#Frozen sperm??? Really???? Like come on that's so stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-firebird69 · 8 months

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We are going to watch John remillard big people in town for forgiveness. And he's going to go around saying he was wrong and saying you didn't do it right after a few minutes he'll start to try and say our son did it and they'll tell him to get lost then he'll get to talk to him like he already is he's doing it already and he just will not stop this stupid ass shit

-there's a few things people should know the first is he's actually on his way out of many other jobs on Earth and it makes a huge difference because you can't get him out of this place or running for president if he's still got power. That is happening and it's happened quite a bit.

-something Trump is not aware of it's not like a massive giant guy who's into it though even goes after his son quite a bit. Tommy Allen is huge into it. Someone with the Euphrates and the Tigris meet is a big bucket of giants is a huge amount of hormones there and they collect it and they use it and they have Giants standing guard. You serve 500,000 a day and grow them to a mile each another area they're growing Giants you should be aware of it's part of the threat keeping the ships up are the islands and our son mentioned it and the fagus poking around like a amateur and lots of people talk for some reason each island has a huge amount of hormones. It's a giant amount. And yes it is why John remillard was jerking off in front of the cops. It is symbolic okay because our son made the monsters and the headless horseman is monster. And put us on high alert underneath each island is a massive pile of Frozen scrimazole and we have been tapping into it in a controlled manner to grow more it's the same under the Mediterranean Sea it's very deep. Been wondering how you can go through the middle and come out the other side of the ship it's kind of a trick the ships are in an angle or they wouldn't be able to take off we're going to publish now

Thor Freya

And by the way John remillard wants to go down there as it is like spiced ham spice to him even though he doesn't like giants he likes to be Giant and it is like eating spice

Zues

I knew it was a f**** but that's incredible

Hera

You're a darling Trump the real darling of starlet I got to tell you this is really worth something if you eat some of that cream I'm going down there and eat some myself. I'd like to be huge like galactose and have superpowers he says it might kill me I'm going to try it and tomorrow or less kill off the spremazoa or it's going to eat through your stomach lighting with ease and he says that too they're very sturdy each and every one of them

Dan

I'm more or less really curious as to if it's there we went down there and people growing really fast and that's the hormone and it makes sense what are you saying is you're taking like a sperm bath or really hormones from sperm and it's disgusting it's colitis the smell not colitis it's coletus. So I guess we're going to go down there and take a look

Bja

You f** bja we're right behind you then and a friend is laughing hysterically I guess there could be a question

Preston

I don't want to go over this bja we're using you as a forward person has nothing to do with other this dirty s*** you always talk about you little f**** I get you a little f**** ass out there and go get your pile of whipped cream

Joe

I guess I might have to go take a look he doesn't want me to cuz it's dangerous and he doesn't know how big the sperm are it could be huge at the size of a one of those fish with a sponge area is

Ken

Is a little bit of shrinkage it's only about 4 or 500 miles when erect it's like 1200 miles long and you bet you we would do it oh yeah he's controlling that one and I'm controlling the lady we had kids we don't know where the hell they are though since yeah we do that's enough for me

Hera

I don't remember any of that you miss was a blur you mess is a blur you Mass University of Massachusetts you idiots

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lewishamil10n · 3 years

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foreman/chase headcanons!! feel free to reblog and add your own

they get together some time in late s8

in my head it's just after chase leaves ppth and foreman is like Oh. why do i miss him

thirteen has been expecting it since before either of them even acknowledged their feelings

house has a vague idea but is too preoccupied with wilson to really care

taub finds out because he catches foreman smiling at his phone while texting and is like Something Is Up

(his first thought was that foreman had caught a disease affecting his cognitive processes hence the smiling)

cameron finds out when she sees them holding hands at house's "funeral" and her brain stops working for a whole minute

chase actually gets along really well with foreman's family

his dad specifically, but also the rest of them

foreman's not too pleased about it

"chase i've been avoiding them for twenty years and now you're telling me you've accepted dinner invitations?!!"

"your aunt promised to make brownies!"

foreman's family practically adopts chase and in the end foreman has no choice but to accept it

he complains a lot but he's secretly glad because now chase has an actual family that WANTS him

he almost changes his mind when marcus decides to befriend chase and tell him all of his embarrassing childhood stories, though

foreman always carries an epipen with him just in case chase has an allergic reaction and goes into anaphylactic shock

he also makes sure there's no trace of strawberries in his apartment even though he actually really liked them

foreman takes chase shopping because he finally gets tired of chase's ugly ass ties and mismatched sweaters

foreman acts all cool and composed at work but literally everyone and their mother knows that he can't say no to chase

it becomes unofficial hospital policy that if you want something from foreman, you bribe chase with candy to go ask on your behalf

this is how the nurses lounge gets a better coffee machine and the pediatric department ends up with an honest-to-god bouncy castle

chase still asks foreman for help on cases sometimes especially if he's stuck with a differential

while foreman asks chase's advice in dealing with annoying people and stupid policies

since foreman has worked under house and knows that sometimes you need to take risks to get a diagnosis, he goes easier on chase and often helps him find ways to do his job without getting sued

one day chase comes over to foreman's apartment with his cat and his twenty plants and simply never leaves

"oh i wasn't aware i'd asked the cat and a bunch of cacti to move in too?"

"we're a package deal, okay"

chase is the one that traps the bugs and puts them outside

foreman is the one that opens the tight jars

their idea of a nice night in is foreman playing video games while chase reads something next to him

or they both read journal articles and ask each others' opinions

foreman is afraid of chase's cat and the cat knows it

it is the fattest ugliest cat in the world and it's chase's baby so foreman puts up with it

chase hogs the covers at night while foreman is the one with cold feet

all of foreman's hoodies live in chase's closet now

foreman proposes and chase half-seriously asks if he's got an ex's sperm frozen somewhere

"what? no, i don't think so"

"then okay, i'll marry you"

they fight over who gets to have thirteen as best man

taub is really excited to plan a huge wedding and ends up plotting their murders when they tell him they eloped

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS WITHOUT TELLING ME?"

"we had a free lunch and you were in surgery"

adams plans a nice tasteful celebration so that taub's cake samples don't go to waste, but then park brings in a mariachi band and the rest is history

#house md #eric foreman #robert chase #choreman #im guessing that's the tag now #foremanchase #[blog tag]#naila.txt #anyway feel free to rb and add your own!#we def need more choreman content on this site #non spn

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moshymosh · 4 years

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The Switch pt. 2

A/N: This is pt two to the switch everyone seemed to like the first part, I'm curious to see what kind of mood boards come out of this. Send me some, please. Enjoy.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Summary: One woman’s dream and one man’s drunken mistake. Will things turn out ok or will things go downhill.

|Previous part | Next part|

Bucky looks at her with a mix of shock and confusion. "So what are you going to use like a service and read resumes? I heard from Nat that all that stuff is crap." Bucky is still in shock, trying to wrap his head around exactly what she is asking of him.

Bucky stutters for a bit as his mind, and hopeless heart conjured up images of Y/N pregnant with his child, with a little toddler who looks like the perfect mix of him and Y/N. "I mean, what about my sperm? What's wrong with it?"

Y/N looks at him, shocked that he would bring up the topic of him being the donor. "Your sperm?"

"It works." Bucky shrugged as he nodded his head.

Y/N stuttered for a bit. "I'm sure you have killer sperm."

"You're damn right." Bucky mutters.

"But you know, we're best friends. Isn't that weird? That'd be weird." Y/N said while tilting her head when she looked at him.

Bucky tried to hide the hurt he felt at her response, looking at the floor to ceiling windows behind her tv. "It is weird. You're right, ok."

Bucky was still reeling from the conversation; he had with Y/N it had been about a week ago. At this time, everyone in the team knows her plans. He sighs, sitting next to Steve on the couch. It was just Sam, Steve and him. Everyone else was either out on a mission, working in the lab, or shopping.

Bucky relays the whole story to the guys, earning a few startled looks. Bucky grits his teeth in annoyance, knowing Sam was about to say something stupid. Steve must have noticed too and tensed up beside Bucky.

"She wouldn't know good sperm if it slapped her in the face." Sam started, causing both Steve and Bucky to groan and flop back into the couch dramatically, knowing Sam wasn't about to shut up anytime soon. "She put you in the friendzone sixteen months ago. You had your chance. You went all 'Bucky' on her and doomed it."

Sometime throughout Sam's dramatic monologue, Steve and Bucky left. Sam noticed he was alone when he finished speaking, "Man, Fuck you guys." Sam muttered.

Bucky walked into Y/N's apartment the next day, hearing her slight humming coming from the loft.

"Hey, doll." Bucky said as he climbed the spiral stairs leading to her makeshift studio. Standing behind her while she sat on her art stool, he admired her current art piece, the sunset over a New York City skyline. "Amazing." Bucky said as he watched her continue to paint.

"Hey, Bucky boy." She said, leaning back into his chest slightly after she jumped in surprise. She turned and looked up at him. "Hey, so here's where I'm at."

Bucky moved to sit on the armchair behind him because her looking up at him with her innocent look had his mind going places and his heart doing cartwheels in his chest. After schooling his thoughts, he smiled at her.

"So I want a donor I can meet. Do you know? I want someone whose eyes I can look into. You can't do that at a sperm bank, you know?" She said, watching Bucky adjust his position in the chair to get comfortable. "I also want it fresh. I don't really want it frozen." Y/N shook her head in disgust.

"Frozen's so refreshing, though. I mean, it should be since it's going up your pussy. It should be refreshing." Bucky rambled as he scratched the back of his neck, nervously. Y/N giggled at his response.

Bucky sighed and looked back at her. "So, what qualities would you be shopping for?"

Y/N taps her chin in thought. "Sense of humor that's most important."

Bucky shook his head and chuckled. "Why do women always say that a sense of humor is still important? We always know that's a lie." Bucky looks back at Y/N, who was giving him a bitch-face look.

Y/N let out a chuckle at his face. "Ok, then, height."

"No." Bucky said, shaking his head in defiance.

"But you know, funny height. A funny height." Y/N said, turning on her stool back to her painting and continuing where she left off. They spend the next couple hours in companionable silence. Bucky sat and listened to the sounds she made as she painted. Sounds that could soothe his broken soul.

The next two weeks flew by in a flash. Bucky was gone on a mission with Steve for one of those weeks. Then he was busy trying to gather intel with Natasha from the files they recovered from the mission the second week. Y/N was busy looking for a donor, she limited down her list down to one with the help of her brother, Natasha, and Wanda.

"Let's throw a party. An insemination party." Wanda suggested, receiving bitch-face looks from Y/N and Nat as they sat in Y/N's living room.

Y/N dropped her facial expression and shrugged. "I mean, I guess, but don't call it that please." Y/N said as she put her head in her hands.

"Ok. That way, it'll be fresh, and we can get Doctor Cho to be there, so it'll be done right away." Nat said, slowly getting on board with the whole party idea.

"That settles it. Party planning time." Wanda says, clapping her hands in excitement. Little did Y/N know that Nat and Wanda were coming up with an equally embarrassing name for the party.

#bucky barns x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #seb stan x you

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rosecorcoranwrites · 4 years

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Thoughts on Twists

Every story ever told can be broken down into three parts. The beginning. The middle. And the twist!

—Goosebumps (2015)

Jordan Peele’s Us and M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village Spoilers ahead, so read with caution!

There's something about a good plot twist: the shock, the awe, the feeling of having your world turned upside down. A good twist might make you see a character in a new light, or rethink everything you thought you knew about the setting. A bad twist, on the other hand, can ruin an otherwise decent story. Bad twists feel cheap and stupid, and make what might have been good, even great stories into muddled and unbelievable messes. So what makes a twist good or bad?

First, some preliminaries: what is a twist? Although we all use the phrase "twists and turns", I submit that a plot twist is a little different than a plot turn. A turn might be defined as the plot taking a completely unexpected direction, like "Wow! Who would have thought that guy would end up becoming the villain!". On the other hand, a twist is when we learn an unexpected fact about the world or a character that had been there, secretly, all along: "Wow! Who would have thought that guy was the villain the whole time!".

Since we're on the subject, it should be noted that twist villains are not the only type of twist there is. Nor are twist endings, the quote from Goosebumps notwithstanding. Though twists tend to occur towards the latter part of narratives, they can be sprinkled throughout. I would love to give some examples of this, but one of the problems with talking about good twists is that you don't want to give them away, and talking about them almost invariably does just that.

Obviously, a twist ought to be unpredictable, but a predictable twist does not make a bad story. Erased, which is one of four perfect stories in existence, has a twist you can see coming from a mile away, and yet it remains perfect. Why? First, because the story doesn't hinge on the twist, for one thing; it's cat and mouse, so it's okay if we know who the cat is. Second, a twist that is predictable isn't really a twist. I mean, it is but it isn't; it's one of those weird gray areas of trying to be the thing, but failing. But that's okay. A failed attempt at being a twist is, in my mind, not the same thing as a properly executed but just plain bad twist. But maybe we're getting into the weeds a bit.

