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somethingusefulfromflorida · 3 years

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1960: John F. Kennedy/Lyndon B. Johnson vs Richard Nixon/Henry Cabot Lodge Jr.

1964: Lyndon B. Johnson/Hubert Humphrey vs Barry Goldwater/William E. Miller

1968: Richard Nixon/Spiro Agnew vs Hubert Humphrey/Edmund Muskie vs George Wallace/Curtis Lemay

1972: Richard Nixon/Spiro Agnew vs George McGovern/Sargent Shriver

1976: Jimmy Carter/Walter Mondale vs Gerald Ford/Bob Dole

1980: Ronald Reagan/George H.W. Bush vs Jimmy Carter/Walter Mondale

1984: Ronald Reagan/George H.W. Bush vs Walter Mondale/Geraldine Ferraro

1988: George H.W. Bush/Dan Quayle vs Michael Dukakis/Lloyd Bentsen

1992: Bill Clinton/Al Gore vs George H.W. Bush/Dan Quayle vs Ross Perot/James Stockdale

1996: Bill Clinton/Al Gore vs Bob Dole/Jack Kemp vs Ross Perot/Pat Choate

2000: George W. Bush/Dick Cheney vs Al Gore/Joe Lieberman

2004: George W. Bush/Dick Cheney vs John Kerry/John Edwards

2008: Barack Obama/Joe Biden vs John McCain/Sarah Palin

2012: Barack Obama/Joe Biden vs Mitt Romney/Paul Ryan

2016: Donald Trump/Mike Pence vs Hillary Clinton/Tim Kaine

2020: Joe Biden/Kamala Harris vs Donald Trump/Mike Pence

The same candidates tend to show up year after year. Not just President running for re-election, but Vice Presidents running for the top slot themselves, incumbents or candidates, successful or not; Richard Nixon (1952, 1956, 1960, 1968), Hubert Humphrey (1964, 1968), Walter Mondale (1976, 1980), Bob Dole (1976, 1996), Al Gore (1992, 1996, 2000)

I would expect John Edwards (D-2004) to try and make a comeback, though he was only a one term senator from North Carolina, so that’s looking increasingly unlikely. The state swung for Obama in 2008, but hasn’t voted blue since (except for governor, but he has no power because the Republicans control the state legislature)

Paul Ryan (R-2012) will be back for sure; he retired from the House in part over of disagreements with Trump, but one doesn’t just give up being Speaker and slink away into obscurity (just look at Newt Gingrich, he refuses to shut up or die), so I think Ryan is just biding his time and hoping the whole Trump thing blows over in the next decade. If the party shifts away from Trump, he might offer himself as a slightly more moderate (“moderate*”) alternative.

Or maybe Sarah Palin (R-2008) will try and reclaim the presidency for herself; she’s a hardcore right wing nutjob, she was a Bush supporter AND a Trump supporter, and she’s still relatively young, so I could see her stepping back into the spotlight to try and “being the country back” to the traditionalism of the early 2000s. Nostalgia is cyclical, so I figure around 2028 or 2032 people will start looking back fondly on the Clinton and Bush years (Clinton more so than Bush, what with 9/11 and the wars and such)

Tim Kaine isn’t even one of the famous senators; there are some senators that everybody knows, even if they’re not from your state, like Chuck Schumer, Joe Manchin, Lindsey Graham, Bitch McConnell, big names with big reputations. Tim Kaine is a nobody, just a bland and inoffensive white dude Clinton picked to be as uncontroversial as possible (she couldn’t pick a woman or a black person because then the ticket would have been “too diverse”). He’s not the future of the Democratic party, but I could see him trying to become part of the Senate leadership. Maybe the whip (vice leader), I don’t think he has what it takes to be leader outright.

I don’t think Mitt Romney (R-2012) will run for president again; that ship has sailed. Moderate Republicans are critically endangered, extinct in the wild, with single specimens in captivity (in Vermont, Massachusetts, and Maryland). After back-to-back losses in 2008 and 2012, I don’t think Republicans will run a moderate candidate ever again. Romney could maybe just maybe become the whip if he so desired, he’s a big enough name with support enough to become their presidential nominee, though he’ll never be the leader; McConnell was their golden goose, he gave hem exactly what they wanted and changed the game to give them an advantage even in minority. They will only ever elect hardliners like him from now on. Romney is too soft; he cares too much about the other side (he’s not liberal by any stretch of the imagination, he’s a Mormon for Brigham’s sake, but he voted to impeach Trump twice which means he may as well be a liberal in the eyes of the public)

Mike Pence has committed political suicide. Democrats hate him for his homophobia, sexism, racism, classism, and weird relationship with his wife who he calls “mother.” Republicans hate him because he didn’t break the law to re-elect Trump. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t. He’s ultraconservative and super religious, so under normal circumstances he’d be a shoo-in for the nomination, but after breaking with Trump in January he’s dead in the water (he didn’t even really break away, there was literally nothing legal he could do; if he had tried anything it would have been struck down by the courts). And besides that, Pence is boring as hell. He’s milquetoast, he’s a saltine cracker without the salt because it’s too spicy, he orders plain hamburgers with ketchup on the side, all his steaks are cooked well done, he gets a boner when he sees a woman’s ankle and has to self-flagellate for penance, he sends back water if it has too much ice because it makes his teeth hurt. He’s the sacrificial lamb they’d nominate specifically to lose so they can save a stronger candidate for later when there’s no incumbent.

Kamala Harris is basically president-in-waiting (or rather nominee-in-waiting; who knows if she can actually win?) Biden ran on the unspoken promise that he would step down in 2024, making her the front runner, but he has recently walked this back and says he plans on running for a second term himself, pushing Kamala back until 2028 at least. She has good PR and has convinced half the country that she’s a progressive instead of a cop, so if she runs she’ll definitely have an edge over Democratic challengers. The media picks the nominee, and in 24 or 28 they’ll pick her for sure.

It’s becoming increasingly harder for people to stay relevant over multiple decades. I can’t imagine any 2004 candidates running in 2024, but Bob Dole managed to get on as Ford’s #2 and come back as #1 himself twenty years later (he lost both times, but still). Richard Nixon beat the odds and actually got elected in 68 after losing the presidency in 60 and the governorship in 62; he was pretty much coasting on Eisenhower’s legacy, selling himself as the anti-Goldwater, who lost in 64 to LBJ in a landslide.

Trump is acting like he’s going to run again, but whether or not he’ll fully commit is up in the air. On the one hand, his least insane niece says that he doesn’t want to put himself in a position where he could lose again, his ego couldn’t take it, he’s so embarrassed he can’t even admit it happened the first time. On the other hand, he’s too proud to accept defeat and just let some other candidate take his spot as leader of the Republican Party; the Republicans haven’t had a leader since Eisenhower, every other president has disappeared after leaving office.

Nixon resigned in disgrace

Ford was elected out

Reagan disappeared in the 90s because he didn’t want the country to see him deteriorate from Alzheimer’s

Bush Sr was elected out

Bush Jr was despised with approval in the 20s (record low), and could potentially have been tried at The Hague if Obama had balls

Now Trump wants to stick around, even though he’s older than Reagan and FAR less healthy. He’ll probably be dead in 15 years anyway; no way he reaches 90. His mind may already be going, but unlike Reagan he isn’t self aware enough to know it, so he might try to stay in the spotlight even after the dementia sets in. Wo knows?

What his niece says, and what I think is most likely to happen, is that he will pretend like he’s running in order to scam donors out of millions of dollars to pay his exorbitant legal fees, but then bow out of the race before the primaries. Whichever candidate he personally endorses will become the nominee and go up against Biden. Biden will win the popular vote, but I don’t know if he’ll win the electoral college; if this happens for the third time in a quarter century, I expect nothing less than chaos in the streets, perhaps even civil war (well, I expected civil war after 2020, and we’re still standing, so again, who knows?). All I know is that congressional Democrats will throw a hissy fit but do nothing to stop the Republicans from sneaking their way into office without a mandate AGAIN.

The last Republican to legitimately win the presidency was George Bush Sr in 1988. Jr lost to Gore, and only got re-elected in 2004 because he invaded Iraq the year prior. Democrats have won 7 of the last 8 elections, including the last 4 in a row. There are more Democrats and left-leaning independents than Republicans and right-leaners. If the Republicans lose-but-win AGAIN, I don’t think the county could take it; there would be phony calls for secession on TV and legitimate whispers behind the scenes, there would be lawsuits, there would be an even bigger assault on the Capitol than January 6, people would riot, the National Guard would attack brown people with impunity while peacefully corralling the white ones with shields and loudspeakers.

There hasn’t been an assassination since 1963, and no assassination attempt resulting in injury since 1981. Someone threw a grenade at Bush Jr in 2005, but they wrapped a handkerchief around it so the lever didn’t release. I think multiple politicians on both sides of the aisle might be targeted in the event of another electoral college screw up.

Trump could face jail time for his tax crimes, though given his high profile I think he’d get off with a slap on the wrist. He has never faced consequences before, so why would they start now?

#politics #political #2024 #2024 election #2024 prediction #2024 presidential election #politicians #John Edwards #Sarah Palin #mitt romney #paul ryan #Mike pence #Kamala Harris #Donald Trump #Joe Biden #fuck trump #fuck donald trump #fuck Republicans

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

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RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 5 "Pumpkin Patch" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

The theme was "Let Them Eat Cake," so my dad bought me this foreclosed McMansion down the street, and, like, 500 of my closest friends came dressed in 18th century attire, and, oh, the pool was filled with this, like, caviar slurry. And then at midnight, we just burnt the house down. When the firefighters came, they were actually strippers, and they put out the fire with champagne.

So walk me through this, honey.

Well, as you can see, every pumpkin in the patch is artisanal.

Then we move past the ice sculptures of demonic peeing cherubs, and yes, they will all be peeing vodka and Red Bull.

I'm sorry. Corn maze?

It's just that doing an exact replica maze from The Shining would have taken us way over budget on man power alone.

I told you money was no object.

Well, apparently, one of them died or something.

Do you have any idea what's at stake here?

Okay, well, it's not my fault that some guy died in the '70s.

I am tired of your sad-sack, I'm-a-total-downer-all-the-time schtick.

I'm over it!

Oh, my God, why are you so depressed?

Why do I have to be the homely one?

Just a second, nutbag.

God, do I have to spell it out for you?

You're a weird, psycho lunatic who's gonna end up in an asylum somewhere, staring at a wall, trying to nurse a watering can.

That's it! I can't take this anymore!

That is such a Mary Todd Lincoln thing to say.

You scream "I'm done with you" kind of a lot, and yet you're still standing here.

I think you know you have a good thing going.

You get to bask in my starlight as I do all the work and you get to grumble behind my back about how disrespected you are.

There's the door.

There's the door, bitch!

You did not deserve to be spoken to like that. Ever.

That is bollocks!

Clearly this fake kidnapping is a play to get the sympathy vote. So Gone Girl.

This is the biggest candle night of the year!

I hate you right now!

Halloween is the greatest night of the year. Greatest night. Because on this night, even kind of shy, kind of homely girls dress up like total sluts. I mean, every costume is just a slutty version of something. Slutty teacher, slutty nurse, slutty nun. I saw a girl last year dressed as slutty al-Qaeda!

See, Halloween it's a night for dudes with killer bods to walk around with our shirts off. And it's totally appropriate, as long as we call ourselves gladiators, Chippendales.

I have no idea how you got into this college.

Look, we'll just hang out and play charades!

This cannot be happening!

Hey, what about Black Hairy Tongue Disease? I mean, does nobody here care about Black Hairy Tongue?

What about my pumpkin patch?

I blame you for this.

[NAME], nice boobs.

Join me in saying you are not afraid!

Just baking some cookies for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

Uh, they're toenail cookies.

Pink fur coats worn in all weather, my idea. Flapper dresses made out of feathers, also my idea. Oversized sunglasses worn everywhere, my idea, my idea, my idea!

So why are you baking toenail cookies and giving them to children?

Okay, whose side are you on?

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I'm what you call

a "switch-hitter."

Wait, are you bisexual? Because that's what "switch-hitter" means.

Do you mean "double agent"?

What are you writing?

Do you know how big Halloween is in the candle community?

Is this an ant farm?

There's a mom ant, Deborah, who mostly just lies around and she has about 100 husband ants, who come around and give it to her good, which she really enjoys. And then there's about a million sterile daughter ants who feed her and are her slaves. So, an ideal family.

She'd win. And then I'd beg to be her second-in-command, while quietly pull the strings behind the scenes like Dick Cheney.

This plan involves a lot of circuitous logic.

Oh, my God! Those are, like, $100 each!

They're the highest quality candles that can be purchased retail.

What a brilliant and revolutionary idea.

Are you cheating?

This is a clear violation of the honor code.

You must be new here.

Who are you calling?

I'm gonna get you fired.

At least you wore something nice today.

Remember to smile for your mug shot.

I'm burping uncontrollably like Robert Durst.

They'll know I'm guilty!

I'm next in line and in charge here.

You can sum up my viewpoint on this with one word; indifference.

We are her only hope.

Sometimes, in order for a person to achieve their full potential, they have to do things on their own.

I am in charge here!

I love that you're a man.

This is the most sensual song ever written.

We need to do this right now!

I just saw her boobs.

Oh, a salad date is, it's like, it's more casual than dinner, but more formal than coffee.

Whose pants are these?

You know, you're a human being with feelings and needs, right?

Enough about me and my confusion and sad dead feeling inside.

It just really hurt my feelings.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my so-called friends are the ones that turned me in so I'm just feeling, like, super alone right now.

Man, I am your biggest Instagram fan!

I just think you are a style genius.

I will never be able to repay you for the kindness you've shown me in here.

Besties for life, I say.

Your bail's been posted.

I knew you'd bail me out.

Can I just say what a relief it is to be able to share it with somebody and not feel judged?

You know, I mean, all my girlfriends are like, "That's immoral." "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Ashamed? What the hell you got to be ashamed for?

You should be proud.

I could've lost my job.

I mean, it lasted, like, 45 seconds, and the whole time, it just felt like I was getting stabbed in the abdomen.

I tied him up and I kept my uniform on and proceeded

to read him his rights. My favorite being "You got the right to remain sexy."

Give me some!

You know he's sexy!

That was one of the best nights of my life.

Well, I've already contacted the police department, despite the fact that a person can't be considered "missing" until at least 72 hours has passed.

That's morbid.

I've already hired an investigator.

What, are you two a couple now?

What the hell are you doing?

You sold me down the river, bitch.

Wait, Gary Coleman's parents stole his kidneys?

I would never say that, because I'm pretty sure that never even happened.

Why does ratting me out sound like exactly something you would do?

You know, I've never thought of myself as a killer, but I am seriously considering ramming this pick into the back of your eye socket.

Maybe you'll get your head sawed off.

You have cameras in my room?

I have eyes everywhere, bitch.

The name of my future perfume is Revenge.

How is that something you just happen to know?

That is stupidest thing I've ever heard.

What's the password?

I just can't eat any more of these.

This ain't The Marriage Ref! This ain't Judge Joe Brown! We ain't on the Maury Show! We ain't standin' in line trying to get tickets to Dr. Phil! I am not Steve Harvey, people, and this ain't the Family Feud!

I'm tryin' to catch a killer.

Help me get the spy gear in the car!

How can you promise?

We're in a maze, you don't know where you're going!

I always knew it would come to this.

Why are we doing this right now?

I forgot the flashlights!

What am I supposed to do with this?

This is so creepy.

It smell like booty in here.

I'm getting a nervous feeling in my stomach.

I might start farting. If I cut some, you promise not to tell anyone?

Oh, my boob!

Stay where you are! I'll come and get you!

Ooh, this is nice.

It's really beautiful.

It looks like you just crossed some stuff out and wrote that in in marker.

Okay, can we talk about that for a second? Because it just happened a few hours ago, and I'm still really traumatized.

I need some cheering up right now.

Excuse me, darling, I'm exhausted.

Wait, we need to hear what happened to you.

Just wondering where you find a house with a pit. The market for them would be pretty limited.

Did you escape, or did you kill him?

I've always had a thing for bad boys.

That got way out of hand.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #scream queens

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augustmoon259 · 3 years

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For I shall already have forgotten you CHAPTER 7: TRICK, OR TREAT?

Madeline wakes up and reaches for her phone laying on the nightstand. It’s 8 am. As her awareness returns to her, she sees Bucky and Kumarie playing together. Madeline’s lips quirk up as she gives both of them a quick pet on the head before going to start her day.

After brushing her teeth, Madeline heads to the kitchen. She expected to see Alfred there, as he had told her that he was an early riser. Contrary to Madeline’s expectations, Alfred was nowhere to be found. It had only been 20 minutes since she woke up, so Madeline decided to cook breakfast for her and Alfred.

Madeline wiped sweat off her forehead as she observed the results of her labor: fluffy pancakes topped with butter and maple syrup, crispy strips of bacon, wholesome fruit parfaits, and freshly made coffee. Madeline’s stomach growled, but it would have to wait until she found Alfred.

It was almost 9:30 now but still there was no sign of the house’s owner. Madeline surmised that Alfred was still sleeping in his room. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he had gone to sleep late because of her. Madeline made her way to Alfred’s room. She was just about to knock on his door when it opened from inside.

“Hey Maddie…” Alfred yawned as he greeted Madeline. “What’s up...? Is it morning time already....?”

“Oh! Yes! I was just about to wake you up actually. I made breakfast.”

Alfred seemed to be more alert after he heard her statement.

“Woah! You made breakfast?! Now I gotta hurry up and eat it!”

He rushes off, leaving Madeline feeling bemused. Alfred is already sitting at the dining table when she returns to the kitchen, making her wonder if he even took the time to brush his teeth.

As if he read her mind, Alfred beams as he remarks, “Don’t worry! I brushed my teeth! Now let’s dig in!”

Alfred grabs his fork and chews on a large bite of his pancakes. His eyes widen as he prepares to eat another.

“Wow, this tastes amazing! You’re a great cook Maddie!”

Madeline blushes as she plays with her food.

“No problem Al...Consider this thanks for helping me after my nightmare yesterday..."

There’s a gasp from Alfred as he momentarily stops eating.

“No way! You called me Al! You’ve been calling me Alfred up until now!”

“Well, yeah...You already call me Maddie, so I might as well call you by a nickname too, right?”

“Yay! Mission: Become Friends with Maddie has officially been completed!” Alfred stands up and does a short victory dance before sitting back down. “And you don’t have to worry about yesterday. That’s what friends do!”

Madeline’s heart felt light as she and Alfred continued to talk and enjoy breakfast together.

When they finished, Alfred was ready to start the day.

“Okay Maddie! You know the costume I asked you to get? You can go put it on now! We’re gonna be in costume all day!”

So Madeline went to do exactly that. Half an hour later, as she finished dressing herself, she examined her reflection in the mirror. Madeline had braided her hair into a pair of 3-strand braids, one on each side of her head. She wore an open-fronted gown which laced closed across a kirtle. The outer fabric matched the red of her bodice, while the rest was white. Madeline’s skirt went down to her mid-calf, underneath which she wore white leggings and black old-fashioned buckle shoes. To complete her look, she wore a long red hooded cloak and carried an empty wicker basket.

Satisfied with her appearance, Madeline made her way to Alfred’s room for the second time that day. As before, when she was prepared to knock, he startled her by opening the door first.

“Maddie! Can you guess what I am?”

