#outcast 2014 jacob

[romangoldendreams]

Outcast (2014)- Jacob & Lian

[hanasnx]

training

minors dni 18+

word count: 0.3k | character(s): jacob x f!reader

warnings: lewd body descriptions, harsh training, suggestive innuendo

“You’re weak. You won’t survive unless you toughen up.” Harsh words said indifferently as Jacob turns his back to you. The cold water of the brook you tripped in rushes past your flush cheeks. You pick yourself up on your fists, your entire front drenched, and you hiss through your teeth. It freezes in the frigid air, you’re sure it slows your movements as it paralyzes your clothing.

Nevertheless, you can’t quit now, readying your bo staff. He’d made it for you, the carving of your initials on the base of it. He can be surprisingly thoughtful when he wants to be.

“I am tough.” you argue, trembling hands grip the staff until your knuckles turn white. “Go again.”

Jacob turns on his heel towards the current, the undulating surface of the water breaking against his boot. He regards you with a look, a generous one as it travels down your sopping form. They linger on your chest, the clothing hanging to you and betraying your form, perked nipples poking through. “No, you’re done for the day.” he commands, bowing his head as he rounds you, and twirling his staff in his hand expertly.

“I can do this, c’mon,” you taunt, your body flexing in stance.

“No.” Again he denies you, firmer this time. You feel quaint. His eyes meet yours, darker than before. He clasps his hands behind his back, approaching you in passing. “It’s time to light a fire.” When he gets close enough, he inclines in your direction, lowering his voice in his suggestion, “And get you out of those clothes.”

Your head follows him as he recedes to the bank, his obvious innuendo ringing in your ears. A warmth breeds within you, originating from your neglected core.

[anakinskywalkerdarthvaderstar]

I just watched this movie for the first time last night. And I honestly enjoyed watching a lot of Hayden Christensen sword action scenes. It’s like he used his some of his lightsaber training from the Star Wars prequel trilogy days into the sword fights of this movie. It’s like watching a medieval version of Anakin Skywalker.

[coderedblood]

Lemme begin by saying I don’t know why people keep saying JBJP is going to turn heel. (Now as I say this, I am aware that a. it will probably happen now and b. surprise heel turns are both AEW’s bread and butter when they don’t have meaningful storylines for their talent and is almost always a good way to rip out the fans’ hearts. Seth Rollins’ 2014 heel turn is a master class of this instance and while there have been many attempts to replicate it, very few have succeeded.)

I sincerely hope AEW doesn’t turn Jack Perry heel. Ricky Starks is completely sexy correct when he said that the Pillars thing is sort of dumb (he didn’t say that, I’m simplifying his remarks), though not exactly from a storyline/kayfabe perspective, but if they’re gonna persist with it till one or more of them doesn’t renew their AEW contract (since MJF’s and Jack Perry’s contracts are up for renewal next year), then turning JP heel would imo be a foolish move on AEW’s part. Here’s why:

Sammy Guevara is not over with the fans outside of Texas and he can’t get over as a face. (I wonder if his habit of talking shit is the reason. Ah hell, who am I kidding? Of course it’s the reason!) He is booed to the heavens and back no matter how much they try to get him into face territory. Bluntly put, Guevara isn’t a face no matter how hard he tries to be one. (Sorry, Sammy.)

Darby Allin (fuck I hate saying his name), while he is a face currently, his status as one feels extremely artificial on his end. The fans are behind him (for some oddball reason), but he isn’t a very believable face at all. He acts very much like a heel - his vibe is very much “the world’s treated me like shit, the world owes me, and I don’t care about the world”. I’ll admit I was a fan of DA for a short time in the beginning bc I thought he had a cool look but that’s where it ended. Bluntly put, I think they’re taping twenties under the fans’ seats to get them to cheer for and put Allin over as a face.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman. He is probably the most well-known heel in professional wrestling today behind Roman Reigns. ‘Nuff said.

Jack Perry is the most natural face of the Four Pillars. With his pleasant out of ring personality (recent rudeness notwithstanding and there’s a whole other post on that here on why that isn’t a cancellable offense), the difficulty of losing not one, not two, but three of the closest males in his young life making him a sympathetic person, and his affection for his friends in and out of ring making him relatable, he’s got it. Although, it is time for a gimmick change. I’ll forever love Jurassic Express and the man and his dinosaur and wild friend gimmicks, but it is time for a change. (My mom made the excellent suggestion of some kind of rockstar, which I’m all for!) Plus people are unfortunately bored of the Jungle Boy gimmick, which I believe is the root of why people are calling for a heel turn.

What I’m saying is, you lose Jack Perry as a face, you’re losing a vital power dynamic. What is wrestling in its barest form? Good vs. evil, a human fascination that’s been around since the beginning of humanity. Turning Jack Perry heel would shake this dynamic (more than it already has been) in AEW and frankly not for good, since there is in an influx of heels in AEW. This isn’t exactly a good thing in itself because while wrestling has changed significantly since it’s become popular and faces and heels are much more expansive, you still have to have identifiable traits as one or the other, and when you have more heels than faces (and vice versa) your potential for storytelling is greatly limited. More heels, your storylines amount mostly to “who’s worse, me or you”. More faces, it’s mostly “friendly competitions, yeah!” (Neither of these are bad, but it gets boring seeing this stuff week after week.)

In a perfect AEW, the women’s division would be much more utilized beyond the Outcasts and Britt Baker and the women’s titles would mean something, Best Friends would finally be tag champions, Darby Allin would be fired and blacklisted, the Jericho Appreciation Society would go away, the Dark Order would get a storyline dedicated to rebuilding and strengthening them, and Jack Perry, Hook, and Danhausen would be trips champions.

[haydenchristensengifs]

[passable-talent]

self indulgent niche hayden christensen character x male reader has returned!!!

this time, featuring Jacob from Outcast (2014). it was a bad movie. I loved it so much.

dedicated, as always, to @haydens-moles​ - i know this wasn’t the one u asked for but i hope its close enough. i did try to showcase what he’s been doing before getting into the x reader stuff. this popped into my head and i had to write it. im sorry about it and ily 🥺

i did not expect this to be THIS long. its not awful but like. long, for what i usually do

tw: war, homophobia (briefly in the beginning), scars, wounds, sword fighting, death of unnamed characters, arrow wound

All this death. 

All this death surrounded you, you welcomed it into your home. Your mother, the honorable queen, had opened the palace grounds to the war-torn soldiers, and you, their noble prince, walked among them. 

You spoke to the soldiers about the war, thanked them for their sacrifice. You walked among them, empathizing with their pain, fetching them water or food or a nurse when they asked. 

Your heart broke for them, every one of them. They clearly believed in the crusade, believed in the mission of their king and their god... their hearts would break in turn if they discovered you believed in neither. 

How could a bloody, violent, evil war be fought for a benevolent god? How could a fair king order his men to their deaths?

You adjusted the crown you wore and walked from the main-hall-turned-medical-bay, hoping to find your father. He had grown weary with you in the recent years, your unwillingness to find a princess and your disapproval of his politics, but maybe he’d listen to you about the safety of your people. Maybe, he’d realize that you took your crown seriously, even if you didn’t intend to wear it the way that he wanted you to. After all, you were his only suitable heir- he was well into his old age, and if he intended to replace you with your brother, he’d have to wait years until the toddler was old enough to rule. You were his only choice.

You neared the entrance into your father’s throne room, but heard his voice echoing without it, and so paused just beyond the doorframe to listen. 

“I will have no soft-hearted, peace-mongering pansy on my throne! That will not be my legacy!” 

You knew your father’s opinions of you. You never, until this moment, realized how deeply they ran. 

This war, this country. Even if one day you could gain control and stop it all, they would still never respect you. Never. You saw it now- and you saw what you needed to do. 

The thought of running away was not a new one. You had, for years, considered it, weighed the likeliness. You knew you’d survive, being trained in hunting, combat, all of it, by Gallain, a noble knight. You had been trained alongside Jacob, who was both your personal knight and your best friend. 

And, something more. 

You often went to him whenever you felt like running away, and he always convinced you to stay, assuring you of your nobility and royalty. But Jacob disappeared years ago, without even a goodbye, so on that day you had no such guidance. 

