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mimitxtghost · 5 years

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THE GUY WHO GREW HORNS:

I found a story similar to what TXT went with. It is one of a boy who grew horns. I read it and found it quite entertaining. So I think you might like it too.

“ In the aftermath of his girlfriend's mysterious death, a young man awakens to find strange horns sprouting from his temples.“ - Anonymous

Here is the synopsis:

Ignatius Perrish (Daniel Radcliffe) was always seen by the people in town as an outsider. None of that mattered to him, because he was in love with Merrin Williams (Juno Temple). They are lying beneath a tree in the woods kissing. She asks him if he's horny. He says he's getting there. Ig promises to love Merrin for the rest of his life. She just wants him to love her for the rest of hers. Ig wakes up lying on the floor clutching a bottle of vodka. He groggily goes into the living room and puts on a David Bowie record to play "Heroes". He sees Merrin dancing for him. Outside his window is a news van and many angry protesters, holding signs that condemn Ig to hell. Merrin has been murdered, and everyone thinks he did it.

Ig calls his lawyer friend Lee Torneau (Max Minghella) for help. He then goes to his family's home for sanctuary from the press. Ig's brother Terry (Joe Anderson) wants to help Ig clear his name. Their father Derrick (James Remar) has sought a lawyer for Ig, but all the other lawyers want Ig to take a plea, while Lee knows he is innocent. Lee later comes over to join his friends. He tells Ig that any evidence found on Merrin's remains were burned in a forensics lab, thereby leaving Ig with nothing to prove his innocence. Ig vows to find the real killer and finish him off. Ig goes to a bar where the bartender refuses to serve him because the other patrons are afraid of him. Glenna (Kelli Garner), an old friend of Ig's, takes pity on him and pours him a drink. She offers to go have a drink with him, but he wants to be alone. A large gathering of townspeople come together for a vigil around the tree where Merrin's body was found. Her father Dale (David Morse) tearfully talks about his daughter and also accuses Ig of killing her. Ig watches from a treehouse above them. After everybody leaves, Ig stomps on a statue of the Virgin Mary and then pees all over the candles. Glenna catches him and tells him to calm down. Ig blames God for not caring about Merrin when she needed help. The next morning, Ig awakens after sleeping with Glenna to two horns protruding from his head ...

He gets dressed and asks Glenna if she notices the horns. She does, but doesn't react beyond a laugh. She sees a box of doughnuts on the coffee table and asks Ig if she can eat all of them. He says yes, and she stuffs one in her mouth. It makes her stomach feel bad, and she washes it down with Diet Coke. Yet she still wants to eat the whole box because, as she casually tells Ig, she wants to get fat because everybody thinks she is trash and that nobody would sleep with her unless they were drunk like Ig was. Ig goes to the doctor to get the horns checked out. A little girl is screaming in the waiting room while her mother sits and does nothing. The mother tells Ig that she wants to kick her daughter's ass, divorce her husband, and go have sex with her black golf instructor because she prefers "black cock". A disturbed Ig goes to the receptionist and gives back the form he had to fill out. The receptionist tells Ig that she just wants to tell the mother to shut her kid up. She asks Ig if he thinks it's okay and he says yes. The receptionist gets up and yells at the mother to take her "screeching pig" out. The mother angrily yells at the receptionist and goes up to her. Ig grabs her arm and gets a peek inside her mind. He sees the woman having sex with her golf instructor and dealing with the screaming daughter at home. The little girl also tells Ig that she hates her mother and wants to burn her in her bed with matches. Ig sees the nurse. She is checking his blood pressure but is fixated on his horns. She tells him that she knows her boyfriend is seeing another girl. The doctor comes in and sees the horns but doesn't bother dealing with them and instead tells Ig that he wants to have sex with his daughter's friend, and then offers to snort oxycontin with Ig. Ig just tells him to saw the horns off. The doctor puts Ig under anesthesia and he passes out. We see a flashback to when Ig was a child and he first saw Merrin in church. She shined the light reflecting off her cross necklace in Ig's direction. Derrick tells him it's morse code. After the service, he finds Merrin's necklace, broken. Later on, Ig would hang out with Terry, Lee, Glenna, and another kid named Eric by the docks. They lit off cherry bombs and talked about Merrin, to whom Ig is attracted, which upset Glenna because none of the other boys seemed to really notice her. After lighting off a number of cherry bombs, Eric tells Ig he'll give him his last one if he rides down a log rail in a cart naked. Ig takes the challenge and rides off into the lake, hitting his head on a log. The logs come together, trapping him underneath. Lee jumps in and rescues Ig. Eric is forced to hand Ig the cherry bomb. Lee fixes the cross necklace and gives it to Ig in exchange for the cherry bomb. Ig gives it back to Merrin and starts hanging out with her. Ig learns that Merrin's mother passed away from cancer. They go back to his house and listen to David Bowie. Terry runs in and tells Ig that the cherry bomb blew up in Lee's hand. They run to the hospital where the boy has lost two fingers. He does feel happy seeing Ig and Merrin together. Ig later confesses to Merrin that it was Lee who fixed the necklace, and he blames himself for what happened to him. Merrin assures him that she left the necklace for Ig to find. They have their first kiss. Ig wakes up to see that the doctor left the saw in the horn to have sex with the nurse right next to him. Disgusted, Ig leaves, only to see in the mirror that the horns have grown. Ig finds a priest and asks for his help. The priest coldly suggests that he can get a rope and hang Ig, or Ig can do the deed himself. The only person that doesn't notice the horns is Lee. This makes Ig think the horns don't work on good people. Ig goes to his parents' home and hears the truth from both of them - his mother thinks she would be happier if he wasn't her son, and Derrick always thought Ig was a difficult child, and that he hates Ig for supposedly killing Merrin, because she was the only thing that he loved about Ig. He also reveals that he had someone burn the evidence in the forensics lab. Ig calls Lee about this, who says it's probably a blessing in disguise. Ig goes to the bar but is harassed by a gaggle of reporters trying to get a hot scoop from him. Ig tells them to fight each other, and whoever wins gets to interview him. The reporters then get into an intense brawl while Ig walks into the bar. The bartender threatens to hit Ig, but Ig tells him he doesn't want to do that. The bartender admits he wants to burn the bar down and collect the insurance money. Ig demands anybody in the bar to tell him if they know anything about Merrin's murder. The other patrons just admit more sinful things, and one man takes his pants off and whips his penis out. Ig leaves as the bartender lights the place up, and he walks past the reporters, still fighting. As Ig sits in his car to have a smoke, he notices a small box in the glove compartment. In another flashback, we see that Ig was telling Lee and Terry that he was planning to propose to Merrin that night at the diner, and that the guys would join them to celebrate. Ig later goes to the diner to meet with Merrin, who looks melancholic. She tells Ig that she is moving to Los Angeles, which he thinks is a good chance for a fresh start. However, Merrin says they should break up and see other people to know if he really wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He thinks she is already seeing someone else. She starts to leave, and Ig gets up and loudly argues with her until the manager tells him to leave. Ig leaves without a fight, just as Terry starts to come in. The next morning, Eric (Michael Adamthwaite), now a cop, finds Ig sleeping in his car and asks him when he last saw Merrin. The fact that Ig asked if something happened to her only fuels Eric's suspicions. Ig returns to the diner to talk to the waitress, Veronica (Heather Graham), who has been feeding the police false information about Ig on the night Merrin was killed. Veronica told the cops that Ig dragged Merrin into his car and took her into the woods to kill her before having anal sex with her. All of this so that Veronica can be featured on the news as a key witness. Ig goes to the jazz club where Terry plays with his band. Glenna approaches him and admits that she was always in love with Ig, which he did already know. After the performance, Terry meets Ig outside and admits that he was with Merrin after Ig left the diner. Ig attacks his brother and, as he touches him, sees into Terry's mind to that night. Terry drove Merrin away from the diner, but she ran away into the woods in the pouring rain. The next morning, Terry woke up in his car with a bloody rock in his hand. He ran into the woods to find Merrin dead. He wrapped the rock in his shirt and threw it in the lake to avoid being implicated. After this, Eric and his partner come in and cuff Ig. The two cops then make crude jokes about beating Ig while they jerk off. The next day, Ig finds Lee in town wearing Merrin's cross necklace. Lee denies it at first but then says she gave it to him. Ig breaks down, thinking Lee was the one that Merrin was leaving him for. Ig then goes to Dale's home to try and see if he knew if Merrin was seeing anybody or mentioned leaving him, only to have Dale point a shotgun at him, ordering him to get off his property. Ig goes down an alley to forcibly remove the horns, to no avail. A group of snakes slither on over to him, but they do not harm him. They slither onto him, and he is okay with it. Ig walks past Eric and his partner in their car. They threaten to arrest him, but Ig says they would be happier sucking each other off. The two admit they're gay and that they love each other, and they proceed to make out and have sex. Ig then gathers the snakes and finds Veronica in her car. The snakes make their way into the car and bite Veronica all over her face and body, scarring her and ensuring that she can't enjoy a life of fame. Ig, wearing the snake around his neck, goes to find Terry doing a lot of drugs. Ig forces Terry to do an enormous amount to trip out and eventually torture him with the same feelings that Merrin felt the night she died. Terry experiences a horrible trip and collapses. Down by the docks the next day, Ig meets up with Lee. Ig removes the cross necklace from him, and Lee can finally see Ig's horns. And then he admits that it was HE who really killed Merrin. Ig chokes Lee and sees his memories. Previously, Merrin suspected that Ig was going to propose, and she asked Lee if it's true. He said maybe. Merrin recently learned some things about herself and didn't want Ig to be involved with it, so she confided this to Lee. On the night that Ig left the diner, Lee followed Terry and Merrin until they stopped by the woods. Lee found Merrin in there and tried to kiss her, but she pulled back. He thought she left Ig for him, but Merrin says she loves Ig more than anything in the world. Angry, Lee struck Merrin and raped her before cracking her head with a rock. He then planted the bloody rock in Terry's hand and fled the scene. Ig grabs a pitchfork and tells Lee to go turn himself in, but Lee grabs a chain and whips Ig in the back repeatedly. He pushes him in his car and douses it with kerosene, then sets it on fire. Unable to get out, Ig drives the car into the lake. Lee later tells the police that Ig confessed to killing Merrin before killing himself. Ig emerges from the lake, terribly burnt but alive. He returns to Dale's home. Dale now realizes that Ig really didn't kill Merrin. He invites Ig inside and gives him a key that Merrin wanted him to have. Ig hands Dale her necklace, but Dale lets him keep it. Ig puts it around his neck, and then his burns heal and the horns go away. Ig brings the key to the treehouse and opens a box with a note inside from Merrin. It's written in morse code, and it says that Merrin knew she was dying of cancer like her mother, and after seeing how it affected her father, she didn't want Ig to know about it since he would have only wanted to marry her more, and she didn't want him to live with her suffering. She does vow to find him again someday in the same treehouse. Ig cries. Ig visits Terry in the hospital, recovering from his drug episode. Ig is sorry for what he did, and he tells Terry that Lee is the real killer and that he's going after him. Ig goes to Lee's house and asks him to join him for a walk. They go into the woods to the spot where Lee killed Merrin. Eric appears with a shotgun aimed at Lee, followed closely by Terry, who told Eric about Lee. Lee appears to go quietly, but he trips Eric and grabs the shotgun and shoots Terry in the leg. Ig grabs the pitchfork and tries to pull the shotgun out of Lee's hand, only to aim it directly in Eric's face and blow his head off. Ig and Lee struggle, when Ig then takes off the cross necklace. He suddenly grows wings that lift him in the air, and then they catch fire. His whole body is consumed by fire until he morphs into a demonic creature with bigger horns. Lee shoots at Ig, who bleeds lava, but he charges at Lee and impales him with his horn and throws him against a tree. The snakes then come by and wrap themselves around Lee, and one snake slithers through the impalement wound and into Lee's mouth, gagging him to death. Ig, now having avenged Merrin, falls and begins turning to stone. Terry rushes to his brother's side. The film ends with the opening scene of Ig and Merrin under the tree, suggesting they have reunited in death.

