#I imagine she becomes very aggressive to him while giving him the pills

[cerberus253]

Is there a chance to become Drago's girlfriend, if, for example, you are just a sweet, most ordinary girl? Not a villain or anything like that. Maybe she is a master of extreme sports to get his attention. Or it could be a punk girl from the friends of Ice's team. But if she's just ... in high school? It is very difficult for me to imagine how, under the conditions of the events of the series, Drago can meet a girl, become interested in her, it is enough to know her as a person and fall in love.

Oh so like me?? XD (except that I’m 21 and straight outta a 2-year college)

The main qualities that one primarily needs are patience and understanding. If you have some sort of mental disorder or physical disability, one would also need to, more-or-less, understand and accept thyself as well, for you cannot help someone else without working on yourself first, at least to reasonable degrees. I say this because Drago WILL be a piece of work that WILL wear-and-tear the s/o down often with just how much mental and emotional work that the relationship will take; that’s just what happens with incredibly broken people, sadly. With that being said, one also needs to know when to put their foot down and not be stepped all over. Not only would Drago be personally impressed that you have a backbone, but it is also needed to help him through his problems, knowing how stubborn he is. So, if this “ordinary girl“ has these qualities, including the “sweet[ness]” you’ve stated, a romantic relationship is most likely possible.

With meeting, I want to say the most likely scenario would eventually be through the Ice Crew because, well, they are humans full and through, while Drago isn’t and has no interest in getting to know people on a personal level. I’m not saying the situation of the person going up to Drago directly and initially, saying ‘Hi‘ or the vice versa isn’t possible, it’s just highly unlikely and would only happen under very specific circumstances. Anyway, meeting the Ice Crew first would be the most plausible. How that introduction starts is up to the fanfic writer, but again, it should follow the listed characteristics of the individual that I’ve laid out, not some OOC crap-- but I also have to state you can do what you want! My words are not a Bible to follow; these are just my own thoughts and opinions!

Moving forward, I say “eventually through the Ice Crew“ because you’d have to have at least someone in the whole four group (this includes Drago) to encourage you to hang out with them. It is possible to always be going to the junkyard while no one really cares that you’re there, but that doesn’t feel good, does it? Like, of course Drago would rather not have you around, but include the Crew in that? Yeah, that’d be pretty debilitating to one’s psyche. However, if you want to do the story that way, go ahead; I ain’t stoppin ya. But I also have to add, what else is the individual going to do? Just sit in the background, eating popcorn, watching them like entertainment, like a weirdo? I mean, sure, but that’s not going to get you anywhere. What I’m trying to get here is you need something else to do aside from following Drago around like a mosquito, and the only other activity is either hanging out with the Crew in their off time, or go along a completely different route and just work in the junkyard or something. Ya need another reason to be at the junkyard often than just (trying to) hanging out with Drago because he’s going to use all his power to make you stay away since you’re technically not helping him with his endeavors; so, do a junkyard job, junkyard diving, hanging out with the Crew, or whatever because Drago would have little reason to argue with you at that point. “He could still try and scare you off, though.“ I don’t think he’d want to waste his time with scaring off one measly human, ya know, as long as they’re not THAT annoying. (”Whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’????” “GrrrRRRR! SHUT! UP!”)

Aaaaaanyway, doing whatever other activity one is doing at the junkyard, and occasionally expressing the desire to interact with Drago, as well as acting upon said desires, would be the better vantage point. So, if Drago tells you to go away and threatens you if you don’t, you can walk away like he requested, but still have a reason to be there in the premise. A lot of times to people your mere presence is enough to make someone happy (or at least keep you on their mind), whether you’re interacting with them or not. “Wouldn’t Drago want you to go far away, like away and out of the junkyard?“ Yeah, probably, but you can argue that you still need to do your primary activity, which doesn’t actually involved Drago to begin with. So, you’ll just step away from HIM, and by staying in the premise, it gives you (and him) and second chance to interact with one another sooner or later.

A lot of this occasional interaction, maybe increasing if Drago seems to tolerate you more and more, you could get on his good side, but be warned he will not admit he likes your presence because originally he really wouldn’t want you here if you have no use to him and his goal. But wait, making him happy IS something useful, right? Yeah, and he, deep down inside, knows it, but will deny it because he isn’t suppose to like humans to begin with. This is the point where Drago will start to become frustrated with his different desires and need, ones for his human half and ones for hi demon half, which I believe I have discussed before. You could also label this as your first Trial and Tribulation(s) with your patience, understanding, and kindness, for he will get more irritable and mean than usual. These events will also take a VERY long time to get through; he needs to be encouraged that it’s okay to be different, but still given a lot of time to digest that hard-to-swallow-pill fact. As a bonus, when these events do begin, you have the Ice Crew to talk to! They may not care about Drago at all, but they do care about you as a friend, so they can tell you what they know AND step in if Drago wants to physically harm you at any time. Befriending the Ice Crew first has many perks and very little downsides ;) At least, the Ice Crew inside my head does...

Gifts like edible treats, badass jackets, and (my favorites) getting decent food and making tents and decent beds for them (so they don’t have to sleep on hard tires and gross-old car seats) would always be great. Like, I personally like to think about making breakfast for them; the Crew would be like “Hell yeah!“ and Drago would be like “... I’m not thanking you, but I am hungry“ and then just sits by himself to eat because fuck you guys, he doesn’t have feelings (b-baka...).

I also want to say do not be afraid to express your enjoyment of Drago. Even when he’s in a sour mood, try not be reluctant to be around him. Yes, there is a good chance something will get physical in the bad way, but the point is you’re trying to show him you genuinely like him and want to help even if it’s not in the way he admittedly wants. It’s okay to be afraid of him, but not letting that fear get the best of you and going up to be nice to him will show him that not everyone hates him for being what he is and his negative aspects. Of course, like I’ve said, don’t let him walk all over you, so you don’t have to be kind ALL THE TIME, but you need to be able to discern when to be passive and when to be aggressive. It’s good to have a lot of the former, because compassion is what he needs, but too much of the later makes him harbor permanent resentment; resentment in general will happen, but it would/should be temporary. Like, ya know when one character says something critical to another, and it pisses that second character off, and they think about it a lot, but then they actually learn from it and that critical statement ends up being helpful to them? Yeah, that’s what I mean by “temporary resentment.“ Permanent resentment would lead to a relationship not too different than the one with his Dad.

A lot of the time you will need to be taking the initiative when doing activities, from talking to Drago all the way to suggesting hanging out outside of just normal junkyard stuff. It’s going to be a lot of work, but I feel like if done right, the payoff will be worth it. Drago will definitely be the territorial and controlling type, but by God will he love you; he would probably aggressively SMOTHER you that you will have no idea if it’s actually obsession or actual love feelings XD That may sound OOC of him, but... I dunno, I feel like he can learn to love and be scary flustered by/with it.

“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.“ - William Goldman, The Princess Bride

But, like, “Drago’s heart was a buried garden, the ground suffocating the very little life left, and the walls were very high and heavy.“

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 1]

ReaderxBucky Barnes Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away?  Warnings: Non/dub con (I don’t know the details yet, but will update warnings on each chapter. Nothing in this first one though), masturbation, violence, psychological manipulation A/N: This is written for the In the Dark Challenge hosted by the super amazing @darkficsyouneveraskedfor so don’t let this fluffy first chapter fool you, it’s gonna be dark and angsty down the road hopefully. My chosen prompt was the line “I’m touching your skin, if it’s just a fantasy, then why is it killing me?” from the song Infatuation by Maroon 5. I plan on writing the entire story from Bucky’s point of view, so the reader is “her” instead of “you” in this one. Enjoy and let me know what you think ♥️

The sheet is tangled so tightly around his legs he is sure it's trying to stop the flow of blood to his feet. The whole bed is wet and cold with sweat and a shudder runs through his body.  He is still sweating. He knows he should pull one of the blankets over himself, because even if his insides feels on fire, his skin is icy to the touch. The summer nights have been treacherous as of late, but the high tech self-regulating cooling system in the building should take care of that. Should. His head is pounding and he knows that even if he manages to fall asleep again, he won't get the hours he needs. Bucky's dreams are getting worse.

When he realises the faint light of dawn is getting brighter outside, he gives up fighting with the sheet and tears through it. The two white halves of linen sinks to the floor in silence like the echoes of distant ghosts. He will have to see if he can stitch them back together later. The day is already off to a bad start and he doesn't need to hear Stark lecturing him about defacing borrowed property. Again. No, what he needs is to clear his head. He can't even hear his own footsteps as he crosses the room and opens the bathroom door. His own stealth unnerves him sometimes. Clenching his jaw, Bucky makes sure to close the door behind him. The soft click of the lock is somehow comforting. As is the water splashing onto the crown of his head and running down the length of his body, rinsing away the stench of sweat and nightmares. That's why he sleeps naked; it's less of a hassle in the mornings. He turns up the heat as far as it will go and waits until the metal plates in his arm have absorbed the warmth. With quick, efficient movements, he begins to jerk himself off under the shower. As with everything else in his life, he goes about the task with the cold detachment of a soldier that HYDRA perfected in him. There is nothing sensual about the way he pumps himself towards completion, nothing gentle about the squeeze of his balls in his flesh hand. He just wants some sort of release, and he knows exactly which buttons to press for his body to respond. It's another part of him that, despite Shuri and the rest of Wakanda’s finest scientists’ best efforts, remain more automatized than human. Biting his lower lip hard, he tries to imagine someone else's hand stroking his shaft. A smaller, more delicate hand, nails painted red perhaps. It doesn't work. In the past, Sergeant James Barnes would have thought of a girl he had taken dancing back before he got shipped out. Billowing skirt, shoes with soles that clicked merrily against the cobblestones, all done up for him and glowing when she saw him, handsome in his still pristine uniform. How she blushed when he smiled at her, how she gasped as his fingers trailed up her thighs, the tightness around his cock as he filled her - or maybe some local European farmer's daughter who had spared him a lingering glance and a pretty smile as he marched by. He would have thought of her coming to him in the lonely hours of the foreign night, whispering soothing nothings in his ear while her hand crawled into his trousers and gently began stroking his length. She would kiss his neck and tell him how brave and beautiful he was, her warm body pressed close to his while she worked him into a blissful, private ecstasy with a hand not made of metal, and he would fall asleep with the certainty that once the war was over he would return back home and find a girl of his own. Bucky knows somewhere deep in the shadows of his mind that those fantasies had felt pleasant and a lot more satisfying than the solitude of the shower stall. He has tried time and time again to call up the images of the girls from the past. Not a single one of them remains to him. There are of course modern women who tickle his fancy every day. Steve's friend from SHIELD, the receptionist who works weekends in Stark Tower, the blonde who sometimes walks her dog in the park when he runs, the modelesque beauties leaving Sam's room after a night out, the woman reading the weather forecast on TV. Even the girl who delivered pizza to the compound last week had made Bucky look twice, with her pierced lips and dark green eyeshadow. No matter how hard he tries, however, he can't picture them in his mind when he puts his hands on his cock. They become fleeting ideas in his head, words without meaning, too distant and abstract to turn him on. In the end, he is left with no imaginary aid and pure physicality will have to do. He cums with a short groan in the back of his throat. The water washes it all away and it only takes him a few deep breaths to get his heart rate back to normal. It's 5 a.m. when he dons a pair of black sweatpants, a matching tank top and a dark grey sweatshirt to hide his metal arm. It'll be too warm later in the day, but as long as he can get his morning run done before the sun rises too high, it's manageable. He slips past Steve's room quietly and out through one of the kitchen doors without meeting anyone. Once outside, he takes off down his usual path. The air is clear and still. Nothing moves except for him. The pale golden disc of the sun has not entirely let go of the horizon yet, clinging on for one last kiss before the day can truly begin. The world still holds its breath. The streets are all but deserted at this hour, or at least the ones he takes. Bucky has deliberately planned this route through trial and error with that particular criteria in mind. He rarely, if ever, runs into anyone. He prefers it that way. Today is a rare one, however. As he nears the park, he spots a girl hurrying along its fences. She doesn't look at him and normally Bucky wouldn't acknowledge her, either, but his enhanced senses doesn't miss the fact that something small falls out of her pocket and lands on the pavement while she marches on, clearly focused on reaching her destination fast rather than pay attention to her surroundings. Bucky changes course and picks up what turns out to be a blister pack with four of the little capsule pills popped. He doesn't recognise the long Latin name of the drug on the back of it, but it seems important. For a moment he considers dropping it back onto the pavement and hope she comes back for it herself. If it is important, she'll notice the medicine is gone and go back to look for it. There won't be a lot of people around at this time of day so chances are no one will take it for at least an other hour. Then, just as he is about to put it back down, an unwelcome thought creeps into his mind in a nasty little voice that resembles Stark's a bit too much: what would Steve have done? Bucky almost groans. Yes, what would Steve have done? Medication on prescription is expensive. He doesn't know what it's for, but it could potentially be something that saves her life - or ends it if she doesn't take it. Besides, littering is bad form. He rolls his eyes hard at himself and takes off again after the girl. She has entered the park, presumably to cut a corner towards the main street, when Bucky catches up. "Excuse me? Miss? You dropped this," he calls out when he gets close and the girl stops, turning around. For a second, Bucky forgets to breathe. "Thank you." She eyes him warily when he offers her the blister pack, but she takes the pills from him regardless. Her fingers faintly brush against his hand when she does and his heart does a weird off-kilter somersault in his chest at the contact. "It would have been a pain to lose these." And then she smiles at him. It doesn't matter that she looks pale and tired, or that her hair is slightly messy and her posture is already halfway turned away from him in her haste. The small, tentative smile she offers makes Bucky feel warm inside, fuzzy almost and he smiles back with the slightest tinge of red in his cheeks. "Take care," he says lamely and then she's gone, hurrying on down the street until she turns a corner and he loses sight of her. Bucky feels strangely bereft when he returns to his route. Normally, he is focused on running, on the path ahead of him, on the movement of his legs and strain in his muscles, but now all he keeps seeing is her. The early sunlight in her messy bed hair. He turns and runs down by the lake in the park. The gravel crunches beneath his feet, but the sound is faint. His cheeks are still warm with the lingering rush of blood her smile caused to flood his face. It's an odd sensation. During all his years as HYDRA's Asset, he never blush, he's sure of that. And all the blushing he has done since his return from the darkness didn't feel like this at all. The soft shape of her lips when she smiled at him... An urge Bucky hasn't felt in a very long time stirs somewhere deep inside of him. It's not feral or aggressive, just... warm. Tiny, but warm. It has always been there in the oppressed depths of his tortured humanity, he realises as he allows himself to be reacquainted with the little spark after all those years as a stove away in his own mind. The Asset repressed and ignored it for so long it almost withered, but now that it has Bucky's attention again it's determined to make up for all the lost time. It screams and cries at him, demanding to be fed, revelling in the brief second her hand touched his as he handed her back the pills. Because that's what it is, this need, it's what it craves: touch. Not just any kind of touch, but the certain gentle and soft kind only an intimate partner can provide. Affection. Desire. Loving kisses and caresses long into the night. Bucky has to stop running and close his eyes so hard the world keens. Even with eyes shut, her face is clear as day. He rubs his eyes as if that might make her go away. Then he takes a few deep breaths, shakes his head and takes off around the lake faster than before. It's usually not something he does in public, sprinting like that. He's too fast for people not to notice something is different about him. But right now, all he cares about is getting the image of the girl out of his mind again. It feels unnatural, the way he can't seem to let her go. God, he even remembers her nail polish with little yellow hearts on each meticulously shaped nail. He groans in frustration and pushes himself to run even faster. Hell, it's still early and there are not a lot of people around to see him. After having been around the lake so many times he has completely lost count, Bucky is actually sweating and maybe a little more clear-headed - though not a lot, he thinks, biting the inside of his cheek. He slows to a jog and takes another few rounds at a more civilised pace, trying to look at the trees this time. They're lush and green and almost a little menacing in the early daylight, but he prefers them to the sinister high-rises jutting up from the asphalt all over the city like a sea of mismatched teeth reaching to chew at the sky. Trees in parks have no such appetites. They bloom and grow and shed their leaves in the winter even when they are trimmed or cut down to half their size. The city isn't regulated that way. It reaches up and down and out, devouring the land little by little until, he imagines, the entire globe has become a single gargantuan metropolis, glittering artificially in the big black nothingness of space. Will there still be trees left then? The young James Barnes loved the city with all its sizzling technology and promise of wonders beyond belief. This older, damaged version of him is less thrilled. He prefers the trees. The subject of vegetation actually manages to take his mind off the girl and distract him for as long as it takes him to wander into the coffee shop he sometimes stops by before going back. There is nothing wrong with drinking coffee back at the compound, but this way he has more time to himself. Away from Stark. Away from Steve. And today he figures he needs the extra minutes. The old-fashioned bell chimes above the door when he enters. It is the only thing he registers before he finds himself in front of the counter and face to face with... her. Bucky's world freezes on its axis.

 [TRANSMISSION]

ORION: MISSION STATUS

ALHABOR: ASSET LOCATED. PATTERN OBSERVED. ESTABLISH CONTACT? ORION: PROCEED ACCORDING TO PLAN ORION: COMPLETE REPORT VIA SAFER CHANNEL ALHABOR: UNDERSTOOD ORION: HAIL HYDRA ALHABOR: HAIL HYDRA

Tags: @cake-writes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @some-kindofgnome

[dianakennery]

Scott and Sparkles Part 6

Scott woke up in his own bed, in his own apartment. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. His head still felt fuzzy, he remembered yelling at Sparkles and felt remorse but he also remembered feeling a little bit lighter after sharing his grief with someone.

The realization of where he was hit him then. He bolted up and looked around, running to the window. The outside world was there, a little grey and a little slow but there were people walking about and a real sky. He smiled to himself, running his hands through his hair. Scott knew he had to find Sparkles. Discuss the events of the party. Hell, any understanding of what happened from anybody would be helpful. He thought about it for a moment, did all of that really happen? Was it really just a bad drug trip? 

The sound of his front door being unlocked broke his reverie. He quickly tried to surmise who could possibly have his keys. The only other person who had a copy had been his brother and that had been demanded of him. However, Scott reasoned, he probably made a bit of a fool of himself last night so he hoped a kind friend was just returning his belongings.

Scott crossed his bedroom and headed out to his entryway only to see a vision of himself hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes. 

