#also yeah not really ready to admit there’s some kind of plurality here so for right now this is all a thought experiment

[wormtoxin]

updated personas/subroutines: (disclaimer: i still don’t think im plural, sorry)

Pepper/Clover: the main one, not even one of the subroutines really, just the blank slate object which all the others act upon. The physical body. The only persona recognized by society.

Autopilot: the regular forms and functions of being a human being. Wake up, brush teeth, go to class, come home, go to sleep. Sometimes one of the others sneaks in and replaces it without my notice, especially when I’m talking to other people, and I don’t care for that shit at all. Routine.

Rambles: Vile little subroutine that makes my mouth move well before my brain. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on and on and I can’t stop. I don’t like conversation much because having to talk necessitates Rambles and then I feel totally out of control and I hate it. Objectively this one has its uses but it’s also my least favorite.

The Wretch: Self-loathing subroutine. Convinced it’s a worthless fuckup and probably correct. Self-sacrificing while being selfish, apologetic while seeking sympathy, paradoxically victim and passive-aggressor. The worst of both worlds. I actually put a lot of time and effort into being properly accountable the way a human being should be, but sometimes i get overemotional and I spiral and that part’s The Wretch i think.

The Doll: Control, poise, perfection, submission, obedience. Maybe if it’s perfect we can get it right this time. If it’s just perfect then nobody can criticize it. Next time it’ll get it. Never does. Masking, I think? Maybe some kind of fucked up anti-masking? Can’t keep this one up for long. Wishes it could just be quiet for once and let our actions speak for themselves, but people keep trying to talk to it, and it inevitably slips away. Probably used it more when I was working.

The Dog: Playing, eating, sleeping, rolling, getting off, singing and drawing. Simple bodily expressions. Not so bright. This one doesn’t get much of an outlet. Kind of a lump, occasionally whipped into shape by expectation. I actually kinda like being this one but it’s impossible when being perceived by another human being. The most invisible persona of them all. Immoral (amoral?) and therefore unsustainable long-term

The Magician: Doing, studying, creating, dressing, presenting. A self-styled scholar. Flashy and stylish and confident. Would describe itself as “dark academia” or something similarly edgy-but-trendy. Work and school romanticized, transmogrified into an exciting fantasy. Useful for being productive.

The Witch: Free of responsibility to society or others or ethics. A heartbreaker maneater homewrecker bitch. A natural disaster. An expression not of individuality or self, but force and violence. Claiming anything it wants by any means necessary and destroying everything in its path. Selfish to the core. Chained up in a basement somewhere. It exists but it’s cruel and it sucks so I never ever let it out. But I like to remember it’s there. A trump card, a concealed weapon. Break glass in case of emergency. I feel the shape of its outline like a knife stashed in a boot and I know I could use it if I ever needed it.

Honorable Mentions:

Poetics: Playing with sounds, words, grammar, languages, ideas until they sound musical and pleasing. Etymology research, vocabulary buff, eidetic memory for certain words and phrases, but only when they sound “right”. Possibly used for all five senses, or possibly shares overlap with Composition (visual) and Kinesthetics (touch)

Faux Marxism: Self-righteous understanding of the dialectical materialist view of history. Used mostly for impassioned speeches at inopportune moments (Rambles) or in response to perceived political threats. Poetics and Faux Marxism are both very invested in learning as much vocabulary, history, languages, and multiculturalism as possible, but for very different reasons.

Horndog: you could take all of sexuality and sprinkle it across all the other different subroutines, OR you could concentrate it into one horrible little guy.

Puzzles: The subroutine that just will NOT let a problem go until it’s solved. Character designs, meaningless research inquiries, computer software. Very very very very rarely, actual assigned tasks. The Magician wants what Puzzles has.

Hibernation: Comfy cozy blanket pillow sweater cuddle nap pile. Memorized the rhythms of the winter hibernation episodes of Tanoshii Moomin Ikka and plays them in a loop continually year-round. This one might be straight-up biological. I think I might have a vitamin deficiency.

Fog: The squishy slouchy sweaty medium that fills up whatever psychic dream space all the other personas occupy. There used to be a sense of “me” but it got covered up by all the fog what seems like years ago. That sense of wholeness, control, totality, unification. It existed once. I like to think it’s still out there, somewhere, if I just get my meds right or get enough sleep and if I can just synthesize all the others maybe I can feel “like myself” again. But all the fog covers it up. Memory issues. Whenever I get a sudden moment of clarity, and I realize I’ve been one of the more loathsome subroutines, someone I don’t recognize, I’ll have just stumbled out of the fog. Always comes with a feeling of “Why did I just say that?” Or, “What did I just say?”. Dissociation, maybe???

????: see previous. The negative space that fills everything else in. I don’t even know whether to call this one “Selfhood” or “Synthesis” or “Control” or “Autonomy” or …”Me”. That’s probably most appropriate but it feels like too foreign a word to make sense of. Whatever was here once got swallowed up by the fog, and I don’t know what it is anymore. If it was here I think I could feel like a present sensor and agent in my own life again. This is probably what people expect out of “Pepper” or “Clover”, the flagship of the armada, the face and voice of the operation. I don’t know where that person is. All the subroutines (personas?) are trying to emulate her, stall for time until she comes back. She might not ever be coming back. We might be all we have.

[buckys-black-dress]

✄ chapter three: losin' grip on my doin'

a/n: okay, let's goooo! chapter 3 :) things are buildin up... get ready ;) chapter 4 will be posed tonight or tomorrow :)

wc: 4.1k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

-

To say the least, waking up the next morning in the most coveted after playboy's bed was a shock. You wake up nestled into Bucky Barnes' side, and you wonder if this is what it felt like.

If this is what every conquest that's been brought to his room feels like when they wake up.

You're very much aware of a metal arm slung over your waist, and you feel panic rise up in your throat. Once you recognize you're fully clothed, you release a breath and feel the tension disintegrating from your body.

You can feel Bucky Barnes' heavy breaths under your head from where you're situated on his chest, and you take a moment and pause.

You would never think you'd find yourself in this situation; sidled up in bed with your university's most notorious fratboy. Someone girls and guys coveted after, and who would do anything to get in bed with him.

Yet, here you are. You don't want to admit to yourself that you quite like it here. You feel comfortable, safe. Fitted perfectly right under his arm, listening to his even breaths as you replay the night before's events in your mind like a film reel.

You meet him.

You play pong with him.

You talk to him.

You go up to his room with him.

And now you're awake in his bed. Fully clothed.

How?

Before you could ask too many questions and drown into a spiral, you hear Bucky draw in a sharp breath, signaling his awakening. You look up at him, wondering how he's going to react to you being here. Not only you being here, but also how you two woke up.

"Mornin', doll." He smiles down at you, and his morning voice sends a shiver down your spine at the raspiness.

"H-Hi." You simply say. You can't quite draw any coherent thoughts at the moment, as Bucky's arm tightens around you and draws you closer to his body.

"Sleep well?" He asks, still looking down at you fond look that makes your heart swell in your chest.

"Hm," you hum, "better than I expected, honestly." You laugh.

"Good, spent way too much on this mattress for it to not please my guests." Bucky smirks, and you get lost in his blue eyes for a moment.

But then, you think about his word choice. Guests. Plural. And although you know nothing happened between you two, you still feel a wave of shame wash over you at the notion.

Bucky's had guests in this bed before. You aren't the first girl to sleep in this bed, and you probably weren't the last.

You feel Bucky shift underneath you, seeing his expression turn to worry at the way you're clearly lost in thought.

"Everythin' alright?" He asks, and you nod quickly.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just peachy." You give a quick smile, trying to not show how your stomach was churning at the thought of all the girls who've been here before you.

"Wanna go grab some breakfast?" Bucky asks, and you pause.

He wants to stay with me? He's not kicking me out, asking me to leave?

“Sure, uh, where did you wanna go?” You ask gently, worrying that you might scare him off, that he’s delusional right now and he doesn’t really want to spend time with you. You’re beyond confused right now.

“We can head to the diner if you’re good with that? My treat.” He says as he stands up, pulling on a shirt to avoid the chill of the room.

It’s a red henley, and the way you see his muscles straining in the sleeves of the shirt has a blush crawling up your neck.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You croak, getting out of the bed.

-

By the time you get up and get dressed, sweatpants courtesy of Bucky, and head to the diner, it’s already noon. It’s a Saturday morning, so most people are still in bed while recovering from their hangovers.

“So, how come I haven’t seen you at one of our parties before last night?” Bucky asks while you seat yourselves at a booth in the back of the diner.

“I uhm, I don’t really go out too much. Natasha basically begged me to come out, and I only did it to get her off my case and stop asking me.” You reply while taking a sip of the scalding coffee in front of you that a nice waitress poured for the two of you.

“Really? Well, I’d say you should come more often,” he gives you this smile, and your brain is short-circuiting at how handsome he looks. “You were a great pong partner.”

The emphasis on the word and his tone indicate that he was very much so being sarcastic, and you give a bashful chuckle at his words.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I have nothing on Natasha and Sam.” You laugh, and the same waitress comes by to take your orders.

Once she flutters back behind the counter to put the orders in, you’re reading a text on your phone that you felt vibrate while it was in the pocket of Bucky’s sweater you were sporting.

Natasha:

(12:08 PM) Hey, did you end up getting back safe last night? Sorry I kind of bailed, I just ended up crashing when I got to Sam’s room.

She punctuates her sentence with a face palm emoji in embarrassment, and you smile at the text.

Y/N:

(12:10 PM) Hi, I just crashed in Bucky’s room last night. No funny business tho, so don’t get any ideas in your head.

As you send off the message, you turn off your phone and place is face-down on the table, deciding you’ll deal with Nat’s freak out about you spending the night with Bucky later.

“Everythin’ okay?” Bucky’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you snap your eyes up to his.

“Yeah, Nat was just making sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch last night.” You laugh, shaking your head at how dramatic your roommate could be at times.

“Hey, it’s good to know she cares about you.” He responds, and you nod at his words.

“I mean, yeah. No matter how much she might bug me about going out or getting a boyfriend, she’s still like my sister. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A sigh leaves your mouth, thinking about Nat. She’s been there for you through everything in your life, and it was true. She was your biggest supporter, and you’re glad you have someone who cares so much for you.

“She seems like a great friend. Sam and Steve are the same for me. I mean, although I grew up with Steve, Sam was like the third brother we never even knew we needed.” He stares off into the distance with a soft look in his eyes, and you smile fondly at his words.

In that moment, you feel like you’re seeing a side of Bucky that not many people get to see. This is Bucky, a guy from Brooklyn who’s just trying to get by in college. Not a man-whore, or a guy who just wants to ge his dick wet like everyone says.

Before you could come up with a response to what he’s said, the same lady comes and places your hot food in front of the both of you, leaving with a ‘enjoy!’ before she whirls away again.

You eat while making small talk, just about life, school, and hobbies. Before you know it, Bucky asks for the check, and even though you know he said he’d pick it up earlier, you still fight him on paying for half the bill.

In the end, Bucky becomes so frustrated with your antics that he simply gets up and hands the waitress his card, and you simply watch with a dropped jaw at his actions.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You exclaim, albeit quietly, but enough to show your frustration.

“Doll, I’m treating you to brunch. Just let me.” Is all Bucky says, effectively shutting you up.

-

On your walk back to campus, Bucky asks what you’re doing for the rest of the day, asking if you wanted to come back to his room.

“I should head back, Natasha’s probably waiting for me with a million questions.” You bashfully look up to your window from the bottom of your dorm building.

“Oh, okay doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an unexpected hug. You feel your body tense at the action, but once you realize what’s happening, you relax again, letting yourself melt into his body.

“See ya later?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know what I’ll be doing later, but we can talk later.” You smile up at him, slowly moving out of his grip and towards the door.

Before you could fully open the door, you hear Bucky’s voice call out to you one more time.

“Y/N, wait!” He yells, jogging over to you at the door. “Can I uh, get your number? So I can text you later?” He asks, his metal hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“O-Oh, sure! Yeah!” You reply a bit louder than you had intended, just out of pure shock at his question.

You open a new message on your phone, allowing Bucky to type in his number and save his contact. Once he hands the device back to you, you see his name saved as Bucky Barnes <3.

Before you can say anything about the heart he added himself, he pecks your cheek and runs off, with a distant ‘I’ll see ya later, doll!’

You essentially float up to your room, not feeling like you were on the planet right now. You felt like you were up in the clouds, unaware of your own actions. You unlock the door to your room, and Natasha is perched upon her bed, looking down at two outfits she has held up against her form.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my messages, you little bitch! Tell me everything!” She turns around at the sound of you entering, already berating you.

But it all sounds muffled in your ears, not fully comprehending what she was saying to you.

“Hey, you okay? Earth to Y/N?” The redhead says again, waving a hand in front of your face at your spacey expression.

“I-I, yeah, I’m fine. Just… shocked.” You breathe out.

“So? Tell me what happened!”

At first, you could barely get the words out of your mouth, trying to explain everything that occurred in the past 24 hours. You get through the story, a little bit challenged at trying to organize your thoughts, but eventually you get Natasha up to speed.

“So… you didn’t have sex with him?” Your roommate says, and you shake your head no.

“Nat, you know how I feel about having sex. I don’t want to rush into it, and I don’t want my first time to be with some… random guy from a frat. I want it to be with someone I trust, someone I’m comfortable with.” You tell her like a broken record, because over the course of the time that you’ve been friends with Natasha, you’ve had this conversation with her several times. Sometimes, you wondered why she was so hellbent on you losing your virginity.

As much as you loved her and understood her intentions with the question, you were getting tired of having to defend yourself every time.

“I- I know! I just… I want you to be happy, with whoever you want. I never want you to think I’m rushing you though, Y/N. I love you.” Natasha explains, putting her hand on your arm in consolation.

“I know, Nat. But trust me, you’ll be the first to know when I do… do it. Don’t worry.” You laugh at how ridiculous you sounded.

She’s looking back down at her bed now, looking between the outfits she was holding earlier.

“Okay… now, help me pick an outfit! Sam wants to go on a date tonight!” She says, showing you the different options.

As you two banter and talk about last night, you interrupt Natasha’s tirade about Sam and ‘what a gentleman he is!’

“Bucky gave me his number earlier.” Saying it out loud makes it sound all the more ridiculous. You feel like a high-schooler at your words, and the way Natasha stops all movement makes you feel all the more insane.

“His number?” She asks, like she couldn’t figure out what to really say.

“Yeah. He even saved a heart next to his name in my phone. What does that even mean?” You wonder out loud, and now you’re sure you’ve gone crazy.

“I… I’m not sure. I think he likes you.” She says nonchalantly, and you scoff.

“Yeah, because Bucky Barnes is very interested in a girl he met last night who didn’t want to sleep with him. He must be going crazy over a girl like me.” You finish with an incredulous laugh, like it never even crossed your mind that he could like you.

“Well… he acted very different from you’ve been telling me. He usually just fucks a girl and she leaves the next morning, nothing more, nothing less. The fact that he didn’t fuck you and took you out to brunch says a lot about this whole situation.” She explains, and you’re still having a hard time grasping this information.

Just as you’re about to find a rationale as to why her explanation isn’t plausible, you feel your phone buzz.

With furrowed brows, you open your texts.

Bucky Barnes <3:

(2:01 PM) Hey doll, do you wanna come by to another party we’re having tonight? Could use my trusty pong champ ;)

Your mouth dries at the message, words lodged in your throat.

“Look what he just texted me.” You flip your screen to Nat and she reads with an unreadable expression, which quickly turns into her brows shooting up.

“A winky face! Y/N/N, he fucking likes you! He wants to see you again!” She exclaims, and you don’t even know what to say.

“How do I respond?” You feel so unexperienced, asking your roommate for advice on how to text a guy.

“Here, gimme,” she snatches the phone out of your grasp, quickly typing something and handing the phone back to you.

You read what she sent with wide eyes.

Y/N Y/L/N:

(2:11 PM) I’ll be there ;) Should I bring clothes to change into for tonight?

“Nat! Why would you say that? You’re making it sound like I wanna have sex with him tonight!” You rise up from your spot on her bed in a panic, pacing the area of your small room.

“Y/N, relax! He-” Before she could finish, your phone buzzed again.

Bucky Barnes <3

(2:13 PM) Hilarious, doll. You don’t have to, but if you wanna crash here again tonight, you can definitely bring your own stuff if that makes you more comfy :)

“Oh my God. He’s so sweet!” Nat giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “You have to go now!”

“Nat… doesn’t this look a little… suspicious? From what I’ve heard, this isn’t how he usually acts.” You say wearily, the worry clear in your tone.

“Y/N, look at me.” Natasha's hands come to the sides of your head, urging your gaze to meet hers. “You’re a great girl. You deserve someone who treats you well and gets excited to see you, like Bucky is right now. Don’t push him away. You deserve something good.”

At her words, your eyes soften and you feel the distant sting of tears behind your eyes. You give her a nod, not knowing how to express your gratitude to her in words at the moment. She pulls you into a hug and you hold her tight against you, like she might disappear if you let go.

“Now, we need to get you ready for tonight. You’re gonna make Bucky wish he fucked you.” Natasha smirks an evil one.

“Nat!”

-

The party was in full swing upon your arrival. You were all alone when you walked through the doors of the fraternity house, as Natasha had gone on her dinner date with Sam. She’d promised she’d come by after dinner, and you were practically shaking while searching for Bucky in the packed house.

There were people everywhere, and the longer it took for you to find Bucky, the more anxious you were becoming about being here.

“Y/N!” You hear distantly, and your head whips around in search of the owner of the voice.

You feel a hand slide around your waist, and you smell Bucky before you see him. If it weren’t for the distinct smell of his cologne and mint, you would’ve slapped the hand away long ago.

“Hey! Been wonderin’ when you’d show up.” Bucky has a smile on his face, showing off his pearly whites.

“Sorry, I got held up at home with Natasha.” You tell him, looking around at the crowd. You could feel your breathing shorten at the sheer amount of people around you, and your stomach churns in anxiety.

As if Bucky senses your discomfort, he rubs the hand on your waist along the expanse of your back.

“You okay?” He asks, visibly concerned at your demeanor.

You nod wordlessly, trying to make it seem like you weren’t extremely stressed right now. You would’ve loved to let loose tonight, but yesterday was already pushing it in terms of going out.

