual playfulness was gone. Instead, he looked almost… forlorn.

“Uh, yeah.” His lips lifted into a humorless smile. “Just done with this bullshit, I guess.”

“Hmm,” you hummed.

“I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m a freak. I’m tired of not behind able to fucking walk to class in peace, I’m tired of people being fucking,” he slammed his hands on the table in front of you. When you jump, he throws them up. “Scared of me!”

You stay silent for a moment, letting him stew and collect himself. After a few seconds, Eddie sighs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—“

“I’m not scared of you, and I don’t hate you.”

“—mean to—what?”

“I’m not scared of you.” You repeated, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. “And I don’t hate you, like you said on Monday. I’m Im just,” you stopped to take a breath. “It’s just hard for me sometimes. With… new people.”

“You sure? Because you look scared to me.”

“You aren’t helping.”

Eddie shivered, rubbing at the jello-colored stain on his shoulder.

“Do you… want to change?” You asked shakily.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you rushed out, shaking your head. “It’s nothing. You just—looked cold. I have an extra sweatshirt.”

“And you think it would fit me?”

“I like to wear them a few sizes too big.” You added lamely.

Eddie contemplated you for a moment, before sighing.

“What the hell,” he said half to himself. “Why not?”

After he pulled the lilac crew neck over his head, he smiled.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry. Thank you for doing this. I know it can’t be great for your…image.”

You snorted at that.

“Yeah, my image isn’t exactly suffering.”

“Yeah?” He leaned forward, setting his chin on his fists.

God, his forearms. You forced yourself to look away.

“Yeah. Not exactly prom queen here.”

“Eh, prom queen is overrated.”

You laughed, your own crinkling eyes meeting his. You thought you saw his eyes soften as they looked at you. The vision of him there, in front of you, made your stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, turning to your notes in front of you.

“So,” you straightened your notebook. “Ready to talk about T. S. Elliot?”

- - - -

The party was loud. Mötley Crüe boomed through the speakers that Darren’s rich family had in what seemed like every room.

You silently thanked Darren for having good music taste. The party would have been unbearable otherwise.

You sighed as you walked out the back door of the house. The inside had gotten a bit too stuffy for you, and with Robin trailing after Vickie and Steve reconnecting with one of his old flames, you were flying solo for the time being.

You brushed your jeans with your hands before sitting down on the back step, a lukewarm rum and coke in the solo cup in your hand.

You felt yourself deflate.

As a senior in high school, this was the closest you’d come to actually living.

While Robin had had her fair share of secret flings and parties and Steve had lived a wild four years of high school, you were just… there.

At eighteen years old, you felt like you’d missed out. Been robbed. The Upside Down had something to do with that, you supposed. Fighting for your own and the kids’ lives from Russians and other-worldly demon creatures tends to do that. Still, it didn’t stop your friends from living. You felt like you’d let your teen years pass you by, but mostly, you felt pathetic.

Sure, you had the grades, but rather than that? You had nothing to show for your time at Hawkins High.

“Hey tutor,” the smooth drawl came from the side of the house. You’d know it anywhere.

Eddie rounded the corner of the house, approaching where you were sitting on the back step.

He wore the same black jeans he wore earlier today, but his jello-stained shirt and your lilac crew neck were gone, replaced by a t-shirt with what looked like Judas Priest’s logo. His arms were crossed over his chest, covered by the black leather he wore more often than not.

“Hey,” you offered lamely, rubbing your hands together.

“What ya doing out here all alone?” He came to stop in front of you, his chunky combat boots taking up your line of vision.

“Just…taking a breather.” You smiled up at him, tight-lipped.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Scoot over, then. It’s a little too… preppy for me in there.”

You obliged, scooting over a few feet so he could sit next to you. As he dropped down on the concrete step next to you, he was close enough that you caught his scent.

It was deep, some kind of cologne, mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of what you knew was weed.

“So…” Eddie bumped his shoulder into yours. “Thought this wasn’t your crowd?”

“It’s not,” you pressed your hands between your knees. “Robin and Steve dragged me here. I thought it would help me… unwind.”

“Robin… she’s in band right?”

You nodded.

“And Steve… I don’t think I know that one.”

You chuckled.

“You definitely do,” you peeked over at him, eager to see his reaction. “Uh, Steve Harrington?”

Eddie looked at you like you grew a second head.

“The hair?” He asked incredulously.

“The very same,” you nodded.

“God, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m beginning to question the company you keep.”

Your heart leapt at what he called you. Sweetheart.

“I know, I know,” you held out your hands. “He was an asshole. But he’s different now.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He is!” You turned to Eddie defensively. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if he was still the way he used to be. He isn’t like…”

“Jason?” Eddie raised an eyebrow at you. “Like Pam and Diana?”

“Exactly.” You nodded. “He’s still… peppy. He just lost all the bad parts.”

“Hmm,” he crossed his arms. “I’ll take your word for it.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, the only sounds being your breath and the roar of the party inside. Your breaths swirled in the chilly air around you.

“Why are you here?” You spoke finally. “You said this wasn’t your scene.”

“It’s not,” he shrugged, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little baggy filled with green substance. “I’m, uh, supplying the party favors.”

You snorted at that.

“These things good business?”

“You have no idea.” He nodded to the inside of the house. “A lot of these kids’ allowance is more than what my uncle makes in a week.”

You hummed, content to just sit in silence.

Eddie tilted his head at you, leaning his chin on his hands again like he did earlier in the library. He tilted his cheek toward you, an easy smile on his lips.

“So, why are you really out here, tutor-girl?” He looked at you curiously. “You look upset.”

You drew a heavy breath, before sighing.

“It’s dumb.” You picked at your nails.

“Try me.”

“I feel like..” you looked up, before turning to Eddie. “I feel like I’ve missed out. I’m a senior, I’m graduating this year, and I have done nothing.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t move to interrupt you. He only leans further toward you, spurring you to continue. The alcohol gave you the rest of the confidence you lacked.

“All my friends have had their little rebellions. Their flings, all of it. And I have done nothing, except drink shitty booze and nearly lose my mind.”

You blew a deep breath once you’d finished. Somehow, you felt even worse—more pathetic—now that you’d vocalized it.

But Eddie didn’t look at you like you were pathetic. Instead, he looked pensive, hand on his chin as he contemplated. It was your instinct to backtrack.

You moved to stand

“Sorry. That was a lot. Nevermind. Let’s just forget I—“

“No, no, don’t apologize.” He grabbed your arm and gently pulled you back to sit beside him. “Especially after what I dumped on you earlier.”

Your cheeks were red, you could tell. Whether that be because of the combination of the alcohol and the confession, you couldn’t tell.

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, still thinking. You snuck a glance over at him and noticed a wry smile on his face. “Let’s fix it then.”

“What?”

“We have til May, don’t we? That’s eight months. Your senior year isn’t over yet.”

You laughed nervously.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that—“

“You’re not! I’m offering. Consider it payback for all the hours you’ll be tutoring me in Taylor’s class.”

“Okay…”

“Okay.” Eddie smiled. “It’s a deal, then .”

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #hawkins indiana #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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piratefalls · 8 months

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this time i finished a book and wrote some psych au and caught up on a shit ton of fic, and yet i still almost put the wrong banner on here. happy reading!

masterlist.

Set In Platinum by cricketnationrise

“So,” Alex says, plopping down on Henry’s couch. “You said some things on my channel are more achievable with a partner.” Or, The camboy!Alex sequel.

diamonds are forever by rizcriz

Henry shakes his head. “James Bond is fictional.” Alex raises his eyebrows. “But . . . ?” Gaze slipping to the ceiling, Henry nods once. “It is not . . .” He says, making a face as his eyes meet Alex’s again. “Dissimilar to James Bond.” Alex nods. “So . . .” He trails off, the information still processing. It’s a bit like his mind is buffering as he makes sense of it. It’s so little information, yet so much all at once. Like someone’s thrown an encyclopedia at his head and given him a cliff notes explanation expecting him to know it word for word. “That would mean—I’m dating James Bond?” He blinks, sitting up straight. “Oh my god,” he exclaims with sudden realization. “I’m a Bond Girl.”

