iww-gnv

[crippled-peeper]

imagine thinking Israel’s military deserves more and more and more U.S. taxpayer money when there’s over a million homeless people in our country and 44 million people (1 in 5 children) go hungry and suicide rates are skyrocketing and it takes 3 years to get on disability benefits

[imaginedigimon]

u got any lgbtq+ hcs for any of the main 12 adventure and 02 kids?

🤔 Hmm...

Now Anon, I’m warning you: I’m probably not going to give you what you want for this. But I’m going to try.

I REALLY HOPE I DON’T FUCK THIS UP, FRIENDS *stressing out a bit I will not lie*

LGBTQ+ Headcanons for 01 + 02 Gang

Tai [Taichi]

Doesn’t know the meaning of the word “straight” except in terms of line segments in math (but even then, he’s a little lost)

He probably saw the pride flag for the first time when he was 14 and because it reminded him of the Crests thought, “I CAN GET BEHIND THAT”

When he learned the real meaning of pride and the LGBTQ+ community, he was even more ecstatic

Has definitely beaten up some homophobes before

And transphobes

He’s beaten up a lot of people in general

Realized after a while that he’s pansexual himself and started painting his face with the pan flag everyday

Will not deny that he has a thing for Matt and Sora at the same time and is happy if they’re happy but would really like to kiss them both pls

Matt [Yamato]

He most certainly questioned his own gender for a while, though he can’t pinpoint when it started

Gabumon told him it didn’t matter what he identified as, they’d always be partners anyway, so that really helped him a lot

It also helped that Tai was willing to beat people’s asses for him

Has also beaten up some homophobes and transphobes (Tai has been the one to drag him away from some fights)

Wears pins of all the pride flags at all times because fuck you haters

Also would like to kiss Tai, just like once or twice or a million times

Identifies as bisexual most likely

Sora

Doesn’t mention it a lot, but Mimi was probably her first kiss (by accident...OR WAS IT?)

She was the type of person who, because she grew up in a very hetero-normative world, wasn’t sure what it meant to like a girl

Probably asked Tai when she was 15 and still thinking about Mimi’s hair and lips when he explained to her that it was perfectly normal

She never forgot that conversation

Has continuously questioned her identity and orientation throughout the years, though only Biyomon has been privy to this struggle

Finally settled on saying she’s queer because she’s not much for labels (especially when she’s in a constant state of questioning)

Definitely asked Mimi to kiss her again just so it wouldn’t be an accident

Izzy [Koshiro]

Always a kid before his time, knew how to explain all aspects of pride to everyone else before they even knew what the LGBTQ+ community was

Has PowerPoints to make things clearer

Around age 17 or 18, he started asking that everyone use he/him or they/them pronouns, and this hasn’t changed since

Everyone said “a’ight” because they love him no matter what

Has always had some kind of romantic feelings for just about everyone in the group, but nothing beyond that

This poor sweetie pie cried the night he realized he was asexual and called Joe, who said in the most intense voice he’d ever heard, “You think that matters to us? We love you, Izzy, and don’t you ever forget that”

Has decided Joe is the coolest guy ever

Started some social media account where it’s nothing but pictures of Tai with various pride symbols painted on his face and it’s blown up

Mimi

Unlike Sora, she didn’t think much about the kiss

She had already accepted that she liked girls by that point

Definitely had a crush on Yolei too, though she played it cool

YOU CANNOT TELL ME SHE DIDN’T CONSIDER MEIKO HER TRUE LOVE

Teases Izzy a lot because she has a bit of a crush on him too, though this confused her because she thought she liked girls

The day she learned the term homoflexible she thought she was dreaming

But she wasn’t

Still, Sora and Yolei and Meiko are her girls and she loves them very dearly

Has the same enthusiasm as Tai and paints the various flags on her face as well (became part of that social media account Izzy started)

You can catch her and Tai at a pride parade screaming at the top of their lungs

Joe [Jou/Jyou]

I’ll admit, he’s probably the token straight? But he’s also one of those guys who’s not afraid to tell Matt he looks handsome today

Has needed to ask Izzy a lot of questions because he’s like me and wants to know and not offend anyone because he’s ignorant or doesn’t know something

Had a moment similar to me where he wondered if he really was straight

Decided he still was, but would support anyone and everyone because that’s just the guy he is

You know how he becomes a doctor? He most CERTAINLY helps with transitioning whenever he can because he’s a GOOD. DOCTOR.

Doesn’t beat up haters, but gives them a death glare that’s just as effective

Wore around a rainbow doctor’s coat because he COULD and no one tried to stop him because they knew he’d quit on the spot

Takeru [T.K.]

Been the guy to say “respect LGBTQ+ rights or die by my sword” or something like that

Lowkey had a crush on Angemon and Angewomon simulanteously and could NOT for the life of him explain why that was

Never told either of them this though

Or Kari

Definitely didn’t tell Kari

Okay yes, Tai is his big brother, but he definitely had a crush on the guy for about 2 weeks before he met Kari and everything changed

Hasn’t told either of them this

Like Sora, has only said he identifies as queer - he’d like to figure it out/delve deeper but is too busy flirting with everyone to care

Brings 5 different dates to his brother’s concerts at the same time and they all have to vie for his attention - it’s usually whoever says the most positive things about his brother

Has done at least 6 drag shows so far and let me tell you - KILLS IT every time

Kari is his forever girl but keeps winking at Ken just to make him blush

Kari [Hikari]

Also had a crush on Angewomon like how could she NOT

Also had crushes on Matt, Izzy, Mimi, and Sora (but not Joe for some reason)

When she realized her feelings for T.K. she got really really nervous (because of all his dates, you see)

Was also confused because she was pretty confused about her range of crushes over the years

Tai came out as pan to her first and she realized that sounded a lot like her

She’s a pan baby and she’s proud of it (and thanks her brother for supporting her)

Gave a rainbow pin to T.K. for his birthday and in return he kissed her

They go to ALL the pride events and nothing can stop them

Occasionally uses they/them pronouns on days she’s questioning

Davis [Daisuke]

Tai was his first love and you cannot change my mind about this

Meeting Kari was like meeting a Tai Who Would Notice Him and that was pretty rad

But he also likes her because of her, too

The world kinda stopped when he met Ken, though

Like damn, look at those soccer skills

I’m gonna be real, I think Davis is soccersexual (or footballsexual for non-Muricans)

Them soccer players be really hot though

Always has questions about the community, but never retains the answers

The PowerPoints, unfortunately, do not help

Eventually gave up and said, “I’M A DUMBASS BUT I SUPPORT YOU ALL”

They tried to tell him he should at least know what he’s talking about

(We’re still working on that)

Wears rainbow shirts with rainbow pants and it’s very atrocious but very appreciated

He is gay. He sometimes does crimes. We accept him anyway.

[T.K. asked him if he wanted to go to a drag show, he said “okay?” and really really loved it now he goes all the time]

Yolei [Miyako]

Mimi is hot, Ken is hot, Kari is hot, Matt’s kinda hot, everyone’s hot

She’s never been able to fully accept this because how is everyone so hot

Mimi was her first love, and Ken was her first boyfriend

She never forgot the firsts

Attracted to any and everyone it seems

She likes to call herself a frying pan and it makes everyone facepalm a little bit

Constantly dresses in the colors on the pan flag because she looks GOOD in them and it’s a way to remind everyone not to mess with her or her community

Tries to pretend she doesn’t know Mimi and Tai when she’s at a pride event and they’re out here acting like fools

But she also loves how unerringly supportive they are

Cody [Iori]

He was the first one everyone came out to, like for some reason he’s that guy

Literally the first person to offer you support

One day he told everyone he was transgender, and while they were surprised, they also didn’t react the way he was expecting

They actually hugged him immediately and said, “But don’t worry we love love love you” and Tai started painting the trans flag on Cody’s face until Cody said, “Guys please fuck off for a sec”

When he becomes a lawyer, he becomes the type of lawyer to defend anyone who was arrested on basis of race/identity/orientation/gender like the boss he is

Suspects he might be ace but hasn’t really delved into it much

He’s too busy scolding Davis for doing dumb things

Ken

Can everyone stop being hot for a sec? -direct quote from Ken himself

He’s in love with all the 02 kids and he’s accepted this

Yolei somehow stole his heart, but T.K.’s winks send it aflutter

He wants them both to stop (but they won’t)

Was completely unaware that Davis also liked him (even though it was really obvious?)

He identifies as bi and, like Izzy, uses they/them pronouns interchangeably with he/him

One of the good detectives on the force. Will bust your ass if you say any offensive slurs about anyone. [Has gotten suspended a few times for doing this BUT IT WAS FUCKING WORTH IT.]

Always the one on duty when Davis gets arrested for his crimes and it’s hecka exhausting

---------

Uhm... did I do good? I’ll admit, I was a little nervous since I myself am straight and cisgender (or cishet, as I’ve learned is the term)  😥  😥

Anon, I really do hope I did a good job!

And if I didn’t you can roast me in the flames of Meramon Hell

[divineluce]

The Champs || Frank & Luce

Timing: Flashback to August

Location: Soul on the Rocks & Al’s

Tagging: @frankmulloy & @divineluce

Description: New to the job, Frank gets to know one of the regulars. Luce is as charming as ever.

Warnings: Alcoholism

There was nothing particularly distinguishing about being one of many of White Crest’s bartenders, but Frank has learned that being one who knew how to handle Soul’s more rambunctious crowds afforded him a degree of influence, and that was even without the use of his pheromones. He also learned that Soul’s patrons would sooner bend under a firm fist than a kind word--of course a kind word from him was a force within its own right, so it was just as well that he was just as competent in wielding the former. Unfortunately for Frank, he liked the use of neither, and the result was a bartender who mostly communicated through monosyllabic grunts, and lost more fights than won them. But he kept coming back for his shift the following night with no complaints and no apparent scrapes or bruises and while his pacifist method served him ill in a brawl, he always got the troublemakers out, so they kept him on. As long as they kept paying him, Frank was happy to stay on. 

It was Frank’s second week into the job, but as far as anyone was concerned he was a regular fixture in the beer-soaked tapestry of Soul on the Rocks. In return Frank was also starting to recognise common faces; who was there for a drink, who was there for a fight, and who wasn’t meant to be there at all, then there was Creepy-Joe, and finally coming to the conclusion that Jake was a massive tool. His first memory of one, Luce, was not what she looked like, but of heat. Literally. And Frank, perpetually cold, was like a moth to  flame, conscious of his distance and yet unable to help himself all the same-- heat, and the stink of cheap tequila. He put another shot glass down in front of her, which was an anomaly in itself considering Frank never got near enough to anyone to actually put their order down in front of them, but rather slid it to them across the bar top from a safe distance of at least 6 feet. “Your fifth shot...or is it your seventh? Who’s keeping count.” He wiped his hands down on the towel that was draped over his shoulder. “You sure that’s wise?”

Like so many other nights before her, Luce had been looking to get fucked up the night she’d walked into Soul. After all the shit she’d been through, with the Ring, with Remmy and Erin and Adam and her sister… The horrible, terrifying fucking conversation she’d had with Nadia, or rather, whoever was controlling Nadia’s body. And, as the final garbage cherry on top of it all, they’d been excommunicated. The threat of death at the hands of some of the women she trusted most, at the hands of her mother? It had shaken her up. Their mother had done… so fucking little to keep them safe. She’d abandoned them, banished them, went along with the whims of the goddamn council. And, on top of it all, there was all the normal shit. She was hauling ass all day, every day, trying to stay afloat. Bills had been coming in non stop and it was all she could do to keep her head afloat. After getting out of a particularly long session of tattooing, Luce had headed straight for Soul on the Rocks. She needed alcohol. Lots and lots of fucking alcohol.

Waving a hand at the bartender-- a new guy, she’d seen him around a few times, but never paid much attention to him-- Luce took the shot with a nod. But, his question made her pause and Luce stared at him over the rim of the small glass. Glancing at him blearily, she stared at the shot glass full of tequila. Fifth or seventh was a good question. But fuck him for asking. “Not me.” She said, tipping the liquid down her throat. It hardly burned, but alcohol never really did. Perks of being a fire witch. Swallowing, she set the empty glass back on the bar and stared at him. “Do they pay you to ask if people’s drinking habits are wise?” She replied. 

He met her drunken gaze with his own measured one, undaunted and undeterred. Yet there was a softness that blunted the edge; the good intention behind a stern word, though Frank was never great at dishing out the latter either. He answered her blunt edge in the way he did with most harsh words: an untiring patience and sometimes even a smile. This time, it was a slight upward tilt to the corner of his mouth, as he relieved her of the empty shot glass. “No. They pay me to kick people out when they’ve had one too many, but I like to give them the courtesy of asking before I start lugging bodies out.” Well that sounded horrifically ominous. “Alive bodies. Obviously. Just unconscious--most of them are passed out by the time I get them into a cab.” Frank said with some good-humour, a trace of a chuckle on each word in the hopes of easing the slip of the tongue that was more menacing than he meant. “It’s a lot easier for everyone concerned if I just walk them out instead of carrying them, and it helps the driver find the right building when they’re awake enough to give the right address.”

