#I hATE WARMTH O HAYE WARMTH I HATE WARMTH

[cringelordofchaos]

sweaters are so cute but they're too warm T-T

[ageofevermore]

Who We Are Chapter 10 - Iliad and Odyssey

summery: a hundred years ago earth was destroyed by nuclear warfare. those who could escape did, and those who couldn’t we’re thought to have been burned with the rest of earth. those who escaped primfaya traveled to space, living to tell stories of what earth once was to generations that hoped to see it’s beauty one day. nearly three generations later it’s time. oxygen is running low and life support can’t be fixed. a hundred teenagers are sent to the ground, but is it every really that simple?

Pairings: Olivia Kane x Bellamy Blake

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: hallucinations, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of guns and gun violence, bellivia fluff ! 

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                                                     When Olivia finally managed to pull herself up off the floor, her mind was immediately brought to Bellamy Blake and the fate of his situation. Her mind was working fast to compensate for a reasoning beside what had just occurred, yet the only somewhat bearable explanation Olivia could fathom was that the beans she'd eaten were mutilated with hallucinogenic properties. Earth skills had been very vague when addressing which foods were edible on earth, and Olivia was beginning to despise that irony.

Grabbing the bag of necessities from the floor, Olivia darted up the stairs with itching desperation to confirm that Bellamy was both alive and alright. The very opposite of Micheal Hayes. Olivia's body was visibly trembling as she exited the military base, shoulders barely stable enough to support the lightweight duffle bag of med-kits and blankets. Selfishly, Olivia had already shoved aside three of the softest for her, Octavia and Raven.

Olivia didn't call out for Bellamy in fear of alerting hostile grounders of her presence, so instead she crept through the trees and bushes with hesitation clear across her features. Olivia analyzed hundreds of possibilities within her mind, however she hadn't expected to see Bellamy laid out across a tree, beaten and bloodied with a lifeless body only a few inches from his feet. His chest heaved up and down heavily, his horror etched visibly across his pale complexion.

"Bellamy!" Olivia gasped in pure panic, her feet moving despite the desperate ache to curl up in a ball and just collapse. The world had been against her for so long, she figured it was her time to surrender. Her day had been filled with nothing but soft spoken confrontational battles, and her injures had just been pronounced terminal. "Are you alright, Bell?"

Bellamy broke down into a quiet sob of bleeding pain. The sharp intakes of breath he begged for broke Olivia's heart in two. His pain was so great and yet he put up a facade that could fool them all. She thought she knew Bellamy Blake, and yet she was so wrong. Olivia understood his motives, she could see his perspective, but she knew nothing of the tragedies that made him who he is.

"My mother," Bellamy began with aching breaths that all too closely resembled sobs, "if she knew what I've done, who I am — she raised me to be better, to be good, and all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster." Bellamy's voice trembled as he tried to remain somewhat intact before the completely shattered girl.

Olivia's breath pickup as her mind was brought back to the nightmare she'd been forced to relive just moments ago. Her own actions; attempts to do good and be better, had led her down a path of misery and grey colored grief. She'd lost apart of herself at twelve years old, a part of her that Marcus Kane missed deeply.

"Doing good and being good are two different things, Bell." Olivia whispered, her hands finding his with a desperate need to comfort the both of them simultaneously. "For what it's worth, I didn't know your mother very well, but I saw the way she looked at you, the way she talked about Octavia even. You could be the worst person in the world Bellamy, and as long as you recognized that, she would be proud. It meant you listened to something she said. That's the funny thing about parents, they don't really care about what you do, they only care that you lived and you learned."

Bellamy's hand twitched beneath Olivia's when he realized just how her hands trembled. Her face had lost off its color, her eyes somehow even dimmer then they had been when he left. Bellamy's gut coiled in guilt for not having noticed sooner, his worry immediately drawn to Olivia rather then himself.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy pondered, his voice thick with a blend of emotions that only humanized him more. His eyes were drawn to Olivia's, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on her hand when he felt her body flinch at the question.

