#and then suddenly jason's back??? and all that attempted healing gets thrown way out of whack because suddenly he's here again???

[navree]

there's a lot of reasons why that titans show wanting to do batfam specific arcs, especially death in the family/under the red hood, flopped so hard each time, but one of the biggest is that they basically brought jason back after, like, a fucking month and it basically negates the entire thing

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: LOST BOY + for him. (Jaida-centric) - Mac

AN: Thanks to Alex for betaing and thanks to you all for sticking with me as this update took a while. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Summary: Jaida is still reeling from the events of Widow’s birthday party, but she doesn’t have time to process as Homecoming is on the horizon.

The week leading up to Homecoming, Jaida did her best to act as if nothing had changed.

She attended class, ate lunch with her teammates, went to practice, drove home, did her work, and went to bed.

She was structured. Followed her routine.

Nothing had changed.

Except her secret was out.

Granted, only out to a handful of people, most of whom didn’t care enough to spread gossip like that. But there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t go flaunting her business to the entire school.

And that’s what ultimately worried her.

Every whisper in the hallway had her straining her ear to listen. Each snicker made her wince. It was like her body was on high alert and she had to do everything in her power to pretend it wasn’t.  

She hardly even noticed when last period rolled around, reflexively sighing as the familiar screech of the intercom sounded.

Jan’s voice rang out, chipper and bright as ever.

It was a small comfort.

“Good afternoon!”  Jaida could hear her smile through the static. “I know everyone is anxious for the Homecoming court nominees, so we’ll start with that. But first-”

Jaida poorly concealed an eye roll. In the midst of all her personal drama, she had almost forgotten entirely about the dance.

“Like previous years, Eastview recognizes the student body as a whole is diverse and not everyone fits into gendered roles, so we will, as we have in the past, refer to the winners as Homecoming Royalty rather than King or Queen!”  

There was some shuffling as the intercom was passed around, Bryce’s voice suddenly ringing in the small classroom.

“Without further ado,” he boomed. “The nominees for our 2020 Homecoming court are…” He paused dramatically, causing a few people to groan. “Nicky Doll, Jan Sport, Jaida Essence Hall, Gigi Goode, Bryce Eilenberg, Wilson Lai,  Jason Carter, and Mark Manio.”

Jaida felt herself exhale.

“Congrats to all our nominees! Reminder to everyone that you can go in and vote through the student portal for Homecoming royalty now. We look forward to seeing everyone at the dance this Friday!”

Jaida tuned out the rest of the announcements. Though she smiled politely whenever her peers stopped to congratulate her, she had ultimately zoned out, instead focusing on outlining a new defensive play to run during practice.

Her teammates didn’t comment on her subdued nature, probably out of fear. They simply nodded when she gave instructions, hustled around the court, jumped when she said jump. The usual.

The gym was a welcome relief from the rest of the school. It was a comfort thing, sure, but mostly it acted as a representation for everything she was good at.

Here, in the 94 by 50 foot court, she was somebody.

She didn’t have to think. Everything was reflexes and power and speed. No mistake she made couldn’t be fixed by practicing a hundred hours.

No mistake was permanent.

Her body was mendable. She could make it do whatever she wanted.

She wrapped up practice as she always did, with the order of ten laps around the court and a high five to each of her girls. They filed off into the locker room one by one, but Jaida lingered a bit, her mind still mulling over the events of the past few days.

She found her eyes trailing down to the area of skin above the bend in her elbow. The black ink of the fresh tattoo still took her off guard. It hadn’t fully healed yet, and there were traces of irritation around the black dots that made up the letters. She sighed as she ran her fingers over the raised skin, memories of Widow’s birthday party flashing behind her eyes.

One such image stuck out among all the others though, and she felt bile rise in her throat at the thought.

Before the churning in her stomach could get worse, she started running.

She felt her body take over as she threw herself around the court at lighting speed. Lap after lap after lap. Her brain only passively aware that she was moving because of the beads of sweat making their way from her hairline to the small of her back.

Jaida only slowed when she noticed a figure at the edge of the court.

Gigi stood calmly under the net, hair styled, posture set, unabashedly staring as Jaida rounded a corner.

It was strange.

After hiding for so long, Gigi simply looking at her felt dangerous.

Jaida slowed to a walk several feet in front of the cheerleader, taking cautious steps closer.

The corner of Gigi’s mouth quirked up playfully. “So, you gonna ask me to Homecoming, Allstar?” She batted her eyes in a manner that would have, under normal circumstances, had Jaida chomping at the bit to press her against the nearest flat surface.

As it was, with the memory of Gigi’s frazzled appearance and Jackie’s smug smile burned into her retinas, Jaida couldn’t help but bite back a scoff at the notion.

“Thought you had a date,” she muttered, venom in her words.

Gigi’s smile vanished; her eyes fell to the floor. “Not anymore.”

“Oh? You’re too good for her too?” Jaida couldn’t help the bitterness from seeping out, her arms coming to cross in front of her chest defensively.

Gigi’s eyes flashed darkly, but the glint of anger passed just as suddenly as it appeared. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Jaida set her mouth in a line, unwilling to give Gigi any more of an inkling into how she felt.

Gigi hesitated a moment, her previously icy posture melting a bit as her eyes searched Jaida’s face for… something.

“Is it Jan?” She finally asked.

“Is what Jan?”

“Why you can’t look at me?”

Jaida nearly choked on her own spit.

Gigi nodded once. Firmly. With finality.

And turned on her heel.

…

Friday came faster than Jaida would have liked.

Luckily for her, Widow had reached out the day after the nominations, almost as if she knew what Jaida was going through, and had offered a spot in their Homecoming group.

Jaida had accepted gratefully, thankful, because her only other option had been to go alone, seeing as her teammates all had made plans weeks ago.

She still wasn’t thrilled about the whole prospect of Homecoming, knowing that it was mostly an excuse for people to get drunk and party after a school-sanctioned event. Seeing as the most recent party she attended had ended so poorly, she wasn’t eager for a repeat.

Still, she was glad to be involved, even if she loathed herself for it.

It was something she had tried and failed to explain in the past. She was grateful, absolutely. The opportunities she had been offered, the friends she had made, her damn college tuition had all been made possible through basketball and her quasi-stardom. She wasn’t ignorant to the power she held. She just didn’t see it the same way other people did. That’s what Widow still couldn’t understand. It wasn’t fun to have the reputation of the school on your shoulders at all times. It was exhausting.

Jan understood.

Jaida figured that’s why it was so easy with her. They both held the weight of everyone’s expectations on their shoulders so constantly that it became a part of who they were. They prided themselves on never breaking a sweat, even when the unyielding pressure was too much to bear.

They saw it as strength, even if deep down they knew better.

The stress and pressure had taken over Jaida’s life so completely that she was scared of who she’d become without it.

So she set her shoulders and forced a smile when she arrived at Widow’s doorstep right at 8:30, dress bag thrown over a muscular forearm.

Widow had swung the door open wide, hair tied up in a towel, practically naked. But she acted like this was totally normal as she let Jaida in, leading her down the familiar hallway to the kitchen.

There were two other figures lounging about in various states of undress.

The guy, Joey, or Joe, Jaida remembered Widow calling him, was leaned against the counter, hip cocked out to the side, toothy grin set in the lines on his face.

He was handsome.

In that classically charming way that most men with two brain cells and a non-threatening demeanor were.

And then there was Dahlia.

She was perched atop the kitchen counter smiling widely at something Widow’s boyfriend had said when she made eye contact with Jaida.

Her expression changed instantly, face falling along with her gaze.

Jaida tried not to let it outwardly phase her. She still hadn’t figured out how she felt about Dahlia. The instance at the party being one of the only experiences she’d had with the younger girl. Granted, during said experience, Dahlia had gone out of her way to attack Jan and ended up being one of the driving forces that exposed her and Gigi.

But there was something else that Jaida couldn’t quite place. A motive.

Which made the whole thing ridiculously more complicated, and Jaida really didn’t want to get into all of it right then.

So she brushed it off to the best of her abilities and gave a small nod in Dahlia’s direction.

An understanding passed between them as the younger girl shot her an appreciative look before letting the tension in her shoulders dissipate.

The four of them lounged about the house for a solid half-hour before even attempting to begin the arduous process of getting ready. In all honesty, Jaida hadn’t been prepared for the event that her counterparts made dressing up, and she was taken completely off guard when they both insisted on doing her hair and makeup.

Jaida relented after a bit of teasing and let the two take over, grumbling just enough as they poked and prodded every inch of her face.

That, coupled with the fact that Widow and Dahlia had to get ready themselves, was just one of the many reasons they pulled into the parking lot of the school nearly two hours after the dance started.

Jaida’s group didn’t seem to mind though, Widow and Joe leading the way into the school, giggling into each other’s space all the while. Jaida found herself smiling at their antics, something about the uncomplicated nature of their relationship was refreshing to be around.

When they entered the school, Jaida managed to avoid having her picture taken, smoothly slipping away from the rest of her group in an attempt to orient herself.

It was just as well seeing as Widow began berating the school’s hired photographer about angles and lighting and a million other things Jaida couldn’t comprehend.

The basketball star couldn’t help but smile slightly at the decorations that covered every inch of the gym. The theme had been Underwater Ball, which Jan had despised since the moment it was chosen.

Jaida couldn’t count the number of times she had to listen to the student body president complain about how blue washed her out and how unethical the whole fishing industry was.

But for however much Jan hated the theme, she had done a damn good job with the decorations. Floor to ceiling cardboard waves acted as a background to the literal hundreds of hand-drawn fish cutouts. Not to mention the life-size mermaid statues that lined the dance floor. Projectors on either side made the waves look realistic as they moved with the non-existent tide. Seaweed pillars lined the stage in the center of the gym.

And Jaida’s personal favorite touch, the seafood puns.

Claw and Order Crab Cakes

Kriller Punch

As Jaida’s eyes roamed the impressive setup, she caught sight of some familiar faces.

Nicky and Jackie were smack dab in the middle of the dance floor, throwing their heads back, eyes shut, dancing like lunatics. They commanded attention. Nicky, with her natural grace, and Jackie with her unending magnetism.

Heidi and Crystal swayed nearby, giggling at their pair of friends and chatting with… Brita, who looked to be having the time of her life.

Jadia wasn’t really up to date with all the cliques, but the grouping seemed unusual.

She shrugged it off and continued scouting out the rest of the space, catching Aiden and Rock out of the corner of her eye. The two girls had managed to get to the very top of the collapsed bleachers and were looking out at the mass of bodies.

Then there was Jan, surrounded by a crowd of smiling faces, and Bryce at her side. A casual onlooker wouldn’t question the scene in the slightest, but Jaida could see Jan’s hand tensing around her cup at the proximity.

And then there was Gigi, standing alone against the far wall, covered head to toe in dazzling silver, her dress reflecting the pulsing lights.

She looked like a sexy disco ball. And also like she’d been crying.

Jaida hated that her stomach twisted at the thought.

No matter how hard she tried, and Lord knows how hard she tried, Jaida couldn’t let Gigi go. It wasn’t even fondness anymore, it was all of it. The whole stupid fucking lot of it. The sex and the feelings and the closeness that shook Jaida to her very core.

She craved Gigi with every ounce of her being.

Her heart beat in time with Gigi’s careful steps; the click-clack of heels against linoleum floors.

But before Jaida could fall into another endless spiral of feelings and self-loathing, there was a voice ringing out over the speakers calling for all the Homecoming Royalty nominees to come to the stage.

Jaida felt herself follow the lead of the other nominees onto the stage. She squinted at the harsh spotlights, feeling the familiar itch on her skin that meant people were looking at her. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant, just… noticeable.

She took a moment to breathe in and out and survey her competition.

Nicky up first in a gorgeous black and white pantsuit, looking like the epitome of French fashion. Jan to her left, sunshine yellow dress complimenting the brilliant smile she wore. Jaida’s own form fitting red dress pooling around her ankles like water. And Gigi in her silver shining dress that hugged her sides the way Jaida’s hands itched to.

The nominees stood hand in hand, some holding their breath, others rolling their eyes internally as the room went dead silent. The seconds ticked by like hours, but Jaida felt Jan squeeze her hand a split second before the announcement came.

“Jaida Essence Hall and Jan Sport!”

Jaida smiled reflexively as her heart sank in her chest.

She turned to pull a beaming Jan into her arms. The first physical contact they’d had since the party. And that knowledge alone lit something up inside of Jaida, but before either of them could say anything more than a simple congrats, there were sashes and crowns and the booming voice calling for students to clear the floor.

Jaida rolled her eyes at the extra-ness of it all, but Jan elbowed her in the side and she couldn’t help but break out into a giggle.

She offered a hand out to Jan, who smiled adorably as she took it, leading them down the stairs of the stage and into the center of the gym.

Jaida let her hands find Jan’s hips, while Jan’s arms wrapped around the back of Jaida’s neck.

Jaida couldn’t help a grin as a corny love song began to play from the speakers. Jan blushed prettily and teased her about it, but Jaida didn’t care.

She and Jan swayed for what felt like ages. Hands and bodies wrapped around each other.

They fit.

Body and soul they fit.

“You’ve got an admirer,” Jan whispered, nodding her head over Jaida’s shoulder.

The Allstar player turned her head and caught sight of Gigi staring daggers at the pair of them. She quickly looked away when she was caught, then pushed herself off the wall where she had been leaning, storming over to Nicky and pulling the other girl out the gym doors.

“How are you?” Jan’s tone was serious, but her eyes were soft.

Jaida chuckled and shook her head.

“What?”

“Nothing I just-” Jaida smiled. “You never say what I expect you to.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment.” Jaida insisted, inching that much closer to Jan. “Most people would be tryin’ to get information about all that.” She nodded in Gigi’s direction.

Jan shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not curious, but you’d tell me if you needed to.”

Jaida nodded. “Thank you, Jan.”

Jan smiled sadly as Jaida’s movements began to slow.

“For everything.”

