#tax teller

[heronpoxed]

One thing about Tara Knowles Teller is that the whole point of her character development is to get out of this semi-doormat situation that she's in. Throughout the seasons we see her grow from an uncertain girlfriend to a strong and determined mother who realizes that her husband is full of shit and that she needs to take matters into her own hands to make sure that her kids survive the fate that turned their father into a career criminal. That's precisely why people hate her -- because throughout her development she stops being that conventional female character written through the typical male gaze who's here to make things comfortabe and accessible for the male lead of the show. People hate that about her because the original SOA audience mostly consists of misogynists of older generation (that includes men and women alike) who always root for the man no matter what and are convinced of his unwavering righteousness.

It's no surprise that the Gen Z viewers of SOA root for Tara a lot more than its original audience.

If we look closely and think about it for a second, we'll see more doormat in Gemma than in Tara. Gemma is the one who never questions all the morally wrong things that the men do when it comes to personal relationships: she doesn't question their cheating -- in fact, she expects it (says so in s2 after Clay finds out about the SA and doesn't even feel surprised when she finds out that Jax slept with Colette), doesn't question their sexism and harmful treatment towards women and simply lets them get away with having that disgusting mindset. She has this "boys will be boys" mentality in many cases which is absolutely apalling but is mistaken for the "loyalty to her man" and found extremely appealing. Gemma has a lot more of "the male gaze" undertones than Tara and that's why people go absolutely nuts for her. They find excuses for all the destruction that she causes, which is always the consequence of her selfish actions and is a lot worse than anything Tara has ever done. But when Tara finds herself in a desperate situation and feels that is forced to make morally gray decisions for the good of her sons she is called "selfish" and "power-hungry" by some random commenter on YouTube. I've seen many wrong takes on SOA but never have I seen the character interpretation as utterly false as this one.

You may find Tara annoying and even criticize her decisions but selfish and power-hungry are not on the list of her characteristics. They're on Gemma's! but god forbid, we call the "loyal" and "badass" biker wife out on her bullshit.

Note: this is not me hating on Gemma. Contrary to popular belief, I think Gemma is an extremely well-written character and that's why I have tremendous love and respect for her. I'm just emphasizing the double standards in the fandom.

[prompt-heaven]

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t understand. Why is not only the NYT but EVERYONE screaming in circles about Biden’s age? I mean I too would love a slightly younger president, but faced with Trump, I don’t understand how this is even a discussion. What can the motive possibly be?

First answer: Money. The corporate media is not your friend for many reasons, but especially because it will happily shill for open fascism, and sabotage Biden left and right, because the corporations and/or oligarchs who own the media (think how hard Elon has been trying to shill for Trump partly due to Biden's promised 25% billionaire tax) do not give a shit about American democracy. It's kind of nice in theory, maybe, but they do not give a shit as long as they get their tax breaks and "pro-business" legislation, which Trump has perforce promised to give them again. They are also not fans of Biden for other reasons, especially since he has been busy promoting unions, new labor laws, new industrial requirements/standards (even as fast as SCOTUS is trying to strip them away) and other things that interfere with the Reagonomics pursuit of the rich getting richer by any means necessary. Biden is the first US president since Reagan to openly call trickle-down economics bullshit, say that it doesn't work, and try to install a new economic model. Everyone who got rich under Reagonomics, therefore, has incentive to get rid of him.

First-continued, the money element also extends to the fact that Trumpists/MAGA love reading stories about how old and frail Biden is (especially if this distracts from their candidate being a raging fascist lunatic), so they will click on the story and read it and gleefully share it with other Trumpists/MAGA to shout about how terrible Biden is and how the Trump Vengeance Train is coming. "Biden actively dying RIGHT NOW!!" stories also make Democrats panic, so they will click on it and read it to find out how much they should be panicking, then share it with other Democrats to let them know that they should ALSO be panicking. Either way, it drives page views and advertising revenue, so the media is once more financially incentivized to produce these kinds of stories and to find "facts" that fit these stories, regardless of whether or not they are, uh, true. American media swings conservative in many ways, but especially if they can promote the "both sides the same!" or "Horserace!!!" narrative to keep Republicans gleeful and Democrats nervous.

Basically, no mainstream media outlet (even the so-called liberal ones like MSNBC) has any financial interest or incentive in supplying Americans with accurate information (we live in late-stage capitalist hell, etc) and many of them are openly pining for Trump back in office so they can be Principled Truth Tellers In Exile, get clicks and coverage from reporting on the crazy things he does (think the CEO of CBS saying that Trump was "bad for America but great for CBS") and other activities that drive the bottom line. This also adds up to an impulse to shill for Trump and sabotage Biden, who is competent but boring. After, American politics are a reality show and should be Driving Headlines!!!! Fascist America would be a great story!!! Think of the ratings!!!

.... anyway. We! live! in! hell!

Second, the media also loves to push "Democrats in disarray" stories, because there has always been a WILD double standard in regard to how they cover the Democrats vis-a-vis the Republicans. As such, they have completely given up on mentioning anything even slightly critical about Trump, and the 500 disqualifying and awful things he has already done and continues to do every day, in favor of driving as hard as they can at the "Biden should step down!!" story. Now, I'm not denying that obviously, I wish we had a better (and younger) candidate and that Biden's health is a legitimate issue, but trying to do it to the incumbent FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE ELECTION is an exercise in sheer insanity and something that the media wants to do because again, It Would Get Clicks!!, regardless of how insane it would in fact be. It's also insane because this is the same exact fucking thing that the media did to Hillary Clinton in 2016 (running MONTHS of stories about her health problems, her emails, how she was secretly ill and/or the Democrats should replace her, etc) and A LOT OF Y'ALL ARE FALLING FOR IT AGAIN. Which isn't terrifying or anything, but also.

Now, of course, the establishment Democratic party is partly complicit in the tone of this coverage, and that is also a problem. I personally want to smack every "anonymous Democratic adviser" or "Democratic politician" giving these Anxiety Concern Quotes to Politico, NYT, the BBC, and wherever else with a brick over the goddamn head and tell them to Shut the Absolute Fuck Up and dedicate all their energy to helping Biden win, instead of deliberately and unhelpfully perpetuating the narrative that he's about to die at any moment. (And also, if he did have to step aside before or after the election for any reason: THE ONLY DEMOCRATICALLY ELECTED CANDIDATE TO REPLACE HIM IS KAMALA HARRIS. KAMALA HARRIS IS THE ONLY PERSON WITH ANY LEGITIMACY TO TAKE OVER THE NOMINATION AND/OR OFFICE OF POTUS FROM BIDEN. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT AND THINK YOUR MAGICAL WHITE MAN WILL PARACHUTE IN THERE INSTEAD, SHUT UP. THERE IS NO OTHER OPTION EXCEPT HARRIS. SHUT THE FUCK UP FOREVER.)

/deep breaths

Anyway. That is how you end up here: where the media is still diligently pretending this is an absolutely normal race between a terrible degenerate ancient Sekritly Dying Biden and.... some totally normal establishment Republican and not literally Donald Goddamn Trump. They are running many of the exact same hatchet jobs that they ran on Hillary Clinton for the same exact reasons, and ask yourself this: if Biden is just the status-quo stooge who will never change anything, HAS never changed anything, and is otherwise completely acceptable to the American/global power structure, why are they SO FUCKING DESPERATE to get him out? Why are they throwing absolutely everything they have at prying out a successful (albeit yes, old) incumbent when that incumbent is, by any reasonable metric, the most progressive president since at LEAST FDR, very definitely in any of the post-Reagan years, and possibly ever? Why are they so shit-scared of Biden as demonstrably the only candidate who can (and has) already beaten Trump, and therefore his entire ghoulish agenda of American fascism forever?

I just think it's worth pondering these questions. Yes, I had an awful anxiety attack today and applied to several jobs in Europe because the Fight or Flight instinct kicked in HARD that I needed to start working on a plan to get out of Fascist America, just in case. However, we can still forestall it. Yet again, as I will include in every post on the subject between now and November:

The end.

[bellaxgiornata]

Neighbors [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

[Series Chapter List and Summary]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

a/n: Chapter two is finally up! I know many of you have been asking for it, so hopefully you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21  @sleepysleepymom @urlocalgeek @buckysvinyl @ragamuffin285 @lollulroofl @hazallem @hellooooooooooooooo @kezibear

Chin resting in your hand, you sat at a corner table by one of the large windows in Common Grounds skimming over the documents on your laptop. A half finished latte was on the table beside you–the second one you’d had since you opened the shop about an hour ago now. 

The deadline for filing taxes was just around the corner and here you were still needing to get everything finalized and officially sent in before it was considered late. Since Jaime had dropped Lily off at preschool this morning and you didn’t need to pick her up until the afternoon, you figured now was the best time to finish the frustrating and tedious task that you’d been repeatedly putting off. It wasn't often that you had free moments where you weren’t watching Lily or dealing with something at the coffee shop, so this morning while you were free you figured you’d try to finish working on it–even if you’d rather have been back home sleeping in before eventually making your way into the shop.

With your focus fixed on your laptop, you weren't remotely paying attention to whoever had walked in through the front door of Common Grounds, even if your ears had vaguely registered Allison’s usual friendly greeting from behind the counter while you worked. The typical morning rush at the coffee shop had ended about fifteen minutes ago and you’d long since stopped paying attention to every occasional straggler that passed through the door. 