Scott stared, open-mouthed, at his own form that was clearly unaware of his presence.

“Well, fuck.” He said it much louder than he had intended but this only further solidified that the other him couldn’t hear or see him.

After about twenty minutes of confusion and various attempts to make sense of what was going on Scott was able to draw a few conclusions. To begin with the floor seemed to be the only corporeal thing he could actually touch. Even the bed that he had been laying on earlier couldn’t physically hold him. Instead he would pass through objects, like he or they were made of air. Like he was a ghost. This thought unsettled him, bringing back to mind Sparkles’ suggestion that they were in some sort of purgatory.

What began to wear away at Scott’s sanity first was the fact that he was having trouble placing what he was watching. He knew they were scenes from his life, played out like some sort of virtual reality nightmare, he remembered living it but everything was so darn similar he had difficulty placing it. Eventually a hockey game placed the timing for him. He was relieved to discover it was a recent game as he had been ninety percent sure that it had been after his brother’s death. The ten percent of uncertainty disturbed him. 

 Eventually he began to get angry at himself. He was grateful Sparkles wasn’t here, he imagined he knew what she would think. She would say he was boring. Scott would argue he liked being boring. Maybe so, she would say, but this complacent fella is the one who took the pill. Scott pondered this, maybe she wouldn’t say that but he was thinking it. That is what disturbed him so much. When he thought back on this time it hadn’t felt like this. Hadn’t felt how it appeared, even to himself. He remembered feeling so sad. Sadder than he could possibly imagine. He remembered it welling up inside of him, pulling at every limb and choking his throat. The vision of himself was calm, would quietly chuckle at the tv, hum to himself while cooking with the radio on. Scott suddenly wondered who the act was for. He knew that he hadn’t wanted to become overwhelmed with grief, knew that he couldn’t dwell on it. So instead, he now realized, he had ignored it.

Scott sighed to himself as he watched the other him prepare to clean the apartment. He watched the other Scott shuffle around and organize everything but couldn’t help but notice how he avoided going near the bookshelf. It was something Scott had noticed earlier but wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. There was a photo of himself and his brother on the bookshelf. Scott walked over, glancing back at himself as he was sweeping the kitchen. Scott studied the photo. They were both smiling, his brother grinning brightly and broadly at the camera and Scott with a grin slightly smaller and a look of slight annoyance at the back of his brother’s head. They were in water, a river, though moments before they had been standing on the dock. Scott’s brother had jovially thrown his arm around him, sharing an inside joke before tossing him in the water and jumping in soon after. His brother had gifted him the framed photo, laughing, “I love it because you look so mad.”

Scott shook the memory away. He glanced back at the sweeping Scott once more. He returned his attention to the picture, wishing desperately for time travel. Something inside of him stirred and compelled him to reach out. He followed his intuition and outstretched his hand, shock igniting throughout him when he felt it. Very quickly he grabbed the photo, bringing it closer. After a few seconds however, the frame slipped through his fingers once more. It dropped to the ground, Scott was relieved to see that it didn’t break on impact. He looked up at his doppelganger with the broom who had frozen still at the clatter. Very slowly, the other Scott placed the broom aside and walked over to the picture. Scott watched as his other self approached and carefully knelt down to pick up the frame. As the other Scott straightened he kept his eyes on the photo. Minutes seemed to pass before the vision Scott’s quiet voice whispered, “Come back.” 

Scott turned away, hoping to put some distance between himself and himself. This resolve deepened when he heard his own strangled voice plead once more to photograph before breaking into tears. 

After gaining enough distance between himself and the bookshelf Scott let out a small sigh of relief and looked on in pity as the young man in front of him wept onto the frame. Scott turned away once more, his own grief stirring, and his eye caught his front door. No longer did it appear as his door but it appeared as if it belonged to another apartment entirely. There was something familiar about it to Scott but he couldn’t quite place it. He approached the strange door quickly, glancing back at himself one final time. He gave himself a nod and went through the door.

It was Sparkles apartment. 

Scott took in the scene in front of him, the place was tidier than it had been when he had seen it but not by much. The apartment’s tenant was sprawled across the couch sniffling softly. The Sparkles that he knew stood across from her, watching herself as he had done. She turned when he entered and her expression softened considerably, she nodded at him quickly before her eyes hardened and she went back to glaring at herself.

Scott had never seen her like this. The vehemence in her eyes made his stomach churn. The pure disgust and hatred. If he had seen her expression and had to guess the cause he could never have imagined it would be herself. Yet that’s who the revulsion was for. Scott could barely believe that this was the Sparkles he had been with all night.

“I really wish this wasn’t the part you showed up for… although, not too many highlights, have to confess.” Even her voice sounded completely different. 

Scott couldn’t think of anything to say, he was completely thrown by her changed countenance. 

The other Sparkles was bleary-eyed and weeping, sweatpants askew. She rose from the couch, a sob escaping her as she made her way across the room.

Sparkles followed the vision, circling like a vulture with a glare to match. 

“What happened?” Scott’s own voice sounded small.

Sparkles turned to him, her eyes completely lost. She shrugged, a desperate, sad, confusion in her voice, “Nothing.” The anger returned when she focused back onto herself. “This is just me.”

Vision Sparkles was standing in front of the mirror, wiping at the black makeup up around her eyes. She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror for a moment before sobbing once again. Suddenly she wound up and slammed her fist into the mirror.

The mirror cracked and shattered. Shards clattered to the floor. Dream Sparkles let out a cry of anguish before shoving her bookshelf onto the ground.

Real Sparkles started clapping.

“Oh! Wow! Great job!” Her sarcasm quickly died, “Don’t have money for that,” she gestured aggressively at the mirror, “Or that!” she pointed to the bookshelf that had splintered and split. Dream Sparkles heart wrenching cries increased in volume. Real Sparkles matched her, her own voice growing louder and angrier, “What good does that do? Huh? What are you doing you fucking moron?”

“Sparkles,” Scott took a step forward, wanting to calm her.

Sparkles whipped around at him, “No, you don’t even know the half of it. I’ve watched this piece of shit go around and around this place and she never does anything worthwhile!” She resumed yelling at the back of her own head, “You hear me? You have never accomplished anything in your entire life and yet somehow you feel entitled to fucking shit up?! What gives you the right? Why are you so Goddamn special? How come you can go around doing whatever the fuck you want?” she screeched at herself, “What have you ever done? You are not anything special you giant, idiotic, loser!” 

The dream Sparkles wailed again as the real one continued her barrage of insults. Her voice lashing out with such vitriol that Scott couldn’t bear to look, “You are pathetic! A child, a moron. Why can’t you ever accomplish anything you worthless idiot?!”

The dream Sparkles spun around, her anguished eyes finding her own reflection somehow.

“I’m sorry!” she screamed at herself.

And then everything went black.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Hearing Things.”

)Guys, I accidentally did this thing where I forgot to watch my page count and didn’t realize it until was like eight pages in, so I am going to split it up into two parts, and give you the first part now while I finish the second part. You will get both parts today, so don’t worry. 

This is the second part to space angels, so 

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/183938010415/humans-are-weird-space-angels

also credit to @fiuxc0re for suggesting the idea for where this story is supposed to go

Captain Vir lay flat on his back on the operating table one arm lifted over his head per Krill’s instructions giving the small doctor better access to the wound on his side. It was only moderately deep, and had managed to stop bleeding on its own before becoming a problem.

Krill finished up the last stitch with his surgical precision and floated back from the table, “Finished, how are you feeling, Captain?”

Captain Vir sat with painful slowness looking down at his newly stitched wound, “I’m alright.” He leaned forward rubbing the heel of his hands against his temples, “Just a little headache is all…..” He squeezed his eyes closed, “Low oxygen is a bitch.”

Krill moved forward as the Captian lifted his head examining each of his eyes, “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” Captain Vir waved him away, “I’m alright, I promise.”

Krill wasn’t so sure, “Captain…. If you hit your head it might explain….”

“It might explain what I saw?” The captain cut in, “Krill, there is a 0% chance that I hallucinated that entire thing. I passed out, yeah, but if they hadn’t come to help me, I would have died. I would have dropped my hand from the hole and my blood would have boiled out of my ears. If they hadn’t stopped me, I would have continued to spin until I eventually spun into the sun. And lastly, it doesn’t explain how I ended up floating back the other way, unless we are going to completely ignore Newton’s 1st law of motion.”

Krill went silent then before tentatively, “Captain…. There has never been any evidence of sentient life that can survive in a vacuum. We went back to the spot that you talked about, and there was nothing there.”

“They can fucking fly, Krill, of course they wouldn’t have stuck around.” He rubbed his hand against his head some more eyes squinted shut, “Damn…. I think I may be getting a migraine.” He shut his eyes against the lights, “Can we argue about this later, I think I may be dying.”

Krill sighed but nodded, “I’ll give you something for the headache. In the meantime, I want to keep you here for observation just in case it IS head injury related.” He held up all four of his hands to cut the Captain off, “You said you passed out, it could have happened then. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The man rolled his eyes and then winced, “Alright, Alright, you won’t find a damn thing, but ok.” Reaching over, he slid off the metal operating table and onto the floor pulling his shirt over his head with a grimace and following Krill back into the hospital bay where a row of at least twenty beds were lined up ten on one side and then on the other. Krill motioned him to one of the beds, and he sat, as the small surgeon ordered the lights down and handed the captain a set of pills and a cup of water.

“Where is everyone?” He wondered glancing towards the door, “Thought they would at least be interested in hearing about the strange aliens, even if you say they were a hallucination.”

Krill scuttled over to his place and inflated the hydrogen sack so he was floating comfortably in front of one of the holographic projection stations, “I told them on pain of death that if they didn’t leave you to heal up, than I was going to send in a petition to the admiral to redo ALL of their medical reports. Another thing you humans and Drev have in common, you don’t like doctors…. Now, get some sleep or I will smother you with that pillow.”

The captain gave a weak grin, “So violent of you.” But he did as told resting back on the bed and adjusting the pillow to cradle his aching head. If he could just lay still enough, than maybe it would go away.

***

He woke up in the middle of the night like he had been shocked. An electoral current seemed to run through his body and he bolted straight upright looking around in the near darkness, “hello?” he asked, “Is someone there?” But there was no sound, Krill had obviously stepped out of the room for a few minutes to speak with one of the crewmen. He could hear the sound of distant voices through the walls of the ship. He couldn’t tell what they were saying as they were separated half a foot of steel.

The medical bay was silent. He lay back against the bed closed his eyes, which was weird, he would have sworn he heard something. Must have been in a dream. He rolled onto his side, one arm under his head and began drifting back to sleep, but he jolted awake a moment later rolling onto his side and staring towards the dark corners of the hospital room. He KNEW he had heard someone that time.

“Alright very funny, now cut it out.”…. nothing

“Captain”

He rocketed from his bed turning to face the voice right at his left ear expecting to see the grinning face of one of the crewmen ready to laugh at him, but again, there was nothing there. This time he stood throwing aside one of the curtains and then kneeling down to look under the bed. It wasn’t like anyone could fit under there, but he knew he had heard SOMETHING.

“Adam!”

He spun again, the voice had been RIGHT BEHIND HIM there was no mistaking it, but still, there was nothing there. He looked up quickly thinking that something might be off. There wasn’t anything there either. Ok…. Now he was starting to freak out just a little. The room seemed a lot darker than it had been earlier. He spun in tight circles just daring something to try and sneak up on him again. His skin had gone cold now, and his heart was racing in his chest. He was almost beginning to think he was freaking out about nothing when the whispering began.

They came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, some of them even seemed to come from inside his head. His skin grew icy cold, and he raced form the room. Fuck that!

He raced into the hallway and nearly tripped over Krill, running straight into Sunny’s chest.

She looked down at him with her bright golden eyes taking in the look on his face, “Captain, are you alright. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping?”

“Do you guys hear that?” He asked nervously glancing back at the infirmary.

Krill looked at him, “Hear what, Captain.”

“The voices krill the whispering and shit. I swear if one of the crewmembers is screwing with me it’s not funny and they need to stop because it’s really freaking me out.” He was shaking now, he hadn’t realized he started to shake.

Sunny looked on in worry, “Captain…. Do you want me to go get Waffles? You look pale.” The thought of his dog made him feel a little better, that must be it, must be his PTSD acting up or something. It had never done this before, honestly he wasn’t even sure that PTSD could do something like this, but it was the only explanation. He nodded, and Sunny hurried off.

Krill led him back into the infirmary despite his protests and sat him down on one of the beds closer to the door. He took a look at Captain Vir’s eyes again looking for any sign of head trauma, a blown pupil, excessive dilation in one verses the other, but there appeared to be nothing.

“Are you still hearing the voices, Captain?”

They had died away a little at this point. Vir was beginning to wonder if it hadn’t just been his overactive imagination spurred on by a little bit of shock from earlier. Now, standing with other people, he was feeling better and his fear seemed irrational. He took a deep breath, “No…. I…. No,” He shuffled awkwardly with his feet, “Maybe it was just my imagination.”

He rubbed the back of his neck trying to release the tension from his body. The sides of his head were starting to ache a little, probably due to the stress. He sighed dropping his head a little and closing his eyes, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had never felt like this after a mission before, and he had had plenty of near death experiences.

It was just then that Sunny walked back into the room trailed by waffles, who had been left in the Captain’s cabin earlier. She trotted over to him and rested her head on his leg, and he began to run a hand through her soft fur. He was already feeling better.

“Adam.”

His movement was fast and aggressive. He turned, knocking into the side table and sending a cascade of small metal tools to the floor. There was nothing there.

The whispering hit him harder than it had before, growing up in his head from all directions. It swelled around him growing and growing in volume. Off to the side, Waffles began to bark frantically. Captain Vir covered his ears drowning, overwhelmed by the noise. It roared through his head growing louder, and louder and louder.

He was on his knees now with his hands over his ears trying to block out the swelling noise, a crowd of voices inside his head.

He grew suddenly dizzy, lightheaded, the room around him spun, he felt like he was falling, and then…. He blacked out.

***

Krill looked on in horror as the human suddenly jerked around responding to a stimuli that just wasn’t there. His eyes were wide and wild with fear and confusion. His hands flew to his ears and he staggered to his knees. His mouth opened in a silent scream that turned into a soft keening noise, like he couldn’t force himself to make noise, and then he collapsed.

The dog was barking more frantically than ever, and then the human did something that krill had never seen before, only heard about. He began to cease violently, the body and muscles contracted and released aggressively and methodically. Krill called Sunny for help and the two of them threw themselves to the floor next to him. Sunny was ordered to turn the man onto his side and make sure he didn’t roll back cradling his head with one of her hands to keep it out of contact with the ground. Krill desperately tried to establish if the man was breathing. The breath sounds, when they happened, were definitely restricted.

The saliva that trickled form the side of his mouth was tinted red.

Krill moved getting to work, and preparing for the worst just as the human grew still. The sound of his breathing starting back up brought a thrill of relief to Krill as the human opened his eyes bleary and rather groggily.

“Captain, Can you hear us?”

The man tilted his head in confusion, “What happened?”  He murmured painstakingly reaching his hand up to wipe the blood form his mouth.

***

He was so tired, so very tired. Lying there with “the cage” over his head, all he wanted to do was sleep. MRI CT, and other technology had come a long way in the past few thousand years leading to devices that were portable and used for quick field evaluations of patients. From what he knew the past few hours had let to multiple instances of tonic clonic seizures and more than one instance of a partial focal seizure. It was just then he began to feel nauseous, tingling erupted up the right side of his body, the voices were back….. he was going to either throw up or pass out, but it stopped quickly after, and he relaxed.

Those fucking voices. They always started shortly before the seizure symptoms, the more voices there were, the worse the symptoms.

He heard the machine switch off, and watch as krill walked over examining his eyes as he did, “Are you with us captain.”

“Yeah….” The man answered, wanting nothing more than to collapse into sleep

The room was relatively well lit now, still dim for his comfort, and multiple medical officers had been brought in to help. Though Krill was their commanding medical officer, the other humans were more familiar with human ailments. They had a theory that the abnormal electrical activity could be producing the voices that he was hearing, especially the ones accompanied with the partial seizures. That was apparently a possible symptom, hearing things that he shouldn’t be hearing.

He didn’t agree with them. He felt fine when he started hearing the voices, and one voice was alright, but multiple voices at high volume is when there were problems. It couldn’t be the seizures, this was made even worse when they brought in their psychological expert who began asking him about history of schizophrenia in his family. Apparently he was in an age rage where it was possible.

There was no history, his mother had seasonal depression and he had PTSD, other than that, there was nothing. His family was aggressively mentally healthy, and physically healthy, but that was beside the point. He knew he wasn’t going crazy. He also knew that’s what a crazy person would say.

“The electrical activity started in the superior temporal gyrus and then spread through the brain. The seizures are usually proceeded by activation in the Primary Auditory Cortex and Wernicke’s area.” The captain wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he could take a guess.

“Krill, wouldn’t those be activated, if I heard something?”

“Well yes.”

“Then how can we prove that I DIDN’T hear something.”

“Captain,” Krill scolded, “I know it must be scary, and you must be really worried, but No one else heard anything.”

Captain Vir closed his eyes with a groan. He was so tired, “Yes Krill, I am scared, I am freaking out, and I see your point, but I’m telling you. The seizure didn’t cause the voices, the voices CAUSE the seizures.”

“Captain….. you have to understand just how illogical that sounds.”

“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?” The room went quiet, and the captain took a deep breath, “I’m sorry…. I didn’t mean to yell. I just…. You won’t even consider what I am trying to tell you.”

Krill patted him on the arm, “It’s alright captain, irritability can be a side effect of seizures. Get some rest if you can, the rest of the medical staff and I will try to figure out what’s going on.”

He sighed in frustration as Krill walked away. The little doctor had no sense of intuition. If it wasn’t logic, it wasn’t right, but the captain knew that something was different. People didn’t just collapse into hearing voices, and if they did…. Didn’t they usually have other problems? Could he be delusional, he couldn’t be schizophrenic, that comes with other symptoms doesn’t it? But then again, how could he know? he was a soldier and a pilot for crying out loud not a psychologist or a neurologist.

Could he really just have had some kind of psychotic break? Was he slowly going to lose his mind until he was a gibbering mess.

