#funny we have a whole coping system thing i just refuse to give in and hurt our body instead cs i dont wanna teehe

[brockachu]

hey y’all ever think about how the new narrative (at least in the league, and a little from some sabres fans) is that the sabres can finally get a true rebuild done, shaking off the haunted vibes from jack, but using what he was traded for. and it’s just like. he was supposed to save the franchise right? and there is so much budding hope in the sabres i’ve seen recently.

like some ppl are already projecting tuch for next captain. the sabres seem to be developing krebs pretty well & he’s def getting more play than he would’ve in vegas. they also have a 1st & 3rd round pick from the trade that could go so many ways to rounding out that increasingly youthful roster.

and the irony is that jack maybe did finally save the franchise. by leaving.

[technowoah]

Another Quick Wilbur Headcanon That I Dream About.

You met Wilbur when he recorded the Your City Gave Me Asthma video.

Based on this comment ⬇️

You were currently walking home from a night out by yourself. It was a cold night alone even though the streets were once filled with people giving warmth. Now no one else was walking on the same street except for the occasional old man staring at you and a car zooming by.

The street lights made London look creepier than it usually was at night, but it had some sort of beauty to it. As you neared a crosswalk you overheard a guitar playing in the distance. It added another level of uneasiness to you, but you couldn't help yourself from walking closer to hear the guitar playing, more clearly. It was hypnotic, but aggressive at the same time.

As you got closer you found yourself at on the same side of the street with a brightly lit bridge. You could hear the guitar more clear now and could hear some singing going with it. The singing was slightly drowned out by the guitar and the echo it it brought, but you kept walking to hear or see the person who was making those sounds.

As you got to the entrance, or beginning of the bridge you saw a man sitting criss-cross on the floor of said bridge strumming a guitar infront of a tripod with a camera sitting ontop of it. You didn't want to be in his shot so you stood off to the side hoping that he would be done so that you could commend him on his musical skills.

His back was towards you so he didn't notice your presence.

The more you stood there at the end of the bridge being his only audience member, the more you felt like a creep hearing the man sing.

The song he was strumming was beautiful, the chords he strummed was a haunting contrast to his pained voice. If you left now you would probably be thinking about who this musician was trying to find any sort of music from him. The funny thing is that you never showed interest to this type of music until now.

"Cause the walls dont fucking love you." The man sung and you found your heart aching and your body swaying to the guitar. You closed your eyes for a moment relishing in the guitar solo he had but in.

"Fuck! I fucked it! Dammit!" You were in a trance until he had suddenly stopped playing and hung his head low.

You decided it was a good time to walk up to the mystery man and try to pick up his spirits atleast without trying to be a creep. I mean you already were, but you already made up your mind.

"Hey." You started walking up beside him. He turned his head and you finally saw his, very handsome, face. His hair fell over his forehead in a messy way and his eyes were threatening to spill out tears. "I thought that was beautiful especially the second song."

You stood next to him awkwardly as he took in your approach. He then shook his head and laughed.

"Yeah I hate all of these songs, but these help me cope." He said gesturing to the camera and guitar on his lap.

"At least you have a coping system." You smiled at him.

He smiled up at you and reached his hand up for you to shake.

"My name's Wilbur."

"I'm Y/N." You grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. His hands were rough but warm.

"Oh! Im sorry for being a creep!" You quickly apologized. "And for ruining your shot." You pointed at the camera.

He stood up at his full height, which was astonishly taller than you and turned off his camera.

"Dont worry. I already had a good take, this was just for a back up just in case I didn't like the first one." He picked up the tripod and camera and turned to you.

"Thanks for being my first live audience member." He airly chuckled and so did you.

"Of course. It was beautiful." You answered and started walking the way off the bridge.

You two walked in silence until you both reached the end of the bridge and noticed that you two were going seperate ways. You both turned around to say one last goodbye and you thought all hope was lost and that all you had was his name.

"Hey! Are you alone?" Wilbur called out.

"Yeah I walked here alone. Why?"

"You shouldn't be here walking alone at night, especially in this area. Or in any area." He walked up to you. "I'll walk you home."

"Thats the opposite of where you were walking!" You complained as you two walked side by side.

"I'll Uber back home, dont worry." He waved it off as you two walked home in silence.

A question was on the tip of your tounge the whole walk home. You couldn't bring yourself to ask Wilbur to see eachother again, but when he dropped you off at your doorstep and you refused to go inside until his Uber got here, you finally found the courage to speak up.

You two were currently sitting on the curb of the sidewalk when you finally asked the question.

"Wilbur?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you want to see eachother again. I mean- I would love to go out for lunch." You found the words as you went on and he nodded at you.

"I would love to. Because me almost crying while singing a song on a bridge is not the first impression I would like." He smiled and you matched his smile. "Here, but my number in your phone!" He offered and you accepted his offer.

You ended the night with a quick "goodbye" and "thank you" when Wilbur's Uber finally came and he drove away. You were finally inside your house and you took a shower and got under the covers in your bed. The last thing you see before you go to bed for the night is a quick text from Wilbur.

WILBUR (from the bridge)

The song is called Jubilee Line btw

[Read]

I cant wait till we see eachother again. What about Saturday?

[Read]

YOU

Thats perfect Wilbur

[Sent]

[elytrafemme]

okay hi hello hi jumping up and down. system things tee he

also @evilpuzzlingpapercrown (hi it’s me puzzle and i’m taging my alt and writing on annon because i refuse to mention this stuff of main. i have… irls in there. i don’t want to have a long ass awkward convo with some of the more skeptic about system people i know)

this is going to be a load of rambles because yes ✨ but i would love to hear any stories/answers/assorted things you have to anything i ramble on about

the most immediate thing i can think of is headspace/internal word. i’m always curious as to how that works for different systems. i read somewhere that even singlets can have a kind of headspace which is cool. cool beans (beans that are cool) mine is simple af and confusing af. hashtag dinner theater

okay and also i can remember when i first learned about plurality beyond like stereotypical nonsense like 3 years ago. i thought i was plural for months but there was such a mental blocker on figuring everything out and i decided i was just a different brand of mentally ill. i then had like a questioning period every other two months until i did like extensive research on systems and plurality. turns out finding info from people who have the thing ur looking into is the best place for info and coping skills. \o/

okay unrelated i keep smelling maple syrup all day and i don’t know why. it’s good though so i can’t complain.

anyway do you have colors you associate with any of your alters/headmates? also i find the word headmate funny. like mainly because my college algebra teacher says “and you can get help on homwork with your roomates, suitemates, any of your mates!” and i giggle. checking my homework with the other dumb bitches in my brain. hhahahehe

okay a question! we’re there ever things that you had a very switched up opinion of or something before realizing you were a system. like having some time really enjoying one kind of music and then something in ur brain is shocked later like “huh but i liked this music more” when it was just two people liking different music? okay that was an elaborate question i might give another example thou. like uh….. style! having a part of your brain that really liked a specific style unlike what you mostly like and realizing it’s an alter being freaking vocal but only about this one specific thing. like honey you can indulge futuristic neon cyber punk whatever later. right now is time for jeans and a hoodie because i said so

oh yea do you do anything specific to try and like monitor your system? like for any kind of memory things or just yo keep track of switches. ect ect. you don’t have to answer that because that’s kinda personal i was just wondering if you had a method that worked well for y’all? tbh i am going through an assortment of attempts at keeping a slight track of things… it’s difficult tbh. sometimes there’s a really freaking apparent switch and other times i realize someone’s like here with me now i guess and other times there’s a moment and i’m like “wait i don’t remember this morning. or like this whole week. haha. wait.” ect ect

haha silly moments over here

okay and i should probably give a more thought provoking topic. like uh… oh yea! positivity time yesyes

has your self image/self perception improved since realizing you were a system in any way? is there anyway that embracing this all has helped you? ect ect

YIPPEE OKAY HI!!! Mare fronting rn but we have a lot of thoughts about this so idk if anyone else is gonna co con or whatever but hiii

so for us, the internal world/headspace kind of... barely exists? this i think is because our brain isn't very good at retaining pictures for a long period of time, like we've had difficulties in the past trying to envision a scene we're working on writing but not being able to get a clear picture of it for a while. it's not that we can't imagine things at all, but it's kind of tricky. also, we're a pretty new system. so as of right now, most of the internal world is just... if an alter is about to front, i can see them sometimes doing a specific action, but it's in an empty void of space. the other day i was trying to call dahlia out to front but she was sitting there reading and kind of floating in the abyss

we do have an exception which is more like the. hm. okay so we have the foreground of headspace, which is just what i call the headspace, and that is where all the frequent fronters are. then in the background we kind of have a place where shit gets blurry and its hard to tell delusion from internal world. but that's where we get things like the woods and all that

damn that's fascinating actually, i feel very strange b/c i really and truly did NOT expect to be a system, like, i'd done research on systems for ages but i think i just didn't know about systems that like... didn't have amnesia walls, or weren't specifically DID. and bc of that i like did not realize what i was experiencing... Was That. having friends who r systems really helped on that front i agree wholeheartedly

i kind of dont like maple syrup like as a vibe. it's so sticky. it like tastes fine and smells fine and whatever just. residue :(

HELPSDFKDFSHKSDF you rolling up to ur alters like Guys its calculus time ^_^ nah but in terms of colors uhhh well it's. pretty on the nose actually but yeah! dahlia is pink, klavier is purple, i am a more blue-toned lighter purple, nightshade is a very dark purple-grey shade, and some of the other bastards have colors but idk their names yet so it's hard to talk about them. the deer is iridiscent but most closely matches with very light blue and very very VERY light pink

NO BC THAT'S STRAIGHT UP HOW WE FOUND OUT BASICALLY. like to cut the story short i have dealt with bad identity issues for a while bc my consistency with interests and personality traits and opinions were so different. how i realized that it might be a system thing was bc one day i got super into the Met gala despite never having fucking cared for it ever before. and i felt very like not like "me" in that moment. turns out that was someone else i don't remember who now but yeah that kicked us off

wishing u a lot of luck with tracking things, unfortunately i have no strategies :( i actually really struggle to keep track of it bc sometimes i'll be wandering doing smth and go "wait who am i?" and then i have no idea and i'm like "okay well. not mare but whatever" and then maybe half hour later i tune in again and it's me again. also my memory is really awful and we're so frequently co con, and honestly i am around so goddamn much, that it's kind of difficult to tell. i remember all the clear switches bc i journal them later, but none of the times and i never know what happens in those empty periods. so yeah shits rough and i wish u so much luck w that

this is kind of funny to say bc i think it's caused both grief and joy, but i've felt a lot better about myself since realizing that i'm not the same host that the system had in the start. like realizing that i am a new alter that emerged mid-2021 and has been host every since explains so much. i experience such imposter's syndrome and one of the biggest issues i had was realizing i was aro-spec and ace bc i felt like in the past EVERYTHING was testifying against that. and it took me until like last WEEK to realize. yeah that's because those memories weren't you. you probably formed to BE arospec and ace bc of them actually. it's so validating.

also. it's just. it's kind of nice. to not be alone :')

and also also this is kinda too much info but being a system despite not having that much amnesia walls or anything, has helped kind of a lot with trauma coping. its made some things worse but i think once we know the other alters and things organize it;ll actually end up being easier to handle everything

thank u for the questions friend i <3 you

[floatingbook]

I recently found your blog and im in love with your writings. I guess I just needed to went about this. Anyway theres this female youtuber that I watched for a long time now. She makes good animal content and is an ornithologist. Her style of content is also right up my alley. (1)

But the thing is shes homophobic. I knew this for a while now but on one of her recent streams she explicitly stated how disgusted she found gay people using very popular homophobic slurs in our language (not English). And like I dont hate her or whatever. I like her content and even her personality vice. she herself is gnc in her style and is not married. she gets a ton of comments from men telling her how weird it is and she addressed it in multiple videos saying how stupid she finds it (2)

but like this whole thing makes it difficult to just enjoy bird and lizard videos lol. recently we also got a new professor at my Uni. and while she considers herself tolerant she said quite a few. homophobic things as well. like she said she'd kill her son if he was gay, jokingly. but whats funny in that? anyway I talked about this with my groupmate whos lesbian and she told me she hated this but tries to not pay attention to it. she thinks its best to just ignore it.(3)

and like I think shes right. we cant change anything about this, our country is very homophobic. so why pay attention to it? Im secure in myself anyway. but its still so difficult to just not thing about it and enjoy everything else.have you ever dealt with similar feelings? how did you cope with them? sorry for long message. im also a lesbian if it matters. (4)

No need to apologise for the length of your message, sister! I’m sorry you’ve had to face this; but which lesbian, sadly, doesn’t? It’s all too common for us to be faced with this kind of non-physically-harmful homophobia. And at first glance, we tend to discount it, yes. After all, we are “secure in [our]selves”, we know there’s nothing wrong with being lesbians, that we’re not ill or cursed or whatever nonsense. In the long run, and although it doesn’t do the same kind of damage as homophobic physical harm, I think it’s more worrying. Especially because it appears so harmless at first, such a matter of personal opinion — we can’t really change the way these people think, they’re always going to harbour those kinds of thoughts.

But even if you’re a proud lesbian and fine with yourself, it still makes you internalise the fact that homosexuality is somehow wrong. Of course being regularly exposed to that kind of ideas, of content, is going to affect your wellbeing. Even if it’s “just” a passing remark from a youtuber, or a “joke” from a university teacher, or an aunt sharing a bigoted stereotype about homosexuality, or a random individual being interviewed on TV during a conservative march, or a priest mentioning once in a while how you’re going to end up burning in hell just for existing. These comments can lead us to feel terrible about ourselves, straight into self-hatred. They also, whether we like it or not, create a hostile climate for us. It’s not healthy to exist in an environment where you know that people despise or outright hate you, even if they don’t know that you specifically are a lesbian. You’re always going to be wondering how your teacher would treat you if she somehow found out. Would she lower your grades? Would there be any kind of retaliation? For every homophobe who makes homophobic jokes or share any other type of homophobic position, there’s always the worry of escalation to physical harm. As a result, you’re always, even if not completely consciously, on the lookout.

I think the best thing to do with these people is to cut them out whenever possible. I know that you like that youtuber’s content, but you’re always going to be wondering in a corner of your mind “when is she going to be homophobic again”. I’m sure you can find other women talking about that kind of subject, and if not on youtube maybe in podcasts, in documentaries, or on blogs. It’s eminently frustrating to loose a source of information and entertainment, but you also have to take care of yourself, and sometimes that means removing homophobes from your life. Here, a reminder that it’s not your job to cure them of their homophobia. You don’t have to put up with them. Much in the same way that women don’t have to waste their time explaining to men how we are human beings deserving of rights and dignity and a life free of oppression too.

In the case of your uni teacher, you can’t do a lot but bear through it. It’s good that you’re not alone; support your fellow lesbian, and make sure that you don’t let the hate, however how casual, get you down. I don’t think it’s about “ignoring” it as much as not letting either despair or rage take up too much space. It’s normal to feel depressed that homophobia is so widespread, but you can try to balance it out with the knowledge, shared by many of your fellow lesbians, that being a lesbian is perfectly normal and even wonderful. Same for anger at the homophobia, it’s perfectly normal in the face of bigotry and hatred, but please make sure that you use your anger as fuel for positive action and don’t just let it simmer and fester into giving up and depression and helplessness.

We don’t have to be resigned to the homophobia. You can sensibilise your friends to the problem, and hopefully find people who’ll embrace you for who you are. You can move to less homophobic places; you can create lesbians clubs, gatherings or communities; if you are determined and want to play the game and work within the rules of the system, you can lobby and agitate for reforms to law to make your country less homophobic. We don’t have to tolerate homophobic people. There are some things on which we can refuse to compromise.

(same anon who wrote about female youtuber)also Goddammit these straight anons are so ridiculous. sorry for my language. how can they not see their privilege? literally the entire fucking world is telling you that relationships with men are good and pure and "correct" and you DARE to come to a LESBIANS blog and whine about a tiny group of lesbian women who tell you that maybe men aren't the end all be all im just so sorry for their stupidity sis.. crazy you still have to deal with this shit :/

I’m used to it, not that it’s pleasant, but yes, sometimes it’s baffling how little reading comprehension and self-awareness some people exhibit on here (and out there in the world). I hope you have a very pleasant week, anonymous sister, and that your lesbian friend does as well ;)

[sierraraeck]

Why Do You Struggle In Silence?

Hotch x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: For some reason, the case they just finished is getting to her. Hotch decides to talk to her about it on the jet. Story three.

Category: Some angst, I guess.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff and sexual abuse.

Word Count: 2.1k

I had always had a talent for shutting people up. Whether that was a threat, a look, or some other uncomfortable comment I made, usually regarding myself, I found I could always get people to shut the hell up. Ever since I announced to the whole team that I’d killed people, that’s the reaction I received, which was fantastic considering they all already didn’t like me. Except for Emily who was the only one willing to even talk to me, but that information just reverted her back to thinking like everyone else, as it should for any normal person.

We boarded the jet, and I took my usual spot in the back, everyone else sitting or sleeping together in the front. Everyone had something they could do on the plane. Morgan and his music, Reid and his books, Prentiss and Jareau sleeping together, Aaron and Rossi talking to each other. I would listen to music but they refused to give me a phone (which was fair enough) and I would read but I guess they’re worried that I’d be inclined to give others papercuts? It was ridiculous. I had to sit there with my thoughts (something I’d grown way too accustomed to) or look through another case file. I opted for the latter.

Usually what other people did or said to me didn’t bother me. What other people did or said to other people didn’t particularly bother me either. But for some reason, this last case bothered me. These young women, who were the same age as me and looked a lot like me, were found exsanguinated in a ditch. They were all perfect students with perfect families and perfect friends. They were going places.

And then they weren’t.

Which especially pissed me off. Then I was pissed off that I was especially pissed off. So I decided that I needed to keep my mind occupied. That’s the funny thing about this job, looking at a new serial killer case is actually better than contemplating other disturbing thoughts.

I had just opened the next case file when someone sat down in the seat across from me.

“Aundreya,” Aaron said.

“Aaron,” I replied. “Uh I mean, Hotchner.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Correct yourself like that, calling me Hotchner?” I could see the sincerity in his eyes. He always looked so stone cold, but in that moment I could see something different. It worried me.

“I don’t know. I guess I realized the people you consider family aren’t even on a first name basis with you, so why should I be?”

“You don’t even use nicknames. I’m Hotchner, JJ is Jareau, Spencer is Dr. Reid …”

Because I haven’t earned them yet. I haven’t gotten to the point where they’d be okay with me calling them anything else. I’d be impeding on your guys’ territory. Any of these explanations would fit, but I didn’t feel like admitting any of them.

“Look, Hotchner-”

“You can call me Aaron,” he cut me off. My mouth hung open midsentece, the words evaporating from my tongue. My confusion must have been painted on my face because he quickly followed with, “You’ve always called me Aaron. It’s weird to hear you call me something different. Plus, sometimes I need someone other than Dave to remind me what my first name is.”

Was that … a joke? From Aaron Hotchner? I really must be losing it.

“Okay … Aaron,” I emphasized, “Why are you really here? I’m fairly certain you didn’t make the treacherous trip all the way over to the opposite end of the plane just to ask me about nicknames.”

“True. I actually wanted to ask how you were doing.”

“So are you going to?” I asked. Even when he was trying to be nice I couldn’t override my instinct to be an ass.

“Going to what?”

“Ask how I’m doing?” There were those unamused, dagger eyes I know and love.

“You’re stalling.”

“In fact I am, sir,” I responded. There were plenty of things in the world I disliked, but the thing I hated above all else, was talking about myself and those things called emotions. It all just felt so foreign.

Aaron looked at me for a while before speaking. It’s like I could physically see the ice melting around his eyes, softening them back up. And profiling. Always profiling.