"Those nuts, they must have expired. It's a common thing for hallucinogenic properties to secrete from beans and berries; especially on a radiation soaked planet." Olivia rambled shyly, her voice soft as she tried to recoil into herself. Her cheeks flushed at the attention, her hands growing clammy in Bellamy's as tears filled her eyes for the third time that day.

"What did you see?" Bellamy gently brought his hand up to cup Olivia's head, allowing her to melt into his side. He'd never vocalize his needs, but all Bellamy Blake craved was to feel like he was needed, and Olivia gave him that clarity. "Ollie, it's okay." Bellamy panicked when he noticed the way her breath drew in sharply and her eyes squeezed shut. A tear fell down her cheek, burning her skin as it fell.

Olivia's lip trembled, but she figured their was no harm in revealing even more of herself to Bellamy Blake. She had nothing to loose anymore, her will to thrive dwindling as the minutes passed. "Their was a reason why I was accepted into the cadet program nearly three years early, and it wasn't just because of my fathers position on the council."

Bellamy frowned, picking up on the fact that Olivia didn't want to talk about it any more. Olivia squirmed as her eyes landed on the dead body, her hands clenching around Bellamy's as if that would somehow provide her with comfort for not only Dax's death, but Michael's.

"Whenever your ready, you can tell me." Bellamy offered up the advice gently, hating the way his confidence crumbled whilst in the sole presence of Olivia Kane.

The girl had the ability to make even the most guarded person feel as though she could see right through them. Olivia could expose all of Bellamy's weaknesses without hesitation, he's given her enough reason to, and yet time and time again she proved that she wouldn't.

Olivia Kane would be the very reason that the remaining hundred would live long healthy lives on the ground. The hundred wouldn't be happy, but they'd at least have peace. Eventually.

——

                                                Olivia and Bellamy had sat beneath that tree for hours, allowing the dirt to stain their palms and the breeze to wash away their guilt as best it could. The both of them overwhelmed by the memories they'd reencountered. Bellamy gripped multiple bags of guns, Olivia heaving behind him as she carried along her own necessities of med-kits and blankets. Both Bellamy and Olivia had different standards of surviving, yet they weren't opposed to the rightfulness of the other.

Olivia sighed softly as she looked up towards Bellamy, her green eyes clouded dread. Her freckles were a maze in the glistening moonlight, the pure overstimulation of recent events and injuries corrupting her ability to think with a level-head. Despite the facade Bellamy was attempting to rebuild, he bent down, softly squaring his eyes with Olivia's with hopes to connect their unspoken humanity.

"Are you ever going to calm down, Bambi?" Bellamy teased, his words meant to reassure Olivia, and they did just that, her lips twisting upwards into a small smile.

"I like it better when you call me, Ollie." She huffed. Never once had she pictured herself being comforted by Bellamy Blake and his obscene nicknames, though something about the way Bellamy uttered Ollie sounded right. "Humor me for a minute, okay?" She asked, anxiety clear in her tone despite her attempts to try and calm herself. Bellamy noticed this, smiling softly to himself before nodding, giving Olivia confirmation to ask her question.

"Any particular meaning behind Octavia?" Olivia shyly pondered, her fingertips tangling within the fraying edges of the duffles. "The only reason I asked is because my father used to read me a book about a King—"

"—A King named Augustus, and his fierce sister Octavia." Bellamy cut in with a large smile, his eyes shinning beneath the stars that had once bought them both so much misery. "My mom and I would spend our nights reading old stories, mythology mostly, Augustus was always my favorite to learn about."

Olivia frowned softly as she looked down. Despite the warmth that spread in her chest at Bellamy's revelations, her guilt became unbearable as his words struck a chord within her chest. "My dad told me all about how my mother loved Greek Mythology. She had an entire collection of stories, her favorite was the Odyssey."