With your sword, your bow and arrow, and as much gold as you could carry, you disappeared with your horse into the countryside. 

“Something must be done,” said a nobleman, a lord, commanding the center of a tavern.

“I agree,” said another, portly belly pressing against the table in front of him, “But he’s bested my guards. What can be done?” 

“He’s a thieving, murderous boy who takes more than he can carry. Surely he can be bested by just a few more guards.” 

“No, Estevan- he cuts through men like no knight I’ve ever seen. He’s terrifying. My wife is worried for our children, should he return.” 

Jacob wasn’t one to push into conversations to which he wasn’t invited, but this did seem to be his specialty. He was still a nomad, still an outcast, but now his tavern interests were less opium and more noble assistance to those who needed it. 

“Excuse me,” he said, looking up from the booth he’d been seated in, “but who might be causing you lot so much trouble?” The collection of noblemen looked at him, various expressions of disbelief and incredulousness gracing their faces. 

“You don’t know of the Dark Prince?” 

Jacob let his eyes narrow briefly as he considered the nickname against all he’d known as a knight, as well as all he’d learned as an outcast.

“I don’t.” 

The man who had been referred to as ‘Estevan’ let out an obnoxious laugh. 

“Boy, come along, to my estate,” he said, giving his friends little cheeky glances. “I’ve strengthened my guard, as I’m expecting an attempt at a thievery tonight. If you best him, I’ll pay you handsomely.” 

Clearly, these idiotic men had never heard of Jacob, the Outcast. 

Well, Jacob the Outcast had never heard of you. 

In the three years since you’d fled your kingdom, you’d created quite a name for yourself. Your first move had been taking some of the money you swiped from your father and commissioning a crown- one made of black tungsten, with none of the engravings or jewels that had once been your royal right. You wanted smooth, reflective metal, curling around your temples and into short, sharp spikes. 

You wore it whenever you weren’t alone, which was nearly all the time. You wore it when you travelled, even under your large hood; you wore it when you fought. And yes, you wore it when you stole.

Jacob followed Estevan to his estate and watched from afar while the guards he’d hired stood watch. He was hidden, and kept watch over the whole of the estate, wondering if he’d catch a glimpse of this Dark Prince. 

He was glad he’d chosen to hide, as the skies opened up upon the earth, and he kept semi-dry underneath the leaves of the tree he’d perched within. The guards, walking the length of an exterior wall, had no such refuge from the storm.

He did not notice the black-cloaked figure until it was illuminated by the torchlight. You had no sword drawn to catch the light until you were upon the guards, and the two of them fell to you without so much as a sound. 

Jacob, curious, kept his eyes on you as you broke through the wall, having made a hole between the guards’ patrols. He knew that he could easily take you down with a single arrow, but he wanted to see how this would end. 

Would you cut through guards, as one of the noblemen had suggested? Why were you attempting this theft when you had to have known you were expected here? Would you succeed? 

You entered the home silently, taking stock of your location. You’d received a bit of insider information from one of Estevan’s servants as to the location of his gold, and made a direct route to it. 

Gold, as you well know, is one of the heaviest substances on earth. But you were much stronger than you’d been as a prince only trained out of tradition, and not for any true purpose. You were strong enough to carry enough gold to buy a kingdom, and still fight your way out of here. 

Today, you would be modest. You only needed to feed a village, a few pounds was plenty. Why take what you didn’t need?

The guards were none the wiser until you made your escape, attempting to break once again through their wall to flee into the surrounding forest. You brought the whole lot of them down upon you, and Jacob relaxed against the tree, assured that you would certainly be brought to justice by the ten guards that you now face. 

Yet, you weren’t. You weren’t even harmed. Large hood still hiding your crown and your face, you bled through them, some receiving a strike to the legs to put them on the ground, others struck over the head with the hilt of your sword. You had gone through the whole of them without much of an issue, and walked at not much of a worried pace toward the forest. 

Well, if there was a time for Jacob to intervene, now was it. Nothing else stood in your way. 

He pulled an arrow and notched it to the drawstring, lifting it to his face. Even in the rain, at this distance, he would make the shot. 

No more than three seconds later, you took an arrow to the shoulder. 

There was pain, yes. It shocked you into stumbling forward, the sudden motion throwing your hood back and exposing your face. But you’d had your fair share of pain, and more pressing was the confusion- Estevan Perrero hired no archers. There shouldn’t have been any on his property, let alone one who could hit you at this range.

Against your better judgement, you turned, glancing back at the estate you had just removed a few pounds of gold from, and scanned its walls. There were no archers in sight, so you righted your hood and hurried on, disappearing into the forest, showing little care for the arrow you now carried in your shoulder. You knew better than to attempt to remove it. 

Jacob threw himself from the tree and gave chase. He couldn’t let you get far- it would be hard to track you in this rain, and he needed to find you.

He had to find this Dark Prince- because it couldn’t possibly be the young prince he’d once loved and protected, all that time ago. It had to have been a trick of the light, or the rain, it couldn’t- this hardened, scarred, skilled thief couldn’t possibly be the compassionate prince whose nightmares he’d once soothed. 

He followed you through the forests, to a trade road that lead to a nearby village. You traveled in the rain all through the night until you reached a village, just before dawn, and he followed, far enough behind that you didn’t notice him. 

Then, you carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, avoiding the arrow. You distributed the gold among the people, and though they thanked you tremendously, you waved away their offers of repayment upon the condition that you were given somewhere to sleep, and heal. 

You were allowed a room in a tavern, the biggest one available. Only once the door had closed did you allow yourself to rest, letting your shoulders fall, your eyes close. 

You were so tired. 

With one hand, you removed your black crown, regarding it with sorrow-filled eyes. Then, you reached over your shoulder and let your fingers frame the arrow; it was wedged deep into your flesh, and all of the surrounding fabric was soaked through with blood. It needed to be removed, but you couldn’t get a good angle on it, not one comfortable enough to yank it out cleanly. And a clean yank was instrumental- if the arrowhead was left behind, you’d all but lose the arm. 

You felt a little bit of panic grip your stomach, as you didn’t know how you’d remove it, and once one emotion broke through to your mind, many followed. You felt your throat close up, fighting against the past you’d left behind, the people you’ve abandoned, all of the killing and the stealing. 

“Need help with that?” said a voice behind you, and you quickly sucked up your emotions to whirl around. Had you really forgotten to lock the door?

Any number of quips and comebacks came to mind, but as quickly as they appeared, they faded- you didn’t realize the man who’d regarded you was Jacob. 

A thousand feelings flittered through you at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as you remembered, and he looked at you just as kindly. But you couldn’t push aside how he’d abandoned you without as much as a goodbye. And now- what was he doing here?

Still, you could trust his hands. So you nodded, wordlessly, and turned, gripping onto the table in front of you to make sure your muscles would stay in place as he pulled. 

He approached you carefully, as though advancing toward a wild animal, you could hear it in his gait on the squeaky floorboards. He took one hand to the center of your back, then sliding it to the side to frame the arrow with two fingers on either side. He made a small noise as he touched you- you wondered if he was worried for the wound, or surprised by the muscle that had never been there when he’d known you. 

“Don’t tense,” he said, and you gave a little scoff. Obviously, you thought to yourself, but that was certainly easier said than done. Without warning he pulled, tearing the arrow from your flesh. You let out a roar, your body falling forward, your uninjured arm barely keeping you from falling flat onto the table. Heaving, agonized breaths took control of your body until the pain ebbed, and you swallowed hard.

“Sorry,” Jacob said, glad he had used a light arrowhead that hadn’t gone deep, and was fairly easy to remove, “I wouldn’t have shot if I knew it was you.” You turned to him, surprised, narrowing your eyes. 

“It was you?” You repeated, then turned your eyes to the floor, weighing what that revelation meant. “So then- you followed me? What, have you been hired to arrest me? These people need that gold, you can’t take it back from them!” Jacob shook his head with the slightest of a smile, holding up a hand. 

