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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

do you have a list of podfic recs? i listen to a lot of @podfixx but she just has so many it’s hard for me to narrow down what to listen to sometimes. i’d love to give other podfic creators a chance too!

Hi Nonny!!

AHHHH Okay so I am a loser and don’t listen to podfics even though I know I would enjoy it for long road trips, but AHHH I don’t I’m so sorry, so I don’t have any PERSONAL recs, so the BEST I can do is give you a list of fics that I know have Podfics for them, since as I go through my bookmarks and update them, I’ve been adding podfic links to them because I like having my lists be as thorough as possible, so this will ALSO give me a chance for authors who know they have podfics of their stories can add them to my recs and I can add them to my offline list LOL

PODFICS

BOOKMARKED FICS

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Software Malfunction by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (E, 16,679 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Android Sherlock, Love Story, Unhappy Ending, Angst, Suicide, Jealousy) – “You think I can’t love you? Just because you’re made with metal, and detailed programming?” The doctor propped himself on his elbow, and looked down at it. “I am nothing but blood and bone, and tissue. Things just managed get mashed together in a manner that made me like this. Just like you were put together to make you how you are. When I kiss you-” he did so, briefly, to prove his point. Then more deeply, and lingering, because he could. “When I touch you, or smile at you, does it make you feel different from when others have done it in the past?”

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary’s wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn’t exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues – just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time, Blind Sherlock) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

“TO READ” FICS

Curlock by 88thParallel (G, 1,285 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Sherlock’s Hair, Fluff, Ficlet) – How Sherlock learned to control and appreciate the incredible gift he was born with, and the man who helped him sort it out.

Letters, the Writing of by earlgreytea68 (G, 2,416 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF/Hiatus) – While he’s dead, Sherlock writes John letters. Part 1 of the Letters series

Let’s Say I Let You In by kedgeree (E, 9,972 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Halloween, Costume Kink, Est. Rel., Humour, Smut, Vampire Sherlock, Bloodplay, Biting, Romance) – It’s Halloween and Sherlock’s vampire costume is turning John on, but Sherlock doesn’t quite get the idea of a sexy vampire. At least…not at first. Part 4 of the Holidays series

Almost Home by Berty (E, 13,871 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Captain John, Pining John, University Student Sherlock, Gay Bar, First Time, Anal, Mutual Masturbation, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, POV John, Time Skips, Memories, Angst With Happy Ending) – He pulls out the ID card – the one that Sherlock had somehow seen when he was buying drinks at that awful club. He’s had other ID cards since then but he’s hung on to this one for some reason. He looks at the image of his face, young and pale and idealistic, and he knows that just a month later that man would have found and lost the love of his life within a week, and even knowing that, John wouldn’t change a single thing.

Heart on a String by AngelSpirit (E, 23,257 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, First Kiss / Time, Infidelity, Angst, Fluff, Kidlock/Teenlock, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use) – John and Sherlock got married with Cracker Jack rings when they were 7 yrs old. It wasn’t official, but for their whole lives they took it very seriously.

Common Tongues: Unassuming Brilliance by jinglebell (E, 41,174 w., 11 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Anal, Rimming, Snowballing, Language Kink, Blow Jobs, BAMF John, Size Difference, Height Difference, Sapiosexual Sherlock, Barebacking, Size Queen) – John may be predictably average in most things, but there are a handful of areas in which he knows he is uncommonly skilled. He can make a great cup of tea, for one. He’s also good at patching folks up, putting bullets precisely where he wants them, and listening.The one skill that John is perhaps most exceptional in, though, is language. John is a polyglot.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 43,936 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Time, Post-TRF) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns. Post-Reichenbach.

Command Structure by 221b_hound (E, 49,034 w., 16 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF / Not S3 Compliant, Dom/Sub Play, Dom John/Sub Sherlock, Oral/Anal, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Past Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Captain Watson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Slow Build, PTSD Sherlock, Consensual, Past Dub Con, Rimming) – Sherlock Holmes returns from his hunt to destroy Moriarty’s network. He comes home to John, and at long last they start this thing between them that couldn’t begin while Moriarty threatened them. But Sherlock has returned fractured and suffering anxiety attacks. He thinks he needs discipline - the whip - to help him focus and be strong. But his problems are deeper and run back to a childhood of neglect. John Watson is prepared to be Sherlock’s Captain, but he’s a doctor too. His command style isn’t about pain and subjugation. It’s about care and responsibility: and those concepts go in both directions in Captain Watson’s command structure.

Saccharomyces cerevisiae (Baker’s Yeast) by yaycoffee (E, 60,879 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Unplanned Pregnancy / One Night Stand, Drunken Sex, First Kiss/Time, Bit of Case Fic, Sally/Sherlock Drunk Sex First Ch.) – Sometimes, one makes an imprudent decision born of a devastating combination of drink and sentiment. Sometimes, the consequences of that decision take on a life of their own. And sometimes, the facing of those consequences shapes every aspect of one’s life–from the hugely meaningful down to the seemingly insignificant. Part 1 of the Knows His Own series

Perpetual Motion by Fay (orphan_account) (E, 75,789 w., 31 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Romance, Unconventional Relationship, Renegotiation of Boundaries, Virgin Sherlock, Changing Sexuality, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Sex Toys, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Humour, Grieving, Light Bondage, First Kiss / Time, Hand Jobs, Quarrels, Shower Sex, Pillow Humping/Frottage, Oral Sex, Slight Self-Harm, Chastity Device) – Everyone thinks that they’re a couple, but Sherlock’s self-sexual and John’s straight, so they’re never going to fall in love, are they? Even if neither of them can imagine life without the other.

The Blog of Eugenia Watson by Mad_Lori (G, 95,026 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || OC POV, Parentlock, Teenagers, Diary / Blogging / Journal, Family, Humour) – I like to think of this not so much as a blog but as the first draft of my inevitably best-selling memoirs. My Life In an Unconventional Family. How unconventional? Well, I live with my divorced parents and my dad’s husband. How’s that for starters? Trust me, it gets weirder.My name is Eugenia Watson, but you can call me Genie. I’m sixteen. This is my life. Note: Work is marked complete for now and is on hiatus, having reached a convenient stopping point. Additional chapters may be added in the future.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes.” Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier (E, 130.380 w., 26 Ch. || Pacific Rim Fusion || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Family Drama, Accidental Telepathic Voyeurism, Martial Arts, Sci-Fi, Internalised Homophobia, Rubbish Siblings, Army Doctor John, Medical H/C, Bullying, Neurodiversity, PTSD, Drug Use, Depression, Mourning, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, UST/URT) – A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w., 57 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. “It is what it is.” John Watson is what happens when what “it is” becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #podfics #my fic recs #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

Text

Persistence - 10

@badthingshappenbingo square “Attacked in their sleep”

(white dots are requested, red dots are filled. Request with an ask, specific story or character optional)

Find the masterlist for this series here! We’re finally back with the other crew this chapter. We haven’t seen them in, like, four chapters so you can read chapter five if you need a refresher on what they’ve been up to.

Tag list (ask to be added or removed): @whump-tr0pes, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @doitforthewhump, @shameless-whumper, @endless-whump, @theycomeinthrees, @faewhump, @lonesome--hunter

CW: consensual and nonsexual nudity, dealing with emotions in an unhealthy way, ambush, mild gore in descriptions of bleeding, death, misguided killing? sorta? it’s complicated.

“See you in the morning,” he spat, slamming Floyd’s head against the wall and adjusting something on his collar before leaving with the rest of the soup and muttering to himself on his way out.

“Enjoy your nap.”

(Meanwhile, back on The Thief’s Halyard)

Ray wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow, stepping into the cabins. It had been a long day after the sleepless night that preceded it, and the coming night would only feel longer. It didn’t seem like anyone else around him could feel it, but the atmosphere had changed drastically since Floyd… wasn’t there.

The blue skies were grayer, and the sun crossing the sky was a scalding reminder that time was still passing. The pep and joy so commonly passed around the ship dissipated into vague anxiety and what seemed like fear at Ray’s presence. But that didn’t matter so much. Every moment they spent on this blind pursuit was another moment that anything could be happening, really, and it was taking time for that to settle in with everyone.

He hadn’t been hit that hard by the situation. He was still himself. Nobody had any reason to think otherwise. He’d been a little more domineering since Floyd’s disappearance nearly two days before, but it wasn’t a major change. He’d always been a strong captain before this.

He wasn’t so sure why, despite all that, Clara had flinched away from his hand on her shoulder earlier.

Or why the majority of his crew wouldn’t make eye contact when they spoke.

He went out of his way to be down to earth and friendly. Nothing had changed about that.

He shook his head and cleared his thoughts when he stepped in front of Mabel’s door. No time for that now. Ray raised a hand to knock three times and turned the handle to let himself in since she couldn’t, or at least shouldn’t, get up to open it on her own.

Inside, Mabel was laying down on her bed with Clara sitting by her side, hunched over a stool, expression tight with what looked like anxiety. Both raised their eyes as he stepped in. He felt like a silence had fallen because of his presence.

“Mabel, Clara,” he inclined his head to each of them, offering a tight smile which neither returned. “...am I interrupting anything? I can leave just the way I came and be back later.” There was no response for a few seconds and he was just about to leave anyway when Clara spoke up.

“No, you’re alright! I was just going to change Mabel’s bandages,” she said quickly, waving him in. Ray obliged with a small nod, closing the door gently behind him before taking a seat next to where his quartermaster lay. She lifted a hand for him as Clara peeled back heavy blankets to reveal her bandages, and he clasped it in his own.

“Oh, do you mind…?” she glanced between Mabel and Ray, just then processing that she had opted to stay bare under the covers.

“Ray’s fine. It’s been a long time since he was in the business of touching women, hasn’t it?” Mabel tilted her head, voice lifting to a light, joking tone. He didn’t seem to hear her at first, eyes foggy and staring off into the distance.

“...what? Oh, no, not for almost thirty years since I survived off of my mother’s milk,” Ray chuckled, but it was flat and forced.

“Right,” Clara nodded as she peeled off Mabel’s bandages and got to work cleaning excess blood and re-wrapping the wound.

“So,” she winced at a cloth pressing against her side, reigniting the pain there, “how have things been with the crew? Everyone hard at work out there?”

“Oh, you know, smooth sailing and all that,” Ray smiled sadly, but it melted off of his face, “everything’s sort of dreary, but it’s alright.”

He squeezed Mabel’s hand and felt her squeeze back, fingers tracing silently over his, and lingering in the space where his left pinkie was missing. A wound from battle years ago that she had helped take care of. She’d taken care of him then, but he needed to take care of her now. He was doing all he could to deal with every other situation, so the least he could do was be a comforting presence and shove everything else down in the back of his mind where it belonged.

“But, well, I did catch James doing something pretty odd earlier,” Ray smiled again, and it stuck genuinely as he thought back to just hours before.

“Did you now?” she grinned, thrilled to hear gossip about her fellow crew members. No matter how much all of them bonded and shared with each other, they’d always have secrets that Ray and Mabel were eager to find out. They never encroached too far on the crew’s privacy, but sometimes it was too captivating to ignore.

“Of course. So we know that him and Edith definitely have something going on, but as it turns out…” he rambled on and on about how James obviously had an eye for Edith, but he’d been writing a letter to a former love, apparent in the swirling hearts drawn carefully across the front of the envelope. Mabel was wrapped up in his tale, but Clara evidently tried to tune it out as she worked. When she was finished Ray dismissed her, to her clear relief.

They chatted for a while after that, but evening came and soon a dark night swallowed the gentle light from the window. Ray left her to sleep, went back to his own quarters, and worked at his desk for hours into the night, a single candle burning the midnight oil.

——————————————————

Ray woke later in the night with an aching soreness in his neck and his head pressed up against a hard surface that was decidedly not his pillow. His eyes fluttered open to see the wooden grain of his desk, illuminated only by the soft glow of a steadily burning candle. He’d fallen asleep while working.

It wasn’t surprising, given the minimal sleep he’d had for the past few days, but it was dangerous. Ray stood to meander over to his bed, forgetting about the candle as swiftly as he’d remembered it.

It struck him as strange when he felt a pressure on his legs and the chair rose along with him, but he didn’t realize exactly why until he felt the press of a blade through his clothing.

“Captain Raymond Bates of The Thief’s Halyard, sit your ass right the hell down!” someone shouted, and he balked at the vulgar command. He raised his hands in a silent surrender but didn’t sit. Looking down, he noticed that the chair was bound to his legs around his thighs, but not his ankles. A clear oversight considering he could still stand up, and his attacker seemed quite distressed that they’d forgotten this detail.

Assured by their mistake, he turned around and lowered his hands when he came face to face with two individuals. He couldn’t make out much in the dark, but the one on the other end of the sword, now pointed at his chest, was a tall woman with unkempt long hair. The other appeared male but had the same wild mane. Certainly not any major military force, then.

“Sit down! I won’t ask you again,” she growled, pressing the swordpoint harder into his chest. This lady definitely wanted something from him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t kill him with a careless, rage induced blow. Slowly, Ray sat back in the chair.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked, voice deliberately light and collected.