Finally, he came out with it. “Why do you struggle in silence?”

Those six words hit me like a brick from a skyscraper. No one had ever cared enough to ask, not even Deen or Sydney. It sent an entire shock wave through my system.

Struggling in silence was the only real way I’d learned how to cope with everything over the years. No one on the streets wanted to hear about what was going wrong in your life and why it sucked because theirs’ always sucked more. Better yet, you brought it upon yourself and it was somehow your fault. Oh your mom and sister died in a fire? My dad killed my mom then committed suicide. Oh you’re out here on the streets at 14? Try 12. Oh you’re being sexually abused in a gang? You joined it.

Once I got thrown in prison, there was no time for feelings. Adapt or die. Either you shoved it all down, proved your worth, and reacted on instinct, or you went soft and got eaten alive. Not like anyone going to prison is necessarily ‘soft’ to begin with.

The only thing I could think to do was deflect. “What do you mean?”

“You insist on sitting here alone with your thoughts and they’re tearing you apart. Instead of talking about them, you compress them and turn them into rage that comes out in random bursts. Usually you can keep it in check, but I saw something different this week, especially today. So how are you doing?” The concern was swimming in his eyes. There was something soothing about the way he could keep his voice calm and quiet when relaying any sort of information. He could convince me the year was 1872 and unicorns existed.

“I’m doing a whole hell of a lot better than those girls, I’ll tell you that. I’m not bleeding out in a ditch, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well,” I said more harshly than I intended.

“Is that what this is about? The case we just worked?”

I sighed and looked down. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course it matters. The work we do matters and each team member matters,” he replied. We sat there in silence for a while before he spoke again. “If you aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, which I figured you wouldn’t, at least tell me why you choose to struggle in silence.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s what I’ve always done, and it’s not like I have any other options.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that no one wants to hear my problems. I don’t even want to hear my problems. There’s not a single person on the planet that wants to listen to a street rat gang criminal complain about what’s bothering her,” I answered. It’s true. I bet the nicest shrink out there would roll their eyes at the idea of me complaining. “Anything that’s an issue for me I’ve probably brought upon myself anyway and if I haven’t, I’m sure I deserve it.”

“You know that’s not true. Each person deserves to-”

“Not me, Aaron, not me. I’m not deserving of whatever it was you were about to say. I’m much more deserving to swap places with those girls because they definitely didn’t deserve to die like that,” I said. I wanted to hit myself for saying anything at all. He didn’t actually want to hear what I had to say, he probably just asked so that he still seemed like a good unit chief. Aaron just looked at me, realization forming on his face. “And I don’t deserve to be complaining. Especially not to you.”

“Especially not to me?”

“Especially not to any of you. Every single person on this plane has their fair share of issues and is doing just fine. You don’t need my problems being spread around on top of that. So yeah, I choose to struggle in silence.”

“So you think that just because you have a troubled past, you don’t deserve to have a weight lifted off your shoulders?” he prompted.

“You could say that,” I responded. His eyes were still questioning and he let the air hang between us, waiting for me to fill the void. “It just doesn’t make sense to me, you know? Like why were those smart, pure women who had good things going for them cut short at 23 while I’ve made just about every bad decision in the book and I’m still kicking?”

Hotch was incredible at giving intense eye contact and not breaking it. Yet right when I finished talking, I saw his eyes flick to the side in the direction where I assumed everyone else was sitting. It was only for a millisecond, but it was just enough to alert me that not everyone was preoccupied or sleeping like I’d initially thought when I first sat down, turning my back to the rest of the team. I tried not to let on that I’d seen it.

“Trust me, everyone who has ever worked for the FBI has asked that same question. My best answer is that we still have work to do,” he offered. It was a valid enough answer, but I was still irritated. Irritated that I’d let on I was bothered, irritated that I’d just admitted it out loud, irritated that he was so level headed about it. I was determined not to share any more about myself and my feelings. It made me feel gross.

Apparently among Hotch’s many talents was also mind reading, because he followed with, “Just so you know, in case you ever decide to stop struggling in silence, the team and I are here for you.”

I scoffed, shaking my head at him. “No. They’re not. But I appreciate you saying that and I appreciate you being here. Even though I know you still don’t fully trust or respect me.” He looked at me with a combination of shock, betrayal, and wonder. He immediately reverted back to stone, which he did whenever he felt like he was being read too easily, like a defense mechanism. Like I’d seen something I shouldn’t have.

“Oh, come on, Aaron. I know it’s taking every fiber in your body not to just slap handcuffs on me right here right now and keep it that way. Don’t worry, I’m not offended by it. It makes sense considering you’ve spent over twelve years dedicated to putting handcuffs on people like me. That’s why I especially appreciate your efforts to fight that very same instinct you’ve been fine-tuning all these years.” I didn’t think it was possible, but I had rendered the great Aaron Hotchner speechless. He looked at me with that blank expression, but his eyes spoke volumes. They told me that I was right, that he never intended for me to know that, and that he was not used to being on the receiving end of being profiled.

I gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “But don’t worry. If I ever get tired of it, or decide my method of coping is no longer working for me, you will be the first to know.”

Still not knowing exactly what to do, Aaron nodded, got up from his place across from me, and started walking back to where he was sitting before. I caught him just before he got out of arm's reach.

“Oh and Aaron,” I stopped him with a slight smirk, “I think it’d do you some good to remind your children that eavesdropping is supposedly rude.”

I received a single nod and the beginnings of a smirk as he turned to walk away.

From behind me I heard Rossi whisper, “Supposedly rude, huh?”

“I guess because she’s the master at it,” Morgan whispered.

“I knew she’d know we were listening,” Prentiss joined.

“Your children?” Reid asked. I allowed myself a slight smile when he said that.

“She’s not completely wrong, though,” Aaron answered. I could basically feel the teasing and silent laughs radiating from behind me.

I shook my head, slightly amused at how on-edge I could make six FBI profilers. I directed my attention back to the case file in front of me, grateful to finally let the irritated feeling looming over me dissipate.

[maluminspace]

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Luke Hemmings/FTM Reader

Word Count: 2k

Requested by: @wildmalumflower

Please could you write a soft Luke fic? Maybe a cute anniversary date or something?

Trigger Warnings: strong language, vague references to past deadnaming, misgendering and transphobia.

A/N: I was overwhelmed by the love that my last FTM fic got, so of course I am back with more for my Andy! <3 Thank you to @h0tsos​ for helping me decide on the song for this! Title taken from ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ by INXS

***

“This is too much, Luke!” You gasp as you step into the huge, spacious hotel room.

The first thing that grabs your attention is the ornate, four poster bed set against the wall just to your right. A very large window and glass door in front of you reveal a large balcony that overlooks the city. Other notable contents of the room include a little sitting area (complete with a wall-mounted flat screen TV, cozy sofa and fluffy rug), the largest wooden wardrobe you’ve ever seen and what you’re sure is a jacuzzi bathtub, just visible through the open bathroom door.

In fact, the whole décor screams ‘overpriced’ and borderline pretentious but the romantic gesture from your boyfriend means the whole world to you. Plus you’re pretty hopeful that you’ll get to use the balcony and bathtub to tick a few things off of your ‘sex bucket list’ later.

“Well three years is a big deal!” Luke grins as he wheels the suitcase over to the far corner of the room near the large window. “I never thought I’d find anyone that would put up with me for that long.”

Your heart instantly melts at the soft look on your boyfriend’s face as he stares out of the window at the pretty cityscape below. He’s never loved himself much, in fact - that was part of what you’d bonded over. You’d never been a big fan of yourself either. The two of you had been searching for someone to reassure you, to love you for you are. Your own quest had been a subconscious one, you hadn’t even realised that’s what you’d needed until this lanky dork had shyly approached you at a mutual friend’s birthday party.

Over the years you’d been together, you’d learnt that Luke’s search for self acceptance had started with him sleeping around. He’d made no secret of the fact that he’d gone to bed with pretty much anyone that had expressed the slightest interest in him. Despite thinking that sex would eventually lead to love, it turned out to be nothing but a distraction from his everyday life.

The fact that Luke had always been so open and honest with you about his past made it easy for you to open up to him too. Following your initial attraction to him, you’d been determined to start your relationship off with the truth. You’d started your first date by coming out to him as a trans man. It’d been a deal-breaker for so many other people in the past, but Luke had simply taken your hand and smiled softly. He’d told you that you were the hottest guy at the party the previous night and he just couldn’t believe you’d agreed to meet him. You’re pretty sure that was the moment you’d fallen in love with him. That was three years ago and the feeling hadn’t faded one bit.

Stepping over to the window, you wrap one arm around Luke’s waist and cuddle into his side. “How many times do I have to tell you that you deserve to be loved, Hemmings.” You huff, nestling under his arm, revelling in his familiar scent and warmth.

He lets out a weak chuckle and hugs you close, almost as if he’s scared you’ll slip away from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. “I’m just still in shock that you haven’t ran for the hills yet, precious.” He explains, stroking your shoulder gently through the faded denim of your jacket. “I mean, you’re literally perfect and I’m still a bit of a screw up.”

Jabbing Luke gently in the ribs you lift your head to fix him with a stern glare. “You’re my screw up, Lukey, you always be.” You insist, “And I am so far from perfect... People still misgender and deadname me all the fucking time. I can’t even get the world to see me for who I am.”

Luke cups your cheek in one large hand as he turns to face you, lowering his head until the tip of his nose is pressed to yours. There’s a fierceness burning in his usually soft blue eyes, the same glint that appears every single time you disagree with him about how much of an amazing person you are. “Other people’s ignorance and stupidity has no reflection on you. None of that has anything to do with you being a perfect human being.” He whispers, yet his determination and absolute unwavering belief in his words are still all-too-clear. “You’re kind, honest, generous, funny, smart and have more love to give than anyone else i’ve ever known! Those are the things that make you perfect.”

A tiny subconscious smile curls the corners of your lips. “Is that all? I’m pretty sure you forgot a couple of reasons actually…”

Luke arches one of his golden eyebrows, a silent urge for you to continue. 

“Well, the fact that I make the best pancakes on earth has to count, right?” You giggle, pecking a kiss to Luke’s lips. 

When he pulls away a moment later, your boyfriend rests his forehead against yours, his unruly caramel coloured curls falling into your face and tickling your cheeks. “You’re right, precious… That definitely strengthens your position.”

“Speaking of positions…” You smirk cheekily. “I refuse to believe that you’ve ever had anyone that can 69 better than me.”

Luke laughs, running one hand down your arm until he can tangle his fingers through yours. “I’ve always told you that you’re the best at that.” He agrees easily. “I’m glad it was so easy for me to convince you how amazing you are.”

Despite the fact that you’ll never be able to fully rid your mind of the doubts that years of terrible experiences have buried within you, it’s getting easier to remind yourself that you’re not all bad afterall. You only have Luke to thank for that and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life showing him how grateful you are to have him.

“Room service will be here in about an hour.” Luke whispers into the comfortable silence that had settled over you both. “I thought we could eat out on the balcony, it overlooks the whole city.”

You tilt your head just enough to look out of the large window at the view beyond it. The sun is setting over the city, casting a warm orange glow over the impressive buildings and the seemingly endless tangle of roads. It really is an incredibly beautiful sight. 

“It’ll look even prettier when it's all lit up after dark!” Luke rambles, apparently feeling the need to convince you that he’s planned everything out well.

“It already looks gorgeous, Luke.” You smile softly, turning back to capture his lips in another kiss. “The view in here is even better, though. You know I love how pretty you look at sunset.” 

A slight blush heats Luke’s cheeks as he kisses you back a little more enthusiastically. “Not as beautiful as you, precious.” He mumbles between kisses.

“Hey if we have an hour to kill until our food gets here, do you fancy testing out this massive bed with me?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, jabbing your thumb in the direction of the fancy four poster bed you’d noticed when you first walked into the room.

“I plan to put that to very good use later, but there’s something I want to do first.” Luke smiles bashfully. “Before we both get too drunk on champagne, I want to do this.” He pecks a kiss to the end of your nose before pulling his phone from his pocket. He taps away on the screen for a few moments before the unmistakable intro to ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ by INXS begins to play through some unseen speakers. That’s probably why it’d taken him a little while, he was connecting his phone to the sound system. “We have to dance to our song on our anniversary, it’s tradition!”

Luke’s eyes twinkle in the dying light, just as they had done when he’d walked you home from your first date. This song had been playing in a bar across the road from your apartment building when he’d finally plucked up the courage to kiss you goodnight. You’d insisted that he sing it with you a few weeks later when you’d taken him to a karaoke bar on a date. A few months after that you’d danced to it together at his cousin’s wedding reception. Luke had also insisted that it be the first song you listened to together on your first night after moving in with him. It was undeniably your song, something special that ran through the fabric of your entire relationship, always reminding you of significant moments in your journey together.

Taking Luke’s hand, you allow him to pull you into his chest before you follow his lead, swaying clumsily to the song. “I love you, precious.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, don’t you?”

You nod, knowing that now is not the time to dwell on all of the reasons why you think that Luke deserves so much more than you. “Who knows how you’d cope without my talented mouth and skills in the kitchen, eh?” You giggle, still unable to take the compliment properly.

Luke rolls his eyes fondly before resting his cheek on the top of your head. “I’m trying to have a serious moment with you, dorkface.” He mumbles, although his tone is much softer than he undoubtedly means it to be.

“I’m sorry, I'll Shut up now.” You promise, snuggling into your ridiculously tall boyfriend. 

The two of you sway together slowly for a few moments in silence, before Luke pulls enough to meet your gaze. “I mean it y’know.” He mumbles, his cheeks flushing again. “Every time I tell you that you mean the world to me.” Luke clarifies. “I sort of think it’s about time I show you how serious I am, rather than just using words all the time.”

You’re more than a little confused by his statement. “You show me all the time, Luke.” You reassure him. “Like when you take a ten minute detour on your way home from work at least once a week, just to pick up my favourite chocolate cupcakes from that fancy bakery. Surprises like this trip count, too!”

“I’m talking about something more permanent than cupcakes and weekend trips, precious.” Luke clarifies. 

When you offer him nothing more than a confused expression as a response, Luke takes both of your hands in one of his before reaching into the pocket of his jeans with the other. “I was gonna wait until we were eating our fancy meal out on the balcony to do this…” He sighs nervously. “But this moment feels much more fitting.”

Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, Luke drops down on one knee, still holding your hands in one of his as he lifts the other to reveal a tiny black box. “Luke!” You gasp, wriggling one of your hands free of his grasp in order to cover your gaping mouth with it.

He whispers your name as tears well in his eyes when he opens the box to reveal a simple gold band. “Will you marry me?”

Tears are streaming down your own face as you drop to ground, wrapping both arms around Luke and almost knocking the ring from his hand. Your throat feels so thick with emotion that you’re pretty sure you’re not able to form words, so you nod frantically, hoping that’ll be a good enough answer.

Luke must realise that your silent gesture is the best he can hope for in the moment, as he takes the ring from the box and backs up just enough to give him space to slide it onto your finger. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wait, I…”

You cut him off with a kiss, holding his face tenderly, not caring about how his damp cheeks are making your hands wet. 

When you finally pull apart for air, Luke meets your gaze, staring into your eye like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. “You’ve just made me the happiest guy in the universe.” He whispers, his voice still thick with tears.

You smile back at him, hoping that you can convey every ounce of love you have for him through that lingering moment of eye contact. “I think that’s me, actually…”

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[comradelionheart]

This is where I feel safest.

In the blueness of this site, held in comfort as if under my blanket of soft fur.

No one here will ever know who I am or the people I speak of. No one can find me here. I have a questionable habit of running off to avoid being witnessed when I fail or am in pain, and this is where I run to. It is luckily not a boy this time. Well, it’s sort of that too, but not predominantly.

I haven’t shut G out this time. When I thought I’d lost my shot at the job I deleted my WhatsApp and all other social media, and refused to surface until I was willing to face people again. This isn’t unlike when I graduated college uncertain of what to do with life next and just... vanished. I’d a pretty promising presence on Facebook that could potentially have introduced him and I sooner, but I guess life unravels at its own pace and nothing can force it to go sooner or slower. I’ve grown rather accepting of failures because I have unfortunately grown accustomed to them. It’s almost like I expect to meet with resistance or failure each time something nearly works out and in this case I can’t say I willed it upon myself. I literally tested positive for TB. Which is amusing since those are my ex’s initials, and is yet another TB which seems to be hampering my progress. 

Dry humour is what I’m best at if I’m being my authentic self. I must unfortunately smile and wave because I’m a woman and need to be likeable to get anywhere in my line of work. That isn’t to say I’m a sociopath or hate people. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in their lives and feign amusement at their not so novel ideas. Pretty sure I’ve not so novel ideas too, but I don’t need to be indulged for the sake of my (not) fragile ego. Anyhow.

I applied for this job early in the year and didn't expect to hear from them (because the first few years of my work life had me flailing and coping with depression instead of steering my career, and I know I shouldn’t grudge her for this but I do). But I did hear from them. And everything went through. Including 3 rounds of aptitude tests and a personal interview (which I thought I bombed but didn't somehow). Until I tested positive on a skin patch test for TB. Why do these stupid standard sets of tests get prescribed world over? Honestly, if I’m ever supreme leader of anywhere I will ban standardised tests. Not in the way that I say medicine is a sham, not at all, but in the way that WE LIVE IN THE THIRD WORLD AND WILL OF COURSE HAVE TAKEN THE BCG OR HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE BACTERIA AT SOME POINT BUT IT’S NOT NECESSARILY EVER GOING TO BE ACTIVE SO USE A BETTER AND MORE CONTEXT SPECIFIC TEST INSTEAD OF GIVING ME ANXIETY AND EXISTENTIAL CRISES LIKE THESE, JFC. 😭😭😭

But I’ve taken the other test and that’s also got the drawback of being unable to differentiate between inert and active TB. So I took an HRCT scan. I’m so sick of running around hospitals, there’s a literal virus in the air. But Monday is when I’ll know the medical verdict. And then there’s the whole security check process. I hate when this happens but I’ve lost so much time to grief, I simply cannot sit around moping any longer. 

Earlier this year I interviewed with the **. I was given a verbal confirmation and had a text message implying an offer was made to me, because I received an acknowledgement to my acceptance of an offer. If I was the person I was in 2014, I’d have kicked up a fuss and made sure that offer was honoured, but 2021 me knows that working with bosses who go back on their word slyly and cave to nepotism usually need their cocks sucked. And I’m not only incapable of that, but have also dealt with enough workplace harassment elsewhere to be adamant about a brand at the risk of my mental health. But really, he can go suck it because I have confirmation from staff that he is EVERYTHING I read him to be. I’m not intuitive or anything, I just read people very well because I was hurt so bad by them (repeatedly since childhood) that reading people became a thing I did for survival. My sharp instincts serve me well, but are a trauma response. I am very self aware too, yes.

I then interviewed and got through an NGO that was willing to pay me 24L. I turned it down because the founders were running around like headless chicken with their inability to distinguish PR from Marketing Comms (me) from Marketing for business development. I know I was being paid a lot of money, but I will not kill myself performing all three functions while being acknowledged for just the one on my offer letter. I’ve learned to value my labour capacity and assert myself in the economic and political spheres. 

Personally though? I sometimes still think I’m a romantic pushover.

But this is about work because I need to weep a little before being calm about how this year has treated me. Especially since I’m maintaining a cool demeanour in public and literally hate sharing things I’m burdened with. Idk man, it makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like feeling like I’ll get a knife twisted in the spot that's most sore. I AM SCREAMING BECAUSE I HAVE LET G WITNESS ME IN PAIN THIS TIME INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY and will someday file copyright over An Enduring Romantic because that’s very honestly me. But ofc it isn’t going to be the legal Copyright, just the sham notice like the one I’d sent him to up his Instagram game. Or he could just operate my Twitter and I’ll run his gram. It’ll even feel natural.