Happiness I Seek by MayQueen517

A sick day in the Brownstone === “It really must be serious if you’re admitting you’re sick,” Henry says, grinning weakly when Alex groans, shoving at him.

the clementine thing by saintlynomenclature

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company. Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him. - Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor

(Not) A Cinderella Story by LolaLand

Henry is very much a prince. Alex is very much not a princess. OR Prince Henry isn't a fan of royal duties, and Alex isn't a fan of the monarchy (or their non-disclosure agreements).

our world, mine and his alone (the midnight train to go) by firenati0n

The posh accent hit Alex first, and he felt something curl in his gut. One of his amygdala brain worms did a little wiggle. He was unprepared for what was to come. A pair of criminally long legs entered his vision, effectively vaporizing most of the brain worms (that's a first), except for the ones slowly starting to chant shoulders and thighs and hair and legs and thighs and Alex couldn’t do a goddamn thing to stop his increasingly horny train of thought. All trains had left the station. Or, Alex asks a stranger to crack his back like a glow stick. Or, an overnight train meet-cute.

A Little Space to Think by allmylovesatonce

A surprise visitor sends Alex into a spiral about his future, specifically, his future with Henry.

I kiss the photo every night so you are in bed with me after all by imaginentertain

Following the election, the boys are back on their relative continents and back to their lives. And it sucks. It may only be a month until New Year's but things are different now: they're out to the world, Alex is the official suitor of the Prince, and they're talking about New York and the Brownstone and Law School. Alex misses Henry. Out loud. He's allowed. "Sure you'll find something to keep you busy." Henry will regret saying that. Probably.

of hubris and fowl by maxbegone

"The bird fucking bit me," Alex tells her before she can get a word out. June blinks. "What?" "And I'm bleeding." "What?" She repeats. Alex just holds up his hand, the bundle of tissues now somewhat sticking to his wound. "Alex," she starts, exasperated, "what the actual fuck?" On the evening of Wednesday, November 27th, 2019, the First Son of the United States, Alexander Claremont-Diaz, sustained minor injuries after contact with a wild turkey. Out of abundance of caution, Mr. Claremont-Diaz was transported to Walter Reed Medical Center for evaluation and treatment, as is protocol after contact with a wild animal. Or, Alex is dramatic, (definitely) antagonizes a turkey, and everyone thinks he's overreacting.

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) by chamel

Unfortunately for him, the only things more beautiful than Alex himself are Alex’s cakes. He’s the most in-demand cake artist in the city, and as such he books a lot of weddings. Many of the very same weddings that simply must also have Fox Florals arrangements for their centrepieces. Weddings like, apparently, this one. (Or, Henry the florist and Alex the cake artist are forced to collaborate last minute at a wedding job, make a mess, and learn some things about each other in the process.)

Balls to the Wall by inexplicablymine

“He looks kind of like a cross between a sickly Victorian orphan and the personification of the bubonic plague. I feel like I should be walking in with a Medico Della Peste plague mask and a stick,” Alex says into the phone while wearing his version of a hazmat suit (last week's sweats that need to be laundered expeditiously). He looks out into the carnage of his sleeping bedridden roommate in dismay. So maybe he doesn't need to rob a bank, but robbing a Starbucks for Henry’s happiness might be in order. He rips off the rubber gloves and grabs his shoes. “Fuck it, we ball.” Or Alex is willing to go to great lengths in order to make Henry happy, great lengths indeed.

We'll Get Together Then by absoluteaudacity

5+1 times Oscar was a good dad to Henry (ft. Abuelo Oscar)

cherry shampoo and a kiss or two by viciouslyqueer

“You underestimate my stubbornness,” Alex says defiantly with a small smile. “Plus, I really need to wash my hair because it’s downright filthy, I just... can’t bring myself to actually leave the bed and do it.” Henry hums thoughtfully, a plan forming in his head; he can do something about this. He leans down to press a kiss on Alex’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.” — Alex is on his period. Henry takes care of him.

i'm in the back seat (of my body) by stevefuckingharrington

He pulls out his phone for a moment. Google’s “voice fine but can’t make myself talk” and then adds ‘ADHD’ on the end for good measure. He scrolls and few moments later he finds it. Going nonverbal is like walking barefoot on pins and needles when everyone else but me came prepared with steel-toed boots. Alex clicks off his phone and tosses it on the bedside table. Maybe, he thinks, he should’ve got that autism assessment. (or, sometime between christmas and new year, alex goes nonverbal during a party.)

Room For Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) by everwitch

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

love's a game (wanna play?) by theprinceandagcd

“Fuck, marry, kill?” Alex suggests, mostly joking. Nora kicks gently at his thigh. “That could be fun.” “Wait, I was ki-” “Celebrities only or are we allowing real people?” Probably-Samantha poses. “Celebrities are real people, Samantha,” Pez says. Alex pushes down the rush of satisfaction that he had remembered her name correctly. “Non-celebrities should be fair game,” Alex insists, and Henry’s gaze meets his before quickly darting away. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, like maybe the drink in his hand isn’t his first. Or second, even. Jesus, his face is pink. --- aka, FMK as a plot device

Palatial by floatingaway4

With a smirk, Alex holds out his other hand, palm up. “I’m not giving you twenty dollars,” Henry says with a laugh. “We had a bet, sweetheart.” Henry grabs Alex’s outstretched hand and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “You had a bet. I ignored you.” “I really thought we were gonna get all the way through this one without her saying ‘palatial’ but she pulled it out right at the last minute.” He slides a finger into the belt loop of Henry’s jeans and yanks him close. “You know, I really do forget, every once in a while, that you’re a prince. Good thing I have the New York real estate market to remind me.”

Seven Minutes in Heaven (Reversed) by TheAmberFox

'Tell him, you idiot,' Nora mouths at him, and Alex grimaces. He’s been over it with Nora so often and somehow, she is convinced that there’s a 99% chance that Henry would react positively. Alex can’t see it. He can’t even see 1%. Ever since they’ve started college together, Henry’s not dated at all. He has talked about the women his family has tried to push on him as “reasonable matches” though. Alex, on the other hand, has tried distributing his attention equally throughout the dating pool and failed miserably. How can he focus on anyone else when Henry – the sole object of his heart’s desire – is right there? If Liam could see him now, he’d probably laugh his head off.

Once I get a taste by clottedcreamfudge

“Please,” Alex begs, on fire with a clawing desperate need. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything. Henry.” Henry, entire body rigid with tension, slowly shakes his head. Alex sees his mouth – red from where Alex has been kissing him, biting him, well on his way to eating Henry alive – form the word no, even though he can’t hear it past the blood rushing in his ears. Then Henry turns and leaves, and Alex digs his fingers into the cheap plywood of his own desk as he tries desperately not to fall to the floor. Which is not, as it turns out, where this story starts.

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon by villageidiot

He falls asleep on the loveseat, Nora and June curled up on the couch across from him, as a terrible Hallmark Christmas film plays in the background. It’s the fourth night of sleeping alone—Henry taking care of some business back in the palace—and he’d rather wake up cold and cramped across from the two of them than alone in his own bed. That’s how Alex falls asleep. That is not how he wakes up.

maybe take me into your room by smc_27

“This is kinda boring, ma.” She pats him on the cheek, leans in a little closer, and says, “Find something to do, darlin’. You live here. You can’t leave.” She’s not exactly right, but he isn’t going to argue. Plus, her main advisor, Zahra, comes over. Alex is already a little afraid of her, so he doesn’t feel the need to draw attention to himself by smarting off at the mouth. She’s still talking to him when he spots this really beautiful guy about his age, and fuck, wow. Okay. “Not him,” his mom says into his ear, and he doesn’t even… Look, if she knows about the few guys he made out with at parties in Madrid last year when the opportunity arose, this is the first he’s hearing of it. “His dad is the British ambassador. I can’t have you breaking hearts and causing an international incident.” OR: Ellen Claremont is the US ambassador to Canada. Arthur Fox is the British Ambassador to Canada.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers by @kiwiana-writes

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.

treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet by anincompletelist

Alex can’t remember his first words. He can’t recall the melody to the lullaby his parents often sang at his bedside to get him to sleep, nor the name of his sister’s imaginary friend that they had tea parties with on the floor of her bedroom. But he knows they existed. That it all happened and that each of those little, seemingly insignificant moments had built him up and formed him into the person he is today, even if he can’t recall every one of them perfectly. But he can remember, as clear as if it’d been only moments ago, the day that he found out what the red band around his wrist meant, imprinted underneath his skin with a small gap right over his pulsepoint, waiting for the day the ends would meet.