Alfred wore pants that were tattered at the edges; his shirt was in a similar condition, frayed at the bottom. Alfred’s bright blonde hair was covered by a brown wig and his face obscured by a wolf mask. The upper half of his face could no longer be seen; Alfred’s cerulean eyes stared at her through his mask. A wolf pelt was thrown around his shoulders. Madeline spotted wolf ears on top of his head and a fluffy tail behind him.

“Hm...Are you...the Big Bad Wolf?”

“That’s right! I am! Isn’t it just great we ended up in matching costumes?”

“But Al, don’t you like heroes? The Big Bad Wolf isn’t exactly a hero..."

Alfred gives her a sly wink in return. “You’ll just have to find out why I chose this costume then, huh?”

He checks the time on his phone.

“Let’s see...It’s about eleven, so we have some time before our first stop of the day.” Alfred looks up and grins at her. “Do you want to visit my favorite cafe?”

The two of them had a great time visiting museums, going on scavenger hunts, taking pictures with others in costume, and more.

The highlight of Madeline’s day so far was the National Air and Space Museum. Alfred loved space, so it was unsurprising that he would take her there. Some of the Star Wars costumes impressed her, almost as much as the actual museum exhibitions themselves. They had taken a break afterwards to eat the food they had bought at the cafe: Halloween themed foods like bat tortilla chips with mango salsa, spider pizzas, pumpkin deviled eggs, etc.

Finally, it was time for the last event of the day, the Night of the Living Zoo at the Smithsonian National Zoological Park.

The zoo was decked out in Halloween decorations: lights, skeletons, witches, and cobwebs. There were a range of spectacular performances, from fire eaters to jugglers. Alfred and Madeline met dancing dinosaurs, Jessie and James from Team Rocket, and even had the chance to spectate a wedding (it wasn’t real of course).

Alfred was incredibly enthusiastic when they visited the animal exhibits.

“Maddie! Look! Caiman lizards! Sleeping on that rock! They’re super chilling, together! Buddies!”

“Oh hey, look at those turtles! It’s a turtle party! Turtle party, turtle party, who’s got the pizza for a turtle party?!”

“Look at this one! Hm, what’re they called? ...Rock hyrax? Nah, I’m calling him Mr. Cheeks...Oh no! Mr. Cheeks doesn’t look very happy with me!”

If the night had ended there, Madeline would have been satisfied. She didn’t know what could possibly top Alfred’s amusing commentary.

She and Alfred ended up in the crowd that was gathered around a stage. The stage, previously used for band performances and live karaoke, was now the platform for the last event of the night, the Halloween costume contest. The announcer explained that there were several categories, ranging from the “most unique” costume to “best duo”.

Unlike the other categories, wherein contestants would line up on stage and the audience could cast their vote for best costume, the duo category required a story. In other words, the duos have to create a short narrative and perform it in front of the audience. The “best duo” were judged not only on the originality of their costumes, but how well they performed together.

Madeline was extremely nervous. She knew that she and Alfred would be competing together, but not like this!

“Alfred, what do we do? We don’t have a story!”

“Maddie, it’s okay! I got a plan. All you have to do is act like your usual self.”

“But-”

“Trust me!”

Without his mask, Alfred’s puppy dog eyes, combined with his ears and tail, made Madeline capitulate.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Alfred smiled one of his enigmatic smiles and disappeared somewhere alone. Madeline wrung her hands together as other duos performed. She and Alfred were the last to go, and soon it would be their turn.

The announcement that it was now time for them to perform startled Madeline out of her trance. She was surprised to see the appearance of the stage. Projection technology had transformed it from a normal outdoor stage to a tranquil forest...and did she hear the sound of chirping birds? Buzzing insects, croaking frogs, and bubbling brooks?

Puzzled, but mustering up her courage, Madeline stepped out onto the stage. Reminding herself of the fairytales she grew up on, she pretended that she was Red Riding Hood herself. Madeline twirled her skirt and hummed. She pretended to walk and pick up flowers to place in her basket. She sat down and closed her eyes, as if resting underneath a tree.

With her eyes shut and the ambient noises of nature, Madeline could believe she was actually in a forest. There was no crowd watching her, just her and the trees.

Moments passed before she felt like something was...poking her face? Could it be Alfred? She jerked her eyes open and stared at what was disturbing her rest.

It was Alfred, but he was on all fours as he scrambled away from her. He put as much distance as he could between the two of them.

Madeline reached her hands out to stop him from escaping altogether.

“Wait! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m sorry!”

Alfred paused. He was growling softly and looked like he would run away again. Madeline approached him slowly, until she was close enough to touch him. She rested her hand on his head, and Alfred stopped growling.

Madeline lowered herself to give Alfred a hug. She felt the moment when Alfred hugged her back. She removed her arms to look at Alfred. He was no longer on all fours, but kneeling like her.

“Do you have a name?”

Alfred shook his head.

“Well, my name is Madeline. Do you mind if I call you Wolf?”

He nodded.

“Wolf, do you want to be friends?”

Alfred nods again.

“Alright Wolf. Since we’re friends, let’s not be afraid of each other, okay? Here, let me hug you again.”

So Madeline did. This time, Alfred accepted her hug readily.

“Friends care about each other. They show that they care about each other by doing things like that.”

As she was preparing to stand up, Alfred grabbed the hem of her skirt. Madeline watched as he dug his hands into one of his pants pockets to search for something. From Alfred’s pocket emerged a single yellow dandelion.

He offered the dandelion to her unsurely. She stared at it before clasping her hands around his to take it. Madeline placed it behind her right ear.

“Thank you Wolf. Now come on! Let’s explore the forest together.”

She held his hand as they left the stage.

They won the contest.

Madeline was happy they did, but after their performance, she had not stopped rambling and questioning Alfred. Did he plan all of this? How’d he know she’d react that way? Alfred would laugh and tell her that he “knew she could do it!”. She’d be mad at him for putting her on the spot like that, but they did get a free pair of tickets for admission to Six Flags...

When all was said and done, it had been a memorable night for Madeline. People had even asked for autographs from her! Madeline was thankful Alfred had made this the best Halloween she’d ever had.

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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5,000 questions survey series–part forty-two

These surveys always take me so long to get through, hence why I took such a long break from them. The questions are just too much at times and some are just plain annoying. But, I’ll try and finish it eventually. A couple of you have been taking it lately, so I figured I’d start up again.

4001. How would you rate your sex drive? It’s been non-existent the past few years, honestly. 4002. You are sitting alone with a stack of videos and a vcr. Of the following which are you most likely to puut on (1 is most, 10 is least) I’m just gonna bold which one I’d likely watch out of all of ‘em...

The good the bad and the ugly, dracula, slc punk, twin peaks fire walk with me, jerry springer too hot for tv, singing in the rain, flash gordon, the matrix, blade runner, the muppet movie 4003. Are you more likley to get or send random instant messages? I receive nice messages more often than I receive random ones. I got a rude one recently; however, about how I’m still a 31 year old virgin. Does it affect their life? No. So, don’t worry about it. *eye roll* I do get a lot of random comments on my surveys from su*ar da**ies, though... super annoying. 4004. If you were writing an ad telling people to come to your town what would you say about it? I wouldn’t write such an ad. My town sucks. 4005. What part of your body can you not stand to get an itch on? One that’s hard to reach.

4006. How many people do you suppose have stolen that System of a Down album called 'steal this album'? I haven’t heard anything about that, I’m not even familiar with that album of theirs. I’m there were people who tried/did. 4007. Name a band you like: Linkin Park. What are/were this band's roots and influences? Zeppelin, Run DMC, Public Enemy, Rage Against the Machine, Depeche Mode. 4008. would you rather have a poster of john lennon or a cute fuzzy black cat? Cute fuzzy black cat. 4009. make a public service announcement: Wear a mask! 4010. What makes you feel the need to escape? Just the need for a change of scenery and to help take my mind off things a bit for a little while. I’m sad I couldn’t go to the beach at all this summer because that’s my one place where I’m able to relax at all and just zone out. 4011. You and your signifigant other, crush, interest etc...who is the ernie and who is the bert? I don’t have any of those. 4012. When was the last time you did something and later asked yourself 'did I do the right thing?'? I hate when I forget if I took my medicine or not. I end up taking it, questioning and hoping that I didn’t already take it. I feel so robotic at times and like I’m just living life on autopilot, so things like that tend to happen. 4013. What do you find it hard to say goodbye to? I have a hard time getting rid of things because of my emotional attachment to them. 4014. What is your fantasy valentine's day like? I’ll admit it, it would be nice to experience a Valentine’s Day with someone and actually do something. It’s always been just another day for me. 4015. If you had to have a color for a name, what color would it be? Jade. 4016. Should preference be given to minority students during the college admission process? I think everyone should have the same opportunity. 4017. Sweet wine, fresh crisp appples, bagles with creme cheese and lox...what is the most incredibly luxurious food? I don’t know about those options, but if I were to think of luxurious foods I’d think of like expensive wine, cheeses, fresh fruits, and seafood like caviar and lobster and whatnot. I’m picky so I personally don’t care for fancy foods. 4018. Is there really anything to fear in communism? I don’t know enough about communism and socialism and all that to speak on it. 4019. Best sesame street character: Uhh, Big Bird. most annoying sesame street character: Elmo can be a little annoying sometimes. 4020. feast or famine? I don’t need to overindulge and have excess, I just would like to be able to have food. 4021. Write a poem right here in five minutes or less: Nah. 4022. Do you stay and help clean up after a party? I usually was one to leave early. 4023. Why was the teddy bear named after teddy roosevelt? His name was Theodore, Teddy for short, and apparently while out on a hunting trip he refused to kill a bear and someone dedicated a bear stuffed animal to him and called it Teddy’s Bear. Then it was just called a teddy bear and the rest was history. 4024. What are you the prince or princess of? Uhhh. 4025. Some people think that Christmas should be taken off of public school calanders because it is politically incorrect. What aould you say to this? I say no. It can still be winter break for those who don’t celebrate. 4026. Would you rather go to an excorcism or a step aerobics class? Uh, I think an aerobics class sounds a lot better than an exorcism. I wouldn’t be able to participate in a step aerobics class, though. I’d have to do something else. 4027. Do you believe in spells and curses? No. 4028. What tv show does your family watch together? There isn’t really one all 4 of us watch, but there’s several that 2 or 3 of us watch together. I guess Family Guy or American Dad could be one all 4 of us could watch, although I don’t really care for either one much. 4029. What's on your calander this year? Nothing. 4030. Is anything ruining your life? It has felt that way with my health issues. 4031. How was life meant to be lived? “We were meant to live for so much moreeee.” 🎶

4032. What is your usual breakfast? I rarely have breakfast, but I like breakfast foods like eggs and hash browns. And country gravy, yum. 4033. If you had kids, would you worry about what they did online? Of course. 4034. Will you be maxin and relaxin this weekend? Sure. If not, what are your weekened plans? 4035. Who has the most interesting story to tell: someone who used to fly to asia as a drug trader the ceo of Nike a nyc homeless person a preacher's wife

^^^They all would. 4036. What do you have a bad feeling about? The future regarding this virus. 4037. Do you have a lot to say? No. 4038. If a smallpox vaccine was offered to you, would you take it? Wasn’t that one of the ones given as a baby or child? I should mention I live in the US. 4039. Would you ever work at a kissing booth? No. how about a dunking booth? No. 4040. There is a woman who paints by stripping naked, rolling around in paint and then pressing her body against the canvas. What do you think of her art? I’ve never seen it, but hey do your thing. 4041. Have you ever bought something you saw on tv? Yeah, I mean that’s what commercials are intended to do. However, I’ve never called the number for a product advertisement to order something that way. Like those as seen on TV products. There have been some of those products sold in actual stores, though, that I’ve got like the Snuggie and that Finishing Touch Flawless Razor. 4042. Name a relative: that relative dies unexpectedly. On the same day 9/11 happens. You can either bring back your relative or bring back 1/2 the people who dies on 9/11. What do you do? I don’t like these type of questions. 4043. Have you gone mental? I’ve definitely felt like that. 4044. What do you think of jews for jesus? You word this like it’s the name of a group or something. Okay, so I Googled it and see that it’s an organization. 4045. Has anyone ever tried to 'save' you? Yes. 4046. Quick! picture santa clause in your head... ...Okay. Was he black or white when you pictured him? White. That’s just how I’ve often seen him portrayed. 4047. Would you ever buy a black santa clause? Sure. Santa isn’t real, you can make him look any way you want. 4048. or take your kids to vist a black santa clause? Yeah? why or why not? Santa is Santa. 4049. What do you smell like? I just smell my clothes laundry detergent scent. 4050. What kind of soup do you eat? I’m a ramen girl all the way. 4051. What have you heard about the next Harry Potter book? Will you pre-order it? I know this is old, but I haven’t read any of the Harry Potter books. 4052. Would you rather go out or stay in? I’m a hermit crab. 4053. What's your favorite song to hear on halloween? I like the classics like Monster Mash. Oh, and the Halloween movie theme music for spooky vibes. 4054. What song makes you feel all tingly like you want to laugh and scream and cry? Uhh I don’t feel that way about any song. 4055. If you were starting a website that was not about you, what Would it be about? Nah. 4056. Do you ever take the long way just for fun? I don’t drive. 4057. '..and god said let there be ____and there I was.' Fill in the blank, as if if you were talking about yourself. ‘...and God said let there be Stephanie and there I was.’ 4058. What do you think of when you hear the word 'mill'? A million. 4059. What do you think of when you hear the name: weird al? Parodies. bob dylan? Music. michael jackson? Moon dance. henry rollins? billy idol? White wedding. gary numan? will smith? Fresh Prince of Bel Air. paul mcartney? Black Bird. alice cooper? Rock and roll. J Lo? Jenny from the Block. 4060. What is one social disater you have had? It was really embarrassing getting sick in front of everyone at my party 7 years ago aka the last time I drank alcohol. I just threw up on myself in front of everyone and sat there and my friend had to help clean me up. What really messes me up is that I don’t remember drinking that much, so I don’t know how I got so drunk. 4061. Can you moonwalk? No. 4062. If a presidential candidate went on late night tv, picked up a guitar and rocked out on it and could really play, would that influence you to like/respect them more? I’d probably be like wow that’s cool, but no I wouldn’t let that influence my vote. Them being able to play an instrument doesn’t say shit about their policies or whether they’d make a good fit for the job. 4064. If it was possible for people to instantly change from one sex to another, would everyone be straight in the end? Uhh just cause they could switch their gender it doesn’t change their brain/sexual preference. Would you change your sex? No. 4065. Finish the sentance: nobody broke your heart, if you're alone... I don’t know. 4066. Would you rather have a best friend OR a boyfriend/girlfriend on a Friday night? I’d rather stay at home and do my own thing, ha. 4067. Would a woman rather be complimented about her intelligence OR her looks? Depends on the individual. 4068. Do you tend to think of the right thing to say after the moment is gone? Always. Super annoying. 4069. Would you rather a potential mate have nice hair OR nice legs? Nice hair out of the two. 4070. Okay,…. nice hair OR a nice rack/bulge? I don’t look for a “nice bulge” when I look at guys. 4071. What is one thing you thought you would enjoy, but actually didn’t? Hmm. I’m blanking at the moment. 4072. Be in the spotlight OR in the shadows? In the shadows. 4073. What is your favorite part of the newspaper? I haven’t read a newspaper in several years. When I was a kid I loved the comics, though. 4074. What in your life has been an “acquired taste” for you? Alcohol. I never really cared for it, honestly. I drank because my friends were and felt like that’s what people in their early 20s liked to do. And because it was fun sometimes, though I more often just felt like crap. It’s been 7 years since I last drank and I truly haven’t missed it. 4075. Do you find sunlight makes you happier? No. 4076. If you could conquer one fear, it would be...? I’d take care of some health related things. 4077. What's the dumbest thing you've ever seen someone do or heard anyone has done? There’s been a lot of things. 4078. How do you feel about the fact that J-Lo earns 37 million dollars a year? Is that actually true? This survey is also like a decade or so old. Do you buy anything that contributes to her salary? I haven’t bought any JLO related in several years. Is J Lo the ultimate ideal of what a woman should be? To some people. 4079. What is unforgettable beauty? I don’t know. 4080. Worst fashion mistake EVER: I don’t know or care. 4081. What is your advice to someone on their first date? Ha, I’m definitely not one to ask for dating advice. 4082. Is there a musical performer more ridiculous than Avril Lavigne (I don't think there is)? I didn’t think she was ridiculous. 4083. What is the best: daytime talk show? Dr. Phil. late night talk show? I don’t watch any anymore. 4084. Are you afraid of total freedom? What would that mean? 4085. Do you live in an invisible prison? I feel that way with my mind and health. 4086. Who do you feel distant from, that you used to be close to? I’m not close to anyone anymore outside of my immediate family. 4087. Rate the following song lyrics (1 = you like it the most, 9 = you like it the least). Nah, I really hate the rating questions. Maybe you shouldn't care/throw away those dreams/& dare Eden lets me in/I find the seeds of love/And climb upon the highwire/I kiss and tell all my fears I know the pressure is on/In a race for the life of endless love/If it seems to much/Remember/All these things are endless I see the wind, oh I see the trees/Everything is clear in my heart/I see the clouds, oh I see the sky/Everything is clear in our world Inflatable doll/Lover ungrateful/I blew up your body/But you blew my mind Well I jumped into the river/too many times to make it home/I'm out here on my own/drifting all alone/and if it doesn't show/ give it time/to read between the lines The very thought of you makes/My heart sing/Like an April breeze/On the wings of spring/And you appear in all your splendor/My one and only love now I've had lots of girls/most of them from other worlds/but lookin through the galaxey/the valley girls are the ones for me I'm the dandy highwayman so sick of easy fashion/the clumsy boots, peek-a-boo roots that people think so dashing/so what's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?/it's kind of tough to tell a scruff the big mistake he's making 4088. Can you name any of the nine bands/songs above? I didn’t even read any of the lyrics. 4089. What would your reaction be if a total stranger called to say s/he loved you and told you that you were to pass the message on to others in a telephone call you make yourself? Uh, I wouldn’t answer a call from a total stranger first of all and even if I actually did, I would be like wtf and hang up. 4090. Would you like to take a journey to jupiter? No. I have no desire to take any trip to outer space. 4091. Can you crack nuts in your bare hands? I’ve never tried, but I’m going to assume that I couldn’t. 4092. Do you take walks at night? No. Or ever. 4093. Beavis and Butthead or daria? Neither. 4094. Cow or chicken? Chicken. 4095. Do you think you will visit China in this life? I don’t see that happening, but who knows. 4096. Are you having a happy day? No. 4097. When was or will be your 'golden birthday' (when your age is the same as your birthdate, like turning 17 on the 17th)? My golden birthday was 3 years ago. 4098. Enlighten everyone with something profound: Nah. 4099. When has the third time been the charm for you? Hmm. 4100. What is kinda sick, but fun? Uhhh.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #5000 question survey

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emo-floof-child-writes · 4 years

Text

The Sword of the Solstice

Chapter 2: An Adventure Unfolds!

We return to the party’s adventures when the party walk into a tavern, the Lost Horse, in the village of Camio. They all walk in, except Eijiro, that is. Izuku realizes he isn’t following, and turns back to him. “Are you okay, Eijiro?” He asks, and Eijiro sighs. “I do not know how many of the people in there have family, friends, or property that I’ve destroyed...” He looks away, but Izuku sighs. “None of that was your fault. Just uh, take comfort in the fact that he’s not going to hurt anyone again.”