I would say that a bad twist is any twist that is not a good twist, and a good twist follows certain rules: it must be believable; it must make sense in retrospect; and, for double twists, the second one must make the story better as a whole. Basically, good twists are satisfying, and bad twists aren't, usually because they break one of the three rules.

Rule 1: A twist must be believable!

By this, I mean believable in whatever world the writer has set up. If supernatural elements are established, or at least hinted at, a supernatural twist is fine. If, however, there is not one hint or peep of the supernatural throughout the story, but it turns out that the killer is a wizard, or an alien, or a ghost, it's awful. Sure, it's unexpected, but in the dumbest way possible. Good twists should be like slight-of-hand; the audience should delight at being fooled. Unbelievable twists feel more like being lied to by someone who's really bad at lying. They feel like an insult.

And don't think that introducing random supernatural elements into a story is the only way to be unbelievable. Sometimes, making a "real world" twist can feel just as unrealistic. I'll say as little as I can, because it's still less than a year old, but I think that Jordan Peele's Us pulls this. I was really excited for that movie when I saw the trailers, and then I read the synopsis and got even more excited, because I hoped that he would try a certain twist. And he did, and I think it's brilliant! But he went for another twist as well (the one that occurs first in the film, actually), which kind of ruins the whole movie. Why? Because that first twist is logistically, financially, geographically, and hereditarily unbelievable (in particular, (SPOILER, obviously): it's idiotic that the child doppelgängers are the offspring of the cloned parents, and not clones of the normal kids. Even if the clone parents had sex at the exact same time as the normal parents, the sperm and egg that happen to unite would be totally random, even accepting the ridiculous idea that the mother clone would ovulate at the same time as the normal mother. Never mind the rest of the absurdity of a vast government(?) clone experiment that just leaves an unlocked exit in a beachside funhouse). It took what could have been a great movie and made it seem fake and silly. I know I wrote a whole post about not being harsh on the plot holes in horror movies, but this particular twist is based on real things in the real world, not monsters or spirits or what have you (and seriously, a mysterious, ever-changing-yet-always-present carnival funhouse that inexplicable spits out doppelgängers from time to time is way scarier than a poorly run scientific experiment). It strains the suspension of disbelief. It's too much to take. Quite simply, I don't buy it. And a good twist should never make the audience say "I don't buy it."

Rule 2: A twist must make sense in retrospect!

The best twists are those that are staring you in the face the whole time. Once you finally learn the truth, you should be able to look back and say, "I can't believe I didn't see that coming!". As an example of such a twist is M. Night Shyamalan's The Visit. Every time I watch that movie with someone who hasn't seen it, it strikes me just how obvious the twist is, and yet no one ever guesses it.

Bad twists tend to come out of left field, or else don’t mesh with what came before. They feel like the writers are cheating by not giving you anything to go off of, but still want you to cheer for them anyway. Hans being the villain in Frozen is one such twist. His early actions in the film don’t jive with his take-the-throne scheme, specifically in that he stops Weselton’s men from killing Elsa in her palace. Why does he do this? The only reason I can think of, given that he was just going to have her executed later anyway, is so the audience wouldn’t know he’s a villain. It’s not in character and doesn't make sense when you learn what he was eventually planning.

Part of making sense in retrospect is having clues to the twist throughout the rest of the story. These might be seemingly unimportant, mundane details that the audience passes over, or they might be red herrings that seem to indicate one thing but actually mean something quite different. Either way, once the twist is revealed, those clues should become obvious. The Ace Attorney games excel at this. There was a case I was playing, and, after finally eliminating one of the two main suspects, I was stumped. If it wasn’t one of those two, who was it? I pulled up the cast list and went one by one, slowly eliminating the impossible until I was left with one improbable suspect. “No,” I thought, “it can’t be them. But, it can’t be anyone else, so…Wait!” Like puzzle pieces falling into place, everything suddenly fit. That person not only had to be the killer because no one else could, it made sense for them to be the killer given all of their past actions.

A twist that I’m not a fan of is the one in And Then There Were None, by Agatha Christie. Before you grab your pitchforks and torches, let me explain for those people who have never read the book: ten strangers meet on an island and are killed, one-by-one, for their past misdeeds. While the book is entertaining and is the granddaddy of all such whittling-down-the-cast who-dun-its, the twist itself is kind of… meh. Yes, the killer’s motive makes sense, but there weren’t any clues or details one could look back on and say, “Ah! Of course! I was blind not to see it!” The little twist as to how they accomplished some of the killings was clever, but as for their identity, well… I feel like Christie could have chosen any of the ten and done the same thing with them. Nothing pointed to that one person in particular being the killer, and it made the whole twist a lot less satisfying.

Rule 3: Double twists must make the story better as a whole!

Double twists are those where one twist comes after another. The second twist can either build on the first one, or subvert it. As an author, I can tell you that double twists are a nice way of covering your bases, because even if someone sees the first twist coming, they usually won’t see the second one. As a reader, I’m crazy about double twists. And yet, people either misuse them by having them make the story worse or don’t use them to make the story better. Basically, a bad double twist is one of those that breaks rule 1 or 2. Sometimes, though, a really good double twist can salvage a single twist that breaks either of these rules, assuming that the story isn't too far gone at that point (Jordan Peele, I'm looking at you).

Let’s take at movie with a double twist, and see if it works or not: M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village. Shyamalan is quite...something, in that he soars to heights and sink to depths in terms of quality. On a scale of The Happening to The Visit (I don’t acknowledge the existence of The Last Airbender or After Earth; they're not Shyamalanian enough), I would say that The Village is just above Lady in the Water but below Glass. Don’t get me wrong, there are parts of The Village that were quite scary and interesting, but its twists? They're just not doing it for me.

SPOILERS, I guess, but this movie's been out for fifteen years, and the twists are nothing great, so, here we go: it turns out the monsters in the woods are actually villagers in suits who deter people from leaving the community, and—double twist—the movie takes place in the modern day, but the village’s inhabitants experienced loss and crime in regular society and formed their weird community in the woods in order to raise their children peacefully. This second twist was neither believable nor hinted at. For example, why do all the adults—all of whom presumably grew up in normal society—use a stilted, old-timey speech (other than to fool the audience on time period)? Also, though we know the elders have secrets they keep in black boxes, we’re never shown even a hint that these might be things from the modern era until the ending. Why not have a full color photo, or an anachronistic piece of technology? The audience would think these were goofs or sloppy filmmaking, until the reveal that it was all part of a carefully set-up twist.

I’m not a fan of the fake-monster twist either, because I’m always in favor of supernatural elements, but it’s not bad in and of itself. If it were the only twist in the film, it would be an okay movie. But that second one, well…It doesn’t make the film better—I think most people would agree it makes it worse—so it’s not a good double twist. How would I fix it? Add one more twist. The blind girl goes into the woods to get medicine, and is attacked by the murderer in a monster suit, just like in the original movie. Only this time, rather than luring him into a hole, she is saved by another creature. “Who’s that?” the audience wonders, until it rips the murderer apart with its claws and then gallops away on all fours or climbs up a tree or something, because—plot twist—there really are monsters out there in the woods! Like I said, I’m always in favor of the supernatural (Besides, the elders do say that they based the creatures off local legends). At this point, you can keep the modern-day twist or not (if you do, I would move the monster fight to after she’s coming home with the medicine). This new twist wouldn’t make it the best movie ever or anything, but it would make it a little better, a little scarier, a bit more unsettling. If the modern setting stays, this twists hits home the already-present-but-somewhat-undercut message that you can try to make a perfect, planned life, but there are still things out there you can't control. I think it would make for a more satisfying story over all.

And that, right there, is what should be at the heart of any twist (or, dare I say it, any story element): satisfying the audience. No one goes into a book or a movie or a game wanting to be lied to or cheated. We want to be dazzled, amazed, maybe even fooled but in a way that we can appreciate. We want a twist that will knock our socks off and change everything we thought we knew, while being right in front of us the whole time. But, honestly, we'll settle for a not-so-mind-blowing twist that at least satisfies our need for a good story. Heck, we'll even take a predictable twist, as long as the story itself is good. Why? Because surprising your audience is a bonus, but satisfying them is a necessity. And that is what a good twist does.

#plot twists #plot twist #us spoilers #us spoiler #the village spoiler #the village spoilers #the village #m. knight shyamalan #jordan peele #jordan peele's us #what a twist #twist ending #writelr #writeblr #twist villain

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sburbian-sage · 5 years

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Hearing sketchy voices from an unknown source. Any advice on identifying WHICH spooky entity's trying to screw with me?

Oh this will be a fun guessing game. There could be so many things doing that.

HORRORTERROR. I don’t mean to doubt your intelligence so blatantly, but you haven’t been messing around with any eldritch artifacts, have you? Things that glow purple or somehow black, stuff with tentacles and eyeballs, named with more apostrophes than letters? If so, you could be getting influenced by the Song of the Horrorterrors. It starts with incomprehensible broodfester speaking into your ear, and then you start puking up tentacles and blasting your friends with rays of pitch blackness. To prevent Horrorterror corruption, break anything that looks like it crawled out of an HP Lovecraft novel and exercise more caution than an HP Lovecraft protagonist.

ANGEL. The lesser known type of corruption. Instead of being associated with eldritch things, it’s associated with holy things. It’s still bad though, because those horrible screeching flying sperm from the Underworld are communing with you all the same. The sketchy voices here would be the Choir of the Angels. There’s not much difference except for how you go insane, the aesthetics thereof, and that you’re blasting your friends with rays of holy light. Some things to look out for here include most religious paraphernalia. I’ve heard that Bibles cause Angelic Corruption, but not if “Angels” are referred to as “Messengers”, so try copying a new version before you toss it. And be aware that Angelic Corruption & Horrorterror Corruption cancel each other out.

PSIONIC. You don’t seem like a Troll, so either you’ve got a mixed-species session, or one of your players knows PSI. Psionics/PSI is basically mind powers, as I’m sure most media you’ve watched Pre-Entry will tell you. Powers include mindblasts, telekinesis, pyrokinesis/sick fires, and among a myriad of others, telekinesis. It could be that one of your players is trying to mess with you, or possibly commune. Try contacting each of them and clearing up the issue. It could also be that they’re communing unintentionally, or it’s a different, less benevolent entity trying to gain hold over your psyche. If the former, find out who it is, and help them control their power. Look up a FAQ or something. If the latter, steel your mind and try to stop the influencer.

INVISIBLE PLAYER. Related to the above, but one of your players could be invisible. This could be a result of Psionic powers, Void, a different Aspect, or some item they Alchemized. Tell them that you know it’s them, and that they got you really worried. If they’re a good friend, they’ll stop and apologize. If they’re a shitty friend (HINT this will probably be it) then try hearing where the voice is coming from, estimate where crotch-level is, and begin kicking in that direction, at that height.

INVISIBLE/PSIONIC UNDERLING. Related to both ideas above. An Underling could have figured out invisibility, or have Psionic capability. If it’s a Telepathic Underling, I don’t think you have to worry too much. They’re too fucking stupid to bend your mind. Imps just make weird squeaking noises, Ogres roar, Basilisks hiss, and Liches make horrific whispering sounds but they’re otherwise harmless. If one of them figures out how to mentally attack you, then proceed as the “hostile psionic entity” advice I gave. If it’s invisible, then listen and attack the source. If you suspect there’s an invisible Lich, then exercise more caution. Those guys never shut up, so you’ll be able to track them down in no time. But they’re mid-tier enemies, and could be dangerous. I’ve heard cases of Liches with paralytic grips. Nothing says NOT FUN like getting frozen and kicked to death in your own home.

#sburb #replay value au #Anonymous

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truthbeetoldmedia · 5 years

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Shameless 9x08 "The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Alibis" Review

Shameless has just come off of a hiatus, previous to which it was announced that two beloved Gallaghers would be leaving the show. Cameron Monaghan, who played Ian Gallagher, revealed via social media that 9x06 would be his last episode, while Emmy Rossum, who plays Fiona Gallagher, announced that she would be leaving the show after the ninth season wraps.

This double-whammy has left many fans, including myself, wondering where the show will go from here. Ian and Fiona have played extremely pivotal roles in the story that has unraveled for the past eight years, with Ian also providing refreshing LGBTQ+ representation as a gay man whose coming out left him unequivocally accepted by his family.

Though Ian got the happy ending so many of his fans had been hoping for, reunited with his on and off again boyfriend Mickey Milkovich (albeit in prison), Fiona was left in a much more unsettling place at the midseason point.

In the first episode of the second half of the season, we see that Fiona isn’t going to have an easy time getting out of the hole she’s found herself in — and that she’s ignoring that she’s in said hole altogether by numbing herself with a steady diet of vodka and cigarettes.

To recap, Fiona has just lost the apartment building she owned as well as another building she attempted to invest in, along with thousands of dollars. And on top of all this, her boyfriend Ford was already married.

However, because she’s a Gallagher, Fiona can’t sulk over her bad luck. She pulls herself up by the bootstraps, steals some of Frank’s vodka that’s sitting on the floor next to where he’s passed out, and goes about her day.

