#really need to force myself to speak when I'm checking in or paying for stuff

[perfectblve]

got lost looking for the hotel, finally found it, its 3.30pm, check in is from 3pm, my room isn't ready help

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"Andy, I'm on my way to work," you say, almost breathless as you charge across the parking lot, "you know, I gotta pay my rent, my water, my electric--"

"Not that easy, is it?" He sneers.

"Excuse me!" You bluster, barely dodging a car as you go to cross to the sidewalk embankment in front of the store, "how dare you--"

"I did you a favour. Accept it. You needed to grow up, be out on your own--"

"Why the fuck did you even call?!" You throw your hand out as you pace along the window of the store. Only he can get you like this. Good riddance, it really is a favour.

"My mom's party--"

"Oh, fuck off. I don't have time for that. I'm working overtime trying to scrape by because you gave me nothing, Andrew! You took everything and gave nothing!"

You tear the phone from your ear and hit your finger against the screen. End call. Bastard. He has you all worked up before a twelve. Probably exactly what he wanted.

You stop and force yourself to catch your breath. You can't walk in like this. You're close to tears. You don't even realise until your nose tingles and you feel the sheen threatening to spill over. You cover your face and huff.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?"

You don't move at first, hoping the voice is talking to someone else. It's too familiar. You slowly drop your hands and look at Jonathan. He must have quite the library if he's here so often. You swallow.

"Yeah, yeah," you like. You are not okay. You wasted twenty years on a man who never loved you. "I'm just about to get started."

You force a smile, cheek twitching as it bulbs. You turn to peek over your shoulder at the purple logos behind the glass. Thank god the barriers hide you from view.

"Ah, well then, shall we go in together? I'm just headed in myself."

"Uh, sure," you nod and drop your purse from your elbow to your hand, stuffing your phone inside. "Thanks."

"Allow me," he rushes ahead of you to the doors, "darling."

He gestures you in first. You precede him, hiding the chagrin that tugs at your forced smile. You see Heather, another trainee, and give her a small wave. She's behind the till doing her morning half-shift before classes.

"Well, uh, I should go put my stuff in the hub," you say over your shoulder, "I have to clock in for the--"

"Mr. Pine," Marcia, the morning manager appears from the Best Sellers display, "how are you?"

"Oh, hello," he greets her brightly, "just another check-in. Holidays are fast approaching. Any word on the truck?"

"Not yet but we're scheduling for it's arrival--"

Your head turns buzzy as you short-circuit. Pine. As in Pine Shelves, the story. He's not a customer at all, he's your goddamn boss. Oh god, as if the day couldn't get worse.

"Pardon, we'll discuss that later," Jonathan tells Marcia, "I was just speaking with this lovely employee. Always so helpful. I see training is going well."

"Ah, she's one of Giselle's, but thank you, sir."

He nods and she takes her cue. She retreats as he faces you. You can't speak. You're stupid with shock and embarrassment.

"I hate to make you late," he grins handsomely, "I wanted to tell you though that my sister loves the bookmark, no word on the book yet."

"Your sister?" You blink.

"Ah, yes, she had a birthday recently," he explains, "I must thank you for your suggestions."

You nod, fighting back the blaze behind your eyes, "no problem, Mr. Pine."

"Oh, dear, Jonathan suits me fine," he fixes his pocket square.

"Alright, um, sorry, I..." you look pointedly at the clock, "can't leave them hanging... sir."

"Hard worker," he praises, "as you will."

He stays as he is as you back away. You spin, nearly walking into the shelf of pens that stands centre of the wide aisle. You quickly skirt around it and scurry into the forest of paperbacks and hardcovers.

You get it. It was all a test. You just hope you past. Certainly, you will know once your probationary period is up. For now, you'll just painstakingly agonize over every word you said to the man.

💙

Your shift finally ends but brings with it little celebration. There is no relief in going home to an empty apartment. The rush of customers kept your mind off of the disaster of your life and now you have nothing to keep you from facing the mess.

You cross the lot, checking the time on your phone as you head for the stop right at the edge of the road. You see the orange letters of the bus banner approach. Shit, it's early.

You break into a run. Oof, you're a bit old for this. As you get to the curb, you're left in a fog of exhaust. The driver doesn't see you as he pulls away and you curse at the moonlight. Of course.

You deflate and fall onto the bench. Your feet hurt, your hips hurt, your back, neck and shoulders. Forty minutes for another bus or you could walk down twenty minutes and catch the connection.

You don't know which is better. Once more, indecisive to a fault. You lean forward and cradle your head. You can't even afford an uber or taxi home. You're better off walking for two hours.

So that's what you'll do. You get up and drag your feet down the unmaintained and crumbling sidewalk. You get to the large intersection and wade through the chaos of lights and impatient drivers.

On the other side, you head towards the light of the Walmart with several stops outside. It will at least be safer than standing in pitch black. As you come up to the edge of the large shopping plaza, a pair of headlights flash over you. On, off, then on again. Then a short toot.

You squint at the sleek black paint and the interior light flicks on. Oh god. You cringe as you make eye contact with Jonathan and he gives a small wave.

Just what you need.

He rolls down his window and sticks his head out, "need a lift?"

You shake your head, "my bus is coming." You point over him.

"Bus? Darling, I insist." You hear the locks slide back, "do get in."

You stare, a deer in actual headlights. You can't afford a taxi, so you sure as shit can't afford to tell your boss no.

[goodoldbus]

World Autism Day was 3 days ago. It was my first one spent knowing I'm autistic. I'd like to say it "hits different" but really, the day was like any other and I didn't pay it much mind. But I do want to use it as an excuse to comment a little about what my autism has meant to me. To be absolutely autistic about it, I have to clarify that I am not formally diagnosed nor do I plan on seeking one out. Whether through genetic roulette or the dulling effect of complex trauma, my sensory needs are not such that I'm dysfunctional. My case is mild, or I'm "high functioning," or I JUST have Aspberger's, or something like that.

Autism is typically depicted as a struggle for everyone involved (except the autistic person, who is just seen as a force of chaos that must be contained). That's certainly how I remember a lot of my childhood and young adulthood. There is something to be said about getting yourself into enough trouble that you straighten up and fly right. I guess that's what I did, eventually. To me, my autism has felt like an overwhelming conviction at a core level that I don't seem to experience reality the same way as everyone else.

Scientifically speaking that's true, of course. I now know my brain has trouble separating noise from context. Neurotypical people walk into a crowded room, immediately look for the people they feel most connected to, and everything else drops away. I... can't do that. EVERYTHING is relevant to me - the size and shape of the room, the colors, the smells. I want to scan every face and consider it to whatever extent I feel I need to at that moment.

And of course there's the noise. Oh god, the noise. I spent 15 years of my life thinking I somehow destroyed my ears MORE than any of my friends who were right there with me playing loud, sonically overwhelming music and are still at it. But somehow my habit of overhearing anything and everything will have my wife calling me "eagle ear." Ever get lost listening to the symphony of a quiet house, as all the stray creaks and street noises and electricity blend into glorious overtones and incomplete melodies? 'Cause I just call that bedtime.

I figured much of this out for myself when I started working as a therapist. Sounds like a nightmare for an autistic, right? Except I get to meet with people one on one in a softly lit, quiet room and get to be as curious as possible (the DREAM). Maybe this was the moment when things started to line up for me? I think it's when I got the chance to meet with so many different people in moments of extreme emotional vulnerability that I started realizing, "ohhh shit I'm different-different."

There have been some moments of fear and certainly plenty internalized ableism as all the myths and stereotypes about autistic people pop in and out of my head. But as I've learned more about the condition and accepted how it presents in me, all of that falls away like a cocoon to reveal my overwhelming JOY at liberation. For the first time in my life, I'm truly ok with my infodumping, my arm flailing, my time distortion, my clothing rotations, my grabbing on to stray insignificant details and bringing them up until whatever itch about them is sufficiently scratched.

This acceptance has led to a renewed interest in myself. Knowing to respond to what I now know as sensory overwhelm by checking in with the rawest see-hear-touch-taste-smell stuff, I've uncovered a whole new way of appreciating the world and my relationship with it. It's given me one of my best therapy tools as I discover that "evidence-based practice" doesn't seem too worried about how much it DOESN'T know. It's also reinforced one of my core therapeutic values: that people are the world's greatest and only experts in their own lived experience and that good therapy begins by humbling ourselves to this expertise.

I'm continually on this journey learning more. Inevitably that involves trying on and discarding labels that don't seem to fit in the end. It may generate eyerolls or catty comments or worse, but the cost of worrying about that is no longer worthwhile to me. Things are fundamentally making SENSE in a way they never have before. I feel like I can TRUST myself genuinely, like I'm not at war with my instincts. Even were I to wake up tomorrow and decide this was all just ridiculous and I'm a plain ole garden variety nerd after all, I know I would still have this new confidence that I will protect and fight for with all the resentment of someone who had to build an Empire State Building of self esteem from popsicle sticks and bubble gum.

As autistic self-identity and self-diagnosis grows and develops, it's also inevitable that people will be threatened. Labels prop up hierarchies, industries, entire systems of systems that rely on the effectiveness of the label as an anchor. More personally, they give people on both sides of the label peace of mind over the clarity it provides in a very unclear world. I'm not unsympathetic to that. I'm asking that before people jump to assuming radical autistics are seeking dominion and revenge that they express some curiosity about our experience. The fact that most autistic life means navigating literal extreme physical pain should be enough.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Heuj valves, you know what I'm here for, go on. Make us a story dolly >:)

-cursed

Okay, in case you guys haven’t been around for like, the past day or two, let me explain. This is involving Bill Sykes, the villain of the movie ‘Oliver and Company’. Cursed came out of nowhere, showed me this man, and he has LITERALLY kept me up all night last night. I’m tired, majorly horny, and I hate this big, BIG man so much. Let’s go. (Also side note first attempt writing him, I'm trying)

Money. Money was a thing that made the world go round. It was something everyone wanted, something everyone would fight tooth and nail to get. Some people had nothing, and some had far too much. Like Sykes. Sykes had so much money, through brute force, through cunning, through anything and everything unsavory. And with so much money, came with the ability to have SO much power, of which he abused. If he wasn’t taunting people with how much money he had, he was luring more people in with his classic charm. As evil as he was, no one really seemed to see it at the beginning. They saw an older, rather likeable man. It was why no one blinked twice when he walked into the clothes store. If anything, he was welcomed, especially by the man behind the counter.

“Mr.Sykes! Just on time! Ever the punctual man! I got your new suit in!”

“Good, good. You’re one of the few in this city that DOESN’T disappoint me.”

“I should hope not, you’re my best customer! Speaking of, can I be daring enough to offer you a new set of shoes?”

“Wasn’t looking for a new pair, but what the hell.”

Sykes let him be walked to the counter. He JUST so happened to be on the counter next to some lady. Pretty thing, honestly. She somehow didn’t notice him, and pushed a handbag across the counter.

“Hey, I didn’t see a tag on this. Can you check it for me?”

This lady didn’t belong here. This was a real ‘if you had to ask, you can’t afford it’ kinda place. The guy behind the counter gave her a look, before glancing at the bag.

“Twenty nine fifty, miss.”

“Only thirty bucks? Okay-”

She went to dig into her current purse, before he cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, no. I’m saying it's two thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Ah. So when do I get the bull?”

“Pardon?”

“The bull. The one who's giving me this fresh batch of shit."

Sykes had to give her one thing, she had a mouth on her. Sykes sensed a fight, and decided to turn that into his favor.

“Hey, let me pay for the lady here.”

She looked at him, seeming to just now notice his presence. She was reasonably suspicious, and seemed to almost snarl at him.

“I don’t do freebies.”

“Not a freebie. Just thought a pretty lady should have pretty things. If you don’t want it, fine, won’t push it. Really, it’s on me.”

She hesitated, before seeming to put her guard down, pushing the purse back across the counter. He chuckled, swiping his card. This is how you brought the pretty ones in. Buy them something nice and shiny, show them you were a sweet guy. He grabbed his things, and stepped outside with her. She was staring at her purse in fascination, before turning to look at him.

“Thanks a bunch, by the way. Didn’t catch your name.”

“Sykes. Bill Sykes.”

He held his hand out to her, and she accepted the handshake. He took the chance to give her another look over, and realized; yeah. She was worth trapping. He threw his stuff into the car, before turning to look in her direction.

“You have plans for lunch?”

“No, why?”

“Feelin’ generous today. Assuming you can spare me some company.”

She looked hesitant, studying him and his ride. If he wasn’t rich, it would’ve been ‘hell no’. But she was, like many, allured by his obvious, flagrant weath.

“I mean...yeah, sure. Why not?”

Little did she know, she was digging the hole deeper and deeper.

-------------------------------------------

It had gotten WAY later into the night than he planned. He had meant to only spare an hour or so, but he found himself taking well into sunset. By the time they left the place, she was hooked, lined, and sinker, laughing and holding onto his arm as they walked back to his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, motioning for her to hop in.

“You want a ride back to your place? You DID have a bit to drink.”

She nodded, getting inside, practically giddy.

“Yeah, I can tell you how to get there, I think.”

“Good, good.”

He shut the door after her, and hopped in himself. He put on his seatbelt, and lit up a cigar. He hadn’t had a good smoke all day, and it felt good to finally get one in. He let her guide him to her house, and made a mental note of just where she lived. The drive was but a simple action, but it was a clever, discreet way of knowing just where to find her. He stopped right in front of her place, put the car in park, and exhaled the smoke into the car’s interior.

“You know, you put me in a real, real good mood. How about I do the same for you?”

She looked at him, confused, before he pulled out his wallet, and brought out a good chunk of cash. THAT sobered her up. Her first instinct was to clearly reach for it, but she stopped herself.

"What...is this for?"

"Spending money. Something for you to play around with, invest in stuff, whatever ya want."

"That’s...lots of money. A...LOT of money. You just carry that with you? You don’t think you’ll get mugged or something?”

“That doesn’t happen. Trust me on that.”

He chuckled. There were attempts, MANY attempts in fact, but...well. Didn’t end well, let’s keep it at that. She looked down at the stack, and he knew she was so close to being in his web. Just one movement of the hand. One moment of indulgence. And she fell for it. She took it from his hand, and counted it in her hand. The more she counted, the more lost she seemed to get, clearly in disbelief.

“Twenty five...t-thousand. That’s seriously how much this is?”

“Right on the dot. Now go on, get outta here. Sure I’ll bump into ya again, Doll.”

When she helped herself out of the car, he chuckled, and pulled out of the driveway. Soon enough made it home, where Roscoe and Desoto looked up at him, clearly wondering where he had been. It WAS a bit past their usual treat time. Fishing some out of his pockets, he tossed them towards his eagerly awaiting pups. He sighed as he sat down at his chair, leaning back a bit, and blowing rolls of smoke into the air.

“You boys ain’t gonna believe today’s catch. A real cute thing, you have no idea. Imma give her the usual week. Desoto.”

He snapped his fingers, and the mutt obeyed promptly, getting out of bed and sitting at his side. He allowed Sykes to run his big, firm hands through his fur, and thumbs rubbing at the tips of his ears. His master seemed VERY pleased by his new catch today, he almost never got special pets like this.

