#i do think they should get a new commissioner and i've heard some good names

[the-physicality]

c*thy and chr*stie are the same in that they will both get labeled "successful" for what happened under their "leadership" but at the end of the day all the good things that happened happened in spite of them.

[magicinaframe-part2]

Have You Dreamed, Recently?

Bloggers, here, at Tumblr, will agree when I say that this society -- the U. S. -- is filled with many stressful jobs.

From the time I started working in New York City, in June of 1979, to the end of 2010, I worked in a number of stressful jobs. Two, immediately, come to mind. I worked as a messenger for a number of years and I worked as a secretary in a child welfare agency; also, for a number of years.

In both cases, I do not remember whether or not I ever dreamed about these jobs, while I was employed. In my spare time, I did think about both of them, but I do not remember dreaming about either one.

And...because I don't remember whether I dreamed about the job while I was employed, then it follows that I did not dream about them. If I had such a dream, I would have written down as many details as I could remember. That is to say, if a dream -- any dream -- is so impressive that I wake up, I try to write down as many details as I can. I've been doing that for many years, starting in the 1990s.

I bring up the subject because the movie that I watched recently -- a movie listed at the Internet Movie Database with a running time of 85 minutes -- is, in my humble opinion, a visualization of a dream of the main character.

And what does the main character in this movie do for work? She's a freelance news reporter who lives and works in Rome, Italy. Sometimes, she writes for a newspaper and, sometimes, she works for a TV channel.

Is that a recipe for a busy life? Is that a recipe for a stressful life?

It's a recipe for a good movie script, with the main character either a man or a woman. The idea for this movie that I've watched originated with a man and, then, two women and one man worked on the script.

I have to add that a news reporter, working in Rome, throughout the 1970s, would undoubtedly have been dealing with a stressful job. Perhaps the scriptwriters knew news reporters working in Italy's best known city?

This movie that I'm thinking of is a European co-production. It takes place in Rome, with Italian language dialog. It's a movie that did not get theatrical distribution, in the U. S.

And it's another example of a movie that should be thoroughly researched...

A student protest is in progress, in the daytime, outside the entrance gate of a Church-affiliated college in Rome. Students, in formation, are quick-stepping and chanting "Worker power," over and over. A police car drives past the formation. In the car's backseat, a Commissioner and a detective make an on-the-spot appraisal of the situation and the car, then, moves past the demonstrators and out of view.

As the protest continues, a beautiful- looking woman, older than the students, stylishly dressed, is introduced, talking to people on the street -- people who are much older than the students. She asks the people what they think about the demonstration. She uses a tape recorder with an over-the-shoulder strap and tells several of the passers-by that her questions are for television.

This character -- the first character formally introduced in this movie -- is named Barbara. Her family name is never mentioned in the dialog, nor anything specific about her past life. The scenes play out, one after the other, with no reference to past events in Barbara's life, until late in the plot, in dialog with another important character, when she decides that she and her new boyfriend should leave Rome (She mentions two locations she enjoyed travelling to, when she was younger.).

In a matter of minutes, once the movie gets going, a perceptive viewer might start noticing some unusual details, as scene after scene takes place. For one thing, Barbara is in the habit of thinking to herself, wherever she is -- whether she's covering a news story, or she's at home, or she's arriving at a police station -- and she often has a conversation in her mind with her mother, whose voice is heard on the soundtrack.

Other characters are introduced who also have on-going conversations with themselves, with family members, with lovers, in their mind.

As the demonstration makes its way through the entrance gate onto the grounds of the College, a group of young adult males are introduced. They are behaving oddly, as if they're observing the demonstration and planning to do something. One of the group, suddenly, for no apparent reason, picks a fight with another young adult male in the group, gets hit in the head, and collapses to the ground.

Barbara sees this and tries to revive the young adult male, thinking to herself as she does so, but the young adult male quickly comes to, springs to his feet, and proceeds to play cat and mouse with the reporter -- who becomes more and more uneasy, as she tries to back away from the young adult male. As she backs away, the others in the group join in the cat and mouse game.

One of this group, in particular, moves about in a threatening manner. His physical appearance, his facial features, the clothes he wears, all combine in a way that is deliberately intimidating.

In short order, the group forces Barbara to give up the keys to her car. The car is, then, moved from its parking spot and its engine is set on fire.

The group, now, with an added young adult female, dances off into the distance. They're triumphant about what they did.

The group, then, enlists another young adult male, named Michele (pronounced 'mee-KAY-leh'), to assassinate someone that they will designate and to also befriend Barbara.

When Michele shows up the following morning, hanging around Barbara's unusual-looking, modernistic home, her anxiety from the events of the previous day intensifies, and the remainder of the plot becomes a steady progression, ending in tragedy.

On a large movie theater screen, the dream-like images and situations would be unforgettable. The impact is less on a laptop screen or on my 29-inch flatscreen television.

The name of the movie is THE PACIFIST. The movie debuted in theaters in Italy, late in December of 1970. If any of what I have written sounds interesting, THE PACIFIST is available on DVD, with English subtitles. THE PACIFIST can also be viewed, with English subtitles, at You Tube, where it is shown with commercials.

-- Drew Simels

[lastsonlost]

Woke' warriors on San Fran school board deny gay white dad with bi-racial daughter place on volunteer parent committee because he's not diverse ENOUGH!

Seth Brenzel, a gay white father of a bi-racial child, was denied a spot on the San Francisco Board of Education's volunteer parent committee

The issue of whether to allow Brenzel to volunteer for the 15-person parent advisory council was debated for almost two hours on Tuesday night 

His candidacy faced opposition from some board members and members of the public who argued that there wasn't enough diversity on the council 

Those who opposed his candidacy were concerned with the fact that he is white 

The 15-person council currently only has 10 members: Two black mothers, one Asian-American, three Latinx, one Pacific Islander and three white 

Brenzel, who is the executive director of a music program for children, is openly gay. He lives in San Francisco with his husband and their young daughter

If approved, Brenzel would have been the only father on the council 

The issue of whether to allow Seth Brenzel to volunteer for the 15-person parent advisory council was debated for almost two hours on Tuesday night during a board meeting. 