When she arrives at Patsy’s, the only source of revenue she has left, she finds that customers have been sticking their gum on the undersides of the diner tables. In her hungover or perhaps still-drunk state, she takes her frustration out on the customers. Though her employees are worried about her antics, they say nothing and try to keep the place up and running as Fiona comes in and out, visiting the nearest corner store for a little vodka pick-me-up at lunch.

Meanwhile, Debbie discovers that Fiona hasn’t been paying any of the Gallagher household bills when their power suddenly shuts off. When Fiona doesn’t answer her calls, she decides to come up with a fabricated sob story for each company. It works, though she later tells Carl that the squirrel fund is back, since Fiona no longer has the means to take care of all their expenses.

Carl and his new girlfriend Kelly find an odd side business in racketeering in order to pitch in, hoarding shared electric scooters and charging locals to get them back. Kelly then discovers that if they recharge the bikes and return them each day, they can make some easy money.

Carl also wins what he thinks is an innocent bet with Frank, unaware that Frank is up to his usual antics. Frank, willing to do anything for money and comfort, just wants to appease his mentally unstable (but rich) girlfriend Ingrid. So when she reveals to him that she’s frozen her eggs and wants him to impregnate her, Frank perhaps sees this as his golden ticket out of the Southside and away from his own “ungrateful” kids. However, his sperm count is dismal, so he tricks Carl into providing a usable sample to claim as his own. Unsurprisingly, it takes, and Ingrid finds herself pregnant with not one, not two, but six new little Gallaghers.

Across town, Kev and V have decided to foster a 12 year old boy named Santiago. Soon after bringing him to the Alibis with them, they discover that he’s been separated from the rest of his family as they were seeking asylum in the states. While Kevin wants to keep the child, mostly because he has a good throwing arm, Veronica insists they must reconnect him with his family.

All the while, Lip seems a bit lost. His new fling Tami is trying to convince him to get an apartment, even surprising him with a visit to a potential one on his lunch break. However, Lip knows he doesn’t have the money for this. While he tells Tami they can turn the Gallagher basement into a private space for them, Tami is visibly unimpressed and starts to pick apart every aspect of the Southside home. While Lip (and Debbie) don’t take any of it, it’s clear that he and Tami live very different lives and are having trouble meeting in the middle.

This episode left me with one particular burning question: What will become of Fiona? Though her family clearly cares about her and are stepping up to keep themselves and her afloat, it cannot be ignored that Emmy Rossum is set to leave the series in mere episodes. So with her character already heading down a dark road, will her exit be just as dim?

Maybe it’s a stupid question, as Gallaghers aren’t exactly familiar with happy endings. Monica died of a brain hemorrhage in Season 7, and as earlier mentioned, Ian is in prison. But it’s difficult to predict how Fiona could get out of this predicament and get out of the Southside altogether.

Part of me hopes that rumors of Jimm/Steve, Fiona’s ex-lover played by Justin Chatwin, returning to the show are true, just so Fiona can have a happy ending and be whisked away from the madness her life has become.

Already, it’s interesting to see how Debbie is stepping up and taking a very maternal role in Fiona’s mental absence. I enjoyed seeing her be something so different from the rebellious, irresponsible teenage girl from seasons past, and I genuinely hope this will stick once Fiona is actually gone. She’s almost become everything she hated about her older sister, so I’m curious to see how their relationship will change now that their roles are reversed.

I also loved the discussion in the episode surrounding the current refugee crisis happening at the Mexican/American border. Shameless tends to be controversial at times in terms of its political statements, but this storyline seems really promising. Kev and V both want what’s best for Santiago, and are horrified at the reality of his situation. I hope this will become a full-fledged storyline and really force Kev and V to change the way they think about adopting children, as Kev seemingly only really wants a son so he can play catch with him.

As far as Lip goes, I’m a bit confused. I’m not really sure where his storyline is going this season. His relationship with Tami seems like a cure for boredom and maybe a way to distract himself from drinking, which, I must say, he’s doing a great job at. It was interesting to see his juxtaposition to Fiona who’s in a similar place to where he was not too long ago. I hope this will be touched upon as the season progresses. I feel like Lip could be the perfect person to help Fiona get out of her funk by reminding her of his own rock bottom and how he managed to crawl his way out of it.

So far, I’m enjoying the second half of season nine a lot more than the first. There seems to be some potential for entertaining storylines and some real character development, so I’m excited to see where the rest of the season goes from here.

Though I missed Ian’s presence immensely in this episode and may be just a bit in denial at the permanence of his exit, I’m focusing on appreciating Fiona as much as I can before she too leaves us. Her performance was incredible this episode and I’m not sure how this show will go on without her, but there’s six more episodes of bliss until that happens.

Shameless airs Sundays on Showtime at 9/8c.

Jessica’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝

#Shameless #The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Alibis

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Back to You (Craquaria) ~ Part 2/? ~ Pippin

AN// thank you so much for leaving a whole lot of love on the first chapter! I’m so overwhelmed from all the support and sweet comments - it left me so motivated to finish this next chapter! There’s one more chapter guaranteed to come after this one, but I’m still in contention over whether there’s going to be a part 4/epilogue - send me your thoughts over on aqpippin!

all my love, Pippin xo

Back to You

Part II: Aquaria

Aquaria can still remember waking up on her sixteenth birthday peacefully - not in pain like she expected. Her mom always told her that getting the words would hurt, would feel like a hot poker being pressed against your skin; but Aquaria stared at her reflection in her vanity mirror, running her fingers over the ink that trailed across her collarbone and over her shoulder.

Her parents had made this day out as something to look forward to - but now that it was here, Aquaria felt something akin to disappointment. Her life had undoubtedly changed, yet she felt nothing but underwhelmed by the words stained on her body. Ever the one to hide her true feelings behind an air of confidence, Aquaria expelled all evidence of disappointment from her body with one deep exhalation - before throwing on a sweater and deciding to make her presence known downstairs.

She padded down the stairs of her home, stopping two steps from the bottom when she heard her moms talking quietly.

“I can’t hear anything. I hope she’s okay,” Sharon Needles, as much as she tried to present herself as calm and composed, was always worried about her daughter. Aquaria simply put it down to biology, “I’m going to check on her, make sure she’s not trying to be brave.”

“Sharon, she’s probably fine. At least give her a few more minutes.” She heard her other mom chuckle melodically. Alaska Needles was what most considered a ‘cool mom’; she was poised and relaxed, although standing next to Sharon would make anyone appear as such.

Alaska and Sharon were each other’s soulmates and had been together since Sharon’s senior year of college, Alaska’s junior. They had been together for twenty years and, with love in their hearts (as well as a sperm donor), welcomed Aquaria into their little family not long after their first wedding anniversary. An only child - if you decided to exclude Peaches, the friendly street cat that was too tough to ever admit he liked Aquaria’s snuggles - Aquaria shared a tight bond with both her parents and considered herself more mature than most others her age.

“Morning,” Aquaria greeted her parents nonchalantly, seating herself at the breakfast bar across from her moms who stood gawking at her in the kitchen, “can you please grab the milk, mom?” Alaska nodded wordlessly, brows furrowed in confusion, but Sharon gripped her wife’s wrist and pulled her back.

“Milk can wait. Happy birthday Aquaria, notice anything unusual about your body?” Sharon had always been one to cut to the chase, but this level of abruptness caused both Alaska and Aquaria to stare at her as though she were a mad woman. Perhaps she was.

“Sharon!” Alaska yelped, backhanding her wife’s forearm, “you can’t just ask her that.”

“While I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Aquaria noted, now peeling off her sweater in an attempt to sate her mother, “the underlying aggression is a bit much. Can I have the milk now, please?” She sat, admittedly freezing, in just her pyjama shorts and a tank top, watching her mothers rush around the bench to inspect her body. Aquaria sighed deeply; the girl just wanted some cereal on her birthday. She didn’t think she was asking for too much.

“Starts on the collarbone.” Aquaria pulled her hair over her shoulder, leaning forward to get her hands on one of Sharon’s pieces of toast. She munched away silently, not thinking anything of it until the silence became deafening.

“Aquaria.” Alaska didn’t really know how to speak to her daughter - while Sharon stood frozen, hand resting on her daughter’s shoulder.

‘can I help you? I’m a nurse’

Aquaria spent the next two years of her life in superstition, always assuming the worst of everything and paranoid that something would go wrong at any given time. Hospitals had never been Aquaria’s favourite setting, but her trepidation reached a whole new level - and it didn’t help that her moms stepped up in how protective they were, especially Sharon.

Aquaria’s words weren’t simple or happy like those of her parents, they were ominous and left Aquaria scared that she wouldn’t get to spend as much time with her soulmate as she spent her childhood thinking she would. People didn’t just meet nurses by coincidence - meeting a nurse came with getting hurt, injured, sick. Not knowing what the future held was something that once excited Aquaria, but now she could think of nothing worse.

It was when Aquaria was eighteen and the Fashion Institute of Technology acceptance letter arrived that she decided she needed to start protecting herself. She was a big girl, and what better way to prove that to her parents than by moving from Pittsburgh to Brooklyn? Sharon cried at the airport, and cried when Aquaria rang to say she landed safely - Alaska told Aquaria that Sharon cried at least once a day for the first two weeks, and that the cat was confused.

Aquaria studied by day and partied by night under the influence of her roommate, Jordan. Her days were too full to routinely worry about soulmates and hospitals the way she did when she was in Pittsburgh; and Aquaria found herself indulging, possibly too frequently, in the luxuries New York City had to offer. She walked out of FIT at age twenty-one with a Bachelor’s Degree in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, and started to trade her days of studying and cramming assignments for working and designing her own clothes, her designs influenced by the looks taking over the epicentres of global fashion - New York, Milan, Paris. She was now too busy to stress about the words on her body, and quite enjoyed the feeling of someone she didn’t know leaving blemishes across the soft skin.

Aquaria’s life of luxury came to a screeching halt when she was twenty-three, staring at Jordan incredulously as she held a box of pregnancy tests out to the blonde.

“You’re stupid, I’m not pregnant.” Aquaria huffed, cursing when the bobbin on her sewing machine snapped and snagged her fabric.

“I’m not stupid,” Jordan argued, unplugging the machine’s cord and putting the box of tests down on Aquaria’s workbench, “your tits are huge and I know you don’t have enough money to get them done. And besides, Aqua, we’ve lived together for, like, five years - I know when something’s off.” Aquaria groaned, snatching up the box and stomping into the bathroom, determined to prove Jordan wrong.

Aquaria nearly cried when the test came back positive, telling her she was at least three weeks pregnant.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she sniffled, shaking the test the way you shook a magic-8 ball when you wanted a different answer, and fell to her knees when the little smiley face didn’t go away, “I can’t have a baby.” Jordan sat next to her on the floor and stroked her hair softly, pulling the test from Aquaria’s clenched fist and staring at the digital screen.

“Guess what kiddo, we’re gonna be mommies.”

Aquaria’s fear of hospitals came back shortly after. She couldn’t meet her soulmate in a hospital, not like this - not with a baby.

“What if my baby gets really sick and she needs surgery or something?” Aquaria asked quietly one night, rubbing her hand over her twenty-four week belly and cocking her head to look at the sonogram image from a different angle. The little girl growing in Aquaria’s womb had wreaked enough havoc on her life, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Sharon practically demanded that Aquaria move back to Pittsburgh, and it took a lot for Aquaria to convince her mom that New York was where she was destined to be right now, and that relocating would change her life course.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Jordan sighed, grabbing the pint of ice cream that rested in Aquaria’s lap, “this baby has an incredible mom, and one super cool other mother.” “Other mother?” Aquaria laughed, resting her head on Jordan’s shoulder.

“I haven’t decided if I want to be the other mother, or the fun aunt. I’m gonna teach her some cool stuff. We’ll be okay.”

Aquaria didn’t quite know how she ended up overdue and in an Uber heading towards Manhattan. She was home alone when her contractions started to come more frequently and when her waters broke on Jordan’s rug - she could vaguely recall leaving Jordan a note, quick scribbles about how she was indeed in labour but wasn’t ready for motherhood; and aside from that the rest of the evening was a blur.

She was crying in the back seat of her Uber, watching the rain fall heavily on the road. She felt sick, and her contractions were starting to get closer together and more painful. She had twelve missed calls from Jordan, twenty unopened texts, two calls from her midwife. She hollered some rushed instructions to her driver, demanding he take her to the nearest hospital instead, throwing a $50 bill at him as he pulled up outside Harlem Hospital Centre.

She waddled - walk was too loose a term at forty weeks and six days - inside the hospital, eyeing off a bathroom to her left. Somewhere she could cry for a little bit, wait out the next few contractions, ring Jordan back, and get another Uber back to her hospital in Brooklyn. She pushed the door open hastily, locking eye contact with a woman who was leaning against the sink. She hadn’t anticipated anyone being in the bathroom, and she gathered the woman felt the same way. Aquaria’s tears kept rolling as she leaned against the wall, sliding herself down and exhaling deeply. Aquaria heard the woman’s footsteps against the floor, presumed she was just going to keep walking - Aquaria didn’t expect the woman to lean down and grab her shoulder.

She felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her tummy, felt her skin burning where the woman’s hand rested. Aquaria was sure she had stopped breathing, jaw slack as she stared up at this woman.