“You guys are gonna love her. Because If I don’t get a bite out of her, you two will.”

--------------------------------------------------------

He waited in his car, headlights off as he awaited her to return from work. He decided to take all this time to get back to some calls, rather than just sit here with his thumbs up his ass. 

“No. No. Swear to god ya bunch of morons- no. Take the teeth out BEFORE ya dump him. So what if he screams? Well ya in the warehouse right? Aight, ya gonna be fine then.”

His associate kept talking on the other line, but Sykes didn’t listen. He was too distracted by his hounds in the back, who were now fully sitting up and looking out the window. His dogs were a pain, but at least they were smart.

“Yeah listen, imma call ya back. Figure it out.”

He then saw her. She was even carrying the same purse he bought her. He waited till she went to her front door, before turning on the headlights, nearly blinding the poor thing. He stepped out of the car, hands out as if he was being welcoming.

“Aye, there ya are doll! Been a while!”

She seemed confused for a minute, but as he stepped closer, it clicked.

“Sykes, right?”

“Yeah, knew ya wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t forget ya in the slightest.”

He walked up to her, and leaned against the door, pinning her between a rock and a hard place. She shrunk a bit, before looking down at the floor. She had dropped her keys. Just before she could make the motion to reach for them, he covered it with the bottom of his shoe. He leaned down, blowing plumes of smoke into her face, making tears swell in her eyes.

“So, where’s my payment?”

“Payment?”

Of course she was confused. They always were. As if money was free in this world. He let the cigar roll in his mouth, before nodding.

“Yeah, my payment. You took a loan from me, doll. I need it back.”

“I didn’t know that was a loan! You didn’t say-”

“Little girl, nothing in this world is free, money included. Now, where is it? If you got it upstairs, I’ll go with ya to get it.”

Her little eyes looked so frantic under his gaze. He just needed to hear those words. Words that from any other mouth, would make him a very unhappy man.

“I...don’t have that kinda money.”

That was all he needed. He grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her to follow. She would’ve made a dash for her keys, had Roscoe not nipped at her heel, forcing her to back away. Turns out two barking dogs made for quite the deterrent. Sure, she struggled, screaming as his hand slapped over her mouth, but that didn’t matter. He managed to pull her away, and nearly threw her into the car. Desoto was a good boy, using those big, pearly whites to keep her there in pure fear.

“Roscoe, fetch.”

Roscoe went for the door, grabbed the keys, and placed them into his master’s hand.

“Good boy. Now get in.”

He waited till his other pup jumped into the back, before he went to the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of her scared little eyes. Yep. She was already worth every penny.

----------------------------------------------

“Don’t look at me like I’m a bad guy, sweetheart. You understand, ain’t nothing free. I fancy myself a good guy, but not good enough to just hand out money like that.”

Roscoe and Desoto circled her like vultures. She didn't even NEED to be tied up like this, he just liked the assurance, and the view. Like a little doe, she was still, powerless, and scared.

"I didn't know-"

"What you don't know, CAN kill you. I'm sorry, I know it ain't fair. But life is like that. Fortunately for you, I'm a very compassionate man. We can discuss methods of payment. Any family money?"

She shook her head, seeming to be a BIT distracted by Roscoe's sharp teeth. He gave a sharp inhale, shaking his head.

"Clearly YOU don't have the money, right? No 'under the sofa' cash?"

Another shake of her head. His fingers tapped against his table, shaking his head in clear disappointment. 

"Oh. I REALLY don't like your options now, Doll. Ya got two choices."

She squirmed a bit, stiffening as Desoto's teeth bared against her. He lifted his hands up a bit, and snapped his fingers. Roscoe followed the command, and dashed right for her, barking and frothing at the mouth. The weight of his body sent her falling, with the chair slamming onto the floor. He pinned her down, barking and covering her face in drool, teeth BARELY missing her own skin. 

Oh how she screamed. How she begged for mercy. How her legs thrashed as she tried in vain to get away. He let her sit there until he was certain there were tears in her eyes. Then he stood up, and slowly walked over to her, heavy footsteps clanking against the hard floor below them. He snapped his fingers, and Roscoe heeled, taking a seat next to his fellow fido. He squatted down to her level, blowing smoke into her already irritated face. He liked crybabies.

"That's option one. I'm assuming you don't want that."

She shook her head, sniffing. He rolled the cigar in his lips, before he lifted her face up with his hand, and pushed her chin down, forcing her mouth to open.

"Option two. You could provide me with a few...services. Then we can forget ALL about the pesky little debt you have with me. You're a pretty little thing, I'd be willing to let you work it off. I mean, you'd survive If I bit you, rather than my boys here. Not to mention if you're sweet 'nuff, I'll un do those pesky ropes of yours."

She clearly thought about it, but her mind was foggy, her eyes hurt, even her lungs felt sore from the second hand smoke. But, just as he suspected, she nodded. A huge grin came over his face, and he held onto the chair, pulling her off the floor.

"Alright sweetheart, let's EARN your freedom here. Open that pretty mouth for me."

He held onto her face as he pulled in, pushing that thick, rich smoke right into her mouth. All while his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing against hers. He took his time, getting a good, firm kiss out of her. He only pulled away when he needed to breathe. She needed it too, starting to fall into a coughing fit. It was cute. He put out his cigar on the ashtray, letting it sit there.

"Mm. You taste good. Damn good."

He undid his belt buckle, and whipped himself out. He turned her face at him, but with a bit of a...heavy hand, he pressed his cock against her face.

It was precious, watching such an innocent face under his thick cock. She whined a bit as he pushed her face into him, nearly smothering her with not only his dick, but his hairy, hairy balls.

"Open up for me Doll, nice and sweet. And don't you bite me. You'll regret it, trust me."

This time she seemed fairly willing, opening her mouth with not much more than a wince. He grabbed onto that pretty, pretty hair of hers, and pulled, really shoving her onto him.

"Oh that's the ticket, honey. Right there. Can feel that little tongue of yours."

He pushed himself fully, and held himself there, till he felt her gag, just like a good girl. He pulled away, watching her pant, lips covered in her own drool, and chest heaving. She was about to speak, before he shoved his balls right into her mouth, head tossed back in content. When was the last time he had his balls sucked by a cute, willing (somewhat anyway) little thing like her? He kept his fat, firm fingers in between her hair, really making a mess of it. Beautiful, poised girls were all swell, but cute, messy girls were such fun playthings. He granted her a bit of mercy, pulling away, while still pumping his cock.

"Mmm. You're a good little girl, ain't ya? Pretty too. I was gonna really put you through the ringer, but you're too damn precious NOT to be opened."

Not needing any scissors, he yanked at the ropes, making them snap under the force of his grip. He lifted her off of the seat, putting her on his desk, and using his big, strong hands to part those nice looking legs of hers. She was clearly hesitant, being felt up by essentially a stranger, but he didn’t care. Long as she didn't fight him, he could give less of a damn. He tore off her skirt, and took a gander of her panties. It was hot, knowing those lacey undergarments were paid for by HIM.

"Cute set here, Doll. Real, real cute stuff."

He took a hold of her ass, and pulled her closer to him, pressing himself right against that nice, cute fabric. With his free hand, he tugged at her shirt. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he couldn't be a bit refined.

"Shirt, bra, off. Case you wanna keep your outfit in one piece."

He saw her hands tremble, as if she was confused. He gave another tug, and she seemed to finally get the hint, pulling her clothes off. She was worth the wait, honestly. Hell, he was so excited, he took his own shirt off, laying it as carefully as he could off to the side of the desk (it was hard to keep your shit neat when you wanted to be messy). He dug his fingers into her hair again, and yanked her into another kiss, this time really pressing himself against her. It wasn’t just their bank accounts that differed, it seemed. Where she was soft, helpless, he was firm, foreboding against her. He loomed over her, nearly suffocating her with not only his greedy lips, but his large, hairy, heavy frame. He pulled her away for a moment, ignoring the way she winced. He was pretty heavy handed, especially when it came to such a darling looking thing. He started to roll his hips into her, pushing his tip right against her clit. He liked the way she jumped every time, liked the way her toes seemed to curl. 

“You’re gonna handle me REAL well, girlie. I can tell. You’re really just a kitten, ain’t ya?”

His hand cupped at one of her breasts, kneading and pulling at the flesh. He was heavy handed with her, using enough force to make her wince. Not his fault she had a cute pair, with a face to match. He would sit there and play with them till they were nice and raw, but he wasn’t sure his cock would handle this much stalling. He hooked his finger into her underwear, and pulled them off. They were pretty much soaked, and something about that was just so charming to him. He let go of her hair, and groped her pussy, palming at her wet, warm folds. She held onto his hand, writhing under his firm grip. He pulled his hand away, letting her whimper as he checked out just how much she left on his hand. Needy little thing, it seemed. He slapped that hand over her mouth, and pushed himself right inside. You’d think he’d give her just the tip, get her used to his size.

You’d be wrong.

He pushed himself fully inside of her, balls deep, and watched her shake. Not that he blamed her. He was a big guy, afterall. He kept his hand over her mouth, despite how much she clawed at his hand. He held her like that, not moving a single muscle until she decided to settle down. He pulled his hand away, watching as her own drool (along with her own fluids) smeared over her delicate little mouth. She looked at the cock stuff inside of her, before looking at his face. He was expecting some kind of retort, some kind of insult, maybe even a slap to the face, stuff he was used to.

“You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

He opened his mouth to give her a life lesson (one he gave everyone when they barked that at him), when she suddenly flung herself at him, nearly smashing her lips against his own. That...was a first. But he was NOT complaining. He grabbed the back of her head, and returned the kiss with fervor, letting her moan right into his greedy, greedy mouth. Laying her right onto her back, he started to slam himself right into her. He had no idea how his desk supported his weight, especially when he was acting damn near belligerent on his new toy, but god was he glad it did. Especially since his new toy seemed just as excited as he was now, running her hands through his absolute mess of chest hair, and even locking her legs around him, as if she didn’t want him to leave. He parted the kiss, panting huskily against her lips. She moved not an inch, in either obedience, or the fact that his strong, fat hands were still holding the back of her head, as if he was scruffing a mutt.

“You’re taking me real nice, doll. You feel nice and tight, and you’re feeling me up like you actually like me.”

She didn’t seem to be focusing on his words for a moment, but rather keeping her focus on his big, hairy tummy. Not that he cared, he favored looking at her tits moving in sync with his thrusts. He favored watching the lewdness in her eyes, he favored knowing that her ravenous pussy leaked all over his desk. All of these he favored, over her actually meeting his eyes (Sykes wasn’t a real romance type, case you haven’t guessed). He let her continue her grubby little hands as he lowered his face right to the nape of her neck. He could tell that she liked hearing him talk, given the way she seemed to pull at his hair every time his breath brushed against her ear.

“It’s gonna feel so good when I cum right in you. You’re already handling me so good, you’re already gonna cum yourself. I can see it. I can see it plain as day, you wanna cum on my cock. Even if I’m a bad, bad guy, you want me doll. And that’s SO sweet of ya, really.”

He could tell she was trying to give him a bit of a fight. Just a little bit of one. She had such a mean little scowl about her, as if she refused to let him see her cum. Unfortunately for her, he always took what he wanted. And after just a few more thrusts, after taunting her with his sweet, sweet voice, and after grabbing her so tightly she bruised, she came. She shook something fierce as he fucked her right through it, relishing in her cries of ecstasy. He was used to screams. Screams of mercy, of pain, but hearing one from such a cute little dame cumming for him, it was just so refreshing. She pushed his face away, only to bury her teeth right into his big, meaty neck. Most bites tended to happen on his hand, so feeling it here was just something else. He didn’t have a chance in hell. With a swear under his lips, he came. He forced her to keep still, pumping cum right inside of her. Even as it trickled out of her, he didn’t seem to quit. He wasn’t timing it, but he knew he lasted a damn good minute before he finished.

“Shit.”

Was his only response. A simple, satisfied swear. One that helped ease all the tension in his poor, old body. His stomach rested on hers as he panted, ever so slowly calming down from a damn good high. She was quite a vision herself, covered in sweat and bruises. Pretty thing. She forced herself to swallow, before speaking, wearily.

“We uh...square, right?”

That made him laugh. He shook his head, leaning over to his discarded jacket, and pulling out a cigar. He lit it up, taking a good, deep inhale, right before looking down at her.

“Honey, that was a damn good fuck, really it was. But that was NOT worth twenty five thousand. You still got a bit of work ahead of ya, Doll.”

He watched her wince as he tapped his cigar, letting the ashes fall onto her exposed skin. Yep.

She was a keeper.

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x11 - Linger

Quick note: I am SO sorry at how painfully late this is. I wasn't able to watch on Monday night because the police helicopter decided to sit over my apartment yelling loud threats to peaceful protesters when the episode aired politics. And then I had late meetings for work Wed and Thurs. And weekend things. Excuses, excuses though. I will try to do better next week this week.

EPISODE SUMMARY:

SECRETS AND LIES -- Driven by the prospects of her scientific research, Liz (Jeanine Mason) opens up to Diego (guest star Cleo Anthony) about all the good her findings could do. Meanwhile, Max (Nathan Dean) enlists Kyle's (Michael Trevino) help getting to the bottom of the recent abductions, while Michael (Michael Vlamis) does his own investigating into Alex's disappearance. Elsewhere, after learning more about her mother Louise, Isobel (Lily Cowles) pays a visit to Rosa (Amber Midthunder), in hopes that Rosa could help her begin to heal. Franklin Vallette directed the episode written by Ariana Quiñónez & Deirdre Mangan.

DETAILS:

Liz and Diego flashback from Denver the night he proposed. The science:

"Administering a lethal dose of radiation to observe a particular neoblast… It's a regenerative master cell. The only one with this protein. I mean, this particular cell was able to multiply, diversify, and reanimate my worm."

"Wait, so observing the master gets you the underlying mechanisms of tissue regeneration."

"Then I apply the mechanism to human tissue, and irreversible injury and degradation become distant memory. I know this isn't going to happen in our lifetime, but this could be a step to help."

Diego proposed to Liz in the lab at nearly midnight. She didn't seem to see the proposal coming, but she also didn't hesitate to say yes.

A neoblast is a part of a worm. I was so disappointed. I thought it sounded like some badass science thing.

Um...everything Liz is talking about is REAL. Check this out!

Present time, both Max and Liz waking up by alarm after falling asleep working.  Liz's lab work we know a fair amount about and there's nothing specifically revealing about her wake up, but Max's is more interesting.  Max fell asleep, while writing alien symbols in his journal.  There's two empty vials of antidote in the box we saw last week (though we know he took one at the end of last week's episode.  There's also an empty bottle of acetone.

Max, Liz, and Isobel at the Crashdown. Isobel used her powers to get in and apparently immediately put on antennae and made coffee. 

Max immediately reacted when Liz said she was with Maria. Which, note that it is a little odd that Maria is out of town with Crash Con starting, given her pitch last episode and the relevance to her business. 