The parent advisory council, who had unanimously supported Brenzel to join their all-female committee, had submitted his name to be approved by the school board. 

His candidacy, however, faced opposition from some board members and members of the public who argued that there wasn't enough diversity on the council - even though there are five seats currently empty.

Those who opposed his candidacy were concerned with the fact that he is white. 

The 15-person council currently only has 10 members: Two black mothers, one Asian-American, three Latinx, one Pacific Islander and three white. 

Brenzel, who is the executive director of a music program for children, is openly gay. He lives in San Francisco with his husband and their young daughter. 

If approved, Brenzel would have been the only father on the council. 

After the lengthy debate, the school board eventually decided against voting on his appointment at all and asked the council to find alternate candidates for them to consider. 

Brenzel's appointment to the council was just one of the agenda items for the meeting that ended up going for seven hours. 

Another item on the agenda was about reopening San Francisco schools amid the COVID-19 pandemic. 

It is the same school board that last month voted 6-1 to strike the names of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln from the district's institutions.

As a result, 44 schools had to change their names after board members deemed the historical figures to have ties to racism or have 'dishonorable legacies' despite basing the decision on incorrect Wikipedia articles. 

The issue of diversity was a main argument in deciding whether to appoint Brenzel to the council. 

One person, only identified as Tara, said during the meeting: 'They are not a diverse group of parents as far as I have seen, I have noticed and have observed.' 

Others who opposed Brenzel's appointment argued that the council 'does not even mirror Joe Biden's cabinet' and that other 'voices need to be heard first before white queer voices'. 

Commissioner Matt Alexander - who described himself as the lone white board member - had said that it seemed 'like the white members are over-represented on the P.A.C.' and that there was an under-representation of 'Arab, Vietnamese, Native American folks'.

'I'm probably going to get complaints now I'm telling white parents not to be involved or something. I want to be clear, that's not what I'm saying,' he said, before later adding that 'white parents also in the city tend to have a lot of privilege and power and access the board of ed in various ways.' 

Several others, however, defended Brenzel's candidacy, pointing out that he would bring diversity because he is gay and a father.

'I see no reason why Seth should not be confirmed. I think this is just honestly just a political show so you can say that you stopped a white person from getting on,' one speaker said. 

Another member of the public said: 'I'm very upset we are focusing solely on race. Seth would be the only male on the pact. He would be the only LGBTQ member. He has a bi-racial child.

'I mean, this notion of oh, he's just a white person therefore we can't have him, it's absolute nonsense. There's diversity beyond the color of our skin and I think it is important to consider diversity beyond just race and the intersectionalty of parents.

'We are all diverse in our own way and Seth brings a lot of diversity to a pact that has no men and no LGBTQ parents.' 

It comes as the school board president Gabriela López, 30, defended last month's decision to rename the 44 schools honoring historical leaders who have since been branded by activists as racist.  

San Francisco Unified School District had been criticized for voting by 6-1 last month to change the name of one-third of the city's schools.

Parents and residents became concerned when it emerged that historians had not been consulted by the renaming committee.

Instead, committee members allegedly used references from Wikipedia and other non-scholarly sources to determine which personalities were racist and problematic. 

Several of those citations have now been proven to be factually incorrect, including a false claim that American poet James Russell Lowell did not want black people to vote and that Paul Revere's military activities were tied to 'the conquest of the Penobscot Indians'. 

Gabriela López, the head of the San Francisco Board of Education, continues to defend the decision claiming in a tense interview with the New Yorker that she doesn't want to 'discredit the work that this group has done' despite their use of inaccurate information.

She claimed that she did not believe the names had been selected in a haphazard way, even after being read a list of the misinformation that was used in some of the decisions. 

'No, because I've already shared with you that the people who have contributed to this process are also part of a community that is taking it as seriously as we would want them to,' Lopez argued about the errors made in the research process. 

'And they're contributing through diverse perspectives and experiences that are often not included, and that we need to acknowledge. 

'What I keep hearing is you're trying to undermine the work that has been done through this process. And I'm moving away from the idea that it was haphazard,' she said in the strained Q&A. 

Lopez also pushed back on the complaints that historians were not consulted as part of the process. 

Among the names included on the list that had provoked pushback from residents and historians was President Abraham Lincoln.  

Lopez said that she did not believe Lincoln was a person she would 'admire or see as a hero'.

'I think that the killing of indigenous peoples and that record is something that is not acknowledged,' she said.

'It's something that people are now learning about, and due to this process. And so, we just have to do the work of that extra learning when we're having these discussions.'

Lopez also claimed that the renaming was only facing criticism because 'people will always have a problem with the discussion of racism', not because of the inaccurate information.

'That is what I know. That is why I'm getting death threats. That is why people aren't open to other possibilities. Because when we have this discussion, that's the outcomes no matter how good it's set up, no matter how open we are,' she said. 

'No matter what, people are going to have an issue with that. That is what I know, given my experience. Of course, I'm hearing what you're saying, but I don't think it's going to change the outcome. People are still going to be up in arms when we're doing this.'

Among the other criticism received by the city's board of education was that it had voted on the renaming when there appeared to be no plan in place to bring students back to in-person learning.

'What I cannot understand is why the school board is advancing a plan of all these schools renamed by April when there isn't a plan to have our kids back in the classroom by then,' San Francisco Mayor London Breed had said.

The city of San Francisco has also since sued the board of education and school district claiming they have violated a state law that required districts to adopt a clear plan during the pandemic as it relates to in-person education.

Lopez claimed that it is 'completely false' to say they don't have a plan and accused to the mayor of jumping at 'any opportunity to cause further division'.  

[thewolfmanslayer]

Honestly the amount of people who say artists and writers should do stuff for free, or try to rip them off on comissions still royally piss me off.

I think the worst part of it is the entitlement, I dont want to make this too much about generations but a lot of commissioners are millenial/Gen z's who grew up on the "steal and pirate everything" mentality, take everything that you can because no one else is going to hand it to you. which I can get behind, when you are screwing over MULTI BILLION DOLLAR COMPANIES. NOT THE STRUGGLING ARTISTS AND WRITERS who are trying to keep food on the table as desperately as you probably are!