Left hand absently sliding along the table to grab your honey lavender latte, you reread one of the lines on your laptop’s screen, trying to make sense of all the frustrating tax language. Drawing the mug up to your lips for another drink, you tried to focus on the section you were currently reading, but your concentration was easily interrupted by a familiar, deep voice suddenly ordering by the register.

“Just a large coffee, black.”

Almost automatically your eyes slid over the top of your laptop, landing on the sight of none other than your new neighbor, Frank. His back was facing you as he pulled his card out of his wallet before sliding it through the card reader and paying for his drink. He was wearing his dark jacket again this morning and a pair of dark wash jeans. His expression looked fairly neutral this time from what you could see from the profile of his face–he wasn't smiling but he didn't look nearly as surly as when you’d first seen him yesterday, either. 

Behind the counter, Allison sent him another friendly smile before turning around and beginning to make his coffee. As he slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, your eyes followed the movement of his hands, admittedly lingering on a particular part of him for a moment longer than necessary as his hands returned to his sides. 

I wonder if he works out , you caught yourself thinking.

The memory of Frank crouching down to talk to your niece last night flashed through your mind as your gaze gradually slid its way up his back and towards his face again. You remembered the unexpected warm and friendly smile that had taken you by surprise when he’d accepted the cookies from Lily as you sat there. The memory of it began stirring up those confusing feelings inside of you once more. He certainly hadn’t turned out to be what you’d expected, at least after that second interaction you’d now had with him. You found yourself wondering if Cora was right, maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Maybe you'd just caught him in a bad mood yesterday morning.

You saw him begin to turn and make his way towards the end of the counter where customers picked up their orders and your eyes immediately darted back down to your laptop. Ducking your head, you pretended you were intensely focused on your laptop screen, desperately hoping he hadn’t caught you staring at him. You’d already embarrassed yourself enough with him thanks to Lily pointing out that you’d called him the grumpy man from the coffee shop, you didn’t need him to catch you ogling him next. That would certainly make things even more embarrassing and uncomfortable at this point.

“Are you always here?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you froze in your chair. Hand curling tighter around the handle of your coffee mug, you felt your body tense at the sound of his voice clearly directed at you. Considering how uninterested he’d been in small talk just yesterday morning, you figured he’d grab his coffee in silence and leave. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d actually try to strike up a conversation with you, especially with him having a clear out because you obviously looked preoccupied at the table. He could’ve easily just grabbed his drink and left, ignoring you entirely.

Slowly your eyes shifted over towards Frank. He was leaning against the coffee shop counter, one of his elbows resting along it as his head cocked just a bit to the side, his eyes slightly narrowed as he studied you. One corner of his mouth was curled up just a fraction in something almost like a smile as he waited for you to respond. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore the frenzied beating of your heart at the sudden attention from him.

“Usually,” you answered. “Sort of comes with being the owner of the place.” 

Both of his dark brows rose marginally onto his forehead in something like surprise. You fought back the feeling of pride within you at his reaction. Though Frank quickly recovered, the look of surprise shifting into a smile that was almost as warm as the one you’d seen on his face last night when he was talking to Lily.

“Is that so?” he asked curiously. “You own this place?”

You shrugged lightly in response, your eyes catching sight of Allison’s head darting up from over his shoulder, staring at you from behind the counter. She was pouring the freshly brewed coffee for him into a to-go cup with a look of stunned disbelief on her face. 

“Nearest Starbucks is about twenty minutes from here,” you said, focusing back on Frank and trying to ignore Allison behind him as she began frantically mouthing things to you. “Besides grabbing a cup of coffee from one of the local fast food joints, there really aren’t many options around here. Figured the town could use a coffee shop, so I opened one.”

Frank nodded his head, his eyes still on you. They looked far more friendly than they had yesterday morning when he’d been sizing you up, that was for sure.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he replied. “Sorta the only place to go ‘round here for a good cup of coffee it seems.”

Unable to fight back a triumphant grin, it spread wide over your lips at his compliment. “Guess it just means you’re stuck with me while you’re here then,” you told him. When a brow curiously arched up onto his forehead at your comment, you quickly added on, “For coffee. Since there’s nowhere else to really grab a cup that doesn’t taste like burnt garbage in this town, I mean.”

Allison headed over to the counter with his cup of coffee in hand, setting it down onto the surface near where he was leaning. Her eyes were darting curiously back and forth between the pair of you now. 

Frank ducked his head, chuckling a little before he pushed off of the counter. “Guess your right,” he agreed. “Looks like we're both stuck with each other then.” 

He reached over, picking up his coffee from the counter while offering Allison a polite ‘thank you’ as he did. Her eyes grew wide when he’d turned back around to face you, her dumbstruck gaze focusing on his back. You had a feeling there were a plethora of questions already forming in her mind that you’d be hearing the moment he left. 

Frank nodded his head once towards you. “You have a good day now,” he said. “S’pose I’ll be seeing you again real soon, though.”

Something warm fluttered in your chest as he turned, making his way towards the coffee shop exit. As he walked, drawing his to-go cup up to his lips for a drink, your brain fumbled to form a coherent thought. You only briefly recovered just as he opened the door to the coffee shop.

“You too!” you called out.

He was out the door with a small grin on his mouth, turning and making his way down the sidewalk and away from your shop without a backwards glance. Your eyes followed the back of him as he went, your mind reeling at the emotional whiplash of interacting with him once more. He definitely wasn't what you'd initially expected and you had no idea what to make of that.

Allison’s fingers loudly snapping in front of your face broke you from your staring seconds later and you jumped in your chair. Eyes flying over towards her, you saw her standing beside your table.

“Spill,” she said immediately. “What the hell was that complete one-eighty about?”

“I–I don’t know,” you stammered, watching as Allison plopped into the chair across from you. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Well something must have happened,” she pressed, “because yesterday morning that man was all moody and rude, now today he's actually striking up small talk? Flirting with you?”

Cheeks heating, you focused back on your cup of coffee. You picked it up, bringing it up to your lips as you shook your head. “He wasn’t flirting, Ally,” you told her. “I think he was just being friendly.”

“Uh huh,” she said, waving the idea off with a dismissive hand. “So you must’ve run into him again since yesterday morning with the way he was talking to you. What happened? I want details.”

Drinking down some of your coffee, your eyes darted back down towards your laptop. You really needed to finish your taxes, but you had a feeling Allison wouldn't stop asking questions until you answered her. Figuring it'd just be easier to tell her about last night and move on, you released a soft sigh.

“You know that duplex next to mine that's been vacant for awhile?” you asked, lowering the mug to the table. “The one Cora has been struggling to fill?”

Allison nodded. “Yes, I remember,” she answered. “She said the other day she found a tenant when she’d come in for a coffee.”

You pointed a finger out the shop's window in the direction which Frank had walked off in. Though he'd since disappeared now, having turned a corner or gotten into his truck.

“That was him,” you told her. 

Allison’s eyes grew wide as she audibly gasped. “What?” she asked in surprise. “ That beautiful man is your neighbor?”

Laughing lightly, you nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s just him. Lily was with me when Cora was telling me about him moving in the other day, so she'd had this idea to bake him cookies to welcome him to the neighborhood.”

“She’s always such a sweet kid,” Allison mused aloud. 

“Mhmm,” you agreed. “Thing is, she wanted to make cookies like we did for Valentine’s Day. You remember those?”

Allison burst into a laugh, throwing a hand over her mouth as she quickly tried to stifle the noise. She didn’t succeed and you couldn't resist grinning and laughing a little yourself at the memory of your own shock at who'd opened the door to receive those cookies. 

“You mean to tell me,” Allison began, still trying to quell her laughter, “that you dropped off pretty heart cookies to that guy yesterday?”

“Yep,” you told her, still grinning. “They were pink and covered in sprinkles. Lily even insisted on using one of those Valentine’s Day plates for them. So of course I had to bring her over to deliver them with me because there was no way in hell I was going to do that alone.”

A snort of amusement left Allison before she bit her lip, shaking her head. You couldn't help laughing a little more yourself.

“You should have seen my face when it was him that opened the door,” you continued. “I was certain he was going to be an asshole. Throw the cookies on the ground or belittle Lily and I. But he was…surprisingly friendly. Even took a few minutes to talk to Lily and thank her for them. I practically had to drag her away before she could volunteer us to bake him cinnamon rolls next.”

Allison’s smile grew even wider, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sounds like someone is doing a little matchmaking,” she teased, shooting you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, glancing back down at your laptop. “She's four, Ally,” you pointed out. “She was just being friendly. Besides, he's my neighbor.”

“Which makes it even easier for him to pop over for late night booty calls,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Your eyes flew up over the screen of your laptop, landing on Ally as they widened. She laughed at the look on your face, rising up from her chair as the door to the shop opened once again. 

“That's bordering on very inappropriate work talk,” you quickly scolded her. “And that's the end of this topic of conversation, I think.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, a knowing smile on her lips as she made her way back towards the register. “Sure it is, boss.”

The moment the panicked cries met your ears, your eyes flew open and consciousness quickly returned to you. Pushing yourself up in your bed, you frantically began throwing the sheets off of yourself when you heard Lily’s distressed voice calling out for you in between the loud sobs that were coming from down the hall. It didn’t take Penny long to climb out of her dog bed at the noise, bolting out of the room before you’d barely managed to stand upright.

“I’m coming, Lily!” you called out to her.