Now Liz is saying I love you to Isobel too. Once the floodgates open they really really open with her 

"Non-binary intimate companion" 😆

Butyricol has apparently only been used in one highly classified military trial.  What's interesting about that detail to me is that if it's highly classified, how do we know that? All Diego told us last week was that it was only approved for military use.  In order to know that it was only used in one military trial, you'd have to know the details of the military use which, if it's highly classified, would be nearly impossible to get your hands on - even for a senator's son.  IMO, this is probably a bit of a plot screw up/narrative leap.

Liz references Charlie's bioweaponry expertise. Which we, the audience, know about from 2x04, but we didn't actually see Charlie explain any of that to Max and Liz...all she said in 2x08 was "a lot of people want to know what I know."

We are reminded that Alex is out of town, hence why no one is worried about not hearing back from him.

Michael tells Sanders everything they learned about Louise last week & then finds Alex's napkin from Jesse stuck to his boot, with blood on it, and immediately reacts.

Isobel mentions Rosa's sketchbooks in front of Diego, which was risky.  Diego didn't seem to react either, which is weird.

Diego and Liz in the Crashdown.

"Ah, doing some molecular gastronomy."

"Oh, got to stay on top of trends these days. Everything needs to be Instagrammable."

"Look, I was thinking...I bet butyricol uses inducible diphtheria toxins to stun the memory expression neurons into paralysis. See, of we can counteract that, we can get your friend her memories back."

"Would it boost GABA in DLPFC?"

"See, no, you're thinking working memory, not recovery. Think traumatic memory."

I am not smart enough to explain the science in this scene so:

Michael finds Jesse Manes in Alex's house.  Jesse pulls his gun, but Michael uses his powers to disarm him and throw him to the ground.

"You told Alex Tripp gave you this in 1987. That's before the Crashdown ever used this logo."

Accurate, based off of the flashbacks we saw in 2x09. However, how would Michael know that? Unless he has studied the history of the Crashdown Cafe, he wasn't even born yet in 1987.  Unless they changed the logo much later. It would be way more plausible to me for Alex to know that detail than Michael, as someone who spent his childhood hanging out with Liz.  Michael didn't even live in Roswell until 2001.

"I just found out that Alex never made it to Andrews Air Force Base last week.  He's disabled. He has PTSD. So I'm concerned about him."

Isobel tells Rosa that Arturo is lying low.  Which explains why he's not working during Crash Con.

Isobel explains to Rosa why she came. Love that Rosa knew it had to be about Isobel wanting something.

"I am curious about what's in your journals...I didn't really read anything.  I'm trying this new thing where I don't follow every selfish impulse."

"But you still looked.  What are you looking for?"

"Myself.  So to speak. I'm curious about what might be in there from the whole Noah thing."

"You can look.  And if you see something that you want to know about just ask. I'm probably going to tell you to mind your own beeswax, but, you know, shoot your shot."

Kyle and Max in the Wild Pony:

"I was suspended from work today. Craziest thing. I was accused of stealing hospital resources for personal use. There might even be a criminal investigation."

"Look… you're a good person. You probably deserve for me to leave you the hell alone, which is why I wish I didn't have to ask you, but I'm concerned that Project Shepherd might be tied to these abductions."

"You can't ask Alex?"

"He's out of town… Look, I'm just trying to find out who's hurting people."

"I hate having a conscience."

Diego & Liz in the Crashdown kitchen:

"Oh come on, you know damn well no one uses eggshells on purpose in any kind of cooking. You met my meemaw. Don't insult me. You're making calcium carbonate. Is this about regenerating worms?"

"Kind of. I'm testing out a theory. I know I have to recreate it in a sterile environment later, but with my dad laying low in peak tourist season, I haven't been able to spend as much time in the lab."

"The lab that made you sign an NDA. Which is where again?"

"Nice try."

Diego and Liz Flashback #2, celebrating her research grant and study publication:

"The groundbreaking research led by Elizabeth Ortecho is the future of biomedical engineering."

"This grant changes everything. I mean, there is so much more that we can do now. We are really gonna save lives."

"I'm so proud of you. Oh...my God. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. I'm fine. It's just...when I was a kid, I felt trapped in my life. I was just thinking about what this would have meant to me then. To know that the person I am existed. This isn't what the world teaches girls like me to dream."

"What would you do… if you could do anything?"

"I want a Nobel Prize."

"Strong start. Okay what next?"

"Citizenship for my dad.  I want him to not always have to be so scared. And I want to be less angry. I'm angry so much of the time."

"Anger's not so bad. It reminds us that something's not right. And then we change it. And you are gonna change everything. I'm so glad I get to stand beside you while you do."

Back to present:

"Wait, I don't think that's fully…"

"Why are you helping me? I mean my dad, but me."

"You sound like my girlfriend. Naomi was also surprised that I would rush to Roswell to help someone who bulldozed my life."

"I really wish I would have handled things differently."

"But if you had, I wouldn't have Naomi. I mean, I have a good life, Elizabeth. I'm happy. I do miss you at work though. There's really...there's no replacing you there."

"Yeah I get the feeling."

"So wouldn't it feel really good if you would just tell me what your secret experiment is?"

"Hypothetically, let's say there's this rare blood disorder that affects one in four million people. No research, no treatments...Do you remember my planarian neoblasts with the regenerative proteins? So I…" fades off.

Max & Kyle in the bunker

"Searching for the term butyricol. What makes you think it's got a connection to Project Shepherd?"

"The drug was developed by the military. And the only other clue we have is a fractal burn pattern, which is an alien thing."

"And Project Shepherd is in the middle of your alien-military Venn diagram."

"I know. It's a long shot, but it's all I have right now."

"I'm surprised you haven't asked to see this sooner."

"Yeah, I'm still figuring out how much information I want to know. I mean, you ever wake up from a night of drinking and not want to know what happened the night before in case it's worse than you imagined?"

"Like if I don't remember Taylor Swift drag night at Planet 7, then it didn't happen?"

"...When this is done, why don't you let me give you a lift over to Liz's lab? We can load up the stolen equipment so you can return it. She's not using it."

"Nah, we don't have to do that."

"I mean, your handprint gives you access to their security system, right? So, you know, just get in there and return their stuff. Maybe they'll go easier on you if they have it."

Jesse and Flint (in front of Michael)

"Flint, what did you do with your brother?"

"Drop the gun...you can't pull intel from a dead soldier."

"I'd be careful kid. I taught you everything you know, but I didn't teach you everything I know. You wouldn't have showed up unless you wanted my attention. Well here I am. Where is Alex."

"He's safe and sound. I know how concerned you are about his safety. That why you had him locked in the basement? You kidnapped him first, Pops. What do you want from him anyway?"

"You hand him over to me right now."

"No. This time I outrank you, and I haven't granted clearance."

"You outrank me."

"You went soft. My entire life has been about destroying the aliens. That's all I've done.  Develop weapons, develop strategy. Fighting for our species, 'cause you told me."

"I was wrong."

"You can't do that. I don't need you for this, old man."

My question: how much of that was real and how much of that was staged? It seems like it was staged at the beginning, but then it also sort of seemed to go off the rails. It's really unclear to me just how involved Jesse is with Flint and Helena's plan. I'd like to believe a lot. But who knows? One thing I'm fairly confident about though is that Jesse is NOT who initially took Alex from the junkyard. The figure is all wrong for Jesse at the end of 2x10.

Michael uses his powers to steal Jesse's cane and whacks him over the head with it.

"You had him in your basement? What, you took him last week after you got that piece of alien tech from me? He's a loose end. If we got him back from Flint, you were gonna kill him. You are barely human! When I was a kid, I thought maybe because of my high IQ, my species was superior to your. Then I fell in love with your son. And I didn't feel superior anymore.  I am angry. And smashing things, it's easy. Alex has evolved past that. He's past you! And he's past me. Despite you slapping him around, shoving that Manes Man crap down his throat, he still loves. He even loves you. You don't deserve to call him your son."

Max and Kyle trying to get into the lab.

"I was deceased when they made the guest list."

Gah plot issues.  How did Max manage to sneak up on Liz in the lab at the beginning of 2x08 if he doesn't actually have access? 

"Maybe Liz was still pissed about the pollen in my mom's perfume, had Alex revoke my access?"

Yet another plot issue.  Why would Alex do that, even if Liz asked? He and Kyle were teaming up before he even knew that Liz knew about aliens. It makes zero sense that Alex would do that. It would have to be a spite thing from Liz because of her argument with Kyle in 2x09 and there's no guarantee she even has control over the security access for the lab. 

"If Diego was able to find out about this butyricol through his fancy connections, maybe it wasn't a Project Shepherd or Caulfield trial. Maybe it was legit military."

"Military would have some use for something that would erase state secrets from people's minds. They can't spill to the enemy."

"Or you could erase bad memories from soldiers coming home. Or it could be a weapon."

"Erase an army's memories...they don't know what they're fighting for anymore."

"Project Shepherd hasn't been legit in years, so what does Flint Manes do, officially, for the military?"

"He's a weapons specialist. He could have access to biomedical trials."

"Let's go. Find out what he's up to." 

Liz and Diego

"My team at my research facility, we found a rare protein. A mutated gene. You know what? I've said too much. You probably think I'm delusional anyway."

"No, you're not delusional. Elizabeth Holmes was delusional."

"Yeah, well, at least Elizabeth Holmes had funding."

"You can get funding."

HBO recently did a whole documentary on Elizabeth Holmes. I haven't watched it yet, but she seemed craaaazy in the trailer.

Flashback 3, Liz finding out that she lost her funding.

"The second we move from worms to human cells, they pull our funding and that isn't fair."

"I think you should reconsider the Genoryx grant."

"What difference does it make? Every research facility in this country answers to the same uber-conservative Department of Health and Human Services."

"Well, whoever's funding Genoryx isn't super concerned about FDA guidelines. They're above the red tape.  Look, you can start saving the world now."

"I can't do anything shady or secret. I have too much to lose."

"My God, Elizabeth. You don't always have to be this perfect daughter of a perfect immigrant!"

"Yes I do. Because the imperfect daughter is in a box at Frontier Valley Cemetery."

Back to present:

"Genoryx has more money than they know what to do with."

"Just because your office has ping-pong tables and hyperbaric napping chambers, does not mean that Genoryx isn't unethical."

Note: up until this last line it was implied that Diego and Liz were actually working together in the lab.  This line implies that wasn't the case, that Diego actually works for this Genoryx. Which sounds sketchy.  Related to Deep Sky maybe?

Graham Green's interruption, which is certainly going to be relevant to one of the final episodes:

"Greetings, Graham Crackers! Today, a private citizen pledged a donation to the museum that will change the course of human history. At closing night, 7:00 p.m., main stage, I will unveil the most astonishing alien artifact I've seen in all my years of collecting."

Michael chases down Flint Manes, uses his powers to puncture his tire, disarm him, and toss him to the ground.

Isobel and Rosa discussing Helena:

"This is the post-high school chapter, which is really just a big burn book on my mom. Finding out my dad wasn't my dad was bad. It was Liz's senior year when I dumped my drug dealer boyfriend, and I went to this NA meeting. I think that was the first time that I ever actually wanted to get better. But still, I wore a hoodie, I sat in the back, I made myself really invisible. I was...high at the meeting. You can see it if you want to. Jump in."

What Helena says in Rosa's flashback:

"The drinking started when the man I loved left me. That was almost 20 years ago. And I still see him every day. I see him in the street, in my business, but I can handle that. What I can't handle is when I see him in our daughter's eyes. Sometimes I think if we didn't have a child together, I might not hurt so much all these years later. I might not still love him, but I do today. So I drink, and I take pills. And I try not to look my daughter in the eye."

Back to present: 

"Why did you want to show me that?"

"I cannot relate to marrying a body-stealing alien sociopath. You're kind of on your own for that one. But I know that you're feeling messed up over not knowing your real mom. And I guess I just feel like it's worth saying that I wish I knew mine a little bit less."

Note: Again, how does Rosa know any of Isobel's identity issues? I guess we're supposed to assume that either Liz told her about it all, or that she and Isobel are having long, deep, phone conversations on the side?  Because everything that happened with Isobel trying to learn about Louise happened while Rosa was in rehab. 

The Spanish:

"Javi, la migra. Cuídate. Te llamo mas tarde."

Javi, immigration. Beware. I'll call you later.

The ICE officer from 2x10 comes into the Crashdown, threatens, and insults Liz. Liz first tries to get them to leave by offering them free coffee to go, and then the floodgates open and she starts fighting them.  Diego finally convinces them to leave by telling them that the Acting Director of U.S. Customs and Immigration Enforcement is a personal friend. At least the jackass learned how to pronounce her name properly since last episode!  I don't really want to transcribe their insults so I'm gonna leave it at that summary, though if you need me to, just send me an ask.

Kyle and Max search Flint's house. Key points:

Inconsistency! Max's hands are bare when he picks the lock to break into the house, but then he puts gloves on (off camera) when he's searching. But if the point was to avoid fingerprints he just left them all over the door!

Kyle finds a thumb drive that catches his attention for some reason. It's labeled Yucca Blooms LTD. Just as a side point, the Yucca flower is the state flower of New Mexico.

Max finds something in the trash that catches his attention, but we don't see what it is until the end of the episode. 

They get interrupted by a car pulling up and hide in the closet (paralleling Liz and Kyle hiding in the closet in 2x04).

Max finds the sniper rifle in the closet, which was shooting at him and Charlie when they rescued Cam in 2x08. (But Max shot the sniper...just a point.)

Kyle says Max smells like rain.

Kyle spots the hunting van pulling away from Flint's house.

I lied, you can see Max pull the box from the trash can.

Rosa calls Helena's house to hear her mom's voice.  Dirk answers & says:

"Helena? Helena is that you baby? Oh if it is please come home. We've been so worried. I love you so much. If this is the bastard that took her, I hope you rot in hell, you son of a bitch."

Note: why would Rosa have Helena's phone number? That is such a silly plot point. They wouldn't let her see Helena in 2x07 so why would they let her have her phone number? Why would she WANT it? This one kind of bugs me.

In the car driving back to Roswell, Rosa speculates that Helena was abducted leaving town.  Either that or she bailed on her family.

Rosa says she's not done with rehab and wants to go back once they know her mom is ok. Isobel actually seems concerned and asks if she wants to stay longer. Rosa wants to stay until she's better.

Isobel on money, answering one of fandom's oldest questions:

"Listen, Noah was a treacherous, serial-killing alien, but he did have a happy knack for day trading. And… I've been trying to figure out what to do with all that money he left behind...I want to be better too. The more that I learn about Louise, the more I want to be like her. She was a good person and she made a difference. Someone told me recently that they saw a lot of her in me. I really want that to be true."

They stop at the junkyard since Michael is not responding to Isobel. Which...doesn't seem all that out of character for him?

Michael and Flint chatting while Michael violently tortures him:

"So this is the perk of being a weapons specialist, huh?"

"If this is your attempt to convince me that you aren't a horde of violent invaders here to colonize a planet that isn't yours, I mean, you're doing a really bang-up job."

"You know, I was a good kid. I wanted to be an agricultural engineer. Maybe have a couple kids, start a dad band. But then I was provoked. And now I'm this. Maybe there's still hope for you. Your brother Gregory's living a peaceful life teaching kids, staying jacked on the res. And Alex…"

"Alex is a traitor. He'll be court-martialed when this is over."

"So he's still alive?"