Frank had his head tilted to one side, quietly observing the woman that sat in front of him. He recognised her to be a regular, he also noted that she seemed off today. Albeit an easy conclusion to make for anyone that used Soul as their regular haunt. Tonight she looked like she brought a history with her and it was etched across her brow, and in her eyes, in a silent language he was not versed in reading. The temptation was to ask if she was alright, but at the risk of making himself over-familiar, he said instead, “should I be getting a cab ready?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Luce let out a long sigh. Her fucking neck hurt from spending so long hunched over at the table. The piece had turned out great, just like all her work, but christ. It’d been five long hours of nothing but tattooing. So, a drink or five was what she’d wanted. Not some random bartender getting up in her business. “Lugging bodies, huh? Did I step into the funeral home on accident? This tequila or formaldehyde you’re pouring?” She joked, her words running together just a bit as she spoke. Shrugging, she sighed. Either way, it didn’t really matter much to her. She just wanted to get the fuck out of her head, at least for a little bit. And, with Nadia definitely not an option and Remmy… even less of one, Luce had gone for the old stand by. Alcohol. “Fair. Probably works out for the uber driver too.”

At his words, Luce shook her head. “I’m good.” She said, stubbornness apparent in her voice. She wasn’t dumb enough to drive-- she wasn’t interested in wrapping her 4x4 around a tree and having to deal with more fucking bills. But, she wasn’t ready to go back to Bea’s house just yet. Bea was never there anymore and Nell… who the fuck knew where Nell was most nights. Which meant that Luce would be alone. No, she wasn’t interested in going back to that place, the house that felt more like mausoleum than a home. 

“A funeral home is probably a lot cleaner for one,” Frank said, wiping a spill off the bar top as he does. In fairness, you need only step inside of the pub and he was sure that his point was made on first impression, and she seemed comfortable enough in her seat to suggest that she was a frequent patron of the establishment (that information alone had a whole story to itself). He was asked once why he bothered to clean the place up after the close if it was just going to end up being exactly as it was the following night. His answer was something along the lines of: he was more concerned with what the place might look like if he didn’t clean it up at all. “And if you can’t smell the difference between tequila and formaldehyde, let alone taste it, you are a lot more drunk than I thought.” There was a pause. “I mean...not that I would know what formaldehyde tastes like but I would imagine that it is significantly worse than tequila. Like, cancer-level bad. I would assume.” And this is where you shut up Frank. And fortunately for everyone, he does. Her reply hinted at a stubbornness that was both inherent and unyielding, and Frank’s been in enough fight to recognise those that he wasn’t going to win. Of course, that never stopped him from trying either.

 “Look,” he began, the single phrase intermingling with his exhalation until they became one, “I don’t know you. Obviously. So you do whatever you want. But I’m just saying, I’ve served people enough tequila shots to know that the solution to your problem—whatever that is—isn’t going to be found at the bottom of the fifth or seventh or fifteenth shot.” He concluded by collecting any abandoned and empty glasses, loading them onto a plastic tub to be brought out to the kitchen. “But like I said, you do whatever you want.” 

Snorting at the man’s joke, Luce’s expression sobered slightly at the thought of Erin. She didn’t know the funeral home attendant well, but she was very aware of the last conversation they’d had. Fuck. “I’d hope so.” She gestured to the stains on the bartop, the familiar wear on the wood grain, the slightly ripped and faded stools next to her. “Can you imagine a fucking wake in here?” She said with a slight curl of her lip. As the man continued to talk, she quirked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Sure you haven’t.” She replied before running a hand through her hair. She fucking… didn’t want to deal with the world outside the doors of Soul. For now, she could just sit and pretend like nothing was happening. She could joke and drink and push aside all the stupid fucking feelings and responsibilities that weighed down on her.

But, this shitty fucking bartender just kept talking. Talked about how drinking wasn’t gonna help her-- like Luce didn’t already know that. It wasn’t about helping her, or finding answers. It was about forgetting. Glaring at him, she drummed her tattooed fingers on the wooden bartop, her skin burning hot with simmering anger. “Yeah, you don’t know me,” She paused, the alcohol flowing through her system making her head spin slightly. Squinting at him, she shook her head. “Who the fuck even are you? Shit, I’d rather deal with Creepy Joe instead of some Pop Psychology bro.” She said with a grimace.

Frank took in her anger with a calm appraisal as he continued to dry the newly cleaned glasses with practiced efficiency. While most would reasonably shrink from the fire, he was almost somehow more drawn to it. Like moth to flame—quite literally, it felt as if heat was just pouring out of her in waves. He could not pinpoint exactly when this happened but his 6 foot rule had been abandoned and Frank was now standing close enough that he could touch her. He just needed to take his hand away from the glass, reach out across the bar, and touch her. Boy did he want to, and he almost did, but then she shook her head. Frank found himself almost doing the same as his attention was snapped back into reality and his focus was drawn back to the intensity of her glare. He took a conscious step back and realised with overwhelming awareness how much he did not want to. “Fair enough.” He resigned with a nod. He looked around. A quiet spell had settled over the bar, and the threat of a brawl was distant enough that if he was quick he could probably get away with ducking out the side door for a couple of minutes. He grabbed the towel from the shoulder and tossed it aside, from his jacket pocket he produced a small white cigarette packet.

“Keep drinking then, see if that helps you, I’m sure Joe wouldn’t mind the company. I’m going for some air.” An invitation could be heard in there somewhere; Frank was seldom ever cordial enough to properly extend the invitation…or any invitation. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re right. I don’t know you.”

What the fuck was up with this guy? He was leaning across the bar and, maybe the alcohol was messing with her depth perception, but he seemed way too close. Luce pushed back in her seat, just to get a bit of space between her and the bartender. But, he seemed to realize that he was being a fucking creep and backed off himself. Good, she didn’t feel like throwing hands with someone tonight. For one, she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to do, the alcohol clouding her vision and loosening her hold on the fire magic that dwelled within her. For another, she’d had… enough of fucking fighting lately. She just wanted to drink and sit and not think about all the shit that’d been going on in her life.

“Yeah, you don’t fucking know me.” Luce repeated. The bar wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but her anger had her blood boiling in a literal way. It was too goddamn hot in here. And fuck it, if this guy was going to be bartending at Soul, she might as well try and talk to him. Even if he was weird. The same could be said of most people in the bar, and of her too. Sliding off the barstool, Luce steadied herself on the bar for a moment has her vision swam. “But air sounds like a smart idea.” She said, more to herself than to him. Walking out of the bar, the cool night air washed over her. Thank fuck summer was over and done with. “Need a light?” She asked, leaning against the brick wall of the bar.

It seemed Frank’s entire existence was damned to fight his most basic instincts: to hand his customers their drinks, to close his distance when he was with friends (to have friends), to help steady a stranger who has had one too many drinks and was maybe not as steady on her feet as she first thought. Even as she swayed Frank did not so much as stir, even as every part of him itched to. He let her out first, following behind at a measured distance. “Look at that, a solution to your problem that isn’t alcohol.” He grinned around the stick of cigarette as he brought it to his mouth, “but what the fuck do I know.”  

The air was cool, and with the door closed behind him he was acutely aware of how warm she felt, even at his distance. He made home against a wall a little ways down from her, shaking his head at her offer with a polite thanks, “I’m good,” and he had to be. Mostly because if he wasn’t, that was an invitation for her to come closer, to hand him the lighter, and then for him to hand it back, and that was altogether too many hands for comfort. Frank didn’t smoke for the taste. He didn’t care much for the nicotine either. Like the alcohol, it never lingered long enough in his system to become a proper addiction, but with every inhalation of the hot smoke that was a few more precious moments between him and the undeniable hunger to feed, whether it was happiness or heat. Prolonging the inevitable, as he liked to call it. Not that he ever told anyone why he smoked, most of them were more interested in telling him why he should stop. Frank wasn’t interested in doing either. “So what is your problem?” He said finally, turning to face his new smoking companion, “you were downing your seventh tequila shot in a span of less than an hour in one of the biggest shit-holes in town. That could not have been an inspiring journey.”

“My solution to my problems so far,” Luce let out sigh, her breath coming out in visible trails in the mild fall night, “Have been paying the bills for you. So…. you should be thanking me.” She muttered as she pressed her back against the wall a bit more firmly. Her legs felt like jelly under her, courtesy of the tequila that ran through her system, as well as the run she’d taken earlier that morning. Running. She’d always liked running, but it felt like that was all she was doing now. Wake up, run, work, drink, and then collapse into bed, to try and snag a few fitful hours of sleep if she was lucky. And if she wasn’t lucky, she’d run and run and run until she was too tired to do anything else.

At his question, Luce glanced over at the man for a long minute before shaking her head. “Oh you know. The usual.” Being kicked out of her coven for resurrecting her sister from beyond the grave, nearly dying herself. “Family drama.” The fact that one of the women she’d been sleeping with had been possessed by a ghost, hell-bent on keeping her body. The fact that the other was a zombie who just kept getting themselves in fucking trouble? “Some people I care about have a knack for getting into trouble.” How she was so goddamn tired all the time? Well, that one she didn’t have to lie about. “Insomnia. Take your pick. All of them are good reasons to drink in the biggest shithole in this town.” She corrected. The Ritz Soul was not. 

“Right,” Frank’s mouth shaped into a smirk. A gesture accompanied by a faint laugh that almost, to perceptive ears at least, sounded like a scoff, “yours and everyone else’s in that damn bar.” The solution to most of Soul’s patrons, it seemed, was found either at the bottom of a glass or at the end of a fist, the former was usually a lot less messy. Neither seemed to make anyone any happier come day light. It was a temporary salve to a much deeper wound, and they come back the next night, and the ritual repeats itself again. Frank was no stranger to this particular practice and so, it seemed, was she.

Frank gave the woman a long, appraising look, as she proceeded to divulge the source of her problems. It was as vague as it was short, its details hidden by their unfamiliarity. He didn’t blame her, and a part of him wondered whether it was in his best interest to find out. Probably not. Distance, advised caution. He took a long drag of his cigarette, comforted by the warmth, and eased of his awareness of hers. She looked so tired—more than that, she felt tired. There was plenty of heat (strangely) but with his own cravings temporarily satisfied by the cigarette, there was not much happiness to be attempted by. He could feel the ache in her bones, the very weight of. He recognised it in himself. “Hmm,” his eyes returned to hers, attentive and empathetic. Oh he tried so hard to be hard, but he was always very bad at it, and worse at following his own advice. “You want a burger or something?”  He said very suddenly. “You look like you could use a burger.”

“Well, means business is booming for you.” Luce said glancing back into the bar through the dirty windows, her head listing as her body tilted just a bit more than she expected. Stumbling slightly, she caught herself on the wall. Her elbow smacked into her side, and she let out an involuntary yelp, “Siktir, motherfucker…” She mumbled, rubbing her side. Fuck, her head was spinning, the wall felt like it was shifting behind her back. And unless there was some new kind of fucked up wall monster that was going to… what, absorb her into the wall? No, she’d just drank too much. Again. It seemed like more mornings than not, she’d woken up with a foul taste in her mouth and started the morning with a few aspirin. Christ.

As the man looked over at her, Luce felt her lips tighten into a thin line. There was something she didn’t like about the way he looked at her. It felt like the way that people had talked to her when she’d revealed that Bea had died. Something halfway between pity and judgement, was what she would guess. And she didn’t really fucking want either. But, at the mention of food, her stomach growled loudly. Her stomach didn’t have the same reservations, apparently. “You know what? Sure. Why the fuck not, it’d be a quick walk. Al’s isn’t far from here.” She said, before remembering. Al’s. Celeste, she’d worked there before... Remmy, they’d had that conversation where they told her what they were in a booth tucked in the corner of the diner. Fuck. Maybe not Al’s. That’s what she wanted to say, but now her lips remained stubbornly shut. 

“Al’s it is.” Frank smiled. It was pleasant. Amicable. It was a smile that might have come paired with an offer of a hand to shake or an equally pleasant gesture, but since it didn’t (it never does) Frank had become practiced in making it so that a smile was just enough. Not that he got much use out of this particular skill. Most people couldn’t even get the slightest hint of an upward lift let alone a fully realised smile. Maybe it was his off day. Maybe because when he looked at how tired she looked he saw a reflection of himself. Whatever it was, it remained there as he pushed himself off the wall, extinguishing the last of his cigarette under his boot. Kindness was in short supply in a place like Soul, and this served as a good reminder that Frank was not the place he worked at. Which reminded him—“oh and by the way, when you say business is booming for me, you do realise that just because I serve the drinks there, doesn’t mean I actually run the place, right?”

The walk, as she remarked, was blissfully short, and quiet. This served Frank just fine considering he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, even if his previous insistence might suggest otherwise. She also seemed absent, as if occupied by distant memories, he didn’t need to see the downward tilt of her mouth to know that they weren’t pleasant, he could sense it. He could also sense that no talking, at least on his part, was going to make anything better, although some carbs to soak up some of the seven tequila shots she’d knocked back in the few short hours might. Thankfully Al’s didn’t host a great many customers in the early hours of the morning. “Get a booth,” he told her, which shouldn’t be any hardship considering only one or two were currently occupied, “and get whatever you want. You look like you could use it...no offense.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m familiar with the dickhead who owns Soul.” Luce replied as she made her way down the sidewalk, her feet stumbling slightly as she walked. It was fine. This was fine. The way the world was rotating around her, the way the pavement seemed to rise and fall like cresting waves? Totally fucking fine. She was good. So fucking good. Just another fucking day. “You’re a bartender. Tips. More people, more tips. I know half the guys in that bar and they tip just fine when I work on them.” She said, the words coming out in more of an innuendo than she intended. “Tattoos.” She explained, gesturing to the dark ink that covered both of her arms. “I do tattoos.”