“Can I help you?” Aquaria felt the hand run down her arm and grab her hand, and that’s when the tears started falling again, “I’m a nurse.” Aquaria didn’t know what to do. She was panicking, could feel herself getting dizzy and overwhelmed. She grabbed the nurse’s arm in haste, not realising the nurse was now staring at Aquaria incredulously.

“I can’t do this, I want to go home.”

#aquaria #miz cracker #craquaria #soulmate au #back to you #pippin #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au

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maxmundan · 6 years

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I didn’t want to come back. When I was a little kid, I was very religious, very Catholic. I believed with all my heart in heaven and hell, and used to spend a lot of time wondering where I was going to go when I died. I couldn’t really imagine heaven at all. I was told that heaven was just to be in the presence of God and that was all the soul would need. It didn’t seem so damn wonderful to me. I pictured praying and singing hymns night and day and those things were dreadfully boring only doing them once a week on Sunday. I had no problem picturing hell, though. I was terrified of it. I used to daydream about the fire and torment, the billions upon billions of methods of pain and torture. I would imagine myself trying to withstand the pain for all eternity and I would despair. I didn’t think I was good enough to go to heaven. I didn’t think I could be. I just wasn’t made that way. Of course, I had no idea at the time that the other place was nothing like what I imagined at all. I couldn’t have understood that heaven and hell are meaningless concepts when it finally comes down to it; that it would be both heaven and hell at the same time and that would be exactly as it was supposed to be and I couldn’t possibly imagine or want it to be anything else. I didn’t want to come back. My first day back, I had no idea what to do with myself. “You can do anything you want,” they had said to me, “Go anywhere you want. Eat anything you want. Enjoy yourself.” How was I supposed to make a decision like that, though? It was meaningless now. There was nothing that needed to be done or eaten. There was nowhere me, or anyone else for that matter, needed to go. None of it mattered in the slightest. I knew that now. Still, I had to do something. So I took the money they gave me and I bought a gun. I loaded all the chambers with the cold, metal bullets, I put the barrel to my head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. But of course you know that. You know that death is impossible now. I didn’t know that at the time but I’ve since figured it out. I spent the next two weeks, every fucking minute of every day, trying to find a way out. There isn’t one. I get that now. It has sunk in. In those first couple of weeks back, though, I was desperate. There had to be a way out, I thought. I just have to find it. I walked in front of a bus and let it hit me head on. Nothing. I just got up and walked away. I jumped off an overpass onto the 405 freeway into oncoming traffic. It hurt like hell but the cars just kept rolling over me and I kept going. I felt every single one but after a couple of hours I realized I wasn’t getting out this way and pulled myself onto the shoulder of the road. I poisoned myself with strychnine and, later, drinking straight battery acid. I got sick as a dog but I was still here. I tried suicide by cop. I robbed a liquor store at gunpoint and, when the police arrived, engaged them in a fire fight. I think I was hit maybe a hundred times or more. Nada. After a while I just gave up and let them take me in. They said that was what happened all the time. They said that the only people who tried to do stuff like this anymore were those who had just come back and were looking for a way out. They told me that they understood and sympathized with me. One of them told me he was on his second round too and had tried to do something similar. He told me it was hopeless. He told me I should just give up. I asked him to find a way to kill me. He only laughed. I didn’t want to come back. I was in the sap of the tree, as it languidly rolled over the bark. I was in the dew as it dripped from the leaf onto the dog shit on the ground and I was in the shoe and the foot as it crushed the dog shit and felt the blissful cool as it spread all over me. I was in the fire as it consumed the little girl and I was the little girl and her screams and melting flesh and I was in the smoke and the foundation of the house and I was in her memories of the mother she wanted to see one more time. I was in the sound of your voice when you said my name with hatred and derision as you fucked Robert in our bed. I was in Robert’s shame that he was betraying a friend with a woman he didn’t really like. I was in the wicked smile you gave me on the night we met and I was in the less than puritan thoughts that were in your head. I was in the bird that lived outside your bedroom window and I was in the nest and the eggs and the bushes that provided the twigs. I was in your mom and dad and your grandparents and your nieces and nephews and everyone you have ever known. I was in the air you breathe and in the food you ate and I was in the farms that provided that food and the chemicals injected into the animals on that farm. I was in love. I was in love. I was in kisses and fucking and sperm and touching and holding and gripping as tightly as people can grip. I was in everything and I was in nothing. I didn’t want to come back. You gave it to me as a present. The cryogenic thing. You thought it was hilarious, so I played along and went to the intake session. Why not? It was just a bit of fun and was never going to mean anything, kind of like when you had me ordained as a minister for my 28th birthday. So, I went and filled out all their forms (in triplicate) and answered all their questions, even when they were slightly uncomfortable and invasive, like when they asked how often I masturbated or whether I preferred giving or receiving oral sex. What did any of that have to do with being frozen? I didn’t know then and I still don’t know. They showed us the tubes in the freezing room and I remember that we smirked at each other, having this little laugh together at their expense. Neither you nor I were ever the believer type and we weren’t going to start with this stupid, science fiction scenario. Afterwards, we made love at your parents’ house, that we were watching while they were in Paris. It was slow and tender and beautiful and funny. It was really fucking funny. We loved to laugh when we had sex, you and I, and this was one for the ages. We had really pulled the wool over those quacks’ eyes, hadn’t we? Going undercover like that and pretending to be customers. We could have been detectives, or reporters researching a story. The shared secret and the stifled laughter while we were in the office had made us so hot for each other, like we were the only two people in the world who were in on a special secret. You even went down on me, much more forcefully than usual. I guess you had been paying attention when I had answered that question. I didn’t want to come back. How many years has it been now? 16? 17? I can’t remember. About two and a half years in I started shooting fentanyl, like everybody else. The idea hadn’t appealed to me, as I couldn’t shake the old life knowledge that it was so deadly. Of course, that didn’t matter at all anymore, so once the drudgery and repetition became so unbearable, I decided to join the club. If I wasn’t going to get the big escape, I suppose I might as well indulge in the little one. Most of us live on the street. The houses and even the apartments are for the bosses. We just shoot dope all night and try to find whatever comfort and oblivion is possible to us. They’ve cordoned off our section of the city and just leave us to it. Their enforcers burst in every morning with their damnable cattle prods and get us all to the line. I assume it’s like this in every city, although I don’t really know. Nobody knows anything. There is no news or television or entertainment of any kind, aside from the occasional hallucination. That kind of stuff is only for the bosses. Sometimes, when I get close enough to one by accident or chance, I hear them talking about things but I don’t know what they mean. There’s no children here. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen a child since I’ve been back. That’s weird, isn’t it? Where did all the children go? We fuck, though. We can still do that, so we do it constantly, with anyone we can find. There’s really nothing else to do in our downtime. I mean, yeah, I can’t always get it up. Specially right after I shoot. Then I don’t want to, you know? I just want to lay on the ground and feel nothing. I cherish the tiny reminder…of the other place. When I’m coming down, though, I don’t want to do anything else. Most of the guys have trouble getting it up sometimes. There is always someone hard, though. We call it “erection frenzy,” when a whole crowd spots a hard-on at the same time and they all jump on it. People have been known to get really hurt that way. They still got to be on the line in the morning. I didn’t want to come back. It was about six months in I found out you were gone already. I wasn’t particularly surprised. It had been 50 years after all. Still I’d really hoped I’d get the chance to talk to you. I wanted to tell you that I understood and that it was all okay. I wanted you to know that I forgave you for cheating on me; for hating me so intensely in those last days. I realize what a disappointment I had been to you. I’m sorry I was too weak to fight for you. I get it now that this is what you wanted all along. It was the one thing I couldn’t give. I was a lover, not a fighter. Isn’t that funny? If you were here, you would think that was funny. But you’re not here. Robert’s not here either, or else I’d gift him with my forgiveness, whatever that’s worth. You’re in the other place. With him. I didn’t want to come back. I was my mother, as she was giving birth to me, and I was my father, watching her with the realization that I would never again be free. I was my sister Sue, who had the harelip and I felt what it was like to be pitied, and I was my brother Mark, winning another track and field award and knowing what it was like to be myself without a doubt. I was Chipper, our Border Collie when I was a kid, living to chase the ball and lavishing in the feeling of the hands on my back. Oh God, the hands on my back. I was Harry and Larry, the goldfish, gorging myselves on the food that had been spilled into the bowl by mistake until our tiny stomachs began to burst. I was Mahatma Gandhi, lying in bed with two gorgeous women and repeating to myself that I cannot have sex with them, but wanting to so badly, and I was Ed Gein, lovingly carving up a carcass and tenderly knitting the pieces together with thread. I was I was Vladimir Nabokov, believing I was about to shock and astonish the world, and I was John Ford, arguing, for the millionth time, with that bloated blowhard John Wayne. I was you, looking at me, with hesitation and disquiet and, yes, more than a little love and devotion. I was me, looking at you and wondering just how much of myself I was going to reveal. I was everyone and I was no one. I didn’t want to come back. I’ve tried to overdose. I just can’t do it. Oh, you fade away, just like you’d expect when you OD. The only problem is, you come back. You wake up in exactly the same place you started. I should have learned a long time ago that they won’t let you out. they’ll never let you out. One time I saved up my rations for a whole month and traded them for enough fenfen that I thought I could kill a horse with it. I shot it all in one massive dose and was gone within seconds. I was out for about four days that time, but I still came back. I had missed something like 60 hours on the line and had to be publically humiliated and flogged. They don’t like it when you try to get away, even for a bit. There’s no escape. You can’t get out. This is forever. I didn’t want to come back. When I was a little kid, I was very religious, very Catholic. I believed with all my heart in heaven and hell, and used to spend a lot of time wondering where I was going to go. I guess I can stop asking that question. I didn’t want to come back.

Max Mundan, Coming Back

Get your very copy of my new book, I’ll Only Write Poems for You, by clicking right HERE!

#prose #maxmundan #writers on tumblr #short story #comingback

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

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Baby Jauregui - Chapter 11

Your POV

After the ‘Breakfast with the Jaureguis’ special, Mom dropped me off at Lily’s.

There wasn’t a car in the driveway so I’m assuming she’s home alone.

I walk into the 2 story colonial, calling my girlfriend’s name through the house.

She comes down the stairs smiling softly when she sees me.

“Hey.” I smile, pulling the brunette in for a tight hug. I loved being in her arms. I always got a whiff of vanilla and it was the sweetest smell in the world.

“Hi. Let’s go in the living room.” She says, pulling me past the dining room.

We plop down on the gray couch, and I put my arm along the back of it, turning my body so I was facing Lily. “What can I do ya for?” I ask, folding my leg under me.

“Well next year, we’re both gonna be in school, which is really in about 4 weeks. And I was wondering if like we were still gonna be together.” She mumbles, not making eye contact with me.

I was a little taken aback at the fact that she was being serious. “Are you kidding?” I laugh bitterly, starting to stand up.

“No Y/n, wait.” She says as I turn around, leaving the room. In what world would we break up because we were going back to school? “I was just wondering because I… you never really came out and-”

“Lily, shut up!” I cut her off, turning around. She looks shocked because I yelled at her. “Just because I’m going to school doesn’t mean I want to break up with you.”

“I just didn’t know.” She shrugs.

“Why would I ever give you a reason to think that?” I ask, getting slightly offended.

“You didn’t. It’s your junior year Y/n. This should be the year that you explore everything, and decide-” I cut her off with my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. I put my hands on the skin of her ribs, pulling her closer.

“I love you. The only one I want to spend my life with. No matter which year I’m in. I. Love. You. More than I can explain.” I whisper, Lily cupping my cheeks. “Don’t be a crazy girlfriend. Just let me love you."

"You know I’m not that simple.” She laughs lightly.

“I will love you anyway.” I whisper, pulling her closer, connecting our lips again.

I knew Lily wasn’t that simple. But I loved her none the less. There wasn’t something she could do that would make me love her less. Nothing.

Lily and I spend the day just watching TV, and doing other things. I went home around 9, seeing Mom and Camila in the living room watching TV. I plop down on the loveseat, folding one leg under me, the other dangling down.

“Hey sweetie, how was Lily’s?” Mom asks, pausing the movie, and turning to me.

“Fine.” I shrug, running a hand through my hair. I look over and see Camila staring at the TV. “Camila, are you kidding?” I groan, finally being frustrated with my god mother.

“Mija!” Mom exclaims, looking horrified. I roll my eyes, going up to my room, not wanting to deal with this right now.

I close my door, changing into a pair of running shorts and a sports bra, laying in bed. I grab my phone, scrolling through Instagram, liking a pic Lily posted of us, cuddled up in her bed, me kissing her cheek.

“Y/n, scoot over. We’re gonna talk about it.” Camila says, walking in, pushing me over from the edge of the bed. I sit up against the headboard, my godmother sitting next to me. “I’m sorry if I made you feel anything that I shouldn’t make you feel. I’m your godmother. I shouldn’t make you feel shame, or regret for something that’s completely normal.” She whispers, putting an arm around me, and pulling me closer.

“I just felt like you were almost disappointed in me.” I mumble, Camila kissing the top of my head.