"You were early."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, my father demanded a meeting. I had just left Sanders' Auto."

"If you hurt that old man!"

"I wouldn't touch him. Okay? He's a hard-working American. I was just leaving you a note. And I took Alex because I knew it was the best way to get you to cooperate. Alex will be fine as long as you do what I say. If you disobey,  make my day any worse, Alex will die knowing you are the reason. So why don't you untie me and apologize. We'll go from there."

Note that this scene is where we learn the source of the fractal burns.

Diego's last pitch to Liz:

"Listen, Genoryx invests in their people. You are valuable. I'm sure they'll sponsor Arturo's path to citizenship if you just sign on. In the meantime, you can work in a sanctuary city."

Max and Liz's fight:

"Kyle and I connected butyricol to Flint Manes. So I called Alex's other brother Greg, and he said that Flint has this property outside of town. He drives a massive hunting van, Liz. He was the sniper the night we found Cameron."

"Have you called Alex?"

"No, Kyle's on it, but there's something else. I found this in Flint's trash."

"This is the box my dad kept my abuelita's ring in until my mom stole it."

"I got the ring back, but she kept the box."

"Rosa called earlier. She was worried about Mom. I said that she probably just bailed like she always does. Okay, if Flint used Jenna to get to Charlie because Charlie builds bioweapons, what does he want with my mom?"

"Maybe he's trying to get to another bioengineering genius."

"Well, that's not gonna work. I don't care about her… Max, what's going on? You're being cold."

"This is a serious conversation."

"No, don't do that. What's going on?"

"I know Maria left yesterday. I saw her and Mimi off from the Wild Pony. So I know you didn't spend last night helping her process. And you certainly didn't spend last night here. I didn't push it this morning because I trust you, and everyone's entitled to their secrets."

"If this is about Diego you're way off base."

"I wish this was about Diego. Why is Kyle locked out of your lab? Why did you tell me that no one's accepting your applications when you've turned down two research grant offers? I found the papers in my trash."

"Because I don't want to go back to that. Okay? I brought you back to life and now I don't want to go back to worms and mice and rats and hoping maybe my work will help some other scientist revolutionize medicine decades from now."

"What kind of work are you doing, exactly?"

"I'm developing a rapid treatment for a rare blood disease. Kyle's girlfriend is sick and I want to help repay him for what he's done for us."

"So this is just about Kyle's girlfriend and then it's over?"

"If I can cure her, the possibilities are endless. I can adjust it for other illnesses.

"Adjust what exactly? Alien DNA? Liz, my God. Like, let's say you're right and you find some miracle cure-all in alien spinal fluid and then that information falls into the wrong hands?"

"It won't because it's in my hands. Max, I love you, I love your family. I am asking you to trust me with this."

"No you're not asking me anything. You haven't asked me about any of this. You just got caught in a string of lies."

"I guess it sucks, huh? When your partner doesn't include you in major, life-altering decisions?"

"Are you angry at me for bringing your sister back?"

Not gonna lie, I laughed out loud when Rosa walks in at this moment.  When, literally, another alien brings Rosa back." Rosa & Isobel's reveal:

"Well, there is new information."

"We found this on Michael's trailer."

"Flint didn't abduct my mother. This is Helena's handwriting. They're working together."

Just one more little detail about the note... It's the same Roswell postcard that Cam's fake note from Charlie came on in 2x04. Different handwriting though.

Kyle and Steph:

"Is it true? Have you been stealing from the hospital?"

"Steph…"

"Yeah. #nofilter. I can't get my hands to work lately, which makes getting the top off my makeup kind of hard. But we can talk about eye shadow after you answer me. Have you been siphoning hospital resources for God knows what?"

"It's not that simple. Yes, I've gone against hospital policy to treat people who can't get health care."

"Yeah well, this isn't a victimless crime, Kyle. My dad. He's been getting so much heat about supply shortages. His personal genome machine getting stolen out from under his nose. Do you know how much it's costing him to keep me alive right now? How much it would cost if he lost his fancy insurance?"

"I hadn't thought about that. I'm gonna return everything. That's why I'm here right now. To apologize. And to say goodbye. I am definitely going to lose my job, and after I confess to everything they're definitely gonna press criminal charges."

"Yeah well, your mom's the sheriff."

"And if you'd met her you'd know that means I'm really screwed. I wish you'd met her. She'd really love you. Goodbye Steph."

"Show up for your shift tomorrow...Yeah the thing about dying? Your dad's willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. And I don't want you to lose your job, so."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't. I'm still mad at you. Close the door on your way out."

Helena and Michael after she injects him:

"It's a special drug developed at Caulfield. It won't harm you at all, but you won't be able to use any telekinesis until it wears off. It'll keep you honest."

"I want to see Alex."

"Oh, you will. After you build me this bomb."

MUSIC:

Note, normally I get my music list straight from the source - the show's music supervisor shares it on Twitter @cmollere. But he didn't share this week because politics. So this week I pulled it from here:

Pasado Es Pasado - LMS

Makeup Counter Girl - Powerslide

Summer's Over - Pillbox

Just a Human, Being Human - Joey Sykes

The Last Man in Tujunga - I See Hawks in L.A.

Matter of Fact - BUVA

Take Me Someplace - Joey Sykes

Fade Out - Vicious Kiss

It's Easier to Run Away - Joey Sykes

[jxwritesss]

I’m currently writing this on wattpad as well! @jxwritess

This is a Noen Eubanks fan fiction, I’m trying to spread my book around, pls share and help, it means a lot xx, my main platform is wattpad please read it on there if you find this and enjoy it!

New York. The only place in the entire world, where robots were being developed. Robots, that looked exactly like humans, and there being only one distinctive difference, a tattoo. One that said RA-H.

An RA-H. Robotic animated humans. These androids are helping the world as much as it is destroying it. They force people out of jobs, but in doing so create even better things then humans. Thousands of different political views, millions of haters and lovers. And then there's me.

Malia Blanche, 17, I lost my father, and I was the spitting image of my late mother. I only recently moved to LA, where my life was bombarded with these new androids, I get the concept of them, although I don't truly understand it.

Well, on with the story shall we?

-Chapter One.

Sunday, the day before I start college. A new life, a new story and a new beginning. I can finally pursue my dream of being a writer, just like my mother.

My mother attended John Brown college academy  , her department was romance, mine, mystery, ever since I was a child I thrive for solving mysteries, actions, you know in the movies where there's a fight scene, and it goes slow motion and they throw the punch of victory, thats what ignites my fire, the thrive for doing good, but in a dangerous way, I could always figure out who was lying in a movie, or who the murderer was. Maybe I should be a detective, but my flow comes with writing.

Although I was attending my new school in a day, I lazily decided to stay in bed until half 10, I needed to be at Realsons&Co for 11:15, to get my uniform fitted. John Brown is a very pretentious academy, and I'd worked three jobs, and poured my heart and soul into getting here. Only the best attend the Academy. I don't necessarily fit into the 'my daddy got me in here' well, obviously. I quickly slipped on my jeans and jumper, and slid into my most prised possession. Although it had been pre-owned. The Audi was my mother's, she put her heart and soul into the car, and I will respect her decision and keep the car.

I take out my GPS although I already know where my fitting shop is, as I pass it a few times on the way to my grandma's.

Carefully parking in the visitor section I leave my car, and walk up the steps, and enter the shop, the bell above my head dings and an elderly woman pops her head up and immediately smiles at me. 

"Are you Malia?" The woman asks putting her newspaper down and picking up a signing book.

"Yeah, I'm not too early am I?"

"Of course not, dear.  I'm Molly, my grandson Will, he's in the back, he will measure you up if you need anything readjusting or if you can't find anything your size. John Brown, Deanford and Attenwood are in the back left." She says pointing in the direction.

I thank her, and mentally thank that the place is practically empty. I don't like small talk, thanks social anxiety.

Walking through the back I spot John Brown uniform. A black blazer with red linings, a short black skirt and a white blouse and a dark red tie. Not too childish but not suitable enough for adults.

At the corner of my eye I see a tall boy sat on his phone, his eyes flicker up for a second at me, then back down to his phone.

I continue my search to look for the right size for my uniform when I feel a pair of eyes on me, it makes me feel uncomfortable and I start to guess that the pair of eyes is Molly's grandson Will, I mentally scold myself for being so awkward and pretending not to know that he's watching, when I hear his chair scrape my heart decides to do an athlete course and I pray he can't hear it from where he's standing.

I can tell he's now behind me, as I face my social fears I turn around and slam right into his chest, and in result dropping all my stuff, Will snorts, before helping me by picking up some of the clothes that dropped.

"Thanks," I say, grabbing the clothes from his hand and attempting to walk past him, but his arms stop me.

"Was that sarcastic or not?" He asked smiling. I take a second to take in his looks, he doesn't look as bad as I thought he would, but he doesn't act like a arrogant guy either.

"I'll let you figure that one out," I smile politely back, "I'm Will." He says moving his arm in a posh manner to let me through.

"I know, Molly told me," I answer, "I guess you know who I am?" "Yep, how could I ignore a pretty girl like you?" I mentally roll my eyes at the typical boy. "Mhm, well I need to get changed so excuse me" I say speed walking away from him, boys that make comments like that make me feel extremely uncomfortable.

As I turn the corner to the fitting rooms, I hear Will's voice once again, "I'm gay by the way," he says laughing, I stop in my tracks, suddenly feeling a bit stupid.

——

Checking that I haven't left any clothes behind, I pile them onto the counter, where Will is now standing, he starts to put all my clothes in an expensive looking plastic bag, he looks up at me, "Sorry about earlier, I was just messing about." "No, it's okay, I felt a bit silly when you said you were gay."

He shakes his head and laughs, "most people do, well the ones that aren't stuck up with money up their ass usually do." "Well I'm only here on a scholarship, so I'm not one of them people," I say handing him over the small fee I have to pay, as the scholarship covers most of it. "Surprisingly so am I, I got accepted for Athletics at John Brown," I never really though I would but I guess I should thank the Lord, my parents can't wait to get rid of me anyways, being gay has a price to pay, apparently."

"Well, they obviously don't see the good person that you are." I smile at him, although I wish he hadn't of brought it up, I'm not necessarily the best at giving advice.

The bell rings, and a tall, slim girl walks through.

"Tanner" she says walking through right into the back without a second glance.

"I understand what you mean by stuck up," I whisper, Will chuckles and passes me my bag, the girl walks back and stands behind me, not even two seconds later she starts tapping her foot and complaining.

"Since when do we serve nobodies, Will? That's right we don't. Now move, thanks." She says pushing right past me and throwing her uniform on the counter. Luckily it wasn't a John Brown one, otherwise I might've just about died.

I quietly wave at Will and walk out, seeing a shining white Porsche outside. Seriously where do you even get one that looks so shiny from?

I put the bag in the passenger seat, still feeling annoyed about the girl, as I reach my small flat,   I lock my Audi, and read a movie poster about a girl going missing  with her extremely ill dad. Making a mental note to watch the movie later, I walk up my stairs and unlock my door, I make myself a cup of tea and order some pizza, as I walk into my room, I open up my laptop, and have three new emails, one spam, but two from publishers. My heart does leaps as I open the first one.

'Telford Publishing'

- Hello Malia, we are proud to hear that you are following in your beloved mothers steps. I have read your book sample, but I would like to offer you a potential job, and a tour around  the new              T Pub&Co. I know how much it would mean to your mother if you accept my offer.

Many thanks, Gary.

A potential job?? Could this be my genuine big break?  Hearing a knock at the door, I run over, wanting to start up a reply as soon as possible. Grabbing my purse I open my door to an RA-H

"Malia Blanche?"

"Yes, here's my ID." The robots light turns red as it examines my ID. Doing a robotical smile it's arm stretches out, grabbing the pizza I express a thank you and run back to my desk.

'T Pub&Co.'

Thank you for my sample! I will gladly accept your offer, please email with more detail about the tour and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. My mum would be so happy.

Sincerely, Malia.

As I send the email I let out a squeak of happiness with pizza in my mouth. Clicking onto my word pad, I let myself fall into the world of fiction, and let time slip through my hands.

——

And that's how it is now 3.36am on a Monday trying to start a new story, anything to take my mind off the upcoming day, and the extremely embarrassing 'Tanner' fiasco.

I push my chair back from my old, ridden desk, and flop onto my bed, snuggling into my bedsheets, this has been going on for a week, for some reason I have no flow, the biggest writers block, I have stories everywhere across my room, started, just the plot, a thesis, a blurb. But recently I haven't found anything to give me that push. I turn and toss in an unsucsessive attempt to sleep, and as I check my phone it is only 4 am.

Great, no sleep for the wicked.

——

Groggily, I turn over in my bed and look over to my clock, 6.07am. Throwing my bed covers over, I lazily get up and put on the uniform that luckily fits perfectly. Thinking about my email yesterday, there is nothing more that I want in the world then my writing to become known. Realising that I spend too much time daydreaming, and badly making pancakes, i'm late and have no time to see if I have a reply. Already. Typical Me.

Rushing out of my door, checking the contents of my bag to make sure that I have everything that I need I speed walk right into someone walking up my door, crashing everything they were holding onto the floor.

"God I'm sorry, I didn't mean too, wasnt looking where I was going." I look up and realise that, I wasn't even speaking to a human, but none other then an Android. It simply says, "No worries miss," and continues with its day. Those androids are the ones that Robert Morett himself created, word is that his son is attending John Brown. Although i'm here with a writing scholarship, I doubt he'd need any type of acceptance letter. He could just ask, he is one of the most richest people in America.

Pulling my keys out of my bag I speed walk towards my car, carefully throwing my bag in, and starting the Audi, before starting my drive I pull out my phone to the Maps app, although I used to drive past John Brown to get to school I still want to be prepared.

—

Pulling up at the academy, I notice a few eyes staring at the jet black Audi with the tinted windows, they're probably expected a drop dead gorgeous girl, or the sexiest guy

to walk out, but in all honesty I'm neither.

Turning off my car and stepping out the eyes are suddenly averted to another jet black car, most likely a gorgeous boy or girl in it.

My mind wavered at wondering whether I should stay and stare at the person in black, or be late to my lecture.

Achieving my dream comes first.

I promised my mother that I'd focus on my work, and not get distracted. I intend on keeping that promise.

[bffhreprise]

Entry 235

 James sat with me, never taking his hand from my shoulder.  My tears continued, running… drip, drip, drip.  Water running nearby as if my tears already made a puddle.  I could feel James’ touch.  There was carefree skipping in the distant, otherwise empty park.  I was never carefree even as a child.  James was with me.  I fought back the darkness when he mentioned getting shot so casually, but the tears continued.  James stayed with me.  I knew what I was avoiding.  There were thoughts too tender to touch.  What would become of me now?  The tears continued, bad thoughts avoided.  James was still with me.

 I could hear the flap of wings similar to a hummingbird.  The sound soon hovered nearby, so I glanced up to see what was there.  “James!  There's a… a fairy!  A real-life fairy!”

 “Is there?” he asked.

 For a moment, I wondered if I somehow became even more crazy, but the smile he fought to control told me otherwise.  He could see it.  As I considered possibilities, I slowly reached toward the fairy.