As they entered the diner, Luce looked around at the place-- it wasn’t all that busy, which was good in its own way. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She growled before deliberately walking over to the counter and settling down there. Across the way, Luce heard a startled cough and, before she knew what was going on, a young man had tossed a twenty on the counter and was hurrying out of the door. She spun around in the plastic seat, scrutinizing the man as he hurried away. The light of the diner caught on his face as he opened the door of his car and Luce’s stomach lurched. Will. One of the members of the coven-- her mom’s coven, the coven that had… “Fuck.” She muttered, shaking her head doggedly. She wished she was back at the bar. As the waitress cast a skeptical look at her, Luce quirked a crooked smile. “I’d like a number five. Extra fries. And a large water, please.” As the bartender sat next to her, Luce cast him a long look. “I’m paying for this myself.” She didn’t need his charity.

Frank grinned, but his laughter remained stifled, the only hint of its existence was in the silent vibration of his entire frame. Tips. At Soul on the Rocks. Now that was a joke. “Right, see…Soul is known for a lot of things, but never for their generosity, especially when it comes to tipping their bartenders.” This was not entirely fair. Of course Frank could, as she did, work on them. Being what he was, he could have probably completed the task with even greater success, and with the profits to prove it. Alas, that was never Frank’s style. In his short time working there, he had already created an image of himself as the grumpy new bartender that would sooner bite your hand off than shake it. This was not an accurate assessment of his character by half, though it had more truth in it than Frank pretending to be pleasant and charming. He was bad at it, and he didn’t have the taste for it to try and be better. He turned to her arm as she gestured toward it. “It looks nice.”

Her sharp demand elicited an amused grin as she pushed past him toward the counter. He might have said something, a smart ass reply already half way formed on his tongue, were it not for another stealing his attention. A young man, his plate and drink unfinished, tossed some notes on the counter and hurried out. Strange. More interesting still was the woman’s reaction. They knew each other, more than that, there was a history there. Very strange.  Alas, Frank said nothing on this, but noted it quietly as he pulled up a seat next to her (respectably distanced, of course). “She’s paying for herself, and I’ll have a black coffee. Thank you.” He said, handing over what he owed. The waitress accepted it with a very pretty smile. Frank acknowledged this with a single nod and did not notice the string of numbers scribbled on the back of the receipt, and what was most likely her name followed by the letter ‘x’. The coffee was the first to arrive, blissfully hot. He took a ginger sip, not because he was bothered by the heat, but normal humans weren’t usually as tolerant to scalding hot coffee as he was. “Odd reaction,” he murmured around the rim of the cup. His head tilted ever so slightly in the direction of the waitress who was just now collecting the bill left behind by the mysterious man. Or perhaps not so mysterious if the woman’s reaction was anything to go by, “a friend of yours?” He paused for a moment, “or maybe not so friendly?”

As the man explained his situation, Luce nodded in thanks as the waitress set a large glass of water in front of her. Forgoing the straw, she took a long drink of ice water, the temperature soberingly cold. Well, not sobering, she thought to herself as she regarded the slightly slanting walls of the diner. “You could always go for the ‘grin and bear it’ tactic.” She said, pressing her finger into her cheek and twisting it, offering a fake smile she reserved for her mother and particularly stupid clients. “You could try asking the boss-man to throw on a “Hey, if I’m gonna be an extra bouncer, pay me like one” bonus. Or don’t, whatever. It’s your wallet on the line.” At his comment about her tattoos, she nodded. “I know. I designed them.” It wasn’t a brag, not really, just statement of fact. She did her own shit and she was good at it. That was her whole MO, right? She stayed in her lane and did what she was good at.

Watching the way the girl cast a bright, beaming smile, Luce rolled her eyes. Did this guy think he was some kind of player? But, if he was, he didn’t comment on the receipt. He didn’t even really talk about it. Instead, he gestured towards the seat the Will had previously been sitting at. Scowling at the ice cubes in her glass, Luce’s knuckles flexed around the glass. “Family friend. Bit of a shit, but that’s how it goes.” She muttered, thinking back to August. He’d been a family friend, before he’d decided to come for her sisters. And now, he wasn’t much of anything at all. She could still remember the way he’d fallen to his knees, how he’d willingly submitted himself to Lydia’s commands. A shudder ran down her spine and she took another drink from her glass. “What’s your deal, huh? You like being some kinda… bartender Superman or something?” She asked, glancing over at him.

The twisted smile that warped around her mouth, strangely enough, inspired a more genuine one to shape around his own. “Yeah, the whole fake-it-till-you-make-it thing isn’t really my m-o.” Sure he could be reserved and withdrawn—cold and severe were a few more of the choice descriptors that people often had assigned to Frank. He could be a lot of bad things but one could never say that Frank was ever disingenuous. As much as he might speak ill of his work, which he does when he was ever in the rare position of wanting to speak at all, he’d rather it be him than another person who might be more liberal in using the end of their own knuckles to finish a fist fight. Even, as she rightfully pointed out, if it was his wallet on the line.

Her knuckles tightened around the glass, and her words bit into an old memory—an old wound. A small gesture, a small shift in tone, but neither went past Frank’s notice. Probably best if he kept that particular observation to himself, and he does. “Right. That’s how it goes.” Translation: sore subjection, duly noted. She sought comfort in her glass of water, and he continued to nurse the heat out of his cup of coffee, looking up only when she spoke again. An amused smile flitted across his lips, half hidden by the mug as he lifted it to his mouth, as he mentally traded his wings for a red cape, and his jacket for a blue costume with a giant S on it. He looked fucking ridiculous. “I don’t like being anything, I just want to do my job, get paid, and get the fuck home. Frankly if your standard for Superman is breaking up drunk bar fights, then it is tragically low. Besides,” he took another drink of his coffee and put it back down. It formed a wet brown ring around the receipt, he noticed for the first time black ink stains peering through the damp ring, but didn't bother investigating further, instead returned to the thought at hand, “you’re the one sitting next to me, what does that say about you?”

“You do you. Like I said, it’s your paycheck.” Luce shrugged. She didn’t give a shit, it was this guy’s loss either way. Didn’t affect her any, as long as he kept pouring her drinks. And, given how many she’d had at Soul, he didn’t seem to have a problem with that. The waitress slid her plate in front of her, a large burger with a mountain of fries on the side. “Thanks. Could I get more water, please? ‘preciate it.” Luce said before taking a large bite from her burger. As fucked up as she was, she wasn’t gonna be a fucking dick to people who were just trying to do their job. Which meant the waitress. But, Superman here? Different story. He at least had the sense to drop the fucking topic of Will. “Mhm.”

Glancing over at him, she raised an eyebrow. Swallowing her mouthful of food, Luce replied thickly, “That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” She pointed at him with a fry. “You just wanna do your job and go home? Unless you’re working double shifts between here and Soul, this,” She gestured to the two of them, “seems pretty fucking off the clock to me.” Luce said before popping the fry in her mouth.  Lifting her now full glass of water to her lips, she shook her head. “It says I’m drunk on a Wednesday night and I need more carbs. Needed.” She deflected, looking at her already half-empty plate. “I guess you were right about the burger.” 

Frank took a sip from his coffee, his eyebrow cocked up from behind the mug in a silent answer to her accusation. He didn’t say anything for a moment, mostly because he wasn’t sure how to, which probably meant that to a certain degree, she was right. Of course, just because he knew she was right, didn’t mean that he also knew the answer to why he did the things he did. Why he warned her against that seventh shot, why he invited her out for a smoke, why he would’ve probably paid for her burger too had she let him. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to find answers tonight. That was what he paid his shrink to figure out and then tell him about it so he could ignore it completely. Because caring for someone else was just too fucking hard sometimes. Caring for himself infinitely so. “Mhm.” Another sip from his coffee.

“I know.” She had positively tore through her burger. Frank exhaled a short, barely formed, chuckle. “I’m really good at my job.” She was also not the first drunk he’s had to deal with. Although, speaking of jobs, he also had his actual job to return to. Someone was bound to have noticed his absence by now…or not. It was Soul they were talking about after all. He finished the last of his coffee, scrunched up the napkin with the receipt and then dropped it into the now empty mug. He took out his phone from his pocket, pushed it across the space between them and drew his hand back. “Do yourself a favour, call a cab. Spare yourself that eighth shot and call it a night. If you’re lucky you might even hate yourself a little less in the morning.”

“Sounds like it.” Luce said as her eating began to slow, picking at her fries. Grudgingly, she had to admit that this guy had a point. He’d called her out on how fucked up she was. And, though the room still shifted around her, was still fuzzy at the edges, it was better than it had been. The water and food was making all the difference. As the waitress left her receipt on the counter, Luce glanced over at the tall bartender. Soul wasn’t a nametag kind of establishment and she hadn’t bothered to ask his name when she’d rolled up to the bar and ordered shot after shot. “What’s your name, anyways? I’m Luce.” She said, sticking out her hand. At his advice, Luce let out a small snort. A cab? What, and go back to Bea’s house? The house her sister hardly even stayed in any more? With all of it’s baggage and it’s memories and quiet, cold stillness? No fucking thanks. She was gonna crash on the couch at Ink Inc and call it a night there. But, Mr. Superman Bartender Bro didn’t need to know that. “You’re not wrong about calling it a night. Jury's still out on the hating myself bit.” She mused, the last sentence coming out of her mouth without her intending to.

“Frank.” He said, but didn’t take her hand. He almost did. The smoke and the coffee had offered some relief but it did little to distract from the fact that she was still very very warm, and never once did the awareness of her heat escape his notice. His hand hung awkwardly for a split second, unable to touch her but unwilling to pull away. He let his hand fall in the end, but by then the split second was a split second too long, though he managed to cover it by pushing the phone further toward her, as if he was meant to do that all along. He drew his hand back very quickly, and wrapped it around his coffee mug, clinging to any heat that may still be lingering. Jesus H, he always fucking hungry.

Frank could sense that her thoughts were not meant to have formed into words, and even as she said them, it didn’t look as if she realised that she did. That the guard that she had maintained through harsh words and sarcasm had cracks in them, and tender thoughts were slipping through, and she didn’t notice. Perhaps she was more drunk than he thought. Alternatively, maybe she was sobering up, and sobriety was a tiring thing to have to deal with. Frank doesn’t say anything, but he noticed. And now, she wasn’t just some drunk woman he would have sent home on a cab and forgotten about until the next night she came stumbling back into Soul (the way she spoke about it, it was obvious that she was a regular), she had a name. Names were powerful things, and terribly intimate. Frank squeezed his eyes shut, ran a hand over his face. “Or…I could drop you off. If you would like.”

“Frank.” Luce repeated. The name suited him. Short, to the point, and… well, frank. For a second, he left her hanging, as though he didn’t want to touch her hand but then seemed to think better of it. He nudged his phone closer to her which was fucking… Weird. He couldn’t just hand it to her like a normal fucking person. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand back from his and pushed it into her jacket pocket, pulling out her own phone. “It’s not the 90’s, I’ve got a phone of my own. I don’t need you to call anyone.” She growled, though the words lacked their usual bite. At this point, she was just tired. Tired of this town, tired of the well-intentioned people who kept trying to help her, and tired of the fact that she couldn’t do anything to change any of that. As he offered to drop her off, Luce scowled at him as she tossed a bill onto the counter. He really was trying to play that “Knight in shining armor” card, wasn’t he? First his phone, now a ride? 

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Luce stood up from the counter. “I think the fuck not. Listen, you seem like a decent enough guy, which is why I’m just gonna say, you’re barking up the wrong tree here.” She said, shaking her head. “Trust me, this is nicer treatment than what Jake got when he made a move on me the first time.”

Luce’s reaction was not an uncommon one. The registering of rejection as they realised he would not answer their offer of a handshake with his own, the confusion that inevitably followed because what person was that much of a dick to refuse a simple handshake? Sometimes even outright offence because who the fuck does he think he is? The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched. Perhaps he should attempt an encouraging smile. Jesus H. He had done this a hundred times before yet it never became any less tedious. For his efforts it seemed, rather predictably if her prior behaviour around him was of any indication, she seemed to follow the ‘outright offense’ route as she growled her reply. He thought it wisest to not add acid to fire and opted to silently pocket his phone instead, wondering all the while why he even tried in the first place. Why he kept trying.

She stood up. Very suddenly. He’d thought he was being kind, but clearly Frank wasn’t very good at it. He was silent at first and then, with a start, the weight of what she’d said came flying back to him. “Oh! Ohhh…no. I mean—” He stifled a laugh and it came out as a choked cough. Frank pressed a hand to his face and shook his head, a smile visible between his fingers as his shoulders quivered through a silent laugh. He should be offended that she had made the comparison with him to Jake of all people, but it seemed fatigue had imbued the whole misunderstanding with a strange sort of amusement where there usually wouldn’t be any. “Yes ma'am,” he said once he had recovered some degree of solemnity, “duly noted.”