“No, nothing like that,” he said, “I was supposed to stop a theft, but when I saw you-” His gaze raked down your body and back up again. “I never expected to see you so far from home. And so different.” Maybe it was meant to be sweet, but it still stung your heart that he had left you, when he disappeared to wherever he’d gone, some five years ago. Any fondness you felt for him was soured by that. 

“I wasn’t too much different, until you shot me,” you said dryly, ”Make it up to me, Jacob, help me dress the wound. That’ll be your first step.” You turned from him and began shedding layers, blood soaked as they were, and laying them over the single chair in the room. 

“My first step toward what?” He asked, and you paused, your last layer halfway up your torso, looking away from him. 

“Toward letting me forgive you.” With your grim tone, he dropped his queries, waiting for you to completely bare your torso. He searched into his own bag to find a roll of bandage. 

You waited, looking over your shoulder at him as he dug through his belongings, and then turned his attention to you. You looked away when he grew closer, closing your eyes against his touch. His hands were exactly as you remembered them- calloused, rough, warm. For a moment before he began giving attention to your renewed wound, he let his fingers trace over the scars that littered you.

“I used to know your body better than any map,” he breathed, running the pad of his finger down the long scar you’d received when your path crossed with an overzealous Mongol, “but it seems like you’ve carved yourself an entirely new terrain.” You swallowed hard as he began wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and torso, gathering your wits to make a response. 

“Well, such a thing does happen, when you disappear for five years.” You let him guide your limbs as he dressed the wound, your gaze low, breathing as evenly as you could force yourself to. 

“Where have you been?” you asked him, and if you hadn’t known him since childhood, you wouldn’t have picked up on it- but with his little exhale, you heard him smile.

“I spent a few years in the far east, in an opium-stupor,” he said, his fingers just as gentle as they’d ever been, at least when he handled you. “But after Gallain died, I’ve been travelling the world, offering my services anywhere I thought I could do some good. That was why I thought I’d be stopping a theft today.” There was so much to take in, but you couldn’t help but think of your old mentor. 

“I’d heard Gallain passed. I’m sorry.” Jacob stiffened, just for a moment, and regardless of the brevity, you felt him do it. No matter how you tried to convince yourself you were holding him away from you, your heart still ached at the thought of the grief he must have felt. 

“What’s happened to you, all this time?” He asked, pulling the attention away from himself as he tucked the length of the bandage under itself, your wound completely covered.

You had known the question was coming- it was inevitable. And still, you had to think about your answer. You didn’t want to admit the awful things you’d done, not to him.

“My father was never going to let me be king,” you said with a bit of a pitiful smile, pulling your tunic over yourself again, “You knew that, didn’t you?” Jacob let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. 

“I knew he didn’t approve of your politics,” he said, and bit his lip before he added “of us.” You shut your eyes briefly, knowing it was better than seeing whatever expression he had at those two words. Did he miss you? Did he regret being with you? Did he regret leaving you?

“But I never thought he’d cast you out.”

“He didn’t,” you corrected him, lifting your chin before opening your eyes. “I didn’t give him the chance. I left.” Jacob narrowed his eyes briefly, considering what you were saying, and you took the break in the conversation to take a seat on the bed. 

“How long ago?”

You caught his eye, and now that he stood above you, you felt almost ashamed of your actions, of the consequences they must’ve had on the people you cared about. Your poor little brother.

“Three years.”

Jacob shook his head, but didn’t say anything. Neither of you looked at the other, and neither said a thing. You looked out the window, seeing the sky grow lighter with the early morning. 

“Jacob, I need-” you swallowed harshly, “I have to sleep.” He only let out a laugh, a smile sprouting on his face again.

“Me too,” he said, and after a moment of deep thinking, turned toward the door of the room. 

“Jacob,” you said, making him pause, and turn back to you. Now that you had his attention, you couldn’t back down- but you took an instant longer to gather your courage. “You can stay,” you said, and it took you right back to when you’d said those very same words to him for the first time, when he was your knight, before he was a crusader, and you just a young teenaged prince. 

If you could assume from the fondness, affection, and longing that warmed his face, he was remembering the same thing. 

-🦌 Roe

[haydennation]

Outcast Mini Fic

Chapter 1

There was no one left. No friends, no mentor, no naïve child to teach the ways of war. No princess with soft features and a razor sharp tongue. Jacob had left the endless, meaningless, bloody fights of the holy war and traveled to the Far East to run away from his guilt, the guilt that clawed at his ribcage and haunted his dreams.

But he had to leave this world he had come to know as well. There was no guilt to run away from. He had made his peace with that. But it was a reminder of a princess he’d never have and a mentor he’d never see.

He had no destination but he would ride until his horse could go on no longer and then he would co go some more. The princess had given him enough gold to buy another horse or a passage into whatever village he could think of. The day was turning into night, the dusk’s deep blue sky in patches in the forest’s treetops. There’d never be enough deep blue dusks and star filled skies and gradual warm sunrises to distance him from the images of the recent years and days. But even so he went on. There was nothing else to do. 

The warriors that just hours ago were trying to assassinate Lian and her brother had started to move forward back towards her father’s palace. She too fell in line with them, ushering her horse to follow. She would return to her comfortable life once more, No madmen to run from, no impoverished villages to hide in, A warm meal always available. The finest silk dresses. Lian and her brother would rule together until he was old enough to become king. And Lian would marry a prince from another far east kingdom.  

She had returned to a life that so many could only dream of. That so many would never have. And yet it all seemed hollow now. Predictable. Sad.

Of course she had her little brother to get through whatever disappointments there would be and emptiness she would feel. But she wanted Jacob. The pale faced Western vagabond who had saved her and her brother’s lives.

She didn’t want a prince. She wanted him.

She knew it was ludicrous, A peasant for a husband? The nobles would be appalled. And a Westerner? Not of her own people? She could only imagine what they would say. Would she lose her title? Would they remember her with shame? Would she be a traitor in the stories they’d tell? Would she be an embarrassment?

Her little brother’s voice interrupted her ruminations.

“I miss him.” The young boy said.

Lian glanced at him wordlessly, her eyes weary.

“I know you miss him too.” Her little brother added.

“I do miss him. He was very good to us. He was the type of friend you don’t find often.”

“He should live with us in the palace. He could be my teacher until I become king. I still need more training to be a good warrior. So I can protect you if anyone tries to take the throne from us again.”

“There are many good warriors who can teach you the ways of war.” She replied flatly.

“But I don’t want them to teach me. As you said, he is a friend you don’t find often. I want a friend to teach me. Someone I respect.”

“Sometimes friends don’t make the best teachers, little brother.” Lian replied, trying to find words of wisdom in a time she didn’t feel so wise.

“But what is he to do now that he has nowhere to go? Where will he live?”

“He wanted to go, little brother. If he had wanted to stay here he would have.” She answered.

“He left because you didn’t ask him to stay.”

“He wouldn’t have stayed anyway. He’s not the type to ask for help.” Lian answered shortly.

“Maybe if you convinced him he’d be helping us, he wouldn’t feel-”

“Little brother! Enough! This week has been difficult for us and I am tired from the battle. I don’t want to hear any more about Jacob!”

“I’m going back for him. Soon I will be king. I should grow accustomed to making rules and laws and I am making one now.”

The young prince turned back and Lian called out to him but he ignored her pleas to return.  She summoned the warriors to turn back and follow her brother. He was defenseless on his own.

What purpose did this all serve? Jacob wouldn’t be there waiting for them anyway. He was long gone now. And it wouldn’t change a thing if he was. It was impossible. Her lone wish.

It could never be.

[rikrgif]

  &&& CLICK THE SOURCE LINK to be directed towards 252 gifs of HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN as JACOB in THE OUTCAST (2014). hayden was born in 1981 and is canadian.

setting: 11th century china

contains: drinking/eating, flickering lights, weapons, violence, blood, kissing, crusades imagery

please like or reblog if using.

[k00263329]

Winnie Harlow (born Chantelle Whitney Brown-Young, July 27 1994) is a Canadian fashion model and spokesperson on vitiligo, a condition she acquired at the age of four whereby patches of skin on her body lose their pigment. Vitiligo is a rare and permanent condition for which there is no cure. As a child growing up was difficult for Harlow, who was bullied and criticised by other children leading her to change schools on a number of occasions. 