Their careful swaying came to a stop and Jaida reached up to hold Jan’s hands in her own. “But I can’t-”

“It’s okay.” Jan stopped her, cupping Jaida’s face gently with one hand. “I won’t take it personally.”

Jaida smiled sadly at her own words echoing back at her. She couldn’t fight the rush of emotion that filled her chest the longer she stayed fixed in place, breathing in Jan’s presence.

So she didn’t.

She let it wash over her in one ceaseless crash after another.

And then Jan let her go.

…

Jaida found Gigi and Nicky leaning up against the side of the school, cigarettes held loosely between red lips. Gigi coughed on every inhale, but the fire in her eyes kept her cigarette from going out.

Jaida approached the pair cautiously, careful to not trip over her dress.

The cheerleader tensed as she came closer, while Nicky looked between them warily.

“Gigi, can we talk?” Jaida asked, letting a bit of her frustration out in her tone.

Gigi swallowed around a cough and glared. “What? Still don’t wanna be seen with me?”

Jaida rolled her eyes, the past month’s worth of frustration and hurt spilling over. She didn’t think twice before pulling Gigi into a forceful kiss that they both felt in their toes. Gigi melted into the contact, fiery exterior melting away the longer Jaida’s lips pressed to hers.

They hadn’t ever properly kissed before, but it didn’t seem to matter, their mouths meeting in time, breath synching up almost subconsciously.

When they finally parted, resting their foreheads together, Nicky was nowhere to be found.

They didn’t speak as Jaida interlaced their fingers and led Gigi silently away from the school.

They climbed into Jaida’s truck, neither mentioning how this was the first time Gigi had sat in the passenger seat. They drove and drove and drove, Jaida’s eyes fixed on the road ahead of them, rather than the pit growing in her stomach. But Gigi’s warm hand on her thigh grounded her, kept her head from flying too far away from her shoulders.

Jaida’s mind was empty as the jet black road narrowed, leading up and up and up into the mountains just outside of town.

The Allstar chanced a look over at her passenger seat. She couldn’t read Gigi’s expression as the wind whipped her previously pristine hair into a tangle of blonde strands. The shimmer of her dress still reflected the sparse streetlights as they raced around countless switchbacks.

She looked beautiful.

Jaida pulled over at the next lookout point. Only when she turned the key did she notice she had been holding her breath.

They sat in the silence for a beat before Jaida felt herself stir, exiting the vehicle and hopping down onto thinly milled gravel.

Body on autopilot, she lowered the back hatch and crawled into the bed of her truck, ignoring the way her dress pulled at the seams from the movement. She offered a hand out to Gigi and the two sat against the back window.

Gigi curled to her side as if knowing this would be the last time she could, head fitted neatly on Jaida’s shoulder, the easy intimacy making the older girl’s stomach churn.

They didn’t say anything for a long while, Gigi running her fingers over the exposed skin of Jaida’s arms, Jaida staring at the stars like they would provide some answer to their predicament.

“This is it, huh?” Gigi finally whispered into the darkness, all anger and malice gone from her words.

Jaida felt her chest tighten.

“We’ve hurt too many people already.”

“So hurting us is gonna change that?”

Jaida shook her head and was surprised to find herself blinking back tears all of a sudden. “No,” she conceded, “but you know we can’t keep doing this.”

Gigi chuckled bitterly. “If I had a nickel for every time you said that.”

“It’s different now,” Jadia insisted.

“Because you can’t stand to be seen with me?” Gigi bit out. “You could do a lot worse, you know.”

Jaida sighed. “Gigi-”

The cheerleader cut her off with a gentle touch to Jaida’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She looked down to her hands, fingers flexing against the fabric of Jaida’s dress anxiously.

Jaida shook her head. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have started this in the first place.”

“I didn’t stop you.”

No, she hadn’t.

She didn’t know Gigi was in a relationship when they started their… arrangement. She assumed. Hell, Gigi looked like that, she must have had people lining up left and right for a chance with her. Jaida assumed there was someone in the picture, but she hadn’t cared. She was frustrated and burned out and it was only their sophomore year. She wanted to be reckless, screw the consequences. And that had worked out fine for a while. They fucked and pretended to be perfect strangers if anyone asked.

But one night, Jaida was shooting the ball around outside her house, attempting to perfect her three-point shot, when she caught sight of Gigi through the window. She had her head in her hands, brow knit in frustration over an open textbook on her desk. It was a completely ordinary scene. Nothing magical in the least.

And yet something took root in Jaida’s chest then, something she was never able to voice aloud.

Suddenly their hurried sessions between respective practices felt different.

Jaida had done her best to push it aside. Gigi was supposed to be her reprieve from thinking. She was supposed to be like basketball, muscle memory.

She didn’t know what to say. She could still barely process her own thoughts, let alone verbalize them.

“I’m-” She started, but Gigi pressed a delicate finger to her lips, face scrunched up in a wince, like Jaida’s words caused her pain.

“Me too.”

The air between them stilled. The only noises audible were the crickets in the distance and Jaida’s pounding heart.

Eventually, Gigi shifted up on her hands, draping herself over Jaida’s body slowly. She began trailing kisses up the length of Jaida’s exposed neck.

Jaida tensed at the contact.

“Let me,” Gigi whispered, breathing shaky. “Please.”

They hadn’t done this a lot. Their rendezvous usually focused on Gigi’s pleasure, seeing as she was the one that could go home after, but she had persuaded Jaida a few times in the past to let her explore.

Jaida always felt exposed afterward, laid bare. Raw.

Jaida met her gaze warily, but the sheer panic in Gigi’s eyes was what finally did it.

After a beat, she nodded.

Gigi’s lips curved up at the sides. It wasn’t a smile. Not by the half. Because it didn’t warm Jaida’s chest from the inside out the way Gigi’s smiles usually did.

She traced lines of muscle with her tongue, breathed words Jaida couldn’t hear against her skin, marking it as her own.

Jaida felt her skin itch like it didn’t belong to her anymore. If she were being honest she knew in her heart it never had been hers.

It had always been Gigi’s.

Before long, Jaida was panting open-mouthed into the thrumming night air as Gigi’s fingers made sharp circles over her clit, pulling the older girl closer and closer to the edge with every gasping breath.

Gigi pressed herself closer, her mouth to Jaida’s neck, her chest to her stomach. Jaida felt like she was on fire and her mind was blank and full at the same time and it was all too much and then Gigi spoke.

“Tell me you loved me.”

She sounded far too coherent for Jaida’s current mental state to process.

But she couldn’t think about that, couldn’t think much of anything because she was so close and so torn up inside.

“Gigi-”

The cheerleader cut her off, pulling her head back so Jaida could see her teary eyes.

“Lie to me.”

Jaida shut her eyes tightly, unable to look at Gigi directly anymore. She let out a shaky exhale as Gigi resumed her ministrations.

“I still do,” Jaida whispered into the night air.

[feigncourage-moved]

@spiriitum​,    jonas    :    “look at me, you’re safe. and you’re not alone. and i’ll never let you be alone again. you understand?”

the nightmares are worse now than they ever used to be. things were bad after the lab, of course, but this is different. the lab had become something jason viewed as normal, a horrid thing to happen but normal all the same. that normalcy made the nightmares of the lab feel a little less intense, made it into something he dealt with, something that was hard but not impossible. but his time on the streets, his time being used and abused like that, it was different. it wasn’t his father, it wasn’t those cold white walls. he knew it was wrong when it was happening, no matter how commonplace it felt it never became normal. it was painful and terrifying and impossible to manage every time it happened, the boy having to endure it to get the basic necessities, turning something that he’d once enjoyed into something terrifying. he knows he’ll work through it eventually, especially with jonas’s help, but its only been a few days since he got back and he’s still absolutely terrified.

he clutches tightly to his teddy, sobs wracking bruised and beaten body. he’d heal soon enough, the bruises and cuts aren’t at all the thing that hurt. he’d spent enough time in his life bruised and beaten, that was manageable. it was the rest of it he struggled with, the vivid memories of it all, the way he flinches away from even jonas’s soft touch. he just wants jonas to hold him, wants to crawl up in jonas’s arms and find peace there. but his fear tells him he can’t, the boy only just managing to accept he way jonas’s feathers gently wrap around him. it’s something, it’s comfort, even if it doesn’t feel like enough. the feathers keep him grounded, something so distinctly jonas, the touch of feathers something that no one on those streets had managed to tarnish for him. 

tear filled eyes look up at jonas as he speaks, jason trembling on the bed like a child. he hasn’t felt this small, this SCARED, since the early days after the lab. everything that happened pushed him backwards a thousand steps, regressed him from all the progress they’d made over the years. with a small whimper he gently tugs jonas’s wing closer, wraps it more tightly around himself. it’s not really an answer, not really feeling all that capable of answering. yes, jason understands that jonas wont leave him alone again, won’t let him get hurt. but on some level he’s afraid that it doesn’t matter, that jonas’s attempts to keep him safe wont do anything. that the street gang will seek him out, get revenge for the way he suddenly left them, that they’ll hurt him again. jason’s not sure he could handle much more of that. he’s not sure he can handle much more of any of the bad things that seem to continuously get thrown their way.

[elletromil]

Love is alive

This is a little something for @elrhiarhodan who had the following prompt for the Stocking Stuffers held by @kingsmansecretsanta

For the mission, Eggsy can seduce and be seduced with the best of the Kingsman (he can also talk a good game), but he's really a romantic asexual.  Either Harry or Merlin, or Harry and/or Merlin find out.  Angst and happiness ensues.

I hope the fact I’ve used some of the Statesman doesn’t stop you from enjoying the story!

Love is alive

If there is one thing Merlin appreciates about agent Whiskey, it’s that she doesn’t beat around the bush about anything. Thanks to her previous tenure as Ginger, she understands that time is a precious commodity and Merlin has better things to do than to wait around for people to tell them what they want or need.

Of course, that’s not the only thing he appreciates about the woman, but if he had to pick only one that would probably it.

A close second would be that she doesn’t hesitate giving a hand every time she stops by his domain.

Kingsman isn’t really to sent anyone on missions quite yet, even if they do keep an eye on things locally. So having Whiskey’s help with the computers and logistics of building back the HQ from the ground up is a blessing. He’s still not sure what he can do to pay Champ back for sending both Whiskey and Tequila to help them with their undertaking.

Not that Tequila is doing much of anything right now, but he’s a good distraction for Eggsy while Roxy and Percival heal from their respective injuries, Harry is figuring out how to run a tailor shop and a distillery and himself and Whiskey are trying to have them up and running in the spy business in as little time as possible.

He’s not even jealous of how close Eggsy and Tequila have grown because for one, Eggsy owes him nothing, and for two, you would have to be brain dead not to notice how hopelessly devoted to each other Whiskey and Tequila were.

Which is why he isn’t really surprised by Whiskey’s words one afternoon while they are attempting to beat some wiring into submission.

“I know we’re here to help out, but you won’t be sending Tequila on any honeypot mission.”

“Ok.” His answer is short, but really, they don’t need to discuss more than this. They aren’t in the habit of sending unwilling agents to honeypots. Kingsman might be morally grey at best considering the business they deal in, but they do take care of their own. Forcing an agent take on a mission they aren’t ready for is the worst crime Merlin could possibly commit in his opinion.

That’s why Roxy only ever goes when the mark is a woman, why Percival hasn’t been on one since the previous Lancelot’s death.

Whiskey seems a bit thrown off by his easy acceptance, as if she had been bracing herself for some verbal sparring, but after staring at him, she must see something in his expression that reassures her, because she nods.

“Good. I told Jason he shouldn’t worry, that you probably have an understanding with Eggsy that he wasn’t privy to.”

That makes him look away from the wiring again, looking at her with confusion. What does this have to do with Eggsy? Sure, like all of the Knights, he hadn’t been too pleased about going after Clara, but it had also been the first honeypot he had done. And if Eggsy hadn’t wanted to do it, they would have found another way.

Merlin thinks there must have been a different plan in place if Tequila was the original agent Champ wanted to send. Something longer and more difficult to achieve most likely, but Merlin would have used it rather than do anything that would force an agent into something that truly went against their personal comfort zones. After all, the work of a handler wasn’t only to make sure their agent would come back safely, it was also to know when not to sent said agent into a situation they weren’t equipped to deal with.

But Eggsy had never said anything about honeypots and any potential unwillingness to do them. Of course, he had never been sent on one before Poppygeddon, but Merlin had asked him upon his Knighting if there was anything he should know that could compromise any mission and had been very clear that Eggsy could come to him at any time to change the notes in his files.

To his knowledge, nothing has really changed since then.

They’ve grown closer in their shared grief for Harry’s loss, but nowhere near close to what Tequila and Whiskey seem to share. At least not yet. And anyway, he’s never cared about what agents did on their mission. He’s handled countless of Harry’s own honeypots and if they’ve had many arguments over the year, this has never come up in them.

He’s rather shocked that it’s not the same way for Tequila and Whiskey. Their relationship seems secure enough from his point of view.

“Don’t take Tequila’s worries the wrong way.” She adds after a while without turning to look at him, but still sensing his confusion and somehow mistaking it for Merlin being offended. “He hasn’t really worked with you yet and it’s hard for him to trust people, even when I vouch for them. That, and he forgets that asexuality is a spectrum and not everyone identifying to it is sex repulsed. And that not everyone is an asshole who would dismiss one’s sexuality for the good of a mission.” With the disgust she says that last, it’s obvious that there is a story there, but she turns back to their work before he can ask.

Not that he would, because he’s stuck on the first part of her little speech. There is no mistaking her meaning and it’s a revelation he doesn’t know what to do with.

Not that Tequila and Eggsy are aces, he couldn’t care less for that.

But that Eggsy has never trust him enough to tell him��� He’s afraid he’s failed the lad horridly.

“Whiskey, would you mind finishing that up? I need to find Arthur and discuss some pressing matters.”

She has already immersed herself in the work because she simply hums and waves him off dismissively.

If he wasn’t in such a hurry to speak with Harry, he would take a moment to appreciate her wonderfully one-side tracked mind.