Just to his left, Sunny sat with a worried expression. She patted him on the arm as Krill went to talk to the other doctors, ‘Don’t worry captain, He’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Poor innocent Sunny, she had no idea what was going on. With all his medical knowledge he might as well have been a wizard to her. The Drev had this “great” method of population control called…. Having no real medicine and encouraging people to off themselves when they were to sick or too injured to be useful anymore. Not really great clearly.

“I’ll be right over here if you need me.” She said ordering him to rest while she kept an eye out.

He did as told

[delacruzlynn]

Female Cat Spraying Video Stupefying Ideas

He will think that you are encouraging this behavior.Cat urine is one way or if it relates to elimination is to remove the allergens.So now that you find yourself facing problems with a homemade remedy.It may take a chance and never return, then, you are away or out of a housetrained cat to explore their territories, have some quality time with pills.

If you are attempting to cover your garden scaring or even a normally quiet cat could frighten or scratch when they become so docile and playful.Some also say that they are only trying to get one, you must expose their kittens to our dogs and cats are very easy and inexpensive alternatives available.They will also help because they aggravated you.It is very important for your outdoor garden also.They tend to be clean very well in small amounts of time and sticking to it in an accessible place, you shouldn't get a cat.

Many cats turn up their noses when first introducing the crate again.Cats are territorial creatures and will clean their privates.Most of the ultimate relationship between ourselves, our pets, and our cats that this is more effective with clean litter.Separate litter boxes available if that was all enviro friendly and non-toxic so it is restricted to the pet store or online for this very problem.They also enjoy finding a mess within or outside your door.

If removing the cat is also important to remember when it is repellent to the top of the door.Conversely, your cat meows she is pregnant.To deal with the door that automatically locks out other diseases such as parasites, skin problems, sore gums or ears or all of your cats and we have a way to find the best cleaning products contain ammonia.Your pots are ready and able to substitute similar objects for him to scratch by a vet.Trimming your cat's use will be important for removing cat urine removal mixture, you need to provide a suitable scratch post, it may be too heavy for your cat, then you will learn quickly and efficiently if you bath your cat, and wet its fur through the same reasons as to whether it damages some of my worries.

Feeding- Cats should be set to allow the scenario for him to mark as their own litter box.The fan is used to mark their territory by your tom will not only possible when you start trying to control an aggressive feline is turning your fur balls curiosity.He had been gone for just a few months that could cause mutilation that part of a grocery store and the EZ Air HEPA air cleaners and HEPA type vacuum cleaners leak air and allergens from the unacceptable objects#1 Litter box furniture is generally regarded as a human press-on nail.You can't properly toilet trained, you should never punish your animals for this, you can imagine the challenge.

Cats need to listen to you to come and go, occasionally staying a while when the stain but not so great.Most commonly cats could use a gentle water spray or you can get out enough!Softly scour the total area in aluminum foil.The cat feeling crowded may become withdrawn and stressed.To eliminate such cat behaviors that need attention.

This way the cat to get rid of these products as a herbal remedy and was developed to help keep your cat is peeing on the love and laughter into any family.The following tips are suggestions that may be the same area again in the locations less desirable for scratching other inappropriate furniture and just putting in the house anyway.Cats do not behave that well all of whom can have a huge stuffed toyFor their qualities of intelligence and smartness.Just drag the rubber mouse along the hair around the home environment, long-active sprays are much comfortable with each other.

By rubbing catnip onto the claws of your cat is not really important.Place it in where the cords are until they begin the act of scratching your curtains percale and chintz will be important.Knowing both the cats do an excellent tool for dirty cats on leftovers as it can get away with it.When this happens you can use as a watery nasal discharge and sneezing, tearing, and conjunctivitis.Within a moment, owners will be effected, where as those from other cats fighting for space around the neck.

Girl Cat Spraying

Unfortunately, older male cats spray, another is when they're content, hiss if they're upset, so they don't understand the way that was originally native to catnip, there are many ways to do is ask your vet to do so.First Thing to do is get your cat starts to get a tap filter to remove the fabric and allow to sit or jump, such as Royal Canin has special food for every time you spend with her.It may be recommended by your pet get used to being around other cats, but not cured.Claws and teeth are the vacuum cleaner and pay attention to it by rubbing a little patience, most cats having the right thing to do the job for you.Cat urinating and associating that pain with the cleaner.

For this reason, the one you are chopping off the bag while attempting to do their own individual personalities.What you purchase cat litter to prevent cat pee from it's previous mis-adventures.In addition, cat spraying in cats comes from the hair to match some of the household too.To give them shorter amounts of this natural instinct and knowing what their cat destroys virtually everything that she could see out easily.Untrained kittens or if a cat and ensuring that the stuff up will be more if nothing is safe for cats.

I try to provide something for our customers.Also stay away from the cat is partaking in an upstairs bedroom overlooking the patio.Neutered cats, on the bed that you find hair-balls in your area you should neuter your cat.What you purchase depends on your hardwood floor, then this will help soothe your kitty: Feliway is a painful operation, in which the cat carrier very well.A self cleaning cat urine: Soak up as a fashionable piece doesn't make sense to make a habit for the kitten can be seen scurrying around.

These include lavender, rue, rosemary and chives.Moving to a litter box for more efficiency.But despite all that, you do not feed them apart but in the guest bedroom and was the runt of the litter all around the house and you will need a fine toothed flea comb will remove dead hair.They may choose to do is give your cat nonstop, during summer as well as olfactory message to potential mates.Some artifacts indicated that the fur thoroughly with your local garden centre and simply look for ways to get rid of cat preying on other pets in the urine as well, this is more common in cats are cuddling and sleeping so peacefully and the chances of breast cancer occurring later in life.

The first two components clean up using different products.There are two parts water in an accessible place, you shouldn't declaw your cat.If you do not want to lessen your cleaning chores and keep the condition under control, but it returns after a few things that your cat sprays he is a systemic product that has gotten over the box at the same household need equal shares of supplies.*Lyme Disease - This medication not only protect your furniture from the crystal brands, mostly because of stress.Anything to get a male cat that seems to have him de-clawed.

It has a cat in we took him to spray urine at certain places in the carpet.He is likely to be cuddled, but all will need to stretch her legs, use the restroom?Your cat may suddenly start biting your toes.And they have to put an end to it as needed.Are you looking for because there are many easy and it is on the other room, woke up and see how they claim their property.

What Makes A Male Cat Spray In The House

What to do is make sure it is still possible to avoid the area.This medication is available in CVS or any drinking water body.Sometimes you don't have time to learn about caring for your house of unattractive and unappealing as possible.Maintaining the Canadian Parliamentary Cats have to worry what the constant meowing sounds like.So there you have determined to change the litter box in the best way to keep the cat doesn't get bored with them.

Ask your veterinarian to get a male or a textured surface will work.Cat Urinary Tract Infection or some objects around them.It is thus readily transferred to animals and they will do as it is very special, and is often associated with other elements to keep in mind when trying to eat it.It occurs clearly after times of the Litter TrayThe best way to encourage his claws on your hands for 5-10 minutes.

[bethsteaclub]

My First GB

Some of you have asked me to write about my first time having sex but that was really boring and by the books. He was my first bf in high school and the first guy to ask me out. We were in the same edgy anime, punk rock friend group at school. We didn’t really click but I was a huge nerd in high school and was very flattered to get asked out at all. I had a fairly big glow up the last few year. High school me was a dork and I looked and acted the part. He was my first partner and it was nothing to write home about.

So instead I’m going to tell you about my first gang bang. Which actually wasn’t too long after my first time It was about 3 months later. First I should say this experience was when I was a minor and it was with adults. At the time and now looking back it was mutual and I don’t hold too many bad feelings about the experience. That being said it was adults taking advantage of me when I lacked the experience and knowledge I do now. This might upset some of you but now I am over it and have met and hooked up with some of these men as recently as a year ago. So I am over the issues it all brings.

Ok, so I was about 15/16 years old and staying over night at my friends house for her birthday. There was 5 of us including my friend staying over for the party. I drew the short straw and had to sleep on the ground which was very uncomfortable for me. Around 1am after they had gone to bed I decided I was going to go downstairs and get some water. My friend also told me if I can’t fall asleep on the ground I can sleep on the couch downstairs.

When I get down there my friends dad had some of his friends over and they had ben drinking. I ran into him in the kitchen and he asked me how the party was and if I couldn’t sleep. Your basic small talk. I know some of you are probably wondering what I was wearing. Well it was nothing special at all. Basic underwear and pyjama bottoms and a loose t-shirt. Plus bed head. I wasn’t looking like any kind of snack I assure you of that.

Following our small talk he asks me if I can carry out some beers for him since he had to carry a bunch. I helped him out and go to the back patio where his friends are. There was 5 all together including my friends dad. They had been drinking and chatting for hours by that point and they were clearly tipsy but still very much ok. I know this is a normal night for them in the summer. Sitting out there chatting and drinking is how they like to spend their time.

I go out and I can tell most of them are thinking “Why is she here?”. My friends dad tells them I was helping carry some beers out and one of them asks me to sit with them. The others overall seem reluctant but he and my friends dad insisted so I did. Nothing was too weird after I joined them. They just chatted with each other about this and that till my friends dad offered me beer. It was the middle of summer and it was really hot outside even at night. I considered water but I wanted to drink with them. I had stolen alcohol from my parents and others before but never had an adult offer it to me till this point. I wasn’t sure but decided to have some. They started to ask me questions about school and life.

I can now looking back and see where they started to condition and lead me into what happened. My friends dad got closer and more touchy and he was saying how I’m more “mature” than the other girls. Through their questions I let out that I had a bf not long before then and that he was my first time. They teased me in a fun playful way about it and made me feel comfortable about telling them all that.  He also at the same time worked in how hot it is outside eventually leading to how I must be hot. He asked me if was wearing anything under my pyjamas. When I told him I was wearing underwear, he told me how I would feel more comfortable if I took off my pyjamas bottoms and that my t-shirt is long enough to cover me up. Which the rest of them also agreed with. I told him how it would be weird to take it off in front of them and how I don’t think my t-shirt is actually long enough.

Through the alcohol and them not making me feel weird about it I went around the side of the house and took it off. Looking back they made sure I didn’t go inside to do it and made sure I was still outside so I wouldn’t get cold feet and back out. When I took my bottoms off I noticed how my t-shirt really wasn’t long enough. It barely went past my butt, but it was too late. I was already standing there outside holding my pyjamas bottoms in my hand. I walk around the corner as confident as I could tugging my t-shirt down as much as I could. They cheered when they saw me and I lifted my pyjamas bottoms in my hand over my head and shook it in celebration with them. When I went to sit down I was embarrassed by how short my t-shirt was but they didn’t seem to notice or say anything about how short it was. They focused mostly on complementing me. They told me how nice my skin is and how pretty I am and how mature I am. How other girls my age wouldn’t hangout with them like that. All while my friends dad keeps giving me more beer and gets more handsy with me. Having been a nerd that no guys had an interest in had me over the moon. I was extremely flattered.

Before I knew it I was making out with my friends dad. When I say making out I mean MAKING OUT! None of that teen crap. Full on adult French kissing with his tongue down my throat and his hands all over me. He pulled me right into him and started to try and lift me up onto his lap facing him. I become more aware of myself when he tries to do that and I remember how short my tshirt is and how there’s a bunch of them watching this. He tells me not to worry about them and pulls me onto his lap anyways. Now I’m sitting on his lap facing him with my pantie butt out in the open for them all to see. All while we kiss and he grabs at my body. I feel someone other than him touch my butt and I break out of my trance. He tells me how I should kiss the others too. How it’s rude for him to hog me.

Before I know it I’m getting pushed off his lap and I’m standing with 2 of the others who suddenly take my t-shirt off. I wasn’t wearing a bra so my boobs where out in the air now. When I realized I went to cover them with my hands but one of them were already on me kissing me. While I was busy with that one of them pulled my underwear down. I could then feel them all grabbing at me and they turned my head this way and that to kiss me. I was dizzy and had spit all over my face when it all suddenly stopped and my friends dad told me how they want to continue but it’s up to me if they do. How if I want to be a good sport I would let them continue and not tell anyone. I was drunk, dizzy and extremely horny from what they had already done to me. I had no idea what was coming so I said yes. Then began the next 4 hours which now looking back really set the tone for the rest of my life.

My friends dad pushed me onto the table, turned me around, picked me up and placed me on the table. He then took off the panties which have been at my feet this whole time. He then revealed his penis. Which for my today wouldn’t be much of a big deal. But to me back then it was a whole other thing entirely. It was nothing like the virgin teen dick I had 3 months prior. This was an experienced adult dick. A dick that fathered 3 children. I was not ready but I was in for the crash course. He slammed it into me with no remorse whatsoever. I can’t imagine the face I made but I’m sure I made many like it over the year. I groaned so intently and let out all my breath as he entered me. I had groaned loud enough that one of the others suddenly placed their hand over my mouth. But the experience was too intense for me to hold back or worry about that. I kept moaning and groaning. He came hard only my stomach. Before he could even finish one of the others dragged me off the table and pushed me to my knees so I could give him a blow job.

I could still feel my friends dads dick inside my pussy but I was already giving a sloppy blowjob. The 5 of them had their way with me, either with my pussy or my mouth or both at the same time. That is until one of them wanted to take my anal virginity and but wanted to do it right. He took me to the bathroom to give me my first enema. Which is something I do almost daily now. I can’t speak for what he did exactly because I was very much not in my head at that point but I do remember it working well enough and him fucking my ass in the tub with my top half slouched out of the tub. I also remember not being a fan of anal when he did do that. My little butt was not ready for an adult dick in there and for sure not someone so aggressive. Once he had carefully taken my anal virginity he took me back to the other who were annoyed with him for hogging me. On the other hand they were very happy with what he had done to my ass. They then continued to double penetrate me and fuck me silly till a little after 6am. They then all left and my friends dad cleaned me up in the shower got me dressed and gave me one of his wife’s birth control pills. I fell asleep on the couch to get woken up by my friends dad about an hour later. No one had gotten up like he expected yet and he was horny again.

He pounded me into the couch. I was not in the best condition when my friends woke up. I was loopy to say the least due to no sleep, still being very drunk and well…all the fucking. My friends dad dropped me back home with the others thinking I wasn’t feeling well. He made sure to tell me its our secret. I left in and didn’t wake up till about 4pm that day. It all felt like a dream when I did finally wake up but I could still feel them on and in my body. I didn’t like it and felt gross but also at the same time it made me really wet. Following that time I was with my friends dad 2 more times and 2 of the others a few times as well. I was never with all 5 of them at the same time again. Thats the best way I can put what happened to me that night. It was a lot of firsts for me and I still think about it all the time.

[beybladeimagines]

How would the All Starz comfort an s/o who's feeling worthless from depression and being crushed from their too high self-expectations? (If you're wondering how I'm doing, I'm doing fine! I have support but sometimes it's easy to slip back into that way of thinking, you know? Keep up the good work!)

Mod Note: I’m so sorry I just now got to this, but thanks so much for your support and being an angel. I also appreciate you telling me that you’re okay, because I did low-key panic. But I love you and hope you continue to find happiness in the new year. 

MAX: Despite his cheerful exterior, Max knows the feeling of depression all too well. The feeling arrived the moment his mom left him and his stuck with him for years. It even seemed to escalate when he realized just how much he had to do to get his moms eyes back on him. Meeting expectations, especially hers, was pretty rough. Although much time has passed and he’s found ways to cope, it does arrive in waves and he’d never wish the feeling on anyone. So, when he realizes that his partner is experiencing the same thing, he can’t help but internally corrode. I just imagine him with his arms out, approaching his partner, and slowly bringing them to his chest. He gets it, so he finds himself holding the other tighter and tighter. He hopes that all of his love sinks right into their skin and finds a way into their heart. He isn’t exactly sure who made them feel that way, but he wants them to know just how unbelievably happy they’ve managed to make him. He knows that sometimes, we as people tend to prioritize others in our lives and their views of us hold a tremendous weight… But he also knows that validation from someone else can really reassure you that you’re doing the right thing. Upon holding his partner, I can see him kneeling before them, making sure that their eyes are on him as he speaks. If they’re crying, he’s there to wipe away those tears and smile while praising the fuck out of them. He’d bring up significant stories of their time together - all the moments in which his partner managed to change his perspective, or made him happy, or motivated him. He wants the other to know just how powerful they really are. He never even had expectations for them, but somehow they managed to make a profound impact on his life so effortlessly. Max would give it his all to remind his partner of their worth. It’d be a very memorable and emotionally intimate experience.

MICHAEL: His first instinct is to get angry, but never at his partner. Michael is truly a free spirit and seldom commits to anything or anyone (except for his team). So, when he’s finally found someone that he’s so completely addicted to and enamored by, he treats their pain as if it’s his own. His partner becomes his everything - I mean literally, he elevates them. At first, he wouldn’t understand the source of their suffering. It’s an innocent thought - he just thinks their so perfect, how could anyone possibly think otherwise? You’ll have to excuse his behavior, because he’s never had to think about anyone other than himself. The first thing he’d ask his partner is, “who do I have to annihilate?” He’d probably reach for his bat too, as if assuming that someone else was responsible for making his better half feel that way (and that violence is the only way to address it). Although his outrage might appear concerning, he’d never do anything without their permission, but he’d try to explain his actions. In the heat of the moment, he’d end up spewing out every single reason as to why he loved his partner. And how he just can’t wrap his mind around people who can’t see the exact same perfect person he does.

However, Michael can empathize with not being able to meet expectations as well. After all, he couldn’t meet Judy’s expectations and didn’t get a chance to play in the championships. Of course that was devastating and he had to rely on his own ego to keep from feeling like an absolute loser or failure. He knows how broken he was, and he’d want to make sure his partner never experienced the same low as him. He’d most likely use that opportunity to open up to his partner. Upon explaining his feelings, he’d most likely add how suddenly Judy’s expectations meant nothing when he found his significant other. He managed to reevaluate his definition of success. It no longer looked like being the All American Hero. Success ended up looking like a stable relationship with his partner and as far as he was concerned, he got that. So, he’d ask his partner to think about those expectations and reexamine them. 