Bellamy's smile fell into place with a sad smirk, his eyes drifting downwards to the guns in his hands. His mother would be horrified by what he's become, though talking about Aurora with someone other then Octavia was liberating. The darkness had reigned within him for far to long. "My mother's was the Iliad."

Olivia finally mustered up enough courage to show Bellamy the tears streaming down her face, her lip trembling for the umpteenth time that day. "My names the only true thing she ever gave to me." Olivia laughed through tears, her own gratitude for Bellamy's understanding presence immense. "She found it in some stupid baby book, but she though it sounded like Olympus."

"It's beautiful." Bellamy offered a genuine smile, nudging his shoulder against Olivia's before he stood tall, the makeshift walls of the camp not far from sight. "Alright, suck it up, Bambi. We've got delinquents to arm."

Olivia rolled her eyes at Bellamy's heavy handed assertion of dominance. His love for order stemmed from an unruly upbringing, one that still haunted him despite the arrogant smirks and mindless gunfires. Bellamy Blake wasn't half the man he portrayed himself as, rather a man who had been broken one to many times. Olivia enjoyed being one of the few people that knew that, finding it even more heartwarming.

"Let the grounders come!" Bellamy announced arrogantly, laying the guns at his feet. Kids crowded around him, naturally drawn to his authoritative presence, though the added essence of guns only added to their captivation.

Olivia spotted Octavia in the crowd, her lips twitching upwards in relief for the familiar face. Despite Bellamy's comfort, she'd missed the feminine touch of his younger sister, who always seemed to know what to say, especially when it came to the heavy hold of pasts. Slipping away from Bellamy, Olivia attached herself to Octavia's side. A gentle smile pulled at her lips, comfort visibly seeping through Olivia's posture as she relaxed into the familiarity.

"You okay?" Octavia whispered, ignoring her brothers speech about surviving against the grounders. Olivia had always been important to Octavia, though seeing the visible affect the grounds had on her, it was as if she grew even more protective for the younger girl who'd never shown her anything but kindness.

"Those nuts were not my friend." Olivia groaned, her head falling to Octavia's shoulder in pure defeat. The day had gotten the best of her, and shamefully she had let it. "It's my birthday." She added noticing the way Octavia inevitably tensed at the reminder of what had happened to Elliott Greyson seventeen years ago. "Everything's just been so messed up today, O."

Octavia sighed, tightening her hold on Olivia's trembling hand. The skin was clammy and cold, the only true signs of Olivia's rising panic. "Just another day on the ground then isn't it?"

Olivia nodded tightly, her eyes avoiding Bellamy's despite his clear gaze on her. Octavia noticed the tense exchange of deep emotion between the two, frowning up at Bellamy before she looked down at Olivia who was clearly fighting back tears. As if a protective switch had been flipped with her, Octavia wrapped her arms around Olivia before leading her away from the crowd.

Olivia Kane was just a broken girl trying to act like she had everything perfectly put together.

——

Just as Octavia had coaxed a very disoriented Olivia to sleep, Clarke came barreling into the drop ship with worry etched across her features. Her hands were trembling at her side, her face pale as she tried to spot out a specific person in the crowd. Octavia stood from the chair she was once sat in, instead moving to meet Clarke in the middle.

"Have you seen Olivia? I just spoke with Kane and Jaha." Clarke asked, her eyes widening as she realized that for the first time in days, Olivia was peacefully sleeping tucked away into the corner. Despite the many long days the junior cadet had spent on the ground, the only time she got any rest was when consciousness physically failed her. It was beginning to grow worrisome, especially for Clarke who'd bore witness to her obscene patterns of grief beforehand.

"She's pushing herself to hard, Clarke." Octavia breathed out deeply. The Blake girl didn't show her emotions often, especially not to people like Clarke, though her genuine worry for Olivia only intensified with every glance down to her bandaged hands. "She's going to end up dead before the Ark can even come down here if she keeps pushing herself so hard."