“Never. I was just shocked, not disappointed. I almost forgot you were 15, and going to be a junior.” She says. “I’m sorry. I’m the adult here, and I didn’t handle that the way it should’ve been handled.”

“It’s fine. Whatever.” I shrug, playing with the hem of my shorts.

“No it’s not. I was stupid, I’m so sorry. So tomorrow we’re taking a goddaughter- godmother day.” Camila says pulling away, and standing up.

Goddaughter- godmother day was something we did every once in a while, and we would tend to do the same thing every time we went.

“Alright. Sounds good.” I nod, running a hand through my hair.

“Y/n, I’m really sorry, I am. I should’ve been the adult in the situation.” She says seriously before disappearing.

I’m not surprised that she apologized. She was being immature about the incident. It’s moved past us, and now I was going to spend a GDGM day with her.

The day was nice. We went bowling, then got lunch, then to the beach like usual. When I came home Mom was sitting on the couch, my father sitting across from her.

I was frozen. Why is he here? “Mija, come sit.” Mom says, patting the spot next to her. I slowly sit down next to her, Mom grabbing my hand.

“Hi Y/n.” Brad smiles. I turn to Mom, completely ignoring him.

“What is he doing here?” I mumble, Brad scoffing.

“Is this how it’s gonna be again?"

"Are you not going to be here for any of my life again?” I turn to him, smiling sarcastically.

“Mija!” Mom slaps my leg, Brad looking at me with wide eyes.

“Why are you here?” I ask, frustrated with the British man sitting in front of me.

“My mother, your grandmother, is aware that I have a daughter now, and would love to meet you.” He states.

“That’s a joke.” I laugh bitterly. “I’m not meeting your mother. She’s not my grandma because you’re not my dad. You’re my mom’s sperm donor.” I say, Brad putting his face in his hands.

“Mija…” Mom whispers.

“No Lauren. She’s right. This was stupid. I was stupid to even ask." He mumbles, standing up.

"Brad. Sit down. My daughter will shut up and listen.” Mom says, putting her hand on my knee.

“My mother has been diagnosed with cancer. I only have younger siblings. She really wants to meet you before she get too sick. So, I’m begging you. Please come back with me to England and meet my mom.” Brad pleads.

I take a moment to process before turning to Mom. “May I have some to think about it?” I ask, turning back to Brad.

“Of course. I’m leaving in a week, uh call me and let me know.” He nods, leaving the house. I turn to Mom who was giving me a sympathetic look.

“I really don’t want to go.” I mumble, trying to make a decision.

“You have no obligation. If you want to put a moral obligation on yourself, you can. But you have no obligation. Legally he isn’t your dad. Biologically she is. That means biologically she’s your grandmother.” She nods, kissing my forehead.

“Are you gonna come?” I ask, Mom nodding furiously.

“Yes definitely. I need to get their family medical history to let your doctor know. And I would never let you go with him alone because I know how uncomfortable you would be.” She says.

“I feel like I should go… Not for him but for her.” I say, Mom smiling softly.

“If that’s what you want to do, I support you one-hundred percent baby.” Mom promised.

“Ok. Well then call him.” I shrug, going up to my room.

A week later we met Brad in the airport so not to cause controversy. I just had a duffle bag and a backpack, Mom had a suitcase and her purse or whatever.

I had talked about it with Lily and she said she was proud of me, and thought I was making the right decision.

I had my headphones in as Mom held onto my hand tightly as Big Rob helped push us through the paps.

We said a thank you and good bye to the body guard before Mom checked us in, and then we made our way to the private waiting area. When we walked in Brad was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, his wife and her holding the baby sitting next to him.

He smiles at us, getting up. “Hey guys.” He tries to pull me in for a hug but I step back. “Alright.” He nods, Mom hugging him. “Our flight leaves in about 45 minutes.”

“Can we grab something to eat?” I ask Mom.

“Yeah, we didn’t have breakfast did we?” Mom smiles. I shake my head and she puts her suitcase in the corner. “You stay here, I think I saw a Starbucks. I’ll be back in 10.” Mom says, kissing the top of my head. “Be nice.” She whispers before disappearing with her bag.

I sit across from them, and she smiles at me. “So Y/n, what grade are you in?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name last time.” I say, running a hand through my hair.

“Jessica.” She smiles. She was American. She had bright blue eyes and really blonde hair. She looked like a stick which was a little weird considering I don’t think the baby was even a year yet.

“I’m going into Junior year.” I nod, Jessica furrowing her eyebrows.

“I thought you were 15?”

“You’re 15?” Brad asks, popping his head up from his phone.

“Yeah…” I mumble, a little offended that Jessica knew my age but my own sperm donor didn’t.

“Oh. Do you play sports?” He asks, still typing away at his phone.

“Yeah, I swim.” I mumble, knowing that he wasn’t listening.

“Oh no way. I swam for college.” Jessica smiles, bouncing the baby boy up and down on her knee.

Now that I take time to look at him, I now notice that his facial expressions are similar to mine. Technically he’s my half brother. He has big brown eyes and light brown curly hair.

He doesn’t look older than 9 months, and was just gargling to himself, playing with the teething toy in his hands. “His name is Joey.” She smiles tickling the baby’s tummy.

“He’s cute.” Mom walks back into the room with a coffee for herself, and then what looks like 2 bagels in her other hand. “He kind of looks like you.”

“When I was a baby?” I ask, Mom nodding. “Except I had green eyes, and I didn’t have a full head of hair until I was 6.” I laugh, Mom handing me my bagel. “Thank you.”

“That’s a good point.” She laughs, running a hand through her hair.

“You guys are… almost twins.” Jessica smiles, Mom and I turning back to her.

“That’s because she doesn’t let me out of the house. She’s my only friend.” I say, Mom rolling her eyes.

“You were at Lily’s last night.” She points out as I take a bite of my bagel.

“Oh yeah, that’s the one other place I can go to.” I laugh lightly.

“You’re still gay?” Brad asks. This guy seemed way to comfortable in his surroundings to be this rude.

“Excuse me?” I laugh bitterly. He looks up, his eyes widening at what he just said. “Number one I’m not gay, number two, yes I’m still dating Lily.” I mumble, running a hand through my hair.

Lauren’s POV

I can’t believe he just said that. “Hey Brad, can I talk to you?” I smile, Brad’s eyes widening when he noticed the angry look in my eye. On what planet was this man living?

We go into a little side room, and I close the door behind him. “Are you fucking insane?” I whisper yell, Brad stepping back. “Do you know how fucking hard this is for her? She hates you Brad. She hates everything about you, but you have somehow convinced her to come with you. She has the biggest heart ever, so she wouldn’t say no. Brad, stop treating her like you don’t care."

"I do care.” He says, looking like he’s starting to realize what he’s doing.

“You won’t get off your phone. Your wife knows more about her than you do. Cut it out. She will be the person to turn around halfway on the plane because you pissed her off."I mumble, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

"Lauren I really want to be in her life.” He says, looking very sad.

“Yeah, no shit. She’s a beautiful young lady now. But you need to act like that because she doesn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.” I explain to him.

Y/n was an unbelievable girl, who I’ve worked my ass off to raise correctly, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job because of how cautious she’s being with Brad.

“Come on, tell me some quick facts about her.” He mumbles.

“Birthday, August 15th, 2014. She’s a swimmer, she’s really smart, she skipped eighth grade. She will put you in your place, but you already know that. She’s independent. If you offer to carry anything for her, she will get angry. Don’t ever make a comment about her loved ones, she will go off on you.” I explain, Brad trying to take it all in.

“So she’s basically a younger version of you.” Brad smiles softly.

“No, she’s a lot worse.” I mumble, leaving the room. We see my daughter and Brad’s wife packing up.

“Mom, our plane’s here.” Y/n says, handing me my bag.

“Thank you mija.” I smile, kissing the top of her head. She wasn’t shorter than me, so it was closer to her forehead. She takes my suitcase, and I give Brad a pointed look as we go through the private walkway down to the plane.

We settle on the plane. I’m on one couch with Y/n next to me, Brad and his wife across from us. Joey was asleep now.

Y/n was texting away on her phone and I assumed it was Lily. I hand Y/n a piece of gum, and she mumbles a thank you as she puts it in her mouth.

“So Y/n. Tell me more about swimming.” Jess smiles at my beautiful daughter.

“Uh well, I’m gonna swim for my school, and my club team.” She says, locking her phone, running a hand through her hair as she looks at the blonde.

“Oh sweet, maybe I could come to a meet.” Jess smiles.

“Yeah maybe.” Y/n shrugs.

“So uh, what’s your favorite subject in school?” Brad asks nervously, messing with the rings on his fingers.

“English and Spanish.” She mumbles, sitting against the back of the couch, crossing her legs.

“Oh! You speak Spanish?” He asks, smiling a little bit.

“Yeah. Considering I’m Cuban…” She mumbles. Oh my god, she wasn’t going easy on the poor guy. The reason I was letting her take control of this because this was necessarily her relationship with him.

“And British.” He smiles. That joke fell a little short…

“I don’t really tell people that…” She mumbles. We don’t talk as we take off, Y/n on her phone again.

She puts her headphones in, and lays her head on my lap as she closes her eyes. I rub her back as she starts to go to sleep. “Are you rubbing her back?” Brad asks.

“Yeah, I’ve rubbed her back since she was a baby.” I shrug. It was true. It’s always been the way she’s fell asleep the fastest.

“I wish I knew more about her.” He mumbles, leaning back against the couch.

“So do I…"

A/n: Sorry for mistakes, I would love feedback, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.

#UPDATE #series #/you #family #submission #Baby Jauregui

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dachi-chan25 · 7 years

Text

Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 6 Recap Pt.2

WARNINGS: SPOILERS; not a D@€n€r¥$ fan; Jonsa shipper.

—————-

3.- Back on Eastwatch Gendry is bitching to Beric and Thoros for their betrayal, and The Hound tells him to shut the fuck up (god the Hound is such a #mood character) and honestly I get a bit confused round here cuz so much stuff happens on Eastwatch I don’t even remember the order of this two conversations:

Tormund attempts to talk to the Hound, it’s hillarious, and you know what? They talk about Brienne, someone they have in common, #yes I am very salty Arya hasn’t been mentioned at all.

Beric and Jon have a conversation, again very intresting cuz Beric says Jon doesn’t look like Ned at all (for real you going there Beric?) and he must look like his mom (wasn’t he the one Stark children that looked the most like Ned??? The show confuses me greatly) just so we could be reminded again that indeed Jon looks like Lyanna and that *looks at smudged writing on my hand* Ragger Targpycola is his sperm donnor, thus he is a Targ. Also we get Jon saying he is going through all this bullshit dumbass hunt for the North (pls keep this in mind I beg you) Beric says he is doing this not for any King or Queen to sit on a throne (curioser and curioser) he is doing it for life, Jon quotes his vows of the NW, and they have this very intresting convo about life and the inevitabiliy of death.

I find very intresting Beric once again remind us of the little importance of titles and thrones right now, and Jon quoting his NW vows plus that Mance reminder he got from Tormund, well well I can see where this is going.

Also Beric knows about Jon’s resurrection but D the supposed Love of his life epic wuv story owo doesn’t, also Jon doesn’t seemed bothered by Beric knowing, and they both talk about what a cryptic asshole is R'hollor.

Yeah so The Hound guides them to the mountain with the arrow shaped top (yeah you know the one he saw in his insta vision) but they have to cross a frozen lake (the ice is not so thick) and a giant ass Wight bear is coming towards them, actually I found this whole thing so boring? The bear looked really fake (guess all that budget went to dragons) and really the whole purpose of this is to create fake tension and sense of danger, I couldn’t even get worried about any of the Suicide Squad, Thoros got injured but again he is one very minor character not that popular with the audience so we can kiss this drunken red priest goodbye.

Yeah so after this absolute bullshit they atract the attention of the WW building a fire, and ambush them (this FUCKING plan y'all) they very predictably are getting their assess handed to them by the wights til Jon kills the WW and the wights drop dead on the spot (k I take it back this is the CW, only in the V@mpir€ Di@ri€$ such convinient stuff happens) shit hits the metaphorical fan when an entire army of the death is matching towards our brave (and dumb) heroes.

Gendry being the fastest runner is sent back to Eastwatch to send for help while the Hound struggles to capture the only wight that very conviniently didn’t turn to dust when they killed the WW (I never thought to get a dumber storyline than the Jaime and Bronn rescue Myrcella from Dorne with no plan whatsoever but here we are) and how??? Like this would have been easily solved by bringing horses, or you know a damned raven!!! Jon already did an expedition beyond the wall! He was the goddamned Lord Commander and didn’t he for a moment consider they might need this stuff for a Wight hunt???? Deus ex machina in it’s finest. Also Gendry told us at the beginning of the damn episode it was the first time he has seen snow, he doesn’t know the territory how is he getting back to Eastwatch??? This makes even less sense by the minute I just can take seriously any of this stuff thus I can’t get emotionally involved and be seriously scared or worried for Suicide Squad.

Yeah so part of the lake cracks under the weight of thousands of animated corpses and dumb wight hunters, and they are left on a circule of ice surrounded by wights, that I shit you not are waiting for the lake to freeze again so they can attack, I just– fuck it!