He smiles, and nods. “Come in, and be merry.” Izuku says, pulling the door open. “Woo!” Katsuki says, with a laugh. He wanders up to the bar, to get himself some ale. Shoto is sitting in a booth, Izuku motions Eijiro towards the table Shoto is sitting. Eijiro nods, and follows Izuku. Eijiro sits down, while Izuku goes up to the bar to collect the rewards for “defeating the dragon.” He smiles at the barkeeper, who sighs, inching towards the counter so she can give Katsuki his drink.

“So, as you three seem to be back in one piece, I assume you stopped the dragon?” Tsuyu Asui, the Tortle Barkeep, asks. Katsuki scoffs. “Have we ever failed you, Tsuyu?” Tsuyu scratches her beak, with a nod. “Well, no, I suppose.” She grabs her book of adventuring. As many adventurers come through her Tavern, she has a book recording uncompleted/completed quests, so she can account for any and all rewards.

She clears her throat, as she opens the book. “Ah.” She says. “1300 gold pieces, please wait for me to get the funds.” She slowly leaves the counter, heading into the back room. Izuku sits down next to Katsuki. “Sorry you don't get your dragon duel.” Izuku says, and Katsuki shrugs. “Can't be helped. Besides, we got a half-dragon to journey with us.” Izuku smiles, as Tsuyu walks back, dragging a sack behind her. Katsuki laughs. “I'll take that off you, idiot.” Tsuyu sighs.

“Thank you, Sir Bakugo. Sadly this slow Tortle cannot carry such sacks.” Katsuki reaches his arm over the bar top, easily picking the sack up. Shoto and Eijiro walk over. Tsuyu looks at Eijiro, and smiles. “I'm afraid I have not made your acquaintance?” Eijiro bites his lip. “I'm from out of town. Eijiro Kirishima.” He then walks behind Shoto. Tsuyu laughs. “I say! Found a shy one, have you? I am pleased to meet you, and perhaps do business with you.”

From behind Shoto, Eijiro nods. “You too, ma'am...” He says, looking at the floor. Tsuyu sighs. “You know, looking through the book, I realize there was a party that was supposed to search for an artifact, but they were supposed to be back a fortnight ago.” Shoto frowns, and moves closer. “They didn't return?" Shoto asks. Tsuyu shakes her head. “No. I'm concerned about that. I fear that they came into trouble.” Tsuyu taps her shell, looking around.

“I wouldn't normally ask anyone to do this, but,” she swallows. “Could you perhaps check on them?” Izuku sighs, turning to his party. “Well? What do you think?” He asks them, and Shoto kneels in front of the Tortle. “As a Paladin of Light, I cannot see a more honorable cause.” Katsuki growls. “Light Bringer! Just say yes or no!” Shoto stands, and sighs. “I wish to help them, should they need it.” Izuku nods. “Let's take a vote. Shoto is for it, as am I. Katsuki?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Why not? As long as I get to hit stuff, I'm good.” Izuku nods. “What about you, Eijiro?” Shoto asks, turning to face Eijiro. Eijiro frowns. “Wait, I get a say?” Katsuki hits his shoulder. “Yeah, Scales. You wanna come?” Eijiro nods, and Izuku smiles. “Well, that settles it. Guess we're doing back-to-back quests.” Shoto nods. “Where were they going?” Tsuyu clears her throat. “They were retrieving the Solstice Sword. In the wreckage of the Elven City of Neumel.”

Shoto nods. “My former Kingdom...” Izuku gasps. “Oh, dear.” Tsuyu says. “I did not know those were connected. I will not force this on you.” Shoto sighs. “I am nothing if not a man of my word, I will go to Neumel.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Can you not talk in paragraphs?” Izuku clears his throat. “Katsuki, be nice. You sure, Shoto?” Shoto nods, and Izuku runs his hands through his green hair. “How far is it to Neumel?”

“About two days ride, by horse." Shoto says, folding his hands. Katsuki frowns. “Really? We are that close to your home city?” Katsuki says, and Shoto nods. “Well, you better leave soon, I don't know what may have befallen them.” Tsuyu says, and walks back to the bar, on the request of a customer. The party stand outside, and Shoto channels Lathander's power, casting Call Steed. A white horse appears, and nuzzles Shoto's shoulder.

“I can take one on my horse, I cannot summon two horses.” Eijiro raises his hand. “I can transform into my dragon form, one of you can hitch a ride with me.” Katsuki smiles. “I knew I liked you, Scales!” Izuku shakes his head, chuckling. “You're just glad that your bulky figure does not need to walk.” Katsuki shrugs. “Do not judge my figure.” He turns to Eijiro, and punches his shoulder. “Can you support my weight?” Eijiro scoffs. “I could carry three of you on my back.”

Katsuki smirks. “I think you and I will get along great.” Eijiro smiles. “Well, I suppose that is good.” He changes into his dragon form, and kneels down next to Katsuki. Eijiro sighs. “Be gentle, I'm big and strong, but not indestructible.” Eijiro’s voice booms, birds fly off, out of panic. Katsuki pulls himself onto his back. “How demeaning is it that I'm riding on your back?” Katsuki asks. Eijiro laughs. “Trust me, I prefer this to being controlled by an Evil Mage.” Izuku and Shoto climb onto Shoto's steed, and they head off toward the Elven City Neumel, by the Path of Cleo.

They stop for the night, Izuku setting up a fire. They prepare for the night, Shoto takes first watch, which is uneventful. Izuku takes second watch, but again, everything is calm. Izuku goes to wake Katsuki up, with some silent protesting, Katsuki takes the third watch. He hears something rustle in the bushes by their camp. He frowns, and pulls out his club. It may just be an animal, but with this party, it never is “just an animal.”

Katsuki walks over to it, and pokes the bush with his club. He hears a quiet yelp. He smirks. Thought so. He reaches into the bush, to feel something made of leather. The bush rustled again, and a smaller, cloaked figure pushes out of the bush. Katsuki chuckles, and reaches for the figure. The cloaked figure struggles, as Katsuki pulls the figure back. “Look,” he whispers, crouching next to the figure. “I just want to know why you were in that bush?”

The figure pulls the cloak down, to reveal a brown haired young Elven woman, about Katsuki's age. She has a dark pink dress that is a little faded, and signs of blood and dirt are visible. She reaches into the bush, pulling out a staff, with a red jewel in the top. She points it at Katsuki, eyes narrowed. Katsuki smirks, hefting his warhammer in response. “Give me a good reason that I shouldn't blast you right now.” The girl whispers.

Katsuki looks over at Eijiro, and back to the girl. “They say not to wake a sleeping dragon...” Katsuki says, grabbing her staff. She scoffs. “Right, is that ‘dragon’ supposed to be you?” she asks, pulling her staff out of his grasp. Katsuki smirks. “Well, while it is true that I have a temper, I was referring to an actual dragon.” He frowns. “Well, half-dragon.” Katsuki points at Eijiro. She looks at Eijiro, and pulls her staff away from Katsuki.

Katsuki puts his warhammer away, and folds his arms. “What were you doing in that bush, miss..?” She rolls her eyes. “Miss, huh? I didn't know you punch first type were polite.” Katsuki shrugs. “I could call you ‘Round Face’ if you preferred.” She sighs. “But in all seriousness, what were you doing hiding there?” The girl bites her lip. “My party and I were attacked, by a Mage of the Cult of Dendar. I was the only survivor.”

Katsuki frowns. “What were you doing messing with cults?” She squeezes her staff. “Two things, one; my crew and I were trying to find a magic sword. Two; I am a Warlock. If you don't know, they get possessed by Dendar the Night Serpent, herself. It's why I survived.” Katsuki nods. “What was the name of that sword you were seeking?” She scoffs. “Gonna try and take the prize yourself?” She asks.

Katsuki shakes his head. “Not at all, me and my sleeping companions were to determine what happened to a party in search of a sword.” The girl frowns. “The Solstice Sword, yeah? That's what you're referring to?" she asks, and Katsuki nods. “From who?” She asks. Katsuki sighs. “Tsuyu, from the Lost Horse Inn and Tavern?” She smiles. “Okay, you aren't lying.” Katsuki holds his hand out to her.

“Katsuki Bakugo. What's your name?” She moves her staff to her left arm, and takes his hand. “Ochaco Uraraka.” He scoffs. “Uraraka, huh? I think I like ‘Round Face’ better.” She grunts, hitting him with the bottom of her staff. “Well, I'd love and chat with you, but I need to get away from an Evil Mage.” Katsuki looks around them, and scratches his chin. “I don't see a mage, minus you, at least.” She groans.

“That's because, nitwit, I was running away from him. He hasn't gotten here yet, but he'll be here soon.” Katsuki growls. “Don't call me a nitwit!” She smirks. “Ooh, did I hit a sore spot? I did, didn't I?” Katsuki scoffs. “You should start running, or whatever.” She frowns. “Y'know, we're looking for the same thing, I suppose that it would make sense to work together.” Katsuki runs his hands through his hair. “Just a second ago you wanted to run!”

She shrugs.”If you really have a Draconic on your side, I imagine I'm safer here.” Katsuki shrugs. “Yeah, he's new.” She nods. “Have you been traveling together long?” Katsuki sighs. “If we're going to get personal, I'm gonna wake my crew up.” He starts to walks over to his sleeping companions. He wakes Shoto and Izuku first, and nods towards Ochaco. Izuku gasps, reaching for his sword. Katsuki shakes his head.

“As far as I can tell, she's a friendly.” Katsuki whispers. They nod. “Be on guard, though.” Katsuki adds, as he kneels down next to Eijiro. Much to the young barbarian's surprise, Eijiro awakes without blasting fire in his face. Katsuki motions to Ochaco, and she walks over, supporting herself on her staff. “Um, hello.” She says, fixing her cloak. Izuku holds his hand out. “Uh, I'm Izuku Midoriya.” She smiles. Izuku turns to Shoto.

“That's Shoto Todoroki, he either says too much or too little.” Izuku says, smiling. Shoto clears his throat. He has one hand on his greatsword, and he waves with the other. Eijiro walks over. “Eijiro Kirishima, uh, hello.” She smiles. “Sounds like you got those backwards.” He shrugs. “I've been trapped in damp cave for a long time, social skills are not my forte.” She chuckles. “Well, I'm Ochaco Uraraka, Mage of Levitation, and unwilling Warlock of Dendar the Night Serpent.” Katsuki sighs.

“You'd get along great with Light Bringer, over here with those unnecessary titles." Katsuki says, and she frowns. “Dendar doesn't seem to agree. You uh, wouldn't happen to be a Paladin of Lathander, would you?" she asks, taking a few steps back. Shoto also takes a few steps back. “I am, and I knew what you were right away. I sensed Her presence, thanks to my Detect Good and Evil spell.” Her arm goes up. “Um, I'm s-sorry. I can't stop her, she's gonna blast you.”

Shoto takes a deep breath and walks closer to her, grabbing her shoulder. He casts Command on Dendar's presence. “Surrender." Much to Shoto's surprise, he senses that the spell takes hold, and Ochaco's arm drops to her side. She lets out a sigh. “Did, did you just stop a deity?” Katsuki says, in shock. Shoto's hand shakes. “Y-yeah. I just told a goddess to surrender...” He kneels, taking a shaky breath. “I didn't think that would work...”

Ochaco kneels beside him. “Thank you. I didn't want to use Eldritch Blast on you.” He nods. “I didn't want you to either.” She smiles. “Maybe we could get along. Perhaps you were right, Half-wit.” Katsuki grunts. “I'm not a half-wit! Not all barbarians are mindless berserkers!” She smirks, and shrugs. “Could’ve fooled me.” She says, and he growls. Izuku notices that Katsuki was about to explode, and steps between them.

“Let's not fight.” He turns to Katsuki. “I assume you know what she's doing here?" Izuku asks Katsuki. “She says she's the sole survivor of the crew we were looking for. Says she was after that sword, when a Cultist of Dendar, a Mage, attacked her party.” Katsuki shrugs. “It sounded legit.” Katsuki adds, and Shoto sighs. “If it's all the same, I'm casting Zone Of Truth.” He casts it, with his party aware of the effect, they willing went under its influence.

Shoto feels her being compelled to the spell. “Is what you told Katsuki true?” He asks, and she nods. Does she know the loophole? Izuku wonders, with a sigh. “Say what exactly what happened.” She frowns, but nods. “Um, me and my crew, we were going to the ruins of Neumel, in search of the Solstice Sword. A Mage of the Dendar Cult attacked us, I only survived because of the Dark Entity within me.” Eijiro pats her shoulder. “I'm sorry, it must be hard to lose your crew.”

She smiles. “Yeah, I wasn’t aquaintanted with them, but survivor's guilt is there at the very least.” Shoto nods. “Do you, by any chance know the precise location of the sword?” She frowns. “The Mage took our map, he's trying to take it for some malevolent purpose.” Izuku groans. “Why is there never someone who wants it for a benevolent purpose?” Shoto asks. Eijiro shrugs. “Guess those with power seek ways to gain more.” Eijiro says.

Katsuki sighs. “Now is not the time to do that, Scales. We should get going, what do you think, Deku?” Katsuki asks. “Deku” means “Useless Idiot”, he uses it to refer to Izuku as an endearment. Izuku sighs. “Yeah, let's go.” He turns to Ochaco. “Do you, by any chance remember where the map said it would be?” Ochaco shakes her head. “My party didn't trust me to see it...” She runs her arm. “Because of Dendar...” Eijiro nods, understanding her pain.

Shoto frowns. “So you never saw the map?” She shrugs. “Not that well, it was well guarded.” Katsuki groans. “Looks like we're gonna do this the old fashioned way.” Izuku says, with a shrug. “If it helps, supposedly the sword gives off a humming sound when you get close to it?” Ochaco says, shrugging. Izuku groans. “Well, we should at least get to Neumel before we worry about this.” Shoto says, as he casts Find Steed.

His horse appears, and he and Izuku climb onto it. Kirishima turns into his dragon form, and Ochaco gasps. Katsuki laughs. “I did say that he was a Draconic.” Katsuki says, as Eijiro kneels. “I don’t bite.” Eijiro says, and Katsuki scoffs. “You may not bite, but you spit fire...” Katsuki says. “I wouldn’t say such things to a dragon, Kacchan.” Izuku says, using his nickname for Katsuki, based on the local human language from where he was born.

Katsuki frowns. “Good point, Deku.” He climbs onto Eijiro’s back, and Ochaco follows, eyeing Eijiro as she climbs on. They reach the Neumel ruins, and set up camp. They set up in what looks like a house, but it was burnt to the ground, with debris surrounding it. Before they could even set up, they had to clear a spot for the five of them to sit. “What exactly were you supposed to do with this sword?” Shoto asks Ochaco.

She sighs. "Well, we were to bring it back to Tsuyu. She said something about it seals the darkness or something? Gave us a brief summary of a legend about a Mage of Light and a Mage of Dark. They've supposedly have been locked in combat since the dawn of time, in different forms.” Katsuki scoffs. “Wow, that's just a fancy way of saying a fight against Good and Evil.” He says, and Ochaco frowns. “I don't think so, from the way she said it, she made it sound as though the mages are reincarnated. Always after the sword of legend.”

Shoto nods. “As a Paladin of Light, I have heard of this legend.” Shoto says. “It is said that it can only be carried by the next incarnation, though. How did your party expect to take it with you?” Ochaco shrugs. “They didn't tell me.” Izuku pats her shoulder. “It's okay.” He says. Eijiro frowns. “Can we even get it?” He asks, and Ochaco sighs. “I don't know, do any of you have a heavenly connection?” She asks. Everyone looks at Shoto.

It takes Shoto a few seconds to register that they think he'd be worthy. “Oh, not me.” He says, looking at his companions. “It cannot be me! It states that it's the lowly man that's worthy. I was raised as a Prince, I don't doubt I'm the least lowly person here!” Katsuki groans. “Well, I guess we're doomed, aren't we?” Shoto scratches his chin. “Not necessarily. We could stop those Cultists from obtaining the sword, so that the Sword doesn't fall into the wrong hands.” They nod. “It's all we can do for sure, unfortunately.” Izuku says, grabbing hold of his shortsword.

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larissaloki · 5 years

Text

Walking avengers 18

Sorry its taken so long, decided to split this chapter as I'm struggling with the next bit!! Hope you all enjoy!

Colossus’s group was not what Sam expected at all, despite the various hints about their group, Sam was still surprised when Thor and he were introduced to them.

In front of them, crowded inside a small living room; wooden beam supports are placed here and there, most furniture sees to of been moved out of the room to leave space for bedding on one side. Windows boarded up and heavy fabrics cover them to make sure no light escapes, alerting the dead that the are there. Nearer the door to the left is supplies and bags piled up, easy and quick to grab in a hurry, the only bit of furniture left in the room is the sofa, cushions dark with dirt and tears here and there from weapons nicking them.

Sat on the sofa currently, is an old man; bold and in what looks to be washed out faded jeans and a plaid shirt. The man looks to be in his 50s at least, his eyes watch the new arrivals calmly and with a soft welcoming look framed by laugh lines and crows feet by the eyes.

Besides him, eating out of a metal container, is an elderly old, blind women, her dark skin has laugh lines and crows feet same as the man besides her. She’s wearing a tatty purple jumper that has obviously seen better days, she wears dark soft looking joggers.

The last one on the sofa is a young adult Indian man, he seems to be trying to clean a gun, following Logan’s direction who sat on the floor with Negasonic and another male. The last guy has light brown hair that would probably look blonde in the summer sun, his face is what most would consider handsome, the kind of face that would have been popular in school.

“Hello everyone, I hope Logan told you about the group we met? This is two of the members, Sam and Thor. They have come to see us and take us to their base if they are happy with our group” Colossus introduced Sam and Thor to the group had now turned to give the their full attention.

“Welcome Sam” the old man nodded at him as he greeted him before turning to Thor and nods at him as well, “Thor, I am Charles Xavier. This lovely lady besides me is Al and on the end is Dophinder. On the floor here is Negasonic who I’m sure you have already met, Logan and this is Johnny. We call him Pyro”

Smiling serenely, Charles whole personality seems to bleed safe and gentle. Sam can feel all tension leaving his bones as he looks at the elder man, muscles he didn’t realise were tense are now relaxing.

It’s Thor who nods back at him with a smile of his own, “aye, nice to meet you all though wish it was under better circumstances.”

“It is a shame indeed”

Heaving a sigh, Sam approaches forward a bit into the crowded room, eyes trailing over each person as he silently evaluates them all.

“We would like to invite you all to live in the same camp as us, work with us against our shared enemy. They took one of our people recently which is how we met some of you”

“Logan told us what happened, I’m sorry this has happened to your group. We would all like to extend our help to your group in defending against Francis and get your friend back”

Charles voice is calm and soothing as he speaks, yet firm and with utter confidence; Sam is positive that Charles could speak with such conviction that Sam could take on an entire hoard with one dagger.

The blind lady, introduced as Al puts her food container down finally and licks her lips, trying to gather the last of the beans sauce.

“Is the place where your group is stationed safe? What is your group like? I don’t want to move to a place easily invaded sweetie”

Sam could understand her concern, that’s why they have people seeing each group, to see them for themselves without having everyone in potential danger. Thankfully its Yukio who speaks up as she packs away some of their supplies, an opinion they would trust.

