watching to see the fallout

Tell Republicans who voted for the AHCA: We’ll remember

Republicans just passed a health care law that would take health insurance from 24 million people, raise costs on seniors, poor people and sick people, and give the super wealthy an enormous tax break.

We can still stop it in the Senate. But before you call your Senators, if you had a Republican rep who voted for this monstrosity, take a few minutes and call them. Yell at them for voting for a bill without even waiting for a CBO score to show how many of their constituents it would impact and without any debate. Let them know that you’ll remember this in 2018. Republicans in the Senate - and the House, when it comes back for reconciliation - will be watching to see what kind of fallout this vote causes. Make sure they feel it.

Script: “Hi, I’m [your name] and I’m a constituent from [your town.] I’m calling to say that I’m furious that Representative So and So voted for the American Health Care Act without even waiting for a CBO score to find out how people in [his or her] district would be impacted. This is going to effect millions of people’s health and it’s absolutely shameful that Rep. So-and-so voted to force it through with no debate or hearings. I’ll be voting against Rep. So-and-so in November for this vote and I’m going to encourage my friends and neighbors to do the same.”

WWE Made The Right Call At The Women’s Money In The Bank Match

-Everyone talking about the women’s MITB match more than almost anything else in wrestling this week?  Check

-Everyone couldn’t wait to watch Smackdown to see the fallout? Check

-Everyone is now jacked to see the rematch on Smackdown next week? Check

-The women’s division is basically the main story on Smackdown right now?  Check

-Carmella and Ellsworth now have uber heel status? Check

But forget all that, let’s just call WWE sexist assholes for having a heel woman win the match using her heel valet.   I’m sorry but I think the smarks all totally got worked on this one.  This is like Roman Reigns entering the Royal Rumble at #30, thereby tricking the crowd into cheering frigging Randy Orton winning the rumble.

The women’s division is going to have done TWO ladder matches in TWO weeks. And the crowd will be as amped for the second as they were for the first, if not more. And people are going to tune in to see it.   Give the crowd a short term heel win to rile them up, then set up for the long term payoff to hit a higher high. It’s almost like WWE is actually using…actual pro wrestling booking for once.

It took balls to stick with that finish and in retrospect I think they made the right call.

Now let’s see if they have the guts to have Carmella win AGAIN…. 

All this shit about Supergirl is exactly why I left and joined the Earper fandom!

I can’t believe what happened and it makes me so so upset that the cast acted this way. Screaming “THEY’RE ONLY FRIENDS” is completely overstepping because we knew that the writers would never have two wlw couples on their show. We KNEW it wouldn’t be canon, yet they felt inclined to mock the shippers. The Supercorp fandom did absolutely nothing to provoke this behavior and I’m still trying to wrap my head around why this happened. It’s 2017, if we want to ship two ladies together then leave it alone. The cast thought it was just a fun joke but the lgbt community is so sensitive and fragile over these things. What they did even sounds like they were shaming the supercorp shippers for fantasizing about two women being together. It’s so wrong and I’m so sorry if anyone felt really hurt by this situation. If you want a show where the cast openly talks about the lesbian couple and respects it in the show, please watch Wynonna Earp. I’m still going to watch Supergirl to see the fallout of Sanvers, but ultimately I am devoted to Wynonna Earp because it has everything that Supergirl has and better. Please don’t attack me guys, I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t watch but I wanted to recommend the show to anyone who was seriously hurt my the recent events. I understand if you don’t want to watch, but I promise you that you will pleasantly surprised in the long run. The Earper fandom will welcome you with loving arms❤️

Originally posted by lauraholliis

But you know at some point in the “only friends?” “ I have been having more impure thoughts lately” part of Sole and Hancock’s relationship that 60 Minute Man comes on and Hancock mutters “Sixty Minutes? Amateur,” just loud enough for Sole to hear so he can see their reaction.

Go back to 2012. 5 years ago, a lot of stuff has happened right? Remember that little song “Eyes Open” how it was lyrically beautiful, now play it and think about or play the “Look What You Made Me Do” MV on silent. Does the Met Gala Taylor have her eyes open while being buried? Was the RED Taylor too much? Was Fearless Taylor insecurely brave to speak the truth? “They never thought you’d make it this far” “Everybody’s waiting for you to breakdown” “Everybody’s watching to see the fallout”

Song ABC - E is for Eyes Open by Taylor Swift
ft. Shingeki no Kyojin
  Everybody's waiting for you to break down
Everybody's watching to see the fallout

allenting  asked:

I know you already have a lot of au requests but can you add linstead + a dog to the list 🙏🏽🙏🏽


Most of #2 is an actual thing and I only fictionalized a little bit of it. You might recognize Foxtrot from a previous AU featuring Erin as an MWD handler. Also, oops they’re kind of long.