*

“Did you know Eggsy was ace?”

Harry sighs when Merlin bursts into his office without knocking first, or even a simple greeting. He doesn’t mind the distraction of course, but good manners have never killed anyone.

“Hello Merlin, always a pleasure to have you dro-” His brain suddenly catches up with his ears and the rest of his sentence gets lost. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Eggsy, did you know he was ace? As in asexual.” Merlin adds as if his confounded look has anything to do with terminology.

“I know what ace is, I just-” words fail him once more, but it doesn’t seem to bother Merlin, who just drops on the armchair in front of Harry’s desk. There is distress in his eyes that he wishes he could soothe away, but he needs to process the bombshell that’s been dropped just now first.

It’s a bit hard to believe at first, that Eggsy could be ace. He’s sure he hasn’t imagined the chemistry that has been there between them since day one or the one that has developed between Merlin and him while they thought Harry was dead. The chemistry that is still there between the three of them since their reunion, the chemistry that has not even been altered by the knowledge that Harry and Merlin have been an item for nearly as long Eggsy has been alive.

If anything, Eggsy had seem to become even more comfortable in their presence after they had confided in him about their relationship. And maybe they hadn’t clearly stated their intention to court him, but surely Harry had not imagined how Eggsy would seek their touch much more freely and offer his in return without a second thought?

But now that he really takes the time to truly think about it, there has indeed been something missing from Eggsy when compared to all the other lovers they have taken in their time. Something that was easy to miss when for once what binds them all together is an unshakable trust and a profound love.

Eggsy has never look at them with desire in his eyes. Never sought to aroused it in them either.

In fact, now that he truly thinks about it, Harry cannot understand how they haven’t realised it before.

“How did we miss it?” He sounds dismayed and he doesn’t even tries to hide it. Not that he would have been successful if he had tried anyway, not with Merlin.

“He’s good at hiding what he doesn’t want people to know.”

He’s right, but that’s no excuse and judging from Merlin’s pained expression, he feels the exact same way Harry does. They’re bloody spies for fuck’s sake, they should have figured it out way before. Their only saving grace it that they had both agreed to woo Eggsy slowly and thus, they’ve probably not forced anything on the boy he would have been uncomfortable with.

But it hurts to think Eggsy hadn’t trust them enough to tell them. That maybe he thought they would treat him any differently if they know.

Not that Harry is foolish enough to think it’s a revelation that will change nothing between them, but it won’t be anything vital. They’ll just change their expectation of getting him into bed for some fantastic sex to some lazy cuddling. If that is something Eggsy is interested in.

His heart clenches at the thought that maybe they truly misread everything about Eggsy’s feelings for them. That maybe he only thinks of them as dear friends and they’ve twisted his fondness into something he will find disgusting.

“We need to talk to him.” He forces the words out before he can think of darker scenarios.

There’s no use making any decision now, not without Eggsy’s input. Maybe Harry and Merlin’s true feelings will revolt him, but he deserves to know and make his own choice. And if he wants nothing more to do with them… They’ll have to accept it.

“Aye, that we do.” Merlin agrees after a moment, but neither of them move from their seats, unwilling to face the harsh reality yet.

*

Since they’ve come back to London after saving the world twice in so many years, Eggsy usually has dinner with Harry and Merlin. Which isn’t really surprising considering he’s taken over their guest room until he finds a place of his own.

Not that he is in any hurry for that and neither are Merlin and Harry for that matter. At least he doesn’t think.

Because while he’s the first to admit that sometime the intricacies of interpersonal relationship fly ten feet above his head, he doesn’t think he’s wrong in thinking that he’s more than welcomed into their privacy. For one, neither have alluded to how Eggsy really should have found a place by now if he was really looking and for two… For two, there has been far too many fond looks and lingering touches from both men to believe he’s somehow misunderstood what they want.

He knows of course that they probably want a bit more than he does, but it’s nothing that he’s unwilling to give them. He think he would probably enjoy the sex more with them than with anyone else, if only because he loves them so damn much. Or maybe it’s his naivety talking, his desire to believe in happy endings.

But how can he do otherwise after observing just how happy Tequila and Whiskey are together? Is it so wrong to hope that, like Tequila, he can find someone who will accept him like he is and never tries to change him?

Of course, for that to happen he would have to confide in both Merlin and Harry first, but it’s easier to say than to do. And the more time he spends in their company, the more he basks in their pride in him and the gentle touches they bestow upon him, the more he thinks that maybe, they don’t really need to know.

It wouldn’t change anything anyway. What he’s willing to do for a mission, he’s willing to do for the men he’s fallen in love with.

Unfortunately, things never truly goes his way, not when it comes to his personal life. So he really shouldn’t have been surprised to come home for dinner one night, only to find Harry and Merlin waiting for him in the living room, looking grimmer than they’ve ever been.

For a second, he thinks that it’s Kingsman-related, but they wouldn’t be home if it were.

“Eggsy, we have to talk.”

Those words are never about anything good and for a second, Eggsy nearly turns back and leaves. But whatever this is about there is no escaping this, not really.

Instead he takes a seat in front of them, resisting the impulse to sit next to them like he usually does. He doubts it will be of any comfort tonight, not with their closed-off expression.

“What’s up?” He asks when the silence stretches far too long even if he has some doubts as to what this is about. They’ve probably realised just how much he cares about them, just how much he gets out of simply being with them, and they’ve figured out it’s not something they actually want.

It sucks, because Eggsy had been sure they all had an understanding of some sort, but apparently he was mistaken.

Still as long as he can salvage their friendship, Eggsy can learn to live with the heartbreak.

“We need you to be honest with us lad,” it’s weird to hear Merlin sounds so hesitant, when he’s used to the man being his port in a storm, used to him being so unwaveringly confident. But there is no denying that something has rattled him and Eggsy’s stomach twist unpleasantly at the thought that the something could be them having figure out his true feelings. That they feel so differently about him that he would make them feel uncomfortable.

Before he can continue on that line of thought however, Harry finally starts speaking.

“It has come to our attention that you’re probably… Ace.”

For a long time Eggsy can only stare at the two men, at a loss for words.

Not because it’s not true, but because he doesn’t understand how they could have find out about it.

As far as he’s concerned, only Jason is in the know and he cannot think of any reason his friend would betray his confidence.

“Please forgive us if it wasn’t something you weren’t ready to share with us,” he hates how formal Harry sounds now, as if they are strangers or simple coworkers, but he still hasn’t found his voice again. “And if it wasn’t for the recent developments, we would be happy to pretend like we don’t know until you’re ready to tell us on your own. But… but Eggsy, darling, we need to know.”

At his side, Merlin nods in agreement and Eggsy can see how his knuckles has turned white where he grips the edge of the sofa he’s sitting on, as if he’s keeping himself from reaching out. Their impassive masks have cracked by now and he can only read worry in their eyes and something he cannot quite read. It looks like fear or maybe disgust, but it’s not aimed at him.

“When we invited you to stay home with us, we only wanted you to have a safe place. I won’t pretend it was also from a selfish desire to keep you close to us, but we would never force you into anything you don’t want to be a part of. Not knowingly.”

It clicks suddenly what the other emotion is. Self-loathing. No wonder it took him so long to place, when Harry and Merlin have never shown guilt or shame for the things they have been forced to do in their line of work.

But apparently, the thought that they might have hurt him or make him uncomfortable is completely unbearable to them and Eggsy simply cannot stay away from them any longer.

It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, not even the first time they’ve been huddled on the sofa together, but it’s the first time the two other men hesitate before wrapping him in their arms in return. His heart clench painfully at the thought that maybe whatever it is that was between them is irremediably broken now because of his secret.

But when they realise that their touch is welcomed, Harry and Merlin pull him closer so that he’s sitting properly between them and their hands all but cling to his polo shirt.

He hides his face against Merlin’s chest for a moment, feels Harry’s cheek come to on top of his head and he feels so safe and loved that he doesn’t want to move ever again.

But they’ve asked him a question and it is high time he answer.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m ace.” It’s weird saying it out loud for the first time. Even during his talks with Jason about it, he’s never really been able to say the word. Not to describe himself at least. “And you haven’t force me into anything I didn’t want. You haven’t even kissed me yet!”

It’s a good thing he’s still hiding, because he can feel his cheeks heat up after his little outburst. It’s not that he’s ashamed about wanting to kiss them, but they surely didn’t need to know how much he wants that.

“And we won’t if it’s not something you want.” Harry replies, completely missing his point.

Eggsy leans away from them a bit, not escaping their embrace but far away enough he could look at them and make his dismay entirely clear.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I want that?” Especially after the few times he’s caught Harry and Merlin kissing, it’s practically the only thing he can think of since he’s got no mission to distract him from his fantasies.

“We wouldn’t want to presume what you’re comfortable with or not.”

“Kissing is fine trust me. More than fine even.” He has fond memories of intense snogging session with his girlfriends when he was younger and figuring things out about himself. He very much want to create such memories with the two men. “And everything else is… Okay too.”

He could totally do without, would actually prefer it that way, but he’s sure that with Harry and Merlin, it would be enjoyable. They would make sure of it.

Or maybe not, because they both look absolutely appalled at the idea.

“No, Eggsy, we meant what Harry said. We don’t want to force you into anything you aren’t comfortable with. If you don’t want to have sex, we won’t, it’s that simple.”

“Oh.” There’s unmistakable relief rushing through him, but also a hint of disappointment. “I was kind of looking forward to watching you two together though.”

He’s blurt out the words before he could stop them and his cheeks are so hot he could probably cook an egg on them now.

Merlin and Harry both look surprised, but Harry recovers quickly, and he gives gets that calculating look Eggsy knows can only mean good things are in his future.

They say nothing else for a long time, Merlin tugging on Eggsy’s sleeve until he goes back to leaning against them and he lets himself bask in the knowledge that this is truly something they all want. That it isn’t simply a nice fantasy anymore.

“The same goes for honey pots, you know,” Merlin breaks the silence this time and Eggsy can only makes an interrogative sound, because he’s half-asleep by then. “We won’t make you go on them.”

“But I can do them!” His protests would probably be taken more seriously if his words weren’t so slurred by sleep and he wasn’t still snuggling between the two men, but he’s not leaving his little pocket of warmth for anything in the world.

“I am not implying that you can’t. You’ve proven already that you can carry it out if you have to. But what I am saying is that you don’t need to. And we’ll discuss it further when you’re not about to fall asleep.”

He wants to say that they can totally continue the conversation now, but Harry shortcircuits his brain by placing a small kiss on the sensitive skin just under his ear.

“We should get you to bed.”

“Yours?” He has to ask, because he really doesn’t want to give them up just yet, not when it feels like he’s just found them.

There is a slight pause, where he knows that if he were to look, Harry and Merlin would be having a conversation in looks alone. Then he feels the two men nod against him and Merlin’s lips brush his forehead.

“Yes, ours.”

[aion-rsa]

Best Horror Movies on Hulu

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Editor’s Note: This post is updated regularly. Bookmark this page and come back often to see the additions to the best horror movies on Hulu.

Updated for September 2020

Horror can come from anywhere: an unfamiliar European hostel, a remote sleepaway camp in the woods or even just in the comfy confines of the human brain. Every now and then it can be fun to reconnect with that child-like portion of our minds that is truly susceptible to irrational fear. The best way is to merely just hear a good scary story.

But perhaps the best place to find horror is on your friendly neighborhood Hulu. Hulu is best known for its TV comedy offerings but that doesn’t mean it’s lacking in pure terror.

Here is your list of the best horror movies on Hulu.

The Lodge

Directed by Austrian filmmakers Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala (the harrowing Goodnight Mommy), The Lodge stars an excellent Riley Keough as Grace, a troubled young woman in love with Richard (Richard Madden) a journalist who wrote a book about the suicide cult she once belonged to and is the only survivor of. Their relationship triggers Richard’s estranged wife (Alicia Silverstone) to commit suicide, leaving the former couple’s two children devastated.

Six months later, Richard, Grace and the children head up to Richard’s remote winter lodge in an effort for all of them to heal. But a series of unexplained events occur that may be tied to Grace’s past or the death of the children’s mother — or both. The Lodge may stumble occasionally through some shaky plot turns, but the movie positively reeks with dread and leads to a thoroughly unsettling finish.

Wounds

Based on a novella called The Visible Filth by acclaimed horror writer Nathan Ballingrud, this Hulu original stars Armie Hammer as Will, a New Orleans bartender whose discovery of an abandoned mobile phone in his place of business portends the arrival of an unspeakable evil.

British-Iranian director Babek Anvari, who made 2016’s supremely eerie Under the Shadow, creates an atmosphere of extreme dread and rot here, from the cockroaches Will is constantly killing behind the bar to the frightening images and sounds that keep appearing on the phone he finds. Much is left unexplained but that’s kind of the point: horror is often most effective when it can’t be rationalized.

Black Rock

Directed by Katie Aselton from a screenplay written by her husband, The Morning Show Emmy nominee Mark Duplass, Black Rock is a tense tale of three childhood friends whose attempts to reconnect as adults on a remote weekend retreat are thwarted by two men seeking vengeance over an accident.

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It’s a somewhat generic story elevated by the performances of Aselton herself, Kate Bosworth, and especially Lake Bell who goes full feral in the often brutal fight for survival. The movie benefits from the presence of all three women even if the scenario itself is one we’ve seen countless times before.

Ghost Stories

It’s rare for a horror film to be adapted from a play, but that’s the case for this anthology-style film written and directed by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, who also penned the stage show. Nyman stars as well as Philip Goodman, a professor who devotes his career to debunking the paranormal.

His mission is put to the test in the three stories presented within the film’s framework, which feature Martin Freeman (Black Panther), Paul Whitehouse and Alex Lawther as two men and a boy who come up against various spirits and even supposedly the Devil. Can Goodman prove them wrong even as reality itself seemingly begins to crumble around him? Find the answer by watching this acclaimed pic.

