#cl-51

[carbone14]

Le croiseur léger USS Atlanta (CL-51) pendant des essais en mer – Novembre 1941

©Naval History and Heritage Command - NH 57455

[cypherscript]

Linchpin Part 2

"I am not familiar with this group. Batman? Superman," Wonder Woman asks the two with the most hidden knowledge of Man's world.

Hal Jordan just groans into his hands, "Not those buffoons. I used to hear jokes back when I was in the Air Force. They're almost as bad as the area 51 conspiracists. Always claiming our bases were haunted by high level ecto beings. Ghosts aren't even real!"

Batman is listening to something on his earpiece, "Ghosts are real, Lantern. One is a member of the JL Dark "

"When was anyone going to tell me?! Now I look stupid."

Red Robin mouths to batman, 'Now?'

Batman pointedly ignores that and continues, "That knowledge has always been available if you read the reports properly. Regardless, Oracle has provided me with some more information on this organization; a comparatively small G-List government group tasked with hunting down, capturing and experiment on beings of ectoplasmic origins or ghosts to civilians."

T̵̪͗h̵̬̊ē̴̤y̵̪̅ ̸͇͗h̵͙͂ẽ̸̘l̶̎͜d̸̗̃ ̵̼̆o̴̪͐ȕ̷̞r̸͚̚ ̷̗́c̸͚͐i̶̙̔ť̵̟y̷͔̚ ̷̧̒h̴͕͑o̵̼̊s̸̰̈t̷̙͝a̷̯̓ģ̶͊e̴̦͐,̴͔̋ ̸͉̒t̵̩͌ḩ̴̋r̵̜̐e̵̙͝a̷̡͋t̵̜͌e̷͉̕n̸̼̾ě̸̩d̴͎̕ ̸͖̏o̵̱͒ụ̴̑r̴͈̚ ̷̨͂p̴͓̎e̴͍͝o̸̼̍p̶͕̋l̴̛͔ȇ̵̟/

(They held our city hostage, threatened our people.)

Ť̵̹h̷̙̓e̴̯͗ ̵͎̑G̷̣̀r̷͜͠e̴̩̽ą̴̍ẗ̷̪́ ̵̜͌O̵͕̿n̸̲͒e̸̤͝ ̴͇̄t̴͈̋r̴̡̍i̶̩͊é̴͙d̷̞͋ ̶̬͌t̸̮̀ö̸̢́ ̸̯̎f̷͍̽r̸͚̿e̶̬̎e̶̯͠ ̶̡͛t̴͙͗h̴͖̓e̷̥͝i̸̞̎r̶̳͑ ̶̭͐c̷͔̀ì̵͎ẗ̶̙ỷ̴͚

(The Great One tried to free their city.)

B̵͔͆a̷͖̔b̵̧̑y̶͕͒p̴̪͝o̶̰͗p̵̪͛ ̴͒͜s̸̱̊a̴͇̐c̸͍͠r̴̩̃í̸͕ḟ̶̤ǐ̷̘c̴̛̱ȇ̷͙d̵̮͆ ̴͓́h̴̙̓i̵̲͌m̵̗̌s̶̥̓ë̶͜ḻ̴̑f̶̖͝ ̵̥̆j̸̫̆u̷̮̍s̷̖̀ṯ̷̀ ̵̨͑t̴͔͛o̵̦͘ ̴̗͊g̷̠̎e̷̱͗t̶̘́ ̵͔͠t̷͎͆h̸̬̀o̷̟͆s̷̤͝e̸̹̓ ̴̮̈́j̸̛̮ê̶͓r̸̤̈́k̷̮̄s̷͎̽ ̶̨̅o̵̖̊u̴̺͑t̶͍̃ ̶̭̂ö̵̮́f̶̖̕ ̸̺̌A̶̯̋m̸̯̿i̴̲͆ẗ̵̡́y̷͕̓.̸̛̭

(Babypop sacrificed himself just to get those jerks out of Amity.)

T̴̨̉h̸̻́e̶̲̊ỳ̸͕ ̵͚̊r̴̥̔ë̶͈́ṅ̸̫e̸͓͝g̷͔̎e̷̖̕d̴͚͌ ̵̹͒ó̶̤ṉ̵͒ ̷̹̚t̷͔͌h̵̿ͅè̷͜i̴̐͜r̷̪̄ ̵̩̒d̴̛̮ě̴̠a̴̞͛l̸̻̐ ̴̹̿t̴̙̓h̴̯́ó̴͍u̷̠̾g̷̟͝ẖ̵̏ ̸̭̚a̷̤͌n̵͖̎d̷̬̔ ̴̈́ͅA̵̜͗m̵̬̕ȋ̵̠ṯ̸̓y̷̟̓ ̵̺̄P̶̥̉ä̴̫́r̸̪̂k̵͈̑ ̵̥̈́î̸͇s̸͓͂ ̴̡͒n̷̩͛o̵̰͑ ̸̠̚m̵̨̀o̴̭̔r̶̥̔e̵̼̋.̷͙̆

(They regened on their deal though and Amity Park is no more.)

Red Robin takes this new information and inputs it into the Watchtower's computers and pulls up a satellite image of Amity Park, IL and just finds a blackened hole in the ground several miles wide.

Batman's suit groans as his fist clenches before turning away from the table, "Superman with me, Red Robin contact Cyborg. We're bringing this group to justice. No organization should have the ability to wipe an entire city off the face of the earth."

"Right behind you, Batman." Superman quickly takes off after him.

"What about the rest of us," Flash yells at him as he leaves.

"Everyone else should pool their resources together and try to come up with a way to slow down, stop or even reverse the Decay Field. Technology, magic, I don't care even ask your rogues if need be but this needs to be stopped."

______________________________________________

Base Gamma-5, IL

Superman and Batman stare down on an old seemingly unused military base. Superman's eyes shimmering as he looks over the area with his x-ray vision.

"So?"

"Skeleton crew of scientists, minimal guards but there is definitely activity underground."

"Any centralized location?"

"What, hoping for a big open room where all the bad guys can get together and start throwing hands?"

"..."

"Don't look at me like that, I blame Kon and Jon, I don't even know how that phrase became a common thing."

"Hn. I was asking for a central area to reduce any unnecessary structural damage our encounter is likely to cause."

Superman focuses as he resumes looking, freezing in place as a rictus of anger covered his face and he takes off. Explosions of steel and concrete echo through the forest as Superman flies through the base's defenses and high speed. Bruce gives a withering sigh as he fires off a grapple and follows behind Clark.

Shortly after Bruce finds Clark deep into the base, a large metal door ripped off its track and him threatening a scientist. "What is the meaning of this, who is this?!"

"What is this, you mean. It's ectoplasmic scum."

"You better pick your words carefully, that is a dead child in a TANK. I have VERY short patience for people like you."

Batman appears behind him, "I'd listen to him if I were you."

The scientist sneer at the sight of him, "Batman. I see you managed pull yourself out of that ecto-contaminated cesspool you call a city. You still reek of it."

Superman lifts him even higher and shakes him in one hand, "Don't look at him, looks at me and answer my question. WHO. IS. HE."

"P-Phantom. He was an ectoplasmic entity that breached the veil five years ago. He was the strongest power level in decades. The last time something like him was detected was in 1902 in North Carolina. Psychics all over three states surrounding it felt it appear."

"Who killed him?"

"Agent A, just over four years ago. He bagged him in a small town called Amity Park. There's records he had been there for over a year, check them."

"We can't, Amity Park has been a smoking crater for some time."

"What? Did the ghosts do it?"

"You did it, your organization did it," Superman shakes him hard to make his point.

"Superman."

Superman drops the scientist on his ass, "Fine, you deal with him. I'm likely to do something we'll both regret if he stays in my sight. I'm going to go get Phantom's body."

"Why is the Justice League even here?! You should be thanking us for purging this planet of that ectoscum!"

"That is a child."

"It's scum! It just looks like a child, there have been records putting its age at over 2 millennium in Rome where it burned-."

Batman sighs internally before giving a swift jab to one of the scientist's pressure points making him drop like a sack of potatoes. Clark mutters something as he removes the poor boy's body from the vat.

"I don't want to hear it, Kal."

"I didn't say anything, Batman."

"Hn," is all Batman says as he throws the scientist over his shoulder and plugs a USBat into a nearby server and has Oracle let off some of her rage st this organization.

______________________________________________

Flash is staring over batman's shoulder at the body on the gurney, "Is it just me or does he look familiar?"

The boys black and white hair now dry is fluffy over his face, scars litter his form in lightning strike patterns.

Batman gives him a look as he starts scanning the body.

"I mean not like I know the kid, just like I feel like I seen him around somewhere."

"I understand. I also have that feeling but it could simply be the radiation talking."

"Radiation" Flash screams before he zips across the room.

"Low levels, barely over a smoke detector's level."

"You think you're real funny don't you?"

He just raises and eyebrow, "do you have any information on our issue? Have your rogues anything to add?"

"Nah, even the ones from from the future don't know anything. Which is weird if you think about it; how can there be a future if the universe is eating itself?"

"Because time is most likely fluid right now, we're in the middle of the choices that make it set in stone and affect our future."

"Since when do you know about time travel?"

"I have some experience in it, unwanted experience but experience none the less."

"Right... so who is he?"

Batman pulls up a medical record on one of the doctors tablets that soon span into multitudes of windows, "Daniel Fenton. Son of Drs Fenton and Fenton. Saver of the critically endangered purple back gorrilas, Senior at Casper High, suspected meta but proved negative after a lab accident when he was 14. Godson and beneficiary of deceased billionaire Vladimir Masters. Lifetime ban on handling chemistry equipment..."

"Lab accidents? Lifetime ban in chemistry class? Sounds like my kind of kid."

There is a puff of thick sulfury smoke as a british voice speaks out, "Oi Batsy, I heard ya discovered the universe was ending, just came to see if- BLOODY FUCKING HELL. Why is there a dead kid on the table?!"

Batman counts to ten in his head and turns to Constantine, "What have we said about teleporting into the Watchtower?"

"Forget that! What have I said about keeping bloody dead kids out in the open?"

"You haven't."

"I shouldn't have had to, its implied!"

"Hn"

"Wait a second... this kid looks like... no couldn't be. That was ages ago."

"You too" Flash asks him as Constantine ponders on the boys face.

Constantine's face turns sharp, "what do you mean? You think you've met him as well?"

"Yeah but we just can't place it. Who does he look like to you?"

"Reminds me of a protector spirit I made a deal wit a couple decades or so ago. It was tasked to guard a rune for me. Indigenous populace referred to it as the Great One Who Breathes the Cold."

"Oh yeah? A spirit huh," Flash interjects, "What'd he ask for in return, Booberries?"

"An Astrolabe of all things, smartarse."

"He's not a spirit, we can see him so it's not like Boston and he has DNA. We were able to track his medical and public record. I've got what I need, I'm calling a meeting to collaborate ideas on how to fix this."

"Right, Bats, I'll just-"

"Mandatory meeting, Constantine."

"...Right."

__________________________________________

"What about those noxious pits one of your villains constantly uses?"

"We can't use the Lazarus Pits; they don't bring back the dead only the dying."