Jay has to keep himself from breaking out into a run even though his gut churns with fear, his gun and flashlight raised as he searches the river walk for Erin. They’d split ways up at the path’s start, having spotted a shady figure headed down this direction and not wanting to lose the opportunity to stop the recent flush of violent assaults, but he’d tried to key Erin on his radio a few minutes ago only to receive silence in return. The fact that Voight will keelhaul him for losing his partner aside and that Erin can take care of herself, Jay bites back a curse when he calls out for her again and gets no answer. Come on, Erin, don’t do this to me. He’s getting to the point of radioing for backup, when he’s paced another half mile and still not spotted her, when a deep, resounding bark catches his attention. Jay only hesitates a moment before finding the nearest staircase leading down to the muddy riverbank. Attention flitting from point to point, he strobes the area ahead with his bright flashlight, uncaring of what the thick mud will do to his boots and focusing on getting to where the dog continues to bay, unceasing. It takes Jay a moment to spot the animal because it is as dirty as its surroundings and the rest of it is black. The Newfoundland stands beside Jay’s partner, finally falling silent and its ears perk at his approach. Erin is unconscious, bloodied, and soaked, but her pulse beats against his fingertips when Jay rolls her over to make sure she’s still alive. A shaky breath leaves him as he pulls Erin up so he can wrap an arm around her shoulders and get her out of the mud. Checking to make sure that she isn’t injured, running his hands down her limbs, checking her torso and then pushing his fingers along her scalp, Jay then radios for back-up—“Antonio, I’m beside the river with Erin down near Telegraph Road. Something happened, she’s unconscious.” Once the confirmation comes, he turns his attention to the dog and that’s when he finally puts the pieces together. Erin’s positioning when he’d arrived, the dog also dripping with water from it’s long fur—“You saved her life, buddy.” The Newfie gives an appreciative woof when Jay reaches to scratch his head, dismissing the concern of wet dog smell (they’re all going to smell like wet dogs before this night is done) and an exhausted laugh leaves him, because it’s 2am, there’s a suspect still on the loose, and a stray dog just saved his partner’s life. Erin comes to as Jay and Antonio are easing her up the narrow ladder to level ground, Ruzek having been sent to wave down the ambulance. For the first time, Jay doesn’t insist on going to the hospital with her, asking Antonio to go instead, because he’s not just going to leave the dog there. It takes half an hour to find an easy way up for the lumbering animal who takes to Jay’s side like he’s been there his whole life. Erin’s reaction a week later when Jay calls her to meet him at the front of the district is understandable. “No. Jay, no, we don’t need a dog and especially not one that could wipe out a grown man just by wagging its tail!” But Murphy meanders over to bump against her legs and nudge at Erin’s hand with his wet nose while Jay explains that no one’s claimed him and “Can we just give it a try, Erin? He saved your life, I think we owe it to him to save his.” Erin looks from one set of pleading eyes to the other and can’t say no. Jay will lay on the floor and let Murphy rest his head on his chest while he naps the Sunday afternoons away and even though Erin hates the drool marks on the walls, puddled on the floor, in her lap, there’s a week where Jay is gone and Murphy is there when a storm rolls through Chicago, all booming thunder and cracks of lightning. Erin finds sleep on the couch with her hand buried in thick hair.