“Nobody you know. We just want the reward out for bringing your crew to justice and spearing your ugly ass head on a pike,” her eyes gleamed as she said it, but Ray was more concerned by the alleged reward for his crew than he was by the implication that she planned to kill him.

“I didn’t know I’d offended anyone so recently. Care to elaborate?” he asked. She shook her head with a smile.

“We know people,” the woman shrugged, “and they said they’d pay a handsome fuckin’ sum if we took out the children tugging at their coattails. So, you and your assistant are going to help us gather everyone up. If you don’t, we kill all of them.”

It took him a few seconds to realize what she meant, and even longer to realize there was only one person he’d been remotely bothering recently. How Percival had managed to get people on his trail already was beyond him, but they were here now and they were out for blood. He clenched his jaw before he could express too much and looked back up at her.

“Alright, I’ll help you. I look strange tied to this chair, though.” She looked him over for a second in consideration, called the other man standing guard back over, and sheathed her sword.

“Fine. Just don’t you fucking dare try anything, got it?”

“Yeah. No funny business. Got it.” He moved his hands out of the way as she came closer, grasping the back of the chair. She bent her knee and reached for where the rope was knotted.

Just as she did, Ray shot up and spun, whipping her across the face with the chair legs. She cried out and scrambled to defend herself, but he quickly backpedaled and pinned her to the wall with the chair pressing hard into her chest. The woman was stunned temporarily, but by now the man had realized what was going on and rounded on him with his sword drawn.

Ray raised his fists but realized there was no way to get a hit in past a blade, especially while still pinning someone to the wall. He spun again instead, deflecting the sword and knocking the man off balance. He careened towards the wall as Ray stumbled, almost tripping over himself as he tried to fetch his own rapier.

The chair tied around his thighs became more of a hindrance at that moment, weighing down his weary legs and dragging him even further off balance. By the time he was able to pick up his sword and draw it, the man was already upon him with the woman not far behind.

Ray heard crashing down the hallway as he fought, swinging desperately at his opponent as he was slowly cornered. He felt strikes hit his arms, but no flare of pain came even after the blood flowed and stained his shirt.

He took a step backwards, but the chair only pressed harder into his back as he realized he’d been run up against the wall. His bed to the left and the other wall to the right created the perfect trap, and he cursed himself for falling right into it.

He was hopelessly overwhelmed, but at that moment a figure appeared in the doorway and rushed in. At first he thought it was another attacker, but they quickly shoved the woman to the side, pounding her head against the ground with an ear splitting crack that made the other man whirl around in surprise. Ray took his chance, plunging the rapier through his chest and pulling it back out just seconds later.

Blood sprayed from the wound and he grimaced, looking past the body as it fell to see Mabel staring back at him. The first thing he noticed was the blood staining her dark skin, shimmering in the dim light of the candle. The second thing he noticed was that she was still nude except for the sword belt wrapped hastily around her waist. The third thing he noticed was that he could only see this because he still hadn’t blown out his damn candle.

The adrenaline quickly faded when neither of their attackers rose from the floor, and Ray was frozen until his legs nearly buckled under the continued weight of the chair. He sat down, reaching for his knife on the nightstand to cut the ropes still holding him down.

“Are you… alright?” Mabel asked, her voice rasping and not quite awake.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… yeah, they attack you too?” he said, sawing quickly through what turned out to be fairly low quality rope. The fibers were rotted and stiff, loosely wound around each other. Ray made quick work of the makeshift bindings.

“Yep. Just one scrawny little thing; I knocked him out and ran to you,” she explained, helping him up once he freed himself. “Was the chair… what was the chair…?”

“They tied me to it,” Ray laughed, “told me they wanted to kill me, and I hit them with it. Probably should have let her untie it first.”

“Maybe,” Mabel mused mockingly, only snapping out of the trance when they heard footsteps from somewhere outside. “Shit, okay, there’s probably more of them. Obviously. You: sword. Me: uh- clothes?”

“Yeah, just-” he cut himself off, gesturing loosely to the dresser where he kept the few spare outfits he’d accumulated over the years. Mabel slipped on a shirt and pants, a little too short on her but enough to do the job. The two slipped out of his room and scanned the hallway where there were no other attackers. They headed to the deck where they spotted the smaller schooner sailing alongside them and two sailors climbing from its deck to theirs.

“Halt, both of you!” Ray shouted, sword drawn and pointed at the pair. They froze, apparently not expecting two armed enemies to be staring them down. The second figure clambered over onto the deck and drew their own sword, but didn’t move to engage yet.

“We already dealt with your friends, so just put the weapons down and we might let you go with your lives,” Mabel said, flashing a dark glare that glowed in the moonlight. They seemed to pause for a second, deliberating in silent glances before they conceded and lowered their blades to the ground.

It almost seemed too easy, but they were amateurs after all. Confidence and determination without any skill or record to back it up like someone of real stature would. There was a reason a name like Percival could have men shivering in their boots even when the bastard was thousands of leagues away, after all…

Ray focused back on the present and not the burning rage stewing in his gut, fixing a glare instead on the pair before them. The pair whose crew had almost murdered him, almost taken his friend, along with his crew, his family. Without a second thought, he stalked forward, drew back his rapier, and plunged it right into the neck of the attacker closest to him. He twisted the blade with a menace, watching, enraptured, as blood spurted and splattered over his face.

After taking a final look at terror filled eyes in the darkness of the night, he kicked them in the chest and watched as they fell off of his blade to the ground, spasming and screaming silently in their last moments of life. Then he turned to the second one, a maniacal grin contorting his face.

They bent down and scrambled for their sword, but they couldn’t even grasp it before Ray’s plunged through their gut and pulled back out again with a flourish.

Then Ray stabbed him again. And again. And again.

Below him in the darkness, through his eyes, it was Percival bleeding out into a puddle and choking on the fluid that bubbled up his throat. He was dying and dying and he was dead, unmoving. He was gone, and Floyd was somewhere safe and sound like he was always supposed to be, like he always deserved to be, and everything was okay now.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, eyes wide with madness and fury as he spun to see another figure in the darkness.

“Ray? Ray, hey, it’s Mabel. Are you here? Are you with me?” Mabel spoke low, her voice shaking with something he couldn’t recognize. His breath shuddered and he peered up at her, then looked below him at the man he’d just mutilated. Unseeing, unmistakably blue eyes stared up at him underneath the wounds he’d just inflicted.

Blue eyes. Not orange. Not haunting, and intriguing, and mesmerizing. Not Percival.

“I…” Ray trailed off blankly. “I’m here. I think I’m alright I just- I don’t know what came over me…” His voice grew thick with clouded emotions, eyes tearing up in shock.

“No, listen, it’s alright. We’re gonna have to talk about this, but right now we need to keep everyone safe. That’s what you wanna do right? Keep these people from taking anyone else away from us?”

Slowly, languidly, Ray nodded.

“Right… you’re right.”

Next part

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arcticdementor · 4 years

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But police violence, and Trump’s daily assaults on the presidential competence standard, are only part of the disaster. On the other side of the political aisle, among self-described liberals, we’re watching an intellectual revolution. It feels liberating to say after years of tiptoeing around the fact, but the American left has lost its mind. It’s become a cowardly mob of upper-class social media addicts, Twitter Robespierres who move from discipline to discipline torching reputations and jobs with breathtaking casualness.

The leaders of this new movement are replacing traditional liberal beliefs about tolerance, free inquiry, and even racial harmony with ideas so toxic and unattractive that they eschew debate, moving straight to shaming, threats, and intimidation. They are counting on the guilt-ridden, self-flagellating nature of traditional American progressives, who will not stand up for themselves, and will walk to the Razor voluntarily.

They’ve conned organization after organization into empowering panels to search out thoughtcrime, and it’s established now that anything can be an offense, from a UCLA professor placed under investigation for reading Martin Luther King’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” out loud to a data scientist fired* from a research firm for — get this — retweeting an academic study suggesting nonviolent protests may be more politically effective than violent ones!

Now, this madness is coming for journalism. Beginning on Friday, June 5th, a series of controversies rocked the media. By my count, at least eight news organizations dealt with internal uprisings (it was likely more). Most involved groups of reporters and staffers demanding the firing or reprimand of colleagues who’d made politically “problematic” editorial or social media decisions.

…

In the most discussed incident, Times editorial page editor James Bennet was ousted for green-lighting an anti-protest editorial by Arkansas Republican Senator Tom Cotton entitled, “Send in the troops.”

I’m no fan of Cotton, but as was the case with Michael Moore’s documentary and many other controversial speech episodes, it’s not clear that many of the people angriest about the piece in question even read it. In classic Times fashion, the paper has already scrubbed a mistake they made misreporting what their own editorial said, in an article about Bennet’s ouster.

…

As Cotton points out in the piece, he was advancing a view arguably held by a majority of the country. A Morning Consult poll showed 58% of Americans either strongly or somewhat supported the idea of “calling in the U.S. military to supplement city police forces.” That survey included 40% of self-described “liberals” and 37% of African-Americans. To declare a point of view held by that many people not only not worthy of discussion, but so toxic that publication of it without even necessarily agreeing requires dismissal, is a dramatic reversal for a newspaper that long cast itself as the national paper of record.

Incidentally, that same poll cited by Cotton showed that 73% of Americans described protecting property as “very important,” while an additional 16% considered it “somewhat important.” This means the Philadelphia Inquirer editor was fired for running a headline – “Buildings matter, too” – that the poll said expressed a view held by 89% of the population, including 64% of African-Americans.

…

The main thing accomplished by removing those types of editorials from newspapers — apart from scaring the hell out of editors — is to shield readers from knowledge of what a major segment of American society is thinking.

It also guarantees that opinion writers and editors alike will shape views to avoid upsetting colleagues, which means that instead of hearing what our differences are and how we might address those issues, newspaper readers will instead be presented with page after page of people professing to agree with one another. That’s not agitation, that’s misinformation.

The instinct to shield audiences from views or facts deemed politically uncomfortable has been in evidence since Trump became a national phenomenon. We saw it when reporters told audiences Hillary Clinton’s small crowds were a “wholly intentional” campaign decision. I listened to colleagues that summer of 2016 talk about ignoring poll results, or anecdotes about Hillary’s troubled campaign, on the grounds that doing otherwise might “help Trump” (or, worse, be perceived that way).

…

All these episodes sent a signal to everyone in a business already shedding jobs at an extraordinary rate that failure to toe certain editorial lines can and will result in the loss of your job. Perhaps additionally, you could face a public shaming campaign in which you will be denounced as a racist and rendered unemployable.

…

Even people who try to keep up with protest goals find themselves denounced the moment they fail to submit to some new tenet of ever-evolving doctrine, via a surprisingly consistent stream of retorts: fuck you, shut up, send money, do better, check yourself, I’m tired and racist.

…

Each passing day sees more scenes that recall something closer to cult religion than politics. White protesters in Floyd’s Houston hometown kneeling and praying to black residents for “forgiveness… for years and years of racism” are one thing, but what are we to make of white police in Cary, North Carolina, kneeling and washing the feet of Black pastors? What about Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer kneeling while dressed in “African kente cloth scarves”?

There is symbolism here that goes beyond frustration with police or even with racism: these are orgiastic, quasi-religious, and most of all, deeply weird scenes, and the press is too paralyzed to wonder at it. In a business where the first job requirement was once the willingness to ask tough questions, we’ve become afraid to ask obvious ones.

On CNN, Minneapolis City Council President Lisa Bender was asked a hypothetical question about a future without police: “What if in the middle of the night, my home is broken into? Who do I call?” When Bender, who is white, answered, “I know that comes from a place of privilege,” questions popped to mind. Does privilege mean one should let someone break into one’s home, or that one shouldn’t ask that hypothetical question? (I was genuinely confused). In any other situation, a media person pounces on a provocative response to dig out its meaning, but an increasingly long list of words and topics are deemed too dangerous to discuss.

The media in the last four years has devolved into a succession of moral manias. We are told the Most Important Thing Ever is happening for days or weeks at a time, until subjects are abruptly dropped and forgotten, but the tone of warlike emergency remains: from James Comey’s firing, to the deification of Robert Mueller, to the Brett Kavanaugh nomination, to the democracy-imperiling threat to intelligence “whistleblowers,” all those interminable months of Ukrainegate hearings (while Covid-19 advanced), to fury at the death wish of lockdown violators, to the sudden reversal on that same issue, etc.

It’s been learned in these episodes we may freely misreport reality, so long as the political goal is righteous. It was okay to publish the now-discredited Steele dossier, because Trump is scum. MSNBC could put Michael Avenatti on live TV to air a gang rape allegation without vetting, because who cared about Brett Kavanaugh – except press airing of that wild story ended up being a crucial factor in convincing key swing voter Maine Senator Susan Collins the anti-Kavanaugh campaign was a political hit job (the allegation illustrated, “why the presumption of innocence is so important,” she said). Reporters who were anxious to prevent Kavanaugh’s appointment, in other words, ended up helping it happen through overzealousness.