“Do you wanna head upstairs?” Bucky asks in clear concern at your demeanor right now. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. If he knew just how much you were going to become uncomfortable by just being here tonight, he wouldn’t have asked you to come. He would’ve simply asked you on a date, or done a night in with you.

You nod again, not allowing the words to leave your throat. You feel as though your mouth is full of cotton, not even being able to form any coherent thoughts at the moment.

Bucky’s cool metal arm guides you by your lower back to the stairs, and you’re once again reminded of the previous night. His cool metal hand is the only thing grounding you at the moment, and you think you would’ve ended up on the dirty bathroom floor downstairs in a puddle of tears if Bucky had taken any longer to find you.

You pass through his doorway, and Bucky’s arm is holding you against him as the door shuts behind you two.

He wordlessly caresses you, running a soothing hand up and down your back, which is partially open because of your outfit. You’re wearing a dress from Natasha’s closet, which she claimed made you look ‘hotter than the motherfucking sun, Y/N’, and you were basically forced into.

“For what it’s worth, honey, you look stunning tonight.” You feel Bucky’s chest rumble from his speaking from where you’re placed against him, and you give a light laugh.

“Thanks,” you return quietly, unable to really come up with anything witty to say. “I’m sorry I’m ruining tonight for you.” Your voice comes after a few moments of silence, but suddenly you’re pulled away from his body.

“Hey,” his hands are on your shoulders, “you are not ruining anything, doll. Parties ’ll come and go, but I don’t want to do it if it isn’t with you.” He tells you in earnest, and you feel an indistinguishable ache in your chest at his words.

Where did this man come from? It seems as though the perfect guy, one who respects you, one who doesn’t force you into anything, one who seems to care too much about you has just... fallen into your lap.

It almost seems too good to be true.

“Bucky…” You trail off, unable to find any words of gratitude at the moment.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can we just… lay down? Maybe watch a movie?” You ask.

“Of course we can, honey. Anythin’ you want.” He smiles brightly again as your mood seems to lighten a bit. “Do you need a change of clothes?”

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.” You can’t really bring yourself to look at him. You feel embarrassed that you’ve pulled him away from his own party. Although he constantly reassures you that he doesn’t mind, you’re still bashful.

“Here, honey,” he hands you the same garments from last night, “you look good in these.” He laughs, and you feel your cheeks turn bright red.

“I- I’ll be right back.” You give a tight smile and retreat to the bathroom.

While Bucky waits outside, he begins to get lost in his thoughts. He liked you. A lot. How did he get himself into this mess? He’s not stupid. He knows what he did to get here. And now it was looking really, really, stupid.

Unfortunately, there was no getting it out of it now, though. He could try and reason with the person he’d made a promise to, but he was stubborn. There was little to no chance he would be able to get out of this one.

But he thinks of it on the flip side. He’s been seen bringing you up to his room two nights in a row, and he knows how it makes both of you look.

For him, he looks like he’s keeping up with reputation.

Take a girl home.

Fuck her.

Leave it at that.

No one quite knew you on campus except for your friends, so they weren’t worried about you or who you were.

All that mattered was that Bucky Barnes was keeping up with his usual antics that were expected of him. There was nothing out of the ordinary for him, other than the fact that he wasn’t actually fucking you.

Bucky snaps out of his train of thought when he hears the bathroom door click open, his eyes meeting yours once again.

But his eyes quickly divert to your body, once again covered by his baggy clothing. You were watching his stare move down your body and felt a wave of insecurity wash over you.

You probably weren’t half as gorgeous as the girls he’s brought back here before. You knew what kind of girls guys like him preferred. Long, cascading hair, big, bright eyes, thin waists, legs that went on for what seemed like miles.

You just weren’t that.

It made you come back to the thoughts that had plagued your mind previously.

Where did Bucky’s interest in you come from?

Why was he suddenly feel the need to coddle you, take care of you, to reassure you?

Your concern was quickly washed away when Bucky settled in his bed, patting his spot next to him under the covers.

“You comin’?” He asks in a raspy, quiet voice that makes your knees wobble.

You don’t say anything while you situate yourself beside him.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” You begin meekly, not making eye contact with him.

“Anythin’, doll. Somethin’ wrong?” He looks down at you in a worried gaze, and you shake your head.

“I just… what made you want to approach me? I- I know I’m not like those other girls you’ve been with before, and I can’t help but think that you… you want something else from me?” You explain with little ease. You feel bile rising in your throat as you speak because you can’t bear to think that Bucky really ulterior motives for all this time you’ve spent together.

You’ve only just met him, yet you feel like you’ve known him forever. You’re comfortable with him, more than you usually would be with a stranger, and it freaks you out.

“Y/N… can you look at me?” Bucky tilts his head down to try and meet your eyes, which is something you can barely do at the moment. “I want you to know, before this goes anywhere else; you are an amazing girl. I don’t know why it took me so long to talk to you, but I think you’re one the most genuine, kind, beautiful girls I’ve ever met. I… I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but you… you’re different.” He speaks so genuinely to you that you feel a slight sting behind your eyes.

“I… I never want you to doubt yourself ever again, doll. You’re perfect, just as you are. I’m sorry it looked like I was after anything else before.” Bucky finishes, and you can’t seem to find any words at the moment.

You just nod fervently, and then you feel yourself being pulled into Bucky’s large arms.

“Please, don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself again. You’re worth it.”

That night, you fall into the most comfortable and deep sleep of your life, wrapped safely in Bucky’s arms.

[perspective-series]

Werewolf Perspective (7/10)

By @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Injury, slight fear and panic, and blood.

(Check the reblog for links to the previous chapters!)

———————————————————————————————

 Roman took a deep breath before transforming into his giant form. He groaned in pain as the shifting caused his shoulder to sting. He gripped at it the second he had hands again, seeing how much it was bleeding. “I’m fine. But what about you? Are you okay?” He didn’t seem hurt but Roman just wanted to be sure.

“I, yes, yes I’m fine,” Logan assured him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Here Roman was, bleeding out, and yet still his first instinct was to check Logan’s well-being. “But Roman, you’re bleeding, we need to do something about-” Logan’s head snapped around, hearing a frantic rustling in the bushes. He tensed, watching another figure dash into the clearing.

“Roman!” Virgil exclaimed, dashing over to Roman’s side in a heartbeat with Patton still clutched to his chest. “By the gods, what the hell happened?” The instant Roman had transformed back Virgil had gotten a whiff of Roman’s wound and hightailed it faster.

 “Wha-Virgil? What are you doing out here?” Roman asked, still clutching his shoulder. Immediately though, he noticed the human in Virgil’s hands and froze. “Uhh...who is that?”

 Patton tensed a little as he saw the other giant looking at him. “Um...hi.” He waved a little.

Virgil paused, looking down at Patton briefly. “...that’s not important.”

“What? Patton?” Logan’s jaw dropped, shocked to see his best friend here, in Virgil’s clutches no less. “How on earth did you get here?”

“That’s also not important.” Virgil insisted.

 “Logan?” Patton looked down at the sound of Logan’s voice and grinned. “Logan! There you are!” 

 Roman blinked at the other human, looking down at Logan. “You...know him?”

“He’s my housemate.” Logan nodded, almost in a trance. This was like some strange dream.

“Roman, you’re bleeding.” Virgil reminded him, noticing he seemed to be the only rational one right now. He carefully draped Roman’s good arm around his shoulders, intent on helping him up. “We can exchange pleasantries later.”

 Roman grunted in slight pain but sighed. “Alright, just let me…” He reached down and grabbed Logan, holding him carefully against his chest.

Virgil rolled his eyes only slightly, before remembering Patton in his own hands. “...sorry about this.” He muttered, before once again grabbing Patton with his teeth.

 Patton let out a little squeak but otherwise didn’t do much else. He didn’t want to drop after all. Roman, seeing this, raised an eyebrow in Virgil’s direction.

“Thut up.” Virgil’s words were muffled by Patton’s presence as he stood up, using both hands to keep Roman steady and help him forwards.

“Careful!” Logan warned, watching nervously at the way Patton dangled.

 “It’s okay Lo! Virgil won’t, uh, drop me.” He hoped. He hadn’t before, at least.

Virgil nodded very slightly, careful not to jostle Patton too much. With Virgil’s assistance, both werewolves slowly walked home, and Virgil helped Roman upstairs into bed.

 “Really, I’m fine,” Roman grunted as he was put into bed, he shifted his grip around Logan as he sat against the headboard to look at Virgil.

Virgil reached up, taking Patton out of his mouth so he could talk. “You’re not fine.” Virgil insisted, leaning closer to inspect the wound. He sniffed it cautiously, then reeled back.

“What is it?” Logan asked, worried by his reaction.

“It’s poisoned.” Virgil’s eyes widened. “Where were you?”

 “P-Poisoned?!” Patton exclaimed, eyes wide. Despite not knowing Roman all that well, he didn’t want the werewolf to die!

 Roman shifted slightly. “We...we were in the naga’s territory, trying to find some scales,” Roman admitted.

“What the hell were you thinking!” Virgil scolded. 

“It...it was my fault,” Logan admitted.

“Yeah, no duh.” Virgil sneered, glaring down at Logan. “I knew humans are nothing but trouble.”

 “Hey!” Roman growled at Virgil. “I was the one who said it was fine. So leave Logan alone.” Roman huffed and then looked towards Patton. “Besides, you’re hardly one to talk.”

 Patton couldn’t help but flinch back at Roman’s growl and gaze.

“...Patton’s different.” Virgil muttered, holding Patton closer to himself.

“Look, I think I can help,” Logan assured them, desperate to diffuse the tensions between two giant werewolves. “Roman, do you remember what I was telling you about the spring of avawren?”

 Roman blinked, turning to look at Logan. He lifted his hand a bit higher, so they could all see him. “Yes, the river in our backyard with the magical healing properties, correct?”

“If I meld it with the proper ingredients, it should contain enough healing magic to clear your wound.” Logan hypothesized. “I would just need to gather my equipment from my lab back home.”

 “Oh! That’s so cool!” Patton exclaimed. But when Roman let out a low whine, his attention was turned towards the giant.

 “But it’s dangerous for you to go back home all by yourself! And I can’t exactly go with you.” Not to mention, the thought of Logan going home, even for a few hours, made Roman sad.

Virgil looked back and forth, thinking hard before he let out an irritated sigh. “...I can take him.” 

“What?” Logan turned to look at him, confused.

“Don’t think I’m doing this for you.” Virgil glared at the human in Roman’s hands. “If you can really help Roman, me taking you will be fastest.”

 Roman perked up at that. “You would really do that Virgil?” Roman asked, before grinning. “Aww, you really do care.” He teased.

“Yeah, yeah.” Virgil tried to act aloof to the comment, but the way his tail perked up at his packmate’s praise betrayed him. “The only way you’re dying in this house is at my hands after you take my food one too many times.” 

 Roman chuckled at that and Patton was happy to see them getting along. “Wait, so, should I go with you guys?” Patton asked, looking up at Virgil.

“Uh….” Virgil looked down at Patton in his hands. If he took Patton to the human village, would he want to stay there? Would he not want to come back? Would Virgil never see him again?

...but wasn’t that the plan?

Virgil cursed himself, but he knew that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet, at least. He could figure that out after Roman stopped bleeding out.

“No, you should stay here,” Virgil instructed, setting Patton down on the bedside table. “Keep Roman company and all that. Dude’s a howler when left alone for two seconds.”

 “Hey! I am not.” Roman huffed but he would admit he was glad for the company. He looked down at Logan in his hands and after much hesitation, he handed him over to Virgil. “Here. Just make sure nothing happens to him.”

“No promises,” Virgil smirked. 

 Roman narrowed his eyes at his packmate. “Virgil…”

“Fine, I’ll bring him back in one piece.” Virgil sighed. 

 “You better.” Roman let out a little growl as he said this but quickly composed himself. “Well, have fun you two. I’ll make sure I look after Patton for ya.” He turned to Patton to give him a smile and Patton gave him a more nervous one back. Roman didn’t seem that bad just very...passionate.

“Play nice.” Virgil looked at Roman pointedly. “No roughhousing, okay? Patton better be in one piece too.”

Logan frowned, glancing up at Virgil. Didn’t Virgil loathe humans?

 Roman raised an eyebrow. “And why do you care?” Roman asked, genuinely curious.

 Meanwhile, Patton was smiling up at Virgil. He was happy to see Virgil caring about him.

“Uh, no reason.” Virgil began to inch towards the doorway. “I just meant no rough housing because I don’t want you to hurt your shoulder more.” He paused. “But also you touch Patton and you’re dead.” Before he could be questioned further, Virgil bolted out of the room with Logan in hand. He certainly wasn’t being very subtle, but at the same time, this stupid bond kept forcing him to say something to make sure Patton would be alright. 

 Roman blinked as Virgil left in a hurry. “What on earth is up with him,” Roman muttered to himself and then turned back to Patton. “Honestly though, I’m surprised you’re even still alive.”

 Patton blinked. “Uh, why wouldn’t I be?” Was it because of him walking through the forest by himself thing?

 Roman snorted. “Um, because Virgil kind of hates everyone other than me. Especially humans.” Patton’s eyes widened at that.

 “I-I mean, Virgil was mean to me at first but he seemed to open up fairly quickly.” Patton giggled as he thought back on it. “We even had a tickle fight!”

 Roman’s eyes widened. That...That didn’t sound like Virgil at all. Again, there was something up with Virgil. Though, what, Roman couldn’t pinpoint. “Well, you are very lucky then.”

 It was silent between them for a few moments. “So...are you really okay? I mean, you were poisoned.” Patton asked, breaking the silence. Roman bit his lip.

 “Honestly? It feels like my shoulder is on fire.” Roman let out a humorless chuckle. “I just did not want my packmates to see me in pain.”

 Patton supposed he could see that but he was confused when he caught Roman using the plural form of packmate. “Wait, packmates? But Virgil told me you only had each other.”

 Roman’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Uh, yes! Sorry, of course, it was just a slip of the tongue.” Roman laughed nervously.

 “...Was it?” Patton asked, knowing that this reaction was weird, despite not knowing Roman all that well. Roman turned to look at Patton for a moment before sighing. 

 “No...Alright look, you can not tell Logan or Virgil about this. Can you promise me?” Roman asked and Patton nodded, wanting to know what Roman was gonna say. The giant took in a deep breath. “I may have...bonded with Logan.”

 “...What?” Patton asked, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, you, like how you and Virgil are bonded?” Roman nodded. “How?” Patton asked.

 Roman shrugged. “I’m really not sure.” He thought back on it, realizing he had felt this way the moment he had laid eyes on Logan. “Though, there is such a thing as bond at first sight.” Roman remembered. That must have been what had happened.

 “Oh, well...what does that mean exactly? For the uh...future?” Patton asked, curious to know what Roman had planned.

 But Roman had nothing planned. “I have no idea. I’m not even sure if I should tell them…” Roman trailed off at that. The thing was, he didn’t want Logan to leave but he couldn’t just force him to stay...could he?

 “You won’t tell them though, right?” Roman asked, leaning a bit more towards Patton, causing Patton to lean back in turn. “They can’t know, not yet.”

 Patton bit his lip. He hated lying but this seemed really important to Roman. “...Okay. I won’t tell them. But you really should tell them eventually.” Roman let out a large sigh of relief.

 “Thank you, Patton.” Roman sent him a smile. “So uh, what are you doing here, anyway?” Roman couldn’t help but ask.

 “Oh! Well, when Logan didn’t come back I decided to come and look for him. I’m glad to see he was in safe hands.” Patton giggled. It seemed Roman had protected Logan, after all. 

 Roman grinned. “Well of course! I would never let anything happen to Logan.” Roman watched as Patton’s face scrunched up as he smiled. Making him look even cuter.

 “Aww, that’s very sweet of you Roman!” Patton exclaimed. “I definitely believe it too. After all, you even got poisoned for him! Logan is in good hands.” Patton said again, making his point clear.

 Roman couldn’t help but just watch Patton. He looked so happy, giggling and smiling like that. Believing that he was good. Roman felt a familiar feeling well up in him.

 Roman’s smile slowly fell from his face.

 Oh no. Not again.

 Patton noticed Roman’s change in demeanor. “Roman? What’s wrong?”

 “Nothing! Well, uh, my wound is hurting just a bit, but I’m fine!” Roman semi-lied. Since his wound was in fact hurting again. Patton frowned.

 “Well, hopefully they’ll get here soon.” Patton said, eyes looking toward the window and to the outside. He hoped the two could get along enough for this.

[horseluvr00-ff]

A Place to Call Home | Chapter 34

Masterlist Here

Rating: T+

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/family | kidnapping, violence, strong language.

Story summary: It’s been a few months since the Battle of New York. Steve Rogers is acclimating to life when he crosses paths with teenager Katelyn Sanders, a SHIELD recruit and highly valued asset with a dark past. Follow Kate’s adventure from SHIELD asset to Avenger to wanted fugitive over the course of her youth and into adulthood with her Avenging family. Follows Infinity Saga and beyond.

Words: 7,208

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Marvel/Disney. My OC Katelyn Sanders, as well as a few other unaffiliated things within this fanfic are of my own creation.

Author Note: Relogs are welcome and appreciated :) Please no plagiarism or reposts on other platforms. Updates occur weekly on Fridays, however posts on Tumblr usually occur Saturdays.

Full story available on FFN and A03 here and here

Chapter 34 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3 in full.

Check out a portion of Chapter 34 below:

It's late in the evening, and Kate is out wandering the streets.

While one could argue it was more dangerous than walking around during the day when people were out and about - for Kate - the desertedness of the city made it easier to spot threats. The overwhelming nature of the day, when hundreds of thousands of people roamed the streets, it was difficult for Kate to focus. Walking around late at night however, with fewer people present, brought about a certain clarity.

While Kate's ability granted her many talents, it also made her hyper aware of a whole magnitude of things. Things most people didn't notice or perhaps didn't even have the courage to confront.

Picking up dinner with Clint earlier that day - Kate hadn't planned on doing anything out of the ordinary. Waiting for the agent to return from the restaurant with their takeout was the plan… Until she heard it.

An individual yelling out, proclaiming someone had taken their backpack. Attention already peaked; Kate had found herself pushing off the wall, heading down the sidewalk towards the closest alley before feeling her senses heighten. The sound bounced off walls and channeled her way. As if she had a sort of psychic map in her mind, Kate picked up a jog, making her way through the small maze of alleys until she heard the sound of heavy breathing pick up.