To say that Erin is miffed that Jay is almost forty-five minutes late to their breakfast date is an understatement. It’s been a crazy month, like always around Christmas when families are either made or broken, and they take whatever time away from the caseload that they can. Her third cup of coffee is getting cold and she’s picked apart her pastry when he finally shows. Erin opens her mouth to remind him of the original breakfast time, but gets stopped in her tracks by the unsettling seriousness in his eyes as Jay eases down into the booth. Reaching across the table to grasp Jay’s cold fingers with her own, she questions, “What is it? You look spooked.” He hesitates long enough that Erin’s nervous but then steadies, focusing on her as he clears his throat. “Erin, when you went—AWOL, last year, it—wasn’t easy on our end easy. I had a lot of trouble with it and needed something else to focus on.” And it’s hard not to flinch at the reminder, even though they’ve hashed and rehashed the issue more times than Erin remembers. She nods to encourage him on though and doesn’t anticipate what comes next. “I learned about the program while I was in the Army, but there’s a way to adopt retired working dogs, MWD’s, and during those three weeks I did the paperwork and submitted. I’d forgotten about it until they called this morning to say they’ve got a dog, if I still want her.” Stop, rewind, play. Erin blinks at him then asks her partner to dumb it down just a little more and Jay lays out that there is an MWD at Lackland AFB in Texas, waiting for Jay to come and pick her up if that’s what he decides. It’s a lot to take in and they’re due at the district, but Erin finds questions to ask later driving between interviews, leads, and the district. How much does it cost, is Jay’s new place big enough for a dog, is he ready for a dog, what types of issues will an MWD have—her partner answers each one to the best of his ability but doesn’t give away a lot about where he is on the matter so Erin pulls them out of traffic, parking halfway up a curb to turn and look him in the eye, and that’s when Jay admits, “I really want to bring her home, Erin.” Jay takes leave the next day, leaving on Friday and not returning until Tuesday of the following week. Erin meets him coming off the plane and bears up his weight when he enfolds her in a hug, a long breath leaving him—of relief, of safety—to have her in his arms again. It surprises Erin to realize that Jay is nervous as they wait outside the office to pick up his dog from the airline. He relays that the MWD is a Belgian Malinois—not a small breed—and that her name is Foxtrot, and then settles into silence, shifting on his feet and gaze flicking to and fro. She’s not put-out though. This is Jay and the things that get to him, that trip him up on old memories, are the hardest for him to share. If nothing is forthcoming in the next day or two, Erin will attempt to ease it out of him. Stepping to his side, she settles her chin on his shoulder, just glad he’s home. It’s a few minutes later that the airline employee rolls the crate out of the back and the inhabitant is disturbingly quiet to Erin, but Jay is already moving to crouch before the crate. Arms crossed over her chest, Erin stands back to just watch this interaction, to try and get a fix on where her partner’s head is. His voice is low and smooth as he undoes the small locks keeping the crate closed. “How was your flight, girl? Hang in there, we’ll get outside in a minute.” The first thing to emerge is a nose, and the next defining feature that Erin notes is ears almost too big that twitch to take in every noise of the bustle of O'Hare. Foxtrot sniffs at Jay’s face, glances at Erin, then goes into what Erin later labels “sentry mode”, watching their surroundings with a surprising focus. Their introduction is underwhelming—Jay clicks his tongue, Foxtrot sniffs at Erin’s extended fingers, and doesn’t move from Jay’s side. Late that night, listening to the whuffling sigh of the canine in the living room and with her forehead pressed between his shoulder blades, Erin whispers and wants to know why. His rough hands curl around hers. “Because they’re heroes too, Erin. I can’t tell you how many times an MWD saved our lives over there and they don’t deserve to be put down for the same scars that soldiers get treated for.” Erin learns quickly to announce herself before actually entering the house in the first three weeks of coexistence while Foxtrot gets used to her coming and going at odd hours. But then they settle into a routine, one aided by Erin just giving up and moving in with Jay because she’s sick of the cross-town drive and that she’s still kidding herself to think that this won’t be permanent. Jay gets up in the mornings to go running and takes Foxtrot with him and Erin grows to love getting home late and being greeted by Foxtrot pricked ears and nosing around her clothes to make sure she’s not injured. (Erin has never seen a dog freak out before but she did when Jay came home with a side wound from a knife and still smelling like blood.) Foxtrot is almost too good of a guard dog, whimpers and snarls her way through storms, but she also jumps up on the bed on Saturday mornings when they’re trying to sleep in and noses her way between Erin and Jay to settle down and wait for them… for about twenty minutes, then she nudges Jay and licks Erin’s face until they’re awake.


The box sitting near the entrance of the 21st District sets Erin’s instincts on edge. She checks the area for anyone watching, waiting to see potential fallout before approaching. Her hand is inches away from the top flap when the box whimpers. Definitely not a bomb. Still wary but less so than before, she eases open the cardboard prison to reveal a dog that could fit in both her hands, huddled beneath a tattered hand towel and it looks up at her with mournful eyes. Erin hesitates. She recognizes it as a French Bulldog—Bunny had had one for a couple of months when Erin was twelve—but this white-haired creature holds no resemblance to the ill-tempered demon from her youth. With a sigh, she takes it inside with her to determine what to do with the little dog. Their arrival into the bullpen gets quite a bit of attention and Jay takes one look in the box before saying “Babe, I don’t know what your plan is, but a real dog is something that could fetch at least a toothpick and not fall over.” Erin won’t admit later that she keeps Frank in part to spite her partner, because she really does fall in love with the keen interest and affectionate nature of the Frenchie. Jay resists for all of a month then Erin comes home early one morning after a night out on a case with Hank to find her lover still asleep—and with her bulldog curled up on his chest. The picture she takes is definitely for posterity. She would never stoop to blackmail. Frank—Jay will never stop complaining about the choice in name—becomes a loyal companion to them both, scurrying around Jay’s feet while he’s cooking after stealing his socks from the drawer and settling at Erin’s side when she sits on the couch after a long day, but only after kidnapping her underwear from the bathroom while she was showering.