…

The traditional view of the press was never based on some contrived, mathematical notion of “balance,” i.e. five paragraphs of Republicans for every five paragraphs of Democrats. The ideal instead was that we showed you everything we could see, good and bad, ugly and not, trusting that a better-informed public would make better decisions. This vision of media stressed accuracy, truth, and trust in the reader’s judgment as the routes to positive social change.

For all our infamous failings, journalists once had some toughness to them. We were supposed to be willing to go to jail for sources we might not even like, and fly off to war zones or disaster areas without question when editors asked. It was also once considered a virtue to flout the disapproval of colleagues to fight for stories we believed in (Watergate, for instance).

Today no one with a salary will stand up for colleagues like Lee Fang. Our brave truth-tellers make great shows of shaking fists at our parody president, but not one of them will talk honestly about the fear running through their own newsrooms. People depend on us to tell them what we see, not what we think. What good are we if we’re afraid to do it?

#matt taibbi #journalism in action #new progressive orthodoxy #unofficial official religion #great awokening #purging the heretics and unbelievers #freeze peach is not just an ice cream flavor

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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1015.

5k Survey LXIX

3501. Is 'no glove, no love' your STRICT policy? >> I don’t have policies for activities I don’t participate in in the first place.

3502. What is the best Epic movie (examples of epics: ben-her, gone with the wind, last temptation of christ)? >> I don’t know what else falls into the category of “epic movie”, so... can’t really answer. 3503. Finish the sentance. Hey, Hey we're the: Monkees People say we: But we're too busy: The time to hesitate is: now You're too: physical It's a nice day to: start again 3504. Have you ever had 'missing time'? >> Only in the context of being intoxicated (and that one botched suicide attempt). 3505. Have you ever sent an electronic greeting? >> Maybe a long time ago.

3506. If you could send anonymous tips to people you knew who would never ever find out who sent them who would you send the following tips to? doesn't know when to leave: poor crotch hygenie: talks to much: band/art/dream is going nowehere: most likely to get arrestted: needs to get their life together: bad taste in clothes: bad taste in music: needs a hobby: 3507. Are you more likely to download porn or disney movies? >> I don’t download much of anything, really. Streaming has become my default mode of consumption. 3508. What is it with people? >> ??? 3509. Do you eat too much sugar? >> I can assure you that I do not. 3510 Imagine you have aband. Let's name your band. Adjective: Animal(plural): Your band name is (adjective) (animals) Under Glass! Could be better? Let's try again. Adjective: Noun (plural): Your band is (adjective) (nouns) With Puppets 3511. Are you desperate but not serious? >> I have no idea what this means. 3512. Was there a time when you were younger and it took less to get you excited? What did it take then? What does it take now? >> Honestly, I have no recollection of excitement experiences as a child. I do know that excitement is difficult for me nowadays because 1) I’m still pretty emotionally blunted, particularly for positive emotions and 2) I automatically attribute all physical feelings that could suggest excitement to anxiety instead (because I’m still learning the difference). 3513. Remember learning to write in elementary school? We spend 2 years learning to print..then they throw that out the window and teach kids cursive. Why? If cursive is so important and easy to read then why aren't books printed in cursive? Why aren't cursive computer fonts more popular? Why do buisness forms always say 'please print'? Schools are so preoccupied with teaching kids the complicated but traditional skill of cursive writing that more emphasis is put on that than on teaching kids how to clearly express their ideas through writing. I move that cursive writing become a jr. high school elective instead of a grammer school priority. Who's with me? >> This seems like a personal rant based on your own experiences and I have no dog in this fight, dude. I think of penmanship like art -- script writing is an art form and being adept at it can lead to some pretty results. Just don’t use it if you don’t care for it. Also, I’m pretty sure very few (public) schools care about cursive writing in this era, lmao, so this is also an outdated rant. 3514. Can you think of anything else (besides cursive writing) that is unhelpful, or unuseful, yet traditional and unquestioned? What? >> Whatever. 3515. Name one female celebrity who you would guess wears size ___ clothing: 0? 5? 12? 16? 20? 3516. Have you ever been to a place where the restrooms were named in a clever way rather than just saying men's and woman's? I've seen Hens and Roosters, Bart and Lisa, Dudes and Babes...what have you seen? >> Yeah, I saw “Pirates” and “Wenches” once. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen others but I can’t remember what they were now. 3517. What is the 'message' or 'point behind': Fight Club? Donnie Darko? AI? Minority Report? Solaris? A Walk to Remember? You've Got Mail? 3518. have you seen, and what are your thoughts about these movies: Drumline? >> Now this is a question block I can actually answer. I did see Drumline, but I was 13 at the time so I have no real recollection of my feelings about it. The Hot Chick? >> Nope. Maid in Manhattan? >> Nope. Star Trek: Nemesis? >> Nope. About Schmidt? >> Nope. Okay, maybe I can’t answer this question block after all. What are most of these movies...? Evelyn? >> --- The Guys? >> --- Intacto? >> --- The Jimmy Show? >> ---

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers? >> I did see this, but I don’t remember much of it either because it was at least half a decade ago. I do assume I enjoyed it. Gangs of New York? >> --- Two Weeks Notice? >> --- The Wild Thornberrys Movie? >> --- Smokers Only? >> --- Treasure Planet? >> --- The Santa Clause 2? >> --- 3519. START this sentance: ....and I think to myself, what a wonderful world." >> ---

3520. What is: insanity? normal? farenheit? 3521. Tell us about yourself in the third person for a bit: >> I’d really rather not attempt that. 3522. If someone breaks a law, should they be punished if they did not know it was a law? >> Oh, I don’t know. This is a concept that can get real thorny real fast. 3523. If it's so much easier to learn languages when we are very young (and it is, something to do with the developing brain) why do they wait until jr high and high school to teach them? >> I don’t know anything about the justifications behind public-school curricula, dude. 3524. Name a band you sort of like: Dream Theater. You are wearing that band's t-shirt in a store. SUDDENLY some guy you don't know comes up to you and goes, "Hey! You like (insert name of the band here)??!!" This is obviously a really stupid question because if you didn't like them you wouldn't be wearing the t-shirt. Your witty reply is: >> It’s not a really stupid question, first of all, because it’s a conversation starter as opposed to a straightforward inquiry. I’d assume he’s excited that someone else seems to be a fan of a band he likes, and is opening the floor to talking about it. Which is great! Let’s talk about prog metal! Now, on the other hand, if the tone of “hey, you like Dream Theater?” is skeptical, like he’s assuming I’m just blithely wearing the shirt without actually liking the band or whatever, then I’d probably just give him a simple “yep” and see what happened after that. I’m not going to immediately be sarcastic or “witty” until I am positive about what kind of interaction is happening. 3525. If you were organizing cd's in a music store what section would you put each of the following in (don't forget the 'bargain bin' section!): Blink182 Depech Mode Weezer Led Zeppelin The Doors Avril Lavigne Nelly Manfred Mann Iggy Pop Pink Floyd Guns N Roses Shakira Britny Spears Tool Ozzy Osbourne Madonna The Rolling Stones The Beatles Motley Crue Bon Jovi 3526. Does coffee stimulate your mind or body more? >> It stimulates my anxiety drive, is what it does. 3527. Can you do 'six degrees of seperation' to anyone famous? >> I assume not. 3528. What's the oddest thing in your home? >> Me. 3529. Do you find it odd when people who are not handicapped use the handicapped stall: in the bathroom? >> No, I’ve used it because the close quarters of the other stalls wig me out sometimes. Or I’ve used it because the other ones were disaster zones. Or I’ve used it because I was also getting changed in the stall, or something, and needed the room. in the parking lot? >> You need a whole placard (or handicapped license plate) for those, so there are obvious rules. 3530. Do you sometimes find yourself talking to yourself? Do you answer yourself back? >> No, I talk to the Inworlders, not “myself”. 3531. In your head do you call yourself 'I' or 'you' or both? >> Er... “I”? 3532. What is the best excuse for why you haven't done your homework? >> --- 3533. Someone tells you 'well there are black people, and then there are n*ggers'. What do you think? >> I think that person’s an out-and-out bona-fide bigot, obviously? What the fuck else am I going to think (besides “I have to leave immediately”)??? 3534. Does culture shape behavior or does behavior shape culture? >> Yes. 3535. What determines whether a person will be: intelligent? pretty? happy? sucessful? 3536. What is social loafing? What is groupthink? >> ??? 3537. I have an idea. let's change the english language by making the words fewer, shorter and more concise. What do ya think? >> No. 3538. What are the physical symptoms of: joy? fear? shame? 3539. Here's the scenerio...your little eight year old brother is hangin out in the house when you come in..and catch him watching the playboy channel! What do you do/say? He says, "Why can't I watch this?" What is your response? Why do you respond that way? >> I don’t have an eight-year-old brother and I don’t know anything about how I would respond in a sibling-dynamic situation because I’ve never been in one. 3540. Who REALLY has a higher sex drive, girls or guys? How can you tell? >> --- 3541. are you usually carefree? >> No. 3542. Do you generally prefer reading to meeting people? >> This is an odd comparison to make. 3543. Do you often long for excitement? >> No. 3544. Are you mostly quiet when you are with others? >> It depends on what kind of situation I’m in and what kind of day I’m having. And who the others are. And where we are. Context, people. Details. Please. 3545. Do you often do things spur of the moment? >> No. 3546. Are you slow an unhurried in the way you move? >> Sometimes. If I’m doing something I hate or that triggers me, then I tend to be a lot more hurried. 3547. Would you do almost anything for a dare? >> I wouldn’t do anything on a dare. 3548. Do you hate being in a crowd who plays jokes on one another? >> Er... 3549. Do you enjoy wild parties? >> No. 3550. Have you ever paid for something priced more than $5.00 in only change? >> No, but I was with someone that did. We had to scrounge for change in her car so we could buy enough gas to get us the rest of the way home, lol.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey #not for reblogging *glare*

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #271

“some of those who work forces are the same that burn crosses.”