In 2014, Harlow was discovered on instagram by supermodel Tyra Banks, who asked her to compete on the 21st season of America’s Next Top Model. Though she did not win the competition, Harlow’s career subsequently skyrocketed leading to her posing for ad campaigns for some of the biggest fashion designers in the world, from Marc Jacobs to Tommy Hilfiger. Harlow has since joined the ranks of supermodel as she has frequented runways during Fashion Week in Paris, London and New York, as well as a coveted gig sporting lingerie at Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. 

In an industry known for homogenising beauty, Harlow is seen as an innovator and a unique voice. Born to Jamaican parents, she struggled with her own identity growing up as she was considered an outcast by both white and black children. Despite this, her distinctive look is now her asset as she has become the “it” girl of the fashion industry, with many of her fans even coming under fire for imitating her look using make-up, a practice which Harlow herself has defended more than once. 

“Why can’t we embrace that feeling of love? Why do we have to make it a hate crime? … It is very clear to me when someone is showing love and I appreciate these people recreating, loving, and broadcasting something to the world that once upon a time I cried myself to sleep over.”

In regard to prejudice and discrimination in the fashion industry, Harlow is very outspoken. 

“I think the industry is opening up but still needs to accept various forms of beauty as a standard, as opposed to an occurrence now and then. I want to see different faces on the covers of magazines, the stars of movies, featured on billboards... It's time we open the market up and embrace people from all walks of life.”

[brokehorrorfan]

Broke Horror Fan presents Candy Corn and The Houses October Built on limited edition, fully functional VHS! The latest genre films to join our retro home video line are available now from Witter Entertainment.

Written and directed by Josh Hasty, Candy Corn stars Courtney Gains (Children of the Corn), Pancho Moler (3 from Hell), P.J. Soles (Halloween), Sky Elobar (The Greasy Strangler), and Tony Todd (Candyman).

The 2019 slasher arrives on VHS in a black clamshell case with artwork by Justin Osbourn, courtesy of Fright-Rags. It’s limited to 100 units. 25 variants feature orange tapes, 10 of which are bundled with the soundtrack on colored vinyl.

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Each tape includes exclusive cast introductions and a letter from Bobby Roe and Zack Andrews. Stay tuned after the movie for special features: Exploring the Houses October Built and Behind the Screams featurettes.

For optimal VHS viewing, the films have been cropped from their original aspect ratios to 4:3 full frame. They are officially licensed and have been approved by their respective filmmakers.

It’s Halloween weekend and a group of bullies are planning their annual hazing on local outcast, Jacob Atkins. When they take things too far, he’s resurrected to seek revenge against those that wronged him.

Underneath the fake blood and cheap masks of countless haunted house attractions across the country, there are whispers of a truly terrifying alternative. Looking to find an authentic, blood-curdling good fright for Halloween, five friends set off on a road trip in an RV to track down this underground Haunt. Just when their search seems to reach a dead end, strange and disturbing things start happening, and it becomes clear that the Haunt has come to them…

[ramblingshit]

Some Video Game Ratings

> Heavy Rain - 2010 - 3.5/5

good enough gameplay, somewhat interesting story, nice twist, but the stupidest most unbelievable kids in all of history. Only a few emotional moments but otherwise pretty bland. Fun though. 

>Horizon Zero Dawn - 2017  - 4.5/5

fuckin awesome concept and execution, love the clothes options, love the progress from outcast to basically a fuckin goddess, that she’s a clone of Elisabeth, her finding her body at the end fuckin made me cry, it was beautiful and so realistic and grounded, everything felt like it could have truly happened, the ruins of the city they have no concept of, just bits of strange metal. The whole gaia program and the enemies being manipulated by the dark side of it. Love alloy, love the gameplay – stealth and otherwise, love the story, love the visuals. Boyyyyyy. Love this game. 

>Ratchet and Clank  - 2016 - 2/5

nostalgic and pretty fun, clean but dull visuals, fine voice acting, but very much a children’s game with very little depth to story or characterisation. Meh. 

>Until Dawn - 2015 - 4.5/5

fuck me another fantastic game, story was brilliant, twists and turns and people dying at any moment, visuals were great, acting was stellar, action and sneaky scenes were terrifying tryna hold that controller as still as possible, literally put it down at times to keep us from getting our jaw ripped off. Quick time events were fun and stressful. Was actually really fun to replay episodes to get achievements and all collectibles. Fkn love this game, Sam and Mike for the win, with Emily a close second, Matt and Chris are meh but Ashley can suck a fat one, like damn that chick was a fuck up. 

>Rise of the Tomb Raider - 2015 - 2/5

good visuals, kinda fun gameplay, only interesting scene where Lara shows any kind of characterisation is where she meets Jacob in the cells and their chat there. Otherwise #notmylara. She’s not even stoic and cold, she’s just blank. Her voice actress is shit, the story is like, not even there who cares. But hair and clothing is pretty g, as is seeing the bow get better.

>Batman: the Telltale series - 2016 - 3.5/5

boy this was pretty g, chilling smashing out quick time events, batman looked a bit odd and had too many expressions and it was a bit slow at times, but some options were sick, like impaling that dude in front of a newscrew. All exploded uphill when suddenly wayne was locked in Arkham and he met fkn ‘John Doe’ who was nice if a little off and sincerely eager to be Wayne’s bestie. I decided at that moment that at all times I would go along with my dude John. Some other uninteresting stuff happened, I beat Cobblepot as Bruce and then some other stuff happened like honestly story was unmemorable as fuck. But it was a fun enough time, especially with mr pre-joker hanging around whoop whoop. Also no one cares about Selina Kyle, just scrap her honestly. Actually good twist with vale being Arkham or whatever and wayne getting shot in the ear instead of letting Alfred get hurt, shout out to my bby Alfred. But otherwise it was decent game. 

>GoT: the Telltale series - 2014 - 2.5/5

only cared about Rodrick and whats her face in king’s landing. Other black cloak guy was forgettable, dude running around Dorne n meeting khaleesi even more so. Made kings landing girl good at the game, manipulating here and there, doing what she could to keep alive, keeping everyone at arms length. Had her accept whatshisface’s proposal and sacrifice her one loyal friend the coal boy to stay alive. Brutal, I loved it. Rodrick and getting him strong enough to fuck off the whitehills was sick, but tragically had him sacrifice himself for his dumbass little brother but tho I regret it I knew it was what the loyal family man would have done. But anyway visuals sucked ass, gameplay was telltale’s usual fuckery and there you go who gives a shit about the rest amirite. 

>Amnesia: the dark descent - 2010 - 4/5

good atmosphere, ambient lighting and sounds make you tense AF, stories pretty good, finding out that you were a piece of shit helping alexander torture people for his whatevers to power them before he had to kill a kid or a woman or something and decided he felt like shit and didn’t wanna do it anymore so took a forget potion to reset himself and hopefully work to stop what he helped alexander start. Also I think alexander was an alien but whatevs. Bad guys were scary at first but you soon realise that the majority of them patrol for a bit but if you wait long enough they literally just fuck off and youre free to do what you want its fully wack. Had fun, mechanics were cool, visuals were good for its time. It was hella dark so keeping enough oil for the lantern was enough. Most of the story was told in letters, which were badly read by the actors but you could just skip em so no real worries. A few puzzles and collecting shit here and there. In a solidly well done game. 

>Fallout: New Vegas - 2010 - 5/5

occasionally characters mention people/things that you didn’t or didn’t even have the option to, mention or ask about, had a lot of experiences with enemies warping through walls or getting stuck in the ground, crashes with fire effects, female models talking with male voices, game freezing on loading screens and having to restart entire system to get out of it. All of this is forgiven because fallout new vegas is a fucking gem – it is the epitome of a RPG, you can do and be almost anything you want. The customisation is awesome, the factions and faction clothes are fantastic. The karmas a bit iffy because my character is a kleptomaniac and stealing lowers your karma so I’m basically the Devil but everyone in the wasteland loves me? But again, I can forgive. I’ve played this multiple times and am still finding new quests or new ways to complete old quests; new places, new people to talk to etc etc. this game is beautiful, I love it. Closest thing to perfection you’re gonna find.