Clarke frowned at Octavia's observation. The blonde had been so wrapped up in perpetual boy drama, negligence overcame her thoughts when it came to Olivia and her health concerns. "Has she eaten anything? She looks pale." Clarke noted, looking towards Octavia for a moment before stepping closer to Olivia. Her small body was curled up beneath a multitude of blankets, the heavy heat providing her with a feeling of safety.

"She had some of the nuts, but Clarke I think something happened when she was out with Bellamy. The both of them aren't acting right." Octavia muttered feeling less then heard as she stood beside Clarke, wincing when the stubborn blonde pressed the back of her hand to Olivia's forehead. The last thing either girl wanted was to wake Olivia before her body was ready.

"Bellamy just got pardoned for his crimes. He said Olivia talked him into facing Jaha, something about the Iliad, I don't really know what he was saying. Between the guns and the pounding headache I have, everything's a bit fuzzy." The blonde was never one to complain about her own health, but she was too busy fussing over Olivia to notice the words falling from her own mouth, or small smile that overcame Octavia's features. It was something as little as a book title, however it meant so much more to the Blake's, especially Bellamy who carried the words against his heart with everything he did.

"She's a little warm, it's probably just from the blankets though, god knows she never used to be able to have enough. We'd have sleepovers and my mom would worry about her suffocating beneath the duvet's." Clarke's frown broke into a small smile at the memory, though her reminiscing didn't last much longer then a few mere seconds. "Do me a favor, keep an eye on her? I don't want her in here alone."

Octavia nodded, hardly bothered by the task of watching over her friend. They'd grown distant since their time on the ground, an empty ache filling Octavia's stomach with guilt. Olivia Kane had always been gentle as a summer breeze, though the ground was nothing but a brutal midnight hurricane. She put up a strong fight to maintain her peaceful mantra, though it was easy to see surrender was creeping up beside her.

[mrmichaelchadler]

Second Season of Hulu’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” Off to Brilliant Start

When the first season of “The Handmaid’s Tale” premiered exactly one year ago today on Hulu, President Donald Trump had already begun inadvertently making America great again. The misogyny he spewed and empowered in his supporters spurred those who would normally remain on the sidelines to take to the streets. The Women’s March that occurred worldwide the day after the president’s inauguration served as a prelude to the #MeToo movement, which went viral last October, as charges of sexual harassment took down the careers of men who had previously appeared invincible. In between all of this, HBO’s “Big Little Lies,” Patty Jenkins’ “Wonder Woman” and Frances McDormand’s portrayal of Mildred Hayes in “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri” embodied the defiant spirit of female-led activism culminating in the founding of the #TimesUp movement on New Year’s Day of 2018.

There’s no question that creator Bruce Miller’s adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s 1985 novel couldn’t have been released at a more appropriate time. Its portrayal of a totalitarian society created by theonomist Christians to overthrow American democracy will be seen as one of the definitive works of the Trump era. The ten episodes of its first season took a simultaneously harrowing and invigorating look at how to fight against the normalization of oppression while maintaining one’s sanity in the process. 

As June Osborne, a woman whose fertility has caused her to be enslaved as a Handmaid (a.k.a. reproductive surrogate) in the Republic of Gilead, Elisabeth Moss further cements her status as one of the great actors of our time. Few performers are as adept at revealing the depths of their character’s inner life in a single glance, and Moss is especially gifted at illuminating the glint of rebellion tucked beneath the placid surface of her expression. She has made a career out of playing women who refuse to be broken by men, whether they be the sexist ad executives in “Mad Men” or the insufferable boyfriend in “Listen Up Philip.” There is a scene in that film, directed by Moss’ frequent collaborator Alex Ross Perry, that encapsulates her genius. After she finally breaks up with her boyfriend and he storms out of her apartment, Perry holds the camera on Moss as a multitude of conflicting feelings—relief, sorrow, satisfaction, remorse—ripple across her face. This skill is crucial for a character like June, who must spend much of the time repressing her true feelings when in the persona of “Offred,” her designated name as a Handmaid. 