Neither of them are even sure how they ended up saddled with an adolescent Siberian Husky. Seriously. One day they were free and clear when Erin got a frantic phone call from a friend who needed a favor and the next Jay stands in the living room of his apartment, surveying the extent of the damage. Maverick barely affords him a glance, in the midst of chewing on—one of Erin’s tennis shoes. Erin grabs the keys to go buy a dog crate while Jay preps to take Maverick out for a long run to burn off at least a portion of his boundless energy. Well-trained, my ass. They survive a week with an escape-artist dog that loves to chew on everything in sight and that’s when the call comes in that Erin’s friend is gone, she won’t be coming back, and that they should just take Maverick to the pound or have him put down. Despite how many single shoes she’s lost in the past seven days, Erin balks and Jay is in a similar state when she relays the message to him. It’s still not easy to make the decision to keep him. They’re busy with work which means paying someone to come walk him throughout the day, both of their apartments are too small for a dog of his energy levels, but the reality is that he’s unlikely to get adopted in a city like Chicago where apartment living is the norm and they won’t just put him down. Erin pinches the bridge of her nose and mumbles, “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.” Getting Maverick trained up is not easy feat—Saturday morning obedience classes for six months, constant work throughout the week—but just when they think they’re about to lose their minds, he starts listening. Erin takes her shower and doesn’t worry about what chaos is being wrought in the meantime while Jay doesn’t feel the necessity to turn them around from a date if he left the garbage in the apartment. Maverick is always a handful, but he’s their handful and they make it work.


Erin and Jay are on their way back to Chicago from Des Moines, having been the lucky winners from their district to get an all-expenses-paid road trip down to Kansas for a police department security briefing. It’s January so there’s wind howling around the car and snow obscuring their vision as Jay takes them down the highway at a moderate pace—after nearly spinning out twice with Erin’s driving, they’d swapped seats. They’ve just passed a small town when Erin, staring out the car window in mind-numbing boredom, spots a golden-orange splotch of color amongst the white-and-gray snow pile up alongside the road. Calling for Jay to stop—any reason to get out of the car, now—Erin waits until he complies to carefully get out and trot back down to where she’d seen the patch of brightness. The Golden Retriever is collapsed in the ditch, panting for breath, and Erin shouts for Jay, who’s leaning against the 300 and waiting for her, to come give her a hand. The old dog is feeble and frail, lifted easily between them, and Erin sits in the backseat with her while Jay gets them back to the last town where they’re fortunate enough to find a veterinarian’s office on the outskirts. Jay eases the dog onto the exam table while Erin stands by, turning her wedding band on her finger when the doctor begins checking the stray for injury. Jay catches her elbow and her attention, asking in a low murmur if she wants to stay the night—it’s late enough. The decision isn’t hard; there’s no telling what will happen with the Retriever and Erin isn’t going to just abandon her. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Can you call Hank?” Jay’s assent comes as a brief kiss to her lips and a reassuring smile. The wait to hear about the old beauty’s chances after being out alone in the cold for so long is excruciating, for reasons Erin can’t determine but can’t deny at the same time. When the doctor leaves to run some tests, Erin goes to cradle the dog’s head, whispering comfort and stroking the graying fur around gentle eyes. Jay comes back and draws a hand along her back and then settling it around her waist, a silent support as they await word. They’re told a short time later that there’s no missing alert for this dog and that it’s uncertain whether she’ll even last the night. Jay and Erin spend the night in a small motel room with her curled into his side, trying to make sense of the attachment but just coming up with, “I can’t leave her here to die, Jay.” And he kisses the side of her head, breathing in deep. “I get it.” Lacy—the name Erin had decided upon over a quick breakfast—is waiting when they return to the vet’s office at 8AM sharp, her tail thumping against the large kennel when she sees them. The nurse smiles and the doctor chuckles at the reaction, explaining how down Lacy has been since they checked on her this morning. With virtually no paperwork to speak of besides a handful of bills, the duo are back on the road to Chicago by midmorning with vitamin supplements and some pain killers for Lacy who falls asleep on the backseat almost as soon as they’re on the road. The vet’s age estimate was somewhere from ten to twelve years old—not a young dog by any means but Erin wants her anyways. Their whole unit is a little worn, a little broken. Lacy will fit right in with them. They find a vet in short order when they get home, learning what they should do to care for Lacy. After that, a routine is easy to get into. Lacy is old and relatively low maintenance, content to sit at their feet with a whuffling sigh. They take to long walks in the evenings, Lacy ambling between them and children running over to beg to pet her becomes a regular occurrence. Erin knows they won’t have her for long, but she watches Jay wrangle with their dog, a rope toy between them, and she’s happy.