 Thoughts of the fairy cowering, flying away in fear, entered my head as I considered what would happen if she saw my other form.  I smothered the darkness as it tried to burn out from its hole.  Unlike me, this fairy was innocent.  I mustn't let her see.  Mustn't let James see.

 “Looks like she wants to play with you.” commented James as his smile grew.

 “What?  How can you tell?” I dubiously questioned.  “Dubious” was a fun word.  I liked dubious.  I didn't like being teased.  Was James picking on me?

 “Didn't you see that image?” he asked.

 James saw his own darkness?  I couldn't really picture something dark within him.  I was probably confused.  I never quite got the hang of communicating with people.  They could forget stuff as they spoke.  I never forgot, but I often grew distracted.  With how slow people talk, my thoughts could drift to a thousand places before they finished their sentence.  I would collect and order my thoughts, respond, and wait again, fighting the fear that would always rise.  Oh, yes.  Image.

 “What image?” I asked.  The fairy hadn't said anything this whole time, watching us.

 She was unashamed in her nakedness.  Beautiful and confident.  Her wings were translucent while her body was radiant.  Her wild hair looked perfectly natural.  I wanted to hold her and talk with her.

 He had been talking.  He was saying something about the fairy.  I continued thinking about the fairy while he spoke.  Then I arranged the pieces.

 “Huh.  Perhaps you're unintentionally blocking her out as I had done, but the Fey communicate directly with your mind, placing images, feelings, scents, et cetera directly into your mind.” he had told me.

 “Wh-what?  But… I want to hear her…” I assured him, even as I doubted myself.  I watched the fairy flutter.  “Flutter” was another good word.

 “I did too, but I… well, I suffered from too much attention when I was young and grew accustomed to ignoring a great many things.  Now I fight the urge to bottle myself up every hour of every day, because my little friend here grows quite annoyed with me when we can't communicate.” he explained.  “You have to open yourself to her, really want her inside your head.”

 Before he was finished speaking, I was cringing.  The idea of this innocent creature exposed to my mind was terrifying.  She would be terrified if she found the darkness, if she knew what I was.  Even fairies couldn't be friends with monsters.

 “I… I can't.” I admitted, certain James would think even less of me.  Maybe he wouldn't even turn me away nicely now.

 He reached out, placing his hand back on my shoulder.  When had it left?  Oh.  Back when the fairy arrived.  I felt his gentle touch, enjoying it and knowing I shouldn't.  If I transformed, his hand would be shredded by my fur.

 “Raine, don't run.  You still have an interview, and I have a feeling you'll fit in nicely here. There are other fey you'll be able to meet if you work for me.”

 Fact or fiction?  Fact: He had said those words.  Fiction: Their validity.  Monsters can't belong.  He didn't realize what I was.  I considered fleeing some more.  Fact: I needed time for those thoughts lurking in my mind.  Fiction: I could be happy here for a time.  I wanted that fiction.

 “Other f-fey?  More fairies?” I questioned.

 Smiling again, he said, “No, the others don't appear as fairies.  They come in all shapes and sizes with an equally great range of abilities.”

 I had my fingers along the grass, surprisingly lush despite the heavy snow.  Wait.  Why wasn't I touching snow?  I had sat in snow.  Things were warmer than they should be.  I saw a circle of grass where we sat, surrounded by snow beyond the circle.  Thinking back, I heard it when I was crying.  I had stopped crying!   Why was the snow melted!?

 “The snow melted!” I exclaimed as I stood, wanting James to take notice as well.

 He shrugged and said, “Oh.  Sorry.  I was worried about you catching a cold, so I heated the area around us and got the water out of our clothes.”

 Huh.  I remembered seeing the lights move faster than normal but was distracted, fighting the darkness.  I didn't consider there was a meaning this time.  I remembered wishing each pinprick of light was a fairy looking over the world when I was young.  I had underestimated the beauty of fairies.  She was wonderful in her tininess.  My thoughts continued to wander till I realized I was far afield from where I started.  Oh!

 “Y-You… you can use magic?  You're so…” I started wondering how to describe him in terms of speed as I thought about how he sounded when he ran toward me while I worked up to hitting the doorbell.  Pitter patter.  Pitter patter   People don't move that fast.  “so fast too…”  Wait.  James wasn't a person!?  I thought for a time.  No, he was a wonderful person.  He just wasn't human.  “Wh-What are you?”  I felt rude.  I asked him what he was without letting him know he stood before monster.  Monsters were allowed to be rude.

 “Human, surprisingly.”

 Anime style eye-bulging was how I imagined myself.  His pacing hadn't been human.  I checked and rechecked, imagining myself with a ruler as I measured his stride before returning to the door.

 “Apparently, one of us pops up with gifts here and there.” he insisted with such confidence that doubt would be an affront to the statement.

 Monsters were supposed the be confrontational, so I almost forgave myself for dubiousness.  I believed James, despite knowing humans weren't like him.  The dilation of his eyes hadn't changed.  His heartbeat was slow and steady.  He didn't sweat.  He didn't smell of fear.  He was certain, but he was probably certain the girl he faced was just a kitty, not a monster.

 “Most of the others living here are not human, so you really don't have to worry about species.” he insisted, obviously unaware of what stood before him.

 Other than Alma and those twins, I could probably name every species who had been in that house for the past several months by smell alone, though I knew something else now too.  Fey.  There was a similar smell to the fairy on the redhead.  Why wasn't he tiny and cute if he was related!?  Life wasn't fair.  He probably had impossible dreams of being a sixtieth his size and looking cute.

 “But…” I started, knowing I should tell James the truth.  “But…” I tried again, knowing you wouldn't want a monster in his precious home.  Something had changed.  The skipping child was much closer.  I caught her scent on the wind.  Her voice… Wide-eyed fangirling was to commence in three… I started to turn, savoring this moment.  Two… The excitement was building.  One… I could already see the skipping, singing form in my peripheral vision.  Zero… My heart beat like a war drum sounding off an engagement.  My mind raced through how I would build such a drum in Ancient Tribes of Earth.  The game's creator was skipping toward me.  I felt as if a goddess was descending despite seeing the carefree skipping over the snow.  Her socks didn't match.  The jacket contrasted terribly with her mismatched shoes.  Wild, blonde hair danced in the wind.  Her eyes sparkled with fun.

 “That's… th-that’s the princess!” I exclaimed, uncertain his “human” eyes could tell.  Could a magically imbued human still claim humanity?  She'd know!  The princess was famous for knowing.

 The fairy was fangirling even harder than I was, flying off to meet the princess before she reached us.  The temptation was real.  I could be to her before the fairy’s wings flapped again.  Would I even be able to talk?  I wasn't even worthy of talking with her.  I was a monster.  This was the princess!  Would she remember me?  James hadn't.  Well, he knew my name, but…  why did people think we had dated!?  Didn't matter.  Princess coming.  Must make words.

 “Can…” I started.  Good word.  More needed.  Must accomplish mission.  No… quest!  So many thoughts.  Words needed.  Communicate.  James was nice.  He'd help.  “Can I…”  Step closer to victory.  I can do this.  I already imagined how her hand might move, stroking a page with a pen.  Page!?  My game.  I needed her to sign my game.  Could I pay for more autographs!?  One first.  Must make with the words.  “I mean…”  So nervous.  “Please, will you…”

 James’ heart rate had risen and his scent changed.  He was nervous too.  Even James couldn't grow accustomed to being near the princess.  Nerves were fine.  Goal in sight.  I could do this.  No!  Question left unfinished!  Needed more words.

 “Autograph, please.” I finished, forcing myself to speak as clearly as possible.  Would he understand!?  The wait seemed too long.  Mission failure!?  No!  Wait.  Time was a slow thing.  Waiting required.  Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

 “You want her autograph?” inquired James.

 Success!  Quest stage complete.  Onto next stage!  Multi-tiered quests could be tricky, but the princess was close in… I could do this!  Oh.  More words needed.  He had asked a question.  Confirmation required.  Must click quest box to approve stage clearance.

 Nodding, I said, “I… I'm… I'm in your g-guild.”

 Clarity: poor.  Mrs. Darfunkle frowny face.  She was my favorite teacher in grade school.  Her frowny faces were heart wrenching.  I remembered them all.  I always knew I goofed when there was frowny face.  Monsters get worse, so I survived with just frowny faces.  She never learned about the monster in her class.

 “I really doubt she'll mind.  Aaliyah acts as the secretary here, although I'm certain she's underpaid.” replied James.

 A tower of powerful i-beams fell apart in my head.  Well, steel was fragile, so I overvalued their strength.  I worked through what caused the mess.  There was something distinctly out of place here.  Words needed again.  Princess questions important.

 “But… I thought… You don't… d-don't work for her?” I questioned, reconsidering if adequate words were there.  Scenarios of James working for the princess were hovering around a trash bin.

 “I do at times.”

 Scenarios placed back on shelves and petted gently for good behavior.

 “Well, generally I'm technically working for her father, but that might as well be working for Aaliyah too.  You'll see.  She's quite the brilliant little girl.” explained James, adding to my questions.

 How incredible was Aaliyah's father?  What did they do for fun?  Did he play Ancient Tribes of Earth?  If he did, was he in our guild?  Are there actually people who don't know the princess is brilliant!?  The questions continued whirling along as James talked more.

 “Oh!  If you play Ancient Tribes of Earth, you'll love the setup we have here.  With the fastest computers I've seen.”

 His voice sounded slightly pained when he mentioned computers.  What tragedy had befallen a computer in his presence.  James deserved happiness.  He wasn't a monster like me.  Could I really stay here without telling him the truth?  Maybe for a while?  The princess was coming.  No time for monstrous truths.

 “Can I… can I really w-work… for… for y-you?” I managed to ask.

 “Well, I'm technically supposed to be giving you an interview, but I'm leaning toward 'yes’, though we'll have to work on your shyness.  What brought you here today?”

 “Mom…” I started, fighting back those thoughts I didn't have time to consider.  “My mom…” I tried again, but the thoughts came.  I wasn't with her and didn't protect her this time.  As I fought the thoughts, I felt James hug my shoulders.  He had such a pleasant warmth.

 “Were-... werewolves…” I remembered her blood in the alley.  “They…” I had fought so hard not to follow them.  “they killed her.”  The darkness called.  I could find them… kill them… I'd be gone and back next time James blinks.  Tears were coming.  The monster needed chained.  I should just leave.  I could run far away or maybe just never stop.  Could I eventually wear out?  “I… I need…”  I needed to flee.  I needed to save James from myself.  I had so many thoughts on what I needed, but I said, “home.”

 I didn't want to leave now.  I didn't want to flee.  I had nowhere else to go.  Monsters didn't belong in this world.  The werewolves belonged more than I do, but I had to be somewhere.  I couldn't stop existing, despite my existence endangering others.  The darkness stayed contained as I focused more and more on James’ warmth.  He was so kind.

 “Boss-man, sir, I see your interviews are as intimate as ever.” stated Aaliyah as she reached us with the fairy still fluttering around her.

 “This being my first one, I can hardly say that's the case.” he replied.

 “Boss-man, sir!  Don't you remember interviewing me!?” she questioned, sounding hurt.

 Smiling, he said, “Perhaps my memory’s fuzzy, but I recall you more or less giving me an ultimatum.”

 “Boss-man, sir!  That's not nice.  I'm telling your mommy on you.” she warned as she placed her tiny hands on her hips and glared adorably.

 “I'd worry, but you know I was only teasing.  Did you know Raine here as in our guild?”

 “Well, duh, boss-man, sir.  She plays Nekopawpaw, the catgirl crafter.  Everyone knows her.”

 I was surprised by the casualness with which they bantered.  These two were even closer than I had surmised when I first met them.  Even more surprising, the princess knew me.  She recognized me in real life and as my character.  I considered hugging her, kneeling before her, prostrating myself and telling her how unworthy I am.

 “Oh!” exclaimed James.  “You're that crafter!?  Wow.  I'm glad you didn't end up leaving.  Are things going well under Emma’s command?”

 I was befuddled.  Some errant dream had replaced reality.  The greatest guild leader in all of Ancient Tribes of Earth couldn't remember my name.  This life was a lie.  Good things we're rare and precious, not a treasure trove pouring out without end.  I already had seen James again, received numerous hugs, met a fairy, and even saw the princess again.  Was I dreaming in some alleyway!?  We're dreams this good!?  I tried to break back into reality.  Nothing happened.  I would try words.  Quest accepted.

 “You…” I started, not wanting to be confusing yet trying a hundred other words in my mind.  I'd stick with that one.  “You… you… noticed me?”  Clear.  Concise even?  Mission cleared?

 “Of course” he replied, sounding dream warning bells in my head.  “I couldn't have one of our best crafters leave the guild.  I'm surprised that you don't do more fighting.  You have to have great reflexes.”

 Fighting… fighting bad.  Not safe for me to fight.  I shook my head.  I wasn't a fighter.  I was a monster.  People die when monsters fight.

 “Well, we're glad to have you.  What do you think, Aaliyah?  Will Raine here be a fine best friend for hire?”

 Aaliyah grinned widely as she said, “You totally should hire her, boss-man, sir!  I came over to help you find the paperwork, since Mila’s… still dead.  How's your back?  I heard you were shot.”

 I moved slightly.  “Shot!?” I asked, remembering that was mentioned earlier.  Not a joke then.  “Who… why… James!?”  I couldn't imagine why someone would want to shoot James.  Why did people kill?

 “Stung a bit, but it's really not a big deal.  I'm fine.” he insisted.

 “Can I see the holes!?” asked the princess excitedly.

 James sighed and turned around after letting go my shoulder.  He didn't even stand.  I stared with wide eyes at the holes through his jacket and shirt.  His skin looked pristine, yet he still called himself human.

 “You… you're… fine?” I questioned, verifying that I was somehow trapped in a dream.

 “He's not the average human.” stated Aaliyah with a wink.  Then she turned to James and inquired “Did you ask if she eats people yet?  Marco will want to know who to cook for her if she does.”

 Bubble pop.  The princess knows everything.  True story.  Wait.  She knows.  James doesn't.  “I'd…”  Need more firmness.  Not a dream.  I'd never have dreamed about the princess asking such a thing.  Dreams aren't mostly pleasant.  “NO!” I asserted.  Too forceful?  The princess seemed amused.  What was happening?  I couldn't find a rational scenario.

 “Sorry, Raine.  I haven't honestly had much luck with the therianthropes I've met.  We had to know.” explained James, acting perfectly certain in his belief of my words.

 I nodded, still confused.

 Standing and reaching toward me, he said, “Welcome to Best Friend For Hire.  Sorry about the contract.  Aaliyah gets carried away writing them.”

[purusintellectus]

Hey! I really liked your meta on Hux, it's helping me get past my hatred of Rian for making him comedic relief. Do you think Hux and Kylo will end up exactly where they were in TFA because Ren knows he needs Hux? I firmly believe Supreme Leadership was a snap decision for control when he felt betrayed and like he lost everything, and he's gonna regret it real fast. I'm just having a hard time on the Kylux front with him throwing Hux around twice. He's textbook abusive to those close and weaker.

Hello, Anon!

Thank you for your message: I am glad to be of service! 