Breaking into a short run, Kate made her way around the corner, gauging her point of impact before running round the corner, left arm extended out she slammed it into an individual's chest, causing their feet to fly out before they hit the ground with a pained grunt-like yell.

Picking up the backpack, Kate had watched as the individual, looking only a few years older than herself, had quickly gotten up and ran away, more fearful than she had originally anticipated.

The whole ordeal had been over as quickly as it had started. The individual that had called out regarding their stolen property eventually ran up to her and Kate returned the property, mentioning that the one who had taken it had dropped it. No need to gloat.

Kate had made her way back to the restaurant quickly, hoping she hadn't been missed, only to see Clint on the phone and looking somewhat nervous.

Yeah, that hadn't been the greatest moment. Especially after Steve's reaction when they got back to the Tower.

Hands deep in her hoodie pockets, Kate continues to walk down the mostly empty sidewalk dimly lit by streetlights. There weren't many people out. The majority of them didn't look all that menacing, but her senses made clear which people projected ill-intent and which didn't. Raised heart rates and tense muscles were prominent in most of the individuals she passed, as if they thought they'd get caught any moment.

While her better judgment told her this wasn't smart, she also couldn't really remember a time when she did something like this. The last time she was "normal" she was probably seven years old. The amount of freedom people her age had- she didn't know… However she felt capable enough to be out here… looking for trouble to stop.

She tried not to dwell on that fact too much - the fact that she was out here late at night looking for trouble - some kind of bad to stop.

Turning down a different block, Kate keeps her eyes ahead but somewhat low on the sidewalk. She could feel eyes turn towards her as she passed people here and there. Pulling her hood over her head, Kate continues on her way.

Aside from the thundercloud over her head telling her she was asking for trouble, the city was somewhat comforting at night. It might be her subconscious understanding that she could handle any individual who may approach her with ill intent, but regardless of the fact, she felt a sense of ease walking down the street, the cold air soothing her.

A string of angered curses suddenly pulls Kate from her thoughts and her eyes snap upwards. Coming to a corner, she looks down the sidewalk seeing two people disappear into one of the alleyways.

"I- said no," A female voice; agitated.

Clenching and unclenching her hands in her pockets, Kate begins making her way down the sidewalk before slowing at the corner of the alleyway where the two people now where.

"You don't seem to understand that me telling you no at work, and me telling you no now, hasn't changed anything-" The woman's fist was curled up tightly, the man in front of her holding her wrist tight enough that she couldn't pull it away, but loose enough that he wasn't trying to fully restrain her.

"I paid you double, you owe me more than a private sh- Can I help you?"

Kate tilts her head lightly, the man now looking over his shoulder expectantly while eyeing her impatiently.

Kate's eyes move between him and the woman momentarily before the woman rips her wrist from his grasp and begins walking towards Kate, and then out onto the sidewalk. Her expression was one of annoyance and frustration but her heart rate gave away how fearful she was as she picked up a quick pace down the sidewalk.

The man was stationary momentarily, the tenseness to his body obvious - ability or not.

Cursing under his breath, he begins walking in the same direction the woman had, going to pass Kate and head down the sidewalk. He intentionally knocks her shoulder with his own as he passes her, causing her to step back a hair before turning to look over her shoulder.

There were certain aspects to her ability that made things not usually visible, known to her. Certain factors helped her to anticipate behavior. Muscle tension, walking pace, expression, even smell by means of odor changes. Fear, anger, and happiness can cause chemical changes related that give off different odors. For example, when someone is afraid, they may sweat, which gives off a distinct odor she can associate accordingly.

Turning on her heel, Kate picks up her walking pace to follow the man.

~0~

A Few Hours Later…

For Tony, sleeping was something becoming harder and harder to come by. It wasn't that he had… trouble. He just had a lot of energy. And ideas and random thoughts would also hit him at odd hours of the night, thoughts he had to act on in case he forgot them in the morning.

He had promised Pepper to give the workshop a break. While he was doing that- she never said he couldn't hangout on the communal floor doing what he most likely would've done in the workshop.

"Jarvis, how's it looking?" Tony questions, the only light in the area coming off the tablet in his hands.

"Diagnostics have been run, sir. Trials are ready whenever you see fit." The AI responds.

Tony chews on his bottom lip lightly for a moment, eyes searching the screen as he looks over the image present.

It was something he had been working on as a side project. Something for Kate. With the kid being around for the foreseeable future, he figured finding something they can work on aside from her ability would be beneficial.

She was an interesting character, Tony had to admit. He usually didn't let much visibly surprise him, but she was a curious individual and he was looking forward to getting her out of her shell. There were certain moments or situations where Kate would surprise him, give someone sass or show a confidence he suspected lurked just beneath the surface - something she didn't reveal very often.

"Sir, Katelyn Sanders is about to get off the elevator."

Tony's brow knits as he looks over his shoulder, eyes meeting the closed elevator doors before he swipes the images on his tablet aside.

"Where's she coming from?"

"The lobby, sir."

"... Uh huh." Tony's lips part slightly as he processes the statement.

This wasn't the first time Jarvis had informed him. Whatever it was the kid was doing - going out at night, she seemed to be coming back alright. It wasn't his place to necessarily scold her for her actions.

The ding of the elevator finally opens and Tony doesn't acknowledge the movement of someone walking out of the space before stopping. In the following seconds, Kate goes to disappear back into the elevator.

"Goin so soon?" Tony speaks up, tapping about on the tablet screen. "You're out kind of late, kid… Three a.m.? Good thing I was down here and not your pops."

A gentle scold… a suggestive scold; not a full on scold.

"I was jus-... I wanted to get some air" Kate responds. She sounded a bit closer.

"Could've gotten some on the balcony," Tony turns and eyes the teen with an amused smirk. She appeared anxious but accepting of the situation.

"Regardless of whatever this is I am now a part of; just make sure you don't do anything rash on these little adventures you're taking." Voice laced with a hint of concern, Tony continues to eye the teen, seeing her gaze elsewhere.

"Adventures? Plural?" Despite her controlled expression, Tony can hear the amusement in her voice and gives a little chuckle before nodding to the side.

"Well you looked like a zombie this morning, and we only watched that show til around ten," Tony offers.

At his comment, Kate clenches her jaw and takes a couple steps to the side, blocking his view of her face as she crosses her arms.

Alright, m'probably pushing her a little too much.

"I won't pester you, go get some rest Kenai."

Tony may or may not have a small list of nickname ideas for the kid. Nicknames for her weren't coming as easily to him. T-1000 was the next one that came to mind but… Calling the kid a terminator wasn't appropriate. Especially now that he knows more about her. Those details… Made his skin crawl. When he looked at Katelyn, he didn't see someone capable of racking up a body count greater than two dozen.

Hearing the teen question the nickname, Tony blinks his thoughts away quickly before giving her an amused smile and a shrug - brow knitting seconds later.

"You haven't seen Brother Bear? Bah- we'll get you caught up, don't worry. For now I gotta keep thinking of some nicknames for you." Tony mumbles, eyes still on the tablet.

Preferably ones that don't label you a killing machine… Unfortunately something I don't think it too far off from what that Doctor Gordon was trying to turn you into.

Kate is silent following Tony's words, but doesn't wait too long to head towards the stairwell.

Once the door closes, Tony lets the tablet fall into his lap, brow knitting gently.

"Jarvis, I need you to scope security cameras within a five block radius. I wanna know where's she's been going and what she's been doing,"

"Will do, sir."

The rest of chapter 34 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3. Take a peak to keep reading!

Stay healthy, stay safe, sending lots of love. <3

Masterlist Here

[freddiesaysalright]

Catching Up Part IX

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.

Word Count: 2.7K

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam @grandaddy-roger-trash @rogerloveshiscar @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @danamaleksworld @mrsmazzello @reedusteinrambles @rexorangecouny @caborhapch @kurt-nightcrawler @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @queendeakyy @hotttspace @anxious-diabetic @someone-get-a-medic  If you want to be added, let me know!

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V

Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII

A/N: No worries, things are cheering up in this one :)

Part IX here we go!

That night was one you long considered one of the worst of your life. No matter what Joe tried, you couldn’t move past the anxiety and humiliation of what Nick had done. You knew you had to settle your heart rate, but nothing helped. And you couldn’t take anything because most medication wasn’t safe for the baby. Joe just held you as your body heaved with sobs. You stayed awake the whole night, crying and agonizing over where to go from here. When day broke again, you were still an absolute mess.

Joe urged you to go forward pressing charges, and he suggested adding this to the list. But you weren’t sure. You hardly felt like leaving your apartment, much less like confronting the man who’d done this. It was going to take so much of you and you weren’t sure you could handle it. It felt like too much. It was all too big and you were so small.

“If this happened to our child,” Joe said. “What would you want them to do?”

You had to stop and take another breath. The thought of anyone doing something like this to your baby made you so mad you spit nails, but you considered it. You would want your son or daughter to tell the Nicks in their lives to get fucked, and do everything in their power to put them away.

“I’d want them to press charges,” you said. “That is if I hadn’t already killed the person responsible.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope we never face that. I’d miss you if you went to prison.”

You giggled, and finally, your body began to ease. You were backing slowly away from the edge now, Joe at your side, ever the comfort.

“I really have to do this, huh?” you wondered.

Joe nodded. “You can do it, baby. You’ve already come so far. You faced him at the precinct, and you can face him again. Pictures be damned.”

“I’m really scared,” you admitted.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” he assured you. “I’ll be there. Christy will be there. And of course little Baby will be with you.”

Your mouth turned upward in a small smile as you looked down at your little bump. “I’m gonna be strong for you, little one.”

“I love that you talk to him,” Joe said. “I think that’s so sweet.”

“I feel like it makes me a little bit crazy,” you returned.

“You’re not crazy,” he said. “You’re amazing.”

You knew he was talking about more than just the baby. You leaned into him and you actually started to feel drowsy now that you were calmed down.

“I feel so lucky,” you said as you closed your eyes.

“You do?” he questioned.

“To have found you again,” you explained. “That through all of this, I have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replied. “That out of everyone in the world, I found the one girl I never stopped thinking about. And now we’re having a baby together.”

You smiled, unable to ward off sleep any longer. As the sun lit up the room, you and Joe found your rest in each other.

When you turned up at work on Monday, Don immediately called you into his office. Nervous, you sat down across from him. He looked so serious. Not in his usual way, either. If you didn’t know any better, you would have guessed he was going to tell you that someone died. You waited for him to speak.

“So, over the weekend, I received some photographs,” he said.

Your head fell forward as a wave of embarrassment came over you. Taking a deep breath, you told Don everything. He listened carefully, trying to understand the situation. When you finished, you tried to gauge his reaction, but his expression was difficult to read. For a moment, you expected him to dismiss you. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Y/N,” he began, and you were surprised by the gentleness of his tone. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. If there is anything I or the company can do to help you through this let me know. Our legal team is excellent, and I’ll speak to them about protections for you.”

You gaped at him, stunned. When Nick did this the first time, your boss fired you immediately. It was why you wrote under a byline now. Now Don - who was usually kind of an asshole - was offering understanding and support.

“You’re being...awfully gracious about this,” you said.

“I did a story a few years ago on revenge porn,” he told you. “I saw first hand the effects of it. Now I understand your thing with cameras. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I won’t ask you to do that again.”

“Don…”

“Don’t thank me or anything,” he said. “Just give him hell in court on Thursday, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, okay.”

All too soon, the day was upon you. The first court date. Part of you hoped that Nick wouldn’t show up. If it were only up to him, you knew he wouldn’t, but his mother paid his bail, so she would ensure he went so she wouldn’t be stuck with the cost. The prosecutor approached you and went over what you would need to do. It wasn’t much. Just tell your story. It helped that since he’d left jail, he got an armed robbery charge added to his rap sheet, so the indictment would be pretty easy. Joe and Christy squeezed your hands with encouragement.

Your stomach turned, but not in a way you were familiar with. It wasn’t even really your stomach. It was the baby. You gasped at the sensation of it moving around. Joe and Christy exchanged worried glances.

“Joe, feel,” you said, putting his hand there. You applied some pressure.

“Holy shit” he gasped. “The baby’s already moving?”

You nodded. “I’ve never felt it before…”

He laughed with joy and it took all your willpower not to kiss him. But the moment was stolen when the prosecutor called you inside.

It went like the prosecutor said. It took a couple hours and was mostly waiting. But he secured the indictment and there would be another court date in the fall unless Nick took a plea bargain. He didn’t seem interested in that, but for now, he was returning to jail to wait. You felt a little safer. Thankfully, throughout the process, he didn’t try to talk to you. He acted like you weren’t even in the room. You were grateful. You still had nightmares about the way he screamed at you that day, and the cold shoulder was preferred. He did shoot Christy a few glares across the room though. She very subtly flipped him off.

When it was over, you felt a little better, but you didn’t look forward to going through this again and in front of a jury. For now though, you could relax. The weight was lifted for the moment.

“I’m proud of you,” Joe said, kissing your cheek as you walked out of the courthouse.

“It’s just the first step,” you replied. “I feel like there’s still all this way to go.”

“But you did it,” Christy said. “I’m going to meet my sweetie for some food. You guys wanna join us?”

You shook your head. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

She gave you and Joe hugs as she said goodbye. Then she bent down to speak to your tummy.

“Bye, Baby!” she cooed.

With a final wave, she walked to her waiting Uber. You and Joe made your way to your car. He held your door open and then got in the driver’s seat. You sighed. You were ready to sleep, even though it was early evening.

“We have one stop I wanna make before going back to your place,” Joe said.

“Where’s that?” you wondered.

“Our house,” he told you. “I got the keys while you were at work yesterday.”

“Really?” you gasped. “It’s ready?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. I know we have a lot of time since your lease isn’t up until August, but I want you to see it.”

You smiled lazily. “I want to see it. Take my mind off of all of this.”

He took your hand he drove out there. You didn’t talk for most of the ride because you were so tired. You closed your eyes, the city disappearing behind your lids, and dozed. Joe woke you when he pulled into the little driveway of your house. It was a beautiful brick residence, with a white front door and a cast iron railing going up the porch steps.

“I love it,” you said.

He chuckled. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”

He helped you out of the car and together you walked inside. The inside was equally stunning. Hard wood floors gleamed in the light. The kitchen counters - which were granite - sparkled and shined. The windows were large, so plenty of natural light got into each room. He took you upstairs and showed you the master bedroom, which was a great size. It had two more bedrooms of smaller sizes, but were also charming.

“I figured those could be the kids’ rooms,” he said as he led you around.

“Kids?” you questioned. “Plural?”

“Well, we’re gonna have more, right?” he said.

“I guess so,” you returned playfully. “But let’s focus on the first one.”

“I am!” he insisted. “I just...I dunno, I think about our future a lot.”

“How many do you want?” you asked.

“Two would be perfect,” he told you. “A boy and a girl. And we’d have a dog too - a golden retriever since they’re so gentle, y’know? This place is great since there’s a small yard, but there’s also a park down the road. There’s a spare room downstairs I figured could be a guest room for when the grandparents or Christy visit.”

You giggled. As you looked around the house, you saw it too. The life you could build with Joe. In this house. It all came together around you. You imagined the family photos on the walls. How it might look decorated for Christmas. The kids running down the hall, laughing.

“Joe, it’s perfect,” you said.

“Think about this,” he told you. “When you’re feeling overwhelmed. Remember what you’re picturing now, and focus on that.” He cradled your face in his hands and kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he returned holding you close now.

You stood in the second floor hallway, holding each other. This ordeal with Nick was a passing thing. Joe, and everything he had given you, that was forever. You would hold on to that.

Summer pressed on, and your belly grew even more. Joe left two more times in the five weeks before the doctor’s appointment where you would find out the sex of the baby. He promised he would be there for that. In the meantime, you began packing up your apartment. Christy was supportive, and told you that she and her boyfriend were discussing living together, so the timing was actually perfect. She did say she would come over plenty to see the baby. It was the end of an era for you both, but you were excited for the new things in each other’s lives.

You also worked on taking pictures of yourself. You really liked Snapchat because the pictures were deleted after opening and that made you more comfortable. Although, Joe frequently got screenshots of your silliest faces. You got him back, but his Snapchats were so often hilarious, you had to stop or you’d run out of space on your phone.

You were also monitoring your growth each week. You took those pictures just for you, but you showed them to Joe when he was in town. He was astounded by it, even though the changes were minimal right now. He also made sure to tell you how beautiful he found you.

Finally, twenty weeks came. You were so ready to discover the sex, although you guessed it was a boy. Christy thought it was a girl. Joe said he hoped it was a boy, but only because you already had a name picked out for a boy, and neither of you could decide on girl names. The problem was that there were too many that you loved.

As usual, you watched the screen and this time it looked more like a baby, especially in profile. Looking straight on was a different sight, for sure. Still, you were excited. You squeezed Joe’s hand in anticipation.

“Would you like to know the sex?” Dr. Jones asked.

“Yes, please!” you and Joe said together.

She chuckled. “It’s a boy.”

You and Joe beamed at each other. You started laughing, overcome with joy.

“A boy,” you sighed, still taking it in. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” Dr. Jones said as Joe kissed you swiftly on the lips. She glanced at your chart again and her smile faltered.

“What is it?” you asked. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s not something to worry too much about,” she said. “But your blood pressure is higher than normal. Blood pressure does rise during pregnancy, but this is above average. Are you experiencing any unusual stress?”

You and Joe exchanged an almost amused look. Where could you even begin?

“Well, I just had to press charges against my ex-boyfriend,” you said. “There’s another court date coming up in October. The father of my child is in and out of town. I’m moving in less than a month. On top of all of that, I’m still working and carrying a baby.”

“That is a lot,” she said seriously. “I need you to find ways to destress because high blood pressure can lead to problems during delivery. You can take baby aspirin to help, but don’t rely too much on that.”

“What can I do to destress?” you wondered.

“That’s up to you,” she replied. “If you need to do a face mask and take a bath every night then do so. Are you two still having sex regularly?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe said.

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “Sex can relieve a lot of stress as long as both partners reach orgasm. But on the days when he’s not there, you’ll still need to make an effort to keep yourself calm.”

“She struggles with anxiety,” he added.

“Joe!” you hissed.

“It’s important that she knows,” he insisted.

“He’s right,” Dr. Jones agreed. “I see you’re not taking anything for it, and I recommend that you don’t right now. What do you usually do to get through an anxiety attack?”

“Joe shows me stupid YouTube videos,” you explained.