Musings on Madam Secretary 2.01

My ramblings on Madam Secretary, even though you didn’t ask. Obviously, spoilers ahead.

IT’S FINALLY BACK! OK. Now that I got that out of my system, let’s begin.

There’s a whole lotta Téa in Elizabeth this season, from her mannerisms to her subtle humor. She’s definitely more comfortable in the role and it shows. It felt like refreshed, Hiatus Elizabeth came out to play. Stay a while, please.

“Perry, is it? I think it’s best we don’t talk.” And with that, Henry McCord dropped his first mic of the night. I realize many are in this show for Elizabeth, and she’s forever my Number 1, but I love Henry’s role, too. Tim plays Henry so well: the philosophical professor, the ethical informant, the loving father, the hot husband, the hot husband, the hot husband. Yeah, I’m shallow. Moving on.

Speaking of Henry and Elizabeth, I don’t have enough time nor space to write about how much I admire their relationship being played on TV. They fight, they disagree, they make up, but they’re united and they’re each other’s touchstones. That was most apparent when Elizabeth melted in momentary relief in Henry’s arms for their 30-second moment together in the White House.

The McCords are together again and all is right in the world. They’re like that old cozy sweater that has a few tiny flaws, but you could never throw away. A comfy blanket on a cool night. Hot chocolate when it’s snowing outside. A sleeping puppy. They just make your heart explode with care, even when they’re fighting. I’m starting a petition for an entire episode of only the McCords on lockdown in their home. Make it happen, universe.

Russell. He makes me want to dropkick him into next Tuesday, but I love his relationship with Elizabeth. Deep down he cares for her and even, dare I say, relies on her. Case in point: when Senator Gates went coo coo for cocoa puffs, Russell immediately turned to Elizabeth, who then stepped in with the deciding factor to determine the Senator’s sanity. He may get his panties in a wad, but he trusts her. Just don’t tell his ego.

Jill Hennessy. *pats couch cushion* Take your coat off, have a seat, can I get you a coffee? I like you.

The Dalton Administration needs to stop using official planes and look into Priceline or Orbitz. Virgin is a delightful airline.

Elizabeth refusing to sit at or touch the President’s desk is a comedy routine I could watch all night.

The scene when Daisy tries to reassure Elizabeth by saying, “I’m sure you’re better than you think” and Elizabeth responds, “That’s your plan?” was awfully reminiscent of Téa’s SAG interview when she described asking David for advice memorizing lines. We’ve come full circle.

As much as I despise the thought of President McCord for any stretch of time longer than a few hours, I didn’t miss Conrad. But, you know, glad you didn’t crash and all that jazz.

The musical number was simply perfection. Barbara Hall, you’ve outdone yourself, and that’s hard to do with everything you’ve graced us with thus far. Also, more smiling Nadine, please. Bebe just radiates.

Stevie. Oh, Stevie. Just… don’t get pregnant.

Thoughts about this season:

I’m interested to see how their jobs will affect Henry and Elizabeth’s relationship. It seems like there are some landmines planted ahead. The fun part as a fan is knowing they’ll actually play these scenes out instead of simply jumping to divorce by mid-season.

What will Craig Sterling bring to the table, and why did Conrad hire him? Is Conrad being played? Is he being blackmailed? Is he just stupid? Wait. Don’t answer that.

I’m a little leery of the whole “Air Force One being tampered with” situation. I just don’t want another season-long storyline arc of trying to figure out who’s trying to kill members of the Dalton Administration. Although, in Barbara Hall, we trust.

Go ahead and take away my fan card, but I want to see Elizabeth fail at something. I’m not talking nuclear disaster or world implosion. I just want something to not work out the way she and her team planned. It was fun watching the behind-the-scenes wrangling in Season 1, but I’d enjoy seeing the fallout from her not being successful, specifically the guilt and personal feelings she’d have to work through.

This show has heart, drama, comedy and humanity. Other shows, taken note. 2.01 was a very strong start to what’s sure to be a fabulous sophomore year. Let’s do this.

Watch on
@CM_SetReport #criminalminds fans! We’re watching 9x24 right now. Can’t wait for you guys to see it! #fallout #breathe