"Besides," Constantine interrupts, "Body doesn't have an ounce of soul tethered to it."

"What about time travel," Booster asks, "I can just pop back before these MIB wannabes kill the kid. Boom, Problem solved."

"We don't even know what changing that much will do."

"How about a localized time rewind," Raven asks, "If we just rewind him and not everything else."

"Nah, love. Decay field's already in play. The likelihood we rewind him and he doesn't know how to reverse it is to bloody high and we wasted the energy to only fail."

"Lantern, how much time do we have before the wave comes back?"

"The guardian's projected a time frame of two weeks before it returns to the earth."

"Not a lot of time but we've had shorter timeframes to save the universe."

"Hn" Batman turns to the Flash, "If need be we may need you to Flashpoint the event."

ALERT: Intruder in Medbay 1.

ALERT: Intruder in Medbay 1.

"I got it," Flash says before zipping off to the medbay, hoping to graze past the point of the Flashpoint.

"Isn't that the medbay with the body," Wonder Woman asks as Batman gets up to follow after the flash.

"Yes."

Everyone's comms went off with the Flash's voice, "You guys better get down here. I found our intruder but I can't touch him. He's just standing-"

"Flash," Superman puts a finger to his ear. "Flash do you copy?"

__________________________________________________________

Amity Park, IL 4 Years, 4 Months ago

"-Over the body of the kid... Wait where am I?" Flash frantically looking around at what was obviously not medical bay of the Watchtower and instead looks like a back alley of a moderate city frozen in time.

"Amity Park, Wallace," The old man says with a smile in his voice.

"That's not possible. Amity Park was obliterated off the face of the earth."

"Use your process of elimination, Wallace."

Thoughts zip through Wally's head as he comes to the obvious answer, "This is before the city was destroy. Do you know what you're doing?! Time travel causes nothing but problems, after the last flash point I swore I would never do it again!"

"I know more about time travel than you will know in multiple lifetimes. I am known as Clockwork here, I was once the master of time; it was my job to maintain the structure of the timelines even when you 'Flashpointed' a timeline to make sure the right outcome comes to be."

"Then why is the universe ending?!"

"I miscalculated the hatred some of my kind felt towards young Daniel. As such to betray our dimension to those that would sooner purge us. I cannot physically intervene in a past event but you can and for once I give you permission to fix the timeline and save your world. You have two weeks to save Danny Fenton."

"Wait, betrayed? I don't even know how they killed him how do I save him?!"

"You'll figure it out, you always do. By the way you may want to destroy your comm. Time in."

Flash's comm comes to life with his own voice, "I don't know who you think you are-." Flash rips his earpiece faster than could be seen and smashes it into the ground.

"Rightrightright... Right, two weeks to save some kid from bargain bin men in black... How hard can that be?" He spins in place, replacing his costume with his civilian cloths and stepping out of the alley to walk around the city.

___________________________________________________________

Thanks to @phantom-things and @a-lost-time-traveler for the Zalgo text translations. It didn't occur to me that people wouldn't be able to read it even at its lowest setting. I've learned and just parentheses'd the translations. I tried to make the two timeline but I just couldn't get the dead squared idea to flow properly so unfortunately I can only give this one. I'm gonna start working on the part three when I have time tomorrow. sorry if the quality's terrible.

[peaky-shelby]

NEW ROMANTICS X MBAPPÉ [13]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

» chapter 13: back to the start

» Writer's note: this chapter was especially hard to write Because we are so close to the finish line and i don't want to end 😭😭😭 hope you got tissues with you!! See you at the end!

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot  @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113  @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon

@formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries @superswaggycooch @lunasmindinwriting @shadysandwichghoul @contrastedfandom @alexxcorona113 @951am @jinsoulorbitzen12 @books-loverss @l0verl4ne @kypostsblog @bluberrycheezk @hottieluvr @calcaneous @444jodie @dudde-44 @neysgf @wallflowerjournal @p4rkyonce @toclic @kyliannnkkk  @mad-die45 @mentalbaddie @karotland @et-in-arcadia-ego77 @kymb-10

“You and Mason figuring things out again, ha?” he questioned, ones they reached the outdoor venue and hid behind a wall, so no one would see them. Taylor snorted at the comment, she could hear jealousy all over his tone, she could even feel him staring at her. She turned around to face him.

“Back to being an asshole again, ha?”

“You sure he won’t be looking for you right now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked but the question sounded more stupid out loud then it did on her mind. Of course, he was here, he was supposed to be here with the French team. It would be weird if he wasn’t. She looked at his leg “I mean why are you not locked up in a hospital or something with that horrible leg.”

“Same reason you are not locked up in your bedroom after writing that horrible article.”

She laughed, an evil laugh. She bit her tongue annoyed, crossing her arms and looking away because that was a low blow and it seemed like they were back to their old ways. The times when they bit on each other like cats and dogs and scarred one another deep.

“I’m not doing this.” She said and walked past him. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn to him again, pulling her close to him. He had missed her skin, her perfume, her aura. He wished she’d go on calling him a piece of shit if that meant she’d stay for another minute with him and ignore Mason Mount. He moved his hand up her arm, making sure the contact gave away his dirty thoughts. Because he wanted her to know, he still thought about her under him or over him.

She looked at his hand, memories swarming in her mind like flies of all the times he’d done that in Paris. Kylian made a step forward, leaking his lips and looking up and down at her. She looked different. The fire in her eyes was gone, like she had no will to fight him at all.

“How did you do it?” she asked suddenly. His eyes lifted up to hers, he wasn’t sure what she meant. She pulled her arm away, replacing his touch with her own by putting her hand over where his used to be. “I can imagine but I want to know for sure. Why didn’t she release the article about us? It was ready! It would have been front page. The biggest headline. So why, did it never break out?”

“Why does it matter--”

“Because it does!” she snapped. “So, tell me, or this conversation is over.” He hesitated. Hid his hands in his pockets. She examined him, her suspicious getting confirmed while she looked at him. “How much did you give her and what else did you promise her because it couldn’t have been just money!” he didn’t respond. She went closer, slapped his arm “how fucking much, Kylian?” she asked louder, tried to hit him again but he snatched her hands—

“Arrêtés!” he yelled, his eyes staring right in hers and she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer instead, their chest bumping onto each other. She looked at his lips, it was an instinct. She craved him as much as she hated him. He angled himself so he’d have access to her lips if he wanted to, if he needed to. “I told you before you left that I’d stop it and that’s what I did. The how is not important.”

“My savior” she mumbled but there was so much irony in her voice, it made him distance himself, take a good look at her. He narrowed his eyes.

“That’s what you have to say?”

“I have a bomb over my head for the rest of my life, what do you want me to say? I Left because I was ready for it to explode and now, I have to look over my shoulder, listening to all these endless rumors—”

“You left because you wanted to ran away—”

“Yes, and you made sure I have to keep running by ‘protecting’ me—”

“Protecting you?” now he would be the one to get defensive, regretful of thinking even for a moment that he could show his true emotions for his ex coach “Don’t give yourself so much credit, I did it for me, as I do everything, hasn’t that been your complaint ever since you met me?” She didn’t answer. “I mean imagine, talented player, can’t hold himself together around an assistant. Pitiful, I’d say!” Something broke inside of her, something she didn’t know she had. He bit his tongue, tasting the poison before speaking he next words “At the end of the day it’s not my fault if you go on fucking footballers and the story comes back around—”

It was a hard slap. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t expect it or deserved it. When he looked up again, he could see her eyes, swollen, red and tears under them. He had been the cause of that, same way she had been the cause of his aching cheek and it seemed that all the two were capable of was hurting each other, even when they wanted to help.

Trish could hear her ringtone, she knew her phone was somewhere in the bathroom stall, definitely not in her dress pocket anymore. No, that space was filled by Jude’s hands instead while he was leaving his taste on her lips, kissing every corner of her mouth. She was tied on him, pinned against the glass walls that separated the stalls and breathing him in. How did they find themselves in these situations, she didn’t know but she liked it. She opened her eyes to search for the device but a moan left her lips immediately after as she felt Jude sucking on her neck, making her forget what she was looking for in the first place. The phone went silent for a moment, the ringtone echoed again and she tried to untangle herself from the tall beautiful man but he held her tighter, his lips finding hers again.

“let it ring.” He whispered in her mouth.

“You’re being needy.”

“Bite me,” he responded quickly.

Trish laughed “Metaphorically or Literally?”

Jude pulled away only so she could see the sneaky grin on his face “both.”

Trish couldn’t hide her smile as dived in his neck, left bites on his veins. Despite their need to stay locked with each other, the phone didn’t seem like it was going to give up. Trish groaned on his neck and jumped off, she ducked and found the phone under the toilet. As she got up, Jude put his arms around her, to keep her close while she answered the call but she pulled away just seconds later, and turned around to face him, a terrified expression in her eyes.

“Oh my god—” she whispered before hiding her mouth in shock.

“I’m sorry..” it was an honest apology. It came a few minutes later after he had spoken his brutal and offensive words. She had turned her back on him, he was looking at the floor, his hand over his aching cheekbone. She sniffed in her tears, wiping them with the back of her hand. Perhaps this is how it would always be between the two, hurting and healing each other simultaneously. She nodded, knowing that she must have said worst to him at some point, so did she really have any right to be mad at him? Well… even if she did, she had no strength to. His warmth came like a veil around her, as he walked closer and embraced her from behind, his head lost in her hair. He whispered the words that she’d never admit out loud: “Tu m'as manqué.” He kissed her neck, the way he used to in her small apartment, in the city of love, the moments of sin and weakness that they shared. She let him, he kept going, she ached to turn and face him, kiss him, taste him. His fingers crawled slightly under her shirt, the skin to skin contact making both of them dizzy and she was so close to letting go of her defenses, sinking into him, an ocean that if she could breath underwater, she’d stay in forever.

She turned, their lips inches from each other, it’s that moment before jumping in the water, you know it’s gonna be cold and endless, it scares you.

“TAY!”

She moved away, behind her stood a breathless Trish and a worried looking Jude. Something was wrong, she just didn’t know what. Trish hesitated, like the words were stuck on her lips but she couldn’t find the strength to speak them. Taylor noticed the way that Jude had his hand placed on her shoulder. She moved closer to them, losing Kylian’s warmth completely. “What happened?” Trish never said it. Her eyes were loud enough. “Is he ok?”

“In the hospital.” Said Jude.

“Beth tried to call you—” taylor looked in her bag for her phone, she tried to open it but the battery had died, typical.

“Fuck!” She threw her phone back in her bag and walked away, heading to the parking lot for her car. Her heartbeat echoed in her mind. Jude stepped in front of her, his tall figure blocking her view .

“You’re not driving.” He said strictly “I’ll take you and Trish to the hospital.”

Kylian watched the scene unfold, feeling helpless yet again. He followed them to Jude’s car, only stopping when they got in. He stood by the window. “let me know how he is.”

“I will.” She said, part of her wanting him to come with her, to hold her if the worst case scenario were to come true. He gave her hand a light squeeze and he stepped back to let the car leave.