| Source: imdb.com/title/tt1528071/plotsummary

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrowxtogether #soobin #beomgyu #hueningkai #yeonjun #taehyun #bighit #kpop #story #txt theory #txt theories #horns

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mamashitty · 5 years

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Samwell Elementary Chapter 7

a new pov this time around. y’all can read the story here on my tumblr or on my ao3.

Shitty is seated cross-legged on the floor in Maisie’s room. She is in the process of figuring out how to braid his epic flow. She pulls his hair a lot less than Jack does, Shitty notices and files that information away for later. It is always good to stock up on chirping material for the future. Except, just as Shitty is musing over that, Maisie tugs his hair back rather painfully, and Shitty bites back a wince that his badass hockey niece does not even notice.

“Uncle Crappy?” Maisie asks.

“What is it, Corndog?”

“Do you think Mom is going to love me less after the baby is born?” It is not very often that Shitty hears the fear in Maisie’s voice. Her whole life she seems to face any situation head-on. She is always grabbing life by the horns. He finds himself frowning, not liking the question, and not liking that this is a worry that Maisie has floating around in her adorable little head. He tilts his head back so that he can look at her. He wonders if she has asked Jack or Camilla this question yet, or if he is the first one. He forces himself to flash her a smile and then he is sticking his tongue out her. Maisie lets out a giggle, though it sounds forced to his ears.

“Maisie, your Mom is going to love you the same as she does now, brah.” He says, putting as much conviction into his voice as possible, and hoping that Maisie hears it and understands it. Maisie is the first kid that he has spent any real amount of time with, she’s the first one he proudly calls a niece. The first one he gets to be some form of Uncle to. This feels a bit like a test to him, a test he is really just putting on his own shoulders. He does not want to fuck this up. He wants and needs Maisie to know that she can always come to him, no matter what the problem or concern is. He loves this little girl. She is a perfect mix of Jack and Camilla. And completely her own person too. Shitty remembers clearly her as a baby, and the first time he babysat her, and how she got mad. She was somewhere between six and nine months, no longer that scary kind of blob that newborns are, something a bit more sturdy and something that could move. He remembers she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and nothing he did could cheer her up. He was on the verge of panic calling Jack and Camilla when she reached up to grab his sunglasses and chew on them. She began to laugh. And Shitty, his heart still racing, had started to laugh too. Jack and Camilla had come home to Shitty and Maisie just shouting and laughing at each other. They had really connected after that, even though Shitty had been smitten with her the first time he saw her.

“Are you sure?” Maisie asks, her voice quiet. Shitty reaches behind him, tugging Maisie onto his lap and giving her a tight hug. She melts into it and her arms wrap around his neck.

“I am positive, Maisie-Daze,” Shitty says, before adding. “Every time I meet a new friend, I don’t love my other friends any less. Love has a way of growing, brah. Your Mom and Steve will love you and your brother or sister. And you are going to love them too, and be the best big sister in the fucking universe,” Shitty knows better than to swear in front of Maisie like that. He has had practice with it, after all. But he does it on purpose because something tells him, Maisie will like it.

And she does, she lets out a giggle as soon as he lets the f-bomb drop. “Uncle Crappy!” She admonishes him through giggles. When they subside, she pulls her head back to look at him. “But are you sure?” She asks, and he hears a hint of a quiver in her voice.

“I am abso-fucking-lutely certain, Corndog. Neither one of your parents will ever love you any less than they love you now. And if you don’t believe your Uncle Crappy, you should ask your Mom.” Shitty finishes, vaguely wondering if he said the correct things or not. Hoping that he did. He watches Maisie and she looks like she is really mulling over what he said. He watches her nod her head.

“Okay, Uncle Crappy. You swore again!” She adds, laughing.

“Please don’t tell your Papa,” Shitty jokes, before adding. “And, remember, you can always come talk to me if you need to, Corndog. Thank you for talking to me about this,” he finishes. He has always spoken to Maisie like she was a little adult. Not so much in the content of his words, that he usually keeps as kid-friendly as possible, but just in the way he talks to her. Shitty isn’t one for higher-pitched voices and dumbing down his speech for kids. He thinks Maisie appreciates it.

“Okay,” Maisie says, and he feels like he is losing her a bit now, that she is shifting from serious mode and wanting to get back into fun mode. She hops off of his lap. “Wanna play hide and seek?” She asks, and Shitty grins.

“Heck yes, I do!”

It is a few hours later. and Jack is finally home. Maisie is sleeping, Shitty had had to do bedtime. He had fun with it though, he read her three books for bedtime even though her parents usually just read one. He and Jack are seated on the couch in the living room. Shitty had already filled Jack in about Maisie’s frankly heartbreaking question. They had talked about it some and he knows Jack will talk to her about it tomorrow. He had sent Camilla a text message too about it. He feels like that was the right course of action. Silence has fallen between the two friends. Shitty is only half paying attention to the documentary that Jack put on. He’s nursing a beer, knowing that it is getting that time when he should leave. Jack’s bedtime is quickly approaching, after all.

“So, you coming to the Halloween party this year?” Shitty broaches, affecting as much nonchalance as he can. Shitty knows Jack does not have a game that night. He also knows that Maisie will be staying the night over at Camilla’s.

“I don’t know, Shits,” Jack says after a beat and Shitty wonders if Jack’s mind had immediately gone to Bitty or not. He decides it is time to go for broke.