Like “Big Little Lies,” a miniseries that has now grown into a multi-season show, “The Handmaid’s Tale” ended its first season at the same place that its source material did, with Offred boarding a vehicle without knowing where it would be taking her, though any mode of escape from her Commander, Fred Waterford (Joseph Fiennes), and his vindictive wife, Serena (Yvonne Strahovski), is most welcome. The note that Miller chose to end on was one of uncertainty, a fitting reflection of our current sociopolitical landscape in which nothing is guaranteed. Whether the subsequent episodes will follow in step with Atwood’s epilogue remains to be seen, though on the basis of the six episodes from season two made available to critics, Miller’s show is expanding its narrative while remaining as provocative and riveting as ever.

The frightening opening sequence calls to mind the Kafkaesque nightmare of Orson Welles’ “The Trial,” as handmaids are ordered to walk through a tunnel, their path illuminated only by light streaming through slats of wood. When they emerge on the other end, they find themselves in Fenway Park, which has been reconfigured into an arena for executions. Relics of the free press and free speech can be observed in the abandoned Boston Globe building (now used as a slaughterhouse) and a dusty DVD of “Friends” (made during the days when erogenous zones were acceptable fodder for jokes). We also hear footage of the Red Sox winning the World Series over the end credits of episode two. The early sections of this season promise the structure of an odyssey, as June enlists the assistance of various samaritans—including her beau, Nick (Max Minghella)—to escape her incarceration. Cinematographer Zoë White, who previously lensed Stephen Cone’s wonderful “Princess Cyd,” brings an epic scope to various shots in episode three, such as the bird’s eye view of June racing through a cornfield. 

Viewers hoping that this season takes off in an entirely different direction will likely be disappointed, since it’s not long before June is resuming her duties as Offred at the Waterford residence. Yet even in these familiar locations, the writers create intriguing new dynamics between the characters. Moss still manages to get in a few hilariously withering lines fueled by June’s inability to mask her contempt for her self-righteous rapists (her delivery of “Uh huh” is one for the books). She also gets to turn Mrs. Waterford’s words back on her, affirming that as long as her own child is safe (referring to Hannah, whom she mothered with her husband, Luke) so is the one she is currently carrying for the infertile couple. As the child grows in June’s stomach, Strahovski alternates between maternal warmth and venomous envy, bringing us to the brink of empathizing with her, only to repel us with her selfishness. Once again, the color red materializes in striking places—we see it in the curtains of the van transporting June back to the Waterfords as well as the blood pooling beneath her crimson uniform.

One strong addition to the cast is 20-year-old Sydney Sweeney, who recently won over viewers on Netflix’s “Everything Sucks!”, where she shared many of the show’s best scenes with Peyton Kennedy, the other half of their teen couple who gained a devoted fan base despite the program’s cancellation. The extroverted character she played on that show couldn’t be further removed from her role on “The Handmaid’s Tale” as Eden, the 15-year-old bride assigned to Nick. Despite her wide-eyed innocence, Eden is hardened in her conviction to obey Gilead’s laws, and since Sweeney looks much younger here than she did in “Everything Sucks!”, it makes her deflowering all the more disturbing. Thankfully, the scene contains no nudity, focusing instead on her hand gripping the arm of Nick, whose visible discomfort overrides any potential eroticism. 

The finest episode of season two, thus far, is the fourth one, entitled, “Other Women.” It’s the show’s best depiction to date of how unearned guilt holds a vice on one’s identity, fragmenting it into abstract concepts of good and evil that leave no space for the true essence of humanity. What makes Aunt Lydia, the Handmaids’ overseer, so fearsome is the fact that she is entirely convinced that her misguided efforts to save civilization—by administering godly virtues via cattle prod—are in line with holy scripture. She truly believes that she is protecting the souls of these women by repeatedly abusing their bodies, while placing the blame of their suffering onto themselves. As played by Ann Dowd, Aunt Lydia makes Nurse Ratched and the Trunchbull look like Larry and Curly, lending a Shakespearean weight to her character’s tragic dimensions. The character is not unlike any pro-life candidate focused solely on bringing life into a world unequipped to nurture it. By unearthing buried guilt from June’s past, Aunt Lydia insidiously elicits a tearful confession from her, promising that she’ll find salvation “as Offred,” thus leaving the damnation of her past life behind. 