“Then watch stupid YouTube videos as well,” she said. “Whatever reminds you that the problems you’re facing aren’t nearly as big as your brain is telling you they are.”

“Okay, we can do that,” you assured her.

“Now, I don’t want to add to your stress, but I’m going on a trip for a few months,” she said. “I’m going to be in Kenya until January, teaching and helping out in their hospitals. I’ve gotten another doctor, Dr. Chris Barrow, to cover my patients. He’s in surgery today, but he’ll meet you for your next appointment. Are you okay with having a man as your doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said. “I think it’s amazing what you’re doing. Will you be back for the delivery?”

She nodded. “Yes. Dr. Barrow will assist me for your delivery. So, the next time I see you, we will all be meeting your son.”

You squealed with delight. “Thank you so much!”

“Really,” Joe agreed, shaking her hand. “We’re so excited.”

“I’m excited too,” she said. “Be careful, and be sure to stay relaxed! If you need anything that Dr. Barrow can’t get you, I’ll have email.”

You thanked her again before you left. When you got outside you looked at Joe.

“We’re having a son!” you cried, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I know!” he shouted, spinning you around. “A beautiful baby boy!”

“Joseph Francis Mazzello IV,” you said, rubbing a hand down your belly. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

[ssnakey-b]

FF8 English-French translarison, part 24: Return of the Translarison!

Holy shit, have I seriously not posted a new part since February?! Well, it’s time to get back to business. Since it’s been a while, in case you forgot, last time, the team was getting ready to face Edea for the second and last time. Let’s get to it.

We start with another example of Fujin telling us a bit more than in English as instead of just “FATIGUED!”, she says “I can’t take it any more!”.

Meanwhile, instead of “Let’s just go. ...Let’s get it over with, ya know?”, Raijin says “Come on, let’s keep going! We gotta end this!”

To this, English Fujin rplies “REQUEST” (which I’m still not sure what she means by that since she doesn’t actually request anything) while her French counterpart says “I’ve had it!”. A little dialogue follows.

English:

Raijin: ...We’re leavin’ Seifer up to you now, ya know? We don’t know what’s going on anymore, ya know? ...We just want the old Seifer back, ya know?”

Squall: (Seifer... He probably thinks he can’t go back now.) All right.

French:

Raijin: Seifer, we’ve had enough... this isn’t fun for us. We don’t know what’s going on! You weren’t like that before...

Squall: (Seifer won’t give up. No, not now...) I see...

I’ll give the English text that it’s a nice bit of characterization that Raijin is basically asking Squall to save Seifer from himself, or at least stop him from going even further down the deep end than he already has but man, do these annoying catchphrases and gimmick destroy any atmosphere for me. I really don’t understand why English-language translators are so obsessed with them (and if they were in the original Japanese, well, not everything needs to be translated directly).

Seriously, professional translators, you gotta understand that you don’t need to commit to a running gag every goddamn time to the detriment of everything else. Even if you don’t think it takes you out of the story, running gags get really old really quick.

Also, we once again get a hint that Seifer used to be better, which would have been nice to actually see in the game rather than constantly be assured that it used to be the case because again, we see more genuine chemistry between the Jin Team & Squall than between him and Seifer.

Anyway, with that rant over, let’s continue. This guy, who gives you the first key card, says mostly the same thing in both versions, but I wanted to bring it up because of an UNFORGIVABLE mistake in the French version. That’s right, despite the sentence being pluralized, they used the pronoun “Il” without an S, which is the singular form!! I really hope whomever wrote that atone by cutting off their pinky at the first knuckle.

On a more serious level, there is also an interesting little bit in the English version where he mentions that most students were kicked out, which is absent in the French version. And I mean, I guess it doesn’t need to be stated explicitly, but I think it’s nice to have it confirmed that Galbadia Garden was completely recycled into a military base, as it adds to the tragedy that the student basically lost their home IMO. Although I guess at least it means they’re not being held hostages.

And now it’s time to finally meet these hockey-playing monsters we’ve been told about so long ago. I just love that the devs actually made those, and that they decided that their reaction to a massive battles would be to take the opportunity to get involved in the fight for no real reason.

And yes, as you may have noticed the Slappers are called Jason in the French version of the game, because why not throw in a Friday the 13th reference for good measure? And if you remember (in which case, congrats on the good memory considering how long ago that was), this ties into another reference that’s been invented by the French version, where they explained that these guys psych themselves up for a match by watching horror movies such as Friday the 13th. Just amazing!

But wait! That’s not all! Because if you scan them, the French version also explicitly mentions that the Jasons are, in fact, students at Galbadia Garden. I mean, you could gather that information in the English version as well, but to have it explicitly stated here just makes it that much funnier to me. Just imagine having to take classes with these things next to you. Do they keep the masks on? What do they look under there? Please, Square-Enix, cancel the remaster and put your resources towards giving us a spin-off expanding on this lore. THIS is what the world needs!

Sadly, we must leave the Jasons, but we do get to meet Cerberus! The original dog from Hell!

Massive difference in tone between the versions when it comes to Cerberus, or Cerbères in French (the last E is silent, as is the S). In English, he’s very blunt, talking less like an immortal demonic being and more like a pro wrestling Heel, yeeling in all caps “PRETTY CONFIDENT. LET’S SEE HOW YOU DO. SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” which by the way, really makes me wish he went “I LIKE WHAT YOU GOT” upon being defeated.

In French, he is more eloquent and collected, saying “What arrogance! Mere mortals! Show me what you’re capable of!”. And while his actual line upon defeat is “NOT BAD...MORTALS” in English, in French, he simply says “Interesting”.

One last detail about this fight I’d like to mention. After Irvine mentions he doesn’t know that Guardian Force, French Squall simply says “Let’s take it!” but I like the English version a lot more here, as Squall goes “Ahh... let’s just take it.”

Yeah, sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. And I think that says a lot as to where Squall is mentally at this point. Just done. Fuck it. I mean, he just fought a team of horror-inspired hockey monsters, there’s no point in questioning anything any more.

Much to my dismay, it’s time to meet up with Seifer again. The dialogue stays mostly consistent across both versions, with the one notable detail being that in the English version, when addressing Linoa, he says “remember a year ago we...” whereas in French, he says “and yet, a year ago...” so the English version hints at a slightly deeper, perhaps more reciprocal relationship.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the only acknowledgement Seifer gives of any previous relationship between the two in either version, and it’s in an optional bit of dialogue that only appears if Linoa is in the party at this point. This is why I am not buying this supposed love triangle for a second. Much like every part of the supposed rivalry between Seifer and Squall, it barely exists, what little is there is completely superficial and Seifer is blatantly outmatched right form the get go.

And look, I’m not here to tell you you’re right of wrong in your headcanons or fanfics or whatever, I really don’t care. However, it always annoys me when people go on and on about how deep and meaningful this love triangle when it’s really not. In fact, it barely is at all. So again, I’m not giving people shit if they want to make it a thing, but you gotta keep in mind that whatever story you give them is entirely your creation. Because when it comes to what’s actually shown in the game, well, it’s almost nothing, which makes me wonder why it’s even there to begin with. The extent of their story is: Linoa thought Seifer was hot, Seifer might have thought the same about her, maybe?

Anyway, second rant over, there’s a small difference in the dialogue with Irvine. In English, Seifer says “Hey, you’re a Galbadian student, get over here.” to which irvine replies “I’m happy right here, thank you.”

In french, Seifer says “Hey, the Galbadian, you’re coming back home?” and he answers with “I like my new country better” which I don’t think is actually quite what’s going on but I will admit is an interesting take on this scene.

Again, things are pretty similar in the dialogue between Squall and Seifer leading up to the battle, with Squall saying Seifer is just another monster in both versions, although Seifer’s last line before the fight is different... and very stupid either way. In English, he says “You guys are the monsters” and in French he says “I think of myself as a Boss, yeah”.

Well I’m glad both lines are equally cringeworthy, with English Seifer cribbing his from a 12 year old trying to sound deep and French Seifer just coming across like the kind of douche that The Lonely Island likes to parody. Also, I think the French version may have attempted to be cute. Get it? Because he’s a boss battle! HA HA no.

In the auditorium, we have a slight difference in Edea’s opening line. In English, she refers to Squall as “the legendary SeeD destined to face me”. In French, she calls him “the famous Seed whose coming is announced by all”. It seems a bit weird to me as I’m not getting the impression that Squall is all that famous in-universe so it would be weird that “all” would announce his arrival.

So I think the English version works a little bit better as it gives the impression she knows that due to her insight into future events. Then again, you could argue that French Ultimecia is talking about her original timeline, where perhaps Squall was leading the charge against her and he had become some kind of hero to the people of that time, and that she is trying to stop him before he can become that hero. After all, for someone like Ultimecia, it would make sense to view the various timelines as one and the same.

So we fight, I grab Alexander (known in French as Alexandre, so almost the same, but the English name will still show in my game due to my save file getting confused) and during Squall’s blackout, we get a slight difference that once again at the two translations being based off the original Japanese rather than each-other, as in English, Squall complains about his body hurting whereas in French, it’s specifically his head, so it appears we have different interpretations going on.

Similarly, after Edea asks if she was able to protect Ellone (which interestingly, shows that Edea is at least not always aware of what Ultimecia is doing), English Squall thins “I don’t understand”, showing general confusion at the situation, whereas French Squall thinks “I don’t know.” replying directly to her question about Ellone.

And that’s it for today! Next time, we’ll see how differently Squall reacts to Linoa’s situation in both versions as we finally start taking on the 3rd CD content. I hope you all enjoyed this return of the translarison, I honestly didn’t realize it had been this long. I promise I’ll try and be more regular again, even though as I’ve said before, the only schedule for this is “when I feel like it”.

Now speaking of future updates, in case you missed it, I would like to start streaming my gameplay sessions on Twitch as I take screenshots and comment on what’s happening, and hopeuflly take your questions and observations. If it”‘s something that sounds interesting to you, I would really like you to say so by commenting on this post, dropping me a line or however you see fit, and if/when it happens, you can join us at twitch.tv/ssnakeyb. Either way, likes and reblogs are always appreciated to help spread the word.

Have a nice day, everyone! I’l be seeing you next time!

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #181

UPDATE 181: Meat

A long time ago, I finished reading Homestuck. It was quite the long tale, and it was rather enjoyable! At the time I thought there ‘d be nothing else, because Act 7 seemed like quite the final chapter – or if there was anything, it’d be bits and pieces that wouldn’t warrant a liveblog. Yet here we are! Turns out, after this long, there’s epilogues. In plural, as you can see. Somehow, there are now epilogues and they’re said to be quite long, too. After taking a cursory read that made me read more than I thought I would, here I am, reopening this liveblog to explore the epilogues.

What I have read so far...is not particularly enticing or even likable, at least in terms of enjoyment, really, but there’s something about the writing that makes me want to continue. Credit where it’s due, yeah. Still, I’m interested in seeing where this is going, and now, I’m posting my thoughts here for everyone to see. Here we go! So, let’s start with the epilogue liveblog!

You know, before that, I should note that now the story has its own URL instead of being into the old mspaintadventures website. Kind of late in the game for this change, Mr. Hussie. I mean, the story is over, and although there’s a whooole lot of new content, it seems a bit senseless to have this in its own domain. Then again, the rest of the mspaintadventures stories were kind of...hidden away in the website? I don’t remember links to them, when I used to read Homestuck. Maybe Homestuck getting its own domain is for the better. I do wonder if this is a hint more stuff will come in the future. The extra-epilogue. The postscript-extra-content. The seriously-guys-this-is-the-end chapter.

There are two epilogues, it seems. One is meat, the other is candy. I immediately notice this is related to the cherubs’ food. I wonder if it means one epilogue will be...bloodier? Crueler? More chaotic and violent? I mean more like something Caliborn will like, while the other will be more to Calliope’s tastes. I’ll start with the meat epilogue, simply because it’s to the left.

From what I can tell at a glance, there are no images, but there are colored words, most likely from conversations between characters. That should be fine, although Homestuck was pretty visual at times, its strength was the writing and characterization.

Well then! The very first paragraph already beats most of Homestuck in terms of extremely descriptive stuff. Heck, this reminds me of Worm, with its extensive paragraphs about bugs and how they crawl on people and cause all sorts of nasty effects. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Meat was definitely the right choice, you think, as grease drips down your chin. The meat is cold and undercooked, so you have to grab it with both hands while you rend it apart with your incisors. It bursts in chunks, filling your mouth with blood and your throat with mangled knots of gristle and long strings of muscle fiber. You take big bites, almost too big to swallow, so big that you choke on the meaty mulch and hock some of it up into your nasal cavity. You sneeze out a gooey rope of phlegm and flesh. You stop for a moment to wipe your face, but your chin is still slippery after you swipe the mess away. Slivers of meat catch between your teeth as you masticate with bestial enthusiasm. You use your thumbnail to fish them out.

...am I eating this meat straight from the cow.

Apparently the person who is eating meat that’s almost raw is John, who I guess gained a taste for raw meat at some point. Maybe he’s trying to emulate Jade’s canine half, for all I know. He’s with Roxy and Calliope, the later providing the meat. I suppose cherubs wouldn’t know about cooking meat. Speaking of cherubs, eating meat reminds John of Lord English, and he gets so sick thinking of Lord English he decides he knows what he must do. Alright! Didn’t waste any time dilly-dallying around!

JOHN: i have to go back and kill lord english.

ROXY: u sure?

JOHN: i think so. it will probably be hard. but i think it’s the right thing to do.

JOHN: everyone is counting on me.

When is this epilogue set? Before Act 7? I thought by now Lord English was dead and gone, not that it still was something that needed to be done. Then again, it’s not like Lord English’s death was shown on screen, if I remember correctly. Maybe this is after Act 7 and he’s going back in time with his retcon powers. I suppose he’d still have them.

Roxy seems disappointed, so I suppose she knew this had to be done at some point. Given John’s retcon powers, it’s not impossible this is the last time she sees John if things go wrong. Calliope is more accepting, saying it’s John’s decision. Time to leave?

Seriously, things have gotten quite more descriptive now. Still unsure if that’s good or not.

The farewell is quite unsatisfying, and the moment passes without John being able to make it better, so he goes to prepare himself and write a note for Roxy as a farewell and/or apology. Not only to her, to all of his friends. It’s like he’s aware the chances he’ll return here aren’t that high. I wonder if John would die here at the end. It’d be quite...something!

In this epilogue, there’s a Troll Kingdom, which I imagine is ruled by the trolls who survived Homestuck, raising the grubs created by ectobiology. Dave and Karkaroni are there, Dave lives with the trolls, I suppose because his relationship with Karkaroni now includes living in his hive.

KARKAT: NOT NOW DAVE. JAKE’S ASS IS ON TV AGAIN.

DAVE: stop ogling jakes ass this is important

KARKAT: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHOSE ASS I SHOULD STOP OGLING.

Apparently the reason why Jake’s ass is on TV again is because he and Dirk have a show involving rap battles and robot wrestling, which I suppose is the natural progression from when Jake used to get said ass kicked by a robot. People like the show, and I’m already convinced it’s partly because of the schadenfreude of seeing Jake losing against robots – because no way Dirk is losing, hah

Karkaroni has a few choice words for the fake gladiatorial show, and points out this show is all about zooming onto Jake’s ass. Maybe ‘pumpkin patch’ is an euphemism. Either way, the relevance of the TV show is eclipsed by the announcement Jane is running for president of the entire Earth. Aha, truly the wretched pastry baroness’ descendant.

DAVE: i dunno crocker is just an ambitious woman i guess

KARKAT: THIS SOUNDS FUCKING AWFUL.

DAVE: oh it is

DAVE: it absolutely is

DAVE: also like

DAVE: dont tell her i said this but

DAVE: i think shes basically a fascist

...well then. Oh all things that could have been used to describe Jane from what I remember of her, ‘fascist’ didn’t come not even close. Then again, it’s not like Karkaroni had any meaningful contact with Jane, and all Dave did was call her hot, which isn’t really the epitome of camaraderie and intimidate knowledge. They both even admit to that.

DAVE: oh also shes a fucking xenophobe

KARKAT: OF COURSE SHE’S A XENOPHOBE!

...ah.

...

Did I miss something? Was there something between Act 7 and these epilogues that revealed Jane harbors xenophobic inclinations? Why am I having to ask aloud ‘hey is Jane a xenophobe’

KARKAT: DAVE, I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’VE NOTICED, BUT

KARKAT: A LOT OF HUMANS ARE???

DAVE: yeah ive noticed

Well, that part isn’t really surprising. Humanity just has a knack for looking down on other people, I can only imagine how it’d be when it’s about other sapient species. If aliens ever make contact with humanity it’ll be a social mess.

Since letting Jane claim the spot of president of Earth is not good, apparently, Dave wants to stop her, eliciting laughter from Karkaroni who is already imagining Dave running against her. No, Dave couldn’t handle that responsibility, no way.

DAVE: anyway no

DAVE: im not running

DAVE: you are

Hm...unless Karkaroni got over the many issues he had from his leadership attempt during Sgrub this can’t end well. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t like the idea, precisely because he doesn’t feel like he has what’s needed to be a leader. It’s not that he would lose horribly – Karkaroni actually is rather popular. I suppose all of the Homestuck survivors are popular – it’s that he doesn’t feel ready and he seems to hate the attention. Understandable.

KARKAT: MAYBE I DON’T ACTUALLY LIKE BEING FAMOUS?

KARKAT: AND MAYBE THAT’S AS GOOD A FUCKING REASON AS ANY *NOT TO RUN FOR THE FUCKING PRESIDENCY OF EARTH*?????

KARKAT: NOT TO MENTION THE IDEA OF AN ELECTION IS KIND OF A FUCKED UP AND WEIRD THING TO ME CULTURALLY ANYWAY, AND I’M STILL KIND OF GETTING USED TO THE IDEA THAT PEOPLE CAN JUST... “CHOOSE” THEIR FUCKING LEADERS AND NOT HAVE THE SAME OLD MERCILESS BITCH IN POWER FOR SEVERAL MILLION YEARS.

Perfectly valid reason. I mean, it’s not something kind of inconsequential as being the class president of sophomore year in school or whatever it’s like up there in America. It’s president of the entire planet. If Karkaroni wins there will be consequences, even if he steps away immediately. Either he commits to this fully, or he simply shouldn’t run.