Dream a Little Dream Of Me by affectionatelyrs

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” - Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)

love left a permanent mark by HypnosTheory

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” -- Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare. (Finale to the only thing on my mind series)

say you'll see me again (even if it's just in your wildest dreams) by coffeecatsme

“You should ask her to dance.” She nudges Alex, and Alex pretends there isn’t a flush rushing up to his face. He opens his mouth to mention every single fucking reason dancing with the blonde is a bad idea—she looks about a foot taller than Alex, objectively uncomfortable for some fucking reason, and Alex is against royalty on, like, principle—but then June nudges him again with widened eyes. “Come on. You know you want to, and I’m sure she’d appreciate it. None of the other fuckers are asking her because of how tall she is.” For a moment, Alex glares at her. Then, he downs his champagne, shoves it in June’s face and tries to smooth his jacket. “You fucking owe me, June,” he says and ignores the brilliant smile that appears on her face. “Don’t act so fucking upset about it.” Or, 5 times Henry is too scared to come out to Alex and 1 time Alex gives him the courage. Or, 6 times Alex slowly falls in love with Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, for exactly who he is.

as always, let me know if you want me to tag you, and see you next week!

tags: @starkfridays, @stilesgivesmefeels

#rwrb #rwrb fic #rwrb fic rec #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince #firstprince fic #red white and royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz

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warningsine · 18 days

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Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro has announced plans to move Christmas to October.

In his weekly television show on Monday, Maduro said "It's September, and it already smells like Christmas."

"That's why this year, as a way of paying tribute to you all, and in gratitude to you all, I'm going to decree an early Christmas for October 1."

The decision by the 61-year-old president is seen as a move to distract people from the turmoil that has engulfed the country following July's contested presidential election.

People are angry over moving up a joyous season

Christmas is big in Catholic-majority Venezuela, and some people weren't happy about the idea of celebrating the holiday season amid turmoil in the country.

Jose Ernesto Ruiz, an office worker in the capital, Caracas, told the Associated Press news agency that: "Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy, family reunions, parties, presents… (but) without money and with this political crisis, who can believe that there will be an early Christmas?"

This is not the first time Maduro has moved up Christmas to an earlier date. He also did so during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Mass protests continue in Venezuela

Opposition parties continue to protest the outcome of July's election, saying that Maduro is illegally clinging on to power.

They accuse Maduro of widespread cronyism and corruption which has brought the country's economy to its knees.

A widespread crackdown on opposition has fueled more concerns about the state of the country.

More than 2,400 people have been imprisoned so far, according to news agency AFP, with journalists, politicians and aid workers among those jailed.

The US, EU and several Latin American countries say the election results are fraudulent and have backed the opposition's claim that their candidate, Edmundo Gonzalez Urrutia, is the real winner.

ss/rm (AP, AFP, dpa)

#venezuela #politics #news tag

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months

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AP, via NBC News:

TEL AVIV, Israel — Israel’s prime minister on Saturday called a permanent cease-fire in Gaza a “nonstarter” until long-standing conditions for ending the war are met, appearing to undermine a proposal that U.S. President Joe Biden had announced as an Israeli one.

The statement from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s office came a day after Biden outlined the plan, and as families of Israeli hostages held by Hamas called for all parties to immediately accept the proposal. A major demonstration in Israel on Saturday night urged the government to act now. And a joint statement by mediators the U.S., Egypt and Qatar pressed Israel and Hamas, saying the proposed deal “offers a road map for a permanent cease-fire and ending the crisis” and gives immediate relief to both the hostages and Gaza residents. But Netanyahu’s statement said that “Israel’s conditions for ending the war have not changed: the destruction of Hamas’ military and governing capabilities, the freeing of all hostages and ensuring that Gaza no longer poses a threat to Israel. Under the proposal, Israel will continue to insist these conditions are met before a permanent cease-fire is put in place.” In a separate statement, Netanyahu accepted an invitation from U.S. congressional leaders to deliver an address at the Capitol, a show of wartime support for Israel. No date has been set.

Biden on Friday asserted that Hamas is “no longer capable” of carrying out a large-scale attack on Israel like the one by the militant group in October that started the war. He urged Israel and Hamas to reach an agreement to release about 100 remaining hostages, along with the bodies of around 30 more, for an extended cease-fire. Cease-fire talks halted last month after a push by the U.S. and other mediators to secure a deal in hopes of averting a full-scale Israeli invasion of Gaza’s southern city of Rafah. Israel says the Rafah operation is key to uprooting Hamas fighters responsible for the Oct. 7 attack. Israel on Friday confirmed its troops were operating in central parts of the city. The ground assault has led around 1 million Palestinians to leave Rafah and thrown humanitarian operations into turmoil. The World Food Program has called living conditions “horrific and apocalyptic” as hunger grows. Families of hostages said that time was running out.

[...] Many hostages’ families accuse the government of a lack of will. “We know that the government of Israel has done an awful lot to delay reaching a deal, and that has cost the lives of many people who survived in captivity for weeks and weeks and months and months,” Sharone Lifschitz said. Her mother, Yocheved, was freed in November but her father, Oded, is still held.

Bibi is a genocidal bastard who will do anything to get Donald Trump elected.

#Benjamin Netanyahu #Joe Biden #Ceasefire #Israel/Hamas War #Israel

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beardedmrbean · 9 months

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CONCORD, N.H. (AP) — New Hampshire’s attorney general on Monday ordered national Democratic party leaders to stop calling the state’s unsanctioned presidential primary “meaningless,” saying doing so violates state law.

The cease-and-desist notice came three days after the co-chairs of the Democratic National Committee’s rules committee told New Hampshire party leaders to “educate the public that January 23rd is a non-binding presidential preference event and is meaningless.” In a letter to Chairman Ray Buckley, they also called the primary “detrimental” and said “non-compliant processes can disenfranchise and confuse voters.”

But Attorney General John Formella said it’s the DNC that is in danger of harming voters. Formella, appointed by Republican Gov. Chris Sununu, did not say whether he is considering criminal charges, but his office later said he hasn't ruled it out. He released a statement saying the comments amount to an illegal attempt to deter voters from participating in the primary and cited state laws against criminal solicitation and voter suppression. The latter, a felony, makes it illegal to attempt to deter someone from voting based on fraudulent, deceptive or misleading information.

“Regardless of whether the DNC refuses to award delegates to the party’s national convention based on the results of the January 23, 2024, New Hampshire democratic Presidential Primary Election, this New Hampshire election is not “meaningless,’” Formella said. Statements to the contrary are false, deceptive and misleading.”

New Hampshire’s secretary of state scheduled the primary in accordance with a state law that requires both the Republican and Democratic primaries to be held at least seven days before any similar contest. But that put the state at odds with the DNC’s calendar, which starts with a primary in South Carolina on Feb. 3 followed by Nevada. Aimed at giving Black and other minority voters a larger, earlier role, the schedule also moves Michigan into the group of early states voting before Super Tuesday on March 5, when most of the rest of the country holds primaries.

President Joe Biden, who sought the changes, kept his name off the ballot in New Hampshire, though Democrats have organized a write-in campaign on his behalf.

Republicans will kick off the nominating process with the Iowa caucus on Monday. New Hampshire’s primary eight days later will be a crucial opportunity for GOP candidates to show they can remain competitive against former President Donald Trump, the early front-runner for their party’s presidential nomination.