Lily Wilock, was a vibrant girl. She had long black hair, curly, like her mother’s Beth. She didn’t know a lot about the world yet. She hadn’t known any heartache in her life either, but there was something about this night. Everyone had a worried expression, the bright hospital lights were hurting her eyes and she wanted to sleep but even her mother’s hug felt weird like she wasn’t completely with her. She knew her dad, Charlie, was somewhere in one of those white rooms, sleeping because he needed more help than usual and these rooms were more relaxing than usual rooms, or at least that’s what she was told. It was the sound of quick footsteps that had her turning her head as she sat on the black couch in the hall. That’s when she saw her sister, running, Trish was with her, she was always funny. And a man that she had met a couple of times—she liked him because last time she saw him, he ha picked her up on hos shoulders and she felt like she could see the whole world from up there.

“How is he?” Asked Taylor and lily looked up at her, biting her finger while watching at the grown ups. The tall man walked up to her, kneeling in front of her so they were the same height and smiled, waving, taking her attention off the conversation that Taylor was having with her mother.

“Look at you, all grown up. You’re almost taller than me!”

Lily laughed, blushing and hiding her face “Am not!” she said.

“Yes you are look!” he moved his hand between them, making it look like hers was higher than his and the two of them laughed. It was a loud laugh that came out of lily, one that you don’t hear in hospital hallways. Taylor looked at them, remembering that she had to put a mask on for her sister. She went and knelt next to Jude, forcing a smile on her face.

“He says I’m tall!” complained Lily.

“Does he?” asked Taylor, the color of her voice coming out sadder than she meant it to.

“Look how tall you can be—” Jude picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder again and spinning her around. Trish sat next to Taylor, patting her shoulder. And she had to go against every emotion and need in her body, to not start crying because she knew exactly what was going to follow.

Trish and Jude left a few hours later, if she was in her right mind, she would have questioned them leaving together. But she wasn’t. At some point she drifted off to sleep with lily in her arms. Her mind was awake, ready to hear the alarm, but her body had given in and there was something about listening to a little kid breathing in her sleep. She opened her eyes when she felt a slight tickling on her cheek, she thought it’d be Beth and almost jumped of the couch but it was someone else. Dressed in his hoody, black sunglasses to hide his eyes and a mask to cover his features. No one else could recognize him, but she knew his touch all too well.

“Ky?” she whispered.

“hey.”

“You came.”

“You called.”

Taylor smiled, she looked at Lily who had found a hiding place in her arms and at Beth who was sitting in the end of the couch, head laid on her hand. Kylian smiled at Lily. “She’s cuter in person.” Taylor hummed in response, rubbing her eyes. “You wanna go get some coffee?” he asked and she nodded, carefully moving away from lily and getting up, she told Beth she’d be back in just a few minutes with coffee for the both of them.

Taylor was still wearing her mini dress, but Jude had left his jacket for her. Kylian would have offered his hoodie if he wasn’t scared of being recognized. They walked in silence, their fingers almost brushing as they walked. Taylor ordered their coffees but Kylian handed his card to the barista before she had time to pay. The barista took a good look at him but didn’t say anything. The two of them made their way back to where they were before, Kylian took the opportunity and interlocked his hand with hers, making her stop and pulled her in a private corner they could be alone for a minute. He moved his mask down and she took of his sunglasses because she needed to look at them. He leaned his forehead on hers, giving her any energy he had. She held his hand tighter and let her body drop on his chest, he rubbed her back, silence. That’s where the two of them thrived, that’s where they understood each other the most.

“Have you heard anything about Luna?” she asked suddenly.

He held back his smile “she’s thriving.”

“I miss her.” She paused “can you tell your friend to send some pictures?”

He stroked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll tell him.”

“thanks.” She answered and lowered her head. He noticed, sorrow returning.

“He’ll be ok—”

“Don’t say that.” She said quickly.

He hesitated “what do you want me to say?”

So many things, she thought. He brushed her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know.” He moved his hand to her cheek, lifting her head and kissing her temple, then her cheek, then the corner of her lips and she could taste the salt all over her skin.

The two started moving again, Kylian putting on his disguise like before, hiding his face and walking back to Beth but her entire body froze as she made the turn. Beth was up, standing in front of the doctor, head low, her whispers echoing in the empty hallways, lily laying on the couch, cuddled with her knees, still sleeping. Taylor’s knees couldn’t hold her up, her hands couldn’t hold the coffee cups, she dropped them, dropped herself on the floor too. Kylian tried to keep her up, pulling her hand but he didn’t insist. He let her crumble and he had never heard her making these sounds, these broken sounds, a low scream, combined with sobs and mumbling. She held on the fabric of his shirt, making a fist with her hand as she trembled, so fragile, he thought. So fucking fragile.

How do you move on from such a loss? When the hand that has been holding you through everything, turns cold. Only thing she can remember from that night is moving between different embraces, the sound of cries, hers and Beth’s. The doctor’s eyes. No one tells you about that, how the doctor’s eyes get imprinted in your brain, stay in you thought every time you try to think about the one you lost. No one tells you that even when you’re in the funeral, ready to say goodbye you think about them as if they are alive, expecting them to call as soon as the reception is over. You save a seat for them in church because you were used to saving it for them your entire life. And your last conversation remains on repeat in your head, analyzing every last word, lingering on everything they said.

“Why do you stay? You’re not even happy there.” He told her, the night before the party, the night before he left.

“I’m content.” She lied, now she whished she hadn’t. Her father coughed, it was a rough cough, she should have known.

“You’re settling.”

She looked at him, thinking about his face now, she could see all the signs, the circles under his eyes, his torn lips, his weak color. She could have saved him perhaps, if she wasn’t lost in her thoughts. “Maybe I am. But at least I’m home. It’d be the same in Paris.”

“Paris scares you for all it’s possibilities.”

“Paris scares me for all it’s dangers.” She admitted, looking down at the blanket that she had hidden under, pulling one of the loose threads, scratching her nail against it. “Should have let go of football when god told me to.”

“Since when do you believe in God?” he asked, almost laughing. “had to drag you in church when you were a kid, you weren’t a fan of it when you were a teenager either—“

“People change.” She said, but she was smiling because she knew how stupid she must have sounded.

“Yeah they do. When they are looking for an excuse.” She looked up at him, her smile fading away. “you’re forcing yourself out, telling everyone it’s your decision while convincing yourself it’s your only decision.” He always had the most brutal truths under his tongue, she pulled harder on the thread “No one tells you to turn back to PSG, but you could have a career in this and you are not chasing it—” he coughed, his voice getting raspier “I’ll always blame myself for you missing your first chance—”

“Pa—”

“Now it’s your choice.” He moved closer to her, placed his hand on her heart “it could beat forever and it would never be enough unless it’s in the rhythm you want it to. Don’t let it die in silence.”

Silence. There was so much silence as she stared at his coffin, little lily holding her arm and leaning on it, a reminder of what she was left with to protect. He was gone now, and the only thing Lily had left of him was Taylor, that gave her a sense of responsibility. For the afternoon, lily and Beth went to stay with Beth’s mother, she told them that she could pass by there at night but she wanted to home first, change. In reality all she wanted to was to be alone, think about everything and sink in her sorrow, in hopes that she’d find the bottom at some point. She parked the car right outside of her house, paying little attention to her surroundings. She got out, playing with the keys in her hands when she noticed a familiar set of shoes, and she looked up, she held her keys tighter. She was happy to see him.

“Jude gave me your address.” She nodded. “I would have come to the funeral too but I didn’t—” she raised her hand to stop him.

“It’s best that you didn’t. last thing I needed was paparazzi trying to get a picture of you. There were already whispers about Bellingham being there, I can’ imagine what would happen if you showed up.” She said while walking closer to him. She noticed he was holding a paper bag in his hands and his eyes were soft, she tried to remember if she had seen them as soft in the past. She let out a breath, like she had reached sore after a long way out in the water. She let her body fall on his chest as he shielded her with his arms. “my eyes are dry.” She mumbled “didn’t think that was possible.” He rubbed her back and lowered her head to her ear.

“wanna go inside?”

“yeah.” She whispered and the moved away to get to the door. She unlocked it, stepping in the house, expecting to hear her father’s footsteps running down the stairs, lily screaming her name, Beth cooking in the kitchen. It was empty. No sounds, no movements, just ghost. She told Kylian to leave his coat on the hanger behind the door and walked in the kitchen, ignoring the chilling silence in the house.

“Coffee or tea?” she asked, keeping her mind occupied, as she left her bag on the kitchen counter and opened the cupboards. Kylian came in a moment later, examining the art on the walls, the decorations, toys all over the floor, lily’s he imagined. There was so much color, so much coziness that he felt like he was trespassing to a home he was never invited to.

“tea.” He said, still looking around the kitchen. He could almost imagine the whole family in this room, laughing, teasing each other, a little sad that he never got to experience it with them. His thoughts halted when he heard Taylor hissing and cursing, he looked at her. She was holding her thumb rubbing it and he imagined she had burned herself. He moved closer, coming up behind her while she rumbled about how much she hated this kettle and she always told her father he must buy a new one. Her words fell sort as soon as he embraced her, pulling her to his chest to comfort her and he could almost hear the tears coming. She grasped his arm, her nails almost digging on his skin and he lowered his head to her neck, his grip getting tighter as more sobs escaped her mouth. Weak sobs at first that turned to heartbreaking noises, similar to the ones she made at the hospital. She used her other hand to rub her face, turning around and finding solace in his hug. He picked her up slowly, walked with her to the couch.

“The tea” she whispered.

“I’ll get them.” He said as he sat her down on the pillows and used the spare blanket on the edge of the bed to cover her. He went back in the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with the cups and leave them on the coffee table before finding his seat next, she moved a little forward so he’d sit behind her. He threw his arm around her, bringing her closer to him and she got comfortable on his scent, feeling slightly lucky that he happened to be here, that she was able to feel his skin on hers. She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh, sniffing in her sadness. He kissed the top of her head and let her cry, without saying anything. He reached for one of the cups and held it in front of her, helped her take a long sip. He was wondering if she had eaten anything in the last 24 hours, he doubted it. He let the cup back on table and brought her even closer, tucking the blanket so she her body wasn’t exposed to any coldness.

“just when I think I’m out of tears—” she wiped away some with her palm, her voice coming out rough. He drew circles on her arm under the blanket and lowered his head, so he could kiss her ear. “It feels like it’s never going to end.” She said, a sob breaking her sentence, her moved her closer to him.

“It will.” He whispered. “it’ll get better.” She gazed at the wall, her mind felt empty.

“It’s not about me I’m more worried about, you know.” She admitted. She moved a little, only so she’d be able to look at him. “it’s lily.” Kylian didn’t know what to say to that, there were no right words. “I met him, I lived him.” She smiled “he was my everything for a long time, what sucks is that she…” she paused, trying to breathe through the pain “she won’t know him.” More tears came rolling down, she shrugged her shoulders “she won’t know what it’s like to have him screaming your name on the bleachers, when he—” she sniffed “tries to be angry but fails—” she laughed at the memories. He watched her carefully, stroking her hair while she spoke “and you know Beth will do a great job but she should have… she should have gotten the chance to live a life with him the way I did.” He wiped the tears for her this time, she leaned on his touch, hyperventilating. “what if she forgets him?”