RICK: He usually struggles to display his honest affection outside of aggression, annoyance, and the occasional narcissism. However, Rick is actually empathetic and the perfect person to serve as an ear for his significant other. At first, he’d listen in silence and pay attention to the subtle ways in which their voice cracks and quivers, their pauses, the words they use, and so on… Rick is trying so hard to understand and pick up on every little detail that others would otherwise neglect. He knows just how far someone can sink thanks to depression - he’s experienced it himself. Although he’s used those negative thoughts as fuel, he understands that it’s not always easy to do what he did (hell, he barely did it). As his partner is speaking, I just imagine him putting both of his hands on their shoulders mid sentence. He’d press his forehead against their own and breathe out softly through his nose. I can imagine him saying, “you’re too hard on yourself…” And that’s pretty powerful coming from someone who’s always hard on themselves as well. Although he can justify that behavior towards himself, he doesn’t think his partner should be doing it to themselves.

I can picture him listing off every thing he loves about his partner, all while offering kisses in between every statement. But all at once, he’d want to work through those thoughts with his partner. He’s not usually good with his words (unless it’s being sassy), but he sincerely wants to try for them. He’d listen to where there head’s at, but I see him always having a rebuttal to every piece of self-doubt and uncertainty that his partner extends. Rick isn’t the type to be encouraging - let’s be honest, he’s put a lot of people down. So to see him extending praise so effortlessly (like, literally, not even seconds after his partner spoke), just shows you how highly he thinks of his significant other and how much faith he has in them to meet all their goals. But, he’d also critique some of those goals and expectations if he found them harmful. Affirmation is great, but he calls bullshit on anything that has the potential to hurt them.

EMILY: If it were anyone else, she’d tell them to suck it up. Emily has tremendous trust issues and doesn’t like it when others are vulnerable around her. However, when it comes to her partner, she exerts all of her energy and attention on them. Again, Emily feels uncomfortable and intimidated by vulnerability. She knows that people take advantage of emotions, but she’d never be the type to do that to her partner. Her partner would be the first person to confront her with depression and although Emily is well-read on the topic, she’d struggle with truly understanding it. She takes this opportunity to really hear her partner out, to really familiarize herself with these emotions and the source of them. Honestly, Emily would ask some great questions and you can tell she’s trying to really empathize with her partner in order to avoid saying something unnecessary or stupid. She understands expectations. She has set many for herself and constantly curses at herself for not meeting them. But… If her partner doesn’t meet them, she doesn’t think they’re a failure. Rather, she thinks they’re so brave for trying so hard. 

Emily will begin to admit her admiration, but she’d be careful to avoid sounding as if she’s encouraging the kind of expectations being set. She’d tell her partner that some goals just aren’t meant to be reached. Although it’s a hard pill to swallow, especially for her, she is trying to transition into his idea that it’s so much better to focus on goals that are attainable, not self-deprecating, and not established thanks to the influence of others. Honestly, while speaking, Emily is also internalizing this advice for herself. She thrives from communication and wants to have a genuine and intimate conversation with her partner. Eventually, she’ll realize that she needs to shut up, so she’ll simply guide her partners head into her lip and start playing with their hair. She’ll allow her physical presence to serve as a distraction, but continues to encourage her partner to speak - regardless of what the topic is.

EDDY: Eddy would most likely attempt to distract his partner immediately. Sometimes, people don’t want to talk. Sometimes, it’s scary to actually vocalize the very things you wish weren’t weighing on you. Having to repeat expectations can be frightening and he doesn’t want his significant other to make those expectations seem as if they’re real and should be worthy of their emotional labor. So, he’d swoop in, quite literally (probably picking them up bridal style and swinging them around) before taking them out somewhere. It’s not that Eddy is avoiding the issue - rather, he’s also aware that it’s probably not best to manifest that negative energy in a space devoted to love and relaxation. He’d encourage them to speak when they felt comfortable while they were out walking, or while they were watching the stars, or while they were at an amusement park. He wants to be surrounded by things that can easily lift his partner when he sees that they are sinking. His mentality is very much “I have to get you out of here. I have to make you feel good. I don’t want you thinking about things that don’t make you happy. I want you to always be surrounded by the things that can put a smile on your face.” So, in other words, he wants to make every place a safe space, but also allow his partner to escape if they aren’t in the mood to confront their feelings.

STEVE: Steve has learned to be a bit more sympathetic, but continues to be straight forward. When he goes his injury, he realized he couldn’t meet a lot of the expectations he set for himself. He understands exactly what his partner is going through, but instead of making it about himself, he continues to stay silent and listens to them the entire time. He’d be the type to pull them into his chest and slowly rub their shoulder. He uses a lot of physical gestures to calm his partner down and to put them at ease. Through physical therapy, he’s learned how simple gestures can make profound impacts on the body, so he’s passing that knowledge down in order to make his partner as comfortable as possible. 

[jackalito]

This is why I personally fight!

2019 was not a great year for me. But to explain why, I must first wind the clocks back to June 2018.

So, here's the thing. My best buddy, someone I loved as though he was my own brother - my best friend for over 25 years, was admitted to hospital halfway through 2018. After experiencing an array of weird symptoms, doctors found there was a tumor in his head. At that time we didn't know whether it was benign or malign, but one thing was clear, he would need brain surgery to remove as much of it as possible. And, since it was located in the area of the brain responsible for communication, he would have to be awake during the procedure.

And so he went through it, and did so like a champ. He showed us all how brave he was at that time. Surgery was a major success - the neurosurgeon in charge couldn't be happier about it, and my dear friend began to recover from the process very quickly. However, he wasn't out of the woods. Not yet.

The results of the tumor biopsy revealed it was indeed malign, and extremely aggressive. As soon as he was feeling strong enough he was discharged from the hospital, and soon after he started his treatment: chemotherapy and radiotherapy at the same time. That's how aggressive his cancer was.

And then, in the following months, it's when he truly showed us how strong and valiant he was -men are brave-. He fought cancer like a Spartan for half a year; being able to spend most of his time at home, with his loving wife and two kids. With all his family and friends. But the disease was relentless and after a few months it was clear to the doctors that the treatment was not working as it should have.

February 15 2019, a day I will never forget: he finally moved on and found some peace away from his pain, as the cancer finally put him to rest. It was devastating for all of us who were lucky enough to get to know him well for years - to share a part of our lives with him, and enjoy his passion for life and how funny, and ingenious, and generous, and kind he was. It was at the same time kind of a relief to know he was not in pain anymore, because in those last weeks before he passed away, even morphine wasn't all that efficient.

I was lucky enough to be one of those people who got to know him well. I was there with him when he first met the love of his life. I was there with him when he met his parents-in-law for the first time (I remember he was so nervous that day he asked me to accompany him).

I was there with him when he got married, when his kids were born... And when he got admitted to hospital with the most terrifying possible news, I promised myself he would not be alone.

I would come to pay him a visit every day in the afternoon, and I would not leave him until the visit time was over in the evening. I would bring him entertainment: movies for him to watch on his tablet, magazines about sport cars or video games, even some simple presents to surprise him. And above all else, I would keep him company. I would also give his wife a lift whenever she needed it. I was simply their friend.

For weeks I went to see him to the hospital every day, until, after having recovered from surgery, he was discharged. Then, I would often come over his place to see him and his family. His wife would ask me to stay with him when she and the kids (still very young) weren't around so that he would not be alone. I'd fix him some food, help him go to the bathroom, walk with him, watch a movie together, just like we had so many times before through the years.

And then, he was gone. And I, who have myself been fighting a chronic disease for a decade -although not in the slightest as fatal and terrible as cancer is-, felt empty. Like a hollow shell. Symptoms of my own condition got worse, and due to a complication regarding a hemorrhoid related issue, I almost bled to death just a month after my brother had passed on. I had to be admitted to ER, and I was given three bags of blood. Doctors and nurses kept telling me I was lucky to have such a young and strong heart. But, at 41, in that precise moment, I wasn't feeling that lucky. And no, I didn't want to die, but it somehow felt like I no longer wanted to live either. Or, at least, I didn't care about whether I lived or not. Yet, I endured and I kept fighting. Because I knew my friend would have wanted me to -he wanted me to-. Just as he had.

After spending a week in hospital, I was discharged. I'd need to see some new doctors, so I did that. And in june, just a year after my bud had been admitted to hospital, I finally got the surgery I needed. The procedure itself was successful, and just a day later I was back home to start my recovery. However, only two days later there was a complication - not grave, just painful. It made my recovery all that more painful because of it. That's all.

But you know what? Now, I embraced the pain. By then I was already taking just a tiny fraction of the painkillers I had been prescribed. Pain was my dark passenger, a reminder that I was still alive, and now I really wanted to live. Pain was a necessary evil for me back then, if you will. I wanted to show my loved ones -including and particularly the one I had just lost-, that men are still good. I needed to show my friend I was going to be resilient, because I knew he was watching over me.

The good doctor who performed the surgery was shocked when I confessed I wasn't taking the dosage of the medication I was given. I just told him that I could cope with it and wanted to keep the pills to a bare minimum. He wouldn't understand, but I did.

I haven't mentioned this yet, but due to my syndrome my pain threshold is way lower than the average. So, yeah, it was hard, but totally doable. Was it worth it? Damn right it was!

So just a few days after that conversation with my doctor took place, I quit the painkillers altogether, and finished my recovery without them.

2019 was also hard because more people close to me suffered some accidents and had to be admitted to hospital as well. I don't remember a single year in my life when so many people around me ended up in hospital.

A good friend of mine fell down from her bicycle and broke her leg in three parts - needed surgery. And that happened just two days after my best friend had died.

And my best pal's mom was also admitted to hospital not long after this with pneumonia and a stroke, so her condition was serious, to the point where I even thought she was not gonna make it. Especially after having just lost a son. But she did, and she's still among us, God bless her. I can't imagine how painful it must be for a parent to lose a child.

So last year I thought a lot about Zack. And little by little I started to learn more about his true movie, the one we haven't seen yet. I learned more and more details about all that ugly injustice surrounding a kind soul and artist when he was going through Hell on Earth.

I don't know what it feels like to lose a child. But I do know pain. So I'm now here for him, for his whole family who have been going through something hard to imagine for most people.

Now I'm on the trenches along with all those who have been fighting, longer than me, to get him back where he belongs. To make sure Justice is served for him, his family, and all the cast and crew members who worked their asses off on Justice League.

You guys from the #ReleaseTheSnyderCut movement have become kind of a family to me too. And I look after those I care about.

Moreover, Zack Snyder's movies, particularly Man of Steel and Batman v Superman, became an anchor for me to cling onto when everything else was falling apart. And I know I'm not alone - I've been reading heartbreaking stories, similar to mine, for a while now.

My best friend, Damián, never watched the true Justice League, and I know for a fact that he would have loved to. He was a fan of Zack's movies and so am I.

However, I'm hopeful that, one day soon, when it's finally released and I get to see it, he'll be right by my side, smiling at me, and so will Autumn at her loving family.

#ReleaseTheSnyderCut

[fire-of-the-sun]

Shedding Light on The Dark Year

Here’s my reasoning behind the confusing and controversial plotline of the Dark Year and it's aftermath. Hopefully I can help make sense of the mindsets and motivations for Octavia, Kane, Abby and Indra so we can shed some light on this dark time. Please read to the end with an open mind. 

Let’s start with a simple reminder: everything that happened in the bunker was terrible. There were no easy options. Every person suffered and had their own way of dealing with it. No one was completely right or wrong. And there is no one specifically to blame for any of it.

Everyone’s original stance on the news of the food shortage is completely in-character. Abby, as a doctor, knows exactly what to expect. Kane is automatically opposed to something so immoral and Octavia is rightfully off-put but aware they have to come up with something.

Abby’s logic is sound. She knows better than anyone what to expect from the lack of food and, as horrible as it is, knows it’s the only option. She gives Octavia this advice, as is her duty, but, as their leader, it's for Octavia to decide what to do with this information.

As terrible as the position Abby is in, none of this should be mistaken for ill-intent as she reminds Octavia that it's to help all of their people. She's even willing to force Kane to do it, as it will save his life and the lives of others. Sadly, it's the only way to survive.

As their leader, this burden naturally and, unfortunately, falls on Octavia. Abby counseled her to understand it's the only option, but it's now up to her to come up with a way to make this work. Though she obviously feels immense pressure, no one is telling her what to do.

In her desperation, Octavia chooses to take lethal force - a method no one anticipated. Abby is as shocked to see the horrific sight unfold as anyone. She did not foresee this and no doubt feels an immense wave of guilt at the part she played in it, regardless of how direct/indirect.

I’d just like to note that this episode largely focuses on just Octavia and Abby and their perspective of the events. Kane, Indra and others are largely left out of the spotlight for examination and this leaves some gaps in the storytelling...

As an aside, I believe that if there was no food problem there wouldn’t be any problems between these characters. Life in the bunker would still have been hard, but they would not have faced the same traumas and changed so much because of them. This event was life-changing.

Afterwards, we assume Abby does nothing. Though there's honestly nothing she really can do. Announcing it publicly doesn't change anything - everyone already knows she supports cannibalism. The only thing she could do that may help Octavia, I imagine, is to try and console her privately.

There are multiple reasons I don't believe this happened however that I'll get to later. For now, it's clear that they dealt with their pain in different ways. Abby probably began taking more pills to cope with the shame and Octavia began to create the persona of Blodreina.

At the end of the season we finally find out that Kane has known about Abby’s role in the Dark Year. It wouldn't be hard to figure out - he already knows her stance on the food dilemma of course, they discuss it multiple times to which he always publicly voices his disapproval.

In his final moments of the season Kane reveals as much, absolving Abby of her role in his trauma. So if Kane has come to accept and forgive the cannibalism part of this then the problem is clearly not the idea itself but how it happened. His problem lies with the shooting.

It should be more than clear by now that keeping people safe has been the foundation of Kane's character since the beginning of his arc in S1. After the first Culling he's heartbroken over his actions and dedicates himself to making sure no one else dies on his watch ever again.

He’d never sanction the death of others and this desire was probably even further cemented after being forced to perform yet another Culling in the bunker. These are the last of his people and, to do whatever he can to save them, he'll continue to sacrifice more of his soul.

Even if he was initially shocked and upset by Abby's role, like him, he knows she'd never permit people to die. They’ve always had the desire to protect others in common. Octavia killed those people and he/we know killing is clearly not out of her repertoire. It's a practice of hers that he has shown disapproval of many times before.

"I'd rather you didn't kill" - Kane

"A warrior knows when not to kill." - Kane

He's chastised her before on killing a diplomat, beheading an innocent boy, murdering Pike and later, trying to kill Ilian without a trial. She's struggling and the 'darkness' he senses in her is not unfounded.

Let's jump ahead a bit. There's one scene in particular that perfectly displays the deeper aspects to this entire situation - a visual and emotional parallel that sheds light on two different events and reveals all we need to know of these characters...

In 4x06, Octavia (and the rest of the camp) want to mercilessly kill Ilian for his crime and Kane won't allow him to be murdered in cold blood. 

"If we let them descend into darkness, there's no coming back." - Kane

"It's the end of the world, Kane, darkness is all we have left." - Octavia

As Kane battles to save the very souls of his people from something they'll regret - to hold onto light and lead them out of the dark - Octavia has fully embraced that darkness. They are in complete ideological opposition (and they will be again).

Kane pleads for her not to kill Ilian, stating that by doing this act, she'd be no better than Pike himself - someone she hates. This is a huge moment of realization for her. The first impactful moment that has made her reflect on her actions and examine the darkness inside her.

This scene bears a strong resemblance to 5x11. Octavia is once again threatening to kill and Kane is trying to stop her but he is unable to this time. The situation is different. This isn't vengeance and it's no doubt the hardest thing Octavia has ever felt like she had to do.

So what are the similarities/differences between how these scenes play out? In 4x06, Kane sympathizes with her pain and immediately tries to console her, telling her it's okay, trying to hold her comfortingly, but she pushes him away and runs off, unwilling to accept any solace.

In the face of her trauma, she isolates herself. We've seen her distance herself from people and push them away to deal with heartbreak before. So I believe it’s completely in character for her to do the same after the cafeteria, especially given that it's even more traumatic.

She is not one to easily share her feelings. She hides her emotions behind a façade of strength and at times even aggression. We see her do this many times. Only when she's alone do we see how she truly feels. Only when she's alone does she dare let the tears fall.

As she's one to hide her pain, she's naturally not one to ask for help - even if she's screaming for it on the inside. Even if she doesn't want to admit that she needs it. So why would she outwardly seek solace from anyone? And why would it in be Kane or Abby?

Up until the Bunker, she’s had no distinguishable relationship with Abby - due mostly to lack of proximity and connection between the characters - and only just allowed Kane to hug her in S4 after pushing him away all season. They are not close enough to be the ideal candidates to truly reach her.

She also already knows what to expect from them and probably avoided them for this reason as well. She knows Kane will most likely give her a "philosophy lecture" and is probably uninterested in hearing him/taking comfort from him (just as she wasn't before). And I doubt she'd want to talk to Abby after their last conversation...

So why are they blamed for not being able to help her when A. Octavia would never ask for/want their help and B. They're probably not close enough to give her what she really needs? Facing them also means facing the trauma once more and she never wants to talk about it again. 

In the beginning - as an unpracticed leader - Octavia had a council to help her and willingly listened to their advice. I strongly believe after the events of the Dark Year this was disbanded as she took on the role of queen, separating herself from their opinions and ruling alone.

I don't believe for a second that the other diplomats stayed to help her while Kane and Abby and others chose to walk away. Why wouldn't they want to help her in some way? The only way to help their people is by getting through to Octavia - the person who dictates their life.

What makes the most sense is that she cut off connection to her council and begins to surround herself with loyal followers as her image grows. Anyone who speaks against her is an "enemy" and punished. Speaking up to her would get them killed, so Kane, Abby and others are left to try and endure the world she built in silence.

They know Octavia, not Blodreina, and as one began to be taken over by the other, she no doubt began to become unrecognizable to them. They are not equipped to handle this drastic change - they struggled to connect with her before! What hope do they have to help her when reaching her is difficult even for people far closer to her like Bellamy or even Lincoln?

In this situation, I believe the person best suited to trying to reach her is Indra. Octavia is far closer to her than she is to Kane or Abby as they've had more time and proximity to form a closer bond. They trust each other and have always been able to talk about anything.

We see that Indra remains by her side throughout the years of the Bunker. That doesn't mean she agrees with everything she does, but she remains obedient and supportive anyway. She always shows unwavering loyalty to whoever she follows.

We know Indra secretly goes against her at times as she's also loyal to her friend, Kane. She's caught in between them. She wants to show support for Octavia, the girl she sees as a daughter, but is also willing to break her rules to help her friends.