A spokesperson for the DNC declined to comment Monday. Buckley, the New Hampshire chairman, released a statement reiterating that the secretary of state followed the law in picking the date.

“Well, it's safe to say in New Hampshire, the DNC is less popular than the NY Yankees,” he said. “Nothing has changed, and we look forward to seeing a great Democratic voter turnout on January 23rd.”

#nunyas news

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catboybiologist · 8 months

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Holy fuck this got long.

@glorhatransgal asked about my "queer timeline", and I'm making a separate post for reblog control. Feel free to engage in the replies or my DMs, though! I'm a pretty open book, except some stuff I would rather leave to DMs.

The tl;Dr is that I think I knew from the time I started puberty, but I had a weird commitment to suppression and misery. I've only managed to tackle that feeling in the past year or so, and I still need to socially transition.

Long long thing under the cut with mental health CWs!!!!!

I'm pretty sure the first awareness I had of queerness was when California proposition 8 was a thing, in the 2008 election. I was ~10 or 11 at the time, and asked my mom what the big deal with letting two men marry was. She explained a bit, explained that "you'll like girls when you get older but you shouldn't judge what other people do" and then emphasized that I shouldn't really ever worry about dating or relationships ever because I should focus on school.

That was a HUGE underlying theme, not just from my parents, but from the area I grew up in overall. Very high academic pressure just kinda.... Oozed out of everywhere, without any one specific parent or teacher particularly overemphasizing it (with notable exceptions). This came up a lot, and made me feel stupid or vain for engaging in any other aspects of my personality, including queerness.

I remember having some semblance of trans thoughts back in Middle School, without ever learning what trans people are explicitly. None of the adults in my life wanted to discuss the subject, mostly brushing it off as "it's something other people do and you shouldn't judge them". Very little explicit hate, to be fair, which is good. But a lot of changing the subject. So to me, it felt like basic vanity- eg, a shallow desire to be "pretty" that everyone had, of course, that I just needed to get rid of to focus on academics.

And of course, on top of that, I was more tech literate than the average kid. So my head was stuffed with the.... Unique.... Perspective on queerness, particularly trans people, provided by the unrestricted wilderness of the 2009-2016 internet. Since no adult in my life would really address it, it gave me a lot of really bad perspectives on the whole thing.

I'm not quite sure when bisexuality entered the picture, but I called myself "straight with exceptions" from the ages of 14 to 21 at least. My earliest clear memory of being attracted to a man was when I saw Aragorn in LotR for the first time (can you blame me?). If you want to make fun of my little nerd ass more, my first distinct attraction to a woman was probably Padme's midriff outfit in Attack of the Clones. Again, since my head was stuffed with weird ideas of queerness, gayness was often portrayed as a disgust or lack of attraction to women. I didn't have that, so I couldn't be queer, right? "Straight with an asterisk" it was.

Dysphoria kinda crackled in the background and grew as I went through puberty. The way I've described it is that my "resting state" was never happy pre-HRT. I could easily make myself happy and distract from it, but I didn't "come home" to a good feeling. Not an overwhelming feeling, not a suicidal one, but just being miserable in the background if there wasn't something to make me happy.

So when I hit a wall with my mental health in high school, it ended very poorly. I was in mostly advanced programs until then, but couldn't keep up due to things I *now* realize were ADHD symptoms. I had ongoing physical health problems that meant orthopedic surgeries, multiple extended times on crutches, limping around a lot, and ongoing pain and lack of physical ability that most people couldn't see, making me feel hopeless about my body and future. Add in a nice little dysphoria bundle in the background of all of that…and yeah. That's the self harm and suicidal period of my life. I was very weird in high school, oscillating between AP classes and almost failing out. I was also really just... Nasty to a lot of people around me, as a shield for how miserable I was. So uh, if you knew me in high school and stumble across this somehow... I am truly sorry. But I made it through, mostly through the patience and good graces of friends and teachers.

Anyways. I'm on a tangent.

Undergrad wasn't that memorable for my queerness- I lived at home while attending a local state college, and dated one cis girl for about a year there. Years later she told me that she realized she's bi, so that was kinda validating. I dove a lot into a academics, research, and volunteering to distract myself, and was academically successful.

I was asked out by a gay guy at one point in undergrad. He was someone who I had talked about my uncertain sexuality with and helped me work towards calling myself bi. When he asked me out, I got a bad vibe, and told him I actually thought I was straight. He was later arrested for rape. So uh... Bullet dodged? After his arrest, I started openly calling myself bisexual, but didn't really do anything with it- no dating and no community. It was a long time coming by that point, and the experience made me realize that I didn't have to be attracted to *all* men to say I'm attracted to men. After all, I wasn't attracted to all women either.

I graduated from undergrad in 2020 and stayed at the same uni for my MS. And this is where we enter "how much do I say" territory. My MS was instrumental in figuring out my transness, but was also a fucked up ongoing situation that involves several other people's dirty laundry that I don't necessarily want to air. I can talk a bit more about this in DMs if I know you and trust you, I guess. Sorry OP. So uuuhhh... Let's just say that I was extremely miserable and living mostly alone, so in the Fall of 2020, I ordered my first skirt to try and alleviate that background misery. I called myself a femboy as a last ditch effort to “just be a feminine man”. It was a key part of figuring myself out, though, and I loved the online community I made that way. About a year afterwards, I was having a shit time, and started the CatboyBiologist account on reddit to distract myself from it. I worked more and more from home, and would dress up as a "femboy" as I did.

I graduated from my MS in 2022 in a miserable state, probably worse than I was even as a teen. But it made me realize three things: one, some kind of mental illness made it really easy for my life to derail, two, my dysphoria made it such that *when* my life derailed, I had nothing to be happy about, and three, my weird standards growing up gave me the subconscious sense that I HAVE to be miserable, otherwise I'm not "accomplished" or whatever.

That's kind of the theme of my queer experience. I always knew it was there, but I excused it as "stupid" or just ignored it because I thought everyone was supposed to be miserable by default.

When I entered my PhD, I made a promise to myself to get rid of my weird connection to misery, and actually work on the first two. I joined a grad student queer group and started therapy almost immediately. At first the focus of therapy was essentially immediate trauma support. Slowly, however, I was able to tackle the underlying issues in therapy. I also brought my "femboy" fits to events organized by that queer org, and social events with the friends I made there. I fully engaged in my bisexuality and had a hot girl summer last year, dating men, women, and enbies for the first time since my undergrad GF.

Oh, and btw. Being a feminine man gets you laid. I'm sorry, it's just how it is. Take notes, alpha males, and put on the fucking dress.

With that support, I finally started HRT in August of last year, at the age of 25. I'm still a mix of boymode and girlmode- I girlmode around queer friends, and boymode most of the time otherwise. I've also told several people that I'm transitioning, but just to treat me as a man for now and wait for me to come out more publicly. My plan is to take a hiatus from my PhD this summer, and use that to travel and socially transition. So that's my upcoming landmark experience.

Up until this past month or so, I was the happiest I've ever been. Some out of the blue bad things happened this January. But I realized something- for the first time ever, bad shit happened in my life, and I didn't derail. I was sad. I cried. I was frustrated. I yelled. I had dynamic emotions and handled it. That's never happened before.

Obviously it's always an ongoing process, and it's linked to so many details of my life that it's really hard to say things about “just my queer experience” but uh yeah. Idk if anyone read all that and I'm taking multiple passes to trim out details that got too personal, but fuckit I'm already extremely doxxable at this point.

#cw self harm #cw suicide #trans #transgender #bisexuality #bisexual

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davidaugust · 2 months

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Tremendous healing powers, that ear is pristine.