Fighting back the fog of sleep you’d just abruptly woken from, you made your way out of your bedroom and crossed the few steps down the hall towards the room you’d long since turned into Lily’s for the night’s Jaime worked at the bar. Stepping into the room, you spotted her sitting up in her bed and clutching her stuffed husky version of Penny to her chest. The nightlight across the room cast her in a soft, pink glow as the real Penny sat beside her bed, her head resting along the mattress.

“Hey,” you greeted her softly, making your way over towards the edge of the bed to sit. “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

Lily nodded her head quickly as soft sobs continued to fall from her lips. You could see the damp tear streaks on her cheeks in the dim light, the sight twisting your heart in your chest. You hated ever seeing anything but a smile on her face. Opening your arms to her in offer of comfort, she immediately lunged forward across the bed and wrapped her small arms around you in a hug. You held her tight in return, rocking her gently against you.

“I’m sorry, coffee bean,” you whispered. “It was only a dream though. It wasn’t real and it can’t hurt you. And you've got Penny and I here with you.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered back, her little voice cracking from where her face was buried against your shoulder. “Don’t make me sleep, Nini, please?”

You sighed, eyelids slowly lowering as you continued to hold her against you. It must’ve been a real bad dream if she was saying that tonight. Often you wondered what her bad dreams were about when she had them, though you’d never pushed for an answer. Though by now you knew there was only one guaranteed way to get the bad dream out of her mind so she’d go back to sleep tonight and not keep you both awake all night long. You found yourself grateful that it wasn’t winter anymore.

“Do you want to go sit outside for a minute?” you asked her. “Look at the stars and calm down?”

She nodded her head against your shoulder, sniffling slightly. One of your hands lightly patted her back.

“Alright, let’s go grab our coats and shoes,” you said. 

Reluctantly she released you, though one of her little hands quickly found yours while the other still gripped her stuffed husky. Both of you slid off of the bed and made your way out of the room and down the short hallway towards the stairs. Penny dutifully followed along after the pair of you.

There was a few minutes of silence as you and Lily slipped your shoes and coats on in the front entryway of the living room before you both made your way through the kitchen and over towards the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. As you unlocked the door, your gaze landed over on Penny who was now wagging her tail behind you, excited about the prospect of going outside. 

“Uh uh,” you told her, shaking your head. “You slipped your collar a couple of nights ago and I don’t feel like chasing after you around the whole neighborhood at two in the morning. So you’re staying inside.”

Penny grumbled back at you, swinging her head around in a circle in her husky equivalent of an eye roll. You figured she was probably upset at hearing the word ‘stay’ mixed into what you’d said. But you shook your head again at her, too tired to even want to think about her slipping her collar and sneaking her way out of the old and worn wooden fence that surrounded the yard right now. 

“All your own doing, girl,” you told her. “Don’t like it? Stop sneaking out of the yard and making me chase after you. Until then, you stay put.”

With another irritated and prolonged grumble, Penny slowly lowered herself down onto the kitchen floor. Lily giggled lightly at your stubborn dog as you focused back on the door, pulling it open and stepping outside with her hand once more holding onto yours. Though as you both stepped out onto the patio, you quickly noticed you weren’t alone in the backyard. 

On the small neighboring patio next to yours, you spotted Frank sitting in one of the patio chairs with his legs kicked out before him, his solemn gaze fixed up above on the night sky, one of his hands absently running across his mouth. But he quickly snapped out of his thoughts seconds later when he registered the sound of your back door having slid open. His head turned over his shoulder towards the pair of you where you’d stopped frozen in your tracks.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, uncertain of what else to say. “I didn’t see you out here, we didn’t mean to bother you.”

Frank’s eyes dropped down onto Lily beside you, her hand still holding tight to yours while the other clutched her stuffed husky to her chest. You noticed the way his gaze softened instantly when he’d focused on her, probably noticing her red puffy eyes from having just been crying. 

“‘S’alright,” he replied, his gaze sliding back up to you. “Not just my backyard.”

Drawing his feet in towards himself, he began to rise out of his chair. You winced, feeling bad for practically kicking him out of the space he’d been in first. But he’d barely risen to his feet before the sound of Lily’s voice stopped him.

“I had a bad dream,” she said softly. “Do you get bad dreams, Frank?”

Frank froze halfway out of his chair, a muscle twitching in his cheek as the moonlight above illuminated his face. Your brows knitted faintly together as you watched his entire body tense at her question. Gradually his attention fixed back onto your niece, his eyes a confusing mix of emotions that your tired brain couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I do.”

Something about the heavy tone in which he’d answered her had caught your attention. His words felt like a loaded answer, one with more meaning behind it that you found yourself curious about. What sort of bad dreams did he have? Were they the reason for the often gruff exterior he seemed to exude? Was it anything to do with why he was here by himself?

Though of course, you weren’t remotely about to ask him a single one of those questions.

Lily dropped your hand, her arms both holding the stuffed dog to her chest in a hug as she crossed the small distance over to Frank's patio. You frowned, shoulders sagging at her once more being the four year old she was who couldn't help inserting herself somewhere she shouldn't be.

“Lily, please don't–”

“What makes you feel better after a bad dream?” Lily asked Frank, cutting you off as if you hadn't even begun to reprimand her. “I go outside with Nini. The stars are pretty to look at.”

You shot Frank an apologetic smile before focusing back on your niece. Taking a step forward, you reached a hand out in an attempt to direct her back into your side of the yard. “Lily,” you began again, “you can't just go barging into his yard and asking him personal questions. That's not polite, coffee bean. Especially not at two in the morning.”

Frank glanced up at you, shaking his head lightly. “It's alright,” he assured you. “She’s not bothering me. The opposite, actually.” 

Taken aback by his response, once again considering the hour and your niece’s intrusive question, you were surprised to see Frank settle back down into his chair. There was a small smile on his face as he rested his fidgeting hands in his lap, his attention returning to your niece as Lily continued over onto his patio, climbing up onto the patio chair beside his as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Standing with the toes of your shoes in the grass just before his patio and at the edge of your yard, you weren’t even sure how to react at this point.

“I like to look at the stars sometimes, too,” he told Lily. “Sometimes they’re calming for me. Other times I might read a book.”

Lily smiled, her little legs not quite reaching the ground from where she sat in the chair absently petting her stuffed dog. “I like when Nini reads me books. She does good voices,” she told him.

Frank’s attention briefly shifted over to where you were standing, something still indecipherable written on his face. Despite the slight chill of the spring night, you felt something warm creep up your neck and flood your cheeks. Nervously you wrapped your arms over your chest, the weight of his gaze once more drawing forth some confusing feelings inside of you.

“Does she now?” Frank mused.

“Mhmm,” Lily replied, beginning to swing her legs back and forth. “I like when she reads the monkey book.”

Frank’s mouth twisted into a sad smile, his gaze dropping down towards his booted feet that had begun toeing the pavement beneath them. Your brows pulled together a bit, a crease forming between them as you noted the slight shift in his mood. He was quiet for a moment before you heard him speak again.

“Used to read One Batch, Two Batch to my daughter every night,” he murmured. “Was her favorite book. Sometimes that’s what she wanted me to read when she had bad dreams.”

“Nini reads that book to me all the time!” Lily exclaimed, excitedly sitting forward in her chair. “That’s where Penny got her name!”

“Is it now?” Frank asked, glancing up at her. 

Even from his profile you could tell the look on Frank’s face hinted at something more hidden behind what he’d said. His use of past tense hadn’t gone unnoticed even to your tired ears, either. You could practically feel a sadness exuding from him where he sat in the chair, chuckling softly as Lily bounced up and down in her seat telling him about how she’d helped you name your husky when you’d adopted her not too long ago. But as she continued to enthusiastically tell the story, you could tell that sadness never seemed to fade from his expression.

“Hey, Lil?” you said, cutting in when you found an opportunity. 

She paused in the middle of her storytelling, the pair of them focusing on you where you still stood at the edge of your yard. You knew if you didn’t stop her now, she’d probably sit there talking to Frank until the sun came up, and while it oddly looked as if he almost wouldn’t mind that, you definitely felt it was time to usher her back inside to bed before she’d be too awake to fall back asleep with how excited she'd already become.

“Maybe we should tell Frank goodnight and head back inside?” you suggested. “It’s late and I’m sure he needs to get to sleep at some point, too. Besides, I’m dropping you off at your dad’s in the morning and I think you’ll want to be rested to spend the day with him, right?”

The excitement quickly fell from Lily’s face and you fought the ache in your chest at the sight. It had been great seeing her happy after how you’d just found her in her room, but you really did need to get some sleep and so did she. If she continued on talking to Frank like this you knew she'd be wide awake talking for the next hour.

“How about I let you bring Penny’s bed into your room for the rest of the night, hmm?” you offered. “Let her sleep in there with you, too?”

The smile immediately returned to her face as she scooted off the patio chair. “Really?” she asked, hopping up and down on her feet. “She can stay with me tonight?”

You nodded, barely getting an affirmative out before Lily was darting past you back towards your sliding door and calling ‘goodnight’ out loudly to Frank as she went. She was back inside your place and darting presumably up to your room to get the dog bed with Penny bounding along behind her in no time. 

Frank’s soft chuckle drew your attention back towards him. Your arms were still hugging your chest as you sent him yet another apologetic smile.

“Sorry for interrupting your evening,” you told him, gesturing your head towards the direction Lily had disappeared. “She’s not very shy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Doesn’t quite understand when she's being rude instead of friendly.”