4.-Back on WF (oh fuck me) Sansa is on Arya’s chambers, I guess she is looking for something that gives her an idea as to who is exactly this person her little sister became, when she finds the bag of faces, Sansa is (rightfully) horrified, Arya enters the room talking all cryptically but Sansa is not up for this mindgames, dammit not with her family! And asks directly what they are, Arya gives her an answer and a vague threat of taking Sansa’s face, whyyyyyy dude??? Another big trigger for Sansa, her abuser flyed people alive, hell she flyed that nice granny that tried to help Sansa, I know Arya doesn’t know, and I am not comparing her with Ramsey, but fuck what is it with the let’s play a game as all this fucked up mind games, if this is a ploy I have no doubt Sansa will forgive Arya, and Arya is gonna feel terrible when she finds out all that Sansa went through, but D&D are truly doing some great disservice to Arya, so this game as a lot of people realized is the Faces Game, Arya has already said her lie and gave Sansa the dagger.

Sansa confirms my suspicion in this whole secret ploy of playing LF by going to him, and pretends to trust him with what Arya is doing (only a fool would trust LF) without mentioning the dagger and he suggests maybe Brienne can take care of Arya if things go that far.

And also the only reason she cares about the Northern Lords finding out about the letter is that she doesn’t want Jon loosing his army, holy fuck she really loves him, even LF must know for he is not trying to undermine Jon in any way.

This is the only possitive thing that has come from this stuff.

5.- Gendry arrives at Eastwatch and tells them to send a raven to D. Meanwhile she is chilling on DS with Tyrion, she’s frustrated by all this stupid heroic man like Jorah, Daario and this Jon Snow.

Tyrion frowns and point out at all this man are in Love with her (LMAO where?????) cuz all those longing looks are not to form an alliance (dude you’d be surprised)

Speculation time! Isn’t this super super wierd? I mean with Jorah we get all this big gestures in her name and stares, same with Daario who always softened with her and smiled a lot, but Jon??? excuse me but there are no fucking scenes to support Tyrion’s claim. And I think Tyrion knows, remember last episode’s farwell, yes the one where Jon doesn’t turn around cuz he doesn’t give a fuck, Jorah did turn around and D was giving full heart eyes, you know who saw all of this? Tyrion, he even gets a close up. Dude but why would he pushed this idea on D’s mind, oh I don’t know maybe to MAKE HER LISTEN, she listened to Daario about the fighting pits, and Tyrion has seen first hand (that don’t be more of the same speech) that Jon is good and maybe his influence could be good on D.

D says Jon is not in love with her but her expression tells me she really believes he is, oh my god her self absortion knows no bounds. Dude why would he be??? Also that gross ass comment about Jon being too short in front of Tyrion wow dude way to be insensitive.

Anyway they are discusing startegies for the upcoming reunion with Cersei, and gods D is super annoying, she is blaming Tyrion for his plans while simultaneously asking him for a plan like??? And what are *you* gonna do girl? What are *you* proposing? Just ride your dragon into KL and call yourself queen? That’s your strategy for everything sorry if I am skeptical about your supposed greatness. Very easy to point fingers at people when you are doing nothing but wait for their plans to benefit you.

Tyrion still tries to explain why having people fear you is not a good thing for a ruler that supposedly wants to break the wheel, when she the D compares herself with Aegon the Conqueror (damn I am getting good at analysing this stuff) I was like ???? She thinks being a conqueror is a good thing? How??? She is so narrow minded is painful to watch and hear. Tyrion is just as horrified, excuse the hell outta me but why are y'all having to talk her out of burning people and destroying places/resources, how is anyone like that worthy of the power and responsabilities that come with ruling?? and D gets fucking paranoid (so we begin to emmulate daddy dearest aren’t we) and says Tyrion doesn’t want to destroy his family, excuse the fuck out of me but she knows Tyrion was being persecuted for his father and nephew’s murder, she knows Cersei hates him cuz he told her and I can just feel sorry for Tyrion, he believed and admired this woman so much (tho he is also to blame for letting himself be dazzled by the pretty speeches and dragons) and now he is really getting to know her

Tyrion implies he wants to form a good strategy so she don’t lose her temper and…

“I never lose my temper” she said while losing her temper.“

He is like ummm the Tarlys? And she is trying to justify herself mother of god what is wrong with her? Even Tyrion says what she did was completely unnecessary.

He wants to talk about important stuff like how she plans to go about breaking the wheel, cuz he is smart enough to know they are not easy quick changes and it could take more than a lifetime for her to change the world, how is her legacy gonna live on after she is dead, you know this is pretty important stuff she should be concerned about (this stuff about family and legacy has been touched upon since this season first episode on the Jaime/Cersei scene) but she retorts with the fact that she is struggling with infertility and that if Tyrion has maybe disscused her death with Jaime? Tyrion explains how concerned he was about her well being during the Loot Train attack and she is awful really, she is completely delusional about Tyrion trying to betray her, but I also think it would be good to talk about the succession once she is queen so I give her that.

I seriously think Tyrion is gonna dump her anytime now.

———-

Part 3 coming up!

#game of thrones #season 7 #jonsa #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #for good measure #7x06 recap #part 2 #dachi rambles

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dcbicki · 7 years

Text

“You’re Gonna See it Someday; It’s Affection Always”

Fandom: Veep Characters: Dan Egan, Amy Brookheimer Pairing: Dan/Amy Rating: T (use of mature language) In which Amy’s pregnant, and Dan already has a plan mapped out for them.

He’s a fucking snake with the eyes of a hawk. Of course he’s up to something. She knows him, better than anybody else probably ever has, ever could.

“And now you’re gonna eat.” He reaches down, picks up a rounded bowl. “Eating for two now, Amy.”

She’s seriously gonna stab him with a fucking spoon.

----

He’s thought long and hard about this. Well, that’s to say he thought of it, considered it for like twenty minutes, and then made up his mind.

He didn’t even need to consider it– not really, not hard at least. It all just seemed rather obvious, now that the cards were in place and the inevitable was no longer deniable.

He knocks once, twice, knows she’ll answer despite it being so late at night because she’s Amy, and she just will.

Dan bounces up in his heels, waits for the wooden door to Room 206 to open and its guest to greet him. He frowns. She’s probably wearing that awful fucking granny nigh- “What?”

Nope. She’s still wearing that dress that looks like a long blouse. It still stops at her knees, still shows off traces of her bra underneath. Oh.

“What?”

“What?” Amy scowls, eyes drawn tight and lips thin. Her body is hard, tense. Fuck. “You knocked on my door, Dan.”

Right. “Can I come in?”

There’s no ‘please’, not even a hint of one coming soon. There are no cherries on top of this, no sprinkles to garnish their massive fuck-up.

“No. And you’ve got one minute to say whatever bullshit you’ve been reciting in your head before I scream.”

She wouldn’t. He’s sure of it.

“Well, aren’t you a fucking delight?” Maybe sarcasm wasn’t really the right idea to start things off, he judges based on the look she gives him. Whatever. “You really want me to let everyone on the floor know of our little sexcapade, Amy?”

“Goodbye, Dan.”

The door doesn’t shut because he pushes a hand up flat against it, and she removes her own, backing down against her will. She still glares up at him, though. She can still look like she hates him, at least.

“You could’ve told me you weren’t on the pill.”

On second thought, maybe blaming her isn’t gonna go down too well either.

Fuck him, and fuck his finger-pointing.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve used a condom.”

One hand curled around the doorway to her room, he sighs, slight aggravation showing in his tone (because she’s not letting him in, because she’s blaming him), “I was told-”

“A low sperm count doesn’t mean no mean sperm count at all, you fucking dildo.”

Dan smirks at that (because he’s an ass, after all), and he leans in closer, “More like a vibrator, angel.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Besides,” he shrugs, still towers over her even though she refuses to let him into the room, “You weren’t bitching about the lack of condom when you were riding my dick.”

“You told me not to worry, and because I was as drunk as a freshman sorority girl lying face down in an back ally, I didn’t worry.”

He drank more than she did that night, and they both know it.

“It’s not my fault you couldn’t keep up with me.” He’d been six drinks in, and she’d been five. So close. Damn him.

“You were the one who kept buying me drinks.”

“And yet I wasn’t the only one completely trashed at the end of the night.”

“Fuck you.”

“Can I come in?”

“No. Go back to your room. Go fuck an unsuspecting twenty year old. I don’t care.” She wants to close the door, to slam it in his face so hard his fucking nose bleeds, bruises, breaks.

He won’t budge though, and he’s practically already inside at this point anyway.

He’s asking out of common courtesy, which is almost funny considering Dan is one of the rudest people she knows. He’s fake, too, though.

It’s ironic, because common courtesy was the sole reason she decided to tell him. She didn’t tell him because she wanted to, because she needed him or his money or his help. It was the right thing to do – to tell him of his impending fatherhood, if he wanted it – try as she might to fight it.

“I don’t want to fight, Amy.”

It’s not good for the-

“Well, if you’d have used the brain that the Wizard of fucking Oz gave you at birth, then we wouldn’t have anything to fight about in the first place.”

He kind of wants to tell her that they always find ways of arguing anyway, that there is always just something there as a source of heated conversation between them, a raw nerve left uncovered. He almost wants to remind her of how they once clashed over a flavours of fucking frozen yoghurt. He’s not blind. He knows how they operate, how and why and just how well they work together.

But he doesn’t – doesn’t mention their ever-present, ever-lingering need for eye-drawing disputes – because he knows it’ll only make matters worse. And they’re already in pretty fucking rough shape as it is.

We don’t have to fight now, Amy. We need to talk about this.

He’d tell her this if he wasn’t such a coward, if he wasn’t just two steps away from becoming a full-fledged sociopath, one who craved her attention and cherished her scoldings. It’s that five percent part of him needs to feel loved (so people say), he reckons.

He’d tell her this, but only if their deliciously twisted Machiavellian souls weren’t so damn twisted. He’d tell her this, but he kind of likes it when she hates him.

“Best put on those ruby slippers then, Dorothy. It’s gonna be a long fucking road ahead.”

Campaign trailing and tightrope walking and hormone-fucking-controlled screaming matches. All this until they become parents. All this until the emerald-tinted goggles wear off and all they’re left with is a fucking baby and a fuckload of diapers.

Fuck the wizard, and fuck that analogy.

“Can you leave?” Her lips purse, and he somehow knows that she wants to add a simple ‘Please?’ on the end of that. But she won’t. They don’t do manners. They don’t do nice.

Shoulders raised high and body hunched, her spine is probably fucking screaming out for help. He’s never understood how her spine hasn’t tensed up so much that it shatters into fucking pieces, but he’s always admired it from afar, from too close.

“No.”

No, because you said you pregnant with my fucking kid, so, I don’t know, we should probably talk about it. Maybe? Huh? No? Well, tough shit, Brookheimer.

Dan lifts a brow, in that sharp way he does when he’s testing her, messing with her. Except he isn’t really messing now, but his face has never quite mastered the art of expressing anything other than boyish overconfidence or sheer disgust, so he just looks like a fucking prick instead. Nothing new there then, Amy thinks.

“Why?”

Because we need-

“I ordered room service and told them to bring it here.” He shrugs, nonchalant, ignores the icy blue daggers her eyes bore into him.

Amy lets a moment pass before she speaks again, just watching as he ventures further into her room, not even asking for her approval now. He tosses that stupid beige coat down on the chair beside the dresser, sits down in said chair with one leg crossed over the other at the knee. And he’s grinning. Fucking asshole.

“What did you order?”

She didn’t dare eat enough at dinner, too distracted by his constant nudging and staring. They hadn’t spoken to each other all night; well, of anything other than Selina or her baby that is the White House, that is. They didn’t talk about what was really at the back of both of their minds, pushing its way to the forefront as only their evil fucking spawn could.

“Cravings kicking in already?” He’s messing now, and they both know it.

“Fuck you.” She ignores his look, utterly despises the smug smile – no, smirk – he keeps plastered on his face. She sits on the bed, phone still clutched in her hands. Ring, goddamn it. Fucking ring. “It’s a surprise,” she hears him say, all proud and sounding much like his usual self it’s truly disgusting.

Fuck him and his voice. Fuck him and personality. Fuck him and his shitty genes. Fuck, him.

“You know I can just call someone to come and drag you out of here, right?” She’s not lying, but he knows she’s bluffing. Her hands are sweating, the backs of her knees hot against the bed’s blanket. Is it abso-fucking-lutely vital that he keep staring at her like that?

He taps one hand against the armrest of the shitty chair he’s sat in, sighs in a way that lets her know he doesn’t give a single flying fuck about her threat. “Feel free, Ames.”

“You could at least wipe that shitty grin off your face.” Amy offers, flicking blonde hair behind the shoulder when it starts to stick against her neck, all warm and sweaty. Maybe she’s not pregnant, maybe she’s menopausal already and having a hot flash. Her doctor would disagree.

Just as I thought. You’re pregnant. Congrats, Miss Brookheimer. Would you like to call anyone?