DAVE: ok ill just be the one to come out and say it

DAVE: shes going to be a fucking disaster for the economy

So Jane’s a republican. Haha! Ah, I shouldn’t touch this not even with a ten-foot pole. Nevermind that.

DAVE: i guess i have to admit

DAVE: part of this

DAVE: for me personally

DAVE: its

KARKAT: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING DAVE

DAVE: its about obama

Somehow, I didn’t even bat an eye with Dave described part of the reason why this is personal for him is because Obama didn’t get to be president due to, you know, the end of the world. I find it in-character, somehow. This isn’t the first time Dave extols Obama’s virtues, and after quite an extensive diatribe, he says maybe Obama reincarnated in Karkaroni. Thaaaat has to be the most Dave-y encouraging thing he could have ever thought. It’s for things like these that I like Dave, haha

Apparently only humans have tried to get to high offices, because no other species has even tried. They lack ambition, and given what I remember from Sburb, that’s believable. The only species that could come close to taking part in this are the trolls, and they’re not used to elections. No wonder humans have the high spots of politics.

DAVE: karkat dont stereotype

DAVE: remember the mayor

DAVE: remember how at one point a long time ago he raised an army and rebelled against an evil king

KARKAT: OH YEAH

KARKAT: SOMEHOW I ALWAYS FORGET HE DID THAT.

KARKAT: KIND OF MIND BOGGLING, REALLY.

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT, I MISS THE MAYOR.

DAVE: me too

Ah, yeah...I miss him too. I wonder what happened to him.

The government is in charge of troll reproduction through cloning, I suppose because the mother grub isn’t ready yet. In the meantime, the balance of power will get entrenched to the point where even when there’s a functional mother grub, humans will restrict troll population so they don’t take over the planet and make the horrors of Alternia happen. No lie, that’d be pretty bleak for humanity. Last time the horrors of Alternia were forced onto Earth everyone died. No troll right now would try, buuuut yeah, that’s not going to be forgotten...for a while.

Somehow, Dave’s arguments about how Jane has zero business acumen, is sinister, and trolls are getting the raw end of the deal are actually getting Karkaroni to pay attention, until he finally caves, simply because it’d make Dave happy. That’s sweet. But yeah, this is...not what I expected what would happen in the epilogue. Well then!

DAVE: aw yeah

DAVE: you wont regret it this is gonna be dope

DAVE: i think we have a great shot too

DAVE: with my political savvy and economic genius and outrageous flair for subversive anti establishment messaging and propaganda, and your big loud fucking mouth...

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK

DAVE: um i guess also your charisma and likability and shit

KARKAT: YEAH.

KARKAT: YOU MIGHT BE RIGHT...

KARKAT: I’M PRETTY SURE I CAN FAKE THOSE THINGS WELL ENOUGH.

DAVE: oh also

DAVE: your weirdly sincere humility

KARKAT: I PREFER THE TERM “SELF LOATHING” ACTUALLY.

DAVE: ok lets try to avoid that phrase on the campaign trail too

KARKAT: THIS ALREADY SOUNDS LIKE A PAIN IN THE ASS.

I’m not a political strategist, but if Karkaroni is going to run on a platform about how Jane sucks and there’s inequality towards the trolls, I’m not entirely certain it’s good there’s a shadowy human pulling the strings in the campaign. Kind of seems like bad optics to me. Then again, can’t say I know where this is going so let’s just wait and see.

Yup, Dave definitely will be the brains behind this presidency. They already agreed he’ll write what Karkaroni will say, even though he should improvise and speak from the heart, like he tends to do. Not a bad idea, it’s part of what makes him endearing.

DAVE: time to talk some strategy

DAVE: we need to rally as much high profile support to our cause as we can

DAVE: but there are some uh

DAVE: “lines of loyalty” to figure out

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: i mean which of our friends are going to side with us and which ones will side with jane

It’s a safe bet to think the New Wonderteam will side with Jane and the Original Flavor Wonderteam with Dave and Karkaroni. Calliope likely will stick with Roxy, so she’d be on Jane’s side. All the living trolls would go with Karkaroni, so...overall? It seems to me the advantage is clear. Dave is slightly less optimistic than me, but he does think they can get many on their side.

...okay, what happened to Jade? What kind of twisted scenario involved her to the point where neither Dave nor Karkaroni want to talk about her? I’m almost afraid of finding out.

So there are four kingdoms, if I understand this correctly: one for humans, one for trolls, one for...carapaces, I guess, and one for the consorts, which would be aaaaaall the silly reptiles and amphibians from Sburb.

Jake’s support will be pivotal, and since I’m already betting he’ll be on Jane’s side out of, you know, being friends with her for quite some time, it seems like she’ll have the edge there. Then again, it’s true Jake is fairly timid, so there’s also a chance he’ll refuse to take a side. I’m starting to think any sane person would stay the heck away from any side in this mess, honestly. These two haven’t even announced Karkaroni as a candidate yet I already kind of dread what’s coming. I don’t know, it’s just this...constant atmosphere that something’s pretty wrong. I don’t really like it.

During all this, Dave receives a call from Dirk, so he calls back to ask what’s going on. This page ends with Dirk abut to insinuate he needs Dave to cut his head off again. I see these two’s weird pseudofamilial relationship is as messed up as ever. Charming.

So, back to the more Homestuck-y stuff. John zaps back to the story, apparently he agreed with Rose what needed to be done. First he makes sure Aranea won’t be up to shenanigans, taking off that ring of life from her finger. Good! Then he stashes Gamzee into the fridge again. Good! Everything’s fine over here. John zaps to the next plot point.

Ah, I have to read just two paragraphs to know what moment is this. The conversation below confirms my thoughts. Wait, I have to get the image for this moment:

There we go. Boy was it a pain to find it now that the long outline list is gone.

I think in Homestuck they had noticed John hanging out above them, and this time they see three of them, one of the Johns being an adult version. That’s going to be difficult to explain. Questions are asked, and evil Jade is zapped away to maybe get ready for the fight against Lord English, hopefully she won’t still be evil when the time comes, even if she technically is against Lord English and wants him dead. John is here to talk with Dave, anyway. If I recall correctly, Dave was supposed to give the final blow with that sword with the Welsh name, so my guess is that John is here for that. Get ready, Dave, you’re going to fulfill the fate you didn’t want in the first place! But at least I’m fairly certain John will be more successful at this than evil Jade was.

Turns out I’m not wrong about why John is here. In fact, the narration even says this:

Dave’s eyebrows descend beneath his sunglasses. You feel pretty bad because you’re about to completely circumvent the life-changing epiphany he’s just had that you know for a fact will make him a happier, chiller, and altogether more well-balanced human being.

Pretty unfortunate, really. It sucks to be Dave.

As I said before, Jade is zapped away to parts unknown, and Dave is informed of how everyone was spending their lives as normal adults with no big problems and a fairly peaceful life. Clearly John left the present before Dave and Karkaroni started their political war against Jane. Oh well. Off you go, Dave, get ready for a fight with Lord English. In the meantime, John will gather the rest of the team.

You know, I’m starting to realize I had a lot more to say about Dave and Karkaroni’s new political adventures than about the more familiar Homestuck-y messing around John is doing with the plot. I guess it’s because, as strange as the other plotline is, it just has...a lot other stuff to comment about that hasn’t been present in Homestuck before? Hm.

Yup, Dirk immediately asks for his decapitation as a solution for the tremendous defeat he has suffered at Jake’s hands, defeat that shouldn’t have happened because, as Dave states, Jake is pretty awful at everything. Either the show is rigged or Dirk must have quite a lot in mind for him to not even make an effort.

Yep, it’s rigged. I hope Jake knows. That guy never had a break during the game, hopefully he’ll get a break now. Speaking of Jake, he has to take the brunt of entertaining everyone while Dirk takes the call in the middle of the show. Whatever he has to talk about must be somewhat urgent, if he felt like calling Dave in the middle of it.

This narration sure is calling attention to Jake’s ass a lot, I lost count of how many paragraphs include something about it. Hussie, is there something you’d like to share with the class? Last time I checked the story he didn’t seem particularly interested in Jake’s ass, or in...Jake in general, really.

It seems what Dirk is doing here is intentionally making himself the villain of this show, but it’s not because he’s throwing Jake a bone or anything. No, it turns out there are more sinister goals here, or at least they’re sinister for Dave and Karkaroni’s newfound political ambitions.

DIRK: The point is, this is much less about me, and more about providing a foil for Jake’s heroism and charisma.

DIRK: It’s very important that his popularity continues to be cultivated, to maximize his political capital.

Sounds like they were planning Jane’s campaign for quite a while, if they went so far as to make Jake the hero of their show just for political capital. I bet that was the plan all along, right from the very first time this was broadcasted. How long ago was that, I wonder? But yeah, as Dave predicted, Dirk is fully on the Jane corner of this mess. He’s fully aware of Jane’s flaws and theoretical fascist/xenophobic tendencies, I presume, and he believes Jane’s the best for the current situation of the world. Whether he’s right or not...well...until proven otherwise I believe that too, yeah.

DIRK: We’ve all had our fun here, but it’s easy to overlook the fact that civilization on Earth C is hardly a sustainable proposition.

DIRK: Just beneath the surface, it’s quite a dangerous and unstable place.

Won’t lie, that never crossed my mind at all. From the way Act 7 ended, and how happy the ending was supposed to be, I simply thought things were going to be just peachy. I’m interested in knowing just how exactly it’s a quite a dangerous and unstable place. Care to explain, Dirk?

Guess not. I hope he explains how he knew what Dave and Karkaroni are planning, then. They took this decision like ten minutes ago.

DIRK: I think your heart is in the right place, but the dude is a complete amateur.

DIRK: He’ll get eaten alive. I also have a hard time imagining he even wants the job.

DIRK: Really, it’s an awful idea for him to even run. Think about how much it’s going to inflame the interspecies tensions on this planet. Is that what you want?

DIRK: I’m happy for both of you, really. It’s nice that you encourage and support each other in this way. But you’re sending him on a fool’s errand which can only end badly.

To be perfectly honest, other than the part about inflaming interspecies tensions on the planet, that was more or less what I thought. So far I agree. Even the part about inflaming interspecies tensions sounds plausible.

You know, it’s kind of fun both sides have a savvy Strider political operative. These two are more alike than Dave would like to admit, really.

The reason why Dirk is calling is because he wants to dissuade Karkaroni from running, even if he doesn’t say it. He admits Jake is not under Dirk’s beck and call, though. Does that really change anything? Dirk may not be on Jake’s good graces, but perhaps Jane is? Either way, this is a call to subtly dissuade and it’s not going to work because Karkat is stubborn as hell once he gets his head into something and he did. Tough luck.

The call is over, Dirk is back into the staged fray, so Jake thinks about Dirk’s capricious nature.

DIRK: Sorry for the momentary diversion, Jake. Now where were we?

JAKE: Momentary??? Gadzooks man you were on the phone for half a friggin hour!

JAKE: I know you like to get the crowd all hot and bothered but we are supposed to be professionals here!

...no wonder the crowd was starting to get so upset. Half an hour?! Just how slowly were the Striders talking?

Jake pulls out rhymes that honestly reminds me of Dave’s old rapping convos from like Act 1 or 2, peppered with old-timey sayings. It’s the kind of thing that makes me wonder how Jake is popular all over the planet. It’s said it’s out of pity, but goodness, that must be a metric ton of pity. The rap fight ends with Dirk sedating Jake to take another call. Geez, no wonder you’re not on his good graces anymore, Dirk.

Aaaanyway, back to John. He has gathered everyone back at his childhood home, ready to start the discussion on how to get rid of Lord English once and for all.

Jake is sort of ruining the mood anyway by bouncing away on your old Green Slime pogo. Doesn’t he realize how dangerous that thing is? Of course not. The fool.

To be frank that thing looked fun to me, even though I wouldn’t ride it without a helmet. John needs to appreciate more the painful playground elements in his life.

It’s nostalgic to read a convo with the kids. I hadn’t realized until now I missed Jade’s goofy mannerisms. Jade was always someone I was so fond of. Heck, all of the kids are people I’m fond of, although I’m less fond of Dirk and Jake than the rest. My opinion of Homestuck may not be as high as it once was, but the characters are something I still appreciate.

John answers a question: what happens to the people from the timelines they all left? Who knows. They may have stopped existing, which I’m sure is something they’d have liked to know before, but there’s nothing that can be done about that. Better start planning so they don’t die horribly and make nothing matter, alright.

The planning is mostly disorganized and structureless, although some common themes that often recur involve you and your original three friends leading the charge, since you are the oldest and wisest, and therefore the strongest, with the exception of Jade, whose gaudy array of powers make her the most formidable of the group, bar none. Aside from that, it appears the consensus is that the melee will likely devolve into an absolute free-for-all—at least going by the general patterns of incoherent banter, shit-talking, and points of pedantic tactical disagreement plaguing the jam session.

Sounds about right. I still think Jade would be very useful in the fight as long as she’s actually there and not...getting knocked out by mailwomen-turned-winged-dog. Maybe this time there’ll actually be something about the kids getting into a fight with Lord English. I’m not really going to hope for that too much, given how Hussie is not into catering to orderly narratives, but eh. No harm in dreaming.

The reunion ends when Jake eats dirt when he falls from the pogo, and in all this there wasn’t even a word about the plan. Not a good omen for the ‘show everyone fighting Lord English’ dream, really. The kids all talk together, some of them meeting each other for the first time, while John wistfully stares at Dad Egbert who is visible through the window.

The sun is hitting the glass in such a way that you can’t see his face.

Ah, yes, how could I forget the eternal sun that was in Dad’s vicinity all the time, that’s why his face always appeared mostly blank. That’s why the sun was right beside the Homestuck letter logo, it’s always there. Besides, if it’s a bad idea to go talk with Dad Hebert, may I ask why they’re all gathered in this yard, one week before the meteors strike? I know I’d be alarmed if I looked out of the window and saw seven hooligans and one adult hanging out in my yard.

There are other things to be wondering about, anyway, like the fact John may not be seeing these as real versions of his friends. Then again, in my opinion, he’s thinking a bit too hard about this. Of course he’d feel kind of detached, simply because of the age difference. That’s hard to overcome. Is it time to leave and go possibly die? Grab hands and hope it’ll go okay!

No, seriously, why am I taking like a page for John’s retconning and like three and half for Dave and Karkaroni’s Elect-a-Troll 20XX? Oh well. Dirk is still in the stadium, apparently their shows always ends in a riot, making me wonder how are they popular with people. Public disorder doesn’t really paint a good image of you. The caller is Rose, and she’s not feeling happy.

ROSE: The bottom line is this.

ROSE: I am ascending, and it is terrible.

Is Rose reaching Nirvana? How else am I supposed to interpret ‘ascending’? It’s not like she’s not a higher existence already, what with godhood and all.

What’s going on is that Rose is being plagued from visions and a higher awareness of her alternate selves’ lives and tribulations, giving her something close to omniscience when it’s about the universe, and Dirk is going through that too, which I suppose helps explain how he knew what Dave wanted to do. That’s what Dave will have to go against? Good luck to him.

I have to wonder if Dirk being such a stalwart Jane supporter is fueled by his recent omniscience. Maybe he knows something Dave and Karkaroni don’t, maybe the warning he gave them was something he foresaw. That aside, then he also must have known how useless it was to call Dave and that it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Having omniscience must seriously suck. At least Dirk has a way to work with his omniscience in a way that won’t wreck him apart, and I’m curious what it’s going to be. That said, though, a story about Dirk and Rose having foreseen a nasty future and working to stop it even at the cost of a few valuable friendships would be interesting. I’d read that.

Any conversation that will come from this will be at the studio later. I for one am looking forward to it, I admit. It’s an interesting topic, rich with possibilities and potential for development. It’s a shame these are epilogues, though. In the end, this will go nowhere, I imagine. Isn’t it a pity when you come across an idea or a plot that could span an entire story, but you know it’s not likely to come to fruition? Real shame, that.

I think I’ll stop for now. I have read only seven pages out of forty-three or so, but this should be enough for now. I can’t say I have been...enjoying this. I’m interested, but not really happy so far. Maybe it’s because a couple rather questionable things have come out of the blue and for the life of me I can’t make them fit with the characters or the story. Strange.

Also, something about the writing style is...off. It’s far more descriptive than Homestuck usually was. Most of the time it’s nice, other times I wonder if it was necessary. Still, I wonder where this will go, so at least the epilogues have that on its favor. Just for that, I think liveblogging it will be worth it.

Still, these epilogues are non-canon, aren’t they? If they’re canon can you please tell me that? Thanks, readers! So, for the time being, this update ends here.

Next update: next time

[itsme98z]

Logan’s New Relationship

Summary: Logan is in a new relationship and wonders if the others will accept it. 

Ships: Platonic LAMP, polyamorous (one character is), prinxiety.

Warnings: Some swear words, main focus on polyamory, secret relationships, mentions of negative things that happen to polyamorous people like getting beaten up, shunned, etc.(If you think of any more, please message me!)

Word count: 3,278

Links: Wattpad 

Logan couldn’t stop smiling. He felt like a bomb of happiness. He tried to contain it but that proved to be much harder than originally thought. It freaked him out a bit. Logan hadn’t been this happy in a long time and didn’t know how to handle it. “What would Patton or Roman do?” he thought. “Those two are endless rivers of emotion.” Should he sit and wait until it goes away? Should he try to make it go away? It was very intense, maybe too intense, but he loved it. He never wanted the feeling to go away.

When Logan came down the stairs from his surprise ‘business’ call, Virgil couldn’t help but stop and stare.

“Uh Virge, you good?” Roman asked. This shook Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Oh yeah. Look at Logan’s smile. I’ve never seen him smile like that before.”

“Oh? You upset that you couldn’t make him smile like that?” Roman teased. Virgil was not amused.

“Oh my God! Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Um, I didn’t mean it like that, J.D.-lightful.”

“Well, any way you meant it is stupid and wrong.” He paused pouting. He continued. “He’s so monotone all the time. I’ve never seen him that happy before. It’s freaking me out a bit. Like what made him so happy? Is he planning on killing someone or something?”

Logan could hear them loud and clear. They weren’t really trying to be discreet and quiet. He usually would be annoyed and scold them, but after their conversation, he lost it. He was laughing so hard that he had tears coming out of his eyes. It wasn’t even that funny and didn’t intend to be, but he was so slaphappy that he didn’t care. He let the feelings take over. Roman and Virgil stared at him. He laughed so loud and so hard that even Patton came out of the kitchen to stop and stare. After noticing the confused eyes on him, he lost it again. 