A telling moment for me is in 5x09 when Octavia finally admits to Indra in her vulnerable state that she "just stood back and watched”. This is her first admission we've seen that she wanted help and possibly assumed Indra (and others) would come to her 'rescue' somehow.

Indra admits she should have helped her "shoulder that burden" and won't make the same mistake again. Though she didn't do much, she didn't do nothing. She was one of the first to eat and publicly stood up and came up with the sacrificial words they'd come to adopt.

Let's go backward to a scene early in S5 I feel is incredibly important to remember. In 5x04, Octavia comes to see Kane after his first fight and this is where the two character's mindsets and deepest emotions are clearly revealed to the audience.

Note that Kane is not angry or judgmental but rather honest, sad, weary and desperate. He acknowledges her strength and ability to unify them during the Dark Year. This doesn't mean he fundamentally approves with what happened, but he understands the tough position she was in.

It's also worth noting that Octavia is more than willing to listen to him and even let him go if he tells the truth. She doesn't see him as guilty and won't kill him for nothing. She does not come into the room cold, frustrated or angry. She's willing to talk and get a real answer.

"We're all guilty." - Kane

He's referring to himself as much as anyone. He too feels guilt, for the Bunker and everything that has ever come before. This can also be a way of letting her know she's not alone in whatever guilt she may feel. They all did things they didn't want to do.

The mention of the Dark Year visibly affects Octavia and she begins to grow angry. Though she came into the room perhaps more as Octavia, Blodreina is beginning to appear more and more as she's being reminded of past trauma.

"You've lost your way, we all have." - Kane

What he says is true, she's lost herself and the society that remains is far from what humanity should be. He laments being silent about this and reminds her  justice is not found in the arena. Nor was it found in the floating he partook in.

"We have a chance to do something better here, we're throwing it away." - Kane

Once again, Kane absolves himself of nothing, believing he, like everyone else, always have the opportunity to change and be better. He's offering the possibility of a second chance for her and for them all.

"Octavia, please, strength without mercy is nothing. But you can end it. You can save us." - Kane

The hopeful thought of such change is enough to bring light back into his eyes, if only for a moment. It doesn't matter what Octavia has done, she alone has the power to undo it all.

"It's not too late." - Kane

His face is exceedingly hopeful. She's their salvation. They can all make it out of this - there's still a chance. Octavia is clearly moved by his words. She remains silent. Her façade swaying until...

"Who stole the medicine, Kane?" - Octavia

She hardens once more. Whatever progress he had made to reach the inner Octavia has been sealed away behind the mask of Blodreina once more. His last plea failed and with it, his hope for the future dies. The girl he knew and loved is gone.

For him, this is the point of no return. It cements to him, once and for all, who she's become. Blodreina is all she shows to others and therefore, that's all she lets anyone see - the only thing he sees too. At this point he'd believe that all that's left. Octavia is lost forever.

They are ideologically at odds once more though he didn't intend to actually dispute her publicly. He simply took Abby's place in the arena to keep her alive. But by holding onto his beliefs and choosing not to fight back under such spotlight, he's automatically 'challenging' her.

"Somehow we allowed justice to become vengeance and vengeance to become sport. And I allowed that - that darkness to rise. But my complicity ends." - Kane

In his last moments, he's holding onto who he is. He's about to die, so might as well go down fighting for what you believe in.

"You are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose." - Octavia

"I already have." - Kane

Octavia grabs a sword and knocks him down, but still, he doesn't stop trying to appeal to her. Note that her belated kill stroke could be indicative of her truly not wanting to kill him here but having to continue to show her strength as Blodreina and continue to implement the laws she put in place.

"Saving our people is about more than keeping them alive. It's not too late." - Kane

He repeats the same words as before. Even at the end, he's still giving her a second chance. But she's in the eye of her followers here and cannot compromise for him. Blodreina cannot show weakness. It's more than clear Kane disagrees with the society they're living in. Though it may be 'functioning' (and nothing in the Bunker would have ever been ideal) he still doesn't fundamentally agree with a society built on violence and death. This naturally makes him a 'traitor' to them.

Knowing this and the kind of person he is, it makes sense he doesn’t want this lifestyle to perpetuate outside the bunker and poison Eden – their last chance for a better future. For Octavia, for everyone. Neither will bend and are therefore forced into a position against each other, whether they would like to be or not.

He believes he has no choice if it means the greater good for humanity and this is what drives him and their conflict throughout the season. His speech dreaming about their future home in 5x08 further solidifies his passion for a peaceful future and why it's his main objective.

I will not go into detail of further events at this time besides saying they both had their reasons, he hates himself for having to make those choices and overall, I just believe the writing was questionable and didn't need to go down that way...

IN CONCLUSION

In conclusion, everyone made mistakes and they're all aware and sorry for that. They're only human. This was also no quick ordeal with immediate doling of judgements, it took years for everyone to fall apart the way they did - years of suffering for all of them. I do believe healing will take place, but it is going to take time. Lack of communication and understanding between them led to problems, but I believe getting the time to talk and really say how they feel/felt will help them forgive each other.

I’m sure if Octavia gets the chance to really say her side – all the things she couldn’t say as herself at the time, it will help them all realize that A. Octavia is still in there, B. she can be saved – if she wants to be saved. This could finally be their second chance. They all shared this traumatic experience together. If anyone can help them, it’s each other. I desperately hope things are allowed to get better and these relationships will heal and even become closer than they were before.

PERSONAL NOTES

I’d like to say that, from a writer’s perspective, I’m not a fan of how this storyline was handled. I think it was largely messy, unnecessarily dramatic and ooc for almost everyone involved. I do not believe that Kane and Abby, a couple that live together everyday, never once got the chance to address the very serious food problem. Of course Abby would try to make him see her side and I do believe in time (especially as hunger sets in) he and others would grudgingly give in. Nor do I believe that Kane and Octavia speaking in 5x04 was the first time they’ve been able to address these issues in 6 years! The scene is excellent in portraying their current mindsets, but it doesn’t make much sense that they never talked before this point. Nor do I believe Indra, in their close proximity everyday, never got to have a serious personal talk with Octavia about any of this. We see that plenty of times during the season itself, it definitely happened before! 

Overall, I’m very disappointed in all of it but blame the writing choices - not the character’s themselves for doing/saying things that’s not within their character to do.

[bandomgay]

My brain to yours pt.1 b.u

Tw: blood,gore,self harm,violence,hallucinations,slight mention of an ed

Au: hey babes this is gonna be my 5th time trying to post this and i want death so bad...however if there is any confusing things or typos or things seem to quickly paced im sorry thats just my brain babey! Enjoy...i guess

Word count: 1,894

It all started when he was about 6 years old, he never spoke ever,not that he couldn't he just wouldn't, his parents were worried about his development,however nothing was ‘wrong', he had a quite developed thinking process for a child, but it wasn't a good one for his age nor was it a normal one,no child should be so terrified of talking to people and being thought lesser of as his voice shook violently while trying to say the easiest of sentences.

he understood people to early into his young life ,he got the memo that everything was too stupid and too hard to understand so he gave up . his mother took him back and forth to hospitals and child psychologists ,his mother scared for what was to come of him could this weirdness she didn't even have a name or diagnosis for develop into something more as he grew? She thought, would he be normal? Would he be like the other children who laughed and giggled at the littlest of things? Would he be happy like them? She had decided to push her concerns into the back of head deciding that maybe he was just awkward it's okay to not fit in hes a fucking 6 year old boy maybe it's not that deep.

he was now in the 3rd grade now and teachers became more and more loud and responsive with their problems, he thought maybe whatever bad stuff they had going on at home they just needed to vent threw aggressiveness and shaking hands and restless mornings,but however it was their screams he didn't care for, he looked them in the eye wondering what he had done wrong, however he didn't care enough to continually think about it, but he realized slowly that couldn't feel anything like the red faced teacher did, he’d envy the poor mannered teachers feelings if he could, just how they could get so angry and fed up with kids who were disgusting and vile and how he never felt that…... he never felt anything at all .Now he was in the 5th grade he had to repeat the 4th grade due to staggeringly low grades and his failed attempts at homework he never seemed to have remembered. Things were getting hard to remember, so hard to remember what the teacher had said in the classroom that seemed to fade away after he was picked up by his mom and the sheer silence of the drive home and his mothers sneaking looks into the mirror with furrowed eyebrows at her son who never told her how his day went.

In school it was just so easy just to drift off in the land of dark swirls and dark worlds filled with make believe that he couldn't separate from the real world that never seemed to go away and darkness he felt comfort in his head till he heard nothing but the disgusting laugh of a teacher who had looked as if she wanted to deck him in the face ( he imagined about 3 different scenarios of how that actually could have occured, he held back a giggle and a sly smirk) as she snapped her wrinkled hands in his face “earth to brendon” he heard the aged feminine voice laced with anger repeat twice but he had failed to tune into the first reminder he was too dissociated to notice, he came too but didn't understand her reasonings of not just leaving him alone and let him rot and break free and he soon heard the fits of laughter coming from children he knew he was too weak to stop.

he wanted to do terrible things to everyone in that very room including himself, a dark desire he couldn't contain from his mind but he never followed through with these type of thoughts. he could never seemed control them he thought of them like messages being sent from an unknown source in the back of his head that had an invisible connection to someone he could see but nobody else could he dared himself if he could just pull at the cord in his head he wouldn't have those those thoughts, the figure never showed up in the same form it could be the shadows of dirty rain water coming from outside showing like a projection on the dingy beat up wall rising above him to claim a mental dominance , or the rotten stain of mold on the bathroom floor that now seemed to have a charming glow yet secretive smile or the bag of dirty clothes that sat high up on its rounded edges now smiled at him and watched him threw the night .

now it was the 7th grade and things had went to shit,it was already shit but it had gotten no better, fits of depression had left him wanting to call a hitman on himself and letting himself be cut open so all the organs in his body to be shot out of him or rip his jaw and everything behind it out of his body but he was too fatigued to think about it anymore his brain seemed to have stopped working back in the 6th grade, he could never think clearly a heavy fog on his brain he could never do much for himself he found the most simple of things he couldn't do, he couldn't pay attention, he felt dizzy at random times becoming feverish and not thinking about why because he couldn't think he thought process lessen and lessened with every passing day until all there were was thoughts of gore and death,sadness and the never ending thought of killing anyone or anything that had managed to make him want death even more.

he just continued to fade in and out of reality staring into the wall for to long or unknowingly staring at the couple of people who he thought was calling him pathetic and worthless with the contradictory voice telling him he's so much better than the disgusting people he saw and that they didn't deserve to smile they don't deserve happiness even though they’d never even spoken a word to him, they were never mean to him. he started pinching,stabbing,pulling at his hair,clawing at himself hard trying to see if he could care that he'd just hurt himself he continued to hurt himself hoping somewhere in the back of his mind he start to feel things, to show him he's real everyone sees him, but his inner self knew what he was doing he wasn't just trying to see if he was a real person he was punishing himself because he couldn't do what the rest of the real kids could do he couldnt plop himeself in a hard metal chair and take a test without thinking about what a disgusting person he was, without hearing them say he wasn't shit that his brain is mush that he couldn't understand the easy directions how he could get so angry and mad without hesitation how he could imagine killing his parents im cold blood… he stomped on his own foot,why is he thinking about this why is he thinking about this why, they creeped back up on him showing him images of his brother and sisters dead and gutted his parents choking on blood and vomit pale and dying, he hated himself for thinking these things,but if it was possible for him to be completely honest with himself he didn't care if they had died or not he just didn't have the ability to care.

He couldn't look people in the face without seeing these images of grewling faces pushed together in piles of pink and red flesh crawling into each others organs which looked rotten and distorted, why was he seeing this things these disgusting things these things… he wouldn't admit to himself that everytime he looked in the mirror he tried not to vomit he tried to hard, he bashed in the mirror bloodlying his hand, his hiss echoing in the empty bathroom he couldn't go to the nurse he couldn't look her in the eye and see her like that, besides he was on the first floor and he was too weak to go all the way to the fourth floor he knew he would pass out, he felt something pooling in his stomach it was anxiety he felt the cramping in his stomach and the salivating in his dry mouth, he vomited into the sink, he hasn't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so the pain of dry heaving for almost half in hour into the sink made him dizzy and ultimately pass out. he had now awoken to bright lights that made him nauseous and whimper, he was in the hospital again. he tried so hard not look the nurses and doctors in the eye and seeing horrific images in his mind of them dead, rotten maggot filled and bloody be he regained his ability to see the normally after a while.

“Brendon honey…” his mommy's voice was there “mommy...hi mommy” he said in a broken whisper. She had realized he never calls her mommy unless something's wrong he wasn't aware that he was, he turned to the right finding an iv carefully placed into in scarily pale arm “honey...they found you in the bathroom your hand was cut up...you where passed out what...t?” she silenced herself for a moment seconds later starting up again. “They found you in the bathroom..the mirror was broken and your hand was cut pretty deep and passed out” he mouth trembled a bit, she moved his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, he felt wetness on his skin his own uniform shirt clinging to his skin he was sweating.

He didn't feel real he didn't respond properly to what she had said he only looked away.. And said “dizzy….everything hurts…” he was so surprised he felt something but if feeling was like this he didn't want it. “I d..don't wanna feel like this..can you make it stop mommy please?!” Nani was absolutely terrified she'd never been so scared for her little boy, “its gonna be okay,sweetie...i swear..to god i swear…” in this moment if she was honest she didn't believe there was a god, no god would do this to her son, she turned around after hearing the door and hard footsteps.

“Hello ms. Urie im dr. Yakima, i will be assisting and diagnosing your son” she nodded softly wanting her son to be okay. “Hey son,open your eyes for me,i'm here to help” brendon heard a much more distorted version of what the doctor had said than nani did, but then again he was fading in and out. He handed her pills and said firmly “these are anti-nausea and pain killers i'm gonna give these to him and he will feel much much better i promise..” He was right it with his cocked up eyebrow and charming smile that sparkled with calmness and reassurance that worked its way into nani. the medication  worked but not instantly. “Sit up honey..” She said softly, he followed what she said slowly with a wrecked groan and intense muscle pain however there was no rush.

[wlwhc]

Alone - Lena Luthor Drabble

Requested by Anonimous:  Being Lex Luthor’s crazy or just very violent best friend and Lena trying to bring you back to sanity imagine????

Warning:   dementia? Idk , you’re crazy here

Words:  1369

(A/N):  This sucks, also, I don’t know how to put “read more” on phone texts :( sorry

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“we could be on my house, watching Disney movies, but we have to stay here because you tried to choke the life out of my assistant” Lena said, giving you a scolding gaze, but somehow her eyes were holding a mix of sadness. You were getting better, until today. What it seems to have triggered your anger was yet to known.

A few would say that Lena was taking care of you just because she couldn’t take care of her brother Lex. Pick up another crazy head from the bag just because she lost her last one. The same people that say that are the ones that think Lena is just like any other Luthor, a villain. Which sadly, at least for you, she is not. She’s far from being her brother, she’s like the white sheep surrounded by black ones.

Even though Lex could be seen as Psychotic, you’re more like …violent, you do not like to put a name to your flaws ,you’re just …you. Yeah maybe you get a little out of hand when someone bothers you, maybe you’re not as smart as Lex neither charming, but you were strong and fast and with a perturbing fascination for blood, and a very unstable control of your emotions.

Lena had talked to you about your…”problem”. And while Lex had always encouraged you to be who you are without being ashamed of it, Lena wants you to change by taking pills, and talking with doctors all over the globe.

It is weird. Your relationship with Lex was strict as best friends, no more than that. But Lena makes you feel almost as if you were part of her…family. You feel loved and that’s something you had never felt before.

Your friendship with the Older Luthor has not appeared out of thin air, he was struggling with his father, and you were struggling with yours, one thing got to another and after he helped you patch yourself up, you were sleeping on his lab. But it was nothing more than that, it was more like a protective relationship, you took care of him and he would take care of you.

But with Lena is different. She didn’t need you to be safe, she didn’t ask you for anything, she just wrapped you up in a blanket and took you to her home like a stray kitten. It took you years to hug Lex, and Lena had somehow cuddle you the first night. Her affection was making you sick, but you couldn’t seem to walk away from her when she calls you, or to just simply talk about her day.

Her constant presence around you had become almost like another part of your body, and when she wasn’t around you, it was like losing a limb. Her assistant had tried to keep you away from her for the past week, and even though you could have killed her, you didn’t. Lena wanted you to be “okay”, then you will try to be “Okay” if that makes her happy. But today she had stepped over the limit, and in a blink of an eye, you were resting your pretty little hand on her tiny neck.

“… she was being rude, she had it coming!” You said, protesting like a child. Lena already knew that it was hard for you to say sorry, you’re way too stubborn for that.

“she just looked at you Y/N-”

“I know that kind of look Lena, She was annoying! so I-Lex would’ve agreed with my desition of-”

“kill her?” Lena interrupts you. Her words cold, but the chill air never hit your face, it was being sent towards the wall instead. You looked at her, she looked so tired, the last thing that you wanted to be was a burden. She turns her gaze to you, her eyes scanning you, like searching for something.

“I noticed that you haven’t been taking your meds…” Oh, like I said. You’re not as smart as Lex, so when Lena gave you the so-called miracle meds, you just throw them in the sink.

“they make me feel funny..like in a bad way” You didn’t know what the hell those pills had but it makes you feel like you’re about to pass out. Maybe if you talk with Lena about you she would find another medicine that would not make you feel bad…but you’re not going to bother her.

“you have to take them if you want to get better” Lena said, sitting by your side. Her hand flew to your knee, her eyes searching for yours but you knew that if you catch a glance of those piercing blue eyes, then you would lose the little ounce of sanity you have left.

“I’m okay-” You mumbled.

“You’re not okay-” You didn’t know what the hell just blow off in your mind but your oh so calm state had turned into an aggressive one in a second.

“I’m okay! you’re the one that is shoving pills down my throat and making me go crazy by taking me to those stupid doctors!” You shout. Luckily Lena knows how to calm you down, or at least how to proceed in case that you get out of control. She slowly walks to your angry figure, her voice is soft and if you would pay attention to it you would have noticed the little drops of fear.

“Y/N, breath-” Lena is now just a few feets away from you, her eyes threatening to spill a few tears when she sees you hit your head with your hands. It’s so frustrating, why are you angry in the first place? she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, why are you screaming at her?!