[hanasnx]

"taint."

MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 3k | CHARACTERS: jacob x lian SUMMARY: after their shared kiss, lian is desperate to know how jacob really feels about her. WARNINGS: religious themes | mild angst | kinks: size, corruption | nipple play | mentioned: drug and alcohol use, purity culture | pussy rubbing | biting | implied smut

A kiss. A kiss that could not be described as harmless. It’s a confession, a breaking point, a promise. Even if Jacob refuses to acknowledge it. He lets the heavy air plod, the tension caused by their mistake hangs over their heads, accumulating into the existing cloud that’s loomed over his shoulder for over a decade. It makes no difference to him if he’s added one more sin to his fold. Even if that cloud is dark and heavy with rain, his justice is well underway to cost him his life for his misdeeds. It’s why he was a drunkard. A frequent of a tavern until they kicked him out on his ass into the cold winds. Until he needed something stronger, suckling on the teat of opioids to render himself consciousless. 

A princess doesn’t deserve that. Lian doesn’t deserve that. When she’d first come to him she was painted white; woven in a cocoon of expensive silken fabrics. An angel cursed by his company. Even though God has abandoned him, he prays anyway. He prays for Lian. 

He doesn’t look at her if he can help it. Any business he attends to in the cave is met swiftly and soberly. Filling his time and his mind with tasks that require his attention means he can’t stop to contemplate her. To deliberate over whether he made the right decision last night. It haunts him. 

How coldly he’d treated her after she’d opened herself to him, how the touch of her lips lingered on his, until he’d demanded more. How his arms had wrapped around her, pressing her flush against him. Her inexperience shone through her stiff stance. When he’d deepened the kiss, she didn’t know how to receive it. A grim reminder of how he taints her. Temptation took root that night, he could see it in her eyes. She wanted him. 

“Jacob. Touch me.” she’d said. 

“I can’t.” 

To deny such a request, to deny an angel, felt blasphemous. He had taken his leave as he battled contempt for himself. She remained, alone and hurt in his wake. 

“Do you resent me?” Faint words lilt in reservation, and he snaps back to present at the alert of them. He listens to her footsteps approach him, and he pivots his neck in their direction. All he can see are the shadows of her figure in the fires. It’s quiet in these quarters, the cloth separating this room from the passageway offers privacy but no noise suppression. It must mean they’re alone in this field of the caves. 

A fear blooms in the pit of his chest, the black tar of it mixes with the flowery meadow of new love. He’s lost in the labyrinth of his mind again, the lines of right and wrong blurred hopelessly. 

Gentle hands rest on his shoulders. Nimble, and feathery, they’re like doves that land on his armor. It dims his torment, if even for a second. For one wicked second, he’s free, and it crashes down as soon as she guides him to turn. His storming eyes meet hers. The shallow pinch of her eyebrows, upturned in worry, crushes him. Damn him for causing her pain. A cold palm cups his cheek in comfort and familiarity. He shies away from her, and she hesitates. The trembling hand falls to her side. 

“Lian.” he speaks brokenly. “What are you doing in here?” After evading her all day, she tracks him down during a moment of rare and unwanted peace. 

“I came to find you. You’ve hardly spoken a word to me all day. Have I hurt you?” A pitied lull of her head to the side, searching his gaze, and he yearns to brush his fingers through her lustrous hair. 

On the contrary, on the most absurd contrary. he thinks. “No,” he responds. “You should go.” 

A disheartened expression befalls her, altering her perfect features in a light he can’t bear to look upon. Knowing he’s the cause of her despondence. He skirts her, and she whirls around to follow his receding back. “Should I?” she asks, a tone with an edge of desperation, begging him to reconsider. 

He stands still as he cannot answer. 

“What have I done to you?” Another inquiry, yet it’s spoken differently this time. As if she goads him into admitting that this is about their kiss. “Please, tell me, Jacob.” His name on her tongue causes his eyes to fall shut. She’s only learned his name days ago, and every opportunity she has to invoke it, she does. He inhales deeply to calm his quaking nerves, fighting off his overwhelming emotions, and his tyrannical withdrawals. Everything heightens when she’s around him. 

“You must know.” he reasons, his stoic nature consistently melts within her atmosphere. 

“I won’t unless you tell me.” Her watery words quiver in her throat. 

His heart aches. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” he tells her, and he absorbs her reticence, continuing on, “After I’ve restored you to your throne, I’ll be off. You’ll never see me again.” 

A gasp, and a hurried step forward is abruptly cut off. As if to mirror how she first recruited him to escort her through the mountains in hiding, she offers him payment once more, but this time it’s to stay with her. “What can I give you? Money?”

He faces her. “Don’t say that. I don’t want that.” Surely, she must know. 

Lian’s confidence wavers at the sight of him. Gathering bravery, she pushes through. “What do you want? Do you want me?” His brows furrow at the idea she could doubt that, yet it’d be better if she didn’t know. It’d be entirely easier and safer for her if he hadn’t accepted her act of love. That kiss ruined everything. 

He falters. He cannot lie to her. “Of course I do.” he replies in a forlorn, urged whisper. 

“Then have me.” she speaks firmly, submitting herself as payment. Now he understands what she’d initially meant, his frown deepening with a shake of his head. 

“No, Princess,”

It’s not known to Lian that men deny what they want. Any man she’s ever known has been taught to take their desires. To forge paths and change fates to gain their yearnings. Out of frustration, she yanks her outer layer off until it pools at her elbows, pushing out her chest. Respectfully, Jacob jerks his head to the side, shielding her from himself to protect her dignity. “Are you refusing me?” 

She sacrifices herself on the altar of humiliation and he won’t answer her. After what he’d done in front of that bonfire, the way he held her as they shared their destined kiss, she could not be convinced of his indifference. So she softens her approach, taking a sheepish step forward. 

Her enchanting voice lightens, encouraging him to look at her, to comfort her. “Do you not find me… attractive?” she asks. His calculative blue eyes drift to her shoes, climbing her skirt to feed off of what she gives him. 

“Princess,” he chastises in protest, “You will find love in another.” He takes a step back. “Once you return to your kingdom you’ll be betrothed and married off, and I will remain as I am.” An addict, a failed former soldier, a broken man. His tailbone bumps the end of a table, and he’s forced to still as she advances. That recognizable gleam in her eye returns, the one from last night. How she looks at him with hunger. It’s intoxicating. He’s heard of the sirens at sea, and the lustful witchcraft of the North, but they are nothing compared to the infallible power she holds over him. Out of dread of what he will do, what he’s capable of, he fixes his hands to the edge of the table, lest they disobey him and reach out to her. “Do not give yourself to me in hopes of consummation, it will not keep me.” he warns, his empty threat thinly veiling his self-control dwindling. 

She leans into him, causing his body to jump at the brush of her fingertips against his aching chest. Those lips– those addictive lips– shape, hollowing her stunning cheek bones when she purses them to form her next question, “Won’t it?” She affords a great deal of faith in her flesh, and Jacob can’t disagree. “Do you fear it?”

He concedes, “I am no stranger to sodomy.” 

A single glance to his mouth. “How lucky.” 

The pain grows unbearable and he growls in irritation over his defeat. He’ll condemn himself later, presently he’ll give her what they both need. He surges forward, stamping his lips against hers in his enthusiasm, causing a sting they hardly notice. A content exhale from his nose fans over her face as he presses on, leading her through this. A noise retreats from the back of her throat when he tilts his head, hasty to part her lips. His tongue reintroduces itself to her, a foreign feeling stirs within her as the tip glides along her until she grants the access. 

Hers is tense, allowing him to do as he pleases. His arms wind around her waist, drawing her flush against him so she’s unable to run away. Her instinct is to back up, but he’s made that impossible now. His tongue slides against hers, goading her to play. Warily, she rears it, and he invites himself to the underside of it. When she swipes hers back and forth, his fingers dig into her hips, and excitement seeps into her through her saliva. The memory resurfaces, the one of yesterday, when he kissed her so sweetly. This is different, it’s demanding and coarse. So this is the passion she reads about. 