Virgil mumbled to Roman. “I told you, he’s gonna kill someone.”

“You good specs?”

Logan calmed himself down then answered. “Yes, I’m fine. It seems that I am better than fine,” he answered smiling.

“Well, I’m glad,” Patton said.

“By chance, why are you so happy?” Virgil asked worriedly.

“Oh my God, Virge! He’s not gonna kill us!”

“You don’t know that!”

This caused another set of giggles to surface from Logan. He tried to suppress them so they could have a decent conversation.

“I do want to know: why are you so happy, Lo?” Patton asked.

He paused his smile faltering. Logan didn’t know how to tell them yet. How would you tell anyone something like this? What would he say? “Hey, some guys I went on a date with recently asked me to be their boyfriend! Yup, guys, plural. There are two of them. That’s right. Everyone I’m polyamorous!” Instead, Logan came up with a lie. “I - I told you it was a business call. I got a promotion… and a pay raise,” he said finishing off with a smile, hoping to convince them.

“Oh! Lo, that’s great!” Patton declared.

“Yeah, nerd. Glad you’re getting the position and pay you deserve.”

Roman seemed convinced, and Patton completely believed him. But Virgil glared at him with confusion. He squinted his eyes seemingly trying to find anything that proved Logan was lying. But apparently found nothing.

“Yeah. Congrats buddy.”

Logan cleared his throat after being stared down and thanked the others.

“We need to celebrate your success!” Patton yelled.

Crap. “Oh no, Patton. That’s very thoughtful of you, but we really don’t have to.”

“Of course, we do Erlenmeyer trash!”

“Dramatic as always, Roman. And really, it’s fine.”

“Well alright Lo, if that’s what you want.” Patton was a bit sad and downcast which made Logan feel guilty. “It’s necessary. I need to keep this secret, at least for now.”

The next couple of weeks seemed to go by in a blur for Logan. When he was with his now boyfriends, time appeared to speed past. He wanted to spend every waking moment with them, to never let go of their embrace, to never stop kissing them. He cancelled plans with his friends over and over again. He gave half-assed, crappy excuses like, “I need to finish some work,” or “I’m tired,” or want to stay at home tonight.” He didn’t think much of his friends’ feelings as his new relationship had taken over most of his thoughts. He was very much an introvert, a quiet person, someone who likes time alone. But these new feelings were so strong that he hated the thought of being away from his partners. It was called it the honeymoon phase for a reason. It wasn’t until six weeks later that his friends confronted him through text.

Pat - ‘Hey Lo, you alright?’

Ro – ‘Yeah. Is everything Gucci Specs?’

Lo – ‘Yes. Everything is “Gucci.”’

V – ‘Falsehood. Buddy, you are hiding something. Why are you avoiding us? Do you not want to hang out with us?’

Lo – ‘First of all, falsehood is my thing.’

V – ‘Bite me.’

Lo – ‘Very mature. Second, I do want to hang out with you all.’

Ro – ‘It doesn’t seem like it.’

Lo – ‘I’m sorry about that.’

Pat – ‘It’s alright, Lo. But is everything okay? Is there anything going on?’

Lo – ‘Nothing major.’

Pat – ‘You know you can talk to us about anything.’

Lo – ‘Thanks, but again everything is fine. But I will admit that my recent actions have not been fair to you three. I apologize.’

Pat – ‘It’s okay Lo! You don’t have to worry!’

V – ‘Yeah, that my job pocket protector.’

Pat – ‘I will PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU!’

V – ‘Calm down dad. Just a joke.’

Ro – Anyways, wanna hang out tomorrow?’

Pat – ‘Works for me!’

V – ‘Same here.”

Ro – ‘Lo?’

Lo – ‘Yeah. Tomorrow works for me. How about at my place?’

Ro – ‘PERFECT!’

V – ‘You don’t have to yell princy.’

Ro – ‘This is through text.’

V – ‘…I have no regrets. Works for me nerd.’

Pat – ‘You two… Anyways, that’s sound perfect Lo.’

Lo – ‘Then it’s settled.’

That night Logan couldn’t think straight (I mean he’s not straight, but that’s not the point). He felt guilty that he dissed his friends. But he was also happy that everything was still okay between them. He knew it would be awkward, though, at least for him, as he was keeping such a huge secret. They knew he was gay and were okay with it. I mean Roman is gay and Patton is pansexual/panromantic. Virgil doesn’t quite know his orientation but knows he’s at least not straight. And Logan knows that something is definitely going on between Roman and Virgil. The constant glances and hand grazing are enough to convince anyone. And Patton has had this ‘thing’ for a colleague of his for the longest time. But Logan didn’t know how they would react to him being polyamorous. He tried to think logically about the whole situation and his feelings. But his fears kept getting the better of him. Because of this, he did something he hadn’t done in years: Write a journal entry. Granted he didn’t actually have a journal, so he ripped out a piece of paper and got to writing.

Dear journal (sort of journal, entry, paper, I don’t know),

My feelings are too much for me right now, so I decided to write everything down. Tomorrow my friends are coming over to ‘hang out’, and I’m terrified. I want to tell them that I’m polyamorous and tell them about my feelings, but I’m scared. How will they act? Will they hate me? Okay, they won’t hate me, but I don’t think they will be okay with it. Patton will try to seem kind and accepting but won’t understand and never accept it fully. Virgil will be upfront and honest and say what he’s thinking. I honestly believe what he will have to say will be negative. He likes consistency and normalcy, so this big change would cause his anxiety to worsen. And Roman, well he’s is fucking addicted to Disney. Disney is filled with monogamous relationships, even friendships. He also loves romance stories which are always, you guessed it, monogamous. He has this idea in his mind about romance and love that will be impossible to change. I don’t want to admit it, but I do not believe any of them will be okay with me in a relationship with multiple people at once. Maybe one day I can be open about myself, about my feelings, but I don’t think that will be anytime soon.

                                     -Logan Sanders

After he finished writing, a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His conclusion wasn’t a good one, but at least he was able to get his feelings out without having to talk to anyone about it. He wasn’t good at talking about his feelings. “I should journal more often.” He folded the paper and set it near the end of his desk. He stood up and stretched. He then walked over to his closet to get ready for bed, not realizing the paper had fluttered to the floor.

It was the next day and the four friends were sitting on the couch talking about everyday things. The atmosphere was calm and serene, and Logan felt great. It was nice to be with his friends for the first time in weeks; he regretted ever cutting them out. Roman was currently talking about a funny incident at work. He was a school drama teacher. They were currently running the school version of the musical Beauty and the Beast. They were in dress rehearsal and the kid playing Luminaire had a large candle costume. While rehearsing Be Our Guest, the kids fell right on his butt. The candlesticks of the costume along with his feet went up in the air and stayed that way. He held that position for a solid ten seconds before Roman had to stop everyone. he was laughing so hard, he couldn’t breathe. After Roman finished his story and they ceased laughing, Virgil stood up.

“Be right back. Gotta take a leak.” And with that, he headed upstairs to the bathroom. After he relieved himself and washed his hands, he started the walk back to the living room. But as he glanced over at Logan’s room he paused. He noticed a folded-up paper on the floor. He picked it up and examined it. “Logan never leaves paper on the floor like this. What is this anyway?” With that, he opened it up and read. His eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what to do. He needed to talk to Roman and Patton about this but they couldn’t do it right in front of Logan. He took a picture of the content and sent it to Ro and Pat. ‘Found this in Logan’s room. We need to talk about it first then figure out what to do.’ He folded the paper back up and place it on the desk before leaving to go downstairs.

They had continued their conversation like nothing happened. The three exchanged glances every now and then, clearly worried about their friend. When Logan had gotten up to get more water Virgil quick whispered to them, “We’ll talk when he goes to the bathroom.” After that, they gave him cup after cup.

“More water Lo?” Patton asked for what felt like the tenth time, hoping he wasn’t being suspicious.

“No thank you, I’ve had enough water thanks to you guys.”

“We don’t want you to be dehydrated.”

He chuckled at that. “I bet. Anyways, because of all the water I now need to use the restroom. If you will excuse me…” After he closed the bathroom door, the four got closer and began talking.

“So, he’s polyamorous.” Roman started.

“Yes. He also said he wanted to talk about his feelings?” Virgil questioned.

“Does he like someone? Or multiple people?”

“He might.”

“Well, who could that be?” Patton questioned.

Virgil thought hard. He examined Logan’s recent behavior. Logan doesn’t talk to many people. The three of them were basically is only friends, friends that he had been avoiding for the past six weeks. “Wait…”  His eyes went wide.

“What Virge? Is everything okay?” Roman asked, worried. “You don’t think he… he likes us, do you?” After seeing their shocked expressions, he explained. “Think about it. We’re basically his only friends, the only people besides his family that he talks to.”

“Well yeah kiddo, but I don’t think-“ Patton started to say before Virgil cut him off.

“And he has been avoiding us for weeks on end, always giving bad excuses to not hang out with us.”

“I don’t know kiddo.”

“But you do gotta admit padre, that some odd behavior.”

“It is odd, but we can’t be 100% sure he likes us. We need to confront him about it.”

“As always Pat, you’re right,” Roman said. “But what if he does like us?”

“We have to explain that we don’t feel the same, well at least I don’t feel the same. What about you two kiddos?”

“Oh no. I don’t like him that way.” Roman was quick to respond.

“Yeah, same here.” An awkward silence filled the room before Virgil continued. “This is gonna suck.”

Patton placed a hand on his shoulder. Roman secretly placed his hand near Virgil’s jeans and played a bit with the seam trying to soothe him. But this was short lived. They heard the bathroom door open and Logan coming back downstairs. They sat back trying to look normal.

“I think I’m done with water for the night.” He chuckled and a smile came to his lips. But as he sat down and saw the others’ faces, his smile faded. “what’s wrong?”

They all exchanged a quick glance before Virgil explained. “When I went to the bathroom earlier, I found a folded-up letter on the floor of your room.” He paused breathing in and out to calm himself. “Why didn’t you tell us you were polyamorous?” He whispered.

Logan’s eyes went huge. It seemed his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets. “You-you found that?”

Virgil nodded. “I know you think we wouldn’t accept it, but we do.”

“Really?” Logan questioned.

“Of course, kiddo.”

“We do, nerd.”

Logan couldn’t believe it. “I had only heard negative stories. People are beaten, kicked out, and basically shunned just for being… being poly.”

“Oh kiddo. We would never do anything like that!”

“Yes, it seems I let my worries and fears get to me. You three are the kindest and most accepting people I’ve ever met. I wish I had been more reasonable.”

“No worries buddy. Believe me, sometimes fear does its own thing and you gotta roll with it.”

Logan smirked at that. “I guess so.”

A silence filled the room. Logan thought the worst was over. He contemplated telling the others of his relationship. The others were trying to figure out how to bring the second half of the discussion up.

Finally, Virgil spoke up. “We need to talk about your feelings.”

Logan’s head snapped up at that. “My feelings?” He didn’t understand.

Roman sighed. “From the letter, it seems you have feelings for some people.”

Logan blushed. “You could say that.”

It was Patton’s turn to talk. He put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “We need to know… do you like us?”

Well, that definitely was surprising. Logan looked at the others before he broke out in laughter. That clearly was not the reaction the others were expecting. “sorry I just…. Hahahaha…. You think I have feelings for you guys?”

“I’m guessing you don’t,” Roman responded.

Logan shook his head, unable to talk from his laughter. The others shortly began to laugh as well until they were all laughing their asses off. When they calmed down Virgil spoke.

“If it’s not us, then who?”

“Yes, specs! Who are they?”

Logan snickered a little. “there are these two guys…”

“Well tell us about them!” Roman screamed.

“I met Jackson at work. One night he asked me out for drinks. Since then we continued to hang out until he asked me out on a date.”

“That’s so cute!” Patton exclaimed.

“The date was great. We got along quite well. But then he seemed to avoid me. When I asked him about it he admitted to already being in a relationship and told me they were poly. He thought I would react bad, but I told him I was poly, too.”

“How long have you known?” Virgil questioned.

“For the past few years. I wondered why relationships never worked for me. I researched and came across the online poly community.  Something finally clicked in my brain. I finally understood a large part of myself.” He smiled, then continued. “Anyway, he introduced me to his boyfriend. It was a part of their rules that they meet each other’s romantic interests.”

“Their rules?”

“Yeah. Every polyamorous ‘group’ has unique rules set so no one oversteps boundaries. It’s to ensure no one gets hurt.”

“You know, monogamous relationships need to take note.”

Logan chuckled at that. “We never intended to get close, but we just clicked. After a while, he asked me out. I guess I’m irresistible.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Oh my God.”

“Anyways, we’re a triad.”

“A triad?” Roman asked confused.

“A triad is the name for when three people are all dating each other. We’re all partners as of six weeks ago.”

Squeal! They all jumped and faced Patton who had hands up to his face. “Sorry, I love love!”

“Yes! So, when is the wedding? I better be best man.”

After seeing Logan’s surprised expression, Virgil elbowed Roman. “Stop freaking him out. He just got in this relationship.” He faced Logan. “I’m assuming.”

Logan smiled. “Yes. That’s why I avoided you all. I was ‘hanging out’ with them.”

Roman wiggled his eyebrows. “You were ‘hanging out’ with them?”

Logan gave him a shove. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He laughed, but then stopped. His face fell. “I’m sorry for cutting you all out for weeks on end. I was caught up in my new relationship that I abandoned you guys.”

“Apology accepted nerd.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Roman, do you always have to call me by a nickname when addressing me?”

“Yes. I have no choice. It’s the law.”

Logan facepalmed. “Oh my God.”

“Stop bickering you two,” Patton ordered.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“So, when are we going to meet these guys?” Virgil asked.

Logan gave an evil smirk. “Not until you and Roman come forward about your relationship.”

Their eyes widened. “H-how-how did you know?”

“You two are painfully obvious.”

Virgil glanced at Roman who smiled and grasped Virgil’s hand in his. “You’ve caught us.”

Patton squealed again, causing everyone to laugh.

“Okay specs. We came forward, now when are we going to meet your guys? I love seeing my friends in love.”

Logan thought for a few seconds. “You guys busy this weekend? You could meet them here at my place.”

“That sounds super!”

“That works for me kiddo.”

“Ditto.”

Logan couldn’t get his smile to go away. It seemed it would be plastered on his face forever.

“I guess because you all came forward about your relationships, I should do the same.” They all turned to Patton, clearly surprised. “You know that guy I’ve liked at work? We have a date next week.”

The other three glanced at each other before turning back to Patton. They covered their faces with their hands, and gave aloud SQUEAL!

“Oh, shut up!”

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

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

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

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

Sound good?

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

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

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

First up: candidates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10 percent weaker?

You know what I mean?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: Yeah.

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

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

micah: Yeah, that’s why I’m confused.

Julia thinks they’re stronger maybe?

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

micah: That’s fair.

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

micah:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s talk other candidate characteristics.

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

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

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

micah: Case in point:

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

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

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

julia_azari: People LOVE Pete Buttigieg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: Oh what a moment that was.

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

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

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

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

julia_azari: I am getting there, Micah.

micah: Sorry

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

micah: lol

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

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

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

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

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

julia_azari: Yeah, that’s a good takeaway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: OK, policy time!

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

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

And voters won’t know the difference.

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

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

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

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

I doubt it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: OK, final thoughts …

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

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

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

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

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

[unleashthemidnight]

SPN goes NSP: Guess Who’s Back (Just In Time For The Christmas)

Christmas Calendar: Masterlist SPN goes NSP: GWB part 1, part 2, part 3 Chapter name: Let's get this terrible party started Pairing + others: Reader x Gabriel, Winchesters, Danny Sexbang Synopsis: You were doing preparations for the Christmas celebration with Sam and Dean in the bunker when the party invitation threw you in the loop. Word count: 1500+ Warnings: Crack, sexual references, language, song lyrics usage, The Frying Pan™ Notes: This is part of the Christmas Calendar and will be updated towards the Christmas. NSP is amazing band called NinjaSexParty, whose songs, covers and music videos I have used. Songs are listed at the end. Whooo boy, this is something else that I would normally write *cough* Hope you all enjoy this ride we are starting! This is also the shit that no one asked for. Reblogs and comments are loved Do not repost

The white lilies and the golden white light; something so beautiful yet so painful. The memories of the two of you and the painful end danced around each other in your head. You missed Gabriel. You missed his tricks and often stupid but brilliant ideas that made you laugh, as much as you sometimes hated to admit it. You just wished that he would be there with you. You would see again how his eyes would fill with childish joy when he was up to something. You wanted to see them full of hope when you ended up talking about things you wanted to do, when you talked about future, no matter how much it sometimes scared both of you. And oh, how those eyes would darken with lust when… Sigh. It had been long road to get this far from your deepest end but you had Winchesters, your brothers, helping you from the beginning. They had given you the time to grief and made sure that your basic needs were met when you didn't leave from your room until needed to. Little later they had kept you busy with hunts, research and other little tasks so you would think something else for a change. You needed to get moving even if you didn't move on.