“that won’t happen. At the end of the day, she’s got you for the rest of her life to remind her of him. Right?” It was so confusing that he’d ever let this woman as close, it was an unfamiliar feeling that he couldn’t translate. How much he cared about holding her together, how he wanted to cuddle her until the storm passed, there was a warmth on his chest, a realization that was settling right over his heart about how he felt about that woman. “have you eaten anything?” he questioned and she shook her head. He went to get up but she pulled his sweater.

“please.” She mumbled and he stayed where he was, didn’t move at all, if that’s what she needed, that’s what he would give her. She turned her head so her nose would be pressed against his chest. And they stayed like that for a while, tangled with each other. He felt her calming, her breathing stabilizing, she’d hold his fingers, play mindlessly with them. An electricity washed over him when she brought his hand closer to her lips and kissed it, he closed his eyes, blocking out any dirty thoughts because it wasn’t the time. “where’d you get that?” she asked suddenly and he looked at his hand, she was rubbing her thumb over a long scar he had on the back of his hand. Kylian smiled but shook his head.

“Can’t remember.”

“Did you get a cat at campus?” she interrogated her finger now brushing over a scar on his arm, that he had forgotten was there. She tilted her head back, forcing herself to smile at him “or was it a lady?”

Kylian laughed, bending his head on hers “nah haven’t met one with nails as sharp as yours yet.” Taylor snorted, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the closeness. Maybe he could help her forget for one night.

“then it must be a cat.” She hummed “I only know one that hates you as much.” Kylian bit his lip, he didn’t want to tell her, as if he would be admitting to a crime. “you said you gave her away.”

He didn’t respond. He stared at her closed eyes, waiting for her to open them so he could look in her soul. He stroked her chin with his thumb. “I said I’d try.”

She smiled, leaning closer to him, their noses brushing against each other. “Is it that hard to find a cat a home these days?”

He dug his hands under her hair. “had to be sure they deserved her.”

She finally opened her eyes, the two of them looking one another like they were about to kiss for the first time. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I felt like I was stealing her.”

She shook her head, looked down at the threads of his sweatshirt and started playing with one of them “you could never steal anything from me. Seems I keep on giving everything to you.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, so he could lock eyes with her again. She smiled “how is she?”

“I told you, she’s thriving.”

“Buying her the most expensive cat food, are you?”

“Taking her out for walks and all that shit.”

“Do your new girls like her?”

“They never stay around too long for them to find her.”

She scoffed, he noticed the spark in her eyes returning “does she hide under the bed?”

“You remember the high cupboards in the kitchen?”

She hummed

“She stays there all day.”

Taylor placed her hand on his chest “does she sleep here like she used to when you’d come in the apartment?”

He held her hand “some nights.”

“You didn’t have to keep her.”

“elle me fait penser à toi.” [she reminds me of you.] He confessed in a warm breath that hit her face, his gaze remaining focused on her eyes. For all his fear of making eye contact, he didn’t look away even for a second, neither did she. A smile creeped on her face, he wondered if he understood what he said, the familiar heat he used to feel around her returning. Sher leaned in, connecting her lips with his, a sort, emotional kiss, a taste, a slight brush. Then they pulled away, not too much, just enough so he’d look in her eyes.

“Tu m’as manqué aussi” she said in a low tone, balancing her head on his. He couldn’t hide his smile when he heard her speak his language, he wished his could, he wished his hands were tied behind his back as well, so he wouldn’t give in to his thoughts. He didn’t have time to do any of these things because she kissed him again, this time with more force, like she was trying to steal something from him.

“Taylor…” he mumbled in between her lips. She didn’t stop. She climbed on him, getting as close as she could and he had no strength or will to push her away, he wanted this as much as she did. But something in him screamed that it was wrong, that she was too broken and he was taking advantage of it. His hands slid down to her hips, trying to put some force, so she’d stop. She moved back only an inch. He held her face. “you’re too vulnerable”

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into…” He closed his eyes, remembering of all the times they said this to each other. Of all the times they used it as an excuse. “promise” she added, leaving a peck on his lips “I need you ky.”

He leaned in, sucking on her lips, giving her what she asked for. “are you sure?”

She nodded quickly, leaving a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Her fingers crawled under his shirt, making their way round his biceps, remembering his shape, remembering him. He kissed her, the spot right under her chin, remembering the feeling of her skin on his lips and she locked herself on him for a moment before getting off him, slowly, dragging his hand with her, signaling him to get up.

He did. Their fingers interlocking. He pulled them up to his lips, leaving a trail of kisses as she walked with him to the stairs that led to the bedrooms. He followed, silent, calm and intrigued, she could lead him anywhere and he wouldn’t complain. The reached one of the closed doors. She stopped in front of it, turning to him, he trapped her between him and the door, kissing her again, realizing how much he actually missed her. She pushed down the handle of the door, un-trapping herself and stepping backwards at her room. Her space. There was something different about being in her family house, like he had only seen a version of her in the apartment she was renting in Paris, like she had only let him in halfway through until now. She kept walking until she reached her double bed, a curtain hanging from either side. They stood in front of it, as if they had never touched each other again, like it was the first time.

In a way it was. A chance to go back to the start, when their bodies burned under the same sheets. He made a step closer and she reached for his jumper. He stopped her, his hands covering hers. “no rush” he whispered and moved her hands away. He didn’t care about his own satisfaction, even though he knew he’d get it, he wanted to be sure that he’d get her as high as possible, tonight wasn’t for the both of them, it was for her. His fingertips, caressed her cheekbone, her eyes closed, she was enjoying it. He took his time, moving his finger around her face, until he reached her lips, where his thumb dragged her bottom li. It was dry, it was colorless, he wanted to change that. So he kissed her, she tried to fasten it, but he didn’t let her. He searched for the buttons of her black cotton dress, started unbuttoning it from the bottom-up while his lips gave life to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper, forcing the kiss to last longer. She pulled his jumper again, pulling it off him, over his shoulders and exposing his muscular arms. She let the clothing item drop on the floor and stepped on it as she got closer to him, he returned to her neck, his favorite place in her body, pleasing her any way he knew how. “jump” he whispered in her neck as he instantly picked her up on his arms and sat with her on the bed, kissing the exposed skin in between her dress. His lips in between her breast working like a drug in her mind. She’d let herself in his mercy for the night. He took of his shirt, uncovering himself and she got drunk simply by the sight. She leaned on him, clinging onto him while slid the dress off her shoulders and let it fall off. Still taking his time, choosing his kisses carefully, making sure every inch of her body was touched and shivering. He picked her up and maneuvered his body, so she’d be laying down and he’d be on top. He pushed her up on the bed, so her neck would be comfortable on the pillows and toyed with the thread of her bra, debating whether he should take it off yet or not.

He chose not to, instead left kisses all over body, from her collarbone to her breast, to her stomach, he knew the way like the back of his hand, like it was home. He heard her whimpering, eyeing her before continuing his trip by kissing her thighs, both of them. There was something different about the way he was holding her this time around. Like the time apart changed their little dance. And she couldn’t pin point the difference yet but she liked it. He came back up, pulling down his pants with his one hand, she helped.

And they continued touching and kissing, getting to know each other’s bodies again, until the could both feel it was time to get lost in each other. He could feel him in between her thighs, hesitant, looking in her eyes, asking for permission that she gave freely with a nod. He lowered his head to her neck and before entering her he whispered to her ear “Ma petite mort.” And then he slid on her, pushing a moan out of her lips that filled the room, echoed in the walls of her childhood bedroom that has changed over the years to mirror who she was as she’d grow up. It took her a while in the haze for her to translate his words—

“is that what love is to you?”

“I think it’s fair to say it weakens your consciousness. Has you dying and awakening repeatedly.”

“How did you say it?” she bit on her bottom lip.

“la petite mort”

Except he didn’t say La. He said Ma. Such small difference. Such heavy confession.

Her eyes opened as realization hit, while he was still inside her and hidden in her neck and her body felt so light in that moment, so fragile. And she wished she could confess the same to him, find a way to tell him she felt the same way. He lifted his head from her body, looked in her eyes, she pulled his head down so she could kiss him, let him taste the words she couldn’t tell out loud.

Next morning the sun creeped in through the curtains that they had let open during the night. He woke up with her body still laying on his, still asleep and as fragile as he remembered it. He checked the time and knew he had to leave soon, catch the flight back home—odd, if he was meant to go home, why did this feel like home as well? He gazed at her rosy cheekbones, how her face was squeezed on the pillow, her chest going and down as she’d let out a fragile breath, he gazed at her like she was a painting, meant for his eyes only. He kissed her nose and moved away, searching his clothes around the room, he put on his pants and his shirt. Picked up his jumper and left it on the bed for her. He leaned over to her, leaving another kiss on the eyebrow and she moved slightly, awakening from the hypnosis he had put her under.

“I have to go.” She reached for his arm, holding it gently. He kissed her, one last kiss. “we’ll talk.” He spoke in her lips. She nodded and let him distance himself. When opened the bedroom door, she sat up and put on the jumper he had left for her. She wanted to go behind him, tell him a proper goodbye, but she was terrified that if she did, she wouldn’t let him go at all. She slowly walked out of the bedroom, listening to him picking his stuff when suddenly she heard voices—“shit” she mumbled and ran downstairs.

Kylian was standing by the front step, laughing at something, talking to someone. She had to get to next to him to see her little sister talking. “lily, where’s Ma?”

“In the kitchen.” She said with her tiny voice. Kylian looked at taylor, a little embarrassed at the situation. Taylor didn’t really know what to say either. “What’s Mbappe doing here?” she asked. Taylor opened her mouth slightly, searching for the right words.

“I wanted to make sure your sister was ok.” He said quickly, then he kneeled to her height. “I’m a close friend” he explained.

“Lily!” Beth came in the living room, holding glass of orange juice. Taylor looked immediately at her, regretful of the circumstances “Oh—” she mouthed but held herself from saying anything else. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—” while the grown ups were occupied feeling awkward about everything, lily ha gone closer to Kylian, put her hand in his ear and whispered

“can we be friends too?”

Kylian smiled, the awkwardness melting away as he looked to the little girl’s eyes. He nodded “you can come to Paris with your sister one day.”

“I’m not as good in football. Mark talks about you all the time, he even has a notebook with your face on it.”

“Is mark your friend?”

She shook her head, hiding begin the doll she was holding. Taylor stepped closer. “we’ve got a little crush on mark you see.”

“Oh—” he laughed “do we? Well, what can I possibly help with that? You think he’d like it if you have him autograph of mine?”

She nodded, smiling. Taylor went and found a piece of paper quickly and a pen, giving both to Kylian. He signed even wrote a message for mark and gave it to lily. They took a picture together and he excused himself, said he had to go to the airport. Taylor showed him to the door, the two of them standing out of his car.

“Thanks for that.” She smiled.

“Uh don’t think about it. I know what it’s like crushing over a Wilock girl.”

“Technically she is the one crushing over him.” She corrected. Kylian pulled her closer y the long sleeves of his jumper.

“I’ve left a bag for you. In the kitchen. It’s some gifts by the boys.”

“They still think about me?”

“Some more than others.” He smirked.

“Did you tell them about…?”