“You’ll miss the costume that Bitty is wearing. It is going to be a beaut,” Out of the corner of his eye, because Shitty can be smooth and not outright stare at his best friend, he sees Jack tense for a moment and then relax.

“Really? Eh, that is nice.” Shitty notes that Jack’s attempt at nonchalance pales compared to his. Shitty shifts his position on the couch so that he can stare his friend down.

“Jackie-Jack,” Shitty says, adopting as firm a voice as he can. “You like him. You should come and hang out with him outside of school and outside of those five-minute chats you bros have before you and I go jogging.” He sees Jack opening his mouth, likely to denydenydeny. Shitty interrupts. “Brah, I have seen how you look at him and those coffees you bring him?” Shitty decides not to mention the looks he has seen Jack give Bitty when Bitty is wearing that Falconer's shirt. Jack is not subtle. Jack is also frowning now and Shitty only feels a teeny bit guilty about that.

“Shitty, even if I do find him attractive and even if I do enjoy talking with him… he’s Maisie’s teacher. That seems inappropriate, plus he just got out of a relationship with someone,” Jack is hedging. Shitty supposes his concerns are somewhat valid but they get in the way of Shitty’s dream. The dream that two of his best bros might actually be able to find happiness together. Jack is not subtle in his looks and neither is Bitty. Shitty can fucking taste the pine between the two of them.

“Jack, Trevor was a fucking douche,” Shitty starts with because that is easy. “Their relationship… it was not… well, it was not awful but also not the best. And Bitty is the one who gets to judge whether or not it is too soon, but you gotta’ give him a chance to do that. The teacher thing… maybe it is a little inappropriate. But, brah, you like him. I haven’t seen you like this with anyone in a long time. You deserve to be happy. And, also, it is just a party.” Shitty finishes.

Jack stays quiet for a while, likely mulling it all over. “I will think about it, Shits.”

“Sweet!” Shitty exclaims and he clumsily closes the gap between the two of them on the couch and smacks a wet kiss on Jack’s cheek.

Shitty and Bitty are seated at the kitchen island. Shitty has bravely volunteered as taste-tester. Bittle wants all the treats he is making for the Halloween party to be perfect. He claims half of what Shitty has eaten today is just not good enough, but Shitty, oh Shitty he begs to differ. And has countless times but Bitty just lets out a huff and reworks the recipes. Shitty is certain he will gain fifty pounds tonight alone, and he does not mind one iota.

“I invited Jack to the Halloween party. Brah, I invite him every year but I think this year he might actually come,” Shitty says, hopefully as smoothly as he wants it to be. He might be just a little high but nothing that he can’t function with. Nothing that impairs his taste buds any, a point he has argued over and over with Bitty over the course of the night.

“Jack? He won’t be busy with Maisie and Camilla?” Bitty asks, and there seems to be a strange tone to Eric’s voice and fuck maybe Shitty is higher than he realized because he is having a difficult time deciphering what that tone means.

“He has plans to go with them for trick or treating and then no plans. No game or anything,” Shitty explains and he notices the way Bitty tenses up, pausing in whatever it is he is doing to the baked goods. Probably something to make them epically delicious. Shitty can feel his mouth start to salivate at the thought of what those baked goods will taste like. He wants them in his mouth and down his belly stat! Wait, he is supposed to be focusing on Bitty and Jack and trying to encourage one of them to make maybe think about making the move on the other. In their own time, of course, but hopefully, that own time will be sooner rather than later.

“Seems kind of strange that he won’t be spending the night with them, doesn’t it?” Bitty asks and there is that tone again. Annoyance? Maybe even anger. Bitty’s Georgian twang has gotten thicker. Shitty frowns.

“Not really? I mean Maisie has a bedtime and they might let her stay up a little later because it is Halloween but, she’ll go to bed with plenty of time for Jack to come out and play. And Camilla is probably going to want to spend the evening with Steve, brah.” Shitty explains, hoping that settles whatever concern is in Bitty’s mind. He wonders if Bitty has the same concerns as Jack, the whole appropriateness thing with being Maisie’s teacher. This whole plan of his, half-baked though it is, suddenly seems more complicated if that is the case.

“Shitty. If Jack decides to come to a party and not spend his free evening with his pregnant wife then he is not the sweet man he acts like,” and Shitty wonders if the weed he smoked broke his brain some.

“Pregnant wife? Bro, no. Camilla and Jack are divorced. She’s with Steve and the kid is Steve’s, not Jack’s and…” and suddenly Shitty is laughing, harder than is probably warranted given the situation. Bitty spins on his heels to stare at him and Shitty notices how red his face is. He feels guilty about laughing and tries to stop. He manages to finally stop the laughter and sort of curses the weed gods for making him so giggly. It isn’t right laughing at Bitty right now even if it is kind of funny. Suddenly, the vague comments he has made in the past two months are starting to add up in Shitty’s head.

“Brah, did you think Jack was some kind of like… nice asshole? He’s single as fuck,” and Bitty is definitely Jack’s type but Shitty stops himself from saying that. Bitty is worrying his lower lip something fierce. He looks on the verge of saying something when the timer on the oven dings. He busies himself with getting the baked goods out of it and Shitty watches him, only pausing in his watching, to spin on the barstool for a moment, before he returns to just staring at his friend. Probably creeper level of staring.

“I was a little confused. Lord, Shitty. The man keeps bringing me coffees whenever he drops Maisie off. He always seems so interested in what I have to say, and I could not tell at first if he was just being polite or if it was something more. And then if it was something more that was just wrong because I thought he was with Camilla,” and Bitty lets out a groan. “I probably embarrassed myself around him so many times.” He watches as Bitty hides his face in his hands.

“Bitty, Bits… don’t worry. Jack probably never noticed you saying or doing anything embarrassing,” and if he did, Shitty thinks silently, he probably did not mind. Bitty is silent for a few minutes.

“I hope he comes,” he says, quietly and Shitty breaks out into a grin.

#omgcp #zimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #shitty knight #omgcp fic #a.shitty writes #a.shitty fics #samwell elementary au

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theliberaltony · 6 years

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

micah (Micah Cohen, politics editor): Greetings, friends and colleagues, and thank you for joining this later-in-the-week-than-usual politics chat! We’re doing it a bit late because we wanted to see how the Super Tuesday of the 2018 primary season played out. And so the question we’re interrogating today is:

What have we learned about how the 2020 Democratic presidential primary might play out based on the 2018 primaries?

Sound good?

julia_azari (Julia Azari, political science professor at Marquette University and FiveThirtyEight contributor):

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): Great.

micah: OK, so let’s break this up into two parts …

First up: candidates.

What have we learned about the type of candidate Democrats want?

(Also, something to weigh during this whole chat: How sound is this entire exercise of looking at 2018 congressional primaries for clues about the 2020 presidential primary?)

perry: To start broadly, what I took from Tuesday (and the primaries more generally this year) is that Democrats are anti-President Trump but not behaving in the anti-party establishment way that the GOP did in 2010, 2014 and 2016. The party establishment candidates (for example, Dianne Feinstein, Robert Menendez, Gavin Newsom) won. Left-leaning voters in California managed to coalesce around Democratic candidates enough to get at least one into the general election in the House districts that Democrats think they can flip (that’s how it looks now, in any case).

In short, Democratic voters are open to party-backed candidates.

julia_azari: Perry is right, though I would also note the many anti-Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee stories that came out of California and other places.

It’s less obvious to me that a plurality, much less a majority of Democratic voters, are swayed by their suspicion of the party. But these things can burn slowly. And a vocal minority can really gunk things up for a party, especially if the more establishment parts fail to coordinate. Which is what happened for Republicans in 2016.

perry: Right. Some Democratic activists kind of hate the party. But they still listen to the party.

micah: Wait, isn’t that a little strong?

perry: Which part do you think is wrong, Micah?

micah: Not wrong, but I guess I’m trying to get a sense of degrees.

Clearly, there are anti-establishment forces in the Democratic Party.

But they’re 40 percent weaker than in the GOP?

10 percent weaker?

You know what I mean?

julia_azari: I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

I would argue that in the Democratic Party, those anti-establishment forces are more challenging to combine with a compelling policy/ideological/team-based message than in the GOP.

So, anti-establishment sentiment in the Republican Party was easily paired up with anti-Obama feelings (tea party) and anti-immigration feelings (Trump)?

What’s the comparison for anti-establishment Dems? Single-payer? Campaign finance reform?

micah: Ah, I see. That makes sense. But aren’t they still weaker than in the GOP?

perry: I would say closer to 40 percent weaker. Kevin de León is a pretty good candidate. He is very qualified. And yet Feinstein came in 30 percentage points ahead of him in Tuesday’s primary despite not being a particularly good fit for California, which casts itself as the “state of resistance.”