”We're gonna need more coffee,” Dean's voice snapped you back to the reality. You were cooking breakfast and the boys were doing inventory as the preparations for the holidays. That meant that Sam was doing inventory while Dean sat at the table sipping his coffee. Sam went through the shelves throwing away all the stuff that should have been thrown away ages ago judging by the smell, and you all listed things that you still needed for the holidays. ”We would be at the store much quicker if you wouldn't just sit there and were actually helping me with this,” Sam complained. ”But I'm too hungry,” Dean mockingly whined back. The truth still was that he really was hungry, it had been awhile since you all had a proper meal. ”The food will be ready as soon as I can fry these eggs, just help Sam. For me? Then we can go to the store and we can pick up all the things we need and if you are on Santa's good list, I will get the ingredients for the pies,” you chimed in while picking up the frying pan. ”You used plural...” Dean pointed out the obvious, doubting your words. ”Yes.” You saw how quickly he moved around the counter to help his little brother. That was easy, you thought smile on your face. ”Hey guys, there's a letter in here…?” Sam picked an envelope from one of the old boxes of cereal. The envelope was decorated with various arts-and-crafts' gems and with fancy letters in the middle of it read ”You're Invited, Dickbags!” ”Let me see that.” Dean took the envelope, ripped it open and started reading it without caring how it ended up in the cereal box or from whom it could be. You had bad feeling about this. ”Oh shit! Congrats, your ass just got invited to the party of your life! Once every hundred thousand years the most epic party in this universe is hold as it was foretold in the scrolls. 'What scrolls?' I hear you asking. Who cares! It's NinjaSexParty -party so you know it's the shit. So take that pudding, pour it on your chest and let your pants hit the floor because your life was totally bullshit until right now. I hope you like fun 'cause we're having it! IT'S GO TIME!” As Dean read the end of the letter with no sender, the world shifted around you making the bunker and the letter disappear. Your head couldn't take the shifting, it made you nauseous. You found yourself lying on the cold floor with distant smell of the fumes and oil. This definitely wasn't the start of the party that one would be excepting after that kind of letter. What even is NinjaSexParty? You coughed and took couple of deep breaths. The hit on the floor was hard but nothing in your body was broken. As you rolled over so you could sit, you noticed your frying pan from the bunker close to you. Weird. ”Oh c'mon! What the hell...” you heard Dean's confusion with slight desperation on the side. ”You alright?” Sam asked as he helped you up. ”Yeah, little bit dizzy but nothing that I can't manage,” you answered and looked around bit more. You were in pale, almost empty two car garage. With you there was four people sitting around cheap knock-off table. The people were dressed up like your typical Hollywood style nerds that were too focused on the game to notice you. ”Um… Hey guys. You playing Dungeons and Dragons or…?” Dean asked from the group catiously, prepared for possible fight. You all needed to find out what happened and how to get back home, now. But before any of the guys could even answer to you, the door to the house flung open making three of you jump. ”ALL RIGHT! This party is off to a bit of a slow start but soon it's gonna melt your brain and fishslap your heart. Check out this leaf-collecting album or two that I made back in autumn,” a tall, slim man with darker curly hair in red silky robe announced and throwed 5 different albums of leafs at Sam, who couldn't hold them all. ”And don't get me started on the balloons! Want 'em? I got 'em!” The man pointed at two different sizes balloons hanging sadly on the wall. Next he slapped Dean on the shoulder. ”Just wait when the music starts to drop, the vibe's gonna change. We've got the country-themed metal garage band,” he continued while walking past of Dean in the middle of the room doing a little spin, ”oh, and the hot girls are showing up, I'm so sorry you had to wait but now they're finally inflated. This shit right here would make the hobbit say 'to the hell with the Shire'! SO GET THIS FREAKING PARTY STARTED!” As he ended his speech, the music started to play and more people walked through the door in different costumes that you could get from thrift store. There was '70s disco, brightly colored suits and velor jumpsuits. Leopard minks, moccasins, gold chains, the list went on. Someone was wearing your grandpa's clothes. You were stunned, not only about you ending up in someone's garage but you could recognize those curry and coffee stains on your grandpa's clothes anywhere. What the hell was going on? ”Did he just...” Dean looked at you and Sam and saw the same look on your faces as he had on his. ”The girls are inflated. As...” you pointed questioning even though you could actully see them as they were, standing in the corner. Just waiting there. Patiently. ”It seems so,” Sam answered. One of the other quests asked one of the dolls to dance with them. It seemed that they said yes and now they both were slow dancing across the floor and past you. ”Alright then… We have to do something about all this, soon,” Dean sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose. You all decided that everyone would talk to different groups of people and see what information you could get. You didn't know what to except when you started to mingle with other quests but this wasn't it. You met a guy who played football and told you that he once won the whole super bowl by himself. Weightlifter said that they could bench an entire continental shelf. One told you they were a scientist who cured all diseases last week. There were also the dragon slayer who found the Dragon's cave at ninety million hundred fifty thousand hundred feet in the air and fought his army of awesome karate bears. That one guy was naked for no reason at all. You also met Manticore who shouldn't even been in this party. You didn't want to ask. ”Why hello there beautiful,” the man from earlier, the one with the silky robe who seemed to be the host, slided next to you, ”I'm Danny Sexbang and I'd like to ask you out on the hottest of dates. Let's ditch these losers and go somewhere else more... appropiate?” he suggested and gave you a rose. Why didn't you pick up the frying pan when you had the chance? ”Hold one hot minute there Casanova,” Dean interrupted, ”Y/N here isn't going anywhere with you and we have couple questions that need answers right now.” ”What's wrong guys? I thought this would be your kind of party! I made this just for you. Not enough of girls?” Danny pretended to be schoked. ”Who the hell are you and why are we here?” Dean demanded to know as Sam found his way to you. ”Oooh, I'm Danny Sexbang, the toughest fucking ninja that you've ever seen but that's all in the past. Let's talk about that other thing some other time,” Danny answered with finger guns and took couple steps backwards from you as other quests slowly formed a ominous circle around you. All of this seemed like a bad dream. Yeah, you must be dreaming. You would probably wake up soon enough. ”Okay, so, this party sucks. Let's explode this building!” You heard Danny yelling. ”WAIT WHAT - -” The world around you shifted again.

Fun fact: People in the party were totally dancing the dances you can see in I just wanna dance -video and the Dragon dance in Dragon Slayer -video.

Christmas Calendar tag: @sumara62, @authoressskr, @serendiptious-esparza, @be-fantastic, @pizzamanteachings Gabriel tag: @nobodys-baby-now @dlb1999

Hit me with ask or message if you would like to join either one of these lists!

NinjaSexParty's songs used in this fic:

Let's get this terrible party started! x

I just wanna dance x

Dragon Slayer x

Ninja Brian was so Ninja that you couldn't see him under the table..

[adorkablephil]

Fic: Happily Ever After 7 (Commitment)

Title: Happily Ever After Rating: Teen (for Dan’s language, as usual) Word Count for This Chapter: 6.6K Summary: Dan proposes marriage, but Phil’s reaction isn’t quite what he’d been expecting or hoping for. Genre(s): Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposals, Gay Marriage, Commitment, Relationship Issues Author’s Note: Kindly ignore the fact that the Isle of Man is not in fact part of the UK, but rather “a self-governing crown dependency,” which complicates the bureaucratic side of things for a couple of English guys getting married there. With the magic wand of the fiction writer, I proclaim that all necessary licenses, provisions, permissions, and such legal niceties were easily obtained, and everything in my fictional little world happens simply and smoothly for my fictional Dan and Phil. Also available on AO3 here

[Masterlist of all “Happily Ever After” chapters on Tumblr]

[moodboard inspired by this chapter]

Chapter 7: Commitment

They got together to Skype all their close family to tell them the news.

Phil amused himself by allowing their conversation with his parents to meander through 15 minutes of random chitchat before he finally said, “So I hear you guys have been waiting months to find out my answer to a very important question.”

Phil’s mum had actually squealed, hands covering her mouth as she glanced from one of them to the other. “Really?” she breathed. Dan and Phil raised their hands to show her the engagement rings they were both wearing, and she threw her arms around Phil’s dad with a happy cry. All four of them beamed with happiness.

Phil’s dad said gruffly, “Now, I’m not going to ask what took so long, because that’s your private business, but I will say I’m glad you finally saw sense, son.” Then he had looked between them as his wife had done and grinned, “I suppose you’ll both be my sons now.” When he said it, he looked the happiest Dan had ever seen him.

Dan’s parents had responded with more reserved congratulations. They’d long ago accepted Phil’s place in Dan’s life, but Dan’s father had been raised Catholic, and it still tinged the family’s attitudes. They’d never treated Phil badly, but neither had they been warmly welcoming. They both smiled over the Skype connection, but they couldn’t hide the fact that they seemed more resigned than excited about their son’s decision.

The real issue had been Dan’s grandmother. They’d always been very close, but she was extremely religious and for the past seven years had persisted in referring to Phil always as Dan’s “friend,” “flatmate,” or “work colleague.” Dan didn’t like to think the word about someone who had loved and supported him so much throughout his life, but he had some time ago accepted that she was homophobic.

“I can call her on my own,” he offered. “We don’t have to do it together.”

Phil looked concerned. “Is that what you want to do?”

Dan licked his lips nervously and explained, “I’m just afraid … she might say something … you know how she is.”

Nodding, Phil said, “Yeah, I know. But I’d rather we do this together, unless you really don’t want to.”

Dan took his hand, worried. “I know you’re nervous about dealing with people who won’t understand … and I can pretty much guarantee that she is not going to understand. I just don’t want her to upset you.”

Phil kissed him gently, then smiled. “You don’t have to protect me. I’m the one who decided that I’m ready to do this, and I spent a good long while making sure I was certain. I’m ready to face the world with you, and that even includes scary grandmas.”

Dan laughed, which he knew had been Phil’s intention, and shrugged. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

As predicted, Dan’s grandmother had not reacted well. When they’d told her they were getting married, she had only shaken her head disapprovingly and insisted, “Daniel, you don’t need to do this. You’ll find a nice girl. What about that girl you were dating?”

Dan sighed. “I haven’t dated a girl since I was 17, grandma. Phil and I have been together for 7 years and we’re really happy together. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together.” She still looked as if she had just bitten into a lemon.

Dan felt Phil’s hand on his and looked at him in question. Phil squeezed his hand and looked back at the laptop camera. “I know how special you are to Daniel, Mrs. Howell, so I look forward to getting to know you better now that we’re going to be family. I know he loves you very much.”

Her face softened marginally, but Dan knew she would most likely phone him tomorrow to try to talk him out of it again. He wondered how this would work over the years, whether she would ever be able to learn to respect his love for Phil. Of everyone in his family, she’d always been the one he felt closest to. She had always offered him a kind of gentle warmth and kindness that did not seem to come naturally to his parents, and he loved her fiercely for it. Perhaps his love for her and tolerance of her prejudices might even have actually helped him to be more patient with Phil’s long struggle than he might otherwise have been. But if her prejudices ever threatened his relationship with Phil …

He hoped that he would never be forced to choose, because if he were ever forced to make that choice, he knew he would choose love over hate, and he would lose his grandmother from his life forever.

Dan didn’t see why this was even a question. “Howell-Lester.”

Phil was persistent. “No. Lester-Howell.”

Dan sighed. “No. It’s always been ‘Dan and Phil,’ so we should keep to the same order. Howell-Lester.”

Phil nodded. “Right. You’ve had your turn at going first. My turn. Lester-Howell.”

Dan tilted his head and put on his best patient, logical voice. “But ‘Howell-Lester’ is alphabetical. It’s only fair.”

Phil got a sort of sneaky look in his eyes, making Dan suspicious. Then Phil said, “But think about which one is more aesthetic, Dan. ‘Howell-Lester’ has three L’s in a row in the middle. That just isn’t … aesthetically pleasing.”

Dan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re mocking me.”

Phil wheedled, “But it’s true, right?”

Dan sighed crossly. “I don’t know…”

Phil left the room for a moment, then came back with a notepad Dan recognized from their trip to Japan, the paper delicately scattered with cherry blossoms that cascaded from a tree blooming at the top of the page. They almost never used paper notepads, so this one had obviously survived years stashed somewhere in the flat. Phil handed Dan the notepad and a pen.

“Write them both down,” Phil said, gesturing to the paper.

Dan heaved another noisy sigh, wanting to make his impatience clear, and wrote across the cherry blossoms, Daniel Howell-Lester, then, on the next line, Daniel Lester-Howell.

Phil watched his face and asked, “So … what do you think?”

Dan had to admit that Phil might have a point, but he really didn’t want to give in. “It’s not so bad…”

Phil scoffed, “Yeah, right. Now write them both in all caps.”

Dan wrote, DANIEL HOWELL-LESTER, then DANIEL LESTER-HOWELL, then groaned, “Oh god.” He tossed the pen and notepad onto the coffee table in disgust and put his hands over his face. “Those three L’s … all in the middle together like that … arrrgh!” He brought his hands down and glanced at the innocent notepad again. “And the other one … it has kind of a nice balance and symmetry, with the two L’s in the center and two L’s at the end. But … those three L’s in ‘HOWELL-LESTER’…” He made an exaggerated gagging noise. “Okay, you’re right: I couldn’t deal with that for the rest of my life. We’ll go with Lester-Howell.” He sulked, “I hope you’re happy.”

Dan saw Phil’s right index finger stroke the platinum ring he wore on his other hand as he said softly, “I am. Aren’t you?”

Dan fought it—he really did—but he could feel a smile start to bloom on his face. He still tried to grouse, though. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, I am happy. I don’t like to admit it, because I feel like I’m losing an argument, but I am. I am happy.”

Phil’s face seemed lit from within when he said, “I love you, Daniel Lester-Howell.”

Dan held up his hands. “Whoa there, cowboy! You have to make an honest man of me before you can call me that.” He grinned.

Phil grinned back. “I can’t wait.”

Dan really didn’t want to bring this up, but they were going to have to leave the flat at some point, and then it would become an issue. He hadn’t been thinking about it before, but now…

He sat beside Phil on the sofa and took his left hand, gently caressing the ring shining on Phil’s finger. “You know, I spent a long time choosing these engagement rings … but I actually think we probably shouldn’t wear them.”

Phil looked distressed. “Why? Is it the coming out issue? Because I’m really okay with that now. I mean, I know in a perfect world we’d obviously really prefer to continue keeping our personal lives private, but … we’ve talked about starting a family, Dan. I think it’d be pretty hard to convince anybody that we’re just friends if we start adopting kids together.”

“Except maybe my grandma,” Dan joked darkly.

Phil smiled slightly to acknowledge the jest but didn’t reply.

Dan stopped. Rewound. “Wait, did you say ‘kids,’ plural?”

Phil shrugged shyly and looked down, then back up to meet Dan’s gaze. He was giving puppy dog eyes. “I thought one kid might be lonely. We could see how it goes…”

Dan hugged him. “Let’s see how it goes. If we don’t accidentally kill the first one within a couple days…”

Phil groaned a laugh and covered his face with his hands. “Don’t even joke about that! You’re giving me ‘Who’s Your Daddy?’ flashbacks! Our kid is going to crawl around intentionally looking for the bleach and electrical sockets.”

Dan admitted, “I’ve been figuring we’d wait a few years, anyway, before we even start thinking about it.”

Phil nodded. “Wise man.” Then he looked confused. “But if it isn’t about the coming out issue, why are you not wanting to wear the rings?”

Dan sighed. This hurt. “It’s not that I don’t want to wear them, because I do! It’s that … well … I love our fans … but some of them are a little…”

Phil leaned back in his chair, eyes wide. “Oh.”

Dan grimaced. “Yeah. I mean, if they wait around airports for hours when they know we’re just trying to catch a plane, imagine what they’d do if they knew we were planning a wedding.”

Phil sighed. “Some of them would spend months trying to find out where and when.”

Dan nodded. “And I don’t want the most important moment of my life getting interrupted by a fan running in to ask for a selfie in the middle of our vows. And I don’t want to have to establish some kind of security perimeter to prevent it, either.”

Phil looked unhappy. “So we don’t wear the rings?” He looked down at the platinum band on his finger with its winking aquamarine stone.

Dan sighed. “I think we probably shouldn’t. Not until after the ceremony.”

Phil made an exaggerated pouty face and begged, “Maybe just around the flat?” which made Dan laugh.

Dan knew just how he felt. “And maybe we should move up the date we were planning.”

So they started making plans for something maybe a month away, determined that they’d somehow make it happen because they didn’t want to wait.

“Okay. So. The vows. Do we want to just each write them separately and surprise each other at the ceremony, or talk about them a little bit?”

Phil pondered. “Well, it would be kind of weird if they were dramatically different in tone or something.”

“Yeah. So. Maybe talk about some themes we want to touch on?”

“Honesty.”

“Trust.”

“Kindness.”

“Patience.”

Phil nodded vigorously. “Definitely patience! I can’t believe you put up with me these past few months!”

Dan was honestly surprised. “Me being patient with you? I was thinking about you being patient with me!”

Phil gaped at him. “How could you be thinking that after everything I put you through? You’ve had the patience of a saint!”

Dan wasn’t going to let Phil beat himself up about this forever. “Think about it, though. I mean, the bigger picture. Yeah, the past few months were really hard, but we were talking, I could tell you were working through some serious shit, and it was hard work for you. But have you forgotten that you sat through my daily pathetic angst for more than a year when I was at uni, and thinking about dropping out, then dropping out and worrying that I was throwing my life away? You never told me to hurry the fuck up and make a decision. You never told me to quit the whining. You listened to me every single day, and you let me cry on your shoulder, and you didn’t tell me what to do but you did tell me your opinions, and you gave me the time and space to work it out on my own while still giving me support through the whole thing.”

“Dan … that was a long time ago,” Phil said dismissively. “You were just a kid then.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but how long ago was it that you last found me face down on the hallway carpet in some kind of downward spiral of existential doubt about the meaninglessness of trying to accomplish anything in a world where we’re all just going to die and nothing really matters?”

Phil bit his lip. “Um. Okay, yeah. That was more recent.”

Dan nodded, then continued, “And it’s happened a lot. For years. And you’re always patient with me when it happens. You don’t tell me to get my emo ass up off the carpet or hurry me to just get over it. You hang out with me and talk to me, let me talk to you, listen to what I have to say and tell me what you think in return. We do it together. And sometimes you leave me alone when I need it. You try to understand where I’m coming from, and you’re patient with me. You’re always patient with me. You’re the one who has the patience of a saint, Phil.”

Phil still had that hangdog guilty expression on his face, though. “It’s not the same. You asked me to marry you, and I said no! And I said terrible things! Then I made you sit around for months waiting for me!”

Dan was determined to make Phil see his perspective in this. “You didn’t say no, and you didn’t ‘make’ me do anything. You said you needed to think. So you did a lot of thinking, and you worked through your shit, and you came up with the obviously right decision to marry my ass. And now we’re moving on … together. We’re past it. But you’re still going to find me face down in the hallway once in a while. And you’re going to have to deal with me occasionally losing my shit over a video not being perfect enough. Admit it, Phil: I’m not that easy to deal with. But when it comes to the boyfriend lottery, I hit the fucking jackpot. You might leave cupboards open and steal my cereal, but you’re otherwise pretty much perfect. You’re like the nicest person I’ve ever met in my life! You’re always there for me, and when we disagree you always let me calm down before you try to talk to me about it, and you don’t mind if I stay up on Tumblr for hours instead of coming to bed with you, and you listen to me rant about things even when you don’t care…”

Phil interrupted him, “Dan! Stop! You do realize that I’m happy with you, right?” He looked honestly concerned.