(Some quick and unchecked notes, because I am doing this while attempting to grade a pile of finals… I hope this is readable if not coherent)

[20/12/ 2017: In the end, I am double-checking this, because I am that kind of obsessive-compulsive personality and this has been bugging me for days]

Honestly, Thursday night I was extremely conflicted because, despite Hux being used as comedic relief  (and in a way he is), I actually enjoyed the movie. Cinematically speaking, I found it to be a way better movie than TFA. Therefore, I was being thorn apart, which I really, really didn’t like. I was trying to find balance within myself, so to speak, and reflecting a bit on the way Hux was actually portrayed in TLJ, beyond first impressions, seemed to be a better way to achieve that than to go out and stab people. (I am sure my father appreciates it. Upon further consideration, Rian should appreciate it too. And I should drop the Kylo-like talk here, because I already have to live with a face that looks a lot like Adam’s –these have been difficult days: I keep being stopped by random people on the street reminding me of my cross to bear – I fancy myself to be a well adjusted individual. More than Kylo Ren, at least. I keep the bar low.) 

I don’t think they will end exactly where they were in TFA, because something deep has shifted in their relationship. It’s not simply that, at least formally speaking, there is an imbalance in rank now: rather, with Snoke gone, they have no-one whose approval to fight over because of their respective daddy issues. In a way, they are going to be forced to grow up – at least from squabbling children to mildly murderous teenagers. If I were to write Episode 9, because of that shift, I wouldn’t go back to a TFA-like dynamic but I would try to explore the new tenuous balance between them. There are so many ways this could develop! I do believe that Kylo needs Hux to keep the Order together. Snoke told him as much. It is also clear that the troops take orders primarily from Hux – and even with all the Force in the universe, it’s hard to imagine Kylo wiping out an entire army.

I agree with you: Kylo is textbook abusive to those closer to him, in whichever way we want to take that “close”;  and he definitely seems to be emotionally, intellectually, and strategically weaker than Hux. He is bigger, he is probably physically stringer, and he has the Force. I don’t think he needs a redemption arc: he needs a good shrink. His behaviour is inexcusable, but this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t attempt to understand it and explain it, which doesn’t equate justifying it. 

 Ben Solo was not physically abused, but the book canon has (almost) established that he was emotionally neglected by his parents. 

In the Aftermath Trilogy, we see Leia basically ignoring a newborn crying his soul out, because “that’s what babies do”. True. But Cold. In Bloodline, she is so taken up with her political engagements that she hasn’t talked to her son in a long time – which seems to be the norm. And Han is going all over the Galaxy training random young pilots, who are not his son. I would be bitter. Add that they lied to him about his bloodline and he probably finds out that he is Darth Vader’s grandson from the holonet… well that’s more than enough to create issues within most people. Yet it doesn’t end here: now it’s canon that Snoke was messing with young Ben’s head and that Luke basically tried to murder him. Kylo Ren is a murder attempt survivor. I can immagine few traumatic events harder to live with than that. 

The gist of it is that, with absent parents who really had no business having a child and another authoritative familial figure who actually tries to kill you in your sleep, you are probably going to have issues in understanding how healthy relationships work and how to deal with any kind of closeness with other people. 

Hux is not any better off. He was outright abused for most of his life. Nonetheless, he is dealing with his trauma by taking it as training, which it was only partially meant to be. There is something feral, something untamed in Armitage – we learned as much from the Phasma novel – and that something allows him to brush off being debased and to just keep going, stronger because of it. In this sense, Hux is truly of the Dark Side, in a way that Kylo cannot hope to be: he knows that there is a price to pay and he pays it, no matter how painful for him or for his pride that price turns out to be.

However, Armitage is not a good person and in this sense he is a good match for Kylo. They are true believers in the cause – the Order for Hux; the Order, as we see from the TFA novelization, and the Darkness for Kylo. They think they are right, but they also believe that the ends justify the means – which makes them villains (apparently). Armitage has strategised, fought and killed his way to the top. He is not a good man, but he is smart, he is ruthless and he has the potential of being a great one. 

One of the most interesting elements we have noticed in TLJ is how grounding Hux is for Kylo, at various stages: during the first space battle, it’s Hux who brings Kylo back from his reverie and reminds him that he is actually supposed to be doing stuff and not simply floating there; and, later on, during the ground assault, it’s Hux who tells him, with unexpected gentleness, “that’s enough”. Kylo stops. He doesn’t retaliate, he doesn’t try to re-establish his authority. He just stops. 

Overall, Kylo and Hux are deeply damaged and problematic individuals, but despite being abusive to each other (Kylo with the Force, Hux with words and smirks and all of his passive-aggressive ways) they might actually end up being good for each-other, in some sick and distressing way. 

I will keep my fingers crossed and my expectations low (I am not overly fond of JJ Abrams), but I am fairly optimistic: if treated properly and carefully, the relationship between Kylo and Hux might develop in some interesting and entertaining ways. 

[storydays]

"Gods have mercy!" Scholar Vash cried. "Angus...Grenn..." Ezra placed his head in his hand. "Oh no.." Nia covered her mouth with her hands, before kneeling down next to Agnus' body, brown eyes glistening with tears. Her lips moved in a silent prayer. A faint golden glow surrounds her, and a warm breeze rustles the overgrown grass..but then faded away. 

"I can't help them, they're gone. Beyond the Light's reach." she said sadly. "I can't believe this. We saw them alive just last night." Ezra muttered. "With the adventurer, Mal! Y-You don't think..." Kade looked at his brother nervously. "Mal didn't do this. I can't know for certain but..I don't think this was his doing. There's nothing in it for him; neither Angus nor Grenn had anything worth stealing." Ezra said, firmly. 

"Yeah, I agree. I don't think this was him." agreed the younger. "But then...where is he? And who did this?" looking around as if the brunette was hanging around. Scholar Vash paced around, shaking his head.  "This is an affront to the Light! A blasphemy! Whoever is responsible has desecrated a place of worship. A holy place!" He ranted. 

"Ezra, what should we do?" asked Kade, looking at his brother hopefully. "I'm going to examine the area. There are bound to be clues around here." The thick, unkempt grass is difficult to see through, but after a moment, Ezra's sharp eyes could see a pattern emerging. His hand hovered over the faint trail of trampled grass, until he saw multiple pairs of footprints. 

"Looks like the victims were ambushed here. Probably by a group lurking behind this column, there's at least six sets of  ambushers' footprints. " He mumbled out loud, forgetting about his audience. "Six?" Nia squeaked. "And one of them is massive." The elf concluded. 

"Six enemies, one of them massive...not a fan of those odds. Do you think this has something to do with the relic?" Kade asked, running a hand through his hair. "Speak clearly now, boy. What relic?" Vash turned towards the teen, who shrugged. "I don't know! It's just something Mal said back in town! That he had a tip there was a powerful relic, and he was going to find it."

"Then it's true; I had to hope it was a myth, but by the Gods above and below, it must be true. I believe there is an ancient artifact hidden deep within this temple. Forgotten to time, relegated to legend. An Onyx Shard." The old man said mysteriously. "Seriously? The Onyx Shards are real?" Kade gaped. "You've heard of them? Kade, what's he talking about?" 

"They're the last relics that the Shadow Court left behind after the Great War. Cursed artifacts of terrible power. Very very very bad stuff." Kade explained. "I came upon the locations of the Shards in an ancient text last year. Seeing these bodies here, I may not be the only one who knows their location. Please! If whoever did this is after the Shard, we need to protect it. We can't let it fall into the wrong hands!" 

Ezra shared a look with Kade, noting his reluctance before clapping his brother's shoulder, then looking at Vash. "We'll accompany you inside to get this Shard. But if we bump into whoever did this, we're all running like hell. Understood?" "Let's just hope we find it before they do."Vash said gravely. Ezra drew his sword, and led the way to the main archway into the temple grounds. 

"This place isn't the best shape, is it?" Kade coughed. "Once it was majestic, regal. Packed day and night. Have we truly fallen so far from the Light?" Vash lectured. Ezra sighed at the sad vines; seeing nature so sad hurt his heart. The group stopped in front of the tunnels, one going left and one going right. "Stop...something feels off. Be careful where you step." Ezra warned. "Ezra? What should we do now?" Nia asked. 

"We should look for traps." He crouched to examine the floor tiles on the left side, noting one was raised an inch above the others and gave in slightly when he touched it. "That's a pressure plate if I ever saw one. I think this way's booby trapped." He glanced to the right looking at groove in the floor tile like centuries of feet have worn out the stone. 

"The right path looks well-traveled. Let's see where it leads." He decided. The group followed the path which began to slope down, spiraling in on itself. "Gods, how deep does this thing go?" Kade asked aloud. "Only the top level of the temple was open to the public. The lower levels, the catacombs, were for the priests and priestess." Vash explained. "To study and pray?" Nia wondered. "And to hide away from the dark." said the old scholar. 

Finally they reached the path deep below the complex. A stone door stands before them, but it was clearly forced open.  Ezra held the door open and gaped at the treasure piled up in the grand chamber. "I can't believe this has been here all along! If we explored this place ourselves, we could've become ri--" Kade cleared his throat, catching Scholar Vash glaring at him. "Ri....diculously pious adherents of the Light." Ezra snickered at his brother's misfortune. 

Vash approached a pedestal with scattered with golden chains and goblets. He gently picked up a large green crystal the size of a watermelon from the pile. "That is definitely not onyx." whistled Ezra. "No, it's not the Shard," chuckled Vash, "but it's still quite fascinating. I must bring it back to Whitetower with me for further study." Everyone was distracted looking at the treasure. Even Nia was admiring  a jewel encrusted old tome. 

"I can't believe it...how was here, all this time? And no one ever robbed it?" Kade furrowed his brow. "Maybe, no one knew it was here. Kade, we live a day away and we  had no idea." Ezra mumbled. "Yeah, well, it's pretty, but I don't like it one bit. If the people who murdered Angus and Grenn weren't after this treasure...Then what are they after?" "The Onyx Shard." Nia said solomonly. 

"We'd better keep moving." Ezra said, standing up. At the end of the room sits a heavy wooden fortified by twisting metal runes. Scholar Vash examines it closely before brightening. "Ah, yes! The ancient elves often used elaborate mechanisms to lock their secrets away. I've always wanted to solve one. They test your deep knowledge of elven linguistics!" He continued on to himself. 

Ezra rolled his eyes, Nia and Kade giggling at his dry remark. "That sounds....delightful." Scholar Vash ignored him and focused on the puzzle in front of him. "Seems quite simple...If I just press this...and turn this." 

Nothing happened. 

"Ah, well. I may need a moment." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Kade cleared his throat quietly. "Psst, Ezra. While he's busy with that, what do you say we keep scoping out  this treasure room? I think there's some hidden rooms down the back! We could go check them out...see what else this place has to offer." "Oooh! I would be interested in that! I recall seeing some fascinating statues.." Nia and Kade looked at Ezra expectantly. 

"Let's do it. That sounds way better than just sitting around here. Let's take a quick look around and see what we can find." While Vash continues tinkering with the door, the three younger ones headed deeper into the vault.  "So Nia, any idea why this treasure is all here?" asked Ezra. "These are offerings. Believers used to bring them as tribute to their Gods." Nia explained. "So like..bribes? People paying off the Gods to grant them fortune and favor?"

"No, not like that. The offerings are given voluntarily, with no expectations of reward. They're a reflection of gratitude, of thankfulness." Nia smiled. "Huh, that seems wasteful." Ezra mused. "Wasteful?" Nia asked, eyes wide. "I'm just saying...think of how many people this gold could feed. Think of how many sick, and wounded, and vulnerable, it could provide. " Ezra bit his lip in irritation. Nia paused, deep in thought. 

"I do see your point. There is much practical good that could come from this wealth, but there are other concerns here other than the materials. Faith and devotion, for example. It's not enough to live; It's a question of what you live for." Her smile fell when Ezra scoffed slightly. "Tell that to everyone who's starving." Kade looked around, curiously. "Rationally, I know I should be way more scared given we're in an ancient temple and we just found two people brutally murdered..." he broke into a giant grin. "But I still can't really believe this is happening! We're on an adventure! A real adventure! Imagine what an amazing story this'll make!" He danced excitedly. 

"You really love telling stories, don't you Kade?" giggled Nia. Kade's smile dropped slightly, and Ezra's gaze soften. "Well, yeah. Stories are really important to me. They're how I see the world." He hesitated, a somewhat sentimental expression on his face. "I-I was a really sick kid. Bedridden until I was 6, on the brink of death. Stories were all I had, I read every book in town, and when I ran out of books to read, I started to write them." 

"Kade was a precocious kid." Ezra spoke softly. "I always thought that was how I'd  live life. Ezra was the adventurer, the dreamer. I was content to just read about things like that. But maybe I misjudged myself. Maybe I can be someone who goes out there, who has wild adventures, who sees the world." He peeked through his lashes shyly at Ezra who smiled with joy at his brother. "Maybe I be a hero." Ezra's grin grew wider. "Damn right, brother."

"Look! Over there! A passage!" Nia led the way into a vast hall with mostly crumbled ancient statues. "This is a Hall of Gods! It must be hundreds of years old." The group spread out, gazing at the statues. Ezra walked towards the statue of a winged monstrous warrior clutching a spiked club. Nia followed the elf warily. "I don't know this one...It isn't one of the Gods I recognize." Ezra blinked. "You don't know all of the Gods?" "If you go back far enough you'll find different pantheons and interpretations....But I've never heard of one like this." 

Ezra studied the statue's brooding expression, its marble eyes simmering with hate. "I don't like it. It's too realistic." mumbled the elf. "Me neither." Nia shuddered. "Hey!" The two turned towards Kade's shout. "Wanna see something hilarious?" The teen held up an old ceramic vase with a creepy face painted on, and tries to copy its expression, but drops it and winces as it shatters. "Oops." He chuckled nervously. The shards shake and rattle and a spectral shape bursts out, lashing through the air with tendrils of smoking flame. 

Ezra quickly ran over to his brother's side, hand on his sword hilt. The spirit hissed, clearly pissed. "What in the hell is that?" Ezra cried. The creature's body pulsed and swelled, hungry eyes boring into the white haired elf, before hissing angrily. "Wait! I know what this is!" Kade called from behind Ezra. "It's a vorglin! I read about that in the Tome of Beasts that traveling merchant had! It's a spectre that feeds off psychic energy, specifically fear! " he explained. 

"So," Ezra hummed, "What if we feel other strong emotions? Could that drive it away?" "Actually....yes! That just might work! Think about something other than fear! Think of a time when you felt something really intense!" Kade stated. The vorglin hissed, clearly annoyed. Ezra turned his gaze back onto the red spirit, one of his saddest, painful memories coming to mind. The day he and Kade had laid their mother to rest; their father passed a few months earlier and it seemed their mother couldn't bear to be without her love. 

'It was raining, cold and wet. Kade and I were standing side by side, in the field as they buried her, right next to her  love. She and Father were the town's best seamstress and farmer, and they would sorely be missed. I was so heartbroken that day, I shut everyone out, Grenn, Annika and I even shut Kade out for a few weeks. I remember saying goodbye.' Ezra blinked when the vorglin pulses, gorging on your emotions. It lets out a satisfied wheeze, before disappearing into a puff of smoke, dropping something on the floor with a heavy thud. 