The big difference is that de León does not have a Fox News/Breitbart apparatus attacking Feinstein like a Republican would have.

julia_azari: Perry, it seems like we somewhat disagree on the big picture of how strong these forces are in the Democratic Party, but the media point is a really critical one.

micah: The closest a tea-party-like Democratic challenge has come (and please spare me the emails about how the tea party analogy doesn’t work — I know it’s imperfect) was in Illinois’s 3rd District maybe?

perry: Right. And the incumbent in that race was fairly to the right of the Democratic Party.

Tuesday’s results are bad for people like Howard Schultz, if the outgoing Starbucks chairman decides that he wants to try to run a campaign to take over the Democratic Party the way Trump did the Republican Party.

micah: Yeah.

But, Julia, you think those anti-establishment forces are even weaker than Perry does?

perry: I feel like I’m saying they are pretty weak in the first place.

micah: Yeah, that’s why I’m confused.

Julia thinks they’re stronger maybe?

julia_azari: No, I’m saying I think we are in danger of underestimating them based on what’s still a pretty small number of observations.

micah: That’s fair.

julia_azari: Trump didn’t happen overnight. Not to toot my own horn, but my piece on Trump and Paul Ryan illustrates how these kinds of forces built up over decades in the Republican Party.

micah:

perry: I think that’s right. I might consider, say, Bernie Sanders, more part of the Democratic Party at this point, in that he does lots of party stuff and the party kind of accepts him. Sanders, even though he is technically an independent, has moved toward the party, and the party has moved toward him.

julia_azari: The fact that the DCCC — rather than ideology or policy — has become a point of argument in Democratic circles and in stories about the primaries illustrates the legitimacy problems that parties now face. Who the f even knew what the DCCC was in 2006?

(Full disclosure/self-promotion: I am writing a book about party weakness right now, which emphasizes very long-term and slow-moving processes, including the erosion of party legitimacy.)

perry: So I think Julia and I disagree. It’s a very small sample size. But if I were Joe Biden, I would be happy with how well Feinstein did. And that the party elders did get their candidates in some of these House races.

julia_azari: If I were Joe Biden, I would be focused on the credibility of Feinstein’s challenger, so, yeah, we disagree — though I also admit that we’re extrapolating from not much data.

perry: Feinstein has moved to the left. She was famously for the death penalty but now is not, for example. But figures in the party, like Obama, were willing to embrace Feinstein even if she is to the right of where the energy of the party is right now.

She could have been treated like Bob Bennett or Richard Lugar but was not.

julia_azari: Those are good comparisons too. I certainly don’t want to suggest that the situations are identical. But to resonate, anti-establishment Dems need a message that is also about policy and ideas, not just being pissed at the DCCC and the Democratic National Committee. But at the same time, frustration with those institutions is a real phenomenon.

micah: OK, so we disagree a little about how establishmenty/anti-establishmenty a candidate Democrats might want in 2020.

Let’s talk other candidate characteristics.

There’s been a ton of talk about women doing really well.

From ex-FiveThirtyEighter Allison McCann (though, really, once a FiveThirtyEighter, always a FiveThirtyEighter — whether you like it or not):

perry: It’s totally different to nominate a female candidate for a House race than to nominate a woman to run for president after Hillary Clinton just lost.

micah: Case in point:

micah: Isn’t there research showing that voters are more likely to vote for women for legislative offices than for executive offices?

julia_azari: Here is a study that finds that media coverage is more gendered for those offices.

perry: 2018 is shaping up as the year of female Democratic candidates. But 2020 is about picking one person. And I wonder if Democrats start looking strategically in a way that likely discriminates against female and non-white candidates. I.e., Democrats will be asking, “Who can win Obama-Trump white voters in Wisconsin?” That’s why The New York Times is writing about the mayor of South Bend maybe running for president. (What I’m saying is that I doubt The Times would write a story about a black mayor of a smallish city considering a presidential run, since Cory Booker, Kamala Harris, Eric Holder and Deval Patrick are rumored candidates. There is a bit of a media search going on for a white male candidate who is not from the coasts.)

julia_azari: People LOVE Pete Buttigieg.

perry: In other words, there will be lots more Democratic women running for president in 2020 than in 2016, just because there is no Clinton this time. She screened out lots of male and female candidates. But I’m not sure I take from 2018 that the Democrats are more likely to nominate a woman.

julia_azari: It depends somewhat on the way people interpret the 2016 loss.

Democrats could read that loss as, “People aren’t ready to vote for a woman, and we need to be ‘safe.'” (My rant about using the word “safe” that way is redacted for now.)

Or you could interpret the dynamics as fundamentally about status quo or not — and see Clinton for the unique figure she is, one who has been in the public eye for decades.

perry: But not really the way people interpret the 2016 loss, right? The consultants/donors, etc., have a big influence on who gets to the front of the line in the nomination process, and we know they are more male and white than the party overall. Some of them have concluded that it is about winning Obama-Trump voters.

micah: I guess that’s likely right, but won’t there be a hunger for a woman nominee among Democratic primary voters? Isn’t that what we’re seeing in these primaries?

perry: We could debate this for a while, but I think Conor Lamb is viewed more as a model for 2020 than Stacey Abrams among the people who matter in the Democratic Party.

julia_azari: I mean, not to be blunt, but that’s what we see in society.

micah: According to our count, woman have won ~70 percent of Democratic primaries against at least one man with no incumbent on the ballot.

julia_azari: There’s a real fever among left-leaning writers, etc., to recommend moving away from identity politics post-2016. I worry that the effect is to put white voters back at the center and neglect groups that have historically, well, been neglected.

Still, I think that there will be demand for a woman to run against Trump within the Democratic Party. Let me try to get my thoughts together about women on presidential tickets.

It is a short story of non-success. But women have been brought onto tickets at times of electoral distress. (Remember the brief Ted Cruz-Carly Fiorina ticket from 2016?)

micah: Oh what a moment that was.

julia_azari: In 1984, Democrats were facing a popular incumbent in Ronald Reagan. And they picked Geraldine Ferraro as the vice-presidential nominee to shake things up and draw attention — which she did.

In 2008, Sarah Palin was supposed to, I guess, create conservative excitement for the McCain ticket in a year when Republicans were very likely to do badly.

Hillary Clinton inevitability as president was a late-breaking narrative; otherwise, savvy observers had to know that after two terms of a Democratic president and a tepid economy, 2016 was an uphill battle for Democrats.

micah: But will 2020 be considered a time of “electoral distress” for Democrats? Won’t it be the opposite?

julia_azari: I am getting there, Micah.

micah: Sorry

julia_azari: It’s OK. I meant to warn everyone about the Hamlet-style soliloquy.

micah: lol

julia_azari: So 2020. There will be a surface narrative that what’s needed is a woman to take down Trump. But a very cynical reading of this evidence suggests that the most likely scenario for nominating a woman is a sacrificial lamb scenario, in which the party seeks these optics but is really pessimistic about its chances. Trump is an unpopular president, but incumbency is powerful.

I hope I’m wrong about this deeply cynical take.

micah: Cynicism has a good batting average in U.S. politics.

perry: I think the women winning this year are also fairly liberal, so that’s more what I take from these primaries: The party is open to liberal candidates. Abrams in Georgia, for example.

In other words, I do not expect a Democratic Leadership Council-style attempt to recenter the party during the 2020 primary.

julia_azari: Yeah, that’s a good takeaway.

perry: So I imagine it will be hard for the Steve Bullocks of the world (Bullock is the Democratic governor of Montana) — the kind of people who I expect will argue that Democrats are too left.

micah: Totally agree. You can imagine a scenario in which the party, as you both said, “moderates” (heavy scare quotes) on identity — white male — but not at all on ideology.

julia_azari: Yeah. As I pointed out on Tuesday in the live blog, support for LGBT rights doesn’t make one a radical among Democrats anymore, and the party is fairly uniformly pro-choice, though it means different things to different people. Left of the Affordable Care Act is probably the only way to run on health care. Younger voters are concerned about student debt.

micah: Any other candidate traits you’ve noticed before we move to issues/platforms?

perry: I haven’t studied this and don’t have data to back it up, but I feel like there is a generational thing going on. It seems like, Feinstein aside, the crop of Democrats winning this year is fairly young. That might be a bad sign for Biden/Sanders — the party is nominating lots of women/minorities and looking for fresher faces. (Biden is 75; Sanders is 76.)

julia_azari: Yeah. There were signs of that back in the fall — some party-building.

perry: I’m having a hard time, based on what I’m seeing now, seeing Democrats uniting around a person who is almost 80 years old.