She’d thought about it, about calling him then and there, about letting him know straight away. Hell, she’d thought about dialing his number and just handing the phone over to her doctor to let him learn the wonderful news from someone else.

Hello? Mr Egan? Congratulations are in order. You’re going to be a father.

She’d internally debated all options before making her decision. She’d considered every alternative available to her before making up her mind. She’s getting older, and time is moving faster, and she’s changed (somewhat) as a person.

Fuck.

It’s winter for fuck’s sake, why is her room so hot? Fucking heating.

“You don’t have to be involved. I’m not gonna hunt you down for fucking child support.” She’s a working woman with a job – undetermined, uncertain, unspecified as of yet. She can be a single mother if she has to be.

And she can picture him working alongside her all day everyday, purposely ignoring her pregnancy, and then intentionally avoiding all mention of the kid she’d surely talk about every once in a while. He’d be good at pretending, she knows.

If she told him to go, he’d walk. Quite happily, she thinks.

“You can get the fuck out.”

Of your room? Of your life?

Constantly circling each other’s orbit, casually dancing around an endgame. Maybe they had just been in denial of the inevitable.

“I think I’ll stay right here, thanks.”

His tone contradicts his meaning. He’s smug, but he’s serious.

I’m staying. I’m here. This could work for us. This could for me.

This is a golden opportunity, and not just for him. Maybe it’s a blessing disguised as a fucking embryo, all devil horns and shit-eating smiles.

There’s a knock on the door before he can get another word out, suggest something she’ll either love or loathe. Dan hops up to answer the door, brushing past her legs with the coolest of drafts. She, despite herself, likes it.

“Room service.”

The door swings open, revealing a short white guy dressed in a low rent khaki-coloured uniform. He looks as though someone just killed his family pet, and Dan barely acknowledges him. Poor fucker.

He grabs the handle of the cart – the whole thing, not just a tray – and wheels it into the room before letting go of the truck to pull out some already-counted cash from his back pocket to tip him, “Thanks, buddy.”

Door slamming shut, he spins back around to come face to face with Amy, only a couple of steps away from him, eyes squinting in distrust. He smiles – that motherfucker – and makes a note of her phone lying on the bed. Finally.

“What kind of game are you playing?”

“Why do you assume I’m playing a game?” He has a new job, his own fucking business for Christ’s sake. He is settled… kind of. He’s a grown adult who fucks people and fucks with people as a favourite past-time. “Jesus Christ, am I not allowed to order food for the mother of my child?”

She feels something twist into a knot in her stomach at that, and it rises to burn in her throat. Bile. Vomit.

Don’t ever fucking say that again. Please. Jesus.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner.”

“You kept staring at me, and I had shit to do.”

“And because I was staring I know you weren’t eating.”

She chooses to ignore the slight hint of concern he’s showing. He’s a fucking snake with the eyes of a hawk. Of course he’s up to something.

She knows him, better than anybody else probably ever has, ever could.

“And now you’re gonna eat.” He reaches down, picks up a rounded bowl. “Eating for two now, Amy.”

She’s seriously gonna stab him with a fucking spoon.

The motherfucker ordered what looks like one of everything, and she would thank him if he wasn’t just so naturally, perfectly, plainly sketchy.

“It’s your fault, by the way.” She’s not claiming responsibility for their latest fuck-up, “You were the one who said you couldn’t get your fucking swimmers to the finish line.”

He holds up both hands, blamelessly, “Then I guess you’re just an extra special swimming pool.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later I’ll let you.”

Can she kill him with a spoon? Can they legalize spoon-killing? Fuck, she’ll settle for spooning his eyes if she has to.

Eyes narrowing, Amy finally gives in. Not for his sake, but because she’s hungry as fuck and there are like twenty dishes in front of her. Screw him, him and his tall, towering ass.

“Fine.” Those cravings aren’t going to kick in for some time, she knows, but she’s desperately craving something sweet. And that bowl full of caramel – is that fucking salted caramel? – ice cream looks near orgasmic.

Dan smirks, so much wider than before that it almost resembles a true smile, when she snatches the white bowl containing the dessert from his hands and sits back down on the mattress, completely ignoring the flashing notifications on her phone.

They can get to work tomorrow. Selina and her attention-seeking ass can wait. Nothing’s going to change because Amy ignored a couple messages. Well…

“Good?”

She’d toss the bowl at him if she wasn’t so damn hungry. So instead she just nods and raises a brow, challenging him, “Join me?”

He brushes off her invitation, making his way back over to the uncomfortable chair by the dresser, “You told your mom?”

Why, because you wanna fuck her too, and claim vagina-rights to all three Brookheimer women?

It takes everything she has in her to bite her tongue, to stop herself from saying this. Fuck him, and fuck her sister.

“She does love me.” He speaks more to himself than to her, and Amy scowls, lowering the pot down into her lap. It’s cold through the material of her dress, and she’s grateful.

The metal spoon clangs against the side of the bowl when she lets it slip from fingers, and she’s somewhat surprised when Dan leans forward and grabs it from her hands. Why the hell are his hands so warm? He’s supposed to radiate frost, not heat.

“My dad fucking hates you.”

“Your dad would hate anyone who touched you. Not just me.” He��s softening the blow to his ego, she notes. Asshole.

“He liked Buddy.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

He’s not entirely wrong. Damn him.

“Whatever.”

There’s another bowl being placed into her lap then, and his hands remain cupped around the porcelain until she reaches for it. He retracts, carefully avoiding her touch.

“Are you trying to make me fat so you can add that to your list of reasons to bail? That’s low, Dan. Even for you.” Her tone is mocking, and he knows it. So he grins, because he knows her better than anybody.

“If I was gonna bail, I wouldn’t be making sure you were looked after.” It sounds deeper than he means it to be, he reckons, “Amy, if I was gonna abandon you…,” Dan pauses, glances down at her stomach for only the shortest of seconds, “or it… I wouldn’t be in here.”

Shit. He gulps, almost sighs until she cuts him off.

Eyes closed, she breathes through her nose, does that thing where her neck strains and her body tenses, “You can’t abandon someone unless you were ever there for them in the first place.”

“Well, I’m fuckin’ here, aren’t I?”

You getting worked up there, Danny? Gary would grin like a toddler on a sugar rush and Jonah would come out with some shitty joke that only he would ever find funny. Selina would tell him to sort out his goddamn sour puss and get on with it.

His lips are drawn thin, brown eyes wide, throat tight.

“Why the fuck are you in here?” She wants to shout, but it’s late and Leon fucking West is in the room next to hers. Then again, that twice-flushed turd’s probably got a glass pressed up against the wall right now anyway, eavesdropping on a conversation she’d rather not be having.

He’s a bastard – a heartless one, he knows – but he’s not a fucking deadbeat.

Fuck, his dad’s a deadbeat and his mom’s a saint, but that never stopped him from becoming Satan’s whore in male form. But that didn’t mean he wanted to follow suit.

(And her family’s no picnic either. He doubts she wants to turn out like either one of her parents.)

(And he definitely – oddly, he knows – doesn’t want her to end up like her sister, all unfathered kids and fried aspirations.)

(She’s not just some random woman that he fucked.)

(She’s smart, and his equal.)

(She’s fucking Amy.)

So we jump together. Butch and Sundance.

If she’s in this for the long haul then he will be, too. If she’s keeping this baby (his baby), then he’s keeping her close by. If she’s ready for this, for change, for restless nights and shitty diapers at two o'clock in the fucking morning, then he’ll join her.

No point in beating a dead horse when it’s already done and buried. No point in delaying the inevitable any longer, pushing fate past its due date.

They fucked, and now they’re fucked.

We jump together.

(She’s Amy, for fuck’s sake.)

“Because you’re gonna fuckin’ marry me.”

#veep #dan x amy #dan egan #amy brookheimer #veep fic #fic*#ship: dan x amy #ch: amy brookheimer #ch: dan egan #tv: veep #iaa*

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revolutionary-fighter · 5 years

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BASICS.

► NAME ➔ “Mollie Deep Hopson! Call me Blishwick and I’ll pull your spine out from your throat!” She spoke with an overall cheerful tone of voice, not matching the severity of the threat in the least.

► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➔ “As single as a person can be really!” she chirped. “No one really wants to date me. Being part of the order really messes up your chances of finding a significant other; no one wants to get attached to someone who might die in the end after all.”

► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➔ “I’m not sure,” she easily admitted eyes suddenly looking tired and far older then just twenty. “I’m as happy as a person can be during a war. I just live my life one step at a time and try to save as many people as I can.”

► ARE YOU ANGRY? ➔ Mollie laughed, a wheezing cackle that was the epithet of ugly laugh pitching forward hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Looking up she smiled, the grin looking far too feral. “oh I’m downright bleedin furious, have been since I was a girl after I learned the world ain’t fair.”

► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➔ she coughed, choking on her giggles as she shook her head at the ridiculousness of it. “Mamma never married that waste of space. Best decision of her life I reckon, didn’t even try to contact him once she found out she was pregnant with me. When I was a little girl I listened in on a conversation she was have’in with grandma and she admitted she’d never have slept with him if she was sober.”

NINE FACTS.

► BIRTHPLACE ➔ “Uh, born in the small hospital that’s near the reservation. Forgot the name it’s been years since I’ve been back home after all.”

► HAIR COLOUR ➔ “I’d say it’s a black-ish brown but it depends on the lightning.”

► EYE COLOUR➔ “Green, some say it’s an emerald green just like my momma who got it from someone on her mother's side.”

► BIRTHDAY ➔ “ January 9th 1960 ”

► MOOD ➔ “Tired.”

► GENDER ➔ “I’m a woman through and through. I don’t mind it but sometimes I hate the expectations that come along with my gender. It sucks really....”

► SUMMER OR WINTER? ➔ “Summer is the best, I love staying out in the sun and soaking up the rays! I may have spent to much time out when I was younger and got bad sunburn for continually staying out in it for days at a time. It was worth it though.”.

► MORNING OR AFTERNOON? ➔ “Very early mornings or late afternoons, the perfect times to spend out in nature without having people muck up the silence with noise.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE.

► ARE YOU IN LOVE? ➔ “Not really, maybe a tad. I fall in love easily which is a right mess sometimes!” Mollie smiled sheepishly, blush apparent on her face the sign was telling of just how easily she fell in love with people.

► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➔ “Yes- to an extent. I suppose it just depends on the people- but oh how I wish I could have something like that! To have someone take one look at me and think, ‘yes I’m in love with you’ it’s a dream come true.”

► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➔ “I didn’t get to really test out the waters of relationships that much, far to busy with school work and keeping my pilllock of a father at bay.” Mollie rolled her eyes word dripping in poorly hidden irritation, “I'm sure if he found out his little girl was seeing someone who possibly didn’t have pureblood he’d blow a gasket. Such a hypocrite!”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➔ She cocked her head to the side in curiosity, “I don’t know? I would hope not I don’t want to be known as a heart breaker. I was never asked out so I don’t think anyone had any secret crushes on me.” A little self-deprecating laugh left her at that making it obvious that she didn’t think too highly of herself appearance-wise.

► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➔ “No I’m not as long as the person I’m committed too is just as committed as I am! I’m never going to take things halfway every again, I’ve lost enough in my life as is.”

► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK? ➔ “Uh, I know at order headquarters I was stuck healing the cursed damage casted upon the Prewett twins. I wasn’t sure if they’d make it but they managed to hold on. Their little sister Molly came in and practically crushed me!”

► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➔ “No, I doubt it.” The answer came far faster then normal, as if use to writing thoughts like this off. She was quiet for a moment then seemed to backtrack. “Maybe back when I was in America there was this one girl- but I don’t know. It’s hard to unteach homophobia that comes from the non-magical world so she just might have liked me but couldn’t face the fact that we were both girls. Or i could be remembering her reactions all wrong, I never had someone outwardly try to cort me after all.”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➔ Mollie’s lips curled into a wobbly smile, something bitter shining in her eyes making it obvious by those actions alone that her answer was ‘Yes, far too many times to count.”

FOUR CHOICES.

► LEMONADE OR ICE TEA? ➔ Mollie hummed thoughtfully, “While I am from the south I never really drank ice tea. Not that it was expensive but it was cheaper to drink from the tap. Though I had the chance to drink both in ilvermorny and I’d chose lemonade every time.”

► CATS OR DOGS? ➔ “Cats,” Mollie smiled softly. “My first pet was a cat and i’ve been soft for them every since. Don’t get me wrong dogs are a delight all of their own but cats are my first love.”

► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS? ➔ ”Few, I don’t think I’m extroverted enough to have many regular friends.” With the dry tone in her voice, it was obvious that the very idea of having many friends amused her.

► DAY OR NIGHT? ➔ “ Both. Both are good, you know? The day time with the lovely sun and the night time with all of those amazing creatures- like moon calf’s!”

FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS.

► FALLEN DOWN / UP THE STAIRS? ➔ “That fucking bloody stupid staircase trips everyone up it really doesn't give a shit who you are.” Mollie spat looking quite frankly pissed off as if remembering something unpleasant. Though her features smoothed out, lips quirking up into a small smile as she added, “which I can respect it for doing. It doesn't care if you’re a muggle-born half-blood or a pureblood it will ruin your day no matter what.”