Do you cook on the stove at all, or just microwave? I just use the microwave. I'm scared of the stove lmao. Do you ever debate religion with your friends? Bruuuh no. I am so disinterested in debating about something that to me ultimately doesn't matter yet humanity has made so serious. Whatever happens after we die, happens, there's that. Just be a decent human being and go out knowing you did your best to make the world better than when you entered it. Do you keep your shampoo in the shower or someplace else? In the shower. Something your mother said or did that shocked you: Like... recently? Or in my entire life? I dunno about recently, but I guess the most shocking to me was when she vehemently called my sister something I won't repeat. Did your mom go to college? She was before the cancer. Ready to graduate, too, but that didn't go as planned thanks to, y'know, cancer. Which food do you think you have the most cans of in your cupboard? Good question, no clue. I don't really pay attention to the canned foods. Maybe fruits? Do you save fortunes from fortune cookies? No. Are you offended when Christmas is spelled Xmas? Nah. Where do you put your keys when you come home? In my purse. Describe your favorite mug or glass to drink from? I don't have one. That I use, anyway. Sara gave me a Markiplier quote one that's a Holy Item on my shelf and instead of holding a beverage holds All My Love. Your bad habit that you love the most: UGH I hate how much I love soda. Invent a pop tart flavor: STORY TIME!!!! As a kid, there was this contest to design a type and you won like... a fucking huge supply of the newest flavor, which was at the time that wild berry whatever thing. My sister and I made one that I think I recall being pink with heart sprinkles and strawberry flavored, and we won. Guess who fucking hates the wild berry flavor now lmao. Okay but anyway if I was to invent one now... is there a BLUE raspberry flavor? Cuz a bitch loves blue raspberry flavored everything. Do you name your pets after tv/movie/book characters: Sometimes. I don't currently have a pet that is, though. Are you proud of yourself for what you've accomplished? The few things I actually have, sure? I'm more ashamed of what I haven't. Do you own any sexy lingerie? Nooooo no one would want to see me in that, least of all myself lmao. Have you ever caught a bouquet of flowers at a wedding before? No. Has a horse ever neighed at you before? Uhhh I don't think so? Do you prefer ice cream or sorbet? Ice cream. Have you gotten your pets spayed? My cat is. That's like... the only pet we ever have fixed, sadly. My parents/Mom (depending on time period) could just never afford it. The only real reason we managed to get Roman neutered was because our sister directed us to a cheap on-the-go business where it was like... only $45, and Roman was marking the house badly so it was pretty urgent. Would you ever take in a stray animal? HA, that is the STORY of my family with cats. At this current time, most likely not. We don't need another pet right now, nevermind one of a mysterious background with my mom being sick. When is payday? N/A Have you ever walked on a runway before? No. How long is your workday? N/A Is there a walkway or a pathway to your front door? No. What is your favorite color? What is your least favorite color? Pink is superior to all colors. I'm really not a puke-green fan, but I mean... is anyone? What color dominates your wardrobe? Everything is B L A C K. What color are your eyes? Grayish blue. Are you colorblind, or do you know anyone who is? I'm not, but Jason's brother is colorblind to I think red and blue? Do you prefer color photos or black-and white? It greatly depends on the composition and subject matter of the photograph. I find great beauty in both. If I had to pick though, color usually appeals to me more. Are you one of those people who can taste, feel, or smell colors? No. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? Yes. Do you enjoy coloring? It tends to be my least-favorite part of the art process because that's where I always fuck shit up. Do you know anyone who is racist? Oh my, PLENTY. Welcome to the South. Are your nails painted any color(s) right now? They never are. Can you lift more than 100lbs? I probably CAN, but it would be very hard. What's your opinion on incest? It's fucking repulsive. Morally and negative from a scientific standpoint, anyway. Do you have a favorite color for cats? Orange. What video games did you play when you were younger? I was a massive gamer as a kid, teenager too, so I could put a hell of a lot here. But, I'll just imagine you're referring to when I was quite young. The Spyro games (save for Skylanders) were my LIFE, I loved Nintendogs, the Crash Bandicoot trilogy, lots of games that were based on movies (like Madagascar and Finding Nemo are two I really enjoyed), uhhh... OH! And absolutely weird, but I loved hunting games. Like, I had a whooole lot, despite hating real life hunting even as a child. I think it was because I got to see wild animals, plus it could be calming to wander and scary, too, when things like wolves found you. Oh, and then there were fishing games, too. LOOK I just love(d) games. Would you ever get a tramp stamp? I hate that nickname. Having a tattoo literally anywhere does not equate you to a stereotype. Yes, because I want to be heavily tattooed anyway. Did you cry when Michael Jackson died? No. Not that I didn't care at all, I just wasn't a giant fan. What's the ugliest species of animal? Lmao how mean. The blobfish immediately comes to mind, though. Looks like a ball of mucus shaped into an old man's face. Are you embarrassed about any songs on your iPod? I used to be, now it's just like whatever. I like what I like. What do you use to listen to music on the computer? YouTube. Do people know a lot about you? Places on the Internet sure do lmao. I try to be much more private now online to a degree, depending on where. Irl, no. I'm too easily embarrassed/afraid of being judged for what makes me, me. Who was the last person you slept beside? Sara. Do you like Metallica? They're one of my all-time favorites and I trust NOBODY who claims to hate them. What's your favorite kind of soup? I'm not a fan of soup. What’s your best friend's favorite band? Her all-time favorite is Pink Floyd. Who was the last person you took a picture with? Ummm idr. Do you play Guitar Hero? Not really anymore, but I fuckin slayed that shit back in the day. Whose house did you last visit? My older sister's. Who was the last person to come to your house? My younger sister. What time do you usually eat dinner? Anywhere between 5:30 to like... 7:00 or so. Have you ever searched your own house on Google Earth? Not this current one, no. Does it bother you when people have a loose grip on hugs? No? Some people don't like hugs. Are you looking forward to next year? I don't know. Is covid gonna be history by then? It depends on a lot of things. What have you done so far this summer? *blink blink blink* What's your favorite punk band? Honestly, I don't even really separate bands by genres now because I don't know. There's so so many, plenty overlap, etc. etc, and people - especially those who enjoy rock/metal stuff, I've found - get all snobbish and "WELL ACTUALLY" when you "misgenre" or whatever. Which is better: cold or hot weather? COLD. FUCK hot weather. Anything above ~75*F is disgusting. Is photography something you enjoy? I'm an aspiring photographer so like- What’s the best flavor snow cone? I haven't had a legit snow cone in years... but we have a place called Pelican's Snowballs, which is really just like... snow cones in a cup? They are A M A Z I N G and strawberry is to die for. When driving, are you a speed demon or do you drive like your grandmother? I don't drive because I'm terrified to. Have you ever met someone who just had you at hello? No. Bet you were expecting "Jason," but no, I was weirded out that a stranger just comes up to me in the hall on the way to class and starts talking to me. Have you ever written poetry? Yeah. Do you have any addictions? Technology, ugh. And soda, rip. When was the last time you just laid and looked at the stars? Laid, many years ago one summer when Jason and I were just lying on the trampoline while my dad was grilling. What song reminds you of an ex? A lot. What color eyeliner do you prefer? Black. What was the last thing that you made with your own two hands? Like, made from scratch? Hell if I know. What’s the deepest water you will wade into? Like, shoulder-deep in the ocean. How many blades does your razor have? Three, I think? Highest grade of education you’ve completed? Just one semester of college. Lowest grade you’ve received on a test? Yikes, Fs in college math. He taught in such an abstract way that I failed like... every test, or nearly did. I was too afraid to ask questions continuously. Do you enjoy sitting in the sun or the shade more? There is NO situation where I would rather be in the sun. Do you enjoy going to arcades? Hell yeah. What parades do you like to go to? None. When’s the last time you went on a tirade? I ranted to Mom about the fucking ridiculous anti-maskers that are a big reason this motherfucking pandemic is worsening in America. With my mom being immunocompromised, it is something I take VERY goddamn seriously. It's not a difference in opinion - it's a difference in morality. Do you like to play charades? I loved to as a kid. Now it'd feel weird. Would you ever lead a crusade? I wouldn't want to lead anything. Have your parents ever forbade you from doing something? Aha, so as a kid, I had a game demo disc that showed the preview to Parasite Eve, and my sisters and I would secretly watch it despite it scaring us to where Mom did forbid us to click on it. And all these years later, I've played it and love it... ha ha. Otherwise, my parents have always been pretty open to letting us do stuff, save for things the usual parent doesn't like, like swearing. When’s the last time someone said something degrading to you? A few days back when I got into an argument on Facebook about some asshole teasing their newly-hatched cobra to where it kept striking at the tongs, hood flared and all. Apparently I had no idea what I was talking about, pointing out the snake was clearly stressed out. What’s the last homemade dish you’ve made? I legit haven't cooked a thing since Sara was here and I made her eggs for breakfast. Which was like, a year ago. Do you like lemonade? What flavor(s)? Broooo YES. Pink lemonade is better, but I enjoy just the classic kind, too. Has anyone ever serenaded you before? Fuck this question. Would you like to visit the Everglades? Lemme see them motherfuckin GATORS. Have you ever attended a masquerade ball before? No. Would be dope, though. Have you lost anyone to AIDS? No, thank god. Have you ever been paid for sex? Hell no. Have you ever had a maid in your home before? HUNNY we are too poor for that shit. Do you know how to do different types of braids in hair? No. When’s the last time you wore a Band-aid? Where and why? I have no clue. When was the last time you were afraid? Of what? A family friend was over here a couple days ago and she had this weirdest muscle cramp in her leg that brought her to the floor gasping for like over a minute. I was super scared, and Mom was too, as we had no idea what to do. I almost had to call 911. Crazy woman hasn't gone to the doctor about it, to my knowledge. Would you ever consider growing your hair out to your waist, or longer? NOOOO NO NO. I am probably having short hair for the rest of my life. Is there anywhere in your house that you're scared to be alone in? No. What is your favorite shoe brand? I don't have one. What weird things did you do as a small child? I was just a weird kid in general. I did a lotta stuff that would make people raise a brow. Who puts the most pressure on you in your life? My goddamn self. Do you laugh off embarrassing moments? Hell no, I turn red as a cherry and probably cry once I'm in private. Do you have a favourite actor/actress? If so, who? No. Do you like little kids, or do they annoy you? I feel uncomfortable around them. They're too brutally honest, I feel like every move I make is wrong, and I just generally feel incapable of handling them properly. Do you want a small or a large family when you get older? Well, I don't want any kids, so... Are you a good dancer? If not, do you enjoy dancing anyways? No and no. I'd be embarrassed. Have you ever lied to avoid getting into trouble? Yeah. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital for a long period of time? I'd say two weeks is pretty long, and I was supposed to stay an entire month. I only got out of that by going to court. Do you take a lot of pictures of yourself, or are you camera shy? I HATE being in front of the camera. What are your choice of toppings on a hamburger? And do you prefer gas or charcoal grilling? I just like ketchup, mustard, and pickles, really. A bit of diced onion is fine, too. I prefer gas; I hate the charcoal-y taste. You are chosen to have lunch with the president. the condition is you only get to ask one question. What do you ask? Fuck that, I'd decline going to begin with. What is your concession stand must-have at the movies? Popcorn, of course. Which do you dislike most: pop-up ads or spam email? Pop-up ads. How long was it from ‘the first date’ until the proposal of marriage? How long until the wedding? N/A What topic can put you to sleep quicker than any other? Probably like, wrestling. Golf. Sports in general. How many times did it take you to pass your drivers test? I haven't tried it yet. If you had to have the same topping on your vanilla ice cream for the rest of your life, what topping would you choose? I always just use chocolate syrup. Would you rather be trapped in an elevator, or stuck in traffic? CHRIST, TRAFFIC. Elevators kinda scare me and I'm very scared of being stuck in one. What are you sitting on right now? My bed. Are you listening to anything? Halocene's cover of "Killing In The Name." Have you parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No. Who was the last person to give you money? I have no idea. Have you ever dreamed of someone you barely know? Actually yeah. Weird as hell. When was the most recent time, if ever, that you felt “impostor syndrome,” or that you felt unqualified to be somewhere? Hm. I suppose when I went to the doctor by myself for my foot. I'd never done an appointment without Mom at all, and I was veeery clueless to a lot of steps, questions, etc. What are some ways that pop culture has helped you learn historic or scientific facts? Some TV shows, I guess. Or games, even. Have you ever had a job in which you felt that you had nothing to do? What was the protocol in that situation (e.g., surfing the web, taking on the job of co-workers, or pretending to work)? If you have not, do you think it would be lucky or unlucky to have such a job? No. I was expected to always be doing something. I'd consider that to be pretty unlucky, as it sounds boring and pointless. Have you ever intimidated or made another person feel legitimately threatened? If not, do you think that you could ever be seen as scary? I don't know. Mom has admitted me yelling has scared her before, though. I can yell pretty fucking loudly. But she herself never felt threatened. And do I think I could be seen as scary? Yes. Especially given my chronic fucking nightmares that almost always involve confrontation. In what ways do you or would you need to be validated by a partner? (For example, liking your posts/talking about you on social media, or perhaps by doting on you with gifts.) I am VERY much a "words of affirmation" person. I NEED reassurance that I'm adequate and sincerely loved. When you are having a hard time emotionally, what are some of the telltale ways that you act out or that your personality reflects your struggles? I become very snappy and more reclusive than usual. I cry really easily. Do you tend to succeed by weaning yourself off of something or by quitting cold turkey? It depends on what it is, but I've generally needed to wean myself off of things when necessary. Is there a specific type of pet breed/size/etc. that you don’t want? Why not? I am very turned off by animal breeds/types that are subject to serious health issues, such as pugs, dachsunds, Persians, spider ball pythons... Just don't fucking breed them. Ironically, some of these are the cutest, but I care far more about the health of the animal. Have you ever lived in a notoriously dangerous area? If not, would it bother you to do so? Yes and yes. Has a friend’s significant other ever interfered with or damaged your friendship? What about a significant other of yours damaging a friendship? I don't believe so, no. What, if anything, is something that you put pressure on yourself about? What do you imagine would happen if you did not live up to this expectation? Getting a job, for Heaven's sake, and actually managing to keep it. I've proven inept in this area so far, so, I've already failed that. :^) If you have been in a serious relationship, have you and your partner ever discussed lifetime plans that clashed? Did you reconcile them or did you break up? If you have not been in a relationship, what are some issues that would be deal-breakers? Jason and I kinda casually talked about kids early in our relationship, at which time I didn't see myself wanting them at all and he did at some point. It didn't really bother either of us, though; it was something we'd figure out if we actually got anywhere. Then he became the only person I could ever imagine myself having kids with. Life's funny.

#survey #quiz #questions

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musicoccurred · 6 years

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Pearl Jam -The Home Shows

Who: Pearl Jam Where: The Home Shows, Seattle, WA. When: August 8, 10 2018

I've said this before and it remains true. A Pearl Jam concert is much more than just a show. It's a celebration. A celebration of music, of a long relationship and of course, life. Very few places do I feel absolutely at home but a Pearl Jam show is one of them. Certainly we're all different people but for 3 hours we're one. These Seattle shows reminded me of a pilgrimage, I'm sure there were lots of Seattle folks there but most of the people I chatted with were from other places. For me it was a bucket-list item, to see Pearl Jam in their home city, a city that gave us so much music and so many iconic bands.

These concerts, "The Home Shows," given that name because the tour takes place mainly in MLB stadiums, had a similar feel to PJ20 the 20th anniversary shows in Alpine Valley, Wisconsin in 2011. No, there weren't multiple bands on the bill, but there were multiple activities and certainly a festive vibe. The Seattle Museum of Pop Culture, aka MoPop, had an exhibit dedicated to Pearl Jam opening on the Saturday after the shows but 10c (Ten Club, Pearl Jam's fanclub) members could gain access on Thursday during the day off between shows. London Bridge Studios where Ten was recorded also had Pearl Jam specific tours and legendary concert photographer Danny Clinch had a pop up shop with photos available for autograph and purchase. Did I mention it all took place in Seattle? Not only a great city but a city full of Pearl Jam history, we're talking The Off Ramp, Moore Theater, Benaroya Hall, Showbox, Easy Street Records, the list goes on!