Like, the ideal candidate might be someone who is anti-establishment and left like Sanders but not Sanders — someone who really speaks about #MeToo and Black Lives Matter and Dreamers in an articulate way. Lamb and Abrams are both strong speakers, fairly young, dynamic people.

julia_azari: My only other demographic observation is that the party seems poised to really highlight LGBT candidates. We’ll likely look back on this as a period when that really shifted in terms of representation. (Danica Roem’s national profile is an example of this.)

micah: OK, policy time!

Any thoughts about the platform that the 2020 Democratic primary will be fought over? We’ve gotten into it a little already.

perry: I don’t think the Democrats have a big divide on economic issues. The whole party is moving left, and the fight will be over, say, single-payer versus a huge expansion of Medicaid and Medicare.

And voters won’t know the difference.

julia_azari: Yeah, there’s likely to be some tortured language in the platform about single-payer.

perry: Most of these primaries have shown little in the way of policy differences.

julia_azari: I expect lots of symbolic agreement on diversity and immigration and upward mobility. The differences to be worked out in governing won’t be easy, but uniting under an electoral banner probably will be pretty straightforward.

perry: I do think there is a divide not on positions but on emphasis around, say, gun control, policing, abortion, immigration. Some of the Democratic candidates in these primaries have not been as loud and proudly liberal on these issues. I don’t think, say, Biden will say he is pro-life, but will he defend and back Planned Parenthood as strongly as Kirsten Gillibrand might?

I doubt it.

There is a core tension among Democrats over identity policy (how liberal to be on these issues) and identity in terms of the electoral coalition (is the goal to win more women, minorities, people who stayed home in 2016 or to win more Obama-Trump voters, who are mostly white).

That is a tension they are desperate to smooth over. And can’t.

micah: Do you all this Medicare-for-all will be a rallying cry or a litmus test?

perry : Medicare-for-all will be a litmus test for the most left candidates (so, say, Elizabeth Warren, Harris, Sanders), but I think Biden can avoid that and be fine.

micah: Like, to your point, Perry, I wonder if Democrats will focus on health care over, say, immigration because it plays across those divides (women/non-white voters vs. Obama-Trump voters).

perry: In the primary, they will all have the same position on health care, so I suspect there will be some incentive to be left on immigration or some other issue as a way to differentiate yourself.

Remember that Clinton sharply attacked Sanders in 2016 from the left over gun policy.

julia_azari: I’m honestly not sure how these things will play out.

The Democrats tend to have a bunch of issues that are broadly popular but have very concentrated opposition — gay rights, gun control. If the “win back Trump voters” sentiment is strong, who knows what priorities will be emphasized?

perry: This Seth Masket piece is good at capturing the Democratic divides. Like, abolishing ICE (the federal government’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency) is a live issue now. I don’t know how that would work, but which Democratic 2020 candidate is going to be like, “Hey, actually, we need ICE.”

julia_azari: I can’t see too many Democratic candidates saying, “Hey, we need ICE.” But I can see people suggesting that this is a “distraction” from “jobs.”

perry: And I can see that answer not lasting for 24 months (the 2020 campaign cycle).

micah: That piece from Masket (friend of the site) is interesting: “The language may be buried within discussions about interest groups, but deciding which groups to prioritize is a strongly ideological one.”

julia_azari: I wrote a response, but it’s a little academic.

One question I posed in that piece is how the fights between the parties will affect the fights within them. Historically, they’ve mirrored very closely. But now that the parties are pretty uniform in their basic ideologies, I think that might change.

micah: OK, final thoughts …

julia_azari: I think the Democratic Party is in the fairly early stages of a pretty big transition — from a patchwork group-based party to a more clearly ideological one.

This means there are a lot of directions it could go in 2020, and it’s not clear to me how the power dynamics will work in determining who gets to shape that direction.

perry: It’s easy for a party to unite in a midterm against the other party’s incumbent president. The trouble is figuring out the rest: 2018 is just so different from 2020.

I left 2014 having watched the Republicans finally figure out how to control their nomination processes and avoid having too many people who couldn’t win the general on their tickets. Then, they nominated Trump.

Democrats have figured out a populist message that works for a more diverse slate of candidates. But I don’t know if that will survive 20 candidates in 2019 and 2020 presidential debates — with the press and Trump trying to hype up their fissures.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

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khunsetare · 7 years

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ODIUM

Had some writing buzz, and finished up a chapter late last night. I normally work end of the week, and weekends so it’s harder for me to upload. BUT, I figure why not leave things on a interesting note!

WARNINGS: Lil bit of smut, DRUGS/ALCOHOL (using, and mentioning).

Thanks for reading (:

TAGS : If you want to be tagged/ kept updates you can turn on my notifications or ask to be tagged in future uploads ! I have an ongoing list.

@kenzieam , @jaihardy , @pathybo , @elaacreditava , @tigpooh67 , @beltz2016 , @lostinthebeans

Chapter 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Chapter 6

As I hurriedly put on my pants for the war games, I grab my badge, and phone before rushing out. I zip and button as I step out, and begin to follow initiates towards the doors outside. I feel a grip on my bicep, and I’m pulled back into a hard chest. I look up and it’s Eric, and I wonder what he wants now.

“War games don’t begin till another 30 mins, you don’t need to rush,” He speaks to me sweetly. I squint at him, as I feel like he’s lying to me on purpose. “Max needs to see you in his office. I suggest you hurry,” He smiles at me, and I roll my eyes rushing up towards the nearest flight of stairs. I jog up quickly until I’m by his office, and I wiggle the door but it’s locked. I groan out loudly to myself.

I turn back around and into the hallway looking for anyone that might know if he’s in there still or roaming around. I hurriedly walk around until I spot Max at the end of the corridor. I run over to him, and he stops noticing my presence.

“You wanted me?” I ask, and he shoots me a confused look.

“No? Is everything alright?” He asks, furrowing his brows as he stares at me up and down. I replay the moment with Eric again, and curse to myself. I hear the train’s loud horn, and I groan in frustration.

“I’m going to fucking kill Eric. I’m sorry, I need to get to the train before I miss the war games,” Max laughs as he sees me take off back down the stairs.

I glide down one rail, and pace myself making sure I don’t fly face first into a flight of stairs. As I reach ground floor I push it open, but it doesn’t budge. I push again, and peek through the window to see there’s a small wooden plank wedged in between the handles. I scream out in frustration, and kick the door repeatedly till I hear cracks. I kick it one last time, and the wood splinters, and falls to the ground. I take off towards the doors that lead outside, and thankfully they were open.

I spot the train taking off slowly, and I start running at a moderate pace trying to catch my breath. The train starts to pick up, and I pick my pace up hearing my feet stomp on the gravel trying to keep up. I don’t realize how fast I’m going but I manage to grab onto one of the side railings. As I latch on Four notices me, and pulls me in. He looks impressed, and stares at me a bit longer before walking off in the direction behind me.

I struggle to control my breathing for a bit, but stay calm and steady. Em, and Caleb are the first to spot me and join me in the middle. “Hi,” Em speaks.

“We thought you weren’t gonna make it when we couldn’t find you by the stop. Where did you go?” Caleb asks.

“I was supposedly supposed to meet Max, but he wasn’t aware that I was supposed to meet him either,” Em shoots me a confused look.

“Who let you out?” I hear Eric speak next to me, and I look at him.

“Max,” I cock my head to the side and smile at him.

“Max did?” He raises his brows, and I nod. He’s silent for a few moments more, but looks between Em, Caleb, and I. “Okay,” He purses his lips. He looks back at me one more time before joining back with the rest of the initiates.

Four throws two long, and narrow duffle bags into the middle of the train. “The games simple, it’s like capture the flag,”

Eric unrolls the duffle, and pulls up a long metal weapon. “Weapon of choice,” He holds it up mid-air.

“You call that a gun?” A girl beside Eric scoffs, staring over at Wyatt to her left. She’s naturally very tall and slim. Probably five foot eleven to six foot. She has medium length brown hair, and brown eyes, and I wonder why I hadn’t recognized her sooner. Eric pulls back the hammer, and shoots her in the leg. She falls back onto the walls of the train, and slides down to the floor in agony. She groans out, holding onto her thigh as she shoots daggers at Eric. She’s still whimpering as Eric leans over, and pulls out a small, metal, serum filled bullet.

He holds it up for everyone to see, but sets his eyes on me as he speaks. “Neurostim dart, stimulates the pain of a real gunshot wound only last a couple of minutes. Two teams; Four, and I are captains,”

“You pick first,” Four gives Eric the honor.

“Okay,” Eric gives Four a pleased look. “Edward,”

“I’ll take the outsider,” Four looks over at me, but then back up at Eric.

“Oh,” He drones out. “Picking the ones who’ll never make it so you’ll have someone to blame when you lose?” He nods his head.