“No. I thought best to tell them in person and I wasn’t sure if you wanted too either.”

“Thanks. Yeah, you can tell them when you get there. Tell them I’ll be ok.”

“I will, because I know you will.”

She stroked his cheekbone, grinned. “last night was nice.”

“Yeah” he licked his lips and chewed on his bottom one.

She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his cheek “fly safe.”

He kissed her back and got in his car, driving away.

For the rest of the day she had to answer calls and messages, condolences and everything that she had been ignoring. After the 10th call, she felt like she was she was a robot, reciting the same thing over and over again. People she hadn’t spoken to in years were calling, telling her how much they loved her father, some of it felt so fake to her, she wanted to yell at them.

She plummeted herself on one of the chairs in the kitchen table, shutting off her phone and throwing it on the table. “I don’t want to talk to any more of them.”

“Then don’t” said Beth, while she was mixing the soup. Taylor looked at her.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken soup.” She glanced at her “do you mind fixing the table? Dr. Rhodes we should try keeping a routine for Lily’s sake.”

“Yeah…” she nodded and got up. Then she noticed the bag on the middle of the table and sat back down “god I forgot about this.”

“What is it?”

Taylor untangled the bow and opened the bag “Kylian gave it to me, I don’t know.” She put her hand, searching for the random items and took out a dozen pictures. “Bloody hell…” she looked at them, her heart melting at the memories. They were pictures of her and the boys. Pictures of when they won against AL NSSR, or when they had a water fight on campus. She sensed the heat of a tear under her eye. A picture of her and Neymar, looking like dorks. A picture of her in her blue Dior dress, next to Ramos. She let out a laugh. Beth turned to her, letting down spoon she was trying the soup with and went closer.

“Are these from Paris?”

“Yeah.” She said. She looked back in the bag, found a napkin, she picked out and realized—“I’m gonna kill him.” She whimpered, she didn’t mean it of course, all she wanted to do was kiss him. She read the names on the napkin, remembered writing them herself, the first night that she went out with the whole team. The jokes the shared, Neymar being a little too flirty. Kylian staring at her, a gaze that at that point she couldn’t decipher but now she longed for every time she closed her eyes.

“You look happy.” Said Beth, taking her out of her thoughts. She turned her attention to her, confused. Beth dragged back one of the chairs and sat down next to taylor. “Love the dress” she said as she picked out the picture with her and Ramos. Taylor forced a smile and looked back on the bag, there was as shirt in the bottom, she took out, it was with the psg colors, her name on the back, number 16 under it. She was bawling, but these tears tasted differently. “Aw sweetie.” Beth moved her chair closer to taylor and cuddled her like any mother would. She rubbed her head.

“The night before he left, he told me I should go back and I told him I couldn’t because I had him here and I couldn’t leave him—” she could hardly breathe “and now he’s gone and I got you and lily, I can’t leave you either—”

“Hun, listen to me—” Beth pulled away, forcing taylor to look at her, cradling her face “you are not gonna stay here for us.” Even she was crying now “Lily doesn’t need you to stay. She needs you to show her what life can be. She needs to see her older succeed in all the ways that you have. You know how proud I am that she’s got you to look up to?”

“Why do I always have to let go of something in order to get something else? It’s not fair—”

“Oh love…” Beth stroked her hair, her expression filled with compassion and love “unfortunately life is that way sometimes. And possibly this won’t be the last time you’ve got to make a choice like this but as your father would tell you—whatever will be, will be.” Taylor rubbed her nose; she was a mess. “As long as we are terrifying of wanting, that’s when life gets us down. Losing Charlie, it will haunt me forever, but he always cheered for us to get what we wanted, didn’t he? He was such a believer in knowing what you want, with no fear or embarrassment. Always sad that you were so scared of admitting to your own wants.” She smiled, kissing her temple “go to Paris. Be with him, be with the team, whatever you want and that’s when you’ll find balance.”

Taylor nodded and fell in her arms, in the back of her mind, thinking it was her father, that was holding her. She sank in the thought.

When everyone went to bed, she stayed in the living room, she had the lights low, the fireplace open. She was looking at the pictures, her t-shirt laid on the couch, while her computer stayed open on the table, on a booking website for airplane tickets. It was a simple and she’d go back, not necessarily to stay but to get a taste, she if she wanted or even if she could stay. She let down the pictures, leaned forward on the computer and clicked it.

No one said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard.

IM SORRY I PROMISE I NEVER MEANT FOR THIS STORY TO HE SO SAD ITS THE CHARACTERS 😭😭😭😭😭 god this one was a hard to write but i do hope you liked it!!! As Always your comments are welcomed and needed, especially now that we are so close to the end. The plan is for only two more chapters but it all depends to how long ch14 will be. What do you guys think now that it's ending? What has been your favorite moment and what do you think will happen? Will these two finally be happy in the city of stars 👀✨ keep an eye out for all the hints. Ending has already been revealed. Love you all so so much!!!

[penguinbabyblue]

Im going to do a 5 days challenge eating 200 cl to end the year, starting 25 / 12 / 2024

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Starting weight is 51 kg.

[mariacallous]

Nearly one month ago, on July 28, Venezuela’s authoritarian president, Nicolás Maduro, stole an election. After a campaign period in which opposition presidential candidate Edmundo González consistently led polls, authorities quickly announced on election day that Maduro had won the race. They have yet to make official precinct-level results available for audit, as is required by Venezuelan law.

In response, the opposition gathered more than 23,000 vote tally sheets, representing nearly 80 percent of the country, and published the results online. In Venezuela, these tally sheets are normally made available to poll watchers. The opposition mobilized across Venezuela to ensure that they gathered evidence of the results, in some cases standing up to security forces and government supporters to do so.

Its planning paid off. The results gathered at polling locations indicate that González won more than twice as many votes as Maduro, rather than the narrow 51 percent victory that Maduro claimed. Independent exit surveys and media analyses support the opposition’s conclusion, and the evidence is so overwhelming that the United States and at least a dozen U.S. allies have issued statements recognizing González as the winner. On Aug. 22, however, Venezuela’s Supreme Court—stacked with Maduro loyalists—declared him the victor.

Although the election is over and Maduro remains in power, he looks weaker than at any point in recent years. He is leaning heavily on police and security forces to carry out a targeted repression campaign, which so far has resulted in more than 2,400 detentions and 24 deaths, according to Venezuelan human rights group PROVEA. Maduro is also taking his repression to the airwaves, shutting down Venezuelans’ access to X and encrypted messaging site Signal. These do not appear to be the actions of a strongman who feels safe and secure in his position.

The United States now has a crucial opportunity to push for a democratic opening in Venezuela. The Biden administration can do this by identifying key figures inside the government who may support a transition and applying pressure on them, while continuing to seek credible negotiations between figures in Maduro’s coalition and the opposition.

González and fellow opposition leader María Corina Machado appear to be working toward such a strategy. Their goal is to negotiate a peaceful transfer of power in exchange for certain guarantees or a potential amnesty for Maduro and his henchmen. They recognize that this is no easy task: “There are groups who are clearly willing to negotiate and press for that to occur, and others who are not,” Machado told reporters recently.

So far, the White House is keeping its cards close. In response to Venezuela’s stolen election, the administration has focused on carrots rather than sticks. The Wall Street Journal reported that Washington was offering to lift indictments on Maduro and other key ruling party figures if they enter talks to guide a transition. The United States is so far reticent to impose new sanctions on Venezuelan oil.

That may change if Maduro’s repression campaign continues with no sign of a transition. The White House should be taking stock of the available options to effectively press for a transition. Some in Washington are already demanding drastic action: A recently proposed bipartisan resolution co-sponsored by 30 members of the House of Representatives calls on the United States to “employ all available diplomatic and economic means to pressure the Maduro regime.”

The United States has a track record of offering sanctions relief for concessions from Maduro. Last October, the White House temporarily lifted some oil sanctions, and Maduro signed an agreement with the opposition to hold competitive elections. Although the United States partially snapped back these sanctions once it became clear that Machado would not be able to run, that deal ultimately facilitated last month’s election—which clearly demonstrated Venezuelans’ overwhelming rejection of Maduro and desire for change. It also allowed for the release of Venezuelan fugitive Alex Saab from U.S. prison in exchange for the freedom of all wrongfully detained Americans in Venezuela.

The United States continues to hold significant leverage over Venezuela. While it has provided licenses to U.S. and Western oil companies to continue operating in the country, Washington has kept a broader sanctions framework in place that limits the Venezuelan oil sector and its financial connectivity with the global economy. These licenses permit a Western footprint in the country—home to the planet’s largest oil reserves—while reducing the ease with which Maduro can divert oil proceeds through corruption.

For the Biden administration, the challenge will be to strike a balance between targeted and effective pressure on Venezuela’s elites, who back Maduro, while preventing Venezuela’s drift further into Russia and China’s orbit. Some policymakers in Washington worry that a return to the “maximum pressure” sanctions strategy of 2019 would push Maduro closer to U.S. geopolitical rivals that have recognized him as the election winner.

Individual sanctions on military, political, and economic elites may be a more attractive option than broader economic sanctions, but even they have clear limits. Punitive measures on key figures can create a rally-around-the-flag effect that often bolsters a regime’s cohesion. More than 160 individuals in the Maduro government have already been sanctioned by the United States, but many of them have been honored in public ceremonies in Venezuela rather than flipping on Maduro.

Carefully and strategically mapping out pressure points inside the regime may provide an effective path toward facilitating a democratic transition. The United States should identify and engage those most likely to support democratic reform from the inside. This means empowering moderate elements and isolating hard-liners to maximize the odds of successful transition talks.

Identifying these pressure points may be less difficult than it sounds. Although the size of Venezuela’s economy is still a fraction of what it was in the oil bonanza golden years, the opposition-led Venezuelan Finance Observatory suggests that GDP has grown quarterly by an average of 5 percent since early 2022, and other independent analysts report inflation has dropped to its lowest point in over a decade.

This growth has not been felt evenly across the country, but there is a set of economic, political, and military elites that—to put it crudely—has a good thing going and doesn’t want Maduro to derail it. Maduro is desperately working to convince these elites that he can reconnect the country with the global economy, but the fact that his post-election repression has once again put Venezuela on the path to greater isolation does not work in his favor.

Some power brokers in Maduro’s coalition may wonder if this chaos is what they signed up for, which may present the biggest loyalty test that the leader has faced in years. Many elites are weary of the prospect of Maduro assuming another illegitimate term, especially if it means six more years of repression, sanctions, and economic catastrophe. The White House has an opening to liaise with such figures, making sure that ruling party elites and the military understand the potential benefits of a democratic transition. Sanctions on individuals, if they are used, should include prudent communication of the conditions necessary for those penalties to be lifted.

Every action taken by the United States and its allies should be carefully weighed against the possibility that these actions can increase rather than decrease regime cohesion in Caracas. Here, the Biden administration can examine the Trump administration’s approach to Maduro’s regime.

After the push to recognize Juan Guaidó as interim president failed to dislodge Maduro in 2019, U.S. Special Representative for Venezuela Elliott Abrams and envoy Richard Grenell engaged in behind-the-scenes conversations with key power brokers in Maduro’s coalition. The Trump State Department’s 2020 Democratic Transition Framework for Venezuela, which outlined a path for power sharing and democratic coexistence in exchange for gradually lifting sanctions, offers a potential model of how to restore democracy.