[needlekind]

okay but like you’re still voting right? like actually voting not a fill in the blank throw away vote?

like, the fact that that’s not your fucking business aside: yes, i already did because my (very solidly blue) state does early and mail-in voting, and i voted for biden, i did so for a number of reasons but especially because i am a privileged white lady working a comfortable job in a booming industry whose life can very likely remain mmmmostly comfortable even under another four years of trump and feel that it’d be unfair for me to make the choice for others who would suffer, but also fuck off? genuinely i can’t even blame people for whom the answer is “no;” the vast majority of people i know who are choosing not to vote are significantly more disenfranchised than i am and have every reason to believe things won’t change under biden and i don’t blame them! many of the people i know who are choosing not to vote are sexual assault survivors and can you not get your head out of your ass long enough to imagine why getting angry at a sexual assault survivor for opting out of voting for a rapist is abhorrent to do? can you take a minute to work on thinking about why people aren’t willing to vote for a war criminal and a rapist and a conservative? joe biden literally told people who believe his rape victim and people who are dissatisfied with his history on immigration not to vote for him and you’re gonna get all pissy when people go “well if you say so”?

the “normal” biden wants to go back to was an absolute hellscape in and of its own that led us to this in the first place. i know there’s a lot of talk about how the folks refusing to vote don’t have plans for their grand revolution but also i’m not seeing anyone who’s going “vote for the democrats then hold them accountable!!” come up with any plans on how to actually do so when they’re a bunch of useless spineless cowards who’d be getting exactly what they want from a biden election and a “return to normal” and if they do get it why are they going to care about their progressive constituents? because they obviously don’t give a shit and aren’t using any of the tools they have in their disposal to help fix anything

like, sorry to doompost on main, and this really is not any attempt to convince anyone of anything or articulate any arguments or whatever it’s literally just doomposting, but i’m so angry at how uselessly self-righteous all the crowing to vote as a solution for all our problems is, because i don’t think it’s actually going to fucking work even if biden does win, which is absolutely not to say i think trump is going to be any good at all, but i don’t think anything’s going to change under biden either! i don’t know what the solution is here and i won’t pretend to but it’s absolutely not aggressively insisting that you’re entitled to the votes of disenfranchised people. go court the republicans you wanted to win over so bad instead

[zayray030]

Iris West Allen Birthday Headcanon

Barry Allen-Her Husband

Barry wakes up at the crack of dawn and always gives makes her the best birthday breakfast ever. He also runs around preparing the area for her when she wakes up.

And when Iris wakes up, it's always to the amazing smell of food and sees her house full of iris's.

Barry tries to stop her from leaving the house, using some *ahem* conventional methods.

(The turtle necks can be unbearable but she'll survive the rest of the day with dignity considering her friends are crazy.)

Team Citizen (Linda, Cynthia and Chester included)

Confetti is poped the moment she walks into the room.

A ton of pictures are taken and put on everyone's insta.

They all sing her happy birthday. No matter how off key it is.

They all make a group effort to make her a cake. She tries not to judge it by its cover and was so happy that she didn't.

Chester makes her a fancy gadget. (Be creative on what it can be cause I honestly don't know.)

Allegra always makes her a nice card, gives her a hug and gives her a cool leather jacket.

Kamilla shows her a scrapbook of all the photos that she's taken of Iris. Some are sexy, some are goofy and and some are cute. She looks good in every single one of them.

Linda let's her use her account for a week to buy as much coffee as she wants. That's probably the greatest gift given, considering how many articles that girl has.

Cynthia alway breaches over and gives her something unique from another earth. (The multiverse exists. Fuck you bitch)

West Family

Her dad always sings her the most unique birthday songs that has everone in tears by the end of it.

Cecile always makes sure to drop in subtle hints about new cases she can work on. (Joe hates it but the look of pure happiness on Iris's face stops him from talking)

Wally gives her an important gem or rune from his travel that symbolises something important. He also squeezes her real tight in a hug to remind himself that it's actually Iris there.

Joe also gives her a huge hug and tells her a story about her mother before the drugs happened. She's always grateful.

Jackie (fuck you she's a West) gives her some pretty clothes and make up that suits her skin tone.

Jenna (although young) gives her a hand drawn card and it's the cutest thing ever.

Team Flash

Oh my Lord, it's humiliating.

Cisco, while amazing, can't sing. It's basically a screach.

Iris just sits there and takes it because he seems so happy.

Well at least until Killer Frost has enough and threatens to throw an icicle at him.

(he takes the hint quickly)

Caitlin gives her a pare of really nice earrings and a nice jacket. She also brings a note with it that says sorry.

(Iris has tried to get her to stop but she won't listen.)

Killer Frost gets her an icicle pendant along with a chocker. She also makes her a custom ice sculpture. She also has a little note that says sorry for killing her. She also grants her infinite hugs for the rest of the day.

Cisco, my boy, gets her 3 different outfits. 1) Work. She needs to look elegant but he adds his own Cisco twist to it. 2) Meta fighting. Even though she doesn't have powers she's a bad ass and he makes sure her outfits are useful to fight. 3)Lounge wear. That boy knows comfy mood and he's got her

Ralph always gives her some new article to work on and they team up for one day any day when Iris wants.

Sue gets her beautiful jewellery .

(she still doesn't know whether she stole it or not)

All the Wells team up to help give a iris her gift. They always either tell her a story, give her beautiful relics or write up a book for her. She's always grateful for them.

Team Arrow

It's madness.

They all like to pretend that they have this in the bag.

But they don't.

They're scared that something would go wrong after Oliver (who's alive) brought her a mirror.

(it was the scariest moment of everyones life when she dropped it and started screaming and crying.)

So after that they always panic and try to get her a perfect gift.

Thea always gets her clothes. She makes sure that they would suit her skin type and limited make up.

Roy, bless his soul, gives her mint chip chocolate and is instantly swarmed with a hug.

(he didn't comment on the small tears.)

Felicity gets her 2 bottles of expensive wines from the Queen cellar along with with chocolate strawberry.

Oliver always gives her an exclusive interview and a really expensive gift.

(he tried to joke that he would show her his abs but when Barry zoomed over and his eyes crackled with lighting he shut his mouth up. Barry's scary when someone else tries to make a move on Iris.)

Laurel gets her purse and a gift bag. In the gift bag there's a small knife and gun along with jewellery.

Diggle and Lyla team up on the gift. They give her a pretty ring that Diggle made (Oliver gave him lessons.) Lyla also makes sure to fill her on in what happens at ARGUS.

The rest all buy her a chocolate cake.

Rogues

Lisa gives her a hug and a golden accessory.

(the gold goes really well with Iris's skin tone and Lisa is always jealous.)

Snart gives her an ice sculpture and teaches her a few words in Russian.

Mick writes her a book. It ranges from writing a list of reasons why people like her to a fantasy story about vampires.

The rest of the rogues make sure not to attack Central City to the week leading up to her birthday to the week after the birthday.

Team Supergirl

Kara gives her a huge hug. No matter what. Iris will always get a hug and a fly around Metropolis.

Alex gets her a gun. She knows it's not exactly normal but she knows it'll protect Iris against aliens that don't take a hint.

Mon-El (fuck you. Him and Kara are amazing) gets her a gift bag full of twizlers.

The rest of the team make a bunch of cupcakes.

Winn makes her some new tech and tries to out make Chester and sometimes Cisco to see who can make the best gift.

Lois gives her a coupon to an amazing spa because she understands the pain of having an idiot husband who's a superhero.

Clark gives her an exclusive for CC Citizen.

Batwoman

Mary makes sure that she gives Iris a shout out on her Insta because she adores her newspaper.

Kate gets her the most expensive gifts and tries to out do Oliver. It's always a competition between those two.

Luke makes her some fancy gadgets and bakes her some cookies.

Everyone teams up to get her a ton of bottles of wine, a dozen boxes of chocolates and a ton of roses.

Legends

Sara gets her artifacts from the different time lines even if it ruins the time line.

Ray gets her a pair of heels

(the first time he does it it was inside joke between him and Iris. After it became a tradition)

John Constantine makes sure to ward her. He places a ton of protective spells around her.

(everyone's grateful)

The rest of the Legends get her books.

Charlie gets her make up knowing what will suit her skin tone.

All Together

It's a fucking nightmare.

There's balloons and tinsel everywhere.

The mess is unreal.

They get dumb drunk.

They sing her happy birthday.

They eat all the cake.

(they're all glad that everyone bought Iris so much cake with Barry and Wally there along with Jesse.)

All criminals are taken care of by the rogues

In the end Barry helps Iris carry all her gifts home and as they lay down she remembers she's still loved and everyone will always protect her.

Iris West Allen is fucking loved.

Spread the fucking word.

#Iris West is loved #fuck anyone who doesn't think so #i love this queen #A lot of references to the mirror verse #im still fucking salty #protect iris West Allen #Iris West deserves better.

[miggydiaz]

for the salty ask: 3, 7, 10, 11, 15, 16, 19, 22, 23, 24, 25 and 27 for spn

I had to do this one today because I have a LOT of Supernatural feelings and so a lot of these are even longer than my CK one. But thanks for the ask @wonderwolfballoon!

UNPOPULAR SUPERNATURAL OPINIONS AHOY: INCLUDES ANTI-DESTIEL SENTIMENTS AND OTHER UNSAVORY ELEMENTS

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? 100000000% I have unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion in the SPN fandom. SPN was the fandom that taught me to make JUDICIOUS use of the blocking feature tumblr offers in order to curate my experience. I would actually encourage anyone and everyone to use the blocking feature if they disagree with people. Honestly, we don’t owe anyone our time or energy, especially on the internet! It is much healthier than sending or responding to hate, IMO. 7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?* This is actually a hard one for me to answer, so let me start by saying -- I have not seen a SINGLE episode since 9x05? I think? Whichever episode was the Dr. Deanlittle one where he talks to animals. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the first 5 seasons, and they are all I watch anymore and I pretend nothing else exists after that (except The French Mistake because that episode is hilarious). But uh... I guess the simple answer is when I was originally watching it, I really loved Dean. He was brash, snarky, rough around the edges... but kind of soft in a I’m too toxically masculine to deal with my softness sort of way that I love seeing characters grow out of as they mature. But when I go back and rewatch now, much older than I was in 2006 when I first started watching, I see how awful a lot of his older behavior truly was. I still love Dean, and I will be a Dean girl until I die probably, but sometimes you gotta remind yourself that your faves have been problematic in the past so you don’t put them up on fandom constructed pedestals.

10. Most disliked arc? Why? AND AS A BONUS, MY ANSWER to 11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? I could write a literal essay about all of the problems I have with the later seasons (the ones I watched, which encompasses 6, 7, 8, and a few episodes of 9). But by far and away, the thing I hated most, was the Men of Letters.

Okay, this is where I am going to recognize my love of certain characters is at FUNDAMENTAL ODDS with how that character develops later and what history and background we get later on them. I RECOGNIZE this character is problematic, and I would NEVER STAND for his shit IRL, but fiction is complicated and nuanced, and fantastic circumstances do not make for normal behaviors. That being said, with all warnings I could possibly give, and with the full understanding that what I am about to say is basically fandom blasphemy of the highest order...

I like John Winchester’s character.

I know, I know. If you wanna stop reading and block me now, you are free to do that. I will not hold it against you. I am not about to apologize for anything he has done. I just need to contextualize why I have such an issue with the MOL storyline and it starts with the simple fact that I liked John Winchester as he was originally presented.

To me, and with the full understanding that I am answering this from the perspective of someone who DOES NOT regard anything past season 5 as personal canon, John Winchester is the perfect example of a truly complicated character. Here’s a parent who, if we take the pilot and the original s2 Djinn episodes at face value, could have been a great parent, who then got shoved into a fantastically impossible situation and made terrible choices that he thought were necessary in order to keep himself and his sons safe. That does not EXCUSE the heaps of abuse that he piled onto Dean in any way. We know John and Mary didn’t have a great marriage. But we also know from the pilot that John was at least a caring and present father, mostly,  for the 4 years he got to parent in a normal world, and that if Mary had lived, John would’ve been a softball playing dad who raised his kids and had a loving marriage with his wife. (Again, I need to reiterate, I did not watch anything past the early episodes of s9. If there is later canon that negates this, I do not know about it, nor do I want to because I don’t think of anything past 5 as canon) This is all important to me because these things emphasize that John was “NORMAL”. He was a mechanic, from a family of mechanics, whose father didn’t bail on him (a man in the episode where Dean is transported back in time to Lawrence tells John to ‘say hi to your old man for me’ or something to that effect). He was just a midwestern dude. Giving John Winchester a fantastical background through this Men of Letters bullshit made me SO MAD. First of all, I hate when later canon negates previous canon. I cannon TELL you how much I hate it. And the later seasons of Supernatural are riddled with stuff that doesn’t make any damn sense in the context of original, Kripke written canon, which is exactly why I stopped watching. That’s not ~Evolution of the show.~ That’s conveniently forgetting stuff that made your show and its premise so successful to begin with in order to keep filming episodes so you can keep making money. It’s the sacrifice of art for capitalism and yes I know this is a stupid TV show but as a writer myself it PISSES ME OFF.

/rant

ALSO, the idea that this toxically masculine family was set on this path by Heaven, and inherited this curse that put them on this path from their mother was such a good plot twist in its heyday. We spent four seasons thinking of Mary Winchester as a victim of circumstance, whose fate could not have been avoided because she was the mother to Sam, who is effectively cursed. And then, we learn that its BECAUSE of Mary that this ball even got rolling in the first place. IDK if you were around for that time in the fandom but at least in my circle, this was a big fucking deal. There had been so much (rightful) discourse about John before this, and what kind of parent he was, that Mary became almost deified in the same way Dean deifies her. And then we find out that this whole story gets set in motion by a decision she made because this was the life she found herself in. This was great. It was interesting. And even though the MOL doesn’t negate any of this, it does give John this weirdly fantastical that isn’t necessary. Let this guy be just some Joe Schmoe who fell in love with a kick ass hunter and had no idea any of this even existed. Let Mary and her want to be ‘normal’ be a complicated moral choice that fundamentally altered the paths of her husband and sons. It’s good tv!

Also, I fucking hate the bunker. The best episodes are Dean and Sam having moments in the car, or while in motel rooms on their cases, or whatever. I don’t mind them having a home base. I’m fine with that. But if a building could ever be a Mary Sue character, the bunker is it. I hate all of the MOL storyline, starting with this place.