Sometime around May an environmental journal asked me to come on board. Work from the office at the height of the pandemic with no travel compensation and very little money. I turned them down. Then came II**. Which I again turned down because they wouldn’t pay market rate for skills I’ve perfected in 4 years just because they wanted 8 years experience on paper for my quotation. I will do a lot for causes I love, but I also really enjoy being paid fairly and acknowledged for the value I bring to the table.

Then came the start up in Del. Which I turned down because the uncle running it in his wife’s name expected 24*7 labour availability for 12L with no health insurance.

The latest in my list of things I’ve turned down is the ** Gov. Which I can obviously go back to since my reason for turning it down was another job, but 14 days of leave all year? 7 day work week if needed? Hell no. I enjoy having labour rights. But also when I told the dude I’d be reporting to if I accepted that I cant accept due to covid concerns his reaction was “sure, send me an email so we can start looking for someone else immediately.” Like.... we just had a second wave, what if something was wrong? I wouldn’t risk losing my job because they expect work even if I were hypothetically coughing up blood. So best not to touch with a bargepole. Now I’m less sad, but also really hope the TB results are negative. This job I want and have said yes to ticks off all of the boxes in my head and I will truly be disappointed if I lose it to disease paranoia despite being completely suited and picked for the role 😞

Just to be on the safer side, I have taken one last shot at achieving my goal of ‘learn how political systems work so you know what you’re talking about first hand in that PhD.’ I hope my Plan A works out instead, though.

Since I’ve brought him up in this, it will be interesting to note that a year ago I did the erstwhile unthinkable act of cutting a friend of for attempting to steal a man I love. A year ago to the date, literally. Funny how this year is more calm, but I was maxed out on endorphins from him last year. Until this March even, if I’m being truthful. I don’t regret cutting her off.She crossed a vvvv red line. ALL my other friends are celebrating. They detested her. 

Another thing that happened last year was me letting him know that I only get hotter with time, but along with this work drama I have also had a run in with intense grief which I thought was a mood disorder (because it was intense, I mentioned?), cholesterol, thyroid, sugar addiction and now, le TB (PLEASE BE A FALSE POSITIVE YESU KRISTU HALP). So needless to say, I haven’t been most fabulous and undergone my physical transformation and these mental health struggles (are getting better now) strapped me to my couch along with the pandemic and its many lockdowns. I have also not studied for the GRE because I’m stimulus seeking via social media and fear of sucking at math has kept me locked in place. I still have a lot to work through on this front and would really like to make his cover right too, but my creativity isn't working and I keep fucking it up. I am not as spectacular as I was last year. The separation has also weathered my dazzle out a little and while I’m living with it, I still have small waves of sadness that show up once in a while.

I might have also accidentally flirted with someone into falling for me. It was all fun and games and for my pride, but now I’ve to gently let them down since I’ve cold feet and am chicken. Because I’m as emotionally unavailable as a streetlamp. Is this why they call me a Gurgaoni fuckboi?

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The night we shared for the first time + hamliza (bc who else) please?

Here it is, the AU you’ve all been waiting for! 

Best Friends and a Baby AU!

(Also, seeing as it’s my birthday, if you fancy giving me an amazing, completely free of charge present you could always leave a comment on this or any of my fics on Ao3! And for the more affluent, I have a ko-fi)

Forthe second time in as many weeks, Alexander Hamilton found himself on aspectacularly, singularly uncomfortable chair, looking at his best friend withan utterly staggered expression in his wide, brown eyes and straining his earsthrough the ambient chatter around him in the vain hope that he’d just misheardand she didn’t just say what he thought she’d said. It was a pretty damnspecific situation to be in but it was one that he was starting to find eerilyfamiliar; one he assumed with a sinking heart he wasn’t through with.

“I’msorry, it’s how much?” he stressed, his hands shifting restlessly in thedeep pockets of the hoodie he wore, a nervous, fidgeting tic he’d been doingsince he took his seat in the waiting room and hadn’t stopped or even slowed.

Elizasighed deeply, tiredly and pulled the stiff pamphlet the doctor had just givenher out from under her arm and pushed it across the seat between them towardsAlex, the relevant page open so she wouldn’t have to say it again and tastethat sour disappointment.

“Fuckinghell,” Alex winced at the sight of the figures almost apologetically printed onthe page, a breakdown of all the medications needed and the consultanciesrequired and the procedures involved, each with its own piece of stone to addto the enormous boulder of a sum at the very bottom line.

“Yeah.That about sums it up,” Eliza allowed with a forced shrug, “And I’d have totake time off work too. For yet more hospital appointments.”

“Oh,”Alex grunted, biting his lower lip and freeing one hand from his cavernoussweater to play with his hair, a sure sign that he’d shifted onto a whole otherplane of anxiety. He knew how much Eliza despised hospitals, it was a miracleand a testament to how much she wanted this that she was even here today, “That…that sucks.”

‘Sucks’felt like it fell a few thousand miles short of what this situation was. Alex’sstomach felt like it had detached from whatever biological skulduggery held itin place and was bouncing loose inside his stomach, the sensation someone wouldprobably have if they’d been riding one of those proper skull-shattering,skeleton-rearranging roller coasters for two weeks straight. Which was prettymuch exactly what Alex had been experiencing, albeit in more of an emotionalthan literal sense.

Hecouldn’t deny that the overwhelming emotion he’d felt when it had become clearthat his best friend didn’t intend for this to be one of their usual lunchdates where they spouted bile about their colleagues who were driving them upthe wall (mostly Alex) or entertained with stories of what ridiculous RichPeople Shit their family had pulled this week (exclusively Eliza), the emotionthat ruled his mind in that instant was fear. He refused to feel guilty forthat and knew Eliza wouldn’t expect it of him. How else was he supposed toreact when the girl whose right-hand man he’d been since the very first day ofcollege, when he’d made an admittedly shaky but impactful first impression bywalking into her and spilling black coffee down the both of them, took hishands across their usual table at their favourite place to eat in the city andasked him in that firm but quiet voice of her’s if he’d mind having a baby withher. She genuinely did phrase it like that, of course she did.

She’dclarified a little better after Alex had recovered from choking on his soda andspending ten minutes hacking and spluttering loud enough to turn most otherheads in the cafe towards them. Her eyes had grown anxious and her cheeks hadturned pink as she’d insisted that she wasn’t asking anything of him but asperm donation, she’d thought about this so carefully and agonised over it formonths, she couldn’t think of anyone better than him, she trusted him, if hedidn’t want to be involved with…what it produced, no obligation at all, ofcourse she’d understand…

Allwhile Alex felt like someone had whipped away the classy hardwood floorsunderneath his feet and left him spiralling through empty space. Memories he’dhoped to never feel invading his brain again were piling up faster than hecould tip them back down into the darker recesses of his mind, giving him thesensation of swarms of spiders clambering and skittering over him, gettingunder his skin. The word father didn’t have amazing connotations forAlex, it never had, but he’d been able to avoid it for a long time while he wasat college and law school, only getting the slightest roiling stomachs andsweaty palms and lips chewed until they bled when his friends would talk abouttheir children, Lafayette and Martha and even John would talk of his daughteroften and fondly. Of course, the panic would only last until he actually metthe little sprogs, they were all cute and funny and liked how their Tio Alexkept marker pens in his pockets so they could colour in his tattoos; theanxiety never held up long after that but there would still be that twinge deepin his stomach at the word alone. He wasn’t sure that was ever going away butat least it was small enough to cope with.

Andthere he was in the middle of the cafe, trying to hide a goddamn riot behind agrin that was turning into a grimace and eyes that were far too shiny to beconsidered normal. And somewhere in the middle of it all, while his back wasturned and his brain occupied with damage control, with putting out as manysmall fires on the inside of his skull as he could before it could turn into aconflagration, a ‘yes’ slipped past his gritted teeth.

Bothhim and Eliza had been utterly stunned by that, nothing passing between thembut a shared look of slack, wide eyed surprise. Alex hadn’t even been awarethat there was a ‘yes’ lurking somewhere, battling its way through his anxiety,through beating winds and raging storms to climb off his tongue ahead of thefrantic screech that oh fuck, he just remembered he’s parked by a meter and heleft his iron on at home and he doesn’t speak English and he only has two moreseconds to live, please excuse him…

Butit had worked so hard to get there…so he supposed that was his answer?

Sohere Alex was, being confronted with the damnable highway robbery that was theAmerican medical system and trying to platonically make a baby with his bestfriend. What exactly his game plan was in the moment his…stuff mixed up withEliza’s…stuff and made…more stuff and he was technically no longer neededaccording to the laws of biology, of that he wasn’t exactly sure. He could tellEliza was wondering but she hadn’t pressed, she’d only began to cry and leaptacross the table to give him one of her patented, full body, vice tight hugsthat showed how much unexpected strength was in those delicate arms of her’s.Alex didn’t really think he deserved so much thanks, that he’d earned that lookof awe and adoration in her eyes when she looked at him ever since that fatefullunch date, just for saying yes to jacking off into a specimen cup. That’s allhe’d said a firm yes to. In the few weeks since that day, he’d been franticallycombing his mind for another scrap of certainty to present itself and tell himwhat his brain wanted but it seemed to have completely dried up after the firsttime. Which was pretty fucking rich of his brain, to get him into thissituation and then bail entirely, leaving him with just a terrifying, panicstreaked blankness.

Buthe was here. He loved Eliza, he wanted to help and he’d hold to his promise.Besides, it was only himself he was terrified over, he knew without a singleshred of doubt that Eliza would be a fantastic mother, so wonderful and perfectfor the job that it would be kind of criminal to deprive a child of being bornbelonging to her. Maybe that love and assurance would be enough to cancel outhis contribution…

“Howis it so expensive?” Alex exclaimed, reading the paper again like he could willit to be more palatable, “I mean…isn’t it just like a fancy turkey baster?”

Elizascrewed up her face, making her nose that could only be described in that clichédbut sweet way as ‘button’ crinkle adorably, “Ew, Alex.”

“I’mpretty sure that’s what it is,” Alex crossed his arms defensively, “I did do myreading.”

Hehad, in fact. Alexander Hamilton didn’t do anything without researching itfully first.

Elizaran her fingers through her hair, twisting it into curtains around her facelike she always did when she was stressed, “Well…I guess we can’t do thisright now.”

Alexwinced. He’d love to offer to cover the cost of the procedure, hell even halfof it would do, but college and law school had left him with a crippling amountof debt and not an awful lot else. He’d arrived on his very first day with nextto nothing and had somehow come out the other side with even less.

“Couldyou ask your parents?” he suggested, not liking the idea even as it came out ofhis mouth but he just wanted to do something to take that devastated look offher face.

Elizalooked down at her hands, retreating even more into the sanctuary of her hair,“Um…I would but…they aren’t really fans of the idea.”

Thatjarred him. Not only was Eliza making this huge decision, and entrusting awhole huge chunk of her future happiness to him, she was doing it without thesupport of her parents. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first timein the twenty-six years she’d been alive that such a thing had happened.

“Oh…”Another thought closed up his throat and made his fingers tense into fists,“Are they…not fans of the whole idea or of the fact that it’s gonna be mybaby?”

Eliza’seyes widened, ‘Oh! Oh, no, no it’s not that, I promise. They’ve not liked itfrom the start, I told them I was thinking about it a while ago and well…thereaction wasn’t great. They just don’t get it.” Her voice grew so faint and sadat the end, her eyes dropping, her tone resigned but as if she’d still hopedfor better in spite of the evidence.

“I’m sorry, Bets…” Alex murmured in as soft a voice as he could evermanage, reaching across and taking her hand, gently moving it from pulling ather hair to clasping it in his lap with both of his own. If there was anyonewho understood general parental shittiness, it was him.

“Hey,it’s okay,” Eliza said, smiling with her usual quiet bravery, “I don’t mind.This is just a setback, right? We can come back to this in… I don’t know, ayear or so. Less if I let my car finally die and start roller-skating aroundNew York. Hey, maybe I’ll have an even more stable job and this will turn outto be for the best?”

“Morelike you’ll find a much better sperm source,” Alex lifted an eyebrow, smilingcrookedly.

“Hey…”Eliza socked him lightly on the arm, “Stop that. I don’t want anyone else, youknow that.”

Alexchuckled, appreciating the lengths she’d go to in defending him from himself,in silent awe of her which, in fairness, was how he spent most of his timearound Eliza. But he knew that face. He’d seen that face at 2am when they’dbeen sharing a cab back from the bar and she’d stuck her head out of the windowto see the lights rushing by and feel the wind in her hair. He’d seen that faceat half past eight, with thirty minutes to go before their final exam, blearyeyed with wild bird nest hair and a look of fierce, caffeine fuelleddetermination the likes of which he’d never seen. He’d seen it illuminated fromwithin like there was some kind of power source behind her eyes that otherpeople didn’t seem to have, a kind of sun that worked on pure joy and wonder,so bright that it could even warm someone like him. He’d seen that face nearlyevery day of his life for the past six years and he knew how to read it.

Andright now, he could see plain as day that Eliza was devastated.

She’dlooked so excited, that joy there again, as she’d taken him through all thethinking and daydreaming she’d done about this, how she’d known the time wasright now that she’d gotten herself a low paying but at least steady job, doingsome kind of clerk or data stuff type for one of the orphanages in town. It hadthe right hours, she could advance in time and with the time she’d beenspending with Dosia’s two boys and Martha’s little Frances and the gaggle ofkids Laf had been producing since the scarily young age of eighteen, she justwas so certain that this was what she wanted. And a year was a hell of a longtime to wait for something you wanted that badly.

Maybeit was that thought, that desperate need to offer her some kind of help, orelse pure and simple stupidity, the rise of his chronic and terminal foot inmouth disease, that made Alex say what he then said next. Or maybe it wassomething else entirely. Maybe, and this was a pretty shaky maybe, it was hisown want for this crazy, insane thing to happen. Maybe it was the fact that, asterrified and confused as this whole thing had made Alex at the start, rightnow? The thought of having to let go of the idea was more than he could bear.

So,he said it.

“Well,why don’t we just do things the old-fashioned way?” he tilted his head, tonelight and airy but there was no solid evidence that he was joking, “You andme?”

Elizalooked at him, a snarky comeback loaded and ready to go on her tongue but whenshe saw his face, her face became a mask of comic surprise.

“Theold-fashioned way?” she asked in a voice that was half scandalised, halfastounded, “As in…like…that.”

“Sex,Eliza, yes,” Alex filled in the gap for her, “You and me. Having sex. To make ababy. That is how it’s worked for thousands of years so…”

Elizagaped at him, reminding Alex of something his mama used to say, about closingyour mouth before you started catching flies. Absurdly calm, enough to reachover and delicately bringing her lower jaw up to close her lips, Alex smiledbemusedly. There didn’t seem to be any flies in here but you could never be toocareful.

“Imean…” he clarified, “This is something people do, right? They hook up forreasons other than, y’know, that they’re in a relationship. Platonic like. I’mnot gonna lie and say I don’t find you attractive, certainly enough to get thejob done. I may be setting myself up for a Mike Tyson blow to the ego here butI think I know you well enough, Bets, to say that you feel the same about me.”

“Butit’s…” Eliza found some words, if fragmented and scattered, “I… I do and I…I know what you’re talking about but…I do love you, Alex…but it’sweird!”

Alexpursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, “As weird as asking your friend todonate sperm?”

Elizaflushed a little, “Okay, smarty pants. Now we’re even.”

Hechuckled, noting that she still hadn’t taken her hand back from his own, shehadn’t moved away from him, “It is weird. But it makes a lot of sense, doesn’tit? We’re both single and young and pretty damn good looking and, mostimportantly, we care a whole damn lot about each other. And you’d get a baby,free of charge with no hospital fuckery required.”

Elizapercolated the logic in her head for awhile, Alex did always have a gift forselling his utterly madcap, bonkers ideas in a way that made them seem like thebest option for everyone involved. And she’d never seen him be wrong yet…notcompletely anyway.

And,if she was being completely honest with herself? At the thought of a night withAlex, freshman Eliza had perked up considerably and was currently bouncing onthe balls of her feet. Her crush on him had been intense, with it being hervery first and all, but it had settled with age as they both grew and maturedand the whole thing that once very possible could have been just neverhappened. Alex was the best friend she’d ever known outside of her family,someone who understood her completely inside and out and somehow still wantedto know more.

She’dalways love him and she was dizzyingly excited at the possibility of being amother. Ever since Alex had said yes, she’d been daydreaming of a tiny littlething who curled into her chest looking for love and safety that she was sowilling to give in staggering amounts, something beautiful that she could lookat with pride and know they would always belong to her and her to them. Herlittle piece of the universe. And yes, with Alex’s wry smile and thirst tolearn and to persevere through anything. The slight weirdness of having sexwith her best friend would be well worth that price.

Andwith half the stuff she and Alex had been through together, what was seeingeach other naked? What was a little roll in the sheets between friends?

“Okay,”Eliza had to laugh a little as she said it, feeling like a character in asitcom about to cut to commercial, “Just to get me pregnant.”

Herlaugh was infectious, soon Alex was giggling helplessly too. It was hard notto.

“Hey,it’s not even that weird, right?” he snorted, muffling his laughter in hissleeve so they didn’t get any more suspicious glances from the nurses andpatients around them, “Just think of it as me loaning you ten dollars. Except,y’know, instead of money, picture my penis…”

Elizalaughed even harder then, so hard tears began building in her eyes, “I thinkI’d rather not.”

“Well,yes, it’s a terrible metaphor,” he chuckled, “But in my defense, this situationis pretty damn rare.”

Thatwas certainly true. Rare and wild and risky. But that was kind of how Alex andEliza had always operated.

Elizashifted a little closer, only looking cuter red in the face and glittery in theeye from laughter, her hands knotting together with Alex’s, “You really are thebest friend ever, Hamilton.”

“Hey,let’s reserve all accolades until you’ve seen my moves, okay?” Alex chuckled,grinning that way he did that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up. But hestill kissed her cheek as they got up to leave, “And you’re my best friend evertoo. Which is exactly why you get the privilege of seeing me naked.”

“Oh,shut up, Hamilton,” Eliza grinned, “I take it back. Now, come on and knock meup.”

Alexscrewed up his face, trying not to dissolve into hysterics again, “Your placeor mine?”

Theanswer to that question was obviously Eliza’s place. Alex had a little cornerof the heights where you could touch both walls at once by stretching out yourarms and the whole thing rattled whenever the elevated train rushed past, insuch a way that all the furniture was rearranged when it was gone. That and itwas inhabited by Alex himself, who’d turned it into a nightmarish hoarder’snest. Not exactly the most sexy of locations, there were no pornographic filmsset amongst stacks of books threatening to fall over and boxes full of halfeaten pizza and groaning folders of case files fit to burst.

So,Eliza’s it was.

Bothof them let out twin sighs of relief once Eliza had put a glass of wine in eachof their hands, it made things feel a little easier. There was a thick pull oftension in the air, one that threatened the whole madcap operation until theycaught each other’s eye in the middle of a slightly stilted conversation on howAlex’s last few job interviews had been going (Eliza had been coaching him forevery single one). Then they both just bust out laughing.

“Idon’t think the whole ignoring the elephant in the room thing is working?” Alexgrinned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Want to just call it what it is and dothe damn thing?”

Elizasnorted, nearly getting rose right up her nose, “And would ‘the damn thing’ inthis case be me?”

Thatmade Alex laugh out loud, the tension in the pit of his stomach uncoiling andslithering away to hide, the way it always seemed to when Eliza was around,“Good thing this isn’t a date or I’d be out on my ass, huh?”

“Coursenot, I’d give you at least two more strikes,” she chuckles, “Though, to befair, if this was a date I wouldn’t be inviting you to my bedroom this early.Which I am about to do, heads up.”