One of the most cathartic elements of the series is June’s narration, where she gets to provide expletive-laden commentary on the surrounding horrors while clinging to her individuality. Now that Aunt Lydia has infiltrated her mind, June’s witty voice-over is suddenly silenced, replaced by the robotic repetition of formalities. I was reminded of Moss’ haunting monologue from one of her early films, Deborah Kampmeier’s “Virgin,” where she recounts how a dog receiving electroshocks refuses to leave its cage once it has been opened. This episode, more than any other, illustrates how a cycle of abuse can hold people captive by snuffing out their sense of worth. This is how the unspeakable becomes normalized. 

Among the show’s many triumphant achievements is its ability to throw viewers headfirst into the narrative, juxtaposing flashbacks and parallel subplots in a way that brings us closer to June’s disorientation without devolving into incoherence. Though Alexis Bledel was credited as a “guest star” during the first season, she emerges here as a full-on supporting player, with many scenes devoted to her character, Emily, a handmaid sentenced to a life of hard labor, in part because of her “gender treachery” (a.k.a. lesbianism). The scene from season one where she’s forced to watch the execution of her wife is as shattering as anything I’ve seen on television. In the second episode of season two, we get many wrenching scenes from Emily’s past, including an airport interrogation that calls to mind the hatefulness of Trump’s transgender military ban. 

Various actual guest stars accompany Bledel in this episode, and though their presence is somewhat of a distraction, they are all well-cast, notably John Carroll Lynch as the concerned colleague who tries coaxing his friend back into he closet. Emily’s scenes mirror those of June in how both women are faced with the question of whether to reject life altogether in the midst of a seemingly eternal hell. Cherry Jones turns up in endearing flashbacks as June’s liberated mother, while Moira (Samira Wiley), June’s friend who escaped to Toronto’s “Little America” community and reunited with Luke (O-T Fagbenle), has a scene where she refers to herself as “Ruby,” demonstrating that she still hasn’t shaken her past persona as a Gilead prostitute. Perhaps the biggest laugh I had during all six episodes took place in Serena’s flashback to her fiery confrontation with students. When her voice is silenced by their outrage, Fred cries in protest, “This is America!”, embodying the ironic victim complex of various Pure Flix movies railing against the suppression of their freedom to suppress the freedom of others. 

I’ll admit that I always look forward to the songs selected for the end credits of each episode. Their lyrics may occasionally be a bit on-the-nose, but they are also reassuring, reminding us of the time that came before Gilead and is destined to return. The songs are, in many ways, the battle cry simmering within the handmaids, and as June’s despondency grows during this season, the music fades along with her voice-over. In one indelible shot lensed by DP Colin Watkinson, we see June propped in her bathtub, resolved simply to keeping her head above water, nothing more. What ultimately breaks her out of her sunken place is the resilient spirit of her unborn baby, whom she converses with after days of silence, telling the child that the Waterfords “do not own you.” Her words, of course, echo the lyrics of the song that concluded the very first episode of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” Lesley Gore’s classic 1963 tune, “You Don’t Own Me,” which serves as the unofficial anthem of the entire series. 

Even religion cannot be owned by violent ideologies since personal faith cannot be policed. It’s refreshing to see June build her own candlelit vigil while praying to what she believes is a loving God. The motif of flames characterizing the first six of thirteen scheduled episodes for this season suggest that the handmaids may be planning to fight fire with fire, quite literally. Will the match that June lights to burn her uniform be the spark that lights the fire that will burn Gilead down? I can’t wait to find out.

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