“It’s a big place, lots of rooms to booby trap and hide in if we get attacked. The group themselves are nice” she smiles sweetly as she presses a quick kiss to Negasonic’s lips as she passes her. “I’d say we would be safe there with them”

“Aye, the Avengers are a strong group, joining together we would be stronger. We have vehicles outside to move you all back to our place tonight if you wish to join us?”

Extending the offer, Thor looks between each person but settles his gaze on Charles, sensing that the elder man is the one that calls the shots here. Thor’s heightened senses can tell that Charles is a Sun, his calming aura only evidence of a lifetime using it to his advantage to influence situations and keeping everyone level headed. Even Thor can feel the effects and all tension bleed out from him, yet he knew nothing bad would happen to him not Sam here, that Charles was most likely trying to avoid any conflict or simply does this without realising now.

“I’m sure we would all love to join your group” Charles addresses his group asking for their vote; unsurprisingly they all voted in favour of going.

Sam and Thor helped the group pack up for the journey, helping Charles get his battered wheelchair loaded up while Logan carried him. Logan seemed particularly protective of Charles Sam noted, nearly always hovering nearby Charles when he could and being the one to help him when Charles asks for help.

Dophinder seemed to be the one in charge of watching Al as he helped her into the camper with the others. Most bags being thrown into the back of the truck so that everyone could fit into the camper.

The ride back was slow but silent, not wanting to attract any Deado’s as they made their way through the streets, they were also on high alert for any ambushes from Francis’s group. Weapons gripped tightly and senses dialed to 11. The hooting of an owl making them all jump at one point.

Sam was never so happy before in his life to see the drive and gates that lead to the mansion, drawing close to the gates, he pulled to a stop letting Thor off to open the gates.

Quick as he can, Thor makes his way to the gates, glancing around to make sure no one is hiding close by when his foot kicks something on the ground. Pausing and looking down to see what it was he kicked, Thor sees a small black walkie talkie. Taped to the front is some writing that he can’t make out in the dark, bending to retrieve it Thor realises it says Stark on the taped on bit of paper.

Feeling a sliver of unease go down his spine, Thor hurriedly pocketed the device and got the gates open as fast as he could, standing to the side to let Sam through before locking them up tightly again.

Getting back into the truck, Sam gives him a concerned look as he drives up to the mansion.

“What was that you picked up outside the gates Thor?”

Silently, Thor took out the device and passed it over once they pulled to a stop. Sam’s sharp intake of breath told Thor that Sam must have had a similar feeling as he did. Whatever is on the other side of this device, could not surely be anything good. Thor dreaded handing it over to Tony once inside.

Again, they all worked together to get everyone inside, Loki and Bucky coming out to help as they had been watching through the windows, awaiting their arrival. Once inside, everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief, no longer a moving target out in the open.

Locking the door and casting a few wards and alarms on the door, Loki glances at the new group with an analytical gaze, storing away any tidbits of information he notices. Bucky seems to be doing the same to his side, the winter soldier training in him doing it practically on autopilot. Bucky may hate the years in Hydras grasp and he may despise what they did to him and made him do, but he cannot deny that the skills he picked up and honed has helped him survive this hell so far.

“Thanks for the help getting inside man” Sam nods at Bucky patting his shoulder as he passes him. “do you know which rooms are set up for these guys?”

“Me and Natasha set up the wing opposite ours, for everyone’s comfort both groups have a distance from each other, while still maintaining a sense of closeness and safety” Loki draws as he walks around the group, heading for the stairs leading up to the upper levels.

“Thank you for the consideration” Charles smiles softly at them all, still held in Logan’s arms, wheelchair being carried in Logan’s other hand.

Tipping his head politely, Loki calls for Thor to help the group carry everything upstairs to show the group to their rooms, allowing them to finally get settled in for the night. Bucky watches the weary and tired group trudge up the stairs, obviously exhausted from running all the time; looking themselves for much more permanent homes to dig in roots again.

Groaning, Bucky cracks his neck and rubs at the sore muscles, turning to Sam to bid him goodnight, just wanting to go to bed and drag Tony finally away from his project frenzy with Bruce. He pauses when he sees the worried look on Sam’s face, biting his bottom lip as he plays with something in his pocket.

“What’s wrong Wilson?”

Jumping at being caught, Sam glances at Bucky quickly before diverting his eyes to his own pocket again. With a heavy sigh, Sam pulls out the device he still had on him.

“Thor found this outside the gates when we came back… “

Handing the device over, Sam sees how Bucky’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tag with Tony’s name on it. The hand writing unfamiliar to him but Bucky is 99% positive Francis is involved with this thing.

“Do you think this has something to do with Francis?” Sam wondered quietly, his voice barely above a whisper in the suddenly vast entrance hallway.

“Undoubtedly” Bucky pursed his lips in irritation. Its way to late to deal with this but again, it could be something they will want to deal with sooner rather than later. If this has something to do with Steve, they will want to know tonight.

“I’ll go get Tony, Bruce, Nat and Clint if he’s up. You go see if Loki, Thor and whoever from the other group wants to join us. Meet you in the sun room down here in 20 minutes?”

“Sure thing”

Agreeing with a Bucky’s orders, Sam sets off up the stairs first. Leaving Bucky rubbing at his face in sudden bone deep exhaustion. If they didn’t have the undead to worry about, this wouldn’t have been as difficult, plans much more easily planned and the government on their side. As it is, they have so many things running against them, that what would normally probably be an easy rescue mission; was now mission impossible.

He can guess that the opponent is bombarding them with all this, to make them sloppy, rash in their decisions and easier to take down.

It’s how the winter soldier would of gone about something like this.

It’s nearly 30 minutes later when Bucky could pry Tony and Bruce from tinkering with the spare tech, meeting Sam downstairs with the Asgardian brothers, Colossus, Logan, Pyro and Charles. The rest must be settling down for the night, Nat offering to watch over the kids as well we Clint incase of any issues.

As Bucky glanced one person to the next, he noticed the increasing tiredness everyone was showing. Even Thor and Loki looked drained and weary from the last few days, the emotional roller coasters they have all been on. Hell he didn’t know what the new comers have been facing, but he has no doubt that they had similar soul draining days and encounters.

Once all seated, Bucky stood up to draw everyone’s attention.

“I know it’s late, and we all would rather be in bed right now; resting after such a busy day. However something has come up. Something we all need to talk and be present for, Sam show them what you found”

Sighing heavily, Sam holds the walkie-talkie; which Bucky had given him back once Sam had come back down with the others. Everyone’s eyes are immediately drawn to the name taped onto the front, then almost as one, they all turn to look at Tony who pales a bit. Eyes trained on the device.

Bucky takes up talking again as he takes a seat by Tony’s side, pressed tightly against him to offer comfort.

“They found this outside the gates on the way back home, it’s obvious that it’s Francis playing with us. We wanted to have everyone vote on calling now or waiting, find our what everyone thought as if we turn this on, there will most likely only be stress waiting for us on the other end.”

Taking calming breathes, absorbing the comforting smell and presence from the Dom at his side, Tony clasps the device in his hands resting in his lap. Tony is going mad being in this place, no suit to fly to bust Steve out from where ever he’s being held. So many times Steve has helped him on this journey and protected him and Peter, Tony hates the feeling of helplessness that he is experiencing right now.

“We should turn it on, the longer we take to answer the worse things could be getting for Steve and whoever else they have taken. The world may have gone to shit, but we are all still the Super Hero’s that once protected the world. We can’t let this Francis intimidate us, not now.”

Determined, Tony looks around at the others for their opinions, though he is pleased when he gets looks of agreement in return.

“This call will no doubt be staged to be as stressful as possible, aimed to push you into making rash decisions Tony. You must make sure you keep a calm head as much as possible, understood?” Charles chimes in, his soothing voice firm in a way most parental people somehow manage to have. The advice and support of the fellow Sub, strengthens Tony’s resolve to try and beat Francis at his own game. Simply having everyone there for support was helping him keep himself calm as possible.

“I’ll try as best as I can, Bucky I want you to intervene if you think I’m making bad calls OK?”

“no problem doll-“

“Are we sure it’s OK for Tony to call? You all had an emotional day, perhaps we can contact on your behalf?”

Concerned, Colossus speaks up. His face drawn into an uncomfortable frown, everyone pretty quickly got the impression that the big guy was very protective of every one around him; be it sub, dom or switch. Because of this, Tony found he felt no offense at Colossus’s concern for him, it came from genuine concern and not a sexiest view that he wouldn’t be able to handle this. The action reminded him briefly of how Steve is.

“Don’t worry wrecking ball, I’m OK to do this, I have you all here to help me or take over if I can’t handle it OK?”

Nodding, though still tense, Colossus sits back to listen. Bucky gives Tony’s shoulder a quick squeeze for courage and support, muscles tense with the impulse to steal the device and rip Francis a new one. Bucky was not looking forward to this conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Tony brings the device up closer to be able to speak into it, clicking a button to turn it on. Static crackles through the air.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me? This is Tony Stark. You left this outside our gates” Taking his finger off the button, Tony listens for any reply. Static seems to fill the room as every one holds their breathe in union.

It almost makes them all jump when they get a reply.

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shotfromguns · 5 years

Photo

Good, long thread by @TheMittani on Twitter on “neoconfederacy” in the South:

if you ever wonder why i got politically 'radicalized' it's because i grew up in alabama as an atheist child of two biochemistry professors; at 17 i graduated and moved away forever. reminder: Alabama came within 1.7% of sending a known pedo to the senate~

any '13th dimensional chess' tweets about how the AL leg composed this abortion ban to provoke a court fight has never met an actual neoconfederate this is what they want 100%, it's a white supremacist aristo fertility cult and all the moves make sense when understood that way

source: i have been to an unironic country club debutante ball in dear old mountain brook and folks have no idea how much intergenerational wealth transfer has carried over from the days of slavery in that society's upper class

for context, when i was in high school there were three country clubs, maybe 20k citizens, and zero black students; every street is named after a civil war battle, and 'houses' there would be called mansions anywhere else

best public schools in the state though~

folks have no clue how rich and well-educated the ruling class in alabama is, going to mountain brook means if you don't get into one of the better ivys you're probably a bitter slacker like me legislation like this isn't from stupid hicks, it's the goal

southern aristos can be incredibly intelligent and well-traveled and are all the more dangerous politically because they are happy to play dumb in public with the aw-shucks jesus loving hick routine in order to quietly run an antebellum society and pit poor whites against blacks

it's almost comically effective, I do this stuff all the time in Eve - say laughably wrong things, act like a fool, and then it's much easier to outmaneuver people. The most dangerous enemy is one who is comfortable with being publicly underestimated.

I mean to say, 'ha ha eat my ass look at me I'm so great at spaceship games', please interpret my above tweet as evidence of hubris and ignorance rather than giving up an actual tactic I've employed so often it's been nicknamed the 'tee hee, flounce flounce' by my chief of staff

'I'm the fucking Mittani, I know everything in this game,' another good one wearing red shirts? stupid gimmick, keep doing it because it's a stupid gimmick, it's far better for our competitors/enemies to see me as a joke luv2club? tee hee, flounce flounce, same shit

anyhoo yeah it's the same dance, play god-fearing jesus lover to keep the poor whites on your side, maintain that patriarchy with the complicity of ruling class women who enjoy the economic benefits of neoconfederacy, and live over the mountain so no one spots all the lexuses

it's interesting to see the term neoconfederate finally get some use but it implies that there isn't already an actual working confederate states of america right in front of everyone's eyes that's been there since reconstruction, none of that shit is an accident

if you put 'hail hydra' on statues in every town in the region you don't have to bother saying 'hail hydra' or announce in print that you're down with hydra, everyone who lives there gets it

the issue is not being part of a traitorous conspiracy against the united states government (i mean hydra, not the neoconfederacy, ha ha!) the problem comes when you state it where those not in on it can hear you. Viz: ”Alabama newspaper editor calls for Klan return to ‘clean out D.C.’”

i kind of like the hydra analogy for the neoconfederacy, because all this shit - 'states rights', 'pro-life', 'voter fraud', these disparate causes are actually all the same cause: the ~lost~ cause

southern politics makes a lot more sense when viewed through the lens of pro/anti-confederacy politics; confederate society is based upon a ruling gentry descended from the cavaliers see generally https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albion%27s_Seed actual /aristos/ not merely rich people

so basically you have an entrenched aristocracy that traces their lineage back 10+ generations running a plantation society and fighting like fucking hell to maintain that privilege, privilege most people in the usa cannot even begin to imagine

generic usa high ~net worth individuals~ have nothing on the cunning and unity maintained by ancient proud cavalier aristocratic families in the south with shitloads of money who will do anything to protect the universe they and their forefathers have created (via slavery)

the whole 'the south will rise again' thing is a huge joke because the structure of the society immediately returned to functional slavery as soon as it could get away with it, the south already 'rose' after reconstruction, it's right in fucking the open

if they get away with the abortion thing, they'll gun for brown v board next; these people remember life before MLK and they have not forgotten or forgiven the civil rights movement those behind this aren't hicks, they very smart confederates acting like hicks to fool you.

many old privileged families come with a legacy and a purpose imposed on you from birth it's not a stretch of the imagination that the quest of a lot of these old aristo families is to restore the society to antebellum life and get their privileges (slavery) back

the civil war was only a few generations ago, these families have not forgotten and they have not let their children forget the monuments, the street named for war battles, that's why it matters still to them

southern aristos are pro-life because the whole point of the society is the poor whites fight the poor blacks, and restricting abortion = more labor and poverty to exploit by the gentry the goal of their flavor of white supremacy is about getting rich off slaves, not death camps

not that they have a problem with a death camp or three, it's difficult to communicate how utterly disposable the lives of people outside of their class are, this is a society whose rulers believe that god has anointed them to rule over their lessers

its not rocket science, you take a slaveholding landed gentry and take away their slaves and land (good!) that gentry is going to spend its time fanatically scheming to get its land and slaves back (bad, what we see in southern politics)

anyhoo what i'm saying is that this isn't about random kooks trying to put women 'in their place' (there's a bunch of them too, useful idiots) but part of a broad campaign across generations by a dispossessed cavalier nobility to get all their lost privileges (slavery) back

conveniently the rest of america doesn't have much of an entrenched aristo/gentry culture anymore so the maneuvers of the 'neo' confederates just look like random right wing lashing out rather than a deliberate series of moves to benefit the southern aristocracy

the reality of the modern confederacy reminds me a lot of 'The City and the City' in that it's clearly visible to those raised within it, yet its contour is completely alien to outsiders who don't know how to 'see' it the 'right' way.

shit like Roy Moore being a pedo but coming within 1.7% of winning a senate seat makes a buttload more sense than 'alabama voters will send anything not a democrat', Moore is a proud and loud confederate and Doug Jones is anti-confederate it's the confederacy - always.

Pro-life? Confederacy. State's Rights? Confederacy. Gun rights? Confederacy. Religious Freedom/Gay Cake Stuff? Confederacy. Anti-union? Confederacy. If you're a Cavalier or one of their foremen, it all fits~

Robert Caro basically spelled out in intricate detail how the confederacy works in his LBJ bios but particularly Master of the Senate, read these if you want a primer on actual power and its uses: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Years_of_Lyndon_Johnson

when LBJ shifted to supporting voting rights, the confederacy simply switched its support from the democrats to the republicans. it's a real thing and its moves make perfect sense once you grok the core motivations of the southern gentry and their henchmen~

you see this repeatedly through history where one side stops fighting after a victory and the other side loses but keeps trying to find ways to win, the Union torched the south and moved on, but the confederacy has /never stopped fighting/ using whatever means they have available

tl;dr "it's the confederacy, stupid" also explains those crazy 'obama is the antichrist' memes; if you're a confederate, a black president existing is against everything your flavor of pro-slavery jesus stands for

None of this thread really applies to Texas. I was born in Houston, moved to AL at 10; completely different culture in Texas. Going to rodeos, oil/cattle, science, ranching. When I say the 'South' I'm talking about the plantation society of the Cavaliers.

As a quick example of using the Lost Cause to understand Cavalier political behavior, Lindsey Graham's 'hypocrisy' makes perfect sense. He doesn't give a shit about spewing nonsense or lying to Yankees, all he cares about is Dixie. He's not dumb at all; the Union is his enemy.

Expanded May 17, 2019:

oh yeah and Mitch McConnell was born and raised in Alabama and then Georgia from 8yrs on, so heyoooo

look up how long jeff sessions family has been naming their kids after jefferson davis on his bio dixie is real; it's the confederacy, the political moves the cavaliers and their overseers are making on behalf of the lost cause as plain as day if you know what to look for

just gonna spend Friday night reading Albion’s seed to learn more fun ~cavalierfacts~ like how their royalist gentry is literally all one big interrelated family and coordinates retribution and uses debt to control the poor

“It is difficult to think of any ruling elite that has been more closely interrelated since the Ptolemies” holy lawl (it is a history insult as he’s basically calling the cavaliers a nest of outright incest, the Ptolemaic dynasty was Targaryen-style sibling marriage)

Hey guess what turns out the control of women is deeply ingrained in cavalier society because uh... kidnapping / human trafficking / sexual slavery and a massively skewed male to female ratio lovely people, these confederates

“These patterns did not develop by chance. Virginia’s great migration was the product of policy and social planning. Its royalist elite succeeded in shaping the social history of an American region partly by regulating the process of migration” (p 232) fucking hell it’s all here

May 22, 2019:

by req: another ‘understanding the confederacy’ thing, all the protest tweets saying “the cruelty is the point” are wrong, the point is opportunities for race-based policing (a la weed), disenfranchisement, reinforcing patriarchy, and more labor/babies to exploit + compliance

sure there’s a bunch of cruelty in there too but the whole thing is a means to the ends of rolling back the civil rights movement and restoring the structure of Dixie as the gentry/cavaliers prefer; the confederates may be slavers at heart but they’re not cartoon villains

(they're way worse)

In case I get hit by a bus, I currently think the concept of hegemonic liberty is the most misunderstood aspect of the cavalier mindset, so here’s three key pages from Albion’s Seed~

And the cavalier conception of condescension and deference as two sides of God’s hierarchy and order is a fracture point, that’s why incivility towards one’s ‘betters’ is so provocative - milkshakes would probably work over here, too

Also by hiding and lying about the existence of Dixie, they fragment their opposition into issue-based groups - pro-choice, gun control, voters rights, anti-racism - instead of each opposition group recognizing that they are fighting the same confederate foe

Not like they really hid that much, they had confederate flags flying over their capitols ever since the Civil War until recently, but the Union won the war and moved on, so folks think they’re fighting random bigots and not the CSA

May 23, 2019:

the lack of a concerted effort by the democratic party to win and develop victories in the south has allowed the bulwark of the RNC power to be unchallenged, if you erode the Dixie Wall in the Senate the republicans pretty much lose all their functional power

as the DNC is incompetent one doesn't need to rely upon them, state by state in Dixie voting rights and organization must be pushed to undermine the structure of confederate power, that's the fracture point, that and forcing their true nature as confederates into the open

I'll develop all this crap into more useful tactics on the upcoming blog thing but this is all just-in-case 'yo guys, if I get hit by a bus, take Albion's Seed, drive through Mountain Brook for proof of everything I'm saying (crestline doesn't count lawl) go fight hydra'

as someone will inevitably discover not EVERY street in Mountain Brook is named for civil war battles (there's a lot), the really old money lives on streets named for old british estates/towns + they're episcopalians (anglican 2.0) not baptists, of course

#US history #Slavery #Racism #Capitalism #Misogyny

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gingerandwry · 5 years

Text

Memphis, Tennessee

My first night in Memphis I settled into my AirBnB-- a large ground floor of a duplex decked out in music-related imagery, furniture and knick-knacks-- then drove downtown for a late dinner at Belle Tavern, a newish upscale Southern restaurant and bar. The restaurant was closed (which saved me some money) so I ate off the bar menu and chatted with the friendly staff. That night I enjoyed the biggest, longest thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed-- from the comfort of my bed.