Ezra cautiously approached what was on the floor and nudged it with the tip of his boot. "T-This is solid gold!" He exclaimed in surprise. "Then we're lucky! When a vorglin is fed emotions it doesn't enjoy, it transforms them into an elemental discharge! It's usually iron or brass...but gold? Jackpot!" Kade cheered. "Are you saying that orb is the creature's waste?" Nia exclaimed, disgust clear in her face. 

"Heh, it literally craps gold." Ezra snickered, before breaking out into a loud laugh, Kade and Nia laughing along with him. Kade picked up the orb and tucked it into his bag. "Are you all right with is keeping this, Priestess? It's not an offering, and it might be worth quiet a bit." Kade's green eyes shine with glee, and hope. Nia bit her lip before replying hesitantly. "I...suppose." She said finally. 

"Now then, let's head back before Scholar Vash realizes we're gone." Ezra said, leading the younger two to Vash, just as he traced a final rune, and the door swung open with a whoosh! The scholar laughed in triumph. "There you go! A piece of cake, as they say! Nothing to it!" He looked back at Ezra who was hiding a grin. "Thank you for waiting patiently, I do hope it wasn't a bother."  Gold eyes look over at Kade and Nia before looking back at Vash. "Not. At. All." He chuckled. 

Vash gestured ahead, and with a firm grip on his sword, Ezra led the way. "Wait." He murmured lowly. "Does anyone else hear voices?" Knowing his brother's hearing was sensitive, Kade quieted down, and gestured for Nia and Vash to do the same. Ezra motioned for the others to be quite, until Nia spoke up. 

"What is that?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

@imturaxamara @tyrils-star @choicescommunity @bladesappreciationweek #bladesAW

https://bladesappreciationweek.tumblr.com/

[marias-studyblr]

Hey, i'm not sure why i'm telling you this but im really upset and just need to vent. Today my history teacher pinpointed me infront of the whole class (twice) and, long story short, was very persistent with receiving an answer of some sort which i had no idea about. Everybody was staring at me, some were laughing, i felt my face burning honestly all i wanted to do was to run out of the class. As someone with social anxiety i avoid any form of class speaking anyway, but now i cant stop [1]

[2] replaying the events from earlier today and i just feel shit about myself. Im embarrassed that everyone else probably thinks i lack a lot of intelligence and basic knowledge. It’s hard to think when im asked a specific question infront of everyone,it makes me so nervous and my mind goes blank. To everyone this may seem like i’m overreacting but honestly im so upset and im not sure if its normal to feel this way. I dont know how to get over this feeling it’s horrible. I’m so done with school tbh

Hey! You deserve this rant, please whenever you need, I’m here for you!

So it might not seem like it because I’m pretty open in here, but I do exactly what you described. I was seeing myself in your words.

It used to be way worse in the last years of middle school, and in the first years of high school, it got to the point I didn’t really think for myself and all my interactions were based on what the other person wanted to hear or what I thought they would think of me.

Of course it always backfired, because it’s impossible to please everyone at all times, which left me even more unhappy about myself and lead me to more and more mental and physical problems (nothing too serious!). 

I would constantly overthink about particular situations where I was put on the spot at school and cringed over and over again.

It lead to tricky situations, a rough couple of years while I transitioned through that. A lot of hiding in bathroom stalls. And cringy stuff that only I remember by now.

I took way too seriously what other people talked about me, which gave them power. And those people understood it somehow and used it in the wrong way, which made me feel even worse.

I don’t know why. I have a couple of suspicions from my childhood but nothing that completely justifies why I didn’t know how to stand up for myself like most people did.

Looking back I can see how I was innocent and didn’t really understand how everyone, everyone, the students, the teachers, they also had problems and insecurities in their lives. I thought everyone was always better than me when actually we were all the same even with our differences and I had nothing to worry about.

I’m much better now. I’ve learned how to recognize my self-worth, hold myself as an individual. I’m not afraid to look people in the eye, and most importantly live my life for me and not for others.

But I’m not completely secure though. Just the other day I was thinking about this, trying to figure it out. Nowadays, I think my problems come from the huge respect I have for other people. I do this crazy thing: whenever I’m held responsible to someone I get super committed to doing it in the most perfect way possible because I don’t want to disappoint that person, even if it’s a total stranger. And whenever I feel like I’ve disappointed someone, I feel so bad because I just wanted to do it nicely for them. And I know that’s not a bad thing to do, but it comes to such extremes with me, because I overthink it so much.

For example, last friday I realized I forgot to send an email to the librarian to renew my book before 7pm, and I remembered at 10pm. I sent the email but through the night and the whole weekend I felt horrible about it.

It’s not like the social anxiety that I had before, but it’s still some kind of awkwardness that I don’t want to depend on.

So after this detour, let me get to the point. xD

I think we can both agree that we have to be able to stand up for ourselves and to appear stable even in the most embarrassing of situations, both for self-respect, because you don’t owe anything to anyone, you are allowed to make mistakes and be treated fairly, but also because it’s a good thing to have for your future life, you’ll always need to speak under pressure and you need to stop putting yourself through this anxiety everytime you are.

I also understand this is not something you can simply stop doing because it’s irrational. As soon as the moment starts, you get dragged into it and without noticing it your face looks like a tomato emoji.

However, that doesn’t mean you can’t slowly start making a change in your behavior, including practicing the way you present yourself, your posture, the way you talk, controlling nervous tics, answering while making eye contact with teachers and other people without stuttering.

Body language may seem non-important to you at first glance but it’s ALL that matters in social interactions, and this is what helped me overcome that feeling of pure cringe and embarrassment. I just kept practicing and I still do now. I encourage you to start paying attention to how confident people sit and how you sit, how they talk and how you talk. Truly start studying these things, and this is how I improved, it has made my life so much happier, and the biggest difference in my life quality. Truly.

Now, by NO means I’m saying this is going to solve everything overnight. I’ve improved my anxiety progressively and cringe situations still happen to me, but I find them less damaging over time. To finish up, I’m going to tell you an example of a situation of me practicing:

I’m in class, minding my own business. I pay attention to my posture. I sit with my back straight, hands relaxed, body still. I’m not covering my face or bending down. I pay attention to the class. The teacher asks me a question, I can feel my heart rate immediately going up. I focus first on my breathing (inhale and exhale profoundly) and maintaining my posture and quickly go through those physical checks. Even if I’m blushing, I keep eye contact with the teacher and my voice strong all the way through.

This is harder than it seems if you have social anxiety, but this practice really helped me and got me through so much. I still have a lot to overcome but I’ve gotten so many victories already and I want you to have the same, I know you can.

Here are 2 phenomenal Ted Talks that really helped me learn what I just told you about and I encourage you to watch them from beginning to end:

The surprising secret to speaking with confidence - Caroline Goyder

Your body language may shape who you are - Amy Cuddy

So I know this is already pretty long but I still have some stuff that might help you so I want to give it a try.

Confidence comes from within, so self-reflection is always needed. In order to not go too deep on that right now, because that’s a whole other question in itself, I’m going to give you the one piece of practical advice I always give which is recommending Yoga with Adriene, either doing her yoga videos or her meditation ones, or her challenges. Just to keep that positivity flowing in your veins is so important. And if you don’t have a source in your life, I feel like Adriene could be it.

Goals are really important in being confident too, so keeping a bullet journal, or a journal, a vision board, where you write your feelings, your interests, your dreams, might get you through the bad days and give you confidence when you need it the most. I feel like some days thinking about how grateful I am for my family, my home, myself, etc. really gets me through tough feelings I might be experiencing. 

Always share out loud what you are experiencing with your loved ones, with people you trust. Whenever I have feelings bottling up I force myself to spill them to my loved ones because I know no matter how much it embarrasses me to admit them, it always makes me feel better after they comfort me and make me see something differently, and suddenly the incident sounds a little more beatable.

Last thing I want to touch, and I promise, I promise this is the last thing, is those people in your class making you feel inferior. Don’t you shed a tear for them and I mean it. You are the classy one. You are the strong one. You get to keep your head high and be kind to yourself. If someone isn’t compassionate to you, you don’t owe them anything and you have the right to shut them out of your life. You don’t need to keep thinking about them or talk about them. You just don’t do them. You don’t pay attention to what they’re saying about you… they don’t know you. They. Don’t. Know. You. They don’t matter. That doesn’t mean you get to be rude to them, it just means they’re irrelevant. So. With that being said, I hope you understand you are a beam of light, a fucking rock star and you can get through this, you can overcome this school year, and the next one and the next one.

Find the people in your life who matter, who make you feel good. That’s all that matters. Here’s something interesting I read: “Feel bad for people who have the energy to bring others down. Don’t hate them back, feel for them. They are clearly in pain if that’s where they want to spend their energy.” Like I said they’re irrelevant, but you don’t have to be mean back, don’t get inside their game. Be the classy one and always, always, always focus on yourself, live your life.

I honestly want to keep talking for hours. I hope this was enough for you to kick-start a new way of seeing yourself and starting to become happy with who you are. There are so many obstacles in life but positivity is possible, you just have to keep looking for the things in your life that matter, that make you feel good and don’t give up.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to answer this for you and I hope the advice reaches you. ♡ ♡ ♡ lots of love!

[whumppile]

I just found your Spider Man's fics and I gotta say I love your writing style ❤️ Could you do more whump fics of him? Maybe Tony calling him to help them out with anything and then something horrible happens to him? Or maybe have him loosing his powers for a bit? (Like in the 2nd Spiderman movie) Anyways, I'm glad I found your blog with whumpiness all over it ❤️

Aww you’re so sweet, I’m so glad you like them! Lol I love writing whump, I can’t stop hurting the poor kid  hehe this was a good prompt, I really hope you like it! Let me know what you think? I’ll also post it on my ff.net and a03 accounts as “Hold on.”

“You want anything else?” The checkout girl looked supremelybored as she handed Peter his bag of snacks, but he smiled all the same as hetook them.

“No, thanks. I’m all good!”

He may have been Spiderman but he still got hungry.

His senses were usually pretty good, but he’d beendistracted all day, and he didn’t notice the other man come in. He also didn’t noticethe gun he had in his waistband.

He was about to leave the store when his phone rang, and hequickly balanced his snacks in one hand to answer it.

“Hey Mr Stark! I just finished school and I aced thatscience test I was telling you about!”

The older man’s voice was slightly amused, and a littleproud. “That’s great Pete, I told you it would be fine. You know, Cap and Iwere talking and I think it’s time you came on a mission with us.”

Peter attempted to calm his racing heart as soon as thosewords were spoken. A mission? With Iron Man and Captain freaking America?

His voice was embarrassingly high as he replied. “Um, yeahthat sounds cool! You want me to meet you now?”

A crash and a scream drowned out Tony’s reply, and Peterturned in time to see the cashier stuff handfuls of money into a bag, for theman holding a gun to her head. Peter let out a curse, as he ducked behind ashelf of food.

“Shit.”

“Peter, you know your Aunt hates it when you-“

The kid quickly cut him off, crouching down behind the shelfand trying to get a peek at the man with the gun. The check-out girl was crying.

“Tony this store is being robbed.”

There was a pause. “The one you’re standing in?”

“Yeah, but I have my suit in my bag. If I can just get somewhereto change, I can handle it.”

Tony paused again, and Peter was worried he’d tell him tostay out of it, and make a speech about how he wasn’t bullet proof and heshould just wait for the police to get there. But instead he agreed.

“Okay, you got this. But BE CAREFUL, all right?”

Peter could almost jump up and down with excitement, exceptthat would most definitely get him shot. He was about to hang up the phonewhen-

“What are you doing?”

Shit. The man with the gun was now pointing it at Peter, andhe didn’t know what to say.

“Nothing.”

The robber looked panicked, hand shaking as he aimed the gunat Peter’s chest, bag of cash hanging by his side. Peter put his hands up.

“Who are you talking to! Did you call the cops? I can’t haveany cops coming in here!”

Peter flinched back as the man got closer. He smelt awful,and his teeth were rotted and broken. His pupils were blown wide too, whichmade it obvious he was on something. That only made him more dangerous.

“It’s not the cops, it’s…my dad. You don’t have to hurtanyone, why don’t you just put the gun down and we can talk about this?”

Tony’s voice was still coming from the phone, and he soundedworried. Peter kept his eyes on the gunman as he took the phone from his hand.

“Who is this?”

Peter could hear Tony’s furious reply from where he stood,and tried to come up with a plan to get the gun away from the robber.

“If you touch my kid, I swear to god, I will hunt you downand make you pay.”

The robber’s hand dipped just a little as his attention wasdiverted, and Peter saw his opening. He lunged for the gun, getting his fingersaround it before the man had even turned around, and within a second, he wasdisarmed.

Peter aimed the gun at the man, but kept his finger far awayfrom the trigger, as he took his phone back from the surprised junkie.

Tony was still screaming profanities as Peter pressed thephone back to his ear, and the teenager smiled as he cut him off.

“-YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I’LL HAVE THE WHOLE-“

“Tony, it’s fine, I got the gun. And I didn’t even need touse my-“

Peter didn’t really register what the sound was at first. Itechoed through the small store, and left his ears ringing. The cashierscreamed, and the junkie looked like he was about to throw up.

The gun dropped from Peter’s hand as he looked down at hisstomach. There was red seeping outwards, and it burned like nothing he’d everfelt before.

Another voice came from the front of the store, gruff and annoyed.

“I told you to grab the shit and go, why do I have to doeverything myself? Hurry up, leave him.”

The junkie left with the other guy, and the cashiercontinued to scream as Tony started yelling once more, but Peter was frozen.

“Peter? Are you okay? Peter answer me!”

It took a few moments for him to find his voice, long enoughfor both robbers to leave, and when he finally did speak, it came out small andscared.

“T…Tony. I think I’ve been shot.”

His knees hit the floor, and he let out a cry of pain as hecurled on his side on the disgusting tile. It hurt so badly, it was like a hotknife was being pushed into his stomach, and he couldn’t breathe without morepain carving through him.

There was a lot of noise coming through the phone, like enginesand panicked voices but Peter couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pain. Hecould feel his own blood dripping down his side, and the way his shirt stuck tothe wound. He sucked in a ragged breath, closing his eyes against the way ithurt his chest, and tried not to gag on the smell of copper tinging the air.

A sniffle caught his attention,and he opened his eyes to see the cashier standing above him, tears streamingdown her face as she pressed her hands to her mouth. Peter reached towards her,words shaking.

“Are…you o-okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, eyes glued to the hole in his stomachbefore they found the phone still clutched in his hand. Tony was still yelling,begging for Peter to answer him, and the cashier carefully knelt and took thephone from Peters shaking hand.

“Hello?”

“Who is this? Where’s Peter, is he okay?”

The girl’s face crumpled as she began to sob, and Peter justtried to concentrate on breathing.

“They shot him.”

Tony’s voice was strained. “Is he alive?”

The girl nodded before answering verbally. Tony sounded alittle more focused now, and his words came as a command.

“Put me on speaker and let me talk to him, while you findsomething to stop the bleeding.”