When he recedes, her lips idle in the form of a pucker, having been unexpectant of their impending divide.  “Are you sure you want this?” he speaks against them, pecking them impatiently between words. He stoops to her eye-level, the end of his nose prodding into her cheek as he crushes her body against his. As if he saw fit to absorb her, he can’t get her close enough, air is expelled from her lungs. 

She can’t think of one time she wouldn’t have accepted him. Even if he’d asked the day of their first meeting, when she’d thought of him as a junkie who was good with a sword. He’d earned her admiration and respect when he’d inadvertently saved her and her brother’s lives, and more so when he came back for them to escort them into the mountains. It’s scandalous, but if the opportunity presented itself, she fears she would’ve said yes to the dirty stranger. 

Now clean and familiar, he stands before her, ready to take her as she’d requested. She can do nothing but nod over and over again as she inhales a steadying breath. “Yes, yes,” Her outer layer slips fully off her arms to her feet. 

Steadily, he guides her back, that grip on her so tight she’s sure if she stumbled he’d catch her. She doesn’t dare break his intense gaze, even when the bed of furs lick her ankles and she’s pushed over. His large hand cradles the back of her head, guarding her from the impact. Rushed pecks latch onto wherever he can reach, the impetuosity of a man left wanting for far too long. The corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jawline, and she cranes her neck encouragingly. He entitles himself to her pulse point, mouthing it, teeth scraping against it in a most pleasant feeling she’s never experienced before. Unable to contain herself, she tangles her nimble fingers into his hair, tugging as she involuntarily writhes underneath him. 

A pattern of his past, a phrase slips out, rolling off his tongue and vibrating against her, “You like that, princess?” It trembles her nethers, lifting her leg out of the confines of its skirt, tucking him in between her legs. 

“Yes, yes, I do,” she answers him curiously. Her eyes falling shut from the tingles resounding throughout her body as his stubble brushes her sensitive skin. All of this is new to her. Being untouched her entire life, it brought her puzzlement and immense emotion to come to understand the heat in her core. How it had been awakened by Jacob, and reignites with his shallow thrusts of longing. His hips slot in between her thighs, his heavy belt nipping at her clothed sex. The debauched nature of it flushes her cheeks, but how can she deny true love? “Jacob?” she sighs, and his lips falter as they suck on her exposed collarbone. “What is that?”

Confused, Jacob rears, and she meets his gaze, lids heavy with pleasure. It says enough to him, and he moistens his reddened lips. He shifts to his hip, propping himself up over her on a single elbow, as his free hand comes to gingerly form over her mound. “You mean this?” 

A symphony begins in her head, harmony created by the position of his palm. He watches her diligently, pupils dilating as he witnesses her acquaintance to the sins of the flesh. The volume of her imaginary song increases as he gently rolls the heel of his hand against her, so specifically she pushes into it begging for more. If it were under different circumstances, he may delay her on the basis she’d overstimulate herself. He can’t bring himself to now. How she parts her lips in a silent gasp, faithfully rocking against his experienced touch, bowing her head and demonstrating how loyal she can be in holding his gaze. She wants this as much as he does, he can’t say no to that. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he muses, finding himself entranced with how unapologetically she chases that high. The virtuous wonder in her spellbound eyes. He can’t remember the last time he felt like that, and he wanted to prolong it for her. If they could live in this single moment forever, they would. Unfortunately, he can’t wait that long, the stiffness residing his pants fit to burst. “Have you felt anything like this before?” 

She shakes her head. It confirms his apparent suspicions. A princess allowing a lowly peasant from the West stain her, it’s unheard of. Yet he does not slow. 

To experiment, he dips his fingers into the divot of her folds, grazing residue that leaks onto the tips. An intentioned swipe sends a shiver up her spine, and he regards her reaction with interest, increasing his efforts. Every simple touch intensifies her movements, and when he circles her bud deliberately she arches her back. Without warning, she moans out. Nothing alerting, but still evocative, and he claps his palm over her mouth. Widened eyes meet his, abashed she’d lost control of herself. 

He whips his head in the direction of the tapestry that hangs in the doorway. It billows with breath from the cave’s mouth, but it’s ultimately harmless. There are no footsteps to behold. So he returns his attention to her. “You’ll have to be quiet, Lian, remember that.” he informs, and she nods under the pressure of his appendage. “If you don’t, I’ll have to stop.” She nods again. A commanding eye on her as if to scold her as he tentatively takes his hand off her mouth. An apologetic kiss presses to her lips, and she accepts it. It morphs, becoming a conduit to swallow any of her undisciplined sounds as he massages her sweet virginal sex. 

Wandering fingers are tender in their endeavor, tracing down her collarbone, and hooking into her neckline. Delicately, so as to not disturb her, he tugs the fabric down, loosening it off her shoulders. He breaks their kiss, a string of saliva connecting them, as he takes away his hand in between her legs to pull her dress down. It frees her chest, and he loses himself in the sight of them. Unlike those of brothel women, they’re shapely, and perked at attention from the stimulation. Untouched, unsullied, he’s swift to bow down and worship. His plump lips enclose around one of her nipples, and she gasps from the new sensation. He doesn’t need to admonish her because she covers her own mouth with her hand, undulating underneath him with the heels of her feet digging into the covers. His tongue swirls around her responsive nub. 

The hand that abandoned the warmth of her core cups the fat of her breast, greedy in how he handles it, near strangling it in his fervor as he mouths more and more of her flesh. His teeth bite down, and her discontented yelp reminds him where he is. He releases it with a pop, while his fingers roll the other. A cruel motion by her standards, the sharp pleasure from it twists her expression, and he basks in the notion no one has ever touched her like this except him. And it’s still early in the encounter. How is she to cope when he introduces her to every inch of his aching length? The passing fascination shifts his countenance as intensifies his efforts. For a moment, he forgets decorum. He's an animal driven by self-fulfillment, plunging his face in between her tits to gather them around his temples. He mouths and licks at the salt on her skin hungrily, burying his face in her tissue like a drunkard would a willing, warm body at a tavern. A soft laughter, like bells, snaps him out of his stupor. So he views her through his brows, playfully nipping at the side of her breast as a smile is brought to his face. She finds his intoxicated enthusiasm endearing. 

That guilt within him assuages. His hips gravitate towards hers, seeking out friction in ruts. She inhales sharply, the tip of his nose tracing up her as he leaves a trail of kisses in his wake. Sloppy, and wet kisses. 

“Jacob,” she whispers over her hand. 

He hums. 

“I’ve never… Well, I haven’t done…” she begins, embarrassed over the fact she may not be what he wants, or know what to do for him. His lips against her ear quiet her with a hush. 

“I know, it’ll be fine. Let me handle it.” he reassures, pecking her earlobe as he picks himself up to sit on his haunches. He removes his outer layer, whipping it down his arms as she watches with intrigue. He removes fabrics to bare himself to her. His belt as well as his trousers remain, and he shifts backwards. Carefully, he rides up the skirt of her dress, and his cold fingers startle her heated skin as he hooks them into her underclothes, peeling them down and off. She lifts her legs for him, poised and lithe, and he removes her shoes, palming the heel of her foot to pepper the top of it with soothing kisses. 

He settles, the backs of her knees fixed atop his shoulders as he tucks his head between her thighs, eager to relax her, prove his devotion to her. Even if it takes all night. 

[anakinskywalkerdarthvaderstar]

Interesting how Hayden Christensen went from dueling with a lightsabers as Anakin Skywalker/ Darth Vader in both “Star Wars” & “Obi-Wan Kenobi” to dueling with a sword as Jacob in “Outcast (2014)”

[plusorminuscongress]

New story in Politics from Time: The ‘Handmaiden of Trump’: How Elise Stefanik Went From Moderate to MAGA

When Elise Stefanik was elected to the House of Representatives in 2014, she was hailed as the fresh face of the new GOP. Stefanik had run for office in her 20s, determined to modernize the Republican Party to attract more women and appeal to her fellow millennials. In her victory speech, she praised her opponents for their good-faith participation in the miracle of American democracy. “No matter their party, our democratic process is strengthened by those individuals willing to put forth their ideas,” she said on the night she became the youngest woman ever elected to Congress.