It's simple, you wouldn't walk into a restaurant, order food and tell the server "sorry I don't have any money, but I've got like a few thousand followers on social media, I can get your name out there, get the restaurant some exposure" NO! They don't need "exposure" they need you to pay the damn bill!

On top of that, most of these artists and writers ALREADY HAVE FOLLOWINGS. They already have thousands of people following them, waiting for the chance to get a commission, who are willing to pay for said commission, they don't need "exposure" when they're already out there! He'll even the artists and writers with a few hundred don't need it, they'll get more followers as time goes by, their skill alone will see to it.

And what is with people trying to get free art and writing? It's not going to work! You can't harass someone until they cave, trust me, you'll be long since blocked before you even have the opportunity. I don't do comissions, online anyways, but my own friends and family, people who actually know me STILL PAY ME whenever they ask for me to do art for them because they KNOW it takes TIME AND EFFORT.

How many times do we need to have this discussion???? Like when is it going to finally click that people who need to pay their bills just as much as you do AREN'T going to do this shit for free!?

Here's the thing about art and writing, that you've heard a billion times but still aren't getting; IT. TAKES. TIME. AND. EFFORT. TO. GET. DONE. the art isn't going to magically appear and the writing isn't going to suddenly write itself, if either were so convenient YOU WOULDNT BE ASKING AN ARTIST OR WRITER IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Look at that, you see that? The first picture I did back in 2012-13, the picture beside it? I did that TWO YEARS AGO. I didn't suddenly know exactly what to do, or had anything close to a god given talent for drawing (I'm not that talented). The first picture WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST I COULD DO AT THE TIME THAT I MADE IT. In the time between these two drawings I admittedly took a break from art, but then I got back into it four years ago. EVEN STILL that was four YEARS of starting over from the basics, relearning everything, learning new things, wanting to actually improve my art.

Which, guess what, DID NOT HAPPEN OVER NIGHT. It was HOURS UPON HOURS of my limited free time as an adult drawing over and over and over and over again, every single goddamn day to get to the point that I was able to make that redraw look as good as it does in comparison. He'll, my art now puts them both to shame! Because I spent the time improving my quality!!

Now look at these artists doing comissions, they've probably put EVEN MORE of their time to get that good! They've put in LITERAL YEARS of sweat, blood, tears, frustrations and dedicated hardwork. Some did the same as me, self teaching and lots of practice, others probably had to go to school, which definitely wasn't cheap. But all of us put in that time and effort TO REACH THESE POINTS. Of being better artists, developing our styles, getting faster at drawing.

And maybe you think that this is super easy, right? That I or every other artist can just fire some art off and boom its good and done in like an hour?

FUCK. NO.

Even now it takes me several hours a day OVER MANY DAYS to make something exceptionally good! It doesn't matter how good an artist is, it still. Takes. Time.

Maybe the issue is that you don't understand how much actually goes into art, let me break it down for you, the steps that most people follow to finish ONE drawing.

-Rough draft: general character outline, get a feel for what I want to draw.

-Rough sketch: I start doing a bit of pencil to start filling in details like mouth, nose, eyes, hair, clothes. Ect.

-Penciling: I go over the rough sketch and clean everything up, maybe do some editing, this is when you can start making out all the details.

-Ink: I trace over the finished pencil with a pen tool and actually have the line art, everything looks clean, presentable, it actually looks like a character now. I'll spend time editing this and possibly redoing the inking many times over to get to a point where I like it.

-Flat color: I decide on which colors to use for skin tone, clothes accessories. Ect.

-Shading/highlights: I figure out where my light source is and how strong it is, I then apply the correct amount of lighting and shadows to the color to give it depth, I also have determine the texture of skin, clothes and accessories to make everything look real and natural.

-Blending: I smooth out the shading and highlights so that it looks more natural and isn't too hard (noticeable difference between color) so that it looks as natural as possible.

-Finish: I go over last minute details, finish any editing or corrections that need to be done. Once it's good I call it a day.

Each process is longer in length then the previous, with the exception of the final editing (as long as everything looks good) and even the rough draft can take some time. Over all this is SEVERAL HOURS of work for a SINGLE DRAWING.

So is it sinking in yet? How much is put into doing even a single character drawing? God forbid if its done with background. This isn't a "scratch a pen around and be done with it in ten minutes" kinda deal, no, this is SEVERAL HOURS OF SOMEONES LIFE BEING PUT INTO THIS

And if you still have the AUDACITY to try and wrangle free art from an artist then there's no helping you, you're just a selfish piece of shit, no question and I want nothing to do with you.

Someone might say "But I got free art/writing from.-" look I don't give a shit if someone did something for you THAT ONE TIME, these other artists and writers? Totally seperate and different people. You're one freebie experience does not, and should not apply to other artists and writers.

"But what if I really want this commission but don't have the money right now?" Well, that's tough shit. Save up and properly commission them when you can, it's not their problem.

"But what if I'm in a really bad financial situation and really want it?" That sucks, and I'm sorry, but again, not their problem. Chances are this is their only source of income and they need to make money so that they don't end up in a similar situation.

"They have a gift! They should share it!" What kind of cheap ass- LOOK, just because someone is talented or really good at something does not automatically obligate them to do anything for total strangers in anyway shape or form. These are living, breathing people, the same as you. They need to eat, they need to pay rent/mortgages, they need to pay vet bills, send their kids to college, do their taxes and everything else that YOU YOURSELF need to do. Asking anyone to spend their time doing something for free, when that something is how THEY ARE SURVIVING is beyond asinine. Not only that, this obviously isn't a hobby to them, it is very clearly THEIR JOB. Would you want to do a job where you didn't get paid at all? Doing a shit ton of work for absolutely nothing? No? Didn't think so.

"It shouldn't be about the money!" Well unfortunately, as with almost every other job, it is. We live in a world where we desperately need to make money in order to survive. That's the painful fact of the matter. If money never had to be an issue ever again then this would be a very different story. But it's not, plain and simple as can be.