Wednesday, Night 1

It has become popular again for bands to have artists make posters for concerts, particularly individual posters for each show. Pearl Jam is one of the few that's always done this. It is an expensive habit and the posters are treated as currency among 10c members. For these shows there were 5 unique posters all by artists Pearl Jam has used extensively in the past. A point of contention here, at their larger shows, the band has started setting up tents to sell merch throughout the day and even on days before and after the shows. Because they are open to the public, it's safe to say there are people there buying and going straight to eBay. The lines took many hours to navigate, there has to be a better way. How about when a 10c member buys a ticket through the band's website we get a code unique to us that allows us to purchase merch online and have it shipped to our homes? Place whatever quantity limits you want, something needs to change. A highlight of waiting around in the sun all day, I met a cool young man that had traveled from Tokyo to attend his first Pearl Jam show. There were people coming to Seattle from all over the world, this guy was in for a night he won't soon forget.

Several years ago Pearl Jam shows began lasting +- 3 hours. They always played a lot of songs but when this happened they finally shed the opening act. No complaints here. At 8:30 straight up the band took the stage to a loop of "Aye Davanita" from Vitalogy and ease into "Long Road." Now PJ's MO is that they play a quiet track or two then something noisy. Not on this night, Eddie wanted it to be an intimate gathering so "Long Road" led to "Release" followed by "Low Light" and crowd favorite, the singalong "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town." Genius. How do you transition from slow and quiet into something noisy? "Corduroy" that's how. Even though it's a song that PJ play pretty much every show it remains a favorite for me. Its long intro whips the crowd into a frenzy that continued with "Go," "Do the Evolution" and the Ramones-esque "Mind Your Manners." Each setlist is crafted by Ed with input from the band to fit the venue, audience and history of the band/city. Probably the most notable moment of the show was when Eddie broke down the meaning of "Evenflow." "Evenflow" is a concert staple, performed pretty much every time they play. In the 90s it was the song people liked when they didn't like PJ. Fast drums and guitars, weird lyrics just a fun rock song. But on this night, after the band had worked hard with politicians and local businesses to raise money and awareness for Seattle's horrible homeless problems Ed opened up a bit. When the band had just formed they spent a lot of time in the Belltown/Pioneer Square areas of Seattle. They befriended another Eddie, this one a homeless African-American Vietnam Veteran with mental health problems. He was known for his wild hair and wearing a tarp like a poncho. When he was mentally present he would tell them about Vietnam and his struggles with returning to civilian life. Other times, he simply wasn't there mentally. His visits greatly affected the band and when they came back from a tour they couldn't find him. Searching all over Seattle they finally found him sleeping on concrete under a viaduct. Returning from a later tour they again couldn't find him and discovered he had passed away. Suddenly "Evenflow" makes perfect sense, Ed held on to that story for 28 years. Other highlights, Ed performed a solo rendition of Jack White's "We're Going to be Friends" in honor of teachers everywhere. During the performance, his daughters danced with their favorite teachers (clad in Mariners jerseys with Vedder on the back) behind him. During the encore Brandi Carlile joined the band for "Again Tonight" a song PJ had covered for a benefit album. I love when other musicians join Pearl Jam on stage and look out at the giant crowd with wide eyes, Brandi ever the badass, threw her head back and screamed into the Seattle sky. They closed the show with "Rockin' in the Free World" and my least favorite live song, "Yellow Ledbetter" the show clocked in at 33 songs over 3 hours.

Thursday, Day Off

I snoozed on the London Bridge Studios tickets so that was out. I was looking forward to roaming around the city and attending the Pearl Jam exhibit at MoPop. Situated near the Space Needle and the Experience Music Project, MoPop is covered in tourists. Lucky for us this was a 10c event only. Jeff Ament is the de facto historian of the band keeping massive amounts of memorabilia in a warehouse. This band kept everything. I mean EVERYTHING. They have the cassettes that Stone/Jeff and Ed mailed back and forth to begin their relationship. Seeing these in person was powerful. Pearl Jam have provided the soundtrack to my life and quite literally if those tapes didn't exist I wouldn't have been standing there all those years later. Favorite moments: seeing the typed and written lyrics and loads of Ed's notebooks, the incredible statue of Andy Wood that Jeff commissioned (more on that here) as well as posters from every show. If you're in Seattle I highly recommend seeing this exhibit.

Friday, Night 2

Again starting at 8:30 PJ opens with three slow burners, "Oceans," "Footsteps" and "Nothingman" before blasting off with "Why Go" and "Brain of J." This was going to be awesome. I love the 2nd PJ shows, all of my needs are met by the first night. Nervousness is gone, just relax and enjoy the show. This show really focused on older material, only two tracks were post 2000. The band were much looser as was the crowd. The singalongs were louder and sharper, I refrained, choosing instead to just absorb the love and energy flying around the stadium. During "I Won't Back Down," a solo tribute to the great Tom Petty, Eddie asked the crowd to turn on their cell phone flashlights so Tom could see. The result was mesmerizing. The band also honored Chris Cornell by performing "Missing," a very rare deep cut. Speaking of Cornell, Kim Thayil joined the band for "Kick Out the Jams" and later joined Steve Turner and Mark Arm of Mudhoney (and Green River!) for "Search and Destroy" and "Sonic Reducer." Favorite moments: the aforementioned songs plus Ed hosing up the intro to "Rearviewmirror" to the point the band had to stop. Ed broke into "Fernando" by Abba saying that's what he was hearing. What can I say, the guy is hilarious. Other notable moments, Mike's solo on "Evenflow" was one of the best I can remember. What a beautiful night. 36 amazing songs over 3.5 hours in the glorious Seattle night.

Setlist Night 1:

Long Road Release Low Light Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town Corduroy Go Do the Evolution Mind Your Manners Throw Your Hatred Down (Neil Young cover) Lightning Bolt Given to Fly All Those Yesterdays Even Flow Help! (The Beatles cover) (snippet) Help Help Black Setting Forth Play Video I Am a Patriot (Little Steven cover) Porch Encore: We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes cover) (live debut by PJ) Nothing as It Seems Let Me Sleep Breath Again Today (with Brandi Carlile) State of Love and Trust Rearviewmirror Encore 2: Wasted Reprise Better Man (with “Save It for Later” tag) Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd cover) Alive I've Got a Feeling (The Beatles cover) Rockin' in the Free World (Neil Young cover) Yellow Ledbetter

Setlist Night 2:

Oceans Footsteps Nothingman Why Go Brain of J. Interstellar Overdrive (Pink Floyd cover) Corduroy Rats In Hiding Whipping Even Flow Missing (Chris Cornell cover) (live debut by PJ) Daughter (with "W.M.A" and "It's Ok" tags) Immortality I'm Open Unthought Known Can't Deny Me Do the Evolution Lukin Porch Encore: I Won't Back Down (Tom Petty cover) (EV solo) Thin Air Better Man (with "Save It for Later" by English Beat tag) All or None Crown of Thorns (Mother Love Bone cover) Kick Out the Jams (MC5 cover) (with Kim Thayil) Spin the Black Circle Play Video Rearviewmirror (with "Fernando" (ABBA)… more ) Crazy Mary (Victoria Williams cover) Jeremy Leash Search and Destroy (Iggy and The Stooges cover) (With Kim Thayil, Steve Turner, and Mark Arm) Sonic Reducer (Dead Boys cover) (With Kim Thayil, Steve Turner, and Mark Arm) Alive Baba O'Riley (The Who cover) Yellow Ledbetter

-JS

#concert #Pearl Jam #musicoccurred

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lykezoinks · 7 years

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[ a/n: alright, this is my last entry for @klangst-week. thanks everybody for all the likes and reblogs! it keeps me writing, and it’s just nice to see people enjoying what i’m putting out! also, the works everyone’s created have just been amazing, so keep it up, y’all! ]

title: impulse control words: 3,547 prompt: secrets/betrayal rating/genre: T for language, modern au, college au, angst & hurt/comfort with a tinge of humor trigger warning(s): mental illness (implied depression and anxiety), depersonalization, mentions of injury (bruises and blood) extra notes: keith and shiro are adoptive brothers (it’s mentioned very briefly), klance is established

Yes, he works in the most hipster coffee shop within a twenty mile radius of campus. And yes, he loves it. Sure, The Underground sounds more like a sketchy bar you’d find in an alleyway that may or may not host fight clubs every other night, and yeah, it kinda smells like pencil shavings even after he mops the floors three times at opening, but at least it has character. Most people would roll their eyes at the always pretentious shop-goer in their thrift store clothing and knit hats, but Lance can’t help but find them interesting. Not that it surprises anyone.

Lance became famous around campus after only one year of being a— totally amazing, if he may say so himself— residence hall assistant. Almost anyone who lived in Levine Hall found a friend in Lance McClain. Eager to please and even more eager to befriend, it’s no secret that he falls in love with almost every social interaction he can muster up.

So he really doesn’t mind if a customer wants to discuss their latest film project, and he’s always happy to adhere to any non-dairy milk preference. Though he doesn’t have a septum ring to match his coworkers’ and he’s a bit too smiley for the spoken poetry nights they host on the stage in the back, that doesn’t stop anyone from placing a dollar in the tip jar after he compliments their tattoos or ends a pleasant conversation with a smile and a wink.

The night shift is easy enough to work. People stop entering the cafe sometime after ten, staying their welcome to study on the couches and leaving before closing. Lance’s manager insists Lance work the front while Floyd takes on the side work. So the remainder of Lance’s shift is spent leaning his elbow against the counter and letting his fingers fall one-by-one against his cheek. He tells leaving customers to enjoy the rest of their night as they leave behind a buzz of idle chatter and a ding of the door. Once the cafe clears out, all that’s left is the sounds of Floyd sweeping the floors and an acoustic song from some band that Lance thinks should have never left their basement.

“Am I free to go, bossman?” Lance asks, drumming his hands against the counter, wiggling his hips in time with the beat as his eyes dart between Floyd and the analog clock on the wall.

“You’re good to go,” Floyd nods, sliding Lance’s wallet across the countertop.

With a happy sigh, Lance punches a few buttons on the register, pulling the drawer out and placing it in the office in the back before clocking himself out and grabbing his keys from the hook. The second he does, his phone rings from its spot in his jacket pocket. Slipping it into his palm, he drags his thumb across the screen and cradles it between his ear and his shoulder. “Perfect timing! How’s it hangin’, Pidgeotto?”

“Lance! Hey, um…” The way Pidge says ‘Lance’, high pitched and cracking, tells him he’s about to get bad news. Before he can stop her, Pidge is already stringing together a plethora of subject changers that just seem ridiculous given that the two of them weren’t on a particular subject to begin with.

“Pidge,” Lance interrupts partway through some bullshit commentary having to do with the ‘crazy weather we’ve been having.’ Lance knows that no one has to explain climate change to Pidge, given its something she rants about at least twice a day. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah, okay… Um, we’re at Black Spot… And, uh— Hunk… Hunk, would you— No, grab him! Jesus… “

“What happened?” His sigh is heavy as he closes the door behind him after giving Floyd a curt wave, already headed toward his car. The Black Spot never means anything good, ever. Why his boyfriend so loves the town’s shadiest bar is beyond Lance; he doesn’t exactly find peeling paint and stained floor boards charming. And the muscled biker guys that do nothing but take up space at the bar to glower at the assorted whiskeys along the wall and ramble about their Navy days— or something like that— don’t exactly put Lance in the partying mood.

“Lotor happened.”

“Oh, God…” Lance drags a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

He doesn’t need context. Any instance in which Lance’s current boyfriend and Lance’s ex-boyfriend are in the same room usually results in disaster. And a night in the E.R. And, lo and behold, by some cruel twist of fate, these disasters are becoming more and more frequent in recent months. Lance is half convinced that they’re destined to kill each other, like Lotor is Tybalt and Keith is a far less flamboyant Mercutio. Lance refuses to be the Benvolio in this situation. “Just stay put. I’ll be there in a sec.”

A near collision and a half-assed parallel parking job later, Lance walks himself outside the bar, feeling exceptionally underdressed as the Winter weather dusts over his arms. He has to push himself through a crowd of people waiting to be let in by the bouncer before he sees a head of familiar wild hair. In her NASA sweatshirt and minimalist alien hat, Pidge looks like she belongs at a performance art showcase rather than a night out on the town, but Lance is too exhausted to comment on his friends’ poor fashion decisions. Even if that Hawaiian shirt is so not Hunk’s color.

Instead, his focus shifts onto his leather-clad boyfriend, and rather than point out the fact he looks like a Danny Zuko knock-off with a red beanie and black baby gauges in his ears, he steps forward with his arms crossed instead.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge sighs, sounding somewhat relieved. Hunk is a bit busy grabbing at Keith’s shoulder every time he tries to take a step toward the street. Handling a Drunk Keith is like— as Keith would say in True Texan Spirit— herding cats.

“Hey,” Lance says briskly, marching passed Pidge to strap a hand on the collar of Keith’s jacket. “Lemme see.”

Keith huffs and turns his head, looking utterly indifferent as Lance’s eyes widen.