On my last visit to Memphis I did most of the interesting things here so I decided to use this time to catch up on this blog, The Economist, my Portuguese lessons, travel planning and exercise. On my first day I finally left at 1pm and headed to Gus’s for their world-famous friend chicken. It does not disappoint. Then I headed to the National Civil Rights Museum which I had been sad to miss last time.

It’s housed in the former Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was shot. When it opened in 1991 it was the country’s first civil rights museum (and it’s affiliated with the Smithsonian, which is how it became “National”). The museums I had just seen in Birmingham and Jackson are considerably newer and are in states that witnessed a lot more action in the struggle. (Tennessee was also a Jim Crow state but its racists were apparently less murderous.) The experience is heavy from the start. As you approach the highly recognizable motel, you see a wreath hanging on the balcony where Dr. King was felled. A plaque then directs your eyes to a run-down brick building across the street and the window in the former boarding house from which James Earl Ray fired the bullet (allegedly-- more on that later). After a deep breath, I entered the building.

This museum stands out from the others I visited in two main ways. First its focus is national, not on a specific state. Second, it’s arranged not chronologically but episodically. So after introductory sections on slavery, Plessy and Jim Crow, each room tells the story of a notable episode during the struggle: Brown, Rosa Parks, Freedom Rides, Bombingham, lunch counter sit-ins, March on Washington, etc. At first I didn’t like this, as I thought, one, it would glamorize certain people and events while ignoring the “foot soldiers; and two, the historical timeline would become confused thus lessening the impact. The first concern was unfounded as the display were extremely detailed and thorough. And the non-sequential approach ends up also having merits; visitors can fully immerse themselves in the parts without getting lost trying to piece them together. The only problem is the crowds (which a sign in the lobby warned about). I ended up sandwiched between a tour group and a high school group and so scurried through some areas I would have liked to explore more. In part the museum design is to blame-- it’s confined to the original small structure of the Lorraine-- and in part it’s because addresses a popular, important subject, so the crowds are a good thing.

The museum also ends the story in a novel way. The passage of the Voting Rights Act is the first ending, but there are several codas. First, visitors enter the recreated rooms of the hotel where Dr. King was staying, and a window reveals the balcony as well as a view of the assassin’s building across the street. It’s very powerful. Following coverage of the immediate aftermath of his death, the displays then turn to the Black Power and Afro-centrism movements of the lates 1960s and early 70s, followed by the enduring legacy of the Civil Rights Movement. I think it’s inspired to point out that even tho the concept of Black Power doesn’t sit as comfortably with many whites as Dr. King’s non-violent resistance, it’s an equally important part of the same struggle. This museum also highlights throughout the many inequalities that blacks still face, such as the way most cities and schools are still segregated and the black political representation is still short of its potential.

And then things get really interesting... Across the street, in the boarding house where the assassin’s bullet came from, a newish wing examines the manhunt and trial that put Ray in jail (and displays the purported rifle). It then details the controversy that has surrounded the assassination ever since: the idea that Ray didn’t do it, that he didn’t do it alone and/or that he acted at someone else’s behest. Three separate commissions looked at the evidence, including the Justice Department and FBI in 1999 and 2000, and these displays very carefully and thoroughly present their findings. These investigations debunked some theories, but they raise A LOT of questions, and visitors are left to draw their own conclusions. Ultimately the more recent commissions decided Ray probably acted alone (tho they deemed a lot of witnesses, police and prosecutors unreliable) but he probably expected payment. From whom is unknown; the suspect list is quite long. It’s rare that a museum (especially a National one) would treat “conspiracy” theories so thoroughly and with such gravitas-- and not really try to dispel the conspiracy. Imagine the Kennedy Presidential Library doing that. I believe this reflexes the belief of some of the King family that Ray did not act alone and their attempt to uncover the truth.

All that mystery made me hungry again so I ate at nearby Central BBQ which was obviously delicious. Then it was home for more catch up. For dinner I was craving something non-Southern so I went to Los Comelos. I thought it was a nice-ish Mexican restaurant, but it turns out to be a local family chain. Food was tasty enough tho. Then it was over to the Pumping Station for some drinks and conversation before bed.

On Thursday I woke up and headed to nearby Cooper-Young for breakfast. The neighborhood was not as happening as I thought it would be so I drove north up Cooper Street (Midtown’s main drag) to a good ol’ diner called Barksdale. After a cheap, basic, tasty breakfast, I continued north to the Overton Park neighborhood which was much more bustling than Cooper-Young. I drove in and around the park to peep some of the shmanciest homes in the city.

I then drove to Stax Museum of American Soul, the legendary studio that produced some of the biggest, best soul acts of the late 60s and early 70s. The 20 minute film that starts the tour really tells you everything you need to know, but the following displays go into much greater detail. I appreciated how they taught musical history, describing the sources of various influences like gospel, country and blues and how these all converged in Memphis. The museum also seeks to tell a broader story of black music, so it also features contemporaries and followers like Motown, Mussel Shoals, funk and disco and fairly give credit (and blame) where it’s due. The artifacts are numerous but not all that impressive-- mainly records and covers along with some clothes. (One big exception is Isaac Hayes’ gold trimmed, fur lined Cadillac with TV and fridge accompanied by a video of him describing how awesome it was.) The best part of course is the music and videos. The Stax story, like so many in the music industry, ends sadly and in bankruptcy. In fact it’s only in the fine print at the end that we learn the original building was torn down in the 80s and the current one is a recreation. That feels like kind of a gyp, but overall it’s a good experience and a good lesson in music history.

The rain returned that night so I just walked to the closet bar/restaurant, Young Avenue Deli. Seemed like a fun place (with a stage!). As I was leaving, trivia night was beginning. The first question was “What two countries share land borders with Sweden?” Is that what passes for trivia in Memphis?! On the way home I stopped for beer at the very friendly Hammer & Ale bar/store.

The next morning I set out for Nashville. I had planned to take the Natchez Trace Parkway most of the way since it’s a lovely, historic road. But it was raining across the entire state so I opted for the I-40 straight shot. Driving for three hours in rain was hellish, and the road was surprisingly crowded and torn up and the drivers pretty incompetent and/or inconsiderate (especially the truckers). But the scenery was pretty, especially the second half. I must have passed at least 20 state parks full of fall-colored forests, as well as some lovely water ways and charming farm houses. It almost made of for the misery of the drive.

#memphis #tennessee #travel #gaytravel #intentionaltravel

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rosey-writes · 5 years

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The Alchemist Tributes: Book One

Questioning

Demand Answers

There used to be a library around here. And by ‘used to’, I mean before Panem even existed. I mean back in the days before the floods and quakes and some apocalyptic, omnipresent being called ‘Taylor Swift’. Before the Dark Days were even an idea. Back in some place called ‘America’.

I learned about it on one of the many, many runs from my dad. This isn’t a sob story, I’m not special because I have daddy issues and mommy got shot. I was too young to remember her anyway, and I’d be far from unique. But, I was still a child running away from his problems.

There are next to no natural areas in District 1, unless you count the trimmed, plastic gardens spaced in the richer neighborhoods. The whole place was paved over, factories, lakes wherever the eye could see. And so, the polluted little lake in the middle of the poorest part of our city was where I went. Sitting by the water, I’d dipped my feet in, because I was young and stupid and hadn’t heard the word cholera before; when my feet brushed something plastic. I’d leaned down, pulling it from the water, and inside was a book, shrink-wrapped in a sealed container, words Yorkwood Library stamped across the cover. With a bit of digging, I found three more, each with the same stamp. From then on, time to time I came back to that lake, occasionally dredging some scraps to acknowledge that yes, the world was, in fact, always this shitty.

Regardless, in my sessions of grey-area treason, I came the concept of ‘karma’. And, as I am realizing at this very moment she is, in fact, a bitch.

Yeah, as I was marched into the justice building, locked in the visiting room, left to stew in my own misery, a small voice in the back of my head reminded me that, alright, maybe this is a teensy tiny bit entirely my own fault. That maybe, when you’re a dick to everyone you meet, they just might take the opportunity to get rid of you.

However, that doesn’t make me want to kill them any less.

Quite honestly, I was expecting I wouldn’t get a single visitor, until Illias stormed through the doors, the wood cracking back against the concrete. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Yes, it’s my fault I was voted-” the first landed on my cheek landed before I could even react, wincing, clutching it as a peacekeeper snapped Illias from behind, handcuffing them together with a mutter of ‘no injuring the tribute.’

Like a rabid mutt, kicking and screaming, his skin bled red from trying to twist to pull his arms away as a second peacekeeper came to subdue him. “This was my turn, mine! I should be in there! Let go of me, they can’t take him if he’s dead!” As he was dragged out, I stayed glued to the couch, wondering if winning really was such a great idea anymore. Maybe I should just let him rip my colon through my nose. It may just be quicker at this point.

After he was gone, my father came in, Bravon stomping, Satin following like a kicked puppy at their heels.

Clearing his throat, Aren sat, face impassive. “So.”

There was a long, long pause, before Bravon decided to break the silence with a stomp. “You just had to spite us, didn’t you? You couldn’t let Illias have this, you just had to go and take it for yourself.”

“He can have it back. Please take it off my hands.” It was hard to keep the desperation from bleeding into my voice. I couldn’t be weak, not now, not until I was alone in the train.

“This isn’t funny.” He slammed his hands down in a way that was so Illias like, he had to have practiced. Big brother worship at it’s finest. “You’re going to die in there. He would have won.”

“Nice to know that’s why you don’t want me going in-”

“You never seemed to mind him dying, any of us dying, you never seem to care about mom, you never cared about Ale-”

“You expect me to have that much of an attachment to a woman I practically never met?” I could hear the waver, my pitch going up, volume going down, fists clenching behind my back. This wasn’t going to last. And he did not dare to bring up - stop. “What makes you so certain I won’t win?”

The silence said more than any ‘Bambi.’

“I can’t believe you.” Turning out, Bravon stormed through the doors. All that was left was dad and Satin.

“Son.” Aren stood, staring down at me. “You know how I feel. And you know how I feel about your brother. Don’t dishonor this family anymore. Win with dignity, or don’t come home at all.” And there he went. All that was left was Satin.

Biting his lip, Satin fidgeted in his seat, checking the door like some monster would spring and attack him.

“I know you can win.”

What? He said it so quietly, I...I couldn’t have heard it right.

“I know you can, Eli, I know it. They know it to. It’s why they’re angry, you’re taking Illias’s glory.” A small smile came to Satin’s face. “You’re going to outsmart them.”

With a slight gulp, I tried to keep my eyes from widening. “I…”

“Stunned? The great, verbose Eliot? I’ll take it as a victory.” Satin patted my shoulder, standing. “I love you, little bro. Go get’m. Size isn’t everything, right?” He glanced to the door again. “And don’t tell dad, but, I’m quitting the Academy.”

What? No. He. What?

“Mister Deamorte. He’s looking for an assistant, and Fiyero told me he said if I applied, I’d get it on the spot.” Today was just getting more and more confusing. I wanted to ask why, but, well… it was nice, having at least one person say they were rooting for me.

“I love you too.” With a sad smile, I pulled Satin into a hug. More than a little awkward, considering he had a full head on me, but I needed it. I’ve never needed it before. Right now, I needed it more than anything.

The peacekeeper on the other side knocked “Times up.”

With a shuddering breath, I pulled back. “Hey, Satin.”

“Yeah?”

I gave a small smile. “You get my room.”

---

Minutes later, I was in the car. I caught my reflection in the mirror, bruises blossoming on my cheek, hair splayed at every angle. I looked beaten, broken, and more than anything else, pissed. And, sadly, not in the strong, rage-filled vengeance quest I wanted. More like a petulant child.

I didn’t have any makeup, so I reached into my backpack, pulling out my hooded jacket, shoving the suit aside. Throwing it on, I pulled the strings so it covered my face. Alright, that works. When I went to put the pack back down, I heard the clink of glass.

Oh, right, I brought the perfumes.

With a sigh, I picked one up. Chamomile peppermint and a dash of rosemary, to calm anxiety and up your energy. I liked it, but it was far from popular. With a slight smile, I sprayed it on. I felt my shoulders relax, eyes drifting shut.

A few minutes later, I was shoved into the horde of paparazzi, vultures, whatever you can imagine. My face was hidden by the hood, thankfully. I hoped it came off dangerous, but I’m pretty sure I just looked scared shitless. Especially next to Amazonia; six foot two, with those grass green eyes that showed just how much she couldn’t wait to gouge out my own, muddy brown. I managed to glance in the reflection of one of the car windows and dear God. I looked like a terrified child hiding behind his mother. A mother who wants to eat him, but hey, that describes lots of kids here.

Mercifully, we were pushed through the doors, which shut behind us. I was alone, finally… okay, well, I wasn’t alone, there were Capitol people everywhere, plus Amazonia, but I was as alone as I was going to get until they gave me a room. So, I pulled down my hood, sighing in relief as the train began to move.

… And to stop again in another ten minutes.

Look, we’re on a Capitol trains, which go what, 250 MPH? From District 1, we’d be there in an hour. The Capitol doesn’t want that, they want all the tributes arriving on the same day, so the train sits here twenty four hours, as we twiddle our thumbs like schmucks.

Soon I was led to my room, which… wow… this… I was not expecting this. The walls were a lush glittery gold, muted enough a shade that it calmed instead of glared. The sheets were plush enough I thought they were actual clouds, a small window hanging above the bed showed the forest landscape I never thought I’d see. Pulling open the drawer, it was stuffed with thick wool, silk, cashmere everything. I’d never seen anything so luxurious.

Now, I live - lived, I corrected myself, then changed it back to live because I’m winning this thing damn it - in Victor’s Village, which is nice. Extremely nice. I figured I had as high a life as one could get, though I never took much advantage of it. As soon as dad dies I’d be kicked out. Even if one of my brothers won the games, there’s not a doubt in my mind they would have me arrested if I came over for tea.

… Except… apparently Satin.

Plopping down on the bed, I brought my knees to my chest, because this made no sense. Satin, I knew he was the smartest, I suspected he had more to life ahead of him than murder, but, well… I was never nice to Satin. I was probably worse to him than any of my other brothers, because Illias could step on me, and Bravon was a slightly smaller Illias. Satin, while still stronger than me and a good head, well, ahead, he never gave the same danger reading. I guess that made him the easier target.

Karma.

Honestly, the fact that he visited me, it made this so, so much worse. Because I could just run on rage before. I could blindly charge in because I had nothing to lose, everything to prove, and my only reason for coming home was to rub it in their faces. But now, Satin cared. Now I was going to have to deal with this guilt in the back of my mind. It’s so foreign to me, caring, and of course the first time I get it is right before I have to slit a twelve-year-old’s throat.

With a sigh, I stood again, heading into the bathroom. The shower was… I can’t even begin to describe this thing. The amount of buttons made it look like someone dropped an octopus tentacle in chrome. Well, I guess that does more than begin to describe it.

That wasn’t what I was looking for, though. After a bit of digging, I managed to find some makeup in the drawers. Half my face was plum colored now, ached at the slightest prod. My shoulder seemed popped too, and as the prod began to fade I felt the ache flowing through me. Gritting my teeth, I applied the cover-up, just enough to hide any evidence of getting clocked in the face. I’m sure my design team will have much better for this, and I was far from the best with makeup.

Though I know someone who is.

Ah, there, that’s something I can get behind thinking about. Fiyero Deamorte. All the things I was going to do to that brat when I saw him. This was his fault, all of it, I know it. As soon as it was announced, he turned to all his little followers, who turned to theirs, and that’s why everyone voted for me. I mean, I piss off a lot of people, but not enough to swing the entire youth population of a District to just write off the male candidate for victory. No, the only person with that kind of mind-control is same one who couldn’t spell it.

Soon, there was a knock at my door, offering to lead me to the dining room. I quickly stripped off my outfit, throwing on a pair that was labeled ‘sweatpants’ and a loose cotton shirt that felt like it didn’t exist. Seriously, I had to check the mirror five times to be sure I wasn’t actually naked. It was a strange sensation.

Then I’m led- dragged- to the table, large oak wood with golden finishing, with a white tablecloth. I wanted to take the moment to be impressed, but, instead, I just wanted to run back to the safety of my room because Amazonia was staring again.

“So you came, huh? Thought you would’ve offed yourself with a scarf by now, save us all the trouble.”

“Now, come on, you know nothing gives me more joy than being a pain in the ass.” I sat down across from her, rather impressed with the fact I didn’t actually melt into a pile on the floor.

“Smart. Smart’s not going to do you much good when there’s a sword in your gut.”

“Well I-”

“Tributes.” Lamar cleared his throat from behind me, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t jump. But I’m a liar, so, I did not jump.

“Finally, someone I can actually talk to.” Amazonia crossed her legs, clicking her tongue.

Sitting down at the head, Lamar cleared his throat. “First, we’ll get our food, then, we’ll begin to talk strategy.”

“We’re missing two people.” From everything I’d ever heard or read, the escort and other mentor join you for your meal.

“They’re…” There was the sound of shattered glass, a cheer, and loud laughter far down the hallways. “Occupied for now.”

Lovely.

Within a few moments, the meal began to arrive, and, I say this as one of the richest people, in the richest District, our most victorious lifespans yet, this is by far more food than I’d ever seen. I could see Amazonia outright salivating. Sometimes I forget, even in our District, more than a few people don’t get enough to eat.

But still, I didn’t even know this many types of food existed. I couldn’t recognize half the meats or vegetables, anything, really. They all just paraded in front of my eyes, and I knew now was not the time to try out a new fad diet, they’re called the Hunger Games for a reason, and with my metabolism, I would have about twenty minutes before I starved at my weight.

About halfway through them bringing out the first course, though, these little, for lack of a better term, white balls came out, sprinkled with green herbs - garlic, I was later told - with a cup of liquid butter next to it. I admit, I was interested.

They were the single best thing I have ever experienced in my life. Not the best food. The best anything. I’m rather sure they will forever be the best thing I will experience, sorry to any future children who are unfortunate enough to share my DNA, their birth will be about a four in comparison to this. Needless to say, I ordered another six rounds.

When all the food was brought, Lamar placed down his fork and knife. “Down to business. First, what skills do you have?”

Amazonia cracked her knuckles, and that’s when I noticed she’d actually sharpened her canines. Are you kidding me. “Are there any skills I don’t have?”

“Be specific, please.”

“Throwing knives, swords, spears, clubs, climbing, and tracking were all A subjects for me. I graduated top of the class every year I was in.”

Lamar gave a slow nod, jotting notes down in a small black book. “Swift?” I wasn’t sure if I should be glad or angry about the fact this man who’s known me since I could breathe seemed to have zero emotional attachment to my fate.

“I…” What could I say here? “Chemistry.”

Amazonia started to cackle, but Lamar glanced to her, and she stifled it with her napkin. “Anything else? Anything you have experience in?”

“Just chemistry.”

“... Chemistry,” he repeated in a low, incredulous voice. “Your skillset for a game of murder is chemistry?” And in that moment, I knew I no longer had a mentor.