“Thanks,”he smirked, clambering to his feet. He didn’t need Eliza to show him where herbedroom was, he’d slept over a good handful of times, after parties where Elizadeemed him too tipsy to get himself home.

Ithad to be said, the room was quintessentially Eliza. She couldn’t do much aboutthe faded carpet in the living room or the squat, leather sofas or the kitchencupboards that were the colour of phlegm, in Alex’s own words. But the bedroom,tucked away in the corner of the apartment with a window that looked out onto afire escape where she could perch on an evening and watch the sun sink belowthe New York skyline, leaving the stars free to come out, like a million eyesopening cautiously, only gleaming as bright as they could through the thick pollutionas soon as they saw the coast was clear. The room itself was a dusty blue, asoothing colour that seemed to wrap itself around you and keep you safe, thepalate broken only by the many, many photos of her loved ones on the wall (manyof them included Alex) and the rainbow of books and the bursts of green asflowering plants and succulents gathered like old friends embracing on everyspare surface. The quilt on her bed was the same one Alex remembered from herdorm room and every other place she’d lived since, the one she, of course, hadmade herself.

Thewhole scene was just so familiar to him as he stepped inside, trotting atEliza’s heels, so warm and safe and forgiving that he relaxed in spite of thefact that this was a step closer to go time. It was just that this room, maybein different locations but the same room in essence, had seen the absoluteworst of him- crying, having a panic attack, blind drunk, angry- and yet stillwelcomed him back.

Alot like Eliza herself.

“Okay,”Eliza spoke decisively, as if the awkwardness could be wrestled intononexistence by a firm word and a pair of crossed arms, “Kiss me. That’ll letme know if I actually want to do this or not.”

Alextilted his head a little, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up his arms, “ButI kiss you all the time?”

Andhe did, it was true, pecks on the cheek and forehead to make her smile when shewas feeling blue or in joyous awe after she yet again saved his ass with aperfectly timed up of coffee or one of her wonderfully simple solutions thatsomehow utterly fixed problems that he’d been chewing over for days.

“No,I mean…” Eliza searched for words, looking a little exasperated, “Kiss me likeyou’d kiss someone you really wanted to have sex with. Kiss me like…likesomeone you were dying to see naked, like you’re going to explode if you don’tget with them right this minute.”

Alexgave a little snort of disbelief but he stepped forward all the same andwithout another thought in his head, he brought his best friend close to him byway of firm hands on her shoulders and a swift, sure movement, pressing herlips to his, thinking of passion and love and want. He let his lips part alittle after a few moments, after she relaxed in his hold, tilting his head toclose just that little bit of unnecessary distance and was gratified to findher mirroring him. How long the kiss lasted, neither of them were really surebut it ended with both of them a little reluctant to let it go, leaving theundeniable answer as ‘not long enough’.

“So…”Alex murmured, a rasp in his voice.

“Yeah,”Eliza’s eyes were wide and her pupils seemed so big that Alex could fall intothem, “Yeah, I want to do this.”

Hesmiled that crooked smile of his though, underneath it, he was thinking thatthe kiss didn’t really feel all that different from any other time he’d kissedher, which was…disconcerting.

Theydecided to shed their clothes at the same time, in the interests of fairness.

Elizadiscovered that Alex had a lot more tattoos than she’d ever imagined, one’s hehad mentioned to her but she’d never seen with her own eyes, diminishing their expansiveness.Constellations scattered across his lower stomach, she’d seen them poking upabove the line of his pants when he stretched but she’d never realised how farthey reached, how detailed and beautiful in their simplicity they were. A papersailboat trekked bravely across his upper thigh, waves crashing around it, afeathered quill penned a long, looping line of ink up the length of one leg,smatterings of English, French and Spanish were carefully etched onto variousparts of him, curling around clocks and birds and flowers and a Puerto Ricanflag. He was a work of art.

Alexdiscovered a kind of roundness, a fullness, to Eliza around her hips, thighsand stomach. There were curves and slopes and valleys usually hidden underneathher clothes, a smattering of stretch marks he hadn’t known existed, a fewfreckles that moved up the inside of a thigh to places he couldn’t see fromhere but found himself desperately wanting to follow them. His fingers itchedto touch that softness, follow the curves and squeeze and stroke and kiss.

Itwas amazing what new things you could learn from someone with one glance andthe absence of clothes.

Elizahad read up on good positions for conceiving, where gravity could hopefullyplay its part, bringing all the right elements close enough together for thespark to catch and a baby to start forming, like the way dust and gas collectedinto stars under the same force. A pillow under her hips and sprawled backagainst the cushions, she felt a little silly but all Alex could think of wasthe intoxicating darkness of her hair against the sheer white pillows, the wayshe could look up at him as he moved to take his place between her knees, thesoftness now right there under him and nothing to stop him reaching out andcaressing it.

Noone needed to make any kind of verbal request now, their lips met entirely oftheir own accord, though it was Alex who started the gentle nipping at Eliza’slower lip, already a little drunk on kissing her full, slightly swollen,beautifully dusky pink lips, the spine tingling but not unwelcome sensation ofhis tongue sliding over her’s. Though it only took a few seconds before Elizawas responding in kind, her hands coming up to tangle in his thick, dark massof hair and keep him good and close.

Alexalmost made a total idiot out of himself and stopped to request a condom beforehe remembered the whole goddamn point of this and just went for it, needing toshuffle her over a little, raise his own hips, fumble just a tiny amount andthen he was there, with a low sighfrom himself and a short gasp of surprise from Eliza. He almost stopped, terrifiedhe’d caused some hurt, moved to fast, moved without permission, taken too muchtoo soon. But then Eliza’s legs were thrown around his hips, her feet pressinginto his lower back and pushing him, if anything, deeper.

Herteeth grazed his earlobe and she murmured in a tone that was nothing short ofbegging, “Please.”

Alexwasn’t about to make her ask twice. He didn’t think, he didn’t ask for anylogic or reason, he just chased this wild desire in his chest and the plea inhis friend’s voice. He rocked her, heavy and rhythmic, into the softness of themattress, never taking his eyes off her, not wanting to miss a second of theway she bit her lip and her eyes rolled back when he hit home and her pupils swelledand her face took on the achingly beautiful blush of fresh rose petals. It goteven better when his thumb, apparently of its own volition, slipped down andpressed none too lightly against her clit; that made her cry out loud, herexpression rapturous, panting as she climbed higher and higher under hm.

Assoon as he saw her getting there, the only thing he wanted to do in the wholedamn world was get her there faster, harder, better, the pace of his lithe hipsincreasing until the bed springs began to make themselves heard and Eliza’ssweet little gasps became louder and higher, melding into one wordless cry.Alex wasn’t even really aware that the low, wanton growl was his own, the onethat pitched so perfectly with the noises she was making. He just lost sight ofhimself in the pull of her muscles, the feeling of her fingers tugging at hishair, the beautiful heat where their bodies joined and his thumb rubbed.

Asdistracted as he was by what he was doing to her, what she was giving him inreturn, his own climax caught him by such surprise that Alex felt the wholeroom, the whole damn world, tip dizzily around him as his hips jerkederratically and he spent himself inside her. Though he didn’t miss Eliza cominga second or two behind him, writhing so uncontrollably that he was a littleworried for a moment, until the tension let them both go and they were leftexhausted and a little bit shaken.

Alexand Eliza both held their breath, waiting for the awkwardness to comebarrelling back with a vengeance, braced for it, Alex actually mapping outwhere he’d left his clothes so he could scramble back into them as swiftly aspossible and bolt for the door. But it never seemed to find them, like they’dsuccessfully held their breaths and stilled their bodies and it had just passedthem by.

Theyuntangled themselves as painlessly as they could, leaving Alex to roll onto hisback by Eliza’s side, both just catching their breath. At some point theirhands found each other and joined, subtly and gently, without either of themreally being aware of it. It was a long time before either of them saidanything.

“I…well,hopefully that worked,” Eliza found her voice first, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Yeah…”Alex began, short of breath, gazing straight ahead just like she was, like theyboth recognized that that was a safe place for their eyes to rest. Who knewwhat might happen if they went wandering? “Though…what are the chances that yougot pregnant back there?”

Elizablinked, her free hand fluttering unconsciously to her stomach, resting therelightly, “I’m not sure. Low, I guess, relatively speaking.”

Alexspoke as casually as he could, “Well then, it would make sense, wouldn’t it,if, y’know, as long as you were still ovulating, we…we kept doing that?”

Therewas a slight mutual wince as they both froze, waiting to see of what he’d justsaid had crossed the line, upset the painfully delicate balance they stood onhere. But there was no thunder, no sudden swarm of locusts, the earth didn’topen up underneath the bed. Nothing happened.

“Imean, it’s only logical,” Eliza murmured, “Yeah, why not?”

Evenas they (eventually) dressed and gathered themselves back together, it stillfelt like something important hadn’t been said, there was the feeling of a gapgoing unfilled, a missing step. It was still there as Alex stood on Eliza’sstoop, lingering as they said goodbye, both of them feeling this glaringabsence.

“Hey…”Eliza called out as Alex’s sneakers touched down on the sidewalk, reaching in asudden, frantic rush to fix the problem. But as Alex turned back, looking ather quizzically with his wide, brown eyes, she didn’t know what to say.

So,what she said was, “You know you’re my favourite person ever, right?”

Alexcracked a smile, chuckling gently, “Yeah. You’re my favourite too.”

Itwasn’t quite right. But it would do for now.

[livingwithashipname-blog]

Ermanda’s Inner Sanctum: Scorpion 4.07 “Go With the Flo(rence)”

I liked this episode, but it failed to live up to its predecessor (2.09 US vs. UN vs. UK) referenced through MI6 agent, Gemma.  The premises were very similar: Scorpion was commissioned for a job with an ulterior motive they didn’t realize until they reached a point of no return.  This episode’s strength came through the EQ rollercoasters scattered throughout beginning to end, much like season 3.  The prevailing question was, “what do women want?”  And it was really funny to see Walter try to answer this question with Paige going back and forth! 😂  Plus, Ralph was testing his own plans to get Patty Logan's attention!  Let's talk about this and more! 

Walter & Ralph: Problem Solvers

I really like the juxtaposition of Ralph and Walter's issues with the women of their affection.  Walter sees an issue with Paige's accumulation of beauty items and develops a serum that addresses all her concerns without notifying her beforehand.  Ralph is taking the time to think about ways to get Patty's attention by appealing to that which she values most - punctuality.  Considering Walter is the one who has to learn more EQ, it seems quite odd that he feels led to advise Ralph.  Ironically, the advice Walter gives Ralph ends up working in his favor.  The instance set up another father-son dynamic between them that I anticipate to grow more throughout the season.  

Walter's struggle with Paige in this episode is very reflective of the IQ/EQ clash that the writers are heavily exploiting this season since Waige is officially a couple.  It is comedically executed. At first, he assumes.  Then he shows lack of emotional support by following Gemma without giving emphasis to Paige's vibe.  When Paige requests emotional support, Walter gives it at a stressful moment for the team, prompting Paige to make a request that contradicts what she says earlier.  No doubt Paige is not helpful when she doesn't provide enough context to support what is needed when, which makes it harder for Walter.  However, one of Walter's best qualities that I mention countless times in these reviews is his ability to accumulate information from a series of events and come through in the most clutch moments!  His success leads to a really sweet moment between Paige and him at the very end of the episode.  The whole experience also helps Paige cope with her son's romantic pursuits when Walter suggests that Ralph use this experience to become better at relationships than he is right now.  Thus, these combined scenarios highlights the family harmony that exists between Walter, Paige, and Ralph!  ALL THE FEELS!!!! 💓💓💓💙💛💙💛💙💓💓💓

Back to Basics 

One of the highlights of this show is Paige's role as the team's communicator - a job that extends in her romantic relationship with Walter.  We have seen this dynamic exploited in other relationships within this team (e.g., Happy and Toby, Cabe and Walter).  It's a core facet of the overall premise and we are seeing it again between Patty and Sly.  She specifically reminds Sly to speak to his governance and constituents as humans, not as students requiring lecture.  This is vital for him to effectively reinforce and execute his platform.  If one can not garner interest for a proposed solution to a problem, then it is increasingly hard to sell it no matter how many facts are provided.  I hope Sly manages to figure it out!  He always tries his best to come through when people need him most!  I love these little things that bring me back to the beginning!  

Hello Florence Tipton! 

Scorpion has a new "friend."  And I get so many season 1 Walter vibes from her.  Isn't it funny that Walter doesn't like her after their first encounter?!  Can we say that he has grown so much that he is averse to former versions of himself? 😂😂😂  (Side note: As a preview to a topic I will likely address in my review for episode 4.09 It’s Raining Men (of War), it is by design that Walter, Happy, and Florence are trapped together. You probably know where I am going with this if you are familiar with how I talk about Walter and Happy. 😉)  

She doesn't like noise.  Takes pride in her work.  Has an outcast story like the other geniuses on the team.  Plus, the showrunners tease that she will be a burr for Walter and Paige.  Don't know what way that will be yet, but I have a feeling it will fall along the lines of intellectual connection.  I am excited to learn more about her!  

Drabbles...

So it seems like Cabe and Toby are meeting for regular sessions! Aww yay! But Cabe is not progressing because he refuses to open up. 👀😒

Patty: Some advice… K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple, Sylvester. Speak to those guys in a way they can understand, like a human. Not like a lecturer. Speaking of lectures, I gotta get to school.  Sly, Cabe, and Happy (in unison): Because you’ve never had a tardy and you’re not gonna start now. P: Damn right. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

Why is Ralph hiding from Patty? Why is he scared of her? 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Oh lordt! Walter is trying to give Ralph advice on girls’ wants and needs! Send help! 😂😂😂😂😂

Walter, Walter, Walter… never come between a woman and her beauty products without making her aware of your suggestions first! Or better yet, just tell her she’s beautiful regardless! *facepalm*

It stinks and Happy figures Ray is back… 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Florence calls the ruckus in the garage by a certain name. Is it just me or did the writers manage to make a play on “covfefe” as a synonym for ruckus? If this is the case, I AM DEAD! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀💀

Walter: Team! Just got a call from Gleason. Toby: MI6 agent, Gleason? H: Cut his finger off to help us beat a dictator at the UN, Gleason? I love that guy. T: Easy on the love, darling. 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Space lasers are going to hit the earth if Scorpion doesn’t stop the satellite. Toby’s response… “Who’s up for Vegas?!” 👀 Gets yanked right back in place by Happy. 👌🏾 Me: Interesting… very interesting. 🤔

Paige has a negative vibe about Gemma and Walter doesn’t see it to make a statement in support as a response. Uh oh! 🎧We going down, down baby…🎧 👀  

Why are they taking Cabe’s vehicle? Paige or Walter’s car would be more appropriate considering they are 10x more reliable right now. Happy just started working on it! I understand it is an extension of Cabe’s arc.  Yet, it makes sense that only Walter and Paige are his passengers. Happy already stated that she wasn’t going to hop into that vehicle; Toby travels with his wife; and Sly would choose to go with Happy with whom he is already familiar than travel in a vehicle that’s essentially a “struggle bus!” Besides, Sly is like Quintis’ little brother! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Revolutionary war joke with a British spy?! Ooh BURN!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

The hacker dumped the fob in the toilet and flushed it down the city’s drainage system! EWW! In the words of Cabe… Oh crap! 💩💩💩💩

Gemma: Ugh, it’s not in there. It’s gone. S: You’re gonna want to have that arm removed.  😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀

H (to Toby): Quick! Give me your keychain. (keychain says “attaboy”) T: What are you doing with my “attaboy?” (Happy flushes the keychain down the toilet.) T (to Sly): See that’s why I can’t have nice things. H: Uh… After Collins escaped, I installed GPS onto your keychain in case he kidnapped you again. T (to urinating guy): Don’t you see how much this woman loves me? Urinating Guy: I just came in to urinate. Now I can’t. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💚💚💚💚💚 Btw, Jadyn’s hair is sooo ridiculously gorgeous in this shot!

H: We don’t know what could happen to those guys down there. We need to stay close to the fob in case we need to take their place. S: I am only gonna say this once. There is not a chance in H-E- double wizard wands that I am ever going down into the sewer. Me: Yeah… that only means Sly is going down into the sewer. 😂😂😂😂😂

Sly says schematics show there is debris in the pipe. VFX doesn’t convince me of that. Lol! #gaffe

Toby and Cabe are the epitome of “good cop, bad cop” during this interrogation! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Florence: Was I not direct with you people?! I thought I made myself very clear! (looks around) Sirens, flashing lights… is this some kind of a party? (perp flies out of trailer bound & gagged) Oh! It seems that it is some kind of party. Uh, I do not wish to attend this party. C: We can explain. F: No need. Good day. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀

Flo and Toby’s banter as she is trying to leave… 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀

Walter recognizes Paige’s feelings and validates them… doesn’t work! 😂😂😂😂😂😂💀 Oh pobrecito! Paige is losing her patience because she’s too scared about the rat! Lordt! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Umm… when did the back bed cover on Happy’s truck suddenly disappear?! Ran the red light… it was there. Shot of her driving fast down a residential service street… not there. When she and Sly reach the waste facility… it suddenly reappears! 👀 #gaffe Anything on the license plate, Ann @aspiestvmusings?

The stud finder joke returns! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Toby is an enthusiastic lover, huh?! Happy repeats the phrase! Hehehehe! #KinkyQuintis

W: Sly, I need your tablet! S (to Happy): Can you give him my tablet? H (to Walter): Don’t drop it! P: Uh no offense, Walter. I think I should probably catch it. W: (thinks) I concur. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀 Also, doesn’t anyone find it ironic that Happy tells Walter not to drop it?! Funny considering she dropped that wrench he passed to her last time. 😂😂😂 Yeah, that was a bit of shade from me. Tehehehe!

Man! Sly is getting a huge dose of exposure therapy this season!

Is it just me or does it seem like the emotional effort behind saving Sly was a bit slow?

I just love this Quintis tag team with Cabe! How awesome is it that Happy is the one to tell Cabe to stop being so closed off?! HOLY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!! GIVE ME MORE!!! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

The atomic watch Ralph makes for Patty looks a lot like an Apple watch… 👀😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Family moments a la Walter, Paige and Ralph… 💓💓💓💙💛💙💛💙💓💓💓

Ralph: My woman had a problem and I solved it. W: (looks to Paige) I don’t know where he got that. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Aww Flo!!! She’s just like them!

Walter’s still working on that love song! EEK!!!

P: Well? W: Well what? P: Look at me, Walter. I don’t have any of my beauty products which is why I need all that stuff now. W: (stares) I see absolutely no difference. P: Are you kidding me? W: No. All I see is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I truly see no difference. 😍💙😍💙😍💙😍💙😍💙😍💙😍 WAIGE FEELS!!!