“Shit, Keith…” He squints a little, scanning over his boyfriend’s busted lip and the fresh patch of bruises, purples, blues, and reds bleeding from underneath one eye, across the bridge of his nose, and all the way under his other eye.

“It’s not that bad,” Keith slurs, holding up a wavering hand.

“Not that—!” Lance has to close his eyes and suck in a breath through his nose, counting to ten just like Mama McClain taught him, before he can open his eyes again. But his glare doesn’t disappear.

“Sorry, man,” Hunk all but mewls beside him, rubbing at the back of his neck in a flustered fashion. “I tried to pull them off of each other as soon as I could.”

“It’s not your fault, big guy,” Lance assures, turning to his best friend with a soft smile before glaring right back at his boyfriend. “It’s yours.”

“Why is it that all of a sudden—” Keith starts, but Lance knows better than to let him divert Lance’s attention.

“There’s no way Lotor with his pretty boy hands was the only culprit. Who the hell were you picking a fight with this time?”

Keith chews at the inside of his cheek, opting to take out his pent up anger on the ground as he fixes it with a fiery glare.

Pidge steps in for him then, pushing her circle glasses further up her nose. “The usual suspects.”

“Great,” Lance grumbles, never breaking his staring contest with Keith’s profile. “So now you wanna take on Lotor and his frat buddies. All of whom are very rich… And can hire very. Good. Attorneys.”

“Lance.” Hunk sets a hand on Lance’s back, offering a sympathetic look that makes Lance’s hunched shoulders deflate. “I know you’re mad, but do you really wanna do this out here?”

It’s then that Lance realizes he’s making a scene, the crowd of people on the street gawking in their direction. And he also realizes that it’s making Keith antsy. That’s apparent in the way he starts shifting his shoulders in every which way and pales a little in the face.

“We’re the ones who let your boyfriend off his leash,” Pidge admits, saying “your boyfriend” like he’s now completely Lance’s responsibility. Saying it like she hasn’t been Keith’s best friend since the fifth grade.

Lance fishes his car keys from his back pocket, still trying to cool off from the anger burning something fierce in his chest. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night, okay? I’m gonna take Keith back to the apartment.”

“Are you sure? We can come with you,” Hunk offers, the concern never leaving his eyes for a moment.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. Besides, I thought I saw a familiar little curly girly named Shay head into that other bar a couple blocks from here.”

Hunk reddens just a little, but nods in agreement as Pidge makes some complaint about being a third wheel. In a mess of goodbyes and repeatedly reaching for Keith’s hand— his opposition to PDA is counterproductive given that he can’t walk by himself without stumbling— Lance finally gets the chance to unlock his car and slide into the driver’s seat. Keith flops down into the passenger’s seat next to him, pulling one leg up to rest his foot on the polyester as he plays absently with the laces on his high tops.

The drive home is silent, mostly because Lance can’t think of a decent lecture that won’t end in a two-way silent treatment, something that’s proven to be agonizing given they’re the only two living in a one-bedroom apartment. After Lance parks, helps Keith climb the stairs, and fumbles with the key in the lock, Keith finds a spot in their too small kitchen, sliding down the lower cabinets to sit cross-legged on the floor. Because apparently he’s a household pet.

Lance rifles through the freezer, snagging a bag of whatever’s packaged and frozen before all but chucking it onto one of Keith’s thighs. Keith seems to get the message, picking it up and hesitantly pressing it to his multi-colored face. Lance finds the place on the floor across from his boyfriend and sits back on his thighs, staring. For a long while, the only sounds in the room are the hum of the refrigerator and their neighbor’s dog yipping through the walls.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Lance says it more rhetorically than anything.

Keith swallows hard, trying to cover up half of his face with vegetable medley. His voice is muffled by the plastic when he says, “About what?”

Lance rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He has half the mind to storm off into the bedroom and leave Keith to tend to his own wounds. But being a middle sibling of six has taught him patience if nothing else, so he counts to ten again. “About why your face looks like a Goya painting,” he deadpans.

Keith fidgets under Lance’s gaze. His knuckles would be white if they weren’t bruised too. “You know how your asshole ex is.”

“Keith, you have got to pull your head out of the Middle Ages! I’m not some damsel in distress whose honor you have to defend.” Though Lance would admit it was hot the first time… But seeing Keith beat up with dried blood caked all over his features every other weekend is starting to look less suave and James Deany and more thoughtless.

Keith drops the bag of frozen vegetables. Then his nose twitches. To the untrained eye, it would go unnoticed, but Lance has been dating him for two years and three months. And a nose twitch means that Keith’s hiding something.

“But this has nothing to do with that, does it?”

“Lance, would you just let it go—”

“Okay, fine. You want me to let this one go? Then we can talk about last week. Or the week before that. Or the week before that.”

Keith tries for a glare then, a practiced stare that looks like flames are licking at his irises, but Lance is immune from prolonged exposure.

“And I know you’re not that drunk, so let’s not act like this was impulse alone.”

When Keith shrugs off his jacket and tosses it across the room, Lance sees that the bruises aren’t just on his face. His heart jumps up to his throat as the sound of the ice machine crunches in the background.

“Would you just tell me why you’re being more of a brooding edgelord than usual? Why do you have to be so emotionally constipated?” He places either hand on Keith’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “Let me be your laxative.”

“You really have a knack for making up the world’s most disgusting metaphors.”

“It’s a gift. I’m thinking of turning it into a career path.”

“Stick to astrophysics.”

“Stop changing the subject.” It’s clear that neither of them is budging, so Lance just arches a brow and asks, “Do I have to call Shiro?”

Keith slams his back further into the cabinets with a groan. The older brother card is always the trump card. “Do not tell Shiro about this, please. I’m still getting lectures about my stupid cafeteria fights in high school.”

“Then tell me what’s going on! I thought when we said we were gonna be more open with each other, it was gonna be a two-way street. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Nothing’s going on, Lance, okay? I hate your ex-boyfriend and his stupid frat bro sidekicks, and I shouldn’t have had that last shot of moonshine, alright?”

While it is incredibly tempting to comment on the moonshine bit, Lance holds off. Because something else catches his eye. Crossing his arms over his chest, he refuses to break eye contact, giving Keith just a few more moments to tell him the truth. The clock ticks away, and there’s nothing. “You’re biting your lip,” he says finally.

“So?”

“So, one, stop it; it’s busted and you’re gonna hurt yourself. And two, that means you’re not telling me something.”

“Would you quit psychoanalyzing me!?”

Patience be damned. Something in Lance snaps then, something that makes his teeth grind and heat bubble in his chest. His fists tremble a little before he throws his hands out to his sides and starts getting to his feet. “Fine, you know what? Fine. Forget I asked. God forbid someone try to care about you, Keith, damn.”

He steps to leave, but as soon as he does, Keith clasps a hand onto his wrist and pulls just a little. The moment Lance turns his head, eyes sharp with ice and prickling rage, he feels his heart jump. The anger slowly trickles out of his system, sending a shiver down his spine. Keith looks a little broken, shoulders squared and eyes pleading in a way that’s so unlike him it makes something in the back of Lance’s head scream.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… You’re gonna think I’m bat-shit.”

Lance exhales low and deep, turning fully and sitting back down across from Keith. He sets a gentle hand on Keith’s knee, trying to get him to make eye contact. “Try me.”

Keith’s mental illness has been the elephant in the room, always noticed but never talked about. Because Keith refused to talk about it. It took a full year’s convincing, mostly on Shiro’s end, just to get him to start seeing help. Some days he was a mess of the emotions he never learned how to process, and Lance would try his best to be there for him. Other days were better. Other days he was just silent and spacey and tried not to cry.

“No one knows this, okay? Not even Shiro, not even my goddamn shrink, so you can’t…” He trails off, and Lance tries to squeeze his knee in support.

“Keith… Keith, look at me…” When Keith looks up, his eyes are growing misty, pink rings already apparent on the brims of his eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Offering a weak nod, Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he forces himself to speak. “I just… I thought that maybe… Y’know how sometimes people… I don’t know, I thought if I was… Fuck.” He holds up his hands before Lance can say anything, blinking away whatever tears form in his eyes before he lets out a breath and continues. “I thought if I could feel, I don’t know, pain… If I could feel anything I’d stop feeling like…” Keith clamps his teeth down on his lower lip again. Whatever tears he blinks away only come back.

Lance sighs, reaching out his thumb to slip Keith’s lip from his teeth’s grasp. “Keith, you can cry—”

“No, I can’t,” Keith starts, though his voice trembles despite himself. “Because if I start I won’t stop. And I just— Fuck, I just need to say it.” Lance can practically feel the frustration radiating off of the other in waves. With a steady breath, he takes a hand in Keith’s, holding it to his chest and letting Keith know he has Lance’s full attention. Keith hisses in another breath and tries again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… Lately, it’s just like, like nothing is fucking real, and I can talk and hear and touch things, but it’s like I’m not really there. Like I’m in some weird dream world, and I’m just watching myself or something. Or like everything’s not really there, or maybe it is, and I’m just not a part of it… I don’t know, it feels like I’m going insane.”

“Keith…” Lance doesn’t know where to go from there, watching his boyfriend struggle around his words with a pain sinking into Lance’s chest.

“Sometimes I don’t think I even sound like me… Like when I talk, it’s some kind of automated computer message, y’know? And I went home for Christmas. And I thought… I don’t know, I thought being home and in my own bed might make me feel normal again. But it didn’t. And nothing feels normal, nothing feels… Damn it, I’m going insane.” That’s when Keith’s face twists, twists into something that’s a punch to Lance’s gut. And Keith is squinting his eyes closed, sniffling loudly before a sob emits from his throat.

“You know… You don’t have to be so strong all the time…” Lance says in a whisper, tucking a strand of Keith’s hair behind his ear.

Keith looks up at him, eyes watery as he sobs again, pressing his face into Lance’s chest. Lance wraps his arms around him instinctively, feeling Keith shake, choking and whimpering against him. Lance can only hold him closer, shushing him tenderly as Keith claws at the back of Lance’s shirt, gripping onto the fabric like he’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Each broken little noise that leaves Keith is another twist in Lance’s heart, and he doesn’t dare let go.

“It’s okay, you’re okay…” Lance coos, pressing tender kisses on the top of Keith’s hair. “You’re okay, baby… You’re okay…”

Keith doesn’t stop weeping, not until his throat is raw and all he can do is let silent tears roll down his cheeks as he snivels and tries to breathe normally again.

By the time he leans back, sniffling and rubbing under his eyes with the back of his palm, there’s a wet patch on Lance’s T-shirt. Lance doesn’t mind, too busy trying to read Keith’s expression, setting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Do you feel any better?” Lance asks softly, ducking his head into Keith’s line of sight.

Keith nods his head slowly, wiping his nose with the white cotton of his T-shirt with another wet snivel. “Sorry about your shirt.”

Lance snorts, rolling his eyes just a little. “I have other shirts.”

“Yeah.” Keith’s breath shudders once more as he collects himself and blinks the wetness from his puffy eyes, tears caught on his eyelashes. “I’m just sorry I—”

“No. No… We agreed no more apologizing about this.”

“No, you said ‘Keith, stop apologizing every time you cry.’”

“Okay, smartass.” Lance rises to his feet, offering his hands and pulling Keith up along with him. With a steady breath, he places a gentle kiss on the corner of Keith’s lips, mindful to avoid the forming scab. “Thank you… For sharing that with me.”

Keith nods solemnly, probably thinking something snarky about how Lance is talking like his therapist. So Lance goes for a subject change, placing his hands at the base of Keith’s neck.

“How about you wash your face and pick out a movie, alright?”

They spend the rest of the night tangled up in each other, Lance refusing to move his arms from Keith’s waist even as Keith awkwardly holds an icepack to his face. Eventually, they drift to sleep, heart beats pumping in time while Lance tries his best to whisper words of comfort.

“I love you… And you’re here. Even if your mind’s playing tricks on you. You’re here, and you’re with me. And I love you…”

#klangstweek2017 #mental illness tw #depersonalisation tw #klangst #klance #voltron #my writing #look at me not abusing italics this time!!