Election 2024 Trump

Jul 27, 2024 6:47 PMID: 24209856561244

Republican presidential candidate former President Donald Trump arrives at St. Cloud Regional Airport, Saturday, July 27, 2024, in St. Cloud, Minn. (AP Photo/Alex Brandon)

ID: 24209856561244

Submission Date: Jul 27, 2024 6:47 PM

Creation Date: Jul 27, 2024 6:37 PM

Source: AP

https://newsroom.ap.org/editorial-photos-videos/detail?itemid=48714d566ef94ed8827e8ccfce40508c&mediatype=photo

#photo #assassination attempt #trump #election #elections #election 2024 #politics #political #us politics #USpol #ear #donald trump

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thienvaldram · 9 months

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(Doctor Who) UK Prime Ministers and US Presidents

Full (Incomplete) UK PM List in the DWU from 1950 – 20XX (Some years are guessed)

Will be updated whenever I can be bothered we get new information. Just random speculation jamming together a list that was never meant to be jammed together.

Historical Before This Point

Winston Churchill (1951-1955)

Anthony Eden (1955-1957)

Harold Macmillan (1957-1963)

Sir Alec Douglas-Home (1963-1964)

Harold Wilson (1964-1970)

Edward Heath (1970-1972)

Jeremy Thorpe (1972-1974)

Harold Wilson (1974-1975)

Brenda Jones (1975) (According to a Jonathan Morris Tweet)

Shirley Williams (1975-1976)

James Callaghan (1976-1979)

Margaret Thatcher (1979-1990)

Margery Phipps (1990-1992)

John Major (1992-1997) (Assassinated)

Lord Greyhaven (1997) (De Facto PM for several weeks)

Tony Blair (1997-1999)

Terry Brooks (1999-2000)

Phillip Cotton (2000) (Deputy PM until election was called)

Kenneth Clarke (2000-2001)

Tony Blair (2001-2002) (Second term)

Unnamed Male Pro-Europe PM (Possibly Hugh Grant) (2002-2005)

Tony Blair (2005-2006) (Third term)

Joseph Green/Jocrassa Fel-Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen (2006) (Only served as acting PM for a day)

Harriet Jones (2006-2008)

Harold Saxon (2008)

Aubrey Fairchild (2008-2009)

Brian Green (2009-2010)

Denise Reilly (2010-2013)

Kenneth LeBlanc (2013)

Denise Reilly (2013-2014) (Resumed for a second term after Kenneth Le Blanc died)

David Cameron (2014-2015)

Daniel Claremont (2015)

Theresa May (2015-2018)

Felicity (2018-2019)

Fiona (2019-2020)

Boris Johnson (2020-2021) (Revealed to be an Auton)

Jo Patterson (2021)

Edward Lawn Bridges (2021-2023)

Unnamed Woman (2023-2025)

S J Wordley (2025-2026)

Glenda Jackson (2026-2028)

The Director (2028-2046)

Roger ap Gwilliam (2046)

Dai (2047-2049)

Lomax (2049 - 2050)

Mariah Learman (2050-2055)

Unnamed (?-2065-?)

Corollaries (PM List)

Jeremy Thorpe and Shirley Williams are said to be Prime Minister contemporaneously with the UNIT stories (Which are assumed here to take place on their airdates as per Mawdryn Undead and most Modern Who references)

In a tweet Jonathan Morris claimed the Prime Minister in Terror of the Zygons or Mawdryn Undead was Brenda Jones, Harriet Jones' auntie. I put this in 1975 (for less than a year) because why not. Ignore this if you think it's bad.

The Torchwood Encyclopaedia claims that Denise Reilly succeeds Brian Green, since the next PM chronologically is ‘Unnamed Female PM from BF Silence Audios’ these have been welded together.

Actual dates of Kenneth Le Blanc and Unnamed Female PM are unknown, but are set in the UNIT audios between Power of Three (2012-2013) and DotD (2013).

Felicity and Fiona are given as PMs in Aliens Among Us and God Among Us (Torchwood S5 and S6) released and presumably set in 2018 and 2019 respectively.

Eight gives the PM list as Heath -> Thorpe -> Williams -> Thatcher -> Major -> Blair -> Clarke in Interference, this is not supported as a direct list by other sources, though I tried to fit it as best I could, resulting in Blair having two non-adjacent terms.

2010s are a mess due to BF, Titan Comics and the Lucy Wilson novels all giving conflicting accounts of who is PM only a couple years apart, apparently there were a lot of elections/resignations in that decade

Harriet Jones initially served Three terms prior to the Doctor altering history and deposing her, given UK Term Length is unclear, it's unknown how long this would have been, I would guess around 15 years, which would've put Harriet Jones at (2006-2021) where she'd be succeeded by Jo Patterson.

The UK becomes a military Dictatorship from 2028 until 2046 headed by ‘The Director’.

Dai is described as the 'first Prime Minister to serve after the Director is overthrown' this seems to contradict 73 Yards depicting Roger ap Gwilliam's election, but if Roger ap Gwilliam was overthrown as well he can't be said to have 'served', his deputy PM, Iris Cabriola technically succeeds him, but is never the official PM and presumably Dai is then elected the following year.

Then in 2050 Lomax is the dictator of the UK. In the 'mid 21st Century', Mariah Learman is a ‘benevolent dictator’ of the UK.

An unknown Prime Minster led the UK during the weather crisis of December 2065.

Full (Incomplete) US President List in the DWU from 1960 – 20XX (Some years are guessed)

Historical Before This Point

John F Kennedy (1961-1963) (assassinated)

Lyndon Johnson (1963-1969) (VP who succeeded their predecessor)

Richard Nixon (1969-1974)

Gerald Ford (1974-1977) (VP who succeeded their predecessor)

Jimmy Carter (1977-1981)

Ronald Reagan (1981-1989)

George H.W. Bush (1989-1993)

Carrol (1993-1994)

Bill Clinton (1994-1997) (Presumably VP who succeeded their predecessor)

Tom Dering (1997-1999)

George W Bush (1999-2001) (Presumably VP who succeeded their predecessor)

Bruce Springsteen (2001-2003)

Chuck Norris (2003-2005) (VP who succeeded their predecessor)

George W Bush (2005-2007)

Arthur Coleman Winters (2007-2008) (VP who succeeded their predecessor)

Winter’s VP/Speaker of the House (2008-2009) (Succeeds Winters after he’s killed by Saxon)

2009-2017 Term

Felix Mather (2009-2017) (Presidency overwritten by Faction Paradox)

Sampson (2009-2017) (Presidency induced as an aberration by Lolita)

Barack Obama (2009-2017) (Replaced Felix Mather in history)

2017-2021 Term

Daniel Strunk (2017-2021) (Presidency overwritten by Faction Paradox – Mather’s Successor)

Matt Nelson (2017) (Presidency induced as an aberration by Lolita – Assassinated at Inauguration)

Lola Denison/Lolita (2017-unknown) (Assassinated her predecessor)

Donald Trump (2017-2021) (Replaced Daniel Strunk in history)

After 2021

Courtney Woods (unknown-2049-unknown)

Gavin A32X40 (unknown – 2086 – unknown)

Corollaries (President List)

The Eighth Doctor gives the list of Presidents as Carter -> Reagan -> (HW) Bush -> Clinton -> Dering -> Springsteen -> Norris

The President given in 2004 is referred to by the nickname ‘Chuck’ in Cat’s Cradle: Warhead which combined with the fact Springsteen was the President in 2003 and ‘Norris’ succeeded them suggests that the 2004 President was Chuck Norris.

The President in 2006 was implied to be George W Bush based on Harriet Jones’s dialogue. He was previously stated to be President in 2000 (Which he hadn’t been in real life)

Clinton is stated to be President in both 1997 (by metaphor in Placebo Effect) and in 1999 (in Rosa). However both of these are less conclusive than Tom Dering’s direct appearances in Option Lock and and Millennium Shock (also 1997 and 1999) implying that the mentions in Placebo Effect and Rosa were merely off by 1-3 years.

Obama is explicitly stated and shown to be President in 2009, 2012 and 2016, however Felix Mather is stated to be President in the 2010s, physically meeting the Eighth Doctor in Trading Futures. It is stated that Mather’s role in history was replaced due to Mather refusing to make a deal with Faction Paradox and so that has been taken into account.

Concerning the 2017-2021 Presidential Term

Donald Trump is stated to be a candidate in 2016 and is subsequently stated to be President in 2017, 2018 and 2020.