Frank’s hand ran across his mouth as he shook his head, a glimmer of something in his eyes as he looked up at you. Your stomach fluttered nervously at the realization of just how alone you currently were with him.

“Seems like a real good kid,” he told you. 

“Yeah,” you said, smiling fondly. “She is.” Clearing your throat, you took a step backwards, aware that you needed to get back inside. “Sorry for bothering you, though. I’ll uh, leave you to it.”

Turning around, you made your way back towards your side of the duplex. Once again you’d found that Frank had surprised you with how sweet he was with your niece, though learning he had a daughter certainly seemed to explain that away. You wondered if he and his wife had recently separated or divorced and that was why he was out here looking so melancholic.

Just as your hand grabbed onto the handle of your sliding door, pulling it open, you heard Frank’s voice from behind you. You paused there on the patio at the sound of it.

“You’re good with her,” he called out.

Biting back the smile on your face, you glanced back over your shoulder at him.

“Could say the same about you,” you called back.

He let out an amused huff, ducking his head almost bashfully at your compliment. That smile was further threatening to take over your face as you heard Lily loudly talking to Penny upstairs inside your duplex.

“Goodnight, Frank.”

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes, his head still partially ducked down. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he nodded back at you once.

“G’night,” he replied.

Stepping back into your place, you found yourself smiling to yourself as you shut and locked the sliding door behind you. As you began to slip off your coat and shoes in the kitchen, you wondered if maybe having him as a neighbor wouldn’t be half as bad as you’d first thought.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

IM ON HERE TO CELEBRATE YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS 🎉🎉🎉 WOOOOT!

Can I pretty please request Jax Teller for prompt #14!?

Thank you!!!!!

Masterlist

Insomnia

Contains: Very mild angst, fluff.

1.2K words

“My eyelids are heavy, but my thoughts are heavier.” - Unknown

You couldn't begin to express how grateful the late nights were less late now that the club was out of guns and drugs. The only downside was that Jax and the rest of the Sons were now just mechanics, they had cars to fix and taxes to file, not meeting deadlines meant parts didn't get bought and paychecks weren't written.

Anxiety still lingered when Jax was away at night, a hold off from the worry that the next phone call would deliver the worst news one could get. Tonight was one of those nights, even though you knew Jax was safe, your brain wouldn't quiet.

The sound of a door opening drew you from your thoughts, "What are you still doing up? It's almost one."

You shrugged, "The usual. I can't sleep when your side of the bed is cold. Your dinner is in the microwave."

Jax gave you a soft smile, "Lucky me because I'm starving. Sit with me while I eat?"

You nodded, "That's my plan." Jax hurried to the kitchen and warmed his dinner before sitting next to you at the dining table, "Did you get all your work done?" 

"You bet, and I've got the whole weekend off so we can sleep in." You could smell the faint hint of oil on his clothes. 

"That's great news, you know how much I love our lazy mornings." If you were lucky, Abel would be there too, between you and Jax. 

"You and me both darlin. How was work?" He must have been hungry, half the food was already gone. 

"The usual." You yawned and Jax reached across the table to hold your hand, "I'm sorry, I guess I was just waiting for you to get home." 

Jax shook his head, "I'm almost done here. I'll hop into the shower then I'll be all yours." 

You sighed, "That sounds perfect." 

"How did Abel go at daycare today?" Jax loved all the pictures Abel drew for him, his locker, his office and his workstation were full of them. 

You smiled, "He had lots of fun today, they got a new water table and he went wild. I had to throw his tiny little shoes in the wash, that's how much fun he had." 

Jax chuckled, "I'll pick him up on Monday, I can't have you having all the fun darlin." 

"Sure, he loves it when you go and get him." You went to take Jax's empty plate from him, but he yanked it away. 

"I'll do that darlin." He rushed it to the sink before drying it and putting it away. Once that was done and he had wiped over the kitchen one last time, he walked back over to you and stretched out his hand, "Shall we?" 

You nodded and took his hand, "We shall." 

The trip to the bedroom was quick, and then Jax was stripping off and hopping into the shower, "You wanna get ready for bed darlin?"

You sighed, "I guess I better try and keep a routine, brushing my teeth and washing my face again won't hurt." 

Steam filled the room as Jax washed the day away and smirked when he caught you staring at him through the shower glass, "See something you like darlin?" 

You nodded, "You know I do Teller." 

The shower flicked off and he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist before stopping by the kiss you on the cheek on his way to the bedroom to get dressed. 

With his comfortable grey sweatpants on, he headed to the bed and flicked the heated blanket on your side before fluffing your pillow and peeling back the covers, "Hop in darlin." 

You took your robe off and placed it on the chair, leaving you in just one of Jax's T-Shirts and a pair of panties, then climbed into bed with a sigh, "It's so much better with you here. Maybe we should get a cat so when you're not here, I'm not alone in bed." 

Jax smiled, "I like that idea, we've got the room and it will be good for Abel to have a pet." 

You reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of the lavender lotion but before you could do anything, Jax took it from you, "Let me?" 

You nodded, "I'd like that." 

He started with your arms, rubbing the smooth cream in with broad, firm strokes, "What do we need for a cat? Food, water fountains, a few litter trays and toys. Hell, with Happy's help, we can have one by Monday." 

He pinched your shirt and you pulled it over your head so he could do your shoulders next, "We need a bit more time than that. The kitty should have a catio, that will keep you busy over a few weekends and once that's build and the cat can enjoy the outdoors without killing anything we can get the kitty." 

The corner of Jax's mouth ticked up as he moved to your chest and a thought came over him, "We can tell Abel can't we? He'll want to help." 

Your eye grew heavy as you spun and his hands moved over your back, "Sure we can tell Abel. He'll want to name the kitten and he should come when we pick. Not that it means anything, the cat will pick us." 

You returned to facing him and Jax moved to your legs, rubbing the ache out of your claves, "You've already said you'll let the cat on the bed so I only have one rule, he or she has to stay away from my kutte." 

You chuckled, "You and I both know that's not going to happen, cats do what cats want." 

Jax sighed and placed the bottle back in its spot before picking your book up, "I guess so. How are you feeling now darlin?" 

You smiled, "Great, I'm ready to call it a night." You slid all the way into bed and placed your head on the pillow, "Will you read to me, I love the sound of your voice." 

Jax looked over you fondly, "Of course, darlin, that was my plan when I picked up your book." You had been reading it to him for days, a sweet tale of a little robot in search of life on Mars who made friends with an alien. 

"Rusty lifted his little arm and ticked as he handed the apple slice to his friend, 'Apples are one of human's favourite fruits, you should try some.' The alien took the slice from him with a squeak and ate it in one bite, then gave another squeak of approval at the sweet taste." 

You snuggled closer to Jax and he wrapped his arm around your body, "The Alien squeaked again, then waved its arms before pointing to itself and then to Rusty. The series of squeaks that followed sounded like the robot's name and then another which must have been its own." 

Your eyes felt so heavy as Jax continued, "It made sense when Rusty heard it for a second time, 'Your name is Eldredth? Tell me Eldredth, have you ever had chocolate? It is the best of the human's treats." 

Jax smiled as he felt your chest rise and fall softly under his arm. He put the book and laid down next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the blanket up to your neck, "Good night Darlin, I love you." 

Fin

[neil-gaiman]

Is it really ”The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke”? What’s a feller? Internet says the title is written on the back of Dadd’s painting but won’t show pics. Wouldn’t a fairy teller be more of a thing? Asking you as a fairy tale teller.

He's a feller -- someone who fells trees and such with his mighty axe, and who is about to split a chestnut.

Dadd wrote a poem about the painting, called Elimination of a Picture & its subject--called The Feller's Master Stroke, in which he describes all the people and creatures you can see in it. Of the Feller he says,

fay woodman holds aloft the axe Whose double edge virtue now they tax To do it singly & make single double Featly & neatly--equal without trouble.

(He was a remarkable painter. Not so much of a poet.)

Freddie Mercury was inspired by the painting and also by the poem (how did he get hold of the poem? Even Roger Taylor seems baffled) and wrote the Fairy Feller's Master Stroke song.

[mewtillidae]

theyve probably mentioned it before and i just completely forgot but what did Frost even Do when they ran the carnival. my headcanon was that he was a semi-truthful crystal ball type fortune teller. i also figured maybe he just did their taxes but then i remembered those chucklefucks are criminals and dont do taxes. maybe he just followed Gricko there off the streets and Gricko begged Kremy to let them keep him. Kremy swore he wouldn't get attatched but the big eyes and propensity for crushing minds won him over

[slaymitchabernathy]

Keeping Track

Coriolanus drags his finger to the bottom of the page that sits in front of him. The page that bores every single thing he has to pay for this month.

Because today is the last day of the month.

And on the last day of the month, bills are sent out and taxes are to be collected. So every month, Coriolanus tallies up all the expenses that he and his family have racked up.

There are obvious expenses, such as rent for their penthouse apartment, the water bill, the heating bill and the electric bill. Other things such as paying their staff are also to be expected. They also have a gardener who tends to the roses on the penthouse roof.

Other things like doctors visits, trips to the groomer for Petunia, and school fundraisers are also listed and ticked off the list.

But then the fun begins. Coriolanus gets the immense pleasure of going over every single thing his wife has purchased over the month. Had he not gone through the struggles of poverty after the war, he’s sure that he’d throw all caution to the wind and simply pay for everything without double checking. But because he knows what it’s like to be scrapping for coins to make his payments, he goes over every little thing.