Look, these people are just like you, artists and writers who are just trying to get by in a shitty ass world, using the one thing they have that let's them have an income. Leave them be, don't try and trick them, guilt them, or cuss them out when you don't get your way. Either properly comission or leave them the hell alone, plain and simple.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 4)

A.n: Lol so things are about to get very Adult Themed up in here. Children do not read thank you. My consious demands it.

Warnings: Light smut, dark themes, mention of rape

Word Count: 4200+

MASTERLIST

Playlist

They shouldn't have been caught as soon as they were... and yet.

The second Jerome and Y/n had gotten outside the fun house, they'd been overrun by cops. The two had made it pretty far, but then someone had tackled Y/n from behind. The boy had been surprised when, from his spot on the ground, he heard Jerome's voice of all people scream his name. The redhead had paused, allowing another cop to take him down as well. Now they were being transported. Jerome, to Arkham, and Y/n just to regular jail. They hadn't determined him criminally insane yet, though it seemed to be going that direction as Y/n and Jerome spent the entire ride flirting with each other and cracking up at each other's jokes. They'd only quieted when each of the cops in the back with them held two guns to Y/n and Jerome respectively, threatening them. Jerome hadn't been that quiet or still for a while.

Y/n was the first to be escorted out of the back of the truck, arms handcuffed behind him. He was taken into GCPD offices, a smile on his face. One that promptly was wiped clean off when he was pushed inside and Jim Gordon stood waiting for him, Bruce and Alfred on either side of him.

Bruce moved first. He jogged to Y/n, a mixed expression on his face. The last time he'd seen Bruce, they'd been much different people. Y/n had left him behind to train with Penguin- no doubt Gordon had told him about the event, and surely he'd seen Y/n right at Oswald's side ever since. Until tonight, where Y/n had been found with Jerome- considered the worst of all the Gotham psychos.

Despite everything, Bruce seemed to be worried and relieved for the most part. The two boys stopped as they stood in front of each other. Bruce frowned, reaching up to touch his fingers to a wound on Y/n's forehead. It must have been from the tackle. Y/n hadn't noticed until now. "You're hurt." It wasn't a question so Y/n didn't respond back. Jim approached, motioning the officer that had Y/n to follow him. Y/n was pulled away and Bruce was left behind. Y/n ended up in an interrogation room, handcuffed and facing Bullock and Gordon. Y/n knew that Bruce was on the other side of the one sided glass, though, which meant that Alfred was too.

"Y/n," Gordon began. He seemed to pause, as if unsure how to continue.

So Y/n took his cue. "Why am I here? You have Jerome, so you can't be looking for information about him. If you want to determine my psyche and where I should end up, I mean I know I'm amazing but Jim Gordon and Commissioner Bullock? Here for little ol' me? I'm flattered, honestly." Both men looked at each other. It seems they didn't realize just how far lost Y/n was.

This tactic was new to Y/n, too. Oswald had taught him to be silent and unbreakable. Pleasant but unshakable. Like his dad used to be. Nice to talk to, leaving no option to backstab. It had been very different from how Y/n acted when he was just himself.

The cockiness and ease that Y/n exhibited now was a little mix of all the personas he'd most taken to or been taught over the years. There was the complete inhuman unaffectedness that had been taught to him by Angela, mixed with the ease that Oswald had taught him, the charisma he'd absorbed from Jerome in the short time they'd spent together, and his own energy he'd always been able to call on and struggled to hide. He felt like a new person again. A person he loved being.

"We're here because Bruce trusts us," Bullock said as the silence began to stretch. "You're in a safe place now, Y/n. You can talk to us. Tell us anything. Jerome is far away and can't hurt you. You can tell us what happened."

Oh. Y/n snorted. "You guys think Jerome kidnapped me and held me against my will or something?" Bullock cleared his throat. Y/n had always been told that he looked a lot like Bruce. He had differences, obviously, but as children people would try to get his attention thinking he was Bruce. Sometimes his mom would call him by his younger brother's name. Y/n realized it must be a little startling to see the actions he was displaying on a face so similar to his brother's, when Bruce was ever the staple good boy. Bruce would become a cop, if he didn't go into dad's business after all. Y/n would become... something else. It was becoming clearer as he grew older.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked. He was shaken, obviously upset and not quite able to grip the drastic difference in the Y/n he knew versus the boy in front of him.

Y/n rolled his head back, sighing. "A lot." He began bouncing a knee. "Do you want the whole life story?"

Jim crossed his arms. "I've got time."

Y/n chuckled softly. "I mean I have nothing to hide." He pushed his head forward, letting his eyes roam around the otherwise empty, bland room. He counted the cracks in the walls and memorized the paths they took as he spoke, keeping himself calm. This was a tactic he'd learned from therapy. "I mean I had a happy childhood. Parents have their favorites. Gotham had their favorite. Bruce was Mr. Perfect. But people liked me and I had parents who were supportive and loving or whatever, so there's that." He sighed again, closing his eyes. "Then they died. I got to take control of a company I wanted nothing to do with. And you know why?" Y/n opened his eyes, looking Jim directly in the eyes. "Because I was easy to manipulate. I was young and nieve and soft. Easy to bend and break and shape. It was easy to do whatever she wanted when it came from my mouth, because I was a Wayne."

"She?" Jim asked.

Y/n‘s jaw worked. "Angela. Angela Dyer." He swallowed, tasting bitterness in his mouth. "She was new to the business. Had worked there barely four years, which made her a newbie compared to the others who'd been working 20, 50, however some odd years. She was twenty years old. Not even old enough to drink. And she was pretty. Men aren't nice when they want something from a young, pretty girl. Especially in Gotham."

Jim shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "What does she have to do with you?"

"We were fast friends when I started being there. Close in age. Both new. The higher ups just wanted a Wayne present, but with her help I actually made a place for myself. Well-" he snorted. "A place for her. She moved up fast with my help. And all those men who used to walk all over her..." He shrugged. "I didn't ask questions about it."

Bullock's eyes widened."She killed them?"