Friday the 13th Part 3

Not only was this 1982 slasher classic the first (and, to date, only) in the Friday the 13th series to be shown in 3D, it was also the movie in which unstoppable killer Jason Voorhees (Richard Brooker) donned his trademark hockey mask for the first time — creating one of horror’s most iconic images.

The plot finds another group of hapless teens venturing too close to the grounds of Camp Crystal Lake and falling prey to the hulking killing machine, who dispatches them in increasingly inventive and gruesome ways. That’s really all you get — and if you were lucky enough to see the movie in theaters, you got it in 3D. But you could do far worse (like, say, most of the succeeding entries in the franchise) if you’re looking to waste some time with a slasher flick.

Anna and the Apocalypse

The term “zombie musical” isn’t one you see thrown around very much, so this 2017 British feature might well have the genre all to itself. The cast of mostly unknown young actors, led by Ella Hunt in a star turn as Anna, sing, dance and fight their way through the title event — at Christmastime, no less.

Based on a short film by the late Ryan McHenry, the heartfelt Anna and the Apocalypse cites its influences as horror staples like The Evil Dead and Night of the Living Dead as well as classic musicals such as West Side Story, The Rocky Horror Picture Show and the “Once More, with Feeling” episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Midnighters

Midnighters is an excellent, tension-packed debut for screenwriter Alston Ramsay (who is also a former speechwriter for the Pentagon, weirdly).

Directed by Ramsay’s brother, Julius, Midnighters tells the story of a cover-up that becomes far more stressful than the crime. On New Year’s Eve, a struggling married couple strikes a pedestrian with their car. They opt to do the right thing and call the police. Lol/jk they opt to cover the crime and in the process begin a cycle of deceit, distrust, and madness.

Midnighters owes a lot of its success to Hitchcock, but then again – doesn’t virtually every thriller?

Mom and Dad

2017’s Mom and Dad has about the simplest and most terrifying premise one can imagine. You know your mom and dad – those two people who are supposed to support you through thick and thin? What if they…weren’t like that? What if they would stop and nothing to kill you?

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By David Crow

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That’s what young Carly and Josh Ryan experience one day when one day some unexplained static starts transmitting through they television and suddenly their loving parents desperately want to kill them. Mom and Dad would be unsettling enough with any cast, but having Nicolas Cage and Selma Blair portray the unhinged parents is just icing on the cake.

Overlord

War is terrifying enough as is. It doesn’t need the addition of Nazi super soldier zombies. Thankfully the J.J. Abrams-produced Overlord decided to include them anyway.

Overlord picks up on the eve of D-Day when a paratrooper quad is sent in behind enemy lines to destroy a German radio tower located in an old church. Their plane is shot down and only a handful survivors land. Those who do will soon discover that the horror has just begun.

Children of the Corn

Fun fact: Children of the Corn has eight sequels. Eight! That’s one big drawback of the horror genre. It’s so difficult to come up with an equally original and scary idea that once something sticks, it’s financially prudent to run it into the ground.

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Don’t let that keep you from watching the 1984 original Children of the Corn, however. The movie is based off of a Stephen King short story and follows a group of creepy kids and their adventures in ritualistic sacrifice. It’s a good time.

The Cabin in the Woods

A remote cabin in the woods is one of the most frequently occurring settings in all of horror. What better location for teenagers to be tormented by monsters, demons, or murderous hillbillies? Writer/Director Joss Whedon takes that tried and true setting and uses it as a jumping off points for one of the most successful metatextual horror movies in recent memory.

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Like you would expect, The Cabin in the Woods features five college friends (all representing certain youthful archetypes, of course) renting a….well, a cabin in the woods. Soon things begin to go awry in a very traditional horror movie way. But then The Cabin in the Woods begins doling out some of the many tricks it has up its sleeve. This is a fascinating, very funny, and yet still creepy breakdown of horror tropes that any horror fan can enjoy.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Pet Sematary (2019)

After the classic Stephen King novel of the same name and Mary Lambert’s 1989 movie, what could there possibly be left to say about Pet Sematary? Quite a lot actually! Directors Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer breathe new life into this old tale…not unlike a certain “sematary” itself.

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Jason Clarke stars as Louis Creed, an ER doctor from Boston who moves his family to rural Ludlow, Maine to live a quieter life. Shortly into their stay, Louis and his wife Rachel (Amy Semeitz) experience an unthinkable tragedy. That’s ok though as neighbor Jud Crandall (John Lithgow) knows a very peculiar place that can help.

The post Best Horror Movies on Hulu appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[creativitytoexplore]

Doors Opening on the Left by Raima Larter https://ift.tt/2zDWjfr Jason is a chemist specialising in racemization, a technique vital to defeat the lethal virus spreading across South America, but there are mysterious side-effects; by Raima Larter.

Jason boarded the train at the Medical Center Station, took a seat about halfway back from the door, and looked around. The usual morning crowd. Later, he would wonder why everything had seemed so normal that day, when it was anything but. He stifled a yawn and glanced at his phone. Nearly ten a.m. He'd been awake for over twenty-four hours. A melodic bonging came over the speaker and the train doors slid shut as a robotic female voice announced, "Doors closing." The train lurched into motion and Jason yawned again. He wanted, desperately, to be home, tucked into his own bed. Yes, his own empty bed, but that's the way it had been since he got this job, and how it was bound to stay. Who had time for dating? He hadn't even had friends over yet, despite having lived there for almost a year. For one thing, he had only the one chair, a pathetic frayed lawn chair he'd found discarded on a curb. No time for furniture-shopping, either. The chair sat next to his one other piece of furniture, a battered card table where he slurped down Cup o' Noodles every evening while streaming late-night talk shows on his laptop. Jason rubbed absent-mindedly at his bandaged left index finger. He'd cut it on a broken centrifuge tube a few hours before. No big deal, just a small amount of lost sample. After leaning his head against the window, he gazed at his reflection in the fogged-over glass. He looked tired, which made sense: he was tired after pulling another all-nighter, racing to get his part of the project finished before Dr. Murphy lost it. "The Director needs that data," she'd said as he'd left the lab that morning. She gave him her usual tight-lipped smile, but he knew what was behind it. "I'm sorry about the rush." He'd nodded and forced himself to smile politely (despite her lying). She wasn't sorry. Jason's team at the National Institute of Health was trying to develop a drug protocol to combat the Janusid virus. Janusid was spreading rapidly across South America, killing everything in its path. Like most viruses, Janusid attacked by injecting its DNA, coiled inside a hard protein shell, into an unwitting host. It had swept across the southern continent in less than a month, killing every person and animal it infected. So far, nothing had been found that could stop it. He'd already worked a string of ten-hour days, with a few eleven- or twelve-hour ones thrown in, and he almost had enough of the agent made. If the centrifuge tube hadn't broken, he might have even finished today. Now, the last test would have to wait until later, when his current batch had finished processing. The train jostled, picked up speed, and was soon soaring out of the tunnel and onto the above-ground section of the track. Morning sun slanted through the far window and across the car, producing a reflection of the passengers in the glass. In the reflection, a guy was seated up front in the handicapped-only seat. Jason hadn't noticed the man when he'd boarded the train. The man had a newspaper opened up, obscuring his face, and seemed intent on reading something. Jason scanned the backward print on the newspaper reflection, trying to decipher the headline. The letters were almost too small to read from where he sat, plus they were backward, of course. His gaze flitted back and forth, untangling first the word "Congress," and then a word that looked like "Legislation." That was when he noticed the girl. He hadn't seen her before either, but there she suddenly was, seated next to the guy with the newspaper. She caught his eye and smiled. He looked toward her, planning to nod good morning, but the handicapped seat was empty. No girl. No guy with a newspaper. Jason looked quickly back toward the window, trembling now. The reflection hadn't changed: the attractive girl was still there, next to the newspaper guy. The girl grinned at him again, and nudged her elbow into the man. The newspaper guy folded down a corner of his paper and peered around it at Jason. The man nodded at the girl, then folded the newspaper into a small rectangle, tucked it into a briefcase and stood, grabbing hold of a silvery metal pole. He swayed as the train rumbled down the tracks. The girl scooted forward on her seat, as if preparing to stand. All the while, Jason's heart beat faster and faster. After a couple of minutes, the train slowed, brakes squealing, rocking side to side as they pulled into the next station. A bong came over the intercom. "Doors opening on the left." Hairs spiked to attention on the back of Jason's neck. He focused intently on the reflected image of the two people. He didn't want to look away, but quickly glanced toward the handicapped seat. Still nothing. No man grasping the strap, no girl getting up from her seat. Jason leapt to his feet and leaned to peer at the reflection in the window. There they were, both of them, the man and the girl. Jason tried to keep the images in view, but the two mirror-image people were stepping off the train and onto the mirror-image platform. A bonging sound came over the intercom. "Doors closing." Jason bolted for the door. He jumped out as the doors slid closed behind him. He looked around at the empty platform. No man. No girl. No sounds but for the hum of the idling train and the distant murmur of traffic. He looked back toward the train. A woman in a torn knit hat stared at him through the glass, frowning. She was surrounded by empty seats, the only person in the car. As the train pulled away, Jason became aware of pressure in his bandaged finger. He yanked the gauze and tape off, revealing what had once been a tiny cut. Now his entire finger was an angry, throbbing red. He stared at the pulsating wound for a long moment, a strange tingly warmth creeping up his left arm. The sight of his hand mesmerized him and he was unable to look away. It didn't seem like his own hand. He saw it there, at the end of his arm, but it seemed the hand belonged to someone else. He was so focused on that weird hand that he startled and jumped back when the next train pulled into the station. Jason shook his head to clear his panicky thoughts, and boarded the train. This time, he checked the reflection in the glass first, to make sure no more odd people were there this time. Wherever "there" was.