No matter how tedious.

He stares down at the page that was sent in the mail, at the number listed at the very bottom, written in black ink is the total amount of money the Snow family owes.

And it’s a bit higher than usual.

A soft knock on the door to his study causes him to snap back into reality and he grunts, “Come in.”

The heavy wooden door swings open and he looks up to see his wife dressed in a very beautiful looking nightgown.

This one is white, silk with lace detailing.

Her hair is parted down the middle, cascading down her back and he can smell the vanilla from here.

“Must we go over this every month?” Soarynn asks with a sigh, closing the door behind her.

Coriolanus grins, “It’s a necessary evil darling. Are the children asleep?”

Soarynn nods, brushing her hair behind her ears, “They are. But I thought of a different way we might spend our evening instead of going over these dreadful expenses.”

Coriolanus leans back in his chair, spreading out his legs, “I’m all ears.”

Soarynn looks him up and down, her eyes lingering below his belt for a little too long to be mistaken as innocent. Over the years he’s learned that his wife had a certain fire that burns inside of her. And he loves to watch it roar to life in the bedroom.

“I thought you might come to bed,” she says, her voice breathy and seductive. She’s practically eye fucking him. Coriolanus chuckles and shakes his head, “Nice try. We have to go over these things my love. Now have a seat so we can get started.”

Soarynn frowns, looking over at the armchair that sits across from him on the other side of his desk, “I can’t sit with you?”

Normally Coriolanus would feel like a fool to deny her of such a thing. To make her sit anywhere but his lap is a mistake. But he’ll be a bigger fool if he allowed her to wiggle under his skin tonight in hopes of distracting him. He’s got to stay strong.

“No because then you’ll try to seduce me,” he nods at her risqué outfit, “I assure you that the seat I have offered is very comfortable.”

Soarynn scoffs but makes her way to the other side of the desk, sitting down with a huff while crossing her arms, “Let’s get this over with.”

“A wonderful idea darling.”

Coriolanus pulls out one of his many little notebooks he keeps for things like this and opens it to the most recent entry where he’s kept thorough track of every purchase made this month. Not that he doesn’t trust the Capitol records to be correct, but he feels much better about making his payments if he also keeps a record.

So every month, he pays a visit to the bank and walks up to the teller who hands over the Snow family’s bank statement.

Also known as the bane of Soarynn’s existence.

His darling wife loves to spend his money and he loves to watch her do it, but forcing her to take part in this little monthly ritual keeps her in line, keeps her reminded of who really pays the bills and pulls the strings.

He doesn’t think she’d ever run him dry, but this monthly overview is always a good way to keep her on her toes.

“Let’s see, our grocery bill was higher than usual.”

“Well, we hosted three dinner parties this month so that’s to be expected.”

Coriolanus nods, checking it off his list.

“We wrote a check to the Academy on the fourteenth, what did we buy this time?”

He looks up to find Soarynn actually in deep thought for once, trying to remember what she paid for.

“We bought the girls new skirts,” she says, “Ceraphina outgrew her old ones and Celeste…”

“Needs to be just like her big sister,” he finishes her sentence, marking it off. His youngest daughter Celeste has a habit of always wanting to be included, a trait Soarynn claims he gave to her. So when her big sister gets something, she gets something too.

“I see several large purchases at various departments stores,” he reads, cross checking with the bank statement to confirm, “one of the stores being a lingerie boutique.”

Soarynn gives him a smug look, “Well you have a habit of ripping my panties off of me, so I have to restock every once in a while.”

Coriolanus swallows, his eyes traveling down to her breasts for a moment before nodding, “Well let’s keep it to ‘every once in a while’ then shall we?”

Soarynn hums and gives him a look that means no good but he’s got to get through this list before she jumps him.

“I see that you also did some back to school shopping for the children,” he notes, “which is funny since they wear uniforms.”

Soarynn raises her eyebrows, rarely does he ever push back on purchases made for the children but this is a bit much since two of their three children attend school five days a week and wear the mandatory uniforms.

“The children should feel confident when they go to school. And the girls need things like shoes, bows for their hair, jewelry. Maybe you don’t understand it since you’re a man.”

Coriolanus scoffs and gives her a look, “I think you’re pushing it a bit.”

“I think you’re pushing me a bit,” she shoots back.

It’s a stand off but Coriolanus always wins. Soarynn can be feisty when she wants to be, but she’ll always be the more submissive one in the relationship, keeping the peace.

“As the head of this household, I’m allowed to push you once in a blue moon,” he reminds her. Coriolanus has worked hard to ensure that his wife and children have only known a life of luxury. He wakes up far too early and comes home far too late to be given this type of attitude.

Soarynn sits back in her chair, her stare lethal but her body langue relaxed, “What’s next on your little list?” She can make fun of his list all she wants, but Coriolanus knows how vital it is to make sure they stay afloat.

“Let’s see, oh, more of your expenses. Imagine my surprise. You made a large purchase from your dress maker on the twentieth, or did she just punch in the numbers incorrectly?”

Soarynn tilts her head, a more placid expression now on her face, “She didn’t mess up the numbers,” she says sweetly, “but you told me to get myself some new dresses for the upcoming season, remember darling?”

His words get stuck in his throat for a moment, “Yes I do. Good to see it all worked out.”

Coriolanus scans the rest of his list, the rest of the expenses being from things he bought and he sure as hell isn’t going to bring those up.

Coriolanus closes his book, tossing it back into the drawer he fished it out from, “There. We’re already done. Was that so hard?”

Soarynn nods, “Yes. Yes it was. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nice, long shower.”

Coriolanus watches her stand up slowly, her dress riding up her thighs for a moment, letting him see that she’s not wearing any panties that little tease.

“Have fun with your paperwork,” she purrs while crossing the room, smirking at his slacked jaw when she opens the door.

Coriolanus keeps track of many things in his life. His work load. The children’s school schedule. His family’s expenses.

But his favorite thing to keep track of?

How many fucking orgasms he can give his wife.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[silverskye13]

Hello! I'm one of your readers and admirers, been sending asks before too - it's just the topic makes me self-conscious.

You're writing very long and articulated things, with intricate details, and you're pretty darn good at it - so I believe you can give advice here. Do you ever feel discomfort/anxiety about writing long works in form like "it will take me ages to do it, and if I can't finish it will haunt me forever"? Do you have any methods of fighting it?

Oh hmm. Well! I used to have those anxieties yes. I haven't had them for a while. My method of fighting it is less of a fight, and more of a,,, change in perspective I suppose.

So, I don't go into any project assuming I will finish it.

Now, important note: I go into every project wanting to finish it. Most things I work on, especially long form things, have a finish line. I know generally how I want the story to go, and why, and I go into it knowing that it will change and evolve as the project continues. The finish line might get farther away, or rarely, closer, if I cut things down.

But I've stopped assuming something I start will ever get done.

This does a few things for me. Firstly, it takes away the guilt of "but if I don't finish! I won't be able to live with myself!" My goal was never to finish, so there is no guilt attached to not finishing.

[Well, that's a lie. I do feel a little guilty about unfinished projects, but it's "I should get back around to that someday" guilt, and not "this is a personal failing that is indicative of my character" guilt.]

The other thing that not starting a project purely to finish it does, is it recontextualizes your goals and rewards. The good feelings you get from working on the project, and making your shorter term goals, becomes the motivation to keep working on it, as opposed to a much farther away and more ephemeral end goal of "done someday."

If you have already made the goal of "done someday" on a long term project, and you have pinned your sense of success to it, the best advice I personally can give, is to unpin your sense of success from that far away point. That point might be years away, and while some people can definitely wait years for payoff, I, personally, can't. I need something closer and smaller. Otherwise I get worn down and tired, because I am slogging on something very emotionally taxing that isn't paying me back in any way. Why would I do that? That's very rude to myself! We don't suffer for art around here!

I would recommend instead, picking a closer point. If you're writing a long fic, pick a scene you really want to reach. [I pick several. If you ever hear me ramble about "story arcs" it's a product of this.] If you're making a comic, pick a scene, chapter/page number, or character introduction you're excited for. If you're making a video game, pick several programming or story milestones, etc.

Base your success on reaching those milestones. You will get your dopamine rush from Doing The Thing. Congratulate yourself! Bask in it! Celebrate the small milestone the same way you would the finish line. Buy a favorite treat, take the weekend off to rest, gush about it to your friends. It might feel silly the first few times you do it. That's fine! You're training your brain to appreciate milestones. Your brain will figure out what you're doing and get with the program.

Aside from milestone goals, I think it's also good to remember, a project is never abandoned if you don't want it to be? Like, really embrace that idea. Unless some fortune teller has divined the exact date and time of your death, for all you know, you have ten, twenty, hell, fifty years to finish your project. Long Term Project has no end date [unless you are professionally publishing something with a company, in which case, you have negotiated your end date with a client.] You can say "I'm tired of this for now", drop it and come back later. You aren't a failure for needing a break -- even if that break spans years, and you pick up 3 more long term projects in between. I have been working on a webcomic for 3 years now. It has 30 pages, and I take 6 months breaks in between working on it. I don't see that as a personal failing.