I may not even tag this as Supernatural, I don’t need angry later season stans in my inbox.

15. Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

There’s nothing good about anything that happened after season 6. It’s all a bunch of retconning bullshit. Season 6 had its moments where it was interesting, so I cut it a little bit of slack, but as far as I’m concerned, the show ended in season 5. I’m not sure that’s necessarily unpopular, but it does feel that way on tumblr, so. 

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

Aside from ending it in season 5?

Oooh, I’m about to blaspheme again. I am definitely not tagging this as Supernatural.

I would never have introduced Castiel, and I would’ve given that entire storyline to Anna. Or, alternatively, I would’ve flipped their story lines.

Look, for whatever it’s worth... I agree with the idea that Dean Winchester is a repressed bisexual. His Dr. Sexy love, the entire storyline with Benny in season 8, etc. I just don’t think he feels romantically about Castiel. And like, that’s okay! Just because you’re not into someone who is into you doesn’t mean you owe them a relationship or anything, no matter what the fandom thinks.

But I also think Dean has a big problem when it comes to women. Again, obviously later on in the series, Dean shifts and Charlie happens and Claire Novak and I know all of these things from gifs okay, context is not applicable here because I have none. But early on, Dean struggles A LOT with thinking of women as A) capable and B) trustworthy. He exists in a perpetual state of identifying women along the Madonna/Whore binary. Even Jo, however you feel about her, and to be clear, I loved Jo, but he doesn’t stop thinking of her really as a kid until they’re about to shoot the devil. Up until then, he’s genuinely surprised Ellen lets her out of the damn house.

Giving him a strong, capable woman who rebels against Heaven for HIM would have fundamentally altered Dean’s perceptions of women much earlier on than we get and would have forced him to examine some of that misogyny head on.

Dean has no problems trusting men. This is why the entire Gordon fiasco happens, right? It was less work for him to trust Castiel because Castiel is the inverse of Ruby. Angel to her Demon. Angels and demons don’t really have genders, but for the sake of presentation of vessels, man to her woman. Not even getting me started on the problematic parts of having significant demons mostly symbolized by women (Meg, Ruby, Lilith) and having significant angels mostly represented by Men (Castiel, Michael, Lucifer, Zachariah, Gabriel, Raphael), and how that ties into the idea of Original Sin and yada yada, but just like it’s interesting to have Mary and her decisions be the catalyst for the story, it’s interesting to have this badass warrior angel in Anna who marches down to Hell to yank Dean out, and through her interactions with him, decide to rebel against the ultimate patriarchy, while Dean gets an equally strong female counterpart to Sam’s Ruby, a woman for all intents and purposes that he respects as a soldier and an ally and not just a potential piece of ass.

Also, Castiel fans being literally unbearable is why I left the fandom. Nothing against Misha or anything, and not even anything against Cas as a character (who I very much enjoyed in seasons 4 and 5), but his fans have always been the worst and they try to insert him into everything.

19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

Castiel/Destiel fans, which even though I also hated the direction the show was going, drove me out of the fandom. Not like, personally or directly, but just the sheer mental hoops they had to jump through in order to make their ship work and I just got tired of seeing all of the contrived meta on my dash. Oh, and the rampant misogyny that came out of those early Castiel fans. I didn’t appreciate it from the Wincest corner, and I definitely didn’t appreciate it from the fans of the new guy. Gross.

22. Popular character you hate?

Oof. I don’t know. I don’t really hate Castiel, because again, I liked him a lot in seasons 4 and 5. Even 6 was interesting, even if I don’t regard it as my own personal show canon. I don’t think there was a popular character in those first five seasons I ever really hated. I didn’t fundamentally hate a character at all until the MOL stuff came around. Um. Yeah, I don’t really have an answer for this.

23. Unpopular character you love?

Pretty much every female character ever. Jo, Ellen, Ruby, Meg... although Meg became more popular as the series went on, Anna. Um. OH, BELA. Bela ESPECIALLY, I recently rewatched season 3 and I cannot emphasize how MUCH I love Bela. She was the best purely human foil ever. Bela is hands down the character I love most that the fandom had frothing at the mouth hatred for. It doesn’t help that I legitimately think Lauren Cohan is one of the most beautiful women on the planet. But seriously, Bela. Hands down.

24. Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not? 

I have! Many of times, and ALWAYS WITH THE CAVEAT to stop at the end of season 5. Not a single one of them has listened to me and almost all of them came to me at the end of the finale and were like WHY DID I WASTE SO MUCH TIME, and I don’t want to say I told them so, but like, I explicitly in neon colored text once told them so, so like, idk what to tell them. But yes! I think if someone is interested in some classic mystery television that has an overarching theme of family and forgiveness and striking out against the boxes that life tries to put us all into, SPN is a great show. But only the first 5 seasons. Also, be prepared for some thematically problematic parts of the show because there’s a lot of cishet toxic masculinity in those early seasons, and we should examine our media critically. There’s also a lot of good though too, and IMO, the good outweighs the bad.

25. How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

I would’ve ended it at season 5. I would’ve had Sam escape the pit and seen him standing under the street lamp, but then I would’ve had him walking away to leave Dean with Lisa (btw, side note, I DIDN’T like Lisa because I don’t think Dean would ever be truly happy with someone completely outside the life). Not because Sam doesn’t love his brother, but because he *does* love his brother, and because he would want Dean to be happy, even though Dean and Sam’s ideas of what makes the other happy have always been a little bit screwed up.. but that’s a different story.

27. Least shippable character?

Probably Zachariah. God, could you imagine? And... maybe Alastair, but I’m sure there are fics out there that I do not want to think about.

[cards-onthetable]

A long time coming

Both this episode, and this Discussion about it.

We’ve all been on the internet these last several weeks. We’ve all seen the excessive amounts of promotion for this wedding. We’ve all had to spend half our lives staring at the weird white appliqué on Eddie’s dress that looks like something your mom would have ironed on your Girl Scouts uniform when you were 7. I dreaded the fuck out of this episode y’all. I was so sure it was going to be terrible.

SO WAS IT? 👀 let’s play bingo!

Here’s your warning that this is long af. I do not apologize.

Erin and Eddie and the Lying Liar

The episode opens in Erin’s office/conference room with Erin wearing an area rug tied around her neck with a bow. Why isn’t “Erin wears a ridiculous rug with a giant neck bow” on the bingo card?

Erin’s glasses on/off as a tic of Concern count: 36

EDDIE’S IN ERIN’S OFFICE. EVERYTHING IS GROSS. LET’S BEGIN.

Erin takes a fairly accusatory tone with Eddie from the beginning.

Eddie gets OfFeNdEd all “you’re taking the word of a complete stranger over mine?”

GOD WRITERS, can you PLEASE write Eddie as a capable, intelligent professional for once in your lives? Real Eddie/Cop Eddie/Normal Person Eddie wouldn’t play the ~personal relationship~ card like that. I mean sure, Danny and Jamie do that shit all the time, and that’s dumb af too. But the way Eddie does it feels less like a family member asking for a Favor and more like a naive scared little girl expecting Special Treatment. Ew.

“I onLy HaVe oNe SiDe: ThE TrUtH” 🙄

Erin saying the witness was “very convincing” is gross. Everything about this scene is grossss gross gross

So apparently, Erin didn’t know/realize during the initial witness interview that Eddie was the officer in question. I wonder how that conversation (with Eddie) would’ve gone if any other cop walked into her office. Like the whole thing felt so unprofessional on both sides, but especially Erin. Wouldn’t she give any other cop the benefit of the doubt? Question them, sure, but not go into the conversation like she assumes they’re lying. Witnesses change their stories all the time. Ugh this whole storyline is gross

Not to mention why is this happening in EDDIE’S WEDDING EPISODE?! Look I don’t need Eddie’s entire life this week to be dedicated to wedding shit. But ew @ a Work Conflict with a future in-law 9 minutes before her damn wedding.

JAMIE AND EDDIE ARE SITTING ON THE FLOOR AT JAMIE’S COFFEE TABLE for the second week in a row. Nice.

THE LIGHTING IS TERRIBLE ON JAMIE REAGAN’S FACE. Mark it.

Jamie is such a dumbass. “I understand you’re upset, I’m just clarifying she didn’t ACTUALLY call you a liar...” shut up lawyer boy, hasn’t anyone taught you that those technicalities are NOT the way to go?

“I don’t think there’s any upside to splitting hairs about this.” WHO’S SPLITTING HAIRS, MR. CLARIFICATION?

“THIS IS GREAT, WE’RE ABOUT TO GET MARRIED AND I’M JUST NOW FINDING OUT YOU’VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY SISTER.” I think this is about where @ontherockswithsalt and I literally keeled over laughing. Mark it.

On the one hand I get what Eddie’s saying about Erin being every woman’s basic nightmare. On the other hand Old Eddie was a boss ass bitch who never would’ve been intimidated/shaken/irritated by the conversation in Erin’s office.

What the fuck is this sweater situation? Eddie it looks like you took some scissors to it and the result was tragic.

Smooth move Jamie. Lol I’m sure most people loved that line “as far as I’m concerned you just described yourself” but 😂😂😂 @ everything.

Jamie and Erin on the courthouse steps. This should be good (read: gross someone get me a puke bucket)

Lol @ this running theme that Frank is nervous af about giving a toast/speech at the damn rehearsal dinner.

Why is Jamie bringing this Eddie thing up to Erin? Eddie vented to him - he’s her fiancé, it’s his sister they’re talking about, of course she’s going to Discuss it with him. But would it ever occur to him that maybe he should just listen and ~support her~ and he doesn’t need to go off and try to Solve Her Problems? 🙄

MAYBE SHE SHOULD FIND A SOFTER LINE OF WORK? Oh fuck me how is that called for, Erin? Eddie’s been a successful cop for years now. She only started having Trouble with her confidence and competence when your idiot dumbass brother fucked her up at a golf course on a Sunday morning.

DON’T BRING ME INTO YOUR FIANCEE’S DRAMAS.... oh my god Erin you started it so like step off.

I LIKE HER JUST FINE. Aren’t the Reagans all about Candor and Honesty? Shouldn’t Erin be having this conversation with Eddie herself if she apparently feels so strongly about it? Dude I’m so mad this is happening in the wedding episode. Or at all.

AND I’LL LIKE HER A HELL OF A LOT MORE WHEN SHE STARTS FIGHTING HER OWN BATTLES ?????? Eddie didn’t ask Jamie to ~fight this battle~ for her and everything is grosssss gross gross.

JAMIE SLEPT ON THE COUCH LAST NIGHT. AYE SOMEONE’S IN THE DOGHOUSE. Also this is about the closest thing we’ve gotten to Actual Confirmation that Jamko lives together/has spent the night together. I’m still convinced he’s never gotten her off in his life though.

Jamie has framed pics of his mom (his Harvard graduation) and Joe on his table. Does he have any pictures of Eddie framed anywhere? 👀🤔

“YoU’Re sTiLL PiSsEd” the Harvard graduate, y’all.

Side note: Jamie’s wearing sweatpants but THE LIGHTING IS TERRIBLE AND THE SWEATPANTS AND SHIRT ARE BOTH DARK COLORED. NO CONTRAST. NOTHING VISIBLE. 0/10 TOTAL WASTE.

Completely on Eddie’s side on this one. Idk about the whole making-Jamie-sleep-on-the-couch thing, but I’d be pissed af too if my fiancé took a private conversation between us as an invitation to go off and ~fight my battles~ without permission and/or without being explicitly asked to do so.

He might be closer to his family than most people are. But Eddie’s about to be his wife (ugh don’t remind me) and she needs to come first now. It’s not his job or his place to take her issues to his family members like that.

“It’s my job to look after you” GOD EW GROSS JAMIE REAGAN. That may be ~true~ but it’s not your job to make decisions for Eddie or treat her like someone who needs to be ~looked after~. It’s your job to treat her as your equal and consult her on (basically everything but especially) matters that directly affect her. It’s your mutual job to look after each other. Just don’t re: this weird paternalistic bullshit mmkay?

There are vegetables all over Jamie’s kitchen. Carrots in one shot, celery and onions and shit in another. RUN, EDDIE. RUN FROM THIS FUTURE OF RABBIT FOOD AND MISERY.

OH MY GOD LOL 4EVER. EDDIE’S IN HER PORSCHE (welcome back bro! Where’ve you been all these years? No, really... where’ve you been?) and she has BINOCULARS like that’s a normal and reasonable thing to do in New York City on a Thursday afternoon.

Anthony’s here? It’s a party!

WITH SNACKS! ANTHONY’S EATING! Mark it.

It’s 4 minutes before her wedding and Eddie’s all “I didn’t know Reagans were Like That!” Oh my god where’s the bingo square for me sinking into ontherockswithsalt’s super soft new couch and dying in misery forever? Mark it.

A SPEECH ABOUT WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A REAGAN? Mark it.

ANTHONY BEING THE ONE TO DELIVER SAID SPEECH? Shocking. Unexpected. Creative. Why is he so important that he gets this job in this episode by the way?

“Open your eyes a little. Know what you’re getting yourself into.”

WHY IS THIS A LINE THAT ANYBODY IS SAYING TO HER 26 SECONDS BEFORE SHE WALKS DOWN THE AISLE? OH MY GOD EVERYTHING WITH THIS RELATIONSHIP IS SO WRONG IT’S UNBELIEVABLE. HOW CAN ANYONE LEGITIMATELY THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA FOR THEM TO GET MARRIED?!

Oh imagine that, the dummy lied. Eddie didn’t. Who’s surprised?!