Dan squeezed Phil’s hand and leaned over to kiss him gently, just a little one. “Yeah. That’s my point. It makes no sense to me sometimes, but I do believe you. I’ve never doubted it, never doubted that you love me, never doubted you, not for a second. And that’s why I was able to wait for a few months while you worked through something really big.”

Phil blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I just looked at the big picture. And in the big picture, I would have been a complete idiot to let you get away if there was any chance that we could work things out … if there was any chance that you might choose me … choose this…” And he gestured at the laptop where they’d been taking notes for the ceremony.

Waiting for Phil had been hard, but a life without him would have been a lot harder.

Phil leaned in for another kiss, and this one wasn’t as little or as quick.

An hour or so later, they were back to planning. Dan said, “I want to make sure the ceremony is as much ‘us’ as possible.”

Phil suggested with a straight face, “So you’re saying we should just play Mario Kart at the altar instead of reciting vows?”

“Ha bloody ha. You know what I mean.”

Phil nodded affably. “Well, then, I should stand at the altar and you should walk down the aisle to meet me, because it would be symbolic. You were the one who found me on YouTube.”

Dan pointed out, “Yeah, but it was really you who started the relationship by reaching out to respond to me on Twitter.”

That threw Phil off topic, as he wondered, “Do we need to invite the bosses of YouTube and Twitter to the wedding, since they were instrumental in the formation of our relationship?”

Dan frowned. “I don’t think so. But, wait, yeah, maybe we should invite Susan … uh … Susan … Wobblemijicki? Whatever her name is. She is kind of our boss.”

Phil looked uncertain. “Do you really have to invite your boss to your wedding?”

Dan gestured helplessly. “Well, hell if I know! Do I look like a wedding planner?” He held up a hand. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Phil’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we should ask my mum.”

Dan nodded eagerly. “Yeah, text her. Also, ask her which one of us has to walk down the aisle.”

Phil had been in the middle of pulling out his phone, but he stopped to hold up a finger. “How about we both walk down the aisle together, side-by-side.”

Dan thought about it. “Or we could not have an aisle at all, and just enter from opposite sides at the same time and meet in the middle.”

Phil exclaimed with glee, “It’s weird! Like us!”

Dan tilted his head and smirked, “We said we wanted to make the ceremony very ‘us’. So I guess maybe it might have to be a little weird.”

In the end, they decided not to invite Susan Wojcicki … or pretty much anyone else really … just close family. The guest list numbered only 15 people. No best man or groomsmen or flower girls … just Dan and Phil and the people they loved most. And some guy they didn’t know who was going to perform the ceremony. But they Skyped with him beforehand and he asked a lot of good questions and got to know them a bit, so they figured he’d probably do a decent job of it. He emailed them in advance what he was planning to say, and it sounded fine.

Phil really wanted to hold the ceremony on the beach where Dan had first proposed. “It’ll be symbolic!” he insisted. “Like I’m saying yes where I should have said it in the first place!”

“Phil,” Dan said calmly. “Think about it. That beach is rocky. Imagine slowly walking toward the altar over those shifty pebbles, looking into my eyes instead of watching where you’re going…”

Phil made a face. “Broken ankle for sure. You’re right.” He looked so disappointed—Dan felt bad for him.

“How about the hillside above the beach?” Dan suggested as a compromise, and Phil’s face brightened.

But when they told her the plan, Phil’s mum fretted that they couldn’t have an outdoor wedding because rain was certain to ruin it. Dan joked that if they got rained on, they could just call it a baptismal blessing by the gods, but she didn’t seem to think that was very funny, as she pointed out she was more worried about their formally-attired guests getting drenched. Dan and Phil were used to London’s weather, she insisted, and rain was a much more constant threat on the Isle of Man than they realized from their fairly brief visits.

When they explained the reason behind their choice of location, however, she was obviously deeply touched by the sentiment and suggested a nearby lighthouse that overlooked the beach in question. The octagonal lighthouse interior was large enough to accommodate their small party easily, and the quirkiness of the location seemed to fit with their personalities. She was overjoyed when they declared it a brilliant suggestion.

They’d decided that they didn’t want a really fancy ceremony, but they agreed that they wanted something appropriately formal and solemn to reflect the seriousness with which they viewed the commitment they were making, so Dan insisted that they both have clothes that were worthy of the occasion. Phil didn’t care and would have been willing to wear a suit he already owned, but Dan dragged him down to Savile Row to get a bespoke suit made by a respected tailor. When they talked about what Phil wanted, the tailor ended up recommending a color called “zaffre,” which is apparently what pretentious people call a shade of blue simultaneously dark and bright. They didn’t want Phil to look gaudy or outshine Dan, just show a bit of color to reflect his personality. Dan thoroughly approved of the choice.

In a fit of whimsy, Dan showed Phil a picture online of some suede Gucci hightop sneakers in a color that would complement his suit perfectly, and Phil fell in love with them, placing his order immediately. “I’m less likely to trip in sneakers than in fancy dress shoes,” he offered in defense of his choice, but Dan hadn’t needed him to defend the shoes. He thought they were perfect or he wouldn’t have shown Phil the photo.

Dan himself took the wedding as an excuse to get himself a Wales Bonner suit. She was a fairly new designer on the fashion scene, but he’d been a fan since he first noticed her unconventionally fluid vision of masculinity. He was excited to support her career and own a piece of her work, but since he didn’t want to freak out his grandma or any of their other comparatively conservative guests, he chose one of her more traditional designs for this particular occasion: a black suit and tie with a shirt dyed to exactly match the color of Phil’s suit. The tiniest peek of a white pocket handkerchief would be a nod to the white of Phil’s shirt.

At the last minute, they decided to ask Phil’s friend Mark, who had taken so many of the tour photos that made up DAPGO, to document the day, and he had gladly agreed.

Before they knew it, everything was planned. Now all they had to do was show up at the Isle of Man, wear some fancy clothes, say some fancy words, and they’d be married. Simple.

They were both nervous as hell … but at least they were nervous together.

When they woke in the Lesters’ guest room that morning, they just lay there in the quiet for a while, looking at each other. Dan knew he probably had an embarrassingly soppy look on his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. Phil was the one person in the world who was allowed to see his soppiest faces. And Phil was looking pretty soppy, himself.

“We’re getting married today,” Phil whispered in wonder, and they wrapped their arms around each other and held each other close for a long time.

They’d planned a short ceremony with fairly simple vows, because they felt they’d said all the most important things to each other already in private. This was merely their public declaration to the world, something to share with their families and make their commitment official.

Phil’s mum had arranged the octagonal room inside the lighthouse with simple but beautiful decorations. A sort of trellised arch stood at one end of the room on a low dais with a podium where the registrar would stand. White and blue flowers of various kinds twined all over the trellis, and simple white cloth chair covers hid the folding chairs where guests would sit. Blue flowers decorated the ends of each row of chairs. The wide windows that surrounded the room let the hazy summer sunlight stream in to shine on the freshly oiled wood floor and walls. It looked perfect.

Dan and Phil went to hide in a small separate room while the guests arrived and seated themselves. While they both tugged at their jackets and fussed with their hair, they could hear the voices of their family members greeting each other and settling down as a recording of soft piano music Dan had chosen played in the background. When the music fell silent, they knew that meant the registrar had assumed his position before the assembly. Dan and Phil met each other’s eyes, heaved a simultaneous deep breath, and waited for the signal.

When Dan heard Debussy’s Claire de Lune start, he glanced at Phil again and they exchanged small nervous smiles and a reassuring squeeze of their hands as they waited the planned several seconds, then left their private lair.

They entered the octagonal room together through the door behind the rows of chairs, and turned apart to walk simultaneously, each alone, up the separate sides of the room until they both turned to meet at the dais and step onto it, facing each other in front of the registrar. Dan wasn’t really aware of their audience, whether their eyes followed him and Phil as they walked, what expressions might be on his family’s faces, whether Mark was somewhere taking photos—he could only think of Phil, and of the poem which had inspired Debussy to write this beautiful music. Phil was the source of this incredible happiness Dan sometimes still found so difficult to believe that he had found. Phil was the pale moonlight that had illuminated his life and melted his sadness into the ecstasy of love.

Standing on the dais, he reached out and Phil met him halfway. They held each other’s hands as they had planned, and Phil’s were a little sweaty with nerves. Dan smiled at him, trying to look reassuring, trying not to let his own jitters show. Why should he be feeling nervous? He certainly had no doubts! It was just … this was it. In a few minutes, they would be married. He really hoped when it was his turn to speak he didn’t forget the vows he’d spent so many hours working on.

The music trailed off, and the room again filled with silence. The registrar looked from Dan to Phil, then back again, smiling in the blandly benign way friendly bureaucrats have. Then he looked out at their gathered family members and began to speak in a voice that rang pleasantly in the odd little room.

“Welcome, loved ones of Daniel Howell and Philip Lester, to witness the celebration of their joining in the joyous bonds of matrimony.” The man kept talking for a few minutes, but Dan couldn’t really focus on his words. He and Phil had okayed them in advance in email, but right now, in the moment, all he could see was Phil’s eyes shining in the sunlight that came through the windows, and all he could hear was the beating of his own heart. Nothing else mattered. Then he jolted to attention when he heard the registrar say, “Daniel and Philip have both prepared some words to say. Philip, would you like to begin?”

Phil nodded, his hands squeezing Dan’s a little harder, and Dan saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, but he looked into Dan’s eyes with a joy Dan couldn’t doubt as he began to speak. “Dan, I never knew it was possible for me to love anyone as much as I love you. I always knew I was kind of weird…” There were soft chuckles in the audience, but Dan’s attention was all on Phil as he continued with a small smile, “I never thought I’d meet someone who understood me like you do, someone who would see my weirdnesses and love them, someone who would make me feel truly accepted and appreciated for everything I am. Even when I steal your cereal.” A quick grin from Phil and more quiet chuckles from the audience. Then Phil’s face settled into serious lines again. “Dan, when I look in your eyes, I see everything I want for our future: I see love, and trust, and patience, and kindness, and honesty even when it’s something I don’t want to hear. Because you challenge me to be a better person, and I love you all the more for that. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side, holding your hand and facing everything that the world might bring us, always together. So today I offer myself to you, body and soul, heart and mind, with the promise that for the rest of my life I will do everything in my power to be as good a partner to you as you have always been to me.”

The registrar nodded and turned to Dan. “Daniel?”

Dan nodded and took a calming breath before he began. “Phil, I never knew it was possible for me to love anyone as much as I love you. My life was so dark before we met, and then suddenly you shone this bright sunlight into my heart and I have never been the same since. You make my life better every day, simply by being in it with me, and I don’t know if I’ve ever really told you how grateful I am to you for that. Sometimes darkness still pulls at me, but you are always there to pull me back into the light, and I can’t imagine my life without you—I don’t want to. I want to spend every day with you for the rest of my life, sharing all of life’s challenges and all of life’s joys. I want to hold your hand when you need comfort, and I want to turn to you when it’s me that needs support, because I know that we will always be there for each other. You will always be my favorite person on the planet, even after you’ve gotten old and wrinkly and aren’t so ridiculously pretty anymore.” A smattering of laughter. “I trust you with all my heart, and I promise to always try to be as kind and patient as you are by your very nature without even trying. I know I’ll slip up sometimes, but I also know that you will forgive me and help me, just as you always have done. And I will try to always do the same. So today I offer myself to you, body and soul, heart and mind, with the promise that for the rest of my life I will do everything in my power to be as good a partner to you as you have always been to me.”

The registrar nodded again, solemn and formal, before intoning, “Daniel and Philip would now like to exchange rings as a token of their commitment.” Dan fished in his pocket, sure that he would have lost the ring. Or maybe Phil would have lost his ring. Nothing had gone wrong yet, which wasn’t very “Dan and Phil,” so he was just waiting for the inevitable disaster. But then his fingers felt the small circle of metal in his pocket and he pulled it out with a sigh of relief. The registrar said, “Daniel, please repeat after me. ‘I, Daniel James Howell, take you, Philip Michael Lester, to be my wedded husband.’”

Dan fidgeted with the ring in his hand, then stopped, certain that he would drop it. “Um, I, Daniel James Howell, take you, Philip Michael Lester, to be my wedded husband.” He slid the ring onto Phil’s left ring finger with not too much effort, then grinned at him like a loon. Phil grinned back, and Dan looked down to see that the other ring was already in Phil’s hand. He looked much calmer now than Dan was feeling.

Dan’s stomach was doing an excited dance and he kept feeling like he might laugh out loud. He tried to stand still and act like a normal person getting married. They were almost done!

He missed the registrar, but clearly heard Phil when he said, “I, Philip Michael Lester, take you, Daniel James Howell, to be my wedded husband.” And then Phil’s hands were gentle on his as he held the platinum band Dan had purchased so long ago with such dreams of this day, and he slid the ring onto Dan’s finger smoothly and easily. Dan looked up from the ring into Phil’s eyes, and he could feel the sting of impending tears. He was not going to cry!

Now came the part Dan and Phil had requested, not wanting only individual promises but also a final moment when they joined together in voicing one last vow. The registrar asked, “Do you, Philip Michael Lester, and you, Daniel James Howell, take each other to be lawfully wedded husbands from this day forward, to love and support each other through good times and bad, until death shall part you?”

Dan and Phil, holding hands tightly, looked at the registrar and said together, “We do,” then turned to look into each other’s eyes again.

The registrar’s voice seemed to ring through the room as he announced, “I now pronounce you legally wed.” He gave them a brief moment to gaze wonderingly at each other, then gestured for them to face their families. “I present to you Daniel and Philip Lester-Howell.” Their families clapped, some more enthusiastically than others. Dan saw his grandma’s polite society face as he glanced around, but also heard Martyn give out a whoop of approval. He turned to look at Phil again, and they walked forward to the group waiting for them.

Phil’s mum, sitting in the front row with Phil’s dad and Dan’s parents, rushed forward to hug them both before anyone else even had a chance. When she hugged Dan, she sobbed, “We love you so much, Dan!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she patted at her face and eyes with a handkerchief when she pulled away.

And then they were swamped with hugs and congratulations from every direction, separated by the throng of excited well-wishers as everyone came forward, all talking at once. Dan’s dad shook his hand first, then pulled him into an awkward hug without saying anything before passing him to his mum, who hugged him a bit more warmly and said, “I’m so happy for you, Bear.” Dan smiled down at her when she released him, and then he glanced across the room to try to meet Phil’s eyes.

Phil was hugging Cornelia, who was chattering enthusiastically, but his eyes when they met Dan’s said that this moment was really about the two of them alone, no matter how many other people might be in the room.

The small reception at the Lesters’ house spilled into their lovely back garden, where Phil’s mum had erected a marquee in case of the dreaded rain. The sky, however, had cleared, and sun now shone on the happily mingling group among the profusion of tea rose bushes, hyacinths, and primroses.

Holding Phil’s hand while talking with Martyn and Cornelia, Dan saw his grandmother in conversation with Phil’s mum and wondered if perhaps in time Kathryn’s warmth might help thaw his grandma’s reserve. Later, in passing, he heard his grandma say, “That’s such a kind offer, Kathryn, and it really is so lovely here. I’d be very glad to visit sometime, as you’re kind enough to invite me. We are family now, after all.” Dan’s heart swelled, just knowing that she was making such an effort for his sake. She might still be uncomfortable with the idea of him and Phil, but Phil’s welcoming family was sure to win her over eventually.

He turned back to his own conversation in time to hear Cornelia ask whether he and Phil had written their vows together. Phil replied, “We collaborated on the first and last sentences, because we wanted the ceremony to feel cohesive, but neither of us knew what the other was going to say in between.” He looked into Dan’s eyes. “What you said was so beautiful.”

Dan leaned down for a brief kiss—nothing too heavy in front of the entire fam—and replied with a heart-felt, “You, too.”

They ended up separated, but Phil found him again eventually, and his cheeks were pink.

“What’s up?” Dan asked, taking his hand again. He couldn’t seem to stop doing that today. It just felt good to be joined with Phil in some physical, tangible way after such an emotionally intense experience.

His husband. Phil was his husband now. He squeezed Phil’s hand, then remembered the funny look on his face.

Phil leaned close to tell him quietly, “We aren’t staying the night here in the guest room.”

Confused, Dan asked, “What? Why? Then where are we staying?”

Phil shifted from one foot to the other, an obvious sign that he was uncomfortable, then said, “My parents rented us one of the little cottages near the village.”

Dan tilted his head in question, knowing Phil would explain without him asking.

Phil put his lips right next to Dan’s ear and whispered, “My mum insisted. She said tonight is the one night in my life when I shouldn’t have to worry about my mum overhearing me in the next room.”

Dan laughed out loud and pulled Phil into a hug. Phil really did have the best family.

“I guess maybe we haven’t always been as discreet as we thought.”

Phil brushed even brighter and Dan laughed again, loud and happy.

A month later, their suitcases still unpacked from the honeymoon, they sat side-by-side on the sofa in their flat, each with their laptop open on their knees, both with Twitter windows prepped. They exchanged glances.

“Ready?” Dan asked, and Phil nodded. “1, 2, 3!” They hit the buttons at the same time. Dan’s Twitter name changed at the same moment that Phil’s did.

Then they turned to Tumblr, then Instagram, and so on, until everywhere on social media they were Daniel Lester-Howell and Phil Lester-Howell. Then they closed their laptops, not planning to open them again until tomorrow. Tonight was for them. Tonight was for anime and cuddles on the couch and long kisses and no worries about anything or anyone outside this cozy flat.

“Pizza for dinner?” Dan asked casually, and his wonderful, beautiful, amazing husband nodded with the loveliest smile in the world.

[moodboard inspired by this chapter]

[Continue to the Epilogue]

[democratsunited-blog]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sound good?

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

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

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

First up: candidates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10 percent weaker?

You know what I mean?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: Yeah.

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

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

micah: Yeah, that’s why I’m confused.

Julia thinks they’re stronger maybe?

💪

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

micah: That’s fair.

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

micah: 🎺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s talk other candidate characteristics.

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

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

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

micah: Case in point:

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

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

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

julia_azari: People LOVE Pete Buttigieg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: Oh what a moment that was.

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

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

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

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

julia_azari: I am getting there, Micah.

micah: Sorry

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

micah: lol

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

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

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

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

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

julia_azari: Yeah, that’s a good takeaway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: OK, policy time!

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

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

And voters won’t know the difference.

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

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

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

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

I doubt it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

micah: OK, final thoughts …

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

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

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

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

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

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