I don't know, I feel like this is getting a bit incoherent. Long story short: most people's anxieties about long term projects [and their ability to finish them] have to do with being deeply unkind to themselves, I feel. You aren't a publishing house. You aren't a TV show producer. You aren't a film director. You are one person, working on something potentially massive. Recognize that will take time. Recognize taking your time isn't a bad thing. Recognize you might need to take breaks -- long ones. Recognize that you need sustaining goals that are small yes, smaller than finishing, but also deeply, deeply important. And also recognize if you can't finish your long term project? That's not a moral failing. You're allowed to walk down the road with an idea, love it to bits, and then change enough as a person through the process, that it no longer serves you. And then you can drop it.

Do not make the end goal of a long project your finish line. If you do, every project you don't finish is a disappointment. Make finishing the project the happy accident that came from working on it long enough.

[defilerwyrm]

Oh, Alcohol.

Barenaked Ladies saved me from a life (and possibly death) as an alcoholic.

Let me explain:

My first official, tax-paying job as as a mutuel teller at a horse track in the mid aughts. I worked for $8.15/hour most of the year and during live season (when races were taking place at my track) they bumped it up to $8.50. During live race nights, I could easily pull in $100 in tips in a night.

You would have thought that a nearly-homeless college dropout trapped in a relationship he didn’t yet fully realize was extremely abusive would have squirreled that away to make a better life for himself, but no. My coworkers (including The Ex From Hell) liked to go drinking at the restaurant/bar across the highway from the track after live race nights—twice a week—and I, being starved for company and having TEFH as my only ride home, went with them.

It was always a jolly old time. I drank so many mudslides & flying grasshoppers and ate so many mozzarella sticks you wouldn’t believe. My regular bartender and I (and that phrase should set off alarm bells in your head already) developed a new drink! It’s still one of my favorites. Here, let me share it with you:

AQUA VELVET 2 parts blue curaçao 2 parts Midori (melon liqueur) 1 part pineapple juice spritz of Sprite Shake with ice, strain, serve cold in a hurricane glass.

Fucking incredible drink.

But yeah. I drank pretty heavily every night we went out. Drank until I got loose and loopy and extremely homosexual. Drank until I didn’t care about the dysphoria I was trying to ignore and the mental illness & traumas I couldn’t afford to get help for. Until, for just a few hours, I was happy.

And then one night as “Closing Time” by Semisonic played on the speaker system and I received my solo bill, I really looked at it and realized I’d spent literally all of my tip money for that day’s work. I spent over $100 on alcohol in one sitting—in 2007 or 2008 money, on an $8.50/hour wage. Moreover, I’d drank over a hundred dollars worth of booze specifically for the goal of getting drunk and staying that way.

As a sidebar, one of the many things wrong with me is moderate/severe OCD. My most intrusive symptom is endomusia—music stuck in my head…every…waking…moment. As in, I can tell when I’ve woken up because that’s when the music starts. (In a fascinating twist, my father and brother both suffer this, too.) Any little thing that I see or hear or think about could set off a new song playing on repeat in my head.

And in that moment, looking at that staggering total on my receipt for the night, I heard Barenaked Ladies jamming their way through a syncopated bridge:

I thought that drinking just to get drunk was a waste of precious booze

Had it not been for that song, I would not have known that drinking to get drunk on a regular basis was a classic sign of alcoholism. But because I knew and loved that song, and because I had that moment of crystalline clarity at something like one in the morning, I realized that I had a fucking problem and I needed to stop.

I am immeasurably lucky that I came to this realization before my alcoholism developed into an actual dependency instead just of a deeply stupid bad habit I did for fun twice a week. I don’t take for granted that it could have been the end of me if not for that single moment. As much horrific shit as has happened to me in my life, holy fuck have I ever gotten some lucky breaks.

I don’t drink much nowadays, and haven’t for almost a decade. I don’t really like how it makes me feel most of the time. I just finished a top shelf margarita before writing this, in the safety of my own home, and it’s—I think the second alcoholic drink I’ve had this year.

So yeah. Music saves lives, y’all.

[wolfiafuntime]

About The Cultists II

How some members of the Temple of Liyue joined the cult, what they do at the cult, and where they went when they were told to leave.

Ft. Baizhu, Beidou, Childe, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Paimon, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin, Zhongli, and LORE

Tw: Cults, kids being in cults, physical abuse, neglect, violence, degredation(?), and Zhongli before his Yandere Era

Published: September 4, 2023

Words: 1,860 (1,817 w/o the names)

Pages: 5.6 (5.3 w/o the names)

Baizhu Bubu: Was introduced to the cult while searching for his missing daughter, and joined them shortly after discovering they saved her life. Spends his time performing check-ups on his fellow members, and if any medicine is required, then he'll give it to them at a seventy-five percent discount. Often lets his snake, Changsheng, wander about the Temple of Liyue. When told to move, he got a two-bedroom apartment for him and Qiqi, which is not only near his job, but also near a park. Currently owns and works as the sole doctor of the Bubu clinic, and is also the owner of the Bubu Pharmacy across the street.

Beidou Crux: Was introduced to the cult by Ningguang and Ganyu after her seventh time going to court, and joined shortly after losing her boating license. She spent a lot of time getting back on her feet, and mainly contributed by fishing up food for her fellow Believers. Eventually, she got her boating license back, started working on a shipping boat named the SS Alcor, and quickly climbed her way up to captain. She spends most of her time on that boat, and because of that, she's allowed to stay in the Temple of Liyue when she's in Teyvat City. Still gets in legal trouble, but oddly, her punishments are far lighter now...

'Childe Stutter': Was introduced to the cult when his team was instructed to investigate it. Originally infiltrated through a contact in the Church of Sneznhaya, and while his teammates were there, he slowly started to be swayed by the cult's beliefs. Thankfully, just as he realized this, his team leader decided to disperse the team throughout the different compounds, and he was sent to the Temple of Liyue. Currently works as a bank teller for a company named Northland Bank. After being told to get his own place, he got a house a few blocks away from Zhongli's new house.

Chongyun Yang: Was introduced to the cult through his Aunt Shenhe, but didn't join until he decided to run away from his abusive family. Spends his time trying to spread the word of Their Grace, which he mostly does by bringing peace to someplace or another. Never moved out of the Temple due to his age.

Ganyu Qilin: Was introduced to the cult by Rex Lapis himself during her college years, and joined shortly after mother did. Spends her time organizing various things, like food orders, taxes, and events, for not only the Temple of Liyue, but most of the other compounds as well. After her mother was turned into an Adeptus, she gained the title of 'Half-Adeptus'. Works as a secretary for the Keqing Yuheng at a city and urban planning company named Yuehai Industries. Due to her half-human status, she was not allowed to stay on the compound, so she moved into an apartment between her job and the Temple.

Hu Tao Wangsheng: Was introduced to the cult by Baizhu, but didn't join until after losing her grandfather. Spends her time trying to convince her fellow members to die, so they can finally meet Their Grace, planning how to convince, or just playing pranks on them. Also spends her time trying to get grieving families to join the cult. Works as the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. When she was told to move out, she got a suburbian house in between her job and the Temple.

Keqing Yuheng: Was introduced to the cult by Ganyu, and only joined because Ganyu did. At first spent her time trying to subtly convince Ganyu to leave the cult with her, but similarly to Childe, has come to believe in Them. Still dislikes Visions, though, unlike her opinions of Their Grace, she has been open about this from the start. Spends her time training the teens and children of the cult with various physical exercises. Currently works as the CEO of an urban and city planning company named Yuehai Industries. Currently lives next to Ganyu.

Ningguang Tianquan: Was introduced to the cult by Rex Lapis himself during her college years, and joined when he convinced her it would help her with her money troubles. After joining the cult, she dedicated all of her time to it. And after learning that Rex Lapis was looking for representatives for his children, she tried her hardest to become one of them. But bittersweetly, was only rewarded the position of High Priestess. As the High Priestess of the Temple, she did not have to leave and get her own place, so she didn't. She currently works as a Judge at the Jade Courthouse.

Payton Paimon Via: Was introduced to the cult by her Aunt Lumine, just minutes before she moved into the Church of Mondstadt. Has spent five years there, but has yet to recieve a vision, due to the elders not knowing what Vision to give her. Is currently moving from compound to compound with her dad.

Qiqi Bubu: Was saved by a Temple of Liyue sub-faction named The Adepti, but didn't join until a few months later when she was reunited with her father Baizhu, partially due to the severity of the injuries she suffered. Spends a lot of her time either around the other children, physically exorcising to improve her bodily function, or mentally exercising to improve her short-term memory. Currently lives in an apartment in Teyvat City with her dad.

Shenhe Yin: Was saved by Cloud Retainer, a member of the Temple of Liyue's Adepti sub-faction, when she was a teen. Spends her time training to become an Adepti- a task that, when accomplished, will make her the first non-original member of the cult to gain such a rank. Because she's no longer a teen and not yet an Adepti, when Rex Lapis told everyone to find there own homes, she was forbidden from living in The Temple of Liyue or the Adeptal Domain. She was only permitted a few months to get a job- and she eventually found one as a Medium. Currently lives in a studio apartment in Teyvat City.

Xiangling Wanmin: Was introduced to the cult by Beidou, who talked her into joining over the course of a few months. Spends most of her time either cooking for the cult, coming up with new things to cook for them, or foraging and/or hunting for ingredients. Also spends a lot of time with a baby bear with downsyndrome that she adopted and named Guoba. Was forced to leave him with the cult when she had to move out. Currently lives with Xinyan and Yun Jin in an apartment nearby her job, Wanmin Restaurant, which she's the Restauranteur of.