Eddie’s back in Erin’s office. She’s wearing a mustard yellow sweater from Kohl’s (I know because I have the same one yo) and a.... prairie skirt? Interesting choice.

“It turns out I owe you an apology..” A REAGAN? APOLOGIZING? OMG

Aaaaand Eddie’s cutting her off. Fucking typical.

EDDIE’S WHOLE THING HERE IS BULLSHIT.

A few scenes ago she (rightfully, more or less) complained that Erin accused her of lying, now she’s all “oh, not really”

She’s bringing Jamie into it, saying she wouldn’t have whined to him if she didn’t secretly want him to go solve her problems for her. UM WHAT? They’re saying she wouldn’t have a conversation with her fiancé just for the sake of the conversation - there has to be a Goal? Dude I just can’t. This is the icing on the cake of Eddie’s shitty writing all damn season.

Humans are allowed to talk about - even COMPLAIN ABOUT - these things to their significant others. They should be able to do so without fear of outside repercussion or concern that their partner will go off and try to Fix Things in an unwarranted way. But if Eddie only brings her Family Problems to Jamie with the secret agenda that he’ll fix them for her, that’s gross and a huge red flag and blah blah blah. RUN EDDIE WHY ARE YOU MARRYING HIM.

Also gross in general @ Eddie apologizing. Eddie shouldn’t have ~taken things personally~ (but Old Eddie wouldn’t have - this is New Eddie and I don’t blame her for her puppetmaster’s bullshit) but Erin is the one really at fault here.

Minute 51 of a one hour episode meant to feature Eddie’s wedding, and she’s just now wrapping up this ridiculous Conflict with her fiancé’s sister. Sweet. ThE BeSt iS YeT tO CoMe

Danny and Baez

SOMEBODY DIES? Mark it.

BAEZ IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS TRASHCAN SHOW? Mark it. Baez pretending to be Erin is hilarious.

Fuck me I’m only 11 minutes into this thing so far.

Baez pretending to be Erin messing with her glasses is GENIUS HOW DID I MISS THAT THE FIRST TIME I WATCHED. 😂😂😍😍

Can we please get a guest actor on this show who can actually produce tears when they’re supposed to be crying? All this dry eye blubbering is gross. They could get better actors from any high school drama department.

“We’re SoULmAtEs” this girl is like that over-attached girlfriend meme omg.

Baez is the best person left on this ridiculous show. Her thing with the palm print security doors? Genius.

Side note: HOW’S THIS DUMB CONTRAST where Erin is on one set repeating over and over that Eddie is Just A Cop when she’s in Erin’s office. Meanwhile Danny’s over here acting like his sister is the only lawyer in all of New York who can get him the warrants/subpoenas he needs for his investigation. 🤔

They’re arresting her. I don’t care about this storyline anymore but I feel like I should mark the time.

We’re in Erin’s office and like.... did Erin forget to put clothes on today or something? What?

WE DON’T GET SHIRTLESS JAMIE FOR THE LAST 39 YEARS, BUT WE GET TO SEE ERIN’S ENTIRE BARE THIGH? WHERE DO I SUBMIT MY COMPLAINT @ THIS BULLSHITTERY

Now Danny suddenly can’t remember how to talk to express his concerns. What is it about Erin’s office that makes all these ~professionals~ turn into blubbery babies who need their mommy to order their happy meal so they don’t have to talk to the cashier themselves?

Another unbelievably clear surveillance video to just clean this messy case right up. How convenient. I’m bored.

The Best Friends Club

Garrett and Sid walking down the hall, arguing the difference between piece and peace. Bros, it’s “object to this marriage or forever hold your peace” which, can I just raise my hand here and say this better be some damn good foreshadowing

Garrett and Sid are rude af marching in (interrupting) while Frank and Baker are in the middle of a conversation, and can I say there’s no Good Way this whole thing could have started? 

It’s gross for the boys to get all huffy @ the female member of their team having a discussion with Frank, but if it were one of the boys in there, it would be gross for Baker to get all offended and interrupty and seen as Rude and Irrational or whatever. Can we all just act like adults here? Thx.

Now we’re in Garrett’s office and Baker is going to Explain? Oh boy this’ll be terrible.

They’re pulling rank?! I’m a lieutenant, you’re a detective, you’re a civilian. Actually I’m Commissioner Moore.

Listen dudes, I’m sure your dicks are both huge. Shut the fuck up.

Why are Sid and Garrett throwing a fit like this at all? Frank asked to see the presentation and Baker showed it to him. God this is such a dumb contrived conflict why are we here?

“You know what? I don’t think this has anything to do with chain of command. I think this is bruised egos and stepped-on toes.” SAY IT BAKER. Call these clowns on their bullshit.

I need a margarita. @ontherockswithsalt please.

Garrett is in Frank’s office now, with a weird ass smile on his face as he says “it’s TIME for a VICTORY LAP!” Wtf.

“So you’re saying I have to get Gormley and Baker’s sign off before I can set this in motion?” How’s that for ChAiN oF CoMmAnD, Mr. Biggest Dick In The PC’s Office?

And now Garrett’s leaving through the conference room so he doesn’t have to walk past Baker. These dummies are literally so childish it’s ridiculous.

Now the BFFs club is in front of Frank for a Stern Talking To. Oh my god it’s like a parent dealing with a bunch of 6-year-olds. Remember when this show was actually good?

They’re all going to switch jobs for a day. Frank made a diagram. Clearly put lots of thought into it. A+.

Garrett’s complaining that it’s a lot to ask. A lot to ask that these dummies act like professional adults? Agreed.

Gormley doesn’t know what the word “quote” means and/or is not familiar with the New.York.Times. Garrett doesn’t know how to answer phones or log into a computer but he does a damn good Gormley impression, apparently. Baker doesn’t know how to read investigative files? Omg are we all learning something today, kiddos?!

Jamie and Frank have a Heart To Heart.

Oh boy, the Best Friends are together again.

“Our behavior this week, it was embarrassing.” YOU THINK?

The BFFs just had a more emotional, moving Heart To Heart than Jamie and Eddie have had in their lives, so that’s chill.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Jamie and Frank have a Heart To Heart

Jamie’s In Frank’s office after a quick chat with Disgruntled Garrett.

Frank’s joke is ridiculous.

JAMIE’S WEARING KHAKIS. Mark it.

“I have never seen you so unwaveringly certain about what you want.” Well unwavering is right. Jamie’s facial expression hasn’t changed since 2017.

Did Frank just compare Jamie’s feelings towards Eddie to his feelings about the Chevelle? Nice, that’s totally reasonable and not at all gross. Just kidding, it’s gross.

“She doesn’t want to lose herself.”

“Well that makes sense.”

“It does?!”

Omg seriously? Fucking seriously. There’s too much to even delve into here like I could write a whole damn essay about this exchange. But Jamie. For real. It surprises you that Eddie doesn’t want to throw herself headfirst into Being A Reagan? It surprises you that she wants to keep her own identity within your marriage? It surprises you that she doesn’t plan to melt herself into your back pocket and hang out there like a fun toy who parrots back all your opinions and dedicates herself to The Reagan Name above all else? Oh. My god. EDDIE RUN.

Well her brother’s dead....

Eddie has a brother? Oh that’s some nice cool chill information to drop on us randomly 6 years later.

I have Thoughts (maybe he committed suicide or accidentally OD’d back when shit hit the fan with Armin?) but I hate how this is a random throwaway line with such important implications. Have they ever truly talked about Eddie’s dead brother? Does Eddie feel minimized in her grief because her brother didn’t Die A Hero like Joe? EDDIE RUN.

“Don’t make her do all the work adjusting to us. Find ways for us to adjust to her” this is excellent and important advice, truly. Would’ve been nice to have this conversation, idk, 9 months ago?

THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

FIRST: THE REHEARSAL DINNER.

Lena’s saying some shit. Cool. Y’all by this point I’m so exhausted @ everything in this shitshow episode, I don’t even care.

“Edit and myself - who have both suffered from my husband’s glaring insufficiency...” oh my god Lena way to read the room.

“THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY DAUGHTER AS MUCH AS I DO.” LOL NEITHER ONE OF THEM SEEMS TO LOVE HER THAT MUCH THOUGH. RUN FOR THE HILLLLLSSSSS EDDIE.

TO JAMM-KO. Oh, my, god, why are we here.

This is some really ridiculous pandering to the fans y’all. Like over the top gross. This show is a just whole ass joke at this point.

But actually LOL @ Erin scolding Danny for telling Sean “would you learn something, numbnuts?”

FRANK’S SPEECH

UGLY FLOOR LAMPS. TWO OF THEM. Mark it. Twice.

Where’s the joke Frank?

“She’s doing the bravest thing I’ve ever seen a cop do... she’s marrying Jamie... and walking down the aisle bY HeRsELf.” 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Can we not commoditize that choice? It shouldn’t need to be a Big Deal.

Eddie is Her Own Woman

And a Lifeforce

But y’all

Lifeforce is a disgusting euphemism for semen, in case you’re unfamiliar with certain Top Quality Fanfics we have available to us in this fandom

So I’m caught somewhere between dying laughing and like, crying forever

Seeing her in action as Jamie’s Life partner

And hopefully as a mother! EW! GROSS! THIS IS NOT THE TIME OR PLACE TO EXPRESS YOUR WISHES FOR SOME NEW GRANDKIDS, FRANCES

That’s a thing that will never not gross me out. Public (or even uninvited private, tbh) expressions of Opinion about someone else’s family planning choices

Y’all this is Eddie’s future father in law telling her “I hope you go have lots of unprotected sex with my son, and potentially shelve your own career goals temporarily or permanently, and go through lots of painful unfortunate Body Changes, because here’s my public request for some more grandkids”

Let it be known if my future in-laws said that at my rehearsal dinner, they’d have a real actual Hurricane to deal with so

MOVING ON THOUGH, UGH. TIME FOR THIS WEDDING.

“SuRe YoU wAnT To gO ThRoUgH wiTh tHiS?!” One, gross, not a funny joke. Two, CAN SOMEONE ASK THAT TO EDDIE A FEW TIMES BECAUSE

“In over two thousand weddings, I’ve only lost three to divorce...” 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

LOL @ all the waving from the altar to the poor dishonored Reagans who have to sit in the pews like some kind of peasants. Is this my first grader’s spring fling school concert?

Side note: does Eddie have any bridesmaids? No? So she’ll just be up there by herself looking like she’s marrying 4 Reagan men? Nice.

I mean if they pulled some throwaway bridesmaids out of their asses I’d be mad, and if Erin and Nicky were her bridesmaids I’d be mad, so really this is a no-win situation here but still, gross.

Oh hey, we’ve solved the mystery of the missing Frank.

Eddie’s had nightmares about tripping while walking down the aisle. That’s her compelling argument for asking Frank to escort her?

WHICH BY THE WAY I AM SO MAD ABOUT. THIS FUCKING REAGAN AFFAIR SHOW. DIDN’T HE JUST TALK ABOUT HOW THE REAGANS NEED TO JOIN EDDIE’S WORLD TOO, NOT JUST SUCK HER INTO THEIRS? OR SOMETHING. I’M IRRITATED.

Here comes the bride. On the organ! Appropriate, to go with the Reagan men’s 1836 morning suit choice. LOL IT’S ALL SO GROSS I CAN’T EVEN DEAL.

Here we go, she’s walking in. We see Jamie’s face. He looks... bored?

Lena crying.

Erin and Nicky looking all happy.

Eddie again. She keeps looking up at Frank and it’s distracting af. Has she looked down the aisle to see her groom even once?

Henry looks 100000 million times more excited than Jamie to be here.

Oh, a nice long shot of Jamie’s weird chin and stoic face. That’s certainly the look of a man who’s about to marry the love of his life.

The LOOK OF LOVE

FADE TO BLACK

AMAZING. I COULD NOT HAVE SCRIPTED IT BETTER MYSELF. OMG BEST TV WEDDING EVER. THANK YOU, BLUE BLOODS, FOR DOING ONE THING RIGHT FOR ONCE AND PUTTING ME OUT OF MY MISERY.

12/10. Beautiful. Moving. Ridiculous. I’m so impressed and in awe. Such a great episode.

WhO’S ReAdY fOr SeAsOn TeN?! See you in September folks.

[pjdredful]

The AV Club

Chapter 3

I'm in a foggy haze and sounds that I vaguely recognize as worried hushed voices hum in the background. I don't stir or open my eyes hoping that I can just stay asleep a little while longer but the the hum starts to turn into a buzz I just can't ignore. I'm about to open my eyes when something said catches my attention out of the droning. "I don't KNOW what the hell happened. One second we were fine, sitting on the sofa checking the journal out. The next…"

 "The next second you're sending up spotlight messages to aliens." That has to be Orson because he sounds irritated that I'm apparently causing a fuss.

 "You guys didn't see it. By the time you got here it was over and she was out cold but her face…" Silence for a beat and I can tell they're all looking at me. Probably in fear. "It was everywhere. The light just came out of her, her eyes, skin, everywhere. And she wouldn't let go of the stupid fucking thing. I had to wrestle it out of her grip."

 A calmer and softer voice that I recognize as Mo's murmurs a question I can't quite make out. There's a bit of silence before Nat's deep voice breaks the tableau. "No. That's not right. That book is Evie's, we shouldn't read it before she does. Still we should know what we're dealing with. Start with the necklace."

 I groan and raise a hand to my forehead, still not opening my eyes. I'm afraid if I do I'll light up the clubhouse again. I can feel Nat's warm reassuring weight behind me as he helps me sit up. I open my eyes but probably I shouldn't have. The room spins and for a second I think I might hork. I swallow thickly a few times and clear my throat. "Evie? Are you okay?" Mo's worried tone makes me give him a wry smile and I shake my head. I’m so not anywhere near the level of okay.