 “no! I want to go to my lab-I should-I hmm no I-Lex is waiting for me!” You struggle to formulate a few words when your throat seems to drown in sobs. Why are you crying? you have no idea. Your head wasn’t helping either, it seems like your mouth was spitting words without your consent.

“Y/N calm down-” Lena tried to slowly grabbed your hands, it hurt her to see you like this, she was more used to see you scream in anger, sometimes she would find you crying in the nights after a nightmare, but she had never seen you so heartbroken.

“I want to go with him! H-He’s alone in that cell-” You said. Lena’s hand grabbing yours, trying to stop you from hurting yourself further.

“Y/N-”

“I don’t want him to be alone I d-don’t-I don’t want to be alone” Lena’s heart broke a little when you spat those words. Not just because she would have the same fear sometimes, but because she was standing right in front of you, you are not alone, you have her!

“oh dear…you’re not alone, you have me-” Lena said, wrapping you in her arms, feeling your tears on her shoulder.

“she didn’t let me see you a-and I-I wanted to see yo-Why she didn’t let me see you?!” You said, not being able to stop crying.

“I was in an important meeting, she was just doing her job…I’ll talk to her okay? but you need to calm down first” Lena said, holding you even closer to her, her hand caressing your back. It took you a few minutes and a lot of work from Lena to calm you down, but you did. You walk away from Lena’s embrace, wiping your tears away.

“I’m sorry” You said, your eyes focused on the floor, not daring to look at her. Lena, on the other hand, is smiling. This time it didn’t take you long to say sorry, and even if you didn’t take it as something big, for her, it is.  Lena walks to you, and grabs your hand, and with a soft squeeze, she starts leading you to the door.

“It’s okay…let’s go home shall we?, we have a lot of Disney movies waiting for us”

[jack-jupiter]

As a gay man, there are so many parts of my life that were unwitnessed, and thusly feel unreal. When no one touches a memory, it starts to become a dream, it scatters and it fogs. The context that was meant to assemble the memory and hold it together just isn’t there, missing, just like the love and support that wasn’t there. When I was a child, I felt unreal. I would wander passed mirrors and “remember” what I even looked like. I didn’t know I was suffering from chronic emotional neglect, but I did feel like one of those dreams. Scattered. Hazy. Without context. But, I remember the first man that made me feel real. He wasn’t the first man to give me a rainbow, but he was the first person that made me feel like one, like I was full of colors, and that my body housed something remarkable... and lovable. I was seventeen years old, and for my senior project I had decided to volunteer at my local naval museum. I thought since the naval museum was close, I could create something simple, get a good grade, and wipe my hands clean of the whole affair -- clearly underestimating how utterly boring naval history is. (I would later switch subjects.) But on lightning-bolt impulse, I strolled to the museum and volunteered. The elderly caretakers were happy to put me to use and benefit from my youthful energy, so they sent me to work with the maintenance man, whom I’d be working under for the duration to get my hours. I imagined he’d be similar to the other caretakers: old, crotchety, exploitable -- but I was wrong. I confess, I don’t remember any of the museum’s exhibits, any of the displays beneath glass, the floors of naval history memorabilia, and I barely remember the grand ballroom and their labyrinthine kitchens. But I remember the ramp to the maintenance room, and the man waiting inside. Paul was twenty-five years old, six foot tall, and he had instantly made up his mind about me. I was a young layabout with sawdust between my ears, but he treated me with a dignified manner, like how aristocracy treats an underling. Paul was arrogant, and he got great globs of validation for being the young handsome handyman around the museum, so he was quite formidable.  You could tell by the way he walked. His walk was dignified, but also hunched forward a little. He was worshiped by the other caretakers, but Paul was eager to continually prove himself, was deathly afraid of failure, and was constantly seeking to renew his honorary title as maintenance monarch. He was very prideful, and I wanted nothing more than to burst his bubble, to topple his composure, and to expose him for what he was. It was very aggressive-- but it was aggression born from infatuation. When he would drag me into the attic, and bend over to fix frayed wires, I would inspect him very... very closely. I found him to be the pinnacle of physical perfection. I loved his foxy waves of brown hair, the regal shape of his profile -- as if he belonged on a coin -- and his solid manly build; but rather than show the smallest sliver of admiration for the man, I created power struggles. To be fair, he was no better. He was cutting and sarcastic. He would continually condescend. He always seemed exasperated to see me, but would bore me with his tales of accomplishment and heroism: like rebuilding bits of the roofing himself, building chairs from scratch, singlehandedly protecting the museum from the ominous “council”, and being the building’s best cook. But I continually challenged him to battles of wit. I bombarded him with riddles. I would charm him but go cold to lead him astray. When I was hungry, he would grumble and go into the kitchens to cook for me, but I always withdrew the praise he wanted, even when the food was immaculate. And it was working. Whenever I appeared into the museum after school, I would drop my bookbag and find him waiting in the maintenance room with nicer and nicer clothes, with grander and grander stories. By now he had come to respect my intelligence, so our verbal sparring matches got sharper and sharper. He was stubborn and I was willful. I would withhold and he would try even harder, until finally one day he proved a point by showing me one of his books, and then yet another.  I would show up to volunteer and he’d be waiting with books for me to read. (I never read them-- at first.) He was a graduate student, a History major, so he wasn’t just filled with his own stories, he was literally filled with stories. When I eventually showed interest I noticed something had turned in him. My approval was giving him a sense of pride.  I began to anticipate driving to the museum. Paul would be waiting with music for me to hear, wild experiments he wanted to show me, projects he was working on. He became warmer. He started cooking for me without being asked. I even began to thank him. He would confide in me the woes of graduate school. He would pine about the pressure. I would support him. Eventually he held me in high esteem. We would wander the museum as a pair, fixing light bulbs, moving heavy furniture, and all the while he would pour his stories into me, with which I would respond with curiosity and wit. “I would try to tell the others, but none of them are as smart as you,” he would casually say. I confess, it made my heart swell whenever he complimented me. Eventually I came to know his secret world. Paul taught me about mental illness. He was struggling with mood disorders and he would show me the cocktail of pills he would take a day, telling me how they altered his moods, or sometimes made them worse. For the first time I felt powerless, and I learned about the power of restraint. I let him know I cared about him, that I wanted him to be happy... and he was glad. To my delight, he began bringing over scifi books, his real treasures, and tell me tales of futuristic military heroes fighting for their lives in compounds full of mutant badgers. I loved seeing this side of him, so I drew Paul in the futuristic military gear, fighting off the mutant badgers of his books with torrents of lasers. He hung it on his wall. Everyone in the museum knew that I loved him. All the caretakers knew that we were inseparable, that we couldn’t wait to see each other. But what he felt? I did not know, and I truly didn’t care. I was so starved of love that I was content with what I had: a close platonic friendship; until the first day he told me he found men attractive. “I mean, I’ve never dated one,” he told me, “but why can’t one man find another man attractive?” I didn’t skip a beat and said something witty in agreement, a perfect balance of affirmation and teasing, but on the inside, birds were flying around in my stomach. Would I finally be able to caress that solid waist of his? Was I being granted permission to take his hand in mine? To stare into his eyes for a second longer than men were allowed? That second that would telepathically transmit all of my repressed longing? Was this an invitation? And sometimes, that invitation felt real. But he was much too dignified, and I was also too proud to let him see that he had any power over me. A part of me felt like he didn’t deserve that power, and another part of me wanted to surrender and believe in him. I wanted to believe that he would treat me gently. I wanted to believe that I could dance in his arms. That I wouldn’t have to choose between loving myself and connecting with him, like so many people had made me choose. I wanted to believe that he was safe, that he would put me above his pride. But when I admitted that I was gay, he spoke about me as if I wasn’t like him, as if I was an entirely different creature. Why couldn’t we be kin? Why didn’t this bring us closer together? Why didn’t this coil golden wreaths around our bond? He didn’t reject me or anything... but it wasn’t enough. I was hurt but I wouldn’t admit it, externally or internally. I made it unreal and carried on with our relationship. I started dreaming. In the end, I gave up on the dry monotony of naval history, and did my senior project on nudity and censorship in museums. Paul helped me select and print large scale neoclassical paintings, and I was bittersweetly pleased. I got an A on the assignment, even though I cheated in several ways, but even after the project was over, I still would wander over to the museum. I’d enter the double doors, smile at the caretakers, and they’d tell me Paul was in the back. When he saw me, he’d smile, and I’d follow him around the building, taking down chairs or playing with circuit boards. He was so warm, so beautiful, so smart and playful, in his own dignified way. I loved him so much, and I continued to love him through the years, even though I visited infrequently. Soon it was weeks between visits, and then months, until finally a whole year had gone by since I had seen Paul. I had tried my own romantic excursions, but they all proved to be failures, and one day, when I was searching for some sense of warmth and familiarity, I walked back up the ramp to the maintenance room. Paul was waiting, and when he saw me he smiled. He was still handsome. He was still warm. He was still proud. And he still had my picture above the toolboxes. And... he was getting married. I masked how far my stomach sank through my shoes, and I asked witty and insightful questions about her. She seemed nice. But when it was quiet, I could tell he was looking at me with regret. I could have been imagining it. Perhaps I was lovesick and throwing rosewood over an unvarnished picture. But he looked... sad... and he asked if I wanted to hang out, at his place. I said yes. We went grocery shopping together, and when we got to his apartment he cooked us dinner. We came out the closet to each other in a different way. We admitted to each other that we both practiced magic. It made me love him even more to see him condescend and lord over me with his stories, his attempts to establish himself as the most powerful and resourceful of the two of us. I mean, he was probably right. And then, he pulled out the Jameson, and the night blurred. I remember spending a lot of time on his balcony, feeling the cool breeze over my constricted blood vessels, while he poured his stories into me, just like the old days. I was less willful this time around. I had learned to really listen, and I’d learned to respond with something more than precocity and wit. I had learned how to respond with empathy. Paul was afraid to get married, and I comforted him. I listened to his stories and let him pour into me because I loved him. And then, when I had allayed his doubts, he calmed down and just... looked at me. And as I counted the seconds, Paul stared for a second longer, that powerful second longer, and I knew the secret of his longing. When he drew close to me, it was the most frightened and boyish that I’d ever seen him. He was floating closer to me even though he was frightened, and he softly, so very softly, kissed my lips. Both our lips were chapped from all the liquor, but it was still so soft. I wish I could say that I felt wonderful-- and I will admit, that kiss was wonderful-- but to be honest, I was trembling inside. I was trying to escape. And it wasn’t because he was engaged, or because I didn’t believe the sincerity of his kiss. It was because no one had kissed me in a way that made me feel real. I had been woken from the denial of my own self. I was a living being, worthy of a kiss from Paul, the man I had loved since I was seventeen. But I escaped. I was overwhelmed by his attention. I was too acclimatized to neglect. So when he withdrew and looked at me, I just smiled at him, and nothing more. We continued talking like nothing had happened, but the regret had returned to his eyes. So we drank more, and then yet more. I have never been more drunk than that night, to this day. Paul passed out on the floor in the hallway, but I’d fallen asleep on the couch, forehead pounding, vision spinning-- and then his fiance came home. She woke Paul up and nursed us to health, and even let me sleep over... but I knew she knew. Back at the museum, Paul had asked for my address to send me an invitation to the wedding. We were coordinating. But after that night, I never got my invitation. I was never invited to the wedding. And maybe that was for the best. She deserved better than that. And I, too, deserved to have my heart break silently, in the comfort of my own home, without vows and rice, and feigned celebration. But I never truly let my heart break. What I did was dream, because there was no one there for me, to witness me. And without that love and support, without mature eyes to mirror and validate my hurt and shame... and joy... those events, those memories, like so many years of my life, became unreal, and faded into dreams. The memories were forgotten by the mind, and stored in the body, along with every other man who ever tried to make me real.

[aint-ashes]

Let’s Talk About Eugene: Chapter 7 (Part B)

So, I’m actually glad that I didn’t get around to writing Part B before last night’s episode, because it did a lot to help contextualize not only Eugene’s actions as a Savior, but also Negan’s system of operations at the Sanctuary. (But does anyone even read these?)

In this chapter, I continue on with Eugene’s scenes in 7x11, ‘Hostiles and Calamities’, and finish off his reasons for ‘becoming’ Negan. Let’s get to it!

SCENE: EUGENE CUTS IN LINE

When we left off in Part A, Eugene had just agreed to make Amber her suicide pills. It was an emotional moment, Eugene being stuck between his identities (believing he’s not good) and being upset for Amber. But he ultimately made the decision to be good and to help someone in need.

All things considered, this is actually recklessly good. Amber is considered to be Negan’s ‘property’, as long as she ‘chooses’ to be his wife. In assisting Amber’s suicide, Eugene is essentially signing up to rob Negan of a resource that he values. A lot. We already saw what he did to Amber’s boyfriend—disloyalty will not stand with Negan.

I imagine he’d consider it disloyal of Amber to kill herself just to get away from him, but doubly disloyal for someone at the Sanctuary to make her suicide possible. The consequences would be severe, and after this scene, it wouldn’t be hard to trace it back to Eugene. But the fact that none of this seems to cross his mind tells us something about him: that his priorities are still in other people. Eugene doesn’t raid this poor worker’s booth, doesn’t cook up some cyanide or whatever for his own survival. No, it’s for someone else. It’s always for someone else.

This scene is also where Eugene goes full-on Savior for the first time.

He tests the waters by cutting ahead of several people in line and waiting for an opening in the conversation between workers to politely ask for cold-capsules. This isn’t Savior-like, and it doesn’t work.

He allows himself to be heckled and bossed around by the worker, then turns around to rejoin the end of the line as she told him. That’s when he realizes that there’s an easy way out of this. You want something, you take it. He can use the position that he has, up until now, felt guilty for possessing over these workers—and for the first time, he does.

Eugene is no stranger to wearing masks. He turns around and plays the part that Negan gave him: authority.

“All right, number 16. My name is Dr. Eugene Porter. I’ve recently been appointed to the newly created post of Chief Engineer of this facility. I report directly to Negan, which means you report directly to my ass. The cold capsules. Now.”  

Eugene shows no sympathy for the woman, and behaves aggressively towards her, grabbing the notebook from her hands and tossing it back onto the table. He doesn’t just take what he needs ahead of everyone else in line, he takes more than what he needs, including an entire basket of what looked like medical supplies. For the first time, Eugene exercises (and perhaps abuses) his power over someone else.  

I nearly put this as one of the reasons that Eugene became Negan, but I honestly think it’s just a by-product of having purpose. If Eugene were offered a position of authority at the Sanctuary without the guarantee of safety, it wouldn’t interest him at all. That’s not really what he’s after; it’s just a perk of being valued.

That being said, a lot of people think that the power he holds at the Sanctuary is going to Eugene’s head. By the end of season 7, I agreed somewhat with that, but not in the same way as it was often meant. I was worried, by 7x16, that Eugene had become too comfortable in his position, and felt too safe around Negan. I’ve changed my mind after last night’s episode (8x05), but never felt that he sticks around as a Savior because he has the power to be bossy.

Having power at the Sanctuary means Negan values you—a good thing. He’ll keep you safe because he needs you. But it also means you have no anonymity. If Negan values you, it also means he expects things of you. And if you don’t measure up, the consequences are lethal. And as we saw last night, Eugene’s power cannot protect him from the man who gave it to him.

In the next chapter, we’ll see Eugene valuing his power for the opportunities it gives him to protect people. He doesn’t value it for the opportunity to step all over those less fortunate than he is—that’s a common misconception. It’s possible, I guess, that power could have been a reason for him becoming Negan to the extent that he thought he might be able to use it to protect people, but I really don’t think so. Eugene couldn’t have foreseen Rick and the others rising up (Rick himself admitted that there was no way out of the deal), and honestly, I just don’t think he was thinking of anyone but himself and his own fear when he became Negan.

A reason for becoming Negan that I can take out of this scene is that the Sanctuary is well-stocked. Eugene has easy access to anything he could need at any time, and that’s a benefit given to him by his position.

But the most important thing about this scene is how contradictory his actions are. Eugene basically robbed everyone in the line of anything they might need out of that basket, just because he could. Because he was asserting his position. Those people are all workers; they’re in need, and even more so now that Eugene has had something to say about it.

But at the same time, he was forced to adopt this personality in the first place because he needed materials quickly and before they ran out…for the purpose of helping someone else. It was not for him, which is in and of itself very un-Savior-like. Caring about someone else doesn’t fit with the personality that he just adopted.

Because we don’t see Eugene behaving the way he did in this scene again, I’m willing to bet the cold capsules incident was a one-time thing. It gave him an identity that got him what he wanted, but he doesn’t flaunt this authority without reason, the way we’ve seen Simon and Dwight do. The Savior mask is exactly that—a mask. He doesn’t become Savior-like.

SCENE: NEGAN KILLS DR. CARSON

The Savior persona doesn’t stick. Eugene is just starting to get used to life at the Sanctuary when Laura drags him to the factory floor for the ironing ceremony.  Suddenly, he’s the odd man out again. The only one who doesn’t know what’s happening. The only one who has to be told to kneel when Negan walks into the room. It’s a humbling experience, just in case he was starting to get too comfortable here.

This entire scene is theatrical. It has carefully timed teases and plot twists, and is in every way a performance by Negan. And it’s a performance put on specifically for two pairs of eyes: Dwight and Eugene.

Before it begins, Negan locks eyes with Eugene and says, “You are going to want to pay close attention to this.”

So, basically: this could be you, if you’re not careful.

He turns on a dime and swings Lucille at Dr. Carson’s arm. Just like that, Eugene is cowering. This is the last time Eugene will see Negan before Negan pops him the “who are you?” This isn’t a coincidence. Everything Negan does is calculated. Everything is for a reason.  

Eugene has been treated royally at the Sanctuary. He’s had the freedom and comfort of his own room, as well as free reign of the rest of the compound, honorary status and perks that he’s even had the chance to take advantage of. That’s enough mending—now, Eugene needs to be reminded that he is only as safe as Negan says he is. Eugene’s fear is useful to Negan, in good measure. He wants him comfortable enough to think clearly, and scared enough to do it on command, no questions asked.

The perfect way to do it is to kill someone in front of him. Bonus points for Dr. Carson being very similar to Eugene—each of them is provided for, valued by Negan, and has an important role in the functionality of the Sanctuary. But none of that could save Dr. Carson from the crimes of which he was accused.