In contradiction, Daniel Strunk is stated to be President in 2017.

This is resolved by having Strunk be Mather’s successor who’s term was also replaced when Faction Paradox remove Mather’s term from history.

The Faction Paradox novel ‘Head of State’ depicts a 2 term Democratic President named Samson who is succeeded by Matt Nelson of a newly formed Radical Party. They are subsequently assassinated by their VP, the sentient humanoid TARDIS Lolita (Who has also been War Queen of Gallifrey and Queen of the UK before, as well as having devoured the Eleven Day Empire). It’s unknown how long she served nor when beyond ‘Early 21st Century’. She (along with Matt Nelson and Samson) have been as a temporal aberration replacing Mather and Strunk before themselves being replaced by Obama and Trump following Lolita’s defeat in True History of Faction Paradox and the ending of the War in Heaven.

A 2000 Bernice Summerfield short story claims Hillary Clinton was US President at some point. However, these records are portrayed as suspect with Bernice questioning them herself and have been ignored for lack of a position to place Clinton into the timeline.

#doctor who #dweu #doctor who eu #faction paradox #uk prime minister #us president #prime minister #president #in doctor who though #will update

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pscottm · 2 months

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Ohio removes 155,000 from voter rolls ahead of November's presidential election | AP News

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trialsinthelateromanrepublic · 11 months

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trial of Appius Claudius Pulcher

date: 50 BCE, verdict reached by late May charge: lex Pompeia de ambitu (misconduct in election for office [censorship of 50?]) defendant: Ap. Claudius Pulcher cos. 54, cens. 50 advocates: Q. Hortensius Hortalus cos. 69 (ORF 92.XXV) M. Iunius Brutus pr. 44 (ORF 158.III) prosecutor: P. Cornelius Dolabella cos. suff. 44

Cic. Fam. 3.11.2, 3.12.1; Brut. 230, 324

#tagamemnon

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 7 months

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About Meghan not being sporty vs Kate being sporty.

I was very surprised to find that Meghan isn’t sporty at all considering she attended private school.

In the UK, private schools practically force their their pupils to participate in sporting activities which means that Kate was always going to have some level of sporting skills or interest and the fact that she turned out to be so good at sports AND has an interest in it is a bonus.

Ditto interest in Art, Music and a whole host of activities that are not available to state educated pupils.

I suppose I don’t understand the American private system or the entire education system because in UK you can always tell someone who is privately educated because they’ll have rudimentary knowledge and or skill at all these things that are treated as exceptional in Kate.

Our state schools are hit and miss. The good ones try to ape private school education and the bad ones are just holding cells for children who will more than likely be failed by the school and spit them out uneducated in anything.

That said, when I first heard that Meghan was dating Harold, and learnt that she was friends with establishment people in Canada, I assumed that she’d acquired these skills because why would a person go to such great lengths to enter a world very different from yourself, and remain determinedly ignorant about it especially the ways that would make you comfortable in that world.

I honestly thought her private school education would be a great help in helping her assimilate into that world.

*******

So how education generally works here in the US is that we have core classes in math, history/social studies, English/literature, and science. The rest is all elective - art, drama, music, choir, band, computer class, physical education*, foreign languages. The number of electives vary per age/school year. They also depend on what your state/school district’s curriculum requirements are.

Most schools will have some kind of mandatory elective, usually PE and a foreign langauge. Others might require more, others less.

This is the same curriculum between state/public schools, private schools, and homeschooling. Usually the difference between the type of schooling is in what electives are on offer or the material that’s within each subject or how much itme is spent on each subject. For instance, a religious private school (such as Immaculate Heart, which Meghan attended) might require a class on religion or have a daily chapel. And in my school district, my school schedule was seven classes on an A/B schedule but my cousins in another state had school schedules of 8 class periods every day.

Now PE. A few things about PE that might surprise non-Americans:

PE does not focus on one single sport or physical activity. Its primary focus is to teach physical fitness to children with a goal of helping them find a recreational activity that they like.

PE is also not just PE. For many schools, it’s where we get instruction on driver’s ed and health and nutrition. In my school district, PE was also where we were taught “family life” (aka sex ed and puberty. Yes, it was as weird as you think.)

Depending on your state or district requirements, PE can become an optional elective. In my school district, PE was mandatory through tenth grade/age 15. For eleventh and twelfth grades (ages 16-17), it was optional.

Up until about 2010ish, PE was based on military fitness requirements. There was a presidential mandate, called the Presidential Fitness Test, that basically groomed schoolchildren to perform to military fitness standards so we could be recruited for the military.

Now most schools do have sports programs and sports teams, but they’re extracurriculars, and predominantly after-school. It’s not mandatory and school sports typically begin around seventh grade/age 12. Until then, most kids are playing sports in recreation or youth leagues, which has caused school teams to be “professional”-like in that the only way to make it onto the school team is to have several years’ experience in rec league. If you’re new to the sport, just playing to have fun, or playing to learn it, you’re not going to make the team. That’s what rec league is for.

Which sounds different from how you’ve described what sports/athletics are like in the UK. It sounds like your schools not only give time for students to learn and practice sports, they also make some kind of specific athletics mandatory. Of course it makes sense that Kate would have some level of sport skill.

Whereas here in the US, we have a more generalized approach to education, including athletics and fitness. So to me, it makes perfect sense for Meghan to not have any athletic ability or any interest/skill in sport - she did the basic PE that a lot of us did and filled up her extracurriculars with theater. It’s pretty normal for us.

(Like I played softball, but I wasn’t good enough to be on the school team so after aging out of the rec league at age 14, I did band, a book club, and peer tutoring for extracurriculars.)

#ask #submission #us vs uk differences

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nokingsonlyfooles · 3 months

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More Conservative than Reagan

“But I also refuse to believe that for us to continue to be America that embraces immigration, we have to give up securing our border. They’re false choices." -Joe Biden

😐

OK.

For reference, here's Ronald Reagan's asylum program. He updated the Registry Act of 1929, which has been done four times. We haven't done it since. It's "discretionary" which means you can dropkick anyone to the curb for no real reason if you must. However, this is a preexisting law that applies to all immigrants residing in the US who arrived before a given date, not just kids or spouses. And you don't have to wait three years, you just apply. Slightly under 3 million people got "legalized" in this way and my grandfather was one of 'em.

And here's what we know about Biden's plan, although they haven't hammered out the details - like how it's actually going to work or be funded. They can still reject you for no real reason, but there are lots more hoops to jump through. The AP is crowing about "half a million" when an update to the existing law resetting the year to, say 2009, would open the doors to five-and-a-half million. Jesus! Five-and-a-half million people could stop clogging up the broken system and living every day of their lives with deportation hanging over their heads.

Are Republicans still screaming and shitting about it anyway? Yes. Yes, they are. So what's the point of penning new legislation that does the same thing Reagan did, but less? You don't even have the luxury of saying, "You losers are upset by REPUBLICAN POLICY?" like when Obama adopted Romneycare.

I mean, it's winning. The point is to win. We know this. Many are willing to forgive it, or at least play along.

This is a carrot-and-stick approach. We started with the stick, and here's a carrot, for those who care about immigration but are willing to compromise and throw some immigrants under the bus. If Trump gets into office, you won't even have this! You need to wait THREE years, so if you don't want this taken away, you NEED to Vote Biden!

A lot of people need help. If this actually gets help to some people, I'm glad. But the blatant political calculus makes me sick. These are human beings, not chess pieces. We need audible voices from the actual left to prevent this kind of thing, or at least call it out. But we don't want Trump to win and take away whatever bone Democrats are willing to throw us, so we sit down and shut up.

We can't keep doing this. We can't keep expecting the people in power to help us when their main priority is votes, and all they need to get votes is point at the other guy and go, "He's WAY worse!" This is the level of commitment that gets us: we'll only help you if you hand us the next election... or the next one, or the next...