If the Biden administration chooses to build on this framework, it will require more complicated negotiations than those that led to the July election. U.S. efforts should align with the priorities of González’s campaign, given his electoral victory. Any such deal must also tackle complex issues such as institutional reforms, transitional justice, the release of political prisoners, and the terms under which both the opposition and ruling party can coexist.

The United States should also continue coordinating its response to Venezuela’s crisis with partners in Latin America, particularly Brazil and Colombia. In recent weeks, these countries have been working behind the scenes to advance an agreement that would clear the way for a democratic outcome in Venezuela. They have floated different proposals, ranging from new elections to some form of power-sharing arrangement. So far, Brazil’s and Colombia’s proposals have been rejected by both the opposition and the government, illustrating the importance of local buy-in.

Although both countries are clear that they will not legitimize Maduro’s power grab, they have given no signs that they will cut diplomatic relations with Venezuela, much less join in an international sanctions campaign. But the fact that two leftist leaders who once expressed support for Maduro’s political mentor Hugo Chávez are united in rejecting his stolen election is a major step forward.

Venezuela’s turmoil has regional implications. Nearly 8 million Venezuelans are displaced, according to the United Nations. The longer the crisis drags on, the more migrants and refugees will flee to other countries, impacting domestic politics. There is no guarantee that regional efforts to encourage a democratic opening in the country will succeed. But the fact that regional leftist leaders are using their channels with Caracas to call for change is an opportunity for all, from the Venezuelan people to the White House.

The coming weeks and months will determine the success or failure of efforts to advance a peaceful and democratic solution in Venezuela. By leveraging their influence to shape incentives among Venezuelan elites, the United States and its allies in South America have an opportunity to support the Venezuelan people in their quest for democracy and stability.

[judgemark45]

USS ATLANTA.

ORIGINAL HISTORIC WARTIME CAPTION.

USS Atlanta (CL 51), quarter view while steaming at 30.43 knots, off Rockland, Maine, November 26, 1941. (National Museum of U.S. Navy)

[storyshark2005]

I think that no one is more interested in the thinly veiled dislike between Jamie Carragher and Kate Abdo than me 😂

Last night on CBS CL today Jamie did this 10 seconds before cut:

(Thank you @elise-51-blog for watching live and tipping me off!)

Jamie’s reacting to this moment earlier in the show, Kate asking Thierry why he would want to go into management when punditry is relatively much easier:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by CBS Sports Golazo (@cbssportsgolazo)

Aaaand my MNF body language analysis:

@heyyjulien and I were talking about this. Jamie’s actually basically made the same comment himself, that management isn’t worth the stress. But I think he took exception to the way Kate said it. And I kind of get the vibes in the show that he and Micah are treated like the children and Kate and Thierry are the more serious personalities. I think it’s a dynamic that is fun and that works (Jamie and Micah have a ton of fun together) but that may be wearing thin on Jamie.

MNF had just won best Sports Programme at the Broadcast Awards, and I think as Jamie is competitive in all things, he wants acknowledgment for his hard work, he want a public image that reflects that, and the silliness of the CBS gang might be working against that image. Gary even joked on a Fan Debate special that Jamie wasn’t present for (due to CBS commitments), that the CBS show wasn’t “proper punditry”, and “a bit jokey”.

The CBS schedule also does sometimes conflict with his commitments to Sky and Gary’s projects at the Overlap, so sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever decide it’s just not worth the extra hassle. Then again, it seems like most audiences love it, including me! And maybe Jamie and Kate are playing up the dislike for the cameras, I could be totally wrong.

Anyway. WE’LL SEE if he sticks with it after his contract is up!

[lavampira]

30 + 51 for spotify wrapped?

ty gigi!!

30. hello bitches - CL

51. work song - hozier

[pathfinderunlocked]

Soulflicker - CR5 Undead

Stay within the candlelight. I'll show you the path...

Artwork is an in-game model from World of Warcraft, copyright Blizzard Entertainment.

A soulflicker is an undead creature that guides other undead. Mindless undead instinctively believe that a soulflicker can lead them from undeath into the afterlife, and if not directed otherwise, they will follow the soulflicker around for as long as it leads them. Intelligent undead do not fall for the ruse, but soulflickers sometimes make deals with intelligent undead, leading them to their desires in exchange for power or protection. The power that soulflickers seek for themselves is often relatively simple - they mainly look for more mindless undead to be their followers. But if they can learn of something more valuable from a creature's corpse, they'll seek it out.

Soulflickers are constantly on the search for new treasures and secrets, either to take for themselves or to trade to other undead, and they have the ability to gather these secrets supernaturally with some of their spells. They often learn and seek out secrets and treasures that their mindless undead followers were searching for in life, or that they knew about.

Obviously, this is a support creature, and shouldn't be fought alone.

Soulflicker - CR 5

Visibly pale and waxy skin covers the shriveled arms that reach out from under this creature's robe. It's hunched over, and lit candles adorn the top of its backpack, melted into the fabric.

XP 1,600 NE Medium undead Init +4 Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +12

DEFENSE

AC 16, touch 10, flat-footed 16 (+4 mage armor, +2 natural) hp 51 (6d8+24) Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +9 Defensive Abilities channel resistance +2 Immune undead traits

OFFENSE

Speed 25 ft. Melee slam +3 (1d6) Special Attacks warding candles

Spell-like Abilities (CL 6th; concentration +9)     Constant—detect undead, mage armor, resistance     At will—blood biography (DC 16), corpse lanterns, grave words, sentry skull     1/day—carrion compass (DC 15), create treasure map

Spells Known (CL 5th; concentration +8)     2nd (2/day)—glitterdust (DC 15)     1st (3/day)—grasping corpse (CMB +8), touch of blindness (touch +3, DC 14)     0th (at will)—detect magic, ghost sound, spark

STATISTICS

Str 11, Dex 10, Con —, Int 14, Wis 17, Cha 17 Base Atk +3; CMB +3; CMD +13 Feats Combat Casting, Improved Initiative, Toughness Skills Knowledge (arcana, religion) +8, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +5, Perception +12, Survival +9, Spellcraft +7, Use Magic Device +9 Languages Common, Necril Gear backpack, spell component pouch, 160 candles

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Spellcasting A soulflicker casts arcane spells drawn from the sorcerer/wizard spell list. It is a spontaneous caster, and gains half as many spells known and spells per day as a 5th-level sorcerer. It uses Wisdom, not Charisma, as its spellcasting ability score. It does not gain a bloodline or any other sorcerer class features.

Warding Candles (Su) As a standard action, once per hour, a soulflicker can place down and light three warding candles in three different spaces it can reach. Each candle sheds light as a normal candle (increasing the light level in a 5-foot radius by one step, to a maximum of normal light) and emanates a 5-ft. radius aura that protects the soulflicker's allies within the aura. Allies protected in this way gain channel resistance +2 and take half damage from corporeal attacks. This protection does not stack with the reduced damage from actually being incorporeal, and is overcome by any effect that would allow attackers to deal full damage to an incorporeal target, such as a ghost touch weapon or being incorporeal themselves.

Each candle has 1 hit point and an AC of 13 (as a Fine-sized object). Anything that snuffs the candle out, such as even a small amount of water or wind, ends the protection from that candle.

[fiberworksoficial]

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Capacitación de personal de planta interna, externa y última milla (cliente final).

Y mucho más…

[thecreaturecodex]

Saltor

Image by Thomas M Baxa, © TSR, Inc.

[The last of the illithdae from Dragon 150, and the one that I think was best served by Lords of Madness. D&D 3.5 gave it its own unique ability, a sonic scream that acts as a lo-fi version of an illithid's mind blast. The Dragon Magazine version comes in multiple HD forms, but I took the Lords of Madness approach, and just used the highest HD version.]

Saltor CR 5 LE Aberration This creature resembles a hairless monkey the size of a goat, with a long canine muzzle surrounded by thin, flexible tentacles. It carries a spear in its hands, tipped with a stone point.

Saltors are illithidae that are fairly close relatives to mind flayers themselves, being the equivalent to an illithid as a monkey is to a human. Unlike true mind flayers, saltors do not have extreme sexual dimorphism—males and females look functionally identical to each other. They do undergo a form of ceremorphosis, however, raising tadpoles in pools and placing them in the partially emptied skulls of humanoids. Saltors use small humanoids as their hosts and do not compete with illithids for corpses.

Saltors typically live and travel in groups. A troop will have a central hub containing its breeding pool, and then bands will split off in order to forage. They are omnivorous with a taste for fungi and meat, and especially prey on small humanoids such as derro or svirfneblin in order to use their corpses to reproduce as well. Saltors prefer to attack from ambush and keep at range, hurling magic missiles and javelins to weaken prey before closing to melee. Their terrible scream acts as both weapon and alarm call, and a lone saltor that screams will likely have a half dozen of its fellows close behind to back it up.

Of the various kinds of illithidae, saltors are among the most likely to be found in a mind flayer colony. Mind flayers see them as just the right combination of useful and disposable, and saltors for their part view illithids as something like demigods. In addition to acting as foot soldiers and laborers, saltors may be found serving mind flayers as experimental subjects, sacrificial victims or emergency rations, all of which the saltors accept as their rightful place.  

A saltor stands about three feet tall. Their own technology is at a Stone Age level, and they covet metal weapons and tools. Saltors advance by class level, and often take levels in barbarian or psychic.

Saltor    CR 5 XP 1,600 LE Small aberration Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +10 Defense AC 17, touch 16, flat-footed 12 (+1 size, +4 Dex, +1 dodge, +1 natural) hp 51 (6d8+24) Fort +6, Ref +6, Will +6 Resist sonic 10; SR 16 Weakness light blindness, sunlight sickness Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 30 ft. Melee 2 slams +7 (1d4+2 plus grab), bite +7 (1d6+2) or masterwork spear +8 (1d6+3/x3), bite +5 (1d6+1) Ranged javelin +9 (1d4+2) Special Attacks pith (bite), screech Spell-like Abilities CL 5th, concentration +7 3/day—blur, magic missile 1/day—haste (self only) Statistics Str 14, Dex 18, Con 19, Int 11, Wis 12, Cha 14 Base Atk +4; CMB +5; CMD 21 Feats Deadly Aim,Dodge, Multiattack Skills Acrobatics +17, Climb +19, Perception +10, Stealth +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Acrobatics, +4 Perception Languages Undercommon Ecology Environment underground Organization solitary, pair, band (3-10) or troop (10-40) Treasure standard (Small masterwork spear, 5 Small masterwork javelins, other treasure) Special Abilities Pith (Ex)A saltor can make a coup de grace attempt with its bite attack as a full round action without provoking attacks of opportunity against a helpless or pinned opponent. This coup de grace does not function against creatures that have no head or no brain, and creatures with multiple heads are not killed if they fail the save (although that head is no longer functional). Screech (Su) Once per day as a standard action, a saltor can give a terrible screech. All creatures in a 30 foot cone take 3d6 points of sonic damage and are stunned for 1 round. A successful DC 15 Fortitude save negates the stunning effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Sunlight Sickness (Ex) In an area of natural sunlight, a saltor is sickened.