The next day, after he'd slept a solid fifteen hours, Jason headed back to the lab. As he made his way to the building from the Metro station, he thought about the strange mirror-image people from the day before. Clearly a hallucination. Probably induced by sleep-deprivation or deep fatigue and overwork. His injured finger had stopped throbbing and seemed to be healing. He unwrapped the bandage and checked again. The cut was small, nothing at all really. Nevertheless, when he got in, he changed the dressing using the lab's first aid kit, just to be sure it kept healing. He got to work, preparing what he hoped was his last batch of racemization agent. On his way to the cold room, he ran into David. "Hey," Jason said. "How's it going?" David, another tech from the lab down the hall, wore his usual red bandana, tied around his head in an attempt to cover his thinning hair. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his somewhat grubby lab coat. "It's going," he said. "Get your magic stuff made?" "Almost. I thought I'd have it last night, but the vial broke just as I was removing the sample from the centrifuge." He held up his bandaged left finger as he yanked the cold room door open with his other hand. "Lost a whole day." David followed Jason into the refrigerated space. "Do you think Murphy will make you lead author this time?" Jason snorted. "Hardly. You know a lab head would never make a tech lead author. I'll be lucky if she puts my name on the paper at all." Jason had lost track of how many days he'd shuttled between the exhaust hood, the cold room, the centrifuge, and the mass spec, all the while trying to make enough racemization agent, the substance that would not only defeat Janusid but secure him at least co-authorship. Jason had never been lead author on any scientific paper, and he didn't want to believe it could happen this time - but, the truth was, it could happen this time. Racemization was Jason's specialty, after all. Give him any polymeric substance, even a protein coating like that on a virus, and he could reverse its stereochemistry and crack the thing open like an egg. The trick was to create the right stereoisomer of a substance that could bind to the polymer and create its mirror-image - a molecule with the same formula but a mirror-reversed structure. If you could hold the result up to a tiny molecular-sized mirror, its reflection would be identical to the original. That afternoon, when Jason found that the last batch of racemization agent was ready, he tested it, as he always did, on a sample of the virus. He was careful to use the clean-room protocols, necessary to prevent accidental infection. They weren't one-hundred percent effective, but they were the best the industry offered. The results looked promising, so he hurried down the hallway to Murphy's office. She was seated at her desk, tapping rapidly at her keyboard. The desk was piled high with toppling stacks of paper. Her sleeves were rolled above her wrists as she frowned through her glasses at the computer screen. He knocked on the doorjamb. "Dr. Murphy?" She flinched back, her hands still hovering over the keyboard. When she saw him, her eyes widened and one hand flew to her chest. "Jason!" She laughed nervously. "I didn't hear you come in. What can I do for you?" He waved the printout from his final test toward her. "That last batch seemed to do the trick. Results look perfect." She brought her hands to her face and leaned back in the chair. "Thank God," she said, then laughed. "Or thank you, I guess." She walked around the desk and peered at his printout. "This looks fantastic. I was just about to go to the All Hands meeting - the director is going to be thrilled." She plucked her lab coat from a hook on the wall and headed for the door, then turned back to him. "Coming?" Jason grinned and followed her through the hallways, down an elevator and into the large auditorium. Several hundred scientists, most clad in white lab coats, were already there. Dr. Murphy took a seat next to another lab head, but Jason went to the row of chairs pushed up against the wall. Every chair along the wall was occupied by techs and low-level staff. He knew the protocol. He knew where the peons sat and he also knew that no one who sat in a wall chair had ever had lead authorship on a paper. If you reached that level of accomplishment, you'd not only get first authorship, you'd get your own lab. You'd be someone like Dr. Murphy, not someone like Jason. David was already there and lifted his eyebrows as Jason sat down next to him. "So? Did you do it?" Jason tried to suppress his smile, but it didn't work. "Yep," he said, pulling out a small notebook and a pen. David broke into a huge grin. "Awesome. If this doesn't get you first authorship, nothing will." Jason shook his head as he flipped to a blank page in the notebook. "Well, nothing will then. You know as well as I she's not going to do it." He scribbled the date at the top of the page, followed by "All Hands Mtg," and prepared to take notes. Dr. Murphy turned toward Jason and David and smiled, waving the printout he'd given her in the air. Jason knew she would, as she always did, claim that "her lab" had achieved the desired outcome. She would claim his results as hers. She might name him, or even thank him when she got a turn to speak, but that was all the acknowledgment he was likely to get. After all, Murphy knew the protocol, too. Jason tried to squash the flare of jealousy. Without Dr. Murphy, he would not even be here. She had been the one to come up with the idea, and she had been the one to persuade the scientific board, the big-wigs who sat at the table at the front of the auditorium, that her lab should be allowed to try this approach. The Director himself sat at the table at the front. He wore a suit, unlike most of the people in the room. Next to him sat his Deputy, tapping a pen nervously on the table and glancing repeatedly at his cell phone. At the table were several other people Jason knew only by their photos on the agency website. Every one of them had a title with at least four words in it: Assistant Director of Something-Or-Other. After the Director called the meeting to order, he asked Murphy to come forward. She approached the microphone that had been set up in the aisle next to the wall chairs. "As I explained in our last All Hands meeting," Dr. Murphy said into the mic, "changing the stereochemistry of the virus coating should make it vulnerable to attack by a standard anti-viral." She turned to look at the auditorium full of scientists. "Many people in this room could help with that second step." She smiled, and held up the sheaf of papers Jason had given her. "I'm happy to report that my group has succeeded in developing a racemization reagent that will crack open the protein coating on Janusid." She waved the papers and smiled more broadly. "Our results are very promising. Preliminary tests show that we've done it. It works!" Jason gripped the pen so hard his hand ached. He scribbled furiously. "My group," and "our results," and "we've done it." David nudged him with an elbow. "Hey man," he whispered. "Since when did you become left-handed?" Jason stared at the pen, gripped tightly in his left hand. He'd been right-handed his entire life, so why - and how - was he now writing with his left? His bandaged finger began to throb and that tingly warmth crept up his arm again. He clenched his fist so hard his fingernails bit into his palm. He wanted to jump up and shout that he was the one who had succeeded, not some nebulous "we" that Murphy gave all the credit to, but he shoved both his hands beneath his thighs and clamped his teeth together. David kept giving him odd looks, but Jason refused to meet his gaze. The Director leaned back in his chair, index fingers steepled together. He was silent for a moment, swiveling back and forth, one toe pressed to the floor. It took only a few seconds for him to swivel to his Deputy and say, "Let's do it." Only then did Dr. Murphy turn toward Jason, smiling. David stood up quickly and reached to shake his hand. "Congratulations," he said. "I guess." The tingly warmth surged up Jason's left arm and into his chest as David pumped his right hand up and down. The tingle squeezed Jason's heart as if it were caught in the grip of a giant python. He tried to say thanks to David, but all that came out was an unrecognizable growl. Dr. Murphy fought her way through a crowd of people gathered around the Director's table. "Jason! There you are. We've just been given our marching orders. We'll need a large batch of your reagent asap." She gave him a sympathetic look. "The other labs are ready to move to Phase Two as soon as we can supply them with the racemization agent. I know you've been working really hard already, but we need to double our efforts now." David stepped between Dr. Murphy and Jason. "I can help. Just show me how to make the stuff, and we can do it together." Dr. Murphy smiled broadly. "Why thank you," she said, and turned to look around the room. "Let me just check with your boss to make sure it's okay -" "Oh, it's okay," David said. "I'm not working on anything important at the moment." She pressed her lips together and nodded. "Jason can show you the protocol, but if you don't mind, I'll just double-check with your boss. Don't want to step on any toes, you know." She gave him a tight smile. Jason and David spent the rest of the week preparing a large batch of racemization agent. Late Thursday night, they put the last portion in the drying oven. "There," Jason said. "Now we just wait thirty minutes or so and we'll be done." David yawned widely. "I'm beat. Want some coffee?" Jason glanced at the clock on the wall. "I doubt the cafeteria is still open." "There are those machines downstairs," David said, already heading for the door. They pounded down the metal steps, round and round the stairwells, and made their way to the basement vending machine room. Soon, they were seated at a battered white table, sipping at paper cups of coffee. "Gah," David said, making a face. "This stuff is awful." Jason laughed and reached for his cup. "It was your suggestion." David gestured at Jason's bandaged finger. "What did you do to your hand?" Jason shook his head. "Nothing. Just a broken vial a few days ago." David sipped, staring at Jason for a long moment. "Was that before or after you suddenly became left-handed?" Jason sat back in his chair. "What -?" "What's going on, dude? You've been doing everything in the lab with your left hand all week. I'm certain you were right-handed before." Jason sighed. "Okay. Something happened. I don't know what it was, but it may have been related to this cut. I may have got some racemization agent in it." He gave him a weak smile. "Either that or I got infected by the virus." David shook his head. "Not possible. You'd be dead by now." "No kidding." He wanted to tell David about all of it - the mirror-image people on the train, the wave of energy he sometimes felt pulsing up his arm - but he didn't dare. "Obviously it wasn't the virus," David said, sipping at the coffee again, "But if it was your reagent, that might explain some things." "What do you mean?" "You know - it racemizes things, right? Maybe you got some of it into your finger and it racemized the molecules in your hand." "Oh come on - so that would make me left-handed instead of right-handed?" David shrugged. "Maybe." He gazed silently at Jason for a full minute. "So, did you report it?" "Report what?" "The broken tube, the possible contamination - you know the rules." Jason sighed. "I didn't have time. You know how long those reports take. Besides, it would slow everything down and we just don't have time for that kind of crap right now." David downed the last of his coffee. "Did you ever see that show about the dude who started cooking meth? Heisenberg or something." "Yeah. Wasn't he a high school chem teacher?" "Yep. Lower than the low." David paused, not meeting Jason's gaze. "Do you think we all have it in us to go bad like that?" "Sure, maybe. I - I don't know." What was David accusing him of? "You know, like there's someone in you who's actually evil and something happens to spring it free." "Like Dr. Jekyll? Or, wait - was it Mr. Hyde that was the bad guy?" David laughed. "Dude, it's always the scientist that's mad." By Friday afternoon, they were nearly finished, and Dr. Murphy told Jason he could leave early. "You and David have done a great job, Jason," she said. "Time to get some rest. You look tired." Her words surprised him. He'd had plenty of sleep and he felt great. Better than he'd felt in years, actually. "I look tired?" "You do." She clapped him on the left shoulder, which sent a jarring sensation down his arm and into his hand. His bandaged finger throbbed with a tingly warmth. "I wouldn't doubt," she said, "you'll need a few days to get caught up on your sleep." "You're probably right." He knew he should talk to her about writing up their results, ask her what the chances were that he would get first authorship, but instead he grabbed his jacket and turned away. "See you Monday?" he asked, the flare of anger sweeping through his entire body. "Sure thing," she said, her attention distracted again by the printout of his latest results. She didn't even seem to see him standing there, so he turned and left, nearly colliding with David on his way out. "Leaving so soon?" David asked, holding a tray of centrifuge tubes. "Murphy sent me home." He nodded at the tray. "I assume you can finish up?" "Sure thing. See if you can get some sleep, man. You look awful." Jason gave him a weak smile, left the building and was soon ascending the escalator to the Metro platform. As luck would have it, the train was pulling into the station. He boarded the nearly-empty train, which seemed as normal as it had all week. He slid into a window seat and turned to gaze at the glass. He could see himself reflected there again. He inspected his mirror-reversed self. He looked like he always looked in photos, but there seemed to be something new there - a darkness in his eyes. Maybe it was the fatigue Dr. Murphy had noticed, but it struck him as sinister. He looked away. The train car was completely empty - it was only three o'clock, not yet rush hour. When he glanced back at the window, he saw them: the man with the newspaper and the girl seated beside him, both of them, again, in the handicapped-only seat. Jason quickly swiveled his head, looking for the pair in the flesh, but they weren't there. Of course. He looked back at the glass. The girl smiled at him and lifted a hand in a little wave, then held her index finger upward. She looked at her own finger, lifted her eyebrows at him, and nudged her elbow into the man with the newspaper. He lowered the paper and peered at Jason. A smile crossed the man's face and the two of them, the man and the girl, began to laugh. It was a silent laugh, no sound. Jason's reflection, his doppelganger, lifted his hand. In the reflection, his previously-bandaged left finger had somehow become unbandaged - but only in the reflection. Jason stared at his hands lying in his lap, the bandage still in place. He looked at the window again. The doppelganger's angry-red finger pointed upward. Jason could almost see it throbbing, but he felt no pain in the hand that lay motionless in his lap. The doppelganger made eye contact with Jason. It wasn't at all like Jason seeing himself in the mirror. It was another person there, a person who looked just like him, but reversed. The doppelganger stood and moved quickly toward the door. A great force pulled on Jason's chest, as if his heart was trying to escape from his ribcage. He realized what it was: this mirror-self, the one in the glass, was trying to pull him into the mirror-reversed world, and it seemed to be succeeding. Jason felt as if he was being torn in half. The man in the handicapped seat folded the newspaper and held it out toward Jason. The headline was, as before, completely backward, but said something different this time. Jason struggled against the force tugging at him and tried to decipher the jumble of letters, "!SUOIROTCIV DISUNAJ :NOW ELTTAB TSRIF" This must be a clue about what was happening to him, but what in the world did it mean? The girl stood up. Jason thought about his empty bed at home, that forlorn mattress on the floor. He thought about what he thought he'd wanted - first authorship on a paper - and it seemed, suddenly, to mean nothing at all to him. This place, these weird mirror people - they had something to do with the virus. Jason was sure of it. He didn't know how he was sure - he just was. The man with the newspaper waved it at Jason, pointing to the headline. The girl smiled at Jason and, more than he'd ever wanted anything, he wanted to be with this girl. Jason knew he didn't really want the girl; it was the doppelganger that wanted her. He knew that the small cut on his finger was, somehow, involved with this desire, but was it really like a Mr. Hyde inside him was taking over? Maybe David was right. Maybe the racemization agent had affected his body. The tingly warmth was seeping through his entire body and he'd never felt such pleasure. The man with the newspaper stood, folded his mirror-reversed paper into a small rectangle and tossed it onto the seat. The three - girl, newspaper man, and doppelganger - stepped to the door. It slid open and they exited the train. Jason, shaking, watched them go. His energy drained away, as if the doppelganger was stealing his life force. The three stood on the platform as the train began to move. In small jerking motions it accelerated, then entered the tunnel, blocking out the light that had created those images in the glass. Jason twisted in his seat and looked toward the handicapped seat. Nothing. No people, and no newspaper. Jason felt the tingly warmth drain away, and he was left with only the usual despair of his life. His arms went limp, but as the train rumbled down the track, his energy began to return, as if he was somehow reeling in the tendrils of life energy the doppelganger had tried to steal from him. When he got home and unlocked his door, the sight of that frayed lawn chair and his collection of empty Cup o' Noodles containers nearly deflated him again. But he sat down and began scribbling letters from memory, trying to figure out what the backward newspaper had said. It took him awhile to remember the jumbled headline, but when he did, he realized it was simply backward words: FIRST BATTLE WON: JANUSID VICTORIOUS! By the time he made it to bed, thoroughly exhausted, he knew what he had to do. The next day, Saturday, he returned to the cold room and retrieved a vial of the racemization agent and a box of syringes. As he walked out into the hallway, there was David, who nodded at the things in Jason's hands. "What're you doing?" Jason trembled, wanting to tell him everything, but how could he explain this? "Listen. I need you to help me with something." David frowned. "Sure, man. Anything." Jason hurried back into the lab, David on his heels, and rummaged through a drawer for a sticky note pad. He scribbled a phone number on it and shoved the pad toward David. "If something happens to me, I need you to call my parents. Tell them - well, that this was the only way I knew to beat Janusid. Tell them that." Jason grabbed the syringes and the racemization agent and sprinted toward the hallway. "I don't understand," David yelled behind him. "What are you talking about?" Jason ran to the Metro station and waited impatiently for the train. When it finally arrived, he boarded, the train took off, exited the tunnel and, soon, a beam of light slanted across the car. And then there they were as before, the man and the girl. Both of them gave him a curious look. They seemed almost frightened. The man had a newspaper - as usual. He held it up toward Jason. Bold letters, all backward, stretched across the page. Jason laughed as he quickly deciphered it, not even needing pencil and paper this time: "ENEMY ENGAGED: MASSIVE CASUALTIES EXPECTED." Jason might never get credit for what he was about to do, but so be it. Not getting credit seemed the least of his concerns now, considering he might not ever get back. He pulled out the first syringe and injected his left upper arm. A burst of energy surged into his shoulder and through his body. If his magic stuff, the racemization agent, could mirror-reverse a protein coating, what might it do to a whole body in the mirror image world? He could feel it working. He gazed at his reflection in the glass and then, as if merely taking a step forward, he was on the other side, looking back at himself. Jason believed in the empirical approach, and the only thing left to do was try it. He had two more syringes in the bag, already prepared. Janusid might think it knew how to beat them, but it had never tangled with someone like Jason. The robotic voice came over the intercom: Doors opening on the left. The girl and the man rushed out to the mirror-image platform. Jason and his doppelganger reached into the bag, pulled out the remaining syringes and, holding one in each hand, leaped through the doors, in hot pursuit of them.

[filmfanatic82]

Anything... (Chapt 12)

AO3 link (HERE)

Chapter 12

“Any last words?”

Trini stares up at Tommy’s icy, emerald eyes as she feels his hands wrap even tighter around her throat.

“Yeah.” Trini makes a quick shift of her hips, freeing up one of her legs and then swiftly brings her knee upwards with as much force as she can humanly muster, delivering a semi-deadly blow to Tommy’s groin. “Fuck off.”

Tommy instantly releases his grip on Trini’s neck and rolls over onto his side, curling himself up into a ball as the painful aftershock of the blow washes over him.

Trini seizes the opportunity to scramble back up onto her feet and immediately places a bit of room between herself and Tommy.

“You bitch.” Tommy spats out in venomous angry growl as he slowly rises up, still not 100% recovered from the blow. “You’ll pay for that.”

“I’d like to see ya try, Asswipe,” Trini fires back, flashing one of her signature cocky smirks.

Trini knows she’s playing with fire, but it’s the only way... The only way she knows how to do what she needs to do.

She has to get closer to Tommy without getting herself pinned down in the process. A seemingly impossible task when she lacks not only the ability to tap into her body armor but also has barely any super human strength left.