"I think she just scared the shit out of them. Lots of threats, with me to back her up and hit the yes button when she needed. Manipulation. I think women are better at it than men, on average, but she was the best." His jaw locked and he took a few seconds to loosen it. "Pretty soon we were really close. Really close." He was looking at Bullock now. Training his gaze on the older man's. Drilling a message he didn't want to say. Bullock had gone inhumanly still. "She told me it was our little secret. That she just wanted to reward me after all our hard work."

"You were fourteen," He snapped, his hands curled into fists.

Y/n smiled. He actually smiled. "I didn't know what else to do. Boys don't have those problems. Or so I thought. She climbed the latter and taught me to keep my emotions bottled up. But I wasn't good at it. One day I yelled at her when she tried to... reward me that day." He swallowed. "I freaked out and asked her not to. She kissed me. Told me that she loved me and I loved her and it was okay because obviously I was enjoying it. Told me I couldn't be gay because-"

The room was heavy. "You're..."

"Yeah," Y/n croaked. "Only my parents knew. I haven't even told Alfred or Bruce, but I told her because I didn't want her to do it the first time. Or any other time. Tried to explain that I was gay and I didn't like it. She told me I couldn't be because my body was reacting to it, so obviously I was enjoying it." Y/n swallowed again. His mouth was getting dryer by the second. "One day I told her if she didn't stop I was going to tell someone. She told me that she loved me, like she always did. Except this time, she insisted that she needed me. That she couldn't handle just being friends with me. Told me she would kill herself if I broke up with her. As if we were dating-" His voice broke off, his eyes drilling holes into the wall.

Jim stepped forward. "She didn't-"

"She did." Y/n shook his head. "I thought it was my fault too for a long time, until finally Oswald convinced me otherwise." He shook his head. "I needed to get out of my childhood house. Away from Alfred and Bruce, who I couldn't even begin to explain to. Away from insanity and memories and near death experiences. So I went with Penguin, that night. He made me feel more powerful. More in control of my life. Helped me grow up and discover myself a little." Y/n grew quiet. "Did you know that the body has automatic responses to sexual actions that have nothing to do with pleasure? Me getting off had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I wanted her to-" He cut off. "Edward Nygma told me that one." His voice was weak and broken. He shrugged. "So there's your sob story, Gordon. That's what happened to me. Now if you'll either send me to jail or let me return to Oswald, that would be appreciated. You see that mayor of yours is kind of my best friend and he's going through a hard time- why are you looking at me like that?"

Gordon and Bullock seemed to be sick to their stomachs. "Y/n..."

"What?" Y/n demanded.

"Oswald has been missing since yesterday. No one's seen him since the interview he ran out on." Y/n went pale. "We'll get on it, I promise, but he's missing." Jim went to step forward to bring some comfort to the handcuffed boy who had obviously been through a lot for it to have all happened in just one day, but Y/n jerked away.

"What are you going to do with me?" Y/n barked. "Jail or release? I need to get out there and do your guys' job for you, and if I have to break out it might take some time."

Jim's eyes widened. "Y/n-"

"Jail or release, Gordon? Tell me. NOW!"

It was quiet for a second. "We're sending you to Arkham." Y/n's jaw went slack. "You've spent all night with Jerome, and you're a close associate with Penguin, who's a known murderer."

"You don't have any proof that I-"

Bullock was suddenly very close to Y/n's face. "Look me in the face and tell me you have never killed a man. That killing wasn't part of your little escape from jail plan? That if we release you you won't turn around and go after whatever the cause of Penguin's disappearance and kill them too? Tell me that you don't agree with the way Jerome thinks and does things. I'll let you go."

Y/n felt rage. Rage like nothing else. Like he hadn't felt in a long time. Oswald has taught him how to control and hone that red feeling that had once seized him. Usually he could cultivate it into a weapon. Now... now it was freely causing havoc inside him again and he wanted to scream. "You wanna play friend but then keep me from helping the people I care about." Y/n spit in his face, causing the older man to jerk away, wiping it off. "Fuck you, Bullock."

Bullock looked at Gordon. "He didn't say it."

Jim nodded his head. "I can't believe you tried to escape and attack Commissioner Gordon right in front of me, Y/n."

"What-?" And then Jim punched him in the face and everything went black.

When Y/n woke up, he was in a different room. Similar but obviously not the same. He sat up and looked down to see that he was in a prison jumpsuit, but it was black and white striped instead of orange. Fittingly, the room he was in was grey cement and bare, with a bed that he now lay on, another across from him, a small window slightly above him, and steel, black bars instead of a door. Was this Arkham? It wasn't as bad as Y/n had thought- at least as far as living conditions went. There didn't seem to be rats or bugs or leaking. He could get used to this.

The door opened. "Ah and how lucky for you to be awake just in time for lunch." It was an officer that Y/n didn't recognize. The man was much older and seemed to be annoyed even as he smiled. "You've been out for a whole day. Didn't think you were gonna make it." Y/n got the sense the guard was disappointed he had.

Standing silently, Y/n followed as the guard motioned him. He was unsure of how this place worked, so he moved tentatively. Calm but ready. Standing to his full height, eyes moving carefully as he stayed aware of his surroundings. His face was a sort of collected calm and he moved slowly at first, only speeding it up when the guard shoved something in his back. Probably a baton.

The two men ended up in a large room at the end of the hallway which was filled with tables that had benches attached to them. "This is the Big Room," the guard told Y/n lazily. "You eat here mostly, but you can go here for free time too, unless you want to stay in your cell." There was a door that lead into the Big Room. It opened loudly, causing every eye to be drawn to the two new people entering. "Good luck," the officer purred. "You seem like a calm one. They eat calm ones up in here." Then the officer stepped back and the door closed and Y/n was alone.

He looked around the room for an open seat, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again. He didn't have a clique. He didn't have somewhere to sit. He didn't know how this system of people worked. What if he sat with the wrong person and literally got murdered? Was there a chance the guards cared about the inmates enough to save their life? Y/n doubted it, if the guard from earlier was any indication.