[justicegundam82]

3.5 to PF1e Conversion: Beholderkin, Spectator

Here I am with a new conversion... and this time, I'm about to tackle the Beholderkin from the 3.5 book Lords Of Madness. Of course, I'm going to take some liberties and try to put my own spin on them, but overall, I'll try to keep these conversions as campaign-neutral as possible. Clearly, you guys are free to adapt the lore to your own game world.

The Creature Codex and the Creature Chronicle have already written up two great PF1e conversions of the Beholder here and here. I'd really reccomend you check them out!

With that out of the way, here I give you the first of my Beholderkin conversions - the Spectator.

BEHOLDERKIN, SPECTATOR

Image (c) Wizards Of The Coast, from Lords of Madness, author J. Nelson

This spherical creature’s leathery body is crowned with four slender eyestalks, each terminating in a small lidless eye. A fifth eye, much larger than these, is located on the front of the sphere, above a toothy maw.

SPECTATOR               CR 5

XP 1’600

LN Medium Aberration (beholderkin, extraplanar) 

Init +8; Senses all-around vision, darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +18

DEFENSE

AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 13 (+4 Dex, +1 dodge, +3 natural)

hp 51 (6d8+24), planar fast healing 2

Fort +6, Ref +6, Will +6

OFFENSE

Speed 5 ft., fly 30 ft. (good)

Melee bite +9 (1d8+1)

Ranged eye ray +9 touch (see below)

Special Attacks eye rays, spell turning

Spell-like Abilities (CL 7th, concentration +9)

     3/day - create food and water

     1/day - plane shift (self only)

STATISTICS

Str 13, Dex 18, Con 18, Int 15, Wis 12, Cha 15

Base Atk +5; CMB +6; CMD 20

Feats Alertness (B), Dodge, Flyby Attack, Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse

Skills Diplomacy +8, Fly +14, Intimidate +12, Knowledge (planes) +12, Perception +18, Sense Motive +14, Stealth +10, Survival +10; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception

Languages Common, Beholder; telepathy (see below).

Special Qualities beholderkin traits, guardian creature, naturally buoyant

ECOLOGY

Environment any (Axis)

Organization solitary, pair or cluster (3-6)

Treasure standard

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Beholderkin Traits (Ex/Su) Spectators are beholderkin, creatures that are distantly related to true beholders. Beholderkin have a very wide range of appearances and abilities. Not all share the xenophobia of true beholders, though most are still evil and cruel in nature.

Creatures of the beholderkin subtype share the following traits:

All-around Vision (Ex): A beholderkin sees in all directions at once and cannot be flanked.

Eye Rays (Su): All beholderkin can manifest dangerous magical effects by firing a beam from its smaller eyes. See individual beholderkin’s description for details.

Eye Rays (Su) A spectator can fire one eye ray as a standard action each round. Treat these as ranged touch attacks with a range of 60 feet and no range increment. A spectator cannot choose to use the same eye ray two rounds in a row. A creature struck must make a saving throw (DC 15) or be affected as by a spell at CL 7th, except that it only effects the target struck. The save DC is Charisma based.

- Fatigue: The target must make a Fortitude save or become fatigued. A fatigued creature that fails to save against this effect becomes exhausted.

- Inflict Moderate Wounds: This ray works like the spell, causing 2d8+7 points of damage (Will half).

- Hold Monster: The target must succeed on a Will save or be affected as though by the spell.

- Telepathy: A spectator can communicate telepathically with its target for the round. As a free action, a spectator can make a suggestion (as the spell; Will negates) to the creature it is currently telepathically speaking to.

Guardian Creature (Ex) A spectator beholderkin counts as an outsider for the purposes of summoning spells such as planar ally or planar binding.

Naturally Buoyant (Ex) A spectator's body is naturally buoyant. This buoyancy allows it to fly at a speed of 30 ft. with good maneuvrability and grants it a permanent feather fall effect (as the spell) with personal range.

Planar Fast Healing (Ex) A spectator beholderkin's fast healing only functions when the creature is on its native plane of Axis.

Spell Turning (Su) A spectator's central eye produces a 90-foot cone. Once per round, the spectator can attempt to turn back upon the caster a single spell or spell-like ability targeting it. In order to turn back a spell, the spectator must succeed at a concentration check with a DC equal to 15 + the caster level of the original caster. If this check is successful, the original caster suffers the effects of the spell as if it had been casted by the spectator itself. Only single-target spells that explicity target the spectator may be reflected this way, and only one each round. Area effect spells may not be reflected.

Spectators are extraplanar beholderkin native to the plane of Axis, and are known to be among the most reasonable and moderate of the beholderkin. They are often summoned to the Material Plane by arcanists who need a reliable guardian that does not require a great deal of resources to protect a valuable object or place, though they are not enthusiastic of working for humanoids or other creatures of the Material Plane. However, they possess a sense of duty and a loyalty to their summoner that is unusual amongst beholderkin, and they pride themselves on their guardianship abilities.

A spectator's bizzarre behavior manifests in two different personalities that share the same consciousness. Under normal circumstances, a spectator tends to be open, if cautious, and willing to chat with those it comes across. However, they can slip into a more introverted state of mind, where they spend a long time, possibly even decades, pondering philosophical questions and contemplating mysteries. A spectator that is left in isolation for a long time guarding a charge may develop some unexpected quirk - such as talking about itself in third person, or change their voice to resemble that of its summoner.

Unusually pacifistic for beholderkin standards, spectators only fight to protect their charges or their own lives. Unless guarding something, they tend to avoid combat by flying away or using plane shift to return to Axis. If protecting an item, or if fighting becomes necessary, a spectator will typically start by using its fatigue and telepathy eye rays to incapacitate its opponents, usually throwing in a suggestion in order to convince the opponent to leave it alone. Only in the face of stubborn intruders will the spectator resort to lethal force, paralyzing its enemies and blasting them with negative energy. They will try to keep obvious spellcasters within the reflective cone from their central eye.

A spectator is about 3 feet wide and weighs about 250 pounds.

[claudiosuenaga]

Problemas na Distopia & Teorias da Coincidência

Assuntos tratados nesta live:

Incêndios florestais 0:00:39

Voepass 0:03:09 e 0:16:57

O acaso como explicação de tudo 0:04:57

O fanatismo religioso dos céticos e neocientificistas 0:05:54, 0:23:33 e 0:41:20

Teóricos da coincidência 0:17:25

Morte de Izquierdo 0:17:36

Luciferianismo nas Olimpíadas de Paris 0:18:50

Realidade cada vez mais distópica 0:20:28

Film noir e suas metáforas 0:25:49

O ataque global contra a mídia alternativa 0:35:36

Táticas para combater a elite oculta 0:42:51

O controle da informação para o controle da percepção 0:45:00

Como sobreviver na Grande Tribulação 0:54:33

Torne-se o meu patrono no Patreon e tenha acesso a centenas de conteúdos exclusivos, ou inscreva-se gratuitamente e tenha acesso a todos os meus posts públicos: https://www.patreon.com/suenaga

➡️ Toda a minha rede aqui: https://linktr.ee/suenaga

➡️ E-mail: claudiosuenaga@mail.com

Livros que o Deep State não quer que você leia:

✅ "Encuentros cercanos de todo tipo. El caso Villas Boas y otras abducciones íntimas": Amazon.com (envios a todo o mundo desde os EUA): https://amzn.to/3Lh93Lb Amazon.es (envios a todo o mundo desde a Espanha): https://amzn.to/3LlMtBn Amazon.co.uk (envios dentro do Reino Unido): https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/es/Cl%C3%A1udio-Tsuyoshi-Suenaga/dp/B0BW344XF1/ Amazon.de (envios dentro da Alemanha): https://www.amazon.de/-/es/Cl%C3%A1udio-Tsuyoshi-Suenaga/dp/B0BW344XF1/ Amazon.fr (envios dentro da França): https://www.amazon.fr/-/es/Cl%C3%A1udio-Tsuyoshi-Suenaga/dp/B0BW344XF1/ Amazon.it (envios dentro da Itália): https://www.amazon.it/-/es/Cl%C3%A1udio-Tsuyoshi-Suenaga/dp/B0BW344XF1/ Amazon.co.jp (envios dentro do Japão): https://www.amazon.co.jp/-/es/Cl%C3%A1udio-Tsuyoshi-Suenaga/dp/B0BW344XF1/

✅ "As Raízes Hebraicas da Terra do Sol Nascente: O Povo Japonês Seria uma das Dez Tribos Perdidas de Israel?" https://www.lojaenigmas.com.br/pre-venda-as-raizes-hebraicas-da-terra-do-sol-nascente-o-povo-japones-seria-uma-das-dez-tribos-perdidas-de-israel

✅ “Illuminati: A Genealogia do Mal"; "Contatados: Emissários das Estrelas, Arautos de uma Nova Era ou a Quinta Coluna da Invasão Extraterrestre?"; "50 Tons de Greys: Casos de Abduções Alienígenas com Relações Sexuais - Experiências Genéticas, Rituais de Fertilidade ou Cultos Satânicos?"; e "Lua de Pedreiro: A Apoteose do Impossível - As fraudes da Missão Apollo e o lado oculto da NASA", em formato e-book em minha loja no Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/suenaga/shop

[iheartferretzzz]

7/20 Log:

Breakfast: A glass of green tea, with lemon juice CL: 0

Lunch: 3 sips of my protein shake and a bowl of homemade low cal ice cream CL: 51

Snack: ¼ of a mango venom energy drink and some bell pepper slices with low cal cheesy dill pickle dip CL: 62.5

Dinner: homemade low cal ice cream+fiber and a bit more banana CL: 81

Total CL: 194.5

CW: 217lbs

[ginnyrules27]

Hey Ginny, any snippets for ToF, StoF and HaH?

And I know that you posted CL probably three or four days ago but do you have any snippets for CL?

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it though,” Hades muttered as Malinda and Benji went into another room. The door glowed once more and once the glow faded, the Beast insignia was present though, there was one added feature. 

-Truth or Fiction (chapter 106, currently 2205 words)

“Shh, shh,” Hades said gently as he comforted her, trying to ignore how his heart broke at seeing her pleading eyes. “A bottle’ll be coming soon Mali. Just another minute.” 

-Small Twists of Fate (chapter 36, currently 2515 words)

Beast bent down and picked Ben up, holding him in his arms. “I’m glad you called me but maybe next time, you could say it’s not you in need of attention first when you do?” He muttered to Ben. 

-Half and Half (chapter 35, currently 2203 words)

Mal couldn’t help but smile at that. She had been tempted to ask Bobby and Roland how they were holding up with their new additions to their families but felt it would almost be cruel to Ginny if she asked that in front of her. 

-Choosing Life (chapter 51, currently 1355 words)

[mariacallous]

I don't agree with all of the points or comments here, but I do think there's some interesting stuff to think about

Editor's note: In 2024, just as in 2016 and 2020, Trump won big among working-class white evangelicals but lost majorities of blue-collar blacks, Latinos, and non-evangelical whites. A less than 1% shift in the “blue wall” states would have tipped the Electoral College to Harris, and a less than 1% shift nationally would have given her the popular vote as well. Looking ahead to 2026 and 2028, Democrats remain well-positioned to advance pro-worker/pro-family policies, appeal to diverse working-class constituencies, and win elections at all levels of government.  