 "I'll be okay, just a little…why are you guys staring at me?" I hadn't noticed right away but now that my stomach isn't attempting a jailbreak from my body I realize that all four of them are staring at me with deep frowns. "What?" Nothing. Oh shit. I jump up from the couch, startling them all in to taking a step back. Now I'm really worried. The panic must show on my face because Lirae takes a step forward.

 "Dude, your eyes." What about my eyes? "They're glowing." Glowing? Wait. My eyes…are glowing? What!? I need to see this. My bag. Where is my bag? Anxiety like I have never felt before hits me making my dully aching head throb harder as I start buzzing around the main room looking for my bag. I find it half shoved under the loveseat and paw around in it like a deranged squirrel. I stop when a small bright square of mirror is held in my line of sight and slump back in to the loveseat. I raise a shaking hand to take the mirror from Lirae and blink at myself. My eyes are usually a pale gray but they've never looked like this. Something flashes like blue lightening in their depths and I take a closer look, the mirror practically touching my nose.

 "Holy crud buckets." There's a shifting of feet and an almost nervous twittering. I look up at everyone surprised to see smiles and faintly amused head shakes.

 "That's our Evil Evie alright." I blink over at Orson with a questioning look and he shrugs. "If you were possessed you would have come up with better curse words." Oh. But the fact that he looks relieved makes me feel less annoyed that they actually thought I might be possessed. But to be fair I did apparently turn into the human spotlight. Hm. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick with the human part. As far as I know, glowing isn't a thing the normal average Joe can do. The silence deepens again and I feel like I should look at the mirror so that I don't have to deal with the awkward silence. "So tell me again why you guys were cuddling."

 Why isn't there ever a hole in the ground to swallow you up when you need one? I blush but Lirae waves him off with an irritated gesture. "I said sitting, if there was cuddling it's none of your business." Wait. What's happening now? My head swivels a little too fast giving a wicked throb and I wince. Ow. "Can we all just get back to what the hell happened to Evie?"  

"The Beacon was lit." My voice is a little shaky but Orson snorts at that but all eyes turn to me immediately.

 "The bacon was lit? That sounds stupid." Nat smacks him in the chest with a heavy backhand and he rubs it with a wince. "What?"

 "Not bacon, Beacon." Dummy. I sigh and shake my head. "I don't know what that means. Probably my mom wrote something about it, we didn't get a chance to read any of the journal before…." Before I turned in to a column of pure light. I give an involuntary groan and rub my temple. The headache is getting worse. "Anyone have an aspirin? Or sledgehammer to knock me out with?" It suddenly occurs to me why my head is hurting and I look at my friends with a sigh. My weird extra sense is in overdrive, feeling so many different things at once that I can't process much past the pounding in my ears. All I know for certain is that now they'll be coming for me. I don't know how I know it, I just do. "Whatever just happened to me turned my receiver up to eleven, there's stuff out there and it'll be looking for me."

 Nat wraps his bear like arms around me letting me bury my face in his chest. There isn't anything romantic between us because what with the gay and all but Nat is the best hugger, ever. I feel safe here and comforted despite the fact that I'm going through some serious eye glowing changes right now. He murmurs softly against the top of my head, letting me just be. "How much time do we have?"

 Honestly I'm not sure. Something's wrong with my tingly little senses. Or right with them. I can't tell just yet. "Not too close. It's like it's everywhere at once or too many at once for me to figure out." We don't really have the time for me to lose my shit so I take a deep breath and extricate myself from his embrace. I give Nat a grateful smile and look around for my mom's journal. It's laying on the floor next to the necklace. Very carefully avoiding the chain and pendant I pick up the journal and flip through the first few pages. "We need to know what the rune means, maybe there are some clues in there as to what's happening to me and how I can turn it off."

 There's silence around me and I know no one wants to say it but we're all thinking it. If my mom knew a way to turn it off she probably wouldn't have gone crazy. A pale hand takes the chain from the floor and I only half watch is as I try to make out some of the small cramped script. My beloved daughter. I swallow seeing the first words on the first page. It feels like someone just kicked me in the gut. She wrote this for me, not herself. I touch the words tenderly, the sound of the now running generator and the click clack of computer keys fading around me.

 My beloved daughter, first let me say this. I love you. I loved you from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you and I will love you long past the death of this mortal body. I only wish that I had more time to tell you all that you will need to know. For that, I am so very sorry. I shut the book, breathing hard, trying to not cry. The couch dips as someone's weight settles next to me and I'm surprised that it's Orson and not oh I don’t know. Anyone else. He's not looking at me which is fine because I don't much feel like being stared at right now.

 "Whatever you find in there, I still got your back, Bacon. I just wanted you to know." I'm so surprised I don't even protest the new nickname. I guess it's better than Evil Evie. I don't know what to say that doesn't sound like the stupidest thing ever so I nudge him playfully with my elbow and smile a little less warily at him. Orson smirks at me and gazes at me from the corner of his eye. "So about that cuddling…"

 "So not giving you fodder for your spank bank." He makes a mock irritated hum but for the first time since we've known each other, I actually feel like he might be a friend. Sort of?

 "Please, like I need your tired old lesbian fantasy. Ladies love the ole Chocolate Thunder." And he's back to being Orson. I give him a look that clearly says I disbelieve anyone has EVER called him Chocolate Thunder but don't say it out loud. Boys are fragile things after all.

 "Okay then, thanks for uh. All that." I clear my throat awkwardly because now that we don't have anything else to say to each other it's just weird. Mo's voice cuts through our moment and we look up at him both relieved and slightly disturbed by the burgeoning comradery between us. We’re usually spending far too much time pretending we’re not competing for Lirae’s attention.

 "Found something." He spins in the chair, turning away from the bank of screens we've set up at the work station. It's an odd assortment of pilfered old monitors we've scrounged from our garages and various yard sales. It might not be the top of the line but our set up is pretty badass. "So this rune your mom had, it's called Kenaz. It literally means, beacon. All these sites basically say the same thing, it stands for vision, energy, and the harnessed power of light." Click. Another little piece of the puzzle falls in to place. I stroke the cover of the journal idly, my mind deep in thought. "You find anything in your journal?"

 Yes, but nothing that I want to share with so many people around. "Kinda but it's hard to read. I think we should talk to someone who might have some ready answers." When no one says anything I figure I should point out the obvious reasons for talking to someone about mystical things. "I mean I can't very well go about life with glowing eyes and the occasional tendency to literally have light shine out of my ass."

 It breaks whatever tension was still lingering between my friends. "Couldn't have said it better myself." I give Orson an amused look. "I must be rubbing off on you." He just might be. My smile fades a little as I look them all over and I feel the burning desire to do something I don't really want to do. I take a breath and open my mouth but before I manage to utter a sound Lirae cuts me off.

 "Don't even think about it. We're here, we're a family, and maybe I never had a real one before you guys for comparison, but I'm sticking it out because I'm pretty sure that's what families do."  There are nods all around so I nod too. "Besides, you guys keep me out of juvie."

 It’s a relief because I didn’t want to do all this alone. Keeping Lirae out of cuffs is just a bonus I guess. I put the journal in my bag and sling it over my shoulder but Mo stands and takes it back out. I want to protest but I trust him so I stay quiet as he opens the book and places the chain carefully between the pages. None of us are commenting on the fact that I’m refusing to touch it. Mo replaces the book in my bag again and offers me an encouraging smile "So…where are we headed?" I glance at Nat as I stand, the pulsing pain in my head increasing for a second.

 "The Harbor." Warrow isn't my favorite person in the world but he knows more about this world than anyone else we've encountered. He might be a slimy little weasel but…I kind of need him. Gross. I can only imagine how happy he's going to be about that. A warm hand on my elbow steadies me and I realize I had my eyes closed for a second. Hazel eyes fill my vision and I'm suddenly reminded of our near miss kiss in the shed. "Don't look. It's weird." I glance down and away because I don't want Lirae to see my eyes. I'm a freak now. I mean. I always knew I was a freak but now it's confirmed. She cups my face and gives me a warm look. Why are her hands always so warm?

 "Still adorkable." Orson mimics her comment snidely but she ignores him to slip dark sunglasses on my face. "Can't have people staring at you." Oh. Good idea.

 "Thanks." We break apart a little reluctantly and head for the car. The truth is now is a totally inappropriate time to have fluttery feelings in my belly. I don't even know what's going on with her and ole Chocolate Thunder here. Their breakups never last that long and I don't want to be in the middle of that mess. And somehow I'm stuck. Literally in the middle Lirae and Orson in the backseat of the car. Great. Just. Great.

 Mo looks in the rearview mirror at me and offers me a sympathetic grin. "Everyone belted in?" I feel a hand under my rump and I squeak, startled at being groped. "Sorry, you're sitting on the seatbelt." Oddly, she doesn't look the least bit sorry at all.

[soulful-ofevans]

Somebody To Love - Chris Evans

summary: Chris keeps trying to tell you he’s in this for the long haul. You, however, don’t think he realizes what the haul will enquire. Does he know there’s more to you than what you show him? Does he see the pain in your eyes?  

people: Chris - Reader (you)

warnings: none. 

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I want this to be dedicated to a loving and caring person who knows what having everyday pain is like. @sfreeborn you are a warrior, and like me, you have to get up and go on with your day even when it feels like hell. You are so amazing and I just hope this imagine is something you’ll enjoy, I only want to make you happy, dear. - R .xx

Have you ever felt just…so angry at nothing? You just endure the anger because you can't blame anyone! You just swallow the pill of tolerance every day and wait until you've reached the point of no return. You become your anger. Water that's boiling hot in a spot right inside your heart. Your loved ones, they try to help but what can help a lost cause? I'm gone, I'm done. I can't keep pretending, and I know it'll feel like ripping off a band-aid of a bee sting. But he knows it, and I know it.

I'm not enough.

I'm just so angry, all the time… but who am I angry at? Myself? My body for defying it’s one duty of protecting and nurturing me? No. I was just angry. Angry.

My eyes opened fast and immediately I regretted my decision to wake up. I lifted up my arms to rub my eyes and sit up but fell back into the bed. My arms felt like I'd gone to the gym last night and lifted twenty-pound weights; all night long. Aching so badly my hand shook as I reached for my phone on the bedside table. Typing in my password, I opened up my messages and saw his name right at the top of my contact list, with a blue dot on the left.

Chris: Love wake up! Your coming to set today to meet the cast! Anthony says he’s excited to meet Mrs. America haha XP

Chris: Honey? :)

Chris: Ladybug? You're normally awake by ten… are you okay?

Chris: Babe?

Chris: okay I'm worried now, I've called ten times, I’m coming home.

Jesus... why the hell was he up my ass right now?

Glancing at the time my body released a tender sigh, 2:45 P.M.

How had I missed his calls? I always knew it was him by his custom ringtone; “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé. My ringer was on loud too, so why the hell had I missed them all?

Dropping my phone onto the white comforter that held me hostage in a tight, comfy cocoon. Awaiting for Chris to come through the door in panic any minute. He'd be racing the highway to get here and I was already guilt-ridden enough, I didn't want to cause him an accident by calling him so I awaited his booming voice he never realized pierced my eardrums like shards of glass.

***

The fight started when he found her in her pajamas, rifling through the tea collection in the kitchen. When he saw her, looking to him like just a lazy-ass, he started in on her. Never seeing the pain in her eyes as his voice hurt her ears like he was scraping his nail down the chalkboard. She tried to hold her own, but there was a Mardi Gras that was going on inside her brain that prohibited her from even hearing his voice. That was, until he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter, making my pain suddenly become power. Angry, nasty, vulnerable power.

“You listen to me, Chris!” His head jumped up to look at her red, puffy eyes. They poured anger into his, and immediately Chris felt himself realize his fuck up of yelling. 

He knew she had chronic pain. Normally, she would just power through it. Lately, though, she seemed… slower, more tired and less driven to be intimate with him… he should’ve known that there was more than just a headache to her chronic pain.

“You listen, okay? I’m am a fucking mess, Chris! I have days, where I can’t get out of bed! I’m depressed, therefore I’m not a confident person, ever. I’m always uncomfortable, scared or tired! Do you know how that feels? A-And, s-sometimes I’m just…sometimes I have days where I need someone. Because my brain is questioning everything and everyone. My brain goes into overdrive and suddenly I’m terrified we're going to get a nuclear attack or I am gonna have like this… massive stroke! I have this severe anxiety and then come to the panic attacks. I have chronic. pain. I am not going to get better, it just a fact. And I hate that! I hate that so fucking much but it’s my life! I deal with it. I do what I can, but I will be damned if I drag someone I love into my personal hell, Christopher. You don’t need someone like me. You deserve a lot bet-”

“No, I don’t, Y/N because you're mine. You are my woman. I love you, dammit! More than I ever thought I possibly could. I want to be here, there, anywhere you have to go! I want to be at your side. To help you through the pain, cheer you on as you continue getting your therapies. Baby, I don’t need anyone else. I don’t know how to convince you, darling… how can I get you to believe in me! Believe in the truth! There’s no one else I need or want. You’re my one, baby. You must know that, or at least feel that.” You shook your head, though, looking down at the blue tips of your hands, angry with Chris’s words. 

Standing up I went to walk away but halted, feeling that gnawing off my anger bubbling up in my stomach for some reason, this time I didn’t suppress it, I took it in and embraced that anger, letting it flood the room with my poisonous tone. Even Chris jumped when he heard my roar.