Okay guys! Paige and Walter wear a lot of blacks and blues. Could there be a theme?! Hmm, I wonder… 🤔

[fireflyof-hope]

Loving the Dangerously Broken (March 2020)

DEAR MARK- I really hope the best for you, and in your life. I hope you dont end up in prison, at eastern, or dead. I hope you can get the help you need, to rewire the parts of you that are so jagged and broken, that as a survival coping mechanism to deal with such pain, your soul openly hugged insanity for any escape from your turmoil. It's not your fault, that all you know now is survival and pain. Not your fault, that you lack the ability to trust anyone, including people willing to get hurt for you, or with you if it meant lessening the weight of your pain even a tiny bit. We are products of our environments. You are living proof of how cruel this world is, and what can become of us who lose everything to live for. You are living proof that some people can live through immense pain, without having no purpose to reason to continue. You are living proof that sometimes survival wins, and even without anything to live for, you havent taken your own life. I hope one day your heart, mind, soul, spirit can find true peace. I hope humbleness and peace overcome your paranoia when you put your heart into being the best you that you can be, when you open your eyes enough to realize, that you can only save yourself, and have the power to create the outcome of your life. I dont want to see you, nor do I care for much for having contact, but the impact you had on my life, I'll never forget. You've managed to become the inner voice that lives inside me, that makes me question my own choices, and if they are logically safe for me. Your voice of reason and protection echos inside me now. I'll always love you, but love wasn't enough for us. Our damages were just far to great, neither of us being healed enough to not have anything but toxic intimate relationships. It greatly saddens me, that this whole time we've known each other, you always thought that I was trying to get you in trouble be it with cops, friends, family, exs or whoever. You always thought I was faking tears, or intentionally acting like a victim, as an attempt to make you look like a POS. Fact is, I couldnt fake tears if my life was dependeing on it. I wish now, that I never cried and allowed myself to be so broken and vulnerable around you, because you could only ever get it twisted and think badly of me when I let myself feel pain around you. You always thought more was going on than what you could see or hear, than what was even possible at times. I will forever be haunted by your suspicious comments towards me, like "What's really going on Joelle?". I felt so bad, helpless, and sometimes horrible that I didnt understand you being suspicious of me, even felt worse that I had nothing to say to you in respond, because there honestly was nothing shady or sneaky ever going on at my house, despite what you convienced yourself of and what you were set on determined to beileve. Any efforts to show you nothing was ever going on, failed because your ego was to prideful to let itself be faced with anything that gave you any room to have to question your sanity. You always over analyzed everything, and determined that you were being set up somehow, someway, by someone or something. You always thought various people were hiding from you, everywhere you went, now just my place. You somehow put it together in your head, that you'd be worth the effort, time, and the actual self neglect by not eating or using bathroom it would require from any person who had any willingness, or time to waste of thier own life, to even hide from you, while remain in the same building. I dont know a single person, who would be so absurd to take the time from their own life, their own comforts in order to stalk, or hide from you. Honestly, and logically, I believe that even your enemies wouldnt go out of thier way to waste time out of their life on such extreme levels to hide in your mom's basement, Lorenda's basement, or in a nasty attic where someone had killed themselve all for the sake of hiding from a crazy paranoid guy who constantly yelled at bickered at any noise around. Not even for shits a d giggles would a person want to hide from you. Sure you might have fucked up in life, done people dirty, or seriously hurt people, but even at that, no one would ever make personal vengeance against you what they live for. Despite what you think, I will confidently, lovingly and bluntly tell you as a matter of fact, that it is no ones life mission to destroy you or fuck with you. Wish you could see it, that you really arent that special of a person. Your paranoid thinking about people being sneaky and hiding from you was just so absurd, and even impossible when you actually try to use reason with how you thought these things. People all have thier own lifes to worry about, and I promises no one wants to take any time away from the real important things in their life all for the sake of keeping a paranoid tweaker on edge. It's not funny, not amusing to watch you distrust everyone and everything around you, even the people who have opened thier heart, and home to you. It's not a joke. You are not a joke when you get this way. It's actually very hurtful, pitiful, sad, and frustrating when you refuse to combat your paranoia with logical reason. Your so smart, I know you can combat your paranoia with your own logic and reason, if you would only try. For your own sake, I dont get why you havent even tried, other than maybe its your prideful ego, maybe the importance of being right on your first impuslive thought of what you assume is going on, just sadly means far to much to you, or maybe Kevin is right, and the even sadder possibly for why you dont try using logic or reason when you think someone is hiding from you, is that your paranoia isnt even real, that its all just a fat act you put on, because you want or like special attention from people having to question you, even if they begin to fear and hurt for your sanity. I just couldnt ever understand how nearly ever single time you let your paranoid thinking overpower your intelligence. Seriously how you be so paranoid that your intelligence vanishes in those moments, so unless either the paranoia was really a fake act, or you faked being intelligent, to hide and cover up how much of an idiot you are. I've tried hard to understand your paranoia, to understand all of you and what makes you tick as you do, I wanted so badly to help you. I have no answers, I have only theories that scare me about you faking paranoia and/or insanity, or you lying about your own intelligence. I've realized that there is just impossible for the genius that you have claimed to be, to not be able to rationalize and reason with your own paraniod behaviors and/or thoughts. Do you listen to much to your fearful and wild imagination when paranoia causes panic to settle in? Did you just imagine people sneaking around hiding from you and plotting against you? When and why do you let your imagination cross over into externally reality? Is there a trigger? Do your memories, or inner pain associated with the person who you think is hiding from you trigger painful flashbacks with the person that your mind chooses to beileve is hiding from you? At what moment within your frantic racing thoughts, do you stop being able to separate and reason what your truama and imagination have you thinking is happening, vs what is our shared external reality, aka what is really happening, where you can prove or disprove your paranoia if you allowed yourself. You always hold back, on fact checking yourself in reality. It's not hard to disprove your paranoid thoughts, if you would only try more. That's part of the issue, everytime you've been on a wild goose chase in my house, your paranoia was always 100% been wrong and disproven. I think sometimes that being right is most important to you, maybe you'd rather not even clarify for your own peace of mind, because you don't want to risk the proof or embarrassment that your mind is anything but perfect. Maybe your pride is just delicate, and you'd rather not know, than to know for sure, and admit to yourself that it's your overactive mind having an episode that's now took control of you of your reasoning skills, making you seem like a arrogant lunatic, jackass and a fool to yourself and anyone around. I'm still learning to not take it so harshly, and so personally hurtful that it can be so easy for you to beileve that the very same person who opened thier home to you, risked all they have by even associating with knowing you, who forgives you constantly, who writes to you if you go to jail, who isnt even bothered by the fact you might not be sane or even safe, and even considers you to be one with them, as if you are part of the house family, the person who got nothing but endless ride or die love for you and only seeks to nurture and sooth your paranoia in hopes it can vanish, the person that you feel safe enough to fall asleep with, the person who would stay the night in Newport in their car for you and fight the systems bullshit by your side, the same person who discards people who try to force them to cut you off, the same person who ignores the darker parts of you, the same person that wants to count on you so badly, the same person who bite off the head of any person to dare speak of you like your a monster, the same person who tries so hard with nothing but love and healing intentions to get through to your thick skull, the same person who your existence in thier life allowed your impact to be so great, the same person who broke and ditched the heart of their mexican high school sweetheart all for you, the same person who is a bit damaged and broken by life just like you, the same person who unsuccessfully tries very hard to give up on you but just can't, the same person who has a worn out heart because all the effort and energy they put into ressuraning and loving you even when it was only ever a losing battle, the same person who's effort and loyalty towards you remained unshakable, the same person who wants to hate themselve for how much they love you, the same person who recklessly gave a felon/criminal their priceless heart to only to end up feeling unappreciated and depleted entirelly, the same person who fears and hurts when your suffering, the person who wants the best for you in life whether it's with or without them in it, the same person who wants you to realize such things about yourself so you can decide how and who you want to be and gain control of your mind back, the very same person that you seemed to push away of the love of, and punish with painfully doubting everything they stood for in loving you, the same person who cherished the time they had with you in the moments that matter rather than paying any mind to your outrageous wild goose chases, the same person who would use their own body as a shield over your body when fear of being shot dead paralyzed you, the same person who continues to die and bleed out while determined to climb over your thick painful spikey wall, the same person that loves you so much that they found enough value in themselve to not have meaningless sex, the same person who has undying painful hope in you when you havent even given them a reason to continue hope, the same person who only ever wanted you to feel and accept such crazy love they have for you, the same person who gets to feel more pain than love come from you but choses to love you regardless, because they are selfsacrficing, and dont love you for their benefit, but chose to love you, for yours, the same person for forgave you at your very worse towards them, the same person who deserves so much better treatment and yet wants no one else, the same open who has nothing to hide, is a complete open book, and operates on being a healer, the same person who actually got ran over and nearly died because they couldnt help but have such adoration and fondness over you... this person, is all actually the very same person that youd rather believe is lying about no one being in the attic or whatever sneakness you think is happening, the same person that you'd rather beileve has something to hide, the same person you'd rather distrust and doubt, the same person you beileve wants you beat up or in prison, the same person you'd rather beileve cant own up to thier bullshit, that you'd rather beileve is sneaky around doing sexual acts, the same person's who house you do but dont feel safe at, the same person you enjoy calling names and lashing out at, the same person you think you read the emotion of, the same person who can be crying to themselves for thier own reasons who you heartlessly and suddenly accuse of laughing at you, the same person you think is fun to make angry, the same person that you trash the room of and show no value or respectful for, same person that you beileve is lying about noises, the same person that you think behind it all on some freak show of a malicious plot, it's the same person you think always has another agenda in mind, it's the same person who gets dragged through mud by ignoring themselve inwardly and by staying so focused on only just helping lessen your pain, paranoia, and doubts, the same person who's unconditionally loved you without expectations, same person who cant stop loving you who only hope that one day the love they have for you can reach deeper than any pain you've felt and all accusation, doubts can disappear into nothingness. The same person who's heart is broken, who's entire world shakes when facing the reality that the doubts never ended and that there was never any trust no matter what everything they tried to do right by you, the same person who feels utterly ripped into pieces by your disbelief and doubts, the same person that found love for themselve through all the pain they felt that came with loving a broken forbidden impossible person. It really breaks my heart, that this person I've described willing to endure so much, give so much, and end up so much more broken inside all for you, is in fact ME. I was just to eager to give love to someone, who had maybe never known real love, and that's on me. I should have ran when I had the chance, like anyone in thier right mind would do. I'm talking about details of your paranoia so much, because that's how our first fight started, and I beileve is the core issue in a lot of our fights. You'd rather beileve that after all I've done for you, and would do for you, that me the person who wants you to feel love greater than pain, wants you to feel the safest and be able to have internal peace and self love so that you can heal, and overcome your pain and paranoia. I want so desperately to make a difference and be the loving healer that people like you have searched for all thier life. I really do live to bring light, and hope to others, for you to even think that I could possibly have the ability to set you up, lie to you, ruin your life or do you wrong in anyway, straight crushes my soul. This whole time you've known me, you haven't really known my heart, your accusations, doubts, distrust, disbelief that I ever want to intentionally go against you, is proof of just how much of a stranger you've stayed to my heart. It hurts very badly. God only knows if you actually really do care for me, if you will ever actually read this I dont even know. You'd rather believe that I'm lying to you about people, my house, my attic over the idea of having to admit to yourself, that maybe you are losing it a bit. It's easier for you to beileve that the person who will probably intimately love you more deeply in your life than any other person is capable of is untruth, is intent on destroying what's even left on you. I dont know what to do anymore, sit with my pain and grieve it maybe, again it turns I'm that I'm just throwawayable chopped liver in the life of who Ive dearly love, with more fierce love to give that I didnt even know I had. I feel my efforts, energy, words, heart, loyalty, tears, my forgiveness, honesty, patience, pain, heartbrake is just all worthless to you. Why did you trick my heart, when you never trusted it and never even wanted it? All the pain and doubts that I've endure from you the entire time I've known you, it's all been for you, the dangerously broken one, who had managed to help me feel alive again without even meaning to. I feel like I've wasted my time and my love, on someone who couldnt even see me standing there trying to help you to carry your pain, despite any potential risk to myself. I tried to kill the monster within you with the purest love that I'm capable of, and yet that same monster it seems, would rather kill the light within me, than let down its guard and wholeheartedly believe that someone be capable of loving it and embracing it as if it were my own. Your monster is a reflection of your soul's deepest pain, and it doesnt scare me. I've never considered you to be a joke or a fool with your paranoia. I know that you arent a joke, and my heart doesnt operate of thinking it's funny to see such loved ones hurting. It pisses the fuck off you think I'm some sick person who is capable of laughing at your misery. Ive loved you with the purest love and intentions I've had to give, and it wasn't even good enough. In you thinking your pain, brings me laughter to any degrees has again shown more proof that you've actually stayed a stranger to my heart. I've never been called a liar or accused of being a sick fuck that enjoys when people hurt in ALL of my entire life until you. You really dont think healers, who selflessly try to better the world and give impossible broken people like you hope actually exist dont you? Your a stranger to my heart, because you dont even believe what drives my heart to continue to beat even through my own brokenness. Why did you asked if I was an angel all those times, when you wouldnt beileve me anyway? Im someone with such a powerful heart and the rare gift of such intense love to give that has the power to move mountains. And here I am moving mountains for someone who doesnt even see me, stretching myself out so thin, with just barely enough hope that it will all me something to you. I really hope that you didnt just act out your paranoia this entire time for your own amusement. I hope I fell for a real person, and not some gaint act. I'm the joke and the fool for possibly loving a felon and a person who might live thier life acting. I will straight say with nothing but love for you, that your paranoid thoughts have always been 110% WRONG. I know you couldnt help it, you just knew survival so well, and the things that you've already been through. Never have I tried to get you in trouble purposely. Never had even been a throught or objective of mine. I DONT live my life with the agenda of destroying broken souls. Broken soul and me find each other naturally, yes, but I just try to shine light on reasons to get back up again when their darkest is drowning them, when pain is to intense to see any good in life, I can only try to show them any reason, light, hope to not give up on themselves. I dont live my live trying to ruin people that I love. I just dont, that is my word, mind, heart, soul and my bond. That is what makes me, me. The whole reason I ever took my chances with you as a roommate even though, I knew you were a wrecking ball, because i saw behind those sad eyes, behind the hustling, behind the needles, behind the drug use, behind the distrust and paranoia of the world, were such loud soul wrecking- ear piercing cries for help, cries for love, even though you already knew that you didnt know how to accept what you really longed for most, unconditional love. Someone who would get you, understand all of you, and still love you through all the pain, anger, bad, grief, passion, love, darkness, selfishness, selflessness, stubbornness, abusiveness towards yourself & others. I live trying to build broken people up by bringing out their rawness and showing them, even at their worse, they deserve to feel loved to. I live my life trying to bring people light and hope, because I'm lost and broken myself and in helping people, i find reason not to kill myself. I loved to feel needed, love to nurture, love to pant seeds of hope in the shattered hopeless souls and hearts. I love to feel like I'm making a real difference for anyone in life, even if I only made a difference for but a moment in another's life. I dont know if i actually make a difference to you, and that's okay. In my heart I've succeeded in how I had shown you, that even your darkest, your most feared demons deserve to be loved, unconditionally. If only you had felt loved all your life, those demons wouldnt have such power within you, if only the world didnt rob you of being a father, how much different of a person you would be. Love is foolish, and I love all of you, just as you are. I've always been me, Mark. The girl who tries to bring people back to life, because I painfully understand all to well what that inner void feels like of having lost all that I was living for. No lies. No bullshit. No acting. I PROMISE you that no one has ever hid from you in my attic, accept for me myself when I needed space. You always wanted me to and demanded of me to "own up to my bullshit" in your hurtful accusatory ways, well fine. Here we go. I'll proudly own up to it, and who I've become now. I own up to how I allowed myself to fall in love with the most too far gone, most broken, most dangerous, most worthwhile, most doubtful, most hurtful, most strongest at surviving, most saddest, most childlike, and yet the most wise wild and goofy person, that I've ever known in my life, and although there is continually great heavy pain, I will never regret having known you, and you cant make me. I will love you, with or without contact. My spirit stays with you. You can run, you can hide, but my love for you is carried inside. The person who had been my greatest life mentor and teacher in my life, as been unregrettably, non the less, you Mark Conner. Maybe it wasn't me who was suppose to make a difference in your life, maybe it was you who purpose was to completely shake and rock my entire heart and world.... and my goodness, you fucking did! I now have new strength, self love, and survival instincts within myself, that I didnt know even existed. I'd rather have an empty bed, and no cuddles than to be with less that I deserve, than to tolerant bullshit treatment from myself, or anyone else. I feel okay being alone now. Actually okay in my own skin now. Holy shit the chick who tried to pay $200 to kevin just for cuddles, the chick who brought $100 stuffed animal to cuddle, the chick who had reckless sex and let people use her with just mere hope that someone could really love me, need me, just a little bit. Im the very co dependent chick, who never couldnt picture herself single, never picture myself alive without no man at my side, and with no kids at my side to pour my precious love into. Im the burdensome chick who was always desperate for closeness, would settled for anyone who would give it. Your own darkness and pain brought to light for me, my own inner power, and as it turns out, I'm dont being prey that men/predators thirst for and seek out to just use and discard. Done playing the mental games of others who I was just trying to show them the way out of consuming darkenss. I know now, my thoughts and my reactions to my thoughts and feelings, are what allow me to be the creator of the outcomes in my life. Even if you really truly are a hopeless tweaker, a monster, or some unsolved mysterious wonder Mark, I refuse to accept that there is no hope for you, even if you've made a mess out of my heart by turning me to chopped liver by trusting paranoia over love. I refuse to beileve you cant do better for yourself. I refuse to think your future will be in prison or eastern. I gave up on us as a couple, at least for now, but I havent, and will not give up on you as a person. Your heart feeling sincerely loved, is worth all the pain I've endured, that I'd go through repeatly for you if I had to. All I can do is still have hope for you, for YOUR sake, because you deserve to not live in such torment, to never be able to feel safe, to never feel trust, to always think that something, or someone, somewhere is plotting against you no matter where your at or who your around. I've fallen for and have embraced and chosen to love the toxic impossible parts of you, even if I do discarded, or dont feel loved in return. I dont love you without expectations for my benefit, I love you for your benefit. You would not be you, without your imperfections, and I love every bit of you so much, that I cant be around to watch you destroy/hurt yourself, and/or your loved ones unintentionally. I know when you hurt others and are aware of it, the painful guilt you have to live with inside, for surviving the ways the you knew how, is your greatest enemy. You are you own enemy. You hold yourself to the highest standards. You can't forgive yourself either, that grudge you hold against yourself is so power, that you cant see it when others have already forgiven you and have attempted to move forward with you in the present moment. Your own survival game is real. Your intense af, and your brokeness, your intense emotions, your pain, your will to survive, is how I was able to feel alive again, instead of just floating around like some darkness engulfed broken depressed empty lifeless thing that only desired for death. That isnt me anymore, thanks to knowing you, and mostly thanks to me for seeing myself through my own loving eyes and ways. One day I hope Mark that your PTSD gets treated, and that you can learn how to just live and cruise through life enjoy all life has to offer instead of fear it. One day I hope you can feel safe in your own skin, with the people who love you. Home is where the heart is, but your heart is in so much pain, that your in denial of even having a safe loving home. Your insecurity and vindictiveness got you to cut my vibrator cord at some point, and has your goodbye to me, you poured gatorade on my jeep seat like a child having a tantrum as if I had done something to even deserve that episode from you in my jeep, joke is on me for loving the impossible. I went from being all eager to feel valued and worthy by a good steady stable man, to developing actual self value. Im awake now, and there is no going back. No one can take that away self value from me, and it cant abandon me. Your solo ways, have taught me much needed tools to get through life when it storms. I dont care about our feelings towards each other, I just care that you one day can see and feel your own inner power to. I'd often wonder if there was a God, how dare you have been made to suffer all your life, but your right when you told Trina when we were both in Springdale, that "God wouldnt ever give us more than we could handle." Your darkness, your incredible survival rate, the deep footprints (or should I say BMX tire tracks) that you leave behind you, that you left on my heart, are very loud, and impossible to be overlooked by someone with a very rare and real heart like mine. The broken who cant escape darkness because they chose to run back into the fire (pits of hell) trying to save people from bone chilling pain, because we understood it, and have endured it ourself with no real escape. Empaths, healers, people who can see the good in you, know what I'm talking about. You showed survival be possible with nothing to live for, and you lead the way, for probably not just me, but others who have lost their way and own sense of hope or belonging. If you couldnt see no way, you created a way, and I'll cherish witnessing how you could start from nothing, and how you just kept going, no matter the curveballs. You didnt surrender your life to this hell, even when you've felt dead and hopeless inside, even when the flames gave you third degree burns. Your living prove at how possible life is, even when you have nothing, but yourself. "Coming in hot!!" You'd say. Damn right you are hot, you came into my life on fire from both hell and holy flames. You can light a fire within anyone, who can see into and feel your very wounded, yet shattered warrior soul, or at least, you did for me. I hope that counts as something towards you finding self love. I want you to see your value, through my eyes, my heart, my soul. I want you to feel it in the core of your being and never doubt that you are so very loved, never doubt that you make a difference in someone's life, to love yourself enough to be able to stop thinking that your just a failure, to stop thinking that your loved ones think or fear that your just some psycho monster. You ignited my healing firefly flames again, which were well burnt out after my divorce, Trench suicide, Ordai's betrayal, and my children having to live in a different place than me. I'm a firefly Mark, I was given that nickname for a very real reason, when times are dark, I still have light flickering, even if the darkest of places, it's my gift to still have light and life within me to share when others have died inside. I'm glad we touched each others lifes. I had no beacon of hope, until you, I was always the person, everyone themselves turned to for help... it was finally my turn to get the help, get the inner healing, that I didnt realize I ever needed, through knowing and having such love developed for you inspite the pain. You unintentionally lead the way, and even paved it for me. Us going through our own individual inner hells, and how you left me alone at the many times when you knew I could handle it. You didnt piggyback me through hardships, instead coldly, and harshly, you demanded I got up and fought my will to die away, you didnt jump in and saved me from my self hating bullshit, you did more more for me. By watching you torment yourself mentally, you brutally and painfully taught me the strength it takes and how to have power over my own darkness that tries to control my life. You showed me, and unknownly taught me how to save myself. For that, I will always be thankful. Mentally a lot of what we both went through together was just flat abusive, but through the sick mental illnesses we both suffered, and the shit that we dragged each other through, I've trained myself very well in adapting whatever life throws at me. Stress doesnt break me anymore. Rarely does anything scare me anymore, I'm scared of loved ones dying, scared of unintentionally hurting people I love, but that is about it for my fears. I want you to face it, like a man should, that whether you believe yourself to be a prison/drug/felony flats-made monster, You just might of did something good, and wonderful, and life/heart/soul changing for someone you love in your life. I want you to own it that you arent all bad, that through your existence, I picked up on self love, self value, and survival tactics. I also didnt know had it in me to love such scary, damaged, spung out of their mind, hurtful yet loving in balanced ways, unpredictable, unstable, controlling, broken, addicted, pos, dangerous and yet safe, insane, older gentlemen with southern/Christian ethics, and just all around love a person who could actually survive so much pain. I'm your biggest fan and cheerleader. Ordai a long time ago when he first left Feb 2019, Nick told him that my buddy would go after him with a gun. I'm sure or at least hope that Ordai knows kevin now, and can see how ridiculous it was back than to be in fear of Kevin coming after him with a gun, but Nick had created those fears in Ordai, in hopes ordai wouldnt come around me ever again. But as it turns out no was ever gun needed, I was given something far more special in meeting and falling in love with you. Thank the universe, the trees, Kevin, drugs, ex roommates, Ordai for first leaving me, or even thank God for me knowing you, because I now wield a secret invisible gun at my side, thats well cared for, well polished, and locked away when it's not needed. This gun that I call self love and survival, is the only weapon I need, and it was you that taught me how to aim with it. I'm unbreakable now. Thank you Mark, if you get nothing out of this message, than please just try to be good to yourself, gentle on yourself, because you do create inner miracles within at least with me. You will never be a lost cause, no matter how much you try, it's to late for you to not have worth to me. Your impact on my life, is part of who I am now. I didnt even figure that in loving a man so much who is so rough and jagged around the edges, a felon, a broken surving badass who lost so much in life, that I'd end up becoming a badass myself. May warmth, and love, not doubt or paranoia follow you, and be with you everywhere. THE AFTERMATH & PROCESSING OF MY THOUGHTS Now I'm realize, my upbringing.... it wasn't my fault, I didnt ask for it, I didnt do anything wrong to deserve it, that my parents neglectfulness wasn't because they didnt love me and my brother. But it was only because they both had a very deep lack of love for themselves, and learned to cope through making pain with emotion numbing substancesain order to survive. I cant even be mad at my parents as an adult for kt. They didnt mean it. Nor could they even ever comprehend the long-term outcome it would have on thier full grown children unable to stop questioning love, and at a painful war with having to decide to chose whether or not to hate themselve, or to love themselve. I realized we each have our own power within us, and I will be a model of self love now, no more self destructive bullshit. My children will know love. They will feel so overall loved and overwhelmed with love, that they wont have to experience questioning the love either of their parents have for them. My children deserve to have a mother who loves herself and can thrive and be happy, with or without a partner. I'm worth the entire world to my kids whether I'm with them or not, and that wont go unnoticed by me again. Loving myself shouldnt be to difficult, now that I chose to open my eyes, and see my priceless value. I'm actually not the garbage that I treated myself to be. I let the actions, or lack of actions of others hurt me a good bit, but I know that I'm not chopped liver. I have so much to give to myself, and those who have endlessly loved me when I couldnt love myself. I have so much to live for. My existance can and might one day be just one living proof of an example for other shattered by life, broken and self hating souls. Through how I love and live, maybe people can start to uncover their own inner voice, worth, and love. Its amazing at how much power and control we have in our lifes, to share with all we cross paths with, if we chose to take back our life and become our own pilots. Its magically to become the love that I've needed my entire life, instead of putting it in the hands of others, instead of burying the ability to love myself because I blamed myself for my life, instead of substance abuse, instead of lashing out and hurting others we love out of never knowing how to accept being loved. I think I might have figured out a major life hack, and the short cut to inner healing through our own childhood and past relationships.This shortcut to happiness might be real? What we think, we create and become, we are the masters of ourselves. The answers to how to be alone, and not dependent on another's value and love for us, can only be found within our own self. Not another person, not substances, not money, not travel, not sex, not working, and not escaping from reality with friends, tv, videos games or school are part of it. Gotta be okay with facing yourself, head on without distractions. I've tried so hard, and for such a long time to hope for a sincere strong willed, adventurous, steady, and stable, man, who just incapable of abandonment, abuse, or giving up without any effort. I wanted my fairytale to be real, wanted a man to come along and magically love me unconditionally in the ways my broken self had always freely given, but had gone without. Ive learned that no perfect match for me exists. The joke was on me, but the fact is, I acccidentally fell in love with the least likely type of person that I would ever let in or trust in my life and heart. I blindy fell for someone and I knew it was the most toxic relationship that I would ever experience, yet my idiotic heart didnt care. I learned that happy ever after is a overrated unreal concept. Through this on and off crazy yoyo relationship I had over the period of a year with Mark, I started to give up entirelly on the idea of my heart being unconditionally loved and accepted without expections. I seemed to feel accepted just for being me with all my intenseness, my wildness, my BPD, my selfless ride or die love, and my total inner indecisiveness about whether I'm monogamous, polyamorous, open to kinks, or if I had just enjoyed bring healing energy to others through intimacy. All I knew was that just once, I didnt want to feel like loving all of me would be such an inconvenience for someone, just once I wanted to experience feeling that I was more than enough, instead of less than what was hoped for. I dont know if the cupid in my life just is a wingnuts or what happened, because I fell in love with the complete opposite of what I'd ever search for within a potential partner. I fell for the most broken, dangerous, controlling, closed minded, arrogant, possessive, needy, lost, abusive and damaged soul that I had ever come to know. The hardest part about loving this person, was how full of expections he was for me, and how he didnt agree with how the healer within me freely gave endless love to broken souls like ourselves. He couldnt love the core healer that I truly was inside, that even make me, me. The only reason I even could befriend this guy in the beginning, was because the way my healing empathic heart could hear and even feel the pain his heart would sing. It seemed he was only out to try change and shape my heart. It seemed that his greed wanted to kill the healer inside of me, instead of love me for the healer that I was.... This experience taught me so much. I wasn't willing to bend to his demands and expections, I wanted to be free to be true to myself. Many times I'd be feeling so down on myself about his treatment towards me, I'd isolate myself to my room out of fear of upsetting him if I was to try to hang out with my roommates. I allowed him to put distance between me and others, and even allowed his presents in my life and home chase people away from me. At times I didnt even feel like my life was my own, I just did what was I told, just did what I knew was allowed, just barely even allowed myself to move, use my phone at all, or cook or use the bathroom, or even breath in the wrong way with him around me, because that was the only way to stop the painful demeaning nonstop doubts and accusations. I automatically started obeying all his passive aggressive signals, in order to keep any sense of peace in my life. I felt trapt as my life became constantly just tipy toeying on eggshells, receiving lots of concerned looks from friends and very bad inner anxiety in the mist of trying to keep the most impossible, dangerously broken man happy at the cost of allowing myself to get robbed of everything I was.... I stopped feeling like this man loved or cared for me at all, because while I was being a stranger to myself, he was a stranger to my heart. My feelings and emotions when mentioned went entirely ignored, or back fired on me and gave him reasons to guilt me into feeling worthless by just trying to be me. Only he mattered, his greed, no one and nothing else. My voice, values, beliefs werent ever even heard in his mind. He just demanded that he be the Alfa while telling me hurtful things to crush my spirit. I couldnt use my phone, playing video games, do art, or listen to my own music without his attitude changing on me, he was okay with my entire life stopping, if it meant that my focus was on him and nowhere else be it person, animal, nature, errand, or hobby. I wanted this man to feel loved so badly, wanted him to trust me, to stop doubting me, so I willingly self sacrificed, overlooking myself, my own free will, because I had desperately hoped it would all be for something, hoped with time that he would loosen up, that he would open his eyes and realize just how much he was suffocating the life out of me. He didnt, it didnt get better, when I expressed how at times everyone needs breaks from each other, his grip on me would get even tighter. At times it got to the point in our fights to where I'd just have to take off, away from him, to where I'd find myself hiding from him in my own house silently letting tears fall, because only in that very moment of hiding, could I even seriously fully take deep breaths again. It's threw going through this time with him, that I gained a backbone with how I would let him treat me. The break I got from him felt so good, that I learned to pamper myself in the little moments I had to myself. I began to learn self love through this scary possessive abusivness. I learned that I could never do right by him, and that he would always need someone to control of entire day of in his life. After learning that from someone who also loves him and been in my shoes, naturally my heart and adoration started to repell and withdraw from him. It was about time that i embraced some of the love that I freely gave away and would throw into the darkness hoping it would touch the life of someone who'd value and cherish it. It's about time that I allowed my own damaged heart, to grieve, heal, and feel the absolute love that I carried within myself. It was a lucky miracle that became and gave to myself what I couldnt find in a man. I literally embodied and became love, as a result of feeling of the lack of safe comforting love, and no one can take it from me. That is such power. My life is my life. I'm responsible for myself, not the entire world. I must be good to myself first, so others can witness and feel the best of my healing heart and soul, so it wont be hard for others to just naturally feel they are valued and loved by me, instead of having to only witness and share in just feeling the pain I hadn't accepted within myself. I am much more than just my darkness. I do more than just drown, in fact I was giving up feeling alive, before my own survival called bullshit and my own hidden will to live forced me to learn to stand up for myself and on my own. I survived it all, but the fact that I had allowed myself to go through such a thing, reflected that I was my own worst enemy. Sure that I took a dangerous risky route, to find self love. That it did in fact take me falling in love with, and seeing the only the best within a very deeply disturbed, broken, truamatized, and paranoid person who needs the type of help that goes beyond my control and power, to see that the only way to survive through the dark hardships of life, and the pain that comes with unconditionally loving impossible people, was to learn to love myself, find truth and beauty in my own pain and grow from it instead of become a monster myself. I'd learn to be, what I needed and couldnt find. I wish for all the broke souls I love in my life, for their eyes, hearts, minds to be open to their own inner power. This abusive man who I very dearly do love, torments himself greater than it even be possible for another human to do to him. It was honestly through being part of watching him destructively cope with his sadness, paranoid thinking, helplessness, unforgiveness and lack of trust towards himself, and the inner misery he inflicts on himself, that I was even able to recognize myself, and how much I was alike to him within our inner pain. I felt trapt in ways of never knowing how to stop repeatly breaking myself through using the pain I've lived to justify all ill treatment towards myself from myself and all my interactions with people. He cant save himself, but he isnt a failure. Somehow he taught me how to save myself by isolating and silencing me, by being my most toxic relationship, and by watching him drown himself and survive the entire time. It was through the worse mental pain I felt and seen in life, that wasn't even my own that I was lucky to been gifted such an ability to intensely directly empath the pain from Mark's inner turmoil. It was within hurting so deeply and helplessly for him while he allowed himself to burn alive and internally suffer deeper as he lashed out and hurt people who he said he loved, that Mark had accidentally showed me the way out of our own inner hell. I didnt want him to hurt alone, didnt want him to roll over and surrender his life, so i let the flames that continued to burn and consume his fragmented self, also lick me. I tolerated absurd bullshit and treatment for long, because that is the nature of my love, to ways forgive, to ways see the best, to kill everything I know with love. I willing chose to love the darkness and demons that had shown him how to survive. I decided that it was wrong of me to have expectations on how he should love me, especially when he couldnt even love himself, and was quickly becoming more and more of a stranger to my heart. I only started diving into self love, because I had helplessly hoped for so long that Mark would find it for himself, so that he could be able to heal and see the endless love and light that lays right beyond the all consuming pain that keeps his soul dead. I love myself now, I had to learn it quickly for my own survival and sanity after I would embrace his flames, and let them surround me with flame kisses and burn me alive, along with him. Mark is like that of a burn victim. The on going effects of his trauma have been everlasting. I got out and away from my hell engulfing me, I can only hope that he isnt too far gone himself, and that he would stop squeezing his eyes so tightly shut from the pain he experiences. If he just opens his eyes wide enough to see, there is a way out, that pain doesnt have to consume him, that only he can put his own fire out, and find inner love and forgiveness for himself, how much he could change his entire life around. He just needs to see and come back to reality just enough to register that the waterhose to put the fire's flames out he is already gripping in his hand. He can stop the burning so easy, so quickly and regain his life back, find his self love, just like I'm doing, he just has to chose the outcome he wants in life.