“Something like that,” Four smirks back at him, and I can pick up the hint of rivalry already.

As the train nears both teams split ways, and wander off to either side of the abandoned amusement park. “Where did Eric’s team go?” Zephryine questions the team as a whole.

“They must’ve gone to the end,” Artiste explains. Four pulls out a neon yellow flag, and holds it out with him.

“Alright, lights off. Gather around. What’s your strategy?” He questions them.

“We can hide the flag so they won’t find us,” Artiste speaks.

“I say we blitz em, beat them with sheer force,” Another initiate speaks up. They all argue and chatter about different tactics, but I look around my surroundings. I sneak off, and push open one of the building doors. I run up the flight of stairs till I’m at the roof, and I sneak to the edge to peek at the rest of the park.

“You think like my girlfriend Tris,” I jump slightly at Four’s voice behind me.

“Great minds think alike,” I state, and he chuckles.

“What’s your plan?”

“Spot the flag, and,” I pause looking around, and spot a flash of neon green by the top of the bell tower. “Split into four. Two groups along the sides, two in the middle. Whatever team makes it to the bell tower first will give us a signal, and we’ll fight the rest off until they can get to the top,”

“Good plan, I’ll warn the rest, and send Emily, and a few others towards you,” I shake my head, and follow him down and out making sure not to cause too much noise.

“Hey, what about Eric?” Four asks, and I turn.

“I’ll deal with him. Just make sure to try and overthrow his team and reach the tower first,”

Shortly, Em, Caleb, Zephryine, and Artiste are awaiting me. “Now, we can stay in the same side location but we must split. They’ll notice if we’re paired up. If you hear any cries for help, try to help each other out. If you spot the flag or are near the bell tower abandon us, and go for the flag,”

Everyone nods, and we all split sneaking off into the different corners, and shadows. I crouch behind the shadow of some bushes when I hear footsteps, and keep still as a few of Eric’s team members pass by. I wait until they’re past a few buildings before I jet to the end of the amusement park. I see a few members from my own team jog up to me.

“Eric’s in the bell tower. What do you want to do?” One of them asks.

“You attack where the most of his team members are. Distract all of them from entering the bell tower. If he’s the only one in the tower, I can handle him,” They all nod, and run back off. I hear the first round of darts, and I bolt to the tower’s entrance shielding my face. Luckily, everyone seemed preoccupied with fighting each other that I was able to access it with no problems. I sneak in slowly noticing one lone member guarding the bell tower door.

I sneak up behind him, and keep him in a chokehold until he’s knocked out. I lay him down gently, and pull my hammer back as I sneak up the stairs. Before I can push open the door above to climb up I feel something grasp my foot, and I’m yanked down the stairs. I turn towards the person dragging me, and I notice it’s Wyatt. I aim at his neck, and he falls down the last flight of stairs. He screams out in pain as his body meets with the concrete on the ground level. As I run to look over him, I see two more darts hit him and I look up to find Zephryine, and Artiste by the doorway. He groans out in pain as they both near. Zephryine walks closer and shoots him one more time near the groin. “Asshole,” She mutters before following us both up the stairs.

“Thanks,” I huff out, and they just smile in return. We approach the upper doorway as a trio and are greeted by two more of Eric’s teammates.

“Go, we’ll deal with them,” He nudges me, and I climb up the ladder trying to avoid getting darted but feel a pinch on my outer thigh as I push open the hatch, and climb up. I whimper out in pain, and crawl up trying to recover from the dart shot to spot Eric. He’s seated on the floor with his dart gun pointed at the middle of my forehead. Fuck me.

I keep eye contact with him, and swat the gun out of my face with enough force to throw him off. I ball my fist up with my other hand, and swing at his face, landing a punch right on his lip. He clenches his jaw, and spits a bit of blood on the floor beside him. His hands land on my throat, and I struggle to reach him as he begins to push himself up off the floor with just his knees. I wrap my fingers around his wrists, and push back settling him back on the floor.

I somehow manage to straddle him to prevent him from standing as I reach for the dart gun beside me. His eyes flicker over to where I’m reaching and he loosens his grip on my neck, giving me enough time to reach for it, and stand up. I shoot him once in the chest, and once in his lower abdomen. He groans out in pain as he lays on the floor, and I walk over and crouch beside him. I grab a hold of collar and pull him up to me as he yanks one of the darts out of his chest, and throw it off to the side.

“You’re making this game so easy,” I joke, and kiss him on his cheek before pushing him back and shooting him in the chest one more time. He yells out in frustration, but I turn back to the edge of the bell tower and grab the neon green flag. As I take it off, and wave it I hear Artiste, and Zephryine climb up and join me.

They’re both laughing as they spot Eric on the floor still in pain, and join me to cheer loud. A few of our teammates notice us, and begin to celebrate. We just won our first War Game.

. . . . . .

My body feels alive. After the rush of adrenaline from the zip line I felt like I was ready to conquer the world. I follow the group of initiates that I went zip lining with, and follow them into the pit. This time it isn’t a bunch of dauntless brawling, but a bustling night life. People all gathered around in groups holding beer bottles, and mixed drinks.

“Last day of physical initiate training. We need to celebrate!” Zephryine exclaims. She grabs a hold of my wrist and pulls me to a small bar nearby. There’s a line of dauntless, and most are headed back into the pit, but there are still some seats empty by the bartender.

“Give me something strong!” Zephryine smiles at the attractive bartender, and he returns her smile with a smirk.

“You got it, beautiful,” He winks, and looks over at me with raised brows. “What can I get you? Something strong too?” He asks.

“Double whiskey ginger,” I smile, and he nods his head in approval.

“You ladies smoke? I’ll be out back in a few minutes,” He raises his brows, and I nod. Zephryine looks uncomfortable, but nods her head.

“I smoke, she doesn’t. But she’ll come,” I reassure him, and she squeezes my hand under the table as a silent thank you.

. . .

I’m three or four double whiskeys in, and I feel the buzz start to hit my system all at once. I question why I feel so drunk, and think about what I ate that day until I realize I hadn’t really. I had a two bananas, and an apple. That’s definitely not enough. I sigh to myself as I realize that I’d have to suffer being more fucked up than normal. Zephryine is a wild wind of fun; Dancing, and pulling me towards the pit.

“I’ll be out to smoke in like 20 mins. Both of you can meet me there,” Charlie, the bartender yelled over at us. I smiled, and gave him a thumbs up. While we were drinking we all shared some cool facts about each other, and Charlie seemed like a really genuine, down to earth guy. I could tell Zephryine was smitten over him, and I was happy she had found her own attractive dauntless member to befriend.

Music boomed through the pit, and my entire body felt really buzzed. Swaying to the beat was nothing but a breeze. Zephryine and I swayed, and danced to the rhythmic beat laughing as we both stumbled around quite a bit. I grabbed her hand swaying my hips, and started grinding on her lightly. A pair of hands grabs onto my hips, and I defensively swat them away. I look up to find a random dauntless member, and I furrow my brows, and drag Zephryine away. He continues to follow me, and I poke my index finger into his chest keeping him at bay, and away from me. He takes the hint with ease, and moves onto the next dancing girl. I feel a pat on the back of my arm, and both Zephryine and I turn to see Charlie.

“Hi,” She quips.

“Ready?” He asks, and we nod and follow him outside. He pulls out a pre-rolled joint, and lights it. He passes it to me, and we both exchange taking hits. I take another drag, and hold my breath letting the high really blend with my drunk-ness. We’re all sat on the floor so the effects of anything haven’t and won’t hit me till I’m up and walking.

“Cross faded at its finest,” Charlie laughs, and I laugh along with him.

“I wanna smoke, but I feel like I’d cough up a left lung,” Zephryine adds.

“Don’t worry, I can teach you one day if you’re free,” I raise a brow, and smirk in Zephryine’s direction. She glances at me quickly, but returns her attention back to Charlie. They move closer together, so I grab the joint and take another deep inhale. As I take another pull before passing it back someone snatches it out of my hand and hands it back to Charlie.

“She’s done,” I turn to my side, and see Eric. Who under the moon light, looks frustrated. Not an emotion I’ve seen so far. I’ve only experienced anger, and his childish temperament. I’m still holding in my inhale as he swoops an arm under my arm, and around my waist to pull me up. I feel light butterflies, but try to keep a straight face.

“Clean this up, and get back inside,” He speaks to Charlie, and Zephryine and they both nod. I blow the remaining smoke in his direction, and protest.

“Hey, hey. You can ruin my high, but don’t ruin theirs,” I pout as he shakes his head and drags me back into the pit by my upper bicep. He continues to drag me till we’re nearing the elevators. “Ow! You’re hurting my arm asshole,” I frown at him pulling back my arm, and rubbing it when he lets go.