Thoughts were cut off as an excited, "Y/N!" sounded. The called boy looked over to see red hair and a ginormous grin. Instantly Y/n switched gears, a smile of his own rising to his face. Jerome threw his arm over Y/n's shoulders. The Wayne boy tried not to get too giddy about the gesture as the redhead moved back to the table he must have been sitting at before Y/n came in. "You know I didn't think you'd end up in here too. Does that make you crazy after all?" He snorted, obviously amused by the idea of either of them being unsound of mind. Or maybe that was just another Jerome thing. Perhaps he just found insanity and instability funny.

"In the eyes of the people," Y/n answered.

Jerome tittered excitedly. "We're gonna have so much fun! They're so quiet and dull, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."

"You're a clever man, J." Y/n's voice was solid, even as his eyes were trained to Jerome and his smile was so wide it already hurt. "I'm sure you would have thought of something."

Someone scoffed. "Are you flirting with him?"

The man was big- both wide and tall- and bald. He looked scary, and also like an idiot. He had that simple minded vibe. Like he could hit, and that's all he could do. Not that it invalidated just how good he could hit though...

"What if I am?" Y/n met the man's eyes directly. He felt a surge of confidence with Jerome next to him.

Jerome hooked Y/n's chin as the men stared each other down. "Eyes on me now, doll." He winked and Y/n relaxed, smiling. "What are we gonna do first?"

Y/n rose an eyebrow, smirking in amusement. "What is there to do in a prison for the criminally insane?"

Jerome laughed. It suddenly cut off and the redhead was invading Y/n's space significantly. "Your imagination is the limit, really."

Y/n suddenly had a very active imagination. He cleared his throat but didn't move his gaze from Jerome, even though he wanted to. He could feel his face on fire and he wanted to shift away. Give himself space to breathe. It was very hot and it was becoming burdensome and annoying. Y/n had never once been this attracted to a single person. He'd had crushes- which is how he knew he was gay- but nothing serious. Nothing commanding and controlling. Why now, when he was most sure he never wanted to feel this way? Why here, when he was locked up and his best friend was missing after being betrayed by his love? Why now when Y/n should have been most against romance and most focused on finding Oswald and making sure his friend was okay, was he so smitten by this psychotic redhead?

Fuck it. Y/n wasn't getting out anytime soon- what was even the point of anything other than just giving in?

"I could think of a few things." Someone groaned, but Jerome's grin was enough to chase Y/n's shame away completely.

"Maybe I could pull off something special for you," Jerome mused. "Just once."

Looking away finally, Y/n sat down. "I heard it was lunchtime. Maybe we could start there." Jerome plopped down, eagerness unperturbed. If Y/n was being honest, his own enthusiasm was also unfazed. He didn't know what Jerome was thinking, but he was down for whatever. As long as it involved any single one of the things he was currently thinking about.

Y/n didn't expect Jerome to get it planned and done so soon.

It was dark and Y/n lay in his bed, looking at the ceiling. The guard had told him he'd be getting a roommate eventually when they were sure of how stable he was and how capable he would be and with who and blah blah blah blah blah-

For all their talk about safety, Y/n was only minority surprised to see the door open only to reveal Jerome Valeska strolling inside, the door closing behind him. "Miss me?"

Y/n grinned, chuckling softly as he rolled his eyes. "You're my cellmate?"

"The one and only." Jerome moved closer then seemed to hesitate and moved away instead. He went to the other bed, plopping down and crossing his legs before laying back, his hands behind his head and his smirk wide and charming. "You're quite interesting, Y/n. Are you aware?"

Y/n shrugged. "Not really."

Jerome narrowed his eyes, not smirking anymore. He obviously didn't like to be contradicted. "Why not?"

"People usually prefer my brother," Y/n explained casually, settling back down in his bed as Jerome had. When Jerome didn't speak up again, Y/n continued. "I guess he's more responsible and put together. He's gonna make it in the world, and it's nice to see such motivation in such a young lad." The last sentence he said each word with dripping sarcasm. "He's a genius and he's driven and I'm... Y/n Wayne. My parents were cool, don't get me wrong, but everyone's made it perfectly clear that Bruce has always been and always will be the preferred brother." Y/n looked over to Jerome smiling, only for it to drop upon seeing Jerome's expression. "What?"

Jerome stood. He moved with that same fluidity, except now it was very intimidating. Less like a showman and more like a predator stalking its prey, getting far too close for comfort. "I know what you mean. Younger brothers are the worst." His tone was dark now, and low. He lips turned up but it seemed in a sneer rather than enjoyment.

"You have a younger brother?" Y/n asked, sitting up in surprise.

Jerome's jaw worked. He looked at Y/n, moving close as he usually did. Invading Y/n's space as always. "Are you and Bruce twins?"

"I'm two years older," Y/n answered immediately. "Why?"

"Jeremiah and I are twins." He shook his head. "Now I'm bored. Entertain me, Y/n."

Y/n was suddenly breathless as Jerome lay down, spread out on Y/n's bed. Y/n swallowed, moving to hover over him. He usually topped, but this was Jerome Valeska. Y/n had thought... this would have gone differently, at least. "Undo the jumper," Jerome commanded evenly. Y/n obeyed, dragging the zipper down. Jerome kicked off the cheap shoes he was wearing as Y/n tugged the jumper down. Jerome lay in a muscle shirt and boxers. "Have you ever pleased someone else before?" Y/n nodded. "Men?" Y/n nodded again. While with Penguin, Y/n had had the pick of the litter. Anyone he wanted. He'd had a few, though they still didn't measure up to Jerome. "Consensual?"

Y/n swallowed. "I've had consensual sex with men before, yes."

Jerome rose an eyebrow, obviously sensing the bit of information Y/n was holding back. Thankfully he didn't push. Probably because he didn't want to damper the mood again. "Show me what you know, Sweetheart." So Y/n did.

Throughout the whole ordeal, every time Y/n did something Jerome didn't like, the older boy immediately corrected him. Y/n knew that what he was doing was good enough - he'd gotten people off plenty of times before - but Jerome seemed to be pushing Y/n's buttons. Being specific and picky and demanding. Seeing where Y/n's line was. How obedient he could be. There wasn't anything Y/n had refused to do thus far. Finally Jerome pressed his head back into the bed, his eyes closed and his lips parted. His fingers curled into Y/n's short hair and he spoke quietly, trying to not alert anyone outside who would stop them while trying to keep Y/n under control and finish at the same time.