“WHY DO YOU WANT SOMEONE WHO CAN’T BE WHAT YOU WANT? WHY? YOU COULD HAVE HAD THE HOTTEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD, I DON’T GET IT, CHRISTOPHER!” 

Tears streamed like rivers down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less, you felt broken and wanted help. You hurt and wanted to be cared for. You were exhausted to the point of just passing out on the floor. You wouldn't even mind if that happened, though. It'd help in forgetting that this fight ever occurred.

Chris decided to come back at me one final time. Throwing his emotional pain into his words, finally letting me see an emotion I rarely saw in Chris; desperation.

“WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND I’M IN LOVE YOU! THAT’S IT. YOU ARE THE ONE I WANT, FOREVER!”

When he stopped. It was like his final words did it for me, things clicked and I saw behind those blue eyes that he was telling the cold, hard, truth. He was leaving me, he wanted to be with me... and though those words didn’t make sense in my mind now, I felt comforted in a weird way, like I was actually... loved, by someone.

 We didn’t speak. we just let our bodies talk to us. 

Maybe it was the pain that finally got to her, letting her emotional barricade be broken down, allowing Chris to come over to her side of this violent, kitchen war. My legs were shaking and he could tell I was in immense pain from standing so long. Quickly he swept me up from the floor and into his arms. I relaxed into his chest while my arms hung around Chris’s neck.

He pecked my forehead steadily as he reached our bedroom, laying me down on the comforter while he searched for a blanket to cover me. I felt my eyes getting droopier and droopier by the second. Like they always say, you never know when you slip into sleep, it just comes over you and takes you in. I gladly let sleep take away me in, dissipating the pounding headache and throbbing limbs I was suffering with. I knew when  I woke up, he’d be right by my side. Things would be different, though, he’d know what’s happening, he’d be different when he talks about going out and doing active things. 

  Chris would take a while to mildly understand what my chronic pain felt like, but I would gladly wait with him as he learned from watching. He was a guardian for me, I guess. I could hold my own if I wanted too. But sometimes, you just want to be loved and taken care of.  

                                                          Chris

Looking at her, I studied her silently. She looked so… defeated. Defeated by her own body, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting fucked over by myself. Never being able to stop it. She closed her eyes slowly and let out a sigh of relief. From what? I don’t know. I silently padded around the bedroom, grabbing her two blankets and a glass of water in case she had a headache in the morning. Which normally was the case. Crawling onto the other half of the bed, I just… watched. I watched over her, feeling like I was protecting her from something. Maybe whatever I was protecting her from was all made up in my head, but frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. 

This was my woman, and I was going to care for her. Every moment, of every day. Because she deserved this.

tagged:  @boredoutofmymindstuff  @iamimanim  @hibaabdo@oneshots-imagines-and-that @neonwolf2020 @toc1985 @mculove1@chrisevans-imagines @ptprocrastination @evansscruff@jamesgiuseppe @boston-boy-evans @writingcreatingstorytelling@username-evie@imaginingbucky@boredoutofmymindstuff@shamvictoria11@ateliefloresdaprimavera@raveviolet @i-am-cass-1@tranquilsouls-riotousthoughts@myluvislikewow @nalatheshadequeen @not-your-cup-of-joe  @musiccoffebook @nea90sweetie @jinxx-ed13 @j-jewel-l@ethereal-beaut-y @jemjemiansworld@hiddenavengers @itsteph13@rachael-othman @abigrumple  @jasli123@jamesboobchananbarnes1234@emmucz @happelu970 @amandulie@bisexualbuddhist@imaginesofdreams @teacoffeebooks @chrisevans-sexualfrustrations @stylesnbarnes @bsicthought@captainmqmeep@marrish-af @100acresofwood  @missmotherhen@science-of-deduction-sh @sireanscall @crapythings@batmanbreeann@amyyleblanc1999 @coldeath @hhedegard@happelu970 @hollycornish@justanneforyou @ramiramblings@training-wolves@dracodormiensnunquamtitillandush @oneshots-imagines-and-that@coldplaylover17-blog @amandulie@whatmakesmebeme-tblr@giftofdreams @sfreeborn @winters–doll @purplekitten30

[quakerjoe]

CUPPA JOE – FREE SPEECH – 24 APRIL 2017

 Free Speech Isn’t As Free As You Think

 In recent news, Anne Coulter was booked to speak at Berkeley, but student protests shafted that temporarily before Coulter’s shindig was on yet again. There’s been an outpouring of opinions from all angles on this, so I may as well throw my asshole (I mean, “opinion”) in the ring as well. You see, I have rather mixed feelings on this, but in the end, I am pretty set in how I feel about this overall.

 In a recent article for “Forward Progressives”, writer Allen Clifton, one of my faves, wrote the following:

 “Sad to say, but the story right now isn’t about how terrible Ann Coulter is, it’s about how ridiculous the people at Berkeley are behaving. And this isn’t just Berkeley. There’s an epidemic plaguing the left all across this country where college campuses are becoming less and less tolerant of one of the cornerstones of what makes this country great: Free Speech. This idea that we have to somehow shelter ourselves from hateful or offensive things is unrealistic. That’s not life nor is it any way to live. A large part of our development as humans is being able to deal with a rather harsh world that’s not always fair, tolerant, sensitive, or worried about how someone feels. Being educated isn’t just about learning what’s inside of a book, it’s also about preparing yourself for life — real life. Often our successes come from the experiences we learned overcoming failure, adversity, and some of the tougher moments in our lives. If you want to live in a bubble and pretend the world isn’t what it really is, that’s fine, go right ahead. However, once that bubble bursts, you’re going to be in a whole lot of trouble. Life’s going to knock you down, walk all over you, and there’s not going to be someone there to rush to your side, pick you up, tell you that you’re amazing, and give you a participation trophy.”

 Clifton’s article goes on about a lot more, and his points are spot on and valid. However, on this particular slice of it, I find myself a bit annoyed. On the one hand, I agree with this completely. Earlier in the article, Clifton points out that nothing exposes Coulter’s utter fuckery better than letting her speak. However, here is where I tend to disagree. Clifton is missing one of the important parts of Free Speech. It doesn’t exist. The First Amendment protects all from the GOVERNMENT for whatever we write or say, most often in protest, but it does NOT protect us from the repercussions of those around us when we run our mouths or write things that’ll piss someone off. If you were to run through Harlem shouting “Nigger! Nigger! Nigger!” the First Amendment isn’t going to protect you from a sound ass-beating or worse. If you went into a biker bar and starting calling them all “Faggots!” I can guarantee you that you’re not going to have a good time of it, and there’s not going to be a lawyer there to keep your body from never being seen again. If you call a woman “Cunt!” to her face, there’s likely going to be a lightning-fast slap to yours in the immediate future. There are repercussions for everything you say or write, especially at a college campus.

 So how does this apply to Coulter? The fine line here, as mentioned by Clifton, is the word “Tolerance”. Sure, Coulter exposes her ignorance every single time she opens her pie hole. Will letting her speak at Berkeley make a difference? Not really. Her reputation is firm, and it has preceded her. That is also precisely why students wanted her gone. If you’re a famous talking head known for shitting out of your mouth, the likelihood that you’re going to be welcomed there is pretty slim, and if you find the place blockaded by people who don’t want you even NEAR their campus, well, what the hell did you expect? You want to be heard in that area, then rent a hall nearby, and have your beer hall putsch someplace that’ll either take your money or backs your cause. A college campus is not the place for lies to be spread and delusions to be pawned off for facts. We’re not talking snowflakes here; we’re talking about young people who already know how much of an idiot Coulter and her ilk are. The bottom line is, THEY used THEIR “right of free speech” to protest her presence at their campus and attempted to shut her down. They’re tired of all the “participation trophies” that Generation X and back have given out. If you try talking to the Millennials, they’re actually offended by such a notion. What this up-and-coming generation is trying to get across, is that the time for “Tolerance” is over. WHY must we tolerate such ignorance to be heard? What’s wrong with standing up for truth and good sense, facts and logic, by saying “Shut the fuck up and get the fuck out!” to Coulter?

 It’s not like people want Coulter silenced just because of a different view or opinion. This is becoming about chronic and delusional liars and people on the take from rich donors trying to spread misinformation being allowed to craft their “Alternative Facts” and spread them around. This is about taking a stand against BULLSHIT. This is all about saying “No More!” Screw this misconception of Free Speech and Tolerance. The political Right NEVER gives the Left the same courtesy EVER. So why continue to demonstrate tolerance for them? As Clifton brings up, this brings into the equation the preparations needed for life in one’s future. What about standing up for yourself? What about taking a stand against those who’d rather do harm to our nation for a buck or two, as opposed to “tolerating” what it is that they’re doing? What about protecting what YOU hold dear; things like truth in reporting, truth in representation instead of representing corporate interests? What about doing anything you can, peacefully, to stamp out the hateful and ignorant rhetoric of those who undermine our nation’s rapidly fading democracy?

 Shafting Coulter, in my view, is a great way to begin. Shutting down bullshit “news” shows like FOX Noise and the like and holding pundits and media accountable for accuracy and factual reporting is a must, while keeping the liars and nut-jobs from getting their voices heard on public campuses and on public media. I’m all for letting these assholes have their say, but they can go out of their way and work for it. Let them start their own private YouTube accounts and start a Facebook page or, as is more “presidential” it seems, go with Twitter. They’ll have their followers, no matter what is done, but by sending the message that their vitriol and utter fuckery will no longer be tolerated in institutions of LEARNING, where FACTS are important and under constant scrutiny, this is a key factor if we’re going to recover and get out of the deep hole we’ve dug ourselves into as a nation. Exercising our right to declare that we WILL NOT TOLERATE such behavior to me seems like a rational and mature approach to people like Coulter. We certainly treat children that way, why not adults? We reprimand children when they spread lies and do bad things. Why do adults get a pass? You know damn well that the GOP condemns and witch hunts anything the Left does. It’s time to do a little “back atcha!” and deal with them in ways they’ll understand. If that means exercising OUR right to shut them down, then let’s DO that. Let’s do it with dignity and respect, yet with passion and fury. Let’s stop being so fucking polite, and certainly let’s stop the “politically correct” approach. It isn’t working. Enough with worrying about offending everyone. 

You’re offended? So fucking what? Enough with the “snowflake” attitudes and safe spaces. Those who are shit-canning the Republic, Democracy, and the Constitution itself certainly are NOT afraid of offending anyone. In fact, they’re reveling in it every time some spineless Leftist cries about something the Right does, yet that’s all they do- cry about it. This is why Trump and his supporters laugh at Democrats, Liberals, and Progressives. It’s because all they do is bitch and moan. Perhaps if they showed up at the polls last November, we wouldn’t be in a rapidly sinking ship where only 1st Class passengers get lifeboats lined with gold while the rest of us are left to drown. Enough with TOLERATING bullshit. It’s time to call it out, and call it what it is. BULLSHIT.

 The paradox to all of this is that you can’t reason with the likes of Coulter or Trump’s supporters. If you do NOTHING, they’ll continue on doing all sorts of damage and they’ll think it’s perfectly accepted, normal, and just fine. It’s like you’re giving them permission.

 If you attempt to interact with them on some level (like debate, present them with facts and evidence to support why they’re so wrong etc.) then these vermin double down like a tick. They become combative and even violent.

 So paradoxically, if we want this kind of woman (the Anne Coulters, the Kellyann Conways, the Sarah Palins, the Michelle Bachmanns) and this kind of man (the Trumps, the Spicers, the Bill O’Reillys, the Alex Joneses, the Pat Robertsons and the Ken Hams) to get the message that we’re done with them creating a harmful environment, both mentally and physically, then what we’re left with is the option of putting things in THEIR terms. If that means cock-blocking them at the gates, slamming doors in their faces, and shouting at them to shut the fuck up, then so be it. We have to speak THEIR language to get the message through that we will NOT TOLERATE their ignorance, their racism, their misogyny, their homophobia, their xenophobia, their bigotry, their just being an all around selfish piece of shit. We DO have to stoop to their level to get them to understand, because not unlike talking to little children, you HAVE to. Children don’t understand things that get too complicated for them, so you have to dumb down things for them in simple, “A, B, C, D…” sorts of ways. This doesn’t make you a child, but you have to think and act like one to interact with them and get your point across to them. If acting out like these ignorant and belligerent “conservatives” is what gets them to shut up and perhaps, just maybe, LEARN something, then that’s all we’re left with, ESPECIALLY when it comes to the sanctity of our institutions of learning. 

These asshats my have the liberty of spewing their mental venom in a church, calling it some message of Jesus, but they DO NOT get to push their propaganda off as dogma in SCHOOLS. Picketing and barring these jerksocks from the doors of education should be a major priority, and I support the students who barred Coulter from Berkeley. Freedom of Speech is NOT a right that extends past the government versus the citizen. As far as I can tell, the students spoke. They got off their asses and charged to the gates to protect their institution from the infection of what can only be seen as “anti-education” and I applaud them for it. 

Moreover, it’s time to stop treating Millennials as if THEY are the problem here. They are reacting to a world left to them by Generation X and the Baby Boomers. This token-trophy world they’ve been handed has only conveyed that there’s no point in trying because no matter how much effort you apply, everyone gets the same reward. They DO NOT LIKE IT. They’re fighting back the best they can, and what makes the Gen-Xers and the Boomers talk smack about them is the simple fact that they’re the ones the Millennials are protesting against for handing them a world much shittier than the one they had before them. They KNOW that the way things are going now it’s only a matter of time before they experience their own KENT STATE MASSACRE.