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andrewjohnsonmpls · 4 years

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The future of policing and community safety

Let’s talk about the future of policing and community safety. First, to dispel any misinformation or misunderstanding right up front: No, the City Council did not vote to abolish the police department. No, there have not been any decisions made on budget cuts. No, we cannot have lawlessness or anarchy. And yes, there are still emergency calls which will require armed law enforcement to respond. Two weeks ago, the world watched in horror, disgust, and anger as George Floyd was murdered by police officers in Minneapolis. For nearly nine minutes he was slowly asphyxiated while he and citizens around him pleaded for officers to stop. We know George Floyd’s murder was not an anomaly. There is a pattern across our nation tracing back 400 years to when Africans were kidnapped, tortured, murdered, and forced into labor through violence. Subjugation didn’t end with slavery. And the disparities we see today in our city run unbroken from the actions and decisions from this past to our present. When I first ran for office, I had a perspective of our police department that many of you have had. I figured there were some bad officers that shouldn’t be in their jobs (much like any other profession), but otherwise the institution was mostly a public good that could use some reforms here and there. Once elected I learned a lot more and realized it wasn’t so simple. I witnessed more than one Mayor and Police Chief work hard to implement reforms. They improved and expanded training, tightened up use of force policies, implemented body-worn cameras, and pushed cultural change that was centered around values we all share. Yet despite these efforts, and the decades worth of efforts that came before them, we were still seeing many problems. Over the past six years I have voted to pay tens of millions of our precious tax dollars to victims of police violence in settlements that would have likely cost taxpayers far more if they proceeded to trial. I watched many videos of this violence and heard time and again about officers with lengthy histories of complaints and payouts against them who were somehow, inexplicably, still on duty and interacting with the public. When Mayor Frey and I moved to decriminalize small amounts of marijuana, we later found out that police continued to make arrests and 46 of 47 (97.8%) arrested were black people. Reports continued to come out of big racial disparities in policing. The Minnesota Department of Human Rights just last week opened an investigation into MPD for patterns of racial discrimination and civil rights violations. I have also listened to many residents in our community who are black, indigenous, or people of color who have said that they do not feel safe around today's MPD and shared with me painful personal experiences. There are many more examples of problems. We read about the 3rd Precinct (our precinct) being a “playground for renegade cops” (even after different leaders at the helm were tasked with fixing it). And I have heard from many of you about your disgust with the police union (whose role it is to speak for rank and file officers) smearing the reputation of a murder victim and continuing to show contempt for civilian oversight of law enforcement (a basic tenant in our republic). Ironically, despite all of this, Minneapolis has often been praised as a model for police reform. I believe it’s fair to say that these experiences and observations point to a larger problem than just a few bad apples. It paints the institution of MPD as broken. It is important to reconcile this with the truth that there are many officers who truly do serve with compassion and care. Viewing the institution as broken is not an attack on those individuals who swore an oath to protect and serve. I take responsibility for my part in underestimating the extent of dysfunction within the institution. As a Council Member I have also been frustrated and stymied trying to push for reforms over the years. The City Charter gives the authority over police operations and policymaking to the Mayor. Given our limited authority, the Council has three primary tools available to us: budget approval (top-line numbers), an up/down vote on the appointment of the Chief, and an up/down vote on the police union contract. We used these in ways we felt we could and pushed in many other ways for change. We made investments in groundbreaking violence intervention work to disrupt the cycle of violence in communities. We funded many of the reforms sought by the Mayor and Chief. We eliminated some laws that, upon analysis, were used to inappropriately target residents while not actually reducing or aiding in the reduction of crime. I led the effort to establish a workgroup that analyzed what calls currently handled by police officers could be better addressed by other trained professionals (and free up time for officers to focus on calls where they were needed). Heck, we even tried to put a City Charter amendment on the ballot for voters to decide if the Council should have some authority in police policymaking so that we could better help with reform efforts (but that never made it onto the ballot due to opposition from some council members). It is with this history, the experiences and voices of community members, and the shortcomings of past reforms that we must ask what to do next. Some may think that the path forward is to keep trying more reforms as has been done for decades. That maybe this time it will somehow be different, and we will get the changes in results we would like to see. I personally don’t think that will be enough. We have seen black leaders and youth rally in this moment and lead the call for change. They have made the request that we join a community-led effort to re-imagine public safety and an alternative to MPD as it exists today. I support their call and stand in solidarity of bringing community together in this work over the next year. The language some use around this makes me uncomfortable, and I know it makes some of you uncomfortable or scared: disband, defund, dismantle, abolish. Some in the media seized on those terms to sensationalize or even mischaracterize the effort. To be clear: no one has been advocating that we simply end MPD without an alternative public safety department to replace it. We cannot have a vacuum where there is no law enforcement, and we know that there will still be a need for armed law enforcement for some emergency calls. We cannot allow anarchy or a wild west situation. Many of you are also exhausted from having to be on high-alert in the aftermath of recent civil unrest and feel that law enforcement is needed more than ever. We also know that there are many calls currently being handled by police that can be handled in a better way. For instance, the crimes that touch our ward the most are property crimes. Right now, rather than having two armed officers come fill out a report after a theft has happened, what if we had someone come out to not only fill out a report but also to proactively: offer a home security audit and connect homeowners with resources? Determine if your block has a leader and if not help establish one? Provide communication to neighbors about this crime and recommend actions they could take? Help gather community impact statements for consideration by judges? Better utilize restorative justice to help break the cycle of crime? (Effectively an expansion of the Crime Prevention Specialist role). These are just some ideas, and I know you all have many more on the ways we can achieve better outcomes that make our community safer. The commitment yesterday to start the process of engaging with community over the next year in re-imagining what a new public safety department could look like is an effort to bring us all together and put every idea on the table. We will need to develop a sound and thoughtful plan if it is to be implemented. We will need community buy-in. We will likely need it to go on the ballot in November 2021, as well as some changes in state laws. And importantly, we will need to be confident that it will result in greater safety for all residents. It’s a bold and challenging undertaking, but if this is not the time to try and consider what we as a community want public safety to look like, then when is? This effort should not hamper immediate actions to implement change to MPD, some of which have already been taken (such as the further tightening of the use of force policy last Friday), and some of which will soon come. I believe it will be important to collaborate with the Mayor and Police Chief in this work, both of whom see the problems and are genuinely committed to change. I also believe we can make some changes in the upcoming budget (no decisions have been made yet) to better invest in proven violence prevention efforts and other community-based strategies for safety. And not lost in all of this are the inequities and instabilities in our communities that result in many of the crimes that occur and must be addressed as well. Some of you are likely skeptical or concerned about this effort to re-imagine public safety and an alternative to MPD as it exists today. I get it. You want to feel safe in our community and maybe believe this is pie in the sky thinking that is unrealistic. But I ask that you keep an open-mind and participate once community engagement efforts are launched. Let’s work together over the next year in this community-led effort to see if we can put together a plan that makes sense, is thoughtful, and will result in a safer community for all. More to come.

(Emailed to constituents June 8th, 2020)

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fathersonholygore · 7 years

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FX’s Legion Chapter 8 Directed by Michael Uppendahl Written by Noah Hawley

* For a recap & review of the penultimate Chapter, click here. Now that the Interrogator (Hamish Linklater) has returned, we see flashbacks to his encounter with David (Dan Stevens), his injury and subsequent recovery. At his bedside waits Daniel (Keir O’Donnell); it appears they’re partners, as well as having an adopted child together. The poor guy rests in bed, recovering, and he’s left with burns all over his body. “There‘s my handsome guy,” Daniel says reassuringly, yet we’re juxtaposed with the mangled scar tissue on his partner’s face as a jarring visual. He has a Jack Nicholson’s Joker moment – except much more subdued – asking for a mirror, seeing his new face for the first time, too. Thus begins a long period of rest, trying to get better. When he gets back to work he says fuck desk duty. He’s “going to war” and finishing what was started that day at the pool. Need to note that the visuals of the series are gorgeous and well conceived. On top of that, Jeff Russo’s score is haunting, it’s a huge part of the show’s atmosphere. Russo has done good work before, I’d vote that this is his best yet. Accompanies the psychedelic, surreal feel of Legion in such an appropriate way. The music has such an ’80s feeling at times that it’s wonderfully throwback. Now the Interrogator and his SWAT members have David, Ptonomy (Jeremie Harris), Syd (Rachel Keller), all of them at gunpoint. Ready to die. Except David disagrees, using his powers to make a human totem of the SWAT team. Instead of letting Ptonomy shoot the Interrogator, David takes the time to build bridges instead of burn them. Problem is, Daniel and everyone back at D3 are watching through the eye of the Interrogator. And worse, David worries that schizophrenia still grips him. That everything happening is an elaborate dream. Syd tries convincing him either he accepts his powers are real, or else they’ll never get out of the trouble they’re in. David: “I‘m so sick of myself. This only works if it‘s not about me.” At Summerland, Dr. Melanie Bird (Jean Smart) tries to wrangle everyone together, as Cary (Bill Irwin) keeps an eye on David’s halo. She wants to find out more about D3 with the Interrogator in their keep. The halo, however, is losing juice. They’ve got to figure out what to do; about the Shadow King, Farouk, that Devil with the Yellow Eyes. And fucking Lenny (Aubrey Plaza), still talking. Always talking. Then there’s Cary and Kerry (Amber Midthunder), fighting over what happened between them on the astral plane, and she is pissed. A lot of tension happening. Melanie’s also distraught over the situation with Oliver (Jemaine Clement), who still can’t remember her. They agree to have dinner together, she hopes he’ll soon remember. Sad to watch her essentially left behind by him, albeit not intentional. Either way, she has the Interrogator – he says his name’s Clark – with whom she must deal. He mostly has threats for her. Doesn’t faze Dr. Bird: “You better learn to fly like a bird because the age of the dinosaur is over.”

So Clark’s sat down with David, who seems more in control than ever. Which is less comforting, more scary than I expected. “You don‘t have to be afraid,” he tells Clark, over and over and over. Then things start getting strange. Syd finds herself in more of the dream world, faced with a creepy, decaying Lenny, appearing to her as the Devil with the Yellow Eyes, its true form. She has to face the evil down, and she does – explaining how they’re cutting it out, like doctors do with a tumour; cut it out, burn it. Only Lenny says she’s a part of David now. To get her out, David must go, as well. Clark: “You‘re gods, and someday you‘re gonna wake up and realise you don‘t need to listen to us anymore.” David: “Isn‘t that the history of the world? People of different nations, different languages learning to live together?” Poor David goes weak. Syd explains to Clark about the parasite, what it is and how they plan on ridding David of it. I wonder, will this guy succumb and help? Regardless of that, all the while D3 is listening holding the Peacemaker at bay, for the time being. With Clark back in holding with Kerry, the others go to work on David – Oliver, specifically. He and Cary detect a second set of brain waves within their subject’s head. Hopefully they can fix it while leaving David’s mind intact. As Pink Floyd and Tom Stoppard plays, they work away, and David flashes back through memories in his past, Lenny struggling harder and harder inside to get out. David’s lost in a sea of memory, right back to being an infant. And the Devil with the Yellow Eyes lurks right behind. He confronts it, calling Lenny out from within. He wonders of his identity, without Lenny. Who and what he is without that part of him. “Are you my phantom?” he asks. “What happens to me when you’re gone?” Like a child, first dealing with the prospect of life without their imaginary friend. Then the parasite chokes David, trying to kill him. Can he survive without Farouk? Must he die?

Doing the unthinkable, Syd tries saving David by kissing him on the lips. Transferring the parasite into herself. Oh, shit. Off come the gloves, both figuratively and literally. Going from Syd to Kerry, the Devil with the Yellow Eyes uses her ass kicking skills to start a lot of trouble. Even Clark tries to stop it before getting tossed aside like trash. Then we have a face off between Kerry possessed and David, healthy, powerful again. They fly at one another with full speed and power, blowing each other back. And Oliver, he winds up in the way of things. While the Summerland facility is in chaos, he walks out and drives off on his own. Right after he’d just remembered his wife, too. A sad, unexpected consequence of David’s battle with Farouk.

On the road, Oliver rides with Lenny shotgun. Another powerful mind latched onto by the nasty parasite. What’s going to happen next? Who knows. One thing’s for sure, Season 2 is going to be wild, in all sorts of ways. Also a great inclusion of “Children of the Revolution” by T Rex in the last scene. Beauty way to close out an awesome season! An after credits scene sees David tracking Lenny and Oliver, knowing they’re headed south. They’re also visited by a strange orb. It scans David, then sucks him inside. Carrying him off elsewhere. WHOOOA! Cannot wait for next year. This was one of the best series to have premiered in years, honestly. Lots of good stuff out there, but Noah Hawley is on another level. Between this and Fargo? One of TV’s auteurs, for certain. Legion – Chapter 8 FX's Legion Chapter 8 Directed by Michael Uppendahl Written by Noah Hawley * For a recap & review of the penultimate Chapter, …

#Aubrey Plaza #Chapter 8 #Dan Stevens #Hamish Linklater #Jemaine Clement #Keir O&039;Donnell #Legion #Mutant #Rachel Keller #Season Finale #The Devil with the Yellow Eyes #The Shadow King

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

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Persistence -2

Hey all! This is a continuation of the OC pirate story I’ll try to think of a name for at some point (ayy there’s a name now look at that). If you didn’t catch the first part, the link to that is on that first paragraph.

Series Masterlist

Content warnings: creepy/intimate whumper, kidnapping, noncon (nonsexual) touching, brief head trauma, lady whumpee (not associated with creepy whumper)

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He didn’t even see the fist fly through the air before it crashed into his jaw, knocking him to the ground as his vision faded to black. The other man may have said something, then, but he could only hear the ringing in his ears before that left him too.

Floyd came to at some point, vision fading in dim patches of light and shape. He was thankful just to be conscious right up until his body left the ground without warning, a sickening sensation rushing through him. It only worsened when he was thrown over a shoulder and he swayed in what must have been Percival’s hold. Any doubts he had were dismissed when the body he was pressed against rumbled with that same deep, soft voice that sent a shiver of dread down his spine.