“I’m the asshole. Okay,” He nods his head to himself, in a sarcastic manner. I feel my inner subconscious scolding me, and telling me to obey him and be quiet but my drunk side isn’t letting it slip.

“Yeah! You are! And you know what else you’re a real party pooper. I could’ve been having fun, maybe met someone nice. But you sabotaged that!” I cross my arms over my chest as the elevator doors open. I turn to go back to the pit, but he’s got my arm again and he’s pulling me back into the elevators.

“The only reason why I’m complying is because I’m drunk, and I have nothing better to do,” I say in a matter of factly tone.

As the elevator rides up, I feel the effects of both in me, and the elevator seems to make me dizzier. I open and close my eyes a few times taking in my state of mind, and mindlessly hop around the halls until we reach his door to his apartment.

“I forgot your passcode, but I have a badge! Badge to the rescue!!” I exclaim laughing to myself as I pull my badge out, and scan it letting myself in. I kick my shoes off in to the corner, and take off my jacket placing it on one of the couches. I plop on the couch, and make myself comfortable.

“Get up, you’re sleeping upstairs,” He states, and I look up at him with a confused expression.

“What if you bring someone over last minute. I’d rather just be here,” I pat the cushion, and look back at him. “It’s comfy! It will do!” I smile, and he takes a deep inhale.

“Upstairs, now.” He demands, and I pretend to be shocked.

“Demanding,” I roll my eyes, and follow him. I hear him growl lightly to himself, and I can tell I’m pushing his buttons. “Okay, master. I’ll obey your orders,” I pause turning back. “For tonight,” I raise my brows, and walk up the stairs.

I walk over to my duffle bag, and pull out makeup wipes. I rub the cloth all over my face till my face is completely clean, and I throw the wipe in the trash. I rub a small black hand towel over the rest of my face to get rid of the remainder before turning back to Eric’s bed. I see him toss a shirt, and boxers on the bed before turning to take off his clothes. He’s in his boxers only, and I can feel how odd I must look staring at him while he undresses, but my mind seems to only be concentrated on him right now.

I climb onto the bed, and he grabs my ankle and pulls me back. “Change into these,” He states, and I turn back to him with a pout.

“I don’t wanna,” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest.

He does another deep inhale, and I don’t wait to see his next reaction. I’m not wearing a bra. I think to myself, but a hidden spark of confidence tells me to not care, and take it off anyway. I pull off my shirt, and slide off the bed to take off my pants, and underwear. I slip on his boxers, and almost stumble over my own feet in the process. He steadies me with one hand, and let’s me hold onto him as I pull them up.

“Hands up,” He drones out, and I comply letting him place his shirt over my head.

As the material goes over my head I’m met with his muscular chest. There are small hairs peeking through, and I notice two bruises on his pecs. He moves from me, and sits on the edge of the bed pulling his socks off. I feel a strange impulse to straddle his lap, and though sober I may have fought the urge and went to sleep. I wasn’t sober and I didn’t want to fight the urge. As I straddle him, he doesn’t tense, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s tired or if he’s planning a way to throw me off and kill me. I keep staring at his chest, and the bruises that formed. My mind flashes to me shooting him in the chest with the nuerostim dart, and I feel a pang of guilt.

“Did I do this?” I ask him as I look up at him, and he’s already staring at me.

“It’ll heal, it was just darts,” He replies, confirming my thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” I reply, brushing my hands softly over his pecs. I look back at him, not surprised he’s still staring at my intently. It’s his thing, I guess. I take notice in his eyes, and his pupils are blown out wide. My core responds, and I fidget on him. His hands roam up my upper thighs, and grasp onto my hips hard. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I’m not sure if he can hear it too. Kiss him. My subconscious cheers, and claps in the background. My eyes trail from his eyes to his lips and back up. I notice the sides of his lip are still a little red, and puffy from when I punched him in the mouth. I move my hands up, and lightly trace over it with my thumb. I blink a few times, hoping that maybe I’ll snap out of this trance but I don’t.

I lean in and place a small, needy kiss on his lips. He doesn’t kiss back so I retreat pushing myself off of him. “I-um. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I stutter out, looking down as I speak to him. When I look up he’s standing with me, and his chest is moving up and down. He doesn’t make any sudden movements, but when he walks to me I instinctively take a step back afraid that he might attack. I feel his hands grab my face and pull me to him as he kisses me hard. At first I’m surprised but I immediately melt into the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he grabs my ass and hauls me up to his waist. I feel him turn towards the bed as I wrap my legs tight around his lower hips.

I begin to feel nervous as I have yet to have sex willingly with anyone, and briefly wondered if I should tell him if we go that far. I was too aroused at the moment to protest, and just moaned in response. He growls, and throws me onto the bed climbing in and over me. His lips latch onto the side of my neck, and he sucks hard. My eyes flutter at the sensation until I hear a loud knocking sound.

As easy as the sensations came, was as easy as they went. The knocking continued but gets louder over time.

“Eric, open up. We have a situation at the chasm,” I hear him growl, as he grips onto the side of one of my hips. He pushes himself off me, and takes a deep breath before pulling his clothes back on and heading off towards the door. I sit up on my feet as he walks towards the stairs. He looks back briefly, and pauses but continues to pace down the stairs. I hear the door swing open, and him bark at the dauntless outside his room.

I could only hear brief bits, but it involved something about something found in the chasm, and that it didn’t make any sense. But the door was already slammed shut before I could hear anymore.

What could be going on in the chasm that needed him leave this late at night?

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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Met With A Zap, Chapter 5

TITLE: Met With A Zap CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 5 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Darcy and Loki meeting for the first time. They instantly dislike each other and are constantly at one another’s throats in arguments. Darcy even ends up using her taser on him at one point. Others around them get fed up of being stuck in the middle of their pranks and arguments. But eventually, Loki finds himself falling for her sassy mouth. RATING: M

‘WHERE IS SHE?’ I heard Loki yelling to Jane as soon as they got back from their mission later in the day.

I laughed to myself and waited in the lounge. I knew he would find me soon enough. Which he did. And I nearly fell over with laughter. It was very easy to tell by the look on his face that he was absolutely fuming. But the helmet on his head still being pink is obviously what got me.

‘How DARE you tamper with MY helmet! Making it this abominable colour!’ Loki yelled at me.

‘Calm your tits, horn boy. Why didn’t you just poof it off?’

‘It would have to be an illusion and that takes up valuable energy that I needed for the mission. So now it is over, and I have been ridiculed on front of the others and our enemies, you will clean this all off.’ He growled and threw the helmet into my hands.

‘I am not your slave, buddy. This, however, would so suit me.’

Loki’s POV

I watched in annoyance as she put my helmet on her own head. But it slipped down and covered her eyes. I couldn’t hold back a silent chuckle. She was oddly refreshing compared to the others here. The only mortal I had met so far that dared try and trick me back. I must admit myself, however humiliating today was, it was a good trick.

Darcy’s POV

He plucked his helmet off me and with a roll of his eyes he stormed off, to presumably clean his helmet.

I went to see Thor and he laughed when he saw me.

‘Darcy. We owe you for much entertainment during our mission.’

‘Just doing my job’ I grinned. ‘Thor can I speak to you privately?’ I asked quietly.

‘What is troubling you, Darcy?’ He asked as he put a hand on my shoulder.

‘Loki said he couldn’t use his magic to change the helmet as it would use up energy he needed. But I didn’t think that kind of illusion would use up much energy?’

‘It is a delicate subject. He used to be able to carry out magic and illusions with great ease. Some of his magic was fascinating and some just plain annoying. However, when we found him he was beaten and weak. That’s why when we found him, it was a few days before we took him back here. He is slowly regaining his strength, but it is a slow process I fear.’

‘Oh shit. What happened to him? Who beat him up?’ I asked. I was feeling a little bad for him. I thought he could have just poofed his helmet back to normal.

‘We do not know. He can’t remember who or what happened. It is as though his memory has been wiped. The last thing he remembers is falling into the abyss. Then awakening when we found him. But it had been 9 months since the abyss accident. So something happened to him. Just, nobody knows what. Not even Loki himself knows.’

After speaking to Thor I went to find Loki. He was washing all the pink off his helmet. I felt sorry for him and a little guilty at my prank. So I picked up a scrubbing brush and sat down next to him to help. He looked at me with confusion written all over his face.

‘What are you doing?’ He asked quietly.

‘I’m helping. Why, does it look like I’m dancing?’ I teased. He smirked and turned his attention back to his helmet.

‘I’m sorry for making a fool of you. I honestly thought you would be able to poof it back to normal… I never realised you were slowly building your strength up again. Thor explained to me.’

‘Don’t bother apologizing. It was a good prank, I must admit. Certainly got me back for the last few weeks anyway.’ Loki chuckled.