[kaedekisaragi]

Kaede Kisaragi Watches The Flash S4E01 - The Flash Reborn

SAY HELLO TO MY FLASHY FRIEND!

"My name is Iris West... And I was supposed to marry the fastest man alive, but six months ago he left."

Welp... Let's open with a heart breaking scene, why not?

"I promised him I'd run, so that's what I've been doing these last six months, running as fast as I can."

Iris, in a new haircut that looks lovely, oversees stuff at the lab, while Vibe, Kid Flash and Joe-on-the-car hunt down Peekaboo. Also, Kid Flash, seriously, people don't say "duck" to refer to an avian unless they add "roast" on it, nowadays. The hunt continues, Kid Flash showing off all he can do as he pursues our meta teleporter. Iris sagely figures out that peekaboo is teleporting to every third rooftop, and the team does an awesome takedown of our little fugitive, with the finishing blow by Joe and the CCPD... Also, Kid Flash, sitting down, hugging his knees and tapping his feet together in amusement. Dunno, just adorable.

Ooh, new logo.

So, anyway, 1 out of 3 metas escape nowadays, the team not having the old catch rate. And Joe West makes his feelings clear to Wally: "Nobody feeling 'team kid flash'". I agree. Team Joe West is more like it, am I right? As it turns out, Iris is no longer a fun person, becoming religiously devoted to protecting the city and even programming training sims for Wally. Cisco says it as it is: we're one man down.

At the West home, cecile is discussing her box-moving to the west house, and steps on a landmine when she asks Joe to get rid of his record collection.

"They'll be buried with me when I die." "Maybe we can bury them now and you join them at a later date!"

Cecile's savage, y'all.

As it turns out, CCPD thinks Barry's on a sabbatical. With Julian's departure (awww :( no more malfoy jokes), they need a new forensic. Iris is positive Barry is not returning and tells as much to Joe, who is not happy with Iris's not coping with her feelings about losing Barry. I'm sensing a pattern here, I mean, I just had to watch Kara Danvers try to be Oliver Queen and Batman all at the same time, and it was painful. Don't make Iris do this too, okay show?

Iris returns to her apartment. We find she's... pretty much in grieve mode 24/7. She sleeps in the couch and has her photo of barry facing down.

AND THEN A BIG BOOMING SOUND AND SOMETHING RUSHES BY THE WINDOW!

THAT TURNS OUT TO BE A FLYING SAMURAI...

...This show takes me to weird turns of phrases sometimes.

Then Kid Flash talks japanese to the guy (because we need to make Cisco have funny reactions) and the samurai makes clear: he wants the Flash, not second-best. Ouch. Vibe mocks him for wanting to fight them with a sword. So he does a massive shockwave by plunging the sword down. Cisco, don't mock the villains, that's how they get the jump on you. Also, please tell me I'm not seeing them reference superfriends with a flying samurai.

So, it's been 6 months, and people wonder where The Flash is. And Cisco says they got no choice, they gotta bring Barry back, but the whole team is against it, since the speed force would go kablooie on the city once more if they do that. Cisco however has an idea he's been working on with pretty much the entire CW-verse collection of geniuses, which might stabilize the prison and free Barry. Iris is fully against it, saying she's positive Barry is dead and refusing to even allow herself a single glimmer of hope.

So Cisco goes drown his sorrows... at the bad guy bar... where CAITLIN is bartending. Didn't take the show long huh? She's still clearly refusing to return home though, even though she can apparently control herself now. She knows Barry is trapped in the speedforce. And as Cisco continues to try and talk to her, a guy with an emo hair and a white eye comes into the fray. Someone who Caitlin seems nervous to be around. She does agree to help her friend... Wow, that was a quick resolution.

Iris comes to the lab, but no one is there. She pinpoints the van's location, where the whole team is united to do the thing and bring Barry back (nervous about Caitlin aside). Joe does hug Caitlin and shows he is willing to forgive her. Cisco's plan? The speedforce bazooka. Which will fire a sphere attuned to Barry's genetic code and trick the speedforce into releasing him. The team fires up the energy... the bazooka fires... and there's a system failure.

Uh... what? Umm... Okay... Guess that's that. Iris arrives just in time to give a disapproving look.

...until a speed force gate opens in the middle of a street... and a golden lightning flies out of it... until it slams against a car... Showing a glowing and very naked Barry. With a beard. Who passes out.

Iris chews out the team for trying to save Barry saying they could've killed the city. Chews out Caitlin for running off. Cisco finally flips at her and says: "It's like you don't even want him back". But they get interrupted when cecile calls... The CCPD received a delivery from outside the city: Barry. Who is doing a wall-of-crazy on the CCPD, writing all sort of symbols on the wall. And who is talking... gibberish. Speaking disconnected phrases. So... it appears he may have gone insane. Speaking phrases from all previous seasons mixed up out of sequence. They put him to sleep and take him to the lab, where Caitlin says he's actually scarily healthy. She has two theories: either he's suffering from schizophasia, assigning wrong definitions to words. Cisco thinks he can translate his weird symbols into a message with the proper algorhythm. The other theory? Barry might've been stuck in there for over 10 millenia and gone demented.

Cisco's idea to wake Barry up with Lady Gaga? Best idea ever or best idea ever? XD But Barry continues to speak nonsense. Iris asks to be left alone with Barry. She breaks down on her own denial to accept his being gone, and now that he's here... He briefly glances over her, interestingly enough. Her urging him to become her Barry again causes him to vibrate and rush off, creating a whirlwind inside the labs, sending everyone flying. Caitlin ends up using Captain Cold's gun to freeze Barry. Just in time for Samurai to return. Wally has a plan though. Dressing up as Flash and using his vibrating to hide his face and skin color? Really? He faces off the Samurai, but the Samurai sees through the ruse, giving Wally another beating and putting him out for the rest of this episode with a pierced fibula.