► WANTED SOMEONE / SOMETHING SO BADLY IT HURT? ➔ “Yes- I’ve wanted someone so bad that my very soul ached for them. I didn’t get them in the end but what were you expecting? A happy end?“

► WANTED TO DISAPPEAR? ➔ “More times then I can count really.”

FAMILY.

► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG? ➔ “I love my momma with my whole soul, I’d do anything for her if she just asked me. Well, within reason obviously. She didn’t raise me to be a fool after all. My pathetic excuse of a father can go die the only use he had was donating sperm and being a thorn in my side for all of my life.”

► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE?” ➔ ”Are you aware of who you’re talking too!? I was born from a squib and a muggle you think I have it easy? Once that all got out, (which inraged dear old dad) I was lucky that I wasn’t adva were I stood!”

► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT? ➔ “No, and if I wish to inherit the black fortune I must wait until I am made lord of the house then I can do anything I wish with its riches and kick anyone out of the family tree.”

FRIENDS.

► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS? ➔ “Considering the fact that this is war and there are better things to do than hold petty grudges like- oh I don’t know... fighting the enemy? Then no I don’t secretly hate any of my few friends. Annoyed by them sometimes? Maybe but that’s every relationship under the sun!”

► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS? ➔ “Yes, the few that I have after all are very kind. Kind for staying with me even if I’m a right mess of a woman.”

► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU? ➔ She was dead silent for a beat the smile on her face frozen. It fell to pieces as the question seemed to sink in and a realization hit her. “No one, no one at all. I’m truly alone in this place, aren’t I? Even Dumbledore doesn’t know much of my past and he’s already aware that the marriage contract was forced upon me... I’m completely and utterly alone here- god I just want to go home!”

#tag game #// stole this tag thing from myself so here we go #// i just like little things like this #// snatch it up if you wish!

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tgunn64 · 7 years

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Favorite Heroes - Sterling Archer (Archer)

I say sometimes that the mark of a really great hero is growth, and becoming a better person as they progress, and I’m not sure if that’s more prevalent than with Sterling Archer, who is initially by all means a despicable person and while he never becomes a squeaky clean human per se, he grows so much, especially for a character from a goofy sitcom. When we meet Archer, he’s nothing short of an alcoholic, a serial exhibitonist that goes to great lengths to sleep with every woman he meets, and above all, a secret agent for the corporation ISIS, run by his own mother. He’s rash, selfish, immature, and mean to everyone around him.

But in all fairness Archer HAS been through a lot. His mother is nigh abusive, but also possesses what some would call an Oedipus complex. He’s riddled with fears and phobias as well as traumatic experiences that shaped his psyche. He was bullied all throughout his school days, and he always had a feeling of failure because the only reason he’s made it far as he has is because his mother often paid him out of tough spots. He blocks out ALL OF THIS SHIT with sex and alcohol, and it takes a toll on his relationships. It’s also worth mentioning his relationship with his partner, Lana Kane, who he dated before the events of Season One, but broke up with because of Sterling’s...well...given my descriptions thus far I’m not sure I need to explain. But the two clearly still have feelings for one another, but Archer’s self destructive lifestyle makes them near impossible.

Archer is one of the best animated comedies ever IMO, and Archer being stupid and bullheaded and mean is great comedy. BUT, he VERY slowly, but gradually, still manages to grow. He’s a big old onion, with many, many layers that slowly get pulled back as time goes up, all culminating to the close of Season Five, where Lana, who is growing desperate to have a child before her life as a spy catches up with her, chooses Archer to be a surrogate father of her daughter. Using Archer’s frozen sperm, Lana gives birth to Abbijean, who Archer had no consent in the existence of, and you’d expect him to flat out run away from something like that. But bizarrely, the first time he lays eyes on baby AJ, he’s nothing short of stunned. He always cared for Lana, but seeing the amalgamation of himself and Lana in the form of AJ is enough to truly touch him. He watches AJ and is made to astonishingly babble when she shows that she shares some of his mannerisms.

With AJ in his life, Archer stops being a total slack off and becomes a father and even better secret agent than he was before. Is he perfect? No, he’s still reckless and not overly intelligent, but he’s twice the man he was before. It all starts when Archer finds himself stranded in Vietnam, and comes across an old man who’s been trapped in the jungles since the Vietnamese War, and doesn’t even have a clue the war ended. Archer, out of the kindness (and there isn’t much) of his own heart, helps him out of the jungle, and uses a GPS to quickly locate his wife and daughter. That is something you would NEVER see the old Archer do with nothing to personally gain. Even Lana recognizes Archer and how has changed, so much so that they end up back together romantically. The show does a great job testing Archer, because you’d think he’d cheat on Lana just like before right? Well, when a jealous Cyril tries to break Archer and Lana up again by calling up Archer’s ex-fiancee, Katya, to seduce Archer. Kayta was one of the woman Archer ever loved (before she was murdered, revived as a cyborg by Krieger, and then left Archer again to marry his nemesis, Barry).

Archer, although still infatuated with Katya, sticks by his guns and insists that he belongs with Lana. A set of WACKY MISUNDERSTANDINGS leads Lana to believe Archer DID sleep with her, but seeing Archer manage to refuse a desirable woman, let alone Katya, because he loves Lana, would sound like absurd fanfic material in the context of an earlier season. But you believe it because Archer has grown so much. But my absolute FAVORITE Archer moment ever is when a terrorist kidnaps AJ. Said terrorist is later revealed to be an actor hired by Lana to test if Archer can be trusted with the baby, but Archer pulls no punches in keeping AJ safe. He delivers what might be one of my new favorite monologues;

“ Whatever badass shit you heard I did, you really need some context, because pretty much my whole life, pretty much right up until this minute, my default setting has been half-assed, but that was before I had a child, a child you threatened to harm, a child I just realized who’s probably on her way up to the roof so Aunt Pam can swat at biplanes. So imagine as I literally beat you to death — hang on — yeah, literally, that a giant hand has turned my dial from half-assed to quadruple-assed “

THIS is proof that Archer is a changed man. When we first meet him in Season One, he’s the world’s most skilled secret agent with an inflated ego. NOW he’s the world’s most skilled secret agent with a purpose, which is beautiful. You see a lot of lovable dumbasses in cartoons that you follow no matter what hijinks they put their loved ones through, but very few improve, grow, and mature in manner that’s as dynamic or believable as Sterling Archer.

#tommy's favorite heroes #sterling archer #archer

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totallyshadowything · 7 years

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Cycle Day 10: Multiplication

I wrote something like this earlier and deleted it because I wasn’t being entirely honest for the sake of being politically correct.

I desire twins. Heck, I want triplets.

Do I know that multiples come with a highly increased risk of complications including preeclampsia, gestational diabetes, pre-term birth, miscarriage and stillbirth, maternal death, learning-difficulties and more? YES. Very much so.

I think when you’ve longed for a child for so many years you fantasize about what your future family would look like. Then when you start approaching 40, two for the price of one starts sounding like a pretty great deal. I mean, come on, I always wanted a big family. I start thinking I could pop out two this year and two more when I turn 40 and then my dream of a big family isn’t dead!

But realistically I know that this fantasy is stupid. I am a single woman with only two hands and while I have 20+ years of nanny and postpartum experience including newborn twins and singletons, having your own 24/7 is entirely different.

My first pregnancy was a possible twin pregnancy. I have two maternal aunts that had twins. My great, great grandmother was a twin. My mother’s cousins and aunts had twins. You get the picture.

If I could choose to have twins or a singleton. I would choose twins. Two years ago I would have said only one please! I know I’m supposed to choose one because of the risks associated with multiples but that’s not really how I feel. I see people torn apart daily on message boards for admitting their desire for multiples.

This is all just fantasy of course because the chance of even getting ONE baby out of this deal is low at my age. Using frozen donor sperm only lowers the likelihood.

The plan is to use a known donor next month if this doesn’t work. Fresh sperm can live 3-7 days while frozen only lives about 12 hours. One sperm sample from a donor is often divided into 4 or more vials at a sperm bank and sold individually. A fresh sperm sample a day for two or three days could easily equal 12X more sperm that lives 6X as long! That’s a huge difference. But like they say it only takes one. And despite my fantasy I’d be so grateful for ONE…

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princessjinx · 7 years

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TRANSVAGINAL ULTRASOUND

This morning I had to school some internet idiot about how period sex is not inherently unsanitary and period blood doesn’t sit there and collect bad bacteria like some toxic wasteland as he apparently believed this got me thinking... earlier this week when I found out I would be potentially freezing my egg, I tried to look for information about it, but I couldn’t find much for cancer patients. To be fair, my googlefu might be off because I’m exhausted all. the. time. but it seemed that all I got out of it is girls get uncomfortable shots while boys get free porn and jizz in a cup.

So its uncomfortable for a lot of people and I know people from all walks of life might read this and probably have zero cares to hear about my vagina, but I said I would update and stick to the truth, and this is the truth no matter how uncomfortable it makes other people feel and -honestly- if you’re uncomfortable, well, guess what I HAVE CANCER so get over it. Plus I figured if anyone else was in the same boat and couldn’t find information, maybe they’ll stumble upon this. So this won’t cover everything just yet. I haven’t taken my first injection, but I did go to the first fertility appointment. First, it is more stressful than I expected - I really wish I had taken the anxiety medicine before my appointment. Second, the appointment is longer than I expected. I was really lucky in that Dr. Rossi was excellent and I had a close friend to come with me. I’m not a doctor but I tried to listen as well as I could and this is the understanding I took away from it.

When I got there they weighed me and took my blood pressure. Then I met with the Dr. who explained the general process. Essentially they give you a hormone that stimulates some of your eggs (quick sex ed refresh: your body already has all the eggs it is going to have, and once a month, one is called up [and if it meets sperm that is how you get pregnant]). So instead of one egg being called up, a few will be. Once that happens (and it takes some time, for me at my age [27] and with cancer they are looking at 8 days. I've heard other cancer patients at 14. This is different and slower if you are doing this for family planning reasons), you have a little procedure (she described it as being similar to a biopsy) where they poke into your ovary and collect those eggs that have been “called up.” Those eggs are frozen and stored. After chemo, when you’re ready to get pregnant, you try as anyone else does. If it doesn’t work, or you’ve lost your period (entering menopause early, which sometimes happens with chemo), your eggs are there, frozen and they can proceed with attempting IVF by mixing sperm and creating and embryo and placing it back inside you. She also went through some warnings about over-stimulation and how this has really only been around a relatively short time in the medical field, and even shorter time in the US, but still there are not a lot of causes for concern. She also asked questions about if I had made any family planning decisions yet which I hadn’t. Don’t feel pressured to answer a certain way. After we talked, she asked if I needed time to think about it. Studies show that waiting the 2 weeks has no statistical negative impact on the cancer treatment. But where I am right now is that I want to get everything over and done with. I haven’t decided if I want to have kids let alone have them come out of me, but I also didn’t want to shut that door, so I decided I wanted to take the opportunity and I wanted to start today, because the sooner this is done, the sooner chemo starts. (Guys am I even speaking English anymore?) So then came the ultrasound. I’ve never had a transvaginal ultrasound, and it is just not pleasant. It’s not bad either, but it’s really never enjoyable to have a medical device in your vagina. I get night sweats with this stupid cancer so I was trying to warn her that things were NOT going to be pretty since I didn’t shower this morning (See I told you this might make you uncomfortable). But she was really cool and we were laughing about it. I imagine that room has smelled some smells anyhow. Essentially they put the jelly on the wand and stick it inside you (you’re in the stirrups) and they look around. I understood she was looking for the ovaries. At one point it was difficult to find the right one and she had to press on me - super uncomfortable, but closing your eyes and breathing meaningfully helped. She found my ovaries on the screen and I guess they looked good because I was sent off for blood work and to pee in a cup and the next thing I knew I was talking to a nurse who was explaining the injections. They’re giving me two sets, theres a needle to set up for one and the other is pre-filled that you move to the dosage mark. You take them at the same time each day and inject them, at home, into your lower belly. They have to stay in the fridge. I have yet to take these, but I’m starting today. They check up on you a lot - the nurse guessed I would have to come back every other week day. I think they do blood work and ultra sounds on those days. Then near the end you take another shot, and a few days later they do the procedure and freeze the eggs. The cost over-all is up in the $10,000 range. My hospital apparently has some funds for cancer patients for the egg freezing. On top of that, Livestrong helps cover the medicine you have to take. Both of these require old tax forms and I’m having trouble getting them since I moved. Hopefully I can sort that out soon, but it is hard to have so much on my plate. The only thing that wasn’t covered by those two or insurance is that final shot. I just paid $275 for it (my poor credit card) and someone is dropping it off BY CARRIER today. It also has to stay in the fridge. Anyway, as I said I couldn’t find much online for cancer patients so I hope this is helpful or calming to someone else later who needs to freeze their eggs before chemo.

#chemo #cancer #the cancer #chemotherapy #lymphoma #nonhodgkinslymphoma #Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma #freezing eggs #egg freezing #ivf #ovaries #transvaginal ultrasound #ultrasound

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