Xiao Wangshuu: Was introduced to the cult by Rex Lapis during his teen years, and joined to escape his abusive father. His fighting prowess got him rewarded the title of Adeptus, and later got him the title of Yaksha- a council of five meant to lead the Adeptus. Sadly, the his fellow members were driven mad and murdered each other, and one of them mysteriously disappeared. As an Adeptus, he's one of the few to know Rex Lapis is safe and healthy. Also as an Adeptus, he was permitted to stay on the original compound chosen for The Creator's Grace, which has now been renamed to the Adeptal Domain. Although he doesn't; opting to spend his nights in a treehouse hidden nearby the Temple of Liyue.

Xingqiu Feiyun: Was introduced to the cult by Chongyun. And not wanting his friend to be living alone with strangers, he half-lied to, half-talked his parents into letting him follow his friend. But quickly fell in love with the dedicated yet simple people of the compound, and soon started to believe in Their Grace. Spends a lot of his time reading, or hanging out with the other teens and kids. Due to his age, he never had to move out of the Temple of Liyue.

Xinyan Rock: Was introduced to the cult by her friend Xiangling, but didn't join until Xiangling convinced her it would ease the numerous troubles in her life. Spends her time making or playing music for her fellow Worshippers. Currently works as a musician on YouTube and Twitch, and makes her money by streaming concerts. Currently lives in an apartment building together with Xiangling and Yun Jin.

Yanfei Xiezhi: Was introduced to the cult by her father, but didn't join until after she befriended Eula from the Church of Mondstadt. Almost joined the Church of Mondstadt, too, until she learned of the unfair rules in the Temple of Liyue. That, combined with her father being a member there, convinced her to change courses, so she could, at the very least, advise her fellow Believers on what to do. Currently works as a legal adviser for Xiezhi & Kuki General Law Firm, and currently lives in an apartment with her friend Eula, and Eula's friend Amber.

Yaoyao Rambler: Is the second child to be born into the cult, and the first one to be born with Adeptus blood, due to her mother being Streetward Rambler. Recently got her Dendro Vision, finally making her an official member of the cult. Spends most of her time hanging out with various members of the Temple of Liyue. Was allowed to stay at the Temple of Liyue due to her age, but not allowed to stay at the Adeptal Domain due to only having one Adeptus parent.

Yelan Yansheng: Was introduced to the cult by Ningguang, after serving as an anonymous informant for some of her lawyers. Joined shortly after making a deal with Ningguang to continue helping with legal cases. Spends a lot of her time with a fake smile on, helping cultists she's slowly starting to agree with... Works as the owner of the Yansheng Casino, although is seldom recognized when she's there. When she was told to move out, she had her Casino renovated so she could live there.

Yun Jin Heyu: Was introduced to the cult by Xinyan, and joined when she convinced her it would help free her from her sheltered childhood. Spends her time either performing for her fellow members, or writing new performances, thanks to them unintentionally inspiring her. Works as the head writer and performer at Heyu Opera House. Offers a fifty percent discount to all members of The Creator's Grace, so long as they contact her beforehand. Currently lives with her friend Xinyan, and Xinyan's friend Xiangling.

Zhongli Xiangsheng: Is currently hating his life. He's managed to kidnap you, and has you trapped in his basement (why did you trust him?). Hates that he has to make you food (he gives you one half-assed sandwich a day). Hates that he has to take out your waist (the basement has no toilet; you're being forced to poop and pee in a trashbag with no trashcan). His only relief is when he takes out his anger on you-- and he's starting to hate that, too (You feel like you're going insane)...

Series Masterlist | Lamo Regular Masterlist

@yandere-city-deactivated2023081 (what do I do when someone who wanted to be tagged deactivated their account?)

@resident-cryptid (sorry this is late! My internet went out just before I pressed 'post'!)

[sloshed-cinema]

Robin Hood (1973)

There's something to be said for brevity.

The Disney imagining of the Robin Hood tale cuts right to the chase, trimming fat with a blade even more accurate than our favorite charitable outlaw with a bow and arrow. Oh, Robin Hood and Marian need to get hitched by the end? Well, there’s nothing like a classic childhood crush background to fast-track that particular plot thread, and when in doubt a quick shot of them giving each other fuck-me eyes to rival those of Nala in The Lion King can help eliminate confusion. Know that there’s a famous contest where Robin Hood wins a golden arrow while in disguise? Let’s just skip to the good stuff. King Richard shows up at the end to set everything aright? If anything, this is the most honest adaptation in that it makes no bones about how arbitrary and ludicrous the ending is: one scene Robin Hood is bedraggled in a moat, the next we’re seeing his wanted poster being exonerated. King Bro shows up, kicks out John, and lets Robin Hood get hitched with Marian, bada bing, bada boom. Does it give big “oops we ran out of budget” type of energy? Sure. But it gets us through. Far more focus is lavished on sight gags and endless chases (which are recycled in the opening credits), but you know what? We’re here to see silly animals whack each other and possibly experience strange feelings about that rakishly handsome fox, so it’s all good here.

Little John pulling on bloomers while getting into drag for the opening fortune teller scam against King John somehow makes the movie’s Winnie the Pooh wardrobe situation all the more horrifying. When dealing with cartoon anthropomorphic animals, a certain degree of outfit ambiguity can be expected. But it’s when there are wild variations or deviations that that movie can give one pause. Some citizens of Nottingham go without trousers, others seem to favor an open-front concept. I suppose in a world where Sir Hiss can don a little capelet and nothing else and still be royal advisor, all bets are off. One thing’s for sure, though: the traveling minstrel Alan-A-Dale is definitely winning the Best Dressed contest, iconic tunic of our hero notwithstanding. Though aside from his opening ballad, he really ought to up his lyrical effort.

Lackeys of King John shooting at children in cold blood aside, there lurk some shockingly metal moments at the heart of this otherwise lighthearted and charming affair. Upon our introduction to Marian and her handmaid, the women’s first act is to role-play fucking regicide with the random kids who showed up in their garden. I mean, don’t mince your words about how you feel about your uncle and all…

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'tax'.

Sir Hiss sustains what should probably be a fatal injury.

King John calls for his mother.

BIG DRINK

Robin Hood dons a new disguise.

Sir Hiss emulates arms with his snek body.

[qqueenofhades]

Do you have any idea why people are so fixated on Biden’s age but not Trumps? I know he’s 81, but Trump isn’t exactly far behind at 77: in fact he’s the second oldest. This keeps stumping me: it’s not a big gap in age

There are a few reasons for this, yes. As you might imagine, all of them are very stupid.

First and most critically is the way Trump's violent extremism has been completely neutered, mainlined, and normalized by the mainstream media. That's why we still have said media largely treating this as a normal presidential election, instead of that of a successful incumbent against literally the most deranged, unfit, treasonous, criminally and civilly liable, already-led-an-attempted-coup, deep-in-hock-to-Russia, adjudicated rapist, 91-felony-counts-indicted career cheater, grifter, and failed businessman who nonetheless appeals to the still-very-powerful isolationist, racist, white supremacist, and Christian nationalist elements in this country. Crucially, he also appeals to the billionaire class that owns the media and who will benefit from Trumpian tax, economic, and labor policies (especially now that Biden used the SOTU to once more call for a minimum 25% corporate/billionaire tax rate). The media also openly wants Trump back in office, as all the shitass insane things he did (and will do) are good for ratings, and allows them to act like the Principled Truth Tellers, instead of shilling so hard for a greasy orange fascist that we may well lose our 250+ year old democratic republic if he, God forbid, is elected again. Profit is more, well, profitable than truthful reporting, so the media has been completely disincentivized to cover this in any accurate way. We presume they will all wake up with shocked Pikachu faces when Trump packs them off to concentration camps with everyone else he hates, as he has openly promised to do.

Because we're also starting from an underlying premise that everything is the Democrats' fault, this means the party should be blamed for running said successful incumbent for reelection, even if he has low poll numbers which have in fact largely been produced by the media's relentlessly stupid and dishonest coverage. I was reading an article in the AP today about how 15 major student/youth groups have endorsed Biden and plan to work for his reelection; even so, the author could.not.stop going on and on about how Zomgz Old Biden was and how supposedly most Americans thought he was mentally unfit for the job (which is a straight-up lie produced by the endless "Zomgz Biden Old!!!!" handwringing have been subjected to without end. Weird how that works). That is also why we have all those idiotic "Biden should step down!!!" opinion pieces by Very Smart Pundits, notwithstanding the fact that a) it would be completely insane, b) it would be completely insane, and c) somehow nobody seems to think that hey, maybe the Republicans shouldn't nominate an openly seditionist generally god-awful fascist shitweasel who has already been the worst thing to happen to American politics in the twenty-first century (I'd say also the twentieth century, but unfortunately that was when we had Reagan).

In other words, Trump is just taken as a given, while the media spends all its time attacking Biden, calling on Biden to step down, amplifying "concerns" about Biden's age, producing idiotic narratives about Biden, distorting or ignoring the things Biden has done, and then writing concern-troll navel-gazing pieces earnestly wondering why people don't like Biden. (Apparently people's opinion of Biden drastically improves when they learn what he's actually accomplished, but the relentless parade of lies somehow makes it difficult for them to learn what those actually are. Again, weird.) Likewise the endless coverage we get of Biden's smallest slips or stumbles, while the media resolutely ignores Trump's full-on recent descent into absolute raving dementia. Hello, double standards!