Today Stefanik is still a politician on the rise, but for very different reasons. As soon as next week, she is widely expected to ascend to the position of House GOP conference chair, which would make her the highest-ranking Republican woman in Congress. And she will have gotten there by lashing herself to a cause that undermines the same democratic process she once hoped to strengthen.

The opening for Stefanik to become the No. 3 House Republican has been created by the anticipated ouster of Rep. Liz Cheney, who has lost the support of her colleagues for insisting the party stop parroting President Donald Trump’s lies about the 2020 election. Rejecting Trump’s fictions about a stolen election is enough to make Cheney, a rock-ribbed conservative and daughter of a former vice president, an outcast in today’s GOP. “Elise Stefanik is a far superior choice, and she has my COMPLETE and TOTAL Endorsement for GOP Conference Chair,” Trump said in a statement. To replace Cheney with Stefanik would send a powerful signal: that anyone who refuses to carry water for Trump’s conspiracy theories cannot carry the Republican mantle.

But Elise Stefanik is no Matt Gaetz or Marjorie Taylor Greene. She was not always a MAGA warrior. Not long ago, she was a widely respected moderate Republican known for her embrace of facts, her trust in science and her push to build a more diverse party, highlighted by her successful efforts to recruit more GOP women to run for office. She was a prominent member of the moderate Tuesday Group, a caucus of center-right Republicans. And she was widely credited for a bipartisan spirit—”every Democrat’s favorite Republican,” as one former aide to GOP leadership puts it now.

Steve Jacobs—The Post-Star/AP Elise Stefanik celebrates her win in the 21st Congressional district on election night at the Queensbury Hotel in Glens Falls, N.Y., on Nov. 4, 2014.

Yet over the last five years, Trump has redefined the GOP. Today the party primarily judges its representatives not by any particular policy positions but by their allegiance to a defeated President and an embrace of his conspiracy theories. Stefanik has adapted. It’s a calculation that has made her a fundraising star and a party leader-in-waiting. It’s also dismayed many Republicans who have worked with and admired her in the past.

“To be a handmaiden of Trump and get a little pat on the head from Trump is not a leadership move,” says former Rep. Barbara Comstock (R-VA), who worked closely with Stefanik and helped organize a small, bipartisan shower in her honor ahead of her 2017 wedding. “It’s embarrassing. It’s sad.”

So how did Elise Stefanik go from praising the democratic process to standing on the House floor in the aftermath of the Capitol riot and voting to object to the Electoral College results? How did she go from saying that one particular Republican candidate was “disqualifying themselves with untruthful statements” in 2015 to feeding vague conspiracy theories about Hunter Biden on Steve Bannon’s podcast in 2021? Her evolution mirrors the transformation of her party, while her rise within its ranks is a fall from the modern, millennial conservatism she once was on track to define.

Stefanik’s office declined to make her available to comment for this story, which is based on interviews with former colleagues, aides, friends, classmates and mentors, and draws on others I conducted with Stefanik in 2018 and 2019 for my book, The Ones We’ve Been Waiting For. Stefanik’s embrace of Trump has disappointed her high school teachers, alienated her from her alma mater and puzzled former allies and mentors who envisioned a different future for her.

“Elise could have been the face of a new generation of Republicans that could represent a real big-tent party, that could build beyond the base, that could lay the foundation for a coalition that could win elections nationally,” says Margaret Hoover, a center-right commentator who worked with Stefanik at the Bush White House and now hosts PBS’s Firing Line. “It shows that she was never motivated by principles, and that’s deeply disappointing.”

Now, as her tolerance of baseless conspiracy theories about the 2020 election propels her toward Republican leadership, many of the people who knew her in the past are asking: what happened to Elise Stefanik?

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If you ask Stefanik’s childhood classmates what she was like as a girl, two words keep coming up: “integrity” and “ambition.” Growing up in upstate New York, Stefanik was friendly with Melissa DeRosa, now an embattled senior aide to scandal-plagued Democratic Governor Andrew Cuomo. Both served in student government at the Albany Academy for Girls. In middle school they teamed up to pressure administrators to install a snack machine.

DeRosa grew into one of New York’s most powerful Democratic operatives as Stefanik climbed the GOP ladder. But despite their political differences, they remained close for a while. DeRosa was one of a handful of old classmates at Stefanik’s 2017 wedding. When I interviewed her about Stefanik two years ago for my book, DeRosa told me the old friends would frequently commiserate about the rough-and-tumble world of New York politics.

“There have been times over the years when I have called her, practically in tears, saying, ‘This just happened, I feel so beaten down, I don’t know what to do anymore,’” DeRosa told me back then. “And she is so morally supportive and will be there to coach through whatever the issue is.” Somewhere along the way, Stefanik also learned to interpret criticism as evidence that she was doing something right, according to DeRosa. “She says, ‘People who are criticizing you are criticizing you because you’re doing a good job,” DeRosa recalled. “Her attitude has been like: ‘Dig in and go the other way.’”

But in February of 2021, as DeRosa took heat for the Cuomo Administration’s alleged effort to obscure the number of nursing-home deaths from COVID-19 in New York, Stefanik went nuclear. On one occasion, she tweeted that the scandal enmeshing her friend of 20 years was a “criminal coverup,” On another, she linked to a story about about Cuomo’s senior aides, adding “PROSECUTE NOW!”

“She sort of threw Melissa under the bus,” says Caroline Mason, the former headmistress at Albany Academy for Girls, who says she kept in touch with Stefanik for years after she graduated, exchanged Christmas cards with her until last year, and even helped preside over her 2017 wedding ceremony. Mason said she had long admired Stefanik, but that “something stronger took hold of her.”

“She basically abandoned her own core values for a man who had no core values,” Mason says. “Her fealty to Trump seems to have trumped her fealty to her sisters in the House.”

After high school, Stefanik went to Harvard, becoming the first in her immediate family to earn a college degree. Stefanik was one of few conservative women at Harvard’s Institute of Politics, but fellow campus politicos told me they admired her sharp reasoning, intellectual integrity and willingness to stick to her positions, even when they were unpopular on a liberal-leaning campus. She crossed paths there with Pete Buttigieg, now the U.S. Transportation Secretary, and they even met for coffee once. (Stefanik and Buttigieg both say their coffee was purely platonic, but the rumor on campus was that it was a single, uneventful date; while Buttigieg is now married to a man, he dated women in college. “Peter and Elise were at Harvard at the same time and were friends in college and once went to coffee,” a Stefanik spokesperson said. “They did not date.” )

From Harvard, Stefanik rocketed through the traditional Republican establishment. She worked in various roles in the George W. Bush White House, then as an adviser to vice-presidential nominee Paul Ryan during the 2012 presidential campaign. After that defeat, the GOP released an autopsy that argued the GOP was struggling to reach young voters, women and voters of color. Stefanik saw it as an opening to help transform her party. With support from Ryan and deep-pocketed donors, she handily won her seat in New York’s North Country to become the youngest woman elected to Congress in U.S. history. (Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has since beaten that record.)

Jose Luis Magana—APFormer House Speaker Paul Ryan administers the House oath of office to Elise Stefanik during a mock swearing in ceremony on Capitol Hill in Washington, Jan. 3, 2017, as the 115th Congress began.

When she arrived on the Hill, Stefanik was part of a cohort of young Republicans focused on helping the GOP appeal to younger, more diverse voters. With Ryan as her mentor, she staked out moderate positions on climate change and immigration consistent with her fellow conservative millennials, and pushed the GOP to recruit more women to run for office. She also built a strong record of bipartisanship. Stefanik was the 31st most bipartisan members of Congress in her first term and 19th in her second term, according to an index compiled by Georgetown University’s Lugar Center.

Stefanik tended to steer clear of hot-button right-wing issues, focusing instead on those that affected her district, like military funding and support for rural farmers. She voted against Trump’s signature domestic policy achievement—the 2017 tax cuts—because she felt they unfairly penalized high-tax states like New York. In 2017, she introduced a House resolution to commit to addressing climate change, calling environmental stewardship a “conservative principle.”