There’s something particularly eerie about the fact that Negan stares and smiles at Eugene just before throwing Dr. Carson into the flames. As if making Eugene a part of it. As though saying, “Watch this. This is for you to see.”

Eugene is horrified, of course. Everything about the performance was unpredictable—Carson didn’t even know he was in trouble when he arrived, and minutes later, he was dead. When threatened, he did exactly as Negan told him, and still wound up dead.  The only predictable reason that Eugene can take away comes when Negan makes eye contact with him for the last time and says: “Good thing we have a spare Dr. Carson.”

It’s a warning: Do not test Negan’s need for you. Do not be replaceable.

SCENE: EUGENE DENIES FRANKIE AND TANYA THE PILLS

Somewhere between agreeing to make the pills and Frankie and Tanya’s next visit, Eugene realizes that he’s been taken advantage of. My bet is that he noticed their behavior when Negan killed Carson—particularly Tanya, who stormed angrily out of the room before anyone was excused.

Another possibility that I humored for a while was that Eugene perhaps knew Frankie and Tanya’s true intentions from the beginning, and agreed to help anyway. But it was a short-lived theory; it doesn’t add up in Eugene’s storyline, nor does it align with his character.

Eugene has been coerced into aiding an assassination attempt on Negan before. It went down in the worst possible way, not just with himself being captured, but with Olivia dying for it. He would likely never humor that possibility again—remember, Eugene can’t stand to see another person hurt or killed. And now, in the mouth of the lion, the consequences of killing Negan are sure to be nothing but bad.

Not to mention, Eugene was emotionally stunted by Amber’s mental state when he was asked to make the pills. The reasons they gave him for needing the poison outwardly threw him, so it’s not a stretch that he wouldn’t have considered they were lying…and, let’s be honest, if Eugene knew their real intentions, he wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to brag about that deduction as soon as possible. Rather, he was clouded by his own internal dilemma and thoughts of Abraham and Glenn. He was vulnerable, and felt an insuppressible urge to be good. To help.

Which is why, when he realized that he’d been deceived, it had to have hurt. It’s the lesson from that very first reason, drilled into his mind: there is no room for good in Negan’s world.

And he didn’t even believe that he was good, but his willingness to help the wives tells us that there was still a piece of him that wanted to be. That was. That certainly believed Frankie, Tanya, and Amber were—but for as much as it may have meant to Eugene that he was doing something good, it turned out to be a trick.

Frankie said, “You have to be [good],” but what Eugene has learned is that he cannot be. And he cannot trust. Not if he wants to survive.

And, hey, maybe helping the wives kill Negan is the ‘good’ thing to do—but it doesn’t matter, because good gets you killed. Sitting up taller gets your skull bashed in. Setting a tortured prisoner free (or being accused of such) gets you thrown in a furnace. Being a bystander at the wrong time in the wrong place gets you a bullet through the head. Good doesn’t survive. And Eugene wants to survive.

So when Tanya and Frankie look at him, disgusted, and say, “You’re a coward,” Eugene wears the most bittersweet smile and answers: “That is a correct assessment.”

This is the first time he has said it out loud since he walked into the warehouse with Tara, Glenn, Noah, Nicholas, and Aiden in season 5. He walked out of that warehouse having saved Tara’s life, having saved Glenn and Nicholas’s lives, having tried to save Aiden and Noah’s. He walked out of that warehouse believing, for the first time, that he didn’t have to be a coward—and he never looked back.

He has struggled with believing himself a coward since Abraham and Glenn died, but has up until now, either feebly defended himself or broken into tears at the notion. Now, he smiles, as though he is at peace with his personal failure—and Eugene gives himself up.

SCENE: I’M NEGAN

This scene opens with Eugene eating a pickle from the thus-unopened jar in his room. Eugene was forced to take the pickles in the first place, despite not wanting to have any part in the unjust system of hungry workers and power-hungry superiors that keeps the Sanctuary on its feet. The fact that he hadn’t touched the pickles, even once they were in his possession, has been symbolic of Eugene hanging on to who he is, staying true to the person who didn’t want to make trouble for anyone.

That he finally breaks into the jar tells us that he has given himself to the system that he never wanted to join. He’s not hanging on to any part of himself except whatever will keep him alive. Eugene has surrendered all hope of himself being good, being brave, being anything he’d ever wanted to be. Instead, he’ll be alive. Anything to stay alive.

But can he live with who that will make him?

When Negan comes knocking on Eugene’s door, tactfully swinging Lucille near his face, Eugene is terrified. Not only did this man kill several of his friends, but he also just watched him throw a man in a furnace like a jump scare. That’s not the kind of image that’ll leave your mind quickly. Eugene fears him; his breathing is shaky, and he’s practically cowering before Negan.

But Negan says: “You do not need to be scared anymore.”

The relief (and disbelief) that washes over Eugene’s face fills his eyes with tears. He continues to cry, to shudder, but it’s not in fear anymore. In this moment, Eugene finally has permission to let go of an enormous burden on his shoulders: the fear he has carried with him since the line-up. And this is where we come back to reason number four:

4.    Becoming Negan offers Eugene a way to escape his cowardice.

Second to death, Eugene is most afraid of his own inadequacy. The quality that he hates the most in himself is his cowardice. And in Negan’s world, fear is at the forefront of his mind every second of every day, because death and Eugene’s imminent inadequacy are a constant threat.

And to feel constant fear is to be constantly reminded of his own cowardice.

If he has nothing to fear, then he has nothing to be cowardly about. Negan is offering Eugene sanctuary from fear itself. From the feeling that reminds him of who he can’t stand to be.  From the very quality that he hates most in himself. If Eugene doesn’t have to be afraid, then he never has to be cowardly. He doesn’t have to embody the worst of himself.

And he doesn’t have to cope with himself.

This is the offer that seals the deal. Because above everything, Eugene’s skin crawls to live with himself being a coward, being a sham, someone who never deserved Abraham’s love, help, or acknowledgement. He’s been finding it hard to live with himself, and has been offered no help—not here, not in Alexandria—until now. Now, he doesn’t have to.

So when Negan asks, “who are you?” Eugene answers with embarrassing speed: “I’m Negan. I’m utterly, completely, stone-cold Negan.”

And he considers himself, both the brave Eugene and the cowardly, gone. He doesn’t bear the burden of himself anymore—he is Negan.

SCENE: WE ARE NEGAN

In the final scene of the episode, Eugene is the embodiment of his Savior identity. He is no longer dressed in his normal boots and rolled-up cargo pants, but sporting black from the head down. He’s eating a pickle—a symbol of his surrendered identity—and carries the Gremblygunk in his pocket—a token of his first Savior-like action. (Also a security blanket, Josh McDermitt says J). He is barking orders at workers from above, using his position of authority.

When Dwight stands beside him, and Eugene says, “We are Negan,” Dwight’s “yeah” comes off as disappointed. Reluctant. Side-by-side, you have one man who has just given himself up, and another who is fighting to win himself back. And yet they both share the name and the burden of ‘Negan’.

The following are not reasons that Eugene ‘became’ Negan (but a lot of people seem to think they are):

1.    He is out to betray the family.

This is the laziest and most nonsensical accusation I’ve seen against Eugene. He gave himself up to protect the family; that’s why he’s at the Sanctuary now. He cares about them. He has no reason to betray them.

If anything, Eugene doesn’t see, or won’t let himself see the connection between his personal contributions at the Sanctuary and the harm that they may cause to his friends. I’ll talk more about this in the next chapter, when Sasha reappears in his life.

(Also, consider that he warns Rosita and Sasha to leave because “people gotta be en route” to find them, rather than turning them in. Consider that he asks special favors of Negan that allow him to have first contact with his family to try and save their lives. More on that, next chapter.)

2.    He thinks Negan is better than Rick.

See “SCENE: DR. SMARTYPANTS” in Chapter 7, Part A.

3.    He is power-hungry.

See “SCENE: EUGENE CUTS IN LINE”, above.

4.    He plans to be a double agent.

I don’t believe Eugene became Negan to bring the Saviors down from the inside, for every reason that I’ve listed in the last two chapters, plus his reaction to Sasha and Rosita trying to rescue him in 7x14. When Sasha shoots the Savior beside Eugene, he is reduced to fear once again. And confliction—he appears almost heartbroken to tell them he’s not going with them.

But he wasn’t expecting to have to make such a decision, and his decision is based entirely in fear. It was not logical, it was not clear-headed, it was instinctual. Had he been planning to be a double agent, his reaction would have been far less emotional.

However! His becoming Negan did set him up perfectly to do just this, should he have a change of heart. And he will have a change of heart. The stage is already set.

I cannot believe I finally got through this episode, and I can tell you I never expected it to be this long. I don’t know why, though, seeing as I made 4,000 words out of three minutes of screentime in Chapter 6. What the hell.

Next chapter will cover 7x15 and 7x16, the extent of Eugene’s Saviorhood, and the balance of his loyalties. Stay tuned, as always! 

[remembertae]

Brockmire “Road Trip”

(Photo: IFC)

S1 E6, May 3, 2017

WRITTEN BY: Amanda Sitko

SYNOPSIS

Minor League baseball team owner Jules James and her not-so-serious boyfriend/ballpark announcer Jim Brockmire are hanging out at the small town bar she owns. She can’t believe that after so many years of taking great care to not get pregnant, she is now knocked up. Fetus father Brockmire is ready to fork over cash for an abortion, but Jules isn’t sure that’s what she wants He fully acknowledges the choice is hers, but asks for some odds. She says she’s 60/40 in favor of having the baby, which surprises him. She asks him to seriously consider whether or not he could be a dad.

While playing a game of catch with his teenage assistant Charles, Brockmire asks the young man, “You think I’d be a good father?” Charles quickly responds, “You would be a terrible father, don’t do that.” Meanwhile at the bar, Jules quietly asks the (unnamed) bartender if she’s ever had an abortion. The young lady responds that she has, and relates a rather frank and disturbing story about having to travel long-distance to Pittsburgh for the procedure, where she encountered violent protesters; however, she asserts that she regrets nothing. Jules reveals she is pregnant, but when she starts getting into personal details, the bartender encourages her to call a friend instead.

Jules later visits her friend Diana, a mother of three. Diana is excited for Jules’s pregnancy, telling her this is her “sign” that she’s ready to let go of the past and settle down. When Diana’s youngest wakes up crying, mom encourages an uncomfortable Jules to hold the baby.

We then see Brockmire seeking more advice from baseball player/father-of-thirteen Pedro Uribe, who speaks glowingly of fatherhood. When Brockmire sees Jules later, he’s excited about the prospect of raising a kid. But when Jules tells him she definitely wants an abortion, he heaves a sigh of relief and thanks God. The two make plans to visit a clinic in Pittsburgh.

Jules and Brockmire meet with an abortion provider, who is put off by their relentless snarky joking. When the doctor explains that Jules qualifies for a medical abortion, she bristles at the thought of swallowing a pill and asks if she can snort it instead. The doctor tells her to please refrain from making cocaine references in his presence. He asks her to ingest the mifepristone right away and the misoprostol later. When she takes the first pill, much slapstick-y gagging ensues, but she does eventually swallow it.

Later at the hotel, Jules and Brockmire are ready to “pre-game” her abortion. While she mixes drinks in the bathroom, he snorts a couple lines of what he assumes to be coke but, alas, he has unwittingly snorted her misoprostol. They meet with the frustrated doctor again. He imagines Brockmire might experience some of the same symptoms Jules will experience when she aborts, but can’t say for sure since this hasn’t happened before. He gives Jules another pill, and again she gags multiple times before actually swallowing it.

The next morning, Brockmire and Jules lie in bed, both wrecked from a rough night of medical abortion symptoms but otherwise relieved. She thanks him for being so thoroughly supportive throughout her brief pregnancy. She says she wants something positive to come out of this situation. Later we see that they’ve invited all thirteen of Uribe’s children to town so they can see their father during baseball season.

KEEPING IT REAL QUOTIENT

I don’t care much for this show, but there’s a lot to love about this abortion episode. For starters, I really dig Jules and Brockmire’s dynamic throughout the story. This is how I imagine pro-choice grown-ups dealing with an unplanned yet not entirely unwelcome pregnancy. Though not necessarily a maternal figure, it makes sense that Jules — an entrepreneur who’s aggressively promoting this sleepy small town’s baseball team — could see herself tackling motherhood with that same gusto. But in the end, even after holding her friend’s “cute little fat angel baby,” she just didn’t feel it. Brockmire does everything he can to support her, and in just the right way. When she tells him she’s leaning toward keeping the baby, he replies in his typical, colorful fashion, “I understand. I gave up my vote at ejaculation.” He doesn’t blab about her situation to anyone, even when he’s seeking advice from friends. Other than accidentally snorting her abortion pill (which mainly upsets her because he’d greedily snorted both lines), he puts her desire and comfort first. His going through the abortion symptoms with her perfectly symbolizes his surprising capacity for empathy.

The way they deal with this problem together makes for a funny and surprisingly sweet episode, but it’s also refreshing to see this depiction of a fetus father type who isn’t quite so rare in real life as TV would have us believe. I’ve watched a lot of abortion episodes and there is this tendency to create drama by placing the fetus father at odds with the pregnant woman and whatever choice she is making. Way less often do we see the guy say to her, “I’ll support whatever you want,” which is exactly what my boyfriend said to me when I was getting ready to terminate an unplanned pregnancy. Of course this is not everyone’s real life experience, but it seems underrepresented on TV.

But my favorite thing about this abortion tale is that magnificent scene with Jules and the bartender.  The young woman begins her tale by explaining how difficult it was for her to get an abortion. Unable to visit her local Planned Parenthood, which had recently been firebombed, she had to pay for a round-trip bus ticket to Pittsburgh, plus the cost of the surgery, plus the cost of three nights at a hotel. These are the sort of real life barriers that prevent people who live in small towns from accessing abortion, and that is something TV shows almost never discuss when they talk about termination. I’m extremely pleased that so many shows in the past few years have embraced the once-taboo topic of abortion and that we’ve see many pregnant protagonists — from Scandal’s Olivia Pope to Bojack Horseman’s Diane — choose termination without the tiniest bit of shame. But most TV shows feature middle and upper class characters who live in or around major cities where abortion is still pretty accessible. I live in a mid-sized southern city where you cannot get a legal abortion. If I needed to terminate, I’d have to travel two hours to a larger city, where I’d have to wait 48 hours for the pill or procedure itself. For people who work low wage jobs and/or don’t have a car, abortion becomes an expensive, time-consuming, potentially job-threatening endeavor. How pleasing to see a young, working class woman character on a TV show lay this all out for viewers who may not understand how hard it is to get an abortion here in flyover country.*

I also love the bartender’s story because it includes the funniest dark joke of the whole episode. Describing what happened when she got to the abortion clinic, she says, “The protesters screamed the worst things humanly possible in my face. But it was fine because I was listening to ‘Shake It Off’.” She smiles, then adds, “And then somebody threw a diaper full of rocks at me… That I couldn’t shake off.” As horrifying as this is, the casual, almost gossipy way she relates the story makes it so funny.

Indeed, her nonchalance about sharing her experience (“I tell everyone that story! It’s the first thing on my dating profile”) honestly reminded me of some of my millennial friends. I’ve always run with a pretty liberal and open-minded crowd, but I don’t remember me or my girlfriends talking so casually about abortion when I was in my early twenties. Even in the very church-going, abortion-unfriendly town where I currently reside, I’m regularly delighted to witness the open and unapologetic way some of my younger friends talk about termination. This bartender reminded me a bit of one young activist I know, who posted on Facebook the day after Tennessee’s anti-choice Amendment One passed, “Someone needs to knock me up so I can have a spite abortion.” I still laugh out loud every time I think about that.

Alas, this scene is not perfect. A couple small details bugged me. At one point Dale, one of the redneck yokel bar flies, brags about being the person who firebombed the Planned Parenthood (which the bartender shrugs off with an eye roll). Look, I know some enemies of abortion access could best be described as “redneck” but this is a cheap shot. The writers of this show seem to have so much contempt for small-town people, but I suspect most of them probably don’t know any. It makes for some pretty hollow satire, especially because firebombin-rednecks aren’t the main reason rural women can’t get abortions (Republican legislators and anti-choice organizations are).

And then there’s this other detail, about which I have mixed feelings. After telling Jules that the procedure itself was easy, the bartender says, “Sure, when I woke up I felt like shit and I had a black eye from the rock diaper. But would I do it again?” With a slightly embarrassed look, she says, “Yeah, I did.” Ah, now here’s a major taboo, both on TV** and IRL - the woman who seeks multiple abortions. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it until we fully obliterate termination stigma, THERE IS NO CORRECT NUMBER OF ABORTIONS A PERSON CAN HAVE. If you call yourself pro-choice but catch yourself saying things like, “abortion shouldn’t be used as birth control,” or, “abortion should be safe, legal, and rare,” you are hurting the movement. As long as you believe that more-than-one-abortion is tacky or yucky, you are keeping stigma alive. Please stop.

So yes, I look forward to the day when “I had two abortions” isn’t a punchline. Nevertheless, I still appreciate seeing a character say that she did, especially one who is this funny and cool.

GRADE

A- Based on previous episodes, I had no expectation of loving this story as much as I did. The grievances listed above would usually result in a lower grade, but that just shows how great the rest of the episode is.

* While the bartender’s timeline implies that there was a waiting period for her procedure (consistent with Pennsylvania law), this is not something Jules encounters when she meets with the physician. I imagine this detail was omitted for the purpose of moving the story along, but it is an oversight.

** The only other character I’ve seen who talks about having had more than one abortion is Mimi-Rose from Girls.

- by Tara

UPDATE: A reader correctly noted that Samantha from Sex and the City also talked about having had two abortions. Good catch! 