After the meal, we’re led to another compartment where the TV takes up the entire wall. Lamar skips District 1, saving it for last. I want to complain, but, he’s just about the only person I can’t afford to hate me. Don’t care about me, fine, he wasn’t getting me any sponsors anyway, but on the astronomical chance someone does want to donate, I don’t want him refusing.

District 2 is even more terrifying than usual. They picked their best and brightest, no doubt, both boy and girl. And… I admit to possibly staring at the boy a bit longer than I should have. Shut up, I’m about to die, leave me alone. Only interesting thing from District 3 is the girl is twelve, possibly the only one my height and weight, so I can’t even begin to imagine what horrible things she did to get her name on the ballot. District 4 is like District 2, the District 5 boy broke down crying on the spot, District 6 boy did some strange hand thing, District 11 recruited a girl I think is an actual giant, and District 12 has just given up on ever winning again since their humiliation, because they sent up two fourteen-year-olds who barely knew what was going on. But, it’s still me and District 3 tied for smallest.

Finally, everything was brought back to District 1… and it was so much worse than I thought.

“They’re really sending up a twelve-year-old?”

“So sad, really, but what can you do, these things happen.”

“Oh, oh, oh, did you hear! He’s a Swift!”

“No way, like, the Aren Swift? I heard one of his sons was going up this year.”

“Just not the one everyone was looking for.”

“Aww, but look how cute he is, he’s swearing. It’s always so adorable when little kids try to sound grown up.”

My face was burning red, visible even through the makeup, and I knew Amazonia didn’t miss it. The look on Lamar’s face cemented it. I had no shot of getting help from him.

When I was led back to my bed, I was forced to look, objectively, at my circumstance. I was outmatched, outclassed in every possible way, I had no mentor, no chance of sponsors,

Amazonia would be gunning for me for bragging rights back home, I have zero survival skills that would actually apply to the games, and absolutely no one is rooting for me back home, except a brother who will get a beating if he says it.

I have this big rallying speech somewhere in my head, that it doesn’t matter everything is against me, an underdog chant, that I’ll win anyway, I’ll show karma who’s really a bitch. But it felt hollow, it felt fake even to me.

This is my time to cry. This is all I’ll have time for, because I won’t have much of it left. Whether that be through death or trauma.

So, I let it go. This was it, my chance to let go of years of pent-up hatred, guilt, you fucking name it. Towards what, I don’t know. For being small, for being temperamental, for never being good enough, for always knowing how I treated people was wrong but just never being able to stop my mouth before it moved. I didn’t know what the tears were for, pity for myself, anger at the world, maybe a bit of both. They were hot on my face, felt like someone cut open my eyes and let the blood drip down, thick and heavy down my cheeks, leaving wells in their wake. The water dripped onto the cloth, making it stick to my skin, and I could feel it, feel it cling to me, like it was trying to attack me, like everyone else.

Even if I survive this, I’m dead. There is no going home. There is no home anymore. Illias will never forgive me for taking what he worked his whole life for, Bravon never liked me to begin with, dad, I never told dad I loved him, that I cared, because he was just always there and the thought never crossed my mind that one day he just won’t. And Satin, if he’s smart, he’ll stay as far away from me if he can. I was alone before, I thought I was, but this is a new sort of alone. The last one was self-imposed, this is permanent.

And it’s all my fault. This is all my fault. As I slept, as I dreamed, I knew that one word would forever be burned into my bone marrow.

Karma.

#Hunger Games #Hunger games fanfic #Hunger games fanfiction #Eliot Swift #Amazonia Rhodes #The Alchemist Tributes

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symphonyofmars · 6 years

Text

House of the Dead 7

Everything is delightful when some people show up, but who are they? And what kind of people will they be in the future?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, NOTE

MASTERLIST

Word count: 2,654

Fandom: Riverdale

Characters: Malachi, OC (Woman), Archie, Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Cheryl, Toni, Penny

Pairings: Cannon show pairings (as of the end of season 2), Malachi/OC

Warnings: None for this chapter. The final smut vote has been tabulated and I promise the smut will happen eventually.

Note: Before you ask why Seph has the phone she does or why the band has their social media presence on the sites they do, please try to remember that she and Mal would have been in high school from about 2006-2010. These years are based off of Tommy Martinez’ age. (Since I’m pretty sure Malachi isn’t supposed to be a high school student in the show lol)

What Malachi felt could become a very comfortable routine – dinner at Big Al’s and then a concert at Bleeker’s – was again the plan for Friday. Once again, at Persephone's behest, Malachi drove safely to the diner and to the venue. Once again, they were gifted with black X’s when they paid their way inside and once again they made their way over to the box Persephone watched the concert from the week before.

Malachi helped her onto the box and was rewarded by being pulled gently towards her by the lapel of his jacket and kissed. It was the quiet moments like these that he loved. Where – despite the venue being almost at full occupancy that week – there was no one else in the room but them.

A happy “Hey guys!” from behind Malachi interrupted their make out session. They both, slightly annoyed, looked to see who it was and relaxed when it was Alex.

Persephone smeared her thumb over Malachi’s lips to get her lipstick off him and then pulled a mirror out of her bag and fixed her lipstick.

“Hey Alex, what's going on?” Malachi asked as he tried to get the rest off.

“Nothing much. I'm glad I found you guys, I wanted to introduce my friend to you, this is Violet. I told her about how you saved my glasses, Persephone, and she thought you were great.”

Persephone clapped the mirror closed and put it back in her bag. “Call me ‘Seph,’ less syllables. Nice to meet you, Violet.”

Alex looked from Violet to Persephone, “She-- she likes your name.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Mom was a bit of a Greek mythology nerd.”

Violet nodded. A lock of her mousey brown hair fell out from behind her ear and she tucked it back into place. Malachi didn't really think she looked like she belonged at a punk show wearing an oversized tan sweater and what looked like baby blue trousers, but he figured people could dress however they want.

He echoed Persephone's genial greeting with a “Hey.”

Violet smiled before turning away.

“The crowds pretty big tonight!” Alex said. “Someone told me that Bad Sex is pretty popular.”

Persephone smirked. “I can't see why.”

“Oh!” Alex laughed. “Good one. I didn't realize I did that.”

Malachi turned to Persephone and smiled, squeezing her knee.

Violet leaned over to Alex and whispered something, causing him to turn back to Malachi and Persephone.

“We're going to get some drinks, want anything?”

Malachi shook his head no and turned to Persephone who also shook her head no but added, “I hope you're not going to buy real drinks.”

Alex showed her the back of his left hand and smiled. “Just some sodas.”

“We're good. You go ahead.”

Violet followed Alex as he led the way to the bar, showing his hand to the bouncer who opened the rope for him. The bouncer signaled to the bartender who nodded and – as they were the only ones in the bar area at the time – shut off the lights illuminating the liquor shelves.

Extreme, Malachi thought.

“I thought they'd never leave,” he said as he turned back to Persephone. She giggled as he got close and kissed her with a few quick kisses.

Persephone watched as Alex ordered Violet’s drink for her. “She was a little weird, don't you think?”

Malachi turned and looked to the bar. Violet caught his eye and turned away. He turned back to Persephone. “Maybe I scare her?”

“You? Scary?”

He shrugged. “I’m a tall punk rock lookin’ dude, that has to scare some people.”

She rubbed her nose against his gently. “You’re an adorable boy is what you are.”

“I could be scary.”

“I don't think that's it,” she laughed gently.

“Then what is it?”

She watched Alex animatedly talking to Violet, who mostly looked away. Her eyes strayed over to where she and Malachi were a few times before quickly darting back.

“She didn't say anything for one thing.”

“Mmhm,” Malachi answered as he kissed her neck

“I don't know. I just get a weird vibe from her.”

“Hey,” he took her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers, “it's probably nothing, okay? She's probably just quiet and weird.”

Persephone kissed him before laughing into the kiss, breaking away to ask, “Do you think she'll join us at lunch too?”

Malachi chuckled. “At least she won't be as talkative as our buddy Alex.”

She smiled. “He seems harmless but he does interrupt a lot.”

He rolled his eyes and nodded.

Alex and Violet were ushered out of the bar area, drinks in hand, just as the first band came out.

It was probably good that the music was loud, because that meant that the only one who heard Persephone howling with laughter at the costuming of The Martin Luther Things was Malachi. The seriousness of their black suits combined with the silliness of the zombie makeup and the celebration of self in their hair brushed out into afros of various sizes struck something in her that she couldn’t put into words, and that made her completely giddy. He stood smiling with his arm around her as she tightly gripped the collar of his jacket and cried with laughter into his shoulder. The music of the band was somewhere between Rage Against the Machine, Weird Al Yankovic, and a band formed in their parent’s basement a week ago who had thought of a name and costumes but never actually practiced. While their mastery of their instruments was questionable at best, their songs were filled with a rage and nihilistic humor that Malachi found earnestly amusing… and Persephone obviously felt the same way since she was inconsolable throughout the entire set and shouted ‘I love them!’ several times between bouts of laughter.

In the break between the first and second bands, Persephone asked Alex to save her seat so she could go talk to the band members of The Martin Luther Things. She grabbed Malachi by the hand and dragged him over to the band who was busy organizing their gear so it could be moved.

“Hey,” She said with a wave.

“Hey,” He pulled part of his zombie makeup off and grimaced at the sweat underneath it.

“You the singer?”

“Yeah, name’s Zak.”

“I’m Persephone, this is Malachi.”

Malachi gave a short wave.

“Anyway, I loved your set, Zak, you guys were great.”

“Hey, that’s good to hear. We have some music on iTunes if you want to buy it and help us out.”

“Really? I’ll check it out.”

“No doubt, no doubt,” he drank from his bottle of water and sighed.

Persephone and Malachi turned to look at what he sighed at, only to be greeted with a shirtless man who walked over with a, “Don’t buy their music.” Neither of them could figure out why his shirt was off as the venue – thankfully – had working air conditioning. The only reason had to be to show off his body. He was almost as tall as Malachi and, admittedly, he was quite muscular but was covered in shitty stick-n-poke tattoos that took something away from his form. He pushed his shaggy brown hair out of his face and stared at Zak.

“Nice to see you, Damon,” Zak said sarcastically.

Damon got into Zak’s face and stood there for a moment. Malachi felt like it was a long moment, while Persephone was more than a little uncomfortable. After another beat, he made his way to the bar.

“What was that, about? Persephone asked.

“Damon is the guitarist of Bad Sex, they’re pretty popular on iTunes. He’s… well let’s just say that some people don’t really deserve fame.”

Persephone and Malachi both nodded empathetically while Zak sighed and took another drink of water.

“So, can I help you guys out with anything else?”

“Got any merch?” Malachi asked.

“We have a couple shirts,” Zak put his water bottle down and led them over to a box near their gear. “What size do you wear?”

“It’s for her. A small please.”

Persephone looked at Malachi and narrowed her eyes. “How did you know I wear a small?”

“I actually didn’t, I just guessed. But now I do,” he ended by smiling a manic, shit-eating grin at her. Which earned him a playful punch in the arm.

Zak laughed. “Sure, man.” He dug through the box and pulled a shirt out. Screen printed across the chest were the band members looking like zombies in black suits, all with Martin Luther King’s facial hair and the band’s name underneath. “10 bucks.”

Malachi dug into his pockets, found his wallet, and paid him.

Zak folded up the shirt and gave it to him and took the money. “Pleasure doing business with ya. I have to clean up some shit, I’ll see you two around.” Zak smiled and left to clean up his band’s gear.

“Thanks, man.” Malachi said as he unfurled the shirt and draped it across Persephone’s torso. “You look cute.”

She smiled at him in a way that was somehow both wry and seductively attractive, one eyebrow raised and one corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. It made his heart go thump.

“You’re just putting this on me so you have an excuse to touch me.”

“I’m obviously trying to make sure I got the right size.”

“Uh huh,” was her response, unimpressed.

He smoothed down the sides that hung at her waist and then pulled up the shoulders so the edges sat on her own shoulders. She giggled when he smoothed the hem down and let his fingers get caught in the hem of her skirt.

“Does it fit?”

He smiled. “Seems like it does.”

She laughed and took the shirt off and hooked it under the belt for safe keeping. “Let’s get back before the next band goes on,” she took his hand.

Malachi followed her as she weaved back through the crowd to where the boxes were, her smaller form more easily gliding between concert goers than his broad-shouldered self. Alex greeted her with a smile and moved out of the way so she could resume her spot. Malachi hoisted her back onto the box. He then turned to Violet.

“Can you see?”

She shook her head and answered quietly, “Not really.”

“Would you like to sit up there too?”

She looked at Persephone who was somewhere between unimpressed and reluctant before she moved over so Violet could have the seat nearer to the stage.

Malachi smiled at Violet encouragingly.

“Okay,” she said and handed her drink to Alex.

Malachi lifted her up and she sat on the box and Alex handed her drink back to her. She smiled shyly before averting her attention to the stage where the next band was still setting up.

Malachi stood next to Persephone and kissed her on the forehead.

“So, did you talk to the singer of The Martin Luther Things?” Alex asked.

“Yeah,” Persephone said, “he was pretty nice. This other guy, though--”

She was interrupted when the opening chords of a Captain Twerk song started started. Their tone was totally different, hip hop mixed with industrial mixed with who even knew what else. All of the songs were Star Trek themed or at the very least, sci-fi and space themed but with a retro feel. The entire band was made up of girls, and all of them were wearing the original 1960s Star Trek miniskirt uniform. Everyone except the drummer took turns twerking.

Persephone leaned in to Malachi’s ear. “I feel like… these two bands are more punk than the bands from last week just because they’re more subversive and like…” she trailed off and thought for a moment.

“Weird?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Like they’re trying to get at some kernel of truth no matter how strange it is and having a great time doing it.”

Malachi stared at her for a few moments and watched her react to the band.

Realizing she was being stared at, she looked at him. “What?”

He kissed her.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged. “You deserved it.”

She looked at him as he turned back to watch the band. Somewhat puzzled, she grinned and also turned her attention to the band.

Once the band was done playing, people began to mill about as they did when there was nothing interesting on the stage. Some got new drinks, some laughed loudly and shoved each other as they joked around, all were having a good time.

As Alex was excitedly explaining how ‘genius’ and ‘genre bending’ Captain Twerk’s combining of sci-fi tropes with hip-hop music was to a random person he seemed to have made friends with, Malachi noticed Damon next to the stage, looking at them. He didn’t want to turn to look at him head on for fear of provoking something, so he watched him out the corner of his eye. Although he couldn’t see the features of his face, he could clearly tell that his head was turned towards them and he was looking in their direction. Staring more like. Malachi watched him as he pretended to be interested in what Alex was saying.

“… I just think they did a really great job taking that kind of pervasive sexuality from the 1960s outfits and turning it on its head and taking it to an extreme in a really satirical way that’s really refreshing and interesting at the same time while still being entertaining.” Alex said as he finished his thesis.

“Take a breath dude,” Persephone chimed in, “you sound like you’re about to pass out.”

Alex inhaled and laughed and the person he was talking to laughed as well. “Sorry, I just think it’s really exciting when someone does something new.”

Persephone smiled and turned her attention to Violet. “Did you like it?”

“Yes. They were fun.” She answered quietly and looked into her drink.

Persephone nodded.

Damon finally stopped looking in their direction when the singer of the band called him over, something to do with the gear as they started looking at an amp and fiddling with the controls.

Alex went on and on about how much he liked the bands so far for a few more minutes until the last preparations of Bad Sex caused everyone’s attention to shift back to the stage. When the band started playing, Malachi wondered how they were the headlining band when their music seemed – to him – to just be an unimaginative rehash of music that had been made before. Strangely though, the crowd seemed more excited for them than the other two bands, he guessed because of the larger iTunes presence that Zak mentioned earlier.

“I've heard these guys have iTunes, Myspace, Facebook, LiveJournal, YouTube, Twitter, you name it, they have it. They even their own website, and they have their music and show dates on all of it.” Alex turned and shouted to his friends. “I think their guitarist is new though.”

There it was. They were everywhere on social media. Malachi looked from him and back to the band. Damon was swaggering around the stage and making lewd motions at the girls at near the front of the stage who responded with happy screams. He figured he knew what Zak had meant when he said he didn’t deserve fame.”

Persephone touched Malachi’s arm to get his attention.

“Kind of boring, don’t you think? They seem like a lot of punk bands from the late 90s.”

He nodded.

She took her phone out of her pocket, a pink Motorola razr, and looked at what she could of the internet and her twitter as she resigned herself to boredom until the set ended. Malachi, also bored, peered over her shoulder as she scrolled through her twitter, and they laughed together at the tweets of the funny people she followed and ignored the last band.

#malachi #malachi/oc #fanfiction #riverdale #riverdale fic #riverdale fanfiction #ghoulies #the ghoulies #original character #I think I've had three votes for smut #but it's going to happen much later #I'm not exactly super comfortable with writing people this far under the age of 18 having sex #I know that 15 year olds are having sex - some of the I knew when I was that age certainly were - but now that I'm older I'm like #YOU'RE BABIES! STOP THAT! GET OFF EACH OTHER! TERRIBLE!#I've turned from Ariel to King Triton lol #anyway #there will be smut #also I nearly forgot it was sunday #house of the dead

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trampisms · 6 years

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TASK 001 — DIG A LITTLE DEEPER (PART ONE / THE QUESTIONS)

BASIC INFORMATION.

What is your character’s full name? Michael Bennett How is it pronounced? Mike-al Benn-ett Is there a meaning behind it? His parents just liked the name, but Michael actually means ‘Who is like God’ which is ironic, because, not him. Does your character have any nicknames? He’s almost never referred to as Michael. He goes mostly by Tramp, a moniker given to him by his boss, Tony, who applauded how the then-teenager had ran away from home with no plan of action. When and where were they born? February 18th, 1991 in New York What’s their zodiac sign and what traits do they most relate to? Aquarius. Tramp doesn’t know much about astrology, but if he were to Google his sign and list off the traits that apply to him, he’d say that he agrees with the following: independent, runs from emotional expression, eccentric and often feeling limited/constrained. What’s their nationality? American What’s their occupation? His official title at Tony’s Italian Restaurant is dishwasher, but since he’s basically family to Tony himself, he’s sometimes allowed to make a few extra bucks bussing or waiting tables. His casual and not-so-legitimate side job is a street con artist. What gender do they identify themselves as? Cisgender male.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

What’s their eye color? Dark brown Do they wear glasses or contacts? Nope. Hair color? Dark brown, almost appears black when it’s all greased and slicked back. Have they ever dyed their hair or wanted to? Nope, why ruin his iconic look? Height? 5′9″. Body build? On the skinnier side, but surprisingly fit and healthy. Do they have any birthmarks? He has two tiny dark moles just beneath the lower left corner of his lips. Do they have any piercings or tattoos? Surprisingly, no. If not, do they want to get some? He’d definitely consider getting a tat or two! Do they have a healthy life style? No. He drinks and smokes excessively. How easy do they get sick? Not very, he doesn’t even seem to get hangovers. Any marks on their body ( injuries, … )? He has a couple small scars here and there from past minor altercations, but nothing major. What’s their personal style/how do they like to dress? Despite the constant comparisons to Danny Zuko from Grease, he’s more of a Kenickie. Bad-boy dress sense that’s heavily influenced by 50s Greaser style, but a little less polished. Black fitted tees, faded jeans with signs of wear and tear, Converse, leather jackets with a few scuffs on the sleeves. What is their favorite and least favorite feature about themselves? His hair is his favorite, obviously. His least favorite would probably be his... he’ll get back to you when he can think of something.