The dominant post-election 2024 narrative is that Donald Trump’s victory over Kamala Harris was delivered largely by a multiracial working-class coalition. Backed by certain numbers, this narrative has many Democrats quaking in their 2026 campaign boots. For example, the exit polls show that working-class voters, defined as voters without a college degree, split 56% for Trump to 42% for Harris. The same polls tell us that white working-class voters favored Trump over Harris by 66% to 32%, and that Trump won a larger share of working-class Black and Latino voters than he did in 2020. 

All true, but let’s put those numbers into historical context and then, starting with the white working class, dig into what the exit poll data reveal when you run cross-tabulations by education and sex.1

As I have documented elsewhere, after winning a 56% white working-class majority in 1984 with Ronald Reagan, the GOP lost the majority in the 1990s, then got back to even with George W. Bush in 2000 (50%) and again in 2004 (51%). Mitt Romney won 56% of the white working-class vote in 2012, followed by Trump with 62% in 2016, 59% in 2020, and 66% in 2024. That two-thirds share is impressive, but many other Republican candidates have done as well or better electorally with the white working class. 

For example, in 2022, working-class whites broke 66% for Republican congressional candidates—the same percentage of those voters that Trump won in 2024. And several Republican governors who were not aligned with Trump won more than two-thirds of white working-class votes. For example, in 2022, Florida’s Ron DeSantis, who would go on to challenge Trump for the GOP presidential nomination before becoming his staunch ally, won 70% of the white working-class vote; and Ohio’s Mike DeWine, who received a congratulatory call from President Joe Biden the morning after his reelection win, received 72% of it.

How they voted

The white working-class electorate consists of two distinct voting blocs: white evangelicals without college degrees and all other whites without college degrees. The latter bloc, which encompasses working-class white catholics and other non-evangelical whites without college degrees, is slightly larger than the former bloc.

As I have documented elsewhere, in 2016 and 2020, Trump won a majority of white evangelical working-class voters, but he lost a majority of white non-evangelical working-class voters. He lost them again in 2024.

Take a look at Tables 1 and 2. In 2024, Trump won 86% of white evangelical working-class voters, up from 84% in 2020, and increased his spread with those voters by 5 points (from plus-68 points versus Biden to plus 73-points versus Harris). But he still lost white non-evangelical working-class voters to Harris, 52% to 45%, even as he reduced his losing margin with this bloc by 8 points (from 15 points behind Biden to 7 points behind Harris).

Among white non-evangelical working-class women, Trump did worse in 2024 than he did in 2020, dropping from 40% to 38% of their vote and widening the spread against him by 3 points. 

Now, take a look at Table 3 below. In 2024, Trump lost Black working-class voters by 72 points, 13% to 85% for Harris. That was slightly better than the 77-point spread (11% to 88%) he suffered against Biden in 2020. He won 22% of Black working-class males, up from the 17% he won against Biden. Meanwhile, Black working-class women gave Harris the same 91% of their vote that they gave Biden, and they reduced their Trump vote from 9% in 2020 to 7% in 2024.

But if Democrats are determined to fret and sweat about where they stand with working-class voters, the exit poll data would justify them worrying—not about some pro-Trump or pro-GOP multiracial working-class coalition, but about Latino voters.

Take a look at Table 4 below. Although Trump lost working-class Latinos to Harris by 51% to 47%, that was 31 points fewer than he lost them to Biden in 2020. He won Latino working-class men 55% to 43%, almost exactly the same split in his favor that he had among non-evangelical white working-class males (52% to 44%). And while he again lost working-class Latino women, he lost them by 24 points fewer than he did against Biden in 2020.

Among Latinos, the only subgroup that did not bolt from the Democratic fold was college-educated Latino women, who favored Harris 63% to 33%, a 30-point margin identical to the one they gave Biden in 2020.

But Trump’s victory in 2024, his more than 76 million votes and his swing-states sweep, is owed the most to white evangelicals. White evangelicals voted for Trump more than four to one, constituting more than a third of his 49.9% share of the popular vote. As Table 1 indicates, Trump was a landslide winner among working-class white evangelicals, but his single biggest gain in 2024 over 2020 was among white evangelical women with college degrees. 

Having suffered a double-digit drop in college-educated white evangelical women’s vote between 2016 and 2020, in 2024 he turned a 6-point spread in Trump’s favor against Biden (53% to 47%) into a 50-point spread in his favor against Harris (74% to 24%).

So, in the 2024 election, a majority of white evangelicals without college degrees once again favored Trump, but majorities of blue-collar Black, Latino, and non-evangelical whites did not. 

But why? And why did Trump do better than ever with college-educated white evangelical women? What was behind the Grand Canyon-sized gender gap in voting? More generally, how much can who voted for president and who didn’t, or who voted how for president, or both, be explained by, say, “culture” or “religion” or “ideology,” whether in conjunction with or separate and apart from each other and other variables? 

Pro-worker/pro-family Democrats

At this stage—in fact, at any stage—it’s really hard to say. As one of the pioneering scholars of American national election studies, Donald E. Stokes, and I explained three decades ago in our analysis of the 1992 presidential election results, in deciding on which candidate or party to support, most voters consult their own ideas, ideals, and interests, and then take into account both where they think the respective contenders stand on specific issues (abortion, immigration, transgender rights, etc.) and how they perceive each contender’s possession of traits that are almost universally considered to be laudable (“intelligent,” “trustworthy,” “care about people like me”) or loathsome (“incompetent,” “corrupt,” “callous”). 

Still, I believe that there are at least three things one can credibly say about the 2024 presidential election results at this stage. First, as we have already established, contrary to so much of the commentary, Trump won a vast majority of white evangelical voters without college degrees, but Harris won majorities among blue-collar Blacks, Latinos, and non-evangelical whites; second, Harris did better with the electorate as a whole than has hitherto generally been acknowledged; and, third, it would seem that, other things equal, Democrats who emphasize pro-worker/pro-family policies and messages do better with voters than otherwise comparable Democrats who don’t.

Despite being the first Black woman to run for president as the nominee of a major party; despite running in place of a highly unpopular first-term sitting president whose record she could neither easily run on nor run from; and despite running what many observers judged to be a tactically mistake-ridden campaign yoked to easy-to-attack anti-majority opinion positions on hot-button issues such as transgender women being allowed to compete on women’s teams in sports; Harris won more than 74.3 million votes, constituting 48.3% of the national popular vote to Trump’s 49.9%; and lost Pennsylvania by 1.7%, Wisconsin by 0.8%, and Michigan by 1.4%. 

So, a less than 0.8% shift her way in the national popular vote would have tied Trump’s tally, and a less than 1% shift her way in the three “blue wall” states would have added 44 electoral votes to the 226 she received and made Harris the next president. 

In addition to winning working-class majorities among non-evangelical whites, Blacks, and Latinos, Harris beat Trump among union workers 57% to 41%. As I have explained elsewhere, most Americans now see the decline in private-sector unionization (from about a third of all workers in the mid-20th century to 17% in the mid-1980s to just 6% now) as bad for America; 70% of working-class Americans approve of unions; and an estimated 60 million nonunionized workers would like to have the opportunity to join a union. 

Indeed, Americans now trust organized labor more than large technology companies and big business. Moreover, growing evidence suggests that increasing the availability of union-quality jobs—meaning presumptively secure jobs with decent wages, working conditions, health insurance, and retirement benefits—would increase birth rates and foster stable family formation.

So, as close as Harris came to winning, might she have done even better had she picked Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, a popular (60% plus approval rating), pro-worker/pro-family, center-left Democrat, as her running mate? There are many reasons to think so. For one, Shapiro-allied Democrats retained control of Pennsylvania’s State House, including wins by pro-worker/pro-family, center-left candidates in counties that Trump carried.

Harris herself might have donned that pro-worker/pro-family mantle, as she was vice president in an administration that protected the U.S. steel and shipbuilding industries by tripling tariffs on Chinese imports; banned non-compete clauses that stop workers from taking a job in their same line of work if they quit; expanded eligibility for overtime pay; and pressured pension funds to invest in firms that have fair labor practices and divest from ones that treat workers poorly. 

Harris’ running mate, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, though hapless as a national campaigner, championed pro-worker/pro-family laws. One such law provided workers partial pay for up to 12 weeks a year to care for a newborn baby, nurse a sick relative, or recover from a serious injury or medical malady. Another eliminated hyper-productivity requirements that certain companies inflict on warehouse workers and drivers. 

As the saying goes, the plural of anecdote is not data; but I have, in effect, 67 years’ worth of “time series data” on blue-collar voters in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware. These states are home to my predominantly working-class family members and lifelong friends, including baby boomers who became “Reagan Democrats” or changed their registration to Republican. They affectionately (for the most part) code me, “the professor,” as a “liberal,” though I consider myself to be a center-left/center-right (depending on the issue) pro-life/pro-poor Democrat in the tradition of the late, great Keystone State Governor Bob Casey. 

Most of them voted for Barack Obama in 2008, Mitt Romney in 2012, and Trump in 2016. They split between Biden and Trump in 2020, but went uniformly (save one), if in many cases reluctantly, for Trump in 2024. My informal “focus group” polling suggests that Harris could have won at least a quarter of them had she spotlighted pro-worker/pro-family policies.

As the journalist Batya Ungar-Sargon has rightly noted, working-class voters hold nuanced views on most issues. For example, most working-class people would not consider getting an abortion but strongly oppose banning abortion; most don’t want to expand the welfare state but do want government-guaranteed health insurance; most favor secure borders but oppose immigration bans; and so on. And, as economist Les Leopold has argued, the median working-class voter remains ideologically center-right. Still, over the last decade, working-class views have trended to the left on many social and cultural issues, including abortion, LGBTQ rights, and taxation. 

Democrats are well-used to losing white evangelical voters but are new to losing Latino voters. It’s not clear what, if anything, Democrats could do to court white evangelical voters. Ever more of the party’s faithful profess no religious faith, are affiliated with no religion, and identify as strictly secular. But Democrats can begin to build a bridge back to the Latino voters who they lost in 2024 by promoting expressly pro-worker/pro-family candidates and policies like those favored by organizations such as the Pennsylvania Latino Convention, Esperanza, and most of the more than one million Latinos who live, work, and vote in Pennsylvania.

If confirmed, Trump’s nominee for Labor Secretary, Lori Chavez-DeRemer, a Republican House member from Oregon, would be the most pro-union Republican to hold that position since John T. Dunlop held it under President Gerald Ford. Last July, Chavez-DeRemer, a Latina, co-sponsored a bill that called for the biggest expansion in workers’ rights since the New Deal.

Over the next two to four years, whatever else they do, will Democrats double-down on pro-worker/pro-family policies, and will Republicans launch new pro-worker/pro-family policies of their own? 

Let’s all hope so, because if the two parties compete for Latinos and other voters that way, then all Americans, most especially all working-class Americans, will stand to benefit lots.