This is also fueled by a heaping helping of racism and misogyny, because if God forbid Biden does die in office, what happens? The vice president takes over! We have a clear and constitutionally established precedent for this that has happened many times before! Except, oh no scary!!!, Biden's vice president is a brown woman, and that means SHE WOULD BE IN CHARGE!!!! TERRIFYING!!! So all the scaremongering around Biden's age, aside from being generally dishonest and stupid, has as its implicit message that sure, maybe you're fine voting for an old white man, but are you really comfortable doing that if it means a brown woman might also have the chance to be president?? I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD BE!!!!!

Anyway, yes. It's a complete straw man argument, it's fueled by bad faith and stupidity, and as with most things in the current American media environment, it's geared toward helping Trump win. Because you know. Something something BUT HER EEEEEEEEEEEEMAILS BUT BIDEN WAS OOOOOOOOOOOOLD.

[brehaaorgana]

I am desperate for context for your post about banks and fraud. Did that actually happen?!?! 🤯

Yeah I just went back to link the article but yesterday this article was published called The Day I Put $50,000 in a Shoe Box and Handed It to a Stranger: I never thought I was the kind of person to fall for a scam.

And it was written by Charlotte Cowles, the Cut’s financial-advice columnist. 

There's a part of the article where she says:

When I reached the bank, I told the guard I needed to make a large cash withdrawal and she sent me upstairs. Michael was on speakerphone in my pocket. I asked the teller for $50,000. The woman behind the thick glass window raised her eyebrows, disappeared into a back room, came back with a large metal box of $100 bills, and counted them out with a machine. Then she pushed the stacks of bills through the slot along with a sheet of paper warning me against scams. I thanked her and left.

A fantastic comment from Mr_Piss:

The whole lead-in about how she's not like the poor, stupid, lonely people she imagines to be easily scammed had a certain je ne sais quoi that I instantly clocked as the mutterings of an effete, inbred child of rich people - and my ability to clock that sort of thing from the get is one of the few things I like about myself.

Her husband works for a non-profit, she's 39, but they live in a $4 million dollar house in Prospect Heights? She's related to the Roosevelts? Ivy league is a given, but she feels the need to highlight it on her personal site? A child named Ripley?

This whole thing is just another rearranging deck chairs on the titanic of increasingly hubristic, insulated failsons and faildaughters are discovering the otherwise object permanence level of obvious lessons the rest of us understand.

You think Amazon will white glove you over to the CIA in a few minutes? Tell me you don't do your taxes without telling me you don't do your taxes. This person is so uncalibrated in their ability to navigate the world that their ability to generalize any intellectual output for anyone other than her similarly 0.1% situated friends is completely shot.

Let her go be on the board of a do-nothing charity, this game is up.

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Get to Know Me Tag

Tagged by the feisty @lurkingshan, thanks Shan!

Do you make your bed?

Kinda. After my divorce, I bought lovely new bedding and happily made my bed every morning for like a year. Then I got lazy. I sorta half-ass it, where I fluff my pillows and pull up sheets and straighten the blankets and bed spread, but it's not photo-worthy or anything.

What’s your favorite number?

3. I like triads and trinities. In fact, I named my first dog Trinity. And I had three children!

What is your job?

I’m an author. I have 4 non-fiction books published under my given name and 15 fiction books published under a pseudonym. Many of my books were best sellers. Despite this fact, it is not enough to pay the bills. So I supplement my income with speaking engagements, teaching classes, and running a handful of websites, one of which is a wholesale distribution platform for artisanal imported foods. Basically, I'm self-employed and keep myself busy doing anything that interests me.

If you could go back to school, would you?

No. While I love learning and don't mind taking the occasional class to be introduced to a cool skill (like making stained glass!), I absolutely refuse to do any more higher education than I already have. I was sorta super nerdy at school because of an eidetic memory, so I collected degrees in Biblical Studies, Philosophy, Greek, Linguistics, and Russian Literature before I finally realized I didn't want to be a perpetual student.

Can you parallel park?

Nope. I learned how to do it to get my Driver's License over 30 years ago and have literally never had to use the skill since.

A job you had that would surprise people?

Hmmm. My job-jobs were all pre-children so people are surprised when they find out I ever had any since my last one was decades ago. But I didn't just have a few, I had a LOT of jobs because I finished school early and had to pay for my entire university education myself because of poor parents, and I think that's the most surprising thing. I was a waitress (14-16), a shop clerk (16-18), an acquisitions librarian's assistant (18-19), a bank teller (20), a digital librarian for a major software development company (20-21), a language tutor (18-21), an adjunct professor (22-24), a houseparent in a boy's home (24), and a cog in the county tax assessor's office (24-26). I also volunteered as a translator for Doctor's Without Borders and as a suicide prevention counselor for LGBTQ youth. At 26, I had my first child and became self-employed.

Do you think aliens are real?

Possibly, but I struggle to believe humans have ever interacted with any.

Can you drive a manual car?

Yes!

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Cop shows. I agree ACAB, but I love love LOVE the testosterone-fueled fantasy world of shows like Hawaii Five 0.

Tattoos?

None. I didn't want any at first because all the tattoos I'd seen on old people didn't age well thanks to saggy skin, wrinkles, etc. Now I kinda wish I'd had at least one.

Favorite color?

Dark azure.

Favorite type of music?

I LOVE IT ALL. If you live long enough, you discover awesome music in every genre. Like, I thought I hated heavy metal, but then I discovered the album Pale Communion by Opeth a decade ago and loved literally every single song!

Do you like puzzles?

Yes, but I don't make the time to do them.

Any phobias?

Heights. Absolutely terrifying.

Favorite childhood sport?

Cross country! I ran on my varsity team in HS and continued it through college.

Do you talk to yourself?

No. I am so quiet. On the weeks I don't have custody of my kids, I have sometimes had weeks where I work exclusively from home and don't interact with another human person beyond text messages and emails. When I finally speak out loud for the first time in days, the sound of my voice is jarring and unfamiliar.

What movies do you adore?

About Time. The Royal Tenenbaums. Shawshank Redemption.

Coffee or tea?

Coffee! I used to be more of a snob about it, but I recently fell in love with Korean instant coffees and THEY ARE SO GOOD. HOLY SHIZNITS.

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

A teacher in a foreign country.

I haven't been keeping track of who tagged who, so I'd like to tag @absolutebl @juneviews @twig-tea @sorry-bonebag @stefanyd @waitmyturtles @disaster-j @cooloddball @spicyvampire and @norahastuff If you'd like to play and I didn't tag you, please do!! Be sure to tag me so I can read your post.

[tomorrowusa]

J.D. Vance is so awful that I'm starting to think that Trump chose him as "impeachment insurance" – if Republicans indeed win the November election.

Maybe the devil put the Trump-Vance ticket together...

He said that every person in attendance for his speech believed “something that’s a little crazy.” In his case, he said, “I believe the devil is real and that he works terrible things in our society. That’s a crazy conspiracy theory to a lot of very well-educated people in this country right now.” Vance made these remarks at a September 2021 gathering of the Teneo Network, an invitation-only group of young conservatives that counts elected officials, pro athletes, financial executives and media figures among its members. Vance joined Teneo six years ago. ProPublica and Documented obtained a video recording of his 30-minute speech and question-and-answer session, which has not been previously reported. [ ... ] According to tax records, the Teneo Network’s chairman is Leonard Leo, the legal activist who built a pipeline of lawyers who interpret the Constitution based on the “original intent” of the framers or the meaning of the words in the text when they were written. One of the most influential conservatives of the past three decades, Leo helped confirm all six conservative justices currently serving on the U.S. Supreme Court. Leo-aligned judges have pushed to restrict abortion rights and rein in the government’s power to regulate corporations. Leo has said he views the Teneo Network as a way to extend his influence beyond the judiciary to industries including finance, media, government and Silicon Valley. The network identifies and cultivates conservative leaders in “other areas of American culture and American life where things are really messed up right now,” as Leo put it in a Teneo video.

Leonard Leo is behind the effort to pack the judiciary with far right judges. Of course he has connections to Project 2025.

Adding Vance to the ticket bolsters the connections between Leo’s network and the Trump 2024 campaign. It also strengthens ties between Trump’s reelection bid and the Project 2025 blueprint, which outlines plans for a second Trump administration, including firing thousands of career civil servants, shuttering the Department of Education and replacing ambitious goals to combat climate change with ramped-up fossil fuel production. In a recent TV interview, Vance said the document contained “some good ideas” but claimed that “most Americans couldn’t care less about Project 2025” and that the Trump campaign wasn’t affiliated with it.

If people "don't care" about Project 2025 it's because they don't know about it yet. d'oh!

And yes, Project 2025 is filled with old Trump administration staffers/officials and people who worked in Trump campaigns. Saying there's no affiliation with the Trump campaign is like having a paramour and claiming there's no relationship because the couple isn't married.

J.D. is a fanboy of Alex Jones who spreads vicious conspiracy theories about the 2012 Sandy Hook school massacre.

Shortly before he spoke at the Teneo conference, Vance drew criticism when he tweeted that “Alex Jones is a far more reputable source of information than Rachel Maddow.” Jones, founder of the online show Infowars, gained a following with his promotion of conspiracy theories about the Sept. 11 terrorist attack. More recently, judges in several states ordered him to pay $1.5 billion to the families of the victims of the Sandy Hook school shooting, which Jones had called a hoax.

Don't think that Trump and his apprentice can't get elected just because they have bizarre extremist ideas. Remember 2016?

Trump has basically chosen Vance as his successor. Permit Trump-Vance to win and you help make America Russia.