#us news #ap news #immigration #biden

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steelbluehome · 19 days

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The Associated Press News

They made a movie about Trump. Then no one would release it

By JAKE COYLE

September 4, 2024

NEW YORK (AP) — Hard as it may be to believe, there aren’t a lot of Hollywood agents clamoring for their star clients to take the role of one of the polarizing political figures of the 21st century.

Sebastian Stan, though, was committed to “The Apprentice.” More than anything, he believed in its director, the Iranian Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi. And, even though it made him nervous — or maybe because it made it him nervous — he wanted to do it. He wanted to play Donald Trump.

“There wasn’t a lot of competition,” Stan says, chuckling.

“It was one of those things I thought: If this isn’t going to happen, it’s not going to happen because of me,” Stan says. “It’s not going to not happen because I’m scared.”

By a landslide, “The Apprentice” is the most controversial movie of the fall. It stars Stan as a young Trump playing apprentice to the attorney Roy Cohn ( Jeremy Strong ) while trying to make a name for himself in 1980s New York real estate. Already, “The Apprentice” has had one of the most tortured paths to movie theaters of any 2024 release.

After its debut at the Cannes Film Festival, all the major studios and top specialty labels passed on making an offer. One potential issue was a cease and desist letter from Trump’s legal team. Another was that one of the movie’s investors — Dan Snyder, the former owner of the Washington Commanders and a Trump supporter — wanted to exit the movie.

Only last week, Briarcliff Entertainment announced that it will open “The Apprentice” on Oct. 11, just weeks before Election Day. And it’s still fighting for more screens. On Tuesday, the filmmakers took the unusual step of launching a Kickstarter crowdsourcing campaign to raise money for its release.

“This project has been pretty crazy, from beginning to the end,” Abbasi says. “It’s still not completely there. It’s going to get more crazy, maybe.”

Trump’s reelection campaign has vigorously opposed the movie. After its Cannes debut, Trump campaign spokesperson Steven Cheung called the film “pure fiction.” On Friday, after its release date was confirmed, Cheung declared it “election interference by Hollywood elites.”

What role, if any, “The Apprentice” might play in the lead-up to Nov. 5 will be one of the most notable storylines at the movies this fall. While many Hollywood stars are vocal supporters of Democratic nominee Kamala Harris, it’s far rarer that plainly political films squeak through today’s sequel- and superhero-dominated movie industry. That makes for a unique election-year test case: Will liberals want to see a film about Trump? Will conservatives turn out for a film Trump opposes?

Abbasi, whose previous film “Holy Spider” turned a questioning eye on Iranian society through the story of a serial killer targeting women, says he’s not trying to tell anyone how to vote.

“Do I want to show you some stuff about character? Yes, I would very much love that and I think we have some great stuff to show,” says Abbasi. “What you do with that knowledge is up to you. But that knowledge might come in handy if you want to go and vote.”

To Abbasi, grappling with contemporary politics is his responsibility as a filmmaker. As ubiquitous as Trump is, Abbasi argues there have been paltry attempts to really understand the former president.

“With Donald and Ivana, they’ve never really been treated as human beings,” Abbasi says. “They’re either treated badly or extremely good — it’s like this mythological thing. The only way if you want to break that myth is to deconstruct it. I think a humanistic view is the best way you can deconstruct that myth.”

“For me, the best comp for him is Barry Lyndon,” Abbasi adds, referencing the Stanley Kubrick film of the same name. “When you think about Barry Lyndon, you don’t think about that guy as being a bad guy or a good guy. He has this ambivalence and this uncanny ability to navigate. He wants to be somebody. He doesn’t really know what or why. He just sort of wants to ascend.”

“The Apprentice” found a mixed reception from critics at Cannes, though Stan and Strong were widely praised. The movie notably includes a scene in which Trump, as played by Stan, rapes Ivana (played by Maria Bakalova). In Ivana Trump’s 1990 divorce deposition, she stated that Trump raped her. Trump denied the allegation and Ivana Trump later said she didn’t mean it literally, but rather that she had felt violated.

But, Abbasi maintains, “The Apprentice” is not a hit job. He has insisted that Trump, himself, might like the movie. At the same time, some critics have questioned whether “The Apprentice” shows too much empathy to Trump and Cohn, who was Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s chief counsel during the 1954 communist hearings.

“I don’t think any of us are above it. I don’t think any of us are born perfect people or we’re not morally compromised,” says Stan. “It’s really, really much muddier and trickier than that, life is. I think the only way we can learn is through empathy. I think we have to protect empathy and continue to nourish it. And I think one way of nourishing empathy is showing what its exact opposite can be.”

Stan, who plays Bucky Barnes (the Winter Soldier) in Marvel movies, was drawn to the film partly because the Copenhagen-based Abbasi brought a European perspective. It’s something that Stan, who was born in Romania and emigrated to the New York area with his mother at age 12, partly shares. He views the film as an origin story for a “win at all costs” ideology.

Strong is much more renowned for staying in character. (Abbasi recalls sometimes being confused by Strong’s demeanor on set before he realized he was still Roy Cohn.) But Stan also, unwittingly, dabbled in such immersion. He points to his diet, including one scene in which he repeatedly ate cheeseballs.

“I must have had, like, 25 to 30 cheeseballs that night,” Stan says. “The next morning I woke up and, I’m sorry to say, but I was on the toilet at 6:30 in the morning before I was getting picked up. And I was in such pain. I couldn’t leave that toilet. It was like: Yeah, I guess this is method acting.”

When the fate of “The Apprentice” seemed uncertain, Abbasi was in disbelief. He felt he had made an edgy film, but an entertaining one.

“I always thought of the United States, yes, it’s not a perfect place. But one thing was always repeated to me: This is the land of the free. This is the land of freedom of speech. You can say what you want here,” says Abbasi. “That’s not what I’ve been met with. I’ve been met with sheer business calculations.”

Strong echoes those sentiments.

“It was almost effectively banned, and I find that, alone, very frightening and a harbinger of dark things,” says Strong. “But first and foremost it’s a movie. It’s not a political act or a political event. It’s a movie.”

All three of them, ultimately, just want people to see “The Apprentice” — if possible, with an open mind.

“We’re in a very black-and-white mentality right now, and I went into this movie knowing that,” Stan says. “But let’s take the road less traveled, and maybe other people will, too. I think we have to look at public figures that are consequential in our times, in our lives and we have to reflect and evaluate them.”

#sebastian stan #ali abassi #jeremy strong #maria bakalova #the apprentice

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months

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Alanna Durkin Richer at AP, via NewsNation:

WASHINGTON (AP) — Steve Bannon, a longtime ally of former President Donald Trump, must report to prison by July 1 to serve his four-month sentence for defying a subpoena from the House committee that investigated the attack on the U.S. Capitol, a federal judge ruled Thursday. U.S. District Judge Carl Nichols in Washington granted prosecutors’ request to make Bannon begin serving his prison term after a three-judge panel of a federal appeals court last month upheld his contempt of Congress conviction. But Nichols also made clear on Thursday in his ruling that Bannon could seek a stay of his order, which could delay his surrender date.

Nichols, who was nominated to the bench by Trump, a Republican, had initially allowed Bannon to remain free while he fought his conviction. But the panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit said all of Bannon’s challenges lack merit. Bannon was convicted in 2022 of two counts of contempt of Congress: one for refusing to sit for a deposition with the Jan. 6 House Committee and the other for refusing to provide documents related to his involvement in Trump’s efforts to overturn his 2020 presidential election loss to Democrat Joe Biden. Bannon’s lawyer at trial argued the charges were politically motivated and that the former adviser didn’t ignore the subpoena but was still engaged in good-faith negotiations with the congressional committee when he was charged.

MAGA ally Stephen Bannon ordered to jail by July 1st to begin his 4-month sentence, as Trump-appointed judge Carl Nichols granted the prosecutors’ request to begin his jail sentence soon.