Cisco still is trying to figure out whether barry is trying to give them the answer to life the universe and everything, but Caitlin doubts Barry wants to tell them 42 (I giggled, seriously). I missed Cisco and Caitlin being a duo. Caitlin says it's all greek to her, which makes Cisco both have an idea and quote two comic companies at the same time: "Great Caesar's Ghost" and "Excelsior". The symbols must be like greek writing, not like your regular alphabet. And the code says...

"This house is bitchin'?"

...

*facepalm*

Cisco is depressed he may have wasted his time building the new flash suit. Caitlin tries to comfort him. He says he didn't do it because he wanted to save the city... He just wants his bro back :(

Joe gently shaving Barry's face inside the pipeline... So sweet and sad. Joe and Iris both sit down, unsure how to proceed. Joe admits he's gone back to going to church on Cecile's suggestion, to help him find his way. One thing he heard in there was perfect for him: "Strength means nothing without faith". Cecile told him to have faith, for his strength alone won't do it. And he believed. Iris just needs to find her little faith. Samurai's 24 hours are up, so Joe leaves Iris alone with Barry.

SO IRIS GOES AND OFFERS HERSELF AS HOSTAGE TO THE SAMURAI, BECAUSE SHE BELIEVES FLASH WILL COME FOR HER. THAT'S BOTH STUPID AND AWESOME. IT'S AWESUPID.

Joe desperately urges Barry to save Iris. It doesn't work, Barry still raving, but when he hears Iris is gonna die, Joe is blasted aside when Barry speeds through the pipeline containment... How much strong is Barry now, if he can do that? The new suit is also gone, mind you. And he's running faster than anyone has ever run. Samurai flies through the wind farm, with Flash chasing him closely. As he runs, we can see this new suit is similar to the one from the future, with gold lightning details and a golden belt. Flash runs up a falling wind tower, jumps from it, lands on samurai, grabs iris, disarms his wings, and leaps off... all in one movement. And the Samurai? A robot.

Iris "Barry, you came back to me." Barry "...Always."

THE FLASH IS BACK! FOR REALS!

Caitlin marvels at Barry's super health, and assumes he must've soaked up speed energy, which explains why he's faster now than ever. And the team has a consensus: we are NOT Team Kid Flash, Wally! But we still got the mystery of the Samuroid (thank you based Cisco!). Barry can't explain how he knew Iris was in trouble, nor he remembers his gibberish moment. But he is very happy to be back. Caitlin says she's back too, to Cisco's glee.

Caitlin goes back to the bar, telling the emo guy from earlier to 'tell Amunet she's out'. When he tries to stop her... She goes full Killer Frost on him, giving him a real brainfreeze, and walks off. But by the time she's out, Caitlin fights back to control of her body... She has no control over it.

At their apartment, Iris says how hard it's been for her. Barry says this maybe was a blessing, saying that he feels like everything that was wrong on his life doesn't hurt him anymore... All gone. All he sees is their future together now. They kiss. Police Sirens. Flash goes off to do his thing.

Stinger. Samuroid assembled by a woman scientist. Her boss and her apparently fully intended to bring Flash back. Her boss, a borg-looking guy in a chair, tells he's still... thinking... their next step.

And we're back folks! And what awaits us for this season? We got a good look at our new villain, The Thinker, and his intentions remain a mystery, but if past seasons proved, Barry will have a big challenge. Thing is, he might not have much problem dealing with these challenges with his new badass speed levels and his carefree new mind. But is he really all that carefree as he says? Is this really the arrival of the truly happy and confident Flash we're all hoping to see?

And what about Caitlin, how many times has she lost control of herself like that? What if she loses it altogether?

And when will we get our new Wells? ^^

All this and much more, this season!

[amzbailey]

time for a personal post! because it’s been a while and things are happening and honestly, why not?

let’s see... where to begin...

I’m still jobless, so that’s a thing. I thought I had a job in the bag recently because my recruiter set up a phone interview, then we had an in-person interview last week, and my recruiter said she spoke to the manager and got “lots of positive feedback” and “should know something early next week”. well, it’s “early next week” now. the interview was a week ago. I really thought I would know at this point. oh well. they probably found someone else and haven’t gotten around to telling my recruiter yet. she has tons of other clients so I probably haven’t even crossed her mind yet.

and honestly, this job isn’t really something I want. it’s just... a job. I’ve finally reached that point where I really just need something to do. and we need money. about a month ago. our AC unit went out so we had to get a whole new system installed, so that cost us quite a pretty penny. then we went on vacation and made a few other large purchases... so I’m starting to feel the need to contribute so we can continue paying bills and living the way we’ve been living. at any rate, I still have no idea what I actually want to do, and I can’t just refuse to work while trying to figure out where my career is going. so... I’ll just take whatever comes along at this point.

on a separate note... my grandma is dying. she was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia a few months ago and has been a pretty rapid decline. she was admitted to a hospice yesterday. I’m going to visit her tomorrow. if I’m being honest, she’s been sick for a really really long time... I think we’ve been saying “this Christmas may be her last” for about 6 years now, and every year she’s still hanging on. but with this pretty intense diagnosis, she’s been deteriorating before our eyes. last week when I visited her, I was pretty surprised to learn that she no longer can walk to the bathroom by herself. she can’t even get from the couch to the table without someone helping her up. my dad and his family can’t afford assisted living so my dad’s been paying nurses to come once or twice a week to bathe her, and then paying friends and family members to just come be with her and help her move around the rest of the time. but apparently this week a professional nurse came to bathe her and couldn’t get her out of bed. I don’t know what all that entailed, but it ended with the nurse recommending that she be admitted to a hospice. which really means that she doesn’t have long left.

to be honest.... I’m not sure how I feel about it. I mean, of course I’m horribly sad that my only living grandparent is about to die... but I’ve watched her deteriorate these past few months and that’s horribly sad to witness. at this point, I honestly am just ready to see her pain and suffering end. what’s even worse, though, is watching my dad deal with it. basically, his siblings are all shitty, selfish people, and even though he’s the youngest of 4, he’s the only one who has been taking care of his dying mother. he’s been working his ass off week after week trying to make sure she’s being taken care of on a daily basis, while his siblings not only contribute no time or money to my grandmother’s well being, but also have the audacity to criticize how my dad does EVERYTHING. it’s infuriating and disgusting. I know for a fact that after all of this is over and my grandmother is gone, we won’t see that side of the family ever again. my dad’s siblings are worthless shitty people who refuse to even VISIT their mother, let alone contribute financially to her care. it’s disgusting.

but watching my dad go through this has been devastating, and I’m not even living with them. he’s been working tirelessly to care for her, provide for her, and make sure that her last days are as pleasant as possible. my family has never been wealthy, and this is especially true right now while paying for most of her medical expenses (almost entirely because of his worthless siblings--did I mention that one of his brothers is a FUCKING DOCTOR?). but he’s had to balance all of this with a stressful job, too. I can’t really grasp the amount of stress he’s under right now. but to make matters even worse, my grandma has a very advanced stage of dementia. my sweet, loving grandmother is often far away when he’s around. she often criticizes him, snaps at him, constantly complains about the pain she’s in and how she feels like she’s going crazy. and my dad knows that isn’t really her, but I still imagine that it has to hurt when the person you’re breaking your back for is constantly criticizing you. I honestly can’t imagine. it’s just... it’s devastating. so honestly... I think we’ll all be glad when it’s over.

while all this is happening, though, I can’t escape the very real existential thoughts that come with a family member dying. it’s the same kinds of thoughts everyone has: why didn’t I spend more time with her? did I appreciate her enough? why is life so fragile? what happens when we die--really? how do we know? why is time so short? what am I doing with my life? am I wasting it? am I spending it doing what I love? am I spending it with people I love? how much time do I have left? it’s really terrifying, so I try to avoid those thoughts as best I can. but it’s hard.

anyway, in the midst of all of this, Jackson and I just finished Bojack Horseman, an amazing show on Netflix. I had no intention of loving this show. one of my newest and closest friends basically begged us to give it another chance (because we tried it years ago and didn’t like it). but we did, and we got hooked, and we binge-watched all 4 seasons in a little over a week. it’s such an incredible show. I honestly have considered writing an entire whole spiel about it, but haven’t gotten around to it yet. it’s clever and funny, while also being very dark, nihilistic, and uncomfortably real when it comes to depression/anxiety. and while I’ve enjoyed it thoroughly as a beautifully crafted story... a lot of it has struck a little too close to home. the series focuses on a very self-centered and self-destructive protagonist that--spoiler alert--is never really redeemed, which in and of itself is difficult to process. you repeatedly see that his character is deeply flawed, and despite his attempts to confront his abusive past and clear mental illness, he is still horrible and never changes. in most movies and series, at some point something happens that brings the character out of his “funk” and he works toward healing or recovery. Bojack never really does. he is all the things wrong with him and he never fully takes responsibility for it. he hates himself to a debilitating degree, and no matter how much he says he wants to get better, he never does. it’s... distressing. especially for someone like me, who always seeks stories with closure and resolution. Bojack is very unique in its realism, and in a way, kind of slaps you in the face with how dark it is. especially considering it’s a show where some of the characters are animals with human qualities, and it’s hilarious how the Bojack world functions.

anyway... this has kind of been my life recently. trying to wrap my head around my grandma’s impending passing and my inevitable existential dread, coupled with my lack of job and career prospects and consequently still questioning my purpose in life, all while being deeply influenced by a very heavy show that essentially outlines how we’re all flawed individuals that will always be flawed but in order to be decent and functioning people we have to find ways to cope with our trauma and our parents’ trauma while clinging tightly to the relationships that we have or else we’ll be lost to our own self-destructive cycles of depression and abuse.

also I’ve been trying to hang on to my friends, family, and husband, and not let them know how close I am to losing it on a daily basis.

but, as usual, the memes definitely help! :)

[tokyoteddywolf]

Even More Russian Antics

ahahahahaha i can’t stop making these :D

updates, how to get kicked out of russia, and i like how they turned out. So have a laugh! (No skaters were harmed in the making of these little pranks. Possibly. Well, what else do you expect from Yurio???)

Enjoy 41-80!

333 Ways To Get Kicked Out Of The Rink And Russia Itself

1. Switch the drinks at the banquet with random condiment liquids.

   Yuuri was more than confused when he went to drink some of the fruit punch and found it was just watery filtered ketchup with lemons thrown in. Yurio was nowhere to be seen.

2. Hit people with pirozhki's.

This backfired on Yurio when Viktor's hair became a victim. He went MIA after said older Russian skater finally caught him….

3. Walk up to some old geezer and yell, “Grandpa! You're alive! It's a miracle!”

Viktor wouldn't stop sulking under the benches in the locker rooms when Yuuri tried this….

4. Dart around suspiciously humming the Mission: Impossible theme song.

Everyone was highly concerned for Phichit's mental state.

5. Buy several dozen fishing rods. Go on the roof and test them out, saying you're fishing for toupees.

Mila caught 35, Yurio got 31, and Georgi won with a staggering 108.

6. Hold Barbie hostage.

Yurio didn't really mind, Otabek was his friend after all. Besides, he quite liked the horrified looks of his fans when the Kazakhstan skater grabbed him as he sped by on his motorcycle.

7. TP as much of the rink as you can.

Nobody suspected innocent Yuuri to be good with his throwing arm, but almost every inch of the rink was covered in toilet paper. Viktor was automatically blamed.

8. Hide in the skate racks. Whenever someone comes to grab a pair, yell “Pick me! Pick me!”

Yuuko was incredibly unimpressed when the triplets pulled this prank on their father. However, hearing Takeshi scream like a child was worth it, and they all got ice cream that night.

9. Dress as Batman and burst into the rink screaming, “Come Robin! To the Batmobile!”

Guang-Hong was just extremely confused at Leo's antics, wondering if all Americans were this weird.

10. Challenge people to duels with wrapping paper.

It was the best birthday yet, in Viktor's opinion.

11. Buy several singing toy Viktor's from Amazon, and once you have them, set them up on the ice and get your friends to turn them on. Proceed to act like a conductor.

Yuuri was actually really good at anything music related. The impromptu concert certainly amused the others.

12. Go up to random people and poke them. If they ask what you're doing, inform them that you're trying to find out what they ate for breakfast.

Georgi got kicked across the room when he tried this on Yurio.

13. Leave cryptic messages all over Instagram as an anon.

Nobody knew Phichit could even scream that loud.

14. Skate around screaming “There's a dead body in here!”

Yakov was unamused at Mila's actions.

15. Go up to the Russian Fairy and say, “Yurio, I am your father.”

It wasn't even remotely funny for Viktor. It just opened up more wounds.

16. Make evil eyes at people and whisper “I am the Lady Of The Well…..i've been waiting...”

Minako's Halloween party was the bomb.

17. Ride around in a Barbie car and pretend to be a posh upperclassman, sipping vodka from a teacup and saying things like “Top hole!” and “By Jove!”

Yuuri should have never let Minako watch Doctor Who.

18. Start dancing like mad. Wave your arms and flop like a fish.

Everyone assumed Yuuri was drunk again. The ensuing dance battle was certainly better than last year.

19. Balance everything you see on the tip of your nose, fingers, on your forehead, and top of your head all while singing the circus song.

Otabek won with 4 water bottles, Yuuri's duffle bag, 5 pairs of ice skates, and Yurio, all while skating circles around Phichit, who was filming the entire thing.

20. Start singing songs through the PA system at the ice arena.

The entire skating crew all joined in on a perfect rendition of Stammi Vicino. The announcers were extremely entertained.

21. Blackmail your friend into giving you a piggy back and have them run around the town, screaming “The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!”

The next GFP was certainly better prepared after Yuuri and Phichit gave the warning. Though Phichit on Yuuri's back was certainly a weird mode of transport….

22. Take a fishing pole, a bag of money, and go people fishing.

Georgi was still bored, and eventually caught Yurio.

23. Pretend to be Spiderman by running up walls and saving people.

Guang-Hong really had to get Leo to stop watching those superhero movies of his, this was getting ridiculous.

24. Pretend to have an asthma attack, and bite anyone who tries to help you.

Emil went to the doctor after Yurio pulled this stunt in Barcelona… that's what he got for trying to be a nice friend…..

25. Lie on the ground. Just lie there. It's guaranteed to freak people out.

Revenge for the Grampa joke. Yuuri was panicking like crazy when Viktor pulled this stunt after a failed jump.

26. Announce an ice sliding contest. Take off your skates and proceed to do just that.

The game had to stop after Georgi slid too far into the rink wall.

27. Put on a black ski mask and cape and run around declaring “Zorro has returned!”

Nobody was sure where Sara went during the hours when a masked vigilante ran rampant through Russia.

28. Protest against cat abuse.

Nobody knew what the fuck just happened after Yurio ran down the streets, completely drunk and screaming “Run my feline friends! Run!” at the head of a cat stampede.

29. Start a barbershop quartet.

Yuuri, Viktor, Chris and Phichit soon become number one on the charts with their hit song, When Drunk People Dance On Poles.

30. Dress in a trenchcoat and sunglasses, go up to random people, hand them marshmallow guns, and say, “You know what to do.”

Thus started Russia's Marshmallow War 1, thanks to Phichit stealing Viktor's clothes.

31. Go up to random people carrying a paper bag and say “Trick or treat!” When they refuse, give them puppy dog eyes.

Guang-Hong's legendary puppy eyes were something to fear.

32. Cover your hand with blue paint. Run up to someone, put your hand on their face and yell “A clue! A clue!”

Yurio's knife shoes were the talk of the town after JJ tried this on the Russian Fairy and subsequently had to go to the hospital for minor lacerations.

33. Scream really loudly and when someone asks you to be quiet, scream, “I WON'T BE SILENCED!”

Apparently, Yuuri was trying out a new anxiety coping method.

34. Grow out your hair.

Needless to say, Yuuri and Viktor disappeared for a little while once Viktor noticed how long Yuuri's hair had gotten… Yurio was disgusted.

35. Grab a can of whipped cream, find a bald guy, and spray it on him.

Yakov blasted Mila's eardrums for that one.

36. Start singing horrible karaoke.

Nobody's ears were ever the same after Mickey took the mic.

37. Loudly announce that you will be the one to win gold this year.

Yuuri actually didn't care, he just wanted to see the chaos.

38. Go magical creature hunting.

Yurio was unamused at Otabek and Phichit.

39. Run up to someone, slap them, and scream, “WHAT IS THIS?!? I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL!!!”

Viktor stared after Yuuri in horror, holding his damaged cheek. He was just talking to Chris!

40. Fall over and scream “Ah! The pain! The terrible pain!” When someone asks what's wrong, stand up and say “Nothing, why?” and walk away as if nothing had happened.

Chris just liked making people's days a little more surreal.

41. Dress up as an emo person, and whenever someone talks to you, scream, “WHY HAVE YOU COME TO WORSEN MY MISERY?!?”

“Mila, is Georgi always like this?”

“You'll get used to it, Yuuri.”

42. Host your own radio show.

Phichit and Otabek made a great commentary team.

43. Hide a walkie-talkie somewhere and whisper, “I know where you live.”

Yuuri's scream was worth it, in Yurio's opinion.

44. Run around Russia in a swimsuit singing “Surfin' USA”

Note to self, NEVER LET LEO NEAR THE VODKA. Phichit recorded the whole thing, and Leo became a meme.

45. Look for Narnia.

Viktor thought this was hilarious when he managed to pull a dazed Yuuri out of his wardrobe.

46. Release pigs into the rink labeled 1, 2 and 4.

They lost it when Yurio calmly taped a piece of paper labeled “3” on Yuuri's back.

47. Go on a road trip.

You've seen the official art, why are you asking me?

48. Learn to play the banjo.

Once again, Yuuri dazzled the Russian Crew with his music skills, and the ensuing hoedown inspired a new routine or two.

49. Go mattress surfing.

It was Phichit's idea, and it made Detroit a lot more fun than before, in Yuuri's opinion.

50. Hold a snowball fight.

Yurio was terrifyingly good at this.

51. Sing everything you say, and when questioned, inform them that you're in a musical.

Even Yakov joined in, and Musical On Ice was a huge success.

52. Play Human Dominoes

Otabek's day just got that much better.

53. Crash a party.

Episode 10, anyone?

54. Create a giant conga line.

Jesus, how many fans did JJ have???

55. Have a rap battle.

Nobody knew Otabek could rap that fast, but he did. Very well. He was, however, beaten out by Yuuri.

56. Get a pinata and bust it open.

Yurio had taped JJ's picture on it. It was a great stress reliever.

57. Dress someone up as a chicken.

Minami had no idea what was going on, but he went along with it.

58. Play frisbee on the ice.

It wasn't a problem until they nailed Yakov in the face.

59. Write angsty and gory fanfiction.

Nobody was the same after finding Yuuri's account.

60. Stage a riot.

“WHAT?! YURATCHKA DIDN'T WIN OVER JJ???”

“THOSE BASTARDS!'

“GET THEM!”

61. When someone asks for your help, begin to cry and say, “Why won't you people leave me alone?!”

Everyone was alarmed when Celestino burst into tears every time someone asked him for help on jumps.

62. If a skater with more than one gold medal comes within 30 feet of you, scream “GET AWAY FROM ME!!!” and run out of the area.

Viktor started sobbing when everyone careened away from him, even his beloved Yuuri. JJ was just confused.

63. Glare menacingly and hiss like a pissed off cat whenever someone comes near you.

Yurio had half the town terrified, with the glares, hissing, and raising of a leg with a freshly sharpened knife shoe attached.

64. Cover your face with cream cheese and thunder down the streets of Saint Petersburg chanting “We love bagels! We love bagels!”

Another reason why Yakov needed headache medicine after he forgot the breakfast bagels one time.

65. Run around singing, “I KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVES!”

Yuuri hid in the lockers, only for the rest of the skater crew to bust down the door, still singing.