But it’s the only way she’ll have even the remotest of chance of surviving the blast.

“You know, I’m really going enjoy killing you.”

“And I’m really gonna enjoy kickin’ your ass. Now we gonna fight, or are we just gonna stand here and insult each other? Cause for some big, evil mastermind, you really--”

Bingo.

“Aaaaah!” Tommy screams out as he charges towards Trini at full force.

Trini juts her hand deep into the collar of her shirt and fishes out a small electronic device from a chain around her neck. She flips open the safety latch and activates it. The device instantly comes to life, emitting a glowing blue aura on the surrounding areas of her shirt.

Trini hovers her finger over the trigger button as she watches Tommy race forward.

5...4...3...2...   

BAM.

Tommy plows into Trini a mere millisecond too soon, send both her and the device flying.

Trini hits the ground with a mind-numbing THUD as her head ricochets against a small pile of rocks. A steady stream of blood starts to flow freely from the point of impact on the scalp, making it’s way down the side of her face.

Shit...Shit...Shit...

The device. Where’ the freakin’ device?

Gotta find the device before it’s too--

CRACK.

A sickening, white hot pain suddenly shoots down the length of Trini’s right arm as she feels her humerus bone snap in two under the weight of Tommy’s foot.

“Going somewhere?” Tommy asks with an underlying evilish glee to his voice. He presses down his foot even harder on Trini’s arm, grinding in it in the process.

“You wish,” Trini manages to spit out through gritted teeth as she fights back the tears with every last ounce of strength that she have left within her.

Trini refuses to cry. Even if Tommy grounds her broken bones down into nothing but splintery shards, she won’t cry.

She won’t give him that satisfaction. No. Scratch that. She flat out refuses.

Even if this is truly it. Trini will go down in the same way that she’s spent the majority of her life… fighting.

Trini glances up at Tommy’s towering body looming above her and suddenly she notices--

THE POWER COINS.

Or at least the outline what appears to be the coins. Haphazardly tucked away in Tommy’s inner coat pocket.

Trini looks closer and swears she can see the faint glow of yellow pulsate through the thin lining of the coat pocket. And that’s all the motivation she needs.

With one swift motion, Trini wrenches her free arm upwards, dislocating her other-- already broken-- arm in the process, grabs hold of the edge of Tommy’s inner coat pocket, and rips it open.

Thrown off by the sudden move, Tommy stumbles backwards, releasing his foot from Trini’s arm.

All of the power coins -- including the green one -- spill out from the confines of his coat, randomly scatting amongst the rubble on the floor below.

“What the--”

But before Tommy even has time to finish his sentence, let alone act, Trini scrambles over to the yellow power coin, grabbing it for dear life.

And suddenly--

Strength.

Trini can feel the raw, unfiltered energy flow through her veins and god, does it feel amazing.

The energy works it’s way towards her injured arm and like a bolt of lightning, jump starts the healing process.  

This might not be the end after all.

Trini slowly rises to her feet, locks eyes with Tommy, and without even a hint of a flinch, grabs hold of her injured arm and pops it back into place. “You were sayin’?”

“Little Yellow found her coin again. So now what? You’re going to go run off to your Rangers and your precious Zordon?” Tommy re-gains his footing but there’s a new unsteadiness to his voice.  A slight twinge of unsureness that wasn’t there before.

A small smirk spreads across Trini’s lips as the realization sinks in--

She has the upper hand.

Yes, Trini still doesn’t have a clear way out. Or the--

A flicker of faint blue light catches the corner of Trini’s eye. The same exact light that had sprung to life when she had activated the device.

Trini whips her head in the direction of the light and instantly spots the device. It’s half buried under a pile of rubble, but it’s still pulsating.  

Sweet fuckin’ jesus… yes!

Trini’s eyes dart back to Tommy and is hit with the sudden, gut-churning realization that--

He’s seen the device as well.

Without another moment's hesitation, Trini throws herself in the general direction of the device, falling into a full body slide.

Tommy follows suit, throwing himself at the device as well, only a mere fingertips behind Trini.

Shit… Shit… Shit…

Trini pushes her hand to stretch out as far as humanly possible, as a steady stream of rocks and debris cut into every ounce of her flesh.

C’mon… C’mon… C’mon…

Just a few more inches…

Trini’s fingers connect with the edge of the device and instantaneously wrap themselves around it with a death-like grip. Her thumb moves into position, right over the trigger and then with a hard, swallow of determination--

She pushed the button.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Darkness.

Complete and utter darkness.

But this darkness isn’t death. Not like Trini would know what that’s like… Billy maybe? But no, not her.

No, this darkness is more like a really dark pair of sunglasses. Or like their--

Trini’s hands grope upwards towards her face, only to serendipitously discover that it’s covered by the visor of her suit.

Holy shit… She’s in her suit.

She’s alive and in her suit. It’s nothing short of a fuckin’ mircale.

Alive…

Trini lets out a long sigh of relief as her armor slowly dissipated back into her skin. She pushes herself up off of the ground, getting her first good look at her surroundings.

Random clouds of debris laden smoke. Check. Even more mountainous piles of rubble. Check. Blackened char marks outlining the radius of the blast. Check.

But one thing’s clearly missing…

There’s no body.

“What the fuck?” Trini whispers to herself as she does a quick 360. There’s no traces or signs whatsoever of where Tommy could’ve gone to.

No footprints. No trails of blood. Nothing.

Trini cautiously takes a step forward, with the intend to investigate further, but then comes to a sudden halt.

There in the dead center of the blast radius sits--

THE GREEN POWER COIN.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Master Trini! Master Trini! You’re alive!” Alpha 5 chirps with unabashed excitement as he races across the morphing grid to greet Trini.

Trini slowly makes her way into room, dripping wet from the swim and now sporting a makeshift sling around her injured arm. Even with her powers fully restored, she’s still looks pretty rough around the edges with a wide array of cuts and bruises peppering her body.  

Billy, Jason, and Zack immediately all look up towards the entrance way and matching expressions of relief mixed with utter joy spread across their faces. Each one appears to have aged a decade-- if not more -- over the last 48hrs.

“What? Thought you wouldn’t see me again?” Trini produces a cocky smirk in an attempt to lighten up the situation.

The three boys rush towards Trini at full force, unable to contain themselves.

“Crazy Girl!” Zack scoops Trini up into his arms, slightly oblivious to her injured, and gives her a bone-crushing squeeze.

“Jesus. Good to see you too, dude. But easy,” Trini replies through semi-gritted teeth as she winces in pain. “Still not 100%.”

Zack immediately eases up his death grip on Trini. “Sorry. It’s just…”

“I know.” Trini gives Zack an all knowing look and a warm smile.

“God, it’s so good to see you,” Jason says while taking his turn to hug Trini.

“You too, man.”

“How’d you do it?” Billy eagerly asks unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

“Well for starters, this helped.” Trini digs into her pocket and pulls out her yellow power coin. “I was able to steal it back from Tommy before setting off the device. My armor saved my ass from the blast.”

“How about the rest of--” Billy starts to ask but before he can even finish his sentence, Trini produces the rest of the power coins.

“Come to Papa,” Zack jokingly exclaims as Trini tosses each one of them their coins.

“And there’s this,” Trini carefully pulls out the green power coin and holds it up for the others to see.

“Dude... There’s another one?”

“Yeah. Tommy had it. But guessing it had something to do with Rita.”

Jason steps forward to take a closer look at the coin as he furrows his brows deep in thought. “We should run some tests on it. Make sure it’s at least safe for us to handle. Billy, can you--”

“On it. I can run a basic diagnostic scan, but the rest will have to wait until after I get Zordon back online.” Billy eagerly snatches up the green coin from Trini’s hand and without another word, heads over to one of the control panels with Alpha 5 hot on his heels.

Jason takes a moment simply just to watch Billy with pure adoration and then turns his attention back to Trini. “So what happened to Tommy?”

“Gone.”

“Whoa. Gone like as in nothin’ but Tommy bits all over gone?”

“No, idiot.” Trini gives Zack a swift playful slap in the shoulder with her good hand. “I mean gone as in nothing. No traces or anything.”

“You think he survived?” Jason quietly pipes up looking slightly lost within his own thoughts.

“Dunno.” Trini gives a light shrug of her shoulders, not really knowing how to explain it. “I set off the device and when I came to, there was no sign of him. Just the coin.”

Jason gives a nod in response, letting this information fully sink in. He takes a sobering breath and then, “Well, let’s talk to Zordon when Billy gets him back on up and go from there. Think it’s safe to say, though, that even if he did survive, he won’t be doing much of anything any time soon. Especially without that coin.”

“Sure,” Trini replies letting a slight awkwardness fall between them. She absentmindedly pulls out the last power coin from her pocket with her good hand and starts to trace it’s neon pink center with her fingers.

The pink power coin... Kimberly’s pink power coin.

Trini’s dying-- No. Scratch that. Is there a word that stronger than dying?  If there is, than that’s what she is at the moment.  

Every inch of her entire being is craving just to even know if Kimberly is okay, let alone to be in her presence once again.

After all that has transpired in the last 48 hours, Trini wants nothing than to just curl up, deep into her girlfriend’s arms and forget about life for a while.

But is she still even her girlfriend anymore?

Hell, is she even okay?  

No, the boys would have told her by now if it wasn’t the case.  If Kimberly hadn’t have made it--

“She’s okay,” Jason softly says, snapping Trini out of her train of thought.

“Huh?”

Jason gives a slight head nod towards the power coin in Trini’s hand. “Kimberly. She’s okay. Well, as okay as she can be. Tommy did a real number on her. We had to sedate her shortly after Zack brought her back. She was hell bent on going after you. Took both me and Zack to hold her down.”

“Can I see her?” Trini asks with a hint of a tremble to her voice.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jason responds with his signature fatherly smile. He wraps his arm around Trini’s shoulder and then gently steers her in the direction of the med bay.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini lingers in the doorway of the med bay, unable to will herself to enter. Her eyes are locked in on one thing and one thing only…

Kimberly.

Kimberly peacefully sleeps in one of the bed, covered head to toe with a fresh set of bandages.

“The drugs should’ve worn off by now,” Jason states as he joins Trini in the doorway. “She took another bad blow to her head, but according to Alpha 5, there’s no permanent damage.”

“Right,” Trini mumbles, shifting a bit from foot to foot.

God, how Trini just wants to race over towards the bed, wrap her arms around Kim, and never let her go… but there’s an overwhelming and powerful fear, growing deep down inside of her, that’s currently overriding her ability to move.

All she can do is stare…

Suddenly, Trini feels the warmth of Jason’s hand against her shoulder, as it give her a light but reassuring squeeze.

“Go get your girl.”

Trini manages to give Jason a small nod in return and then, with a all the courage she can muster, makes her way across the room towards Kimberly. She sidles herself up to the bed, being extra precautious not to bump or jostle anything.

“Hey Beautiful.” Trini reaches out and gently strokes Kimberly’s hair, carding her fingers through her wavy raven locks.

Kimberly’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Trini’s voice. A hazy smile stretches across her pale pink lips as her tootsie roll eyes focus in on the sight before her. “Trini?”

“That’s my name,” Trini responds with a slight hint of loving sarcasm to her voice. She matches Kimberly’s smile, trying her best to hold back the flood of tears brimming in her eyes.

“Oh my god! Trini! You’re… You’re…,” Kimberly can’t seem to spit her words out fast enough. She springs upwards, completely ignoring her wide array of injuries, and throws her arms around Trini, engulfing her in an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m here,” Trini whispers back into the crook of Kimberly’s neck. She deeply inhales, letting Kimberly distinct scent of lavender mixed with a hint of vanilla invade every inch her body with a calm, soothing presence.

“I thought… I thought…” Kimberly chokes out in between sobs as tears fall freely down her cheeks.  

“Shhh. I know. But I’m okay. Promise. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

And with that, Trini can no longer hold back her tears. They rain down her cheeks as well, as wave after wave of emotions crash down upon her her.

After a moment or two, Trini lifts her head up out of the safe confines of Kimberly’s neck and swallows back the ever growing lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

A somewhat stunned expression sweeps across Kimberly’s face as her registers Trini’s words. She holds Trini out at arm’s length, taking a good long look at her. “Trini?”

But Trini can’t bring herself to look Kimberly in the eyes. Instead she focuses in on her beat up converse, as the tear keep on coming. There’s simply no way to stop them now that they’ve started.

“Trini, look at me,” Kimberly states as she reaches out and gently cups Trini’s chin with hand, gliding it upwards until they are once again eye to eye.

Oh god, those eyes.

How those rich, chocolate brown eyes can say and do so much with just one singular glance.

Trini could get lost in those eyes forever…

“I love you.” Kimberly smiles through her tears. “And nothing is going to change that. Okay?”

“Okay.” Trini responds with a similar look of pure, undiluted adoration.

“Good. Now get your ass in here.” Kimberly scoots over on the bed, making room for Trini and holds up the blanket. “Cause I want to cuddle with my girlfriend.”

Trini carefully crawls up into the bed, falling comfortably into Kimberly’s body. She lets her head collapse down onto the pillow as she feels Kimberly’s arms wrap around her waist.

“I love you too, Beautiful.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Trini…” Kimberly playfully whines as she moves slightly out of reach of Trini’s lips. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am,” Trini mumbles as she hones back on in on Kimberly’s pulse point, peppering it with an array of kisses. “I’m... studying... the... human... anatomy….”

“God, you’re such a cheeseball.”

“Me? Please. I’m nuthin’ in comparison to you, Princess.” Trini flashes Kimberly a devilish smirk and then with a sudden burst of playful energy, grabs hold of Kimberly’s waist and flips them over on the bed, straddling Kimberly in the process.

“Oh really?” Kimberly looks up at Trini, matching her smirk.

“Really,” Trini replies. She sits back on her legs, allowing herself a moment or two to fully take in the view before her and as she does, a singular thought flashes into her mind...

God, how she worships the goddess of a woman before her.