PERSONALITY.

Positive traits? He’s resourceful, independent and charming. Negative traits? He’s also deceptive, mischievous and cunning. What do they consider to be the best and the worst part of their personality? He loves his ability to get away with anything due to how undeniably likable he is despite his often rebellious behavior. The worst part would have to be his lack of motivation to chase a more fulfilling way of life, despite being unhappy with his current level of fulfillment. Are they more extroverted or introverted? Definitely extroverted! Any talents? ‘Charming’ people to get what he wants out of them, providing comic relief, and finding treasure in another man’s trash. He also occasionally sings and plays guitar, but this is just a casual hobby rather than something he takes seriously. What are their fears? Everything in his life eventually becoming boring. Do they have any phobias? Others seeing him vulnerable. What is their soft spot? Love. List 3 pet-peeves they can’t stand? Authority being taken too seriously, people with the inability to lighten up, upper-class folk looking down their noses at him.

EDUCATION.

How far did they go in school? Are they still studying? When Mike arrived in Carthay and Tony took him under his wing, he had the opportunity to go to college, but it was too much money and not really his kind of thing. Do/Did they like school? He liked high school, but it was mostly just the social side of it that he enjoyed, as well as a few classes such as Literature and Sociology. What type of student are/were they? He was the perfect combination of class clown and bad boy. The type of guy who had everyone wanting to sit at his lunch table, but would also be caught smoking and skipping class every now and then. What is/was their favorite subject? Literature. And their least favorite? Anything Math-related. What were they/would they have been voted as “most likely to…” in the yearbook? Most Likely to Defy Expectations

FAMILY.

Who are your character’s parents? Elizabeth Bennett (née Reed) and Larry Bennett. How would your character describe them? Mike resents Elizabeth and Larry a lot. They essentially kicked him out when he was still just a teenager, and that has had a deep, lasting effect on him. Despite this, he still loves his parents and misses what he had with them before they lost the ability to see eye-to-eye with him. Do they have any siblings? He has a little brother, Max, a thirteen-year-old who he has lovingly nicknamed ‘Scamp’. Tramp and Scamp are actually in contact with each other, they write letters back and forth, but have actually only met a handful of times due to the distance and estranged nature of their family. Are they close with their family? If all of that didn’t answer this for you already: no, he’s not.

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY.

What’s their romantic and sexual orientation? Bisexual and biromantic Are they seeing anyone right now? No? Maybe? It’s complicated. He’s definitely got his eye on one person only. Have they ever been in an relationship? Yes! Quite a few, actually. Have they ever been in love? He might be in love right now, for the first time — even if he can’t see it. How easy do they fall for someone? In his own words, “I never fall in love but I often fall in lust.” In their view, why didn’t any past relationships work out? Because he’s only ever treated romance as a source of validation, a way to feel wanted. What do they look for in someone? A taste for fun and a big heart. Do they believe in love at first sight and fate? Yes but also no. What’s their views on romance? Do they go after it or avoid it? He spreads romance around like a common cold, that’s for sure. But he’s starting to change now that he’s got his sights set on just one person, for the very first time. Did they have their first time already? How was it in their point of view? He doesn’t even remember his first time, he’s slept around a lot. What a hoe. What is their view on sex? People over-romanticize it. Sex is fun and people shouldn’t take it so seriously when it comes to judging others about it. What are their turn ons and turn offs? Turn ons: breathy whispers, eye contact, lots of kissing, lip biting. Turn offs: any cliches being used in dirty talk. Were they ever cheated on or have they cheated on someone? Not surprisingly, Tramp has cheated during past relationships, but he wouldn’t do it again. Do they want to get married in the future? Tramp Bennett? Tied down? Have kids? Tramp Bennett? A parent?!

QUIRKS.

Are they right or left handed? Right. What’s a word that’s always on their lips? “C’mon.” Is there a saying they keep on repeating? “It’s all ours for the taking!” Do they curse? Quiiite a lot. What’s their worst habit? Deceiving people. Do they drink or smoke? How frequently? Yes, frequently.Tramp finishes a pack of cigarettes every couple of days, and he drinks most weekends and some nights after work. Are they an early bird or a night owl? A night owl for sure. How tidy is their room? Put it this way, it’s far from perfect. His room is relatively hygienic but there’s quite a lot of clutter. How long to they usually take getting ready in the morning? Probably about half an hour, most of which is dedicated to his hair.

FAVORITES.

What’s their favorite color? Brown. Favorite movie? Into The Wild. Music Genre? Old Britpop and good ol’ rock n’ roll. Food? Spaghetti. Book? On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Favorite non-alcoholic drink? Coke. Ice Cream Flavor? Chocolate. Indoors or outdoors? Outdoors.

#carthaytask #carthaytask001 #jesus christ finally #(HEADCANON.)

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xcvfgt · 3 years

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megaphonemonday · 6 years

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gotta do what you’ve gotta do

romanceisreal: My favorite team (the Cubs) sometimes dress up for road trips (they did a 70s day, biker gang etc.) to improve morale. I vote the Padres adopt this trend and Al lets Ginny pick the theme!

I hope no one is surprised that I took the opportunity to let Ginny troll the team.

read on ao3

“I feel like a kindergarten teacher,” Al grumbled, “assigning classroom chores.”

Any disgruntlement in the complaint was belied by the fact that the Skip’s hand was already swirling through the blizzard of paper in Sonny’s hat, which had been sacrificed to the cause because, as Dusty put it, “You’ve got a big ass head, dude.”

Nevertheless, even a big ass hat was put to the test by the magnitude of its current task, a few chits threatening to spill over its brim. Nearly every Padre had jumped—judging by the far more than 24 slips tumbling around Al’s hand, Mike suspected some had jumped more than once—at the chance to pick the first (of what he hoped to God would be the last) theme for costumed team road trips.

That’s right. Costumed. Team. Road trips.

The front office had decided that if it was good enough for the Nats and the Cubs, it was good enough for the Padres.

To be fair, the mere idea had already worked some wonders on team morale. Mike couldn’t remember the last time there were so many players left in the clubhouse so long after a game without the involvement of ski goggles, champagne, and bad behavior. But here they all were, eagerly waiting on their manager to pick one of their names out of a hat.

Maybe they really were all kindergartners, just aching to be made teacher’s pet.

Not that Al was doing anything to quell the hushed thrum of expectation coursing through the room. The opposite was true, actually. He was taking his own sweet time. All he needed was to pick a piece of paper and read the name on it, which did not require the whole production this little ceremony had turned into. It just went to show that for all his grumbling, there was no chance Al wasn’t enjoying the hell out of this.

Didn’t matter that he’d told Mike in private this whole ordeal was a disaster waiting to happen; he’d still gone along with Oscar and would milk the opportunity for all it was worth.

Mike sighed and slumped further in his chair, just barely reining in the impulse to cross his arms over his chest and huff impatiently. He didn’t want to look petulant. (Didn’t want to hear he’d looked petulant from a certain pitcher, more like.) At the same time, though, if they didn’t get this show on the road, and soon, his knees would be the size of grapefruits in the morning.

“Nothing in kindergarten’s that random anymore,” Salvi pronounced sagely from his spot sprawled on one of the couches. He would know. The past four years, he’d had at least one kid in kindergarten. None of 'em had been held back, either. The Salvamini brood was just that plentiful.

Al rolled his eyes and finally plucked a slip from the hat. Of course that wasn’t the end of it, though. He unfolded the bit of paper, hummed seriously as he considered the name it revealed, and otherwise left his team nearly falling off the edges of their seats in suspense.

Well, most of them.

Personally, Mike had only put off his post-game ice bath so he’d have an idea of what—and whose sick sense of humor—he was about to be subjected to. As captain, it was probably better if he kept his name out of the running for this “honor.”

Probably.

Well, whatever. He was deeply unwilling to deal with the inevitable bitching and moaning that would erupt if he got picked, so his name stayed out of Sonny’s hat.

Looking around the room, Mike started to regret that decision, if only because he wanted at least a shot, however slim, at preserving his dignity. The only way that would happen, he just knew, was if it was his name plucked from that hat.

Because judging by the wicked gleam in his teammates’ eyes—Blip—they had nothing good planned.

And why would they? This newest PR stunt provided the perfect opportunity to enact some petty vengeance—which was probably not reflected of the front office’s analytics. But that was just their failure to take into account the one truth of all sports, amateur and professional alike: in any clubhouse, for any team, there was always a need for petty vengeance.

Mike knew it, though. And so, he resigned himself to his likely fate.

If it made the guys feel better to make him wear something ridiculous just to get on a plane, and it smoothed over some of his fuck ups from last season, Mike would play along. If not cheerfully, then at least without too much complaint.

If Skip would stop drawing out this whole ordeal, he would, at least.

Finally, Al cleared his throat and looked around the room, pinning each of his players with a hard stare and otherwise reveling in their eager anticipation. After a long pause that went beyond flirting with the dramatic and instead had it already smoking a post-coital cigarette—no one could say Al Luongo didn’t harbor an appreciation for the theatric—he announced, “Baker. First choice is yours, kid.”

As one, every set of eyes in the clubhouse swiveled to the team’s fifth starter where she stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. To her credit, she remained cool under the scrutiny, merely tilting her head to the side before nodding once, decisive.

“When do you want my pick?”

Al shrugged. Now that his moment was done, he was back to general disdain for the whole endeavor. “We leave for Colorado in a week. Give ‘em a day or two, but otherwise I don’t wanna hear about this again, understood?” That last was directed not just to Ginny, but the team as a whole.

There was a chorus of agreement and their manager hmphed, shaking his head and retreating to his office.

As soon as he was gone, though, attention—still hushed and more than a little tense—swung right back to Ginny, who at least had the grace and presence of mind not to look too smug about whatever she had planned.

Because judging by the look in her eyes, Mike could tell that she had something planned.

“So,” drawled Butch, breaking into the uncharacteristic quiet, “what’s the damage here, Baker? How bad are you gonna embarrass us?”

Mike wasn’t smart enough to look away when her eyes swept over the room and seemed to linger a beat longer on him. Instead, he stared back, gaze locked with Ginny’s, almost daring her to bring it on.

Something bright and dangerous burned in her gaze, kicking into high gear when she realized she had his attention. (As if she ever didn’t.)

A smirk fought with her placid expression, but innocence won out. Ginny blinked and opened her big, brown eyes wide and guileless. No one was fooled. Especially not when she answered, “I haven’t decided yet. But I’m sure you’ll all look great.”

If Ginny’s intention in the next five days was to whip her teammates into a frenzied froth of worry about the potential damage to their—largely inflated, in Mike’s opinion—street cred, she did an admirable job of it. More than admirable. Masterful.

Not once did she give a teammate a straight answer on any of her plans. She didn’t even give a slanted answer. Or any answer at all, really. It wasn’t for lack of effort on the team’s part.

Mostly, she’d reply with an enigmatic, if pitying, smile. Sometimes, though, Ginny showed off her truly troubling command of psychological warfare. She had an unnatural knack for drawing out some of their worst fears—like the way she got Hanan to admit to his recurring nightmare where she had them all wearing hyper-realistic masks of one another and he couldn’t figure out who was who—and then responding with a considering hum, like she was tucking away the idea to mull over.

Since, on more than one occasion, she left cryptic lists with such worryingly disparate items as “rainbow body glitter” and “viking helmets” and “Care Bears???” around the clubhouse—probably for the express purpose of being found—Mike was inclined to think she was just fucking with them and taking a lot of pleasure in the resulting meltdowns.

(Inclined because she hadn’t given him a straight answer, either. And he’d asked so nicely too.)

When she consistently denied any knowledge of these lists, smile wavering between bemused and benign, to whichever teammate brought the latest to her attention, he became sure.

Ginny wasn’t stupid. Far from it, actually, which was more than he could say for some of his teammates. She’d pick—had probably already picked—something that was fun and, yeah, likely embarrassing, but it wouldn’t be the catastrophe so many Padres feared. Ginny liked messing with them all, maybe a little too much even, but she wasn’t going to risk stirring up real shit so early in the season. She was still coming off her injury and it was clear the team trainers were prepared to pull her for the slightest whiff of a relapse. No way she’d put her spot in the rotation in jeopardy for a wholly separate issue.

Which wasn’t to say that Mike wasn’t a little worried about what was going to unfold—the field day the media’d have or how many pictures of him in something regrettable would circulate on Twitter by the end of the day, clogging his mentions—but none of it was because of Ginny.

Of all his teammates, Ginny was the least likely to pick something specifically to make him look bad.

Supplying booze and food every Thursday in Arizona had done a lot to rebuild the team’s goodwill, but Mike knew better than to think that last season’s near-trade fiasco was forgotten. He wouldn’t put it past one of them to take the opportunity to teach him yet another lesson about team loyalty.

What could he say? Petty vengeance.

But there was far more than a bungled trade attempt hanging between him and Ginny.

Not that they were talking about that. And not that not talking about it had gotten great results.

Don’t get him wrong; Ginny’d crushed it in Spring Training, but that was in spite of whatever the hell was bubbling up between them, not because of it. She was a gamer and Mike was willing to admit that he had nothing on her ability to focus on the game above and beyond anything else.

It didn’t matter how many dangerous looks and almost-moments had passed between them in Peoria. It didn’t matter that Mike still found himself staring at Ginny far longer than he should or itching to call her before he went to bed, let her voice lull him to sleep. It didn’t matter that every inning he played with her, every day that passed, he was more and more sure he didn’t want a life without Ginny Baker in it.

There were lines that he— she— they shouldn’t be crossing. Shouldn’t even consider crossing until he wasn’t her captain. No matter how much he, she, they—God, he hoped it wasn’t just him—might want to.

Which was why Mike was mostly going to stay out of this whole costumed road trip thing and just let it happen.

Unfortunately—or not if that meant he was the only one dealing with this quandary—no one else was taking his lead. Seven straight days Mike was forced to listen to his teammates try to alternately cajole and bully a real answer out of Baker. He couldn’t count the ways they’d tried to get her to spill, offering up food, faulty logic, even favors, paying far too much attention to the one woman in the world who didn’t need more of it.

Mike was at his wit’s end. And not just because Ginny suddenly had so much less time to tease him, specifically, when she was working on pulling one over on the entire team.

So it was no wonder that, on the day of her deadline, Mike’s teeth were already on edge even as he went through the motions of priming his body to play.

“Not even one hint?” Stubbs wheedled, aiming what he probably thought were puppy eyes at Ginny where she sprawled on one of the couches, trying to go over hitters for her next start.

“You’ll find out after the game,” she returned without even looking up. She didn’t even sound interested in playing with them all anymore, the tick in her jaw telegraphing her annoyance for anyone watching closely enough to see.

Which, apparently, was just Mike.

Salvi came and flopped down just next to her feet, squashing himself against the armrest. Rolling her eyes, she drew her legs back in, grudgingly ceding him the cushion. Just in time for him to ask, “You weren’t serious about that list, right? The one with the chaps and the sequined vests?”

“Uh, sure,” Ginny replied absently.

“Sure, you weren’t serious or sure, you were?”

“Yep.”

Salvi gave up, but someone else was willing to take on the fight.

“How about the Minions costumes? Those things’ve invaded my nightmares. My kids won’t stop watching those fucking movies.”

Rather than reassure Butch, though, Ginny remained silent. Apparently, only Mike could tell it was just because she was too caught up turning someone’s heat map over in her mind, trying to puzzle her way into an assured strikeout.

“Baker, you can’t do that to me. My girl’s never gonna let me live it down!”

“Yeah, you gotta give us a hint!”

“C’mon, Baker.”

“Ginny, please?”

That was more than enough of that. And not just because Robles was practically pouting, flashing hopeful looks her way.

“Jesus H. Christ, shut the hell up!” Mike exclaimed, exploding to his feet and throwing his water bottle into his locker. He didn’t wait for quiet to descend, just wheeled on the room and barreled on, shouting through the ache his jaw had earned grinding his teeth for the past week. “Would you listen to yourselves? All this fucking whining over a stupid costume!”

Shaking his head in disgust and electing to ignore the curious glint in a certain pitcher’s eye, Mike took a deep breath.

“You’re all acting like a bunch of goddamn babies,” he sneered, staring down a suddenly cowed group of grown ass ballplayers. Fucking good. They should be embarrassed. They were fucking embarrassing. “Quit riding Baker’s ass worrying about what she’s gonna make you wear and start worrying about the game we’re supposed to play today. Or did you all forget that’s why we’re here?”

There was a chorus of sheepish agreement, a few apologies tossed Ginny’s way, and ballplayers began dispersing to their lockers to finish getting ready or grab their gear and head for the field. For his part, Mike dropped back into his seat, moodily taping up his fingers and ignoring every Padre left in the clubhouse until he had a better handle on his irritation.

Even when one of them kicked his chair.

Ginny huffed, nudging Mike’s knee with hers when he didn’t react. Since it seemed unlikely that she’d go away until he at least acknowledged her presence, he lolled his head to the side, peering up at her.

“You doin’ okay there, cap?” she drawled, raising one sardonic eyebrow even as her lips curved in a faint frown. Clearly, she didn’t just mean his outburst; she actually looked worried about him.

“I’m fine,” he replied, gruff, though he did do his best to release some of the tension in his shoulders. Since her mouth straightened out at that, he figured he was at least halfway successful. “Be better when this is all behind us. You sure you’ve got something planned? Something good enough to make up for this circus?”

A wicked grin took root and blossomed on Ginny’s face, nearly knocking the breath straight from Mike’s wholly unprepared lungs. Backing away and still grinning, she assured, “Oh, I’ve got something planned, all right.”

“There’s no way you already had this planned,” Mike grouched as the woman responsible for his current predicament slid into her seat across the aisle from him. He looked forward to the day that she could just sit next to him the way they had almost all of last season. Though considering what she—and he, to be honest—was wearing, it was probably better to have a little distance.

Ginny grinned and Mike would’ve gotten lost in the brilliance of it if Salvi hadn’t sauntered by, pale, hairy legs interrupting his view. Jesus Christ, where were the man’s pants?

And why the hell had he wondered that more than once—and for more than one person—today?

Oh, right. Ginny’s chosen theme.

Why so many of them had gone so hard for Ginny’s choice, Mike would never understand. They’d been so concerned she would embarrass them and then they go and do it to themselves.

Well, it wasn’t as if a theme like “Pre-K Padres” didn’t give them plenty of opportunity to do so.

(”Listen,” she’d said as she announced her pick after the game, “and I’m not gonna say this often, so get your phones out to record this for posterity,” she paused there, milking the moment as masterfully as she’d played every last Padre over the past week, “but Lawson was right.” That earned a round of chuckles and prompted an exaggerated eye roll from Mike. He meant it a little, but given the way Ginny was grinning, dimples tucked deep into her cheeks, it was hard to be truly annoyed.)

She laughed and Mike was glad to have another reason to turn his attention away from Salvi’s diaper-clad ass and the water fight Stubbs and Butch were conducting with their oversized baby bottles. “No, but it would’ve been amazing if I had.”

“Amazing might be pushing it,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat. Not from any discomfort, though. Mike wasn’t ashamed that this thing he was wearing was more comfortable than he’d expected, but he also wouldn’t be admitting it to anyone. If he didn’t immediately donate it to Goodwill when this day was over, that was his business and his alone.

So what if the last time he’d worn footie pajamas, he’d been five and just starting kindergarten? A man didn’t outgrow comfort.