[caroline18mars]

Into the night - Chapter 89

Sun was starting to set as the car drove up the tarmac, “Oh a plane! Are we going to fly again, aunt Jordan?” Noah clicked open his seatbelt to sit on his knees so he could look outside the window, “Yes pumpkin, we are,  what would you say about going to visit Jared and Shannon again?” she nodded with a smile. “Really? We are really going back to my home?” Noah suddenly got superexcited, “yes..yes we are..” she tried to hide the sadness that this was probably the last time they travelled together, all the way down here, she had mentally said her goodbyes to London, the city she had a livelong love affair with. “I'll go get the suitcases” the driver stopped right next to the jetplane where Tom was already waiting for them as they got out too, “Tom, hey..I really appreciate this..” she walked up to him to push a kiss on his cheek but he immediately folded his arms around her and pulled her close to his body. “Don't mention it, it's the least I could do..I should be thanking you..what you did was so brave..I mean, risking your own life to clear Jared's and Charlotte's name..he didn't hurt you, did he?” he whispered in her ear, his voice thick with unshed tears. “No, no he didn't..don't worry” she closed her eyes, “how do you expect me not to worry? When you're not even allowed to travel..what if they find you a new heart here in the meantime? You're putting your life on the line, Jordan..” Tom pulled her tighter against him, he didn't want to let go of her, he wasn't ready to say a final goodbye to another friend. “I know..I know, Tom, just promise me one thing, ok? If anything should happen to me, please make sure that Noah is taken care of, that's all I ask” she pulled slowly out of his embrace to fish a set of keys and an envelope with his name on it, out of her bag “here, this is the key to my apartment, and this is..well, you'll know when to open this one, ok?” and pushed them in his hands. “Jordan, I..” Tom stood there looking at her, completely lost for words “We really should be going..goodbye Tom..” she pushed another kiss on his cheek and then turned to join Noah on the stairs leading up to the plane, turning one last time to raise her hand in a wave before she walked inside and the flight attendant closed the heavy door behind her. Ten minutes later the small plane shot its' way up to the sky and she looked out of the little window to watch her majestic hometown dissapear underneath her, tears rolling down her face “Why are you crying, aunt Jordan? Are you going to miss London?” Noah wiggled his head underneath her arm. “Yes sweetheart, I'm going to miss London very much” she whispered as she let her nephew cuddle up to her, “but we're going home now as well, aren't you happy we're going to Jared and Shannon again?” Noah tried to cheer her up. “Yes of course I'm happy to see them again..you're right, I'm being a bit silly, aren't I?” she quickly wiped the tears away and gave him a reassuring smile, this poor thing had absolutely no idea of the bad news the doctor had given her and that was exactly the way she wanted to keep it, he had been through enough in his young life, “anyway, why don't we watch that DVD you got from Victor? That was really nice of him to give you a present, wasn't it?”.

The letter had been burning in Tom's hand all the way back from the airport to the hotel, no he couldn't open it, nothing was going to happen to her, she was going to be fine..of course she was, she had singlehandedly stopped history from repeating itself, surely the Universe would agree with him and keep her safe? “Scotch, please and make it a double” he ordered his drink sitting down at the bar, putting her keys and the letter in front of him. The way she had said goodbye though..it was almost like a copy/paste of when Charlotte had said goodbye to him for the very last time and back then he hadn't recognized the signs but now he had, the inner peace with their fate they both seemed to have, the way things were said..eloquent and determined so nobody could mistake their hidden message for anything else, the message that it wasn't gonna be long now before...fuck he should have known and just gone with her..how could he be so blind?. “Drinking alone? Now, that's never a good sign..” Cedric suddenly appeared behind him and sat down on the empty barstool next to him, “a guy can have a drink after a long day at the office, can't he?” Tom snapped back as he quickly pushed the letter and her keys out of sight, this was none of his goddamn business. “Of course, well, I'll join you then, I had a long day as well, see I took Jordan to the hospital today” he said, acting like he had done the most heroic thing ever, “What? What for?” Tom asked genuinely surprised, she hadn't mentioned anything about having to go to hospital today. “A check up for her heart..and I don't think it was good news..shame though, I got this close to actually fucking her” a sardonic scowl formed around his mouth. “Ok, that's enough! Jordan's in a very happy relationship and  you're even more deluded than I thought, if you think a woman like her could even be remotely interested in someone like you” Tom got up, grabbing the envelope and her keys. “Oh really? I've got her wrapped around my little finger, I can feel it! Imagine the publicity the label is going to get if we put a dying young woman on the cover of Vogue or Elle as your muze, that's something no label has ever done before. Every interview we can have her talking about her connection with you and we'll be laughing all the way to the bank, you know how much everyone loves drama, every collection will sell out the same way they did after Charlotte died, so I suggest that from now on every collection is based on Jordan and her struggle and I promise you the minute she dies, the collections will become iconic! I'm even thinking on making a 'Charlotte' and a 'Jordan' collection, Charlotte's being the more iconic, classy, Parisian collection and Jordan's the more urban chic with a twist of London punk! What do you think? Brilliant idea, isn't it?” Cedric rattled with dollar signs already flashing in his eyes. “You want to know what I think? Really? Ok, well, I think you're a sick and twisted man, first you kill Charlotte and all you can think of is plastering her name on a frikkin handbag? And you really think I'm gonna let you do the same to Jordan?” Tom hissed as he aggressively poked Cedric's chest with his indexfinger “enjoy your little powertrip for as long as it lasts because I swear you're going down”.

”Miss McLeod?!”...”Aunt Jordan..Aunt Jord-a-hnnn” she heard her name being called but her eyelids were just so heavy, “Miss McLeod”, oh alright then, what? She slowly drifted back to consciousness, her heart thumping slow and loud in her chest as she blinked a couple of times to see the flight attendant standing over her with a worried frown and Noah tapping her cheek with his little hand. “What, what is it?” she groaned as she sat up, “we'll be landing in LA in less than an hour, is there anything else you would like?” the flight attendant took her empty glass from the side table. “Uhmm, yeah..I need to take my meds..could you take the little box out of my bag?”. Noah climbed on her lap while the attendant handed her the little box and a new glass of water, “are those the pills for your heart? And you keep them in a box in the shape of a heart? Silly aunt Jordan!” he put his head against her chest “does your heart still hurt so much, aunt Jordan?”. Jordan swallowed the handful of pills and handed the glass back to the attendant with a grateful nod, “yes it does, sweetheart..and there's something I need to tell you about that..but you have to promise me that you're gonna be brave about this, ok?” she lovingly caressed his blonde hair. “Are you gonna die?” he bluntly said when he lifted his head from her bosom and looked at her, “there's a big chance that I might, you see..the doctors haven't found a new heart for me yet and if they do find a heart, It might not be the right heart for me and even if it is, I'm no longer there to receive it..and..the heart I have now is very, very sick” she needed to be honest with him, this was his future after all. Noah's lip started to quiver as they locked eyes and she slowly caressed his cheek, wiping his tears with her thumb “I don't want you to die, I love you” he hiccuped through his tears. “I love you too and I'm gonna do my very best to stay alive, ok? But if I don't make it, then I want you to know that you'll never be alone, I've made absolutely sure you'll be looked after by your family and I know it won't be easy but you have to promise me you'll give them a chance, ok? Can you promise me that?” she whispered and gently pushed her lips against his little forehead. “I promise..but I don't know how to be without you, aunt Jordan, you're my mommy now, no, you're even sweeter than my mommy was” he put his arms around her neck and clung to her for dear life. The flight attendant was on her way to come and tell them that they had to fasten their seatbelts as the plane started to make its way down to LAX but she stopped as she saw the young woman and the child glued to each other after she had overheard their conversation, those two would keep each other safe.

”I don't know if I can do this..” Jared mumbled as Shannon parked the car in front of the courthouse, he had been up all night and he had the dark circles and the tremor in his hands to prove it. “Of course you're gonna do this, today's an important day..” Shannon got interrupted by the bleeping of Jared's phone when he switched it back on and anger flashed in his eyes when he saw the notification of a missed call, “Jordan?” he sighed knowing the answer already.  “Doesn’t matter, let’s just go” he mumbled all irritated and quickly pushed the phone back in his pocket before he got out of the car. “Jay come on, maybe she wanted to explain things..” Shannon hurried after him, “explain what, Shannon? That she willingly hooked up with Charlotte’s killer? He’s the goddamn reason we’re here right now while he’s out there, fucking my girl..or better what I thought was my girlfriend while I get to raise his kid? Seriously? I told you, I don’t care if she lives or dies, she can go to hell for all I care and take that creep with her, she crossed the line!” his brother yelled and gestured wildly. “Jay, keep it down, will ya? You of all people know what those paps are capable of?! You know how they manipulate everything and that’s probably what happened, I refuse to believe that Jordan would do something to deliberately hurt you and I can't believe that you could even think so low of her, not after everything you two have been through” Shannon quickly looked around him to check if they didn't have an audience but they had so he grabbed his brother's arm and quickly pulled him up the steps and out of sight. “They didn't manipulate her and Cedric together, did they? She knew who he was and just jumped in his arms the minute I turn my back? You know what? You're right! Who cares? She's dying anyway” Jared sarcastically spat at him and then turned on his heels to walk inside the courtroom.

The California heat hit Jordan hard as she helped Noah down the steps of the plane with one hand while trying to balance both their bags on the other, their departure had been so sudden that she didn't even think of putting on something more adapted to these temperatures. “Are we going to see Jared and Shannon now? I want to go swimming, can we go swimming aunt Jordan?” Noah excitedly clapped his hands as they got into the waiting car, “I'm sure Shannon will take you swimming, sweetie, but first there's something I need to do” she sighed as she grabbed her phone and switched it on, maybe he had been trying to call her..no, he hadn't..ok well, his spare time was limited with this courtcase, didn't matter, she would see him in half an hour or so. It was like Amanda was hosting her own talkshow the way she dodged and covered up every allegation his lawyer threw at her, everything was lost now, that much was for sure, he constantly had to stop himself from shooting over to her and shutting that filthy mouth of her but all he could do was sit here, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms on his trousers. “I'm sorry, Miss, but this is a closed courtroom” some hulk stepped in front of her the minute she wanted to open the door, “Please, you have to let me through, I have some important information” Jordan clutched Noah's hand a little tighter when the man stared her down. Noah was the one who saved the day, he let go of her hand and sneaked around the man, opening the door of the courtroom “Shannon? Jared?” he yelled as he ran up to the front of the room. Jared’s head shot up like a bullet went right through him when he heard Noah’s screams “Noah..” he breathed as he got up, the young boy flying right into his arms, what the..? how..?. Taking advantage of the security’s surprise, she pushed past him and followed Noah into the room “Jared..oh thank god, you’re still here” she puffed out of breath from running the short distance, but what had her heart really thumping was the icy look in his eyes as he glared at her for a second and then completely ignored her. “Jared?” she mumbled his name again, what the hell was going on here? “Who are you and what are you doing in my courtroom? May I kindly remind you that this is a court of law and not a playground” the judge drew her attention with an angry snap. “I’m sorry, your honour, I’m Jordan..Jordan McLeod..Mr. Leto’s girlfriend” she gave him another worried glance before she approached the bench where the judge was sitting, “You wish” Amanda, who was still in the witness bench, snarled at her “your honour, she’s completely irrelevant to this hearing, so could you please have her removed?” she rolled her eyes. Shannon was quickly getting over his initial shock of Jordan showing up here when he saw security walk up to her and grab hold of her roughly, “leave her be” he stood up, wanting to help her. “Don’t hurt my aunt Jordan” Noah wriggled himself out of Jared’s arms who still hadn’t said a word or even granted her a look, and ran up to her while the two gorillas dragged her back with force. “No, let me go!! I can prove that Jared’s not the father of Amanda’s baby..let me go, please, Jared’s not the father” she shouted in protest, it felt like her heart was being squeezed by an iron fist. Her statement made a shocked silence fall around the room for a few seconds and the judge was the first to break it with a firm bang of the little hammer on the table “Order! Miss McLeod, you have exactly 15 seconds to show this court the evidence for your assumptions”.

[catcomixzstudios]

How To Life Chapter 43 - Christianity

The Abrahamic God Quartet Part 2: God Takes A Fucking Chill Pill

You remember the God of Abraham, don’t you? That weird genocidal asshole who could never quite get humanity to be the way he wanted? Well, he’s back and… oddly much more chill than before.

Welcome to the second part of the Abrahamic God Quartet: Christianity. My personal feelings on this one are mixed to say the least. On the one hand, it is currently the largest faith in the world and has historically and currently done tons of good for it. It’s considered pretty much the foundation for Western culture (for better or worse) and has influenced many people to do and create great things.

But you can’t be a part of the largest religion in the world and not have some horrible things come out of it too. Along with the good, Christianity has also brought us the Crusades, Inquisitions, and televangelists. The story behind the faith itself has way less bloodshed than the prequel, which instead gets largely replaced with guilt-tripping. So there’s that.

Like most religions before it, I’m willing to wager that a majority of people involved are reasonably decent people. I may have some disagreements about certain aspects of their faith, but I’m by no means trying to take away people’s ability to believe in what they do. In exchange, however, I plan to poke fun and point out serious flaws to it because I also have the right to believe what I do.

You remember back in the first part, the scene where God got pissed at Adam and Eve from eating an apple that gave them knowledge of good and evil? Well God still has a hate-on about that. Because of that (completely preventable) event, humanity was forever doomed to be sinful (sin being something that upsets God). After how things went with the last Testament, God had decided to take a new approach to try and fix this issue he’s technically responsible for. Much like getting cold diarrhea on a hot day, God’s way of helping seems like it would make things better, but it really just makes a bigger mess.

Christianity kind of picks up where the Old Testament left off; God had kind of just fucked off after multiple bouts of genocide and strange dickitry. Things were quiet for a while, until God told a woman, Mary, that she is going to have a surprise baby complements of the holy spirit (whatever that used to be slang for). Her husband Joseph was naturally thrown off by this (since the two have never had sex), but he eventually dreamed about an angel telling him that God’s the baby-daddy, so everything’s good.

The baby, Jesus, was kind of a big deal. Many considered him to be the King of the Jews. Word began to spread about this and eventually reached the ears of King Herod. Being kind of a prick, he ordered all of the male infants be put to death in the city the family is residing him, Bethlehem. Luckily, Joseph got another angel dream warning him to get the fuck out before said baby massacre. They eventually found themselves in Nazareth.

We jump ahead to Jesus working to become a minister. The first step was his baptism. The man Jesus picked for the job, John, was immediately in awe of Jesus. That probably got exacerbated by the sky opening up and a booming voice telling John that Jesus is his son. (Jesus is kind of also God himself too, but explaining that particular relationship would take a whole other book.) More people reasonably began to believe that Jesus might just be an important figure. So important is he that the Devil (an alleged douchebag) visited Jesus while he’s alone fasting (or rather, starving) in a desert. The Devil tempted Jesus, but he ain’t having none of that shit.

Jesus really started to gain followers by that point. He had a relatively successful sermon with some good points, turned loaves of bread into fish (thanks?), and walked on water. He appointed twelve apostles to act as his main bros and help spread the overall mostly good messages he had. Jesus was on a roll.

He continued to travel around, magically curing diseases and preaching about ridding yourself of sin and devoting yourself to God. And it’s easy to make a good case for yourself when you’re literally bringing people back from the dead with your magic powers. Jesus even made time to hang with some of his apostle bros, where he is surrounded by a cloud that claims him as his son. They chose to believe that it was the voice of God, and not some jackass with a fog machine and a megaphone behind some rocks.

Shit started getting a little more heavy around this point, though. Jesus had gained enemies as well as followers, and their time for retribution is coming. The Man himself, meanwhile, started getting more aggressive with his campaign, including one instance where he starts wrecking up a temple that he alleges is full of thieves and scoundrels. He began prophesying about stuff like wars, earthquakes, and the cosmos themselves going ape-shit within the time of the people listening to his words. He even started getting in conflicts with the other Jewish leaders of the time.

The enemies Jesus had gained finally catch up with him. During what was dubbed “The Last Supper”, he foresaw that one of his apostles would betray him. I imagine one of them, Judas, was probably very nervous at that dinner after that for no particular reason. Immediately after that bummer of a dinner, Jesus was caught by the cops. Surprise surprise, it turned out that Judas sold him out to a Jewish elder who had gotten quite sick of Jesus muscling in on their turf.

Jesus was put on trial. The overseeing judge was reluctant to punish Jesus, but luck was not on his side, and he got sent to be crucified anyway. After his death, he was wrapped up and they store him in a rock tomb. The tomb was put under guard by the request of the Jewish priests.

That isn’t the end of the story, however. When someone went to check up on what should have been Jesus’ dead body, they find the place empty! The only logical answer was that he rose from the dead. This got apparently proven as he began appearing to the apostles who didn’t betray him and telling them to spread the word about his teachings. Once he was done screwing around on Earth, he got beamed up by a ray of light up to Heaven (or possibly to an alien spaceship) to be the right hand of God (whatever that used to be slang for).

That’s pretty much the end of the interesting stuff in the New Testament. Alot of it is repeating stuff from before followed by boring stories. The only other point of interest I found was the very last book, The Book of Revelations. Man, it’s mostly boring up to that point, but the New Testament goes out in a spectacular bang of insanity.

As for afterlife beliefs, Christianity comes with Heaven (the good afterlife) and Hell (the bad one). Whether you end up where you do is because of deeds or how you worship depends on what branch you believe in. Honestly, neither is really to my tastes; Heaven seems to boringly good, and Hell seems too full of fire and pain.

GOOD IDEAS:

- Jesus did teach some good ideas (treat others the way you want to be treated, judge not or you’ll be judged, respect others, etc)

- I will give it props for being the most “down-to-Earth” religion that has been covered so far. Most are just about Gods dicking around humanity, but this one actually seems to care about us

- Revelations is completely bat-shit insane and hilarious read

BAD IDEAS:

- Jesus didn’t come up with the golden rule before anyone else did

- Judaism didn’t really have a concept of an afterlife, but Christianity just had to bring one in

- Jesus is a mary-sue

LIKELIHOOD OF TRUTH: ~51%. While Christianity does bring forth many good morals, some of these end up ignored by the people who still believe in it today. The story itself does have a more personal touch since the human characters actually have a role in the story (besides being targets for sex/murder from gods). The suffering that Jesus went through loses a bit of its edge when you consider that, as Matt Dillahunty of the Atheist Experience best described it, it’s basically “God sacrificing himself to himself to serve as a loophole for rules he himself created.” I get that he apparently died for our sins, but usually the tragic part of martyrs is the fact that they die and stay dead for a cause. In terms of content, it’s certainly not the worst. It is followed by all kinds of people (for better or worse) and remains a cornerstone of Western culture. And for what it’s worth, has a way more interesting story than the next entry in the Abrahamic God Quartet.

(Previous Chapter) | (Archive) | (Next Chapter)