Sure, Trini has known -- almost from their first encounter in the quarry -- that she loves Kimberly. That’s always been a given.

But through the course of events over the last few days, that sense of love has turned into something much more deeper. Something seemingly unbreakable.

After a few hours of much needed rest and healing, they had gone back to Trini’s house in an attempt to smooth things over with Trini’s mom. And when things went south once again, it had been Kimberly, who swooped in, and pulled Trini out of there.

And it had been Kimberly, who requested. No. Scratch that. Demanded that her parents take Trini in. And of course, they did with open arms… and maybe a few minor ground rules as well.

Yes, Trini knows that there’s still a lot to figure out, but for the first time in a long while, she feels completely and utterly safe.

“Whatcha thinking?” Kimberly asks as Trini snaps out of her thoughts.

“Nuthin’,” Trini playfully replies as she grabs a hair tie from her around her wrist and pulls her hair up into a messy bun, exposing her severely overgrown undercut.

Kimberly takes one good look at Trini’s hair and without another moment’s hesitation, sits up and scoots herself out from underneath Trini.

“Where are you going?”

But Kimberly doesn’t respond. She simply disappears out of her bedroom and then returns a moment later, clippers in hand. She grabs her desk chair and flips it around. “Take a seat.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“That’s cause I didn’t ask.” Kimberly playfully pats the desk chair. “Take a seat.”

Trini gets up and plops herself down in the chair with a bit of exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” Kimberly hums in response as she pulls out Trini’s hair tie and begins to card her fingers through her ombre locks.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“I think…” Trini trails off for a brief moment, in attempt to find her words. “I think I’m ready for you to cut it shorter.”

Kimberly instantly stops moving her finger through Trini’s hair. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“What about your mom?”

“I really don’t care anymore what she thinks. Or anyone else.” Trini slightlys stops herself on those words, realizing that they might be taken the wrong way. “Not anyone as in you. I just meant--”

But before Trini can finish her sentence, Kimberly lips are upon hers, passionately kissing her with an overwhelming abundance of love.

After a few moments, Trini pulls out of the kiss as a cocky smile crawls across her face. “Just don’t fuck it up, Princess.”

“Never.”

With that, Trini shuts her eyes as she feels Kimberly start back to work, ever so gently running her fingers through her hair.

And in the moment, one thing and one thing only is absolutely certain for Trini… There isn’t anything in the world that she wouldn’t do for Kimberly Hart.

Anything.

[flauntpage]

Blue Jays Mailbag: Osuna, Travis' Health, and Trading for a Mets Outfielder

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports Canada.

Andrew Stoeten answers your questions in our Blue Jays Mailbag, which runs weekly at VICE Sports. You can send him questions at stoeten@gmail.com, and follow him on Twitter.

The Blue Jays are through a strange and frustrating road trip, which ended up being uplifting thanks to a Sunday win and an appearance from their closer.

The club continues to float around the .500 mark, and have had a devil of a time crossing it, but in the two-team wild-card era, that means they are firmly still in the playoff picture, and fans are thinking long and hard about trading for upgrades—as we'll see below in this week's Blue Jays mailbag!

So let's crack it open and feast on the goo inside!

If you have a Blue Jays question you'd like me to tackle for next week, be sure to send it to stoeten@gmail.com. As always, I have not read any of Griff's answers.

Should the people that bagged on Osuna for taking time due to mental illness be shot into the sun *or* ocean? Sean

This seems to be as good a place to start as any, because yeah, it ought to be at least one of those places, right? But… hmmmm… since those people were such fucking squids, maybe they'd be a little too happy to be sent to the bottom of the sea. So… yeah… sun it is!

Seriously, though, I was fortunate in that I was away for the weekend and so only managed to have one eye on this stuff as it was happening. I hardly even know what to say about it now, except that it was great to see Osuna back out on the mound Sunday, as well as his teammates' reaction to it. And if seeing that helps underline, for all the fans who sometimes have trouble realizing, that players are actual human beings, that's another positive we can take from it—to go along with the fact that Osuna being brave enough to have this be so public will only help to destigmatize such issues.

Osuna told reporters this past weekend that he's been dealing with anxiety. Photo by Dan Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

It, perhaps, can also serve as a reminder to a not-dissimilar subset of fans that nothing good can come out of blinding, venom-spouting frustration, especially about a sport which is so naturally awash in frustrating moments. And also, you dopes, that when a manager says an unused player "wasn't feeling well tonight, that's all you need to know," it isn't necessarily a thinly-veiled attempt at covering for some colossal fuckup or an affront to your right to know absolutely everything about an ugly loss that so badly and thoroughly loosened your bowels.

---

Why is Jason Grilli still on the team? Ryan

Because of Drew Storen.

Or… OK… Grilli isn't exactly still here because of Storen, but consider the case of last year's would-be setup man. "Two's Scorin'" had an awful time on the mound for the Blue Jays, lost the confidence of the fans and his manager, then worked his way back to looking OK-ish (from May 20 to June 24 he pitched to a 1.35 ERA, allowing just 12 hits, walking 4 and striking out 12, in 13.1 innings), wobbled a bit again, and then was flipped for Joaquin Benoit—a reliever who'd struggled in his own right in Seattle, but who ended up being crucial for the Jays in the second half.

Grilli, sadly, has been worse in 2017 than Storen ever was for the Blue Jays, but the velocity is still there, and he's shown for a long time that he can get the job done. Teams aren't going to pay a lot for that, but the Jays aren't crazy to think that they can make him viable again, or that there might be another team willing to flip a similar player to them for the chance to try it themselves.

The veteran Grilli has gotten torched this season. Photo by Dan Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

Yes, there will come a time, if things don't improve, where they'll need to part ways with him, but right now, what's the upside? Grilli has only pitched four times in the three weeks since getting blasted by the Yankees earlier this month, so the opportunity for someone else to provide significantly more value in that role just really isn't there. Upgrading their fifth-best right-handed reliever simply wouldn't do much for this team beyond making Grilli haters feel satisfied with themselves. And given what Grilli has been in his career, what he did for the Jays last season, what they like about him as a veteran in the clubhouse, and what he (theoretically) could still be—either as a trade asset or as an asset on the mound in his own right—I completely understand why the club is having more patience here than some fans maybe would like.

---

Granderson could probably be had for a relatively low price. Think he's a viable option for LF? I realize he wouldn't be first choice. @renusm

I'm not sure Granderson would be the Jays' first choice on his own team, to be honest.

Late in the winter of 2016, the club appeared to have worked out a trade that would have sent Michael Saunders to the Angels, a few presumably not-so-great prospects to the Reds, and Jay Bruce from Cincinnati to Toronto. I wrote a piece at the time that I titled "Jay Bruce Is Bad, But That Might Not Stop The Jays From Trading For Him," which has led a few readers to assume over the last year that I have some kind of massive problem with Bruce. I definitely did cheer when the deal fell apart, but I also wrote this:

If it's just Saunders, and if it's somehow cash neutral, I can buy believing in Bruce's ceiling over Saunders' (despite Saunders' 3 WAR advantage in 2014, his last healthy-ish season), given the big uptick in durability and his (theoretical) potential as a 2017 asset [ Bruce had a 2017 option, Saunders was due to be a free agent]. I could even buy paying a premium to make that switch, I suppose. But not a big one. And certainly not one where the organization ends up committing dollars that could have gone to literally anything else that could have helped this club out.

It turns out the Jays' thinking was similar to my own, with one crucial exception: they liked Jay Bruce. And rightly so, it turns out.

We later learned that the Reds were going to pay $8 million of Bruce's $12.5 million salary, making the deal close to cash-neutral (Saunders made $2.9 million in 2016) and presumably low in terms of the prospects given up. A year ago the front office looked extremely fortunate that the deal had fallen apart—Bruce was OK enough, but Saunders was on his way to making the AL All-Star team. Over the last 365 days, though, it's become clear that Mark Shapiro and Ross Atkins were likely onto something: Saunders has been essentially the worst position player in baseball (his -1.2 WAR is dead last among the 242 players with at least 350 plate appearances over that span and he was just released by the Phillies), while Bruce has been more than fine, putting up two wins, a 111 wRC+, and blasting 37 home runs.

Twenty of those home runs for Bruce have come this year, as he's put up a 131 wRC+ to go along with his best walk rate since 2012, and his lowest strikeout rate since 2009. His defence has been much better than the way it was trending a year ago, too. Though the samples are too small to be too meaningful, the +4 DRS and +1.7 UZR he's sitting on as an outfielder (he loses defensive value in the overall because of a handful of bad games at first base) are both pretty impressive. And they're better marks than Granderson has been capable of in recent years.

I haven't looked at Bruce's defence much this year, if at all, so I'm not going to act like these numbers are the be-all, end-all and he's suddenly good out there, but it seems like he's not going to kill you in the field and has been an asset with the bat. Bruce has been streaky, with noticeable drop-offs in his production in the second half of every year since 2013, but with the success this year, plus the previous interest (he was linked to the Jays several times early on this past offseason), and the cost, I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one the Jays are interested in.

But Granderson does make some sense, too. He's likely to be better at getting on base (once Bruce regresses a bit), offers at least a little bit of speed that Bruce doesn't, a little bit of power in his own right, and could maybe hit at the top of the Jays' lineup if they did acquire him.

Both are a cut above what the Jays will roll out there, even once Ezequiel Carrera returns to full health, and both should come at a relatively low price tag, given that they're not great, and are free agents at the end of the season. So… sure...

---

What's your thoughts on Travis, injury prone time to move on, bad luck, wait it out or something else Paul

Time to move on?? Holy shit, man.

Look, to be honest, my credibility on the idea of whether or not a player deserves the "injury prone" tag went down with the good ship Brandon Morrow several years ago, but I'm of the mind that fans think they know and can see and understand a whole lot more about this stuff than they really do. A.J. Burnett was a guy who was always injured… until starting in 2008, at age 31, he reeled off seven straight seasons of 30 or more starts, y'know? And Dustin McGowan could never stay healthy, and yet he's thrown 107 innings out of the Marlins' bullpen over the last two years, and has done a damn fine job of it.

Travis has been limited to 213 games over the last three seasons and was recently transferred to the 60-day DL. Photo by Kim Klement-USA TODAY Sports

I guess what it comes down to, for me, is that there's a difference between "that guy is always hurt" and "that guy is always going to be hurt," and I certainly don't think Travis is in the latter category yet.

Like, we're basically only talking about two injuries when it comes to Devon's young Blue Jays career: a shoulder injury caused by the fact that his bones didn't fuse properly as he was growing up, and the ongoing trouble with his knee, which seems to have not quite healed right. They've played out like multiple injuries—Travis tried to play through pain and keep himself on the field as best he could—but are they? Really?

And if his medical history with the Jays really comes down to just two injuries, serious as they have been, I'm not sure it's fair to think that he's always going to be hurt, or to act like there's something especially wrong with him, physically, that means he's more likely than anyone else to pick up any other kind of injury.

The Jays could use a rental second baseman to finish out this season with, and it would be silly of me to say that all this must have only been bad luck and he should be entirely fine going forward, but as far as I'm concerned there is not a lot of reason to be afraid of him having trouble staying healthy beyond that. Which means I probably just cursed him. Fuck!

---

Hi Stoeten

Ideally, the Blue Jays could use a huge talent upgrade at multiple spots to lift themselves out of the pack of teams within a couple games of a playoff spot. But with relatively few teams that are actively selling and a front office looking to balance the present and future, it is likely the team will have to find particular areas to focus on at the trade deadline.

If you were the front office, how would you rank the following areas of need?

-Second Baseman who can hit and is at least adept defensively -Left Fielder who can field and is at least adept offensively -Late inning left-handed RP -Back-up Catcher -Starting pitcher with a proven track record of winning games which bring the team to .500 (or maybe just additional rotation depth)

Or would you just throw out the idea of ranking needs and sell everything!?

Thanks Josh

Well, I certainly wouldn't sell everything. I also don't see much need for another starter at the big league level—though depth pieces could always help. Backup catcher seems fine, too—though I'd be terrified to see more of Luke Maile as a starter, should anything happen to Russell Martin again—so I guess it's just the other three things the Jays should be most concerned about.

The thing is, the Jays aren't exactly dying for any of these positions to be upgraded, either. The right-handers in their bullpen have handled lefties well, their left field situation won't be too bad once Ezequiel Carrera comes back (which is a crazy thing to think, but he's had a nice year so far!), and second base is... ugly, but they've at least got some adept defenders to use there.

Are one of these Mets a future Blue Jay? Photo by Noah K. Murray-USA TODAY Sports

I guess by the way I've characterized it there, second base would have to rank at the top, followed by left field, then the bullpen lefty. But why rank? I've never seen the point in these sorts of exercises, to be honest. There are places to upgrade, there are pieces to upgrade with, and the deals that make the most sense will make the most sense. I don't think teams benefit from being rigid about which sorts of moves have to be made more than others (unless the problem is especially obvious, like the 2015 Jays needing a starting pitcher), because there are just so many moving parts and so many ways to go about adding value.

Which is to say: it seems to me like the easiest way to add value to these Jays would be to find a legit second baseman for the rest of the season, but it's entirely possible their best way to make the team better (while preserving future assets as best they can) may not run through second base. And I also think that thinking about it too much this way just leads to nonsense like we saw after the Tulowitzki trade in 2015, where some fans lost their minds about shortstop not being as important a spot to upgrade as the rotation was, as though there couldn't be another trade still coming, or the club was too focused on the wrong priorities. They're focused on every place they can make the club better.

Blue Jays Mailbag: Osuna, Travis' Health, and Trading for a Mets Outfielder published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[newagesispage]

                                                                      JUNE                           2017

 PAGE RIB

*****The writers are working on Arrested Development season 5 which Netflix has confirmed is coming in 2018 with the full cast. Ron Howard tells us he is “Warming up my uncredited narrator vocal chords.”