Men were much easier than woman. It didn't take much to finish Jerome once he was there. He groaned very quietly, his breath hitching and his lower body pressing into Y/n's mouth more, where it had ended up. Y/n let him ride it out then swallowed, leaning back with a grin on his face.

"How was that?"

Jerome sat up, wiping something off the corner of Y/n's lip. He pressed his finger into Y/n's mouth, his smile widening when Y/n sucked it clean. "You're good. I expected you to be less experienced."

"I doubt I'm experienced as much as I'm a fast learner and really good at following directions." Jerome hummed before stretching then moving to redress. Y/n deflated. Jerome giggled when he saw Y/n's shoulder sag. "You want something too, hm?" Y/n swallowed, nodding. "Well, since you were a good boy..." Jerome motioned Y/n closer and the younger boy immediately stood. Y/n went to kiss him but Jerome jerked away. "None of that." His fingers found purchase resting around Y/n's throat. Not squeezing, but playing at the idea. "No distractions. I have to focus." He winked and forced Y/n to turn around, knocking the breath out of the dark haired boy's lungs.

Y/n had always known there was something almost intoxicating about Jerome. Addicting. His smile. The look he got in his eye- especially when he was horny, or when he was really into a joke. The way Jerome held Y/n or pushed or pulled him around. The raw charisma he had, that allowed him to grab a room and keep it completely under control. His easy attitude. His arms and hands and hair and lips. The way Jerome had demanded and kept Y/n's attention even when the boy was repressed due to trauma. Jerome was magic. He could do anything. He was good at everything. He was great at a few things too. Murder. Acting. Being true to himself. Carry out promises.

Fucking. Jerome was really good at that, too.

The boy was setting something off in Y/n and it seemed the more time passed, the less capable Y/n was of going back to the life he had, even just with Oswald. Everyone seemed so impossibly far, but suddenly Jerome was the only person that mattered. Y/n was falling and honestly, he didn't even care.

[michaelwalshblog-blog]

'I've seen the Promised Land': How a brush with death shaped Martin Luther King's message

Martin Luther King Jr. recovers from surgery in bed at New York’s Harlem Hospital following an operation to remove steel letter opener from his chest after being stabbed by a mentally disturbed woman, Sept. 21, 1958. (Photo: John Lent/AP)

Fifty years ago, on April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King Jr., who preached nonviolent resistance to oppression and war, was shot to death in Memphis. He was 39 years old. He left behind a wife and three children and a nation still riven by the divisions he had devoted his life to healing. Yahoo News takes a look back at his life and his legacy in this special report. Jonathan Darman assesses King as a man not without flaws, but with a passion for justice and a conviction that grace can still be found here among us sinners on earth. Senior Editor Jerry Adler looks back on the fateful last year of King’s life, beginning with his electrifying, and controversial, Riverside Church address against the war in Vietnam. National Correspondent Holly Bailey goes back to Selma, Ala., whose poverty moved King to increasingly turn his focus to economic justice, and finds not much has changed in the years since. Reporter Michael Walsh looks at how King almost died in an attack a decade earlier, and how the knowledge of his mortality shaped his ministry and message.

A half-century ago, Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination by James Earl Ray, a virulent racist with a criminal past, robbed the civil rights movement of its brightest luminary. But another attempt on King’s life, had it been successful, would have stolen even more.

In September 1958, Izola Ware Curry, a deranged African-American woman from Georgia, stabbed King with a letter opener while he was signing copies of his book “Stride Toward Freedom” at Blumstein’s department store in Harlem. King later said that the tip struck his aorta, and that his entire chest had to be opened to extract it. If he had sneezed, doctors told him, his aorta could have ruptured, drowning him in his own blood. Fortunately, King did not sneeze.

If he had died then, America would have missed his presence for the eventful decade that followed, including the Freedom Rides, the “I Have a Dream” speech, the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Selma marches.

Stanford University historian Clayborne Carson, who was selected by Coretta Scott King to edit and publish her late husband’s papers, said King was well aware that his career would open him to threats against his life.

“He was always aware of his mortality, and that just brought it home,” Carson told Yahoo News.

“His home had been bombed before that. He’d been threatened on numerous occasions. He had that experience in Montgomery where he actually considered leaving the movement because of all the threats, not just against himself, but his family.”

Martin Luther King Jr. urges calm from the porch of his home, which was damaged by a bomb during a boycott of the Montgomery, Ala.., bus system to protect segregation in 1956.  With him, left to right, are: Fire Chief R.L. Lampley; Mayor W.A. Gayle (in uniform) and City Police Commissioner Clyde Sellers. (Photo: Bettmann/Getty Images)

King had said, before that occasion, that God gave him the courage to continue at a time when he considered stepping down as leader of the movement. In January 1957, he told his congregation at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Ala., that a voice spoke to him on a sleepless morning one year earlier — compelling him to preach the Gospel and stand for truth and righteousness.

“Since that morning I can stand up without fear. So, I’m not afraid of anybody this morning,” King said. “Tell Montgomery they can keep shooting and I’m going to stand up to them. Tell Montgomery they can keep bombing and I’m going to stand up to them.”

So why did a black woman from the American South, a person for whom King put his life on the line, want him dead?

Curry, who grew up outside Adrian, Ga., harbored paranoid delusions about the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). She reportedly wrote unhinged letters to the Federal Bureau of Investigation claiming it was a Communist front that was actively trailing her. She blamed the NAACP — rather than her deteriorating mental state and unsettling behavior — for sabotaging her attempts to find steady employment. Her paranoia shifted to King as he rose to prominence during the Montgomery bus boycott of 1955 and 1956.

“First of all, she was crazy. She spent the rest of her life in a mental institution,” Carson explained. “But to the extent that there was any rationale, she heard black nationalist harangues against King, that he was a Communist. All the combinations of things that might appeal to someone who was mentally unbalanced to begin with.”