“I have what I came for. Wrap it up and get everyone back on board before anyone catches on, or they’re getting left behind.”

Shouting from someone else followed the command, but it faded into the distance as Percival ran the opposite way, jostling Floyd roughly and making breathing a chore with the bones of his shoulder pressing ever harder into his torso. It was then, in the hands of the enemy, being taken to what he could only assume was a secondary location, the threats from earlier still hanging over his head, that Floyd realized compliance wasn’t likely to keep him alive.

Fighting against every instinct that told him to just go with it, he pushed weakly against the arms that held his body in place, wriggling in hopes of loosening the grip. But no matter how much he struggled, the arms around him only grew tighter. Like a python weakening its prey. Or a serpent, he thought wryly.

When darkness enveloped him again, it took Floyd a second to realize he hadn’t passed out, but instead been taken inside. A maze of dim cabin hallways passed by as he craned his neck for a view of where they were headed, but it was all so strangely unfamiliar. Where were they? Floyd had explored every inch of his own ship. He should’ve known where they were.

The thought that he might be aboard the Golden Felucca hit him like a slap in the face. It didn’t make sense, but if Percival wasn’t going to kill him after all... Floyd sobbed aloud at the memory of his mindless begging, the offering of himself in exchange for his life. He hadn’t expected it to work. He hadn’t thought any further ahead than that isolated moment of desperation and he felt a dizzying, fearful regret bubble up to his head.

There was no more time to dwell on it before Percival strode into a room and Floyd’s body hit the ground, rolling a few feet with the momentum. There was no struggle left in him, even as he opened his eyes to the horrific sight of a small room outfitted with chains, metal loops, and more he didn’t even care to identify in his exhausted state. Adrenaline nagged him, pulled him on to his side, but the full force of his exhaustion, hunger, thirst, and fright hit all at once.

Percival gathered Floyd’s wrists above his head in a firm grip, dragging him backward, sitting him up against a wall, and locking him there with heavy metal shackles. Floyd couldn’t breathe steadily enough to speak, raising his tearful eyes instead in a last ditch effort to plead with his captor.

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way Percival had run away with him unseen. In a few seconds, his crew would burst through the door to save him. They had to.

Tall legs bent before him and a lopsided smile spread over Percival’s face. He reached a hand up to stroke Floyd’s hair, which he shied away from with a shudder.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Percival chided, running fingers through short waves even as his captive pressed the side of his face to the wall, refusing to look back at him. “This setup is only temporary, alright? I’ll make sure you’re much less comfortable tomorrow.”

With a final ruffle of Floyd’s hair that pulled his head back and knocked it off the wall, as well as a flourish of his own long coat, Percival stood up and strolled back to the door.

“See you soon, dear!”

Then he was gone.

——————————————————

(The Thief’s Halyard, just minutes prior)

Ray thrust his sword fiercely at the opposing pirate, driving them toward the edge of the ship. They parried his strikes well but backed up too far, leaving them vulnerable against the railing. Ray was prepared to force them into submission, perhaps threaten to push them over into the churning waters, when a shrill voice cut through the action, calling all of the opposing pirates to retreat.

It caught him off guard and Ray hesitated just long enough for his foe to use their position on the rail to deliver a high kick across his face before scrambling to their feet and jumping the gap between ships.

Ray cried out at the nasty hit, cradling his cheek, and by the time he looked back the person had scaled a rope ladder and disappeared. All around him, people were retreating and doing the same, leaving the crew of The Thief’s Halyard alone and dazed.

A quick glance around found nearly everyone standing up at the very least, traces of blood at a surprising minimum. His eye was quickly drawn to Mabel, running over to him with her hands pressed over a deep red stain on her side.

“Mabel! Mae, hey, are you alright, is it bad?” Ray tried to pry her hands away and see the wound, but she wouldn’t let him. She only pressed harder, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, only causing more pain in an attempt to stanch the bleeding.

“It’s fine, ‘m fine. Just a stab, may-hhh-! Maybe a few centimeters, but that’s not, ‘s not important-”

“Yes it is!” Ray butted in, placing a careful hand on her shoulder, “Here, hold on, let me get a look at that and we can get it stitched up and taken care of.”

“No, no! Floyd, it’s Floyd.” Ray froze, eyes suddenly wide, darting around the ship. He’d seen Floyd just a few minutes ago, hadn’t he? “Hhhh-he’s, gone, I dunno… Thought I saw Percival for a second and he was gone then Floyd was gone…” Mabel stumbled on unsteady feet, and Ray caught her before she could fall to the ground, eyes wild.

“Gone? What do you mean? Where? People don’t just disappear, Mae.”

“Just, over there, look!” She pointed to a wall away from the main battle congregation and the traces of blood around it.

“I... Where is he now? Where’d he go?”

“I didn’ see... it leads off the side, though, and- Gods, Ray, if he- hhhe…” she trailed off, the words catching in the back of her throat, her breath hitching. Her eyes were glazed over with tears and pain, but Ray’s were dark, focused, and intense.

“It was him? You’re sure it was him?” He shook her a little as he asked. Mabel swayed listlessly to the side and nodded. “Look at you, you can hardly even stand. You might’ve just seen it wrong. Can’t trust your body, can’t trust your mind, right?” She squinted and shook her head as if to clear it but he kept going. “We’re going to organize this ship and we’re going to find him, and I’ll only relent when we do.”

Mabel looked up, trying to put her thoughts into words, but her head spun and she couldn’t think before Ray helped her sit on the ground, made sure she was still putting pressure on the wound, and called everyone else over to him. Beside them, the Golden Felucca was pulling away, no worse for wear but no richer, either. It was strange, to say the least.

When people circled around, Ray did a quick headcount and frowned.

“We’re missing Charlie and Floyd. Has anyone seen either of them?”

“Charlie just went in, said he couldn’t take the heat and needed to lay down before he passed out entirely,” one woman explained.

“Okay, thank you Edith. And Floyd?” Ray was clearly desperate as he looked over everyone, each slight shake of the head and avoidance of eye contact sending a shiver down his spine. “Okay... okay.” He wiped his eyes and swallowed the emotions that wanted to bubble up. It wasn’t too late. Surely it wasn’t too late.

“Listen up, then,” he said, voice harsh, “I need one person who can handle a needle and thread... Clara, yes, you’ll do. Take Mabel with you, fix her up, and get back to me when you’re done. The rest of you are going to scour every single place on this ship to find Floyd.”

Clara hurried to Mabel’s side as Ray launched into more specific directions, offering two hands to pull her to her feet. She nearly collapsed the moment she stood but Clara caught her around the waist and guided both of them toward the cabin door. Mabel was so dizzy and distracted by the unusually harsh, commanding tone of Ray’s voice that she didn’t even hear Clara for a few seconds.

“Mabel!” A shout finally brought her back. “The stairs. Can you make it down or should I try lifting you?”

They were inside. She hadn’t even noticed they’d walked so far, but considering how Clara was already shaking with the effort of holding her upright, Mabel couldn’t imagine asking to be carried. She shook her head loosely, stumbling forward and shakily making her way down. Even here, she could still hear Ray in the distance.

“I will not give up on finding him until I exhaust each and every method at my disposal,” he shouted, “and I will not be hearing a single complaint from the lot of you that entire time. I do not care how parched your throat is or how tired your legs are. Do whatever you need to survive, and get the fuck to work.”

Mabel felt faint. She wanted so badly to get back out there and redirect the situation, but she couldn’t think straight as she was. She could only hope and pray despite herself that Floyd was still aboard, that what she’d seen really had been wrong, but she knew that was just too good to be true.

————————————

Next part

#whump #pirate whump #Benedict Floyd #Percival #Raymond Bates #Mabel #kidnapping #held captive #shackled #creepy captor #stabbed #stab wound #blood loss #missing teammate #y’all I’m so excited to write the next one #but it’s gonna be a real test of my whump pacing so oh man #Persistence

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

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💥 and 🍅 for Floyd and 🔮 and ❤️ for percival (it it’s not too many anyway ahdjdjdk)

Thanks Allen :DD Never too many questions my dude

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this? (For Floyd)

Ooh I think a lot of emotions are hard for Floyd. The only emotions he really feels comfortable with are Being Nice To People and Vague Sadness That’s Always Kinda Stirring Since He Has Unresolved Emotions He Doesn’t Feel Like Dealing With. See, he never really learned How to emotion very well. His childhood was spend in the lower class and working from the earliest age he could. Which, considering this setting is akin to the 1800′s, was probably around the ages of 8 or 9.

But before I spill his entire life story, yes Floyd had a bit of a hard time and from that has learned the very healthy skill of not wanting to show or deal with his deeper emotions. Feeling too happy in general can make him uneasy, waiting for someone to come around and tell him to knock it off, because a smile must mean he’s been causing mischief and that’s a punishable offense.

Feeling a lot of strong emotions could have impeded him from survival so he doesn’t really like that. Even something like fear, which he felt so so often, stirs those old memories and instincts inside of him. So yeah you can see how that’s working out for him in the main story at the moment lol. (thinks about how i need to write more of that. thinks about all the ideas i’ve got written down. pokes motivation. motivation wibble wobbles and says nothing. i will beat it up later)

🍅 How easily is your OC embarrassed? What subjects make them flush and why? What event has made your OC the most embarrassed they’ve ever been? (Also for Floyd)

Damn, really coming for Floyd’s emotions and insecurities today. Alrighty, well, Floyd gets really embarrassed when he makes a mistake. It’s always been a bit of a thing for him. Just ingrained really, but it’s gotten worse as he’s been mocked or punished for mistakes throughout his life.

If it’s a particular subject, that’s probably any sort of confrontation. He’s very good at immediately assuming the worst, and will probably flush in a one on one conversation if he gets uncomfortable. The one exception to this is talking with Ray because Floyd trusts him the most and has had a lot of harder conversations with him which he’s handled very well. This buildup of trust has led them to form the close bond they share now. Even so, Floyd still doesn’t like to discuss the more personal topics, it’s just easier now with Ray than anyone else.

Oh, and the most embarrassed he’s ever been... That’s probably gotta be some of the first days Floyd was on the pirate ship. Being found out as a stowaway hiding in their kitchen really wasn’t ideal for him, and sharing a bit about his general life situation to Ray made the man so intensely empathetic that Floyd nearly misinterpreted it as looking down on him even though that’s not what he meant at all. So yeah that adjustment and everything came with a lot of embarrassment.

🔮 What does your OC think is their best trait. What is actually their best trait? What about their flaws? Are they one to admit these flaws or do they like to pretend they’re perfect? (For Percival)

OOooh hm. I think Percival is definitely proud of his swordplay skills and that’s something he values a lot. Which, well, it’s definitely subjective there as to whether or not they’re actually his best trait. Yes, he can hold his own in a fight, but that’s often due to some level of cheating with his magic. Whether surprising an enemy by attacking after having been invisible or avoiding blows by phasing them through him (have I mentioned that power? was that gonna be a secret? yeah part of the invisibility thing is sorta transparency as well, being able to phase through objects or phase objects he’s in contact with through something and wow thinking about that more just gave me a whump idea oh yes. Anyywayyy). So in a level playing field sort of battle where he couldn’t use magic he’d be fairly decent, but yeah his sort of cheating definitely plays a part in his confidence there.

If he had another best trait, it probably would be incredible control over his magical powers. He may not feel like it, but he’s been honing them for a long time and even started developing them at a younger age than most who have magic in this universe. His powers kicked in and saved his life a few times when he was a kid, but he often didn’t notice at the time. So long story short yes he’s very skilled with magic and doesn’t quite realize just how difficult it takes to get to his level of power and control (hehehee and that certainly doesn’t make things easier for Floyd ;D)

Oh and flaws. Wow this is getting long. Well, he’s a fucking narcissist to start. So he isn’t gonna be admitting to any of these flaws anytime soon. But he’s a fairly horrendous leader, not ever doing much to participate with or assist his crew. Though he does care for and respect them more than it may seem, he isn’t much for teamwork and prefers to watch on and do nothing. People flock to work for him because of his status and reputation, not because of his kindness.

❤️ What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them? (Also for Percival)

Aha, well. I had this crew of really nice pirates going out and being super cool and awesome. And I’m sitting here like: hm I need a reason to hurt this one boy though. Brain said “alright it’s Evil Pirate Time” and I was like yes absolutely I would like that. So Percival came into being. His appearance has changed at least five times in my mind except for his eye color and height (wait that may have changed too oh man who even knows at this point). I knew nearly nothing about his personality or backstory when I started writing him and I just had to kinda go along with it. I’m out of touch with him rn and that hasn’t been making my life with the story easy, but he’s always been pretty spontaneous for me.

So yeah that whole thing happened back in November, so nearly 7 or 8 months now (oh my god it’s been so long that’S WILD WHAT EVEN) and he’s been hanging around being mean and stuff ever since.

#that got. so very long. i'm so sorry #that was a lot #brain thinks too much for ask games omg XDD #would you believe me if i said I didn't know what any of these answers were gonna be when i read the questions #because i wouldn't believe me that's for sure.#Benedict Floyd #Percival

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