*****The world was welcomed to Live with Kelly and Ryan! I admit that I don’t watch it but this surely won’t help. Why??  Why him?? His name recognition, his power, his falling ratings at E!? Seacrest showed his interview prowess by mistaking Jeffrey Tambor for Vincent Schiavelli, the now deceased actor from the subway in Ghost.  Read the new memoir Tambor was selling, Are you anybody?

*****Val Kilmer says he is healing from cancer.

*****Conan is being sued by a former writer of Leno’s. The man claims that Conan and his writers “lifted jokes from his blog.”  They deny the charges. TBS showed their belief by inking him to 4 more years. Next up an animated series called Final Space and more branching out on the way.

*****We miss U Gwen Ifill but Robert Costa is doing a great job on Washington Week!

*****Clerics are a bit uneasy about scary clown’s order to ease limitations on places of worship and their ability to talk politics from the pulpit. Some fear the two existing side by side and some are very happy to feel the freedom.

*****Nigerian school girls that were abducted 3 years ago are slowly being released. May has brought a second release after the first one in October.

*****Turkey’s President Ertogan sent his thugs out in Washington to beat peaceful protesters. There was no consequence for they have diplomatic immunity. Really? There must be limits. Welcome to Trumps America. **Turkey later gets upset about the ‘treatment’ of those bodyguards.

*****Jimmy Kimmel and his wife welcomed a baby boy named Billy. He was born with heart problems and Kimmel came out to explain to his audience before letting guest hosts take over the rest of the week.  His genuine concern for children that are not as fortunate financially was touching. Of course, those who vote against such things did not seem to agree.** Kimmel is also set to once again host the Oscars.

*****Scandal will run its last season next year.

*****Mystery Science Theatre 3000 is going on tour. Keep an eye out for the Watch out for snakes! tour around the country.

*****Met Gala: The soiree for the who’s who: Best dressed- Nicki Minaj, Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, Frances Bean Cobain, Lena Dunham, Mary J. Blige, Bella Hadid, Zoe Kravitz, Pryanka Chopra. Worst dressed- Solange Knowles, Helen Lasichanh, Pharrell Williams, Clare Danes

*****Scary Clown 45 tells us that Andrew Jackson could have avoided the civil war. He also told John Dickerson that he calls his program, ‘Deface the Nation’.  Stephen Colbert was so incensed by the disrespect  shown to the journalist that he had a few choice words like; disgrace the nation. He said that Trumps mouth was best used as Putin’s cock holder. He was bleeped but the FCC still looked into complaints, no action was taken.

*****Drake beat Adele’s record at the Billboard music awards. Best dressed were Rachel Platten, Machine Gun Kelly and Madison Beer. Worst dressed were Alex Pall, Andrew Taggart, Halsey and Billy Ray Cyrus.

*****Pence was invited to speak at Notre Dame’s commencement and dozens of graduates and family members silently stood and walked out.

*****Bobby Moynihan, Sasheer Zamata and Vanessa Bayer are out at SNL.

*****Netflix is bringing us Ozark with Jason Bateman (also executive producer and director), Laura Linney and Esai Morales. Look for it in July.

*****So sad to see icons on Fox news. When you see an occasional clip of someone like Joe Nameth, you wonder why??

*****Michael Moore is doing a one man show on Broadway. ‘The terms of my surrender’ will premiere on July 28. He is working on a feature right now about Trump called Fahrenheit 11/9 that will be distributed by the Weinstein’s.  In the fall he will be in TNT prime time with Live from the apocalypse. The climate is giving him a time to shine. Go Michael!!

*****Norman Lear has received the Woody Guthrie prize.

*****Michael  McDonald is working on a new LP, Wide Open.

*****Hillary Clinton has put together Onward Together! The political group asks people to get involved and organize!

*****A report claims that your nipple color is your perfect lipstick shade.

*****A cameo from Paul McCartney is slated for the new Pirates of the Caribbean. He will play a jail guard.

*****The x Mrs. Johnny Depp, Amber Heard has moved onto Tesla founder Elon Musk.

*****An x German rapper, Denis Cuspert , who became an Isis recruiter briefly married FBI operative, Daniela Greene.

*****American Housewife has been renewed for another season.

*****Jesse Jackson has been giving motivational speeches in some high schools. On May 12 he appeared at Peoria High.

*****Larry Wilmore is back with a podcast: Black on the air!

*****James Corden takes his show to the U.K. with Harry Styles and many more.

*****Brick and mortar stores are taking a big hit this year. 85% of all sales still come from these stores but they grew too fast for their own good. Mall building surpassed the population and we will have to say good bye to many of them.

*****James Comey tried to defend himself with the FBI oversight committee. He informed us that he asked for search warrants for wiener’s computer and had not yet got them when he released a memo to congress about looking back into Hillary’s e mails case which was called mid year exam. He claims he could not tell us about the Russian investigation because it was not and still is not finished.  I have to wonder that if Hillary’s e mails were so fascinating to them, are they looking into the casual way that trump conducts business ?  They are probably looking into starting the while Clinton Email thing instead. I have to shake my head at the slow progress of so many of these old senators on both sides of the aisle. It makes the whole thing repetitive and unproductive.  The biggest sound bite was Comey’s statement that it made him mildly nauseous to think he would affect the election. Oh, please!!** Things did get going a bit finally and In the middle of some rather hard driving questions, Trump suddenly appeared on my TV with the President of Palestine. The media bought right into it and it was everywhere. I had to find C-span 3 to continue the hearings and skip the photo op.

*****And then Comey  is fired on May 9 starting a whole new shit storm that distracts from Sally Yates damaging testimony. There have been multiple excuses for that. I think most dems can agree he completely mishandled the Hillary stuff but the timing is just so Trump! He does not even care how it looks, he bulldozes on. There is a giant fucking cloud over the whole thing. There is a letter from deputy attorney general , Rosenstein and Jeff Sessions recommended the firing but Trump says he was gonna fire him all along. Word is that Comey is mad, Rosenstein is livid and also the Presidents communication team. Acting FBI head McCabe assures us that the files were immediately secured. The Prez says Comey informed him that he wasn’t under investigation.  The Fox spin seemed to blame the fact that Comey  would not take the Obama wiretap allegations seriously. Trump also signed an executive order to look into his claims of voter fraud. It is like the biggest conspiracy theory nut got to be president and now we could spend millions of dollars on his crazy whims. OMG! **I feel that I may puke if I have to again see that clip of Comey and Trump shaking hands. Word is that Comey hated that day. ** And now the Justice department has appointed former FBI head Robert Mueller to lead a special counsel on the Russian probe.** Trump claims that ”No politician had it worse” at a Coast Guard commencement.** He probably should not have thrown Rosenstein under the bus because his appointment of Mueller gives him a lot of room to investigate.

*****Constitutional law prof. Laurence Tribe of Harvard writes that trump should be impeached because a President can’t ask for loyalty from the FBI director. He states other reasons like Trump can’t be trusted to stay within the law. Could Comey, the man who helped get him elected be the one to bring him down?

*****The treasury department is looking into money laundering issues with Trump.

*****Scary Clown takes his first trip out of the country as Pres. While there Toby Keith will be playing a ‘men only’ show in Saudi Arabia.

*****Mrs. Callista Gingrich is the ambassador to the Vatican.

*****Princess Mako of Japan will marry Kei Komuro and give up royal status.

*****Once the Stones do it, others always follow suit. Pink Floyd now has an exhibit of their history at the Victoria Albert museum.

*****Scary Clown has threatened to shut down all press briefings.

*****Studies from the CDC show that teens are drinking less.

*****Wow!! Was blown away by Joanne Froggatt in Dark Angel on PBS Masterpiece.

*****JS.. Saw Levon Helm’s Electric Dirt on Axl’s wall on The Middle finale.

*****Brazil’s President is also in some trouble with bribe allegations.

*****A tide brought back a beach on the west coast of Ireland that washed away 33 years ago!!

*****Jared Kushner’s sister, Nicole Meyer told Chinese investors that she could help foreign nationalists get visas through her family’s real estate business.

*****Trump took the Russians gleefully into the oval office and only let in the Russian press, No Americans allowed!! The White house claims they were misled about the Russian photographers. Russia is spreading the news that they have a better relationship with our President that we do. The Washington Post had a story that Trump released classified info to them.  Once a President says it , it is declassified.

*****David Brooks wrote a NY Times piece after the “leak” calling out Scary Clown. He calls Trump an infantalist for immaturity is becoming the dominant role of his Presidency.  He writes, ‘His falsehoods are attempts to build a world in which he can feel good for an instant and comfortably deceive himself. He is an ‘incompetent person who is too incompetent to understand his own incompetence.’ Well said!

***** I personally think that some people just like to live in chaos. Those people have taken over for now. I suppose that Trump loyalists like being puppets. It seems they can’t really think for themselves because everything scary clown does seems just fine to them. As long as he is firing people and disrupting the status quo, they are good no matter the cost. No backbone.

*****The Kennedy Center will honor David Letterman with the Mark Twain prize for American humor.

*****Have we ever had a first lady whose parent was a communist?

*****Nightcap on Pop will be back on June 7.

*****Comedy Central brings comics like Jerry Seinfeld and Kevin Hart with Colossal Clusterfest.

*****The Great British Baking show will be on PBS on June 16.. Hey.. that is Tom’s birthday!!

*****The Battle of the Network Stars is coming in June.

*****People of Earth is back on TBS on July 24.

*****Marijuana business owners were in Washington this month to fight for their rights. They specifically brought attention to section 280-E of the tax code that does not allow deductions and The Respect the State Marijuana Laws act of 2017.

*****Rumors have always been out there that H H Holmes escaped execution.  His great grandchildren have petitioned for and been granted permission to exhume his body.

*****The house voted to end health care as we know it. It is opposed by the AMA, AARP, ACA and on and on. The groups are trying to ban together to hold town halls and explain just what they will get if Obamacare is taken away. But Scary Clown and all his other smug white buddies were laughing and joking about how wonderful it all is. Idaho congressman, Raul Labrador even said later that “Nobody dies because they don’t have access to health care,” They all have a very strange sense of humor. To quote a song from another time, “Ain’t no time to wonder why, whew! We’re all gonna die!” It is like a nightmare. I guess their thinking is that if they get rid of all the poor people, they won’t have to look at us anymore? They do not understand the idea of paycheck to paycheck. To get money back on your taxes to help fund your own health care is impossible for many people. They feel they have to get this health care plan through so they can then do the tax plan. They need the health care money for the poor so that the top moneymakers can have their big tax cuts.** Why not just fix the problems with Obamacare like a not for profit public option to buy into?**Women are a majority in this country, how the fuck did we get here? ** I loved Bette Midler’s tweet on it the best: “GOP passed a health care bill so bad they exempted themselves from it. They may live longer, but when they die, it’s straight to hell.”

*****Richard Simmons is suing American Media Inc. and their Radar online and National Enquirer for a story about his transitioning into a woman.

*****Bob Newhart came to Chicago to headline the Salvation Army’s annual civic luncheon.

*****The IFC’s Brockmire is fun and raunchy and you can see Hank Azaria nude. He and Amanda Peete have great chemistry but the rest of the cast is awesome too. I am so loving Tyrel Jackson Williams, the tech nerd and Daisuke Tsuji , the Japanese Free mason pitcher. The Pennsylvania town of Morristown is so Monessan like.

*****A woman may face a year in prison for laughing about Jeff Sessions. Desiree Fairooz was convicted for disorderly conduct but some are calling this fake news.

*****Loretta Lynn had a stroke and has postponed her tour. She is now in rehab.

*****Oh Conan.. Please.. More of the “Gilligan” writer please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

*****Days alert: More of the tech nerd Myron Radditz!! And let’s keep going with the love story of JENERIC!!** I saw the Days punk pimp on a new ad for Geico. He is going places?!** Could they make Nicole any more whiny or stupid!! C’mon!** It is time to kill off Jade.**Morgan Fairchild has joined the cast as Angelica Deveraux.

*****I always knew that Debra Winger was cool. I see that she has admiration for Better Call Saul and The Americans. Yes!!

*****Jeff Goldblum will be back for the next Jurassic Park!

*****Always Dreaming won the Kentucky Derby!

*****Gov. Greg Abott has signed a ban for sanctuary cities in Texas.

*****Norway has the wonderful slow TV on their public broadcasting. It started with a train trip. You can watch chopping wood or burning logs or sheering sheep and knitting. There was a cruise that lasted 5 and a half days. It is syndicated around the world.  YES!!

*****Hooray!! Paris did it! Macron wins!!

*****New Orleans is courting controversy with the removal of many civil war statues.

*****The U.S. has armed the Kurds in Syria. **The White House is also considering new troops in Afghanistan.

*****Trump quote: During the Clapper /Yates testimony: “Watch then start to choke like dogs. Watch what happens. They are desperate for breath.”

*****If you haven’t been reading Carl Reiner’s tweets about Donald Trump.. you must check it out. A recent example: “In his first hundred days in office, trump has succeeded in affirming to our citizens that our great nation will cheer his impeachment.”

*****The Stones are revving up for a new tour in Europe.

*****American Crime Story will tackle Katrina with Dennis Quaid playing George W. Bush.

*****Sam Rockwell will play a KKK leader alongside Taraji P. Henson as a civil rights activist in Best of Enemies.

*****After the court said that Trumps website still stated that ALL Muslims should be banned and Sean Spicer was asked about it in a briefing, it immediately disappeared.

*****Why is frat house hazing still allowed to go on?? These are grown ass people that act like 5 year olds but with booze and drugs.

*****In 2011 a nodosaur mummy was discovered in Alberta with the skin and stomach contents intact!! Paleontologist Vinther says the dinosaur, from 110 million years ago was so well preserved that it might have been walking around a couple of years ago. It is now on display at the new Alberta museum. How fucking exciting is that?

*****Jeff Sessions tell us that he would like the harshest sentences possible for drug offenses. These guys sure like their torture and punishment.

*****RIP Jean Stein, Steven Holcomb, Powers Boothe, Roger Ailes, Chris Cornell , Lisa Spoonaver, Roger Moore,  Gregg Allman and Susan Hurt.