#Stephen Bannon #MAGA Cult #Carl Nichols #DC Circuit Court #House Select Committee on the Capitol Insurrection

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vodkori · 2 years

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Love is Chronic

1.6K words

Fluff/Comfort Fic

You’ve been suffering from chronic pain for years. It’s hard, but you figure it out and enjoy life whenever possible with more doctor's appointments. In the past couple of months, it has gotten worse. It hurts to get out of bed and can no longer attend full days of school. The doctor's appointments have become more frequent to figure out what's causing the immeasurable pain, at least 2 a week.

You’re a high school junior and have been dating Loki for 2 years. He asked you to homecoming freshman year, and you have been dating since. He’s been there for every emergency room visit, every breakdown from doctors not listening, and every diagnosis. When the pain gets too bad that you have to cancel plans he’s always there to reimagine the plans to make them work. Whenever teachers give you a hard time he becomes very defensive and eventually the teachers stop giving you trouble.

Every day you have first-period AP Government with Loki, Nat, and Wanda. You went through notes on Monday so today, Tuesday, you were given notes to read from the book and make notes in groups. You weren’t feeling well so you were just sitting with your legs on Loki’s lap, head resting on his shoulder, while he sat there rubbing your back.

“Hey did any of you get bureaucracy? I’m not understanding the book definition,” asked Wanda.

“Well, since those 2 are too busy cuddling to even open the book,” Nat responds casting a look at you and Loki, “The definition I got was, a system of government in which most of the important decisions are made by state officials rather than by elected representatives”

“Thanks, Nat,” Wanda replied.

“Hey, I have an excuse. Loki on the other hand is just slacking off,” You objected.

“Excuse me I am occupied, being a good boyfriend and taking care of you,”

“Nah, Y/N’s right, you can do 2 things at once. I mean you are a god after all. Can’t comfort your girl and finish your homework?” Nat teases.

“Shut up, Mortal,” Loki responds.

“Oh! Using mortal as an insult are we? As a lowly mortal myself I’m a bit offended,” You reply.

“Love, you know I never mean you. You’re on another level, everyone else are simply creatures,” Loki defends.

“So sweet. You think I’m better than a creature,” You coo.

A few minutes pass.

“Oh, yea!” You exclaim. “I have a neurology appointment this morning so I’ll be leaving after this class,”

“Ok, good luck,” Wanda replies.

“Hope they can figure something out for you,” Nat wishes.

“Would you like me to come with you, my love?” Loki asks.

“Thank you,” You direct towards Wanda and Nat before replying to Loki. “You know you have to stay here. I’ll text you once I’m done,”

“Will you be coming back?” Loki asks.

“The current plan is yes, but chances are I’m gonna feel too shitty to come back and will stay home,”

“Alright love, just let me know,” Loki states, kissing your forehead. “Is it alright if I come over after school?”

“Of course, I will. Yea that’s fine just head over when school lets out,” You answer.

Nat, Wanda, and Loki continue to work while you rest your head from your migraine. A while later the bell rings. You say your goodbyes to Nat and Wanda, and head to the door with Loki.

“I’ll text you soon Love,” You say.

“Alright My Queen, I’ll see you soon,” He states, pulling you into a soft kiss.

You go to the office and sign out, leaving. You drive home to meet with your mom to go to the doctor's office.

The appointment results in nothing more than wasted gas. The doctor was once again condescending. On your way home you are in your regular immeasurable pain along with the emotional pain of haunting thoughts of your pain not truly existing and the fact no one believes you. The pain is too much to return to school, so after a conversation with your mom you stay home. When getting home you exhaustedly get into your pajamas consisting of an oversized t-shirt once belonging to Loki. You pull up your favorite playlist on Spotify, text Loki that you’ve arrived home, and immediately fall asleep.

Loki’s POV (After you left)

After saying goodbye to Y/N I went to environmental science which I had with Thor and Bucky. Normally I had it with Y/N as well but obviously, she was gone. The teacher was normally late so we always had 5-10 minutes to talk at the beginning of class. Thor and Bucky came in about 30 seconds before the bell rang having first period together on the other side of the school. They came in and sat down, Thor never being someone that was quite immediately started a conversation. I think that's, why he and Bucky were such good friends, Bucky, is quiet and untalkative, while Thor is loud and conversational.

“Brother! Where is Y/N? You two never seem to separate,” Thor exclaimed.

“She is at another doctor's appointment,” I answered worry fully.

“Ah! Is she still feeling poorly?” He questions.

“Yes, just about always,” I answer.

“Shall I tell mother that you will not be coming right after school?” He tries to aid.

“I’m she assumes at this point but yes I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I express.

“No sooner done than said, Brother,” He responded.

“I’m sorry. What?” I ask confused.

“Oh, Loki. It is a common phrase meaning I will do it immediately. You really need to catch up on your slang brother,” He answers patronizingly.

“Well, ‘Brother’ I think ‘No sooner said than done’ would be the correct phrasing,” I reply snidely.

“Oh! Perhaps it is,” He considers.

After our discussion ends Thor goes on to talk about his first-period weightlifting class and football practice the night before.

The rest of the day goes by without anything notable happening, Y/N texts at about 11:30 saying she was home. As soon as the last bell rang I was out the door and in the parking lot. I get in my car and drive to her house. I grab my backpack and knock on her door, her older brother lets me in, and I go directly to her room. I walk in quietly as she’s normally asleep after a strenuous day. And that fact continues to prove true. As I walk in she’s asleep on her side with her thighs at a 90-degree angle to her torso, one hand under her head and the other brought up forearm in front of her face hand touching her other elbow. I quietly take off my shoes, go to the side of the bed she’s not sleeping on, set my bag down, and slip under the covers. Needing the comfort because I know there was nothing else I can do for her but comfort and feeling lost at that knowing from the slight disarray of her room the appointment didn’t go well, we both needed it. After getting situated I carefully shift her onto my lap and chest. She murmurs and looks up at me waking ever so slightly.

“Loki?” She mumbles.

“Yea, love. I’m here. Go back to sleep,”

“Ok,” She mumbles again.

As she goes back to sleep she reaches her arms around my neck and lays her head on my chest. I kiss the crown of her head and gently rub her back. Once I’m sure she’s back asleep I take the remote and change it from Spotify and put on Supernatural as I’ve been trying to catch up on her favorite show.

She starts to wake up after 2 episodes. As I feel her start to wake up a look down as she looks up at me.

“Hey baby, how ya feeling?” I ask.

“Already feelin’ like shit, migraines already killer,” She answers sleepily.

“I’m sorry love. Anything I can do?” I wonder.

“Could you pass me my migraine medicine?” She questions.

“Of course. Anything else?” I say while passing her her medicine as well as her water.

“Not right now baby. Thank you,” She days before taking her meds and kissing me on the cheek.

She looks at the TV and asks “What episode are you watching?”

“I believe it was called ‘The Mystery Spot’” I answer.

“Oh, that’s a good one. The trickster is one of my favorites,” She exclaims.

“How come?” I ask her, adoring her excitement.

“Well, both the episode and the trickster are exceptionally funny. And it helps that the trickster is pretty handsome as well.” She answers, smiling.

“Oh is he?” I ask looking her in the eye.

“Yea, he is.” She looks up at me giggling.

“If you say so, my love. I’ll let you get away with it this time,” I say before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

After another 2 hours of watching Supernatural together, we both decide that we’re hungry and order a pizza. As it gets later I ask if she wants me to stay the night tonight, which she does. I text my mother explaining that Y/N doesn’t feel well and I will be staying. She texts back quickly okaying the plan but making me promise that when she feels well again to bring her back over. I agree knowing that Y/N and my mom get along well. Soon after Y/N gets up and does her nightly routine, I also take the time to get changed into some of the clothes I’ve left here. Once she comes back we switch to Youtube to not fall asleep in the middle of the season and lay down. Me on my back and he with her hand behind my head and in my hair, her head on my chest as well as her other hand. I wrap one of my arms around her wrist and my other hand on top of hers. She falls asleep first and I fall asleep soon after her.

#Avengers!Highschoolau #loki x reader #chronic pain #the avengers #loki #mcu loki #comfort fic #comfort #fluff #loki x female reader #pure fluff #x reader #loki fluff #loki of asgard #loki friggadottir #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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