This relatively moderate record didn’t make her especially popular with Republican hard-liners. As Stefanik emerged in recent days as a top candidate to replace Cheney, the president of the conservative Club for Growth called her “very much a liberal.” Other conservative groups, from Heritage Action to the American Conservative Union, have ranked Cheney’s record as more conservative than Stefanik’s.

But Stefanik was cultivating a reputation among colleagues as a rising star. “She had developed a really good brand: she was the young, smart, vivacious millennial who could appeal to constituencies that Republicans had difficulty with,” says a former GOP congressman who worked closely with Stefanik. “She had that real up-and-coming thing.”

When Trump first emerged as a political phenomenon, Stefanik mostly ignored him. She said she would “support my party’s nominee” in the 2016 election, but largely avoided mentioning him by name. From time to time, she carefully spoke out against him, adopting a tone of dutiful scolding. In August 2015, she said in a radio interview that Trump had been “insulting to women” and said his campaign had “hurt the effort” to reach out to them. After Trump’s Access Hollywood scandal, she said his “inappropriate, offensive comments are just wrong.” When Trump moved to ban travel from some Muslim-majority countries, she said she opposed his “rushed and overly broad Executive Order.” She said she didn’t think his plans for a border wall were “realistic” and that the President “wasn’t exactly right on that.” When Trump blasted immigrants from “sh-thole countries,” Stefanik released a statement that the comments were “wrong and contrary to our American ideals.”

But as Trump’s presidency wore on, Stefanik’s party transformed. So did her district, which voted twice for Obama before breaking heavily for Trump. “It’s only become more and more supportive of President Trump over time,” Stefanik said on Bannon’s podcast. “I represent farmers, manufacturers, and hardworking families who want someone who stands up for them, and President Trump spoke to those people.”

“If you’re looking for a through line, it’s that her district has changed and she’s always been attuned to what her district wants,” says Brendan Buck, a former top aide to Speaker Ryan. “A swing purple district got a middle-of-the-road moderate member, and now it is a Trumpy district, and they have a Trumpy representative.”

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when Stefanik’s own evolution began. Some suspect it started in August of 2018, when Trump joined Stefanik for a visit to Fort Drum, a key military base in her district. “You’re standing in front of a crowd, and all of a sudden you see there’s a bigger crowd than you normally would have,” says one former Republican Congresswoman who recalled that event.

Others point out that the political downsides of anti-Trumpism became clear around the same time. In the 2018 midterms, many Republicans who had criticized Trump lost their seats. Among them was Rep. Carlos Curbelo, a close friend of Stefanik’s who had been outspoken in his opposition to Trump’s immigration policy.

Still others see a substantive reason for the change. Stefanik sat on the Intelligence Committee during the inquiry into Russian interference in the 2016 election. While former FBI chief Robert Mueller found widespread evidence of bad behavior by Trump and others, including repeated testimony showing Trump obstructed justice, the Intelligence Committee, and later the Department of Justice Inspector General, found evidence of inappropriate investigative measures by the FBI and others. Over the course of the Russia probe, Stefanik became an outspoken defender of the President, arguing that he was being unfairly persecuted by Democrats. “The longer she served on Intelligence, the more she pivoted towards defending the Administration,” says a former GOP member of Congress.

Mark Wilson—Getty ImagesElise Stefanik stands as she’s acknowledged by former President Donald Trump as he speaks one day after the U.S. Senate acquitted him on two articles of impeachment, in the East Room of the White House, Feb. 6, 2020

Then came Trump’s 2019 impeachment trial on charges he solicited foreign interference in the 2020 election. That’s when a switch flipped, according to a former aide to GOP House leadership. Stefanik was named a member of Trump’s impeachment defense team and emerged as a vehement advocate, earning favorable press on Fox News and praise from the President himself. “She became a darling of the right and an enemy of the left,” says a former Republican Congressman who knew her well. “And she just decided to own that and monetized it.”

In the last three months of 2019, Stefanik raised a whopping $3.2 million—a seven-fold increase from the previous quarter’s haul—making her the second-highest fundraiser in the House. She had picked her side. “She has become a star,” Trump gushed on Fox & Friends.

Stefanik soon became the co-chair of Trump’s re-election campaign in New York. She gave a rousing speech at the 2020 GOP Convention about “the Democrats’ baseless and illegal impeachment sham and the media’s endless obsession with it.”

“This attack was not just on the President, it was an attack on you: your voice, and your vote,” she added. “Our support for President Trump is stronger than ever before.” This would be the basis of her defense of Trump before, during, and after the 2020 election. Her constituents were Trump’s voters, and they perceived any attack on Trump to be an attack on them.

“I think all of this is very genuine to her,” says Anthony Pileggi, a former top aide for Stefanik from the beginning of her Congressional career. “I think this is someone who is a very hardworking member of Congress, who saw that the president was being attacked during impeachment.”

Others see it differently. “Trump has won the Republican Party. Trump owns it. It is the key to her re-elections, it is the key to her fundraising, it’s the key to her advancement within Congress,” says Hoover. “She knows how to play it, so that’s what she’s doing. Never mind that it’s undermining democracy. She’s made a calculation that she can rise to power by backing the Big Lie.”

In the aftermath of Biden’s victory in the 2020 election, Stefanik stopped short of adopting Trump’s false claims that the election was “rigged’ or “stolen.” But she perpetuated the baseless claims around the election outcome.

In a Newsmax interview a month after the election, she parroted conspiracy theories about “irregularities,” then mentioned she had “concerns” about “Dominion software,” indirectly alluding to a false conspiracy theory that the voting-machine company had been part of an effort to rig the election against Trump. (Officials from Trump’s Department of Homeland Security released a statement saying that “there is no evidence that any voting system deleted or lost votes, changed votes, or was in any way compromised,” and Dominion has filed several lawsuits against people and organizations that spread the conspiracy theory, including one that forced Newsmax to retract its claims and apologize.)

In December, Stefanik was one of 126 Republicans who signed onto an amicus brief asking the Supreme Court to consider rejecting election results in Michigan, Pennsylvania, Georgia and Wisconsin. She then announced in an open letter to her constituents that she would object to electors from the same four states. Amid the insurrection, when House Republicans forced a vote on only two states, Stefanik voted to certify Biden’s win in Arizona but reject his win in Pennsylvania. She continued to make baseless claims about “voting irregularities” and “lack of ballot integrity and security,” though no credible evidence of widespread voter fraud ever emerged. (Harvard, her beloved alma mater, stripped her from the Senior Advisory Council of the Institute of Politics after she voted to challenge the election results.)

Some people who know Stefanik said she may have cultivated genuine concerns about election integrity, given that votes were cast under the extraordinary circumstances of a pandemic and the race was extremely close in some states. On Bannon’s podcast, she said she was concerned about “unprecedented, unconstitutional overreach” and “unelected judges and bureaucrats who were rewriting election laws in real time,” and raised questions about a “lack of chain of custody” for ballots. Her aides say she is simply representing the concerns of the millions of Americans who don’t believe the election was fair, including her constituents, who voted for Trump by a wide margin.

But no one I spoke to inside or outside her office believes she actually thinks the election was stolen. When asked directly, aides often pivot to “concerns” about “irregularities.”

“I don’t even know if she believes the Big Lie,” says Hoover, Stefanik’s former colleague. “But she is absolutely responsible for propagating a lie that will undermine our democracy.”

Whether she believes the lies or not, Stefanik has now aligned herself with Trump for good. She may still be the face of the GOP’s future. But that future looks a lot different than anyone thought.

By Charlotte Alter on May 08, 2021 at 12:41PM

[haydenchristensengifs]

The boy isn't like us.

And what are we like?

The world would be better without us.

Outcast (2014)

[passable-talent]

Hayden Christensen Movies

(does not include Anakin Skywalker, who can be found under “star wars”)

male reader: 🍁 | gender neutral reader: 🍂

🍁 | [Life as a House (2001)] sam monroe x reader | multipart fic: old friends (2/?)

🍂 | [Jumper (2008)] david rice x reader | short fic: new friends

🍁 | [Outcast (2014)] jacob x reader | short fic: reunion

🍂 | [Takers (2010)] AJ x reader | short fic: excited five

🍁 | [Virgin Territory (2007)] lorenzo di lamberti x reader | short fic: quiet sin