It was odd, having a conversation like this with Loki. Perhaps I had been too quick to judge him. Although I still had some more pranks up my sleeve. I wasn’t going to back down that easily. And from the twinkle of mischief in his eyes, I knew he was probably thinking the same.

‘Why are you working here?’ Loki asked rather out of the blue.

‘I’m Jane’s intern. Wherever she goes, I go. To be fair, this place is a lot more fun than when it was just Jane, Eric and I in New Mexico. Besides the pay is ace. Well, Jane’s pay is. I don’t get paid.’

‘You don’t get paid? How do you buy food? I get all that provided, but you don’t live here.’ Loki pointed out the obvious.

‘I just get some off Jane. She provides me with whatever I need really.’ I shrugged.

‘Hmm. Interesting.’ Loki mumbled.

We finished cleaning the helmet with some small talk, just as Clint and Natasha walked in.

‘Well if it isn’t the two troublemakers. Making peace are you? Or planning world domination together?’ Clint asked with a smirk.

‘Shut up, you. What’s going down?’ I asked as I washed my hands. The two were armed and ready to fight, which made me think something was up.

‘We need Loki again. There’s been an alien attack just out of the city. Sounds like a few of them that got away from us this morning.’ Natasha explained.

Loki sighed and put on his helmet.

‘Let’s go then.’

Loki’s POV

We were on our way back from fighting off the last of the aliens. I was feeling pretty tired, two fights in one day. Normally that would have been nothing. I really couldn’t wait to get all my energy back. I could feel it slowly regenerating each day, but it would take a while.

‘Widow.’

‘What? And for the millionth time, it’s Natasha.’ Widow snarled.

‘Whatever… I fear that these aliens are trying to get closer to us, someone or something. It is odd how they were just outside New York. A lot closer than where we fought them earlier. Does everyone who works at HQ get training in combat?’

‘No, only those that are going to be out on the field at some point. Why?’

‘I was only curious. As if we are going to be under attack, perhaps training for Darcy might be an idea.’ I suggested.

‘Just Darcy?’ Natasha asked as one of her eyebrows quirked up.

‘No. Jane as well. I was just suggesting. So they wouldn’t be completely useless if we were under attack.’ I said and wondered away. I heard Thor saying to Widow that it would be a wonderful idea. For once he actually agreed with me.

Darcy’s POV

The following day when Natasha told me that Jane and I were going to go into training, I nearly collapsed with excitement. I mean, fighting bad guys and shit. That would be amazing. I had always admired the Avengers and their skills. To be able to do something worthwhile for a change instead of just playing territory war would be incredible. Besides, Natasha’s moves were so bad ass. With her teaching us, what could go wrong?

Everything. Every fucking thing that could go wrong, went wrong.

I accidentally gave Clint a nose bleed. Somehow managed to punch myself in the arm… Don’t even ask. I also fell flat on my face, luckily on padded mats, while trying to take a swing at Thor. This was all on the first day of training.

But the icing on the cake was once more thanks to horn boy.

I was trying to hold onto the monkey bars above me. Natasha had told me to imagine there was a pool of sharks underneath. I had only made it one bar across when my belt unbuckled itself and my jeans slid down around my ankles. Just so happens today was the day I decided to wear my Hello Kitty knickers. Great. Just great.

‘FUCK!’ I screamed out as I let go of the bars and hastily pulled my jeans up to try and save whatever modesty I had left.

‘YOU!’ I shouted at Loki as he was stood sniggering from the side. He had been watching the training session and clearly decided I hadn’t already suffered enough.

Clint and Thor did chuckle as well. But Natasha was on my side. At least someone was. She patted my shoulder and said that would do for the day. I happily accepted that fact.

As I dragged myself through to the kitchen I knew Loki was following me. He sat down next to me when I pulled out a packet of oreos. He went to take one but I moved it out of his reach.

‘Give me one, mortal.’ He growled.

‘No. You were mean to me.’ I argued.

‘Perhaps. But it was rather amusing to watch. Unlike Jane, you are not the most graceful when it comes to combat fighting.’

‘Yeah because she just has to be better than me at everything. As usual, the intern is shit at everything.’ I was really annoyed.

‘I didn’t say that. You are the only mortal that has managed to pull a decent prank on me, the god of mischief. No god has even managed to pull that off.’ Loki said as he sneaked his hand between my arms to grab an Oreo.

‘Really?’ I asked, surprised.

‘I give you my word.’ Loki nodded.

‘You should try something else. Perhaps archery or shooting might be your area of expertise.’ Was the last thing Loki said as he stole the whole dam packet of oreos and wondered away.

That god was so infuriating and dam confusing. One minute he was taking the piss out of me and the next, he was helping me.

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #fanfichiddles #chapter 5 #met with a zap #darcy #arguments #meeting #dislike #fed up #taser #pranks #sassy #Falling in Love

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democratsunited-blog · 6 years

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Are There Clues About The 2020 Democratic Primary In 2018’s Contests?

https://uniteddemocrats.net/?p=3125

Are There Clues About The 2020 Democratic Primary In 2018’s Contests?

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

What have we learned about how the 2020 Democratic presidential primary might play out based on the 2018 primaries?

Sound good?

julia_azari (Julia Azari, political science professor at Marquette University and FiveThirtyEight contributor): 👍🏽

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): Great.

micah: OK, so let’s break this up into two parts …

First up: candidates.

What have we learned about the type of candidate Democrats want?

(Also, something to weigh during this whole chat: How sound is this entire exercise of looking at 2018 congressional primaries for clues about the 2020 presidential primary?)

In short, Democratic voters are open to party-backed candidates.

julia_azari: Perry is right, though I would also note the many anti-Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee stories that came out of California and other places.

perry: Right. Some Democratic activists kind of hate the party. But they still listen to the party.

micah: Wait, isn’t that a little strong?

perry: Which part do you think is wrong, Micah?

micah: Not wrong, but I guess I’m trying to get a sense of degrees.

Clearly, there are anti-establishment forces in the Democratic Party.

But they’re 40 percent weaker than in the GOP?

10 percent weaker?

You know what I mean?

julia_azari: I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

I would argue that in the Democratic Party, those anti-establishment forces are more challenging to combine with a compelling policy/ideological/team-based message than in the GOP.

So, anti-establishment sentiment in the Republican Party was easily paired up with anti-Obama feelings (tea party) and anti-immigration feelings (Trump)?

What’s the comparison for anti-establishment Dems? Single-payer? Campaign finance reform?

micah: Ah, I see. That makes sense. But aren’t they still weaker than in the GOP?

The big difference is that de León does not have a Fox News/Breitbart apparatus attacking Feinstein like a Republican would have.

julia_azari: Perry, it seems like we somewhat disagree on the big picture of how strong these forces are in the Democratic Party, but the media point is a really critical one.

perry: Right. And the incumbent in that race was fairly to the right of the Democratic Party.

micah: Yeah.

But, Julia, you think those anti-establishment forces are even weaker than Perry does?

perry: I feel like I’m saying they are pretty weak in the first place.

micah: Yeah, that’s why I’m confused.

Julia thinks they’re stronger maybe?

💪

julia_azari: No, I’m saying I think we are in danger of underestimating them based on what’s still a pretty small number of observations.

micah: That’s fair.

julia_azari: Trump didn’t happen overnight. Not to toot my own horn, but my piece on Trump and Paul Ryan illustrates how these kinds of forces built up over decades in the Republican Party.

micah: 🎺

(Full disclosure/self-promotion: I am writing a book about party weakness right now, which emphasizes very long-term and slow-moving processes, including the erosion of party legitimacy.)

julia_azari: If I were Joe Biden, I would be focused on the credibility of Feinstein’s challenger, so, yeah, we disagree — though I also admit that we’re extrapolating from not much data.

She could have been treated like Bob Bennett or Richard Lugar but was not.

micah: OK, so we disagree a little about how establishmenty/anti-establishmenty a candidate Democrats might want in 2020.

Let’s talk other candidate characteristics.

There’s been a ton of talk about women doing really well.

From ex-FiveThirtyEighter Allison McCann (though, really, once a FiveThirtyEighter, always a FiveThirtyEighter — whether you like it or not):

perry: It’s totally different to nominate a female candidate for a House race than to nominate a woman to run for president after Hillary Clinton just lost.

micah: Case in point:

micah: Isn’t there research showing that voters are more likely to vote for women for legislative offices than for executive offices?

julia_azari: Here is a study that finds that media coverage is more gendered for those offices.

julia_azari: People LOVE Pete Buttigieg.

julia_azari: It depends somewhat on the way people interpret the 2016 loss.

Democrats could read that loss as, “People aren’t ready to vote for a woman, and we need to be ‘safe.’” (My rant about using the word “safe” that way is redacted for now.)