Adding to his comfort level was the fact that Ginny’d fallen into his—and the saner members of the Padres organization—camp when deciding on her costume.

It was bad enough that his dream of never seeing a single one of his teammates in an adult-sized diaper—even if they were the costume ones from Party City or something—had gone up in flames today. If she’d done it, too, he’d have to murder something.

Because prolonged exposure to Ginny Baker’s bare legs would leave him in serious need of a defibrillator by the end of the day. Much better that she went the footie pajama route. Well, mostly better. At least this way, Mike didn’t have miles and miles of smooth, brown skin to be distracted by.

He'd stick to the normal levels of distraction Ginny Baker inspired off the field, thanks.

She did, after all, look downright adorable in her Padres-branded onesie. Dressed as she was, it was all too easy to imagine her curling up in bed, ready to fall asleep. From there, it was just a hop, skip, and a jump for Mike’s overeager imagination to picture himself tucked around her, either drifting off, too, or more intent on keeping them both awake a little longer—

And that was why the aisle currently separating them was a good, a necessary, thing.

Mike shook himself and refocused his mind on the more academic question of where the hell Ginny’d even found a Padres onesie, let alone one in her size. The only one he’d managed to track down that even came close to fitting was plain red, more like long underwear than anything a little kid might wear. But it wasn’t as if he was fooling anyone anyway, not with a full beard and 210-odd pounds of muscle. The onesie did fit a bit snug around his thighs and across his chest, but it got the job done well enough to avoid any heckling from his teammates.

At least his didn’t have an ass flap. Unlike Dusty’s.

The fact that Ginny’s attention didn’t waver for a second, even in the face of Dusty’s bare ass going by, her eyes firmly on Mike and the slightly strained buttons marching down his chest didn’t mean anything. It definitely didn’t make him puff up and put those buttons under just a little more strain.

No, of course not.

Her eyes flickered back up to his, pupils blown out and cheeks a shade pinker than normal. Mike tried to tell himself it was just the fleece of her costume making her warm. He was only mildly successful.

Still, she rallied admirably. “What did I say, Lawson? You were totally right,” Ginny teased, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth and making him even more aware of how much he wanted to taste it than he usually was. And he was usually very aware of that fact. “They’re a bunch of babies. Might as well dress them like it.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he laughed, locking away that desire for another time.

“You really need the reminder?” She laughed, too, but her brows drew down just enough for Mike to glimpse the undercurrent of worry.

He couldn’t have that. Ginny wasn’t close enough for him to reach out for her hand or shoulder, or anywhere safe enough for him to touch, but he could put all his assurance, his confidence, in his ready reply.

“No.”

“Good.”

It wasn’t talking about it, literally not even in the realm of talking about it, but that was just fine in Mike’s book. Not that he didn’t want to talk about it. He definitely did, and sooner rather than later if he was being honest, just—

What he didn’t want was for that conversation to take place while he was wearing footie pajamas.

Ginny could keep hers, though.

“Yeah, Baker,” he said anyway. “It’s definitely good.”

Her responding smile, just a quick quirk of her lips really, told him everything he needed to know. She was on the same page. At this point, he couldn't ask for much more.

Except then, without any prompting, Ginny squared her jaw, picked up her backpack, and slid across the aisle into the empty seat next to him. She didn't do anything so obvious as lean her head against his shoulder, but her knee did press against his and her fingers trailed across the back of his for a moment before elbowing him off the arm rest.

“Still good?”

Swallowing to keep the surging tide of emotion in check, he nodded and managed a hoarse, “Yeah,” in response.

It wasn't winding himself around her in bed, even just to sleep, but Mike had a hard time imagining that anything could really top this. And all because of a stupid PR campaign.

Well, Mike was a big enough man to admit when he was wrong, if only to himself. Maybe, he considered as Ginny's shoulder pressed into his bicep and a stray curl brushed against his neck, just maybe, the front office isn’t full of number crunchers with terrible ideas. If the next one got him a payoff half as good as this—Mike couldn’t fathom how this, Ginny as close to tucked against his side as they could come with an armrest trapped between them, on a bus surrounded by their teammates too, could ever be equalled short of a new MLB mandate encouraging intra-team relationships—he might even consider going along with their next bright idea.

For now, though, he’d be keeping that thought, as well as most of the other ones currently occupying his imagination, to himself for later mulling. He had other things to occupy his attention at the moment.

Well one thing. One woman.

One woman who was currently grinning up at him, offering a truly awful opinion about Star Wars and just begging to be schooled.

If that was what she wanted, well, Mike was more than happy to give it to her.

#Bawson #Bawson fic #pitch #pitch fic #i wrote something #If you think i don't wanna see #mike and/or ginny #wearing exactly that #and wrote a fic to reflect it #you'd be very very wrong #be the change #etc etc #here have this #before i get sucked into the last night of skating

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gaymusicchart · 6 years

Video

youtube

GAY MUSIC CHART - 2018 week 16

Welcome to the Gay Music Chart, the LGBTQA related music videos TOP 50 actuality and most request.

Vote for your favourite LGBTQA related music videos by leaving a comment for this post on :

YOUTUBE (in the comment section of the video of the week) : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCz7yfp-xq-b08tD6mAWwclA

BLOGGER : http://gaymusicchart.blogspot.fr

FACEBOOK : https://www.facebook.com/GayMusicChart/

TWITTER : https://twitter.com/GayMusicChart with #GayMusicChart

TUMBLR : http://gaymusicchart.tumblr.com

Here is the recap for this week :

OUT : DRANGSAL - Arche Gruber (Offizielles Lyric Video) (LW: 26 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 26)

OUT : LINES - Lockdown (LW: 28 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 28)

OUT : Halsey feat. Big Sean, Stefflon Don - Alone (LW: 29 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 29)

OUT : morgxn - Carry The Weight (LW: 32 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 32)

OUT : CupcakKe - Crayons (LW: 34 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 22)

OUT : Virgin Suicide - Evil Eyes (LW: 36 / WO: 18 / PEAK: 05)

OUT : Lycinaïs Jean - Parfait Tourment (LW: 37 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 37)

OUT : Rayvon Owen - Gold (Lyric Video) (LW: 38 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 38)

OUT : Natti Vogel feat. Matthew Wilkas - Brown Rice (LW: 39 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 39)

OUT : CRIMER - Cards (LW: 40 / WO: 5 / PEAK: 31)

OUT : Sateen - Finer Things (LW: 42 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 42)

OUT : G E S S - Spilled Milk (LW: 43 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 43)

OUT : Sam Smith feat. Logic - Pray (Audio) (LW: 45 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 45)

OUT : Mikey - Paths (LW: 47 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 47)

OUT : MIDDLESPOON - LightningBug (LW: 48 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 48)

OUT : Alvin Point - Oui, Papa (LW: 49 / WO: 1 / PEAK: 49)

01 (=) : Ryan O'Shaughnessy - Together (LW: 01 / WO: 6 / PEAK: 01 (x3))

Ireland - 2018

This sweet ballad will represent Ireland at the Eurovision Song Contest 2018. The music video is so cute.

02 (+ 16) : Michael Blume - Blunder (LW: 18 / WO: 6 / PEAK: 02)

USA - 2018

03 (=) : Matt Palmer - Inevitably (LW: 03 / WO: 10 / PEAK: 03)

USA - 2018 / from the EP "Get Lost"

04 (+ 9) : Namuel - Poder (LW: 13 / WO: 8 / PEAK: 04)

Chile - 2018

05 (+ 5) : SAKIMA - Daddy (LW: 10 / WO: 18 / PEAK: 05)

UK - 2017

06 (=) : Allie X feat. VÉRITÉ - Casanova (LW: 06 / WO: 16 / PEAK: 03)

Canada - 2017 / from the album "CollXtion II"

07 (+ 7) : Calum Scott - What I Miss Most (1 Mic 1 Take/Live From Abbey Road Studios) (LW: 14 / WO: 6 / PEAK: 07)

UK - 2018 / from the album "Only Human"

08 (+ 9) : Kevin Chomat - Petite Fée (LW: 17 / WO: 6 / PEAK: 08)

France - 2018

The French singer has made a song to support Lana, a young girl who has a rare genetic disease called neurofibromatosis.

09 (- 2) : Saara Aalto - Monsters (LW: 07 / WO: 10 / PEAK: 05)

Finland - 2018

This song will represent Finland at the Eurovision Song Contest 2018.

10 (- 8) : Years & Years - Sanctify (LW: 02 / WO: 6 / PEAK: 01 (x2))

UK - 2018

Years & Years singer Olly Alexander says the band’s new single Sanctify is about straight men who experiment with gay sex.

11 (- 7) : Netta - Toy (LW: 04 / WO: 4 / PEAK: 04)

Israel - 2018

This song, made by gay composer Doron Medalie and his partner and producer Stav Beger, will represent Israel at the Eurovision Song Contest 2018. It is already by far the great favorite for fans and bookmakers.

12 (+ 3) : Baby Yors - Bad Influence (LW: 15 / WO: 3 / PEAK: 12)

Argentina, USA - 2018

13 (- 8) : Francisco Victoria - Marinos (LW: 05 / WO: 16 / PEAK: 03)

Chile - 2017

This is the first single of the Chilean singer, produced by Alex Anwandter. A revelation.

14 (- 3) : Trevor Moran - Sinner (LW: 11 / WO: 19 / PEAK: 01 (x2))

USA - 2017

15 (+ 12) : Lostchild - Blacklist (Acoustic) (LW: 27 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 15)

UK - 2018

16 (NEW) : Garek - Silhouettes & Ghosts (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 16)

USA - 2018

Champion in 2017 of the Gay Music Chart with his song "Stray", the singer is back with a new original track.

17 (+ 16) : Hayley Kiyoko - Curious (LW: 33 / WO: 14 / PEAK: 08)

USA - 2018 / from the album "Expectations"

In her new song, Hayley is wondering why the girl she's dating is dating also another guy in the same time.

18 (+ 28) : Todrick Hall - Type (LW: 46 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 18)

USA - 2018 / from the album "Forbidden"

19 (- 11) : Janelle Monáe - Make Me Feel (LW: 08 / WO: 8 / PEAK: 02)

USA - 2018 / from the album "Dirty Computer"

20 (- 8) : Sufjan Stevens - Mystery of Love ("Call Me By Your Name" OST) (LW: 12 / WO: 23 / PEAK: 01 (x1))

USA - 2017 / from the album ("Call Me By Your Name" OST)

The song was nominated for the Oscar of Best Original Song at the Academy Awards 2018.

21 (- 5) : DJ Aron & Beth Anne Sacks - Imagine (LW: 16 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 16)

USA - 2018

22 (NEW) : Francisco Victoria - Todo lo que tengo (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 22)

Chile - 2018

23 (- 4) : Kylie Minogue - Dancing (LW: 19 / WO: 12 / PEAK: 01 (x3))

Australia - 2018 / from the album "Golden"

24 (NEW) : Ryan Cassata - Daughter (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 22)

USA - 2018

The transgender singer talks in his new song about his transition and his relationship with his father.

25 (RE-ENTRY) : Les Funambules feat. Maximilien Philippe - Pardon (LW: - / WO: 4 / PEAK: 15)

This song is the confession of a man who's quitting his wife because he realised he was gay.

26 (- 17) : Calum Scott - You Are The Reason (LW: 09 / WO: 21 / PEAK: 04)

UK - 2017

27 (- 6) : Blake McGrath - Love Yourself (LW: 21 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 21)

Canada - 2018 / from the EP "I am Blake McGrath"

This music video shows Blake growing up from childhood to teen years and finally becoming an adult. You will perhaps recognize Sage Rosen playing teenage Blake, who was in the music video “Worth It (Perfect)” from Superfruit last year.

28 (+ 3) : Holland (홀랜드) - Neverland (네버랜드) (LW: 31 / WO: 12 / PEAK: 08)

South Korea - 2018

This is the first South Korean music video showing a gay couple kissing in a romantic way.

29 (- 9) : Keiynan Lonsdale - Kiss The Boy (Official Lyric Video) (LW: 20 / WO: 3 / PEAK: 20)

Australia - 2018

30 (NEW) : Pabllo Vittar - Indestrutível (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 30)

Brazil - 2018 / from the album "Vai Passar Mal"

This music video denounces bullying.

31 (NEW) : Kodaline - Follow Your Fire (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 31)

Ireland - 2018

There is a gay couple in this music video.

32 (NEW) : Khansa x Zahzah - Qesat Al Ams / قصة الأمس (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 32)

Lebanon - 2017

33 (- 10) : Jessica 6 - The Storm Inside (LW: 23 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 23)

USA - 2018

This is the new single of the Puerto Rican transgender singer based in New York, also known as Nomi Ruiz.

34 (+ 7) : Todrick Hall feat. RuPaul - Dem Beats (LW: 41 / WO: 4 / PEAK: 28)

USA - 2018 / from the album "Forbidden"

35 (NEW) : Mandaue Nights - First Kiss (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 35)

Philippines - 2018

In this music video about a love triangle, a boy falls in love with a girl, who's in love with another girl. This is their first single.

36 (NEW) : Rubby - No Más (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 36)

USA - 2018

37 (NEW) : Kesha - I Need a Woman to Love (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 37)

USA - 2018 / from the EP "Universal Love: Wedding Songs Reimagined"

The six-song EP, featuring Bob Dylan, St. Vincent, Kele Okereke, Valerie June, Benjamin Gibbard and Kesha, is comprised of traditional wedding songs redesigned for same-sex couples. In this music video, Kesha marries a lesbian couple.

38 (+ 6) : MNEK - Tongue (LW: 44 / WO: 7 / PEAK: 22)

UK - 2018

39 (NEW) : David Guetta & Sia - Flames (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 39)

France / Australia - 2018

40 (- 18) : LAUD - У Цю Ніч / U Tsyu Nich / In This Night (LW: 22 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 22)

Ukraine - 2017

In this music video, girls kiss each other and other boys.

41 (NEW) : TWICE (트와이스) - What is Love? (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 41)

South Korea - 2018 / from the mini-album "What is Love?"

In this music video, the members of this South Korean girl band play several movies's iconic straight couples. This is already a hit with 42 millions views in less than a week.

42 (- 12) : Troye Sivan - Strawberries & Cigarettes ("Love, Simon" OST) (LW: 30 / WO: 5 / PEAK: 12)

Australia - 2018 / from the album "Love, Simon" OST

43 (- 18) : SHEE - Eyes Shut (LW: 25 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 25)

UK - 2018

This music video shows a surprising choreography with long kisses between two men.

44 (NEW) : MARUV & BOOSIN - Drunk Groove (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 44)

Ukraine - 2018

45 (+ 5) : Cub Sport - Crush (LW: 50 / WO: 2 / PEAK: 45)

Australia - 2018 / from the album "Bats"

46 (RE-ENTRY) : Jordan LeShea - Alone (LW: - / WO: 3 / PEAK: 31)

47 (NEW) : Oscar Zia feat. Leslie Tay - Kyss Mig i Slo-mo (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 47)

Sweden - 2018

48 (- 24) : Openside - I Feel Nothing (LW: 24 / WO: 10 / PEAK: 11)

New Zealand - 2017

Lead singer Possum Plows, who is gender non-binary, raises the transgender flag in this music video.

49 (- 14) : Rotten Guitars - Aaja Saiyaan (LW: 35 / WO: 3 / PEAK: 19)

India - 2018

This brilliant music video depicts the difficulties to have a gay relationship in a country where homosexuality is still criminalized. It's a tribute to all those who were being killed for loving against the Section 377 law. A must see.

50 (NEW) : Aretuza Lovi, Solange Almeida - Arrependida (LW: - / WO: 1 / PEAK: 50)

Brazil - 2018

ALSO NEW THIS WEEK

Sam Tsui - Clumsy

USA - 2018 / from the album "Trust"

Janelle Monáe - Pynk

USA - 2018 / from the album "Dirty Computer"

Young M.A - Who Run It

USA - 2018

The out rapper shot a lesbian porn movie for Pornhub.

Antonio Navarro - Para Un Adiós

Spain - 2018 / from the EP "Credulitae"

Hampus Carlsson - Gjorda för trubbel

Sweden - 2018

Alban Bartoli - Liés

France - 2018

Blake McGrath - Harder Than The First Time

Canada - 2018 / from the EP "I Am Blake McGrath"

Pentatonix - Perfect

USA - 2018 / from the album "PTX Presents: Top Pop, Vol.I"

Kay Sik Cheong Lee 施长礼 - We Are One (海洋保护主题曲）

Malaysia - 2018 / from the album "Genesis"

This collaboration with the Ocean Project organisation wants to alert people about the negative effects of climate warming. Presented last year in the chart, it has now an official music video.

Todrick Hall feat. Brandy - Lullaby

USA - 2018 / from the album "Forbidden"

Michael Perry - So High

USA - 2018 / from the album "Underwear Model"

Danielle Alexa - Spin In Circles

USA - 2018

Drag queens Laganja Estranja and Gia Gunn disguise the singer as a drag king in this music video.

DioSSa - Mi Sitio

Spain - 2018

Yuhua Hamasaki feat. DJ Mitch Ferrino - The Ankh Song

USA - 2018

This is the first track of the drag queen from RuPaul's Drag Race season 10.

Adam Joseph feat. Lady Red Couture - The Rent (Remixed by Le Grind)

USA - 2018

Sergey Lazarev - You Are The Only One (Matt Pop Club Mix, Unofficial)

Russia / UK - 2018

Steps - Chain Reaction (Live From The SSE Arena, Wembley)

UK - 2018

Netta - Toy (Live @ Israel Calling 2018)

Israel - 2018

Raoul y Agoney - Manos Vacias (live @ Operación Triunfo - Gala 7)

Spain - 2018

Saara Aalto - Monsters (LIVE in 34 languages)

Finland - 2018

K's Choice - Liefde voor Muziek

Belgium - 2018

Woodkid & Louis Garrel - L'aérogramme de Los Angeles

France - 2018 / from the album "Génération(s) éperdue(s)"

The album is a compilation and a tribute to singer Yves Simon.

See you next week and don’t forget to vote for your best LGBTQA music videos ! Here are the rules :

1 ) You can vote for many videos as you want under the videos on YouTube in the comment section. It could be recent or past music videos, which must provide at least one among the following conditions:

- the music video has LGBTQA related content, in the lyrics or the music video

- the artist is LGBTQA, an LGBTQA icon or eventually ally

- LGBTQA medias talked about it.

2 ) You can’t vote more than 3 songs of a same artist per week.

3 ) In case of an artist who receive votes mostly by a fan base, we will count only one song, in a limited time of 10 weeks of presence in the top.

4 ) You can vote with only one account.

5 ) If you make 5 votes or less, your first vote will represent 5 points, your second vote 4 points, etc… until your last vote and following 1 point. If you make 6 to 10 votes, your first vote will represent 10 points, your second vote 9 points, etc… If you make more than 10 votes, your first vote will represent 20 points, your second vote 19 points, etc…

6 ) People who make 1 to 5 votes form the amateur ranking, those who make 6 to 10 votes form the fan ranking, those who make more than 10 votes form the expert ranking. We form the jury ranking. And we count now the ranking of minutes of views of our weekly playlist of the previous week. The Gay Music Chart is the addition of the five charts. In case of equality, the number of votes and the dates of votes will count.

7 ) The votes will close on Thursday, 8 PM, European time.

#Gay Music chart #lgbt #queer #2018 week 16

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