A grand jury indicted Curry for attempted murder, but a psychiatrist determined that she suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and had an extremely low I.Q. She was committed to a mental hospital for the criminally insane and spent the rest of her life in psychiatric hospitals and nursing homes.

Nowadays, the Curry incident is mostly remembered for its retelling in King’s final speech: “I Have Been to the Mountaintop,” delivered in Memphis, Tenn., on April 3, 1968 — a day before his murder. He explained how a “demented black woman,” not referring to Curry by name, attacked him, and he described the outpouring of supportive letters he received in the hospital. He didn’t remember what President Eisenhower or New York Gov. Averill Harriman had written, he said, but he would never forgot the letter from a ninth-grade student at White Plains High School in Westchester County, N.Y.

Izola Ware Curry is arrested for stabbing Martin Luther King Jr. with a letter opener at a department store in Harlem while he was there for a book signing, on Sept. 20, 1958. (Photo: Pat Candido/NY Daily News via Getty Images)

“While it should not matter, I would like to mention that I’m a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune and of your suffering,” she wrote. “And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. And I’m simply writing you to say that I’m so happy that you didn’t sneeze.”

“And I want to say tonight,” King went on, “I want to say tonight that I, too, am happy that I didn’t sneeze.” This little girl’s letter provided the “if I had sneezed” refrain that King used to revisit the many accomplishments of the movement, before predicting that he may soon die but that “the Promised Land” was in sight.

“I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over, and I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land!”

In the decade between Curry’s assassination attempt and that speech, King persevered through cross burnings, bomb scares and a shotgun blast into his home. One day after that speech, King was shot dead on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel. Fifty years later, his message is still relevant, but his mission isn’t complete.

According to Carson, King mentioned his mortality on numerous occasions, but this reference is remembered because it was included in a great speech, which starts off with King revisiting the meaning of his life, a more common theme in his late speeches. Carson said the importance of King not reaching the Promised Land has less to do with the possibility of an early death than that he might never see his dreams fulfilled — whether or not he reached old age.

“Even if he lived he wouldn’t get there, because his goals were much broader than just civil rights reform. I think it’s very significant that in a 1952 letter to Coretta he pledges that his ministry will be about a warless world, a better distribution of wealth and a brotherhood that transcends race or color,” Carson said. “When you think about those three goals, those haven’t been achieved. He certainly hadn’t ended war or poverty or brought about the kind of broad community that he had talked about all his life.”

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., with his mother, Alberta Williams King, and his wife, Coretta Scott King, visiting King in Harlem Hospital as he recovers from a stabbing. (Photo: Al Pucci/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images)

On March 3, 1968, a month before his death, King delivered the lesser-known “Unfulfilled Dreams” speech at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, Ga. He mused about why he had fallen short of reaching some of his aspirations and compared himself to the Biblical King David, who never got to see the Temple he started to construct. King described life as a “continual story of shattered dreams” but praised God for giving humans meaningful objectives into which they can pour their hearts.

“And so often as you set out to build the temple of peace you are left lonesome. You are left discouraged. You are left bewildered,” King said. “Well, that is the story of life. And the thing that makes me happy is that I can hear a voice crying through the vista of time, saying, ‘It may not come today or it may not come tomorrow, but it is well that it is within thine heart. It’s well that you are trying.’ You may not see it. The dream may not be fulfilled, but it’s just good that you have a desire to bring it into reality. It’s well that it’s in thine heart.”

And as King focused on being a virtuous man, powerful people were plotting to destroy him. FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover harbored a deep hatred for King and thought he was influenced by Communists. In late 1964, the FBI anonymously sent a package to King that included a tape that allegedly contained audio from one of his trysts and a letter threatening to defame King by publicizing his infidelities if he didn’t do “the only thing left for you to do.” King understood this as encouraging him to commit suicide.

Jonathan Rieder, a professor of sociology at Barnard College, Columbia University, is the author of “Gospel of Freedom: Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Letter from Birmingham Jail and the Struggle That Changed a Nation” and “The Word of the Lord Is Upon Me: The Righteous Performance of Martin Luther King, Jr.” He said King had to come to terms with the possibility of his own death early on and helped others in the movement do the same thing. King conceived of this “sacrificial burden” as part of the price of making the U.S. a truly democratic nation.

“This was a sacrificial endeavor that he was engaged in, and he would often therefore identify with Jesus,” Rieder told Yahoo News. “His decision to go to jail in Birmingham in 1963 was, in a sense, an awareness that like his savior some would have to die and go to jail so that others could live. It’s a central theme of the Christian part of the civil rights movement.”

Living so closely with death, Rieder continued, King developed a wide repertoire of talks on the subject — ranging from hilarious and jokey to morbid and despondent. When King decided to lead demonstrations in Birmingham, Ala., where Bull Connor harshly enforced segregation, King met with a small group of his colleagues to warn them that they may be killed, according to Rieder.

“And then he would joke about it. He would say, ‘Now y’all think the Klan is going to get me? You will jump in front of the camera and they will get you,” Rieder said. “But I will preach the best funeral you ever had.’ Then he would go around and pick on some little foible or problem with each of his colleagues and do a hilarious funeral about them.”

Andrew Young, a close friend of King’s and the executive director of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, once told Rieder that this mixture of solemnity and lightheartedness was King’s way of teaching them to accept the possibility of their death.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. makes his last public appearance at the Mason Temple in Memphis, Tenn., on April 3, 1968. The following day King was assassinated on his motel balcony. (Photo: Charles Kelly/AP)

America would have been the worse for it, but King would have had a much easier life had he not dedicated his life to the civil rights movement. After assuming the mantle of the fight for racial integration, King was vilified by white racists, ridiculed by black nationalists, monitored by the FBI, arrested, threatened, attacked and ultimately murdered — all without, from his perspective, having his dreams come to fruition.

But in “Unfulfilled Dreams,” King concluded that God judges individuals on the “total bent of our lives” rather than “separate mistakes” because he knows his children are weak. Therefore, he said, it’s imperative to get your heart right and keep building your metaphorical temple — regardless of whether it will be finished.

“Salvation is being on the right road, not having reached a destination.”

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