66. Dress up like a fairy, climb up a ladder and say to every person that passes by, “Your wish is granted!”

Drunk Yurio is best Yurio, until he started crying when he realized he was afraid of heights.

67. Ride in a Barbie sports car with Barbie in the backseat and say “Let's bust this joint!”

Yurio had to admit, that Viktor certainly had an interesting choice of vehicles to ride in.

68. Wrap a hose around you and scream, “AH! I'M BEING HELD HOSTAGE!”

The scary thing was, Guang-Hong wasn't joking.

69. Walk up to someone and act like you can read their mind, then say, “Sir/Madam… don't do that.”

Yurio was stunned speechless when Otabek told him this just seconds after he had come to the decision of cutting JJ.

70. Hit your head and say, “Shut up in there!”

Everyone was extremely concerned for Yuuri.

71. Act as though you're being beaten and fall to the ground, screaming and having convulsions.

Georgi's performance got a 10/10 rating from the rest of the skaters.

72. Swing on the banners.

Apparently, dance battles were not enough for drunk Yuuri, and soon the “Congrats On The Gold!” banner was ripped on the floor while Yuuri sobbed over his aching bum, and for once it wasn't Viktor's fault.

73. Grab heavy, but not too heavy objects and see who can throw them the farthest.

The game had to be discontinued when Seung-Gil calmly picked up Yurio.

74. Knock over all the tables at the banquet and scream, “EARTHQUAKE! EVERYBODY RUN!!!”

Phichit was having too much fun in California, and scared the living hell out of Leo when he pulled this.

75. Hold a 12 pack of vodka over your head and shout “FEAR ME AND MY ARMY OF ALCOHOL!!!”

Viktor and the Russian gang actually conquered a bit more territory for Russia this way, by invading towns and getting the villagers drunk off their asses.

76. Get popcorn and throw it at people, sneaking up to them unstealthily and screaming war cries.

Russia War 2 commenced when JJ threw the first kernel at Yurio.

77. Try on all of Viktor's old costumes and go to the rink and proceed to do the worst, overly dramatic impression of him you can manage without falling over in laughter.

If Viktor hadn't been laughing so hard at Yuuri and Yurio, he probably would have been lightly offended and possibly crying, but no, it was too funny seeing them flip their hair and say dramatic things in Russian, with Phichit recording everything.

78. Stare at the ceiling. See how many people look up.

Yakov felt immensely proud when he pulled this on his skaters and it worked.

79. Dress up as a ninja and go around karate chopping people.

Mari was quicker than she looked, and the only hint of a warning anyone got before they were chopped was a flash of dirty blonde brown hair and the smell of cigarette smoke.

80. Climb up to a tall place and scream until someone comes. If they try to get you down, scream, “HELP! KIDNAPPER!”

It was funny until Yurio realized he was actually stuck.

[gardnerkathryn1993]

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[its-a-soft-science]

CH 1 untitled Taron/Hugh WIP

Sooo... I’m just gonna post a bit here to see if I can connect with some other folks who ship these two and maybe get a little feedback on this thing while I continue to work on it. My heart is so warmed by their adorable “just two nontoxic theater school bros” giggle-fest dynamic, but then there’s also like this massive undercurrent of switchy, flirty energy that I really need to write about. Also I am obsessed with the architecture of Taron’s career and how all these admiring older men keep supporting his rise to greater heights of fame, and really interested in how this fictional version of him might feel about that.

CHAPTER ONE

He’s visiting at his mum’s house when Matthew rings and asks him if he knows who Eddie is. 

“We’ve got this script we’re fixing it up. It could be exactly the right next thing for you.”

He doesn’t in fact know who Eddie the Eagle is, which is slightly horrifying because he already really wants to nail this. His mum passes through the kitchen at that moment and he grabs a pen, scratches a quick note and waves it at her - “EDDIE the EAGLE? ROLE? MATTHEW V!” Her eyes widen and she nods and gives a thumbs up. She also makes a sort of quizzical, funny face at him before ducking out of the room again, which he has trouble deciphering. Was she laughing? He puts Matthew on speaker and does a quick google.

“Ok,” he scrolls through the results. “That’s… a look,” he murmurs, but not unkindly.  Eddie seems like a very sweet man.

“Mate, you can do handsome just by showing up.” Matthew isn’t a flatterer. He has an eerily clear vision for the trajectory of Taron’s career, which Taron truly appreciates. “Debonair is easy for you. This one would prove your range.” 

It’s a good point, and he trusts Matthew’s sense of the business implicitly. He knows who Dexter Fletcher is. And he is pretty aware of Hugh Jackman, for fuck’s sake.

“So am I auditioning then?” Not that he would mind at all. He may have starred in a movie but he doesn’t feel like a movie star, and god knows Hugh Jackman would be the big name in this one between the two of them.

“No no, it’s a screen test. We’re not trying you out against anyone, we want both of you and we’re trying you out together. It’s to protect you, and everybody really, and just make sure things really work before we get started.”

“Oh. Well that’s amazing actually. I mean, I’m in? I’m in.”

“Great. Listen, I wouldn’t bring this to you unless I thought it was going to work beautifully. I’ll send you some pages and we’ll give it a try, eh?”

“Yeah, ok. Um, thank you? Very excited, Matthew.”

“This could be something special,” Matthew promises before he hangs up.

Taron looks at the picture of Eddie again, and tries sticking his chin out a little.

***

It feels a bit like a blind date, Taron realizes on the day. He realizes this when he enters the Marv rehearsal space and comes face to face with Hugh Jackman for the first time.

Hugh is wearing a hoodie and dark jeans, and his handsomeness feels like an actual, tangible shape in the room. He’s taller than Taron imagined, broad shoulders, built like a mannequin, and he glows with a warm, ultra-famous movie star level of confidence. Taron feels like an absolute muffin in comparison. One of those small, dense ones that comes in a flimsy cellophane wrapper in American convenience stores. He tells himself that it’s highly likely most men feel like this around Hugh Jackman, and refuses to let it bother him.

Hugh greets him with a very vigorous, very Australian handshake that turns into a one armed hug. Unsurprisingly, he smells amazing. 

“Taron, excellent to meet you, mate!”

“Yeah, hello, lovely to meet you too,” Taron feels his voice doing the thing when he’s nervous and coping, where it flip flops from deep to high to deep again. He takes a deep breath to try to settle his nerves, and Hugh immediately notices.

“Good idea.” Hugh smiles and takes another deep breath in sync with him. “Have you done one of these before?” 

“Screen test?” Taron shakes his head. 

“It’s kind of like a blind date, I always think.” Hugh flashes him a wide, reassuring grin. “Let’s try to have fun and not overthink it, okay?” 

“Good idea.” He can feel himself mirroring Hugh’s smile and can’t wipe it off his face, even though he badly wants to be playing things so much cooler than this. Here at the thirty second mark of their acquaintance, he is sure that he deeply, deeply likes Hugh to the point of embarrassment. 

Hugh claps him on the shoulder. “Great. Say, I loved you in Kingsman. Just awesome, man.”

“Thanks. I will not miss the training.”

“Jesus, I feel you there. I’ve got a few months before I start up again. Let me know if you want to torture yourself with one of those actor discussions about protein supplements and core work, I’m great at those.”

Taron cocks an eyebrow in exaggerated intrigue. “Yeah I would love that, we can compare crash diets-”

“Mmm, yeah, describe our muscles to each other, really dig right into our deepest body insecurities-” Hugh nods.

And wow, Taron feels very seen. “Oh my god, yes, sign me up. Favorite part of the business.” 

This is a really nice surprise. He had honestly wondered if Hugh was going to maybe secretly be a slight prick, because of the weightlifting/wrestling/gym hound thing. But he appears to be a fairly normal person- or like if a normal person were also a stunningly fit dad.

“I did genuinely love you in Kingsman, you’re great. I just got this sense that there’s a lot of other things you’re good at, if that makes sense. Not just action, like some guys.”

“Um yeah, thank you. Not to be ungracious, of course. I owe Matthew a lot, And don’t get me wrong I loved it-“

“Of course,” Hugh nods in understanding. “I mean you sing though, right? Matthew mentioned.”

“Wow, yeah, I guess he talked me up.” Taron feels himself start to blush a little and shrugs.

Hugh shrugs back, smiling. “Just a little bit. Said we’d be good together.” 

Taron doesn’t know quite what to say. “Yeah! I sing, I mean not like you, but I do definitely skew more toward drama school than Die Hard.” 

Hugh raises an eyebrow. “Well me too. So this oughtta be fun.”

***

It is, in fact, very fun. It’s an acting work out, bouncing off of Hugh. It’s stiff at first but in a totally normal way, and things loosen up rapidly once they do the first scene a couple of times. He’s naturalistic and open, and it seems like he’s mostly just being himself but with a weary American swagger, and then each time they break he perks up again, eager and engaged and twinkly and Taron realizes how much depth Hugh’s actually layering into his performance.

There’s an aspect of him that reminds Taron slightly of Colin, the way he’s both excited and at ease. Different versions of a very self-possessed masculine energy, only Hugh is all wide-open sunshine where Colin is a gracefully poised, breezy day. Taron wonders if it’s just maturity that they have in common. 

He feels the edge of something, a feeling he knows well but hasn’t put a name to before. Something about Hugh’s groundedness with him today is making it easy to be self-aware without sliding into worry. So he turns the feeling over in his mind, and waits for it to make itself better known. This happened with Colin too, of course. He might be star struck. Or crushing. He can admit that, he’s not an idiot and there’s nothing wrong with it. The more scenes they run, the more primed his whole nervous system gets toward Hugh, laser focusing on all his reactions. Acting with him feels like playing, and it’s fucking fun. Plus, every time they break Hugh just shoots him these wordless looks of admiration like he’s blown away by every choice Taron’s making. They have to take a longer pause eventually, because Hugh keeps cracking up with delight whenever Taron tries out another Eddie thing.

“Sorry, it’s just really good. Would you heighten it?” 

“Well if I heighten it you’re clearly going to lose it, so no.” He smirks and adjusts the glasses he’s worn for the day, sticking his chin out more and heightening everything anyway.

“The squint! Yes! How are you doing that?”  At first Taron suspects that maybe he’s just being kind, building him up so that the screen test goes well. But Hugh is just genuinely fucking delighted, and it starts to give Taron a classic show-off high. 

“It’s kind of a sad eye thing, like this,” And he takes his glasses off for a moment to show Hugh how he squints in a faintly mournful sort of way. 

“Yep, that’s it.” Hugh claps his hands, beaming. “God, you really look just like him, that’s it.”

The validation washes over him and splashes messily over the top, he’s beaming right back and laughing like a bit of a tit, honestly, trying not to be too obvious about the way Hugh’s praise is hitting him. Then Matthew and Dexter both join in and start talking about how well the test has gone, and before he knows it the day is over, Hugh’s hugging him again and it’s time to go.

“So… I had a really nice time. Can I see you again?” Hugh jokes as their respective cars pull up outside the building. 

“Yeah, definitely call me,” Taron answers with a smile and wink, which gets Hugh absolutely guffawing as he turns away and waves over his shoulder. They’re going to do the movie together, that’s clear after today. And that interesting feeling does one more quick lap around Taron’s nervous system.

***

[gaiatheorist]

Choices, behaviours, consequences.

The latest stop on my voyage around the NHS Mental Health service has wiped me out. I’ve dumped myself into one of my self-judgemental phases, and I need to haul myself out, because it’s making me physically ill, when I’m already emotionally fragile. I don’t have the capacity to deal with both-at-once, on top of all the pre-existing conditions. I’m allowing myself one rabbit-hole, then I’ll either ‘post’ or ‘close.’

Choice- I have the choice to ruminate in fragmented snatches about the therapeutic pathway I’m being allocated onto, or purge it all in one go, and ‘close the box’.

Behaviours- I’ve had a couple of days (my concept of day/night is as skewed as everything else) of having intrusive snatches of “That’s not MY fault!” and “That’s a useful behaviour, I want to keep that bit.” It’s not productive, but ‘blocking’ emotional responses is what I need to work on. (Badly phrased, I need to work on stopping-blocking, and learn to do the whole ‘mindful/in the moment’ thing. I can’t do that on my own, that’s what the therapy is going to teach me to do.) 

Consequences- A fair old chunk of self-loathing, and a few spikes of “I’m not changing THAT!” I’ll ‘make this worse before I make it better’ by typing this, but, for now, rules/routine are my least-harmful coping strategy. My pretend-rule of ‘once I type it, it is done’ might well be a strategy the therapist advises, or not, the old ‘diarising/mood-journal’ thing, for now, it’s all I have.

The choices/behaviour/consequence tag is borrowed from a behaviour policy implemented at the school I used to work in. “If you choose to continue with behaviour ‘x’, you are choosing consequence ‘y’.” Logical, linear, rational, which worked with the students who understood the concept, but not the students who didn’t feel that their behaviour was a choice. That’s where I find myself, like a twelve-year-old having a screaming meltdown in a maths class because everything-is-awful, and now there’s algebra in it as well. 

That’s a difficult admission. When I’m focused on something, it doesn’t happen, when my mind is engaged, there’s less capacity for the disjointed thinking, and disordered behaviours. When I’m ‘in the zone’ I can be phenomenal, I haven’t had a zone of late. I’ve had two years of drifting, ironically, having ‘won’ my disability benefit, and now having the capacity to address my physical and emotional health is in-part responsible for the drift. 17 months of that two years were spent engaged in a battle with DWP. Pyrrhic victory? Possibly, I’ll need to do it all again in nine months. I’ll still have brain injuries, but I might have had some therapy for the Mental Health side of things. (Externalising, raging against the machine, there. The systems are atrocious, though.) This distracted-drifting phase isn’t good for me, and there’s only so much of it I can fill with free OU courses. 

There are two prongs to that difficult admission. I ‘caught myself’ showing off yesterday, that’s one of my behaviours. I was plodding through an OU course on juvenile delinquency, and my notes for section 3.3 turned out to be a more condensed version of section 3.4. Look at me, aren’t I clever? No, not especially, it was an introductory level course on a subject I already have some broad awareness of. I was almost-but-not-quite that gobby kid in the classroom, who kicks off with “We’ve already done this!” during a revision class. Slightly more self-aware than I was when I was at school, I chose to expand-out on my knowledge, rather than dismiss it as baby-work. (I very clearly remember the Special Needs teacher assessing me when I moved schools, “Miss, I’ve finished.” “Well done, now turn over the page and do the next sheet.” “Miss, I’ve done all of the sheets.” That was repeated with last year’s neuro-psych assessment, but in reverse. “I don’t know.” “Would you like me to repeat the question.” “No, repeating the question won’t help, I still won’t be able to calculate the answer, the numbers are 3, 8, and 4, I just don’t know how to move them around.”) 

That one is a learned behaviour, the educational system taught me that ‘being intelligent’ was rewarded, taught me to crow-when-I-know, and I’ve built that into my weird defensive mechanisms, trying to ‘prove’ I’m clever. Sometimes I’m unkind with it, my delusions of grandeur are going to have to go. Sometimes I’ll argue for the sake of it, not so much now, because I expose myself to fewer people to argue with. Sometimes, I’ll get an idea into my head, and refuse to back down, my patented tactic of “Other people will eventually agree, just to get me to shut up.” 

The MH assessment was horrible on many fronts, I think that the one that has hit hardest is acknowledging that I’m not as intelligent as I like to project. “Did you use any of the strategies your last counsellor gave you?” “Not really, they were strategies I already knew, from being a Learning Mentor. I didn’t think that the sort of thing I’d teach a 13-year-old was appropriate.” (I bloody hate worksheets, long-standing issue with generic strategies for individual issues.) “Maybe that foundation level is where you need to start from.” She might as well have punched me in the guts, that winded-wounded me, but she’s right, ‘knowing’ something is not the same as ‘doing’ it, I’ve been ‘acting clever’ for most of my life. I was acutely aware of my tendency to ‘shout out the answer’ during the group-work I had to do to access further intervention. (Now chuckling at the time I whacked myself in the face with a rolling-pin after my brother’s ex and I imposed a rule that only the person holding the rolling-pin could speak, we were both babblers.) I wasn’t fully engaged with the course, because I was consciously suppressing my urge to act-up, show-off, be-clever. 

My Dad told me I was stupid, ugly, weak. My ex compounded that, by belittling me at every opportunity. I stopped speaking to them both, because I’m Little-Miss-Can’t-Be-Wrong, but now a qualified mental health doctor has very gently pointed out that I’m not-all-that. I am undone. (I did have a really unpleasant period of wondering whether there was any point existing if I couldn’t be ‘that’, but, if I can’t be ‘that’, I’ll just have to be something else.)  

Cognitive Analytic Therapy. A sixteen-session course of relational therapy, 1:1 with a therapist, where we’ll pick apart my disordered thinking, and work on re-routing it. Learned behaviours can be un-learned, right? I’ve had my two days of don’t-want-to stompy tantrum, and accepted that I cannot be a smart-arse about this. I need to go in with an open mind, and not roll my eyes when the crayons come out. (There will be crayons, there’s a ‘mapping’ exercise, which ISN’T the same as the one I did in RE in secondary school, thank you very much, dismissive-superiority-complex head.) I’ve always had disordered thinking, and now I have a damaged brain as well, I could ‘cope’ with the cognitive tangents when my brain was intact, with a variety of maladaptive strategies. It’s going to be a case of taking guidance on what I need to let go of, Marie Kondo for my mind. I need to not obsessively cling to my security blanket of weird, the therapist is not going to ‘take’ the fundamental essence of me away, they’re going to help me to make it more functional. 

I don’t ‘have to’ be an Instagram-Stepford-wife, nobody is going to force me to take up kitten-plaiting and cake-decorating, but I will have to relinquish some of my control-behaviours. I will have to accept that parrot-repeating a theory is not the same as understanding and applying it, and that I can’t continue deflecting intense emotions with my bizarre tool-kit of avoidance tactics. I give lip-service to the notion of recognise-reflect-respond, but tend to skip the ‘reflect’ stage, and ‘respond’ by putting the emotion on the ‘things to deal with later’ pile. They’re not going to try to make me into something I’m not, some of my coping mechanisms are acceptable, and you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. 

Onwards. I have the referral for the CAT, which I acknowledge that I need. I have a referral to the MH social prescribing team, which will probably come through first, a holding-strategy of day-centres that probably smell funny, and ‘little bits of voluntary work.’ I’ve also requested a formal diagnosis, I need an official name for ‘this’, apparently I shouldn’t use ‘Complex PTSD’ due to the absence of flashbacks and nightmares about the original abuse, I was too tired to mention the panic attacks and nightmares I have about the more-recent compounding factors. I’m moving forwards, and I have to seek-and-follow, because I can’t untangle this mess on my own. Every time I’ve tried to put myself back together, I’ve followed my usual DIY practice of deciding not to put ALL the screws back in, because it’ll be easier to access the next time it breaks. It’s not going to be a quick fix, but at least it’s not medication, I was able to articulate that the ‘Prozac fog’ on top of the brain injuries posed a risk of self-neglect. (Smirking, that my adorable GP knows me well enough to keep prescribing enough medication to kill a small horse, he knows I’m going nowhere along the overdose route.) 

I don’t know whether the therapy or diagnosis will happen before my disability benefit comes up for review. I do suspect that DWP will attempt to declare me fit-for-work regardless of whether anything has changed, so I’ll just have to deal with that when it happens, and not rabbit-hole myself about how the punitive-scrutiny of the DWP systems and processes are part of the reason I need help. I was damaged before the brain haemorrhage, before the separation from the ex, before the kid going away to uni, before I lost my job, and had to throw myself on the mercy of state benefits, it’s the cumulative toll of all-of-it that’s tipped me. Saying “That happened, accept it and move on.” isn’t actually accepting, it’s deflecting, and I can’t keep doing that.