She nodded again and did as she was told, putting the phonedown next to Peter’s head as he twitched on the ground. It hurt to move butevery part of him shook from the pain and shock.

“Peter, talk to me kid.”

He forced his words out, hands hovering over his stomach asthey trembled. He knew he had to put pressure on it, but he couldn’t makehimself move.

“H-hey.”

Tony let out a breathy laugh, relieved to hear his voice astires squealed in the background. “Hey. Everything’s going to be okay, I’m onmy way and the police are coming. I’ve already gotten F.R.I.D.A.Y to notify mymed team and they’ll come soon. You just have to stay awake, all right?”

Peter nodded as the cashier came back, holding a bunch oftowels. She knelt beside him and balled them up, pressing them to the bulletwound and making Peter cry out in agony as she profusely apologized.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, but your dad said I had to stop thebleeding!”

Peter couldn’t hear anything else, as she pressed harder andpain filled his mind. His senses were more intense than other peoples, and hecouldn’t block anything out when distracted as he was. The lights were toobright, and there was too much noise from the phone and the cars outside, andhe could feel every millimetre that the bullet moved inside him.

He couldn’t shut any of it out, and the pain was so intense hecould do nothing but scream.

They were lucky that no one from the street came to see whatwas happening, because they couldn’t deal with any normal paramedics and Peter didn’tneed any more sensory input right now.

Tony’s voice came through the phone again, trying to soundsoothing despite how it shook.

“It’s okay, Peter! You’ll be okay, I’m coming. I’m on myway, just hold on for me, buddy.”

The cashier started crying again, pushing down on the towelsas they grew wet. Peter’s head began to swirl, and he noticed her name tag forthe first time. It was hard to read when your eyes don’t want to stay open, buthe was pretty sure it said Anne.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she watched Peter, and shecalled to the phone on the ground as his eyes got heavier.

“He’s falling asleep! And I can’t stop the bleeding, it justkeeps coming! I don’t know what to do!”

The engine on the other end of the phone revved harder andPeter blinked up at the face above him. Tony sounded angry.

“Stay awake, Peter! Just keep pressure on it, I’m almostthere! Peter! Answer me!”

Lights turned into glowing embers, and the face above himbegan to blur as the teenager started to shiver. Why was it so cold?

“No, Peter come on. Stay with me, kid.”

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Peter’s breaths beganto slow, leaving his mouth in noisy pants, and it was getting harder to pull inany air at all. His mouth tasted like copper, and he could feel blood coat hislips as he coughed.

Tony was still waiting for him to say something, and hiswords sounded wet and weak.

“M…Mr Stark? I’m scared.”

A noise like a sob came from the phone. Peter knew he wassupposed to be a hero, and that Spider-Man was supposed to be brave. But he wasin pain, and he knew that if he fell asleep, he might never wake up. All hewanted was Tony to be there; to make him feel safe, and to tell him everythingwould be okay. He felt so alone on that hard floor, with a stranger’s handscoated in his blood, and his only comfort a voice on a phone.

Tony’s voice was strangled, like something had a hand aroundhis throat as he spoke.

“It’ll be okay, Peter. I promise, I’m going to fixeverything, just stay awake. Don’t…don’t give up, you can do this, I know youcan. Keep talking to me. Tell me about that test you had today.”

The world was moving so slowly, and Peter’s eyes wereclosing of their own accord. He was so cold, and so tired. He couldn’t hold onanymore.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes closed, as Tony called for him, and the cashier’s sobbinggrew louder.

Tony was driving as fast as he could, knuckles white on thesteering wheel. He could barely see through the stupid tears in his eyes, buthe continued, needing to get to his kid.

He could hear Peter’s ragged breaths through the phone, andhe could hear when they stopped. It was like his heart suddenly turned tostone, and became a weight in his chest that prevented him from breathing.Because as much as he hated hearing the wet, painful gasps being draggedthrough Peter’s teeth, he hated the silence more. The girl was sobbing soloudly, that Tony could almost pretend it wasn’t true. Of course, Peter wasstill breathing. He had to be.

But they weren’t there, and when he finally pulled up to thetiny store and ran inside, he could ignore it no longer. Peter lay on theground, arms laying at his sides as the crying cashier held bloody towels tohis stomach. There was so much of it, stained all over the girl, and poolingfrom beneath the teenager.

Tony’s hands started shaking as he looked at him. He was sopale, his eyes closed and his soft curls falling back from his forehead. Therewas blood dripping from his mouth and…he wasn’t breathing.

Sirens rang outside as Tony fell to his knees beside theboy, picking up one of his limp hands and holding it in both of his. He was so,so young, he didn’t deserve this.

Tony barely managed to push his words out before a sob tookover him. “Peter? I’m here, I’ve got you now. You’ll be okay. Wake up.”

Those eyes didn’t open, and that chest didn’t rise and fall.He was cold. He was gone.

Help arrived a few seconds later, the med team he’d calledstormed in, shouting things, and taking over, and Tony knew they were there tohelp but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Peter.

Finally, someone pushed him away and he sat on the floor afew meters away, as they tore Peter’s shirt open and attached pads to his chest.He tried to remember how to breathe as he watched Peter’s body arch, seizingfrom the electricity passing through him, before he slumped back to the ground.

He watched them inject things and place wires, careful handsholding Peter’s head still as they shoved a tube down his throat. He didn’t moveuntil they’d strapped Peter down onto a backboard, calling for Tony to comewith them.

“You can follow in your car, Mr Stark. We’ll take himstraight to Avenger tower.”

He watched them take his kid away, and got up to get in hiscar, but stopped as he caught sight of the blood and gauze all over the whitetiles. God, Peter had died on that floor.

He couldn’t look away, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes fromthe horror in front of him. But Peter still needed him, so he made sure thecashier was taken care of before he went to his car, and drove.

………………..

Peter woke to music. It was one of his favourites, and itfilled his mind and helped him swim to the surface of whatever darkness he waslost in. The music lifted, and suddenly he couldn’t just hear things, but feelthem too. He was lying down, with his chest a little raised, and someone washolding his hand.

There were smells too, sharp, and antibacterial which Peterdid not like, but at least he knew where he was now. He’d been in the medicalwing of Avenger tower enough times to recognise it by the smells alone.

His eyes were heavy, and didn’t want to open, but when theydid they were met with a white ceiling and white walls, a soft blue blanketdraped over him, and Tony Stark sitting by his bed.

Tony looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days, and hesmiled when he saw Peter awake.

“Hey, kid. It’s about time you woke up, I almost thought you’dsleep forever.”

The teenager took a second to reply, finding his voice roughand his throat sore.

“You came.”

Tony nodded, and stood to pull Peter’s blankets higher uphis chest, unable to help himself from fretting. It had been touch and go forso long, and he’d waited three days to see the boy’s eyes open again.

“Of course, I did. I’ll always be here when you need me,Peter.”

The kids eyes drooped, and he frowned as if he were about tocry. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I didn’t want to give up but I was soscared and it hurt so bad.”

Tony quickly sat on the edge of the bed, and put a hand onthe boy’s shoulder, eyebrows coming down over his worried gaze. “No, no, it’sokay, I’m not mad Pete. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything’s okay now,you just rest.”

Peter heaved a shaky sigh as he blinked, a stray tearfalling down his cheek.

“I didn’t want to die alone, with a stranger. I didn’t…I didn’twant to be by myself.”

Tony sighed and wiped the tear from that pale cheek, with acareful finger. “You’re not alone, Peter. I won’t leave. Just sleep, okay?”

Peter nodded, finally feeling safe, and let his eyes closeonce more, squeezing Tony’s hand as he fell back into the warm dark.

 (I hope you like it! Also sorry for killing Peter lol I didnt intend on that at first but it kind of happened. Let me know what you think?)

[the-idea-master]

More Au's cause I'm a nerd

The bar was bursting with people as was typical on a Friday night. Young adults flocked in having received pay checks or who were just looking for a great way to end the work week and start the weekend. There were all sorts of people, those who looked like they belonged there, those who seemed completely out of place, and others who came for a good time instead of drinking. Thalia was the one working behind the counter, as comical as it was, she despised alcohol yet it was one of the few jobs she somewhat enjoyed. She could at least watch from afar as the crowds hurried in and out. There were certainly interesting people to look at. It wasn't as bad as one would think. Sighing, Thalia wiped down the counter as a customer left and picked up the glass to clean it out. She caught sight of a girl at the end of the bar tapping her fingers slowly with her chin rested in her hand. She didn't look like the type to drink much. Setting the glass aside Thalia made her way over to the silent customer. "Hey." The girl looked up almost without interest. "What's up? You want anything?" "No I'm good. Just thinking." The corners of the girl's mouthed twitches up ever so slightly. "Alright but if you need anything let me know. I'm not as scary as I look...promise." Thalia gave her a soft smile and went about her business. Thalia knew what it was like to want to be somewhere where the noise could drown out unwanted thoughts and you could just think. About anything and everything, whatever you wanted. The seconds ticked by and turned into minutes and Thalia was forced to turn people out for the night, or at least the ones who'd had a bit too much to drink. As the crowd thinned Thalia noted that the girl remained seated in the same spot as before. Sighing she made her way back over. "Whatever you're thinking about must be pretty important." "Huh?" The girl looked up her eyes widening as she came b ack from whatever alternate world she had been stuck in. "I said you must be thinking about something important." Thalia repeated patiently. "Yeah you could say that." The girl laughed lightly and her eyes fluttered about as if she was nervous. "Well I'm closing up so..." The girl's eyes lit up with realization. "Oh. Oh I'll go sorry." She made a move to stand up but Thalia rested a hand on her arm. "I'm saying I have a bit of time so if you wanna talk feel free. I've heard all sorts of things so don't even think about being embarrassed." Thalia laughed and the girl sat back down giving her a thankful smile. "It's...personal." The girl shook her head as if she couldn't believe why she was even talking to the bartender. "Tell you what. I'll tell you one personal thing about me first." Thalia offered. The girl tucked her dark hair behind her ear and nodded in agreement. "I actually hate alcohol but I work here because...between you and me, it's amazing what kind of people walk around here. I mean I don't judge but like I could invent a people watching game. People bingo. " The girl laughed louder this time and Thalia couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. "Sounds interesting. One more thing. What's your name?" Thalia didn't hesitate to reply. "Pretty." "I guess. What's yours?" Thalia asked raising an eyebrow. "Reyna." Thalia nodded. "Well then Reyna, what's on your mind?" Thalia watched her new acquaintance think for a moment before speaking. "Trying to figure out my life and what I'm going to do with myself. Mom's gone, Dad's gone, and my older sister can barely hold a job." She rushed the words out but let out a sigh afterwards like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Let me let you in on a little secret." Thalia leaned forward so her elbows rested on the counter. Reyna leaned in curiously. "Life is a piece of shit. But it's about perspective, see it how you want." "Those are some wise words for a bar tender. The shit part and all." Reyna smiled. "How'd you get stuck here anyways?" "Didn't finish school. People tell you that kind of stuff won't get you anywhere but I like what I do. Decent money. I don't need much. I spent most of it on my brother's education." Thalia shrugged indifferently. "That's pretty honorable of you." Reyna mused. "Maybe. Maybe not." Reyna regarded the link dressed bar tender. She was pretty on her own way, but her eyes were the best trait. They complimented her entire appearance. They were the most expressive part of her except for the lopsided and charismatic grin. "What would you do if you had a choice for a job?" Reyna asked after a moment. "I don't know. I never put much thought into it. I wasn't particularly good in school being dyslexic and having ADHD made it hard. Had to take care of my mom and brother while my dad ditched us. I never got the opportunity for good things." Thalia sighed sitting on the edge of the counter in front of Reyna. "That sucks." Reyna gave her a sympathetic look. "Yeah. But you've got options don't you?" Reyna couldn't help but smile at the other girl's hopeful expression as if she genuinely cared. "Yeah. I have school to finish. I'm hoping to go to law school but it's a lot of money." Reyna sighed shaking her head. "You got a good paying job?" Thalia asked. "Not really. I do what I can when I can but school just weighs me down a lot." Thalia could hear the tiredness in her voice. The truth was she had more money than she let on. Her Dad had left a significant amount of money for her on a potential college fund. That wasn't going to happen. "Maybe I can help." Reyna watched as the girl disappeared and came back a while later with a slip of paper in her hand. "This was all supposed to be for me but I can't put it to use, I'd rather it go to someone who is going to use it for good." Reyna's eyes widened when she realized what it was. It was a check for a large amount of money. "No I can't take this are you crazy?!" "My dad left it for my college fund but I don't need it just promise me one thing." Reyna nodded vigorously. "Promise me you'll be a good lawyer." "I promise." Reyna smiled brightly and leaned over the counter hugging Thalia tightly. "This is amazing you have no idea how much this means." "Well, I'm glad it made a difference. Guess I did something good in my life for once." Thalia would close up that night and Reyna would leave bursting with new hope and energy. Thalia would smile the rest of the night for once feeling at peace with herself. ------------ The Carmel skinned woman walked down the street hands tucked in a winter coat and knit hat on her head. She turned sharply around a corner passing quickly through the street lights to the little place at the end of the street. It was exactly as she remembered it. Opening the door slightly Reyna peeked inside and her eyes immediately settled on the bar. Sure enough the girl was there, the one she remembered from all those years ago. She regretted never getting back to her or keeping in touch. Reyna sighed and walked inside seating herself at the counter. She studied Thalia from afar and if it was even possible she was even more attractive since the last time they'd had an encounter. Thalia smiled to whoever she was serving and glanced down at Reyna's end of the counter. Confusion morphed her features before it was replaced with surprise and then a fond smile. Thalia made her way over to the familiar face that now belonged to an older and more attractive woman. "So, did you come here to think about the universe again?" "As a matter of fact I didn't." Reyna mused. "Anything I can help with? After all these years?" Thalia asked quirking an eyebrow. "Well I just wanted to let you know that I graduated school." Thalia smiled brightly and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. "And I'm looking for a place to stay. See it's this rather big place, to big for myself in fact. I figured it be nicer to have another occupant." "And you're asking me?" Thalia lagged shaking her head. "Why?" "Consider it a way to make up for what you did for me. You helped a lot. Besides I'll need an assistant." Reyna spoke coyly. "Why is that?" Thalia questioned. "I managed to acquire the funds for a law firm." Thalia's eyes widened once more and Reyna smiled at the expression of pride on the punk's face. "I hope you know I'm not a law type." Thalia replied. "Doesn't matter." Reyna insisted. "Take it or leave it." Thalia smirked and thought for a brief moment before looking around the place she'd been stuck in for years now. "Tell you what. I'll take you up on that offer under one condition." "Whatever you want." "Go on a date with me." Thalia said flatly. It was Reyna's turn to look surprised but the expression quickly vanished and she nodded. "Deal. Besides you're the cutest punk I've seen around." Thalia laughed at Reyna's remark. "Thank you. Stick around and we can have this place to ourselves once the hours end." Reyna's eyes glistened with mirth. "Wouldn't mind if I do." With that Thalia went back to her business unable to believe that after all this time what she'd done had actually paid off in more ways than one. More importantly however she was surprised that her actions hadn't just changed some unfortunate girl's life but her own. Perhaps things did have away of coming back around.